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Jeongin stands on his knees on the mattress, Jisung flush against his stomach as Jisung swallows around his boyfriend’s cock, his fingers clawing into Jeongin’s strong thighs. Jisung takes him so deep, Jeongin’s cockhead mashing rudely against his throat, as Jisung’s nose smushes right against his pelvis. He can feel Jeongin’s soft tummy bump against his nose as he bends over, just to reach a long arm across the expanse of Jisung’s bowed back to pump his fingers hard and fast into Jisung’s cunt as he sloppily chokes on Jeongin’s cock.
Holding Jeongin’s cock in his mouth, not even moving, he swallows around it, drools around it, chokes around it, as Jeongin’s fast fingers abuse his cunt, vibrate his body. He knows it’s going to hurt later. Jisung doesn’t ignore the way his swollen bladder burns, bloated with piss, body unable to instinctively let go like it wants—like he wants, like Jeongin wants. This was the whole point—to test the boundaries; to see if he could do it, let go; to see how good it would feel. But Jisung just can’t get there, not yet.
Jisung’s cunt clenches as Jeongin runs him thumb over the wrinkled skin of his asshole, and Jisung wishes he would fuck it into him, to feel the aching stretch paired with the burning feeling in his guts and the wet, velvet heat being stroked in his cunt. Jisung’s swollen cock ruts against the bedsheets, and he thinks he’ll surely lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t come back to back to back.
Suddenly Jisung’s cunt is empty, and he pulls off Jeongin’s slick-wet cock, looking up at his boyfriend with the tip against his pink mouth. He languidly strokes the glossy shaft in his rough, lazy hand.
“Hyung,” Jeongin cries out, “fuck.”
“Mm,” Jisung hums, gummy lips kissing against Jeongin’s gushy slit. Jisung can feel his slick seeping from his hole, wet and sticky. That bruise-like burning in his urethra and bladder are still there, but he’s able to ignore it as he focuses on working Jeongin’s cock back to into his mouth.
Reclining back, bracing his weight on his hands, Jeongin looks down at Jisung, eyes glassy and far away. Jisung knows it—can see it in Jeongin’s face—that he’s so hungry for his cunt, that that pathetic hyung means please let me inside already.
“You want it, baby?” Jisung muffles against Jeongin’s wet tip. “To bully this big cock right into my stomach?” Jisung spits right onto the tip, loud and obscene. He won’t tell Jeongin that he’s being greedy, spoiled, bratty. Didn’t hyung let you fuck his cunt not even ten minutes ago? You already need more?
Jeongin breathes out “Hyung” again—whiny, pliant, perfect—and Jisung is already pushing himself to his knees just to turn around and present both holes to Jeongin’s drippy dick, elbows mashed into the bed to hold himself up.
“Fuck,” Jeongin says, both hands coming to slap against Jisung’s ass. Jisung feels the warm sting bloom on his skin, and then that delicious aching stretch of his asshole as Jeongin pulls his cheeks apart.
“Innie, fuck,” Jisung says, head dropping between his shoulders. He clenches his asshole on purpose. “Don’t just look. Fuck m—”
Jisung is cut off with a quick, fluid punch of Jeongin’s cock inside his cunt, flesh slapping against flesh, and he cries out, letting his elbows give up and his forehead press into the mattress. Jeongin takes him hard and fast, a breakneck, brutal speed that has Jisung shuffling forward across the bed, so much so that Jeongin has to pull him back and force him onto his cock again and again and again. He could piss himself like this, Jisung thinks, as his bladder roils in his bloated tummy. He could piss all over Jeongin’s cock just like this. Head a fucking mess, unable to find the thoughts to be shy about it, to hold it in. Not yet, Jisung thinks, fuck, not yet.
Digging his thumb into Jisung’s asshole, Jeongin continues to fuck Jisung from behind, like an animal, a fucking dog, and Jisung groans loud and deep into the humid space under him. It’s starting to hurt, his bladder. Straining painfully against his muscles, urethra feeling fucking tortured. He tries to relax his insides, but he still can’t make himself urinate; he thinks he could cry over it. He needs to piss, he needs to die, he needs to come.
“Jeongin,” Jisung says, choking, throat hoarse, “Jeongin, fuck, wanna come. Make hyung come. Gotta pee, fuck, gotta pee. So close, it hurts. Wanna—on your cock.” He still can’t say it, face hot over it: Wanna piss all over your cock. Pushing his ass back, he tries to chase Jeongin’s length, though it doesn’t do much, not with the way Jeongin all too fast hits his hips hard and bruising against Jisung’s already slap-sweltered, blistering skin.
