Work Text:
Yuuri Katsuki was tired, lonely, and hungry. He worked from sunup to sundown just to afford the roof over his head. Now, his home wasn't fancy—it was literally just a shack—but living in Japan wasn't easy. Bills, bills, bills. He rarely had enough money left over to put food in his mouth, and Yuuri survived almost entirely on ramen and tap water.
He only had enough money to make it.
Even he knew this wasn't living. It was simply surviving.
Yuuri was walking down his street, wrapped tightly in his scarf and gloves to shield himself against the snow, when he noticed a leg sticking out of an alley. He approached cautiously. Drug addicts weren't uncommon in this area, and he didn't want somebody reaching out and ripping his clothes.
He could only afford two outfits.
As Yuuri got closer, he noticed that the foot was bare and blistering red, but surprisingly clean. Whoever this person was, they had probably been robbed and left outside to catch hypothermia.
Yuuri sighed deeply and watched his breath fog up in the freezing air. He could keep walking and make it home safely, but he couldn't say the same for whoever was lying in that alley.
He rounded the corner and froze when his eyes landed on the prone figure.
Tall, muscular, with soft, short white hair and long, pale eyelashes. The man was beautiful, almost too beautiful to be lying unconscious in an alley like this. With looks like those, Yuuri worried somebody might take advantage of him before anyone bothered to help.
So, with another deep sigh, Yuuri lifted the man into his arms and carried him back to his makeshift shack.
The stranger obviously had a high fever, but Yuuri had no medication to help. His hands and feet were freezing, and the skin looked painfully irritated from the cold.
"His feet and hands are going to hurt when he wakes up," Yuuri murmured as he carefully warmed him with blankets and checked his fingers for any serious damage.
Once he'd done what he could, he slid socks and gloves onto the man, dressed him in his other outfit, and draped his blanket over his trembling body.
Yuuri stepped back to examine him before walking over to the fireplace and lighting it. He really ought to get the man to a hospital, but he had no idea how he was supposed to pay for that, either.
"I hope you wake up soon. I want my bed back," he sighed, heading across the room to the kitchen.
All he had left to eat was ramen, so he put it in the microwave and headed to the sink to fill a glass of water.
"Where am I? Who are you?" a heavily accented voice asked from his bed.
Yuuri dropped his only cup into the sink and watched the already-cracked glass finally shatter.
"That was my favorite cup," he sighed before turning around. "My name is Yuuri, and you're in my home."
At that moment, the microwave beeped, and he took out the ramen.
"Are you with the men who robbed me?" the stranger asked.
Yuuri carried the food over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Nope, I just happened to find you. Now, who are you, and where are you from?" he asked.
The man tilted his head in a very dog-like manner, and Yuuri couldn't help but chuckle.
"You do not know who I am? Strange. By now, my name must be on every news station," he hummed as he slurped his noodles.
"It would only take a glance around to see that I can't afford a TV or cable. Now, who are you?" Yuuri asked again.
"My name is Victor Nikiforov. A pleasure to meet you, Yuuri," he introduced himself.
Yuuri felt his blood run cold.
"Nikiforov, as in the mafia leader's family name?" he whispered.
The man winced and looked away.
"Yes."
-
Since that night, Yuuri hadn't been able to relax around the Yakuza leader, but he couldn't bring himself to kick him out, either. Victor was still terribly sick, and the thought of leaving him outside in the cold again made Yuuri feel guilty.
Besides, for a supposed criminal mastermind, Victor spent an awful lot of time lying in bed complaining about being hungry.
"I'm sorry. I promise I'll pay you back," Victor apologized as Yuuri stared into his foodless kitchen.
Yuuri was about to tell him not to worry about it when a heavy knock came from the front door.
He froze and stared at Victor in sheer panic. He didn't know why, but something told him he had to hide the man. So Yuuri grabbed Victor by the collar and pushed him into the small closet beside the bed.
"Don't move or make a sound. No matter what, don't come out," he warned before shutting the door.
Seconds later, Yuuri's front door was kicked open, and several men piled into the shack.
"What's wrong? What are you doing here?" Yuuri sighed tiredly.
"You seem a little behind on your protection fee, Katsuki. Get out. The Yakuza now owns this house and everything in it. You're lucky you won't be sold off into the black market," the leader hissed as he sat on Yuuri's bed.
"What? No! You can't take my home! If you wanted money for the protection fees, you should lower the rent!" Yuuri yelled, leaning toward the man.
The man quickly stood up and slammed his fist into Yuuri's face, knocking him to the ground.
"How dare you talk back to me, boy! I think I'll change my mind and take you in personally. You can be my whore, and that'll cover your protection fee for the month, yeah?" the leader cooed while stroking his bruised cheek.
Yuuri gathered enough courage to slap his hand away.
