Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1971153.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      John_Egbert/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      John_Egbert, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Watersports, Shota, Gay_Sex, Oral_Sex, Homestuck_Kink_Meme, Community:
      homesmut
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-17 Words: 8094
****** Apple Juice ******
by Riu1122
Summary
     John tries to pull a prank on Dave.
     Warnings: watersports, underage sex
Notes
     Written as a fill for a request on the kink meme.
     As always, this is also on my Tumblr, as well as a few other place.
     One last warning, there is watersports in this fic. People drink
     urine.
“Hey Dave! Do you want anything to drink?”
“Sure, man. Whaddya got?”
John opened the fridge with a flourish, and made a show of examining the
contents closely. He was fighting desperately to hold back his smile.
“Weeelllllll..... Oh yeah! We have apple juice! Your favorite kind too; I had
my dad buy it at the store, special for you.”
Dave knew something was up right away, and not just because John had supposedly
done something nice for him in advance. His barely-suppressed smile, his
stifled laughter, his idiotic, over-rehearsed movements and words, they all
told Dave that John was trying to pull some stupid prank. The damn kid thought
he was such a good actor, but he was transparent as polished glass. Pranks are
all in the delivery, and John didn't know how to stop himself from laughing at
his own joke.
Dave played along for now though; he was curious. “Oh yeah? Sweet. AJ sounds
hella tight right about now.”
John was already pulling the apple juice container from the fridge. True to his
word, it was Dave's favorite brand, with the familiar Stepford-smiling cartoon
apple on the label, unaware or else uncaring of its eventual fate of being
squeezed and squashed to a pulp to draw its sweet nectar from its flesh for
Dave's consumption. Right away, Dave knew what was going on. It was
pathetically obvious, really. John was so predictable.
Rather than apple juice, the container was filled with urine. John, in his
haste to metaphorically slobber all over late-80's Howie Mandel shitflicks,
hadn't even bothered to get the color right. The thirteen-year-old had clearly
been pretty hydrated when he set his plan in motion, cause the liquid was way
too clear, a pale, sickly gold, rather than the deep amber that could actually
conceivably be mistaken for AJ.
Dave took the bottle from John. The dumb kid was biting his lip, laughter
bubbling just beneath the surface already. Dave showed no hint of suspicion or
awareness on his face. Their prankster's gambit right now was in a delicate
equilibrium; had Dave fallen for this, it would have swung in John's favor. But
how to parry this potentially lethal blow? He could simply say, “Fuck you,
Egbert,” but that would do nothing for his own gambit. It was now, when John
thought he had won, that his defenses were at their lowest.
Dave had very little time to run through many options. If he hesitated, he'd
give the ruse away. As he opened the juice (the seal had already obviously been
broken; did John really think he would trick him with something this sloppy?),
Dave ran through his options. He could pour it over John's head. That'd be very
satisfying, and great ironic justice, but it was very hamfisted and inelegant,
totally unsubtle. It wasn't something Bro would ever do (Dave generally judged
the potential ironic humor of an action based off how easily he could imagine
his brother doing it).
He could throw it at a wall, screech like a howler monkey, and jump out the
window? Definite points for incomprehensibility, but the idea took a major hit
for the possibility of death, plus he'd have to clean up the piss off the wall.
Then an idea presented itself. It was perfect. Dave didn't relish the idea, but
nothing would confuse and upset John more. He was going to give his friend
exactly what he wanted.
He raised the piss-filled bottle to his lips. No time for second guessing
himself. If he faltered or flinched the joke would be ruined. This was all in
the acting. He tipped back the container and began gulping.
A bark of laughter escaped John's mouth, but before it could even emerge from
between his lips, it was choked back. There was no spit-take. No disgusted
shouting. Dave was still eagerly gulping down, like a man dying of thirst.
Dave had prepared for the taste. But it was totally different from what he had
expected. He knew the smell of pee, the musky, cloying scent that sometimes
floated up around his head when he took a leak, but the actual flavor was
totally different. It took a second to hit him; at first it was just a cold
sensation splashing over his tongue. But then the taste hit him like a bullet
train to the gonads. It was bitter and acrid, and totally overwhelming. He had
thought at first that the fact it was cold would make it better, more
refreshing somehow, less like the fresh stuff that was still hot from the
donor's body heat. Instead the temperature just highlighted the flavor, put
every tang into super high contrast. It made him want to crinkle his face in
disgust, to spit it out, to wash his tongue with soap for hours until every
remainder of the flavor was scrubbed from his flesh. But he couldn't. If he
stopped now, John's prank would be a success, and that was just not acceptable.
He had gambled big time on this counterattack, and its success depended on his
ability to hide his discomfort. So he refused to acknowledge the distress
signals being beamed at max volume from his taste buds and kept swallowing.
