When Yuuri wakes up, he's shivering, and he feels at least ten times worse than he had last night. His head is throbbing in time with his heartbeat, his throat hurts, and he's so congested that he can't breathe through his nose.

He stands up, but the room spins and he's forced to grab onto the wall to regain his balance. He makes his way slowly over to the closet and fishes out the thickest coat he can find, then pulls it over his already too-warm body.

"You're up," Viktor says, pouring steaming hot tea into a cup. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I… n-nothing," Yuuri manages to croak out, then cringes at the sound of his voice. He clears his throat, but the action doesn't help much. "I'm not hungry."

"No need to be so selfless," his coach replies, turning around to face him fully. "I can get you whatever you want to eat."

"Tea, then," he says, then coughs a few times into his hand. "Just tea." To say he isn't hungry at the moment would be an understatement.

Viktor hands him a cup of steaming green tea, and he takes it gratefully, relishing at the long-awaited warmth that seeps into his fingertips. He takes a sip, and the warm liquid slides comfortably down his throat, alleviating some of the pain that lingers there.

"Thanks," he says weakly, and Viktor smiles.

"Let's head off. Hopefully the traffic has died down by now." Viktor throws the words over his shoulder as he grabs his things and pulls open the door. Yuuri sets down his empty cup on the table, braces himself for another day of practice, and follows him.

~x~

"You over rotated."

"Don't bend your left knee as much."

"The turn should be at a sharper angle. Go back and do it again."

"You missed the sound cue. You're not in sync with the music."

Practice, as it turns out, is more frustrating than usual: the jumps he's doing are difficult even on good days, but perfecting them with a monster headache is next to impossible. Not to mention, his body feels unusually heavy and unwieldy, and it's as if his movements are always lagging behind.

"Let's practice the quadruple flip," Viktor says half an hour into their session. "The landing should be all we have to work on. You did well on it yesterday."

Yuuri nods - he doesn't think he can manage it in his state, but he's not in the mood to complain. He skates forward, braces his body for the impact, and jumps.

The world blurs around him, colors flying, and he's almost certain he gets four rotations in. The jump, however, makes him dizzier than usual, and the world is suddenly tilted in a way it shouldn't be. As he lands, his legs give way ungracefully beneath him and send him toppling to the ground.

The ice is suddenly resting on his burning hot cheek, but it feels nice, so he lets his eyes drift closed.

He can barely hear Viktor scream his name.

~x~

It all happens before his eyes. One moment Yuuri is leaping up to attempt the jump, then he spins flawlessly in the air, and then his weight shifts too far forward with the landing and he loses his balance.

He falls.

And Viktor's eyes widen, and he screams, "YUURI!" But it's not quite loud enough, and Yuuri doesn't even think to break his fall, and his body hits the ice with a resounding smack.

The next thing Viktor knows, his legs are moving on their own and he's sprinting across the ice. He crouches down beside his student's body, slings one arm underneath Yuri's knees and props the other arm up behind his head.

Yuuri isn't that heavy, considering that he hasn't eaten in awhile, but he still weighs a substantial amount. Even so, Viktor doesn't stop walking until he reaches the car in the parking lot. He lays Yuuri down in the backseat and, frowning, presses the back of one hand to Yuuri's forehead.

It's burning up. How hadn't he noticed earlier?

The younger man stirs, one brown eye cracking open, and says, "Viktor?"

"Yeah," Viktor says, feeling a part of himself deflate with relief. "How are you faring? Should I take you to a hospital?"

"H-Hospital?" Yuuri blinks slowly, then shakes his head. "No, no hospitals. I'm fine." His sentence would have been more convictive had he not broken into a coughing fit immediately afterwards.

"Yeah. You're totally fine," Viktor restates flatly, raising an eyebrow.

Yuuri looks away. "It's just a cold."

Viktor says nothing; simply squeezes his hand lightly, closes the door to the backseat, then slides into the driver's seat. "I'll take you back to the hotel, then."

"But practice–"

"Yuuri, you passed out."

Luckily, Yuuri doesn't protest further, which means he must be feeling pretty bad. Viktor maneuvers the small car out of the parking lot and starts off onto the highway.

They spend the rest of the drive in silence.

~x~

When Yuuri wakes up next, he's in their hotel bed. On the bedstand is a box of tissues shaped like Makkachin and a cup of tea that's still steaming hot.

"Ah, Yuuri," Viktor says, "how are you feeling?" He leans in so their foreheads are touching, then pulls back quickly. "Your fever seems to have gone down."

Yuuri feels his face growing warm - he still isn't completely used to this type of proximity. "B-Better," he stammers. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just a few hours," Viktor answers casually, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. The mattress dips a little with his weight. "That tea's for you, by the way."

They sit for awhile in silence while Yuuri finishes the cup of tea. "Um," he begins, then stops himself. Should he ask about their practice schedule? About Yurio's strengths and weaknesses as an opponent? About - he's postponed this discussion for long enough - yesterday?

"I'm sorry," Viktor says, interrupting his train of thought.

Yuuri stares at him, wide-eyed and unblinking. "What?"

"I didn't notice you were sick."

"Oh," Yuuri says, then laughs. "No, that was my fault. I should have said something."

"Still… there were so many signs that I should've just known." The words come spilling out; Yuuri realizes, slightly amused, that Viktor must have thought them tons of times already. "I was just so... focused. On everything else. And I–"

"Viktor."

"I don't know how to take care of other people, okay?" He says, and he's so flustered for once it's almost endearing, except the sentence is so quiet - so painfully simple, like a confession he's been holding in for years - that Yuuri just can't bring himself to laugh at it.

"Viktor," he says, more forcefully this time, "you seem to be taking care of me just fine."

"Yeah, well." A wavering breath. "For future purposes, please do give me a heads up before you pass out."

"Yeah, yeah." Yuuri has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay."

"And–"

"There's an 'and?'"

"Shut up. I was going to say I'm sorry about kissing you. In public. I should've asked… or something."

"What? No, that was nice," Yuri says, "When did I say I minded?"

"You… don't mind?"

"No." Now he's blushing, great. "I d-don't–"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence, though, because suddenly Viktor's leaning in, and the distance between them is abridged again and sweet, soft lips are fitting into his own.

"V-Viktor!" He yells, pulling away, flustered. "Don't do that now, you'll get sick!"

The mischievous smirk is back on Viktor's face, and the look in his eyes suggests that that won't be the last kiss for tonight. "No, that was nice," Viktor says, and Yuuri realizes that his words sound a bit too familiar. Viktor leans in closer, his breath warm breath skirting Yuuri's cheek. "When did I say I minded?"

woah wtf i finished it in a day? that was unexpected haha

anyways, i'm finally done :) hope you liked!

edit: i've now fixed the character tags / complete status! i really thought i'd done that already, sorry!