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Yuuri!!! On Pole

Chapter Text

How did a world famous dancing talent-turned-choreographer find himself trudging through icy winds and the busy streets of Japan all on his lonesome?

The simple answer is that Viktor Nikiforov, a multiple award winner for his performances across the globe, owner of more gold medals than he can count, has become bored.

It’s not necessarily the fault of one thing or the other, just a stagnation on his current life, having all but retired from competition, it has become increasingly difficult for him to remain interested in the sport he still dearly loved.

And it’s also why he’s trekking through the country, searching for inspiration anywhere he can find it, using maps from magazines and internet articles to guide his journey, which is how he ended up just a few feet away from a building dubbed “The Ice Castle”.

It had, for at least a few months now, if not years, felt as if something was missing in his life, whether it was the rush of actual competition or not, he wasn’t sure, but even the thought of it hadn’t done much to rectify his situation.

Such beliefs had brought him this far, and as he stood in front of the gate, peering up at the building from the bottom of a mild incline, he hoped that, after so long, he might find an answer.

To his initial surprise, the latch opened without so much of a buzzer or a key or any sort of device, given how well off the place seemed to be and how much he had read about it in the weeks prior to this trip, he was expecting something of a hassle to get in.

He instead merely finished his approach by reaching the two large front doors and, after a moment to fix his wind blown hair, let himself in.

The dancer was greeted with a warm, almost homely atmosphere, and a brightened interior, one that didn’t match some of the things he’d seen in the slightest, which caused him to reach his right up to his chin.

Most, if not all of the reports that he’d read made mention of something a little less family friendly, but still just as high in quality as the rest of the building.

Not that he was necessarily looking for such a room, of course, even he scoffed at such an idea as he scanned over the room for some entrance point or proof of it’s existence.

Viktor didn’t have to look too hard, however, as two doors similar to the decorated ones he’d walked through just moments ago were located in the very back of the establishment, with a neon-lit sign above them that read “Adults Only” and a sort of fog seeping from underneath them.

Having, presumably at least, found the second half of the building, Nikiforov took some time to enjoy the environment he found himself in, the welcoming feel that surrounded him and the various scents and sounds of food cooking just beyond a counter.

It was definitely an improvement over some locations, but still not what he was truly looking for, and as he snapped pictures and selfies with his phone, he began to wander around, merely exploring and postponing his inevitable trip to the back.

His device was lowered back into his pocket as soon as the screen read sent, allowing him to peruse the few spots in the room he hadn’t yet, and, inadvertently, check to see if anyone noticed who he was.

The dancer wouldn’t have been surprised either way, but after a few steps around and a little backtracking, he let out a subtle sigh of relief, as he knew that if anyone did recognize him, and even worse, watched him enter the darkened room, it could be somewhat disastrous.

With the room cleared, and his own thoughts and concerns as quieted as they were going to get, Viktor took in a breath and approached the backroom and twisted the knobs before him, stepping through with his eyes shut.

Music roared in this place, a beat pouring out over the surprisingly large crowd as various people rocked and moved against metal poles planted throughout the somewhat large area.

He paid them as little mind as he could for the time being, keeping a wandering eye to himself as he made his way to an open chair that was placed around a currently empty main stage, sitting himself down onto the cushiony surface with ease just before an attendant quizzed him about a drink.

Once the waiter was dealt with, sent off for a simple glass of water, for now anyway, Viktor started to get comfortable in his seat, again taking in his surroundings as the red lights hanging around the room flashed and the performers did their thing.

It was definitely notable how good at their jobs some of them were, their talent and ability matching the establishment they were working in, and while he didn’t watch just one, he found the tone of the room to be a lighter, friendly one, again lining up with what he had walked into.

“Viktor? What’s going on, man?” A familiar voice suddenly rang out off to his right side, startling him some and even prompting his slight smile to fade into a more neutral look as he quickly shifted to investigate.

“Christophe? What are you doing here?” Viktor replied, his voice as stunned as the rest of him as the man bent over and rested a shoulder on the top of the chair with a smirk across his face.

Of all the places to find a friend and a former competitor, the middle of a somewhat fancy strip club area, miles away from either of their homelands, was certainly not one that had crossed the dancer’s mind.

“Same thing as you, I’d imagine.” Chris replied with a quieted chuckle in his voice, keeping his almost smug expression up as he took a sip from the glass he held in his right hand before nudging a spare chair over and taking a seat.

“Oh, n-no, I’m not here for anything like that.” The man quickly responded, shaking his head with his hands raised, a nervous smile forming on his face as a blush became lightly painted over it.

“Heh, well, I wouldn’t be so sure.” His fellow dancer said, patting his left hand against his back, inadvertently jolting his friend forward as he took another drink from his steadily drying cup.

“Well, ah-anyway, why are you really...all the way out here?” Viktor shifted back to his original question, keeping composure as his own drink arrived, using it to bury any notable signs of being the least bit flustered.

“Oh, I come here all the time, it’s a very nice place, great for vacations.” Christophe answered, his tone of voice as soft as it had ever been as he nodded at the waiter for a refill.

“I’ve even performed here before, you know?” He smoothly added, his typical smirk returning as he received a fresh glass and lifted it up towards his left, having a sort of toast with his friend before taking a drink from it.

“But it’s been more fun to just sit back and relax, there’s this one guy, and you’re right on time, he’s great.” The man finished, nodding to the opposite chair as he placed his drink back down on the table between them.

His remarks caused Viktor’s brow to ruffle some, a slightly confused, intrigued look forming on his face as his attentions were brought away from his more personal conversation, and instead put on the announcement taking place over the music.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for your main event of the evening.” The booming voice spoke, his words having a similar effect on the rest of the room as they had on the dancer, who watched as the various dancers left their stations and went behind a curtain.

“Performing to a song entitled “Eros” tonight, it’s Katsuki Yuuri!” And, with a click of an assumed microphone, the voice vanished, and the room got even darker as the lights dimmed as low as they could go.

“Katsuki Yuuri?” Viktor audibly questioned, keeping an eye on the rounded platform in front of him as he found himself somewhat eagerly awaiting whatever was about to happen.

“Oh yes, he’s very famous around here, this is practically his club.” Chris chimed in, reclining in his seat as others seemingly flooded around the stage, an immense level of anticipation setting into the entire room.

Red lights grew from the circle in front of him, getting gradually brighter as a beat kicked back in and sound overtook the room again, though the crowd remained silent until the bright red curtains were slowly pulled back and a shadowy form approached.

Nearly everyone, even Christophe, went wild, cheers and yells breaking out from all sides, almost overtaking the cool beat of the track as Viktor remained in place, still somewhat dumbfounded and confused.

“Chris, what’s-” He began to ask as the figure stepped into the lights that illuminated the stage and a black and silver outfit came into sight, of which Viktor took his time to analyze from the bottom up.

Shiny black shoes, tight leather pants, a top that was half black and half transparent, adorned with what appeared to be silver stones, fingerless gloves, a choker, and jet black hair that was pushed backwards.

It was a sight to behold, just as the man who was wearing the outfit was, though he was certainly the centerpiece, in Viktor’s eyes at least, and as he watched the breathtaking figure extend his arms and tightly grip the metal in front of him, the dancer felt as if time could have stopped.

The world still moved around him, though now it seemed to revolve only around Yuuri, the crowd only getting louder as he gradually started a routine, slipping and sliding against the pole while notably scanning through the herd of people around him and eventually stopping cold on the seat that was dead center in front of him.

Viktor could feel the air leaving his body, the room suddenly seemed as if it were lit on fire, and as he watched the performer finish his preliminary moves, he could have sworn this was a dream.

With a narrowing of his eyelids, a blown kiss, and a wink, Katsuki Yuuri visibly shook the man from the trance he found himself under, but only succeeded in shooting him straight into another one, one which had his eyes lock onto his body for the rest of the evening.

Katsuki found himself affected as well, infected, it seemed, with a sharp smirk that didn’t leave his lips for the entirety of his performance, a grin that was firmly pointed at Nikiforov, who found it impossible to keep his back against the chair.

Normally, Yuuri kept people from hovering over the stage, his stage, but as the stricken man inched himself closer and even bent further over, he not only allowed it, but gave him something to look at.

If Viktor hadn’t already felt as if he was knocking on Heaven’s door, he would certainly have started pounding as Yuuri shook his leather clad ass directly at him, improvising a slide around and down the pole in order to work the move into the end of his routine.

With a final, shared glimpse at one another, both staring directly into the other’s eyes, Katsuki Yuuri strutted away, vanishing along with the beat as the lights came up and the world continued to spin.

For Nikiforov, however, things remained frozen for some time after the act, his mind locked on the dancer and his performance and the way his body moved, his heart pounding and pulsing in his chest as he clutched it and found himself barely able to blink.

For the first time in a very long time, he felt a passion seep into his chest and take root, a spark long thought dead, or dying at the very least, he felt what he believed was inspiration, interest, he finally found and felt what he had been missing for so long.

Viktor Nikiforov, for all his travels and struggles, finally felt love.

Chapter Text

Sunlight peeked in through the blinds and illuminated the small hotel room, lighting the majority of it up as a lump in the bed stirred and a pillow was pulled and tossed to the left side of the mattress.

Viktor Nikiforov has now spend upwards of a week in Japan, though it was more of him spending time at the Ice Castle, and more specifically, the back room of the Ice Castle.

Further still, his focus was still on the leather clad man who had so rightfully stolen it several nights ago, a part of him lingering in that moment for the entirety of the week, even despite his increasingly frequent visits.

He’d gone back the next day, and then the next day, and then two times after that, three times the following day, and so on, each time waiting for and watching Katsuki Yuuri and the spellbinding performance he put on, each one more effective than the last.

Viktor rolled in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he felt the now familiar feeling beating in his chest, the feeling he got any time his thoughts remained on Yuuri, the fluttering of his heartbeat and the odd gasp of air that seemed to be stuck in his throat.

He remained in place for several minutes, just as he had the last few days, seemingly stuck in his mattress with nothing more than Katsuki on his mind and a light blush on his face.

With a breath, the man lifting the blanket overtop of him up and allowed his recently awoken pet to climb back out of the bed and take a spot next to him, laying on his hand as it’s master remained silently motionless, save for the petting motion his fingers made against the dog’s soft fur.

Everything about the performer stuck out to him, the way the tone of the room shifted, the scents and sounds and how it felt as if the man was doing his pole dancing exclusively for Viktor’s entertainment.

Surely, this wasn’t true, at least, that’s what Nikiforov tried to convince himself of, along with how simply ridiculous the whole situation was, though the inner debate was short, thanks to the evidence to the contrary.

The movements of certain body parts, the winks, the kisses, every day and night, each time, they were all the same, infused with the same level of feeling, and even passion, as the first ones.

Viktor didn’t just see Yuuri’s body and actions, he felt them deep in his chest, the performance ruining him as much as any shake of his hips or flash of his chest did, and the fact that he was getting all of it, the physical and the emotional, made it all the sweeter.

It also kept him in bed late, his thoughts unwavering and unable to move on to anything of important, much less something like getting dressed or getting out of his rented room in a timely pace.

Eventually, though, the lovestruck choreographer mustered up the ability to get to his feet, leaving his dog to rest in his place as he prepared for his day, taking extra care to perfect his appearance before heading out and making his way back to the club.

For as late in the day it was, Viktor managed to arrive early, just as he had been doing for some time now, and he used this opportunity to take a seat at the bar that was off to the side of the room.

He’d found it somewhat amusing how this back half of the establishment slowly filled up as hours ticked off the clock, noting how many fellow regulars attended, though he now had to count himself in with that group, given how many times he found himself in the building in the last few days alone.

His usual drink was now that of sake, but he kept himself on a tight leash, only drinking a maximum of three, depending on the time when he showed up, if only because he didn’t want to lose his focus on the impending performance.

Nikiforov let out a breath as he checked the wall clock, which he noted was a few minutes fast, as the time told on his phone didn’t line up, though it wasn’t like either made time speed up too much, instead, every moment he wasn’t in his seat was one that felt like it went on far too long.

“Ah! Yurio!” Viktor gasped out, having been reminded of his phone, which he’d failed to check for several days now, and hurriedly pulling it from his pocket it and flicking it on.

“52…” He quietly spoke to himself, looking at the messages and voicemails he’d received from what was his client and their coaches, most of them sure to be angry texts and questions about where he was.

It might not have been responsible, but he stuck the device back into his pocket and returned to his drink, closing his eyes for several moments as he decided on dealing with that battle at a later date and instead kept his lovelorn attentions in the present.

“Viktor Nikiforov…” A confident voice rang out from his side, instantly heating up his face and hitting him with a familiar, fiery presence, both mentally, and from a quick slap of his hand across his bottom.

“You come here often? Though, I guess I already know the answer to that...” Katsuki Yuuri searingly spoke, leaning over the bar and tilting his head over to the clearly, increasingly flustered man, his eyelashes fluttering as he smiled over at him.

“Wh-What? I….” Viktor was starstruck, unable to form more than a single word as he blinked rapidly and clutched his glass tightly, his heart rate spiking as he suddenly had trouble standing up.

Time froze again, everything aside from the pounding in his chest seemed to totally stop and the air was sucked out of the room, the feeling was more intense than before, and it felt as if it could end Viktor’s existence right then and there.

Instead of fainting or worse, however, the choreographer forced a swallow and stood his ground, albeit in silence, doing little more than staring into the performer’s brown eyes, losing himself in his gaze.

He was so lost, in fact, that Yuuri had to take his right hand and slide it over and lift it off the bar to get him to snap back to reality, his head shaking from side to side as another, harsh swallow came and went.

“My friend told me you were here, but, if you’re looking to see me on the pole again, you’ll have to wait, though he’s just as good as I am.” Yuuri spoke, explaining the reasoning behind the name “Phichit Chulanont.” above the stage today, instead of his.

“I actually have off today, but...you should call me, sometime.” Katsuki seductively spoke, pulling a piece of folded paper from the brim of his pants and placing it in Viktor’s hand, wrapping his fingers around it before releasing him.

Nikiforov could only watch as the man shot him another wink and made a phone motion with his hand, inadvertently staring as he watched him confer with Phichit before leaving the building, the heat of Yuuri’s voice unfreezing him and turning him into a standing puddle within seconds.

His smooth words reverberated in Viktor’s head for several minutes afterwards, leaving him speechless as he continued sipping from his glass, eventually finishing it off and ordering another round with barely a nod.

The choreographer stayed in that spot well into the evening, unable to even keep track of his drinks, let alone the time, and only after the announcer came over the microphone announcing Katsuki’s fill-in did he manage to step away, practically bolting for his hotel room.

Katsuki Yuuri’s impromptu meeting had managed to keep the effects of his several drinks away for most of the night, instead infecting Viktor with a heated, burning feeling, one that left him sitting on the side of his mattress and staring at the phone he placed on the stand, giving glances to the paper in his hand as the bed creaked underneath of him.

While he wasn’t sure what to do, he knew what he wanted to do, but with a countless amount of sake in his system and his nerves overloading, he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.

The thought of calling Christophe entered his mind, maybe he could search out advice from the only friend he had in the area, but it didn’t stay in his mind for long, instead it was quickly replaced with the memory of the hot breath that had hit his neck just minutes ago.

At least, he thought it had been minutes, but after pulling up his phone and seeing even more missed messages, he soon realized that night had taken the sky and the majority of the city had gone to sleep, he had been out for far longer than it seemed.

Only now did the effects of his time at the bar truly hit him, causing him to get tipsy and uneasy, the room subtly swirled around him as he gripped the blanket he was sat upon and his gaze focused in on the telephone.

This was a bad idea, terrible, this would backfire, unfurling the piece of paper and entering the written numbers into his phone was not going to end well for him, there was no chance this was going to happen.

There was dialing, there was ringing, there was even a ringback tone that sounded like the song Yuuri had danced to several days in a row, and before Viktor knew it, there was a voice, a hot, smooth voice.

“Hello? This is Katsuki Yuuri, who’s this?” The performer spoke, even his general tone causing issues on the opposite end of the phone line as words attempted to escape the choreographer again.

“Y-You actually picked up! I...Hi! I-I’m, ah, it’s...It’s Viktor!” Nikiforov stuttered out, his free hand reaching back and planting on his pet, using its fur as stress relief as he struggled to keep himself upright.

“Oh, hey! I, hah, I was about to go to sleep, but I’m glad you called.” Yuuri replied, the sound of a bed creaking coming through as he presumably pulled himself out of his blankets.

“Ah, is this a b-bad time? Should I call back tomorrow?” Viktor nervously spoke back, his eyes staring over at what they could see of the phone pressed against his ear.

“Oh no, it’s fine, really, it’s okay.” The man warmly spoke, the slight grogginess in his voice fading as he audibly cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay, so uh...Uh...H-How’re you doing?” Nikiforov asked, a mild shake coursing through his body as what was happening finally began to set into his mind as reality and not some sort of drunk fever dream.

“Oh, I’m terrific, how about you?” Katsuki responded in his smoother tone, the voice that sent shivers down the man’s spine and kept him locked at the Ice Castle, the voice that could have just as easily ended his life as it could save it.

“Ah...I-I’m...I’m...How was your um, your day?” Viktor questioned, unable to answer both from a lack of bodily function, and a fear that he might end up being a bit too honest with his reply.

