A/N: Welcome back for chapter 2! Alright, so there is a fair warning needed for this chapter, though if you enjoy Mafia!Au's, this shouldn't be much of an issue. This chapter will contain graphic violence, as well as the death of a minor character (also pretty graphically described). If this bothers you, please move along. For everyone staying, please enjoy~

Chapter 2

Yuri woke up with a strange, pressing feeling in his chest and sat up in bed, the covers pooling in his lap. He knew that feeling; he would get it when something bad had happened, or was about to happen. He had never been able to explain it, maybe it was his intuition, but it had never been wrong. That feeling had been there half a decade ago, right before his grandfather had gotten into a fatal accident with that rusty, run-down car of his. Yuri had been an orphan ever since, living on the streets and barely surviving when he had met Otabek. Initially the man had offered him a shelter for a few days, but instead Yuri had been allowed to stay for as long as he liked. Yuri smiled. Otabek probably had saved his life back then, literally. And now; now they had been lovers for over two years and lived together, and it had been the best two years of Yuri's life. He knew he would be with Otabek for the rest of his life.

Quietly Yuri glanced over to Otabek who was sound asleep next to him, sprawled out on his back with soft noises coming from his parted lips. Yuri smiled gently. Maybe that feeling had been wrong this time. Otabek looked so peaceful, and Yuri couldn't stop from ever so softly running his fingertip's along the older man's shoulder and chest. His fingers gently traced the tattoos on Otabek's chest and shoulder; a small portrait of a praying Saint Mary over his heart, and a large black-and-white star on top of his shoulder joint. The lines of the star were bold and clearly not professionally done, but Yuri traced them as if it was the most beautiful piece of art.

Touching Otabek seemed to put Yuri at ease a little, yet he couldn't shake the pressure that had settled in his chest and stomach. There was no way he would be able to fall asleep again feeling like that. He sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length blonde hair, and got out of bed. Yuri put on some sweatpants, not even bothering with underwear of any kind. He was used to walking around the apartment completely naked, but in the quietness of the night he felt kind of exposed. Yuri sighed again as he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a small glass from one of the cupboards and a half-empty bottle of vodka from the fridge.

"This should help me relax a little," Yuri said as he took the bottle and glass with him to the couch. He let himself fall down on it, relaxing against the cool leather.

As he poured himself a drink and threw it back instantly, Yuri noticed a package of Otabek's cigarettes laying on the coffee table, next to the Browning High Power Otabek had given him on his sixteenth birthday. He traced his hand across the gun before taking a cigarette from the package and lighting it. Taking a long drag, the sight of that gun made him smile. It brought back memories of how they'd shared their first kiss when Otabek took him out to the shooting range for the first time. How Otabek had praised him that day would still warm his chest. Or maybe that was just the vodka going down, Yuri wasn't completely sure. He quietly poured himself a few more shots and finished his smoke, tossing the butt into the ashtray on the coffee table, and lay down on the couch. The nicotine rush combined with vodka suddenly hit him hard, and it only took him seconds to fall asleep.

After what felt like only minutes, Yuri awoke to an odd sound coming from within the apartment. Footsteps followed the sound – which he sleepily recognized as the front shutting – and slowly came closer. Those were definitely not Otabek's footsteps. They sounded heavy, no matter how quietly they were placed on the wooden floor of the apartment. Yuri's eyes snapped open as his heartbeat jumped to his throat and threatened to come out as a gasp. He clasped a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet, eyes widened. If someone was sneaking around in their house in the middle of the night, he was absolutely convinced that their intentions were nothing but bad.

Realizing the situation he was in, Yuri let himself ever so gently roll off the couch and onto the floor. He made himself as thin as he could, stomach tightly pressed to the front of the couch, and held his breath. He could hear the blood racing through his veins, the footsteps coming closer and closer before coming to halt. From the earlier steps, Yuri could tell that the intruder was standing near the bathroom door. He knew he had to move. Within a few more steps he would be visible.

"Move!" Yuri repeated the one word in his mind like a mantra. He had to move!

Slowly, ever so slowly Yuri caterpillared along the front of the couch until he was able to hide behind the armrest. And just in time too, because the footsteps continued, moving exactly as Yuri had predicted; though the realization that he was right, made his heart stop for a second. They went past the bathroom, and were going straight into bedroom. The bedroom, where Otabek was still soundly asleep!

"Beka!"

