For Sick Days! 24: Anywhere but Here! … Too late. Originally posted to sneezehq and now being uploaded here. This is set pre-series, during Yuuri's first time on the Grand Prix circuit. Content warning for vomit. Enjoy!

Yuuri cannot believe his luck. Seriously, what are the odds of ending up on the same flight as the Victor Nikiforov on his connecting flight from St. Petersburg to Paris? (Okay, now that he thinks about it, the odds are actually pretty reasonable.)

Did Yuuri book his trip just so that he would connect through St. Petersburg, where his world-famous idol lives? Perhaps. And now, having actually gotten a glimpse of Victor's glorious silver locks and dazzling blue eyes, Yuuri feels that his decision was justified.

He'd been able to overhear most of Victor's conversation with the paparazzi and the flight staff before boarding (and Mari had insisted that his Russian lessons were a waste of time!), not because he's casually stalking Victor or anything; actually, it's because there was a little bit of drama over Victor's seating arrangements. The Russian skater had originally booked a first class ticket, but the staff was showing him as booked for coach. There's a bit of back and forth between the two sides before Victor agrees to settle for the seat in coach that he's been assigned.

Yuuri can't help but notice the way his and Victor's seats are situated-they're right across the aisle from each other! You should at least try to say hi, or wish him luck while you have the opportunity, Yuuri tells himself. His inner voice sounds an awful lot like Pichit for some reason.

He's so immersed in his debate on what to say that he almost misses his cue to board! Yuuri flushes as he snaps out of his daze, scrambling to grab his boarding pass and brushing his dark bangs out of his face. He hurries down the hallway leading to the plane and settles into his seat across from Victor, trying his best to not seem flustered or nervous. He can't resist shooting little glances across the aisle at Victor whenever he thinks that his idol isn't looking.

Once they take off and have been in the air for a while, Yuuri starts to notice that a couple things seem amiss. For one, Victor looks paler than usual-and Yuuri would consider himself an expert in how Victor's face is supposed to look. He's also swallowing convulsively, and his shoulders seem tense, and he's not even reading a book or playing on his phone, instead staring blankly at the back of the chair in front of him. Something is definitely wrong.

Within the first thirty minutes of the flight, Victor makes a grand total of three trips to the bathroom; each time, when he returns to his seat, his face is even whiter and he seems shaky and weak. Still, Yuuri doesn't quite put the pieces together until he hears a painful gag next to him.

At the awful sound, Yuuri's head jerks up and he glances over just in time to see Victor retch again, the slim fingers of his right hand covering his mouth. Yuuri recognizes Victor's dilemma immediately, and fumbles for the airsickness bag in the pocket of the seat back in front of him, placing it into Victor's hands. Victor doesn't even have the time to thank Yuuri before he's pitching forward, groaning and bringing up a fresh wave of puke.

Yuuri is still star struck, but seeing Victor's misery snaps him into action. He rubs Victor's back as he continues to vomit and motions for a flight attendant.

"Could you bring me some anti nausea medicine, a washcloth, some water, and a fresh airsickness bag please?" he asks, gesturing to Victor, still dry heaving miserably into the bag.

By the time she returns with the aforementioned items, Victor's heaving has tapered off and he's sitting up a little straighter. Yuuri hands him the washcloth and water to clean up with; tucks the spare barf bag into the back of the seat in front of Victor.

"If you think that you can keep it down, the flight attendant brought some medicine for you to take."

Victor nods gratefully, clearly exhausted from the vomiting, and swallows the pills with a gulp of the water bottle. Despite his clammy skin and the lack of color in his face, he's still the most beautiful person that Yuuri has ever seen. He realizes that he's staring and decides to beat a hasty retreat to his seat now that Victor seems more comfortable.

A hand on his arm stops him. "What's your name?" Victor asks, his voice rough and hoarse from throwing up.

For a moment, looking into those beautiful sapphire eyes, Yuuri forgets his name and address and phone number and how to speak or think in general. Pichit's voice rises unbidden to the surface of his mind, and Yuuri tries to calm his frazzled nerves.

"Yuuri Katsuki," he squeaks out in a trembling voice. He clears his throat, tries again. "I'm Yuuri."

"Yuuri? That's a nice name," Victor murmurs, sounding half asleep already. "Thank you for your help, Yuuri."

He drifts off, leaving a stunned Yuuri in his wake. He's pretty sure that Victor won't remember this later-he's really sick, after all-but this still feels like a precious moment to him.

In the middle of a crowded airplane, on the way to one of the biggest competitions of his career, Yuuri feels at peace.

"Feel better, Victor. And davai," he whispers, leaving Victor to rest.

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