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The weight in Dex's stomach had been building all day--a hot, cramping pressure that made his whole midsection feel tight, distended. He hadn't shit more then seven days, and it was starting to show. His normally flat stomach pressed noticeably against his mint-green crop top, the fabric straining across a bloat that no amount of ab workouts could hide. Each movement on his roller skates sent ripples of discomfort through his packed gut.
Finn settled onto a bench on the far side of the park as he watched Dex with undisguised interest. His dark eyes tracked every movement, every curve. Finn couldn't help but admire how the red shorts hugged every curve of Dex's ass, how they highlighted his strong thighs as he executed another perfect turn. There was something almost hypnotic about watching him glide across the concrete, confident and graceful despite the occasional grimace that flashed across his face.
Unknown to Finn, that grimace had nothing to do with concentration and everything to do with the unmistakable pressure signaling an impending fart. Dex clenched desperately as he completed his trick, panic rising in his chest. He couldn't let one rip right in front of Finn, not when they'd barely started hanging out, not when he'd spent the last three weeks working up the courage to even suggest skating together.
With a casual-seeming turn, Dex steered himself toward the far corner of the park. "Gonna check out that ramp," he called over his shoulder, hoping his voice sounded normal and not strained with intestinal distress. He slowed his pace, rolling languidly as if surveying the terrain, when in reality he was desperately releasing the pressure built up inside him.
A long stream of gas escaped as he continued to move, Relief flooded through him momentarily, the worst of the immediate pressure subsiding as he circled back toward where Finn sat watching. The respite wouldn't last long--his entire digestive system felt like a shaken soda can--but it bought him some time.
Enough time, he hoped, to wrap up their session with the new trick he'd been practicing all week. The one that would really impress Finn, show him that this wasn't just a casual skate date. That Dex had put in effort, had something to offer beyond the awkward flirtation of their text exchanges.
"Check this out," he called to Finn, gathering speed as he approached the centre of the park. His skates picked up momentum, the wind cooling the sweat on his forehead as he prepared to launch into the complicated move he'd perfected just days ago.
But his body had other plans. Mid-approach, a cramp seized his abdomen, his gut clenching just as he hit the transition. His centre of gravity--already compromised by his unusual fullness--shifted catastrophically.
"Whoa!" he yelps, arms pinwheeling as he loses his balance completely, his carefully planned trick dissolving into chaos as he careens directly toward the bench where Finn sits watching, eyes widening in alarm as pounds of constipated skater hurtles toward him with unstoppable momentum.
Finn reacts instantly, stepping forward to break Dex's fall. They collide with enough force to send them both back, Finn somehow managing to remain upright for a heartbeat before dropping onto a nearby bench. Dex lands squarely in his lap--butt first.
The impact compresses Dex's abdomen, squeezing his packed guts and forcing a pocket of trapped gas to burst through the dense waste. "PFFFT!" The gas pushes past his clenched sphincter, hot and sulfurous, vibrating against the thin fabric of his shorts and warming Finn's lap beneath him. The sound echoes in the empty skatepark, impossibly loud in Dex's mortified ears.
"Oh my god, did I just--sorry about that unexpected ass-blast." Embarrassed laugh, Finn almost chokes "Don't--don't sweat it," he says quickly, voice jumping a little.
Dex attempts to scramble up, but Finn's arms have naturally settled around his waist, holding him in place. As he shifts, trying to find leverage to stand, Dex becomes acutely aware that he's practically sitting directly on Finn's crotch, his shorts-clad butt pressed against the front of Finn's pants.
"I should probably--" Dex starts, but cuts himself off when he realizes something unexpected: Finn is getting hard beneath him.
The realization hit Dex like a jolt--Finn liked this. Not just the closeness. Not just his ass in his lap. He liked the way Dex had farted.
Dex shifted slightly, testing it--pressing his hips back into Finn's lap. He felt Finn's breath catch.
"Dex," Finn said, voice low and suddenly tense.
