Dating the school's most popular man was a phenomena that Victor hadn't been prepared for. In fact, with the amount of attention Yuuri received (that Yuuri seemed completely oblivious to), Victor continually questioned his own tunnel vision. How he didn't know who Yuuri was before that fateful party was beyond him, but he was eternally grateful that he knew Yuuri now.
Knew Yuuri intimately, in fact.
He knew the way Yuuri liked his coffee and that despite the customary early mornings, Yuuri hated all hours before 10AM. He knew that Yuuri liked being the big spoon, but needed the comfort of Victor's heartbeat in his ear when his anxiety broadcasted itself through nightmares. He knew that Yuuri hogged the blankets and that he unfairly never had morning breath, and that he had a love of food that rivaled Victor's own. Victor had also made a point to memorize every inch of Yuuri's physical attributes, committing every intimate detail to the depths of his long-term memory.
On any day it was possible, they walked across campus together, hand in hand or arms slung around each other's waists. (Including the days Victor insisted on walking Yuuri to class, despite having to sprint back to the athletic building to clock in for his shifts or slide into his own class with a falsely apologetic smile due to his lateness). Yuuri never noticed (or at least never commented) on the jealous stares of his classmates when they shared goodbye kisses and also never seemed to register the pining sighs of the majority of the campus population as they walked through common areas with their hands intertwined.
There was a possessive part of Victor's heart that liked all of these people seeing Yuuri concentrate only on him. In turn, Yuuri had Victor's undivided attention as well and Victor loved the balance even as he stressed about his own out-of-place concerns. Chris had tried to reassure him that his feelings were natural, stating that he shared some of the same thoughts when it came to the hordes of admirers who seemed determined to stay in Phichit's orbit. His best friend had lamented about Phichit's popularity increasing once he was the university's starting goalie, and Victor had provided his own supportive sympathy for Chris's worries. Jokingly, Chris had closed the conversation, reminding Victor that they were both hot and due to be very rich one day, making Victor's heart feel lighter and his mind less guilty in the midst of his amusement.
As the national tournament grew closer, Victor had asked Yuuri approximately one hundred questions about the way the tournament was structured. The schedule seemed grueling, although Yuuri had reassured him that weekly games were not abnormal and it was merely the hours of preparation and travel which added weight and girth to his already strained schedule. Victor thought differently, but he kept his opinions to himself not wanting to cause Yuuri any additional stress and tried to reassure himself that Yuuri knew exactly what he was doing. It was the opinions of his fellow trainers which told Victor he may have been wrong to assume this.
Mila was the first to say something, only prompted to do so when Victor walked in on a conversation between her and another trainer. She had barely finished her story recalling Yuuri playing last year's tournament with three broken ribs when she looked up to find Victor standing there with his eyebrows in his hairline. He felt the pit open in his stomach, his feet stumbling as he crossed the room and asked her to repeat what she had just said.
Apparently the resolve to keep playing was nothing new to Yuuri, and Victor listened in gawking horror as both of the other trainers spoke of Yuuri's raw determination to keep playing through a list of questionable injuries. There had been the broken ribs from the tournament the year before, the dislocated shoulder (placed back into socket on the side of the field) during the previous year's playoff run, and stitches in Yuuri's cheek when his sports glasses had cracked from an unusually brutal hit. They discussed the way Yuuri's body always looked like the beginnings of a Jackson Pollock painting, littered with splashes of bruises and cuts.
Naively, Victor had voiced his thought that Yuuri should be hurt less as the team's goalie, earning him blank stares and deep frowns. Regrettably, it spurred a discussion of physics, including hand drawn charts showing the trajectory, speed, and estimated forced of impact of each potential shot. He was educated on the damage that could be done to a body if an attackman decided to become too aggressive and collide with the goalie inside of the crease. Independent falling posed less of a risk, but Mila made sure to also cover that aspect of potential injury anyway. It was also unfortunately pointed out that Yuuri's antics of switching positions had not been unique to the first game Victor had seen, and that his aggressive style of play normally earned him several notable marks whenever he took it upon himself to join the less padded members of the team on the field.
It was a horrifying hour and Victor was grateful when the swim team's divers rolled into the training room. Logging all of the information into the back of his mind, Victor swore he was going to find a way to talk to Yuuri about it. He also made a beeline to Yakov's office and followed him around, speaking at lightning speed, until Yakov agreed to assign Victor to the staff traveling with the lacrosse team for the tournament. He prayed that Yuuri wouldn't get injured, but he hoped that if he was the one telling him to sit out, that maybe Yuuri would listen.
