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As soon as his shift was done, Battat wanted to sprint right back to the Mike Room. It had been a busy day - Tenna had almost constantly needed him for something or other. Not to the point that he felt the need to tap in another Mike, but definitely still a lot. With all that distraction, it was only now that the urge to use the bathroom hit him full-force. He needed to be quick.
Unfortunately, the Mike costume didn't exactly allow for very nimble movement, but he couldn't risk taking it off where someone might see. The moment he reached his destination, he bolted towards the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. He pressed his legs together as he reached for the zipper on the back of the costume. It was something of a design flaw - he really should've given himself a way to use the toilet without having to take the whole thing off, but it also usually wasn't this dire.
...And the zipper was stuck.
Goddammit.
Battat cursed under his breath, backing up and trying again. It got stuck at the same point. His movements got more frantic in an attempt to jiggle it loose, but all that accomplished was making it so that he couldn't move the zipper in either direction. Great. Just great. Fucking fantastic. He took a deep breath, and felt his bladder straining against the costume. In front of him, the toilet was tantalizingly close.
This was bad. In his panic, the zipper slipped out of his hand, and he fumbled trying to grasp it again. The stupid gloves were too thick for any fine movements. And of course, of course, he couldn't just take them off separately. No, in his infinite wisdom he had made the entire costume a single connected piece. To streamline the process of taking it on and off. What a joke.
It occurred to him that he could ask Jongler or Pluey for help. But that meant letting them see him like this, flustered and helpless and on the verge of pissing himself. His breaths grew shallower. It was way too hot in this costume. A wave of desperation hit him, and he quickly shoved a hand between his legs, clenching his muscles as hard as he could. As much as he would have liked to solve this by himself and never have to think about it again, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.
Battat swallowed. "Jongler? Pluey?" he called out.
No response. The costume head was muffling his voice too much. Another twinge from his bladder had him gritting his teeth. He tried shouting again, louder this time.
To his relief, there was a distant saxophone note.
"Pluey!" he yelled. The other must be a couple rooms away, that was why they hadn't heard him. The prospect of getting out of this situation soon allowed him to relax a little.
A little too much.
He only realized his mistake when a sizable leak escaped him almost immediately. The sudden wetness on his crotch made him seize right up again, but it was too late. His overburdened muscles could only stop the flow for a few moments before he fully burst, a torrent of liquid spilling from him, soaking through the layers of clothing and costume like they were nothing.
Despite that, he still tried his best to prevent the inevitable, clenching to hold it back, hands shoved between his thighs, but it was no use. The whole process was very stop-and-start, Battat managing to fight it off for fractions of a second before it just kept pouring out of him. All the while, shame burned hot in his chest, panicked tears in his eyes, a desperate voice in the back of his head chanting Pluey's gonna see, he's gonna see, he's gonna see!
- - - - -
When Pluey got to the bathroom door, it could hear muffled crying behind it, immediately putting it on alert. Whatever was going on, Battat needed it. It knocked on the door to let him know it was here, then grasped the door handle.
Behind the door, they heard "Pluey, wait-"
But it was already too late.
As soon as he had opened the door, Pluey was hit with the pungent smell of piss. It was so intense that he almost felt dizzy, and it wasn't difficult to figure out why: The entire lower half of Battat's Mike costume was absolutely soaked. He stared, transfixed, face growing hot. And as if that wasn't enough, buried under the other, more prominent scent, he could faintly smell arousal. Was he really...?
"Pluey, don't- you- you weren't supposed to see me like this!" Battat stammered, crossing his legs.
The scent of arousal grew stronger.
"I just- the costume, I couldn't get the costume off, and..." he trailed off, looking over at Pluey, who still hadn't said anything.
Before they could stop themself, a question exited their mouth, notes hastily strung together.
"Am I into-" Battat's voice rose by an octave or two, indignant, tense. And yet, when Pluey tasted the air, they could tell that it was doing something to him. "Of course not! Why would I, I mean-" he broke off into nervous laughter, not sounding particularly convincing.