"The only ones I need protection from are you heathens," he hissed.
The leader growled and raised his fist again.
A sharp gunshot pierced through the small room.
Time seemed to stand still as the leader dropped to the floor. Yuuri stared at him in horror before slowly turning toward the shooter, his breathing growing increasingly uneven.
There, standing regal and deadly, was Victor. The gun in his hand appeared to belong to the man he currently had pinned against the wall.
"Nikiforov," someone in the room whispered.
The name seemed to confirm the stranger's identity, and the remaining men immediately dropped to their knees.
"I do not recall giving your group this district," Victor murmured in a cold tone that Yuuri was completely unfamiliar with.
"F-forgive us, Leader Nikiforov. It was all Mr. Yamaguchi's idea," a bald man quivered as cold blue eyes landed on him.
"I would like to know how much you are charging for protection fees. Someone, please inform me," Victor said, tilting his head.
Before, when Victor tilted his head like that, Yuuri thought of him as a confused puppy. Now, the same gesture was coming from a man who had just killed somebody without hesitation.
"Five hundred thousand yen," a man with piercings all over his face informed him shakily.
"Five hundred thousand yen a month?" Victor hissed.
Everyone in the room flinched.
"Y-yes, sir," the tattooed man whispered.
"How peculiar. The fee was supposed to be ten thousand yen monthly. Are you telling me you've been taking four hundred and ninety thousand yen a month for yourselves?" Victor questioned.
The silence that followed was enough of an answer for the mafia boss.
Within minutes, the group was dead on Yuuri's floor.
Yuuri tried to stand, but the blood had made the floor slippery, and he fell back down. Covered in blood and frozen in fear, he found himself gasping desperately for air.
"Yuuri!" Victor yelled as he crouched beside him.
He was hyperventilating, and his chest had begun to tighten painfully.
"I need...inhaler," he choked out.
"Where is it!?" Victor demanded, already standing.
"Table drawer...beside the bed," Yuuri coughed.
"I've got it!" the white-haired man called.
Victor hurried back and helped Yuuri sit upright, pressing the inhaler into his shaking hand.
"Yuuri, get ready to breathe in," Victor instructed.
"Please do it now," Yuuri whispered as his vision began to blur and his head spun.
A moment later, he finally got the medication he needed. Yuuri slowly steadied his breathing, taking in the air his lungs had been struggling to get.
"I'm so sorry," Victor whispered shamefully.
Yuuri shook his head.
"In this neighborhood, gunshots and death are as common as eating," he rasped. His throat always got sore after an attack like that.
"Why did you hide me? You know that I'm their boss," Victor questioned.
Yuuri carefully got up and stepped outside. He didn't like being surrounded by blood and dead bodies, and the cold air felt much better than the stuffy little room.
"I don't know. I just get this strong feeling that the mafia is the last place you want to return to," Yuuri answered, watching his breath fog up in the night chill.
"Hold on for a second," Victor said before returning to the house.
A moment later, he came back out with two coats.
"Thank you," Yuuri shivered as he shrugged his on.
Victor was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
"Let's go for a walk while we talk about this."
Yuuri had a feeling Victor wanted to get away from the bloodbath just as badly as he did.
"Okay," he agreed.
-
"When I first became the mafia leader, I loved it. The rush, the blood, I loved it all. But as I got older...I didn't love it anymore. I knew what I was doing was wrong."
Victor walked beside him with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. The streets were nearly empty, and the snow crunched softly beneath their shoes.
"I was ruining lives. I felt like a monster. I wanted nothing more to do with the mafia, but a leader can't simply walk away. So I faked my death and ran. I left the people I cared about most in charge. Then, when I was weak and hungry, some gangsters knocked me out and took everything I had."
He glanced toward Yuuri, smiling a little.
"And when I opened my eyes again, I saw you. We've only known each other for two weeks, but you saved me. You gave me hope that I could live a life where I don't have to be a monster. Thank you."
Yuuri had noticed from the beginning just how nice Victor's smile was, but at that moment, it was so very beautiful.
They arrived at the neighborhood park.
"And then my precious little underlings arrived," Victor continued with obvious sarcasm. "I had no idea my gang was charging such outrageous fees. You were right. The only ones you needed protection from were them. They made lives so much harder around here, and I can never apologize enough."
Yuuri sympathized with this tired man who just wanted to live an ordinary life.
"I admit, when I found out you were the mafia's leader, I hated you. But then I got to know you better. You seemed nothing like the type of person to do something so cruel. I've heard rumors about you and watched too many mafia movies, so I thought you'd be that stereotypical bad guy, but you're just a big dork," Yuuri chuckled.
Victor flushed and pouted at the insult.
"You hurt me, dear Yuuri," he whined.
Yuuri sighed and grew serious again.
"By now, the cops are probably swarming my home. So that means we're homeless."
