Days went by that were almost blissful. The two men grew closer to each other, each day becoming more of their true selves. Yuri became more mellow and shy while Victor became chipper and optimistic. Though they continued to reveal their true nature to each other, neither was disappointed. Yuri grew fonder of Victor given his new, more youthful and carefree personality. The silver-haired man would openly joke around with him, laugh, goof off, act silly, and he doted on the Japanese man with an affection Yuri had never known from him. It took Yuri by surprise when Victor began acting like this but it seemed so natural that he quickly became accustomed to the new Victor.

Although each of them wanted to spend the whole day together, still in the honeymoon phase of their romance, they restrained themselves so as to not upset the balance of the house. They did however, without fail, spend every night together. Yuri kept his things in the room he used to share with Phichit but he hadn't slept in the same room as his friend in days. Instead, nights were spent with Victor, in his bed, reading until he was too tired to continue. Then Victor would take the book from him, mark the page with a piece of string, and the two would hold each other until the morning. Yuri often woke up wondering how everything had managed to turn out so easy.

Those nights were special. During the day, Yuri would be on the clock. He slicked his hair back, put in his contacts, and gathered information like he was supposed to. Yuri always felt a twinge of guilt when he handed Phichit the information to be sent back to headquarters but he reasoned that it wasn't personal, just business. I'm here on business, he told himself. The only way I can make my relationship with Victor work is if I keep up my work duties. Then no one will have reason to call me back home or question my activity here. I just do my work then I retire at night, like any other nine-to-fiver, to my personal life.

And that personal life was blissful. Yuri came to Victor's room in lounging clothes with his hair loose and his glasses on. His partner always smiled when he entered and pulled their bodies together by hooking an arm around Yuri's hip. Then they would kiss. They never did anything more, not because they didn't want to but because they knew they weren't ready for it yet. The relationship, although undefined, was still young and fragile.

Yuri could not explain his "night terrors" to Victor. In truth, Yuri had been plagued by panic attacks since he and Victor started getting closer. The younger man had to be awoken regularly during the night because he would start gasping horrendously as though he couldn't breathe. It made his partner afraid to see him like that but Yuri always assured the other that he was fine. Sometimes, they could be set off during the day if Yuri's thoughts got away from him. The only way Yuri could live in a decent amount of comfort with all the dread that weighed down his heart was to ignore the truth as often as he could and to deal with the panic attacks when he could not.

They were trigged when Yuri's conscience reminded him of his circumstance. All too quickly, he would remember the horrible things he would have to do to Victor and the tremendous hurt that would eternally follow his betrayal. Sometimes, he would vomit. Other times, he would gasp and tremble and stutter. Sometimes, he just shut down. He would sit in silence, looking at nothing, listening to nothing, and just thinking numbingly awful thoughts. Victor took him back to his realm of blissful ignorance the same way the ocean reclaims a shell that has washed up on shore: slowly, gently, patiently.

It was almost too easy for Yuri to fall for Victor. The man attracted him in every way. He loved it especially when Victor would fawn over his pet, taking him for walks and out to play often. The man loved Makkachin and it was evident. He carried the dog around when he felt that his pet needed to be pampered and even let him climb onto the bed at night. Most people would complain of the smell and the shedding but Yuri had always liked dogs.

Yuri and Victor both noticed early on into the attacks that Makkachin had a keen eye for recognizing a panic attack before it arrived. He would follow at Yuri's heals with dedication, whining and licking. Sure enough, in a few minutes or a few seconds, Yuri's heart would be racing and he'd be trying desperately to calm himself down. Victor made sure that Yuri was never without the dog. The Asian man was already certain that he'd take the dog back to Japan with him once Victor was incarcerated. He would make sure that the beloved pet and the precious paintings were cared for exactly how Victor would want them to be.

Despite the fear and anxiety of those moments, the two were often happy. They took walks, talked about art, joked with each other, and more than anything else, they read. Listening to Yuri read aloud was Victor's greatest joy. Yuri would memorize a poem sometimes and recite it for the other randomly throughout the day as a special gift. He even wrote his own poems to entertain the other but lied when he was asked about the author.

