Work Text:
Ilya and Shane were in the midst of a sexual renaissance. They had been for at least three months. In the wake of discovering the possibilities of pleasure that their bladders contained, their sex life had heated up ten-fold, become active and passionate in a way it had not been since the first years of their committed relationship. They were not having bad sex before, but after so many years together there were only so many new toys to try, only so many ways to get each other off. Undeniably, they had fallen into a routine. Not anymore. If their sex life was a house, their piss kinks were like a second floor that they had just found the stairs to.
They still had normal sex, or what Shane had come to call ‘dry’ sex only because Ilya had nearly laughed him out of the bedroom when he tried to call their pre-piss sex vanilla. But even after dry sex, when they used to take turns peeing over the toilet, they found themselves relieving their bladders on one another in the shower, just because they could. Just because it felt good, it felt right to do it then and there.
The complimentary ‘wet’ sex took more planning, prep, and now clean up since they had graduated from doing everything in the shower. While keeping things to the bathroom had certainly been convenient, their desires had clearly out-grown the tiled box. It was Ilya who insisted they expand their playing field after Shane had more or less collapsed in his arms that one time. As hot as that evening had been, Ilya was looking for a repeat performance that was more comfortable for the both of them.
At first Shane was resistant to the idea of taking things to their bed. It was messy, dirty, wet. He wrinkled his nose at the idea, moaned about the clean up even when Ilya volunteered to take care of everything. Ilya even suggested using towels and doggy pee pads, some of which they still had left over from Anya’s first weeks at home, but these ideas Shane liked even less. However Ilya knew that all he really had to do was plant the seed in Shane’s mind and wait for it to grow.
Sure enough, within a week there was a package on their doorstep. Ilya got to it first.
“New sheets?” he asked, opening the box on the counter and pulling out a corner of fabric from it. “Do we not have enough already?” Shane shot him his best disapproving husband glare and pulled the bundle towards himself.
“These are special,” he said in a somewhat self-righteous tone.
“Special?” Ilya narrowed his eyes. Shane nodded, but his posturing dropped ever so slightly.
“They won't stain as easily.”
Ilya furrowed his brow for a second, confused before things clicked.
“Ah.” A dirty grin spread across his face. “No, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He was rounding the counter slowly. Shane was growing redder with each step, but there was a poorly suppressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“A waterproof mattress cover is arriving tomorrow,” he confessed cheekily. Ilya was upon him, crowding him against the counter, a hair’s breadth away but not kissing him yet.
“Tomorrow, huh?” His breath ghosted across Shane’s cheek. “Can you hold it that long?”
That was a month ago. Shane had not made it to the next day, though Ilya had toyed with him in the shower for a torturously long time that night. Since then, they had made ample use of Shane’s purchases. He was laying against them now, solid navy blue silhouetting his pink-flushed body, his spread legs as Ilya kneeled between them, pushing inside of him.
Ilya was going slow, trying not to excite himself too much. His cock was only half hard, and even with the copious amounts of lube Shane had used to open himself up, it was difficult to coax his sex inside. It would have been easier for Ilya to just pull out and stroke himself a good few times before plunging back in, but they were trying something new today, something different.
“Ready?” Ilya asked, once he had managed to work his way into Shane’s hole, his hips flush with his husbands. Shane nodded, his body teeming with anticipation. Ilya exhaled slowly.
Relieving himself inside Shane had been Ilya’s idea. In truth, it had been a joint effort. It had begun, as most things did, with a simple question.
“Have you ever tried holding?” Shane asked him during a post-coital cuddle session. His hand rested over Ilya’s lower stomach, fingers playing with his happy trail. Usually Shane was the desperate one during sex, purposefully filling his bladder to its limits. Shane liked to be peed on sometimes, and Ilya liked peeing on Shane, so he always made sure he was hydrated enough to do the job. But not like Shane did.
“No,” Ilya replied softly.
“Do you want to?”
He mulled over the question. Ilya loved when Shane was desperate. He loved how he squirmed and begged and leaked, loved how much he obviously got off on holding his pee, loved how hard it made him cum on his cock. Shane certainly made it look enjoyable. Ilya liked relieving himself in these new, erotic contexts. He loved doing it with Shane. But he was fairly confident he preferred holding the reins.
