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They’re filming a react video, well, they filmed the react video for the main channel but continued on for XPLR Club. So they've been standing awhile.
Sam’s feet shift involuntarily, he’s not actually weaning any shoes for this video. His socked feet rub against the ground impatiently. His hands are behind his back as he watches the last clip of today.
Colby cracks a joke, his hair ruffed up from all the ridiculous movement he did for this video—hair highlighted by the blue background lights. His blue eyes meet Sam’s, crinkled and looking for a reaction. But Sam’s hardly focusing on the video.
The blonde replies with something—he's not sure what—instead he's focused on the ever present pressure against his bladder. Sam worries his lip, then blinks, trying to refocus on the video again.
His legs cross at the ankles, not noticeable by the camera, and honestly, not the most out of character stance of his. It allows his thighs to come closer, creating their own sense of pressure that attempts to distract and keep something from releasing at bay. One of his legs start to bounce.
The clip they're reacting to ends, Sam throws in his own joke, sharing a smile with Colby and letting himself believe in the false sense of security that maybe this time, he's able to hold it.
Sam has to uncross his legs to do the outro, stepping a little closer to the camera as they sign off the video. Sam flashes the camera a smile, then walks up to where it sits on the tripod.
His barely two steps jostle him, and he bites his lip hard as he turns off the camera. The simple push of a button turned into a herculean task. Sam freezes there, squeezing his eyes shut as he attempts to breath out slowly, a whine trying to ghost its way past his lips. He can hear Colby shuffling around behind him, closing the laptop lid, hanging up his hoodie, making sure the space is clean.
"You good?" Finally comes his words. Sam forces his eyes open, looking over his shoulder with a forced smile.
"Yeah man, m'good," Sam lies, the urge to squirm making his toes twitch in his socks. The blonde leaves the camera on the tripod, taking out the SD card and putting it in his pocket. Colby hums in response, but keeps his eyes on Sam—eyeing his body language.
It makes the blonde's ears burn. Sam ignores it, wincing when he moves once more, breath hitching and restarting at a faster pace. He takes off his hoodie, wearing a plain shirt underneath. Colby takes this as his queue that everything's fine, and collects the laptop to start heading back up stairs.
"Think they'll like the video? We had some pretty popular old clips in there," Colby asks as he makes his way to the staircase.
Sam blinks, still standing in the dark cloth corner of the basement. He clears his throat, then starts to move to follow Colby.
"Y-yeah," he stutters, swallowing again to get the hint of desperation out of his voice, "they’re popular clips on their own. I always see—”
Colby’s almost all the way up the stairs, opening the door to the first level as Sam takes his first step. As soon as he lifts his leg the pulse of needing to go slams into him hardly. His foot lands heavy on the first step, hands immediately gripping the railing of the stairs—body almost curling into itself.
“S-see them circulating.” He finishes, voice strained. Colby’s back is still to him, and Sam watches as he disappears fully up the stairs as the brunette continues the conversation, expecting him to follow.
“We’re putting the new sponsor in for this one right?” His voice fades out. But Sam’s stuck, his thighs squeeze together, hands white knuckling the railing as he tries not to pant. Tries not to spill his bladder over the carpeted stairs.
Shit.
He can’t move and needs to go up the stairs for the bathroom, but if he tries to take another step—
A warmth spreads like a wave in his crotch, and Sam finds his hand in between his thighs, trying to stop the inevitable. Sam whimpers, head ducked as the warmth localizes to the tip of his dick, slowly starting to leak out.
Sam peers up the stairs between the blonde hair that falls over his eyes, seeing the sunlight from the open doorway. He shakes his head, biting his lip to quell his whimpers.
“No,” he breathes out. He’s going to have an accident on the stairs, his face flushes. He was getting so much better at avoiding this, what is Colby going to think?
Wet starts to leak, creating a small but quickly emerging stain on the front of his pants. His hand twitches and curls around his length, trying to put enough pressure on it to stop him from pissing himself. He knows it's useless.
He looks at the top of the stairs again, feeling how his piss trickles down his leg, spilling over his hand. The blonde whines, other hand clutching the railing as his only support. There’s a shadow that moves beyond the doorway, and he knows Colby is coming back to look for him—wondering why he didn’t follow him up.
Sam forces his gaze to the next step on the stairs, ears burning. Footsteps approach the staircase.
“Sam?” Colby pokes his head through the doorway, and there’s silence for a few moments, “Oh.”
Sam’s piss continues to trickle down and stain the carpeted stairs. His eyes water with shame but he otherwise remains calm, this isn’t the first or last time this will happen to him—espically not in front of Colby.
