I would love, love, love to see some... Diarrhea. Either Yuri or Victor is fine! Imagine them being stuck in the bathroom, groaning and moaning until the other comes to see what's wrong, and their belly is so upset they puke instead of answering.
well, this is awful, but at least it’s done? anyway, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3
WARNING: descriptions of vomit and diarrhea below!
read the warning!
read the warning!
read the warning!
okay, you’ve been warned! please enjoy the fic!
It had been a very pleasant day for Yuuri and Victor - a much needed rest day for both of them, spent mostly in the comfort of their own home. They’d made a nice breakfast together, gone on a walk, and were spending the evening lounging in their apartment. Viktor had dozed off in the middle of reading a novel about an hour ago, and Yuuri was listening to music through his headphones so as not to disturb the older man. If Viktor was falling asleep while reading, Yuuri knew that it meant he really needed the rest.
By the time Viktor woke up, Yuuri was too focused on the music to take much note of it. Viktor was glad for this, at first, as it allowed him to sneak past his fiancé without causing alarm. When he’d woken up, his stomach had been hurting so badly that he could hardly walk, and on the way to the bathroom, an embarrassingly loud fart had slipped out.
It wasn’t until he reached the toilet and pulled down his soiled pants that Viktor realized it wasn’t just a fart.
Another cramp twisted his stomach, and Viktor moaned as a torrent of diarrhea spurted into the toilet water below. Tears pricked his eyes as his stomach continued to tighten painfully to expel more liquified shit and gas. Viktor groaned and he heard Makkachin whimper in response on the other side of the door. When he heard the sound of his dog walking away, a sob escaped him - he knew it was silly, but Viktor felt like he was being abandoned, and he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone while he was feeling so bad.
He didn’t even notice that she’d approached again until he was startled by Yuuri knocking on the bathroom door. Viktor tried to swallow back any audible signs of pain, but he was beginning to feel nauseous and another moan slipped out.
“Viktor,” Yuuri called. “What’s wrong, love? Are you alright?”
Instead of the a-okay response Viktor intended to give, a cavernous belch tore from his open moth, bringing up a rush of vomit at the end. It was so bad that by the time he could breathe again, Viktor was seeing stars.
“Yuuri,” Viktor gasped, wanting nothing more than a hug, or even just a head pat.
Soon enough, he received both of those things. As soon as Yuuri was by his side, Viktor was being sick again, but Yuuri didn’t falter. Instead, he placed a hand to Viktor’s forehead, murmured something about a fever, and then proceeded to shower Viktor with love and reassurances through another five rounds of puking.
“I’m sorry,” Viktor said through chattering teeth as Yuuri helped him out of his ruined clothes.
“Vitya,” Yuuri said, disapprovingly. “You know I don’t mind.”
Viktor sucked in a breath as a cramp struck him suddenly, causing a thin stream of brown liquid to squirt from his rear. Yuuri offered him a plastic bowl, and Viktor almost refused it, but a retch made him think twice. In the end, Yuuri held it for him as he threw up twice more in quick succession. A shuddering sigh escaped him as Yuuri wiped his face, and then ran his hands through Viktor’s hair.
“We’re in this together, love, so let me take care of you, alright?”
Email your professor you won't be in class tomorrow, says the sticky note on Yuuri’s phone, right under Take your meds.
“No,” he grunts to himself. He takes the paper off, turns off the medication reminder alarm, and rolls onto his other side.
YES, says another post-it note, this time shaped like a speech bubble, stuck to the stickman painting Viktor insisted they hang on their wall. At first, Yuuri found the idea ridiculous – the painting was a joke, a prank, why would Viktor ever want something like this in their bedroom when Yuuri could paint him whatever he wished for?
Well, here is his answer. Even when Viktor is at work, he still finds ways to talk at him. On most days, it's very appreciated. Yuuri loves waking up to notes saying Good morning! or Have a nice day! or even It's your turn to buy bread J seemingly coming right from the enormous red heart-mouth of the stick figure.
(One time Viktor wrote him a pun-question on a post-it note stuck to the painting and Yuuri only found another piece of paper with the answer to it three hours later when he opened his lunch. The photo of him laughing with his head lying on the buffet table, exasperated beyond measure, remains one of Phichit’s most popular Instagram photos, simply captioned “when bae makes you snort tea all over the place #thatslove #thatpunwasnteventhatfunny”)
Today, though, Yuuri wishes the notes weren't an option.
“I feel fine,” he grumbles. “I'm still going to the class tomorrow.”
He glares at the painting, daring the YES to turn into NO, or the stick figure!Viktor to tilt his head and give him the that was not a suggestion smile. Nothing like that happens, so he only grunts and turns back to his phone, feeling as victorious as a human being can be when drenched in sweat and having a 39°C fever.
He swallows the antibiotics Viktor left on the bedside table for him and ignores the fruit bowl with a churn in his stomach. It's 4PM already and he hasn't eaten anything since he tried a slice of bread this morning, only to make an emergency use of the bucket Viktor set by the bed for him. He downs the bottle of water and falls back on the pillows, a groan punched out of him at the impact. His head explodes with hot ache, so he curls on his side again and presses his temple against his pillow.
He hates being sick.
...not that he's sick enough to miss class.
When he wakes up, the room is dark but for the swath of light on the living room floor flowing from the bathroom. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, and when he hears the sound of retching, he jerks on the bed and grabs at the empty bucket. It takes him a minute leaning over the edge of the bed to realise he's not the one vomiting.
“Makkachin?” he calls, cringing at how weak his voice is - he barely hears himself.
It's enough for Makka, though – she whines in reply and appears in the bathroom light, looking at Yuuri, only to go back to the other room.
If it's not Makkachin who's being sick—
“Viktor,” Yuuri breathes, weakness and discomfort forgotten. His bones ache when he carefully sits up, the world shifting dangerously before settling into an order that's much better known for him.
In the bathroom, Viktor throws up again, the sound followed by another whine—not Makkachin’s this time.
“Viktor?” Yuuri exits the bedroom and manages the distance between the door to the bathroom in several steps.
Viktor is kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, gripping the edges of it like his life depends on never letting go. His left arm is still stuck in the sleeve of his brown coat and his scarf has fallen off his neck and onto the floor.
“Oh, Viktor…”
Viktor shakes his head, body trembling with the exertion. “Don't come near,” he says and grimaces right after at the foul taste in his mouth. He dry heaves for a second and Yuuri can't help but look away. Nothing more lands in the toilet, though. Still, the sight and smell alone work just fine to trigger Yuuri’s own sickness.
“Will you be okay?” Yuuri asks, eyes clenched and nose consciously blocked.
For a moment, his question is only met with silence. He makes sure that his nausea is in check and opens one eye, just when Viktor flushes the toilet.
“Teeth,” Viktor mumbles only, lips snapping together when the word is out.
With the mess no longer there, Yuuri reaches him as fast as he can while trying not to get too dizzy and helps him to the sink. “Will you be okay by yourself?” he asks, handing Viktor his toothbrush and the toothpaste despite his question. Only when the man nods does he let go. “I'll make you some camomile tea. It’ll make your stomach less upset.”
Viktor nods again, and so Yuuri leaves Makkachin to watch over him.
Viktor is already in bed, still dressed in his work clothes, with Makkachin resting at his feet, when Yuuri walks in with two cups and a thermos full of camomile tea. With shaking hands, he pours each of them half a cup and leaves them on the bedside table to cool. There’s enough tea in the thermos for one or two cups more so he stores it next to the bed for later.
Viktor’s lying on his side, facing the painting. Yuuri winces inwardly as he follows his eyes, right to the post-it note still stuck to stickman!Viktor’s mouth. He should have taken it off.