Dex grinned. That earlier flush of embarrassment? Gone. Burned away under something hotter. Bolder. He wiggled deliberately, letting his ass grind just enough to make Finn twitch.
"You like this," Dex said, eyes dancing with smug heat. "You're actually turned on by me sitting on you."
Finn's face lit up red. "I mean… you have a great ass. What'd you expect?"
Dex laughed under his breath, cheeks still tinged pink but now from pride, not shame. He leaned back into Finn's hold, rolling his hips again--slow, deliberate.
Then he added, "I think you liked something else, too."
Finn blinked. "What?"
Dex looked back over his shoulder, brow cocked, mouth tugged in a cocky half-smile. "This."
And then he shifted his weight, slowly--pressed the full curve of his ass down hard into Finn's lap, as cramp rolled through his belly.
Finn's hands twitched on his waist. Dex felt it--how Finn stiffened, how his breath stopped. Dex's gut gurgled, low.
"Dex--"
"I'm serious," Dex said, cocky as hell now. "Just relax and watch me."
Finn felt it the blood rushing to his cock--the pressure, the warmth. Dex's hole twitched in his tight red shorts.
"Dude," Finn said, half-choked. "Are you about to--"
"Shhh." Dex smirked. "Shut up and let me fart."
He leaned forward slightly, enough to tilt his hips, and let his abs tighten--slow, controlled. The fart started soft, a ghost of a hiss that tickled the seat of his shorts.
fhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRpppt…
It just kept coming. Long, low, rumbling. It shivered through Finn's cock, rolling through his lap like a damn speaker pressed to skin. His erection pulsed in his pants, growing impossibly harder.
"Fuck," Finn groaned, his fingers digging into Dex's hips. "It's hard not to get excited with your ass blasting like that."
Dex let out a breath through his nose, eyes half-lidded, grin widening. He felt every second of it--how it slid out, how it throbbed on the way down, how the heat stayed right there on his crouch.
Finn sat frozen, hands still on Dex's waist. His fingers dug in without meaning to. His cock twitched.
Dex glanced back, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Told you you liked it. Your cock's practically thanking me down there."
Finn cleared his throat, trying and failing to look composed. "You're... you're unbelievable." Another tight clench. Another bubbling roll worked lower.
Dex raised one eyebrow and said, "Wanna see if I can beat that one?"
"wha--" Finn started, but cut off as Dex's stomach gave a low, churn.
Dex braced his hands on Finn's thighs, legs wide in those tight red shorts, and slowly, deliberately, tightened his abs. Just a flex. Just enough to move the pressure where he wanted it. He could feel it--right there, sitting low, the bubble straining against his rim.
He clenched his cheeks hard, locking it in, then loosened slowly, bit by bit, until his hole gave way.
fhhhrrrrrrrrrrRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRrrrpptttt…
The fart crawled out in one long, drawn-out hiss, rumbling straight through Finn's lap. Controlled. It vibrated slow and warm through the seat of his shorts, the pitch rising and falling with every subtle shift in pressure. ffffrrRRRt... then ...rrrpppt, then a soft little plbt on the tail end.
Finn groaned. Dex felt it.
"You're fucking--" Finn choked out.
Dex flexed again--sharper this time, snapping his core like a gym rep. Another little burst slid out--brrrT, tighter and wetter. He exhaled like he was working out, smirking.
"That's two" he said. "told you I'm talented"
Finn's face is now completely crimson, his eyes wide with a mixture of mortification and desire. "This is so weird."
"Weird good or weird bad?" Dex asks, shifting again so he's properly straddling Finn's lap now, facing him directly.
"Weird... good?" Finn admits hesitantly. "I don't know why, it's just--"
Dex cuts him off by leaning forward and pressing their lips together. The kiss is tentative at first, a question, but when Finn responds immediately, it deepens. Dex threads his fingers through Finn's hair, enjoying the small moan that escapes him.
"There," Dex says when they finally break apart, both breathing harder. "Does that make you feel better about being turned on by my farts?"
Finn laughs, the tension breaking. "Maybe. Though I might need more convincing."