He feels more than sees Colby watching him, his own eyes staying glued to the floor.
Soft footsteps walk down the steps, stopping at the middle of the short staircase.
“You’ve had an accident,” Colby notes, with no sense of judgment in his voice. Sam bites his lip, face flushing, nodding.
Colby’s feet come into view as he descended to the closest step to Sam. Spurts of his piss continue to trickle, but start to slow down, wetness soaks his thighs and down his inner pant legs. Sam hides behind his bangs, not wanting to look at Colby.
But then a hand gently grasps the underside of his chin, and tilts his head up. Sam’s watery bright blues meet Colby’s deep blue.
“You okay, Sam?” He asks gently, eyes soft and open. Sam blinks, letting himself breathe easier. He finds it does come easy, looking into Colby’s sure eyes. Colby’s hand shifts to cup Sam’s face. His hand is warm and stable. Sam finds his eyes fluttering, leaning into the touch.
Then it’s taken away, and he has the urge to whine. It must show on his face because Colby smiles at him, replacing the hand to his chin.
“Here, just sit down, okay? You gotta get cleaned up now.” And then Colby’s hands are on guiding him. One goes to the hand which still holds onto the rail with force, gently prying his fingers off of it. The other slowly trails down to the hand Sam still has shoved between his legs, fingertips brushing the skin of his wrist—asking him to give his hand up.
Sam unclutches the railing, and releases his other hand from between his thighs. Said hand glistens with his piss.
Colby then guides the blonde to sit on the step just above the ones he’s soaked. Sam sits against the wall, head touching the railing as he looks up at Colby standing on the step above him.
Colby’s hand ends up in Sam’s hair as he crouches down, then sits on the steps with Sam. This time Sam does let out a little whimper, crossing his legs as the uncomfortable lukewarm wetness that comes from soiled fabric clings to his skin.
Colby threads his fingers through Sam’s hair as he asks a question, “Why’d this happen, bud?”
Sam’s eyebrow twitches at the form of address, Colby’s usually only this soft when Sam freaks out real bad. He peers up at Colby with big blue eyes, a hint of confusion in them. Colby continues to play with his hair.
“We’re at home, you usually don’t have accidents here,” Colby clarifies.
“I just…” Sam tries to find the right answer, and tries not to shrink into himself when he can’t find one, “I forgot?”
“You—”
“And we were filming and I really didn’t notice, and by the time I did we were almost done, so, I thought I could hold it this time. I swear,” he finds himself explaining.
“Hey, hey,” Colby soothes, “it’s okay, man, you don’t have to explain yourself like that.”
The brunette shifts his weight, “Just wanted to know if there was something that made you feel like you had to hold it, because there’s usually something like that, and I really want home to be at least one of those spaces where you don’t feel like you need to do something like that.”
Sam exhales, eyes falling closed as Colby continues to what—pet him? Usually, after an accident, it takes him a while to calm down, but he finds his body relaxing easily under Colby’s hand. Colby’s right. Their home doesn’t have the same standards as everywhere else.
Sam forces his eyes open despite his body’s want to bask in the other man’s comfort, and he tries to display his appreciation through look alone.
And Colby gets it, because of course he does. He smiles that bright smile of his, happy that he made Sam happy.
“Well, okay, I gotta go get you some clothes and towels n’ shit, okay?” The brunette untangles his fingers from Sam’s hair. Sam’s body follows it, and for some reason watching Colby get up makes his eyes water. His heartrate speeds up.
“Shh, hey,” the hand is back on his head momentarily as Colby stands over him, “I’m coming right back bud, it’s okay.”
“Okay?” Colby says.
“Okay,” Sam replies with reluctance. Colby vanishes up the steps, and Sam squirms in discomfort. He pulls his knees up to his chest, laying his arms over it, and leaning his head against them.
He waits there, listening for when Colby comes back.
Familiar footsteps remember a minute or so later. The brunette’s a bit out of breath and his arms are full. The plops some items down at the top of the stairs and returns to Sam’s side. Sam raises his head from his arms.
Colby has some wet towels and wipes.
“Okay, let’s get those pants off you, hmm?” He gestures. Sam blinks, then curls his body. The blonde undoes his button, then shimmies out of his pants. When he’s done, Colby just slides them to the other end of the stair, and it falls down onto another soaked step.
Colby’s eyes roam over Sam’s exposed skin, tilting his head, “Okay, we gotta get you out of your underwear too bud, think you can do that for me?”
