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  1. It was a Tuesday night following a Smackdown taping, and Sheamus was out with Roman Reigns, celebrating and getting drinks from fans. They couldn't drink everything they were bought, but they were both drunk. They had decided to stop at a small, out-of-the-way place far from the arena, so they weren't inundated with fans, and the few who were around were pleasant. They took few pics once they'd had their photo ops. If they called anyone who cared to show up for a peek, the bar would probably be closed by the time they arrived. Sheamus had to go potty, but so far Roman wouldn't let him. He claimed it was better to wait, because once a guy went, the seal was broken. He tried to take a sip off the glass of beer that had been set before him, but it went straight to his bladder. He tugged at Roman's coat sleeve. “I can't stand it anymore, I need to go potty now,” he whispered urgently. Roman looked over at Sheamus squirming as discretely as he could, and felt his own close-to-bursting bladder twinge. He kept a straight face though, and nodded. “Yes, let's go to the restroom.” They excused themselves from their fans. Sheamus followed Roman to the men's room. Roman looked stoic and cool, but Sheamus picked up something tight in his walk, and slightly hunched in his posture. Big brother had to go potty, too. Roman only lost his cool briefly, when he tried the door handle and found it locked. He winced, and knocked sharply on the door. Sheamus had already lost his cool, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot in an embarrassing potty dance. “I'm going to wee myself!” He told big brother Roman. In sheer seconds, he would. Roman tried the door handle on the ladies' room, and it opened. He hurried inside, already undoing his black cargo pants. Sheamus rushed in behind him, raking down his jeans, but Roman had already claimed the toilet. Sheamus whimpered, and big brother moved over to make room for him to wee, too. “I'm sorry, lil bro,” Roman apologized. “I couldn't wait one more second.” “Neither could I,” Sheamus said. “Better make this one count. No more stopping until we get to the hotel.” Sheamus realized he'd leaked a little in his pale blue jeans on the way to the toilet. Since he wasn't wearing anything underneath, the wet spot was very obvious. He blushed and turned away from the big guy, who was amazingly still weeing. There weren't any paper towels in the restroom, only a roller towel, hung high. Even if it hadn't been hung high, he wouldn't have tried to dry his jeans on it. He took a handful of toilet paper instead and tried to lessen the damage. But, alas, it was hopeless. Big brother finally finished weeing, and noticed little brother's little accident. He gave Sheamus a quick snug. “It's okay, bro, you can wear my coat.” Roman took of his leather coat, and Sheamus shed his Adidas hoodie. They traded, and the leather was long enough to hide the accident. Sheamus hugged him. “Thanks, bro.” Roman squeezed him back. “Let's get out of here.” They left the restroom, then the bar. Out in the parking lot, Roman grabbed Sheamus's bag from the trunk of their rental car and handed it to him. It was his big traveling bag, not the small gym bag he'd grabbed before the show, and in which he'd forgotten to pack pants. Sheamus unzipped the big bag and dug up a pair of bright green briefs with black waistband and y-front details. Roman smiled, they were sexy on his guy. “You're not going to go potty in those, right?” Sheamus gave him a sassy grin. “I'll try not to.” “Good boy.” Roman rubbed Sheamus's head, tousling his mohawk out of place. Sheamus pulled out a pair of purposely faded and destroyed black jeans, and Roman put the bag back in the trunk. While he drove, Sheamus changed in the passenger seat. He put the wet jeans in his gym bag with his wrestling necessities. Happy and dry, among other things, he leaned against big brother and snugged him. “How far to our hotel?” He asked. “I haven't booked at any,” Roman admitted. “I wanted to knock out some of the driving to Virginia when no one's on the road.” “Good idea, bro.” Then, remembering all they'd had to drink, Sheamus had to ask: “Are you sure you're good to do so?” “I think so... Hand me a bottle of water.” Sheamus did. “Want an energy drink? Sober you up.” “No thanks. If I keep driving long, I might want to stop for coffee, though. My stomach couldn't handle it now.” Roman put a hand to his belly, which wasn't feeling it's best. He wished he'd thrown up before