Author's note: Lately, I've been seeing tons of hilarious posts on tumblr about vampires vs. millennials and how the "tricks of the trade" they've developed over the years are failing and I couldn't resist writing this. I just loved the idea of Victor being stuck in a never-ending loop of failures when all he wants to do is seduce someone.

As I'm originally from the Detroit area (technically a suburb, but it counts) I tried to keep this as accurate to the city as I could in terms of the layout. Wayne State University is the largest college in the city, so I'm assuming that's where Yuuri and Phichit went while they were training in Detroit. I did some research on the apartments that have a contract with WSU as far as dorms/fees per semester and I envisioned Yuuri and Phichit living in a place like the University Towers. Of course, they'd have the two bedroom apartment!

I'd also like to note that St. Petersburg was founded in 1703 as the capital of the Russian Empire, though it ceased to be capital after the Russian Revolution of 1917, so the time frame for when Victor was turned works.

I have no idea how long this fic will be or how regularly I'll be able to update it, but I hope you enjoy it!

As always, a big thank you to spicenee for beta'ing this for me!

For hundreds of years, Victor Nikiforov roamed the world indulging in anything and everything he wanted. He witnessed the rise and fall of political empires, the beginnings and conclusions of world wars, and the height and wane of epidemics. Even with all of this excitement, he found himself growing bored quickly.

He would settle in one place, typically larger cities or their surrounding suburbs, for a decade or two and when he tired of it, he packed up his things and moved on. For the past fifty years or so, he had decided to make his way through the United States, the one country he hadn't been to in all his years of immortality. Some towns were better than others; some were more welcoming while some of the smaller towns were much more suspicious of him. He usually didn't stay long in those towns.

You see, Victor Nikiforov was a vampire. He had been turned in the early 1700's, though he barely remembered his creator or the circumstances behind it. All he knew is that on the eve of his 27th birthday, he found himself waking up in an alley of the newly founded capital St. Petersburg. For a time he had believed that he had simply fallen ill after one too many drinks with his friends, but soon the thirst set in. It was then that his creator had approached him and taught him more or less how to be a vampire. Once he had been able to curb his thirst and master his powers to a satisfactory degree, he had been set loose to wreak havoc on the world.

Except, Victor had no desire to do anything of the sort.

He finally had the freedom to do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted! He worked odd night jobs here and there – usually as a bartender, given the late hours and easy selection of victims should the need arise – and over the past hundred years or so, had amassed a small fortune that enabled him to travel wherever his fancy took him.

Since he landed in the United States in the early 1950's and much of the women tended to stay home and care for the children while their husbands worked, he had come up with a brilliant plan: play the role of a door-to-door salesman. Sure, it was cheesy, but when he dropped his pen and it just happened to roll across the threshold, that was his in. The moment he thanked the naive woman standing in front of him for returning his pen and she replied "you're welcome", well...that was it. It was a done deal.

Admittedly, the plan hadn't aged as well as he had hoped with the advancements of technology, but he found that generally, folks were fairly polite so it had continued to do well enough for his needs.

Most recently, he had settled in Detroit, Michigan on his trek from state to state. He admired the architecture and the nightlife of the city. It was a nice change from his usual hunting grounds of the suburbs and with everything being posted to social media as of late, it gave him just that little extra anonymity he needed. Typically, he'd find his mark and track them for a time – a few days to a week at most – in order to learn their schedule, who would be home at twilight, and whether or not they had any nosy neighbors.

It was sometime in early spring when Victor had found his next mark: an adorable Japanese man he saw one evening on campus at Wayne State University. Victor watched him through the window of the coffee shop located on campus as he jogged up to what he assumed was his friend. His eyes narrowed as he focused his attention on his target. The young man was rubbing the back of his neck and laughing while his friend scolded him about something. A bead of sweat dislodged itself from his temple and ran down his cheek, stopping at the junction of his jawline and neck.

Just above his pulsing jugular, the pulse rapid due to his exertion.

Victor licked his lips in anticipation.

"He'll do nicely," he murmured. He sipped his latte as the Japanese man was dragged along by his friend as they ran to catch the last bus leaving campus that evening.

A week had passed since Victor decided on his next target and he felt as though he had mapped out the man's schedule adequately. He found out that the man and his friend shared a small apartment located on the western side of campus, near the medical college. He grew frustrated when he found that the two men usually returned to their apartment together and neither of them left once they were home for the evening. Victor had grown accustomed to being able to single out his targets, approaching them while they were home alone with little chance of a witness, so his nerves were becoming increasingly on edge.

He was about to give up and find another target, but the more he surveyed the Japanese man, the more intrigued he had become. What did his blood taste like? Would it be as saccharin sweet as he fantasized it would be? What sort of noises would the man make as he was overcome with pleasure as Victor had his way with him?

