Monochromatic Canvases

Rosewood.

Coral.

Rouge.

Blush.

He knew their names but never met their love.

He knew his talent more so paid by compliments rather than the dollar.

He knew the lights. He knew the darks.

He saw, but could only wish see.

Tonight to hope, it had been a far-fetched dream to even be invited to such an affair. But there he stood in a suit, paying little mind -as much as he could- how underdressed he still felt. This was a chance. This was the first night in St. Petersburg he wasn't going to squander.

Indigo.

Crimson.

Chocolate.

Gold.

He knew their vividness but felt failing to save their life.

He knew his talent more so paid by collectors than the those who appreciated for its own sake.

He knew the rainbow. He knew the strokes.

He saw, but could only wish for inspiration.

There to pose, it had become just another event. Another year. Another evening attending the prestigious gallery's high-class affair to meet expectations, to the very least as his reputable name had required.

Blue eyes turned away from his set of pieces to look over his shoulder and up to the clock across the way on an adjacent wall. His composed face faltered slightly, twenty minutes in and already bored. With a slight shake of his head of fair skin and silver hair, he put his right hand in his pocket and pivoted to his left to go wander through the gallery, figuring he'd go mingle later, perform the usual.

Brown eyes glanced away from his set of pieces to look side to side, reading the room. He knew the event had just started but he didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to begin. Was he to stand by his pieces in case someone had a question? Was he to grab a glass from one of the circulating waiters to hob-nob in the central area where more so the party resumed? Leave his fate to the auctioneer? Seek patrons? Questions of the like left him too anxious to stand still. When his precious hands started to tremble he hid them both deep into his pockets.

There were your landscapes to your portraits and your abstracts to your realism. Blue eyes had seen them all as he made short work of what there was to see in the north hall of the gallery before turning to his left to go down the left wing where newcomers' work had been reserved to show.

An eclectic collection had covered the hall the first timer had anxiously remained. Behind blue-rimmed glasses, he wished he could see what others saw as he witnessed those around him gasp or look so impressed.

'Maybe...' He thought. 'I'm way over my league after-'

Warm gray on next-to-white gray on medium gray, complete with large, steady, dark gray eyes, this was what his brown eyes saw, the very moment he alone gracefully entered the aspiring artists' wing.

'Wait…is that him?' The timid onlooker could hardly believe it and yet he couldn't help but watch him, how the individual was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit and mannerly carried himself as if this was all routine.

'I can't believe it…I didn't think he'd even bother to come to this side of the-'

The first-timer suddenly felt his heart leap in his chest in surprise when the elegant man had halted in the middle of what he was doing with a double take, looking straight at a piece in his direction.

The young artist immediately averted his gaze. 'Ah! Hope he didn't see me staring…'

Celestial bodies.

Nudes of dancers.

Close-ups of exotic flowers.

Blue eyes widened in awe as he came closer.

Seven pieces in total. Each a variety of only pinks but every subject popped off the canvas is if all colors were used. Each piece was as believable as realism itself, each tempting to touch to see if it was actually there.

"H-Hello."

He adjusted his glasses as he spoke nervously, hoping he hadn't disrupted anything, however, those inquisitive eyes didn't leave their study of his work.

"Hi, do you know who painted these?"

Tan hands rung anxiously inside his pockets. "Ano…that would be me..."

He turned his head to the side to see confused, brown eyes looking back up. A beautiful honey-brown paired with combed back raven hair. 'I wish I had a pencil right about now…damn.'

For the first time in a long time, an urge to sketch hit the taller man like a train.

"Yuri Katsuki, da?" He asked to confirm the name he had read beside the paintings.

The only and only pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hai- Yes."

"Victor Nikiforov."

The Japanese returned the handshake. "Y-Yes, pleasure to meet you. "

'A~aah!' All the alarms were ringing in Yuri's head as the voice of reason wrangled the fan boy back under control when he let go.

