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Chapter Text

Moments after he ended the call with his mentor and muttered a hasty "What is he up to now?", Suguro felt himself be dragged by the collar and shoved into a dark corner of the room.

"Agh!" He groaned, his back thumping the wall with great pressure. Whoever it was had some great strength.

He barely had time to process that the person was Yukio before he began.

"Sorry but start talking." Something cold and circular registered on Suguro's neck. A familiar shak and a quick glance down confirmed to the cram school prodigy that it was a gun. Yes, his same-age teacher was pointing a gun at his student.

What's he doing?! Suguro swallowed ever so thickly.

"M-Mr Okumura-?" Suguro managed before the gun was poked further into his neck, shutting him up.

"Tell me how my brother and I were born." His voice wasn't threatening but an ever so serious tone layer over it.

Suguro froze in Yukio's grip, teeth clenched hard. Did he... Did he always have that look in his eyes? He couldn't quite pick the word but it looked menacing, demon-like . He spent many lessons listening to the younger Okumura brother, shared many high school classes with him but never, never before has he seen that look casted on his face. Not ever.

"What do you know?" He stepped forward, in an attempt to start looking more intimidating than he already was. " Tell me what you know." He almost snarled.

"Are you really gonna shoot me?!" It slipped off his tongue and it sounded so dumb. Yukio was never the one to act, but he was quite sure that if the trigger was pulled, he'd be in far more trouble than he might know.

That must have been the strike of realisation because at that, Yukio's eyes widened. After a moment, the gun barrel was lowered from below Suguro's chin. A very small sigh of relief was drawn from Suguro.

Suguro could only describe the change in Yukio's actions like a mental switch had been activated.

A nervous chuckle came from Yukio's lips. He seemed almost delusional. "What's gotten into me?" He audibly asked himself, as if he regained control of himself. "My apologies. Maybe I... drank something alcoholic by mistake."

Suguro could inwardly scoff at that. It would take something much stronger than alcohol to trigger something of that nature. He heard stories of drunkards fighting but never threatening to shoot.

"Forget about this." Yukio moved out of Suguro's space. A hand reached up to Suguro's neck delicately.

Suguro staggered for a moment before lunging forward and gripping Yukio by the shoulder. "NO WAIT!!" He swivelled the other guy round. "Did something happen?" 

"Really, I'm sorry." Yukio sounded dejected, retracted from the conversation. But oh no, this wasn't over.

He was sick of hearing that from his teacher. "Don't apologise, tell me what's going on!" All he ever did was apologise. Even Rin admitted that it may as well become his catchphrase.

A hint of suppressed anger flashed on Yukio's features before it faded away. "I'm your superior; let me go." He smiled, gesturing to Suguro's vice grip on his formal clothes.

This memory only a few weeks back seemed to haunt Suguro every time he saw Yukio. He wished he didn't listen to him. He wished he didn't let go and instead forced Yukio into a position where he had to talk.

Or maybe that was a wise decision. He might actually be dead right now if he disobeyed the order. Yukio had a gun on him and one unbroken hand, after all.

Suguro flickered his gaze on the Okumura brother sitting on the desk to his right. He seemed completely normal right now, just quietly working on the maths classwork set.

At the very least, Suguro should have been glad that he only shared maths with him. Having to see him numerous times a day would have been more awful than it already was. Seeing him in maths and in cram school was already a pain.

He looked back at his own exercise book. The amount of work he got done today was pathetic. Normally, he'd practically manage to get the classwork all done by the time the bell hit. Today, he was only a little over halfway through with ten minutes to the lesson left.

He tried to concentrate on the series of trigonometric identities set by the teacher in the textbook but he was hindered by the frequent reminders pulsing in his lower abdomen.

He clenched his hand resting on his thigh for the umpteenth time in this lesson. I need to go so damn badly... He didn't use the school bathroom at lunch because at that point he didn't need to. Through the afternoon, the sips he took from his water bottle must have filtered down. It now all collected in his bladder and boy was it full.

As quietly and subtly as he could, he crossed one leg over the other, tensing his thigh muscles onto his junk. Earlier he had leaned forward and tried to grind himself into the seat below. It brought temporary relief but he made far too much rustling in doing so. He couldn't catch too much attention on himself. He wasn't a child, he didn't have a weak bladder. He can hold it.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Yukio. He didn't stop working but in the corner of his eye, he noticed Suguro's legs closing in on themselves and yet another crossing of his legs. He inwardly smirked. Someone's in urgent need of a bathroom break .

It was a cycle of altering between bouncing his knees - alternating between either one - pressing his legs close together and crossing them. Nobody had caught him, nobody knew of his need.

Suguro's hand travelled to the base of his stomach. It poked outwards, a small bump present from under his shirt. Nine minutes , he checked his watch. Nine minutes and I can go .

All he had to do was sit the last segment of the lesson out with a bladder soon set to burst.

Fortunately, those nine minutes passed swiftly. He regained his focus and actually tried to solve a few more problems. They were tough, as the rest of them were, but he managed to work through them. He'd be thankful of this when he came to do his homework later.

The bell ringing had never felt so sweet. He sighed in content, knowing he could now relieve himself. Eagerly, he packed away faster than usual and jotted down the homework in his school planner. Thankful his bladder cooperated and held out, it was now time for some true relief.

Or so he thought.

"Suguro." Yukio called out after him. 

Dammit, what does he need now? Suguro grunted to himself. He straightened up, turning round. "Yes?"

"May we... talk for a moment?"

"We... can but could this wait a second? I need to-"

"This will only take five minutes. I'm aware we both need to get to cram school in fifteen minutes."

"Sure." Crossing his legs for a moment, he moved to the centre of the room, near Yukio's desk. If what he was saying was true, then he can handle five minutes. He held it for the afternoon, surely five minutes extra was easy enough.

"Take a seat." Yukio vaguely gestured in front his desk.

After placing his down beside Yukio's, Suguro grabbed the seat from the desk in front of Yukio's and swivelled it round so they faced each other. He pressed down heavy on the seat as he did so, taking that opportunity and seizing it.

Maybe Suguro should be glad that Yukio's finally addressing the issue. Up until now, he acted as if nothing ever happened between them. No matter how hard Suguro would stare at him, trying to silently communicate to him: What in the hell was that? , Yukio seemed to brush it off and continue with whatever he was doing. 

It was bad timing and in all honesty Suguro just wanted him to explain it all quickly. He was dying to use the bathroom.

Yukio adjusted the sling resting on his left shoulder. "I suppose you might have an inkling of what I want to discuss."

"The... gun incident at Juuzou and Mamushi's wedding?" Suguro raised an eyebrow. Of course it was, what else would he want to talk about.

"Yes, that would be it." Yukio paused, watching for a moment at Suguro's knee bouncing relentlessly under the table. "First of all, I would like to largely apologise for my behaviour. It was wrong of me to intimidate you like that. Sometimes I... have these sudden changes in me. It's been occurring more frequent as of late."

"Okay...?" Suguro tensed slightly as he was met with a wave of desperation. He kept his hands gripping the side of the seat.

"I'd rather not delve into that right now so I'll keep it to that. Secondly, the reason i was so upfront with you is because I heard of your investigation with your master Lewin concerning the clone experimentation and I had a speculation that you must have found out something valuable with the our origins...."

Yukio explained on but Suguro kept zoning in and out. Subconsciously he slowly rocked on the spot, attempts to keep holding it in. He couldn't control it; his body was betraying him by the minute.

He felt a spasm and a small spurt escape the floodgates. He winced, groaning and let the hand resting on his lap grab his crotch. He squeezed his member to stop the leak from increasing any further.

Suguro's yelp interrupted Yukio mid-speech. "Er, Suguro? Are you alright?" He noted Suguro's flushed and squirmy state. He just could not keep still in that chair.

"Y-yeah I just- ah, need a minute." He rushed with his words, too desperate to construct a sentence. He angled away from Yukio and proceeded to shift and squirm on the seat. His skin felt like it was burning from all the friction and rubbing of his clothes. Whimpers were suppressed to breathy intakes.

"Would you like to use the restroom? We can pick this up later." Yukio suggested, feeling somewhat sympathetic to Suguro's desperate predicament.

"N-no, it's fine." Suguro turned back and leaned forward, hands gripping his member. It was the only thing that would keep him from pissing himself. "You can continue."

The situation wasn't fine. At all. He should have just taken the opportunity and gone. Stubbornness was taking over, and it really shouldn't when he had a matter of minutes on his hand before his body wouldn't take it any more.

"I won't be long, I promise." As soon as Yukio continued talking, it was clear his words were just filling up space, like white noise resonating in his ears. Then again, if Suguro did leave, Yukio would never confide in him like this ever again. He'd fall back to mentally suffering and closing in on himself. 

At the very least, Suguro was pretending he was listening. Yes he was bouncing in front of Yukio and he was holding himself like an infant, but he chimed in at various stages.

His trousers were getting wetter and wetter by the minute. His hands were shielding a sizeable damp patch that every little spurt and leak was contributing to. When they got longer, Suguro's actions got more frantic to cut them off.

After enduring a few minutes of this, Yukio saw Suguro suddenly freeze. Yukio kept silent, wondering if it was happening. A whispered " Fuck... " was choked out before he lowered his head in shame.

The classroom was filled with a quiet hiss, that tell-tale familiar noise. Warm liquid streamed out and pooled in his boxers and trousers before gushing out of the fabric and draining off all sides of the chair. A puddle collected on the ground and began to expand dangerously close to Yukio and Suguro's bag sets. Yukio noticed this immediately and quickly swiped both of their bags with his good hand. He made to stand, wordlessly watching the black fabric on Suguro's legs darken and the puddle wind its course around his feet, the chair legs and desk legs. 

Suguro kept his half-lidded eyes down, far too humiliated to look anywhere else. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe that he, a fifteen year old top student was wetting himself in a classroom, right in front of his joint classmate and teacher no less. Tears welled and stung his eyes but he kept blinking them back. The last thing he'd want to do now was start crying because of all of this.

His bladder seemed to empty indefinitely and all he could do was wait. Wait until it ended.

Yukio bit his lip, wholly unsure of what to do. He lamely stood there and looked around the room for a few moments before moving.

Suguro barely registered Yukio's hand gently squeezed his shoulder. The warmth was there for a second and gone the next. The loud splashing drained out Yukio scuffling around the room.

His stream slowed down to dribbles and finally coming to an end. He drew a shuddering breath and gained enough courage to look up, to catch whatever face Yukio was pulling.

The classroom was empty.

Suguro looked around but Yukio was gone. Where did he go? He noticed an empty bucket and mop had been conveniently placed behind him. A cloth and cleaning spray laid on the desk, to clean the chair. 

One look at the floor and Suguro could understand why these items were given to him at some point during his relieving. Bracing himself on the desk, he rose. Droplets escaped his trousers and added themselves into the rather large puddle below. He was sure going to be so late for Cram school but there was no way he was going in there in his wet clothes that reeked of piss. Pouring his micturition off the chair, he got to work.

As he did so he thought: Maybe that's Mr Okumura's way of saying sorry. He can care, after all.  

Chapter Text

Why now?

Why now, of all times, of all places , did she have to be oh, so desperate for the bathroom?

Shiemi asked herself this, as she stood there with her legs crossed tightly. Part of her felt so childish to face the demon while she trembled. The trembling wasn't out of fear though. It was more trembling as a consequence of forcing her body to hold it in while she slayed.

The blonde tamer was tired . She had no idea how long it had been since she encountered the demon but it sure felt like forever. It wasn't even a high-classed one; it was more of the lower-levelled one in all honesty. The only reason it was taking so long was only because her bladder was near bursting and sher had to divert her willpower between exorcising and controlling her sphincter muscles.

Her face was hot, sweat drops slowly running down the sides and her neck until they collided with her shirt collar. It was a little disgusting at just how much had pooled on the fabric but there was little she could do about that. Not only was her neck dampening, she realised that her underwear and the middle of her skirt had slowly been doing the same over the course of this fight.

Could she even call it a fight? It was certainly a pathetic one. Her normal self would be summoning sprouts and the like from her precious Nee and shoot them at her target. Maybe it would be defeated in one fell swoop, given that she was increasing in strength. Today, right now, she could just about manage waving her hand around and weakly give orders to Nee. Even her familiar picked up on it. Nee had shot her concerned whines every now and then to which she had to nervously smile and say "A-ah, don't worry Nee, I-I'm fine!" The reality was, of course, the complete opposite.

She gasped as she felt yet another leak escape her restraints and overlap the coldness in her underwear. Her teeth bit on her lip hard as she shut her eyes and begged her body to last just a little longer. Subconsciously, she slipped her hand in between her legs and felt herself move into the most desperate of potty dances.

It was a good thing that nobody else was here to witness her blatancy. Shiemi's humiliation would be beyond the scale. At least, nobody human was around. The demon was still right there but it wasn't smart enough to understand her predicament. If anything it might recognise her fumbling around as fear rather than something else. If it was smart enough, the pain of being punctured to death at irregular periods would be their higher concern.

She knew she only had a matter of minutes on her hand before things turned drastically worse. Her control was slipping through her fingers, quite literally at that. She managed to stop the last spurt from extending any further but she was getting dangerously close to her absolute limit.

Hopping on the spot, she debated over getting this over with or retreating for a moment and returning after she dealt with her urgent need. The demon could escape, maybe even regenerate if she left it alone.

No. I can't just leave!  She mentally cursed herself for even thinking of that. Not only was it risky, it was also highly humiliating to know that she ran away from a demon - a low-classed demon at that - just for a quick potty break. Official exorcists would never do that, no matter how desperate they were. They would keep fighting, stay focused on task until all demons were exorcised. She couldn't get used to escaping unless the fight was endangering her life. This was not.

No matter how heavy her bladder weighed in her pelvis, no matter how dire her need to go was, she wasn't leaving until the deed was done.

She pressed her free hand into her crotch for a brief moment before removing it. Shakily, she inhaled a deep breath and raked her fingers through her sweat-drenched fringe. Focus, focus. It was nearly impossible to do that but she had to push herself. Push herself harder than she had already been doing. You can do this. Not long now. She made eye contact with Nee and yelled out her final command.

The determination was worth it. She sighed audibly and fell to her knees at hearing that telling screeches. It would normally be deafeningly loud but it only felt like music to the exwire's ears.

"Haah, thank God..." She muttered to herself, hands limp in her lap. She stayed there for only a second longer. Though she was sitting down her bladder still throbbed. It throbbed harder now, if anything.

Careful to not stand up too suddenly, she brought herself to her feet again. "Thanks Nee, see you later!" At once, she swiped the summoning card from the floor and ripped it. Nee disappeared immediately and she promised herself she would explain it all to her familiar at a later stage.

She spun on her heel and practically dashed away from the clearing. She looked around frantically while keeping both her hands planted where it was needed the most. There weren't any toilets around. Of course there aren't, this is a forest! Not to mention, she had spent the last while or so trying to locate one to no avail. All hope was lost and she had to cave in and do the only alternative: a nature piss.

She spotted a moderately closed-in set of bushes. She hobbled off the path and ducked behind them. The enclosure would allow her some privacy at the very least. Her body knew what to do. Her underwear was gathered halfway down her thighs and she was crouching and ready in a matter of seconds.

Without much prompting, her muscles relaxed and she finally finally let go.

What followed was pure, ultimate sweet bliss. Her stream was strong, a loud hiss emanating from underneath her. Liquid splattered and puddled in the grass. It splashed against her shoes, a few droplets seeping into her white socks. She didn't care in the slightest that her legs weren't spread apart enough. All that mattered was that she was voiding, after hours of holding and holding.

When the relief finally hit her, she couldn't help but draw out the most lewd sound to ever escape her lips. It was long, uncontrollable and full of relief. She slid her eyes shut as she melted into the euphoria, hands relaxing their grip on her clothes.

What she didn't realise was that she had company.

Rin had caught her slip in between the bushes and chased after her. He was about to call out to her when he heard two things: The unmistakable sound of her voiding hitting the ground and her complete moans of relief.

It didn't take two and two to figure it out. He pressed himself against the tree nearest to him, eyes popping open. Oh shit, she's pissing! His breath was silent and shallow. Even the slightest of movement or noise would give him away.

As quietly as he could, he sunk down to the ground, knees drawn up. He placed his hands on top of his knees, fingers curling into his trousers. All he could do was listen until she finished.

Damn... She was desperate. The noises she made indicated that very clearly. He could feel the relief and it wasn't him who was doing it. He shut his eyes and relaxed, just as she was, immersing in that feel. It sounded good . In a way, he was glad for her, glad she had her moment.

The half-demon could only smirk to himself. It's not like I haven't been there before. More often than not, he found himself absolutely bursting to go after school or after a mission. There were many, many close calls throughout his fifteen years. That might be blamed on his smaller-than-average capacity. That, or combined with his heavy fluid intake.

The both of them waited until her stream died to only a few dribbles. Shiemi drew back from her trance into reality once she realised it was over. She fluttered her eyes open, a final sigh escaping her.