John was gaping now. What the fuck was going on? Had he grabbed the wrong apple
juice container? No, it had definitely been the right one. Did Dave actually
think he was drinking AJ? He couldn't! Could he? Did pee taste like apple
juice? John thought about that. He had never really tasted urine before, but it
seemed to him that it couldn't possibly. What were they made of? Pee was water
and... human waste? And apples were made of... well, apple? It was weird,
apples were such fundamental, indivisible objects to John, it seemed difficult
to separate the flavor into its constituent parts. Point was, it was impossible
that Dave thought he was drinking apple juice. So was he just enjoying drinking
John's pee?
The thought made John feel dizzy. Dave had nearly drained the bottle now, and
John had just stared at him the whole time. His Adam's apple bobbed furiously
as he gulped, and John figured there was some sort of irony in this that he was
just not qualified to talk about. He felt really uncomfortable, watching his
best friend drink his pee with such gusto. It was strange, but, almost, kind
of, in a really weird way, sort of nice.
Dave let the last few ounces drain into his mouth and swallowed it all at once,
lowering the container in a wide arc and letting out an exaggerated, refreshed
“aaaahhh!” He threw the empty bottle to John, who reacted late, and nearly
dropped it, getting splashed with small droplets that flew from the uncovered
mouth of the bottle. He wiped them off furiously on his pants. “Thanks, man,”
Dave said, “That really hit the spot.” By the end, he had grown used to the
taste. It was still unpleasant, but he wasn't in danger of gagging or spitting
it out. But now that he was done, he was hit by the aftertaste, a lingering
burning sensation that danced over his tongue and put him in danger of barfing.
He could feel the liquid sloshing around in his belly, and it struck him
suddenly what he had just done. He had drunk 20 fluid ounces of his best bro's
piss. He kept his composure; he wasn't going to let it all be for nothing. Too
late to give the joke away now.
“Come on, man. You're being weird. Let's go play Xbox.”
----------
John followed Dave, still holding the empty bottle, and feeling like he was
floating. He still wasn't quite sure what had just happened.
When Dave finally left, saying that Bro was bringing home taquitos tonight and
“like hell he was gonna miss that, man,” John still had the empty AJ container
sitting on his living room coffee table. He had set it down there when he
realized he was still carrying, and somehow hadn't thought of throwing it out.
He picked it up now.
He raised the open top to his nose, and sniffed. The pungent aroma made him
crinkle his nose. Yeah, that definitely had his piss in it. There were some
droplets still clinging to the rim. John hesitated, then stuck his tongue out.
He licked experimentally, collecting some of the residue on his tongue.
A second later, he recoiled. He spat and blew a raspberry, trying to rid his
mouth of the taste. Fuck! It was horrible, even in such a small amount. There
was no way Dave didn't know what this was. What the hell did that mean? That he
had willingly and knowingly drank pee? John could still see it in his mind.
Dave tipping his head back and swallowing, gulping deep and strong. The image
wouldn't leave his head, and now, with the smell of urea still in his nostrils
and the bitter tang on his tongue, he felt a tightening in his pants.
John bit his lip. What the fuck was wrong with him?
----------
Dave lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had a baseball glove on, and was
tossing a ball into the air and catching it, a parody of the very 90's movie
cliché. There was no one to see him; it was irony for irony's sake. The ball
was a tennis ball too, just for the extra layer of ridiculousness.
The whole time he had been at John's house, the flavor hadn't left his mouth.
Even now, nearly a gallon of actual apple juice later, he could almost still
taste it. He smacked his lips, and the memory of it came back. As he had sat
with John, playing some POS, glitchy skateboarding game (Dave's favorite
genre), he had swished spit around in his mouth, ran his tongue along his
teeth, anything to move the flavor around in his mouth.
It never became less unpleasant, but somehow, as the roiling in his belly died
down and the initial nausea left, he started to obsess over it. It was like
poking a bruise, or peeling skin from a sunburn, or picking at a scab. It was
bad, unhealthy, disgusting even, and yet, after a while, somehow addictive.
It wasn't exactly something he ever wanted to do again. But had it been worth
it? It was hard to say at this point. His prankster's gambit was definitely
benefiting already, but only once he'd revealed the prank would it really
skyrocket. The tension was building right now, but the look on John's face when
he finally told him the truth would be the coup de grace. The real artistry at
the point was to know when the moment would arrive. Dave would have to have
wisdom and tact to really milk this thing. Soon enough that John hadn't stopped
thinking about it, but late enough that the sheer confusion and disbelief had
been driven as high as they could go. It was working already, Dave knew. John,
all afternoon, was distant, and kept glancing at the empty AJ bottle that he
had neglected to throw out for some reason. His brain was in turmoil trying to
reconcile what he had expected with what had happened.
Dave ceased his cycle of throwing and catching, and tossed the ball onto the
ground, and the glove as well. Sometime tomorrow would probably be best. He'd
just wait for an opportunity to present itself.
