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They’re getting ready to drive back from camping at Lake Pleasant just outside Phoenix when Timmy notices Armie is keeping himself very well hydrated. It’s a long drive, roughly six hours, but thankfully a straight shot out US-10. Armie makes it a point to finish his coffee, his Coke, and fill the giant hydro flask he’s taken to toting around with fresh water. Timmy slips off to the bathroom before they get on the road while Armie gases their truck.
When Timmy climbs up into the passenger seat, Armie’s already buckled in, shooting Nick a text for when they’ll be back, making plans for dinner later. It posts on their group chat and Timmy takes up his position as navigator and evening planner.
“Ready?” Armie asks, looking up with a smile and Timmy can’t help but lean over, kiss his cheek before he puts his seatbelt on.
“Ready.” And with that, they’re on the road. Timmy doesn’t bring up the hydro flask Armie’s slowly nursing to empty. He knows what Armie’s doing, even if the man can’t bring himself to actually announce that’s what he’s doing.
***
It had been late afternoon in Italy, Armie resting quietly in the grass beside him at the Villa. They were in costume, but Luca was rearranging a room and looking for a certain lighting so they had a little downtime. Curled up against Armie’s side, running his fingers over Armie’s furred chest, scratching along his belly, he came closer and closer to the waistband of those dangerously short shorts with every pass. But just when he was about to slide his hand in, pressing lightly on Armie’s low belly to sneak his fingers under the waistband, Armie hissed.
“Are you okay?” He stopped immediately, worried he’d hurt Armie. They’d touched each other plenty of times between takes, the crew knowing to stay far away if they even thought they saw a hand down pants, or one had the other’s head “resting” in his lap. They were always quick and it built up their intimacy on screen, their desire for each other.
To his shock, Armie had blushed, nodded.
“Yeah, um. It’s dumb, just…” He seemed to be struggling for words and Tim shifted beside him, kneeling up to look at him with concern.
“It’s not dumb. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you feel like you can’t share right now, but I promise whatever it is, I don’t think it’s dumb.” Armie’s cheeks went a darker red.
“Do you remember filming the “traitor” scene when I come in and piss, let you hear and watch, then shut the door?”
“Yeah.” Timmy nods, trying to figure out what Armie’s trying to say.
***
Everything had been set up but a sudden passing downpour shuttered their attempt for at least a good twenty minutes. Luca wanted the sky clear, or at the very least most definitely not raining. So Timmy had shuffled his feet and gone to find Armie lingering in the hallway, looking out the window with pursed lips and his brow wrinkled like something was bothering him.
Timmy had wordlessly approached, bumping his head against Armie’s shoulder, relieved to see his dear friend and new lover smile at him, even if his brow didn’t untwist.
“What’s wrong? Are you doing okay?” Timmy was worried. Armie was so professional, so calm, so steady in his presence that seeing him tucked away tense and hiding just felt weird.
“Yeah, just didn’t expect the rain. Like everyone else.” He tried to play it off with an easy shrug but there was something to his tone. Like there was something he needed to say but couldn’t find the way to. Timmy hadn’t had much practice deciphering Armie-speak at that point. Armie had always said that Tim could read exactly what’s on his mind though.
“Hopefully it won’t last long, it’s not a long scene. Just me at my desk, then you come in and pee...oh.” Armie’s tense posture suddenly made sense. His expression was equal parts embarrassment and a deep gratitude that Timmy had figured it out without making him say anything. “Um, depending on how long it takes for the rain to pass, maybe you can piss and then have a bunch of water so you can pee again when it’s time for the scene?” Timmy rambled, trying to find a solution and Armie ruffled his hair, tugged him close.
“Mussolinni’s banned me from the bathroom. Something about being a grown man and controlling myself. Whatever, he gets cranky when he has to rearrange things.” Armie says it with easy affection that Timmy knows he means, but it doesn’t do anything about the fact that Armie still has a full bladder.
They folks from production had offered Armie a weird sort of water bag with a hose attachment for under his pants if he didn’t feel comfortable urinating on demand but Armie had shrugged it away. Everything else was so authentic, why fake peeing? It wasn’t like the cameras could see anything and if he was worried about stage fright, he could just have a little extra wine at dinner.
