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“Phichit, I’m starting to rethink this idea…” Yuuri said, as he stared at the wig in his hands.
“Nonsense Yuuri, we signed up three months ago, besides, we’re already here, and if you’re in full drag, you can just pretend you’re someone else. NO ONE is going to recognize you. I swear.” Phichit insisted, taking the wig out of Yuuri’s hands and helped him seat it on his head, pinning it in place to make sure it won’t go anywhere, especially with all those inversions he would be doing.
“I still don’t know how I let you talk me into this.” Yuuri said, as he worked the finishing touches of the make-up. Hedwig sure wore a whole lot of makeup, but at least Phichit had a point, absolutely no one would recognize him like this.
“All-event Gold tickets to Skate America where Viktor Nikiforov will be skating… HE’S IN OUR CITY BRO!” Phichit exclaimed, rolling the glitter onto his arms. “And you’ll be close enough to peg him in the face with a poodle plush.”
“Right… I still don’t know how you got your hands on those.” Setting back Yuuri admired himself in the mirror. He had to admit, drag looked good on him. “Alright, let’s go get this over with.”
“Yes let's. A little fun for me… and tomorrow, we get to watch Viktor and Christophe skate live. BEST SKATING SEASON EVER!” Phichit exclaimed leaping into the air.
“Well I wouldn't say best, maybe next year we'll make the cut… to skate on the same ice as Viktor…” Yuuri sighed, following Phichit out of the dressing room and into the main hall of the club.
It had all started with a Groupon for a pole dancing class. Phichit insisted it would be fun, that a little core workout would help them on the ice. It was hard to argue with such logic, and it was only a five week class so it wasn't too much of a commitment. After the second class, it became evident that they both had a natural skill on the pole. It turns out that their background in ballet and figure skating helped immensely with the spins and Yuuri had this raw power that drew everyone’s attention.
By the time the fifth class came along, they both realized that the five week course on the pole had helped them immensely on the ice. Their spins were tighter, they had more stamina, it was really working for them, so they ended up signing up for another session, and then another one after that. After those three sessions they were moved to the advanced class and learning things they never thought possible on a pole. It was then that Phichit started signing them up for amateur nights, though signing them up was more signing himself up and Yuuri agreeing to come watch. It had takes almost a year, and a pair of All-Event passes to convince Yuuri to actually give it a go.
The song and drag was Phichit's idea, they had gone to New York two years ago and saw the Neil Patrick Harris revival of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. They both fell in love with the musical, and Phichit kept pushing Yuuri to dance to Sugar Daddy while in full drag.
Yuuri couldn't really see as he waited for his turn, but he could tell by the catcalls Phichit was receiving that one, whatever it was Phichit was doing, it was working, and two,it was a full house. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his nerves as Phichit’s song moved into the bridge. It was going to be okay, he was in full drag, if by chance someone in the crowd knew him, the wouldn’t possibly be able to recognize him like this, heck even he couldn't recognize himself when he looked in the mirror.
As the song ended he took another deep breath, giving Phichit a smile as he clapped a hand on his shoulder and said “knock em dead,” with a devious smile.
The moment the first notes of the song started and Yuuri stepped onto the stage the whole room fell into a hushed silence, all eyes on him. It was a good thing Yuuri couldn't see shit without his glasses.
Viktor giggled as he allowed himself to be dragged off by Christophe. His friend had been rambling about a club they just simply had to hit up. Although Viktor wasn't the fondest of clubs, they had their appeal from time to time, and whenever Christophe got this excited about a club it could only spell trouble. And god knows Viktor simply loved trouble.
Twas the night before the short program, and Yakov would have killed him if he knew that Viktor had sneaked off with Christophe to hit the town. Luckily for him, defying Yakov and pissing the old man off until he turned red screaming was kind of one of his favorite pastimes. He had spent the past fifteen or so years getting a rise out of his Coach and he strove to push those boundaries every day.
If he was being honest with himself and Christophe, he wasn't entirely impressed when they first stepped into the club. Sure it was on the higher end in terms of strip clubs, clean, attractive, but nothing to really write home about. The girls were pretty, the few boys they had there were intriguing, and there were certainly a few people of interest. For starters, the girl on the far pole was interesting, although her form could use a little work, the petite boy on center stage was certainly eye catching. He barely looked old enough to be there, but the was he spun on that pole was breathtaking, and it made it seem as if he was weightless, ethereal really. Viktor could probably watch him spin and drop on that pole all night long. Chancing a glance over at Christophe he noticed that his friend was just as mesmerized.
When the song ended, the boy stepped off, giving the audience a playful wink, and for a second he caught Viktor's eye, an indescribable expression crossed his face before it disappeared and he was gone.
Viktor wasn't sure what to make of it, it could have been nothing, or he could have recognized him. He couldn't quite be sure, but either way it didn't matter, the boy had left and didn’t try to approach them.
When the first few notes of the next track started, his attention was instantly drawn back toward the center stage and the moment the next dancer stepped out Viktor felt his heart skip a beat. Viktor wasn't sure what it was, but something about the way she moved just intoxicated him, and when she mounted the pole, it was as if the whole world have faded and the only two people who existed were the two of them. He wondered if that was how everyone in the room felt at that point in time, because the way she moved was pure magic.
