Work Text:
𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎:
𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜
Yuri knows he can’t keep this up forever. The pig only has so many spares. But it's just so…easy. Neither Yuri or Viktor bat an eye when he wanders into their room each morning before they all head to the local rink for practice.
“Hey, can I borrow a pair of leggings? Mine are dirty.” More often than not in the chaos of the morning, Yuuri just hands him any ol’ pair from his drawer and continues getting himself ready for the day. Yuri doesn’t actually know what to do the morning this routine finally breaks.
“Viktor! Have you done laundry recently?” Yuri is sitting in his room, almost completely dressed except for his lower half, He stills his breathing to hear what the two men are talking about in the other room.
“Yes Love, I did all the laundry a few days ago, why?” Yuri’s stomach leaps…Viktor couldn’t have done all the laundry, right? He hid them well enough? They both know not to come into his room.
“Huh? That's weird because I have no black leggings, my drawer is practically empty.” Yuri looks over at his own closet, door shut tightly with one of his blankets pressed against the crack that meets the floor board, guiltily.
“That's impossible hun, I folded a good week's worth, I remember.” He hears the two mens footsteps leave from the living room, presumably into their bedroom…Yuri has to do something…but there really isn’t anything he can do in the next five minutes! They have to get to the rink—
“It’s just for today, love. I know they are a little long…Maybe we should go shopping after we are done skating? Pick up some new ones for me, you and Yura?” Yuri pauses…that could work. If the two lovebirds are out of the house after practice, Yuri can try to figure out Yuuri’s weird Japanese washing machine and the problem is solved—Except he has no clean pants to wear today and asking right now, while the others are already suspicious would be putting a bullseye on his forehead.
Deciding he has no other choice, Yuri walks over to his closet and slowly opens it, the smell of stale piss immediately assaults his nose. He grabs a pair off the top, the ones he wore yesterday. He cringes as his hand glides over the crotch of them, still wet from his shameful secret.
Yuri would never admit this to Viktor or Yuuri or hell, even his grandpa if he was still alive…He has been having trouble staying dry on the ice. It’s not like he is fully pissing his pants all the goddamn time it’s just—since his growth spurt in the spring every time he jumps or falls on the ice, a little leaks out. And over the course of a three hour practice, his pants are oftentimes soaked. It’s easy to hide, you get wet every time you fall so nobody can really tell the difference…At least that's what Yuri thought until Viktor asked him to bring out his laundry the first week after having moved in with the two idiots, and to Japan. Sure, when wet with water and piss his pants were simply wet, but when dried…they smelled…And anyone who caught a whiff of his laundry would immediately know what the smell was and connect the dots.
Hence why Yuri had to start borrowing leggings. He ran out of his own, rather large collection quickly. He first played it off they was starting to feel too small, because he isn’t the only one who noticed his change in height. It was easy to just keep using that excuse. The rink, thankfully, is in walking distance to their apartment so on the way home, when he is wet down to his ankles is piss, he doesn't have to worry about Viktor or Yuri smelling it. For the most part, he has the smell handled in his room. A lot of candles, spray and his blanket trick have worked so far.
But, even he has limits to what he will do to keep hiding this, and as he is miserably slipping on his wet legging, he starts to think he is reaching it. The only thing keeping him from shutting down and locking himself in his room is that he might be able to fix this. If he can manage to actually do a load of laundry, figure out the machine all while he has the house to himself, he can find ways going forward to keep doing just that.
Yuri practically douses himself in every room spray and perfume he can find in his room, hoping and praying that it will mask the scent he knows is lingering on his pants at least until after practice…
• ───────────────── •
Practice doesn’t go as it usually does. Yuri quickly realizes after falling out of his first jump that his legging, while sweat wicking, once fully soaked do absolutely nothing to absorb his small lapses in bladder control. Thank god he took a moment to look down at the ice after his fall, seeing the droplets of yellow liquid below him on the ice, he quickly wiped them with the sleeve of his jacket.
