"Yeah, I was thinking to visit in January, before the days get too long – yes, of course. I love you too. Bye."
Yuri hung up the phone – not his phone, which was lying on the desk across the room, utterly and definitively dead, but the upstairs landline, god knows why Viktor even kept paying for the thing – feeling infinitely better. He couldn't help but wonder if his grandpa had some sort of supernatural thing going for him, because no normal person would be happy to get a call from their hiccupping vampire grandson in the middle of the night.
He barged across the landing and pounded on the other bedroom door.
"Viktor! Oi, Viktor!" No response. Viktor was pretending not to hear him, but Yuri knew he was in there, sulking. "Your damn dinner party is over, so now would you deal with the stray werewolf already?"
Incoherent grumbling drifted through the door. Yuri yanked it open, letting the knob slam against the wall.
Viktor, still in his dress clothes, lay facedown on his king size bed. He moaned gently at the sudden noise. A flash of fear leapt up Yuri's spine.
"Hey, Viktor?" He nudged the red-clad shoulder.
Viktor rolled over, his face anguished.
"I looked like a fool, Yurio."
Oh, god.
"He was toying with me." Viktor let himself fall backwards across the pillows, his hair fanning out in a silver curtain.
"He was- what?" A brief mental scramble, and he remembered that Viktor was a world class moron who needed to be suitably punished for putting Yuri through multiple levels of hell over the past day and a half. "I thought you said he didn't know anything!"
Holding back laughter at the thought of Yuuri the Usurper (why couldn't he be Yurio, huh?) as a fearsome vampire slayer was a torment all of its own.
The only reply was a deep and completely unnecessary sigh.
"Oh, who cares about that? He thought I was an idiot! A useless idiot! I told him I could help, and now he's never going to want to see me again."
Well, he wasn't wrong. Insufferable asshat. Any traces of guilt Yuri had about fucking with the two hopeless imbeciles had vanished into thin air.
"That's a good thing, isn't it? The hunter leaves us alone and gets himself killed in a few nights when he asks the wrong person the wrong question. Works out for everyone."
Viktor flinched visibly. If his skin hadn't already been chalk-pale, the blood would have drained from his cheeks.
"Right, right. Of course." He put one finger to his chin, deep in thought. "Perhaps I should keep an eye on him. Just to make sure he doesn't suspect us."
Good lord, Viktor was a terrible liar.
This was going to be even more fun than Yuri had hoped, but if he had to deal with another second of melodramatic moping, he was going to stake both of them himself. The other situation rose once again to the forefront of his mind.
"Great, good idea. You do that. Now, the werewolf thing?"
"Okay, okay. After I take a shower. And get something to eat."
Oh, for the love of -
"It's almost three o'clock already! You don't have time to go hunting!"
Viktor waved one limp hand. "Don't worry, I'll choke down some of whatever's in the fridge. Why don't you let Mr. Altin know that we're going out for a while? All of us."
Going out? Yuri gave a mental shrug as he stomped down the stairs. Maybe they were going to drive Otabek to the airport and tell him to get the hell out of Germany. It really didn't matter to him, as long as Otabek was gone. What gave him the right to show up, accuse Yuri of being a body-snatching murder demon – or whatever the fuck he was on about – and try to eat him in some screwed up quest for vengeance? Really, it was Yuri who should be asking if Otabek was some alien meatpuppet, because he hadn't cared enough about Yuri two and a half years ago to even pick up his damn phone.
Yuri Plisetsky never fell.
The six syllables echoed through his mind, cutting deeper with each repetition. No wonder Otabek didn't believe he was himself, if that was the Yuri he remembered.
He pounded on the basement door, taking pleasure in the thought of showering its denizen with spiders (even though he knew for a fact that there were no spiders, and the basement was more of an en-suite apartment than a bare cellar).
"Oi! We're leaving. Bring your stuff."
Footsteps padded up the carpeted steps. A deadbolt slid back, and Otabek pulled open the door. Yuri's stomach lurched again, because fuck, apparently even the lump of calcified anger buried in his chest wasn't enough to keep the rest of his traitorous emotions in check. The werewolf didn't seem to be having the same problem. His eyes were dark and cold, without a flicker of expression.
...
VN: Hello, Yuuri. Did you make it home without problems?
KY: oh yes thank you
KY: i took the wrong train but it worked out ok
VN: How is your research? Have you talked to anyone interesting?
KY: phichit went out for a while but didnt find much
KY: hes getting food and then were going to try again
KY: what about you? any plans for the night?
VN: I am going out for a while with my brother and his friend. What part of the city did you say you would be in?
KY: that sounds like fun
KY: i guess youre all night people then
KY: yurio seems like a good kid
KY: and we havent actually decided where to go
KY: phichit says mitte tonight maybe
VN: Wow, I wasn't aware that Yurio had managed to make such a good impression. He doesn't get along with people very well most of the time. I think he likes you, though. Mitte? That can be a dangerous part of town after dark. Stay safe.
KY: really?
