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And with this one, we're finally caught up. 

There's a particular Omo trope that is my least favorite, which is the whole "Guys can pee, but girls can't" scenario. Since Bryce wants to be the perfect gentleman and all, I figured he wouldn't like a situation like that either and would try to fix it. 

*** 

In search of a knife, Bryce pushed open the door to the supply room. He was startled upon seeing a shadow already inside it, but relaxed when he realized it was Elizabeth. “Hello, Bryce,” she greeted sweetly. He noticed she was sorting through a box… A job that was supposed to go to Kenneth today. 

“Paulson will be here to do that soon,” Bryce informed. “He’s just tied up at the moment.” 

“Doing what?” Elizabeth asked. 

“Oh, I mean he’s literally tied up,” Bryce said. “I had to restrain his hands for a fitness drill earlier and then I couldn’t get the knot to come back out.” 

Elizabeth smiled and Bryce blushed. He hoped she didn’t think he was incompetent since he couldn’t manage to untangle the rope… “I could probably untie him for you, I’m good with knots.” 

And damned if that didn’t that just get Bryce’s brain working in over-drive. It had been a while since he’d last… Indulged himself in his peculiar after-dark tastes. He just didn’t get the chance to do it very often. There was one club in town that he went to every once in a while, a secretive place that required a password to get inside of. He hadn’t paid it a visit in months. He missed the feeling of having his body restrained, of pretending to himself that he was trapped and at someone else’s mercy. 

In fact, he’d very nearly volunteered HIMSELF to test out the new fitness drill instead of Kenneth, just so he could enjoy the rope binding his hands. But, with how long it had been since he’d last been to that club— And the almost criminal length of time it had been since Bryce had last had the time and privacy to explore his body on his own— he was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to hide how much he liked the feeling of the rope. Even if he managed to keep his face nonplussed and blank, another area of his body was sure to make its enthusiasm known. 

Bryce was a little… Pent-up, that was it. So, of course Elizabeth innocently talking about knot-tying was making him feel tingly, filling his brain with pictures that were crystal clear and very, very interesting. “Er-hem,” Bryce cleared his throat, realizing he’d been standing there silently for too long. Was he blushing? Could Elizabeth tell what he was thinking about? Of course not, of course not… “W—Well, I do have to cut him free soon,” Bryce said, trying to move on from the topic of Elizabeth and ropes and knots… “H—He has a lot of work to do. He’s supposed to be organizing those boxes, you know? That is his job.” He was babbling, and he knew it. But, he couldn’t stop. Just, hopefully he didn’t say anything— “Oh, and he probably has to take a leak by now, too. Gotta get his hands free!” 

—Anything he shouldn’t… 

Bryce was definitely blushing now. Why the Hell had he said THAT? “I— I mean,” he stammered. “Paulson— Uh, he was doing that thing where he gnaws his knuckles while we did the drill. He always does that when he needs… You know. Isn’t that weird? Such a strange habit, right?” 

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand. Bryce sure loved the sound of his own voice, didn’t he? “Bryce, how was Kenneth biting his hands if they were tied behind his back?” 

“I— I mean, he was doing that BEFORE they got tied,” Bryce said. “Let’s— Let’s not talk about that, I just… Have to get a knife. That’s all.” 
Elizabeth watched him rummage around until he found what he was looking for; a small knife. “I’ll go get him now! Just— It will be a little while. Paulson has to go ALL the way back to his room to pee, you know? Isn’t that weird? Paulson is weird… Smith is, too. I saw him drinking hot sauce like it was water before, how strange is that? I’m not like that, though. I’m—“ 

“Bryce…” Elizabeth said. “Did you eat too much sugar, or something?” She laughed. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“No—Nothing,” Bryce said. “Goodbye!” He hurried for the door and tugged it, but once again it was jammed. “Oh, come on!” 

“We really should repair that door…” Elizabeth said. “It gets stuck way too often.” 

Bryce jiggled the knob and yanked hard on it. It didn’t budge. Nerves assailed him. Kenneth was going to be very angry at him if he didn’t come free him soon, no doubt. Hopefully not mad enough to try and pull off one of his usual pranks. Plus, he was stuck in here with Elizabeth, and whenever he was around her he seemed to forget how words worked. 

And, on top of that, Elizabeth was… Well, kind of right. Bryce HAD had too much of something today. He’d had too much water, and only now that he knew he was stuck in a place without a toilet did he realize the extent to which he needed to use one. He’d been trapped in here with Kenneth not too long ago, and he’d needed to relieve himself then as well. He’d simply gone to the trash bin and unloaded his bladder there. 

Elizabeth was here today though, and so the trash bin may as well have been radioactive. He couldn’t go near it. With some concern, he reviewed the quantity of liquid he’d taken in since he’d last urinated. Three— No, four!— canteens of water were now beginning to voice their intention to check out from his body. He stood frozen, trying to gauge how full he felt now. This wasn’t an emergency yet, he could stave off the pangs by just tensing his thighs a little bit. 

But, it was going to get worse. There was no way around that. And… He could not be around Elizabeth when his urge for the toilet became an all-consuming need. Not again. She’d seen him desperate to go once, he could NOT allow that to happen again. He had to get out of here while his bladder was still in the mood to cooperate and not force him to twist and squirm and— God forbid— hold himself… 

He started to bash his fists against the door and shout, hoping someone would hear to free them. But, after several minutes, nobody had and Elizabeth was beside him. “Bryce, dear. Calm down, someone will be here soon.” She put her hand on his shoulder and he trembled beneath her touch. “Do you get scared in tight spaces?” she asked. 

Bryce shook his head. He didn’t mind enclosed spaces. He liked being restrained, for goodness sake! What he didn’t like was getting desperate to piss in front of someone— Especially not in front of a woman! It was bad enough when another guy saw him writhing! 

He just had to stop thinking about peeing, that was it. He was working himself up when he didn’t even really have to go that badly. His bladder would only clench in on itself and fill right up if he kept thinking so hard about it! He needed something else! “H—Have you ever gotten stuck here before?” 

“Only once,” Elizabeth said. “And, it didn’t last long. Someone came and got the door open after just an hour. I know you got stuck here with Paulson once, didn’t you?” 

“Y—Yes,” Bryce said. Of course, the first aspect of that he recalled was the pee he’d taken into the garbage can. The second aspect he recalled was helping Kenneth unleash a flood of his own… He rocked on his heels nervously. 

“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked. 

“P—Perfectly fine,” Bryce said. “Just anxious. Paulson is not the most patient person. He is probably furious with me right now.” 

“He should understand,” Elizabeth assured. 

Bryce nodded. A little ripple of need surged through him. Kenneth may have been remarkably impatient, but Bryce’s bladder may have been even worse. 

Drip…

Drip… 

Drip… 

Bryce’s brow furrowed. What the Hell was that noise? Just, a steady plinking of liquid… The absolute LAST thing he wanted to hear right now. He glanced around, saw the sink, saw the little dribble continuously seeping from its faucet. 

Annoyed, he stomped over to it and tried to crank it shut, but no matter how hard he pulled, it kept dripping. 

“Sorry,” Elizabeth said. “We have to get THAT fixed too…” 

Bryce didn’t say anything and walked to the other side of the room. But, he could still hear the trickling. In fact, now that he’d noticed it, it was the only thing he COULD hear. He couldn’t hear his own breathing anymore, nor the racing of his heart. He couldn’t hear it when Elizabeth went back to organizing the contents of the boxes. All he could hear was the little drip, drip, drip of the water, and each time a drop fell into the basin, his bladder would shudder. He crossed his legs together at the ankles and hoped it looked casual. 

But, all the leg-crossing in the world couldn’t make the sink shut up. “Why do we even HAVE a sink in here?!” 

“Well, because we keep weaponry in here,” Elizabeth explained. “Sometimes, something… Bursts, and if it gets on your hands you need to wash it off right away.” 

Bryce nodded, but he couldn’t make himself care. If that leaking faucet didn’t quiet the Hell down soon, then something ELSE was going to burst! He started to kneel down onto the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, rocking. He knew he must have looked like something was bothering him. But, fine. Let Elizabeth think he really WAS scared of enclosed spaces. That was better than her finding out that the sound of water could control his bladder better than he himself could! 

Elizabeth watched Bryce scrunching up on the ground and felt a bit of a gnawing sensation in her gut. Was Bryce feeling frightened? She saw him start to shake and assumed that, yes, Bryce must have been very scared at the moment. Poor dear… And, of course, the silly guy was too proud to admit it. 

The twisting in Elizabeth’s stomach grew, she’d seen men like Bryce— men that generally appeared tough, strong and commanding— get frightened before. Dwight, for example. Once, she’d had to draw a little blood from his arm. He’d taken off his shirt, revealing the thick, muscular form of his chest that made him look like a very powerful person, but then she’d gotten the needle and he was trembling and shutting his eyes and obviously terrified. 

And, there was just something about seeing a man like that show such obvious signs of fear, something about having to soothe him and tend to him and make him feel safe. Elizabeth could feel like she was really strong too, then. This guy that was supposed to be able to control everything and fear nothing now had to squeeze her hand because needles were just that scary to him. 

Now, Elizabeth wanted to show Bryce the same comfort. But, while Dwight had had no qualms about whimpering “I— I hate needles…” and admitting that the mere sight of them made his heart pound, Bryce clearly was not going to speak up and say that this cramped space was upsetting him. “Bryce?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” 

Bryce tried to stop rocking, tried to relax his body a little bit. He needed something VERY badly right now. But, there was no way for him to GET that thing at the moment, so he was better off just pretending he had no need for it at all. “I—I’m fine,” he said, the edgy pangs right at his pee-hole sharpening as though to punish him for lying. “Don’t worry.” He forced himself to stand back up, and after a few seconds of toe-tapping, he was leaning against one of the walls. 

Elizabeth was not convinced. Obviously, Bryce was not fine. Even from the other side of the room, she could tell his forehead was clammy, and his cheeks were flushed. Now that he was needing to use the wall to support his body, he looked positively sickly. 

Elizabeth knew that Bryce had an intensely sensitive stomach. He’d requested medication for it several times. It seemed that whenever Bryce was particularly stressed, or ate something with dairy or a high spice content, his stomach would act up. It was generally well known amongst the guards that if Bryce suddenly turned pale and announced a need for a break during a march, everyone had to stop immediately and move aside before he got sick. There had been a few incidents where someone hadn’t gotten out of his way quickly enough, and their boots paid the price for their sluggishness. 

Elizabeth looked around, hoping that if Bryce was about to be ill there was something here for him to do it into. “Are you unwell?” she asked. “Do you have your stomach medication with you?” 

Bryce shook his head. He didn’t carry his nausea medication around with him, although he probably should have. His stomach wasn’t even really bugging him, either. The only things bugging him were his bladder and that infernal sink that must have been constructed deep in the bowels of Hell, hand-crafted by Satan himself for the express purpose of torturing Bryce’s bladder. “I’m not sick,” he promised, turning away from her. 

He wished she would stop trying to figure out what was troubling him. He was NOT going to tell her. Even as his knees rubbed together and it felt to him like every drop that splashed out of the sink somehow teleported itself directly into his bladder, he promised himself that he would never ever admit what was wrong. He just had to hope she wouldn’t manage to figure it out on her own. 

And that meant no leg crossing, and definitely no holding himself. His hands kept twitching though, eager to palm his groin, eager to squeeze tight against his aching urethral opening, eager to do what they could to fight back his flood. Without his permission, they began to creep around his side, getting closer and closer to making contact. He forced them to stop, forced them to grip the bottom of his shirt instead as he stomped his feet. 

Elizabeth watched Bryce’s agitated twitching, and some of her concern started to ebb away. Now, it looked less like Bryce was scared or sick, and more like he was just very angry. Bryce had spoken earlier of Kenneth’s chronic lack of patience, but really he was no better. Bryce constantly had the patience of a man that had just missed the last train of the day and was miles away from home. 

Now that she knew Bryce was just annoyed by his present circumstance and didn’t actually have anything wrong with him, Elizabeth felt free to worry about other things. Particularly, she worried about the leaky sink. She worried about the little pulse of water that was continually beading out of its faucet. She worried about the way each drop seemed to echo in the now silent room. And, mostly, she worried about how the noise was making her wish dearly that she’d used the restroom before coming in here. 

Elizabeth worked very long hours. Her job had her constantly on her feet, running in all directions and with barely enough time to catch her breath, let alone use the toilet. For all the scolding she’d subjected Kenneth to for routinely holding in his bladder until it was filled to its brim, her work necessitated that she do the same thing very often. 

She’d grown mostly used to it, as had everyone that worked in the medical building with her. It was just a fact of life there that pee-breaks were hard to come by. Normally, Elizabeth would endure without complaint. 

But, there were some things that made that harder. If something needed to be washed out, Elizabeth would do her best to find someone else to do it for her, because listening to the sink run for very long would just wreak all kinds of havoc on her bladder. If it began to rain, the sound of it hissing against the roof would often make her double over. She obviously couldn’t avoid washing her hands, and every time she did, she would cross her legs and worry at her lip as the warm water flowed over her flesh and trickled noisily into the basin. 

Just the quiet, plinking drips from that leaky faucet were enough to make Elizabeth squirm. 

Bryce was lucky, Elizabeth thought. Even if the faucet did manage to irritate his bladder, he wouldn’t have too much trouble relieving himself in here. Hell, he could even let it flow right into that sink if he had to. And, if he didn’t like that option, there were jars, bottles, the trash bin… Lots of things he could quickly unzip at and release.

Elizabeth couldn’t do those things, though. She wished she could. If there was a simple way for her to pee somewhere other than a toilet, a way that wouldn’t force her to expose half of her body and risk falling over after squatting into an awkward position, she would be peeing right now. 

There was nothing that could be done for it, however. 

Bryce was seething in his corner of the room. He wanted to find whoever had installed that sink there and wring their neck. He wanted to pull out all of their teeth and then force them to eat them. He wanted to piss into their eyes, because it was all THEIR fault he had so much piss inside him to begin with! He was positive that, had that relentless splashing not been taking place for all this time, he would absolutely NOT be this desperate to relieve himself. He’d need to go, sure, but it would be a manageable need. What he was feeling right now was rapidly becoming very unmanageable. 

He kept stomping his feet, his hands continually kneading the material of his shirt. He wanted to hold himself. He wanted to hold himself very badly. He could feel his pee-hole quivering, could feel urine pulsing urgently inside the pipe of his penis, could feel a drop beginning to bead on his tip before it soaked into the material of his boxers. Once this drop had glided out, another quickly took its place. Then another. And another. And another. He was having the slowest accident in the history of accidents; Losing control over his bladder drop by tiny drop, and he NEEDED a toilet right the Hell now! 

He gave up, if he didn’t— literally— get a grip on things, he was going to wind up very, very wet. His hands finally moved that last little distance, pressing firmly into his groin, and in that instant when his overburdened muscles managed to get a little taste of relief, he felt so much better that his eyes welled up. 

He stood as still as he could, facing away from Elizabeth. Just… So long as she couldn’t SEE his hands, so long as she couldn’t tell where he’d had to stick them, then he’d still be in the clear. His feet ceased thwacking against the floor, his hips beginning to twist instead. 

But, now that Bryce had stopped stomping his boots, absolutely nothing covered up the noise from the faucet. And now it had free rein to make Bryce’s bladder pinch and swell and shake, taunting it and reminding it of just how nice it would feel to pulse out a few more dribbles— Or, perhaps an entire stream? Yes, wouldn’t that feel good? Bryce’s hands tightened their anxious grip and his legs knotted together. 

Unbeknownst to him, the amplification of the faucet’s dribbling had had a very similar effect on Elizabeth. With nothing to even sort of drown out the dripping, it was all she could hear anymore. She almost asked Bryce if he would please consider RESUMING his angry, foot-stomping temper tantrum. Why had he stopped it, anyway? Had he calmed down, or run out of energy? 

She turned around, seeing Bryce now hunched over in the corner… His legs crossed, and his hands obviously doing something around his front… 

And Elizabeth felt silly. 

She’d spent all that time trying to ‘diagnose’ Bryce’s issue when his trembling, sweating panic should have made it plainly obvious. 

What wasn’t plainly obvious though was why he hadn’t made use of the sink, or the trash bin, or anything else in the room yet! If she were able to, she would have done it ages ago! Why was Bryce just making himself hold it when he had no reason to? 

He couldn’t still be shy about mentioning these things to her, could he? Surely, not after what all had happened last time. He’d gone in front of her already! He’d begged her to HELP him go! That hadn’t made him get over whatever little hang-ups he had?

He HAD needed a lot of reassurance last time that what he’d done was okay and understandable… Maybe he needed that again now? “… Bryce?” Elizabeth asked. 

Bryce didn’t dare turn around to reply, she couldn’t see where his hands were, and if he tried moving them he was sure that the loss of his ‘dam’ would cause his overflowing bladder to collapse and spray everywhere. “Y—Yes?” 

“I don’t mean to embarrass you, but do you need the restroom?” 

Bryce couldn’t respond. He felt like the floor was falling out from under him, he was so painfully embarrassed. If they were somewhere that he could actually reach a toilet, he may have just said yes. But, not here, not when admitting to his need would only grant him Elizabeth’s pity and “I’m sorry, we should be let out of here soon. Try and hold on, okay?” 

“Bryce…” Elizabeth repeated. “You know it’s okay if you do, right? You don’t have to be ashamed of it. If you have to go, you have to go.”

“I can’t go…” Bryce mumbled, it was the closest thing to a ‘Yes, I really need to pee!’ that he could manage. 

Elizabeth worried at her lip. If Bryce was desperate enough to be holding himself, then for the sake of his health he really NEEDED to go now. “You can,” she said. 

“There’s no bathroom,” Bryce said, miserable. She needed to stop talking about this. It was only making his urge worsen. Bryce had to pee, but there was no toilet here. If there was no toilet here, then he couldn’t pee, so he wouldn’t. He’d hold it.

Elizabeth was still confused. Bryce had spent several nights outdoors where there wouldn’t be toilets, and he hadn’t put up a fuss about having to pee into a bottle while he was sick and needed to stay in bed. She knew he wasn’t squeamish. “You’re a man, you can go in the trash bin, or the sink, or—“ 

“N—No!” Bryce stammered, squeezing his cock tighter and tighter as his bladder did its best to convince him she was right. How could she SAY that to him? How could she suggest he do such a thing right in front of her!? He couldn’t, he absolutely couldn’t! Elizabeth would never look at him the same way again! She’d always remember the day he’d been so desperate, so unable to restrain his bladder, that he’d gone and emptied it out into a sink in front of her. 

Elizabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. Truth be told, she didn’t really WANT Bryce to pee in here. She’d have to listen to him go! She’d have to listen to him do the same thing she was dying to do, all while she seethed with jealousy at how easy he had it! But, it was her job to keep people healthy, and holding it in wasn’t good for Bryce’s health at all. She did not understand why he was being so stubborn about this. She’d expect this level of defensiveness from Kenneth, considering his problem, but— “Bryce… Are you shy?” Elizabeth asked. 

Oh God, oh God… Bryce’s embarrassment grew more and more heavy on his shoulders, it was weighing him down. “Nope! N—Not usually…” he squeaked. “I— It’s just…” 

“You’re more comfortable around other men? Is that it?” Elizabeth guessed. “Well, I promise not to look.” She’d turned around and given him his privacy the last time he’d accidentally relieved himself in front of her, after all. She thought it would be unwise to mention that incident now, though.

“I— I…” Bryce stuttered. “It would be rude of me to… I am not even supposed to mention to you that I… Need… That…” 

“Bryce…” Elizabeth tried to soften her tone, but it was hard when her own bladder was quavering and lurching inside her. “It’s okay to need things. You can’t help that. If you have to pee, then you should pee, I won’t watch you. I won’t even say anything about it after you’re done, I promise. We can pretend it never happened. Listen to your body and give it what it needs. You’re lucky, you can DO that right now.” 

“I’m… Lucky?” Bryce asked, turning around more now. 

“I… I mean, because you can go so easily,” Elizabeth said. “You don’t have to take off your clothes all the way, and… Stuff..” 

Elizabeth… Had to go as well? Bryce’s neck hairs prickled as his cheeks warmed up until he felt like he’d been badly sun-burnt. Of course, Bryce was not so naive as to think women didn’t ‘go’ (although it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to figure out that they did. Up until he was eight he thought women couldn’t pee since they didn’t have penises.) Bryce had certainly never seen a woman go before. Or heard one say that they needed to.

“Ummm…” Bryce said, and he began to shift back and forth on his feet again from more than just desperation.
“You’re really lucky,” Elizabeth said again, and Bryce watched as she squirmed from one foot to the other, watched as her hips shifted, felt his skin prickle and his face and neck flame as it all made him feel so awkward. He was amazed that, having seen both Kenneth and Dwight dying for a piss several times and not feeling anything more than amusement or concern, that seeing Elizabeth experience the same thing could make him feel so completely out of his depth. He felt like he was intruding on a deeply private moment, like he’d just walked in on her changing her clothes. 

He felt bad for her, of course. She hadn’t gone in all this time, either And he felt like the skin around his bladder was being stretched to an inhuman extent… She must have been ready to burst by now. He understood why relieving herself in here was not going to be easy. She’d have to expose quite a bit of her body and get into an awkward position. She’d have to try and balance without getting any of her pee on her foot, and— 

Guh… Now Bryce had that image in his head. The image of her… Mostly naked— He turned away from her, trying to conceal how red he was getting. 

Beyond the general complications of peeing into the trash bin for her, she’d have to do it with him here. And, of course, she wouldn’t want to do that, would she? And, now Bryce knew he REALLY couldn’t go! It would be so unfair of him! 

Bryce wished he could help, but was it even his place to try? And what if he suggested some sort of solution and it was offensive to her? What if she got angry with him? 

He… Actually had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if there was anything here that would work. It was probably just stupid. She’d likely think it was gross too… But, she was obviously suffering. And he’d be taught he was supposed to help women when something was hurting them. He left his corner, walking with his knees rubbing together. 

Elizabeth was relieved when he’d started moving, “You’re going to—“ 

But, instead of going to either of the receptacles she’d suggested, Bryce went to the box she’d been sorting through earlier. He had a feeling that if she’d been digging through it, it likely had medical supplies in it. He forced one hand off of his cock, his other hand squeezing more and more fiercely as it was forced to make up the difference. 

Sure enough, the box had contained medical supplies, and right away he found a plastic spoon used to dispense medicine, he held it in his hand and spun it around and around. At one end was a wide, round bowl opening, leading down into a thick, short tube that closed off at the bottom. 

Bryce took out the knife he’d retrieved earlier. He hesitated for a moment. He was going to need BOTH of his hands for this, and he was very nervous about what would happen if he released his dick right now. Slowly, very slowly, he uncurled each of his fingers one by one. As soon as the pressure of his hand was completely gone, he was dribbling yet again. He clenched his thighs, twisted his hips, and tried his best to pin his opening shut before his drips became a torrent. 

“Bryce?” Elizabeth asked. “What are you doing?” 

Bryce didn’t answer. He didn’t have any energy left to spare on talking. It all had to go towards accomplishing his task, and holding his bladder. With shaking, needy hands, he began to slice at the bottom of the medicine spoon as carefully and smoothly as he could. The plastic material was thick and harsh, a little tricky to cut into, but when he pressed down as hard as he could, it started to come apart. 

Once the bottom had been removed, he held the medicine spoon in one hand as the other quickly— and so, so thankfully— flew back between his legs and gave his damp cock a nice, firm squeeze. He went back to Elizabeth and held up the modified spoon, before realizing he hadn’t actually thought about what he was going to say to her. 

“Bryce, what in the world did you do THAT for?“ Elizabeth asked. “I thought you needed to—“ 

“Look, see the top part is kind of like a funnel?” Bryce interrupted, and there was something almost like pride in his voice. He felt so smart for coming up with an answer for her. “And, now the bottom is open so you can… You can pour stuff straight through it!” 

“You—“ Elizabeth blinked at him, and then she was laughing, but this was quickly interrupted by a wince as her bladder obviously contracted hard. 

Bryce’s face fell when she’d begun to snicker at him. Maybe this had been a stupid idea after all. At least she wasn’t mad… “I just— I thought— I wanted to help…” 

“That’s… So cute, Bryce,” Elizabeth said. “You’re really just a sweetheart underneath all that ‘tough guy’ stuff, aren’t you?” 

“I’m n—not sweet,” Bryce mumbled, tangling his legs back up again. Ohhh, she didn’t like it. Which meant she wouldn’t be able to go. Which meant Bryce couldn’t, either. But… Gah, Bryce really, really couldn’t wait much longer! 

“Give it here, silly,” Elizabeth said.

Bryce handed the spoon over, grateful to have his other hand freed up at least. Immediately, it joined the first in clamping around his dick and practically trying to strangle the life out of it. 

Elizabeth looked at the item… It could work. She knew a lot about human anatomy, she would of course have no trouble with knowing where to place its opening. And she could probably get away with just lifting her skirt up a little and pulling her underwear down some. No need to take everything off the waist down. She was incredibly shocked that Bryce would not only make this for her, but hold his own bladder until after he’d done so. She’d always gotten the impression that Bryce was pretty selfish, not the sort of person to put someone else’s needs before his own at all. Even if he didn’t like it, Elizabeth decided that he really was a sweet, sweet guy underneath his rough edges. “I think this might help,” she said. “Good idea, Bryce.”

And, even with his bladder still brimming with fizzing, boiling piss, Bryce felt great. People didn’t normally like his ideas. He seldom even HAD any real ideas. He’d never thought of himself as being creative. Whenever he fell victim to Kenneth’s mischievous jokes, Bryce could never come up with anything decent to strike back with. 

He realized he’d been standing in front of her, basically jogging in place with his hands around his dick, for a few minutes now. “Y—You can use it? B—Because I really need—“ 

“I think so,” Elizabeth said. “Go ahead, Bryce. Use the sink.” ‘Teach it a lesson,’ she added to herself. After the hours it had spent tormenting her and her bladder, it deserved to get absolutely drowned in Bryce’s piss. 

Bryce thought similarly. He hated that sink. It needed to be punished. It needed to soak up all of his wrath. He limped and stumbled over to it, unclasping his belt before he’d even arrived. Bouncing on his heels he made quick work of his buttons and zip, brought himself onto the tips of his toes and freed his penis, which he only just then realized had resumed dripping. 

That didn’t matter anymore though. He was aimed. He was finally ready to let it out… 

He was finally ready to let it out! 

Ohhhh…. It wouldn’t come out! 

He grunted and pushed hard against his muscles, straining to look behind himself. Elizabeth was facing the opposite direction already, standing at the trash bin and, he figured, likely trying to figure out the best way to ‘use’ it. She wasn’t watching him, she wasn’t paying attention to him. And she WANTED him to go right now. She WANTED him to flood this sink as badly as he wanted to do it himself! 

Drip… 

Dribble…
Trickle… 

Hsssss….. 

His floodgates slammed wide open, and out the torrent spilled. Immediately, he felt a million times better than he had in hours. The tension slowly sliding out through his pipes, bursting forth to create an explosion of relief… It made him start to pant and gasp and shiver with pleasure. 

He also didn’t feel nearly as awkward doing this as he’d feared. Elizabeth had instructed him to pee into the sink, and here he was just doing as he’d been directed. He was doing the right thing, he was doing what had been asked of him. “Phew…” he sighed, trying hard not to moan too perversely. 

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was indeed trying to empty her bladder into the bin. She’d stuck the spoon Bryce had given her into place. She was grateful for her time studying anatomy, as she knew if she hadn’t, she would have assumed the place where her urine came out was farther forwards than it actually was and then end up making a mess trying to do this. She knew she’d placed the opening where it needed to go, and she was standing as close to the bin as she could get so she didn’t think she’d miss it… 

But, this was absolutely NOT the position she was used to peeing in. And, her body just didn’t seem to grasp what was expected of it now. The idea that it was actually time to pee wasn’t registering to it. It was like her bladder was saying ‘What is going on? This is NOT how we do this!’ and then stubbornly refusing to even give it a try. 

She could hear Bryce going, could hear his stream pounding away into the sink, and it was making her NEED to let go a lot worse, but it wasn’t doing anything to help her actually ease her muscles and begin peeing. It just felt… Weird. There was no other way to describe it. It was just plain weird. After years and years of being conditioned to only urinate while seated, suddenly flipping the script wasn’t easy. 

She remembered how confused she’d been to learn that Kenneth had difficulty urinating in spite of there being nothing physically wrong with his ‘pipes’. She remembered how confused she’d been to figure out that Kenneth couldn’t pee because of something unpleasant going on inside his brain, but now she almost kind of understood it. From her limited understanding of it, this wasn’t exactly like what Kenneth went through on a daily basis, but now the statement ‘I can’t pee because I’m too nervous’ didn’t sound very outlandish. 

She heard Bryce’s release begin to slow, heard the last of his pee splash into the basin, heard him crank on the faucet a little further to wash the remains down the drain and clean his hands, and she still hadn’t let go of one drop. 

Bryce turned back around, saw Elizabeth still there at the bin… There wasn’t any… Wetness around her, so he knew she hadn’t messed up with the spoon. He looked back away. “Er… Elizabeth? You finished?” he called. 

Elizabeth felt silly about it, especially after that speech she’d given to Bryce about not being ashamed, but she was embarrassed. “I… Um… Bryce?” 

“Y—Yes?” 

“I… Can’t…” Elizabeth mumbled. 

“You—“ 

“This… Feels strange, I’m not used to… Standing to do this. I can’t get it started.” 

Bryce blushed all the way down to his feet as he remembered the few times he’d ‘assisted’ Kenneth when he’d had trouble voiding. He pictured himself doing that with Elizabeth now. That would be so much more awkward… 

It really shouldn’t be, though! The times he’d helped Kenneth, he’d been able to… Well, he’d had a decent view of Kenneth’s dick as he’d held onto him and rubbed him. (And, yes, maybe a couple times an annoyingly uncontrollable little part of his brain would force him to think something like ‘You know, Kenneth has a pretty nice looking cock, doesn’t he?’, ‘Why in the world is he SO shy about whipping THAT out?!’ or ‘That’s a LOT bigger than I’d thought it’d be. Guess that’s where all his missing height went.’)

But, if he held onto Elizabeth like that, he wouldn’t see anything of the sort. If he looked down, he’d see the tube of the spoon poking out from beneath her skirt. Nothing private. Nothing of any interest. But, it would still feel so awkward. Holding onto a woman, rubbing her shoulders and helping her calm down while she peed standing up like a man… It would feel all kinds of strange. 

Would she even WANT him touching her while she did something so personal? 

He would save that for a last resort. Elizabeth, near as he could tell, was not pee shy like Kenneth was. Just a little nervous in a new and very foreign situation. There were probably other ways to help her go that weren’t so intimate. 

Well, he knew one thing that usually got HIM peeing… He went back to the sink and cranked it on full blast. Liquid sprayed out of it loudly and forcefully, and although he’d only just emptied his bladder, Bryce tensed his thighs a bit at the noise. “W—Will this do anything?” he asked. It was sure doing something to him… 

“Ohh…” Elizabeth groaned as the quantity of pee inside her seemed to multiply. She felt it all straining downwards, fighting to force its way out, felt a stinging little pinch, and then— 

Hsss… 

She was going.

She was still so freaked out by trying to relieve herself while fully upright like this, and her stream was coming out as little more than a dismal trickle. But, perhaps that was a good thing, she was sure the spoon was probably very easy to overflow if she went too much at once. 

Speaking of the spoon though, it was really doing the trick! She didn’t feel any warmth going down her legs, and she watched as her liquid traveled down the tube and splashed into the trash can. This was working! This was actually working! And, even though she’d assumed this would help her, it was still amazing to actually see it happen. She was peeing, and she hadn’t needed to take everything off first, she hadn’t needed to squat, she hadn’t needed to wait for an actual toilet to present itself. She could go pretty much anywhere that Bryce or any of the other guys could now! That felt so good. All of it did. It was freeing to have found a solution to a problem that had left her squirming many times before. It was such a relief to let her bladder relax. And, it made her feel so fuzzy that Bryce apparently cared about her enough to help her out with this. “Ahhh…” 

Bryce heard Elizabeth sigh and knew she’d succeeded. He didn’t hear her groan, so he knew the spoon was working out and she wasn’t spilling anything onto herself or the floor. He didn’t dare turn back around. He just kept staring at the sink. And at the thick stream of water gushing and gushing and gushing out of it. He couldn’t stop staring at it, and he absolutely couldn’t stop listening to it… He crossed his legs together. God, he seriously had to go AGAIN! He HATED that noise so much! 

“Elizabeth—!” Bryce gasped out. He’d intended to ask her if she was almost finished because he was getting so uncomfortable from holding it in again, but he clammed up, nervous. And when Bryce got nervous, he of course said stupid things. “Whe—When you’re done… I’m not sure if it’s gonna be the same with the spoon, but I think you should make sure you shake it out a lot! A few times, I didn’t shake off good enough and I got a wet spot on—-“ Dear Lord in Heaven, what the fuck was he doing!? “N—Never mind!” 

Elizabeth tried not to laugh, knowing she had to keep pretty still right now to make sure everything continued to flow correctly. But, Bryce was just so silly… It was a good thing she was nearly done, because she couldn’t hold back the laughter. Just as Bryce had said, she shook the spoon to get rid of the remaining residue. She was going to have to rinse it out as well, so she went back to the sink, finding Bryce there squirming away beside the still running faucet. 

“Bryce, I thought you just went…” Elizabeth said. 

Bryce now knew for sure that it wasn’t possible to actually die of embarrassment. If it was, he would have just keeled over. He didn’t want to admit what the problem was, he really, really didn’t want to… 

Elizabeth was putting a hand on his forehead, “Did you hold it too long, dear? It’s not normal to have to go this often. Let me know if you have any burning or stingi—“ 
“I’m fine. It’s just… Th—The sound of water makes…” Bryce forced himself to say. “It… It’s always made me REALLY have to go. I don’t know why. If it rains at night, I barely get any sleep because I’m up to pee so many times.” 

“Oh…” Elizabeth said. Then, she smiled. “It does that to me, too. The leaky faucet was driving me crazy.” 

“Me too!” Bryce said, grinning. The shame that had been weighing him down all this time evaporated. 

Elizabeth started to wash out the spoon, “Go ahead and use the bin, Bryce,” she said, watching as he continued to squirm. 

And this time, Bryce listened without any argument. He hurried to the bin and unloaded his bladder, feeling so much better because Elizabeth understood. She didn’t think it was silly that a simple noise could leave him out of his mind with desperation after all. 

It was hours before someone came by and managed to pop the door back open. And during that time, both Bryce and Elizabeth were continually taunted by the dripping of the sink. Each were up to pee again several more times, but Bryce no longer felt embarrassed and Elizabeth no longer struggled to get her stream to start while standing up. It was so much easier now, for both of them. 

Outside, Bryce noticed that the sun had gone down. The moon was high in the sky. No doubt, Kenneth wanted to tear him about forty-seven new assholes right about now… Maybe he SHOULDN’T go free the guy’s hands just yet. Kenneth would have a much harder time strangling him without them. 

But, Elizabeth said “Don’t forget about Kenneth,” so Bryce was left with no choice. 

He assumed Kenneth must have gone back to his room, so he went there. The door was locked, which was unusual. They weren’t really supposed to lock the doors unless told to do so… Maybe Kenneth had just needed to pee, though. Bryce wouldn’t be too shocked if Kenneth locked the door to the restroom as well as the door to the whole room for that added bit of security… 

Probably couldn’t pee with his hands tied though… 

Bryce knocked on the door. “Paulson!” he shouted. “I’ve got a knife!” 

That was probably not the most friendly greeting he could have made… He couldn’t imagine ever opening the door to someone screaming at him that they had a knife. 
From the other side of the door, he heard a lot of rustling, a lot of whispering… Whispering that sounded almost scared? Jeez, he REALLY shouldn’t have yelled about the knife. He hadn’t meant to frighten anyone. 

Then, Dwight had opened the door. “H—Hello, Bryce!” he greeted, and there was something in his tone Bryce had never heard before. His face was also extremely flushed, like he was coming down with a cold. And… 

“Pffft,” Bryce snickered. “Your fly’s undone, Smith.” 

Dwight gave a little jolt and quickly zipped it up. “S—Sorry…” 

“Heheheh, were you walking around like that all day?” Bryce asked. “That’s hilarious.” 

“M—Maybe…” Dwight said. “H—How silly of me… Eheh, so what did you need?” 

“I got a knife to cut Paulson’s hands free,” Bryce said. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I took care of that earlier. Right, Kenneth?” 

“R—Right!” Kenneth shouted from somewhere behind him. There was a lot less anger in his voice than Bryce had expected. 

“So… Yes,” Dwight said. “Goodnight, Bryce, I—“ 

“Paulson!” Bryce called. “I’m really sorry I was late, I got stuck in the storage room again! Someone really has to fix that door!” 

“Th—They do,” Kenneth said. “G—Goodbye now!” 

Dwight started to shut the door, but Bryce didn’t feel right. He’d expected some kind of an argument! Some kind of a blow-up, some kind of… Something! Kenneth was SUPPOSED to yell at him! Kenneth was SUPPOSED to call him all sorts of names and vow to have his revenge! But, instead they both seemed in a big hurry for him to just leave! 

They must have already been plotting a prank of some sort to get back at him. That was it! “What are you doing?” Bryce asked, hoping the suspicion in his voice was clear. “What exactly are you up to in there?” 

There was real fear that flashed in Dwight’s eyes then, which was not what Bryce had been expecting at all. “N—Nothing, Bryce. Just getting ready for bed. It is late. We are tired.” 

Bryce narrowed his eyes. He knew Dwight was lying. He knew Kenneth must have cooked up a really nasty scheme this time.

A part of him was excited to see what it was. 

“A likely story,” Bryce scoffed. “I know what you’re really doing.” 

The fear in Dwight’s eyes was a lot more than a flash then. “We’re not,” he said. “Whatever you’re thinking— You have the wrong idea. And— And you don’t have to tell anyone. There’s nothing going on, okay?” 

Bryce dropped his mocking tone. Something was off here. This wasn’t how Dwight acted when he and Kenneth were getting up to mischief. This wasn’t how Dwight acted… Ever. “Is there something wrong?” 

“No,” Dwight said. “I mean… Kenneth’s hands are very sore. Those ropes were tight, he lost circulation for a bit. I’m just worried about him, that’s all.” 

“Want me to look?” Bryce asked. 

Dwight shook his head. “If… If he’s still hurt tomorrow, you can. I just think he needs to sleep it off, probably.” 

“Probably,” Bryce agreed. “Tell him again that I didn’t mean to keep him waiting, okay?” 

“I will,” Dwight promised. 

“Goodnight,” Bryce said, watching as Dwight quickly closed the door again. 

‘That was weird…’ Bryce thought. Dwight must have been very worried about Kenneth’s hands. Bryce had lost circulation in his hands a few times before when he’d gone to that club. If it went on for too long, he was supposed to use the special word they’d told him to use so they’d untie him right away. 

He hoped Kenneth was alright tomorrow.

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7 hours ago, secretomoact said:

(And, yes, maybe a couple times an annoyingly uncontrollable little part of his brain would force him to think something like ‘You know, Kenneth has a pretty nice looking cock, doesn’t he?’, ‘Why in the world is he SO shy about whipping THAT out?!’ or ‘That’s a LOT bigger than I’d thought it’d be. Guess that’s where all his missing height went.’)

I am WEAK, okay. I am absolutely on the FLOOR right now, and you will have to scrape my insides up with a fucking shovel.

Also it's cute how Bryce was nice enough to make a kind of STP prosthetic for Elizabeth!!! Awww. Tbh before reading your stuff I had no idea those existed so I felt super smart when he made it and explained it to her and I realized what was going on lol. 

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25 minutes ago, astralis said:

I am WEAK, okay. I am absolutely on the FLOOR right now, and you will have to scrape my insides up with a fucking shovel.

Also it's cute how Bryce was nice enough to make a kind of STP prosthetic for Elizabeth!!! Awww. Tbh before reading your stuff I had no idea those existed so I felt super smart when he made it and explained it to her and I realized what was going on lol. 

Heh, Bryce is like "Stupid, sexy Kenneth!!" 

Bryce is such a sweet guy when he wants to be. 

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11 hours ago, secretomoact said:

There's a particular Omo trope that is my least favorite, which is the whole "Guys can pee, but girls can't" scenario. Since Bryce wants to be the perfect gentleman and all, I figured he wouldn't like a situation like that either and would try to fix it. 

Thank you! I hate that trope with a passion as well! It makes me irrationally angry. 

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4 hours ago, secretomoact said:

Heh, Bryce is like "Stupid, sexy Kenneth!!" 

Bryce is such a sweet guy when he wants to be. 

efjsdfkjf "Paulson's such a dumbass.... well, he's dumb, but his ass sure isn't.... I mean what- I mean - he's just so sexy- I mean- I have to go do guard things now. Like a guard. Because that's what I am." *yeets into the stratosphere* 

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Predictably, Kenneth was a lot more anxious about what had just transpired than Dwight was. “You should not have opened the door,” he said sharply. “He could have easily found out. We should have pretended to be asleep.” 

“He wouldn’t have believed we were both able to sleep through him shouting about having a knife,” Dwight said. “Besides, it was fine. Nothing bad happened.” 

“Not THIS time,” Kenneth said. “But, what about the next? If Bryce finds out—“ 

“You’re probably going to think I’m crazy,” Dwight said. “But, I don’t think Bryce would care that much.” 

“Of course he would!” Kenneth said. “You know how he is about following rules, and you and I are breaking a BIG one right now. We both know this is the last thing we should be doing.” 

Dwight didn’t reply. He felt a churning in his stomach. Kenneth wasn’t… Wrong, exactly. What they were doing really was forbidden, it really could get them both hurt if the wrong person found out about it. It sure didn’t feel good to hear Kenneth talk about it that way, though. What they ‘should’ have been doing and what they ‘needed’ to be doing were two different things. “But, I love you…” 

“I love you, too,” Kenneth said. “That’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. No more risks like that. No more opening the door when we’re in the middle of—“ 

“I panicked,” Dwight admitted. “I thought it would be worse if we just stayed in here and let his mind wander.” 

“He would have assumed we were asleep, surely,” Kenneth said. “Speaking of that, it’s late…” He left Dwight’s bed and started towards his own. 

“Kenneth…” Dwight said, disappointment clear. 

Kenneth didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. He wanted to fall asleep in Dwight’s arms, listening to his heart beat in his chest. He wanted to feel the warmth of his friend around him… He was just so nervous now. “G—Goodnight,” he said softly as he climbed into bed. 

“Goodnight…” Dwight mumbled. 

It took Dwight quite some time to fall asleep. His bed now felt empty and hollow without someone to hold through the night. He even considered taking some of Kenneth’s insomnia medication to help himself drift off, but thought better of it. 

*** 

Dwight wasn’t sure which was worse; his way too empty stomach or his way too full bladder. He was dying to eat something— Anything, and he was dying to pee somewhere— Anywhere. 

He hadn’t eaten in two days, and as he stood at the back of the agonizingly long line for the single toilet he had to share with dozens of other boys, he felt so weak and dizzy that he could barely stand up on his tightly crossed legs. 

It wasn’t that the nuns didn’t want to feed him. They never denied the boys in the orphanage meals as a punishment. They wanted all of the children to have plenty to eat, but that seldom ever happened.

Dwight tried not to be angry each night he went to bed with an empty stomach, but when hunger ripped through him as he struggled to sleep, it was hard not to. The worst part was he didn’t know who he was angry at. He knew the nuns were doing their best, so he couldn’t be upset with them. The other boys were just as hungry as he was, so it wasn’t their fault, either. Dwight didn’t understand why there was hardly ever anything to eat, though he had heard some of the nuns speak in whispers about the town’s mayor ‘misusing funds’. He didn’t know what ‘funds’ were, but he wondered if that meant that the mayor was who he should have been angry at. 

He felt cold all of the time, his body was so hollow and empty. His life was so hollow and empty. Unlike some of the boys here whom had lost their parents to illness or other tragedies, Dwight didn’t even know who his parents were. He’d been in the orphanage for as long as he could remember. He was five when he worked out what that must have meant; His parents had looked at him as a baby, and decided they just didn’t want him. He’d cried so hard the day he’d realized that. 

One of the nuns tried to comfort him, she promised that his parents actually had wanted him very much, but that they were broke and didn’t have a home for him to grow up in. She said that his mother had been crying a lot when she’d dropped him off, pleading with the nuns to make sure he was safe and always had somewhere to sleep. Dwight wasn’t sure if that story was true, but if it was it didn’t make him feel much better. Either his parents had never loved him, or they were out somewhere with broken hearts and always wondering if he was okay. 

Dwight may have always had somewhere to sleep, but beyond that he had nothing. What he most wanted was a friend, but he couldn’t have that. All of the boys here were small, their bodies shrunken by lack of food, but Dwight was both tiny and timid. He was the sort to give into things without much of a fight, and so he was always shoved around and taken advantage of. 

Dwight always felt so empty.

And, that was kind of why he had to go pee so badly right now.

Occasionally, the clawing within his stomach would get so painful for Dwight that he just had to put something in himself to feel less hollow. With food so hard to come by, water became his only means of survival, his only means of staving off the ache. He’d go to the sink, crank it on, and chug the liquid until he finally felt full. 

But, soon enough, he’d start feeling full in a way that wasn’t pleasant at all. He was only young, and his body was always so fatigued; He couldn’t hold his pee for that long no matter how hard he tried. A slight urge would become an emergency for him in a matter of minutes. The orphanage had one bathroom, and Dwight would often find himself doubled over, very nearly crying as he began to get damp before he made it through the line. 

This time, the line seemed longer than ever. Dwight craned his head around the boys right in front of him, trying to see where it ended and make a guess as to how long he still had left to wait. His knees were knocking together and he wished he could just skip ahead of everyone else and go! By the looks of things, some of the boys ahead of him didn’t even have to go that badly! It was unfair! The line should be organized according to who had to go the worst, not according to who just got there first! 

Dwight’s heart was beating rapid-fire in his chest. There had been several times where he hadn’t been able to last through the line. There had been several times where he’d made a big puddle on the floor and everyone had laughed as he shook and cried. The nuns were usually nice about it. They’d make him clean up his mess himself, but they were never mean. The other boys, though? They could be monstrous. Every accident netted Dwight at least one week of constant teasing, of being told he needed to wear diapers, of being called a baby. Dwight would always well up with tears from all the taunts, and that only made them laugh more as he confirmed to them that he really WAS a baby. 

Dwight had had accidents so many times by now that he could tell when one was coming. He knew how his body would feel in the minutes leading up to a disaster. He could recognize the feelings that meant he was about to go in his pants again. 

He had to do something! He couldn’t take the embarrassment again, he just couldn’t! His eyes were already starting to well up. He had to… There was an outhouse located back behind the orphanage that hadn’t been used since before Dwight was born. He didn’t know if he was still allowed to go pee in it… Nor did he know if he could even MAKE it there in time. 

There was… Ohhh, there had to be something— There just— 

There was a bucket. An old, dusty bucket in the corner of the hallway, one that held screws and things that had fallen out of the walls over the years. He could— He HAD to— 

Before really making the decision, he’d run to the bucket as fast as he could. He lowered his pants and let himself finally relax. Phew… That was close! Dwight smiled. He felt so proud of himself for thinking of something just in time! 

He knew everyone still in line was staring at him, he could feel their eyes searing into his back. They were probably jealous because he’d thought of this first and didn’t have to hold it now. Dwight was nice, though. Once he was done, he’d move aside and let someone else go here. He didn’t think he could fill the whole bucket up all by himself. 

Dwight got a little lost in how good he felt now. So lost that he didn’t hear his name being called until the person was shouting. He jumped, and looked behind himself for a second to find one of the nuns, Sister Isabelle, staring at him with a look of astonishment on her face. “What are you DOING?” 

And, with that, Dwight snapped out of it. This hadn’t been a good idea at all. He knew he was in trouble now. He couldn’t hide this, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t peeing into the bucket. Especially since, because he’d started going he couldn’t make it stop now. He just kept standing there, using the bucket, unsure of what to say for himself. Even when he was finally done, he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“Dwight!” Isabelle said, sharpness in her tone. 

The tears from earlier returned. Dwight hated being punished. He hated feeling like he’d upset somebody or done something horrible! He hadn’t MEANT to be bad, he’d just… “Th—The line was too long, I really had to go…” he tried to explain. 

“That doesn’t mean you can… Do THAT anywhere other than a toilet,” Isabelle said. “Come with me, we need to talk about this.” 

Dwight followed after her, the backs of his eyes were stinging and a pressure was caught in his throat. Once they were in one of the bedrooms, Isabelle began “Dwight, you’re usually so well behaved, I can’t believe you’d—“ 

Dwight choked out the sob that had been caught in his mouth for the last several minutes. “I—I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I couldn’t hold it anymore!” He started to rub beneath his eyes, wiping at his nose. “I tried, I promise, but I couldn’t!” 

Isabelle’s tone softened a little. She’d thought he’d peed in the bucket as a joke, an attempt to make the other boys laugh. But, he was sobbing so hard now. He must have been telling the truth. “You still shouldn’t have done it there,” she said gently. 

“I— I didn’t have anywhere else, I was about to—“ 

“Let’s see if we can help you out,” Isabelle said. She left the room for a moment, and when she returned she had a ceramic bowl. Dwight recognized what it was. If one of the boys was badly sick and needed to stay in bed, he would be given a pot like that to keep under his bed so he could go pee without getting up. “I’ve noticed you don’t seem to be able to wait as long as some of the other children can,” she said. “Maybe it would help if you kept this underneath your bed so you always have somewhere you can go right away?” 

Dwight’s tears started to dry. His face stung, and he wasn’t sure if it was from crying so hard or from being embarrassed that he couldn’t ‘wait as long as some of the other children’ could… “Y—Yes,” he said. “That would help. Thank you.” 

Isabelle set down the pot and reached to hug him. Dwight wondered if this was what a Mother’s hug felt like. It was so soft, so good, and so, so warm… 

Really, really warm, actually… 

*** 

Dwight’s eyes slowly slid open. He blinked a few times, trying to forget about that dream— Or memory, rather. It had been a while since he’d last thought about anything that had happened in his life before meeting Kenneth. And what an odd event to suddenly remember like that. 

Strangely, considering the topic of his dream, Dwight did not feel any urge to get out of bed and relieve his bladder. It felt perfectly empty. He rolled back over, and— 

And felt something squish between his legs.

Fuck. 

He knew what he was about to find, but even so, when he pulled down his sheet and saw his wet boxers and the soaked sheet beneath him he groaned. Maybe it was actually a GOOD thing Kenneth hadn’t slept here tonight. Dwight would probably have a heart attack if he’d managed to drench both of them. 

God dammit. Why did this happen NOW? He hadn’t done this since he was twelve! He didn’t think he’d drank any more water than he usually did yesterday, and before he went to sleep he’d… Skipped using the toilet. Right. He’d been fully focused on talking to Kenneth. So focused that he’d gone to sleep with an un-emptied bladder. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done that. It was even more baffling when he remembered all the trouble he’d had getting to sleep. Through all that tossing and turning and unintended wakefulness, the pressure that was no doubt pulsing down his length the whole time hadn’t pierced his brain. 

And now, he had another problem. He couldn’t get new sheets until tomorrow— And, he’d better come up with a good excuse before he made the request for them. He also wouldn’t have an opportunity to wash them for several days. He definitely didn’t want to sleep in his puddle now. It was really cold, and the stench of his urine made his nose crinkle. 

Kenneth’s bed was still perfectly dry, though… 

Dwight stood from his bed, peeled off his wet boxers and put on a fresh pair, then quietly went to his friend’s bed. He stayed standing beside it, watching as Kenneth thrashed about in his sheets, moving like an angry tornado. Every so often, his arms would reach out in front of him and wave around, before his hands curled back against his chest. 

Kenneth never moved around so much when they shared a bed, he was always completely still then. Dwight thought Kenneth was probably having a bad dream, but even when he had nightmares when they were sleeping together, he didn’t toss and turn like this… Perhaps, Dwight considered with some embarrassment as he looked back at the dampness coating his own bed, Kenneth was squirming because he just needed to ‘go’ and couldn’t wake up. Dwight couldn’t recall Kenneth visiting the restroom before sleep, either. 

Dwight thought about waking him, he wouldn’t want both of them to have wet beds tonight… Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember Kenneth ever wetting the bed before. He was sure he must have had accidents in his sleep back at his Father’s house, if only because of the terrible rules there. But, other than that… Kenneth hadn’t ever peed the bed when he’d spent the night with Dwight when they were little. 

Dwight crawled into bed beside his friend, still wondering if he needed to wake the other man up for a pee break. But, as soon as he’d nestled under the covers next to him, Kenneth’s anxious, uncomfortable squirming all ceased. Dwight’s eyes widened as he braced himself for the warm feeling of his friend accidentally wetting the sheets, but it didn’t come. Dwight did feel a lot warmer though. 

Kenneth had wrapped his arms around him, and had gone completely still and relaxed. Dwight yawned and snuggled closer. He’d been what Kenneth needed to sleep soundly all along… 

*** 

When the alarm went off the following morning, Dwight tiredly opened his eyes and Kenneth very abruptly opened his. There was obvious panic on his face, his pupils darting in all directions, his teeth gnashing. Dwight sat up, prepared to apologize for sneaking into his bed last night when Kenneth had told him not to, but when Kenneth opened his mouth and announced “I’m going to burst! Get out of my way, NOW!” Dwight knew that he wasn’t the cause for his uneasiness after all. 

Dwight crawled over enough to give Kenneth the space to fling himself out of bed and immediately perform an elaborate, desperate dance on the spot. Dwight could see the way his pajama bottoms clung tightly to a firm, swollen curve in his center, but his view was quickly obstructed when Kenneth mashed his hands against his dick. 

When Kenneth headed for the restroom, he did so with his knees glued against one another, only barely able to make himself walk. Dwight quite honestly found himself feeling so bad for the poor guy that he considered getting out of bed and just carrying him the last few feet to the toilet. Kenneth made it there on his own though, thankfully. And, to Dwight’s amazement, he didn’t shut the door behind himself. 

Even more astonishing, it only took a second or two for Dwight to hear an intensely forceful stream begin… ‘Wow,’ Dwight thought. ‘Poor thing was exploding…’ Kenneth’s release sounded like an immense, disastrous hurricane that could leave entire cities under water for months. The pressure of his pee echoed, the hiss so hard and so fast… And the only thing louder than all that gushing liquid was Kenneth’s moaning. “Ahhhh… God, Dwight,” he called. “Don’t you EVER let me forget to do this before bed again!” 

“Eheh… Of course not, Kenneth…” Dwight said with a blush. Remembering WHY he’d had to sleep beside his friend last night, he thought it really ought to have been Kenneth reminding HIM to relieve his bladder before sleeping. 

Kenneth kept pouring away, groaning and panting and altogether being very, VERY vocal about how much better he was feeling. The sounds affected Dwight in several ways. First and foremost, all that moaning turned him on so much that the race of his heart in his ears very nearly covered up the sound of Kenneth peeing. Second, and much less pleasantly, all that hissing and trickling made his own bladder thrash and ache and BEG its owner so, so loudly for relief. Dwight blushed at the lewd direction of his thoughts, then crossed his legs and let them bounce. He wished he could just hear Kenneth moan and gasp like that WITHOUT a noisy spray of pee underscoring it and making him really, really need the toilet. He’d gotten to experience that for a little while last night, but then Bryce had gone and ruined it. 

Speaking of Bryce going and ruining things, the door to their room cracked open, and there Bryce was. “Paulson, are your hands doing bett— Uhhhhhh….” Bryce froze, standing like a shocked statue in the doorway as he stared straight ahead, straight through the open restroom door, straight at Kenneth still pissing like hadn’t gone in days. 

Kenneth jumped, startled out of his mind. A spurt of pee hit the rim of the bowl and then his bladder locked up tighter than a maximum security prison; Nothing else was getting out of there any time soon. The most awful feeling slammed into him then, a sharp, horrific jab against his pee-hole, like he was being pinched in what was literally the most sensitive part of his body. Kenneth’s heart thumped away, his pulse raced, his lungs tightened and felt like they were going to break.

The door to their room had been unlocked all night. 

Dwight had forgotten to lock it again after Bryce had left, and THEN he’d crawled into Kenneth’s bed, and they’d cuddled there all night long. 

With the door unlocked. 

Someone could have come in at any time. 

Someone could have seen. 

Kenneth stood at the toilet a few moments longer, struggling to get the rest of his urine to flow, but it just wouldn’t. It couldn’t. The pressure at his opening was immense, his sphincters in agony at having their relaxation time cut short with no warning. Defeated, he put his dick back away and spun around. “Bryce…” he said. “Ha—Haven’t you ever heard of knocking, you complete and utter… Um… Emperor of the Dunces?” he settled on. His brain was firing on all cylinders, but not on one that allowed him to think of good insults. 

