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The last time Viktor Nikiforov had turned someone, it had been Yuri Plisetsky… and look how that turned out.
(It did not turn out well, in case anyone was wondering.)
So, he was going to be more selective in choosing who he was going to turn next. It wasn’t as though he was lonely, no. He had Yuri, sometimes, and he had Makkachin VIII, and Lilia whenever he felt like getting the daylight - nightshadows? - kicked out of him in her studio in St. Petersburg.
Alright, he was a little lonely.
It was lucky, then, that Seattle had such vibrant nightlife, because then Viktor could go out and live . Well, unlive. Undead? Whatever.
He had spent the last week bar hopping, going from dive bars to jazz clubs, fancy establishments to corner pubs, and even a video game themed bar one night. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have standards , and he certainly would never take advantage of someone, but it was an easy way to meet people. Plus, if he slipped and said or did something, they would be too drunk to remember.
2 Fingers Social was his favorite bar in this latest jaunt - it was a movie themed (horror themed? He wasn’t sure) bar that allowed dogs! Dogs! Makkachin loved watching people as Viktor took in the sights, the smells, and once in a while - rarely! - certain tastes of the area.
That’s exactly what he was doing when he met the man who he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was going to change his life.
Sitting on a barstool near the corner of the long slab countertop, nursing the same drink for at least an hour, was the most gorgeous man Viktor had ever seen. Dark hair brushing into his eyes that looked like a luminous redwood color behind blue-framed glasses, black jeans that looked sinfully good on him and black t-shirt with sleeves pushed to his elbows. If Viktor had been able to, he was sure his mouth would have gone dry in an instant at the sight of him. No human had any right to be that gorgeous, and Viktor knew in an instant that not only would Makkachin love him, but that Viktor had found his next… friend.
(Friend was putting it mildly. He wanted to date that man. He wanted to marry him. He wanted to live out his literal forever with this man and he didn’t even know his name yet. No one had ever accused Viktor of doing things halfway, after all.)
Before he could even get halfway across the room, however, his heart sank as he watched a smaller, darker skinned man drape himself over his - his, damnit - new friend.
“Yuuuuuuuri,” the newcomer slurred. “You’re the beshtest friend in the wooooorld. I’m lucky. I’m so lucky. Are you my birthday present?” His smile was blinding even in the darkened room.
Yuuri - at least he had a name now - gently peeled the other man off of him. “Yes, Peach, I’m your present. You get a designated driver tonight so you and Sara can party it up and I’ll take you home to Seung Gil and the girls, okay? Go party!”
The birthday boy couldn’t be dissuaded, however, and pulled Yuuri into a group of people with him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting his head on his shoulder.
Viktor wasn’t jealous. Not at all. Of course not.
He still wasn’t jealous when he met Yuuri’s eyes and winked at him. Or when he wrote his phone number on a napkin and tied it to Makka’s collar, sending her over to greet their new friend. And he certainly wasn’t jealous - or turned on, no sir - when Yuuri hefted his friend into a bridal carry and took him out of the bar and into a blue Prius.
Two days later, he was still not jealous when he got a text from an unknown number asking if he was the owner of the second-cutest poodle in existence ?
Second!? She’s the best! And the cutest.
Hmm… Vicchan says otherwise , accompanied by a picture of a brown toy poodle, sitting on its hind legs, making the most glorious puppy dog eyes for the camera while holding a rope toy in its mouth.
Clearly the only way to settle this is with a dog picture war. Viktor was halfway through sending a second message - yes, he was a double-texter - asking Yuuri to meet up to exchange pictures when a flurry of photos assaulted his messaging app. Damn his texting skills…
A week later he was absolutely, completely - no, really - not jealous at all after spending night after night texting Yuuri. Yuuri, who according to his bare-bones Instagram - lived in the city, had a toy poodle, looked adorable in a beanie with cat ears, and was apparently a night owl. I’m working for a video game company, he had explained. I prefer night time so I take the nightshift at the office to work with other timezones. Well, that made sense. Viktor didn’t have a reason for being up at all hours of the night, and luckily Yuuri didn’t ask.