The phone went silent for a moment, there wasn’t a dial tone or anything, but it was clear that the man on the other end of the line had gone quiet, leading the dancer to check his phone to make sure it hadn’t died or dropped the call.

“Say, Mr. Nikiforov...Do you like me?” Katsuki suddenly asked, putting on as seductive a voice as he could, causing a blush to form on Viktor’s face and darken as his inquiry set in.

“I...Y-Yes, yes I do.” He replied without a second thought, his mind practically melting down as he attempted to blame his outburst of an answer on the amount of sake he had consumed, though he’d never be totally sure of the cause.

“Well, in that case, would you like to go on a date with me?” Yuuri added on, his voice still soft and heated as Nikiforov collapsed backwards onto the bed with a notable thud sound.

His heart raced and his body gave up, he felt as if he was going to explode any moment now, or that he’d wake up back in Russia, or some sort of divine intervention would occur, but after a few rapid blinks and stammers, he soon realized that he already was in the presence of the divine

“Ye-Yes, please.” He finally spoke, his voice rough and scratchy as he found himself fighting for air, eyes rolling up into his head as he found himself in the exact same position he was in this morning.

“Great! I’ll send you the details whenever I wake up, okay?” Katsuki replied with ease, as if he knew exactly what he had done to the man and couldn’t be prouder of it, getting a mutter of approval back.

“Goodnight, Viktor.” He added before eventually ending the call, chuckling before the dial tone kicked in and he left the choreographer a mumbling, flustered mess of a being for several minutes afterwards.

It took a ding from his phone to get him to stir again, even if he was content with just passing out and spending the rest of his days sleeping with the warm feeling he had in his chest, he knew he couldn’t stay there forever.

After undressing and taking his usual steps to prepare for sleep, albeit in a shorter, shakier manner, he returned to his place on the bed, pulling his dog up and onto his chest as he stared up at the darkened ceiling above him.

“Makkachin, I...I think I’m in love with a stripper.” Viktor spoke as he felt himself finally starting to come to terms with his situation and his feelings, letting the happy realization take hold in the form of a smile as he was licked across the face.

Chapter Text

With an audible groan followed by a mild shriek, Viktor awoke by pushing himself, and, by accident, his pet, off the bed, unsure of how long his night lasted after his intense discussion came to an end.

The first thing he did was check his phone, worrying that he may have called someone else, or worse, rang Katsuki again, the mere thought of him being in a delirious, tipsy state talking to anyone was enough to scare him.

He anxiously checked his texts, almost getting a breath of relief out before realizing that there was, in fact, an unread message, and from a contact he’d never seen in his phone before at that.

The contact was titled “Hot Ass”, and the message they’d sent, directions to a place near Hasetsu Station, told him exactly who they actually were.

Viktor then dropped the phone and planted himself firmly against his pillows again, groaning as he shoved his head further downwards and almost wished that the mattress could swallow him hole.

“Ah! Wait!” He spoke to himself, quickly reclaiming his device and turning it back on, remembering exactly what he and Katsuki had planned just several hours prior, and fearing just how long he’d slept.

The time that was sent was that of 11:30 in the afternoon, and as he flicked his finger down and exposed himself to the current time, his jaw could have dropped, he had little over 30 minutes to get himself dressed and out the door.

Nikiforov raced through his small hotel room, flinging and tossing garments all over the place as he searched for as perfect an outfit as he could find, regretting not bringing more as nothing seemed to fit.

Eventually, after a horrifying 10 minutes ticked off the clock, he decided on a combination of a cyan sweater and black jacket, and with a flick of a comb through his mussy hair, he was out the door and hurriedly on his way.

He tried not to show any signs of exhaustion or the slight hangover he might have had, though that might have also been due to his activities the night before, taking in a few large breaths as he approached the predetermined spot.

“Huh…” The man pulled his phone out and checked the time again, noting that he had actually been several minutes late, the possibility that he accidentally stood up the performer was enough to make him wince, but before the fear could set in, a voice rang out from behind him.

“Hey! Viktor, over here!” They spoke, getting his attention with ease, but quickly giving him a confused expression as he examined the figure, his voice not matching the person it was attached to.

They had glasses, a brown scarf, a buttoned up jacket, thin pants, and their hair was down, it was as if this was a totally different person from the pole dancer he’d been pining for, but as they stepped up and placed a hand on the choreographer’s shoulder, he was assured that, despite his doubts, they were one and the same

“Y-You look totally different…” Viktor let out somewhat quietly, still eyeing over the man who stood before him with a slight feeling of bewilderment in his mind.

“Heh, y-yeah, that’s because, well, I’m not all dolled up.” Katsuki Yuuri calmly spoke, smiling widely and warmly as he pushed his glasses up after clearing them of some fog that had formed on the lenses.

“I...I can’t exactly walk around in public areas looking like that, you know.” He added, again chuckling as a mild blush spread across his face for a few moments.

“Yeah, that’s...Ah, s-sorry if I kept you waiting!” Viktor finally started back, shifting the topic and placing both of his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders without so much as a second thought.

“Oh, it’s no worry, really, but how about we go get our lunch? I’m starving.” The man replied, keeping his smile going as he nodded off in a direction and began leading the both of them that way.

“Of course, yes, th-that’s what we’re doing, yes!” Nikiforov said back, doing a bad job of keeping his nerves under control as they made for an open, somewhat crowded cafe that was off in the distance.

“It’s kinda new, and a little expensive, so I understand if you see the menu and leave.” Katsuki spoke in an innocent, jokey tone, keeping his left near the small of Viktor’s back as the two moved steadily across the pavement.

“Ah, don’t worry about that, no price is too expensive, not for me, anyway.” The choreographer replied with as smooth a remark as he could manage, flashing a smirk of his own over to Yuuri as he mimicked his actions by planting a hand on his upper back.

The establishment was somewhat small, with most of the interior dedicated to booths and chairs, most of which were filled up, but after placing their shared order, the two easily found seats just outside of the building, sitting under an umbrella and ignoring the cold as best they could.

“So what brings the Viktor Nikiforov all the way to Japan, anyway?” Yuuri eventually spoke, breaking the silence that had been filled with staring and the odd giggle, before taking a sip from his straw.

“Ah, well, I haven’t been too sure, really, not until lately anyway. I’ve mostly been just...traveling” Viktor warmly answered, having come to terms that this was, in fact, his current reality and more easily speaking than earlier, for the time being at least.

“Oh, may I ask what’s changed?” Katsuki followed up, again sounding as if he knew exactly what he was doing by asking such a question.

“Um...Well, I...I have a friend, Chris, he said the Castle was a good time, and it really has been, sorta took my mind off everything else.” The man explained, not necessarily wanting to lie, but figuring that he had to, just this once, if he wanted to live through the day.

“Christophe? He’s a fun guy, I was surprised the few times he took the stage, he’s great on the pole.” The performer replied, thankfully going for the baited change in topic and keeping his date from squirming too much.

Their mild discussion and talk tapered off after some time, as did their drinks, and though Viktor was more than willing to buy another round, the two only made it halfway through it before Yuuri piped up with a proposal.

“Say, I’m getting a little bored, how about we rent a room for a few hours and do some karaoke?” Katsuki asked, a familiar, sly look on his face as he twirled the straw in his glass around for several seconds.

“Oh, I...I don’t think I’m too great that, but sure!” Viktor replied without too much thought, though, he likely would have agreed to anything that left the lips that were sitting across from him.

After paying the bill and leaving a tip, the two gathered their things and made for the nearest karaoke center, taking a cab along the way before finally finding one that matched their current needs.

“Feel free to get anything you want, you know.” Viktor spoke as he finished a registration form and inched back from the counter, placing a snack and drink order as his date did similarly.

Before he knew it, drink and food in hand, the door behind him closed and he was soon locked in a small, benched room, a TV set with scrolling words being set up by his date as he organized a few small things on the table in the middle of the room and took a seat.

Yuuri went through what he dubbed a “warm up song” with ease, watching as Nikiforov smiled through his entire performance, thoroughly impressed and entranced with how his vocal abilities seemed to match those of his dancing.

“Don’t be afraid to join me up here, by the way.” Katsuki remarked as the lyrics came to an end and he began to prepare another song, rolling his finger upwards as he encouraged his date to take the floor next to him.

“I-I’m really not that good at singing, especially compared to you.” Viktor replied, waving his hands in front of his face as he anxiously smiled and shook his head from side to side.

“Aw, it’ll be fun, c’mon...I won’t judge.” The man replied in a sweet tone of voice that practically convinced Nikiforov on the spot, and after a quick downing of the last swirl in his glass, he rose to his feet and took a spot off to the left side of the room.

“History Maker? I haven’t heard this one in a while, g-good choice though.” He remarked as he watched the title fade in on the screen and a few visual effects take place as a music video began to play.

“It’s a personal favorite, and it means a lot to me, so I’m glad you like it.” Yuuri smoothly said back, a smirk lodged in the corner of his mouth as he shot a wink towards his date and the lyrics of the song started to kick in.

Sure, his talents in no way matched those of his singing partner, but Viktor still managed to keep up, taking every other line as Katsuki took the lead, nodding and smiling his approval and even laughing a few times, though Nikiforov didn’t take it personally if those chuckles were at his flubs, even laughing some himself as he found himself tripped up every now and then.

“Don’t stop us now, moment of truth!” Yuuri confidently sung as he swayed near the man, setting the room alight with his voice as the words seemed to flow from him with a smooth ease, only working to further cement the feeling that was resurging in the choreographer’s chest.

“We were born to make history!” Viktor followed up, finally seeming to have found a certain level in his own tone that at least somewhat matched Katsuki’s, the two still inching closer as they had done through the majority of the chorus.

With a few more seconds and a few more repeated lines, the beat of the song started to fade and both men had dropped their microphones down to their sides, with the performer still humming it as he placed a leg between Viktor’s and shook his body slightly.

He went on and Nikiforov simply went along with it, laughing and smiling as a tinge of red seemingly started to infect his face and the room felt as if it was shrinking, his breath hitching and he took note of a certain feeling that was moving up and down against his leg.

With a flick of his wrist, Katsuki removed his glasses and pushed his hair up, easily slipping into the appearence he often had at the Ice Castle, and took a handful of Viktor’s sweater as he somewhat wrapped around the man.

It was in these brief moments that Viktor felt as if he truly wasn’t going to make it through the day, and as his face got hotter and his pants got tighter, he found himself unable to do anything more than let Yuuri push him against the back wall and pin him there, keeping the now audibly groaning mess of a man still as he leaned in close.

“Why did you agree to this date, huh?” His voice was husky and sensual, sending shivers up and down the choreographer's spine as he involuntarily writhed and shifted around, trying desperately not to let on that anything was happening to him below the waist.

“I-I...I just…” Viktor weakly let out, mind turning to mush as he felt Katsuki’s hand lift his chin up and watched him inch about as close as he could to his face, biting on his lower lip and narrowing his eyes as he stared into Nikiforov’s.

“C’mon, speak up...I want to know what caused you to say yes so quickly.” The dancer spoke, unable to help a smirk as he lightly brushed the side of his face against the shivering, flustered mass that he kept in place.

With his eyes shut intensely and his mind racing to find some sort of explanation that didn’t involve a confession, Viktor felt as if he lost control of his own body, and as a whimper pressed through his lips and into the room, he was sure that he had.

“Oh, wow...Is that your answer? Can you say that again?” Yuuri tauntingly spoke, stepping his right leg further up and bending it some, pressing his kneecap gently up against the middle of the man’s pants.

“Nh-No, I mean, that’s not...I-I just...I thought you were...amazing, on stage, and...ah-and, I just...wanted to see you…” Nikiforov fumbled out, wincing as he readied for his barely coherent explanation to be destroyed.

“Is that so? Because...I think I’m getting a different story, elsewhere…” The teasing only got worse as he applied pressure to his crotch, licking his lips as he slid his hand from his chin and down to the end of his sweater, shoving it under the garment with ease.

“I don’t think you just wanted to see me...daddy...” He added on, eliciting stifled, quieted moan after moan as he moved his left hand down and free the button of his pants and tugged the man’s zipper downwards.

“Wh-What are you...d-doing, I-I...ah…” Viktor mumbled out, face dark red as he could practically feel sweat dripping down it, prying his eyelids open as he felt the performer suddenly stop and step back.

“Wait, I thought you...I’m a stripper, and all day, you’ve…And now you’re, well, as stiff as a board, and...” Yuuri started as he analyzed the mess he made, feeling some regret come on as he nearly ruined a man who didn’t seem to have the intentions he’d imagined, at least, not yet anyway.

“Y-Yes, I do, and I...er, I really do like you, I just…” Nikiforov picked up, shaking himself off some before fixing his pants and taking a step in towards the dancer and placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to stop him from falling too far into what he imagined were some darker emotions.

“I’m really impressed with you, all of you, the way your body moves when you perform, it’s like...like your body is making the music, to me anyway.” He explained as best he could, composing himself and nudging the man’s head upwards with a finger to his chin.

That remark brought a smile back to Yuuri’s face, and after the two took a seat back on the bench on the opposite wall together, the tension, sexual and otherwise, started to lift from the room.

“It’s not that I might not want to...erm…” The choreographer attempted to continue, fighting every urge to finish the sentence with the word “yet” as he comforted his date as best he could manage with as little experience he had in this sort of situation.

“I just want to...see you, to study you first, to...fully experience you, because you truly are an...intense, amazing experience of a human being from what I've only barely seen, Katsuki Yuuri, and I...I want to train you, refine you, so that everyone knows how...deeply wonderful you are, I-I want to support you.” Viktor calmly spoke, the words seemingly flowing naturally from his mouth, stroking his hand up and down the dancer’s clothed shoulder as he smiled warmly at him.

“W-Wha, wait, I…Y-You’ve been like my...my...idol, when I was growing up, y-you're why I'm even dancing even if it isn't th-the same as you did, I-I...” Was all Yuuri managed in reply, a blush now befalling his face as the reality of his own situation began setting in and the realization of what was being proposed took root in his mind.

“Well, ah, what do you say, then? Can I try to...help make your routine into something that shows you off as much as you deserve? Can I...spend more time with you? Maybe even be your...choreographer?” Nikiforov questioned happily, breathing easier than he had been recently.

“Y...Yes…” The man muttered back after a few moments, a teardrop splashing down onto the table in front of them as he placed his hands on his face and rubbed it heavily, clearing his eyes to the best of his abilities in order to quickly fill his vision with the silver haired man again.

“Yes, please...H-Help me show everyone wh-what you see in me.” Katsuki finally managed to properly speak, his voice welling and his throat dry as he stared at the smile across his choreographer’s face, leaning into his arm as he embraced him tenderly, the idea that someone who had been so meaningful to him from a distance closing that gap of their own choosing being more than enough to bring about his softer side.

“Ah...G-Gladly…” Viktor softly muttered as he wrapped his other arm around the performer, gripping around him firmly and keeping his grin up as he held onto him for as long as he needed to, cherishing the slowness of a moment for the first time in a long time.

Chapter Text

There was no denying that Katsuki Yuuri had a natural, raw talent, the way he handled himself on the stage for as many years as he had could attest to this, not that anyone had ever argued or accused anything otherwise.

Which is why, he thought, being critiqued and corrected affected him in the ways that it did, or at least, it was the only explanation he could figure out, anyway.

“You have to get both feet against the pole and bend your knees further before kicking your leg out, Yuuri, and try not to touch the ground.” Viktor told him, the words still echoing in his mind as he finished some early morning preparations.

“Like this, right?” Yuuri had replied, fixing his posture and pulling himself upwards before quickly attempting to correct himself and sliding down on the pole in as close to the pose his coach imagined as he could.

“Closer, your left leg seems to lag a bit behind, like this.” Nikiforov spoke, taking a step up onto the stage and helping his pupil get back up before taking hold of his thigh with his right hand, gently lifting and extending it as the man slid back towards the ground again.

“Better, never be afraid to try something that might surprise your crowd.” He warmly said as their eyes lingered on one another, smiling widely as he kept his palm loosely wrapped against the clothed leg, bringing it to the top of his knee as he slowly moved his arm back.

“Th-Thanks…” Katsuki mustered out, losing himself in his choreographer’s blue eyes for a moment, feeling his heart rate increase as the light touch made it’s way down to his shin before finally dropping off entirely.

He’d had many sessions of various kinds with many different people, most all of them strangers, and he’d never felt this way, the swelling in his throat, the jump in his heartbeat, the feeling of a slight sweat coating his palms as he stared back at the man he’d spent most of his morning with.

Something about this was different, and not just because of how much he had looked up to Nikiforov, either, there was something in the way he spoke to him, the way he handled him, how he treated him, that made him feel as if he were the only person in the room at any moment in time.

“We’ve been at this for hours, I think we can stop there for now and uh, pick it up later, yeah?” Viktor’s warm tone brought him back to reality, his words only adding more fuel to his current inner fire.

“O-Of course, yeah, tonight’s going to be busy anyway, I’ll probably need the rest.” Yuuri replied with a chuckle in his voice, peeling himself away from the pole and back onto his own two feet, fixing up his hair and pushing his glasses up his face as he walked to the edge of the stage.

“Oh? And what’s tonight going to be so busy for, huh?” His coach inquired, shooting him a quick, inquisitive glance as he stepped up next to him and eased an arm around his shoulders.

