#sick!victor

[mypoorfaves]

Sickfic drabble

For the prompt "how's your [wound]?" from a lovely list of starters that I saw on my dash but forgot to like/reblog apparently

I've been binging too much rpdr and this was the first thing my mind went to sry not sry

～～～

Victor stirs from his doze on Yuuri's shoulder, into which he promptly muffles a weak noise of pain.

He had drifted off to whatever movie Yuuri put on for them, hoping the rest would help his headache, but it only seems to have gotten worse. Between coughing fits that leave him breathless and the constant cycle of chills and overheating, this illness is really getting on his nerves.

But, he supposes it's not all bad.

A strong arm is wrapped around his back, holding him close. The warmth of Yuuri's body next to his does wonders to fend off the chill of his fever. He smiles when soft lips press against the top of his head. "Hey," Yuuri whispers, a consideration Victor's pounding head is grateful for. "Feeling any better?"

Victor answers with another noise of pain. His eyes remain closed, though his head aches too much to allow him to fall back asleep. His chest is heavy with congestion, and he feels a bit dizzy despite hardly moving, but having Yuuri here like this is enough to make the pain bearable, at least slightly.

When Yuuri's hand cards though Victor's hair, he sighs out in content and snuggles further into Yuuri's body, absorbing all of the warmth that he can. Above him, Yuuri makes a noise that sounds adoring and fond. The hand in his hair continues its magic for a few more moments, then gently trails down the side of his face until it's cupping a flushed cheek.

"Your fever seems to be rising…" Yuuri murmurs, thumb stroking his cheek. Victor hums, half in response and half in bliss. Yuuri's touch is heavenly, and Victor instinctively leans into it. He allows his eyes to flutter open. The glow from the screen hurts his eyes, even with the brightness on the lowest setting, but Yuuri's gaze is soft and Victor finds it all too easy to melt into it.

Yuuri's expression softens with sympathy when he sees Victor wince against the bright lights. "How's your head?" he asks.

The question is innocent, but under the influence of fever and pain and spoiled with affection, Victor's lips quirk upwards in a playful smile. "Well, you haven't complained so far, so I'd say pretty good."

By the look on Yuuri's face, it's obvious he doesn't get it. His face is blank, like a freshly resurfaced ice rink. He blinks. Blinks again.

Victor can only laugh. Though he quickly comes to regret that decision as laughing leads to coughing and coughing makes his chest hurt and makes his head hurt even more.

"What's so funny?" Yuuri asks, somewhere between amused and concerned, rubbing Victor's back as he struggles to catch his breath.

Once the fit is over, he sags limply against Yuuri. "You didn't get the joke…" Victor pouts.

"Oh, I did. It just... took a second is all."

Victor rubs at his temples with a shaky hand and a grimace. All joking aside, his head feels like it's about to explode, cracked open like a watermelon hit with a baseball bat.

"You're such a dork. I love you," Yuuri says, sweetly kissing Victor's forehead.

"Love you too," Victor says back, managing a smile though the pain.

"Now then," Yuuri says, slipping away from Victors embrace and getting up, "Tylenol?"

"Yes please."

[fluffyllamas-23]

There’s something...off about Victor.  Yuuri isn’t sure if it’s just exhaustion, or if it’s something else, but either way, Victor is much more sluggish than normal.

Yuuri had picked up on it immediately, but it wasn’t because he was some sort of...Victor whisperer, or anything.  It was pretty obvious that Victor was exhausted.  He had forgone his daily morning run with Makkachin, which in and of itself was a huge indicator that something was off.  Instead of hopping out of bed like he normally does, he had spent the first twenty minutes after waking lying in bed, blinking heavily at the ceiling. After much prodding on Yuuri’s part, Victor dragged himself out of bed and to the shower, where he stayed for nearly thirty minutes, until the water went cold.

When they sat in silence at breakfast, and Victor was just staring blankly down at his plate of food as he pushed his eggs around, Yuuri suggested skipping practice and going back to bed.

“Don’t be silly, Yuuri,” Victor said, shooting him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m okay, I promise.”

Yuuri really, really didn’t think he was, but shook it off, because of course Victor’s tired. He’s been working his ass off, between coaching Yuuri and trying to get in shape to compete next season, he’s been running himself into the ground.

Right now, though, Yuuri is skating backwards, keeping an eye on Victor.  Victor’s off in his own world.  He’s slumped over so much so that he’s teetering and Yuuri isn’t sure just how he’s still upright.  

