Never judge a book by its cover.
When he was younger, his efforts in making friends were always met with rejection—his peers thought of him as too gloomy and dull to associate with—so he settled for the next best thing. Since he was a naturally quiet child, he blended in with the shadows and disappeared, content to simply observe everyone from an outsider's point of view. He wanted to learn from the examples of others so that one day, he could become friends with someone who would appreciate him.
He was spurned to take ballet classes when he heard one of his classmates talk about Minako-sensei, a ballerina who once traveled the world to perform. He figured that he could make friends with anyone else who decided to sign up for ballet classes. Unfortunately, none of the girls were that interested in ballet because it was too vigorous for their tastes. All of the boys thought of it as too girly even though he always thought of the ballerinos as cool since they could carry a ballerina's entire body weight on their arm.
Minako-sensei took no offense when he told her of his reason for taking ballet classes. In fact, she took it as a challenge and took it upon herself to whip him in shape. He appreciated her efforts greatly since it made him even more flexible than some of the girls during gym class. As it was, his mother wasn't happy that he was one of the few students in Minako-sensei's ballet class and enlisted him to take ice skating lessons at Ice Castle on the odd days he wasn't taking ballet classes in hopes that he could make friends with the students there.
His mother's plan was a great success and he made friends with Yuko-san and Nishigori-san. They were both a few years older than him but didn't treat him as though he was a brat like their peers would treat him. When they first met, Yuko-san immediately took a shine on him and while Nishigori-san teased him incessantly, he came around once the boy realized that he wasn't once of the students who came and went. The three of them grew closer, and he bonded particularly with Yuko-san over their admiration of Victor Nikiforov.
With his ballet classes and ice skating classes, Yuko-san convinced him to try his hand at figure skating. They mimicked Victor's ice skating and choreographed some programs for them to try their hand at. Minako-sensei was very supportive and intensified their classes in hopes that he would make it big in the figure skating world. He found it overwhelming at times, especially when Yuko-san went on a passionate spiel of how amazing it would be if he became a top figure skater and competed alongside Victor. Minako-sensei and Nishigori's parents understood his anxiety and were gracious enough to let him into their ballet studio and skating rink respectively. Practicing always soothed his nerves and helped him in the long run and they didn't mind since he was one of their most dedicated and loyal students.
He was still atrocious when it came to socializing with his peers. The few that he ever talked to voiced such and given how nosy Minako-sensei could be, she took it upon herself to get him out there. People still thought of him as dark and gloomy and tried to steer clear of him when they could though. Somehow or another, his decision to become an observer of human interactions spurned his newfound interest in human psychology and the like. And so, he found himself devouring books on psychology, enlisting Minako-sensei to help him better understand—under the clever reasoning that he could better convey his emotions in ballet with greater understanding—and she was roped and got it into her head that he could do better and respond accordingly based on the expressions and body language of the audience.
He couldn't afford to get an experienced coach so Minako-sensei, who developed a newfound love for figure skating—after watching Victor Nikiforov skating, that is—took on the position as his coach when he competed in the junior competitions. It was incredibly nerve-wracking but he somehow managed to make it through. He made a surprisingly impressionable senior debut and after a few more years participating in competitions, he graduated from high school and offered a scholarship from a Detroit college.
His college years in Detroit were spent pursing figure skating and double-majoring for a Bachelor's degree in psychology and nutrition. No one was surprised when they learned of his Bachelor's degree in psychology but it was uncharacteristic of him to pursue anything else. He chose to double-major in nutrition as well so as to apply what he learned to himself; partly in hopes that it would improve his performance on ice and partly to help him not gain as much weight as easily as he did.
After much pestering from the combined forces of Minako-sensei and Yuuko, he took up interpretive and ballroom dancing for the sake of future public appearances at banquets, and break-dancing, salsa, and pole dancing to help with his physiology and choreography. And he couldn't deny that all of those classes helped him immensely when he was figure skating. He was certified as a top figure skater by the Japanese Skating Federation after he skated a short program showcasing moves that were loosely inspired by salsa dancing and ballroom dancing. He wasn't ready to show any moves that were inspired by break dancing and he would sooner die than use anything even the slightest bit inspired by pole-dancing—it just wasn't him, and it didn't even fit his image.
