Slumber Party
WARNING: This fic contains mild omorashi.
A/N: I WROTE THIS IS ONE DAY AND IT'S 3,000 WORDS AND IT IS LITERALLY THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN.
It was nearly midnight, and everyone was still at the Smosh Games headquarters.
They'd finished filming next week's Game Bang hours ago; but, like so many other nights in the last few months, they'd all decided to hang around in the game room afterwards, talking and drinking and playing one-on-one games of Halo.
At the moment, Mari was kicking Ian's ass in a Halo match, while Anthony, Jovenshire, Sohinki and Lasercorn were sprawled lazily on the floor behind them, exchanging funny stories from earlier in their careers. Sohinki had his legs slung across Lasercorn's lap, their arms snugly around each other's waists. They were the one couple in the group of otherwise single people (although, judging by the flirty glances Mari and Jovenshire were always giving each other, Anthony doubted that would be the case for long).
Anthony cracked open another beer - his seventh one that night - and tried to think of another Smosh story to tell. Suddenly, he grinned. "Have I ever told you about that time Ian pissed his pants while we were filming?"
"Don't tell that story!" Ian yelled over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the screen. He and Mari were locked in an intense battle.
But Mari paused the game, spinning around eagerly in her chair. "I haven't heard this story," she said, smirking. "Tell us!"
"Tell it!" Lasercorn agreed, and Sohinki and Jovenshire both nodded.
"You're all assholes," Ian said, half-heartedly flipping his middle finger up at the room in general.
Anthony grinned. "So a couple years ago we were filming a scene, and Ian had to wear this big, heavy costume that took about half an hour to get in and out of. And, you know, there was no zipper in the front or anything, so he would literally have to take the entire thingoff if he wanted to get out of it. Anyway, he had to be in that costume for about four hours straight, and half an hour into the shoot he realized he had to piss."
"We were also shooting in a warehouse with no bathrooms, and the closest gas station was a twenty-minute drive down the road," Ian added, trying to defend himself.
Anthony smirked. "Anyway, our costume designer at the time literally told Ian that she would kill him if she had to get him out of that costume and then back into it, so he decided he could hold it for the rest of the shoot..."
Ian bit his lip to hold back a groan. He'd had to piss like crazy for the last hour and a half, and there was still another two hours left to go. The heavy costume was making him sweat all over, dampening his crotch and thighs uncomfortably, which really didn't help with his urges. He mentally cursed himself for drinking so much coffee that morning and forgetting to piss before he left the house.
"By three hours in, he was practically squirming," Anthony continued. Ian buried his reddening face in his arms as the story went on.
"He kept fucking up his lines because he had to pee so bad. It was hilarious."
"Cut!" Anthony cried as Ian once again stuttered over his line. The smirk on his face was infuriating; Ian had half a mind to punch him right then and there.
"I can't help it," Ian groaned frustratedly. "I really have to piss."
"Can't you hold it just a little longer?" Anthony asked. "We're almost done, dude. If you get out of the costume and drive down the road that's going to add at least another hour and a half to the shoot."
"Whatever," Ian muttered. "Just hurry up and finish."
"That's what your mom said last night," Anthony said, earning a laugh from the crew. Ian glared at him.
"So we kept filming, even with Ian practically having to grab his crotch every few minutes. We were almost done the shoot, and then..."
They were almost finished shooting, but Ian was in agony. His abdomen ached from the effort of holding it in; he wasn't sure that waiting to finish the shoot was a good idea anymore.
Suddenly, he felt it; a trickle of urine escaping from his dick, moistening his boxers ever so slightly.
"Fuck!" he cried, and he began tearing off the costume, despite the indignant cries of their costume designer. He didn't bother undoing any of the straps or buttons; he simply tore through whatever was in his way. He could worry about that later; right now he just needed to get out of it before he pissed all over it.
He was stripped down into his t-shirt and boxers in a record time of less than one minute, and he hurriedly tugged on his jeans, planning to run outside and piss in the alley between this building and the next one, but -
Anthony smirked. "He didn't make it."
