"Twenty-seven year old male, motor vehicle accident, passenger of a car going at 120 mph before hitting a post. Denies loss of consciousness..."

Only three years older than Yuuri himself. Alert and oriented. Yuuri jotted down report on the new admit, only an hour away from change of shift at 0600. He'd get the new patient settled in, as comfortable as possible, then pass the buck onto the oncoming nurse. He shifted the phone between his face and his shoulder, fixing his glasses. "Vitals stable...? Yeah, sounds pretty cut n' dry... that X-ray looks nasty, though." Yuuri had it pulled up on his chart, the tibia of the dude's right leg obviously fractured in the middle, splintered ends no longer in alignment. Little bit of pain meds... maybe a lot. Definitely needed surgery. He was young, so Yuuri didn't think there'd be any complications.

Phichit, his nurse's aide for the night, his best friend, was setting up the clean room for the latest admit to be. "He'll prolly be going to surgery later in the morning, so NPO," Yuuri casually informed, helping with the set up. Phichit rubbed his eyes tiredly, the rest of his movements quick. "If his leg's fucked up, I wonder how the driver's doing," the tanned male mentioned as he worked.

Yuuri grinned, setting up the IV pole. "Not a scratch on him. But that's good, at least."

"Here he is. That's quick. Let's transfer him from the stretcher." Phichit nodded in greeting to the transporter, who carefully guided the rickety, creaky stretcher into the room. Yuuri's eyes snapped over the condition of the male, quickly assessing him for all the telltale signs of pain as he put on the disposable latex gloves. Silver haired, an abrasion on his forehead, bloodied. A passive, attractive face, something almost foreign about it, his strong jawline hugged by a bulky cervical collar. He was defined, tall, hidden only by the unisex hospital gown he donned, his leg lightly bloodied in its elastic wrap dressing. Yuuri brought on a smile as he positioned himself on the other side of the bed, the three of them preparing to pull him from the stretcher and onto the hospital bed.

"Victor?" He remembered, calling out to him, all but hovering above him. "I'm Yuuri, your nurse. This is Phichit, your aide. We're going to transfer you onto the bed, so I'm gonna need you to cross your arms across your chest, give yourself a biiig hug." He gathered up the draw sheet beneath Victor, prepared to tug him over, when the deepest, silkiest Russian he'd ever heard tumbled out of the patient's mouth.

"ангел. Я умер и ушел на небеса. Можете ли вы трахнуть ангелов на небесах?"

Yuuri's head whipped over to Phichit, who stared at him blankly in return. "What is that, Russian? They didn't tell me in report. Did the translator come up with you guys?" That just complicated things. Yuuri's cheeks puffed out, about to reposition Victor's hands himself, when the man calmly lifted his arms to fold over his chest, a heart shaped smile spreading on those perfect lips.

"Juuuust kidding~ I speak English just fine." Victor chirped, eyes glinting with mischief.

Relief, and then a little bit of amused irritation flitted Yuuri's expression. "A jokester. Okay, Move him on three. One, two, three." They moved him smoothly onto the hospital bed, but not without invoking a little bit of pain upon the transfer. Victor's face tightened up, hissing, before he settled back, taking deep breaths as they worked around him. Yuuri thanked the transporter, before slipping his stethoscope from around his shoulders, placing the bits in his ears. "Just gonna give you a quick assessment, look over orders, get you situated. Tell me about your pain."

"It's there." Victor sighed, picking up his phone from his side, unable to look down what with the collar around his neck, ultimately giving up and huffing, eyes returning to his nurse. "But it's fading quickly. Just the sight of you is making it better. You certainly are easy on the eyes... Yuuri, you said?" Yuuri tried not to roll his eyes, hearing clear lungs, a strong heart. Phichit had finished taking vitals, leaving the room when Yuuri relayed he hadn't needed anything else. He moved his stethoscope lower, hearing bowel sounds, his fingers reaching for the lower edge of Victor's gown.

Victor's hand shot out suddenly, stopping Yuuri from lifting his gown. For Yuuri, it'd been completely normal up to this point, and he'd forgotten to warn Victor. Victor was just unused to being undressed so suddenly- -but the panic was gone, and now something else filled Victor's eyes. Yuuri's face flushed, seeing what was in them. "S-Sorry. I just needed to check your skin. Make sure we didn't miss anything." Why was he so embarrassed? He'd done this a million times.

Victor's fingers relaxed, plopping back onto the bed. "Oh, yes. Of course." He awkwardly shifted his eyes elsewhere, and Yuuri deliberately went quick, making sure there wasn't anything torn, bruised, or swollen, trying not to let his gaze linger for long. But damn, he was built. His gloved fingers pulled the material back down, and when he looked back up Victor's eyes were on him again.

