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Paul squirmed around in his seat for the millionth time that evening, making John worried. But he didn’t say anything, figuring that if Paul wasn’t bringing it up, he didn’t want John to know about it. So he continued sipping his drink, and when he looked back up, Paul was standing.
“Where are you going?” John asked.
“Toilet,” Paul mumbled, and ohn raised his eyebrows. Paul had been at least twice, and he wasn’t going to just sit here and pretend like nothing’s wrong.
“No, wait, hold on. You’ve been twice already. What could you possibly be doing in there?”
“... Going to the toilet.” John didn’t say anything more, and Paul hurried off. He was back in a few minutes, and John was finally able to settle down a little bit. Maybe-- but Paul squirmed again.
“Paul, what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”
“Nothing,” Paul replied too quickly, and John glared at him. Paul gasped and bent over, grabbing his crotch, and John cocked an eyebrow in shock. The younger man got up and started to leave again, but John grabbed his arm.
“Paul,” he said sternly. “What are you doing in there?”
“I told you! Going to the toilet.” John stared at him knowingly. “I’m… trying to go to the toilet.”
“What do you mean? Is everything alright?” Paul blushed and walked away, John getting up and following him. When Paul got to the urinal, he pulled himself out and stood there, but nothing happened.
“Dammit, come on,” Paul whispered to himself.
“Paul? What’s wrong?”
The bassist jumped. “John, what the hell? What are you doing in here?”
“I’m worried about you? Is that so bad?’
“Well, stop being worried and go sit down at the table. I’m fine.”
“You’re not… please let me help you.”
Paul put himself back away and turned to look at John, tears already coming down his face. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I have to go, but I can’t when I try.”
John got closer to him, worry growing. “Do you think it’s an infection or something?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Paul’s abdomen from behind.
“No,” Paul replied shyly, leaning into the older man, completely trusting him. “I always get like this.”
“Well, I’m sure we can take care of it, okay?” He tightened his arms just a but, and Paul gasped at the added pressure.
“John, what are you doing?”
“I told you we’re going to take care of it. Why don’t you pull yourself out, I’m gonna try to relax you, okay?”
“O-okay. Don’t hurt me please, John.” He pulled his cock out of his pants and aimed at the urinal.
“I would never, sweetie. If I do, tell me so that I can stop, okay?” When Paul nodded, John began pushing on his bladder ever so slightly. Paul froze up, but eventually, John’s big, warm hands on his bare skin was enough to relax him a little.
When a spurt of piss came out and splashed against the back of the urinal, Paul froze again.
“It’s okay, Paul. Let it out. You’ll feel a lot better, yeah?” Suddenly, he started pissing hard, and John didn’t move his hands. He closed his eyes, hugging his boyfriend as he let go, glad he was able to finally go.
When Paul was finally finished, he put himself away and leaned back into John. “I love you so much, Johnny. Thank you.”
“I love you, too, Paul. Anything for you.” Paul smiled and turned around to kiss him, but John backed away. “Wash your hands first. Then kisses.”