Yuri almost screamed out his boyfriend's name, barely stopping himself. Drawing attention to himself right now would be a bad idea. He was unarmed, and he still had absolutely no idea who was stalking through their house. For all he knew, they could be very trigger-happy with a fully automatic assault rifle. He wasn't going to take that chance. He would do what Otabek had always told him to do: stay calm, and hide; take deep, quiet breaths and stay hidden until he had a chance to run. Otabek had always told Yuri to run and make sure he was safe. To leave Otabek behind and take care of himself. Well, fuck that. Yuri would hide, and he would stay quiet. But there was no way in hell he was going to leave his boyfriend behind in a situation like this. Fuck it! Hearing the floor of the bedroom creak, Yuri released a breath he'd been holding for what felt like hours. If he was going to make a move, he had to do it quick.

Ever so quietly, Yuri glanced around the couch, the intruder nowhere to be seen. However, he did notice the shining gleam of the gun he'd left on the coffee table. A small surge of excitement filled him. He could get to it easily if he tried. Brushing his hair from his face and tugging it behind his ear, his eyes narrowed and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.

Without making a sound Yuri lowered his body to the floor, supporting his weight on one elbow. He outstretched his other arm, reaching far above his head. His whole body stretched and arched to be able to reach the coffee table that held answer to all of his problems, the soft carpet tickling his side. Yuri let out a steady breath and felt his heart jump in his chest as his fingers wrapped around the butt of the gun, and lifted it to from the table. When Yuri was sure it was free, he swung his arm back into himself and crawled back behind the couch, clutching the firearm to his chest.

It felt reassuring. Touching to cold metal seemed to calm something inside of him as he let his fingers glide along the barrel. Maybe it was because this used to be Otabek's gun. Otabek's hand had caressed the metal just like he was doing, his hands had been wrapped around it dozens of times. This gun had kept Otabek safe through all the years he'd carried it, and Yuri felt like it would do the same for him. That it would keep him safe, so he could keep his lover safe.

Loud noises coming from the bedroom snapped Yuri back to his senses and made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. Something shattered against a wall, suspectedly one of the lights from either of their nightstands. Shouting followed, and although Yuri didn't understand what the guttural yells meant, he could tell it was Chinese and that the attacker was unmistakably male. And then he heard Otabek's voice; loud and obviously pissed off.

"Alright, I'm going!", Otabek yelled, followed by a string of what Yuri knew to be Kazakh cusswords. Whoever that guy was, he must have pissed off Otabek beyond anything Yuri had ever experienced. Sure, Otabek would swear sometimes, but nothing ever as profusely as the foulness that just came out of his mouth.

Two sets of footsteps came closer from the bedroom, one sharp and clear, the other muffled and slightly sticky and stumbling on the wooden floor. It was easy to tell which belonged to whom. Yuri felt his heartbeat picking up again. He squeezed his hand tighter around his gun. He had to know what was going on, he had to know what he could do to help out Beka. Anything but scouring behind a couch. He'd never forgive himself if something happened that he could have stopped.

Quietly Yuri pushed himself up a few centimeters, only far enough so he could flip himself around and sit on his haunches. He buried his face into the side of the sofa, making himself as small as he could with his length of 183 cm. Yes, puberty had hit him hard. Within two years he'd gained over half a foot in length, the sporadic growth spurts had left his whole body aching from time to time. At first he'd been that stereotypical teenage boy: tall, skinny, and clumsy, not sure what to do with the extra length he suddenly had. But Otabek had made him exercise. Cardio workouts as well as weight trainings. And to Yuri's surprise, he actually gained muscle faster than he thought he would. Within months the difference had been astonishing. His chest had been wider, muscles more refine and stronger. Yuri had been pleased with himself, especially when Otabek showered his body with kisses and praised him on his hard work repeatedly. Just the thought of not being able to have Otabek on top of him anymore and lathering him with kisses, chilled his heart.

So he did what he could for now: observe. Sit back and wait for his chance. Yuri carefully leaned to the side and glanced around the back of the couch with one eye, hair tucked behind his ear. The assailant was facing away from Yuri, right arm stretched out towards Otabek, a gun pointed directly at his head. He wore black pants, presumably slacks, and from what Yuri could tell from the back, a black leather jacket. A disapproving sound almost came out of his mouth; Otabek's love for leather had made it easy for him to spot fake leather, and this guy was most definitely wearing something synthetic. The man's hair was cut close to his head, his stature short and chubby.

"No wonder the floor was creaking so much. Fucking pig!", Yuri thought. Why the hell would anyone send a fat guy like that into someone's house to silently kill them?

And then Yuri's eyes shifted to Otabek. He'd been forced down onto his knees with his hands behind his head. His gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, Otabek's hipbones peeking out above the waistband. A trail of soft, dark hair ran from below his bellybutton down into the sweats. His tattoos stood out against his honey-kissed skin: a thorned rose along the line of his groin, the flower resting just above the hip bone; the small praying Saint Mary over his heart; the large black-and-white star on top of his left shoulder. The muscles in Otabek's arms and chest flexed in annoyance, making the nipple piercing in his right nipple jump in the light. But that wasn't what nearly tore a sound from Yuri's throat.

