Chapter Text
The black-haired young man currently being tied up in the most fantastic of suspension knots is stunning. Viktor had only been passing through the party tonight, not particularly interested in most of the scenes being performed. People had come up to him — he had a reputation, after all — asking if he wanted to play, but he had turned all of them down.
He’d really only come as a favour to his friend, Christophe, who was looking for a new slave after the last one had moved out of town and decided that making things long-distance wasn’t right for them. Chris had taken it hard, of course, but he’d respected their decision as well. It’d just taken him a couple bottles of wine and a marathon of Friends on Viktor’s couch to recover.
Viktor had never seen much of a point in lifestyle, though. It just seemed exhausting to keep protocol for such extended periods of time. He could never act for that long.
And yet —
Viktor can’t tear his gaze away from the young man in the knots. His scene partner, a darker-skinned young man in a black corset and winged eyeliner so sharp it could probably stab someone, is lightly dragging the tips of his fingernails across his skin, whispering something into his ear. The man’s cock has also been tied, and he gives the most delectable of moans as his partner’s fingers rub against it. The way he flushes against the bright red ropes, the way his body arches into the touch of his partner — it’s perfect. It’s the very image of submission.
Viktor could easily see himself as this man’s Dominant, slipping into the role every morning. Caring for him, guiding him through new experiences, undoing him with the satisfaction that only he can do such things to this man — it’s all there, in the constrained sway of the man’s hips and the way his eyes flash as they flicker through the audience, coming to rest on Viktor.
And yet —
There’s something steely in the glint of this man’s brown eyes as his partner runs a thumb across his lips, something hard and determined in his gaze as his partner begins to work him out of the ropes, intent on tying him into a new position. Viktor feels his own trousers tightening in response, as he watches the scene partner begin to tie him up in a new configuration, his wrists and ankles pressed together. The crowd murmurs appreciatively at the man’s apparent flexibility, but Viktor only watches, spellbound, as the man looks towards him and winks.
After the performance, Viktor goes to find himself some water. He finds the man at the refreshments, his scene partner nowhere to be found. The man is dressed again, in a simple collared shirt and black trousers, unassuming and casual compared to other attendees in their party wear.
“I saw your performance,” Viktor tells him. The man looks up, slightly startled, and then smiles briefly at Viktor.
“I remember,” he agrees.
Viktor holds out a hand. “Viktor Nikiforov.”
“I know,” replies the man as he shakes it. “Yuuri Katsuki.”
“How long have you been involved here?” wonders Viktor as he takes one of the small bottles of water that the host has offered.
Yuuri takes a sip of his own water. “Not long,” he admits. “My friend Phichit — my scene partner? — and I usually do our own thing. Mostly suspension bondage and shibari, though — I find it helps me relax.”
“Really,” says Viktor. “Seems a little stressful, hanging up there.”
“You don’t have time to stress when you’re devising new ways to tie people up,” replies Yuuri. Viktor laughs.
“So most of those forms were your idea?” he wonders.
Yuuri nods. “Phichit’s very conscientious,” he replies. “He’d never do anything out of my limits.”
Viktor hums. “Are you two… together?”
Yuuri shakes his head. “We’re actually roommates.”
Viktor nods, an idea already coalescing in his mind. He might not have come here to play, but… “Would you be interested in a scene with me?” he asks.
Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “A scene?” he echoes.
“Mm, perhaps adding a little acting to your formidable tying skills. I’d love to have you tie me up and have your way with me.”
He can’t help but laugh when he sees the blush creeping across Yuuri’s face at the suggestion. “But… but you’re usually a Dominant,” the man remarks. “You’re one of the best — Phichit and I actually got into all of this because we saw one of your routines on PornHub.”
Viktor laughs. “The one with the St Andrew’s Cross?”
Yuuri nods, his blush deepening. Viktor can’t help it — he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind the man’s ear.
“I saw a spark in you, Yuuri,” he admits. “And everything I’ve gotten from our conversation suggests you have the makings of an excellent Dominant. I’d love to see what you can do.”
“I’ve never — “ Yuuri cuts off, hiding his flaming cheeks behind his hands.
“But you’ve wanted to, haven’t you?”
Yuuri nods. Viktor leans in, lips ghosting along the shell of Yuuri’s ear.
“Let me teach you,” he suggests, and Yuuri trembles in a way that tells Viktor his decision before he even hears it.
“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Viktor grins, and presses a kiss to his hand.