Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline
Chapter Thirteen- Otabek Altin, The Last Man You'll Ever Meet
Otabek couldn't sleep that night. His silk sheets, 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton comforter, and good down-filled pillows weren't enough to lull him into relaxation after the night he had just had. He was buzzing with the excitement of finally admitting his love for the grandson of his boss who happened to be the leader of the Russian Mafia and was also 17. For one more month, but it still mattered. He was also terrified for all those exact same points (for obvious reasons) as well as being heartbroken at finally able to be honest with each other, yet so far from happiness with his Yura. Yes, Otabek was feeling all of these feelings, a lot of them feelings he was not used to and uncomfortable dealing with. So most of all, more than any other emotion, as the night went on, be became more angry. Angry at Nikolai for forcing Yuri to come along on that messy business last night, and at Viktor for escalating the violence into murder, right before his poor kittens very eyes.
Sure, it was probably the right decision and sure, the man really didn't leave him much choice… And SURE Otabek was ready to break this Ruslan's neck as well, but he hated that Yuri had witness to such a thing when he was CLEARLY not ready. This was his first job after all and Otabek would have much preferred to have the boy start with something like a simple drug deal or maybe to go rough someone up at one of the many businesses the Plisetsky's controlled. Anything but THIS. He didn't ever think he could ever forget the look on Yuri's face when Viktor pulled the trigger. The horror that swept through him was ill disguised and he could tell right away that Yuri was anything but alright. Otabek was ashamed at himself for his inability to control himself earlier and wouldn't forgive himself if he was the cause of any of the terror on Yuri's face.
It was all too easy to fall into his caretaker role where the boy was concerned. His one and only mission become to get Yuri home and to try and ease his trauma in the only way he knew how. He was never good with words, but he felt he had learned over the last 7 months how to make his actions speak for him. It broke his heart when Yuri got sick over the sight of Ruslans blood everywhere. It was a sight Otabek himself had never wanted to see, Yuri covered in blood that is.
Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed, done pretending he was going to get any rest and dressed in some joggers and a tank top intent on working out his aggression in the luxury gym he was provided with. It was around 5am, and the house was still in its slumberous state, so he was quiet as he crept through the dark halls and made his was down into the basement which held the gym. But when he arrived, he was caught off guard to see all the lights were on and there was an early morning news show playing on the flat screen.
He was light on his feet as he inspected the area until he finally caught sight of a familiar head of silver silken locks. He was facing away from Otabek working hard on the shoulder press. Great, he came here to blow off steam, yet one of the causes of his anger was unknowingly ruining it.
"Good Morning Otabek, never knew you were such an early riser." Victor called, slightly out of breath but still sounding as chipper as ever. Otabek thought he would never get use to the oddities of this man.
"I'm not." He replied shortly, surprised that Viktor knew it was him though he had not turned around or even glanced his way. How did he know?! Otabek turned, intending to walk away and hunker down in the opposite corner of the gym when the Russian spoke again.
"You are upset at me, aren't you?" Viktor asked, not turning to look or even stopping his workout, but the words stopped Otabek in his tracks. He didn't want to talk about this right now, he was too angry to do so constructively. It was times like these that he missed his life before he had come to work for the Plisetsky's, he never had any problem handling his emotions before. It really must be true; love turns strong men into weak fools. With no response after several drawn out seconds the older man let out a sigh and turned to face Otabek, the weight making a loud *clang*.
"Come with me." He said that sly smile playing on his lips that Otabek really resented at the moment, but he followed the man anyways. It didn't matter if he was mad at Viktor, he was still his boss and he would follow orders. Viktor led him to the sparring room.
"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" The silverette baited and Otabek took his beginning stance letting his body language answer for him hopefully stating 'absolutely not'. Viktor simply shrugged before leaping into action. The men fought until they were hunched over sore and panting for air. Otabek wished he could say his anger was dissipating, but the rage burned on.
"Look I know you are angry, but Yuri is not just some little boy, he can't sheltered any longer. I for one think he handled himself very well last night." Viktor said right before swinging a fist at Otabek's face that he was barely able to dodge.