A month later, Viktor was chomping at the (proverbial) bit to get to know Yuuri better, and to see him in person. Understandably wary of meeting a stranger - and not even meeting him, just meeting his dog really - Yuuri hadn’t taken any of his suggestions that they spend time in person as actual requests, and so they had spent more time texting than anything, although there was the occasional FaceTime video when one of the dogs was doing something particularly cute. When, at last, Yuuri had agreed to go out to dinner with him, Viktor had mentioned that he could take the bus and meet at the restaurant (which, of course, he would never do. Busses just smelled funny, and he would not do that to his hair) Yuuri had insisted on picking him up, which suited Viktor and his purposes exactly. Just the other day, he’d seen a screenshot of a social media post on his Instagram search results - clearly Yura’s fault, who had just left for Almaty again after a stopover - where someone joked about the silly things they would do to get access to someone’s neck if they were a vampire.
Well… Viktor was a vampire. And was certainly looking to get more acquainted with Yuuri’s neck. And other parts of him, but the neck first.
He also owned a hallway with quite a bit of art hanging on the walls.
It was a simple matter to turn all of the pictures sideways just before Yuuri arrived. He had it planned out perfectly - he would welcome Yuuri inside (to say hello to Makka, obviously) while he grabbed his coat and scarf, he would come back out to Yuuri with his head turned to the side, wondering why all of the art was like that, and then he would just… Yep. Just one little bite. At first, at least.
He was so convinced of his plan that when Yuuri arrived it didn’t even occur to him to feel nervous about his date with the most gorgeous man in existence, and took extra time selecting from his collection of scarves to give Yuuri time to appreciate the sideways hallway art. Since he was sure Yuuri would be facing away from him, he let his fangs slide out just a small amount until they were pushing lightly on his bottom lip, flipped the end of his scarf over his shoulder and-
And did not get to bite the neck of the most gorgeous man in existence, because that man was currently standing on the wall with his entire body turned sideways to examine the sideways art hanging on Viktor’s hallway with the express purpose of giving him access to Yuuri’s neck.
This certainly threw a wrench into things.
“Yu- Yuur- Yuuri! What are you doing?” he spluttered.
Turning slightly, Yuuri looked over his shoulder. “Admiring the art, of course. You have really good taste.”
“But you’re sideways.”
“The art is sideways,” Yuuri deadpanned. “Why is that, by the way?”
Viktor at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Well, you see-”
“You saw that post on Instagram didn’t you.”
Now that got his attention. “But your Instagram account is so empty! I thought you never went on there.”
Yuuri laughed. “Well, no, but my best friend - who is a werehamster, by the way - is a social media master. He showed me that post last week and thought I would get a laugh out of it.”
Slowly, Viktor started to connect the dots. “So, you’re a-”
“Vampire. Clearly.”
“But you don’t look like one!”
“And you do? What am I supposed to look like, Asian Count Chocula?”
“I thought you were just a night owl!”
“I am.”
“So that’s not the only reason that you’re pale?”
“Viktor… What the hell."
“So you really do work nights?”
“Gotta earn a living somehow. Besides, with the time difference, I work with the Japanese office in the afternoons.”
“So you’re actually a night owl?”
“Some people are just like that , you know.”
“But-”
“Viktor, you’ve seen my house in the background of FaceTime calls. Didn’t it ever occur to you to ask why there’s not a mirror anywhere in sight?”
“I thought you were just confident in your looks!”
Yuuri laughed, a real, deep, heartfelt laugh, and it warmed Viktor’s insides. Stepping off the wall and back onto the carpet, Yuuri held out his hand.
“C’mon, we’re going to be late for dinner. Then maybe we can debunk any of your silly little stereotypes later.”
“...Wait, did you say a werehamster?”