Sorry that this took so long! There's been a lot of stuff going on in my life plus I'm working on a ton of projects, and to top it off I lost my laptop for a little while! But fortunately I'm back and better than ever! At least three people requested a sick Yuuri, so here he is! Now I've done Yuri and Yuuri, all I need to do is a sick Victor to complete the trio.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story! Y'all are wonderful!

A note on this chapter: I don't think that Victor is completely clueless, but I do think that he would panic if something was wrong with Yuuri, so that's what this is intended to portray.

As per usual, Yuuri K. is Yuuri and Yuri P. is Yuri. Enjoy!

When Yuri wakes to the sound of his own name, only to open his eyes and see that it's still pitch dark outside, he groans and curses, rolling over to squint and look at his alarm clock. What the hell? It's their day off, why would anyone be waking him up so early.

"Yurio!" Victor's voice calls again, and Yurio forces himself up and out of bed with another loud groan.

"This'd better be important, geezer, or I will kill you," Yuri mutters under his breath as he makes his way towards Yuuri and Victor's bedroom, where Victor's voice had been coming from.

"What is it, geezer?" Yuri demands loudly as soon as passes through the doorway. "You better have had a good reason to wake me up. Some of us actually sleep at this hour of the day. And for the last time, my name isn't Yurio."

"Shhh!" Victor demands. "Yuuri's still asleep."

Yuri folds his arms, unimpressed. "Fine," he mutters, lowering his voice a tiny bit. "Now, what do you want?"

"Yuuri's sick!" Victor responds instantly. He seems relieved to see Yuri, now that Yuri thinks about it.

"And?" Yuri replies without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow at Victor. What on earth does Yuuri being sick have to do with him? "He's your fiancé, your problem. You deal with it."

He turns to leave, to flee this den of germs, but Victor catches his wrist before he can take a step. "Yuri, I need your help!" Victor whines loudly, already forgetting about his own desire to keep quiet so he won't wake Yuuri.

"Why do you need my help, geezer? You're an adult—somehow. You should be perfectly capable of taking care of your sick fiancé." He sighs heavily. "I'm going back to bed. You can figure this out on your own."

"Please, Yuri?" Victor pleads again.

Yuri doesn't want to, he really doesn't, but it's hard to resist Victor when he makes that face. "Fine, geezer, I'll help you out. But you owe me big time."

"Thank you, Yuri!" Victor gushes, reaching out to try to hug him.

Yuri quickly sidesteps the hug, grimacing and rolling his eyes. "Hands off, geezer. Now, what's wrong with him?"

Victor's eyes light up. "I think he's running a fever! He felt all warm where he was pressed up against me. And his breathing sounds congested and he was coughing in his sleep."

"Well, if he feels like he has a fever we should check his temperature. Do you have a thermometer?"

Victor goes into the bathroom to check, and comes back empty-handed. Yuri really wishes that he was surprised, but honestly, he was almost expecting this.

"How do you not own a thermometer? Do you not get sick or something?" Yuri asks.

"Of course I get sick. Despite the beliefs of my wonderful fans, I'm not invincible."

"Then what do you do when you get sick?"

"Well, usually I try to skate through it until Yakov sends me home. Then, I usually curl up on the couch and watch reruns of the winter Olympics until I feel slightly better and then I go back to practicing."

"Well, normal people take their temperatures when they're running a fever," Yuri says, ignoring his own tendency to try to skate through illness until he collapses. "Do you at least have any medicine, at least?"

Victor shakes his head, and Yuri facepalms. "Well that figures," he mutters under his breath, before lifting his head to look at the clock. "The 24-hour store should still be open. I'll run over there and grab a thermometer and some medication." Victor opens his mouth to make a remark, but Yuri beats him to it. "Only because I don't trust you to get the right supplies because you're bad enough at looking after yourself."

"Wait, what should I do with Yuuri while you're gone?" Victor asks, sounding panicky.

Yuri rolls his eyes again, turning around to head back to his room. "I don't know, just keep him comfortable, maybe make him tea when he wakes up—if you can do it without burning down the house."

It doesn't take very long for Yuri to run to his room, get dressed, and go to the store and back. When he returns to Victor's apartment, Victor and Yuuri are on the couch watching Russian soap operas. Yuuri is holding a mug of tea. "Good morning, Yuri," he calls over his shoulder. Yuri grunts in response.

"I see that you didn't manage to kill him while I was gone," Yuri announces, definitely not breathing a sigh of relief. He plops a grocery bag full of medication and a thermometer on Victor's lap, startling him. "Take his temperature with the thermometer and give him some of the medicine in there. Everything should be labeled and have instructions. It's easy enough that even you should be able to do it."

Victor nods, peering intently at the box containing the thermometer as though by staring hard enough he can obtain the secrets of the universe. "What're you going to do?"

"I'm going to make some soup," Yuri announces. "It's my grandfather's old recipe. Also, you owe me for the groceries."

Yuri busies himself in the kitchen, cutting up ingredients and mixing them in the pot of boiling water on the stove. He hums to himself as he does it, so focused on his cooking that he completely misses the sappy smiles on Victor and Yuuri's faces.

Soon enough, a bowl of piping hot soup is sitting ready on the stove. Victor is in the bathroom, so Yuri ladles it into two bowls and brings one of them out to Yuuri. The TV channel has been changed; now it's showing reruns of the winter Olympics pair skating finals.

"Thank you for making soup, Yuri," Yuuri says when Yuri hands him his bowl. "And thank you for getting groceries."

Yuri's face is not flushing red; absolutely not. "Whatever, katsudon," he mutters. "You two owe me big time, especially if you get me sick."

It was meant to be intimidating, but Yuuri only laughs. "Of course, Yuri. Thanks again."

That's more than enough sappiness for Yuri. "Shut up and eat your soup, katsudon, before the geezer comes back out here and offers to spoon feed it to you, or something equally as gross."

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

As per usual, this fic is open for requests, so please let me know if there's something that you want to see and I'll do my best to make it happen!

I recently wrote a cute short fic about Victor and Yuuri and sleeptalking called Learning Experiences, so check it out! I'm also planning on writing a fic about Victor and Mila where Victor discovers his (lack of) talent in the kitchen, if anyone is interested!