Chapter Text
It was the first time in my life I was thankful I was a nobody. I’d been training for so long to enter the yearly International Hero Trials that I’d long hidden my real identity deep down, under the mask and padding I wore on the outside. It was for the best. That way only I had to deal with my humiliation.
My name is Yuuri Katsuki. I’m 23 years old. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a hero. I knew that not everyone got a quirk- that strange super power that manifested differently in everyone, but both my parents and my sister had all developed a minor quirk. Nothing fancy that could qualify them as a superhero, but genetically it seemed a given that I’d at least get something. And so, from an early age, I trained. I wasn’t sure what kind of quirk I’d end up with, so I tried a little of everything. My best friend Yuuko and her family ran the local gym so I’d go and make vain attempts at push ups and weightlifting. By the time I’d hit the age of 12- the age many people’s quirks appeared at- I was ready. It was my biggest wish for Christmas that year.
Instead, I got him.
The Christmas Tsunami. It was all over the news for months, and I’m sure I watched the original video footage of the event hundreds of times. The day a sixteen year old boy stopped a tsunami and was immediately awarded entry into the International Hero Union...
Victor Nikiforov, his long silver hair billowing in the wild wind as he calmly walked out on the shoreline, closed his eyes and gracefully moved his arms in rhythm with the crash of the waves. It was as if he was conducting some unseen orchestra, his arms moving to the unheard melody as he deftly turned the oncoming waves to ice. I was in awe. Never had I seen a hero move with such calm, such artistry before. And the effects were so strong, so powerful- that the next monsoon season was prone to spontaneous snowfall. It was extraordinary .
I made it my new year’s resolution the next year, and the years after that. That someday, I too would be a hero worthy to stand by his side.
Now, I was facing the horrible reality that that was never going to come true.
“Welcome back to the 2016 International Hero Union Grand Trial Finale! By the end of the evening, we will have this year’s three representatives to the elite United Alliance Team. But first, let’s take a look at the current standings after yesterday’s battle simulator event.”
Yuuri took a deep breath, adjusting his mask. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that no one would be able to tell who he was behind an elaborately painted fencing mask, his nerves always brought his doubts to the surface. No one knew that there was a plain, dime-a-dozen Japanese hero hiding under the persona of Hokusai Wave. Modified deep blue fencing gear and a mask painted with the famous painting he took his namesake from was all that he had of a secret identity, but it was some small comfort. At least this way no one could see the puffiness of his eyes and question if he’d been crying.
He was fourth after last night’s battle simulator, having taken down the robots they’d set up against the heroes in a time only 1.2 seconds slower than the third place entrant. But a frantic phone call from his family that morning confirmed what he suspected when he woke up.
His beloved dog had passed away of old age and he wasn’t home for him. He felt terrible.
“I’m sorry Vicchan. I’ll do my best for you,” he murmured quietly as he walked out onto the battlefield.
The final test was a disaster simulation, and Yuuri had done his best to prepare for working with the other five contestants. But he also knew that he felt emotionally raw, his anxiety more on edge and his heart racing far more than usual; things he absolutely did not want to deal with when on the same stage as his hero.
The announcer rattled off a countdown and within seconds the simulated city had experienced three explosions.
Yuuri closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus. “Okay, so they’re running a terrorist attack simulation. First, I need to find the epicenter and assess the damage. Second, I need to check for any secondary bombs. Third, I need to sweep the surrounding area for the bomber. I can do this. I can do this.”
He opened his eyes and his body sprang into action.
“Congrats, I guess.”
Victor had finally managed to get away from the press and make it down one of the back hallways of the arena only to be cornered by Yuri Plisetsky, rising junior’s hero. Since they were both coached by the same man, Victor had somewhat taken the teen under his wing.
“You guess?” he asked bemused.
Yuri scoffed. “Though I’m not forgiving Mila for losing to that dumbass from Canada. Ugh. And what the shit did that Wave guy from Japan do? Did you say something stupid to him and piss him off?”
Victor frowned. He wasn’t honestly sure what had happened with that entrant. After showing great agility and skill in the trial the day before, somehow after Victor had approached him the guy had locked up.
“I have no idea what happened. I just came up to him and asked what his quirk was so we could figure out how to move that steel beam best. But he completely froze up and then ran off.”