"You're used to this. I shouldn't be so shy." Victor's English was silky, too. The hint of an accent made it otherwise impeccable.

Yuuri felt his heart squeeze, shrugging his shoulders as his fingers trailed down, stopping at the bandage Victor wore over his leg. "Yup, 'm almost too used to this." He looked up into Victor's eyes, staring blankly. "I've seen more penises than ninety-percent of the population."

"Because you're gay?"

"Because I'm a nurse."

The two basked in tense silence, before they burst with badly suppressed laughter. This is why Yuuri did this: the people. There was nothing better than the people he interacted with. Sure, occasionally there were assholes, but a lot more of them were wonderful, diverse people. This one just happened to be handsome, and the air tingled with the electricity of compatibility.

"Wiggle your toes for me?" Yuuri asked, feeling the warmth, seeing the circulation there. Good signs.

"I can't feel them. I can't feel my leg!" Victor said suddenly, his voice sullen enough to make Yuuri's heart thump with fear, when Yuuri remembered exactly who this was, his eyes glaring upward.

Victor's smile came on quicker this time, and he wiggled his toes obediently, lifting his leg. "Almost got you that time, didn't I? Don't tell Pee-cheet, I'll surprise him when he's back." The badly pronounced name had Yuuri shaking his head, smiling despite himself. He pulled out the computer from the wall and checked orders, seeing that Victor was only allowed mouth swabs until surgery, no matter how much he begged and flirted for water. He was spinally cleared too, so Yuuri could take off the cervical collar. His hands were around the male's neck, loosening the device until he was allowed access to that gorgeous neck. Victor sighed in relief, lightly rolling his neck, smiling gratefully. "Thank you. Feels so good to have it off."

"You're lucky." Yuuri mentioned, then explained himself. "That it was only your leg. Complete recovery should be soon, too."

Victor smiled, but it was more polite now. "Not soon enough. I skate- -on the ice." Yuuri usually took this time to chart his assessment, verify orders, but he found himself listening to Victor, his heart swayed by the airy quality of Victor's voice. "The Grand Prix is in a month. I won't be able to skate." Yuuri was almost waiting for Victor to smile and tease him again, but this time he didn't. Yuuri frowned thoughtfully, wondering what he could say to cheer up the Russian male.

"But- -you say I'm lucky. So, I'm lucky." His head lolled over the pillow, eyes brimming with affection. "So. What's the deal with you? Single?"

Here it comes. Yuuri wasn't unaccustomed to getting hit on, usually by older women. The rules of sexual harassment didn't apply similarly to men, it seemed. He pretended he was thinking of other things, nonchalantly dropping that he was indeed, "Single." God, it sounded so sad. But with work, and a crush that ended in the friend zone, Yuuri hadn't exactly been looking. "Your friend, the driver," His partner? It wasn't really his business, but it was strange that Yuuri hadn't seen him or her come up with Victor.

"Back on his way to the airport. He's also competing." Victor brought his phone up to his face, and Yuuri began tinkering with the IV fluids, asking him to relax his left arm to attach the line. "We'll be giving you some fluids while you're here, since you're NPO- -errh, nothing by mouth. Doc'll come around later in the morning, and then they'll get you ready for surgery."

"You'll get me ready for surgery?"

Yuuri smiled, picking the gloves from his wrist, tossing them into the garbage. "I'm off in, like, fifteen actually." Sadly. Yuuri had to stop himself from saying it, the urge hitting him like a train.

"Ohh, good for you. Go home, relax." Victor encouraged, his phone plopped on his chest. His forehead was still a little crusted over with blood from a cut. Yuuri's other patients were asleep, he'd rounded them just before coming into this room. Phichit could call him, if he needed any help. Yuuri grabbed some gauze from the drawer nearby and wet it, pulling up a seat beside the hospital bed. "You've got a little... I'm just going to clean it."

"Oh. Thank you." Victor stared up at the ceiling, feeling the light touch of damp gauze cleaning his cut, and not flinching. Yuuri was gentle, taking time to study his face. Victor must've been quite the sight on ice.

After a bit of silence between them, Victor turned his head, slightly. "You always work the night shift?"

Yuuri nodded, pulling back the bloodied gauze, pleased to see there was no more bleeding. "Yep. Three nights a week, then I get four off."

"Any chance I could catch you on one of those four?"

His boldness made Yuuri waver. He'd never been so openly hit on by another guy before. Yuuri realized that Victor was picking the gauze from Yuuri's still hand by the clean ends, dropping it to the side. Then, his hand smoothly slipped around Yuuri's.