"Is this your first time in Russia?" Victor asked casually. "There were a number of international artists invited this year."

Yuri nodded. "Y-Yes. First time going fancy too I'm afraid," he nearly blurted. 'Ugh, he didn't need to know that!'

Victor, however, smiled nonetheless and stepped around Yuri to make way for others to see the pink wonders on the wall. "Why so nervous?"

Yuri scratched his left cheek. "Well -er- I mean, events such as these are an honor, but I'm afraid I feel little out of place?" His voice lowered to a whisper as he talked.

'Straight and honest.' Victor found such oddly refreshing as most he'd associated with would skirt around to make him feel more comfortable when in fact they came across insincere or strained most of the time. 'To be frank though, his suit does seem to give him away.'

Not that Victor wanted to be rude. But that tie was in fashion three years ago and the dark mouse gray suit appeared untailored, if not borrowed.

'Not that it matters,' Victor chided himself, ignoring the issue as best as he could. 'That face more than makes up for it…wow get your head in gear.'

"Well, Mr. Katsuki, I can assure you these events don't have much to them other than be yourself. The hardest part is finding yourself invited in the first place, no?"

Yuri nodded again. "S-Sure that…makes a lot of sense. I guess it's nerves."

"Naturally." Victor replied indifferently yet kindly. "Now then, have you seen the rest of the works on display yet?"

"Uh, n-no. No, not yet."

"I see, well lets-"

A large hand slapped around Victor's shoulder. "Yo. There you are."

Blue eyes rolled. "Hello, Chris…I see you already hit the wine?"

"My Fri~end? Lay off," the man slurred thickly in a Swedish accent, officially interrupting the pair's conversation. "Gotta liven up these affairs with something and- holy crow, would you look at these."

"I was…" Victor took Chris' half- drunk glass so his friend could look closer without a possible incident. "This here is Yuri Katsuki. He painted these."

Chris, however, didn't look Yuri's way, instead kept studying the pieces before him. "Well I'll be…I could make the leaves actually green all day and they'd still be flat compared to this."

"Mr. Katsuki was telling me this is his first event like this."

Green eyes turned away from the wreath of roses to look at the short artist beside him. "Eh? You've got to be kidding. First? Really?" He asked Yuri directly.

"A certain number of paintings have to be sold first in order to apply, right? That was one of the requirements," Yuri shrugged.

Chris nodded. "Ah ha. So exposure is your problem then- Victor, gimme my drink back."

"Cutting you off," Victor denied as he gave the wine glass back to passing waiter.

"Aw, No fun."

"Sober up," Nikiforov gently chided. "Sorry, Mr. Katsuki, this here is Christophe Giacometti. He specializes in sculpting and regrettably my plus one apparently."

"Well gee, I feel the love."

"Then hit the coffee bar next time," Victor muttered.

Yuri bowed his head. "Uh, pleasure to meet you."

'Yeah, a pleasure.' Nikiforov deadpanned to himself, giving Chris a brief get-with-it glare while Yuri was busy acknowledging the tall blonde with a slight bow.

Giacometti smirked. "Nice to meet you too. If you two would excuse me, I gotta get some finger food while it lasts."

'Me too.' Yuri reminded himself as his stomach threatened to growl. 'Damn nerves made me lose my appetite all day.'

"Hungry?"

Yuri looked up, knowing full well he was read like an open book.

"Y-Yeah…my plane rolled in this morning but I hadn't had a chance to eat yet."

"Oh? Then eat with me."

Yuri adjusted his glasses with his left hand. "U-Um sure. Sounds good."

'What am I doing?' Yuri internally screamed. 'Doesn't he have like a million dollar deal he needs to close with someone? Why is thee Nikiforov talking to me?!'

"Perfect, I'd like to ask about your 'Heaven's Luna Moth' piece."

'Eh~?'

Yuri swallowed thickly to muffle the temptation to say that out loud. "S-Sure," he squeaked.

Victor tilted his head to the side. "You all right?"