Victor had to find out. It was more for his own sanity than anything else at this point.

Eventually, he couldn't wait any longer. It was Saturday night and Victor watched as many of the occupants of the apartment building left for the evening, either for evening classes or going out with friends. While he hadn't seen the Japanese man's friend leaving since they had returned home, he threw caution to the wind and approached the building. Victor silently thanked whichever force in the universe had made humans so gullible as he coerced two young women to let him inside the building on the premise that he couldn't remember the key code to enter the building.

Through his surveillance, Victor had discovered that the Japanese man lived on the third floor of the building, his apartment facing the street. It had been fairly easy for Victor to figure out that he lived in the last apartment on the left. As he walked down the hallway, he mentally recited his sales pitch. He knew he really didn't need to – it was the same pitch he had been using for decades – but for some reason he felt nervous approaching the doorway.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Victor ran his fingers through his silver fringe and straightened out his jacket before knocking on the door. A moment passed and he heard the soft padding of feet approaching the door and the soft sound of a voice calling out to someone in the background. Victor closed his eyes and prayed that it was his intended target; while his friend was cute, he had his eyes set on the Japanese man.

The door cracked open and Victor sighed with relief as a pair of brown eyes tentatively met his, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"C-can I help you?" asked the man shyly. He kept his grip on the door frame, his body tense as his gaze quickly took in the man standing before him.

"Hello there," replied Victor easily. He smiled gently at the man and was pleased to see that he relaxed underneath his gaze. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, but I was hoping you could help me with something."

The man's brow furrowed again as he contemplated Victor's words. Finally, he swallowed thickly before replying, "What do you need help with?"

Victor tried to ignore how the man's Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed or how pink his lips looked when he absentmindedly chewed on his lower lip. "This is going to sound incredibly stupid –" he chuckled as he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from his bag. " - but I was hoping I might be able to interest you in attending a seminar about time shares and vacation packages."

"Time shares?" The man sounded skeptical, but he hadn't slammed the door in Victor's face yet.

"Yes, time shares. I know the notion is antiquated, but if you'd give me just a few minutes of your time and hear me out, I'll make it worth your while." He flashed a small smile, his silver hair falling in his face and obscuring the left half of his face.

The man before him fidgeted as he debated whether he should or not, but finally he agreed to listen to Victor's sales pitch. Victor beamed and launched into his well-practiced pitch, though if he were truthful, he had no idea why anyone would ever sign up for a time share. They were a terrible idea, but if there was one thing he had learned throughout the years, it was that humans desired to travel the world no matter how poor they were.

"And that's pretty much it," stated Victor. He had been true to his word and kept his pitch to only a few minutes, much to the relief of the man standing before him. "Now, I know you probably want nothing to do with coming to the seminar..."

The man chuckled, and Victor found himself staring at how his pink lips curved upwards so perfectly and his eyes crinkled just a little bit around the edges. "No, not really," he admitted.

"Ah, I thought so," sighed Victor, feigning disappointment. "But if I could get you to do one last favor and fill out this quick survey for me so that my boss doesn't chew me out again, I would really appreciate it."

The man smiled at him and opened the door just enough so that Victor could see his entire frame up close. He handed his clipboard and pen to the man, their fingers brushing at the exchange and Victor felt his heart leap at the contact. While the man bent his head over the clipboard, Victor swallowed hard at the sight of the pen cap balancing precariously between his plump lips. He let his eyes roam over the rest of his form and was pleased to see that though his frame was slight, he was in good shape with defined muscles despite the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants he currently wore.

"Here you go."

Victor was brought out of his trance when he realized that the man was trying to hand back his clipboard. He took the forms from him with shaky hands and as he went to pluck the pen from his outstretched hand – the one that had just been held in his mouth – he dropped it.

In actuality, Victor had legitimately dropped the pen in his shaken state but it was ultimately part of the plan so he wasn't about to split hairs. His gaze followed the pen as it rolled across the threshold, coming to a stop as it bumped against the man's bare feet. He felt his cheeks flush when the man knelt down to pick it up and offered it to him, his lips curved into a welcoming smile.

"Thank you, Mister..." He glanced at the form for a moment. "Katsuki."

"Sure, no problem! Hey man, good luck with your boss. He sounds like a nightmare."

And with that, Victor watched as Yuuri Katsuki waved farewell and quietly shut the door in his face. Victor continued to stare at the door in shock, his pen slipping from his grasp and rolling away.

That was not how this was supposed to work.

Glancing at the clipboard in his hand, Victor's gaze hardened. He would take this Yuuri Katsuki's blood if it was the last thing he did.