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It wasn't unusual for Yuuri to be invited for high class parties around the world.
If one ignored extortion, drug dealing, loan-sharking and the petty crimes he did on his youth, Yuuri was still a businessman. Yakuza worked with legal transactions as much as illegal ones, if not more.
With that, attending a fancy ball thrown by a respectable acquaintance in Copenhagen was expected and he shouldn't decline it. It was their way of strengthening ties in the industry, shady or not.
He was just a bit surprised by the guest list.
It's common sense to not invite people who don't get along when giving parties, especially if you're involved with the mob. His contacts in Denmark were trustworthy and he never had this kind of problem. Yet, their history together dates back from the times he was in Russia, meaning they kept ties with the bratva that Yuuri couldn't meddle with.
To be invited to an event in which Victor Nikiforov was also supposed to be at was quite unexpected.
Who realized it and didn't spare time on telling the news was Phichit. There was no lost love between he and Victor, but he seemed rather amused as Yuuri frowned at the list full of guests' names.
"Europeans are well-informed." The Thai man shrugged. "Now they think you two are on better terms."
"I wouldn't use those words." Yuuri sighed as he laid down the tablet on his desk, Nikiforov's name highlighted in the document.
It's true that, before the incident with Yuri, Victor and Yuuri avoided each other like the plague. There was just too much to discuss and no one was willing to give in. There was resentment, distrust, annoyance... The perfect break-up combo, with a child bonus.
Yuri convinced them to spend an afternoon together and he had to admit it was fine. They could spend some time with the other's company and not completely lose their minds.
But after that, some things inevitably changed. They couldn't go back to square one and pretend to hate each other like before, it was just unrealistic.
It's not like Yuuri would jump happily at every opportunity to talk with his ex, though.
"He's probably as conflicted as you." Phichit said as he leant on his boss' desk. "But he's also way less stubborn and more stupid, so it'll take maybe five seconds of hesitation before he agrees on going."
"You talk as if you've known him your whole life."
"I don't, but I know you." He grinned. "And while I'm a very good friend, allow me to be an ass and remind you that young Yuuri used to spend literal hours gushing about Victor and his quirks. I have good memory."
Yuuri couldn't argue with that.
"This is a test." The Japanese avoided the subject by pointing at the tablet unworriedly. "They want to know how friendly we really are and whether this is an issue or not."
"And what's the problem with that?" Phichit raised an eyebrow. "It's not like we're sworn enemies of the bratva or friendly with their rivals. More than half of their allies are there because of you. They know the split was due purely domestic matters and it didn't affect much of the trades. You and Victor bearing each other's presence isn't going to change anything."
"You know very well what assumptions they will make." He said lowly as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. These talks are too tiring for the night shift.
The young man smiled mischievously.
"Unless you're flying all the way to Scandinavia to openly say 'I'm here to bang my ex', I can't say they're thinking that." He made a pause, tilting his head. "Well, not all of them. The Leroys love gossip, but I don't think they would..."
"Phichit." Yuuri interrupted curtly. "Less talking and more working."
"O-kay." Chulanont stood up now, looking more composed and maybe a bit more professional. "I would advise you to go. There are a lot of important people there and some new faces that we should get acquainted with. At best, you and Nikiforov will ignore each other and move on with your lives until your spawn wrecks havoc again."
"Don't talk about Yuri like that." There was no real threat on that, he knew Phichit cared for his son a lot.
"Of course I'll do, he's becoming a nuisance just like his father on the same age." He paused for a minute to reconsider. "If we want to be optimistic, Yuri won't be worse than you, at least. That would be a great challenge."
Again, Yuuri couldn't argue with that. He had been quite the troublemaker in his teenage years.
"If that's all you have to say, let's call it a day." Yuuri said before lazily stretching his arms. He was getting old. "Also, I'm not bringing you to Copenhagen. You left me hanging the last time we met the Chinese."
Phichit could only scoff at that.
"I was right, then. You are flying to Scandinavia to bang your ex."
"Phichit, go die."
"Not today, dear."
_-_-_
Victor never checked guest lists on his own. He trusted Georgi for that.
His loyal sovietnik could've played the biggest prank of the year on him and let Victor go to that event without knowing about Yuuri and watch him make a fool of himself.
But Popovich was too good for his sake, so he politely pointed out that none other than Yuuri Katsuki would be in Copenhagen.
Victor almost choked on air.
He's not proud to admit that he accepted the invitation rather quickly after knowing the great news. Georgi didn't help at all allowing him without questioning.
After the incident with Yuri, he hadn't talked with Yuuri again. He had replayed the ice skating date (Okay, it was not a date) on his head for weeks after that, cherishing Yuri's cute little frowns when he couldn't do more than double jumps, savoring Yuuri's subtle smiles at jokes Victor had made. They were happy. So, so freaking happy. All days were like that when Yuri was younger and Victor and Yuuri were the epitome of love and trust for everyone to see.