On one such happy day, Victor and Yuri had planned to leave the house early hike in the dark to a peak where Victor swore you could see all of Russia. The two sat and waited, bundled up in jackets while Makkachin explored nearby. Yuri looked over at his partner. The Russian noticed. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing much. It's so dark. So instead, I'm just imagining."

"Oh really? What do you imagine?"

"I'm imagining that I'm sitting next to a big, scary, Russian, mob boss."

The silver-haired man feigned shock, gasping. "Dear me! You must be terrified!"

Yuri played along with a smile. "I'm nothing short of petrified, in fact. He's stone cold with a soul like iron. You couldn't imagine the type of man he is. Instead of eating cereal and milk for breakfast, he just chews on staples as if they were granola. And at night, he lays stiff on a slab of marble and keeps his eyes wide open."

"Who is this man?"

"The great and treacherous Victor Nikiforov, the patron saint of crime, Russia's personal Satan, the Dealer of Death." Yuri looked out just as the sun broke over the horizon. "Wait a moment, the light's changing…" They waited a few minutes then he looked back at Victor as if he had just transformed from a beast into a prince. He gasped. "I was wrong! It's not Victor Nikiforov at all!"

"Huh? Who is it, then?"

"Why…It's Victor Nikiforov! Oh my goodness! You were sitting in front of me this whole time! How didn't I recognize you!"

The older man laughed lightly. "Is he much better than the former?"

"He's a different person altogether! That other man is cruel, senseless and cold."

"So what's the difference between me and the man you mistook me for?"

"That man…was just an illusion. When someone looks at you from afar or their vision is obscured, they might mistake you for that man. You see, you and that man share the same skin. He has a bad reputation. Before I came to Russia, I had heard all the rumors about him and it scared me. I'll even admit that I mistook you two when I first met you but very soon, my vision cleared and I realized I was wrong. You're not that cold, cruel, mob boss that I thought you were. You're someone else. You're the art-lover who dotes on his pet and who's hair is the same color as starlight-"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Victor cried, hiding his red face in his hands. "It started off so cute and clever but now it's just embarrassing!"

Yuri laughed at his partner. Victor couldn't take sincere flattery. Of course, all his other business partners would try to win his favor by complimenting his power and achievement. He accepted their remarks with a cold smirk. Yuri, on the other hand, was always truthful in his admiration and it unraveled Victor. "Poor Victor." Yuri cooed. "So shy, like a school child with his first crush." He had meant the tease simply as a joke.

"Is it that obvious?" The other groaned, embarrassed.

That caught Yuri off guard. "Is what obvious?"

"That you're my first crush." He answered. Now it was Yuri's turn to blush. "God, I hate getting all flustery like this. It's not very cool, is it?"

Yuri didn't know how to answer. He looked out at the pink sky, his heart jumping in his chest. He was happy. "It's okay, I still think you're cool." He finally answered, smiling wide.

Victor looked up at his partner and smiled. "I'm glad someone does."

"Are you kidding? No one in the world thinks of the name Victor Nikiforov with indifference. You're held in high regards across ever nation."

The older man rolled his eyes but returned the smile anyhow. "What's the good of that? They fear me, they plot my destruction, and they wait for my demise. My place in this world is incredibly momentary, just like a butterfly. I've spent my life trying to become something, something special and important and powerful. Then when I'm finally there, I only have a short time to enjoy what I've accomplished. You see, a butterfly is good for nothing. It consumes its environment and spreads parasites. All it can do is look pretty. It's like that in the crime world too. The drug rings are conscious beings of their own and humans are only workers in them. Do you understand? Bosses come and go, mules come and go, distributors, consumers, victims, they all just come and go. None of them effect the cycle, they only perpetuate it. I'm just as temporary and useless as the rest of them. I came, reeked my havoc, and soon, I'll leave the cycle too." He gestured the shape of a circle spinning round and round.

"What do you mean?"

