It was a Tuesday night following a Smackdown taping, and Sheamus was out with Roman Reigns, celebrating and getting drinks from fans. They couldn't drink everything they were bought, but they were both drunk. They had decided to stop at a small, out-of-the-way place far from the arena, so they weren't inundated with fans, and the few who were around were pleasant. They took few pics once they'd had their photo ops. If they called anyone who cared to show up for a peek, the bar would probably be closed by the time they arrived.

Sheamus had to go potty, but so far Roman wouldn't let him. He claimed it was better to wait, because once a guy went, the seal was broken. He tried to take a sip off the glass of beer that had been set before him, but it went straight to his bladder. He tugged at Roman's coat sleeve. "I can't stand it anymore, I need to go potty now," he whispered urgently.

Roman looked over at Sheamus squirming as discretely as he could, and felt his own close-to-bursting bladder twinge. He kept a straight face though, and nodded. "Yes, let's go to the restroom."

They excused themselves from their fans. Sheamus followed Roman to the men's room. Roman looked stoic and cool, but Sheamus picked up something tight in his walk, and slightly hunched in his posture. Big brother had to go potty, too.

Roman only lost his cool briefly, when he tried the door handle and found it locked. He winced, and knocked sharply on the door. Sheamus had already lost his cool, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot in an embarrassing potty dance. "I'm going to wee myself!" He told big brother Roman. In sheer seconds, he would.

Roman tried the door handle on the ladies' room, and it opened. He hurried inside, already undoing his black cargo pants. Sheamus rushed in behind him, raking down his jeans, but Roman had already claimed the toilet. Sheamus whimpered, and big brother moved over to make room for him to wee, too.

"I'm sorry, lil bro," Roman apologized. "I couldn't wait one more second."

"Neither could I," Sheamus said.

"Better make this one count. No more stopping until we get to the hotel."

Sheamus realized he'd leaked a little in his pale blue jeans on the way to the toilet. Since he wasn't wearing anything underneath, the wet spot was very obvious. He blushed and turned away from the big guy, who was amazingly still weeing. There weren't any paper towels in the restroom, only a roller towel, hung high. Even if it hadn't been hung high, he wouldn't have tried to dry his jeans on it. He took a handful of toilet paper instead and tried to lessen the damage. But, alas, it was hopeless.

Big brother finally finished weeing, and noticed little brother's little accident. He gave Sheamus a quick snug. "It's okay, bro, you can wear my coat."

Roman took of his leather coat, and Sheamus shed his Adidas hoodie. They traded, and the leather was long enough to hide the accident. Sheamus hugged him. "Thanks, bro."

Roman squeezed him back. "Let's get out of here."

They left the restroom, then the bar. Out in the parking lot, Roman grabbed Sheamus's bag from the trunk of their rental car and handed it to him. It was his big traveling bag, not the small gym bag he'd grabbed before the show, and in which he'd forgotten to pack pants. Sheamus unzipped the big bag and dug up a pair of bright green briefs with black waistband and y-front details.

Roman smiled, they were sexy on his guy. "You're not going to go potty in those, right?"

Sheamus gave him a sassy grin. "I'll try not to."

"Good boy." Roman rubbed Sheamus's head, tousling his mohawk out of place.

Sheamus pulled out a pair of purposely faded and destroyed black jeans, and Roman put the bag back in the trunk. While he drove, Sheamus changed in the passenger seat. He put the wet jeans in his gym bag with his wrestling necessities. Happy and dry, among other things, he leaned against big brother and snugged him. "How far to our hotel?" He asked.

"I haven't booked at any," Roman admitted. "I wanted to knock out some of the driving to Virginia when no one's on the road."

"Good idea, bro." Then, remembering all they'd had to drink, Sheamus had to ask: "Are you sure you're good to do so?"

"I think so... Hand me a bottle of water."

Sheamus did. "Want an energy drink? Sober you up."

"No thanks. If I keep driving long, I might want to stop for coffee, though. My stomach couldn't handle it now." Roman put a hand to his belly, which wasn't feeling it's best. He wished he'd thrown up before getting behind the wheel.

"You okay, big guy?"

"Yeah," Roman lied. "Can you get me another water?"

Sheamus did, and hoped Roman would need to stop for a potty break soon. He himself already needed to go, rather badly, He'd broken the seal once again. "Ah...bro?" He ventured, nervously.

"Already?" Roman asked, knowing what Sheamus wanted.

Sheamus nodded, and wiggled.

"Well, you'd better hold it until we get to a rest area or truck stop, Shay. I've been drinking, and if we run afoul of the law, I'll get busted."