“Did you send the email?” Viktor asks, his weak voice muffled a little by his pillow.
I already told you I won’t do it, thinks one part in Yuuri. He’s stubborn, he knows, but he also knows that he can take one class tomorrow—despite how weak he gets when he stands for too long.
Viktor makes a small sound in the back of his throat and tiredly closes his eyes. “I thought so.”
“Nevermind me,” Yuuri says and sits down by Viktor’s side. As much as he knows that moving is the last thing Viktor wants to do right now – and he knows – Viktor should really take off his clothes. “Let’s get you changed into your PJs.”
Viktor’s forehead creases at the thought alone. “Yuuri…”
Yuuri smiles softly and tsks. “That was not a suggestion, love.”
“Yes, I’ll tell him. Thank you again,” Yuuri says to the phone. When he hangs up, he’s met with a weak, yet wide smile on Viktor’s face. “What?”
“I can’t believe you just called Yakov to tell him I won’t be in school tomorrow.” After a small chuckle, Viktor’s smile gets even broader. “You’re like—Mama Yuuri calling the headmaster. Which you actually did. Because I’m sick.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes and smiles, too. “He told you to get some rest,” he says and half-heartedly ruffles Viktor’s hair. “So rest.”
They’ve just managed to doze off, only to be shaken awake by the sound of the doorbell.
Yuuri opens his eyes and winces. “Oh no—” he manages, right before Makkachin shoots her head up and barks.
Barking is not good. Barking is hell when his head is already pounding.
Viktor seems to agree with him on that, if his prolonged groan is anything to go by. “Who and why?”
Yuuri rubs at his eyes and reaches out to pet Makkachin to make her calm down—but she’s already off the bed and in the hallway, probably sitting by the door. He sighs falls back on his pillow. “Must be the food delivery.”
“You ordered food?”
“Just chicken soup and some light sandwiches. We need to eat something.” He moves to sit up just as the doorbell rings again. He’s stopped by a hand on his chest.
“I’ll go,” Viktor says and gets up. “You rest.”
He’s as wobbly on his feet as Yuuri feels whenever he walks.
One minute later, Makkachin stops barking and the apartment is filled with silence once more.
The food sits still in their stomachs for now, a fact both of them are glad about as they lie on their bed facing each other. Makkachin is snuggled between them, her body heat too much and not enough at the same time. They won’t make her move away, though, and neither will she do it on her own accord, not if it means putting a stop to the pets she’s getting from both of them – their fingers are intertwined on her head as they scratch behind her ear.
The room is flooded with soft, dimmed light coming from one of their bedside lamps.
“I don’t want to go to my class tomorrow,” Yuuri admits in a whisper, like it’s something to be ashamed of. To him, it is. It only proves that, yes, he is weak if all it takes to get him down is a slight fever.
Viktor hums, the sound breaking just after a second with a grimace on his face. It’ll take a moment for the painkillers to start working. “Good,” he says quietly. “I already emailed your professor for you.”
Yuuri frowns and lifts his head off his pillow—and promptly regrets doing that. “When?”
“When you were talking to Yakov.” Viktor gives him a small smile. “That’s nice… Cancelling each other’s classes.” His eyes blink tiredly until they fall shut. “Shame it’s ‘cause we’re sick.”
Yuuri breathes softly and gently squeezes Viktor’s fingers.
Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t go to the class. He probably couldn’t focus for longer than eight minutes. At home, though, with Viktor and Makkachin… Even feverish and with a skewed balance, he can still take care of them both.
“We’ll take care of each other,” Viktor murmurs on the verge of sleep, like he can hear Yuuri’s every thought.
Maybe he does, Yuuri thinks and closes his eyes, ready for some much-needed rest. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could.
In the morning, Yuuri wakes up to a sleeping Viktor and a new post-it note on the painting, one with three words only:
a little room to breathe by qynntessence | T | Yuuri/Victor | 9k WIP
Viktor blows his nose wetly and blushes, turning away from Yuuri’s kind eyes. “Can-Can I have another tissue?” He blows his nose again, a thick, congested sound, which turns into thick, congested sneezing. “I’m sorry, I know it can't be much fun to take care of your sick fiancé when you have a cold. Asthma sucks.”
In which Yuuri has a cold (and also anxiety), Viktor has the flu (and also asthma), and they're messy and in love and try their best.
Breathing is Easier With You by mypoorfaves | G | Yuuri/Victor | 5k
Victor comes down with the flu and is a fevered and miserable mess. Yuuri takes care of him until he gets better.
Easy Now with My Heart by braveten | T | Yuuri/Victor | 12k WIP
“Fast, Yuuri. Pow pow.”
“Pow pow?”
He giggles—Victor Nikiforov, figure skating champion, Olympic athlete, Yuuri’s idol, who is currently sick and delusional, giggles—and puts his hand on Yuuri's chest, pillowing his head there, too. “Pow pow,” he repeats as he feels his heartbeat. “Pow pow, pow pow. Fast, see?”
Oh.
It’s Okay to Not be Okay by mypoorfaves | G | Yuuri/Victor | 1k
Victor is sick with a cold and is sick of Yuuri acting like he's on his deathbed. He snaps, and the two have a bit of a fight, but they work it out because they love and understand each other and I cannot get enough of their love ♡
Light Sensitivty by Arisprite | G | <1k
The headaches didn't happen often, but when they did, Victor usually skipped practice and laid on the floor with Makkachin until they went away. This time, it was happening on the day of the Free Skate, in the World Championships.
Safe & Secure by glim | G | Yuuri/Victor | 1k
He hates this, though; he hates being sick and how being sick reminds him of cold hotel rooms after long flights and mornings spent in colder airports.
Snowglobe by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox) | T | Yuuri/Victor | 3k
So skinny dipping in a rooftop pool in the middle of a Russian winter may not have been the best idea.
Or.
Wherein Viktor is sick with a cold and Yuuri spends the day caring for him.
Under the Weather by ProcrastinatingPalindrome | G | Yuuri/Victor | 1k
Victor spends his 28th birthday in bed with the flu while Yuuri fusses over him. Somehow, he doesn't seem too upset about this.
Unwell by Sitrus | G | Yuuri/Victor | 1k
Viktor isn't feeling very good. He denies it. Until he can't.
You Know I Don’t Get Sick by lowercase | G | Yuuri/Victor | <1k
"Don't be ridiculous. You know I don't get sick."
Yeah right. He can say that, but he's not doing a very good job of selling it.
okaaaay so if you feel like it: i would love a yoi sickfic with yuuri as caretaker! just go all out and make viktor as sick as you can! preferably without sending him to the hospital, though if the fic demands that it happens, no worries! a fic's gotta go where a fic's gotta go XD (also i'm not great at prompts so sorry if this is not detailed/specific enough >.<)
Hey!!! Sorry this fic makes no sense towards the end and isn’t that good but I hope you like it my friend!!!!!!
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Yuuri came to a stop as he scanned the skating rink, he could’ve sworn that Viktor had sent him a text saying to meet on the ice ten minutes ago. Where was he? Yuuri sighed as he slowly skated towards the edge of the funk and he slowly stepped off the ice before he pulled on his skate guards,
“Viktor?” Yuuri called out and silently waited for a response but he didn’t hear anything, he moved his hand and felt for his phone before he turned it on and the bright screen blinded him, the only notifications he had were from his best friend who was currently prepping for a competition in another country. Yuuri tapped his hand against his thigh before he stood up and made his way into the dressing room, where in the world could Viktor be? He wondered to himself as he sat down on a bleacher in the room and began to remove his skates to go on a search for his coach. He paused as he heard the sound of retching coming from the locker room bathroom, and he snapped his head towards the door before he slowly stood up and made his way to the door. He did a small knock before he slowly entered the bathroom,
“Viktor?” Yuuri called out softly and watched as a man emerged from one of the stalls, his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead and the back of his shirt was dampened with even more sweat,
“Ah, Yuuri..” The Russian man said and gave a weak smile,”Why didn’t you tell me..you were here?” Viktor slowly made out and Yuuri blinked trying to pull together his thoughts, what was he suppose to say to Viktor?!
