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"Yurochka, how many times do I have to tell you, you're not getting on that ice rink!" Yakov's deep, throaty voice bellowed around the hall, echoing as his anger began to intensify. "The rink is too cold for you, even if you have gloves and a coat on. I forbid you to step foot on that ice," he growled, turning to the Kazakh boy stood next to him. "Otabek, please knock some sense into the boy, would you?"
"You can't tell me what to do!" Yurio rebelled against his coach, his brow furrowed as he spat his words out. "Don't listen to him, Beka. You know I need to practise and I need to get better. It's just a simple cold, nothing more!" The young blonde pulled his gloves on and scowled, grabbing a bewildered Otabek and making a dash for the entrance to the rink.
"Yuri!" Leaving behind Yakov, he jumped onto the rink and skated towards the middle. He didn't know what Yakov's problem was, he had his hoodie and his gloves on, so he was at least warm. "If you're going to be so stubborn then at least practise smaller steps, take it easy." Knowing that he was not going to win against the child, as he never did, Yakov sighed frustrated and allowed him to continue skating.
It had been three days since Yurio had contracted something, the winter flu seemingly knocking on his immune system's door, however with nothing more than a sniff and feeling a little warm, he did not pay much heed to the symptoms, them mirroring a mere common cold. It was only when he took to a flip that he realised how mistaken he really was. After around an hour on the ice, he found his breathing somewhat laboured, his cheeks a little warmer than they should have been, but still he continued. He needed to get as much practise in for the next competition that was coming up and he was sure as hell not going to allow Yuri Katsuki and most certainly not Victor Nikiforov, or anyone else take his gold medal chance away from him. Taking a long swig of water from his bottle, he placed the container to the side. He tired a lot quicker than usual but pushed the feeling aside and was hell bent on continuing. He was to go through his step sequence at least three times more before the afternoon was out and he wasn't going to let a sniffle get the better of him.
"Are you sure you should really be pushing yourself like this, Yura?" The dark haired boy skated up beside him and sighed. "We do have a little time left to practise so perhaps you should just take a break?" Pouting, Yurio glared at his friend and huffed.
"You're starting to sound like Yakov, Beka. I want to do this and I feel fine, so what does it matter? C'mon, let's go through it more." And with that he skated out, Otabek following him slowly.
For Yurio, skating was something that he had always been fascinated with, the beauty of the ice something that always mesmerised him. However it was not until his recent trials at the Grand Prix Finals and the run up towards the even that he truly came to respect and appreciate the ice. Even now, skating across the ice was something that felt natural to him and he loved the way he slipped smoothly, his body twisting and turning as he practised his jumps. The routine he was practising now, though Yakov had scolded him earlier, was perhaps even more difficult than any of his previous skates and the jump sequences were complex.
By the time he had finished just one of his intended trials, he found his breathing laboured even more-so, the sweat that was dripping down his forehead drenching his lengthy fringe. He would 'not concede to a mere cold', he thought as he attempted to shakily skate out to his starting point. It was only when a slender hand stopped him from beginning once more that he realised the true extent of his exhaustion.
"Yuri, you should really listen to what people are saying you know. You should get some rest, you're sweating like there's no tomorrow and your face is really pale." The silvery haired Russian skater that was currently nagging him had been someone he'd tried to avoid the entire day. "Why didn't you listen to Yakov?"
"Get your hands off me, old man! I'm perfectly fine." He turned to go but staggered a little, Victor catching him in his arms. "Ugh, I'm fine. Leave me alone."
In reality, he was not fine. He did not want to admit that perhaps Yakov had been right to scold him for coming in to skate and he most certainly did not want to admit that Victor was right that he did not look well. Most importantly, the words from his best friend, Otabek, of whom he had completely ignored, made him feel a little sad.
"Otabek, I'm sorry to ask this of you, but perhaps you could take him home? I worry that his tiny little body won't hold up in the snow outside." Chuckling, Victor narrowly avoided a punch from said tiny little body and he slid back across the ice. "Now, now little kitten, I was only playing. Go home and get some rest." He skated away, squealing out Yuri's name as the Japanese man appeared at the rink side, lacing up his boots.
"Ugh, as if I needed anything else to make me feel more sick," Yurio grumbled, irate at the scene Victor was causing with his partner.
"So you are feeling unwell?" Otabek glanced at Yuri and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Why do you always push yourself like this? Let me get you home and you can have some rest."
His cheeks flushing slightly, Yurio looked away as they began to skate towards the exit. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." The blonde was never very good at showing his emotions, his initial reaction to people trying to fuss over him usually hurling curse words and shouting at the top of his lungs, but around Otabek, someone he felt he had truly become close with, he had seemingly warmed up. "Let's go then!" Otabek, who had remained still where he was, followed him like a puppy across the ice and they left, not before Yurio threw several more insults to an in love Victor and Yuri who were most definitely displaying their affection for one another publically.
Two days went by and Yurio had not appeared at practise at all. Though he was sometimes tardy, he never didn't show up. Hanging over Yuri's shoulders, Victor pouted, plucking the water bottle from his lover's hands and taking a sip before returning it to his grasp. "I wonder if he really is okay..?" Victor mused, his brow clenched with worry. "It's not like him to actually get sick so I hope that he's taking care of himself."
Mumbling to himself, Yuri nodded, sighing heavily. He too was worried about the younger boy, his energy normally always raging at, at least 120%, so for him to miss practise, especially after making such a big fuss about not wanting to miss it, was a little unsettling for him. "How about we go and pay him a visit later? We can get some food and some medicine for him. I can make him some okayu. Uhm, it's rice porridge! My mother always used to make it for me when I was sick but I'll bet if I put some warm milk and honey in and make it sweet he'd like it!" Yuri craned his head to look round at Victor, who tightened his grip around Yuri, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"You sound like his mother," he grinned, chuckling, burying his face into Yuri's neck. "If you're his mother then that makes me his father, haha!" The pair laughed together simultaneously before embracing once more.
