Work Text:
Makoto was jealous. He was jealous of every single one of his teammates, all of which were relaxed enough to be sleeping as they traveled on the bus back to Iwatobi. Makoto wished he could sleep, worn out beyond words from swimming multiple events in the competition, but of course Makoto instead had to focus on his bladder.
Usually, Makoto was very careful about always using the bathroom just before getting on the bus. He was well aware of his weak bladder, and although no one ever complained when he had to ask to stop, he still despised holding everybody else up. None of them ever seemed to need to get off the bus with him whenever they were forced to stop.
Today, Makoto was determined to simply hold it. Even though he already had his hands jammed between his legs. Even though it was taking all his power not to start squirming. Even though he was having to bite back whimpers and moans every few seconds.
The last thing he wanted was for his desperate vocalizations to wake his friends, and he couldn’t even wriggle about to try to relieve some of the pressure, because today, Haru had decided the best place to fall asleep was on Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto didn’t want to lose the comforting heat of Haru’s body pressing into his side.
Makoto was cursing his earlier decision to skip his bathroom visit immediately before boarding the bus after the competition. He had convinced himself at the time it wasn’t necessary. After all, he had made a trip to the toilet no more than thirty minutes before leaving. He’d been sure that had been more than enough to keep further desperation away, but clearly, he had been mistaken.
He shifted just slightly in his seat, tensing his thighs and tightening the hold his hands had on his groin, biting his lip to hold back what he was sure would’ve been a pitiful whine.The tiny movement though was enough to disturb Haru, however slightly, the dark-haired boy letting out a tiny murmur and nuzzling his face into Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto stilled, even going so far as to hold his breath until he was sure Haru had settled back down into slumber.
Exhaling slowly, Makoto closed his eyes, relieved that Haru hadn’t been woken. That relief didn’t last long though, his thoughts immediately pulled back to his heavy, pulsing bladder. This level of pressure in his bladder was usually Makoto’s limit. On all previous bus rides, he would’ve given in and requested a stop at this point, but now, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. He couldn’t get up and ask the driver personally, because he would surely wake Haru. He couldn’t yell across the bus, because that would wake everybody.
And so, Makoto suffered in silence.
With every throb of his bladder, Makoto’s grip on his crotch grew tighter and tighter. He wanted so badly to squirm around in an attempt to relieve the pressure, but Haru…He couldn’t wake Haru. He treasured every moment that showed him the deep trust his best friend held for him, and he was not going to allow his bladder, of all things, to ruin this.
He looked to the side, tilting his head down to look at Haru himself, but was only able to see the top of his head. The calm, gentle breaths Haru exhaled were a great contrast to the sharp wheezes leaving Makoto’s own lungs. Makoto felt that if he took too large of a breath, the air in his chest would take up too much space in his abdomen and force his overfull bladder to spill. Tight, controlled breaths were necessary here, Makoto kept telling himself. Besides, the smaller his inhales, the less his body would move and less movement meant less possibility he would wake Haru.
But then, if he did wake Haru, his problem might be solved, wouldn’t it? Haru would surely find some way to help him.
Makoto, whether for better or for worse, didn’t have much time to contemplate that, because a sudden convulsion of his bladder—accompanied by the tiniest of leaks escaping into his underwear—caused him to fold forward just enough to jostle Haru off of his shoulder, Haru’s entire body tilting forward until his head fell into Makoto’s lap.
With a panicked squeak, Makoto scrambled to hold himself tighter after another, longer leak sneaked out. Haru’s head had brushed his distended stomach, and Makoto had felt the painful vibrations of that slight pressure all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, and okay, maybe he had to go even worse than he’d thought.
Haru was sitting up now, still clearly foggy with sleep and running a hand through his hair as he looked up at Makoto. His gaze was confused at first, but his eyes soon widened with clear concern as he noticed Makoto was biting his lip and furrowing his brow.
“Makoto,” Haru said.