When Phichit stepped off the pole, he swept his eyes across the audience, giving his adoring fans a wink when a pair of men near the back caught his eye. He instantly recognized them. How could he not? It was Viktor Fucking Nikiforov and Christophe Fucking Giacometti. He would have recognized those two anywhere.
Looking away quickly, Phichit grabbed the rest of his tips and made his way behind the curtain. As he passed Yuuri, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, “knock em dead,” before flashing him a devious grin. Yuuri gave him a curt nod and took a deep breath.
Quickly pulling on his sweatshirt and jeans, Phichit made his way back out onto the floor and situated himself in against a wall, blending in as his eyes darted toward the two men in the back again. Pulling out his phone he got ready to document Yuuri's dance, glad that he had somehow convinced management that they should allow him to photo Yuuri's performance, something they agreed to as long as he was discreet and they had rights to all the photos.
He couldn't help the grin which spread across his face as Yuuri mounted the pole and he chanced a glance over at Viktor Nikiforov, who was simply spellbound. Then again who wouldn't be, Yuuri cast an enchantment on everyone anytime he got up onto a pole. His body just did this thing that made you want to devour every last piece of it.
From time to time Phichit would flick his eyes over to gauge Viktor's reaction to Yuuri’s dancing. He couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when Yuuri’s clothes came off and it was revealed that he was very much not a woman. To his delight, it seemed as if Viktor barely noticed, so captivated by Yuuri it was evidently that all he saw was Yuuri, and Yuuri alone. Not a man, not a woman, simply Yuuri.
As the song ended, Phichit suddenly realized that if Yuuri were to change and put on his glasses, he would instantly realize that Viktor Fucking Nikiforov had been the audience, watching him dance. Yuuri would die, and Phichit would never be able to convince him to go for an encore, especially not the encore he had in mind. Pulling himself away from the wall he shoved his phone into his pocket and quickly rushed to the back, to find Yuuri pulling all the pins or of his hair, tugging off the wig.
“You were freaking amazing!” Phichit exclaimed, taking the wig from him, smoothing out the hair before carefully putting it back into its box. He has spent a lot of money on that wig, and honestly, considering Yuuri actually performed Sugar Daddy while Viktor Fucking Nikiforov was in the audience, made it worth every penny.
“Really?” Yuuri asked as the pulled out another wipe and swiped at his face again, taking more of the make-up off his face.
“Uh the massive amount of tips tucked into your shorts should have told you that.” Phichit cried, helping Yuuri count the bills. “Damn, you beat me by fifteen dollars.”
Putting the bills down next to Yuuri, Phichit dropped down next to the bag they had brought with them. With Yuuri confident that he was amazing, Phichit decided that this was probably the best time to breech the subject of an encore. He hid the wicked grin that crossed his face as he unzipped the bag. Viktor fucking Nikiforov was in the audience. Phichit couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw someone, Yuuri, dance to his free skate song, in an outfit that eerily resembled his own?
“Hey Yuuri?” Phichit asked, looking through the duffle bag they had brought with them.
“Yes?”
“Did you bring that other costume we were considering?”
Yuuri paused what he was doing to look down at Phichit. “I'm not going out there again.”
“Oh come on.” Phichit whined, pulling out the costume, answering his own question. “I'm sure they're dying for an encore. You should appease the masses… and make another hundred dollars… c'mon it'll be the easiest two hundred some odd dollars you'll ever make. Besides, if we put on the other wig, no one would know it was you.”
Yuuri fell silent as he continued to wipe off the make-up from his face. Phichit could tell by his expression that he was debating it. “Fine.” Yuuri finally said, “you'll have to help me with the make-up again though. You're so much better at contouring than I am.”
“Bro, have I ever told you how much I love you?”
Yuuri simply smiled back at him. “You got us All-Event Gold passed for Skate America… I get to see Viktor Nikiforov skate, up close... I think we're even now.”
Viktor didn't know what to do with himself when the song ended and the most beautiful human being he had ever laid his eyes on stepped off the stage and disappeared into the back.
“Chris.” He said, his voice quivering. “I need to find her, no him, again.”
Christophe for his part merely smiled. “I would have to agree with you there my friend. That performance was really something.”
“Do you think he'll do another dance?’
Christophe shrugged. “Perhaps, but it is amateur night, so I don’t know. Depends on their line up I suppose.”
Viktor nodded, taking a seat at one of the nearby tables, waving off the girl who came by and offered him a dance. He watched with anticipation every time a new dancer came out onto center stage, but after the fourth or so he had almost given up hope.
He was about to wave off another girl who have come over when it dawned upon him that he could just ask her if she knew. “Do you know if that boy who danced to Sugar Daddy would be coming out again?”
“Oh, you're into boys…” she said with a hint of disappointment in her voice, “I'm not sure, he's not a regular… pretty sure his friend strong armed him into dancing. I could go find out for you.”
“Oh, yes please.” He replied a little too enthusiastically, which cause Christophe to chuckle and choke on his drink.