“I don’t have to,” Bryce said. “I have the right to go where I please, you moronic little dick-pastry.” He smiled. If Kenneth was insulting him, that meant he was feeling better and hadn’t injured his hands too badly after all! “Your hands are perfectly fine now, I trust?” 

“Y—Yes,” Kenneth stammered, rocking from foot to foot. It somehow felt like he was more desperate to go than he’d been at any other point this morning! “Please leave,” he added sharply. 

Bryce watched Kenneth’s little dance, “I thought you just went…” he said with a chuckle. 

“I couldn’t finish!” Kenneth spat out hurriedly. “You startled me, and I stopped, and I still have to go, so leave!” 

Bryce winced at Kenneth’s words. He’d been interrupted mid-flow before too, and it was one of the most painful feelings— It didn’t even hurt in a GOOD way, either. “I… I apologize, Paulson,” he said. “You may continue…” And then he left. 

Immediately, Kenneth lowered his pajama bottoms again and aimed, eager to finish what he’d started… But, it wouldn’t come out… “Mmmf…” he whimpered, rubbing below his navel. He knew what relief felt like from before… He wanted that back NOW! But, all he could think about were all the stupid risks he and Dwight kept taking, all the dumb mistakes they kept making, how they were GOING to be found out at this rate and someone was going to hurt them… “D—Dwight…” he whined. 

Dwight stood and came closer, “What’s the matter?” he asked. 

“I can't get it working again…” Kenneth groaned, bouncing up and down with equal parts frustration and desperation. Anger was flooding his veins. He was in HIS room, at HIS toilet, where he was supposed to ALWAYS be able to pee! He’d BEEN peeing, even! He couldn’t believe he was so locked up again… “Please, help me? Please?" 

Dwight’s chest clenched. Why was Kenneth having so much trouble all of the sudden? He was in his safe place, and yeah, Bryce had startled him, but he’d been getting pretty okay with having Bryce around while he went lately… 

Dwight’s own bladder was cramping and lurching at the sight of the toilet, he too wished Kenneth had been able to finish up already. But, his own need had to take a backseat for now. Kenneth was tearing up, had come close to sort of BEGGING him for what he needed… Dwight took Kenneth into his arms and rubbed tender circles into his back, “You’re alright…” he soothed. “Just us… It’s just us… You and me… You’re safe… Just the two of us…” 

Kenneth let Dwight’s words and gentle touches wash over him, his body going loose and happy until he felt his pee right at his tip, just about to break free— 

But, then he had a thought. 

A terrible, awful, horrible thought that made everything just stop. 

Dwight holding him, caressing him and whispering sweetly into his ear… Dwight doing those things while he had his cock out… People had some idea that Dwight did this for him, people had seen them go to the restroom together before. So, people probably knew that Dwight basically snuggled him while he had his dick in his hands, knew that Dwight did this thing with him that was so deeply personal and intimate in every way… 

This was something that could make it easier for someone to… Figure it out, wasn’t it? 

All of the relaxation that Dwight had managed to bestow upon him vanished, Kenneth grew tenser and tenser, his bladder becoming more and more stubborn and anxious. 

Several minutes passed, and Dwight felt his concern build, as well as his own desperation. But, the pressure pounding against his pee-hole was nothing compared to the fear in his heart. Why… Why wasn’t this working?! This ALWAYS worked! ALWAYS. And it NEVER took this long if they were truly alone like this. “Kenneth… Shhhhh….” Dwight whispered gently, his voice wavering with unspoken panic. “Shhh… Shhhh…Shhh…” he repeated, doing his best to mimic the sound of a stream and ignoring the way it made his own bladder tremble. 

Still nothing. 

Dwight reached and flicked on the sink before placing his hand against Kenneth’s back once more. “You’re okay, Kenneth…” he repeated over and over, but his friend just continued to shake and twitch… And hold it… 

“I—It’s not working…” Kenneth finally gave voice to the panicked litany in Dwight’s brain. 

“Kenneth, what’s… What’s wrong, darling?” Dwight asked. 

Instead of calming him, the sweet term only made Kenneth feel more scared. He wanted to scream it to Dwight, wanted to shout “People are going to find out everything just because of THIS!”, wanted to tell his friend how scared he felt inside… But the words were lost to him, caught behind his clenched teeth, and finally he managed to hiss out a pained “I don’t know… It’s just not working.” 

Dwight took a few shaky steps back. Again, the sound of his heart in his ears overpowered all over stimuli, but now it was terror causing it instead of arousal. This was supposed to work. This ALWAYS worked! If… If this didn’t work, then… 

It was getting worse again. 

The awful monster inside Kenneth’s brain and body, the one that Dwight had worked so hard to exorcise from him for years, was only becoming more powerful and controlling. It was so strong now that Dwight could no longer subdue it, much less finally defeat it for good… He felt a terrible hollowness within himself, the same one he’d felt in his dream the night before. The horrible emptiness, the sensation that he was lacking something very important. 

He couldn’t help his friend anymore. He wasn’t what Kenneth needed anymore… 

But, even if that was the case, Kenneth still needed help here. He couldn’t hold it forever, his pee had to come out… “I’ll… I’ll go get Bryce!” Dwight decided. “He can try it instead, okay?” 

Kenneth shook his head back and forth rapidly. ‘No, don’t get Bryce!’ he wanted to yell. ‘Bryce is so close to figuring IT out! Don’t bring him here!’ 

“N—No Bryce?” Dwight asked. “O…Okay, um…” He stomped his feet against the ground. This would be so much easier to figure out if he could think clearly! His brain was mush right now, chaotic, simmering mush. He was so scared, so upset, and he needed to use the toilet very badly! None of those things were very conductive to thinking. He wished he could just shove Kenneth aside, tear his cock free of his boxers and let it flow so he could solve at least one of his problems. 

But, he didn’t dare release a stream when his poor friend was suffering. That wouldn’t help Kenneth at all. That would make him tear up, make him cry out “That’s so unfair! Don’t do that in front of me now!” So, as much as Dwight’s bladder was pleading with him for relief, he was not about to give it any. 

“O—Okay,” Dwight repeated. “Elizabeth,” he said. “Um…” He knew exactly what he wanted to tell Kenneth. In the back of his mind, he’d always been preparing for the possibility of this day; The day where he… Wouldn’t be able to make Kenneth better anymore. A day where Kenneth would need something more serious. He’d always done his best to push the idea of this day out of his brain, to convince himself it would never truly come… But, it had, and now that it had, it was so hard to make himself say the words.

“Uh… If you really, really can’t go… If… If nothing works anymore…” Dwight sucked in a deep breath, the action making his bladder contract hard, but he didn’t care. Kenneth needed him more than HE needed a pee. “If… I can’t help you now…” he felt like he was drowning, like he was choking. He could hardly take in enough air. He wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t make Kenneth better… “There is a way for you to… To get your bladder emptied. I… Need to take you to the medical building, and…” he put a hand against his forehead. He felt so clammy, feverish. He had the image in his mind now, the image of the thing he’d always wanted so much to save Kenneth from… “And… They’re going to… Insert something into you. Into your… Up through where the pee comes out, into your bladder, and that’s going to… To take it out for you” 

Kenneth, for the first time in minutes, went still. “Wh—What?” 

Dwight pulled him close once more, held him firmly. “I’m so sorry…” he said. “I tried my best, I never wanted it to come to this… I’ve… asked about it, Elizabeth’s promised it won’t hurt you.” He didn’t see how that would possible, however. He’d seen the device. A sharp looking thing was about to be inserted into his friend’s penis, no way was that going to feel alright… At the least, Kenneth was going to be terrified through the whole thing. Dwight was going to squeeze his hand, of course, but that was only going to help so much… 

“Nah—No,” Kenneth said, and he was using his ‘powerful’ voice, the one he used when he wanted everyone around him to understand that his whims were of the utmost importance and his every wish was to be obeyed. “No. That is not happening. No.” 

“Kenneth…” Dwight said. “If I can’t… If nothing works anymore, you need medical intervention. You—“ Dwight stopped abruptly because he’d realized Kenneth was crying. “Hey… Don’t cry… Don’t cry… It’s—“ 

“I hate myself!” 

“No—“ 

“I— I’m going to have something shoved up my freaking DICK because I can’t figure out how to freaking PISS!” Kenneth exclaimed. “I— I… I’m so broken, Dwight. I’m so pathetic, I’m so—“ 

“You are not,” Dwight said, tightening his embrace. “You have a medical problem, so we’re going to get you taken care of. That’s all, that’s—“ 

Kenneth sniffed hard, “I— I don’t want people to find out…” 

“Elizabeth won’t tell anybody unless she HAS to, and I won’t say—“ 

“N—Not about that,” Kenneth said. “About… You holding me and making me go, I’m scared people will figure out the rest because of that…” 

Some of the clouds in Dwight’s vision began to fade away, giving way to bright, sunny clarity. Was that what was making Kenneth so intensely nervous today? “Kenneth… Bryce does this for you too, doesn’t he?” 

“Y—Yeah… Sometimes.” 

“And, you don’t do ANY of the ‘other stuff’ with Bryce,” Dwight said. “Nobody THINKS you do any of the ‘other stuff’ with Bryce. So, why would they think that about me just because of this?” 

Kenneth’s shaking started to subside, “Y—You don’t think they will?” he asked timidly. 

“I don’t think so,” Dwight promised. “Most people who see us duck behind trees together, or go to the restroom at the same time… You really think their first thought is that I’m going to rub you and hold you while you go, and then they’ll jump straight from that to everything else?” 

Hearing it out loud like that, it did sound pretty far-fetched. “I— I guess not…” 

“I know not,” Dwight said gently. “This is just our own little, private thing. Just for us…” he started to stroke Kenneth’s back again. “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re always safe when I’m here… Let it out now, okay? Can you do that for me? Please, Kenneth? I want you to go pee for me now, okay?” 

At those words, Kenneth’s bladder finally relaxed again, his stream spraying as ferociously as it had done earlier. “Ahhhh….” he moaned once more. “Finallyyyy…” 

Dwight released some of the air from his lungs, relief flowing over him… And out of him! His own bladder had sprung a leak and he clutched his cock firmly in his hand. “Uh—Um, Kenneth? C—Could you move over a little, please!?” 

Kenneth did as requested and Dwight yanked his boxers down, allowing them to pool around his feet as he let it all flow. “Mmmmm….” he hummed. “That’s better…” Kenneth turned his head slightly to look at his friend’s now nude body. He hadn’t thought about it before, but Dwight had… Well, a very nice looking ass… Kenneth had never thought he’d enjoy looking at a person’s ass, especially not THIS much… His eyes flicked over to Dwight’s cock, and he couldn’t decide which attribute of his friend he liked better. Even now, with his dick spraying out a hearty stream of urine, Kenneth was very pleased by the view.

Kenneth was finally empty, but he stayed standing there, which perhaps made his peeking a little TOO obvious to Dwight, whom smiled at him. “Heh, you like what you see?” he teased. 

“Y—Yes…” Kenneth admitted. 

After they’d both finished, Kenneth walked back out to change. Only then did he finally notice the damp spot in Dwight’s bed. “Dwight… Um… Is THAT why you slept with me last night?” he asked. 

“Y—Yeah,” Dwight admitted, embarrassed. “I’ll get new sheets and stuff… It won’t happen again.”

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Wetting the bed for the first time in years must have flipped some kind of switch in Dwight’s body, because it happened yet again the very next night. He’d done all the right things that time, too. He’d peed before heading to sleep, and hadn’t drank much before bed… Still, he’d found himself dreaming about needing the restroom very badly and just barely making it, then he woke up damp. 

The next several nights were dry, and then the worst thing imaginable happened; Dwight peed the bed when Kenneth was sleeping next to him. Kenneth had even been the first to wake up, fidgeting at the unpleasant sensation of cold, damp liquid coating his backside. When it registered what had happened, he’d yelped.

Dwight had apologized to him over and over again, and hoped it wouldn’t make Kenneth want to stop sharing the bed with him. He could tell Kenneth was trying very hard not to yell at him, not to say “Dwight, this is vile!” and make him feel ashamed. 

“I—It’s okay…” Kenneth had managed. “We can just change and go back to sleep…” 

Kenneth had even made it a point to cuddle as close to Dwight as he could for the rest of the night to make up for the revolted expression he was sure had been on his face. Then, the next night, Kenneth had agreed to sleep with him again with no hesitation. It really WAS okay. 

Dwight stayed dry that night. And the night after that. But, then, he had a major accident, one that drenched him, Kenneth, the sheets, and the mattress. 

Exhausted, Kenneth sat up, trying not to let the disgust show on his face as he felt his boxers clinging to him… He hated himself for thinking it, but if he HAD to be soaked in urine right now, he really wished it could have been his own and not someone else’s. “Dwight… Why is this happening so much now?” 

“I don’t know…” Dwight mumbled, feeling horribly ashamed. “I… I didn’t do it since I was a little, and now suddenly—“ 

“What time do you stop drinking each day?” Kenneth asked. 

“Well… The hydration regimen we have to do,” Dwight reminded. “I have to stick to that, so I can’t stop drinking before six…” 

Six should have left plenty of time for Dwight’s body to process all of his water, though… 

“IS that when you stop?” 

“Ever since this started getting bad, yes,” Dwight said. “And I’m so thirsty when I’m trying to go to sleep…” 

“And, you have been peeing right before bed,” Kenneth said. “So, that’s not it… Are you having bad dreams?” 

“No,” Dwight shook his head. “The first time it happened, I dreamed about a memory from when I was little. But, every time after that it’s just been you and me out somewhere, and I have to go very badly and find somewhere to do it right at the last second.” 

“Oh…” Kenneth said. He’d certainly had dreams of that nature before. In his case, they usually involved him being filled to the brim and unable to find even the tiniest bit of privacy to relieve himself in. He typically woke up and rushed to the real toilet before his dream decided to provide him with one itself. “Well… How about this; When you’re about to pee, try and make sure you’re not dreaming?” 

“How do I—“ 

“Pinch yourself,” Kenneth suggested. “Or… I don’t know, look around and think about if something is weird or out of place. Just, some indication that you’re asleep.” 

“I… Guess,” Dwight said.

And the two changed their clothes and went back to bed. 

*** 

Even though Dwight had completely soaked the bed last night, when morning came he was aching for the restroom. He glanced towards the door and saw it was shut… He was going to have to wait. 

Inside the restroom, Kenneth was finishing his morning piss and mulling over Dwight’s problem. Kenneth didn’t feel he was doing such a great job supporting his friend through this. He’d been cringing, groaning and wrinkling up his nose every single time Dwight accidentally got him wet. He was trying very hard not to let it show how disgusting it made him feel to be covered in someone else’s urine, but Kenneth was never very skilled at covering up his true feelings on much of anything. 

The last thing Kenneth ever wanted was for Dwight to think he was disgusted by HIM. Because he really wasn’t! Dwight was not doing this on purpose, Dwight was even more upset by it every time it happened than Kenneth was… 

… Probably because he thought Kenneth was repulsed by him. 

Kenneth had seen the sadness on Dwight’s face last night when Kenneth had winced upon accidentally putting his hand in the puddle on the bed. Dwight definitely thought it was HIM Kenneth was grossed out by, and not just the acrid smell of his accident… 

Kenneth’s reactions were making Dwight feel awful, they were making him feel even more awful than the accidents would have made him feel on their own. 

Kenneth just needed to think of a way to let Dwight know that he DIDN’T think he was gross, some way to reassure him everything was still okay, even if he did have a wet bed some nights. 

*** 

Dwight paced back and forth outside the restroom, wondering what was taking Kenneth so long. He’d heard the toilet flush ages ago, he knew the other was no longer urinating. Dwight was beginning to grow impatient, and his bladder was even more fed up with waiting than he was! 

Dwight tried to distract himself as more and more time passed and the door stayed shut. He was pretty stuck on the previous night’s embarrassment, however. The shame at how childish it all was stuck like a thick paste to his brain. 

At least, if this had to be happening, it was Kenneth that he was sharing a room with. He and Kenneth really were lucky they had been assigned a room together. They’d been warned ahead of time that this was done at random and they could have ended up with anyone, but they’d gotten each other and couldn’t have been happier. 

If Kenneth had been assigned a different partner, Dwight was sure he would have found whoever it was irritating for one reason or another; Mostly just because they’d committed the unforgivable sin of NOT being Dwight. Not to mention, if Kenneth was sharing this room with someone else, he’d probably be limited to only emptying his bladder once that person was asleep, necessitating him holding for even more extreme lengths of time than he did now. 

If Dwight had been assigned a different partner, he would probably barely talk to them. Kenneth was more interesting to talk to. He could talk to Kenneth for hours about nothing at all and never get bored. Conversing with other people grew tedious fast, and he never stopped thinking ‘Oh, if Kenneth was here, HE would have said THIS…’ 

If Dwight had been assigned a different partner, then when he’d started to have these new nighttime… ‘issues’, he was sure that other person would have made fun of him or found him repulsive and childish. But, Kenneth didn’t do those things. Kenneth had kept telling him it was okay, and had even given him that great suggestion to help make it stop. 

Kenneth didn’t mock him for his problem, and didn’t think he was gross, and so long as Dwight always made sure he was awake before he peed, this problem should go away in no time at all! 

Speaking of peeing, the door was finally opening, and— 

Kenneth was… 

God… 

He’d put his uniform on… Sort of. The shirt was unbuttoned, giving Dwight a very nice view of his chest, and his pants were unzipped exposing his pubic hair and the topmost part of his shaft… 

Well then. 

Dwight squeezed his thighs together at another pang from his bladder. He wasn’t going to be emptying it any time soon; He was still asleep! 

“Kenneth—“ 

Kenneth walked up to Dwight and trailed a finger lightly down his chest. He was blushing all the way up to his ears. “The door is locked…” he said. “We have some spare time before we have to leave…” 

Dwight couldn’t remember any of his other bathroom emergency dreams incorporating these sorts of elements— And this very much still WAS a bathroom emergency dream! As Kenneth had been rubbing his chest, Dwight had been swaying from side to side while his bladder sent him several urgent signals; ‘Play with Kenneth after! Use the toilet now! It’s right there!’ 

Dwight couldn’t use the toilet, though. If he did, he’d wake up with wet sheets yet again. 

Besides, now Kenneth had grabbed him and was shoving him against the wall, pinning him there. Kenneth leaned in and connected their lips, flicking his tongue into Dwight’s mouth. 

Even though he really had to pee, Dwight was starting to think that he liked this dream. He’d tell Kenneth about it after he'd managed to wake up… He was going to blush so much, it was going to be adorable! 

Kenneth stuck his leg in between Dwight’s and parted them, deepening the kiss. Dwight moaned into Kenneth’s mouth, scorching heat traveling all through his body. He leaned against Kenneth’s leg, at first purely out of lust and then because he discovered how much the extra pressure helped out his still worsening bladder situation. 

Kenneth finally drew back after several minutes, giving Dwight one last kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” he said. “Don’t you ever think that I don’t.” 

Kenneth finished buttoning his shirt and zipping his pants. Dwight was disappointed to have it ending so quickly, but knew that if that had gone on much longer, he would have woken up with wet sheets even if he DIDN’T let go of his bladder! 

Dwight got dressed as well, turning to look at the toilet. His bladder convulsed. He so rarely left the barrack without allowing it to release first. It was confused why that wasn’t happening now. He shuffled from foot to foot, thinking about how nice it would feel to empty out… 

He remembered the other thing Kenneth had suggested, and reached to pinch himself on the arm lightly. Parts of this dream had been very, very nice, but he really needed to go and had to wake up now! 

He didn’t wake up… 

So, then did that mean this WASN’T a dream? 

No, it had to be. Kenneth didn’t flirt. He blushed and stammered and said “Y—Yes, I would like to do something with you,” whenever Dwight flirted with HIM. 

“Think about if something is weird or out of place,” was what Kenneth had told him. And, Kenneth FLIRTING with him was VERY weird and out of place! 

This definitely was a dream, so he just had to keep holding it. He’d wake up eventually, and then he’d get all the relief he needed. 

A little while later as he stood at his post, Dwight felt like he needed all of the relief in the world. He was shuffling his feet and twisting his hips, his toes were curling up with tension inside his boots. He couldn’t stop tugging on his belt, trying in vain to get it to rest somewhere other than atop his aching bladder. 

Bryce was supervising him, as usual, and noticed his squirming right away. Dwight felt himself blush every time Bryce stared at his crossed legs and tense shoulders. Even if this was a dream, the embarrassment of doing such an obvious pee-dance felt as real as could be. 

Dwight couldn’t believe he was having such a hard time waking up! He didn’t think he’d ever had to go THIS badly during a dream before! In all of his pee-themed dreams, he’d been bursting within an inch of his life, but this time it was starting to actually hurt! His opening was stinging and his bladder was boiling, and the pressure inside him was beginning to encompass his entire lower half. 

This dream was being SO mean, too! Bryce kept opening up his canteen and noisily swallowing gulps of water from it. Each time Bryce did that, Dwight’s thighs would clench even tighter. Plus, Dwight had relieved himself right here at his post loads and loads of times before, he wouldn’t be surprised if the grass in this spot got ‘watered’ more by him than by anything else. Whenever he was told he had to stand here, he’d turn around, unzip and release several times during the course of the day. 

His bladder was so perplexed. ‘You pee here ALL the time!’ it seemed to whine. ‘You’re allowed to go right now! Please, just do it?’ But, Dwight had to hold it. He wasn’t REALLY at his post right now, after all. He was in bed. 

‘Pleaaaase wake up,’ Dwight silently begged himself. ‘I’m gonna burst…’ Again, he tried pinching himself, but again he just couldn’t seem to do it hard enough! 

Or, maybe it wasn’t really a dream? 

Dwight considered that. Ever since the thing this morning with Kenneth being overly flirtatious, everything else had been perfectly normal. Everything in his surroundings looked the same as it had every day. Bryce had greeted him with an “Alright, now stand there and be quiet, moron…” just like always. The warmth of the sun on his face felt real, the feeling of his belt squeezing the life out of his bloated bladder felt even realer than that… 

Maybe Kenneth had just had a reason for being so unusually forthcoming today? 

As he thought about it, Dwight started to hold himself tightly with both hands, whimpering as he fought to quell the still growing need within. And, a moment after he started doing that, he received an indication that he was indeed in a dream, just one that was doing its best to seem as real as possible so that it could trick him! 

Because, the REAL Bryce would never have such a concerned, caring look on his face! The REAL Bryce would never look at him as he squirmed around and wrinkle his brow in such a worried way. The REAL Bryce would absolutely never EVER say something like, “Um… Smith. I… I know I always give you shit for pissing out here all the time, but you understand I’m just teasing, right? I don’t actually care if you do that, it’s not a big deal. You can go if you need to.” 

This was a dream, Dwight was sure of it. There was no other explanation. Kenneth was not flirty and open. Bryce was not kind and compassionate. And, therefor, Dwight was NOT awake. 

“I’m fine,” Dwight told Bryce. “I can wait.” 

Bryce gave him an odd look. “Smith, seriously, I don’t care if you pee in the grass.” Bryce had always thought Dwight was an odd fellow— He was glued to Kenneth of ALL people 24/7 and ate cupcakes with black olives on them, for God’s sake— but THIS was something he couldn’t grasp at all. He knew Dwight HATED holding his bladder for any real length of time, he always bitched and moaned and whined up a storm whenever he was made to wait, he could think of no reason that Dwight would CHOOSE to restrain himself when he didn’t have to. 

He also knew Dwight was the furthest thing from being pee shy. Dwight didn’t care one bit if someone was nearby while he urinated. Dwight was even fine with carrying on a conversation while he went. He didn’t even really mind it if someone stared and watched— Which had happened a few times since he’d chosen to relieve himself in very inappropriate places on more than one occasion. 

About the only time Dwight WILLINGLY held his bladder was out of solidarity with Kenneth. If they were both bursting and Kenneth was in a place that he couldn’t empty his bladder, then Dwight would make himself wait alongside him— He thought it would just be cruel to go when his friend had to keep suffering. 

Was something like that happening now? Had Kenneth not been able to go this morning for some reason? “Is… Is Paulson okay?” Bryce asked. 

And THAT was just more proof that Dwight was dreaming! Bryce was being nice to him AND to Kenneth when he had no reason to be? That wasn’t possible within the realm of reality. “H—He’s fine,” Dwight said. 

“He’s not…” Bryce struggled to come up with the right way to phrase his question. “Was… Was he able to ‘go’ this morning?” 

Of course Bryce was asking about that! Dwight was stuck in a dream that was trying as hard as it could to make him pee his bed, after all! Of course it would make the people he encountered talk to him about urinating! Of course it would! “Y—Yes,” Dwight said. “He went after he got up, just like always.” 

So, that WASN’T the problem, then? Bryce couldn’t think of anything else it COULD be! Was Dwight just randomly feeling a little shy himself all of the sudden? That… Didn’t make very much sense considering how, as far as Bryce knew, Dwight’s bladder had never had even the tiniest bout of stage fright before… “Um… If you want me to turn around, I can do that for you,” Bryce said. It felt very strange to be making such an offer to Dwight, someone whom had whipped it out and begun voiding his bladder right in front of him with almost zero warning so many times before. 

Dwight shook his head. Wow, this dream was really pulling out all the stops! “That’s okay, Bryce. You don’t have to. I can hold it.” 

Bryce kept staring at him. Dwight’s legs were wrapped around each other in such a horrendously tight knot, it actually kind of shocked Bryce that human limbs could bend that way at all! One of Dwight’s hands was gripping his dick so firmly that it made Bryce wince, and his other hand was frantically pulling on his belt, all while he jiggled up and down. ‘Holding it’ did not appear to be something Dwight was capable of at the moment. “Dwight, I would really prefer it if you didn’t urinate in your uniform today. What the Hell are you doing?” 

Well… Now he sounded a little more like the real Bryce… Probably just the dream trying to ease him back into a false sense of security! 

“Nothing,” Dwight insisted. “I just… Don’t have to go that bad right now. I can hold it.” 

Bryce’s eyes narrowed to slits as he gazed at all the twisting and shaking Dwight was doing. “Really.” 

“Y—Yes,” Dwight said. He could hold it, because he HAD to hold it, because he did NOT want to pee his bed again! He just… SO wished that he could wake the Hell up! His bladder felt like it was being scrunched up in a gorilla’s fist! The pressure was so immense that he could barely keep himself upright. He kept feeling on the verge of collapsing to his knees, unleashing his typhoon as he fell! “Ohhh…” he moaned softly. “Gotta goooo…” 

“Then go!” Bryce said. “Jeez, what’s the matter with you?!” He ran a hand through his curly hair, agitated. At least, when Kenneth was squirming with obvious need and refused to just take a freaking piss, Bryce could be reasonably certain of what was going through the guy’s head, but this… Dwight wasn’t feeling shy, he wasn’t making himself hold it for Kenneth’s sake, he… Bryce’s eyes widened once more and his face flushed. 

‘Maybe he is… Erm… Hurt "down there"? Urinating is causing him pain, so he is trying not to do it? Is that it?’ Bryce wondered. “Dwight… Uh…” He never liked asking after his subordinates health, especially not when it involved THOSE parts… “Is the problem… Does it hurt you to go right now? Is that why you don’t want to?”

Dwight shook his head. It didn’t hurt him to pee at all! It felt really good to pee! It WOULD feel really, REALLY good to pee right now, and he just wished that he could do it! As if to confirm with him that urinating was absolutely not painful, his bladder suffered a wicked, awful spasm and the first spurt of his ocean trickled warmly between his legs. “Ah—!” he gasped, doubling over even more, clutching and squeezing with all his might. 

Bryce sighed. “I— I know it’s SUPER embarrassing to have a problem… ‘there’, but if you need medical attention—“ 

“That’s— No, I’m fine!” Dwight repeated, each insistence sounded more ridiculous than the last as his body shook and shivered with more and more involuntary contortions. 

Bryce wanted to run to the nearest tree and begin bashing his head against it. “Okay!” he snapped. “Is… Is this some kind of ridiculous bet you’ve made with Kenneth, then? You want to see if you can hold it as long as he can?” 

Dwight, again, shook his head. He would never do something so stupid, that was something Bryce would do! Dwight only ever held it when he HAD to hold it! Like now, when he knew that letting it out would grant him a sopping wet bed! 

“Well… It is time for your mid-day break, anyway,” Bryce said finally. “You may go ANYWHERE you want now. And, I HOPE you choose to visit a restroom during that time.” 

Dwight nodded, his brain unwillingly filling itself with a list of all the places he could go to take a leak right now. He could go back to the barrack if he wanted a lot of peace and quiet while he went… He could use one of the restrooms scattered throughout the area, one of them surely had an available toilet or urinal for him to use… He could go on one of the trees, or behind a bush… He could just go RIGHT where he was standing too, even! 

But, he knew the reality was that he couldn’t go in ANY of those places. Not until after he’d woken up! 

He… WAS asleep, wasn’t he? Bryce had stopped with all his uncharacteristic niceness after a while as he’d grown more irritated. And, in dreams, time usually moved a LOT faster, but his break didn’t feel like it had come any earlier than it was supposed to. Except… Time ALWAYS felt like it moved really slow when he had to use the restroom urgently.

It was very, very hard for him to walk now. Every step made a scorching sting ripple through his urethra, like it was being lit ablaze by the pressure knocking against it. As he walked, his hands stayed glued against his cock. Some of the guards he passed were staring at his obvious show of desperation, but he didn’t care. This was just a dream, and so he wasn’t embarrassing himself for real. 

One guard he didn’t recognize even approached him. “Um… Hello,” he said awkwardly. “Were you just transferred here? Did no one tell you where the restrooms are?” 

Dwight shook his head. “I… Um… I know, I was just heading there,” he lied. If he saw a toilet right now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using it, and then it would be all over. 

“Okay…” the other guard said as Dwight kept walking. 

Dwight had to find Kenneth, he decided. Kenneth would make him wake up somehow! Kenneth’s break time came around now too, he thought. And, when Kenneth got a break, the very first thing he always did was rush back to the barrack and relieve his bladder. Dwight turned and headed in that direction, hoping that his dream wouldn’t subject him to a vision of Kenneth urinating when he got there. If he had to see Kenneth go, had to hear him moaning as it poured out of him even just in a dream, he’d explode. 
Dwight trudged and trudged along, seconds stretching into minutes, minutes into hours, and then when he neared the barrack, he saw his friend. He picked up the pace and hurried over to him. Kenneth removed the hand he’d been chewing on from his mouth, indicating to Dwight that he really DID have to get back to their room soon! 

Dwight felt bad for keeping Kenneth from the toilet, even if THIS Kenneth was just a product of his imagination. 

Kenneth was staring at Dwight now, eyes locked onto his friend’s blatant, intense pee-dance. “D—Did they make a new rule that you’re not allowed to go at your post anymore?” he guessed. 

“No,” Dwight said. “Kenneth, I need you to wake me up!” 

Kenneth shifted his weight around. His morning pee felt like it had been way, WAY too long ago right now, and he did NOT have the time to try and make sense of whatever the heck Dwight had just said. “Um… I really have to—“ 

“I know,” Dwight interrupted. “I do too! I’ve got to pee SO badly right now, Kenneth! I can’t hold it!” 

Kenneth hunched his shoulders and returned his pinky to his mouth, chewing away on it as his face became engulfed in flames. “M—Must you be so loud?” he asked. Several of their fellow guards were also on their breaks right now, many of them walking nearby and hearing Dwight whine about his exploding bladder, inadvertently drawing attention to BOTH of their needs. “W—We can go back to our room, okay? Yes. Going back to our room would be good right now…” in agreement, his bladder sent him a particularly hot, sharp twinge and he jumped on his heels. He lowered his voice even more, “We can go together, alright? Dwight, please? You know I’ve been… Waiting a long while, I—“ 

“I can’t go!” Dwight complained loudly. 

“Wha— Why not?” Kenneth asked, suddenly concerned. “You are not having my… proble—“ 

“No,” Dwight said. “I can’t go, because I know this is a dream! If I pee, I’ll wet the bed!” 

Kenneth plucked the hand from his mouth and fluttered it uselessly around his waist as he rocked from side to side. He wanted to grab himself really, really bad, and he needed the toilet NOW, and Dwight wasn’t making any sense! “Dwight, maybe don’t talk so loud about bed wetting? There are people…” 

“They’re not real, though. This is a dream.” 

“Oh my God—“ Kenneth groaned, his hand quickly pressing itself between his legs for a brief second before he forced it away again. “Dwight, look. I am… Exploding right now, okay? Whatever you are talking about, can it please wait?” 

“N—No,” Dwight said. It couldn’t wait! NOTHING could wait anymore! If Dwight didn’t wake the Hell up and PEE soon, he thought he’d die! His heart was slamming around inside his ribcage, filled with so much panic that he could NOT understand why that alone hadn’t woken him! “Kenneth, please?” he begged. “Please, wake me up? Please? I need to pee, I need to pee so much!” 

“So do I!” Kenneth hissed sharply. “You are not asleep, you idiot! You are awake! If this was a dream, I wouldn’t really BE here and that would mean I wouldn’t be able to FEEL the freaking LAKE inside of me right now!” 

“I— I know I’m asleep,” Dwight said. “This has to be a dream.” 

“WHY do you think you are dreaming?” 

“B—Because of this morning!” Dwight said. “When you had your shirt all undone and started to kis—“ 

“OH MY GOD!” Kenneth’s voice finally raised itself above a whisper as, in a total panic, he pressed a hand over Dwight’s mouth. “Shhhh!” The sheer fear in Kenneth’s chest managed to overpower even the pressure inside his bladder. His voice fell several octaves, until he was speaking so quietly that Dwight could barely hear. “Are you a moron? Someone could hear you!” 

Shakily, he released his hand from Dwight’s mouth, grabbed one of his arms in a vice grip, and tugged him inside the barrack. Once in their room, Kenneth lost it. Everything was forgotten now, Dwight’s apparent belief that he was stuck in a dream, Dwight’s bladder emergency, Hell, even his OWN need for the toilet. All of it was gone, replaced by nerves. “What were you THINKING?” he demanded. “Talking about THAT where ANYONE could hear you!?” 

“But—“ 

“Dwight, we can NOT let anyone find out,” Kenneth said. 

“I know, but—“ 

“So, why in the HELL would you mention THIS morning while we are OUTSIDE?” 

“I…” Dwight sunk his teeth into his lip. He felt warmth collecting against his palms. He’d been steadily leaking small drops of urine ever since Kenneth had slapped his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t make them stop coming out. His bladder was full. Completely. No room left inside it at all. 

And he was starting to think he wasn’t actually dreaming. 

And, instead of feeling relieved, he felt terrible. He’d very nearly done something that he wouldn’t be able to fix, something that he wouldn’t be able to take back. “I just… I thought this was a dream. B—Because, when you did all that, when you showed so much skin for me and kissed me like that… I thought… I thought that was just too good to be true.” 

Some of Kenneth’s anger dissipated. “Dwight… Uh… Do you… Dream about me doing those things often?” 

Dwight nodded. “All of the time. Those are my favorite dreams. And, you DON’T act all open and amorous like that in real life. Ever. So…” 

“… Oh,” Kenneth said. “So, because of that, you thought you shouldn’t… Have you gone at all today?” 

Dwight shook his head. “I didn’t go this morning, and I didn’t go at my post, and so now I have to go really, really bad!” 

“Well, you can go now,” Kenneth said. “Please? I really need need it too, remember?” 

“O—Okay,” Dwight said, finally unclasping the belt that had been driving him crazy all day. “You want to go together?” 

“I think we have to,” Kenneth said. “And, it’s fine. It’s just you.” 

Kenneth checked that the door to their room was locked, and the two headed into the restroom. Dwight got himself out first, immediately releasing his poor, tortured bladder. His dripping transformed into spraying, and it felt wonderful. The spontaneous drop in pressure he felt take place within his body made him shiver with pleasure as a slow exhale breezed out of his nose. 

“Nnnh,” Kenneth whimpered at the hiss of Dwight’s stream, still fighting with his own buttons. Once they were out of the way and his zipper had come down, he joined his friend and let go of his stream. “Ahhhh….” he smiled contentedly as it poured out of him. After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, his eyes slid over to Dwight, “You know, you really are a moron sometimes,” he said. 

“I… I know,” Dwight said. He felt like an idiot. After pinching himself so many times and still not waking up, he really ought to have taken the hint… But, even though he felt like an idiot, in this moment he felt like an INCREDIBLY relieved one. All the throbbing that had been pounding at his opening now felt pleasant as buckets of pee were dumped through it. 

“But…” Kenneth paused as a shiver ripped up and down his spine. “Ahhh… But, I am so happy that you are MY moron,” he said. “If… If anything had to trick you into thinking you were asleep. I’m glad it was… You know. That.” 

For the first time in their lives, in spite of starting his stream second, Kenneth actually finished first. This was a massive surprise to him, and it made his chest clench as he imagined how desperate Dwight must have been feeling if he was able to pee for longer than him for once. “Wow…” he said as he zipped up. “You had to go…” 

Dwight was usually the one stunned by the capacity of Kenneth’s bladder and, in a weird way, it made him feel good that Kenneth was impressed by his own today. “I barely made it. I mean, I went a lot in my pants,” he admitted. 

“That’s okay, you can change if you have to,” Kenneth said. 

Dwight finally finished and zipped up. “Ah! MUCH better!” he said. 

Kenneth laughed slightly, “I hope so…” He looked down at his feet. “Erm… We have some more time left in our break… Uh… Can you tell me some other stuff you have dreams about me doing?”

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  • 2 weeks later...

This one gets pretty dark. Warnings for abuse and self harm.

*** 

Kenneth had been pounding his fists against the door for the past thirty minutes to no avail. Even as his slamming grew louder and more frantic, his situation remained the same. He’d tried shouting as loud as he could— Which if Bryce was to be believed was, in fact, loud enough to wake the dead— But still… Nothing. 

He was in one of the holding cells used for captured enemies. He’d gone in here to get a notebook he had left behind when he’d been cleaning it, and the door had swung shut and locked itself behind him, leaving him trapped… The door was allegedly sound-proofed, and now Kenneth was positive that that was true. He’d been screaming his lungs out, thrashing his hands and feet against it, doing everything he could to create a racket… But no one had heard him. 

Additionally, he hadn’t told anyone ahead of time that he was coming here. It was supposed to be such a quick errand, he just didn’t think he NEEDED to let anyone know. No one knew he was here.

Plus, this was supposed to be his day off. That meant Bryce wouldn’t think it was unusual when he didn’t show up at his post. 

Dwight would be at HIS post, and would maybe look around for him at break time, but then when he didn’t find him, he’d assume he’d gone into town for his day off. Dwight wouldn’t realize he was actually missing until later on in the evening. 

Of course, he knew Dwight would look for him then, but he’d NEVER think to check here first. He’d go around to the medical building first, or ask Bryce… He’d probably even check around in town before he considered coming HERE, if he ever did at all… 

Dwight was going to be really worried… He was going to think Kenneth had gone into town and something horrible had happened there… Meanwhile, Kenneth would be trapped in this cell for… For who knew how long. 

The cell was so tiny, so dark… He’d been trapped in one of these once before, but that had been much different. Bryce had stuck him in it as a joke, meaning someone was AWARE of where he was. And he’d known Bryce wouldn’t just leave him to rot forever… Plus, Dwight had been WITH him that time… 

Now, he was completely alone, in this cramped, confined space, and nobody knew to come let him out… 

When that settled in for him, he finally stopped banging his hands and feet into the door, he finally stopped screaming… A coldness erupted in the soles of his feet and rattled all the way up to the top of his head. He’d never felt such an intense chill before. 

He slumped against the wall, slid down to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. He was shaking, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. This was so… He was scared. And not even the normal kind of fear, either. This wasn’t how he felt when he saw a centipede, or got startled by a sudden sound. This wasn’t even how he felt when Elizabeth had seen him and Dwight kissing. 

This was… This was real terror, and it knocked the breath right out of him. 

Memories swirled, memories of the box.
Father had a small, locking box, and when Kenneth had been little enough to be tucked inside it, he’d be locked up into it for days on end. Father would sometimes pick the box up and throw it around with him still inside, so frightened as he could only FEEL what was being done to him, couldn’t see a thing. 

It would be so tight inside the box. Kenneth wouldn’t be able to turn his body around at all, any attempts would result in scrapes and bruises as the material dug into him. Father would sometimes open it up in order to use Kenneth’s skin as an ash-tray. Sometimes, Father would give him water. Sometimes not. 

He was never let out of it to pee. 

Father would go ballistic every time he wet himself in the box. 

Now, Kenneth’s shaking increased as he realized that this was actually even WORSE than the box had been… At least with the box, FATHER had known where he was and would take him out of it eventually once he got bored of it… 

Tears streamed down his face, he couldn’t believe he was now in a situation that felt even more hopeless than life with his Father had. “I… I want out…” he mumbled softly to himself through his tears. He couldn’t believe how pathetic his voice sounded, he couldn’t believe it was possible to feel this scared. 

Once he’d gotten too tall to fit in the box, Father took to locking him into the closet instead. That closet had also been Kenneth’s ‘bedroom’, and he kept the door to it open whenever he slept in there. It was too dark and small with the door shut. Kenneth never felt like he could breathe inside it… 

But, sometimes, Father made him shut the door, and then Father put a lock on it so he couldn’t come out. Kenneth would scratch at the door and cry. He’d be so scared… And eventually he’d be very, very thirsty, too. Father would make him stay in the closet for a very long time, and there would be no water. 

Now, Kenneth decided that that was at least one way this was better. The holding cell had a sink, and it worked. He had water. He also had a bed, kind of. The mattress was threadbare, and there was no pillow or sheet, but it was there. And there was a toilet, too. He could survive in here for at least a little while… 

He sucked in a puff of air. His screaming had made him so thirsty. He wanted water… He HAD water. This wasn’t like with Father. 

But, this wasn’t like with ANYONE. 

No one knew where he was. 

No one would set him free any time soon. 

Shakily, he rose to his feet and stumbled towards the sink. He cranked it on and cupped his hands beneath the faucet, taking several long, slow sips. At least there was water… He’d be okay for a bit. He was okay. He was okay… 

He didn’t feel okay at all. 

He wanted Dwight. He wanted Dwight to hold him, to tell him that closed-in, confined spaces weren’t that scary, and that he was safe because HE was there with him… He’d never wanted to feel Dwight’s hand in his own so badly before. 

He even wanted Bryce. He wanted Bryce to yank open the door and start giving him shit for being so stupid. He wanted Bryce to yell at him that he was a moron for coming in here for a dumb notebook and not even telling someone first. He wanted Bryce to shout how idiotic it was to not do anything to keep the door propped open like he’d been WARNED to do the day he’d cleaned in here… 

Kenneth shut the sink back off and collapsed onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on breathing. He tried to steady the rise and fall of his chest, but it kept hitching and shuddering instead. He was still crying, silent tears flowing down his face. He needed Dwight to hug him. He needed Bryce to snap at him… He needed to be anywhere other than where he was… 

He needed more water. His throat hurt so much, his panicked gasping and screaming had frayed it. He returned to the sink. He drank so much that he could hear it sloshing when he curled back up on the bed. 

He got lost in his thoughts for a while. Not good thoughts, either. Thoughts of Father, and of the box, and of the closet… Thoughts of how no one was going to come let him out of here, ever. Thoughts of how he’d die here. Thoughts of how Dwight wouldn’t even know what had become of him and would be so sad for the rest of his life…
Thoughts of how, ultimately, this was all his own fault. He’d been stupid to not tell anyone where he was going. This was his fault. Completely. 

After a couple hours, the water he’d had began to voice its desire to come back out. That was, he supposed, one other way this was better than the box or the closet. There was a toilet. He could pee. 

A few minutes later, his throat choked around a pained sob as he realized that no, that was NOT the case. He couldn’t pee here… Icy terror was gripping all of his veins, all of his muscles. And he couldn’t pee. He just kept standing at the toilet, trembling and crying as he tried to force out a stream that refused to come.
Finally, he gave up. Went back to the bed, laid down on his front and whimpered hard into the mattress. His body shook and shuddered, heaving with the force of his crying. 

Solitary confinement. 

Solitary.
Fucking. 

Confinement. 

As in; Totally alone. No one near him. Not one soul. 

And he still couldn’t go. 

Utterly fucking pathetic. 

He knew, of course, that his ability to empty his bladder was locked to his emotional state at any given time, and that his current emotional state was one of extreme fear the likes of which he’d never experienced before. One of the biggest constants in Kenneth’s life was the awareness that he couldn’t urinate when he was anxious, and he’d discovered already that the exact cause of his anxiety was unimportant. Usually, it was being around other people, but sometimes it could be something else entirely. 

He flashed back to the day Dwight had been laid up in the medical building, hurt. He recalled how he’d endured close to a full day without a pee, feeling nothing but terror and shame. He choked and swallowed loudly as new arms of icy fear wrapped themselves around his body. He was feeling the exact same things now, to an even more fevered level. 

His bladder could be the thing that ended his life in here. 

His bladder could rupture and actually kill him before any form of deprivation did it first. 

At that thought, he swore he actually felt his urinary sphincters twisting themselves shut, he physically felt them closing and locking up, unwilling to let even one drop seep through his opening. A spasm rocked through his bladder a moment later; A wicked, fiery one that made him grunt and grimace with discomfort. 

He had to go… 

He needed to… He needed to stop thinking so negatively. If he continued down this line of thought, the line that insisted his ability to pee was going to shut off for good until he was freed and felt safe again, then that really WOULD happen. He actually would end up holding it for an agonizing length of time again, he would risk another infection, he would be in danger of causing even worse damage to his body than that. 

Kenneth needed to think more positively than that… But, Kenneth struggled with having optimistic thoughts even in the best circumstances. He needed Dwight to help him see the bright side of things, or to make him feel hopeful that everything would turn out okay in the end…

And Dwight wasn’t here now. 

Nobody was. 

And nobody was going to be. 

SOMEBODY would have to open that door eventually! Yeah. The only reason Kenneth had come in here was because he’d forgotten something while cleaning— That was done once every week, the cells were mopped and checked for bugs. Someone would come to do that again, and they’d find him. 

But, Kenneth had JUST cleaned here yesterday. There were several days to go before the cell was due to be mopped again. If Kenneth couldn’t make himself feel calm enough to pee in here… His body couldn’t TAKE multiple days without relief. That was physically impossible, something would have to give… He’d either break down and soak himself as he’d done the day Dwight was injured— likely making himself sick in the process— Or he’d get so full that something inside of him snapped apart, requiring major medical treatment that he’d be unable to get in this place. 

‘Stop thinking of this as life-and-death,’ Kenneth begged himself as he resumed staring at the ceiling. His legs were flailing uncomfortably as his pee refused to stop simmering. ‘You need to relieve yourself, that’s all.’ 

Kenneth knew he’d also have to continue drinking during the time he remained here, no matter how painful his bladder got. He couldn’t go for DAYS without water. He already knew much too well what happened then. He already knew that THAT was the only feeling which was worse than an agonizingly full bladder that refused to split open and drain. 

‘Someone will let you out eventually,’ Kenneth told himself. He allowed his eyes to slowly drift shut and tried to block out his surroundings. He wasn’t trapped in a constricting, narrow room with very little light. He wasn’t. He was outside, he was at the beach. Where everything was wide open and bright. Where sand and ocean stretched out for miles and he could move and breathe. There was no reason to be frightened. He was safe. He was free. 

And Dwight was with him, holding his hand. They were alone, so it didn’t matter if they were touching each other like that. He imagined Dwight drawing him closer, kissing him gently and telling him “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you. Always remember to tell me where you’re going, okay?” 

Kenneth concentrated on the fantasy so hard that it felt real. The coldness surrounding him was replaced by Dwight’s warmth. The whole beach was warm, the sun was so bright… The ocean was so loud. “I won’t forget ever again, Dwight. I promise.” 

Waves lapped against the imaginary shore, and their noise soon became more real to Kenneth than any other aspect of his daydream. He pictured himself gripping onto Dwight’s hand more tightly and whispering to him that he needed to relieve himself. He pictured Dwight nodding slightly and telling him that that wasn’t a problem, because they were the only two people here. Kenneth could just go in the sand, no one would see, and Dwight would be right there to make sure of that. Kenneth pictured himself aiming at the sand between his feet and easily letting it all go, finally feeling so much better… 

But, that part of the fantasy didn’t feel real at all. The relief was unable to go beyond the confines of his imagination, just like Kenneth was unable to go beyond the confines of this prison. His eyes snapped back open when the release he was daydreaming about turned into pangs of urgent need that forced him to wrap a hand around his cock and pinch his opening closed. 

The second he’d grabbed hold of himself, he questioned why he’d done it; Why he’d bothered. He knew how unlikely he was to wet himself feeling the way he did, and he knew he ought to feel GRATEFUL for any spurts that managed to seep into his boxers rather than remaining locked away. Habits were tough to break though, it was just instinct for him to squeeze his crotch when he felt his bladder spasm that hard. 

His breathing had settled some, the daydream had soothed him at least slightly. Maybe this was a good time to try again… He crawled out of bed and walked over to the toilet. His bladder lurched at the sight of it, bearing down on itself and pumping liquid right up against his opening. In spite of feeling like he had to TIGHTEN his grip now, he released his cock from his hand. He was so utterly terrified of hurting himself again that he didn’t CARE if some of his urine spilled out into his pants, so long as it didn’t stay inside of him anymore. 

But, even with all the roaring, aching feelings coursing down the length of his cock, no warmth trickled into his boxers. 

He tried not to let that alarm him. It did, after all, go against his body’s natural instincts to pee when all his clothing was still up. This could still work… Trying not to keep himself calm, trying not to shake or let fear surge through him again, he carefully unbuttoned his uniform and pulled down his zipper. ‘Please…’ he begged inside his head. ‘Please, if I have to be in here, please just let me have this one thing…’ He aimed, shut his eyes once more. ‘You’re not… You’re not here. You’re somewhere safe. You’re in a place that you can walk out of whenever you want to. You just don’t want to yet because the toilet is here and you REALLY need to go. That’s all.’ 

He DID really need to go. There wasn’t a clock in here, and he hadn’t worn a watch today, but it felt like it was about the time he usually had his break. He was always achingly full when his break came. His bladder had grown accustomed to his typical schedule, it EXPECTED to be emptied at this time each day. Maybe that would help it drain here, too. Like, some sort of muscle memory… 

His bladder was SCORCHING inside him, his eyes were squeezed so tight, his urethra burned… He felt like his pee was literally just at the very edge of his bladder’s opening, like it didn’t even have more than another little millimeter to move before it would be out and flowing down into the toilet. It hurt so badly to have it stuck there, so close to breaking free. ‘Please… Just a little further, please?’ he thought desperately. ‘It’s hurting…’ 

It refused to budge, that last taut ring of muscle refused to ease. Not one drop managed to squirt out of him. His eyes dragged themselves open again and filled with tears. This was so pathetic. In every way. He was such a moron, and all of this was his fault. 

Having to see his surroundings again did not help Kenneth at all. His heartbeat ramped up speed and slammed hard in his chest. This was such an awful, awful room. He thought now that maybe being put here was too harsh for their enemies. He understood needing to lock them up, but couldn’t there at least be a window? Just a tiny one, too small for anyone to possibly escape out of? Completely closed off, so little light… He’d never questioned it before, but now that he’d been in here for so long, it seemed too cruel. The cells should have been built with windows, the beds in them should at least have sheets… The doors shouldn’t have been sound-proofed, because what if something went wrong? What if there was an emergency and the person stuck inside couldn’t get help? 

If… If Father heard him say something like that, he’d slap him so hard… “You soft, weak little faggot,” he’d say. “They are your enemies. Never show compassion.” 

Kenneth shuddered where he stood, feeling further from peeing than he ever had before. Yes, these cells were meant for their enemies, and he was not supposed to feel sympathy for them. The last time one had been captured trespassing, he pretended that the man was actually his Father— His superiors had wanted him to interrogate the trespasser. Kenneth had even been ENCOURAGED by them to pretend the man was actually his Father, and to do to the man what he’d do to his Father. It hadn’t been easy at first, because the man did not look like Father, or sound like Father, or act like Father… And Kenneth’s superiors had gotten irritated with him. 

But, then he’d heard something, he’d heard one of his superiors rummaging around, and then there was ice rattling inside a glass, and then Kenneth had that strange thing happen again; The thing where he’d have a nightmare, but without falling asleep first. 

And suddenly it was very easy to pretend that the captured man was really his Father. 

He’d regretted that day ever since. For a few minutes, he’d allowed himself to become something that he’d never wanted to be. All the time he acted, it was like he was standing in a place outside his own body and watching everything take place. There as a brutal pushing and pulling taking place within his mind as one side of himself begged him to stop and the other screamed that he NEEDED to do this. 

He did stop eventually. Once Dwight walked in, the haze faded, the nightmares cleared from his vision and he could only see himself, his friend, and what he’d done to the captured man. 

And he’d felt sick. 

He’d gotten sick too, the second he was out of the room, he was heaving. Dwight tried to hold him, but Kenneth pushed him away. He didn’t think he deserved to be touched so gently anymore. Not after what he’d done. 

A few days later, Dwight brought him back to the captured man, Kenneth wanted to apologize to him, to bring him food, to explain that he had no idea what had come over him but that he didn’t want that side of him to come out ever again. 

But, the man had been terrified of him, unable to look at him without shaking. 

The whole thing had taken place in a room nearly identical to the one Kenneth was trapped inside of now. Perhaps, being stuck here was a form of karma for letting his demon take full control for so long. 

At least, if he was in here, everyone else would be safe from his demon. 

Everyone but him, anyway. 

Because, several more minutes passed and his bladder remained stubborn and full. His Father’s voice continued to fade in and out of his consciousness reminding him of how pathetic he was. Flashes of the awful things he’d done in a room so similar to this one popped through his vision. 

What made him finally snap was not the increased flares of pressure bubbling inside his bladder. Not the knives and syringes that poked sharply against his bloated organ. Not the maddening feeling of desperation that just refused to ease no matter how hard he tried to force it to. Not the ache in the base of his cock that hurt so much he thought it was about to burst and detach itself from his body. 

What made him finally snap was not one more thought of how humorous Father would find his current situation. Not one more imagined comment from him of “Holy shit, you’re such a pathetic little brat! Can’t even piss when you’re in god damned solitary, can you!?” or “Jesus Christ, I thought by your age you’d finally figure out how to use the fucking toilet!” Not one more memory of one of the countless times Father had stood behind him and shouted about how ridiculous it was that he couldn’t accomplish something as simple as urination. 

No, what made him finally snap was when he thought back to what he’d done to the trespasser and realized that, had Father seen it happen, he would have been proud of his son for the first time in his life. 

When he realized that, Kenneth lost all control of himself, save for one very important part. His bladder remained full, round and hard as a rock inside him, but everything else erupted with explosion after explosion. He stumbled away from the toilet, collapsed on the bed, and began to strike himself again and again. He slapped his face, he bashed his chest, he scraped his nails viciously into his arms until he felt cool blood trickling down them, gouging open his flesh even through the material of his uniform sleeves. 

“You sick, psychotic bastard!” Kenneth screamed as loud as he could, even louder than he’d been shouting for freedom hours ago as he’d thrashed madly at the door. “What the Hell is wrong with you!? You’re him! You’re worse than him! You’re a crazy, insane piece of shit, and you deserve nothing but pain! You deserve to hurt, you deserve to freaking die! You are a blight on the world!” 

He grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked. As he continued to shout, he tasted salt in his mouth and knew he was sobbing. “Go ahead and cry, you little shit! Your tears don’t matter! No one cares! You don’t deserve for anyone to care! You are sick! You are disgusting! You need to be punished! I hope you die in here and nobody ever finds your freaking body! You need— You deserve—“ He flipped over onto his front, and now all his weight was on top of his bladder. 

The pained organ screamed at all the new added pressure, going into a frenzy. It thrashed and flailed as much as Kenneth himself was. Kenneth turned back over and the pressure eased, but he didn’t think he deserved for it to ease. He deserved for it to get worse. He deserved for everything to get worse. So, he laid himself on his back, and he smashed both of his hands overtop of his midsection as hard as he could stand— And then a little harder than that. 

The distended curve in his lower belly cramped beneath the weight of his palms, he felt like forty cannonballs were being fired into his bladder, then a wave of hundred pound anvils. He felt like his insides were being twisted, knotted in such a way that they’d never be able to get un-tangled again. He was sobbing so loud it echoed in the tiny room, his choked cries only being interrupted by more screams about how much he DESERVED to feel this way. 

He deserved it. He deserved it. He deserved it. He deserved to feel like he was having barbed wire shoved deep inside his urethra. He deserved it. He deserved to have his back igniting with torturous misery. He deserved it. He deserved the way his bladder felt like it was being ripped and torn and shreds. And, if it actually ruptured, if this was the day it got bad enough to hospitalize him, he would deserve that to— But he WOULDN’T deserve to have someone actually FIND him and get him medical care in time. 

