A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Yuri! on Ice.

I have no beta.



-So randomsplashes on Tumblr got an Ask from an Anonymous person, suggesting this type of AU. I branched it out.

-This is a five-shot. The rest of the story is finished already and will be posted within the week. It's on AO3 already.

-I actually took violin lessons for many years(as well as piano). I don't play both perfectly, but I like to think I'm decent. I'm also better at memorization than those I took classes with. My fingering is pretty good too.

-Street performers do a lot of work and really have to put themselves out there. Imagine Yuuri having to do that with his personality.

-Victor's life is bittersweet. Yuuri's life is dissonant.

-Alternate Universe of course.


The first time Katsuki Yuuri played in the park outside the best skating rink in St. Petersburg, he hadn't expected much to happen. He'd been standing off to the side beside a large tree, swaying back and forth as he worked on a melody that was in his head. He had been working on it for days, but there always seemed to be something missing. Something that would make the melody complete, although he couldn't seem to find what it was. But he kept it fresh in his mind just in case the inspiration came to him at some point.

Either he needed more instruments, or he should try to just rewrite the piece. Which would take more work than necessary. It had the potential to be a great song if he could just get rid of his mental block and find out what he should do! Being on his own was much different than following a guideline given by an instructor in a class. And he wasn't in a group now. He was doing this solo and it was annoying to an extent.

As Yuuri ran through small possibilities for the branching of the melody, someone had come up behind him and cleared their throat. The harsh screech of the bow against the strings was enough to make both men wince, and the stranger apologized for startling him as Yuuri turned in a one-eighty to see what stranger had managed to sneak up behind him so well.

Said stranger was gorgeous. Probably one of the most attractive people Yuuri had ever seen in his life, which was a lot considering who his best friend was, and his childhood crush was, and who his former ballet instructor was. But this man was very different compared to those types of beauties. And it was easily noticeable in the way he walked and talked, let alone how he styled himself which was definitely more fanciful than anything Yuuri was used to.

His hair was so blond it looked silver under the slightly overcast sky, and a large uneven fringe blocked his left eye. In fact, Yuuri was certain that it was actually silver in color! But the man looked incredibly young, with an enviable complexion. His blue eyes would put the sky on a sunny day to shame, and probably embarrass it as well for even attempting to use such a color.

"I'm Victor," the man said with a thick, Russian accent, his hand extended in invitation. There was a charming smile on his face. One that spoke of ease and contentment, and an absolute sureness of himself that Yuuri might only slightly envy. "I skate at the rink across the street and I couldn't help but come over." Even his voice was like sex. How did such a person exist?

He was an athlete, which would explain his brand name tracksuit, fancy bag, and delicious body. The man looked like someone who spent a lot of time at the gym in order to attain a sort of look. And because he was into sports, he would then have to work hard in order to maintain said look. And in Yuuri's eyes, that look was doing him so many favors!

"I'm Yuuri," he answered shyly, a bit shocked that he'd managed to somehow get the god's attention. Because there was no way someone that attractive was human. He also remembered - just barely if truth be told - to shake the man's hand as was custom in western countries. He almost made an ass of himself ten seconds after meeting the living statue of perfection.

"I haven't seen you out here before," said Victor conversationally. "I come to the rink almost every day, but never have I come across any musicians. Or at least those who haven't been chased away somehow. Not many people would come around here during the winter especially, unless they are paparazzi wishing to get a look at the figure skaters inside as they train up for the upcoming competitions."

Yuuri flushed and pushed a lock of his hair behind his ear in a nervous gesture that he'd grown used to over the years. "I moved here a few months ago and I rotate parks during the week days. Things are a little tight right now so instead of lingering in different places for too long, I change locations every day. And I'm usually not out for very long because my other job is very demanding. Any donations come from kind people who won't be annoyed with seeing me every day, because the schedule always changes."

Victor was quiet for a moment and Yuuri had to withhold the urge to hide his face in his scarf. Being a street performer wasn't always easy. Sometimes he was harassed. Sometimes people were rude. And as any money from this was basically helping him stay afloat for the time being until he could get settled in better, he had to rely heavily on the generosity of random passersby. A shame in some respect, but it could be worse he realized.

It was embarrassing to need financial support, that was true. Until he could support himself or find a better job at least. Though performing in a small bar wasn't exactly cutting it, it was still much better than having nothing to do with himself. Still much better to make use of his talents then to let himself go to waste when he could contribute something with his existence.

Sometimes he wondered why he dropped ballet. He could have probably been a dancer instead of a struggling musician. He had the rhythm necessary. He had the ear for the music. He could have probably made a better living instead of being stranded in a foreign country, all alone, with nothing to show for his life. And he wouldn't have to divulge the embarrassment that had become his life to a god in human form.