Yuri cleared his throat. "Hai- yes, sure, let's go."

Blue eyes crinkled as a smile broke across Victor's face. 'Honest and easy to fluster…this will be an interesting night after all.'

"Well then, Mr. Katsuki, let's go. The night awaits."

Under the starry night, Yuri pulled his thin coat about himself as the fall wind blew.

Last to leave, still waiting for a taxi, Yuri glanced over his shoulder as the gallery lights dimmed for the night; with it his hope things would have turned around.

'Sold two, at least that will last me a few months before I look back to temp work.'

A tiny shack which doubled as a personal gallery in comparison to the exquisite place now behind him, Yuri was sure his profits could last him at least that long once boarding and travel would be taken out.

'God, don't feel so pathetic,' Yuri chided himself. 'You got to talk with him of all people most of the night and sold more in one night than you do in most of the time.'

It was a victory and he'd take it.

When a taxi could finally pick him up, the cab took him to his motel. Yuri had wished his chance of a lifetime included lodgings, but figured the board assumed he was well of enough to have come this far, to be considered worthy enough for his works to be on display.

'Luck.' He pushed his card key into the slot. 'Luck and knowing how to stretch the dollar.'

That's all it was and most days that's how he saw himself, living by this single truth. It's all he felt he needed.

After a shower and getting ready for the night, Yuri sat down on the mattress after towel drying his locks, leaving the towel on the floor. He put his glasses back on and opened his wallet after to take out an embossed business card with fine calligraphy.

-Victor Nikiforov-

'I wonder if it's written in gold or silver…its shiny…probably gold…yeah he seems like a person with that preference.' Yuri caught himself smiling and slowly slid the card away.

"Still drinking, really?" Victor scoffed when he saw the companion pullout a flask in the back of his limo. "I swear you're going to drive a pick into your hand one day and lose a finger from drinking like a fish."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I can handle myself just fine thanks…what's with you tonight anyway?"

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Chris…" he warned.

Chris leaned to this side. "So~ that's why you stepped away right before the auction," he changed the subject. "Heh, what piece did you order Yakov to buy for you this time?"

Victor crossed his legs. "I'll show you later."

"Uh huh. You should've made the kid's day by just purchasing it."

"He's twenty-four and you know I don't like making scene about purchasing art for myself."

"Uh huh. Victor likes what he likes so just do it and own it. I keep saying this."

"Yeah, well, sad for you you're going to have to keep saying it then." Victor reached over. "And gimme that flask I'm cutting you off."

"Meanie," Chris grumbled before looking out the window, giving up.

"Sir?" The chauffer called back. "We will be home in ten."

Nikiforov nodded before looking out the window. "Very good."

'Chris needs his eyes checked…or go to a AAA meeting or something…besides…' Victor shook his head a tiny bit so Chris wouldn't see. 'Like? It's perfect.'

"Ney, Victor…"

Blue eyes kept staring out the window. "Yes?"

"You have a bag?"

Victor fell forward, thudding the side of his wide forehead onto the cool glass for a moment. "Yes…hold on and you better not get any of it in my car this time."

"How long have you been painting?" Victor asked.

"Since I was eleven," Yuri replied, taking a sip of the event's champagne.

"Who taught you?"

"Self-taught mostly. Couldn't really afford lessons outside of study in school."

"I see. Where did you go?"

"Oh, um, in Detroit. Got a scholarship."

"Good for you. America has some good programs."

"Yes."

"Any reason you didn't study at home? Why there out of all the States?"

"Scholarship was for that offering school and where I am from, in Japan, a lot of the art techniques were traditional for our culture so I wanted to expand from there."

"I see."

"Um, how about you?"

"Hmm?"

"W-What inspired you to paint?"

'What inspired me to paint?' Victor thought the following morning.

I love expressing colors.

"Sheesh what was I thinking…such an interview-ish answer…" Victor muttered before taking a sip of his morning coffee as he sat down on his blue couch.

