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-Drunk Yuri and the Dance Off-
For the fifth time in a row, Viktor Nikiforov had won the Grand Prix Final. The Russian was definitely ecstatic that he won. His excitement grew as he felt the crowd chant his name, each time getting louder and louder as the flashes of the camera went off in a frenzy. Giving them a small wave, he glided off the ice. Yakov gave him a brief but stern nod and the young, blond haired boy beside him bore his teal eyes flickered with envy and lust as the young boy eyed the gold medal in Viktor’s hand.
“Yakov, I won again, hug?” Viktor chirped as he made his way over to his coach, holding his arms out but the old man was fast for his age and dodged the Grand Prix Champion.
“You have interviews to do and the banquet is tonight. Make sure you dress properly.” He sighed.
Yakov was a great coach but once in a while Viktor would have liked a hug after a program. He could only ever smile and wave at the photographers and his fans, there was something missing and as each day passed, he yearned for something more.
Viktor wasn’t sure what it was.
Did he yearn for another victory? To hear more cheers? Or was it a sense of belonging? Or perhaps a person, someone he could share his life with?
Brushing the intrusive thoughts from his mind, he let out a small sigh and followed Yakov to the interview station. This victory would be like the last, everything was becoming routine. He knew what questions were going to be asked and he knew how to perfectly answer them. He knew what kind of smile would garner the most attention, he knew how to play the game perfectly.
But the game was getting boring and Viktor wondered how long it would be until he could no longer feel the thrill. How long would it be until he could no longer express the emotions in his routine? If things went on like this, it was only a matter of time until he could no longer choreograph a program. What would become of him then?
Viktor quite enjoyed the banquet. Like usual it was elegant, everyone often talked in hushed voices, laughing with hands covering their lips while the other daintily holding on to the stem of their glass. Waiters walked around holding quaint hors d'oeuvres that sat elegantly on polished silver trays.
“Congratulations on your victory Viktor, don’t think that you’ll win so easily next year.” Chris Giacometti winked as he sipped on his champagne.
“I wouldn’t be that arrogant Chris.” He replied as he took another look at the room, looking for Yuri Plisetsky who was running slightly late. His azure eyes paused at a suspicious figure in the corner of the room. Dressed in a dark, slightly ill fitted suit the young man stood in the corner with his back facing the crowd. With an empty glass in his hand he turned around, his dark brown eyes darting around the room with desperation before looking relieved when a waitress stopped in front of him to refill his glass only to be refilled in the next minute or so.
Viktor recognised his face – representing Japan, Katsuki Yuri.
He remembered watching him skate, his performance… well, it was lacklustre. He was a promising act but he didn’t deliver. It seemed like he was going to drink away his sorrows tonight by the looks of it, his coach was elsewhere, talking to someone he didn’t recognise.
“You’re late Yuri.”
“Tch, I couldn’t get the tie to be straight.”
“It’s still not straight you know?”
“Like I care, I don’t even want to be here.” Yuri muttered, rolling his eyes before the older Russian man sighed and quickly straightened his tie.
“You should learn, I won’t always be here to help you with small things like this you know?”
“You don’t have plans to leave right?”
“No?”
“Then it’s not a problem.”
Viktor chuckled at the young blond who went off to find food to eat, he must have been hungry. The banquet continued without much excitement, he mingled here and there, chatted to a few coaches who congratulated him and so on. Just another banquet, it was all getting so boring for the grey haired man.
10:00pm
The night had passed by quickly with the help of small hors d'oeuvres and good champagne which he sipped all night. The fizz from the champagne in his glass was slowly disappearing and he knew it was time to go. He wasn’t sure if he could keep smiling anymore, all he wanted to do was go back home to his dear dog.
“Oh watch i- wait…. You’re Yuri aren’t you?”
The two Russians turned around at the loud booming voice that echoed through the banquet room. A certain Swiss blond had his arm around a very unstable, red faced Yuri who was on his nth glass of bubbly.