Ian didn't even make it out of the room before his bladder gave way. He nearly fell over in his attempt to hold it in, but it was no use; warm liquid was already pouring into his boxers and running down his legs, soaking his jeans and pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands uselessly holding his crotch as he pissed himself in front of a dozen people.
"He completely soaked his jeans," Anthony said, laughing. "In the most overdramatic way, too; he was moaning and shaking and..." he trailed off as he felt a familiar tingling below his waist. He realized that, for some reason, he was getting hard. Blushing slightly, he crossed his legs to hide the bulge that was forming in his jeans. "A-anyway, it was funny."
He glanced over towards Ian, and saw him staring, eyebrows raised slightly. Before Anthony could make some kind of statement in his defense, Ian turned his still-blushing face to the rest of the room and grinned. "Alright, now you guys have heard my embarrassing story. Let's hear some of yours, huh?"
Mari laughed. "Well, it's not quite as embarrassing as pissing your pants, but this one time I tripped on stage in the middle of one of my ballet performances..."
Anthony settled back in his chair, his erection slowly fading. He still wasn't sure why the story had affected him like that, but even thinking about it made his dick twitch again. He sighed, blamed it on being drunk at the current moment, and tried to concentrate on Mari's story about how she'd fallen on her face in front of an audience of 500 people. Before long, he'd completely forgotten about the unexplained boner.
~
The stories and the drinking continued on for another hour or so; when Anthony checked his phone again, he was startled to see that it was nearly two in the morning.
"Jesus, it's late," he said, to no one in particular.
Suddenly, Mari's face lit up. "Guys!" she said excitedly. "Let's have a sleepover!"
Jovenshire grinned. "Hell yeah!" he cried, and Anthony grinned to himself at how willing he was to go along with anything Mari suggested.
"A sleepover at the office?" Ian said, laughing. "Sounds kinda lame."
"Like this is a regular office," Mari replied, rolling her eyes. "I mean, does anyone really want to take a cab home at this time of night?"
There was a chorus of nope's and hell no's, and Mari grinned. "See? Come on, it'll be fun! We can pull an all-nighter playing three-on-three Halo, and there's that pizza place down the road that delivers 24 hours a day - we could get a ton of pizza and soda and charge it all to the company account!"
"The company account is still our money," Anthony pointed out, rolling his eyes, but he had to admit, the idea sounded like a lot of fun.
"What do you think?" Mari asked, turning to Sohinki and Lasercorn.
Lasercorn grinned. "We're up for it. You know, as long as you guys can give us an hour alone together in the other room at some point."
"Gross," Jovenshire said, and Ian tossed a balled-up piece of paper at Lasercorn. Sohinki blushed, hiding his face against Lasercorn's shoulder as he laughed embarrassedly. Lasercorn smirked, kissing his boyfriend's reddening cheek.
"Okay, okay," Anthony said, laughing. "We'll have a sleepover."
"Success!" Mari cried triumphantly. "I'll go call the pizza place."
"I'll come with you!" Jovenshire said quickly, and Mari smiled.
"Get a room, you two," Lasercorn whispered loudly.
Mari snorted. "The same room you two are going to have man sex in? No thanks."
"Stop," Sohinki groaned, laughing embarrassedly.
"Just call the fricking pizza place," Ian interrupted, tossing another paper ball at Mari.
She stuck her tongue out at him and wandered out of the room, dialling the number on her cell phone.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Anthony announced. "Be right back."
"Thanks for sharing," Lasercorn called after him.
He was halfway to the washroom when he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around to see Ian following him.
"What's up?" he asked. Ian didn't reply; instead grabbed Anthony's shoulders and pushed him gently up against the wall, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Dude?" Anthony said, slightly concerned. "What are you doing?"
"You enjoyed telling that story just a little too much," Ian said, smirking.
"I - what?"
"You had a hard-on," Ian reminded him. Anthony blushed.
"Oh, right. Um... it wasn't because of that, it was because I was thinking about... uh..."
