Chapter Text
Before Chris dropped the bombshell, Victor had been looking forward to spending time with his best friend. With Victor busy with skating and Chris thriving as a professional dancer, just this season added to Dancing with the Stars, they rarely got to see each other anymore. And it wasn’t that Victor was opposed to changing that. But, this…
“You want me to do what?” He slowly put down his glass of wine.
“I want you to be on the show. Ice skating is hot right now because of that viral video, and they want to do a special skaters only mini-season. You’d be a huge draw, we could hang out, and I’d get to introduce you to that dancer you’re so obsessed with. Katsuki, right?”
“You know damn well what his name is, Chris. You spent last season composing odes to his ass.”
Chris grinned. “Well, mon cher, it is a very nice ass, no?” He sprawled out on the couch, Makka resting against his legs as he drank wine straight from the bottle.
“Not the point.” Victor finished his glass in one long swallow. “Besides, even if you did introduce us, I’d probably just spontaneously combust before I could talk to him. It’s a travesty he hasn’t won every season he’s been on. The man’s a miracle.”
“A miracle you could possibly dance with if you agreed to be on the show.”
“Last I checked, they didn’t do same sex pairs on Dancing with the Stars, Chris.”
A sly grin spread over Chris’s face. “Ah, but that’s the thing, mon ami. This special season is part of a charity drive for LGBT groups. They’re doing a completely random draw on partners. The idea is to have pairs of all kinds represented. Surely, you would want to be part of something so important?”
“I hate you.” Victor sighed, getting up to grab another bottle of wine. “But, fine, sure. Sign me up.”
It was a good cause. And Victor had been thinking about being more vocal about his orientation now that he was too important in Russia for them to penalize him for it. And if they did, well, he was getting ready to retire anyway, and nothing said he had to do that in Russia.
Still, he’d never sought out that kind of celebrity. Being a famous athlete meant enough fake smiles and interrupted meals and all the wrong people trying to be involved with him. Going on a reality show could only make that worse.
And he’d have to be around Yuuri Katsuki, at least in passing. The man he’d been dreaming about for over three years now. The man that moved like magic and made music from his movements alone. The man who had been frankly robbed the entire time he’d been on the show.
Victor hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d combust. He lost the ability to talk just watching Katsuki on television. Being around him in person, Victor wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just drop to his knees at the man’ s feet and beg to be fucked raw. Wouldn’t that be a hell of a first impression?
##
The partner selection happened live on American television. Victor didn’t pay a lot of attention to the details. He learned the host’s names, he smiled charmingly, he gave witty answers to all the expected questions. All on auto-pilot while he took in his fellow skaters and marveled at how many of the major names they’d suckered into this event. He recognized everyone from Sara Crispino to that Canadian guy with the ‘J’ names. Even little Yura got involved.
Victor bet the show-runners regretted that one. They had to censor a third of everything out of the Ice Tiger of Russia’s mouth.
Because there had already been conspiracy theories on the partner selection process, the hosts had opted for as transparent and random an option as possible. So, they showed viewers a collection of chips with the dancers’ names on them, put those in a bag, and then had an audience member draw a chip for each skater. They’d even managed to make the whole thing part of the charity drive, with the chance to draw for someone having been auctioned off.
Yura got his partner first, a trio of girls in cat ears holding the bag together as a fourth picked the chip. Beaming she held it up to the camera: Phichit Chulanont.
Victor remembered the Thai man from last season. Bubbly, cheerful, infectious smile. Yuri was either going to kill him or melt into pure rage by the third episode. Should be fun to watch.
He watched from the screen that showed the camera shots in live time to the skaters that Yuri looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. He muttered something in Russian that Victor knew shouldn’t be aired, but the mics seemed, blessedly, to miss entirely. Probably the people in charge had just turned Yuri’s mic off at this point.
Next up, a quiet Chinese girl with dark hair and a strangely aggressive shade of purple lipstick drew for Guang Hong. The name on the red chip was Isabella Yang. A veteran, two-time winner. Good for Guang Hong. He was a sweet kid, and Victor really wanted this to be a good experience for the Chinese boy.
And then they were announcing Victor’s turn. The woman that had won the right to draw for him was pretty with ash blond hair and dark eyes. She kept winking at him as she reached for the bag, pushing her chest outward to almost comical proportions.
Probably good he intended to make his being gay very publicly known soon. But, that could wait. Right now, Victor held his breath as he awaited his fate. He preferred a male partner, but he’d be okay with anyone. Anyone but Katsuki. Victor needed to actually be able to dance. And not get arrested for public indecency when he tried to give his partner a blow job on air. Or, you know, ended up with a restraining order against him.
One slender hand with red and white nails disappeared into the bag. A chip emerged, was handed to the host. Was read. Yuuri Katsuki.
Victor stared for an endless moment, almost unable to suck in air. Pretty sure he’d pass out at any second. And then he snapped out of it as words escaped in a rush. “Oh no. Not him.” He threw his hands over his mouth in horror, but way too late. The entire audience had gone silent.
Next to him Yura burst out laughing.