Then, Victor starts to fall forward, but then he stands up straight so quickly that he falls backwards and lands on his ass with a yelp and a dull thump.  

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asks, skating over to him.  

“Why is the ice so hard, Yuuri?” Victor whines.  Yuuri helps him up, and Victor pouts, rubbing where he had fallen.

“Because it’s frozen water,” Yuuri says, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Now are you ready to go back home and sleep?”

A shiver runs down his spine, and he wraps his arms around himself. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Are you sure, Lapochka? I can drive.”

“I’ll drive,” Yuuri repeats.

*

When they get home, Yuuri realizes that their apartment is completely bare of any food, and tells Victor to go lie down while he heads out to the store.  

Victor is freezing. One of them must have left the air conditioning on, and annoyance rolls over him in waves.  

He cranks up the heat all the way, and then goes to run a bath.  

He’s so exhausted that he’s aching everywhere, and he’s sure that it’s the reason he’s felt so shitty all day.

Exhaustion always makes him feel terrible.

It isn’t until the end of his bath, when he’s trembling hard, that he realizes that something is wrong.

He gets out of the bathtub, and the moment he’s standing up, his vision darkens, and he has to drop to his hands and knees so that he doesn’t pass out.  

Then, it feels as if everything hits him like a ton of bricks - headache, sore throat, congestion, stomachache - and he’s nearly in tears because of how terrible he feels.

“Yuuri!” He croaks out. He hopes Yuuri’s home, he thinks that he heard the front door open a few minutes ago, but he feels so hazy and out of it, he isn’t sure.

“Victor? What happened?!” Yuuri cries, hurrying over to him.  

“I don’t..uh...I don’t feel very good, baby,” Victor rasps, “could you check and see if I have a fever?”

Yuuri presses a hand to Victor’s cheek, and then the back of his neck and inhales sharply.  

“Have you been sick all day?” Yuuri demands.

“I-I-I...I j-just...I d-don’t feel well,” Victor whimpers, tears springing to his eyes.

“Okay...you’re okay, just relax.  Let’s get you dried off and in bed, yeah?

Yuuri helps him up, and Victor is so weak, that he slumps into Yuuri.  

Yuuri hates how much Victor is burning.  

Ten minutes later, Victor is underneath the blankets, half asleep with the thermometer in his ear.

“Tsk. No wonder you're so tired. You're running a fever.”

Victor coughs miserably and curls into himself, “is this what death feels like?”

“You’ll be okay,” Yuuri promises. Victor breaks off into a harsh coughing fit, which makes Yuuri flinch, “on the other hand...that cough.”

“Hurts,” Victor whimpers.

“Lets see how you are in a few days,” Yuuri decides, “if it gets much worse, I'll take you to the emergency room. Just try and rest. I'm going to go get you some medicine.”

Victor shivers, tugging the blankets up over his shoulders, “can you get me another blanket before I freeze to death?”

“You're not going to freeze to death.”

“Oh, I think I might,” he says, poking his bottom lip out, “please? I'm siiiiick.”

“Victor, your fever is too high.”

“I see how it is,” he mutters, dejected.

“You can have another blanket once your fever is down.”

Victor tries to sigh dramatically, but it just sends him into a coughing fit.

He whimpers, digging his fist into the center of his chest, “okay.”

Yuuri kisses his burning temple, “get some rest. I'll be back in a couple of minutes, yeah?”

“Okay,” Victor mumbles, sleep pulling him under.

[undadasea]

"You're really soft, Yuuuuriiii." Victor whined, splaying himself across Yuuri's lap on the couch. His head was pillowed on Yuuri's thigh as he let out a small series of coughs.

"Get ooofffff!" Yuuri pushed gently at his head. "You're going to make me sick too!"

Now, Yuuri loved Victor. He loved him with everything he had. But Victor wasn't always smart. He had decided that it would be a great idea to run outside in his pjs the previous morning, and now he had a cold. And seemed to be trying to share.

"No!" Shouted Victor as he burrowed his face into Yuuri's stomach.

Yuuri sighed, "Victor, if you make me sick then we'll both lose lots of practice."

All he got in response was some mumbling into his stomach. "What was that?"

Victor pulled back a bit and attempted to glare at Yuuri. "I said that we live together and you're gonna get sick eventually anyway." He turned the other way to let out some more coughs. "Besides," He laid on his back. "You can't very well practice without your coach, now can you?" He stuck out his tongue in a childish manner. Yuuri did the same.