His bank account held about a thousand yen, but that was nowhere near enough for somewhere to stay. Yuuri was no stranger to homelessness, but he worried about Victor. This man was too beautiful to be out in the cold.
"I know what you're thinking right now," Victor suddenly said.
Yuuri flushed and looked up to meet those blue eyes.
"You think I've never been poor enough to be homeless, don't you?" he guessed.
Yuuri pursed his lips guiltily, and Victor chuckled.
"Before I became the mafia leader, I lived in Russia. I lived with a younger cousin and a father who sexually abused me. I hated him and was old enough to leave, but I worried about Yuri," he explained, his eyes growing distant.
"Yuri? Like my name?" Yuuri asked.
"Yeah, it sounds like your name, but it's spelled differently," Victor chuckled.
"Anyway, when I was seventeen, I came home from a long night at work and found my father trying to hurt Yuri. He was five," Victor said, his expression hardening.
Yuuri was in shock. How could a man do something like that to a child?
"Yuri was crying and screaming, and when Father saw me, everything went still. All I could see was red. I tried to make sure he never laid his hands on Yuri again, but I completely lost control. One moment, Father was standing over Yuri, and the next, I was on top of him, hitting him over and over again."
Victor looked down at his hands.
"It wasn't until I felt Yuri pulling on my clothes that I finally came to my senses. I don't know when it happened, but I'd killed him. Everything came out after years of anger, fear, and disgust. When the police came and took my statement, they let me leave with Yuri."
Yuuri listened quietly, unsure what he could possibly say.
"I was seventeen and pretty much had a son. My job at the corner store just wasn't enough. So by day, I was your typical cashier, and by night, a prostitute. Sometimes, ends still didn't meet, and we'd find ourselves homeless over and over again. There were nights when I had to sleep with somebody just so we'd have a roof over our heads."
Victor sighed.
"When I was twenty, I'd had enough. I packed up everything we owned and moved to Japan. I put my fighting experience to use here and clawed my way up the Yakuza until I was at the top."
Yuuri's heart hurt for this man. He'd lived such a cruel life, but somehow, he could still smile and laugh so beautifully.
Yuuri couldn't stop himself. He threw himself at Victor and hugged him.
Victor was obviously caught off guard, but he wasn't willing to let Yuuri go. Spotting a nearby bench, he guided them toward it, and they sat down with Yuuri on his lap, still hugging him.
"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispered.
Victor squeezed him closer, and they went quiet, letting the crickets fill the silence between them.
Yuuri was still worried about where they would stay, but at that moment, he could think of nothing but Victor's scent.
It was a perfect mixture of roses and snow.
-
"We could leave," Victor suggested a while later as they walked.
"Leave? Where?" Yuuri asked.
"I've always wanted to live in America," he answered.
"Wait, like leave the country? I don't even have enough money to get a hotel for the night, let alone that," Yuuri gawked.
"I have more than enough money in my bank account, Yuuri. Being an ex-boss of an underground organization has its advantages," Victor chuckled.
Yuuri stared at him in shock. He hadn't even stopped to consider how loaded Victor had to be.
"C-can we leave?" Yuuri asked in a small voice.
He'd always thought he'd be trapped in Japan for the rest of his life. The possibility of leaving had never seemed realistic, especially when he could barely afford to keep himself fed.
"We can leave right now," Victor offered.
"Going to America sounds fun, right, Otabek?" a voice said behind them.
The two spun around to see two boys leaning against a tree.
The other man, apparently the one named Otabek, let out a grunt.
"Yuri," Victor whispered in shock.
Yuuri did a double take at the smaller boy. He was beautiful, with long blond hair, sharp green eyes, and an elegant frame.
Otabek was much taller and stockier than Yuri, with pitch-black hair and dark, intelligent eyes.
"Trying to run away again, huh?" Yuri sneered at Victor.
"That's your cousin, Yuri?" Yuuri asked.
"Yep. Isn't he just a patch of sunshine?" Victor chuckled.
"Oi! Who's the pig!?" Yuri hissed.
All Yuuri could picture was a newborn kitten trying to be intimidating.
"This, my baby cousin, is Yuuri," Victor introduced.
"HUH!? No way am I sharing names with this pork cutlet bowl!" Yuri screeched.
"Yes, I've been considering this. You will be called Yurio!" Victor announced.
"HUH!?" Yurio screamed.
Otabek laid a hand on Yurio's shoulder to calm him down.
"And as for what you said, yes, going to America does sound fun," Victor added, completely ignoring his cousin's outrage.
"Would you like to come with us?" Yuuri offered.
"Shut up, piggy! I was going whether you asked or not!" Yurio growled.
"Then let's go!" Victor clapped his hands together excitedly.
