Thursday
3:45 p.m.
"Victor......." Yuri whispered delicately as he leaned in close to those dreamy blue eyes, the space between them being unnecessary and undesired.
His hand could feel the burning sensation of the hood of the Jeep as he supported himself, the violet moonlight shining down on them like a luminous flashlight.
Victor couldn't resist touching Yuri's perfect, un-flawed caramel skin as he let his hand hold his cheek, thumb running itself along iridescent skin and enjoying the sensation.
He pulled the brown eyed boy into him with a wistful sigh as he lingered in the moment as long as he possibly could.
He never wanted this to end.
"Yuri, I-I......." Victor couldn't get a sentence out as he shivered from the feeling of Yuri's warm, nicotine bubblegum breath caressing the skin on his face and neck.
Skin that was flushed, and glistening from the desert sun.
"Kiss me," Yuri murmured, in only a soft whisper as his hand played longingly with the denim fabric that belonged to Victor's ripped Levi jeans. "Kiss me like you mean it Nikiforov........"
"Victor......."
"Victor?.............."
"Victor!"
"Earth to Wicky Vicky?!" and I felt myself physically jerk awake and out of my sunshine fueled coma at the sound of my dad's demanding voice.
D-Did I.........
Did I fall asleep??
"Uh......y-yeah. Sorry, I kind of drifted off for a second there," I said as I propped myself up on my hand and pulled myself away from the hot sand, my yellow striped towel sticking to my back as I did so.
I rubbed my face in my hands and stretched my eyes, trying to wake up from that unexpected nap I had taken in the hot summer sun.........
A sun that was staring down at me as I tried to adjust to the feeling of it shining down in my sleepy eyes like a burning cigarette flame.
I scanned my surroundings to find out that I was on the beach, my feet dancing in the sand as I leaned my elbows up on the comforting fabric of my towel and let my head fall back gently.
Jesus, what was that dream?
And why did it feel so real?
I feel like I'm going mad.......
"Drifted off? Bud, you looked as dead as that goldfish Summer bought a couple summers ago. And may I remind you that the son of a bitch only lasted a day or two," my dad said as I tipped my head towards him, my sunglasses sliding down my nose.
I rolled my eyes at him as he laid a strikingly turquoise board down in the sand and ran his hands across it with care, wiping sand and dust off of it as it floated away in the air.
My dad spent almost a good portion of each summer day testing out this new board in the water, figuring out how it felt on the waves and how it felt to his surfing soul.
So, if you thought I had picked up a burning passion for surfing on my own time and own predisposition, you'd be wrong on that.
Like father like son, as they say.
"I wasn't dead. I was taking a nap," I said with burning adolescence as I fell back down on my towel and looked up at the sky like it was a beautiful painting. "I am allowed the right."
"Mhm. As all teenagers do."
I could hear the faint sound of the stereo echo in my ears as I tuned in to the smooth like velvet sound of The Beatles singing "here comes the sun" through the scratchy speakers.
It complimented the sound of the ocean waves crashing down on the shore perfectly as I listened to my dad take a deep breath in and sigh it right back out.
"What's up with you today Vic? You seem like you're on a different planet," he said as I turned my head to see him leave his board and walk over to me, sitting down gently in his plastic chair with a dripping, ice cold bottle of beer.
If by a different planet.......you mean "the planet for boys who can't stop thinking about pretty brown eyed boys," then you'd be right.
I was the fucking leader of that planet.
But I wasn't gonna give that explanation up to my dad as to why I was acting "out of the ordinary."
He would get a different one.
He would not get "oh you know, I just can't get the picture of Yuri Katsuki dancing down sidewalks and smoking cigarettes out of my god damn mind, no matter how hard I fucking try."
It was like a disease.
A disease that made me feel as if I was slowly losing sight of reality and diving deep, deep underwater into a dream.
Of course, I knew that wasn't a real disease.
It was some kind of state of mind that was powerful enough to make you feel what you were thinking.
And god, was I thinking and feeling too many things.
Things that my dad couldn't know about.
