M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

99.| voicemail

"because you," victor said, so angry and panicking so much that he could barely speak; because he was back in that grey sofa yuri katsuki had cried on, listening to phichit talk to him in a shaking voice down the line, piecing together that yuri was doing heroin.

"because you, chris," he went on, "you caused all of this shit. when i was with him, you kissed me - "

"i don't think i fucking did," chris cried out angrily. "you let me. you wanted me to - it's your fault, victor, that he's gone. god, you love yourself, don't you? fuck. can't you see that i love you?"

"don't say that," victor laughed shakily, shaking his head, thinking of needles in yuri's arm, thinking of what chris could've said to him down the phoneline, after yuri had told victor his life was falling apart, after he'd held him on days ago in that very room.

don't panic.
don't panic.
don't panic.

victor stook a deep breath in. yuri knew he'd been sleeping with chris since he'd left - "meaningless sex" - so chris was right, why should it matter? victor sighed in tensed relief; he was just panicking, just panicking.

yuri was fine.

he snatched his phone up from the bed and watched calling contact
yuri🥀... come up on the screen.

"victor - " chris started off. victor didn't say a thing. he was thinking of denim jackets and soft, dark, dark hair.

no answer. victor called again.

"victor - "

no answer. victor called again.

"victor, listen - "

no answer. victor shouted "fuck" and gripped his phone so hard it bit into the skin of his fingers, the sound of yuri's voicemail recording playing in his head.

oh god.
oh god.
oh god.

he saw the messages from yuri, sent to him all the while he was fucking chris giacometti "just for the hell of it."

yuri📼; victor

yuri📼; i want you i need you i i want you i love you victor he hurt me he

yuri📼; fuck

"no, no, no," victor was saying over and over and over again. déjà vu was screaming in his ears; lace-up crop tops, "an encounter", lift lights, "...god, i should've let chris fuck me..."

"you're different," victor shook his head, scrunching up his eyes as if it would put a stop to glass smashing and and hurt eyes in guest bedrooms. "fuck...fuck...look at what you've done - "
victor's head was swimming with thoughts of what luca could've done to yuri, of what chris had said to him, of heroin, of car headlights -

"what i've done?" chris laughed tearfully. "i haven't done anything, victor. this was all you - "

"don't say that this was all my fucking fault," victor shouted, voice choked with tears and panic. "because i know that this is all my fault, i know that i'm the one who's caused all of this - "