"That's because you weren't the one helping him keep it together. The kid got sick as soon as he the blood in the mirror." Otabek barked back, remembering his Yura, pale yellow hair and porcelain skin spackled with the dark burgundy of the drying blood.
"Well who doesn't? I call that normal, I know I lost it when I watched my first man die, and I couldn't even stomach it until I got home, I threw up right there in that alley we were in. Right on top of that importer from Latvia that Alexsandr had killed. Slit his throat to be exact. I was so embarrassed, I thought they were all going to laugh at me and call me a 'pedik' (faggot), but I remember Aleksandr just looking over at me with a completely calm face and said 'Happens to everyone kid.'" Viktor blocked a well-placed jab at his ribs and swept a leg in retaliation, but Otabek was too quick, using his superior size to push Viktor onto his back. He was mad, he was so mad, now not just at the incident, but the fact that Viktor was starting to make sense.
He remembered back into his past. Sure, growing up he had seen his share of dead bodies in the streets of his neighborhood, where gangs ran wild and unemployment was off the charts. It was different watching a man take another's life right in front of you. He didn't know if he threw up, but he sure as hell wanted to. He was not okay but had to at least act like he was because he had no one watching his back. He felt like he was starting to understand what Viktor meant about keeping Yuri safe from the inside. They can't stop him from being exposed to the violent and dangerous side of his family business, but they would at least support him through it.
He had Viktor pinned down, but the victory was beyond his grasp as he rolled of and covered his hands with his face. Otabek needed to remember his principals. This was why he was devoting himself to Yuri however he can, because protecting Yuri was the most important thing. Always. And it wasn't always going to be pretty.
"I'm sorry, your right, I just… I hate to see him cry." He said quietly, wary of whose home they were still occupying. Viktor gave him a knowing look as he rose to his feet.
"As do I my friend, but we just have to do the best we can to help him along." The older man extended his hand and Otabek took it.
"Now, shall we go have a little breakfast? I doubt Pavel has anything prepared so early, but I've been known to fry up a few eggs and sausages in my day." Viktor's easy smile fell onto his face again and Otabek nodded curtly in response. Neither bothering to shower, they descended to the kitchen where Viktor made fast work of his promise, dazzling Otabek with his глазунья (Fried eggs, also called "Eyes wide open"). Viktor was unusually quiet while eating, and normally Otabek would relish in the silence, preferring quiet contemplation to listening to others ramble on about meaningless things. However, because he had grown accustom to said ramblings of the over enthusiastic older man the last few months, he found himself feeling that the silence was heavy and wanted to fill it.
"What happened with the bratok from last night?" He offered between bites of his breakfast, more of a way to fill the silence than genuine curiosity. That was until Victor smirked while sipping his coffee.
"Oh, he's still here." He replied smoothly, looking Otabek in the eyes with a mischievous look. "Not much of a talker, I was hoping a certain friend of mine with particular skills could possibly help me out. See if we can find out why his people suddenly think we are 'weak' and that they are free to come and take over our town." He casually continued gracefully dining with polished manners.
Otabek felt his lips curl into a smile. He didn't particular like violence, but it seemed violence like him. And for the right cause, he could find himself become particularly inspired in his work. There was a reason he bore all of these tattoos AND the reputation he had. Deciding he was done with his meal, he pushed the remnants aside as he felt a sudden urgency punish. To let this man answer for the words of his superior from last night. Why did these Moscow thugs show up out of nowhere? Everyone in Russia, eastern Europe, and Central Asia knew that. This thing with the docks were only the beginning if what they said was true about them looing to take down the Plisetsky's. Viktor gave him a small laugh but finished quickly and lead him back underground the townhome.
They went past the gym, past the infirmary, and down to a secret door at the very end of a dark hall that opened to an old brick staircase that lead even deeper underground. The air became stuffy and the only lighting was cheap fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling every 10 feet. Everything was made up of brick or concrete, making it cold and unforgiving. This was Otabeks first time to this part of the estate before, though he had heard of its existence.
They passed quite a few heavy iron doors before stopping so Viktor could pull out a key and he had to wonder if there was anyone else being kept down here. It wasn't his business, so he didn't ask, too focused on the man behind this door.