“I called for you, but—“
“Where are..Your skates?” The older man asked and Yuuri froze, surprised to be cut off,
“I mean—Viktor, those are..My skates you’re trying to wear..” he whispers and looks around the room,
“Nonsense, Yuuri, get your skates-“
“Viktor! Those are mine, they don’t even fit you come on please set them down..We should go home, and I should get your fever taken and you need rest and Viktor, come on stop staring at the wall..!” Yuuri took a deep breath and stared at the older man before he made his way and gently grabbed Viktor’s hands,”You’re warm, Viktor please..”
“Only because you’re sick,” Viktor said and stumbles into Yuuri and the smaller man caught him and gently held onto him,
“I’m not sick, Viktor..” Yuuri let out a defeated sigh as he helped Viktor towards the door. Once outside Yuuri glanced at viktor and watched as his breathing slowed and he seemed to be having a struggle, the cool air rushed past them and Yuuri groaned, he knew that this would be a long walk home.
About half way there Yuuri felt viktor tugging away from him,
“What’re you doing-“ Viktor asked, a slight tinge of being annoyed could easily be heard in his voice, and as Viktor teamed up Yuuri immediately felt horrible.
“No, Viktor, I’m sorry..” Yuuri whispered,
“What do you mean..?” The older man asked,”I’m not..”
_______________
“Viktor..?!” Yuuri cried out before he blinked rapidly,
“Yuuri! Thank god you’re awake,” Viktor sighed before moving and grabbing a cloth out of a bowl and gently placed it on Yuuri’s forehead after wringing it out,”You were having a nightmare,”
“But you were..the sick one..” Yuuri whispered,
“That was a fever dream..” Viktor reassured softly,
“Oh..” Yuuri whispered before relaxing on the bed,”I’m sorry,”
“No,no, it’s not your fault you’re sick,” Viktor said softly,”Get some more rest, I’ll be here when you wake up..”
“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered before letting his eyes fall closed.
I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE! Please don’t kill me- haha. Okay, requested by @shipping-it-like-fedex for a sick Vik not wanting Yuuri to know he was sick because of his past experiences. I mention (what I believe) how Viktor’s childhood kind of went down considering we don’t know that much about him… so yeah. Hope it’s okay. Hope to post a few more fics by the end of the week… like I seriously need to work on my Voltron sick Keith. Okay. Later brobros!
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The first time he’d been sick during a competition, he was 9. Afterwards, through a fevered haze and river of tears, he remembered his parents yelling because he had lost despite still proceeding to the nationals. The last time he’d been sick, he had wound up in the hospital after passing out in the hotel lobby while giving an interview about his latest win. He didn’t remember much, except the awful headache that followed as he pried his eyes open to the harsh lights and loud monitors in the hospital room. He remembered being confused, and like most teenagers, scared, questioning the location of his parents.
His parents hadn’t been there, not because they hadn’t cared, but because they had cared about the wrong thing. He remembered turning on the television a day later to see his father giving an interview about Viktor’s latest win at Nationals, and watching his mother give a tearful speech about the state of health her only son was in. Not that he really remembered much but according to the nurse, Viktor’s parents hadn’t been to see him once. This really wasn’t surprising to him, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. And it hadn’t been until Yakov had driven to the hospital to take him home, that Viktor finally understood and broke down, crying.
Since then, Viktor had been pretty good about staying healthy, overlooking illnesses, and knowing his limits. But now, despite the 3 aspirin he’d swallowed an hour ago, Viktor was finding it hard to stay focused. He brought his hand to his mouth, coughing harshly, wincing as the cold air from the rink touched his raw throat. He didn’t really want to be here, but since it involved Yuuri, Viktor would do anything he could to ensure his fiancé’s happiness. He felt pride swell in his chest as he watched his boyfriend skate to the center of the ice, and waved cheerfully as Yuuri glanced in his direction. He leaned against the rail heavily, fighting the urge to drop his head against the cold metal, and squinted towards Yuuri’s direction. His head was killing him.
“He doesn’t know you’re sick, eh geezer?” Someone said softly. Viktor turned to see Yurio standing next to him, his hair pulled back in a tight braid, and a big hoodie swallowing his tiny frame. Viktor stood up straighter, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not sick,” he said roughly. God even his voice was hoarse.
Yurio snorted, turning to give Viktor a questionable look, “Yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself, Vitya. Look, I’ve known you a lot longer than that pig, so he might not be able to tell when you’re ill, but I can… also, Yakov told me.” Yurio said, pointing behind him. Viktor turned to see Yakov talking to some reporters, his eyes fixed on Viktor. Viktor coughed softly, and turned back around to watch Yuuri. He should have known Yakov would know something was off, he always did. Yakov was always good at knowing that kind of thing, which made lying to him difficult because he could read Viktor like a book- it probably didn’t help that Viktor had lived with him and Lilia for a few months either, so Yakov knew more about Viktor than most people. Viktor felt something jab him in the ribs, and turned back to face the Russian punk, an eyebrow raised. Yurio pulled the ponytail from his hair, running his hand through the tight braids, “I’m camping in Ota’s room tonight. No telling what germs old people carry. Da?”
Viktor smirked slightly before nodding. Yurio sighed loudly, turning to leave, “You won’t be able to hide it for long Viktor. Besides Yuuri isn’t anything like your parents… that would be creepy.” The teenager thrust his hands in his pockets, and bumped Viktor’s shoulder gently, before walking back over to Yakov. Viktor swallowed and turned back towards the ice. He closed his eyes as the room began to spin and waited for the music to start. He knew Yurio was right, he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long. He shuddered as his mother’s face flashed across his mind.
………………………………………………………………………………….
She was standing over him, yelling at him while he clutched at the blisters on his left foot. Blood had begun to soak through his sock, and he yanked it off to reveal the cuts and bruises littering his heel. He remembered crying, begging his mother for a break, watching the other 5-year-olds pushing each other on the ice playfully. He just wanted to be like them…
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Viktor cleared his throat as he opened his eyes. The music had begun to play and he watched as Yuuri danced gracefully over the ice. He smiled brightly. God, he loved that pork cutlet bowl, more than anything in the world. He swallowed loudly, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. He leaned further against the rail, waiting for it to pass. He started feeling ill when they woke up yesterday, but it wasn’t until this morning that Viktor realized that choking down a few extra vitamins weren’t going to help him.
He breathed shallowly, listening to the music, hoping for a distraction. He ran his hand through his hair again and cleared his throat. His vision wavered again and Viktor wondered how much aspirin he’d be able to consume within the next 10 minutes without dying. He coughed again, and turned to look at Yakov once more. Yakov had finished his interview and instead stood in front of Yurio, his hands waving madly. A small smile crossed over Viktor’s face- Yurio was most likely in trouble, like always.
The crowd cheered and Viktor thrust his attention back towards Yuuri. Yuuri had nailed one of his jumps. Viktor’s smile grew even bigger and he waved again as Yuuri glanced towards him.
