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Will was sleeping peacefully on the bus; head resting against the large window after a 3 game heater where the Sharks took home 2 wins. His peace lasted all of 15 minutes before he felt his seatmate jostle him awake.
“Will,” Macklin whispered. “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” Will groaned in response, turning over to look at Mack with an irritated expression.
Will’s frustration quickly dissipated as soon as he saw Macklin’s face; twisted in discomfort and his posture hunched.
“Are you okay, Mack? Feeling sick?” he asked quickly, his hand immediately finding Macklin’s shoulder, trying to keep his voice low to avoid drawing any unwanted attention from their teammates.
“‘M fine. It’s just—“ Macklin pauses as his cheeks flush bright red before he begins to speak again. “Do you know how long ‘til we get home?”
Will pauses; confused at Mack’s question and wracking his brain for an answer to all of his own.
“Not for a few hours buddy-” he attempts a sympathetic smile, “-are you feeling sick?” he prods again.
Macklin sighs, signifying that this answer was not one that he was looking for. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, turning away from Will.
“I’m okay. I’m just going to try to get some sleep.” Mack grumbled, leaving Will to sit and wonder what could possibly be wrong with his best friend.
—————————————————————
Another hour passed by as Will tried his hardest to ignore Macklin’s incessant movement against his left side; constant shifting in his seat, legs bouncing, and consistent disgruntled noises. Finally, Will couldn’t take being in the dark on this matter anymore.
“Mack,” Will hisses, drawing the younger boy’s attention quickly. “You gotta tell me what’s up, man.”
Macklin looked like he had been caught red-handed; face flushing immediately while he gulped back guilt that he wasn’t completely sure why he was carrying.
“I— uh. I’m just feeling restless,” he lied, though Will was having none of it.
“I call bullshit,” Will rolled his eyes, unable to refrain from the exasperated reaction. “We’ve been on a million bus rides together and I have never seen you this ‘restless’.” He stated factually.
Macklin’s eyes shot down to his lap where his hands mindlessly toyed with the hem of his too-short shorts, trying to avoid the conversation he knew he was going to be forced to have. He could feel Will’s eyes burning into the side of his face.
Finally, he leaned in closer to Will, conceding the facade he had been attempting to put on since they got on the bus.
“Can you keep a secret?”
It was a stupid question. Will is his best friend whom he shares anything and everything with. Which is why he wasn’t surprised when he was met with another eye-roll and a loud sigh.
Will didn’t bother to say anything; his expression pushing Mack to go on.
“I just— God. This is embarrassing,” Mack whispered, pulling yet another exasperated look from Will.
“Spit it out, Mack.” Will whispered back, probably a little too harshly. “You know you can tell me anything,” he added in an attempt to soften the blow.
“I really need to, uh.. go,” he struggled to meet Will’s eyes as he spoke. “Like… desperately.”
Will sat back; confused for a moment before putting the pieces together in his head.
“You have to piss?” he deadpans, and according to Macklin’s reaction, it was probably too loud.
Mack grips at Will’s wrist; squeezing it tightly with a look in his eye that’s begging him to ‘shut the fuck up’.
“Quit being so crass,” he demands in a whispered tone, followed by him bouncing up and down again after no longer having to hide his not-so-secret secret.
“Why wouldn’t you just—“
“It’s out of order, dummy.” Macklin states, cutting Will off before he can finish his thought.
Will takes a moment to crane his neck towards the back of the bus, where he notices a large sign on the washroom door with big red letters that read, ‘OUT OF ORDER’. He looks back at Macklin in his disheveled state, where he currently has his hand shamefully shoved between his thighs in an attempt to keep his composure to the best of his ability.
How had he not noticed that this was the issue?
“Why don’t we just ask the driver to pull over?” Will asks gingerly; voice low in an attempt to conserve Macklin’s privacy.
“That’s so—” Mack began, shifting his eyes towards the rest of the bus to make sure that no one else was paying them any mind; they weren’t. “-embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than pissing yourself?” Will asked genuinely, softening his expression to show that there was no judgement in his words.