She shifted and wiggled around, letting the lingering droplets hanging from her genitals fall into her puddle. That, which she noted, was rather large. Afterwards, she realised she needed to wipe but had no tissues on her to do so. Rather embarrassingly, she snatched a large non-poisonous leaf from a nearby plant and used it as an alternative. It felt weird and a little tingly but at least she was dry.

He inhaled a breath as she shuffled around and stood up, pulling her underwear back on.

"Where is everyone else? I should radio them..." She mumbled to herself as her fingers found her radio device.

Rin perked up. Oh fuck, no no no, not here! He plucked the radio from his hip and frantically jammed his thumb on the volume wheel to turn it down. To his relief, he managed to before she started to speak into her one. Please don't blow my cover! He clutched onto the device in his hands, praying he wouldn't get caught.

He waited, curling in on himself, until her voice became distant. Once he was sure she was out of range, he let out the breath he was holding and stood back up.

Thank fuck. He felt shameful, prying in on his crush and closest friend like that. To be fair, it was purely unintentional but whether that counted as an excuse or not, he wasn't sure.

He continued on the path, loosely following the direction Shiemi ran off in. He winded the volume on his radio back up and listened to his friends reporting back.

He barely kept secrets from his blonde friend but if there was one he kept from her, it definitely would be this. 

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Miharu criticised about herself, it had to be her bladder.

She stopped in her tracks, bending at the waist just as an unforeseen wave of desperation struck her insides. She subconsciously let out a whimper, knees clamped together. She was in a rush to get home; a desperate rush. On a usual day, she'd leave school after four but today's circumstance was different. Just as she was done with her lunchtime library duty, Keita - yes, Suminoe-kun - approached her and asked of her help with homework.

The request had taken the blue-haired student by utter surprise. Having someone ask her for homework help when it would rather be her asking of others for help was certainly something new. She didn't think of herself as particularly smart. Though she was the pupil librarian on most days, her grades were only minimally above average. They were nothing to consider great potential, or at least that's how she perceived them as. So to be considered smart enough to be called to solve a few problems wasn't something to be taken of lightly.

Adding to that, it wasn't just anyone though. It was Keita .

Keita, the one who had her heart captured at the current time, asked of her. Keita, the one who she formed an attraction to sometime after that swift embrace he gave her after she returned his acceptance letter to him. She found herself stuttering when he pulled her over, fell to his knees and begged her to meet him in the library for math homework. Overly dramatic as it was, it seemed urgent. So, without much thinking, she immediately agreed. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to spend more time with their crush?

It wasn't just taking advantage, though. The session was productive as much as sociable. When asked what specific sections he was stuck on, it was practically the entire work set for the next day. It took a while, but they managed to trudge through all the calculus and equations together. It was a miracle, really. She felt flustered and a failure of a student but Keita continued to reassure her that she was very helpful. 

Overall it took them forty-five minutes. Totally worth it; forty-five minutes of just her and Keita. Just her and Keita.

She'd usually go to the toilet after the final lesson but in her excitement to meet up with Keita, she never did. The need never disappeared though. It pulsed in her lower abdomen periodically, but she had ignored it. Instead, she only shifted on her seat when it happened and poured all her focus into the task and not anything else. She couldn't afford to lose any time. A time like this may never come about again and she needed to savour it.

It only became apparent at just how much she delayed it when she stood up to pack her pencil case and books away. 

Miharu experienced this numerous times already. She'd make to stand after sitting for a while and gravity would crash all down in her bladder, her pent-up liquid sinking all too heavily above her sphincter muscles. This time she was stealthy at hiding the attack. She knocked over her textbook at the precise time of the sensation and so she was able to kneel down to collect it. At the same time, secretly, she briefly wedged the heel of her shoe and pressed down on it. She sat for a few moments to allow her body to recalibrate before casually standing back up as if nothing had happened. Keita didn't seem to pick up on anything, and happily waved at her before stepping outside and walking home with his younger sisters.

Her smile faded as she squirmed on the spot, biting her lip a little. Shortly after, she too left the school grounds.

With better judgement, she would remember that the school did have toilets that she could have used before leaving. Such desperation led to such haste, and it was only halfway into her walk home when she clicked that. She felt so irritated at herself when the realisation struck. Glancing back in the direction she travelled in and with some thought, she was too far away to go back. Not only too far away, but also too desperate to risk the journey back with dry underwear.

As much as she'd hate to admit it, she didn't have very long until she'd soak her underwear. This was why she was in such a hurry to get back home.

She had approximately fifteen minutes until her home was within reach. She'd break into a run on her road, fumble with the keys and stumble in. She'd slam the door, kick off her bag and shoes and bolt into the bathroom. Kouki'd be there but it wasn't as uncommon as a sight to see, so he'd let his older sister have the relief she craved before pestering her.

Oh, if only her bladder could last fifteen minutes.

After her wave somewhat subsided, she continued walking. Her next steps were hardly steps. She walked on the balls of her feet, bouncy on them. To anyone mildly aware, it was obvious what her predicament was. She couldn't hide it though; if she did try to suppress her almost-pee dance, there was the risk of losing control all together. She couldn't think like that, she was going to make it on time.

Her hands found the front of her skirt, fingers curling in onto the hem and clutching it. With added thought, she slipped off her backpack and placed it in front of her, shielding her front from the public. Just in case I leak... At least I can cover my wet spot.

At that, she felt the smallest of a spurt fight past her self-control and seep into her underwear. Holding her bag with one hand, she slipped her free one behind the bag and pushed her fingers into her crotch. Still walking, she rubbed her inner thighs together, forcing the friction to cut the leak short. It did, thankfully, but it only served her as warnings if she didn't hurry up and get to a bathroom soon.

I need to find a toilet! At this point, making it anywhere near her home was out of the question. With a quivering breath, she surveyed the surroundings. She was at the familiar high street a few roads off hers. There were plenty of stores on either side of the road. Plenty of places where there should be a bathroom to go use.

No, I can't. Remember what happened the last time? Many years ago, she had found herself in a situation similar to this, except that she was in another town. Too far away from the hotel, she found a still-open store and urgently asked for their bathroom. It was late, the shopkeeper was tired and he demanded she buy something before using it. She had no money on her, they were back in her room on the third floor, so all she could do was flee. At the very least, she made it outside the store before her bladder gave up on her. It was embarrassing, humiliating.

Since then, she had it implanted in her that one had to buy something before being allowed to use their bathroom. She'd do it this time; she had money. Well, emergency money that is. The only factor was, she would hardly be able to concentrate on the transaction or even what she was buying and end up with something really unnecessary. Maybe even have an accident just beforehand.

She couldn't risk it. She wouldn't risk it.

My only other option is to find a public restroom then.

Issue is, were there even any around here?

She probably should know the answer to this. Living here for the entirety of her life, it would be the bare minimum that she'd be acquainted with the different stores, transport and facilities in her area. She could hardly think off the top of her head of anything, let alone if there were working female restrooms. That left only one option: Search for one. Now.

She quickened her pace down the street, keeping her eyes peeled for that simplified female logo, or even a sign hoisted up anywhere. Her bladder couldn't take the jostling and she was leaking far more frequently than she'd like to. Keeping her form hunched, she continued down the pathway with silent prayers to whoever above this would end well. 

She got to the end of the street, with no success on locating. Miharu halted, eyes darting between each side on the road to choose where to look next. The halting did no good, and the longest spurt escaped her floodgates. Her eyes widened and she dropped her bag to the ground. With her hands now free, they flew to her crotch and kneaded into her in an overwhelming attempt to stop the too-long leak. Warmth filled her nether regions all too quickly, all too suddenly.

Just like her bag dropping, her bladder too seemed to drop.

Please... no... Not here...

Her control crumbled along with her willpower. The flow between her fingers only increased as her muscles gave way. The relief hit her only a few moments into it, to which she let out a small sob.

The last thing she did was untuck her skirt from between her legs to prevent it getting wet. Then, she accepted defeat once and for all.

Warm, small streams of urine winded down her closed thighs, small rivulets trickling in soft dark streaks on her knee-high socks. Once making their way past her ankles, the liquid gathered in her shoes, soaking into the soles and wetting them. The majority of her stream splattered obnoxiously loud onto the cool grey concrete, splashing into an ever-growing mess of a puddle beneath her.

Her eyes were clenched shut and her head low. She was unable to tell if anyone was watching her, maybe even laughing at her. Not that it was even wise to. Rather, she wanted to drown herself in the pee, anything to be taken out of this . For now, it would be hoped that people were respectable enough to walk past or be sympathetic to the situation.

The skin on her cheeks felt just as warm as her legs were and she registered that those were tears. They dripped down her jaw and landed in with her puddle, adding themselves to her humiliation in tangible form. A few choked sobs later and she began to bawl. Bawl like she did every time this happened, every time she proved she had the continence of an infant. Even her younger brother could hold his bladder better than she could. 

Miharu was only voiding for half a minute, but it seemed like half an hour. It always did.

Blearily, she opened her eyes to observe below her. The puddle had wormed around her bag and stretched all around her. She pulled the sleeve of her blazer to cover her palm and wiped at her eyes from behind her glasses. With a clearer view, she straightened up and stepped out of her mess. She miserably lifted her backpack off the ground. The bottom was dripping wet but so was the bottom of her skirt. At the very least, there wasn't a huge wet patch she would have to mask for the rest of the walk home. That she could be thankful for. Still, she held it in front of her as it would probably be too gross to place on her back, especially if it started to soak into her back.

She sniffled and with a sigh, made the walk of shame to her house.

Something needed to be done about her Enuresis.

Chapter Text

"Where are they..."

Lance slipped the heel of his boot in between his legs and jammed it right into his crotch. He'd use his hands but currently they were chained together in front of him and trapped to a tree.

The brunette was mislead so very badly. It was a weakness of his, being swayed by looks of a pretty woman. Hormones were a powerful thing, and he was struck with attraction when laying eyes on Nyma. She must have been the most beautiful intergalactic alien he had met from their past few months out in space. Her eyes resembled dark amethysts and her lips were pillowy and bubblegum-like. Her charms entranced him and he immediately slipped into her trap.

He didn't see it coming. Not one bit. There was nothing to suggest she had inner motives aside from having fun with one of the five saviors of the galaxy. Nyma giggled at his muscle flexing, she was friendly with him. She took a genuine - or so he thought - interest in the paladin's adventure so far and how riding one of the five Lions on a daily basis was like. They even took the Blue Lion for a spin at her request, seeing how her interest was especially piqued at that.

Everything seemed to go well until she asked for his hand. Once Lance did, it was like a switch had been flicked in her brain; she spun him round and pinned his hands forcefully. Up until then, he legitimately believed he had successfully impressed her. He felt like utter crap right now and it wasn't limited to falling for her cunningness. He'd been stuck here for the longest hour and now he desperately needed the bathroom.

Oh, what Lance would do to use his hands to help him hold. A childish action it may be, but it would help a lot right now. Though, it was simply torturous to just imagine the periodic moments of relief that sliding his fingers along the exterior of his suit and squeezing his tucked away member. He grunted to himself for thinking of it, continuing to wiggle on the spot. There was nothing else he could do but that. Of all things, his bladder decided to fill itself and demand him to take a piss. Why now? 

His helmet lay to the left of him, within reach. At the very least, he had managed to drag it there using his feet and advantageous flexibility. It took a lot of straining and kicking of his legs to do it as it was slightly out of reach. With it, the team had been alerted of Nyma and Rolo whisking away the Lion from Lance and leaving him stranded until they located it.

With nothing else to do, aside from fighting his urges of course, Lance was only resorted to keep talking into the helmet's built-in microphone.

Issue is; he already spoke to it a minute ago. And the minute before then. And the minute before that. It must have been annoying for the other six - yes, including Coran and Allura who were stationed in the Castle-ship. His dear Blue Lion was now missing, on it's way to be delivered to the Galra. None of the seven had any remote idea whereabouts she could be so all they - minus one blue Paladin - could do was to search on nearby planets from the one Lance was sitting alone in.

A sharp ache surged through Lance's insides and he groaned, shifting about on the spot before speaking up again. "Hey, g-guys? Any update?"

"Lance, we're busy here!" Pidge's voice squawked through the speaker. "Just keep quiet and hang tight. We've sent Keith though the asteroid field..."

"You said that last time! Just please, hurry!"

"Hurry?! We know we can't afford to waste time, but you're the only one here not on a time limit."

I am, though! Technically it was true, or so his straining muscles thought so. 

He could hear Keith audibly groaning as he sped after the culprits. "Your lion was stolen, Lance! Do we really need to spell that out for you?"

"No, but I really need to..." Lance fell short of his sentence. No, he absolutely would not admit his need. He needed to hold onto what pride he had left. "I-I just need to get out of here quick!" He was not keeping it subtle that he very urgently needed to be set free from this damned tree.

The others had informed that Keith was blasting lasers at the blasters of the bounty hunters' ship. With all the attacking, Lance hoped that his Lion was still intact inside their ship. He'd never been so bonded to anything as he was with his Blue Lion. She was stunning and he had a real connection with her. Of course, the paladin-lion bond was essential to power it, but to Lance, it felt almost spiritual.

On an more important note, without the blue lion, they couldn't form Voltron. Without Voltron, they couldn't destroy the Galra empire and mostly, couldn't defeat Zarkon. Which is why it was imperative she didn't go missing for too long.

His bladder felt so badly full in his pelvis. All the liquid contained in there pressed on top of his abdominal muscles just above his urethra, wanting to push past the clenched muscles, wanting to overcome his willpower. Just writhing on the spot wasn't enough to keep it in so he began to thrust his hips back and forth. It was a make-do attempt at holding it but he was quickly running out of ideas.

How much did I even drink..? Lance tried to backtrack his consumption of the day. The last thing he remembered having was the space goo he was made right after waking from that coma. The food was a little on the wet side and he probably had a drink to go alongside that. That was awhile ago, though. Unless it had taken that long to circulate through his body.

"He stopped the ship!" Hunk's voice came through after a few minutes of pure silence. Unfortunately, Lance was far too occupied in his desperation to hear that and it went right through his ears. He wriggled right down and pressed his crotch to the ground and began to grind it against the rocks. It was difficult to feel any relief through his thick suit and underclothes but he might as well try.

Nobody was speaking for the next few minutes. All the Blue Paladin could do now was wait. Wait for any signs of hope, wait for them to capture Rolo and Nyma, whisk the Blue Lion off them just like they did, and finally come to rescue him.

To Lance's joy, that came faster than he'd thought.

"Yeah!"

A laugh came out from the helmet speakers. Wait... is that Keith? Lance nor the others had heard Keith laugh much in the time they had spent together. His laugh was odd; it felt hearty, smug and full of accomplishment. Lance opened his eyes, eyes flitting to the source next to him.

"Hey Lance, I got your lion back!" Lance could feel the smile Keith was pulling.

Lance perked up immediately at that. "Thank you, Keith." His brows furrowed in gratitude. "Now can you come and unchain me?" He pulled a toothy grin, hoping Keith could sense it.

There was a pause. "What's that..? I, uh - Y-you're cutting out, I can't- I can't hear you..."

Lance's face dropped, screwing into an outright scowl. "Oh come on! I thought we bonded!" It certainly was not the time to be joking around. He needed them here, and now. Keith went silent; entirely on purpose of course. "Keith..? Buddy? My man?" 

'My man?' Where did that come from?! He was letting his tongue run on its own course. Hopefully that comment flew past Keith's dense brain. 

A small chuckle came after a few prolonged seconds. "Hey, don't worry. Everyone, I will go and fetch Lance." With that, he lifted the Red Lion off the ship and sauntered off in the direction of Lance's location.

"Good plan. We will deal with them and meet Keith and Lance back on the planet Nyma and Rolo were originally on." Shiro's voice was the last command before everyone went into action.

Once the other three seemed to be preoccupied, Lance spoke to Keith. "How far are you?" He tried not to keep his voice strained, just as another wave of desperation sprang in his lower abdomen. He immediately clamped his mouth shut and summed up all the effort he could to ride it out. He whipped one leg over the other just to be safe.

"Look, I'll be there in a few dobashes."

Lance nodded at that, only realising after a few seconds that Keith couldn't exactly see him nodding. " 'Kay, thanks Keith." His response was blunt and short, not intended.

How long is a quiznakking dobash again? He couldn't possibly rack his brain for an Earth alternative. He prayed that was equivalent to a minute, or shorter. 

Just a few minutes, then. Lance shuffled back onto his knees and kept his eyes pealed above him, waiting for any movement of red.

Minutes felt far longer than the should have been but at last, Keith arrived. Never did the Cuban think he'd be so happy, so relieved to see that Red Lion, yet here he was. It flew at great speed, descending a few kilometers in front of the tree. The mouth of the Lion opened, and Keith came running out of it.

Lance didn't realise he was bouncing up and down as much as he was until Keith neared closer.

"You're so impatient!" Keith called out, kneeling down in front of the desperate Paladin. "Here." Keith pulled out his Blade of Mamora and with one swift slash, the chains tying Lance's hands were broken with a satisfying shing. 

