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Yuuri stood in front of the old warehouse, his suit too thin for the Russian winters, his breaths coming out in puffs. From the outside the building looked abandoned – no light coming from the windows despite the late hour, no voices to be heard, but he knew Viktor could never lie to him. He got a single message this morning that he deleted as soon as he remembered all of the details.
He straightened his back and licked his chapped lips, taking a slow but sure step forward. Old door gave out under the pressure of his hand and it took a while for his eyes to get used to the darkness. His hand was steady, always conscious of the coldness of the gun he kept in the holster made of smooth leather.
Viktor stood on the other side of the large room, facing the door, waiting for Yuuri, his expression unreadable. He looked almost bored, but a storm appeared in his eyes as soon as he saw Yuuri.
It took Yuuri some time to notice Viktor wasn’t alone. A few steps behind him stood Georgi, who clearly had no idea what to do with his hands, looking nervously between the two of them.
Viktor reached under his jacket without saying a word and Yuuri immediately tensed, his hand twitching to his own lapel. Viktor just shook his head, tightlipped, as he removed his holster and threw it on the floor.
"Georgi." His voice carried steadily in the silence of the room. "You are dismissed."
"But… " Georgi tried to protest, but the second he saw Viktor’s posture he slumped his shoulders. "As you wish."
He made his way past Yuuri, leaving them alone in the warehouse.
They waited another moment, just to be sure they are alone. Yuuri spoke first.
"You meant what you said in the message?" He tried his best to keep his voice steady, but failed. Viktor nodded.
"Every word."
Viktor slowly walked towards Yuuri, keeping his eyes firmly on his body, looking for any danger. But Yuuri stood still, waiting for him, never breaking their eye contact.
"You know it's gonna be hard. You know better than anyone else. You are the head of the mafia. We are meant to hate each other."
Viktor stood close, their shallow breaths mixing into one. He cupped Yuuri's cheek and immediately felt his body relax, his head turning closer to his palm.
"I don't hate you" he whispered as Yuuri closed his eyes. "I could never hate you. That's the problem."
He lifted Yuuri's hand to his lips, kissing every finger, his palm, pushing the sleeve of his shirt until the edge of his tattoo was visible.
"Go with me. I prepared everything, they will never find us. They will never have courage to even try." He said as he left soft kisses on Yuuri's wrist.
"How can you be so sure?"
Viktor smirked against his skin.
"I am the head of the mafia, after all. They will never have the guts to look for the two most powerful men in the world."
Viktor let go of his arm in favour of taking his face in his hands, making Yuuri look him in the eyes. This man could have anything, Yuuri thought as he studied the other Viktor’s features. And yet here he was, begging Yuuri to run away with him, leaving all of his power, his money, his family behind. All of this – for Yuuri.
"All I need is for you to say yes. Please, Yuuri. Just say yes and we will have forever to figure everything out."
"It’s almost like a marriage proposal."
Viktor hid his lopsided smile in Yuuri’s gelled back hair, rubbing his thumb on Yuuri’s cheek.
"What’s your answer, then?"
Yuuri chocked on a sob as he nodded his head, gripping the lapels of Viktor’s jacket tightly.
"Yes" he said, his voice tight. "The answer always was, and always will be the same."
Viktor smiled his heart shaped smile, the one reserved for Yuuri’s eyes only. He kissed him gently, but surely.
"Let’s go, then." He took Yuuri’s hand as they made their way towards the exit. "I have a car ready, waiting for us around the corner."
"You really thought of everything, didn’t you?" Yuuri said, smiling to himself. He felt Viktor squeezing his hand slightly.
"Everything for you, love."
They made their way to the car, hand in hand. Yuuri didn’t notice the coldness on his skin this time.