“Wow.” Was all Christophe had to say when he finally stopped coughing, Viktor raising an eyebrow at him.
A few minutes later the girl came back, sliding an arm around Viktor's neck as she deposited herself onto his lap. “I'll give you your answer if you indulge me a dance.”
“Sure, sure.” Viktor replied, impatient for the information.
Although the dance didn't really mean much to him, as he would have much rather of had that beautiful boy in Hedwig drag all over him, he had to admit she had a considerable amount of skill and he tipped her accordingly. Smiling back at him she lifted herself off of him and inclined her head toward the center stage. “He's going to be up next, and I'd have to say, it would seem as if he was a fan, Viktor Nikiforov.”
Viktor gaped at her, shocked that she had known who he was the whole time. She gave him a wink before stalking off, laughing softly to herself the whole time.
The moment the first notes of the song started Viktor understood her statement, his mouth dropping opened as the young dancer stepped out, Christophe howling with laughter beside him.
Viktor forgot how to breathe for the next three and a half minutes and by the time the dance was over he couldn't help but wonder how much of that he could actually incorporate into his own performance in three nights. It was absolutely stunning what that boy had done to his program and he wanted nothing more than the learn his name. Okay perhaps he wanted more than just his name. It was quite possible he wanted to whisk him away to Saint Petersburg so he could keep him by his side forever.
The moment Yuuri finished his second dance, Phichit met up with him in the dressing room and suggested they go grab something to eat.
Glad that Phichit was finally allowing him to leave the club, Yuuri allowed Phichit to drag him out the backdoor and into the brisk Detroit night. He had to admit though, it was kind of fun getting paid to play on the pole, not that he would volunteer to do it again, but that's not to say he wouldn't accept if Phichit offered again.
When they settled into the booth at the burger joint, Phichit showed Yuuri all the pictures he had taken and although he was mortified that Phichit was allowed to take pictures, a little part of him was super impressed with the way he looked on that pole, especially in the photos where he had been dressed like Viktor.
Two years later Beijing China
Phichit hummed softly to himself as they climbed the stairs up to the Great Wall of China. Ever since he had brought up amateur night the night before, Viktor had been pestering him non stop about it. Phichit had morals though, and he wasn't going to do anything that Yuuri would be uncomfortable with, and if Yuuri said no, then no means no.
“Please Phichit?” Viktor begged again, only to have Phichit chuckle and shake his head no.
“I already told you, I'm not the one you should be begging. The second he says yes, I'll show you.”
Yuuri pretended he had no idea what was going on between those two as he continued his conversation with Leo and Guang-Hong, making it a point to ignore Viktor's theatrics.
“Yuuuuuri…” Viktor purred in his ear as he draped himself around him. “Pleeease tell Phichit he can show me.”
“Fine.” Yuuri drawled, tired of this game. It was just a few stupid pictures anyway, pictures that he had to admit he looked damn good in, even though the fact that he had done a pole dance in Viktor cosplay was probably the most embarrassing thing he could possibly show Viktor. Ever. “I'm still going to get back at you for even bringing it up, Phichit. You better sleep with one eye open.”
Phichit laughed, “that threat ain’t gonna work anymore, Yuuri. We don't live together anymore, remember?”
“Shit.” Yuuri cursed as he watched Phichit pull out his phone with a grin which could only mean one thing. Phichit knew something nobody else present knew.
Viktor beamed with excitement as Phichit handed him the phone, his eyes opening wide as he swiped through the first few pictures. “Phichit…” he said, his voice trembling as he looked up from the phone and over at the Thai skater who was grinning back at him, a knowing gleam in his eye.
“Viktor.” Phichit replied, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice.
Viktor simply shook his head and continued to swipe at the pictures. When he reached the ones of the second dance he nearly dropped the phone. “Phichit!” He screamed this time, his hands shaking.
Phichit nodded at him, plucking the phone from his hands. Yuuri glanced between the two of them, confusion written all over his face, as this was not exactly the reaction he was expecting from Viktor. He had expected Viktor the cry out his name when he saw those pictures, not Phichit's. Not that he was jealous or anything.
The grin on Phichit's face grew even wider as he turned his attention toward Yuuri, his phone poised and ready to go as he anticipated what Viktor was going to say next.
“Phichit!” Viktor cried again in disbelief, trying to formulate a coherent thought. “Did you know I was there that night!?”
A flurry of shutter noises went off as Yuuri's face contorted into a series of expressions ranging from confusion to embarrassment to rage and then settling on mortification. Phichit took a step back, just out of reach of Yuuri as he nodded, flinging himself behind Leo and Guang-Hong as Viktor let out a squeal of delight and launched himself at Yuuri, knocking them both to the ground.
“Yuuri! Oh Yuuri! I think I fell in love with you that night, though I had no idea it was you at the time… you simply must perform that dance for me again, you still have the costume no?”
Yuuri stared up at Viktor who was hovering over him, his rage and mortification melting away into sly smile as a darkness crossed his eyes. “Yes Viktor, I still have it. God knows how many hours I put into making it… you better prepare yourself though, Viktor Fucking Nikiforov, because if I put that thing on, I cannot guarantee that you'll be able to walk the next day.”