Humidity

[corpsefluid]

Humidity

Word Count: 1383
Fandom: Metal Gear
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Big Boss/Ocelot
Characters: Ocelot, Big Boss
Tags: Watersports, Urination, Wetting, Oral Sex, PWP
Summary: Casually rewritten filth for the sake of filth as requested by tumblr anons, honestly.

'That would make a mess' was the first thought that popped into Ocelot's mind at the request. Of course it would, why that thought, out of all of them, had to stick was beyond Ocelot.

Though maybe it was better that way, rather than thinking about why Big Boss would ask or why the words had gotten him so hard.

Making a mess was one of the less concerning thoughts he could occupy himself with.

Fortunately he was already naked, as he'd been for the past twenty minutes, thinking about how it might ruin his clothes wouldn't have helped either. Unfortunately it also meant there was nothing to hide how his body responded to it. He might not have commented, but it made Ocelot's skin burn bright red.

Big Boss pushed another glass of water into his hands, 'to make it easier' he said.

Like Ocelot hadn't already had too many. He could feel all the liquid sloshing in his belly still, but he dutifully drank it down. A little grateful for the cold water in this hot, humid room, though he'd have much rather poured it over his skin to take away from the stickiness of the climate.

This wasn't about his comfort of course, kneeling on a hard concrete floor was never comfortable even if it had it's high points. This was all about fulfilling a request.

Ocelot had plenty of his own kinks, this wasn't one of them, but he certainly owed more than a favour or two as far as indulging them was concerned and this was simple enough.

Or it should have been. The urge to piss was starting to settle in, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Even as Big Boss paced back and forth in wait, eventually settling in a corner with a cigar to let the minutes tick by, adding smoke to the already unpleasant muggy atmosphere.

Big Boss wasn't really in any hurry, Ocelot could tell, something like this wasn't the kind of thing you pulled on the fly. He had a nice solid block of time set aside just for this. The wait was just part of the game, anticipation in order to savour the kill all the more.

At least, so Ocelot imagined, sometimes it was hard to tell if he was actually reading the situation or considering how he would go about it.

Eventually Ocelot gave it a try... only nothing, the only thing reaching him was smell of sweat and the wet gurgle-glug of his insides full of liquid. He just needed to wait a bit longer, that would be easy enough, he'd knelt like this longer under similar circumstance. It was all about the end goal though, giving Him what He wanted, the rest was secondary to that part.

Thinking about that, Ocelot felt himself go hard all over again.

He just needed to ignore it, wait it out. Without attention he'd go flaccid again and he'd be able to release his bladder. Ocelot was feeling fuller by the second, the pressure pinching in his lower abdomen.

The extra blood flow focused his attention on the unpleasant sensation and pressing on it just made it hurt.

Ocelot knew how to handle pain, he could endure it and he'd been trained to manage it. This unfamiliar discomfort, he was much less sure about.

With only a few painful drops forced out, Ocelot tried to relax, let his painfully full bladder do the work rather than trying to force it. Looking at the ceiling as if that made it easier to forget what he was supposed to be doing or that there was anyone else in the room. Suddenly, success... or at least it felt like it for all of half a second.

He managed only a thin, unpleasant, dribble of hot liquid before his cock stood to full attention again. Shutting down his bladder again with a uncomfortable burning throb.

The trickle of droplets sliding down the curve of his shaft was simultaneously frustrating and humiliating. How fucking hard could it be to take a piss? Between the ache of his bladder and the ache of his cock, apparently a hell of a lot harder than he thought.

Then Big Boss laughed.

If it had been someone else, Ocelot probably would have laughed too, but here? It just sent more blood south, pooling in his groin and making it even harder to relieve himself.

Ocelot felt disgusting. Sweat slicked his skin and made his hair stick to his bare neck, every trickle of urine he'd managed to force out stank, the heat concentrating the smell. Or maybe it was just Ocelot, the focus on his task making the scent stick to his senses far more obviously, reminding him of how completely he'd failed to relieve himself.

Ocelot could feel how hot his cheeks were, even a blind man could probably tell just how red his face was by the heat alone. If he looked down he'd easily see the bright pink blushing spilling down to his shoulders and chest, almost as humiliating as the humiliation it was in response to.

Ocelot felt Big Boss' hot breath on his genitals only a moment before he registered what was happening. His tongue ran up the underside of Ocelot's erection in spite of, or maybe because of, really, the traces of urine. Wrapping one hand around the base, and his rough lips around the head without a single thought about it.

Ocelot wanted to die. He felt like he should draw back, pull away, try to make Big Boss stop. Do something at least other than shiver. This was the point though wasn't it?

Just considering the taste of it made him squirm.

Big Boss got sick of waiting, he guessed. Ocelot's knees buckled almost immediately. Any touch at all would have brought him down by now, even if it wasn't Big Boss, even if he hadn't been expertly working over his cock with warm, wet lips and tongue, massaging his balls as he went... Ocelot's body demanded at least one need be satisfied.

Since his bladder wasn't getting relieved any time soon.

Ocelot yelped as he tried to push himself deeper into Big Boss' mouth, twisting his stomach wrong and putting pressure on his tender, overfull bladder.

Bitterly cursing his body's failure to cooperate, Ocelot tried to force himself still. Trying to let Big Boss do the work, let him get him off so he could release what was actually wanted of him.

It was hard to appreciate it, even though there were tinges of pleasure on the edges of his nerves, every second that went by just made everything more uncomfortable. Ocelot couldn't do anything about it more than let out a long, high pitched whine as everything tightened and spasmed in preparation to ejaculate. All of it just bringing his uncooperative bladder into a vile, painful focus.

Not even the rush of adrenaline and endorphins from coming could completely drown it out.

Mercifully Big Boss let him go, Ocelot hadn't even managed to piss himself, who knew how his body would decide to fail him if Big Boss had attempted to make him piss on him instead. Ocelot really didn't want to find out.

For the moment Ocelot managed to relax, panting more from pain than anything else.

Before he'd even properly gone soft, liquid rushed to escape. Building up to a steady stream of urine spilling down his legs, forming a warm yellow puddle under his knees. Ocelot groaned with relief, letting himself fall over backwards, paying no mind to the piss pouring over himself. Letting everything out until it trickled down to nothing.

The pissing had been better than the orgasm.

Ocelot felt completely boneless, unable to move a muscle even if he wanted to, and completely unable to care about the smell or how dirty this was. Even though he was lying on the floor in a puddle of his own piss, it was impossible not to relish the feeling of complete and utter relief, both physical and mental.

He was faintly aware of the sounds of Big Boss jerking off, he clearly had what he was after now, but Ocelot was too lost in the aftermath of both releases to really appreciate it.