“Ah, it’s just like...A doubles thing, we do it sometimes, usually brings in an even bigger crowd than usual.” The pupil answered, placing a hand on the back of his head as he fought the urge to blush as much as he could.

“You should have said something, I would have been fine if we started another time, I don’t want you to be tired for something like that.” Viktor said, still using his gentle tone as he dropped his hand down the man’s back.

“Oh, it’s not until late late tonight, I-I’ve got plenty of time to rest, don’t worry!” Katsuki explained, doing everything in his power to keep Viktor from being concerned or upset, no matter how minimal the matter might be.

“Well then, I guess you should get to work on that rest, then, though I’m sure you’ll be great tonight.” The choreographer spoke with a minor relief and slight giggle to his voice, the fear of exhausting his current student subsiding as quickly as it came as he turned and took the man by both shoulders.

Both stared again, giving plenty of smiles and approving chuckles, neither knowing what to do about the things that were quickly and harshly stirring within themselves but knowing that something was building up, but it was to something that neither man was too familiar with.

It was Nikiforov who acted first, leaning himself slowly in as his hands slid down the dancer’s back, bringing him in closer as his head tilted slightly to one side and soon brought his lips to Katsuki’s cheek, planting a warm, gentle kiss onto his flesh before quickly dropping back and taking a step off the stage.

“I-I’ll...See you later tonight, Yuuri.” Was the last thing that he’d said, shooting a wave in his direction before jetting towards the exit, leaving both of them nursing hot, red faces as their individual days resumed.

The events had been on constant replay in Yuuri’s head since then, the hours passing quickly as the event drew nearer and nearer, while the day reached its midpoint and Viktor had been nowhere to be found, an uncommon thing, even with the things that had transpired.

“Hey, everything alright? You look a bit, uh, sweaty already, that’s not till later, you know.” Phichit spoke playfully from behind him, taking a stand off to his left and leaning in towards the mirror before placing an arm around his neck and resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Ah, y-yeah, I’m...I’m fine, just thinking is all.” Yuuri replied after a moment, needing some time to orientate to the current reality as the images and thoughts of his early morning endeavors still danced in his head.

“It’s okay if you’re not, if you want to talk about it, we should do it before the show tonight.” The dancer said back, gently rubbing and petting on Katsuki’s shoulder in attempt to comfort his fellow performer.

“Nah, just...just need to practice some more, clear my head.” The man declined, smiling to his left before walking to the practice pole located in the middle of the backroom the two were standing in and taking hold of it firmly.

Though the music wasn’t playing, the spins and dips Yuuri made could have made it seem like it was, his body nailing most of the early moves in the routine while taking the necessary pauses that Phichit would act in the final performance.

Despite his best efforts to simply play Eros in his head and ignore the last 24 hours, the thoughts crept back slowly, winding from the kiss on his cheek all the way back to Viktor’s offer, the way he spoke to him, how he treated him, his genuine interest in his very existence, feelings flooding over him to the point where his hand slipped from the metal and he very quickly ended up on his front with a loud thud.

With little more than a gasp, Katsuki pulled himself off the floor and darted out of the room, leaving Phichit sitting with his eyes wide and his own mind wandering, before he quickly decided on following his friend out, finding him already planted at the bar.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I haven’t seen you slip up like that in a long time, you never do that anymore.” Chulanont spoke, his seat briefly spinning as he took the chair that was closest to the nearly-wallowing, somewhat visibly upset man who had just finished ordering a drink.

“I-I’m fine, okay?” Yuuri replied through gritted teeth, swallowing harshly as his stomach felt sick and the room seemed as if it was burning up around him, though that was more his own, inner feelings burning him from the inside out.
“You’re not, I can tell, or have you forgotten how long I’ve known you?” Phichit spoke with a smile, trying to keep the mood calm as he waved off his fellow performer’s drink and instead spun his chair so that the two were facing one another.

Katsuki stumbled for a time, his attempts of simply ignoring the problem clearly not working, while his efforts to explain his situation took more energy than he would have thought, leaving him a stuttering mess for several minutes, until he finally managed a coherent, reasonable explanation.

“I...I met someone, h-he’s been coming here for a little while now, and...and I thought he just wanted to, you know, with my body...but he actually...I think he actually cares, and…” He trailed off, finding words hard to come by until his friend patted his palm on his back and was staring at him with his usual, bright smile.

“And he’s sort of like, my choreographer now, he’s going to teach me how to get even better, t-to show everyone what he sees…” Yuuri nervously spoke, feeling the urge to clutch at his chest as the feelings seemingly poured from his mouth.

“Wow, really? That’s great, do I know them? I’ve probably seen them around if they’re a regular, after all.” Chulanont questioned further, much to Katsuki’s torment, as he watched his friend wince at the inquiry.

“It’s...It’s Viktor, Viktor Nikiforov…” He answered as he took a large swallow of air in, his face on fire as he found it impossible to look anywhere but the inside of his eyelids.

“Viktor Nikiforov’s teaching you!? That’s awesome!” Phichit exclaimed, leaping from his chair back onto his feet in response to such a revelation, grabbing the dancer’s shoulders and shaking him some as he was unable to control himself.

After managing to calm him down, and checking to make sure the thin crowd either didn’t care or didn’t hear with a few looks around the room, Yuuri got his friend back down in his seat and tried to bring the mood around him back to a more normal feeling.

“I just...I’ve never really...had this sort of thing happen, I don’t know how to handle it, and...and I’m anxious, and that’s messing with my performance, so I’m worried about tonight, and-” Yuuri explained, his blush widening before he was silenced with a finger to his mouth.

“Listen, Yuuri, you’re going to be fine, believe me, no matter what you’re feeling with Viktor, and the show, everything’s going to be fine. You’re always going to be amazing.” Phichit spoke, silencing his friend and beaming another smile at him as his eyes practically glinted at him.

“I...Thank you, Phichit...Thank you.” Was all that Katsuki managed to reply with, not that his fellow dancer minded, instead taking hold of him and wrapping him in a warm hug for several minutes before releasing him and making their way to the back again.

Though the words and assurances calmed him, the feelings still lingered, and as time ticked away from the clock and the main event of the evening drew near, Yuuri found himself still struggling to keep his head up, especially after occasional scans of the crowd proved fruitless, a struggle that lasted all the way until both men were facing the back of the curtain.

It had been almost an entire day, and the special event that he himself had hyped up was just minutes away, yet his coach was nowhere to be found, and had been totally absent through the entire day, something felt wrong.

Several ideas floated in and out of his head, most of them leading to fear and stress as voices called and told them just how long they had left until the two were set to take the stage and put on a show that was meant to be entertaining.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, I give you Phichit “The Thai Prince” Chulanont, and Katsuki “The Tastiest Katsudon” Yuuri!” The announcer rang out, the lights dimming and the audience going silent.

The beat of music soon crept in, a combination of sorts of both of the men’s songs slowly easing the crowd into the proper mood, and also giving the performers just a few more moments backstage.

“Hey, Yuuri, don’t sweat it, just remember what we practiced.” Phichit encouraged, glancing to his friend and shooting him a wink before striking his hand against his rear, getting a nervous chuckle and smile in return, both remaining until they finally stepped through the cloth.

Both came through in their matching outfits at the same time the beat of the song picked up, both taking a pole that had been fastened to either side of the stage, and both getting an enormous pop from the crowd before them.

Phichit worked through his moves as he did most everything else, energetically and with a smile, hardly breaking a sweat as he worked his body against and around the metal before him to near perfection.

Yuuri was keeping up to the best of his abilities, even outclassing Chulanont with a few spins and twirls, though his actions lacked the same flow of spirit, which was likely due to how distracted he was.

He’d managed to bury his thoughts for the most part, keeping them far below the surface, along with as much anxiety as he could store, but the concerning lack of Viktor was weighing on him, the fact that he’d been gone for an entire day, and was now missing a big performance, was enough to make Katsuki nearly crack.

Thankfully, Phichit picked up any slack that was left out as the performance went on, bringing out a flashier dip or slide whenever he felt that it was needed, both to keep the crowd pleased, and to have his friend’s back.

The middle part of the routine involved slipping gracefully by one another and acting out a move not dissimilar from what he had been practicing with his coach earlier in the day, working on their partner’s pole before repeating the slide and returning to their starting points.

As the move approached, however, the fear of failure and general mix of emotions began truly setting in, risking not only a drop in quality, but a total failure of the performance, something neither man on stage wanted, as evidenced by the concerned, worried expressions Yuuri was sending Phichit’s way, keeping similar faces on until he noticed the doors swing open in the back and a familiar form step through.

“Yuuri!” Viktor’s voice boomed, though it was easily excused as just being a patron in the crowd, his mere presence peaking the dancer up as he watched the man quickly rush towards the stage and work his way through the audience, placing himself in the front row with ease and a smile planted across his face.

It was as if all was right with the world, as Katsuki easily picked himself back up and more firmly and assertively worked his routine, his body soon becoming in tune with the music and with his fellow performer, who was readying for the major switch up.

With a grin and a nod, the two flowed perfectly, their chests sliding against one another’s before both wrapped around the other’s pole, with Phichit doing a spin and a wink with his free leg extended, and Yuuri all but nailing his move from practice, practically laying his body out to the audience as his leg stretched out and he dropped down just inches above the ground.

Truthfully, the move was only intended for one man in the audience, and after catching a glimpse while pulling himself up, he knew it worked wonders.

The rest of the routine worked almost flawlessly, both gliding against each other again before working through the rest of the song, spinning and dancing as if it were effortless, even teasing the crowd with a kiss that made even a certain choreographer blush.

As the song slowed to it’s end and their bodies both slid from the near tops of the poles to the ground, it was clear that everyone watching had been wowed, especially evidenced by the throwing of money onto the stage, of which Nikiforov may or may not have taken part in.

The two waved and bowed as they backed towards the curtain, though it closed in front of them just as Katsuki let out a slight gasp, noticing that his coach had again vanished and was nowhere in the room.

“I’m sorry I was so late!” Viktor greeted the performer as he rushed into the back, hugging him tightly as a bouquet of flowers he had brought dropped from his hands and he nearly knocked them both off their feet.

“I-I didn’t mean to make you worry, if I did, I was-” The man attempted to continue his explanation, his face reddened already, getting darker still as a warm, slightly sweat covered finger was pressed to his lips.

“I...I don’t care where you were, just...just tell me, d-did you like my performance? Did I...Did I do well?” Yuuri spoke, breathing somewhat heavily as he took the man by the shoulders and stared into his eyes again.

“I, ah, y-yes, of course...I-I thought you, uh, you looked very...h-hot, actually.” Viktor roughly spoke, finding himself getting flustered as he placed his hands on the man’s sides and inched closer towards his pupil’s face.

“I-Is that so, huh? I managed to surprise my audience then, eh?” Katsuki began his reply, his tone of voice shifting to the more husky, sensual one that had his choreographer shaking and twitching in his bed not too many nights before.

“Er, yes, I...I just wish I had seen the start of it, th-the whole thing, I mean.” Nikiforov eventually answered, maintaining a gradually shaky looking smile as it started to feel heated under his shirt collar.

“I’m sure someone...recorded it, maybe you can find it somewhere if you really want to, ah, use it later, hm?” The performer spoke, unable to help himself and planting a finger on his coach’s chin and halting his inward movement, his words only searing the man further as they were just inches away from one another.

“Y-Yuuri…” Was all Viktor had left to say, his face now a bright red and his lips pursed involuntarily, the pit in his stomach only feeling as if it were getting deeper by the second until he finally squeezed his hands around Katsuki’s sides and ended the gap between them.

Viktor kissed him deeply, wrapping him in heat as both of their eyes shut and Yuuri followed his lead, backing him against a wall as he took dominance in the lip-lock within a few moments, licking the insides of Nikiforov’s mouth as the man simply moaned his name back.

Had they not been in the back of the club with several people still just a curtain away from seeing, Yuuri would have acted on the impulse that throbbed in his brain and his pants, and Viktor likely would have done the same.

With a gasp and a harsh intake of air, the two eventually separated, panting more than any routine had made them before, staring longingly into the other’s fiery gaze as lips trembled and the sound of a camera clicking followed by hands clapping and word of congratulations came from Phichit’s direction.

It was as if the entire building went silent around them as they held firmly onto one another while their hearts pounded in their chests, neither knowing what to do or say next, but both looking equally disheveled and lost in the overflow of lusty, loving emotions.

Chapter Text

Hours could have passed between the moment their lips connected and when they finally separated and neither man would have known any better, the intoxicating taste and the thumping in their chests having made the kiss last as long as it possibly could.

The room was silent as they stared at one another again, their expressions ranging from loving, flustered, and anxious as words seemed unable to take root and they both remained speechless and in awe of one another for several minutes.

“We...We should g-get out of here…G-Go home, my house...” Katsuki nervously mustered out, his face a bright red and his gaze finally pulling away from his coach and dropping straight down onto the floor.

“B-But we have to...practice in the morning, we...we can’t…” Nikiforov eventually spoke in reply, still visibly dazed as he processed his trainee’s words and his palms seemingly twitched on their own before being removed from the man’s body.

“Nh-No, I mean...We should just, g-get some air and, ah, eat something, I-I haven’t eaten all day anyway, we can just...eat together.” Yuuri corrected, holding in his heated, panting breaths to the best of his abilities.

“Ah, yes! Eat, I haven’t, uh, I haven’t eaten yet either, I’ve just been...uh...w-we should do that, of course.” Viktor answered, eager to shift topics as he struggled containing his own feelings of want and need.

After the performer collected his few things and the choreographer was as set as he could have been, the pair left without so much as a word, both keeping a set distance from the other as they internally worried what they might do should they get closer again.

Viktor had never been so relieved to see a couch in his life, racing over to it and taking a seat on the far end after removing his shoes and coat, hands covering his lap as a measure of caution.

“S-So uh, what do you want to...to eat, handso-er, Viktor?” Yuuri asked from the kitchen, having practically made the smallish room his home for the time being as he checked through his cabinets.

“Well, what are you offer...what do you have, I mean?” The man replied, trying to watch his words as much as he was watching the movement hips that was happening just a few several feet away.

Both had a certain way with words that they needed to turn off, at least, for the time being, as they both inwardly fought against the bubbling, rising feeling that heated them both up at their cores, forcing it to the sidelines as they remained just a few feet apart for what felt like ages.

“I...I actually can make really good katsudon, it’s a uh, a family recipe, and it’s pretty er...tasty.” The dancer eventually answered, forcing himself to keep his tone of voice under control as he started prepping for a meal.

“Th-That’ll work, sure, if you say it’s good, then...I’m sure it’s great. Pretty funny how your stage name is Katsudon, and...you’re good at making it, huh?” His choreographer awkwardly commented with a nervous chuckle to his words, shifting his gaze around the nicely decorated room he was stationed in.

“Y-Yeah, my family is sorta popular for making it, and...I kinda needed a stage name, so I just went with that, s-since it sorta fit.” The pupil remarked back, an equally strange laugh in his throat as he went about his work in the kitchen, making sure he made the meal as perfect as he possibly could.

The two fell back on silence for several minutes as Katsuki cooked their food, save for a few remarks about the pictures of the performer’s family or the odd decoration that was hung up or drawn onto a wall, eventually ending as Nikiforov decided to simply distract himself with the warmly colored lamp that was sitting on a table off to his left.

With a word about the food being ready, Viktor was eventually back on his suddenly heavy feet and made his way to the dining area, admiring the nice presentation and mix of colors that was set up on the table as he took a seat across from his host.

“Oh, that’s right, drinks!” Yuuri exclaimed before he truly landed in the chair, jolting back up and quickly gathering two glasses and two bottles, more than happy for the extra time before having to go through more of the joyous angoy that staring at his coach would surely bring.

“U-Uh, what do you think? Is it...Any good? And uh, s-sorry, but this wine is kinda...all I’ve got here, at the moment.” Katsuki said as he sat down, sliding a cup over towards the man and pouring some drink after receiving a nod of approval.

“Oh, it’s very well done, I’ve never really had this before, s-so I’m very impressed.” Viktor replied with a smile as he took a bite, an unfortunately sensual moan in his throat as he ate his food.

“Ah, I’m glad, then, sometimes I mess it up and have to make a whole new bowl, but I guess I got lucky this time.” Yuuri said, a matching grin on his face as he instead took a large sip from his glass and let out a breath.

The night continued on about as well as it could have for two men who had just kissed and hadn’t acknowledged it since, both eating quietly as their cups were hit with refill after refill, which is likely why the mood seemed to shift as they neared the end of the meal.

“I’m really, really glad you’re here, it’s really cool of you.” Katsuki commented as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, admittedly getting somewhat tipsy as he poured another drink for himself.

“Oh, Yuuri, t-trust me, you’re...you’re more than worth it.” Nikiforov genuinely said back, motioning for more of the slightly clear, bubbly substance himself before clinking his glass with his pupil’s and downing most of it in one go.

Despite the hazy, woozy feeling that was coming on, his words still had about as much impact as they would have otherwise, easily causing a blush to form as he pushed his glasses up his face and merely smiled.

“I...I should probably go, soon, it’s...it’s getting late.” Viktor spoke, sliding his clean dish to the side and standing up, fixing his shirt some before stepping himself away from the table.

“Wah-Wait, don’t go...We can still…” Yuuri said in response, getting himself up and over to his choreographer as quickly as his dazed self could, grabbing a handful of his shirt and leaning forward.