Yuri kicked at the ground. “Hmph. Wonder if the kid had some disaster flashback. That happened to that kid in the Junior League last year pretty badly. Would explain why he did jack shit the rest of the trial and completely tanked his score.”
“Yuri, you’re a little young to be calling him a kid, you know.”
“ I didn’t tank my score. That jerk better watch it because next year I won’t take it easy on him either.”
Victor laughed, knowing that despite his vitriol Yuri meant what he said in the best way possible.
“Someone’s staring…”
Victor looked up at the crowd lingering at the end of the hallway. Most of the people were leaving the venue, but one man was staring pretty obviously at him.
“Did you want an autograph?” Victor offered.
The man started, eyes wide, before hastily turning away. Victor’s smile fell.
“Guess it must be lonely at the top,” Yuri muttered.
Victor’s frown deepened. Sadly, whether he knew it or not, the teen wasn’t far from the truth.
The last thing Yuuri wanted to do was hang around the IHU headquarters in Barcelona even if his flight home wasn’t until the next morning. But his coach, Celestino, had made a rather valid point that it was at least necessary to make a brief appearance at the post-event party. Not only was it a good time to mingle with fellow heroes, but also sponsors and fans. Yuuri didn’t voice his thoughts aloud, but he was just so thankful he was a masked hero right now that could pretend to be a nobody. People like the new United Alliance Team, the three heroes so esteemed they didn’t even have a secret identity, wouldn’t be able to hide amongst the crowd. Yuuri on the other hand was decided, he’d go, let Celestino talk to a few people, then bow out before he had to interact with anyone important.
Plus, as much as Yuuri wanted to put his foot down and stay in his room, he knew how important it was for Celestino to talk to sponsors at events like this. And while Yuuri knew no sponsors would probably care about him, he didn’t want to deprive his best friend Phichit the chance to snag some good endorsements.
So he’d put on his best suit, tried to make himself look more presentable than he felt, and trudged himself alongside Celestino to the event.
He hadn’t planned to stay more than an hour, but while Celestino made the rounds to the sponsors, Yuuri had tucked himself into a corner by the drink table. He’d been on his third flute of champagne when Celestino returned, telling him he had to take a quick phone call with Phichit then he’d be back.
Yuuri wasn’t sure how much time had passed, his mind already a little fuzzy from the alcohol. Just one drink more, then he should be back right? Yuuri suppressed a yawn. Hopefully he’d back soon and he could go to bed and forget the entirety of the last six months of his life.
The sooner he could forget about his brief encounter with Victor, the better.
Victor Nikiforov, superhero name Winter Monsoon, was the icon of the hero world. After becoming the youngest hero ever admitted to the IHU, he’d single handedly put such a dent in the influx of villains and troublemakers that it was often joked that he could put them all out of business. Of course, this caused a harsh backlash from the villain community; former adversaries beginning to team up to better their chances at going head to head with the ever stronger heroes. In turn, national hero unions immediately sought to team up with the United Nations to form a worldwide protection network, resulting in the formation of the United Alliance Team. At the age of 22, Victor was one of the first three members of the team. Now, at 27, he’d yet again placed 1st in the trials and earned himself a place on the team. To anyone else, it would have seemed like the man had it all.
But to Victor, it meant yet another year living at HQ and another boring banquet he’d need to charm his way through. Though he made sure to never let on, the job was beginning to take a rather hefty toll on him. Yakov had stressed it over and over to him, that if he even looked the slightest bit weak, it would spell disaster. If a villain could take down the Winter Monsoon, it would spell an end to the peace that the last five years had won them.
And so he smiled and carried on. Yet another banquet, yet another year to go. Nothing was going to change, was it?
“Victor, get your ass over here and film me kicking this guy’s ass!” Yuri’s voice cut across the small talk he’d been making with a few sponsors.
He flickered his eyes across the room to where Yuri had shed his dress jacket and tie and was beginning to...was he breakdancing? What in the world was even going on?
Victor made a few polite excuses and rushed over to the scene. Sure enough, Yuri Plisetsky had gotten himself into some sort of dance-off with…
He caught the glimpse of the man’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel he’d met him somewhere before. Yuri came over and shoved his phone into Victor’s hand, insisting that he record what was going on. Victor obliged.
