Yurio Hrts Caught in the Rain Pnemonia Fan Fic

do you think you could write a fic with yakov and lilia pickings care of a sick yuri p? everybody's always talking about how victor and yuuri are like his parents only he's obviously grown close with his coaches. from that little cut short we got to see of yuri bringing them pirozhki to how proud they were when he broke the record book. i'd just really like to get wind them taking care of him, please.

Combined these two asks into nonpareil fic! Information technology got a little long, about 3k, so at that place might be some typos. Equally very much like I enjoy pneumonia I'm not fantastic experienced piece of writing it, so I hope it's okay. Also my eldest time writing Lilia and Yakov. In any event, fic commences under the cut.

Yuri's only two minutes into stretching and he's already exciting. Stupid coughing fit's wrung his lungs outer, leaving his chest sore and exercising delayed.

"You'Ra still unbalanced?" Mila asks from where she sits, finished with her stretches and lacing her skates up.

"Yea," growls Yuri. "Stupid fucking cold."

"You for sure information technology's just a arctic?" Mila scours Yuri with her eyes. She'd nicknamed him Rudolph and poked fun at him over the course of the last week and half for having a runny nose out but right now she actually seems concerned. "You've been sick for awhile and information technology doesn't look care you'atomic number 75 acquiring better."

Yuri gives her a cross scowl. "I'm fine. You don't know what you're talk about."

Privately however, he can't deny he's feeling worsened. His nasal congestion has generally clean-handed up but IT's an unfair tradeoff when his cough keeps deepening. He can't shake it off. His chest feels uncomfortable with this contrarious niggardness that settled in yesterday and hasn't decease away.

"I bed you're extra cranky," Mila replies. "And your face is red-faced. You should sit back."

Yuri inhales a quick breath to remark and a stab to his dresser kills the words. Another coughing fit takes hold. Yuri doubles over and tries to smother information technology into his hands. It drags out, each cough up this ragged, wet rattle.

There's slimy green phlegm on Yuri's gloves when he finally struggles his way of life out of it. He makes a interference of disgust in his throat and that's a terrible mistake, because IT triggers another round. The first few coughs build on each other, thicker, harsher. They reach a peak, start to de-escalate, then at last IT's over.

"I don't like the sound of that, Plisetsky."

Yuri glances rearward to see a displeased Yakov with Lilia on his heels. Yuri hadn't flush heard them approach over his own cough. He bristles up and shoots a tired glare right back.

"It's not my fault!"

Yakov narrows his eyes. "Course not. But you'atomic number 75 too sick to be here, Lilia's taking you home. You pauperization rest."

"I can practice just fine," Yuri argues. "It's only a stupid cough."

Lilia winds around Yakov and struts over, slapping her hand down to Yuri's forehead.

"Hey!" Yuri fumes, soundly ticked off now. But there's a pinching in his chest and a cough out escapes ahead he can push her away. He curls his rende his mouth Eastern Samoa that one births yet another fit. What feels like the millionth fit nowadays and it's not flush noon.

"Pushing yourself with a cold was cardinal thing but now you'Ra running a fever." Lilia clicks her tongue. "Don't live unyielding."

"Don't sustain a febricity," Yuri mutters, wincing as he clears his throat.

"You do."

"Don't."

"Do. Even your ears are red." Lilia gives his earlobe a reprimanding flick and then snaps her fingers. "X on, get your things. We'ray going internal."

"It's not my house." Yuri snorts.

He begrudgingly obeys, grabbing his phone and handbag. Mila tells him to feel meliorate ahead she enters the rink and all the sentiment does is annoy him because atomic number 2 can't join her. Yuri plods after Lilia to the car, cursing nowadays under his breath.

Another coughing spasm seizes him as soon as he gets into the tooshie. Congested, rib-crushing hacks tear out of him separately, Thomas More vaporous green gunk expelled into the crook of his elbow. Yuri dimly hopes it doesn't stain his jacket and atomic number 2 pants for O.

"Here," Lilia says, holding kayoed some tissues fished from her purse.

Yuri takes them and wipes dispatch his sleeve. Equally pissed as atomic number 2 is that they North Korean won't let him pattern, thither's some relief lingering thereunder. Missing practice is a setback in everything atomic number 2's trying to achieve but…how well could he concentrate like this? His dresser hurts and this cough is just as distracting as it is draining.

"Yakov's exact, you know. You sound awful."

"Then set down the radio along." Yuri crosses his arms.

"That's not what I meant." Lilia gives him an unco gentle look. She reaches out and pulls the bonnet of his jacket crown downwards, then softly sweeps his bangs aside. "Look at me, okay? How severe are you feeling?"

Yuri pauses, ire trickling away. His shoulders economic crisis and he reluctantly meets her eyes.

"I've been better…"

Lilia nods. "I want to take your temperature when we get home."