The first weekend of the tournament passed without issue. As the top seeded team, they easily demolished the lowest ranked team. Yuuri spent the last quarter of the game on the bench, and in contrast to his normal laser focus, he made Celestino crazy by constantly glancing over his shoulder to catch Victor's eye.
Excitement had been Yuuri's primary emotion when Victor had revealed he would be traveling with the team. It made academic sense, since Victor would have an opportunity to use some of his proposed methods on the team before they boarded a bus and became stiff over a multi-hour ride home. Selfishly, Yuuri was simply happy to have Victor in the seat next to him, a prime partner for post-game snuggling and a perfect shoulder for Yuuri to nap on during the long hours of the ride. The extra attention to Yuuri's thigh muscles by Victor's skilled hands certainly didn't go unappreciated either.
The second weekend of the tournament was also fairly uneventful. Yuuri could feel the strain beginning to build ahead of the game, but was able to easily distract himself by preparing for finals and allowing Victor to dote on him at every turn. Yuuri was not used to allowing anyone to care for him, and there were times when his mind wanted to question why it was so easy to accept Victor's open affections. On the days that these worrisome thoughts curled around the rising nerves of the next game, Yuuri let himself cling to Victor a little tighter. If Victor noticed, he never commented, and Yuuri appreciated the quiet understanding.
When his team successfully won their second tournament game without any remarkable effort, Yuuri could feel a mixture of dazed relief and impending dread. The next game wouldn't prove to be as easy and Yuuri could already feel the pressure mounting as the team returned home from their second win, his shoulders tensing even as he took his first steps off the bus.
Victor noticed the change in Yuuri's mood during the days ahead of the third weekend of the tournament. They both had finals to attend to and they spent most of their together time sitting across from each other in the library or sprawled across one of their bedroom floors. Victor was also preparing to defend his thesis, a realization that was drumming into his mind even as he completed the very last finals of his academic career.
On the night before their third game, the team gathered in a restaurant down the street from their hotel. Yuuri had encouraged Phichit to use his persuasive skills to convince Celestino to allow significant others to join them and because Phichit never failed at any objective he put his mind to, Yuuri was happily leaning against Victor's side as JJ went into another story about one of their past games.
"And then Katsuki!" JJ howled, hands failing as everyone laughed along with him, "this guy goes and flips that asshole over his back! It wasn't until two days later that we found out this idiot was playing with broken ribs!"
"Oh my god, I remember that!" Phichit wheezed, slumping onto Chris as he continued to laugh. "Celestino! Your face was priceless when those x-ray pictures went up!"
Against his side, Yuuri felt Victor stiffen. Glancing upward, Yuuri saw the pinch set in across Victor's lips. "It wasn't that bad. The fractures were hairline at worst and I didn't even feel the pain until almost twelve hours after the game." Yuuri felt apprehension settle into his stomach at Victor's bland expression. He knew that it sounded bad the way the team was currently ribbing him about it, but the situation hadn't really warranted major concern at the time. He hoped that Victor would let him explain, sneaking a hand onto Victor's knee and squeezing to try to reassure his boyfriend.
Victor couldn't say he enjoyed the humor the rest of the dinner guests seemed to get out of Yuuri's stubbornness. He spotted the pink creeping over Yuuri's cheeks and down the back of his neck and felt Yuuri's fingers worriedly gripping at his knee. There was no way to know whether Yuuri was worried about Victor's poorly concealed reactions or whether the current level of attention he was receiving, but Victor was inclined to believe it was the first one. Adjusting his position on the chair, Victor pulled Yuuri closer to his side, trying to reassure Yuuri even though his stomach felt unpleasantly unsettled.
The remaining hour of dinner passed in a blur. Yuuri tried to focus on the conversations around him, finding it nearly impossible with the way Victor's smile had changed from bright to something more subtle. He had no idea what was going on in Victor's mind and his own concerns were ramping up to full screams inside of his head. Grateful that he had agreed to Phichit's proposal to switch between hotel rooms for the hours leading up to curfew, Yuuri nervously fiddled with the fabric of his jeans as he rode the elevator silently with Victor by his side.
Sliding the plastic card into the lock, Victor pushed the door open and pulled Yuuri in behind him. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hold Yuuri. He wanted to somehow do both without destroying Yuuri's concentration for his game.
"Hey." Yuuri dared to speak first, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and guiding Victor to sit on the bed beside him. "I don't know what you're thinking but dinner felt… weird… and there is no way I can get on the field tomorrow not knowing if we're okay." He felt the last two words catch on something dangerous in his throat, his eyes twitching in Victor's direction before dropping to the ground.
