For @yoi-career-week representing the wonderful world of finance!
“Um, Victor? S-sorry to disturb you but, um-”
“What do you need me to sign?”
The Finance Director didn’t even look up from his desk, cheek propped up against his fist and silver bangs fluttered over his left eye. His right was glued to his computer screen, tiny frown marring his forehead as he analysed a spreadsheet with sharp cerulean blue eyes. They served him well - he had a reputation for being ruthlessly meticulous.
Maybe that was why he was cutting to the chase with Yuuri - after all, not many people came over to Victor’s part of the office except to ask for something. Usually his signature to release a payment.
Yuuri fumbled with the papers in his hands. “Um, this.”
He held the papers out with trembling hands, glad that at least they didn’t rustle traitorously with his shakes. Victor glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.
“They’re warranty credits for India. They, um, didn’t want to offset-”
The papers tugged out of Yuuri’s hands.
Whatever else Yuuri might have said died in his throat as Victor flipped the lid off his exquisite fountain pen with a pop and slapped the papers down on the desktop, eyes scouring over the cover sheet all the while. He turned the page with a flick of his fingers. Then the other. Then back to the cover sheet, scanning over the bank details one more time, nib of his pen resting by the dotted line above his typed name.
Yuuri’s heart was in his mouth.
Everybody knew about the Finance Director. Youngest director in the company’s history, ruthless and shrewd, absolutely brilliant… and devastatingly handsome. That silver hair and those crystal blue eyes had Yuuri all but melting into a puddle at his feet, the pale complexion of his skin looking so beautiful it was hard not to stare. But if he didn’t stare at Victor’s face, then his body was just as distracting. His suits were always perfectly crafted for his body, always the best colours and styles, emphasising the sleek lines of his slim torso and the all too perfect curve of his ass-
The paper waved under Yuuri’s nose with a flap.
Yuuri’s face flushed red.
Victor’s swirly elegant signature danced on the cover sheet in sleek black ink, still glinting in the lights as it dried. Yuuri just stared at it, mesmerised. It was beautiful.
The paper rustled, bobbing once.
Yuuri didn’t get the hint.
Not until a bored - almost glaring - gaze cast in his direction, reluctantly dragged away from the computer screen. It caught Yuuri’s eye instantly. He all but gasped, heat flooding his face with embarrassment. Pure disdain bled through the Director’s gaze, dark through the silvery lashes fanned over it, the dull boredom stark and sharp as he flickered away from the spreadsheet.
Yuuri felt his heart drop into his stomach, throat running dry. His mouth hung open gormlessly, face glowing red with humiliation.
His gaze dropped down to his shoes in a heartbeat and he gripped the papers just a little too hard as he took them back, fingers crinkling the pages ever so slightly.
He should go, he thought. He should go, and run, and hide under his desk for the rest of his life for being the most awkward AP Clerk in the history of the world who couldn’t even talk to the director to release a payment without screwing up -
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Victor do a double take.
Those brilliant blue eyes had just started to swivel back to the computer screen after what must have been less than a second of a glare - though to Yuuri it had felt like a lifetime! - when the director’s neck whipped back to Yuuri, his gaze blinking wide. Yuuri glanced up through his lashes, hardly daring to look.
What he saw made his breath catch all over again - but for completely different reasons this time.
The glare was gone. Instead, Victor’s eyes sparkled and shimmered, blinked wide with surprise and delight instead of hooded with a glare. His thick silver eyelashes fluttered. His fringe had flicked out of his face, pretty pink lips parted and the tiniest of gasps passing through them, so quiet that Yuuri more saw than heard it. A blush stained the Director’s usually perfect porcelain cheeks. A blush!
Yuuri shuffled on his feet, feeling his own face darken. What had he done now? Did he have something on his face?
And - oh God, Victor was rising to his feet.
“Hi,” he smiled. Smiled. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Victor.”
Yuuri didn’t see the hand outstretched to him until the last minute, jostling the papers around to free up his suddenly very clammy right hand. A page fluttered to the floor. Damn it.
He wanted to leave it, forget it, find it in a second… only he desperately needed those documents that he’d put himself through such humiliation to get signed and he couldn’t afford to lose them now. All it would take would be a gust from a window, a door shutting too hard, somebody walking by just a little fast and the air could catch under the page, carry it away, lose it forever…
“I, um, sorry, I’ll just-”
They both reached for the paper.