"I came to be a mob boss when the man before me was taken from his house in the middle of the night by an old enemy and dragged from the back of his car for hours until he died. No one passes away from old age in this line of business. I'm not naïve enough to believe that I'll be an exception. Something will happen. Maybe a rival will destroy me, maybe an enemy will have me removed, maybe my men will turn on me for profit. It could be someone close or someone far, but I've learned not to waste my time worrying…" Victor paused, noticing his nervous pet nudging his elbow with his nose. "Huh?" Realization hit him. He quickly looked over to Yuri who was staring at him wide-eyed and trembling. "Yuri!"

"I-I don't- I don't- I don't- I don't w-want to t-t-t-talk about tha-tha-tha-that." He stuttered, unable to control his rabbit-paced breathing. Victor went to touch his arm but the other man jumped. Victor knew he had to take Yuri somewhere he could calm down. He stood up and offered his hand.

"Can you get up?" He asked. Yuri shook his head violently. His body was frozen shut. Victor picked him up carefully. At first, Yuri resisted but as he was pressed up against the warmth of Victor's body, he began to relax.

Victor carried him home, ignoring the looks of the Russians who sat in the living room dissecting the newspaper. He went straight to his room, put Yuri in his bed, and wrapped the whole comforter around him until he was completely hidden, save his eyes. Victor stood by and watched nervously.

After a minute, Yuri's breathing had returned to a pace normal enough to where he could speak again. "C-come here."

The Russian sat on the bed beside his partner, who crawled out of his comforter cocoon and into his lap. Yuri had not done anything so completely childish before but he needed the proximity. Once Victor got over the surprise, he held the younger protectively. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Don't talk about b-b-being dragged behind a-a-a-a car until y-you die." He said.

"That wasn't me." He clarified.

"It d-doesn't matter! I don't-I don't want to th-think about that kind of thing hap-happening to you."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That was a little much."

"I'm s-scared…"

"Of what?"

"Something bad happening to you…"

"I'm flattered." Victor replied with a chuckle. "Nothing's going to happen. It's just you, me, Fu-Han, Yurio, an Yakov. I trust my men. Do you trust Fu-Han?"

Yuri nodded.

"And I trust you, so I'm sure Fu-Han can't be rotten. See? I'm not scared, you shouldn't be either. There's only good people here."

Victor though he was helping but he was only triggering a relapse. Yuri started shaking again and rocking. Don't trust me, you shouldn't trust me. Yuri thought. It's all my fault. I'm going to be the who betrays you. Don't trust me, please. Please Victor, I'm the rotten one. I'm the worst thing that's ever going to happen to you.

"Calm down, Yuri! Stop it!" Victor cried but the smaller man couldn't hear him. His head pounded so violently loud. He tried to cover his ears but the drumming persisted. Victor pulled his hands away. "Yuri!? Yuri!? Stay with me, come on! Listen to me!" But the younger didn't respond. He tried shaking him but to no avail.

Finally, desperate and helpless, he pressed his lips to Yuri's and kissed gently. Almost immediately, the shaking stopped. There was no movement on the part of the Asian man but Victor persisted, holding his lover in his arms. Slowly, Yuri's arms came up and he held Victor back. The Russian breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's this all about, Yuri?" Victor asked, a strand of helplessness in his voice.

"What's what all about?"

"These panic attacks. What's causing them?"

Yuri shrugged and looked away, ashamed. "I don't know. Different stuff all the time."

"I mean… is it me?"

Yuri shrugged again, refusing to answer.

"Was this normal for you before you came to Russia? I don't remember an of this during your first few days here."

"It…It would sometimes happen when I was younger and I didn't know how to deal with my anxiety. But as I grew up, I learned to conceal it. I thought I had it all under control."

"Is it the stress of the business deal? Because, if it is, you don't have to worry. I'm very willing to negotiate with you. I promise, you'll get a fair and safe deal."

"That's not it."

"Is it the distance from home?"

Yuri didn't answer.

"I get it. You're in a foreign place full of strangers and dangers. I would be nervous too. Far from home, far from family, far from your island… have you… considered maybe going home?" He suggested hesitantly.

That grabbed Yuri's attention. His eyes darted up to Victor's with confusion, indecision, and hurt. "Go home?"

