#illnesss

At the sound of a voice softly calling his name, Victor stirs from sleep. He comes to consciousness slowly, his head feeling like it’s full of wool. He instantly wishes he wasn’t awake, since he now becomes aware of the heat his body is radiating, his heartbeat painfully amplified in his temples, and more than anything, the uncomfortable congestion is his sinuses.

Yuuri is kneeling in front of the couch where he had fallen asleep. The blanket that had been draped over his shivering frame earlier is now tangled around his feet, kicked off his body as his chills morphed to an uncomfortable heat.

“How are you feeling, Vitya?” Yuuri asks him, and Victor can’t help the weak smile that breaks out across his face. Yuuri’s caring tone paired with the gentle caress of his lips and tongue around the nickname is music to Victor’s ears.

“Better,” he says, but quickly finds that not to be the case as he tries to speak. The words catch in his throat, painfully dry and itchy. He turns away from Yuuri and buries a fit of coughs. “Okay, maybe dot so much.” He winces at the soreness of his throat, cringing at how stuffed up he sounds.

“Well, I have a surprise for you. It’ll make you feel better. I promise,” Yuuri tells him.

Still in the process of waking up, Victor says the first thing that comes to mind: “Dod’t you think we should wait until I’b no longer contagious?”

Confusion dances across Yuuri’s features at his words before understanding dawns on him. He immediately flushes a deep shade of red, looking scandalized.

“Vi-Victor! That’s not what I meant!” Yuuri stammers. “Justーcome to the table. It will be ready soon.” With that, he scurries back into the kitchen, still very visibly flustered.

Victor watches him go with an amused grin; it’s far too easy to tease Yuuri. He pushes himself off the couch, keeping a hand on it for balance as dizziness overtakes his vision for a moment. Once it passes, Victor kicks the tangle of blanket free from his feet and heads for the dining room.

Yuuri is working over a pot on the stove and glances his way as he enters. The embarrassed flush is gone, and Victor already misses it. With a tired sigh, he plops down onto one the chairs and rests his head on the table, his folded arms acting as a makeshift pillow.

“How long ‘till it’s ready?” Victor asks Yuuri, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Just another minute,” comes Yuuri’s voice from much closer than Victor expected. He opens his eyes and sees Yuuri standing in front of him, a hand finding Victor’s heated forehead. “You still feel quite warm. And you still sound stuffed up. Luckily, I got just the thing to help with that.”

Victor had been so caught up in how miserable he feels, wishing he was unconscious and unaware of his discomfort, that he hadn’t even bothered to ask what the surprise was. He voices his curiosity to Yuuri.

“I tried my hand at a Nikiforov family recipe,” he answers, heading back to the stove. He switches the burner off, grabbing the pot resting on top of it.

Pure affection surges through Victor at the thought that Yuuri decided to cook, a recipe from his family, no less. He wonders what exactly it is that Yuuri has decided to make. Steam is wafting invitingly from the pot, and Victor feels a sudden wave of sadness wash over him at his inability to smell the aroma of whatever is being prepared; no air at all is able to pass through his plugged nose.

At last, the pot is placed on the table in front of Victor. Curious, he peers inside to find…boiled potatoes?

Yuuri drapes a towel over Victor’s head and the man raises his head at the action. “Use this and breathe in. It should help with your congestion,” Yuuri instructs. “It helped with mine when I was sick.”

As per Yuuri’s instructions, Victor arranges the towel over his head, allowing the steam to be contained by the makeshift tent. After just a minute, he can already feel it working; the congestion is loosening. Victor’s nose has begun to run and he sniffles, grateful that he can actually do so. It’s then that a thought crosses his mind.

“Hey, Yuuri, didn’t you say this was a Nikiforov family re…ehhh?…reciIHHH…recipー” Victor begins to ask, his voice hitching on the final word. Yuuri is right there to offer a tissue, and Victor snatches it from him, quickly catching the sneeze. Two more come after it, just as forceful and productive as the first. Yuuri hands him an extra couple of tissue and Victor accepts them gratefully.