……………………………………………………………………………
Once Yuuri’s feet touched the carpet, Viktor knew he needed to leave. Yuuri’s performance had been phenomenal, and if Viktor wasn’t currently fighting a losing battle with his stomach, he would have run onto the ice to shower his fiancé in praise and kisses. Now however, Viktor was finding it hard to see straight; his head was pounding viciously and the lights from the arena felt like tiny daggers digging into his skull every time one flashed in his direction. He grabbed their bags off the floor harshly, and headed towards the locker room hearing Yuuri calling after him. Viktor closed his eyes for a second as a wave of dizziness washed over him, and put his hand to his head, trying to rub his headache away. He leaned against the wall, wincing as Yuuri’s scores were called over the loud speaker. A smile broke out over his face, Yuuri was in 2nd place so far.
“Viktor! Viktor, did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?” Yuuri said softly, grabbing a hold of Viktor’s wrist. Viktor felt his blood run cold as he opened his eyes and looked down at the tears gathering in Yuuri’s eyes. He wiped them away softly with tip of his thumb, biting his lip, feeling another wave of nausea wash over him. He swallowed thickly, and shook his head. He tried to smile, honestly, he did, but his headache was getting worse, making everything blurry and bright. He glanced up at the harsh lights above them, wincing as the next skater was announced over the intercom. He really needed to leave. He felt a gentle tug on his sleeve and looked down once more to see Yuuri staring at him, worry painted across his face. Great, Viktor was making him panic. He felt guilty.
“Y-you were amazing love,” he said gently. His voice wavered and Viktor swallowed again because it was all that he could manage right now. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be around paparazzi and people with camera phones, the idea of causing another big scene so soon after Yurio’s “vomit fest,” made chills run down Viktor’s spine… or maybe that was the fever, he wasn’t really sure. He really didn’t want to be here… especially with Yuuri. He didn’t want Yuuri to know he was sick but he had a feeling that ship was about to sail.
He pulled his hand out of Yuuri’s grasp and stifled a cough. He felt the bags drop from his shoulder. It really didn’t matter if he was sick now, because, considering Viktor shared a room and a bed with Yuuri, his pork cutlet would find out eventually. Like Yurio said, Viktor couldn’t hide it forever, no matter how much he wanted too. Yuuri’s nothing like your parents Vitya…
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Viktor stifled a cough behind his hand and took a shallow breath. He could hear his parent’s cheering from the sidelines and he bit back a wince. He could feel blood beginning to seep through his right sock from the rigorous practice he’d had every single day leading up to this competition. He didn’t really mind it, but since his parents were strict, this made certain situations 10x worse.
He closed his eyes and waited for the music to begin, wiping some sweat that had begun to form on his forehead. He felt like shit, and the blood from one of the blisters on his foot, wasn’t helping. He coughed again, feeling a wave of nausea course through him and he swallowed loudly. There was no way in hell he was going to tell his parents he was sick, just like there was no way in hell he was going to mention that he spent the whole night in the bathroom, puking up, what had to be, everything that he’d eaten in last few days.
The last time he’d told them he was sick, they’d forced him to choke down like 8 Tylenol and then drove him to practice. It wasn’t until he practically fainted on the ice, that Yakov sent him home stating that if he didn’t feel well, he shouldn’t be practicing. His parents weren’t abusive, just harsh. They hated it when he got sick, not because he was ill, but because he couldn’t preform or do his best- because he couldn’t win.
He sneezed loudly and opened his eyes to a spinning arena. He blinked a few times, blocking out the praises coming from his mother, and looked over at Yakov. He snorted as he watched Yakov stand next to his parents, motionless, a scowl present on his face. He turned back towards the lights, feeling his body begin to shake. This wasn’t good. He had an interview in the hotel lobby after this about next season, and he wasn’t even sure if he could make it through his competition. He sighed loudly as the music started.
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“Viktor? Are you okay?” Yuuri asked softy. Viktor blinked a few times as Yuuri’s face came back into focus. He had zoned out, that tended to happen when he was feverish. He nodded slowly as his stomach flipped, and he gulped loudly. He took a shallow breath, realizing his breakfast was going to make a reappearance very soon. Viktor looked around the hallway, spotting the locker room a few feet ahead, and pushed past Yuuri.
He made it about 10 feet before his legs gave out and he slammed against the wall, hard. He heard Yuuri yelp, and felt a strong hand wrap around his torso and shoulder, pulling him up. The room did a full 180 and Viktor clenched his eyes shut. He felt his feet moving but he wasn’t really sure where he was being directed, but he hoped it was somewhere with a bathroom. He groaned loudly as his stomach lurched and he swallowed compulsively. “It’s okay Vitya. Hang in there a little bit longer,” he heard Yuuri say softy. He felt the grip around his torso tighten and assumed Yuuri was to one holding him up.
His stomach lurched again and Viktor forced his eyes open. The locker room swirled in a multitude of colors and it took everything Viktor had to keep his eyes open. His breathing quickened slightly, and he felt a warmth wash over him as Yuuri opened one of the stall door towards the end. Viktor pushed away from Yuuri dizzily and smacked against the tiled floor, choking up the acidic bile and predigested food. He coughed harshly, sucking in a sharp breath as he hung his head over the toilet weakly. It took him a second before he realized Yuuri’s hand was on his back, and he glanced to his left slightly to see his fiancé sitting next to him, concern etching across his face.
Viktor’s stomach heaved again and he thrust his head back towards the ceramic basin, lurching violently. He didn’t want Yuuri to be here. He didn’t want Yuuri to yell at him, or to be mad… like his parents always did/ were. He wasn’t really sure if he could take that right now.
He exhaled shakily, hearing Yuuri saying something but he was too tired to listen. He scooted back against the wall and struggled to pull his arm from his jacket. He felt Yuuri grab his arm gently and tug his jacket off before hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. Viktor groaned again, leaning his head against the wall weakly. He wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep… and for the room to stop spinning. He felt sweat drip down his face and tried to move his hand to wipe it from his cheeks, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick!” Yuuri said softly, wiping some of the sweat from Viktor’s forehead gently with his jacket sleeve. He felt guilt wash over him. He was Viktor’s fiancé, he should have known. Yuuri pressed his lips gently against Viktor’s forehead, letting out a small gasp as he felt the heat burning against his lips. Viktor looked up dazedly, seeing the tears welling in Yuuri’s eyes again, and swallowed the lump in his throat. Yuuri looked hurt. Viktor bit his bottom lip as his father’s voice echoed through his mind and his mother’s disappointed gaze was cast upon him. If you can’t skate or interview with a small fever and a stomachache, then you shouldn’t be a skater Vitya!
Viktor felt tears streaming down his face as he let out a half-choked sob, pulling his knees towards him, trying to hug his body. He cast his gaze towards Yuuri’s feet, not wanting to look his fiancé in the eye, not wanting to see the disappointment. He coughed again as he sucked in a ragged breath.
“I-I’m sorry Yuuri! Please don’t be mad,” Viktor sobbed harshly. He clutched his knees to his chest as he continued to cry. He glanced up at Yuuri to see a panicked look painted across his face, and Viktor swallowed loudly. He felt snot dripping from his nose as tears streamed down his face and he choked back another sob, “Please Yuuri. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
Yuuri stared at Viktor, panicked worry coursing through his veins. He bit his lip, pulling some tissues from the box in Viktor’s bag, and tried his best to wipe the tears that ran down his fiancé’s face. He had never seen Viktor like this. Yuuri felt his breathing hitch slightly.
