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A quick Yuri on Ice thing


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A/N: So I have caught the Yuri!!! On Ice craze and wanted to write something. It somehow ended up being a lot less sneezy than anticipated but I may write more. This is also posted on my snz-specific tumblr by the way so feel free to check it out here. It's pretty YOI ridden at the moment LOL.

Anyway, onward with the fic!



Even though they are in Russia, they make their usual way over to the rink: Viktor on his bike, Yuuri panting behind him at a jog. Today Viktor isn’t going too fast though at least. Perhaps he is taking pity on the fact that Yuuri is just coming off of a competition, and only has one week before the next? Certainly it wasn’t the moment for a running injury.

And Viktor could be quite considerate when he wanted to be. Just yesterday on the plane he’d leant Yuuri his dashing coat when he noticed Yuuri rubbing his cold hands together after take-off. And they’d both napped a bit, on each other again actually, which made Yuuri blush to remember, but then when Yuuri had woken up he’d felt small shivers running through Viktor’s elegant frame—and still he refused to take the coat back until they’d arrived at the hotel.

“Come along piglet, no slacking!”

The warmth that had been suffusing Yuuri’s chest was instantly snuffed. Stupid Viktor with his stupid shiny soft hair and his stupid elegant frame, he probably rode the bike just so he could show his ass off, Yuuri wouldn’t put it past him. God if he didn’t look amazing though. The stupid show off.

Finally they pull up in front of the stadium. Yuuri gapes a little at it, even though it isn’t his first time seeing it, or even seeing a stadium of this size. The thing is, if you’d asked him just two months ago if he thought he’d ever be competing at this level again he would’ve laughed. Or cried. Or maybe both. But here he was, and it was all thanks to Viktor, Viktor with his impossibly blue eyes who leant people his nice dashing coat, and who—who was looking at Yuuri with a fond, amused look actually.

Yuuri’s heart leapt into his throat. They hadn’t discussed the…kiss thing, that had happened at the end of Yuuri’s free skate at the China Grand Prix. And Viktor wasn’t all of a sudden kissing Yuuri all the time, or telling people that Yuuri was his boyfriend—not that Yuuri wanted that! Of course not. He just wanted to know where they stood that was all. Not that—if Viktor did want to be his boyfriend—well there was no use in wondering because Viktor hadn’t said anything at all!

As Yuuri slowly turned a darker and darker red as these thoughts circled dizzily in his head, Viktor’s small smile turned into one of his fatally attractive smirks, the crooked kind that made his eyes positively glitter.

“What is going through your head right now my little cutlet?” Viktor murmured, gently grabbing Yuuri’s chin and forcing him to look up into those hooded eyes.  Yuuri’s breath caught.

“I—I—don’t—I’m—I’m not your cutlet!” he stuttered. Viktor’s smirk only widened to more deadly, devious lengths.

“Oh? And whose cutlet are you then, if not mine, hmm?” he mused, looking at Yuuri steadily from underneath those ridiculously long eyelashes. And was it Yuuri’s imagination or was his voice sounding a bit low and rough?

Yuuri was turning purple at this point and gaped soundlessly a few times before Viktor took pity on him and let go of Yuuri’s chin, breaking the intense moment and giving a light laugh.

“Alright, alright. Stop flirting with me, it’s time to skate!” he said, gliding off and leaving Yuuri to scramble to catch up with him.



The thing was, sometimes, not always, but sometimes, when he was in his element, wearing his costume, with his skates on, listening to the hum of the crowd that was there to see him, to be wowed by him—he felt like he could do anything, conquer anything. Like he could conquer Viktor. And like he wanted to, like Viktor was his birthright and he just needed to state his claim and the whole world would step back and leave him to what was his.

It was a bit of a gross thought, Yuuri recognized, when he came down from the high. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t stop it from rising up in himself in those moments. It was what made him say those things he said to Viktor, ‘Don’t you ever take your eyes off me.’

