Cloudy Water

Gentle brushes of careful fingers in his hair stirred Victor awake the following morning. He sleepily blinked, the face he thought was looking back at him was blurry but it wasn't as though he didn't know who it was so he snuggled in closer, resting his head on top of the narrow chest beside him.

"H-Hey…" Yuri whispered with an airy chuckle.

Victor hummed and draped an arm over Yuri's chest while keeping his eyes closed. "Five more minutes…"

"You said that two, ten-minute, snooze buttons ago…"

"But I'm so comfy," Nikiforov groaned, "and warm," he held Yuri a little tighter with his one arm only to relax once more. "Five more minutes?"

"It's nine o'clock. As much as I want to stay, Yakov is going to look for you if we don't get going."

"But, Yu~ri~!" Victor let out a long groan and flopped over so he had Katsuki in his arms under him, burying his face in his neck. "I haven't slept this well in a~ges!"

Yuri patted Victor's back. "Yes, yes, but would you like to explain to your religious uncle just why I was in your room last night? I swear it's gonna happen if we don't get dressed soon."

Victor pushed himself up a bit and grinned. "Sure. Last night was amazing." He winked.

"Oh come on!" Yuri cried "I'd like to not start on an embarrassing note today."

Victor laughed at Yuri's antics, right until he was given a face full of a downy pillow.

"Ano…do I look okay?" Katsuki yawned. "I feel a little overdressed to be assisting." He took a seat at the edge of the bed to pull up his black dress socks and roll up his pants. "These are clearly too long, shouldn't be surprised though, seeing they're yours."

"Yuri?"

Katsuki lifted his head up slightly. "Hmm? O-Oh."

Half dressed in an unbuttoned shirt, socks and briefs, Victor got down on one knee and took Yuri's feet without giving him much chance to argue. "Learned this trick when I was growing like a weed when I was younger. Uncle got so frustrated he decided to get me clothes to grow into so Mila and I discovered this strategy from the tailor and I've had it on hand ever since. Like those who have duct tape for whatever reason. There."

One right after the other he had quickly fixed Yuri's cuffs with some fashion tape.

"Wow, that really does work. Thank you."

Satisfied, Victor stood back up. "Of course." He turned around to button his shirt in front of the vanity mirror. "As for overdressed, I didn't pick out these clothes from my closet at the apartment and I have a feeling the individual who had gone to my apartment figured they'd just throw whatever under things you still had unused in your store packaging into their bag and would work fine."

"I see…I can make do then," Yuri replied, recalling he did have a lot of his clothes in the laundry hamper too. "Guess thrift store stuff doesn't work on campus either, eh?"

Victor snorted and shook his head, "his rules not mine," and returned to the walk-in closet to hastily grab a pair of dark grey jeans and a sweater that brought out his eyes to put over his white dress shirt. He came back out and took a seat at the foot of the bed to put them on. "Maybe Yakov has guests this weekend and wants to make sure if we run into each other we look okay? Beats me."

Yuri remained sitting and nodded. "Makes sense...but let's be honest, I'm swimming a little in this, aren't I? My shoulders are narrower."

Victor had stood up to tuck in his shirt and had buttoned his pants before he gave Yuri a once over. "Not your size, sure, but let's roll up the sleeves over the elbows and we will be okay."

Katsuki let Victor do what he wanted with his shirt and then silently watched him fix his own the same way after sliding the sweater into place.

'Makes sense…don't want to get paint on the cuffs.' Yuri thought.

"Yuri?"

"Hmm?"

"You're spacing out again."

Yuri let out a yawn. "Ah, sorry I'm still a bit sleepy too."

Victor took Yuri's hands into his and took a seat again. "Sure you don't want to play hookie and stay here?"

"Ha. Ha. If I don't have something to do, I'll go nuts."

"Is something else the matter then?"

Yuri shook his head, but saw Victor wasn't buying it and so he sighed. "I guess…I'm a bit more than 'sleepy'…and a little sore?" Yuri sat up straight to stretch his back. "Gah, listen to me," he relaxed his back, "I shouldn't be complaining."

"Yuri?"

"Hmm?"

Victor placed a hand on Katsuki's thigh and leaned forward. "It felt really good," he brushed their noses together and smiled. "Yuri, I-"

The phone rang.