“Vik- Vitya, baby, I’m not mad. I would never be mad over something you couldn’t control. Oh god, Viktor honey, please stop crying, please calm down,” Yuuri felt his throat tighten and he sucked in a shaky breath. He needed to calm down, he needed to breath, he was on the verge of having a panic attack, and something told him that that wouldn’t help Viktor’s current situation. He grasped one of Viktor’s hands in his, more for his benefit than Viktor’s because he needed to feel something right now, something to keep him from panicking. It was different when Yurio was sick because Yuuri had Viktor to rely on. But now, well Yuuri hardly doubted the smaller Russian would be able to help him; besides, Viktor was his fiancé so Yuuri needed to figure this out on his own.
Yuuri rummaged in his bag, grabbing his water bottle, unscrewing the cap and shaking it gently in front of Viktor. Viktor shook his head, pushing it away from him, tears still streaming down his pale face. Yuuri bit his lip, “Viktor, honey, I k-know you think I’m mad, but I promise you, I’m not. I’m so sorry but I-I really need you to calm down, otherwise I’m going to h-have a panic attack, and that won’t help either of us right now.”
Viktor looked at Yuuri, and Yuuri felt his heart snap into a million pieces. Viktor’s eyebrows scrunched together, confusion masking over his face as he stared at Yuuri. Tears were water falling down his face, and Yuuri sucked in another harsh breath. Viktor looked so lost and innocent, and it hurt to see him like this. Yuuri coughed and bit his lip as understanding washed over Viktor’s features. He nodded softly, wiping away some of the tears and snot spilling down his face.
Viktor let out a harsh cough, groaning softly. He felt another wave of dizziness wash over him as Yuuri shook the water once more in front of his face. He was tired, and hot. The jacket that he’d stripped from his body haphazardly hadn’t helped lessen the heat that flowed through his body. He grabbed the water, raising to his mouth shakily and took several sloppy drinks before handing it back to Yuuri.
He felt his stomach flip as bile rushed up his throat and Viktor thrust his head over the toilet, puking up the small amount of water he had just consumed and what little stomach acid he had left. He groaned loudly as he felt Yuuri’s hand on his back, and turned weakly to see a double image of his fiancé. “I-I need to lie d-down,” he whispered softly, wincing as the words raked against his already raw throat. He moved slowly, resting his head in Yuuri’s lap, curling his long legs to his chest as the room continued to spin.
“I-I don’t feel well Yuuri,” Viktor choked out, closing his eyes. Yuuri sighed loudly, pressing his hand against Viktor’s forehead again. Viktor was burning up, and despite caring for a sick Yurio several times before, Yuuri had no idea how to care for a sick Viktor. Yuuri let out another shaky breath, “I know honey, and I’m really sorry. How about I call a cab, and help you off this dirty floor. We’ll go back to the hotel and you can go to sleep. I think we still have some left-over flu medicine from when Yurio got sick a few weeks ago… I saw it in one of the bags yesterday. I guess I forgot to take it out. Does that sound okay?”
Viktor nodded weakly. He let out another sigh, listening to Yuuri talking to someone on the phone, who Viktor could only assume through his fevered haze, was the cabbie. He felt Yuuri shift his legs under his head and whimpered loudly, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry Viktor,” Yuuri said quickly, stiffening, not wanting to cause his fiancé anymore unnecessary discomfort. He ran his hand over Viktor’s sweaty back, listening to the cheers and claps coming from the crowd outside. He gripped his phone tightly in his hand waiting for the cabbie to call, and wondered slightly, if Viktor couldn’t stand on his own, how he was going to help him to the car, considering the Russian was noticeably taller than him.
Yuuri shook this thought away as he wiped some tears that continued to fall from Viktor’s eyes. Viktor opened his eyes slowly, gazing up at Yuuri; his blue eyes clouded with fevered exhaustion. Yuuri bent down and kissed the side of Viktor’s temple gently, smiling slightly as he heard Viktor sigh. “Vitya, can I ask you a question?” He asked softly, running his fingers through the loose sweaty strands of Viktor’s silver hair. He felt the Russian skater nodded slightly, choking out a soft, “Da.”
Yuuri took a breath, “Why would you ever think I was mad?”
Viktor cringed, new tears pricking at his eyes now, and despite the dizziness that still enveloped him, he pushed himself off the floor and away from Yuuri weakly, pressing his overheated back against the tiled wall. He swallowed quickly as his stomach tried to readjust to the sudden movement and smack his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes again. He crossed his arms over his stomach lazily and flinched as he felt something cool touch his forehead. It took him a few fevered minutes to realize that Yuuri was pressing a wet paper towel to his forehead. Yuuri must have gotten up at some point, or maybe Viktor was taking longer to respond that he thought- he always seemed to lose track of time when he was sick. He opened his eyes after the dizziness passed, and shivered slightly, “M-my parents, when I got sick at competitions, they were always mad. Force of habit, I guess… I-ugh- c-can I have some more water please.”
Yuuri nodded softly, grabbing his bottle again and unscrewing the cap. He held it against Viktor’s mouth, allowing him to take several small sips before setting it back down on the ground next to him. He folded the paper towel he was holding and pressed it gently against Viktor’s cheeks, then forehead. Yuuri bit his bottom lip. “What happened to your parents Vitya?” He asked softly. The Russian skater very seldom talked about his parents, or his family for that matter. Every now and then, Viktor would tell Yuuri about something that happened in his childhood, or he would catch Viktor discussing his family with Yurio after one of his nightmares about his grandfather, to get him to calm down.
Viktor shook his head gently before laughing quietly, “Nothing. The last I heard they moved to Berlin. My sister was accepted to an academy there, and they couldn’t bear the thought of losing their only child.”
“What do you mean their only child? Viktor, you’re their son… right?” Yuuri winced as the last word left his mouth. He felt tears welling in his eyes, spilling over their tired rims as Viktor looked up, a soft sad smile plastered to his face. Viktor had silent tears glistening against his cheeks again, and Yuuri ran a hand through his hair shakily, dreading the answer.
“My parents were thrilled to have a son who could accomplish so much at such a young age. They loved watching me skate, and pushed me harder than anyone I’ve ever met because they wanted me to achieve greatness. This… this wasn’t always a good thing… being pushed so hard, I mean. I was sick constantly, and my parents dealt with it just as Yurio would, by forcing me to power through it- one of the reasons I still do it today, I guess,” Viktor paused for a second, coughing harshly, “I’m not saying I don’t appreciate them doing that but I’ve ended up in the hospital several times, and lectured by Yakov for skating when I had a high fever, sprain ankle, or something, some major illness or injury that put me out for several days or weeks, even.”
Yuuri wiped some of the tears gathering at Viktor’s chin, and scooted closer. Viktor was watching him intently through half shut eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to make his vision clearer and blink away the exhaustion that was currently coursing through his aching body. He wiped his eyes, and cleared his throat softly, “When I was 16, after the Berlin Nationals, I was giving an interview about my goals for the next season.”
Yuuri nodded, “Yeah, I remember. You passed out on live television. I lived on social media for like four days, just trying to see if you were okay. I remember your mom said it was exhaustion.”
Viktor smiled weakly, “I had a 104 fever that put me out for a good day. I didn’t remember much, except my little sister calling me, asking if I was okay. I remember the doctors were surprised that my parents hadn’t shown up because most parents of an ill 16-year-old wouldn’t leave the hospital. I, honestly, hadn’t been that surprised, just hurt. Instead Yakov had come with me to the hospital, leaving as soon as he knew I was okay, in order to arrange a conference with the press or something-”
“I- why wouldn’t that surprise you? My mom would have slept at the hospital for like a week, despite my protest, just to make sure I was okay.”
“Before the interview,” Viktor paused, taking a deep breath, “I, uh-my parents… like I said… were thrilled to have a son who could accomplish so much but,” Viktor looked down at his feet again, “… they weren’t so thrilled to have a son who liked the same sex.”