Moments later Victor heard a scuffle of padded feet make their way closer before lean arms slid over his shoulders in a lazy embrace.

"Morning…" A deep, sleepy voice rumbled.

'Dammit, Chris, I told you.' Victor ignored the faint smell of vomit and sighed with a roll of his eyes before continuing his scrolling through on his phone.

"….Wha…?"

The silver-haired man sat up a little straighter, frantically reading.

"Ney, what is it?"

Nikiforov didn't answer the blonde, instead got up, forcing the hung-over Chris to let go and fall backwards, no thanks to his fluffy slippers.

"Ney~!"

"Sorry. I got to go. Something big happened." Victor clipped as he rushed to get his shoes and his coat on.

Christophe slowly stood back up. "It better be…to make me land on my butt just now."

Victor pursed his lips for a brief scowl. "Maybe your fall will knock some sense into your bad habits?"

Giacometti pulled his robe back up over his right shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, I'm an idiot for drinking and being a big mess yada, yada."

The Russian's shoulders fell, 'We do argue about it a lot but you never seem to work on it,' and stepped forward after finishing to tie his winter scarf around his neck. "It would help us out if you got help, you know?"

Nose to nose, Victor, cupped a cool hand around the back of Chris' neck. "Just put a little work into yourself like you do with your art. That is all I ask."

Chris furrowed his brow as a hand slid around his flushed skin but relaxed to the touch. "Can't argue with that…do you have to go?"

The insinuation stung a little, left a bad taste in Victor's mouth. 'Don't press it…it'll just tick him off.'

"I'm sorry I have to go. There has been an incident in the news and I want to make sure everyone is okay."

Chris took a step back. "Jeezus, could you be more aloof?"

"Then read the news." Victor pecked the blonde's cheek. "I'll see you later," he made his way towards the door. "and coffee is ready for you."

"Yeah, yeah."

It was gone.

For clothes he had his flannel P.J.s and glasses. He was able to muster his wallet, phone, and dress shoes he'd rather not pay for again but…

'Just when things were looking up too…'

Yuri wiped the soot off his cheek as a first responder draped a security blanket over his shoulders and asked him questions in broken English.

"Have someone, yes?"

Yuri was about to shake his head when a blur of light-gray caught his attention.

'Eh?'

Worried eyes switched with a look determination as Yuri could only sit there and watch said eyes flit between looking at him and the first responder, speaking rapidly in Russian.

"Do you know this man?"

'Who doesn't?'

Yuri nodded, but not sure what for or why he needed to do so.

"Take care of you, yes?"

Yuri did a double take. 'Eh?'

"Until incident…paperwork…he'll take care of you, yes?"

He knitted his brow in confusion. "Um…hai? Yes? Er…ano…" Katsuki looked to the ground, whispering his last word, embarrassed.

"Yuri?"

The Japanese lifted his head up with a start to the soothing voice.

Victor raised a gloved hand and gently wiped Yuri's stray tear away. "Come. You've had one hell of a morning…"

'Well yeah but-'

"Let's get coffee, da?"

Yuri blinked once. 'Eh?'

He found himself sitting at a café in no time.

Yuri blinked twice. 'Eh?'

It was all a blur.

'Nani?'

Now he was here. With Nikiforov with his coat about his shoulders with a steaming cup between his hands.

'EHHHH-?'

"Yu~ri?"

The nervous man jolted slightly. "Oh-um-hi-um-no-I-thankyouverymuch I-"

Victor chuckled. "Has the caffeine kicked in already?"

"Hai. Sorry. I…." Yuri inhaled and exhaled and deftly took a sip of his coffee, unable to truly look at Victor in the eye.

Victor crossed his legs, amused but kept his face neutral to not offend.

"Heard what happened on the news…are you okay?"

Yuri swallowed his second sip. "Did…the news get my picture? How did you…?"

"You told me where you were staying last night."

"Oh…sorry."

