Work Text:
“Do we have anything planned this year?” Phil asked, not looking up once from his laptop as he settled with his boyfriend in their flat. Dan turned to him, a frown creasing his features. “Like what..?” he asked hesitantly, his heart twinging as a million scenarios shunted through his head.
“Spooky week. What are we doing this year?” Phil said casually. Dan had no idea if he was imagining it, but Phil was so casual and easygoing it was almost – almost – like the gateway to a marriage proposal... right?
Dan gulped and slowly found his voice. “Don’t know, nothing planned. Did you have anything planned? I- I mean, not that you have to have a plan, I- I just…” He was floundering, now, and the more he floundered the redder in the face Dan got.
“Yeah, I have a plan. How about we vlog from this place for some of spooky week?” Phil asked with a smile, turning the laptop to face Dan. Skummelg Haunted House, it claimed – dare to be scared!
“You want us to vlog from a haunted house?” Dan said, the horror thick in his voice. That was NOT a proposal. The idea deflated in his head near enough instantly.
Unfortunately for Dan, Phil gave a sure nod, and Dan was left to ‘prepare’ for their spooky weekend… if prepare meant overthink himself into a panic until the day itself arrived.
~
6:00 P.M.
Nerves fizzed in Dan’s body like an aspirin, and a pleased Phil noticed that Dan was already on his third bottle of water as they sped along the motorway - as though he were trying to wash away his nerves.
Dan watched through the window, houses bleeding into one another as the pair seemed to drift further and further away from civilisation. Butterflies swarmed low in Dan’s belly, soon settling in his bladder. It wasn’t long – about an hour and fifteen minutes into their drive – before Dan was letting his leg jiggle around in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the nagging pains growing in his abdomen.
“You okay, Dan?” Phil asked casually, feeling his own seat vibrate with the intensity of Dan’s shaking. Phil knew Dan was anything but fine.
“Yeah.” Dan answered instantly, defensively, his voice brittle and quick. “How long until we get there? I need to pee, can we stop?” He said in one breath.
Phil smiled inwardly and nodded. “I’ll pull off at the next junction.”
(In the services, Dan flew to the toilets. Phil stood next to him at the urinals, squeezed out all he could, but still smiled to himself as Dan let out a steady, foaming gush. It didn’t stop Dan, though, from buying an extra large pumpkin spiced latte on his way out.
Well. Phil might have nudged him toward it…)
~
8:15 P.M.
“Here it is, then.” Phil smiled, unlocking the car doors as they pulled up to the house a further hour later. Dan swallowed thickly, taking the atmosphere in. The house itself was shabby looking, with paint peeling from the outer walls revealing decades-old red brick draped in thick cobwebs. One or two windows were mussed up and one was shattered – though neither boy could see through the window. As if sensing the mood between Dan and Phil, the sky mutely merged to a miserable grey and it quickly began to drizzle with rain. Dan let out a short sharp gasp as raindrops spattered down his back.
Fuck. He hoped there was a toilet.
It was pointless hiding it. He had been jiggling almost constantly after two coffees in the car (the first one, from the services, made him jittery; Phil advised another, to wash the jitters away) and now, especially since he had been thrust into this uneasy atmosphere, he was back in the same position as earlier on. When Phil urged him out of the car he clenched his fists, stuffing one hand in his pocket and hoping it came across as casual. “Finally,” he said with irritation in his voice, quickly scissoring his legs. “Where now?”
Phil tried to ignore Dan’s growing (and very obvious) irritation, gesturing to a short, bearded man who beckoned them forward. “I think that’s our guide for today.” He smiled. The short bearded man saw Phil smiling and smiled too. He led the two vloggers through the house. He talked. His voice was gravelly but lilting, helping to calm the spooky feeling in the air.
He talked about some important things; the house’s history, who was said to roam there, what to expect, the charges. Dan was not listening for his body had decided that his bladder was more important than the context of some grotty house and so he had no choice but to jog on the spot in an attempt to keep the nagging pushes from his bladder on the down low.
“That’s great, and all..” Dan had ignored the pulsing developing in his bladder for long enough, but felt he had to cut the man off once they had reached the bedroom. “I... I really have to pee – is there a toilet?”
He laughed, a little nervously.
The bearded man smiled and reached under the bed to show them a pot, which looked dusty but unused, and cracked on the handles. Dan grimaced and, yeah, Phil winced too.
The bearded man, unfazed, laughed. “No toilet. Plumbing’s faulty, innit? You have to use this. Good luck.” He told them, whistling. At that, Dan swore the spasms started up in his bladder, feeling a prodding hot pressure in his nethers. Which was, of course, all Phil’s fault.
~
8:30 P.M.
“So.” Phil said, more to the tense air than to Dan, moving in a slow circle around the bedroom they had been introduced to. “Nice place.” Phil gave a wicked little smile as he watched Dan huff and wriggle next to him, looking around. “Pretty spooky. Gonna help me set up cam?” He asked, moving to his holdall and taking out the camera and connecting leads.
“If I have to..” Dan moaned softly, curling his toes in his shoes. He bent over, angrily yanked some leads from the bag and tossed them on the bed.
