Jump to content
Sneeze Fetish Forum

A Family - Yuri!!! on Ice (Viktor) SS for truth [1/2]


Recommended Posts

Ahh, here is part 1 of my secret santa for @truth eeeee i hope this is okay for you!!!!


The news about Makkachin couldn’t have come at a worse time. Tomorrow, Yuuri would be skating for his place at the GPF and Viktor was torn between flying back to Japan to be with his beloved dog in what might be his last moments and staying in Russia to support the boy who had absolutely stolen his heart. Not to mention that his head had been pounding for two days and his throat had been scratchy and pained since that morning.

He tried to argue with Yuuri at first.

“Viktor, you have to go back to Japan!” Yuuri’s voice became more shrill and urgent every time Viktor refused, piercing through Viktor’s throbbing headache.

With a pained sigh, Viktor tucked a gloved hand under his fringe to rub at his sore forehead, thankful that it could now be passed off as a sign of stress. Viktor had always been somewhat clingy when he was sick. Right now, he was stuck between wanting to cling to Yuuri and wanting to cuddle Makkachin who had comforted him through dozens of colds over the years.

“Yuuri, I can’t leave you now,” Viktor replied but there was little fight in his voice. “Not when you’re so close.”

Yuuri started to say something else but Viktor’s attention was elsewhere. His eyes fell on his former coach, looking grumpy as usual as he berated Yurio about something but the young skater looked disinterested as always. Viktor paid him little mind as he strode towards them, reaching out to take Yakov by the shoulders.

“Can you be Yuuri’s coach tomorrow? Just for one day?” He asked with a desperation he hadn’t displayed in front of Yakov since he’d been a teenager. The shocked sounds from all around him barely registered before he went on, feeling small and vulnerable. “Makkachin’s...he might be dying. I have to...I have to see him.”

Though the look on Yakov’s face could never be described as soft, this one was definitely less harsh than usual. It bordered on understanding. After all, Viktor had had that dog almost ten years now. The damn thing had never stopped running all round the rink when it was a puppy. Anybody could see how important the annoying little fluffball was to him. Yakov might have had a lot to say about Viktor as a coach - and abandoning his student is pretty much top of the list of Things Coaches Should Never Do - but he could sympathise and so he agreed gruffly and barked at Yura to take the pork cutlet bowl back to the hotel, ignoring the indignant protests which immediately spilled from his student’s mouth.

After swinging by Viktor’s hotel room to collect his suitcase, Yakov accompanied him to the airport. As they sat in the back of the taxi, Yakov listened to the tight congestion in Viktor’s breathing with a frown.

“Working yourself to the bone again, Vitya?” He asked casually and for once Viktor didn’t try to play the fool. Surprisingly, he simply sighed (making his crackling breath all the more pronounced) and looked down at his hands which were trembling in his lap. He was afraid. Yakov sighed in response and said, “You’ll never be a coach to that boy if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Viktor smiled but it was hollow. Yakov recognised it as his paparazzi smile.

“He doesn’t need to be worrying about me when he’s trying to seduce me,” he said humourlessly so Yakov didn’t laugh. “He’s- he’s too fragile.”

Yakov grunted. “Of course he is. Skaters’ hearts are fragile as glass,” he said, repeating the old phrase he’d told Viktor time and time again and garnering a real, albeit small, smile this time.

And then, in an almost fatherly manner, he placed his hand on Viktor’s knee. Viktor looked up in shock, eyes searching Yakov’s face for an explanation. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Whatever happens to that mutt,” Yakov went on, “don’t let it shatter yours.”

Viktor ducked his head, biting back a flow of tears which fought to spill over. And then the taxi driver told them the price and the moment was quickly forgotten.


Viktor settled himself in his last minute plane seat with a weary kind of relief. He was exhausted. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His stomach hurt from worrying about his beloved poodle. If he could manage to sleep through this flight, it would truly be a blessing. But, of course, he had very little luck.