And even now, when Yuuri was just wearing his dorky practice uniform, lacing up his skates with Viktor sat beside him on the bench, when the memory of those words passed through his head, he couldn’t deny them. He meant them, every word, and he always would.


 About midway through the practice Yuuri realized with a jolt of surprise that Viktor was already leaving the rink to sit on the bench. Usually he stayed on the ice with Yuuri, so he could yell at him from a closer vantage point, and poke at him and things like that. And then near the end of practice he would step back and go to the bench to watch Yuuri from the audience’s perspective. Today he left only an hour in though.  

“Viktor?” he called a bit uncertainly and Viktor turned back and smiled at him fondly.

“So easily frazzled my cutlet. I want to watch you more today. The step sequence in Eros—don’t worry about performing just yet, I want to make sure the timing is right.” Viktor called as he stepped out of the rink. He rustled around in his duffle for a minute before pulling out a long, cream colored cashmere scarf and wrapping it around the elegant pale column of his throat.

“Alright, back to the sequence.” Viktor called, in that odd low voice he had been using today. Yuuri barely noticed though, eyes stuck on the cashmere scarf wrapped securely around Viktor’s neck.

‘I don’t remember that scarf. I don’t even remember him packing it in his duffle for today. And how could Viktor want to put more layers on after zooming around the rink like that?’ Yuuri wondered with a frown. But then Viktor cleared his throat impatiently and Yuuri snapped to attention.  

“Ah! S-sorry yes. The step sequence.”

But he was plagued for the rest of the practice with distraction. Something seemed off about Viktor, and the more Yuuri thought about it, the more he noticed. His coach was always prone to a pink nose in the cold of the rink, but today his cheeks were flushed as well. And his voice, it wasn’t just a low, seductive tone, it was actually rougher and quieter sounding today. Was Viktor tired? Was he sick?

As if to confirm the dreaded thought, Viktor gave a soft sounding sneeze from the bench. He had muffled the sound in his glove but it still carried through the empty room.


“B-bless you Viktor!” Yuuri called immediately and Viktor gave him an impatient, if bleary smile in thanks before shuddering with two mostly stifled sneezes into his gloved hand.

K’xct! N’kxct!”

“Bless you.” Yuuri repeated quietly, quiet enough he wouldn’t have been surprised if Viktor hadn’t heard him--but he did apparently because he gave Yuuri a tired nod of acknowledgment and another tight smile before waving at him to continue.

But after that Yuuri’s concentration was shot. He fumbled the step sequence so many times that Viktor had him move on to jumps but that was no better. Yuuri couldn’t stop the anxious niggling worry that something was wrong with Viktor—that he had fallen ill on the cold plane trip over to Russia, when he so sweetly leant Yuuri his coat, that it was all his fault—

“Yuuri—stop looking at me and pay attention!” Viktor finally snapped, when Yuuri flubbed a jump for the third time, trying to see if Viktor had been stifling another sneeze between his gloved fingers or just rubbing his nose.

“Sorry.” Yuuri said despondently, but he didn’t go back into position, just stood there looking at Viktor.

“Yuuri?” Viktor said questioningly, his stern expression melting into one of confusion.

‘He looks pale,’ Yuuri thought and quickly skated over to where Viktor was stood at the edge of the rink.

 “What’s wrong, Yuuri?”

Yuuri shook his head and gently cupped Victor’s cheek. Viktor jolted with surprise and gave him a wide-eyed look, as he always did when Yuuri was the one to initiate touch. But for once Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to enjoy surprising his coach.

“I was right,” he whispered sadly. “A fever.”


Yuuri gently slid his hand under his Viktor’s fringe to palm his forehead.

“You’re running a fever Viktor. You should be in bed.” Yuuri said, oddly feeling like he was going to cry.

Viktor gave him a confused look, gently pulling Yuuri’s hand away and clasping it between his gloved ones.

“Yuuri I’m fine. Where is this coming from, eh cutlet? You don’t need to worry about me.” He said giving Yuuri’s hand an earnest little squeeze, and god, why did Yuuri really feel like he was going to cry?

