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When Sagawa awakes, the first thing he feels is his furnace of a partner spooning against his back. And the second thing he feels: Nishitani’s hard cock digging into his ass. And it doesn’t even surprise him; when was the last time the pervert didn’t get morning wood? The third thing: the ache of his full bladder, something he can only ignore for so long.

He opens his eyes, finding the room dimly lit and the clock reading 6:54am. Sagawa groans; the alarm will go off in six minutes, so there really is no point in trying to go back to sleep. But with a trip to Omi HQ planned for later this morning, he can’t just lounge around in bed all day. And neither can Nishitani, so he might as well wake him up now.

Awkwardly, Sagawa shifts in bed so he faces his sleeping partner, staring at the bulge in his boxer shorts and the contentment on his sleeping face. Some would let him sleep until the alarm, but Sagawa remembers how much Nishitani teased him last night (he loves orgasm denial, but the bastard was just being cruel at that point) and he smirks as he leans over and blows hard into Nishitani’s ear.

“Huh?” Nishitani mumbles, jumping into consciousness. He rolls away and sits up, rubbing his ear as confusion covers his sleepy face. “What the fuck’s what, Tsu-chan?”

Sagawa’s smirk broadens. “Just thought I’d wake ya up. Only five minutes ‘til the alarm goes off anyway.”

Nishitani glares at him. “Couldn’t you’ve woke me up more gently?”

“Oh, so now you like being gentle?” Sagawa says.

“Huh?” Nishitani says, and then his eyes widen. “Oooh! I get it. Yer still pissed ‘bout last night!”

Sagawa rolls his eyes. “Oh, whoever would’ve thought that?”

“C’mon, Tsu-chan, ya coulda safe-worded whenever ya wanted,” Nishitani says. “But ya didn’t. Ya liked it, so stop bein’ grumpy and let me go back to sleep.”

“Not happening,” Sagawa says, resisting the urge to punch him (despite knowing Nishitani is actually correct).

“Why?” Nishitani whines, sticking his bottom lip out.

“Because, you fuckin’ idiot, we’ve got a meetin’ today. Remember?”

“Fuuuck, I hate goin’ to HQ!”

Sagawa scoffs. “I fuckin’ know. Now come on, we should be gettin’ up.”

But as he moves to sit up, Nishitani lashes out, grabbing Sagawa’s shoulders. Squeezing hard enough to hurt, he pins Sagawa to the bed, crawls over and straddles his thighs before Sagawa has time to react. Nishitani grins down at him, baring his teeth.

“What’re ya doin’, Homare?!” Sagawa cries, trying to wriggle free but unable to escape Nishitani’s grasp (he has always hated being the physically weaker one of the pair).

“I don’t wanna get up yet, Tsu-chan,” Nishitani says. “We’ve got time ‘til the meetin’. Can’t we stay put a bit longer?”

Sagawa sighs, raising an eyebrow. “Yer such a fuckin’ brat sometimes, ya know that?”

That makes Nishitani laugh, throwing his head back as he howls. “Ya know me so well.”

“So, planning on lettin’ me get up?”

“Nope,” Nishitani says, still laughing.

“Let me guess, ya wanna fuck me?” Sagawa says, putting on a genuinely inquisitive tone.

Nishitani grins. “Well, yeah, obviously.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood. Now let me get up.”

Letting out a huff, Nishitani takes his hands from Sagawa’s shoulders. “Fine, no sex. But we still ain’t gettin’ up.”

“Homare, we can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Yer so borin’, Tsu-chan,” Nishitani says, carefully trailing his fingers across Sagawa’s abdomen. When one finger brushes past his navel and pushes against his full bladder, Sagawa can’t bite back a wince in time. Confused, Nishitani looks at his face. “What’d I do?”

“Nothin’,” he mutters.

But despite being a perpetually horny, violent idiot, Nishitani is actually pretty sharp. He takes his eyes from Sagawa’s face and prods the same area again, much harder this time. Discomfort jolts through his full bladder, and Sagawa hisses.

“Oh, I get it,” Nishitani says, a sadistic smirk crossing his face. “Ya need a piss.”

Sagawa rolls his eyes. “It’s early morning, dipshit. Everyone needs a piss around this time.”