The man was completely naked, blindfolded, and gagged. Bound a little too tightly with rope to an old wooden chair. His skin was beaten and bruised; some blood smeared across his torso from a cut on his shoulder. He seemed to stir when Viktor and Otabek and began feebly trying to resist his binding and made muffled sounds into the gag, like he was trying to show them his spirit was not broken. Oh, Otabek could fix that. He could fix that real quick.
Well let's get some introductions going, shall we?" Viktor announced in an amused voice walking over and peeling off the prisoner's blindfold. "This is Otabek Altin, and if you continue to tell us nothing, he will be the last person you ever meet. Otabek, this is Nothing, or at least that's what I'm calling him for now since that's all that he'd told us." He then removed the gag and the man coughed a few times before looking at Otabek with hate filled eyes.
" Go fuck yourself чурка*." The man spat out and Otabek felt a switch inside him snap, his anger from earlier finding a very good outlet. He immediately stood up tall and walked over to the array of 'equipment' he had to interrogate the prisoner with. Wrapping his hands around a large bullwhip he smiled as he turned around, curling the tail of the whip around his hand as he made his way over to the prisoner. Waiting until he was right in front of his face, he leant down and smiled, a smile that has and should terrify any and all men at his mercy.
"Hello Nothing." He spits, literally, right in the mans face and then steps right on his dick, pressing it harshly against the wooden chair beneath him. The man screamed out in pain and Otabek unfurled the whip cracking it mincingly behind him as he dug his foot in. "You will tell us we want to know, or I will show no mercy." Otabek sneered, seeing the mans eyes water. He made a couple of choking noises and then Otabek removed his foot. "Viktor put the gag back on." He ordered, feeling bold in the moment and not remembering he was no one to be giving Viktor orders but had forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Viktor didn't seem to mind and did as he was told. Otabek took a few steps back before he was in good rang and swung his whip through the air hard, landing a lash on the man chest. He screamed into the gag and Otabek just smiled his sadistic smile again.
"Maybe you'll have something to say after 20 lashes, what do you say?" Otabek wagered and the man writhed. Viktor however went over to lean again the wall and pulled out his phone. Content to let Otabek dish out his punishment and oh was Otabek ready. He rained down blow after blow ripping screams strong enough to penetrate the gag. His shoulder never tired, he barely broke a sweat, his adrenaline pumped as he unleashed hell on this pour soul who bore the crimes of Otabeks frustrations. Viktor and him took turns, the former asking the questions and Otabek dealing with the physical punishment. He was pleased with the arrangement, not in the mood to think, just in the mood to destroy. Viktor on the other hand was a wonderful interrogator, and between them it only took 3 hours, 2 fingers, and 1 broken arm but they finally got some decent information from the prisoner before he lost consciousness from the pain. They left him in that little cell, still tied to the now blood soaked chair he was in when they came in.
They learned some new information, but were both tired and sore, and needed to get cleaned up before they presented it to the Pakhan. Otabek went back to his room for a shower and checked his phone on the way concerned and delighted to have a message from Yuri. He hesitated opening it. They hadn't spoken since last night when they were honest with each other about their feelings for one another. He had felt lighter and glad to not have to hurt Yuri's feeling by denying his own, but on the other hand things weren't any better between them. They weren't allowed to be together and they certainly weren't allowed to act on their feelings, but his Yura wasn't exactly good about playing by the rules or giving up on what he wants easily. These were things Otabek adored about him, but in terms of their mutual feeling and Otabek's life literally being on the line if anything were to be discovered, it was not a good trait. Otabek would be a fool not to be scared now that he made his love known, but he was already a fool for falling in love in the first place.
'I want to go somewhere' was all the message said. Otabek breathed a small sigh of relief. Nothing weird happening here. Otabek sent him a quick reply.
'I am about to report to the Pakhan, I can escort you anywhere you wish afterwards.' Send. Was that too much? No time for second thoughts as he sped through his shower, washing blood out of his hands and hair, leaving his stained clothing in a pile in the corner of the bathroom. He somehow made it to the Pakhan's office, suit on, hair brushed, looking calm and collected in 15 minutes.
