Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline

Chapter Eleven- The Job

"What's the matter Beka? Can't keep up?" Yuri taunted and Otabek schooled his face into a proper passive mask. He wasn't going to be led into striking first again, having quickly learned in the last few weeks that what the Russian teenager lacked in size and strength, he made up for with speed and agility. It was a much better strategy to let the little nymph strike first and then try and use his size to overpower him.

"Ahhh c'mon Beka! Scared of a someone half your size? What kind of vory are you?" The boy teased again, mischief dancing across his face as he stalked towards Otabek like a tiger and its prey. His skin itched with the urge to just lunge at the little troublemaker and make him shut up, show him Otabek was not a man to be played with, but he had to focus, wait for his opportunity.

It happened in a flash, if he had blinked, he would have missed it, but Otabek was ready. Yuri sprung towards him leaping into the air and aiming a powerful kick right for his face. He was ready though and made an attempt to grab at the delicate looking ankle flying right by him, but he wasn't quick enough, Yuri was able to flip his body backwards and move out of his reach. He had lost the element of surprise though and Otabek rushed him before the boy could fully regain his balance and hit him with a quick three point hit to his meridian nerve, floating rib, and shoulder knocking the Yuri on his back with a pained cry. He fell quickly to pin the boy under his body weight but just before he reached him, Yuri rolled backwards and sprung to his feet again breathing heavy. Otabek let out a frustrated growl and quickly got to his feet again.

"Awww poor old, slow Beka!" Yuri stuck out his pink kitten tongue as he laughed at Otabek's pain. Oh, so this was how they were playing it now? If his kitten wanted to play dirty, Otabek could do the same. Panting, he grasped the hem of his sweat drenched black t shirt and quickly stripped it from his overheating body. What? It wasn't uncalled for to remove one's shirt during a sparring session… He watched as Yuri's face changed and the light pink dusting of heat showing on his face graduated to a much redder shade, his adam's apple bobbing as he attempting to swallow while his eyes practically fucked Otabek's bare chest. Seizing his opportunity, he lunged at the distracted teen and heard him let out an adorable yelp as he was pinned on his back, hands resting above his head.

"I'm sorry, what was that Yura? Something about me being old and slow?" He allowed himself to tease back, admiring the view of the breathless blonde beneath him, struggling against his weight, but it was futile. Yuri wasn't moving from this spot until Otabek wanted him to, and the thought alone was… intoxicating.

"Well if Otabek is old, what does that make me?" A voice called out causing both sparrers to jerk their heads toward the entrance to reveal Viktor dressed in his usual gray suit* wearing a very amused grin on his face. Otabek felt himself blush at being caught in this precarious position with his charge by the only person who knew of his true feelings, but thankfully his skin was flushed enough from sparring to cover it. He quickly sat up releasing Yuri's arms and got off the boy as quickly as possible, extending him a hand to help the lithe blond to his feet. He watched the teenager brush imaginary dust off himself and try to look agitated before calling out over his shoulder to Viktor.

"A fossil." His answer was cutting, and his voice laced with anger. Otabek could tell he was embarrassed too by the way he let his hair fall in front of his face and curled his shoulders in around his body.

"Yuratchka! You wound me so!" Viktor cried dramatically raising his hand up to his forehead like a damsel in distress ready to faint. If Otabek was a man that laughed, he probably would have right then. "But come and take a break for the afternoon, Pavel has just made some fresh Pirozhki for lunch today." Before the man had even gotten the entire word Pirozhki out Yuri was sprinting for the showers. Otabek did allow himself a small crack of a smile on the side of his mouth as he watched the boy who he had seen be so ruthless these last couple weeks scamper off like a child at the mention of his favorite food.

"Otabek, before you get some food, Nikolai wants to speak with you." Viktor must have been able to read the slight panic that he was unable to stop flashing in his eyes because he quickly added "Relax, it's nothing bad." and Otabek chastised himself for being weak enough to let out a small sigh of relief. He couldn't help his anxiety when being told that the Pakhan wanted to see him. He felt like a child who had done wrong and was just waiting to be found out by his parent, walking on eggshells with his guilty conscious. He cleaned up the sparring area, trying to take long enough that Yuri would be out of the showers before he entered. The idea of a fresh and clean Yuri straight out of the shower, the water glistening off his pure porcelain body was enough to make the man want to keep his distance. Hastily, he showered, combed his hair respectfully and changed into his suit before going to meet the Pakhan.