Yuri muttered something, it sounded like Japanese but Chris filled up his glass and spun Yuri around, “I don’t understand what you’re saying but what was up with your performance? You got moves, so what happened out there?”
Yuri stumbled and chugged his drink before looking around the room as if he was trying to find a familiar face in the crowd of people. Everyone was watching the two unlikely pair with much curiosity, someone moved towards the door just in case they needed to call security.
“Yuri Plisetsky!” Yuri bellowed and the blond beside Viktor jumped.
“What the hell does that pig want? A fight?”
Katsuki Yuri stormed up to the young boy and grabbed his tie.
“O-Oi, are you pissed at what I said to you?” Yuri stuttered slightly, the Japanese man was rather solemn and quiet, making a scene would be out of his character.
“Chris wants me to show him my moves… Let’s dance,” He slurred and whipped his head to Chris who had taken over the music stand, “CHRIS!”
Chris grinned and the classical piece was abruptly cut short and replaced the loud booms of bass and the classes of drums.
“What the fuck?”
“Let’s dance! If I win the dance then you have to apologise to me for the bathroom!” Katsuki Yuri cheered before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, “Why, don’t want to dance? You’re too scared?”
Upon Yuri’s beckoning, the young Russian caved and threw his tie at Viktor, “Like HELL I’m scared!”
By now everyone was watching the two Yuris dance, people had quickly moved towards the edge of the room when they released that Yuri was a friendly drunk. Viktor’s azure eyes watched the pair break out into moves that Viktor didn’t even know they knew. But oddly, he wasn’t watching his self-acclaimed protégée whose blonde hair turned gold under the light. His eyes were drawn to the young black haired man who grinned as he spun on his hands. His light skin was lightly littered in sweat that trailed down his face and disappeared in the fabric of his shirt.
Unlike this afternoon, his eyes were no longer downcast and the air around was no longer black. His eyes lit up as bright as the chandeliers in the banquet, his aura was warm and bright. Watching the man dance and smile was like drinking champagne itself.
“Don’t steal the spotlight kid! Yuri’s finally loose!” Chris exclaimed as he pushed himself in between the two.
The Russian boy grinded his teeth and snarled at the Swiss, “I was winning, don’t interrupt!”
“Yuri,” Chris smirked, “You might be able to beat the kid but you can’t beat me… you have no sex appeal.”
“Me? No sex appeal? I have TONS of sex appeal!” Yuri challenged the blond, sticking out his chest to the taller man.
“Oh yeah? It’s a battle!”
Viktor chuckled, covering his face as he watched the outrageous pair strip from their clothes and strut towards a pole. What was a pole even doing there? Who knows, perhaps it was for some of the sound equipment but Viktor didn’t want to think about that. He was only focused on Yuri who was wearing nothing but a pair of socks, his briefs and his necktie. He grabbed a glass from the awestricken waitress and shot it down before he jumped on the pole and arched his back.
Light beads of sweat dripped down his contorting limbs as the skin on his body begin to blush from the heat of dancing. Viktor’s eyes couldn’t help but stare at the muscles on his body, like other athletes he was well defined, clear muscles were further accentuated twirled around on the pole. Under the brightly lit room the grey haired man began to notice the slimness of Yuri’s neck, the tightness of his chest and the way the pole had left a light red mark on his chest- it looked like it was a love bite.
“Oi, what are you doing staring at those two weirdos. Let’s go.”
“Hm? When did you get back Yuri?”
“Ages ago, I’ve been standing here for almost 10 minutes. Let’s go, this is a waste of time.”
“Waste of time? Isn’t it fun?”
“Fun?!” The blond exclaimed, he grabbed Viktor’s hand and started to pull the man away, “Let’s go!”
“Chris I totally won that!”
“No you didn’t!”
Viktor turned around as the small boy struggled to pull him away, the two had finally put some clothes on (he thought he saw Yuri’s coach rush out to pull him from the pole and struggled to put clothes on his skater). He stared at the black haired boy who turned around and pointed at him.