Timmy could see Armie’s sound reasoning in that but his leg was bouncing lightly and Timmy knew from his own behaviors, he only did that if he really had to go.
“Can I tell you something...really weird? Maybe kind of sick. No, definitely sick. Nevermi--”
“No!” Timmy cuts him off. There’s no one in the hallway but the two of them as the rain continues to pelt against the window. Timmy feels a mildly sympathetic ache in his own bladder just watching the raindrops run down the glass. He admires Armie’s control, his poise. If it were Timmy holding it for a scene and being forced to see that, he’d definitely be potty dancing. “You can always tell me anything.”
Armie gave him a small smile and Tim curled himself into Armie’s side, hoping his physical presence at least would be a comfort.
“So, sometimes...you know when you’ve really, really had to pee and there’s just nowhere to go?” Timmy nods along, watching Armie’s cheeks gradually get pinker. “But then you finally get to a bathroom and just getting to take a piss feels so good?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Timmy had known the feeling several times, stuck on the subway after a night with friends. Even if he was technically underage, his friends still snuck him drinks. By the time he’d finally made it to his stop, even if it meant having to pee in the closest alley he could find, it was just so... good to relax and let it go. “Sometimes I get that after I’ve been out with friends. It feels just so…” Timmy struggles to find the word but Armie just smiles gently at him as if grateful he understands.
“I know. Well, sometimes, not very often mind you. I may kind of like to--”
“The rain’s letting up. Let’s work through blocking one more time!” Luca comes into the hallway, a flurry of energy and Armie withdraws his arm.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Later never came. Timmy did his best to focus when the actual filming of the scene came. He had one shot to do it right but he also didn’t want to delay Armie’s relief any more.
The scene went smoothly, Timmy “waking” from his desk dozing and scrambling into bed when he hears “Oliver” come home.
He tries not to, but when he hears the clink of the belt, the tug of the zipper, he can’t help listening, his ears filling almost immediately with a fucking torrent of piss thundering into the toilet. By the time Armie’s done, he’s more than half hard and blushing under his makeup.
When Luca calls cut, he promptly follows it with praise.
“Perfect, absolutely perfect. Armie, mio caro, I’m sorry if I was harsh on you, are you alright?” Armie brushes the concern away.
“Everything worked out.” They review, chat, plan for tomorrow, and then it’s time to go home.
It’s become routine that the car that carries them from the villa into the city doesn’t take them already home, knowing it’s an important part of their evening wind down to walk and talk about their day.
When the car lets them out tonight, they walk hand in hand, smelling the lingering kiss of rain and the fresh earth around them.
Armie doesn’t bring up their earlier conversation and Timmy doesn’t force it. Their silence is easy and companionable. Halfway home, Armie laces their fingers together.
***
“What about that scene?” Timmy prods lightly and Armie sighs heavily, unable to meet his eyes.
“I never finished telling you about that...this fucked up thing about me.”
“I’m willing to listen now.” Timmy murmurs, cuddling closer, avoiding Armie’s apparently tender pelvic region.
“So, we talked about how it feels really good to take a piss when you’ve been waiting. Well, um. Sometimes, I like to hold it. I’ll...wait till I really have to take a piss before I go to the bathroom. Because letting go just feels so good and um, for some really weird reason I getreallyhornyafterI’vepissed.” Armie gets out in a rush. Timmy takes a moment to process but smiles at him gently.
“That’s not fucked up or sick. It feels good to you, and because you’re doing something that feels good, of course your dick’s gonna get hard.” Timmy shrugs and Armie looks equal parts relieved and worried.
“But like, it’s not even just the pissing. It’s about being able to control myself, the waiting, the building pressure, the need to be calm in a panic situation. It’s like I’m playing a game till I’m on the verge of wetting my pants and I come like a fucking freight train every time I’m playing these little...stupid...hold-it games.” Armie’s fucking scarlet by the time he’s done talking. “It’s gross, right?”
Timmy shrugs, shakes his head.
“Not really. The human body does weirder things than pee. Isn’t it mostly water anyway? And as long as you’re not bothering anyone else, I don’t see a problem with you, uh, holding it just because.” Timmy fumbles through but Armie finally looks at him, makes eye contact, Timmy holding it as he leans in to kiss him. “Is that um, what’s going on now?” Armie nods, reaches down, gently tugs his shorts down. The muscles that lead down to his groin are so typically flat so Timmy’s surprised to see a gentle curve sitting in the cradle of his pelvis. “Is that your bladder?” He reaches out, almost as if to cup it gently and Armie hisses lightly when he makes contact, relaxing into the touch.
