A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Yuri! On Ice.

I have no beta.

ENJOY!

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The AU I wrote for two Anons on Tumblr as they requested. Gotta love me some pole dancing action!


Yuuri never thought that those lessons that Phichit had convinced him to take, would actually benefit him in some way. However often in life did one need pole-dancing skills?

Yet Phichit had insisted that it could 'be very useful later on'. And well, Yuuri supposed that this was the later on Phichit had been talking about.

Their instructor, Christophe, had sworn up and down that Yuuri had it. That he was incredibly skilled and could probably turn an entire room in his favor if he tried hard enough.

The older man had patted him on the back and welcomed him to a local bar he tended to frequent. A gay bar. A nice gay bar.

Phichit had obviously tagged along because why would he miss an opportunity to take some lovely photos of Yuuri when Yuuri wasn't expecting it?

Christophe had gotten right up on the stage and proceeded to strip down to his underwear.

Yuuri and Phichit got to witness their instructor as he turned the entire club on its head and walked away with a few hundred dollars. Women and men having gladly shoved money in his direction in order to get more of a show.

"Boys, these skills are vital in life. You never know when you'll need some extra cash."

Yuuri went home that night with a completely different outlook on many things. Though never once had he thought he'd need to do it for money.


It was stupid for him to assume, he decided. American universities weren't cheap and while he was definitely in a nice school, he'd done the calculations and realized that he would be in debt if he didn't find some way besides housekeeping to pay off his schooling.

Phichit being himself of course, sent him a smirk and mentioned pole-dancing.

And that was how Yuuri found himself employed at a strip club every other night. Not the one Chris frequented though. He didn't think he'd handle the embarrassment of that. But he did find a nice one willing to take him on several times a week.

He was strictly reminded that he was not required to have sex with anyone. That he did not have to allow anyone to touch him if he did not want to. That he should get a bodyguard if someone harassed him.

Yuuri was made very much aware that this was literally about mutual enjoyment. For him to feel good about himself, and for him to make others feels good about themselves.

This was not about his insecurities, or their possible secrets. This was about fun. Pleasure.

Yuuri met some fellow people. Some who were in a slump like him and had agreed to split any money they made with the club. People who'd been working with the business for months or years even.

None of them treated him like some kind of freak. They welcomed him with open arms. And none of the male dancers so much as blinked an eye. And the fact that would shock a lot of people no doubt, was that only two out of the ten men, were gay.

It was probably one of the most welcoming scenes he'd ever been witnessed to, and they did not hesitate to include him.

"You are very limber," Sara murmured on his first night. She and Mila had both bent down to observe his leg muscles, and watched as he stretched, his legs falling into a split easily.

"Ballet," he had told them, and watched with interest as the two cooed.

"Any other skills you hiding?" Mila asked, voice thick with a Russian accent.

"Figure skating."

More cooing. "So performing shouldn't be that difficult for you," said Sara. "Find your space, and take control, okay?"

He nodded and accepted their kind words. Thankfully he'd been allowed to choose the music he wanted, and allowed himself to fall into the routine. Just like he did at the ice rink.

It was a performance with an intended effect. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yuuri went out on his first night, and left with almost a thousand dollars and three regulars promising to visit every night he dropped by.

Did he feel guilty the two older woman and one man were literally throwing Benjamins in his direction? No.

As the owner of the club, Leo, had stated, 'it was a service they were paying for'. They got to decide what money to give unless they requested a private audience with Yuuri, then Yuuri got to control the amounts. Therefore, Yuuri felt no guilt over it.

Yuuri quickly found himself loving his new hobby, and found himself going back regularly, even when he'd earned enough money for the next two semesters.

Yuuri didn't regret any of it.


"There is a new man in the crowd and he is hot as fu-"

"Please don't say anything my poor ears aren't prepared to handle," Sara said, interrupting her lover.

Mila pouted. "But he's really hot. And he's also Russian!"

"And you're taken. The point is?"

Mila's head turned toward Yuuri, who had been watching out of the corner of his eye while applying some red lipstick. He'd really gotten into wearing it recently and refused to stop simply because some people might think it a bit odd.

"He asked who the best dancer was, and I told him it was Yuuri. So he wants to watch Yuuri and even got a seat as close to the stage as possible!"

Suddenly, both Mila and Sara were staring him down, equally evil smiles on their faces.

"What are you planning?" the twenty year old demanded, feeling like he was just signed up for something terrifying.

"You're a skater, right?"

"Yeah," he answered carefully, wondering why it was important.

Mila had her mobile out in a second and was shoving it in his face.

"This is the sexy god waiting to see you!"

Yuuri could have fainted right there. He'd competed in some national championships and even won the Junior Grand Prix for Japan a few times. He knew the big skaters. He knew them very well.

Victor Nikiforov was in America for some reason and he was sitting in a strip club, waiting to see Yuuri of all people, pole-dance?!

"Just do as you normally do," said Mila, her smirk dark and mysterious. "Make him crave you like everyone else does."

"C-crave?!"

Both woman hummed and gave a simultaneous nod.

Crave. Make Victor Nikiforov crave him.

Him!

"Do your Eros routine! That always gets you the most attention."

Well it was his best performance so far. And yes, Yuuri choreographed not only his skating but also his pole-dancing. It wasn't fun it if was just jumping and sliding. He preferred to have some kind of story to work through.

"Fine!" he agreed.

It was time to enthrall himself a World Champion figure skater.