Yuuri's heart quickened and his eyes flickered to the doorway, covered by the privacy curtain. I'm such a hypocrite. He didn't care about his hand being held, just worried if anyone were to see. But why was Victor being so clingy? Yuuri had a thought, his hand squeezing around Victor's as his expression bore determination. "Y'know, your surgery's gonna be cake." Yuuri nodded his head, realizing that Victor just might've been scared about going under the knife. "These kinds of surgeries are usually pretty quick. And with how young you are, your lack of medical history, the risk of complications is super low. Not to mention, you're in... really good hands." Of course Victor would be scared. He was in an unfamiliar place, missing his flight, his glamorous life, not a friend near him. "Depending on how well it goes, you could be looking at discharge whenever you've got transportation worked out!"

Victor's eyebrows furrowed, and Yuuri realized it was amusement. "Thank you. I'm sure I'm in good hands." Victor's thumb stroked over the back of Yuuri's hand. "I'm not holding your hand because I'm worried..." he trailed off, lips quirked into a smile. "Is it that hard to believe I'm interested in you?"

Yuuri flushed, hopelessly. "Damn it." He breathed, his hand slipping from Victor's as he stood, trying to collect himself. "You interested in- -you're just interested in messing with people."

"But I am."

"You- -" Yuuri felt upset. A little attention and he was caving in. No, not yet. But he wanted to, badly. "You call if you need anything, okay? Increase in pain, nausea, if you've gotta use the restroom- -Just press that little red button."

"Haha. I will." His eyes held nothing like deceit, and everything of light and warmth. Victor hadn't meant any harm, it was no use getting angry at a man so agreeable. "I know I've given you a hard time, but thank you, Yuuri." Victor pulled up his phone in front of his face, ending the conversation between them.

Yuuri walked out, checked on his other patients in his care, and settled himself for report. He'd expected the hijinks to start up again with Victor, at the introduction of his new nurse, but Victor was polite, sedate. His eyes lingered on Yuuri, but the burse tried not to think about it as he gave the oncoming nurse details of the accident, the treatment so far, and the plan. She was leaving the room shortly after, and Yuuri knew he had to follow.

"... Good luck." Yuuri got over himself, his hands cupped together. "You'll probably get discharged by the time I work again, so. This is it."

"So it is." Victor smiled. It stirred something in Yuuri. "Well, in the little time we've known each other, I've thoroughly enjoyed it. It's a shame I can't stay longer."

Yuuri wanted to agree, but he shook his head, laughing softly. "Nah, you've gotta get better quick, so you can skate again, soon. Win gold, all that Jazz." Yuuri fixed his glasses, nodding his head toward the door.

"What? No kiss goodbye?" Victor thought he could tease him again, that Yuuri would get frazzled and leave in a huff.

Yuuri felt himself walk closer to the bed. Victor didn't look daunted yet, not until Yuuri was leaning over his bed. As the shock swept over Victor's wickedly handsome face, Yuuri lingered in the little space between them, and finally closed the distance.

He must've gone crazy. Kissing a patient, with nothing but a curtain and Victor's silence keeping from him losing his license. He broke the soft contact, standing up straight, noting the pink tinge of Victor's cheeks. Yep, that silver-haired foreigner who'd been so cocky earlier was definitely now blushing. And now, Yuuri's smile was dissolving.

"Uhh. I gotta. Yeah." Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Victor wasn't smiling. Why wasn't he smiling? Yuuri had just expected him to laugh it off, but now nerves were attacking Yuuri all at once. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But those lips had been so soft- -Yuuri thought kissing another man would've been a lot more unpleasant.

"Yuuri? Report on 202?" His coworker called for him, making Yuuri quickly return to her side. The rest of report went by smoothly, but his mind was racing, thinking of what could possibly happen. Victor didn't seem like the type that'd report him. No one would find out, he'd be back to Russia or wherever he was from soon. It relieved him, and saddened him at the same time.

Work ended, and the drive home was quiet. He'd ate a light 'dinner' and slept in till noon, trying to stay awake for the rest of the day with chores and errands just to get himself back on a regular sleeping schedule. He thought of Victor, of the little time they'd shared. Of that kiss. It distracted him from his own love life, or lack thereof. He was tempted to look up Victor, another taboo thing. But he'd already kissed a patient, and there wasn't anything worse than that.