“Yeah, I’m starting to get a little desperate. Trying to think where I can pee. I’m also kind of weird about that. It’s like I’m an exhibitionist, I want to risk somebody coming by and seeing me lose control and be pissing somewhere that I’m maybe not supposed to pee, just because I can’t help myself, you know?”
“You’re not like an exhibitionist, you are an exhibitionist.” Timmy smirks, watching Armie roll his eyes. Armie made it a point to fuck in front of the open windows of his apartment at least twice a week, once usually during the hour between church and lunch on Sundays. The number of outrageous places Armie has made Timmy blow his load on set is also approaching an embarrassing number. “So you wanna pee somewhere naughty?”
“Maybe.” Armie’s voice is shy but also a little hopeful, like he’s so happy that Timmy understands his kink at least enough to support it, if not indulge in it. Timmy smiles, kisses him softly, keeps his hand steady on the swollen roundness under his hand as Armie’s legs squirm and wiggle. His little shorts are doing absolutely nothing to hide how hard his cock is getting and when Timmy reaches down to stroke him, Armie hisses but let’s out the sexiest little broken moan. “God, that feels so good. I’ve never...with somebody else.”
“First time for everything. And we’ll figure it out together.” Armie had guided him through so many new sexual experiences, helping Armie explore something he’d obviously enjoyed for some time is exciting and humbling. Armie trusts him so much. And he can’t deny that watching Armie, usually so graceful and steady, turn into a squirmy, anxious child wasn’t really hot. “Plus, um. I may have gotten a boner listening to you piss the night of that scene.”
Armie fucking whimpers at his confession and rolls onto his side, pulls Timmy close to kiss him fiercely. His hips are pressing close to Timmy’s rubbing their hard cocks together through the layers of their shorts. It’s still electric and Timmy gives into the kiss, let’s Armie moan and grind against him, hands sliding up into his honey brown-blonde hair, tugging in a way that always makes Armie shiver.
“Mmm.” Armie makes a tight noise and pulls back. “I think I can hold it a little longer, but I don’t know how much time we’ll have before we get caught.” Timmy feels Armie’s hand squirm between them, making its way to his groin and Timmy gently stops him, slides his hand down, into Armie’s shorts and gives his half-hard cock a firm squeeze, pressing his thumb over the slit on the already damp head. “Oh Tim, yesss.” Armie’s head falls into the grass and he sighs, his hips settling a little with Timmy’s firm hold on his penis.
Timmy half sits up and looks around. They’re a decent distance from the villa, lying at the top of the hill leading down towards the surrounding trees and he can just barely hear the steady buzz of activity that indicates they’re still not quite ready for their leading men. They were partway behind a low bush and between that cover and the shade of the tree, he had an idea.
“Do it here.” Armie’s eyes snap to him, looking shocked, but the way his cock stiffens in Timmy’s hand confirms just how much Armie likes the idea. “Here, I’ll help you.” Timmy lies back down beside him, gently encouraging him to roll over so he’s facing downhill. “None of it will come back to us, it’ll just disappear into the grass down the hill.” He rests his head on Armie’s shoulder, curled protectively around the older man’s back. Letting go of Armie’s cock, he reaches for the waistband of his shorts, carefully pulling it down this time, Armie’s hand slipping down to guide his hard cock out of his shorts, Timmy securing the waistband behind his full, heavy balls. “There we go. Can you piss when you’re hard?” Timmy had mixed success with that practice himself but Armie made a soft noise in the affirmative. “So let it out. I wanna watch you piss.”