Not that he'd want to anyways.
"Jesus, I take a single nap and now I'm acting weird?" I murmured as I turned over and plopped down on my stomach, the warm sensation of the summer sun hitting my back instantly."How many beers have you had?"
"Believe it or not, this is my first one pre-madonna," and my dad's tone was dripping with confidence as he said this, of course. "I can be sober and notice that my son is acting like he's having a life crisis."
"I'm not having a life crisis! In fact, you're the one who's having a mid-life crisis, if anything."
God, where did this fucking attitude come from?
Oh that's right.
I've always had it.
"You know, I knew I had walked into that one but I didn't care enough to walk out of it," my dad said as he took a relaxed sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair like he was the king of the west coast.
I've always hated and never understood the appeal of beer.
I didn't understand how it's bitter taste and aroma could attract anyone's tastebuds or desperate attempt at getting drunk.
If I was going to drink anything, let alone get drunk off my ass because of it.........
It was either gonna be a Cosmo or a shot of cherry flavored vodka.
Which is exactly why I had stayed up into the late night hours that turned into morning last night with Summer.........
Both of us dancing around my room and flinging pillows everywhere with minds and mouths that were intoxicated by, of course, cherry vodka.
Summer and I's favorite.
Because what better way to drown our sorrows than in Wham! records and saturated alcohol.
And what better way to forget about heartbreak than pretend like there was not a single soul in the whole damn world to be capable of breaking it in the first place.
"Good for you Dad, good for you."
"Hey, bud," and suddenly, my dad's tone was soft and caring, like he would shatter if I didn't make a small effort to open up to him. "Seriously, is there anything going on?"
No, not much.
Just casually trying to stay in the closet while also simultaneously trying to confess my feelings to a pretty boy.
Not to mention trying my god damn best not to drown Eric Westley and Alice Delaney in the ocean for not knowing what "commitment" is.
Or even love.
Of course nothing's going on.
I'm fine.
"I'm fine, dad," I said softly as I sat up with my legs criss crossed, giving my dad a small, reassuring smile and looking into his eyes that were screaming with worry. "Really, I am."
He raised his bushy eyebrows in disbelief at me, like he was shocked at how stupid I thought he was.
Oh god, here we go........
"You know what, I think I know what your deal is," he said with his beer swinging in his hand and a blinding smile on his face. "New girl, isn't it?"
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Wh-What?! No, of course not!" I practically yelled as I shot up and off the ground, almost stumbling backwards as I did so. "Jesus, Dad, way too invasive. Didn't we talk about boundaries?"
"Oh, come on. You know you want to talk about it."
Of course I do Dad.
More than anything.
But I.......
I can't.
"Th-There's nothing to talk about," I said defensively as I walked over to the cooler and picked up an ice cold lemonade, my lips wrapping around the glass bottle and feeling the tangy yet sweet nostalgic taste wash down my throat.
I could feel my dad's teasing eyes looking at me and waiting for me to confide in him, but that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.
"Stop looking at me like that!" and I felt myself laugh at the way my dad gave me a grinch like smile as I splashed some of the melted ice water in the cooler at him.
"Wha....like what?"
"Like I'm hiding something. Because I'm not, for your information Arlo Nikiforov," and the loud radio was still loudly contributing to the sounds of our surroundings.
"Oh, you most certainly are, Mr. "I have so much to talk about and express but no one ever understands me because I'm an emotional teenage boy."
I scoffed at my dad's shallow, and quite frankly stereotypical, description of me.
But I had no right.
Because he literally had me in a box.
And if I ever were to have a section in a dictionary or in a magazine article, that would be what you would find next to my name every single time.
"Oh, shut up," I said as I pouted, my feet practically stomping in the sand as I fell back down onto my towel with a frown.
"Please don't tell me you're back with Alice Delaney again," my dad said with a groan as he threw his head back and stuck his beer in the sand. "I never liked her. I barely ever talked to her and I could tell that she was as bitchy as they come. Not to mention, her lovely parents are the most privileged assholes on the west coast."
