Chapter Text
For the most part, Yuuri Katsuki loved being a cop. It hadn’t exactly been his life plan - okay, to be fair, he’d never really had a life plan – to end up an OPP officer, but the job suited him. While making the move to Detroit from Japan for university it had been challenging, and years later somehow ending up in Canada of all places had been a surprising twist, Yuuri couldn’t say that he was disappointed in how his life turned out. He liked the small town he worked in that hardly had any crime and he liked the Canadian legal system the few times he had to actually use it. Most of the time his job consisted of showing up, flashing his badge and telling people to relax. To which usually they would reply, “Yeah, you’re right Yuuri. So’d you catch the game last night?”
Being a small town cop also had some pretty memorable cases. Like crashing the annual high school bush bash, where their usual reaction to his almost timeable appearance was to just offer him a drink, which if you ask him, he definitely refused because professionalism, but if you ask any student who was at any of the five parties he’d crashed, Officer Katsuki can do an impressive keg stand.
But even with these simple pleasures, Yuuri couldn’t deny that there was something missing in his life. He usually threw himself into work to distract himself from the emptiness he sometimes felt which is how he ended up working yet another overnight shift. It wasn’t that surprising, but since their town had a total of two officers and very little crime, for the most part they could work during the day and just be on call overnight.
Yuuri had gone home that night, but being completely bored and unable to sleep, he simply put on his uniform, took the keys for his cruiser and starting patrolling… or something. Really he was just looking for a distraction. Which he found when he saw someone stumbling down Main St. at 2:00 am. He pulled over the cruiser and got out of the car to see if the man was alright.
“Hey, you okay there?” Yuuri asked.
The first thing that struck him was that the man, when he turned around, was absolutely gorgeous. In a makes-you-weak-at-the-knees, forget-every-Canadian-law kind of way. The second thing that struck him was that he didn’t know this man at all, which was an odd occurrence in a small town with little to no tourism.
“Oui! Ca va bien! Comment ca va?” The man responded in French, loudly. Dammit. In all admittance, Yuuri, while working on the whole French thing (since he legally was supposed to know it) wasn’t really that great at it yet.
“Ah… Je m’appelle, no wait, um Je suis…. Uh…” Yuuri started to answer before realizing that instead of answering the question ‘how are you?’ he was saying ‘my name is’. He froze. The man in front of him was definitely a little (okay, a lot) drunk, and slurred French was not going to be easy to translate.
“Oh! English?” The man asked, clearly seeing Yuuri struggling.
“Please.” Yuuri answered, taking a breath before asking, “Sir, would you mind telling me your name?”
“You don’t knooooooow?” Yuuri must have looked confused because the man laughed so loudly he lost his balance, stepping closer to Yuuri to regain it. He had a thick accent that Yuuri hadn’t yet quite been able to place.
“I’m afraid not, sir. Could you please just answer the question?” Yuuri responded, blushing at the sudden closeness of the other-worldly attractive man.
“I’m Victor Nikiforov!” He declared like it was momentous announcement. After a moment’s consideration he added, “But you… you can call me Vitya.”
“Okay…” Yuuri said, “Well, what do you do for a living, Mr. Nikiforov?”
“I said call me Vitya”
“Okay, what do you do for a living Vitya?”
Victor’s face lit up on the nickname, but then his brow furrowed again and he asked, “You mean you’re not just being a tease? You don’t know who I am? Ну ебать меня!” He laughed again. Yuuri decided he quite liked Victor’s laugh. Victor stepped closer to Yuuri and lowered his voice, “I’m Victor Nikiforov.”
“We’ve established that. Why are you here?” Yuuri asked, deciding to move on from a question he was not going to get the answer to.
“Because a cute police officer pulled me over?"
“I can’t pull over someone who isn’t in a car, sir.”
“Oh shit, you’re right. You’ve got to be, like, the smartest person ever,” Victor reached out to put his arm around Yuuri, but Yuuri side stepped out of his reach sending Victor to the ground. Yuuri looked down over top of the giggling man lying in the snow, but he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face.
“I meant why are you in Canada?”
“Competition! I won gold, are you impressed, officer?” Victor giggled again, “Maybe you could kiss my medal?"
“I’m afraid I can’t while I’m on duty.” Yuuri answered, trying to fight the blush that had risen in his already red cheeks. It’s got to be from the cold, he thought, nothing else. As though he suddenly remembered he was an officer of the law, he asked, “Can I see some ID?”
“Sure,” Victor hiccupped while he struggled to stand up. Yuuri didn’t touch him, even though he wanted to. “But you won’t be able to read it.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a wallet that he starred at intently before pulling out a plastic card and handing it to Yuuri. Yuuri examined the card and suddenly the accent and the name clicked.
“Oh, you’re Russian!” Yuuri said looking up, “I’ve always wanted to visit- OH MY GOD!”
“Da?”
“Sir, put your clothes back on!” Yuuri was trying to look anywhere but the toned, shirtless man that was now standing in front of him.
“But I’m hot,” Victor whined.
“It’s -20ºC!” Yuuri's voice was higher that usual. A lot higher than usual.
“And I’m Russian,” He said, “We’ve developed some very good ways to keep warm. If you’re cold, I could teach you some?” Victor honest-to-god winked at Yuuri. Or tried to at least. It was more an awkward blink. Yuuri just stared at him.
“Put your shirt on, that's an order not a request." Victor raised his eyebrows, but did as he was told. Yuuri pushed on, "Do you have anywhere to go to sleep this off?”
“Uhm… No? Your place maybe?” Victor laughed as he shrugged his coat back on. Yuuri sighed and reached into his belt. He couldn't leave him wandering around drunk in the middle of winter.
“Victor Nikiforov, please put your hands behind your back. I’m placing you under arrest for public intoxication,” Yuuri started, pulling out the silver handcuffs which Victor just stared at with a smirk on his face, “You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.”
“Kinky,” Victor said simply, then turned around so Yuuri could handcuff him.