Dex grins, leaning in for another kiss. This one is more heated from the start, Finn's hands sliding down to rest on Dex's hips, pulling him closer. The pressure of their bodies together compresses Dex's abdomen, squeezing his packed gut and forcing more gas to bubble through his packed guts. It pushes out his hole "pfft," the vibration right on Finns cock.
Finn breaks the kiss to laugh. "You're something else, you know that?"
"So I've been told," Dex replies, but as he shifts to get more comfortable, The playful mood evaporates as Dex's insides twist, his body reminds him of the more serious situation developing inside. his lower intestine grumbled. He winces, pressing a hand against his abdomen, feeling the hardness and fullness beneath his fingers.
"Hey, you okay?" Finn asks, noticing the change in his expression.
"I, uh--" Dex shifted uncomfortably, legs stiffening as he felt the mass inside him slide forward with ominous weight. "I think I need to find a bathroom. Like... really soon."
Finn's eyes widened. "Oh--yeah, of course." He stood quickly, steadying Dex with a hand to his arm. "There's one by the park entrance, I think."
Dex took a cautious step, then another. His gut churned like a swamp--full, tight, everything inside him slowly pressing downward. Every movement sent the bulk lurching lower, his whole body now working with the pressure.
"I don't want to gross you out," Dex muttered, shame creeping into his voice again. "This is... kind of urgent."
"Don't worry about it," Finn said quickly, but there was a flicker in his eyes--something Dex couldn't read. Hunger? Curiosity? Admiration?
They started toward the entrance. Dex skated slow, cautious, hips stiff, every push grinding the mass inside him further into position. Finn walked beside him, silent, alert.
With each shift, a little gas slipped loose--pfft… prrt…--tiny, shameful hisses he tried to ignore but couldn't. His face was burning, and still more kept forming.
"I should've taken care of this earlier," Dex muttered, pausing mid-roll as another wave rolled through his gut. He clutched his stomach briefly, trying to breathe through it. "I've felt off all day."
"Why didn't you?" Finn asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.
Dex shoots him a look. "Because I was trying to impress your cute ass, obviously"
The admission makes Finn smile, though it's quickly replaced by concern as Dex winces again, his intestines contracting forcefully to push the packed poop further down demanding release.
"We're almost there," Finn says encouragingly, though they both know it's a lie--the bathroom is still a good distance away.
As they pass the edge of the parking lot, Dex suddenly slows. "Wait--your car's here, right? Maybe we just drive to the gas station. It's closer than the park bathroom from this side."
Finn hesitates--just for a second. It's subtle, but Dex misses it. "Uh… yeah," he says. "We could do that."
But deep down, Finn hopes they don't make it.
He doesn't know why--can't explain it--but the idea of Dex losing control, of him squirming, grunting, straining to hold it all in and still failing? It does something to him. Sends heat down his spine, makes his mouth dry. He wants to be there when it happens. He wants to see it.
Dex pushes off hard, redirecting toward the lot. His pace is faster now--skating with real urgency. But the speed only makes it worse. Every rough push rattles his core. His gut gurgles loud, the mass inside sloshing downward, pressing harder against his exit with each jolt griting his teeth. "Hurry, my insides are about to become outsides" he gasps. Sweat's starting to bead along his temples. "I don't think I can--"
"We're almost there," Finn says, gesturing to the car--parked at the far end of the lot, farther than Dex wants to admit.
Dex pushes again. Another shift. His belly twists. A sharp, wet pfft slips out--quiet, but unmistakable.
Dex freezes mid-roll. Almost to the car. His legs lock, thighs pressed tight together like he can squeeze it all back in with sheer force.
His eyes go wide. "Oh fuck," he breathes, barely above a whisper.
There's a heavy pause--no one speaks. The air is thick. Finn doesn't move, but inside, something dark brown and warm coils inside him.
Dex's stomach gurgles again. A long, low grown, heavily shifting and more pressure on his hole.
He takes a step. Wobbles. The pressure dips dangerously.
