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Cutie (Yuri!!! on Ice; M)

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Spoo   
Spoo

I took a[n unplanned] break from writing any Yuri!!! on Ice fics, but I've been back in the mood for it lately~ There's an adorable collaboration going around snezblr (the fetish community on tumblr :P) that features a sick!Yuuri (along with pretty much every other 18+ skater being sick as well), and it inspired me to write my own sick!Yuuri. He's so cute, and I feel like he's even cuter when he's got a cold. :wub:

Takes place post-series/in St. Petersburg. Enjoy! :D  

~ * ~

 

Cutie

by Spoo

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It’s not too late when Viktor returns from running his afternoon errands, but that doesn’t stop him from being quiet as he enters the apartment and gently closes the door behind him. Makkachin greets his favorite human in the world with a thumping tail and plenty of wet-nosed kisses, and Viktor happily accepts them.

“I have something special for you, Makka,” he tells the poodle, unwinding his scarf and walking into his spacious kitchen. From one of the bags in his arms he retrieves a small pack of gourmet dog treats. “Sidet.”

Makkachin heeds the Russisan command and sits down on his haunches. Viktor smiles at his good, obedient boy before hiding a chicken-flavored biscuit behind his back. He encloses it in one of his hands and then holds both of them out towards Makkachin. After giving each hand a sniff, Makkachin bops the treat-bearing hand with his paw and then gobbles it up when said hand opens. Pleased, Viktor gives Makkachin a scruff behind the ear and then resumes putting away the groceries. Fresh vegetables and milk go in the fridge, strawberry ice cream goes in the freezer, and a sack of rice goes in the bottom cupboard.

When he’s finished, Viktor takes the single remaining bag and heads into the adjacent living room. In addition to giving Makkachin a treat, he also has something for his other baby.

Viktor shakes his head as he looks down at the sad blanket burrito stretched along the length of the sofa. “Right where I left you,” he whispers fondly.

In all fairness, Yuuri had put up a valiant fight when he’d tried fending off the pesky headcold: he went to bed early, drank plenty of water, and even resorted to taking an immune system booster. The battle went on for a solid week, and just when they both thought he’d managed to kick the virus to the curb it yanked the rug right under Yuuri’s feet and sent him crashing into illness.

The poor thing had woken that morning fevered, congested, and incapable of going anywhere without a warm blanket wrapped around his shivery shoulders. Even sleeping on the sofa he looks exhausted, in spite of the fact that he’s been knocked out since Viktor left almost three hours prior.

His partner would be content to let Yuuri keep sleeping, but he needs another dose of cold medicine, which is why Viktor bends at the waist and kisses into the unruly strands of black hair that jut out of the blankets.

“Yuuri,” he says. “You have to wake up, lapochka. It’s time for more medicine.”

Viktor gives Yuuri’s crown another kiss and smiles when he finally starts to rouse the sleepy skater. It begins with a twitch, then a shift, then a low groan before Yuuri’s chocolate-brown irises peek through an opening in the blanket.

Viktor?” he croaks, and then coughs. His gaze narrows into a confused squint as he tilts his head. “What are you doing back so soon?”

At that, Viktor chuckles. “Yuuri, I’ve been gone for almost three hours.”

Yuuri sniffles and rubs a fist into his left eye. “Really?”

“Really,” Viktor confirms, rounding the sofa and sitting on the floor in front of it. His hand reaches out and settles across Yuuri’s exposed forehead, where it searches for signs of an increased or decreased temperature. “You’ve been asleep for a while.”

“It doesn’t feel like I have,” Yuuri admits, leaning into Viktor’s cool touch. “To be honest, I don’t even remember falling aslehh…nnh—hahp’ttschh!

The soft sneeze is sudden and catches the two of them off guard; Viktor manages to take his hand away just as Yuuri curls into his blanket cocoon with another kittenish release.

Hahp’kschhsh!

“Bless you, bless you,” Viktor tells him, twice for each sneeze, as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a bottle of liquid cold medicine. He pours out a syrupy dose in the small plastic measuring cup that’s provided and then offers it up once Yuuri is a little less sniffly. “Here you go.”

For the sake of not choking or spilling the sticky stuff all over himself, Yuuri eases his heavy body upright and sways a little when the action makes him feel woozy. When he blinks away the disorientation he finds that Viktor is no longer sitting on the floor in front of him, but beside him now with a steadying arm wrapped around Yuuri’s waist.

Taking the tiny cup between his warm fingers, Yuuri swallows the contents down and then slumps against Viktor, as if his repositioning on the sofa and taking the medicine had zapped whatever fragments of energy his nap had managed to restore.

Viktor takes the empty cup back, but not before kissing Yuuri’s temple and nodding towards the coffee table. “Do you want more tea?”

Yuuri cups a hand over his mouth to shield the coughs that spill out. “If you don’t mind making me some, that’d be great.”

“Yuuri, Yuuri,” Viktor chides, pulling away from his better half to stand up. “You know I never mind. Especially when you’re not feeling well.”

Which I’m still sorry about, by the way,” Yuuri points out, flopping against the back of the sofa since Viktor isn’t there to lean on anymore. “I was so sure I’d kicked this cold.”

Without his glasses on Viktor’s figure is no better or clearer than a blurry blob in the kitchen, but Yuuri thinks he sees him shrug his shoulders. “It happens. Better now than once we’re in the season, da?”

Hai,” Yuuri agrees, and it doesn’t occur to him that he’s done so in Japanese until a beat later. “I mean yes, da—sorry. My brain clearly isn’t working today.”