Pluey took a step forward, leaning over to nuzzle its face into the crook of his neck as best as the costume allowed, and purred. Hopefully that'd get the message across.
"...You really don't mind?"
A low, excited sequence of notes, detailing just how much they didn't mind, fell from their lips. From this close up, they could hear Battat swallow.
"Yeah, okay, yeah. If you could just get me out of this stupid thing real quick..."
Pluey moved to take a look at the back of the costume. The zipper had caught on a bit of fabric, and it took him a minute or two of finagling to get it unstuck. Helped along by the fact that, unlike the other, he could actually see what he was doing. Battat stepped out of the costume, then quickly tossed the rest of his soaked clothing to the side as well. They could wash it later.
They moved to the bedroom fairly quickly, only snagging a towel from the bathroom so that Battat could lay down without getting the bed wet. After all, his thighs were still slick with piss, shining in the low light of the room. Pluey licked its lips at the sight. Its hands gripped Battat's legs, keeping them apart. And if its claws dug in a little, just to hear the way he gasped at that, it was no one's business but its own.
They started slowly, licking a stripe up his leg where a single droplet had trailed its way down. Then they repeated the motion on the other side, slowly working their way up until the heavy aroma of urine completely drowned out the taste of Battat's skin. It didn't taste good, per se, but it was intense in a way that Pluey found intoxicating.
He nipped at Battat's skin here and there, between licks, turning to full-on bites as he reached the softness of his inner thighs. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave marks that stood out starkly against his pale skin. All the while, Battat writhed above him, letting out small, half-stifled noises. If Pluey could, he would commit each one to memory.
There wasn't really any more liquid to clean off of the others legs at this point, but Pluey kept mouthing at his skin anyway, sucking hickeys into it and licking over the indents of teeth to soothe the ache. And every so often, it would take a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of sweat, slick, and pure arousal that hung in the air. It couldn't get enough of it all, and its brain was swimming in the heady feeling.
Oh, he was just as, if not more affected by this whole situation than Battat. Barely pausing long enough to breathe, he took one of his hands off of the other's leg to instead hastily shove it down his pants, not even bothering to pull them down. The angle was kind of awkward, but just wrapping a hand around himself brought enough relief that he didn't care. He moaned out a note before diving right back in.
Battat was clearly more than a little impatient for Pluey to get to it already, if the way his legs locked around their head the moment their nose brushed his crotch was any indication. Still, Pluey took a moment just to sniff deeply, a low purr rumbling in his chest. His tongue darted out to lick teasingly at Battat's t-dick, and when that earned him a frustrated "Come on," he decided to stop stalling.
It closed its lips around his dick, sucking on the head lightly. Battat whined, and Pluey bobbed its head forward, accompanied by rhythmic movements of his mouth. At this point, its nose was buried in his pubic mound, having to take shallow breaths just to keep going for as long as possible. Its tongue trailed the underside of his length, and his legs twitched as he babbled praises.
"Mmh, good kitty, just like that-"
The hand Pluey was using to stroke himself faltered in its rhythm, just a little, as he lost himself in the moment. His mouth and tongue kept moving, determined, almost automatic, even as his jaw started to cramp. And when a hand roughly grabbed at his hair and pulled him in, another wave of that hot scent flooding his lungs, it was over for him. His hips bucked wildly as he fucked into his hand, spilling cum all over himself.
They only vaguely registered the way Battat's legs twitched around them too, far too engulfed in their own pleasure. It took a moment for their ears to stop feeling like they were filled with cotton, instead catching the way the other was panting into the air. Pluey, for their part, just laid there with their eyes closed, absolutely spent. After a few minutes of exhausted silence, they managed to hum out a question.
"Yeah, I think a shower would be nice," Battat mumbled, sounding a little ouf ot it himself.
It took the two of them a few more minutes to actually get themselves to do that, but eventually, they managed to get up and stumble back to the bathroom. After a day like this, it'd be nice to feel all fresh and clean again.