Another prrt, softer, higher-pitched--like air squeaking past something thick.
He clenches harder, but it's not working anymore.
The car is ten steps away.
Finn watches the tight squeeze of Dex's ass--right there in those stretched red shorts. It twitches. Pulls in. Trying to hold something back.
And that's when it hits him.
Dex might lose it.
Right there. In front of him. In those sexy red shorts. On the pavement.
He imagines it happening--Dex doubling over with a grunt, the fabric tightening even more as a wet hiss breaks free.
Finn's throat dries.
His dick twitches.
He slows his pace. Fingers drift toward his back pocket.
"That's weird," he says, already lying. "I can't find my keys."
Dex's head snaps around. "What?"
"I had them earlier," Finn says, playing it calm, just enough concern in his voice to cover the spark in his eyes.
He starts patting his chest, jacket, down his sides--everywhere but the back pocket where the keys are pressed against his ass. He knows exactly where they are.
A thick, agonizing glrroooaannnn rolls through Dex's belly.
"Please, Finn," Dex begs, genuine desperation in his voice. "Find your keys. I'm seriously about to shit myself." moaning. His knees wobbled and his hands shot back fast taking a desperate grip of his ass in red shorts. He clenched hard. His gut growled low and angry. He could feel it--the tip of the turd nosing at his hole, thick and heavy pressing harder.
it was too fucking late.
pprrrrrrrrbtttttt… flrrrpt… mflblrrppptt…
a hissing fart slipping, stinky and warm. Then his hole twitched, widening, Each gassy shudder vibrated right through his palms, the turd pushing, nosing out as he gripped tighter, uselessly trying hold his cheeks closed. Slowly his grip was forced open, poo starting to poke out of his cheeks.
His eyes wide, mouth gaping, breath stalling in his chest. "No--no--no…" he whispered, voice cracking, face flushing.
It wouldn't stop. The pressure had built too long, too tight--his gut gurgling, his hole giving up. Another wet fart ripped free, and the turd nosed further, uncoiling hot and heavy between his cheeks.
And Finn was watching--eyes wide, interest undisguised, pupils dark.
"Are you…" Dex started, voice cracking, disbelief cutting through as he straightened just enough to catch Finn's eyes. His gaze flicked down, landing on Finn's hand--now drifting low, holding himself through his jeans, not subtle. "Are you getting turned on by this?"
Finn's mouth opened, then snapped shut, words choking. Tasting his lower lip, face flushed deep red--not just his face, though. his hand pressed harder against his cock, fingers twitching over the massive bulge he couldn't hide. He shifted again, angling his hips like he could mask it, but the outline was blatant, pushing against the denim.
"…Yeah," throat dry, He couldn't tear his eyes away from the subtle lump beneath Dex's red shorts. They had begun to tent slightly. Finn's throat went dry. He could pinpoint the tip of that turd. "I don't know why--I didn't expect it. But watching you… like this--" His glance darted down, taking in the way Dex's legs trembled, the way his ass clenched. "You're just so fucking hot right now. I can't look away."
Dex stared at him, stunned, mouth slack, the echo of the last fart still hanging in the air. Finn didn't break eye contact, even as the smell settled thick between them--earthy, stinky, curling up from Dex's shorts. His fingers twitched against his crotch, pressing down on his cock, trying to cover it but Dex saw it--every inch of it, hard and massive, straining for him--
As if to spike the moment, Inside Dex still had to shit big time, The pressure was back and his hole doming more. Thick brown mass pushing through "It's happening," he whispers, pleasure washing over him as he feels his exit stretching, "I can't stop it."
The log is thick and heavy, refusing to break despite his desperate clenching. It forces the seat of his shorts out like a long spike, bent and pressed against his right cheek. When it finally does snap off with a muted crack, it settles with a dull "fwhmp" against the fabric, immediately moulding itself to the contours of his ass. The smell hits his nose.
"Oh god," he breathes, but it's not entirely a sound of distress.