He knocked three times firmly, but not too aggressive and heard a curt "Enter!" from the other side. Entering the room, he was unsurprised to see the boss with his face in his work, intently studying whatever he was reading, not acknowledging the presence of another person. Why would he after all, he was Nikolai Plisetsky and he answered to no one. So Otabek crossed him hands in front of himself, eyes fixed straight ahead in the stereotypical bodyguard stance and stood patiently waiting to be addressed. When Nikolai finally looked up and noticed it was Otabek standing there, his smiled good heartedly in the way that made Otabek's insides twist. It was just unnatural to see such a serious man smile at someone as lowly as Otabek, but it seemed he had taken a liking to the Kazakh for 'taming' his grandson. Every time Nikolai said that though, it rubbed Otabek wrong. He did not, nor did he want to 'tame' Yuri. He just cared for him and allowed him to be himself, which apparently no one else could understand was all Yuri had ever wanted and needed. Of course, he kept his mouth shut, as the man who tried to tell Nikolai how to raise his own flesh and blood would likely find himself 6 feet under by the next morning.

"Yes sir, Viktor said you wished to speak to me?" He prompted, eagerly wanting to know why he was summoned here.

"Ah yes, I wanted to check in on Yuri's progress. Hopefully his is not disgracing his family name too badly?" Nikolai laughed and cut the end of a cigar, lighting it and leaning back in his chair contently. Otabek could feel the anger inside of him, how cruel for Yuri's own grandfather to speak so poorly of him.

"Not at all sir, the boy is highly skilled, it would seem as no time had passed since he had been training last. He is probably more affluent with hand to hand combat than at shooting, but nonetheless he's still an incredible shot, he shot a 0.97 mil* today. He obviously has more martial arts knowledge than myself and I'm embarrassed to admit he has even bested me a handful of times." He replied, keeping his voice calm and steady despite the anger he felt inside.

"Good, that's what I was hoping you would say." His boss replied before looking around his desk full of work and settling on a manila envelope. "In that case I think it's time to for him to take on his first assignment." And just like that, Otabek's blood which had been hot and coursing from his anger, was suddenly cold and seemed to freeze in his veins. Surely Nikolai must be joking.

"We've received word of Solntsevskaya's men snooping around our docks at the port. After some investigation it seems they are trying to carve out a spot for themselves in our territory. Tonight, they will attempt to buy our men's loyalty, and we are going to remind them who runs St. Petersburg." Nikolai spoke nonchalantly, as if he wasn't just suggesting that his 17-year-old grandson deal with members of a rival Bratva for his first job. Otabek struggled to keep himself in check, his protective instincts rearing up at the thought of willingly putting his kitten in harm's way.

"Sir, with all due respect, don't you think his first job should be a little less…" He struggled to find the right word. Dangerous, stupid, insane?!

"Ha! if Yuri is to be the next Pakhan he can't be seen running around like some Gopnik. He needs to debut in a strong way, to show the world that he is powerful from the start." Nikolai chuckled as if discussing a minor manor. Otabek opened his mouth to speak again, to protest this ridiculous idea, but closed it immediately as he knew better than to speak against the Pakhan twice. Hell, Otabek six months ago would have just agreed without another word, but now, he had something to stand up for. Something too precious to lose, Yuri.

"Yes sir, I understand" He replied, not really sure what to do now.

"Good, you may go. All the details are in that folder, the meeting takes place tomorrow night so make sure Yuratchka is prepared." Nikolai put his cigar out in the crystal ashtray on his desk and immediately went back to his work. Otabek let himself out of the room, but instead of going straight to the kitchen to eat and find Yuri he immediately went out back to smoke a well-deserved cigarette, cursing the rule the only room in the townhome smoking was allowed in was Nikolai's office.

He had a day, ONE FUCKING DAY, to make sure his teenage hellcat was ready to take on members of a rival bratva. Anger wasn't even the right word to describe his feelings right now, it was more like fury. He was beginning to question if Nikolai cared for Yuri at all, throwing him to the wolves in such a way. His mind kept jumping to all the worst-case scenarios and anxiety reared its ugly head causing him to start pacing. This was were Viktor found him 15 minutes later, three cigarettes deep wearing a path into the grass.

"I see you're taking this well." The silverette called to him in his usual whimsical tone causing Otabek to snap his head in the other mans direction giving him a look that he had heard others described as 'chilling'. He had about 100 snarky remarks he wanted to make but bit his tongue as it was not his nature, nor his place to do so.

"I'll admit, I was not happy either when The Pakhan informed me of his wishes, but there was no convincing him otherwise, so instead we must focus on how to best protect Yuri and deal with the Solntsevskaya." Viktor calmly explained, doing nothing to quell Otabek's worries. The older man lay a hand on his shoulder in a very un-Russian display of affection, but Viktor wasn't the stereotypical cold Russian he was used to.