~
That was all he did to help, and rose from his crescent position with a wince - admittedly, the position really helped to relieve the pushing from his bladder. Dan chewed his lip as he watched Phil while rubbing patterns into his tense thighs with the tips of his fingers. Phil was out of Dan’s eyeline as he set up the tripod and camera so Dan – hopefully casually – slid his hand into his pocket. Only then did he push his palm to the stone beginning to faintly pulse in his abdomen. The pain that reverberated in his body was instant and dragged a pitiful whine from Dan’s lips. A pitiful whine that, in a second, Dan hoped Phil didn’t hear.
But Phil did. Of course. A smile twitched at the corners of his lip and he froze, smiling to himself. Only for a moment, as then he was at Dan’s side, camera seconds away from exploding into power with Dan very possibly going to lose it on cam, too.
Dan winced to himself as he forced that thought away from his head and let Phil bubble his way through an introduction.
‘Haunted House,’ he heard.
‘Vlogging. Try new things!’ he heard.
‘History of the house’, he heard - and tried to listen this time for he had ignored it the first time around, but found himself zoning out to go back to rubbing his thighs. ‘Truth or dare!’ he heard and suddenly Dan was zoning back in, frowning confused at Phil. “What..?” he whispered.
“Truth or dare!” Phil smiled, doing a small jazz hands impression. Dan huffed, looking down the lens of the camera. “Because that’s so spooky, Phil.” He bit. Phil looked from Dan to the camera, wondering what the issue was. Dan instantly felt guilty… but the constant pumping of his bladder was giving him one hell of an attitude. Phil narrowed his eyes at Dan.
“Right. Since you’re Grumpy McGrumpton, you’re getting the first dare.” Phil said cheerfully, nudging Dan. Dan lost his footing on a floorboard and stumbled, taking in a sharp breath as his bladder quivered painfully. “Okay, okay Phil--” He groaned, slowly straightening up, “Whatever, whatever, I’ll do it.”
Phil was smirking as he pointed toward the empty, dusty closet situated a few feet away from them. Dan hadn’t noticed it until now, and seeing it made him shiver. “Get in there and shut the door. Stay in there for ten minutes. Take the camera.”
9:00 P.M.
Dan gulped and hesitated very slightly but yanked the camera from Phil’s hands and went toward the closet. In the pitch blackness, Dan sighed, flicked on his phone’s flashlight, and slumped against the wall... just feeling glad that he finally had some privacy to grip himself. He slid the palm of his hand down his body to where his bladder rested, and placed his palm against the swelling area. He clenched his thighs around his hand and held himself there, rocking back and forth, taking shuddering breaths. ‘Hold-on-hold-on-hold-on…’ he repeated with every breath, like it was a mantra keeping him alive, the thought of fear-pissing in here on camera was a very real, very terrifying possibility. ‘Nothing here… nothing here…’
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Dan felt like every sense of his was heightened. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He could feel the shivers going down his spine. He was made very aware of every quick, hot pump of his bladder whenever he moved two inches.
(Phil was disappointed it was so quiet.)
“You okay in there, Dan?” Phil asked, leaning close to the door. He heard some pants and whimpers.
Dan jumped. “Y- yeah!” He burst, his voice coming out as an alien bubble. “Hah, yeah… this is easy.” He said, still unnerved.
That was, until the light on his phone flickered out – and immediately afterward, a bucket clanged to the floor. Some slimy tangles of rope - that felt horribly like fingers - slid up his legs. With it, an ornament flew across the room from nowhere and shattered at his hand. Pin-pricks of blood began oozing from fresh slits on his fingers. It all happened so fast that Dan could barely scream for Phil.
Dan’s breathing came faster though, and he involuntarily let out a scream. Every fibre of his body filled with pure terror. The scream relaxed every muscle in his body to the point where a jettison of pee came cascading down his inner thigh. Dan rolled over, clawing desperately at the door. His mantra of ‘hold it’ had been wiped out by an animalian need to get out before he was killed or murdered or something. “Phil! Phil!” He squeaked, cupping his now-damp crotch.
“Dan!” Phil opened the door as Dan screamed for him, and Dan rolled out in a crumpled, panting heap. Phil pulled him up and Dan clung to him, knock-kneed and trembling. By some miracle of nature his fright had blocked out the need to piss for a moment and he gawked there. The camera, still recording, was knocked from his hand.
“What happened?” Phil asked urgently. He grabbed Dan protectively by the shoulders.
Dan shook his head side to side, mumbling out some frightened gibberish. “Nothing… Phil, ah, nothing... hah - just the usual haunted house bullshit.” He said in one breath. His need to piss ebbed away at him once more and he grimaced a little, dancing foot to foot. Phil froze for a moment, about to ask him what was wrong... but then noticed Dan’s hands.
“Dan!” Phil said sympathetically, “Your hands – you need to clean up your hands!”
Dan’s eyes widened. He wrenched himself from Phil’s grip, started backing away; started shaking his head. “Phil… it’s okay, haha--!” He started nervously. “They’re not too bad… ‘sides, no water?”
Phil gestured to his waterbottle and Dan cringed very slightly. He didn’t want to hear any running water… or there’d be running water of his own to deal with.
(Which was exactly Phil’s idea.)
Somehow, despite Dan whining, Phil managed to march Dan to the bathroom and have him perched over the sink while he poured some of his water onto the cuts. The liquid glugged rapidly from the bottle, dripped over Dan’s trembling hands and—as if it KNEW what the issue was—thundered down onto the porcelain sink. Dan felt a lightning rod of urgency strike him, top to bottom. “Oh f- fuck!” He barked, immediately scissoring his legs to force away the need. Phil’s strong grip on his hands faltered and he frowned at Dan.
