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He feels the slight pressure in his lower belly and a mixture of emotions is rushing through his veins. Pain, excitement, the urge for release and underlying arousal.
Yuta told him it’s fine and, surprised by himself, he believed him. With every other member he would rather die than even think about bringing this topic up.
Maybe it really is Yuta’s healing smile, he thinks. That smile that assures everyone that they’re loved and worthy and nothing could change that.
They’ve always been close to each other, it just comes naturally when you spend so much time and share so many emotions with the same people, Taeyong thinks. They’ve cried on each others shoulders, helped each other in desperate times, had countless hours of deep talks together and yet he’s not sure how to categorise this situation.
Yuta lowers himself on the bed, eyes on Taeyong who stands in front of him, the expression on his face almost lost somehow.
The pressure has reached a point that makes him uncomfortable with just standing in the middle of the room, trying to ignore the growing pain inside him. On top of that, he’s not really sure if Yuta knows what he’s about to get into, what is probably gonna happen soon.
„And you’re really okay with this?“ Yuta‘s voice is steady, his hand describes a vague gesture. Taeyong just nods, obviously it’s okay, otherwise he wouldn’t be here right now. At least he thinks so. And he is the one who should be asking this question instead, since he’s the hyung. But right now he tries not to overthink everything, not this time.
He is used to being the leader, paying attention to his members and trying to help them. Maybe that’s why Yuta‘s subtle dominance of the situation feels so interestingly good and appealing.
„Hyung“, his thoughts get interrupted „maybe you should take off the shirt. And the pants too? You’ll need them tomorrow.“ Taeyong nods.
It’s not until he tries to get out of his pants without putting too much pressure on his bladder, that he realises he’s half hard already. He hears a silent „Oh“ from the bed that makes his skin tingle but he’s determined to get the stylist clothes out of any potential danger first.
The cold floor beneath his feet makes him even more uncomfortable, he shrugs. Right now he can’t imagine how this can take a turn and be comfortable or arousing. The thought of the tiles under his feet leaves him uneasy, he imagines all the little sand corns poking into his skin and in the back of his mind.
Eyes back on Yuta Taeyong waits, suddenly too scared to ask for anything. A chill spreads over his arms and he’s not entirely sure if it’s from the cool air in the room touching his skin now.
The other’s gaze lingers on his body, subtly exploring him, his physical self as well as his soul.
This one situation is exposing so much more about his inner world than every talk, no matter how heavy and saturated with late night dizziness or how deep in the nebula of alcohol, could ever do.
Fear and arousal dance through his veins. He’s not supposed to let go off his controlling position. But right now that’s the only logical and appropriate thing to do.
At least that’s how he feels and it makes his dick twitch.
„Hyung, you trust me, right? Please trust me.“ Taeyong expects Yuta to say more, telling him to let go, but the younger one remains silent, looking at him. His eyes are still soft as always but the glint is different, more intense and full of lust. This realisation and the pressure in his lower regions, that so desperately urges to be noticed and relieved, satisfied makes him squirm.
He let’s go. The relief feels so good, so much better than he had expected. A whine escapes his mouth as his hands desperately try to find something to hold onto. They close around empty air, his nails digging into the palm but he barely feels the pain of it.
A shudder runs through his body, slightly interrupting the flow. He feels the muscles in his lower body contracting and almost jerking.
Taeyong’s eyes snap open as he hears a muffled moan and his gaze meets Yuta’s. The other man is sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him, one hand over his mouth, the other one squeezing his groin. Taeyong can see how the muscles of his yaw flex as Yuta bites down on the ball of his thumb, trying to minimise his sounds.
He feels how his cheeks start to burn, the realisation that this is actually happening seeps through his thoughts.
It should be embarrassing, degrading, vulnerable. It is, all of that. How is he ever supposed to talk to his friend again, without the image and feeling of pissing himself in front of him burned into his mind?
But right now it just feels so good, if feels good to give up control, to be vulnerable, to have someone look at him the way Yuta does right now.
Thank god they don’t have a wooden floor Taeyong thinks, watching the liquid soak through his shorts and collecting in small puddles on the floor. He loves the sight of the wet fabric clinging to his skin and it doesn’t need to much imagination to picture Yuta‘s feelings about this either.
The thought of that makes him feel even hotter and the ball of arousal inside if him gets bigger with every bit of liquid that’s leaving his body. He presses his legs together, the wet skin causing an obscene noise, followed by his own whimper as the pressure on his dick increases.
He hears a movement from the bed and then there’s Yuta crouching next to him, almost glowing.
„Let me take care of you“, he smiles, pupils wide and black with arousal.
Taeyong can only look at him as a big hand lays down on his dick and starts to massage him. „You’re so wet and dirty, hyung“. Taeyong moans and it seems like the other’s eyes get even darker.
