Archive of Our Own

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

Yuuri stood opposite Victor, who was sitting at the kitchen island doing paperwork. Yuuri knew there were forms and releases that coaches had to submit before competitions, but the sheer amount of papers scattered everywhere was enough to make him flinch from phantom paper cuts. 

Victor, coach and angel that he was, had his laptop open on top of and among the forms, multiple tabs open to translate the Japanese in front of him into English and then Russian, just to make sure he filled everything in properly. This being his first season as a coach and competitor, he didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to think badly of himself or Yuuri. 

At the moment though, Yuuri was only thinking of Victor. Pulling double duty as coach and competitor was starting to take a toll on him. He woke up early, walked Makkchin, made breakfast and made sure both his gear and Yuuri’s were packed before Yuuri had even gotten dressed. In the beginning, Yuuri had felt unnecessarily spoiled, but now he was just concerned. He grew up working in an onsen, so he could handle keeping the apartment clean and spoiling Makka. Victor’s hard work and dedication were one thing, but this kind of intense routine was leaving him exhausted physically and emotionally. Yuuri was going to break the cycle.

“Dance with me,” Yuuri said decisively, shutting Victor’s laptop from across the island. It wasn’t a request so much as an order. 

Victor rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to release the tension currently living there rent-free. He opened his computer back up and grabbed the next form in his pile without looking at Yuuri. “My love, you know any other time, I would, but your paperwork needs to be in by the end of the week.”

Yuuri started walking around to where Victor sat. On closer inspection, he could see the purple shadows underneath Victor’s normally shining blue eyes. His usually perfectly-coiffed hair stuck up in the back from running his hand through it in frustration. Yuuri tried his best to be persuasive, slowly pulling the form from his coach’s hand. “So you have until the end of the week to finish it. Dance with me.”

“I can’t. As your coach, it’s my job to make sure everything is in order for competition. I have to put your needs above everything right now.” Victor took a quick sip from a cold cup of tea Yuuri is sure he had made for him hours before. The Japanese skater rolled his eyes and took the cup before Victor could swallow the concoction. Victor was dedicated, but Yuuri was stubborn. He was going to use the Russian’s logic against him.

“If that’s the case, then I need five minutes of your time and your undivided attention.”

“Yurri-”

Yuuri made it around the island and turned Victor’s seat so he could gently put his hands on his shoulders. He looked Victor in the eye, trying to show all the concern he felt. “The last few weeks, you have been my roommate, my rinkmate, my competitor and my coach. I miss my fiance.”

Victor sighed, not at Yuuri but because he knew Yuuri was right. Victor used to enjoy trying to flirt with and fluster his student during long practices. They would spend their off-days cleaning their apartment together, chatting and sharing stories that often ended in side-splitting laughter or silly debates. They would call Mari or Phichit or Chris, snuggling together on the couch in a blanket while sharing the latest gossip or news in the skating community. Victor missed it. Lately, his touches had become forced and his conversations short and clipped. He owed it to Yuuri to make an effort, just like Yuuri did every day living in St. Petersburg. 

Victor looked at the time on his laptop. “Five minutes?”

Yuuri nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

Victor took Yuuri’s hands from around his shoulders, instead holding them gently and running his thumbs along the backs. He couldn’t remember the last time he stopped to do this. “Five minutes,” he said finally. “Then I go back to work.”

“You sound like Coach Victor,” Yuuri sassed, pulling his hands up to cup Victor’s face. His hands were warm, and Victor leaned into them instinctually. “Where’s my fiance? Where’s my Vitya, hm?”

A smile that started small grew as Victor let himself relax into his fiance’s grasp. God, how long had it been since he gave himself a minute to just be? Long enough, apparently.

“There he is. There’s that smile I fell in love with.” Yuuri smiled back at Victor, leaning closer to put a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hi.”

“Hello. You want to dance? Was there a particular song you wanted to hear?”

“Nope. Just a dance. Radio Roulette.” Yuuri pulled his phone out of his sweats pocket. The bluetooth speaker in the living room chimed as it synced with the phone and Yuuri pulled up his music. 