"I'm scared," Victor admitted. He shrugged his jacket off and tossed it over the desk chair, ignoring the thud as it slipped off and landed in a lump on the floor. "Trainers talk, you know, and Mila… she said… she told me some things." Shifting, Victor bent his knee so he could face Yuuri, reaching out to prod at Yuuri's waist in a silent request for him to do the same.
Sighing, Yuuri relented, kicking off his shoes and twisting his position on the edge of the bed. Steadying himself, Yuuri forced his eyes to meet Victor's. "When I first started playing lacrosse, I was this chubby little kid without any sense of balance. I got shoved around by the older players and told that I was never going to be any good." Letting his gaze fall again, Yuuri picked at the hem of his jeans. He watched as Victor's hand gently rested on his thigh and felt the knots release from his stomach.
"My mom suggested that I take ballet. It helped a lot and I found that it gave me an advantage on the field. When everyone else was using their brute strength to move around, I was able to see the field differently. Still, I was always the smallest guy out there, and that is not something that opposing players let slide." Yuuri gave himself a minute to pause. He had ever spoken any of this out loud, not even to Phichit or his parents. He had faced all of these obstacles alone, using the taunting words of those ignorant children to push himself harder.
"So… all of this… playing injured," Victor lifted his free hand to gently rest against Yuuri's neck, "it's to prove that you're tough enough?" He felt Yuuri's muscles tense underneath him and cringed at his own inability to express his thoughts.
"Maybe?" Yuuri wasn't fond of admitting it, but Victor had put it fairly succinctly. "I was tired of everyone thinking I was too little, too fat, or too weak, so I did something about it. I trained hard and I played harder. People don't see me as weak anymore."
"Yuuri," Victor brushed a thumb over Yuuri's cheek, guiding him to look at Victor. "Those kids didn't think you were weak. They saw you as a threat, I'm sure of it. The skills you have are born of natural talent. I have no doubt how hard you have worked to hone them, but you have something other players don't have. I'm sure it terrifies your opponents." Victor chuckled when Yuuri rolled his eyes, but his heart beat quickened when Yuuri's smile became less tense.
"No one was scared of me, trust me," Yuuri laughed, scooting further back on the bed and laying down against the pillows. He crooked a finger in Victor's direction and laughed again when Victor pounced on top of him. Using both hands, Yuuri combed Victor's bangs back from his forehead and kissed the exposed skin. "I don't want you to worry about me." His brow furrowed as he studied Victor's face.
"I can't promise not to," Victor smiled softly and leaned into Yuuri's hand against his cheek. "It comes naturally when you lov- care about someone." He prayed that he had amended his sentence quickly enough as to not cause Yuuri any sort of alarm. Although he was positive this is what love felt like, he didn't need to be dropping such intense confessions in Yuuri's lap the night before a big game. Their discussion had already taken enough emotional currency and Victor was eager to repay Yuuri for his open honesty. Wrapping his arms around Yuuri, Victor leaned in for a kiss.
Yuuri was almost positive that Victor had been about to mutter a precious L word that he had only ever heard from his parents, and jokingly from Phichit. His heart was erratic in his chest, the truth of the emotion hammering each letter into his rib cage. Separating only slightly from Victor's lips, Yuuri smiled with his eyes still closed. "I care about you too, Victor." He smiled into their next kiss, hoping that Victor's happy hum meant that he understood exactly what Yuuri wasn't saying.
Game three ended in a nail-biting last three minutes, in which their team scored the first and only goal of the entire match. JJ had been the attacker who had finally landed the ball against the opponent's net, and the team had tackled him to the ground when the final whistle echoed over the field.
Every part of Yuuri felt like it was on fire. Normally, he was sore after a game, the product of pads, heat, and repeated shots against his body. In a grueling game such as this, he was also left mentally drained, his brain sloshing like mush between his ears after an hour of acute mental awareness of every player on the field.
Phichit hadn't subbed in, even for a minute, and Yuuri could see the frustration on his best friend's face as they made quick work of their showers in the foreign locker room. He didn't have the mental fortitude to form proper words, so he settled for laying a hand on Phichit's shoulder and smiling with understanding when Phichit's defeated eyes met his tired ones. He let Phichit pull him into a hug, ignoring the jokes flying around them about telling their boyfriends what they were up to in the locker room. They separated in laughter, exchanging their private handshake before turning to throw their towels at their closest teammates.
The bus was eerily quiet on the ride home, the entire team too exhausted from their hard-fought win to engage in any sort of conversation. Yuuri let Victor pull his head down onto Victor's lap, falling asleep within the first few minutes of Victor's gentle caressing of his scalp.