The dream was over when they flew back to Japan the next day and Victor was alone once again.
He could say something changed in his relationship with Yuuri since that day, but couldn't pinpoint what. They didn't talk with each other again, but Yuri was calling him more now. Yuuri never kept him from contacting Victor, but the boy always knew their relationship wasn't the most amicable thing and learnt to keep the distance. If Yuri was closer, it meant Yuuri was closer. Victor didn't know if that was good or not.
Staring at the cursed guest list for another hour or so, he could only half smile at how the universe must be dying to see them together. Victor lowkey agreed.
This would be an interesting party.
_-_-_
Yuuri arrived first and already hated himself for expecting Victor there.
As far as he could see, there were no Russians in that room. At least, not Russians he knew. There were dozens of well dressed businessmen, with their equally lavishing escorts and shady lines of work. Not a single one of them was Victor Nikiforov.
Yuuri took a quiet and annoyed sip of his champagne as he realized where his mind was going. For God's sake, why did he even care if Victor wasn't around? He should be grateful or even laughing at the thought that Nikiforov refused to go because of him. Or there could be another completely plausible reason, anyway. There's no reason for Victor to avoid Yuuri if he doesn't feel anything for him.
Right?
As if answering him, Yuuri got a glimpse of painfully familiar silver hair near the main door. He excused himself from chatting with an old and fat resort tycoon to walk around and get a better angle.
It was him, looking as charming as Yuuri remembered. He had a young redhead woman as company and Yuuri could only pray it was the only other redhead in the bratva he knew and not a cheap hooker. Katsuki wasn't ready to be replaced by a prostitute.
(Why was he thinking that more than ten years after the split? Because he's an idiot. That's it.)
Now Victor was here and Yuuri could already feel the stares at him as if he'd jump at his ex's throat at any minute. There were people here who knew their past, some that drank and danced at their old house in Saint Petersburg before the break-up and even a few that cheered their argument because they were getting too strong for their liking. All of them, friend or enemy, wanted a show tonight. Yuuri wasn't in the mood to give it to them.
That's why, for now, he'd avoid talking to Victor.
_-_-_
"You're drooling."
Victor was enough of a fool to wipe his mouth before realizing Mila was messing with him. She looked amused.
"Not funny, Mila Yakovlevna." Victor muttered as he finally stopped looking at Yuuri on the other side of the room.
"You were almost there, though. It's getting ridiculous and everyone can see it." Mila said making a scene of adjusting the man's tie and smoothing his shirt. Maybe she really wanted him to look more decent. "Go talk to him, Vitya. It's not everyday you have this chance."
"He doesn't want to talk to me." He said it simply, almost grateful he could use this as an excuse before admitting he was straight up scared of talking to Yuuri.
"It doesn't mean you don't want to talk to him." The girl pointed the obvious while gesturing to the subject of their chat, who now seemed to leave the place to drink in the open area. "Look at the poor thing, so lonely. He must be on his fourth glass by now."
"I'd bet higher on that." Victor knew these kind of places weren't the best for keeping Yuuri sober. He always needed a little push to be more sociable. "Do you really think I should try?"
"Of course, dummy, what can go wrong?" She gave him a light punch for good measure. "You guys have a son together, he can't kill you."
That made Victor laugh.
"You should've said this to us back in 2005, we could've saved some gunpowder." He reasoned while picking a glass of champagne from a passing tray. This would need some alcohol to go well. "I think I'm going."
"That's the spirit, pakhan." Mila even gave him some final taps on the shoulder as motivation. "Have fun tonight, I'll only call tomorrow to make sure you're alive."
"I'll pretend you didn't just imply I would sleep with him, Mila." Victor said already on his way to meet his former lover.
"That's you subconsciously materialising your wish, Vitya!" The girl called up with a giggle, which Victor decided to ignore.
Between smiles and nods of politeness to known people he passed by on the way, it took Victor longer than he wanted to meet Yuuri outside.
He was alone there, looking over the balcony into the chilly night of Copenhagen, thinking. He used to that in Russia and Victor always found peace in that view. Yuuri was prettier than every night sky in the world.
"Hey." Victor called out making Yuuri turn around. "It seems you're avoiding me."
The Japanese man had half a second to seem surprised before his look feigned indifference. He was already expecting Victor to make the first move.
"And what's wrong with that?"
"It's not like you." The older shrugged as he came closer, motioning to the empty glass in Yuuri's hand. "But I suppose you needed some glasses before posing as a functioning human being."
"You know me so well." Yuuri looked at him for a second more before going back to the city view. "Who came with you?"
The way he said it made Victor think that he must have payed attention to him to some degree that night. The thought of Yuuri Katsuki feeling any kind of jealousy towards him was almost funny.
