A/N: I know, how unsatisfying, you've waited weeks and there's no smut to be seen. Trust me darlings, it's coming. This should suffice... I mean, I think it's pretty good. But maybe I'm just deluding myself, ne?

Enjoy!

"That was perfect!" Viktor was praising, laughing as the rest of his friends followed him in piling into the limo. "We blew them away tonight, no? I can hardly believe how much better we've gotten." Turning, he glanced back at Yuri, who slowly climbed into the limo, a slightly shellshocked look on his face. "You too Yurio, who knew our little Kitten could be such a tiger when he chose to be~"

"That was really something," Christophe agreed, leaning on JJ's shoulder with a grin. The Canadian simply rolled his eyes at the other man's antics. "You were selling that dark, wild vibe Yurio, I didn't realize you had it in you." Wiggling his eyebrows, he teasingly asked, "Thinking of anyone in particular~"

Yuri simply glanced at him with something caught between a blank expression and a glare. Numbly, he flipped the Swissman off. It was about all he could do, considering.

Holy shiiiiittttt… His mind was still reeling and he hadn't been able to figure out if that was a good thing or not. It's one thing to eye-fuck a stranger, it's another thing to be asked about it later. Because that's what it had been, Yuri wasn't an idiot. Who was he? He hadn't seemed interested in the show, just Yuri. Just me…

"Come on Yuri," JJ said, laughing. "Are you just going to ignore us? You look like you swallowed an egg." Forcing himself out of his daze, Yuri glared at the Canadian man for real, the eye makeup he still had on adding to the effect. Tipping his head back over the seat, JJ guffawed. "Now you see, that's the expression we're used to."

Leaning over the seat towards were Yuri sat, literally as far away from the other idiots as possible, Viktor gave him a mournful look. "Aren't you at least a little bit proud of that performance Yurio? You certainly gave the fans something to scream about tonight~"

"The sunglasses trick was certainly something," JJ agreed enthusiastically. "I'd say do it again but I like this being a one time thing. Oh!" He bounced in his seat, disrupting Christophe's perch. "You should leave them off for the rest of the tour, since you threw them away, right?" He grinned, as if this were the most genius idea yet.

Christophe hummed and tilted his head. "He has a point, it would be interesting, no? Give them something to squeal over."

"I mean," JJ continued, pulling out his phone and displaying it to the other band members eagerly. "It's already all over Twitter, everyone's talking about it." Scrolling through the ever increasing number of tweets, he showed that indeed all of them were obsessing over the performance and more specifically, Yuri's careless actions. God, I really need to never do that again.

With a groan, Yuri snapped, "Who gives a shit! It was impulsive, I'm not repeating it." Heh, because that stranger won't be there to catch them, right? Furious with himself and struggling not to let that heady feeling of being able to capture someone's attention to that degree creep back into his mind, Yuri crossed his arms and glared out the limo window.

"Yurio!" Viktor exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth, his eyes dancing behind his own sunglasses, ones he still hadn't bothered to take off. "Are you embarrassed Kitten?" He sounded far to delighted about this. Lunging towards him, Viktor threw his arms around the boy, who instantly started struggling to get away. "You're so cute!"

Shoving the man off, Yuri squawked, "Get off of me you featherbrained idiot, you're disgusting!" Viktor just laughed, knowing, or at least assuming, that somewhere underneath all that disgruntled behavior, Yuri didn't actually despise him. "I am not cute!"

When the other three only laughed, Yuri simply huffed and glared at the window again. "Whatever, I'm tired of this. Let's go back to the hotel." He was ready to get out of the stupid outfit he was wearing. None of them had bothered to change after the show -though the others had been smart enough to get rid of their makeup- they had been too busy meeting fans and generally being assaulted by their overblown obsession.

Yuri, who usually allowed himself to be squealed over and adored by the throngs of people who came to watch them, had been distracted and irritable. The one person he'd been hoping to see, a certain tall, dark haired man, had been missing from the scene entirely. It shouldn't have thrown him so much but Yuri was still irritated. Spends an entire show undressing me with his eyes and then he just fucking vanishes, figures.

All he really wanted was a shower and maybe some food, that would be great.

Unfortunately, Christophe interjected, ruining Yuri's hopes of simply just getting out of there and forgetting the entire night entirely. Not that I can, fucking hell, that was not what I was expecting. "Not so fast, I thought we had an agreement about where we'd end up tonight~" Running a hand through his sandy blond hair, he grinned. "I recall getting drunk being in the agenda Nikiforov, was I being lied to?"

"No, we are getting wasted tonight," JJ said, looking pointedly at Viktor. "There is no other option. It's a tradition, we can't screw it up."

