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Unlike some people (Victor), Yuri hadn't been raised by wolves in Siberia (Victor), and he, unlike some people he could mention (VICTOR), knew when not to drag his corpse to the rink. (V I C T O R.)
"That's because you always try to die alone," says Victor, who is still mad because Yuri tattled to Yakov, who had called and said that if Victor showed up before his temperature went back to 37C, he was personally going to take Victor by the ear and drag his putrid carcass to the doctor. Again. Did Victor think he has nothing better to do than hold him down for shots.
"I do not," says Yuri.
"Phichit Instagrammed it," says Victor. "You were in this burrito of fuzzy blankets and there were tea mugs everywhere and you were hugging one of those round squishy pillows and you told him to let you rot in peace." He sneezes five times in a row.
Yuri turns beet red, but there's no use promising himself revenge now. "That --"
"You had poodle jammies on," says Victor ruthlessly. "And one of those cosplay Russian Olympic jackets. It had my name on it."
"That video is four years old!" says Yuri.
"Phichit tags very well," says Victor, once again making Yuri wonder why he's planning to spend his life with someone who can barely spell 'shame'.
"That's - that's not what we were discussing," says Yuri.
Victor rouses, eyes flashing in irritation. "We were discussing not you missing practice because I was unjustly banned from the rink!"
Yuri opens his mouth, closes it again, and then decides it's definitely too much of a fight to bring up the time Victor smilingly waved his way through a medal ceremony and collapsed five seconds after he stepped off the ice. He'd been rushed to the hospital with a 39C temp and Yuri had lost five years off his young life. "I'd rather stay here with you," he says. "I'm fine if I miss a day or two, Victor."
"I'm sorry, did Yuri Katsuki just say it was fine if he missed practice? Am I hallucinating?" says Victor. Yuri grabs a pillow and threatens to beat him with it. That's a mistake. Victor laughs and then begins to cough and Yuri rushes over to rub his back while Victor tries to catch his breath. "I'm fine," says Victor. "You should go to the rink."
"Uh, no," says Yuri.
"I'm fine!" says Victor. His jaw is set at a stubborn angle, but Yuri can be stubborn too.
"Do you want me to call my mom?" he says, crossing his arms. It's playing dirty, but Yuri will take all the advantages he can get.
"You wouldn't," says Victor, but not like he believes it.
"Wanna bet?" says Yuri.
"I'm not sick enough to call your mom," argues Victor. "I just - I just need to rest today and I'll --" he chokes over the enormity of the lie he's trying to tell -- "I'll be fine tomorrow. I'll sleep all day today and --"
Yuri raises his eyebrows.
"I'm perfectly fine!" says Victor, fumbling his way out of the cocoon of blankets and displacing an extremely annoyed Makkachin. "See, I can --" He almost makes it to his feet, but at the last second his face goes the color of American Swiss cheese product and he has to sit again.
Yuri decides he's had enough.
"Noooooo," whines Victor, clutching at Yuri uselessly while Yuri calls his sister. "Noooooo, Yuuuuriiiiiii--"
It's too late anyway: Mari has picked up the FaceTime call.
"Hey," says Yuri. "Victor wants to talk to Mom."
"NO HE DOESN'T," howls Victor, and starts coughing.
"Gross," says Mari, and hands the phone to their mom. Yuri points the screen of his own phone at Victor. Victor glares at Yuri, but Yuri doesn't care.
"Vicchan?" says Hiroko. "Oh, dear, you don't sound like you feel very well."
"I --" begins Victor feebly, but it's too late.
"Is Yuri taking care of you?" says Yuri's mom. "You know I made him promise to take care of you."
"Of course he is!" says Victor indignantly, and Yuri's mom goes in for the kill.
"Then you must not be taking very good care of yourself," says Yuri's Mom.
Victor crumbles like a gay stale muffin. "No, mama. Sorry, mama."
"Don't say sorry," scolds Yuri's mom gently. "Get better and take care of yourself so you can take care of our Yuri instead."
"But, Mama," says Victor. "I --"
"But Vicchan," says Yuri's mom, gently mocking him. Victor sighs and Yuri's mom says, "Be good and let Yuri take care of you, dear."
"Yes, mama," says Victor, pouting.
After Yuri's mom gets off FaceTime, Victor crosses his arms like a crabby five year old and scowls. The effect is maybe not what Victor is hoping for, between the fuzzy blanket Victor had wrapped around himself (Yuri in the Eros costume, that Victor had semi-legally bought on the internet, to Yuri's futile horror) and Makkachin clutched in his arms like a large, happily panting security blanket.
"Why do I have to mind what your mother says?" he whines. "You never mind what your mother says."
Yuri pets his head. "It's cause you're her favorite," he tells him.
"I am not," says Victor, scowling.
"You're my favorite too," says Yuri, leaning in to kiss his nose.
Victor leans away from him. "If I'm too sick to go to the rink, I'm too sick to be kissed," he says, pettishly, but he doesn't move his hot forehead away when Yuri puts his hand against it.
"I love you," Yuri tells him.
"Now I know I'm dying," says Victor, but still, when Yuri sits down beside him he cuddles up and put his poor feverish face against the cooler skin of Yuri's neck. He sighs out deeply -- which turns into a massive sneeze.
"I don't want to kiss you anymore," says Yuri.
"Rude," says Victor.