----------
It wasn't until Dave was walking back over to John's house the next day that he
realized the difficulty he faced. How exactly did he finish off this joke? Just
saying to John, “lol i drank ur pee but pretended i didnt notice,” wasn't going
to cut it. He was going to have to think of something way more sophisticated.
When he knocked, John answered the door with alarming alacrity. “H-hey man!
What's happening?”
Dave sidestepped past his friend, who was unconsciously blocking a good part of
the doorway. “Not much, dude. What do you got planned today?”
John fidgeted. “I was thinking we could watch a movie.”
The kid was up to something. Dave played it cool, as always. Never be the first
to act in situations like this; let your opponent show their hand. “Cool, I was
just thinking about how much I wanted to have my eyes and ears assaulted with
actual, literal shit being flung from a television screen. What trash film did
you pick out this time?”
“Only the greatest hit of 1989! 'Little Monsters' starring Fred Savage and
Howie Mandel!”
Dave raised an eyebrow. No way the choice was coincidental, even with John's
extremely specific tastes in cinematography (i.e. limited almost exclusively to
the shittiest movies ever filmed). But he said nothing about that; he wanted to
see where John was taking this. “That's great, I don't think we've watched that
one for at least a week.”
John had prepared. In his living room, the movie's opening credits were frozen
on the television screen, and the coffee table had a spread of snacks laid
across it. Popcorn, crackers and cheese (a weird choice, Dave thought), and a
bowl of chips, which Dave discovered were salt and vinegar flavored as he ate
one while flopping down onto the couch. John sat down beside him, grabbing the
remote and pressing play, and Dave grabbed a handful of popcorn. It was salted
heavily. What the hell was John getting at?
Dave sat back, chewing very slowly on his mouthful of popcorn. John was bobbing
his knee rapidly, and sitting upright. The titles hadn't finished rolling when
he burst out, “Hey! Dave, you must be thirsty! Do you want me to go get some
drinks?”
Yep, that's what Dave had been afraid of. How to respond though? He'd have to
address this eventually, but might as well make the kid fidget some more first.
“Nah, man. I'm good for now.”
John stamped his foot, apparently without even knowing. “No!” he snapped, and
then, more casually, “I insist, I mean. We're gonna get thirsty during the
movie. Might as well get them now, so we don't have to stop it later.”
Dave was being backed into a corner, and he knew it. John was calling his
bluff, and like hell was he going to let this dweeb beat him in a hand of
poker. Just gotta roll with the punches for now. “Fine, dude. I guess I could
go for a glass of AJ. Think you could produce that for me?” That was a misstep.
He shouldn't be so obvious with his wordplay. Keep to ambiguous double
entendres, Strider!
John didn't care about the awkward wording, though. “Okay!” he shouted, “I'll
get that now!” He practically ran from the room. Dave sighed, and scratched his
head. What the fuck was he going to do now?
John's heart was beating rapidly. Things were going more or less according to
plan, he figured. Dave wasn't dumb, if anything he had a better brain for these
sort of things, mind games and subtle hints and double meanings. There was no
way he was going to misinterpret all of this. John was going to know for sure
if yesterday had just been a fluke (maybe Dave had a stuffed up nose and
couldn't taste anything, or maybe John really had mixed up the apple juice
containers and given him the actual stuff), or if he really.... really actually
did like drinking John's urine. John didn't know why the thought made his
stomach flutter as much as it did.
He pulled a glass out from a cabinet, and glanced behind him at the door. Dave
wouldn't come into the kitchen, probably, and Dad was at work so there was no
worries there. John set the glass down, and unbuttoned his pants and unzipped
the fly. Taking one more completely unnecessary furtive glance around, he
pulled the shorts down a little bit and reached in with his free hand and
hefted out his junk. He grabbed the glass and held it right below the head of
his soft cock. He grabbed the base of his modest endowment with his other hand.
Filling the apple juice container the other day had been easy, and it had a
much smaller opening than the rim of the glass. For some reason right now, John
couldn't stop trembling.
It took a second for the stream to start, even once John tried to release his
full bladder. The muscles didn't want to unclench somehow, like some part of
his brain was aware he wasn't in a bathroom and shouldn't be peeing here. Then,
suddenly, the pisslit flared open and the golden liquid shot out like a rocket.
It splattered against the bottom of the cup and some of it splashed out,
getting on John's hand. He slowed the stream so that it wouldn't shoot out so
violently, and the glass began to fill. The stream hit the wall and splashed
against it, forced to the side and creating two circular currents in the cup as
the level rose higher and higher. Bubbles formed and the liquid frothed.
John was forced to cut off the flow before his bladder finished draining; the
glass was full and in danger of overflowing. Stopping in the middle of a good
whizz was the most dissatisfying sensations in the world, but John endured the
pain anyways. He let his dick dribble a little bit, and then shook the final
drops from the tip. He pulled the glass away from his crotch and examined its
contents. The pee was a much darker color than yesterday, and was so warm that
he could feel it radiating through the sides of the glass. The top was covered
in a layer of bubbles and it stank of that particular ammonia smell. There was
no way Dave could mistake this.
