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Just a little scene I just wrote for fun. Don't know if there are any Yuuri!!! on Ice fans around here, but have a cute little Yuuri/Victor omo ficlet anyway.

 

 

It had not gone well.

And little wonder, given the fact that the moment he stepped out on the ice, Yuuri discovered that he really, really had to pee. How are you supposed to do a quadruple toe loop when you’re desperate for the toilet? Let alone a salchow or flip.

Yuuri fumbled with his skates the moment he got off the ice, hands shaking. The kiss and cry was a no go. He had to run right now if he was going to make it in time.

‘Yuuri?’ Victor’s voice called, but he didn’t have time to listen. He ran.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’ The nearest bathroom wasn’t far, but he had to stop twice along the way to cross his legs and grab himself through his costume. Luckily, no one was watching. He made it inside, locked the door, began to fumble with his costume, and . . . ‘No! Shit . . .’

He had no way of stopping it, and he moaned pathetically as his pee came out, soaking his costume. Yuuri had never felt so ashamed in his life. Here he was, a grown-ass skating champion, pissing himself because he failed to make it to the bathroom on time. Skating had probably made it more difficult to hold it. He slid to the floor and sobbed.

There came a knock on the door. ‘Yuuri?’ Victor’s voice was filled with concern. ‘Yuuri, are you okay?’

‘I . . . I’m fine!’ Yuuri knew he didn’t sound especially convincing as his voice cracked. ‘Just . . . go away!’

‘Are you sick?’

‘Y—no, I’m . . . yes, I’m . . .’ Shit.

‘Let me in, Yuuri.’

‘No. Just go away.’

‘Are you upset because it didn’t go well?’

Yuuri almost laughed. If only Victor knew. ‘No. Yes. Just . . . please.’ It came out as barely a whisper. ‘Please just go.’

He heard Victor sigh. ‘No. I refuse to go when you’re in there by yourself feeling like crap. Just let me in so I can help you. Okay? If you won’t let me in as your coach, at least let me in as your boyfriend.’

Yuuri closed his eyes. It was hard to argue with Victor when he sounded like that, so earnest and sincere and loving. Finally, he stood on shaky legs and unlocked the door. It opened at once, and Victor stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him.

‘Yuuri, what—?’ He frowned. Looked at Yuuri and then down on the floor where a puddle had formed. ‘Oh dear.’

Yuuri couldn’t look at him. ‘I’m gross,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You had to pee that badly? That’s why it went so poorly out there?’

‘. . . yes.’ Yuuri felt tears sting his eyes. ‘I ruined the costume, too . . .’

Victor shook his head. ‘It can be dry-cleaned.’ He sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll go get you some dry clothes. I’ll be right back.’

Yuuri locked the door behind Victor and, for lack of anything better to do, sat down on the toilet and hugged himself. What now? Was Victor disgusted with him? He should be. Yuuri felt mortified, but he knew that Victor would have had to see it in the end regardless, or he would have been stuck in this bathroom forever.

A few minutes later, there was another knock. ‘Yuuri? It’s me.’

Yuuri unlocked the door again, and Victor entered, locking the door again behind him. He carried a bag, and set it down away from the puddle on the floor.

‘Sorry,’ Yuuri muttered. ‘I should clean that up.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Victor. ‘I’ll clean it. You just get changed. I brought a towel, so you can clean up a little.’

Yuuri started to undress. Even though he and Victor were frequently naked together, he still turned his back. He pulled off the sopping wet leotard, swallowing back a sob. It was just so embarrassing. He turned to the sink, soaking a wad of paper towels so he could clean his crotch and legs. He noticed to his chagrin that the touch made him half hard, in spite of everything. Yuuri dried himself with the towel. He heard Victor go up to the sink to rinse something and glanced sideways. He’d brought a rag, which was now soaked in urine.

‘Fuck,’ Yuuri mumbled, pulling on clean underwear. ‘This sucks . . .’

‘Don’t worry about it, lyubimiy. It happens.’

‘Not to skating champions in their twenties . . .’

He felt a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey.’ Yuuri turned his head to meet Victor’s gaze. His expression was kind. ‘I said it’s okay. It doesn’t matter.’ He pulled at Yuuri’s shoulder so he would turne to face him, and put his arms around him, hugging him close. ‘I love you no matter how many times you wet yourself.’

Yuuri laughed in spite of himself, and put his arms around Victor in turn, burying his face in his shoulder. ‘I love you too.’

They stood like that for a moment. Then Victor uttered a puzzled, ‘hm’, and stepped back, looking pointedly down at Yuuri’s crotch. ‘What’s this, then?’

Yuuri quickly turned around again, pulling a pair of jeans out of the bag. ’N-nothing.’

‘Nothing? Cause I felt that.’

‘You . . . you were just really close. I . . .’

‘You don’t get hard every time I hug you, Yuuri.’

‘Does it matter? This isn’t the time.’

Victor’s arms encircled him from behind, his hand sliding down his bare stomach towards the waistband of his boxer-briefs. ‘It’s kind of hot, though. Is it cause you . . . felt embarrassed? Cause I know embarrassment can sometimes make me feel kind of excited.’

‘It’s not! I’m not . . .’ But Yuuri couldn’t lie to Victor, no matter how much he wanted to, and he sighed. ‘Yeah. That’s probably it.’

‘Then let me help you.’ Victor’s hand disappeared into Yuuri’s underwear, and Yuuri hissed as he wrapped his hand around his cock, making him fully hard. ‘Mm, that’s it, my love. Doesn’t that feel better?’

Yuuri’s head drooped forward and he nodded. ‘Yeah.’

Victor stroked him slowly with nimble fingers, and then he pulled down Yuuri’s underwear again. ‘Won’t do to stain these, too,’ he murmured and placed a soft kiss just behind Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri groaned. ‘Mm, there’s a good boy.’ Victor stroked faster, and Yuuri moaned. ‘That’s it.’

Yuuri’s breathing came in short, ragged bursts. ‘I have to pee again,’ he gasped without thinking, and Victor chuckled softly in his ear.

Victor manoeuvred Yuuri over towards the toilet and lifted the lid and seat with his free hand. ‘Come for me first?’

It was all the encouragement Yuuri needed, because he was already pretty close, and he came with a soft whimper, cum shooting into the toiletbowl. Victor kept his hand on his dick, and a moment later Yuuri peed again.

‘There you go.’ Victor kissed the back of his head. ‘You’ve been very good for me, Yuuri.’ He pulled Yuuri’s underwear back on and turned him around again so he could kiss him. Yuuri sighed into the kiss, his cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘Did that feel good?’ asked Victor, pulling back to look into Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri only nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and leaned forward to kiss Victor again, because that was all he wanted.

‘You stay here and get dressed,’ said Victor after a couple of minutes of this. ‘I told them you were ill, so I’ll just go give the press some platitudes, and we’ll head back to the hotel. Yes?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Maybe we can have some more fun when we get there, hm? Cause I’m feeling pretty excited now, too.’ Victor winked, and then he left the bathroom. Yuuri locked the door, sighed, and put on his clothes. Having some fun in their hotel room didn’t sound like a half bad idea, and he adjusted his junk. Maybe he should do this again some time.

Edited by ThornWild (see edit history)
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