His stomach gurgles loudly in the quiet car park, a warning rumble. Dex winces, knowing what it means after not taking a dump for over a week.
"You're… pushing…" Finn said, his eyes widening as he notices the bulge forming in the seat of Dex's shorts.
"Yeah," Dex mutters, breath catching. "It's coming.", his face flushing hot with embarrassment. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling the warm, solid mass pressing against his skin through the fabric of his underwear.
The first bulge is already the size of a baseball, stretching the fabric taut across his right cheek. The bulge is unmistakable--nasty and obscene in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.
"Fuck, I can't believe this is happening," Dex mutters, dropping his usual careful language as the situation strips away his social filters.
Before he can say more, his gut clenches again with a pronounced gurgle that makes Finn's eyebrows rise. "Nggh... thhhpl," Dex grunts involuntarily, his face contorting as another wave hits. His hole opens again reluctantly as more of the backed-up poo pushes out in a more hurried fashion. This one doesn't break cleanly--instead, it squeezes out with a wet "shlop" sound and immediately squashes against his shorts, slimy and hot as it spreads across his cheeks and down between his legs. The mound grows rapidly, doubling in size to something closer to a softball, sagging slightly with its increasing weight. A small puff of gas escapes as he continues laying cable, finding its way through whatever space it can in his packed shorts straining as they cradle the start of a week's worth of his backed up shit.
"Christ, that's a lot," Finn says, abandoning any pretense of politeness, his eyes wide as he watches the bulge expand. "You're really filling those shorts."
"Shut up," Dex groans, but there's no real heat behind it. His hands grip his knees tighter, knuckles white, fingers twitching like they could somehow will the shorts back into place--but no amount of shifting can fix what gravity has already claimed. The weight is too much. Heavy, warm, and unforgiving, the load sags low between his legs, dragging the waistband down with its insistent pull. The bulge is now undeniably massive, easily the size of a large grapefruit, stretching his shorts to their limit and creating a visible outline that hangs heavily behind him. His gut empties inch by inch, the massive dump reshaping itself against the fabric, pressing against places it has no business touching.
Dex shifts his behind to the side, leaning awkwardly as he reaches back with one trembling hand to feel the damage. His fingers connect with the bulge, finding a lumpy block of shit that was firm to the touch, like plasticine. He can map the contours through the fabric, feel where it's molded itself against him, where it's packed most densely.
"Pretty impressive load you're carrying back there," Finn says, his eyes fixed on Dex's exploring hand. "Bet that feels weird as hell to touch."
"You have no idea," Dex mutters, then freezes as his stomach lets out its loudest gurgle yet--a prolonged, liquid rumble that seems to travel from one side of his abdomen to the other.
His muscles clench involuntarily as another spasm hits his gut. "Hnng... thrrrch," he groans, body tensing completely before his hole dilates again. This new turd emerges differently--it's softer, more clay-like, and it extrudes in one continuous motion, coiling as it pushes out behind and over the solid lump he'd done earlier. A series of soft "slrk--slrk--slrk" sounds mark its progress as it forces the fabric to stretch in a new direction, raising the stakes of his predicament. Unlike the previous segments, this one doesn't break off cleanly--it stretches and thins until the end finally separates from his hole with a wet, sticky sound, settling with a final "sclomp" against the existing mass.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers, snatching his hand away and wiping it compulsively against his thigh even though no contamination has breached the fabric. "It's... everywhere."
"Yeah, no shit," Finn says, then immediately breaks into a nervous laugh at his own unintentional pun. "I mean, actually, yes shit. A lot of it."
The moment of crude humor somehow makes the situation slightly less mortifying. Dex finds himself huffing out a surprised laugh despite everything.
The scene that unfolds in the fading light of the skatepark is a study in contrasts--Dex's athletic frame perched awkwardly on his expensive mint-green roller skates, those long, toned legs that had earlier cut such graceful arcs across the concrete now bowed uncomfortably outward. His fitted tank top still looks the part of the serious skater, clinging to his lean torso and highlighting the definition of his shoulders. But below, the pristine image disintegrates completely. His red shorts, once sleek and slim, now sag with the unmistakable weight of his massive accident, seat bulging obscenely, stretched to its limit by what must be several pounds of waste after a week of constipation.