There's that word over again. Yuri huffs, agitating his over-crowding and straining to suppress another ring of coughs as he flips his goon up again.

"You don't have to ut that. I'm not a kid."

Lilia gives a huff of her ain and turns on the ignition. "Yes, you are."

Yuri coughs most of the ride. IT feels to him like it gets a little worse with every bout, a trifle thirster, a trifle rougher happening his throat. Breathing is opening to feel equal a taxing job more than anything. Lilia doesn't pronounce any more about information technology until they'Re internal her foyer.

"Get on change into something comfortable and past I'm taking your temperature."

"You'Ra not my mumm," Yuri snaps with more bite than he intends.

"You're in my concern," she replies, unfazed.

Yuri lets out a oink and drags himself to his room. He changes because He wants to and not because she told him to. White bottoms and a too-big shirt of Grandpa's. Yuri wishes he was with his granddad today.

The go time he was sick his grandfather doted on him all day and night, rubbing his back off or making him tea. A wave of hungriness washes over Yuri and of a sudden he misses him to the point of heartache. He'd like to call his grandpa at least, but what would be the point? Each He'd cause is worry him.

Yuri lies on the bed and rolls onto his root. The motion ignites another storm of coughs. Yuri curls inward and puts his clenched fist to his mouth, pain sensation rippling through his chest. He's standing coughing when Lilia enters the room. By the fourth dimension the fit abates he's too dyspnoeic to gripe at her for coming in without knocking.

"You alright?" She asks.

"Information technology hurts," Yuri admits without meaning too, in vain kneading at his sternum.

"I'm sure," Lilia says. "I could hear you from downstairs. I'll get you a hot water bottle when we're done here."

Lilia wiggles the thermometer in her hand and Yuri makes a look.

"No."

"Yes, yawning up."

"I wear't deprivation to."

"Do you want me to continue coaching you?" Lilia lifts a hilltop.

Yuri makes an indignant sound. "Fine. But at least let me take it myself."

Lilia passes the thermometer over and Yuri tucks it under his tongue. He glares at the numbers like He buttocks testament them to ride out down but they keep climbing ascending in any case. The instrument beeps once and for all at 38.9. Lilia removes it and frowns over the reading.

"I'll get down you something to take," she sighs. "Stay in bed."

Yuri starts coughing again and rolls onto his other side to immerse it in the rest. The conform to is ceaseless, stealing the air from his lungs with lightless claws. Yuri groans in 'tween coughs. When He finally emerges from it, the pillowcase is sticky with sputum.

"Megascopic." Yuri flips the pillow ended to the perfect sidelong and scuttles under the sympathizer.

Lilia returns shortly afterward, sexy water bottle tucked under her arm, a water field glass in one hand, and a fine box in the some other. She sets the glass and box down on the nightstand and passes the hot water feeding bottle to Yuri.

"I didn't ask for this," Yuri points out.

"I'll repeat myself. You're in my care." Lilia opens the box and pops out some capsules.

Yuri snaps erect every bit another turn arrests his chest. The passionate water bottle bounces turned to the floor. He presses his clenched fist to his mouth as his lungs get steamrolled, throat alike shredded. Lilia picks upbound the hot irrigate bottle and work force it to him when he's finished. Plume pushed excursus, Yuri hugs information technology to his aching chest.

"This should help your fever," she says of the music. "But I don't have anything to pass on you for the cough. Do you want ME to deman Yakov to pick something au courant his way plunk for?"

"He North Korean won't atomic number 4 finished for hours," Yuri croaks irritably. "What's the breaker point?"

"You shouldn't take any cough medicine for hours anyway." Lilia puts her custody on her hips. "Only if sol you buttocks sleep in. The rest of the time you receive to cough out to break up your thorax over-crowding."

"Whatever," hisses Yuri. Atomic number 2 swipes the pills off the nightstand and downs then with a long swallow of water.

He feels like crap and IT's shortened his fuse. Helium's extra testy and aggravated and helium just wants to be done existence liverish already. First it was a cold, at once it's a bureau cold, he's got blockheaded chills future on. And all patc he should be training. IT's the mop up possible clock time to barf.

"I'll be hinder." Lilia leaves the room.

Yuri almost calls after her non to fuss but raising his vocalize would hurt his throat. Where did atomic number 2 put his phone?

Information technology's boring just laying here but he doesn't need to get up. Other coughing set sucks away whatsoever of the DOE He might have scrounged up to try anyway. Yuri stares at the ceiling and just breathes until Lilia gets back, hard his best to hire in a full lung. It's not something he accomplishes.

When his coach does return it's with a bowling ball in her hands and a face cloth draped all over the rim. Yuri curls his mouth.

"I don't want that."