"Otabek, you and I will both be with him. I don't think I could trust anyone else to do his first job with." Viktor's eyes were kind and understanding as he spoke, and he knew his superior was right, but he was still angry.

"One day Viktor, one day is all I have to prepare him for this incredibly dangerous job. He's only a child! He is in no position to do anything like this, we've only just been training him for a few weeks." He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately went to light a fourth, but Viktor pulled the pack from his hands.

"Otabek, you know that is not true, as I recall weren't you first arrested when you were 14 as part of a robbery gone wrong? I highly doubt that was your first time involving yourself in criminal activity. I myself began working for Aleksandr when I was 12 as an errand boy essentially. Nikolai is right in a sense, he has spoiled and sheltered Yuri enough, in the underworld, 17 is old to be starting out." Viktor answered and Otabek hated that he was right.

"I know that you want to protect Yuri, so do just that. Tomorrow, leave most of the work to Mila, Georgi and I." At the mention of the other two Otabek must have given Viktor a confused look before the older man started laughing.

"You haven't even looked at the file, have you?" He asked and Otabek became a little embarrassed that he had allowed his emotions to grip him before he even looked into the mission. He had never acted like this in his life, usually all business, no pleasure, because men like him didn't deserve that sort of thing. But ever since he met and then subsequently began to fall for Yuri, he wasn't the same person, and that thought scared him. He couldn't let himself become so blinded by his love that it impaired him from doing his job correctly. He steeled his jaw and shook his head.

"Come." Viktor called. "Let's go and get a bit of food and go over the file, then we can find Yuratchka and inform him of the plan. If you want, I'll let you tell him." He offered, probably trying to make Otabek feel better. He thought for a minute and then let out a sigh, walking towards the direction of the back door leading to the kitchen.

"No, It'll be better if you tell him. He'd bound to be excited and I don't think I can force myself to sound happy with the idea." He answered, not expecting Viktor to laugh again at his expense.

"Otabek, my friend, I don't think I've ever seen or heard you be 'happy' before, are you sure you know what happiness is?" He teased in the way in an un-insulting way that only Viktor could. They approached the door and Otabek could see Yuri through the kitchen window, eating a pirozhki and laughing at something on his phone. His wet hair was tied up in a bun on top of his head, his face fresh and make up free, wearing yet another oversized sweatshirt and tiny shorts combo. He felt the traces of a smile tugging at his lips at the sight, but years of practice allowed him to keep the muscles in check.

"Yes, I do."

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

"Yura, what is taking so long, we need to leave in 10 minutes." Otabek knocked on Yuri's bathroom door for the fifth time, Yuri shouting another version of "I'm almost ready!" that Otabek had never believed, not even the first time. He heard groaning and cursing in the room and didn't even think he wanted to know what was going on inside. "Do I really have to wear this?" He heard Yuri whine from the other side of the door. Otabek let himself chuckle slightly.

"Yes Yura, I told you already it is standard issue." He replied. Otabek had seen Yuri wear the craziest outfits, yet this little brat was complaining because he had to wear a respectable suit for once in his life. Huffing one last time behind the door, Yuri finally opened the door stepping out looking for once in life very uncertain of himself. Otabek however, felt his breath hitch.

His Yura was breathtaking. Long blond hair cascaded in waves over his shoulders, the front pulled back and out of his face, braided intricately, smaller and larger braids woven together in ornate patterns. The crisp, fitted, black suit he wore was supposedly the same as the one Otabek wore, but on this beautiful blonde angel, it looked very different. Where Yuri's looks were normally garish and sexy, this look was classically understated and that in and of itself was thrilling to Otabek. The fact that he knew exactly what kind of body the suit was hiding and hinting at drove him wild. The dark fabric caressed the alabaster skin that called out to Otabek. He wore a hint of make-up, but nowhere close to his normal level of primping, just some dark smudges on his eyes and a bit of shiny lip gloss. How Otabek longed to find out what flavor those lips tasted like.

"Yuri, you look…" He couldn't find the words. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't stop himself in the moment, afraid that he was going to blurt out exactly on his mind, but Yuri decided to finish his sentence for him.

"Like a penguin, I look like a mother fucking penguin." Yuri pouted, he crossed his arms and looked away cheeks tinted with blush under Otabek's gaze. Otabek let himself laugh out loud at that, the kind of laugh only Yuri was allowed to hear.

