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Hajime didn’t know what it was about Nagito that made him want to stay. Komaeda was weird. He talked for hours about hope, despair, or any other vague concept he could, sometimes for hours on end if he weren’t interrupted. Even that morning he’d started on about the concept of the body—and more specifically how his vessel was one to be used—which had turned most in the vicinity off from eating breakfast.
And yet, when Hajime found him sitting on the beach that night, his first instinct was to kick off his shoes and trudge through the soft sand until he was at Komaeda’s side. He sat down, burying his feet in the sand, and it was only then that the other seemed to notice him.
“Good evening Hinata-kun.” Nagito said softly, the faintest hints of a smile crossing his face as his dim green eyes met Hajime’s brighter multi-colored ones. He looked serene there in the first light of the moon, ever graceful and sometimes alarmingly calm. “You’re usually not out after dark unless there’s a party going on. Why do I get the privilege of sitting beside you tonight?”
He decided not to comment on the fact that Nagito knew when he usually retreated to his cottage for the night, instead tilting his head at Nagito’s insistence that his presence was a privilege. “I wasn’t tired yet.” He shrugged, looking back towards the shallow waves that rolled against the shore. “I thought taking a walk along the beach would wear me out a bit, and then I saw you.”
From the corner of his eye he could see Nagito’s angel white hair bounce as he gave a small thoughtful nod. “Hinata-kun’s mind is troubled.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Hajime waved off that observation quickly. He drew his knees to his chest, hugging his calves in the quickly cooling night air. “Why are you out here?”
“I was just thinking.” Komaeda said cheerfully. Contrary to Hajime he was spread out on the beach, his hands behind him as his legs seemed to stretch towards the water. And when Hajime remained quiet he continued. “About how lucky I am to be here, and to be alive. It seems unfair that somebody as useless as me got a second chance at life after dying. I thought suicide was a sin, Hinata-kun, I deserve to be rotting in hell right now. But instead I’m sitting here with you, the embodiment of hope and strength! I truly don’t deserve to be in your presence!”
He laughed, quiet and clear in comparison to the rasp of his voice. “Perhaps I should give you the beach to yourself, Hinata-kun. I’m only ruining the atmosphere with my lowly self! I shouldn’t even get to see these stars!”
In his stunned silence, the first thing Hajime registered was that the stars were indeed beginning to show. His brow furrowed, and when he finally turned to look at Nagito with a frustrated glare the pale boy was already starting to get to his feet and brush the sand off his black jeans.
“Stay.” He muttered, grabbing Nagito’s wrist. “Komaeda we’ve been over this. I don’t think you’re worthless.”
Komaeda seemed a little stunned, but he settled back down on the sand in his same outstretched, relaxed position. “You’re such a forgiving person Hinata-kun, sometimes I forget you’re not out to kill me anymore! Although this would be the perfect time if you still wanted to!”
“I’m not going to kill you!” The brunette scowled. “I never was!”
“Then perhaps you’re trying to break my wrist?” Komaeda offered. “Leaving me on the beach broken and in pain but alive to feel every bit of the agony!”
He realized that he was still gripping Nagito’s wrist. His skin was so pale compared to Hajime’s sun-tanned strong hands, Hajime vaguely wondered how he’d managed to avoid burning under the island sun for so long.
Suddenly he felt like he was the one burning as he let go, and he was sure his face showed the redness that he felt in his cheeks. He’d been holding Nagito so tightly it was obvious even to him why he had suggested that his wrist might break.
“No!” He cried, burying his face in his knees. “I— I was just making sure you were actually going to stay.”
“If you insist, Hinata-kun.”
He was sure Nagito’s cool tone would be the death of him. Each soft rasp as he spoke his name sent his heart hammering.
“I mean.” Hajime started, looking down at his toes as they curled in the pale sand. “I’m not insisting. You can go if you want, but I want you to stay. I don’t want you to feel like you’re a burden on my presence you know? We’re working through all that, right?”
“Then I guess I should thank you.” Came Nagito’s simple answer. “For spending this time with me.”
They spent the next hour talking, the conversation shifting along with their thoughts. Hajime found himself enjoying the company, and even despite Nagito’s tendency to go on about the oddest things, he couldn’t stop listening. In fact, the way Nagito perceived the world was refreshing. He had such faith in everyone, even after they’d participated in the cruelest of games. And that included Hajime.
He found himself blushing when Nagito praised him, lowering his head to hide the brilliant scarlet that crossed his cheeks. How could Nagito be so calm as he spoke when he said that Hajime gave him the most hope out of the group. That his talents were the best, and the most intriguing, all right in front of the man in question. Hajime couldn’t take it anymore.
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” Hajime said when there was a lull in the conversation. “It’s nothing against you, I just got so relaxed I’m starting to drift off… do you want to go back to the cottages with me?”
He pushed himself to his feet, brushing the sand off his pants and hands before offering his palm down to Komaeda. The paler man just smiled, tilting his head and giving a rather sad smile.