“No, no, it’s okay, w-we can do that later, w-we have to practice in the morning.” The man replied, chuckling as he held his hands up slightly and took another step backwards.

“Mmh, no, I don’t mean that, I mean like...we should just...practice, right now, get it out of the way, you know?” The dancer offered, his body subtly wobbling as he inadvertently stretched the fabric in his hands some.

He may not have been as inebriated as his student clearly was, but as he shook his head and was led across the room and back onto the couch, he wasn’t so sure he would have turned him down regardless, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t have a good point of getting it out of the way early, after all.

“Ju-Just pretend that the music is playing and stuff, I don’t know where I left my CDs.” Katsuki spoke with a giggle, clearing the table in front of the couch off before climbing on top of it himself.

Nikiforov couldn’t help but laugh as well, his hand raised to his mouth as he watched the performer slowly get into his usual routine, finding himself somewhat surprised as he nailed certain moves, even with the lack of a pole and how tipsy he believed he was.

The choreographer simply sat back and enjoyed for a moment, offering a few tips and remarks whenever the man slipped up, though it was obvious that they likely wouldn’t have much impact, especially as Katsuki ended up nudging the table closer and focusing more on flaunting his backside than anything else.

It only took him a few minutes more to end up just inches away from practically sitting in his coach’s lap, swaying and shaking his hips as he occasionally dipped himself down and intentionally grinded on the man’s thighs, letting out subtle whimpers and moans as he moved in tune with nonexistent music.

Viktor let a few sounds of his own out at the feeling as well, whining from his throat as his heart rate steadily increased and his pants grew tighter, biting on his lower lip as he tried in vain to resist the urge of planting a hand on Yuuri’s ass.

A hand that was quickly slapped away at that, with the performer dropping his glasses and pushing his hair up before shooting a glance at his mentor that likely could have turned any man into the slightly drooling mess that was on his couch.

After firmly pressing his rear back at Nikiforov’s crotch and letting out an intentionally loud moan, Katsuki spun himself around on his heels and stood up straight, a seductive look on his face as he brought his knees around either side of the man and took a seat on his lap.

“Did I do good, coach?” Yuuri playfully asked, knowing full well, even with his somewhat inebriated mind, what he was doing, and as he subtly rocked himself back and forth, he found the feelings and expressions he was getting almost as intoxicating as he drink was.

“Y-Yes, you...You’d get an A+, i-if I graded you I mean, er...g-great job.” Viktor huskily answered, attempting to follow along with the lighter, flirty tone while struggling with how hard it was to breath, and how hard things felt between his legs, doing anything he could to bury the dizzying urges he was facing.

“Oh, yay! I-I did it! Nh-Now I get a prize...” Katsuki teased further, feeling parts of his own body twitching almost in unison with those of Viktor’s as he leaned himself inwards, slowly tilting his head to one side and holding it for a moment, sucking in the air that his choreographer let out before shoving his lips to his again.

The heated, intense feeling resurfaced in full force, even despite their tipsy states of mind, the kiss somewhat sloppier than their first as Nikiforov wrapped his hands in the performer’s hair and rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, before letting Katsuki do the same with his.

This session lasted even longer than the one earlier, and it quickly subsided any certain thoughts either man may have had as they slowly dropped over onto one side, muttering and moaning as their bodies came to rest on the couch together.

It eventually broke, but neither had the energy nor desire to speak, instead satisfied with the pleasureful looks on their partner’s face as they inched as close as they could get, arms wrapping around one another and yawns soon being shared.

“Gh-Goodnight, Viktor.” Katsuki eventually said, ruffling up his coach’s hair before planting his mouth against his cheek and cuddling up again, staring into his eyes as long as he could.

“Mmh, goodnight, Y-Yuuri.” Nikiforov said back, mimicking his actions by firmly and warmly kissing across his forehead as the two slowly started to doze off in one another’s arms.

Chapter Text

Viktor’s eyelids slowly began to open as his consciousness gradually came back to him, the welcoming, comfortable sounds of birds chirping and wind gently blowing easing him out of his state of slight grogginess as he began to stir.

He hadn’t drank that much the night before, at least, he didn’t believe that he did, so he placed the blame of his current, minor headache on how he must have slept, which was even more evidenced by how he was somewhat jammed into the corner of the couch.

The man froze just as he lifted his head up from the cushion it had been planted on for countless hours, his pupils dilating and reality crashing down onto him he discovered that the blanket over his body wasn’t one of his own, and that there was a distinct lack of fur resting above his head.

He wasn’t at his own hotel room as he would have normally expected, he had never made it back, he didn’t even make it out the door, in fact, the images and memories he was quickly sifting through weren’t just dreams, they were reality.

He was in Yuuri’s house, on Yuuri’s couch, and covered with little more than one of Yuuri’s blanket and his underwear.

“About time you woke up, sleepy head.” Katsuki’s warm voice spoke as he reentered the room, looking fully clean and fresh as he organized a few things on his counter and picked up his work bag from a nearby chair.

“Y-Yuuri, I didn’t, er...Good morning, I mean.” Nikiforov nervously spoke, tightening the cloth around his body some as he worked an equally anxious smile onto his face and tried to act as collected as he could.

“My place so boring that you forgot where you were?” Yuuri joked back, hearing the tone of his voice and seeing the obvious signs on the man’s reddened face, easily deducing an issue he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with.

“Oh, n-no! I...I just...I guess we had a bit to drink last night, huh?” The choreographer replied, the warm gaze that he was staring up at helping him more fully settle down and ease back into a state of being calm.

“Heh, yeah, well...At least now I have to go to the store, pretty sure we sucked everything down.” His host responded, still grinning as he finished preparing himself for the day ahead without too much of a worry on his mind.

Viktor sat upright, wrapped in the blanket as he reclined back slightly on the couch, spotting the majority of his clothes under the table as he merely admired the almost serene look on his pupil’s face.

“H-Hey, Yuuri, did uh...Did we...do anything?” He nervously questioned after a moment, immediately feeling the awkwardness that came with such an inquiry, but knowing that his memory could possibly have gaps between the dancing on the table and his awakening.

“Ah, well...Not yet.” Katsuki spoke back with a chuckle to his voice, unable to help himself when it came to making his current guest squirm in place and blush just a little harder than he already was.

“L-Last night, I mean, did we do anything lah-last night?” Viktor corrected himself, shaking off the initial reply as he somewhat involuntarily hid his face behind the blanket that was covering his arm.

“No, no, don’t worry, I’d say that we just...er, had a more...normal kind of fun.” Yuuri replied, his more calm, welcoming smile returning as he pulled a coat over his shoulders and tied his shoelaces.

“That’s...That’s good, yeah, okay, just...normal fun…” The man muttered back, his words trailing off as he was reminded exactly what the definition of “normal fun” apparently was for a man with talents and an ass like Katsuki had.

“Anyway, uh, I have to go to work, b-but you can stay here as long as you want, I think I’ve still got a few eggs left in the fridge if you want to make breakfast, er, lunch by now, just lock up when you’re done.” The host said as he finalized his look and double checked all of his belongings.

“Ah, w-wait, did you eat anything? Have you eaten?” Nikiforov asked, partially out of concern, and partially because he wasn’t quite sure how to react to such a kind gesture other than simply burying his head in the cushion again.

“No, I...I was going to eat with you, but then, I didn’t, er, want to wake you, y-you do look really cute when you’re passed out, by the way.” Yuuri replied, a tinge of red hitting his own face as he stroked up the back of his neck.

“I...W-Well, thank you, f-for everything really, how about I swing by in a bit and we just...get you something to eat then?” The choreographer fumbled out, unable to do anything about the overcoming flustered feeling that was now spreading down his neck.

“That’ll work, s-sure, I’m...I have a shorter shift today, only one dance, sadly, but yeah, that should be fine.” The performer said back, unable to cope with the butterflies that started to fly in his stomach.

“I’ll see you in a few hours then, and hey, maybe we can still fit some real practice in later today, too.” Viktor remarked somewhat jokingly, finding a calmed center as he brightly smiled at his impromptu host.

“I guess training while we’re both...a bit tipsy doesn’t work as well, huh?” Yuuri said back, matching his mentor’s smile as he indulged in a momentary laugh with him and waved as he stepped out the door.

Despite his host’s exit, it still took the man a few minutes to get himself off the couch, his mind somewhat struggling to comprehend that this was all really happening, that his life wasn’t simply sitting down somewhere and correcting and judging someone else anymore, or even being judged by others.

It was more personal now than it had been for a long time, the bond he had grown and nurtured taking root firmly in his life, something that had made him feel the warmth that he once had when he performed across the globe, a rekindled emotion that wasn’t on any sport, but on a person instead, and one that felt similarly at that.

He wasn’t sure how the performer did it, but Katsuki Yuuri had steadily managed to bring a color that had been missing from his life back and totally reinvigorate it, turning it into something exciting and captivating, making it practically his own, just as he did with most things in his life, it would seem.

The feeling of allure and enticement that lasted for the majority of his day, from the time he pulled his pants back on and fastened his belt, all the way to when he felt it was time to leave the homely building, taking a spare key from a keyring with him as he left.

All the while, though, as much as he didn’t want to admit to it, he found himself lingering on certain feelings that he could remember from the night prior, and how hard it was to get through it in one piece, but as he made his way to the Ice Castle, he did his best to bury such things and simply maintain his peaceful demeanor, for as long as it would last anyway.

Viktor arrived just as it seemed like a performance was ending and the crowd dispersed into the rest of the backroom, unsure if it was Yuuri’s or someone else's, though he opted not to fret too heavily over the possibility and instead took up an empty seat and placed an order.

“Good to see you out of the house.” Katsuki’s warm, pleasant voice spoke as he stepped up from seemingly nowhere, beaming a smile as he sat in the chair next to the man and signaled for a drink of his own.

“Ah, Yuuri, was that you up there? Was I a bit late this time?” Nikiforov asked back in reply, shifting both his gaze and all of his attentions almost immediately off to his right where the performer was seated as he gave a quick glance over his nearly naked body, taking note of his leather choker and his thigh high boots and the immensely short shorts that wrapped around his waist and almost instantly, after taking it all in, finding himself fighting off a flustered feeling.

“Oh no, Phichit was the main event tonight, you didn’t miss anything.” He answered, adding an extra tinge of flirtatiousness to his last few words as he brought his hand from his armrest and over to his choreographer’s, resting it on top of his.

“I take it you’ve had a good day, er, night, then, huh?” His coach spoke, lovingly staring over at him and flipping his hand over to lace his fingers with his as two glasses were placed in front of them.

“You could say that, though I think it’s mostly because of how well I slept.” Yuuri spoke, his tone seemingly locked in it’s more sensual version as he lifted his drink up and clinked it with the man’s before taking a sip.

“Y-You do make a good pillow, by the way.” He added with a grin, causing Viktor to briefly consider Katsuki wrapping up against him as he likely did the night before, nearly eliciting a small, pleased moan, which he quickly stifled.

“Er, you’re on break, right? Or did your shift end?” Viktor attempted to shift topics, slightly fearful that he wasn’t being as successful in hiding his inner feelings and sounds as he may have hoped, which, judging by Yuuri’s smirk, was a definite possibility.

“It’s just a break...but it’s a long one, 45 minutes actually.” His voice reaching familiar territory as Viktor held his glass up and used it to cover his face and nudged his seat in some to try and hide anything that might be showing.

“Heh, g-great, um...Maybe we should go get some food, then? I never did eat, actually…” He again tried to change topics, swallowing some as he fought against the growing feeling of excitement that was spreading faster than he’d like.

“Oh, funny, I was thinking about eating something just now…” Yuuri countered, finding it almost too easy to see through the quickly deteriorating look of self-control on the choreographer’s face.

“I-I...Maybe uh, maybe we can both, er…I want to...” Viktor trailed off, his face getting red and his thoughts becoming more erratic and impulsive as he found himself starting to think with a different head than his usual one, his failing fight against his urges ending by the second.

Katsuki didn’t mutter a word back for a moment, merely finishing off his drink and stepping standing up straight for a moment, shooting the man a quick, alluring glance before he quickly and easily climbed over top of him and practically pinned him in his seat.

“Let’s go to the back, shall we?” Yuuri spoke as sensually as he could, deciding to free him from his clear inner turmoil in getting direct with his desires, sliding his hands up under his arms and locking him in tighter.

In that moment, as he all but tasted the words that left Katsuki’s mouth, Nikiforov found himself wondering what he was fighting himself for, realizing that his showing up to the bar was likely never just to visit, especially after the night he had just gone through and how close certain things had gotten.

Which is why he let Yuuri take his hand and lead him over to a small, dimly lit room that was covered with only a red curtain, a room in which dancers would give their more private services to patrons who paid well enough, though Katsuki didn’t seem to mind giving Viktor a special sort of a five-fingered discount.

“Y-Yuuri, wait…” Viktor spoke as soon as the cloth was pulled shut and his dancer stepped back in front of him, raising an arm up and holding it near the performer’s chest, his breathing slowed and eyes clearly focused as his mind was fully made up.

In that instant, the very brief second between his decision, Nikiforov caved to his desires and shoved Katsuki over the edge of the leather couch, undoing the tie that hung from his neck slightly and tossing his coat off.

“Vik...Viktor, I-I didn’t think you-” The performer attempted to speak, whether he was going to say something legitimate, or merely tease his coach further, the man didn’t seem to care, as he climbed on top of him and pressed himself down firmly.

“It’s been on my mind all day, y-you know...How you acted last night...” Viktor spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar to Katsuki, one that seemingly mimicked the more sensual tones that he’d used on him in the past, prompting him to blush harder than he might have expected to when he originally brought them into the room.

“That little show you put on...How, h-how incredibly you moved, how...sexy you were…” He went on, sliding his left hand up the man’s bare chest as he dragged his right down his side, nudging his shorts before peeling his thigh high down some.

“B-But you left me wanting more, Katsuki Yuuri, you...you kept me waiting.” Nikiforov’s words were impacting the performer in almost an exact same manner as his had earlier, though as he stared up at the eyes that were examining every inch of his body, he felt a shiver go down his spine.

Katsuki had been with people before, and people had even seen him naked, of course, that was part of his job after all, but there was something sensual in the way that Viktor’s sharp, blue eyes looked over him as he slowly went about removing the few articles of clothing he had on, the man practically oozed passion as he prompted Yuuri to kick his boots the rest of the way off and went on feeling his body up.

“W-Well, I, ah, I’m sorry to have...made you wait, then.” Yuuri managed to speak up, trying to regain some sort of control in the situation that he created, but finding the gentle, heated touching too persuasive to do much more than twitch.

“Oh no, you’ve played your games long enough, Katsuki Yuuri, nh-now I get to play mine.” Nikiforov spoke back, squeezing around his sides before planting a hand in the center of his chest again and propping himself up on his knees.

The image that was laying in front of him, the sight of a man he’d pined and longed for, and how flustered and disheveled he looked, was almost enough to get him to relent and merely try to cuddle with him again, but as he all but sat on his lap and felt the effects of his efforts so far, he decided that it was surely too late to go back now.

With a nod and moan, Viktor lifting himself upwards some and slid a few fingers from his right hand under the brim of the performer’s shorts, catching his thin underwear in his grip as well, before pulling them down, easing them off as the man moved his hips in attempt to help get the garment off faster.

“Y-You’re okay with this, right? You seem...nervous.” Viktor questioned as he sat up again, wanting to be as certain as he could possibly be before going through with the rest of his impromptu plan.

“W-Well, you...You haven’t been nearly as...flirty as me, and...no one’s really lo-looked at me, like you have.” Yuuri answered, feeling his heart beating in his throat as the words came roughly out of his mouth.

“But, er, y-yes, please continue, I...I want you to...ha-have me, however you want…” He quickly added, nodding and clutching the sides of the couch as his body eagerly anticipated Nikiforov’s next move.

As soon as the words left his lips, Viktor planted his against them, kissing him deeply and passionately, not unlike he had before, rocking his hips at his lap as he felt his pants suffer the consequences of doing so.

“Y-You’re already so...messy, Katsuki...I haven’t even really t-touched you yet…” Viktor spoke before sucking on his neck, biting and nipping at it as he trailed his mouth around to the edge of his chin.

He did similarly with any patch of skin he could viably reach as he slowly slid downwards, flicking his thumbs over the man’s nipples as he kissed him again, leaving various marks and bumps on his flesh, pulling his head up just above his waist with a warm, heavy breath.

“I...I should clean you up, before you get back out there…” Viktor tauntingly spoke, reorienting himself some by sliding over the arm of the couch and tugging the performer’s legs down with him.

“Pl-Please...do…” Was all that Katsuki could mumble back, his voice rough and dry as he took in as many breaths as he could and stared down at the lips that were now hovering just above his crotch.

With a single, smooth motion, Viktor pushed his head forward and took in half of Yuuri’s length, moaning against his flesh as he worked himself as deep as he could go on his first motion.

“A-Ah! V-Viktor!” Yuuri involuntarily let out, bringing his hands up and covering his hot, reddened face as he felt his thighs tremble and watched the man’s mouth sliding back upwards.

“Ah, Yuuri, don’t forget, we’re not exactly alone here...Do keep it down.” Nikiforov teasingly spoke, fluttering his eyes up at him before returning to his work, coating his lips in the precum that was profusely leaking from the tip of his manhood.