“Oh God, Timmy.” Armie shivered but his hand fell into place, not particularly aiming his cock as if he were pissing in a toilet or urinal, but just guiding it in the general direction he wanted his stream to go in, out and away from them. “Oh.” The most tender little gasp and Timmy couldn’t contain a moan when the steady golden flow began pouring from Armie’s cock. Timmy could feel his lover’s whole body go slack with relief, watching his beautiful blue eyes close in bliss. “God, yes, yes…”
“That’s it. That’s a...that’s a good boy.” Timmy carefully tried out the praise and Armie whimpered, his cock twitching, sending his stream arcing a couple times. It prompts Timmy to reach down, wrapping his hand gently around Armie’s cock. It’s like he can feel Armie’s piss rushing through it to escape his body. It’s a shocking level of intimacy, and before he knows it, he’s gasping, moaning, and coming in his underwear, right where he’s pressed against Armie’s back.
“Did you just…?” Armie’s stream peters off into a lighter flow, then a few long dribbles and spurts. Timmy isn’t quite sure what to do with how expressive Armie’s face is at that moment. Surprise, but also so much love and a sense of almost reverence, like Armie’s wondering how this can all be real and not just a wonderful dream.
Timmy’s initial response is just to nod, feeling his cheeks heat as Armie rolls back, Timmy carefully sliding out from under him and letting the blonde wrap an arm around his back.
“Jesus, that’s so hot, Timmy. I can’t believe it, did you actually like...doing that with...me?” Armie sounds so hopeful and so scared at the same time. Timmy immediately kisses him.
“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my life.” And before Armie can protest, he slides down, guiding the still wet tip of Armie’s cock into his mouth.
“Oh, Tim, no, I’m still wet, you don’t need to do that.” Armie squirms up onto his elbows, looking mortified. But he can’t hide the arousal in his eyes or the flush in his cheeks. Or the way his cock is twitching against Timmy’s tongue as he gently suckles the last few lingering drops from Armie’s skin and slit. It doesn’t taste bad. Kind of salty, a little bitter, but knowing what it is and where it came from, his cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again in his soiled underwear.
“It’s really not bad, Armie.” He picks his head up to give Armie a reassuring smile. “Now relax because I really want to suck your dick.” Armie snorts and a genuine smile, no fear or worry on his face as he drops back into the grass.
“Okay, okay.” And Timmy happily goes back to work, licking, sucking, kissing, teasing until Armie grunts and his hips buck and he’s got a mouthful of thick, delicious semen.
***
When they had gotten home to the apartment, full of good food and a lot of wine, Timmy had started gently teasing him.
“So, is it just holding it and then pissing somewhere naughty, or do you want me to piss on you?” Armie’s cheeks immediately flush bright red and he’s not subtle at all when he drags a couch cushion over his lap. He looks more embarrassed than anything, but Timmy can also still detect a tiny bit of hope.
“Do you want to piss on me?” Same blush, the tiniest nod following. “So we want to piss on each other. Do you want to do it in the shower, or near the river, or just anywhere we can clean up?”
“Um, probably all of those.” Armie manages to get out, glancing nervously at Timmy who only gives him a gentle smile and cuddles close.
“That sounds good to me. Is there something else you want?” Armie looks away and Timmy’s tempted not to push but he also wants to share a fantasy that had sprung into bed when Armie had taken him out back between dinner and dessert at Luca’s and as soon as they found a patch of yard the moon didn’t illuminate, pulled Timmy into the grass with frantic kisses and fucked him deep, passionate, only coming in Timmy after milking not one but two orgasms out of his young lover.
“Can I share something I want?” Timmy asks lightly, looking up at Armie who nods a little, still looking shocked that Timmy would want anything to do with piss play. “I thought of you fucking me, and when you’re done, if your bladder’s full because we’ve been going at it for a while, you don’t have to pull out and you can just piss in me.”
Armie’s head fell back with a moan and he was practically humping the pillow he was using to “hide” his erection.
“That’s so fucking hot, Timmy. I’d do that for you any day.” Armie licks his lips. His eyes are almost glassy but when he turns to look Timmy in the face, his eyes clear. “Are you sure you want to do this kind of stuff with me?”
Timmy wants to roll his eyes and poke but Armie’s obviously still nervous about sharing exactly what he wants so he just nods, cuddles close, keeps eye contact as he rests his chin against Armie’s bicep.
“I never knew I had a piss kink before today, but it really was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. And if there’s anyone I want to explore this with, it would be you.”
Armie hadn’t quite teared up but he’d scooped Timmy into his arms and hidden his face against his younger lover’s chest, held him tight until he felt ready to scoop him up and carry him into bed.