"It's not a tradition if we've only done it once!" Yuri argued, hoping that they'd just forget about it before-

"YES! WE MUST!" Shit… Viktor clapped his hands together like a child, not a twenty three year old whose face was quite possibly one of the most well known in Europe as of that year. Typical idiot, I hate it when he does stuff like this. "It is, after all, the most fun part."

"Then it's decided," Christophe said, clapping his hands together, a delighted look in his bright green eyes. "We're off to the bar!"

God, one more minute and I'll go crazy. Currently, Yuri sat in the middle of a throng of people, all of them laughing and drinking and gushing about the band. Viktor had several pretty girls hanging off of him, JJ was laughing with someone about something he couldn't pick up on and Christophe was flirting with a guy who looked like a male model. Fuck, I'm so sick of this shit. Glaring down at his glass, which was half full of whisky, Yuri grunted in irritation. This isn't helping.

With every bit of alcohol he consumed, Yuri felt another bit of tension build in his gut. He needed to let it out but all he could think of was the stranger from their performance and then he was left back at square one. Pushing his blond hair out of his eyes, Yuri glared at Viktor, who merely perked up and winked at him, a delighted look on his face.

Idiot, why are we even doing this? They were at a rather mediocre place, all things being honest. Probably, it was because the rest of the band liked to go places their fans could conceivably meet them at. Whereas Yuri would have rather avoided the paparazzi like the plague, the others seemed to enjoy the attention immensely. Especially JJ and Viktor, who seemed to feed off the energy like parasites.

Scoffing, Yuri stared back down at his drink. He wasn't even drunk yet, which would have made the night at least partially bearable. Hell, he was just barely tipsy. With a growl, Yuri shoved the remaining whiskey away from himself in irritation. Usually he'd be able to at least sort of enjoy himself, tonight though, his mind was moving too fast for this.

All I really want, Yuri thought, staring around the room for something to alleviate his boredom. Is to know who that man was. With his devastating stare and his taunting expression… Yuri had been enthralled, now he felt irritably empty, needing something but not allowed to have it. I wanted that man, but I'll never see him again so what does it matter.

Staring back at his friends, Yuri sunk his nails into the palm of his right hand and muttered under his breath, "Fucking idiots." That's what they were, he wasn't about to be kind over the matter. Besides, over the thumping music, they couldn't even hear him..

Shit, this is going to make my head start hurting… Growing more and more antsy by the second, Yuri stared towards the door. He shouldn't leave, it would mean figuring out transportation back to the hotel alone and he didn't even want to go back anymore. All he wanted was to get peacefully drunk without having a random girl (and more than one guy) try to hit on him every few minutes.

He felt this was a perfectly good reason to ditch his friends.

But what really was the straw that broke the camel's back was when the song Forget to Forget started playing over the sound system in the bar. Making a sound of disgust as the sounds of Viktor singing filtered through the speakers, Yuri slid off the chair and started for the door. He didn't care if the others were left wondering where he was, he just needed to get out and have some time alone to think.

The moment the cool Barcelona air hit his face, Yuri was able to take a deep breath. That place hadn't been good for him, with all the people and the thoughts swirling in his head. Here, at least he could think clearly. Without Viktor and the others annoying him, without thoughts of the stranger- Oh fuck, nevermind.

Now that his mind was filled with silence, the memories of what had happened hit him and he groaned. It just makes too much sense that the first person I actually find attractive is some mysterious stranger in the crowd of one of my shows. It was so fitting and yet it pissed him off because he was twenty and dammit he was tired of being looked at as the pure little fairy of the band. This is just pathetic, I can't believe I'm thinking about things like this.

Walking briskly down the dark street, Yuri pulled out his phone and quickly looked up another bar, one that was a little more classy and a lot less crowded. It didn't take long to find, even better, it wasn't that far away. Crossing his arms and wishing once more that he'd thought to change, Yuri ducked his head and started for the other bar.

By the time he'd gotten there, he was really ready for another drink. He was only tipsy but if he had anything to say about that, it would quickly change. As he waltzed through the doors with all the grace and allure he usually carried himself with, Yuri settled at a stool at the bar and snapped his fingers and looked pointedly towards the bartender.

Giving Yuri's frankly ridiculous makeup a once over, the bartender greeted and asked, "What'll it be?"

Running thin fingers through his blond hair, leaving it a mess, Yuri muttered, "Something strong, I don't give a fuck." His crude language didn't quite match the establishment, but he could care less. Glaring at the table, Yuri silently wished the people around him would stop staring at him. He didn't want to be noticed, he didn't need his own paparazzi after him.