“Vik- I,” Yuuri sat there, raking his mind over what Viktor had said. He felt shock and confusion etch across his face as finally understood what Viktor had meant. He felt tears slide down his face as Viktor wiped his own with the sleeve of his shirt. Yuuri’s parents had always been understanding and supportive, even when he came out, they threw a party, inviting everyone in town. At the time, it had been rather embarrassing but he remembered being thankful they had been so supportive. But it had never crossed his mind that Viktor’s parents were not the same as his. He never would have guessed, with how alive and happy Viktor was all the time, that his parents would have disowned him, or kicked him out because of who he loved. Yuuri felt his heart break as he let out a half-choked sob, pulling Viktor into a tight embrace. He sucked in a shaky breath as he felt Viktor slowly hug him back, feeling the Russian burying his head against Yuuri’s neck, crying softly.
…………………………………………………………………………………….
“God Vitya, when was the last time you were ill?” Yuuri joked softly, tracing the muscles in Viktor’s back. They were back at the hotel now, which deemed to be an adventure in itself. Getting Viktor out of the locker room bathroom, hadn’t been as hard as Yuuri had originally imagined. The car ride back to the hotel however, was a completely different story. The cabbie had to stop twice in the short 20 minutes, just so Viktor didn’t puke on the floor. Not to mention, trying to steer the taller Russian towards their room had been a nightmare. Yuuri was mostly terrified that Viktor was going to pass out in the hotel elevator, and every time one of the guests asked if Viktor was okay, Yuuri panicked a little more. When Yuuri had finally managed to get the door open, keeping his hand firmly on Viktor’s shoulder in case he took a dive towards the floor, he hadn’t been surprised when Viktor made a beeline straight for the bed and collapsed in the middle of it, unmoving.
It had taken several attempts to wrestle Viktor out of his shirt, and convince him that he’d be more comfortable in sweatpants. After that, and promising that they could explore Munich once Viktor felt up to it, he became much more compliant. Yuuri had convinced him to swallow some meds, down half a water bottle, and sleep with one sheet on, instead of six Viktor kept insisting on. Yuuri smirked as he stopped his glasses from falling, and returned to rubbing soft circles in Viktor’s back. Viktor reminded Yuuri of Yurio when he was sick- innocent, childish, uncooperative at times, and slightly dramatic. It was adorable.
Viktor groaned loudly, “I saw your video.”
Yuuri felt confusion etch across his face, “What?”
Viktor let out a loud cough, closing his eyes, “I was home alone- the last time I was sick- when your video was posted online.” He groaned again and shifted in the bed, turning his head to face Yuuri. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the blurry image of his fiancé. He felt a gentle hand on his forehead, pushing his bangs away from his face and let out a soft sigh. Yuuri’s hand felt nice against his burning forehead. Yuuri always felt nice.
“You’re so beautiful Yuuri,” he whispered softly letting out a gentle yawn. A soft blush swept across Yuuri’s face as he laughed gently, “That’s the fever talking Vitya.”
Viktor looked up at Yuuri again, a dopey grin plastered to his face. Yuuri ran his hand through Viktor’s sweaty hair again before climbing over him, and resting his head on the pillow next to Viktor. He pushed his glasses further on his nose, a small smirk forming on his face as he watched his fiancé struggle groggily. Viktor moved around for a second, fighting with the sheets that were tangled with his limbs, and scooted closer, resting his head on Yuuri’s chest gently. He sighed loudly, closing his eyes, feeling the world beginning to slip away, “Thank you Yuuri.”
He listened to Yuuri’s heart beating against his chest, feeling his hand gliding against his shoulder blades tenderly. “For what love?” Yuuri asked gently, adjusting the pillow behind his head. He tucked his other arm, the one not currently rubbing Viktor’s back, behind his head, and watched as Viktor tried to open his eyes several times, failing. He snorted softly, shaking his head. At least the meds were kicking in.
“For being you.” Viktor whispered softly. Yuuri stiffed. He laid there for a few minutes, listening to Viktor’s breathing even out, realizing the Russian had fallen asleep. He felt tears well in his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. Viktor had gone years without someone truly caring for him, not to mention the number his parents probably did on him when he was a child. He felt his heart shatter again and sucked in a shaky breath, calming himself down. He didn’t want to wake his fiancé.
Yuuri felt a smile spread across his face. He loved Viktor more than he loved Pork Cutlet bowls, which for him, was saying a lot. He loved Viktor for being his loud, prideful, happy, embarrassing, sometimes obnoxious self- he loved everything there was to, and about Viktor. And somehow, by some unknown godly reason, Viktor loved him too. Not just because he had to or because he was coaching him, but because he truly loved Yuuri for being his weird, panicked, self-destructive, anxiety stricken, food loving self. He loved Yuuri for being himself… no one, besides his parents or sister, had ever loved Yuuri for all that he was. Yuuri closed his eyes gently as Viktor’s words echoed through his mind.
Thank you Yuuri, for being you.
Hi! Welcome! :) are you taking requests? So what about Victor with a high fever and some delirious crying? Pairing victuuri 💕 (also I barely see fics of them in Hasetsu? Just suggesting :333)
Thank you, anon, I really hope you’ll like it^^
It was just a cold… Everything was going to be fine… He will be fine tomorrow…But he has a fever…No, it’s not something bad, everything will be all right, Yuuri tried his best to make himself believe that Victor was fine, he really did, but he couldn’t stop worrying.
Everything was almost normal in the morning. They were in Hasetsu, visiting Yuuri’s parents and still training. Victor was just a bit pale and he coughed a few times, but he ensured him that he was fine. And he was until he almost hit his head on the ice. He was sick and Yuuri had to take care of him. They got back home imediately (even if Victor didn’t agree with the idea and he had to be almost forced by Yuuri). The day was okay, Victor took some medicine and ate some katsudon, then slept. Yuuri and his mother took care of him… he was grateful to have a mother figure near him in this kind of moments. Sometimes, he really missed his mom… That’s one of the reasons he loved to go to visit Hasetsu: Yuuri’s parents were so kind with him, as he was their son, not Yuuri. He almost didn’t understand why they acted this way with someone they barely knew. He slept almost the whole day, being awake just for drinking some water or using the restroom. In the evening, he didn’t feel like eating, so he just took a few sips of tea before he returned to sleep. This really worried Yuuri. Victor loved his mom’s cooking, but he didn’t eat anything, he was really sick.
After they finished eating, Yuuri went to his and Victor’s bedroom. He found his fiance sleeping peacefully and snoring a bit, because of his runny nose. He sat down on the bed and gently stroke his hair, then placed a hand on his forehead. His fever had increased. ‘Yuuri?’ he asked, opening his eyes slowly. ‘How do you feel?’ he said. ‘Bad, I think I’m gonna die!’
‘That’s my queen of drama!’ he said, laughing a bit. ‘Go back to sleep, you’ll feel better tomorrow’ he continued, kissing his burning forehead. He did as his fiance said and after less than a minute, he was asleep. Yuuri wet a cloth and put it on his forehead and went to sleep as well. He had to wake up in the middle of the night, to give Victor some medicine.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
‘We are here for mhhhh’s funeral….he left us too soon…he’s happy to have all of you with him in this day.’ Everyone was crying. Everyone wore black. God, who had died? He couldn’t see, he was too far from the coffin. Victor noticed the people who were near him. There were known people and unknown people. Most of them were sobbing. They must have loved a lot the dead person. He saw Phichit, who was on his knees, crying, Chris, even Yurio , who was sobbing in Otabek’s arms. It was obvious that he couldn’t stand on his feet without his boyfriend’s help. The view made Victor’s heart melt. He had never seen the blonde so sad, or crying so much. Who the hell had died? he asked himself. Wait, where was Yuuri? he couldn’t see his fiance. He noticed someone well known: Yuuri’s mother, and near her was her husband and sister. Why were they here? He started panicking. Where was his Yuuri? Suddenly, he was in front of the hole where the dead was. He looked at the person’s face and saw his fiance. Victor knelt and started sobbing. No! his fiance couldn’t die! The person he loved the most in this word…he couldn’t die, they promised each other to live a long life together. He couldn’t die now. Victor screamed and screamed and sobbed, until something started shaking him. He opened his eyes and saw a worried Yuuri in front of him.
