CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY FOUR

It took the 'assistance' of event staffers to get the two skaters up and off the ice - and each other. They all seemed to take it in stride, offering at worst some teases about how much time the pair were taking. Yuri felt himself pulled up to his feet first, and set his toe-picks down with a comical pout on his face before reaching down to offer his hands to his spouse.

"No one can say we didn't make the best of it this time." He commented, dragging his husband across the ice until those rubber blade-guards could find traction on something that wasn't frosty and slippery. Still, it worried him that the silver legend seemed to be favoring the one leg, keeping his weight on the left and only setting a toe down lightly on the right, "I can wager a guess about where we're going after the kiss and cry though."

"Hah?" Viktor seemed genuinely confused, sticking the right leg out first as he meant to take a step, only to find it collapse under himself as he tried to rock forward onto it. Yuri caught him quickly, but Viktor still wouldn't admit anything specific was wrong, "Ah forget this. It was worth it anyway."

"Viktor-"

"Kiss and cry! Now! Coach's orders!"

Yuri quirked a brow as his partner hobbled forward, but he helped offset the discomfort by acting like something of a crutch on that side, pulling his husband's right arm across his shoulders and bracing his own hand against the man's back. He paused half-way through his first step though, hearing Minami calling for him from behind, and looked back over a shoulder to see what the teen was trying to get his attention for, "...Shouldn't you be getting ready to go out next?"

"Your blade-guards-" The chicken nugget pointed out, holding one up in each hand, with a goofy-hopeful smile on his face.

"Oh-"

Minami hopped forward excitedly though, pulling Yuri's leg back unexpectedly like a horse farrier would, and slapped each guard onto those naked gold blades with the swiftness of a professional. When he let the second leg down again, the teen had his hands on his hips, only to whip one forward again to give a V-sign, "All taken care of!"

Yuri deadpanned him awkwardly, "...A-arigatou..."

Morooka and Oda were watching the spectacle on their display screens from further down the rink, and the younger of the two was rubbing his chin, [It would seem like Viktor-san is favoring his right leg for some reason. I wonder if he hurt it when he fell?]

Oda looked carefully as Yuri set the Russian down first onto the bench in the kiss and cry, [I agree. Not a good omen for his first competition with the JSF.]

[Let's withhold judgment for now, then. It may be fine by the Exhibition Gala tomorrow night. For now, we all want to know what Yuri-san's score is going to be.]

Minako was watching nervously from her vantage, I wonder if I should go down there to see if he's okay?

Yuri forced his husband to sit sideways, setting him down on the bench only long enough to reach down, grab the man's right leg, and pull it up and around as he himself took his place, setting the limb on his lap.

"This can wait till later-" Viktor protested, trying to pull his leg back, only to find it caught by Yuri's fingers looped through his laces, "Yuri-" He whined instead.

"Ignoring it won't make it go away." The younger man pointed out, using a single finger from his free hand to push down on the top of the Russian's shin to push the leg back down to where he'd had it before, "I'm the one who pulled you onto the ice...the least I can do is see if you're okay."

"It can wait though-"

"But I want to."

Viktor just puffed his cheeks out and crossed his arms, looking forward at his spouse, only to relent as quickly as he'd begun protesting in the first place. He just leaned back instead, palms gripping to the bench just behind himself, watching as the laces to his right skate were pulled loose and the boot off. His sock came next, and some immature giggles from half the audience...which just made Viktor smirk a bit, and he flexed his toes, straightening out his whole leg as though the very sight of his pasty-white limb was something alluring or taboo. When he tried to extend the foot out though, he felt the same twinge on the inside of his ankle as he'd felt when he slipped, and that was the end of his sexy display. He whined quietly and slouched forward, pulling his hands off the bench again to set his elbows over his thighs to hold himself up, "Well this sucks."

Yuri's fingers were cold initially, but quickly warmed up as he pressed and kneaded with his thumbs, trying to find exactly where the pain was coming from, "I guess it was bound to happen."

"Yakov is going to kill me."

"Not before a lecture that boils down to 'I told you so,' after all the grief he gave you for those stomping moves you used to do at the start of 'Evoke.'" Yuri quipped, pressing lightly with one thumb to the groove just beneath the Russian's medial malleous, though to Viktor it felt like he'd jammed his thumb in there like a knife and he jumped slightly. Yuri pulled his hand back and set them both flat on the top of his husband's exposed lower leg, "...Sorry."

