Kurt took a careful sip of his still-scalding mocha as he dumped his change into the tip jar on the counter near the register and rushed out the door of the tiny cafe. As busy as he was today, Isabelle had demanded he at least grab another coffee, instead of working through lunch as he had planned. He'd argued with her off and on for over an hour, but reluctantly gave in when she promised him first peek at the new winter samples that had just come in that morning.
He made his way through the heavy sidewalk traffic, careful not to slip on any patches of ice, back to the chaos of the Vogue offices. He spent the rest of his day on the telephone at his desk, tracking down lost shipments and running messages back and forth to his boss, nursing his coffee and hoping for a minute of peace to gather his bearings.
His shift was almost over and he was slipping into his coat when the phone rang yet again. He answered it, knowing Isabelle was expecting an important phone call from the magazine's editor-in-chief. He did his job, scribbling down one last return phone number and name to run to her. He managed to clock out several minutes later, running behind schedule.
He needed to use the restroom, but it wasn't urgent just yet and he knew he didn't have time. He saw Blaine coming around the corner just outside his office as he grabbed his keys, and the two hurried out of the building towards the subway station to catch their ride home.
The traffic was light given that it was rush hour, and as they arrived, Kurt checked the time on his phone. They'd made it a bit early.
"We have a few minutes and I need to use the restroom." Kurt said quietly, leaning in closer to Blaine so he could be heard. Blaine nodded and they went off, following the overhead signs leading to the facilities.
Unfortunately for Kurt, they were greeted by a big yellow 'Out of Order' sign. The flood of water seeping out under the door made it clear that the janitor's cart parked a few feet away wasn't there for decoration. There were no other restrooms in the station, and they didn't have time to wait.
"Do you want to go see if we can find one somewhere else?" Blaine asked with a shrug. "There has to be something close by."
Kurt pulled out his phone again and swiped the screen. "No time. Let's just go home. I'll manage."
They boarded their train, shuffling through the crowd and trying to stay as close as they could to avoid losing each other in the mass of people. It's standing room only, not that Kurt had bothered to try to grab a seat. He knew he would just end up giving it to some little old lady lugging her shopping bags.
They took the same train home together every day now that Blaine had landed a job close to the Vogue offices. It was something they looked forward to, knowing they would each get home at the same time as the other on days Blaine had to work. It made the nights more relaxed, and made dinner planning so much easier. Plus, neither could complain about being forced to lean against each other for the forty-five minutes or so of the ride.
At least that's how it was on a normal day. At that moment though, all Kurt could think about was how fast his bladder was filling. The walk to the station must have awoken his bladder after mostly sitting in one spot all day. Now, though, all of the coffee and every sip of water he had consumed since the morning was making itself known. He crossed his legs and leaned closer to Blaine.
He managed fine for the first half of the trip, doing his best to ignore the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen, when the train stopped and some jerk looking down at his phone almost knocked him over while leaving. Blaine was able to catch him before he fell on his ass, but not before he lost a few drops from the jolt.
"You okay?" Blaine asked.
Kurt adjusted the strap of his bag and looked at the front of his jeans. Thankfully, he hadn't leaked much and the fabric showed nothing. "Yeah. I'm okay."
As stops ticked by and people boarded and exited the car, Kurt grew more and more desperate. He was doing everything he could to hold back, short of just reaching down and grabbing at his crotch like a child. He checked the time on his phone again, and knew they were almost home.
A sharp contraction of his stomach muscles reminded him not to get too excited just yet. He crossed his legs as tight as he could and hunched down, pretending to check the laces of one of his boots. He slid his bag in front of himself and discretely squeezed his cock through his clothes as hard as he could. It took several long seconds before he was able to stand back up again.
"When we get home, first thing I'm going to do is run to the toilet and pee for ten minutes straight." Kurt shuffled his feet as he leaned in closer to speak to Blaine. "And if you even consider getting between me and bathroom door, the wedding is off."
Kurt shuffled his feet back and forth steadily, leaning forward with his legs crossed, counting down the seconds until the train would stop at their platform. He inched his way closer to the door, determined to be the first ones out. Even unbuttoning the top of his jeans hadn't eased the pressure inside. He'd lost a few more drops, and while they still hadn't shown, he could feel a wet spot on the cotton of his boxer-briefs. He knew if it happened again, everyone would be able to see it.
Finally the train stopped for them, and Kurt was pulling Blaine out of the doors before they'd completely opened. He knew there was no restroom at this stop, so he didn't bother to look. He pushed their way through the crowd and headed in the direction of their apartment as fast as he could move.
It's a short walk, only a few blocks, but it might as well have been miles for Kurt. His bladder was thrashing painfully inside of him, demanding release and hampering his ability to walk upright and straight. He moved as quickly as he could, but had to stop every minute or so to cross his legs and hold back the flood about to burst from him.
He took deep breaths as he went, gritting his teeth and moving as smoothly as he could, being careful to not jostle his overfull and tired bladder. Blaine tried to distract him by talking to him, trying to carry on a simple conversation about birds or books or almonds or something. Kurt wasn't listening to a word he was saying. He was too busy concentrating on not pissing himself in the middle of the pavement as he walked.
He felt himself start to drip again, and this time when he looked down, he could see a small dark stain beginning to bloom on the front of his jeans. He looked around frantically for a bush or an alley he could duck behind, and while the movies are full of people getting into trouble in dark alleys in New York, he wasn't having any luck finding one. They were out in the open, and while there wasn't a massive crowd around them, there were still plenty of people, and they were still very much in public.
By the time they made it a block and a half away from their apartment, Kurt couldn't move without leaking uncontrollably. He managed to shuffle a few more steps, and with a loud whine, his bladder gave way completely. The day's pent up urine came pouring out of him, running hot down his legs, staining his jeans dark, steaming in the cold air, and puddling in his boots. It splashed down around him as he covered his face with his hands in shame, and it just kept coming. It took over a minute and a half for it to finally stop.
When Kurt finished, Blaine moved in close to his fiancé, pulling his hands away from his face and kissing him. "It's okay. We're almost home. Why don't we get a move on before you freeze, and when we get inside, we can throw those jeans in the washer, and I'll run us a nice hot bubble bath. How does that sound?"
Kurt didn't say anything, but nodded his head as he stared down at the mess he'd made. They walked home together hand in hand, and when they'd made it inside, Blaine kept his promise. He even paid for take-out, cheesecake and all.