No one had done this to him before, and it wasn’t just the blowjob, but how he did it, the electric passion that sent tingles shooting throughout every inch of his being, it was unlike anything the dancer had experienced before, and as he watched more of himself vanish into his coach’s mouth, he craved nothing more.

And he got it, too, as Viktor steadily worked up a pace, keeping his icy blue eyes focused on Yuuri’s face as he sucked him firmly, taking anything that came out of him and practically massaging his thighs as he worked his cock, doing anything he could think of to bring his now-lover more pleasure.

The sense of time faded again, as well as the rest of the bar, and even the world for all they knew, nothing else mattered to either, just the expressions and muffled sounds and the oddly sweet taste.

Once he figured he had enough control over his volume, Katsuki extended his right arm down and planted his hand on the man’s head, running it through his soft, silver hair, tangling his fingers in it as his head dropped back onto the cushion that was under it.

The choreographer panted and moaned against the wet skin that filled his mouth, still admiring the mess he was making with the same loving, affectionate look that he wore most any time he saw the dancer at this point, sucking and licking some as he felt the man starting to tense up.

“I-I...Vikt-ah! Er...Nh-Not much more, I...I can’t…” Yuuri muttered out, drool slightly leaking from the corner of his mouth as words became more difficult to form than they had ever been and the heated feeling in his stomach, which his coach was now rubbing, grew too strong to ignore.

“Dh-Do it, Katsuki Yuuri…C-Cum for me.” Viktor spoke, sliding his tongue up and down the performer’s twitching and practically dripping cock, blushing heavily as he went back down on it and finally brought him to climax.

Katsuki’s grip tightened and he quickly bit down on his free hand, stifling his moans as he repeatedly let out Nikforov’s name, feeling himself cumming in the warmth that was wrapped around his manhood as his toes curled and his eyes rolled upwards.

Nikiforov was sure not to spill a drop, swallowing anything that shot from the tip and onto the back of his throat, moaning through the action as he stared up at the immensely rewarding look of orgasm on Katsuki’s face.

He held the dancer still for as long as it took, his left hand resting just above his waist as his right wrapped around the base of his length, shaking and rubbing on it in attempt to get as much out as he could before the man’s climax came to an end and he finally pulled off of him with a subtle popping sound.

Both merely sat in silence for a few moments, with the coach’s eyes fluttering and some mess remaining on his lips as he stared up at the rest of his work, while the student took in multiple, short breaths, practically panting as he wiped his brow of the light sweat that had formed on it.

“Th-That was...Ah-Amazing, I...nh, no, better than amazing, it...you…” Katsuki muttered out as the man pulled himself back onto the couch and slowly made his way over top of him again.

“Shh, don’t ruin the moment.” Nikiforov spoke almost smugly before pressing his mouth to the man’s again, slowly and warmly kissing him as he ran a hand up through his hair in return for the similar action earlier.

The two cuddled on the couch for a few more minutes, recuperating and recollecting themselves as the feeling of pleasure in the room gradually subsided into a more familiar, blissful one.

“I...I should get back out there, and back to work.” The performer spoke after a time, nodding as his coach got off of him and brought together the few pieces of clothing and handed them to him.

“Think they’ll mind you being a few minutes late?” The choreographer teasingly asked, standing up and fixing his own outfit some before offering a hand and pulling his pupil up and onto his feet.

“Mhm, probably not, I mean...I am the best thing they have in here, eh?” Yuuri replied, his confidence boosted about as high as he would have ever thought it could go as he worked himself back into the short pair of shorts and stepped into his boots.

“Ah, that’s a good point.” Viktor said back, sliding his left hand down the performer’s side one last time before giving him a smack across the ass as he started to leave the room, the rest of the night playing out almost as well as the start of it had.

Almost.

Chapter Text

He hadn’t intended on dozing off in the backroom of a strip club, but as Viktor rubbed his eyes and found a smile plastered across his face, he found that he didn’t quite mind, only questioning how much his recent act took out of him for a minute before climbing off the leather couch and getting back on his feet.

Hazily, the man peeked out from the curtain, noting how there were still more than a few patrons lingering around, not nearly as many as there normally were, of course, but enough to assure him that the place wasn’t closed just yet.

He thought about waiting around for whatever possibly remained of Yuuri’s shift, if it hadn’t already ended, but a quick check of his jacket and pockets told him that he was missing his phone, and after scouting out the majority of the club without a sign of the performer, he decided to see himself out.

The trip home felt short, likely due to the headache that came with such an impromptu nap, and as he tossed his coat onto the floor and kicked his shoes off, spotting his device on the table in the main room, and, after doing a doubletake, red lipstick planted across his chin, with the initials “K.Y.” drawn on his cheek.

After pushing through the urge to turn as red as the makeup that was on his skin, Viktor entered the bedroom and flopped himself onto the mattress, happily reminiscing about his night as his pet leaped up and celebrated it’s master’s return.

He would have been fine with dozing back off and getting actual rest, and likely would have been better off, but something compelled him to check his phone, clicking it on with the touch of a button and being greeted with several missed calls.

The man groaned, a slight twinge of guilt passing through his system as he dropped his head onto his pillow, only lifting it back up after he managed to return his mindset to a few hours prior, opting to shield himself from whatever feelings might have came from the opposite path.

This defensive maneuver, however, ended up failing in a bigger way than he could have ever imagined, as, just moments before he was going to place his device on the nightstand, it began to vibrate with an incoming call that sent a shock up his spine.

It was Yakov.

He debated answering it, running through his options quickly as any possible scenario flashed through his head, everything from simply ignoring it, to tossing the phone itself through the apartment building and hoping that it never went off again.

But just as the call ceased, another one came in, the process repeating a handful of times before the choreographer started to decide to do something about it, inhaling heavily as he fought himself to make the right choice, and with a slide of his finger, the voice on the line was finally answered.

“H-Hey, Yakov…” Viktor spoke as soon as his fingertip reached the end of the screen, hoping that being the first one to speak would make the expected onslaught of words and guilt lessen lose some of their sting.

“Viktor! Where are you? You’ve been gone for months now.” Yakov’s stern, clearly angered voice came in, signaling that efforts to ease the impact of the conversation were nothing short of wasted.

“You said it’d only be, at most, 3 weeks, and yet you’re ignoring my calls, Yurio’s texts, and have refused to reappear. We need you to come back.” The man went on, to the wincing discomfort of the choreographer.

“What do you have to say for yourself? Anything you’d like to let me know about that might excuse you?” He asked after a few moments of silence, practically biting at Nikiforov through his phone.

“I...I found it.” Viktor eventually managed to say, having spent his few minutes trying to put his explanation into words that might help his former coach understand the situation, if he could.

“I found...A spark, Yakov, inspiration, here in Japan...:” He went on, trying to brace himself up for as much of a negative reaction as he could get from the man on the end of the line.

“Japan? You...I can’t teach this boy on my own, Viktor, what is it you’ve really found?” Yakov questioned, finding himself even more confused and annoyed at his apparent beating around the bush than he was of his now-unexcused absence.

“It’s what I said, inspiration, in the form of a person…” Nikiforov spoke, swaying his head as he sat himself up in his bed and began fumbling with Makkachin with his free hand, using it as a pleasurable distraction as the conversation unfortunately went on.

“I don’t understand, who did you find? How do they help you?” The coach-turned-manager further questioned, audibly sighing at his own lack of understanding, as well as the man’s mincing of words.

“Katsuki...Katsuki Yuuri, that’s his name, and he’s my...inspiration, like I’ve been saying, a spark in my life…” The choreographer explained again, knowing that he likely wasn’t helping the bewilderment too much.

Silence fell between them as his words echoed in the phone and trailed off, with the former dancer looking for something to add that could possibly patch up his deteriorating situation as fast as possible, but ending up saying the only thing that truly came to his mind.

“I was bored, alright? I got bored! Of...Of all the competitions, everything started blending together, I thought I just needed a short break, but...I needed something else, I needed to get away, and find something else, and I have!” Viktor spoke with some determination for the first time since he left the club, his eyes darting towards the device he held to his ear.

Yakov’s end went quiet, so deeply silent in fact that Nikiforov found himself checking the phone and making sure he didn’t accidentally hang up on him, or lose the call, knowing full well that it wouldn’t help anything if either happened.

“I...I see…” Finally came through the receiver, the voice shushed and almost humbled compared to the louder, more aggressive volume that was speaking to the man earlier.

“I can’t force you to come back, Viktor, I just wasn’t sure...Anyway, if you decide you want to come help, his big show is in three weeks, call me.” Yakov eventually added, his somewhat unfamiliar tone striking a chord within Nikiforov.

Neither got another word in before the line went dead and all that remained, on Viktor’s end at least, was a dial tone, the eerie silence proving too much to handle as he tapped a red button on his phone and dropped it onto the table.

It was hard for him to go to bed with the hole that felt it formed in his stomach, the guilt and anguish over not only the conversion as a whole, but the coming decision he faced impacting him deeply and into the morning hours.

When he did finally awaken, a good amount of time into the day, the feeling hadn’t diminished nearly as much as he’d hoped, and as he sat in his bed and hung his legs over the side, he contemplated what he could do.

His commitments in Russia, both to Yakov and Yurio, were important to him, even if they didn’t seem like it, but the things he now had going for himself in Japan, namely Katsuki, was something he felt was equally, if not more important.

The majority of his morning, his inner thoughts flip-flopping on what to do and how to handle the situation, merely going through the motions of his current life, sitting through large portions of it in the dimly lit main-room, by himself, opting not to involve his pet in the emotions he was going through.

It reached a few minutes prior to the afternoon before he had any sort of breakthrough, deciding to seek advice from the only outside source he could think of, typing the name “Chris” into his phone before finally doing anything more than just sitting around.

“Viktor, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Chris spoke, his voice the sound of a man who had either just woken up, or was just getting in, from what, Nikiforov didn’t even try to ponder on.

“Chris, I...I need to talk, to someone a bit...unbiased.” Viktor explained, finding the words a slight bit hard to get out as he repeatedly felt the urge to clear his throat of the anxious build-up from his last few, on-edge hours.

“May I ask what it’s about? Should I bring anything?” The man asked, audibly rising to his feet and opening a door, as noted by the blowing of wind that suddenly blew into the receiver.

“Just...A decision I have to make, I’ll explain everything when you get here. Oh, and uh...just a coffee, if you don’t mind.” Nikiforov replied, a slight feeling of relief in him as he knew some form of assistance was on the way, though the fear of explaining the situation was also setting in.

Indeed, the choreographer told the whole story, everything from his initial, personal meeting with Katsuki Yuuri, to the choice that was now sitting in front of him, leaving out the more intimate details that he may or may not have been pressed for.

“I know I should go back, even if it’s just to...end things off, close a few loose ends, but...How do I tell him? What do I even say?” Viktor went on, sipping from his cup after he finished letting out his few, final thoughts.

“That truly is a tricky one, you have to face the reality you’ve got back in Russia, but you don’t wish to scare your lover off.” Chris spoke, romanticizing his words in a way that could have made the choreographer sitting next to him blush.

“You can’t run from these responsibilities of yours for too much longer, Viktor, they’ll swallow you whole before you know it...No matter how much you want to run.” He went on, taking a drink of his own between his thoughts.

“But perhaps, you can run with your lover.” He added, again pointedly using the word lover, despite Nikiforov’s distinct, definitely intentional lack of using it or any other form of the word himself in his earlier speech.

“You don’t mean...Do you think Yuuri would go for that, I mean...I guess it’s possible, but…” Viktor replied, trailing off some as he wrestled with the implied idea for a few moments.

“I think it’s your best course of action, I’m afraid, though surely there’s no harm in trying, eh?” Chris responded, downing the remainder of his coffee and, after getting to his feet, pitching the cup in a nearby trashcan and taking up a spot near the door.

“Yeah, I...I guess you’ve got a point, th-thank you, Chris, I’ll...go speak to him right now.” The man spoke, grabbing his drink and making for the exit as well, parting ways with his friends with a friendly, somewhat confident nod.

The feeling didn’t do more than sit in his stomach though as he found himself wishing for another option while he made his way to the Ice Castle, dreading the possible reactions he assumed he’d get from Katsuki once he offered up his intended proposal, but also clinging to a bit of hope that the dancer would understand, and even be eager about it.

Everything started to swell as he stepped in through the doors leading to the club area of the establishment, the fears, anxiety, optimism, it all pressed and thumped in his chest and his throat as he took the scantily clad dancer, who was acting as a waiter on this night, to the side.

“H-Hey, good to see you up and around, er...What’s with the face? Is everything alright, Viktor?” Katsuki questioned, maintaining an innocent, if not playful tone as he felt the grip on his shoulders tighten.

“Yuuri...I, w-we need to go.” Was all the coach could manage out as he fought off the urge to tremble and faint, wishing that he’d wake back up on the couch in the room a few feet away any moment now.

“Go? Where? I-I...I’m almost done, u-unless you really can’t wait, that is.” Katsuki spoke with a nervous chuckle to his voice, peering into the blue eyes that remained off of him with a confused look on his face.

“We have to go to Russia.” Viktor firmly spoke, suddenly shifting his gaze and staring at Yuuri with a troubled, focused look across his face, holding onto him for dear life as he felt his ears ring from the stress and the world around them stop.

Chapter Text

“Woah, woah, wait, what? Go to Russia? Viktor, I...I don’t have the money for that, I...Just slow down and tell me what's going on.” Yuuri spoke as everything started to move again, his tone light enough to put the man holding his shoulders at some sort of ease, somewhat perplexed look remaining on his face as he attempted to calm the man down.

“I-I’ll pay for it, all of it, everything you could possibly want while we’re there, I just...Okay…” Viktor said back, loosening his grip and taking a step back as he sucked in a heavy, deep breath, organizing his thoughts before attempting to explain himself.

“I answered a phone call, not entirely on purpose, but I just...felt like I had to, and it was my old coach, Yakov, a-and he told me I...need to come back…” The choreographer started, holding himself in place as the anxiousness bubbled in his chest again.

“It’s for a boy, someone named Yuri Plisetsky, he’s got a competition in three weeks, and I...I have to finish training him, but...I didn’t want to just leave you here, I-I don’t think I could.” He went on, his tone lightening up and settling as the confession took a weight off of him and a momentary silence set in between them.

“Oh, I’ve heard of him, yeah...Well, if it's your job, and you really want me to come with you, then...Okay.” Katsuki eventually spoke, having taken a second to fully understand the seemingly out of nowhere situation to the best of his abilities before deciding to speak again.

“Wait, okay?” Nikiforov immediately questioned, still on edge about possibly upsetting or scaring the performer, even if the face that was standing in front of him said just about the opposite of any such possibilities.

“One condition, though...You have to promise to treat me right, to show me the sights and just...have a good time, and all that, I haven't had many vacations, after all, so I want to make this one a really nice one.” Yuuri merely continued on, smiling lightly in the corner of his lips.

“I...You’re okay with...You actually want to…” Nikiforov muttered, his mind nearly malfunctioning as the overwhelmingly negative assumptions and scenarios in his head were all proven quickly and strictly false.

“Of course, I’ll put in for the time off tonight, three weeks, right? Like I said, I don’t get many big, extravagant vacations, so this is a perfect excuse for me.” Katsuki playfully replied, much more cheery and happy about the situation than the man would have ever believed.

“Y-Yeah, okay, I’ll...book our flight as soon as I get a chance, alright? It'll probably leave as early as tomorrow morning, so uh, be ready.” The choreographer spoke, his own tone shifting to a nicer, lighter one as a smile formed across his lips and his worries started melting away.

“That'll work for me, sure, so I’ll guess I’ll...see you on the plane then, stud.” The performer teasingly said back, putting on his more usual warm, flirtatious attitude as he shared in a tight-knit hug with his coach and slipped from his hands and went back to his work, sending Viktor off to get a nice night’s sleep for the first time in what felt like ages.

He needed it, and for that matter, both needed the rest they got as they spent the remainder of the week anticipating the booked trip, which set off from Japan just before the weekend, with Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov taking their seats in the first class section after assuring Makkachin’s safety in the back of the plane, hands interlaced as they dozed off shortly after takeoff.

When they finally awoke, their aircraft was in the process of landing in Russia, flying at a downward angle as they descended into the lit up landmass and eventually started rolling across a tarmac.

“Hey, you thinking about performing while we’re here? I’m sure anywhere would be lucky to have you in their club, after all.” Viktor teasingly questioned, only really half serious in his remarks as they began to rise to their feet.

“I-ah, believe it or not, but I think I’ll have to say that I’m more of a...one club kind of performer, Viktor.” Yuuri jokingly played along, brushing a finger briefly over his nose before they claimed their bags and exited the craft.

It was a smooth transition from the air to the ground for the both of them, with Katsuki enjoying the sights from the passenger seat of the rented vehicle, Makkachin in the back of the car, and Nikiforov merely humming along with a tune on the radio as they made their way to his home in St. Petersburg.

Though the group reached the door at nearly the same time, the dog was the first one inside, ripping his way through the house as the two followed behind, giggling as they watched the animal lunge onto the main couch in the living room, with Viktor joining his pet shortly after dropping his luggage onto the floor.

“I, uh...Where should I put these? Do I just...leave them here, do you have a guest room somewhere, or…” Yuuri questioned after admiring the man for a few minutes, his warm smile unrelenting as he fixed his glasses some.