And, of course, even with all the punching and squeezing and slapping against his bladder, nothing was trickling out into his clothes. No pee was exiting him. It was all staying locked inside, all causing him excruciating throes of anguish, like he DESERVED for it to. Beneath his hands, his skin felt taut, like his bladder was about to sear right through it and break him apart. He deserved to have it break him. He deserved it. He deserved it. He was already broken. He was always going to be broken and nothing would ever fix him, because he did not deserve to be fixed. He was scum. 

“That’s right,” he could remember Father saying. “You are scum. Scum’s all you’re ever gonna be, too. Look at yourself. You ruined my life, you know that? You think you’re the victim in all this? Because you aren’t. You destroyed my life, I had no choice in that. Your bitch Mother made that decision for me. You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet. Don’t test me. Repeat after me; ‘I am scum.’” 

“I am scum…” Kenneth whimpered into the dark room, still thrusting his hands into the swell of his abdomen. 

“Not good enough, you little shit. Louder.” 

“I am scum,” Kenneth repeated in a pained shout. It was like his hands were squishing and shoving his urine up into his throat… 

“LOUDER.” 

“I AM SCUM!!” Kenneth screamed, ramming his hands down until he finally felt the firm bulge in his middle compress, and the pain in his back reached a level he’d never before experienced; It was crushing, brutal, so awful he thought he was finally actually about to explode. 

“And that’s ALL you’ll ever be…” 

Kenneth’s eyes finally opened again, shakily he withdrew his hands, let them tuck against his crotch instead as he flopped over onto his side and tried to soothe himself. He couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop trembling. He wanted Dwight, NEEDED Dwight… He… 

A sudden noise shocked him back to reality. 

His flailing leg had knocked his notebook off the bed and to the floor. That stupid fucking notebook, the only reason he was in here to start with. He didn’t want to get out of bed and KNEEL down to pick it back up, he thought he’d punished himself enough for now. He was just barely able to reach one hand down and grab the notebook off the ground. 

Using the hand not wedged between his legs, he opened the cover, desperate for something else to fill his brain with. All he could think about was how much he wanted to pee, how he was completely alone. How he deserved both of those things because of how awful he was. The notebook was mostly reminders he’d written to himself, and stupid things he’d drawn. One full page of crude doodles of the beach and of Dwight… 

Towards the back, the words he saw were suddenly in a different handwriting. Rather than Kenneth’s chicken-scratch, it was Dwight’s neat script; Something Kenneth could recognize anywhere. 

Kenneth, 

I know you’re probably feeling very bad about what happened today with the trespasser. I know you probably think you are turning into your father now. But, you aren’t. Your father would never feel the way you are right now. He’d be proud of himself if he did something like that, but you aren’t proud at all. You know that it wasn’t right. 

I don’t understand what happens when you have nightmares while you’re still awake, but from what I heard, it sounds like our superiors TRIED to make that happen to you today so they could get a specific reaction. They were yelling at you, and then they started pouring alcohol so you’d have to hear and smell things that make you think of your father. I think maybe there are certain things that CAUSE you to have the waking nightmares, or whatever you call them, and they figured some of them out. 

You did lose it today, you did do something bad— Something that you know is bad, and it’s good that you are aware of that. But, I think this might have been one of those things where lots of people decided to do the wrong things. I think we should find the stuff that makes you have the waking nightmares so you can anticipate them better, and maybe then we can control them and the ways they make you react? 

I don’t know. I really don’t understand how come those things happen to you. But, I just don’t think what happened today was completely all your fault. It’s just something we need to work on together and that other people shouldn’t try to take advantage of. 

And you should apologize to the man you hurt. Even if he doesn’t forgive you, it’s the right thing to do. 

We’ll sort out these things together, Kenneth. I promise. I’ll always be here for you, even when you do something wrong. I love you. 

-Dwight 

Kenneth could actually remember Dwight saying a few of those things to him the day the incident happened, but he’d been too upset to hear it. That was probably why he’d decided to write it down. Dwight was probably right. When his superiors had poured themselves drinks, the room had filled with an oder that for years had always come right before a beating. When they’d shaken the glasses, Kenneth was suddenly a child again and the captured trespasser appeared much more threatening. 

And he remembered his superiors had never actually DRANK any of the alcohol they’d gotten, like the glasses and the fluid inside them had all just been props… 

Kenneth felt slightly less like an evil monster. He’d done something horrible that day, but his superiors had as well. 

He didn’t realize he’d started crying again until wetness began to rumple the sheet of paper housing Dwight’s message. He rubbed the tears from the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to get the paper damp, it was the only piece of Dwight he had in here with him. 

He laid back down and held the notebook to his chest, trying to pretend that Dwight’s words were actually Dwight himself… 

Kenneth’s bladder felt like it had been bruised now. An aching, sharp soreness assailing it on all sides. He wondered if maybe he could have actually bruised it when he’d been beating his hands into it. It felt so strange now. 

Kenneth had experienced all kinds of pee desperation in his life, he’d experienced it at levels that most people were lucky enough to never need to endure. He’d felt his bladder throb, pulse, swell and burn… But, now he was feeling something that even HE had never known before. 

His abdomen sort of felt the way it did after he just finished a whole bunch of sit-ups. Tender, sore and bothered by the slightest movement. But, underneath that feeling were tons and tons of tiny points— Kind of like dozens of dull knives were poking against the skin of his midsection from the inside. He could still register it as a sensation trying to alert him that he needed to urinate, but it was not how ‘needing to urinate’ usually felt at all.
Even the day Dwight had been hurt, the day when he’d nearly gone a full twenty four hours without a drop of relief, it hadn’t felt like this. 

Now that Dwight’s note had cleared away so much of his self-loathing, he worried that smooshing his own bladder in a fit of uncontrollable rage had damaged it. It really, really didn’t feel right. 

The pain around the base of his cock and thundering against his pee-hole was different now as well. The urgency wasn’t coming in pulsating waves as before, but in constant electric tingles, akin to the way it felt to walk on a foot that had fallen asleep for several minutes. Staticky little pins and needles mixed with a dull, achy numbness. 

He had the back pain now, had had it for a while. Those pressurized ripples setting immense fires beneath his ribs. But, that too was slightly different from normal, because every few seconds he’d feel a heavy sharpness driving its way down his sides. 

The entire middle area of his body was a multiplex of pain. 

He. Had. To. Fucking. Go. 

He had to! He was getting deeply frightened of what would become of him if he didn’t get at least SOME of his pee out. 

Dwight’s letter, it had calmed him down, maybe enough that he’d be able to void a little now. He hoped so. 

He struggled out of the bed. He was unable to pull himself fully upright, he was practically crawling along on the ground as he dragged himself over to the toilet. He hadn’t bothered to button his uniform or re-zip his pants after his last failed attempt, so he easily slid his cock free right away. “Pleaaaase…” he whimpered pleadingly into the darkness. “It really hurts. Please, just make it stop. Please?” 

It didn’t stop. 

It only got worse as he stared longingly at the toilet in front of him, dying to blast it full of his piss. 

“Please…” Kenneth begged. “Please, stop freaking holding it. You don’t HAVE to hold it anymore. You can just go. You can ALWAYS just go if there’s a toilet… Just, please…” 

The longer he tried, the more difficult it got, because against his will his brain supplied him with mocking comments, all snickered out in his Father’s cruel voice. “Holy fuck, look at yourself. You’re a disgrace. Normally, you can’t piss because ‘waaah, people are NEAR me!’ and NOW you can’t piss because you’re too alone!? The fuck do you actually WANT?” 

“You’re not here,” Kenneth hissed between his clenched teeth. 

“I am,” the imaginary voice replied. “I’m always here. I’m inside of you. I’m a part of you. No matter how hard you try to drive me out.” 

“You are NOT,” Kenneth shouted, stomping his feet hard against the floor, both out of frustration and desperation. “You’re just in my head!” 

“Exactly,” there was a smile in Father’s voice now. “I’m in your head. Forever. Controlling you. Shaping you. Everything about you is what I chose; You can’t piss because I don’t want you to. You lose control of yourself and give over to your fury because it’s what I want. You will never get rid of me until the day you die, because you are what I made you.” 

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Kenneth screamed, jumping in place. “I just— I have to go! Leave me the Hell alone!” 

“How can I? I’m inside your head. I CAN’T leave you.” 

Kenneth was trembling so much he looked like he was vibrating. His face was so red he looked sunburnt. His bladder was so full it felt lethal. And he couldn’t— He couldn’t let his brain keep torturing him like this, couldn’t let himself keep imagining that Father was with him. His imagination was making the monster turn real. 

He fumbled his cock back into his pants and returned to the bed. He dropped himself onto it and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. His hands yearned to wrap themselves around his dick, desperate to try and plug his opening closed, but he didn’t allow them to. He couldn’t even fucking piss himself at this point he didn’t think, and if he DID then so the fuck what? At least it would be over, at least it would finally be fucking over! 

Instead, his hands reached upwards and grasped onto the sides of his head. He laid there, rocking himself back and forth both in a futile attempt to quell the angry fire in his bladder and out of a need to please, please, PLEASE just calm down… 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, enduring wave after wave of furious agony assaulting him from top to bottom. His bladder hurt, but the inside of his mind hurt so much worse than that. How long had he been in here? It felt like it had been days, but he knew it couldn’t have been as he wasn’t yet feeling that thirsty again— Thank FUCK for that, the last thing he wanted was more fluid.
Exhaustion began to take hold after a while, his entire body feeling empty, heavy and devoid of all energy. He felt like he was fading away. 

He wished he could. 

*** 

“Please, please, please open!” Kenneth whimpered as loudly as he dared. He was nervously twisting the doorknob to the restroom, begging it to open up for him. “Please…” he sniffled. “Can’t hold it…” 

He hadn’t gone all day. 

The last time he’d gone had been yesterday evening, when after growing fed up with Kenneth’s constant pleas for the toilet, Father had tossed him down the stairs to shut him up. When he landed on the wrong place one too many times, his bladder had broken apart and drenched him and some of the stairs. First, Father had laughed at how pathetic a sight it was. Then, when he realized the mess made on the steps, he rushed down them and began kicking Kenneth around on the floor, screaming at him for being a disgusting piece of shit. 

Kenneth hadn’t peed a drop since then, 

He really, REALLY had to now. His hands had been between his legs for half an hour— Doing the thing Father had forbidden him from doing, the thing that had made Father threaten to cut his hands OFF a few times. 

But, that was okay now because Father was asleep. Kenneth could do some of the things he wasn’t allowed to do now because Father wouldn’t see. Kenneth had thought maybe that meant he’d get to go pee finally, but of course that had been an empty hope; Father had put the lock onto the door again. He wasn’t going to get in. 

It hurt… 

Upon realizing the door was locked, Kenneth had tried to improvise. ‘Dwight said it’s okay to go pee in a bottle if you really, really have to go,’ he had recalled. And he DEFINITELY really, really had to go, and there were empty bottles all over the place. 

But, when he’d gotten one of the bottles and lowered his shorts, he’d been unable to refill it. He’d just knelt on the floor, holding the bottle in place, trembling with equal parts need and fear. He couldn’t go. He kept thinking about what Father would do if his misdeed was found out, and he just couldn’t get things flowing. 

He’d also tried to go pee in the flower pot. The flowers in it were all dead anyway because Father never watered them. Dwight had told him lots of times that it was okay to go pee on plants outside, so inside plants should be okay too… But, again, he’d been completely incapable of it. He was too scared. Father would notice the dirt was wet, and he’d know something had happened. 

Kenneth needed to use the toilet. He needed to get in there and pee extra quiet— He’d learned he could do that if he made it go onto just the porcelain in the bowl instead of into the water directly. He needed to remember not to flush after he’d finished to avoid making noise— He wouldn’t have to, Father had made him drink tons of water today to make sure his bladder would hurt extra bad as punishment. Kenneth had learned that when he drank lots of water, his pee was all clear. If he did those things, he’d go and Father wouldn’t know about it. 

But, he couldn’t get inside the room! 

Kenneth knew what was most likely to happen. No way would he last until morning, he’d go on the floor and Father would wake up, see the puddle, and punish him. Then, everything would start over again. He’d be just as desperate to go again soon enough, and he’d still have no way to do it. He’d pee his pants again, be punished again, and start it all over again… 

Kenneth didn’t understand why it had to be like this. It wasn’t fair. Dwight and the other boys he lived with were all allowed to go pee when they had to! Dwight even had a pot under his bed to go in if he was having an emergency and the line for the toilet was too long! The nuns wanted Dwight and the other boys to be comfortable, and didn’t punish them for needing to go pee. Why did the rules here have to be so different? 

Kenneth had tried to figure out what he’d done that was so bad, why his Father hated him so much when he always tried so hard to be good and follow the rules— He knew he broke them a lot, but he didn’t MEAN to do that. When he fell asleep without permission, when he peed himself, when he snuck sips of water… His body just FORCED him to do those things. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay awake forever, he couldn’t hold his pee forever, he couldn’t go without water for the entire length of time he’d been grounded from it… His body just wouldn’t work how Father insisted that it needed to. 

Why did those things even HAVE to be rules, though? Dwight was allowed to sleep! Dwight was allowed to go pee! Dwight was allowed to have water! And he could have all those things whenever his body said it needed them! Dwight didn’t have to beg, or plead his case, or sneak around to do such basic things. He could just DO them! 

When Mother was alive, she had told Father his rules were ridiculous. She would give Kenneth water when he said he was thirsty, even if Father had said ‘no’. She had set a bedtime for Kenneth and didn’t make him stay up when he was too tired. When Kenneth told her he needed the toilet, she brought him to it— And when he’d been REALLY little she’d even thanked him and told him he was being good for telling her before he had an accident. When Father said Kenneth was not allowed to sleep or pee, Mother argued with him, Mother said Kenneth should be allowed to do those things because he NEEDED to.
Kenneth wished she was still here. Somehow, he didn’t think things would be as bad if she were… 

Kenneth hated his Father’s stupid rules, they made no sense and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make himself follow them. 

Kenneth also hated his BODY’S stupid rules too, though. 

Because, he’d come to understand that his body definitely had them, except they were never said aloud the way Father’s rules were. 

The rules of Kenneth’s body only pertained to peeing; 

His body did not allow him to pee if someone was near him. 

His body did not allow him to pee if something was scaring him. 

His body did not allow him to pee if there was a chance someone could walk by and either see or hear (such as inside a public restroom or outside on a tree.) 

His body did not allow him to pee if he could hear unusual sounds.

His body did not allow him to pee right away in an unfamiliar location, if it was going to allow it at all.

His body did not allow him to pee unless it was an emergency. 

There was one rule that was different from all the others; 

His body would almost ALWAYS allow him to pee eventually if Dwight was beside him. 

That rule confused Kenneth the most, as it seemed to go against a few of the others… But, he didn’t complain about it. It was his favorite of the rules, he liked having something that made all the other, horrible ones, go away. 

He wished Dwight was here with him now, to help him go into a bottle or onto the dead flowers… But, he also DIDN’T wish Dwight was here. This place was too awful for Dwight to be in. Dwight didn’t deserve to be here. 

Kenneth whimpered quietly in his misery, his insides were all REALLY hurting. They felt like they were all knotting together, pulling tight… He kept his hands between his legs, but they didn’t seem to be helping much anymore. The pain was too great for his hands to soothe anymore. 

He hated having to live this way. He hated his Father. He hated all the rules. He hated his bladder. He hated himself. 

Because, there must have been something wrong with him, right? Maybe God had seen that something about him was terrible, and that was why he was forced to live such an awful life. He was being punished for some reason, even if he didn’t know what it was. “I hate myself…” he sniffled out. “I am scum…” Father had forced him to repeat that phrase so many times, he knew it was probably true. “I am scum, I am scum…” 

He WAS scum. He was disgusting and revolting. He was disgusting and revolting because he knew that, any second now, he was going to begin drenching himself in his own urine once again. He could feel it coming. He’d had so many accidents that he knew right away what his body felt like in the moments leading up to one. 

It was over. 

He was going to be punished again come morning. 

Crying more, he leaned against the door to the room he needed so badly, and— 

Stumbled a little. 

The door had popped open a crack. 

It had popped OPEN. 

The lock hadn’t been engaged all the way, and jostling it had gotten it to come out completely! 

Kenneth could…
He could go pee…
Without a second thought, he hurried into the restroom. He gently closed the door behind himself, tugging his shorts down as he scrambled for the toilet. Almost over… He knew it would likely take a bit for the pee to come out, but at least now he’d be in the right spot when that finally happened. 

His expectations were shattered when, the very second he was positioned in front of the toilet, he was going! It all came out right away! He hadn’t needed to concentrate or anything! Just, his body recognized where he was, and that was enough! He was peeing! 

He felt so good, so happy that he’d managed to do this so easily, that he forgot to aim away from the water. It was all gushing directly into it, making a loud splashing noise. But, he didn’t care. Father couldn’t take this away from him now! It was too late for that man to do anything about it, he just had to lay in his bed and sleep as Kenneth did this forbidden thing; Relieving himself properly into a toilet with neither permission nor supervision. 

And, his body was cooperating, too! He hadn’t even needed to TELL himself to pee, he just did it! Just like Dwight could! Just like everyone else could! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to just… GO like this, and it felt good, it felt so good. So good, so— 

“Mmmmff….” Kenneth’s eyes blinked open, ripping him out of the relief he’d experienced inside his Father’s restroom that night and placing him back into the desperation he was feeling now inside the cell. 

But, once more, his desperation was feeling different, sort of. All the pain from before was still exactly the same, except for around one place… Before he could almost kind of feel his opening screwing itself closed, as though the plug he always pictured there was not imaginary but a real, tangible thing. But, he didn’t have the sensation of being stopped up right now, in fact he felt light drips of liquid beading against his tip, and very little resistance AGAINST those drops. 

One slipped out into his boxers, and then another, and— 

“Oh, God— Hurry—!” Kenneth choked out in a gasp, flinging himself out of the bed. His buttons and zip were still undone— Thank God!— but he REALLY couldn’t stand up. Any attempts to do so resulted in more little drips, and the sensation that he was being yanked hard in two opposite directions. He literally crawled his way the short distance to the toilet, and needed to grab onto the seat as he pulled himself up… He couldn’t stand, it hurt too fucking bad to stand. He tugged at his pants, shimmied them down his legs. He hated doing this sitting down, it was always so much harder, but his body was physically incapable of standing right now. 

His thighs were trembling as he finally started to lower himself onto the seat, hoping that this really would work and that it wouldn’t take TOO long before he started to— 

HSSSSS!!! 

Kenneth was pissing violently before he’d even managed to sit down all the way. Once he’d fully collapsed onto the seat and the sudden drop in pressure hit him as the sound of his thunderous release poured into his ears… He actually didn’t understand what was happening at first. ‘Am I really—‘
He even needed to look down, part his legs a bit to confirm it, but sure enough he saw a powerful jet of pee spraying from his tip and into the water below him. This was happening, he’d let his bladder go simply and automatically— And while sitting down, extra vulnerable and exposed, too! 

Once his disbelief cleared and he accepted that yes, he WAS in fact peeing, he groaned out a massive sigh. “Ahhhhhh….” His entire body went limp and he leaned back hard against the tank of the toilet, incapable of putting in the energy it took to just sit up straight. The pins and needles that had been stabbing sharply all throughout his lower half faded to be replaced with a tingly little hum that felt like being massaged. 

His pee was spraying so noisily that he wondered if it was actually loud enough to penetrate through the material of the sound-proof door. He swore, he’d NEVER pissed this hard before in his life, and that was saying A LOT. It felt like his bladder was actually vibrating from the sheer force of its contents being emptied out. He was seriously letting go of a FLOOD, and it wouldn’t stop for ANYTHING. NOTHING in the world could make Kenneth stop peeing right now, he wanted to keep doing it forever, it felt so good, so amazing… It felt like a victory, a triumph, like he was defeating a demon. 

Indeed, the imaginary voice of his Father had been completely silent the whole time he’d been going. His Father couldn’t take this from him, he could PEE as much as he freaking wanted to right now! His breathing kept coming in deep gasps, his legs and back all shaking with pleasure. So much better, so much better, dear God it was just so much better… 

And— 

The door to the cell finally opened. 

Kenneth’s hands immediately flew to try and cover himself, his stream slowed down, but somehow didn’t stop… And it immediately picked back up to its full strength again when he saw who it was. 

“There you—“ Dwight stopped, blushing as he turned around. “Uh… I’ll come back in in a minute…” he said, stepping out and shutting the door again. 

Kenneth knew he must have been turning very red, but he was too relieved to feel that embarrassed. He was peeing, and he was about to freed. Everything was okay again. Almost half a minute later, his stream slowed down once more, but this time it was just because he was nearly finished. When the last few spurts trickled into the bowl, he remained seated for another moment, trying to catch his breath and regain some more control over himself. 

He gave one more long sigh as he finally got off the seat and onto his wobbly feet. He pulled his pants up and slowly zipped them, then stumbled back over to the bed where he fell face first against the mattress. 

His body was completely exhausted, raw and so, so, so fucking relieved… His bladder was still pulsing, as though trying to shove out more urine even though it was completely empty. 

The door opened again. “Um… Kenneth?” Dwight called softly. “You done? Come out now if you are…” 

Kenneth didn’t want to move from his place, but he needed to be in his OWN bed with Dwight’s arms around him as soon as possible. He dragged himself up— Made DAMN sure he had his stupid fucking notebook— and finally walked out the door, where he leaned heavily against his friend. 

Dwight ran a hand down his side, “Kenneth… Are you okay?” he asked. “I know how tight spaces make you feel… How long were you in there?” 

“I… I don’t know,” Kenneth replied hoarsely. His voice was worn out from all the screaming he’d done during his entrapment. “TOO long.” 

“When you weren’t in the barrack last night, I was so scared,” Dwight said. 

‘Last night.’ 

“D—Dwight? What time is it?” 

Dwight pulled back his sleeve to check his watch. “It’s… It’s about when I usually have my mid-day break…” he said. “Almost 12:00.”

’12:00. The… The next day?’ 

Dwight yawned. “Was… Was up all night looking for you in town, and checking everywhere I could think of, but I couldn’t find you… This morning I asked all the other guards if they’d seen you, and they hadn’t…” 

‘Last time I peed before I got stuck in there was, I think, seven in the morning?’ 

“And I kept thinking something terrible had happened to you, I was so worried. Then, I remembered the letter I wrote you in your notebook, and I hoped you’d read it, and that I hadn’t actually SEEN you with the notebook since the day you were supposed to clean the cells, so I thought maybe…” 

‘Holy freaking… That was was somewhere around twenty nine hours without…’ 

“And, thank God, that WAS where you were,” Dwight said, turning and hugging Kenneth so tight his back popped, before giving him a long kiss on the cheek. “Kenneth, never EVER go somewhere without telling me first again, okay? I almost had a heart attack, never let me think I’ve lost you aga—“ 

“Dwight, I need medical attention,” Kenneth interrupted. 

“What’s…” Dwight stepped back, looked Kenneth over. Poor thing was clearly exhausted, but didn’t look hurt. “What happened?” 

“The whole time I was in there,” Kenneth said. “Up until the very end… I wasn’t able to—“
Dwight went pale. “When I walked in… Was that the first time you’d, uh… ‘gone’ in all that time?” 

Kenneth nodded. “I— I’m sure I got real dehydrated too, but—“ 

“Come on, let’s get you checked out,” Dwight said quickly. 

*** 

Following a very thorough examination, which unfortunately involved a medic pressing on Kenneth’s sore bladder a few times, it was determined that he’d somehow made it through the ordeal without another urinary tract infection. Kenneth was relieved to hear that and looking back, with how great it had felt to finally pee— no stinging or burning around his opening whatsoever— that was a good sign he was relatively okay this time. 

He was told to rest for a few days, though, to drink plenty of water and to pee right away whenever he needed to. He would have a couple days off to make sure he was in healthy shape. 

Once he was finally back inside his and Dwight’s room, his shoulders collapsed from a sudden loss of tension. He was safe and sound once more. He hurried for one of the beds, but Dwight stopped him. “Go pee,” he said. “Before you go to sleep, try and pee again.” 

Kenneth actually was feeling pretty urgent by that time anyway, his bladder was definitely worn out. He stumbled into their restroom, unzipped, lifted the seat, and let loose a nice stream right away. 

“Wow, that was fast,” Dwight commented from the doorway. 

“You were right, I DID have to go,” Kenneth said. “And, I feel safe here. It’s easy here.” He finished after about half a minute and zipped up, then again tried to head to bed. 

Dwight laughed. “You going to sleep in the same uniform you’ve had on since yesterday?” 

“Oh, right…” Kenneth said, his exhaustion obvious in his voice. He normally wore pajamas, unlike Dwight whom preferred to sleep in just his boxers. But, Kenneth’s pajamas were all the way over THERE near the other bed, and he’d have to go all the way over THERE to the restroom to change, and… He was way too tired for any of that. He just pulled off his shirt and tugged down his pants, deciding to sleep in his boxers like Dwight always did. 

Dwight stared, eyes glued to his friend as he stripped off his clothes. Even with his own tiredness after staying awake all night long, the sight got his heart pounding. When he realized Kenneth was going to sleep just in his underwear, his heart pounded more. Hurriedly, he removed his own shirt and pants… And was then very proud of himself when he remembered to make sure the door was locked before joining his friend in bed. 

Snuggling with Kenneth was Dwight’s most favorite way to sleep. Snuggling with Kenneth while he was shirtless was going to be even better. 

The instant Dwight was beside him, the last knots of tension finally fled from Kenneth’s body. He turned, pressed himself as firmly against Dwight as he possibly could. Dwight put his arms around him and managed to draw him in even closer. “I love you, darling…” Dwight yawned. “Just never scare me like that again, okay?” 

“I love you too…” Kenneth said, eyes already going shut. “I promise, I won’t ever let that kind of thing happen again.” 

They were both asleep within minutes. 

Kenneth’s dreams were free of nightmares.

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People who ship Kenneth and Bryce might enjoy this one... 

*** 

Kenneth and Dwight had spent the day doing a few drills in the forest with Bryce. Night had come and the three would be sharing a tent again. Dwight was very, very nervous. He’d been trying his best to make sure he wasn’t in a dream before he peed, and some nights he was able to wake himself up and use the toilet… But, there were still other nights that he wet the bed. 

He didn’t think Bryce would react very pleasantly if Dwight did that tonight. He just had to get himself good and empty before he went to sleep and hope for the best. He started towards the tress, then remembered it had been a while since he’d last taken Kenneth behind one… His friend probably had to go again by now as well, at least a little. 

As Bryce set up the tent, Dwight grabbed onto Kenneth’s shoulder, “Come on,” he said. “I need to go.” 

“Then go,” Kenneth shrugged. 

“I’ve got to help you first,” Dwight reminded. 

“Oh, that’s fine,” Kenneth said. “I’m okay for now. I’ll go when the tent’s finished and we’re heading to sleep.” 

Dwight frowned. It had, indeed, been hours since Kenneth had last relieved his bladder. And he’d been drinking plenty in all that time. No way was he empty right now. “Well,” Dwight let his legs cross in an exaggerated fashion. He wasn’t bursting to go either, but he thought it would be best to get it all out of him now, rather than risk Bryce ordering him into the tent before he went. “I REALLY need to go, so we should do it now.” 

Kenneth looked uncomfortable. His fists swung at his sides uncertainly. He’d had it ingrained into him that he wasn’t supposed to pee if it wasn’t an emergency. The few times that he’d somehow managed to force himself into emptying in front of his Father, Father would scold him; “What were you whining about?! That was NOTHING. You were just wasting my time, weren’t you?!” 

All of those times, it HAD felt to Kenneth that he was about to burst, but apparently it was important that he hold for longer than that. He was supposed to wait until it was hurting, otherwise he was wasting time. 

As an adult, Kenneth always told himself how nonsensical that was. He told himself he should go whenever he felt he had to. It wasn’t a waste of time to get himself feeling more relaxed, it was what he needed to do. 

Yet, most of the time, when he tried to have his bladder release when he only felt a little bit of pressure inside of it, he would almost be able to feel his Father’s rancid breath going down his neck. He’d swear he could hear the man snarling at him that he was weak and pathetic for going now. “You are wasting everyone’s time, you don’t NEED to go right now.” 

Sometimes, Kenneth could be successful at peeing when the urge wasn’t intense. If he was about to leave the barrack for a while, then he would generally be able to shut out the memories of Father telling him he needed to hold it until he ACTUALLY had to piss. In those situations, he was able to talk himself down, remind himself that it was very important that he get himself emptied out prior to leaving ‘just in case’. He knew it would be a while before he’d be in his private restroom again.

Right before bed, then it was easy too. Even if he didn’t need it that badly, he was capable of convincing himself that it was the right choice to pee prior to sleeping. He would trace back through memories of his Mother encouraging him to do exactly that. He would recall her gently saying “Almost time for bed, sweetie. Don’t forget to pass water one last time, alright? You’ll sleep a lot better.” And, upon remembering that, he would be able to go. 

Other times, it was a lot more difficult. Often, it was impossible. Many times before a long train ride, Dwight would say “I need to go before we leave. Come on Kenneth, you should go too.” But, Kenneth would have just gone a little while ago at the barrack, so he’d know his bladder was mostly empty, and therefor he was wasting time by trying to empty it again. He’d think about how he could make them miss their train, and all over just a quick little spurt of pee he could have easily kept holding in. 

Now, Kenneth tried to ignore all of those feelings as best as he could. He watched Dwight’s urgent foot-dancing and told himself that he wasn’t wasting time now. Dwight was bursting to go, and it would actually be a whole lot faster if they went together now. 

So, that was what they did. Dwight took Kenneth behind a few trees and began to rub his back. “You can do this,” he said gently. “It’s just me. I’ve got you.” 

And Kenneth tried to relax and get his stream started. He tried to remember his Mother’s voice saying “You should always go before bed, you don’t want to have to wake up in the middle of the night.” He tried to remember the nightly routine he’d shared with her when he’d been very little. He was struck by how, in those memories, he’d been able to go in front of her so easily. He’d been able to go so easily in general back then, back before he’d lost his Mother and nearly every aspect of his life got so much worse. 

Back then, before Father had discovered that torturing Kenneth’s bladder was apparently one of the funnest things in the world to do, Kenneth could just… Pee. He would pull down his pants and just go, without even thinking about it. There was no pause as he told himself to be calm, no mental reminders that everything was okay, no need for someone to hold him and tell him he was safe. Just… Pants down and pee, that was all. Simple. The same as any other person. 

Kenneth wasn’t sure why he was thinking about that so much now. He’d lived with his tense, nervous bladder and its unwillingness to empty for so long that it was an intrinsic part of his life. He’d been forced to contend with and work around his issue for so many years that holding his pee until it became excruciating and then struggling so hard to let it out was just a part of how it felt for him to exist as a person. 

He’d actually forgotten that there was a time, very early on in his life, that this problem HADN’T been there. 

And then Kenneth felt both incredibly angry and very silly. This curse of his was all Father’s fault, if Father hadn’t treated him so terribly, then Kenneth would be able to piss whenever and wherever the Hell he damn well pleased! If Father hadn’t been such a monster, then Kenneth wouldn’t need to plan out every day and activity around how he’d be able to get relief. If Father hadn’t cast this vicious spell on him, then he wouldn’t have to feel pain so often. And, that made him simmer with rage. 

It also made him feel stupid. Kenneth had known all along WHY he had so much trouble voiding his bladder. He’d ALWAYS known Father was responsible for it. He ALWAYS imagined Father screaming at him or taunting him when he failed to go. He KNEW Father was the cause, he’d never doubted it for a second. 

But, Kenneth had also always been angry at HIMSELF for this problem, not at Father. Kenneth had always been convinced that his problem was at least a little bit HIS fault too, for ALLOWING Father to get in his head so much! He had always believed something must have been broken in him from the start for his body to have reacted this way, and for it to have CONTINUED to react this way for so long! 

But, now that Kenneth had remembered once more that he HAD been fully capable of taking quick and easy pees, he realized that Father was FULLY responsible for all of his urinary troubles! This issue hadn’t lain dormant inside Kenneth’s body, just waiting for the proper trigger before it could ignite and take hold. This issue hadn’t BEEN there until his Father’s cruelty had created it. It was ALL Father’s fault, Kenneth hadn’t done this to himself at all! 

And, that simple realization, the acceptance that this wasn’t now—nor had it ever been—HIS fault, made Kenneth feel so much better about himself. “I—It’s not my fault…” Kenneth mumbled. 

“Hm?” Dwight asked softly, still rubbing circles into his shoulders. 

“This… The peeing thing, it’s not my fault,” Kenneth explained. 

“I know it isn’t,” Dwight assured. “Don’t worry, I don’t need to go THAT badly, I’m fine with helping you fi—“ 

“No, I mean…” Kenneth struggled. “It’s Father’s fault. ALL of it. I didn’t let it happen to me. It’s not my fault.” 

Dwight sighed gently against Kenneth’s neck. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You never believed me.” 

“Is…” Kenneth felt a tiny pulse of pressure at the base of his cock, a small sensation of something inside him loosening. “Is it okay to go now? Even though I don’t really have to?” 

“It’s fine, Kenneth,” Dwight said. “I really want you to go.” 

The little pressure at the edge of Kenneth’s bladder ramped up, he felt it soar down his shaft and against his tip, and then he was peeing. Not a huge, gushing stream as what usually came out when Dwight managed to coax out his release, but just a simple, relaxed trickle. Since he wasn’t blasting the bark of the tree hard enough that it was peeling, he felt he needed to say something so Dwight knew he’d been successful. “Okay, I got it working.” 

“Heh, I know, Kenneth,” Dwight said, stepping beside his friend and pulling himself out. 

Kenneth watched Dwight’s stream flow out immediately. Easily. The same way Kenneth had been able to do it ages and ages ago… He tried to remember how exactly that had FELT, the precise sensation of hardly even needing to TELL his bladder that it was time to drain…. He couldn’t recall what that had been like. 

Dwight finished first, and when he did he grew concerned. Kenneth had started before him, but was still going now that he was done… After saying several times that he ‘barely needed to pee right now’. Dwight’s bladder had been causing him a bit of discomfort, he hadn’t been desperate, but his urge had been too great for him to completely ignore… Kenneth had evidently been even fuller than that, yet still not full enough that he thought it really counted as a ‘need’. 
That… Wasn’t a good sign. Meant that Kenneth’s perception of his body’s needs must have been skewed. Warily, Dwight counted off the seconds before Kenneth finished up completely and got up to twenty-five. Nearly half a minute, and Dwight didn’t know how long he’d been going prior to him beginning to count. 

For Dwight, peeing for half a minute straight meant he’d been holding it a while and had probably been fidgeting at least a little. If his stream lasted even longer, that meant he’d been a squirmy, wriggling mess of desperation and had probably barely made it in time. 

But to Kenneth, that level of need was “Oh, I can keep waiting, don’t worry”?! 

That left Dwight feeling rather perturbed, and once more he found himself wondering with equal parts horror and fascination ‘Well, what in the Hell is he feeling when he actually thinks he’s bursting?!’ Dwight knew now for sure that, to Kenneth, the phrase “I feel like I’m going to explode!” must have been extremely literal. He’d known for a long time that Kenneth held in unhealthy amounts of urine regularly, he’d seen him LET OUT unhealthy amounts of urine regularly, after all. Now though… Now it was seeming like he rarely— if ever— took a normal piss instead of a violently gushing one… 

Kenneth smiled at Dwight, unaware of his friend’s concern. “Let’s see if Bryce got the tent up.” 

*** 

The two returned to the clearing. Bryce had, indeed, gotten the tent mostly prepared. Kenneth and Dwight helped him finish it, and by the time it was standing, Kenneth was feeling pretty sweaty and thirsty. He reached into one of the bags they’d brought for a canteen, which he quickly guzzled and replaced with another, full one. 

Bryce’s gaze shifted to Dwight as Kenneth chugged the water. He lowered his voice, “Your friend drinks a lot…” he said. “I have noticed it, quite often.” 

Dwight nodded. “Yeah, he gets thirsty.” 

“I understand when he is just obeying the hydration rules,” Bryce said. “He HAS to do that. But… Other times. When we are out. He still drinks so much even when it’s not required. Does he not consider his—“ 

“It—It’s complicated,” Dwight said. “He has… He’s got all these issues with feeling thirsty. Even a little bit. It bothers him a lot. I’m not sure if I should really explain it all.” 

By the time Kenneth was done, he’d polished off three whole canteens of water, all of that fluid now coursing through his incredibly pee-shy body. Bryce didn’t understand it. He’d always considered Kenneth to be a moron, but surely after enough experiences of desperation he would have learned to take it easy on the water when he could. 

Maybe, Kenneth was less wary now because Bryce and Dwight were the only people out here with him, and he usually didn’t struggle too much with going around either of them anymore. Bryce was pretty sure he HAD just successfully watered a tree a few minutes ago, after all. So, he must have just not been feeling stressed about it here. 

That didn’t explain all the OTHER times Bryce had seen Kenneth chug obscene amounts of water when the idiot knew full well he’d have nowhere to go for a while, though. 

“He’s got all these issues with feeling thirsty. Even a little bit. It bothers him a lot. I’m not sure if I should really explain it all,” Dwight had said. 

Bryce kind of wanted Dwight to explain it, because from where he was standing, it didn’t make sense at all. 

*** 

That night, the three stayed up for a bit and talked. Bryce’s curiosity had been piqued. Kenneth’s behavior was utterly illogical, and Bryce was dying to know if there actually WAS some reasoning behind it. If Kenneth had a health condition that caused a dry throat, or made him dehydrate extra quickly or something, then Bryce would have been informed of it by now. He would have been instructed by his superiors to keep a sharper eye on Kenneth and make sure he drank enough. But, that hadn’t happened. 

So, it must have been something else. 

“Paulson,” Bryce said as the three settled into the tent. Kenneth was in the middle, between Bryce and Dwight, making it easier for Bryce to talk to him. “Why do you drink so much all the time?” 

“I’m supposed to,” Kenneth reminded, annoyed. 

“Not just that,” Bryce said. “Other times. When you DON’T have to follow the regimen, I still always see you drink a lot. Why do you do that when you know you can’t—“ 

“It’s nothing,” Kenneth interrupted sharply. “I just don’t like feeling thirsty.” 

Bryce didn’t think ANYONE liked that feeling, but a slightly parched throat had to be better than the pain of holding gallons of piss like Kenneth routinely did. “I’m just saying, it’s dumb to drink so much if you aren’t gonna be able to let it out later. You probably wouldn’t have so many problems all the time if you—“ 

“Bryce,” Dwight said. “Leave him alone about it. Kenneth can drink as much as he wants.” 

Bryce noticed Kenneth beginning to breathe easier after Dwight said that. “Fine…” Bryce sighed. “Don’t tell me, then.” 

And with that, they fell quiet for the night. Bryce and Dwight quickly started to snore, but Kenneth continued tossing about between them, wide awake. He knew Bryce hadn’t meant to, but bringing up his water drinking habits had made Kenneth uncomfortable. He knew Bryce was right, that it was idiotic that he drank so much when he had so few opportunities to pee, but he really had no choice about it. Thirst was often even worse on him than a full bladder. 

One of the most troubling things about Kenneth’s various trauma-responses was how they interacted with one another. Not only had his Father’s treatment of him made him deeply anxious whenever it came time to void his bladder, other actions his Father had taken had caused Kenneth to view even the slightest feeling of thirst as potentially life-threatening. 

Sometimes, Father seemed to grow bored of hurting Kenneth by forcing him to hold his pee until he could do so no longer, and wanted to bring variety to the manner in which he tormented his child. His Father’s favorite alternative to the bladder torture was to, essentially, do the exact opposite from time to time. 

When Father’s punishment of choice was to make Kenneth pee his pants, then Kenneth would be instructed to drink copious amounts of water. Or, at the very least, his access to water would not be restricted, and he would be allowed to satiate his thirst when necessary; He just wouldn’t be allowed to let any of that water back out later on. 

But, when Father had had enough of causing Kenneth to wet himself, the rules would be changed; Water was forbidden from Kenneth. He could not have even one sip, no matter how desperately he pleaded for it. 

Typically, to make sure Kenneth didn’t sneak around and consume water when it wasn’t allowed, Father placed him inside the hall-closet that constituted his bedroom, and locked the door. The closet got very warm, especially during the Summer, and soon Kenneth would have sweated out every drop of moisture his body had. The corners of his eyes where tears came out would feel like they were having pins poked into them. They’d be so dry. 

Kenneth would become delirious by the end of the first day, and after the second his body would feel so fatigued and weak that he could do nothing but lay on the cramped, dirty floor. Sometimes, he became desperate enough that he tried to lick his own sweat off his body to try and replenish some of his lost fluids. He’d fantasize about biting through his arm to drink his own blood, just to make the horrible feeling in his throat go away for a few seconds. 

Father would occasionally come by the door, he’d kick it hard and talk to Kenneth about how he was having a cold drink, which he’d then proceed to swallow loudly. Sometimes, he would pour a glass of water onto the ground in front of the closet. Kenneth would be able to see the puddle, and it would be just out of his reach as he tried to stretch his tongue out from beneath the crack under the door. 

The only thing worse than holding in too much water was not having enough.

To this day, if Kenneth was ever somewhere that he could not easily get a drink, he felt very nervous. He was anxious as soon as the sensations of thirst first arose, and would feel he needed to stop everything he was doing in order to satiate it. When he felt excessively thirsty, he knew that a lot of it was probably just in his head, but that didn’t stop him from feeling scared that if he didn’t drink NOW he would be denied the opportunity later when he badly needed it. 

When he felt the least bit thirsty, he drank copiously. It was a compulsion. And it was one that did not pair well with his shy bladder. It was always a bad idea for him to drink a lot if he’d be in public for a while, but he HAD to drink a lot because not doing so made him feel too scared. Inevitably, he’d need to relieve himself. Inevitably, he wouldn’t be able to. And sometimes, it was inevitable that he’d have to drink a bit more even WHILE his bladder was screaming at him that he’d had more than enough. 

Kenneth remained awake, staring at the ceiling of the tent as all these memories ran through him. When his sleeping medication finally started to kick in and he felt himself starting to drift off, he also realized that the three canteens of water he’d swallowed earlier were starting to want out. 

He groaned. He was just about to fall asleep. If he got up to piss, he’d have to start the process all over again! Plus, he’d have to wake someone to come with him, and it would be a huge hassle. He’d just try to sleep through it. He’d go in the morning. 

*** 

For the first time, Bryce and Elizabeth BOTH had the day off! Bryce had been ecstatic, and had even worked up the courage to ask her to accompany him into town for lunch. Not only that, she’d said yes! 

He’d brought her to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town, and he did everything right. He got the door for her, he pulled out her chair before she sat down, he’d been cordial and polite… He hoped that meant she’d want to do this again. He hoped that meant she’d maybe want to do other things sometime, too. He’d imagined briefly if, way far off in the future, he could ask her if she had any interest in visiting that special, secret club Bryce sometimes snuck off to. Maybe he’d be lucky, and it would turn out she secretly liked tying people up as much as Bryce secretly liked BEING tied up… 

Before he could hope for that, however, he had to show her what a perfect gentleman he was, and partway through dinner that got a little complicated. Out of nowhere, Bryce suddenly needed the restroom extremely urgently. In just a couple seconds, he went from not needing to pee at all, to feeling like he was about to have urine spurting out the bottoms of his pant-legs soon. He flinched at the sudden pressure sharply jabbing at his urethra, his thighs tightened. 

He could take a bathroom break and still be a polite gentleman. Bryce just needed to say “Excuse me for a moment,” and quietly walk off. No need to tell her what he needed to go do. He could manage that. 

He got away from the table easily enough, but when he found the men’s room it had an enormous line pouring out of it that caused his bladder to shudder. There were dozens of people ahead of him! He couldn’t wait through all that! He was crossing his legs already! 

Bryce considered asking someone to allow him to cut, but pride held him back. He didn’t want to admit to someone that he had to pee so badly he couldn’t handle waiting for his turn like he was supposed to. He couldn’t even make himself confess that to a complete stranger he’d never see again! 

Bryce would wait. It would be okay. He just needed to keep his legs crossed and not think too hard about it. At the very least, the line was moving quickly. A lot faster than he anticipated. But, his BLADDER was also filling at an alarmingly rapid pace. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes since he’d first noticed his need, but now he was already needing to hold himself tightly. He blushed with embarrassment as his fingers wrapped around his dick in front of everyone in the line, but he couldn’t help it. Whenever he tried to let go, he started to leak! 

Bryce gritted his teeth and squirmed, writhing around and stomping his feet as he begged the line to move even faster than it already was. When he looked down at himself, he was alarmed by how much his bladder had swelled. His belt had actually broken apart from trying to contain it, and it seemed to be swelling more and more with each passing second. 

Finally, when Bryce was sure he couldn’t wait any longer, he was at the front of the line. He stared eagerly into the restroom, at the long rows of urinals and stalls. His grip on his leaking dick tightened when he heard a toilet flush, the sound both a wicked tease on his bladder and a promise that relief was mere seconds away. 

A stall door open and a man exited it much too slowly for Bryce’s liking. Once the stall was vacant, Bryce rushed inside of it and noisily guided the lock into place with one hand while the other ripped open his buttons and zipper. He hurriedly yanked his pants down and slammed himself onto the toilet seat— He could feel that this was going to be a very long, very nice piss and he wanted to really relax and enjoy every second of it. His body was already losing tension now that he’d sat down on the thing that was about to grant his bladder its release. 

Bryce exhaled softly and told his taut muscles it was time to loosen up… 

*** 

Bryce squirmed slightly in his sleep, a hand palming his crotch uncomfortably before his eyes slowly drew open. It took him a moment to adjust and remember that he was inside a tent tonight, and after that, he registered the much more important fact that he desperately needed to get up and go water the fuck out of a tree.

Tensing his thighs and feeling the tiniest smidge of dampness between his legs, he knew he’d woken up just in time, too… 

Yawning, Bryce tried to get up and— 

And finally registered that he was pinned down. 

‘What the…’ Bryce was pretty damn close to blind without his glasses, and it was even worse in the dark, so he reached to his side and slid his glasses on. He was then able to see that the weight keeping him on the ground was Kenneth… Whom was… Cuddling him? 

Yes, that was what he was doing, alright. Kenneth was clutching firmly to one of Bryce’s arms and snuggling against it. 

Bryce felt… Kind of funny inside his chest. Nobody had ever cuddled him before… He figured that Kenneth had probably mistaken his warm body for Dwight’s, but still… 

Bryce’s bladder throbbed and he remembered that he couldn’t keep laying here much longer, even if he did kind of… sort of… maybe… almost… enjoy being hugged. He squirmed a little more violently in an attempt to wake Kenneth, but the other didn’t budge. 

He’d heard from Dwight that Kenneth was a bit of a heavy sleeper, the medication he took for his insomnia really knocked him out most nights… The last time Bryce had needed to wake Kenneth up, he’d slapped him hard in the face to get the job done. But somehow, hitting a person that was clinging to his arm and rubbing against him like that just felt wrong. 

Also, something about Kenneth seemed… Off. Kenneth’s brow was scrunched up very tightly, and he seemed to be trembling. It wasn’t very cold tonight, so Bryce didn’t think he was shivering. 

Bryce was starting to tremble a little bit himself. The thrashing in his bladder was really making him want to move, but that was difficult to do in a cramped tent with someone preventing him from getting up. “Paulson…?” Bryce whispered. “Kenneth? Kenneth Paulson, PLEASE wake up, that is an order!” 

Kenneth jolted slightly, but remained asleep, his hands actually tightened around Bryce’s arm, like he was grabbing hold of a life-raft out in the middle of an ocean. It kind of hurt, even! Not that Bryce would ever ADMIT Kenneth was apparently strong enough to bruise his arm… 

Bryce winced, crossing his legs at the ankles. Kenneth NEEDED to wake up and let him up! Bryce couldn’t last all the way until morning, and he’d never hear the end of it if he peed inside the tent. “Paulson!” he said, louder now. “Paulson!” he lowered his voice back down to a whisper. “Kenneth, please? Your superior would really like to take a pee break now…” 

“Mmmn…” Kenneth made a weird, strangled whimpering noise, pressed himself more firmly into Bryce’s side, and now Bryce noted how freaking sweaty Kenneth was… And that he really was trembling an awful lot. 

Was the guy coming down with something? It was like he had a fever and chills. After Bryce thought that, he didn’t feel the least bit happy that Kenneth had ended up hugging him tonight. “Paulson,” Bryce said, jostling the arm Kenneth had attached himself to. “If you do not wake up, I am going to make you march for fifteen hours straight next week. Don’t think I won’t!” 

Kenneth’s eyes did finally fly open. Completely. Suddenly, he was wide awake. 

“Thought that would get you t—“ Bryce cut himself off. 

Kenneth’s chest was heaving up and down violently, and then he was suddenly sitting up, shaking more than ever. 

“Um… Kenneth? You okay?” Bryce asked as he got onto his knees… His bladder cramped at the new position and he pressed his hands against the front of his boxers. Wow, did he ever need to go! Even HE was shocked that, rather than flinging himself from the tent and taking care of his bladder, he was staying in here and checking to see if Kenneth was alright. 

Kenneth didn’t reply, he started to pat his body, his eyes darting in all directions. He looked scared out of his mind, and that made Bryce worry. Was there some sign of danger out here that he’d missed? 

“Kenneth? What is the matter with you?” Bryce whispered sharply. 

Kenneth looked to his other side, saw Dwight still fast asleep there. Kenneth squeezed onto the sleeping man’s hand.

“Paulson, for the love of God, what’s the problem?” 

“N—Nothing…” Kenneth managed between choppy, raspy gasps for air. 

“Paulson, this isn’t ‘nothing’,” Bryce said. 

“Just… A nightmare,” Kenneth said, ashamed. “Well, memory, really. But, it’s over now, and I’m fine.” 

Bryce had had nightmares before, of course. Everyone had. But, he couldn’t recall ever being short of breath like that after one… He saw Kenneth continually glancing at Dwight. He could tell he wanted to wake Dwight up and ask for some sort of comfort, but also didn’t want to disturb his friend. 

“Do you… I can hold you for a second, if it makes you feel better…” Bryce said. “Just, don’t go telling anyone, okay? If anyone asks, you told me you had a bad dream and then I laughed in your face for being childish enough to get upset over it.” 

Kenneth managed a smile and a nod. He needed to be touched by a person that he… Well, a person that he could sometimes halfway tolerate, anyway. “Y—Yes,” he said, before an earlier discomfort began to knock hard against his urethral opening.”Uh—um… But we can’t for long. I need to… Do something…” 

Even though Kenneth wasn’t biting his hands, Bryce still had a pretty good idea of what that ‘something’ was. There were very few things a person would ever need to do in the middle of the night. “That’s okay, I want to do ‘something’ too,” Bryce said. “But, you’re a lot less fun to annoy when you’re like this, so come here.” 

Slowly and awkwardly, Kenneth came closer to Bryce. “Y—You’re sure?” he asked nervously. 

“Yes,” Bryce promised. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Here he was, dying for a piss, and instead of flinging himself in front of the nearest tree he was going to stay put and cuddle Kenneth— Freaking Kenneth!— until he felt better! 

Kenneth rested his head on Bryce’s shoulder nervously, feeling the tension present within it. He didn’t know if Bryce was trembling because he too found it strange to be doing this, or if it was just because he had to go. Bryce didn’t feel like Dwight did. Dwight felt so familiar, Kenneth knew Dwight’s body as well as he knew his own. Snuggling him felt natural. 

Bryce wasn’t the same, he was far more rigid than Dwight was, he lacked the softness Kenneth had grown accustomed to in his friend. Bryce was warm though, at least. He was very warm. Warm enough that Kenneth wished he could just go back to sleep. His bladder was making it very clear that it had no plans to allow that, however. It had been throbbing ever since he’d woken up, and rather than dying down the more he ignored it, it just kept getting worse. He would absolutely not be able to get any more rest until after he’d relieved himself. 

Not that Kenneth particularly wanted to risk another dream like the one he’d just woken up from. Kenneth didn’t understand why dreams were necessary, most of the time they just tormented him by showing him events whose only redeeming qualities were the fact they were now over. 

Then whenever he had a dream that WASN’T terrifying, he usually woke up with sticky sheets and would struggle to look at Dwight without blushing for a few hours. 
Why did dreams have to exist? Kenneth wished he could simply close his eyes, fall asleep, and have NOTHING be displayed to him in that time. Sleeping would be so much easier then! 

Bryce’s bladder was shouting at him now, demanding to know why in the Hell he was choosing to snuggle this moron when his time would be much better spent peeing. Bryce didn’t understand why he was doing it, either. Kenneth was an irritating little thorn in his ass, why did he care if the man had a bad dream? Why did it matter to him so much? Kenneth deserved to have nightmares because HE could be a nightmare to deal with sometimes— 

No. No, that was wrong. Bryce knew it was wrong the second he thought it. Kenneth’s nightmares weren’t merely dreams, after all. They weren’t just figments of his imagination. They were memories. Memories of awful, horrible, terrible things that no human being deserved to endure. Kenneth didn’t deserve to still be tormented by the ghost of a man that was now dead and gone to Hell where he belonged. 

Feeling Kenneth starting to shudder, Bryce struggled to figure out if the cause was his bladder or whatever horrifying images his brain had supplied him with tonight. Assuming it was the latter, Bryce’s arms began to act on their own accord. That was the only explanation, his limbs had grown a mind of their own and were moving in ways Bryce himself would never have allowed them to. 

That was the only reason Bryce’s arms were wrapping themselves around Kenneth’s body. That was the only reason he was pulling Kenneth into his lap right now. That was the only reason he was pressing the two of them together so tightly. 
If Kenneth disliked the increased level of contact, he didn’t act like it, he even nuzzled his head against Bryce’s chest. Kenneth too could not believe he was actually doing this. Bryce was such a jackass! Bryce was one of the biggest dickheads Kenneth knew! But, Bryce was also holding him. Bryce was also rubbing his back. Bryce was also making him feel so safe and protected after his dream had made him feel so vulnerable and scared. 

Bryce’s thighs tensed, doing their best to squeeze his pee-hole shut between them. Kenneth didn’t weigh MUCH, but he weighed enough to upset Bryce’s bladder as he sat on his lap. ‘You have to piss!’ Bryce’s brain screamed. ‘Ditch the little moron and go do it!’ 

Bryce ignored that voice. Kenneth’s eyes were still wide open, his teeth were still chattering… And, he knew Kenneth also had to go. Bryce would have to take him out of the tent with him when he went and then help him settle down. Kenneth still seemed far too terrified to brave the dark wilderness right now. 

“Paulson…?” Bryce asked. “Can you tell me what your dream was about?” 

“I… Um…” Kenneth struggled. When he was little, it had been very hard to tell Dwight what was happening inside his house. He’d been too… Well, not ashamed, but sort of ‘uneasy’, to explain all of it. It had also been difficult to tell Bryce even small details about how he’d been forced to grow up. Most of the time, Bryce only found out about those things because Kenneth had recounted a story that he assumed was perfectly normal, only to learn from the reactions of other people that it hadn’t been normal at all. “When you asked about the water stuff, it made me think about… Some things.” he said. 

“What things?” Bryce said. “You can tell me. If it’s something bad, I promise I won’t make fun of you about it.” 

So, Kenneth tried to explain it, he tried to paint a picture of a little boy being denied water as his body slowly shut down and his Father laughed and laughed while he struggled to remain standing. “So… That’s why I drink so much, even though I have… The other thing.” 

Bryce stroked Kenneth’s back gently. Something gnawed away inside his chest, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that it must have been sympathy. To be unable to tolerate even a mild sensation of thirst while also having a bladder that refused to empty when he desperately needed it to must have been absolutely atrocious. 

“I just… I wish that if I HAD to have… These… Things,” Kenneth said. “I wish it could be just ONE of them without the other. I hate having to deal with them both, having to figure out how to work them around one another. Because, if I don’t drink water whenever I know I can, I’m… I actually get really scared. But, I always know that if I DO drink it, it’s going to be… Stuck there.” 

Bryce struggled to imagine what it would be like if his brain constantly told him to do something that he knew was going to cause him pain later on. He struggled to imagine what it would be like to have to constantly perform a careful balancing act between two of his body’s most basic needs. Bryce had never had to think too hard about it, when he felt thirsty, he’d drink something if it was available but wouldn’t stress out too much if it wasn’t. When he was instructed to hydrate, he did so without a second thought as to where it would all end up.