Once again......
He had Alice Delaney in a box.
And her whole family too.
"God no. I'd rather take Lois Weldon on a date than that prom queen blonde," and I said this with complete seriousness. "And Lois collects weird bugs for a hobby."
Not that there was anything wrong with that.
"By the way, what happened with you and blondie? You never told me," my dad said as he looked at me curiously, my feet twirling as I tried to block the sun from my eyes.
"Well, like you said, she's as bitchy as they come. And call me crazy, but I'm not exactly one to swoon over those kinds of girls."
More like, I'm not exactly one to swoon over any kind of girl at all.
"You're a true man, Victor," my dad said with a sincere laugh as he adjusted his chair and dug his feet in the sand. "I've raised you well."
I felt my dad's eyes leave me as his head turned and looked up at the sun with the intent to lose himself in sleep on the beach, just like I had.
And so I could only assume that was the signal for the end of the conversation.
Much to my relief.
"Sure did Dad. Sure did."
I stretched my arms above my head lazily as I got up and left my towel deserted, my entire body begging for cool air that I knew I could find in the kitchen of my house.
Along with the Rice Krispie treat I could find inside as well.
And so I saw no point in making myself suffer outside with nothing else to do than sit here, stuck in my own angsty teenage thoughts like it was sticky, raw honey.
God knows that was just as miserable as melting in the sun.
So I marched up the beach without any of my belongings and ran my fingers through my hair as I felt a small, shore breeze hit the small of my back........
The sand flinging in the air from my feet that were trying to leave the hot, grainy sensation that it provided.
And eventually, I felt my shoulders relax as I opened the creaky, back porch door and listened to my soaking wet sandals slap against the glossy kitchen tiles.
The smell of leftover pancakes, the slight taste of whip cream in the air, and the blast of ice cold air that gave my burning skin goosebumps hitting me as soon as I made it inside.
But to my surprise, I wasn't alone.
Because I heard a disorganized clatter in my room and a slam to go along with it.
And I knew damn well that it wasn't Makkachin.
Since she was, for one, down at the beach and, two, too god damn fluffy to make a sound like that.
So I, being the easily terrified teenager I was, decided to stealthily grab the wooden baseball bat that was leaning up against one of our cabinets in the dining room.
It was the baseball bat that I had attempted to use during my little league days when I thought I was hot shit.
I thought I was even hotter than the surface of the green grass and puddles of sand I'd run base to base on to get some kind of moment of glory.
But it didn't take long for my whole team, my dad, and the whole Crescent Shores Community to figure out that I couldn't play baseball to save my pretty little ass.
So surfing it was.
Plus a dash of quarterback skills for football.
However, I didn't take much time to reminisce in my field days as I quietly crept up the winding staircase of my house in search for whatever was happening on the second floor.
Please don't let it be a murderer.
Please, please, pretty please.
I don't want to die
I swear I'll go to church more often God.
I'll do whatever you say.........
As I internally begged for mercy, I made my way to the front of my bedroom door, where I (no doubt) heard the sound coming from.......
With my hand hovering over the golden door knob as I prayed to God that this wouldn't be the way in which I died.
I had always pictured epically dying by getting eaten by a shark during a surf session..........
Or maybe by eating an expired strawberry milkshake.....
But it seemed this would be the way in which I would go, and there was no avoiding that.
So I carefully turned the door knob and without wasting a second, flung it open with determination in my eyes and a full swing ready.
"Get the fuck out of my house you murder-AGHHHHHH!" I yelled at the top of my girlish lungs with my bat swung over my shoulder as my eyes fell upon what was in front of me.
That "what" being a thousand times better than what my creative, overthinking brain thought I would run into on the other side of my door.
Because it was no murderer.
In fact........
It was Yuri Katsuki.
With soaking wet hair and glistening, chlorine covered skin that shimmered under the yellow tint of my ceiling light.........
Wearing his cherry red lifeguard swim trunks and nothing but a golden crucifix on his perfect, in every way possible, chest that had me just as speechless as the situation I was in.
