"Uuum, okay...can I get a large iced hazelnut latte with soy milk and two extra shots?"
Yuri Plisetsky desperately tried not to roll his eyes as he started to jot down demands with a sharpie on a plastic cup.
"Also, add a pump of vanilla to that, whip cream and chocolate drizzle."
"Got it." At that point it was technically french vanilla, but whatever. Setting the cup aside, Yuri rang up the order and collected payment.
He made the drink methodically, going through the same boring motions, annoyed at the semi-obnoxious complexity of the drink. That month marked his one year anniversary working at the quaint coffee house named Café Latte. It paid only slightly above minimum wage and was quite frankly irritating and mind numbing most of the time. Being a barista was not the work he had envisioned himself doing, but attempts to find another job lately had proven fruitless.
"Here you go." He slammed the cup down onto the counter carelessly and slid it forward.
"Shit...did I say a pump of vanilla?" The man picked up the cup and eyed it warily. "I meant caramel. Can you fix it?"
"No."
"What? Why not?" Setting the cup back on the counter, the man slid it back towards Yuri. "Come on. I'm a paying customer. It's bad business practice to refuse a customer reasonable service."
"That flavor combo sounds disgusting," insisted Yuri. "I'm not remaking it."
"How rude. Can I speak to your manager?"
"He's not here." Yuri slid the cup back again. "Listen, it's been a long day. Just take the drink and go."
"How can there be no manager here? What kind of excuse for a business is this…"
"Just take the fucking drink and go!" Yuri was honestly considering dumping the thing on the man's head if he didn't leave soon. He had remade one too many drinks that day with all of his scatterbrained customers screwing up their own orders. The fact that he was once again short on rent was also weighing heavily on his mind, wearing his patience paper-thin.
"You know what? Fine, I'll take the damn drink because I don't feel like standing here any longer and arguing with a rude kid." The man grabbed the drink and started walking towards the door. "I'm definitely telling other people not to come here, though. I may even contact the newspaper about this awful service."
"Go ahead." Yuri waved his hand dismissively. "And I'm not a damn kid!" he added to the man's retreating back as he left the shop.
"You really should stop treating the customers so poorly."
Yuri turned towards his co-worker, a beautiful and feisty redhead named Mila Babicheva, sweeping the floor in the slight distance. "When they stop being annoying as hell, I'll stop being an ass to them," he said with a huff.
"That is not how customer service works, and you know it." Mila laughed, then shook her head. "Just because you're a friend of the family, doesn't mean Viktor won't fire you one day for that kind of behavior. Considering the local economy that would be pretty bad right now, huh?"
She was right and it set his anxiety soaring. It wasn't like he had many options to begin with. His mother was gone, he had never really known his father, and his grandfather had moved south in hopes of easing his health conditions. The winters were harsh in their rundown, industrial city and he did not have many friends to rely on once he was set adrift. He thought back to that awful day he had found himself truly alone, watching a U-Haul containing the only family that cared about him eventually vanish around a corner. The feeling of isolation had been crippling, hitting him much harder than he had anticipated. He resorted to burying it under copious layers of bitterness and rage. Social graces had never been his forte anyways.
In the scramble to find a place to live, he had ended up renting an apartment -fashioned from the top level of an old brick building- in a questionable neighborhood. Despite the more than reasonable cost of living, he somehow still struggled to make ends meet. Budgeting had also never been one of his strong points. The first few months had been horrible, and if not for the generous and kind help of Viktor Nikiforov and his partner, Yuuri Katsuki, he probably would have been forced out onto the streets. He had known Viktor a long time and considered him to be like a brother, though he often wondered if Viktor tolerated him merely for the sake of his grandfather.
"Viktor's not going to fire me." He spoke with such conviction, he almost believed himself.
"Keep running away his customers and we'll see about that." Mila smiled and continued to sweep. "Start cleaning the machines, it's almost closing time."
"Don't tell me how to do my job, old lady," Yuri snapped, but turned to do as he was told.
