Ch. 1. Gymnopédie no. 1

"Viktor, I want to learn how to ice skate!"

Viktor raised his eyes from the newspaper, looking down to the little child wearing a white tiger onesie. He had his tiny arms crossed, and his foot was tapping the floor impatiently. The dark scowl on his face, something unusual on a 6-year-old, was something that matched the boy's favourite animal perfectly.

Viktor deliberately folded the newspaper neatly and placed it on the table, taking his time to answer. The scowl on Yuri's face deepened, and Viktor had to stifle a laugh. The boy was just so fun to tease.

The older man shook his head, a sweet smile on his lips. "How many times do I need to tell you, kotyonok? You should call me papa. Say it with me, paa-"

"I want to do ice skating!"

Viktor chuckled slightly at the boy antics. He was so stubborn.

He crossed his legs and rested his head on his hand, looking down at him curiously. "Why?"

Yuri's eyes widened, and the softest of blushes coloured his pale cheeks. He looked down, hiding his face with his bangs.

"I-I just do. So sign me in already."

"Hmm," he pondered aloud, feigning ignorance, "could it be that a certain someone spent way too much time watching papa's old videos of his competitions? Did that happen, my little Yura?"

The blush on his cheeks was all the answer he needed. Yuri's eyes stayed casted down, and the boy worried his lower lip with his teeth.

"… N-no," he muttered unconvincingly.

Viktor suddenly picked him up, ignoring the kicks coming his way – they weren't that strong, after all – and placed the child on his legs.

"What are you doing!? Get me down!"

"So, what did you enjoy the most about my skating? Any preferred performances?"

Yuri's eyes brightened at that. "Oh, I liked a whole lot! There was one where you had longer hair where you look like you're flying! And your costume looked like it had wings! How do you jump so high? How does it feel? Is it easy or hard? It looks so easy, but I tried jumping this morning like you did, and I fell to the floor!"

He smiled, the eagerness of the little boy contagious. "Ah, I think I know which one you mean. This one is one of your papa's favourites too. And that jump is actually really difficult! It's called a quadruple Salchow, and it took me years to learn how to do it properly."

"Really?" He frowned.

He could see the boy deflating on his knees. Not liking to see him like this, he picked him up from his armpits, holding him in mid-air. He ignored his protests and turned him around so both were facing forward.

"Let's see… we start with a three turn, then we swing our free foot forward and… HOP!" He flung Yuri spinning in the air, the sudden movement making the child squeal, then caught him again when he fell, holding him near his chest. "Huh, a double Salchow. That was pretty nice for being your first time. Now tell me, kotyonok, how did it feel?"

Viktor had never seen Yuri's eyes shine so bright in all the time he'd had him. A wide smile made way to his face, a rare gesture in the child, and he could feel him vibrating from where he was holding him. It was the happiest he'd seen the boy since he picked him up from the orphanage.

"It was amazing! I want to do it again!"

"How about you learn to do it on your own, then? You'll have to learn to stand on ice skates first, though."

"Yes!" he threw himself to the floor, landing softly on his paw-like slippers and ran to the door. Before leaving the room, though, he turned around and pointed at him, trying to seem impressive. With the tiger onesie, he just looked adorable. "You'll see, Viktor, I'll be the best ice skater in the world! I'll even surpass you!"

The child left running to the TV room, Viktor was sure of it. Before he could ever reach the room, he called, "ah, but I thought we both agreed you would call me papa!"

The loud bang of the door closing was his only answer, and Viktor shook his head, chuckling. The kid had too much stamina for his age. He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"… I'll guess I'll better start looking, then."

It had been five months since Yuri and him had moved from Russia to Japan. It had been a spur of the moment decision; a week after he'd gotten Yuri, he'd booked two plain tickets and packed two suitcases for them. He had never minded to be the press focus since he had started, but he was getting tired of journalists following them everywhere, trying to get a scoop of his sudden decision to adopt the child. It got to the point where people started following them everywhere, and taking a vacation sounded nice back then. Maybe he'd have some bonding time with his son in the meantime.

But then Japan captured his heart. There was something about that place… something that asked him to slow down and enjoy the ride while it lasted. He'd never seen such beautiful places, and he'd travelled an awful lot when he competed worldwide. In there, no one recognised him – at least, not immediately – and it was just so refreshing, that one week turned into two, and when they knew it, Viktor was already buying a house for both of them in a little town at the south.

It was snowing when they first arrived at Hasetsu. It reminded him a lot of where he grew up, but at the same time, it felt completely different. It was a little town by the sea, and the sight of the soft snowflakes falling to the big waves crashing into the port caught his heart and never let go.

Their house faced the sea. Viktor loved to see the waves dance with the wind and the sun, orchestrating choreographies just for him to see. It made him want to skate so badly, to put those moves into a song and let his body flow with it, but he had more important things to care about at the moment.

Yuri was surprisingly picking up English and Japanese fast. Viktor himself had a little bit of trouble understanding the official language at first, but he could defend himself pretty nicely. If they spoke slowly, that is. So, in definitive, both of them were getting used to living in Hasetsu quite fast.