"I told you."

"No~ you said they'd come in."

"I overheard him, he was threatening to," Yuri retorted and headed right for the supply cabinet. "And the looks I got on the way here from everybody…it's like they know."

Victor stepped behind Yuri at the counter and loosely settled his hands around Katsuki's hips.

"Are you angry?"

'Does he regret it?' Nikiforov thought for a moment.

Yuri continued to pull out the supplies undeterred. "No, I'm just saying it was a little embarrassing is all. Come, we have a deadline to meet and are behi-"

Victor promptly turned Katsuki around. "Hey."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah I-"

"You aren't looking at me," Victor interrupted.

"Well I-"

"What is it-?"

Yuri put a finger to Victor's lips. "I'm fine. Honestly." Yuri removed his finger and looked down to the floor. "I just…got a little self-conscious as I wear such classy things…but to boot I'm wearing suspenders under the all too big sweater to keep up a pair of pants I had to leave unbuttoned because," he gestured to Victor with an open hand, "I'm not a Mister Six-pack Wond- aheee!"

Victor raised an eyebrow as Yuri degraded himself, quickly had enough, and promptly decided to slide both his hands over Katsuki's backside.

"V-Vict-!" Yuri latched onto Nikiforov's forearms when he was pushed forward unexpectedly.

"So you're a little like a piggy," Victor rumbled in a low whisper, "did I seem to mind that all last night?"

Yuri blushed and hung his head a little. "N-No- ack, stop it." He batted Victor's squeezing hands away and tried to turn back around. "Come, we should foc- Let me get- Victor, let go."

Nikiforov held fast to the nape of Yuri's head and waist and pulled him forward. "Can I get a morning kiss first?"

"How about after an hour of work first?" Katsuki quipped flatly.

"Aw~, no fun." Victor pouted, letting go of Yuri's head as Katsuki started to shake his in frustration.

"There is no fun in this, we promised your uncle we'd be done Saturday night!" Yuri clutched tighter around Victor's arms. "Besides. It's not like I forgot where I was in that conference room that morning. What if Georgi makes sudden, new demands? What is protecting you at all? Am I your-"

"No," Victor clipped, sharply hugging tighter, around Yuri's hips. "You're never at fault or my weakness, understand? I complete the contract and I am in no obligation to do another."

"O-Oh…okay."

Victor gently tapped his forehead onto Yuri's. "I'll do a better check before I accept a client in the future, I promise."

Yuri nodded. "Okay…good to hear."

Before Yuri could step back, Victor quickly pecked his lips. "Thanks, beautiful."

Yuri shook his head with a bashful grin. "Come. We need to get to work."

Victor turned to his right and headed toward his easel. "Yes darling."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "You're a goof-"

His stomach rumbled.

"I heard that," Victor teased.

"We…forgot breakfast…"

'But I really don't want more people looking at me.' Yuri thought.

Victor noticed Yuri's shoulders sag. "Are you still self-conscious?"

Yuri looked over his shoulder to Victor behind him and nodded.

"Well you shouldn't be. I'll be right with you. We will grab to muffins and coffee and come right back, yes?"

"Hn~ all right."

Victor took Yuri's hand. "Walk confidently and they won't suspect anything is wrong. Not like I could tell you were keeping your pants up. I didn't even know you borrowed my pair until you told me."

"Oh. Um, okay."

Victor grinned. "Come. Let's get some food."

The painted woman grew increasingly gorgeous every hour Yuri saw Victor swiftly paint closer to completion. Between taking care of the brushes or mixing paired tubes of paint, Yuri would sit behind Victor on a stool and watch him, between doing some sketches of his own to pass the time, but mostly watch.

'I can't get tired of this,' Yuri thought. 'The jewelry especially pops off the page now.'

"What are you sketching?" Victor asked, not that he was stopping to look.

"I told you before it's a surprise."

Victor refilled his script brush. "I know, but I keep hoping you'd give me a hint."

"Nope, heh. It's already three o-clock and the background still needs work."

"Oh ho~? Critiquing me now?"

"Hardly. Most is still blank." Yuri tilted his head. "Speaking of, will she be sitting down or look like she is standing?"

"Standing."

"Ah. Well I hope-"

A hurried knock suddenly pounded at the door.