“I want to control it,” he said. Shane smiled softly against his chest.
“I think that’s the whole point," he replied.
Ilya had never looked at it like that. Perhaps because Shane had always given up his control to Ilya, he had never considered that the experience could be a two way street. He was still skeptical, admittedly nervous, about the idea of holding his pee. Even if it was pleasurable, the experience seemed unbearably vulnerable. And it teetered on the edge of out-of-control that Ilya tended to shy away from. Maybe one day when he felt more secure. For now, everything was too new, too experimental to introduce another variable. But Shane’s proposition gave him other ideas, reminded him of the potentials of his own bladder.
“Can I pee in you?” he blurted out one morning, finally confident enough to give voice to the desire that he had been fostering since their conversation.
Shane was halfway through brushing his teeth, and he looked at Ilya dumbfounded. They had just woken up and were getting ready for practice. Usually, they talked about their sex life at more opportune, tender moments.
“What, now?” Shane asked, words garbled through the toothpaste.
“No,” Ilya said, a little too embarrassed to tease Shane about his very literal interpretation of the question.
“Oh,” Shane said, recovering from his shock and taking in his husband's timid posture. A sly grin tugged at his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed, amused. “Why not?”
Which had led them to this moment, Ilya’s cock buried deep inside Shane, his bladder full, poised to empty itself inside his husband. But nothing was coming out. Ilya took slow, controlled breaths again, willing his pelvic floor to release. But it would not. He was too excited now. The anticipation and arrangement was so arousing Ilya was now too hard to pee.
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Not so easy is it?” Shane taunted, referring back to that hot, revelatory night in the en suite bathroom. He wriggled his hips, teasing Ilya’s cock.
“Shut up Hollander,” he said breathlessly, shooting his stupidly hot husband a murderous look. He badly wanted this to work. He pinned Shane’s hips down with one hand and knitted his brows together in concentration. It might be easier to fuck him first, cum, and then pee, but Ilya had a vision, and he was not one to back down from a challenge. Shane watched him struggle, amused but sympathetic.
“You have to relax,” he said.
“M’ trying,” Ilya replied through gritted teeth, but he was getting even more worked up. Shane reached forward to brush Ilya’s cheek.
“Stop trying. Just let go.”
Ilya looked at him, exasperated. But he listened. He shifted, bracing his hands on either side of Shane’s torso so he was leaning forward, taking the weight off his lower body, sagging his hips even if it made him pull out a little.
Shane bit his lips at the movement, cheeks flushed, unbelievably sensuous. Exactly what Ilya did not need distracting him right now. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and willed his muscles to release, breathing slow and evenly.
Shane watched, enraptured. He had been in Ilya’s position many times over now, hard and desperate for relief. But it was a whole other experience watching Ilya go through the same motions. It made Shane’s cock twitch, and he had to will himself not to clench down on Ilya. Above him, his husband inhaled and exhaled, steady and controlled, as if he had finally decided to try Shane’s yoga routine. Another breath, and his brow unfurrowed. On the next exhale, he sighed softly. Then,
“Oh,” Shane said. Alongside the sensation of Ilya inside him was something new. At first it felt like Ilya was just getting hard again, taking up more space inside him. But as Ilya’s body visibly relaxed, the stretch grew.
“Oh,” he moaned as Ilya managed to release his bladder and piss trickled in. Shane could actually feel the fluid inside him, warm as it began to fill his insides. Relief was etched across Ilya’s face, and Shane rubbed his shoulders gently, encouraging him to let go completely. He had not known what exactly to expect from the experience, but this was different, more tender and intimate than he had pictured.
“Ah,” Ilya half sighed, half moaned, pressing further into Shane.
The slow trickle inside of him began to grow into a flood. There was a stretch in his hole, which all of a sudden became a bloat as Ilya unleashed his full stream into his husband. Shane opened his mouth to tell him to slow down before the feeling became uncomfortable, but just as he did so piss dribbled out involuntarily, running down the crease of his ass. Shane instinctively clenched his hole to contain the leaks, but this only sent another wave spurting out, splashing Ilya’s balls. Arousal flared in his stomach.