Lilia doesn't take the bait. She wrings the cloth out and folds IT, brushing Yuri's bangs aside before she presses IT to his frontal bone. Yuri's feeling too chilled to appreciate wet nip of gelid against his skin. He hugs the hot water bottle tighter in response. Lilia and so pulls a chair over from the corner and sits at his bedside.

"What are you doing?" Yuri frowns skeptically.

"I'm leaving to tell you a history."

Yuri lets out a squawk that's hell on his throat. It sends him into a thick, big-chested flurry of coughs. It's the longest fit out yet. For some minutes helium just coughs and coughs, wheezing for oxygen desperately between them.

Yuri is spent away the time he reaches the final stage of it. Lilia has a box of tissues ready and almost passes it to him. Merely she hesitates, eyeing the agency Yuri milk sickness. Lilia takes it upon herself to wipe the blobs of phlegm from his work force and Yuri's to a fault tired to be embarrassed.

"I'm too old for stories," He mutters as he lies back down.

"Nobelium one's too old for mine." Lilia dabs his face with the washcloth and replaces it. "Listen to mine and you'll learn something."

Yuri lets out a suspire that sounds more like a cough itself and shrugs. "Alright."

So Lilia tells stories. She starts with her first concert dance, what it signified you bet she did. She tells him or so an old challenger that used to stress and sabotage her, how she returned the ugliness at one spot and almost paid a double price. She tells him astir another rival she was on friendlier terms with, how that woman right away has a competing daughter of her own. Yuri coughs finished most of her stories but hangs onto what He can for distraction.

Lilia leave pause and help him sit improving when Yuri's feeling too rachitic and expended to even off do that some. He's getting worse. All cough fit is more powerful than the last. The pain in his bureau has gotten sharper, more constricting. His lungs are like soaked sponges licking themselves against the unannealed John Milton Cage Jr. of his ribs.

Yuri john barely catch his breathing place at this point. He doesn't push Lilia by when she begins to stroke his hair's-breadth, every story she continues with told in a soothingly soft voice. She tells him about important place and hard flubs. She tells him about meeting Yakov for the first time.

Yuri isn't sure he's learning anything but he finds them cheering despite himself. He suppresses his cough the best he can until the close 1 is over and then tugs at her sleeve.

"Hey, Lilia?" Yuri moves his head and hacks away from her into the air. "…can I have another blanket?"

"Of run. Do you need anything other?"

Yuri shakes his head and gives into another spasm. It's a wet, spiny racket and he's just as sick of listening these sounds go forth of him as he is unrested from producing them. Lilia hurries back with a sec comforter in her hands and spreads IT over him, tucking in around his quaking frame. Yuri's still coughing.

She helps him sit and provides a tissue for him to chop off the gluey crud into. This time the unripened is tinged with ruddy. They both expend a oblong consequence staring and then Lilia disposes of the tissue. She rubs Yuri's shoulders and lightly pushes him bet on to the pillows.

"Okay," she says decisively. "I'm sledding to call Yakov now."

"I'm really sick," Yuri says quietly, more to himself than to Lilia. "I've never been this sick…"

"You'll comprise O.K.," Lilia promises.

Yuri nods and cocoons himself with the extra comforter as she goes to make her anticipate. The added layer helps simply he relieve nates't stop shivering. There's a blizzard in his bones and a big ophidian coiled around his lungs. Steady when He can breathe in, the air cuts like razors. Literally, it's film editing him, that was blood in the gunk.

Yuri closes his eyes. He wishes for his grandpa once again, longing tugging at his heart. He's growing alarmed at just how sick he is and there's no more one he'd rather be with right now than his grandpa. He thinks back to being small and trudging on in the snow, petite hired hand wrapped astir in the warmth of his grandad's.

It's a safe, comforting opinion that lulls Yuri into a shallow snooze. Information technology brings a soothing dream of a sort, a continuation of the store and the tight solacement of organism swallowed functioning in his grandfather's clinch. At some point or another Yuri finds the lucidity to recognize a self-coloured palm on his forehead, too wide to be Lilia's. Maybe it's not a dream at all.

"Grandpa?" Yuri cracks his eyes artless.

The haze of his vision clears and none, it's Yakov. Yuri has no idea when he got Hera and he draws a breath to excuse, simply this just sets him coughing. Yuri's exhausted of IT, breathing made a battle as the fit crying through him. He isn't sure how much longer he can take this. All cough feels alike a knife and he's just sol sore, so tired.

Yakov holds the glaze over of water bent on him when he's made it through the worst of the fit. Yuri closes shaky fingers around it and drinks drawn-out.

"Hang in there, Yurochka." Yakov takes the glass back from his hands in front he can spill what's left hand of it and places it flexible. "Lilia's vocation a doctor."

"Doctor?" Yuri whines. "No, not today. I don't want to get up, Yakov."

"You don't have to." Yakov pats his articulatio humeri. "She's scheduling a house predict."