Lance drew a heavy sigh of gratitude. His hands darted right to where they needed to be. He sat there, in front of Keith, attempting at grabbing himself through the suit. He leaned forward, and tried to still as much as he could. It was futile and he could feel his cheeks heat up.

"Oh, that's why you wanted us to pick you up so quickly."

It seemed Keith wasn't dense enough to not understand what Lance's blatant potty dance meant. It added all the more to the shame and made Lance groan half out of frustration, half out of desperation.

"Yes. Nngh, please don't tell the others. I'm serious."

Keith's wordless nod convinced him enough that he'd keep his word for it. The Red Paladin's hands neared to Lance and he was pulled up slowly. Lance kept his position hunched, legs winded around each other like vines as he was unable to straighten up. The shift in gravity made things far, far worse, threatening the liquid to push out despite his self-restraints.

Now standing, mostly, it became aware to Lance at just how wet his underclothes were. He felt himself leak sporadically while he was awaiting his rescue but parts of the fabric clinged to his thigh skin.

He knew had a matter of minutes before they'd get much wetter. Unable to keep still, Lance glanced around to the tree he was just at. His mind thought fast and he spun around to face it, shaky hands working on undoing his armour.

The individual pieces were thrown around carelessly and rather violently, clanking to the ground one by one. Who's idea was it for their armour to have so many goddamn parts to it? It was a struggle, considering one hand was planted at his crotch to stop him leaking any further while the other stripped away at himself.

Lance noticed Keith's shadow loom behind him. He was still staring at him all this time instead of politely turning around like a normal person. He glared at the raven-haired man, standing there like a lemon.

"Help me out of this! I can't wait any longer!" His voice cracked at the end and he turned his focus back to loosening the black body-suit worn under the armour.

Keith complied, grabbing the collar of Lance and pulling the top of the body-suit down. The Cuban shrugged and wriggled out of it, letting it drop to his mid-thighs. Just before freeing himself from his thin underclothes, Lance motioned for Keith to turn around and the half-Galra did at once, spinning on his heel with slightly flushed cheeks.

Yes, this was definitely something neither'd want to bring up ever again.

Chapter Text

"Cadets, this is the training facility."

The new class assembled around the white spacious room, glancing around the perimeter in silent mesmerisation. The Professor - their Professor for the aircraft practicals - strolled in front of the gathering, hands tidily tucked at his back. They broke their clasp so he could briefly gesture as he spoke.

Pidge kept to the front of the group, a strategic move so she could get the best view of the room. Her hand moved to the side of her face to tuck a strand behind her ear. The action made her think: Was that too girly?, and she pressed her hands down in front of her to prevent a repeat of that. If she was going to embrace this new alias as 'Pidge Gunderson', it was in her best interests to keep it from slipping anyhow. 

She focused her energy back to the new surroundings. A single, large unit caught everyone's eyes the instant they walked through that door. 

That giant, grey craft sitting bang on in the middle.

It hit all the right spots in the young cadet's head. The wing door was shut but the integrity of the exterior was clear enough; panels of various shades of grey scattered across the outside. Those, she figured, must compose of the propulsion system such as motors, generators and the like. 

She couldn't even see the inside and she was that excited already. If it wasn't for the fact that cadets had to act in such a composed, obeying nature she'd make a run to it and fire it up. 

"Please gather around here!"

The sound of the Professor's voice loudening again snapped her back to the class. Some classmates had formed a small semi-circle around the front of the craft, where their Professor currently stood. With haste, she joined the rest and peered over to listen to his explanations of the vehicle in question.

It was when she stopped walking and was now still, that she realised she was finding difficulty to do just that.

She fidgeted with her orange Garrison suit, her hands pulling at the front hem of it. Behind her hands marked the source of her discomfort. The unwanted heaviness of her bladder settled right in her lower abdomen; a concentrated weight that only increased with time. She listened on of course, but couldn't help but bite part of her inner lip at the same time. Pidge straightened her back right when she felt tempted to bend forward at the growing pressure.

It was in the period before break when she became aware of her need. Being the ever-committed student she was, she stayed sat in her seat and continued to jot down her notes at a blinding speed. It happened time and time again in class and her natural reaction was to just hold it until the next break. No biggie. 

However, on the way to the bathroom at break, she caught the sight of her two new classmates - Hunk and Lance. They seemed to catch her at the same time and hurried over to her, striking up a conversation. At once, her need was forgotten and she got lost in great discussions with the two as they sat on a cafeteria table and ate food. The three had only met a few days prior and they already could talk for so long like long-term best friends. That was probably a reassuring indication they'd be friends for a long time.

In hindsight, it should have been more of a priority than the hazel-haired cadet put it to be. Because now, as she was in the middle of an hour-long session and fighting the urge, it became an issue. 

Not too bad of an issue, though. She'd been worse, definitely. It only served as a minor distraction and it was more of a hassle to hold it and have it be in constant reminder. At the moment, those reminders came in the form wave-like motions under her stomach, sent to her brain. That wasted valuable space in the intake more and more of the Garrison and their ever-intriguing gadgets and mechanisms. 

One thing she may be grateful for was that her bladder was not of a weak kind, despite its smaller size. It laid on rather the strong side, something to be prideful for. Pinpointing it solely on the squabbles her and Matt had over the bathroom in the morning might be accurate. This, in conjunction for the amount of extra studying around advanced physics late at night, led to an increase of holding strength. Maybe all that determined bouncing on her desk chair hadn't been all that bad overall.

Now wasn't the time to marvel at such things. Pidge huffed quietly, drawing her legs closer together to at least subside some of the desperation signals. In addition, she felt her toes curl inwards to help cope with it. As urgent as her need to relieve herself may seem, the smallest percentage of her brain was concentrated on that. Through it all, she still paid very close attention to the lecture.

Eventually, the Professor fiddled around with the wings and lifted open the craft, exposing its even more intricate inside. Pidge just about managed to contain her excitement, sinking her teeth into her thumb as she studied it very carefully.

Seeing it as sketches, in books, in documentaries could never equate to seeing one in real life. As an odd fact, it seemed much larger on the interior than it looked like. She shuffled a little forward, eager as ever to absorb the information of each compartment handed out to the class.

Her questions, constant at that, were rushed; half in overwhelming awe and half from another reason. Lance kept glancing at the enthused cadet next to him, almost rolling his eyes at Pidge's inner geekiness slipping out with her words. He's such a nerd.

Her bombardment of questions and added facts came to a slow. It conveniently coincided with her bladder giving out a more prominent twinge. Not to the extent of having her squirm because of it, but enough to make her internally wince. She pursed her lips, taking deep but small breaths and waited it out. This was certainly not a lesson she'd want to miss a minute of.

I'll just go at lunch.

Lunchtime came shortly after and Pidge made it a priority this time to actually go instead of forgetting again. She hurried in the direction she thought they were. She came to the corridor where the female toilets were before falling short a few inches away from the door.

Wait, no! I'm supposed to be a guy!

Had it only now occurred to her that for the duration of her time here, she'd have to use the male toilets?! That was a factor she completely missed out in this whole plan to apply with a different alias to 'Katie Holt'. It felt like a stupid to her. Cursing to herself, she spun on her heel and hunted for the opposite gender's bathroom. 

Luckily it wasn't that far off the female one. An advantage was that it was less busy at the current time. While females tended to wait until these breaks to use them, males seemed to go when they please, or when things got especially bad. It was half-half for Pidge's case, though.

Huh, maybe I am adapting as Pidge Gunderson faster than I'd imagined...

She dove past the door, eyeing around for a free, clean stall. What caught her eyes first was the open, obvious... urinals. She grimaced, letting out a small, disgusted grunt at the mere sight of them. They put her off, even at the thought of it. The idea of boys being so open while in the act of something that should really be more private - not to mention, the extroverted nature of urinals and the accentuated splashing - put her off it all.

One of the first-years was using one, which added up even more to her disgust. At once she faced her head away from the cadet relieving and ducked into the nearest stall to get her relief.

She locked the door with a smooth click-clock and inspected the area. Good, clean. Lifting the lid up, she quickly pulled down her white uniform trousers and underwear and sat down on the toilet seat.

Her stream wasn't too overbearingly loud, thankfully. She picked at her uniform while she waited for her voiding to end. In the midst of it, she became overly aware of her position. Anyone in the next stall would know she was sitting down to pee. Anyone knew that standing up to do it was in a man's pride; sitting down may as well be frowned upon.

Eyes widening, she lifted her lower legs backwards enough to get her feet off the view of others. It was a dangerous game she was playing, pretending to be a guy when she truly was a girl, and she couldn't let the risk of this come out. If Iverson caught wind of her identity as that girl that broke in years back, no doubt will she be kicked out a second time and be put on permanent warning.

She sighed to herself, grasping at her ankles to keep them high enough. She had to get through training at the Garrison successfully. Even if that did mean doing it in the most unconventional of ways.

I'll just have to get used to this.

Chapter Text

As soon as the red door were shut behind them, the two spun right round, shut the door and pressed their arms on the door. The pigeons, summoned by Mr Pigeon, the perpetrator, flocked after them and drove into it. The pigeons collectively managed to make a noticeable dent in the door, as if trying to break through the aluminium metal.

With Ladybug and Chat Noir pushing all of their weight into the act, the birds dented the door for a moment further before, seemingly, giving up. Their hands stayed where they were, waiting for any other attack. There was none, and so the two heroes of Paris slumped to the ground immediately, both drawing sighs of relief.

The effort of Chat Noir's backside hitting the floor vibrated on the insides of his lower abdomen. In particular it shook a certain organ; a very full one at that. Chat Noir gasped internally, tensing his thigh muscles in a great effort to subside the torturous shaking. It did, but not without serving him a reminder that he really, really ought to find a bathroom soon.

"I'm not done with you yet!" Mr Pigeon, who was still floating on the pigeon-composed aeroplane. His voice distanced more and more as they assumed him to be 'flying' away. He cooed an overly obnoxious "Roo~!" that they could still hear even while inside a building.

Great. Now that they had lost track of him, there was no telling what he'd be up to next. Akumatised citizens were unpredictable in their plans. This was something they found out from the very start of their superhero professions of sorts; the superheroes had to stay on their toes, stay alert. 

Because of this, it was imperative they snuff him out as soon as they can. What this meant, to the desperate black-clothed boy was that he didn't have the time to sneak away for a few minutes and relieve himself.

Goodness, he wanted no more than to do just that. The need had been gnawing at him ever since this afternoon at school, right before they were called on duty. Chat Noir - or Adrien, outside of his superhero persona - had been meaning to slip into the bathroom but had no chance to do so. It was the school fashion competition and because his father was the main judge for it, he was also to be a 'sub-judge'. He had to stay stationed in the hall until the competition hit its deadline.

Ladybug's tapping of her foot against the floor drew Chat Noir off his trance. He whipped his head to her, noticing her already metres away from her, looking at him with that impatient yet somewhat cute pout on her face. She crossed her arms for a moment.

"Come on! Mr Pigeon's going to get away if we don't move now!" She waved her hand, motioning for him to get up off the floor.

He took the final opportunity to lean a little forward and press his crotch down on the cold soothing floor. As discreetly as he could, he shifted his hips in an attempt to grind himself for relief. It lifted only a little pressure and then he had to stop. Any more and he'd fear Ladybug would pick up on his rather embarrassing predicament.

That, of course failed.

His Lady might resemble a 'Ladybug' but she certainly was eagle-eyed. Her vigilance sprang into action as she watched him writhe with desperation. That, along with the uncomfortable strain crossed on his face connected the dots. A moment of realisation flitted across her features. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her expression into one of mild annoyance.

"Ugh, no we don't have time for that! Hold it until we de-evilise the Akumatised!"

Here we go...

Accepting that he had to delay his need for now, he reluctantly stood up and followed after Ladybug. He was slow, she was moving way faster than he was. He wanted to speed up but he just couldn't. Instead he stayed silent, chewing on his lip as he tried his very best to keep his pace up.

The sounds of the superheroes' pounding of their feet and the rattling of the metal stairs filled the silence as they ran. Halfway through this otherwise silence, a familiar chime rang through. Chat Noir looked down at his hand. The four circles above the fluorescent green cat paw had been reduced from four to three. The countdown. He didn't have long now until he would transform to his normal self.

Chat Noir halted where he was. Unfortunately, that caused yet another leak to dribble his aching muscles and collect on the inside of his suit.

"I've gotta get out of here before my secret identity is revealed!" He glanced back to Ladybug, who had also stopped in her tracks. He jiggled his leg, trying to keep his body moving. And before I leak anymore, he thought to himself. He'd keep that in his head for now.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to let the cat out of the bag!" The bluenette remarked, with a casual shrug. After that comment, she continued to run down the metal stairs, encouraging Cat Noir to follow suit.

That was a half-decent joke. He would have been ecstatic at the fact she was taking the opportunity to deliver cat puns just like he usually did. However, he barely took note of it. All of his willpower focused on keeping the floodgates shut and to hold back the torrent that was so eager to push out of him so urgently.

"Ha-ha, v-very funny..." He mumbled to himself. He descended down the steps, internally cursing himself for going down them so quickly. His bladder jostled in him with every step and with every shake, he winced. Thankfully, his Lady had already sped ahead of him and left  through the double doors on the very bottom floor. He drew his hand to his crotch and squeezed it, bringing small relief to his overfilled bladder.

He eventually caught up with Ladybug, who was now standing behind the crowd of people at the front by the glass doors. He ran to her side and tried to grab a sense of the situation at hand.

"Ladybug! Cat Noir!"

Just then, the ring on Chat Noir's finger chimed once more, a final reminder that he needed to get out of there this moment. It was imperative he did so. Not only because he risked his identity unravelling: as both the famous teenage-model Adrien Agreste of Paris and also one of two heroes of Paris.

He was sure that, simultaneously, he would humiliate himself if he stood still for a moment longer.

To accompany that thought, another desperation wave pulsed in the very base of his abdomen. The floodgates wavered for a moment or two, slipping on their hold. He squeaked a little as he felt yet some more warmth in his nylon suit. This leak overlaid the previous leak just moments ago that had now became cold and clammy.

The wave threatened more to be released, and Chat Noir had no choice but to clench his teeth hard and bounce around on the spot. Ladybug, who stood beside him, quickly took note of this. A subtle smirk winded up her lips; he really was desperate.

He would have been humiliated that she, of all people, was taking enjoyment at his overwhelming need. Though, all that all that mattered in that instant was not having an accident all over himself.

In their missions fighting alongside each other, she picked up of a rather interesting fact about her partner in crime. It was made clear that he had a bladder that leaned towards the smaller side. At least, it was either that or it just so happened that he really needed the bathroom every single time an Akuma infested someone.

The Mayor of Paris ran to the pair, hands thrown up and worry creasing on brows. "I'm in great danger of losing money if my guests leave Paris! You are going to get rid of those pigeons, aren't you?"

Chat Noir had to speak up now, whether or not it reduced the possibility of Ladybug going out with her. That, surprisingly, didn't matter right now to the young model. Not even the embarrassment that he was doing a blatant pee dance in front of his crush mattered.

"C-course we are, but before we do..." He lowered his tone, leaning closer to the mayor and nervously smiling. "I-I have an urgent need."

"An urgent need?" There was a moment's pause from Andre. " Ah , I see!"

Chat Noir would later be thankful that the Mayor understood what he meant by that.

Andre nodded his head in the direction behind them. "Head to the Royal Suite."

He wasn't even done speaking before Cat Noir bolted towards that vague direction. He let out a shaky whine all the way into the elevator.

"There's paper in there! Or perhaps you'd prefer... A litter tray ?" He humoured the situation.

Oh God, anything at this point! "Er..? Oh right, n-no need for litter." He hunched forward, fighting back yet another wave thrashing about on his insides. "But could I have some camembert?"

Andre nodded at that and sent one of his servants to accompany Chat Noir. The well-suited man slipped in through the closing doors and pressed a button without a glance. The last thing he saw was Ladybug's coy smile widening. Dangit.

On the short lift ride up, Chat Noir could also feel a rise in his heavy bladder. In a sense, it lifted a little pressure off his pelvis and for just a few seconds, he could relax. Relax enough to not continue to dance on the spot behind the servant. Once the doors opened again, the both of them were out and hurrying towards their destination. The French servant opened the double doors leading to the bedroom and motioned for the younger boy to follow. Chat Noir pushed past him, nattering a high-pitched "Excuse me, sorry! Emergency!" and slamming the doors shut.

He pressed his back against the door, breath shallow from the effort of holding. It was then he realised his body had began a slow but steady stream into his clothes. 

Oh no! He blinked about twice before a knock resounded on the other side. Gasping and attempting to close his muscles in, he flung open the door.

"How'd you like your camembert..?"

"RUNNY!" He shrieked, proceeding to slam the door on him once more. He couldn't even count five seconds before another knock came.

"Unpasteurised camembert, matured for use?"

"THANKS!" He snatched the covered metal dish and slammed the doors for a third time in that minute. He involuntarily shuddered, as the stream gave up on being weak and blasted to a much stronger one.

