Written for a sick days request for a seasick Yurio. Content warning for vomit. Enjoy!


"Yuri, why are you hiding back here?" Otabek asks, crouching down beside the table that Yuri is surreptitiously sitting under.

The sudden question makes Yuri jump, hitting his head on the bottom of the table. "Ouch!" he hisses angrily, rubbing at the newly sore spot on the top of his head. "You can't just sneak up on people like that!"

"If you weren't hiding down here, I wouldn't have to," Otabek points out. He notices Yuri rubbing at his sore head. "Are you okay?"

"I'm-hic-fine!" Yuri snaps irritably, green eyes narrowing. "I'm just getting away from those sickening lovebirds. Urp!" He covers his mouth too late to even partially stifle the loud burp that punctuates his sentence.

"I see," Otabek says, his face it's usual stoic mask. He notes the greenish tint to Yuri's face, and the way he keeps swallowing convulsively. "Seasick?"

"Of course not!" Yuri replies instantly. "I'm perfectly fine! Boats don't bother me at all!" He pauses for another burp. "Lunch just isn't sitting well, that's all. Probably because they ordered such crappy food."

Otabek raises an eyebrow, which disappears behind his dark hair. "Yuri, you barely ate anything at lunch. Besides, the food was excellent."

Yuri swallows hard, his face paling a little. "Ugh, can we please not talk about food right now? You're making it w-worse!" A loud gurgle from his stomach has Yuri doubling over in pain, clapping his hands over his mouth in distress.

Fortunately, Otabek seems to sense his panic, and helps Yuri to his feet (miraculously avoiding another collusion with the table), steering him out of the cabin and to a deserted area of the boat near the rail.

Yuri's stomach holds out just long enough for him to stick his head out over the water; then he's heaving, bringing up what little lunch he'd been able to stomach, along with bile and stomach acid that tears up his throat and makes his eyes water. He's vaguely aware of Otabek's hand resting between his shoulders, rubbing in soothing circles, as his other hand holds back Yuri's long blonde hair.

It takes several minutes of dry heaving for Yuri's stomach to finally accept that it's empty. As soon as he's granted a reprieve, Yuri slides down so that he's sitting with his back to the rail. His shoulders slump miserably and his hair, free from Otabek's grip, hangs listlessly around his shoulders.

Yuri jerks his head up, startled, when Otabek nudges his shoulder. "Cheer up," the older skater suggests. "I'm going to go ask the staff if they have any Dramamine. In the meantime, just try to breathe in the fresh air. It should help a little."

Closing his eyes, Yuri gives a tiny nod. He brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, trying to breathe through the residual nausea. His long hair dangles around his face, shielding it from view. This was not how he'd hoped for this trip to go.

He's never setting foot on a boat again.


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