Born To Make History (boyxboy)

Chapter Eleven: Maladie

Yuri didn't hear from Victor one day the next week, and where a few weeks ago he hadn't minded, he was now worried. These days without fail he woke up to the chime of a good morning text and couldn't fall asleep without a goodnight one. They were supposed to be going out for dinner that evening, but since he hadn't heard from him in almost 24 hours he didn't know whether their plans were still on.
'Man up and call him,' Lara leaned over his shoulder. 'You've been staring at your phone all day.'
He smiled at thanked her, having needed that extra push of courage to do it. It went through to voicemail, but just as he was about to speak Victor picked up.
'Hi,' his voice was low and croaky and he didn't sound at all well. 'Who is it?'
'Yuri,' this made his heart all jumbly. 'Are you okay? You haven't been returning my messages and I know it's really clingy to call, but I was worried and-'
'Yuri, Yuri, it's fine!' Victor assured him. 'Is it okay if I take a rain check on tonight? I feel awful.'
'Of course,' Yuri couldn't keep the anxious undertones from his voice. 'Do you need anything?'
'I'll be fine-'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes, I-'
'What's actually wrong?'
'You don't want to know.'
'Victor,' Yuri took a firm tone, which apparently surprised Victor into honesty.
'I only woke up half an hour ago and since then I've thrown up four times. I think it's a virus or something... I would push through it, but I don't want you to catch it.'
'Don't be stupid,' Yuri chided, coming off a little harsher than he intended, but he ran with it anyway. 'If you're feeling ill, don't be worrying about me and whether we have plans, concentrate on getting better. I'll see you in half an hour, okay?'
'What?'
'You think I'm leaving you alone when you're that sick?'
'No, you'll catch it!'
'I don't care. I'm coming and you're too ill to stop me.'

Victor was even paler than usual when he answered the door, but Yuri was nonetheless struck by how good-looking he was as ever. He was wearing only a pair of designer trackies, his toned chest revealed in all its muscular glory. Suddenly there was a snap from behind them and Yuri whipped round to see some kid with a phone, her face bright red.
'Jesus Christ,' he growled, dashing inside and slamming the door behind himself. 'Do your fans camp outside your house?'
'Not many know I'm here,' Victor shook his head. 'The press do. The odd person will recognise the place, so I get one or two.' He swayed precariously on his feet and Yuri darted forwards, dropping his bag quickly to the ground so he could hold Victor up just long enough to help him stumble to his bed. He drew the covers up around him, bending down to kiss his forehead and wincing when he felt how hot it was.
'You wait there,' he patted his cheek.
'I'm not exactly going anywhere,' Victor grumbled, the frustration evident in his visage. Yuri returned with a cold compress and a glass of water. He sat on the bed and put the compress on his forehead, stroking his hair and intermittently passing him the glass of water and rubbing his back when he sat up to drink it. When his forehead no longer felt fiery, he told him to get some rest and left him to sleep for a while.
Yuri decided that as he slept, he would deal with the pile of dishes on the side of the sink, because he had nothing better to do and may as well make himself useful while he was there. As he was stood there scrubbing plates, he looked around the kitchen. Just like the rest of the house, there were no pictures or anything to suggest who Victor was and what his life was like. He often wondered what kind of life Victor led when he wasn't around. Did he have friends over, go shopping like normal people? Or did he have to hide away because he was famous? He was often pictured in magazines hanging out with other famous people, but did he not have any normal friends other than Yuri? It made a huge difference as to who he was if so. Constantly being surrounded by people who also constructed superficial lives to impress others would just force him to put on a front like everyone else, and the press were so quick to judge and fast to pounce on any perceived imperfection that to show any kind of flaw could be fatal, so was it really any wonder that he never showed negative emotion? His bitch of an agent most likely wasn't helping matters either. He hears footsteps behind him and dropped the plate in the sink, his hands flying to his chest.
'I crept up on you again, sorry,' Victor looked a little less green. 'Why is it that you scare so easily?'
'I'm a nervous person,' Yuri thought it was obvious enough.
'Okay, but you jump at everything that moves. That's not just a personality thing, is it?'
'Uh, when I was younger I had hearing problems so I could never hear people walking up to me, meaning I was always shocked when they were suddenly just there. I guess it just stuck.'
'Can you hear now?'
'All fixed. How are you feeling?' He picked the plate back up and started scouring it once more.
'Better. You don't have to do that.'
'I know. I just wanted to do something.'
'Can't you just come and sleep with me?'
Yuri dropped the plate again.
'No!' Victor rolled his eyes, getting a huge sense of deja vu. 'Just come lie with me.'
'You only had to say it like that...'
'I was hoping I'd get lucky.'
Yuri smiled at this, no longer so scandalised by these jokes. After all, he had slept with him, and it had actually been great.
He let Victor drag him into his bed and curled up against him, resting his head on his stomach.
'Yuri?' Victor tapped him on the shoulder.
'Yeah?'
'Let's go to Japan together this weekend.'
'Sure,' Yuri knew that he was sick and slightly delusional and he would soon forget all about this. It wasn't as if they could just jet off to Tokyo for the weekend as if it were a date.