Urine trickled its way down both legs of Chat Noir's, coating them in its warm yet familiar feel. Quivering, shallow sighs sifted through his lips as the relief spread throughout him. He let his eyelids close, falling into just how great it felt to have his bladder finally let go of that torment. 

He sunk further against the door, bracing himself with his arms pressed hard against the plush red panels. He clutched his fingers around the edge of the plate, feeling his knuckles grow white at the pressure. It rattled against all the trembling. The more he emptied, the less his bladder pressed against his skin-tight suit, aching less now. All he could do now was listen to the hissing in his lower regions and the pattering of the liquid onto the wooden flooring. 

Part of the way through his micturition, he heard the final terminating bleep sound and the clothes on him begin to loosen. His hair laid soft on his forehead and his casual clothes hung on his slim form.

It was soon over and Adrien opened his eyes to assess the damage. His jeans were far beyond soaked, alongside his orange sneakers, socks and part of the rug that the puddle had reached to. His face was well warm, red from relief and from how tense his whole body had been until it happened. With a defeated sigh, he lifted himself off the wooden door and stepped out of his puddle.

Plagg lay on the four-poster bed, watching Adrien intently. The Kwami was tired, exhausted but had enough strength to keep sympathetic eyes on the sodden teenager. He slowly approached Plagg, carrying the necessity in his hands. With a sad smile, he placed it on the bed and lifted the round cover, revealing a block of hot, fresh camembert. "You want a bit?"

Plagg sprang up with the smell of the reward hitting him. "Mmm, my gooeyness~!" One grin more and he sunk his small mouth into the cheese, stuffing his face wholly into the soft food. Adrien was about to join him on the bed but was reminded he really shouldn't. He might soak the bed sheets too.

He leaned against the bed frame, half-smiling at his Kwami. "Eat up, buddy. Ladybug needs help."

He legs began to buckle, still exhausted from all the abuse he did to himself, not to mention the accident he just had. He made to crouch in front of the bed, placing his arms on top of his knees and sinking his head into it in complete shame. Teenagers shouldn't be dealing with incontinence. Not past the acceptable stage, at least. Especially not the famous model Adrien Agreste.

Chapter Text

...Open your eyes...

The sandy-haired boy lifted his all-too-heavy eyelids, keeping them half-lidded. His vision was blurry, trying to focus on the chandelier that lay overhead, laden with fluorescent blue patterns.

 

" Open your eyes."

 

" Wake up, Link."

Link blinked slow and wearily. It took a considerable amount of effort to fully open his eyes, lie the voice had been commanding him to. The chandelier came into focus and his brain began to awaken.

His skin suddenly felt cold and he realise that the body of water he had been laying in began to drain. It was almost like someone pulled a metaphorical plug and the water disappeared in seconds. Link rested his head on the hard pillow-like block beneath him. He kept his head still but shifted his eyes around the ceiling, trying to get a grip of where he was at the current moment. 

He blinked and once he gained enough strength, he placed his hands squarely on the base of the rock bath and levered himself to sit up. He let out a groan; his limbs felt so dormant, so lifeless. 

He took a moment to observe himself, take a look down at his body. He was bare. Almost all of his skin was exposed save for a single pair of short-trunks covering between his waist and his mid-thighs. The stark difference in temperature between the waters he previously was in and this room assaulted him once more, a chill spiking up the length of his body. He shivered involuntarily, yet it hurt. His hands found their way to opposite arms, clutching at the skin of the upper regions. His teeth chattered a little at the same time, some time being taken to control his actions before they subsided.

He also noted that between his navel and the waistband of his shorts, there was a distinct and rather concerning bulge. Curiously, he brought a finger down and prodded the protruding bump. It didn't do much, save for sending a different type of shudder through his body. He decided it was better to leave it untouched.

With a better view now, he surveyed the room with a turn to his head. It was dark but there were a few things he could see. For one, a plethora of intricate gold designs spread across all the walls, delicate curls and curves in amongst them. Where there were not these designs, there were orange fluorescent circles. Lines of the same colour joining them in a similar fashion to a dot-to-dot. Across the room, there were wooden double doors and to the left of it, a small stand was placed. He could barely make out a subtle blue light glowing from it.

Link stretched his arms towards the rim of the small ring, gripping it. He heaved and shuffled his body towards the edge, almost wriggling over. He clambered over and swung his legs on the rim, pausing as he felt a substantial amount of jostling in the organ that lay behind. It was odd to the future hero. It felt round and completely packed. Whatever it was, it must have been like that for however long he had been here. 

With a push of his hands, he hopped off the bath and landed onto the ground.

Then, he felt an overwhelming heaviness in his lower abdomen. It then clicked; the disturbingly large thing pressing outwards was an exceedingly full bladder.

Not even a second after his feet hit the floor and the gravity shifted all at once. The liquid withheld was dragging down, sitting so heavily over his closed muscles. With a loud and pained gasp, he hunched over, hands clutching his stomach. It would not subside and so the only thing he could do now was move forward while paying close attention to this newly-found problem. He took slow steps, keeping his fingers cupped over his bladder. Each step, each movement felt doubled inside him. Link whimpered alongside the jostling, hobbling over at a snail's pace to the other side.

The aching in his bladder only grew upwards. It was so much worse than how it felt to be walking on legs that didn't want to cooperate. It didn't help that his wobbly steps resulted in even more shaking of the overfilled organ, tormenting him. His floodgates strained to keep themselves held shut, tiring already.

He lifted his head once arriving at the stand. It must have sensed his arrival, somehow, for a slab shot up from the circular piece. It rotated ninety degrees clockwise, the central rectangular piece flipping to the opposite side before standing upright.

" That, is a Sheikah Slate." The mysterious woman's voice piped up. " Take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber."

Despite the ancient nature, it worked like a machine way beyond its era. Removing one hand from his crotch, Link stepped forward and took a hold of the artefact. It was heavy, so he reluctantly let his other hand join. His winded legs would do the holding of the other heavy object for now.

The screen lit up at the young man's contact, a foreign sign glowing on it. A middle-toned ping sounded out at the same time. In the design, a teardrop drew out of the eye, both contained within a circle with five dots on the circumference. Though, as he stared further at it, there was a sense of familiarity to it. Where had he seen this before..?

The panel rotated and sunk back into itself before the panels of the door lifted up. He lost concentration for a moment, a few drops of warm liquid dripping out of his member and seeping into the folds of his trunks. Quickly, he shoved the acquired item into his side bag and jammed his hands up his crotch.

The next room was filled with various objects. A few barrels and two treasure chests were the immediate ones. Three indigo-blue lanterns hung on two walls further down the room.

His breathing spiked as the bladder heaviness became too much for the poor boy. He found he could no longer take a further step. He proceeded to writhe on the spot, hopping from one bare foot to the other in his best attempts at keeping his floodgates shut for a little longer. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, the effort of holding it way, way too painful.

The second-long spurt was incredibly tempting. And oh, all he wanted to do right now was to have the pain end. He couldn't hold it any longer. He couldn't . He needed to relieve himself this instant.

As he frantically searched around for some sort of receptacle, his eye caught a series of pots sitting on the side. His eyes widened as he considered it. They were small and the sheer amount he was holding back felt quadruple the size of them.

For the second time, his floodgates faltered. Another spurt, a few seconds longer this time, escaped through his muscles and overlapped the patch of cold fabric. He sunk his teeth on his lips hard, fighting, fighting. 

Without further doubt, he lurched towards the much too inviting pots. He knelt down and pulled at his waistband until his shorts hung at his knees. He snagged the nearest pot and aimed his member into the hole. He was still leaking and the small stream lapsed into a strong one without warning.

He slouched forwards, bracing one hand flat against the floor as he relieved. It took a while of emptying before he could finally acknowledge the relief. Once it did, it felt immensely euphoric. He expelled an embarrassing moan-like sigh, his legs slipping further apart as he sunk further into the ground. Urine splashed inside the ceramic container, continuously filling. The hissing and splashing was the only noise filling the otherwise silent room. He sat there for a good minute or two, waiting for the signs of his stream coming to any sort of end. It felt like it never would and it made him overly worried at just how much he was holding.

The process had tired him already and he'd only been awake for a few minutes. Once done, he stood back on wobbly feet, wriggling his shorts back on his hips. The cold, damp patches clung uncomfortably to his skin. 

Looking back at the misused pot, he could see it was full almost to the brim. Even though it was dark around so the colour couldn't be noticed, one whiff of that pungent smell and it would be obvious it was bodily waste contained in there. Grimacing, he looked around, wondering what to do to hide this. Eventually he decided on stacking a pot over that one to mask the smell. He stacked the other ones likewise so that it looked uniform at the very least.

"Haah..." Link sighed to himself. The scene played over and over in his mind, heating his cheeks all the more. To distract himself, he sauntered over to the treasure chests to see what was stored inside. 

A pair of well-worn trousers and an old shirt were found in both of them. He slipped them on almost immediately. It warmed his skin considerably and helped tone down the shivering. To add, the trousers would trap heat inside them and dry the wet patches. Soon, it would be forgotten that whole ordeal happened. There would be no physical evidence, either.

Now, to move forwards.

Chapter Text

"So this is Lake Towada..."

Lake Towada lay just before the Okumura brothers. It stretched over a considerable length, frozen. A layer of ice glazed over the surface, the snow falling from the sky and collecting over the top, much like it did with the grass surrounding the lake and all the roads in this quaint town. The sight caught even the eyes of a indoorsy person like Yukio. He paused the investigation and drew a hot breath from the sight, drawn by amazement. His glove-covered hands slipped into his trouser pockets, gleaning his eyes along the icy waters.

Rin too paused his surveying of the perimeter to take in the main attraction of the town. He straightened up from his hunching, mouth slightly agape.

A smile breached Rin's features and he huffed just the same. He glanced to Yukio, standing a few metres away from him, then back at the subject.

"Yeah, it's pretty!"

In all fairness, Rin did believe it was. Though, his mind was entirely focused on something else it deemed more important. The pressing problem never made itself forgotten and figuratively poked at him. He inhaled a sharp breath, sharper than the cold around him and crossed his legs at a casual level. His hands buried themselves deeper into his coat pockets, feeling around for his junk through his thick trouser fabric and tried to squeeze himself to the best of his ability. Through the trousers and the even thicker coat, he could barely get a proper hold of the desired organ but he groped what he could. 

Palms and fingers pressed around his crotch in a frantic pace. His varied attempts at the grabbing brought small bursts of relief that were good for a few moments but craved to be longer, to be more relieving.

Oh crap, even thinking of that word, relieving , sent his urgency at a higher level. It's all he wanted to do for quite a while now; relieve himself! Rin found himself begin to rock his hips backwards and forwards, trying to aid his body along with his hands to hold back the flood contained within him. His legs knotted around each other subconsciously tighter, fighting back the need that was getting more prevalent by the minute.

One thing he guessed he could be thankful for was that the waters of this lake were still. Still as in completely frozen. Because, had they been moving and gently crashing against each other... it would be a physical representation of a warmer form of liquid moving in a similar fashion in his bladder. Way too much of one.

That would only torment him so much more.

"But most of the shops are closed..."

How did he know that? Rin had spent the majority of the time since they arrived here quietly peering past the shops. Yes, he was hoping to eat some of the infamous shiyoyaki but he also really was hoping to use one of the toilets around here. While Yukio was searching around for any signs of that red-and-blonde head, Rin was busying himself with spotting any lights in stores open. To his great dismay, almost none of them were on. For the ones that were, it was clear they weren't welcome inside. 

"It's already four p.m. And to add, it's off-season."

If he couldn't use the store bathrooms, he certainly could use public ones. If one thing added to another - there were a distinct lack of those as well. Of course. The one time he desperately, desperately needed to go and he couldn't find a suitable place to go. He couldn't possibly bear the thought of admitting this problem of his to his twin brother. He knew what the answer would be: "We don't have time, just hold it!". Rin could even imagine Yukio saying that in that neutral to the point of emotionless voice of his. Thus, it was kept as a problem to himself.

Yukio had seemed to walk back in the direction they came off. Rin reluctantly uncrossed his legs and followed beside him. He walked lightly on the balls of his feet, a small bouncy nature in between each step. Fortunately a thick amount of snow separated their boots and the actual ground, so his bladder wasn't being jostled around more than the walking already did. He tried to keep his soft whimpers as discreet as someone desperate could, disguising them as chattering breaths.

What he didn't know was that Yukio kept eyeing him from the corner of his teal eyes. It wasn't difficult to piece together the unnecessary noises his older brother was making; one could get a hunch from Rin's constricted posture and unnatural walking. Not to add, he's lived with this half-demon his whole life. He knew what Rin looked like and did when he needed to piss.

It also explained Rin's slipping concentration on the task they were set. At the start he seemed highly enthusiastic about finding Shura - as well as taking the opportunity to 'blow some steam', as he put it. It now seemed relatively obvious he just wanted to 'blow some <b>stream</b>' as soon as possible.

Rin's bladder gave out a startling spasm, halting him mid-step. At once, his hand darted out of his pocket and openly grabbed between his legs. He couldn't be passive anymore. He had to go - now .

"Nngh, Yukio!" His knees bent inwards, rubbing his thighs together. "I gotta pee so, so bad-!" The words were rushed, an involuntary groan escaping from him. His predicament jumped much worse; the contents of his quickly filling bladder now prodded at his muscles, threatening to escape past the barriers.

"I am aware." He turned, staring at his desperate brother with an unamused expression. "You just went at the station!"

"S-so?! I need to go again!" Between then and now, he had grabbed a large hot drink to warm his belly up before they ventured out into the cold. Regrettably, it had filtered through his body much too quickly. The product of that was this situation. It wasn't unusual; Rin had a bad case of overactivity and that led to frequently needing to empty his bladder.

"You and your-ugh. Make it quick, please." Yukio made to adjust his glasses on his nose, perhaps a subtle facepalming. Twisting round on the spot, Rin surveyed the area. He had no plan and he frowned at that. He whipped his head back to Yukio, biting his lips and staring at him with frantic widened eyes. What do I do?!

"Hold it like someone normal would do or find somewhere secluded." Yukio offered, clearly disinterested. 

The former was definitely not an option, so Rin paced around in the snow, searching, searching. After a few moments he stopped, fixated on a nearby tree. With the time limit - both from his brother and his aching muscles - and the lack of options, Rin hobbled himself over to the shaded area.

His fingers worked especially fast, unbuttoning and zipping open his duffle coat in seconds. It lifted a smidge of pressure off his bladder but not nearly enough. His legs kept jiggling on their own accord as he scrambled around to try pulling his trousers down. Warmth jetted out into his underclothes, staining the fabric. Rin gasped, falling right down to his ankles and squirming around. He gripped and kneaded his junk in his best efforts to stop the leak. It was successful but he was too scared to let his hand go.

"Yukio!! Help me!" He squeaked, shaking with all the effort.

Rolling his eyes, Yukio quickly approached Rin and swivelled him round to help undo his clothes. He slipped his fingers behind Rin's hand and pulled the zipper down with mild ease. The older of the two whispered a quick thanks before yanking his trousers and underwear just below his knees. Yukio quickly turned round to give his brother some privacy. Since Rin was far too desperate to stand back up again, he crouched high enough so his member wouldn't touch the snow. 

Just before Rin relaxed though, he felt the urge to be a little creative, so to speak. 

He let loose on his voluntary muscles. The relief hit him quick and he drew out a loud, shivering sigh through parted lips. 

One hand was kept on the stem of the tree and the other slid around his member to give him a better aim. While still low, he began to crouch walk around the spot, guiding his stream along the snow and moving his hips back and forth accordingly. The heat from his previously pent-up pee radiated upwards and warming his exposed nether regions. He just about lasted enough to complete the word he spelt on the ground. In a minute's time, he was up and zipping his coat back on.

A smug smile played on the older Okumura's lips as he looked down to his handiwork. He placed his hands on his hips as he said "I have left my mark." in a proud tone.

"Rin, what-" Yukio grunted, barely catching a glimpse of a very visible 'Rin Okumura' in big, yellow letters on the ground. "...The hell? Why?!" His cheeks were flushed but not for the wrong reasons. Rin was beyond embarrassing when it came to this and it was a wonder how far his shamelessness went. 

"Why the hell not?" Rin grinned, shrugging as he slipped his hands back into his pockets and casually walked away from the scene with Yukio.

"That was completely unnecessary." Yukio pinched the bridge of his nose, mocking an almost face-palm. "What on earth am I going to do with you..?"

That was an important question, but the answer would have to wait until after they complete the task at hand.

Chapter Text

“Mikoshiba, you did great!”

Momo lifted his head up to see Nitori - team captain more importantly, his senpai - beaming down at him. A proud smile tugged across his face. He had his hand outstretched, inviting Momo to place his hand there so he could be lifted from the pool water.

“Haha, thanks!” Momo eagerly accepted the offer, slapping his wet hand into the drier, soft one, and was pulled up with some force. Momo stumbled a little forwards, his footing presumably a little off.