"I think it was because of that," Ian replied. He leaned in closer. A little too close. "Does thinking about me pissing myself turn you on, Anthony?"
"I... um..." If Anthony had been sober, he would have pushed Ian off and walked away, but his alcohol-sodden brain couldn't quite process the idea.
Ian's smirk widened. "I thought so," he murmured. "Would it turn you on if I told you that I had to piss right now?"
Anthony's cock twitched at the words, and he couldn't help the small moan that escaped his throat.
Ian continued talking, his voice dropping lower and lower with every word. "You want me to piss my jeans for you right now? Right here in the hallway?"
Anthony's head couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Ian was talking about pissing himself, that Ian was fucking hitting on him, but that didn't matter; his cock did the thinking for him.
"Please," he whispered shakily.
Ian smirked. "I'll do it, on one condition. You have to do it too."
"I have to -?"
Ian nodded. "You piss your pants and I'll piss mine. What do you think?"
When Anthony was silent, Ian continued, leaning in to whisper in Anthony's ear.
"I have two spare pairs of jeans in my backpack. You can just say that you spilled soda on yours and had to change." Ian's lips brushed against Anthony's earlobe. "No one will ever have to know."
Anthony's head tipped back, his hips jerking forward in his arousal. "Okay," he breathed.
Ian stepped back at little, just enough so that their bodies were no longer touching.
"On three," he murmured. "One... two... three."
Anthony squeezed his eyes shut, willing his bladder to release. At first he felt nothing; and then a trickle of wetness ran down his leg. That was all it took. He relaxed his midsection as a hot warmth flooded his jeans, soaking them through.
Through the ecstasy of the feeling, he opened his eyes to watch Ian do the same, eager to see the wetness spreading across his legs and dripping onto the floor.
There was just one problem. Ian wasn't pissing himself.
Anthony tried to stop his own stream, but it was far too late for that; his pants were soaked through, and a puddle was starting to form beneath him. He sank back against the wall, defeatedly letting go and allowing his bladder to finish emptying.
Finally, he was finished. He opened his eyes again to stare at his best friend.
Ian was standing there, pants still bone-dry, and the bastard was laughing.
"Wow," Ian choked out between giggles. "You really do get off on that, don't you?"
Anthony stared at him, dumbfounded. "But... you said... you..."
"Well, that's what you get for telling everyone that story."
"Ian!" Anthony cried exasperatedly. He was furious with himself for not realizing that it was a trick. Ian hitting on him should have been the first thing that tipped him off.
Ian grinned. "You look so cute with your jeans all soaked. Oh, and that reminds me - I kind of lied about having spare pants with me. Maybe someone else will have some."
Anthony groaned. "Ian, come on! I can't go back in there with my pants all wet like this."
Ian shrugged. "I've done it in front of more people than that, which you're always so quick to remind people of." He grinned. "Now come on, let's get back to the others. Mari should be done ordering that pizza now." Without another word, he headed back towards the main room. Anthony followed reluctantly, glaring at the back of Ian's head.
"Hey, guys?" Ian said, stepping into the game room. "Does anyone have some extra pants? Anthony had a little accident."
When Anthony stepped through the doorway, blushing from head to toe, there was silence for a second. Then Mari accidentally let a giggle slip out, and the rest of the guys erupted into laughter. Anthony groaned, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair.
"Should've just walked in naked," he muttered to himself.
Finally, Jovenshire got his laughter under control and did his best to smile reassuringly. "Hey, Ant, I've got some sweatpants in my office. You can borrow those." He paused. "Actually, you know what, on second thought, you can keep them."
Ian, Mari, Lasercorn and Sohinki burst out laughing again, and Anthony gratefully followed Jovenshire down the hallway. Behind them, he heard Ian's voice.
"Hey guys, want to hear the story of how Anthony pissed himself at our sleepover?"
Anthony rolled his eyes. Ian was so going to pay for this.
~
When Anthony finished changing, he reluctantly tossed his ruined jeans into the garbage can and exited the office. Jovenshire had disappeared; probably back to the main room. Anthony reluctantly started down the hall.
