I can’t not think about this scene. And just the amount of trust it must have took for her to let him seize her by the neck and her not be afraid is amazing. Cause I mean even though they were putting on a show, he is still a predator. I just…I love them so much.
London: day 4? I can’t remember. 4, I think. So yes, I met Penny and Chaos and it was lovely and, like, soul-affirming in some way that these people who loom large in my fandom and writing life are Real! And! Wonderful! And we toured some Sherlock sites! Squeeeeee! And I even got to meet Ponder of the (truly) Magnificent Hair. And I basically went straight from that to a cafe where I sat and wrote for 2 hours on a meta/fic that may never see the light of day. And THEN I went to Foyles and bought all the books. Well, four. But that is a lot. Now I’m eating a sandwich and waiting to call my boys so I can go to sleeeeeep. Solidly excellent day.
*Squeeeeee* you are both so awesome ILY SO MUCH!!!! Could I maybe request Yurio saying "Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad?" to Viktor?
Heyo! Bridget here! I decided to take this request. This fic may be short. But it’s done. You’ve gotta give me points for that! Anyway. I really hope this is okay. -Bridget
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling so bad?” Yuri Plisetsky asked softly
All truth included, Yuri did not predict his afternoon practice with Viktor to end the way it seemed to be coming to a close.
Sure. Viktor seemed sleepy and unsteady when they left for practice. But when they were on the ice, he seemed okay. If not a bit tired.
Unknowing to Yuri, Viktor woke up feeling like absolute hell.
He was cold despite being completely drenched in sweat.
He’d sat up and everything caught up to him. His head felt dizzy, his stomach was churning unsettlingly, and he was dead tired.
So by time practice was drawing to a close, Viktor was swallowing back acidic tasting bile convulsively.
He skated over to the barrier, using one hand to stay upright, clenching the edge of the barrier. Another hand made its way to his stomach.
He knew something would happen. And it would happen soon.
He had to get off the ice. Had to.
Hence how Yuri found himself in such a slightly unsettling situation.
Currently, the two Russian natives were on the cold floor of the bathroom at the ice rink.
Yuri was brushing back silver bangs to keep them out of the danger zone.
Viktor, however, was relentlessly coughing up what was in his stomach.
Over and over he brought up what he’d eaten in the last twenty four hours, each clench of nausea making his body tense and tremble beneath the hands of his young companion. Each heave ripped his throat further. And he couldn’t catch a break to just breathe.
Finally, the vomiting subsided. It tapered off into forceful dry heaves that diminished into coughing and spitting.
Panting, he listened to Yuri’s question.
“I wanted to skate.” Viktor said, wincing softly at how rough and weak his voice sounded “If I told you I wasn’t feeling well, you’d have told Lilia or Yakov.”
“Damn right I would have. Viktor. You’re sick.” Yuri said
Even now in a time of pain and struggle, Viktor forced a faint smile “So you say…” He teased
“You are. And skating in your condition isn’t good for you.” Yuri said “You could have gotten hurt or made yourself-”
“Are you seriously giving me this lecture?” Viktor questioned, pulling away from the toilet and leaning against the stall wall.
Yuri nods “I learn a lot from you.”
Viktor groans “And thus, the student becomes the master.”
“Shut up old man.” Yuri teased “You’re sick. And feel like you have a fever. We’re going home.”
Viktor leans against Yuri slightly, closing his eyes “Not yet…”
“Still feel bad?” Yuri asked
Viktor merely nodded.
“I’ll stay until you’re feeling better.” Yuri said “But Lilia and Yakov are going to kill you when they find out.”