EIGHTH WONDER; memeulous & imallexx

19.5; redo

george memeulous CAN and WILL piss in ur mouth and theres nothing u can do about it. this is written out of pure spite

cw for omo/piss yet again lol so if u dont like that stuff and know it will make u uncomfy then just dont read it instead of putting urself through that yeah

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They never talk about the incident – which George has to admit he's somewhat thankful for. He would probably hide in his room for a week if they were to talk about it. Alex had wordlessly paid for dry cleaning on the chair. The only reason George knew is because he saw the receipt for it on the side the next morning.

George is silently thankful, and he thinks Alex knows it. What Alex doesn't know, though, is that he can't actually stop thinking about what happened.

He's spent enough restless nights afterwards shamefully thinking of it and how unbelievably relieving it was to just let go. George is shameful to even fucking think of pissing himself as arousing, but it happens anyway.

Soon though, his thoughts move to Alex. The other man had been so...considerate, non-judging in the situation. While Alex hadn't exactly helped George by giving him something he could actually fucking piss in, he had helped in another strange way. Thoughts of fingertips pressing into his abdomen, just specific and practiced enough that George thinks Alex has done that before – and wasn't that a concept that stuck with him.

Something creeps into his head after that, dark and unnerving, yet never leaving. He feels even more disgusted with himself over that than when he felt turned on by pissing himself.

George doesn't think of it. He tries not to think of it. Yet, as he's sat next to Alex and absolutely smashing the other man at FIFA, it seems to crop up in his head again.

Alex is drinking an ungodly amount of water, refilling his cup every other break in the game. George can't help but wonder how much Alex can actually take before it's too much and he ends up like George had last week. He hates himself for the flush of heat in his chest at that.

"You're doing so shit," George coughs out. "I thought you had a bangin' ultimate team now? Or was that all lies?"

Alex snorts and takes a sip of his water. "Wasn't a lie, mate." He leaves it at that, apparently, because they're back to chasing a digital football around a field again.

George doesn't know when they both stopped playing and when Alex started playing Will online, but he's silently thankful for the distraction.

"Don't bet any money on it this time." George tells the other boy. "Please don't. We have rent next week."

"The only thing I'm betting is that I'm gonna absolutely batter WillNE." Alex tuts, shaking his head as Will scores another goal.

George snorts and watches as Alex sighs in frustration, bouncing his leg as he concentrates on the game. The glass on the table catches George's eye and, shamefully, he considers filling it up while Alex is distracted. Just to see what happens.

(George knows what would happen. Alex would simply put down the controller and go to the bathroom, that's it. His weird, fucked up imagination and fantasies are haunting him a bit too much now, if he really thought for a second Alex would ever wet himself like George had. Alex isn't that much of a mess to do anything like that.)

He shakes it off and concentrates on his phone and the game, looking up everytime Alex makes a noise of triumph or defeat. More so the latter than anything, but George doesn't expect the other man to win after how many games Will has won between them.