Stars speckled the sky as the team bus finally made its turn towards the campus. Victor kept his eyes trained on the moon, his eyelids heavy and his thoughts muted with his own fatigue. He had no idea how Yuuri continued to keep such a staggering pace along with keeping his grades up and remembering basic life requirements like eating and showering. Victor had only been traveling with the team for three weekends and he already felt the desire for his own bed crawling like a needy beast under his skin. At the slow stop of the bus, Victor gently shook Yuuri awake, smiling when his boyfriend blinked up at him with bleary eyes.
Together, they trudged from the bus, throwing themselves into the front seats of Victor's car and waiting for Phichit to sprawl across the backseat. Stumbling as a groggy group, they made their way up to Victor's apartment, the scent of homemade food hitting them as soon as the door opened.
"I felt bad that I took the easy way out and flew home," Chris explained, placing bowls of noodles and steaming marina sauce in front of each of them. "So I made you a carb-filled meal." He accepted a sleepy kiss from Phichit and repositioned his chair so he could hold his boyfriend up while Phichit lazily spun his fork into the perfectly prepared noodles.
Watching the exchange with sleepy eyes, Yuuri leaned his head on Victor's shoulder. "Do you think I could absorb this food through osmosis?" he questioned, head drooping forward as Victor chuckled.
"Not likely," Victor placed a kiss against Yuuri's hair and spun a bite from his own bowl, offering it to Yuuri's lips. "I can feed you if you like." He smiled as Yuuri tentatively stole the bite from his fork.
"Tempting," Yuuri spoke around the food in his mouth, glaring at Phichit when he mumbled "gross" from his place against Chris's chest. "I will forge my way through it though." He lifted his fork, feeling as if it weighed tons instead of ounces, and dug into his bowl.
Twenty minutes later when they had all eaten their fill and thanked Chris profusely for his thoughtfulness, they all stumbled toward their beds. Yuuri happily curled around Victor's back, letting his forehead fall into its place between Victor's shoulder blades and sighing happily into Victor's skin. Drowsy, he left one lingering kiss, whispering, "I love you" before passing into blissful sleep.
Smiling into his pillow, Victor wrapped his fingers into Yuuri's, pulling Yuuri's arms tighter around his waist. "I love you too," he whispered, falling easily into dreamland to the sound of Yuuri's peaceful breathing.
Their Sunday together had been nothing more than escaping the bed to retrieve food or use the bathroom, returning to each other's embraces and ignoring the rest of the world. Yuuri's finals had all concluded the week before and he thanked himself for his own decision not to postpone them like most of the team had. The offer was always on the table and Yuuri had turned it down for a fourth year in a row.
Victor's limited class schedule had also concluded, his date for his thesis presentation set for a week after Yuuri's final game. He chose to give himself a day's break from his constant need to work, knowing that the next few days were predicted to be painfully Yuuri-free. Victor hoped that he would have a chance to spend some of the nights in Yuuri's arms, knowing they both slept better when they were together, but also accepted the fact that Yuuri had more important things to focus on. This was Yuuri's last chance to defend their school's reigning title as national champions and he knew that starting Monday morning, Yuuri's focus was going to be squarely pointed toward winning the final game of his collegiate career.
Minutes turned into hours and those hours felt all too short as Sunday afternoon faded into Sunday evening. Propped against Victor's headboard, an open pizza box positioned between them, they let the sound of the movie neither of them was watching fill the room around them. Yuuri's mind had already turned toward his schedule for the week while Victor was busy sneakily evaluating the visible injuries to Yuuri's body.
"You're staring," Yuuri commented, tossing his pizza crust into the box and folding the lid closed. Without leaving the bed, he precariously balanced on the edge of it to shove the pizza box onto Victor's desk.
"Your naked butt is currently sticking up in the air," Victor laughed, poking Yuuri's backside with his toe. "How am I supposed to not stare?" He poked at Yuuri again when Yuuri wiggled his butt back and forth.
Crawling up the bed, Yuuri ungracefully flopped on top of Victor, chuckling when Victor made an exaggerated huffing noise. Snaking his hands behind Victor's back, Yuuri ran them up Victor's lean muscles to pull Victor closer into his chest. "I'm going to miss this over the next few days." Yuuri turned his head to press a kiss to Victor's sternum, his whole body easing into the naked warmth of Victor underneath him.
"We can still have this," Victor skimmed his fingers over Yuuri's shoulders, digging slightly into the muscles when he discovered the last of the remaining tension.
"The cuddles, maybe, but the other stuff…" Yuuri trailed off, burying his face against Victor's chest.