Sam nods, and obliges. Turning his face away as he does in embarrassment, even though it wouldn’t be the first time Colby’s done something like this.
“Thank you,” Colby says softly, “Do you want to wipe yourself down or do you want me to do it?”
Sam pauses, “What kind of question is that?” He eyes Colby.
The other man just shrugs, towel and wipes still in his hand. Sam looks at the objects, then down at himself. He clears his throat, looking away swiftly, face heating up.
“Uhm. You usually do it anyway.”
Colby takes that as the permission it is, and he taps Sam’s leg. Sam startles, but calms easily as he meets Colby’s easy expression. First Colby uses the towel that’s damp with warm water, he uses one hand to move Sam’s legs and the other to gently brush the fabric. It’s rhythmic, and Sam finds himself realizing against the wall, eyes falling closed as Colby movies onto the next leg.
Colby’s fingertips brush at the exposed skin on Sam’s hip, and Sam opens his eyes again—finding it hard to open them all the way. Colby’s crouched before him, halfway on the step above him and halfway on his step. He’s somewhat in between Sam’s legs. It’s intimate, but nothing feels like something it shouldn’t be.
The brunette's eyes speak his words, asking for permission to touch Sam’s crotch. Sam half-heartedly nods, and closes his eyes again as soon as Colby starts to move. The towel rubs against Sam’s inner thighs, then gently across his dick. The touch makes him jump a bit, but it’s okay, because those gentle touches are just Colby.
Colby will take care of him.
Sam sighs in content. Colby pauses his movements.
“You okay?” He questions. Sam blinks his eyes open, tense, skin pink.
“Uhm,” Sam blinks again. Woah. He was really getting like—really fuckin’ floaty? He tries to respond to Colby, but the words aren’t coming easy.
“M’fine, it’s good,” he reassures. What’s… What’s going on?
Sam forces his eyes to be open, following Colby’s movements as he now starts to wipe Sam down with the baby wipes. The blonde keeps his eyes locked on the other man, trying to stamp down whatever weird response his brain is trying to do at this situation—it’s different then the needy vulnerability he usually possesses after an accident. What’s happening?
Colby gets up again, taking the towel and using wipes with him. Sam whines, hand twitching toward him. Woah, what?
Sam clears his throat, “Uhm, sorry.” Colby tilts his head, then he briefly goes back up the stairs to grab fresh clothes.
Colby taps Sam’s ankle, “Here, put this on.”
Sam moves to obey immediately, putting on his unsoiled briefs and joggers. When he's done he sits back down properly on the unsoaked step, looking at Colby for his next instruction. The brunette’s hand finds its place on Sam;s head again.
“Good job, not bad, see? It’s all good.” Colby assures. Sam practically preens, leaning heavily into the other man’s hand. Sam hums. He lets the fingers run gently through his hair again, body melting under the constant touch.
When Colby’s hand moves, he doesn’t really register it until it tilts his head up by his chin.
“You still with me?” Colby’s voice says. Sam hums. Colby’s thumb caressing the skin next to his lips.
“Sam?” Colby asks again. Sam forces his eyes open, blearily looking up at his best friend. Those comforting blue eyes of his are full of concern, before they soften with realization, “Oh.”
“You’re totally out of it bud, do you know that?” Colby says with a hint of amusement, “Come back to me, Sammy.”
Colby’s fingers tap the side of his head, disturbing Sam’s peace. The blonde blinks at him with confusion.
“Hey Sammy, can you do something for me?” Colby asks simply.
Sam blinks, then nods.
“I need you to come back to me, yeah? Can you stand up?” Colby guides him to stand up. Sam stands up too fast, the motion disorientates him and he shakes his head. Then Colby’s grip almost leaves him, causing Sam’s head to snap to the man. But he rests a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“Let’s go upstairs?” Colby suggests, then starts to walk up the stairs, his fingertips not leaving Sam’s shoulder. Sam follows him, one hand using the railing. They both end up back on the first floor. Sam blinks hard, and stumbles.
He stares at Colby, who searches the blonde’s expression and comes to some conclusion because he just smiles.
Woah.
What the fuck was that? He shakes his head again, and stares down behind him at the stairs then to Colby, who’s moved to start cleaning the carpet, supplies in hand.
He started feeling floaty the moment Colby started to pet his hair, and now that’s he snapped out of it… He flushes. Shit.
He plays with the fabric of his shirt, watching as Colby cleans the stairs.
He doesn’t really know what happened but…
He exhales, turning away from his best friend who always does so much for him.
But he liked it.