He hated knowing the general train of thought based on their facial expressions and body language. While the judges were greatly experienced with their straight faces and thus giving no hint to what they scored the skaters, Yuuri could read them like a book. It didn't help that he always struggled over dealing with his general anxiety. Just because he knew how to handle it didn't exactly mean that he could follow through using that knowledge. Worst of all, his anxiety attacks were unpredictable like it was expected to be, but always varied drastically one episode after another. In most of his anxiety attacks, he would be hit with a sudden wave of impending doom as he broke out in cold sweat and fatigue seeping into his very bones, his stomach churning horribly, and trembles racking his entire body as he came to the realization that he spent the prime of his life on something he couldn't even succeed at. Other episodes would leave him struggling to breathe even as he subconsciously began to hyperventilate and his brain turned into mush, his fingers shook uncontrollably, his throat closed up, his stomach jumping for the chance to spew out vomit, and his heart painfully pounding within his ribcage; his thoughts jumped from how he wasted his prime on a useless sport that wouldn't help him once he retired from competitive skating to how he should just do everyone a favor and kill himself since he would undoubtedly shame Japan with his atrocious skating.
It was his first time getting into the Grand Prix Final and it filled him with joy that he finally got to skate on the same rink as Victor would. He was standing on the same stage as other top skaters and their very presence drove his demons off. He was standing toe-to-toe with world-class skaters and now, he would be considered world-class as well. It comforted him that he hadn't wasted a good chunk of his life futilely chasing after a dream that would never be. Minako-sensei and Yuko-san ruthlessly pounded it into his head day in and day out when he still lived in Hasetsu, but after five years of living in Detroit, his confidence in himself slowly waned. During his darkest hours, he thought of quitting competitive skating. It was so exhausting having to deal with his anxiety and the anxiety attacks that came with it. While he had dealt with anxiety since before he hit puberty, his anxiety attacks only came after he began to participate in competitions.
Seeing his name on the screen with other major skaters made all the tension within him relax. He earned his spot in the Grand Prix Final along with Victor Nikiforov—the thought that he would finally be able to compete alongside Victor, even though the man didn't even know him, drove off his demons like no other. He felt optimistic about how his performance would go even though he would have to skate first since all the skaters skated from the lowest score to the highest. It didn't bother him that he was the lowest scored skater because it was to be expected; it was his first Grand Prix Final and he took pride in it despite some of his competitors being younger than him. He knew better than anyone that he wasn't talented, and it was only through hard work that he actually made it where he was now. The talented was indisputably Victor Nikiforov while everyone else, Christophe Giacometti, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Cao Bin, and Michele Cirspino were a varying mixture of talent and hard work.
Yet, his demons came back to him with a vengeance and at the worst possible time. His mother decided that the most opportune time to let him know that Vic-chan, the family dog, had passed away, was two days before the Grand Prix Finals would take place. While he appreciated that his mother wanted to let him know as soon as possible since he was the most attached to Vic-chan, he wished that she considered the time and place. The combination of his insufferable habit of stress eating before major competitions and Vic-chan's death lingering on his mind made for a terrible state. As though waiting for him to fall from his high, he suffered through his usual anxiety attack two days before the Grand Prix Final and another two, harsher episodes hit him in the evening and interrupted his much-needed rest before the competition.
He knew that his performance heavily relied on his mental state and he was far from in the best condition in that respect. Coach Celestino took a single look at him during breakfast and from what he could read off him in that moment, his coach didn't believe for a second he would win. It wasn't very comforting or helpful for the matter, that his own coach couldn't even see a chance of him winning bronze. Not even he thought he would do well either and yet, he desperately yearned for the gold medal.
After he over-rotated on his Triple Axel and crashed to the ice during the second half and saw the unimpressed looks that the judges practically radiated, he floundered his way through the remainder and continued to fall with his jumps. As the music came to an end and he ended his free skate, he felt his heart drop at one of the announcer's sharp criticism—he really did have no excuse when he wasn't injured but was in top physical condition. He couldn't help but wish that the floor would cave in and swallow him whole as he silently walked to the kiss and cry.
Celestino tried to smile reassuringly and words of comfort flew from his lips. Yuuri spotted the strained edge to Celestino's smile and the line of disappointment in the slump of his coach's shoulders—he was a genuinely nice man but he was disappointed in Yuuri for complete and utter failure since he would reflect badly on him and his career as Yuuri's coach rather than because he sincerely thought Yuuri could do better.
Yuuri appreciated Celestino though and saw the sincerity in his body language when his coach forced him to attend the banquet of the Osaka Four Continents Figure Skating. It wasn't any different from his previous banquets. As usual, he had a table to himself and would normally savor a glass or two of champagne but he felt like he deserved to drown himself in the alcohol.