“Are you okay?” He asked, it being crystal clear in his mind what the issue was. Part of him was still silently encouraging Dan to admit it.
Dan panted, his face blooming a pinky-red. “Oh, just peachy.” He choked.
“Peachy? Yeah.” Phil agreed with a smirk. “Your face.”
He took Dan’s hands again. Dan stood, frowning and blushing, but didn’t squirm any harder. Phil had a secret, inward smile though; he could feel Dan trembling with the sheer effort of holding it in. Dan looked at Phil for a moment before dropping his gaze.
He was shuddering with every breath; and not from fright.
~
The camera had been discarded in the hallway, laid on its side where Dan had dropped it in his frogmarch to the bathroom. It was still recording, lens focused on the cobwebs in the corner where the floorboard met the wall.
“I’m guessing all of this will be totally useless...” Dan sighed shakily as he bent to pick up the camera. Even a movement as simple as bending forced shockwaves of pain through his body. He had to focus extremely, force every cell in his body to not cry out or whine or hiss at the constant ache, not wanting to look like a desperate mess in front of Phil. Still - to a trained ear, like Phil’s - his voice was tight and stilted.
“Nah, we’ll just cut some of it. Edit other parts. It’ll be fine.” Phil said, his hand coming to land on Dan’s shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing. This was a motion that Dan usually found soothing; less so, however, when he felt so overwhelmed by his desire to piss. He whimpered slightly - but didn’t tell Phil to stop. Phil recognised near immediately when Dan was uncomfortable - secretly smirking behind the younger boy’s back. He did this long enough to encourage soft whimpers from the boy and then stopped. “Let’s head back.” He urged, “Get some more footage.”
Dan sniffed, feeling as though he couldn’t say no - being hyper aware of his quickly filling bladder was sucking all the enthusiasm out of him, yes... but he couldn’t deny Phil. “Alright.” He said. His voice was thin and shaking with fragility.
~
9:30 P.M.
As the two resumed, Dan took a lot of coaxing back into ‘video mode’; a lot more than Phil expected, in fact. It wasn’t that Dan could help it, of course. It just... he just felt, when the camera was on him, that it was painfully obvious he was struggling to hold his piss. It was offputting, to say the least.
“Ugh,” he hesitated, the moan slight and wet as it came from his mouth, “Phil... I don’t... I don’t want people to... to know.” He admitted - shyly, almost - shifting foot to foot. He seemed to be defensive, curling tighter into a ball, refusing to even meet Phil’s gaze - instead keeping his eyes trained on his feet, hyperaware as his toes bunched tightly in his shoes.
Phil tipped his own head to meet Dan’s gaze as best he could. “No one’s going to know.” He said, sincerely. His voice was slow and velveteen now, as though he were talking to a child. Phil felt his heart flutter slightly with victory as he won Dan over - the younger boy slowly meeting his gaze.
“No one?” Dan pressed, voice quavering unhappily.
‘Not if you hold it in like you’re meant to,’ Phil thought to himself, but batted the thought away quickly lest he speak it aloud. “No, no one, Dan.” He smiled. “I promise, any footage of you getting fidgety can be edited out.”
At this compromise Dan was visibly relieved - not as relieved as he would be if he finally got to piss as violently as he needed, mind you, but it was close. He nodded slowly, giving the go ahead. Yet, just as Phil was about to pick up the camera and continue filming, Dan hesitated again. Phil dutifully froze and waited for him to speak up.
“Can we have a safeword?” Dan asked, playing with his sore fingers out of nerves.
Phil sputtered softly. “We’re hardly having kinky sex on cam, Dan, it’s just a YouTube video!”
“I need one,” Dan whined, bouncing a little more fervently as though he were a child being denied a new toy. “I need one in case...” - a blush crept up his cheeks before he could finish his sentence. Phil found it fascinating, the pinky-redness blooming embarrassed petals in Dan’s cheeks - seeming to quieten Dan entirely. Eventually, the young adult found his voice again. “In case I’m about to piss all over myself in front of everyone.”
Truthfully, Phil didn’t see the need - but then he wasn’t the one ‘about to piss all over himself in front of everyone’. “‘Course we can bud. How about, ‘drip’?” the thirty one year old smirked, a giggle edging into his voice. The look Dan shot at him in return could’ve killed... but the younger was clearly reaching his limit... as he didn’t say no.
~
9:45 P.M.
“So, truth or dare is cancelled!” Phil told the camera cheerfully when it exploded back into life, yanking Dan’s hand (from where it was comfortably thrust between his legs) and thrusting it in front of the camera to show off the wounds. At this intrusion - and the fact that his hands were keeping him from pissing - Dan let out a strangled moan. He tried desperately to repress it, not wanting the audience - if it ever made it to YouTube - to hear him, but this only forced the moan to become squeakier.
Phil ignored it. “If you’re wondering why… this is why. The ghosts don’t want us to play truth or dare.” He giggled.
Despite himself, despite his state, Dan giggled too. It was a tight giggle, one that, like the moan, he had tried his hardest to suppress. It made his whole body vibrate and pee ache at his tip; but still the boy held back. “I- I wonder how many ghosts are in here, anyway?” He asked Phil breathlessly.