"And if you keep calling me that I'm going to break this broomstick across your thick skull," she said without even bothering to pause. Her tone promised pain but Yuri didn't care.
"Whatever." That time he did roll his eyes before attending to the espresso machine.
Over the next hour, Mila and Yuri cleaned, then ran through the rest of the closing checklist. He thought about how the old, dimly lit building never really looked as clean as it could, age having added a faint patina of permanent grime to the surfaces. It certainly could use a remodel but Viktor had claimed to adore its vintage charm. Yuri finished preparing the cold brew coffee for the next day just as the clock hit the 9 pm closing time. They bundled up, shut the lights off, and locked up after they left. Viktor would probably be back within the hour to count the till and inventory for the day, but they weren't required to hang around until he showed up. Some days he never even made it until the next morning.
"Drive safe." Mila recited her normal farewell before climbing into her red Mustang.
"You too," he responded automatically.
Yuri shoved a hand in his jacket pocket to fish out his car keys. He tried not to sigh as he unlocked the door of his beat up classic Buick Skylark. It would have been a nice car if the engine and body weren't in such poor shape. Car theft was rampant in the city, and considering where he lived, owning a decent car was misfortune waiting to happen. His vehicle roared to life much less gracefully than the Mustang but he was glad it was running well at all. He really couldn't afford to sink any more money into it currently.
The drive to his apartment was relatively short, and he made a small detour for soda on the way. He eyed the liquor bottles longingly as he purchased his assortment of Cola and Citrus flavored beverages. One more month to go before he could legally purchase them. Viktor had given him a bottle of average vodka several months ago, but he didn't have enough left to get properly hammered.
As soon as he set foot inside the door, his cat Snowball greeted him by trying to trip him on the way to the kitchen. He stowed the soda away in the fridge and picked her up, cooing to her softly as he made his way to the living room. The place was decently furnished considering his grandfather had gifted him nearly half of his furniture before he left. Yuri was beyond grateful and willingly crammed as much of it as he could into the rooms. It made it feel more familiar and had comforted him through many lonely nights.
After plopping down on the couch, Yuri multitasked by turning on the TV, opening his laptop, and petting Snowball. It was his normal routine. Check the weather, turn on a show for background noise, give the cat some affection, and check his social media. He had eaten at work, so that wasn't a concern. Ten minutes into his browsing, Skype notified him that he had a message. He checked who it was and groaned.
[Christophe G] What's up, little Yuri?
[Yuri P] don't call me that, I AM NOT LITTLE ANYMORE
[Christophe G] Still keyed up over your money troubles?
[Yuri P] that's none of your business
[Christophe G] I'll take that as a yes. If you're interested, I can suggest a possible solution that doesn't include pawning your belongings
Yuri considered telling Chris to fuck off, but rent was due next week and he was at the point of desperation. He couldn't ask Viktor to front him money again since he hadn't even fully paid him back from the last time.
[Yuri P] what is it?
[Christophe G] a website called "Mature Arrangement". It's like a modified version of a dating site
[Yuri P] how is a fucking dating site going to help me make rent?
[Christophe G] I said it was a "modified version" of a dating site. This one is geared towards m/m but if you want I can direct you towards an f/m alternative
[Yuri P] no that's fine. send me the link
Christophe promptly sent the link and Yuri clicked on it, curious to see what nonsense was being suggested. The site was tastefully designed and a quick ambiguous introduction led him to a section stating he could sign up as either a "daddy" or "sugar baby". After a moment of staring blankly at the screen, Yuri suddenly startled sending Snowball scrambling off his lap. He started furiously tapping at his keyboard.
[Yuri P] you motherfucker what the hell did you send me?! this is some sick sugar daddy shit! I'm not fucking old dudes for money, you bastard!
