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After another sleepless night, Alastor started his morning off like any other with a concerning amount of coffee that sure didn't help with his insomnia problem.
He'd had the same sleeping problems since he was a kid, and instead of getting it checked out or getting medicated, he masked his exhaustion with slowly increasing amounts of coffee every day. He was well aware it was probably worsening the problem, but he'd been addicted for years at this point and had no intention of cutting coffee out of his life. A good, hot black coffee was too comforting and delicious to resist, so he happily let his addiction and insomnia get worse.
Usually, Alastor would enjoy an hour in his room sipping coffee and treasuring the time he had alone and not surrounded by the annoying denizens of the hotel, but halfway through, he was interrupted.
"Alastor! Come downstairs, guess who's here!" Charlie shouted from the lobby.
Fuck.
He had completely forgotten about the outing he had with his partner, Vox.
Alastor cursed himself for forgetting this- a date they had scheduled a week ago and brought up every day since. Well, you can't blame me for it not crossing my mind. It's perfectly normal for one to act this way if they haven't had their morning coffee yet, Alastor rationalized internally while sitting up.
Oh right.
He did have his coffee.
At least five of them.
Mumbling curses to himself, Alastor grabbed his blazer and boater hat and ran out the door, adjusting his tie and collar whilst doing so.
Once he reached the lobby, he tipped his hat to a smiley Charlie before opening the door and seeing Vox.
Alastor smiled at the sight of his partner. He wore grayish-blue dress pants, a waistcoat of the same color, and a white collared shirt with cuffed sleeves underneath. He also sported a wide, adorable smile and held a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Vox always seemed to look more charming every time Alastor met with him, and today, even with that stupid smile, was no exception.
"You look lovely, darling," Alastor commented with a genuine smile.
Vox grinned more sheepishly, a little flustered. "I uh- I got you some flowers. Roses- because I heard you say the other day they were your favorite." He said, holding out the bouquet to his partner.
"They are indeed! The color reminds me of blood!" Alastor declared in a cheery voice, having decided the moment was all too romantic and cute by the way Charlie was squealing with joy behind him, so he immediately ruined it. "My favorite part is when you hold one and your hands get cut up by its thorns and start to become dripping with your own blood."
Vox chuckled as watched Charlie's expression change to something more horrified as she backed away.
"We get it, you're a freak. Big bad radio demon and all that crap. I'm terrified. Now let's go," Vox said playfully, shoving the roses in Alastor's hands, grabbing his arm, and dragging him out the door and to the street.
They hooked arms and began walking, bantering about petty arguments and ranting about sharks (well, Vox was- Alastor was just admiring him), until Alastor spotted a coffee shop. It was at that point his headache had become more prominent, signaling him he needed more caffeine. In order to not interrupt Vox's shark rant, Alastor discreetly changed directions slightly so they were going near the coffee shop without Vox noticing.
But, as Alastor led them through the door and into the line to order, Vox snapped out of his shark rant and realized where they were.
Vox crossed his arms and glared at his partner. "Alastor. You're not getting more coffee. I know you've already had like four cups."
"Five cups, actually."
"AL."
Alastor scoffed, pulling Vox and himself out of the line and to the side. "Pleaseee, darling, my head is throbbing- all I want is just one cup. One cup won't do any harm," Alastor pleaded, rubbing his temples as the headache worsened.
"Yeah, but five cups every day will!"
"Six, actually, once I get this one."
"ALASTOR."
Alastor was beginning to get annoyed at how annoyingly caring his partner was being. "Look. I'm trying to enjoy our date, as are you, and having a migraine and being exhausted isn't helping. Just one cup will calm me down and then we can both enjoy our outing that, might I mention, that we've been planning for a week," Alastor began, doing his best to convince Vox. "You always say you want me to 'admit when I need help' so you can help me, so, here. I need help. I have a horrid headache and I'm dreadfully tired. Can you help by letting me get a cup?"
Annoyed that Alastor was technically right, Vox sighed annoyedly. "Fine, but no more after that, okay, you crazy bitch?"
"Alright, love," Alastor agreed with a smug grin. "No more."
