Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Victor, are you okay?” Yuuri asks, staring at his husband.

He stands in the doorway to their bedroom, staring at Victor, who sits on the bed. His husband sits with his legs crossed, hunched forwards and head bowed. Shuddering breathing fills the quiet room, and then realisation hits Yuuri like someone just kicked him in the chest. Victor… is in pain.

“Victor?” he says again, stepping closer.

Victor jumps and sits up straight – but groans and covers his face. Darting forwards, Yuuri grabs Victor’s shoulders and stares down at him, eyes wide. His face pale and clammy, Victor has a hand clamped over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

No, Yuuri realises, Victor isn’t in pain. He’s about to be sick.

“Oh crap, Victor, do you need to go to the bathroom?” Yuuri babbles, heart pounding.

Victor opens his eyes, showing Yuuri how watery they have become. He nods slowly, and heaves. He actually sees Victor’s cheeks bulge and the grimace that spreads across his face. And when Victor swallows the mouthful of vomit, Yuuri grimaces too.

But he forces himself to ignore his discomfort, more worried about his husband. “Oh shit, it’s okay, Victor. Just, just come with me, okay?”

And as Yuuri wraps his arms around Victor and helps him to his feet, Yuuri ignores the fear pulsing inside of him. Victor stumbles and leans against Yuuri, heaving again.

They stagger into the bathroom and Victor drops to his knees. Retching, Victor crawls over to the toilet, puts his hands on the seat, and – and vomits. He hangs his head over the toilet bowl, emptying his stomach. As vomit splatters into the water, Yuuri rubs his back and mumbles to Victor in broken Russian, trying to comfort him in his mother tongue.

When Victor is left only dry heaving, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slumps against the wall, shuddering for breath. Yuuri flushes the toilet and gets Victor a cup of water, and kneels beside his husband, trying not to cry.

“Are… you okay?” he whispers, brushing Victor’s sweaty hair off of his clammy forehead.

Victor smiles weakly. “I feel… a lot better now. Ugh, that was horrible.”

“It certainly was. Victor, do… you want a hug?

“I’d love one,” Victor says, voice hoarse.

And Yuuri carefully wraps his arms around his clammy, trembling husband, pulling him into a hug. Victor lets his forehead rest against Yuuri’s shoulder, and lets out a sigh.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Yuuri murmurs, rubbing Victor’s back. “Do you have any idea what caused that? I mean, you were fine earlier.”

“I know,” Victor says into his shirt. “I felt fine until about ten minutes ago. I suddenly felt so sick and I had to sit down before I fell over – and that is when you found me.”

“Poor Victor,” he says, hugging him tighter. “Could… it be the restaurant?”

Victor pulls away and looks at him. “Do you mean…? Oh shit. Do you think I’ve got food poisoning?”

“I hope not. But… it would make sense. Feeling fine until a few minutes ago, and the only thing we did differently was… the restaurant.”

Victor sighs and slumps against Yuuri. “Fucking brilliant.”

“I promise I’ll look after you, my Victor,” Yuuri whispers, kissing his forehead.

---

Yuuri was right. His spouse thought Victor was coming down with food poisoning, and it turns out he was right. Victor threw up three hours ago, and has been sick twice more since then. His abdomen hurts and his throat burns from vomiting, and Victor just wants to curl up and cry.

He retreated to bed the moment he got out of the bathroom, and sits slumped against the pillows, wishing his stomach would stop churning.

But even though he feels awful, at least he has Yuuri. His spouse is clearly worried about him, but hides it and focuses on caring for Victor. And as he gets Victor drinks and fusses over him, Victor can see his hands trembling.

“Thank you for this, Yuuri,” he says.

Yuuri hugs him. “It’s not a problem. I just want you to feel better.”

“Me too.”

They have a TV in their bedroom, so Yuuri switches it on and joins Victor under the blankets. He snuggles up to Victor and Victor lets his head rest on his spouse’s shoulder, trying to focus on the show on TV and not the nausea. Why did he have to get food poisoning?

But as he and Yuuri watch a chat show, the churning in his abdomen gets worse. Discomfort seems to bubble through him, making his stomach gurgle. Victor groans and presses a hand against his abdomen.

“Victor?”

“I’m okay. Just… my stomach’s getting worse.”

Yuuri sighs. “Poor Victor. Do you want a hot water bottle?”

“That sounds nice,” Victor says, smiling.

And Yuuri slips out of bed and leaves the room. Victor rolls onto his side, the pain and pressure in his stomach making him wince. It gurgles inside of him and he grasps at his abdomen again. Ugh, he feels awful.

He feels so bloated, and Victor screws his eyes up. Maybe… letting out some gas might help. So Victor presses harder on his stomach and manages to fart. The pressure decreases slightly, and he gasps.

And he does it again, straining to get gas out of his bloated guts. But the noise sounds wet and something feels disgusting against his ass cheeks.

“Oh crap,” Victor gasps.

He’s shitting himself.

Victor clenches his muscles, trying desperately to stop, but – but it won’t stop. Watery diarrhoea leaks out of him, burning on its way out, and soaks into his underpants. He wants to get up and run to a toilet to stop this getting worse, but his muscles cramp and Victor can barely move.

He screws his eyes up and tries not to cry, face burning as his bowels empty into his underwear. It just won’t stop, the smell disgusting and his soiled underpants sticking to his ass and every cramp making him want to sob. He wants to die. Why is this happening?

“Victor?”

He freezes, but his body won’t stop, making a horrible farting noise as more diarrhoea sprays out of him.