"Will you be here to perform tomorrow?" Victor asked suddenly, startling Yuuri from his depressive thoughts. The man was standing casually, with his hands folded behind his back. He didn't look anything but interested in Yuuri's answer, which was so odd because looking at him, he didn't seem the type of person to be interested in Yuuri of all people. Or people like Yuuri at least.

"Um… I hadn't planned to be?" He really hadn't though. It wasn't the right day n his schedule.

"I only have my credit card on me right now, but if you come by tomorrow, I'll be able to donate something. I have a competition coming up so my coach wants me to get in as much practice as possible. If you let me relax with you for a bit before I have to dedicate my entire day to destroying my knees, I'd be very appreciative," Victor offered with an easy grin.

His smile was angelic. Beautiful, with such nice teeth. He put Yuuko's beauty to shame and it was so unfair! Yuuri could feel his mouth going dry at the sight of such a look. And the fact that it was being aimed at him did him no good.

Yuuri was flushed however. "I mean- I could just play for you. You don't need to pay me or anything." It wouldn't be too long anyway. Especially if the man had to literally go and train so much that his knees would be hurting afterward. He wouldn't want to take up too much time in the man's day.

The Russian man merely smiled and winked. "I'll see you tomorrow, Yuuri."

Yuuri did not think about how amazing the man's voice had been. He did not sink onto a nearby bench and fan himself despite the fact that it was cold out already and he could see his own breath even when breathing in. And he certainly didn't sit there and proceed to fiddle around with his violin, playing the same tune he'd been previously working on until he was playing a moderately sexual piece that suddenly came to mind because of his interaction with Mr. Sex on Legs Who Couldn't Possible Be Mortal.

Said piece would go well with a guitar and some castanets in order to amp up the feel of the sexuality. Perhaps Paso Doble worthy, or even a Flamenco should he use Flemenco oriented instruments. He would probably have to see what he could do about recording it later. For now, the name that came to mind was, On Love: Eros. And boy was Victor full of Eros in every way. Even just standing was erotic.

Not that the song was about him or anything! It was just the fact that Yuuri had been playing a melody he hadn't managed to finish and he'd gotten inspiration from the man who had come up to him. It wasn't about the man, it was just sort heavily inspired by him. Which meant that it was okay and not creepy in the least.

And the song itself wasn't even finished! It still needed work. But he'd finally built ground on where it was going, which should eventually help him.

He played a few basic notes before bridging into something more modern and relatively new. He'd always fancied Adele's music after all. Someone Like You was heartfelt and sounded lovely on the violin.

Someone paused beside the bench and bent down to place a note into the open violin case. A red haired little girl with a toothless smile. She waved twice at him before running off toward an older woman who too was smiling. The two walked away, hand in hand, swaying to the sound coming from his violin.

Sometimes he was reminded over why he officially took up music and not dance. Today would be one of those reminders. Yuuri loved music more than anything.

"Vitya! Why are you not paying attention?!"

The man winced as the voice of his old coach reached new levels of loud. And the problem was that things echoed in the rink and came back twice as loud, which meant that his ears were ringing all because of Yakov's yelling.

"I'm paying attention, Yakov. I'm just a little out of sorts today," he answered. "Lakshmi can't do the music, and there is no one available to compose in her place so things are a little frustrating at the moment. I have more on my mind than usual."

The old man didn't seem to find his plight in any way worrisome. He merely snorted and said, "Instead of having to go overboard for no necessary reason, how about you use pre-existing music like all of your fellow skaters? Then you wouldn't be wasting money and you wouldn't have to strain yourself over something as simple as choosing your music."

He gasped theatrically, offended at the mere suggestion of being like the other skaters out there. Victor was in a different class and just worked differently than they did, and he didn't want to do the obvious thing! "Yakov, I am surprised! Music can make or break the performance! Me being able to work alongside something that holds all the feelings I have, is what helps me do so well in presentation. This needs to be made specifically for the routine and nothing that already exists will do it justice! I know this deeply."

Victor was consequently sent home early due to being 'too lazy and wasting time'.

He readjusted the strap of his bag and glanced over to the sparse park. Said park where he had met a really adorable Asian man earlier that day, who played the violin really well, even when he was just playing around and not being serious. Victor had promised to pay him on the morrow in exchange for a private performance. And he was really looking forward to challenging him!

The man, Yuuri, was not there any longer, which was kind of sad once he thought about it. But Victor was certain he'd come by again. Besides, he was really cute and if Victor pulled enough strings, he'd probably be able to find him easily. All it took was one post on social media and he'd probably have everything he needed to know about Yuuri the violinist.

He was looking forward to the next morning with relish.