Forcing Jisung onto his stomach—fuck, it hurts in his bladder right where Jisung needs it most—Jeongin drapes himself over Jisung’s back and lets out, airy and breathless, “Want you to, hyung. Wanna feel it,” sweetly against Jisung’s neck. Jeongin turns them onto their sides and he circles his arms around Jisung’s abdomen, stupid hands completely ignoring Jisung’s fat, little cock, slowing his pace down to something agonizing as Jisung moans out delirious pet names and curses and praises.
“You said you were close,” Jeongin tells him, sliding his dick in and out of Jisung’s throbbing, puffy pussy at such a leisurely pace that Jisung almost cries over it, frustrated beads of tears settling, stinging and achey, in his waterline.
“Fuck, Yen-ah, fuckin’— Torturin’ me, I’m—fuck,” Jisung sobs, his hands coming to mindlessly grip at Jeongin’s around his waist.
Jeongin, with his cock still deep in Jisung’s cunt, rolls onto his back, Jisung’s own warm back flush against his sweating abdomen. It’s rough how Jeongin maneuvers them both just so Jeongin can easily recline against the pillows at the head of the bed, all the while jostling Jisung. I’m so full, Jisung thinks. Of Jeongin’s cock in his cunt, of the urine bloating his straining bladder. His cunt fucking aches, his cock fucking aches. Everything is already swollen and drenched in slick, spit, and lube—from Jeongin’s merciless fingers, Jeongin’s mean tongue, from his fat cock taking turns to bully Jisung’s pussy, to hollow him out from the inside out. Hollowed empty just to be filled with come and piss. Fuck, would Jeongin— Inside? Could he, inside? Flood his guts—
“Yen-ah—ah—fuck,” Jisung breathes out as Jeongin’s cockhead hits hard in Jisung’s deepest place as he forces Jisung to sit on his cock, Jeongin’s bent knees supporting Jisung’s splayed thighs.
With the little strength he has left, Jisung holds himself up with his palms downturned against the mattress with Jeongin’s cock lodged deep in his pussy. There’s little Jisung can do in this position, in this state of mind, with this strength—all he can do is take it, pulsating pussy getting impaled like Jeongin’s cock were a brutal piston, throbbing bladder trying to burst and break apart.
“Baby, baby, baby, I’m—hah—gonna, I’m—wanna, filled up, Yen-ah,” Jisung babbles, moving from coherent words to inarticulate phrases barely strung together with logic. Then there it is—that merciful, or merciless, hand snaking around Jisung’s hip, sliding right to his swollen clit.
“F—hah—uck,” Jisung growls as Jeongin taunts his sensitive, distended clit with unfair speed, mind-melting speed, tugging on him, stroking him, fingering at him, all the while burying his cock so deep inside Jisung’s body he thinks it’ll come out of his mouth.
He thinks he’s going to come. He thinks he won’t be able to. He thinks he’s going to come so hard that Jeongin’s cock is forced from his cunt. He thinks he's never going to come with how much his urethra burning with the need to urinate is taking over his addled, cock-hungry, piss-thirsty brain. What if he can’t climax? What if he can’t piss all over his boyfriend’s cock like he’s been wanting to? Jeongin bullies his cock into Jisung’s slick cunt, and Jisung sobs out something broken and bestial.
It’s never ending, a time loop. Of Jeongin slinging his cock, sac hitting against Jisung’s wet folds, long fingers flicking at Jisung’s clit. Until Jisung flat lines. Until his legs are jelly, twitching and bending out, then his knees coming in together, as his hung-open mouth lets out gurgles and guttural half-moans. His insides get all tight and taut, then all hot and foamy, until everything is liquid. Until it’s gushing.
I’m squirting, Jisung has half the mind to realize. I’m fucking squirting. He throws his head back and lets himself come, moan glass-shattering loud, thighs twitching, knees trying to kiss each other, as Jeongin dances his slick fingers over Jisung’s pussy as his thrusts slow down. It doesn’t stop though, it doesn’t—and that’s when Jisung realizes it’s not slick, he’s not squirting, wonders if he had at all, as his bladder pleasantly deflates, all his urine flooding from his cunt down his boyfriend’s cock.
