I wrote this for a prompt asking for Yuuri having a hard time adjusting to the Russian winter after he moves, and trying to hide his repeated illnesses from Victor so he doesn't worry, which eventually backfires when he ends up with bronchitis. I based this on the time I caught bronchitis while I was studying abroad in Copenhagen and did the same thing as Yuuri. My parents had to make me go to the doctor when I got home. Anyway, I hope that you like it! Set post-series.


Russia is cold. Much colder than Japan. Yuuri had known this when he'd moved, but experiencing it firsthand was completely different. He comes down with a cold three times in the first three months he lives with Victor. It's exhausting and annoying, but not life-threatening.

So when he wakes up yet again with a sore throat, Yuuri just sighs and resolves to power through it. It's just getting ridiculous at this point, and he really can't afford to miss any more training.

But this cold doesn't progress like the others. The only symptoms are a sore throat and coughing, no runny nose or congestion like Yuuri is used to. Yuuri thinks he might have a fever too, as his and Victor's bedroom isn't usually this warm, but he hasn't actually taken his temperature. That would be admitting defeat to the bitter Russian weather. Yuuri is strong. He can handle this.

Despite Yuuri's meticulous taking of medicine, he can't quite seem to shake this cold. His cough steadily worsens, going from occasional and throat-scraping to constant chesty coughs. They sound deep, wet, and painful, and feel about as bad as they sound. Yuuri finds himself unable to catch his breath during practice, and he knows that Victor is worried sick about him. But he's still sure that it's just a cold; he doesn't need to be fussed over.

"Are you sure that this is just a cold?" Victor asks, his voice sharp with concern, as Yuuri breaks into yet another fit of coughing. It leaves him gasping for air and his eyes watering. "I don't like the sound of that cough."

"I'm fine, really," Yuuri manages to wheeze out. He's not fine. It's hard to breathe, and his chest feels thick with congestion. But he can't be that sick, and he hates seeing the pity in Victor's eyes every time he gets sick from the cold.

"I don't quite believe that," says Victor, who is suddenly standing right in front of Yuuri. When did he get over here? He gently cups Yuuri's face for a moment, before his face creases with a frown. "You're burning up, love. I don't think that this is just a cold."

Yuuri opens his mouth to protest, but he's cut off by another, even harsher bout of coughs. Victor rubs his back and murmurs soothingly in his ear as he coughs and coughs and coughs, barely able to take in any air. This fit is productive, and when it finally dies down, Yuuri feels slimy phlegm in his mouth. He grabs a tissue and spits surreptitiously into it.

Victor doesn't miss it, his blue eyes dark with concern. "We're going to the doctor," he announces, before Yuuri can even catch his breath to argue. Not that he would at this point. Victor slings an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, pulling him close, before grabbing the car keys and steering them to the door.

The car ride is silent aside from the radio and Yuuri's near-constant coughs. Victor is shooting him anxious glances every few seconds; Yuuri would tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but he lacks the breath to do so.

As soon as they arrive at the doctor's office, there's a flurry of motion, and they don't really get a chance to talk until they're back in the car, heading to the pharmacy.

"Yuuri," Victor says as soon as they get in. "Why didn't you tell me that you were this sick?"

Yuuri takes a careful breath before responding. "I didn't think that it was this bad."

"I'm sure that you didn't at first, but Yuuri," Noticing Yuuri's flinch, Victor softens his tone a bit. "You have bronchitis. Surely at some point you realized that it wasn't just a cold. Why didn't you tell me then?" Yuuri doesn't respond, just stares down at his lap. "Yuuri?" Victor prods again. He mumbles something, but it's far too quiet and jumbled for Victor to understand. "Can you repeat that, love?"

Finally, Yuuri raises his head; he's still steadfastly refusing to look at Victor. "I was tired of being sick," he begins softly. "Of getting sick from the Russian weather. And of that pitying look you keep giving me when I'm sick."

There's a tense silence in the car as the pull up to the drive-through of the pharmacy. It isn't until after Victor orders the prescription that he says, "I'm sorry that you keep getting sick, and I'm sorry that it seems like I'm pitying you." Yuuri hates to be thought of as weak, after all. "I just can't stand to see someone I love not feeling well and being unable to help."

"Victor," is all Yuuri is able to croak out, tears welling in his eyes. He blames the fever for making him emotional.

Victor reaches across to hug him, pulling him close to his chest. Fortunately the car is stopped, and so they sit in the car, parked in a pharmacy parking lot for a long moment.

Finally, Victor releases Yuuri and pulls back a little. He gently wipes the tears from under Yuuri's eyes. "I don't blame you for having difficulty adjusting to the weather. You've come a long way to be here." Yuuri gives him a tiny smile of gratitude. "Just, please let me take care of you?" Victor asks, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuri's hand. All Yuuri can do is nod.


Thank you for reading! Please leave a review!