Yuuri is back.

“Go away!” Victor call, voice cracking. A particularly strong cramp makes him yelp, and he passes gas with a horrible noise, even more diarrhoea coming out. It starts to soak through his pants, and Victor knows the bed sheets must be getting ruined too. “Yuuri, leave.”

“Huh? Victor, what…?” Despite his pleas, Yuuri steps further into their bedroom. “What’s that smell?”

“Please leave, Yuuri,” he says, rubbing his cramping abdomen. “Please—” Nausea builds up and Victor belches, groaning. “Go.”

“Victor… oh, oh Victor,” Yuuri whispers. “Have you—”

“Go away! Please…”

Yuuri sighs. “Okay. But I’ll be back. I promise.”

And, thankfully, Yuuri shuts the door. He doesn’t want his spouse to see him like this, covered in his own shit.

It takes another few minutes for the diarrhoea to stop, leaving Victor aching and sore and filthy and humiliated. Hoping he won’t be sick, he sits up slowly, wincing when diarrhoea sticks to his ass, his underpants and pants wet. Just how is he going to deal with this?

Everything aching and trembling, Victor eases himself out of bed. The moment he stands up, the mess in his underpants leaks down his legs and onto the floor, and Victor has never been more grateful that they have wooden floor, not carpets. Although when he glances at the bed, all he can see is the foul mess he has made on the white sheets.

His legs wobble, but Victor manages to dart into the en-suite bathroom and lock the door. He runs the shower very hot and steps in fully-clothed, slipping off his soiled clothes and letting the water rinse them.

Victor turns up the pressure, letting water cascade down him, washing the disgusting mess away. Victor scrubs himself clean and tries to clean his now totally water-soaked clothes, but that just makes the problem worrse. In the end, he wrings the most water he can out of the disgusting things, before grabbing the plastic bag lining the bathroom trash can and dumping them inside. He ties it shut and puts it back in the bin, legs wobbling beneath him.

And then Victor scrubs his hands clean with an excessive amount of soap, and stares at his reflection. His disgusting, pale and clammy reflection.

Realising he has no clothes and needs to clean the bedroom, Victor wraps a towel around his waist and opens the door. With trembling legs, he steps into the bedroom – and stares.

The room smells of disinfectant, the floor clean and the bed stripped. And Yuuri stands by the door, a mop and bucket beside him and a trash bag in his hands.

His spouse… cleaned this all up for him.

“Yuuri,” he whispers, starting to shiver from just wearing a towel.

Yuuri notices him and wanders over. “Victor, are you feeling better now?”

“Y-Yeah, I had a shower and cleaned up the bathroom. I… I’m so sorry about this, Yuuri.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuuri says, his voice firm. “Everyone gets sick. This sort of thing happens. It’s okay, my Victor.”

Victor stares at him, pressing a hand against his bare, sore stomach. “Thank you so much.”

Despite looking like he wants to cry, Yuuri smiles. “Really, it was nothing. But you’re welcome.”

---

Once Victor and their bedroom have been cleaned up, Yuuri gives his hands a deep clean. Cleaning that mess up was pretty gross, but he tries not to care. After all, everyone has accidents at some point, and it wasn’t Victor’s fault.

To be honest, he just feels so sorry for Victor; on top of feeling so awful, he had to go through something as humiliating as soiling himself. So yeah, that was gross, but he just wants Victor to feel better.

Once he has cleaned his hands enough, Yuuri returns to the bedroom. He remade the bed earlier, and helped his wobbly husband get changed into pyjamas. Victor’s cheeks are still red with embarrassment, an odd look against the rest of his sallow face. Right now, Victor huddles under the clean blankets, sipping batter and watching Ouran High School Host Club on DVD. He looks so poorly, and Yuuri wants to cry. But he doesn’t.

“I’m back, Victor,” he says, crossing the bedroom and getting into bed with his husband. A large bowl sits on the bedside cabinet (in case Victor needs to be sick) beside the first aid kit and jug of water. He can’t prepare for Victor getting an upset stomach again, so he hopes he can get Victor to the toilet in time if necessary. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit better, thanks,” Victor says, holding a hot water bottle against his stomach. “Although still pretty dreadful.”

“I know,” Yuuri says, putting his arms around Victor and giving him a hug. “My poor Victor. I hope you feel better soon.”

Victor smiles, but it turns into a grimace. Yuuri actually hears the gurgles, and realises what is happening.

“Sorry, I—” Victor darts out of bed and into the bathroom, and all Yuuri can hear is spluttering farts and pained groans.

When Victor finally gets out of the bathroom, he collapses into bed, sighing. Yuuri pulls him into another hug, and rubs his back.

“It’s okay, Victor,” he whispers, and Victor manages a smile.

---

Yuuri awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of retching. He snaps on a lamp and stares at Victor, who sits up in bed and vomits into the bowl. Sweat runs down his face and his eyes water, and he gags and coughs up nothing but water and stomach acid.

“It’s okay, Victor,” he whispers when Victor sees him, and starts to rub his husband’s back. “Just get it all up. It’s okay.”

When it is over, Victor coughs and wipes his mouth with a tissue. After swilling water around his mouth and then spitting it out, Victor glances at Yuuri.

“Sorry for waking you.”

Yuuri places the bowl on the floor beside the bed, and wraps his arms around his weak husband. And as he rubs Victor’s back, he whispers, “Don’t worry about it. Just get better at your own pace, and I’ll always help you. I just want you to feel better.”