Phil seemed to get an idea, as Dan saw his eyes glitter brightly. He let go of Dan’s hand (which was immediately forced back tight to Dan’s cock) and bounced excitedly. “Yeah! Why don’t we do… one of those things… like a seance?” He grinned.
Dan bit his lip, looking hesitant. He was glad the camera was filming waist up, as he gently swivelled his hips alongside his boyfriend. “I- I don’t—”
“Yeah, it’ll be great!” Phil beamed. Before Dan could convince him otherwise, Phil was already launching into…. Something. “Alright!” He spoke - a little unsure, but largely theatrical - “We don’t have an ouija board or anything like that so we’re doing this old school!” He spoke aloud, both to Dan and the camera, and the spirits in the room - that was, if there were any. “Tap one for yes and twice for no. Are there any ghosts with us right now?”
A minute passed. Then another. Then one more. Fear filled, both Dan and Phil held their breaths in anticipation. Time seemed to drag.
Eventually, Dan scrunched his face up. “Phil, there’s nothing he—” he began, mid scoff, when a heavy tap stunned him into silence. It was such a heavy tap that it shook both Dan and Phil to the core and echoed slightly.
Dan squeaked. “I- I take that back.” He said. His voice was thin and weary (he didn’t want to anger their guests, after all) and his fidgeting - which was up to this point just intermittent bouncing - had increased to rapid side to side scuttles.
Phil smirked, despite the sick swirl of fear deep in his belly. “Okay… Is there more than one ghost here right now?”
Again, it was silent for a long time. Dan felt his neck prickle anxiously as the minutes ticked on by, but eventually there was another low, singular tap.
“Can you tap and tell us how many of you there are?” Phil continued.
The apparent spirits didn’t leave Phil hanging at this point; six clear rapid taps rang out throughout the room.
“Great. A ghost orgy.” Dan muttered, bitterly.
Phil sputtered. “We should name them.” He joked. “Can you turn your back, Susan 6, because Danny Flame here needs to let go of a splashy one.” He said, breaking out into giggles as Dan, unhappy with Phil’s outburst, bloomed scarlet and sputtered accusingly at him.
“Susan again? Really?” Dan scoffed.
“It’s a valid name!” Phil argued. “Susan 6, do you agree?”
(There was a single tap.)
~
10:00 P.M.
“Let’s take you on a tour of the house, guys. You finally get a new Day in The Life!” Phil teased, giggling. He was more enthusiastic than usual; but had to compensate for the growing moodiness coming from Dan.
“Yeah. Let’s start with the bedroom.” Dan agreed quietly.
At his statement, Phil slowly spun around, taking the camera on a rapid 360 tour of their surroundings. “There’s not much here, really,” Phil told the camera, disappointedly. “A bed that someone’s probably died in..” he pointed the camera at the musty looking bedsheets and gingerly gave them a flap. “that we have to SLEEP in. And no toilet! No toilet!” He giggled, bouncing on his toes slightly, mimicking a potty dance. At this statement, Phil pointed the camera at Dan, “Good thing neither of us needs to pee, right?”
Dan scowled at Phil. Did they really have to talk about this?! He bunched his toes tightly on the floor in an attempt not to squirm on camera, retreating somewhat into himself. He couldn’t help the slight trembling, though, and had to grip himself through his pocket. He hoped it looked casual.
“Heh. Yeah..” Dan eventually realised he had gotten lost inside his own head and offered up a sullen answer to the camera. Fuck no, he thought to himself.
“Why don’t you show them our toilet for the night?” Phil requested with a smile. Dan swore Phil was just fucking with him at this point, but grunted as he sloped off to get the pot.
Shaking, he managed to lower himself to his knees, kneeled at the bedside and pulled out the pot. Dan stared at the pot for a long, long moment, gripping the handle with one hand. Now that it was in front of him Dan ached to use it. He pawed at his crotch, but closed his eyes and held them shut, taking a few slow deep breaths as he waited for the urge to wilt away.
“Dan?” Phil asked, with a knowing tinge to his voice.
Summoned, Dan shakily rose to his feet. “Sorry.” He murmured. “I- uh, thought I saw something under the bed, and... uh.” He fell into an awkward silence, simply holding out the pot. “Yeah, this is what we have to pee into. Probably while being watched by ten ghosts who’ll want us to join a ghost orgy.” He spat bitterly.
“Yeah, and we’re both really pee shy, so no thanks, ghosts.” Phil chuckled lightly. No sooner had Phil spoken, the puddle of light they had been standing in died out with a hiss and thrust both into an eerie blackness.
“Phil, what the fuck, what have you done?” Dan squeaked shakily as the pair adjusted to their newly darkened surroundings. His pulse and heart raced but he couldn’t pinpoint if it was due to his fear or his desperation. In his panic, he had jumped as the lights went off, and threw the pot. It clunked heavily somewhere within the room.
“I- I didn’t do anything!” Phil replied quickly, just as panicked. He took a deep breath as if to calm himself, but it came out shaky. “It must have been a fuse or something..” he reasoned, looking at the shadowy silhouette of his boyfriend.
“Was that a ghost?” Dan squeaked, his face crumbling. “Oh my God, Phil, are we going to die in here?”
“Dan, it was just a fuse.” Phil repeated insistently. “The fuse must’ve blown. Go and sort it, yeah? I’ll stay in here in case anything happens.” He offered.