At once, Nitori’s arms shot out, catching the red-head. “Woah, Mikoshiba! Are you okay?” A twinge of concern riddled in his voice, his eyes widening a little.

Momo chuckled heartily. “Ah, I’m fine! I think I must have slipped from all the water or something!” He adjusted in Nitori’s hold, planting two more solid feet onto the pool tiles. “Thanks for catching me!”

Although true, that was not entirely the case.

Momo felt an inordinary sense of heaviness in his lower regions as he was being helped out of the pool. He hadn’t noticed it until now but throughout the course of the swimming session, his bladder must have slowly been filling. If he were to think about it, he did drink quite a bit that day. There was no particular reason aside from the fact it was a little hotter than usual that day. Since then, the drinks he had from the cafeteria must have made their way down his body and collect in that specific region.

It hit him like a ton of bricks and caused him to lose his composure. Thus, the stumbling.

After a reassuring smile and waving off concerns, Nitori finally let him go. Although, it felt nice to have Nitori’s touch on his arms. It felt somewhat comforting. But he wasn’t to think too hard about that feeling right now.

“Everyone! Gather around here for debriefing!” The silver-haired captain ordered, pointing to where he was stood.

The swim club members gathered around the captain in an orderly semi-circle. The debriefing didn’t take long this time, as it was only the start of the season. Momo listened attentively but kept his thighs close together. As usual, Nitori thanked everyone for their efforts and applauded a few members for improving on their timing and techniques. Nitori’s meetings were always nice and positive, yet professional at the same time.

He really was suited to be this year’s captain.

Nitori gave a polite bow, thanking everyone once more before dismissing them all. He turned to Momo and motioned with his head for them to make their way to the changing rooms along with the others. Momo smiled, swinging his arm over Nitori’s shoulder in a friendly manner. The other keened immediately into the touch, laying his head on Momo’s shoulders.

His brain made a note of this gesture. Once again, Momo dismissed it, trying not to think too hardly of something so trivial. It was trivial, much like many of the other things he seemed to notice lately, and he’d convince himself to no end that it was.

“That was a good first session back.” Nitori commented as they walked alongside everyone else.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I think so too!” Momo snapped out of his trance and focused back on the new line of conversation.

“It’s always a good day when we have the swim club.” At hearing a lack of response from the other, Nitori poked Momo’s arm. “I think you might be a bit tired from today.”

“Ah, yeah, that might be it.” He kept zoning out, this was no good! Was he really that desperate? Surely, he didn’t feel like he was.

“You did work yourself really hard today, so no wonder!”

“Hey, I always swim hard!” Momo pouted his lips.

“I know you do but today you put in a lot of effort! I could see that.”

It pleased some part of Momo that his efforts of pushing himself in the last hour didn’t go unnoticed. He felt satisfied that his attempts at impressing the young captain weren’t in vain, despite the large amount of club members.

Nitori lifted his head off so he could hold the door open for the both of them. Momo lingered his arm around Nitori’s shoulder for a moment longer before removing it. At some point they had to separate to shower and get changed.

They rinsed the chlorine off their bodies before quickly dousing their hair with shampoo from the provided shampoo dispenser. They were in and out of the showers by a minute at the most.

Momo moved both his arms to the back of his head, casually crossing them as they strolled to their lockers. They grabbed their clothes and their towels from inside them. Momo glanced at Nitori for a moment before placing his hands on top of Nitori’s towel and rubbing at his damp hair.

Nitori began to laugh before removing his hands and placing it on top of Momo’s towel to do the same. A flurry of playful giggles came from the two, grabbing fistfuls of the cotton and squeezing the water out of their hair strands.

“Okay, okay let’s get changed.” Nitori spoke breathlessly, pulling away from Momo. There was one changing cubicle free so Nitori offered Momo to go in first, as a reward for his good efforts. Momo would have let Nitori go before him but a twinge in his lower abdomen convinced him otherwise. He quickly slipped into the stall and locked it.

Once inside the comfort of secluded privacy, Momo thrusted his bundle of clothes onto the rail before diving a hand in between his legs to suppress the wave. It subsided after a few seconds and Momo was able to start changing.

It probably would have been wise to use the toilet first before getting changed but he was this far already. Plus, he didn’t feel his need was bad enough to rush over. He could hold it for a few minutes.

Apparently not.

He bent forwards and had managed to pull his swimming briefs to his ankles before his bladder suddenly gave the most sharp and alarming spasm he had ever felt.

“AH!” Momo yelped, shooting his back upright and holding that stance. His eyes shot wide open and his legs winded around each other as fast and as tightly as they could.

Oh no!

“What is it, Mikoshiba?!” Nitori knocked on the door, having heard his audible noise.

“Oh, N-nitori, I suddenly-!” He let out another whine, bouncing up and down on the spot to fight back this spontaneous desperation. He rubbed his thighs together, trying to create friction in his member trapped between them, trying to stop the burst of liquid from escaping him. Where did this suddenly come from?!

“Mikoshiba!” Nitori banged his fist, now quite concerned with his friend on the other side.

“Ggh!! No…” Momo guttered, his wails falling completely silent as he felt warmth trickle down his legs. He was wholly unable to stop it and he stilled as it happened.

Nitori was about to knock and ask again when he heard a distinct hissing from beyond the door.

His urine drew along his twisted legs, running down his pale skin in a series of warm rivulets. It collected in his red swimsuit briefs before that got oversaturated and pooled onto the floor.

One quick peek from under the door and the growing puddle under the redhead confirmed to Nitori that that was happening.

Oh no... The team captain stood back and away from the door, playing with his hands in front of him. He waited, but after five minutes of no movement or sound from the other, he began to grow more worried.

Nitori knocked again, softly this time. Yet again, he was met with silence until some shuffling came and the door was unlatched. The door wasn’t opened for him and Nitori understood what that meant. He slipped in the gap, locking the stall behind him. Momo was sat on the small provided bench, a towel held in a ball to cover his privates. His swimsuit was stripped off and left beside the puddle in the middle of the cubicle.

Nitori didn’t ask for an explanation but Momo still mumbled a “It just happened, I have no idea.”. Momo was met with a warm, callous embrace, one hand stroking and ruffling at the red locks. Nitori whispered indistinct words but it was implied they were all full of comfort. They hung like that for a minute before Nitori let go and made to grab Momo’s duffel bag.

“Come on. You’ll need another shower after that. It might make you feel better.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and stepped around the mess on the floor. To their credit, the floor was a dark grey and it looked more like water than anything else.

Momo slowly rose to his feet, properly wrapping the towel around his waist to keep his decency. He quickly swiped his drenched swimsuit off the ground with two fingers. Nitori kept a hand on Momo’s back, guiding him out of the stall and back to the showers which were less crowded now. He was handed some shower gel and took a slower than usual shower.

Nitori waited for him, like the kind, patient and understanding friend he was.

The shower did help, and so did Nitori’s reassuring words.

Chapter Text

She told me to meet her in our form room...

Kosuda hurried down the corridor, conscious of it being a few minutes since the bell had rung to mark the end of the day. He slid open the door to the aforementioned room, taking a look inside. In one of the desks at the corner of the room sat the most popular girl in the first year: Yamada.

Who also happened to be her classmate, weird harasser and who asked him to teach her maths.

Ah! He's here! The hazel-haired girl perked up as soon as she heard the door moving, her face lighting up with a grin. No wait, I should pretend I've been waiting an age for him. To give off the impression of just that, she folded her arms and contorted her smile into slightly annoyed pout.

"There you are!" Yamada piped up, tapping her foot against the floor. Kosuda jolted and quickly turned to the girl across the room. "You shouldn't keep me waiting, you know! I don't have a lot of time on my hands."

In all honesty, she only got there about a minute ago but if she was to keep her image as a popular girl both inside and outside of school, she had to improvise.

"Ah, sorry!" Kosuda stuttered, making his way quickly around the room. "Someone from the photography club called me to check up on the samples." He hung his camera strap on the back of the seat adjacent to where she was and settled down.

She watched him with mild amusement as he fumbled around with his bag, drawing out his textbook, exercise books and stationery. I forgot he was in the photography club. Hmm, well he ought to take pictures of me at some point.

Okay, well I guess that' alright then. Just bear in mind I am busy with dates and things."

Again, that wasn't true at all. As far as she could remember, she hadn't gone out with a boy even once, despite the many requests she offers on a daily basis. Here's hoping Kosuda will be my first date! And my first time, too!

"Yes, right. I understand." Once he brought out his equipment, he tucked in part of his shirt that hung out of his trousers. "How long do you want for this?"

"I'm gonna say an hour." She placed one leg over the other in a casual cross. "That should give us enough time. If it takes longer, I'll allow it but only if it's a good reason."

It shouldn't take longer than an hour, hopefully... although I would like to spend the time with Kosuda.

Her legs were crossed casually but Yamada wished they were crossed much more intently. In all the anticipation - and excitement - for some simple maths tuition, she forgot to use the bathroom before making her way here. It only hit her when she was sat down and waiting for Kosuda that it was more than just a niggling need.

"So, what would you like to start with?"

"Well, I was trying to solve one of the homework problems that Sir set us." She reached over the desk and pulled one of her books closer to her. She took the movement as an opportunity and discreetly shifted her hips on the seat. "It was something about area or volume, I'm not sure what it was asking..."

Half an hour into the session and good progress seemed to be made. As Takeshita pointed out numerous times, Yamada was a little weak in maths and would benefit with some help. She asked him for help, half for the actual help and half to spend some time with Kosuda, but she was getting a lot more out of it than she expected. To add, it was a little fun to learn with him.

"So, am I supposed to be multiplying 4 by Pi and the radius squared for this question?"

"Oh, no this is asking for the volume. You need to use this formula on..." Kosuda flipped through the textbook, keeping one finger under the questions page. “This page. See here?" He drew a circle around the boxed formula. "The formula for the volume of a sphere is: Four multiplied by Pi multiplied by the radius cubed, all over three."

Yamada was already leaning forward but leant forward a little more to take a look. "O-oh, yeah. I see!"

I wonder if we could also work out the volume of this sphere inside me- no, no don't think like that! At that thought, that said 'phere' in her lower abdomen - that is to say, her bladder - pulsated and sent a surge of desperation through her body. It was sudden, shuddering and stronger than the otherwise dull aching it maintained until this point.

"Yamada, are you alright?"

"Huh?!"She realised she had been hunching forward and didn't respond to anything he had said in the last few seconds. Yamada bolted upright, straightening her back." Yeah I'm fine, thanks for asking." She shifted on her seat for the umpteenth time and relaxed her legs but kept one over the other, afraid to uncross them. "What was the question?"

"Oh, I asked if you understood the difference between the area and the volume."

"Uh, yeah! I do! I just need to remember which one's which."

"Yeah, you seemed to have mixed up both formulas in the homework. Don't worry though, you just need to commit it to memory. A good way of remembering it is two 'threes' in this formula." He circled his pen around the threes. “And radius cubed is always for volume. If there is no three below, it's area. Odd numbers for volume, even numbers for area."

She attempted to repeat. "Odd numbers for volume, even numbers for are- ah!"

Yamada wasn't sure what kind of noise escaped her throat but it most definitely sounded like a moan . That wasn't her potty mind speaking. Her hands flew to between her legs and she grinded her middle into the chair forcefully.

This time, Kosuda definitely knew something was up. Her movements almost reminded him of how he was when he badly needed the bathroom in the middle of meditation classes.

Oh, that must be it.

"If you need to go to the bathroom, we can always take a quick break."

"Oh no, I'm fine. It's not that bad." Yamada waved her hand around dismissively. She tried to straighten again but was highly unsuccessful. "Plus, I don't want to waste your time when we could be solving more maths problems, right?" She gave him a quick grin whilst still making small movements.

They dropped the subject after that and continued to pursue through the session without any more delays. It was clear though, that Yamada's bladder didn't seem to drop the subject so easily. The pressure continued to build up below her stomach which led her to constantly adjust her position on the chair. Jiggling a leg under the table, crossing her legs tighter, jiggle them whilst crossed and purposefully pressing hard into the chair were all things Kosuda noted his classmate do. Though, as he now learnt, her stubborn nature prevented her from just excusing herself and going to the bathroom.

He watched in silence and in curiosity as Yamada squirmed relentlessly. He had set her a few questions to re-do to test what she had learnt in the past forty-five minutes but it was evident she was struggling through them for an entire other reason. A relatively hindering problem, he gathered, from her flushed and lip biting state.

His cheeks flushed as much as her ones currently were. They would grow even darker when he began to feel a distinct rising in his clothes and a sudden tightness in his trousers.

Wait, am I getting excited by seeing her like that?!

Thinking quickly, Kosuda tucked the chair further into the desk and clasped his hands on his lap to strategically cover his crotch. He hoped Yamada was too fixated in her need that now seemed more desperate by the minute to notice his arousal. The last time it had happened - when he invited her into his house - she freaked out and abruptly left. For good reason, too. Remembering this, he became fearful of her knowing his problem.

He pretended to be reading through the textbook but in reality was watching her through the corner of his eye. That probably wasn't the wisest of choices, because he felt his heartbeat pick up with anticipation. Some part of him hoped the rest of the unofficial lesson would go on like this, just seeing the girl rock her hips from side to side and jam a hand between her legs so intently, so desperately.

Neither questioned each other's action or silence, both focused on suppressing their problems. Unknowingly, the two of them were silently begging for the other to begin packing so they can escape and deal with their contrasting issues. Both in the bathroom, of course.

Chapter Text

"I still don't understand why we have to help clean up this mess!"

Currently, the four Cram school male students - that is, Rin, Suguro, Konekomaru and Shima - were stationed around their classroom, with cloths, sprays, mops and the like in their hands. Following the demon attack just earlier, they had been given the task of clearing up the substantial mess that was made while Yukio exorcised the demons.

In essence, this was Yukio saying 'You started this, you clean it up.' As well as 'You'll need help because you will never finish the job'.

Suguro shot Rin the most irritated glare he could muster.

"'Cause it's gonna take forever if just Okumura does it." Shima lazily swept at the floor.

"Yeah, look, shut up and keep doing your job!" Rin snapped back to Suguro forcefully dunking the mop back into the bucket to wash the dirt away.

"What were you two even doin' in here?!" Just as forcibly, Suguro chucked the rubble pieces into the wheelbarrow they had been provided with to transport the mess to and fro from the classroom.

"I told you; I knocked over some of Yukio's chemical shit and then some demons sprouted out of nowhere. We exorcised them all so be grateful!"

Of course, that wasn't the entire story. Rin and Yukio had been arguing and that caused Rin to fling the vial off the table in pure irritation. Since Rin had very little experience with his sword, Yukio took in charge and dealt with all the demons without a moment of hesitation with his gun wielding.

"Hah! Grateful for somethin' that was your fault?! You're such a..." Suguro audibly groaned, kicking at the rubble.

Mop still in bucket, Rin gripped the top of the pole. "I'm a what now?"

A smirk danced across the prodigy's face and he made his way closer to Rin. He threw a piece of rubble up and down in his hand. "An asshole."

"Argh, here we go..." Shima sighed, resting the large broom against one of the not upturned desks and folded his arms. Koneko also stopped his job of returning the desk and chair to their original positions, staying vigilant in case it turns violent.

Rin scowled further at the accusation. "What is your deal with me?!" He stepped closer in Suguro's vicinity. "You've acted nothing but a jerk to me since school's started!" 

"My deal with you-" - Suguro shoved Rin lightly, for emphasis - "Is that you're affectin' all our education. It is so fuckin' CLEAR you're not serious about exorcisms."

"Hey don't say things you don't even know are true-"

"You don't know half the shit we're learnin'." Suguro continued despite the interjection. "You do nothin' but sleep and chirpse up your precious Moriyama." Suguro noted Rin's brows furrowing at the mention of Shiemi. He wanted to smirk; he knew Rin's feelings weren't quite reciprocated by the young blonde.

"W-what does Shiemi have to do with this?!"

"What doesn't your little girlie have to do with your lack of interest in Cram school? You just dragged her here yet she's more committed than you ever will be!"

Rin was tired of fighting with words. It wasn't getting anywhere. Rin grabbed fistfuls of Suguro's shirt and knocked him to the classroom wall. "You don't KNOW that! Stop making up crap! I AM serious! I AM commillid or whatever that word is."

Suguro scoffed, his free hand gripping Rin's wrists. "See? You're so thick you can't even say normal words right-"

Rin took the opportunity of Suguro's slip of vigilance and slid his hands round Suguro's throat.

"I AM NOT THICK!"

Shima's eyes widened. "Woah, woah, woah!" At once, Shima and Koneko rushed towards the two and began prying Rin away from Suguro. "There is no need to strangle Bon!"

The two fought the resistance, clearly not done.

Suguro whacked the rubble onto Rin's foot. Rin hopped back, yelping in pain and clutching his throbbing foot. While Rin did so, Suguro properly shoved Rin around, gripping his shirt fiercely.

They fought around the room, yelling obscenities while Shima and Koneko followed them and tried their hardest to pull the two away and defuse the situation. They were too heated to be defused.