After feeding Alastor's addiction, Vox ordered a croissant for himself. They decided to help themselves to the outdoor seating that sat right outside the shop. The umbrella sprouting from the middle of the table made a great place for the stupid boyfriends to sit.
"-and then Velv said 'normal people don't start sobbing when the tag on their shirt starts annoying them or when your clothes are itchy or tight, you autistic bastard', and I tried to explain to her that everyone does that because who the hell wants a tag or itchy clothes constantly scratching you all day? NO ONE!" Vox ranted, taking a bite of his croissant every few sentences. "Back me up, Al, doesn't a tag just make you want to like- rip your skin off?"
"No, actually, it doesn't. And as far as I'm aware, most people would agree with me," Alastor replied.
As Vox continued to try and fail to justify some of the other behaviors Velvette pointed out, Alastor was beginning to regret having that sixth cup. Sure, his headache was gone, but now there was a new nagging pain. Maybe drinking all that liquid that morning and not having taken a bathroom break wasn't the best idea, because his bladder was starting to fill alarmingly fast.
Sure, it wasn't bad at all, but pairing an easily embarrassed, very prideful radio demon with six cups of coffee and an entire day with his partner wasn't going to end well.
Having finished his croissant and his rant, Vox stood up and grabbed Alastor's hand. "Alright, why don't we go on a walk down the street? There's a record store a few blocks down and we can walk around there if you'd like."
"Sounds lovely," Alastor responded as casually as possible while trying to hide the fact that he shuddered when Vox so suddenly grabbed him.
As they began down the street, Alastor began to feel his bladder strain at every step. It wasn't enough that he had to squirm or hold himself, but with all the coffee he drank, he had a feeling that it wouldn't be long until that moment came and he'd have to decide between 'maintaining his image and dignity' (not telling Vox he had to pee) or 'humiliating himself and completely losing his composure' (tell Vox he had to pee).
It really shouldn't have been that hard of a choice, but for someone like Alastor who's too embarrassed to admit he did something as small as burn his tongue, it was.
When the two entered the record store, Alastor's expression briefly became worried when he realized just how many people were in there and how bringing attention to the fact that he needed to use the bathroom was not an option with this many witnesses. Apparently, it wasn't brief enough, because Vox noticed and shot him a concerned look.
"You okay, Al?" He muttered.
Shit.
"Of course, sweetheart, why wouldn't I be? I'm quite lovely, darling." Alastor answered, flashing a grin that looked believable enough to persuade Vox that he was fine.
"Okay- damn- I was just asking," Vox said with a shrug before turning his head back to the records.
While his partner actually looked around the store like any sane person who doesn't have a delusional god complex, Alastor debated when the least humiliating time would be to bring up the fact that he needed the restroom. Every second he wasted trying to rationalize admitting he needed something that every normal functioning person needed was another second his bladder filled up.
Fortunately, they left the store and Alastor felt slightly better knowing so many people weren't watching them.
Unfortunately, Alastor couldn't ignore his urge anymore. He'd have to do something other than stand there if he didn't want to piss himself.
While they continued walking, this time with no real destination, Alastor tried to discreetly hold himself, but with Vox being the physically affectionate asshole he was, Alastor's hands were usually intertwined with Vox's, so he had to somehow simultaneously walk, squeeze his thighs together, and hide the fact that the urge was getting worse from his partner.
It was not a pleasant experience.
Vox had noticed the strained look on Alastor's face and how he walked rather strangely. He wasn't an idiot- he knew something was wrong- he just couldn't quite figure out what exactly. He led them over to a park bench and noted internally how Alastor immediately crossed his legs tightly and how his fingers restlessly drummed on his legs.
"Alright, I know you have a big ego and won't ever admit when something is wrong, but it's worth a shot," Vox began, clasping his hands together and avoiding eye contact. "So... Alastor... Are you okay? You're walking weird, you're fidgety, you won't talk as much, and your face looks strained... I can't ignore it."
Alastor dug his nails into his palms. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied.
Vox sighed and rolled his eyes annoyedly. "I swear to fuck, Al, how long have we been together and you still won't say anything? You'd think you've gotten over yourself by now."
