Written for a sick days request a few years ago. Set post-canon. Content warnings for vomit. Enjoy!


"Oh Vitya, you look miserable," Yuuri says, feeling his fiancé's forehead and wincing at the heat he feels pouring off of him. "Are you feeling any worse?"

Victor shakes his head and makes a so-so gesture with his right hand, pushing his silver bangs out of his eyes. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is pale, but even sick, he's still the most beautiful person that Yuuri has ever laid eyes on. "I'm alright, Yuuri," Victor reassures him, his usually smooth voice rough and croaky. He's probably torn up his throat with all of the throwing up that he's been doing.

This stomach flu has left Victor weak and feverish; Yuuri can't help but worry. "You say that, but I think that your fever is higher this morning." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "I've got an old family recipe that my mom swears by. We could give it a try, if you want, since the fever reducers don't seem to be doing much."

"Fine by me," Victor agrees easily. He's pretty much willing to try anything at this point if it helps him feel less miserable. The past three days have been an endless blur of puking and exhaustion, with no end in sight. "What is it?"

"It's called umeboshi," Yuuri explains. "You heat up some pickled plums and add a bit of the juice to your tea, and voila! It makes your fever go down. My mom swears by it."

Victor is hesitant; the idea of eating or drinking anything doesn't exactly sound appealing, and he hasn't been able to hold anything down for the past few days, not even water. But Yuuri is so worried, and Victor hates seeing him like this. "Sounds great."

Yuuri apparently doesn't sense his reluctance, because he's instantly bustling around the kitchen, setting the water to boil for the tea and cooking the plums. "My mom sent me some pickled plums as a housewarming gift. Lucky, huh?"

Trying not to fall asleep on the counter before the homemade remedy is ready, Victor gives a murmur of assent. His stomach doesn't hurt as much as yesterday, and he's not very nauseous. Maybe the tea will actually do him some good.

Before long, Yuuri is shaking him awake; apparently he dozed off, content in the warmth of the kitchen. He places a cup of tea in front of Victor, smiling nervously. "I made chamomile, which is good for upset stomachs, and added the juice. I hope that it helps!"

Tentatively, Victor picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip. Yuuri always manages to serve tea at the perfect temperature: hot, but not scalding. To his surprise, the flavor is decent, and he finds himself drinking more-before he notices, he's drained more than half the cup. The heat from the tea is welcomed by his fever-ravaged body, and the tea is soothing on his scratchy throat.

He feels marginally better already. Maybe Yuuri's remedy really does work!

"I'm glad that you like it," Yuuri says, glowing with pride. Before long, the cup is empty. "Why don't you lay down for a bit? You look exhausted."

His stamina must be depleted by the flu, because Victor actually is tired. He nods and plods back to the bedroom without putting up much of a fuss. He settles himself into the pillows, looking forward to a nice nap, when his stomach gives an ominous gurgle. Victor lays still for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that the nausea will settle. An alarming lurch of his stomach shatters that hope and sends Victor diving over the side of the bed, puking up the tea he just drank into the conveniently placed trash can.

Yuuri comes running at the sound of the retching, and when Victor finally manages to catch his breath and look up, he meets the frantic eyes of his fiancé. "Victor! Are you alright?"

Victor shoots Yuuri a reassuring smile, ignoring the stinging in his throat and the corners of his eyes. "I think I need to take it slower next time."


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