Eventually, Suguro managed to gain dominance and had Rin pinned over a desk. He sneered at the half-demon, who had his hands still on Suguro's shirt collar and trying to push him away.

"Suck my dick, you queer ass!" Suguro yelled.

"Oh, piss your pants!"

Everyone fell silent. It was like something switched in Suguro and his scowl lowered. He leaned back a bit, his hands loosening their grip on Rin's clothes. 

"What?"

" 'Piss your pants.' That's a new one." Shima commented behind Suguro.

That reaction almost made Rin regret spewing whatever came off his tongue. Despite this, he pressed on.

"That's right. You'd do it if you weren't chicken. Oh wait, you're a Rooster right? That's roughly the same as a chicken isn't it?"

Shima laughed considerably hard. "Good one!"

"I'm not chicken..." Suguro muttered, a hand leaving Rin to rake through his 'Rooster-esque' hair.

"Then prove it." Rin looked down to see his knee raised just under Suguro's stomach. He prodded it upwards. "Unless you want me to make you do it."

"No, that's not necessary." Still, Suguro considered the dare. "And you'll do the same?"

"Of course. I need to piss anyway."

"Wait, what, seriously, you're gonna-?" Shima's eyes darted between the two. To his dismay, yes, they both were awfully serious about doing that.

Suguro let go of Rin and backed up. They kept staring at each other, fixated with intent.

Rin sat up on the desk. He wanted to grind on the wood a little to ease the recent pressure below his stomach but didn't fight it. He instead spread his legs. Likewise, Suguro stood with legs at shoulder-width, trying to concentrate on voluntarily letting go.

It was hard for either to relax their muscles.

After a few prolonged seconds of pure silence, Rin moved his hands to his belt and unbuckled it. He found it was easier to replicate how he would do it if he was using the bathroom. He began to wriggle his trousers a little below his waist.

"Oi, I thought you said piss in your pants, not outside it."

"Oh, no, I will. I'm just trying to relax. I don't piss myself everyday, y'know." Rin shrugged, dangling his legs.

"And what, you think I do that either?"

"No. Who knows? You might wet the bed at night for all I care. But I don't jump to false accusations unlike someone here..."

They fell back to silence, putting as much pressure as they can on their bladders. Their faces were tight with concentration. Years of toilet training meant it was difficult to lose continence outside of a bathroom, unless one was really desperate and out of options. That wasn't the case here.

"Bon, this is silly-"

Koneko was interrupted by the sound of hissing. Rin managed to start first and he sighed at the emptying of his bladder contents. Suguro's eyes widened and it seemed his body took inspiration because his stream started moments later.

They watched each other soak their pants like a hawk. Rin's stream spread at the gap between his legs to the corners of the desk before dripping down on the floor. A just-as-rapidly-expanding puddle formed under Suguro, a visible part of his stream that escaped his trousers pouring from between his legs. The only sound filling the otherwise silence was the splattering of their pee.

"Holy shoot... That is... piss." Shima's palm pressed at his forehead, completely in disbelief.

From crotch to cuff, the Pages' legs were drenched. Rin finished first despite him needing to go. Perhaps that was to do with his smaller capacity than Suguro. He waited until Suguro finished up, eyes following the liquid spreading on the classroom floor.

Suguro shifted his legs closer together and stepped out of his mess once done. Rin hopped off the desk, some of the urine on it adding itself to the already reasonable puddle.

"You do realise you've just given yourself more to clean. Whatever, I'm out, I had nothing to do with this." Giving up on the situation entirely, the weirded-out Shima walked out of the door.

Suguro folded his arms, waiting for approval. "So? Am I still chicken now?" 

"No, that was... impressively long, Rooster boy."

"Good, cause this better be worth the extra laundry."

"Definitely is." Rin grabbed the mop and squeezed the water out of it. "Since it was my idea, I clean all our... stuff up."

"You have fun with that then." With that, they got back to work. This time, with cold, clammy but rewardingly damp trousers.

Chapter Text

It was still early.

Suguro blinked awake, drawn out of his interrupted sleep. He brought a hand to his face, rubbing at it and brushing a few strands of hair off his face.

Wait, this wasn't his hair...

At that moment, a very distinct, irregular snoring came from right in front of him. Oh, of course. He could have smacked himself for forgetting.

That's right. He wasn't in his room. This was Rin's room.

He backtracked the events of last night. Rin seemed to look off for most of the day, plastering that fake grin to most people. Suguro spent enough time with the guy to tell if he pulled a genuine or fake one. When he wasn't smiling, he seemed so down. Suguro made it a priority to go check up on Rin once cram school classes were over for the day.

That he did. The last thing he remembered was motioning for Rin to lay in the bed with him. They didn't talk. There was no need to, because sometimes words aren't needed to cheer up. Instead, they just lay there, and waited until the other began to feel better.

Suguro surmised he must have fallen asleep between then and now. Which is why he was currently still in half of his school uniform.

It was the other way round this time. It was always him finding Rin in his bed in the morning. He did this a lot: When he couldn't sleep or felt lonely, he'd sneak off from his dorm and slipped into Suguro's bed sometime into the night. He was barely awake when it happened, and he just shuffled to one side so Rin had ample space to lay with him. He'd given up fighting it a while ago and just accepted the request: Can I sleep next to you?, whenever it came.

A quick glance at Rin's alarm clock confirmed how early in the morning it was. 03:46. So, if he fell back asleep now, as in right now, he could get an hour and fourty-four minutes.

That was tempting and all, but now that he was more alert, he registered a second factor. His lower abdomen felt rather heavy, concentrated at the middle.

Because he fell asleep early, he didn't get the opportunity to use the bathroom as he usually would do before bed. The last time he went was after Cram School classes were over. That must have been after six. So since then and now... he's been holding.

Oh well. Suguro reluctantly pushed himself off the bed, the warm covers falling down to rest at his lap. He swung one leg to the side and made a move for the other too.

Resistance.

He didn't need to lift the blanket to know the root of that resistance. Only one thing thin, smooth and furry could curl itself around his ankle and lower leg like that.

His hand slipped under the covers to get a better feel of Rin's tail wrapped around him. It held an awfully tight hold. He couldn't even get one finger under it. That's how tight it was.

Dammit.

The half-demon's tail had a tendency to do this when comfortable enough with someone. Rin couldn't control it; it was like his tail ran on a mind of its own. More often than not, the exwires got to watch Rin fighting a struggle with his extra appendage, grabbing at it when it swished at inappropriate times, when it attacked someone from out of the blue, when it became a good old nuisance. It was entertaining at times, that animatic organ of his.

Right now though, it didn't entertain this particular exwire.

Fuck this. He needed to use the bathroom and it was only going to grow with urgency the more he delayed it. He drew the knee of his free leg up a little and began to lightly jiggle it.

I'll just go back to sleep. There's nothing I can do.

He was ready to lay back down and do just that when he was reminded of what happened the last time he needed to pee and fell back asleep.

It happened a few weeks back yet it stayed fresh as ever in his mind. Through the hard way, he learnt to never fall back asleep once one has the urge to urinate, unless you want to end up in a puddle of it when you next wake. To put it bluntly, he wet the bed the other time. All while Rin was sleeping next to him.

No way in hell was he going to do that again.

It humiliated him to the core and he could never look Rin in the eye the same for the next week or so. Eventually he had to; he tutored Rin on occasion after all. There didn't seem to be any tension between them. It was more Suguro making one rather than one existing in the first place.

Sighing with defeat, he placed his head back on his pillow and made attempts to kick at the leg with Rin's tail around it. They were futile; Rin's subconscious grip was far too vice.

He already knew this. The only way he could get it off is if he woke Rin up and told him to release him personally. There was no way of manually doing it and if there was, he'd already do it and be in the bathroom by now.

He never liked disturbing Rin while sleeping. That is if they weren't running late for something. Rin seemed too at peace in his slumber, eyes shut softly and his long lashes resting right above his his cheek skin. His hair lay in a mop-like mess over his head, locks strewn all across his forehead. His bed hair was impressive. If Suguro hadn't known any better, it looked more like sex hair than bed hair.

I wonder what kind of wild dream he's having... Suguro joked to himself. I don't think Moriyama would ever agree to doing that.

Shifting to face Rin, he tapped the shoulders and gave him a soft nudge.

"Okumura." He spoke right into the canal of his pointed ear, making sure he could hear him.

When no movement came from the other, he shook a little harder. "Oi Okumura, wake up!" He hissed. "Get your tail off me. I need to piss!"

When nothing still came from the sleeping form, Suguro grunted and punched Rin's shoulder.

"Jesus, wake up!" He grabbed Rin's arm forcefully and jostled him. "Okay, you don't need to wake up, you just need to disconnect that tail from me or I'll disconnect it from your back!" He drove his foot into Rin's shin, hoping that would wake him.

Yet again, nothing.

Suguro groaned audibly, letting his hand flop to the edge of the bed. When Rin said he was a heavy sleeper, he didn't think this damn heavy. Almost as heavy as- no, no don't finish that sentence!

"Fine fucker, keep sleepin'! I'll just lay here until you free my ass!" Suguro rolled onto his other side, crossing his arms. It was fine. At the very least, his need wasn't too unbearable. His bladder just felt uncomfortably full, is all.

Five minutes after, he found himself shifting his hips and bunching the blanket between his legs.

He gave it another five minutes before trying again. This time, he had no mercy.

He grabbed his pillow and began hitting it against Rin's face. "Wake. The fuck. Up. I need. The bathroom!" Rin's brows only twitched and he muttered "It's Saturday. Ten more minutes, Yukio..."

"No, I'm not Yukio! Or Mr Okumura or whatever. Unhook your damn tail! That's all I'm askin'."

Suguro gripped the pillow, staring at the little shit. Oh how he hated him right now.

"Come on. What would it take to open your eyes?"

He slid back down, inching towards Rin's face and in particular, his parted lips.

Didn't he say he was bisexual?

After a long pause, he considered it. He knew Rin had some sort of attraction to him. No reason why, there didn't seem to be much attractive about him.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he drew closer and placed his thumb and finger over Rin's chin. He leaned in and softly placed his lips over Rin's.

Rin's lips were dry but definitely kissable. Suguro tried not to think of it too much, pulling away after a moment or two with an audible wet noise.

Rin seemed to stir for a moment and Suguro's eyes widened in anticipation.

"Oh, Shiemi... I wanted this for so long..." Rin murmured, smiling as he puckered his lips.

Suguro's face immediately scrunched up into a scowl and he slapped Rin's cheek.

"I'm Suguro! Your man fuckin' crush!" He elbowed Rin's side. He could almost scream. "Argh, I can't believe I wasted my first kiss on this asshole. For nothin'!"

He stilled as he felt a sudden wave of urgency reside in him. He crossed his legs over in an attempt to dampen it. He let out a quiet groan. Man, did he need to pee.

He ran his hand over his blonde-striped hair, biting his lip. He uncrossed his legs to bounce each knee in turn.

He'd give it another ten minutes before trying again.

An hour and a half had passed since then. He tried possibly everything he could think of. He punched, kicked and slapped every part of Rin's body, tickled him, pinched his skin. He even straddled the half-demon at one point, pressing his full pressure into the chest beneath him.

After half an hour of this - yes, he was that committed - he finally had no choice but to give up and suffer in silence.

He writhed and wriggled around in the bed, his bladder feeling more full by the minute. His hands now found a permanent fixture in between his legs, squeezing and holding his member. It brought only small bits of relief but it was all he was reduced to. It was embarrassing to be doing such a blatant and desperate bed squirm. He was bursting, deeply craving relief he wanted - no, needed.

The pillow they were sharing had now been stuffed in between his legs as a final attempt to hold it in. It wasn't hard enough to help that much, even with all the pressing and grinding he was doing to it. Some part of him felt dirty to be almost humping the damn thing in a sexual manner. Still, he did it anyway, internally praying for forgiveness to whoever was listening.

He felt his bladder pound to no end, gasping as the liquid tried to force itself from his metaphorical dam. He turned to Rin, reluctantly letting one hand leave his crotch and placing it on Rin's shoulder.

"Please, Okumura... Wake up... I have to go so, so badly."

He whimpered through clenched teeth at the most painful spasm he felt in this period. The hand at his crotch slipped into his school trousers and pinched the tip of his member. He quivered with his intense need. It hurt so much to hold back whatever huge amount of urine he was holding.

More light passed through the window now. It was near sunrise now, nearing to the time he'd actually get up. He glanced around the room, trying to distract himself with the contents of the Okumura brothers' room. He fixed his stare at the wooden floor. A rectangular green rug lay on top of it.

Wait, wooden floor?

Wooden floors are easy to wipe clean right?

His mind jolted with a sudden idea. He shuffled over to the edge of the bed and stuck out his free leg as far as he could stretch it. He wiggled his toes until it wormed under the rug. With a sigh of gratitude, he flipped it over to give him more space.

"Oh, thank fuck..." He got to work immediately, unzipping his trousers and freeing his member from his clothes. He whipped it out in front of him, pointed as close to the bed as he could and released.

And what a feeling that was.

Loud hissing filled the once silent room as he emptied his bladder onto the floor. It splattered even louder as it hit down and splashed around. For once, Suguro didn't care about the noise and melted into that sweet, sweet final relief.

His bladder seemed to empty for ages, his stream just going and going. Soft sighs of pleasure escaped his lips uncontrollably all throughout.

He eventually ended and it only just hit him just how much he'd have to mop up when he eyed the alarmingly large puddle he had formed. To think that was all inside him minutes before had him mildly concerned.

Time to sort this out before he wakes. Suguro swung his other leg to the edge and placed his hands on either side of him.

Wait. My leg's free?

Suguro spun round to survey behind him. Rin's tail lay limp on the bed.

Oh no...

Time turned slow as he trailed his gaze to the other occupant, finally awake and sitting upright on the bed.

Rin was staring back at him all the same.

He saw everything...

"Damn. You really had to go." Rin's gaze flitted between the liquid mess and Suguro's frozen form.

Suguro's remained speechless and swore he never felt his face grow so intensely hot with shame as it did right there.

Chapter Text

Warmth.

The first thing the rooster-haired exwire acknowledged was warmth.

It... wasn't body heat that's for sure. At least, not his body heat. Strange thing is, it was situated in a very specific part of his body.

He was struck with the next thought: Wait, I didn't piss myself did I?! With widening eyes, his hand dove under the blanket to check if it did happen. His fingers collided with strands of something soft, knuckles knocking against hardness.

Now that he registered it, something warm and heavy pressed on his abdomen. There was also something heavy in the inside of his abdomen, but that wasn't a priority. The exterior heaviness was, at least for now.

He only needed to lift the covers a little before a rather obnoxious snore filled his ears.

Oh, right. Okumura.

There, his cram school classmate and one of his best friends lay sound asleep, lightly snoring through his parted lips. A layer of slobber dribbled out of Rin's mouth and pooled around his cheek that rested on Suguro's spare pillow. It was unsightly, that was true, but the familiar sight earned a crack of a smile from him.

Suguro rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye with a sigh. In the process, he managed to cast a quick glance at the fluorescent green digits on his alarm clock. 03:28. Two hours and two minutes before the time he usually woke up at. There was still time for more needed sleep. That of which he valued.

With a low but not entirely irritated grumble, he reached underneath the blanket and felt his way to Rin's head. Suguro raked through the jet black mess that was the half-demon's hair, winding the strands around his fingers. In Rin's sleep, he keened into the touch and purring, was it? Rin sighed mid-snore and hugged Suguro's right leg just a little tighter.

At the same time, Suguro wanted to keen into Rin's touch. It was oddly docile of him to clutch at the taller exwire's sleepwear pants, a cycle of gripping followed by relaxing followed by gripping. It was almost in tune with Rin's snoring and Suguro's quiet breathing.

Rin's head was pressing dangerously close to Suguro's bladder, said organ now sitting rather full inside him.

Dammit, why do I need to piss now? He knew it was a crime to move and break off this moment of tranquility. Presented with little choice at this moment, Suguro ended his playing with Rin's locks and sat up. Now with better accessibility, he hooked his hands under Rin's armpits and pulled him closer to the top of the bed. He then lifted the sleeping exwire down, tucking him into a better and more comfortable position. Laying back down, Rin's cheek rested on his left shoulder. The furthermost arm wrapped itself around the half-demon, pulling the two into a sweet embrace. Only Suguro knew this was happening and he'd keep it quiet that he stole this moment without Rin's acknowledgement.

Now in a better position, Suguro pressed his face into Rin's hair. It tickled against his skin and smelt wonderful. He probably shouldn't be having such thoughts for a friend but it was okay as long as it stayed in his head. The lavender scent he was inhaling encouraged his body to relax and fall back asleep.

The familiar beeping of Suguro's alarm clock sounded in the quiet dorm room. For once, Suguro actually struggled with waking from his slumber and shifted in his bed. He did get adamant sleep, as he usually did, but with waking up halfway into the night, the second sleep cycle was cut short, leaving him feeling rather tired though rested.

He stretched an arm out of the cosy blankets, silently yawning. His other side of his body felt numb and when glancing to the other side of the bed, he was reminded that Rin was still occupying his bed.