He was there! He was sitting on the bench and playing something much different than the angelic sound from the day before. This one had far more passion in the tune than the last one did, though it sounded familiar to the other in a sense. Possibly a different arrangement of the same melody if he guessed correctly. He wasn't that inclined to music, but he knew enough to get by. He once dated a cellist and heard a few musical terms here and there that stayed.

While his ears were pleased like his eyes were - because damn, did someone look fine in dark shades of blue - something caught his attention and he didn't really like it as much as everything else.

It was January. It took some dedication to be out in the middle of winter, playing an instrument that requires delicate handling, without any gloves on. Yuuri's hands had no protection from the elements, and while it wasn't snowing currently, it was still pretty chilly outside. Enough so that any sort of heat created steam and fog against the cool temperature.

He winced at the thought of freezing hands and dry, cracked fingers. It would hurt a lot and make it harder for the man to play, which was something he apparently did for a living. Perhaps Victor could buy him a pair of thin gloves? Could he even he play the violin with gloves on or would they get in the way? This was why he got confused over simple things.

"Hi, Yuuri!" Victor shouted, coming up behind him and smirking when the other man jumped in place, whirling around to gape at him. It was apparent that Yuuri truly got lost in his music and that it was easy to sneak up on him when in such states of concentration.

"Victor," the man greeted him with a nod, voice soft and sweet and and kinds of beautiful. "Hello."

His eyes were warm and brown despite how cold it was outside. Victor was weak for brown eyes. And the face said brown eyes were set in, was a fine piece of creation as well. Soft and adorable.

"Aren't you cold out here? Do you want to come into the rink to get warm?" Victor offered, not wanting the man to freeze to death.

Immediately, Yuuri began to stutter about how he couldn't loiter and take up unnecessary space and how he was just there to play for an hour and then he'd be on his way. He seemed to be a very fidgety individual, which was both cute and worrisome. Though not in a bad way.

Victor plopped down beside him on the bench, noting that Yuuri's shuffled to the other side, eying him shyly. It was adorable. The man himself was just a bundle of cuteness in a perfect package!

"I suppose that I'll just have to sit here with you until you have to go. Then we can both be cold together!"

"Y-you can't do that! You'll freeze!" protested Yuuri, looking altogether horrified and flattered that Victor would offer to sit with him at all.

"Dearest Yuuri, I've lived in Russia my whole life. I am immune to the temperatures here!"

"What about your training?"

"Yakov can wait. I wasn't exactly on point yesterday so he might not be too cross with me if I'm not doing as well today either."

That was a lie, but Victor would just do as he usually did. Lie or pretend that he couldn't hear the man. It usually worked. Or it got him booted from the rink for a few days. But as Europeans was coming up soon, Yakov wouldn't risk practice time for his upcoming performances. He wanted Victor to win Russia the gold again after all. And if he wanted that gold, compromising his own student was not a good plan.

"You are frustrating."

Victor's jaw dropped, though he apparently wasn't the only person who was shocked, because Yuuri's entire face went red and he began apologizing profusely.

"I swear I didn't mean it! Well- I didn't mean for it to be mean! I wasn't trying to be rude either, I was just trying to say that you were annoyingly persistent! Wait! It's actually a really good quality and it's not annoying at all! It's a good thing that you can be so persistent in getting your way! It shows dedication! Dedication is very admirable!"

Victor doubled over, charmed and amused. More so than he had been in a long time, and it felt good to laugh with everything in him. Yuuri was adorable in every sense of the word and he felt blessed just to be able to speak to the man. Speak to him as a person and not have to think about something scripted ahead of time. Because Yuuri wasn't a fan or a journalist. He was just Yuuri.

"Yuuri, you are cute. Please don't ever think otherwise," he said in between laughs, trying to bring himself down from the emotional high.

The man turned away to mumble something in what Victor recognized to be Japanese. He understood 'kawaii' but the rest was lost to him. The flush on his face pretty much told the rest easily though.

"You are cute," Victor insisted.

"You came here for music, right? Why don't I finally play you something so I'm not taking up your valuable time? I'm sure you have more important things to do with your day than to sit here with me!"

Yuuri situated his violin, chin slotting into place on the fabric covered chinrest.

Victor was merciful enough to allow the man to calm himself. But it was just so fun to fluster him! Yuuri was great!

Yuuri would admit to being a little sad when Victor had to leave for practice. And the only reason he knew that Victor had to go, was the fact that an old man stomped outside of the rink, screaming 'Victor Nikiforov' at the top of his lungs. And Victor was easily spotted. The man proceeded to threaten to bodily drag him inside if he did not get in immediately, meaning Victor had to go and their time was cut short.