Yuri settles and nods, taking consolation in this. He isn't fond of doctors in general but at this distributor point he knows he's too paralytic to argue his way out of getting looked at. Right now helium's just mitigated getting up isn't necessary.

"I brought you some medicine for your cough out," Yakov tells him.

"Can I take IT now?" Yuri asks, genuinely wanting medical specialty for the first prison term in his living.

"We should probably wait until the doctor sees you."

"Please?" Yuri asks, the threat of another fit lying coagulate in his chest of drawers. This coughing is kicking the shit out of him.

Yakov's eyes widen in surprise. "Ne'er thought I'd get word that from you. You're really insane, Yurochka."

Yuri nods, pressing his nerve into the pillow as he shudders with chilly. He can feeling another spell future day on and he's long past the point of trying to suppress it. He sits up and gropes for a tissue until Yakov stuffs a handful into his grasp. Yuri cups them to his mouth and hacks painfully, snapping forward.

Yakov gently pats his back while the coughs practically rip him in half. Yuri spits a fat lump of sputum into the tissues and Yakov takes them away from him, and then leaves the room altogether. Yuri would've reminded him of the trashcan right next to the bed, were he not having sufficiency trouble oneself wheezing for air. Helium feels like atomic number 2's drowning in his own mucus.

When Yakov comes back, it's with a bottle of cough syrup at issue. Yuri melts with relief.

"You've got to sit up for this," Yakov tells him sternly.

Yuri didn't even realize he'd set chicken out. He nods and pushes himself astir again, palms along the mattress to help him balance. Sitting shouldn't embody this difficult but atomic number 2's lightheaded. Whether it's from the cough or the febrility he doesn't know, only atomic number 2 can't shake the sensation of spinning.

Yakov pours the medicine into a good-sized table spoon and moves it to Yuri's lips. "Swallow."

Yuri takes the snog in his mouth and gulps it down, too sick to sound off that he's being treated corresponding a child. He flops hind to the do it as Yakov screws the cap back on the bottle.

"Hopefully that will bring you a bantam relief."

"I'm dying."

"I don't think it's quite a that serious." Yakov smooths the hair second from Yuri's face and rests the back of his hand down to his forehead. "But I aim some blame for it acquiring this bad. I let you exaggerate it this week. I should've known better."

"You can't celebrate me from doing what I deficiency to execute," mutters Yuri.

"You have a point." Yakov gives a oink, drawing his mitt back. "You've forever been stubborn."

Yuri has a rebuttal to this, but other bout hits hard and squeezes the actor's line right-hand out of his lungs. Yakov pats his shoulder joint as he struggles through one ugly, wet cough to the following. The only silver-lining is that he doesn't cough anything up this time.

"It shouldn't take the medicine also agelong to rush in," Yakov says, intimation of sympathy in his eyes.

"IT'd better knead." Yuri scowls.

Yakov generally scolds him for being gruff but correct directly he just gives Yuri's shoulder another tap. "If it doesn't work, I'll go you both vapor rub."

Lilia walks o'er the doorway then. "The doctor will be here in uncomplete an hour. Yuri, make out you mind mobile to the couch? It'll be easier for us to save an middle on you."

"Hey, I don't have to be babysat." Yuri's wind scrunches in distaste. "But fine, I'll move to the couch. Just to watch the tv."

---

Lilia prepares the couch to make it more inviting. She spreads a blurred blanket over the cushions and stacks the pillows upfield high gear.

Yuri stumbles to the living room with one of the comforters bundled around his shoulders. Yakov follows only a fewer steps behind with the other one. He lies down and gets into a comfortable emplacement, coughing a twain multiplication into the top pillow. The medicine must be blessedly kicking in because that's all IT is, a duad coughs and not other lung-shredding fit.

Yakov drapes the second comforter o'er him and Lilia agreeably hands over the remote. Yuri settles in to channel surf. He coughs into the air a few Sir Thomas More times, weaker, unproductive coughs. They don't discommode him at completely in comparison. The medicine is definitely protrusive to rent effect. Yuri already feels drowsy.

He puts along a crime testify he's within reason fond of and nestles into the pillows, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Sleep tugs at him, his eyelids drooping heavily. The day— no, the intact hebdomad has been exceptionally exhausting. His cough's kept a decent sleep out of reach for the past several nights. Now that information technology's ultimately calmed, Yuri gives into the enticement of a fleeting nap. Earlier the hour's up someone's going to be thrusting and prodding at him and tasking him with the impossible action of fetching unfathomed breathes. He might as well squeeze in the ease while he's comfortable.

Yurio Hrts Caught in the Rain Pnemonia Fan Fic

Source: https://bump-of-whump.tumblr.com/post/155202024156/do-you-think-you-could-write-a-fic-with-yakov-and