Omorashi Kink - One Direction One Shots

(Almost) Spotless.

Dedicated to paynerecords for the awesome cover.

Louis Tomlinson was a bit of a walking contradiction. He was a clean freak, point blank. He hated living in a messy home and he hated when things in his life were disorganized. However, he also hated doing the actual organization and he dreaded cleaning the house. It was probably the most boring thing in the entire universe for him.
Louis was lucky to have Harry living with him. First and foremost, Harry was absolutely whipped for Louis. He would do anything for his boyfriend to make him happy, no matter what. Louis knew how to take that to his advantage. And Harry was even more of a clean freak than Louis was, the difference being that he would actually act on his impulses. Louis was the thinker in their relationship, and Harry was the doer. That's just how they worked out, and they worked out pretty perfectly, if they did say so themselves.
On one quiet day during their tour break, Louis was sitting at home, answering some work emails on the couch while shit daytime TV played in the background. Harry was in the other room, fiddling with his guitar.
Louis felt a slight twinge in his bladder. It was nothing too serious or urgent, but it was a bit of a nuisance and distraction, so he decided it was better to deal with it now than later if he got too into his work or a show and didn't want to get up. He made his way to the bathroom and groaned when he saw the sheer state of disarray it was in. There were hair products and combs scattered all around the counter, the counter itself was dirty, the toilet needed cleaning, and the shower was just frighteningly dirty. This is what happened when the boys went on tour; their house was left to suffer. Louis sighed. This was just unacceptable. But he really didn't have it in him to clean the bathroom today, and seeing as he was working and Harry was just fooling around on the guitar and not getting any proper work done...
Completely forgetting to actually use the toilet, Louis made his way to the living room, where Harry was fingering a very complicated-looking chord with his tongue stuck to the side and his face scrunched in concentration. "Hazza," he said with a slight whine in his voice, the way he knew Harry loved.
Harry looked up and smiled. "Sup, babe?"
"Would you like to do me, your love, your darling, a favor?" he asked, batting his eyes and grabbing his hand.
"What is it, Lou?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Would you please clean the bathroom? S'absolutely filthy."
Harry sighed. "Can't you do it?" he asked pleadingly. Cleaning was probably the last thing he wanted to do today.
"Do you really think I'd clean the bathroom?" Louis asked sassily. Harry shook his head in defeat, and Louis grinned.
"Honestly, how do I put up with you?" Harry asked, half to himself and half to his other half. Louis kissed him on the cheek in thanks. "Because you love me," he reminded.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied in annoyance. "You're going to pay for this, though; making me get up and do work on my day off. Trust me." Louis rolled his eyes. Like Harry could do anything so bad. He could barely hurt a fly without wanting to cry.
Now that the bathroom issue was being sorted out, Louis decided to make a large cup of tea and return to his work. The tea relaxed him and soothed him, making him feel all the more happy that they were on break. He quickly poured himself another mug, trying to relax as much as he could. Louis could hear Harry humming to himself as he worked, and he smiled fondly at the sounds. He really was pretty lucky to have someone willing to clean for him.
All was going well and good for Louis until the twinge in his bladder from earlier that he had forgotten to tend to returned with much more intensity. He had already had to go before, but now that he had added a large cup of tea to the liquid in his bladder, the need to pee was growing at an alarming rate. Tea always made him have to pee more than usual, and quickly too. He knew he was going to have to take a trip to the toilet as soon as possible.
Louis let out a sigh that ended up turning into a breathy groan as he felt the liquid in his bladder slosh. He really didn't want to get up, but he could tell he really had no choice, unless he was planning on getting really desperate (which he wasn't, although he had done that intentionally before). He got up and made his way to the bathroom.
Louis saw the door was closed and locked when he tried to open it, but he could still hear Harry humming and talking to himself. He knocked on the door. "Hazza," he called.
"What, Louis," Harry said, sounding distracted. Louis could hear the water running. Harry had a feeling he was washing the vase in their bathroom from the way the water was hitting glass. He shivered at the sound, as it set off the urge in his bladder.
"Can you let me in for a mo'?" he asked hopefully.
"Why?" Harry asked, turning the water off.
"Need a wee," Louis explained, tapping his foot. "Can you let me in, please?"
In that moment, Harry remembered that he had promised that Louis was going to pay for making him clean today. And in that moment, he decided just how Louis was going to pay. He chuckled to himself, and shook his head.
