A Fever Dream Come True (Yuri!!! On Ice)

[AdrianMarx]

I love this anime with all my being. I might continue this but I'm not sure. We shall see. I hope you enjoy!

 

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The thermometer he’d bought in a desperate rush at the local pharmacy beeped and Yuuri Katsuki whipped it out from under his tongue, staring at the number before throwing it to the ground in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. How was he supposed to concentrate out there with a 101 degree fever? As if the sight of Viktor Nikiforov gliding effortlessly across the ice in that tight spangly lycra didn’t already make him weak at the knees - now he had this fever to deal with on top of that.

Exhausted and frustrated, he sat down heavily on the toilet and let his head fall with a thunk onto the cool cubicle wall. He heard a burst of applause as the skater before him finished his routine. Yuuri hadn’t bothered watching. It wouldn’t be as good as Viktor’s.

It would be his turn soon. His head was spinning. He just wanted to sleep.

With a heavy sigh, Yuuri stood slowly and made his way back to the side of the rink. He watched as the stewards cleaned the ice. They’d be done any second and then it would be his turn.

There was a small screech of feedback from the microphone as there had been before every announcement made that day before a booming voice announced that Yuuri Katsuki would be the next, and final, skater of the competition. Taking a deep breath to calm his rattling nerves, Yuuri stepped onto the ice and glided to the middle of the rink where he stopped and finally breathed out.

He kept his eyes focused on his skates before breathing in again and lifting his arms above his head, one skate tucked behind the other, toe pick digging into the ice behind him.

The music started and so did Yuuri. He swung his front leg behind him into an arabesque and balanced solely on his other toe before collapsing onto the whole skate and pushing himself backwards, leaning down to brush the ice with his hand. And then he was off.

During his double loop jump, Yuuri felt a wave of dizziness wash over him which might seem normal considering he was spinning at quite an alarming rate a few feet above the ice but Yuuri knew it was something else even before he wobbled precariously on the landing. Still fighting the dizziness, he continued his backwards crossovers, arms gracefully swaying in front of him. But the ice seemed to be at an angle and Yuuri felt distinctly like he was going to be sick.

With a sharp scrape he came to a stop, changing direction before settling into a spin, bringing his free leg up behind him and arching his back to grab hold of the blade. He could feel himself starting to sweat, feel his head start to ache with the speed. He stopped the spin earlier than he’d planned. It was alright. Nobody would notice.

When a second sharp scrape, unplanned this time, saw him landing on his hip with a hard thud, Yuuri’s only thought was ...they might notice that.

When Yuuri didn’t immediately get up, the crowd started to mumble and grumble in their seats and the noise grated on Yuuri’s sore head but he couldn’t see straight. He didn’t trust himself to stand. He didn’t think he’d make it to the edge without another horrendously embarrassing moment. He couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head, to see thousands of eyes upon him knowing they’d just seen him fall. He was good enough to be here. He deserved to be here. But now he’d lost his chance to prove it to them.

The music stopped.

He couldn’t get up.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri, excuse the pun, froze. He knew that voice. He’d spent years listening to that voice in interviews and acceptance speeches. He couldn’t possibly be mistaken and yet it felt impossible.

He saw the pristine white skates briefly in his line of vision before they were replaced by a pair of knees. There was a hand on top of his, warming him. He looked up.

Viktor’s eyes were beautifully blue and, though Yuuri couldn’t quite focus on his face, he was quite sure he looked concerned.

“Are you alright?” He asked, tilting his head minutely to the left. “You took quite a tumble.”

Viktor spoke perfect English though his accent was strong. Yuuri opened his mouth, tried to speak, but his gaze unwillingly moved beyond his idol to the chattering crowd behind, gawking at him, some standing to get a better view of his humiliation. His eyes filled with unbidden tears, cheeks flushing red.

Viktor squeezed his hand, picking it up from the ice to hold it in his. “How many of them do you reckon even know how to skate?” He asked, smiling. “Their judgement means nothing.”

Yuuri tried a small smile before the urge to be sick resurfaced, forcing the air out of his lungs. Viktor moved closer.

“If I help you to stand, will you allow me to take you somewhere more private?”

Yuuri couldn’t breathe now for an entirely different reason. Private. Somewhere private with Viktor Nikiforov. Hadn’t it been the subject of his daydreams since the moment he first saw the man skate?

Gently, Viktor helped him to his feet. Yuuri felt his knees wobble and he wasn’t sure it was entirely to do with the fever. Oh, the fever. He didn’t want Viktor to view him as weak. He wanted Viktor to see him as an equal. He wanted to be in his league.

But, then again, the thought of being fussed over and cared for by possibly the most gorgeous man he’d ever known wasn’t without its merits. He imagined himself, feverish, Viktor gently dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth. He imagined Viktor sitting with him, letting Yuuri rest his pained head against his shoulder, one arm around Yuuri’s shivering body. These thoughts so consumed him that he barely noticed they’d reached the edge until Viktor removed his arm from around Yuuri’s waist - !!! - and took hold of his hands instead to guide him through the transition between ice and carpet.

Faced with the task of walking, Yuuri’s legs became immensely unco-operative, causing Viktor to return to supporting him more closely. Yuuri found himself leaning heavily against his sturdy hero who guided him through the common room reserved for skaters and coaches to a small corner at the back where Viktor’s things were.