***
The first few hours of the drive pass quickly. Even years after Crema, and deeply into them being together as a couple, Timmy loved that at the core of it, they were also still such good friends. Their companionship was easy and the conversation still flowed as naturally as ever. Admiring the mountains, the deserts they passed through, the different species of flora and cacti. Debating with their friends via Timmy’s presence in the group text about whether they were leaning towards fresh vegetable lasagna and homemade meatballs at Nick’s, or barbeque ribs and all the usual cookout faire at Ash’s.
They’re leaning towards Ash’s based on the beautiful late spring weather and once that decision is made, Nick shoots him a text outside the group chat, letting him know that he’ll still make the lasagna and sneak it into their car because he knows how much Armie eats, and how much Armie loves his cooking. They both do really; it reminds them of being in Crema.
They talk about their next projects, maybe both of them spending some time on Broadway, at the same time this go round. Timmy blasts rap in English and French, but throws in some remixes and even just softer things from artists they’re both fond of. They just fit together, smiling almost the whole way through the desert.
When they’re still about 20 minutes outside San Bernardino, Timmy really needs to pee. Armie, he can tell, is playing one of his holding games ( not before I’m down to a quarter tank of gas! ) and is starting to show signs of needing to go, but Timmy isn’t up to waiting today.
“Um, is there anyway we can pull over? I’ve gotta pee.” Armie immediately nods and the next good patch of shoulder they see, Armie guides the truck off the edge of the road. “Thank you.”
“Don’t even worry about it.” Armie shrugs lightly with a genuine, warm smile. “I should stretch a little anyways.”
As soon as Timmy’s hopped out of the truck, he uses the bulk of the truck to block him as he undoes his jeans, taking his cock out, relaxing his pelvic muscles and letting his urine flow out of him with a sigh. They still play plenty of their games, but obviously not every time they pee is some erotic experience. He does enjoy not having to think about his aim as much when he pisses outside though.
***
“So, what I want is...you know what, nevermind. It’s gross.” Armie shakes his head. Production is rained out today. There have been tiny breaks in the showers that have allowed them to make a quick run to the grocery store, comfort food and wine aplenty now stocked in their kitchen.
“It’s not gross. Whatever it is you want.” Timmy’s still curious about their discovery last week. Since their discussion, he’s peed on Armie a couple times, once in shower and the other sitting in his lap when they filmed at Lake Garda, their boxers wet from the swimming scene. Both time’s Armie had come nearly immediately after Timmy touched him, so he counted those as successes.
Armie had been a little bit more shy to initiate, but one morning, Tim was brushing his teeth, naked after his shower and Armie had ambled into the bathroom, yawning before casting an appraising look at Timmy’s body. Timmy had caught the look in the mirror, smiled, wiggled his ass at Armie, who promptly slapped his right buttcheek, echoing off the tiles of the crowded bathroom and drawing a moan out of Timmy. He’d never liked being spanked before but when he got a hard-on the first time Armie had slapped his ass in passing, over their clothes, it took no time for Armie to figure it out.
“Good morning.” Armie’s voice is still sleep thick and husky, sending shivers down his spine when his lover boxes him in against the counter, using his size to pin Timmy, hips grinding slow and steady, his morning wood sliding against and between the seam of his ass before sliding down, Armie slicking his erection a little from a bottle of unscented massage oil on the counter. It then nudged between Timmy’s legs, sliding along his crack, across his taint, his balls in slow, steady thrusts.
Timmy had been about to shiver, beg Armie to fuck him, when Armie paused his thrusting, the head of his cock just nudging his taint, and a hot flow of liquid immediately began coursing up slightly, over the base of his cock and balls before running down his legs.
“Oh Armie.” Timmy had shivered, had to lean into him for support from the rush of blood south, his toothbrush clattering to the counter, forgotten as Armie emptied his full bladder against his skin.
They’d had some phenomenal shower sex that morning.
“I feel like you’ll think it’s gross once you hear what it is.” Armie’s voice was low and he wasn’t meeting Timmy’s eyes.
“If it makes me uncomfortable, then I’ll tell you and we won’t do it. But it may be something I think is hot too.” Timmy encourages lightly, finding Armie’s hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. A smile flickered across Armie’s lips but he kept his head down as he started to speak.