They both paused, catching the other do the same - but not before their fingers had already bumped over the page, fingertips frozen. Their eyes linked, blinking up in the same moment. Neither one of them moved.
Victor was the first to smile. “You work in Celestino’s department, right?”
“Yeah, um, that’s right.”
“Are you the one that’s doing such beautiful work reconciling the control accounts?”
“I, um…” Yuuri cleared his throat. “Beautiful?” He’d never heard anybody call accounting beautiful before.
“Beautiful.” Victor reaffirmed. “The way you really understand the numbers, work out their secrets … you really tell a story with how you connect with the transactions instead of just trying to write off the balances. I admire that.”
Yuuri’s blush darkened, eyes dipping down to the fallen page on the floor. Victor hadn’t moved his hand, fingers still draped casually over his. Yuuri felt every millimetre of their contact, Victor’s skin cool to the touch and lifting the tiny hairs on the back of Yuuri’s hand to stand on end, sending shivers down his spine. He hoped Victor didn’t notice – that brilliant beam and those sharp blue eyes looked like they noticed everything though.
If he moved his hand now and pulled the page away, would Victor be offended? Would he take it personally? Yuuri didn’t dare move just in case, running through each possible escape scenario in his head and envisioning how badly it could go.
His thighs were starting to ache from crouching in such an awkward position, pinned under Victor’s gaze like it was a physical weight around his neck, holding him down from leaving.
Yuuri internally groaned. Another question – another minute balanced on the floor, with his hand under Victor’s, when all he wanted to do was crawl into the bathroom and scream into his jumper-
“Y-yes,” was all he said aloud, instead of his internal monologue. “AAT Level 2 Accounting.”
Victor’s eyes shone, his smile widening a fraction. It looked genuine. “I’m glad.”
Sea green streaked through the director’s gaze at the upturn in the corner of his mouth, the colour warm and inviting compared to the ice chipped blue it swirled through. It fluttered butterflies in Yuuri’s stomach. The colours were dancing in the poor lights of the office, giving off a shine of their own. It was so pretty. Yuuri couldn’t stop staring and - oh God, now he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty the rest of the director was too!
He barely noticed Victor’s hand shift beneath his, the smooth slither of skin on skin not enough to jolt Yuuri out of his coma. The loud click from his knees was though.
“Ow,” he winced, blinking down.
It was only then he realised they weren’t crouching anymore.
“Well, if you ever need any help-” Victor went on as if nothing had happened, stood in front of Yuuri with the stray paper in hand. “Or have any questions-” His fingers glided along the page - grazing over Yuuri’s. His eyes shone gloriously. “I’m always happy to help.”
Yuuri felt the floor give out beneath him, heat flooding his face.
There was no mistaking that, not by anybody’s standards. A wink - the director was flirting with him! With him, a lowly clerk, who-
“You never told me your name.”
Yuuri gasped - he really needed to get out of his head and start concentrating on what Victor was saying, and doing, and-
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Victor tilt his head ever so slightly to the side, frown starting to furrow his brow and bright eyes marring with a touch of confusion. Yuuri swore silently in his head. He was doing it again, and Victor was noticing.
What had the question been again?
“Y-Yuuri,” he said, when he remembered. “Yuuri Katsuki.”
He tried to ignore the heat quickly gathering on his cheeks, but it wasn’t an easy feat when his blush only darkened more with every passing second, feeling Victor’s gaze look right through him. Like he could see what Yuuri was thinking, judging him. Maybe he could see it in Yuuri’s face or in his eyes, in the way Yuuri caught his lower lip in his teeth just to stop himself from accidentally blabbing even though he just couldn’t stop the words in his head-
But then Victor was smiling again and Yuuri just forgot how words worked entirely in that moment, Victor’s face lighting up beautifully.
“Yuuri….” he toyed with the name, stretching out the syllables. Yuuri wanted to hear it again, watch it roll off Victor’s tongue, see the flash of delight in his gaze spark off all over again. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Yuuri.”
Yuuri’s heartbeat was pounding in his fingertips as he felt his arm thud to his side, paper rustling. Victor had let go of the page.
Still, he got one more look at that glorious smile and those heart melting eyes, committing them to memory. He felt himself start to smile back - crooked and awkward compared to Victor’s smooth grin.
The papers wrinkled against his chest as he turned and clutched them tight, focusing on each crease he was bending into the pages rather than the eyes he could feel still watching him as he slowly walked away. The smile on his face stretched wider, something warm blooming pleasantly behind his ribcage.
He couldn’t wait for the next payment run.