This is an extremely old fic that I wrote for a friend's prompt on my sneezehq tumblr. Anyway, this is set after the Rostelcom competition, in her AU where Victor is Yurio's coach, but I also have Yakov and Lilia as his kind of co-coaches here. Content warning for vomit. I write Yuri P. as Yuri. Enjoy!


Yuri can't remember a time where he felt more tired. He's so sore after his free skate that even walking is a chore, and all he wants to do is go back to the hotel and pass out. He'd finished his routine to loud applause from the audience and Yakov, Lilia, and a pale-looking Victor, who had barely managed to drag himself to the rink to watch Yuri perform today. He was still getting over the stomach flu that had been going around.

Despite his amazing performance, Yakov was still scolding him, however. "One of these days you're going to have to figure out how to stun the audience without nearly killing yourself!" Yuri barely responds to the criticism. Apparently even getting a new personal best isn't good enough for Yakov.

Lilia doesn't nag Yuri for once, but she does suggest that he goes for a jog or does some stretching before he goes to sleep. Yuri nods vacantly, but he doesn't think that he's doing anything else today besides collapsing into bed.

"That was wonderful, Yuri!" Victor exclaims. His voice is still rough and weak, but he sounds very proud. Smiling and nodding eagerly, Yuri drags himself on dead legs to follow.

Once he's back in his hotel room, the idea of doing anything besides curling up and sleeping for the next few days seems absurd. Even showering seems like too much effort right now.

I'll just nap for a few hours, Yuri tells himself, laying on his side letting his heavy eyes fall closed. When he wakes up he'll feel better and he can shower and stretch. He's been weirdly dizzy since finishing his performance, but he chalks it up to sheer exhaustion.

When Yuri wakes up, he feels ten times worse. His muscles have stiffened up while he was sleeping, and the pain from his sore muscles makes him want to cry out. It feels as though his muscles have been ripped to shreds.

Muscle soreness isn't the only unfortunate new development that Yuri notices. He's covered in sweat, and the sheets around him and tangled and soaked. He swallows hard against the churning of his stomach; he can't have caught the flu that's going around, he's been so careful!

His stomach gives an unpleasant lurch, and all other thoughts are pushed out of Yuri's mind in favor of getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible. His mouth is already filled with saliva, and Yuri swallows hard again, begging his body to wait. He tries to make a mad dash for the bathroom, but his sore muscles scream in protest. There's a trash can under the desk next to the bed, but Yuri's attempts to get to it are thwarted once again by his body's complete refusal to move.

He's swallowing convulsively now, desperately trying to at least lean over the side of the bed before he pukes, but apparently he's out of luck. There's another alarming lurch from his stomach, before hot bile is rushing up his throat. Groaning miserably, Yuri throws up all over his lap.

The vomit is hot and sticky on his lap, and the smell is enough to make him gag again, bringing up more foul-smelling puke. He hadn't eaten anything after competing, so all that comes up is stomach acid. Still, his body refuses to give him any rest, and he continues gagging and dry heaving for what seems like an eternity.

When Yuri finally has a chance to catch his breath, he's horrified and mortified. He's absolutely covered in puke, his throat is scraped raw from throwing up, and the pain in his muscles has spiked, leaving him in agony. He needs help, desperately, but the closet person is Victor, sleeping in the room next door. He can't possibly wake Victor, he's still getting over this flu.

Yuri is not one to cry, but right now, aching and exhausted and covered in vomit, he can't help it. Tears begin rolling down his pale, sweaty cheeks as he sobs.

Despite Yuri's efforts to muffle his cries into his hands, Victor still wakes with the feeling that something is horribly wrong. When he hears the muffled sobbing coming from the room next door, his concern spikes, and he rushes over to Yuri's room before he's even awake.

The sight of Yuri, sobbing and covered in puke, stops Victor in his tracks for a moment. Yuri, upon noticing Victor's presence, starts crying even harder. He can't remember feeling this miserable ever before.

Unphased by the mess, Victor is at Yuri's side instantly. "Looks like you caught the flu that's been going around," he says kindly, before scooping up Yuri and heading for the bathroom. Yur's face is flushed and the heat rolling off his skin is frightening. Victor sets Yuri down next to the toilet and starts running the bath.

Before he can call Lilia and tell her what's happened, he hears Yuri gag. Yuri has a hand clapped over his mouth, but he's too weak to support himself over the toilet. Instead, Victor props Yuri against his chest and tucks the wastebasket under his chin, not even remotely concerned about Yuri's vomit-stained shirt.

Yuri retches weakly, but only manages to bring up only a tiny stream of bike. Victor smoothes his hair back and holds him upright, murmuring soothing words in his ear. Even though Yuri's stomach is beyond empty, he doesn't stop dry heaving for a good fifteen minutes. When the horrible gagging finally ends, Yuri slumps back against Victor with a choked sob.

"You're alright," Victor soothes. He helps Yuri undress and get into the cold bath he's been running before finally calling Lilia. She replies instantly, and Victor taps Yuri's shoulder to get his attention. He's worried that Yuri will fall asleep in the bath if he's not supervised.

"Let's get you washed up before Lilia gets here." Yuri mumbles his assent and Victor quickly rinses the vomit off his chest. Lilia arrives quickly and takes a seat on the floor to watch over Yuri. She's even thought to bring a change of clothes for Victor. The trash can is set by the side of the tub for easy access.

Victor changes and cleans up the mess in the bedroom as quickly and thoroughly as he can. He doesn't want to leave Yuri's side for long. Finally, when he's replaced the bedding with fresh sheets, put the trash can within easy reach of the bed and grabbed some clean clothes for Yuri, he quickly swaps places with Lilia in the bathroom. Yuri has thrown up several times since he left, judging by the mess in the trash, but he still manages a weak smile when he sees Victor. He's less flushed than before.

Victor smiles gently back at Yuri, sweeping his damp hair off his forehead. It feels cooler to the touch than before, and he gives a relieved sigh. "How about we get you back to bed?"

"Sounds good," Yuri whispers weakly, his voice nearly gone. He allows Victor to dress him, carry him back to bed, and tuck him in without complaint. Clearly exhausted by the whole ordeal, Yuri's eyes close instantly and his breathing evens out within minutes. After watching him sleep for a while, Victor stands, intent on cleaning up the mess in the bathroom.

He's stopped by a small hand grasping weakly at his wrist. "Don't go," Yuri says in a raspy voice, his words slurred by exhaustion.

Victor laughs, before taking a seat on the bed next to Yuri. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassures Yuri, who hums tiredly before finally slipping into a peaceful slumber. He might be sick and miserable and achy, but at least he has Victor.


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