Viktor scrolled down on his phone, trying to find an ice rink near them that taught children how to skate, and after struggling with three pages written in plain Japanese, he'd found it. Ice Castle Hatetsu was a local ice-skating rink, and surprisingly, one section of the webpage was written in perfect English. It was information about an initiation course, and it had the contact information of the instructor.

He read it two times, and browsed images of the rink. It looked pretty nice, considering it was just a town's facility. It was well-equipped, from what he could see, and of the standard measures. He could picture himself skating in there, if he was being honest, and that seemed good enough for him.

He wrote down the address, and checked out the opening hours. In the webpage, it said lessons started at 5 pm… maybe they could check it out by themselves first? That way he'd be sure that Yuri truly wanted to be in there.

Making up his mind, he closed the tab and smiled to himself. He hoped his little kotyonok would like ice skating as much as he did.

Ice Castle Hatetsu looked exactly like the pictures, and Viktor was a bit impressed by that. The path was clean of the fallen leaves, and the walls were clear grey and blue. He could read the name of the building written in Japanese at the frontage with big blue letters.

It was nice.

Yuri tugged at his hand impatiently, nudging at him to go on. They climbed up the stairs hand in hand, and stopped at the front door. It was a bit early, so he wasn't sure if it was open, but when he pushed the door, it opened swiftly.

"Well, might as well go in."

They stepped into the lounge. The air was chilly, just perfect for ice skating. There were several rows of benches, two doors leading to the bathroom, and three vending machines, but nobody was in there. How strange.

Viktor could hear faint music coming from the closed glass doors. Grinning teasingly at the boy, he placed a finger to his lips, asking him to be quiet and opened the door. The music got louder instantly, and the Russian man felt compelled to follow it.

When he neared the ice rink, he could hear the unmistakeable slashes of ice skates gliding on ice. The sound was clear-cut, precise and utterly beautiful, and he wondered who had such great skills to give birth to a sound like that. Opening the last doors between the pair of them and the ice rink, Viktor's eyes immediately landed on the ice, or more specifically, the figure dancing on it.

In all the languages he knew, he didn't know a world good enough to describe the skater on the rink.

Every swing of his arms, every movement of his legs screamed elegance to his face. His moves weren't nor masculine nor feminine either, just the perfect amount of both to captivate men and women alike. Instead of him following the music, the soft melody of the violin seemed to flow with him, as if the only reason of that music existing was because he was dancing.

The skill that accompanied the step sequence was competition-worthy, but he couldn't recall seeing his face before on the ice rink, or at all. He would have noticed otherwise.

Then his arms stopped flowing, adopting a posture he knew too well. Starting with a forward outside three turn, he stopped momentarily with his free foot extended behind, then swung it forward and around as he jumped.

His eyes widened at the beautiful Salchow being performed in front of him, his mind subconsciously counting the turns. When the ice skater landed backwards on the ice, his posture confident and flowing like his skates did in the ice, he released the air he didn't know he'd been holding. Then, he felt a tugging on the sleeve of his tracksuit.

"Viktor…" Yuri said beside him, a bit breathless, "that was a quadruple Salchow, wasn't it?"

He gulped and nodded, his eyes never leaving the ice rink. He could feel the music reaching to its end, and he didn't want to skip any second of his performance. The man began twirling on his axis, starting with a camel spin, then kneeling to regain inertia and standing up again. He stopped at the same time the music did, one hand extended to the air and the other to the side. His eyes were closed.

The silence was deafening on the ice rink, the only sounds that could be heard were the soft pants of the skater in the middle of it. Viktor couldn't move. Hundreds of emotions clashed inside him after that performance, his mind still trying to get around what he'd just seen. He had never felt like this after seeing someone skate, like the skater had grabbed him by his hand and invited him to skate along. The story he told with his body was emotional, intense, and it had left him breathless.

He slowly raised his hands and began clapping, drawing the man's attention to him. When those dark orbs landed on him, he couldn't supress the shiver that ran from head to toe.

His eyes widened, suddenly realising he'd had spectators. "Oh, crap, what time is it? Is it time for class already?"

Viktor shook his head. The man had spoken in a rushed Japanese, but he'd managed to understand what he'd said.

"Don't worry," he said in English, "we've just come early."

"Oh."

He glided closer to them, and reached for the towel hanging on the board, next to a light jacket. He dried the tiny pearls of sweat of his forehead, shooting them a tentative smile.

"It's a bit embarrassing you saw that…" He rubbed his neck, clearly self-conscious. "I like to skate before the children come, I didn't expect anyone coming here early."

"Why would you be embarrassed? That performance was perfect. Competition worthy, I must say."

He looked to the side, a soft blush tinting his cheeks. How cute. "Thank you, but I'm not that good."

Viktor raised an eyebrow daringly, and looked down at the child who was still watching the skater with wonder and admiration.

"Yura, tell him." He nudged him to answer, but the boy retreated to his grumpy face and shrugged, trying to make it seem like he wasn't impressed at all.