Staring at the drink that thumped against the table in front of him, Yuri downed the alcohol within in several large swallows before letting the glass clatter back to the counter. He just wanted to get drunk, he just wanted to stop thinking about the attractive stranger from earlier. But the alcohol only seemed to be making the situation worse as his imagination began to run away from him. Hands, slipping over skin, nails, clawing at toned arms, eyes, full of enough power to kill…

Ah fuck, I'm only going to see him once. I have to get a grip.

With a sigh, Yuri held his glass up and waited for the bartender to come over and refill his cup. Whatever, I'll get over it. I'm just not used to this yet. Sometimes, he wondered if he'd just skipped the usual hormonal teenager phase, it was times like this where Yuri felt like he'd only prolonged the inevitable.

It doesn't matter. It's nothing I can't han..d...le….

His thoughts stuttered to an abrupt stop as he looked across the bar and his eyes met a familiar, dark gaze. Wait, what the fuck!? It was the stranger from earlier. Yuri felt himself unable to look away as the man lifted his own glass to his lips and took a very slow sip. In this light, he could see the man better. His complexion spoke faintly of Arabia but Yuri had spent too much time in Russia to miss the other clear influences of his features. His hair was dark, short, undercut and ruffled, like he'd run his fingers through it recently. But it was the smoldering intensity of his gaze that drew Yuri in like a riptide.

Spending a moment just trying to catch the breath he'd just lost, Yuri caught sight of his sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket of the man's leather jacket and instantly all he'd felt on stage came flooding back to fill his bones. All the latent desire, the heated looks and the daring way he had taunted the man. Already halfway drunk like he was, Yuri was having a hard time telling himself that he didn't like the way he was being watched, like the rest of the world was simply an inconvenience.

So do it, go be the only thing he ever wants to see.

Unable to resist that small voice in the back of his head, the blond slipped off his barstool and slowly, sexually even, waltzed up towards where the man was sitting. Suddenly he was glad that he'd kept the tight pants and ripped tank top on, they complimented the feeling churning in his gut very well. That's it, stare at me. Letting that drunk part of him take over, Yuri easily slid into the seat beside the man so he could stare into the man's eyes.

Dark dark brown, almost black. Fucking hot…

Without out any preamble, Yuri said, "You."

Expression unchanging, the man tilted his head back a fraction of an inch before saying, "You."

Feeling his heart rate kick up another notch, Yuri lowered his eyes and said, "You were staring at me." He wasn't sure why he brought it up, but he felt like it was important.

"You were staring back," the man pointed out, before his lips twitched into a small smirk. "And you seemed to like it." Fuck, his voice~ I must be more drunk than I thought.

"But why were you doing it?" Yuri challenged, eyes flickering over the toned arms and the strong jaw. This was what he most wanted to know, the only rational question he could muster. Because while he'd enjoyed being watched, he needed to know the motivations behind it. Is he just fucking with me or what?

The smirk grew, touched his eyes and left him looking so damn tempting that it was all Yuri could do to keep himself still. I'm turning into a monster. "Because you looked intoxicating," he said, the accent in his voice adding something to the words that made Yuri shiver. "And you still do."

Oh fuck me…

Literally.

But that wasn't the right answer, even his inebriated mind knew this. So instead he tilted his chin up and cockily said, "I know that." The man chuckled, clearly amused by his answer. Emboldened, Yuri shifted forward, liking the fact that he was in sole possession of this man's attention. "So are you going to give me your name?"

The man's eyes swept over him once more, again with that breathtaking intensity, before he cocked an eyebrow. "Otabek. And you need no introduction," the man continued, staring at Yuri like he wanted nothing more than to take him apart. "Yuri."

At the sound of his name rolling off Otabek's tongue, Yuri purred softly. He makes it sound erotic, fuck, how does he make it sound like that? It's a fucking name.

Before he could figure this out, or possibly say it out loud, the bartender passed by and Otabek beckoned him over with all the airs of someone who was used to having people listen to him. But unlike some people on whom that would appear conceited, on this man it just added to the power that seemed to Yuri's drunk mind to emanate off of him in waves. "Another drink," he said, voice low and clear. "And whatever he wants."

Which was as good as an invitation to stay in Yuri's mind.

Actually, if he was being completely honest with himself and the usual implications of buying someone a drink, it probably meant a whole lot more.

Calling out his own order to the bartender, something hard enough to tip him from simply intoxicated into fully drunk, Yuri caught the look Otabek was giving him. It wasn't exactly subtle, the way his eyes dragged over Yuri's body, lingering in all the right places for just that right amount of too long before continuing to undress him mentally. Almost more drunk off the attention than the actual alcohol, Yuri taunted, "What? Didn't get enough of me earlier?"