"What do you mean?" Nudging Yuuri until he looked up, Victor leveled him with a questioning look.
"Celestino says that we should abstain from… activities… ahead of big games." Yuuri could feel the red creeping over his face and ducked back down to avoid Victor's eyes.
"Yuuri!" Victor shook Yuuri's shoulders. "We had activities on Friday night!" He heard Yuuri make a noncommittal noise and frowned. Wiggling his way down the pillows, Victor forced Yuuri to rise above him.
Avoiding eye contact, Yuuri brought his arms up to brace on either side of Victor's head. "I mean… Celestino and I have never really had that talk before, because… you know… it wasn't an issue…" Yuuri's entire face burned with embarrassment, recalling the conversation between himself, Phichit and his coach in the middle of the hotel's hallway, five minutes after curfew on the night before the game. "He sort of… caught me and Chris passing each other in the hallway and decided to have a talk with me and Phichit about his before-game rules." Yuuri was still convinced that the conversation really could have taken place anywhere but in the middle of the hallway. Phichit, on the other hand, almost seemed proud for the blatant confirmation that he was getting regularly laid.
"That sounds awful," Victor cooed. He was partially teasing Yuuri because his rosy cheeks were undeniably the cutest thing Victor had ever seen, but he was also sympathetic to how awkward the situation must have been. Remembering his own awkward interaction, Victor felt his own cheeks heat up. "Dr. Feltsman might have also mentioned something about… fraternizing with you ahead of the game. It was the worst lecture of my life and that's saying something because he likes his lectures." Victor took his turn avoiding Yuuri's eyes. "He said something about Celestino being strict… I may have… simply ignored it…"
"We are terrible influences on each other," Yuuri laughed, burying his face into Victor's neck.
"The worst, honestly," Victor responded, the last word fading into a soft moan when Yuuri grazed his teeth over Victor's neck. "When does your enforced restriction begin?" Slipping his hands down Yuuri's back, he made a slow path to Yuuri's thighs, tightening his grasp and guiding Yuuri to straddle his waist.
"Tomorrow," Yuuri lied, kissing Victor's neck again. Celestino had ordered an immediate suspension to all types of intimate acts, pointing down the hall to Leo's face and remarking about the sprained wrist Leo had sustained at the beginning of the year. Leo had disappeared into his room with a squeak and Guang Hong had run out only moments later, sprinting for the elevator as the rest of the team laughed.
Victor was positive that Yuuri wasn't telling him the truth, ignoring it solely because the consequence of pointing it out would leave him aching for week. Deciding it was better for both of them to buy into Yuuri's denial, Victor continued his leisurely strokes over Yuuri's body, determined to soak up as much time as possible with his delectably naked boyfriend.
The roar of the stadium made the ground under Yuuri's feet shake as they prepared to enter the field from the tunnel. His heart shook along with it, the nerves building in his chest and inflating like a balloon filled with anticipation. His ears were numb to the words of the chants, ignoring the sounds of the announcer's voice and instead going deaf to the noise, the singular buzzing of his need to win the only sound still getting through.
National championship games would never be an event that Yuuri would find himself used to. In the first two years of his time at the university, his team had only made it to the third round of the tournament, leaving them to return home with their tails between their legs. Last year had been different though. Last year they had won in a stunning blow-out victory. This year they were returning as the defending champions.
This would be the last time Yuuri would step onto the field as their team's goalie. Although he had begun school as a red-shirted freshman, the plan had quickly changed (magically and with circumstances Celestino created that Yuuri still didn't understand) when the senior goalie had dropped out of school and took off to elope in Vegas with his boyfriend. The scandal had rocked the team, almost as much as Yuuri's pure talent had. After his first game as their starting goalie, the rest of his teammates spent the time in the locker room swearing they were going to write thank you cards to their AWOL teammate.
Now, they were standing together. Yuuri was the senior this time, staring down the barrel of the access tunnel, feeling the weight of the responsibility as if it were a part of his pads. He had to block every shot. He had to give his team every opportunity to score. They had to win.
A sharp pinch in the lower right side of Yuuri's abdomen made him flinch, his eyes squinting as he listened to the opposing team being announced. It happened again and he stretched his back straight, trying to relieve the assumed pain in his muscles.
"You okay?" Phichit put a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, his concern painted across his face and uninhibited by a helmet. Celestino had told Phichit to dress for the game, and Phichit had done so, but he carried his helmet and stick, remarking quietly about not having a chance in hell to play in the actual game.