"Holy shit, Dex. Those shorts are getting packed."
Dex's face cycles through emotions--shock, embarrassment, and then a kind of desperate resignation. He bends his knees slightly, both hands instinctively moving to his thighs to hold his shorts up as another cramp twists through his lower abdomen. The position only makes things worse--his legs bow outward from the massive load, the weight of it pulling his shorts down further despite his grip on the fabric. The waistband slips lower, exposing the top half of his crack to the open air, the division between his cheeks visible above the red material that strains to hold his pooped underwear.
"Nice ass," Finn says, the filter between his brain and mouth completely dissolved. "Or at least, what I can see of it above all the... you know."
"Shut up, your enjoying this show" Dex groans.
His stomach lets out another warning gurgle.
In his exposed position, with his buttocks partially bared to the evening air, Dex feels a new pressure building. Not just solid this time, but more from his gassy ass--air that's been trapped behind his impacted bowels for days. His anal lips, already loosened and compromised from his ongoing accident, twitches and lets rip--it bubbles out wetly, making his hole vibrate and flutter. The sound is obscene, a moist burbling that ripples visibly through his exposed cheeks as pockets of trapped air escape his mound of shit one after another, the last of the gas propels the waiting poo forward like a cork from a bottle. The solid mass slides out with sudden momentum in his hole, ejected by the pressure behind it. It breaks free with a soft, heavy plop, adding atop the substantial mound already packed in his shorts.
"Fuck," Finn moans, the word escaping his lips involuntarily as he watches the subtle tremor pass through Dex's exposed flesh and the visible expansion of the bulge below. The sound is rude, ripe. eyes fixed on the obscene bulge before him--Dex's crack on full display, the waistband of his shorts rolled halfway down his ass, the bulge beneath growing visibly larger as his body continues its unstoppable grunting push.
"You're doing great," Finn says, his voice husky now, no longer hiding it. "Just let it happen."
Finn's hand moves, reaching out toward the bulge in Dex's shorts. feeling the warmth through the thin material.
"It's so warm," Finn murmurs. His fingers trace it, mapping the shape. The mass shifts slightly beneath his palm, squashing slightly and making Dex gasp. "It's huge."
"This is so fucked up," Dex whispers, but he makes no move to push Finn's hand away.
his shorts halfway down his backside, the bulging mess straining the fabric, his mint-green skates planted firmly on the concrete; The pose. The shame. The smell.
The moment doesn't feel real--it feels suspended, filthy.
Then Dex speaks again--voice lighter now, wry, dangerous in how casual it sounds.
"You know," he says, glancing back at Finn with a lopsided smirk, "you've been pretty damn interested in all this."
He gestures vaguely behind him, at the swollen, steaming mass packed between his cheeks.
"All the comments. All that staring."
His brow lifts.
"Maybe you should get a closer look."
Before Finn can process what's happening, Dex moves with surprising grace for someone in his condition. He turns and places his hands on Finn's shoulders, guides Finn backward until the backs of his knees hit the wooden park bench conveniently situated just a few feet from where he'd parked.
"Dex, what are you--"
"Giving you what you seem to want," Dex says with a small, surprising smile. With a deliberate slowness that makes Finn's breath catch, Dex turns around and begins to lower himself onto Finn's lap.
"Oh--" Finn's exclamation dies in his throat as the bulging seat of Dex's shorts makes contact with his thighs.
The weight is the first thing Finn registers--far heavier than just Dex's body. The sagging, packed mass settles across his lap with a soft "mrlgch" sound, spreading outward as it flattens between them. What had been a prominent bulge hanging down from Dex's backside now compresses and widens, distributing across Finn's crouch like warm clay being pressed between them. The warmth seeps immediately through his jeans, an intimate heat that makes him gasp.
"Jesus Christ," Finn breathes, his hands instinctively coming up to Dex's waist to steady him.