It was when he focused on Otabek's face, that he realized how pissed off the older man really was. His eyes were angry as he was looking up at the man who held him at gunpoint. Yuri could see a cut on Otabek's lip, some dried up blood around it. It looked like he'd been punched in the face, maybe even pistol whipped. Whatever it was, it was going to leave a nasty bruise. Of that Yuri was sure.

"Where is it?!", the Chinese man yelled in English with a thick accent.

Otabek shook his head, looking straight up at the man. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but coming into my house at night and threatening me is going to cost you."

Now if the look on Otabek's face hadn't already shown how angry he was and how badly he was holding back, his voice surely would have betrayed him. Otabek generally spoke English without much of an accent, only there with certain words or when you paid attention to it. But now his accent was as thick and heavy as the man in front of him. It sent a chill down Yuri's spine, both in fear and excitement.

"Don't lie to me! You think you can get away with ripping us off? We're ten pounds short on the cocaine you sold us, you think we wouldn't notice?!"

Something clicked in Yuri's mind. Chinese. Cocaine. This had to be about the deal Otabek and the head of the Chinese mafia, Mr. Yang, had made only a night prior. They had met at an abandoned parking garage. Yuri had been allowed to tag along, and the whole thing had felt like a scene from a cheap gangster movie. The black Hummer they were in had tainted windows and had been escorted by two black cars. At the very back, a black van had followed, holding the products the Chinese had asked for. When they'd reached the designated meeting spot, three black cars had already been waiting for them. The deal had gone down smoothly. Yuri hadn't been allowed to leave the car, which made him a little sullen. But that's what Otabek had always been like: Yuri could come along on trades, but he was never allowed out of the car. Just in case, Otabek would always say. But he could easily follow the ordeal from his spot in the backseat of the Hummer.

Otabek had kindly requested to see the money first, to which the Chinese men had obliged; nine million dollars in cash, all neatly wrapped and sealed in stacks of ten thousands. Yuri could see how Otabek raised and arm and how his men – their men – backed up the van and opened the backdoors. Inside the van had been their end of the deal: 100 pounds of pure, uncut cocaine. It was something the Kazakh mafia was known for, and they made such large deals with foreign countries on a regular basis. The tightly wrapped packages of narcotics had been weighed to show that they held up their end of the deal. After that, hands were shaken, some small courtesies had occurred, and both parties had gone their separate ways.

Something seemed to have clicked in Otabek's mind too. A frown appeared on his face and his eyes narrowed.

"We weighed everything before handing it over. Your boss was obviously there, he saw it too. So instead of accusing me, maybe you should have a closer look at your own organization." Otabek close to hissed the last part of his sentence.

"Oh damn", Yuri thought, catching his tongue piercing between his teeth. He'd never heard his boyfriend hiss like that. Not even on that rare occasion where Otabek would let Yuri fuck him, and Yuri would purposely not spread him enough. Something about hearing Otabek moan and hiss in pain under him had always turned him on. Yuri wasn't only a masochist, but deep down and given the right circumstances, he could be a sadist as well.

"Our men would not do something like that! We are loyal. How dare you even suggest something like that!", the other man yelled angrily, and began to pace nervously in front of Otabek. It seemed like the weight of Otabek's words sank in, and he didn't like it one bit. He flung his gun around in the air dangerously, muttering a few words in Chinese. Yuri suspected they were profanities of some sort.

"Do you really think Mr. Yang would have agreed to our deal if we hadn't held up to our end? He would have killed us right then and there," Otabek continued with a low, steady voice. His dark eyes following every movement the Chinese man made, and Yuri knew he was waiting for the right moment to strike and knock the man off his feet.

"You fooled all of us! Mr. Yang too. You're just a thief when it comes down to it!" The English was broken and rushed, and Yuri could barely make out the words.

With a small, drawn out breath, Yuri steadied himself against the couch again. The muscles in his legs were straining to keep him up, though part of that strain was nothing but tension and uncertainty about what this pig's next move would be. Yuri bit his lip and slowly slid his index finger onto the trigger of his gun. Otabek looked extremely annoyed again. Yuri knew he took great pride in always holding up his end of a deal, no matter what it was. To be called a thief and a liar was probably one of the worst things the man could have said to Otabek.

"We didn't. Take. It. Now I suggest you get out of my house and start looking for who really stole your goods."