He could hear the giggling from inside the game room even before he reached the doorway. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, blushing again at the laughter.
"Are you guys still -" he began exasperatedly, but Ian shook his head quickly, making a shush motion through his laughter. Anthony obediently fell silent, just in time to hear a moan and a thump through the far wall. Everyone burst into giggles again.
Suddenly he realized that Lasercorn and Sohinki were missing from the game room.
"Oh God," Anthony said, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "You guys are sick."
Suddenly a faint shout of "stop listening, you assholes!" emitted through the thin wall, and the entire group burst into full-on laughter, Anthony included. Ian motioned for him to come join them all in the little circle they'd formed on the floor. Anthony sat down next to him, still blushing slightly.
"I'm sorry," Ian murmured, grinning sheepishly.
Anthony shook his head. "You're still an asshole," he whispered back, but he couldn't help smiling too.
Suddenly Lasercorn and Sohinki burst through the door of the game room. Lasercorn's hair was messed up, and Sohinki's shirt was inside out. They were both blushing furiously.
"You guys are dicks," Sohinki said, shaking his head.
"And perverts," Lasercorn added, but he was grinning. "Hope you enjoyed the show."
"Trust me, we did," Ian said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Anthony shoved him.
Ian snorted. "You wanna go, Padilla? And, just to clarify, by 'go' I mean fight, not piss your pants."
Anthony flushed red again, but before he could open his mouth to retort, Ian did something unexpected.
He leaned in and kissed Anthony right on the mouth.
Anthony's ears were immediately invaded by the sounds of whistles and cheering from the rest of the group, but the noise faded into the background as he got lost in the feeling of Ian's warm and surprisingly gentle lips. He wondered dazedly why they'd never kissed each other before; it felt fantastic.
The kiss must have only been a few seconds long, because when Ian finally pulled away, everyone was still cheering.
"It actually happened!" Jovenshire exclaimed.
Mari smirked. "I told you. Pay up."
Jovenshire sighed, reaching for his wallet.
"You owe me, too," Sohinki said, grinning.
"I should have bet on it," Lasercorn muttered under his breath.
Anthony stared at them. "You were betting on -"
"Shhh," Ian interrupted, and pulled him in for another kiss.
~
It was nearly 4 a.m., and Anthony and Ian were still kissing.
Jovenshire and Mari had disappeared about an hour ago, saying something about sharing a cab home. Sohinki and Lasercorn were asleep on the other side of the game room, cuddled together in a single sleeping bag. Anthony still wasn't sure where the hell they'd gotten it.
Ian and Anthony had moved over into the darkest corner of the room, sitting up against the wall with a blanket draped over their legs. Ian's hands were tangled in Anthony's hair, holding him close as their lips and tongues slid together languidly. Ian tasted like root beer with a faint hint of the pizza they'd devoured earlier, and another subtle taste underneath; something both friendly and intoxicating at the same time. The taste of Ian.
"Ian?" Anthony murmured, his lips still hovering a centimeter away from Ian's.
"Yeah?" Ian replied softly, reaching up to brush Anthony's bangs away from his eyes.
"Is this... you know, just a drunk thing?"
Ian grinned slightly. "Trust me, if it was, I would have banged you already."
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Dumbass."
"Dickhead."
Anthony kissed Ian's lips again, gently and quickly. "So then... you have feelings for me?"
Ian nodded, blushing a little. "Yeah, I do." He smiled hopefully. "Do you?"
Anthony nodded. "I guess I always kinda did. So... where does this leave us?"
Ian shrugged. "We can label it in the morning, Ant. Now, back to the kissing part... because I kind of liked that, you know."
Anthony laughed affectionately. "Loser."
Ian leaned in again, eyes slipping shut. "Douchebag," he murmured.
Anthony's hand cupped Ian's cheek gently. "Ass-"
But before he could finish the insult, Ian's lips were pressed against his again, urgent but gentle. Anthony relaxed into the kiss, tongue pushing lazily against Ian's, and he couldn't help but smile.