Macklin’s face fell; his flush moving up to the tips of his ears, clearly contemplating Will’s valid point. He still couldn’t convince himself to move.
“Give me a sec,” Will told him, pushing himself out of his seat and stepping over Mack before moving towards the front of the bus.
—————————————————————
“Hey, coach,” Will starts, fidgeting awkwardly as Warsofsky turns his attention from the book in his hands towards him. “-uh, is there any way we could, like, pull the bus over in the event of an emergency bathroom break? Or something..”
He found it difficult to meet his coach’s eyes; finally understanding why this had been so hard for Mack. He couldn’t imagine doing this while actually desperate.
“Sorry, Smitty, we’re already behind schedule. We only have an hour left on the trip. You’re a big boy though, you can handle it.”
Not what he was looking for. He could handle it for sure. His best friend on the other hand; he wasn’t as confident.
Will attempted a weak smile and nod before turning and making his way back to his seat. He didn’t want to have to break the news to Mack.
“What did he say?” Macklin pried before Will’s butt had even reached his seat, eyes sparkling with hope.
“It’s uh— It’s not looking good, bud,” he sighed, reaching his hand over and resting it on Macklin’s knee in an attempt to give him some kind of reassurance. He watched as Mack’s face dropped.
“We only have an hour left,” he attempted to reason. “Do you think you can make it?” the last part came out as barely a whisper.
“I don’t really have another choice, do I?” Macklin spat and Will decided to ignore the bite behind his words; knowing the tone wasn’t necessarily directed toward him.
“I’m sorry.” Will whispered, thoughts swimming in his head in an attempt to find something to make this easier on Mack, though he came up with nothing.
“S’fine.” Macklin stated, and his voice nearly broke; grip tightening between his legs before turning away from Will once more.
—————————————————————
It only took about 20 more minutes before Macklin looked completely worse for wear; he was sweating, shaking, and unable to hold still in his chair. Will was starting to wonder if even by some miracle the bus did pull over, if Mack would actually make it to a toilet.
He looked around the bus once more, thankful that almost all of the rest of the team was asleep, save for a few stragglers at the front of the bus who were talking shop with Coach. He took the opportunity to lean in close to Macklin and place another comforting hand on his thigh.
“Maybe you should just let go-“ the ghost of a whisper moved past his lips and he watched Mack’s eyes widen in horror.
“WHAT?” Macklin exclaimed, almost too loud, before slumping down in his seat and immediately correcting his tone. “That’s a terrible plan, Smitty.”
“Well I would rather you just piss yourself than get hurt. You’re clearly in pain; and if we stopped right now do you think you could even stand up and still make it to a washroom?” his words tumbled out before he could stop them, sounding a bit meaner than he meant them to. “-‘s not good for you to hold it like that y’know,” he added, trying to make his statement sound more caring, the way he had originally intended.
Macklin paused for a moment, eyes falling to the iron grip on the front of his shorts, seemingly contemplating Will’s suggestion before speaking again.
“It would get everywhere,” he started, a flush dusting his cheeks again, bright red burning up to the tips of his ears. “-there’s, like, a lot. And pissing myself is one thing.. but pissing on the bus seat, and the floor, and probably you.. is another.”
Will watched as Macklin’s eyes screwed shut and his legs crossed impossibly tighter after the brief thought of release. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest; wishing there was something, anything, he could do to take some of this weight off his best friend.
“I wouldn’t mind it, Mack.” The words rushed out of him before he could stop to think of the weird implications of the statement. “I just really don’t want you getting hurt. You could get like, a UTI, or something..”
Macklin kept his eyes shut, his bottom lip pulled so tightly between his teeth that Will was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood; then a few moments later, although Mack couldn’t see it, Will’s face finally lit up with an idea.
—————————————————————
Macklin pried his eyes open once he began hearing rustling by the pair’s feet, undyingly curious as to what Will could be doing, and hoping for any distraction that could possibly take his mind off of his throbbing bladder. He watches Will’s hunched frame as he makes quick work on the zippers of both of their backpacks before pulling two athletic towels from each of them.
“Do you trust me?” Will whispers as soon as he finds his way back into an upright position.