Victor felt his eye nearly twitch in annoyance several times as he continued to smile and wave charmingly at some of the guests of the banquet. He reached for his second glass of champagne and let his eyes wander throughout the banquet hall until they settled on the lonesome figure near the wall. He struggled to attach a name to the face but remembered him as the Japanese who finished dead last in the Grand Prix Finale. He felt a shred of pity for the man and was about to approach him to offer him some companionship and hopefully get a break from the guests.
Chris got to the Japanese man first and gave him a charming yet sultry smile. "I'm here to offer you some company. You shouldn't be sulking away in the corner when the night is still young."
The young man swayed slightly and Victor noticed the sixteen empty glasses of champagne. Respect for the Japanese was born as he could only handle roughly six glasses of champagne, give or take, before blacking out. His fellow competitor should have been born Russian given his solid alcohol tolerance and Victor's lips twitched at the irony; a Russian with a pitiful alcohol tolerance by his nation's standards and a Japanese with a rock-hard alcohol tolerance despite the fact that the majority of his people turned bright red after three drinks. The young man turned to face Chris and Victor smiled at the sight of his slightly pink cheeks and bright eyes— he was drunk. "Hallo! My name is Katsuki Yuuri. You're Chris, right?"
"And you're Yuuri—Yuuri-kun, am I right?" Chris inquired, shamelessly taking advantage of Yuuri's drunken condition to attach a suffix to his given name.
Yuuri seemed to take it in stride and instead looked at Chris with star-struck eyes that seemed to take its receptor by surprise. Such eyes were normally reserved for Victor since Chris was known for his eros. "How did you know my name?" he asked in awe. His attention was drawn away from Chris momentarily as his head turned to roam over the banquet hall before returning on him. "Why is there no dancing? This is a banquet, right?"
Victor could practically feel the mischief radiating from Chris. "It is," he agreed and winked. "You should fix that, Yuuri-kun. Everyone seems so bored."
Yuuri looked to be in complete agreement with Chris. He gave him an innocent smile with wide, sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed red from alcohol. Chris looked taken aback by how bright Yuuri appeared and his eyes raked over Yuuri from head to toe—not in an appreciating manner but more considering, seeing his fellow skater in a completely different light. Chris seemed to have found something he liked about Yuuri and his smile went from sultry to genuine.
Despite being completely drunk, Yuuri surprisingly picked up on that. "Oh, you're smiling for real now. That's great. I think your eros comes out better when you smile for real. Gap moe! That difference in behavior and expression and how your body says eros but your expressions say agape!"
Victor's attention was completely drawn to Chris and Yuuri's conversation entirely now. What surprisingly insightful words and frightening observation. Victor drained the last of his glass and set it down, intent on joining the two. As he set his glass down, he saw Yuuri drunkenly stagger to the center of the banquet hall. Chris joined Victor and smiled with a wicked edge of mischief and anticipation. His phone was out and on the camera app, ready to take photos. Victor immediately took out his own phone to take pictures of whatever would come out of this.
Yuuri didn't fail to surprise when he discarded his suit jacket and loosened his tie. With a sway that could be seen as drunken or seductive, approached Yuri as though he was a man on a mission. Yuri noticed Yuuri's approach and scowled unattractively, baring his teeth like the tiger he so adored.
"What are you here for, failure? Shouldn't you back home in Japan after your miserable defeat?" he asked scathingly.
It was barely noticeable but Yuuri flinched at Yuri's harsh words and hurt flashed in his chocolate brown eyes. His bright eyes dimmed a bit and Victor frowned at that. A glance at Chris showed that the man was equally displeased, having found an odd friendship with the "victim" in question.
Yuuri seemingly shook off the Yuri's words but there was a slump in his shoulders. He smiled though and boldly aimed a finger at him. "Let's have a dance battle!" There was a steeliness underlying his deceptively cheerful tone and Victor wondered if Yuuri was as drunk as he thought he was.
Yuri obviously thought not and vocalized such thoughts. "Huh? Are you out of your mind? Why should I have a dance battle with you?"
There was a sharp edge to Yuuri's smile that made it look almost predatory. It contrasted greatly from his previously cheerful and happy-go-lucky demeanor. "Oh, how unfortunate. I was really looking forward to having a dance battle. I wanted to know if you're as prodigious off ice as you are on the rink, but I guess not. I'll ask someone better than."