John set the glass down as he put away his junk and redid his pants. His heart
was still beating worryingly fast. He grabbed the glass and left the kitchen.
Dave didn't turn his head from the screen when John walked in. It wasn't til
John was only a few steps away that Dave even acknowledged him. “Hm. Thanks
man.” Dave took the glass from John's hand as he sat down again beside the
blond.
Before John had even settled, Dave rose the glass to his lips and took a long,
deep swallow, and then set the glass down. His face didn't look disgusted or
even the least bit startled. He kept staring indifferently at the screen,
shades hiding any emotion that his eyes might have given away.
John's head was reeling, and even sitting down he felt like he was about to
fall over. What did this all mean? Dave liked his piss!? He wanted to drink
it!? John felt his penis stiffening a little, which did nothing to calm his
nerves over the situation. Should he say something? What the heck would he say?
He tried to turn his attention to the movie, but he couldn't; his eyes kept
flicking back to his best bro beside him, and then to the still-mostly-full
glass on the table. When he saw Dave move, his whole head turned reflexively.
The blond reached forward again, and picked up the glass for another sip. It
was longer this time, two gulps, each which made John's stomach do a little
flip and his cock get a little bit harder.
Dave felt like he was winning this round. As it turns out, doing what he had
already been doing had been the best course of action. Always stick to your
guns. That was something he had learned from Bro, and it was working. John had
called his bluff, but Dave played right through and it looked to be a hole-in-
one, to make the whole metaphor situation more confusing. He had been a bit
nervous, truth be told, when John walked back in with the cup. The color
matched better today, but it would take a blind man who was also dead to
mistake the pee for apple juice.
He wanted to make his show more believable today, so that meant casual sipping
rather than the furious gulping of the other day. It seemed like a challenge,
but Dave thought he was up to it. The first swallow had been promising too. The
heat, contrary to Dave's expectations, actually made it more tolerable. Almost
like coffee, it seemed the bitterness of the stuff decreased with temperature.
And with the crash course he had received yesterday, it had been almost easy to
take a nice long drink. No harder (if not easier) than drinking prune juice,
which Bro had forced him to do every dinner for most of his childhood as some
kind of ironic, “good parenting” prank that lasted several years.
The best part was he could feel John's discomfort growing with every molecule
of the acidic fluid that passed his lips. As he took his second sip, Dave
watched John's reactions out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want to turn
his head, or even look at him directly, lest it should cause him to incline his
head somehow towards John. He just watched out of his periphery as John jostled
nervously, staring at his friend drinking his piss with gusto.
Dave spaced out his sips as much as possible, keeping the tension high. It was
honestly way more effective than he would have guessed. John looked positively
on edge, unable to focus on the movie that normally engrossed him completely in
all of its awkward shittiness. He let a minute pass, actually beginning to
enjoy the movie a bit. It was dumb, but there was something deliciously ironic
in being able to enjoy something he hated so much while John, who loved it,
wasn't. Then he picked up the glass and took a sip. It wasn't so terrible at
all, now that he'd acclimated to the flavor.
He set the cup back down, trying to focus on the movie even as John shifted his
body beside him. Less time passed this time before he went back in for another
swallow, but he figured that was fine. He sipped, just a small one this time,
letting the liquid wash over his tongue. It definitely had a bite to it, but it
wasn't really that bad. He set the glass down.
He picked it up again soon after. He took another small sip. This time he
swished it around in his mouth. He hoped John could see; that'd really freak
him out. Dave imagined for a moment that he was some kind of piss connoisseur:
Why, yes, this is our finest vintage. A great amber-yellow, wouldn't you agree?
Very acidic, very bitter, but the flavor just comes together so nicely, yes? He
swallowed, and without setting down the glass brought it to his lips again.
This time he took a much larger sip. And it goes down so smoothly! Do you taste
that kick at the end? Yes, truly this is truly a wonderful glass we have here!
The aftertaste is so exquisite too— you can tell a lot about the quality by the
aftertaste. He swallowed it down again. He was pretty firmly lost in his stupid
little fantasy now, and without thinking he tilted the glass back and started
chugging. Give yourselves a moment, ladies and gentlemen, to just let that
flavor soak in. Let all of those complex tangs and tingles combine into the
delicate oral symphony of taste. Suddenly Dave realized that the glass was
empty. He opened his eyes and lowered it. There was some froth on the sides,
slowly sliding down towards the bottom, but all the liquid was drained.
How had he lost control so much? It wasn't such a big deal that he drank it too
quickly, but just the mere fact that he had been paying so little attention to
what he was doing pissed him off. But it did give him an idea. He turned to
John, who was unabashedly staring at him. “Hey, man,” he said, pretending he
didn't notice John had been staring, “Looks like I finished it off a bit too
quick. Mind getting me a refill?”
