Written for a friend's idea and originally posted to my sneezehq tumblr. Set post series, with Yuri pretty much living with Victor and Yuuri, except Yuuri is out of town or something in this fic. Content warning for vomit. Enjoy!
"Why's it so cold in here?" Yuri demands as soon as he's through the door of Victor and Yuuri's apartment. He's had a long day of skating and all he wants to do is relax in the warmth of the flat. "What, is the heater broken or something?"
Victor looks amused, but also a little concerned. "The heat is working just fine, Yuri."
"You're lying, it's freezing in here!" Yuri snaps, snatching up Victor's Russia jacket and pulling it on. If the geezer is trying to chill him to death, then Yuri is at least entitled to his jacket. He stalks over to the thermostat, and frowns when he sees that it's set at a normal 23 degrees. Huh. Maybe he's just cold from being outside? It is the middle of the winter in Russia.
Whatever. Yuri turns to go to the bathroom. A hot shower should sort things out. "You better have left me some hot water!" Victor doesn't bother to respond, but Yuri can hear him laughing. He slams the door behind him. Hot showers are no laughing matter, Victor!
One shower and change of clothes later, and Yuri is still shivering. He tugs Victor's jacket over his pajamas and sighs at the comforting warmth. "Yuri! It's time for dinner!" calls the geezer himself from the living room.
"I'm not hungry!" Yuri shouts back, wincing when his sore throat protests his volume. He's really not hungry; in fact, he feels all out of sorts. His head aches, he's dizzy, and despite wearing his warmest pajamas and Victor's jacket, he still feels cold. It's very strange.
Yuri decides to just go to bed early, figuring that a good night's sleep should fix things. He is exhausted after all; maybe that's all this is. Burrowing under the covers, Yuri sighs. He's finally warm. Within seconds, he's fast asleep.
When Yuri wakes up again, he's confused. It doesn't feel like that much time has passed, and it's still dark outside, so why is he awake? His stomach gives an ominous gurgle, and Yuri's eyes shoot wide open in surprise. He stumbles out of bed, untangling himself from the sheets twisted around his legs, and bolts for the bathroom. At the last second he tries to slip out of Victor's jacket, not wanting to ruin it, but it would take too long. Yuri barely has time to collapse heavily to his knees (they'll be bruised later) before his stomach is forcing itself up his throat.
He heaves violently, trembling as his stomach twists and he spits bile into the water. It burns his already sore throat, but Yuri isn't done yet. He barely has a chance to breath before he's gagging again, only thin streams of puke coming up since he hasn't eaten much today. His angry stomach doesn't seem to care that it's empty, and Yuri dry heaves for what feels like hours. When the retching finally stops, Yuri crumbles to the bathroom floor, completely drained.
He's shivering violently now, and he tries to pull Victor's jacket around himself as much as possible. The cold tile floor chills him even further, but Yuri doesn't have the strength to get up right now. He has no idea how long he lays there on the bathroom floor, trembling, teeth chattering, and wishing he could move.
Victor gasping jolts him back into wakefulness. He must have dozed off at some point, curled up on the bathroom floor with Victor's jacket as a blanket. Oh. Victor's talking to him. He should probably respond.
"Yuri! Yuri, what happened?" Victor's anxious voice only worsens Yuri's headache.
He groans weakly. "Too loud," he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. Victor has turned on the bathroom light, and it stabs his eyes mercilessly.
"I'm sorry," Victor says, instantly dropping his voice to a soft whisper. "What are you doing in here?"
"Don't feel good," Yuri slurs. As if he just randomly camps out on the bathroom floor.
"I can see that," Victor replies, cupping Yuri's face to check his temperature. Yuri leans into the warmth of the touch with a little sigh. "Yuri, you're burning up!"
"No, that can't be," Yuri murmurs. He's so tired; everything feels like too much effort. "I'm freezing."
"That's probably the fever you're running," Victor explains to the delirious Yuri. "I'd like to get a number on your temperature, if you can sit up."
Sitting up is an ordeal, and Yuri has to rely heavily on Victor. He almost slumps back down to the floor again when Victor makes the mistake of letting go. Catching on, Victor props the teenager against his chest while he reaches for the thermometer. The device is then unceremoniously put in Yuri's mouth.
Yuri almost falls asleep waiting, but startles awake again when the thermometer beeps. Victor glances at the screen and swears loudly. "You're pretty sick. I'm going to need you to take some medicine, if you can keep it down."
Yuri ignores him, instead staring raptly at the tile floor. "I knew that this was all your fault," he whispers, his voice barely audible.
"What?" Victor squawks at the sudden accusation.
"Mhm." Yuri rolls his head to look at Victor, his green eyes narrowing. "You gave me your stomach flu."
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