Sickfics

Viktor's TLC

Viktor x SICK Yuuri----YOI

Yuuri was supposed to meet him here at precisely six a.m. sharp. Viktor looked at his watch, it was now fifteen minutes later than the agreed time. He raised an eyebrow and hummed to himself, wondering why his protégé would be late. It wasn't like him to miss practice. He wondered what could have happened; nothing serious he prayed. Oh God, if he had been run over by a car, or bus, or if he was beaten up and robbed! No...he had to calm down. He dialed Yuuri for the third time. Voicemail.

"Yuuri, are you alright? Oh please tell me you are! You're never this late, ever! Call me please my beautiful love!"

After hanging up, he leaned against the wall of the rink, wondering if he should head to Yuuri's home. There shouldn't be a reason for him to...unless Yuuri was bailing due to insecurity and stress. There was a minor tournament coming up, but nothing too big; but Yuuri still had a lot of anxiety about it despite Viktor's inner apathy towards it. Just as he was getting ready to dial again, the door swung open to reveal a flushed and exhausted looking Japanese man.

"Vik-Vi-I'm sorry...I didn't...Lord." he panted. He quickly threw on his skates and got onto the ice, still in a sweat and labored breathing. Viktor watched him carefully, he knew from his core on up that something was terribly wrong with the younger man. He desperately tried to explain to Viktor what had happened, but his breathing only allowed him to give out sputtered and slurred words that could barely be understood. Before trying again, he felt his coach wrap his arms around him, telling to catch his breath first.

"Okay."

It took a few moments, but once Yuuri had his breath back, and a water bottle in his hand, he was finally able to tell why he was so late. "I slept straight through my alarm, and it wasn't until your first call that I woke up. I didn't answer because I wanted to get here as fast as possible without sounding like a trainwreck. So, I dressed and quickly ran here."

Viktor only smiled and shook his head, "Are you feeling alright lovely?" he asked.

"Of course. Why? I mean, I ran harder than ever, but yeah I guess."

"Then let's get to practice!" Viktor cheered. He maintained his composure, but on the inside, he was happy that Yuuri was safe. Just woke up late. Happens to the best. What he didn't know was that Yuuri felt like he was standing when he should be on his deathbed writing out his will. He felt like utter crap. Sick to his stomach, a soul wrenching headache, achy all over, and dreadfully dizzy. He was so close to passing out when he shot up out of bed; swallowing so much back from his stomach, he promised himself that he would tough it out. Be a man and not a weak little baby that he could easily be seen as. Just a little ache, not a big deal. He cringed when Viktor played the music, it meant movement. Damn.

"You remember the routine well?" he asked with a soft and cheerful smile spread across his face.

"Yes I do." Yuuri responded with determination on his face, although it was truly pain. "I got this," he thought. "I got this."

He was in ready position and began to skate. Working on his steps and his rhythm, he tried as hard as he could to focus on the music and get lost in skating. However, a low grumble from his angry stomach suggested otherwise. He tried to keep his breathing in check, but it proved to be even more difficult than keeping the nausea away. A turn, a step, a turn to spin. He landed a little shaky on the foot, but it wasn't bad. Especially for a sick man. He fought the spinning in his eyes, and performed another. This time, he saw giant spots cross his vision, along with an overwhelming sensation of heat and pressure. He stopped skating and tried to gain a focal point, but he was too out of it to see past the starry vision. He didn't feel himself fall down, nor did he hear Viktor call out to him. All he felt was a soft thud on his body and drifted out of consciousness.