“I don’t think I can get up, Hinata-kun. But thank you for talking with me! That was the longest conversation I’ve had with anyone since we arrived here!” He waved his hand dismissively, looking back at the ocean. His avoidance of Hajime’s gaze was deliberate now, his eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at the scenery, the stars, anywhere except Hajime.
Hajime laughed into the cool night air. “What’s wrong? I thought we were having a good time.”
“The best, Hinata-kun.” Nagito assured, his voice never wavering. “I’m just afraid if I stand up I’ll lose control completely in front of you. That would be humiliating wouldn’t it? Although I suppose it’s what trash like me deserves.”
“Lose control?” Hajime repeated. His throat suddenly felt dry, and he had to swallow back an unnerved feeling. Komaeda’s tone hadn’t changed at all, but his heart suddenly felt like it was clenching inside his chest. “What could you lose control of here?”
This time it was Nagito’s turn to laugh. It was a bit strained this time, but filled Hajime’s mind all the same.
“My bladder, Hinata-kun.”
How could he be so calm about that? Hajime’s mind reeled as he stared in disbelief at the young man sitting in the sand. Maybe he hadn’t heard right. Or maybe Nagito of all people was playing a prank on him. All his thoughts accumulated into a pitiful, “huh?”
“My internal organs are just as weak as my external appearance would suggest.” Nagito laughed briskly. “I’ve never been able to hold off my urges for very long. It’s only fitting for me though. How shameful.”
He’d been stupid not to realize it sooner. Sometime during their conversation, Nagito had drawn his knees to his chest, squeezing his thighs together slightly. Even now his fingers tapped a frantic and loose rhythm against his shin. His face remained calm though, almost scarily so.
Hajime screwed up his face. “Why didn’t you go? I wouldn’t have minded if you needed to break for a piss!”
“You told me to stay.” Nagito said innocently.
Hajime cursed himself mentally. Nagito was obedient to a fault. As long as the people surrounding him were happy, he left his own emotions and needs unchecked. Of course, Hajime couldn’t have known he needed the bathroom, but he still felt responsible for the pitiful scene playing out in front of him.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered. “Here, let me help you up.”
“You really don’t have to!” Nagito smiled wider, raising his hands meekly in front of him. “Really Hinata-kun, your company is more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Your assistance with such a problem is just too much!”
He darted for the opportunity to grab Nagito’s raised hand, ready to pull him up. “You stayed because I told you to, right? Well now you’re gonna get up because I said so! Come on!”
Nagito reluctantly gripped Hajime’s hand tighter, full on groaning as he got to his feet. He doubled over almost as soon as he was standing, his hand scrambling over the front of his jeans to squeeze himself until he could straighten up. Even then his hand hovered in front of his crotch, ready to grab himself again if necessary.
“If you insist.” He said weakly, forcing a smile as the full weight of his bladder shifted inside of him. “I’ll go wherever you tell me, Hinata-kun.”
“We’re not going far.” Hajime assured. “You see those bushes up there by the path? That’s all. It’s just a bit of cover, yeah? Watering the plants.”
Nagito laughed dryly. “Please don’t talk about water Hinata-kun. Unless you want me to piss myself.”
Hajime shook his head fiercely, squeezing Nagito’s hand. “Alright, alright. I get it. Just come with me.”
Nagito’s first step was pitiful. His thighs were stiff and his leg barely extended away from his hip. It was more a shuffle than anything, given that his foot barely raised out of the sand.
“Come on.” Hajime hissed. “We’re never going to make it if you’re that slow. You can do it Komaeda.”
Nagito shook his head, even as Hajime forced him to take another small step up the beach. “I’m never going to make it.”
“You will!” Hajime protested, a bit louder than he meant. He immediately regretted it, with the way Nagito jumped and went rigid.
“I’ve already leaked.” Nagito admitted quietly, his thighs snapping together. “I’m not going to make it to the bushes. That’s so unlucky isn’t it… ahaha! Of course it’s what I deserve! Somebody like me can’t even hold their own bladder! I truly am the worst! And you have to see it! I pity you Hinata-kun, putting up with me for so long only to see me in such a miserable position!”
His eyes were wide and his lips contorted into a grin as he rambled. He was staring off at the palm tree dotted skyline, not focusing on much of anything as his eyes darted back and forth. They almost rolled back in his head as he gave a particularly loud gasp, which was a direct result of a warm torrent of piss forcing its way out of his urethra, wetting his pants in the front.
Hajime’s mind backfired when he saw the first streak of wetness appear on Komaeda’s dark jeans. He knew he wouldn’t be able to coax him any further, with the way his body tensed. So he did the next logical thing that came to his mind.
He unzipped Nagito’s jeans, fingers shaking around the button until it popped out of its hole and came open.