“Just, ah, you can...put them in my room, actually, it’s no problem.” Viktor replied after rolling his dog around some, a twinge of blush and a light, subtle smirk in the corner of his lips as he watched the dancer disappear down the hall and unpack.

Katsuki came back out just as Nikiforov was putting his phone down, indicating that they had actually made it in decent time, and that he had been called off to the dance center in which his client and former coach were currently training.

“You should come with me, you know? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, it’ll be fun.” The man spoke as he finished his few preparations, having changed shirts and freshened himself up some.

“I...Yeah, that sounds like it might be alright, plus, I’ll get to hold you to your promise of seeing a few sights.” Katsuki pleasantly replied, not needing much more than a comb to make himself look as if he’d just been cleaned up.

With a pat on Makkachin’s head and a lock of the door, the two were out almost as quickly as they arrived, back in the car and on the way to the center as slight signs of jet-lag set in, causing both to agree to only stay as long as they were needed.

“Just who the fuck is this?” An annoyed, angered voice spoke, the first thing that greeted them not long after the pair entered the building and made their way through the open locker room.

“It’s good to see you too, Yuri...uh, this is...Katsuki Yuuri…” Viktor replied, realizing the issue that rose up as soon as he finished saying both names, planting a hand on his chin as he thought about it for a moment.

“Okay, wait, since there’s two of you with the same name, we need something to differentiate you two, so...I think I’m going to call the black haired one Yuuri, and the blonde one...Yurio.” He added with a smile, clearly pleased with his quick decision making as he wagged his finger between the two.

“Excuse the hell out of you, that’s not my name, why do you get to decide?” Yurio replied, arms crossed and foot tapping rapidly against the ground as he peered angrily at both men and was obviously annoyed.

“W-Well anyway, Yuri er, Yurio, it’s nice to meet you, Viktor told me you’re pretty talented.” Yuuri finally chimed in, opting to ignore the odd tension and angered tone that emanated off the smaller boy and change the topic.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever, what do you even do?” The blonde directly asked, again cutting straight to his point and all but demanding a speedy, accurate answer just by the way he stood in front of them.

“I uh...Well, I dance too, normally and...on a pole, er…” Katsuki spoke with a slight, nervous twinge to his voice, unsure of how to describe his employment to someone who it wasn’t exactly meant for.

“You’re a stripper then, huh? Have you really been wasting your time with this one, Nikiforov?” Plisentsky, a smug look forming on his face as his sharpened words left his mouth and his eyes rolled in his head.

“Just so you’re aware, Yurio, Yuuri here could probably dance circles around you, but I guess I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen.” Viktor spoke up after a second to think, deciding not to go all out on retorting to the main reason he was even back in Russia.

“Alright, you know what? Whatever, let’s just get out there and start this practice crap again, it took you long enough to get here anyway.” The angered boy said in reply, spinning on his heel and leading the way through the locker room and out onto a stage where Yakov was waiting.

“I take it that he gave you a warm welcome, huh?” The man spoke, patting Viktor on the shoulder as the group stepped up the short staircase and Yurio took a spot near the further edge of the stage.

“And this is Katsuki Yuuri, I assume? I expected...I guess I’m not sure what I expected, but welcome.” He went on, making way for the former dancer to begin the practicing, and sliding a chair up for himself and the performer to merely admire the session.

In order to make up for lost time, Viktor gave as large an effort as he could, correcting and critiquing Yurio’s moves at any point, even if there was an annoyed reaction awaiting his words or some other form of rebellious behavior from the overwhelmingly naturally gifted boy.

Yuuri played on his phone and Yakov remained still with his arms crossed as the day passed, the occasional glance from the choreographer keeping the performer’s attentions mostly focused, urging him to take the occasional picture or video whenever the dancer either did well, or ended up falling, leaving the two snickering quietly to themselves.

Even that soon became a bit dull to Katsuki, who wasn’t quite sure what he was doing in the arena at this point, sure it was impressive watching how well Yurio could move, but this was the first time he’d been out of Japan for the first time, and after standing up and whispering in Viktor’s ear, he excused himself and decided to walk back to Nikiforov’s house, leaving him with a light kiss on the cheek and his keys in hand.

Night fell before Viktor was finally done for the day, making sure nearly all of Plisetsky’s moves and routines were refined for the coming competition, exchanging a few words with Yakov about the event and the next practice before making an exit.

Hungry, worn down, and generally ready to end his day, Nikiforov hopped back into the rented vehicle and made his way back home, a quieter car ride helping make his journey all the faster as he found a growing anticipation for his return to Katsuki building up inside of himself.

“Hey, hey, I’m home.” Viktor loudly spoke as he opened his door, immediately being jumped by Makkachin before he made more than a few steps inside.

“Oh, hey, welcome back, kept you out late, huh?” Yuuri’s warm, playful voice came from the kitchen, the sight of him wearing an apron over his clothes greeting the homeowner as he rounded a corner.

“Yakov always works me to the bone, really, always had, and probably always will.” Nikiforov replied with a laugh in his throat, hooking his coat up before stepping up beside the man.

“What do you have going on in here? It smells really good, actually.” He added, an arm sliding gently over Katsuki’s shoulders as he leaned over and admired whatever was in the pan.

“Ah, I uh...I got a little hungry, and figured you would be too, so I looked up how to make pirozhki and gave it a try, er, sorry if it’s not the best or anything.” Yuuri replied, still tending to the finishing touches on the meal before flicking the flame under the pan off.

“Well, they look about right, and smell even better.” His coach said back, patting on his shoulder before reaching for two plates from his cabinet, setting his table just before the impromptu cook delivered the food.

After the two shared a bite, as in, they lifted the other’s meal up towards their mouth and took a bite when they both nodded, the choreographer was fairly quick to express his delight in the form of a near-moaning sound.

“That’s...It’s very well made for someone who says they’ve never made them before!” Viktor spoke, eating more of the item and shaking his head positively as he received a smile in return.

The pair ate their meal in peace for a few minutes, before Nikiforov came to the realization that neither of them had anything to drink, and, after a bit of straining, got to his feet to rectify the problem.

“Say, what are you thinking of doing, once Yurio’s competition ends, do you...Plan on staying, or…” Yuuri asked after a few moments, only really looking to make some small, dinner talk with the increasingly sluggish and exhausted looking man.

“I uh...I haven’t really thought about it, if I’m honest…” Was all that Viktor muttered back, the idea having another big decision to make him stall for a moment, as he truly hadn’t considered any of his options that would surely arise by the end of the trip.

The table was hushed again for a few minutes as the two went about eating, neither wanting to dwell on the possible emotions that came with such an unintentionally deep question, lingering in the silence until the performer found something else to say.

“Hey, uh...Are you doing alright? You haven’t really relaxed since we got here, after all.” Katsuki questioned as tea was poured into his glass, having noted his somewhat more sluggish movements and weaker demeanor.

“Oh, ah, I’m fine, really, I might be a bit tired is all, laying down would probably do me a world of good.” The man replied at about the same time as a subtle yawn echoed up and out of his throat.

“I won’t mind if you decide to uh...go to bed early, or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Yuuri said back, sitting his food back down and taking a drink as he intentional avoided staring up at his host.

“I just need to lay out for a bit, we’ll sleep-er, I’m sure I’ll get to sleep soon though, don’t worry, I’ll relax before long.” Viktor spoke, his tone slowly shifting as he realized what he was saying and a tinge of blush coating his face as a result.

A bit of a silence fell between them again as they continued to eat, thoughts and ideas popping up in either one’s head, but neither said anything for a few minutes, until one side of the table finally caved into his more natural attitude.

“I’m sure I’ve got...plenty of ways to help you relax, you know.” Katsuki said, withholding as much of his flirty, sensual tone as he could, his glasses slightly sliding down his nose and his eyes peering over the top of them somewhat unintentionally.

“Ah...Er, well, I...I’m sure you do, heh, but I don’t know if we should...” Viktor trailed off as his thoughts did similar, exploring the many ideas and options that were brought to mind, from everything to something innocent like a back rub, to things more intimate.

Though he may have wanted to feign some form of ignorance to his remarks, Yuuri knew full well what he was doing and what he truly meant, and he hoped, as the man across the table’s face got coated in a tinge of red, that he did, too.
.
“If we should what? I mean, this...This is your house, after all, and I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with relaxing for a bit, hm?” The performer spoke up, playfully drawing circles on a napkin as he acted the part for as long as he could.

“I-Er, it is, but...Do you want-er, I mean, we...” Viktor muttered back without having the ability to really think straight and stop himself thanks to a few overwhelming desires, feeling his breathing get somewhat heavier as his pants tightened.

“Oh, after everything you’ve done for me, I...I don’t mind...helping you if you want, Mr. Nikiforov, I’m sure it’d be...my pleasure.” Katsuki sensually spoke as he stood himself up, trailing his right across the wooden table as he made his way over and brought his left to the back of his coach’s hair.

“I...Ah, well, w-what would you have in mind, then?” Nikiforov managed back, his throat drying up as he felt his chair get slid back some and his lap soon filled with the warmth that came from another man sitting down on it.

“Do you...Really want me to tell you? Sure you can...take it?” The dancer irresistibly teased as he took his new seat, taking hold of the man’s chin and running his thumb across his slightly parted lips.

Viktor couldn’t nod fast enough, words and thoughts failing him as he felt himself crumbling to an urge that had built up from days, weeks, and months of watching the performer move and work himself around a pole that he had admittedly wished was his on more than a few occasions.

“Well...I was thinking, we go to your room, and I get you laying out on your back, and…” Katsuki fell into a whisper as he moved his mouth to the choreographer’s ear, the few remaining instructions sending his face into a reddened frenzy as he wrapped his arms quickly around the performer and stood the both of them up.

Nikiforov’s eyes rolled upwards as he embraced his pupil in a searing, passionate kiss, taking him deeply, until Yuuri took control for himself, that is, leading the two of them down the hallway as arms slid up and down bodies and clothing was stripped and left sitting around the house.

They stood, leaning against the door for a moment, as the dancer marked and sucked on any inch of skin his mouth passed over as he rocked his kneecap between his coach’s legs, gently chewing on his neck before the doorknob was finally turned and the two all but fell into the room.

It was only with a push after entering the main bedroom did the two manage to separate from one another, both men mostly nude and quickly getting rid of the underwear or stray article of cloth that remained as they prepared themselves.

Viktor gripped his mattress tightly as he whimpered and moaned both from the loss of contact, and from the feeling of his free hand sliding down and meticulously fingering at his own entrance, as per the dancer’s plan.

Yuuri had a bit of an easier task, merely fetching a tube from the nightstand and using it to spread a gel onto his hardening length, while he coated his empty hand with the material, and, once the choreographer moved his arm, worked it around his opening.

Things settled slightly as Katsuki took to the bed and pulled Nikiforov’s legs up and over his shoulders, his hands massaging the man’s thighs as he poked and prodded, smiling down at him as he got a pleasured smirk in return.

“I-Ah, I’m surprised that it...took us this long, just so you know.” Yuuri teasingly spoke, hooking his left hand onto his coach’s side as his right slid down and ran gentle, fingertip-led circles on his stomach.

“Mh, I didn’t mean to...kh-keep you waiting, if that’s what you’re getting at, I-I just wasn’t sure how to...ask for this sort of thing.” Viktor played along the best he could as he felt a stiffness poking between his legs and the various sensations coursing through his body.

“Well, for future reference, ha-how about you just...be a good boy, and tell me when you want it.” Katsuki replied, inching his knees further up the bed some as he brought both hands back to the man’s thighs.

“Ah, speaking of...I assume you’re ready by now, right, Mr. Nikiforov?” He added in his more sultry tone, still running his fingertips playfully against the flesh beneath them as he received a slow nod in reply.

For a moment, even with the go-ahead having been given, the two simply indulged in the sight of one another, the way Nikforov’s hair shimmered in the dim light of his bedroom, and the way Katsuki looked as he leaned forward some, keeping their gaze mostly locked as Yuuri finally pushed his hips forward.

The act started slow and was filled with grunts and groans, muffled versions of the performer’s name leaking out of the covered sides of Viktor’s mouth after he instinctively brought a hand to block the sounds as he felt a thick warmth working it’s way further inside of him.

“Ah, nh-now, now, Mr. Nikiforov...We’re alone, this time, we can...be as loud as we need to be.” Katsuki tauntingly spoke, running a hand up and pulling his coach’s arm down as he began working up a steady pace.

Fighting off every impulse, the choreographer kept his hands to his sides, both of them gripping his sheets heavily as he felt his dancer’s hips rocking and easing back and forth, gradually building up to an increasingly faster speed.

There was a similar conflict brewing inside of Yuuri as he staved off the urge to go faster and rougher without any build up or warning, wanting to keep things comfortable for the both of them as he worked.

“I...Ah, Y-Yuuri, please...I need mah-more, ah...As fast as you want…” Nikiforov moaned out to the dancer’s relief, pressing his head against his pillows as he felt himself getting rocked into them and the bed start shaking.

“Now, was...Was that so hard, just...asking for what you want?” Katsuki taunted as he started to oblige his request, ramping himself up as he pounded against his choreographer’s backside, occasionally slipping a hand down and tapping on his rear as he moved.

It didn’t take long for Viktor to devolve into a series of moans and grunts again, the pleasure sending shockwaves through both his being as he felt himself clenching around Yuuri’s member and gritting his teeth.

Katsuki, for all his talk and flirtatious behavior, wasn’t faring much better, only truly able to shower praises to his coach as he thrust back and forth, slamming their skin together as he constantly mentioned how good the man felt.

Such words did wonders for Nikiforov, his arms finally unlocking from their positions at his sides and somewhat snapping around Katsuki’s body, pulling himself upwards as he rocked his hips in tandem to the best of his abilities.

For all that was happening to him, for all the happiness and joy he’d felt, it would soon pale in comparison as his student worked his right down and gently took hold of his length and, with another nod, began pumping on it.

Whether it was the fact that he’d manage to hold off touching himself for some time now, or the electric feeling in the room, Viktor was surprised at how sensitive he was, how anything Yuuri did made him feel like he was burning up.

It was pure bliss, and neither could get enough, but as with all good things, no matter how intense or passionate they were, this was soon racing towards an end, as evidenced by the choreographer’s heavier breathing, and the student’s dropping pace.

“Dah-Don’t...Hold back, just...give it all to me...” Nikiforov managed to moan out, biting somewhat harshly on his lower lip as he resisted the rising, heated feeling that shot up his chest.

“Ah, just...Fuh-Fuck! Viktor! I cah-I can’t!” Katsuki groaned out, trying to maintain a shred of his usual behavior before it was quickly buried by the overwhelming desire that was finally reaching its breaking point.

It wasn’t long after his muttered warning that the dancer erupted, sliding himself out and releasing onto his coach while constantly moaning his name. The choreographer did similarly as he felt himself get pulled over the edge as well, his length twitching in the man’s grasp as it coated his own body.

Both panted and grunted, the pleasure of their nearly shared climax more than enough to make them wish their bodies could handle another round, but as either orgasm slowly dissipated, they found that they were fine with simply enjoying the exhausted look of their partner.

Katsuki couldn’t get his eyes off the pleased, satisfied look the man that he himself had painted across his face. Though he did, of course, get a glimpse of the mess that coated his stomach and chest, playfully and tiredly licking his lips in response as he barely held himself upright and felt his knees get weaker by the second.

Nikiforov, on the other hand, loved how flushed, passionate, and simply used up the dancer looked. It was a disheveled look that he’d only managed to see once before, and one that he cherished even as he lost his grip and eventually dropped back onto the bed fully and urged his partner to follow him as he lazily stared up at him.

“Come...Come on, Katsuki, re-relax with me, that’s why we...ah, came back here, isn’t it?” Viktor softly and warmly spoke as he wagged a finger for a moment, his tone soft and breathing stabilizing as he struggled remaining conscious thanks to expending almost every ounce of his energy.

“Nh-Not even asking anymore, just...getting straight into the demands now, huh? That...That’s good.” Yuuri managed to reply, fluttering his eyes and smirking before he collapsed forward and found himself calmly and peacefully cuddling, both fully drained as they gently drifted off to sleep in his arms.

The playful, please smiles that had overtaken their faces and the heated, loving feeling they shared would stay with them from the time they lost consciousness, to the time that the sun finally rose again.

Chapter Text

The feeling of warmth and bliss that grew between them that night and the hours that had followed was one that would go on to permeate through the rest of their time in Russia, and was something they both hoped would follow them back to Japan when the time eventually came.

That time, for as inevitable as it was, felt as if it did come too soon, though, as the remaining days and weeks shifted into what sometimes felt like minutes and even seconds, times of shared meals and cuddling interlaced with practices and sleep being almost too happy, at least, if happiness was a gauge of how quickly time moved.

Before either really knew it, it was nearly showtime, and as they locked lips while sitting on the couch in the main room with a cell phone going off, Viktor found himself almost painfully having to pull himself away.

“This is it, I guess...Last day here, already.” He spoke quietly yet confidently as he managed to force himself up and onto his feet, gathering a few belongings as he almost unknowingly kept some form of contact with his guest all the while.

“Any idea how long it might take?” Yuuri asked as he ran a hand through his hair and fixed up his own image some, a sight which had only gotten messier the longer they had continued to kiss.

“Only a few hours, maybe three or four, depending on how many other competitors there are.” Nikiforov answered after thinking on it for a moment, going through a quick, mental double check before tying his shoes and collecting his keys.

