untitled v5 florian and viktor flash fiction
contains misgendering, transphobia, homophobia and usage of slurs.

Right away, it was obvious to Florian that the man was drunk -- he stood over Florian and Viktor's table, blocking out the light and enveloping the both of them in the cloud of liquor vapors that surrounded the man. He swayed where he stood, his shadow following his body as it did so. Florian knew the man -- one of his dad's low-ranking flunkies, he didn't know his name. Some pusher who was a step or two above Florian on the ladder at best. He laughed loudly, resting his arm on the back of Florian's seat, but his eyes were fixed on Viktor.

"I'll be damned, Viktor. You finally got yourself a woman? And I thought you were some kind of fucking faggot."

The instant the words left the man's lips, Florian flinched. His body tensed and his mouth went dry, his fingers curling into loose fists as bile rose in his throat and heat flared in his cheeks. That son of a bitch. He was about to say something but as he lifted his eyes from the table, he saw Viktor -- his shoulders relaxed, his expression calm... Almost amused. He met the man's gaze without the slightest hint of anxiety. Florian didn't think he'd ever seen Viktor this "relaxed" unless they were alone in one of their apartments.

"I'd think carefully about my next words, if I were you, Iulian." Viktor said with a low chuckle.

No. He wasn't relaxed. Viktor's hands were open, but pressed flat to the table, the knuckles going white. Iulian laughed racously, spewing another cloud of liquor-breath over the pair of them. Florian drew further back into his seat, lip curling into a sneer and his nose wrinkling with disgust.

"A little late to be ashamed of your past, isn't it?" He asked. "Those tattoos are forever, after all."

"Not at all." Viktor responded coolly. "But I'm going to guess you've been a member of this organization long enough to know how important respect is, right? Go home -- you're fucking drunk."

"Or is it that you're embarrassed to be dating the boss's little girl? Would've thought that'd be something to be proud of..."

Florian clenched his fists tighter, his eyes narrowing. The bile that had begun to rise in his throat was the only thing he could taste now and tears of frustration and anger were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. The heat that had risen in his cheeks had solidified into a burning rage that he wasn't sure what to do with. Florian could fight, a little bit. He wasn't good at it and with someone twice his height who probably had at least a hundred pounds on him, Florian would've had no chance of winning the fight.

Viktor's eyes narrowed, the only sign on his face of any irritation. "This is your last chance, Iulian. Now, you apologize to Mr. Lazarescu's son and I won't let him know about this little...indiscretion."

Iulian scoffed, apparently too drunk to realize just what a good fucking deal he was getting and decided to keep pushing. He turned to Florian now, grinning. "Come on, Anetka -- did you have to teach Viktor how to fuck your pussy or are you taking it up the--"

There was a resounding SMACK, the sound of crunching bones, the clatter of silverware falling to the floor and the crack of breaking porcelain. Before Florian had even had a chance to respond, the man's head wasbeing slammed into the table, causing the entire booth to shake. Viktor was on his feet, still holding onto the back of the Iulian's shirt and jacket. As he was pulled back to his feet, a thick rope of mixed blood and saliva connected him to the surface of the table, snapping when Viktor threw him onto the ground. Florian stared for what felt like an eternity at the broken plate, its missing shards and the smear of blood across the table... When he brought his eyes back up to Viktor, still stunned by how quickly things had progressed, he was standing over Iulian -- who was now trying get to his feet but scrambling across the tiled floor to get away from him.

"See, you really should have listened. That was a good deal, Iulian." Viktor's voice was cool and collected and terrifyingly calm.

He lacked any outward expression of any emotion and his movements weren't rushed or hurried. Hell, he looked almost casual as he strode ahead, cutting off the Iulian's path of escape. A well-aimed kick put a stop to Iulian's forward progress and caused the man to cry out in pain -- though the cry was caught off by the air being forced from his lungs and nearly drowned out by the sound of ribs breaking.

"I don't understand how you've been a part of this organization long enough to know Mr. Lazarescu's poor, departed daughter and never learned simple respect." Viktor continued, kicking Iulian for a second time.