At this, Dan scowled. “Why does it have to be me?! You go, I stayed in the closet too!” He shivered a little, but obediently turned his phone’s flashlight on, illuminating Phil’s face in a burst of white light.
“You’re younger than me, if the demons come after you, you can outrun them. Record some footage on your phone.” Phil teased. He squeezed Dan’s shoulder, but the younger boy shimmied away from his touch grumpily.
Dan took a deep breath. “Alright. It’s just down the hallway. If I scream, you’re coming for me.” Dan told Phil firmly, who nodded. Feeling like his fears were at least somewhat calmed, Dan set off armed with the flashlight. He decided not to record any footage... that is, until he was cloaked in darkness in the hallway without Phil by his side. At least filming would make him feel less... alone. He pressed the record button.
“The lights are out.” Dan told his phone in a quavering voice. “It’s... definitely not ghosts... or anything... just a fuse. Phil has sent me to fix it.”
It took every cell in his body for Dan to force back the, ‘and I’m this close to pissing all over myself, thanks a lot Phil’ that was on the tip of his tongue. He quietened down and his breathing was slow but heavy. Being out here, alone, made every hair on the back of his neck prickle up and, while shivers of pure fear drove themselves into his core, shivers of urgency dwindled up his spine. Dan could feel the piss throbbing in the head of his dick. He sighed, worming one hand downwards to grip his length.
The fuse box was just down the hallway, just above the entrance to the house. He could see it from where he was standing. It’d only take him half a minute to sort it.
Thirty. Twenty nine. Twenty eight. Twenty seven. Twenty six.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but Dan felt as though there was something watching him - a heavy presence on his back. He gulped and shook his head, trying to force the fear away.
Twenty five. Twenty four. Twenty three. Twenty two. Twenty one.
The hairs on the back of his neck were unbearably hot all of a sudden. Dan ducked his head and shuffled as quickly as possible.
Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen.
Dan’s senses were heightened and haywire. His pulse raced, blood roaring in his ears, an icy sense of dread slithered up his arms. His bladder continued to pound sending shocks of pain through his dick. Dan could only grip himself tighter as he got to the fuse box. Shining the stark white light onto the box of switches, Dan squinted.
Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven.
The switches were all on. Dan frowned, overwhelmed. Get out. Get out. Getoutrunaway, he found himself thinking. Run, fucking run. He started to breathe quickly, on the brink of hyperventilating.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
There was a creak behind him - a heavy creak, as though someone had pressed all of the weight of their foot to the floor. The creaking was slow, low and moaning and quickened in pace. Creak, creak, creakcreakcreak. . .
“Phil?” Dan whispered, voice high and trembling. No. Nononono, if Phil was following him, he’d say so. Unexpectedly there was a sudden breath - a low, hot breath - creeping its way down Dan’s neck.
FIVE.
The creaking continued. The panting became deafeningly loud but remained so slow and so hot and so close to his body. Time seemed to slow down, seconds trapped in seconds trapped in minutes. The hallway stretched out impossibly long before him; he would never get back to the safety of Phil in time.
FOUR.
Dan felt his eyes brim with tears, his throat tightening with fear. “Phil!” He screamed, not daring to move.
THREE.
CREAK. Phil wasn’t coming. Had he been eaten? Murdered? “Phil!” Dan desperately cried out again, sinking to the floor. He felt the darkness closing in and suffocating him, trapping him in place.
TWO.
Dan curled in on himself, rocking back and forth in what was the only motion capable of keeping his piss contained. “Phil-Phil-PhilPhilPhilPhil-!” Dan chanted, over and over. He painted slowly, choked with tears.
ONE.
A white light suddenly swaddled Dan, and he squinted against it. His heart was still beating hot and hard in his chest in time with the heavy pulsing of his bladder. It was a miracle he was still holding on.
“Dan?” A voice asked, loudly. The voice unsettled Dan, jolting him right to his core, and he let out a moan of surprise while jamming his legs together. He slowly, hesitantly peeked up to see he was staring down Phil, who was kneeled down just in front of him, flashlight in hand. Dan looked at him for a long moment; Phil did too - but neither spoke. Eventually, Dan let out a short sharp sob, and barrelled into Phil’s arms. Phil held him up in a tight yet soothing grip, and gasped softly. Dan was shaking all over - shaking violently enough to jolt Phil. “Jesus, Bear, what happened to you?” He asked slowly, smoothing Dan’s brown curls slowly in an attempt to soothe the clearly shaken boy. While Dan was collecting himself - he was near enough mute for at least five minutes - Phil shone his own flashlight at the fusebox, and flicked the switch.
The house was bathed in a murky brown light once more.
10:25 P.M.
“Are you ready to go back?” Phil asked, feeling Dan sag in his arms once they had been thrust into light again. It took Dan an achingly long time to bring himself to answer; honestly, Phil could hardly blame him - but he nodded. Phil led him back into their bedroom slowly, telling him that he had been brave. Dan was only half listening, for he was gingerly gripping himself, forcing all of his weight into his hand. They moved back into the bedroom when Phil let Dan go and he staggered over to the bed, perching himself on it. Hand between legs.