"Ugh, fine." He ignored Victor's small cry of "yay!". "Let me get a blanket at least."

[groundcontrol21]

Yuri on Ice ficlet (M, Victor)

Just like last year, I wrote this little drabble as a birthday present for myself wooo 🎂 Hope you guys enjoy.

“You look like shit.” Yuri sized Victor up and down as the older man came to a stop by the boards, setting down his bag and water bottle without so much as a glance in the fifteen-year-old’s direction.

“Don’t use that language in front of me, Yura!” Yakov snapped, his forehead vein pulsing. “Go do your figures like I told you!”

Once Yuri had sulked away sufficiently out of earshot, Yakov gave a grunt. “But he isn’t far off, Vitya. Your color is terrible.”

“I’m fine,” Victor said, his voice quiet and scratchy. He placed one leg atop the board to stretch out his hips. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Yakov opened his mouth to point out that anyone with eyes could see the horrendously dark circles under Victor’s eyes and deduce that for themselves, but he was cut off by a harsh sneeze from his student.

“Heh’KTSSHH’uhh!” Victor clamped a hand over his nose and Yakov, taking his cue, nudged the tissue box over to him. Victor took one and blew his nose as softly as he could, but even still Yakov could hear it.

“You’re congested.”

“I’mb--” Victor cut himself off to clear his throat. “It’s just a bit of the sniffles.”

“Your throat sounds sore.”

“It’s really nothing.” Victor closed his mouth around a cough, only half-succeeding in stifling it.

“Stupid boy.” Yakov shook his head and waved Victor over. “Come here.”

Dejected, Victor stopped his stretch and skated over. Yakov pulled off his glove and palmed Victor’s forehead, then his cheek, before taking his hand away and scoffing.

“How are you going to explain away your fever, then, hmm?” The coach shook his head again. “Victor, this is enough. Go home.”

Yuri, who by this time had had enough of his figures and had skated over, stuck out his tongue at Victor to say “I told you so” and told himself he wasn’t worried that Victor offered him nothing in retaliation. The older skater merely collected his belongings and skated away silently, save for his blocked-up sniffles and the sounds of his skates on the ice.

[groundcontrol21]

On Video

I wrote this little drabble as a birthday present for myself 🎂 it’s very short and I really didn’t have the time to write it, but I did it anyway.

Yuuri waits patiently for the FaceTime video to connect; he’s on hotel wifi after all. He clears his throat a bit, on the tail end of a headcold and still a bit hoarse from it, although feeling fine and, for all intents and purposes, healed. Even so, he doesn’t want to greet Victor with a croak.

But the unconventional greetings seem to be up to Victor. No sooner does the FaceTime finally connect, showing a mop of messy silver hair and a Team Russia hoodie, than does Victor dip forward so violently toward the screen that Yuuri flinches.

“Heh-ISSHHUHH! Hihh’ISHHHHUHH!”

The second sneeze causes Victor to drop the phone momentarily, sending Yuuri into a spiraling black mess. Victor rights the phone quickly, allowing Yuuri to see his poor, pink, chapped nose twitch with viciously clogged sniffles.

Yuuri’s heart sinks. “I gave you my cold, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, I think so, lapochka,” Victor hums congestedly, holding the phone in one hand as he brings a crumpled handful of tissues to his nose with the other and gives an audibly liquid blow.

“Oh Vitya, I’m so sorry. You sound miserable.” Yuuri had done his best to keep his germs to himself: washing his hands, wearing a mask. And poor Victor had seemed fine when Yuuri had left the day before for his sponsorship interview….

Victor shakes his head and says cheerily, far too cheerily for someone who came down with the same wretched cold as Yuuri had. “You gave me something to remember you by! A gift for me while you’re away.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. Leave it to his ridiculous, ridiculous husband to find a way to turn a head cold into something romantic. “Some gift,” he says.

“I think of you with every sniffle.”

******

Later on, after they’ve hung up and Yuuri’s given his sponsorship interview, Victor does a live Instagram video of him and Makkachin and a mound of tissues cuddled up in bed, and Yuuri’s heart does a flip when he realizes that this man, this lovable dork, is his forever and ever.

[groundcontrol21]

it’s competition day for Yuuri and his coach isn’t feeling too well... but the show must go on right?

[groundcontrol21]

surprise! MORE sick yoi art because why not spend my free time on this lol

[groundcontrol21]

Ice Adolescence better be this long delayed bc they’re busy making Victor so sick at a Grand Prix Final and ensuring his fever flush is perfectly splayed across his cheeks