"He's so fucking hot." Phichit commented over his shoulder, the two out at lunch on their fourth and final day off before they went to work. Some cafe with tables outside, cool enough just for warm clothes, but sunny enough to enjoy the heat of the rays shining down on the busy street. They were watching one of Victor's performances on youtube now, the talented, apparently world famous, Russian ice skater seducing a crowd of thousands as he moved fluidly on the ice. Phichit was allotted his opinion, but Yuuri was scared the second he said anything, or agreed in any sort of way, the truth would come out. Phichit was his really, really good work friend, knew him ever since he came to Detroit, but he wasn't about to tell him he kissed the dude.

"Won't be able to skate like that for awhile, though." Yuuri lamented, closing his phone, taking a bite of some quinoa avocado bullshit he'd ordered. Eating healthy sucked.

"He's probably already back home. You can fly on a plane with one of those scooter things, most likely." Phichit mentioned idly, lips wrapped around the straw of his tropical smoothie. Yuuri smiled to himself, thinking of the Victor Nikiforov, looking quite inelegant on the steerable knee walker. But, yes, Victor was most likely home. Yuuri heard a squeak of a break, and a silky, captivating, "дерьмо!"

Yuuri's head turned quickly, and he saw Victor, awkwardly trying to shift his knee-walker back onto the sidewalk. Yuuri stood from his seat, breath quickening. Phichit followed his gaze, understood immediately, and smiled to himself. "Not home yet, then." Victor looked up, his course readjusted, his eyes landing on Yuuri's.

Victor's lips parted agape, the stupid look so stupidly becoming that Yuuri could feel his heart melting. Then, a broad smile. "It's Yuuri!" A glance and a polite nod toward the younger looking male next to him. "And... Peachy?"

"Phichit," Yuuri supplied, remembering to breathe again. Victor did look ridiculous on this scooter-like contraption, holding onto the handlebars like his life depended on it, his good leg supporting him while the casted one rested on the seat. But Victor looked even better in regular clothes, wearing a long coat, a turtle neck, corduroys beneath. He looked like a model, albeit an unfortunately clumsy one.

Victor looked like he wanted to say more, too. "I didn't think I'd see you again." His eyes darted off, as if he was remembering something. "I left you a note, with the front desk lady," Victor confessed, swallowing.

He did? Yuuri's face was slowly reddening, he could feel his cheeks burning, looking around them as passerby walked between them. "Oh. I haven't been back to work since, so. Erh. You didn't have to."

"No, you don't understand, I really thought I wasn't going to see you." Victor looked mortified, wobbling as he scooted to close the distance between them. Phichit was watching curiously, caught between his smoothie and Yuuri's unfinished food, like popcorn for a movie. "You can't read it now," Victor blurted adamantly, causing Yuuri to raise an eyebrow. "Why not?" Yuuri asked.

And it was like the contents of the unread note were displayed openly on Victor's face. His fair, soft looking skin went hot pink, as if burned. His lips, which Yuuri thought was always pulled in a smile, were trembling softly in a frown. For all the world, he looked like he was going to cry. Yuuri felt like he was falling, just watching him.

"I won't read it," Yuuri quickly supplied, lying through his teeth. "I promise." God, he couldn't get over how cute Victor was. A man as flamboyantly flirtatious as he was, getting so shy over a note? There was no way in Hell Yuuri was going to not read that note.

"You're a bad liar. I don't believe it for a second, Yuuri." Victor huffed, his eyes flickering over to Phichit. "That looks good."

"It is good. Quinoa stuffed avocado wrap." Phichit answered, extending the unfinished half. Victor shook his head in polite refusal, leaving Yuuri on tenterhooks. "Anyway. This has been... a pleasant surprise. Maybe unpleasant for you." The normal color was returning to Victor's face. Yuuri bit down on his lip, knowing it'd be improper, but asking anyway. "You're not staying long? In Detroit?" Phichit's eyes widened at Yuuri's question, almost sounding like he was begging Victor to stay.

Victor smiled breathtakingly soft. "I return to Russia the morning after tomorrow, and will recuperate there." Tomorrow. Yuuri felt his throat constrict suddenly, coughing into his hand. "Stupid quinoa."

"I didn't mean to... intrude." Victor knew Yuuri was single, he knew that Phichit was nothing more than a friend. But he was finding a way out. Did... Victor really write something to be ashamed of? Was it only meant to be something fleeting between them, less than thirty minutes of acquaintanceship, one kiss, and a few shared smiles?

"You've got things to do." Yuuri resigned himself, face lowering. "Certainly... good to see that surgery went well." Forcing a smile, his eyes didn't meet Victor's. "I-I... really won't read the letter. If you don't want me to." Yuuri was afraid of what he'd find there.