Sheamus undid his jeans and adjusted the waistband of his little green and black pants. He adjusted his posture and tried not to think about weeing. He leaned forward to look at the GPS, but the pressure on his bladder made the task impossible. "How far are we from either?"

Roman fiddled with the device. "There's a rest area up ahead...about thirty miles."

"How far is that in kilometers?" Sheamus asked desperately.

"I don't know, bro. And stop squirming. I have to go, too, and you don't see me doing that."

Sheamus tried not to fidget so much and concentrated on his muscles instead. Roman turned on the stereo.

Roman pulled into one of the closest parking spots to the rest area and parked. "I don't think I can make it to the toilet!" Sheamus cried.

"Yes you will," Roman encouraged. "Come on, I'll help you."

Sheamus shook his head. "No, I've got to wee right here!" He threw open the car door and immediately started going potty.

"Shay!" Roman scolded, and opened the back passenger door to give Sheamus more privacy before heading towards the building in a careful walk.

"Hey, Roman!"

Startled, Roman froze. He had to, or he would unleash a flood. He tried to look casual as he searched the darkness for the owner of the voice, his friend and former Shield mate, Dean Ambrose.

Dean hugged him from behind, and a brief, sizzling sound escaped Roman's lips. He blushed and held himself, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Dean had nearly made him piss his pants.

Dean released him. "Uh-oh, gotta pee, huh?"

"Yeah." Roman continued his tight steps towards the building.

"Maybe I should tickle you," Dean threatened.

"Oh, fuck no. I'd piss all over the place."

Dean got the doors to the lobby and the men's room for Roman, and hung with him, chatting happily while Roman used the trough. Dean, Jimmy, Jey, and Naomi had stayed and partied in Chicago after the show, and had had a crazy time, but none of them wanted to stay overnight. So Dean had begged the twins and Naomi for a ride to wherever they were staying for the night.

Roman nodded at what could be the right times, they were both drunk, and Dean, who talked a blue streak when he was sober, didn't even seem to take a breath when he was fucked up. Roman could smell weed on Dean's jacket, too. Dean continued yapping about how he'd pissed off Naomi, and wondered aloud if he'd been left here.

Roman washed his hands. "Was that why they stopped?" He teased.

"Actually, I forgot why we stopped... Hmm..." Dean overexaggerated a thoughtful state for Roman's amusement, pacing back and forth, face in hand, elbow in other hand. "Oh, I got it! Naomi wanted to make sure I wouldn't pee in the rental car again, so she ordered me to use the men's room."

"Are you sure it wasn't an excuse to ditch you?" Although Roman and Dean were tight, onscreen and off, Dean could get annoying sometimes, and he had sympathy for his cousins and Naomi.

"No... They wouldn't do that... Would they?" Dean asked, and started pissing in the trough.

"I don't know," Roman replied. "See you later, travel safe."

He was close enough to the door to cut off Dean's reply. He hoped Dean's ride hadn't left. Usually, he wouldn't mind giving Dean a lift, but Roman really wanted to spend time with Sheamus alone. In the parking lot, he caught sight of the twins and Naomi getting out of a bright yellow sedan and waved, not stopping to chat. He headed back to his own rental, a gray Hyundai Sonata, and Sheamus, who'd managed not to get busted pissing in public. As he sat down in the driver's seat, he realized he was getting tired. He was looking forward to relaxing and playing with Sheamus in their hotel room before falling asleep until at least noon.

"Now this time I mean it," Roman told Sheamus as he guided the car back on to the freeway. "No more stopping until we get to a hotel. But, I plan on stopping soon."

Before long, Roman saw a sign for a casino hotel and decided to stay there, if they had a suitable vacancy. Since the lot wasn't full, there was a pretty good chance they had plenty of open rooms. He pulled into the circular drive, left Sheamus in the car, and went inside. It was posh, high-class. Roman inquired the woman at the front desk, and registered himself for a double queen bed room. He grabbed the key cards, and went back to park the car.

"Did you get a room, big guy?" Sheamus asked.

Roman smiled. "I did." He handed his brother/lover the cards and drove into the lot. He spotted the yellow sedan. So, Dean was here, too, and his cousins.

He found a spot near a side entrance and parked. They went through the process of unloading their luggage and carrying it upstairs to their third floor room, number 317, which Sheamus believed was lucky, as it was St. Patrick's Day. Roman thought that was cute.

The room was large, luxurious, and anonymous, with a patio, hot tub, and mini-bar. Sheamus set down his two bags and looked longingly at the restroom.