getting behind the wheel. “You okay, big guy?” “Yeah,” Roman lied. “Can you get me another water?” Sheamus did, and hoped Roman would need to stop for a potty break soon. He himself already needed to go, rather badly, He'd broken the seal once again. “Ah...bro?” He ventured, nervously. “Already?” Roman asked, knowing what Sheamus wanted. Sheamus nodded, and wiggled. “Well, you'd better hold it until we get to a rest area or truck stop, Shay. I've been drinking, and if we run afoul of the law, I'll get busted.” Sheamus undid his jeans and adjusted the waistband of his little green and black pants. He adjusted his posture and tried not to think about weeing. He leaned forward to look at the GPS, but the pressure on his bladder made the task impossible. “How far are we from either?” Roman fiddled with the device. “There's a rest area up ahead...about thirty miles.” “How far is that in kilometers?” Sheamus asked desperately. “I don't know, bro. And stop squirming. I have to go, too, and you don't see me doing that.” Sheamus tried not to fidget so much and concentrated on his muscles instead. Roman turned on the stereo. Roman pulled into one of the closest parking spots to the rest area and parked. “I don't think I can make it to the toilet!” Sheamus cried. “Yes you will,” Roman encouraged. “Come on, I'll help you.” Sheamus shook his head. “No, I've got to wee right here!” He threw open the car door and immediately started going potty. “Shay!” Roman scolded, and opened the back passenger door to give Sheamus more privacy before heading towards the building in a careful walk. “Hey, Roman!” Startled, Roman froze. He had to, or he would unleash a flood. He tried to look casual as he searched the darkness for the owner of the voice, his friend and former Shield mate, Dean Ambrose. Dean hugged him from behind, and a brief, sizzling sound escaped Roman's lips. He blushed and held himself, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Dean had nearly made him piss his pants. Dean released him. “Uh-oh, gotta pee, huh?” “Yeah.” Roman continued his tight steps towards the building. “Maybe I should tickle you,” Dean threatened. “Oh, fuck no. I'd piss all over the place.” Dean got the doors to the lobby and the men's room for Roman, and hung with him, chatting happily while Roman used the trough. Dean, Jimmy, Jey, and Naomi had stayed and partied in Chicago after the show, and had had a crazy time, but none of them wanted to stay overnight. So Dean had begged the twins and Naomi for a ride to wherever they were staying for the night. Roman nodded at what could be the right times, they were both drunk, and Dean, who talked a blue streak when he was sober, didn't even seem to take a breath when he was fucked up. Roman could smell weed on Dean's jacket, too. Dean continued yapping about how he'd pissed off Naomi, and wondered aloud if he'd been left here. Roman washed his hands. “Was that why they stopped?” He teased. “Actually, I forgot why we stopped... Hmm...” Dean overexaggerated a thoughtful state for Roman's amusement, pacing back and forth, face in hand, elbow in other hand. “Oh, I got it! Naomi wanted to make sure I wouldn't pee in the rental car again, so she ordered me to use the men's room.” “Are you sure it wasn't an excuse to ditch you?” Although Roman and Dean were tight, onscreen and off, Dean could get annoying sometimes, and he had sympathy for his cousins and Naomi. “No... They wouldn't do that... Would they?” Dean asked, and started pissing in the trough. “I don't know,” Roman replied. “See you later, travel safe.” He was close enough to the door to cut off Dean's reply. He hoped Dean's ride hadn't left. Usually, he wouldn't mind giving Dean a lift, but Roman really wanted to spend time with Sheamus alone. In the parking lot, he caught sight of the twins and Naomi getting out of a bright yellow sedan and waved, not stopping to chat. He headed back to his own rental, a gray Hyundai Sonata, and Sheamus, who'd managed not to get busted pissing in public. As he sat down in the driver's seat, he realized he was getting tired. He was looking forward to relaxing and playing with Sheamus in their hotel room before falling asleep until at least noon. “Now this time I mean it,” Roman told Sheamus as he guided the car back on to the freeway. “No more stopping until we get to a hotel. But, I plan on stopping soon.” Before long, Roman saw a sign for a casino hotel and decided to stay there, if they had a suitable vacancy. Since the lot wasn't full, there was a pretty good chance they had