"move."
"but - "
"come on, yuri, get your shit together. jesus christ, heroin? what the fuck where you playing at?"
victor stood back behind the door, peering through the glass and hearing every fucking word that this man threw at yuri. and it made him angry; so angry that he physically couldn't move from behind the doors. he stood there as if stuck with glue.
"wait," victor heard yuri say, looking weak and tired and trying to stop this man from urging him to get dressed. "i-i don't think i can...go...yet..."
"what's the matter with you?" the man snapped, when yuri's voice started to falter. "and hey," he grabbed yuri's face by the jaw and turned his face towards him roughly, making victor seethe from behind the glass. he still couldn't move.
"and hey, we're going, yuri, alright? i don't give a fuck if the doctors say you aren't ready i mean look at you, you just need to sleep. so get moving, baby, let's go."
victor jumped at the sound of this man, who was talking to yuri in such a way calling him "baby."
"you're going to be alright, baby, you hear me?"
"i'm tired," yuri tried to say in a loud voice, and the man pushed him away roughly so that yuri cried out.
"you tired, huh? wake up," the man said loudly, and slapped yuri's face hard.
and victor snapped.
"hey," he shouted, furious, confusion of who this man in the suit was making him ever the more angry as he strode into the room. yuri blinked at him from the bed, shocked, and yet victor could have kidded himself that he saw the traces of a smile on his soft lips.
the anger victor felt as the sound of this man hurting his angel resonated in his ears was overwhelming; he dug his nails into his palms to calm himself down, but it didn't seem to be doing much.
"what do you think you're doing?" victor demanded, and felt his fingers itch again at the sight of red marks on yuri's jaw from this man's grip. "and who the fuck are you to touch him?"
"what you going to do, kid? call security?"
"maybe i fucking will."
"oh, oh, i'm so scared. now what the fuck do you want?" the man in the expensive suit - a suit by hugo boss, victor could now tell - replied in a steely, menacing voice which took victor by surprise. "come on, yuri, fucking move, would you?"
yuri winced.
this man tossed yuri his clothes from the chair by his bed, and toms him to get ready. and whilst victor tried find the words he wanted to say - to help ease the anger he felt - yuri only messed around with the waistband of his jeans, and victor could see how tired he looked, big brown eyes worried yet almost half-closed.
yuri could barely speak without getting tired, because the effects of the heroin were still wearing off.
"he's not going anywhere, he needs to rest. you can't discharge him yourself," victor managed to this man, trying to keep his voice level and fingers flexed.
the man ignored him completely, and rolled his eyes angrily at yuri.
"yuri," the man said, when he saw that yuri was nearly asleep again, slapping him on the arm and jolting him awake with a small cry. "what's the matter with you?"
victor felt this anger - greater than that he had felt towards jj after finding yuri in his hotel room - surge up again and reach his fingers, which itched to curl into a fist when that man hit yuri katsuki, and made him cry out.
"he isn't going anywhere," victor laughed, crossing his arms. the man raised an eyebrow, and turned away from yuri to face victor. yuri gave victor an anxious look; he looked scared.
"and who the fuck are you?" this man demanded, staring daggers at victor. and even though his eyes were willing to close and his body wasn't ready to function, yuri still managed to shake his head at victor anxiously, as if to say "leave now."
but victor hadn't lied; he wasn't going to leave his angel again. especially not with a man in a boss suit who laid his hands on him when he was too weak to defend himself.
"victor nikiforov," victor said with a fake smile, gritting his teeth to control himself, and gave his hand for the other to shake.
"well, i should've recognised you from all those billboards and interviews, huh? celestino cialdini," he replied, with a countering smile, shaking victor's hand with hands rough to the touch. victor pulled away from him and dropped the act.
"he's not going fucking anywhere," he threw at celestino, his anger slipping away through his fingers without warning. "he's not well for christ's sake, is he? so who the fuck do you think you are, coming in here to drag him away. jesus christ, do you want to kill him?"
"no," celestino chuckled, looking over at yuri on the bed, who's clothes lay over his bedsheets and was messing about with his jeans, not meeting celestino's eye. "that exactly what i don't want to do. and besides," he winked at yuri, "i know from experience that he's got it covered for me. i've just got to watch out next time, haven't i yuri? before you slit your fucking wrists again."
victor's words jarred in his mouth, and he saw yuri wince. and he felt the lump in his throat growing bigger again. he looked over at his angel, who's head was bent as if in shame, running at the bandages on his arms.
