Another little ficlet thanks to @n-s-f-w-sportsbaes and the Victuuri mpreg group chat crew. Might turn into something longer, but for now, this is where it’s at. B)
Why do I get the feeling that Yuuri would absolutely be one of those people who winds up not making it to the hospital and giving birth in the back seat of a car?
It wasn't supposed to end up this way.
They had a plan. They couldn't not have a plan, given how much Victor inwardly fretted and Yuuri outwardly fretted over the health of their first child. They'd mapped out the best route to the hospital, packed a bag by the door, had Yuuri's doctor on speed-dial. Everything had been ready – everything had been perfect.
Until it wasn't.
Until Yuuri had found himself in the back seat of their car, screaming as another contraction ripped through him, even more powerful than the last.
“Victor – I need to push.”
“What?”
Shit – how did he say it in English? Going on almost a decade of fluency and all of the words were being stripped from his memory. “I need to push,” he finally said.
“Nyet. Just...just hold on, Yuuri. We're almost there.”
He wanted to. He really did. His body, on the other hand, had other ideas. Forget English – even his Japanese left him until all he could do was let out a guttural groan as he did exactly what Victor had pleaded him not to and pushed.
Oh god – he was going to be one of those people who wound up on the front page of the local paper for giving birth on the side of the road.
“Victor-”
“We're almost there, Yuuri!”
“Pull over.”
Victor almost swerved into the other lane as his head whipped back to stare at him in terror. “What? I told you not to push-”
“I can't exactly help it,” Yuuri forced out as muscles he'd barely realized he had clamped down harder than he thought possible. “Pull over.”
“We're a block away-”
The feeling of something slipping between his legs was new, but unmistakable, and his heart leaped up into his throat as he reached a hand down. His fingers met hair, damp and warm, and very much not his. “Victor,” he said again, his voice strangely steady. “Pull over. Now.”
“But-”
“She's coming now, Victor. Her head is-” He pressed his eyes closed again, trying with everything he had to fight against the urge to push again and losing. “We're not going to make it. We're really not going to-”
He caught a flash of Victor's eyes in the rear view mirror, and he could pinpoint the exact moment Victor's gaze fell between his legs and got a full view of their daughter's head coming eagerly into the world. The color drained from his husband's face, his eyes going wide.
Next thing Yuuri knew, Victor was pulling over on the side of the road, the hospital just barely visible a block away. Horror settled in his gut alongside a strange sense of relief. Neither of them lasted long, forced out of his consciousness by another powerful contraction.
“Victor-” The name forced its way out of his throat as tears stung his eyes, pressure building in his abdomen as he gave into the urge to push again, with everything he had. It was like his body wasn't his own, like it was being overridden by some other force intent on getting this baby out right this second.
Victor was already scrambling around to the back door, tugging his coat off of his shoulders as he slid between Yuuri's legs. Sweat was dripping from his temple despite the fact that it was almost freezing outside, but he managed a smile - albeit a little hysterically - despite his obvious fear. “Look at that hair,” he said, grinning.
“Oh god -” Yuuri sobbed, his throat burning with every labored breath. “God, I'm about to give birth on the side of the road. In the car-”
“It certainly seems that way,” Victor said, his voice trembling. “But it will all be alright, love. Don't you worry – everything's going to be perfectly-”
Whatever Victor said after that, Yuuri didn't hear. He was too busy screaming every profanity he knew as his body bore down with every last bit of strength it had. Somehow, he registered Victor's surprised gasp, felt him fumbling with the jacket between his legs and trying to offer some encouragement.
Fleetingly, he hoped to whatever deity might be listening that Victor wouldn't drop the baby as he rammed his fist against the fogged glass of the car door pushed hard against the unrelenting pressure in his lower abdomen. He felt something slipping, giving way – tension and white-hot pain gave way to an almost euphoric sense of relief as he brought their first child screaming and kicking into the world.
When the flurry of activity came to an end, and he was finally clean and warm and wrapped up in blankets in a quiet hospital room, Yuuri let himself relax. Their daughter was pressed against his chest, a mop of dark hair obscuring most of her pink face, and he smiled as he ran his thumb over her tiny arm.
“Just couldn’t wait,” Victor sighed as he reached out to rest his palm, impossibly gentle, over her back as she slept. “She certainly doesn’t have the face of such a troublemaker.”
“I don’t know,” Yuuri muttered. “She looks like you.”
