Work Text:
“I have no clue what I’m doing,” Yuuri mumbled, his hands already freezing. “Couldn’t we do like… either or? Does it have to be together?”
“Yuuri,” Viktor chastised, the tip of his finger tapping impatiently against his chin. “I thought you said you wanted to be in the number I’m choreographing.”
Yuuri tested his weight on the pole for a moment, hoisting himself up onto his arms and hooking his leg around. “Yeah, well I usually pole dance with steady ground. And bare feet. And not five pounds of knife shoe.”
“Cher, you throw yourself three feet in the air with those boots on. There’s hardly a difference.”
Yuuri looked around at the bare bones of their set as if somewhere among the platforms and rolls of carpet he would find an answer. Art On Ice was a prestigious event—one which Viktor and Yuuri had been invited to choreograph after their programs and ice dances had brought world titles to a number of skaters.
“Vitya, Death of a Bachelor will be just fine if your pole dancer doesn’t also have to find his legs on the ice and skate in under eight counts!”
“In six exactly,” Viktor hummed, checking his notes. “I’m hurt, solnyshko , considering I fell in love with a skater and not a dancer. He just happened to be half-naked and bathing in champagne up on a stripper pole.”
God, Viktor was an impossible choreographer. This fight wasn’t exceptional. Almost every routine they worked on together had some element of his Viktor’s immovable and non-negotiable artistic vision that Yuuri had to 'just make work.' It was frustrating, sure, but it was also what made them stand out as a team. And Yuuri couldn’t resist the challenge.
He just didn’t want to bust ass trying to suspension walk down from an oona spin and directly onto the ice.
Christophe flexed into an attractive and technically perfect Allegra with his eyes trained on the quarreling couple. “I’ll be up on the pole the whole time, you know,” he purred, pulling up into a crucifix climb. “And besides, Niki asked for my help with the pole elements.”
“Not helping, Chris,” Yuuri moaned just as Viktor boomed his exasperated thanks. “Can’t we find a place where I can change into my boots?”
“Where, exactly, in this four-minute routine will you find ten minutes to lace up?” Viktor pressed. “Yuuri, just try it. Please. If it doesn’t work I promise I will make changes.”
Yuuri nodded, swallowing nervously.
“Just know that it means I will have to find another skater to do the ice dance with me, since you’re the one with the pole dance experience.”
No.
Yuuri wasn’t going to fall for that.
Viktor had one tactic that never failed to spark determination in Yuuri’s heart. He’s been using it since his first day in Hasetsu. He was a master of raising the stakes. He kept pressure low but consequences high--then left it up to Yuuri to choose. It was how he inadvertently teased out that first quad flip that shocked the world. It was how he convinced Yuuri to stay on as a competitor for not one but two more seasons. It was how they wound up with another dog, a destination wedding, and a pink convertible.
It was never manipulative enough to coerce Yuuri into anything he really didn’t want. It mainly stacked the odds in Viktor’s favor when they were at an impasse. Yuuri had his own version of this, which involved a little bit of lip gloss, a subtle pout, and a particularly well-fitting pair of jeans.
He mainly used it for extra cheat days.
Okay, but it wouldn’t make any sense for Viktor to skate with just anybody for this piece, would it? And it wouldn’t make any sense for Yuuri to stay up on the pole while he did. Not for an ice dance. Maybe if he went solo, but even then, he’d essentially be worshipping both Yuuri and Christophe. That’s not quite right for his story either.
Damn, Viktor was right, wasn’t he?
He knew Yuuri wasn’t going to let another skater take is place in the ice dance, and he knew once Yuuri thought through the theme, he’d agree.
“My Yuuri?” Viktor murmured, skating over to the edge of the pole’s platform. “What are you thinking?”
“You’re an ass and you owe me,” Yuuri deadpanned. “I need at least half an hour to work on that suspension walk with the skates, and I’ll need a bottle of wine by the end of the night to put up with your beautiful smug face.”
Both Viktor and Chris beamed.