Between three a.m and now, Rin had stopped cuddling him and now was curled into himself. The cuddling wasn't something he openly welcomed and while he would never vocally accept it, it was still nice. Laying with Rin was something indeed, and he felt comforted by it. Whether it was the fact that Rin's skin was very warm or just the act itself, Suguro enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he should.

It was alright because nobody was going to know about that, right?

Rin's face, from what he could muster through the dim sunlight, seemed totally at peace. It was innocent, soft, and cute. Suguro'd hate to have to move away but he'd beat himself up the whole day if he didn't go for a run just because he didn't want to leave the bed.

Some other time, Okumura.

He raised a knee to attempt to slide Rin off him, when he felt it.

A cold, damp feeling.

First warmth from last night, and now this? Whatever could it be this time? Irritated, Suguro lifted the blanket to reveal... a huge wet spot in between their bodies.

Oh, seriously?!

It seems the kick woke Rin up too, because he too was staring down at the patch, wide-eyed.

"The fuck?" Rin half-sleepily mumbled, rubbing at his eye. The two exwires found themselves glancing back and forth from the bed to each other, dumbfounded.

"Okay, was that me or you?" He asked, slight worry in his eyes that it was him.

They knocked the blanket right off their bodies and frantically scanned their clothes. Suguro's pajama bottoms were definitely soaked through, from crotch all the way down his right leg and halfway through his left thigh. The cold air in the room hit his legs and they felt ever so clammy. The waft of air made him snapped his legs shut.

He crossed his legs, as if in an attempt to cover the noticeable dampness. Suguro looked over to Rin's shorts, which also seemed to have a similar patch on the inner thigh. However - and to his great dismay - his shorts were less saturated. That could only mean one thing.

Dammit.

Confused, Rin slid his hand into his waistband and silently groped his crotch for a few seconds, feeling for the same wetness in his underwear. All he felt was dryness.

"Oh. It's you, man." Rin faced Suguro, shuffling a bit away from the marked sheets.

Of course it was. Of course it had to be.

He'd remembered wriggling a fair bit before he drifted to sleep. His need was a little more than just niggling, and hoping to dear God, whom he wasn't supposed to really believe in, that Rin wouldn't wake up from his fidgeting. He kept it on the low-side but pressure kept building up from lying still. In most normal situations he'd give up resisting and groggily wander into the bathroom but he couldn't bring himself to pry Rin off him, especially when he purposefully readjusted the half-demon so he could cuddle with the other. Instead of relieving as anyone normally would, he willed his bladder to hold in his piss for a few hours longer. It was one of a big capacity anyway, so it should have been okay.

This proved that it actually wasn't okay. He probably was more full than he realised.

"Dude, are you a bed-wetter?"

Suguro's face heated up at the reality of him, a fifteen year old teenager, pissing in the bed and not only on himself but on a friend , too. He didn't even have any bed-wetting issues, at least not beyond an acceptable age in his infant days.

"N-no, I haven't in... Ah, shit." He bounced the 't', swivelling round to sit on the edge of the bed, turning his face right away from Rin.

The blush only continued growing, heat expanding right up to the tip of his ears. He was quietly thankful that it was still moderately dark, so his embarrassment wouldn't be as visible.

Why did he think it was a good idea to fall back asleep after his body sent him clear-as-day signals to relieve himself? After waking up, it usually was the first thing he did, so his body was probably used to that and not used to having to hold for a few extra hours.

He just humiliated himself in front of his crush, and it felt far, far worse than the wetting incidents with Shima and Konekomaru in their younger days.

"Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"No. I... I woke up earlier and found you on my bed. I needed to piss but I didn't wanna disturb you so I fell back asleep. I didn't know I'd end up fuckin'..."

"Well you should've just gone so you wouldn't have- N-no, wait, wrong thing to say. Er..." Rin realised Suguro must feel pretty awful right then, so he did what he did best.

Rin stretched his arms, placing two warm hands on Suguro's cheeks. He guided Suguro's face to face his own square-on. "Look at me, Suguro."

Reluctantly, Suguro glanced up briefly before averting his gaze once again. He just couldn't bring himself.

Rin continued to look in his eyes and pressed on. "Hey, I know it's embarrassing to do that and all but... it's fine. Okay? Don't worry, it's just an accident. It's happened to me numerous times, y'know."

"But not while with someone-"

"Yukio's had his share of me pissing on him." Rin deadpanned, removing his hands from Suguro's face. "When we used to share a bed and things. Both of us, we, uh, had pretty bad bladders, I think. Most mornings we'd wake up to wet sheets and dad would have come and help us change them. Yukio wore protection but I always refused to. They were just uncomfortable and disgusting, anyway." Rin chuckled. "I'd rip them off after getting into bed. But anyway that"s not a problem anymore and it's all dry sheets at night."

It was a marvel that Rin had a complete lack of shame admitting this. It also was a wonder at how amused he was admitting it, too. Still, it got Suguro invested in his little story.

"What about your brother?"

"I don't think he still has that problem either. That, or he's stealthy at washing them behind my back. Which is hard considering I'm almost always in the kitchen." Rin shifted on the bed, picking at the strewn blanket. "And anyway, I think for Yukio, it was more of a nightmare thing than a bad bladder. I on the other hand, well... weak bladder then, weak bladder now."

"Oh... I never knew."

"Of course you didn't. It's not something you tell anyone." Rin suddenly grabbed Suguro's arm. "Hey, hey, promise you won't tell anyone about my problem!" His bit his lip, cheeks lightly flushed.

"I won't." Suguro would keep his word to that. Nothing is more damaging to a guy's pride than something juvenile such as this. "Please don't breathe a word about tonight. Especially not Shima and Konekomaru."

"Not a word." Rin pressed his thumb and index finger together, drawing it along his mouth. "So, now that you've heard my story, you can't possibly be embarrassed because it's just a one-off thing and nobody will know about it."

"Guess so."

Rin laughed. "That settles it then." He nudged Suguro to motion him off the bed. "Now come on. Let's go clean all this up." He gestured to their sodden pants, grinning at Suguro.

Thank you Okumura. Those three words sat heavy on his tongue but all the way through his shower and changing into his uniform, but he found himself unable to say it.

Perhaps later on today, he'll find the strength to thank Rin's kind heart.

Chapter Text

Yuri had waited until the early hours into the morning. Waited for Otabek to finish his shift as the DJ at the local club, waited for Otabek to grab his belongings, hand over the necessary equipment to his colleague for the next shift and leave with Yuri.

It was the Russian man's first experience at the night-club - and just about any night-club for that matter. He'd just turned eighteen and now had the opportunity to do so. Though, it wasn't one he'd particularly wanted to wait for in his growing teen years. It was only because he learned of Otabek's second interest after skating. He got curious and decided to tag along with his boyfriend to his shift.

He couldn't do a lot of talking over just how loud the place was, so he hung around and watched everyone. Otabek had encouraged him, with a small smirk played on his face, to hit it up on the dance floor. At first, Yuri blatantly refused to do such a thing, but boredom got the better of him and he slipped in the crowd, swaying to the music.

It was a different experience. Highly different to how it was portrayed in the media and such. It would have been a lot more fun if Otabek danced with him. Perhaps another time, when he's off work.

In all seriousness, Yuri had wanted Otabek to finish up as soon as he could. He was enjoying his time there, relatively, but as the time passed he found himself having to deal with a rather nagging problem right beneath his stomach.

Yuri was desperate to use the bathroom.

To pass the time, he grabbed a few drinks recommended by his boyfriend. He made a few trips to the bar, sitting and consuming the drinks while he watched the other people in the room. One detail he hadn't remembered is the effects they had on his bladder. It was a little silly to forget; he'd heard countless stories about that subject and knew he didn't want to get into that sort of situation. Yet, as he made his way to the club's bathroom, the shocking display of intimate contact between couples and even open sex made Yuri fluster, swivel on his heel and walk right out.

So, for the rest of it, Yuri made to sit on a stool, shift, shuffle and grind on it every now and then and give periodic glances to Otabek.

Yuri hopped off the stool as soon as Otabek was ready. It was good timing too, because he really didn't know how much longer he could last just sitting there and trying not to squirm too much. His feet hit the floor rather hard and sloshed the contents of his full bladder more than he'd like. He bent his body at the waist until the movement somewhat subsided before continuing his way to the entrance.

Otabek's arm wrapped around the younger man's shoulder once they stepped outside.

"How did you find it?" Otabek began, running his other hand along his hair.

"It was... interesting, I guess." Yuri shrugged. "It's way more overhyped than how it actually is."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you." It was about the third time this evening he stated that and for good reason too. He knew how lonesome it is to not have anyone with you at such a social like this and he could see that Yuri was bored.

"No, no, Beka, it's okay! Really." Yuri reassured his older boyfriend, nudging him slightly. The action caused his bladder to wobble and Yuri sucked in a small breath. It didn't go unnoticed by Otabek but he didn't speak up. "I had a good time."

"Then why were you looking at me so much?"

He noticed the frequent glances his blonde lover had shot him from across the room. They were too far and the room was too dark to make out any sort of facial communication. He seemed in need of something so he tried over text, but Yuri hadn't said anything of problem.

"I wanted you to hurry up and finish. It's probably selfish of me but-" His body interrupted him by sending a prominent wave of desperation washing within him. He shuddered in place, his thighs closing together on their own accord. "Ah, I-I really needed to use the toilet... but the ones over there were filled with people having intercourse."

Otabek's eyes filled with understanding. It was a little repulsive to watch but alcohol did have a profound effect on people's exhibitionism. "Oh, Yura... I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay, I didn't tell you. Maybe I should have but I just didn't." At the end of his sentence, he felt another swell of urgency kick. This time, he stopped in his tracks and slipped his hand into his pocket in a knowing manner. "Nngh, Beka, I-I need to go so bad!!"

Otabek's thumb began stroking Yuri's shoulder. "Can you hold it until we get home?"

Yuri shook his head and buried his head into the crook of the other's neck. Soft, blonde hair strands brushed against Otabek's face. "I can't... I'm gonna-!"

"Shh, shh, Yura. Don't panic." Otabek placed both hands on the shorter man's shoulders, rubbing circles on the clothes with his thumbs. "Let's find somewhere, okay?"

Yuri nodded against him. With that, Otabek took Yuri's paler hand in his larger one and silently guided him along the street. He told Yuri to focus on holding it while he found a suitable place. Yuri buried his hands deep into his jacket pocket, fingers fully wrapped around his junk and gripping it with all he could.

To their dismay, many of the shops were closed at this late time. Otabek didn't comment but with the amount of moment's pausing before continuing to walk, Yuri could tell this was getting futile. He tried his best to hold it in as much as he could and not be silently begging Otabek to hurry.

Otabek felt some resistance against his hand. Yuri had stopped again, hunching forward a little and crossing one leg in front of the other. At the same time they stopped, a rather hidden alleyway was right besides them.

With a lack of shops around and out of options, Otabek considered it.

"Yura, I know how much you hate urinating outside but... It's dark and hidden in that alleyway just there."

Yuri lifted his head up to observe the option. It was dark, hardly anyone was around and he was so, so desperate to pee.

Yuri hobbled himself over and positioned himself in front of one of the brick walls. Otabek stood behind him and began to help him unclasp, unbutton and unzip his skinny jeans.

Their hands moved exceedingly fast, both highly aware of just how severe his desperation became. The front of Yuri's jeans was wet from several leaks beforehand. He had to keep one hand there in fear of anymore escaping the barriers.

He quietly noted that his hand just about managed to mask the fist-sized damp patch.

The other hand swooped beneath his waistband and ripped himself free from the constraints of his underwear. With a groan, he jerked his hips forward and pointed his tip to somewhere on the wall.

Yuri could not contain a groan out of relief when the feeling of voiding hit him soon enough. His stream, heavy with force, hissed out of his body with immense speed. Otabek noticed the stream wavering with the intensity of the relieving and so supported Yuri's aiming hand.

Yuri was about mid-way when the pair heard drunk, unfamiliar voices from outside the alleyway.

"Oh, someone's pissin' down there!"

Yuri's stream cut off at once.

"Leave them be, they're probably had too much to drink!"

"Oh yeah, like you're one to talk!"

"Shaddup, so have you!"

The two obnoxiously loud teenager's voices quieten as they walked down the street.

Yuri's eyes had widen and practically his whole body was tense. Even Otabek could feel his tension. Unfortunately, that meant his sphincter muscles were also tense.

It was then that he learnt; stopping in the middle of peeing was a very undesirable action.

It hurt . He thought the pain of kicking your legs higher than they can physically go was bad. He thought the pain of doing the splits all the way against your flexibility was bad. No, this was at least double that pain. This was bad .

After staying still for a few moments, Otabek broke the silence. "It's okay, they're gone now. You can go."

Otabek tried to soothe his boyfriend who was trembling immensely. He visibly shook from the sheer effort of holding back the liquid that begged to fully drain out of his system but unable to do so by his clenched muscles.

"I-I can't!" Try as he might, he just could not relax himself even though that's all he and his bladder wanted to do. Tears pricked at his eyes, the pain becoming overwhelming for the young Russian man.

Yuri was requested to lean his weight into the man behind him and so he did, resting his head into the crook of Otabek's neck. One hand remained at Yuri's stomach, rubbing small and gentle circles along the slightly taut skin above his bladder.

"Relax." Otabek repeated over and over, trying his best not to prod his fingers into Yuri's bladder too much, trying not to get worked up when Yuri seemed to do anything but that. It didn't help that the sharp whimpers through the quivering lips of his were only increasing in pain and intensity. Otabek pulled the smaller body closer to his, widening his stance to take more of Yuri's weight against his body. There would eventually be a point where his straining body could no longer hold on and would succumb to the unbearable need to letting go, but patience was needed.

It took some working up to - and even Otabek taking Yuri's junk into his free hand and aiming it for him - but somehow, his muscles relaxed enough to let go of the remaining contents. Yuri almost gasped once they did so, exhaling hot breath that tickled the skin of his boyfriend.

The only sounds now were the distinct splattering of pee onto the concrete ground and Otabek's whispers of encouragement that were barely audible. Yuri slid his eyes shut, trying to block out the sound and concentrate on the feel of Otabek's burly body on his back and that low, comforting voice of his.

Yuri felt his body grow weak from the ordeal, the energy in his legs seemingly drained. Even after he had finished peeing, he had to allow himself a few minutes to muster the energy that had gotten spent and bring his breathing to normal.

Once he gained some more strength in his body, he nuzzled Otabek's neck and mumbled a "Thank you." before standing on his own two feet and concealing himself into his underwear and zipping up his trousers.

Otabek's large thumbs stroked in circular motions on Yuri's hips.

"Anything for you."

Chapter Text

“The enemies have set up base in Hyrule Castle! If we are to succeed, we need to take back what’s rightfully ours!”

Impa, at the front of the army, gave a rundown of where the enemies were located on Hyrule field and what keeps were theirs. Collectively, they had decided to set up their Allied Base in a small keep in the North-Eastern region of the field, the polar opposite to the Enemy base in Hyrule Castle, just South-west to where they currently were.

Once all the soldiers and warriors had assembled to their meeting point, they were sent out to charge at Impa’s word. Sheik remarked, quietly to herself, that Impa had an remarkable way of leading. Granted she was a Hyrulean Army Captain, her weaponry and leadership skills were impeccable.

On this particular day, Sheik really did hope that Impa’s plan was impeccable too and they’d complete the battle soon enough.

They hadn’t had much time to rest after the trials in the three timelines when the warriors had been notified of a third army - other than their own and the enemies - setting up. They had spent the past few hours spying on the forces led by a Gerudo man named Ganondorf, finding out how large their army was and any warriors of his they had to look out in particular and devising a plan to fight them. They had to work fast as the forces advanced closer and closer and because of that, they had been up since the crack of dawn in preparation for this.

In that time, unfortunately for Sheik, all the water in the contents of their large breakfast and drinks to keep hydrated had filtered its way down her system. It had only became aware to her whilst walking to the battlefields. Though her suit was tight against her skin, her rather full bladder still had space to wobble and jostle while she walked with the others on the uneven, grassy ground. There was simply no way she could excuse herself to relieve now. Not when Ganondorf and his forces had been successful in their mission thus far by snatching the Triforce of Power right off Lana and were most likely after Link and Zelda’s Triforce shards too.

It had been bearable at the start of the battle. Sheik ran especially fast, swift on her feet that added all the more so her mysterious, ninja-like front. The constant moving around helped her, oddly enough. It was only when she paused to lift open a treasure chest in West Field Keep when her desperation heightened all that much more.

“Ah!” Sheik gasped, hunching forward and placing a hand at her stomach. The crouching down to pick up the hidden weapon was making things bad, putting undesired pressure on her bladder. She bounced and wriggled around on the spot, slipping the heel of her foot between her legs and digging it into her crotch. A few moments was taken into consuming the temporary relief before she stood to her feet and stuffed the weapon into her hip pouch.

