M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

62.| lips

"you should be fucking grateful," celestino went on. "i saved you from a life on the streets, gave you a position where you made good money, put a roof over your head, bought you clothes to wear, treated you well. and after all that bullshit with you trying to slit your wrists, the prozac, hospital bills, therapy which you made a scene about and refused to go to."

celestino let out a dry chuckle, whist yuri could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

he wished victor was there, beside him, lacing his fingers with his and telling him how he was worth so much more.

"what a waste of money that was," celestino went on, sighing. "i looked after you, katsuki, despite all of the fucking trouble you've caused me. ill
admit it, sometimes i slapped you around a little - "

the bruise on yuri's face started to kick up a fuss, but yuri refused to let celestino wince once again.

" - but to put you in your place. and then you start getting all defiant, like a stroppy little kid, not wanting to go to those parties, and then you have the fucking nerve to have that victor nikiforov lay a finger on me, and now i'm here, in a fucking police cell."

celestino breathed down the line heavily, as if trying to calm himself down, glancing at the police officers standing two metres away from where he and yuri were seated.

yuri continues to bite at his nail, fear unable to stay at bay, and thinks of victor's soft hands to comfort himself, and the knowledge that his victor is waiting for him outside.

he breathed out slow, reminding himself of leaning his head against the wet tiles of the shower, taking a deep breathe before he used the dripping wet razor in his hand.

he reminded himself of why he was there; to see the face of the man who had damaged him when yuri told him that he wasn't getting out of that cell, all thanks to yuri himself.

the thought stop his hands shaking just a little. just a little.

"celestino - " yuri started, after bracing himself and digging his nails deeper into his palms, but he was cut off by a vicious laugh from the man behind the glass in the orange overalls.

"baby," he snarled, "you shut your fucking mouth and you listen to me, alright?"

celestino lowered his voice, and yuri hated how fear had stolen to words right off of his tongue.

"that stunt you pulled with that boyfriend of yours, that victor nikiforov, landed me in here with charges of human trafficking and grevious bodily harm."

yuri's chest tightened.

"grevious bodily harm?" he echoed.

"the police saw the bruises on that fucking phichit when they looked him over. i mean, christ, is it any wonder i hit the three of you from them to time? driving me up the fucking wall - "

"phichit couldn't walk properly because of what you did to him once," yuri said quietly, anger turning down the volume of his voice and making him grip the phone so tightly that his knuckles went white. "do you remember that? when he didn't want to go to masumi's party after someone had hurt him the time before?"

yuri could hear his voice shaking, and his grip on the phone tightened wen he saw that celestino hadn't batted an eye.

"he was sixteen, and the bruises on his thighs were black. h-he couldn't sit down without crying out, and those painkillers did no - "