John opened his mouth but nothing came out. He had just watched Dave chug the
last half-glass of his pee, his blond head back, his shaded eyes closed, and
the sight had given John the weirdest boner. He remembered that he was supposed
to be talking, “Y-yeah, man, sure!”
Dave looked amused. “You sure you're not out?”
“N-no! I got more; I have a really big bla- Bottle! I bought a really big... b-
bottle of apple juice.” Dave was staring, face flat and revealing nothing. “At
the store. I bought, at the store. A big bottle of apple juice.”
Dave didn't say anything. There was silence. Finally, Dave tilted his head
expectantly, “Well...?”
John jumped to his feet, grabbing the glass from Dave's hands, “Oh yeah! I'll
go do that!” He ran from the room.
Dave leaned back in his seat. Sometime during the whole scene he had gotten
hard. He grabbed his stiffy through the fabric of his clothes, readjusting it
to be more inconspicuous and more comfortable. When had that happened? More
importantly, why had that happened? He wasn't turned on by drinking piss. Was
he?
Suddenly everything snapped into perspective. He was drinking John's pee. Like
the stuff that came out of his dick. Like the stuff that was supposed to go
into a toilet. Like the stuff that dogs used to mark their territory. And he
was enjoyingit. Sure, the snobby wine taster fantasy had been ironic, but he
definitely had been enjoying himself as he guzzled down the shit. And, truth
was, he wouldn't mind having some more. There was some sort of charm in it all
of a sudden, the heady scent, the biting flavor, the feeling of warmth
spreading through his torso as he swallowed and felt it land heavy in his
belly.
His penis throbbed, straining against his underwear. What was wrong with him?
He imagined drinking another glassful, and then, without his permission, his
brain moved to weirder thoughts. Images of him on the ground as John pissed on
him flashed through his brain. Him opening his mouth wide as a menagerie of
faceless dudes all took aim at it. Him wrapping his lips around their dicks in
turn and swallowing every drop of what they had to give, loving the burn that
it left on his throat and tongue. His cock throbbed again in his shorts,
painfully erect.
No, nope. No no no. This was not okay.
----------
The second John got into the kitchen, he set the cup down. Way too hard, in
fact, it clinked loudly and he was almost afraid it would shatter. He
unbuttoned his shorts furiously, and yanked down the zipper. He pulled them and
his underwear down to his knees, and his erect dick flopped out, bobbing up and
down with an almost audible boing! Fuck! Why was he so hard? Why did seeing
Dave drink his piss turn him on?
He was breathing heavily. Okay, he needed to calm down, first of all. He closed
his eyes and took a deep, controlled breath. Okay. That was better. He grabbed
the glass. How to do this? He pushed down on his erection, as far as was
comfortable and then a bit past that, and tilted the glass at an angle in front
of it.
It was even harder this time to get the flow started. He pushed, lightly at
first, and then harder, clenching all the muscles that controlled the bladder
whose names he probably couldn't even pronounce. Finally he managed to get the
flow going; it splashed against the bottom, filling slower than the first time.
He clenched and unclenched, flexing internally to get squeeze every last drop
out. Even so, he quickly ran dry. He tried in vain for a minute to get more,
just a few more drops, but it wasn't going to happen.
He pulled the glass away and brought it up to his face. It was only about half-
full. It would have to do, he guessed. He tucked his still-hard dick away,
rezipped and headed back to the living room. What was happening was a bit of a
surprise.
Dave was standing up, and before John could even begin giving his explanation
of how the AJ bottle was closer to empty than he had thought, Dave burst out
with an uncharacteristically passionate, “Hey, man, it's been fun, but I've
really gotta get going.”
John sputtered, “Wha- but the movie...” He felt the warmth of his urine
radiating through the glass, “A-and your juice!”
Dave snapped, “I don't want any more juice, okay!?” He stopped, backpedaling,
calm again suddenly, and heading for the door “Look, man, I'll see you tomorrow
maybe, I just gotta get home right now, okay?” He opened the door and slammed
it behind him without waiting for a response.
John stared. What just happened? He sat down on the couch, piss sloshing in the
cup. He was more confused than ever. One moment Dave's sipping his piss as if
it were fine wine and he was a raging alcoholic, and the next he's storming out
as fast as he could.
The movie was still playing. It was the apple juice scene. John laughed, much
more bitterly than he usually did at this part. He grabbed the remote and
mashed the pause button dejectedly. He let out a huff. Well... It would be a
few hours more before Dad got home... And his dick was still pulsing angrily in
his shorts...
He put the half-full glass down on the table. He undid his pants, for the third
time in less than an hour, and tugged them down, lifting up off his bottom to
wiggle them over his hips. As soon as it cleared the waistband of his undies,
his erection swung out, slapping his belly forcefully. John giggled
idiotically. He liked it when it did that.