"Mila is with me for the party. Lilia is also in town." He explained taking a sil of his drink. "She had business around and we took the same flight."
Yuuri visibly winced at that.
"Damn." He cursed in a whisper. "I am so not ready to meet Lilia Baranovskaya while shopping for souvenirs."
The Russian smiled at said image. It doesn't hurt to be mentally prepared to meet Lilia no matter the situation.
"She probably misses you." He wasn't sure of how true was that, but those two used to be close.
"Nonsense." Yuuri shook his head. "Her motto is 'a good ex is a dead one'. She must resent you for not shooting me after the break-up."
"Everyone does, I think." He admitted. It wasn't worth to lie about that. "I couldn't care less."
If he was serious or not, Yuuri just hummed a quiet reply. He knew the bratva thought worse of him than the mere parent of their future leader.
They were silent again after that, too many topics to discuss but not enough courage. It'd be a wasted opportunity if one of them walked away now with just some words spoken. At the same time, this was not place or moment to talk about their tainted past.
But there was always one thing they could talk about that wouldn't go to waste.
"How's Yuri?" It was Victor who asked, hopefully not trying to sound too indifferent. As much as he wanted to know about their son, he was expecting to reach other subjects before talking about the only thing tying them together.
"Fine." Yuuri answered, a bit more relaxed for the change in mood. "He wanted to tag along after finding out you were supposed to come. But he has exams to study for, so I didn't allow it."
"You did well." Victor nodded. "Meetings like these aren't fit for children. They get sleepy after half an hour."
Yuuri couldn't hold back a snicker.
"Don't say that to his face. Yuri swears he can stay awake until 4 AM without feeling dead the next day."
"Impressive." Victor smiled a little more openly. "Bet he barely hits midnight."
"With coffee." Yuuri added.
They both laughed softly at the thought, a shared memory of their little kitten's harsh and fierce personality that they loved so much. Victor feels his absence the most of the two.
"He misses you." Yuuri continued with a small, tired smile. "I think he wants to spend the holidays in Russia."
"He's always welcome in my house. The both of you." He assured. "We could go to another place as well. Travel together."
"Family vacation?" Yuuri asked skeptical.
"If that's how you want to call." He raised a shoulder in indifference, downing the last of his drink so to not say anything more.
Because as silly as it sounded, Victor still saw Yuuri as family. They had their differences, with wounds still fresh open and refusing to close, but what they had together couldn't just be erased with a couple of handshakes and polite nods. They worked, they were engaged, they had a child. Yuuri had been present in Victor's short and miserable life for so long it was hard to let go even after so many years.
The silence settled again and Victor legitimately thought they were finished now. It was his fault, anyway, for suggesting the damned travel. But it sounded like a good idea.
It surprised him to have Yuuri initiating another talk:
"Yuri hasn't talked with you about college, I suppose." The tone he used was serious, a bit worried. He actually looked at Victor when talking this time.
College? Well, he supposed this would come sooner or later now that Yuri was approaching adulthood. Victor, in his youth, only managed an accounting degree because Yakov wouldn't let him work otherwise. Yuuri studied in Detroit, as far as he knew, but only so he could make money selling drugs to university students. They raised Yuri to be much more refined than that.
"No. I was going to ask you about this, actually." It was only partially the truth, but he couldn't day he wasn't interested. "Does he want to work with dancing?"
Yuuri shrugged and gave out a weary sigh. He wished things were easier and his son had simpler dreams. It'd hurt less to shatter them.
"He knows a job as a performer isn't useful nor safe in the family. He might get a degree in Economics or something."
"It's a shame." Victor declared in disappointment, already mourning performances his son wouldn't be able to star in. "He's a great dancer."
"That's why I don't blame him for going to an arts school." It sounded like a confession, because Yuuri deep down wished he was more strict with Yuri. But he wanted to dance and Yuuri couldn't say 'no'. He knew Victor would understand him. "The thing is, I know exactly what school he wants to go to."
"So?" Victor inquired, actually wishing there was a Russian school on the list, even with Yuri himself saying that classical ballet wasn't interesting to him.
"Juilliard." There was urgency in his hushed voice and expectancy in his eyes. The name didn't seem to ring a bell to the pakhan and that made Yuuri frown. "Victor, don't you know what Juilliard is?"
Nikiforov blinked and avoided his stare uncomfortably, just now realizing this was one of those pieces of common knowledge he was supposed to know with how much money he owned. His ex-boyfriend now had one more reason to be disappointed in him.
"I would be lying if I said 'yes'." He mumbled, actually feeling his cheeks heating because of a random fancy school. "Is it in France?"
Yuuri was fuming.
"It's in New York, Victor." He looked as if restraining himself from calling him an uncultured swine. "America. He wants to go to America."
"Oh." That didn't change anything to him, but now he at least got an idea of what were they discussing. "Well, I don't see the problem, if he goes to Russia right after graduation."