“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya groaned above him, eyes still closed but mouth open with pleasure. “Fucking take my piss.” He pressed forward, the intrusion pushing out another cascade of piss.
“It’s so much, I can’t hold it,” Shane panted as pee continued to leak out. The feeling was unreal. It was incredibly erotic. He could not resist reaching down to stoke his rock solid cock.
Feeling Shane’s hand leave his shoulder, Ilya finally opened his eyes. He was met with the sight of Shane, flushed and intoxicated with lust, getting himself off as Ilya relieved his bladder inside his ass. In spite of the piss that filled him up, Shane felt Ilya’s cock jump inside him.
“Fuck,” Ilya blurted, voice slurred with arousal. “Fuck, Shane,” he moaned, enraptured as he glanced down and watched his piss splash out.
The sight of Ilya so undone was one he would not soon forget. Shane probably could have finished himself off right then and there at the view. But there was more he wanted from his husband tonight. More they had planned.
“Fuck me,” he said breathlessly.
Ilya stared at him, mouth still agape, smitten and completely lost in pleasure. Shane’s head was spinning. He needed this more than anything else, needed it right now.
“You are hard again already, right? Fuck me,” Shane repeated. The authority in his own voice surprised him. He almost sounded like Ilya, but his words were not a command. They were a plea.
Something ignited behind Ilya’s eyes. His gaze sharpened, and in one swift movement he ripped Shane’s hand from where he was pleasuring himself and pinned it to the bed above his head. Shane inhaled sharply. Ilya grabbed his other arm and trapped it in the same manner before diving down to attack Shane’s mouth with his own. He pressed his tongue deep inside, claiming Shane’s breath as his own. Then he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward.
Piss sprayed out in a greater volume then before, some of it splashing up onto Shane’s balls. Shane made a strangled noise as Ilya moaned into his mouth. Ilya pistoned his hips again, and another gush of piss sloshed out, making an obscenely hot sound as it did. Ilya was bent nearly all the way over Shane, one hand pinning both wrists, the other holding himself up while his gaze locked onto where their bodies were connected. His breathing was ragged, like it was when he was on the edge of orgasm.
He thrust forward a few more times, then pushed himself up so he was kneeling between Shane’s hips. Shane propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch as Ilya pulled out, a waterfall of piss following in his wake. They both watched as it gushed out and over Ilya’s cock, onto the bed beneath, before Shane clamped down and stopped the flow.
“Fuck thats hot,” Shane groaned, feeling the press of Ilya’s piss against his rim as his husband tapped the head of his cock against his clenched asshole. Shane took the opportunity to push out a spurt of piss onto Ilya’s erection, grunting softly with the effort. Ilya’s face contorted with awe and pleasure.
“Yes, push it out,” he gasped, spreading Shane’s cheeks and pressing his cock right up to his entrance. “Push out my piss.”
Shane obliged, relaxing his hole and letting the piss flow out in a controlled stream. Ilya stroked himself in the flow, coating his whole cock, until Shane clenched again. Both of their groins were soaked, pubic hair slicked with a mixture of lube and piss. Shane could feel a wet puddle underneath his ass, warm and pungent. He made to let more piss loose, but Ilya stopped him.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing the lube and smearing some more on Shane’s entrance and his cock. The piss had washed it off. Then he plunged back inside greedily, pushing out piss and punching out a gasp from Shane. Ilya leaned forward again, bracketing Shane’s body with his arms as he thrust forward, each snap of his hips forcing another gush out. Shane’s breath came in pants, overwhelmed by the sensation.
“Fuck me, fuck it out,” he said when he found his voice again. Ilya drilled into him like his life depended on it. Their bedroom filled with the obscene squelching sounds, punctuated by Shane’s gasps, Ilya’s occasional grunts.
All to soon there was no more piss left to fuck out. Ilya collapsed over Shane, plunging his teeth into Shane’s neck, shifting the angle of his hips so his next thrust hit Shane’s prostate head on, ravaging him. All Shane could do was make the same choked ungh noise repetitively as he barreled towards his climax.