And he was looking up at me with wide-open, chestnut eyes with his hands held out in front of him to protect himself from the force of a little league bat that would never hit him.
"It's me, it's me! I swear I'm not a murderer!" he said with a squeaky high voice as he gave me the most innocent look I had ever seen on a face as breathtaking as his.
I dropped that bat faster than my algebra grade had dropped during my second semester of freshman year.
"Yuri? What the.....wh-what are you doing here?" I said in a softer tone of voice as I watched him recompose himself, my eyes wandering over every inch of him longingly.
Don't look at his abs Victor.
Don't you fucking dare.
Oh my god, you fucking did it!
I hate myself.
"I-uh.....I was dropping by to say hello?" he said with a big, uncertain smile as he nervously laughed.
"You couldn't have done so by going through the front door? Or maybe coming to find me on the beach?" I said with attitude hidden behind my tone, even though it was impossible to be angry with him. "You scared me to death!"
"Ha, I know!" he said as he walked towards me and out of my room, giving me a devilish smirk as he brushed up against my shoulder in doing so. "You should have seen the look on your face! It took every bone in my body not to pass out from laughing so hard."
I rolled my eyes at the confidence in his step and the juvenile tone that was dripping off of his tongue as he ran down the steps and into the kitchen like it was his own home.
And I had no problem with this.
At. All.
"I know damn well that you're not here to say hello Yuri Katsuki." I followed him like a puppy dog into the kitchen as I watched him search my pantry, his hands struggling to grab something as he reached up on his tippy toes.
"What, I can't say hello to my favorite, number one, unflawed, best friend in the whole wide world?" and my eyes followed his lips as I watched him delicately tear open a Twinkie and bite into it.
I could die happy after seeing Yuri Katsuki eat a Twinkie in my own kitchen.
"Of course you can. It's just that.....I know that someone like you goes nowhere without a motive," I said as I walked up to him and took his Twinkie away with a smirk that beat his any day, taking my own bite as I pushed myself up on the counter and crossed my legs.
Yuri just stood there, looking up at me with those eyes like I had burned down his whole house and killed his cat in the process.
"Hey, I deserve that Twinkie! I worked my ass off at work while you got drunk off of cherry vodka last night with Summer," he said as he ran up to me and tried to grab the sugary concoction from my hands, failing miserably.
"Whoa whoa whoa, how the fuck did you know about that?" still sitting there smugly as Yuri stood in front of me with his arms crossed and strands of hair in his frustrated face.
"Probably because you called me at 3 a.m. and drawled on and on about how much you loved Swedish fish and hated Eric Westley."
Thank god I hadn't drawled on and on about something else.
About the fact that I go weak in the knees every time I see Yuri and his brown eyes.
About how every moment I don't spend with him, I spend thinking about him.
About how I would choose him over a pack of Swedish fish any day.
And god, it seemed like something drunk Victor would say.
And exactly what a really stupid sober Victor would have said.
"I wasn't that drunk," I said defensively as I hopped off the counter and slid over to the fridge, feeling Yuri's eyes on me as I did so.
"Yeah, wipe your mouth, there's still a little bit of bullshit left on your lips Victor Nikiforov," and he couldn't feel satisfied enough at stating this and instead felt the need to act it out as he grabbed my Twinkie and smeared it on my lips.
The sugary cream leaving my lips sticky as I attempted to do the same thing to him.
We were like two little kids with all the time in the world to waste as we ran around the kitchen with Twinkie crumbs on our wide smiles that screamed absolute adolescence.
"Oh, you think you're so fucking funny, don't you?" I said as I tackled him to the floor, the cold kitchen tiles putting goosebumps on Yuri's skin, my observant eyes not being able to miss even the smallest of details.
"I don't think, I am."
Immediately, Yuri's words had provoked my hand to slam what was left of the Twinkie onto his face, his eyes closing in surprise and his lips gasping out in shock.