They kept the meeting brief, Viktor taking the lead. He explained how the Solntsevskaya's had some men in St Petersburg, maybe even someone in the Plisetsky Bratva. They've gained information about Yuri and his flamboyount, party boy lifestyle, and they also apparently have some information about Nikolai that Otabek had not been privy to before the prisoner had screamed it out at him after Otabek had removed one of his fingers. They knew that Nikolai was in poor health, suffering from a heart condition. They thought now would be a good time to come and take over the Plisetsky territory and eliminate their name. Nikolai was of course livid and swore Otabek to secrecy about the heart condition. No one was supposed to know about that, especially not Yuri. He thanked them both and then dismissed Otabek so he could call in Yakov and they could come up with some sort of strategy.
Otabek was about to text Yuri that he was ready, but decided it made more sense to just go straight to his room. His mind was still spinning a little to hear that Nikolai was in bad health. Was that why he suddenly wanted Yuri to gain as much experience as possible? Was it that serious? He needed to get it together before he saw Yuri. Despite his troublesome attitude, he could tell Yuri loved his grandfather. He was the only family the poor kid had left.
Walking up, he knocked on Yuri's door no one answered. It wasn't locked so he took to letting himself in, he had been called for after all.
"Yura?" Otabek called out realizing quickly that Yuri wasn't in his bedroom. He walked through the huge walk in closet to access the huge en suite as he did the night before. Tonight however there was a very different Yuri present. This little devil was lounging like quite a siren in the oversized soaking tub in the corner of the bathroom. Fragrant bubbles in the bowl concealed the more intimate area, but it was obvious Yuri was very much naked under the slightly pink tinted orbs.
"Beka!" He cried, seemingly surprised to see him there. "What're you doing here!" He cried in an accusatory tone, pink blush creeping over his cheeks. The bad man inside Otabek enjoyed how shy Yuri was looking in this moment. His pale blond hair tied up in a messy bun on top of his head, a few tendrils still escaping framing his face, curling slightly at the moisture steaming up from the water. His face pretty and pink, matching his cute flush nipple that were justtt visible above the bubbles. His porcelain skin shimmering in what whatever expensive oils Yuri adds to his baths to make his skin sinfully soft. The good man in his had him averting his eyes, knowing that whilst glorious, this sight was not meant to be seen by him. When he did this however, he heard mischievous laughter and slight splashing in front of him
"Beka, I didn't take you to be such a pervert." He heard Yuri call out in a teasing voice. Otabek knew by that tone that his gaze, while totally unprofessional, was wanted and damn him he was just a man and he wanted to look so bad.
When he looked up his Yura, who was all but giving him bedroom eyes, was shifting his legs so Otabek was met with the sight of water rolling like diamonds off the perfect legs of his little minx. He wanted to just grab one of those legs and SPREAD. Inspect ever inch of this squirming wet little kitten till all those bubbles were gone.
"Like what you see, Daddy?" Yuri purred making a show of arching his back and letting water roll off his delicately toned chest. Otabek balled his hand into a fist.
"Watch it little boy." Otabek hissed out fighting the stirring in his gut and his instinct to absolutely devour what was in front of him at the moment.
"Oh no? Daddy doesn't like?" He laughed and Otabek turned around again, refusing to give anything more to this game that would only result in trouble. Allah help him, Yuri needed to not flirt with him like this. He was still just a man, a man with needs who hadn't had a beautiful body such as this one in front of him for so long.
"Yuri stop messing around." He growled out, his voice dropping automatically now that his arousal had been awoken.
"Oh fine I'll stop, but to be fair you were the one that walked into MY bathroom while I was taking a bath." Yuri laughed.
"And I apologize, I should have messaged you when I was done speaking with your grandfather instead of letting myself in." Otabek apologized formally, desperately reaching for the line of bodyguard and client, not star-crossed lovers.
"Oh it's fine calm down you big killjoy I was just saying I thought it would take more time with Dedushka so I thought I'd take a bath. Y'know relax? Have you ever tried that?" Yuri questioned and Otabek let himself laugh at the question.