Roman noticed. "You can hold it. Come, let's fix a bed. "

Together, they stripped one of the queen beds down to the mattress cover. They maneuvered Sheamus's PVC mattress protector, and a thrown away sheet over it.

Sheamus hopped up on the bed and wiggled. "Can I go potty now?"

"Just chill for a bit, bro. Want a drink?" Roman peered into the mini-bar.

"Water, please."

"Yeah, I think I've had enough of the hard stuff myself." He got two bottles of water and handed one to Sheamus. Then, he went to his bags and stripped. Sheamus watched with adoration and appreciation as Roman shed his clothing. He selected a pair of gray boxer briefs he knew Sheamus liked to see on him when they played; they showed precum spots so well, and clung to his manhood tightly.

Sheamus stripped down to his pants, too. Roman turned up the heat, and joined him on the bed. Instantly, they began making out, passionate and heavy, having been denied intimacy for much of the past few days on the road, days full of practice and shows. They stroked and caressed each other, loving the feel of each others skin, and trying to convey that love through their fingertips. They entwined their lower bodies and grinded on each other, their cocks long, hot stones held tight in their briefs. Roman shifted, so he was on top, and before he leaned back down to kiss Sheamus, Sheamus saw how much precum had already leaked out of the big guy. It looked like he'd already cum, but Sheamus knew that couldn't be. Roman was very vocal, and loud, when he came. Thinking about that made Sheamus want to cum, but he couldn't, not when he needed to go potty so badly.

He squirmed beneath his lover more meaningfully, and Roman got the hint. He sat down beside little brother on the bed, and felt his tummy. Big brother pressed on his bladder, and try as he might, Sheamus weed a little in his cute green pants. He looked up at Roman in dread.

But, the big guy only smiled, and stroked him through the wet pants. "It's okay, bro, you can go now."

Sheamus let go and shivered with relief as he soaked his pants and made a big puddle in bed. Roman groped him the whole time, then scooped up handfuls of the wee and playfully splashed him.

"All better now?" Big brother asked.

Little brother nodded, and splashed more wee from the puddle on to his pants.

"Good. My turn." Roman struck a pose on the bed, kneeling and jutting out his crotch, like a model in a dirty magazine. Sheamus admired the view, tight pants, precum stain, and above the waistband of the pants, the big guy's bladder was bulging.

Sheamus wanted Roman to go potty all over him, and scooted closer. He leaned over to kiss him, and whisper his desire. Roman grinned, and nodded.

"Leave the pants on, please," Sheamus begged, as he layed back in the bed puddle.

"Just for you, bro," Roman replied, sensually as he straddled his lover. He leaned down to kiss and touch, and Sheamus felt the hot wee flooding his lap. He tugged Roman's pants down to his hips, to make his mickey pop out, the wee shot up Sheamus's chest. He moaned, and rubbed it in, delighting in the feel of his slick, wet skin. He tried to catch some in his mouth, but he didn't try too hard, he didn't particularly care for the taste after big brother had been drinking. The puddle they were laying in deepened, pure naughty pleasure. They kissed and massaged each others wet skin madly, fraught with passion, desire, and something primal.

Their pants slipped off, and they rubbed each others mickeys; the wee made amazing lube, and soon Roman was groaning, and beginning to curse under his breath. "Mmmmm..." Sheamus tried to keep his cries subdued. He was sometimes embarrassed when Roman got so loud, especially when he was all but certain their hotel "neighbors", or even random people walking past their room, had heard.

Even though they were drunk, and silly, big brother knew his body well, and before long, Sheamus made squirties all over himself and the big guy. "Oh, Roman," he cried softly, as the jiz shot from his mickey. But, he managed to keep rubbing big brother, knowing by experience, (the feeling of his mickey, not to mention the animal-like growling), that Roman was about to explode.

"FUCK!" Roman shouted, and delivered a superman punch to the wall, at the pinnacle of pleasure.

Then they were cuddling, spent. After awhile, Sheamus began to shiver, the puddle had begun to cool.

"Cold?" Big brother asked.

Sheamus nodded.

Roman snuggled him close. "Don't worry, I'll warm us up." He loved pissing in bed, and had to go anyway, he always did soon after cumming. He rewarmed the puddle and smiled lovingly at his sub, "Last chance to go potty before bed, bro. Do you need to go?"

Sheamus shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

Roman felt his tummy. "Yes, you do. Come on, out with it."

Sheamus weed a little.

"All of it, Shay. I don't want you to wet the bed, well, the other bed."

Sheamus obeyed.

"Good boy," Roman snugged him.

When the puddle got cold again, they got up and toweled off. They went to sleep in the other bed, tired and satisfied.