"Ah one ah two ah three ah four ah FIVE, straighten that supporting leg, six, seven, eight!"

Yuuri held the ending pose for a beat before his legs gave out and he fell into a heap on the floor. He'd been rehearsing the same variation for over an hour, the same jumps, turns and extensions more than burned into his mind and muscle memory. But there was something missing, it just wasn't right.

It still doesn't feel right.

He went through the choreography in his head, feeling the sweat stream down his back and soak deeper into the thin material of his tank top.

The quadruple pirouette into the double tour combination was still giving him some trouble, that he knew, but it wasn't technique he was lacking. He had given up many nights and mornings to make sure his technique was basically flawless. After all, Lilia wouldn't accept anything less than perfect, and he made sure to exceed her expectations.

But because of his attention to detail and choreography, it felt… robotic. He could do the choreography with his eyes closed and hanging upside down from the catwalk of the theatre. It was just that whenever he tried to connect to it, he couldn't. He had been struggling with the emotional complexity of his performance, so much so that Lilia and Yakov banished him from rehearsal until he could show them his connection to the piece. It wasn't that he was unable to emote, in fact he was well known for his ability to perform the hell out of any piece he was given. But this new piece eluded him. No matter how hard he tried, it wasn't genuine.

So that's why he's now sitting on the floor of a dimly lit studio at 1 in the morning, staring blankly at his small, lean form in the mirror. He looks back down at the floor, hanging his head in shame.

He doesn't get to wallow for long before a voice cuts through the thick silence.

"Not bad. A little less tension could work wonders for you though. A little bit of control goes a long way, you know."

He sighs deeply, before looking up. Ah yes, Victor Nikiforov. His "performance coach".

Lilia and Yakov suggested the silver-haired dancer mentor him until he met the requirements expected of a Mariinsky principal dancer, and have the piece ready in time for their visit to the States. This terrified Yuuri.

Just imagine it: Here he was, a twenty-one year old dancer, finally dancing for his dream company, the Mariinsky. He'd given up his entire social life and worked extremely hard to get here, but from the moment he arrive, he failed to meet their expectations. It hit him hard, much harder than he expected. But he pushed through, and worked even harder.

But it wasn't enough. And he knew it.

Then one day, as he was going over the variation for what seemed like the hundredth time, he was met with applause and the smell of expensive cologne catching onto the slight breeze wafting in from the door. And here's where everything got flipped, turned upside down.

He looked up from his frenzied, focused haze only to meet eyes with his idol, inspiration and long-time dance crush.

And he wanted to scream.

Maybe faint.

Scream a little more.

But before he even got a chance to react, his idol spoke up. In a soft, accented voice he had only ever heard through interviews and various video clips on Instagram, he critiqued Yuuri's performance.

"You've got a good grasp on everything and your technique is basically flawless, but I would watch the knees on your preps and landings. Not to mention your core in you turns and that tour. if you want to get around you've got to focus on keeping your body tight and aerodynamic. Oh, and you've got to relax, the tension in your hands and neck is incredibly concerning and distracting. We can't have you hurting yourself, now can we?"

THE Victor Nikiforov not only watched him dance, but he paid enough attention to give you him incredibly detailed and constructive critique.

Was he dreaming? Is this one of those weird realistic dreams? He don't know whether to laugh or cry, or pass out. He was sure of one thing though. He was very, very confused.

Why was Victor here?

The silver-haired man took notice of the confused expression on Yuuri's face and laughed softly. And oh boy, that laugh took the breath straight out of Yuuri's lungs. He found himself extremely distracted by the way Victor's face lit up, and the melodic tone of his laugh. I mean, how could someone be so effortlessly enchanting? What human even laughs so perfectly?

By the time he realizes that Victor was talking, he missed half of his explanation. He did happen to catch on to the words "your coach". He was instantly whipped from his shojo manga thoughts and back into the real world.

"What?" He managed to sputter out.

"Yes, I am now your performance coach. Lilia and Yakov thought it would do you some good. Besides, I love myself a good project on the side." Victor winks and Yuuri swears he can hear his bones turning into mush.

So that's how he found himself here, on the floor of a studio, at the mercy of his coach, a beautiful man who has made him do the variation twelve times in a row, with only a small water break in between.

"Take a ten second breather then get ready to do it again. You've almost got it, I can feel it."

I swear to katsudon, this man is out to kill me.

Yuuri takes a deep breath before hoisting himself back to standing position. His knees are weak, and his quads feel like jelly, but there's no place he's rather be.

He has to emote "love" and all of its aspects in his performance, and it's really kicking him in the butt. He's been trying to channel the deep love he has for dance, and his family, but it's just not enough.

There's still just one aspect that he's missing- sex appeal. No matter how hard he tries he ends up looking like a baby deer caught in the headlights. Or really anything other than an adult man dancing with sex appeal. Victor, bless his heart, has been trying to create connections for Yuuri to reach his emotional goal.

But so far, none of them have worked.

He sighs, running his hand through his damp, sweaty hair, pushing it off his forehead and out of his eyes. He takes a good look at himself in the mirror before hitting his opening pose.

He can do this.

He's got a month left before the Mariinsky goes overseas to visit the American Ballet Company, and even if it kills him he's going to make sure he'll make them proud.

The music starts, and Victor swears there's something different glinting in the eyes of the younger dancer. He doesn't quite know what brought it on, but he knows that he's nearing the turning point.

Here we go.

AN: Hello! I've decided to come back after a sudden burst of inspiration! Anyways, here's the other side of the crossover, a lil Victuuri action for y'all. Please lemme know what you think, review, follow, comment! Thanks for reading! (◕ ω ◕✿)

-ABF