babyy🌈: hey
victor🥒: oh my fucking god
victor🥒: where have you been yuri??
victor🥒: i've been so worried, oh my god, you have no idea
victor🥒: call me yuri i want to here your voice and hear that you're alright god i've been so worried
babyy🌈: i'm sorry i can't
victor🥒: can't what?? baby what is it?? you can't do what?? talk to me yuri
victor🥒: i'm right here baby talk to me
babyy🌈: i can't call you
babyy🌈: he's in the other room
babyy🌈: and he'll hear me and get angry
babyy🌈: i'm not supposed to be talking to you victor
victor🥒: why? what's going on yuri tell me i'm fucking worried about you
victor🥒: are you hurt?
babyy🌈: no
babyy🌈: no i'm fine
victor🥒: really? what were you talking about?? i've been fucking worried about you, yuri, jesus
babyy🌈: i'm fine i promise
victor🥒: good
victor🥒: thank god you're alright, yuri
babyy🌈: you were really worried about me?
victor🥒: of fucking course i was
"what are you doing?" jj asked, peeking at victor's phone over his shoulder.
"fuck off," victor said simply, switching his phone off in a matter of seconds. "haven't you got anything better to do, jean-jaques?"
"you sound like my mother," jj grumbles, and slumps back on the white sofa yuri katsuki had fallen asleep on days before under victor's arm. victor switched on his phone to text yuri once more - he was still worried about someone hurting the dark, dark haired angel who cried his chocolate eyes out to victor on the same sofa jj leroy wa now sprawled out on.
"victor, who are you texting?" georgi said, coming into the room wth chris behind him. victor groaned and rolled his eyes, and stuffed his phone into the the pocket of his acid-washed jeans.
"jesus," he sighed. "no fucking privacy in your house, is there, chris?"
chris smirked.
"it's yuri," chris chuckled, and jj wolf-whistled. victor shot him a steely stare with shark blue eyes.
"you fuck me off one more time and i tell that pretty little fiancée of yours that your doing heroin now."
the room went a little too silent, and jj pulled his shirt sleeves down even further to hide the now two red dots on his left forearm.
"why are you so fucking touchy?" georgi asked, his english hard to decipher due to his strong accent, as his skating career had been going on for far less time than victor's had an thus he had been around english speakers less often. victor shook his head dismissively.
"no, seriously, victor," chris said, sitting down next to the dark-faced jj. "is it because your in love with yuri or what? you never seem to want to talk about him or anything."
"who even is this?" georgi asked, looking at chris and victor in turn, confused.
"victor's fucking boyfriend," jj grouched. victor glared at him.
"he's an ex-figure skater," chris explained. "he still gets invited to parties and things, and victor met him at one of mine."
"of course he gets invited to all these parties," jj snickered. "he's a hooker, isn't he, victor? a fucking whore, if i remember. coming into everyone - including chris. thought you had taste after you dated that french model but a whore, victor?"
victor stood up so fast it made jj jump, and he kicked over chris's coffee table in fury at the canadian's words.
"what the fuck did you just say?"
both chris and georgi jumbled to their feet to hold victor back from jj, who looked away from the furious victor and said nothing.
"maybe you should go, jj," chris mumbled.
"don't worry," jj spat, snatching up his jacket. "i'm already fucking gone."
he slammed the door behind him, and victor's tense muscles slackened under chris's grip and his breathing started to slow down.
"his fiancée left him," georgi explained, opening up a bottle of red wine after a nod from chris and pouring three glasses.
"yuri going to be there on friday?" chris asked softly, letting go of victor's arms.
"why do you ask?" victor asked viciously. "because he's a "fucking whore," huh? do you know what his favourite colour is? or that his mother taught him to cook every meal he knows. no you fucking don't."
and victor copied jj leroy by snatching up his jacket and slamming the door to chris' penthouse after him, with yuri katsuki's tearful words fresh in his sober mind.
"are you comparing me to you? are you comparing me to the victor nikiforov? victor, my bedroom walls are plastered with posters of you, and no one knows a thing about me."
oh, but yuri.
you're worth so much more than me.