………………………………………………………………………………
Yuuri was worried for Vctor. At one pointof night, he had started to be restless and to whimper in his sleep, so he decided to wake him up.
‘Victor, hey, Victor, woke up!’ he said, shaking his shoulder. He just whimpered… ‘Victor, Victooooor, woke up, woke up!’ Suddenly, his fiance opened his eyes, wrapped his arms around his neck and started crying, murmuring his name. He probably had a nightmare….
‘Hey, Vitya, what happened?’ he asked, worried. He just tight his embrace and whimpered again. ‘Hey, sweetheart, does something hurt?’
‘You were dead, I was so scared, Yuuri. First, I couldn’t find you, then I just saw your dead face in front of me and I was so scared, I couldn’t lose you, Yuuri, Yuuri!’ Victor said, through sobs. ‘Hey, hey, I’m here, don’t worry, I’m here, I don’t go anywhere’ he answered, hugging him back and running his fingers through his hair. His fever was even higher. He had to give him some medicine. Yuri tried to get up from the bed, but Victor grabbed his hand and whimpered a ‘Don’t leave me!’ with his weak voice. ‘Don’t worry, Vitya, I’ll be right back, I just go to take you something to make you feel better.’ he said and went to the kitchen. When he returned, he found a miserable crying Victor, curled in a fetal position, under the blanket. He run to the bed, sat down and hugged him tight. His Vitya was in so much pain that Yuuri’s hart broke. He hardly managed to make him swallow the pills and blow his nose, then he returned to being a messy crying ball. At a certain moment, his sobs turned in whimpers and he fell asleep. After an hour, Victor,s fever broke and Yuuri allowed himself to fall asleep as well, but he didn’t untight his embrace.
When Victor woke up, he had no idea what time it was. Maybe afternoon, he thought… He was still in his fiance’s arms and he felt a lot better. He smiled at the sight. His fiance was probably very tired, he had probably taken care of him for the whole night. He was so happy soo see how loved he was. He slowly got out of the sheets and went to the kitchen, where he found Yuuri’s mother, cooking. ‘Hello, darling, how do you feel?’
‘Morning. Way better than yesterday, mom’ he answered. How did he just call her? ‘No, I meant-’ Victor started, worried. ‘It’s fine, dear’, Hiroko said, smiling. Her warm smile was so precious, she made him feel like he was at home. That’s why Victor liked so much going to Hasetsu, he felt like home there^^
The tumblr app ate an ask… again 😑…
Anyway, @dontfeelsogood requested a fic with both Yuuri and Viktor sick and taking care of each other. I hope could do them justice, it was a lot of fun to write.
Warning: Descriptions of vomiting below the cut!
***
Yuuri woke up feeling absolutely horrible. His head throbbed, his stomach was in knots and despite the covers, that should have been heated up by his body over the night, he was shivering. He was definitely sick. But he had a competition in a week from now, so there was no way he could miss out on training.
The black haired skater groaned and tried to sit up, only to be met with a horrible spell of dizziness. He sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head and waited for the world to stop spinning. When he could see more or less straight, he took his glasses from the night table, put them on and got up carefully.
He got dressed and went down for a small breakfast, a bowl of rice with some egg, and tried to ignore the angry churning of his stomach. His mother told him, that Viktor had already left, so he took his jacket immediately after finishing, put on his shoes and went after his coach.
When he stepped outside, he couldn’t suppress a shiver going down his spine. Despite the sun shining it felt terribly cold to him. Well, he would get warmer when he started to jog.
Halfway to the ice rink, ‘though, Yuuri had to stop. His head was spinning and his stomach really hurting now from all the jostling. He took a deep breath to calm down and then continued at a slower pace. He desperately tried not to think about what skating would do to him in that state.
When he finally arrived at the rink, Viktor was already there, standing in the middle of the ice with a pensive expression on his face. He turned around when he heard the door and a smile crossed his face when he saw his boyfriend.
“Yuuri, finally! I already thought you wouldn’t grace me with your presence today!” he exclaimed cheerfully. Yuuri just managed a weak smile in response. That seemed to catch Viktor’s attention. He skated closer to his protégé and gave him a once over with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t bother putting on your skates. You’re going back home”, he then announced in a stern voice.
“Wha—but I have to practice for the competition next week!” Yuuri started to protest. “I’m still not good enough at the quads in the second half and – “
“You’re pale, tired looking, shivering and swaying on your feet”, Viktor listed, crossing his arms. “You’re clearly sick, so there’s no way I can let you skate today, not as your coach and definitely not as your boyfriend!”
Yuuri let out a defeated sigh and slumped down on one of the benches. He knew that there was no arguing with Viktor now, and to be honest he was relieved that he didn’t have to train. He probably would have passed out or thrown up on the ice. Or both. And he sure as hell didn’t want that.
He closed his eyes exhaustedly, only to startle and open them again when something cool was pressed against his forehead.
“You definitely have a fever,” Viktor stated and drew his hand back again and sat down next to him. “Anything else wrong?”
Yuuri shivered. “Head hurt’s. Stomach too…” he mumbled and leaned against his boyfriend, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. “ ‘n feel dizzy…”
“Do you think you’re going to be sick?” Viktor asked concerned. Yuuri shrugged. He really wasn’t sure, his stomach felt really weird.
“God, how did you even make it here, darling?” the silver haired man sighed and ran his hand through his boyfriend’s hair. Yuuri just shrugged again and moved closer to Viktor.
“I’ll call your father to have him come and pick us up with the car,” the Russian decided. Yuuri nodded. That sounded like a very good idea.
***
Maybe Yuuri had dozed off, because it felt like only a few seconds until Viktor nudged him gently and told him that his father had arrived.
He let himself be helped to the car by his boyfriend and leant back into the seat with a sigh. That was indeed much better than walking.
That feeling didn’t last ‘though. As soon as the car started, he started to feel incredibly nauseous. He bent forward in his seat, wrapped his arms around his stomach, closed his eyes and groaned.
“Yuuri, are you okay?” Viktor asked next to him and rested a hand on his back. The younger skater didn’t dare to move in order to answer and instead concentrated on not puking into his father’s car, while Viktor rubbed his back silently.
The ride back to Yuutopia was really short, but for Yuuri it felt like an eternity. When they finally pulled up in front of the house he was swallowing convulsively, his mouth producing far too much saliva.
Viktor helped him out of the car.
“Let’s get you to bed, love,” he said, brow creased in concern. But Yuuri just shook his head and covered his mouth with his hand. Viktor understood.
“Bathroom then,” he said and gently guided the raven upstairs.
As soon as Yuuri was kneeling in front of the toilet, he bent over the bowl, arms curled around his midsection and let out a week cough, spitting up some excess saliva. He panted for a few moments before he suddenly lurched forward with an unproductive heave, soon followed by another. He felt incredibly nauseous now, but he just couldn’t get anything up.
“Shh,” Viktor said soothingly next to him, rubbing his back again. “It’s going to be fine, love. You’ll feel better once you get it all up.”