The pressure in his head only built as they climbed above the clouds and the pressure in his ears was practically excruciating. Even after they popped, he was left feeling full and congested behind his eyes from ear to ear. And then it started.


One elegant finger tucked neatly beneath his nose, Viktor bobbed forward to stifle the sneeze as quietly as he could manage. The pressure was both painful and itchy simultaneously and Viktor rubbed at either sides of his nose in irritation before he was ducking forwards again, finger pressing hard against his septum.

eh’tshh! hh’tishh! h’h’tshngx!

With a congested sniffle, he plucked a tissue from his Makkachin plushie box and gave his nose an unproductive blow. But the tickle wouldn’t be abated and it itched and tickled no matter how hard he wriggled his nose before he had to clamp the tissue over his nose and stifle another few sneezes almost silently against his palm. With each stifle, he felt his headache grow. The woman beside him had shuffled further away from him and was sitting right on the edge of her seat. But Viktor couldn’t find it in himself to care much. Truthfully, he felt dreadful. The pressure in his sinuses wouldn’t abate and the bothersome itch waxed and weaned for several minutes before he was able to coax another sneeze out, fanning desperately at his pink-tipped nose.

ehh’tishhoo! heng’tsh! tisksh! itsch!

Viktor groaned softly, blowing his nose hard but achieving nothing aside from clogging up his ears again. Exhausted and quite fed up already, Viktor flopped back in his chair and shut his eyes, mouth open just a little to let him breathe. His nose couldn’t seem to decide whether it was going to run or just remain horribly congested and, in the end, seemed to settle on doing both at once. Viktor found himself lifting his tissue to swipe at his nose every few seconds or so, becoming more and more aware of his sniffling and snorting as the journey eased into its second hour.

Leaving his latest tissue crumpled in his lap, Viktor lifted both hands to press two fingers into each of his temples, rubbing circles in a vain attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He massaged carefully along his browbone, letting his thumbs work at his cheeks while his fingers trailed across his forehead and into his hair. On their journey around his aching face, his fingers brushed against the tip of his nose which had him fumbling for another tissue as the tickle flared up with a sudden intensity unlike anything he’d felt before.

The sneezes burst from him unstifled and he could practically hear them echoing around the plane.

ehHHtisHHEW! hikyISHHew! ihh...ikishHEW! tekkishh’uhh!

Viktor only managed a few breaths of relief before his lungs faltered in his chest and he found himself doubled over his his seat, coughing into his knees with tears in his eyes. He stayed that way for a minute after it was over, chest heaving and always feeling like he might be on the brink of another gut-wrenching coughing fit. He only lifted his head when he heard a bright female voice ask, “Refreshments?”

He bought a bottle of beer in the hopes it would take the edge off his misery. He sipped it slowly, somewhat sadistically enjoying the warm burn in the back of his throat. When it was finished, he closed his eyes and leaned back, Makkachin plushie hugged tight against his aching chest.

He didn’t sleep the whole way there.


Mari greeted him off the plane which wasn’t a surprise. He’d received a text from Yuuri while he’d been checking in to let him know that someone would collect him from the airport. Viktor hadn’t responded with anything more than a less than three, emotionally unable to handle anything more than that.

Before he could say a word, Mari said, “Makkachin’s going to be fine,” and Viktor felt his knees practically buckle under him. He felt Mari place a hand on his arm and heard her ask if he was alright but he was so relieved he could barely draw breath to reassure her.

Makkachin was okay.

Mari led him to the car, relaying what the vet had said all the way while Viktor nodded anxiously, taking in only about half of it. His brain wasn’t currently wired for English. He’d been worrying himself sick in Russian for hours, after all.

“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “If you let me know how much the bill was, I’ll-”

“No,” Mari interrupted quickly. “No, we covered it. After everything you’ve done for Yuuri- it’s the least we can do.”