"No, Louis, you wanted the bathroom spotless, and I don't want you to come in until it is. I'm trying to clean here and I can't have you coming in and messing it up. I've just cleaned the toilet, too."
Louis looked up to the ceiling and bent at the knees. "Harry," he reasoned. "I do believe the point of a toilet is for someone to use it. And I, your boyfriend, need I remind you, at this moment need to use a toilet. So if you could please let me in, it would be much appreciated..." he groaned as an urge to go of the stronger variety hit him, and he squeezed his legs together.
"No, Louis," Harry deadpanned. "You can use the toilet when I'm done cleaning." To himself, Harry vowed to take as long as possible, cleaning as meticulously and carefully as he could to prolong the wait for Louis to go. He knew that Louis only went to the bathroom when he absolutely needed to go or the urge was beginning to intensify, so he knew that if Lou had already requested to go, it wouldn't be long until Louis started to beg.
Louis went back to the computer with a frown. Why was Harry being so difficult? He tried to put his mind back straight and went back to work, tapping his foot as he typed an email distractedly.
Louis went on to the next email, but his urge to let his piss out was beginning to intensify even more. He tapped his feet at a faster pace, beginning to bob his leg up and down trying to regulate the urge. He continued to type along, trying to concentrate on the TV guide. "Oh, for fûcks sake," he muttered to himself when he conveniently looked up at the guide as it was passing over the Nature Channel, which was having a special on Niagra Falls. That was just plain unfair.
Sighing again at this nuisance, Louis could feel the last of the tea hitting his bladder making its way down, causing a shooting urge to go through his body. He shivered at the feeling and moaned. He really didn't want to bother Harry and disrupt his hard work, but his bladder was crossing the line from I need a wee soon to I'm getting pretty fûcking desperate for a wee and I need to deal with this as soon as possible. Louis groaned and made his way back to the closed bathroom door, his walk turning into a bit of a slow waddle as he tried to walk in a way that wouldn't anger his boiling bladder too much.
"Harry," Louis whined in a bit more urgent tone than previously, knocking hard on the door. "Please let me in, I really need a wee."
"Louis, you heard me before. No coming in till it's spotless in here," Harry retaliated, and Louis could hear him fiddling around with the shower curtain behind the closed door. He sighed and groaned. "Ugh, come on, Harold. I really have to take a wee. I don't care if it's actually spotless, you know that's an impossible exaggeration..." Louis bent his knees and swayed from side to side. He felt like he could safely classify himself as desperate now. He was transitioning slowly into the frantic stage.
"I'll be done soon, no worries..." Harry said slowly, not having any intention of leaving the bathroom anytime soon. He had to make Louis pay for making him work.
"Ugh, just hurry up," Louis requested hastily, going back to his computer. He made a quick attempt at trying to finish his email to management, but he could barely fûcking concentrate on anything, much less being professional, his need was so bad. He moaned and began to grínd his cõck into the couch, grínding back and forth as if that would help keep his pee in. He was practically bouncing up and down trying not to leak. Somewhere between walking back to the room and now, his needs had transitioned from I'm getting pretty fuçking desperate for a wee and I need to deal with this as soon as possible and was now reaching I'm absolutely frantic for a pee and I'm going to be in trouble if I don't get my āss to a toilet in the next few minutes. See, that was the problem with Louis' bladder. He could hold on for a long time, but when he got desperate, he got desperate. Once desperation levels were reached, it was extremely difficult to keep his liquid in, and he could barely concentrate on anything else.
Louis knelt on the couch because that felt the most comfortable, rocking back and forth and shoving his right hand into a death grip around his cöck. His bladder was beginning to spasm; he felt like it was screaming at him. "Fuùuuck," he muttered under his breath. He couldn't stay still. Keeping his hand on his dick, Louis got up and started to pace around the room, bouncing up and down and bending at the knees occasionally, squeezing himself and squeezing his eyes shut. This was starting to hurt. He needed to pee more than ever. Louis just wanted the feeling of letting his liquid out into the toilet, sighing in relief as the stream swirled down the drain and being rid of this immense pressure, and fùckfùckfúck he should really stop thinking about taking a wee until he was actually doing so. He could not believe he was feet away from a toilet but he wasn't allowed to use it because of his stubborn ãss of a boyfriend. As cute as he was, this was just unacceptable.