Victor cocked his head in confusion. “Radio Roulette? That sounds ominous.”

Yuuri just laughed to himself, remembering the late nights in college that inspired the name. “It’s a game Phichit and I used to play when we needed to let loose, forget our skating for a bit. You hit shuffle and whatever songs come up in the amount of time you give yourself, you just rock out to. No competition, no particular style. Just enjoy it.”

“Indeed? Well, we have five minutes. Let’s see what the game has for us.”

Yuuri hit shuffle and looked at Victor mischievously. Over quiet drums and a steady bass line, a weirdly familiar British voice bopped about just wanting to dance. Both Yuuri and Victor bounced on their toes in time with the beat, neither man caring about precise choreography. Victor suddenly recognized the song and turned to look at Yuuri, who had his eyes closed as he danced around the living room.

“How do you have this song?”

“Vitya, I’ve heard you singing it around the apartment. You told me it’s been stuck in your head for weeks, so I tracked it down.” He grabbed Victor’s hands and pulled him into a pseudo-swing dance. “Now, dance with me.”

My name is Olly, nice to meet you can I tell you, baby

Look around there's a whole lot of pretty ladies

But not like you, you shine so bright, yeah

I was wondering if you and me could spend a minute

On the floor up and close getting lost in it

I won't give up without a fight

I just wanna, oh baby

I just want you to dance with me tonight

So come on, oh baby

I just want you to dance with me tonight

They bopped and air-guitared and ‘ooh-ed’ along with the song for the full three and a half minutes. When it was over, the two of them were on opposite sides of the sofa. The shadows were still under Victor’s eyes, but the light in them showed how much fun he was having. He couldn’t resist breaking his own agreement, knowing they were going to dance much longer than the five minutes he promised. 

“One more?” he asked.

Yuuri hit shuffle again, this time an alternative song blasted through the speaker. 

Some legends are told

Son turn to dust and to gold

But you will remember me

Remember me , for centuries

And just one mistake

Is all it will take

We'll go down in history

Remember me for centuries

The heavy guitar perfectly captured the frustration Victor had been feeling. His bangs flew and his arms flailed as he aggressively danced along with Yuuri who was jumping on the sofa with no regard to its structural integrity. 

For another four minutes, the skaters danced, and when the song was over, Yuuri didn’t wait for Victor to ask. He hit shuffle and had the audacity to look offended when a Disney song came on. Victor laughed at how adorable his fiance looked when he was baffled. They both recovered quickly, this time pretending to surf and swim around the apartment as Sebastian sang about life under the sea. The lyrics were in Japanese, so Yuuri sang along with over-exaggerated facial expressions that made Victor laugh while they continued to dance.

“I can’t believe you have this in your library!”

Yuuri didn’t even look embarrassed. He just looked flushed and happy. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game!”

With finality, the song ended and a new one started almost immediately. It started slow, just vocals and strings, but Victor recognized the song. It was a cover of one of his favorites, the back-and-forth between English and French enchanting him. He started swaying in place as he took in the melody and let it wash over him. Victor usually sang the French quietly to himself when he was distracted or working through something. It brought him comfort and made him feel safe, and Yuuri knew it, even if he didn’t know what the words meant in their entirety.

Slowly, Victor walked over to where Yuuri was standing and took the remote gently from his hands. Yuuri looked apprehensive, until Victor started the song over and pulled Yuuri close in a traditional ballroom-style hold. For a moment, they turned in a slow circle letting their breathing slow and taking each other in. Yuuri let go of Victor's hand and arm, opting to wrap his own arms around his fiance and pull him closer. Victor let himself be held, his arms coming up to rest snuggly around Yuuri’s shoulders.

The lyrics’ switch to French made Victor think about the sight of Yuuri dancing around their apartment, how he had looked innocent and young and relaxed with each and every song that came on. If Victor thought himself disheveled, Yuuri was positively a mess. His hair fell in his flushed face, fluffy and tangled from jumping around like a teenager, and his sweatshirt was long gone, thrown over the back of a chair when the tempo of the songs increased. Victor decided on the spot that this was one of his favorite looks of Yuuri’s.