A moment later, it clicked. Double-fold. The eyes- that was the man down the hallway that Yuri had seen staring at them. But the body- the way the man moved, that was definitely not just an average fan or sponsor. That was the same entrant in the trials he’d hoped he could have the chance to speak with. The one hero that ran when he spoke to him, Hokusai Wave.
Inwardly, Victor wondered if anyone else even realized who he was. It was always a bit strange with secret identities, but some people could easily see through them while others not so much.
“Someone’s got some sweet moves,” Christophe murmured closer to Victor’s ear than he would have liked.
“Chris.”
“Who’s the drunk?”
“I’m...not sure.”
Chris chuckled. “Yuri, who’s that kicking your ass?”
The teen swore as he fell, then glared over at Chris and Victor. “Some asshole who has my name.”
The two older heroes exchanged a bewildered look, but before either could question further, the man in question stood up and swerved in their direction, pausing to pick up the champagne bottle on the floor and knocking it back as if he was chugging water.
He was definitely drunk, Victor noted, his hair disheveled, jacket gone and tie askew, but still...wow, rather attractive. If he was correct about this being the man from earlier, then there had to be some glasses discarded somewhere as well.
“How much has he had to drink anyways?” Chris asked with a laugh.
Yuri, who had gathered up his jacket and was fuming silently beside Victor scoffed. “Who knows. He bumped into me, I asked him who the hell he thought he was, and he said his name was Yuri too.”
“And somehow that led into a breakdance off?” Victor asked.
“Yeah well- he started it.”
“Looks like he’s ready for round two,” Chris noted, pointing toward where Yuuri had found his way back to the drink table.
“Is he here alone? I mean, did you see him come in with anyone?”
Both Chris and Yuri shook their heads.
“I’ll just keep him company then,” Victor stated.
Chris raised an eyebrow and Victor knew that the closest thing he had to a best friend was clearly reading more into it than he wanted him to.
Well, someone should at least keep an eye on him, right?
Victor wasn’t quite sure what to do, but nonetheless he walked right over to Yuuri’s side.
“Uh...hey, you doing okay?”
Yuuri’s head whipped around, his eyes widening as his gaze landed on Victor’s.
“You’re…you’re Victor Nikiforov…”
Victor smiled, gently. “Yes, that I am.”
Yuuri stuck out his hand holding his champagne glass before realizing the error and switching to his other. “Yuuri Katsuki. I am honored to meet you.”
His hand was warm, and a bit sticky, but Victor just grasped it firmly.
“The pleasure is mine.” And for once, Victor actually meant it.
Yuuri’s face flushed red and before he could do or say more, he knocked back another glass of champagne. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Nerves.”
Victor laughed, light and honest. It had been awhile since he’d felt this open with someone.
“Are you here as a spectator, sponsor or… hero? ”
Yuuri dropped his hand and for a moment Victor was afraid he’d said too much. It was always hard to tell how those with a secret identity wanted it handled after all.
But then he felt the firm grip of the hand on his tie as Yuuri tugged him down to his level, his breath warm against his ear and the sensation prickling at his skin. Was this guy coming onto him?
“What do you want me to be, Victor ?”
He gasped. Never had his name sounded so... good . And sure, he’d had plenty of people flirt with him before, but well… he was never this interested in return. He reached up and slowly untangled the fingers from his tie, taking the hand into his own. “Whatever you want. But…” He trailed his fingers over Yuuri’s, feeling the rough calluses and scars on them. “I don’t think just anyone has hands like these.”
Yuuri smirked. “Ah, so you’re smart too. But then I knew that, I know everything about you…”
He’d pulled his hand free of Victor’s grasp, reaching up to press one finger across Victor’s lips.
“Can you keep a secret, pretty boy?”
Victor nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he’d do just about anything Yuuri wanted right now...
Yuuri smiled, languidly leaning in until his lips brushed against Victor’s ear. “You’ve probably heard of the hero of Japan…Well…” He trailed the finger off his lips and gently nudged Victor’s chin in his direction. “You’re looking at him.”
He leaned back, clearly curious as to Victor’s reaction to that statement. And he didn’t disappoint, quickly closing up the space between them and pausing only when his nose was alongside Yuuri’s, their lips only a hair’s breadth apart. “Then I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Hokusai Wave.”