It felt perfect.
A/N: I WROTE THIS IS ONE DAY AND IT'S 3,000 WORDS AND IT IS LITERALLY THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN.
It was nearly midnight, and everyone was still at the Smosh Games headquarters.
They'd finished filming next week's Game Bang hours ago; but, like so many other nights in the last few months, they'd all decided to hang around in the game room afterwards, talking and drinking and playing one-on-one games of Halo.
At the moment, Mari was kicking Ian's ass in a Halo match, while Anthony, Jovenshire, Sohinki and Lasercorn were sprawled lazily on the floor behind them, exchanging funny stories from earlier in their careers. Sohinki had his legs slung across Lasercorn's lap, their arms snugly around each other's waists. They were the one couple in the group of otherwise single people (although, judging by the flirty glances Mari and Jovenshire were always giving each other, Anthony doubted that would be the case for long).
Anthony cracked open another beer - his seventh one that night - and tried to think of another Smosh story to tell. Suddenly, he grinned. "Have I ever told you about that time Ian pissed his pants while we were filming?"
"Don't tell that story!" Ian yelled over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the screen. He and Mari were locked in an intense battle.
But Mari paused the game, spinning around eagerly in her chair. "I haven't heard this story," she said, smirking. "Tell us!"
"Tell it!" Lasercorn agreed, and Sohinki and Jovenshire both nodded.
"You're all assholes," Ian said, half-heartedly flipping his middle finger up at the room in general.
Anthony grinned. "So a couple years ago we were filming a scene, and Ian had to wear this big, heavy costume that took about half an hour to get in and out of. And, you know, there was no zipper in the front or anything, so he would literally have to take the entire thingoff if he wanted to get out of it. Anyway, he had to be in that costume for about four hours straight, and half an hour into the shoot he realized he had to piss."
"We were also shooting in a warehouse with no bathrooms, and the closest gas station was a twenty-minute drive down the road," Ian added, trying to defend himself.
Anthony smirked. "Anyway, our costume designer at the time literally told Ian that she would kill him if she had to get him out of that costume and then back into it, so he decided he could hold it for the rest of the shoot..."
Ian bit his lip to hold back a groan. He'd had to piss like crazy for the last hour and a half, and there was still another two hours left to go. The heavy costume was making him sweat all over, dampening his crotch and thighs uncomfortably, which really didn't help with his urges. He mentally cursed himself for drinking so much coffee that morning and forgetting to piss before he left the house.
"By three hours in, he was practically squirming," Anthony continued. Ian buried his reddening face in his arms as the story went on.
"He kept fucking up his lines because he had to pee so bad. It was hilarious."
"Cut!" Anthony cried as Ian once again stuttered over his line. The smirk on his face was infuriating; Ian had half a mind to punch him right then and there.
"I can't help it," Ian groaned frustratedly. "I really have to piss."
"Can't you hold it just a little longer?" Anthony asked. "We're almost done, dude. If you get out of the costume and drive down the road that's going to add at least another hour and a half to the shoot."
"Whatever," Ian muttered. "Just hurry up and finish."
"That's what your mom said last night," Anthony said, earning a laugh from the crew. Ian glared at him.
"So we kept filming, even with Ian practically having to grab his crotch every few minutes. We were almost done the shoot, and then..."
They were almost finished shooting, but Ian was in agony. His abdomen ached from the effort of holding it in; he wasn't sure that waiting to finish the shoot was a good idea anymore.
Suddenly, he felt it; a trickle of urine escaping from his dick, moistening his boxers ever so slightly.
"Fuck!" he cried, and he began tearing off the costume, despite the indignant cries of their costume designer. He didn't bother undoing any of the straps or buttons; he simply tore through whatever was in his way. He could worry about that later; right now he just needed to get out of it before he pissed all over it.
He was stripped down into his t-shirt and boxers in a record time of less than one minute, and he hurriedly tugged on his jeans, planning to run outside and piss in the alley between this building and the next one, but -
Anthony smirked. "He didn't make it."