"This is what you wanted, right?" Dex asks over his shoulder, his voice surprisingly light given the circumstances. "To know exactly what it feels like?"
The pressure against Finn's crouch increases as Dex settles his full weight down, the packed mass flattening further between them. now spreading in all directions, like a warm cushion giving way. Compressing the huge shit mound, and the leg bands around Dex's legs--already strained--finally gives way.
A soft "splrnnch" sound as some of the softer waste oozes from the stretched leg bands of Dex's shorts, smearing against both their thighs.
"Oh my god," Finn gasps, but doesn't push Dex away.
"Still interested?" Dex asks, rotating his hips slightly, causing more of the mess to squish between them. The sensation is indescribable--warm, taboo. wet squelching sounds with each movement.
Dex feels his gassy diet kicking in again. He shifts slightly, a playful thought coming to mind.
"I--" Finn starts, then stops, unable to form coherent thoughts at this point. The smell is overwhelming now, primal and inescapable, but somehow it only adds to the intensity of the moment.
Dex looks back over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey Finn," he says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know how you like my farts, right?"
Finn's eyes widen, a mixture of shock and something else--anticipation?--crossing his face. "What? --"
Before he can finish his protest, Dex relaxes the muscles in his abdomen, farting softly "pffrrt" muffled by the packed mass in his shorts--but the vibration of it ripples through the mess and, by extension, through Finn's lap.
"Oh god," Finn moans, his fingers digging into Dex's waist with sudden intensity.
Dex feels Finn's body tense beneath him, a tremor running through the others frame that he recognizes immediately. The realization of what's happening hits him at the same moment that Finn's breathing hitches dramatically.
"Are you--?" Dex begins, turning further to see Finn's face clearly.
Finn's eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent gasp, his entire body rigid beneath Dex. As the pulses of his release begin to travel through his body, Dex feels another bubble of gas forming inside him. Without hesitation, he lets it rip--a slightly wetter "blrrrp" that vibrates through the packed mass between them just as Finn cums hard.
The combination--pulses of his own orgasm and vibration against his dick--causes Finn to cry out. His fingers grip Dex's waist with bruising intensity as he rides the unexpected wave of pleasure.
"Did you just--?" Dex asks, his voice filled with surprised wonder rather than mockery.
Finn's face flushes crimson, his eyes still closed as he experiences the final tremors of his unexpected climax. "I didn't mean to," he whispers, mortification evident in his voice. "It just--the vibration, and the warmth, and--"
"Wow," Dex breathes, a strange laugh bubbling up from his chest. "I knew you got off on me packing my shorts with shit, but who knew you'd cream your jeans just from a few lap farts"
Dramatic pause
"I guess we're even now," Finn says finally, a shaky laugh escaping his throat as he opens his eyes to meet Dex's gaze. "Both ruined our pants."
The comparison perfectly ridiculous, Dex can't help but laugh--a real laugh this time, not the nervous kind from before. The laughing jostles them further mass smearing between them.
"Now clean-up," he says practically. "And then..."
"My car's is just there," Finn offers, suddenly remembering. "And look, I found my keys," Finn tries to say convincingly, his expression suggesting otherwise. A guilty smile breaks across his face.
"You never lost them, did you?" Dex asks, realization dawning. "You just wanted to watch me shit myself."
"Maybe," Finn admits, unlocking the car and pulling out some plastic grocery bags from the trunk. "Can you blame me? The way you were wiggling around was hot."
"You're a kinky bastard," Dex says, but there's no real anger in his voice. "And now you've got a sticky reminder in those jeans."
They arrange the bags on the seats carefully, both wincing as they settle into their makeshift plastic protection.
"Roll those windows down," Dex commands as Finn starts the engine. "Like, all the way down. Nobody needs to smell what's happening in here."
Finn complies, the fresh air a small mercy as they pull away from the curb.
"Let's go to my place," Finn suggests, casting a sidelong glance at Dex. "You can shower there. A very, very long shower."