Victor had more to say, but left it there with a nod of dismissal. They were both idiots- -such little time transpired between them. Then why did Yuuri feel such a strong pull of gravity toward Victor as he walked away? Why did he have to suppress the urge to reach after him? Neither of them understood it.

Yuuri took his seat, long after Victor left. Phichit pushed his now empty plate back in front of him.

As much as Phichit wanted to, he didn't ask questions, and Yuuri was grateful for that. They went their separate ways, work eventually reuniting them Monday night. Yuuri had almost been dreading passing the front desk, when the health unit coordinator called his name. "That handsome man in 201 left you this," An older woman, one obviously charmed by him. Who wasn't? Yuuri smiled nervously and thanked her, eyeing the front of the envelope. A cold, cryptic, Nurse Yuuri written on the front.

Yuuri raced into the nearest bathroom, his backpack slipping from his shoulders, his breath uneven as he locked the door behind him. He tore it open, reading the front of the greeting card.

I'm sorry for your loss.

He wrinkled his nose, and opened it, despite promising Victor two days earlier that he wouldn't. The first written line explained the choice of card.

The gift shop was out of 'Thank You' cards.

Yuuri laughed to himself, feeling his vision blur with tears. There was a large flood of hand written text below that, but he couldn't read it. Not before work. The myriad of feelings welling up inside him wouldn't let him- -if he was crying just from the introduction. Yuuri had to work. He placed the card in his backpack, exiting the bathroom with dry eyes.

He kept it in his pocket despite himself, feeling a strange mix of comfort and upset with it so close to him. After the bustle of the first half of the shift, he took it out to read during lunch.

You were right. The surgery was cake, and they let me leave the same day. Complete recovery isn't as soon as I'd like, but as you said, I'm lucky.

I'm so lucky to have met you.

Yuuri blinked, feeling that horrid tightening of his chest, the way his eyes prickled with tears. He took off his glasses, wiping his eyes.

I know you won't be back in time to see me leave. I almost faked a stroke, thinking they'd keep me an extra few days, but the day nurse seemed like she was new and I felt really guilty potentially terrifying the poor girl.

Laughing soft sobs, he poured over the letter, letting every word soak in.

Yes, I love 'messing with people'. And it's not often I establish genuine connections with other people.

But in that early morning, when you smiled at me, and laughed with me, and... well.

That.

I knew I'd been in that accident for a reason. I was meant to be here. You and I were meant to meet. And even you knew how lucky I was.

I don't even know your last name. I don't know what you like to eat, or what you do in your spare time, or what made you become a nurse.

All of these things, admittedly, I'd like to know, but I don't.

Honestly, I'm already so in love with you.

"Jesus Christ." Yuuri laughed to himself, happily wiping away tears. "He's crazy. He is so crazy."

I know, crazy. But I can't stop thinking about you.

I don't want to believe that this was just a one time thing, that we only have those precious, thirty-some odd minutes to look back on for the rest of our lives.

I'm not going to believe it.

When you get off your shift, I'll be at the airport.

Yuuri wiped his eyes until they were red and puffy, trying desperately to read.

If I know you as well as I think I do, you'll be there. You'll have been thinking of me too.

You'll come running in your scrubs, which is a shame, because I know you'd be even more handsome in casual clothing.

Ironically enough, Victor would know by now, from their chance meeting in town.

And when we see each other at long last, you will run into my arms. I will kiss you, much longer than that pathetic excuse of a goodbye kiss.

"Hey. That pathetic excuse of a goodbye kiss made you super red. Dick."

Ahh, I want to hear it so badly. You'll say it for me, won't you?

What? What did he want to hear? Yuuri read it over again, feeling like he was missing something.

Say it for me, Yuuri. Out loud.

It came to him, and Yuuri felt his heart beating hard. How stupid was this?

"You're an idiot. 'm not saying it to a stupid card." Yuuri's voice was quiet, his fingers trembling as he grasped the card. "And if you think I'm going to meet you, after you treated me like that at the cafe, you're really crazy."

Good. I feel the same.

I look forward to seeing you again.

Yours,

Victor

Lunch was over, and hours passed. Yuuri scrambled to collect his things after giving his offgoing shift report, in so much of a rush that he nearly passed Phichit. "Woah, you're out early- -what's wrong?"

"Tell you tonight!" Yuuri gasped, waving him off.

His fingers clutched Victor's note like a lifeline.

Twenty-four year old Japanese male, mainly complaining of chest pain, throat tightness, and shortness of breath. No known allergies, not currently on any home medications. Diagnosis? Lovestruck. Recommendation?

Kisses, as needed.