Omorashi Kink - One Direction One Shots

Three Little Wods

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Louis Tomlinson sighed as he pulled to a stop. Bumper to bumper traffic it was then. "Fucking hell." Louis grumbled, drumming his fingers on the wheel. He pulled a bottle of water from the compartment and sipped it, then turned his attention to his phone. May as well pass the time and text his boyfriend, Niall.

How are you?

Niall sat on the couch with his phone, boredly flicking through each channel. He put down his glass of cherryade and looked over at his phone as it vibrated.

I'm fine, you?

Louis smiled at getting a reply from Niall; only two minutes had passed but it was good to chat to him. God; he could rant to Niall now.

I'm really bored :(

Niall raised an eyebrow at this. He took another few gulps of his drink.

Why, what's happening?

Stuck in traffic..
...Interesting, Niall thought as he took a swig of his drink. Very interesting. This could play out well. He began to type eagerly.

Need a wee?

No! Honestly, no!

Play the game

No, please no?

You have to.

Louis sighed in utter defeat.
And that was how the game began. The game, see, was something Niall and Louis often played. Usually the roles were switched. Niall would be the desperate one, and Louis would 'control' him, basically. Well, Niall fancied a bit of a mix up and he was sure Louis secretly wanted it too! Only a little though. Right. Right.

Should we begin?

Louis typed, awkwardly. Niall was the master in this game, he had to decide when they began.

Yes. Any questions?

Ouch. Niall wasn't giving much away here. Louis bit his lip slightly. He hated it when Niall sounded all ominous and shit. Louis worried his lip between his teeth as he replied,

None at all.

Let us begin.

Louis didn't have time to respond.

Count the cars.

...Count the cars?

What the hell was Niall on about now?

Louis looked around restlessly, the slightest nudge from his bladder making him jiggle one leg.

...Ah. No, no. Nothing to worry about Louis. Count!

He counted. One.. two.. three.. four. There were at least four cars in front of him. Shrugging, he typed to Niall,

Four red cars.

Got any water?

Louis was puzzled momentarily until it hit him, and he shivered, feeling his blood run cold. He nodded slowly at his phone, then sighed and resumed his typing.

I do indeed.

Four gulps, please.

Louis uncapped the bottle. Balancing his phone, set on video, he lifted the bottle up and to his lips, taking four slow gulps. He hummed. It actually tasted unusually delicious on a warm day like today. His phone played back the video of him gulping and he sent it off to Niall, capping the bottle back up and sighing as he leaned against his seat. The sun radiated down on him and, with the promise that traffic would be stalled for at least a hour and a half, Louis drifted off to sleep..
He slept solidly for twenty-five minutes, confident the car wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.
As he slept, the drinks he had consumed were beginning to travel down to his bladder, settling coolly into the lower half of his stomach.
The 22-year-old twisted slightly, feeling how full he actually was, and grimaced in his sleep, knocking his knees together a little tighter. The worry on his face became more evident and his hand, once resting on his cheek, was down near to his not-exactly-very-still thigh. (Ouch. Niall, see, would've told you that this itself meant Louis was coming apart at the seams)