"No need for that." Victor took a sip of his mocha.

Yuri looked over his glasses bashfully. "Um…thank you…for talking to the first responder for me."

"Of course." The Russian propped his head with his hand, resting his right elbow on the table. "Tell, me, Mr. Katsuki, do you need to call your family?"

Yuri shook his head.

"Friends?"

Yuri shook his head again. "I already called my friend Phichit."

Victor lifted his cup to his lips. "Oh? How's he?"

"Fine, thank you."

"May I ask where he's from?"

He sat up a little straighter. "Oh, um, he lives in Detroit but from Thailand."

Victor noted Yuri relaxing his shoulders and gave a small smile. "Oh? What do you two in the America? I've only been to a few States myself."

"Well I-" Yuri slapped his free hand over his sudden, growling stomach. "E-Excuse me."

Victor waved a dismissive hand and his smile grew. "My bad actually, let me get you breakfast."

Yuri set his cup down quickly. "N-No, no, I couldn't I-"

Victor was already heading to the counter. "Nonsense. You have lost enough in one day."

Two blueberry muffins was soon put in front of him.

"Is that ok-"

Yuri chowed down appreciatively. 'Yeah. I'm starving artist through and through…'

Victor held back a laugh. 'Guess I had nothing to worry about.'

Katsuki swallowed. "Didn't you get anything?" He brushed the crumbs off his mouth.

"Ah, no I ate earlier so go ahead."

"I see…thank you."

"Of course…now afterwards how about we go shopping? Can't go to the next viewing tonight in flannel, right?"

Yuri winced. "Yeah, I suppose I should. Do you know of any thrift stores around?"

Victor pulled back is head sharply in surprise, but relaxed. 'Not like the man planned on this financially.'

"Yes, of course. A couple come in mind and then go sight seeing? You said it's your first time in St. Petersburg, right?"

Yuri almost choked on his last bite. 'R-Really?'

"Yuri."

"Eh?"

Victor tilted this head to the side with a smile. "Yes. Really."

'Crap I said that out loud!'

The impressionist chuckled. "You really can't keep your thoughts in your head when you're nervous."

Yuri sighed. "No…not really…Um…Mr. Niki-"

"Victor…please."

Yuri swallowed. "I heard the first responder say something about taking care of me? What's going on?"

"Oh. Well, I may have made several assumptions so I apologize, but…you're alone here, aren't you? No handler. Agent? Didn't come with a friend?"

Yuri felt the heat rise on his cheeks under the gaze of his idol, but nodded. "Yes. I only brought myself."

'There's only really been myself….'

Victor turned on his phone that was sitting on the table. "Until the two-week showing is over," he showed the English-translated news article to Yuri, "and the pyro who apparently set your hotel aflame can pay for his crimes, I'd invite you to stay with me."

Yuri snapped his head up but with a mouth too full to protest.

"You were a victim," Victor continued un-phased, "and, more importantly, a fellow artist." He took back his phone. "So, if you have nothing planned at home that requires an immediate departure…why not stay close to me, da?" Victor gave a friendly wink.

Never mind rising, the heat was cranked up with a flourish and Yuri felt he'd faint onto the floor.

'But we just- breathe- not hitting on you, idiot, no no no, he's just being nice. Let him…holy fucking shit wh~~~y?'

Victor leaned back, doing his best to contain a giggle, biting his tongue. 'He overthinks but its cute.'

Yuri gave a quick shake of his had. "S-Sorry but, we but just met yesterday…um…"

Victor nodded. "True, but you're hardly imposing, if that's what you're thinking -'and you totally are'- when you've had such misfortune in my country."

Yuri exhaled, not like he had much choice. 'Not like I'm not wanting to spend time with him.'

"Um…are you sure you're not missing out on something?"

Victor smiled. "Nah, I'm fine. Let me get the rest of his drink to-go."

"Okay."

"Perfect."

"I'm gonna kill him!"