[Christophe G] Calm down, Yuri, and let me explain please. I've used this site and it's not necessarily like that. The members on both sides are of all different ages, and you can set your preferences to ones you like
These are arrangements and most of the people I interacted with didn't even want to meet me in person. We communicated online or through texts. They were gentlemen and I got a lot of nice stuff out of it, as well as money
Yuri paused to consider the information. It didn't sound as bad as he initially suspected and he definitely wouldn't describe himself as someone who was shy. Getting paid for a little online companionship wouldn't put him out and he did not currently have any other options.
[Christophe G] It's just a friendly suggestion, kitten. Make an account and see what happens. It can't hurt to try
[Yuri P] DON'T CALL ME KITTEN, GROSS WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?
He could practically hear Christophe giggling through the computer.
[Christophe G] Gotta go. Take care and let me know how it goes!
Yuri closed the chat with a growl. He returned to the web page and stared at it intently, chewing on a painted nail. The header sported the saying "Mature Arrangement – Mature Companionship" with links to "How it Works", "About Us", "Q&A", "Login", and "Join". He grumbled some curses under his breath and clicked the Join button. Before filling out the necessary fields he shook his head vigorously, releasing long blond strands from the messy top knot he'd put it into before work. He felt ridiculous choosing the sugar baby option.
After typing in his basic information, he paused at the username section. He sure as hell wasn't going to use his actual name so he sat and thought about what would be suitable. No immediate ideas sprang to mind, so he stood and went into the kitchen. The biting February chill seeped through his socks from the worn hardwood floor as he deliberated over his snacking options. He eventually chose a bag of veggie chips and Mountain Dew.
Returning to the living room, he padded across the antique Caucasian Kazak rug that had graced the floors of his grandfather's quaint house for countless years. He had another few hanging on various walls, which served the dual purpose of honoring his heritage and covering the cracks in the plaster. He couldn't tell if it kept the apartment warmer or dampened sound, but he enjoyed the aesthetic they provided.
He sat back down and tugged a crochet afghan from the back of the couch over his shoulders. He'd found it at a thrift store and it had quickly became his favorite blanket with its chevron pattern and 70's palette of burnt orange, yellow, and brown. Sometimes he wondered who made it and if he could make one himself. He had even gone as far as to research "how to crochet". It didn't look that difficult.
Warm, comfortable, and munching on his chips, Yuri started to ponder a username once again. Snowball settled next to him on the extra expanse of blanket and fell asleep. Maybe something to do with cats since they were his favorite animal. It was apparent from the excessive amounts of leopard and cheetah print clothing he owned that he adored felines. Mila constantly poked fun at his tastes and Christophe had annoyingly picked up the habit of calling him "kitten" for it. He cringed. Kitten was definitely off the table.
Deciding it was not a big deal and the site would likely not work out for him, he quickly punched in a name he had used in the past, IceTigerXIII. Next he set his age and appearance preferences, basics on what he was and wasn't looking for in the arrangement, wrote a short bio, and uploaded a few pictures. The whole process took about fifteen minutes and he made sure to choose pictures that somewhat obscured his face but showed off his physique. Artistic shots, as Viktor liked to call them. If they wanted to see more of him, it would cost them.
Yuri closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table. He nestled into the couch and blanket to finish his chips and watch some TV. After suffering through a b horror movie that was so bad it was almost good, he was ready to call it a night. He gathered up Snowball and made his way to the bedroom. The queen size bed on a platform frame took up the most space, and the dresser, wardrobe, nightstands, plus steamer trunk cluttered the remainder.
Yuri shucked off all his clothes except his boxer briefs, pulled the elastic band from his hair, turned off the bedside lamp, and crawled under the covers. Snowball snuggled up to him and he quickly fell asleep. He woke roughly eight hours later automatically, as he normally did, and groaned. His alarm clock read 8:21. He could definitely afford to sleep in longer and the bed was so comfortable and warm. Yuri was not a morning person and sometimes wondered if he was secretly a vampire. Another hour of sweet slumber passed and he woke the second time to Snowball pawing at his hair.