"Vitya!"

Yuri leapt to his feet. "Yakov?" However, he let Victor take the lead to reach and open the door only to step back and away as his uncle rushed inside.

'He looks mad and really upset!' Yuri thought, his anxiety already beginning to spike. 'God, would you two not talk in Russian right now?!'

Katsuki could only stand there and watch the blood slowly drain from Victor's face the longer the family members rapidly spoke.

Suddenly, Yuri felt his upper arm was being pulled by Yakov's attending guard and his anxiety spiked higher.

"W-What? Wait! What's going on?" Yuri demanded.

Victor sounded like he was objecting; stepped forward to take Yuri's hand before being denied with Yakov stepping between them.

"What are you doing? Why separate us now? What's going on?!" Yuri could only protest as he was pulled out the room. "Victor! Explain, please!"

Victor looked like he was but Yakov appeared to shut him down.

'Did they hear us last night? Is Yakov mad at me? What did I do?' His mind raced. 'Or worse, I don't want to be sent home! Not like this!'

"I won't go in there without an explanation! A good one!" Yuri pulled and twisted in the guard's arms as they made their way down the hall.

With a final stomp onto the man's shoe, Yuri ducked and bolted back to Victor's workroom where Yakov blocked the door.

"Go to your room, Yuri Katsuki," Mr. Feltsman sternly insisted, holding onto Yuri's shoulders. "Don't make me order more men to take you there."

"Don't you think me not being there will be more distracting?" Yuri argued.

"You're not more important than my daughter!" Yakov blurted.

Yuri paused his struggling and stepped back. "Where's Mila?"

The pahkan gritted his teeth. "I'm in need of Victor to speed his work up and he works fastest alone!"

"So. What, I'm just gonna sit around and be a pretty treat, as an award when he gets done? Let me help! I'm starting to see why he get's theatrical or attracts drama like bears to honey-!"

Two millimeters, if that, they stood apart. Yakov suddenly gripped onto the front of Yuri's shirt with both hands and leveled with Katsuki real quick.

"Get. To. Your room."

Just then Victor came out of the room. "Enough." He spoke in English.

Yakov held onto Yuri's shirt but turned to his nephew, looking at him over his shoulder. "Mila is counting on you. You don't need to be-"

"Speak in English, Uncle, Yuri deserves to understand." Victor pulled the old gentleman off of Yuri and took Katsuki in his arms. "Plus, you don't need to be melodramatic either. The painting is well on it's way to being completed."

"V-Vitya-!"

"No," Victor interrupted flatly. "The painting will be done; I'll work all night if I need to. You, however, won't take Yuri away from me like this. You're wasting time pulling him away from me."

Yakov's jaw went slack, his eyes round with shock.

'Has Victor ever stood up to Yakov before?' Yuri briefly wondered, looking between the two men before noticing how dead-lit Victor's eyes had become.

Yakov's eyes narrowed. "If she is harmed-"

"H-Harmed-?" Yuri blurted.

"Won't happen because of what I painted," Victor clipped coldly. "It'll be because time was wasted." Victor steered Yuri around and headed back into the workroom. "Tell Georgi I'll have he painting done by his due time at eight tomorrow."

The door was shut in time to muffle Yakov's frustrating growl in the hallway.

Victor leaned his back against the door, keeping Yuri in his arms as he rested his head on Yuri's shoulder.

When it was silent once again, Yuri noticed something wet fall onto his shirt.

"Victor? Why are you crying? What is going on?"

Yuri felt the arms about him pull him in tighter. "It's Mila. She was kidnapped off the streets. Georgi wants the painting and wants it asap." Victor shuddered as he lifted his head off of Yuri's shoulder only to look up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. "Yakov is about to flip his lid for sure…the last time that happened-"

Yuri took Victor's face into his hands and pulled down so those Russian blues looked at him. "Was a long time ago and is, I'm sure, a long story." Yuri shook his head. "We don't have time and I'm not a therapist."

Victor blankly blinked at Yuri before his eyes became wistful. "No..." He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his right forearm before settling both hands onto Yuri's shoulders. "…But you're my strength."

Yuri stepped back at the same time took Victor's hands to pull Nikiforov forward, towards the easel. "And I'll stay right here. Come. Let's get Mila back home."