“Holy—fucking—shit, hyung,” Jeongin barely manages out, letting his fingers play in the wetness spurting from Jisung’s pussy. Jeongin comes without warning, hard and deep, all of it hitting gummy and thick against the walls of Jisung’s fucked-raw cunt.
There’s nothing Jisung can say. He only sobs, grinding his hips down, chasing his orgasm, emptying his bladder onto his boyfriend’s dick, picturing piss and slick and come running down Jeongin’s sac, to the backs of his thighs, the swell of his ass.
Gentle, strong arms come to wrap right around Jisung’s midsection, and he’s pulled back against his boyfriend’s chest, filthy cock slipping out of Jisung’s equally filthy cunt.
“Fuck, I did it,” Jisung says, throat gravelly. Jeongin presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to his nape. “Fuck, baby.”
Barely able to, Jisung slides off Jeongin, only to throw a weak, trembling leg right over his boyfriend’s hips, much to his surprise. So much mess slides, sticky and thick, all over Jeongin’s pelvis straight from Jisung’s fluttering hole.
“Jagi—” Jeongin starts, but he’s immediately cut off when Jisung fits Jeongin’s cock right between the lips of his pussy. He slides his gooey slit over Jeongin’s sensitive shaft, watching Jeongin’s eyes stutter and squeeze shut. His boyfriend’s hands come up to rest on Jisung’s hips, thumbs caressing his wet skin. It reeks in this room—like sex, must, ammonia. Like some feral animal, it only spurs Jisung further. His cunt squelches across his boyfriend’s cock.
“Are you able to?” Jisung huffs out tenderly, eagerly, expectantly, brows pinched as he slides his gushy, come filled hole across Jeongin’s sensitive shaft. “Are you going to? Can you—for hyung? Please?”
“Fuck, hyung, fuck,” Jeongin grits, hands weakly gripping at Jisung’s waist. “I’m—fuck.” Jeongin’s sweat slick face has bloomed into a pink, embarrassed flush. So shy, so hot, Jisung thinks. His cute boyfriend. A little nervous, a little humiliated.
With his eyes squeezed shut, Jeongin softly cries out, “Hyung, it won’t— I can’t.”
“You don’t have to, baby, it’s okay.”
“No, I, fuck, I want to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jisung presses his hands onto Jeongin’s stomach, right above his bladder, feeling the taut skin under his fingers. “Do you trust me?” he whispers.
“Mm.”
That’s all Jisung needs to push harder onto Jeongin’s swollen bladder, sliding his pussy faster across his boyfriend’s steadily flagging cock, feeling the tip run under his own engorged clit. Jeongin squirms, sobbing, as Jisung uses him like a toy, letting his nasty, wet cunt squeeze and fuck across his cock. Jisung’s evil pointer fingers swirls around Jeongin’s tip, over and over and over, trying to make him come again, trying to milk his cock of everything, see it spurt, see it leak.
“Fuck, I’m—” Jeongin sobs out, voice garbled and spent, fingers squeezing hard into Jisung’s soft hips. “Shit, shit, jagi, coming—ah—again. Fuck.”
It’s weird—insane even—as he watches Jeongin writhe beneath him as he comes something watery and pathetic from his overstimulated, spent tip before it turns into something else. Until hot urine is spilling from the seed-muddied slit of his red, weeping cock all over his stomach. A watery sob erupts from Jeongin’s mouth as Jisung watches, Jisung feeling like he could come from the sight alone: hot, pale yellow urine washing away the viscous come that had dripped messy and globular onto his smooth skin as his boyfriend’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, piss flooding, pooling, and draining from the gentle divots and lines of Jeongin’s torso.
“Fuck, Yen-ah, fuck, you’re so hot,” Jisung says down to him, grinding onto Jeongin’s cock, trapping it between his swollen cunt and Jeongin’s soiled belly. “Fuck, you did so good, baby. Did so good for hyung.”
Jisung leans down to lick at Jeongin’s mouth. They kiss slow, tender, until Jeongin’s needy mouth is begging for Jisung’s tongue. Jisung obliges, he always does, laving his soft tongue against the insides of Jeongin’s mouth.
“Hyung,” Jeongin says, warm breath fanning out across Jisung’s spent mouth. “Fuck, I can’t believe we did that.”
“Yeah?” Jisung says, his own wandering mouth dragging across the salty skin of Jeongin’s jaw, his neck. He sucks gently at the flesh, tasting him on his tongue.
Jisung asks hopefully, “You liked it?”
“Yeah, fuck,” Jeongin tells him, exasperated, “I liked it.”