It was true that they both cared deeply about Yurio, thinking of him more as family, though Yurio would hate to admit that they were that close. Victor, especially, had watched him grow from a boy to a young man and he had taken care of him throughout his skating career so of course he would feel closer.
Pulling up in Victor's car, they parked up on the kerb outside Yuri's house, bags in hand and climbed the stairs to his front door. Victor pulled a chain from his pocket and a bunch of keys clinked together, the loop holding several different shaped and coloured keys. He located a short, gold key and singled it out, pressing it into the hole of the lock. It wasn't the first time that Victor had been round to Yurio's house, the last time was to bring him in for practise after a falling out with Yakov over something minor. The pair walked in, Yuri immediately kicking off his shoes out of habit, Victor leading him into the kitchen.
"Let's be quiet in case he's asleep. His mother shouldn't be home until late, so we should be fine to do this. I'll prepare him some medicine if you start on the porridge." Victor pressed a kiss to Yuri's temple before going through the cupboards to grab a cup.
And Yuri set about doing so. Boiling the rice, he added some milk to the pot and once it was off the heat and in the bowl, drizzled a little honey atop the steaming mixture. Placing everything on a tray, including some water and medicine, the pair wandered up the stairs quietly together, stopping on the landing as a gentle murmur came into focus. There was a soft light coming from the closest room to the pair and upon further inspection it was obvious that there was more than one person in the room.
"...And I told him that he was stupid and that he should just retire because he's stupid and he's fat and he ruined everything..." Peering through the crack in the door, Victor and Yuri's eyes widened seeing not only blonde but brown hair lying atop the bed in the middle of the room, the latter above the duvet, whilst Yurio was under the blankets. "...And he's just so annoying but he's so good. Why is he so good Beka? I want to be as good as him. What does he even see in Victor? If only Victor was half as good as he was. I wish he knew that I actually liked him and I don't mean to be an asshole to him, it just comes out because I'm not good with people and I hate people and ughhh..."
It was plainly obvious that Yurio was incessantly slurring his words about Yuri and Victor couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. Otabek lay aside the other teen, his fingers lazily stroking his golden locks as he nodded, smiling at his words.
"Hey I know. I think he knows, don't worry. Yura, I think you should rest, you'll wear yourself out."
"But it's just so annoying, y'know? God. Why?" Otabek chuckled, his thumb lightly brushing Yurio's clammy forehead.
"I guess that you're just going to have to practise even harder. I'm sure they both recognise that you're talented so don't worry" The blonde made an attempt to sit up, only to be blocked by the bigger boy. "No Yuri, you need to focus on getting better. I'll be surprised if you even remember this conversation tomorrow," he tittered, returning to stroking his hair.
"Hmn, I want to go skate. I feel so sick, Beka. Why do I feel so sick? Everyone must think that I'm so pathetic. Why am I so pathetic?" For the first time since the pair had arrived, Yurio had let down his guard, his true side coming out.
"Hey, you're not pathetic, Yura, don't say things like that. You're perfect." Leaning down, Otabek pressed a kiss to the smaller boy's forehead. "Please get some rest, you must be exhausted."
Wincing at the kiss, Yurio turned away. "Don't, you'll get sick if you come closer. If you get sick because of me, I don't know what I'll do." Coughing, Yurio whimpered, bringing his hand from under the covers. Reaching out he grabbed Otabek by the shirt gently and shuffled closer. "I know I say that but, please stay with me. I don't want to be alone."
"Of course Yura, I'll not leave you." Wrapping his arm around his smaller frame, Otabek held Yurio in his arms as he clung to him, nuzzling into his chest. "Go to sleep." Stroking his hair gently, Otabek wrapped his arms around Yurio further until he was comfortably cradled against him.
"I swear I'll be better than him one day..." Otabek laughed, causing Yurio to laugh also.
"Of course you will." Glancing down at him, he smiled. "At least you have retained your sense of humour. Never stop laughing Yura, it will make you feel better always."
Yuri turned to Victor who was still gazing intently at the pair, his eyes glazed over with what could only be described as happiness. "We should go," Yuri mouthed to Victor, jerking his head in a gesture to leave. He placed the tray down next to the door and smiled, taking Victor's hand and pulling him away from the bedroom. Outside, he smiled, leaning into Victor and laughed. "At least he's in good hands." Victor only smiled, nodding in agreement as they got into his car.
Back in the house, Yurio had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhaustion consuming him as fast as darkness consumes night. Unwilling to move, Otabek gently slipped away from his fragile frame and turned off the light at the side of the bed before heading to the door. On his way to the bathroom he very nearly tripped over the tray of food that had been left there and glanced down, confused. Kneeling, he took in the contents of the tray and picked up a small, white square that rest against the bowl of rice. Unfolding it a smile broke out across his face as the he read the words.
'We didn't realise that Yuri already had someone looking after him and didn't want to disturb. If he hasn't eaten please give him this, I'm sure he'll like it.'
He was sure he knew who had left the note but his suspicions were confirmed with the untidy scrawl beneath the first message.
Take care of our son Otabek, he's a precious little child who needs a lot of love and attention. I hope you are prepared for that. Also, tell him Yuri is mine and he can't have him.'
He muttered to himself whilst laughing softly as he stood up, making his way to the bathroom, "Heh, I'll do my best..."