Iulian gasped and wheezed. He was having trouble breathing now, there was no way he hadn't broken at least half of his ribs on the one side. "Viktor-- I'm--sorry!" He choked out, struggling onto his hands and knees to beg forgiveness.

"It must have just been pure, dumb luck." A third kick -- this time connecting with Iulian's face -- sent him backwards several feet where he landed face up, choking and spitting blood.

Florian watched all of this with a sort of sick fascination: he knew perfectly well what kind of work Viktor did, the kinds of jobs he ran for Florian's father but... He'd never actually seen why Viktor had the reputation he did -- never seen how absolutely terrifying he could be. And as fucked up as it was, Florian found it kind of hot. He gripped the edge of the table, eyes fixated to the scene as Viktor lifted Iulian back onto his feet by his collar and shoved him into the nearest wall.

"We're going to have to make sure you actually get the message, Iulian." Viktor said, returning to pummeling the fuck out of the other man.

Every blow that landed made Florian wince, made his stomach squirm and made his cheeks hot. Yeah, that wasn't normal, he was pretty sure of it. But he didn't really care if it was normal or not -- why the hell would he? Viktor was his and he was Viktor's. He'd never even seen the faintest trace of violence from him before -- other than in the heat of the moment, shoved up against a wall and... That was entirely different, as far as Florian was concerned. When Viktor seemed satisfied with his work, he dragged Iulian's unconscious body back to the table and tossed him into his seat from before. Viktor shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Fucking idiot." He looked over at Florian, leaning over to kiss him on the the head. "I need to call your father, then we'll deal with the rest of this." He gestured to the broken plates and the mess on the floor.

Florian nodded slowly, staring up at Viktor with wide eyes, his fingers still gripping the edge of the table for dear life. His breath was coming faster and harder than it should've been. "--Yeah, right. I..."

Viktor gave him a lop-sided smirk. "Don't worry, the owner is one of ours. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Florian didn't know how to explain that he wasn't afraid or upset but rather that seeing Viktor commit such a brutal act of violence had turned him on more than it should of. Florian was pretty sure it shouldn't have turned him on at all but it did. The whole thing had been a mix of shocking and hot as all hell for him. Maybe it was being protected like that, maybe it was the cold effieciency with which Viktor had moved. He couldn't really tell.

"Hey, Nikolai -- yeah, we've got a little problem. No, nothing serious. You remember Iulian Pavel? Yeah, yeah, him. Complete idiot decided to start mouthing off about your ah... 'daughter'."

Several seconds passed, Florian watching Viktor's expression change. The unnatural calm was gone now and the man that he was used to be around seemed to be back again -- dedicated, but a little bit tired and in need of a long fucking vacation. Whatever his father was saying on the other end of the line, it didn't look like Viktor liked it very much.

"Well, I couldn't exactly let him get away with that kind of thing, you understand. I have to uphold your reputation too. Of course. Yes, I know. He'll be fine, once someone gets him some medical treatment. Not sure if his face will ever look the same but..."

Florian glanced at Iulian's unconscious form now and flinched. His face was a mess. Covered in lacerations from the broken plate, his eyes already starting to swell shut, his lip split in several places and clearly missing some teeth at this point... Plus his nose was obviously broken, smashed flat and pushed to one side of his face. Florian grimaced. No, there was definitely no way his face was ever going to look the same after that.

"We're at Alcina's -- should I call someone to pick him up?" Another little pause. "Sure thing. Of course. I'll make sure Florian doesn't do anything too stupid, don't worry." Viktor glanced at Florian and grinned at him. "Great. I'll take care of it. Goodnight, Nikolai." He hung up the phone.

"So...what did he say?" Florian asked, slipping out of his seat, looking at Iulian with disgust.

"Don't worry about it." Viktor said, draping an arm over Florian's shoulder. He tossed a rather large roll of bills onto the table and then a much smaller roll into Iulian's lap. "Let's get the fuck out of here."