Sitting up and stretching, Yuri yawned into one hand while petting Snowball with the other. He crawled out of bed and pulled on sweatpants, a fuzzy cheetah print robe, and slippers. His hair was probably a mess but nobody was around to care, so he just scratched at it absently as he walked to the kitchen.
He scooped coffee into a filter and poured water into the reservoir on autopilot, then leaned against the counter to wait as the machine bubbled to life. The windows afforded him a lovely view of the bleak weather, reminding him he had forgotten to draw the curtains the previous night. Overcast. It always seemed to be overcast in the winter. The coffeemaker sputtered its last bit of filtered water signaling the pot was ready. He quickly fixed himself a cup, ladling in two spoonfuls of sugar and some holiday creamer. It had been on sale and snickerdoodle was a surprisingly good flavor.
He flipped the TV on out of habit. Checking the weather was a common practice and it was always wise to be aware of coming snow or ice storms. Flurries were forecasted for the evening but otherwise it was the same dull, cloudy day as yesterday.
He sighed and opened his laptop. He was still logged into the Mature Arrangement site, which was weird considering most sites booted you off automatically after a certain amount of time. The message symbol had a little number four over it and he barked out a laugh. These guys didn't waste any time. He clicked on the little envelope icon and it redirected him to his inbox.
Two were men blatantly out of his age range preference, so he deleted those immediately without even reading the messages. The third was offensive so that one was not only deleted but blocked. The fourth one was polite and lacked a clear icon image. Polite and relatively young at 25.
The message read: "Your profile caught my eye, even considering its concise nature. I found your pictures attractive and tasteful, which is something often lacking on this site. You seem rather handsome and have an aesthetic I find pleasing. I have read your arrangement preferences and would like to discuss the finer details of a potential agreement. Please, look at my profile and tell me if I am someone you would be interested in."
Interest definitely piqued, Yuri clicked on the little icon of the man known to him only as "BekaProse". His profile popped up and he read his equally as concise bio before impatiently clicking on his images. The pictures were even more obscured and artistic than his. Mr. Polite was at a distance in each one, dressed smartly in either formal wear or obviously tailored casual clothes, and annoyingly wearing sunglasses in every shot.
Even at a distance, Yuri could tell he was attractive, though, and certainly his type. His black hair was neatly styled and he had that whole "dark and handsome" thing going on. He had to omit tall since his profile stated his height was 5'7", quite a few inches shorter than Yuri. That was fine. If he had a height preference at all, he liked them shorter than himself.
He gulped down some sweet coffee before typing back a simple response of "I'm interested. Let's chat". After that he opened up a new tab and checked his blog and Facebook. Nothing much was going on so he picked up his phone that had been left to charge over night. It suddenly struck him that there was probably a mobile app for the Mature Arrangement site. A quick search proved him right and he promptly installed it and logged in. If Mr. Polite responded while he was at work, he wouldn't miss it.
Satisfied, Yuri fixed a quick breakfast and got ready for the daily grind at Café Latte.
The work day was particularly mind-numbing and slow, which was not too unusual considering it was a just a random Wednesday. The only thing that made it somewhat tolerable was that Yuri had been scheduled with coworker Georgi Popovich. He was the very definition of flamboyance and never failed to entertain. Some people thought he was too dramatic or intense, but Yuri actually liked him better than most people. Georgi was honest, considerate, and usually willing to lend a sympathetic ear. A bit of over the top behavior -fueled mainly by relationships- could easily be forgiven.
Yuri received a message back from "BekaProse", aka Mr. Polite, roughly an hour before closing time. He also got a couple more new ones throughout the day that he only gave cursory glances. Viktor didn't really have a phone policy, so everyone kept their devices tucked neatly in their aprons or back pockets during shifts. He was sweeping around tables when the device vibrated softly in his pocket, alerting him to an ambiguous incoming notification.
After he finished sweeping, he stood by one of the larger windows and fished his device out of his pocket. A rush of excitement passed through him as he saw who had sent him the message, and he quickly opened the app.