“Ilya,” he moaned, chanting his husband’s name like a mantra into his neck. Ilya breathed choppily next to his ear, and Shane knew it was taking every fiber of his being to not cum right then, to fuck Shane to completion first. The devotion, the desperation drove Shane over the cliff.
His back arched off the bed and his legs spasmed, scrambled for purchase as his orgasm exploded. His cock jumped, spitting hot cum onto their stomachs. A cry of pleasure tore from his throat as he squirmed and gripped the sheets.
“Shane,” Ilya gasped, his hips stuttering. He grabbed a fistful of Shane’s hair, gripping so tight it would have hurt if Shane was not deeply lost in his own orgasm. Then Ilya pressed in deep and let out a strangled groan, rocking his hips forward as he climaxed, cock thrashing against Shane’s walls.
Shane grabbed onto his arms, kissed where he could reach as Ilya came inside of him. It was not everyday he came like a wave crashing down in a storm. As he rode through his orgasm, his thighs trembled with exertion and pleasure. Shane wrapped his own legs around Ilya’s hips, pressing him closer, quietly telling him to let go.
A small oof escaped Shane as all 220 pounds of his fucked out husband landed on his chest. Ilya panted into his neck, oblivious and spent, his cock still spasming occasionally inside Shane. Shane stroked his curls, ran hands down his back as Ilya came down from the high. Just when he thought he was finally done, Ilya let out a quiet, low groan. Shane felt something more, something warm spill inside him.
“Fuck,” he gasped quietly as Ilya relieved the last content’s of his bladder inside him. Ilya nuzzled into Shane’s neck, kissing him softly as his stream tapered off.
“Moy lyubimiy,” he muttered into his jaw line. Shane smiled, feeling both adored and amused at his husband’s sappyness.
“Feel good?” he asked, voice teasing.
Ilya nodded, exhausted, as he continued to lay kisses over Shane’s neck, his face, working his way to his lips. When he found them, he held a long kiss there. Shane melted into it, wrapped his arms around Ilya’s shoulders tight. When they broke apart, Shane chased another quick peck before speaking.
“We are very gross,” he said, unable to bear the now-cold puddle of pee beneath his lower body any longer. Ilya grunted in acknowledgement and rolled off him slowly, sliding his mostly-soft cock out easily. It was followed by a gush of cum and pee, the obscene mixture leaking out of Shane and onto the sheets below.
“Oh my god,” Shane said, catching sight of the mess. Both their lower bodies were smeared with pee, lube, and now semen. Beyond that, the bed was soaked. A dark puddle spread out from where their hips had been joined. Ilya was kneeling next to the puddle, sweaty and sloppy, his hair a mess. Shane felt embarrassment bloom hot in his chest and cheeks. Ilya caught Shane’s eye.
“Is only a little bit to clean, yes?”
In spite of his growing mortification Shane barked out a laugh at the sheer understatement, at his husbands disheveled demeanour. He was sure he looked no better, and sure enough a grin broke out on Ilya’s face and he chuckled warmly, a sound which quickly grew into a deeper and genuine laugh. The joy was contagious, and soon Shane too was laughing earnestly, his shame forgotten.
Ilya’s smile grew with his laugh, and he dove forward to tackle Shane onto the bed, tickling his sides and nuzzling into his face. Shane giggled and shrieked and batted at Ilya’s hands halfheartedly.
“Stop, stop,” he said, breathless, “I’ll pee!”
“Please do!” Ilya said dramatically, gesturing to the massive damp spot on their bed. Shane dropped his head back and laughed harder at the absurdity of it all, shoulders shaking. Ilya grinned and kissed him all over with exaggerated mwahs until he cut off Shane’s happy cries with a deep, filthy kiss.
“I love you,” Shane said with a big, stupid, love-struck grin when they broke apart. Ilya looked at him with pure adoration.
“I love you more,” he replied, and before Shane could find a rebuttal, he scooped him up bridal style, and turned towards the bathroom. “Come, let us clean up.”
Shane surrendered and looped his hands around Ilya’s shoulders. He leaned his head against Ilya’s chest, listening to his heart beat. He was the luckiest man in the whole world.