He was thinking about where all his water ended up at the moment, though. It still wanted to come out pretty badly, and now Kenneth had shifted over in such a way that he was placing even more of his weight against Bryce’s bladder. It felt like an anvil was resting on top of his bladder, trying to press it down and force everything out into his boxers. His body was shrieking at him that he needed to shove Kenneth’s weight off of himself, needed to rush from the tent and up to a tree, needed to relax his tired muscles and go… 

But, Kenneth needed… Kenneth needed someone to comfort him, and Bryce was the only person awake to do it. Bryce was never the best at big, emotional things like this. He never knew what he was meant to say when someone confided something like this to him. “I’m sorry,” always felt stupid, because what was HE apologizing for? He was not responsible. “It’s okay,” also felt wrong, because clearly if the other person was so upset then it WASN’T okay. Bryce just didn’t talk about feelings. He didn’t “do” feelings. 

“Kenneth…” Bryce struggled, tensing his thighs up since it was about the only thing he could do to soothe his bladder at that point. His hands were still busy holding onto Kenneth, and he couldn’t move his legs without pushing the other man away. “I…” He still couldn’t think of anything to say. It was even harder to communicate meaningfully with someone when his body was begging for him to just let it pee instead. 

“For me, feeling thirsty is… It’s actually a lot WORSE than needing to go,” Kenneth said. “I guess… Maybe it’s because I know I probably won’t actually die from holding it, but I’ve come… Really, really close to dying from dehydration a couple times, I’m pretty sure. A few times when Father did that, my body just…” Kenneth looked down. “It didn’t feel right at all. I could barely see, there were all these dark spots around my vision. Everything was cramping, I was hallucinating…” 

Bryce hadn’t known that Kenneth had ever been right at the precipice of death. He supposed he should have assumed, with what knowledge he did have of Kenneth’s childhood and of his Father, he should have been able to guess that the bastard had come close to outright murdering him at least once. ‘A few times’, Kenneth had said. He’d nearly died on multiple occasions, when he’d been only a child. And, for all Bryce knew, the water-deprivation torture hadn’t even been the ONLY form of abuse to almost kill him. How many near-death experiences had Kenneth survived? 

How could a human being do that to a child, to their own flesh and blood? Bryce’s dad had punished him when he misbehaved, usually by making him do extra chores. Nothing that could have resulted in his death, and only when Bryce had actually DONE something to warrant it. Near as Bryce could tell, Kenneth’s Father subjected him to constant pain for no other reason than he just thought it was fun. 

The man had been pure evil, Bryce decided. But… ‘HAD been’. He was dead now. But, he still had so much power over his victim… So much of Kenneth’s behavior seemed to have come from a single source. Was that… Well, no it couldn’t have been normal, because what HAPPENED to Kenneth wasn’t normal. But, there were probably other people who grew up with a monster for a parent, did they too continue to suffer long after their demon had been cast into Hell? 

Why was Kenneth still being affected so much by a dead man? 

Bryce wished he could think more clearly, he was too preoccupied to figure out the answers to questions that were as big as these. “Was… Was that what your nightmare was about?” 

“The dream was about how… Um” Kenneth tightened his grip on Bryce’s shoulders, shifted again and put even MORE pressure onto his bladder. 

Bryce didn’t care. He’d hold it until he exploded if it maybe helped Kenneth break free from his Father’s ghost. “You can tell me,” he whispered. 

“It was… Once on a very, very hot day, instead of putting me into the closet like normal, Father made me stand in front of the glass window. During the winter, I wasn’t allowed to wear warm pajamas and stuff, but Father went and bought some just for this. He made me wear these super thick footed-pajamas, and just… Stand there in the sun all day. There was nothing to drink, and I got so sweaty that the pajamas squished whenever I shifted around. Then, at the end of the day Father finally gave me a glass of water.” 

“So, he ended it early that time?” 

Kenneth shook his head, “No. I— I took one sip, and it was worse than if he hadn’t given me any at all. He started laughing at me and told me how he’d…. He’d put a bunch of salt into it and stirred it up… He told me I was so stupid for trying to drink it, and so to punish me he had me swallow all the rest and it burned so much going down and I was so dizzy… And then he locked me in the closet.” 

“I hate your Father,” Bryce said. “He should have never had a child.” And then he felt Kenneth go stiff. 

Bryce first remembered how Kenneth too had expressed a need to empty his bladder, and worried that he’d now overflowed. But, Bryce didn’t feel any dampness collecting in his lap. Good thing too, at this point he didn’t think he’d be able to tell for sure if the leak had come out of him or Kenneth. 

Kenneth wasn’t wetting himself, so— 

Oh. 

“Kenneth, no,” Bryce said. “I really… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m… I do like that YOU are here. I just meant… I meant that you should have been born to a father that deserved to have a kid, you know? You should have had a dad like mine, that’s all I meant.” 

Kenneth was surprised and touched that Bryce actually WOULDN’T prefer to live in a universe where he’d been spontaneously erased from existence. “I wish I’d had a better Father too,” he said. “And I wish that I could forget about everything mine did to me.” 

Was that a solution, Bryce wondered. In some of his favorite science fiction stories, people would have their brains erased. He didn’t think that could happen in real life, though. And, usually in the books, something would go wrong with the mind-wiping process and bad things would happen, anyway. So, it probably wasn’t a good idea to do that to someone. 

It did make Bryce realize something he hadn’t before; Kenneth’s problems, while they manifested in a lot of physical ways such as his bladder shyness, all seemed to really be located inside his brain. That should have been obvious all along too, but any other time someone was sick or injured, it was completely physical. It could be treated with medicine or bandages and after a few days the person would be fine. 

Kenneth was injured very badly, but no amount of bandages would fix it, because the hurt was all in his brain. 

He thought of Elizabeth and the other medics. Bryce had never heard of a doctor that fixed people’s brains, unless things like concussions and head injuries counted. But, maybe he’d never heard of it because he’d never had a reason to ask. Maybe Bryce and Dwight just needed to take Kenneth to see a medic, and they’d give him whatever it was he needed to heal all the damage inside his mind. Maybe, all this time, he’d just needed a shot of some kind and then he’d be able to pee whenever he wanted, his anger would be easily controlled, he’d be able to sleep through the night without succumbing to terrifying dreams… Maybe it really had been just that simple all along, but nobody had thought to ask. 

“When we get back,” Bryce said. “I’m going to take you to talk to Elizabeth. I’m sorry I never thought of it before, but I think she might be able to give you medicine that makes all of this go away.” 

Bryce was startled when Kenneth pressed face into his chest and almost… sort of… cuddled him. Bryce was so startled that a little spurt of pee broke loose into his boxers. 

“You think so?” Kenneth asked. 

“I do,” Bryce promised. “I’m sure we can make you better… Now, uh… I still have to go, remember?” 

Kenneth did remember, and now he remembered his OWN need as well. He’d been able to push it into the back of his mind for a while, but now it was back and very angry with him for ignoring it. “Y—Yes, I… Um… I still don’t want to wake Dwight, could you…” 

Bryce nodded. He knew what Kenneth was asking him for. “I’ll… Do that whole… thing for you if you need it,” he assured. “But, just think; Once we know what medicine you’ve got to take, you won’t NEED that help ever again!” 

As Bryce led the way out of the tent, Kenneth thought about that; He thought about freedom. No more bad dreams, no more fits of anger, no more holding his bladder until he was sobbing in agonizing pain. He’d be able to sleep soundly. He’d be able to control his temper. He’d be able to just… Pee when he had to. No more planning every day around when and where he’d empty his bladder, he’d be capable of doing it in any restroom, on any tree… He’d be normal. He’d be fixed. 

Bryce stopped in front of a large bush, and Kenneth saw that his superior now had a hand pressing into his crotch and wasn’t quite standing up all the way. “O—Okay, um… Is this an okay spot?” 

The bush wasn’t exactly private, but nowhere out here was, and from the looks of Bryce he wasn’t going to be too eager to walk much further without peeing first. Kenneth didn’t want to keep walking anymore, either. His thighs had been squeezing together the whole time, and his knees were beginning to bow inwards. Relief was beyond necessary at this point.“It’s fine,” he said. 

“Good,” Bryce mumbled, beginning to lower his boxers a little. He stopped, glancing towards Kenneth. “Um… I—“ 

“You have to go first?” Kenneth guessed. It was fairly obvious, though. Even in the dark Kenneth could make out how tightly Bryce’s hand was squeezing onto his cock. 

“W—Well, no,” Bryce stammered, hoping that the pitch black of the night covered up his blush well enough. He could MAYBE hold it until after Kenneth went, but he doubted it. The sound of Kenneth’s stream ALWAYS got him crossing his legs, even if he hadn’t needed to go before hearing it. If he had to listen to that NOW he’d most likely get at least a little damp… “I don’t HAVE to, I’d just LIKE to.” 

Kenneth bit down on a laugh that he was sure would send his bladder into convulsions. “You can…” 

“Oh, thank God…” Bryce murmured, turning back to the bush and pulling his cock out over the waistband of his boxers. Immediately, a thin jet of clear urine blasted from his tip to begin soaking the leaves of the bush. “Ahhh….” He smiled softly to himself, then shifted his gaze back to Kenneth. “N—Not that I couldn’t have still held it! Because, I definitely could have!” 

Kenneth had no desire to laugh then, he could hear every drop of Bryce’s release loud and clear, and his bladder begged for a pair of ear plugs. He rocked back and forth on his feet, jiggled up and down as he gnawed his hands… But all of it was useless, listening to Bryce pee was too awful a tease on his own body, and a quick spurt splashed into his pajama bottoms. Followed by another. And another. And—

And, he clumsily unfastened the button on his pajamas, freed his cock and aimed into the bush. Tiny pulses of liquid kept beading out his urethra, but the waves he wanted to spray out wouldn’t come. His leakage brought him no relief, and the dribbles were so weak they splattered dismally between his feet instead of arcing out into the bush. In spite of all previous experience telling him that it wouldn’t help, that it would only hurt, he smashed a palm over his midsection and immediately whimpered with agony when his stream still refused to build. 

Bryce was lost in his own relief, he’d needed this so much… He was shocked at himself for continuing to hold it in all for the sake of that moron… Something must have broken his brain, that was it. It couldn’t have been that he gave one eighth of a dead moose’s last sneeze about the little idiot. Definitely not. He didn’t care what happened to— 

It then registered that Kenneth was right next to him, trying very, VERY hard to start watering the bush as well… But, he wasn’t managing it. All that was coming out were a few shuddering trickles. And he was mashing his hand against his bladder area, obviously only succeeding in causing himself more agony… 

‘Freaking idiot… He should know by now that doesn’t work, surely?’ Bryce thought. Barely thinking about it, Bryce used the hand not guiding his cock to reach over and grab Kenneth’s hand, tugging it away from his bloated abdomen. “Stop that, you moron,” Bryce muttered. “You’re hurting yourself.” To keep Kenneth from trying to do that stupid thing again, Bryce continued holding his hand, squeezing it tightly as he kept peeing. “I’ll help you in a minute, just let me fini—“ 

PSSSSHHHHHH!!! 

“Ahhhhh…!” Kenneth moaned as his painful dripping finally gave way to a waterfall of relief. His stream hissed violently into the bush, hard enough the leaves were shaking, and immediately he felt a billion times better. 

Bryce’s teeth clenched together as an intense blush spread across his face. Did… Did holding his hand make that happen? God, Bryce was holding his hand… Why was he holding his freaking hand? He didn’t dare let go of it now, if gripping it HAD been the thing to relax Kenneth enough to pee, then he didn’t want to release it and risk the other clamping back shut again— Cutting off the flow midstream hurt so badly, Bryce didn’t want to subject anyone to that awful of a feeling! 

Kenneth at first wanted to let go of Bryce’s hand, but he too was worried that releasing it would take his ability to relieve himself back away from him. He wanted to make sure he could go and go and go until he was finally finished. 

Bryce’s stream was the first to cease and he was able to get his cock back into his boxers fairly easily with one hand, but then he realized with some awkwardness that he was now going to have to stay here, gripping Kenneth’s hand, until the other was completely emptied. As he had been many times before, Bryce was shocked by the quantity of liquid Kenneth could hold back. He didn’t think he’d ever stop being surprised by it. 

It took nearly another full minute before Kenneth was finished. Then, he released Bryce’s hand and put his dick away, shivering a bit. “That was… Um… Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been so nice to me tonight. Why?” 

Bryce didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know the answer. He couldn’t understand why he’d chosen to be so kind tonight, all things considered he really shouldn’t have been; Thanks to Kenneth, Bryce had lost a lot of sleep and gotten very desperate to pee. He should have been angry about all of that, but he wasn’t. He’d gotten plenty angry at Kenneth when one of his pranks had cost him sleep… 

‘Yes, but he CHOSE to bother you those times,’ Bryce reminded himself. ‘He does not choose to have nightmares.’ 

He supposed that must have been it. When Kenneth annoyed him deliberately, of course he was upset. When Kenneth actually needed something, Bryce didn’t mind no matter how annoying it was to deal with. “I… I guess, because I could tell you really needed someone there tonight. I don’t know.” He yawned. “Think you can go back to sleep okay now?” 

“Y—Yes,” Kenneth said.

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8 hours ago, secretomoact said:

People who ship Kenneth and Bryce might enjoy this one... 

This particular people definitely enjoyed this one VERY much ❤️❤️❤️ 

seriously the noise I made was not human lol. And I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't all that CUDDLING!!! And Kenneth pushing his face into Bryce's chest!!!!!!!!!!! Wahhh!!!!!!11 AND Kenneth opening up to Bryce about his nightmares and his past wahh!!! Fuck, what a good thing to come on here and find. 

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42 minutes ago, astralis said:

This particular people definitely enjoyed this one VERY much ❤️❤️❤️ 

seriously the noise I made was not human lol. And I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't all that CUDDLING!!! And Kenneth pushing his face into Bryce's chest!!!!!!!!!!! Wahhh!!!!!!11 AND Kenneth opening up to Bryce about his nightmares and his past wahh!!! Fuck, what a good thing to come on here and find. 

Awesome! There should be plenty more sweet moments between them to come! 

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  • 4 weeks later...

Sorry for taking so long to update anything, I was having surgery. 

*** 

The next morning, the very first thing Dwight did was frantically feel the material between his legs, checking for any dampness. 

The second thing he did was rush out of the tent when the dry feeling of his boxers and the absolutely horrid bloat inside his bladder confirmed to him that he was definitely still containing every last drop of liquid that had accumulated in him through the night. 

That was another thing; Ever since his bedwetting issue had appeared, every morning that he awoke dry would mean that he was absolutely brimming with pee. It didn’t USED to be that way. Before, he’d make it through the night without going and he’d certainly wake up needing the restroom quite a bit, but not so desperate for it that he felt on the edge of doing it in his clothes from the moment his eyes first cracked open. Now, if he managed to keep his sheets dry, he tended to only have about five minutes after waking before he’d burst and flood himself anyway. 

This had become something of a problem. It wasn’t fun to barely have the time to wipe all the sleep from his eyes and rid himself of his remaining grogginess before having to start RUSHING somewhere. And, if Kenneth had gotten up first and was in the restroom already, it was horrible having to wait on him to finish… Granted, THAT only happened a couple times, after which Kenneth ALWAYS kept the door unlocked for him and never seemed too upset if Dwight ran in and started peeing right beside him. Each time Dwight was forced to resort to that, he thanked God that he was the only person on Earth whom Kenneth didn’t mind urinating side by side with. 

At least, out in the woods, things like making it all the way to the toilet and hoping Kenneth remembered to leave the door unlocked didn’t matter. Dwight could go wherever he wanted. He took only a few quick steps away from the tent and over to a bush, then his shaky hands fiddled with the button on his boxers for a second before losing a spurt of his burden and deciding he didn’t want to mess with that anymore— He simply yanked them down and let them bunch up around his ankles, his pee spraying out as soon as the fabric was no longer in the way. The pangs in his center dissipated, his taut muscles snapping and immediately going loose. He exhaled contentedly through his nose. 

This was nice… It was so peaceful out here, the breeze felt good on his exposed skin, and his body was being taken care of. He didn’t even have to worry about aiming outside, so just let his arms dangle at his sides as he carried on draining. The woods were so quiet this early in the morning, no creatures scuttling about, just the soft rustle of the leaves in the wind— 

“Smith, for God’s sake!” he heard Bryce yell. “Are you five?” 

Dwight glanced over his shoulder back towards the tent. “Hm?” 

“You— Why would you pull them down all the way!?” Bryce snapped. “Have you no shame, or—“ 

“Bryyyce,” Kenneth whined from inside the tent. “I’m trying to sleep!” 

“Sleep-time is over, Paulson. We have things to do.” 

“But… We are supposed to have the day OFF today?” Kenneth groaned as he dragged himself outside. “What are you bitching about anywa—“ Kenneth stopped abruptly, staring at Dwight as his friend’s stream finally tapered off to a stop. Kenneth had seen Dwight naked plenty of times now, but there was something different about seeing him that way while bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun… Kenneth started to blush, he brought his hands up to shield his heated face. 

“Wow, Smith,” Bryce said. “Even your friend is embarrassed for you right now, look at his face.” 

Dwight pulled his boxers back up. “It’s not a big deal, Bryce,” he sighed. “No one else was awake and I couldn’t get the button loose.” 

“Well, we’re awake NOW,” Bryce said. “And neither of us wants to see your ass first thing in the morning. Right, Paulson?” 

“Uh— Um…” Kenneth’s eyes darted over to Bryce as he tried to remember how words worked. And tried to forget about how much he disagreed with Bryce’s statement. Tried to forget about how Dwight had looked… And how he still looked now with just his boxers loosely covering him, and his chest free and exposed, and— 

No. 

Please— God… Fuck. Nononononono— 

It was too late, Kenneth could already feel the effects of a sudden displacement of blood, and his hands hurried around to his front, pressing over his crotch as he blurted “I— I forgot something important, Bryce! I can’t— I need to go get it RIGHT now—“ and he was rushing back into the tent.

Once alone, he looked down at his lap— Christ, why did his pajama pants have to be so THIN, and why did they need to be GREY. His current… Issue was highlighted so prominently, and it wasn’t going away, either. 

There was… One way he could get rid of it easily, but Bryce and Dwight were both right out there, and any sounds Kenneth ended up making would be so obvious. He just had to wait this out… Adding onto his problem, he actually needed to pee pretty badly— He HAD just woken up after all— and he’d never been able to get himself to piss while he’d had an erection. THAT was going to have to wait a while, too. 

He’d told Bryce he had to get something out of the tent, so he started rummaging around and pretending he was searching for a lost item. 

“Paulson?” Bryce called. “Can you not find it? Want me to help?” 

“Nah—NO!” Kenneth cried. “Stay out there, stay out there!” 

“Are you okay?” Bryce asked. “You sound upset. You didn’t have more nightmares, did you?” 

“Nope! No more nightmares!” 

“Nightmares?” he heard Dwight ask. 

FUCK. Hearing Dwight’s voice wasn’t helping Kenneth out right now! How had he never noticed how much he loved the sound of his voice before?! 

Outside the tent, Bryce turned to Dwight. “Yeah, he had a bad dream last night about his Father. I had to help him feel better.” 

Dwight went a little rigid. His fingertips twitched and fizzed, like the feeling he got when his hand had gone to sleep. This was the same protective feeling he always had for his friend, but mixed with something new and deeply unpleasant. “What did you do?” 

Bryce blushed and chewed on his lip. Dwight was sure to make fun of him for this… Allowing his nemesis to curl up in his arms for an hour didn’t fit well with his image, after all. “I… You know, I kind of held him for a while.” 

That awful feeling in Dwight’s body and mind grew. Why… Why hadn’t Kenneth woken HIM up? Surely, Bryce was just a poor substitute for him, right? Why settle for Bryce when HE’D been right there!? “You should have gotten me up,” he said tersely. “I know how to help him with that kind of thing.” 

“Um, okay?” Bryce said, confused. “I was just already awake. So, we let you sleep. I thought you’d prefer a full night’s sleep.” 

“Next time, get me up,” Dwight said. “I know what Kenneth needs. I was THERE with him when he was growing up, YOU weren’t. You don’t know what I know.” 

“I was just trying to help,” Bryce said. “Jeez, you tell me and the little pissant to try to get along better all the time. I thought you’d be happy.” 

Dwight knew Bryce was right, and that he SHOULD have been happy about Bryce doing something so kind, but there was something about the image of Bryce cuddling Kenneth that REALLY made him uncomfortable. Had Kenneth thought Dwight would be angry if he’d been woken up? He shouldn’t have thought that at all! Dwight thought he’d always been very clear that Kenneth could ask him for anything at any time. Did Kenneth need some kind of a reminder of how much Dwight cared about him? 

Dwight decided that he probably DID need something like that. The fact Kenneth had been rummaging around in the tent for so long now and STILL hadn’t asked Dwight for help was proof that Kenneth, for whatever reason, believed Dwight was fed up with assisting him and no longer wanted to be ‘bothered’. He just needed to show his friend that he really would do ANYTHING for him. 

Kenneth finally crawled back out of the tent, holding an empty canteen. “Um… Yes. Found it now,” he said. 

“Took you long enough,” Bryce said. “Do you need your eyes checked?” 

“Um… I was also… Doing… Um… Some morning exercises. Stretches and stuff,” Kenneth stammered. 

“Inside of that tiny tent,” Bryce said. 

“… Yes.” 

“Okay…” 

“Um…” Kenneth set the canteen down on the ground now, tapping a foot. He needed his morning piss now, and there was no way he’d be able to get it out without someone keeping watch and calming him down. But, he’d only JUST gotten his body to… settle. If Dwight started to touch him and massage his back, his problem would return immediately. 

When Bryce helped him, it usually took a lot longer for him to actually go… But there was also no risk of his body… reacting like that to being touched by Bryce. So, he was the option with the least potential for embarrassment right now. “Bryce… I… I have to relieve myself. Could you… Um… While Dwight gets dressed?” 

Bryce sighed, “Fine…” he groaned, but by now the complaint was just for show. He knew as well as Kenneth did that he didn’t really mind doing this anymore. And, he hadn’t peed yet this morning either, so it wasn’t like it was going to be a waste of time. 

“Wait,” Dwight said. “I can—“ 

“Don’t worry,” Kenneth said quickly. “Bryce can do it.” 

And the two headed into the foliage, leaving Dwight alone and wondering what the Hell he’d done wrong. Why didn’t Kenneth want him anymore? Had Bryce done something last night that had somehow made Kenneth happier than anything Dwight had ever done for him? How could that even be possible? Kenneth called Bryce a jerk at least forty times a day, how could he possibly be replacing his best friend with him all of the sudden!?

Had Dwight done something that made Kenneth think he didn’t care anymore? Dwight couldn’t figure out what that could have been, but he knew he needed to prove his friend’s worries wrong as soon as possible! What would make Kenneth see that he’d do anything and everything for him?! 

Bryce was doing… THEIR thing, their special thing, the thing that was just for them! Dwight was supposed to be the only person Kenneth trusted enough for it to work, and it wasn’t until now when that was suddenly GONE that Dwight realized how much it had meant to him. 

He— 

Dwight knew how to prove his devotion. Bryce seldom put his own needs above someone else’s, but Dwight DID. 

Today, Dwight wasn’t going to pee again until after Kenneth already had. He’d feel his friend’s desperation alongside him, and that would show how much he really cared. 

Of course, Dwight would not TELL Kenneth any of these things. He wouldn’t mention how upset he was that Kenneth didn’t wake him last night. He wouldn’t bring up how Kenneth’s unusual avoidance of him this morning had hurt him. And he certainly wouldn’t let Kenneth know that he planned to hold his pee today out of solidarity with him, because THAT would definitely make Kenneth feel pressured and make it harder for him to go. 

*** 

Since they all had the day off, the three went into town together. It didn’t take long for Dwight to start feeling some urge to relieve himself, along with a nagging feeling in his head that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Kenneth had an enormous bladder that was conditioned to hold its contents for grotesque lengths of time. Dwight, meanwhile, had a much weaker and smaller one. Even when compared to people OTHER than Kenneth— people with average bladders that could empty them fairly regularly— Dwight usually needed to go more often. 

Back when they’d been in training, doing long marches or drills with few breaks in between them, Dwight had always been the first to begin pleading with their commander for a chance to relieve himself… He’d come so close to an accident so many times in those days. 

And, Dwight REALLY hated the feeling of holding it. He hated the tingles around the base of his cock, he hated the pressure in his midsection, he hated having to focus his energy on keeping his liquid inside of himself where it belonged. He generally always went as soon as an opportunity presented itself. 

He, Bryce and Kenneth were sitting in the cafe now and, had he not made a vow to hold it in today, he probably would have left the table to join the line for the men’s room already. As it was, he just stayed in his chair and tried not to fidget or look too uncomfortable. That was another thing he had to remember today, Kenneth couldn’t find out he was doing this for him, it would stress him out too much. So, Dwight had to make sure that he didn’t allow it to become obvious he needed to pee. No squirming, no leg-crossing, and definitely none of his usual whines and groans regarding how badly he wanted to use the restroom. 

He wasn’t near the level where he’d have to do any of those things yet, but knowing how full Kenneth’s bladder had to get before he’d even start CONSIDERING a bathroom break, Dwight knew he’d be fighting hard not to double over by the time relief finally came. 

Speaking of relief, Dwight was feeling a little better about the status of his and Kenneth’s relationship now. As they waited on their orders, Kenneth was speaking nonstop to him, just like always. Kenneth was acting like he HADN’T just spent the entire morning trying to avoid him. But, then when Dwight gently rested his hand on top of his friend’s, Kenneth’s eyes flicked over to Bryce for a moment and he quickly withdrew it and stuck it in his lap. 

‘He just doesn’t want Bryce to find out, you moron,’ Dwight’s rational side argued. ‘Stop worrying about this.’ 

‘What if he doesn’t want Bryce to find out because he likes Bryce BETTER than you?’ the new, and far less rational part of Dwight’s brain supplied. Dwight hadn’t even known this area of his mind existed until this morning, but he really wished it would go away and leave him alone. He didn’t like the way it was making him feel, and he didn’t like the way it was trying to persuade him that he actually WANTED Bryce and Kenneth to start feuding with one another non-stop again. 

Somehow, Dwight thought that if he just heard Kenneth say the words “I love you” to him again, all these bad, twisting feelings in his stomach and chest would go away immediately. But, Kenneth couldn’t say those words to him out here in public, with Bryce and all of the people at the neighboring tables right there to hear him do it… 

Kenneth had been taking small sips out of his water glass and Dwight had been watching very carefully. This was probably terrible of him, but he was hoping his friend had a lot to drink while they were here. The quicker Kenneth’s bladder filled, the better today would be for Dwight. “Are you thirsty, Kenneth?” Dwight asked. “If you want something more tasty to drink—“ 

“Can you ask if they have that soda I like?” Kenneth requested. 

“Of course,” Dwight said. He sure hoped this cafe had that… Kenneth would DEFINITELY drink way more than his bladder could accommodate if they did. Dwight approached the counter and asked, happy to hear that the soda was in stock. He got a few cans for Kenneth and brought them back. “I got you a bunch, since I know how much you like them,” he said. 

Kenneth smiled and opened the first one, beginning to guzzle it. 

Bryce watched as Kenneth poured the entire can down his throat. Even after hearing Kenneth explain his thirst anxieties the previous night, he still struggled to rationalize how a man that struggled so much with public urination that it brought him to tears on a regular basis could then turn around and willingly drink half his own weight in orange soda while out in public… 

Dwight was happy to see Kenneth drinking so eagerly, and his bladder was pleased as well. In the time he’d been seated here, his urge had continued to grow. He was wary of his own beverage, not wanting to put more fluid into his body when he didn’t know how long he’d have to KEEP it in there. 

Kenneth finished the sodas quickly, and Dwight smiled at him. Good. Four cans of soda soon to be stretching out his bladder; And he was likely going to finish off his glass of water as well. This might not be so bad. Kenneth may whisper to him “I really have to go now, Dwight…” before Dwight even had to worry about his own need becoming obvious. 

By the time they’d finished lunch, Dwight had been tapping his foot against the floor for quite a while, grateful for the cover of the tablecloth. Thanks to that thing, he could wriggle his legs as much as he wanted to without anyone seeing. He was dreading having to stand up and lose that shield. 

By complete accident, Dwight had finished his full glass of water, all of it now coursing through his body and headed directly for his already annoyed bladder. As he’d eaten his food, he’d watched as the line for the men’s room dwindled until it had completely disappeared and he could now very easily just walk in there and be fully relieved within a matter of seconds. He kept needing to drag his eyes back away from that door and the inviting sign affixed to it. The sign promised him comfort, relaxation and the ability to uncross his legs without his urethral opening starting to throb with little twitchy pangs of need. 

Each time he managed to stop staring at the restroom, he’d look back at Kenneth. He’d check his friend for signs that those sodas had reached his bladder. Dwight was incredibly skilled at picking up on when Kenneth needed to pee. Sometimes, he thought HE could tell that Kenneth needed the restroom before Kenneth had even realized it himself.

Kenneth stood from the table first. He didn’t like sitting around for long, especially when he had the day off. He was always full of energy and excited to find his next activity. When he got up, he felt a pressure pulsing in his middle and thought back to all the soda he’d just had… They were going to have to come back out eventually, he knew. 

Not here, though. The cafe was too crowded, and the door to the restroom had been continually swinging open and shut the whole time he’d been here. There was no way he’d have the room to himself, and therefor, no way he’d be able to go. 

He didn’t HAVE to go that much, anyway. It was way too soon to even be considering it, he just needed to stop thinking about it and it would fade into the background soon enough. Worst case scenario; he ended up needing to pee in one of the showers at the bathhouse again… He sure HOPED it didn’t come to that, however; As triumphant as that day had been for Kenneth, he knew Bryce wouldn’t see it as something to be proud of, and he also knew Bryce would never let him hear the end of it if he found out. 

Bryce stood as well, he made a big show of looking at his fingertips, then remarked that the sandwich he’d eaten had gotten them greasy and he needed to go to the restroom and wash them off. 

Dwight watched Bryce depart, not believing for a second that he only wanted to wash his hands. No doubt Bryce was about to do the thing Dwight was starting to get a tad desperate for… He got up, and tried to keep the wincing grimace off his face as the motion shook his bladder up like a can of soda, trying to force it to erupt. Against his will, his eyes settled on the restroom door as it swung shut behind Bryce. He even felt some of the muscles in his bladder area going loose, his body certain that he was planning to FOLLOW Bryce now. Instead, he tensed his thighs together and told himself he needed to wait. 

Maybe… 

He stepped closer to Kenneth and whispered, “Um… Do you need to go, too?” he asked. 

Kenneth blushed and grew rigid. Even if the question had been asked softly, it still sounded too loud to Kenneth’s ears, and he convinced himself everyone here must have heard it. “I’m fine, shhhh…” he hushed. 

Dwight’s knees rubbed together in a way he hoped looked normal. His heart sank with disappointment, feeling as though it was plopping down against his aching bladder. The shushing noise Kenneth was making wasn’t helping Dwight’s situation at all, either. It sounded too much like rushing water, teasing his bladder into a fit of spasms. “O—Okay,” he said. He could still wait! And those sodas MUST have been impacting Kenneth at least a little bit by now!

Bryce returned to the table and asked Dwight and Kenneth where they would like to go next. Kenneth wanted to go to the library, and Bryce actually agreed with him that that sounded fun. 

The weird, squirmy feeling in Dwight’s chest came back. Bryce NEVER agreed with Kenneth on ANYTHING! What had happened between them last night? What had changed everything? 

“I know how you do not like to read,” Kenneth said to his friend. “But, I can read something TO you, if you want.” 

Some of the wriggly tension beneath Dwight’s skin faded away. Kenneth still did care about him— And why the Hell was he doubting that so much!? He should have known better! “I’d like that,” Dwight said. He really would. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like reading, he’d enjoyed several books in his life, it was just exceedingly difficult for him to do it. All the words seemed to dance around the page every time he tried, and he’d sometimes read certain letters like b or d backwards and end up confusing himself. 

Even without that difficulty, Dwight doubted if he could concentrate on reading anything to himself right now, anyway. His bladder was demanding more and more of his attention. As they walked to the library, Dwight couldn’t help but look at each and every shop they passed, wondering if they had a restroom he could use. ‘Hold it,’ he told himself. ‘Show Kenneth that you care more than Bryce does!’ 

Once in the library, Kenneth searched for a book he thought his friend would like. Dwight made him laugh better than anyone else could, so he tried to find a book that looked humorous. Subconsciously, he raised a hand to his mouth and chewed on his pinky. 

Kenneth realized what he was doing a moment later and paused. He certainly was beginning to feel a tiny bit uncomfortable… He was a little surprised by how much his need for the restroom had built up during the short walk from the cafe to the library.

He considered if he should return to Dwight and tell him that he actually WAS starting to need a pee. But, he wasn’t bursting. And Dwight wanted him to read to him right now! It would be just silly to interrupt that when he only vaguely had to go. 

He could still wait. 

Kenneth found a book that seemed like it would be funny and returned to a group of chairs where Dwight was waiting for him. He noticed Dwight’s back looked super rigid, the same way he straightened himself out when sitting in front of a superior officer… That was weird, because the chairs here were all super comfortable. They were soft with flexible backs, nice places to curl up and read for a few hours. 

Kenneth laughed, “Why are you so stiff?” he asked. “It is our day off, remember? You are allowed to be comfortable now.” 

Dwight jolted a bit, then leaned back slightly… But he still looked really, really tense. His hands were gripping the armrests of the chair, fingernails digging in deep enough to leave indents. How odd… 

Oh! 

Kenneth knew what was wrong! The LAST time they’d come here together, Kenneth had picked out one of HIS favorite books to read— A very gruesome horror novel. It had scared Dwight so badly that he was terrified to go outside after dark by himself for a month. He must have been worried Kenneth was going to read him another story like that. 

“Don’t worry, this book isn’t scary,” Kenneth promised, opening it. “It’s supposed to be funny.” 

Dwight was relieved when Kenneth started to read. Now, his friend’s attention was on the book instead of on him— It was getting SO hard not to squirm! It felt like his bladder was doing cartwheels inside his body, the liquid it was containing being sloshed and thrashed like massive waves during a hurricane. 

He was grateful he couldn’t SEE the restrooms from where he was sitting, they wouldn’t be right there and taunting him nonstop like the ones at the cafe had— But he still knew EXACTLY where they were and that he could get to them in less than five minutes. Other times Kenneth had brought him here and read him a book, there usually DID come a point where Dwight would ask him to pause between chapters so he could relieve himself. 

He had gotten fairly desperate here in the past, such as when Kenneth was reading him a particularly exciting story and Dwight hadn’t wanted to take a break from it. Or when he told himself to wait until the end of a chapter so that Kenneth wouldn’t lose his place, only for that chapter to end up being very, very long… By the end of it, Dwight was barely able to listen to his friend, so loud were the screams from within his body. 

But, both of those times Dwight had at least known that his bladder would be emptied the moment he finally spoke up and said he needed to go. He’d still been in control. 

That wasn’t an option today. 

His bladder would remain full until the moment Kenneth finally spoke up and said he needed to go, and Dwight had zero control over when that would be. 

 

Dwight needed to stop thinking about this. Thinking about past emergencies, and agonizing over when his current one would be brought to an end, was only making him need to go even worse. He didn’t understand WHY, it wasn’t like thinking about peeing could make his kidneys work faster than usual, right? But still, the more he thought about urinating, the fuller he felt… 

He tried instead to focus on the book Kenneth was reading to him… But, it REALLY wasn’t helping. He understood this book was a comedy, but he wished that its opening scene could be something OTHER than the main character desperately trying to find a bathroom before his date showed up and saw that he was desperate to piss. 

It didn’t help that the author of the book obviously had talent, the description of the poor guy’s agonizing search for SOMEWHERE to empty his bladder was incredibly vivid. It was clear the author had experienced something at least vaguely similar before, because the way the man’s need was described was downright VISCERAL. Dwight felt each and every word of it. 

“I cannot possibly withstand this for much longer,” Kenneth read. “I simply must relieve myself of the torrents of water within me. I absolutely MUST. I have been containing this for what feels like eons. I feel I have forgotten what it is like to NOT need the restroom. The surges from within refuse to cease even for a moment, instead only growing more violent in their insistence that I give into their incessant pleas…” 

Dwight thought he agreed with the man in the book. He too was struggling to remember what an empty bladder felt like. His had been full for far longer than he could usually abide, and he still could not gauge how much longer his ordeal was going to last. ‘That doesn’t matter,’ he told himself, for he knew he had NO CHOICE but to contain himself until after Kenneth peed, however long that might take. 

Another thing that was doing Dwight no favors was HOW Kenneth was reading the book to him. Kenneth was one of the most dramatic people Dwight knew, he expressed every emotion with so much intensity and passion…

It meant that when he read to Dwight, he really brought the story to life. Dwight didn’t think the horror book from a few months ago would have scared him even half as badly if it weren’t for how real Kenneth made everything sound— The way he projected so much genuine-sounding terror into his voice, the way he even threw in little sound effects… In another life, Kenneth could have been great working on radio dramas. 

And now, of course, Kenneth was doing his absolute best to make the book character’s desperation SOUND just as real as the descriptions. He kept making little, urgent whimpering noises between sentences. Every word out of his mouth was wavering, breathy and tinged with blatant need. “Ooooh,” Kenneth whimpered, breathing heavily. “I cannot believe a place as upscale as this lacks proper toilet facilities. There MUST be one around here somewhere. Nnnnhh, I have to find it as soon as possible. Ohh—! I fear she will never want to see me again if I greet her in soaked clothing, but— Ah!— It is becoming increasingly likely that I will do exactly that!” 

Dwight felt like HE was going to do ‘exactly that’ soon as well! He was actually somewhat shocked by how much feeling Kenneth was putting into the reading. When Kenneth was ACTUALLY desperate in real life, he tried so hard not to moan and whine as much as he was doing now. He eyed Kenneth’s face and was equally stunned to see that his friend wasn’t even blushing at the words and sounds coming out of his mouth— This wasn’t ‘real’ to him, he must have been viewing all of this as simply stepping into the shoes of the character, so none of it was making him feel self-conscious. 

Had Dwight’s mind been more at ease, he may have thought about ways to use ‘acting’ and ‘playing pretend’ to help Kenneth feel more at ease when he actually had to pee… As it was, all of that mental energy had to go towards WISHING that Kenneth actually had to pee right now. 

Kenneth DID actually have to pee right now… A bit. There was a definite feeling of heaviness below his belt now, and when he had to read a paragraph where the book’s character started to daydream about emptying his bladder onto a bush outdoors, the line ‘My waters would at last gush away, unrestrained and I know I would be unable to help the sigh that would fall from my lips as my body at last succumbs to bliss,’ was enough to make Kenneth cross his legs at the ankles and tense up his thighs. 

But, for Dwight, that line managed to wind such an atrociously taut rope of suggestion around his bladder that his first leak of the day sprung forth into his boxers. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from making a noise, a gasp at the shock of sudden warmth encasing his length. Without thinking, he reached to give himself a nice, long squeeze. 

The relief his hand brought him was immense, and when he forced it back away after a moment to avoid Kenneth’s notice, the panicked protesting pangs that fired through his bladder were mythical in their intensity. Dwight crossed his legs tight, hoping that he could get away with at least doing THAT much, but it didn’t feel like that would be ENOUGH to keep his bladder satiated for much longer. 

By the end of the chapter, the man had found somewhere to release his bladder… Into the bouquet of flowers he’d intended to give to his date whom, of course, showed up the second he’d unzipped his pants. “She’s here, watching wide eyed as I desecrate what was meant to be a gift to her, I do my absolute best to screw my faucet back shut, but I am now powerless against the tide. Mind-breaking humiliation mixes with Earth shattering levels of relief as hours upon hours of suffering and torment come at last to an end. Just when I think I couldn’t have made a worse impression upon her, the plastic encasing the flowers proves to have a smaller capacity than my bladder and splits apart, a puddle beginning to grow at my feet as she just keeps silently watching. Then, against my will, I sigh; ‘Ahhhhhhhhhh….’” 

Oh… Jesus, that noise… Now, THAT sounded EXACTLY like the moans Kenneth let out while he peed. And listening to those would make ANYBODY desperate to go… Even, as Dwight discovered now, if they WEREN’T accompanied by the torrential hiss of one of Kenneth’s heavy, long streams… Dwight’s legs tightened even more around one another. 

Kenneth turned the page in the book and finally blushed. “Heh, well that was a silly noise,” he said. “Didn’t know I could sound like that…” 

‘You sound like that EVERY time you piss!’ Dwight thought, but decided not to say. He’d long theorized that Kenneth failed to NOTICE that he was so ridiculously vocal when he emptied his bladder, and this had just confirmed it. Dwight also had a hunch that, if Kenneth ever realized the borderline perverse groans that flew out of him in those moments, he’d be so embarrassed he’d try to never pee again. 

And Dwight couldn’t have Kenneth trying that TODAY when his own relief was dependent upon Kenneth’s. 

Kenneth was about to begin the second chapter when he noticed Bryce walking over to them. “Are you two ready to go?” he asked. 

‘YES!’ Dwight’s mind and body screamed. He was WELL past ready to ‘go’! 

“We haven’t been here that long,” Kenneth complained, setting the book down. 

“I know,” Bryce said, rolling up his sleeve and pointing to his watch. “But, there is a store I wanted to visit today, and it closes soon. So, we are going to have to leave.” 

Dwight caught sight of Bryce’s watch, stunned by how late in the afternoon it already was… He wasn’t sure what the exact time of his last pee was, but was positive it had been WAY too long ago. 

Kenneth forced himself to leave the comfy, fuzzy chair, and immediately rocked back and forth on his heels as a much louder reminder of all the sodas he’d swallowed began to make itself heard. He still wasn’t desperate. He could still hold it. But… Wow, was it starting to get uncomfortable! There was a constant, rippling pinch at his opening now and every few seconds he needed to tense his thighs to keep it from getting too intense. “There had better be something interesting at this store, Bryce,” he said. 

“There is!” Bryce insisted. “Stop whining.” 

Dwight noticed Kenneth’s little foot-dance and once more felt himself flooded with hope… He managed to stand again, but was unable to bring himself to a full stance upright. He had to lean forward partially to keep his bladder from feeling too stretched out, but bending over TOO far made it feel compressed and squished. He made himself step as casually as he could over to Kenneth. “Do you need to go before we leave?” he asked softly. 

Kenneth… Definitely DID need to pee now… But, he could wait longer than this. And Bryce REALLY wanted to get to the store before it closed… Kenneth knew from past experience that this wasn’t an easy place for him to pee, what if he took so long to go that the store was closed by the time he was done? Bryce would yell at him and probably tease him for weeks over it! He shook his head, “There’s only one stall here, and the last time I was here the lock on it was broken.” 

That… Wasn’t EXACTLY a ‘No, I don’t have to go yet.’ That was an ‘It’s hard for me to go HERE.’ Which meant there was still a chance… “I’ll hold the door shut for you,” Dwight offered. “Would that help?” 

Kenneth, again, shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Dwight. I don’t need it that bad right now…” He eyed his friend’s unusual stance. “You can go if you want.” 

Dwight looked away. “No, it’s fine. I don’t need to,” he insisted. “I’m just… My legs are sore after sitting still for too long. That’s all.” 

Kenneth shrugged, “Okay,” he said, beginning to follow after Bryce. 

The walk to the store was a lot longer than Kenneth had anticipated. He didn’t really mind walking, it took a lot to really wear him out, but his bladder was scolding him for not taking Dwight up on the offer of a toilet break back at the library. He knew he could still wait a lot longer, even if he was needing to walk with his knees pinched inwards a little bit. He just needed a distraction, that was all. Once they were at the store— Which Bryce had continually promised WAS very interesting— Kenneth knew he’d be able to ignore his need better again. 

Dwight, however, couldn’t ignore his need anymore if his life depended on it. He remembered the two accidents he’d had as an adult— The one at the villa and the one in front of Elizabeth— and realized with some fear that THIS was how he’d felt shortly before those incidents had taken place. This clawing, spasming roll deep within his core and a strange, warm pinching feeling running up and down his length. His bladder was beyond full and did not have any space left inside it. He had to go so badly that he could barely see straight anymore!

Dwight blinked a few times and realized the fogginess in his vision was due to the fact he’d begun to cry. He couldn’t hold it, he couldn’t hold it… He HAD to, though! He needed Kenneth to see that he’d do ANYTHING in the world for him, even if it was painful. Even if it was causing him to cry. 

At least his eyes were the only place he was leaking from right now. He hadn’t felt even one drop of his urine pump itself out of his bladder after that first leak a little while ago. His pee was staying right where it belonged, right where it HAD to stay until after Kenneth had finally peed. Dwight just wished his bladder would get it through its mind that he WASN’T going to empty it no matter how much it screamed at him to do so. 

Dwight thought that his need would likely be easier to withstand if it weren’t for the fact that he was in a place where it was so very EASY to find a restroom. If there just wasn’t anywhere for him TO go, then all the confused, pleading pangs from within may have been softer. His body just couldn’t grasp why he was continuing to ignore its urgent signals when there were so many places nearby where he could get relief. This wasn’t what his body was used to, the only time Dwight USUALY held his pee was when he genuinely just didn’t have anywhere to go. 

As Kenneth watched Dwight hobble along and occasionally press a hand against his crotch when he thought no one was watching, he felt himself growing just as confused as Dwight’s bladder was. It was blatantly obvious that Dwight was in serious pain, filled to the brim with pee. Kenneth couldn’t understand why he hadn’t gone yet. Everywhere they’d been today had had a public restroom which he would have been free to use, but for some reason he hadn’t. And, knowing how unashamed Dwight typically was about this, Kenneth couldn’t fathom why his friend hadn’t given up and just unleashed his waters in an alleyway yet.

Kenneth knew his friend abhorred the feeling of needing a restroom, and preferred to empty his bladder at the earliest opportunity possible. He never made himself wait unless there was a legitimate reason for it, but there certainly wasn’t one of those right now. It was their day off! Dwight didn’t even have to ask Bryce for permission to go, or anything! He was free to do as he pleased! 

So then, did he just WANT to hold it for some reason? Was he having too much fun to pause for a break? Kenneth noticed Dwight’s eyes were shining and doubted that that was the case. He was in TEARS from how bad he needed to go, it was clear that there was nothing Dwight wanted to do more than pee right now. 

Had he just somehow not noticed any of the restrooms they’d passed? That would be a little weird, as surely Dwight had been looking out for them, and he’d used the restroom at the cafe and the library lots of times. He knew where they were. “Dwight?” Kenneth whispered. “The store Bryce wants to see probably has a toilet. Can you hold it okay until we get there?” 

He’d noticed! Dwight forced himself to stand up straighter, then thrust his hands into his pockets so they wouldn’t return to his crotch. Now that his hands were trapped and could no longer grip his member, he felt a surge of warmth shoot down his length before jetting into the material of his boxers. The new, damp heat encasing his tip was a horrid tease on his still bloated bladder; That tiny loss of control hadn’t brought him any relief, and he felt more desperate than ever to allow the rest to come out. 

Still, he refused to tell Kenneth that. “O—Of course— I mean, I don’t need to hold anything.” 

Kenneth stared at him for a second, as if to confirm to himself that Dwight really HAD said those words. One thing Kenneth knew about his friend was that he NEVER denied it when he had to pee. Quite the opposite, given the opportunity he would groan and whine and talk incessantly about how terribly desperate he was. And, if someone saw him squirm and ask if he wanted a break, he would ALWAYS whimper something like “Yes, please? I can’t wait much longer!” 

To hear Dwight insist that he DIDN’T have to go in spite of copious evidence to the contrary was very confusing. Kenneth expected that sort of thing from Bryce, that idiot was always too prideful to admit that his bladder wasn’t big enough to contain everything within it. Kenneth himself always struggled to say ‘yes’ if someone asked him if he needed to relieve himself because he felt so embarrassed… 

Was that it? Was Dwight feeling unusually bashful about his bladder today for some reason? THAT was very unlike him as well, Kenneth had never seen Dwight care one iota about someone possibly seeing or hearing him pee, but maybe something about today had made him feel more self-conscious? 

Kenneth had a feeling he knew what it was; This morning, when he’d pulled his boxers down all the way to pee without realizing Bryce was awake to see him so exposed. Bryce HAD been pretty mean about that, he HAD definitely tried to make him feel ashamed of himself. Had it worked? Was that why Dwight didn’t want to mention that he needed to go now? 

Kenneth leaned into his friend again. “Dwight, don’t feel embarrassed about this morning,” he whispered. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.” 

Dwight struggled to think back to that morning… He remembered getting upset over Bryce hugging Kenneth in the night. He remembered worrying when Kenneth didn’t ask him for help. He remembered… God, he remembered peeing in the bushes. He remembered how good that felt… His hands strained inside his pockets, trying to reach his dick. He was unsuccessful. “I… It’s just that I really don’t need to go, Kenneth. That’s all.” 

“Dwight…” Kenneth sighed, confusion beginning to give way to annoyance. “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing!” Dwight insisted. “Nothing is wrong, and I don’t need to pee!” Each denial sounded more like a confession, even to his own ears. “Why are you asking?” 

“Because—“ 

Dwight allowed his hopes to rise, “Do… Um, do YOU have to go? Want me to come with y—“ 

“No,” Kenneth interrupted. He only had to pee a little! Dwight’s dancing was certainly making his own urge build up a bit, but he could hold it! So long as he kept his thighs tense and didn’t walk too quickly, he barely even NOTICED the pressure in his bladder! Dwight clearly needed the toilet WAY more than he did, it would be downright cruel to ask Dwight to assist him with using a public restroom right now, to force Dwight to help HIM pee when his own bladder was so much closer to bursting. 

Kenneth knew how unlikely he’d be able to go WITHOUT Dwight’s help, so that meant he would have to wait until AFTER Dwight had peed before he even thought about asking. 

Luckily, Kenneth knew he could definitely hold it until then. Dwight was sure to give in to his body’s demands as soon as they got to the store. Then, if Kenneth decided that he had to go badly enough, he’d ask. 

When they got to the store— Which sold a variety of very strange looking glass sculptures that Kenneth figured probably reminded Bryce of props in his favorite books— there was a sign in the back clearly designating where the restrooms were. 

Kenneth nudged Dwight in the side and pointed to them… Jabbing him way, WAY too low for Dwight’s comfort. Kenneth’s elbow dug deeply into the swell of Dwight’s bladder, causing the other man to jolt and let loose yet another small spurt of urine into his pants… Wow, Dwight thought that his abdomen felt… Firmer now than it usually did… Stretched out and hard as could be. He glanced down at his body, it was hard to tell through his clothes but he thought he may have actually been a little swollen… 

Dwight had seen Kenneth holding back a bladder that was so full it protruded many times before, but he’d hardly EVER seen the same thing happening with his OWN body. No wonder everything hurt so much! No wonder it felt like his skin was going to tear! Something was actually causing his skin to expand and distend unnaturally. If he hadn’t seen Kenneth’s flat midsection straining in this same way so many times, Dwight would have been scared that the overtaxed ball of tension in his core was a sign that he was going to actually burst! 

And, recalling how often Kenneth’s bladder became visibly swollen like this, Dwight was once again stunned and appalled by what his friend must have been through. Dwight had only just now noticed how bloated he was, and he was frightened by it and in more pain than he’d ever thought a simple need to pee could possibly cause. He wanted nothing more than to GO right now— Even in his pants! It hurt so brutally that he didn’t think he’d even CARE that much if he peed himself right where he was! 

But, when Kenneth’s bladder became this distended, Dwight had seen him just… Continue holding it. Sometimes for several more hours. And he’d be whimpering and in tears and doing all sorts of pee-dances, but he’d STILL keep all of that fluid inside himself. Dwight couldn’t imagine enduring THIS feeling— This awful, terrifying, agonizing feeling— for SO long! But, Kenneth did it regularly… 

“Dwight,” Kenneth whispered sharply. “The restrooms are RIGHT over there, go use it.”

Dwight’s bladder screeched at him to listen, to run to the toilet and piss out a violent stream that was sure to leave him weak at the knees… But, he still COULDN’T! He forced himself to shake his head, his vision blurring at even that tiny motion. He needed to go so badly he felt sick! “I—I’m fine, Kenneth… Stop worrying.” 

Kenneth blinked at his friend in total incomprehension. “Dwight, I don’t understand. This isn’t like you. Just go.” 

Dwight kept shaking his head. “Don’t need to,” he insisted yet again. Dwight hadn’t realized it, but he’d resumed holding himself. He told himself to let go, but his hands refused to listen. Each time he tried to drag them away from his crotch, they only clamped themselves down tighter and tighter. He knew that his continued denials of his need were completely laughable. He was doubled over, crossing his legs tight enough that they were going numb, and clutching his cock for dear life. Anyone could tell he was mere moments away from peeing— Whether his zipper was still up or not. 

“Dwight, you— You—-“ Kenneth ran a hand through his hair out of pure agitation. Watching his friend’s pee-dance was making his own bladder convulse. Most of those sodas had DEFINITELY worked their way through him by now and were beginning to beg him for release. But, if Dwight carried on being so freaking STUBBORN, Kenneth still couldn’t ask him for the necessary assistance. “The floor here is freaking CARPETED,” he realized, glaring down at his disobedient feet that were now beginning to shift around. 

“Th—That’s fine,” Dwight said. “Everything’s fine. Everything is fine. I’m fine, I don’t need… Stuff, or anything. It’s all fine.” He was babbling, he barely even made sense to himself anymore. This had been a terrible idea! He’d known for years that Kenneth’s bladder capacity far, FAR outweighed his own. He was now overcome with the urge to blurt out everything and try to explain to Kenneth how he’d managed to get himself into this awful state, but his mind was so devoid of anything apart from the white noise of his desperation that he couldn’t do it. 

“FINE!” Kenneth snapped. “If you want to wet yourself for some stupid reason, go ahead!” 

Dwight flinched, another jet of pee being knocked loose. He felt the warmth flowing into the palms of his hands, but he didn’t care… He’d made Kenneth angry. Kenneth got angry a whole Hell of a lot, but rarely did Kenneth get angry at HIM. On the rare occasions Dwight did manage to infuriate his friend, he’d feel horrid. He was supposed to be the one person Kenneth didn’t get frustrated with… Dwight had tried to make their relationship STRONGER with this misguided effort, and instead he was pushing him away… “Kenneth, I—“ 

“Quiet,” Kenneth grumbled, stalking off. He looked at some of the figurines, trying to quell his rising anger. He didn’t want to blow up and lose it like he so often did. Not here, where losing his temper would probably result in him shattering a lot of very expensive glass. Not at Dwight, the only person he could say he really loved… 

But, Dwight was really ticking him off right now. And he wasn’t acting like himself at all. Kenneth was worried now that maybe HE was the one that had done something wrong to make Dwight behave so strangely. He couldn’t think of what that could have been, however. 

Not to mention, Kenneth’s bladder was beginning to really pinch at him, the pressure that had been remorselessly increasing all day was finally becoming more than he could ignore. He needed to go, and he needed Dwight’s help TO go, but Dwight needed to go so much WORSE so he still couldn’t bring it up! 

Kenneth could still wait, it would be uncomfortable and he was now to the point that he couldn’t help but squirm around a little, but he COULD still wait. Just… With Dwight acting like a complete moron for no discernible reason, Kenneth didn’t know how much longer he’d have to hold it… It could end up getting pretty awful for him soon… 

Of course, Bryce was an option. He could ask Bryce to soothe him into pissing instead. But, he’d never asked Bryce to do that for him in a public setting like this before. Only outdoors when it really had just been the two of them. Bryce may not be as willing to enter a public restroom stall with him as Dwight always was. He’d worry about what that would do to his ‘image’ if someone saw. 

But, he realized that he could ALSO ask Bryce to help with Dwight. 

Kenneth found Bryce in another area of the store, examining some vaguely translucent looking figurines that resembled strange, green alien creatures. “See, Paulson?” he asked. “Told you the stuff here is—“ 

“Could you come… I don’t know, just ORDER Dwight to go take a piss, or something? He’s acting weird.” 

“Wait, he didn’t go when we got here?” Bryce asked. “I was half expecting him to flood the entire town while we were walking.” 

“I… Um…” Kenneth looked away. “I was too…” he admitted. “But, he’s refusing to pee right now for some reason.” 

“Because he’s an idiot.” 

“Yes,” Kenneth nodded. “So, could you make him go?” 

Bryce shrugged and set the figurine down. Dwight hadn’t moved from his place close to the front door, but that didn’t mean he’d been still. His body was absolutely vibrating now, clearly incapable of holding still for even a second. “Smith,” Bryce said. “Stop being a complete moron and go take a freaking piss. If I get banned from here because you pissed all over the place, you’re not gonna like what I do to you.” 

Dwight, again, flinched. He felt urine gliding down one of his legs now. “I— I don’t—“ 

“You do,” Bryce grouched. “I don’t know what shit you’re pulling today, but it’s idiotic and I want it to end now.” 