[BekaProse] I'm glad to hear back from you, as you are the only person I'm currently interested in. Please understand that while we correspond, I will not be making arrangements with other people. I expect the same courtesy from you. If this is not agreeable, tell me now.
Yuri quickly tapped out a reply. He had no idea how these "arrangements" usually worked, but maybe Mr. Polite could fill him in.
[IceTigerXIII] That's fine. I get the general concept of these things, but I'm really not too clear on details. Are you free to chat more in a couple hours after I get off work?
[BekaProse] Of course. Message me whenever you are free tonight, within reasonable hours. I look forward to conversing with you.
"New significant other?" asked Georgi. He looked up from the sink as he continued to wash dishes.
"What? No." Yuri grabbed a wash cloth and spray bottle of cleaner. "Why would you think that?"
"I don't know." Georgi shrugged, returning his attention to the dishes. "You had an interesting expression for a moment there, like something good happened."
"Nothing gets past you!" Yuri laughed as he started to clean the tables.
"So, I'm right?" He peered over his shoulder, blue eyes twinkling.
"Not exactly." Yuri paused to think. How could he explain his current situation in terms that didn't make it sound sleazy? "I'm trying out…internet dating. Again." It wasn't exactly a lie but he was not willingly arming Georgi -or anyone really- with the information that he was on a site that labeled him a "sugar baby".
"Oh, nice!" Georgi smiled. "I wish you luck with whoever you're talking to…and of course, better luck than last time."
Yuri suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine and returned the smile thinly. It was no secret that the last relationship he had forged from a dating site had ended poorly. "Thanks," he finally managed to respond with a fairly genuine tone.
"Sorry I brought that up," muttered Georgi. He finished the dishes and moved on to clean the Panini press.
"No, man, it's fine, don't worry," said Yuri with a dismissive wave. "Let's just focus on getting everything done on time."
Georgi nodded and they did not speak much for the rest of the hour.
The flurries had started at around 7pm, so by the time Yuri drove home the roads were coated in snow. They wouldn't be salted until morning so he drove cautiously, ever vigilant of hidden ice patches. On the trip from the car to the building, he paused to gaze around at his previously dingy surroundings, blanketed in white and eerily silent for the inner city. The world seemed so still and peaceful. He smiled and entered the building through the private side entrance. At one point the lower level had been a thriving business of some sort, but now it only contained a "for rent" sign. The owner had told him if it didn't go soon, he was thinking about converting it into another apartment.
Snowball faithfully greeted him and he made sure to give her an appropriate amount of affection before showering. Since it was colder that night, he opted to wear an oversized sweater, fluffy, leopard print pajama bottoms, and thick socks. Next he made himself a cup of some herbal blended tea and settled into the living room with his treasured afghan. There were a fair amount of windows in the apartment, and he opened one curtain slightly to see the gently falling snow. The only light in the room came from the TV and laptop.
After taking a careful sip of the hot tea, he signed into the Mature Arrangement website and sent a quick message to Mr. Polite. The response was almost immediate.
[BekaProse] Good evening. I hope it's finding you well.
[IceTigerXIII] It is, thanks. So what kind of "arrangement" do you have in mind?
[BekaProse] Straight to the point. I like that. First, I would like to propose a courtship, so to speak. We can get to know each other through Skype, or another option if you'd like. We can obviously have conversations, but I will require other specific things from you if we are to move forward.
[IceTigerXIII] Like what kind of "specific things"?
[BekaProse] To give you a few examples: 1. Dressing up either in clothes you own or ones I purchase for you. 2. Doing something domestic, like cooking or cleaning. 3. If you are so inclined, dancing would be marvelous with your body type. 4 And last but not least, masturbation, mutual or solely you.
Ah. Yuri figured it would come down to something sexual. It didn't offend his moral standing, if he could say he even had one, but he wasn't doing it for free.
[IceTigerXIII] Okay. What do I get out of it beside clothes?
