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Hey everyone! I'm new here, but have been a super long-time lurker. I started this story a while ago, pre-pandemic, but have recently been interested in continuing working on it. Full disclosure, I initially posted this on reddit years ago, but I'm such a fan of a lot of the writing and discussion that happens here, so I figured I'd throw my hat in the ring. I would love any and all feedback and criticism y'all might have! Could help me as I start mapping out where I'd like to go with the story! This is a gay story, so if that's not your thing, fair warning. There's also some cursing. And finally, though these first three chapters don't involve it (beyond a passing mention), there will be messing involved in this story later on. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter One: A New Beginning I nearly slipped on a pile of loose dirt as I sprinted around a corner into a narrow alleyway. My heart thumping out of my chest, I swiftly dodged a heap of trash bags and a stained couch missing one of its cushions. I couldn’t look back. There was no time. I wasn’t sure quite why I was so afraid, or where exactly I was running, but regardless I zoomed my way out of the alley and around the corner onto the adjacent street. Suddenly finding myself weaving through a million cars and taxis and dogs and pedestrians, I just about lost my mind. I could feel some sort of doom trailing behind me, crashing like some sort of tidal wave. But I couldn’t think about it. I swear, it was as if all that I was, my entire essence had become just RUN RUN RUN RUN. If I was even breathing, it was light-years faster than my pace, like, a thousand breaths a second. Don’t breathe, I thought, just run. Don’t turn around, just run. Don’t think.... Oh god, what’s happening? I looked down at my legs leaping across the pavement, but something was wrong. They weren’t moving. I could feel my body piercing the air, speeding down the street like some deranged, out of control bullet, but my feet just hung in place. Staring at my limp legs, I could hear the mighty flood approaching, only inches behind me. Before I could even turn to meet my fate, I was consumed by immense, devastating crash, cracking my bones and crumbling my body beneath it. I sensed the wave pulling me in, breaking into every crevice of the world, drenching everything in darkness. ******** “Jesus fuck!” Without warning, I jolted awake, out of breath. Blinded by the sun, I looked over at my brother hunched over at the wheel. “It’s called a blinker, shit head!” he swerved his truck a little, going to town on the horn. “What the hell, Jake?” I scratched the sleep out of my eyes. “Sorry dude, the road’s filled with jackasses today,” Jake turned and looked at me, adopting the same annoying singsong voice he used to tease me with back when we were younger. “And good morning Zachy, hope you enjoyed your little nap while I had to drive here in silence.” “Screw you, man.” I yawned and stretched upright in my seat, trying to get my bearings. How long had I slept? We seemed to be cruising at a decent pace down the highway. I took a few heavy breaths and my pulse finally started to slow down. I grabbed my phone out of the passenger door. 11:20pm. We probably still had a good hour or so before we arrived. “Look, I’m sorry,” I said as I opened up facebook out of habit. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.” Jake looked back at the road. “You gonna need to change soon?” “What? Come on Jake, are you seriously... no, I’m fine, okay?” I blushed, and turned to look out my window. “Sorry Zach,” Jake chuckled. “Just askin’. We still got a ways to go.” “Well, I’m good, so....” I didn’t even finish my thought as I buried my attention into my phone. Truth is, I didn’t know if I was dry or not. Look, it’s super embarrassing, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but to be totally honest... I’ve always had issues controlling, I guess you’d say, my bathroom habits. Like, it’s a thing. Has been my whole life. Forgetting a few random incidents over time, I pretty much stopped regularly pooping myself back when I was seven years old, and by the time I started 8th grade when I was thirteen, my daytime wetting mostly went away. However, no matter how much I cringe, or how many hours before bed I stop drinking, or what pill or nasal spray or alarm my parents gave me, I never quite outgrew wetting the bed. Just imagine that! Being nineteen, about to enter your Sophomore year at a big, prestigious university, top of your class, a solid group of friends... and you still piss your friggin' pants. I mean, who wants to be, let alone be friends with, a guy who has to wear diapers to bed, and on long trips, and sometimes even to long exams or movies, just to avoid staining their clothes and furniture? Even though it’s been almost two decades, I still find myself constantly shocked and disgusted with myself. Not really finding much of anything interesting on Facebook (no surprise there), I subtly crossed my legs and reached my hand down to feel my crotch. Charming, I know. I sighed and relaxed my shoulders. There was no denying it. I was wet. Not even that, I was soaked. I can tell you, wearing an adult diaper at all (especially these big overnight ones my parents got me) is thick no matter what, but a diaper full of pee is a whole other story. Rather than the tight, stiff padding I’d felt when I put