"I-It was fine, I guess. You know more about than me, Viktor."

He heard a soft gasp coming from the other man and he looked up curiously. He muttered his name, and quickly reached for his jacket. Taking out a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, he put them on, and his eyes widened even more in shock and recognition.

"Viktor Nikiforov… you're Viktor Nikiforov… the five times winner of the Grand Prix Final…"

"That's me." He couldn't resist to wink at him.

His cheeks turned as read as cherries before he turned around swiftly (which was impressive, considering he was still on his skates), and began blabbering in Japanese, fast enough so he didn't understand it. He didn't really mind, though; he'd been in similar situations multiple of times, but that was by far the most amusing one.

While he let the skater sort out his embarrassment, he took the chance to watch him closely. Under those baggy pants and shirt, he could see the outline of toned muscles, giving him an athletic appearance, but at the same time it was lithe like an artist.

The man smacked his cheeks twice – was this a thing in Japan? – and turned around, wincing.

"Okay… you're Viktor Nikiforov, and you're here. What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he answered simply.

"In Hasetsu?"

"Mm-hmm." He nodded

The man groaned. "God, this is mortifying. You're here and you saw me skate. How embarrassing?"

"Why? I liked it."

He perked up at that. "R-really?"

"Viktor," Yuri half whined, half growled beside him, "stop chatting. I want to skate."

"Oh!" The Japanese's eyes widened. "You came to sign him up? Right. I'll pick up my things and I'll take care of it. Just…"

He waved before rushing to the side door. However, he didn't expect the change between the slippery ice and the rubber and stumbled, nearly hitting the floor. He gripped the board with dear life, his knuckles getting white at the strength. Viktor stepped forward to help him, but he lifted his hand to stop him, not looking at him.

"I-I'm okay! It just surprised me."

He managed to stand up fully without help, but he was still avoiding his gaze. Viktor couldn't supress an amused smile. How cute.

He sat down on a bench and put on the protections for the blades. Then, after standing up, he nodded to the exit and they followed him to the lounge again. He headed directly to the front desk and picked up a pen and paper.

"Let's see… what's your name?"

"Yuri Plisetsky," he answered dully, his eyes still trained on the glass doors. The dark-haired man looked up at them.

"Ah… Not Nikiforov?"

"Nope. My kotyonok likes his surname better." He pouted playfully. "He even refuses to call me papa."

Said child growled, "stop teasing me. And I'm not a kitten, I'm a tiger!"

"A tiny tiger is still a kitten."

"Um…" He called for their attention again. "Does he know how to skate or is he starting from scratch?"

"From scratch."

He wrote that down. His kanji were beautiful, but he didn't know a lot of it.

He tapped his lower lip with the pen absentmindedly. "Okay… there's an offer for beginners here in the Ice Castle. They can start the first week for free, see if they really like it and want to continue or not. Then we can do the inscription. Does that sound good?" Viktor nodded. "Okay, I think that's all." He looked down at the child beside Viktor. "I will be your teacher today, Yuri, I hope you have a good time with us."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Okay! You can wait for a bit for the other students to come, or I could show you around in the meantime?"

"Perfect!" Viktor exclaimed, "But first, what's your name, Mr teacher?"

Viktor had never seen someone who blushed so many times in so little time, and neither he'd bumped into someone who had the most adorable doe eyes. The glasses slipped a bit, and he readjusted them, then winced.

"Ahh… I didn't introduce myself, did I?" He raised his hand for a handshake. "Katsuki Yuuri. I'm one of the ice skating instructors here."

He accepted the handshake. Despite the chilly atmosphere, his hand was warm. "Nice to meet you, Yuuri. I'm Viktor Nikiforov."

"I-I already knew that." He grimaced

"Just making sure." He winked at him again, because why not?

Beside him, Yuri stomped on the floor, already fed up with them. "Whatever. Can we go already? I wanna see the ice rink."

Yuuri's face softened at the child's demand and dropped his hand. Picking up his jacket, he headed to the glass doors, asking them to follow. Yuri was immediately by his side, almost running to the ice once they got to the ice rink again. Yuuri chuckled and he kept on showing them around, telling short anecdotes here and there.

Katsuki Yuuri, Viktor decided, was a mystery. He was painfully shy on the ground, but in the ice, he was confident yet delicate, courageous yet fragile. He had an amazing skill, and he couldn't get his head around why he hadn't heard of him before. Surely he'd competed sometime in his life, hadn't he? Then why?

Luckily for the both of them, Viktor had always loved a good mystery. He loved cracking them, and he wasn't satisfied until he knew every tiny detail there was. Yes, Katsuki Yuuri was a mystery, and he was going to have fun.

So yeah, I fell into another fandom. FFS. So I was just gushing about Child!Yuri AU and then I blinked and I had like 500 words of a brand new fic. Then I showed my friend and she begged me to write it. Then I talked to a friend of mine who used to teach kiddos how to skate, and it was even worse, because I kept getting all those ideas and ugh.

Oh, and kotyonok means kitten in Russian, if you were wondering.