Chapter Text
When Victor Nikiforov first met Yuri Katsuki, the other was drunk of his (very nice) ass, challenging his young protégé to a dance off. They were at a party to celebrate the end of another successful fashion week.
Victor had debuted his new show, received dozens of compliments, only the most positive of media coverage, and yet he was not satisfied. He loved his audience, and his audience loved him: Victor Nikiforov, successful model from the age of 16, always able to come up with something completely new. Victor loved to surprise his audience. He lived for it. And this time around, though they were impressed, Victor felt he had failed to surprise them.
Not letting anyone notice his slump, Victor had dragged himself to the party. He took Yuri Plisetsky, his protégé and a promising young 15-year old model with him. It was this same Yuri Plisetsky that became the target of a certain intoxicated Japanese model, who challenged him to a dance battle. Like Victor, Yuri was not one to turn down a challenge and was dragged away to show off his moves. Victor laughed at the two models going back and forth, but soon found himself unable to look away from the black-haired beauty.
The way the man moved to the music was mesmerizing; elegant and confident. Though the movements were not choreographed, they fit to the music as if they were, and Victor could not stop looking at it. Before he knew it, he had been dragged into the dance-off as well, and they’d danced.
They’d danced for what felt like hours. They started off challenging each other, but quickly switched to something resembling a tango. Their chemistry was intoxicating, but before long, Yuri stepped away to have another sip of champagne and pull his tie a bit looser, leaving Victor out of breath and very, very intrigued.
When Victor Nikiforov first fell in love with Yuri Katsuki, the boy was upside down, hanging from a stripper pole, beckoning him with his eyes, and something in that half-lidded gaze made something in Victor snap. Yuri had done something nobody had ever managed in Victor’s 13-year career. He’d surprised him. He’d made him feel more than he knew he could feel.
At the age of 15, Victor was discovered by Yakov Feltsman. The Feltsman modelling agency was highly professional and opened a window of opportunities for him. At the age of 16 he shot his first solo editorial for Vogue. At the age of 17 Victor walked his first runway at Paris fashion week. At the age of 18 he’d become the face of a number of campaigns, brands and perfumes. At the age of 19, he was perhaps the most famous model of the past 10 years, balancing catwalks and photoshoots, multidisciplinary and always striving for more. He was well known for his sharp features and long, silver hair which amplified his androgynous look. His poses and movements strong but graceful. His audience loved him, his employers loved him, even his fellow models couldn’t help but adore him.
At the age of 20, Victor found another way to surprise everyone. After years of modelling, he’d come to love fashion on a deeper level. He’d started to not only want to wear the most gorgeous clothing, but he also wanted to design it. At the age of 21 Victor Nikiforov launched his first line of clothing. “Lilac Fairy” was a collection with perfect balance between masculine and feminine. Unable to find anyone to wear the two top pieces like he could, Victor decided to walk the runway himself. Thus was the start of a double career, designing and modelling.
Like the perfectionist he was, Victor ended up taking on other aspects of the shows and shoots as well. He had a big hand in the design of near every part of what bore his name. He thought up lighting plans, chose the music and even did some models’ makeup himself. For years Victor managed to keep this up, and kept blowing his audience’s mind.
At the age of 27, Victor debuted his new collection, “Stay with me”, at fashion week. The show was perfect, the models looked flawless, and his designs were praised by all. And yet, Victor had the idea something was missing. And just maybe, how weird it may seem, Victor had just found that something in a drunk model on a stripper pole.
When Victor Nikiforov first kissed Yuri Katsuki, the man was hanging from his neck, begging him to design something for him sometime. Never in his 27 years had Victor expected to fall in love so quickly with a man he’d never really seen before, whose name he’s just learned, who was at the moment not wearing pants but still looked amazing and beautiful all the same. Victor was struck with the need to design, to draw, to create a piece of clothing that would befit this angel.
But of course, right now, he couldn’t, so he went with the next best thing and kissed Yuri, in front of an entire crowd of people. All the bigwigs of the fashion world were at this party, but Victor didn’t care. For the first time in a long while he did something because he wanted it, and not to please anyone else. Yuri kissed him back, and the feeling that blossomed in his stomach was familiar, and yet completely unknown. Victor was awestruck, inspired, and maybe, even more than that. He was so, so in love.
When the Japanese man evaded him the next day at the airport, Victor was devastated. Everyone was bidding farewell to their friends and colleagues, preparing to catch their flight and return to their home cities. This was the last possible moment to take pictures together and exchange numbers. This was the last chance Victor had to talk to a, now sober, Yuri. Victor had never had problems approaching people, but when he started walk towards Yuri, the boy quickly turned around and went to catch his plane. Victor was left alone, confused, and honestly, he was heartbroken.
And then months later, the video appeared online. A video of one Yuri Katsuki walking an improvised catwalk and doing poses in his backyard. A women’s voice could be heard in the background, encouraging him. Yuri started off awkwardly, but quickly eased into the exercise, pulling off poses and moves with easy elegance.
To a regular person this video would not have appeared to be anything special, but not for a person who is as involved in the fashion world as Victor was. For this reason and one other, Victor could not take his eyes of it. This was not just some person modelling in their backyard. This was Yuri Katsuki modelling in his backyard. The clothes he was wearing were from Victor’s collection. The poses he was practicing were Victor’s poses. They were moves that were widely known in the fashion industry as Victor Nikiforov’s signature poses. They were all there. He recognised the Ina Bauer, the lunge, the quadruple twirl, all perfectly timed to the music. He even managed to master Victor’s personal version of the Blue Steel look. And it looked good. It looked great.
Yuri looked even better than he had at the banquet just a couple of months ago, and once again Victor found himself wondering how he had never noticed him before. For the second time in a month Victor did something because he wanted it. He packed his bags and travelled to Japan to meet his muse.
Once in Japan, Victor Nikiforov was faced with a very confused Yuri Katsuki.
“I’m sorry, but why exactly are you here?”