“Not if they got up in the night,” the bastard says, poking his bladder through his boxers. “I’m fine.”

“Look, this is fuckin’ stupid. Just let me get up.”

“Why, so ya can have a piss?”

“That’s part of it. But we still need t’ get up regardless.”

“Yeah, yeah, HQ, work, work, work. Is that all ya think about, Tsu-chan, ya fuckin’ busybody?”

“What, so now it’s bad to actually do yakuza shit?” Sagawa says, voice shuddering when another finger presses against his full bladder. “Fuck off!”

“Nope,” Nishitani says, sadistic smile broadening. “This’s fun.”

To prove his point, Nishitani places his hands on Sagawa’s hips, moving his thumbs to massage the skin over his bladder. Sagawa flinches, gritting his teeth, and the thumbs press down hard enough to make genuine pain shoot through his lower abdomen.

“Fuck off!” Sagawa hisses, but Nishitani just smirks.

“Safe-word or shut it, Tsu-chan,” he says, pushing down so hard Sagawa almost loses control, urine pressing against his urethra, desperately trying to escape.

But he won’t give in. he isn’t going to piss the bed. And he isn’t going to safe-word. He would never admit it to Nishitani, but despite the pain in his bladder and the humiliation of being pinned down, he can’t honestly say he hates this. Especially as seeing Sagawa in this state is clearly getting Nishitani off.

And when Sagawa doesn’t say their safe-word, Nishitani chuckles and says, “See,” and pushes down harder.

He massages his thumbs into Sagawa’s bladder relentlessly, pushing down so hard Sagawa starts to wonder if his bladder might rupture. He clenches the muscles in his thighs and abdomen, trying to force himself to hang on, but his bladder burns and piss runs down his urethra, pressing at the head of his cock, needing to get out of him.

For a split second, he loses control, and a single drop of piss leaks out of him, soaking into his boxers.

“Shit!” he gasps, screwing his eyes up in his effort to stop the flow, and, thankfully, no more comes out.

When he opens his eyes, he sees a wet patch on Nishitani’s boxers, his partner looking torn between continuing to torture Sagawa or jerking himself off. To Sagawa’s pain, he keeps both hands on Sagawa, ignoring his own arousal as he grins smugly down at Sagawa.

He must look like shit, bright red and sweating with effort, muscles trembling and eyes starting to water, but he doesn’t give in. He can last until Nishitani gets bored of tormenting him.

But then Nishitani jabs him harder than ever and a spurt of piss escapes him, and Sagawa gasps in humiliated agony as he clenches aching muscles harder than ever. And his voice cracks and shakes as he mutters, “H-Homare, ya fuckin’… bastard!”

Nishitani laughs. “Fuck, ya look so hot when yer so close to pissin’ yerself, Tsu-chan.”

“I’m not gonna—” Sagawa begins, but he doesn’t get to finish.

Because Nishitani jabs him even harder and a long spurt sprays out of him, and as Sagawa tries desperately to stem the flow, a muscle in his thigh cramps. And as he hisses at the burning in his muscle, his attempt at controlling the stream fails and… his body gives him.

He screws his eyes up as piss pours out of him, drenching his boxers and soaking into the sheets beneath him. Sagawa doesn’t want to, but a moan of sheer relief escapes his throat; why has he never realised how good it feels to finally let it all out?

The piss just keeps coming, the hot liquid flowing at an alarming speed, and Sagawa opens his eyes to see Nishitani with his boxers pulled down, hand wrapped around his cock.

“Fuuck, Tsu-chan, yer so hot…” he moans, jerking off as he watches the wet patch of the bedding spread and Sagawa’s sopping boxers cling to his genitals.

Finally, the flow stops, leaving him cold and wet and fucking gross—a feeling not aided when Nishitani comes, making sure to aim it all over Sagawa’s soaked crotch.

Once he has his breath, Nishitani says, “Thanks for that, Tsu-chan.”

Sagawa glares at him, muscles still shaking from overexertion. “Yer not welcome.”

Nishitani laughs, pulling his boxers back up. “Oh, and ya can get up now.”

And as his partner climbs off of him, Sagawa gives him a death glare, already trying to concoct the perfect revenge.