"Fine," Yuuri responded, forcing himself to not react when the stabbing feeling returned. Most of his week had been spent practicing, carb-loading, and hunched over game film without the comfort of sleeping in bed with Victor on any night. He assumed his body was protesting his terrible decisions in a cruelly new way and shook Phichit's hand from his shoulder. "Ready to win?" he asked, smirking in Phichit's direction to hide the discomfort still dully piercing his side.
"Let's do this!" Phichit yelled, causing the rest of the team to explode around them.
The announcer's voice called their team onto the field, and Yuuri watched his teammates race through the opening, remaining back in formation with the starting lineup.
This would be his last chance to win for his school and nothing was going to stop him from playing every second.
"Yakov!" Celestino called from his place at the sideline, not looking back to where the other man stood. On instinct, Victor followed Yakov a step behind, eyes trained in the direction of Yuuri. "What's my goalie doing? Does he have any injuries I need to know about?" Victor's heart stopped, his eyes gluing to the side of Yakov's face waiting impatiently for an answer. Silently, Yakov narrowed his eyes.
Once again, Yuuri was shifting away from his right side, his gloved hand resting near his hip as his focus remained on the action downfield. Their team was ahead by two goals, but Ciao Bin was getting bolder in the other team's net and Yuuri could see his attackers beginning to struggle. JJ's frustration was building, evident by the way that he simply couldn't hold still even when supposedly freezing for a face-off. If Yuuri could continue to shut them out, they would win the game even without another goal.
"He is favoring his right side," Victor spoke up, startling Yakov who turned to raise an eyebrow at him. "And he keeps putting pressure on it with his hand. There has to be something wrong, that's not a usual habit of his." Nodding in Yuuri's direction, Victor watched as Yakov turned to survey their goalie.
"How much time left in this quarter?" Yakov asked Celestino, eyes never leaving Yuuri.
"One minute," Celestino answered before cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling, "calm down JJ! Focus Leo! Hit him from the left!" The attacker and midliner both waved their sticks in acknowledgment, pacing each other down the field as they made another attempt at scoring. Leo's shot was easily cradled into Ciao Bin's stick causing the entire bench to groan.
"Send Katsuki to me as soon as he hits the side of the field." Yakov crossed his arms, moving to plant himself a few feet from the bench. Victor moved cautiously to his side, worried glances flitting between Yakov's stern face and Yuuri's constantly shifting body.
Preparing himself for the impending shot, Yuuri tightened his hands over his stick. Seung Gil Lee ran toward him at full speed, his terrifying glare attempting to penetrate Yuuri's concentration. Smirking, Yuuri shifted his position and smoothly caught Seung Gil's shot, gasping as a lightning bolt of pain shot up his side. Quickly he dumped the ball to the closest defender and moved back in front of his goal. Seung Gil's eyes lingered on him for a moment, making Yuuri squirm beneath his pads. When the attackman moved away, Yuuri exhaled a shaky breathe, willing his body to stop whatever madness was erupting within it.
A ref in the middle of the field blew his whistle signaling the end of the quarter. Yuuri attempted to jog from his spot, immediately slowing his pace when his body protested it. Sucking in air through his teeth, he vaguely registered Celestino yelling at him to report to Yakov. Angry about having to waste his two minutes with the medical staff instead of reassuring his team, Yuuri yanked his helmet from his head and moved to stomp toward Yakov.
Victor couldn't help mentally noting the extremely flushed tint of Yuuri's skin, nor the angry grind of Yuuri's jaw. He had seen Yuuri hesitate to run from the field and his mind had immediately started to run through symptoms and possible causes. Although he was logically certain that a badly pulled muscle could cause most of Yuuri's behaviors, his gut told him that his diagnosis wasn't correct.
"Katsuki," Yakov scolded, grabbing Yuuri by the front of the jersey to yank him forward. "We have limited time, what's wrong with your side, son. And don't tell me nothing. You haven't received a significant hit all game, but you are protecting your right side as if it's injured."
Taking a defensive step backwards, Yuuri put his hands up. "Nothing's wrong," he lied, avoiding eye contact with Victor. "Maybe a bit of indigestion from last night's dinner, but nothing life threatening." To prove his point, Yuuri twisted into a stretch, biting the inside of his mouth hard to keep from reacting. It's probably a muscle, he told himself, twisting in the opposite direction to prove his point further.
"Yuuri," Victor stepped around Yakov's side, examining Yuuri's face and looking closely for signs of distress. Yuuri wasn't being honest, even if Victor had no concrete evidence to support the theory, he could feel the reality of it in his stomach. "Phichit is dressed, he can go in."
Barely repressing a snarl, Yuuri shook his head to compose himself. "I'm fine, I've got this. It's my game to win."