Macklin looks at him with a bewildered expression for only a second before nodding feverishly. He trusts Smitty with his life, and he can’t deny that he currently needs saving.
Will quickly removes the “Property of San Jose” hoodie he was wearing, reaching over Macklin to create a makeshift door along the aisle for some privacy despite all their teammates around them being asleep. Once he was sure it was secure, he turned his attention back to Mack.
“Switch me seats.”
Macklin’s eyes widened again in horror before moving back to the floor. If someone could die from embarrassment, he’s sure he would.
“I— I don’t think I can move..” he said shamefully, turning his head away from Will once again.
Will stood to his feet quickly, hunching over to avoid drawing any extra attention towards the two of them.
“Then I’m going to move you, ‘kay?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for a response before yanking him by his arm and one leg into his own seat before stepping over him and sitting in the spot Mack had once occupied.
“Lift your butt for a second-” Will commanded gently in a hushed tone seconds after switching seats, immediately noticing Macklin’s hesitancy. “-just real quick.”
Macklin did as he was told; leaning his back against the seat and barely lifting himself on shaky legs, grip still strong on the front of his shorts as Will took the opportunity to slide one of the towels underneath him before patting his thigh gently; signifying it was okay for Mack to lower himself back down.
“Good job,” he commended, trying to comfort Mack in any way he could. “Now spread your legs.”
“I— I can’t dude. I’ll lose it.” Macklin stressed, voice barely above a whisper, and Will’s heart sunk at the way his eyebrows seemed to be permanently knitted together with fear.
“Please, just trust me.” Will pleaded with him.
Macklin looked into his eyes, finding nothing but genuine worry. He does trust him, this is just hard. All he wants, more than anything, is relief, and he knows his best friend wants that for him too; so he goes against the resistance in the front of his mind and follows Will’s instructions.
Macklin squeezes his eyes shut and uncrosses his legs. It takes him a moment before he can convince himself to pry his thighs apart. He gasps as soon as he does, and his eyes shoot open when he feels something wedged between his open legs.
He notices that Will had shoved the balled-up wad of the remaining towels into his crotch and was now looking at him expectantly.
“You can let go..“ Will urged him, anticipating resistance from the younger boy.
“I’m— I’m really nervous dude. This is so embarrassing. I feel like I could die.” Macklin admitted, hanging his head again in shame.
“Don’t worry buddy, you know I got you. I’ll take it to the grave. It’s better if it’s just in front of me, right? Rather than the whole team?” Will encouraged while gingerly taking hold of Mack’s wrists; silently coaxing him to let go of himself.
Macklin nods, avoiding Will’s eyes but knowing he was right— knowing he can trust him. He finally loosens his grip, revealing a sizable wet patch where his hands once were… and nothing happens.
Mack curses lightly under his breath, tears threatening to spill over his eyelashes. Will immediately puts his hand on his back and begins rubbing comforting circles at the sign of his continued discomfort.
“It’s not coming out.” Macklin sighs in defeat; a stray tear rolling down his cheek as he finally brought his head up to meet the other boy’s gaze. “It really hurts, Will.”
“I know buddy. Maybe you held it too long? Do you want me to help you?” Will tries to remain calm, but this was not part of the plan and his anxiety is spiking. He’s never seen his best friend in this state, and all he wants to do is help make him better.
“What do you mean?” Mack asks, voice trembling and hands gripping the seat until his knuckles turn white.
“Still trust me?”
“Obviously.”
That was all Will needed; he placed his right hand on the back of Mack’s neck in an attempt to ground him before using his left to push on the boys bladder, hard.
Macklin gasped and doubled over, but not before Will saw the wet patch on his shorts glisten and grow ever-so-slightly.
“Don’t fight it, Mack. It’s okay,” he cooed. “You’ll feel so much better when this is over.”
Macklin nods again, whimpering as he attempted to straighten back up. Why is it so damn difficult to piss anywhere but a toilet?
“Please.. help me.” he strained; his last bits of composure betraying him as more hot tears slide down his face, staining his cheeks. “Hurts..” he reiderates.