He wrapped his left hand around the turgid flesh, and began pumping. Christ, it
felt good. He tried to avoid thinking about Dave, and all that had happened. He
turned his thoughts as far from that as possible. He thought about Rose's mom,
who had this entire chic scientist motif going that made John's knees weak
every time he saw her. He tried to take her face and superimpose it on top of
his mental snapshot of the topless girls he had seen in the magazines in Dave's
bro's room. Dave had come to him excitedly, voice hushed, and ushered him into
the room silently. They had pored over the smut, whole stacks of it, both
enraptured by the unfamiliar, titillating images. John thought about Dave's
face that afternoon, flushed and red and totally unguarded. John imagined that
same look on his face as he knelt prostrate as John pissed on his face, Dave
opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to catch the liquid as it fell.
No! John shook his head, trying to physically shake the thought out. He didn't
want to piss on his friend; he didn't want to think of Dave that way! But
John's prick disagreed; it was harder than steel in his hand, throbbing in time
with his heavy heartbeats. John put one of his knuckles in his mouth, biting
nervously on his finger.
The glass of piss was still sitting on the table. Still clenching his cock
tightly, John leaned forward and picked it up. He lifted it to his face, and
put the rim right below his nose. He inhaled deeply, the scent overwhelming his
brain. John began tugging on his dick again, slowly at first and then with more
vigor. He had no desire to taste the yellow liquid again, but he kept breathing
the scent in. There was definitely some allure there, he decided. The scent was
musky and had almost a physical weight to it, manly and thick.
John gave up. He let his mind wander to whatever sick fantasies it wanted as he
continued to jerk and sniff deeply. He imagined Dave, wet with piss, looking up
at John with pleading eyes, face uncovered. He imagined Dave chugging entire
gallons of piss. He imagined Dave being surrounded on all sides by dicks, every
one of them blasting him with urine from every angle. It took John less than
ten seconds to cum. He squeezed his dick tightly, his whole body jerking as
orgasm hit, the piss sloshing and some of it splattering over the rim of the
glass onto his tee-shirt. His cock spurt its clear-whitish load into the air,
the cum arcing several inches before smacking wetly against his shirt, the
cloth suddenly getting wet from every angle. The second shot just dribbled out,
running down over John's still-pumping fingers.
He panted, cock still drooling the last of its cum. He let go of his dick,
already mostly soft. He set the glass down, panting and red-faced. He sat there
for several minutes, letting the cum on his hand and on his shirt dry and
congeal, before finally standing up and shuffling towards the stairs. He felt
like he needed a shower.
----------
Dave lay in his bathtub, nude and glassesless. Beside him were several empty
water bottles; he'd been chugging them since getting home. His whole body was
tense, and as bad as he wanted to do this, he desperately wanted to stop. He
needed to stop. But addiction is a powerful thing. And it had wrapped its
insidious fingers around his whole body faster than he would have thought
possible.
Between the fingers of his right hand he held his soft cock. There was an
uncomfortable tightness in his abdomen, but Dave liked it, in a way. He held it
in a bit longer; the wait would just make the release all the more satisfying.
Finally, Dave felt like he couldn't hold it back any longer. He slackened his
muscles, and his soft cock came alive as the urine started to flow. It started
as a trickle, splashing against his belly, but quickly the flow increased, and
the pee arced through the air as it exited his dick and came crashing back down
onto his chest. He flexed, and the stream strengthened, splashing up farther on
his chest. The warmth felt amazing on his body, indescribably erotic for
reasons Dave didn't know. He opened his mouth and leaned forward, catching the
stream as it fell. He let it pool there for a few seconds, then swished it
around, welcoming back the now-familiar flavor, then swallowed, and opened up
again for more.
After the second swallow, Dave flexed a bit harder and leaned forward some
more, letting the stream splash on top of his head. It soaked through his hair
and dribbled down his face. With his hand he aimed his cock, moving the stream
from his head back to his face, letting the yellow liquid cover his whole face,
and then catching more in his mouth.
Dave was beginning to run dry. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, getting
all the piss he could, before finally the stream weakened, its range only able
to reach his chest, then his stomach, and then it was done. The last few drops
dribbled from the tip, and Dave stuck his fingertips in the puddle of pee on
his belly and brought them to his mouth, licking each one of the last precious
drops.
He was suddenly very cold as the liquid cooled and ran down off of his body.
Today he had panicked at John's house. He didn't understand what was going on;
what had been a dumb, poorly-thought-out prank had somehow turned into him
realizing things about himself that he would have almost liked to have remained
ignorant of. But there wasn't any denying it now, sitting in his bathtub, belly
sloshing pleasantly with both his and John's pee. Dave sincerely, unironically
liked getting pissed on.
And he needed more.