plenty of open rooms. He pulled into the circular drive, left Sheamus in the car, and went inside. It was posh, high-class. Roman inquired the woman at the front desk, and registered himself for a double queen bed room. He grabbed the key cards, and went back to park the car. “Did you get a room, big guy?” Sheamus asked. Roman smiled. “I did.” He handed his brother/lover the cards and drove into the lot. He spotted the yellow sedan. So, Dean was here, too, and his cousins. He found a spot near a side entrance and parked. They went through the process of unloading their luggage and carrying it upstairs to their third floor room, number 317, which Sheamus believed was lucky, as it was St. Patrick's Day. Roman thought that was cute. The room was large, luxurious, and anonymous, with a patio, hot tub, and mini-bar. Sheamus set down his two bags and looked longingly at the restroom. Roman noticed. “You can hold it. Come, let's fix a bed. “ Together, they stripped one of the queen beds down to the mattress cover. They maneuvered Sheamus's PVC mattress protector, and a thrown away sheet over it. Sheamus hopped up on the bed and wiggled. “Can I go potty now?” “Just chill for a bit, bro. Want a drink?” Roman peered into the mini-bar. “Water, please.” “Yeah, I think I've had enough of the hard stuff myself.” He got two bottles of water and handed one to Sheamus. Then, he went to his bags and stripped. Sheamus watched with adoration and appreciation as Roman shed his clothing. He selected a pair of gray boxer briefs he knew Sheamus liked to see on him when they played; they showed precum spots so well, and clung to his manhood tightly. Sheamus stripped down to his pants, too. Roman turned up the heat, and joined him on the bed. Instantly, they began making out, passionate and heavy, having been denied intimacy for much of the past few days on the road, days full of practice and shows. They stroked and caressed each other, loving the feel of each others skin, and trying to convey that love through their fingertips. They entwined their lower bodies and grinded on each other, their cocks long, hot stones held tight in their briefs. Roman shifted, so he was on top, and before he leaned back down to kiss Sheamus, Sheamus saw how much precum had already leaked out of the big guy. It looked like he'd already cum, but Sheamus knew that couldn't be. Roman was very vocal, and loud, when he came. Thinking about that made Sheamus want to cum, but he couldn't, not when he needed to go potty so badly. He squirmed beneath his lover more meaningfully, and Roman got the hint. He sat down beside little brother on the bed, and felt his tummy. Big brother pressed on his bladder, and try as he might, Sheamus weed a little in his cute green pants. He looked up at Roman in dread. But, the big guy only smiled, and stroked him through the wet pants. “It's okay, bro, you can go now.” Sheamus let go and shivered with relief as he soaked his pants and made a big puddle in bed. Roman groped him the whole time, then scooped up handfuls of the wee and playfully splashed him. “All better now?” Big brother asked. Little brother nodded, and splashed more wee from the puddle on to his pants. “Good. My turn.” Roman struck a pose on the bed, kneeling and jutting out his crotch, like a model in a dirty magazine. Sheamus admired the view, tight pants, precum stain, and above the waistband of the pants, the big guy's bladder was bulging. Sheamus wanted Roman to go potty all over him, and scooted closer. He leaned over to kiss him, and whisper his desire. Roman grinned, and nodded. “Leave the pants on, please,” Sheamus begged, as he layed back in the bed puddle. “Just for you, bro,” Roman replied, sensually as he straddled his lover. He leaned down to kiss and touch, and Sheamus felt the hot wee flooding his lap. He tugged Roman's pants down to his hips, to make his mickey pop out, the wee shot up Sheamus's chest. He moaned, and rubbed it in, delighting in the feel of his slick, wet skin. He tried to catch some in his mouth, but he didn't try too hard, he didn't particularly care for the taste after big brother had been drinking. The puddle they were laying in deepened, pure naughty pleasure. They kissed and massaged each others wet skin madly, fraught with passion, desire, and something primal. Their pants slipped off, and they rubbed each others mickeys; the wee made amazing lube, and soon Roman was groaning, and beginning to curse under his breath. “Mmmmm...” Sheamus tried to keep his cries subdued. He was sometimes embarrassed