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I have a rather unhealthy obsession with Deamus. They're so perfect together it almost hurts. One of my friends sent me a link to a "kinkfest" (I'm not into that, but she had no way of knowing), and one of the prompts was that someone wet themselves from being tickled. So this happened. It's not exactly like the prompt, but I like where it wound up. I hope you guys enjoy! —————————— Seamus lay on his side on his bed, doing his best to hold still as he posed for Dean. Dean had asked him to model today; he wanted to practice drawing people, and he said Seamus was the best subject. Seamus was proud to be Dean’s model, but he had been laying there for what must have been hours already. He was dead bored. And he really had to pee. “Dean,” Seamus whined, stretching his name out as if it had five syllables. “When will ye be done?” Dean grinned. “Eventually.” “C’mon, Dean, hurry up, will ye?” “It’d be easier to work if you’d quit fidgeting, Shay.” Dean raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Can’t help it,” Seamus muttered. “I really gotta take a leak.” A wicked glint entered Dean’s eyes. “Sorry, but you’ll have to hold it. I’m at a very crucial point right now; if you move, it’ll mess up the whole ambience.” “Ambience?” Seamus raised an eyebrow. “Is that even a thing in drawin’?” “Of course it is, Shay. Now shut up.” Seamus glared at Dean for a moment, but kept his mouth shut. The dormitory remained quiet for quite a long time. With every second that passed, Seamus felt like his bladder was filling up more and more. It felt like it was too full, in fact, and that the muscle was stretching beyond its capabilities. The more time he spent waiting for Dean to finish, the more desperate he became. He may have been in dire need of the loo, but Seamus still thought he had enough control to wait until Dean was finished. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer now. Then, quite suddenly, a spasm rocked through his lower abdomen. He clenched down on his muscles, just barely managing to stop the pee that so desperately had tried to escape. Surreptitiously, he tried inching his left hand toward his crotch to give it a squeeze. “Don’t move, Shay!” Dean ordered. Seamus’s hand snapped back to its place on his left hip. But he couldn’t hold still for very long. That moment of intense desperation had wreaked havoc on his control. He could feel the pee hovering right at the edge of his member, just waiting for permission to release. Seamus began jiggling his left leg restlessly. “Seamus, stop!” “Jaysus, Dean, I need to pee! Just let me go to the loo, I won’t take long!” “No, Shay. Stay still. I’m almost done.” Seamus groaned loudly. “I’m seriously ‘bout to pee myself over here. I really can’t wait much longer.” He felt so ashamed at saying it, but he had to convey the gravity of his situation. Dean rolled his eyes. “God, Shay. You’re being such a baby right now.” “Shut it, Dean. Yeh’re not the one who’s been layin’ here fer hours now.” “Hours? You’ve been there for forty-five minutes.” Dean stood up and placed his sketchpad and pencil down on the chair where he’d been sitting. “You must’ve needed to pee before we started. You probably did it on purpose to get out of modeling for me.” “No, Dean, I swear it’s not like that!” Seamus protested. “I’d never do that to ye, I promise!” “I know, I was just messing with you,” Dean replied, smirking. Seamus sighed in relief and relaxed; a burst of hot pee dampened his briefs until he clamped down on his muscles once again. He glanced down at his crotch and was grateful to see that there was no visible wet spot. “Can I go to the loo now?” he asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. If he was completely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he’d even manage to stand up with out completely pissing himself. It was unfairly embarrassing. Dean tilted his head to the side and looked at him contemplatively for a moment. “No.” And then he jumped onto Seamus’s bed and began tickling him fiercely. Seamus squirmed and tried to get away from Dean’s agile fingers, all the while laughing. Another spurt of pee warmed his briefs, quickly followed by another, longer one. He was sure to have a large wet patch on his jeans now. “Dean, stop, please!” Seamus begged. “I’m really gonna piss myself. Stop!” “You’re just a sore loser,” Dean taunted. “Dean!” Seamus wriggled for all he was worth, but the constant movement and laughter only caused his over-full bladder more undue stress. He lost all control over his muscles for the most terrifying five seconds of his life. He felt completely soaked and more than a little mortified. He’d never be able to hide this from Dean. Never. And then, as suddenly as Dean’s tickling onslaught had begun, it ended. Seamus lay on his back, panting and trying for all he was worth to keep the rest of his pee in. He thought he was doing a pretty good job, too. But Dean was looking down at him with an inscrutable look on his face. It sent tingles down Seamus’s spine—and another gush of pee into his briefs. And then Dean had swooped down and was kissing him. Seamus sighed; he’d fancied Dean for as long as he could remember but kept it hidden for quite obvious reasons. Kissing him now was more than he’d ever dared to dream for. Seamus wound his arms around Dean’s neck, and Dean slipped his tongue inside Seamus’s mouth. The sensations tearing through Seamus were too intense, too mind-blowing. He was so thoroughly distracted by Dean’s kiss that he completely forgot about his other predicament. And then his protesting bladder had decided for him. Seamus began peeing forcefully through his jeans. It took him several seconds to realize that his bladder was voiding itself, but by then it was too late to stop. He groaned in horror. He'd finally gotten a kiss from Dean, and now he was going to lose everything. “Dean, I—“ “Shut up and kiss me, Shay,” Dean murmured. He hadn’t even flinched at the wetness that was surely spreading through his jeans now, too. “But Dean—“ He was cut off by another kiss, and he was still vehemently peeing his pants. Maybe another thirty seconds passed while Seamus continued to pee all over himself, Dean, and the bed. When his bladder was finally, finally empty, he squirmed a bit uncomfortably. His pants were very damp and were growing clammy. It was not a pleasant sensation. At least, it wasn’t until his crotch began to feel warm again. Seamus was utterly confused, thinking that he’d somehow managed to begin peeing again, even though there was a distinct hollowness where he was certain his bladder used to reside. Dean pulled away slightly, and it was then that Seamus realized he wasn’t peeing, but being peed on. Dean was pissing his pants now. Seamus stared at his best friend for the longest minute of his life as pee soaked through his jeans—pee that was not his own. For his part, Dean just stared at the place where pee was pouring from his own pants. They had become so soaked that they couldn’t hold any more liquid, apparently, and the stream exiting Dean’s body looked something like the flow from a hose. When Dean finally finished peeing on Seamus, he looked up. Seamus continued to stare at him, wide-eyed. “What?” Dean asked, sounding somewhat defensive. “Y-ye just…” Seamus trailed off, unable to find words. “Yeah, well, so did you,” Dean said. “But why?” Seamus managed to force out. Dean shrugged, somewhat uncomfortable. “I sometimes do this thing where I hold in my pee all day, or as long as I can. I really needed a piss just now, y’know?” Seamus nodded, but he didn’t completely understand. “Why did ye make me piss mine?” “I dunno. I thought that maybe if you liked it, too, I wouldn’t feel so…depraved.” Oh. Seamus shrugged. “Well, I guess the adrenaline rush was pretty intense,” he conceded. “But how am I supposed to know if I like it if ye force me to do it?” Dean looked beyond shocked. “Do you mean to tell me that if I’d told you about this, you might’ve tried it willingly?” “Dunno, but it’s me we’re talkin’ about. Nothin’s impossible, Dean.” “Do…do you think maybe you’d want to do this with me tomorrow?” Dean asked hesitantly. Seamus grinned. “Only if ye promise to kiss me like that again.”
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