"That was the furthest thing from my mind." He replied. Yuri just scoffed and went over to his full-length mirror, fiddling with his tie, that Otabek was just noticing was tied pretty poorly. His feet were moving before his brain could catch up, carrying him over to the adorable aristocratic teen who apparently didn't know how to tie a tie.

"Here let me help you." Otabek said in a scratchy voice, he couldn't help the drop in his tone when he was so close to the one he was so attracted to. When his hands reached out to take the tie, they brushed against Yuri's causing the boy to jolt as if he had been hit with electricity and then looked away embarrassed, the pink on his cheeks darkening a shade or two. Otabek took a little more time than necessary while completing the steps ingrained into his memory. He knew he was sick, but he wanted to see that blush up close, to feel the heat radiating from his as his fingers brushed against the soft cotton of his white button down.

"Why do I have to wear this stupid thing, I hate suits." Yuri complained, no doubt trying to find something to talk about to fill to heavy silence that hung in the air. "They are so stuffy and make me look ridiculous." The teenager pouted and Otabek frowned. He had never seen this self-deprecating side of Yuri and he didn't like it one bit. Reaching out before his mind told him to stop, he grasped Yuri's chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced him to look upwards into Otabek's eyes.

"What are you talking about Yura, you look amazing, as always." He replied and Yuri's face exploded in Tomato red, he pushed Otabek away stuttering uncharacteristically, apparently trying to reply but no actual words were coming out. Cute. Otabek crossed his arms and felt a little half smirk play on his face as he watched Yuri get a grip. OK, maybe that wasn't fair, but he didn't mean to tease the boy, he just spoke the truth. Glaring at Otabek Yuri huffed and crossed his arms in annoyance.

"I thought you said we had to leave, what are you doing fucking around Beka." He spat out, and Otabek had the vision of a tiger flashing its claws. He had to fight his smile from overtaking him.

"Of course. Do you have your gun?" Otabek asked, the words feeling odd on his tongue. He didn't like the idea of Yuri needing to protect himself, that was what Otabek was for, but for the situation he agreed with Viktor that Yuri needed to be armed. Yuri opened his jacket and showed Otabek the gold-plated pistol that had apparently belonged to Yuri's father tucked in his shoulder holster. He felt the piece fit Yuri perfectly, beautiful, dangerous, and just a bit too much.

"Alright, let's go then." Otabek opened the door for Yuri and followed him to the garage, not knowing what to expect and terrified of the prospect of Yuri being put in harms way. Still, he forced himself to steel himself and project his normal air of calm and togetherness. They would need it for what laid in store for them that night.

* Viktor's gray suit is another nod to one of my favorite YOI mafia series "The Shadow People" by Aphroditeboow. Again, I highly recommend this fic to anyone who is loving this one 😊 In it Viktor works as Yuuri's bodyguard and refuses to wear the same black suit as everyone else, claiming gray is a better look on it and I agree! I know, I know, this is like the third time I have mentioned this fic, and maybe it's weird to promote another fic so much, but hey, I just want to spread the love!

** Apparently this is how one measures precision in shooting, I read and read but still do not fully understand what it means lol, but I guess the best accuracy for shooting a handgun is around 1.2 mil. If anyone knows more about guns than me and wants to make some constructive criticism be my guest!

AN: Agh! It's done! Guys I know, just another plot chapter and IM SORRY but I promise that next chapter some serious OtaYuri is happening! I tried to throw a little cuteness in in the end, because I know y'all are thirsty. Who else is concerned for the biggest twink in Russia to go and take on some rival Bratva members!?

Once again, I would like to thank the people that took the time out of their lives to leave a comment on the last chapter. Restless Girl, AK, Rydactyl, Joonu, tibean2992, venom_for_free, therichtomyeds, and HerbalTeaRaven, you guys are my hero's. When I posted my last chapter, I got about half of the comments that I normally do, and I want to stress, I don't want to be one of those writers that bullies or guilts people into commenting, but I'm not going to pretend I wasn't upset by it.

I felt like it must have been a bad chapter and re-read trying to figure out what I did wrong to receive such a low response. I think I may understand, it was a very Yuri centric chapter, and y'all are here for OtaYuri. There was very little interaction between them in that last chapter, so I tried to keep that in mind whilst writing this chapter and I hope I did right by my readers. As I've said before your responses to this story are what give me the life to keep writing it!

All that being said I will not be going back to school or able to find a job until 5/4 per my states mandatory "shelter in place" order, so I will try to keep pumping out these chapters for you. Stay safe out there you guys! Take this seriously, wash your hands, and STAY HOME!