“I—“ 

“Dwight, please?” Kenneth begged. “You’re hurting yourself— You— Just come with me, please?” he took Dwight’s arm and led him past all the aisles of glass sculptures, led him towards the restrooms. 

And Dwight allowed himself to be led, because Kenneth was holding him again now and that was a good sign… 

When they got into the restroom, Kenneth was surprised by what he found. The stalls weren’t like what he was used to. They all had regular doors, each stall was like its own separate room. And the doors themselves looked thick. They were heavy and made out of some kind of metal… 

Dwight still made no move to enter one, though. 

“Dwight, please just—“ Kenneth stopped, his bladder pulsing angrily. He… Wasn’t feeling the same nervous, antsy tingling he usually felt inside a public bathroom. He wasn’t being flooded with the usual, disparaging thoughts of ‘There’s no way I’m gonna be able to piss in here’. 

Instead, he felt more like he did when he returned to his barrack at the end of each day, his bladder uncomfortably full and heavy with the knowledge that he was so close to his safe place— To somewhere he could allow it to gush as much as it wanted. He felt… Comfortable here, and his bladder was taking that as a cue that it was moments away from being drained, sending him a series of urgent, insistent throbs even though he knew he didn’t need to go THAT badly just yet… He shifted from foot to foot, trying to avoid looking at the doors that looked so secure and private… 

“Dwight, you’re going to have an accident,” Kenneth groaned finally. “Just pee.” 

Dwight had already STARTED to have an accident, but he was still determined to wait until Kenneth had gone first! “I… Can’t right now.” 

Kenneth struggled, straining for any kind of explanation. He was very, VERY familiar with needing to urinate and being unable to, even if a toilet was right there. To his knowledge, Dwight had never experienced anything of the sort in his life, though. But, maybe he just randomly was today? Kenneth sometimes couldn’t go if he was anxious about something totally unrelated to peeing, was Dwight just stressed today? Was it making it hard for him to go? 

If that was the case, then Kenneth shouting at him and scolding him for all this time certainly wasn’t helpful… A heavy feeling bloomed in his chest. “I’m sorry, Dwight… I did not realize you were having trouble today. I’m a jerk…” 

Dwight blinked back several tears. He’d heard what Kenneth had said, but he hadn’t understood it… 

“I shouldn’t have been yelling and stuff,” Kenneth went on. “You need quiet right now, don’t you? I’ll… Um… I’ll wait in one of the stalls for you, and look how NICE the doors are here. You probably won’t hear anything from inside of one of them. Would that help you?” 

Dwight still didn’t know what Kenneth was talking about, but his friend entering a bathroom stall was definitely something he wanted to have happen. Maybe Kenneth would GO while he was in there, and all of this could finally be over. He nodded. 

“Okay,” Kenneth said, entering the closest stall. He clicked the lock shut behind him, hearing it engage. The lock felt… It felt really heavy. Really tight. Nothing was going to get through it. 

And he was right, the stall really WAS like its own little room. Totally private, totally secure. Just like the restroom at the barrack… Actually, maybe even BETTER than that, because Kenneth couldn’t hear a THING from outside the door. 

And that meant, nobody would be able to hear anything happening INSIDE it, either. No matter how much his stream hissed, no one would know… 

And… And there was a toilet here, of course… And Kenneth’s bladder was really uncomfortable, even if it wasn’t bursting at the seams. He remembered all the times Father had scolded him for peeing when it wasn’t an emergency… “You are wasting my time! You could have held a LOT more!” 

But, this wouldn’t be like wasting time, right? Dwight was— Kenneth hoped to God— Urgently flooding one of the other toilets right now. There was a REASON they were in here, a very good one… 

And, Kenneth remembered things his Mother had said— “Kenneth, the walk to the store is very long. Come try to go before we leave…” Sometimes he’d say he didn’t really have to. “I know you don’t NEED to, but it is a VERY long walk. It’s good to go just in case.” And Kenneth would listen. Sometimes it would take a bit for him to actually pee since he wasn’t holding very much, but after he managed it Mother always told him that he’d made a good choice… 

Kenneth felt so safe here… So much safer than he usually felt in a public restroom. It would be okay if he went, right? He was already here… And the pressure within was getting worse by the second… 

He lifted the seat on the toilet and unzipped. Usually, around this time, Kenneth would be hit with an urge to go back to the door and CONFIRM that it really was locked. But, he didn’t feel that now. There was no compulsive need to go check. He knew it was locked, he’d heard the bolt slide into place. He knew he was secure, and would continue to be secure until he CHOSE to unlock it. 

‘Okay, Paulson…’ Kenneth told himself. ‘You can do thi—‘ 

Before he’d even finished the thought, his stream was flowing. Gently, easily, trickling down into the bowl without a care in the world. And there was no sense that one wrong move— breathing in too shallowly or accidentally shifting one of his feet— would cause his release to shut back off. He was peeing, very simply, just like anyone else would… 

And, there was just so much relief when it hit him how truly EASY this was right now. He hadn’t needed to fight to do this, he’d merely needed to unzip and let his body handle everything else. Automatic. Normal. The way it was SUPPOSED to be. The way it SHOULD have been all the time. 

He was going to have to remember where this store was located for the next time he came to town. So long as it remained open, there would be a place where he could just… Pee whenever he wanted to. 

Then he had another thought; Once the medics figured out whatever medicine it was he had to take to make his bad feelings go away, he’d be able to pee like this ANYWHERE! 

His stream didn’t even last a full minute— Forty-five seconds at the most, absolutely minuscule compared to how much he typically gushed— But, by the time it had receded, he felt more relaxed and relieved to have gone than he ever had before. He exhaled deeply, overcome by how wonderful he suddenly felt. 

He left the stall, hoping Dwight had finally gotten relief as well, but— 

Dwight was obviously still holding it. Tears were flowing down his face, but shockingly no urine was flowing onto the floor below him just yet. 

“Oh, Dwight, you couldn’t go?” Kenneth guessed. “Come… Come here, I’ll make it better, I—“ 

“Did you go?” Dwight asked, his eyes shining. 

“Yes,” Kenneth said, unsure if it was a good idea to admit it, to tell Dwight his own bladder was freshly empty when Dwight was still apparently struggling to make his own cooperate. “I—“ 

“Oh, thank you!” Dwight exclaimed, pushing past Kenneth and into the stall, leaving his friend standing there in confusion yet again. 

Dwight slammed the door shut behind him and barely remembered to put the lock in place as his other hand yanked apart his buttons and zipper. “I can’t hold it…” he muttered to himself, finally allowing the whines he’d been holding in along with his bladder to spill forth. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it… Gah, I gotta pee SOOO bad!” He stumbled to the toilet, pulling his dribbling penis out and aiming it at the bowl. The drips continued for several seconds before his body caught up to the world around him and understood that it was finally okay to release. 

Pee began to pour loudly into the toilet, and Dwight flung his head back with an intense moan. “Ohhhhh…. Goddddd….” he didn’t typically get so vocal as he peed— That was usually Kenneth’s thing— but he’d never EVER felt this level of relief before. He’d never thought that he could actually FEEL the way his bladder was shrinking and deflating with each new wave of urine that gushed from him. He’d felt a fraction of the pain Kenneth put up with today— And now he was also feeling a fraction of the RELIEF Kenneth got to enjoy… 

And… It was good. It was so, so good… It was better than… Than anything… Dwight could barely believe a feeling this good existed. He felt like he was orgasming and that it was going on and on and on with no end in sight. He was amazed that something so horrible could transform into something so beautiful in a matter of seconds. He wanted this to never stop. He wanted to keep standing here and letting it flow forever. He wanted to feel this way all the time. His body was trembling as tingles soared up and down it, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he just kept moaning and moaning and moaning… 

This was what Kenneth felt when he peed, it had to be… And it fully justified all of those ‘silly noises’ as Kenneth had called them at the library. 

Of course, it had to stop eventually. Dwight had discovered today that he could hold more in his bladder than he’d thought, but there was a limit. When the last of his liquid drained out into the bowl, he shivered and stumbled against the wall, breathing in and out heavily as he tried to adjust to how different everything felt now. His entire body was so raw, so sensitive… It felt like a harsh breeze could knock him over now… 

He left the stall a minute later, sighing once more. “God, that’s better…” he mumbled. “I needed that…” 

Kenneth stared at him. “Yes… You sure did…” he agreed. “Why did you— Why wouldn’t you go earlier? Is there something wrong?” 

Dwight blushed as he went over to the sinks. It seemed so silly now… “I wanted to show you how much I care about you,” he tried to explain. 

“By… Rupturing your bladder?” 

“By not peeing until after YOU did,” Dwight said. “It’s… I don’t know, Bryce told me you and him hugged a lot last night, and I felt weird about it… I—“ 

“He was the only one up,” Kenneth said. “I was freaking out.” 

“I know,” Dwight said. “But, you COULD have gotten me up! And, then there was this morning…” 

“When Bryce saw your…” Kenneth blushed. “Um… Backside?” 

“No, not that,” Dwight said. “I mean, you were looking for your canteen for so long, and never even bothered to ask me to help. Then, you wanted Bryce to help you pee instead of me. It’s like you were avoiding me!” 

Kenneth covered his face, but that did nothing to conceal his glowing blush. “I— I wasn’t avoiding you… Not really,” he said. 

“You were, you—“ 

“When I saw you naked this morning, I got… Um…” Kenneth felt like he was on fire. “I… It gave me… a… I just… I had… I had an erection, okay?” Kenneth finally spat out. “You looked… Really good, and it just— Happened! That’s why I was hiding in the tent for so long, I was waiting for it to go away! And, I asked Bryce to help me… With the… peeing, instead of you, because I was worried that if you touched me, I’d just get… Like that again.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yesss,” Kenneth said. “I can’t believe you made me SAY all of that!” 

Dwight stared at his friend, realizing that he’d ultimately just forced himself to hold his bladder until he’d nearly exploded all because he’d accidentally given Kenneth an embarrassing, inconvenient boner this morning. “So… You aren’t trying to… Put distance between us?” 

“No!” Kenneth shook his head. “You idiot. Why would I do that? I…” he lowered his voice to a whisper, even though he was sure they were the only two people in the room. “I… Love you. You know that.” 

“I know…” Dwight said. “I don’t— I don’t usually feel this way, Kenneth. Thinking about Bryce holding you and stuff… It…” 

“It made you jealous?” 

“I… Guess so,” Dwight agreed. “But… That’s silly, isn’t it?” 

“Very,” Kenneth said. “Remember what I said before, how I’ve literally never felt… This stuff for ANYONE but you? I meant it. You have no reason to be jealous of Bryce, or anyone else.” 

“Okay,” Dwight said. “Let’s um… Let’s go now…” 

Kenneth sighed, “Not yet…” 

“Hm, what’s—“ 

“Your fly is still down, my sweet, little moron…”

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  • 1 month later...

(This one was originally written for the May writing contest...)

*** 

Bryce took Kenneth to see Elizabeth, to learn if she or the other medics could help make it a little easier for him to pee. Kenneth was excited, but also worried. He didn’t like talking about his… Problem. Bryce did all the talking for him, though. He described— a little TOO proudly for Kenneth’s liking— how he’d figured out that all of the issues Kenneth had been struggling with— his shy bladder, his anger, his nightmares— were coming from something being wrong inside of his head. “Because all this bad stuff happened to him when he was a kid, I think it made him sick. But, just in his brain. So, if you give him whatever medicine fixes that, he shouldn’t have these problems anymore, right?” 

Elizabeth didn’t answer at first. She’d already suspected Kenneth’s bladder issue didn’t have a physical cause, and she knew that things like nightmares and anger came from inside the brain— Everyone knew that. Bryce was completely correct in guessing that Kenneth’s problems all came from in his mind, but his assumption that a ‘medicine’ existed to fix it…

Elizabeth knew that there were certain… facilities where people went when they had a problem inside their brain. They were usually sent there against their will, too. And with good reason. Elizabeth didn’t think anything that was done inside of those places deserved to be called ‘treatment.’ 

When Elizabeth was younger, one of her neighbors had been sent to such a facility by his family. He’d returned eventually, completely changed… But definitely not ‘better’. The next time she saw him, he’d had a scar on his head, and he was a husk of a person, bleary eyed and listless. When she’d asked what had happened, he mumbled vaguely about electric shocks. She never saw that neighbor again. 

“Bryce,” Elizabeth said. “There are… facilities for people with issues inside their brains, but—“ 

“So, I just have to take Kenneth there?” 

“No,” Elizabeth said firmly. “No, no. You definitely shouldn’t. What happens in those places… Kenneth won’t come back from there.” 

“What?” Kenneth asked. “Do they keep people there forever?” 

Elizabeth shook her head. “They… Come back out eventually, just… Okay, at these facilities, the main things they would do to you would be strapping you down and electrocuting you, possibly they will also perform an operation on you that removes a part of your brain.” 

Kenneth went silent. He had no idea how any of that was supposed to work. He was trying to FORGET about being hurt, how would hurting him AGAIN help? 

Bryce stared at Elizabeth, trying to make sense of it as well. When he remembered the mind-wiping thing that occurred in some of the science-fiction books he’d read, he assumed that maybe the real-life equivalent worked out better than the fictional version did. “O—Oh, so they… Take out whatever bits of his brain still remember his Father, and then he’s better?” 

“I’m sure that’s what they’ll SAY they’ll do,” Elizabeth said. “And, they may even BELIEVE that is what they are doing, but… I saw a man come back from that, and I promise he was NOT better at all. His problems hadn’t gone away, they’d gotten even worse.” 

Kenneth slumped in his chair. When Bryce had told him the medics might have had a way to fix him, he’d gotten his hopes up way too high. Now, his hope had been knocked back down hard against the Earth. “S—So I’m just… Stuck, then? I’ll always have this… thing wrong with me?” 

Elizabeth was at a loss. She could bandage wounds and treat broken bones with ease… She had no idea what to do for an aching mind. She couldn’t go inside Kenneth’s head and rub some magical ointment that would chase away all the hurt there. She couldn’t do anything for him, and the only places that CLAIMED to be able to heal his pain would instead just embolden it. 

“I…” Elizabeth frowned. She badly WANTED to help Kenneth, it made her feel pretty broken herself that she didn’t know how. “You do at least have ways you can manage this, don’t you?” 

Kenneth supposed he did, he could get Dwight to help him pee, he could have Dwight hold him after a nightmare, he could punch a wall when he was angry so that nobody got hurt… But, those things didn’t always work, and they certainly didn’t get RID of his problems. ‘Managing his problems’ was not the same thing as ‘getting rid of them forever so he never, ever had to deal with them ever again for as long as he lived’. He sighed and got to his feet, forgetting that Elizabeth was still waiting on him for an answer. 

He should have never let himself believe that a cure actually existed. He should have never let himself think that his troubles would be over if he simply asked the right person. 

“Kenneth, dear?” Elizabeth said. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s… Always going to be this way?” Kenneth asked. “I’m just stuck? I’m always going to lash out, and have nightmares, and never be able to… to just ‘go’?” 

Elizabeth felt so awful. Normally, she could FIX things! Normally, she knew just what to do to solve a problem! 

“Um… Okay. So, the other week, when you accidentally got locked in the cell and couldn’t… ‘go’ for so long. Um… What were you feeling?” 

“Pain,” Kenneth listed. “Agony. Sufferi—“ 

“I— I don’t mean physically, I mean inside,” Elizabeth said. “It really sounds like your issue is heavily tied to your emotions.”

“It is,” Kenneth nodded. “I’ve known that for a while. It gets worse if I’m stressed or scared. Usually I feel that way because there are people near me, but other times it comes from something else.”

“That’s what I thought…” Elizabeth said. The problem seemed simple now; Kenneth just couldn’t go when he was stressed. His anger and nightmares both seemed to be tied to nerves as well. And, it made perfect sense that he felt under pressure. His childhood and adolescence had been— to put it very mildly— stressful. And he’d gone straight into training after he came of age, no breaks there. And now, he only got days off very rarely. 

Kenneth had never had the opportunity to truly relax even once in his entire life. He’d spent practically his entire existence in fight-or-flight mode, always looking out for danger. 

The answer to Kenneth’s problems were perfectly clear now; All that he needed was a whole lot of rest and tranquility, and then everything would be fixed.

Now… How to loosen him up? 

Whenever Elizabeth got a day off, she always went to the same place; the bathhouse. Getting a massage or resting in the sauna for a while always calmed her nerves enough that, upon returning to work, she was always able to keep a cool head. Maybe it would help Kenneth, too? “Kenneth, do you think visiting the bathhouse would help you with your stress?” 

Kenneth thought about it. His last trip there definitely HAD helped him a lot; He’d managed to relieve himself there without Dwight being beside him to soothe him into doing it, and the massage he’d gotten afterwards had made him feel a whole lot better as well. “Yes, I think so,” he said, but he wasn’t sure what Elizabeth intended to do there, and there was one thing he knew WOULDN’T help him relax. “Just… Not in the actual bathing areas. I don’t want to… Not in front of strangers, you know?” 

“That’s fine,” Elizabeth said. “I was thinking we could just get massages, or spend time in the sauna. They will give you a robe to put on in while you’re in there.” 

“Oh, that’s alright then,” Kenneth nodded, although he thought that even a robe would feel a little strange to him. He was so used to only being seen by other people while in his uniform— It was to the point that a lot of people couldn’t even picture him without it. 

“Great,” Elizabeth said. “We can go this weekend; Oh, and make sure you drink plenty of water beforehand. Trust me. If you don’t, the steam will just make you feel very thirsty instead of helping you relax.” 

*** 

Saturday morning, before he left, Kenneth heeded Elizabeth’s warnings and made sure to drink as much water as he could manage. Ordinarily, if he was thirsty and had to swallow down a lot of water prior to going out, he would find himself filled with dread as he thought about how all that liquid would soon be stretching out a bladder that he was unable to empty. But, he’d peed successfully at the bathhouse before, he was confident that if he had an emergency today, the warm, loud spray of one of the showers would work its magic just as it had the last time. 

At the bathhouse, Elizabeth and Kenneth were informed upfront about a minor inconvenience; There was a problem with the septic tank, and the toilets were out of order until it was rectified… This likely explained why there didn’t seem to be many people here today. 

Kenneth wasn’t bothered by the situation, he’d had no intention of relieving his bladder into one of the toilets today anyway. But, then the employee continued, explaining that the restrooms were both in need of a thorough cleaning, so he wouldn’t be able to get to the shower stalls in there, either. 

Elizabeth turned to Kenneth, unsure if they should stay. She thought about asking him, but felt silly about it. She was under no illusion that one quick session in a sauna would calm Kenneth down so much that he’d suddenly be fully capable of urinating into a public toilet. The facilities being out of order wasn’t taking anything away from Kenneth that he hadn’t already lost to start with. 

She directed her gaze back to the employee. “That’s alright,” she said. “We just wanted to spend some time in the sauna. So long as that’s still available, we’re fine.” 

The employee nodded her head, “It is, don’t worry.” She began to lead them down the hallway and directed them into a wood-paneled room lined with dressing hooks that housed thin, white robes. “First, get changed. Take everything off and put on the robes,” the employee said. 

Kenneth finally started to feel a bit of apprehension. He hadn’t thought… Well, he’d assumed that these things would be segregated by gender. He knew the actual bathing rooms all were… He felt weird enough when he had to change his clothes around other men! And what if he accidentally made Elizabeth uncomfortable? 

“Kenneth, it’s alright,” Elizabeth said, stepping inside. “I’ll face the other way, or we can just take turns if that makes you feel better.” 

“O—Okay…” Kenneth nodded, following her. “A—As long as you don’t look…” He faced away from her and, with trembling hands, started to unbutton his uniform. Taking clothes off anywhere other than inside the safety of his room NEVER felt right. He’d needed to do it plenty of times before of course, but it hadn’t gotten any easier. When he got rid of his shirt, kicked off his boots and peeled away his socks, he cringed as he realized what needed to happen next. 

He pulled his pants down quickly and felt more exposed than he ever had in his life, standing in an unfamiliar place wearing nothing but his boxers, and… ‘Oh God, she said EVERYTHING, didn’t she?’ He gripped the waistband of his underpants, trying to force himself to remove them. ‘Elizabeth’s not going to look… And she’s a doctor! She’s seen… People naked before, it probably doesn’t even phase her…’ Squeezing his eyes shut, he yanked his boxers down and stepped out of them, hand immediately going to cover his groin area even though he was facing AWAY from Elizabeth. 

Hurriedly, he grabbed one of the robes and put it on, tying the sash tightly. He still felt like he was naked, raw and exposed, but better than he had a moment before. 

For Elizabeth, getting undressed was nowhere near as troubling. She had struggled with it her first few times coming here, and she’d never gone into the changing room alongside a man until now. Normally, the groups going into the sauna were larger, and so it was easy to divide up into groups of men and women before changing. But, today it was just her and Kenneth… 

She didn’t feel AS unnerved taking her clothes off with him in the room as she’d thought she would. She knew Kenneth was no doubt lost in his own little world of self-conscious, embarrassed panic right now, it wasn’t even crossing his mind to look at her. She wasn’t even sure if her parts were of any interest to him to begin with. 

She put the robe on, and asked Kenneth if he was ready for her to turn around. When he mumbled out a ‘yes’, she did. 

Elizabeth had never seen Kenneth out of uniform. Even when he was injured and staying in the medical building, he insisted on leaving as much of it on as he could; When he’d injured his leg months ago, he’d remained in his uniform, only allowing her to roll up the leg of his pants to attend to his wound. 

She thought she knew why he was so attached to it now; Without it, he looked astoundingly vulnerable. Without his cap, his face looked rounder, his big, shimmering eyes were more pronounced. Without his boots, and the small bit of extra height they provided, he looked tinier than ever. Without the padding in the shirt, his shoulders appeared narrower, his arms even thinner. It was no wonder Kenneth wore his uniform even when he wasn’t required to do so, he NEEDED the sense of authority it afforded him, the way it concealed how small he really was. 

Kenneth was holding onto both sides of the robe, trying to make sure it was covering him up alright. 

“Kenneth… Are you okay? If this is making you too anxious, we can—“ 

“I— I think I’ll feel better once we actually start,” Kenneth said. 

So, that was what they did, they entered the main room of the sauna, more wood finishing, and some places to sit down and rest. Kenneth took his place, and Elizabeth sat a small distance away from him. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him how he was feeling… She’d never noticed how fragile he was before, seeing him out of uniform made Elizabeth want to hold him and promise to never let bad things happen to him. 

Steam was flowing all around them, and Kenneth was already sweating up a storm. He thought Elizabeth was right to tell him to guzzle water before coming here— And that he probably didn’t even have to worry about needing to pee before this was over. He was bound to sweat out all of his water before it even considered flushing into his bladder. What he wasn’t sure of was… Well, how in the world was THIS supposed to be relaxing?! So far, he was just absurdly uncomfortably. He felt vulnerable, naked and like his skin was going to melt off. People did this to calm down and feel GOOD?!

“Elizabeth…?” Kenneth asked. 

“Yes?” 

“Um… How is this relaxing? It’s… I feel like I’m standing on the sun.” 

Elizabeth laughed, “You have to get used to it… And I think they just put water onto the rocks recently, which makes it steam up more and feel warmer.” She stood. Beside the pit where the rocks were being heated were several large, unopened bottles of water. Mainly, they were for pouring onto the rocks, but they could be consumed as well. She grabbed two of them and returned to the benches. She gave one of the bottles to Kenneth. “If it’s too hot for you right now, you can—“ 

Kenneth had already torn the bottle open and begun to chug it. He hadn’t been so eager for a drink of a water since the horrible dehydration punishments his Father had subjected him to. He drank so fast that he nearly choked, and once the bottle was empty he could feel all that liquid sloshing around inside him. “God… That’s better…” 

Elizabeth smiled. She just seemed to have suddenly developed an innate NEED to take care of Kenneth right now. Those big eyes, his tiny, trembling body… “Want more?” 

“Yes, please…” 

Elizabeth gave him the second bottle, which he finished just as quickly, before remarking that NOW the temperature in the room actually felt nice. 

Elizabeth nodded, deciding she should probably drink some water as well, beginning to drink it down slowly. Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to say anything earlier, but the toilets here being out of order had been a much bigger disappointment to her than she’d let on. She too had consumed an awful lot of liquid before coming here, just as she did every other time. And, every other time, she’d usually visit the restroom BEFORE entering the sauna because a lot of the water would have already made it to her bladder by the time she arrived and she didn’t want to get herself desperate while inside of it. 

There had been a tiny bit of pressure in there when she and Kenneth arrived, but not enough to cause alarm. Now though, that pressure had been steadily increasing for quite a while, and she was already worrying about where she’d be able to release any of it. 

She hadn’t meant to finish the whole water bottle, but dehydration was such a serious concern when visiting a sauna, and she knew better than to NOT listen to her body when it told her it was thirsty in here. So, before long, she’d put at least one more liter of fluid into herself, and her knee had begun to bounce. 

For several minutes, Kenneth came to understand why people found saunas relaxing. His skin felt… Weirdly tingly, but in a good way. Kind of like being lightly tickled with a feather. And, the peace and quiet was good too. He’d had a lot on his mind, and very little time to actually think anything through very much lately. Such as his fears about his and Dwight’s relationship being found out. Dwight had said he didn’t think Bryce would care too much, but could that really be true? Bryce was so big on following rules, on having everything be a certain way… 

But… Sometimes Bryce did break rules, didn’t he? He let Kenneth have the day off the day Dwight had gotten injured and Kenneth was so anxious that he couldn’t work. Bryce wasn’t supposed to let his subordinates skip their duties no matter what was happening. And, there was the time Bryce had simply made up the results for Kenneth’s fitness exam after realizing Kenneth had to pee too badly to complete the exercises properly. Forging something like that was UTTERLY against the rules! 

So, there WERE times when Bryce was okay with a rule being broken, if he thought there was a good reason for it. 

Would he think ‘But, Dwight and I love each other!’ was a good reason to break a rule? 

Maybe he— 

Kenneth’s thoughts were interrupted, as well as the pleasant state of relaxation he’d managed to get himself into, when a harsh thud in his bladder and a sharp tug at his urethral opening brought him back to reality. There was an INTENSE pressure inside his midsection, the sort of thing he usually felt right around the time of his mid-day break, when his afternoon visit to the toilet was a few minutes away and he was bouncing on his heels with eager anticipation for it. 

When the Hell had THAT happened?! He hadn’t even noticed the urge building up, just one second he was calm and lost in his thoughts, the next he was clenching his thighs and telling himself to hold it! 

Where… Where was he going to pee?! He didn’t think he could hold it all the way back to his barrack, not with how bad his need already was! The shower he’d let himself gush into the last time he’d been here wasn’t available! There was that store he, Dwight and Bryce had found recently, with those nice, super private toilet stalls… But that was on the other side of town! A very, VERY long walk for someone carrying an uncomfortably full bladder. 

He didn’t even know how long he was going to be staying here, how long his bladder would CONTINUE filling. By the time he left, there was a decent chance that it would go from ‘uncomfortable’ to ‘agonizing’, and reaching that store would be a test of strength and endurance. 

‘Don’t think about it,’ he told himself. ‘Just don’t think about it. Pretend you don’t need to pee…’ He began to rock subtly from side to side, trying to push the urge rippling through his abdomen out of his mind. 

Elizabeth was having similar thoughts. In the few minutes since she’d first noticed her need beginning to grow, it had skyrocketed to the point she felt like her midsection was stretching out. She wasn’t going to make it all the way back without letting go. Even now, she was wriggling in her seat, fanning her legs in and out rapidly as she did her best not to think about toilets and about how good it would feel to use one. 

If she tried to walk all way back with all this liquid aching to break free, there was a decent chance that she’d… That she’d ‘go’ on herself. With Kenneth right beside her! That was completely unacceptable, she hadn’t had an accident since she was eight. No way would she risk another NOW, especially not with a witness! 

Okay, the toilets here didn’t work. She could find somewhere else in town, couldn’t she? But, that would take a while. Going from place to place, asking if they had a bathroom she could use without paying them anything. If she were on her own, she didn’t think that would be a huge deal, but she’d just watched Kenneth chug a TON of water. He was going to NEED to let that out soon and, as she understood it, he was going to have to get back to his barrack in order to do that. Following Elizabeth around while SHE looked for a working toilet would add to the length of time he’d have to wait, and… And, she just… Kenneth was suddenly devastatingly precious to her, she didn’t want to do anything that made him feel pain. 

She needed some way to go HERE, quickly and easily. She needed… 

In the center of the room was a large drain.

No, that was so disgusting— 

But, if she went DIRECTLY into the drain, didn’t get any on the ground surrounding it… That wouldn’t be SO bad, would it? 

Elizabeth sighed. Was she really considering this!? She wasn’t THAT desperate, was she? She just needed to think of something else! 

Thinking about something else hadn’t worked out so well for Kenneth. He’d tried imagining the beach, as he often did when anxious, but then he was bombarded by fantasies of running into the ocean and letting go of his bladder once he was nice and concealed. He tried thinking about Dwight, but most of the memories he ran through involved Dwight helping him take amazingly nice pees.

No matter what he thought about, it always came back to pee. Even looking around the sauna for a distraction only provided him with ideas related to pissing. Like, that drain in the middle of the room. Its whole purpose was to get rid of excess water caused by all the steam. Surely it could handle HIS ‘excess water’ too, right? 

Wait, that was actually a good idea! 

The door to this room could be locked, and there weren’t any windows anywhere. It was private, no one would know if Kenneth relieved himself in here. He’d be extra careful to get it ALL into the drain, and not on the ground— Not that he thought anyone would be able tell the difference between his pee and a puddle of water unless they stuck their nose into it for some reason. 

Yeah. He could pee into the drain, get rid of this awful burden that was making him cross his legs and knead his hands into his robe agitatedly. 

Just… Just as soon as Elizabeth left, of course. No way in Hell could he empty his bladder with HER here. 

Elizabeth hadn’t been able to distract herself. Thinking about work led her to recall how desperate she got whenever she was too busy for a break. As well as all the times she’d helped injured folks relieve their bladders. 

To her surprise, she found herself thinking about Bryce a whole lot. The guy was so silly with his pompous attitude and his insistence on being ‘proper’ around her. Remembering funny things Bryce had said or done in her presence actually worked for a bit, but then she recalled the time he’d been so exhausted and out of his mind with desperation that he’d accidentally peed out an immense, rushing stream before she’d managed to leave him alone in the restroom. This was immediately followed by the memory of the day they’d gotten locked in the supply room together, and how Bryce had made her that nice funnel device so she could aim her stream and pee standing up like a man could. 

She’d actually used it quite a few more times since then. It had helped her out at work, providing her a much faster way to relieve herself when she was really busy. Sometimes when she went into town, she’d need to pee and discover that the nearest public toilet was absolutely revolting and not something she would ever want to make physical contact with. Before, such a situation would necessitate her finding somewhere else to pee, but now that she could just stand, it wasn’t a problem at all. She still sat down to go most of the time, but the device was always inside her pocket, just in case she needed it. 

She wished she HADN’T left it in her pocket today, because now it was sitting on the hook in the changing room. If she’d brought it in here with her, she’d have a much easier time aiming the entirety of her stream down the drain… 

Jeez, she was REALLY considering that, wasn’t she? 

With a wriggle in her hips and a harsh thrumming pulse from within, she realized that peeing in the drain really was her best option here. No way was she going to make it the long walk back, and the last thing she wanted to do was have an accident in front of Kenneth. 

Not that ‘squatting down and peeing into a drain in front of Kenneth’ was something she particularly wanted to do, either. 

He was probably almost done in here, anyway. When Kenneth got up to leave, she’d tell him she just wanted to stay a few minutes longer, and then she could go. 

Easy. 

Except, it wasn’t. Kenneth had begun to fidget and grow restless, a sign that he had become bored of this activity, yet he still was making no move to leave. Elizabeth watched as he tapped his feet, turned about in his seat from side to side and tipped his head back, but he never stood up. 

All the while, Elizabeth’s bladder continued to fill up. She seemed to be losing fluid through her pores just as quickly as it was being dumped into her bladder. The worst part was that her nonstop sweating was making her thirsty again. She fought it for as long as she could, her bladder throbbing and protesting that she absolutely SHOULDN’T drink any more water until she’d dealt with what she’d already finished, but soon enough the sand-paper feeling in her throat became too much. She knew how dangerous dehydration was, and she knew how easy it was to get that way in an environment like this. 

She stood, her bladder immediately cramping in on itself at the change in position. She’d been desperate plenty of times in her life, and for whatever reason it always seemed to be worse while standing up. Probably because when she was seated, she could grind herself against whatever she was resting on. When she stood up, all she could do was clench her thighs and try not to draw her legs too far apart from one another with each step. 

Even with tiny paces across the room to where the water was placed, Elizabeth’s bladder shrieked every time it was bounced. Her urethra was burning, felt like a sharp object was being twisted around inside of it. When she reached the water, she grabbed two bottles and made her way back to her seat. She handed one of the waters to Kenneth, then opened her own. 

Cringing at what she was about to do, she started to pour the liquid down her throat. Most of her body rewarded her as the dry, tight feeling in her tongue faded away. But, her bladder punished her, pulsing in time with each swallow and prompting her to bounce up and down a little where she sat. She had studied how the body worked extensively, she knew full well that there was no way the water could have gone from her mouth to her bladder in a matter of seconds, but it sure FELT like it was! 

Kenneth eyed the water bottle Elizabeth had given him. It was huge! He couldn’t believe he’d already had two of these things so far! It was no wonder he’d already reached a level of need that was requiring him to cross his legs extra tightly. His opening stung, every few seconds he’d be hit with a harsh pressure right at his tip, and his thighs would tense up more in a futile attempt to quell it. No matter how hard he tried, his vision was always drawn back to the drain in the floor. It no longer looked like a drain to him, it looked like a toilet. A perfectly good toilet that he was just DYING to use! 

His hopes had risen up when Elizabeth had stood, he’d thought for sure that she was about to leave. Instead, though, she’d just gone and gotten more water— Indicating that she intended to be in here for quite a while longer— AND she’d brought him some too. 

And, of course, Kenneth felt thirsty. Nerve-wrackingly thirsty. He knew he was losing fluid rapidly from all his sweating— And it honestly made him kind of angry that his nonstop perspiring didn’t seem to be diverting much fluid away from his bladder— He knew he needed to drink something or else he was going to end up in a bad spot. 

Kenneth opened the bottle and started to drink. He tried to pace himself a bit more than he’d done with the first two, but before he knew it he’d swallowed every last drop of it; All of it now flowing through his body. As he continually adjusted his position in a desperate attempt to find one that didn’t make it feel like his pee was about to be pumped right out of him, he could hear the way the water sloshed around inside of him. He could feel it, too. So much liquid… So much that he needed to release, and so much that was about to be added to it! 

‘Don’t think about it,’ Kenneth begged himself. ‘Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it…’ His eyes kept darting over to the drain, and he found himself daydreaming about how great it was going to feel to USE it. One advantage of only wearing a robe instead of his complicated uniform was that he wouldn’t have any buttons or zippers to fumble apart before relieving himself. He’d only need to loosen the belt a bit, part the material slightly, and he’d be good to go in just a second or two. 

Or, he would be if Elizabeth would just leave and give him some privacy! 

Kenneth knew he shouldn’t feel frustrated with Elizabeth, but he did anyway. He hated himself for the uncontrollable feelings of irritation. Elizabeth didn’t know that he needed to pee, nor did she know he was intending to do it into the drain, so there was no way she was keeping him from his relief on purpose. She just didn’t realize how much he needed for her to leave! 

But… God did he need her to! A particularly sharp pang from within, followed by a twitching, warm spasm down his length, made him reach to grab himself. He discovered another good thing about the robe, as he was able to get a very tight grip on his dick right away. In his uniform, he sometimes struggled to clutch himself as firmly as he needed to through all the stiff layers. Now though, he held himself, thumb and index finger squeezing his opening closed tightly. He shut his eyes, blocking out the taunting sight of the drain, and tried to focus all his energy on clamping himself shut, on how much better he felt now that his hand was giving his bladder some support. 

Elizabeth was going red in the face and gnashing her teeth together. Her need for relief seemed to have doubled since she’d forced herself to drink that bottle of water. Despite all of her knowledge and common sense telling her it wasn’t possible, it genuinely felt like every drop of that water had materialized inside her bladder the minute she’d swallowed it. She clenched her thigh muscles with all her might, and many times had to stop herself as her hands ached to press between her legs. 

She knew this was getting dangerous. Not only was she starting to fear she may have an accident, she also knew how terribly unhealthy it was to hold back immense quantities of urine for as long as she had. She just wished Kenneth would leave! He was still fidgeting, and wiping sweat off his brow every few seconds. Clearly he was getting bored of this, and the heat had ceased to be pleasant to him. She couldn’t understand why he was still in here!

Elizabeth also realized that there WAS an easy solution to her predicament; She could simply ASK Kenneth to step out for a minute. She didn’t even have to say that it was because she wanted to pee in the drain. She could claim she liked the way it felt to use a sauna naked and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She could say she’d forgotten something important in the dressing room and ask him to get it for her. 

But, the first felt just as awkward to say out loud as “I need to pee NOW and have no choice but to go in the drain!” did. And as for the second, she had no way to guarantee Kenneth wouldn’t come back into the sauna before she’d finished relieving herself. 

No. If she ended up having to tell Kenneth to get out, she was going to have to tell him the real reason. She winced, uncrossing her legs to hastily cross them back in the other direction, hoping they would act as a dam between the roaring flood within her bladder and the hole that it was trying like mad to pour out of. 

She wanted to tell him. She really did! Normally, Elizabeth didn’t have that much trouble saying she had to take a bathroom break— Even to a man— Everyone peed, it was just a fact of life. No reason to get worked up over it. But, this felt different. The only reason it felt different was the fact she was planning to let her bladder’s contents flow into an inappropriate spot. She didn’t mind planting the idea of her peeing in a toilet into people’s brains, but causing someone to picture her doing it down a drain in the floor? That DID make the hairs on her arms raise up a bit. 

She tried to tell herself that it STILL wasn’t such a big deal. Kenneth was with Dwight practically every moment of his life, and Elizabeth knew Dwight peed in odd places all of the time if a toilet wasn’t available. She’d heard about, or seen, Dwight relieving himself into vases or barrels lots of times. And Kenneth always seemed to just accept it as a thing Dwight did sometimes. 

So, Kenneth didn’t MIND if someone peed in a weird spot, he wouldn’t complain about it. All Elizabeth had to do was tell him to go outside for a few minutes, and then nothing would be standing between her and an empty bladder, aside from needing to get the robe out of the way of her stream.

But, as hard as she tried, she just could not manage to draw the words out of her lips. 

Kenneth was cursing himself for finishing that water. He was sure his bladder must have been swollen by now, full enough to cause a firm, round protrusion in his lower body. He didn’t part the robe to check, though. His hands were both too busy for that, one of them pinning his aching length against his thigh, and the other trying to dab away at the sweat that was running down his face in sheets. 

The heat wasn’t relaxing at all anymore, it was only adding to his stress as it tried to convince him that he needed MORE water, even when so much of it was already slamming itself against his opening. His bladder throbbed more and more violently with each passing second. It was beginning to seriously hurt, pee was boiling and bubbling inside of him, he swore he could feel it swishing about each time he adjusted himself in his seat. It ground down against his taut sphincters so much that— 

A horrendously intense spasm slammed into him, one of the worst he’d felt so far today. His breaths came in short, choppy inhales. He was trembling with the strain of holding back three enormous bottles of water, along with everything he’d had to drink that morning. He thought back to the pee he’d had moments before leaving his room, that relief seemed to have taken place years ago. So long that he could barely remember what it felt like to be empty… 

He had to do something. This was an emergency, his hand squeezing away at his dick wasn’t helping as much anymore! Elizabeth needed to leave soon, or Kenneth could seriously end up hurting himself! 

He had to… He had to just ask her! He had to tell her to leave… But, she’d want to know why. He would never tell her the real reason. Never ever! Not in a million years! He tried to come up with a different explanation, but his brain refused to supply him with one. All he could think about was how far beyond full his bladder felt. After so much liquid, the sensation of heaviness and pulsing that encompassed his lower half had reached a level of terrible urgency. 

He tried and tried to think clearly, to come up with something that would make Elizabeth leave and grant him the privacy he was dying for, but nothing came to him. But, he had to get her to depart somehow. He had no choice. He’d drank SO much that he’d filled up to his brim alarmingly fast. His mind refused to focus on anything other than the pounding, consistently flaring organ in his center that felt with each passing second like it was about to rip itself apart. 

He rocked back and forth in his seat, leaning himself against the pressure of his hand. He could feel his urethra throbbing and quivering from the immense strain it was under, so much pee rushing against it in harsh, awful waves. Against his will, a tiny whimpering squeak creaked past his clenched teeth. 

Elizabeth heard the noise and looked over to Kenneth, squeezing her thighs even more tightly. The flaring pressure within her ratcheted up tremendously as she turned her body just the slightest bit. Suddenly, she felt even more swollen and close to the point of actually exploding than she had just a second ago. She brought one foot up onto the seat with her and leaned her body against it. She wanted to cup herself with her hands, but for now she hoped her foot would do well enough against the tide. 

She forced herself to speak. It wasn’t easy. Her trembling jaw was clenched, her tongue stiff, and she barely managed to force out the words. “Are you okay, Kenneth?” She could hardly believe she had to go as badly as she did— It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two since she’d peed before leaving for town. Despite her efforts not to, a hand went to her crotch, and then she could feel how firm her bladder region had become. The organ was rock solid now, thrashing with rage at being made to stretch itself so far beyond a reasonable limit. 

At length, Kenneth made himself turn to face Elizabeth, he could practically feel the way his urine sloshed with even that tiny motion. His pee-hole burned and stung in an utterly horrid way for a second, and then the tiniest dribble of liquid seeped through it. He bore down hard on his muscles, pink in the face and shaking with the shame of that microscopic loss of control. He had to hold it. He had to hold it. He had to. There were no other options. Keep it in. Keep it in. Keep it in. “Huh?” he asked. 

“A—Are you okay?” Elizabeth managed, her gaze bouncing off Kenneth in order to stare back at the drain. Dear God, the thought of peeing into it… Or, for that matter, peeing ANYWHERE at all… It was doing something weird to her mind and body, making it feel as though it was a miracle she hadn’t just burst right there on the bench. 

Kenneth turned the question over in his brain, his thoughts were so sluggish it was as though he was trying to understand something that had been said in a foreign language. He wasn’t okay, of course. He was pretty far from it. And probably the only reason Elizabeth couldn’t figure out the issue yet was because the robe concealed the current placement of his hand so well. 

“I— I—“ Kenneth floundered. ‘I need to pee SO bad, Elizabeth! Please leave for a minute so I can go in the drain, please?! I know it’s gross, but there’s nowhere else and I’m going to burst!’ He wanted to say that! He wanted to SCREAM that! His bladder was BEGGING him to! “I’m… I’m fine…” he said instead, his denial prompting his bladder into a frenzy as it swelled even further and pinched against his opening with sick violence. ‘I need to go so bad…’ 

Elizabeth kept looking at him, he was red-faced and drenched in sweat. Overheating was something to watch out for, and… He probably needed more water… So Elizabeth was going to have to STAND UP and WALK to get it. Could she even DO that now? She didn’t think so. Unless it was walking to a spot where she could pee, she wasn’t going to risk moving around so much. “Kenneth, dear… I think you are getting too warm. You either need to drink some more, or…” she trembled, not daring to hope. “Or you can step out for a few minutes…” 

Kenneth could NOT step out for a few minutes! He had to PEE before he left! He couldn’t make it to another place! He’d burst! What was the other option…? Drinking more water. No. Please. He was… He was a little thirsty, but was it dangerous, or— Ohhhh, he could barely even keep a single thought inside his head! All he understood anymore was that he had to GO right the Hell now! “I’ll… I’ll drink some…” Kenneth struggled, hating himself for agreeing to it. But, now that he’d noticed his thirst, it was making him nervous. 

He dragged himself to his feet, but was unable to bring himself fully upright. His bladder, dismayed at his current decisions, flew into a fit of wild convulsions, so painful and urgent that he was unable to stop his second hand from clutching his cock. He bit back a moan, not daring to begin walking for several seconds. He just stood in place, his legs going numb from tension and his hands squeezing for all they were worth. ‘Need to… Please… It’s so bad!’ Finally, the throbbing wore off a tiny bit, enough for him to move to the other end of the room. 

Elizabeth watched him clumsily make his way to the water bottles on his unsteady feet, and thought that she had likely guessed what Kenneth’s issue was correctly; He was overheated and getting dehydrated again. It had happened pretty quickly after his last drink, but she’d seen Kenneth guzzle tons of water lots of times, maybe he just dried out faster than most people did. 

It was disappointing that he’d decided to just drink some fluid rather than leave the room to cool off, though. As she stared at Kenneth stumbling his way back to the bench, her bladder felt so heavy that she thought it may drag her right down through the bench, through the floor, all the way down to the center of the Earth. She rocked back and forth against her foot, occasionally palming her crotch. One of the times she did that, she felt fresh warmth and dampness, yet she hadn’t even felt the leak as it had exited her body; She was so full that it hadn’t registered past the pain. Her bladder trembled, her eyes watered, she couldn’t remember EVER needing to pee this badly. 

When Kenneth collapsed back onto the bench, Elizabeth again asked him in a trembling voice if he was sure he still felt okay in here. “G—Getting t—too hot isn’t good for you, dear…” she croaked out. 

Kenneth barely felt the heat anymore. He couldn’t feel much of anything beyond the clawing, horrid fullness in his middle. ‘I’m not too hot, I just need to GO!’ his mind screamed. ‘PLEASE, I can’t wait!’ He crossed his legs back and forth, shaking and shuddering and trembling from head to toe. 

‘He’s having convulsions!’ Elizabeth thought, panicked. ‘He’s really dehydrated, he’s seriously overheating…’ Trying to treat a sick person when her bladder was throbbing away tyrannically wasn’t ideal, but Kenneth needed her now. She moved her hand away from her groin, being punished for the hasty action when she felt a jet of pee immediately being pumped out of her body. She took the water bottle from Kenneth and opened it up for him, “Sweetie, here… You need to drink, you’re too—“ 

“I can’t hold it…” Kenneth whimpered quietly. So quietly that Elizabeth didn’t hear him. 

“Hm?” 

He fought to repeat himself, dying from shame and by the time he managed to squeak out “I need to… I have to relieve myself,” he was in tears. 

“O—Oh…” Elizabeth said, setting the bottle down now and returning her hand to its place between her legs. She crossed her legs and bounced in her place. “S—So do I,” she admitted. Her bladder throbbed its agreement, feeling as though the rock it was made out of was beginning to break apart. “I—“ her voice faltered. “I was gonna— In the drain in the floor, but—“ 

“So was I!” Kenneth said, feeling another sharp rush of heat down his length, followed by a single drop of pee escaping its prison. “B—But… You’re here! And I—“ He was interrupted by a harsh thudding inside his bladder that prompted him to double over. “Ohhhh, God… I can’t— You’re here, and I—“ 

“W—We can take turns!” Elizabeth said, heat bloomed between her legs and she adjusted the robe so she was no longer sitting on top of it and wetting it. It felt pretty damp already, but she’d saved it from any further soiling. “You can go first, and—“ 

“I can’t—“ Kenneth moaned, sweat gushing down his forehead as he fought for breath. 

“The door locks, there aren’t windows, you—“ 

“That’s— I DO think I can go here, but—“ Kenneth’s hands wrenched themselves more tightly around his cock. “When— I can’t if I know someone is waiting on me to finish,” he tried to explain. Knowing another person had to go and was likely getting impatient with how long it took for him to get things flowing was way too much pressure! It always ensured that he wouldn’t pee at all! 

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, a wave of pent up pee gushed onto the bench below her, dribbling against the surface before she could clamp it off. “You want me to go first, then?” 

“Yessssss,” Kenneth hissed, pained. “But, hurry?” He shot to his feet, then stumbled back as his holding muscles struggled to adjust to all the movement. “Hurry,” he repeated as he took minuscule, doubled-over steps towards the door. He wrestled it open, jumping in place and making tiny choked, sobbing sounds the whole time. He was so humiliated! Elizabeth was the last one of his friends to have never seen him quite this bad off before, and now she had! 

Now that Kenneth was in the changing room, Elizabeth had half a mind to ask him to dig through her pocket for her stand-to-pee device and toss it in here to her, but she decided against telling him that she had such a thing. That was something between her and Bryce, their own little secret of that unusual day they’d spent together. 

There wasn’t time for her to get the device, anyway. When she stood from the bench, another warm splash pushed its way out of her and spattered onto the floor. She dragged herself the short distance to the drain, pulled the robe up a bit, and was letting out a major gusher of a stream before she’d even squatted down all the way. She didn’t look, but she knew just from the noise that she’d been missing the drain. 

Once she was lowered further, she heard her pee being sucked away by the drain and figured she was mostly hitting the correct target now. After that realization came a second one; It was over. She could just… GO now. At last, Elizabeth relaxed herself fully, urine spraying out of her in uncontainable, hissing waves. She began to pant rapidly, eyes fluttering and losing focus. She moaned, and remembered that Kenneth was currently on the other side of the door, absolutely DYING to do what she was doing now. 

Feeling bad for him, Elizabeth pushed down harder and her stream picked up its speed, the hiss reaching an almost ear-shattering volume as bucket after bucket of urine was forcibly ejected from her body. 

Nearly a full minute later, Elizabeth was emptied. She stood quickly, and tried to ignore the jelly-like feeling in her legs so she could hurry to the door. She didn’t have time to collect herself at the end of her agonizing ordeal, Kenneth needed to be granted his own release as soon as possible. 

She opened the door to find Kenneth doubled over in a pained curtsey, his feet in constant motion and his hands clutching at his front so tightly his knuckles were turning white. 

Elizabeth’s heart clenched in the strangest way at the sight. Kenneth already looked so vulnerable, so in need of protection, without his uniform on. Seeing him writhe and squirm and tear up to such an extreme degree with it off made the effect even stronger. 

She didn’t have much time to look at the poor man’s urgent dancing as he pushed right past her, eager to put an end to his suffering. 

Kenneth fumbled the lock on the door into place and ran to the drain. Each time his foot hit the ground, it was like a mallet to his bladder, drawing out tiny dribbles. But he didn’t care. He needed to let it out NOW! 

As he’d predicted, the robe made it very easy for him to free his dick, in under a second he had it aimed at the drain, so close to letting it all flow… 

But, as ever, it wasn’t that simple for him. 

This was, of course, not the proper place for urination to take place in. Reminding himself that Elizabeth had already peed here did not make him feel any more comfortable about doing it himself. His muscles grew more taut, rather than loosening themselves up like they were meant to. 

Kenneth groaned loudly, “Come oooon!” he begged his body. “Please? I need to!” 

His body didn’t listen. 

Kenneth sighed. The whole point of this thing was supposed to have been to help him relax! But, clearly, it hadn’t. He still couldn’t pee! And the majority of his time here hadn’t even been that relaxing BECAUSE he’d spent it all needing to pee really bad! 

He’d… He’d felt calm for a bit there though, hadn’t he? 

Yes. When he’d been thinking about how Bryce might not ACTUALLY be that angry about him and Dwight being… Whatever they were. Kenneth hoped his assumptions were correct, that Bryce REALLY wouldn’t mind. Maybe Bryce would even… Protect them from other people finding out somehow. That would be nice. Then, he and Dwight could do those… those fun things more often. 

Those fun things usually got Kenneth good and relaxed. He always felt so light and comfy afterwards, so tired and soothed… When Dwight made him feel good, when Dwight placed his mouth onto Kenneth’s body… All of his problems seemed to fade away, and— 

Hsssssssssss….. 

An incredibly clear stream began to rapidly flow out of Kenneth’s tip, hitting the drain and tearing a moan from his lips. “Ahhhhhhh….” tingles jolted up and down his entire body, making his spine shudder and his cock twitch. He could feel his bladder slowly deflating, gently shrinking back down to its proper size. He felt like he was floating, like he wasn’t inside a sauna and doing something very improper. Like he wasn’t really anywhere at all. Just, in a void somewhere that was filled with nothing but pleasure and amazingly wonderful feelings. 

Kenneth’s entire body shuddered and shook as more and more pee flooded down the drain. He’d had so much to drink in here that his urine was totally clear, like he was just pissing out pure water. He kept moaning, kept gushing, his knees went weak and wobbly. By the time he was done, almost two minutes later, he could barely believe how much better everything felt. 

So much better…. So much better… Ahhh… Fuck… He was in Heaven, he felt so good, so empty, so light, so… Barely aware of what he was doing, he’d begun to stroke his dick rather than tucking it back away and re-tightening the belt of the robe. Tingles of pleasure flared up and down his length, all of the nerve endings there were so raw, so much more sensitive than they normally were after being put through all that strain and all that relief… 

“Hnnnh…” Kenneth panted, bleary eyed. He imagined Dwight pumping him like this, telling him how well he’d done, admitting out-loud to Elizabeth that he was going to explode and then managing to release it all here even though it had made him nervous… ‘You have earned this, Kenneth,’ he pictured Dwight saying. 

Kenneth was so over-stimulated, so overcome by the wonderful feelings he’d been bathing in for the past several minutes, that before he knew it was cumming, twitching and moaning as the ecstasy pulsed through him and out of him. He just stayed there, breathing heavily for a few seconds, and then—

‘WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DID I JUST DO?!’ 

His eyes flashed open, and he was relieved that the majority of his semen had ended up in the drain rather than spattering the floor, but… He’d just… He’d… In a public place— Alone and with the door locked, but still! 

And— And he’d done it because— 

He hadn’t been thinking— 

And— 

It had just felt so good to finally go, he just— 

No. His… His relief… It had not… It hadn’t made him do that… Thinking about that stuff with Dwight when he was calming himself down that had done it, that was it. Being pee-shy, hurting himself over and over again, the mental pain, the shame… None of those things were good. Well. Okay, maybe the ‘relief’ part pretty much always was, but that was it. Just a silver lining to an otherwise horrible condition that wrecked his life on a daily basis. 

This was just… He’d gotten himself all worked up thinking about Dwight like that, gotten himself overly sensitive from pushing his muscles to the limit, and his body had just… Reacted. It was normal. It was natural. He… 

He’d been ignoring this for a long time, but he’d come to notice that the feelings he got when he climaxed with Dwight in bed, or while stroking himself, were… An awful lot like the ones he got when he finally peed after holding it for extreme lengths of time. His body would feel like it was floating, every last nerve ending he had would be consumed by bliss… But, with peeing, that feeling usually lasted over two minutes, much longer than any orgasm he’d ever had. 

This was gross. He shouldn’t have been comparing those two feelings. Of course peeing when he had to do so very badly felt good. It was supposed to feel good. But, was it really supposed to feel THAT good? He didn’t think so… Then again, he held in more than anyone else he knew. He’d never once seen another person just… Spray for two minutes non-stop like he did regularly. Letting go of that much would probably feel just as orgasmic to someone else if they ever did it, it didn’t mean there was anything NEW wrong with Kenneth. It was just the same old thing; His body made him hold way too much pee for way too long. 

He’d gotten carried away from his imagination and extreme levels of relief today. That was all. It didn’t mean that there was suddenly an aspect to his problem that he enjoyed way, WAY too much. Peeing was not supposed to feel like cumming. For a normal person, a person without Kenneth’s awful condition, the two things weren’t comparable. 

He retied the robe and left the sauna. Elizabeth was no longer in the changing room, which was good. Kenneth needed more time to calm himself down before he allowed someone else to see him. He got dressed quickly, and hoped his face wasn’t too red as he went out into the hallway. 

Elizabeth was waiting for him right there. She leaned into him, “Do you feel better now?” she whispered. 

Kenneth nodded, almost imperceptibly. His bladder felt better, that was for sure. But, inside he felt all sorts of mixed up. His body regularly forced him to hold his pee for so long that releasing it felt like an extremely long orgasm. And while he certainly wasn’t going to bemoan a two minute long orgasm, it sort of just… It freaked him out. It was surely not normal. Probably not very healthy, either.

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They had been invited to a special party at The Leader’s villa, attended by all sorts of important figures. Kenneth’s anxiety was sky-high, he really didn’t want to make a bad impression on anyone, and he never really enjoyed parties to begin with. Too many people all trying to talk to him about stuff he knew nothing about, usually lots of alcohol smells bringing him back to places he didn’t like to go. 

He ended up mostly standing off in a corner through the beginning of the party, scolding himself for feeling so uncomfortable just because of a particular SMELL. That was such a pathetic thing to be getting upset over. He didn’t understand why it affected him the way it did, just because this room had the same odor that always clung to his Father, that didn’t mean the man had suddenly sprung back to life. It was dumb for him to feel so on edge right now, but he did anyway. 

