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Yuuri had had just about enough of this training session. It seemed that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he pushed, it wasn't good enough. The way Victor gave him feedback seemed pleasant enough, but inside Yuuri knew that the senior skater was displeased. It twisted his gut with anxiety and shame at disappointing his senpai, but at this point he was clueless as to what Victor wanted.
Perhaps all of this had been one big joke just to rub in his face. It seemed like Victor was always satisfied with le autre Yuri. That had been the last straw for him. He got up from where he had been sitting on the bench, resting, and threw his blade guards with some force. Victor gave him a curious look out of the corner of his eye, but didn't halt his conversation with Yuri.
Yuuri bit into his lip as he began to make laps around the rink, picking up speed each time. If he wanted to pull this off, he needed to be going pretty fast. The quadruple sal had been his nemesis from day one, and he was determined now to show Victor that he could do it.
"You'll see," he muttered under his breath. "You'll see that I can do this, and then I'll be worthy of your praise and attention."
Yuuri had never once landed a quadruple anything, but this time, this time, he knew he could do it. He took a deep breath, focusing on his heartbeat and the gentle 'skt skt' sound the blades of his skates made against the ice. He pushed forward, throwing his body into the air, arms tight against his chest as he spun.
"I'm gonna do it..." he told himself. He looked afar and saw Victor's cerulean eyes on him, brows drawn together, eyes glimmering with interest. Yuuri swallowed thickly. It was like he was in a daze as he came back down, not hearing Victor shouting to him.
He came back down to the ice, and hard at that. His blade wobbled as he failed to dig in his toe pick and down his came, his legs falling out from under him, leg jerking sharply to the side. He felt something snap and then searing, white-hot pain coursed though his entire leg. He cried out.
"Yuuri!" Victor shouted, leaving his post by his Russian counterpart as he skated quickly to Yuuri's side. "Моя маленькая миска из свиной котлетки ...are you alright?"
He touched Yuuri's shoulder, eyes alight with worry. Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut.
"Y-yeah...yes I'm fine." Yuuri tried to push himself back up, but hissed in response, grabbing his right ankle. Victor moved closer on his knees, moving the leg of Yuuri's trousers out of the way. His brows drew together at the sight of the purple skin, mottled and bruised. He carefully looked at the underside of the leg, to which Yuuri protested profusely.
"Vell, at least it's a closed break. But a break nonetheless."
"A break?!" Yuuri cried, shocked.
Yuri had skated over to see what all the fuss was about. He was smirking, shaking that honey-blond hair of his.
"Stupid little piggy. You'll never be able to land that jump."
Victor's head whipped to the side to look up at the other skater.
"That is enough, Yuri! Оскорбления для слабых. Now make yourself useful and fetch some ice!"
The other boy's eyes narrowed, and he looked to be concocting some line to retort back with but Victor jumped to his feet, pointing towards the atrium.
"Now!" He snapped.
Yuri huffed, balling his hands into fists before he turned sharply, skating off he rink and disappearing. The pain hurt so much that Yuuri felt like crying, but he bit back the tears.
"Are you ok?"
Victor looked into his eyes.
"It just...hurts...a lot..." Yuuri's voice trailed off.
"Why did you try to do a quadruple sal if you knew you couldn't? I've told you not to push yourself, to focus on the delivery of the performance."
Yuuri couldn't look the elder in the face. "Because...I-I wanted to impress you..."
He looked up, defeated, feeling, as Yuri had called him, like a stupid little piggy. But instead of being angry, Victor only smiled, his eyes going bright again.
"Oh Yuuri," he chuckled some. "You don't need to try and impress me. I know vhat you're capable of. That's vhy I came here. I knew you could be an amazing skater if only you believed in yourself."
"Really?" Yuuri looked on, awestruck. Victor nodded.
"Do you know vhy ve fall, Yuuri?" The other shook his head. "So that ve can learn to pick ourselves back up."
There was a moment of silence exchanged between them.
"Now," he started. "Let's get you off the ice."
Yuuri waited for Victor to pull him up, but instead the other leaned in and scooped him up. Yuuri made a sound of protest, his face turning twelve thousand shades of red. Victor carried him off the ice with such grace and care, taking him into the atrium where Yuri practically threw the ice at the older's head.
"Here," he spat spitefully as he crossed his arms over his chest. He turned his eyes to Yuuri as Victor carefully - almost lovingly applied the ice to the purpled skin of Yuuri's ankle. "You best heal up, little piggy." Yuri started huffily, pointing in Yuuri's direction. "That vay you can get back on the ice. And I can look forvard to beating you at the Grand Prix." He smiled smugly.
"Thanks for the pep talk..." Yuuri started, cringing as he felt the ice hit a particularly sore spot. "Ow..."
Victor looked up from his crouched position on the floor, smiling apologetically. He reached up to brush back some of Yuuri's dark hair. He stood, stooping to press a kiss to Yuuri's forehead.
"Yurio!" He bellowed. "Hold this ice in place until I get back. I need to get bandages from the office."
"Excuse me?" The other boy barked.
"Делай как я говорю."
Victor was already halfway down the corridor. "And vhy should I do that?!" Yuri growled.
Victor stuck his head around the corner of the doorframe, smiling in that manner that he did. "Because I am older than you."
Yuri looked like he could have snapped the bench in half, metaphorical smoke coming out of his ears. He stood his ground for several minutes before begrudgingly plonking onto the ground in front of Yuuri. He took the other's heel, roughly at first, but eased up when he saw the other boy's discomfort. He began to move the ice about.
"Do you think it'll be ok?" Yuuri asked uncertainty.
Yuri blew a lock of flaxen hair out of his face, turning Yuuri's ankle over.
"Da." He answered, shrugging some as he continued his ministrations with the ice.
Victor returned carrying the rink's first aid kit, Yuko practically on his heels. She rushed over, practically sobbing.
"Yuuri!!!!!! Are you ok?!?!? Oh, you poor baby!!!!"
She was rubbing her face against the side of his, as how a cat might brush against its master's leg.
"He's fine." Yuri began haughtily, standing. He threw the ice at Victor. "I'm done playing doctor. I'm going back to practice more."
Victor hardly seemed to care as he returned, kneeling once more in front of Yuuri as he unrolled some bandages, beginning to wrap the injury.
"You'll still need to go to the hospital, but this vill set it for now."
"O-ok..." Yuuri spoke, his voice wobbling.
His cheeks were on fire, and as he looked up, he saw Yuko's girls with all their filming equipment peeking around the corner. His face burned even hotter at the idea of seeing Victor playing nursemaid to him posed online tomorrow.
"There," Victor said with some satisfaction. "Now, let's go get those x-rays, Моя маленькая миска из свиной котлетки."
Yuuri blushed even darker. He had no idea what the other's words meant, but he had a feeling that they were meant to be affectionate.
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