Yuuri disagreed vehemently, the frown never leaving his lines and making him look older than he really was.
"That's not the point. Manhattan is swarming with Italians, this can be dangerous."
That actually made the older look around to check if they were alone in the balcony. He had noticed some Italian being spoken briefly around the tables, but nothing they should worry about. He still said the next part in a lower tone:
"It's good to let him have some independence." Victor knew how Yuuri could be overprotective with their heir, so this should be treated carefully. "Yuri is smart. He won't get himself in trouble."
He laughed humourless.
"You're underestimating your son." He poked Victor on the chest when saying 'your'. "He'll probably see this as a chance to get more involved with the business on his own."
"Maybe if we talk with him, there won't be such a problem." Victor was trying to sound as peaceful as he could now, because Yuuri was partially drunk and anything could be taken as a threat.
He understood Yuuri, he knew what worried him and, to be fair, he knew Yuri could be a handful when he put his mind on something. No wonder the total mess he did of his parents when he ran away from home years ago. But if they didn't trust him, what could they do? Victor couldn't think a world in which Yuri hated him, even less him and Yuuri. They would be dead without him.
They weren't even talking about the potential political power Yuri would have once he really took over the business.
Yuuri still wasn't done with that talk.
"'We' as in we'll both sit down and discuss it with Yuri in the same room?" He crossed his arms, that pretentious snicker never leaving his lips. "Sounds unlikely."
"If you can't solve it on your own, I guess I need to intervene." Victor was slowly getting tired of that stunt. Maybe the alcohol was finally getting to him and making him immune to Yuuri Katsuki's sass. "I don't want Yuri to be stuck with this whole family thing. If he wants to dance, I'll support him."
"It doesn't work like this, Victor." Yuuri accused, sounding more serious than ever since that night started. "Your syndicate depends on Yuri to exist. There will be a day he'll need to take charge."
The pakhan could only roll his eyes at that.
"Don't talk as if you want this to happen." He retorted. "Are you really that worried about the fate of the Plisetsky bratva? If so, it's more than I'll ever be, Yuuri."
Victor knew he was walking on eggshells by blurting out he cared way less about their work than he should, but no mob would pick his attention more than Yuri's wellbeing. There were days his reasons were much less noble and he fantasized about simply disappearing in the world and letting everything go to shambles.
But that was easier said than done, as Yuuri might have noticed:
"You know very well what they do to people who run away." He said in a whisper, as if said people had suffered because of him. "What they would do to him..."
Yuuri had fear in his eyes. Through the years, Victor came to the conclusion it was one of the worst looks on him, right behind disappointment. Yuuri wasn't worried about the bratva, he was worried about Yuri. If he didn't grow up to become a picture perfect pakhan, they could do things to him. If he did anything remotely close to go against the rules, they could punish him. If he tried to run away from his job assigned at birth... He could end up like his mother.
Yuuri Katsuki couldn't see a world without his son.
Victor understood now. He tried coming closer to Yuuri, a tentative hand on his arm as comfort. The other didn't seem to mind, too caught up in his own dark scenarios to care about the proximity. No one said it out loud, but they both missed that feeling of safety. They always had felt safe in each other's arms, back in the good days. Victor missed having a friend, he missed Yuuri. Maybe the feeling was reciprocal.
"He'll be fine." The Russian promised, making a point to sound as comforting as he could. "He's growing up, things like these will show up now and then. We just have to be patient."
Patience. It was almost like a joke, the future has always been so uncertain for them. They had expected to die young and living the dream, not go far enough to have a child and discuss mundane things as college and family travels.
But they were living for now. Living, happy and as safe as they could be. Yuuri would keep caring for his son as long as he breathed.
"If you say so." He mumbled, still not noticing the hand on his arm or the softness in the man's voice. "Try to squeeze some info out of him in your next phone call. Because I surely am not in the mood to have this three-way conversation with you both."
Victor smiled, feeling brave enough to attempt a joke:
"You just can't stand two pairs of puppy eyes begging for your approval."
Maybe he found it funny, because his look softened as he stared up at Victor with something that almost resembled longing.
"It's pitiful and that's why I can't stand it." That was his last excuse before stepping out of the Russian's hold and supressing a tired yawn. He was getting too old for these parties. "Tell Babicheva I said 'Hi'. Have a good night, Victor."
"See you around, Yuuri." Those were his last words before they parted ways and Victor was once again alone with his own thoughts.
As he expected, Nikiforov wouldn't end that night sleeping with his ex. They still had many walls to break before going back to that stage. A sincere smile of Yuuri Katsuki was more than he could ask for, though.
Victor took a deep breath before turning a heel and going back to the party, making a mental note to look more into that Juilliard school thing later. It wouldn't do good if Yuri found out his father was an ignorant fool.