Viktor was stunned. This was too much. He wanted to protest but his brain had switched back to Russian again and all he could manage was a confused squeak as the reality of the situation sank in. The Katsuki family had paid the vet bill for his dog because of what he’d done for Yuuri.

Yuuri. Thinking about him just sparked Viktor’s anxiety again. He shouldn’t have left Yuuri alone. Damn it, what an idiot. This wasn’t how a coach should beha-

“I’m sorry.”

Viktor’s snapped his head round to look at Mari, finding her looking forlorn while she shifted the car into drive. He was about to ask what she meant but something in her expression stopped him. He was rewarded for his silence.

“It was my fault. I left the buns out for Vicchan and-”

Viktor shot her a rare genuine smile. “It’s alright. I’m just glad he’s okay. He means a lot to me.”

Mari smiled back though hers looked wistful and she kept her eyes on the road ahead. “He’s been good for Yuuri too. He was really broken up about Vicchan. Having Makkachin around- it’s helped.”

“Good,” Viktor said, feeling the heaviness settle in his chest again.

They were quiet for the rest of the journey, Viktor's wheezing breath and the rumbling of the engine filling the silence.


Viktor found himself bowled over the moment he arrived at the inn, thrilled tears in his eyes as Makkachin licked excitedly at his face, paws on his chest. He laughed, scratching behind the dog’s ears with as much energy as he had, muttering softly in Russian about how much he loved the misbehaving little furball. But his laughter quickly caught in his chest and he had to push Makkachin off and roll to the side, pushing himself to sit on one hip with a hand on the floor to support him.

Makkachin rested his head in Viktor’s lap, whining while his master coughed until a few tears spilled down his cheeks. Viktor felt like his chest had been bound with thick rope. He couldn’t quite get a breath deep enough to feel satisfied without triggering another attack.

“Oh, Vicchan,” Hiroko’s hand came to rest on his back. Embarrassed, Viktor swiped at the tears on his face. “You don’t sound well.”

Viktor wanted to look up at her and smile and tell her that it was nothing but a bit of a cold but he was too exhausted to do much but shake his head pathetically. Hiroko offered her hand to help Viktor up from the floor which he gratefully accepted, feeling Makkachin settle comfortably by his ankles as though he hadn’t just scared Viktor half to death.

The look on Hiroko’s face was intensely motherly as she reached up to gently feel Viktor’s cheek. She smiled.

“Nothing a hot bath won’t cure, hm?” She said with a wink which had Viktor’s cheeks flushing. It was one thing to be suggestive with Yuuri but it was quite another to have Yuuri’s mother do the same to him! She laughed, taking Viktor’s arm and leading him towards the Onsen. “Let me know when you’re done. I’ll have some hot soup ready for you when you’re finished. Take your time.”

Viktor thanks her, a small smile on his lips as he makes his way to the Onsen. This is what home feels like.

Link to comment

Oh my gosh, this is the first time I've been honestly hoping for a Victor sickfic to be continued. You used the part in this series perfectly. The stress and the fatigue catching up to him and making him horribly ill. It was so well described to fit his character that I'm actually really hoping you'll continue this :notworthy: It's okay if you don't, I'm just really enjoying this haha.  Good job! :D 

Link to comment

Oh daaaaamn this is awesome. Viktor + one of my fave types of coughing in a well written fic? Please.


Link to comment

oohhh my gosh :blushsmiley: i was blushing the whole time i read this! i've read your other fics and i really love them so i'm so honored that you're writing for me?? ahhhhh. this one is soo good. i love airplane scenarios?? they're just too good. thank you soooooooo much!! and poor viktor he's so sick at least he has his puppy with him and the fact that yuuri's family is taking care of him is the sweetest thing ever, i love that kind of good fluff :heart: i can't wait for the next part!!

Link to comment
  • 2 weeks later...

This is so beautiful and full of longing that it honestly pains me-- I especially love Yakov's casual knowing tenderness, and cannot wait for more!

Link to comment


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...