Starting to bounce his leg as the pressure on his bladder worsened, Alastor tried to force himself to be honest, but his ego wouldn't let him do something so 'humiliating'. He wished he could do what Vox said and get over himself, but the thought of admitting that the urge was now really starting to get to him made him want to wallow in shame. Instead, he tried to come up with something else that would satisfy Vox.
"I'm just... going through more coffee withdrawals," Alastor lied, hoping Vox would believe him. "It makes me fidgety and hurts my head."
Vox shook his head. "I don't believe you."
Alastor found himself having to shove a hand between his legs as his bladder began to strain more and more. I swear to God, Vox- leave me alone! He yelled internally.
"What is it? Did you get sick? Are you nauseous? Is something hurt? You need to be honest or else it'll get worse." Vox insisted, looking concerned.
But of course, Alastor persisted. "Vox. I told you. I am fine. I just have a small headache. Wouldn't a good partner trust me?" He tried, hoping a guilt trip would work.
Finally, Vox let it go and crossed his arms. "Fine. I believe you."
"Thank you. Now, do you mind if we wrap this little outing up and start heading home?" Alastor suggested, trying to both change the subject and get to a place with privacy and a bathroom. "It has been a delight, but it's getting late."
Softening his expression and calming down, Vox agreed and stood up.
The walk home was quite miserable.
Every step was absolute agony as Alastor's bladder begged to feel relief. He had one hand holding Vox's hand and another holding himself squished between his thighs, which were as tightly pressed together as possible. He felt himself starting to squirm as a result of holding his pee becoming unbearable.
Vox glanced over at his partner whose eyes were locked on the road but whose whole body was squirming and now starting to jump around with desperation.
This idiot, Vox thought to himself.
"Al," he tried again, "are you okay?"
Suddenly their walking stopped as Alastor let go of Vox's hand and immediately shoved it in between his legs. It was a strange sight, to see The Radio Demon squirming uncontrollably and dancing around, looking so incredibly desperate.
"V-Vox I..." Alastor started, his face bright red. "I really have t-to use the restroom..."
Vox smirked. "No shit. I think the potty dance gave it away."
"VOX!"
Despite being so utterly humiliated, Alastor couldn't stop himself from jumping up and down and hopping foot to foot, doing anything if it meant not pissing himself. A few leaks made their way through, but somehow the rest was contained by the pathetic dance he was doing.
He had never been this desperate before- he couldn't stop moving and squirming despite everything in body telling him to let go
Suddenly, Alastor felt his hands start to become warm and pee start to slip out. He desperately tried to hold it just a few minutes longer, but pee soaked him and left him standing there, absolutely humiliated and utterly mortified.
Vox froze, looking at his partner and his bright red face that seemed to be filling with tears.
"Oh, god, Al, don't cry... Jesus christ," Vox muttered, running over to hug him.
"I'm- I'm not crying, dumbass... get off of me..." Alastor muttered, stopping himself before he cried and humiliated himself even more.
Vox let go, backing up. "Okay- okay."
For a second they stood in silence- Vox in shock and Alastor in the worst humiliation he'd ever felt.
"So... let's go to my house, then, right? Not the hotel?" Vox began, grabbing Alastor's hand.
"...Yeah. Let's do that."
The walk to Vox's tower was silent. Alastor was contemplating killing himself, and Vox didn't know how to respond.
Once they got to his bedroom, Alastor shamefully changed into a new pair of clothes before sitting on the bed with with partner, still silent.
"Are you... okay?" Vox tried, hoping the humiliation had worn off.
"...I'm lovely, darling."
"So..." Vox began. "What did we learn?"
"...I need to tell you when I need something instead of pretending I'm better than everyone else?" Alastor answered weakly.
Vox smiled contently, reaching over and scratching behind Alastor's ears. "Hey, don't worry, I won't tell. You already have plenty of dirt on me from catching me doing plenty of worse things, so now we're even," he said playfully.
Alastor lay down on the bed, smiling genuinely. "Alright, I guess you have a point, you stupid picture box. Does that mean you won't blackmail me?"
"Yeah, because I know if I brought that up you'd bring up those worse things."
"Like the time with the p-"
"OOOKAY, THAT'S ENOUGH."