“You can tell everyone about it. That’s amazing footage, that is!” Phil said excitedly, dragging the camera over to the bed, right in front of Dan. The thirty one year old settled next to him - but before Dan could gather himself and get a word in, Phil was speaking for him. “Dan just had a really spooky experience when he went to investigate the light!” He said animatedly. “Tell them, Dan!” He grinned, though was still speaking for him. “I just found him and he was...”
Dan looked directly down the lens of the camera and felt an ugly feeling brew in the pit of his stomach. No more. “Phil.” He said slowly, shifting back into the bed. “Phil.”
“Fuck... Phil. Phil. Please.” Dan’s voice was trembling with fear, shudders hammering his entire body. It came as a delayed reaction, but the adrenaline from his scare had worn off and was simply replayed with a sense of white hot fear. Moreover, it had jolted his bladder back into action, and he could already feel the hot heavy punches starting up again.
No more.
Dan could do no more of this. Not on camera. Fuck. The thought of pissing himself on camera - no, on YouTube, for all to see - was horrifying to the point it made his cheeks burn with pure humiliation.
The twenty six year old swallowed thickly as Phil didn’t respond to him as quickly as he’d have liked. He felt his cheeks start to burn even hotter. Did... did Phil really expect him to use the safeword? THAT safeword?
“Phil...” Dan tried again, battled the ugly lump in his throat that was quickly rising. “Drip... drip, please, please... we need to stop.” He pleaded.
He couldn’t begin to explain the fizzles of shame that swept through his entire body as he said the mortifying safeword - like a child about to soak himself. What pained Dan to admit was that it was true - he found himself having to clench his thighs until his muscles ached with the effort, and yet beads of piss rolled into his underwear beyond his control.
In truth, Phil didn’t realise Dan needed his help, coming down from his own fear-fuelled adrenaline rush as he chattered to the camera about it. It was only when Dan’s voice sounded like it was cloudy with tears and the safeword began seeping out of his mouth that Phil looked over, his eyes widening as he took in the state of his boyfriend. “Oh... Daniel..” Phil’s voice suddenly grew soft and concerned.
“I need to fucking stop... we have to stop now. I- I can hold it, but... we have to stop.” Dan managed to say, his eyes bright and gleaming with wetness. Phil nodded instantly - there was no way he could turn down his boyfriend when he was in this state. “Alright.” He said simply, shutting off the camera in one expert motion and settling slowly on the bed. He was unashamedly entranced in watching his boyfriend squirm and struggle in his efforts to hold it in. Rather than settle with Phil, Dan had decided on pacing the floor in stilted shuffling motions, occasionally kneading his crotch with a look of pain.
After what seemed like an eon, Dan inched his way back to the bed. He perched on it, inhaling painfully sharply at the ache it drove through his body, but slowly, agonisingly slowly, exhaled and leaned against Phil - though he was as stiff as cardboard, unable to relax even for a second. Phil rubbed his shoulder soothingly.
“If you need to go that badly, why don’t you just use the pot? The sink?” The elder murmured, sympathy flowing into his voice. His eyes flickered from Dan, contorted in agony from the effort of holding it, to the open door slightly down the hall. He could see the grimy sink from where he was sat, and assumed there was a toilet too. In all honesty, Phil hadn’t checked; he had planned carefully so that his bladder was comfortably empty by the time they’d got to the haunted attraction, and didn’t plan on drinking enough to have to piss. Being spied on by a ghost mid piss wasn’t on the top of his ‘to do’ list. Phil was sure it wasn’t at the top of Dan’s either, granted, but Phil thought maybe he was just desperate enough...
Dan panted a little, huffing in response to Phil’s question. “In case you haven’t noticed,” he spat brattily, rubbing his thighs, “I don’t WANT to piss in front of you or any fucking evil demons, I don’t think I can m-move that f-far without pissing down my legs, and-“ - this sentence seemed to drive tears to his eyes - “I don’t think there’s a toilet in there.”
Phil winced. “Shit. Sorry.” He studied the boy for a moment. “Okay, ah, should we call it a night?” He slowly, unsurely proposed - watching as Dan practically came apart in front of him, crossing and uncrossing his legs and wriggling further into the ass crease on the bed. He had hoped Dan would’ve given in and used the pot by now - never mind using the toilet, but there was no chance of that happening at this point.
“Yes… ah, p- please.” Dan choked out, hoping he didn’t sound like his desperation to have a fucking piss was pulling him apart bit by bit. If it meant he could squirm and moan and give in to his desperation without Phil listening, he would.
“Alright..” Nodding, Phil slid into bed with Dan. Dan stayed, tightly coiled up into a ball, tears pearling in the corners of his eyes. He panted softly to himself, unaware that for endless minutes Phil was watching him.
“Are you going to sleep, then?” Phil asked, gently batting Dan down into the musty duvet, his arm resting across where Dan’s abdomen was. Instead of the usual flat area, he felt warm and swollen. At this unwanted pressure, pain exploded out over Dan’s bladder. He hissed through his teeth and his face creased in pain, feeling the weight of three, four hours worth of piss start to roll downwards. “F- fuck--!” He cried, before he could stop himself, panting again. “Phil, g- get off!”
‘Say no.’ Phil thought to himself. ‘Make him wait.’