Victor watched as Phichit's face morphed into an offended expression behind Yuuri's back. Yuuri wasn't thinking clearly, either due to pain or his blind devotion to the team and Victor felt an urgent need to shake him. The whistle blew ending the two minute break and Yuuri turned back to the field without a second glance in his direction.
Instinct and the pooling dread in his stomach made Victor grab Yuuri's arm, yanking him in a half circle to press two fingers to his lower abdomen. Yuuri began to protest, the words dying on his tongue as Victor let go of the pressure and Yuuri's face contorted. "Yuuri, that's not muscle," Victor tried to argue, the push and release pain confirming Victor's worst fear. "You can't…"
"I can," Yuuri responded, shaking Victor's hand off of him and grabbing his stick from where it rested against the bench. He didn't look back as he took his place on the field. He refused to acknowledge the throbbing still boring into his stomach. There was only one thing that needed his attention at that moment, and that was blocking every shot for the last fifteen minutes of the game.
Dumbfounded, Victor stood with his mouth gaping open. Yuuri's selfish decision to remain on the field, when there was definitely something wrong with him, was making Victor's chest feel like it was going to explode. Tears threatened his eyes, eyes which were still watching Yuuri, even as he couldn't do anything more than fight the desire to strangle him.
The next minute moved in slow motion. The other team won the face-off, the ball easily passing between their players as they raced down the field toward Yuuri. Positioning himself for the attack, Yuuri only partially registered the player running towards him from the right side, his mind feeling hazier than ever and his body feeling weighed down and sluggish. He moved too late, missing the block and putting himself in direct line with the charging attackman.
Every person in the stadium gasped as the two bodies collided on the field. Yuuri landed against the turf, his stick falling from his hand as the other player slammed down on top of him. The hit hadn't been on purpose, but the crowd began to react with deafening anger.
Victor's heart dropped out of his chest. While the other player stood with the help of surrounding teammates, Yuuri remained motionless on the field. Faintly, he heard someone from the bench yell that Yuuri wasn't getting up before he registered the shouts coming from the field. His shoulder jostled when Yakov ran past him, Celestino on his heels as the team circled around Yuuri's body.
Feet moving of their own volition, Victor was stopped in his tracks by Phichit's firm grasp on his arms. "Whatever is going on out there, you shouldn't see it," Phichit advised, tightening his grip when Victor attempted to escape it.
The cart appeared with a stretcher, and two attendants moved Yuuri's body onto the lowered bed. There was no thumbs up or signs of life from Yuuri at all and Victor's resolve broke. Throwing his body forward he escaped Phichit's hold and sprinted toward the tunnel.
His feet slapped the concrete as he chased down the cart, reaching it as the stretcher was being removed and guided toward the waiting ambulance. Yuuri's pads and jersey laid in cut scraps on the ground and Victor swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He approached the ambulance, showing his trainer badge. "I'm riding with him," he commanded, not letting his voice waiver when the EMTs paused to consider him. "I'm a trainer on the team and I think I know what's wrong with him. I can help." When the closest EMT nodded, Victor climbed into the back of the ambulance, eyes never leaving the unconscious face of his love.
Four hours.
Four hours after Yuuri had been wheeled into the emergency room, IV already in place and Victor's suspected diagnosis listed on his admittance chart, Yuuri was finally resting quietly in the recovery room. Machines beeped around the small room created by hanging curtains, and Victor sat next to him, anxiously waiting for Yuuri to wake up.
It was confirmed upon examination that Yuuri's appendix had burst. The doctor had informed the team, along with the coaching staff and training staff, that if it hadn't been for the foresight of the trainer in the ambulance, Yuuri could have lost his life. Knowing to look for the appendix rupture first had given them precious time that would have been easily lost during blind evaluation.
Everyone had taken turns hugging Victor. His mind was fuzzy and his heart was bleeding, but he accepted each hug without hesitation. He didn't need their gratitude or Yakov's apologies, he needed Yuuri to be okay. For every second that Yuuri had spent in surgery, Victor stared out of the closest window, begging for Yuuri to make it. Chris and Phichit had spent time sitting with him, none of them talking, knowing that there were no words to describe the feelings they were dealing with. When the surgeon had appeared to report his team's success, Victor had lurched forward asking how soon until he could see Yuuri.
All of those hours felt as if they had passed in another lifetime. The game from earlier felt like something Victor had experienced years ago, instead of a matter of a few hours. Every moment from the one in which Yuuri had collapsed on the field had aged Victor in double the years. Standing at Yuuri's bedside, Victor tried to reconcile all of his emotions, wanting to tie them into a neat bundle and tuck them away in his mind so he could support Yuuri and not require any support in return.