Louis gasped frantically when he felt a short spurt of pee jet out of him, boiling hot and dampening his boxers, leaving the faintest stain on the front of his khaki shorts. "Shît!" he groaned, crossing his legs quickly to prevent any further leakage. That was it. He needed to get to that toilet, and he needed to now.
Louis ran back to the bathroom, bent at the waist with a grimace on his face. He banged on the door. "Harry, I'm serious now. I have to get in there, I can't wait any longer." He stepped on his feet, almost shaking with need.
Harry chuckled. "Come on, Louis. You can wait. Give me just a few more minutes." As bad as Harry felt, this was payback.
"I don't have a 'few more minutes' to wait, Harold!" Louis exclaimed."In case you haven't been paying attention, I am absolutely desperate for a wee and I need to use the toilet before my bladder quite literally explodes."
"Well, I'm almost done cleaning the toilet for the second time, so you're in luck," Harry reasoned.
"Fùck, almost?" Louis moaned. "Shít, I don't even care anymore. Harry, please let me in. I don't care. I'll wee in the shower or something. I just have to go." His bladder felt like a seventy pound weight in his abdomen now. His stomach was protruding and even breathing made Louis have to go worse. He really didm't know how he was still holding on. On a hypothetical desperation scale, he was definitely way past ten.
"That's disgusting, Lou, come on," Harry scolded. Louis scoffed, because he knew full well that Harry wee'd in the shower sometimes.
"Do you actually think I care right now?" Louis asked, because honestly. Another spurt, this one longer than the last, escaped Louis' death grip. It took Louis even longer to get this one under control, and his khaki shorts darkened quickly. The píss was so hot, but the release didn't help at all. It made him feel like he had to go worse, and he wanted so badly to just let it all go already. He banged on the door as hard as he could. "HARRY!" he screamed. "You have to let me in. I'm absolutely dying for a wee, please Harry, I'm going to wee m'self!" he said in a panicky tone.
"Are you really that desperate, Louis?" Harry asked calmly, flushing the toilet. Louis groaned in agony hearing water hitting porcelain, and began to hop in place. "Fùck, fùck, fùck, yes, Harry, yes!" I'll wee in the sink, I'll wee in the shower fuck, I'll wee in the dāmn trash can, just let me in." He was about ready to cry, he had to go so bad.
Finally, another spurt hovered at the tip of Louis' coçk, and Louis knew this was the spurt that was the barrier between dry(ish) pants and absolutely soaked ones. Going into full panic mode, Louis ran to the kitchen, looking for a solution. He grabbed an extra large dish towel and ran back to the bathroom.
Bunching the towel between his legs, Louis sunk down to the floor in desperation, his spasming bladder getting the best of him. He wiggled back and forth as he felt his pee finally starting to escape in rivulets, not being able to be stopped. "I'm literally weeing myself, Harold," Louis called out with a groan, feeling defeated.
Harry sighed from behind the bathroom door. He had to let it go. He finally, finally opened the door and saw Louis bent on the floor with the towel between his legs trying his best to keep his full to the brim bladder from exploding. Harry's eyes widened.
After a few seconds, it registered to Louis that the door was opened. He gasped in astonishment and ran the three feet to the toilet he needed so badly, piss rushing down his bare legs as he ran.
And then, finally, he was letting go where he wanted. Louis' knees and legs shook as he leaned forward and aimed his leaking côck at the toilet. He let out a mildly pornographic groan as his piss escaped loudly and quickly.
Harry watched in amusement and slight arousal as Louis relieved himself. He watched as Louis struggled to keep his balance. To Louis it felt like the weight of a thousand pounds had just been lifted off of his shoulders and he felt so free. His bladder still ached from the sheer holding, but he felt so empty and relieved. He sighed and leaned in to Harry, who had stood behind him in fears of his boyfriend falling over from the relief.
"You got wee on my nice clean floors," Harry joked.
Louis punched his arm. "Fùck, I'll clean it for you. I'll probably have to go again soon, anyway; you know what tea does to me..." That Harry did.
"Gotta admit though," Harry said, batting his eyes and brushing Louis' fringe out of his eyes. "That was pretty hot..." Louis' eyes darkened for a moment, but then he remembered just how he was feeling just five minutes ago, and he felt very conflicted on how to respond to that.
Louis Tomlinson was a bit of a walking contradiction