"Only if you want to but… yeah, I think that might be what's best for you. Of course, I want you to stay but not if every day is going to be this hard for you." Just then, the Russians in the living room started calling out for Victor. He got up, sensing emergency in their voices. "Just think about it, okay?"

Victor rushed out to join the others, their voices mingling into an unintelligible hum of Russian. Yuri got off the bed and pressed his ear to the door, concentrating.

"Are you sure you heard, right?" He heard Victor's voice demand.

"Heard? I fuck'n saw it! It's on the fuck'n news, Victor! Danny's in the can, they sacked him this morning. They plastered his face up on the god damn TV for crying out loud!" The youngest rebutted.

Yuri recognized the name instantly. Danny Semenov, a trafficker that he had ratted out yesterday. Danny was just a transporter, not a dealer or a producer but regardless, he had his hands dirty. He trafficked in everything from minerals and drugs to people, the works. Victor had told Yuri about him on a few occasions. Yuri knew that Danny was in Posyet finishing up a deal to move a boat of immigrant women to a company that would transform them into sex workers. Once that deal closed, he was supposed to meet Victor in Penza and take a shipment of sapphire to a client for him. Yuri relayed the information and Danny was nabbed in Posyet.

"Is he talking to police?" Victor asked.

"Why the fuck would I know!? They don't make that shit public but you better hope your sorry ass he doesn't!"

"That little snake! He wouldn't, we've been working together for years!"

"I bet he would. A desperate man does what it takes to survive. When they catch a man like that, a trafficker, the press him for suppliers. They squeeze him dry for names and places." Yakov chimed in.

"Good luck with that! He doesn't know where I live." Yuri could hear Victor's feet pacing back and forth.

"He knows plenty, Victor. He knows your face, your car, your schedule. He knows you're going to be in Penza tomorrow with a bag of rocks the size of a softball." The older reminded him.

"As if I would go there now!" Victor barked. Yuri wished he could tell Victor that he didn't need to worry. They're not coming for you, not yet. They don't want you, you have a few more months of freedom ahead of you.

"That doesn't dismiss the fact that Danny's a god-damn rat!" Yurio retorted. "Or at least he will be when they start whacking him over the head!"

"He's not a rat and, now that I think about it, this is good. This is really good. He must have had a snitch on him. How else would he get caught? He's careful. He keeps his mouth shut and moves in secrecy. There's a rat in the business somewhere." He decided. Yuri's heart quickened.

"There are rats everywhere and frankly, Victor, incidents like this make me apprehensive of having strangers in the home!" The younger countered.

"They're my guests." Yuri could sense a danger in Victor's voice.

"He makes a fair point, Victor." The old man said. "It wasn't your place to bring them into the home by surprise like that without our consent."

"You should have stuck with the plan and dropped them off at the hotel like we had fuck'n agreed! Your little whims aren't cute or endearing, they're dangerous and selfish!"

"It's none of your business why I do the things I do!" Victor snapped back at the younger. "I'm the boss here and you work for me."

"You're endangering all of us when you make haste decisions like this." Yakov added to the argument. "They could be rats."

"They're not!" The man fired back.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am!"

"It's because he's fucking the little Japanese one." Yurio chimed in. There was a moment of silence to follow. "What? I'm only saying what we all know. You saw him at the airport, thought he was cute, and brought him back to be a toy. You're not that hard to understand, Victor. Do you really think I believe that you take him to your room every night just to read Moby Dick? How fuck'n dumb do you think I am?"

"Is that true, Vitya?" The older asked.

"I told you not to call me that…" Victor's voice returned smaller and more hesitant than it had been before. "You're wrong, I didn't bring him here to be a toy. I'm sorry I made a rash decision without consulting you guys but you have the wrong idea about Yuri."

"What is he to you?" Yakov inquired. "I haven't seen you treating your other business partners this way so obviously, you brought him here for a special purpose." Victor didn't respond. "Vitya." He said scoldingly.

"Just for company, I promise."

"We're not good enough company for you, huh?" The teen barked.

"A different kind of company! It's none of your business!"

"He sleeps two doors down from me so, yeah, I think it is my business!" Yurio fired back.