“A summoner has appeared in West Rockface Keep! Sheik, you must go after it and defeat it so the soldiers can advance!”

Sheik jolted at the sound of Lana’s voice making an appearance not too far away from her. She spun around, meeting the eyes of Lana standing at the left entrance of the keep, hand on the wall as Lana caught her breath. The blue-haired girl didn’t seem fazed, which must have indicated to Sheik that she didn’t notice her conspicuous potty dancing moments ago.

“Oh, r-right!” With a beat of reluctance, Sheik ran past Lana and flashed her a quick smile before making her way to the next destination. However, Lana didn’t miss the strain woven in Sheik’s voice and eyes. Unable to ask her, she assumed it to be from an inflicted injury or perhaps from the relentless fighting all the warriors had to keep up at.

Of course, it was for an entire reason completely.

The accumulated contents in Sheik’s bladder sat heavy, growing with need, or rather begging at this point, to be released from its constraints. Her suit that sat tight on her body pressed into her crotch and provided another barrier aside from her weakening sphincter muscles, but she knew they wouldn’t hold back the flood for long. That much was already indicated by small droplets threatening themselves to escape into her underclothes.

The summoner wasn’t difficult to defeat. Big Poes were known for their slow attacks but granted that Sheik’s attacks were slowing because of her overwhelming desperation, it was taking much longer than usual. All she needed to do was relieve herself and she’d be in a better position to fight. Her energy and strength was being juggled between attacking the enemies and holding in her urine. The latter was becoming more urgent as time passed, distracting her from the combat at hand.

Idly, Sheik had managed to clear the keep, only a handful of Hyrulean soldiers filling the space. Deeming it safe enough, she headed out of the entrance and ran around the outskirts of the battlefield.

What can I do… As she wandered around, Sheik made it a second priority, other than helping her fellow comrades open the Enemy base, to find a solution to her urgent need. For a start, there were an ample amount of trees and bushes scattered around the region. While those were reasonable suitable places for her to relieve herself in, never once in her life had she succumbed to using such a facility.

As the blonde warrior stared at a particularly secluded area, it felt easily tempting give in and go. Yet, she realised, she’d be there a while due to the multiple layers of her clothes. Leaving her body exposed for, say five minutes, would easily be dangerous. Any monster could sneak up on her, let alone catch her in the act, and ambush her. That, surely, would be highly embarrassing. Not for herself but also if Link, Impa or Lana found out why she had to flee the field.

A weak whack of a spiked bat brought Sheik out of it. She must have fell into her trance for longer than necessary because a rather large group of Bokoblins and two moblins were surrounding her, inching more and more forward. Sheik swung her arm round, sending a group of bokoblins backwards before thrusting her other arm upwards. A whirlwind of water produced from her fingers and the waters travelled away from her. The waves were gentle yet slapped harshly against the monsters, hitting them square on.

The waves of desperation inside her bladder thrashed just the same. No, don’t think about it! The water was tempting - much too tempting -  her body to let go of the water contained in her and she had to completely halt and cross her leg on the spot. Despite this, a spurt of warm liquid slithered past her muscles and ran down the inner side of her thigh.

No! Sheik gritted down on her teeth, darting her hands to her groin and pressing her fingers right at the source of the spurt. At that point, her composure dissipated, the only concern to her was to not wet herself right there and then.

“The enemy base is open!” Impa’s voice could faintly be heard in the distance. Sheik spun her head round to see a influx of soldiers pouring into the gates, charging at the bokoblins.

Wait…

Hyrule Castle is open…

That’s right! Hyrule Castle! That was her home after all. She was the Princess of Hyrule, only disguised at the moment. She knew where the nearest lavatory was after entering through the front gates. She could get there in a minute flat and finally, finally relieve herself.

Setting herself with new determination, Sheik set off on her heel, this time keeping a hand close on her inner thigh to prevent any further leaks escaping her without permission.

She could not possibly care for her three friends crying out to her in concern as she sped past them. Sheik clumsily announced “I’m fleeing!” as an excuse to, well, excuse herself. She kept pressing forwards, a blur of red and grey on either side of her.

Soon enough, Sheik had managed to arrive into the closest bathroom she knew of. Luckily, the castle was relatively empty seeing as majority of the soldiers were out fighting, so nobody was around to catch the Princess with her hands between her legs in an undisciplined manner. Not that anyone knew she actually was their Princess.

She slammed the door hard and ripped down the cloth bound at her mouth. Her forehead was sticky with sweat and so was the strands of blonde hair covering her left eye. Her hands were far too fumbly to function properly but she forced them to work on pulling down her suit. The sight of the toilet right in front of her proved to be too overwhelming of the relief she craved and involuntarily, she felt herself begin to void slowly into her clothes. With a gasp, one hand grabbed at her crotch to stop the flow. Tears pricked at her eyes when it just wouldn’t stop. Her suit had only been slipped down to her waist when her muscles completely gave way.

Her urine gushed out of her uncontrollably, streaming right the way down both her legs. The relief hit her and she broke out into a loud sob. Her knees buckled from the immense shaking of her thighs, forcing her to fall down and sit on her ankles and wet herself centimeters from the toilet. Uncomfortable warmth pooled on her backside and lower half of her body.

The stream had died to dribbles after a while, though Sheik stayed right where she was. Her entire legs, the linen bandage wrapped at her knees and her boots were soaked thoroughly. A small puddle surrounding her only serving a purpose to make her feel more ashamed and pathetic. Who’d think the Princess of Hyrule was unable to control her bladder in dire situations?

At the very least, she was locked in and disguised so there was a small chance that this would spill out. Still, that didn’t comfort her in the slightest. Her cheeks dampened further with tears that streaked down her skin, though not nearly as damp as her lower regions were. She continued to sob on the floor for another five minutes until she became breathless.

Gradually, she ran out of tears to spend and she picked herself up. With a sniff, she unzipped her boots and slipped them off along with stripping herself of her suit.

Maybe a bath was necessary to remove the evidence and make her feel better.

Chapter Text

So far, the day had been normal. The two had attended school all the same, Randall had proven his excellence in Archaeology for the umpteenth time in class while Hershel sat and proved his less excellence. At the very least, there was no essay due in anytime soon as they had just written an assignment due in earlier that week.

After school was another fencing session. It was as invigorating and pushing as ever, working up a sweat and being nimble on their feet as both were determined to win. Unfortunately for Hershel, Randall had won this time and as always, when a loser loses, they had to agree to whatever the winner proposed. So long as it wasn't harmful or hugely inappropriate, of course.

This was something they had agreed on since they joined the fencing club of two. Randall had not yet made his decision on what he should make Hershel do but the afro-haired teenager suspected he'd had to wait until he got to the other's house to find out.

What wasn't normal was what Randall had did when Hershel got up from the floor and quietly excused himself to the bathroom. 

Before Hershel had reached the door, Randall had gotten two steps ahead and shut the door. With a cheeky smile twitching at Randall's lips, he announced he was going to leave the room instead, and ordered Hershel to stay where he was until he returned.

Hershel, with a sigh, did as he was told. As usual, he couldn't tell what Randall had riding up his sleeve and so sat back down.

Some part of him knew he should have just ignored Randall and gotten back up again. Sitting back down made it apparent to the olive-skinned teen of the distinct heaviness laying in his gut.

He had waited some time before deciding he ought to visit the bathroom. This is what normally happened when he was busy and needed to use the bathroom, even at his own house. While he knew it was better to go at the first urges, he preferred to delay it for a while. There was no specific reason aside from politeness, perhaps. It mirrored Randall's immediate jumping and dealing with his need first off.

Randall was back in short time, a few water bottles and a towel in his hands.

Whatever is he up to? Hershel raised an eyebrow at the items bundled in his arms. Certainly, it was different to all the other ordeals Randall got him to do.

"This is different." Hershel commented as he watched Randall lay the large towel on the wooden floor, folding it in half. He then hand a bottle to Hershel who accepted it, staring down into the clear contents.

"If this has to do with exercising, you know I will do terrible at it."

Randall shook one of the other bottles, earning a discreet wince from the other at the noise of the cold liquid sloshing around. He pointed the tip to the bottle in Hershel's hand. "Drink that up."

"All of it?"

"All of it, Hersh."

Casting the other a suspicious glance, he unscrewed the cap and took a small, hesitant gulp.

"No, no, that's pathetic. You have to drink more than that!"

"Sure." Hershel took a larger helping of the water, one third of the bottle empty.

"And then?" Hershel spoke once he swallowed his gulp.

Randall crawled to the door and lifted his arms high enough to lock it without getting up. He pulled the key out of the knob. "You keep drinking these, all of these, and fill you up."

Hershel's eyes grew with alarm once the door was locked. They were most likely going to be engrossed in whatever activity Randall had set out for a while, so before they began, Hershel wanted to take care of his minor predicament.

"Ah, wait a moment, Randall. I need to use the bathroom for a minute."

"I know." Randall hummed, a coy smile settled on his face.

Was it that obvious? Perhaps Randall knew him better than he thought. "Then..." Hershel nervously smiled, leaning forward a little. "Would you mind unlocking the door, please? I won't be too long."

"Hmm..." Randall adjusted the ascot on his neck. "I think not." He pressed his back to the door in an attempt at blocking.

"Oh, alright." Hershel huffed, idly fiddling with the bottle in his hands. Yet again, an insignificant part of him regretted doing so, because the noises of the water shaking around in the plastic were playful reminders of the source of his predicament. "Let's get on with what you've set me to do." After all, he was still technically a guest to the house and it would only be a matter of time until Randall would have to let Hershel out. This wouldn't take that long.

Right?

As Hershel found out, it was taking far longer than he'd like.

At the start, there was very little correlation between the items he had brought in - the bottles and towel that is - and what the two of them were doing in his room. Randall first proposed they settle down and get on with the homework set from classes that day. The pair sat at the desk, pulled out various textbooks, exercise books, papers and stationery and got on with it. Finishing the work set by their teachers took some time, as Hershel liked to spend a reasonable period of time working through the questions and reading over the content. If he was less skilled in Archaeology, he most certainly can excel in other areas.

As ordered, he still took sips and gulps of the water provided. He could feel the cold liquid run down his gullet and add itself to his bladder quicker than it should. Throughout this time, the question still lingered in his mind. Randall still was offering no hints as to what he had exactly planned. Though it agitated Hershel on a minor scale, he knew by now that Randall was quite full of surprises. To add, it was simply better to wait for him to announce whatever eccentric idea he had up his sleeve.

Usually it was in the field of archaeology, but the kind of fun Randall wanted to get involved with was most definitely not archaeology.

It soon hit him that all of these water bottles was to fill his bladder and get him desperate to pee.

Hershel grew with desperation by the hour, unable to focus on anything else but his growing predicament. Once his bladder became more comfortable, that's when he began to show the signs. To him, he still felt he was being subtle. That is, if one would disregard the small shifting in the desk seat and occasional hip rocking. Though he was looking down, he could practically feel Randall's gaze on him, which is why he tried his utmost to keep it casual.

The pacing around the room soon followed. It wasn't particularly fast pacing, like the kind one did out of impatience. It was a steady pace around the perimeter. Randall noted with amusement the abnormality in the way Hershel stood on his legs. There was a small bouncy nature with each step that he took, glancing around the place to distract his mind with. He'd pause a few times, keeping his feet close together and swaying his waist from side to side. Randall kept silent through this, observing him with a smirk so wide it was obnoxious. Hershel, too absorbed in holding it in, paid little attention to his friend marvelling at him.

Hershel would periodically return to his seat with a small huff, face flushed from the effort. Even his sitting was irregular; he fidgeted continuously. Every few moments he would change his position from sitting with his feet flat on the floor, to bouncing either knee of his, to snapping one leg over the other and bouncing the knee below. Between changeover, he'd take the opportunity to grind his crotch into the seat below, bringing craved but only minimal relief.

His situation migrated to serious urgency by the evening, which was around the time Randall sat down on the towel cross-legged and beckoned Hershel over. He lifted himself down from the chair with agonising slowness, hand resting over his stomach in a knowing fashion. He crawled just as slow, stopping to press his thighs together when the bladder jostling got too much. To help, Randall placed his hands on the sides of Hershel's legs and pulled him into his lap.

That was their current position. Hershel was sat firmly on Randall's lap. Though, nothing was comfortable with how Hershel was sitting and at this point he could nothing but discomfort.

His bladder weighed overwhelmingly heavy between his hips, laying stretched, dense and incredibly full. The sensation was by no means an unfamiliar one, however he could solemnly swear that he'd never needed to relieve himself so badly in his entire life. That was all he could think about.

Reduced to this - pathetically on top of his best friend - all he could do now was hold. For how long? He didn't have the mental capacity to think about duration.

He was mildly aware of the swelling that his overly full bladder had produced below his stomach. Randall certainly knew, and made it a point to stroke his fingers along the bulging skin, feeling the dull spasms beneath. He never prodded, just lightly running the tips of his fingers sideways, upwards and downwards. It almost mirrored the movements Hershel's body was making. He bounced up and down on top of Randall, intermittently grinding right down on Randall's thigh to help him hold it indefinitely. All the while, Randall's hands were placed on his waist, steadying his desperate, desperate friend. Every trick in the book was being used and spent, eventually succumbing to fully using both his hands, grabbing and squeezing at his member concealed within his khaki jeans.

Hershel was also aware that his underwear and trousers were getting wetter and wetter the longer they sat here. With the waves of desperation transgressing to a permanent, strong bladder ache, there was little warning before the leaks would escape past his restraints.

Perhaps there was a reason for the towel, after all.

The hold on his floodgates were faltering, despite their intended job. He was losing control on the small spurts of urine seeping into his underwear and soon, there would be much more than spurts to control.

He had to speak up.

"R-Randall..." A squeaky whine seared from his mouth, his lip that was caught under his teeth quivering. "I can't hold on for much longer."

"It's okay, Hershel." Randall grazed his nose along Hershel's cheek. He softly locked his lips with the other and pulled away after a few moments.

On any other day, Hershel would have commented on the down right unfaithfulness of that kiss, considering Randall was already in a relationship with Angela. Right now, he didn't even have the strength to think about that.

"P-please let me go..." Hershel tensed his muscles right as he felt the final warning in the form of another leak further dampening his trousers and Randall's thigh.

"I told you, the key's in the back pocket. You can take it out and the bathroom's all yours." Randall murmured, pulling one of Hershel's hand as encouragement. Up till now, Hershel hadn't been so tempted to damn every inch of propriety and stuff his hand into the back pocket of the blue jeans and pull out the damn key.

He wrung his hand from Randall's grasp and darted it right back to permanently plant it between his legs.That pocket was unfortunately right around the location of Randall's butt and he'd never live himself down for harassing his best friend. Even considering it brought a darker blush to his face, more than how flushed his face was. He simply couldn't do it.

In the end, he chose to suffer the only other option at this point. Not without a fight, though.

He writhed and writhed, the metal of his unlatched belt jingling between their bodies and filling the silence along with the ruffling of damp fabric. His muscles were beyond aching, too tired to keep holding. The only thing that was preventing him having an accident was solely his willpower.

However, the second his willpower wavered - even for a moment - that was when he began to lose control.

A painfully slow, steady stream flowed out of his urethra and drenched his underwear. Try all his might, he just couldn't stop the flow. He stopped bouncing, thighs shaking from the whole ordeal. Seeing Hershel freeze caught Randall by surprise, moments before he began to feel warm wetness seeping into his legs.

Hershel's urine gushed out of him with a loud hiss. To Hershel, it sounded almost deafening in amongst the quiet of the rest of the house.As the stream became one of full force, it burned the tip of his member from intensity. The feeling of relieving his bladder only came ten or so seconds into his voiding, to which he gasped.

Highly suggestive, shaky sighs of relief came from Hershel's agape mouth. Alongside this, he could feel his pee pooling in his underwear and backside before it grew saturated and started to soak the underside of his trousers. The fabric on Randall's thighs also got increasingly soaked and so did the towel beneath, warmth coating their legs over and over for the entirety of his voiding.

Hershel had fallen limp in Randall's arms, head lulled against the crook of his neck as he waited for his bladder to complete emptying. Once his stream was reduced to dribbles, Randall could feel a shuddery final breath against his skin.

Randall stayed absolutely still, allowing Hershel a minute to gain his composure. Hershel's form began to tremble and that was when he heard muffled sobbing from the other.

"Hersh?"

The teen in question abruptly jerked back from Randall, turning his head sideways and tilting it so his afro hair covered both his face and his view of Randall. Tears freely spilled from his eyes, running down the course of his jaw and dripping into his already wet enough legs. His sobbing became harder as his brain caught up with what he had just done. Shame was all that burned in the corners of his shut eyes.

Wait! This is all wrong! Randall hadn't anticipated that Hershel was going to become upset because of this. When he did a hold on his own, the act of finally releasing felt more euphoric more than anything. Seeing Hershel's absolute dejected state along with those godforsaken tears falling, all Randall could feel was pure, utter guilt.

His wrapped his arms around Hershel, whether or not he wanted the touch, and held him tight.

"I'm sorry, Hersh."