“Nothing’s wrong, Haru! I’m fine, really. I just have to use the bathroom.” Makoto attempted to let out a laugh, wanting to reassure Haru that he really was fine, but the sound devolved into more of a choked moan, and the taller boy dropped his head so Haru could no longer see his face.
“I’ll ask to stop.” Haru was already standing, sliding sideways to get out of the bus seat, but Makoto yanked a hand from between his legs in order to grab Haru’s shirt and pull him back down.
“Oh no,” he whined, the slight lowering of pressure on the front of his pants enough to trigger a spurt of urine to be released from his bladder. His abdomen was bloated, he knew. Not only could he feel the sloshing of urine in his stretched bladder with every move, but he could see the hard lump of the organ jutting over the top of his pants underneath his t-shirt.
Now that Haru was awake though, Makoto was, thankfully, able to move around. He shifted his hips back and forth across the seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs over and over. He was still trying his best to keep noise to a minimum to avoid waking Rei, Nagisa, or Kou, but despite his best efforts, several whimpers and groans were getting past his bitten lips.
“I’ll ask the driver to stop,” Haru said again, moving to rise a second time. This time, Makoto was too afraid of the consequences of removing a hand from his lap, so he couldn’t physically pull Haru back to his seat, but he didn’t hesitate to speak.
“Haru, please don’t! I can hold it,” Makoto whispered, voice strained with the effort of keeping his voice both quiet and steady.
“No you can’t.” Matter-of-fact, as was expected of Haru.
“I’m going to. I already made him stop this morning when we were driving to the competition! I don’t want to stop again.”
“But you’re hurting,” Haru stated, though he did lower himself back into the seat, scooting in close to Makoto.
“No, I’m fine,” Makoto said, assuring himself just as much as he was Haru. Unfortunately, from the raised eyebrow he got in response from Haru, Makoto knew that he hadn’t succeeded in convincing either of them, especially as another quick spurt of pee soaked into his underwear.
---
Makoto wasn’t sure how much longer he had until the bus pulled back into the Iwatobi High School parking lot, but he honestly didn’t care. There was no way he was going to make it all the way back to the school regardless of the remaining time.
He was embarrassed to realize that he was crying, but the pain in his stomach was immense now. His bladder was so full that he was sure no more liquid could possibly fit. In fact, it was so full that liquid was dripping out at a constant, steady rate.
His underwear was completely soaked from a combination of sweat and urine, and with every shift of his body in the bus seat, he could hear an unpleasant squelching noise coming from the pee that had not been absorbed by his wet underwear. He was positive there’d be a huge dark spot on the back of his pants when he stood up, but really, the entire pair of pants was going to be a shade darker soon, because Makoto absolutely couldn’t wait any longer.
He was tempted now to ask the driver to stop, but he knew it would be a fruitless endeavor. There was no way he’d be able to stand up without flooding his pants, assuming he’d be able to hold it long enough to actually locate somewhere with a public bathroom. He supposed they could just pull off to the side of the road, but Makoto would never pee outside like that--It was much too embarrassing.
Though wetting his pants on a bus with his teammates was also pretty embarrassing, he had to admit.
After all, despite the many close calls his weak bladder had caused him over the past year, he had never had an accident. He’d never even gotten a visible wet spot on his pants. His underwear sure, but that didn’t bother him nearly as much, since no one could see how desperate he had truly been.
But now, he knew that he had long since gone past the possibility of hiding his desperation, and his only hope was that he’d be able to avoid making a mess all over the bus seat. It didn’t matter how badly he had to pee—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left something like that for the bus driver to clean up.
Oh, I need to go now, please please I just need to pee!
“Haru,” Makoto whined through clenched teeth, unable to even raise his head to look at his friend from his hunched position.
“I’ll tell the driver to stop,” Haru said for the third time that afternoon.
“Haru, no, I can’t stand up!” Makoto hissed, rocking back and forth with increasing intensity as his bladder pulsed and throbbed, leak after leak of urine dripping from him. “Haru, I don’t want to make a mess!” Haru, please help me, I need to go!