----------
When the doorbell rang, it took John by surprise. He hadn't really been
expecting anybody, especially not Dave, not after... whatever had happened
yesterday that made him storm out the way he did. John hit pause and stopped
the timer beside him. Two hours, ten minutes, and thirty-nine seconds. Not too
bad, he figured, definitely on schedule. He was trying to beat his best time on
his speedrun of Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker. The online community on the Zelda
Universe forums would never accept a time that had a break in the middle like
this as legitimate, but that didn't matter much, John figured. It would still
be several weeks of training before he was anywhere close to challenging the
current record, so the precise time was pretty irrelevant.
He got up, stretching, as whoever was at the door rang again. Oh well, the
interruption was pretty well-timed if anything; John's bladder was practically
crying out for a potty break at this point. His fault for drinking so many
Monsters (it takes a lot of energy to play video games for hours on end without
break).
Clearly whoever was outside was an impatient fuck; they were already ringing
the doorbell a third time when John got to it. He swung the door open, slightly
annoyed, only for his slight grimace to disappear as soon as he saw who was
standing there.
“O-oh! Hey Dave. I... I guess I didn't think you'd be coming over today.”
The blond shuffled awkwardly, something that didn't escape John's notice. His
voice, though, was its usual deadpan, “Of course, man, why the hell wouldn't
I?”
“Well, I just thought... You just left really quickly yesterday, is all.”
Dave shrugged indifferently, but his foot was tapping silently but rapidly,
“Yeah, man, Bro texted me, said I hadda come home that second. His schedule's
fucked, man, sometimes he'll be out til 2 and not give a fuck what I've been
doing and other times it'll be 3 in the afternoon and he needs to know exactly
where I am. Didn't mean to ditch like that. Anyways, can I come in?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, sure!” John swung the door open the rest of the way and shuffled
quickly out of the way, so that Dave could waltz in. “It's just that— well, I
guess I thought you left because... um...”
Dave raised an eyebrow, “You okay, Egbert?”
John's ears reddened, “D-Dave, I-I-I-I think there's something we should maybe,
uh, talk about? I-It's just that–”
Dave cut him off, “Hey, Egbert, that sounds cool an' all, but hold that
thought. I walked miles upon miles in the summer heat only to stand on your
doormat for half this conversation. Don't you think you could get me some
refreshments?”
“O-Oh, umm...”
“I've been really digging that AJ you got, I could go for some more.”
“D-Dave, that's, uh, a-actually what I-I wanted to talk to you about–”
“But, man, you've really been holdin' out on me. That shit in the glass was
stale as shit. Today, I want somethin' a bit fresher.” Dave was definitely in
John's space now, and it made him uncomfortable. “In fact, I think I'd like to
try it straight from the source.”
“D-Dave, I-I really don't know what you're talking about!”
Dave leaned back, and it was only then that John realized that he had been
inclining himself towards John, to better invade his personal space. Dave was
playing him like Liberace tickling the ivories, and John knew it. “C'mon, man,
I know you ain't that dumb. You're going to drop your pants, piss into my
mouth, and I'm going to swallow every drop.”
“D-Dave, I-I...” John closed his eyes and swallowed. This was what he had
wanted, isn't it? All the lewd visions that had passed through his mind the
night before flashed through his brain. It felt wrong, on some deep, intrinsic
level, unclean, dirty. But he wanted it badly. Fuck it, oh well. “O-Okay.”
“R-really?” Dave asked, taken aback. He had been sure that it was going to take
a lot of convincing, or worse, John would think he was creepy and Dave'd have
to pass it off as a joke.
“Y-Yeah. Just... let's not do it here.”
Without discussing it, they ended up in the bathroom. It felt appropriate for
what they were doing. John turned to face Dave, and without a word the blond
dropped to his knees and reached for John's waistband. John blushed. He had
never had another person undo his shorts before, and already he found it weird.
The same floaty, lightheaded sensation that he had come to be very familiar
with over the past few days. It wasn't unpleasant, but it gave everything a
hazy sense of unreality to it.
John's pants were suddenly yanked down, together with his underwear. He was
struck suddenly with an absurd sense of embarrassment. He wondered if he was
supposed to take off his shirt. Probably. He didn't anyways, out of some
bizarre sense of modesty.
Dave meanwhile was feeling conflicted. He was staring his best friend's cock in
the eye. It wasn't that it disgusted him. In fact, it was the opposite. Dave
felt uncomfortable at just how much he liked the look of John's dick. It,
unlike Dave's, was cut, and he found the difference charming and intriguing. It
looked to be a bit smaller than his own, but it was hard to tell, and John had
some small wisps of hair sprouting at the base, something that Dave had yet to
develop.
Dave had avoided thinking about all of this in terms of straight or gay, but it
occurred to him now just how gay it really was. That hadn't seemed like such a
big deal last night, when he had committed to his plan, but now...
And yet, his own cock was straining against the fabric of his shorts, rock-
hard. And like hell he was going to be the one to back out now. No way was he
going to lose face like that. So he opened his mouth and leaned in.
John yelped when Dave's lips wrapped around his flaccid dick. It was totally
foreign, the warm, wet sensation of Dave's mouth, and he could feel himself
already starting to chub up. “D-Do I just... let go?” John asked, looking down
at the top of his friend's head.