Across the room, Chris finally hit the breaking point and yelled over. “Hey either invite me or get a room you two!”
Victor started to turn, ready to tell Chris off for interrupting, but before he could, he felt Yuuri’s hand on his wrist.
“Victor, get down.”
And before he could question why, the lights went out.
Nearby, he saw a small flicker of red dots go rolling by on the floor and immediately he knew what was happening. Someone had taken his guard down as a chance to attack. Shit.
Yuuri yelled from beside him. “Voltaic, get us some light. JJ get this bomb to Medusa. Physique, smash it. Everyone else, find the bomber.”
And although Victor knew they were probably as equally shocked as he was, the rest of the heroes jumped into action.
“Lights on!” Emil said, electricity still flickering between his arms and the ceiling.
“It’s…” The blur of the Canadian froze for a moment. Victor blinked and suddenly, there he was with his stupid pose, feet away from where he once stood. “JJ Style!”
Behind him, Sara Crispino held the bomb, her powers quickly turning it to stone before she tossed it across the room to Mila. And with her super strength, it was crushed in seconds.
Victor scanned the room to find Chris and Yuri both pinning down a person.
Chris, his arm aflame, held a black clad woman down. “I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re a lady, got that? Don’t make the Smolder scar such a pretty face…”
Yuri, who had Michele standing behind him pounding his steel-hardened fist against his hand, held his clawed fingers inches away from a man’s throat. “You try anything and I shank you, got that asshole?”
Victor turned to Yakov in the crowd. “Call the authorities, we’ll keep things under control until they arrive.”
His coach nodded, as the rest of the crowd began to murmur amongst themselves. Immediately, Victor noticed how many phones were out.
“Also, I would ask that any footage of this is not given out. We have many members of our hero community here tonight without their masks and it would be a breach of the code of secrecy put out by the IHU to betray their trust by making their faces public. I thank you in advance for your understanding.”
The crowd seemed to take the hint and slowly everyone’s phones disappeared back into their purses and pockets.
Victor felt a shaky hand at his arm.
“Thanks.”
He smiled back at Yuuri. “What kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my friends. If anyone is owed thanks though, it’s you. That’s some quick thinking in the heat of the moment. I owe you.”
Yuuri shrugged. “I’ll accept payment in the form of a dance.”
Victor blinked.
“From you. Once these scumbags are picked up.”
He turned back to the drink table and picked up another champagne glass, downing it as quickly as before. Victor was floored. How drunk was he and yet he still reacted faster than everyone else in the room?
Does he have some sort of quirk that can stabilize his mind despite the alcohol?
The doors burst open with a flurry of activity as the Police and Villain Suppression Force arrived and quickly escorted the two out. Reporters, of course, were not far behind.
“Okay, Yuuri. If that’s what you want. Let me take care of this first okay?”
He nodded and Victor turned to the familiar faces of the local action news reporters.
“Hello, I see you all wasted no time. Gotta have tomorrow’s headline, right?”
“Can you tell us what happened?”
“Who were they?”
“Which heroes did the saving? Are they the United Alliance Team?”
Victor shot them a winning smile. “Sadly, I cannot comment on specifics as we have several heroes here without their masks on. Usually this banquet is a time of peace when we can all let our guards down and relax. I’d hate to infringe on their trust by speaking out of turn to the media, you know?”
The reporters mumbled in reply, but Victor pressed on.
“So for now, let’s just say that the heroes at the scene handled it efficiently and effectively and that there is nothing to worry about, okay? I’m sure the Police can answer all your questions about the two that were apprehended, so you’d better go catch up with them.”
And not about to be beaten by the other news channel crews, all of them quickly filed out after the authorities. Victor took a deep breath. Good, they hadn’t pressed for names. That could have been messy.
Behind him, the chatter had relaxed amongst the guests and the heroes were all complimenting one another on their work. But Victor noticed one was missing.
Where did Yuuri go?
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
“I believe you owe me a dance, Mr. Nikiforov.”
And honestly not sure what had come over himself, Victor called over to Chris. “Hey, find some music. Let’s lighten things up a bit.”