“Mhm, well, feel free to hurry, for me.” Katsuki said, licking his lips slowly as he watched the choreographer take a few more steps around the room, openly admiring how well certain assets seemed to stick out in his current pair of pants.

“You uh, you should come, I’m sure it’ll be fun, er, I mean, more fun with you there, anyway.” The man spoke, trying not to blush or feel any other stray thoughts that crossed his mind and other parts of his body as he stood by the front door.

“Ah, it’ll take me a bit to get ready, we might end up being late, and that’ll probably just make him angrier than usual.” The performer somewhat joked as he got to his feet and slipped on a pair of socks.

“I...I don’t think that’s possible, really.” Viktor played along, wrapping his hand briefly down his pupil’s lower back and using his opposite hand to trace around his shoulder for a moment, before getting a soft kiss placed on his nose.

“Get the car warmed up, will ya?” Katsuki warmly instructed as he pulled himself back and left to dress himself more properly, shooting a wink back at his host before disappearing around a corner.

As soon as both were certain they were ready, they headed out and made their way over to the venue of the competition, enjoying some of the sights the earlier morning setting gave as they hummed along with the radio and subtly danced in place until they finally reached their destination.

Yuuri ended up in one of a few reserved seats in the front row as Viktor headed to the back to prep and pep Yurio up to the best of his abilities, going through his routine a few times before the lights began to dim and the surprisingly full arena took their final positions before the various performers came out and did their dances.

The two sat right next to each other, hand in hand as they awaited Plisetsky’s number and name to be called, both lighting up with cheers and claps, as did the rest of the audience, watching eagerly and intently as the backdrop for his routine, a song called “Agape”, began to get louder and louder.

His movements were smooth and fluid, the way he shifted from one end of the stage to the other without seeming to even move made it all the more mesmerizing, especially for Katsuki, who found it incredible that someone with both raw, natural talent, and Viktor’s training could perform in such a manner at such a young age.

Despite the song only lasting a few minutes, the routine could have gone on for hours, and no one in the packed house would have known any better, that was just how entertaining and professional Yurio proved to be, and as he did a few more slides and a final roll into the middle of the stage, the audience couldn’t help but cheer.

The deafening sound of their claps and shouts were more than enough evidence as to who would ultimately win this competition, and after a dozen or so performances and a few minutes spent deciding by the judges, it was revealed to be true, as Yurio triumphantly stood on the center podium and had a medal placed over his head.

“Thank you all for coming out and watching me win.” Plisetsky flatly spoke in his usual yet somewhat smug tone, not one for long winded speeches, especially when the outcome had been so very predictable, to him anyway.

Still, the audience clapped and cheered for him as he held the bouquet above his head and the two runner ups did the same, and after a few minutes that were designated for those who wanted to take pictures, family members and press members alike, Yurio was soon backstage again, where both his coach, and his “date” had been waiting.

“Thanks for helping me out on such short notice, er, for doing your job, anyway.” The smaller boy spoke with an almost cutting level of attitude and anger after initially having a calmer tone, leaving the silver haired man almost stunned with how even a flawless victory didn’t seem to change his mindset.

“Well, of course, it wasn’t a problem, I’d say it was fun, even.” Viktor replied, arms crossed and a smile on his face as he opted to simply ignore the dancer’s demeanour and focus on his win instead.

“That’s great for you.” Was just about the last thing Yurio mumbled back before turning and conversing with some of the others who were backstage, eventually chatting up Yakov before the area started clearing out and the day winded to it’s end.

Katsuki had merely stood in silence the entire time, still processing just how talented the blonde boy who was standing feet away from him was, and just how much Viktor’s training could help in the long term, if he thought himself naturally gifted before, it was hard not to question just how good at dancing, let alone stripping, he actually had been.

It was then that an idea started to take shape, something that he maybe once or twice thought of in the past, but had somewhat let go of until recently, something he hoped would not only improve his own moves and abilities, but would also end up keeping his coach closer to home after everything was said and done.

“Viktor, can I tell you something?” Yuuri spoke quietly and calmly, reaching his right down and firmly grasping the choreographer’s before he got his attention and turned to face him.

“What is it?” Nikiforov curiously replied as he held off a blush of his own, taking hold of his opposite so that they were stood, hand in hand as the few people around them slowly started exiting the back room until they were just about alone.

“Well, a while ago, I considered...competing, in something like this, one way or another, but for all my praises, I didn’t think I was good enough.” Katsuki started explaining, his face feeling hot and turning a light shade of red as he went on.

“But after watching what Yurio can do at such a young age, what your training did for him, and just...this whole trip, I guess, I’ve started to think I might er, have a shot, if you help me.” He nervously continued, avoiding eye contact for several minutes and barely held himself in place.

“Oh...Of course! Of course I’ll help you! It might be a bit tough, but yes! I'd be honored to try and help make your dreams come true!” Viktor excitedly replied after a moment, wrapping his arms around the performer and hugging on him tightly, subtly shaking him in place as he peppered his forehead with kisses.

It might not have been something he’d thought himself capable of, but as Katsuki stood there, wrapped up and held tightly, on the verge of tearing up as the man warmly smiled and kissed on him, he thought that, maybe, he really could enter a competition one day, and maybe even win.

By the time either had let go of their grip, Yakov, along with everyone, save a blonde boy, had vanished, the day still rolling on despite the revelations and decisions the two had so eagerly and happily made.

With Viktor nodding and going off to collect a few bags and speak to his former coach, it left Plisetsky and Katsuki in the same room, alone, with one keeping their head shoved in their locker, and the other merely looking around the deserted backstage area to kill time.

Before he knew it, Yuuri had been nearly left alone, standing silently with his arms crossed, though instead of staying in the somewhat crushing quietness, especially when compared to the crowd and their earlier cheering, he opted to follow Yurio, who had a bag on his side and was marching towards two large doors at the end of a hallway.

It may have been possible that the blonde was attempting to intentionally leave the performer alone, but he didn’t seem to have much of a change in his stern attitude when the man entered what turned out to be a sort of dancing studio, though that could have just been how he always was.

“Er, mind if I uh, join you?” Yuuri asked, stopping in his tracks as he realized that, despite the familiar settings and equipment, he’d basically just wandered through a building on his own.

“As long as you and the old man are done making out, I guess.” Yurio cuttingly replied, placing a leg up on a bar and stretching it out, clearly trying to ease himself up and unwind from what, despite his talents, had to have been a grueling performance.

Somewhat reluctantly, as he wasn’t quite sure if he should take a possible hint and leave, or merely follow up on his request, Katsuki mimicked the blonde’s actions and stretched himself out as well, making sure to keep his distance, out of fear of angering the boy any further than he might have already.

“Say, uh, how did you get so good? I mean, I'm sure you've had the talent for a while, not to mention Viktor's help, but how did you like, perfect it?” He eventually spoke from what felt as if it was a room away, sliding his lower back against the metal before resting himself against it.

“Are you really going to ask me a question like that? You honestly, really have to ask?” Plisetsky replied, fiery tone and all as he halted his movements somewhat suddenly and reached for a water bottle before taking a sip from it.

“Er, I didn’t mean to offend, I just thought you were pretty impressive. Like, I might be good, but I think you're way better. I was curious as to how you got that way so that maybe I could...get some tips?” Katsuki futilely attempted to calm with a dry laugh, running a hand up through his hair as he wondered just how mad the kid could get.

“You’re naturally gifted, supposedly, and you have a world class dancer turned choreographer who’s meant to be helping you with your routines or something, right?” The boy started back, stepping up towards the performer as he dropped his drink on the ground and received a nod in reply.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t fucking distract him as much, and trust me, I can tell he’s distracted. It’s pretty damn obvious that he's been unfocused, thanks to you.” Yurio went on, a finger nearly poking at Yuuri’s chest as he stared up at him.

“If you two can keep your hands off each other for a few minutes, and actually, properly work together, you might have a chance to one day be half as good as I am. Figured that'd be obvious.” He picked back up, his tone filled with frustration and his eyes narrowing as he dropped his arm and moved back some.

“Or you and the geezer can keep doing whatever it is you do when you’re not in public and keep being mediocre compared to someone like me. I don't really care what you do, but let's get on with it.” Plisetsky finished, going back to a few subtle, relaxing motions without seeming to have missed a beat.

Yuuri stood stunned for a minute, jaw dropped and blushing at the accusation and bewildered by the force that just hit him in the face, so much so that he ended up putting a hand to his chin before he began snapping himself out of everything with a few blinks and absently watched the dancer take hold of the railing that was in front of them.

“Oi, stripper! Hello! Are you going to grab the bar, or do you really need someone to tell you how to do everything in your life?” The boy chimed back in, intensely staring over at the man as he stood in wait.

“Wait, I...What? What’re we doing now?” Was all Katsuki managed out in a quieted tone of voice as he slowly came out of his own thoughts and back into reality, still dazed some as he found himself unsure of what was happening, let alone where he was at this point.

“I’m going to show you a few moves of mine so you might start figuring out what real practice is, That's why you're here, isn't it? Is this what the old man has had to put up with?” Yurio said, nodding towards the mirror filled wall that was in front of him as indication of what he wanted the performer to do.

“Oh! Okay, sure! Sorry, I just kind of, ah, let’s practice, then.” Yuuri eventually managed back, leaning himself forward and gripping the metal before following the boy’s instructions and maneuvers to the best of his abilities.

Hours passed and, to his surprise, Katsuki managed to learn a few things from Plisetsky’s admittedly harsh way of teaching, a few ways of spinning and sliding, different ways of stretching his body outwards, and quickly bringing it back in. All things that he could definitely incorporate into any routine he wanted, be it a casual one, or something for his competition hopes.

“You know, you’re...not half bad, for a stripper anyway.” Yurio somewhat complemented as their impromptu training session came to an end, though it wasn’t easy to decipher if that’s what it was or if it were some form of insult.

“I, uh...Thanks, thank you. It’s good to know I’ve got a head start, huh?” Yuuri replied in stammer, blinking as he tried to process Plisetsky’s remark, ultimately deciding to take it in a good light when he was greeted with a raised hand and engaged in a handshake.

Neither said another word as they cooled off and prepped to leave, merely exchanging nods and, on Katsuki’s end at least, a smile, the man showing appreciation of the skills and movements he hoped his mind would retain as he took his coach’s hand and exited the building.

Out of what felt like nowhere, the last day in Russia for both Viktor and Yuuri was now suddenly upon them, and though they’d spent their time as well as two men such as themselves could on a trip like this, Nikiforov wanted to be sure that it was a day to remember for his guest and pupil.

He treated the performer to anything and everything, from simply cuddling in his bed in the early morning, to any sight or restaurant they happened to pass by that looked like it’d be worth it, even if it ended up lacking in some way, the laughs and expressions they shared made the experience worth it for both of them.

“S-So, er, have you looked into any competitions that might be starting soon?” Viktor asked as they found themselves sitting in a booth that was on a patio, sipping warm drinks and awaiting a meal as the sun slowly faded from the sky.

“Ah, I haven’t really had time, of course, but I think I know of one, it’s a multinational thing, most of them are, actually.” Yuuri replied with a chuckle to his voice and a brief flash of red running across his cheeks, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly as he took a sip.

“I guess I should have led with that today, huh? Don’t worry, there’s no rush to find one, we’ll get you something perfect, I’m sure.” Nikiforov said warmly back, extending a hand and gently laying it on the top of one of the performer’s as they stared at each other for a moment.

“Ah, maybe, but it’s not a bad idea to get a jump on some serious training, though, when we get back, I mean.” Katsuki spoke back, stirring his drink some with a spoon as he shifted his gaze into the liquid for a moment.

“It’s just, it’ll be weird, having a sort of...final performance, at the Ice Castle, I never thought I’d really leave it for too long, you know?” He went on as their meals finally arrived and the two of them sorted out the food between each other.

“Again, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, don’t let the feeling get to you, at least, I know it’ll go well.” The man on the opposite side of the table spoke, clenching his hand some as he lifted his student’s arm up and shifted his grip so that they were holding hands.

“Besides, if you want, I’m sure they’ll welcome you back with open arms, especially when you show up with a gold medal around your neck.” Viktor confidently and warmly added, smiling as his fingers found their way between Katsuki’s.

“Oh? Ah, you’re right, I’ll be world renowned when I get back, and I’ll be able to add some flowers from the crown and bouquet to my outfit too, huh?” Yuuri replied with a chuckle to his voice, fixing his glasses up as he matched Nikiforov’s grin and held onto his hand tightly.

Though the task of getting up to any competition’s level of standards alone was surely going to be a steep one, as Yuuri stared into Viktor’s eyes, his gaze almost unwavering from the time they finished their meals to the time they ended up back at his house and in his bed together, he felt as if the climb might not be too difficult with the extra support.

There was still one more roadblock ahead, though, and that was the “Farewell” show that would be waiting for them back in Japan, an effort that would need to have all the stops pulled out, that needed to be his best performance yet, and an effort that he wasn’t going to be facing alone.

Chapter Text

Following their return to Japan, and a day or so of resting thanks to jet-lag, the two mostly returned to what life had been like prior to Yakov’s phone call, merely researching various competitions and attempting to decide which would fit best in some of their shared free time during the week before one was set to resume his work.

Despite this, it still took until the day before Yuuri was meant to go back to the Ice Castle before they had hammered out the details on one that seemed the perfect match in terms of time, locations, and competitors, with Viktor helping fill out the few required forms into the evening.

As soon as they were all done and submitted, though, the two mutually decided to stay up late, eagerly awaiting the inevitable confirmation email and eventually reading it over before passing out on the couch together, sharing a blanket as night fell and sleep overtook them.

After a nice, warm night’s sleep, a stray hand or two reaching below his belt, and a good morning kiss, Katsuki returned to his job and hadn’t seemed to miss much of a beat, slipping back into his routine, both personally, and professionally with ease.

Though, given that he ended up being a few hours early on account of being woken up thanks to a touch that had ran around his chest, he didn’t mind striking up a conversation with someone who was dying to know a few details.

“So, how was Russia? Was it fun? Did you two have a good time?” Phichit’s familiar voice questioned, leaning forward as the man put a few finishing touches on his face and finished switching into his performance attire.

“It was alright, cold, colder than it is here, even with Winter going on.” Yuuri warmly replied, flipping his hair around some as he put it into the exact spot he wanted, combing it back to help it stay in place.

“And I think we did, I did anyway, Viktor, he was pretty excited, to be home, I mean.” He went on, chuckling to himself some as a brief flash of a certain night went through his mind and brought a tinge of red to his face.

“Oh, I bet, he’d only been coming here to see you for, what? A month? Two? Not surprised he’d be a little homesick.” Phichit playfully remarked, fixing some of his makeup and dressings in his mirror for a moment before smiling towards his friend.

“Heh, good point, I hadn’t thought about it. It hasn’t felt that long, actually, but I guess you’re right...” Katsuki’s reply slowly shifted into a mumble, having not thought too deeply about how much time they’d spent together, and the impacts one had on the other as that time went on.

“Ah, anyway, you know that thing I’ve always thought about doing?” He stopped for a moment, finding the appropriate words. “Well, we actually...entered into a competition last night, and I think they allow certain props, I just have to keep my clothes on.” He shifted topics, still maintaining a slight smirk as he moved his items to his small locker.

“That’s great, dude! I’m glad you finally went through with it!” Chulanont immediately spoke back, wrapping his arms around his fellow performer and squeezing tightly as he shook him in place.

“When’s it happening? Where’s it happening? I want to come out and watch!” He added on before releasing the man, smiling widely and warmly as what had been a bit of anxiety for Katsuki was excitement for his friend.

“I think it’s uh, in about a month, and I’m going to be getting more time off about a week before it starts. It’s an international thing, but it starts here in Japan, if I make it to round two, then I’ll be going somewhere else.” Yuuri happily explained, rubbing his left up the back of his neck as he found himself blushing again.

“Aw, and you just got back to work, too. Still, I’m really proud of you, for finally going through with it.” Phichit said back, unable to resist hugging his friend again as the prideful, almost electric feeling clearly rang throughout him.

“Yeah, but...I’ll be coming back, eventually, don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to really quit this place.” Katsuki warmly replied, hugging his fellow performer back before the two finally separated again.

The two went about their final preparations before the day truly began for either of them, both eagerly going to work as both dancers, and waiters, as the day seemed to have a ray of happiness that would linger on for the majority of it.

Viktor, on the other hand, had woken up with such a mood, with pride and excitement swelling inside of him as he eventually got out of Yuuri’s bed and ended up setting a morning meeting with a friend of his own.

“So, you two entered into a competition, huh?” Chris calmly spoke as he stirred his coffee and took a sip, arranging the two plates of food as they arrived at the table with his free hand.

“It was mostly Yuuri’s idea, he’s always wanted to try, but feels like I...Like I give him the confidence to do so, like he needs my support, I guess.” Viktor happily answered, taking a bite before dabbing his face with a napkin.

“Sounds like you two are pretty close now, eh? I told you he was good, didn’t I?” The man on the opposite side of the booth spoke, doing similar with his plate before returning to his drink.