“I have this...fantasy. Where I’m playing with myself, trying to hold my piss but I miscalculate and when I get desperate, there’s absolutely nowhere to go. And you, um. You let me…” He mumbles something that Timmy can’t quite hear.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t hear the last part.” Armie’s face is as red as he’s even seen it and Timmy watches him take a long, slow breath.
“I um...would you, maybe, if I drank a lot of water first so it’s, y’know, not like, really strong, um...would you ever be willing to let me uh...piss in your mouth?”
“Fuck yeah.” Timmy leans in when Armie’s head pops up with a shocked expression and kisses him, hard but loving. “It really didn’t taste that bad last week and that sounds really hot.”
They hadn’t discussed it anymore, but Armie had rolled them over and made deep, satisfying love to him for the rest of the afternoon.
***
When Timmy’s done peeing and tucks himself away, he looks over to where Armie is stretching his arms up, and bending down to loosen his back before walking back and forth a few times. As soon as he spots Timmy peeping around the door, his face lights up in a smile.
“Ready?” Timmy grins back and nods.
“I love that you still light up when you see me.” Timmy confesses when they’re back in the truck. Armie’s eyes are so soft and loving as he leans in, cups Timmy’s face in those big, strong hands, his lips so very gentle.
“I want to look at you like that for the rest of my life. You make me so happy, Tim.” Timmy can feel his cheeks heat and they trade a few more soft kisses.
“You make me happy too. More than anything.” Tim returns and Armie rests their foreheads together, a few seconds of understanding eye contact before pressing a kiss to Timmy’s head and settling back into the driver’s seat.
“LA here we come.”
***
They’re a little quieter after their tender exchange but the stretches of silence aren’t uncomfortable. They’re never unwelcome in the other’s presence.
Timmy watches Armie though. His left leg occasionally taps, bounces, and the way he’s clenching his thighs more and more frequently gives away his filling bladder. Timmy knows that Armie has one hell of a bladder capacity, and excellent control over it from years of occasionally playing these games with himself. But he also internally compares the size of Armie’s oversized hydro flask (which the man himself is currently finishing sucking it dry) to the cradle of Armie’s pelvis and how he looks when he’s really full, that swollen little roundness under the muscles that lead down to his groin.
There has to be a limit to what he can hold somewhere. He’s seen Armie wet on purpose when they’ve been playing, drenching his jeans or slacks, even the bed when the mood strikes, but he’s never seen him truly lose control and have an accident.
Armie’s brow is furrowed, shifting his weight and squirming as much as he can while driving. Timmy’s seen him get really desperate, enough that when they got home, if it was under the cover of night, he’d be out of the car as soon as it’s in park, not even taking the keys as he dashed behind the bushes in their front garden.
He’s seen Armie fill a Gatorade bottle just off the edge of a stage. That hadn’t been an intentional hold, just too much water before his Saturday matinee but between scene changes, he had managed to communicate to an extra that he just couldn’t wait till intermission.
Someone had found a liter Gatorade bottle and Timmy had stood just out of the audience’s sight, ready to use his body to shield his boyfriend from prying eyes backstage. Another character thankfully had a monologue coming up and as soon as Armie had gotten out the last line before it, he had snuck offstage, barely out of sight and frantically undoing his pants.
Thank God they had cut sound to Armie’s mic for a moment because Timmy almost dropped the bottle from the force of the stream that erupted from Armie’s dick.
He had filled it to the very top, cutting himself off with a grimace. Timmy could tell that he’d mostly emptied his bladder, but there was simply no more room in the bottle, and no time before Armie had to be back onstage. Timmy carefully put a lid on the bottle as Armie fixed his pants and slipped back into his position onstage.
All his cues are starting to show though. The way his scowl slips from frustrated to almost anxious, the way he licks his lips, presses them together, chews on the bottom one, a habit he picked up from Timmy himself. His hands tight on the steering wheel, knuckles pale and flexing occasionally.
They’re starting to hit traffic so Armie’s squirming and bouncing dies off because he needs his focus on the road and his foot on the pedals at the appropriate times. But the way his thighs are locked together gives him away.
“How are you doing?” Tim asks softly, gently laying a hand on Armie’s tight thigh.