The room was almost empty save for them and one other skater who was in the process of lacing up their skates again. Yuuri recognised him as the skater who was favoured to come second, meaning he would be asked to return to the ice soon for the announcements and presentations. It hit Yuuri with a pang when he realised that Viktor, the clear winner, would also be forced to leave him.

Exhausted and seated at last, Yuuri fell forward into a harsh cough, both hands clamped over his mouth while Viktor, kneeling in front of him, kept his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders to keep him steady. Yuuri’s glassy eyes found Viktor’s and for a moment he felt pure bliss before he registered the ache in his chest and the building pressure behind his eyes. Viktor’s hand against his forehead, however, was a pleasant relief.

“You are burning up,” he said as Yuuri closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall behind him. “Please stay here. I will fetch a cloth for your head.”

Before Yuuri had a chance to ask him to stay, not that his starstruck voice was likely to let him, Viktor had disappeared. Yuuri didn’t expect him to come back. It wouldn’t take long to set up the podium. Soon enough, Viktor would be on the ice again, receiving his well-earned first place. Yuuri had desperately hoped to be on that podium with him but here he was instead, sick and feverish and utterly humiliated.

Ettsch! Hh...hetsichh!

Yuuri covered his sneezes with the crook of his elbow, sniffling and wiping at his nose with the cuff of his costume. After all, it wasn’t like he could possibly be humiliated further today. Closing his eyes again, he let out a single dry cough. If his coach could see him now, he was certain he’d be dead. His posture was atrocious.

When he heard footsteps, he assumed it was the other skater leaving again but the sudden cool against his forehead made him open his eyes. He...he’d come back. But that didn’t make any sense. Yuuri could hear the announcements being made, could hear the crowd applauding and cheering as the second and third place titles were awarded. But Viktor was still there, gently adjusting the damp cloth on Yuuri’s forehead with a small crinkle of concern between his eyebrows.

“Viktor, you’ll miss-” he began unsteadily in broken Russian, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. Viktor’s lips curled up into a smile and he laid one hand gently on Yuri’s burning cheek, eyes ablaze with what looked like affection but Yuuri blamed his interpretation on the fever. With a soft cough, he tried again, this time unwilling to let Viktor Nikiforov’s mesmerising smile catch him off guard. “They’re announcing the results.”

Viktor’s smile changed but only in his eyes. Instead of the perceived affection, Yuuri saw what was perhaps...admiration? He blinked. No. It was the fever. There was no way Viktor Nikiforov, international champion, felt any sort of admiration for plain old Yuuri who had just fallen in front of thousands of spectators and TV cameras.

And yet…

“Results don’t matter,” Viktor said softly and Yuuri felt a shiver shoot down his spine. Viktor’s Russian was beautiful. Yuuri had never quite mastered the language but it had been Viktor’s smooth, charming voice which had drawn him to it in the first place. “You matter.”

You matter.

Yuuri could scarcely breathe.

You matter.

“Yuuri?” Viktor said quietly, switching to English once again in case Yuuri had misunderstood. “You matter.”

And that was roughly when the fever took over entirely, leaving Yuuri’s vision blurred and fuzzy until he finally found himself fast asleep or perhaps just unconscious. It didn’t matter. Viktor was there. And Yuuri mattered.

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

AAHHHHHH OH MY GOD IM SO GLAD YOU POSTED THIS!!!!!!!!

I don't even know where to begin!! The skating imagery is perfect. Caring!Viktor Im just hajdjdjdjdhd about omg. Ugh omg I love it!!

[LeapYearKisses]

Perfect!  This is wonderful!  I love the atmosphere, the descriptions of Yuuri skating, how you have him speaking a little Russian at the end, how gentle Victor is. AHHHH   I'd be very happy if you chose to continue this, but even as-is it's a beautiful little snapshot. Thank you for sharing!

[Juto]

This. Was. So. Damn. CUUUUTE!!! 

((And I don't even know the show -oops)) 

I adored how you described Yuuri's skating routine. Very vivid and expressive. So easy to picture it in my head. 

*sets up tent and makes plans to find out what this show is, hoping there will be a continuation at some point* 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Lovely imagery and the scene on the ice after Yuuri's fall was wonderful. This works well as an introduction or as a stand alone. I agree that I would not mind a continuation.  

[san kyu]

Oh my goodness this was SO GOOD! Thank you so much for sharing! Poor Yuuri, this sad tiny child with all of his rage and insecurities. Caring!Victor is also just a doll. This fic is golden~

[heckyeahsneezes]

Oh my gosh, I almost fell off my bed when I saw a yuri on ice fic. That was amazing!! I hope you write more 

[Juto]

SECOND COMMENT CUZ I HAVE NOW WATCHED THE SHOW AND OMG IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW AND ITS SO WONDERFUL AND MY HEART IS A LUMP OF FEELS AND AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

[WishUponAUnicorn]

Oh my goodness that was so adorable you should definelty continue this!

[Anmeroth]

This whole story was so cute and perfectly paced! I love your description of the characters, especially knowing that you only wrote this after three episodes, wow!!

If you ever decide to continue this fanfic or start a new one after having seen all twelve episodes, I would love to check it all out!!