Nagito’s boxers were in bad shape. The gray plaid fabric had been darkened, and now shimmered in the moonlight. He could see where the piss was escaping, it had soaked his boxers enough to leave an obvious outline of his entire soft cock, where the wetness had clung to his skin. And he could see every time another spurt escaped, beading through the fabric in hot jets before it absorbed back into the material or dripped into Nagito’s jeans.
“Hinata-kun?” Nagito breathed, his fingers digging into Hajime’s shoulder like claws.
Hajime didn’t respond, more focused on his shaking hands and the mild ache from Nagito’s deceivingly strong grip. His fingers brushed over the front of Nagito’s boxers on his way up, definitely getting coated in piss as he gripped the waistband of the underwear.
“Hinata!” Komaeda cried, looking down in shock as his dick was exposed to the brisk air.
With Nagito’s pants and boxers around his thighs, Hajime’s hand wrapped around his cock. Just in time to, because as he was raising Nagito’s member away from his underwear, the full force of his release hit hard and fast.
The stream arched high in the air, a heavy, forceful jet of hot piss that caught and reflected the moonlight at every angle. And Hajime couldn’t help but to stare.
He told himself it didn’t mean anything, that he was only watching because he had to. But Komaeda was moaning in his ear, which didn’t help his rapt fascination.
His ragged, fast breaths and low whimpers almost distracted from the noise his piss made as it hit the sand. It was a sick splattering noise, wetting the fine grains and trailing around their feet once the ground had become too saturated to absorb the stream. The wetting of the sand was much less pleasant than the ocean, sounding heavy and inescapable, a seemingly permanent reminder of the way Nagito soiled the beach.
Hajime’s hand was wet too. He hadn’t had the time to give it much thought as he was scrambling to help Nagito, but now as he watched the stream flow his mind couldn’t help but to wander. A few stray drops and the wetness from Nagito’s boxers had completely drenched his hand.
“Hahhh…. Hajime!” Nagito moaned. “I’m sorry, you must be—ah—truly disgusted by me! But it feels so good I can’t stop. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think my pathetic body would be able to!”
“Um.” The brunette couldn’t even respond. He was too focused on pressing his own thighs together, trying to focus on fighting back his own boner. His mind was a mantra of disgust and confusion, but somehow the most clear thought that came through was how much he enjoyed hearing Nagito moan his name.
“Hajime.” Nagito groaned again. “Hajime, Hajime! There’s so much of it! I’m sorry!”
Hajime nodded, swallowing dryly. It really did just keep coming. As soon as it looked like the stream was slowing down in volume Nagito would give a little shudder and push even more out of him until his piss had returned to the same strong flow it had begun as. The on and off of its power was sending more drops flying, wetting his pants below.
The sand too had become so saturated now that a puddle was forming at the end of the arc. It was just deep enough to reflect the moon and the stars between the frothy bubbles and the ripple of the continued waterfall.
He couldn’t move it away though. Just like Nagito, it seemed his body had locked up. He just had to stare at Nagito’s cock, which was warm in his hand, watching the mostly clear pee flow from his urethra with a sick fascination.
Hajime was definitely hard. He couldn’t explain it, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it, but Nagito’s current state had given him the worst erection he could ever remember. Then again his memory was backfiring him, with only the present moment searing into his mind.
It seemed like it took forever for the stream to end, though in reality it was only around a minute that the pair stood there. That was all it had taken for Hajime to flush red though.
He gave Nagito’s dick a few shakes, or rather a few intimate strokes, getting those last few drops out the best he could. He knew it didn’t really matter though, since Nagito’s boxers had completely been soaked through at that point. Then he let go, letting the pale man’s semi hard-on bob freely in the night air.
He hadn’t even felt Nagito’s dick rising in his hands. Had he been hard even before Hajime’s help? He shuddered again at the thought.
“I’m sorry.” Nagito said plainly, tucking himself away and zipping his wet jeans back up. Hajime thought it must be uncomfortable, but Nagito didn’t seem to care at all. He just zipped his jacket up, the long article of clothing covering his shame. “Thank you for your help, it’s really more than I deserve. Goodnight, Hinata-kun.”
So they were back to formalities. Hajime sighed softly.
“Goodnight Nagito. You’re welcome.”
The slender figure waved, already disappearing off in the direction of the cottages without another word. Hajime watched him go, the same awkward silence staying with him on the beach.
He stayed long enough to see the saturated sand finally absorb all of Nagito’s piss, and even longer as he watched the little splashes that hadn’t made it to the main puddle dry up. They left small indents in the sand, and come the morning they’d be gone with the tide or beneath a pair of feet, but staring now made Hajime feel like part of some dirty secret. One that made his cock ache desperately for attention in the confines of his jeans.
Honestly if Nagito hadn’t left, he wasn’t sure he could’ve resisted whipping his dick out and masturbating to the mess he’d made like some wild pervert. But alone he was able to control himself.
At least enough to get back to his cottage before he shoved his hand down his pants and got himself off in a desperate, quick masturbation session.
Komaeda was weird. But perhaps Hajime was just as strange.