"Not since I met you." He replied. Of course, that wasn't true, he had always had trouble relaxing, but growing up in poverty right after the fall of the USSR in Kazakhstan didn't provide a good environment for relaxing. Prison isn't very relaxing either. But he had stolen bits of relaxation through the years, the baths at the Katsuki's Onsen in Japan, reading any and everything that was of interest to him, and of course riding his motorcycle. It was then that a terrible, but glorious idea came over him.
"Did you have anywhere specific you wanted to go tonight?" Otabek asked Yuri remembering he had promised to take his blond prince wherever he'd like to go.
"Not really, just wanted to get out of here. We could go anywhere as longs as it's just… us two." Yuri said that last part so quiet fit was difficult to hear it, but Otabek did and his heart was full. He wanted to show Yuri everything was going to be alright even if he had no idea how it would be so.
"Well, I'll show you how I like to relax then. But your going to have to cover up quite a bit more than normal kitten." He couldn't help the words as they slipped out of his mouth. He turned around just in time for Yuri's cheeks to burn at the accidental admission of the new nickname, but Otabek couldn't bring himself to regret it. Not when Yuri made the most amazing smile when he did.
"Well why don't you go and pick something out for me and I'll get dried off." Yuri called and Otabek already heard the dripping signaling Yuri standing and rushed from the bathroom, desperate to separate himself from the naked temptation of his heart's deepest desires.
He set to work with the daunting task of finding something for the kitten to wear. He ran his fingers over designer items mixed in with items that looked like they came from a sex shop. Tiny little croptops and teensy outfits unworthy of what he had in mind. Eventually he was able to put together a responsible outfit of a rare find of a long-sleeved black shirt, dark wash jeans, Dr Martins, and a fur lined black leather jacket. He hoped it'd be warm enough; it wasn't snowing or anything but it was still February in Russia and his boy was so tiny.
"Make sure to dry your hair all the way!" Otabek called to Yuri in the bathroom. He heard a huff and then the reluctant banging of drawers opening and closing and then finally the whirl of the hairdryer. Otabek busied himself with finding some leather fur-trimmed gloves as well as a luxurious scarf for Yuri while the boy finished getting ready. Eventually Yuri emerged from the bathroom in a tiger print silk bathrobe with his hair in 2 French braids and a minimal amount of make up dusting his rosy cheeks. Otabek though he looked gorgeous.
"Really? I ask you to dress me up and this is what I get? You're not very creative are you Beka?" Yuri poked at the conservative clothing like a child with vegetables on his plate, Otabek just rolled his eyes.
"Be quiet brat and just put it on, I don't want you to get cold from the wind." He replied crossing his arms over his chest.
"Wind? Where are we going?" Yuri asked. Silence. The teenage huffed indignantly and then all at once dropped his towel and Otabek barely was able to close his eyes and turn around in time before he saw too much. Too much it could be enough to make him want to never let them make leave the bedroom all night. No- bad, stop Otabek. His head was spinning and his mouth literally salivating at the knowledge that the object of his very lewd desires was naked not 10 feet from him. Yuri laughed at the action and got himself dressed quickly all the while teasing Otabek and calling him a pervert (which didn't really make sense since Otabek was trying his best NOT to look).
Eventually, and slightly begrudgingly on both their parts, they made it out of the room with Yuri dressed appropriately for the frigid temperatures outside. They made a quick detour Otabek's room so he could change into a similar outfit of jeans, hoodie, and motorcycle boots. He took a minute to grab his 2 guns and placed them in his holster before covering up with a leather jacket and fingerless riding gloves. He'd made Yuri wait outside much to the teenager's displeasure.
"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you in regular clothes before. Is this what you normally look like? Is this a date?" Yuri yammered on and Otabek fought the urge to strangle the boy.
"No this is not a date, now c'mon before I change my mind." Otabek tugged roughly on Yuri's arm pulling him down the stairs and leading him to the garage. He walked over to a secluded corner with his bike that was hidden with a nice fitting cover. After it's removal Yuri all but squealed in delight.