Consciousness faded in slowly, feeling like a heavy curtain rising from behind Yuuri's eyes. The beeps and muted voices circling around him felt otherworldly and completely contradictory to the thundering sounds of the stadium. His mind flooded with confusion as he tried to piece his world back together. His last memory was the regret of his failed block, a regret which sank deep within his heart as he fell toward the ground. Everything after that was blank.
His eyelids felt heavy, as if gravity had increased during his time in darkness. Struggling against their weight, Yuuri opened them, discovering a nondescript ceiling above him. The coolness of the rough sheet over his arms crept into his conscious next followed quickly by the feeling of air being forced into his nose. Grunting against the onslaught of sensations, Yuuri turned his head and discovered Victor standing above him.
Tears stung Victor's eyes as Yuuri turned to face him. He told himself he wouldn't cry, he told himself that he would be strong for Yuuri. None of those resolutions could withstand the sight of Yuuri looking back at him.
Arms hampered by the tubes fed into them, Yuuri reached for Victor. He felt the sob rise in his throat when Victor leaned into this arms, tears pouring down his cheeks as he clung to Victor's broad shoulders. He had no idea what had happened, he had no idea where he was, and his fear caused him to cling to Victor with the desperate desire to never let go.
"You're so stupid," Victor cried, tucking his face close to Yuuri's shoulder and trying to avoid putting any pressure on Yuuri's incision site. "Your appendix burst. You could have… you could've… could've died." Broken sobs crashed from Victor, shattering along with his glass-like tears soaking into Yuuri's hospital gown. "Please, don't ever… I thought…" he couldn't complete a single thought, all of the emotions he had been holding in check since he ran from the field flooded from him as his carefully built dam broke.
"I won't leave you," Yuuri promised in a rough voice he barely recognized. Pulling Victor closer, he leaned back onto the pillow behind his back. His stomach felt uncomfortable and he guessed that the limited pain he felt had something to do with the medications running into his arm. He couldn't wrap his head around the words Victor was saying, he could only focus on the man sobbing into his chest as they clung to each other.
The curtain rattled as it was pulled back, revealing Celestino, Yakov, and a man dressed in green scrubs. Yuuri peered at them over Victor's head, feeling Victor use the front of his hospital gown to attempt to wipe his face.
"We give out a lot of team trophies," Celestino began, hands shoved deep in his pockets with a relieved smile on his face, "but I believe we'll have to create a new one in your honor."
"For stupidity," Yakov added. In spite of his rough joke, he too was smiling at Yuuri. Victor uncurled from his spot in Yuuri's arms to glare at his mentor. "Be thankful for your boyfriend here. His quick thinking and own personal stubbornness saved your life."
Looking at Victor, Yuuri felt a thousand questions swimming into his mind. He wanted to know every detail about what had happened to lead him to the bed he was currently in. He wanted to know exactly what Victor had done to save his life. One incredibly important question pushed to the front of his mind, surpassing the immediate need for answers to the others.
"I just have one question," Yuuri spoke, his voice cracking as he glanced between the men surrounding him. "Who won the game?"
As the tandem scolding began from Celestino and Yakov, Yuuri turned to smile at Victor, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you, for whatever you did." Tugging on Victor's hand, Yuuri tuned out the voices of the two men lecturing him from their place at the foot of his bed.
"I made the right call, at the right time," Victor sighed, knowing that if he had only forced Yuuri not to return to the field, this entire horrific chapter in their lives could have been avoided. Knowing that he couldn't go back in time and that dwelling on it wouldn't change what had happened, Victor let the thought vanish from his mind as he bent to kiss Yuuri's forehead.
Sighing into the warm comfort of Victor's kiss, Yuuri settled back to smile weakly at his boyfriend. Victor looked a little worse for the wear and Yuuri was positive he didn't look any better. Yuuri knew they would need to discuss whatever happened over the course of the unknown amount of hours since the game. He was reassured by the beauty of Victor's smile that they would find a way to make it through it and that they would give themselves the time to do so.
A memory floated back to Yuuri of a starlit field acting like a backdrop to highlight Victor's beauty. Feeling his smile begin to strengthen, Yuuri placed his hand over Victor's heart. "See I told you," Yuuri held Victor's gaze as he finished his thought. "Timing is everything."
There is one chapter left in this fic! It is an epilogue but it will be filled with lots of fun scenes! If you would like to send me a prompt in this universe, please come find me on Tumblr as n3rdlif343va! Thank you for reading!