He continued this throughout practice, but at some point his bladder just—let a bit more out than usual. He felt a splash when he landed and without thinking about it, he took his jacket off completely and set it down, yelling something about it being too hot today. After a second of pretending to adjust his skates, he grabbed his soaked jacket and tossed it aside with his rink bag. Now really hoping and praying he could get the machine to work. It would be obvious something was up if he showed up to the rink without a coat.
After that, Yuri stops jumping, or doing anything that puts a strain on his bladder, simply working on his step sequence, away from the other two skaters until it is finally time to leave. It couldn’t have come sooner. Yuri was absolutely miserable. His leggings were soaked. Every square inch of them. His legs were itchy and he was freezing from being so wet, and to top it off. He knew he stunk, it was starting to bother even him as he skated around. That fact being certain, he didn’t hesitate to run to the locker room, chuck his skates in his locker and book it home, sending Viktor a text that he was gonna go home and video call Otobek and to not wait up for him.
• ───────────────── •
“Huh?” Viktor looks down on the ground by the bleachers, Yuri’s blue and white team russia jacket is splayed out on the dirty rink floor.
“What's wrong?” Yuri steps over the barrier, slinking his skate guards onto his blades.
“Yuri texted me he already left, and he left his jacket here.” Viktor bends down and grabs the jacket, intending to fold it up and stick it into his own bag, knowing how much Yuri prides his Olympic accomplishment. Except as he brings it to his body to fold, he stops in his tracks, pulling a face as the air around him turns sour.
“Is something wrong?” Yuuri is now beside him and it only takes a moment for realization of what they are both smelling to dawn on them. “Viktor—It’s pee.”
“I think you're right…and look, it's soaked.” Viktor sets the sodden jacket back on the ground, unsure what to do with it now.
“Viktor…Did Yuri leave so quickly because he had an accident?” The worried look on his husbands face mirrors his own, but—
“Yura took his jacket off hours ago, Love…I think he was…”
“Oh, Yurio…He was skating in wet pants? Why didn’t he tell us?” Viktor…can think of a lot of reasons why. It’s embarrassing, Yuri is almost an adult and one who had been held to a stature of elegance his whole life, it's not surprising that he would hide something so dirty. But, Viktor can’t shake that this wasn't just a fluke…
He looks over at his husband, seeing the bunched up ankles of his own sports legging above his skates and suddenly it clicks…but realizing what is possibly going on doesn’t make him feel any better.
“Love, You’ve been letting Yura borrow your leggings often, right?” Viktor says, wondering if his husband will come to the same conclusion or if he is overreacting.
“Yea—oh my! You don’t think—Viktor, I've been lending him my legging for three months! You don’t think—”
“I do, Love. I think something is wrong with our Yura and we need to help him.” Viktor doesn’t know what exactly is wrong, but for the younger russian to hide this from them for what could be three months, it doesn’t seem like it's a problem they can just ignore for embarrassments sake and hope it goes away.
“Let’s go home! We need to talk to him!” Yuuri grabs his hand but Vitkor doesn’t budge, thinking of what they can exactly do to help him…when it hits him.
“Let’s stop by a drugstore on the way home.”
•───────────────── •
“Fuck,” Yuri cursed into the open air of the apartment, he managed to get not even half the soiled leggings into the washer before he realized he has no idea what soap to use, where the soap even is or how to start the machine. If he could even start it. At this point he is freaking out so much he would start it, hoping the water would wash away enough of the smell that he could feign that he just forgot to put soap in and then have Viktor or Yuuri run it properly. Even if he could do that it wouldn’t make much of a difference because he still had over two dozen leggings, his and Yuri’s combined that need to go in two or three more loads.
Yuri…is overwhelmed. He didn’t even shower upon coming home, knowing he was just going to get gross moving his dirty laundry, he stripped off his leggings because they needed to go in the wash as well so now he is down to his boxer, gray and dark at the crotch and the tank top he wears under his compression shirt that thankfully didn’t get wet somehow. He is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to shower…he wants to have clean leggings…he wants to skate without worrying about his body betraying him.