Dave gave a muffled affirmative grunt, the vibrations shaking through John's
cock and making his eyes roll up in his head from the intensity of the feeling.
He braced himself, and then let go.
The flow started almost immediately. The moment Dave felt the warm liquid
splashing over his tongue, he began sucking, gulping it down the second it
flooded his mouth. John groaned from above him, and Dave could feel the dick in
his mouth beginning to harden already. He kept swallowing, welcoming the return
of the flavor that only two days ago he could barely stand.
His hands found their way to his own waistband, and in less than a second he
had his own painfully erect cock out. He started jerking furiously even as he
continued to guzzle the piss his friend was pumping into him. Dave let some
collect in his mouth, nearly filling it before swallowing it all down.
John's head was full of stars. The simple act of vacating his bladder after
holding it in so long felt amazing, but combined with the fact that he was
vacating it into Dave's stomach and getting his cock sucked at the same time
made it so pleasurable that his knees were about to give out. Nothing he had
ever experienced felt better than this, not masturbation, not even the
explosive orgasm he had had the night before.
As John's cock got harder and harder as he pissed, Dave was forced to sit up a
bit higher. He no longer had the entire thing in his mouth, but instead his
lips were wrapped around only the head of the cock. He continued sucking, not
letting even a single drop escape his lips. As he drank, he could feel the
warmth spreading through his chest and the liquid slosh around in his stomach.
It was a thousand times better straight from the bladder. The piss was hotter,
more flavorful, and the feel of a hard cock in his mouth gave the whole thing a
deeply sexual charge that made Dave's dick throb even harder. He was pumping
his own length furiously, feeling like he could cum at any moment.
Dave could hardly believe the volume of urine John was putting out; he had been
going strong for at least twenty seconds, and wasn't showing signs of stopping
yet. Dave's stomach was almost beginning to feel full, but deliciously so.
John's dick in his mouth was pretty much completely hard now, which only made
the stream blast into Dave's mouth with more force.
John felt his bladder beginning to near empty. He flexed harder, keeping the
stream shooting with the same intensity. Neither wanted it to end. Reflexively,
John put his hand on the back on Dave's head. Dave felt the hand, pushing
slightly on the back of his head, forcing him to take just a bit more of the
pissing cock into his mouth. The stream was beginning to weaken, Dave could
feel. He sucked harder, trying his hard to get all the piss he could. But the
stream kept weakening. John flexed and relaxed, forcing a few more strong
spurts that Dave sucked down with gusto, but he was nearly dry.
Finally the stream tapered off. Dave kept sucking, licking over the tip with
his tongue, catching the final few drops. His throat burned with the
aftertaste, but it felt amazing. John's hand was still on his head, and
although he hadn't planned on it, Dave kept sucking. It wasn't like this could
get any gayer, anyways.
He wasn't exactly a pro at blowjobs, and while he knew the basics, he had never
imagined that he would give one. He tried his best anyways, bobbing forward and
back, trying to take John's entire length. His tongue flicked forward, teasing
the slit and the head. His was still jerking his own cock furiously.
John groaned aloud. Every sensation he had felt over the past few minutes had
been overwhelming and totally new. The warmth of Dave's mouth alone was nearly
enough to make John cum, and now that he was actively sucking and licking it,
John knew he couldn't last. He felt his balls draw up, and he gave a shout.
The cum blasted into Dave's mouth with the same ferocity that the piss had, but
there was considerably less of it. The second the first spurt hit his tongue,
Dave was pushed over the edge. He groaned through John's cock, sending the same
painfully pleasurable vibrations through the brunet's crotch. Dave's cock
spurted in tandem with John's, spilling jizz all over his hand and the floor in
front of him.
John's cock spasmed once more, sending another small flood of cum into Dave's
mouth. He swished the thick, globular fluid around. It was radically different
from pee, viscous and salty. Dave liked it. He swallowed, adding it to the piss
sitting heavily in his stomach.
Finally, he released John's cock from his mouth. It fell between John's thighs,
wet and glistening with Dave's saliva. John's hand fell from the back of Dave's
head, and Dave leaned back and looked up at his best bro. He brought his jism-
coated hand up to his mouth and licked it clean, swallowing his own cum in
addition to John's.
John sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “That was...” he said breathlessly,
“...something.”
“Sure was,” Dave said noncommittally.
John looked around awkwardly, “I-I think I really liked it.”
Dave gave a pointed glance at John's soft cock. He had neglected to pull up his
shorts. “I could tell.”
John laughed uncomfortably, and then fell into a silence. After a moment he
said, “W-would you want to do it again?”
Dave tucked his soft cock into his shorts. They had some cum on them. He'd have
to clean that up. “Sure, man, but you know what I really want right now?”
“Um, what?”
“I really fucking want a glass of apple juice.”
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!