Makoto didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all about anything other than the incessant pressure within him and the desire to rid himself of that pressure, and his panic over the situation was shining through in the tone of his voice.
But he couldn’t make a mess on a bus of all things. He’d never forgive himself! It didn’t matter if he couldn’t concentrate on anything, if tears were dripping down his face, or if he was sure his bladder was now stuck in a permanent cramp...None of that was an excuse for leaving a puddle on a bus seat.
He vaguely realized that Haru was bending down, and the sound of a zipper indicated that Haru was digging through his swim bag. Makoto though, currently bent at the waist so far that his forehead brushed his knees with every anxious bounce of his legs, couldn’t bring himself to raise his head far enough to see what Haru was doing. That is, he couldn’t until something made of a white, soft material was pushed into his face.
“Here. This’ll soak it up,” Haru explained, and was that…That was one of Haru’s towels, Makoto realized, and as disgusted as he was with himself for even considering taking Haru up on what he was clearly offering, Makoto knew it was either pee in Haru’s towel or wet the bus seat, because the convulsions in his bladder were doing nothing but getting worse.
“Okay,” Makoto whimpered. Now that that decision was made, he only had the slight issue of figuring out how exactly he was going to be able to move his hand from his groin long enough to grab the towel. Luckily, Haru seemed to realize the problem around the same time that Makoto did.
“Stand up,” Haru said, nudging Makoto’s hip with the towel. “I’ll help you.”
Makoto let out a wordless whine. He knew that if he stood up, his bladder was going to give up completely. He would have to trust Haru. But he always trusted Haru, so really, what was the point in hesitating now when he knew listening to his friend would bring sweet relief to him so much faster?
“Okay,” Makoto said, intending it as a warning to Haru that he was preparing to stand. And then he was standing, and he could distinctly feel the exact moment his muscles relaxed completely, the change in position too sudden for his overstretched bladder to handle, and the hissing sound coming from below his waist just seemed so loud as he began peeing full force, even as the sensation of relief washed over him, a pleasant shiver traveling up his spine.
Haru tapped a hand lightly on Makoto’s stomach to indicate he should sit back down, and there he could feel the balled-up towel under his crotch, and even though it wasn’t completely under him, now that he had started to go, he couldn’t bring himself to stop long enough to move either himself or the towel.
But there was Haru, reaching forward and adjusting the towel’s position, pushing it more firmly under him as Makoto felt the soft material becoming thoroughly soaked. He was sure the towel wasn’t catching everything, some of the liquid creeping down past it and to the bus seat, but he was confident that it wouldn’t be so much that it’d be impossible for him to clean up before they reached Iwatobi, as it would’ve been without the miracle of the towel underneath him.
And the towel really did feel like a miracle in that moment as Makoto bent forward and rested his head on the seat in front of him, letting his arms relax and hands rest beside him after what felt like hours of holding himself, sighing heavily at the feeling of relief that accompanied the liquid finally, finally leaving his bladder.
Before long though, Makoto realized that he was feeling more urine dripping down onto the seat than was getting soaked up in the towel, and oh no, he wasn’t nearly done going yet, but the towel was thoroughly drenched, the fluffy cloth only able to hold so much liquid.
Frantically tightening his bladder muscles yet again, he let out a groan in agony. There was still so much left, and his tired muscles were protesting with everything they had. Giving up the relief, even for a moment, was pure torture.
No, no I still need to go! Please I can’t stop now it feels so good, please!
Haru though was always looking out for him. How could Makoto have ever expected Haru to not have realized that one towel wouldn’t be enough? Haru, his savior, was ready with a second towel in his hand. Even as Makoto was trying to work past this new, sharp pain to voice his current problem, Haru had reached between his legs and grabbed the saturated towel, replacing it with the dry one.
Yes yes yes thank you, Haru, thank you.