Chris shot him a look and Victor knew he was going to hear about this for days to come. But as soon as Yuuri’s hand slid down his arm, Victor realized he really didn’t care what everyone was else was going to think for once. This time, he just wanted to enjoy each and every second in Yuuri’s world.
And either Chris had finally humored him, or someone else had, because some sort of flamenco music started up. Victor never had the chance to see who, because Yuuri had taken him in his arms and swung him immediately into the dance.
“I see you’ve done this before,” he quipped.
Yuuri spun him out and stepped back. “Perhaps,” he said coyly. The smirk was full of utter confidence though.
Not one to be outdone, Victor yanked his jacket off and flourished it. Yuuri rose to the occasion, holding his hands up near his temple as if they were bull’s horns. Someone in the crowd, most likely Chris, let out a low whistle.
Yuuri rushed past, snagging Victor by the waist as he did and drawing him around into his arms. He swung him back then lifted him forward, their noses brushing against each other.
“Wow,” he gasped out. “You are good.”
Yuuri trailed his hand down his side, gripping the back of Victor’s leg and pulling it over his own. “I’m just getting started.”
He dipped him again and Victor wasn’t sure if it was the dance move or something else that made him feel so lightheaded. But something about Yuuri made him feel alive in a way nothing had ever done before, made his skin feel as if electricity was dancing across it every moment he was able to touch him.
A laugh bubbled up in his throat, surprising even himself, as Victor found himself spun around and once again face to face with Yuuri.
“You should visit sometime,” he said as he spun Victor out and back into his arms. “I could teach you a move or two.”
Victor chuckled. “Oh. Well then I should probably teach you something in return, hmm?”
Yuuri’s finger traced down Victor’s cheek, his hand coming to rest over his heart.
“You know, I’d love that. Victor…” He leaned in, the dance abruptly forgotten as he just pulled Victor into a gentle hug. “I would. It would mean everything to me to learn from you. It sounds stupid, but I’ve always admired you, you know?”
He blinked, the sudden switch from coy to shy causing his heart skip a beat. “Yuuri?”
Victor was certain his face had to be as red as Yuuri’s was.
“You’ve always been my hero.”
And in that moment Victor really wanted to say he’d jump on the next plane to Japan to teach Yuuri whatever it was he wanted. Because although he’d been told that so many times by so many people over the years, something about it coming from Yuuri made him feel completely different.
“I’m...I’m truly honored, Yuuri.”
He pulled back, placing his hands atop Yuuri’s shoulders and smiled. “Hey, you must be tired. Is there someone here with you or…”
Victor had to admit, he was somewhat disappointed when he heard someone calling Yuuri’s name at that moment.
“Yuuri? Are you okay?”
Ah, it was his coach.
“I’m sorry for the trouble. I left to make a call and then with the police and everything.”
Victor shook his head. “It’s been no trouble at all. Yuuri here is who we have to thank for the matter being handled so quickly after all.”
Celestino looked surprised, glancing at the disheveled Yuuri and back to Victor as if he surely had to be mistaken.
Chris, who had thankfully kept his comments to himself up to this point, came over and tossed an arm around Victor’s shoulders. “Yeah that guy is the only reason this is still a banquet hall and not a crime scene. Though he’s had a lot to drink so make sure he’s prepared for the consequences in the morning.”
He nodded, giving his thanks to them for looking after his charge. Yuuri had gone rather quiet and for a moment Victor wondered if he was sobering up to the point he could perhaps offer a phone number.
“Um...has anyone seen my glasses?”
“Here,” Yuri grumbled as he walked forward with both Yuuri’s jacket and glasses in hand.
Victor raised an eyebrow and Yuri glared. “Well someone has to be the adult around here.”
Draping the jacket over his shoulders, Celestino nodded again to the gathered heroes. “Thanks again. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of tonight.”
They turned to go and Victor started to say something, but Yuri stopped him. “Don’t.”
Victor shot them one last look before turning towards the teen. “What are you…”
Yuri held up a crumbled piece of paper with a number hastily scrawled on it. “You owe me. Majorly.”
Victor laughed in relief as he yanked the boy into a hug.
“Ugh, get off me you loser!”
He’d give Yuuri some time to sort stuff out and then, well, he did need to learn how to dance. That was always a valid excuse, right?