He felt his heart stop as the Japanese skater stormed over and grabbed his other hand, “I wanna dance with Viktor!” he whined before muttering something inaudible in a foreign language.
“Like HELL you are!” The ‘Russian Punk’ screamed, giving Viktor another tug.
“Yes I am!” He hollered before pulling Viktor onto the impromptu dance flow. Viktor, surprised at the strength in his body jerked towards him. He could feel the Russian punk glaring holes into his back.
“A-Are you okay?” He asked the younger man who nodded.
“I wanna dance with you!” he cheered before pulling the Russian into an inauthentic, drunken tango.
Viktor laughed and grabbed his dance partner by the waist, gripping to his shirt before sliding his hands across his back, feeling every inch of the muscle underneath his smooth skin before resting his hand on the younger man’s ribs, “You might not keep up with me.”
The tips of his fingers pushed onto the younger man’s shirt, tightening his grip on him. Viktor wasn’t sure if it was just the loud music that made his skin sensitive but he felt the air around him electrify, sending chills down his spine. The older Russian skater felt Yuri stiffen for a second, his heart was racing underneath his shirt, thumping so loudly he could feel it ripple through his skin. He wasn’t sure if it was because Yuri was drunk or perhaps it was from the vigorous dancing he just did but Viktor felt heat radiated off his body. Soon, he wasn’t sure if the heat he was feeling was from Yuri or if it was emitted from his own body.
Under the watchful eyes of the banquet guest the two danced, but it was odd. He didn’t feel watched at all. The man in front of him, he had all of Viktor’s attention right now. The feeling of his hands on his body left a trail of heat as he lifted it off and started to pull people onto the dance floor. As the song was reaching its climax, Viktor pulled Yuri back, twirled him under his arm but surprisingly the boy had surprised him yet again. He quickly turned Viktor, grabbed his the small of his back and dipped him, earning a round of applause and cheers.
“Yuri! Time to dance with me!” Sala cheered much to the annoyance of Viktor and in the brief second that the Japanese man looked away, the blond Russian skater dragged him out of the dance floor. Viktor could still feel Yuri’s hands on his back as he was trying to catch his breath.
“Yuri, why are you dragging me?”
“Let’s go, Yakov wants us to rest!”
“Viktor!!”
Viktor pulled his hand away from the grasp of the young boy and turned around, only to get attacked by Yuri who pulled him into a tight hug. It seemed like he was still in the dancing mood, Viktor could feel him gyrate on him, and somehow the heat from his body had pulsed through the fabric of his pants.
He said something in Japanese but Viktor wasn’t concentrating on that, instead all he could think about was the feeling of Yuri’s hug.
It was as it the dark cloud in him was cleared. Just like the sun shining through dark gloomy rain clouds, he finally knew what he wanted. The strange doubts he had had gone away. Victory wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to hear more cheers when he performed. What he wanted was a partner, a partner who he could feel a sense of belonging with. Someone who could make him smile and laugh and ignore everyone else watching.
He wanted someone to make him feel the way that the man in front of him was making him feel.
“Be my coach Viktor!” Yuri whined in English before snuggling up to the man.
Viktor chuckled and stroked his hair, feeling each dark hair strand brush past his fingers, “Yuri… I-”
“The party is just getting started!” JJ cheered as he pulled Yuri away from the grey haired man and into a dance group that he had formed with Chris and his girlfriend.
“Tch, what an idiot.” Yuri muttered and dragged Viktor away, this time succeeding.
Viktor turned around and watched the black haired man throw his hands up in the air, the necktie around his head swinging as he jumped up and down. Until the doors closed he kept his eyes on the boy, the tightness of his hug could still be felt even after Katsuki Yuri was no longer visible.
The inspirations were coming back. The game was no longer boring.
‘I know what I need now.’ Viktor thought to himself as Yuri’s angry muttered blended in with the light music of the lift.
He didn’t need someone like Yuri.
No.
He needed Yuri.