A balding, elderly gentleman kicked the wall. "That's it! I'm gonna punch a hole in it!"

A red head woman darted out in front of the fuming man. "Come on now. You know you'll feel worse if you did."

A fat digit pointed to the new purchase recently hung nearby. "He calls me late at night to pick up this pink garbage at a ridiculous price and he can't even-"

"You would call the Mona Lisa trash when you're angry, sir. Let's calm down, Yakov."

He gave her steely glare. "Mila. Get. Him. On. The. Phone."

"I can't," she sighed. "I've tried five times already so we might as well reschedule."

"Reschedule?" Victor's handler clipped towards the secretary. "Sure let's reschedule with our client and she how well they take it after coming all the way here. Sure, why the hell not?" He muttered off. "Not like the bastard has three works due in less than a month…"

Alone in front of her desk, ran a hand through her short hair. "One of these days, Vitya, I-"

Her cellphone rang.

"Mila, hey listen I-"

"Whatever you're doing, drop it, and get your ass over here!"

"But I ca~n't!"

"Listen, you overgrown child," she hissed. "I don't care if I'm your cousin. You better get here in fifteen before Yakov has a conniption and I won't protect you if he does."

"But I-"

-Click-

Victor pulled the smartphone away from his ear and pouted at the screen where apps covered a picture of his dog.

"A-Ano?"

The Russian turned around. 'Dear Baba…wow…'

Yuri fidgeted in front of the mirrors dressed in a classic cut suit with a white dress shirt. "Isn't this too much?"

Victor, behind him, wagged a finger and placed it near his lip. "Nonsense. You said thrift stores so consignment is close, da? I'd say lucky find honestly."

Yuri adjusted the jacket cuffs. "I hope the color looks ok…I haven't been all that good with keeping with the style."

"To be honest, I wasn't sure why you chose a slate grey, but it looks good…hmm…that tie is begging to be burned though. Let me get you something else."

Yuri exhaled as Victor went off to search. 'Whew…at least I didn't pick an odd color…'

"Here we go!"

It was dark purple to one and a black to the other, simple and more current.

'Not ideal, but this will do.' Victor thought.

"Yuri, what do you think of the color?"

Katsuki fought with himself not to wring his hands at his sides. "N-nice."

'God, if he knew…it would be so embarrass-' "What are you doing?"

Victor pulled at Yuri's wide blue tie at the knot. "I have to get going, unfortunately, so let me help you and you can come with me."

"Eh -oh- um…" Yuri swallowed hard and fought to keep the blushing to a minimum as Victor redid his tie.

"There we go." Victor candidly smiled. "Now then, how about we go to work?"

Yuri did a double take. "Eh?"

The Russian took his hand. "You say that too much, haha."

Yuri paid for a few days-worth of casual clothes and left the business suit on him.

Victor waved down a taxi. "Fortunately my gallery isn't far from here."

"You told me you weren't missing out on anything."

Victor chuckled. "Yeah…I'm forgetful…I have a meeting that was supposed to start ten minutes ago."

"Y-You're a piece of work." Yuri clapped a hand over his mouth and Victor just laughed it off.

"Not the first time or last time I'll be told that."

Yuri groaned. "Sorry."

The Russian waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be when it's true."

Yuri let Victor get into the taxi first. "Then… wha-"

"Can't be an artist and not be yourself at the same time."

The Japanese shut the door in after them but only nodded.

"Nikiforov Galleria please," Victor instructed the driver.

"Idiot!" Yakov hissed as nervous sweat beaded across his brow. "Be professional. For once!"

"I am every day," Victor shrugged, laughing it off as he hung up his coat by the front door.

Victor, Mila, and Yakov's chatter zoned out into white noise as Yuri looked about from the doormat.

'This…this is crazy…ok. It's official. I burned in the fire and this is a dream.'

The allure of the works displayed pulled Yuri towards them. Portraits to landscapes to still life, it was easy to fall into your headspace when craftsmanship such as he saw popped out at him.