He blows his nose, cringing at the sound and shuddering at the vibration, then bunches the tissue and creates a makeshift discard pile on the table. Yuuri is standing beside him, holding the box of tissues with one hand and rubbing Victor’s back with the other as he continues to lean over the pot.

After many more minutes and many, many, more sneezes, Victor’s nose is no longer congested and he can finally breathe again. There’s a large pile of used tissues on the table, the box Yuuri has been holding visibly depleted. Victor slumps back into his chair with a sigh of relief, the towel falling off his head and draping around his neck.

“All done?” Yuuri asks.

Victor nods. “Thank you, Yuuri. I do feel much better.”

Yuuri smiles and begins to move to take the pot of water back, still hot and steaming. Victor stands up, placing a hand over Yuuri’s as he reaches for the handles. “Let me. You’ve already done so much to look after me. It’s the least I can do,” Victor insists. He takes the pot and Yuuri lets him.

He’s halfway between the table and the stove when he is caught off guard by a sudden and sharp sensation in his nose. It builds in an instant and rushes out of him in the next. He closes his eyes and turns his head to try and catch the sneeze in his elbow. He has no time to think about the fact that his hand are full.

His body jerks forward onceーHHHNK’shh!!ーand then againーEHH’shhksh!!ーand he’s about to release a third sneeze when he feels a hot and searing pain on his feet. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it as he again braces himself for the next fit. His grip on the handles is turning his knuckles white. Suddenly the pot is pulled rather forcefully from his hands. Yuuri has taken the water from him, and this time Victor manages to successfully catch the next sneeze in the crook of his elbow.

“Are you alright, Victor?” Yuuri asks, very concerned. The pot has been placed on the stove, and Yuuri is scanning his features with a serious intensity for any sign that something is wrong.

Victor is breathing heavily by the time his fit is over, as if he has just attempted 10 quad flips in a row. Victor nods in response to Yuuri’s question, still struggling to catch his breath. But at least he can breathe through his nose again. The hot water really did wonders.

Speaking of hot water, it’s then that Victor remembers he got some on his feet. It doesn’t hurt too bad, but the pain is definitely still there. He looks down to examine the damage, finding nothing visible to the eye other than the usual abuse that comes with the sport he and Yuuri dedicate themselves to.

Yuuri notices Victor’s gaze and follows it. “You spilled hot water on your feet. We need to treat you for burns,” Yuuri insists, voice leaving no room for arguments.

“It really doesn’t hurt too bad,” Victor tries to downplay his injury, even despite Yuuri’s stern motherly tone. The pain isn’t terrible. His feet have hurt worse after many a day of training. Once he dries his feet and applies an ice pack, he’s sure it will fade.

Not convinced, Yuuri takes Victor’s hand and leads him away from the kitchen, leaving wet footprints behind them. “I’ll draw a bath of cool water. Your feet are already damaged as they are. We can’t have them being burned on top of that.”

Victor can’t find a good enough reason to argue. Plus, the cool water sounds nice; his body still feels uncomfortably warm from his fever.

He let’s Yuuri draw a bath, filled about a quarter full with water that’s not too cold but still feels amazing on his tender feet nonetheless. Yuuri sits right next to Victor, both of them on the side of the tub, and Victor lazily lets his head fall on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Yuuri apologizes, guilt weighing heavily in his small voice.

“It’s alright, Yuuri. It’s not your fault, and the pain is not that bad. I’ve had a lot worse,” Victor reassures him, brushing his foot against Yuuri’s in the cool water. “Plus, your potato water helped clear my congestion.”

“You really mean that?” Yuuri asks. “It was good?”

“Mm,” Victor hums, exhaustion beginning to creep back in. “It was a lovely surprise.”

“I was worried I added too much hot sauce or something. I couldn’t exactly find a written recipe.”

Victor shakes his head, still resting on Yuuri’s shoulder. “It was perfect. My Yuuri is so good to me,” he says, hand migrating toward Yuuri’s to give it a gentle squeeze.

As if to prove his point, Yuuri places a kiss of the top of Victor’s head. Affectionate warmth floods through Victor’s body, and he feels it even down to his burned toes, the pain that was there already long gone.

～～～

(End)