"This is karma for making you feel bad with my stories earlier." Viktor sighed, sulking even more then, "It's going to mess up our Exhibition tomorrow...and you didn't bring a costume for your solo show."

"I didn't think I'd need to, and for the moment, I'm not worried about it." Yuri explained, gently massaging around the sore spot instead, moving his hands down to the silver legend's foot and rubbing on the heel and under the arch, "If this is nothing serious then it'll be fine quickly, but only if you don't overdo it."

"I'd rather we worry about what your score is going to be...?"

"Ignoring it won't make it go away." Yuri repeated, "And I don't care what I scored."

"...You don't? Why not? You worked so hard and made such a great come-back in the second half...you even did the quad Axel again, with both your arms up!" Viktor tried to emphasize, but it didn't seem to matter, "...Did you imagine the look on Saito's face at least...?"

"I wasn't thinking about it."

"Oh..."

"Nikiforov Yūri-san no tokuten wa... hyaku hachi-jū hachi, kyū-jū go. Kare wa genzai ni-i."

Viktor looked up as the cheering started, hearing the words but still not understanding, "...So?" He wondered; the audience's lukewarm reaction made him worry.

"I'm in second. It's exactly where I expected to be."

"But the numbers...?"

Yuri just pointed to the monitor.

Viktor wasn't impressed, and remained seated even as his spouse stood up to start putting the sock back into place, "Yuri."

[Next on the ice, from Hakata in Fukuoka Prefecture...Kenjirou Minami-san!]

"188.95."

The Russian just made a face at that, "...Better than your usual FS scores from last year, but-"

Yuri abandoned the leg for the moment, moving in closer to silence his partner with a kiss. He held there for a moment, pulling back only when he was sure the man wouldn't keep deflecting, "It doesn't matter. You said it yourself long before we started that our scores here were practically just for fun, because the JSF won't do take-backs on the Olympics after picking us. I'm happy with being in second. I would never be sad about ranking right behind you."

"But-"

"Honestly, it's still weird if I manage to score higher than you somehow anyway." Yuri went on, going back to his task from earlier, and pulled the black sock back over his husband's foot, "Feels like I'm upsetting the natural order of things, actually."

"But-"

Yuri reached his hands forward to help pull the Russian up to standing, picked up the loose brown boot, and resumed his place at the man's right side, watching the floor as they started to move out of the kiss and cry, "But what?"

Like before, Viktor just puffed his cheeks out for lack of knowing what else to really say. Instead, he just paused where they were, pulled his arm off his husband's shoulders and reached down to grab a handful and give a playful squeeze, "...No buts. Just butt."

Tension relieved, Yuri's cheeks still flushed, though he felt things would be better going forward as long as his partner was still willing to make such gestures, even given the current situation. Responding in kind, Yuri lowered where his own hand was on the man's back and gave that ample SkaterBooty a few gentle pats before starting to walk again, "Off we go to the medic's station then." That just earned him a strong nuzzle against the side of his head.

"Yuri's so hot when he takes command." Viktor cooed, mostly to himself, stepping tenderly on his toes as they stepped on, "I have the best husband~! Ow...ow...ow..."

"Yuri-kuuuun~!" Minami called, this time from on the ice rather than next to it, and gestured to all the stuff they'd left on the rink wall.

"Can you watch it for a minute?" Yuri asked, "I'll get it from you later...let me just take care of Viktor really quick."

"Oh! ...Okay!"

"You can use the tissues from the poodle-box if you want." Yuri mused, giving a wink, "Ganba, Minami-kun. Sorry we can't stay to wat-"

"We can st-"

"GANBAAAAAAAA." Yuri waved as he pulled his defiant partner through the curtain.

Minami blinked at the two as they vanished, then down at the poodle-plush tissue box. His eyes suddenly got really wide.

['Phantom of the Opera' - Harajuku]

With the heavy beat of the song vibrating through the floor, Yuri could feel it better than he heard it after a while. But, his focus was on what was right in front of him, and the staff medic who was examining the now-slightly-swollen-on-one-side right ankle.

"You've never hurt it before?" He asked, Japanese accent thick but understandable.

Viktor shook his head, even as he winced when fingers pressed down on the same spot Yuri had done just a few minutes prior.