"Dammit, Yurio!" Victor exploded. "If you didn't have your head up your ass all the time, you would see why I like him! He's clever and nice and poetic and if you weren't so threatened by him, you would find that you actually like him! But instead, you sit there on your high horse thinking you're so much better than everyone and that everyone should bow down. Yuri dares to stand with you as an equal and you just can't fuck'n stand it, can you!? You can't stand his confidence because it reminds you that you're weak!"

Yuri couldn't tell what happened next. There was a hitting noise followed by Yakov crying, "Yurio! Boys, stop it!" Some more tussling followed accompanied by vague shouts and curses. Yakov was the next to speak intelligibly, yelling, "Both of you, to your rooms, now!"

"I'm not a god damn kid, old man!"

"Now, Yurio!" He answered sternly. Yuri heard a door slam as loud as thunder. He darted back to the bed just in time for Victor to enter and close his own door noticeably loudly. Half of his face was bright red.

"What's going on out there?" Yuri asked with concern.

"Yurio's being a fuck'n brat, like always." He touched his cheek investigatively and winced. "He punched me."

"Did you… punch him back?"

"What?" The older man looked at Yuri with sincere confusion. "No. Why would I punch him back? He's just a kid." He touched the area again just before Yuri stood up and pulled his hand away.

"Don't touch it." He said gently. They met eyes and held the gaze. "Victor…"

"Yes?"

"I…I heard what you were saying. I wasn't eavesdropping or anything I just- well, it was loud and…I just… I was wondering how you feel…towards me."

"Oh…" The older man suddenly understood what he was asking. "Has enough time passed that it's time to talk about this?"

"I think so… I think we should both have a good understanding of our feelings by now."

Victor nodded. "Do I say it then?" He glanced shyly at the other who nodded back. He took a deep breath. "I want this to be a… relationship. A long thing that doesn't just casually break. I don't want it to be like you go back to Japan and we just chat on the phone every once in a while, or fly out to see each other once a year. I want the kind of relationship where…one of us follows the other and we see each other every night and every morning."

Yuri smiled, deciding it was a good time to tease the other man. "You want me to be a live-in maid? I don't think I'm cut out for the work."

Victor laughed. "Your humor has absolutely the worst timing!"

"Does it really?" He asked with a smirk.

"No, not at all. Perfect timing." Victor guided Yuri's chin up and exchanged a short kiss with him. They parted slowly, both with heavy eyelids and wide smiles.

"I'm serious, I think you'll have to make it a little clearer for me." The younger cooed.

"Yuri, I want to be able to hold hands with you in public. I want to eat your cooking, I want to fold your laundry, I want you to read poetry to me on the porch of our place. I want to roll around in bed with you, I want to kiss you when the sunshine makes a little golden halo in your hair, I want to be able to tell people that you're mine."

"Okay." Yuri agreed but his partner continued, lost in his fantasy.

"I want to do silly, stupid, things that you want to do. I want you to comb my hair. I want to try new teas with you and criticize old movies with you. I want to brush my teeth and see you in the mirror beside me. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and tell you the startling thing I dreamt of."

"Okay, Victor."

"I want to make a nice fire in the fireplace for you when it's cold. I want to bury my nose in your hair and smell your shampoo. I want to hear you sing to yourself as you do chores. I want to know you so well that I can create your shopping list for you."

"Victor." Yuri pressed a finger to the other's lips. "Stop for a second, I need to soak in that last thing so I can remember it forever. I think that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."

The taller man laughed before being pulled down to exchange another slow, loving, kiss. "I love you, too." Yuri whispered, fearlessly throwing in the L-word.

Though Victor was caught off guard, he was soon consumed by effervescent joy. He took his partner's face in his hands and kissed it all over. "You mean it, right? You're serious?"

"This is the most honest I've been in my whole life." He smiled as the kisses continued to tickle his face.

"Then it's official, right? We're in a romantic relationship? You're mine now?"

"That's right." He answered. With anyone else, Yuri would have refused the allow terms of ownership to be used but with Victor, he just smiled and accepted it, glad to be his.