“I’ll take care of you, Mack. I’m going to do it again. Squeeze my leg if it gets to be too much, okay?” Will waits for Macklin to give him some sort of confirmation before proceeding.
When Mack reaches over and places a shaking hand on Will’s knee, he gently reaches over to press his hand against the younger boy’s distended bladder once more.
Instead of one hard push, he decides to massage the area instead; rubbing consistent circles with pressure that’s not harsh enough to hurt him, but definitely enough to get things moving.
He doesn’t stop when he begins to see the wet patch spreading over Macklin’s lap, signifying a very light stream; he only stops when he begins to hear consistent hissing, and sees the bunched up towels tinge with a pale yellow color.
Will tries to convince himself to look away at this point; to give his best friend some sort of privacy, though he can’t force himself to rip his eyes away from the scene in front of him the way his brain is telling him to.
“Ohhhh my God-“ Macklin half-moans, panting as his head falls back onto the seat behind him, unable to feel ashamed for his actions as his body is overcome with overwhelming relief.
Will feels himself blush, knowing he’s intruding on what’s probably the most intimate moment of Mack’s life. He still can’t look away.
He watched as the towels became nearly soaked through, mesmerized by how much liquid his best friend was actually holding. He watched Macklin’s face turn from discomfort to pure bliss. Why can’t he look away?
It wasn’t until he saw the younger boy shudder as he pushed out the last few drops into his shorts that he finally craned his neck up towards the roof of the bus; trying to avoid Mack noticing the way he was ogling him moments before. He doesn’t look back to him until he feels a light squeeze just above his knee, which caused him to realize that Macklin hadn’t ever removed his hand from the spot it had rested in while Will was massaging his bladder.
“I think I’m done..” Macklin whispers shyly once Will’s eyes met his again. “Um, so… now what?”
Will almost misses his question; hardly able to hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. He knows he’s taking far too long to respond.
“Sorry— uh.. I have extra shorts in my backpack. I figured you could just change into those and we can put the soiled ones into my bag ‘til we get home. Nobody will ever notice.” he manages to choke out, and he sees Macklin’s cheeks flush for what feels like the millionth time in the last few hours.
“We can’t put my piss shorts in your bag.” Macklin whispers, his voice just barely there.
“Bro, I have like 10 of these bags at home, and we both have a million pairs of these same shorts. We can just throw everything out when we get back and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.” Will responds convincingly.
Macklin hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”
After the confirmation, Will moves once again to fiddle with his bag; pulling the clean shorts out and resting them in the spot between him and his best friend before opting to transfer his water bottle to Macklin’s bag.
Mack waits patiently, shifting uncomfortably beside him as the fabric around his groin begins to cool and stick to his pale skin.
“I’m going to put these away, okay?” Will asks him gently; gesturing to the wad of drenched towels still pressed between Macklin’s muscular thighs, and Mack winces at the suggestion.
“No, dude. They’re gross. You don’t have to touch those. It’s my mess.. I should clean it up..”
“Dude, it’s just piss. It’s like 95% water anyways. Probably more, knowing you,” Will argues, rolling his eyes.
He reaches for them regardless of Macklin’s previous reluctance. Mack doesn’t stop him.
Will makes quick work of moving the towels from between Mack’s legs into his backpack; he does it fast enough to avoid any argument from the younger boy. He takes the brief moment of Macklin’s disbelief to shove the clean shorts sitting in between them towards his chest.
“Just put these on, okay?”
Macklin stares at him for a long while, though Will refuses to meet his eyes.
Mack finally concedes; he looks around for a moment at nothing in particular before shoving his soiled shorts down his legs, then quickly pulling on the fresh ones that Will had given him.
He shoves his wet garments into the bag where Will had disposed of all of the towels moments before, then moves to zip it. Will still hasn’t looked at him.
“I’m uh… Thank you,” Macklin starts before Will finally moves to meet his eyes.
“It’s no problem.. Really.” Will smiles at Mack in a lighthearted manner; though he states the words in a way that tells Macklin, ‘I would do anything for you’.
“Are you feeling better, bud?”
“Literally, one million percent.”