Makoto’s groan of discomfort changed to one of pleasure as he relaxed his muscles again, letting the rest of the liquid flood the new towel. He felt Haru’s eyes on him, even as Makoto kept his own eyes shut, lost in the feeling of the lessening of the aching pressure that had been torturing him for the entirety of the bus ride, knowing now that he’d finally be rid of it completely.
After what felt like hours, the flow tapered off into a few last drops before stopping completely. Silence fell over the boys as Makoto worked to resist covering his face with his wet hands, knowing his blush was doing a great job in giving away how humiliated he felt.
“Makoto,” Haru said, and Makoto turned to look at him. Haru’s own face had a bit of a red tinge to it, and his eyes were wide in something resembling shock. For the first time in years, Makoto was having a hard time figuring out exactly what Haru was thinking.
At least he didn’t seem disgusted. In fact, Haru was still clutching the first towel he had given Makoto, seemingly having forgotten it was still in his hands.
“I’ll take that, Haru!” Makoto said, voice sweet with false cheer, trying to hide his embarrassment over the entire ordeal (no matter how futile the attempt) as he reached out for the wet towel. He didn’t miss Haru’s hesitation in handing over the strip of soaked cloth, but instead of questioning it, Makoto decided to tuck away that bit of information to investigate at a later time, preferably when he wasn’t sitting on a bus in urine-soaked pants.
Makoto didn’t particularly want to put the two drenched towels in his bag with all of his other things, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice. There was no way he was going to stick Haru with having to deal with them, even though they were technically Haru’s towels, so with a grimace, Makoto unzipped his bag and was about to stuff the towels in when, with a long-suffering sigh, Haru stopped him, grabbing his wrist.
Without a word, Haru grabbed Makoto’s bag, pulling out Makoto’s own towels, swimsuit, goggles, extra clothes, and everything else in the bottomless pit that was Makoto’s swim bag and putting all of it into Haru’s own. Makoto was then presented with an empty bag, into which he plopped the wet towels.
“Thank you, Haru.”
Haru just nodded, cheeks still retaining their red stain from earlier as he zipped up his own overfull swim bag, but not before pulling out one of Makoto’s dry towels.
“Stand up, Makoto,” Haru requested. Makoto immediately did as asked, watching curiously as Haru laid the towel down on the bus seat, Makoto unable to keep a smile off his face when he saw what Haru was doing.
He hadn’t been worried so much about making a mess of the bus now that he was tired and sated and, frankly, a little sore after emptying his bladder, but he was glad Haru had noticed his dripping pants would likely add to the small puddle already on the seat.
“Thanks, Haru,” Makoto said again before taking a glance out the bus window. “I think we’ll be back at school soon, but you can go back to your nap, if you want.”
Haru didn’t respond verbally, simply returning to leaning into Makoto’s side and resting his head on his tall friend’s shoulder, just as he had been before he’d been jerked awake earlier. Now that Makoto was infinitely more comfortable--not to mention exhausted from the energy it took him to hold on to such an impressive volume of pee for so long--he didn’t hesitate to lean into Haru as well, resting his head atop his friend’s.
“Have a good rest then, Haru-chan,” Makoto mumbled into Haru’s hair with a gentle smile.
Haru murmured a response too garbled for Makoto to make out.
Makoto was sure he’d worry, once they got back to school, what the others would say about his dripping pants. Rei and Kou would surely either ignore it or be understanding, but Nagisa…Nagisa was something else entirely.
“Makoto, sleep,” Haru grumbled from below him, twining his left arm around Makoto’s right so they were linked at the elbow rather than just pressed together.
Makoto nodded in acknowledgment, burrowing his nose deeper into Haru’s hair as he felt Haru nudge his own nose into Makoto’s shoulder.
He knew Nagisa would likely bring attention to his accident, would probably even pick on him for it, but it would be fine. He would be fine. He had Haru there to defend him, he thought, pressing a smile into the top of Haru’s head, eyes fluttering shut.