when Roman got so loud, especially when he was all but certain their hotel “neighbors”, or even random people walking past their room, had heard. Even though they were drunk, and silly, big brother knew his body well, and before long, Sheamus made squirties all over himself and the big guy. “Oh, Roman,” he cried softly, as the jiz shot from his mickey. But, he managed to keep rubbing big brother, knowing by experience, (the feeling of his mickey, not to mention the animal-like growling), that Roman was about to explode. “FUCK!” Roman shouted, and delivered a superman punch to the wall, at the pinnacle of pleasure. Then they were cuddling, spent. After awhile, Sheamus began to shiver, the puddle had begun to cool. “Cold?” Big brother asked. Sheamus nodded. Roman snuggled him close. “Don't worry, I'll warm us up.” He loved pissing in bed, and had to go anyway, he always did soon after cumming. He rewarmed the puddle and smiled lovingly at his sub, “Last chance to go potty before bed, bro. Do you need to go?” Sheamus shook his head. “Nuh-uh.” Roman felt his tummy. “Yes, you do. Come on, out with it.” Sheamus weed a little. “All of it, Shay. I don't want you to wet the bed, well, the other bed.” Sheamus obeyed. “Good boy,” Roman snugged him. When the puddle got cold again, they got up and toweled off. They went to sleep in the other bed, tired and satisfied.
  2. Okay, guys, doing it right this time, putting the whole thing in one thread. Sorry for doing it haphazardly in the past. About: This is another WWE fan fiction story. It is slash, and features watersports on all levels, sex, and some BDSM. Not safe for work. Contains vulgar language and some light drug use. Still ongoing/incomplete. Summary: Seth Rollins recovers from surgery with the help of his lover, Dean Ambrose. His other former Shield brother, Roman Reigns, also comes to visit. But, Dean and Roman can't stay, the show must go on. While they travel together, Seth is left behind, but the Authority sends their ailing pet a "gift" in the form of a houseboy. Submissive Seth has to learn how to become dominant. Chapter 1 – Seth's Knee Surgery Seth awoke for the first time he could remember after the surgery. He had to piss so terribly he thought he was going to wet the bed. It was even worse than the awful pain coming from his repaired right knee. He was also nauseated, yet thirsty, like he had the flu. He honestly felt like he might throw up, and moaned. “Hey, you're awake!” Dean's voice said, brightly, and he sprang out of a chair Seth hadn't yet noticed. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” “Trash can, I think I'm going to be sick.” Dean got the trash can there just as Seth began to retch and dry-heave, but that's all it was. Dean was alarmed. “I'll call a nurse.” He pressed Seth's call button, and did his best to comfort his lover, who felt cool and clammy. He stroked Seth's hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Very soon a young, sandy-haired male nurse appeared, smiling kindly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rollins. I'm Matt, your evening nurse. How are you feeling?” Seth felt so awful he couldn't do anything but shake his head. Dean had to speak for him. “He's really feeling sick to his stomach, and feels cold and clammy. He tried throwing up, but nothing came up, since he hasn't had anything since last night.” Matt nodded. “Very common way to feel after surgery. A lot of stress on the body, a lot of drugs and anesthesia. I'll get you something for the nausea. Are you having any pain?” Seth nodded, and cleared his throat. “Yes. It hurts worse now than it did before. I don't think I've ever felt worse overall. On top of what he said, I feel weak, tired, thirsty, and I really need to, um, drain off.” Matt lifted the blankets near the end of Seth's bed. “I'll take your catheter out and get you a urinal right away.” “I'll step out for a bit,” Dean said, and squeezed Seth's hand affectionately before leaving. Matt pulled the curtain around Seth's bed. “I'm not going to lie to you and tell you this won't hurt at all, but it won't hurt nearly as much as you think. Just try to relax, and take deep breaths.” Seth tried to follow the nurse's advice, but it still burned when Matt pulled the plumbing from his cock, and helpless tears sprang to his eyes. “It's okay, it's out now. I'll go and get your meds and and some water so you can have some privacy.” Matt positioned a urinal for Seth, who exploded before his nurse could even turn away. As soon as that discomfort was taken