Victor Nikiforov had expected to go and visit Chris and watch him twirl on a pole for a few minutes, but Chris told him to go elsewhere because he wanted Victor to see his 'dear student take the reigns'. Or rather, said student who did not know that Christophe knew that he was out and about, making more money than his instructor did.

Said student whose friend was unable to keep the information to himself, who was also unaware of Chris knowing.

Victor found himself in a club far nicer than what he usually found himself visiting. Cleaner and much more official.

He spoke with a young woman who was grinning widely. She told him about 'Yuuri' and invited him to a better seat so that he might witness the young man perform.

After several moments of quiet contemplation of various dancers and people, Victor jumped a bit when the lights went out.

And suddenly, a spotlight illuminated the stage, where a young man stood. His back was to the audience, and covering his body was a black bodysuit with a half skirt hanging off the right hip. Very similar to something Victor had once performed in actually.

The man's back was facing the audience as well as the pole, and when the music began - a classic guitar - he bent backwards into a bridge, hands grabbing the metal object.

He hoisted himself up then, body ascending with practiced ease. And while it was indeed erotic, Victor's mind split into two separate directions. Part of him wanted to whistle, and the other part was internally going over the various muscles that were being used at the moment and wondering over how much core strength the Asian man had.

There was a moment there, where 'Yuuri' held himself against the pole, his one leg extended upward and the other downward, as if he was doing a split on the pole itself. And only his hands were wrapped around the pole. The rest was a combination of impeccable muscle control and determination.

Following that were some twirls as the music began to peak. One leg wrapped firmly around the pole while the man leaned out into the spectators who went wild, throwing money and roses his way.

His torso and head practically fell into a woman's lap and she squealed, reaching for what Victor realized was a zipper.

The costume was pushed down a little. Just a little, because Yuuri hoisted himself up and away then, leaving the woman with a flirtatious wink for her troubles.

Somehow, whilst gyrating around the pole and his feet not touching the ground once, the man managed to get rid of his black bodysuit until it was only him in his red briefs, throwing a salacious, red-lipped smirk at the crowd and blowing a kiss for good measure.

And then, just then, his gaze met Victor's, and the small flush on his cheeks burned brighter, but he didn't lose concentration. Not when he held Victor's eyes like prisoners and performed some sort of aerial technique on the pole without looking away. Not even when his entire body turned upside down in the process.

Victor had to reach down and loosen his tie. He hadn't realized hot it had gotten in the club.

Or maybe it was just atmosphere Yuuri had managed to create.

The music was coming to a finish, and Yuuri ended his performance with a move similar to Biellmann spin where his leg wrapped up and around the pole, and he reached back to hold his ankle in place as he slowly descended in a circular motion until his right foot touched the ground and the music ended at exactly the same time.

Yuuri smiled and gave a bow, his sexy attitude melting away to reveal an adorable face flushed beyond measure.

Several patrons threw their money at him and he bowed twice as he reached for his suit and began shoving the folded bills inside the bundle he'd made.

Victor caught his eye once again and crooked a finger, watching as Yuuri shuffled over to his side. Not breaking eye contact, Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out the roll of notes he'd brought along.

He then carefully and without hesitation, reached for darling Yuuri's briefs and pulled at the fabric. Hazel eyes went wide when Victor dropped the entire roll inside, and blew a kiss to show how pleased he was.

When Yuuri was gone, Victor cursed to himself. He needed to get more money and he needed to call Chris and tell him that he didn't need to teach his student anything else.

He also had a problem that needed fixing.

And maybe Chris or Yuuri's friend would know Yuuri's social media information.


Yuuri never thought he'd see Victor Nikiforov again. In fact, he'd sort of forgotten about their encounter up until this moment.

This moment where he was standing to the man's right, wondering how he managed to enter the Grand Prix and make it to the Final, without once considering that he and Victor had actually met before. Without considering that they had met while Yuuri was pole-dancing to the very music he used in his Short Program. Without considering that Victor might even remember his face.

None of it. Judging by the smirk Victor Nikiforov was sending his way, he remembered very well, and with Yuuri coming in second place, he was now forced to be right next to the man.

How did one deal with finding out that one of your patrons who slipped you a thousand dollars for a simple dance on a pole, remembered your face and was very happy to see you again? The same patron who happened to be in the same sport as Yuuri and therefore any professionalism between them was pretty much destroyed.

"It's an honor to be sat next to Yuuri," Victor said into the microphone, eyeing Yuuri from the corner of his eye. "A man of such talents deserves to be pleased with himself. I certainly am."

That attractive ass.

Yuuri's attention was called to a reporter and he tried putting Victor's words from his mind for the time being.


Hello, Yuuri! ^-^

Who is this?

Victor Nikiforov.

Why do you know my number?

Phichit.

Of course it was Phichit. It was always Phichit.

Yuuri opened up Facebook and sent Phichit a strongly worded message about how displeased he was.

HAVE FUN WITH VIC! :D

Yuuri, are you there?

With a sigh, Yuuri decided to give Victor his attention. Phichit would get it later.

Yes. What did you need?

You me and a dip in the hotel pool preferably.

Are you hitting on me?

Obviously. And then maybe you can take me back to your room and demonstrate how limber you are again! ^-^

I don't know, are you worth it?

^-* You'll have to find out now, won't you?

Yuuri's foot tapped in agitation. Take it or not? Take what was so willingly offered, or not?

Sex with Victor Nikiforov.

Fuck it, he would take it.


A/N: DONE!

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.