Otabek's eyes met his and fuck he wasn't even pretending to be ashamed of being caught, he just said, "No," as if it had been a serious question demanding a serious answer. When the man reached out, Yuri couldn't even begin to summon the wherewithal to attempt to disguise the shiver that ran through him as Otabek brushed a lock of Yuri's hair out of his face. The way he got closer didn't help either. "But then, that would be very hard to do."

Even though Yuri would have sworn up and down that it was a flirtatious statement, it didn't sound like it at all. The way Otabek said it, it sounded like a fact he was just stating. Somehow, he found that so much more preferable. Everyone lavishes me with compliments, he says it like it's not even up for debate. "I wonder what it would take to make you tired of me," Yuri wondered aloud, tipping his head up.

With a dark rumble of mirth, Otabek's finger twitched under Yuri's chin. The blond's breath shortened as Otabek leaned in closer and murmured, "That sounded like an invitation Yuri~" That name, on his lips, sinful.

Though it made his heart rate kick up another notch, Yuri managed to breathe, "Maybe it was." Otabek's lips curled up in what was possibly the most arousing smirk ever. It animated his dark eyes and it promised something so debauched yet so so good that the risk was clearly worth it. The fire that it sent racing through the blond left his already constrictive pants feeling uncomfortable tight. Holy mother of all that is good in the world, I want this man. What is going on?

Then the bartender slapped their drinks against the counter, breaking the spell over them for a moment while doing nothing to dispel the thrumming tension. I'm actually going to do this, aren't I? The thought left him excited, yet undeniably nervous. Needing to quell that feeling, Yuri grabbed for his drink and downed half of it at once. It burned going down but he relished the feeling all the same. If I wasn't so inexperienced… But he was, so he'd just have to fake it because there was no way in hell he was going to tell Otabek he had no idea what he was doing.

I know how to handle myself.

The look Otabek gave him at that moment made Yuri feel like the man could see right through him. "So how did you end up in a place like this?" he asked, as if this was an entirely normal conversation. There was nothing on Otabek's face to give Yuri a hint as to what this question was pointing towards, so he answered, biting his lip slightly as he did so.

"Nikiforov and the others were annoying." His bottom lip slipped from between his teeth and he sighed, shifting in his seat. "I wasn't interested in dealing with them." Should I say it? Fuck, am I being too forward? Too annoying? Yuri forced himself to focus on the glass between his slender fingers as he added, "I had other things on my mind."

Another laugh. Though he blamed it entirely on the alcohol, Yuri's cheeks flushed at that dark and promising sound. "Honestly," Otabek commented, his own hands curled around the sturdy glass of his own drink. "That was the idea. It was only fair, after how distracted you left me."

Heart leaping, Yuri fought to keep his expression tamed. Fuck, how can he say things like that without batting an eye? "Oh?" he asked, finishing up the last of his drink before looking up at Otabek. Hardly even thinking, he shifted forward, closer to the magnetic presence that just kept dragging him in. "And what were you thinking about?"

Again Yuri found himself caught in an intesne stare that wouldn't let him go. "You," Otabek stated, the word sending shivers down the blond's spine. "About the way you moved, about the way you played, about the way your very presence dared me to keep watching." Yuri couldn't even begin to draw breath as the words slipped from the man's mouth. The air seemed to thicken, heat till it was almost unbearable, yet all he wanted to do was close that infuriating distance between them.

What is he doing to me? How is he doing this to me?

"So tell me Yuri," Otabek's fingers lifted again and with all the deliberateness that seemed to fill everything this man did, he dragged the calloused pad of his thumb over Yuri's bottom lip before tilting his chin up. "What did you mean when you stared at me like that?"

Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

And though he would have never said the words sober, couldn't believe he was saying them now, especially in the low purr he uttered them with, Yuri narrowed his eyes daringly and told the dark man, "I wanted you to take me apart." Then, because he couldn't help it, Yuri's mouth turned up in a smirk of his own. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Do you really want to know?" Otabek rumbled, each word marking another inch of space that seemed to vanish from between them. Yuri's entire body thrummed with desire and all Otabek seemed to do was make it worse. Fuck, what does he think he's doing, teasing me like this?

Otabek leaned in, close enough that his lips almost brushed Yuri's ear. "I want to pin you underneath me and tease you till you're begging for me. I want to make you scream my name till it hurts to sing. I want to watch that perfect face as you lose control entirely. So Yuri," that heady voice breathed. "What do you want?"

As all the blood in his body rushed south, Yuri all but groaned, "You."

A/N: Cliffhanger is cruel, obvious statement is obvious.

Come on, now I've just left you begging for the next chapter, right? *Laughs at myself* ah, I love pretending like I have readers who care about my shitty ass writing~!