care of, the pain in his knee grew exponentially, and he began to cry like he was six years old again. Matt reappeared, took the urinal away, and handed Seth a box of Kleenex. “Is it the pain?” Seth nodded and wiped his eyes. “As soon as I get your vitals, I'll give you something for the pain,” Matt assured him. Seth continued to sniffle while Matt took his temperature, blood pressure, and looked at the monitor and IV lines. Then, he cleaned off a port in the IV line with an alcohol swab, and gave him two injections through it. “You should be feeling a lot better in a few minutes, Mr. Rollins.” Seth wiped away the last of his tears, and blew his nose. “Thank you. And, call me Seth.” “Okay, Seth. Did you want a wet cloth for your face?” “Yes...That would feel nice.” He took a sip of the water Matt had brought, and it didn't unsettle his stomach. His parched mouth chanted relief. Matt brought him a cool, wet, washcloth from the private bathroom, then busied himself in a computer, putting notes in Seth's chart. Seth washed his face, then folded the cloth over his eyes. He looked horrible when he cried, and he didn't want Dean to know. He wondered how long Dean had been here; Seth had made it known to his friends and coworkers that he didn't want any visitors, so he hadn't expected to find his lover beside him. But, Seth was really happy he did. When the nurse was satisfied Seth was feeling somewhat better, he left, and Dean reappeared, pushing a cart laden with flowers, balloons, and gifts. “Lots of well-wishers, Seth. I already weeded out the fan stuff and had it sent on to the children's hospital.” “Thank you.” Seth smiled, feeling fuzzy from the drugs, and Dean. Dean gave him a hug. When he pulled away, Seth thought he saw tears in his lover's eyes, happy tears. He turned his attention back to Seth's get well gifts. “Just look at all this stuff! I don't know where to start.” “The flowers,” Seth suggested. “Because nothing says 'get well soon' like a dead flower.” “Oh, babe, have a heart!” Dean chided playfully. He picked up an arrangement and read the card. “This is from Mark Henry.” Before Seth could reply, there was a knock on his door, and Dr. Shu, his surgeon, came in. Dean excused himself again. Seth hoped he wouldn't come back with yet another cart full of gifts. Dr. Shu told Seth his surgery had gone very well, and he would be using crutches first thing tomorrow, and that he would have been using them tonight if he hadn't had a shot of morphine. Right then, walking on crutches didn't even seem like a remote possibility to Seth. After Dr. Shu left, Matt came in with an in-room dining menu. “You can order your dinner from here by calling the number on the front, or your friend can bring you whatever you'd like from the outside.” Seth thanked him, and Dean came back as Seth was looking at the menu. He knew he should eat, he hadn't since dinner last night, but he wasn't hungry. “Did you want me to get you some takeout?” Dean asked, and sat down in the chair beside Seth's bed. “I'm not hungry.” Seth set the menu on his table. “You need to eat something, though. Dude wouldn't have brought that to you if they didn't want you to eat something.” “True,” Seth sighed. He tried picking the menu back up, but drugged, he could not. Dean picked it up instead. “Wow, they've got practically everything!” What are you in the mood for? If it's not on here, I'll go get it.” “No, honey, you don't have to do that. I just want something small.” “Soup and a sandwich?” Dean asked. “Yeah, that sounds good. Tomato and grilled cheese.” Dean searched the menu. “They've got it!” He exclaimed triumphantly. “Comfort food. I'll get the same.” “Will you call the number on the front?” Seth asked. “My brain isn't...” “I've got it handled.” Dean picked up the room phone. He ordered their trays, adding milk, coffee, and chocolate cake to the agreed upon tomato soup and grilled cheese, but Seth didn't object, it sounded good. “They should be up in forty-five minutes or less,” Dean told him, after hanging up the phone. “I hope it's less,” Seth said. “I wasn't hungry before, but now I'm so hungry I feel sick all over again.” Dean jumped up and went to the cart of gifts. “There's food in here. Lots of candy, a tin of giant cashews from...Neville...Team Bella sent you four gourmet cupcakes...And Roman sent you this ridiculous chicken-shaped mug, and good old Mrs. Grass.” Seth giggled at the ugly mug. “Let's try the cashews.” Dean opened the decorative tin, and plastic bag within, and extended the tin to Seth while munching one. “These are awesome!” Doped-up Seth nearly upset the tin, so Dean fed him one. As Dean had said, it was awesome. Dean continued to feed him, and Seth started to feel better than he had all day. He caught Dean's hand and kissed the salt and oil from his fingers. “Thank you, honey. I know I said I didn't want anyone here, but I'm really, really happy you're here. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here.” Dean snugged and kissed him. “I'll always be here for you. Do you want some more water?” Seth nodded, and Dean handed him the styrofoam cup. “Thank you.” “Want to look at more gifts?” “No, actually.” “How about a social media update? I did call the boss, let him know your surgery went well, so I'm sure WWE will issue a statement, but you should really do a tweet or something.” “Yeah, I guess I kind of have to. Can you help me?” “Of course.” Just as Dean finished posting updates as Seth, there was a knock at the door, and Matt came in with a young, plump, redheaded nurse's aide. Both of them were carrying dinner trays. “Soup's on, guys,” Matt said, and put Seth's tray on his bed table. “This is Rochelle, one of our certified nursing assistants.” Rochelle handed Dean his tray, and turned her attention to the patient. “Hi, Seth, I'll be your CNA until eleven tonight. Is there anything I can get for you right now?” “More water, please.” He also wanted to piss before dinner, but didn't want to tell her, or any other female for that matter. “Okay, I'll be right back,” Rochelle replied, and left. Matt began pulling the bed table across Seth's lap. “Wait.” Seth blushed. “I want to piss, I mean pee, first.” “I'll get your urinal.” “I'll be right back,” Dean said, and stepped out. Matt drew the curtain around Seth's bed again and handed Seth the necessary. Embarrassed, Seth slipped it under the covers. He found he couldn't piss, despite all of his efforts, his body just seemed to have forgotten how. “I can't go,” he admitted to Matt. “That happens sometimes with pain medication, especially morphine,” Matt explained. “Do you really need to go bad?” “Well, no, I'm just a little uncomfortable, nothing major.” “Okay. Why don't you have dinner, and some water, and I'll come check on you in an hour. Of course, if you need me before then, you can call me. Sound good?” “Yeah, that's cool. Um...what if I still can't go?” “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to, once the morphine wears off. We'll give you a different pain medication next time.” “How long before it wears off?” “Hours yet, but with a full bladder you should be able to go before then,” Matt assured him as he pulled the bed table across Seth's legs. Rochelle reappeared with water and left with Matt. Dean came back in. “You okay?” “I couldn't piss.” Seth drank some water. “The nurse said it was because of the morphine, so they're going to change my pain meds, but I might not be able to piss until it wears off unless-” “Eat, sweetness,” Dean gently interrupted. “Oddly enough, this is really good! Hospital food has gotten a lot better since I was fifteen. That's the last time I was in a hospital.” Seth began to eat. “What for?” “BMX stunt gone wrong. I landed on my face, and my friend was filming it, so the whole thing was caught on tape. We tried to send it in to AFV, but they rejected it on the grounds that it was too gory. I won't go into detail, but I looked like I'd been hit by a bus.” “Damn,” Seth mused. He glanced at his IV drip of saline. It was dripping slowly. He sighed. Dean put down his sandwich and took Seth's hands instead. “What's wrong babe? Can I get you anything?” Seth shook his head. He felt so helpless, and hated himself for it. He wanted to cry again, and hated himself for that, too. Dean sensed his distress, and hugged him tight. Seth winced. “Oops, sorry. Forgot you needed to pee.” Dean loosened his hold. “No, I don't. I just want to, but I can't. I'm so...uncomfortable.” “Do you want me to get your nurse?” “No, honey, he said he'd come check on me in an hour. And, I probably won't even be able to piss then... Fuck, I hate this!” Dean rubbed his shoulders. “Shhh, sweetness. Just relax; stressing out will only slow your recovery.” “I feel like...like I've... Oh, I don't know... I was on top of the world. And I know I've only been here for a day, and I wrecked my knee only a few days a go, but it feels like forever... And the belt, the glory, the glamour, the acme all seems like it happened decades ago.” Seth had never felt more depressed. He slumped in bed. “And, a year's