Yuuri turned and his eyes looked with Chris's, seemingly ignoring Victor completely. He was about to walk off when Yuri let out a rather animalistic cry of anger. "You're on! When I win this stupid dance battle, you'll be crying your eyes out again!"
Instead of being affected by Yuri's scathing words, he nodded in agreement and smiled brightly. Victor was of the belief that it was intentional instead of done on a drunken impulse because it set Yuri off even more. "Eh? I don't like crying! It makes my eyes puffy and my throat scratchy!"
Yuri looked like he wanted nothing more but to kick Yuuri in the side but thought better of it. He joined Yuuri on the dance battle and called out to the D.J. "Hey! Put on some music! We're having a dance battle."
The D.J. obliged and after a few moments of waiting, the speakers roared with English rap music. Yuuri immediately broke out in free-style dancing with a merry smile and not one to be outdone in any way or form, followed in his example. While Yuri was quite good at free-style dancing, he looked as though he was prancing around and doing poor imitations of dance moves in comparison to Yuuri. He was drunk but still held on to his balance and made Victor believe he had some experience in ballet or something. Some of his moves were entirely original and others, Victor realized were from salsa dancing and break-dancing.
His eyes focused on Yuuri's flat stomach appreciatively when he used a single hand to lift to entire body in the air while Yuri leaped into the air in the same moment with a scowl. Yuuri barreled forward in a smooth, well-practiced motion and his dress shirt slipped down from his sudden movements, exposing more of his pale skin. He was lean with muscle that came from ballet and other disciplines, Victor noted. The shutter sound could be heard faintly as Chris took pictures of the dance battle.
As the music seemed to be coming to an end, Victor decided it would be an opportune time to step in before Yuri's temper grew any more explosive and got the better of him. "This was rather entertaining, but I think we all know who the winner of the dance battle is," he said with clapping hands while Yuri scowled darkly and clicked his tongue. "Katsuki Yuuri!"
Yuuri smiled brightly and with a spring in his step, he all but bounced towards Victor. "Let's have a dance battle!" A laugh bubbled from his throat without warning and he nodded his head before it fully processed in his mind. Still, he joined Yuuri and walked to the center of the banquet hall and threw out seemingly random dance moves. Yuuri, on the other hand, clapped his hands, as though he was about to do some salsa dancing.
As Yuuri danced with a concentrated expression, Victor teasingly danced along with Yuuri instead of against. Yuuri let out a bubbly laugh and catching on to Victor's idea, followed in his example. As they slid across the banquet hall and danced in synchronization, Yuuri's arm slipped around Victor's waist and Victor suddenly found himself getting dipped. Yuuri had a bright smile and his face was flushed pink and sweaty.
Yuuri raised Victor back to his feet and was accosted by Chris, who had an opened bottle of champagne in his hand. "Yuuri-kun! You must be thirsty after handing Yuri's ass to him and dancing with Victor. Have some more champagne."
The bottle of champagne was practically shoved in Yuuri's hand but he smiled indulgently and poured the champagne into his mouth by waterfall. He staggered much more noticeably and continued to dance although it was done much more drunkenly. Yuuri continued to smile even though his cheeks must be hurting by now and laughed as though he was having the time of his life instead of laughing hysterically like many drunks do.
Yuuri suddenly stopped in his dancing and turned his head to the right. Victor followed Yuuri's line of vision and took a doubletake at the pole impaling the ceiling and floor. Yuuri ran to the pole and Chris wasn't too far behind him. Chris, he knew could pole dance but could Yuuri? How could they even pole dance when they were both wearing suits?
As though Yuuri and Chris could hear his thoughts, Chris stripped and was left in the speedo he was in at the pool and his necktie still tied around his neck. Yuuri was still very much drunk and although he managed to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, he fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt and only managed to undo a few of them before he just gave up. Yuuri was left in his dress shirt with his tie still around his neck and in briefs. Chris got to the pole first and immediately did a Screw Grip Hand Spring, earning appreciative cheers from the crowd that formed around the two. He swung his body around the pole provocatively and grabbed a bottle of champagne from a random person. As he swung his body for another move, the bottle of champagne exploded with a stream of foam when Chris did the Spatchcock.