“Idiot! You’re not fine! You—you’re sick! Your voice has gone all funny and—and you’ve sneezed at least three times—and you’re all pink and it’s, it’s all my fault!” Yuuri gasped and pulled Viktor into his arms and then really did start to cry.

Viktor froze for a moment before awkwardly patting Yuuri’s back.

“Hey, hey now. You know I don’t know what to do when you cry Yuuri.” Viktor said, sounding a bit shell-shocked. “And maybe I’m coming down with a little cold—of course such an observant little cutlet like you would notice my slightest sniffle!—but it’s nothing to get worked up about. Eh?”

Yuuri just shook his head, tears still streaking down his cheeks and he hugged Viktor even tighter, making him give a little grunt of surprise. After a moment though Viktor sighed and forced himself to relax into Yuuri’s frantic embrace a bit, and rubbed his back as comfortingly as he could.

“You are such an adorable little old lady Yuuri. If I feel a little warm it’s only because I was just chasing you around the rink. It would be weirder if I weren’t warm.”

This, Yuuri had to admit, did sound sensible. He sniffled and pulled back a little, peering anxiously into Viktor’s face. Viktor was peering back, sympathetic looking, if still pale and pink-cheeked.

“Poor Yuuri. You’re still feeling anxious about competing aren’t you?” Viktor said soothingly. He freed one of his arms out from under Yuuri’s tight hold and pulled off one of his gloves so he could wipe away Yuuri’s tears with a thumb.

“Poor Yuuri.” He repeated, voice low, and—oh—Yuuri could feel the words rumbling through Viktor’s chest, where they were still pressed tightly together. Despite himself, the kiss flashed through his mind.

“Forget about the competition, ok? Just focus on me. On seducing me. You know everyone in this stadium will want me, don’t you?” Viktor murmured, his face dangerously close to Yuuri’s again. “And they aren’t allowed to have me, are they Yuuri?”


Yuuri finally backed hurriedly away, turning red again, like he always did when he talked to Viktor.

“Y-you can’t just—just say stuff like that Viktor! It’s a Tuesday for goodness’ sake!” Yuuri whispered, scandalized and Viktor gave a loud, joyous sounding laugh, followed by a little cough.

“Oh Yuuri,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead, eyes crinkled with the force of his smile. “Never change.”


Again, find me on tumblr here, where I will mostly be screaming about sneezing stuff and Yuri on Ice at the moment.

Edited by RSB
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First off, thank you very much for this wonderful fic! (I am more a fan for Yuuri sick instead of Victor, but either one is still a blessing:D) Secondly, can I just say how beautiful your blog is. I'm very much enjoying it, so beware, I might reblog everything xD but I'm so so glad there's so many Yuri!!! On ice fans here on the forum. It makes me very very happy. Have a wonderful day! 

Edited by LiveToBeMe
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Oh wow this is so sweet!!  And poor Yuuri is right, so confused and worked up that it doesn't take much for him to burst into tears.  And of course he'd be even more observant of Viktor after episode 7 I mean holy shit!!  And Viktor- the smooth talking bastard really knows how to stear a conversation wherever he wants lol.  Trying to keep his cold on the DL because Yuuri's got a lot to worry about already <3

Great work!!  When I get off of work I'll check out your Tumblr because I need all the sneezy Yuuri and Viktor in my life :D

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I already reblogged this on tumblr but my tags aren't that great


This is an awesome story ok.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Yuuri is just so innocent in this one omg, legit I'm screaming right now cause my heart is melting.


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  • 4 years later...

“It’s a Tuesday for God’s sake.”


why did that slay me? it’s just so random and definitely something yuuri would say when victor’s embarrassing him

(obligatory acknowledgment of the fact that i’m digging up an old thread and shouldn’t be doing that but if y’all have a problem with it, maybe make a comments section so the topic isn’t updated every time someone wants to compliment or critique the author?)

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