Ian didn't even make it out of the room before his bladder gave way. He nearly fell over in his attempt to hold it in, but it was no use; warm liquid was already pouring into his boxers and running down his legs, soaking his jeans and pooling on the floor beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands uselessly holding his crotch as he pissed himself in front of a dozen people.
"He completely soaked his jeans," Anthony said, laughing. "In the most overdramatic way, too; he was moaning and shaking and..." he trailed off as he felt a familiar tingling below his waist. He realized that, for some reason, he was getting hard. Blushing slightly, he crossed his legs to hide the bulge that was forming in his jeans. "A-anyway, it was funny."
He glanced over towards Ian, and saw him staring, eyebrows raised slightly. Before Anthony could make some kind of statement in his defense, Ian turned his still-blushing face to the rest of the room and grinned. "Alright, now you guys have heard my embarrassing story. Let's hear some of yours, huh?"
Mari laughed. "Well, it's not quite as embarrassing as pissing your pants, but this one time I tripped on stage in the middle of one of my ballet performances..."
Anthony settled back in his chair, his erection slowly fading. He still wasn't sure why the story had affected him like that, but even thinking about it made his dick twitch again. He sighed, blamed it on being drunk at the current moment, and tried to concentrate on Mari's story about how she'd fallen on her face in front of an audience of 500 people. Before long, he'd completely forgotten about the unexplained boner.
~
The stories and the drinking continued on for another hour or so; when Anthony checked his phone again, he was startled to see that it was nearly two in the morning.
"Jesus, it's late," he said, to no one in particular.
Suddenly, Mari's face lit up. "Guys!" she said excitedly. "Let's have a sleepover!"
Jovenshire grinned. "Hell yeah!" he cried, and Anthony grinned to himself at how willing he was to go along with anything Mari suggested.
"A sleepover at the office?" Ian said, laughing. "Sounds kinda lame."
"Like this is a regular office," Mari replied, rolling her eyes. "I mean, does anyone really want to take a cab home at this time of night?"
There was a chorus of nope's and hell no's, and Mari grinned. "See? Come on, it'll be fun! We can pull an all-nighter playing three-on-three Halo, and there's that pizza place down the road that delivers 24 hours a day - we could get a ton of pizza and soda and charge it all to the company account!"
"The company account is still our money," Anthony pointed out, rolling his eyes, but he had to admit, the idea sounded like a lot of fun.
"What do you think?" Mari asked, turning to Sohinki and Lasercorn.
Lasercorn grinned. "We're up for it. You know, as long as you guys can give us an hour alone together in the other room at some point."
"Gross," Jovenshire said, and Ian tossed a balled-up piece of paper at Lasercorn. Sohinki blushed, hiding his face against Lasercorn's shoulder as he laughed embarrassedly. Lasercorn smirked, kissing his boyfriend's reddening cheek.
"Okay, okay," Anthony said, laughing. "We'll have a sleepover."
"Success!" Mari cried triumphantly. "I'll go call the pizza place."
"I'll come with you!" Jovenshire said quickly, and Mari smiled.
"Get a room, you two," Lasercorn whispered loudly.
Mari snorted. "The same room you two are going to have man sex in? No thanks."
"Stop," Sohinki groaned, laughing embarrassedly.
"Just call the fricking pizza place," Ian interrupted, tossing another paper ball at Mari.
She stuck her tongue out at him and wandered out of the room, dialling the number on her cell phone.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Anthony announced. "Be right back."
"Thanks for sharing," Lasercorn called after him.
He was halfway to the washroom when he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around to see Ian following him.
"What's up?" he asked. Ian didn't reply; instead grabbed Anthony's shoulders and pushed him gently up against the wall, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Dude?" Anthony said, slightly concerned. "What are you doing?"
"You enjoyed telling that story just a little too much," Ian said, smirking.
"I - what?"
"You had a hard-on," Ian reminded him. Anthony blushed.
"Oh, right. Um... it wasn't because of that, it was because I was thinking about... uh..."