recovery! That may as well be forever!” “It's not a year, it's nine months, babe, tops. And, knowing you, you'll be back in the ring before then.” “Forever,” Seth repeated. “I can't believe this happened to me.” All Dean could do was hug and pat him. Roman, with his recent injury, surgery, and recovery would know best what to say, and Dean made a mental note to text him the next time he stepped out. “Let's focus on right now,” Dean tried, and handed Seth the box of Kleenex. Seth hadn't realized he was crying again until then. “Come on, lunch is getting cold,” Dean coaxed, and Seth resumed eating, feeling detached from himself, Dean his only port in the storm of negative emotions, a save haven, and Seth was so grateful Dean was at his side. That was love. When Matt came back, Seth was more than ready to piss. Dean excused himself again, already busy in his phone texting Roman for help. Despite having to piss so badly he was in pain, Seth was unable to, once again. Matt tried to help him by running water, putting his hands in warm water, and even pressing on his visibly bulging bladder, like his owners sometimes did, but nothing worked, and Seth was a mess of frustrated tears and angry curse words. Matt suggested a break, and there was a knock on the door. Matt went to answer it. “Do you want your friend to come in? He seems pretty concerned. And, he's brought coffee.” Seth nodded, and Matt waved Dean inside. Dean was carrying a drink tray with three large coffees in it. He handed one to Matt, put one on Seth's bed table, and kept the last for himself. “You should drink your coffee,” Dean told Seth. “It's the worst thing for your bladder; at least that's what I heard.” “You heard right,” Matt said. “Drink up, Seth.” Seth refused. “Hell no. I'm not putting any more piss in my bladder...Grrrr...I want the piss out NOW!” “Maybe another position might help. Let's get you sitting up, on the edge of the bed.” Matt suggested. Automatically, Dean set down his coffee and came to help. Seth was crying again. He wondered if he had the courage to just ask for the catheter. Seth was a perched cripple; Dean holding him around the waist from behind, nurse supporting him in front. He was humiliated, and cursed again. “Shhh...” Dean whispered in his ear. “I'm here for you, my love. Everything's going to be okay. Now just relax... Oh my gosh, Seth, I can actually feel your bladder.” “So can I,” Seth sobbed. He heard Matt tell Dean to do something, and suddenly, Dean squeezed Seth tight, pressing his laced-together hands into Seth's bladder. The discomfort was too much to bear, and his body finally gave in. Piss splashed noisily into the bedpan the nurse held. “That's it, Seth, just keep peeing. Dean, you can stop pressing on him, but hold on to him.” Seth was finally pissing on his own. It had never felt better to do so. He was growing shaky, and tired from the relief. He sniffled. Dean snugged him. “Everything is fine, sweetness, don't cry,” he whispered. But, Seth couldn't help it. He was exhausted, not only physically, but also mentally, which was weighing harder on him. He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up a week ago. When Seth finally finished pissing, Matt and Dean settled him back into bed. Matt took his vitals, Dean coaxed him into having some coffee. Matt brought him another cold cloth for his face and asked him if he needed anything else. Seth shook his head, and Matt left, promising to check up on him in a couple hours. Dean giggled. “I'll bet you feel better after that. Matt said that was three times as much as the average guy could hold.” Seth nodded. “Yeah, that was a lot of piss. I still ache from it. Thank you for helping me get it out.” Dean smiled, and they shared a kiss. “I couldn't bear to see you in pain.” “Come here.” Seth patted the bed, and Dean climbed in beside him. They held each other, Seth affectionately stroked Dean's hair, and Dean sighed happily. “You have no idea how worried I was when you were under the knife,” he confessed. “You have no idea how happy I am that you disobeyed my no visitors rule,” Seth responded. “I'm so happy you're here with me, helping me out.” “I want to help you once you're back home, too. With cooking, and laundry, driving, you know, stuff like that,” Dean said, nervously, and Seth was surprised, and pleased, to see him blushing. “I mean, I won't be able to be there when I'm working, but I want to be there for you as much as I can.” “Yes,” Seth said, happily. “I'd love that.”
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