!!!SMUT CHAPTER!!!
kink: watersports/omorashi
ship: Elijah X Awsten
Don't judge me okay
I also wrote this in a rush so there may be grammatical errors and all that,,, so yeah, I apologise lol
🌠🌠🌠
A wave of humiliation overcame Awsten as he stood awkwardly at the bathroom door, the pressure building in his lower abdomen at an alarming rate. His legs were shaking, his hands were plastered around his crotch, and he had to bite into his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out. Worry filled up his head on exactly how he was going to deal with this whole situation.
He had to pee. So badly.
Like, so badly that the idea of holding on for any amount of time longer just seemed impossible to him.
He started feeling the urge to empty a few hours ago, but with the need of having to attend three skype meetings in a row, he pushed those thoughts of relief down. It wasn't that hard if he was being honest. During Warped Tours, he wouldn't 'go' until the very last moment, leading to an alarming amount of close calls. For two of the meetings, the urge only came up a few times, and every time it did so, he was able to quickly ignore it.
The true, horrible, painful desperation only sunk in half an hour ago, right as the last meeting of the day was finishing up. One of the managers of his studio was speaking about something or other when he felt it; a sharp cramp in his low, low abdomen. It felt as if somebody was tugging away at the fibres of his muscles, pulling them up and through his skin.
It hurt.
And it was too strong to ignore this time around.
He was still too scared to get up and leave. All he could do was cross his legs and try his hardest to suppress any signs of discomfort. Part of his brain scolded him for being such a baby about it all, logically he knew that would let him go if he asked. Fuck! He wouldn't even have to properly ask, he would just say that he was 'going to the bathroom' and leave. That was it!
As the manager spoke, Awsten tried his best to listen to the words. Yet the throbs his bladder was sending throughout his entire nervous system made that task impossible. He couldn't focus on those words slightest. The meeting wasn't discussing hyper-important things, so he wasn't all that worried about missing out on vital information, but it was still stuff that he should be paying attention too nonetheless.
Yet his anxieties got to the better of him. He had to piss, he was holding it in for a dangerous length of time, and now he couldn't even pay attention because of the whole situation.
"Okay, well, I-I think we can call that a wrap!"
Thank fuck. Awsten thought.
"Awsten? Do y'think you'll be available for Tuesday?"
He froze. He was already hovering above his chair, hands on the table, beads of sweat poking out of his forehead.
"U-Uh s-sure-" He stuttered out.
Fuck! Let me go!
Another ten minutes of painful small-talk occurred. Awsten was still hovering above his seat on the verge of fucking bawling his eyes out at how desperate he had become. His brain was torturing him by flashing images of himself standing at the toilet and sighing happily as he started to relieve himself.
He felt a tiny, absolutely tiny, wet patch drip onto the front of his boxers. The depleting energy stores meant that he couldn't hold back the low-scale whine that came out. Nobody else within the conference call seemed to notice it, but that still didn't take away the fact that Awsten was becoming horribly desperate.