“I may be pushing it just a little too much this time.” Armie’s voice is tight and Timmy winces in sympathy. If Armie’s admitting he’s overdone it, then he must be ready to explode.
“Do you want to…?” Timmy trails off, spots Armie’s hydro flask.
“No. I’m not pissing in that. I’d have to get a new one and that one has some really rare stickers on it.” Armie’s practically pouting but Timmy can feel the way his thigh is trembling under his touch.
“Is there a bottle somewhere?” Timmy knows probably not, they made a point to keep the car clean this time.
“No. And just, stop talking about it, please?” Armie’s voice is tight and Timmy is immediately worried. Armie usually keeps him in the loop of how he’s doing, letting Timmy know exactly how bad he needs to go. But if Armie can’t do that, he finds himself casting a worried glance at Armie’s groin. No wetness to see, but the little rocking in his hips is so persistent, despite Armie’s effort to focus on driving.
“I need to make a stop.” Armie finally bites out as they fly past a sign advertising food and gas stations just four miles out. Timmy feels okay about that. Armie can make four miles.
Until they stop suddenly, traffic slowing to a crawl. Timmy pulls up the map, notices a crash reported ahead.
“Major accident, all westbound lanes blocked.” Timmy reads out. “Reported five minutes ago, and it’s a little over a mile ahead of us.” He bites his lip. They won’t be moving any time soon and if they do, it will be a painfully slow crawl.
“No, no, no.” Armie’s murmuring, one hand jammed between his legs now. Timmy looks around. There are several lanes in each direction and Armie’s in the middle-left. They’re surrounded almost entirely by cars, except for a tractor trailer two cars behind them. Everything is flat, exposed. There’s nowhere Armie can pee without risking being caught, possibly even photographed or recorded, especially if he’s recognized.
Timmy doesn’t know what to say, but he lightly squeezes Armie’s thigh, hoping it reassures him at least of his presence, that he’s not here all alone. He texts Ash, let’s him know about the traffic situation and that they’ll be a little late. He gets a thumbs up and a reminder to be safe in return before he turns to look at Armie.
He’s started sweating and his eyes are watering like he’s near tears. His hand is in his crotch, almost kneading his cock and surrounding tissue.
“I know you don’t want me to talk about it,” Timmy starts gently, trying to think of what to say next. The seats are fabric so if Armie has an accident, it will be hell to get the smell out of the truck.
“I fucked up. Oh God, I fucked up bad.” Armie’s murmuring, his head tipping back, eyes skyward as if hoping for divine intervention for his bursting bladder. “I think it was how early I drank the Cola, but I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m about to piss myself and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. I’m so sorry Tim, this isn’t sexy, I wish you weren’t here to see this.” Armie’s head falls forward, eyes down in shame and a little part of Timmy’s heart breaks. “Even if I wanted to risk peeing on the side of the road, I don’t think I could get there without losing it.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here to support you.” Timmy slowly rubs his back. Shifts the truck into park and pulls the break. They’ll be here for a little while. “Don’t be embarrassed, we all make miscalculations. I’m just sorry you’re hurting.” Armie looks at him, manages a tiny grateful smile, but his clear blue eyes, the eyes Timmy loves so much, are still screaming with panic.
Timmy’s almost ready to just encourage him to let go before he hurts himself trying to hold it when their conversation from Italy filters back through his mind. The way he’ll sometimes take a mouthful or two of Armie’s morning piss in bed or in the shower before Armie gets too squirmy or embarrassed and cuts off his stream, doesn’t let Timmy drink any more of it.
“Turn towards me.” Timmy undoes his own seatbelt, pushes his seat back as much as it will go and slides to the floor. He’s still slim enough that he can get between the seat and the dash if he sits just right. He just needs Armie to spread his legs and turn a little so the angle will be better.
“Oh, Timmy, no. I can’t. I--” Armie fucking squeaks, a very rare noise for him and he’s squeezing himself even harder. “I don’t know if I can control it and I don’t want to piss all over you when I’m the one playing these dumb games with myself.”
“You’re not gonna piss on me. You’re going to turn.” Timmy finally takes initiative, grabbing Armie’s right leg and pulling it so he spreads his legs. Armie cries out, but follows his lead, hips sliding to the edge corner edge of his seat.