'Why isn't he back yet?' Yuri paced back and forth in Victor's bedroom the following afternoon still only in a bathrobe and unable to eat. 'Just how long are these meetings?!'

Sure, it was one thing he couldn't attend as he had no purpose to be there in a tense situation like that.

"They wouldn't have had guns, right?" Yuri mumbled. "I mean it's just an exchange, easy peasy."

'But it's so late…'

Yuri took a seat on the edge of the bed only to stand back up due to restless legs. "God let them return safely," he prayed.

-Hours Earlier-

"Son of a bitch…"

Georgi's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Feltsman?"

Victor felt a chill run down his spine and clutched onto the painting's protective fabric with both hands, unsure what to say.

Yakov stood up. "How dare you make him paint her likeness!" He demanded.

Georgi shook his head and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Her…likeness? I wanted my mother instead of the previous design, I have no idea what you're on about."

Yakov remained standing. "You deny this?! With hair and eyes like that, did you provide Vitya pictures?"

"Uh, course I emailed your nephew references. I expected he would've had his phone or a computer. Now calm down yourself before we get disrespectful," Georgi darkly warned.

The old man didn't budge. "You dragged Christophe Giacometti down, tear my nephew down whenever you can, nearly kidnapped an American and now my daughter despite negotiations and you want to lecture me about disrespect?"

Mr. Popovich pulled open his suit jacket back to flash a gun in his holster. "Yes. Sit before you tarnish this moment further."

Yakov gritted his teeth but took a seat. "When you disarmed us I thought you'd at least have the common curtesy to do the same."

"Those were different times, I'd start changing a little, sir," Georgi remarked before he stood up to walk over to Victor beside the new artwork. "Now then…how about we take a closer look-see."

Victor glanced at his cousin who sat across from him in the parlor room of the Popovich estate and wanted to reassure her but she smiled first, showing she had more nerve he'd ever hope for.

"A beautiful face like that needs a beautiful name, a different moniker I would say."

Victor turned his head back to Georgi, but kept his gaze down. "You can call it as you see fit, Mr. Popovich."

Georgi looked up and down. "Yes…I think its definitely worthy of 'Tatiana'."

Victor froze. "T-Tatiana?"

'Why that name?'

Georgi turned around and motioned one of his thugs to come forward with a brief case. When it was opened on a table it showed it was filled with cash.

"She's not entirely what I pictured, but the resemblance is striking and captures her beauty at her prime too." Mr. Popovich turned back to Victor behind him. "She will love it."

Victor furrowed his brow, confused. "Who?"

"My mo-"

The door to the parlor room opened unexpectedly to reveal a tired, middle-aged woman in a scooter, dressed in a lavender nightgown, and had a clear likeness to the painting despite the wrinkles in her skin and silver in her far shorter hair.

Georgi lurched forward and took the woman's hands. "M-Mama, the doctor told you to be resting!"

"I needed to see my boy," she yawned, letting go of the stick which had helped her steer. "I may be terminal but I'm not that incapacitated yet."

'She's dying,' Victor realized. 'So Georgi pushed for the painting's completion?'

"No, Mama, you need rest and your medicine."

The scene was dismantling to Victor's perceptions of Georgi, but felt he sick to his stomach when he saw Yakov gravely pale and eventually shake in disbelief.

"T-Tatiana?"

The woman looked at Yakov with weary eyes before she recognized the man a moment later, before she brightened with a little spark, as thought she'd been finally found.

"What…What are you doing here?" Yakov asked, taking a shaking step forward.

Victor looked to Georgi who appeared highly confused as well. "What is going on here?" He finally asked.

Tired, blue eyes looked at Nikiforov's direction before they welled with tears.

"You look just like him…your father."

Georgi and Victor stared at each other as though they could mentally piece together what she meant together.

Mila stood up, ignoring the guardsmen weak protest and walked to Victor's side, placing her hand on her cousin's shoulder.

"My mother was alive, Yuri. This whole time and now I find she has terminal cancer...I can't seem to catch a break, can I?"

-Beep…beep…beep-

Yuri squeezed Victor's hand between both of his own while an I.V. dripped down its tube. "I'm so sorry…"

Thank you for reading!

Please Don't Spoil! 3