untitled v5 florian and viktor
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.