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Summary
"So did you have any ideas?”
"Some sort of song about cats, I don’t know, like—” Yuri shrugs and then hums a familiar melody as he slides back and moves his arms in some improvised semblance of a choreo sequence.
“Okay, no,” Otabek says firmly. “I love you but no, I’m not choreographing anything to fucking Memory from Cats, Yura.”
(or: yuri gets otabek to work with him on a program, and otabek has several personal discoveries along the way)