"so yuri," celestino began, sitting down in the chair by his bed that victor had sat in all night. "this is your boyfriend, huh? the famous victor nikiforov. good to finally meet him, after all the shit he's put me through."
victor didn't understand what celestino was saying, but the anger coursing through his veins and making his legs shake didn't give him time to process his words. he took one more look at yuri lying on the bed, looking so small and helpless next to this celestino with the large, rough hands and heavy-sounding boots and boss suit.
"yuri," celestino went on, "i'm bored now. get dressed, and we're going. did that make it in through thick skull, huh?"
"what the fuck is wrong with you?" victor cried, grabbing at the end of the bed to steady himself; the anger was overpowering.
"he can sleep at home, can't you, yuri? you aren't dying, are you? so let's get a fucking move on, huh?"
victor couldn't control his anger any longer when he looked at yuri in the hospital bed once more, and saw the tears in his eyes.
"he's not fucking going anywhere," victor said, striding over and grabbing celestino by the shirt where he sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "he's not fucking going anywhere until the doctors say that he can, you hear me? he nearly died, you bastard, he nearly died."
"steady on, boy," celestino glowered, "i don't care if you're rich as fuck, i'll kill you."
"try me," victor growled, and let go of his shirt so that celestino fell back further into the chair. victor looked over to yuri, who looked so tired and so frightened and on who's soft lips victor could have kidded himself he saw the traces of a smile.
"you're going to be fine, hey?" victor smiled at him, and was unable to stop himself from kissing yuri's forehead due to longing and the want to protect his angel from the heroin he had been injecting and this man in the boss suit.
"i'll be waiting outside," celestino boomed, getting up from the chair with a creak of plastic. "you better be ready in ten fucking minutes, yuri, you hear?"
"don't listen to him," victor said fiercely when yuri winced. "you're not going fucking anywhere, moya lyubov. not until they say that you can."
"fuck about if you want to, yuri," celestino threw back at him, "but baby - "
victor's one hand had grabbed yuri's, the other was grasping a handful of the bedsheets once more to control himself.
" - i won't be nice if you don't, eh?"
and with that the doors swung shut behind him, and victor couldn't stop himself from kissing yuri's cheek.
but yuri cried out softly.
"what did i do? did i get you? are you scared of him, don't be, baby - "
"no," victor heard the softest of voices say, yuri's fingers cupping his cheek. "it's just...i...it wasn't you..."
victor took away yuri's fingers to see a darkening, grey bruise on his cheek, which victor had failed to notice before when blinded by anger and love, want and appreciation.
the concealer had hidden it well.
"yuri, who did this to you?" victor was so angry at the thought of someone hitting his angel that his voice had all but disappeared. yuri said nothing, and looked back down at the jeans lying over his legs.
"did he do this to you?" victor demanded suddenly, remembering celestino's grip around yuri's jaw, leaving red marks and making him cry out. "did he, yuri? did he hurt you?"
soft dark, dark hair fell into yuri's eyes, and before victor could stroke it back behind his ear yuri pushed it out of his eyes and sighed.
"of course i'm scared of him," he replied in a quiet voice, eyes focused on the bright ceiling lights and willing to close.
victor swallowed down his anger at his angel's words, and the memory of celestino's voice only moments before.
" - i won't be too nice of you don't, eh?"
"i-i have to go with him, victor," yuri managed to say, shaking his head to keep himself awake.
"yuri, you're still recovering, ok? you need to rest. heroin slows down everything in your body, ok? and you haven't recovered yet. you need to wait until the doctors say that you're fine - yuri, stop, what are you doing?"
"i have to go with him," yuri said, still looking tired as he pulled on his jeans u set the sheets and sat up.
"no you fucking don't," victor said, putting his hands on yuri's shoulders. yuri opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.
gently, he put his soft hands on victor's and took them off of his shoulders.
"he's going to hurt me if i don't," yuri said quietly, before sitting up on the bed and pulling the hospital gown over his head.
and victor was reminded of the late night texts yuri had sent him, which he had only seen the next morning because he was high up in the sky.
sugar🍭: do you love me, victor nikiforov
sugar🍭: i need to know if you love me
sugar🍭: because he's going to hurt me, victor
sugar🍭: and i want to hear that you love me
sugar🍭: even if you're lying to me