“Sorry..” Phil actually said, rolling off of Dan and curling up at the wall. He didn’t sleep.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How the fuck Dan was meant to hold in this fucking ocean until he got back tomorrow morning he didn’t know; the thought drove tears to his eyes. Hoping Phil had quickly settled to sleep, the boy succumbed to his desperation a little, bucking his hip into his hand and getting a grip on his prick. Instantly, warm streams tickled at his pee hole, the first spurt kissing his boxers. “A-a-ahhh-!” Dan squeaked to himself. He thrust his shaking hand as tight against his crotch as it would go and moved slightly.
The pot.. it was in here somewhere. If.. if he could find it in the darkness, then... then he could piss, without Phil seeing..
“Where are you going?” Phil asked.
Dan shot back into bed to sleep, body pumping as he near-dripped on the bedsheets. His toes clenched, curled tight against one another. "A- aha.." He squeaked in one long hot breathy laugh, "N- nowhere, nowhere." He said innocently, and braced himself for the worst night's sleep he'd have in years.
~
11:00 P.M.
He closed his eyes, and seemed to lull himself into a false sense of slumber for about fifteen minutes – the urgent pumping of his bladder being pushed to the back of his mind, despite eliciting heavy whimpers when he rolled over, or forced pressure on the swollen bump too often. His dreams were hazy and when a fizzling little dribble of pee pressed too close, ready to splash out into the creases in the bedsheets, he woke up with a start and would rock and wiggle urgently, not daring to move. Dan was whimpering and whining endlessly when he was awake, the desperation crashing into him instantly.
Then it all got a bit too much. No. There was no way he could possibly wait any longer. It was either use the pot - now, in front of Phil - or piss all over himself, Phil, and the bed - and be doomed to sleep in it for the rest of the night. Dan held his breath, frozen, as pee teetered slowly into his boxers, his hand near.
"P- Phil..." Dan pleaded, his voice low and urgent as he bunched the blankets in his fists. There was only so much rolling his hips he could do and now the boy was quickly reaching his limit. He managed to pull a damp hand from in between his legs and nudge Phil's sleeping form quickly. He barely touched Phil, poking him as if he were made of hot coal, before his hand darted back to the warm spot in between his legs.
"Mmm?" Phil murmured, blinking open his eyes, squinting to adjust to the darkness.
"Phil... PhilPhilPhilPhilPhil.." Dan spat, not with hatred but with desperation as he rocked to get some much needed friction on his swollen bladder. "Oh my god, Phil, I need to go, I have to, so badly!" He begged, tears pearled in the corners of his eyes.
That woke Phil up. "Hell, Dan.." He mumbled, blinking wide eyed at his boyfriend. "Okay, get up.. I think the pot's under the bed."
“Please... please just find it." Dan said tightly, his legs tight and tense under the blanket. Phil could feel Dan crossing them as he sat there and nodded, sliding up into the frosty room. "Hold on." he said, aware that it was a stupid thing to say to someone seconds away from pissing out Niagara, but he was at a loss.
"I fucking am!" Dan snapped, his eyelids closing. His stomach was rolling with the ocean he tried so desperately to contain within himself and he bucked into the bed a little bit, pressure rolling behind the tip of his cock and staying there, pulsing and urging him to leak out. His hands were clammy with anxiety but he curved his fingers around the head of his penis and forced the ball of pressure to stay where it was. The boy managed to stay still for what seemed like one endless minute as he watched Phil search with no luck. He breathed in and out, in and out so hard and so fast he was sure he sounded depraved, his bladder dragging waves of desperation right through him. He hadn't spurted for a while, though, and so Dan dared to gingerly take his thumbs away from his burning slit, rocking forward.
The relief was instant. Like a cork being pulled from a champagne bottle a dragging hot jet bubbled into the bedsheets. Dan nearly shrieked, clamping the pad of his thumb back where it was and closing his legs around eachother.
“Phil, I can’t- I can’t hold it in!” Dan fretted, his voice dissolving to tears as he rocked back and forth on the bed, squeezing the tip of his penis. Despite the iron tight, shaking grip he held, yet another hot pearl of piss managed to slip from him, dripping from the head and causing a wet spot to quickly develop in Dan’s boxers, a slick runway of piss developing in the bridge. Dan’s voice came low and urgent, between pants that made it sound like him and Phil had a ‘Fifty Shades’ re-enactment, not Spooky Week.
“Oh—shit, fuck- Phil!” Dan barked, the piss dripping heavy and steady from him now as he frenetically watched his boyfriend shoot around the room, his brown eyes owlish with anxiety. “Now! Fucking find it right now!” He kept gripping and letting go of himself in an attempt to hold back his flow.
“I can’t find it, Dan!” Phil fretted with the younger as he looked high and low for the chamber pot they had – no pun intended, pun never intended – taken the piss out of earlier on.
“Please, please Phil..” Dan’s eyelids clamped themselves shut as he took deep, shuddering breaths. Dan’s eyes were closed, and his teeth were grit. “I- I don’t care what you do...” he said, forcing his voice between his teeth. “Just find it, please, you- you have to find it.” He rocked forward and back slowly. The warm ball of piss in his stomach rolled forward with him, pulling wet moan after wet moan out of his mouth. Every breath sent a twisting, juddering ache straight through his bladder like a thunderbolt, and Dan was quickly losing the strength to hold onto his bladder as he felt his boxers growing slicker. With each growing spurt the young boy almost let himself give into his bladder’s demands, feeling the next droplet slowly come from his slit, coat his boxers even slower than that with a split second of relief that came to him. Dan relished it, shoulders sagging. Please, oh please, he thought to himself, willing the release to come, quite sure he’d happily soak the musty bedsheets at this point. Phil’s search, the creaking of the floorboards was lost to Dan, as the violent pummel of his heart in his chest met every urgent, desperate throb his bladder gave him.