[BekaProse] Payments. Option 1: $200, 2. $250, 3. $300, 4. $500. Also gifts as I see fit.
He nearly vibrated in his seat as he looked at the prices listed. To most people, they weren't a lot of money, but to him they were rent, food, and utilities. February was not a fun month to get your electric cut. Honestly, he was pretty behind that month and could really use the $500. He wondered if it was too bold to jump to it right away.
[IceTigerXIII] Sounds good. How exactly do I get the money and what would you like me to do first? Also when? I'm good for whenever as long as I'm not working.
[BekaProse] I will send it through , if you give me your email address for it. We can start tonight if you'd like. Pick whatever option you'd like.
Yuri quickly typed in that was fine, his email address for , and his Skype name. He could hardly believe his luck, even if he felt more than a little reckless. Afterwards, he paused to consider which option he truly felt up for. When he couldn't decide he typed another message.
[IceTigerXIII] Listen, man…you're paying for this. What do you want? You have to have some sort of preference.
[BekaProse] I do. My Skype name is the same as my username here. Log on and I'll tell you what I want you to do once you answer my call.
This was it. The moment of truth. Yuri opened Skype and waited until it began to ring. He answered the call and held his breath. A blurry image of the man came into view briefly before he left the field of vision. The room was so dark Yuri couldn't really make out anything in the background.
"Hey, where'd you go?" he asked. He quickly checked his appearance in the little box.
"Sorry, I'll be right back. Just give me a moment," spoke a pleasantly deep voice.
Yuri liked the tone, only slightly deeper than his own. He quickly decided he could grow used to it. The tapping of keys came through the speakers and within a minute Mr. Polite returned to the camera. Initially, his face was obscured as he rubbed at it with both hands. With a sigh, he finally lowered his hands and stared pointedly at his screen.
Yuri felt his heart skip a beat as he latched onto the man's dark irises. Unwavering and intense, they looked like they could bore holes through him if they desired. Those amazing eyes were framed with dark lashes, his skin tan, hair he could now see was styled in an undercut, disheveled from the day, and a jawline and cheekbones that looked like they were chiseled by a god. He was instantly smitten.
"Oh." Mr. Polite's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. "You're gorgeous."
Yuri blushed and forced himself to scoff as he averted his gaze, trying to cover his face partially with long, blond hair. He knew he was attractive, but his brand of beauty was conventionally feminine, leading him to be bullied a fair amount growing up. Somewhere along the line he started thinking of it as more of a hindrance than an asset. Good looks were hardly an advantage when they caused people to take you less seriously.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Mr. Polite sounded sincere, but his expression remained stoic.
"It's okay." Yuri looked back to the screen. His heart fluttered. It fucking fluttered at the mere sight of the man. "You're not so bad yourself. Tell me your name."
"Maybe next time," said the man with a small smile. "May I tell you what option I want you to do tonight?"
"Sure."
"I want you to pick out one of your favorite outfits and put it on." The tone was flat and Mr. Polite sat back in his seat.
"No problem."
"And I want to see you change into it," continued the man. "You can keep your underwear on."
"So…kinda like a striptease, but not really." Yuri smirked.
"Exactly. Go now and don't take too long. I have to attend to some business before I go to bed."
Yuri nodded and shrugged off his blanket to go pick out an outfit. He had forgotten the thing was even around his shoulders in the first place. He knew which outfit he wanted, so it didn't take long to select it and return.
"How do you want me to do this?" He adjusted the laptop for a better view and remained standing.
"However you normally would, but slowly." Mr. Polite sat back in his seat so far that darkness shrouded his face.
"Alright, here I go."
Yuri grabbed the bottom of his oversized sweater and lazily pulled it up and over his head, mussing his hair in the process. He paused to smooth it back down after tossing the garment aside. Next he took off his socks, before slipping his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants. He made sure to keep eye contact -as much as you possibly could through a computer screen- as he stretched out the elastic band and tugged them languidly down over his hips, then his thighs, before finally releasing them. They pooled around his feet and he stepped out of them, moving them aside with a foot. Wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, he stood calmly before the camera.