Otabek's voice dropped dangerously low, and it sent a shiver down Yuri's back. His hands were getting clammy with cold sweat, and he felt a small trail of perspiration run down the side of his temple. He didn't like where this was going. Otabek was angry, and the intruder seemed too conflicted about his own feelings to even be holding a gun. The man was still frantically pacing around in front of Otabek, hands raised up to rest in his neck. The butt of the gun dug into his skull, and suddenly the world seemed to slow down around Yuri as the man moved.

The man spun around, eyes a little wide, a crooked smile on his face. Within the blink of an eye he had his gun pointed straight at Otabek, the barrel pressed tightly against his forehead.

"You know –," he started, his voice unsteady and high. "Mr. Yang said to not return without the coke. But he also said that if we weren't able to get it back, a bullet through your brain would be good enough."

Yuri saw Otabek's eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and without a second thought, Yuri pushed himself away from the couch. His body seemed to move on its own as he ever so quietly but effectively took a few long strides to close the distance between himself and the Chinese man. Cold sweat trickling down his back, lip caught between his teeth, Yuri brought his left arm up in slow motion, the gun clenched tightly in his hand. The tip of the barrel grazed the back of the man's head, just above the base of his skull.

Wide, green eyes flashed down at Otabek for a millisecond. Yuri saw Otabek's mouth move and his eyes shoot open, but he couldn't hear what his boyfriend was trying to tell him. All he heard was his blood rushing through his veins and his own erratic heartbeat in his ears. His eyes shift back to the intruder, who finally seems to be turning around at the pressure of cold metal against his shaven head. But Yuri wouldn't let him. There was no way he would let that man turn around. Before he knew it, his eyes squeezed shut tightly, and his finger tightened on the trigger.

The deafening sound of a gunshot reverberated against the walls of the apartment, followed by a spray of warm liquid onto his face and chest. The sound was loud enough to drown out his own heartbeat for a few seconds before it died out. It was instantly replaced by a loud ringing in Yuri's ears. And then –

Silence.

Nothing but silence enveloped Yuri, and he caught up with the world again. His eyes blinked open right when the Chinese intruder disappeared from his field of view and fell to the floor in a limp, lifeless heap. Yuri's eyes moved down slowly to where Otabek was still sitting on his knees. His face and torso were covered in red specks of blood and thicker things, but Yuri could barely register it. He let out a shaky, almost desperate breath he didn't know he was holding, and felt his body starting to shake. A second later his legs gave out and he sank to the ground.

"Is this what being in shock feels like?" Yuri distantly asked himself.

It wasn't until he saw Otabek scrambling over to him and felt the man's hands squeezing his upper arms tight enough to leave bruises, that his hearing returned, and he was finally able to make out the frantic way Otabek was screaming at him.

"Yuri! Yura! Are you hurt?"

All Yuri could do was stare at Otabek and shake his head rapidly. In return, Otabek pulled Yuri closer and wrapped his strong arms tightly around him. The warmth of Otabek's body was so familiar, and it slowly seeped into Yuri's being. He relaxed ever so slightly against his boyfriend, his lover, and it suddenly dawned on him; this heat – Otabek's heat – it could have been gone. If Yuri hadn't moved when he had, the dead body laying on the floor would have been Otabek's. Yuri tried to glance over, but Otabek's arms prevented him from moving his head. All he could see was a stain of red on their white, fluffy carpet, slowly expanding.

Otabek simply held Yuri as his senses returned to his body completely and made him shake more vigorously. Yuri buried his face in Otabek's chest, not even caring about the small spatters of blood on either of their skin. He just needed Otabek close, as close as he could get him, but despite their closeness, Yuri still felt cold. Breathing hurt, and it took Yuri a few tries to find his voice, though it was still far too breathy and shaken. Slowly Yuri raised his head, looking straight into Otabek's eyes. All he saw in them was desperation.

"Beka..."

Warm, calloused hands came up and cupped Yuri's face. Thumbs brushed along his stained cheeks, effectively smearing out the blood. Yuri didn't care.

"Yura..." Even though Otabek's voice was soft, Yuri could hear that same edge of desperation and fear in it. The tenderness was all that he needed to come undone in the older man's arms and start shaking violently.

"Beka... I just killed someone..."

A/N: This.. I'm obsessed with this AU. Please let me know what you think of it? Love it, hate it? Recommendations? And yes, Beka's tattoos have meanings! The ones mentioned aren't the only ones he has, but here's what they stand for.

- Portrait of St. Mary: Someone who will never betray his friends.
- Star on his shoulder: He is a man of discipline and tradition.
- Thorned rose: He became of age in prison.

Hope to be back soon with the final chapter. Which will be.. pretty much all naughtiness .