There was many to look at, but the one which stole his attention…was his own.

'M-My Heaven's Luna Moth piece!'

Steam nearly blew out of Yuri's ears as he stood before his work in shock.

"He didn't tell you did he?"

Yuri whipped his head towards the feminine voice, saw her eyes, short hair, and smile, looked right back to his work and back at her again. "Uh, I-I-I th-that's m-mine," he strained to whisper between them as Yakov continued his scolding while pushing Victor towards another room.

Mila stepped a bit closer. "I figured if you have a reaction like that," she beamed. "Oh and don't worry about him, he'll be back to show you around I bet."

"Oh he has a meeting, d-didn't he?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Yes. And he's late," she sighed.

"Gomen!" Yuri promptly bowed. "He was taking me shopping as I had lost things due to the fire and-" he spoke a mile a minute until Mila started to giggle.

"Relax, Mr. Katsuki," she gently chided. "You're not in trouble."

"Still though…he had told me-"

"Victor may have his quirks but he's a gentle person," she assured before her shoulders fell, "though a little too eager to please."

Her change of demeanor didn't go unnoticed.

'Huh.' Yuri stood upright. 'Wonder what she means…' he nearly slapped his cheeks. 'Come on. Relax.'

"S-So…uh…miss?"

"Oh, Mila, please to meet you." She held out her hand. "I'm Victor's cousin and work as a secretary here."

"O-Oh! Nice to meet you too. Um, is there anything I can do to help around here as we wait? I mean, with the fire and all I would like to keep busy."

She nodded. "I understand. Busyness calms the nerves type, da? I think I have something you can help with," She waved him to follow her. "Might need to set your jacket aside though."

A stern woman in her late fifties crossed her arms. "Mr. Nikiforov, I expect this painting to be ready?"

Victor gave a collected smile and he crossed his legs as Yakov displayed the piece onto an easel in their private conference room. "Yes, you have my apologies I am late, Lilia. I had a friend get into an accident this morning so I lost track of time."

"Was it about the fire?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "I've heard about the story this morning. There's suspicion a pyro is making their rounds…disturbingly again."

Victor kept his smile on but dialed it down as the conversation turned serious. "Unfortunate but true."

Yakov cleared his throat. "However, we assure you the piece is safe."

The lady nodded. "Good. I'll pay upfront and in full as always," she asserted and signed the paperwork to officially purchase the beautiful oil painting of an orchid in the room.

"Can count on you to be pleased," Victor nodded in appreciation.

"Your work is immaculate and I'm content with my fifth piece to add to my collection. Tell me, do you have a theme for next year yet?"

Victor shook his head. "No…but I feel I am getting there."

"Feelings are good. Tell me first when you do." She rose up and Victor followed suit to shake her hand.

"Of course ma'am."

Victor and Yakov followed after the loyal customer out of the room to set up a delivery time.

"Would this coming Monday be all right, ma'am?" Mila asked.

"Yes will three sharp be good."

"Of course."

Lila turned around to face the gentlemen behind her. "Then that settles it. I look forward to seeing you at tonight's auction, Mr. Niki-" Her eyes widened slightly when something pink caught her eye. "What is that?"

Victor followed her stare and smiled. "This is 'Heaven's Luna Moth' by Yuri Katsuki. Sad to say he was the friend I had aforementioned but was a fellow artist at the showing that started last night."

Lilia had moved closer to the painting as Victor talked. "It certainly…makes you think…but I am more interested why you chose to hang it here in your gallery."

"You know as well as I do any painting worth their salt follows the rules of art, but its only truly art if it calls to someone on another level. I guess it did so for me."

'Yeah, his brown eyes had nothing to do with it I'm sure…' Mila rolled her eyes while typing away at her computer.

Lilia stepped away from the monochromatic piece, nodding in understanding. "I guess among artists its not a crime to show a little light of recognition to others where you can. Tell me, do you know where this Mr. Katsuki is? I'd to speak with him."