He felt even sillier when he started to worry that other people were noticing that he didn’t have a drink in his hand. What if The Leader, or someone else important, thought he was being rude for not partaking in it? ‘I doubt anybody is even paying attention to that,’ Kenneth told himself, but the nervousness lingered. At one point, he even approached a table to grab one of the beverages he saw other people taking, but his hand had gone stony and still as he suddenly envisioned himself becoming his Father after only one sip. He pictured himself unable to get out of bed without the aid of liquor, hurting everyone around him, passing out randomly and waking up with no memory of what he’d been doing, day after day. 

‘You drank that stuff accidentally once before,’ Kenneth reminded himself. ‘And that didn’t happen.’ Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the drink. It didn’t even look like a drink to him, it looked like a serum designed to turn him into someone he would hate and fear, even faster than the angry demon that lived inside his head could. 

Still, he felt so awkward… He reached for a water instead, gulping it down in spite of the fact he didn’t even feel his psychosomatic, anxious-thirst. He jumped when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, spinning around. 

Karl. 

Why the Hell had Karl been invited here? Kenneth didn’t have time to ponder that before the other man was speaking, “Ah, Paulson,” he said. Kenneth was just about to remind him of the warning he’d given following their last encounter, when Karl continued; “First person here tonight that I recognize.” 

“And?” Kenneth asked. It was clear that Karl had been drinking, and that he’d had a lot more than just water. He was swaying on his feet, sort of like what he’d been doing during their holding contest, but much slower. 

“I’m spending tonight at the inn,” Karl explained. “An’, I’m probably gonna need someone to help me get there if I keep drinking like this.” 

He… Had to be kidding, surely? He wanted a fucking favor?! He was asking someone whom HATED him for a favor, just so he could get extra drunk tonight? “Are you serious?” Kenneth said, dryly. Ideas flashed through his brain, of walking an intoxicated Karl far, FAR away from civilization and just ditching him there. Maybe he’d get captured by an enemy if Kenneth took him far enough out, or he could be mugged, or eaten by a pack of lions that somehow flew here all the way from Africa. 

Or, at least, Kenneth could be satisfied in knowing he’d gotten the guy badly lost while he was in a state of mind that would make it extra hard to find his way. 

“Yes,” Karl nodded. “Haven’t had time off like this in a month, want to enjoy it as much as I can.” 

Idiot. He was a freaking idiot. Kenneth had no interest in getting this guy back to the inn safely. He wouldn’t even feel bad if Karl got lost or hurt trying to navigate in the dark while drunk off his ass. “No,” Kenneth said. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.” 

“But, you’re the best with directions.” 

This much WAS true, Kenneth could mentally map out any town after only exploring it once, and had learned to use the positions of the stars in the night sky to navigate through the woods in the dark. But, a person didn’t need to be particularly skilled to find the inn from here, it wasn’t that far. And he REALLY didn’t understand why the Hell Karl was complimenting him. “So? Other people can walk you there. Or, you could choose not to drink so much that you need help.” 

Karl paused, taking a sip from his glass. “You and Smith,” he stated, and Kenneth’s blood was running cold before the other man even finished his sentence. “You seem very, VERY close…” 

The world around Kenneth seemed to get a lot louder as he became way too aware of how many people were near him. “We… Are best friends.” 

“Are you now?” Karl asked. “Is that why I see you both go into the bathroom together so often?” 

Fuck. Kenneth had been terrified of this, he’d been worried that someone would see THAT and somehow piece together the rest. His mind spun, and he remembered what Dwight had said when he’d expressed this concern to him. “We both just have to go at the same time a lot,” he shrugged stiffly. 

“But, you go into ones with only ONE toilet together,” Karl said. “I’ve noticed it. And I’ve heard it, those noises you make. That’s not what the two of you are doing in there.” 

Noises…? Kenneth was confused. The only noise he would be making while Dwight helped him piss would be the sound of his stream splashing out, right? And how could someone mistake the hiss of pee hitting porcelain for anything else? He chose to focus on the first half of Karl’s statement instead; “Sometimes we both REALLY have to go and can’t wait on each other,” he stammered. He was blushing, he knew he was. Talking about not being able to hold his pee was still a far superior option than explaining the truth and, by extension, telling Karl about his shy-bladder AND giving him a hint that he was actually right about Kenneth and Dwight’s relationship. 

“Th—That’s all it is,” Kenneth continued. “We have to drink so much water, you know? A—And we can’t hold it forever. If there’s only one toilet, we’ll just go together because it’s an emergency. It feels really weird and awkward, of course, but when you need to go, you need to go!” He was rambling and he knew it, words spraying from his mouth uncontrollably, adding far more detail than could ever be necessary. 

“Then, what the Hell is with all the moaning?” Karl asked. 

Moaning?! Who was— Kenneth felt blood draining from his face as a black hole of embarrassment opened up below his feet. He didn’t… Did he? Peeing definitely felt really good to him— A little TOO good, as he’d realized lately. But, did it really make him MOAN without even noticing? God, no! Please! That was humiliating! Making loud, perverse sounds while he pissed!? He’d never— Karl was lying, Kenneth would never, EVER—

But, apparently he MUST have… And he MUST have been doing it super, SUPER loudly if Karl had been able to overhear it at some point, because Kenneth could never release his bladder if HE could hear that someone was close near the door. 

And Karl thought he was making those noises for a different reason, a dangerous reason. He had to bite the bullet and tell the truth; That he apparently made ridiculous, mortifying sounds while he emptied his bladder. “I… Um…” heat returned to his face as he tried to speak. “I… If I really, REALLY needed to go, sometimes when I finally… Do it…I make those sounds.” The anxiety in his chest felt like a lead weight, and he took a few more nervous sips from his water glass in an attempt to soothe it away. 

Karl’s lip twitched into a smile, and then he was laughing. “You moan like you’re being sucked off whenever you take a piss? Really?” 

God… Were his moans really THAT intense? They— They honestly may have been… There were times Kenneth had been so desperate that letting go actually DID feel as good as Dwight’s lips around his dick… That couldn’t have been normal. Peeing wasn’t supposed to feel like that. 

“Y—Yes, I—“ he scrunched his eyes closed, stomped a foot against the floor out of pure agitation. A new anxiety was blooming within him, how many OTHER people had heard him moan like… like THAT just from pissing? How loud did he get? How far did those humiliating noises travel? And everybody probably assumed, like Karl did, that he was moaning from a different sort of pleasure. Anyone who accidentally overheard Kenneth vocalize his relief probably thought he was touching himself in a public space! And if they’d seen Dwight going into the restroom with him before hearing those noises… “I— I don’t mean to sound like that,” he finished lamely. “I didn’t even realize…” 

“Pfft,” Karl snorted. 

Rage joined the nervousness in Kenneth’s chest. How dare this scum laugh at him for something he couldn’t help— For something he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing!? He worked hard, focused all his energy on transforming his mortification into arrogance. “And— And— Um… Of course it feels that good, if you could hold it as long as I can, you’d make those sounds too!” 

Karl’s laughter ceased, his expression becoming harsh and stormy. Kenneth knew straight away that he’d struck a nerve. “Okay, so I’LL believe you really are just pissing in there,” he said icily. “But, what if I were to tell other people the things I’ve seen and heard? What if I go around and tell everyone I know that you two go into the bathroom together and then a few minutes later I hear you panting and gasping like that? What do you suppose they’d think?” 

Kenneth’s tongue went dry, shakily he had a few more sips of water. Relationships between the guards were utterly forbidden, and the penalty was far, FAR worse if those guards were the same sex. If Karl told a bunch of people, there would be tons of eyes on Kenneth and Dwight all the time, everything they did would be scrutinized, everything they said to each other… They WOULD be found out if enough people started to pay close attention. Their lives would be in ruins before long. 

And the thing that would have set that ball rolling WOULDN’T have been the two of them getting carried away, not being careful enough. No, it would ultimately be the fault of Kenneth’s stupid fucking pissing problem. It would be ALL Kenneth’s fault if the dots were connected and Dwight got hurt by it. Entirely the fault of Kenneth and his uncooperative, disobedient body that couldn’t work right. 

“Nothing to say?” Karl gathered after a few seconds. “Well, I won’t say a word to anyone, don’t worry. You just have to do this one, little favor for me that REALLY won’t take much out of you. All you have to do is walk me back to the inn at the end of the night, and I’ll forget all about everything I’ve seen and heard. That’s not so much, is it?” 

Kenneth shook his head, “I—It’s not…” he admitted. He just had to endure walking beside a person he hated while said person was intoxicated and smelling just like his Father. He only had to put up with that for thirty minutes or so, and then it would be over. And they were both staying at the inn anyway, both going to the same place. Everything would be okay. 

He just had to be… Alone with someone who hated him and had a history of extreme cruelty towards those he disliked. 

“W—Why does it have to be JUST me, though? Dwight doesn’t drink, either. He’d be—“ 

“Ah, you want me to be alone with him?” Karl interrupted. 

No. That was the last thing Kenneth would ever want. “I meant that we could both do it. A—And Bryce too, all three of us.” Yes. Both Dwight and Bryce. Two people who were stronger than Kenneth was, just in case something were to— 

“I don’t think I need three people walking me,” Karl said. 

Maybe so, but Kenneth needed to not be alone with this man. “I— I would really feel more comfortable if—“ 

Karl rolled his eyes, “Alright, FINE.” His annoyance was palpable, but Kenneth didn’t care. Going anywhere alone with Karl would be a terrible decision. 

“G—Good,” Kenneth said. “Let me go get them and we can—“ 

“Oh no, I’m not ready to leave yet,” Karl said. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” 

Kenneth gave a tiny nod. He’d been ready to leave for a while, ever since the moment Karl had shown up. He wasn’t comfortable. He really, really wasn’t comfortable… 

Some of that discomfort, he now realized, was coming from his bladder. The big glass of water he’d anxiously consumed hadn’t been the best thing for him. He tensed his thighs up and walked away, trying to put the urge out of his mind. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to go here. The restroom was in constant use, there had been a line for it all evening. Lines made him so nervous, the idea of someone waiting for him to pee and wondering why the Hell it was taking him so long. And… So many people out here that would hear if he accidentally moaned like he apparently did… He couldn’t even ask Dwight for assistance, because it would definitely be noticed if they went in together and now he KNEW for a fact that it didn’t look right. 

He couldn’t pee here. So, he had to do his best to pretend that he didn’t NEED to pee and hope that it would go away. 

It didn’t. 

Half an hour later and Kenneth was crossing his legs as he stood off to one side, the annoying tingles running down his length were beginning to feel warm and electric. His hand had found its way to his mouth and he was chewing hard on his knuckles. 

Not long after he began to gnaw on his fingers, Dwight emerged from the crowd to stand beside him, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder. Dwight lowered his voice, “Um… There’s still a line for the restroom,” he pointed out. “I don’t know if—“ 

“I can’t,” Kenneth shook his head. “There’s no way.” 

Dwight nodded. He didn’t prod his friend, didn’t try to coax him into ‘trying’. From the looks of it, that line was going to take at least half an hour to get through, after which Kenneth would be unlikely to achieve the relief he needed. Dwight could get Kenneth back to the inn within the same amount of time, where it was basically GUARANTEED he’d be able to pee. 

Dwight had been getting bored anyway… “Want to head back for the night?” 

“No,” Kenneth said miserably as it hit him that he had NO idea how much longer he was going to have to keep holding this in. “We can’t.” 

“We ca—“ 

“We need to walk Karl back to the inn with us,” Kenneth explained. “He ordered me to, because he wants to drink more.” 

“And you agreed?” 

“I HAD to, or else he was going to…” Kenneth lowered his voice. “He was going to tell people to… To, um, keep an eye on… Us… And—“ 

Dwight sucked in a sharp breath, “How does he know—“ 

“He doesn’t KNOW,” Kenneth promised. “But, he’s seen us do things that made him suspicious… The… Uh… The peeing thing. He’s seen us go in together and then he says he heard me… Dwight, um, do I… Moan a lot when I pee?” 

Dwight fell silent. He didn’t know how to respond. “I… It depends on what you mean by ‘a lot’…” 

“Oh my God…” Kenneth winced. 

“Don’t… Don’t be embarrassed, it’s… I like the noises you make,” Dwight stammered. ‘Fuck, why would I say that?!’ he asked himself. “I— I like to hear them, lets me know I helped you!” 

Kenneth didn’t appear to be feeling any better about it. 

“Well… That’s ALL Karl has seen, right?” Dwight asked. 

“Yes, that’s all he mentioned, and… He believed me when I said that I was just… Peeing. But, then he said he’s going to ask other people to… Watch us closely if I didn’t walk him home. And I made him agree to let you and Bryce join us because I don’t want to be alone with him.” 

“I understand,” Dwight said. Looked like Kenneth hadn’t been given much of a choice here. “I’ll go ask Karl if he’s ready to go yet.” 

Kenneth nodded. He really hoped that Karl was getting bored, or tired. Kenneth shimmied his hips as he pressed his back into the wall behind him. His eyes kept sliding towards the long line for the toilet. As he watched the people squirming as they waited for it, he seethed with jealousy as he kept squirming in his corner. Sure, they all had to wait until it was their turn to go, but at least when their turn arrived they’d be able to make use of it! 

Kenneth badly wished he could just take his place at the end of the line, hold it there for only a little bit longer and know that relief was coming just as soon as the people ahead of him had finished. That sounded so simple. So easy. The folks in that line, even the ones whom were really fidgeting, didn’t realize how lucky they were. They may have to go badly now, but their bodies weren’t going to disobey them later. 

Kenneth forced himself to look away, he tried to pretend that there wasn’t actually a toilet here because, as far as his bladder was concerned, that toilet really didn’t exist. There was nowhere here that he could pee, so he needed to stop thinking about how much he had to. 

Dwight returned, looking apologetic. “Karl says he doesn’t want to leave yet… Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Kenneth promised, tightening his hands around the bottom of his shirt. “I just need… Distract me, okay? I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s getting worse.” 

“Okay,” Dwight said. He thought back to the day he’d been here and the toilet hadn’t been working, he thought about how Kenneth had taken him outside so that he could water a bush. Would that work better for Kenneth right now? “Let’s go outside for a minute, alright?” 

Kenneth nodded. Being away from all the alcohol smells that reminded him of Father would hopefully make him feel at least a tiny bit less nervousness. He knew his anxiety was adding to the pressure inside his bladder. 

One step outside, and Dwight knew that this WASN’T going to solve Kenneth’s problem. He’d been convinced that the garden would be devoid of other people, but instead it was just as crowded as the inside had been. 

He looked back towards his friend and, from the disappointment on his face, he knew Kenneth had suspected the real reason Dwight took him out here and had gotten his hopes up too high. He also noticed that Kenneth’s hands had inched closer to his crotch in the time it had taken them to reach the outdoors. 

Dwight said nothing about the crowd, made no mention of the foiled plan that they’d both secretly been counting on. “S—So, you need distraction?” 

“Y—Yes… I— Shit, I hate Karl. If it wasn’t for his dumb ass I could be…’Going’ right now.” 

“Don’t think about ‘going’, Kenneth,” Dwight said gently. “Think about… Um… Think about how funny it would be if Karl got so drunk that we could ditch him out in the middle of nowhere without him realizing until it’s too late.” 

Kenneth smiled, but it quickly turned into a grimace when a bolt of need flared through his middle. It felt like his bladder was being held underneath a massive, gushing faucet; waves of liquid being dumped into it with each second. He shifted from side to side, but it wasn’t helping. If anything, all the foot-hopping he couldn’t help was just making it worse, shaking his bladder and knocking it in every direction. “Hnnh, but then he’d… Tell.” 

“I know…” Dwight sighed. His eyes hadn’t left his friend; his squirming had gotten more pronounced since when they’d been inside. If Kenneth was dancing around like this in such a populated area, he must have REALLY not been able to control it… “Think we could just… Go back to the inn really fast and come back here after you’re, uh, ‘feeling better’?” 

Kenneth shook his head frantically, strands of his blond hair flying out of place. “What if Karl decides he wants to leave while we are gone? And he gets so angry that—“ 

“Okay, okay,” Dwight interrupted with a frown. Something needed to be done, he hated seeing the person he cared about most of all so unhappy. “Perhaps The Leader will allow you to use his private facilities?” 

Kenneth flinched. The Leader was very particular about keeping the personal areas of the villa personal. Kenneth had never even seen the rooms in which the man actually LIVED, only the guest rooms, and the rooms used for official business and parties like this one. He pictured himself asking The Leader— The most powerful man in the country, the most important person he KNEW— for a piss break. He pictured himself EXPLAINING to the Leader why the bathroom everyone ELSE was using wouldn’t work for him. “I can’t… I don’t— He doesn’t let people—“

“We can just ask…” Dwight said. “The worst he can say is no.” 

“But… He can’t know about my problem… Please? Not him, that will be like telling the entire country!” Kenneth’s whimpering was cut off by a revolting harsh spasm that made him feel like his bladder was having sharp arrows shot into it. He tensed his thighs, gripped onto his hip with one hand and stomped a foot against the ground with a gasp. “Ah—!” 

“We don’t have to tell him that!” Dwight said. “Just… We can say you really need to go and the line is too long!” 

Kenneth didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, his bladder was screaming so loud that he couldn’t get a word in. But, the look on his face was clear in its meaning; “That’s not much better!”

“We can say we BOTH really need to go and the line is too long,” Dwight amended. “Less embarrassing if you aren’t alone, right?” 

“Ohhh, I guess…” Kenneth managed. “Can… Um… Can we find him fast, though?” 

“As fast as we can,” Dwight promised. He took one of Kenneth’s wrists, trying not to pay attention to how close his friend was to grasping his crotch now. He was obviously fighting tooth and nail not to begin holding himself, but his bladder was BEGGING him to give it that extra support. 

They went back inside. Against his will, Kenneth was staring in the direction of the restroom again. The line was even longer now. It would take forever to wait through it, jiggling and bouncing and crossing his legs until he couldn’t feel his feet… Then, he’d finally have his turn to use it, stand there miserably for a few minutes and leave with his bladder more irritated and bloated than ever. He heard the toilet flush, saw a man exit with a relieved look on his face, and he wanted to scream just from the unfairness of it all. Kenneth knew he had to go way worse than that man could have needed it, yet HE was the one that had been able to empty out so freely and easily! 

Kenneth just HAD to hope that they found The Leader fast, and that the man would allow him to use a nice, private toilet. He HAD to allow it! He HAD to! Kenneth would explode otherwise! “Wha—What if he says no?” Kenneth asked in a soft panic.

“Ummmm….” Dwight reddened, “Well… Uh, remember the first day we met him? How I… Uh, couldn’t find the bathroom and got the carpet wet?” 

Kenneth nodded. He could never forget that. He’d had to spring in front of his friend and babble at the top of his voice about nonsense as he waved his arms all over the place to try and shield Dwight from some of the embarrassment! In time, Dwight had felt less humiliated by it and was willing to make jokes with Kenneth about the incident. 

“Well… I could remind him about that… Tell him how I can’t wait very long. I doubt he wants a puddle on the floor again.” 

Kenneth was touched that Dwight was willing to remind The Leader, of ALL people, about what was doubtlessly one of the most embarrassing days of his entire life, just to help him feel a little more comfortable. 

“Heh,” Dwight smiled. “I mean, I doubt he’s forgotten about it either… The stain’s probably still there.”

“Heheh— Oooh,” Kenneth’s laughter was cut short by a sensation which he would liken to that of a knife being jabbed straight into his piss-hole. They were trying to traverse a much more crowded area now, and Kenneth was getting knocked around, his bladder being jostled and squeezed in ways that were absolutely torturous. 

“Sorry…” Dwight winced at his friend’s clear pain, trying to push his way through the crowd. The issue was he had no clue where The Leader would be right now. When he had celebrations like this, he usually did a big speech at some point during the night and Dwight knew he’d be able to find him perfectly easily then… But, he didn’t know how much longer it would be until that speech. 

What he DID know was that Kenneth would probably tear out his spleen if he then interrupted The Leader’s speech to announce that Kenneth’s bladder was close to rupturing and that he needed the toilet right the Hell now. 

Waiting until the speech wasn’t a good plan. 

Before Dwight could consider where to search first, someone was approaching them; Karl. Dwight’s first thought was— almost— relief. Was Karl ready to go now? “H—Hello, Karl,” Dwight said. “Want to leave?” 

“No,” Karl answered automatically. “Holding hands, I see?” 

Dwight quickly dropped Kenneth’s wrist and shoved his hand into his pocket. Kenneth stuffed his newly freed hand into his mouth and bit down hard. 

The good news was that Kenneth’s weird behavior seemed to make Karl forget about the hand-holding. The bad news was that he chose to call attention to it, “Why the Hell do you do that?” 

“Hm?” 

“You gnaw on your own freaking hands,” Karl said. “Why?” 

Kenneth spat his hand out. He tried to stop his squirming as well, but he couldn’t do that. “Just… Nervous…” Now that he wasn’t chewing his knuckles, his urge to grab his dick and squeeze down tight was worsening. 

“What have you got to be nervous about?” 

“Nothing… Can we leave soon?” Kenneth asked. 

Karl shook his head, “Nope. I’m having fun. Aren’t you?” 

Kenneth was having the exact opposite of fun. All of his energy needed to go towards controlling one specific, exhausted ring of muscles. He had none left for ‘fun’. “I’m… Tired…” he said. 

“You’re moving around an awful lot for somebody who’s tired,” Karl noted. He watched as Kenneth swayed and struggled to keep himself from doubling over. “You have too much to drink?” 

YES. Kenneth had had WAY too much to drink! His bladder couldn’t fit all of it! And now he was being too obvious about— 

“You still need to walk me home, you know?” Karl reminded. 

Oh. Right. THAT kind of ‘too much to drink’. The kind of ‘too much to drink’ that Kenneth DIDN’T routinely fall victim to. “N—No, I didn’t drink too much. I just… Want to leave.” 

“Yeah,” Dwight faked a yawn. “It is getting very late, Karl. We should go.” 

“We leave when I say we leave,” Karl said. “Unless you want me to tell—“ 

“Alright, alright!” Dwight scrambled out. “Uh, c—come on, Kenneth…” And they resumed their search. 

They didn’t find The Leader, but they found Bryce resting tiredly against a wall. “There you two are,” he said. “I was just about to—“ 

“Karl says we need to walk him home,” Dwight interrupted. “And that we can’t leave until he’s ready.” 

“What?” Bryce was going slightly pale. “Paulson, I thought you got him to—“ 

“I—“ Kenneth’s knees rubbed together, his hands pinned between them as they strained to move up towards his crotch. “I thought I did, too… But, now he’s…Um… Kind of blackmailing me, sort of.” 

“Blackmailing you? With what?” 

Kenneth and Dwight exchanged nervous glances. “W—We can’t say,” Dwight told him. “But…” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Kenneth REALLY needs to—“ 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Bryce interrupted, much to Kenneth’s embarrassment. “Can’t go here, though?” 

Dwight shook his head. “We are trying to find The Leader, maybe he will allow Kenneth to go somewhere more private. Have you seen him?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Bryce said. “I could help you look, though.” 

So, that was what they did. The three of them searched all areas of the villa that were open to the public tonight, but they couldn’t find the one person they were looking for. Kenneth grew more and more anxious and desperate the longer the search went on. He wished he could just find SOMEWHERE that wasn’t teeming with other people! If he could just find a vacant hallway with a conveniently placed potted plant, he thought that maybe THAT would be enough for him! But, every last nook and cranny was full of eyes and ears that would bear witness to Kenneth’s gushing stream, so he knew there wasn’t anywhere he would actually be able to release it! 

At some point, his bladder had finally succeeded in forcing Kenneth to grab himself. And, once he’d done it, he couldn’t let go. One hand wrapped tightly around his length while the other tried to pinch and squeeze his opening closed. He was hurting himself, but trying to stop these actions felt even worse! 

After a while, they ran into Karl again. Breathlessly, Kenneth asked if he was ready to leave. His poor bladder had been ready to leave for what felt like years… 

Karl shook his head. He appeared to be pretty inebriated now, enough so that Kenneth reasoned he really DID need an escort to the inn. He was swaying and slurring his words, bumping into people without noticing… Kenneth was again struck by how much Karl reminded him of his Father. He hoped alcohol did not effect Karl the same way it did his Father, turning a generally cruel person into someone downright monstrous… 

“Please?” Kenneth begged, aware of how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been here so long! He’d been HOLDING IT so long! “I’m… Really, really tired.” 

Karl looked Kenneth over. Kenneth did not appear the least bit sleepy. It looked like he had more energy than he knew what to do with, every bit of him was wriggling… “Looks more like you need to piss.” 

Kenneth went quiet. 

“Looks like you need to piss really bad,” Karl emphasized. “What’s the matter? Can someone not make it through the line?” 

“I… Um… I…” 

“He does need to go,” Dwight cut in, ignoring the sharp look his friend shot him. “But… Come on, look at that line over there! We could be at the inn in HALF the time it’d take Kenneth to wait through that whole thing!” 

“Well,” Karl shrugged. “I’m not leaving yet. So, he may as well get in line instead of dancing around like a toddler.” 

“But…” Kenneth’s ears burned. WHY did Dwight have to CONFIRM that he had to go!? Now he couldn’t refuse to go to the restroom without Karl asking why— Without having to TELL Karl why! He was STUCK. “I…” 

Dwight turned to Kenneth. He’d honestly thought that his argument— that it would be quicker to go back now than deal with the line for the toilet— would have some sway in Karl’s mind. Apparently not. “C—Come on, Kenneth…” he said finally, about to lead Kenneth off. 

“Why don’t you just go fucking piss?” Karl asked. “Obvious that you gotta. And I know how much you like doing it…” he started to snort with laughter. 

Kenneth had never felt so humiliated. “I—“ 

“God, just go,” Karl said. “You’re making me have an accident just looking at you.” 

Utterly ashamed, Kenneth pushed his way towards the line for the toilet, just to shut Karl up, just to avoid having to… Having to tell him what the real problem was. Maybe he’d actually pee when his turn came. He knew that he had a better chance of winning the lottery and then being struck by lightning three times all in the same day than he did of emptying his bladder out in there. But, perhaps he could manage to get just a TINY bit of his pee to come out, just enough to take the edge off so that he could wait until Karl said they could leave in relative comfort. 

Kenneth’s condition NOW was no doubt obvious as Hell. He was twisting his hips, stomping his feet, digging his hands into his groin… All while standing at the end of a massive line for the toilet. It was clear as day that he was bursting at the seams, that the level of piss in his body probably outweighed the amount of blood he had. To his dismay, he found he didn’t even care that much if people were looking at his desperate dancing. He didn’t care if they saw him squirming as he waited for the toilet, that was an understandable thing to do after all. 

No, what he cared about was the likelihood that he would soon LEAVE that restroom squirming just as much. Because THAT wasn’t an understandable thing to do. Anyone who saw him exit with his hands still kneading against his crotch would think something was seriously wrong with him. 

BECAUSE something was seriously wrong with him. 

No. No. He was thinking too negatively. He needed to stop ASSUMING that he wouldn’t go, even if everything in him was screaming that this was the case. He had to tell himself that he COULD pee here. Maybe if he repeated that thought to himself enough times, it would convince his body that it was true. 

‘I’m going to pee,’ Kenneth thought. ‘As soon as my turn comes, I’m going to lock the door, lift the seat, pull down my zipper and just GO. Just like I would in my own room. I won’t even have to think about it. I’ll just see I’m at the toilet, and then I’ll pee. I’m going to pee. I’m going to pee.’ 

His attempts to banish his spiraling self-doubt and anxiety did nothing to quell the nervous tide inside his chest. It did a whole Hell of a lot to his bladder, though. Each time he mentally chanted ‘I’m going to pee!’ his bladder pulsated and a scorching fire would ignite down his length and blaze around his piss-hole. Finally, he had to make himself stop. It was doing much more harm than it was good. 

Without noticing it, he’d begun to whine in the back of his throat. He had no idea he was doing it— much less that he was doing it loudly— until the person ahead of him turned around. He recognized one of The Leader’s servants that he’d seen a few times. “Oh, go ahead of me!” she said. “You need it way more than I do!” 

Kenneth tried to look grateful, but internally now all he could think about was how she was going to be stuck waiting as he tried— and most likely failed— to piss. 

After hearing that woman let him cut, a few more people stared at Kenneth. He squirmed under their gaze from a lot more than desperation, and winced as a couple of them ALSO allowed him to cut. 

If he was normal, he would have been appreciative of this. If he was normal, all this gesture would mean would be that he’d be peeing a lot sooner. 

But, he wasn’t normal, and having strangers put his needs before their own only made him feel more awkward, more embarrassed, more nervous about what was going to happen when he inevitably froze up in there. 

His turn came eventually, and he tried to remember the mental pep-talk he’d been giving himself before his bladder had gotten too excited by it. Just like he’d told himself he would, he locked the door, lifted the seat on the toilet and unzipped himself. With trembling hands, he pulled out his member and aimed it. 

Unlike in his earlier fantasy though, he didn’t just go. Of course he didn’t just go. He could never just go. And he did think about it. He thought about it a whole lot. He thought about the people waiting on him, and the crowd that existed beyond the door. So many people who would hear the hiss of his stream as well as— he now realized— the uncontrollable moans that were probably going to pour from his mouth. 

His bladder flared, angry and urgent, as he stared at the toilet. ‘Pleaaaaase,’ he begged it. ‘I want to gooooo! It’s all I want! Please! I’ll do anything!” He’d peed into this toilet a few times before, when he’d visited the Leader and there WASN’T a big party going on outside. He told himself that since he’d relieved himself here in the past, that meant he should be able to do it again regardless of what was happening beyond the door. 

But, he couldn’t. His bladder just grew more taut, his body becoming engulfed in cold sweat as he gritted his teeth, squeezed down hard on his muscles and BEGGED for just the teeniest smidge of relief. Just a drop! Just one drop would feel wonderful! Please, please, please! Don’t wanna hold it anymore! 

He was shaking so bad that he couldn’t aim right anymore. His knees were sore. Everything felt so heavy… He pulled down his pants, lowered the seat and collapsed on the bowl, hoping he might have SOME luck getting it out while sitting down. He leaned forwards, his bladder being crushed beneath his own weight, but nothing splashed forth. Not even a pitiful, little dribble of a stream. His piss was just as trapped as he was, unable to break free until stupid Karl decided it was time for them to leave. 

And then what? He’d have to walk all the way back to the inn. The walk lasted thirty minutes typically. But, Karl would be intoxicated and moving slower. Kenneth would be dragging a two ton boulder of piss and moving slower. It would take FOREVER to reach the inn now. And once he was there, he’d have to get up to his room— The stairs would be impossible, and the elevator was still so faulty there so it may end up getting stuck. Either way, getting up to the next floor would be HELL. Next, he’d have to unlock the door to his room, get to the toilet, unzip… He’d die. He’d actually fucking DIE before he managed all that. 

And it could all be avoided if he could just freaking PISS right where he was sitting NOW. There was NO god damned reason that he couldn’t pee right this very second! None at all! He was on a toilet! His pants were down! Nothing standing between him and relief but his own stupid fucking body! 

“Please…” Kenneth whimpered out loud now. “Please, I need to… I need to so bad…” He realized he was crying and furiously brushed the tears away. 

When he heard the knock on the door, he sniffed hard, pulled up his pants, flushed even though he hadn’t let go of a drop. The sound of the water running down the pipes made him shudder. He knew he ought to wash his hands since he HAD touched the toilet seat, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn the faucet on, much less stick his hands underneath the water. He just left, stumbled through the crowd in a daze. At one point, someone accidentally smacked him right in the bladder, and he thought for sure he was about to flood himself right there— At that point he thought he may have WELCOMED it if it meant the pain would go away. But, of course, he didn’t go. It all stayed in, where it continued to torment him. 

He found Dwight and Bryce again. Didn’t bother trying to greet them. He couldn’t move his hands away from his dick to wave at them anyway. 

Dwight whispered, “Did you… Get anything out?” 

Kenneth shook his head, tearing up again. He’d gotten NOTHING out. He was still bloated, still overflowing, still so desperate he could barely breathe. “D—Did Karl say he wants to leave while I was gone?” he managed, not even daring to hope. 

“No…” Dwight said. “I’m sorry…” 

Bryce saw the tears in Kenneth’s eyes and tried not to look. He couldn’t handle seeing Kenneth cry. It was like watching someone pull the wings off of a butterfly. “Paulson… Um… It is getting very late. The Leader’s speech should be soon, I think. We’ll know where to find him then. He likes you, he will probably let you go… You don’t even have to say why. Smith and I, we’ll both pretend we really need to go as well so you are less embarrassed.” 

Wow. Bryce was going to tell The Leader that he needed the toilet… He never would have thought Bryce would tell The Leader that if he was ACTUALLY about to piss himself, but here he was offering to do it just to make Kenneth feel better… “Th—Thank you… I—“ 

He was interrupted when Karl returned. 

“Do you want to leave yet!?” Kenneth rushed out, breathless. Everything else was forgotten as he thought about how maybe if they left RIGHT NOW he could get back to the inn without literally fucking drowning in his own piss. 

“No,” Karl shook his head. “I thought I told you to go take a fucking piss.” 

Something in Kenneth snapped then. Strong-armed into doing a favor for someone he couldn’t fucking stand, put through hours of physical torment, his brain ceased to function and he just… “I tried, I couldn’t.” 

…Blurted it out.

Everyone stared at Kenneth for a second, and then it hit him what he’d just said. He’d spoken it aloud. He’d named the problem. He’d told Karl.

Karl was the first to speak; “You don’t have to go that bad, then.” 

“I— I—“ 

“He does!” Dwight said, still believing Karl must have had at least some humanity inside him somewhere. He was supposed to care about the health of his subordinates. “But… He’s got a medical condition.” 

“You all keep saying he’s got a ‘medical condition’,” Karl mocked. “But, you won’t ever say what it is.” 

“He can’t pee around other people,” Dwight said. 

Karl laughed, “Sure he can. If he can’t, he just must not have to go very much.” 

Bryce looked at Karl; The man whom had tormented him since childhood. The man whom had made his life Hell for weeks on end, breaking down his body with nonstop drills. Then, he looked at Kenneth; The man whom annoyed the living fuck out of him a lot of the time. The man whom played stupid jokes on him and yelled too much about dumb things… The man whom had subjected himself to a full bladder for most of a day, then debased himself by pretending to beg, to make Karl stop picking on Bryce. 

There was… A feeling then. A weird feeling. A confusing feeling. And Bryce didn’t “DO” feelings. He had no idea what it was, but it made him REALLY want Karl to just allow Kenneth to go find the privacy he needed so that Kenneth could be his usual comfortable, irritating self again. “Karl, LOOK at him. He needs to go.” 

“Then, he should just go,” Karl rolled his eyes. “There’s a bathroom. He’s an adult. He knows how to use one.” 

“I TRIED!” Kenneth snapped through his gritted teeth. 

“Not hard enough,” Karl said. “Jesus. You’re so embarrassing. Why does Bryce put up with this? A grown fucking adult that can’t even piss. Get the Hell over it and stop disgracing all of us.” 

Urgency, shame and rage all fought for control of Kenneth’s brain. Karl thought… What, did he think he was CHOOSING to do this to himself?! Did Karl think he just ENJOYED holding his bladder until everything hurt so badly that he just wanted to scream?! “I— I can’t—“ 

“You can. Go use the god damned toilet.” 

“I FREAKING TRIED! I CAN’T GO THERE!” Kenneth shouted. He knew people were probably looking now, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck. He just wanted this to stop. He wanted it to be over. The insults, the pain, the hurt, the sheer lack of any semblance of control. 

“Then just sit in the corner until you piss yourself. I don’t care. When you need to go badly enough, it will come out. You’re acting like a child.” 

“Karl,” Dwight said. “He has a medical condition. He cannot help it. This is like screaming at someone with a broken leg to ‘just run’.” 

“Can we please just leave?” Kenneth asked. “I can’t…I can’t take it anymore.” 

“No,” Karl barked. “Your inability to pee does not mean that I have to leave early. You don’t have the right to ruin other people’s evenings, you’re just selfish.” 

“I’m not, I just— It HURTS—“ 

“No adult should have so much trouble pissing, and you shouldn’t punish me for your issue. You’re just using this as an excuse to leave when you want to.”

“It’s not an excuse!” Bryce said. “I— I didn’t understand it at first, either. But, it’s this real, physical thing, and—“ 

“It’s on HIM to figure this out, he can’t expect to be coddled. He can either piss here, or he can hold it. Those are the options. Maybe just don’t go out if you don’t know how to pee.” 

‘Don’t know how to pee,’ Bryce replayed those words, as well as every time HE’D said them to Kenneth before he’d understood how uncontrollable his problem really was… “Kenneth,” he said. “Let’s—“ 

“No,” Kenneth said dully, brokenly. “Forget it. I’ll hold it. I can’t go, so I just have to— I’ll hold it.” 

“You’re really not okay, you have to—“ 

“Just leave it!” Kenneth snapped. “Karl is right. I’m being ridiculous. I should— If I can’t pee, then I need to hold it.” He leaned back hard against the wall, slumped down until he was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his hands squeezing his cock so tight his fingers were going numb. 

Dwight crouched down beside him, “Kenneth,” he whispered. “Don’t listen to—“ 

“Don’t coddle me,” Kenneth mumbled. “I need to learn how to deal with this.” 

“But, Kenneth—“ 

“Don’t.” 

Dwight sighed. He scooted closer to his friend, put a hand to his very tense shoulder. He wanted to tell him that it was okay, but nothing was okay… 

Twenty minutes later, Kenneth’s tears were streaming down his face as he gnashed his teeth. His bladder no longer felt full, it felt like something else entirely. It felt like it had partway through the day where he’d gotten locked in solitary confinement. Only this time he had to endure that awful feeling surrounded by hoards of people. Many of them would look over to his side of the room, stare at him for a second, clearly wondering what the fuck was wrong, what was causing a guard like him to cry so much. He wasn’t sure if any of them could tell that it involved a need to piss. The constant heaving, spasming and shuddering ripping through him could easily just mix in with the sobbing. 

There was a sudden hush over the room, and Kenneth looked down, thinking maybe he’d finally exploded and everyone was now staring in shock as a flood gushed between his legs. He wasn’t peeing, though… God, how he wished he was… 

The cause of the silence was the entrance of The Leader. Beside Kenneth, Dwight sighed with relief. “We can ask him now,” he whispered sharply. “As soon as he’s done talking, we can—“ 

Karl spun around to face them, “Hm, no. You know what? I want to leave now?” 

“But, The Leader is about to speak,” Bryce pointed out. 

“And I am exhausted,” Karl said. “Let’s go.” 

Kenneth didn’t even react when his hope for relief was taken away yet again. He’d accepted that he was never going to pee. He was just going to keep getting fuller and fuller for the rest of his life. He was just going to retain every last drop of liquid his body produced, until one day he became so swollen with piss that he could never move again. Because he couldn’t control himself. Because he wasn’t normal. 

Dwight gently helped Kenneth up, and Kenneth leaned hard against him for support. Bryce stood behind him and tried to keep him steady. “We’ll be back at the inn really fast, Paulson…” he whispered. He realized he was much closer than he’d intended to get when he noticed his breath hit Kenneth’s hair a little… He didn’t make any move to step back, though. 

They exited the villa a few minutes later, but their departure barely registered to Kenneth. He was delirious, unable to tell where he was anymore. Dimly, he recalled how Karl had praised his sense of direction. He recalled how he himself had naively thought that he would ALWAYS be able to use his skills to find his way. 

Now, he knew that when his bladder was full enough, even being surrounded by street signs in a very familiar town wouldn’t be enough to ensure he could get to where he was headed. That was okay though, Bryce was leading them. Bryce knew the way too. Kenneth just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. ‘Left, right… It huuuuuurts. Left, right… I need to gooooo. Left, right… Please, just make it stoooop.’ 

It wouldn’t stop though, he just trudged along half-blind, leaning on Dwight, through a never-ending march of ever-increasing pain and misery. “I have to go…” he whimpered out after fifteen minutes of walking, not realizing that he’d said it out loud. 

“Shhh…” Dwight said. “I know… Almost there.” 

They weren’t though. They still had a lot of ground left to cover. Ten minutes later, Kenneth’s first leak escaped. Rather than dismay, he felt overjoyed as the spurt of piss warmed his boxers. Something had come out, finally. He even pushed down, trying to prompt another leak— Trying to prompt a total accident because he didn’t care about anything anymore except for making the pain end. But, nothing else would dribble out. Just that one taste of relief, that was all he was allowed to have. 

Another ten minutes, and Kenneth had removed one hand from his dick to wrap it tightly around Dwight’s arm. He was squeezing it so hard that tears were springing to Dwight’s eyes, but he didn’t ask Kenneth to stop. If trying to break his friend’s humerus made him feel better, then he could do it as much as he wanted to. 

Another ten minutes, and they were finally at the inn. Kenneth teared up more then, now with happiness and disbelief that he was nearly at the end of the torture. Just as he’d done in line hours ago, he couldn’t stop thinking ‘I’m going to pee, I’m going to pee, I’m going to pee!’ But this time, he knew he really WAS. 

His bladder got ahead of him, and a little dribble snaked its way out. He now felt more determined to hold back since he was so close to a toilet, so he tightened his grip on his cock, releasing Dwight’s arm so he would have two hands to do it with. 

Dwight exhaled a breath of relief, rubbing at his tender arm. Damn, Kenneth got STRONG when he had to piss… 

Bryce pushed open the door and the others followed him inside. Karl patted down his pockets, “Fuuuck, don’t have my key,” he said. 

“Look harder,” Dwight said briskly, already trying to think of how best to get Kenneth upstairs. The elevator got stuck more often than it functioned, so that was out. Maybe Dwight could just… Pick him up and carry him to the next floor, so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs himself. That could work. That could— 

“Go ask for a new one for me,” Karl said. 

“Ask yourself,” Bryce told him. 

“You are capable of—“ 

“FINE!” Bryce snapped. He was done arguing. Argument after argument was not helping Kenneth. And… Fuck, Bryce actually REALLY wanted to help Kenneth right now. He stormed down the hall to speak with the employees. 

“Oh, and can you ask them for a spare towel, too?” Karl requested. 

Dwight sighed, but had similar thoughts to Bryce. Arguing accomplished nothing right now. 

Suddenly, Kenneth was alone with Karl. It took several seconds for his desperate, piss-filled brain to realize that, and by the time it did, it was too late to run after his friends. 

Karl had slammed him against the wall beside the front door. Hard. Hard enough to drag out a little spurt of pee. Kenneth squirmed from side to side from WAY more than desperation. The day his Father had died, Kenneth had made a promise to himself that he’d never let anybody put their hands on him in this way again. He’d promised himself that he’d never be anyone’s victim. He promised himself he’d fight back. 

But, Karl was so much bigger than he was. So much stronger. And Kenneth’s need for a piss made fighting even harder. All he could do was flail and yell “Get your hands off of me! NOW!” He shouted it loudly, so loudly that he thought for sure Dwight and Bryce would hear no matter how far down the hall they’d gotten. “N—“ 

One of Karl’s hands went over Kenneth’s mouth and his shouts grew muffled. “Shut the fuck up…” he growled. “Your shrieking is like nails on a chalkboard. Shut up, or it’s going to be a lot worse.” 

Kenneth had no idea what ‘it’ was going to be. When Father pinned him down like this, it usually meant a lot of punches to his face were coming. Was that happening again? He could… He could survive that. 

Karl let go of Kenneth’s mouth, kept that hand affixing him to the wall. Then, he released the grip on Kenneth’s other shoulder, brought the hand down and rammed it hard into Kenneth’s abdomen, pushing it into the round, distended curve of his overflowing bladder. 

In spite of the warnings, Kenneth was yelling again. He’d tried not to, but he couldn’t stop the screams. “SHITSHITSHITSHIT! FUCKFUCK! NO! HOLYFUCK! STOP!” The pain was beyond anything he’d ever felt before, and his brain couldn’t even process it. Often, when Kenneth was in a lot of pain, he would recall other, worse agonies he’d survived and the present situation wouldn’t feel as bad anymore. 

That wasn’t possible now. This was worse than any other desperation he’d ever felt by miles. The scorching heat flared through his length, pulsed out across his abdomen beneath Karl’s heavy hand that just kept digging in deeper and deeper, then it ignited in several explosions up and down his back. 

This was worse than any pain he’d ever felt, period. This beat the day he got mauled by wasps to get honey for Dwight out of what he THOUGHT was a beehive. This beat the time his Father tied him by the ankle to his bicycle and then rode it through the field of thorny bushes behind their house. This was even worse than the day his Father shot him in the leg with an actual, literal gun. Karl’s hand mashing into his bladder created a full-body experience of pain that made Kenneth scream until he ran out of voice. 

Twisting wormed through his entire body, pressure thrashing madly, the world spun, Kenneth couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. He felt dizzy, sick, full and— 

“Aww, there we go! That’s what we need to see! And you said you couldn’t piss in front of people!” Karl said. 

All of that had happened in the blink of an eye, though it had felt like hours to Kenneth. Dwight and Bryce had run back from where they’d been and were shouting, but Kenneth couldn’t make out what they were saying. People were streaming into the inn, but Kenneth didn’t recognize any of them. 

Just, suddenly, Karl’s hand wasn’t on his bladder anymore and he was dropped on the floor… And he was voiding his bladder. Uncontrollably. He was pissing hard, the hiss of his stream darkening his uniform and the ground beneath him sounded implausibly loud.

He felt zero relief. In fact, he continued to feel the same unfathomable pain he’d been suffering all night. The piss burned on its way out, and his bladder kept sort of contracting in on itself, he felt like it was BRUISED or something, constantly pulsing with a tender ache. His back felt like it was broken into two hundred pieces, and everything was still spinning, and now Karl was shouting too, and Kenneth just… It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it— 

Even more people started to stream in just as Kenneth, still pissing wildly as he lay crumpled on the floor, started to heave. His chest went in and out, his throat constricted and lurched, and a strange fluid was ejected from his mouth and down his shirt. 

The people walking in and up to their rooms were staring at him, and then it finally registered to him that he was full-blown fucking pissing himself in public. All these people were LOOKING at him as he peed. And not even into a toilet, into his CLOTHES. He heaved again, but nothing more came up. 

“What’s his problem?” he heard a voice ask. 

“Too much to drink,” someone responded. “Gonna be feeling that in the morning.” 

“No, I was here earlier, that other guy was pinning him…” 

“I think he pissed himself, too.” 

“He’s still going…” 

“I’ve never seen anyone pee so much, is he okay?” 

“Aw, poor thing…” 

Shakily, he pinched one of his arms, certain that this must have been a nightmare. It HAD to be, so many of his fears had come true today. The worst possible person had suspicions about him and Dwight. He’d peed with a massive audience— He’d had an ACCIDENT with a massive audience. This couldn’t have been real, it just couldn’t have— 

But, he didn’t wake up. 

He wasn’t asleep. 

The last of his piss finally seeped out, his urethra still stung and pulsed like it was trying to force out more. His bladder still quivered. His… His everything still hurt. 

The crowd of people that had walked through the door had dispersed up to the second floor to their rooms. Only Bryce, Dwight and Karl were still here with him. Kenneth wanted to cry, but he couldn’t make the tears come anymore. He wanted to stand up, run upstairs to his room and then never, ever come out, but he couldn’t move. He was in such a state of shock, of pain, that he couldn’t do anything. 

A split second later, the world shifted again. Dwight— Kenneth’s usually placid friend, the person whom would talk others down from their anger and suggest try to solve things as peacefully as possible— charged Karl. He launched himself at the bigger man, knocking him to the ground and punching him around the head so hard and fast that his fists blurred. He was screaming, snarling. “GOD DAMMIT! DON’T YOU EVER PUT YOUR HANDS ON HIM AGAIN! IF I EVER SEE YOU IN THE SAME FUCKING ROOM AS HIM, I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” 

Bryce grabbed hold of one of Dwight’s arms as he swung it back for another punch, pulled him away, “Dwight, Dwight, we’re going to get in troub—“ 

“I DON’T CARE!” Dwight shouted. “You saw what he did! You fucking SAW, you—“ 

“I saw. So did a lot of those people who just walked through here,” Bryce said. “And what we are going to do is tell The Leader.” 

Dwight tried to calm himself down. Bryce was right. They had witnesses; People with no relation to any of them whom had seen Karl assaulting Kenneth and making him pee himself. Discipline would come for Karl after this. 

Karl groggily stood up, “You punch like a child,” he informed, heading for the stairs. 

Dwight didn’t care what Karl said to him. He only cared about Kenneth now. He rushed to his friend’s side. “Shhh…” he soothed, even though Kenneth wasn’t sobbing as he’d expected him to be. “Are you okay?” He cursed himself for asking it a moment later. What a stupid question. This right here today, this was the worst thing that could possibly happen to Kenneth. 

Kenneth shook his head. “Everything… I don’t feel right, Dwight.” 

“Let me help you up…” Dwight said, hooking one of Kenneth’s arms around his own. 

Bryce came around Kenneth’s other side. “It’s okay,” he said, even though it really wasn’t. “You need to sleep now. You will feel better tomorrow.” He didn’t actually believe that statement very much, either. “And we’re going to tell The Leader about Karl. I doubt we will see him anymore after that.” 

“It… Hurts…” Kenneth managed. 

“You need rest,” Dwight said, hoping that really was all Kenneth needed. He didn’t know what that stuff Kenneth had coughed out was. It didn’t look like he’d just thrown up, that wasn’t it… 

They made it up to the room Kenneth shared with Dwight. Bryce was about to depart for his own room, when Kenneth made a whimpering noise. 

Dwight flinched. He’d rarely seen Kenneth be… non-verbal. He talked all the time, he shouted all the time. He made a ton of noise. These half-formed sentences and tiny sounds were so unlike him that they scared Dwight. “I… Uh… I think he wants you to stay, Bryce. Is that it, Kenneth?” 

Kenneth nodded. 

“O—Okay…” Bryce said, shutting the door and coming closer. “I won’t leave.” 

“Let’s… Get you cleaned up,” Dwight said, escorting Kenneth into the restroom. Kenneth sat down on the toilet as Dwight removed his soaked clothes for him. It felt like undressing a rag-doll. Kenneth was entirely limp, just going through the motions. Dwight got him into dry boxers and his pajamas. “Th… There you go,” he said. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Kenneth. That shouldn’t have happened. You didn’t deserve it.” 

“My fault,” Kenneth stated softly. 

Dwight had never heard Kenneth talk so quietly before. It sent a chill down his spine. “No,” he disagreed. “Karl’s fault. He’s the one that made you stay there for so long. He’s the one that squeezed you until…” 

“My fault,” Kenneth repeated. “My problem. My fault.” 

“Kenneth, no…” Dwight insisted. “You know that. If your problem is anybody’s fault, it’s your Father’s. Not yours.” 

Kenneth didn’t respond.

“Let’s go to sleep, okay? I’ll… Hold you all night.” 

“Bryce…” 

Dwight paused. That WAS true. Bryce was still here… Here to see them both get into the same bed. “Maybe he’ll understand, since you’re so shaken up? He’ll know I’m just trying to make you feel bett—“ 

Kenneth shook his head. “No. Bryce TOO.” 

Oh. 

“Well… I could… I could see if he wants to spend the night here. That’s what you want?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” Dwight said. “We’ll both hold you tonight if that helps you feel better.” He looked away for a second. “Just… So long as THIS is only for me…” he leaned forward and kissed Kenneth on the cheek. 

“Of course,” Kenneth said. “Love you…” 

“Love you, too…” Dwight said. “You’re the only person I’d ever beat someone up over.” 

That got a small smile, “Should do it again.” 

“I think Bryce is right and we should tell The Leader instead,” Dwight told him. 

On the other side of the door, Bryce’s mind was buzzing. A memory from early in the night, one that he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten given it set this entire disaster in motion, played. 

Karl had been ‘blackmailing’ Kenneth to do something he wanted. Both he and Dwight had acted very oddly when asked WHAT he was being blackmailed with. 

And then… 

“Love you.”

“Love you, too…” 

Snapshot after snapshot of things he’d seen those two do together flashed through his mind’s eye. All the hand-holding, the cuddling, how they could finish each other’s sentences, Kenneth worrying himself LITERALLY sick when Dwight was hurt… 

Relationships between guards were forbidden. If those guards were of the same sex, the penalties were far greater. Bryce was supposed to report such things to his superiors. 

But, he didn’t want to. 

At all. 

The thought of reporting it made him feel sick. 

The thought of letting it continue made him feel… Something else. Something that made the idea of holding onto Kenneth tonight sound less like a chore or obligation, and more like… Something he wanted to do a really fucking good job of. 

He didn’t understand it, but suddenly the image of all three of them cozied up together was the most appealing thing in the universe to him. 

He wasn’t going to tell anybody that, though. 

Dwight and Bryce both got changed for bed and laid down on either side of Kenneth, Kenneth immediately rolled against Dwight and pressed his face into his chest. Dwight put an arm around him, and Bryce followed suit. Bryce thought he should have felt stranger doing this with two people who drove him crazy ninety nine percent of the time, but he didn’t. When Kenneth started to tremble, obviously still horribly upset, Bryce rubbed his back, “The Leader is going to kick Karl’s ass after he finds out tomorrow,” he whispered. 

“Yes,” Dwight murmured, “Everything will be better tomorrow. I’m sorry this had to happen tonight.” 

“Still hurts…” Kenneth mumbled. 

“Get some rest,” Dwight said. “It will all be okay.”

*** 

If you didn't see, there is now a physical version of this story for sale: https://www.lulu.com/shop/thesecret-omoaccount/guard/paperback/product-mn2p6p.html?page=1&pageSize=4

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Look, idc that Karl is a fictional character, I am going to FIND him and STAB him in his SLEEP. What a loathsome, despicable human being, wtf. I can't wait for the next part so we can see what the fuck happens to this absolute shitstain. 

In other news Kenneth asking Bryce to stay the night too made me squee. (And Bryce figuring out that Ken and Dwight are gay and it making him feel more protective?? Pls my whole heart.) 

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  • 3 weeks later...

I apologize for how long story updates have been taking, I've been working on the printed volumes, as well as preparing my fics for Omovember (during which you'll be getting one update a day, so I hope that makes up for it. )

***

 

The next morning, Dwight woke and groggily looked to his side, finding Kenneth wriggling next to him, hands pressed into his crotch, whimpering softly with obvious need. “Kenneth, you know you can get me up if you have to…” Dwight stopped, realizing his friend was somehow sleeping through what was clearly a catastrophic emergency. 

He thought for a moment, trying to decide how best to get the other to wake up. Kenneth was a heavy sleeper once he finally managed to put himself to bed, but Dwight still didn’t want to nudge him around TOO harshly for fear it might prompt a spill from his bladder. Dwight grabbed Kenneth’s shoulder and squeezed down on it, “You have to get up now,” he said gently. “Looks like you need to go.” 

Kenneth’s eyes fluttered open, then widened as a small squeak fell from his lips, “Ah—!” He sat up, but cringed and went slightly pale a second later, indicating to Dwight that the sudden movement had probably just resulted in a bit of leakage. Kenneth was shaking, his body knotted with fierce tension. His head whipped from side to side as he recalled his current surroundings, then bit down hard on his lip. “Dwight, I need—“ 

“I know…” Dwight said. “Don’t worry. Can you stand by yourself?” 

Kenneth blushed hard, both at Dwight’s clear concern and at how good it honestly made him feel to be taken care of like this. When he tried to get to his feet and instead immediately froze and tightened his grip on himself as a squirt of liquid pumped itself free, he blushed even more as he shook his head, admitting that he COULDN’T get up on his own right now. He looked to his other side. “Where’s—“ 

“Bryce said he was going to get up early to find a witness to… Last night. He’s probably out doing that.” 

So. That was it then. Kenneth’s last bastion of hope that yesterday had merely been the single worst nightmare of his life was gone. It had happened. It had really happened. He’d pissed in full view of a ton of people. He’d pissed HIS PANTS in full view of a ton of people. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes. “I… I… Yesterday…” 

“Not your fault,” Dwight assured. “Let me help you up…” 

Kenneth let Dwight take his hand and assist him to his feet. The tears DID fall then, but they were caused purely by pain. A really sharp throb in his back that flared down and around to his groin and bladder region. “Shhhhiiiit…” he winced. 

“What’s wrong?” Dwight asked, worried. Had he… Had he not made it for the second time in a row? No, he looked dry… 

“It hurts, Dwight. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!” 

“You… Just need to go,” Dwight said. “Come on…” He walked Kenneth to the restroom as fast as he could manage it, and was relieved when he saw his friend immediately unbutton his pajamas and aim. He’d been sort of scared that the trauma of yesterday would cause Kenneth to choose to hold it whenever he had to pee. Dwight took his place behind Kenneth and rubbed his shoulders gently, “I’m here, it’s just us, my darling…” he murmured. 

Somehow ‘MY darling’ sounded even better to Kenneth’s ears than just plain ‘darling’ did, immediately clearing away some of the mental hurt from the previous day. 

