Ship: Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice Major Tags: sexual content (referenced) Other Tags: medical issues, honestly spent too much time looking at gifs for this wondering how anyone made it thru uninjured Word Count: 452
Sorry, this is not very serious ... or sexy.
***
“Poor dear Chris, cut off in your prime,” Victor said sadly. “You were so handsome and so young.”
“I’m not dead, Victor,” Chris said irritably.
“But you broke your hip on a sex swing in St. Petersburg,” Victor said, relentlessly. “It can only go down from here.”
“I didn’t break my hip on a sex swing, I broke it when I fell off a sex swing, and also, it’s not broken, just bruised.”
“I’m just so glad to keep you for a little while!” Victor said brightly. “The doctors told you not to move for at least two weeks, didn’t they? I’ll be here, until I have to go to practice. Or walk Makkachin. Or have to go out. Otherwise, I’m all yours!”
Chris tried to pretend those words didn’t give him a little thrill, but they certainly did.
*
It was actually very embarrassing to admit that he’d gotten injured in this way -- Chris would rather people speculate baselessly on different career-ending injuries that could have plagued him. He was almost twenty-five, anyway, and already the rumors had started about his retirement. Chris didn’t want to retire. He wanted to keep skating forever, if he could. He wanted to skate beside Victor more than anything.
Skating besides Victor, and staying in Victor’s apartment when Victor was mostly out was a different thing, however. Makkachin was usually with him and probably wouldn’t like it if Chris snooped through Victor’s sock drawers or medicine cabinets. So, mostly, Chris sat on the couch and watched Russian serials that he couldn’t understand but followed anyway.
When he got hungry, he would order something from Victor’s meal delivery service. The doorbell rang five minutes after he’d ordered and Chris wondered if they really could be that fast. But when he opened the door, it wasn’t his lunch at all, but young Yuri Plisetsky, who glared at him.
“What are you doing here, you perverted piece of Swiss cheese?”
So young and yet so vicious! Chris could almost admire that. “I hurt my hip when I came to see Victor,” he said, wounded. “I’m just recovering here.”
“Mooching off Victor, you mean,” Yuri said, pushing past him. Makkachin padded over to him and graciously accepted his pats. They ended up watching a serial about Sherlock Holmes, but Russian, until Chris fell asleep.
When he woke up, Yuri was gone, but Victor was here. “Are you feeling better, Chris?” Victor asked, stroking his hair gently. Chris sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
“Victor?”
“Yes?”
“The next time I’m on a sex swing, I should strap myself in, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes, Chris. If they have straps, use them.”
Chris nodded, strangely happy with how this had all turned out.
FILL: Team Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, T
Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice
Major Tags: sexual content (referenced)
Other Tags: medical issues, honestly spent too much time looking at gifs for this wondering how anyone made it thru uninjured
Word Count: 452
Sorry, this is not very serious ... or sexy.
***
“Poor dear Chris, cut off in your prime,” Victor said sadly. “You were so handsome and so young.”
“I’m not dead, Victor,” Chris said irritably.
“But you broke your hip on a sex swing in St. Petersburg,” Victor said, relentlessly. “It can only go down from here.”
“I didn’t break my hip on a sex swing, I broke it when I fell off a sex swing, and also, it’s not broken, just bruised.”
“I’m just so glad to keep you for a little while!” Victor said brightly. “The doctors told you not to move for at least two weeks, didn’t they? I’ll be here, until I have to go to practice. Or walk Makkachin. Or have to go out. Otherwise, I’m all yours!”
Chris tried to pretend those words didn’t give him a little thrill, but they certainly did.
*
It was actually very embarrassing to admit that he’d gotten injured in this way -- Chris would rather people speculate baselessly on different career-ending injuries that could have plagued him. He was almost twenty-five, anyway, and already the rumors had started about his retirement. Chris didn’t want to retire. He wanted to keep skating forever, if he could. He wanted to skate beside Victor more than anything.
Skating besides Victor, and staying in Victor’s apartment when Victor was mostly out was a different thing, however. Makkachin was usually with him and probably wouldn’t like it if Chris snooped through Victor’s sock drawers or medicine cabinets. So, mostly, Chris sat on the couch and watched Russian serials that he couldn’t understand but followed anyway.
When he got hungry, he would order something from Victor’s meal delivery service. The doorbell rang five minutes after he’d ordered and Chris wondered if they really could be that fast. But when he opened the door, it wasn’t his lunch at all, but young Yuri Plisetsky, who glared at him.
“What are you doing here, you perverted piece of Swiss cheese?”
So young and yet so vicious! Chris could almost admire that. “I hurt my hip when I came to see Victor,” he said, wounded. “I’m just recovering here.”
“Mooching off Victor, you mean,” Yuri said, pushing past him. Makkachin padded over to him and graciously accepted his pats. They ended up watching a serial about Sherlock Holmes, but Russian, until Chris fell asleep.
When he woke up, Yuri was gone, but Victor was here. “Are you feeling better, Chris?” Victor asked, stroking his hair gently. Chris sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
“Victor?”
“Yes?”
“The next time I’m on a sex swing, I should strap myself in, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes, Chris. If they have straps, use them.”
Chris nodded, strangely happy with how this had all turned out.