The first of many overdue tears slips from his eyes as he crouches in front of the laundry machine, Just as he reaches a hand up to wipe them away, the sound of a key jutting into the lock of the front door mere feet away still the apartment. Yuri panics, he—he is sitting there with soaked boxers in a pile of filthy wet pants—but he can’t make himself move. Maybe it's because he doesn’t have time to hide everything, or maybe it's because he is just tired. Tired of trying to deal with this himself.
The door swings open. Yuri doesn’t look down from his soiled lap and the mess he has made on the floor in the kitchen. He doesn’t move when he hears Yuuri gasp and murmur something to Viktor in Japanese that he doesn’t understand. He flinches when a hand falls on his shoulder, and socked feet come into view, and then knees, and then a head of gray hair—
“It’s alright Yura, You're okay. Were not mad, or upset, or disgusted or any of the things running through your head. Me and Yuuri are just worried about your love. We found your jacket at the rink, do you want to talk about what happened?” Yuri doesn’t pull away from the hug, he can’t look at Viktors face when he admits it. So, he mumbles into the older man's shoulder. Telling him everything, his growth spurt, it started with only a little when he would jump to today, how his bladder practically fully emptied on the ice without warming. About how he doesn’t know how to use the washing machine, to which Yuuri promptly let himself be known to be listening and apologized for not realizing he should teach him. He told him everything.
“Oh Yuura. I wish you would have come to us sooner, Yuuri, you started skating young, right?” Yuri tucked his face further into Viktor’s shoulder, “What age did you start doing real jumps, Doubles or more?”
“Hmm, Minako-sensei told us we couldn’t start even trying until we were six…” The japanese Yuuri said, Yuri moved himself out from Viktor’s shoulder to look at him.
“six? Yakov had me working on doubles when I was three…” Yuri makes his eyes meet Viktors who is nodding,
“Minako-sensei was right to have you wait, Yuuri, because jumping how we did, and yes we, Yura, Yakov had me on the same timeline, messes up how our bodies develop. Your muscles are underdeveloped in some places, because they had to work overtime before they were ready in other places, your legs and core.”
“But—You never…” Yuri embarrassingly looks down at the dark gray patch around his crotch and all the wet leggings surrounding him, Yuuri’s and Viktors leggings that he wet.
“I did, Yura. Yuuri, can you hand me the bag from the store.” Yuri waits watching as Viktor slowly reveals what's inside the bag— “sports incontinence pads..the ones from russia were far more bulky and horrible, these look nice. It took a little to find them here in Japan, considering Yuri never had our problem, but this is what you will wear, Okay Yuri?”
“I—” Yuri wants to scream. Wants to be the brat he was when he first met Yuuri, but…he has no other option right now. Competitions are coming up and he doesn't want to wet his costumes, it will show and even if he wore black. The cameras could see or someone could smell it…but. “I can’t be like this forever! I’ll use them but I need to see a doctor or something!” Going to a doctor has been on his mind for a while, if he was back home he would have easily called and made an appointment and slipped off on the bus, nobody would have needed to know, but here in Japan him and Viktor basically go through Yuuri or the Katsuki family to get anything done…
“We can get you in if that's what you want, Yura, but it's really an easy fix. A few weekends with Chris and a few embarrassing nights had me better before competition season. You just have to spend your time off the ice holding it longer. I’d bet you have been going anytime you feel like you need to because you're scared of wetting yourself right?” Yuri flushes…The only time he isn’t running too and from the bathroom all the time is when he is asleep or at the rink where the others could call him out on it. He nods.
“Let us help you, Yurio. We can take this week off, watch movies and relax at home and you can try going to the bathroom on a schedule?” Yuuri cuts in…Yuri like the sound of that. He can’t say he is all that eager to go back to the rink and wet himself…even if it's into a glorified diaper. He nods again.
“Great! Yuuri, we probably need more soap if we want to get all this laundry done, and Yuri you look like you need a long hot bath, how about you shower off real quick and we take a stroll over to Mama Katsuki’s and have a nice long soak in the onsen, hmm?” Yuri stands up liking the sound of that alot…but…
“Yuuri…Can I borrow some boxers…I don’t have any clean ones….” Yuri feels far less guilty asking to borrow the other boy's clothes now that everyone knows his secret.