But… The physical hurt… 

Hssss…. 

“OUCH! SHIT!” Kenneth shouted, jolting hard when his stream burst forth and made him feel like thorns and gunpowder were being passed through his most sensitive spot. The pain didn’t fade away the more he pissed, it just got stronger and stronger, and he continued to make loud exclamations of agony. 

“What’s wrong, what’s wrong?!” Dwight asked in a panic. He looked at the urine pulsing from Kenneth’s tip warily. ‘Please be normal, please be normal…’ To his utmost relief, Kenneth’s pee was pale yellow, just like it was supposed to be. No hint of pink or— thank God— red. 

Kenneth’s stream ceased, and with it, some of the pain ebbed away. His urethra still stung and flared, but not as bad as it had been when he was actually peeing. He was breathing heavily, “Dwight, that… It really hurt.” 

“I could tell… What’s—“ 


“It burned and stung.” 

“You might have an infection again,” Dwight said gently. “We’ll get you medicine, just like the last times—“ 

“It’s not just that this time,” Kenneth said. “In my back… Um, you know how if I hold too long, I have pain there?” 

“Yes…?” 

“I’ve had that feeling constantly ever since… Ever since Karl did that yesterday. And it hurts around where my bladder is, like a bruise. And, my… Um… My…” he lowered his voice a great deal, even though he and Dwight were the only two around. “There’s… A lot of pain in my… In my penis…” 

Dwight winced. Sounded like Kenneth’s entire lower half was suffering. Some of it was the same stuff he had when he got a urinary tract infection, but the rest of it… What could they do? It was a long train-ride back to where Elizabeth and the other people who usually took care of Kenneth’s medical needs were. The Leader, of course, had his own team of doctors right here in town. Dwight didn’t know if he could take Kenneth to see them, though. Maybe after the… Incident was explained to him, he’d know medical attention was needed right away? 

“Can you get dressed on your own?” 

“I think so,” Kenneth said. He tried to remove his shirt, but gave a sharp hiss as something pulled wrong in his back. “Ahh, nope!” 

“Okay, I’ll get it…” Dwight said. 

Twenty minutes later, Kenneth was dressed for the day… And jiggling up and down with his hands between his legs. 

That was deeply unusual. Infections made him have to go more frequently, but NEVER this often! Dwight’s chest clenched as it became more and more apparent that Kenneth may have MORE wrong with him this time than just a UTI. “You need to go again,” he stated. 

Kenneth nodded nervously. “I really don’t want to…” 

“You REALLY need to though,” Dwight said. 

“I know…” 

Once more, they were back in the restroom, Dwight doing the same thing he always did, helping Kenneth calm down and pee. It was taking longer than usual this time though, especially for an environment where they really WERE both alone and secluded. Dwight realized Kenneth was DELIBERATELY holding it back now, fearful of the pain letting go would ignite. “Kenneth, you have to…” 

“It hurts…” 

“I know it does,” Dwight said. “I can’t imagine having something… Burning really bad THERE, but this will probably get worse if you DON’T let yourself pee.” 

Kenneth whimpered harshly, then his stream anxiously trickled forth. He was groaning and stomping his feet into the floor. His piss was coming out much slower than usual, Dwight wasn’t sure if that was an effect of whatever was wrong with him, or if he just couldn’t bring himself to let it all go at once even if it would bring an end to his suffering sooner. 

Ten seconds later, Kenneth wasn’t going anymore. 

“That all of it?” Dwight asked. 

Kenneth nodded tearfully. 

“You sure?” 

“That’s all!” Kenneth exclaimed, upset. “I can’t go anymore! I’m out!” 

“Okay, okay…” Dwight said. “Easy now…” He HAD just pissed twenty minutes ago, of course there wasn’t two minutes worth of fluid backed up in him like there usually was. 

They left their room a few minutes later, bumping into Bryce and a woman in the hall. “Hello,” Bryce said, gesturing to the woman. “This is Rebecca. She saw what Karl did yesterday and is going to come with us to have it handled.” 

Kenneth didn’t dare to look Rebecca in the eye. She’d… Seen it. Seen ALL of it… 

“Hello,” Dwight said. “Thank you for helping. Karl REALLY hurt my friend yesterday.” 

“I know,” Rebecca said, and she sounded nice and kind, but Kenneth still couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t acknowledge that she existed. Couldn’t acknowledge that ANYTHING about yesterday existed. “Is he doing better now?” 

“He’s… Upset,” Dwight explained. “Understandably.” He didn’t add how scared he was for Kenneth’s current PHYSICAL health. 

*** 

After being granted access to the villa and going through the process of requesting an audience with The Leader, the four waited. Kenneth did so with his knees bouncing. In the half hour walk here, he’d managed to get extremely desperate for a piss. Dread filled his chest as he tried not to let it show. If he did, Dwight would tell him to go… 

But, Kenneth could NEVER hide his need from Dwight. Dwight had spent YEARS becoming incredibly in-tune to all of Kenneth’s tells. There were times Dwight noticed Kenneth had to piss when Kenneth was too caught up in something to notice it himself. “I’m sorry…” Dwight said softly as he took Kenneth to the same restroom he’d failed to use last night. 

Two minutes of coaxing and fifteen seconds of stinging, fiery agony then followed. 

The meeting with The Leader went well, everything about Karl’s behavior was laid out, Rebecca backed up the events of the previous night just in case the bruises on his face from Dwight punching him were used in an attempt at a defense. The Leader was thoroughly angered, he’d enjoyed Kenneth’s company during the occasions they’d met in the past and having him injured by someone whom was SUPPOSED to be part of his team was beyond unacceptable. Karl was to be discharged, they wouldn’t need to deal with him again. 

But, that still left the matter of Kenneth’s actual injury. For the first time, Kenneth was invited into the private areas of the villa for an examination. The nurse, Miriam was very concerned once Kenneth had finally managed to mumble out a list of his symptoms. “Is there blood in your urine?” she asked him. 

He shook his head. 

“That’s good…” Miriam said. “Now, I’m going to need to check something, and it probably won’t feel very good. Try to stay still.” 

Kenneth didn’t like the sound of that, but before he could react the nurse was running a hand over his bladder region. He flinched hard, memories of the awful pain he’d endured last night under Karl’s touch flooding back into him. The nurse wasn’t SQUEEZING him like Karl had, just gently palpating the skin there, but it still hurt. It still hurt really badly. After only a few seconds, Kenneth couldn’t take it anymore and begged her to stop. He was starting to need to pee again, too, and the tapping hadn’t been helping him. 

“Have you had UTIs in the past?” she asked, before instructing him to put a thermometer into his mouth. 

Kenneth nodded. 

“I’m sorry, I think you may have another,” Miriam said, removing the thermometer from beneath Kenneth’s tongue. She looked at it, and knit her brow. “The back pains you are describing, are they sort of to the side, near your ribs?” 

“Yes,” Kenneth said. “Right in here…” he gently pointed to the area that was causing him the most trouble. 

“You also have a very high fever,” Miriam said. “To be honest, I’m surprised you are able to hold a conversation with me.” 

It was a struggle to do that. Kenneth felt dazed and dizzy, and he just wanted the room to stop spinning. “This isn’t how I normally feel with a UTI,” he said. 

“I think the ones you had in the past were more mild.” 

Mild!? Nothing about those things had been mild! All the fire and prickling every time he had to piss… 

“What you are describing is kidney pain. Is this your first time experiencing that feeling?” 

“No, it happens a lot if I… Um… Need to… If I have to… Void really badly.” 

Miriam only looked more concerned. “Um… That’s… How often do you hold it like that?” 

Kenneth looked away. “I… I have to… Every day, almost.” 

“No,” Miriam shook her head. “You don’t. I know some of you take your jobs very seriously and do not leave your posts, but if you need to go that badly you should relieve yourself WHILE at it.” 

“I… Can’t do that,” Kenneth said. 

“Do you need me to write a letter to your supervisor? Explaining that you NEED to be permitted to—“ 

“No, that’s— Ugh— I’m— I’m BROKEN, okay?” Kenneth snapped. He was so sick of this. Sick of having to explain it. Sick of having to DEAL with it. Sick of… Of making himself SICK over it! 

“You’re—“ 

“My brain doesn’t work,” Kenneth said. “My head is broken. I have so many freaking things wrong with me in there, so many things that I can’t even take a god damned piss like a normal human being.” 

“I don’t understand… You should lay down. Your fever is—“ 

“It’s not the stupid fever,” Kenneth insisted. “It’s everything! I can’t do the most simple thing in the world— I can’t PISS! Babies can piss without even thinking about it! But, not me! I need to go through a whole freaking ritual to be able to do it— A RITUAL. I need to have my friend hold me in this one, specific way. Need him to rub my back and shoulders like a masseuse would, or something. Need him to whisper all this crap into my ear. All so that I can take a FREAKING PISS. How ridiculous is that? You ever hear anything so stupid before in your—“ 

“SLOW DOWN,” Miriam interrupted. “Please. Are you okay? Take some deep breaths, try to sleep, or—“ 

“No, I’m not okay,” Kenneth said. “I’m never gonna BE okay. I’m angry at everything, I’m too sensitive, I’m weak… And I can’t even piss. What about any of that is okay?” 


“Explain,” Miriam said. “Why can’t you urinate?” 

“Oh, why can’t I? Ask my Father, dig him up and ask him what he did to me. And, while you’re at it, ask WHY, because I sure as Hell never got an answer!” Kenneth was just… Rambling, just shouting, barely aware that Miriam was a human being anymore. She was just a sounding board, the thing that had had the misfortune of being there when Kenneth decided he couldn’t put up with ANY of this anymore. 

Miriam was trying to keep a level head, Kenneth was making zero sense. And he was more or less SCREAMING now, but she couldn’t help him get well if she didn’t know what was happening. “SIT DOWN,” she ordered, voice firm. “Sit down and breathe!” 

Kenneth sat on the bed, tried to catch his breath. When his breathing evened out, Miriam tried again. “Now, please… Slowly, tell me what all is going on. Why can’t you urinate?” 

“It… It started when I was seven, I think,” Kenneth said. “After my Father shot my Mother.” 

Miriam froze after hearing that. 

This was going to be way more serious than she’d expected. 

“Father would sometimes point a gun at one of us, pretend he was going to shoot so we’d get scared. The gun was always unloaded. Except, not this night. I heard lots of screaming in my parents’ room. Father was doing the thing with the gun again… But, this time there was a bullet. I’m not sure if he KNEW there was a bullet in there or not. If he… If he meant to do it, or if it was an accident. But… He did it. He killed her. And, right away, he was coming up with this plan. He was going to lie to everybody that a robber broke into the house, and that he tried to fight the guy off, but he couldn’t, and that was how Mother got shot. 

“Everyone actually believed that. And they thought my Father was a hero. They respected him a lot thanks to his lie, they all felt bad for him. But, I’d seen it all. I’d seen what happened. And he didn’t want me to tell… So, as soon as he’d finished cleaning the blood off the floor that night, he… Wanted to make sure I couldn’t tell anybody. He had this box in his closet, really tiny. And he put me in there, locked it. I was small, but there still wasn’t enough room in there for me to turn around. He just… Locked me up. And put the box back into the closet, shut the door. I was screaming a lot, and I think once the door was shut he could barely hear it anymore.

“He’d open the box once each morning, to give me a glass of water. Sometimes he’d open it to put out his cigarettes on my feet, or to pour boiling water on me. But, mostly he just left me in there. I couldn’t get out… It was so dark, so tiny… And, I’d pee myself in there. Over and over. Because he never let me out, and I couldn’t hold it. He’d lose it every time he opened the box and found me soaked, smelled all the piss… He’d beat me hard then, then wash me off in the bathtub, except he’d keep dunking my head under the water for so long, I kept thinking I was gonna die. 

“He only had me in the box for a week after Mother died, but after that things were different. Father had always been mean, but now there wasn’t anyone around to stop him. And he’d just literally gotten away with murder— Been seen as a HERO for it, too!— So, now he was super brazen about everything, knew he lived in a world without consequences. Since I kept peeing myself in the box, he said I needed to be taught how to… Control myself.

“So, he just… Wouldn’t let me pee. I had to ask him for permission, he’d say no most of the time. Some days he’d make me drink big jugs of water and then hold them all in, but I never could. He’d also hit me if I crossed my legs or, um… Grabbed at myself… there. I had to stay still and hold it, then he’d beat me when I ended up going on the floor. 

“Other times, he’d give in. He’d say I could go use the toilet, except he said he couldn’t ‘trust me’ alone in there, so he’d come with me. He’d stand behind me and just… Yell, and pull my hair, and scream at me to hurry up. ‘Do you think I am standing here for my health? What is wrong with you? I thought you said you had to piss!’ And, he’d scare me so much that I wouldn’t be able to, even when I really needed it. Then, he’d beat me again for taking so long, and I’d finally wet myself then, so he’d get even angrier. 

“A few times, I actually managed to go with him there, but he’d be angry anyway because he said I didn’t go ‘enough’, that I could have held it way longer and that it had been a waste of time to bring me there to pee. So, he’d hit me, and yell and scream about how I needed to learn to hold it, that peeing meant I was disgusting and weak. 

“And… And then… Weird things started happening with my body. I had a strategy where I’d wait for Father to pass out and then go use the toilet when he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it— Sometimes he locked the door so I couldn’t do that, but other times it was open and I could… Except, I couldn’t. I’d get there, and I’d just… Hear him. He wasn’t there, but it felt like he was. It felt like he was yelling and sneering at me, and I would take SO long to start peeing. And, each day it seemed to get worse, the amount of time I’d stand there waiting for it to come out would get longer and longer, and there would always be this painful knotted feeling in my chest every time I tried to go… Until one day, I couldn’t do it at all. I stood there for half an hour I think, feeling really uncomfortable, but I couldn’t just… Relax and go. At all. I felt so scared, I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. Just that I had to… Do this thing so badly, but something in me wouldn’t let it happen. 

“I couldn’t do it anymore, I went back to the hall closet— That was where Father made me sleep, and I just sat there crying. I felt like I was going to die, I even tried just wetting myself there on the floor, but I couldn’t do that either. I didn’t realize how loud I was crying until the door was flung open and Father was screaming at me to shut the Hell up, because he couldn’t stand the sound of my voice. He demanded to know what was wrong with me, and I told him that I couldn’t pee and that it hurt and was scary. I don’t know why I told him, I knew he wouldn’t help me. And he didn’t. He just laughed at me, called me pathetic and told me to shut up again. Said he’d slit my throat if I didn’t stay quiet. 

“I tried to stop crying then. I couldn’t, but I managed to do it a lot softer and he went back to sleep. I… Um… I found a bottle he had dropped on the floor, and… Uh… I have always liked the beach. I’ve never been but… Father’s house was so cold most of the time. The beach was so warm, and far away from him, he wouldn’t find me there. I could stay there and be warm and safe and okay… I always tried to imagine the beach when I was hurt back then. So, I tried to… You know… Into the bottle, while pretending that I was laying in the sand next to the ocean, and the sun was beating down on me, and the waves were all crashing, and eventually I, um… I felt better… 

“But, then Father found the bottle the next day when he dragged me out of the closet. He could tell what I’d done by the smell, and he… Made me… He made me… Drink it. And it wasn’t even the first time he’d made me drink… my own… Um… Pee. But, this time he taunted me the entire time I was doing it. He kept calling me disgusting, said I was vile since I couldn’t just hold it, that if he ever finds out I pissed somewhere without permission again, he would kill me. 

“And after that, the… The problem I had with making myself go got even worse. I’d have to do all sorts of things to get it to come out. I’d hold my breath until I was delirious. I’d tap my fingers against my bladder, sometimes I… I actually prayed. Down on my knees and everything, asking God to make it stop hurting… I’m not even really religious, but I ended up doing that anyway… None of it worked fast, sometimes when I finally had a chance to pee, it would take over an hour of nonstop effort. By the time I was eight years old, I couldn’t pee normally at all anymore. 

“But, I… Um… When I was eight, I met… Someone really important to me. My best friend, Dwight. Met him when I was trying to run away from home during a snowstorm, he brought me inside, gave me a place to sleep… And, the next morning I had to go really bad. He just said ‘Okay,’ and showed me where the toilet was. Didn’t make me beg for it or anything. And when I asked if I was really allowed, he said that of course I was. So, I went in to go, and I was having trouble at first like always because I realized he’d be able to… Hear me. And I got really nervous that I was gonna be in there for a whole hour again like I always was, and Dwight was going to know something was wrong with me. 

“Except, just a couple minutes later he knocked on the door and asked if I was okay, told me again that I WAS allowed to pee here and nothing bad was going to happen if I did… And for some reason as soon as he said that, as soon as I heard his voice, I was going just fine. I didn’t want to run away from town anymore, I wanted to stay with Dwight because he was so nice to me. But, Father found me with him that day, and he was really mad that I’d tried to run away. He brought me back home and gave me one of the worst punishments of my life. 

“I ended up having to tell Dwight about my problem eventually. We were spending the night sleeping in the woods together, and I couldn’t go outside. He could tell I really needed to, though. Kept asking what was wrong… And, I told him. I was so sure he’d laugh, or call me names like Father did… But, he didn’t. He just said he’d keep watch for me, that he’d help me relax and calm down if peeing outside was scary for me. And that’s what he did. He held me, and he just… It was the first physical contact I’d had in so long that wasn’t painful… I was able to pee when he was touching me like that. And he promised he’d always help me if I had trouble like that. 

“He has, too. He… Still does it. He still holds me and rubs my back while I try to go… A lot of the time it’s the only way that I can. And he’s never gotten angry with me about it, or tired of it… He’s always there… But, it feels like my Father is, too. Because, I STILL have so much trouble peeing, I still hear him shouting at me, I still feel him pulling at my hair. And he’s dead now. He shouldn’t be able to do anything to me anymore, he shouldn’t be able to control something so… Something so basic! But, every day, I LET him keep doing it. Every day, I let him win.” 

Miriam was shaking her head as she took it all in. “I want you to understand that this is not your fault.” 

“I know, it was his fault at FIRST, but it should be gone now. Because HE’S gone.” 

Miriam still shook her head. “No… Kenneth, when your Father hit you, where did he do it?” 

“All over,” Kenneth said. “There wasn’t one part of my body he DIDN’T hit.” 

“Okay, so let’s say he hit you in the arm one day, but then he didn’t touch you there for a few days afterwards,” Miriam said. “Your arm was still hurting, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Kenneth said, recalling how sometimes he’d be unable to raise his arms above his head for a week following a particularly harsh ‘lesson.’ 

“Something would be left behind on you, right?” Miriam asked. “You’d have a bruise. And the bruise wouldn’t go away just because you weren’t being hit right that second. It would stay there. It would need time to heal.” 

“But, I don’t have any of those bruises anymore,” Kenneth said. “They’re gone. They’ve been gone for a long time.” 

“Yes, but… What if you have more bruises that you can’t see?” Miriam suggested. “What if you have some that are inside of you, and THOSE haven’t healed yet?” 

“…Huh?” 

“Kenneth, I think you have a lot of big feelings,” Miriam said. “Everything you just told me, you were very detailed. You told me exactly how those things made you feel and still make you feel. Have you ever done that before?” 

“Not… Not all of it,” Kenneth said. “I talked to Dwight about it a lot back when it was all still happening, but I never just… Ran through everything like that with him. He was there, he knows all of it. Don’t have to do that.” 

Miriam went quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?” she asked. 

“Sure about what? About Dwight knowing everythi—“ 

“About not needing to ‘run through everything’ and talk about how it makes you feel,” Miriam corrected. 

“Um… Why would I need to talk about it, unless it’s to explain it to somebody? I already know what happened, too.” 

“I have to be honest,” Miriam said. “I’m not that sure what I’m suggesting right now, either. I want to help you feel better, and I know you have more going on than just a severe UTI right now… When you got further through that story though, you seemed… Happier. More relaxed.” 

“Because I was talking about Dwight.” 

“Not just that, you seemed… Relieved,” Miriam said. “Like, you were getting rid of something you’d been carrying for a long time. How do you feel now that you’ve said all of that? Any better?” 

Kenneth thought that he did… He no longer felt like stomping back and forth across the room and screaming his lungs out about how much he hated everything. “I do, actually. A lot better.” Even the pain in his back and midsection seemed to have lessened a bit. “I don’t understand why, though… All I did was ramble for ten minutes while somebody listened and let it go on.” 

“Maybe you need someone to listen to you,” Miriam said. “Maybe you need to talk sometimes, let out your memories. You can still go over these things with your friend, even if none of it is new to him. It doesn’t sound like he’d be upset to hear about your feelings…” she paused. “When you were… Shouting earlier, just yelling, and I couldn’t understand… Did that make you feel any better?” 

“A tiny bit,” Kenneth said. “Not as much as talking about everything, though.” 

“Do you get angry like that often?” 

“Yes…” Kenneth admitted. “Sometimes, I… Do things I really regret. I feel like I’m turning into my Father every time I lose it.” 

“How does that usually happen? Do you go a long time controlling it, and then you lash out suddenly when you get really upset?” 

“Y—Yeah, I think so…Usually I can hold it in for a while and try to just turn it off, I guess. But then it just builds up and something will randomly frustrate me too much, and I blow up.” 

“What if you didn’t ‘turn it off’.” 

Kenneth looked horrified at the idea. Caging his anger demon was a full-time job, an important one, one that kept him from constantly going on a rampage… But also meant that when the latch on its prison broke, it was really powerful. “I can’t just LET myself get mad. I’ll turn into him!” 

“Just… Try to let yourself feel angry,” Miriam suggested. “Whenever you’re mad, let yourself be mad. I think that pushing it down so much means that when you finally do break and lose it, it’s more intense because you’ve bottled it all up for so long. When you get really angry at something, do you think it’s really JUST that one thing that’s upsetting you so much?” 

Kenneth shrugged. He didn’t think it was. Last week he’d gotten so mad at a drawer in the supply room refusing to shut that he’d torn the whole thing out and thrown it against a wall. But, the entire time he’d been fighting with the drawer, he’d been THINKING about how Bryce had drank the last can of his favorite soda, and about how he’d gotten a hole in his favorite pair of socks, and about how some of the other guards had taunted him for his height by taking his wallet and holding it just out of his reach, and remembering the day his Father had called him a waste of oxygen… “No,” he said finally. “It’s never just the one thing.” 

“Because you don’t let your anger out every time you need to. You hold it back until you explode. THAT’S probably why you end up doing things you regret. Can you try it for a few days, letting yourself get angry every time you feel the need to get angry?”

Kenneth wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, but he nodded. “I— I could try to do that…” 

“Good,” Miriam encouraged. “Just see how it makes you feel… Do you do this with your other emotions? Do you let yourself cry? I know we haven’t been talking long, but you seem like a very tense person, like you’re always holding something in. I want you to let it out.” 

“But… I can’t let it out,” Kenneth said. “I already said, when I get angry, it’s dangerous. And, I can’t cry. Look at me!” he gestured to his uniform. “I’m not supposed to cry, every time I do I feel like a failure.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Miriam said. “When you need to cry, you need to cry. Did you let yourself cry when your Mother passed away?” 

“I— I did cry then,” Kenneth said. “But, Father couldn’t stand the noise, like I said. He hated the sound of me crying, if I did that then whatever was happening would always get worse.” 

“No one is going to hurt you if you cry now,” Miriam told him. 

Kenneth nodded, then kept nodding. He thought about all of his problems, and how they could all be traced back to a single source. He thought about the years he spent TRYING to find the one thing he could change about himself, the one thing he could do differently that would make his Father love him. He thought about how his Mother had been stolen from him. He thought about how he’d been beaten and punished just for being alive. He thought about how scared he was of his own emotions. He thought about how easy it had been to urinate back when he was very small, how he hadn’t even needed to think about it, how it would just happen. He thought about how a dead monster continued to control him on puppet strings from beyond the grave. He thought about last night; Publicly wetting himself because a very similar monster had gotten him alone for just long enough to overpower him and hurt him so badly. 

And, he cried. 

He cried so hard, his chest heaving and clenching as his body shook with his sobs. He cried, right there in front of someone he only barely knew. He cried, shaking his injured bladder and making the pain inside it intensify. He cried, and he cried, and he cried. 

He hadn’t deserved to be born to such a loathsome creature as his Father. He hadn’t deserved to be sent through Hell from before he even knew how to walk, only to come out the other end so damaged and broken. He didn’t deserve to be the one picking up all the pieces that someone else had broken. He’d deserved to be loved. He’d deserved to have a chance encounter with a boy that would become his lifelong friend. He’d deserved to be held and hugged and told that everything was okay, even when it wasn’t. He’d deserved a love so great that it could sometimes cancel out all of the bad things. 

When he was finally out of tears, his cheeks soaked and his clothing ruffled, Kenneth felt… Better. He’d finally released something he’d been holding in for so long that he hadn’t even noticed the pressure of it anymore. He’d let it all out. He’d set it free. 

He’d relieved himself. 

And he felt so much better that the aching pangs in his abdomen weren’t so awful anymore. 

… But, his infection hadn’t magically gone away or anything. It was still there, and it was causing him to need to pee quite badly yet again. “Uh— Um…” he sat up straighter. “I… Feel a lot better now. I don’t really know why… All I did was yell, talk, and cry… But, I don’t know. Maybe you’re right, maybe I need to talk to my friends about this stuff, even if they do already know it. And, maybe I need to… Um… ‘let myself feel things’, or whatever you said… It’s… Okay to cry?” 


“Yes,” Miriam said. 

“Even though I’m… Supposed to be…” Kenneth looked down at his uniform again. 

“Even though you’re a soldier,” Miriam said. “Everyone needs to cry sometimes.” 

“Al—Alright,” Kenneth said, standing up. “I… um… I need to… When I get UTIs I end up needing to—“ 

“Try not to hold it while you recover,” Miriam said. “I’m sure you were told that the other times, though. I’ll get you some antibiotics to take. And, when you’re feeling too much, I want you to talk to someone. Just… Anyone you can trust. It looks like that helps you, doesn’t it?” 

“It does…” Kenneth agreed. 

*** 

Kenneth was back in one of the main rooms, he told Dwight he needed to pee one more time before they left. Dwight was glad he’d chosen to speak up, that he wasn’t still trying to delay it to avoid the burning. Something about Kenneth seemed different than he’d been during the morning, he was less shaky, less fragile… Dwight no longer worried that he’d cause his friend to shatter just by breathing wrong. 

It only took a minute for Dwight to coax Kenneth’s stream out that time. When he heard his friend start whimpering, saw him gritting his teeth, Dwight held him even tighter. “I’m sorry…” he said. “It is just another infection, though?” 

“Y—Yeah, but more severe,” Kenneth confirmed as his pee came to a stop. “Th—That’s all of it…” 

“Good,” Dwight praised, as his friend zipped up, Dwight looked unsure. “Um… The train ride back…” he said. “We have to leave today… I don’t know how…” 

“I always hold it through that,” Kenneth reminded. 

“Yes, but normally you aren’t sick with something that makes you have to go more often, AND makes it super dangerous for you to hold it.” 

Kenneth sighed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go on the train. He could maybe go at the station when they stopped at the half-way point, but even that could prove to be too long of a wait in his current condition. 

“You… Made it through the night okay,” Dwight considered. “Maybe I should give you your insomnia medication and try to have you sleep through the ride?” 

Kenneth nodded, that could work. He hadn’t gotten up in the night to pee, but he HAD woken up having an emergency. “I’ll need somewhere to go right away after I get up,” he said. 

“I know, I’m hoping you’ll be able to manage it at the station. You’ve gone there before without a problem, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

*** 

Kenneth had to go badly again by the time they arrived at the train station. He told Dwight, and with his help, he was able to use the restroom there. He shuddered and cringed as the fire blazed down his length, and tried not to think about how this was going to be his last piss for hours while his bladder continued to act up. 

On board the train, Dwight gave him an antibiotic and some of his insomnia medication and he was asleep before long. Dwight really wanted to hold his hand while he slept, to rub it gently and try to impart some calm into him. It would be really awful if Kenneth had one of his horrific nightmares right now. 

But, Bryce was right there, and while he hadn’t batted an eyelash last night about the sleeping arrangement Kenneth had requested, Dwight wasn’t sure if open hand-holding was a good idea. 

“Christ, he snores like a fucking warthog…” Bryce grumbled as he reached for his book. “Barely slept last night thanks to all that, you know?” 

Dwight sighed. He found the sound of Kenneth snoring to be rather soothing, honestly… A nice reminder that he was there, so close. Dwight had trouble sleeping WITHOUT that noise. Kenneth talked in his sleep sometimes too, usually muttering vague threats “Fight me… Square up…” Dwight found THAT relaxing, too. 

“At least we won’t have to see Karl anymore,” Bryce said. “One good thing out of all this… Not that I care, because I don’t, but is Kenneth okay? He was back there with the nurse for a long time.” 

“He’s sick,” Dwight answered. “Has to take some antibiotics for a bit. Probably wouldn’t want me to say more than that.” 

“Okay… But, Paulson had… an extremely public accident last night. Is he alright?” 

“I think part of him might be in shock over it,” Dwight said. “I’m honestly going to have to wait and see what it does to him emotionally once he’s healed up more physically. He’s not feeling well right now, not himself… But, he’s still TELLING me when he needs to go, even though it’s hurting him a lot right now, so he’s doing better than I’d expected him to be.” 

*** 

Kenneth woke up when they were close to their destination. He wriggled in his seat, the pins and needles from staying still so long mixing with a sharp pressure inside his bladder. His knee bounced as he asked if they were nearly there. 

“Yes,” Dwight assured. “You slept through almost all of it… Did you have any nightmares?” 

Kenneth shook his head, “No… Mostly I dreamed about us going to the beach. Then the ocean got really loud and it started to rain, and I woke up…” He crossed his legs. “Um… We’re REALLY close, right?” 

“We are, Kenneth,” Dwight said. “I’m sorry. I know everything’s feeling bad right now.” 

Kenneth made it to their stop, cringing as he stood and exited the train. His bladder felt like it was tied in knots inside him. He was scared what would happen if he didn’t manage to let go here. Dwight was by his side quickly, taking him into the restroom and locking the door. 

He began to rub Kenneth’s shoulders, just like always, encouraging him to relax. 

Kenneth was anxious, though. That had been a long ride. Other people probably had to use this toilet now. And, the longer Kenneth took to pee, the longer they’d have to wait. They’d get impatient and start wondering what in the world was taking him so long. They’d think something was really wrong with him. They’d judge him… 

Earlier, when he’d given voice to all of his feelings, it had been like lifting a massive weight off his body. “Dwight, I am nervous because people are probably waiting on me out there…” 

Dwight blew out a calming breath, “I know,” he said. “But, you have to pee now. Try and go for me, okay?” 

Those people were also likely to see him and Dwight leave this room together. “Um… I am also nervous because they’re gonna notice that we went in here at the same time…” 

“They’ll just assume we were both desperate,” Dwight said, and when Kenneth heard his toe tapping against the floor he knew that that wouldn’t exactly be a lie… 

“I’m nervous because I just realized I’m making YOU wait, too.” 

“I don’t mind,” Dwight said. “I can hold it until you’re feeling better, no big deal…” 

Kenneth tried to fight down all his anxiety, but his worries wouldn’t fade away. If someone on the other side of that door really had to go, then they probably WERE getting frustrated with him. Dwight was right that people may assume they’d come in here together because neither of them could wait, but Karl had at least been able to see through that excuse. Dwight may have said he didn’t mind waiting, but Kenneth could hear him shifting around and felt bad for causing his friend to feel so uncomfortable. He tried and tried as hard as he could to throw the nervous feelings out of him along with his piss, but then he had another thought. 

Miriam had said that maybe trying NOT to feel the things he needed to feel wasn’t actually good for him. That his emotions probably wouldn’t all be so intense if he didn’t try to hold them back all the time. 

What if instead of trying to chase his anxiety away and just making himself more tense in the process, he… Let it run its course to see what would happen? 

Kenneth made his mind go quiet, made it cease the circular thought patterns in which the answer to one fear only seemed to create a new one. He focused on how his anxiety actually FELT, on the skittering buzz going up his arms and pooling in his chest, on the tightening in his lungs and the tension in his lower half… 

It was the first time he’d really stopped and thought about how his nerves made him feel physically— Beyond the ever-present fullness in his bladder, anyway. It was like he had little ants swarming below his skin, all throughout his body… And now that he thought about it, it was something he felt almost all of the time. Sometimes the ants would be warmer, red hot as they accompanied his rage, sometimes they’d be more ticklish if he was happy or excited… But this twitchy feeling just below his skin was always, ALWAYS there in some form. 

“I… Um… Dwight, I feel… Buzzing in my chest and arms,” Kenneth stated. 

“Hm?” Dwight asked. “Is—Is that a symptom of the infec—“ 

“No, it’s… Nerves,” Kenneth said. “That’s what they feel like. Like something’s digging around all over me.” 

“I… Guess I kind of understand what you’re trying to say? I’ve felt like my chest is gonna burst when I’ve gotten really scared before… THAT’S what you feel when you just try to pee, though?” 

“Yes,” Kenneth said. “Other times too, but when I try to pee I feel it a lot.” 

Dwight adjusted his hold on Kenneth, so that now he was rubbing his chest in a circular pattern, “Uhh… Does this help it go away?” 

For a few seconds, Kenneth still felt the twisting sensation. But, then he thought about how Dwight had just immediately changed tactics without even really being asked, how determined Dwight always was to help him and make him feel better. Now, the buzzing felt warmer, but not fiery like it was when he was mad. It was the warmth, mixed with the tickling he got when he was happy… A feeling he’d never paid attention to before, but immediately associated with Dwight. 

Love. 

And, he tried to forget about how their love was forbidden, how people would react to it, how it could go wrong. He tried to just let himself feel that love, that sense of safety and of calm. 

… 

Pssshhhh…. 

His stream started to pour out, and it burned and stung, but not as badly as it had been earlier. Already, the medication he’d taken before boarding the train seemed to be helping to ease his pain. 

“There you go…” Dwight encouraged. “Keep doing that…” He was happy when he didn’t hear Kenneth whimper or cringe, didn’t see him stomp his feet with discomfort. 

Half a minute later, Kenneth was finished and zipping up. “I feel better,” he informed. 

“That’s good,” Dwight said, unzipping his own pants and letting go right away. “Phew…” 

“Sorry I made you wait…” 

“It’s okay, I already told you,” Dwight reminded. “Want to take care of you first.”

Edited by secretomoact (see edit history)
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The medication Kenneth was taking helped a lot, after two days, while he was still needing to urinate frequently and experiencing burning whenever he let it out, the pain in his back had faded entirely.

Kenneth had to stay inside while he recovered from his illness. His first day back, he’d tried to keep working, but had found it to be impossible. Every thirty minutes, he’d be hit with an agonizing need to relieve his bladder. Bryce allowed him to go every time he asked— Only because he’d get in trouble for not looking after his subordinates health, not because he cared about Kenneth, or anything! So, twice an hour Kenneth would be rushing back and forth to empty his bladder, and that had severely hindered his ability to actually DO his job. 

The second day, he returned to his post, but Bryce insisted that he should just let himself rest for now— Because it had been annoying to have to grant so many breaks the day before! That was all! He didn’t care one way or the other if Kenneth got better! Not at all! Kenneth had tried to argue for a bit, but as he’d presented his case and tried to prove that he was still capable of working, his bladder surged violently and he’d been forced to stop mid-sentence to request a toilet break. 

“Just go back and rest, I’ll fill in for you today,” Bryce rolled his eyes. “Jeez…” 

So, Kenneth had obeyed, and for the rest of the day he stayed in his room, close to the spot where he could most easily urinate.

That night, Dwight really started to notice that something about Kenneth had changed. Kenneth had begun to fidget and writhe in his arms in the middle of the night. Dwight had responded by tightening his grip around his friend and kissing him lightly on the cheek, trying to calm him down. 

When Kenneth’s eyes flew open, and he realized Dwight had already woken up as well, Dwight expected him to just mumble “Another nightmare about my Father…” and leave it at that. But… Instead, Kenneth kept talking. He described which event his brain had just forced him to relive, how he’d felt when it had actually been happening to him, and how it made him feel now that it had been replayed to him in his dream. “I feel so angry, Dwight. I’m tired of having nightmares about this stuff. It’s over, I want to forget about it. It isn’t fair.” 

‘Want’. That word caught Dwight’s attention. Its meaning was different from the usual “I SHOULD have forgotten it all by now.” It was acknowledgement that his memories weren’t removable, just a desire that they COULD be gotten rid of. “It ISN’T fair,” Dwight agreed. “But, now you’re awake. You know it’s over, and you’re with me now.” 

“Yes…” Kenneth allowed himself to snuggle deeper against his friend. “I feel… I feel safe when you’re with me.” 
The next morning, Kenneth scrambled from bed to the toilet, and Dwight watched as he just barely yanked his pajama pants down before a stream blasted from his tip. “Hnnnh…” Kenneth whimpered a bit as it poured out of him. It seemed that his first pee of the day was always the one that stung most for him. 

“Stay inside again today,” Dwight told him, opening the cap on Kenneth’s medication. “Take this and try to feel better.”

“I can’t skip two days in a row,” Kenneth complained. “Bryce filled in for me yesterday, but my post is supposed to be for TWO people.” 

“I can be there with Bryce today,” Dwight said. “You just need to focus on getting well again, alright?” 

“But, it’s supposed to be your day off,” Kenneth reminded. 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind working one more day.” 

“Okay…” Kenneth sighed. “If you’re sure you can handle the extra work.” 

“I can, don’t worry about it,” Dwight promised. He got himself ready for the day, putting on his uniform and relieving his bladder before heading out. Dwight didn’t feel even the slightest hint of worry about skipping his day off, but he knew he was going to feel… Weird being around Bryce so much today. 

Dwight had been feeling a tiny bit awkward while in Bryce’s presence ever since the night everything had happened with Karl. More specifically, Dwight had been feeling awkward ever since the aftermath of those events; The three of them, cuddling in bed together. 

Through the night, Dwight had tried to tamp down the possessive urge to pull Kenneth closer to HIM and further from Bryce, fearful of what Bryce might think if he noticed he was getting… Well, there was no other word to describe it, he was getting JEALOUS. An aching, yearning feeling that made Dwight squirm every time he remembered it. 

Dwight thought he was being silly— He KNEW he was being silly— He’d never seen any indication that Bryce liked ANY men at all, let alone one that he constantly insulted and argued with. He’d seen Bryce stumble over his words and blush around Elizabeth—THAT was who Bryce liked, not Kenneth. 

The night he and Kenneth had first really talked about their relationship, Kenneth had explained that Dwight was the ONLY person he’d ever felt attracted to in his entire life, that he didn’t think he COULD feel attracted to anyone unless he was already very, very close to them. 

But, could Kenneth get close to another person in the same way, and then he’d find himself interested in THEM, too? Dwight didn’t really know how that worked! For him, he’d just… See a person sometimes, be they a man or a woman, and think to himself that they were kind of hot. He didn’t need to really KNOW them first before he thought that, but those instances still weren’t the same feelings he got when he was around Kenneth. 

He did definitely think Kenneth was a good looking guy, and over the years most of the men Dwight had ever felt interested in would sort of LOOK like Kenneth did— They’d be short, narrow, bony, have big eyes and light hair— but for all he knew, falling so hard for Kenneth had been the thing to shape his taste in men. 

That too seemed different for Kenneth, he’d said plenty of times that he loved Dwight’s abs and muscular arms, but said he’d never been enticed by those features on any other person. Later, he’d commented that if Dwight ever exercised less and got out of shape, he’d probably just suddenly have a thing for chubby stomachs because now that feature would be a part of Dwight’s body. Dwight hadn’t shaped Kenneth’s taste in men exactly, instead Kenneth’s tastes just morphed to accommodate whatever Dwight happened to look like. 

So, Dwight thought it was silly to be jealous of Bryce any time he happened to touch Kenneth, as it seemed that the only real requirement Kenneth had for a romantic partner was that they just… Be Dwight. 

But, Dwight worried anyway, what if someday there WAS a person Kenneth bonded with as much as he had with Dwight? What if Kenneth started to like them even better? 

And, beneath that jealousy and worry, there was something else about that night. At one point, Dwight had woken up for a moment and discovered that his and Bryce’s hands had joined together when they’d both been draping their arms across Kenneth, and Dwight hadn’t had ANY urge to unlink their fingers. But, THAT was something he found too confusing to even contemplate, so he tried his best to just ignore it. 

*** 

Bryce stood in the area where he usually supervised Kenneth during the day. Yesterday, he had discovered that remaining vigilant for intruders was a lot more difficult than making sure his subordinate didn’t fall asleep, sit down, or wander off without permission. He was really much more used to keeping his eyes on one, specific person. Trying to watch out for actual threats wasn’t as easy. 

This morning, Bryce noticed a slight pressure and realized he may just end up having an even harder time concentrating than he’d had yesterday. He’d remembered to relieve his bladder after getting up, but he’d also woken to a very dry mouth that had caused him to drink a little more water than he typically did. He already needed the toilet again— He certainly wasn’t desperate, but the urge was just insistent enough that he couldn’t push it out of his brain. 

‘Dwight pisses here constantly,’ Bryce reminded himself.

‘Yes, but he’s an idiot,’ another part of his mind argued. ‘You’re better than that.’ 

‘No one’s around to see you, though,’ his other side pointed out. 

Bryce glanced around, confirming that no one would see if he chose to relieve his bladder right where he was. He reached for his belt and started to unclasp it. ‘Just this once,’ he thought. ‘Just so you can concentrate.’ His hips hitched forwards slightly as he tried to ready himself. 

Before he’d managed to get his belt undone, Bryce heard approaching footsteps that made him jump hard before freezing in his place. His hands balled themselves into fists by his sides as he spun around. “S—Smith," he said. “You are supposed to be resting today.” 

“Since Kenneth’s still not feeling well, I thought I’d help you out,” Dwight explained. “I don’t mind.” 

A curious sensation was thrumming around within Bryce’s abdomen then, a sort of confused pulsing that began at the base of his cock and flared down through to his tip. The little bolt Bryce typically felt in the millisecond before his bladder began to empty— only this time the feeling just continued on and on, growing stronger, as his bladder struggled to understand why its relief had suddenly been snatched away in the last moment. His body had been anticipating relief, and now that was well beyond his reach. It all made Bryce feel like he had to go a whole lot worse than he actually did, and he rocked on his feet to try to chase away all the little pangs. “Well,” he said finally. “Well… Alright. If you’re sure.” 

Dwight took his spot and stood there quietly. It wasn’t because he couldn’t think of anything to talk about, but because the one topic he could think of was one he didn’t WANT to bring up. He was sure Bryce didn’t want to talk about that night very much, either. He’d noticed how uncomfortably stiff Bryce’s body had gone at the sight of him, a confirmation that everything was going to feel awkward for a little while. 

‘Did Bryce notice that we’d started holding hands?’ Dwight kept wondering. That was the moment that weighed on his mind the most. Squeezing Bryce’s hand super tightly, while cuddling Kenneth so closely… Dwight had to stop thinking about that. It made him feel twitchy. “Kenneth is doing a little better, I think,” he informed. “He doesn’t feel pain unless he’s… You know, going. And he says it isn’t AS bad now.” 

Bryce looked away. He hated to admit it, but he’d been HOPING Dwight would say something so that he could have a distraction from his bladder. But, of course, Dwight’s chosen topic of conversation had to be Kenneth’s bladder and the things that were wrong with it. “Th—That’s good,” Bryce said. He glanced down, and saw his toes were pointing in towards one another. That wouldn’t do! He was supposed to stand with his legs apart, feet facing out! He corrected his pose, feeling another little tremor of need just beneath the soft skin of his abdomen. 

‘You know you can go in front of him, right?’ Bryce tried to reason. ‘You’ve done it before, and he’s… Open about these matters. He’d be the last person to judge you for this.’ But, to do that would be like saying he COULDN’T hold it anymore, when he KNEW that he could. He only kind of had to go, it wasn’t taking any effort at all to keep his pee where it belonged. He only wanted to pee so that he’d feel more comfortable throughout all the long hours he’d have to stand here. That was all. 

But, if he peed, Dwight would THINK he was doing it because he was having an emergency, not simply because his urge was irritating him. Bryce would not allow Dwight to assume— Even for a second— that he was bursting and couldn’t hold it. 

He’d wait. He’d wait and put up with all the annoying buzzing throbs happening down below. They weren’t a big deal. 

Dwight had gone quiet again. Without permission, his brain replayed the hand-holding from the other night on loop. He wished he’d just slept through that, then he wouldn’t know it had happened and he wouldn’t have to feel so confused about it. “He’s talking more,” Dwight informed at last. “Which is good. I expected him to keep being silent, like he was right after… Right after everything happened.” 

“Good, good,” Bryce nodded. He knew he probably should have said something else after that, but he couldn’t think of anything. When he’d come into that room, when he’d seen Karl manhandling Kenneth and causing him to flood his pants in public like that, he’d been so shocked by the cruelty of it that it was all he could really focus on. 

Replaying the memory now though, when his own bladder was being so terribly annoying, Bryce kept coming back to how loudly Kenneth’s stream had hissed into his clothes, to the splashes of the liquid soaking onto the ground below him. It seemed Bryce didn’t even need to physically HEAR running water for it to effect his bladder, simply recalling what it sounded like was enough to get him tensing his thighs up a little more. 

And, remembering what had happened to Kenneth so recently was making Bryce remember things that had happened to HIM a long time ago. 

One day, when he was around ten, he’d been wriggling madly at his desk in the school-house. His curly hair, which had always looked pretty frazzled in those days, had become even more unkempt thanks to his constant, uncontrollable bouncing. At one point, he’d timidly asked his teacher if he could be excused, but she never allowed anyone to leave during class, no matter how obvious it was that they needed a break. 

Bryce swayed from side to side, crossing his legs this way and that as one of his hands held the front of his pants tightly. He could see Karl watching him from the other side of the room, he could see the amusement in the other boy’s eyes, and he knew what that meant for his chances of getting proper relief when the class was let out for recess. 

The very second they were dismissed, Bryce decided, he was going to have to RUN. He was going to have to run as fast as he possibly could, even if the harsh steps and long strides made some of his pee come out before he was ready. Running was his only hope of beating Karl to the bathroom and actually being able to USE it. 

After what felt like days, the class was dismissed for recess. Bryce’s bladder was yelling at him to stand up slowly and carefully to prevent an accidental spill, but ‘slow’ and ‘careful’ wouldn’t get him to the toilet before Karl did. So, he launched himself out of his seat, sure enough a dribble trailed down his legs right away, but he didn’t care. He just had to get there in time! He took off into a sprint, running out of the room and onto the playground. More pee came out with each step and he could feel himself getting more sodden by the second. He still had to try!

On the playground, he made the turn towards the restroom too fast, losing control over his feet and landing harshly onto the ground. Another big leak left him then, but that was nothing compared to his other problem; his glasses had flown off his face. 

Bryce had incredibly poor vision. Without his thick glasses, he couldn’t see past his own nose. Everything was just a blurry, smudged lump of barely identifiable shapes. He frantically felt around on the ground for them, and his heart sank when he made contact with broken glass. 

His eyes welled up with tears, his parents were going to be really mad! And… And he still had to go so much! Lip trembling, he picked up the glasses and struggled onto his feet. He could feel only the left lens had shattered, so he was going to be able to see out of ONE eye, still. He put them on and closed his left eye, now mostly able to see where he was going. 

He made it to the restroom, but of course, his fall and search for his glasses had given Karl enough time to beat him. Karl laughed as soon as he saw Bryce. “You still need to go? I’m surprised you didn’t wet yourself when you fell,” he said. “That was hilarious.” 

Karl was blocking the toilet, same as he always did whenever he decided that tormenting Bryce’s bladder was how he’d like to spend his recess. 

“You smell like piss,” Karl remarked, stepping closer to Bryce. “You SURE you actually need to be in here anymore? And I see you’re half-blind now, have fun telling your parents you busted your glasses because you can’t hold your pee.” 

Bryce was clutching at his front with both hands now. He’d stopped losing trickles into his clothes, but he felt like he was about to burst completely! “I have a few coins in my pockets,” he stated. “Just take those and let me use the toilet.” 

Karl snorted out another laugh. “Can’t let go of yourself for two seconds to reach them on your own?” he guessed. He reached into Bryce’s pockets and retrieved his change. He looked at the three coins, then tossed them to the ground. “That’s hardly anything!” he said. “Definitely not enough for me to let you pee.” 

“Please?” Bryce asked. “I haven’t got anything else!” 

“Alright. If you can hold it for one more minute, I’ll let you go,” Karl decided. 

“J—Just one more minute?” tears were going down Bryce’s face. “Promise?” 

“Promise,” Karl assured. “Starts now.” 

Bryce could hold it one more minute. It hurt so bad, but he could hold it one more minute! Just one more minute, and he’d feel all better. Just one more minute, and it would be over. His insides would stop burning. He’d only have to hide a little, tiny wet spot on his pants for the rest of the day. One more minute. One more minute. He could do it. 

But then, Karl had grabbed him, and Karl was much bigger than Bryce. Karl pinned Bryce against the wall with one hand, and used the other to press down on his lower stomach. 

And Bryce couldn’t hold it at all after that. 

Bryce didn’t like to remember that day, or the dozens of others that were exactly like it. Sometimes, he was able to push those memories out, but then something would happen to bring them all back. 

Seeing Karl do it again had hurt, even if it wasn’t Bryce that he’d done it to. If anything, seeing it happen to someone else made Bryce feel even worse, because he was forced to confront what he must have LOOKED like in those moments. That shocked, vacant expression on Kenneth’s face, the stunned tears, the heaving… 

And, it wasn’t that he felt bad for Kenneth. Because he didn’t. He felt nothing for Kenneth, aside from annoyance. And he certainly hadn’t been relieved when Kenneth asked him to stay by his side that night because it meant he’d be able to keep an eye on him and make sure he was okay. He certainly hadn’t been happy when Kenneth wanted him to spend the night in bed. He certainly hadn’t enjoyed holding onto him. 

He hadn’t. 

“If… Um… If it makes Paulson feel any better,” Bryce began, unsure of what he was even saying. “You can tell him that Karl used to do that to me all of the time.” 

“Huh?” Dwight asked.

“The… Pushing thing,” Bryce said. “When you… When you need to go and he squeezes you until you have an accident. He did that to me a lot. He thought it was funny.” Talking about this wasn’t helping his current bladder situation at all, and he had no clue why he was saying this— Why he was giving Dwight permission to tell Kenneth about one of the most awful, humiliating things that had ever happened to him. 

“Oh…” Dwight said. He looked away. That weird feeling was getting bigger. Bryce didn’t usually just ‘share’ things like that— Especially not if they were embarrassing! Usually, it took a lot of work to get Bryce to acknowledge that he HAD a bladder, much less that there’d ever been a time where he’d lost control over it. 

Speaking of bladders, Dwight’s own was starting to feel pretty full. He couldn’t hold his urine for as long as his friends could, it was lucky that he was also the one that was most open about his needs, that had the least amount of trouble attending to them around other people. He’d peed at this spot loads of times, simply turning around as soon as his bladder became too full to ignore and letting everything out. There was no reason for him not to do that right now. 

He turned away, hand going to his belt. But, then he froze. He was about to take his… thing out. Right in front of Bryce. 

He’d exposed his penis in front of Bryce plenty of times, though! He’d urinated in front of the other man more times than he could count! Every time Bryce supervised him out here, Dwight would empty his bladder several times throughout the day without even thinking about it! Bryce had seen his dick before, why did it suddenly feel different today? 

Bryce had bitten back a groan when he’d seen Dwight turn around, sure that he was about to hear a zipper being yanked down followed by the sharp hiss of pee striking the dirt between Dwight’s feet. Bryce’s hips were already wriggling at the thought. The last thing his bladder wanted right now was to be forced to listen as someone else went. 

But then, Dwight just turned back around without doing anything. “Your zipper caught again?” Bryce guessed. 

Dwight jumped slightly. “O—Oh, no. I wasn’t… I don’t have to go,” he said. “I was just looking at a bug.” 

“A bug…” Bryce repeated. 

“Yeah,” Dwight said. 

Dwight was the exact opposite of pee-shy, so Bryce had no reason to doubt him, but that STILL sounded like an excuse— Hell, it sounded like an excuse Bryce HIMSELF would use if he was caught just about to urinate. “…Alright,” he said finally. He certainly wasn’t going to argue, it wasn’t as though he WANTED to be subjected to the sound of Dwight releasing a stream when he still needed to keep his OWN stream right where it was. 

Wow, it would sure feel good to let it out, though… Bryce’s urge for relief had grown considerably since he’d first noticed it. The pressure was now severe enough that it was forcing him to move about. He swayed from side to side, his knees occasionally bending as he tapped his fingers against his hips. Pressing his thighs together, Bryce asked “What kind of bug was it?” desperate for something else to think about. 

Dwight cringed as he tried to think of a type of bug. His mind was blank, however. Now that he’d noticed he had a full bladder, the only words that he WANTED to say were “I need to pee!” and it was difficult to come up with different ones. “I— I don’t know. It was big. A beetle, I guess.” 

Bryce crossed his arms, since he didn’t DARE do the same thing with his legs. “So long as it wasn’t a poison one.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Dwight said, taking a few hesitant steps in place. It was so hard for him to keep quiet and still when he had to go! If he couldn’t TALK about his need, he at least had to squirm! 

An hour later, Dwight was REALLY squirming— That was how it was for him, his bladder could go from ‘uncomfortable but manageable’ to ‘stretched within an inch of its life’ VERY quickly. One hour of holding was all it took for Dwight to be constantly bouncing in place, crossing his legs and biting back tiny, needy moans. 

Bryce was pacing stiffly next to him, his stomach felt bloated and full, straining with urgency. He swore Dwight must have needed to go as well— Most days, Dwight would have urinated at his post at least ONCE by now, and he was ridiculously antsy at the moment. But, Bryce knew that couldn’t be the case because Dwight didn’t have any reason to hold it. He knew the other man didn’t possess even the slightest bit of shame, and he couldn’t have been holding it in out of sympathy for Kenneth— If Kenneth was having trouble urinating right now, Dwight would have said as much first thing. 

Plus, Dwight NEVER shut the fuck up when he had to pee, and he hadn’t said even one word about wanting the toilet. So, Bryce reasoned, he must have been squirming for some OTHER reason. Likely, he was just worried about his sick friend. “I am sure Paulson will recover,” Bryce said. “He has had infections before, he always gets better.” 

“H—He will,” Dwight agreed. He shifted his weight again, folding his arms across his chest and bending over a little bit, fighting to find a position that took some of the edge off his need. ‘I need to peeeee…’ he screamed inside his head. ‘I need to pee sooooo bad!’ But, merely thinking the words didn’t make him feel better in the same way moaning them aloud always did. 

“So, try not to worry too much,” Bryce added. He checked his watch. Still a few hours to go until their midday break. Bryce would go then. Probably. So long as Dwight didn’t follow him or something. He knew he’d been awful fidgety for the last hour, so there was a chance Dwight suspected he needed to pee badly. If Dwight saw him GO as soon as they took their break, he’d be confirming the other’s suspicion— And making Dwight think that he couldn’t hold it. 

That was unacceptable of course, because Bryce COULD hold it. Doing that was taking a considerable amount of effort now— He found himself having to rhythmically tense and relax his thigh muscles over and over to fight down the harsher spasms— but he COULD definitely hold it! 

Dwight bounced on his heels. He turned around again, intending to give up and let himself piss in the same spot he’d pissed literally hundreds of times without ever once feeling ashamed about it. His hands clutched at his belt, and a gasp fell from his lips at a sudden surge in pressure. His bladder felt like a bloated water balloon resting in his lower abdomen, so full that its sides were beginning to tear. He twisted his legs and, rather than taking his belt apart like he’d WANTED to, he instead just started to tug at it, trying to draw it further way from his sore middle. 

‘This is silly,’ Dwight thought. ‘I have to go so bad! I need to do it now! Right now!’ He tried to will himself to take his clothing apart for a much, MUCH needed piss, but his hands just wouldn’t cooperate. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he was going to need to expose himself with Bryce there. 

‘Which you’ve done HUNDREDS of times,’ Dwight reminded himself. ‘He’s not going to peek, and even if he does, he’s SEEN it before. It’s not new. What’s so different now? Just because you held hands with him while you were both mostly asleep?’ He knew that wasn’t really the problem, he knew it had more to do with what the hand-holding had made him FEEL, but he didn’t even UNDERSTAND what it had made him feel! 

Bryce watched Dwight turn and braced himself for a deluge of liquid that was sure to send his bladder into fits of spasming rage. Slowly, he crossed one leg over the other and allowed them to squeeze. Then, he just saw Dwight start to anxiously fiddle with his belt. He was deeply confused. “Do you need help getting it apart…?” 

Dwight turned back around, “Hm? No… I— Get what apart?” 