"BEKAAAA! You ride a motorcycle? Oh my fucking God how did I not know about this!?" The ecstatic teenager cried running over to the bike and running his manicured hands over it. He chuckled and reached into his saddlebags and pulled out 2 helmets. The spare he'd bought on a whim a couple months ago on the off chance that he ever needed to take Yuri on his bike. 'Purely for safety reasons' is how he reasoned it back then, but now he was thinking he knew exactly what this would come down to.
"Put this on." He ordered, offering not other direction or small talk, but Yuri didn't seem to mind. He just snatched the helmet and was trying to crawl onto the saddle before Otabek was even finished getting settled.
"So eager." Otabek couldn't help but tease. He knew he shouldn't but there was only so much he could hold back. It was like heaven when his Yura wrapped his arms around his waist, grabbing him low and tight and he had a feeling he was going to have a naughty kitten on his hands. Good thing he was an excellent driver.
"You comfortable Yura, I'm going to start going now." Otabek warms and was pleased to feel the small hands grasping his middle give a firm squeeze.
"Yes, please." Yuri spoke in a sultry tone and Otabek roared his bike alive with a squeal from Yuri at the growl of the engine. He was careful and low key whilst they were leaving the gated Plisetsky properly, but as soon as he turned off their street, he really opened up the throttle and ate up all the screams and squeezes Yuri gave him. They rode around St Petersburg for hours, once stopping at a little street cart selling Pirozhki, but otherwise content to cling to each other on the safety on the bike and the rare feeling of freedom take hold as wind stung their faces and whipped at their hair.
Around sunset they ended up on the bridge next to the Palace Bridge. Still beautiful views, but not as crowded as the tourist trap of the former. St Isaacs Cathedral stood tall and proud in the distance. Boats passed by underneath them, shining soft lights on the water as day so rapidly became night, like the days of winter so often do.
They watch the sun go down over the Reka Bol'shaya Neva in silence. Both buzzing with the high of the ride and being so close to one another. Otabek still didn't know how such an angelic creature as this blonde baby could love a man like him. Those delicate hands had clung to his chest, his waist, and on more than a couple instanced, slipped lower than he was willing to admit out loud. Now, they were gripping the handrail as the youth looked out at the sunset and the hopelessly in love Kazakh gangster stared right at him as they spent what time they could with each other, in the small ways in which they were allowed.
It gave Otabek hope that he could do this. Keep his feelings for Yuri in check and Yuri's in turn, with a few leaning moments like with the bath earlier. Otabek wasn't a fool, he expected nothing different from Yuri's free-loving nature but made it his mission to keep this relationship professional and friendly at most a rather difficult task to achieve.
And he would do it all. Because it was the best way to stay with his Yura, to admire him and make sure he is cared for and happy as much as possible. He has now devoted himself to this boy in all the ways he was allowed because he couldn't help it. Otabek absolutely worshipped his Yura and was helpless but to serve him and love him discretely. His ice-cold love affair. His beautiful kitten, his precious Yura.
Oh what a fool he was indeed this would be enough for him.
"Marvelous. Otabek, this is Nobody or that's what I've taken to calling him since he
refuses to give us any information including his name.
AN:
*Чурка: pronounced churka is a racist slur for dumb, uneducated people of asian decent or descendants of the former USSR such a Kazakhstan, Georgia, Uzbekistan, etc.
Thank you guys so much for 5000 hits on this story! Truly so humbled and awe inspired by this response that I never expected! I apologize for taking a while to update. When I began this story back in November, I plotted out 17 chapters. Now, I realized that I had added so much to it, that there was no way I would be able to wrap it up in 4 chapters. I had to completely rework my outline for the story and I am now happy to announce I anticipate this being around 20 chapters. Maybe 19 and an epilogue. I want to make sure I give this story the ending it desperves. I have read so many great fics with shit ending and I will be damned if mine is one of them.
I hope that Yuri doesn't seem OOC in this chapter especially when he finds out about Beka riding a motorcycle and gushed. I imagine that now that they have addressed their feelng, Yuri is feeling more confident than ever expressing himself to Otabek like he does in the Anime once he befriends Otabek.
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