Victor turned to Mila who had already stood up. "He insisted to help me so I took him to the back. I'll go fetch him."

'The only thing in the back is my workspace…aw what the hell, Mila?! I said I was sorry I had forgotten!'

"N-No -cough- no I'll get him," Victor choked out before he cleared his voice to repeat himself. "I'll see where he is."

An artist's space is their space. A particular mess in which only heaven for that particular person.

For Yuri, he didn't move from where Mila had left him.

'Go ahead and organize these canvasses, will you please? The rack for them are over there and don't worry about order as each have corresponding labels on the back.' Yuri recalled her words, picking up her frustration Victor wasn't good at picking up after himself. 'The coat rack is over there and here is an apron to protect your clothes.'

However, Yuri hadn't moved much from the door way.

The sink was spotless. Cups of brushes on counters were now dry, clean, and ready to be put away. The lighting in the room entirely natural as windows took up two of the four walls, save for lights overhead should the weather be bad.

On a couple long tables were the assortment canvases Mila wanted Yuri to move. None appeared to be terribly heavy but they weren't his.

"They're unfinished," Yuri muttered as his hands shook at his sides. "Nobody has seen these…after everything…this…yes this is way too mu-"

"Yuri?"

The first thing Victor saw was blown-wide brown eyes followed by trembling hands.

"S-S-!"

Victor impulsively placed a finger onto Yuri's lips within sharply taking a step closer. "Not your fault. Not angry. You're okay."

Yuri remained frozen. Eyes wider still.

"I'll have a word with Mila, all right?" Victor spoke softly and with care. "She was thoughtless. Didn't realize how, indebted and stressed out you've felt already today."

Yuri slowly closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. "Thank you…I really needed to hear that…"

Victor had taken back his finger only to settle the same hand onto Yuri's shoulder. "Of course…and I can assure you you don't owe me a thing...you need a minute? I've only come to see if you'd like to talk to a friend of mine. She saw your artwork."

Yuri blinked and swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. "S-Sure. Is your meeting done?"

"Yes, she had seen your art across from Mila's desk when she was about done. I think you'd like her, though she can be rather intense. She is certainly particular so I'd love it if you can come meet her."

Yuri straightened out his shoulders and corrected his posture immediately. "Of course! Least I can do."

Victor smiled. "Perfect."

It was a blur.

A near out of body experience. The whole day and then there was tonight still.

Yuri was looking out the window of another taxi. 'Oh just some meeting. Sure. Just another day with his friend Lilia Baranovskaya the top collector of Russia who wanted to see more of my work tonight. No pressure. Sure.'

"Yuri?"

The Japanese blinked to register a hand was waving in front of his face.

"Ah, sorry, I zoned out there," Yuri rapidly apologized.

Victor grinned. "Well it has been a long day…"

Yuri nodded. "No argument here." He took off his glasses to inspect them for a moment. "God…and I still need to set up a new place."

"What do you mean?"

Yuri glanced to side to see Victor giving a clueless child-like expression.

'Oh no.'

Victor gave a wider smile. "Where do you think we are going, silly?"

'No, no, no…'

Victor-debonair-apparently-only-to-the-public-Nikiforov simply looked at Yuri as if this was an obvious answer.

'No, no, no, no, say no thank you, Yuri Kat-'

"Honey, I'm home~!"

Doom hung over Yuri's head as he stood behind a thrilled Russian who waited for his brown poodle to bound into view and greet him with plenty of kisses at the doorway of his luxury condo.

'This can't be happening~!'

"Neh, Yuri?"

Yuri tore his eyes from frantically scanning around he was sure was unmarked territory any press has never seen to the happy man being licked by his purebred on the floor.

"Yes?"

Victor gave him a gentle look. "Welcome. I hope you and I can become good friends."

-thud-

And like that, Yuri had passed out onto the floor.

Thank you for reading! I'd love some feedback! :D