"Oh, guess you finally got to eat your Twinkie Katsuki," I said with a tone that held justice behind it, watching Yuri closely as he wiped it off of his lips with a frown.
"Guess I did, asshole."
"Oh, your insults are too much for me to handle!" and I had never held so much sarcasm in my tone like I had in that sentence and in this moment.
But even though my brain and my lips could only laugh and smile at the fact that I had won.........
My eyes couldn't tear themselves away as they washed over Yuri's brown eyes that looked so distinct in the pale, pastel light of my kitchen.......
Trailing down from his cute nose to the pink bubblegum tint in his cheeks..........
All the way to his lips that my eyes finally stayed glued to as my finger, out of a reflex or some mindless desire, reached up to wipe away the sweet residue of an unnecessary Twinkie.
Lips that were delicately open as my finger touched the soft, perfect surface of them, my breathing heavy as I listened to Yuri's own breath hitch in the back of his throat.
What the fuck are you doing Victor?
Stop it, you're making things worse.
You don't want this...........
Stop, stop, stop..............
The voice in my head seemed to float away as I looked down at the angelic brunette underneath me, his face relaxed and yet on edge at the same time, like he didn't know what to do but knew what to desire.......
And god, did I know without a doubt exactly what I was desiring.
Because I couldn't stop myself.
I couldn't fucking stop myself.
No matter how many times the voice in my head said that I didn't want it, or how many times my mind told me that this was wrong and sabotaging.
I didn't care
I didn't care.
For the first time in my life, on the cold tiled floor of that kitchen with Yuri's red swimsuit trunks against my legs and his eyes on mine.............
I didn't care.
"You got a little something there," I said in a bare whisper as I watched Yuri give me a smile that made me melt as if I was laying underneath the sun outside.
"Gee, I didn't notice," and his voice flowed into my ears like it was sugary sweet, and a melt in your mouth kind of perfect.
Yuri...............
You're perfect.
You're so...............
"Victor, I," he said breathlessly as I felt his fingers daintily trace the skin of my collarbone, sending vivid shivers down my back as I leaned in closer.........
Closer............
Closer.............
Until my lips could almost feel and taste Yuri's own lips, lips that I knew would be so much sweeter than a glass bottle of lemonade or a pantry Twinkie.......
Lips that I knew I'd do anything to kiss, and kiss, and kiss.........
Until I had no more teenage love and desire to give to him.
Even though I felt as if I could only give to Yuri and never take.
But it seemed that I'd never get that opportunity.
And it seemed that Makkachin was more than willing to take as she ran in through her doggie door and pounced into the kitchen, right on top of us.
The moment that I had held onto a moment ago disappearing into the simple breeze that was let into the kitchen from the small crack in the window above the stove.
Never to be seen again.
Because I'd never get enough courage.......
And Yuri would never look at me in the way he had on the surface of my kitchen floor on that Summer morning ever again.
"Jesus Makkachin!" I yelled as I got off of Yuri instantly, leaning up against the stove and watching the coffee brown poodle lick and tackle Yuri like he was her favorite toy.
It seemed that, whether Yuri wanted to be or not, he was now stuck to the tiled floor as he laughed tirelessly and tickled Makkachin's curly brown fur with a smile on his face.
His laugh was like the sensation of the ocean's low tide during the late hours when the moonlight would shine down on the turquoise hue of the soft ripples.
It was calm, and beautiful........
Yet just as special and powerful as the waves crashing down on the shore during the violent tide that existed under the burning sun of daylight.
And so I desperately tried to lose myself in the sound of it, just so I could forget about the mistake I had made only meaningless seconds ago.
I could only pray to god that Yuri was trying to forget about it too.
But it seemed he hadn't.
I looked over at him to see that he was now sitting on the counter, his legs dangling over the wooden cabinets that were painted eggshell white, his feet swinging back and forth intently.
Surprisingly, he was wearing worn out black flip flops instead of his white converse that I knew I could always catch him wearing.
And he was looking down at the kitchen tiles like he was pretending they were the most interesting, and most captivating things in the room.