"I think it was because of that," Ian replied. He leaned in closer. A little too close. "Does thinking about me pissing myself turn you on, Anthony?"
"I... um..." If Anthony had been sober, he would have pushed Ian off and walked away, but his alcohol-sodden brain couldn't quite process the idea.
Ian's smirk widened. "I thought so," he murmured. "Would it turn you on if I told you that I had to piss right now?"
Anthony's cock twitched at the words, and he couldn't help the small moan that escaped his throat.
Ian continued talking, his voice dropping lower and lower with every word. "You want me to piss my jeans for you right now? Right here in the hallway?"
Anthony's head couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Ian was talking about pissing himself, that Ian was fucking hitting on him, but that didn't matter; his cock did the thinking for him.
"Please," he whispered shakily.
Ian smirked. "I'll do it, on one condition. You have to do it too."
"I have to -?"
Ian nodded. "You piss your pants and I'll piss mine. What do you think?"
When Anthony was silent, Ian continued, leaning in to whisper in Anthony's ear.
"I have two spare pairs of jeans in my backpack. You can just say that you spilled soda on yours and had to change." Ian's lips brushed against Anthony's earlobe. "No one will ever have to know."
Anthony's head tipped back, his hips jerking forward in his arousal. "Okay," he breathed.
Ian stepped back at little, just enough so that their bodies were no longer touching.
"On three," he murmured. "One... two... three."
Anthony squeezed his eyes shut, willing his bladder to release. At first he felt nothing; and then a trickle of wetness ran down his leg. That was all it took. He relaxed his midsection as a hot warmth flooded his jeans, soaking them through.
Through the ecstasy of the feeling, he opened his eyes to watch Ian do the same, eager to see the wetness spreading across his legs and dripping onto the floor.
There was just one problem. Ian wasn't pissing himself.
Anthony tried to stop his own stream, but it was far too late for that; his pants were soaked through, and a puddle was starting to form beneath him. He sank back against the wall, defeatedly letting go and allowing his bladder to finish emptying.
Finally, he was finished. He opened his eyes again to stare at his best friend.
Ian was standing there, pants still bone-dry, and the bastard was laughing.
"Wow," Ian choked out between giggles. "You really do get off on that, don't you?"
Anthony stared at him, dumbfounded. "But... you said... you..."
"Well, that's what you get for telling everyone that story."
"Ian!" Anthony cried exasperatedly. He was furious with himself for not realizing that it was a trick. Ian hitting on him should have been the first thing that tipped him off.
Ian grinned. "You look so cute with your jeans all soaked. Oh, and that reminds me - I kind of lied about having spare pants with me. Maybe someone else will have some."
Anthony groaned. "Ian, come on! I can't go back in there with my pants all wet like this."
Ian shrugged. "I've done it in front of more people than that, which you're always so quick to remind people of." He grinned. "Now come on, let's get back to the others. Mari should be done ordering that pizza now." Without another word, he headed back towards the main room. Anthony followed reluctantly, glaring at the back of Ian's head.
"Hey, guys?" Ian said, stepping into the game room. "Does anyone have some extra pants? Anthony had a little accident."
When Anthony stepped through the doorway, blushing from head to toe, there was silence for a second. Then Mari accidentally let a giggle slip out, and the rest of the guys erupted into laughter. Anthony groaned, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair.
"Should've just walked in naked," he muttered to himself.
Finally, Jovenshire got his laughter under control and did his best to smile reassuringly. "Hey, Ant, I've got some sweatpants in my office. You can borrow those." He paused. "Actually, you know what, on second thought, you can keep them."
Ian, Mari, Lasercorn and Sohinki burst out laughing again, and Anthony gratefully followed Jovenshire down the hallway. Behind them, he heard Ian's voice.
"Hey guys, want to hear the story of how Anthony pissed himself at our sleepover?"
Anthony rolled his eyes. Ian was so going to pay for this.
~
When Anthony finished changing, he reluctantly tossed his ruined jeans into the garbage can and exited the office. Jovenshire had disappeared; probably back to the main room. Anthony reluctantly started down the hall.