Viktor bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing as he prepares two cups of tea: spiced ginger for Yuuri, Earl Grey for himself. He returns to the living room a few minutes later, and by then Yuuri is on the precipice of another ticklish sneeze; he stands by with the two mugs in either of his hands, just because he doesn’t fancy the steaming liquid spilling on them.

Hahh’ihptschh!” It’s directed down into his nest of blankets before Yuuri can secure a fresh tissue and press it against his nose. He looks up at Viktor, watery-eyed, before he realizes why Viktor hasn’t sat down yet. “It’s safe,” he snuffles, implying that the sneeze is a single and won’t be followed by others (just yet, anyway).

Viktor sits down and waits until Yuuri’s hands are free to give him his tea. Makkachin noisily slurps from his water bowl in the kitchen, but he joins the two when he’s done and lays on Yuuri’s other side, so that Yuuri is sandwiched between two needy puppies.

“Did you get all your errands done?” Yuuri asks, once he and Viktor have settled into a comfortable and companionable silence.

Viktor nods. “I went to the market, and then to the pharmacy, and spent the rest of my time walking around.” He debates on telling Yuuri something he saw while he was out, but he decides to go ahead because maybe Yuuri will somehow, miraculously say yes? “They’re opening a new cat cafe, you know. Maybe we can—”

“Absolutely not,” Yuuri deadpans, before Viktor can even complete his sentence.

Fortunately, Viktor’s already prepared his most pathetic, pitiful pout. “Ohhh, but Yuuriiii. There were kitties in the window, and they looked so soft and fluffy. If we just go for fifteen minutes—”

“You’ll be an itchy, allergic mess,” Yuuri interrupts again, poking a finger into Viktor’s firm sternum. He tries to look authoritative, but his pink nose and bedhead fail to make him look anything even close to intimidating. “And then I’ll have to drag you home and pump you full of antihistamines.”

The sad thing is that Viktor can’t even defend himself. All of Yuuri’s claims are true—straight down to the antihistamine part—due to his aggressive cat allergy. It’s why Viktor assumes that they won’t be going to the cat cafe any time soon (but hmmm, maybe he can get Yurio to convince Yuuri).

“Then we’ll go somewhere else,” Viktor compromises, sipping his tea. “Just the two of us.”

They won’t have a lot of time to do things once they delve into their vigorous training regimen, so it’s important that they make plans while they can and when Yuuri is healthy enough to participate.

Speaking of which, the steam from his tea is turning Yuuri’s stuffy nose into a drippy one. He sets down the mug on the table and gathers up some more tissues to blow his nose. It’s not the worst cold he’s had, but it’s a persistent one. If he’s lucky it’ll be long gone by the following week.

Yuuri lowers the tissues away from his much-pinker nose and looks at Viktor, who is now staring at him with a twinkle of amusement in those sky blue eyes of his. Self-consciously, Yuuri shrinks away. “What?”

“Nothing. You just look cute right now,” Viktor confesses.

Yuuri’s cheeks, already flushed from fever, darken. “I do not look cute right now. I look the complete opposite of cute.”

“Nope!” Viktor disagrees. “You’re always cute, but you look even cuter than usual.”

As if to illustrate his point, he lightly boops Yuuri’s nose…whiiiiich happens to be a mistake. He watches as Yuuri’s expression slowly crumples; his eyebrows slant and his lips part with a shaky, hitching inhale. Whoops. Viktor secures his tea while Yuuri burrows into his handful of tissues again.

Hahp’tzschhh!—hahh’itschhuh!

Yuuri turns to glare at Viktor, as if saying ‘you did this!’, but Viktor is conveniently looking in the opposite direction and sipping his tea. His charade of innocence melts away when he looks at Yuuri through the corner of his eye and can’t help but giggle into his mug (mostly because Yuuri looks adorable when he’s cross).

“Awww,” Viktor coos. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I always forget how sensitive your nose is when you have a cold.” It’s probably as sensitive as Viktor’s is on a daily basis, which says a lot. “And bless you, by the way. Cutie.”

Yuuri huffs and scrunches back down into his blankets. As punishment for Viktor’s action and continual persistence about the whole ‘cute’ thing, he decides to use Viktor’s legs as a pillow. Once he lies lengthwise again (with his knees bent so Makkachin still has room) Yuuri’s cheek rubs into Viktor’s thigh as he gets comfortable. He feels Viktor start playing with his hair, and even though he’s still a little bristly he lets it happen.

When Viktor tries to pull his fingers away, Yuuri reaches for them and puts them right back into his hair. He’s not like Viktor, who will start making whiny noises when you stop stroking his hair; he’ll just put them back in a silent command for Viktor to keep at it.

It eventually grows quiet again and Yuuri almost drifts off, but then he hears Viktor say: “...Are you sure we can’t go to the cat cafe?”

Viktor’s response comes in the form of a tissue box being thrown at his head.

 

END.

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WolfPack   
WolfPack

Lovely story! For one, I haven't even started watching Yuri!! on Ice (But I really should if it's this cute), but this story is GOLD! :rollslow:

Keep up the good work!

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helyzelle   
helyzelle

Awww, he really is a cutie! So about that new cat cafe, is there really no way for Viktor to convince Yuuri? I mean, uh, cats are cute... :whistle:

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JQLovesSneezes   
JQLovesSneezes

Spoo, your Yuri!!! On Ice fics are some of my favorites! :wub: Victor and Yuuri are too darn cute, and you write them so darn well. You should totally follow this up with a cat cafe fic, you set it up perfectly. :heart:

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CeruleanBlue   
CeruleanBlue

This is adorable!! You write them in-character amazingly well. And I'm also with the others regarding a cat cafe fic. :) 

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