“Dan-- wait, Dan.." Phil started. Lost in his moment, Dan refused to acknowledge the elder. He didn't even flinch as Phil took him by his heated cheeks. "Dan!" Phil said firmly. "I found it!”
That pulled Dan instantly away from his thoughts, his eyes springing open at once. “Here, bring it here!” He barked without meaning to, desperation flooding through his voice in waves. Phil ignored Dan’s attitude, leaping in three long strides to the bed Dan was sat, shaking, on top of. Dan already had whipped his cock out, still spilling piss from his tip. Phil was instantly at his side, dusted red on the cheeks as he thrust the pot out toward Dan. “Here, it’s here.” Phil soothed, “Go.”
He slid back onto the bed, his arm clasping Dan's trembling shoulder as he tried not to watch the boy pissing.
Dan couldn't have been told twice. In the deepest part of his mind he worried about shyness, but his desperation overruled that entirely.
He was dribbling before Phil even got the lip of the bowl to the tip of his prick and the second it was in place he couldn't hold back. A few droplets seeped forward, droplets that plonked softly into the white centre of the bowl and stained it gold. The droplets picked up in speed, quicker plinks, Dan’s breath held tight with anticipation.
Finally the droplets gave way to a warm ripple of piss that tore down into the porcelain bowl and without the pressure to hold back, it kept coming; quickly transforming into a spraying gush that spattered into the golden liquid pooling in the bottom of the pot. Dan’s desperation screamed out as the piss ran with a thundering from him, instantly causing a low whine to come from Dan as the hot aching pressure began to ebb away.
The twenty six year old slumped back, his knuckles gripping the bedsheets as he let out torrent after torrent, blissfully allowing the porcelain pot to grow heavy and hot in Phil's grip.
His free hand danced to his bladder, touching the heated swell and letting it all rain out. A sigh passed his lips.
"Oh... please, oh... please.." Dan rambled, his composure tearing apart at the seams as the dizzy rush of relief went to his head. Every muscle in his body was slack and shaken as he finally voided what he needed to, the gushing never ending.
Phil, though blushing, managed to giggle. "Please what?" He asked, nuzzling into Dan slightly.
(Still, he kept an eye on the pot. Dan was filling it rapidly, but it seemed to cope well with holding in what Dan forced out, with about a quarter left to fill.)
"Don't... don't stop me." Dan pleaded, moaning very slightly as he went boneless. The ring of piss-on-piss-in-porcelain was quieter now compared to the thundering stream he started off with, replaced more with little noises of relief instead.
"I'm not." Phil said, hiding his grin in Dan's shoulder, feeling his cheeks heat up. He watched from behind Dan's shoulder as the stream evidently began to dwindle and in a few final bursts stopped.
Dan froze, panting, and shook himself, letting the final clinging piss drops fling themselves into the pot with small plink-plinks. He was silent for a while, still shaking, unable to believe his bladder was no longer the water balloon he'd been holding all night. He almost found himself checking, but the pot was modestly full and Dan couldn't have wrung an extra drop out even if he forced himself. It was only then that Dan let out a whooping breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. It came with a shudder, then a weak laugh as he looked toward Phil. "Well, shit." He said, a shiver still in his spine.
"Mmm?" Phil asked.
"I think Susan 6 just watched me piss." Dan told Phil, who just laughed and went to clear up the pot, closing the lid on the cooling steamy liquid. Maybe so, Phil thought to himself as he shut the bathroom door behind him, the images of Dan desperate and pissing racing through his mind, but in that case she was about to watch him do much worse.
11:30 P.M.
(The two lay back not thirty minutes later, Dan brushing his hair through his fingers in an attempt to tame its ‘just fucked’ look. “I just fucked in a haunted house.” He said, awed and breathless to Phil as they lay in their sticky post coital glow. Phil just giggled and cuddled in, breath flutteringly warm against Dan’s shoulder. “Nah.” He mumbled, intertwining their hands. “Do you really think this place is haunted?”
”No.” Dan admitted, despite his cuts and scrapes. “It’s just... creepy.”
Phil nodded, clinging to Dan as they huddled under their thin moth eaten blanket. “Yeah. Creepy commercialised bullshit. D’you really want to upload that footage to YouTube, though?”
”Most of it is just me piss dancing.” Dan huffed softly. “No. They’ll have to go without this year. We can throw them some bloopers or a gaming video or something when we get out of this hellhole.” Dan murmured sleepily.
Phil moved his head an inch in agreement, too tired to even nod.
”Goodnight.”
“Mm, goodnight Dan.” Phil agreed with a yawn.
”Phil,” Dan said in a hissed whisper, “that wasn’t me.”
Phil laughed - he actually had the guts to laugh in Dan’s face. “Yeah yeah.” He grinned, looking at Dan’s expression, his eyes owlish with fear. “Fuck off, Dan.”
”I’m serious.” Dan’s voice vibrated with fear. Phil paused, throwing off the blanket. On second thought, perhaps this whole haunted house thing wasn’t entirely bullshit...)