Even then, I couldn't miss the scarlet blush on his face and the way his perfect eyelashes masked his nervous brown eyes.
This is my fault.
It's my fault that he's looking at kitchen tiles instead of me and blushing like a madmen.
You've really done it now golden boy.
"U-Uh, you know you're right Vic," and I practically jumped in excitement (and in some kind of relief) at the sound of his voice echoing in the kitchen as his eyes finally left the tiles and looked at me with a smile.
What did I do to deserve this?
"Right about what?"
"I didn't come over here to say hello."
He had a mischievous smile spread across his face as he said this and slid down the counter, his flip flops clicking on the floor as he stood in the kitchen doorway with his hands on the doorframe confidently.
"I know you all too well, Yuri Katsuki.
So, what's the motive for adventure you have for me?"
He let out a small hum of contentment as I watched him closely.
More specifically, watched the way his arms flexed under the pressure of the doorframe.
I wouldn't be surprised if, in the next second, I was found dead on the kitchen floor with the ambulance circling me........
The culprit of my murder still standing in the doorway with a knowing smirk and shining eyes.
But I'd refrain from dying in this moment, at the least.
I had made it this far.
"Well, a drunk little birdie told me that Mr. Eric Westley ran off with Summer's heart in his hand and kissed Alice till she couldn't breathe at the back of the gas station," he said dramatically and with flair, not being able to hold back my laugh at the fact that I, was undoubtedly that drunk little birdie.
"Is that true?"
"Sadly, yes." I could feel my fist clench next to my navy swim trunk covered hips as I looked away with a scowl that still held enough anger to start a fight. "I swear to god, if I ever see him again, I'll fucking......."
"Hey, hey, hey...." Yuri approached me with a sloppy laugh as he poked my chest, pushing me back as I hit the stove with a glare in his direction. "Slow down, hot rod. We don't need an Outsiders worthy gang up in the crime free town of Crescent Shores."
"Hey, you'd be surprised. We can get pretty down and dirty here."
"Oh yeah? What, do you guys forget to go to church on Sundays?" and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the fact that he thought he was so damn "cool."
"Technically, you don't have to go to church on Sundays because on the seventh day, God said to rest. And guess what the seventh day is? Sunday."
"Oh, you holy fucking smart ass. Teach me the ways of your Gospel."
"I would, but you're not worthy. You're a sinner from Jersey Shore."
"Okay, can I continue with my "motive" or are you just gonna sass me all morning?" he said as he leaned his back up against the fridge and gave me a raised eyebrow that screamed judgement.
"You're the one who started it Katsuki."
"Shut up, Nikiforov."
We stayed caught up in a long moment of tension as we just looked at each other with complimenting smirks and daring eyes.
But it didn't last long.
Because before I knew it.........
I was being dragged out of my house by Yuri Katsuki and he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey, hey! Stop!" I yelled as I tried to break free from his surprisingly tight grasp on my wrist and run back inside. "The hell are we going?!"
"We're going on a ride fish boy. And you're driving me there in your badass car and playing me Frankie Valli on the way," he said as we made it to my car, his feet jumping up into the seat as he sat there like he owned it. "Did I mention you don't have a choice?"
"I figured that was already a given."
"Ugh, you're so smart. You know that?"
"Of course I do. But, where are we going exactly?"
"That's a surprise. Oh, and did I mention we're meeting Summer there in order to mend her broken heart?"
"No. Of course you didn't."
And so I hopped into the drivers seat of my car and didn't waste a second in turning the dial on the radio as I drove down the street..........
Knowing that I had gotten myself into another adventure with the pretty brown eyed boy that I just couldn't stop thinking about.
☆
hey lovelies!
It's been a hot minute.
Just thought I'd update this book to let you all know that yes, it is alive......
and that you're still not even close to the good part.
You guys are gonna get way too shook eventually.
So keep on voting and commenting!
Hope you guys enjoyed the amount of Victuri I put in this, along with the adorable relationship between Victor and his dad.
And I'll see you all in the next chapter.
Much love 💕
~audrey