-
When they got to the airport, however, the next plane to America wasn't leaving for another four hours, which immediately deflated Victor's excitement.
"Well, if we can't leave now, we might as well get some food," Yuuri sighed as he took out his wallet.
"Don't worry about it, Yuuri! You cared for me for so long, and I told you I'd repay you! You pick the restaurant, and I'll pay," Victor ordered.
Yuuri paused and looked up at Victor. On one hand, he hated taking more money from him. On the other, he wanted to eat one more cutlet bowl before leaving Japan.
So Yuuri gave in and ate the most delicious dish he rarely had enough money to afford.
"So where in America should we go?" Victor asked as he ordered another bowl.
"Detroit," Yurio answered before scarfing down his food.
"Why Detroit?" Victor asked.
"Eminem," was his answer.
Yuuri could tell that Victor had absolutely no idea who Eminem was.
"Detroit is a good idea. I even have a friend who lives there," Yuuri agreed.
Otabek nodded in agreement.
"Well, if we're all in favor, I guess we're going to Detroit," Victor announced.
While the others finished their food, Yuuri called Phichit to inform him of the news.
"Yuuuuuri! It's been forever since we last talked! How are you? Wait, turn on your camera so I can see your beautiful face!" Phichit ordered.
Yuuri chuckled and did as he was told.
"Phichit, listen. A few friends and I are coming to Detroit to stay!" Yuuri announced.
Phichit's screech made him pull his headphones away from his ears.
"Oh, you need to come to my house when you arrive! Wait, I should meet you at the airport! I'm going right now!" Phichit babbled.
"Phichit, no! I'm still in Japan. We'll probably arrive tomorrow, and it's still really late here," Yuuri tried to calm his best friend down.
"Oh..." Phichit pouted sadly.
"I'll call you when we're about to arrive so you can meet us, and then we'll come to your house, okay?" Yuuri asked.
"Okay! So, Yuuuuuri? Do you have a lover yet? Oh! You're blushing! Tell me everything!" Phichit yelled.
"I'll tell you when I get there," Yuuri stalled.
"Oh, perfect sleepover conversation!" Phichit agreed.
"Yuuri! Come eat!" Victor yelled from their table.
"I'll talk to you later, Phichit. I can't wait to see you in person again. It's been too long," Yuuri smiled softly.
"Me too, Yuuri," Phichit agreed before the call ended.
"I tried to save you some food, but the vacuum over there sucked it all up," Victor said, gesturing toward Yurio.
"Murderer," Yuuri chuckled.
-
Hours later, the group found themselves on a plane flying to America.
"Yuuri!" Phichit yelled when he spotted him at the airport.
"Phichit!" Yuuri yelled back enthusiastically.
Moving to another country was scary, but Yuuri had Victor. Victor bought an apartment in a nicer part of Detroit, and it was the biggest, most beautiful home Yuuri had ever lived in.
He quickly got used to the apartment. With enough food in the fridge, Yuuri could finally cook meals he'd only dreamed of making before. He didn't have to count every ingredient or worry about whether he'd have enough money to eat the following day.
"I want to fatten you up, my little piggy," Victor chuckled as he hugged Yuuri from behind.
"For that, you don't get any katsudon," Yuuri answered while he fried the meat.
"But Yuuuuuri!" Victor whined.
Yuuri chuckled at the Russian's silly antics as he set the table.
"What were you looking for when you escaped the mafia?" Yuuri couldn't help but ask.
What had a man like Victor been doing in his part of town anyway?
Victor chuckled and pointed his silverware at Yuuri.
"I was depressed and needed some sort of inspiration, and I found it," he said lovingly.
Yuuri blushed and looked away. This man was too sweet for his own good.
"So...about our relationship," he started nervously.
"Hmm? We're obviously dating, Yuuri! And I'll marry you after a while," Victor answered with his signature heart-shaped smile.
Yuuri choked on his food and struggled to regain his breath.
"M-marry?" he whispered.
"Yes, marry. I think I fell in love with you the moment I woke up in your bed and saw you standing in the kitchen. I knew you were going to be the one who changed my life. I didn't expect you to be so shy, kind, or even this amusing, and I love it."
Victor reached across the table and gently pulled Yuuri toward him.
"If I were to marry anyone, it would be you every single time," he said thoughtfully.
"I love you too, Victor. So much," Yuuri whispered.
There, they sealed their vow with a deep kiss that lit their world on fire.
"Gross, get a room," Yurio gagged as he walked into the kitchen.
Otabek grunted beside him.
"Oh, Yurio, don't act so sour! I hear and see so much more than I'd like when you're with Otabek," Victor laughed deeply.
Yurio screeched and blushed furiously at the statement.
Yuuri watched as Yurio pounced on the Russian and couldn't help but chuckle.
This was his new family and his new life, and he would treasure it deep in his heart.