"Very good. Stand there for a moment, please." The man had a hand to his chin and Yuri wondered what expression he was making in the darkness.
"Hey, it's fucking cold in my apartment, can I get dressed now?" Two minutes had passed and Yuri was starting to shiver. He idly thought he probably should have closed the curtain, but doubted anyone was around to see him in his underwear.
"Go ahead. You live in an apartment?"
"Yeah, in a shitty part of town," said Yuri. He grabbed the black skinny jeans lying on the couch and stepped into them. Desperate for warmth, he pulled them on more quickly than he intended, jumping to shimmy them up over his hips. He thought he heard the man chuckle quietly. "The heat is okay in the building, but it's not great and I don't like to turn it up."
"I'm assuming the building is old then?" inquired Mr. Polite.
"It sure looks old."
Yuri took up his black long-sleeved shirt, sporting a spine and ribs design, and tried to gradually pull it over his head and torso. He dramatically flipped his hair out of the collar and draped it over his shoulder. Next he wound a tiger stripped scarf loosely around his neck, and snapped on a few studded leather bracelets. The final touch was a couple silver rings and a leather jacket with plenty of pockets, buttons, and buckles. It was one of the nicest garments he owned, fitting him like it was tailored to his frame. He had acquired it through luck while browsing a local boutique and diligently talked the sales woman down on the price. As much as he wanted to keep it pristine, he still found it necessary to poke it with a modest amount of decorative pins.
"Well?" He stepped back and put his arms out to display the outfit. "Probably not your style, but what do you think?"
The man leaned forward into the light and stared openly with furrowed brows. Yuri could practically feel his eyes roaming over every expanse of his body, shamelessly taking it in. Eventually, his expression relaxed and he gave a slight nod.
"Perfect," he said leaning back into the darkness once again. "Your sense of style is amazing and it suits you very well. I'm very pleased with our interaction today and hope we can have more soon. I'll send the money tonight after I'm done with work."
"Cool, thanks," said Yuri placing a hand on his hip. Having seen Mr. Polite he was now intensely curious what his name was. "Hey…can't you tell me your name? Please?"
The man was silent for a long moment and Yuri wondered if he fell asleep.
"Call me Beka." He shifted in his seat and light temporarily washed over his side. Only then did Yuri notice he was wearing a plain gray sweater, and he caught the glint of a necklace but couldn't make out any details. "Of course, that's not my full name. That you will have to earn."
"Alright. Beka it is." Yuri sat down on the couch and readjusted the screen.
"Won't you tell me your name?"
"Yuri." He stated it simply and easily. It wasn't a big deal since "Beka" would see it on his account.
Beka leaned forward and smiled gently. "It's nice to meet you, Yuri. I'll be contacting you soon. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Beka," he replied, finding himself smiling in return.
The call ended and Yuri stared at the screen for a few minutes processing what had just happened. Honestly, he hadn't expected to actually like anyone he encountered on the site, but Beka proved him wrong. He was incredibly attractive, and Yuri sorely hoped he wasn't just being toyed with. Only time would tell, and if Beka didn't make good on their agreement he would get right back on that damn website and try someone else.
With a tired sigh, Yuri changed back into his comfortable clothes and bundled up with his blanket. Snowball curled up next to him adding much appreciated warmth. As she purred, he thought he ought to get a small space heater and browsed Amazon for a cheap one. It wouldn't raise his electric bill as much as turning up the heat, he rationalized. Thirty minutes later, after getting distracted by a handful of unrelated suggested items, he found one he liked and added it to his wish list.
Fifteen minutes of idle web browsing later, his phone notified him he had an email. He had received a payment from a business account named "Prose Publishing" for $200. He sagged back against the couch and laughed. It was really happening and he was that much closer to making rent. He would definitely have to thank Chris in the morning.