Yuri leaned over further and gagged towards the water. Then suddenly his whole body shuddered and he finally brought up a stream of fluids and semi-digested breakfast.
“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor sighed sympathetically. Yuuri wanted to reassure him that he was fine, but another wave of vomit cut him off. Several painful heaves later his stomach was finally emptyan he fell back against his boyfriend, panting softly.
He didn’t feel better at all, on the contrary. His stomach was now sore and cramping, his head throbbed from the exertion, his throat burned from the bile and he felt incredibly cold. He closed his eyes and felt tears escaping his lids.
Viktor shifted him until he was resting against the older man’s chest, a gentle thumb wiping down his cheek.
“Shh, hey, none of that,” Viktor said softly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Yuuri complied wordlessly and let his boyfriend lead him to his bedroom where he was carefully undressed and put under the covers.
“I’ll be right back”, Viktor said and left the room. Yuuri closed his eyes and dozed off, only to be awoken by a hand stroking his hair.
“Hey,” Viktor whispered. “You can sleep in a minute, but I want to take your temperature first, okay?”
“ ‘mkay”, Yuuri croaked in response and let the thermometer be shoved under his tongue.
“That’s pretty high, darling”, Viktor said after looking at the display frowning. “Think you can handle some medicine?” The younger man nodded hesitantly, ‘though he didn’t quite trust his stomach yet.
But he let himself be helped to sit up and obediently took a pill and a glass of water from Viktor, swallowing the pill and drinking about half of the water. Then he fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he drifted off into unconsciousness.
***
Viktor sat next to Yuuri’s bed and watched his boyfriend sleep. He was concerned by how fast the others condition had deteriorated. Lying in his bed now, the raven looked incredibly sick, face pale save for two angry red spots on his cheeks, hair matted to his sweaty forehead. It broke the Russian’s heart to see him in this state.
Despite the medicine Yuuri didn’t sleep peacefully, brow creasing and eyes darting around under the lids.
He had only slept for an hour and some when his eyes suddenly shot open and he rolled to his side gagging. Viktor acted as fast as he could, getting the bowl he had brought with him earlier under the sick skater’s chin just in time for all the water to spill back out of him.
Viktor winced and rubbed his boyfriends back, trying to ignore the sick feeling that started to spread in his own stomach. After a few moments Yuuri started dry heaving before falling back and looking at Viktor with glazed over eyes.
“Here, sweetheart, you should try to drink something”, Viktor said and took the glass of water from the night stand. “We don’t want you to get dehydrated.”
Yuuri just nodded and managed to take a few sips before drifting off again.
The following hours until evening were a constant cycle of Yuuri waking up, being sick into the bowl, drinking some water, occasionally taking some more medicine and going back to an unsettled sleep.
Viktor did his best, cleaning out the bowl, getting more water, taking his boyfriend’s temperature and wiping his forehead with a cool cloth from time to time.
It was only when Yuuri’s mother came to ask if he wanted any dinner, that he noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He felt a little sick himself, from watching Yuuri throw up so often or from hunger he couldn’t say, so he smiled and nodded. It couldn’t really hurt, could it? And in addition to that he probably needed energy for the night.
He decided to eat downstairs, in order not to upset Yuuri’s stomach again with the smell of food. It only took him twenty minutes to finish a bowl of rice and some vegetables, but he was really anxious when he went back up, in fear of Yuuri having woken up and finding himself all alone.
To his relief Yuuri was still sleeping when he entered the room. Good. Viktor resumed his place next to the bed, took up a book and tried to pass his time a little.
***
To call the night rough would have been an understatement. Yuuri’s temperature spiked at around half past eleven, he couldn’t keep anything down for more than a few moments and was close to delirious.
Viktor had his hands full with caring for him, checking his temperature every thirty minutes, patting his head to calm him down when he woke up all disoriented and tried to bring his temperature down.
At around three in the morning Yuuri’s temperature was down to a manageable level and he finally managed to fall into a more peaceful slumber. At this point, Viktor himself was beyond exhausted, he shivered, his circulation being down from fatigue.
He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he woke up at around six in the morning, half lying on Yuuri’s bed, with his head on his crossed arms. His head felt heavy and for a moment he considered just going back to sleep as he was, when suddenly he felt his stomach do a flip.
He shot into a sitting position, which made his stomach lurch painfully. This was more than mere queasiness. He felt really sick and he was definitely going to throw up. He cupped his mouth in his hand and debated what to do.
The bowl Yuuri had thrown up into all night was still sitting next to the bed, but that would definitely wake his boyfriend up. Bathroom then.
Viktor stood up and made his way to the door, trying to ignore the black spots dancing around in front of his eyes. Outside the room he stopped for a moment, taking deep breaths in order to calm his stomach at least a little, only to gag into his hand involuntarily. He cursed under his breath and hurried to the bathroom as fast as he could, not wanting to soil his hosts’ hallway.
Once he was there, he didn’t even bother to turn the light on, just collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet, pushing the lid up and gripping the rim of the bowl with both hands. Almost immediately his whole body lurched and a stream of bile and the dinner he had eaten the night before spilled out of him.
The bile burned terribly, throwing him into a coughing fit over the toilet. He tried to keep it as quiet as possible but another violent heave cut into his efforts. He brought up several more mouths full of vomit before he got a short reprieve, staying panting over the bowl, when suddenly the light went on.
“Vitya?”
He shot around which sent a sharp pain through his stomach, making him gasp.
“Ah… Yuuri, what are you doing here? Did I wake you?” he asked, trying to mask the pain.
His boyfriend was standing in the door, wrapped in a blanket, his hair ruffled from sleeping. He still looked too pale, but his eyes were more focused than they had been the day before and currently directed at a certain silver haired Russian with a frown.
“You should go to bed, you’re still si—ugh!” Viktor tried to say, but was cut off by another gag that had him jerk over the toilet and bring up more of his stomach contents. Yuuri was by his side in a split second, rubbing his back as Viktor had done for him almost all night.
“Shit, Vitya! Did you catch it from me?” he inquired, sounding guilty. Viktor shook his head.
“Don’ think so,” he whispered. “Probably caught it wherever you got it…” He coughed up another mouth full of bile, his stomach now being mostly empty.
“Yuuri, y-you really should go back to bed,” he croaked, whole body shaking. “You’re still s-sick…”
The raven haired man just shook his head, rubbing his boyfriend’s back a little more firmly.
“I’m better,” he said sternly, even ‘though he was clearly extremely exhausted and probably still had a fever. “You took good care of me, now it’s my turn to look after you.”
Viktor shook his head. He felt like shit and all he wanted was sleep, but he still worried over his boyfriend.
“Go b-back to bed! You have a competition next week!” he demanded again, trying to sound like Yakov when his old coach put his foot down, but the dry heave that followed immediately afterwards kind of destroyed the effect. Yuuri shook his head again, but then seemed to pause and think before a smile spread over his pale features.
“I’ll go back to bed if you come with me, Vitya!” he announced. Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle weakly.
“I don’t think I’m i-in the m-mood for… k-katsudon right now,” he croaked. A light red hue spread painted Yuuri’s face that was definitely not from the fever.
“Th-that’s not what I meant!” he protested embarrassed. Viktor sighed and let his head drop to the cool toilet rim.
“I know, sweetheart”, he whispered. Then he reached up to flush the toilet and let himself be helped back to Yuuri’s room where the two of them climbed back into the bed, Yuuri being the big spoon for once. He gently massaged Viktor’s sore and cramping stomach while the older man gradually fell asleep.
Just before he drifted off, he managed a small “I love you, Yuuri”.
He was rewarded with a fond “I love you too, Vitya,” then he fell asleep.
