KIC VERSION OF #CHIHOKOGATE
Victor is naked. On top of the Empire State Building.
“Victor,” Yuuri says, horrified. “Get down from there!”
“Is this better than Chihoko, Yuuri?” Victor demands, twisting every which way to try and get to the construction platform that leads to the very tippy top. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by how terribly naked he is, despite it being socially unacceptable and also being fifty degrees outside, with winds reaching twenty miles per hour.
Or if he is, he simply doesn’t care. He’s long dismissed the security guards calling out to him, too.
“Who’s Chihoko?” Yuuri asks, exasperated. “Never mind, come on. Victor. You have a meeting with—”
“Oh, and I bet Chihoko was never late for meetings when you booked them for her, too, yeah? Just like Chihoko probably took you here to the—oh, fuck!”
Yuuri watches as Victor slips on a metal covering, falls. It’s as if it’s happening in slow motion. Yuuri can only watch in horror, but at the last second, he wills his feet to move and suddenly he’s bolting forward, arms outstretched.
“Oof.“ Victor lands in Yuuri’s arms. He huffs and ducks his head into Yuuri’s neck, speaking into it. Yuuri shudders, from the cold or from the way Victor’s lips brush against his skin or from the way Victor’s everything brushes against his arms—Yuuri doesn’t know.
“I bet you caught Chihoko the same wa—”