“He is good, yeah, very good, and I guess we are getting close, huh? We were before, but now...” Nikiforov replied, thoughts somewhat scattered as he found himself lingering on an earlier kiss, remembering the feeling of warmth he’d wrapped his fingers around while he was in bed as if it were still there.
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“Need another drink or two, Viktor? Maybe something a bit stronger?” Chris spoke, laughing subtly to himself as he smirked over the table and somewhat rolled his eyes at the choreographer’s obvious mindset.

“Oh, I haven’t really touched my cup yet, so no thank you.” Viktor answered after a moment of checking his drink, the real meaning of the dancer’s words shooting straight over his head and getting a light scoff in reply.

Despite his comment missing it’s mark, Chris and Nikiforov went about enjoying their breakfast, with the latter telling a few stories about the trip to Russia and how Yurio’s performance went before the meals were finished and the two ended up going their separate ways with a handshake and a nod.

After spending the rest of the day taking in a few sights and generally resting, Viktor, as always, showed up at the club just in time for Yuuri’s return performance, cheering and clapping as he strutted and spun around the pole as if he’d never left, whistling whenever he tossed his heels and shirt off, eager to meet up with him in the backroom afterwards.

Most of their days went like this, though with Nikiforov often getting to the club the same time as Katsuki did thanks to a lack of plans or any other such reason not to be there, arriving with him most mornings and simply mingling with the eventual crowd or waiting in the restaurant portion for what was, to him at least, always the main event.

His performances on the stage maintained his usual level of skill and quality throughout the time he had left, arguably increasing with the practicing that would take place both before, and after them.

Most all of his talents talents being honed both for his job, and the upcoming competition as he worked with his coach on perfecting old maneuvers, and the newer ones he’d picked up in Russia.

It would all be put to the test, of course, not only during the tournament, but, as Katsuki had decided not long after returning to Japan, for what would eventually be his final performance in the Ice Castle, for some time at least, as well.

That day would come slowly, time dragging on a bit thanks to the familiarity of their routine, waking up, eating, and practicing before Yuuri’d go off and work while Viktor would cheer until it was time to go back home and cuddle until they fell asleep.

There were moments, of course, both in public, as Katsuki did his job on the stage, and in private, as Nikiforov did his best to teach and perfect his student’s moves, where one would get a bit closer to the other, lean in a bit too far, things maybe got a little heated, and it felt difficult, hard, even, to not get more intimate despite whatever their current location was.

Eventually, though, nearing the end of the month and their time in the Ice Castle, during what was meant to be the last practice before his “farewell” performance was set to take place, it would become too much to ignore.

They had taken up the small training room beyond the main stage, working thoroughly and intensely until the sun started going down thanks to Yuuri’s schedule only having him on for the main event of the evening, which had even been billed as a sendoff.

“Be sure to keep your legs extended all the way when you’re sliding down, try and get them flat against the ground if you can.” Viktor instructed, trying to perfect a move that the performer had first learned from Yurio, though he had to alter it somewhat to include the pole.

Katsuki strained and grunted as he slowly dropped downwards and eventually landed on the mat, resting in place for a moment before losing his grip and flopping backwards with a huff of air.

“You’ll have to try and hold it for longer when you’re out there, try not to be so, uh, you know, tense.” Nikiforov continued, almost biting his tongue before hoping that any innuendo in his words would be missed.

“Ah, well, I can think of one way to do that...” Yuuri replied, unknowingly dashing his coach’s hopes as he got up and claimed his water bottle, sipping as a few lines of sweat trailed down his forehead.

“Th-That’s, ahem, that’s not what I meant by not being tense, but I’m sure you know that.” Viktor somewhat joked back, running a hand up through his hair for a moment as the struggle of his situation started setting in.

He’d resisted most urges, just as Yuuri had, since they had returned to Japan, and it wasn’t as if either was lacking in that department, not with how much time they’d been spending together.

And as Nikiforov stood there, the room around him silent as his performer refreshed himself, he realized just how bad things really were, given that in front of him stood a sweaty, mildly panting Katsuki, with water slightly dribbling down his chin and his eyes as seductive as they day he’d first locked with them.

“You want to know what I know, Viktor?” Yuuri piped up as he twisted the lid on his bottle and sat it down, stepping from the makeshift stage and onto the floor, standing just a foot or so away from his coach.

“I...Probably shouldn’t, but, hah, sure, shoot.” The choreographer nervously replied, feeling a heat overcoming his face as he glanced over to a clock, wanting to be sure of the time if things went the way they were looking to go.

“I know that we’ve both been...good, that we’ve held off since our little trip, and that you’ve had it...pretty hard, watching me today.” The man spoke, putting on the tone he’d last used when they were in Russia as he inched up closer and his pauses lingered longer.

“Very hard, actually.” He sultrily added, his right hand going down below his coach’s belt and gently grabbing at the bump that had slowly formed over the last few minutes of their practicing and training.

“Er, might I ask where this is coming from, huh?” Viktor heatedly muttered out, having little else to use at the moment when it came to deflecting the very obvious point that his pupil was getting at.

“Probably from the times you’ve struggled letting go of me, from all those morning kisses...From the moans in your sleep, too.” Katsuki tauntingly spoke, putting emphasis on his last remark as he trailed two fingers upwards.

“Don’t think I haven’t heard you, lover boy.” He added, tightening his grip some before grabbing at the man’s side with his left, breathing heavily and intentionally on the choreographer’s reddening face.

“Ah...Do we, uh, really have time for this? We should be, I mean, you should-” Viktor attempted to question, wincing as his face burned up and his pants felt as if they were getting tighter by the second.

“You already know when I go out, and I saw you look at the clock. We have more than enough time.” Katsuki cut him off with a finger to his lips, almost nipping at his nose as he spoke.

“You haven’t gotten me off your mind since that night, have you? Did I get you that badly, Mr. Nikiforov? And these pants you’re ruining, what do you have to say for yourself?” He went on, stepping forward and bringing his coach with him as he palmed at the man’s crotch.

“Yes…” Was all that he got in reply, the word halting all of his actions almost immediately as he wondered for a moment if he’d finally, actually broken the poor man in his grasp.

“Yes, you did, and I want more, Katsuki Yuuri.” Viktor picked back up, his right quickly wrapping around and firmly grabbing the performer's ass, pulling on it as he started walking them back towards the practice stage.

“I need more of you, Katsuki Yuuri.” He continued, leaning forward before sniffing and kissing all over the dancer’s neck, peppering him with his lips until their progress was stopped when the back of Yuuri’s legs hit the mat.

“Did we lock the door? Phichit might come in, or anyone, for that matter.” Yuuri asked thanks to the remaining composure he had, snapping both of them out of the intoxicating allure of one another for a moment.

“Oh, of course, I did come in here with a plan, after all.” Viktor attempted to be a smooth as possible, unable to resist planting his lips against his student’s skin a few more times before he felt an arm pushing on his shoulder.

“You sure about that, coach? Because it looks like the latch isn’t turned from here, and that your plan already failed.” The performer replied with a laugh in his throat, nodding over towards the door that might not have even been fully closed as his partner moved briskly to it.

“Yeah, you go deal with that, I’ll just...Finish getting ready, I guess.” He added with a smile, getting an almost embarrassed one back as his choreographer hastily dealt with the lock, doing his best to keep his eyes on the dancer as he watched him strip his pants.

Nikiforov’s pants hit the ground as soon as the door was sealed and he began making his way back across the room, his eagerness showing both in his attitude, and other facets of his body.

Katsuki had taken the few spare seconds to get his top off and lean against the pole that was slightly slick thanks to his earlier efforts, his hair made up the exact same way that it was the first time his coach had seen him.

The choreographer’s hands were back on his student as soon as they could be, sliding up and down his sides as he planted his forehead against his and the two passionately kissed, tongues exploring mouths and whimpers going from one to the other as Viktor’s left gradually went over Yuuri’s thigh and between his legs, gently wrapping around the hardening length and pumping on it as he sucked on his lower lip.

It was all the performer could do to moan and pant every time they were even slightly separated, his eyes shutting as he felt himself being pulled on at a slowly increasing pace, even slipping into his natural, Japanese tongue a few times as the aggressive feeling his lover was portraying only made things hotter.

“I thought you said you’d, ah, get yourself ready, or were you a bit distracted…” Viktor lowly teased, noting how the man’s legs were still closed and how unprepared a certain other aspect of his body surely was as it seemed his eyes hadn't left the choreographer's body.

“Mh, sorry, I’ll get to work right away, coach.” Yuuri played along, stepping a foot out and bringing his right up to the man’s mouth and letting him suck and lick on his fingers for a minute, drenching his digits before he brought his arm down and began gently fingering himself.

“Good boy…” Nikiforov spoke in reply to his actions, still unable to pull himself from the alluring, sweet taste of his pupil’s lips, unsure if it was the lipstick he’d been wearing, or if it was just how he tasted, but relishing it either way.

Again slipping into his native tongue, Katsuki readied himself quickly, pumping his middle and ring finger inside and out as he grinded against the man’s hand, which was still firmly working at his shaft.

He wasn’t sure if Viktor would have merely went on like this until both were satisfied, or if he’d ever actually get to what was surely meant to be the main event between the two of them if he hadn’t nodded when he did, but he wasn’t sure if he would have complained, either.

“Mh, g-good, now, get me ready, too, and then I’ll really get to start training you.” The choreographer heatedly taunted, bucking his hips upward some as the dancer licked on his opposite hand and slicked his length up with his saliva, making sure to cover every inch before turning around and gripping the pole tightly.

“Take me, please Viktor, I-I can’t stand it anymore, please…” Yuuri playfully begged, knowing full well what his tone of voice and words would do to the man who was now prodding at his entrance.

“Damn, you’re needier than I am, huh, Katsuki?” Viktor taunted, his hands finding their way from the man’s sides to his rear before grabbing at it roughly, pulling it to either side as he bucked his hips forward and worked himself inside.

The room filled with moans and pleasured curses as the coach roughly started pounding into his student, kissing and sucking across the back of his neck and down his back some as his hands occasionally smacked at his ass.

Sure there was a room with a few other performers just beyond a single door at the other side of the small room they were in, and an increasingly large crowd beyond that, but neither found that they cared about anything other than their partner and the way they felt, physically, and emotionally.

It was all Yuuri could do to stay bent over at a comfortable angle as Viktor thrust into him, inching down the metal with the occasional ram of the man’s hips and the way they crashed into his backside only making it harder not to simply drop.

He kept himself up, though, gritting his teeth and moaning in Japanese while he felt himself getting slammed in both a physically gratifying way, and in a passionate one, as he felt the combination in each movement the man made, be it a spank or a thrust.

Viktor bit on his lower lip as he brought his left up to the dancer’s hair and gently took a handful of it, using his right to continue the occasional, light smacks as his hips did most of the actual, intensifying work.

He did anything to please his pupil, and whenever he got a moan or a whimper or some sort of pleasured noise, he’d do it again, and again, and then harder, he wanted the performer to feel as good as he’d made him feel all this time, not to mention how he felt in Russia when the situation was flipped.

The two could have been at this for hours and not have noticed, as it felt like it was both fast and rough, yet slow and passionate, full of grunts and groans of one another’s names as Nikiforov relentlessly pounded Katsuki against the pole until neither could take it for much longer.

“Fuh-Fuck, Yuuri, I don’t think I can...keep going, so tah-tight!” Viktor let out as he shifted his grasp to the performer’s hips again in attempt to keep himself steady and moving at the slowly dissipating pace he had been going at.

“Don’t stop, Vi-Viktor! I want it, ah, just give me everything you have!” Yuuri moaned back, eyes rolling upwards as he felt what he was sure his coach was currently feeling shoot through his body.

And so, as requested, Nikiforov continued giving it his all, even if his motions were slowing down and his speed gradually turned into an occasional buck or thrust, sweat sliding down his forehead as Katsuki clenched around him.

With that, Viktor finally broke, and upon feeling himself being filled to the brim and eventually overflowing with the load to the point that it leaked out of him, Yuuri wasn’t far behind, shooting his own mess downwards and onto the mat, some hitting the lower portions of the pole.

They held the pose for a few minutes, both riding out their orgasms together, complete with loud moans of each other’s name, and merely hanging onto the intimate pleasure for as long as it would linger with them, the coach leaning forward as his student all but collapsed onto the ground.

Before he could, however, the man was off his back and onto his feet, reaching a hand down to the sweaty performer and helping him up as well, a weak smile on his face as the two wobbled for a moment and tried to regain their balance.

A warm, heated silence filled the room as both men took the time to relax again, regaining composure and control over themselves while smiling and lowly moaning in their throats at one another, neither knowing quite what to do now.

“I, uh, I should probably go clean up and get ready now.” Yuuri eventually muttered out, face still hot and flushed as he wiped his brow and found himself lazily clutching onto his coach’s sleeve before managing to walk by him to try and reclaim his clothing.

“There’s still half an hour or so, if you want to-” Viktor playfully started back, feeling parts of him continue to twitch as he turned to watch the performer leave, getting a swift finger to his mouth due to his remarks.

“I think one, uh, good luck fuck is enough for now, lover boy.” Katsuki sultrily spoke, rolling his fingertip on the man’s lips subtly as he hitched a leg on his side and took in a handful of his silver hair with his free hand.

“But after the show…” He added on, taking the choreographer’s wrist and guiding his palm down and onto his ass again, nodding as he urged him to take a firmer grip on his flesh, to which the man eagerly did as instructed.

“For now, though, you’re just going to have to watch me work.” The dancer softly and heatedly spoke, resisting the desire to grind on his coach as he trailed his hand up and took hold of his chin, kissing on him passionately before finally breaking from him.

“Ah, I should hit the bathroom and freshen up a little too, after you, though, don’t want anyone to get any ideas, eh?” Viktor teased again, unable to keep his eyes off his pupil even as he watched him pull a bag from his locker and put on some spare clothing.

“Just get some pants on soon, I don’t want you standing back here, half naked for too long.” Katsuki played along, shooting him a wink and a smile from over his shoulder before unlocking the door and going towards one that was labeled “employees only”.

With the help of a few paper towels he found sitting in Yuuri’s locker, Nikiforov did as told, getting his underwear and pants back on not long after the performer left the room, his smile remaining as he eagerly awaited his return.

After a few minutes of cleaning, and just generally wiping his face of the sweat that had coated it, Katsuki had came back through the doorway, ducking a few questions from an on-break Phichit about a few sounds he’d heard by easing the door shut while maintaining a similar grin on his lips.

“So, I guess you’re all set, then? With half an hour to spare, too.” The coach happily spoke, putting his arm quickly around the man’s waist as he felt a kiss land on his cheek and watched a flutter of the performer's eyes.

“I still need to change back into my actual outfit, but yeah, this is about it.” The dancer replied, a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and wonder building up in his chest as the situation truly started to set in while he changed clothing and the few minutes that remained felt as if they passed as seconds.

This would be the last time he’d stand in the spot he was in, in the club and the Ice Castle as a whole, he’d be away from friends, family, and the familiar crowd for who knows how long, especially if he made it beyond the first few rounds, things felt scary for a moment.

It passed quickly, though, as Nikiforov took note of the nervous look that had formed on his face and tightened his grip on the man, wrapping one arm around his waist and his other arm around his shoulder and bringing him in for an intimate hug.

“You’re going to do great, both tonight, and later on. And I’ll be right here, every step of the way, I promise I’ll be close to you.” Viktor soothingly spoke, nuzzling and ruffling up Katsuki’s hair as the time drew near.

“Th-Thank you, Viktor, no matter what happens, during tonight’s performance, or the competition or anything else, just, you staying close to me, through anything, is all I’d ever ask.” Yuuri warmly replied, the fires of anxiety being slowly extinguished and replaced with something more loving.

The two held one another all the way to the end of the waiting period, indulging in another, deep kiss before the performer fixed himself up some and a voice boomed over the sound system beyond the door, fate finally calling him back out onto the stage.

His choreographer watched every minute of his intense, impressive performance, applauding and cheering with the immense crowd each time he nailed a slide of his legs or spun himself around.

Both the man and the group got louder any time a more exotic move was perfectly delivered or an article of clothing was stripped off, everyone in the room staring as the dancer moved into the last parts of his routine in his red heels, long leggings, black gloves, and his usually tight, dark red underwear.

It was soon time for the maneuver he’d decided to make his finisher for this night, and a flash of anxiety flashed up as he remembered struggling to keep his legs out earlier and a bit of fear seeped in through his usually confident look.

However, thanks to a quick spin that let him look backstage at his joyous coach, he climbed the pole, stretched his legs, and slowly dropped towards the stage as the beat of Eros swelled before expertly executing the move to rousing applause and whistles from the group that filled the room, eyes shut as he let that feeling take hold instead.

Yuuri’s chest heaved as he panted and lightly sweat, holding his pose as he looked out into the crowd and took in the feeling that the environment of the Ice Castle gave him, that it had always given him, and felt as if he was now truly ready for the next, silver haired step of his life.

Viktor, unable to help himself, rushed the stage as soon as the performer was on his feet, almost tackling him with a hug as he cheered with the audience for a moment, placing an arm around his waist, lifting one of his legs, and soon leaning the dancer backwards some as he deeply and thoroughly kissed him to an even louder ovation.

The two, once their lips were broken and both were standing upright again, could do nothing but smile at one another with reddened faces and fluttering eyes as the stage was coated in everything from flowers to money, and after a nod from Nikiforov as he gripped his wrist and raised his arm up in congratulations, with happiness and tears overflowing, Katsuki took his much deserved and well received bow.