Timmy slides himself carefully between Armie’s thick thighs. They’re shaking and Timmy can already see a wet spot in the crotch of Armie’s jeans.
“And I’m gonna drink it because I’m rather thirsty right now.” Timmy brings his hands up as if to undo Armie’s fly. “Do you want me to take your dick out or would it be better if you did it?”
Armie’s bouncing a little and when Timmy looks into his face, he still sees so much hesitation.
“I don’t want to...I’m going to piss , Tim. Like, a lot. I don’t want to overwhelm you or make you choke or gag.”
“And that’s a risk I can take. C’mon, I want you to pee in my mouth. You’ll feel so much better when you do. And if you’re worried, just try to go slow. I know it’s hard when you’re really desperate, but I trust you. It’s okay, I’m here.” Timmy coaxes gently and Armie finally relents, undoing his fly, tilting his hips forward, exposing his wet boxer briefs. He slips his cock through the fly and it’s half hard just from the pressure of holding back.
It twitches and Timmy immediately lurches forward, catches the head in his mouth just as a burst of urine escapes. He swallows it down quickly. Most of what Armie drank is water, so it’s not terribly strong. He chances a brief glance upward, meeting Armie’s eyes, reaching out, taking his hand and squeezing gently, trying to convey what he can’t out loud right now with Armie’s leaking, dribbling cock in his mouth.
It’s okay. I love you. I’m here. I want this. I’ve got you. Let it go.
And when he hears Armie whimper, he knows it’s go-time, refocusing all of his attention on the task at hand, never letting go of Armie’s hand.
The first flood of piss against his tongue fills his mouth faster than expected and he barely is able to swallow it just before it starts leaking out the side of his mouth. It dies back to a trickle and Timmy squeezes Armie’s hand. It came so much faster than it does when Armie has to go in the morning, but if his bladder is really bursting full, he understands.
The next gush starts as a steady stream before Armie’s moan fills his ears and his mouth is quickly filled. He swallows, several times in rapid succession to keep up with Armie’s relief. Every so often, Armie seems to be able to hold himself back a little, the gush easing off into a trickle. It’s enough for Timmy to catch his breath and then the flood is back.
Timmy doesn’t know how long he’s been between Armie’s legs but his thighs have relaxed marginally, despite the fierce grip he has on Timmy’s fingers. His belly is beginning to feel full, heavy with everything he’s had to drink so far, but he can’t stop, not until Armie is empty.
Changing strategies, he draws Armie’s cock into his throat while he dribbles, swallowing around it to make sure it’s in the right place and as soon as Armie understands what he’s doing, his thighs relax.
“Oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” His flow is unrelenting now but it goes straight down Timmy’s throat to his filling stomach. It’s hard but he’s able to manage a few shallow breaths through his nose. Armie’s pissing freely now, his grip on Timmy’s hand still tight but less bruising.
Despite all the urine he had already consumed before he figured out putting Armie’s dick straight into his esophagus was the best answer, it still takes forever for the stream to begin tapering off. He holds his breath, let’s Armie’s dick out of his throat, holding the head against his tongue and the roof of his mouth to catch his breath before he swallows the last couple mouthfuls down.
He squeezes Armie’s hand gently, looks up and meets blue eyes leaking tears, staring at him as if worshiping not just what he did, but Timmy’s very presence in his life.
Timmy carefully pulls back, suckling a little to draw the last lingering drops out of his slit before letting Armie’s cock slip from between his lips.
“Better now?” He turns Oliver’s line back at Armie and is immediately yanked up lifted off the floor and into Armie’s strong arms.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Armie’s still whispering as he leans in for a kiss, Timmy gently letting Armie explore his mouth, as if he’s making sure the taste really wasn’t that awful for Timmy.
“You okay?” He asks, when Armie pulls back and Timmy can thumb the tears from his cheeks.
“Me okay.” Armie bumps their heads together lightly and Timmy slides his arms around Armie’s neck, holding him, feeling his breathing grow steady.
It’s too fresh, too raw for Armie to be able to talk about, but it’s quite possibly the most intimate thing they’ve ever done. Armie rarely subs for him, but it’s not unheard of, and Timmy knows tonight, after they make it through dinner, he’s going to take Armie home and finish taking him apart before he pieces him back together with the map of Armie's soul he first discovered in Crema.