“I missed you,” Yuuri said after a moment.

Victor put a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m right here, my love.”

Yuuri pulled away just so he could look Victor in the eye. “But lately you haven’t been. You’ve been so stressed trying to take care of me and Makkachin and yourself. I-I’m worried for you.”

Victor was touched at this vocal display of concern, but true to fashion, he didn’t want Yuuri to see. He was Victor Nikiforov , after all. He should be able to handle everything. So he tried his best to smile reassuringly and kissed Yuuri’s forehead this time before he spoke. “Maybe I am a little tired, but I promise, I’ve got everything under control.”

Yuuri frowned, and stopped their slow dance. He loosened his grip to put one hand on his fiance’s hip and the other on his cheek. “You know, you don’t have to do everything alone. We’re a team, you and I. I can help with paperwork and translating forms. We can take turns walking Makkachin in the morning. I know I’m not a morning person, but--” Both men laughed softly at Yuuri’s attempt at a joke. “We can stay home on rest days instead of wandering around the city. I’m not going anywhere, you know? I want to see all of your favorite places, and we have time.”

Victor was frozen in Yuuri’s embrace. Suddenly, all that he had been doing to make things easy for Yuuri were made apparent. He was doing two jobs and then some, and their relationship had almost suffered for it. How could he have been so selfish? The past few weeks must have been so lonely for Yuuri, when all Victor wanted was to make sure the move to St. Petersburg is worth Yuuri’s time. Just like Yuuri had done in the beginning of their relationship. He didn’t even notice that a few sparkling tears had fallen from his eyes until Yurri used his thumb to gently wipe them away. 

“Vitya?” The endearment made Victor’s heart hurt. Normally, his nickname was shouted at him by earnest fans or followed by a command from his coach. When Yuuri used it, it was gentle and full of love. Victor took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking around the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I don’t want you to miss Hasetsu or worry about anything but your skating for this season. And Makkachin was my dog first. I promised myself I wouldn’t burden you with all of the domestic stuff or the coach stuff. I want to be comfortable and happy here. I was trying to make this home for you.”

“Oh, Vitya. This is my home. You are my home. I am not some spoiled house guest that’s going to leave after a temporary stay.”

“What?”

Yuuri brushed Victor’s hair back and pulled his head down so their foreheads were pressed together. Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, like he was trying to breath peace into Victor’s space.

“I am not going anywhere, which means I am the one you call when Makkachin needs a walk or we have to pick up dinner or you need help translating forms in your fourth languag e. I told you that day on the beach, I just want you to be you. I am not not going to run away just because you’re human and you need help.”

The song changed again, but neither man was really listening anymore. Tears of relief and release fell from Victor’s eyes as he absorbed the tender declaration Yuuri just made. Yuuri wanted to help. Yuuri was on his team. Yuuri was staying. 

Yuuri was staying. It was something Victor didn’t know he needed to hear. The tension that had taken hold of his shoulders and neck was all but gone now, and he felt lighter than he had in weeks. He tilted his head until his lips met Yuuri’s, trying his best to put everything he felt into a chaste kiss.

“I guess something in me was waiting for you to decide this was too much...that I was too much. I think maybe I spent too many years alone, not having that kind of help.”

Yuuri smiled and put another quick kiss on Victor’s lips. “Get used to it, babe. You and I are an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Put us together, and we’re a powerhouse team.”

Victor put his arms around Yuuri again, sighing contentedly and forgetting the tears drying on his face. “Thank you anyway. For being here. For staying.”

“Not necessary, but you’re welcome, Vitya.”

They stood in each other’s arms for a minute more before the song changed again on the speaker, this time a techno-pop song about the sunset in Tokyo. Yuuri pulled back to smile at his fiance and put a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I think we went over the five-minute mark. Let me help you with those forms.” Yuuri tried to reach for a paper, but Victor took his wrist and put Yuuri’s arms back around him.

“I think the forms can wait until tomorrow. Let’s have one more dance.”