"Yeah...you strained this medial ligament here." The medic explained, pressing on the same spot again but more softly that time, "You can put your sock back on." He said as he stood up from his rolling stool. He went over to a refrigerator unit where he pulled out a pack of frozen gel-beads, and grabbed an ace bandage on the way back.

"Is it bad?" Yuri wondered, "Can he skate tomorrow?"

Viktor's eyes moved between the two as he listened, but then followed down to his ankle again as the icepack was molded around the inside of his heel and foot. With the sock back on, the cold wasn't as jarring, but he could feel the icy sensation seeping in gradually until the whole thing was secured snugly in place by the elastic-fabric wrap.

"The trick is to stabilize it so it doesn't get stressed out again while it's healing." The medic answered, pulling his nitrile gloves off and tossing them away before grabbing a clip-board to write his notes, "I'd personally recommend against skating until you've gone home and had it imaged. It looks to me like a simple strain...he basically tweaked his ankle by sliding it out to the side too far...but it's always possible that it's worse than that. Is there a Sports Medicine clinic in Hasetsu?"

Yuri shook his head, "Not specifically for sports...but there's three ortho surgeons. Seiwakai Hasetsu has a big PT department, too."

"Then it sounds like you know where to take him. I'll give you a referral."

"...Sooooo what about tomorrow?" Viktor echoed, "Is that a 'yes, but I don't recommend it,' or a hard 'no'?"

"Can you avoid doing jumps or excessive twisting on this leg?" The medic asked, head down while he was still writing.

The Russian glanced aside to his husband, getting a similar look back, then returned forward again, "Uhm...maybe? Most of the big stuff in our Exhibition is on Yuri..."

"If you go easy on this ankle then you can probably get away with a little skating. I have a brace that you can wear that'll prevent a lot of lateral motion, but I can't guarantee it'll fit into your boot...or that it'll be comfortable even if it does."

"We'll test it out." Viktor said nervously, "What's the full recovery time on this kind of thing?"

"Assuming this is a Grade 1 strain like I think it is? 2-3 weeks for the first part, but up to 6 weeks if anything is torn and needs to scar down." He answered, tearing off a piece of paper from the referral pad and handing it over, then moving off again to find the brace he'd mentioned, "But every time you tweak it while it's healing will add layers of weeks onto that. For someone like you, who's already had a long and successful skating career, and only just joined the JSF in time for the Olympics...you should really settle this ankle down and baby it. Take NSAIDs, keep it elevated, rest is as much as you can, and use ice for 20 minutes 4 times a day..." He returned to the exam chair with a few boxes of splints, using the un-burdened left ankle as a sizing guide and placed the first option. It had long, hard sides that went 8 inches above the joint, and another hard piece that went under the heel, with several straps to hold it in place and even more to help keep its proper angle. The sides were lined with a thin gel-pad layer, making it cool to the touch and soft to pressure, "So this is what it'll look like when it's on your right ankle...but keep the ice on it until the medaling ceremony. Ice it again before you go to sleep, and wear the brace as much as you can, even overnight. Try not to put weight on that foot...it'll lull you into a false sense of security by not hurting while you're being good to it, only to give you a really sharp pain if you try standing on it. So don't do that."

Yuri took the offered box with the right-sided version of the splint that was then being removed from his husband's left, and looked it over briefly, "We'll do whatever it takes so he's ready to skate again next month."

"Tomorrow...?"

"Next month."

Viktor gasped audibly, "Yuri Nikiforov you are not benching me."

The medic just smiled nervously, "Uh oh, he brought out the last name...you're in trouble."

"No worse than I've been in before." Yuri returned the uneasy smirk, but then just rose up from the seat he'd been in, and moved to replace the skate on his partner's left foot. When it was on, he sat in that same spot and pulled the boot over his lap to start tying the laces, "I know you can skate with one leg for the medaling ceremony, but don't go crazy with the victory lap, okay?"

"Yuri." Viktor said flatly, arms crossed.

"And try to sit back against the podium and use your left foot to stand up, so you don't have to hop up or use the lower tiers like stairs."

"Yuri."

"Or I can come out early and just help you u-"

"YURI."

Cherry-hazel irises turned to look back sweetly, "Yes, my love?"

Viktor crumbled under that loving gaze and those words, and just whined, "...Nothing..."

Yuri smiled, "That's what I thought."