KY: i thought that was where a lot of tourists went
VN: You know how cities are. If you don't have firm plans, maybe you and your friend would like to join us? I know it's only been a couple of hours, but I am very interested in meeting your Phichit.
KY: he says that would be good
KY: are you sure though
KY: we dont want to intrude
VN: The more the merrier!
VN: Attachment: 1 location
[tap to open with Google Maps]
KY: its open this late?
VN: I'm friends with the owner. She understands that my schedule is a little inconvenient, due to work and all.
KY: okay yeah
KY: you are officially phichits new favorite person
VN: See you in two hours?
KY: its a date J
...
"Oh my god. I can't believe I said that."
"Don't worry about it, Yuuri. It's a perfectly normal English phrase."
"… no, I'm pretty sure it's not."
"It's an almost normal English phrase."
"Just kill me now."
"Maybe afterwards. I'm pretty sure you being dead would void my invitation, and I'm not missing this."
"Some friend you are."
...
Otabek stood a couple of steps down, trying to control his breathing. Cornered. He told himself that the house's residents had never actually threatened him – he himself had been the only one doing the threatening. It didn't help. Otabek had the lower ground, standing on a stair a good twenty centimeters below the blond's position. His instincts screamed, protesting the vulnerability.
He didn't allow himself to move a muscle, forcing his eyes to remain steady as he looked up. It wasn't even the wolf in him that was upset, which was both a blessing and a curse; no, the wolf wasn't scared. It wouldn't let him slam the door and lock it again. It was the Otabek part of him that was a problem, come down from the rush of confusion and adrenaline and anger that had propelled him through the last twenty-four hours.
"Are you deaf? We're going." The boy seemed angered by Otabek's lack of response.
"Where?"
Shrug. "Ask Viktor." He moved back from the door, allowing Otabek to step up and out into the hall. The clamoring in his chest immediately eased to a tolerable level once he was no longer trapped in the stairwell, leaving him exhausted and just a little guilty. He probably hadn't been in any danger, and even under the circumstances, his behavior was a dreadful abuse of hospitality. This wasn't St. Petersberg, not by a long shot… but it wasn't Malmö, either.
"What-" What should I call you? If Otabek wanted answers, he probably had to try a less abrasive method, and that included a name. 'Yuri' was out of the question, of course.
Not-Yuri cut him off.
"What am I?" He snorted. "A creature from the depths of hell summoned to torment you, specifically. Got the body half price on Amazon. Why are you a werewolf?"
That was not something Otabek wanted to talk about. Especially with something that taunted him from behind an achingly familiar face. His (metaphorical) hackles raised.
"My landlord wouldn't let me get a cat."
Not-Yuri's expression twisted. He looked vaguely pained.
Great job, Otabek. Wonderful work. Handled that one like a champ. Obviously he'll tell me everything now. Maybe it wasn't too late to retreat to the basement again.
However, in a stroke of luck (his definition of 'luck' had certainly changed over the past day and a half), he was saved from the conversation when Viktor skipped – yes, actually skipped – up to join them.
"Great! You two are ready!" Viktor was hauling a large duffel bag. That wasn't ominous at all. He pulled something thin and sleek from his jacket pocket. "Yurio, catch!"
The blond – Yurio, that would work – snatched it from the air. A cell phone.
"You couldn't have told me this got here before the hell dinner?" His voice was softer than than the sharp question would normally have called for. It sounded like a thank you.
Viktor smiled back and picked his car keys off of a hook on the wall.
Yurio. He could live with that.
...
Viktor settled himself into the driver's seat. Getting a license hadn't been easy, what with vampires not known for being photogenic, but it was worth it (even if it wasn't technically a license, or technically legal). No one wanted to trust their life to public transport.
Yuri and Otabek didn't get in the car. Instead, they stood on the gravel, still as statues.
"I don't want him behind me," Yuri hissed, glaring daggers at the other man. "I want him where I can see him."
Otabek's shoulders were set in a hard line. Viktor could see that his hands were shaking slightly.
Five minutes later, they weren't scowling at each other anymore. In the rearview mirror, he could see that the werewolf was jammed against the side of the car, taking up as little space as possible. His face was staunchly turned towards the window, for all appearances completely engrossed in the night scenery (if one didn't notice the set of his jaw, or the tightness around his eyes). Yuri, of course, didn't show up in the mirror, but he didn't need to turn around to confirm that the younger vampire was sprawled across the back seat, glowering at Viktor.
He wondered, again, if he was doing the right thing. For most of his life, Viktor had managed to avoid thinking too much about rights and wrongs and shoulds. Things just… happened. He hadn't thought of responsibility as exciting, but since that night in St. Petersberg, life had definitely become more interesting – and, of course, infinitely more frustrating.
Viktor switched on the radio, flipping through stations until American pop music blared through the speakers. A pair of green eyes burned into the back of his head. The car traced a familiar route. Wind whipped through the vehicle as he rolled down the windows, hiding smug satisfaction as Yuri yelped, trying to push his long blond hair out of his face.
Unfortunately, the distraction didn't work for very long.
"Viktor. Where are we going?" Creeping suspicion filled Yuri's voice.
Viktor winced.