He could hear the giggling from inside the game room even before he reached the doorway. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, blushing again at the laughter.
"Are you guys still -" he began exasperatedly, but Ian shook his head quickly, making a shush motion through his laughter. Anthony obediently fell silent, just in time to hear a moan and a thump through the far wall. Everyone burst into giggles again.
Suddenly he realized that Lasercorn and Sohinki were missing from the game room.
"Oh God," Anthony said, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "You guys are sick."
Suddenly a faint shout of "stop listening, you assholes!" emitted through the thin wall, and the entire group burst into full-on laughter, Anthony included. Ian motioned for him to come join them all in the little circle they'd formed on the floor. Anthony sat down next to him, still blushing slightly.
"I'm sorry," Ian murmured, grinning sheepishly.
Anthony shook his head. "You're still an asshole," he whispered back, but he couldn't help smiling too.
Suddenly Lasercorn and Sohinki burst through the door of the game room. Lasercorn's hair was messed up, and Sohinki's shirt was inside out. They were both blushing furiously.
"You guys are dicks," Sohinki said, shaking his head.
"And perverts," Lasercorn added, but he was grinning. "Hope you enjoyed the show."
"Trust me, we did," Ian said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Anthony shoved him.
Ian snorted. "You wanna go, Padilla? And, just to clarify, by 'go' I mean fight, not piss your pants."
Anthony flushed red again, but before he could open his mouth to retort, Ian did something unexpected.
He leaned in and kissed Anthony right on the mouth.
Anthony's ears were immediately invaded by the sounds of whistles and cheering from the rest of the group, but the noise faded into the background as he got lost in the feeling of Ian's warm and surprisingly gentle lips. He wondered dazedly why they'd never kissed each other before; it felt fantastic.
The kiss must have only been a few seconds long, because when Ian finally pulled away, everyone was still cheering.
"It actually happened!" Jovenshire exclaimed.
Mari smirked. "I told you. Pay up."
Jovenshire sighed, reaching for his wallet.
"You owe me, too," Sohinki said, grinning.
"I should have bet on it," Lasercorn muttered under his breath.
Anthony stared at them. "You were betting on -"
"Shhh," Ian interrupted, and pulled him in for another kiss.
~
It was nearly 4 a.m., and Anthony and Ian were still kissing.
Jovenshire and Mari had disappeared about an hour ago, saying something about sharing a cab home. Sohinki and Lasercorn were asleep on the other side of the game room, cuddled together in a single sleeping bag. Anthony still wasn't sure where the hell they'd gotten it.
Ian and Anthony had moved over into the darkest corner of the room, sitting up against the wall with a blanket draped over their legs. Ian's hands were tangled in Anthony's hair, holding him close as their lips and tongues slid together languidly. Ian tasted like root beer with a faint hint of the pizza they'd devoured earlier, and another subtle taste underneath; something both friendly and intoxicating at the same time. The taste of Ian.
"Ian?" Anthony murmured, his lips still hovering a centimeter away from Ian's.
"Yeah?" Ian replied softly, reaching up to brush Anthony's bangs away from his eyes.
"Is this... you know, just a drunk thing?"
Ian grinned slightly. "Trust me, if it was, I would have banged you already."
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Dumbass."
"Dickhead."
Anthony kissed Ian's lips again, gently and quickly. "So then... you have feelings for me?"
Ian nodded, blushing a little. "Yeah, I do." He smiled hopefully. "Do you?"
Anthony nodded. "I guess I always kinda did. So... where does this leave us?"
Ian shrugged. "We can label it in the morning, Ant. Now, back to the kissing part... because I kind of liked that, you know."
Anthony laughed affectionately. "Loser."
Ian leaned in again, eyes slipping shut. "Douchebag," he murmured.
Anthony's hand cupped Ian's cheek gently. "Ass-"
But before he could finish the insult, Ian's lips were pressed against his again, urgent but gentle. Anthony relaxed into the kiss, tongue pushing lazily against Ian's, and he couldn't help but smile.
It felt perfect.