"I really love your music," said Victor as he pulled out his wallet. "It's very relaxing and reminds me of days when things used to be more calm in my life. Before I was scouted and became famous. It's nice to be reminded now and then."

Victor then stood and moved on over to slip a folded note into the violin case. "I hope I can see you again some time in the near future."

Another wink was sent in Yuuri's direction before the man sauntered away, yelling back to his coach that 'some things in life were more important than training'. To which the man replied frostily, 'since when have you believed such?'. The two disappeared inside, leaving Yuuri to stare after them in bemusement.

Yuuri's gaze lowered to the purple case, where Victor had slipped the money under the small flap that held the rosin he used for his bow. It had been more pink than blue or green like he'd come to expect from people. And it was a note, not a coin like other people had been giving him, so he knew there was a bit more there than donations he usually received.

When Yuuri reached in and plucked out the bundle of notes - not a single note, Victor had left a small roll - he found himself faced with ten, crisply rolled 5,000 Ruble notes. Victor Nikiforov had given him fifty thousand Rubles all for an hour of on and off playing and talking.

Either the man was crazy, or he was planning something.

That was like ninety-six thousand Yen! That was way more than generosity. And it would probably finally get him a bed instead of a sofa!

But he felt bad. That was a lot of money. He hadn't done much beyond argue with the kind man and play a few songs that he had specifically asked Yuuri to play. He didn't deserve the equivalent of eight hundred plus dollars for only that much.

Yuuri straightened up. He'd keep what he needed - enough for an actual bed at least - and give the rest back. He didn't need that much for so little work. The man had given him his gloves and scarf even! That was already enough! So yes, Yuuri would give him back the rest of the money.

Yeah. That would do.

"What was that about?" Yakov demanded once Victor and he were safely inside the man's office.

Victor shrugged. "His music is inspiring and I wanted to meet him again."

"You have training to be doing, Vitya!"

"But I can't possibly get any better at what I'm doing already!" he whined, petulantly folding his arms. "I understand keeping myself sharp in front of Georgi and such, but I don't see why I have to keep practicing these routines when I've started on my new routines for next Season!"

He sent an almighty pout in Yakov's direction, imploring the man to pay him the pity he was due.

Yakov gave no such thing. Instead, he gave Victor glares and pursed lips. His extended forehead was almost purple.

"That still requires you to train, Vitya. Spending your time out in the cold weather can make you ill. And if you miss the European Championships and end up breaking your streak of winning, it'll cause unholy hell to fall upon your shoulders from the Federation. And none of us want to actually deal with any of them if we can help it!"

He scoffed. "They still have Georgi if they want worthwhile representation so badly. And Yuri is coming up quickly. He'll be joining the Senior Division next year and I won't always be able to skate, so why do they put all of their hopes on me when we all know that I don't have many Seasons left in the first place?"

Maybe he would like to have a life of his own at some point in the near future? Something outside of figure skating and the cruel ice he'd dedicated more than two thirds of his life to. For a little bit. He'd love to go somewhere with his dearest poodle Makka and just take a long holiday. Besides, his knees were starting to ache more and more as the days passed. Eventually, he wouldn't be able to keep up.

Yakov understood him to a point, but the man ate, slept, and breathed figure skating for the past fifty plus years. Skating was what literally ended his marriage. Twenty years of dedication to the ice had already been stacked against Lilia when she had married the man. And the ice ended up taking more dedication that she had earned in the end.

Victor did like having a life outside of skating. Yakov never got a chance. It was performing as an Ice Dancer, then choreographing for others. Finally, he just decided to become a coach. And for the past thirty or so years, Yakov had been coaching Russian figure skaters nonstop.

He didn't want to become like that. Anything in order to not become like that.

"For now, you are the face of Russia, Vitya. You have to play nice. You get away with far too much anyhow and you cannot afford to go out after such an astounding career, in embarrassment and misery."

"I know."

He knew all too well. That didn't mean that he liked or approved of it.

The old man sighed and stood from his chair. "Get your skates on and get warmed up. And if I ever catch you walking around in the winter without a scarf or gloves on again, I will make you do compulsory figures for a week."

Even Victor had to cave to the man's demands. Figures were so boring! And Yakov was so damned old fashioned too! He would do it just to spite someone.

"Don't give me that look, boy or I'll make you do them now for wasting unnecessary time today!"

Victor skipped off quickly, knowing that if he stuck around any longer, then he would probably infuriate his coach even more and would probably end up doing the figures anyway. It had happened enough int the past that he knew the signs well enough by now.

Halfway through his warm up, half an hour later, Yakov's voice exploded through the room and Yuri Plisetsky ended up being sentenced to a week of compulsory figures. Victor would only sigh in pity for the teen. Victor was just simply glad that it wasn't him.

A/N: The first is done!

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