Chris surrendered the pole to Yuuri once he got his share. With a raunchy smile, Yuuri went for the Superman and some guys winced, recognizing the move. Victor wondered how long Yuuri must have been pole dancing for his inner thighs to be able to handle the grafting of the pole. He swung around the pole a few more times and made sultry expressions that looked like they would belong on Chris's face, and appeared all the lewder from him when he was normally so well-mannered and innocent—he went from agape to eros and both suited him perfectly.
Chris looked entranced by Yuuri's performance and joined him on the pole once more. He climbed the pole until he was over Yuuri and performed the Frog while Yuuri did the Layback, carrying his entire body weight and some of Chris's with his arms. Victor was impressed at that and smiled at the innocent little blush that painted Yuuri's cheeks. They shifted positions again and in doing so, Chris took the opportunity to unbutton the rest of Yuuri's dress shirt but kept the necktie.
Yuuri gripped the pole with his right handle while his right ankle curled around the pole. Chris hanged with his left hand and left thigh in a mimicry of the dip Victor was treated to. With fluid motions, Chris did the Jade Split and Yuuri grabbed the champagne bottle Chris set on a nearby table with his feet. Yuuri gripped onto the pole with his left hand and rested his right foot on the back of Chris's left knee while his right leg with slightly lifted in the air. Yuuri poured the remaining champagne to the floor and laughed loudly.
Chris and Yuuri returned to the floor and gathered their discarded clothes. Chris buttoned part of his dress shirt back on but left his pants folded over his arm as though he was a butler from those Japanese cafes. Yuuri seemed to struggle with getting his clothes back on and somehow got his tie to tighten around his head in the middle of taking it off. The knot was too tight for him to loosen and he was too drunk to utilize any nimble fingers. His dress shirt was back on but only the top button was buttoned.
Yuuri absentmindedly staggered around the banquet hall and drained another glass of champagne—Victor noted that was his around his eighth or ninth glass and hoped the man didn't die of alcohol poisoning or something along those lines—and approached Victor. He stiffened in surprise when Yuuri wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face into Victor's chest. Victor felt all of the air leave him when Yuuri began to shamelessly grind on him. Next to him, Yuri looked completely enraged and his ruffled appearance from the dance battle made him look like he was the first of Yuuri's "victims" while Victor was the new "second victim."
Yuuri smiled drunkenly. "Victor, my family owns a hot springs resort so come visit us!" He stopped in his grinding and looked up to Victor with bright, sparkling eyes and an equally bright smile. His cheeks were flushed red with alcohol but Victor had the sneaking suspicious they would be red even if the man wasn't drunk out of his mind. "If I win this dance battle, you'll be my coach, right?"
Victor looked at him in slight confusion. They just had a dance battle—who else was Yuuri going to dance against? And how did Yuuri get it in his head that winning the dance battles would somehow make Victor his coach? The train of thoughts the drunk made were too confusing for the sober to comprehend.
"Be my coach, Victor!" Yuuri cried out with a sloppy smile and jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Victor's neck. Victor looked at the man loosely hanging from him like a koala and felt his cheeks heat up the slightest bit at the sight of him. Yuuri looked at Victor expectantly, but not in the way other people did.
The audience and his fans wanted him to skate and for him to surprise them but no matter what he did, they wouldn't be surprised; not anymore, not when it could be attributed to his genius as a skating prodigy. The media wanted to know if he was going to continue skating or if he was finally retiring—what did he have in store, or what he planned now that he wasn't skating anymore. His competitors looked at him with respect and admiration for his prowess and spoke empty words of taking the gold medal from him—each time, Victor got his hopes up for the possibility that he could find the inspiration he was looking for but each time, he was let down.
Yuuri didn't look at him the way anyone else did. He saw Victor and saw him as someone he could learn from. Yuuri wanted to surpass Victor and what better way to surpass him than learn from the very one? Victor took a sharp intake of breath as he glanced at Yuuri in a new light.
He found his inspiration—his muse. Victor, despite his flirtatious, charming, and suave personality, didn't believe in love at first sight but Yuuri made him believe otherwise. The man was perfection in his eyes. Victor wasn't unobservant—he noticed the stretch marks that marked Yuuri's skin when he was pole dancing but that just made him more beautiful, like sin embodied.
Victor wanted to kiss Yuuri right then and there, but Yuuri fainted in his arms dead away and nearly crumpled to the ground. Victor immediately wrapped an arm around the back of Yuuri and lifted him off his feet. For starters, he would drop his muse off at his room.
"Does anyone know where Celestino is? Or where Katsuki Yuuri is staying at? I'm going to drop him off."