“Your belt…” Bryce stated. Liquid was pounding in his bladder, making his voice waver. His need was starting to pulsate harshly within his lower stomach. He tensed all his abdominal muscles, thighs quivering at a wave of need. “I thought you were about to relieve yourself…” 

Dwight adjusted his belt yet again, but no matter what he did it just kept applying cruel, awful pressure onto his poor bladder. “Nope,” he said. “I… Uh…” He wanted to tell Bryce he needed to go, he wanted to tell Bryce that he suddenly felt abnormally strange about exposing himself while Bryce was there… But, then he’d probably end up saying WHY. “Nope,” he said. “I don’t have to go. I’m just… Um… Itchy. My stomach itches. The belt’s in the way. That’s why I’m pulling on it so much.” 

“Well, I hope you’re not allergic to the new soap they’re having us use,” Bryce said. 

“Maybe that IS it,” Dwight said quickly, continuing to fiddle with his belt. “A—Anyway, you said Karl has always been like this?” he asked, trying to divert Bryce’s attention away from him. 

“Yes,” Bryce agreed. He was trying really hard to stop jiggling. Not only was his anxious movement a sure-fire way to get Dwight to notice his predicament, the squirming wasn’t helping him out at all. If anything, his fidgeting was actually making his problem WORSE. The liquid trapped within him sloshed every time he moved, sending fresh, pounding pulses of desperation through his abdomen every time the waves crashed against his trembling sphincters. “Karl likes to feel superior to everyone and I…” Bryce’s abdominal muscles tightened and his breathing hitched. “I was… I was an easy target when I was younger,” he admitted. 

Dwight was surprised to hear that. He crossed his legs briefly for a second, trying to appear casual about it. His belt was still straining hard over his brimming bladder. He tugged on it once more, trying to hold it out away from himself, but it always snapped back into place, right in the worst possible spot. ‘I have to go, I have to go, I have to go…’ he kept thinking. “Did Karl pick on everybody?” 

“Most people,” Bryce said. He tilted his head up to stare at the clouds. He didn’t want to be thinking about Karl, but the only other thing he could think of was his bladder. He knotted his legs up tight, swayed ever so slightly between his feet, and hoped Dwight wouldn’t notice. “But, me especially. I…” Bryce took off his glasses, immediately the world became clouded over, as if a sheet of plastic had been draped over his eyes. He couldn’t see the clouds anymore, and when he looked to his side he couldn’t really see Dwight, either. 

“I’ve had these since I was little,” Bryce said. “Well, not these exact ones, but you know what I mean. I was three when I got my first pair, and up until then I’d been unable to see. I can’t remember being a baby, but I’m pretty sure my vision was bad from birth, because I never thought to mention to my parents that I couldn’t see. I just thought everything was supposed to look blurry. So, my parents didn’t know something was wrong until they saw I was always getting this horrible migraines, sometimes they’d be so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. So, they took me in to see their physician and it turned out my headaches were caused by me trying so hard to see things all of the time and I just needed glasses. After that I was really happy for a while, because now I could see everything I’d been missing— Up until then I barely even knew what my parents actually looked like. I’d never been able to make out my own reflection. I never realized trees had leaves on them instead of big green globs.” 

Dwight let his thighs grind together, allowed his hips to sway and his legs to rub against one another. Bryce still hadn’t put his glasses back on, and from the sounds of it, that meant there was no way in Hell he’d be able to notice if Dwight was pee dancing. “What does that have to do with Karl?” 

“Well…” Bryce turned the glasses slightly, so Dwight could better see how thick the lenses were. “They weren’t THIS thick when I was a kid— I swear, my eyesight gets worse every year— but they were still pretty thick.” He slipped them back onto his face. Clarity returned to the world as a surge of need slammed into his bladder. He hopped in place a couple times and fought down a groan. “And, my hair’s always been curly,” he added. “But, back then it was more… Frizzy. And I was small, and a late bloomer. I didn’t really have any decent growth spurts until I was sixteen, and I didn’t work out when I was a real young kid or anything. So, I looked like… Well, this tiny, little puff-ball with coke-bottle glasses… And, if you were Karl, who would you go after? The kid who’s almost as big as you, or… Me?” 

Dwight winced and squeezed his hands into fists the second he saw Bryce put his glasses back on. He could see him again now, he had to try not to squirm so much… “I was bullied some as a kid, too,” he informed. “I guess for some of the same reasons. I was small, too. But, I mean, we were ALL pretty small at the orphanage, they were trying their best but we weren’t being fed properly. But, I was still the littlest one. And since I never put up a fight, I guess I was easy.” 

“But… You had Paulson, didn’t you?” Bryce filled in. “He’s told me… Some of the things he did for you.” There was something in Bryce’s voice, a raspy quality, almost choked. Like he was trying not to… No. He didn’t cry. He didn’t have to TRY not to cry, because he just didn’t DO it. 

“Yes,” Dwight agreed. “Kenneth… The first time I ever saw… ‘That’ side of him, the anger; It was when one of my bullies was picking on me. Kenneth just… Something came over him. He tackled this kid and made sure he’d never bother me again.” 

Bryce looked down at his feet. He saw the way they were fidgeting, stomping hard into the dirt. He didn’t know if he really wanted to continue this conversation, fearful he was about to spiral into a place he never wanted to go, but the only other thing he had to focus his attention on was the sheer need to let go of all the urine sloshing within him. “I never had anybody stand up for me like that,” he admitted. “My parents did, sort of. But, they couldn’t go to school with me. Every time they tried to help, by telling my teacher or Karl’s parents, Karl just got angrier at me. It just got worse. So I stopped telling them anything and pretended I was okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” Dwight said. “But… Oh, Kenneth eventually stood up to Karl for you just like he stood up to my bullies, right?” 

Bryce froze, and then there was… So much pressure. So much liquid screaming for release. From BOTH ends of his body. His bladder shuddered and sent horrifically painful signals down his length, threatening to let loose a little spurt if he wasn’t careful. The backs of his eyes burned and throbbed, tears pricking right at their corners. But Bryce didn’t cry, and Bryce could hold his pee. He was in control. His body wasn’t. It wasn’t. “Y—Yeah…” Bryce managed. “He did. E—Even if it ended bad for him in the end, h—he…” 

Bryce couldn’t finish his sentence. Kenneth had gone through Hell at the party the other night. Kenneth had endured a full bladder through a very long walk. Kenneth had been subjected to unimaginable pain under Karl’s hand. Kenneth had wet himself in public. Kenneth had gotten sick… Kenneth had done all those things, ultimately, because he’d CHOSEN to stand up for Bryce. 

Bryce reached up and rubbed beneath his eyes frantically, “Ah— God, something— Something is in the air today. My allergies… Y—You know I have a lot of allergies,” he said. “I…” Dear God, what was happening to him? Why was he admitting to all these things? Why was he FEELING all these things? This wasn’t supposed to happen to him!

Dwight turned away again, and Bryce fought not to roll his eyes as he assumed the other was about to piss right when they were in the middle of… Whatever the Hell this was. But, once again, Bryce’s expectations were proven false when he DIDN’T hear a zipper being pulled down. He DID hear Dwight mumbling, however. His voice was incredibly soft, but Bryce had always had better hearing than most people— Like God had given him impeccable ears as a consolation prize to make up for his abysmal vision. 

So, even if Dwight was whispering, Bryce could easily make out what he was saying, that being “I need to go… I can’t hold it… I’m gonna burst…” Which wasn’t exactly a shock to Bryce, but he didn’t understand WHY Dwight wasn’t peeing. 

Not that he was really going to complain about it. He really, REALLY didn’t want to have to stand there and hold it while Dwight urinated. So, if he wanted to hold it for some reason, Bryce wasn’t going to stop him… Even if that whimpering WAS making him feel a little bad. 

Dwight managed to quiet himself down a little bit after a moment. He hoped Bryce hadn’t heard him chanting like that— It was just so hard to stay silent when his bladder was being so agonizingly loud! Every scream from his bladder filled his chest and throat with horrid, massive pulses of pure need. ‘I have to goooo,’ he thought miserably. ‘Come on! Just do it! You’ve done it so many times! Why are you so nervous?!’ 

But, of course, Dwight KNEW why he was so nervous. He just didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t even want to let those thoughts enter into his head, because then he’d have to confront them. He had to endure this, even as his bladder shouted and yelled that he had to empty it NOW. 

When he looked back, Bryce was staring at him and his body went tense with embarrassment— Which made all the muscles around his bladder pull taut and squeeze it just as ferociously as his belt already was. “Smith— Um— Dwight… Are you alright?” Bryce asked him. 

Dwight waited a moment, anticipating the requisite “Not that I care!” which Bryce was sure to tack onto the end of the sentence. 

It didn’t come… 

“Um… H—How much longer until my break?” Dwight asked. “I am… Hungry,” he decided. 

Bryce looked at his watch, his bladder crunched in with dismay as he said “About two more hours…” 

‘Two more hours…’ Dwight repeated to himself. ‘How the Hell does Kenneth last until his break every, single day!? I’m going to burst!’ The thought of the wait ahead of him stretched out into an endless sea of desperation, his bladder spasmed hard and a pulse of urgency flared at the base of his cock just before a tiny spurt emerged into his boxers. He bent forward at the waist, panicked as he grabbed at himself for a second. Ohhh, he had to go! He stemmed the leak, but the rest still wanted out so badly! Oh God, Oh God… 

“Dwight…” Bryce said. And again, he asked “Are you alright?” 

“F—Fine,” Dwight said, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t tell Bryce he had to go, then he’d have to tell Bryce why he didn’t WANT to do it in front of him, and then he may even have to… To name the feeling! He couldn’t pee in front of Bryce, and he couldn’t tell Bryce why, which meant he just couldn’t pee. But, his bladder was searingly full, a harsh edgy tension right at the cusp of his opening, screaming at him that he couldn’t NOT pee, either. 

The stress ignited a blaze of burning, furious desperation that was like a fiery coal being pressed into his lower stomach, much more intense than his bladder could tolerate in that moment. An angry blast of pee shoved its way past his defenses, a warm rush flowing down his length and trickling shamefully into his boxers. 

With a panicked grunt, Dwight stuffed a hand into his pocket to squeeze his cock and stem the flow once more. His hips trembled, his legs twitched. He had to go so badly that his eyes were welling up! He couldn’t get a decent enough grip through the fabric of his pocket, and yet another jet of pee spritzed into his boxers, his crotch now feeling warm and sodden as he kept grinding his thighs together. He panicked and gripped himself properly and openly. His bladder throbbed at the hot dampness teasing the tip of his penis, dying to spray out everything else it still had inside. “Nnnh…” he groaned out, squeezing away like he’d been dying to for so long, clenching and clutching and bouncing. 

Bryce stared at Dwight’s obvious pee-dancing, confusion swirling inside him and mixing with the desperation flaring through his lower half. He certainly hadn’t wanted to see Dwight GO while he was trying hard not to let himself do the same, but watching someone else fidget and writhe like that wasn’t helpful, either. Keeping his eyes on Dwight guaranteed that the only thoughts in his head were related to urinating, and to needing to do so very badly— And Bryce DIDN’T need to urinate very badly! He could hold it! He just… Really, really, really WANTED to urinate right now. That was completely different! 

An order was on Bryce’s lips, he knew he was supposed to command Dwight to hold still right now. He knew he was supposed to bark at him to keep his hands by his sides, his shoulders back, his legs apart… He knew he was supposed to demand that Dwight stand PROPERLY. He WANTED to yell at Dwight to stop moving around like that, because all that squirming was so annoying! It was enough to make Bryce tap his feet, enough to make him wriggle his hips, enough to make him yearn to grab his own crotch and double over as his bladder sent him urgent pang after urgent pang! 

But, Bryce found he was having an unusual amount of trouble yelling at Dwight right now. After everything he’d just told the other, it was hard to start shouting at him. So, instead of yelling, he softly asked; “Is there a reason that you don’t wanna piss in front of me all of the sudden?” 

Even if Bryce hadn’t just ordered Dwight to go still, his words got him to do so anyway. Dwight suddenly froze in place. He straightened out a little as well, standing fully upright instead of folding over on himself as if he was trying to cradle his poor bladder. He didn’t release his hand from his dick, though. That would be too much for him to take. “I— Huh?” 

“Normally you just whip it out and go,” Bryce reminded. “Sometimes you don’t even bother with giving me a warning or turning around first.” Many times, Dwight had just unzipped and let it flow without saying a word about it. Hell, if he and Bryce were mid-conversation, he’d just pull himself out and start pissing without so much as a break in his sentence. Dwight would be completely oblivious to Bryce’s blushing and the uncomfortable way his eyes would shift, unsure of what to look at after Dwight had just randomly exposed his cock. 

The memories of those instances were the last things Bryce’s bladder needed now… The image of Dwight casually letting go without a care in the world, his stream noisily hissing away as he babbled on about whatever nonsense he’d been talking to Bryce about. It got all the liquid Bryce was holding onto now to start sloshing closer and closer against his spasming urethra. He didn’t want to see Dwight put on a repeat performance of all that right now, but Dwight was drenched in sweat in spite of the cool temperature and the fact that he’d barely moved for the last hour and a half. “Wh—What’s the problem today?” Bryce forced himself to ask.  
“N—Nothing,” Dwight said. “There’s no problem. I just… Haven’t needed to go yet today, that’s all.” 

“You were kinda mumbling about it earlier…” 

“No, I was… Saying something else. I forget what. You must have misheard,” Dwight insisted. “I don’t have to go. Why? Do you have to pee? Did you wanna go together, or something?” He thought maybe his weird, confusing feels wouldn’t be as bad if they were BOTH peeing. 

Bryce blushed hard and turned away. Could Dwight tell that he… Really WANTED to take a leak right now? He’d been trying SO hard not to let it be obvious! “Of course not,” he said. “I don’t have to pee, and why would I want to go WITH someone?” He shrugged. “I was only asking because you keep grabbing yourself.” 

Dwight was STILL grabbing himself, he couldn’t deny that. He also couldn’t deny that, in spite of how TIGHTLY he was grabbing himself, it wasn’t doing very much beyond getting his fingers wet as more urine trickled out of him every few minutes. His boxers felt heavy and sodden now, and the crotch of his pants felt pretty damp as well. He was losing the battle, but he was losing it very, very slowly. “I told you earlier, I’m really itchy,” Dwight said. “Um… Everywhere.” 

Bryce screwed up his face. “Well, in that case, could you TRY not to scratch… THERE when you’re around other people?” 

Dwight blushed, “I’ll try.” And, he did. He tried his best to let go of his dick, but even easing up on his grip prompted a long, hot jet of piss to pump down his shaft and hiss into his boxers. He was peeing! He squeezed back down hard, and with a great deal of difficulty, he managed to stop the flood. It was brutal and painful, and it took every ounce of his strength to shut off his stream and keep the rest of his burden at bay. He could feel warm liquid trailing down his leg and he doubled over. Panicked, he looked up towards Bryce— His last leak had been audible and he hoped the other man hadn’t heard it. 

Bryce HAD heard it, of course. He’d heard every drop of Dwight’s quick, little spill as it had sprayed against the material of his clothes. Nothing was worse for Bryce’s bladder than the sound of flowing liquid— And when that flowing liquid was PEE it was the absolute worst thing imaginable for him! Just as Dwight got ahold of himself and plugged up his latest leak, Bryce’s first loss of control tore out of him. 

A horrific spasm punched through his bladder, Bryce ground his teeth together so hard he heard them scraping, he writhed, thighs tensing enough to start cramping and his back arched with pain. Suddenly, his bladder felt like a water balloon that was being smashed with a sledge-hammer, a sudden burst of pressure so intense that he almost yelped. Then, there was a sharp pinch at his opening, followed by a splash of piss pooling hot around his crotch. “Ah—!” he gasped out, crossing his legs and fighting against his natural urge to hold himself. Nothing else came out of his bladder, but the shaft of his dick was burning and his urethra stung… 

Dwight was so caught up in his own desperation that Bryce’s didn’t register to him. Dwight’s middle felt like an over-ripe watermelon that was about to split wide open. The pain of shutting off that last leak had been like sending a torch up through his body. He tried to stand up further, but stretching out even a little got the urine inside him moving, rushing down, down, down against his overworked muscles, and drawing another long spurt through his piss hole, re-wetting his boxers which hadn’t even had a full minute to dry off from his last spill. “Nnnh!” he moaned, he clamped off his flow yet again, but it was torturous. 

‘Just PEE, you idiot!’ Bryce thought with irritation. If Dwight just STOPPED moving like that, if he STOPPED filling Bryce’s brain with the power of suggestion, then Bryce would be FINE. He wouldn’t want to go so much anymore! 

Being forced to watch Dwight lose it like that was making Bryce feel like… Like… Ah, like maybe he didn’t just WANT to pee after all! Maybe he… Maybe he actually really, really NEEDED to pee! Maybe he really, really needed to pee right NOW! 

His bladder certainly agreed with THAT idea, and just to punish Bryce for taking so long to admit that to himself, it convulsed and ejected a thick, warm stream down his leg that was utterly PAINFUL to cut off. Bryce took a few steadying breaths, but everything hurt so bad now that he COULDN’T calm down. He was so out of his mind from the need that he even considered DELIBERATELY letting a little more out into his pants to relieve some of the pressure so that he could hopefully last until his break. But, he knew better than to go through with that plan. He knew that if he gave his bladder permission to empty— Even just a tiny bit— He wouldn’t be able to wrench control back again. He’d drench himself totally if he offered his body even the briefest respite, so he had to hold it ALL. 

Which now meant that he had to HOLD himself, he blushed with shame as his hand made contact with his groin, but he couldn’t help it! If he didn’t have some kind of cork down there to plug himself closed, he was going to burst! Besides, Dwight was too preoccupied to notice where Bryce’s hand went, anyway! 

Dwight was squeezing himself with BOTH hands now, but even with the extra reinforcement kneading against his crotch, it didn’t feel like enough. ‘I have to go!’ he mentally whined. ‘I can’t hold it! I need to go! I need to pee! I need to go so bad! I can’t wait! I’m gonna burst! I need to pee! Please, please, please, I need to go right now! Please!’ 

He was pleading with HIMSELF. He knew he was being utterly ridiculous! He’d peed in front of Bryce SO many times. Bryce had SEEN his dick before, sometimes without even any warning that it was about to be pulled out. Bryce had seen his ass before too, that morning in the woods. Bryce had seen him shirtless. Bryce KNEW what Dwight looked like naked, he had NOTHING to hide from him, no reason to feel so self-conscious and bashful! 

‘Just because you held his hand,’ Dwight thought. ‘You’d touched his hand before that night. Why does it matter that you did it again? Just because cuddling with two people that you care a lot about made you feel… Really funny, that’s no reason to break your bladder. Just go right here, like you always do!’ He reached for his belt again, then panicked and returned his hands to his crotch instead. 

Bryce continued to watch as Dwight writhed and trembled, every squirm from the other man sent his bladder into needy convulsions and made his legs twist together even tighter against the massive flood that kept threatening to blast out like a waterfall at any second. Another spurt dribbled from his tip, and he was no longer sure if the dampness he felt around his thighs was made of sweat or of urine. He looked at his watch, half an hour until their break, and he was getting very scared that he wouldn’t make it. His bladder HURT now, it was engorged and on fire, filled with stinging misery. “Dwight…?” Bryce asked. “Are y—you sure you don’t have to go?” 

“I’m sure…” Dwight muttered, aware of how ridiculous his claim was. His leaks were getting longer, happening much more frequently, and becoming even harder to stop. Every time he forced his flow to cease, the sensation of his relief being taken away would be so painful that he’d inevitably start trickling again a moment later. 

“B… Because…” Bryce continued. There was a feeling of pulling inside him, all throughout his body. There was the feeling of his urine being pulled down towards his exit, of course. But, there was another pulling inside his chest, one that confused him and somehow hurt even worse than the desperate, urgent pulling inside his abdomen. “Um… If YOU have to pee… There’s about th—thirty minutes now until our break, and… Um… I don’t know if I can… I probably can’t hold it that long. I… I… I need to pee. I need to pee really, really bad.” 

Dwight looked up to stare at him, shocked that Bryce would admit that he NEEDED to pee, instead of just saying that he WANTED to. Shocked that Bryce would admit that he needed to do it so badly that he didn’t think he could hold it anymore! “You—“ 

“And… It REALLY looks like you have to go, too,” Bryce added. “I don’t understand. Why haven’t you just… Done it, like you usually do?” 

Dwight winced and looked away. “B—Because it feels… Weird.” 

Bryce couldn’t tell Dwight that it SHOULDN’T have felt weird. As far as he was concerned, Dwight’s habit of taking his dick out and pissing without even thinking about finding a private spot, telling whoever he was with that he was about to go, or pausing in conversation first WAS really weird. Bryce just thought it was pretty LATE for Dwight to suddenly be feeling that way about it himself. “You do it all the time, though,” he pointed out. “Hell, sometimes I worry about standing too close to you when we’re outside because I never know when you’re gonna start peeing everywhere.” That last part was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. 

“It feels weird NOW,” Dwight said. “B—Because of…” 

“Were you… Did you wake up when we were holding hands, too?” Bryce guessed. “Did THAT make you feel strange?” 

“Yes…” Dwight admitted. “You noticed, too?” 

“I did,” Bryce said. “It made me feel… Um, did it make you feel good or bad?” 

“… Good,” Dwight said. “Especially because…” 

“Because Kenneth was between us…?” 

Dwight went still for the first time in ages. 

“I heard you and Kenneth in the restroom that night,” Bryce said. “Heard you… Saying that you loved each—“ 

“Bryce, please—“ 

“Dwight, it’s okay,” Bryce said. “I promise. I won’t tell anybody. Even if you both really tick me off someday, I still won’t tell. I—“ he felt a drop of urine beading on his tip. “I— I won’t tell,” he repeated. “I just— Ah— I have to go so bad!” 

“So do I!” Dwight nodded frantically. “I’m gonna burst! I’ll DIE if I don’t go!” 

There, that was more like what Bryce was used to; Dwight vocally gasping out his desperate need for relief, not denying that he was seconds away from exploding… But, he still wasn’t ACTUALLY going like Bryce expected. “And, it’s fine that you liked holding my hand,” he added. “I… Okay, I… Didn’t mind it, either. It shouldn’t make you f—feel weird about peeing around me. You piss around Kenneth, don't you?” 

“Of course I do,” Dwight said. 

“Okay, so can you go now?” Bryce stomped his feet. “Can WE go? I’m… I’m absolutely bursting.” 

“You want to go together?” Dwight guessed. 

“Well… I guess. Not like I can wait for you to finish right now,” Bryce said, but his tone wasn’t as reluctant as his words were. “Ah— Gotta…” he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped, he parted his legs and aimed into the dirt, a few dribbles beading up from his tip and slowly flowing down as he fought to keep holding on. “Hur—Hurry,” Bryce pleaded. “It’s about to come out!” As if to agree with him, an eager burst of urine splashed against the ground. “Hurry!” he repeated. 

Dwight WAS hurrying, he needed to go so badly that seeing Bryce lose control of those little spurts was almost too much for him! He unzipped and stood beside Bryce, finally relaxing his aching muscles and allowing the ocean trapped inside of him to blast out in a highly pressurized spray. “Mmmmm…” he hummed blissfully through his nose. “Better…” 

Bryce let go as well, and immediately the sensations taking place within him were something that went beyond mere relief. It was bliss, it was wonderful, it was amazing, it was just… So, so good. His eyes shut a little and his lips parted as he panted with pure, utter contentment. “Ah—Ah— Ahhhhhhh….” his swollen, firm bladder finally started to shrink as his desperation started to replace itself with comfortable emptiness. 

After a few more seconds of simply urinating in relative silence, Dwight flinched as he recalled a part of their conversation. “Y—You heard… You heard Kenneth and I—“ 

“Hahhh,” Bryce moaned, trying to catch his breath so he could respond. He usually detested having a conversation while he urinated, but this was too important. “I already said, I’m not telling anyone. I PROMISE. You don’t have to worry.” 

“And… You liked holding my hand?” Dwight asked, shivering slightly as his body continued to eject each and every drop of liquid it had within it. 

“I didn’t MIND it,” Bryce corrected. He was a little surprised by how talking like this hadn’t interrupted his flow. Usually, trying to speak and pee at the same time didn’t work so well for him, he’d lose concentration and start subconsciously holding it again. Not this time though. Maybe he’d just needed to piss so badly today that he didn’t HAVE to concentrate on getting it out. “I didn’t MIND it,” he repeated. “Like… Like holding onto Kenneth. I didn’t MIND it, but I… I definitely didn’t ENJOY it, or anything.” 

Dwight went quiet for a second, continuing to enjoy his release. Wow, he’d really, REALLY needed this one. He hadn’t had to pee THAT bad since the day he’d tried to make himself wait until after Kenneth peed… Because he’d gotten jealous over Bryce cuddling him after a nightmare. He still really wished Kenneth had gotten HIM up for that, then HE could have been the one to hold him… Or BOTH of them could have— 

No. Stop it. Those thoughts were too confusing! He needed to get rid of them! 

“Bryce…” Dwight began. 

Bryce sighed, but it sounded more irritated than relieved. “Dwight. I’m trying to GO, remember?” 

“Doesn’t look like you’re having any trouble,” Dwight said. “You’re managing.” 

“Ah, no, don’t look!” Bryce scolded. Then, for reasons he couldn’t understand, HE immediately broke his own rule when his eyes flicked over to Dwight’s cock and the stream jetting out of it. 

“And it’s just…” Dwight continued. “You mean it? You’re not… Mad about Kenneth and I? You were okay with the… The hand thing, and holding Kenneth, and—“ 

“It’s FINE,” Bryce emphasized. “I promise. I can… I can PROVE it, too. I’m going to… Tell you something.” He felt his stream starting to taper off, his bladder just about drained. “It’s just… Look, you can’t tell ANYBODY about this. Ever,” Bryce said seriously. “Not even Paulson, you have to promise me.” 

“O—Okay, I promise.” Dwight assured, he pushed down on his pelvic muscles a bit, releasing the final few spurts from his bladder before zipping up.

“Good,” Bryce took several steadying breaths as he too finished peeing— A massive shiver ripping up his spine once the last of his burden was gone. He zipped his pants and awkwardly fiddled with his glasses. “It’s… Okay. I… Sometimes I go to… This one place in town, it’s sort of like a secret club. People go there to… Explore things that they can’t other places,” he was unsure how much to share about that club. He had no intention of telling Dwight— Or anyone outside the club for that matter— that he enjoyed the feeling of submitting all control to another person, that he liked being tied down, immobilized and toyed with using clamps, whips and paddles. Dwight most definitely did not need to know about THAT. 

“What kind of stuff?” 

“Um…” Bryce lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Lots of things. Things that would be frowned on outside. Casual… Experimentation, I suppose is what you’d call it. Nothing serious just… Exploration. I generally am with a woman when I go there, sometimes multiple at once… I have… I have been with men a couple times as well, and sometimes I have been with both at the same time.”

Dwight couldn’t believe his ears. He struggled to imagine the tight-laced, rule-enforcing man engaging in activities like the ones he was describing. “What?!” 

“You can’t tell ANYBODY,” Bryce emphasized. “And, I’m not telling you where this club is, a lot of people will be in a lot of trouble if—“ 

“It’s okay, Bryce,” Dwight said. “I don’t care what you do for fun. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I thought you liked Elizabeth.” 

Bryce blushed. “I do,” he admitted. “I really do. Like I said, the stuff at the club, it’s all just casual, it’s not like having a relationship. It’s just meant to be a place to enjoy yourself and forget about things for a few hours before you have to go back to your regular life. Half the people there probably don’t even use their real names— I know I don’t.” 

“So, you like men?” Dwight asked. 

“Shhhh!” Bryce hissed, even though no one was around to overhear. “I— I don’t know if I’d call it that. Most of the times I was with a man, I’d been… Wanting to try something, and the other people interested were men, so that’s who I went with. Like I said, mostly I always end up with women.” 

“But, did you… Feel anything for the men?” Dwight asked. 

Bryce blushed and looked away. “Wh—Why does that matter?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m just sort of confused because I see people that I think are good looking, and sometimes they’re men and sometimes they’re women, and I like Kenneth more than I’ve ever liked anybo—“ 

“I—I’ve found some of the men there… Interesting, yes,” Bryce muttered. “And the women,” he added quickly. “A—And… Um… There was this one… Other person there…” 

“Someone you liked more than casually?” 

“No, that’s not it…” Bryce ran a hand through his hair, unsure of how to explain this. “They were… I’ve seen them there a few times. The first time, they were in a dress so I thought ‘that’s a woman’, but their hair was so short, it made me think ‘man’. The next time, they were wearing a suit, so I thought ‘man’, but they had on a lot of make-up; lipstick, eye-liner, like a woman. I’m not sure what they are.” 

“What’s their name?” Dwight asked. He’d never seen anyone and been unable to guess if they were a boy or a girl before, he HAD gotten it wrong a couple times in the past and realized it once he’d heard the person’s name, though. 

“They said it was just ‘V’,” Bryce said. “And that didn’t help. Like I told you, lots of people there don’t use their real names. I actually asked once if they were a man or a woman, and they just said ‘I’m an experience.’ So, I have no idea what that meant, but whatever they are, I think they’re… Really good-looking and interesting.” 

“Have you… Done anything with them?” 

“Once,” Bryce said. “V left their clothes on the whole time, they said that’s a rule for being with them— Oh, at the club, everybody kind of lists out rules they have, so if there’s something you absolutely NEVER want to try, everyone will know not to ask. And getting naked is the only thing V says ‘no’ to.” 

“You go there all the time?” 

“I try to go at least once a month if there’s time,” Bryce said. “It’s hard to get a chance to, though. And, I need to be really careful going in and coming out, in case it’s ever discovered I don’t want anyone to be able to say that I was in there… So, that’s why you really can’t tell anybody about this.” 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Dwight said. “Promise.” 

“Okay,” Bryce nodded. “So, see? We both have big secrets. I trust you to keep mine, so you can trust me to keep yours, right?” 

Their break came a few minutes later and, surprisingly, they spent it together, continuing to talk. For the remainder of the day, Dwight didn’t shy away from peeing in front of Bryce. Sometimes, Bryce even went alongside him. Both were far more comfortable in so many ways. 

That night, Bryce struggled a bit to fall asleep. Because, he actually had a couple more ‘big secrets’ that he HADN’T told Dwight about today. He’d admitted that he hadn’t minded cuddling with Kenneth in bed, and that hadn’t been a lie. 

He’d LOVED it. 

And, when he’d talked to Dwight about the hand-holding, he’d made it sound like he too had just woken up and found their hands entwined— And he was grateful that his bladder had been so full when he’d said it, otherwise he may have struggled to keep a straight face. 

Because, Bryce’s hand hadn’t joined Dwight’s purely by accident while they’d slept. Bryce had grasped it deliberately, and then hadn’t wanted to let it go.

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  • 5 weeks later...

Dwight stood in front of the toilet, his bladder aching with need and his holding muscles burning with the effort of impeding what was sure to be a massive flood. But, that was the problem, his holding muscles didn’t HAVE to try to restrain his liquid. He was, after all, in front of a toilet. He was staring at the very answer to his problem, staring at the gateway to relief. 

His zipper was down and he’d been aiming himself at the toilet for the past several minutes now, telling himself over and over that it was time to STOP holding his bladder so that he could relax and feel comfortable for the remainder of this very, very long train journey. 

His pee didn’t want to listen to him, though. His pee seemed perfectly content to continue straining away in his rock-hard bladder, stretching its walls further and further until the need to let them collapse and squeeze became so overwhelming that Dwight couldn’t help but whine to himself. “Pleeeeeaaaase… This isn’t fair! I have to go so bad!” 

His bladder showed him no pity, didn’t ease its tension even slightly. 

Dwight had some idea of what was going on, this wasn’t his first time having trouble urinating while on-board a train. He knew that the need to constantly pay attention to his balance, and the ever-present awareness of something moving beneath his feet was causing his body to clamp up more than it usually would. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was a very, very BAD time for it to be happening. 

This was the longest train ride he’d ever been on. On their way back from a speech, Bryce had insisted on taking a train that WOULDN’T be making any stops before reaching their destination. Dwight had protested a little, reminding Bryce that he’d had a lot of water during the speech and likely wouldn’t be able to wait so long without a stop. But, Bryce told him it would be fine since THIS train HAD a toilet that he could use. 

Except, Dwight couldn’t actually use it… 

As he rocked from foot to foot, he placed a hand over his abdomen and squeezed down as hard as he could bear it. “Ouch!” he exclaimed as pressure radiated out from beneath the cruel, unforgiving weight of his own palm. A burning sensation seared down his length, but it stopped a fraction of a millimeter before his opening, his urine failing to break free. “Come onnnnn….” 

This was not his first attempt at relieving himself during this ride. It was his fourth. And, each time, he grew more frustrated and agonized when his bladder refused to give up its contents. Every time he stood up and hobbled his way down here, he’d be thinking ‘It’s gotta work THIS time! I need to go SO bad, there’s no WAY it won’t come out now!’ And, every time he’d be met with cruel disappointment when the bouncing and shuddering below his feet rendered him incapable of loosening up enough to pee. 

Finally, Dwight gave up yet again, telling himself that he actually COULD hold it until they reached their destination. He zipped his pants and exited the restroom, finding Bryce standing beside the door with a confused look on his face. “The Hell were you doing in there? What was with all the muttering?” 

“I was just trying to pee…” Dwight mumbled.

“Okay…” Bryce shrugged, entering the restroom himself. 

Dwight went back to his seat and the instant he was sat beside Kenneth, he was scissoring his legs and trying to push his belt away from his swollen bladder— He’d never make it through the rest of the ride with something squishing him like that! “Nnnh…” he whimpered. 

Kenneth wore an expression that was just as confused as Bryce’s. “Dwight, what’s wrong?” 

“I really, really need to go,” Dwight informed, uncrossing his legs and then tying them back together in the opposite direction. 

“I thought you just did,” Kenneth said. 

“I didn’t,” Dwight said. “I… I can’t go when we’re moving…” he whispered. 

“Oh…” Kenneth said. “Is it because you’re scared about falling over? Why don’t you just sit down instead, then?” 

Dwight frowned, tapping a hand against one of his jiggling knees. That was such an obvious solution, he was annoyed with himself for not coming up with it sooner. “I… I didn’t think of that,” he admitted. “I’ll do that once Bryce gets back.” Dwight hoped that happened soon. His bladder was really throbbing now, as if it were trying to punish him for being too stupid to remember that he could always just sit down for a piss if he needed to. 

Pulses of need flashed and flared around his urethra, the small ring of muscles holding back his flood were shaking beneath the tremendous weight of his bladder. He gritted his teeth and hissed a pained noise out between them. 

Kenneth put a hand to his friend’s shoulder. “It’s alright, it doesn’t usually take Bryce THAT long to pee.” 

Sure enough, Bryce had returned a minute later, taking his spot across from the other two. He quirked a brow. “Smith, I thought you relieved yourself two minutes ago? Do I need to alert the medics that you are having trouble with your bla—“ 

“N—No!” Dwight insisted. “I just— Drank a lot of water, that’s all. Nothing’s wrong.” He stood eagerly, now absolutely POSITIVE that there really would be nothing wrong in a few minutes. He was definitely going to be able to pee THIS time!

The walk back TO the restroom wasn’t easy. It had grown more and more difficult through the day. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his fingers longing to curl around his dick and plug his bladder closed— He didn’t care about making his desperation obvious to the strangers on the train with him, but if Bryce saw him clutching himself and dancing like a child in front of so many on-lookers, he’d doubtlessly receive a scolding. “Smith, you are making us all look bad!” he could already hear Bryce complain. “Put your hands back by your sides! There is no need to grab yourself like that when you are so close to a toilet!” 

Dwight pushed down the aisle, his knees pinched in so close they rubbed together. Every step shook his bladder, knocking his urine up and down and sloshing it against his exhausted holding muscles. Worsening his problem, he could feel the train jolting along too, and every bump sent his bladder soaring up into his throat. 

At last, he’d made it back to the restroom door. He threw himself inside and shakily locked it with one hand while the other took apart his clothing. He pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet seat, breathing heavily with tension, need and anticipation. He HAD to go now, he just absolutely HAD to! 

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. 

Even with the danger of falling flat on his face into the toilet removed, Dwight could STILL feel the train shaking all around him. Every time he felt himself starting to go a little slack, there would be a new, harsher jolt that tightened him all the way back up again. Each time, he’d whimper and fight back a loud groan of pain. It was pure torture to repeatedly feel himself on the very brink of peeing, just for his body to take the relief away from him at the last possible second! 

“Come on…” Dwight begged quietly under his breath. “Come on… Come on… I need to go really bad!” He smoothed a hand down his lower abdomen, once more only managing to put himself in even more awful pain without coaxing out even a drop of his liquid in the process. 

“I can’t hold it…” he moaned. But, he realized that wasn’t quite the problem. The problem was instead the exact opposite; the problem was that he COULD hold it, but he just really, really didn’t want to because it hurt so badly to carry on having so much urine stored inside himself. 

He wondered if Bryce had managed to pee in here a few minutes ago. The other man had looked perfectly content when he’d returned, content enough to make fun of Dwight, even. He must have gone… What was his secret? How had HE gotten his bladder to unclench in spite of all the bounciness when Dwight couldn’t? Dwight could usually pee ANYWHERE, if anyone should be able to urinate on a train, it should have been him! This was horridly unfair! 

He tried to take some deep breaths. He was getting himself worked up. He’d never pee if he got too frustrated! 

He knew he’d now been in here far longer than a pee should ever take, and embarrassment flushed through his cheeks. Bryce was probably wondering what was taking him so long… Maybe some of the other passengers had noticed too… This must have been how Kenneth felt every time HE had trouble going, Dwight realized. This sense that everyone had picked up on how long he’d been in the restroom for, and was speculating as to what the Hell his problem was. 

If that was indeed what Kenneth thought about whenever his bladder locked up, Dwight was sure that was a good indication that it WASN’T a good thing to think about. Worrying that someone else was judging him wasn’t going to make it any easier for Dwight to pee, so he had to stop focusing on that idea. 

He knew he ought to give up and return to his seat so that Bryce didn’t yell at him, at the very least. But now, the thought of leaving this room un-relieved, trudging back to his spot with his bladder still brimming, trying to endure the rest of the ride when he felt like he was going to be ripped apart… It made him shudder. He was on the toilet, and had every intention to STAY there until he had an empty bladder. 

Yes. That was a good plan. He’d just stay here however long it took. That was much safer than returning to his seat and risking getting both it and his pants terribly wet. He knew his bladder wouldn’t last until the end of the trip, it WOULD break apart and start gushing eventually. Sooner or later, Dwight was going to be uncontrollably peeing. But, if he stayed right here on the toilet until it happened, then at least he’d be uncontrollably peeing into the right place. 

And, ohhh… That was going to feel just so wonderful… He could hardly wait for that sudden snap to come from within himself, his exhausted muscles breaking down and giving way to the torrent that had been overflowing inside him for so long… He fantasized about that until he swore he could actually feel the relief, could feel his bladder loosening and letting go— 

But then, it all stopped. Once more, his urine had very nearly released, but something had corked him shut at the last possible second and returned him to his misery. 

No matter. He’d just sit here a while longer, then. Just, however long it took for the weight inside his middle to get too heavy for him to handle. 

He adjusted his position on the seat, trying to get more comfortable. But, of course, no comfortable position existed for him anymore He was too full for any twist or turn to make him even the least bit more relaxed. And, once he’d started squirming, he couldn’t stop. He kept shifting his knees and crossing his ankles, aware of how ridiculous it all was. He was pee-dancing while sitting on a toilet with his pants around his ankles! 

He told himself to STOP all the fidgeting, his urine certainly wasn’t going to come out if he kept twitching and jiggling like he wanted it to stay in! He’d been doing such a good job of sitting still all this time, too! One little motion had been all it took to get his body writhing uncontrollably. 

“Nnnh…” Dwight whined, miserable. He couldn’t believe Kenneth felt this kind of thing every day… Just this one time was driving Dwight crazy! He just… He just had to be patient. He just had to wait. It would come out eventually. It HAD to come out eventually. 

Tap, tap, tap! 

And then there was a knock on the door, and Dwight’s squirming finally ceased as he froze up. He hadn’t exactly factored THIS possibility into his plan! But, he should have! Of COURSE someone else would need to use this toilet at some point! “J—Just a minute!” he called back. He shut his eyes tight and tried to push down on his pelvic muscles, trying to FORCE his stream to come out rather than coax his body into relaxing. 

This only made it worse, however. Tension made his spine ache, and his bladder pulse, and his pee felt even less likely to emerge than ever before. ‘Think of oceans,’ he begged himself. ‘Think of rivers. Think of… Think of how good it will feel to pee! Think of how bad you just need to let it out! Please, please, please just let me pee!’ 

Another, heavier bounce of the train made him jump, made his floodgates slam shut and LOCK painfully. 

Tap, tap, TAP!

More knocking, sounding MUCH less patient. 

“I—In a minute!” Dwight repeated. “Just—“ 

“I have a kid,” said a voice from the other side of the door. “It’s an emergency. Could you PLEASE hurry up?” 

Dwight winced. He wasn’t getting ANYWHERE. As bad as he wanted to stay and keep trying, his bladder had made it VERY clear that he was going to have to HOLD IT. And, he didn’t want to be partially responsible for a little kid having an accident, so he forced himself to stand and pull up his pants. He zipped them and washed his hands off quickly before opening the door. “S—Sorry,” he said, ducking his head and rushing back down the aisle. 

Ohhhh… This was so bad! He realized how horrible the decision he just made was the moment he’d started to walk! The pulsing need radiating in waves from beneath his buttons and zipper was beyond painful. And, to add insult to injury, when he took his seat beside Kenneth he felt the first panicked burst of urine wetting the inside of his boxers. Panicked, he tensed his thighs together and crossed his ankles, forcing the flow to stop. 

‘God dammit! Why didn’t you do that when I was on the toilet!?’ Dwight cursed his body, hands immediately tugging at his belt before he gave up and just unclasped it. 

Relief flowed over him immediately now that the tight, constricting thing was out of his way. 

Bryce watched him do this and sighed. “I know we are off duty, but you really MUST still keep your belt on.” 

Dwight shook his head back and forth frantically. It felt so much better to have it off! He couldn’t put it back on! He’d explode! He’d die!

“Ugh… Fine,” Bryce sighed. “But, when we arrive you are going to make yourself presentable.” 

Dwight nodded, and hoped he’d be able to do that. He was picturing himself forcing the belt back across his bladder, then immediately bolting through the door and to the train station’s restroom for a VERY much needed piss. Could he handle that without coming apart? 

Kenneth gave him a concerned glance. “You okay…?” he asked. 

“M—Motion sick,” Dwight said. That was… Sort of the truth. He couldn’t piss because of the motion of the train, and he was so desperate to go that he now felt nauseas. 

“Really?” Kenneth asked, surprised. Normally, it was Bryce that got ill on long train rides. Dwight’s stomach was practically made of titanium… Kenneth supposed that explained why he didn’t want to wear his belt, must not have felt good to have it pressing into his upset stomach. 

Unless, maybe he still hadn’t been able to— 

“Smith,” Bryce said. “I swear, you look like you need to piss AGAIN. Do you have the bladder of a chihuahua, or what?” 

Dwight shook his head again. “I—I’m fine!” he promised. “Just dizzy… I’m not used to being on a train for this long.” 

Bryce nodded slowly. “Oh… You know, I’ve never seen you get sick before.” 

Kenneth sighed and glared at Bryce. It sounded less like he was CONCERNED for Dwight and more like he was just interested in seeing what happened when Dwight’s stomach actually didn’t cooperate for once. 

“Well, I mean… I’ve seen you get a cold before,” Bryce added. “But, I’ve never seen you throw up. Even though you eat disgusting stuff like caramelized anchovies and—“ 

“Bryce!” Kenneth snapped. “If Dwight isn’t feeling good, you shouldn’t talk about food. Do you WANT him to get sicker?” 

“Well, no, but—“ 

“Besides, you throw up enough for ALL of us. Remember the time you vomited on The Leader’s shoes?” 

Bryce went quiet, blushing. “I— It’s not like I meant to do that…” 

They continued to sit in silence for a few minutes, Dwight resuming his squirming and bouncing. Kenneth watched him fidget and didn’t think it really LOOKED like his stomach was the issue. Bryce’s first guess— That Dwight simply had to urinate— seemed a lot more likely. So, then he HADN’T been able to use the toilet here even after sitting down? Why was he being so defensive about it with Bryce? Dwight had told Kenneth that he couldn’t pee on a moving vehicle right away, without a second thought. But he felt too embarrassed to say the very same thing to Bryce? 

Kenneth thought back to the one other time Dwight had struggled to go on a train. Kenneth had just held him and helped him relax, the same way Dwight did it for him all the time. Kenneth was sure that would work again today, but if Dwight didn’t ADMIT to the issue and ask for help… 

Kenneth just had to come up with a different way to get Dwight to come to the restroom with him; One that wouldn’t require his friend to tell Bryce something that apparently embarrassed him too greatly. 

Kenneth knew ONE way to accomplish that, but the thought was making him blush. He didn’t particularly WANT to do this when he didn’t ACTUALLY need to pee, but he couldn’t think of anything else! 

Kenneth cringed and told himself to start crossing his legs and gripping his crotch, as though he was on the edge of an accident. But, he froze as soon as he’d moved one of his feet to hook it around the other. He didn’t need to needlessly humiliate himself quite THAT much… 

He raised a hand to his mouth and chomped down on one of his knuckles. His face crumpled up with pain as his teeth sank into the sensitive skin. ‘What the— How have I never noticed how bad it hurts to DO this?!’ he thought. When he chewed his fingers because he ACTUALLY had to pee, he didn’t even FEEL it! He’d sometimes notice they were a bit sore after he’d relieved himself, but that was always it! 

A bit of dread welled inside him then as the only possible explanation dawned on him. The fullness of his bladder was generally so painful that it overpowered all other stimuli, so of course he didn’t notice that it hurt to chew his hands… 

Kenneth froze for a second, waiting for Bryce or Dwight to comment on his ‘desperation’. But, neither of them did… 

Kenneth winced. He was going to have to KEEP biting. He nibbled on his fingers, his own teeth dragging against his skin and making him start to squirm with discomfort. That was probably a GOOD thing, though. The others were more likely to figure out he ‘really, really had to pee’ if he was getting fidgety… 

Bryce glanced up for a moment, then reached to tap one of Dwight’s bouncing knees. “Uh… Smith? he said quietly. “I think Paulson… Um… Needs your assistance at the moment…” 

Dwight looked to his side, saw Kenneth chewing his hands and stomping his feet. Oh… 

Dwight didn’t WANT to do this. He didn’t want to have to take Kenneth to the restroom, try to hold still and impart ‘calm’ into him for a few minutes, then listen to him moan and moan and moan overtop the ear-splitting hiss of his stream… 

Kenneth needed him, though. Dwight wouldn’t be so cruel as to make BOTH of them suffer and hold it in just because HE couldn’t go right now. 

“O—Oh,” Dwight said. “I am sorry, Kenneth. I wasn’t paying attention… You can TELL me, you know?” 

Kenneth plucked the hand from his mouth, his fingers THROBBING. “I— I know…” he said softly. “Hurry, please?” 

Dwight forced himself to his wobbly feet. His bladder thrashed and rushed downwards. For a moment, he was hit with the insane urge to just LET it happen; To allow his pee to gush down his legs and puddle beneath his feet, a broad grin stretching across his face as the relief overpowered him. 

But, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t humiliate himself so thoroughly in public. And he also found that he STILL couldn’t actually GO. The horrid pressure wailed through him, and he felt for a moment like he was going to pee where he stood whether he wanted to or not, but then it all stopped and he was left with nothing but pain yet again. “L—Let’s go, Kenneth…” Dwight said. 

Dwight trailed behind his friend down the aisle. He was glad that Kenneth seemed to walking pretty well. He certainly must have needed the toilet badly if he was biting his fingers, but at least he hadn’t forced himself to wait until he was so full he could barely maneuver in a straight line. 

Dwight HAD waited that long though. He kept needing to pause mid stride to cross his legs and grab himself— To Hell with who saw, and to Hell with what Bryce said about it! He NEEDED the minuscule bit of relief the pressure of his palms gave him! 

They made it to the restroom door and Dwight felt sweat rush down his forehead at the sight of it, and the memory of all his failed trips here throughout the day. “G—Go in,” Dwight said. “You first, it’s a small room…” He flinched, recalling Kenneth’s claustrophobia. THAT was going to make it even HARDER for Dwight to soothe him into a state of urination… “Sorry. I’ll be right there the whole time, though.” 

“You first,” Kenneth said. 

“I know, tight spaces scare you, but YOU’RE the one that needs to be in front of the—“ 

“You need to go a LOT more than I do,” Kenneth whispered, careful not to be overheard. 

“H—Huh?” 

“You weren’t able to go earlier, I can tell,” Kenneth said. “And you’re too embarrassed to tell Bryce that for some reason, but—“ 

“I— I—“ Dwight whimpered and doubled over. “Kenneth, I feel like I’m gonna explode…” 

“I’ll help you relax,” Kenneth said. “Same as you do for me. So, you go in first… And sit down, I think you’ll be less scared of falling that way, right?” 

“Y—Yeah…” Dwight was picturing it already. Him sitting on the toilet with his pants all the way down… Kenneth rubbing him while… While looking directly into his eyes because he’d be facing forwards… “But—“ 

“I want you to feel better, there’s still about two hours left in this ride… You need to—“ 

“Okay…” Dwight said, heading in. Kenneth would realize how awkward this was gonna be for himself soon enough. 

Kenneth waited about a minute, giving Dwight time to pull his pants down and take a seat, and allowing anyone who saw Dwight enter enough time to assume he’d left before Kenneth went in.

Kenneth closed the door behind himself and locked it. Dwight was right, this room was TINY, and sharing it with another person didn’t help… He half hoped that Dwight had managed to go by himself after all so that he could leave this room, but Dwight was still seated on the toilet, squirming and looking absolutely agonized. 

“I’ll help,” Kenneth said softly, taking a tiny half step closer to him and placing his hands atop his shoulders to rub them gently. He blushed as he found himself looking Dwight in the eyes. “Eheh… Guess normally when we do this… You’re just seeing the back of my head, right?” 

Dwight was blushing furiously as well. “Y—Yeah…” 

Kenneth felt strange looking so intently at Dwight’s face as they did this. He saw a bunch of different emotions flit through his friend’s eyes, most of them filled with pain. His eyes were watery, welling up with tears. “Kenneth, I really, really have to go…” Dwight told him, for lack of anything better to say. 

“I know,” Kenneth said. “You’re just nervous right now…” He stroked Dwight some more. “Shhh…. It’s okay…” 

Dwight shifted on the seat, his bladder hurt… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed to go this badly! In the past, he always either gave up and relieved himself in the closest place that could MAYBE be considered acceptable if he squinted, or his bladder had enough and he had an accident! Having NEITHER of those things happen yet, with TWO MORE HOURS of waiting stretching out in front of him, was downright frightening. “Kenneth, I think I’m gonna die…” he said. 

“Shhh…” Kenneth gently smoothed a hand across Dwight’s chest. “It’s alright. You won’t DIE from needing to pee… Hell, I don’t think even I can die from needing to pee, and you’ve seen how bad it gets for me. You’re not THAT bad off yet. Your middle is only a tiny bit swollen, you’ll be okay.” 

Dwight knew Kenneth was trying to comfort him by saying that, but it really just made his heart clench. Dwight was in so much pain he felt like it might cause a sudden aneurism or something, yet he STILL wasn’t feeling what Kenneth felt when he was nearing the limit of what he could handle? What in the world DID it feel like when Kenneth desperately had to piss? Like being put through every single medieval torture device at once?! 

“It’s alright,” Kenneth repeated. “I promi—“ The train started to turn, and Kenneth toppled forwards so that he was now resting partially in Dwight’s lap. “Whoa! Sorry!” He started to pick himself back up again, then paused. 

He was now looking UP at Dwight’s face, at the pink flush to his cheeks and the sweat tinging his forehead… At the parting of his raw, bitten lips… “Um…” Kenneth dropped his voice to the tiniest whisper he’d ever emitted. ‘What if someone’s RIGHT on the other side of the door?!’ his fretful mind suggested. ‘Don’t!’ 

“Kenneth—“ 

“Does it… You feel relaxed when I… Kiss you, don’t you?” 

“Yes, but—“ 

That was apparently all the confirmation Kenneth needed, as he pressed their lips together for a long, deep kiss. Dwight’s eyes blew wide open at first, but after a moment he eased up, putting a hand to Kenneth’s back and drawing him closer. Slowly, Dwight’s mind turned to mush. He forgot he was half-naked, sitting on a toilet. He forgot they were technically in a public place. He forgot that there were people on the other side of that door. He forgot that he needed to piss extraordinarily badly. 

He just remembered that Kenneth was kissing him and that he loved Kenneth so, so very much… 

As Kenneth’s tongue maneuvered its way through his mouth, Dwight felt so content, so happy, so relaxed, that something inside his body gave out. His bladder split open and his stream began to hiss into the receptacle below him. His eyes opened up again with surprise, the heavy fullness he’d been carrying around all day suddenly starting to vanish, leaving just the mind-blowing feeling of his bladder shrinking and his pee jetting its way down his length. “Mmmf…” he moaned into Kenneth’s mouth, equal parts arousal and relief vying for dominance. 

Kenneth drew back for a second, “Better…?” 

“So much…” Dwight breathed, pulling Kenneth back to him and kissing him more. 

The unusualness of what they were doing finally really hit Kenneth then. They were kissing— a whole Hell of a lot— as Dwight gushed a gallon of piss into the toilet beneath him with Kenneth sitting in his lap. The frantic gushing hiss of Dwight’s relief far overpowered their gasps and heavy breathing. It was impossible to ignore what was taking place. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d kissed while one of them was urinating. Not really, Dwight had kissed the back of Kenneth’s neck gently while helping him calm down and go a few times before. This was quite a bit different, though. This time, they were putting their hands all over each other, their kisses getting heavier and heavier, and Kenneth was starting to get… God, he was getting so fucking hard right now. Once Dwight was finished, he wanted nothing more than to bend him over and fill him up, right here, the both of them being as loud as they wanted, and— 

‘Shit, shit, shit… Get a hold of yourself, Paulson.’ Kenneth scolded himself. ‘Be safe!’ 

Dwight could feel how erect Kenneth had gotten, and it was making him blush. He was sure that if he wasn’t midstream, his own dick would be as stiff as a board, too. He could feel he already had a bit of a semi, surely once his bladder was drained he’d be at full-mast if Kenneth kept this up… 

At long last, the final spurts of Dwight’s pee trickled out of him and he shuddered, unknowingly stimulating Kenneth tremendously. Kenneth moaned as Dwight shook against him, then kept resting there on his lap, drawing their lips apart. 

“I’m… I finished,” Dwight said a moment later. “All better.” 

Kenneth started to stand up, his legs practically turned to gelatin. Once on his shaking feet, he cringed at a very unpleasant sensation between his legs. It would seem he’d… It would seem he’d ‘finished’ as well… “Nnnh…” he flushed bright red. He hadn’t had… er… THIS sort of ‘accident’ since he was a teenager; and then they’d all happened in his sleep! 

He looked down, concerned something was showing on his clothes. It was hard to tell since the restroom wasn’t lit that well. He’d keep his hands folded over his lap for the rest of the ride. Just to be safe. 

At lease his cock wasn’t hard as diamond anymore… 

“Th—That’s good,” Kenneth said softly, clasping his hands in front of himself already. “Now, I will leave first. You wait a few minutes before you come out, so it doesn’t look like we were in here togeth—“ 

“Kenneth, do you actually have to go, too?” Dwight asked, nodding to the position of Kenneth’s hands, directly in front of his crotch. 

“Nnnnope,” Kenneth said. “I… Uh… I… Had… I… Maybe… I… Kind of…” 

Dwight turned scarlet. “Kenneth, er… Did you—“ 

“Yes,” Kenneth said quickly, turning to leave. “I… I’ll return the favor to you tonight, alright?” 

“Th—That’s fine with me,” Dwight said. 

Kenneth left the restroom and anxiously ran back to his seat, keeping his hands folded atop his lap as soon as he got there. 

Bryce looked up, seeing Kenneth red in the face, covered in sweat and panting heavily. He stared for a moment, there was something about the flush in his cheeks that made Bryce start blushing too. “Holy fuck, Paulson,” he mumbled. “You look like Hell… How bad did you have to take a freaking piss?” 

Kenneth looked out the window anxiously. “Really, REALLY bad…” he mumbled. 

Dwight came back a minute later. Bryce smiled when he saw he had his belt re-clasped now… But, he TOO was pretty red in the cheeks. And again, for some reason Bryce couldn’t help but blush at the sight.

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