Chapter Text
It was an average day in Professor Trein’s classroom; a lecture for an important text next week was coming up, and missing any detail would be terrible, so it’s crucial to be present the entire time. Or at least that’s how Deuce would put it. However, something else was also crucial to him: His aching bladder, needing release right this minute. He had an upcoming track meet in a few days, so he wanted to stay hydrated until then. Yeah, sure, he REALLY had to go, but which is more important? School grades, or well-being ? Well, that depends on who's answering, but no matter. Deuce takes his notes, writing every little thing, down to the last word. Then, an overwhelming feeling of urgency sends a shiver through his body. He slightly hunches over and squeezes his already crossed legs tighter in an attempt to suppress the feeling. He looks at the clock; 10 minutes of class left. He can hold it for 10 minutes, right?
Two more minutes pass, and he feels worse already. Now he's rubbing his legs together, a hand in between them as he let out a strained grunt. Thankfully no one noticed-
“Hey, man. You okay? Seems you got it going rough.”
Scratch that. Someone noticed. Thank the Sevens it wasn't Ace. He would tease the desperate boy to no end. Deuce tries to stabilize himself and responds, “Y-Yeah.. I just... have to go SO bad. “His cheeks flushed. The fact that he just admitted that to someone he doesn't even know is crazy. “Then just ask the teacher if you can go?“ The student said. “Deuce shook his head furiously. “I can't! I have to take my notes and if I miss an important note, then I'm screwed! “The student saw the determination in his eyes. “Okay, then. I wish you luck. Don’t wet yourself, that’d be embarrassing,” he said with a joking tone in his voice. Deuce nodded in response, flustered. (Little did he know..)
A total of seven minutes had passed and this card soldier could barely take any more. He was breathing heavily and practically writhing to control himself, but he was still taking notes like an honors student. The student from before watched him and grew more concerned with every second. “Dude, at this point, you better go. I’m not sure you can make it.” He was right; he was barely able to keep focused on his paper, and he would most likely let loose before he knew it. But is he going to let that stop him? Not at all. He was so close. So close he could just see the end.
Deuce is on the verge of losing it, then-
RIIIIING!!
The bell. The bell he was waiting to hear for so long. He quickly packed up his things and got up, but then immediately felt weak in the knees. He drops all his things and his thighs clamp together as his hands reached his lower region in an instant.
‘No.. Nonononono this CAN’T be happening! I can still make it, I have to!’ He bends down to recollect his fallen items with one hand. Suddenly, he feels a warm liquid escaping. He was too late. “ACK!- NO! C’MON C’MON!!!!!” He screamed at himself, trying to stop the flow of urine, but to no avail. His knees weakened as he dropped to the floor, a puddle slowly growing under him. Deuce was in disbelief. He was so distraught, he balled up his fists as shameful tears slid down his face and onto the floor and merged with the puddle already there. How? How could he, an aspiring honors student and one from Night Raven College at that, be on the ground crying and wetting himself like a little kid?
“Deuce? Why are you sti- Oh.” It was Trein. The younger on the floor looked up at the voice, only making him feel more pathetic and drawing more sobs out of him. As if his day couldn’t get any worse, one of his own teachers was looking down at him as if he actually was a lost little kid. “Sir.. I’m.. I’m SO sorry!!” He said between gasps before completely breaking down.
There was no point to try and hold anything back now. Not his tears nor his pee. I mean, that’s all he could do. Attempting to break some of the tension between them, Trein asks, “Would you like me to bring you to the infirmary?” Deuce, all pride gone, accepts his offer with sniffs and a silent nod. After they arrive, a nurse brings him a change of pants as the others are sent to be washed. “Thank you, sir,” Deuce says quietly. “Yes, but just know I’m going to make you clean the classroom as compensation for this, but I will write you an excuse for your next class, so be there.” Deuce’s eyes widened, he thought that Trein would give him a worse punishment, but cleaning? That’s an easy job. And he gets an excuse for absence? Maybe Professor Trein was more generous than he thought. “..T-Thank you, professor,” He mumbled, adverting his eyes.