„I bet you were embarrassed, peeing yourself like that. But it felt too good to stop, right?“ Suddenly he presses down on Taeyong’s bladder and another small stream of piss escapes him. „Still not empty, huh? Come on, let go for me. You’re always so good to everyone, I know you can give me more.“
His hand caresses the soft, sticky skin of his inner thigh and wanders higher, under the wet fabric of Taeyong‘s shorts as he feels him relaxing once again. „You’re so warm, Hyung“.
He reaches his middle and the older lets out a choked cry, hips bucking into Yuta‘s hand. His whole body is tensing as he tries to hold it in, not wanting to get the other’s hand dirty. It’s painful, but with the exception of a few drops he manages to stay dry.
This time Yuta doesn’t say anything, no nice words about that it’s okay, no teasing, no command that he should let it go. Instead he wraps his fingers around him with a firm grip and starts to stroke. The movement is a little awkward because of their weird positions. But it’s enough to make Taeyong quiver messily on the ground.
Yuta pulls him up, supporting most of the other’s weight with his body as the older one wraps his arms around him. With their bodies pressed together he can feel the wetness slowly soaking into his own clothes but right now he doesn’t care.
One hand rubbing small circles on Taeyong’s back, he palms his crotch again.
He is about to pull off Taeyong’s wet shorts but the words mumbled into the crook of his neck stop him. „No... please leave them on...“
It doesn’t matter to Yuta, so his hand is searching its way under the fabric again, ghosting over the wet skin before he presses his thumb to the underside of the head. A few drops of liquid roll over his hand, he doesn’t know if it’s pee or precome but it feels nice and he also doesn’t care about it.
Still rubbing circles, the hand on Taeyong’s back moves lower, until it reaches the curve of his ass, giving a squeeze before Yuta presses him closer to his own body.
The flow of warm liquid has stopped completely now.
He tightens his grip, moves faster. Taeyong’s hips, that have been too shaky, start bucking into his hands now, small but erratic. His desperation vocalises with a cry, his hand jerks up as if he wants to muffle his own embarrassing noises, but all his energy is focused on not falling apart completely.
Yuta reaches up, his hand dripping from body fluids but they both couldn’t care less. His fingers search their way through Taeyong‘s hair, rubbing his scalp and cupping the back of his head.
„Shh, I got you. You can let go now, baby“, he mumbles against the other’s lips. Taeyong sobs and closes the gap between their mouths, his hips buckle as he cums inside his wet soaked shorts and on Yuta‘s hand that strokes him through his orgasm.
Taeyong feels hot, his whole body trembling. The other’s hand still on his dick, sticky with his cum, is too much now and he sinks back down on his knees.
Yuta leans forward to wipe away a strand of hair is stuck to his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, his lips curled into a small smile. The expression on his face makes Taeyong feel warm, wanted and good.
For a moment he closes his eyes, just wants to feel the last waves of his orgasm, his pulse thumping in his groin, and the now deliciously empty feeling of his bladder.
The air isn’t cold anymore, it’s damp now, thick of arousal, relief and the irreality of the situation.
There’re wet traces on his body, a silently portrait of what the last minutes did to him, covering his skin.
With a sigh Yuta falls back onto his spot on the edge of the bed. Eyes still on Taeyong he nestles on his pants, trying to get them off to wrap a slick hand around himself.
The way Taeyong kneels in the dark puddle of pee, eyes closed and a blissed out look on this face makes his blood stir and tingle, how disheveled he looks, completely lost himself, willing to be hold by Yuta.
With his eyes on the other boy he reaches down to pull his pants open and kick them off his legs. It takes a little longer than he likes because the slightly wet fabrics clings to his skin, but it just turns his on even more.
It feels good having the air touching his skin, a reminder that all this is more than just a weird fantasy.
Taeyong opens his eyes as he hears the sound of heavy breathing.
His gaze focuses on Yuta on the bed, the hands who touched him minutes ago now on his own dick, moving with determination.
He gets closer, his lips touching the head of the other’s dick, hot breath ghosting over it.
Yuta’s hand moves fast and with the next stroke upwards he stretches out his thumb to shove it into Taeyong’s mouth for a second.
Taeyong grins, a small trail of drool running down his chin as the tip of his tongue touches the other’s dick and the rapidly moving thumb.
“Oh fuck Tyong, I-“, Yuta chokes, painfully turned on and close to his orgasm. Taeyong hums and smiles before he takes the head of the cock between his lips. He can hear more of Yuta’s noises, barely silenced by the boys hand, and knows the other might only be seconds away from his release. He gives the cock one, two rough sucks before he pulls away, only the tip of it resting against his lips, causing Yuta to release a unsatisfied grunt.
Lips still touching his bandmates dick he looks up and meets his gaze. “Cum on me, please”, he whines while both of his wet hands dig into the flesh of Yuta’s thighs.
The muscles under his fingers are spasming, he feels Yuta‘s release coating his skin, making him even wetter and he feels small but so euphoric at the same time.
„Thank you“, he whispers with a soft voice.