this diaper on before the ride, my hand was now greeted with a super thick, mushy bulb of squishiness covering my groin. Instinctively, I lifted my butt and felt underneath. Still firm and flat... still dry down there. “You okay there, buddy?” I turned to see Jake staring at me feeling myself up. “It’s cool if you do need to change.” “Dude, drop it. I’m fine,” I pouted back at him. I hated that I still had this problem, but not as much as I absolutely loathed that anyone on this planet, especially my brother, knew about it. At least none of my college friends had found out yet. “Look Zach, I’m not bustin’ your balls or anything. It’s just when we’re living together this year, especially if I’m gonna have to drive you around and shit, I mean... there’s no use being weird about it, right? I already know, I don’t give a shit any more, and it’s gonna be pretty hard to hide, so... whatever you’re pissed about, just try to get over it.” Of course he had to use the word pissed. “I’ll last the rest of the way, okay? It’s cool.” I rolled my eyes and landed them back at my phone. I hated every second of this. “Whatever you say, man. Just let me know.” Jake turned on his blinker and merged to the left, and I swear I could see a slight grin on his face. I was happy to be getting out of the dorms and to start my Sophomore year, and while I was mostly pumped to share a small house with my Junior brother, I couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t make it easy on me. Chapter Two: Moving In By the time my brother pulled up into the driveway of our new house, I was desperate to get inside. Not only was I just ready to be away from him after his frank discussion about my... needs... I also seriously needed to run to the bathroom. It wasn’t long after Jake and I stopped talking that I could feel the urge to pee slowly creeping up on me. Even though I was already wearing protection, there was no way I was going to use it consciously, especially since I’d already wet it during my unexpected nap. After all, what was the point of denying I might need to change if I was just gonna end up leaking all over Jake’s leather seats? Before Jake had even fully come to a stop, I was already busting out of the truck and sprinting up the steps too our new house. Focused on the ever increasing pain from my bladder, I grabbed the handle of the front door and pressed my whole weight against it. Nothing. I was stopped dead in my tracks. “Slow down there, man, I still have the keys,” Jake laughed behind me. I whirled around and watched him slowly step onto the driveway, digging through a large envelope full of our move-in supplies. I don’t know why I assumed the house would be open. “Well hurry up Jake, jeez, “ I pleaded, gritting my teeth. “What’s your rush? Just use your diaper.” Was he serious right now? “Shut up, man!” “Well that’s what it’s for, right?” Walking up to me, he pulled a key out and handed it over. I immediately grabbed it and jammed it into the lock. “Well you don’t have to say it out loud.” I struggled for a second, before I finally got the key in and turned it open. “I’m just messing with you, Zach. No one’s even around.” “Whatever.” Even though we’d both toured this house just a few months earlier, it still took me a good moment to remember where the bathroom was. Feeling like my bladder was essentially the gate of Helm’s Deep just shy of bursting open by a torrential flood of Orcs, I rushed down the hallway near the kitchen and nearly threw myself at the toilet once I found it. Without hesitation I jerked open my jeans zipper and shoved down the top of my boxer briefs and diaper. Pee was already trickling out of my dick, but I didn’t have time to care care. I adjusted my aim the best I could and let it loose. Ohhhhh god, it felt so good. In a haze of euphoria, the stream slowed down to a stop. I opened my eyes for what felt like the first time and turned around, only to see Jake standing in the doorway. “Dude, what the hell?” I shouted as I tried to tuck my junk back in and hide the diaper with my shirt. “Enjoying the friggin' show?” Jake just laughed. “I still think it’s funny you won’t say fuck.” “Well fuck off, how about that?” He raised his eyebrows and laughed even harder. I even surprised myself with that one. “Well shit, look at you. Come help me unload when you’re ready.” With that, he left. I slammed the door shut (should’ve done that before) and, letting out a long, beleaguered breath, I checked the damage. The toilet seat was covered with a puddle of my yellow piss, and of course I’d managed to get more than a few spots on my pants in the process. Welp, at least I didn’t downright, full-on pee my pants. Hearing Jake throwing down some heavy boxes out in the living room, I ripped open the four tapes on my diaper and balled it up on the counter. Trying to hurry and get out of there, I froze and caught a quick glance of myself in the mirror. My stubble was coming in pretty dark, which I thought actually looked pretty good. I’d taken a risk over the summer chopping off my long high school locks and getting one of those cuts with the shaved sides with longer hair on top. I had been so used to my old shaggy style that I wasn’t sure how much I liked this new look... I’ve always been a bit lanky and goofy, and I guess I just didn’t have the confidence to sport what I thought was such a bold, adult haircut. I had to admit though, seeing myself there with my slicked back, dark brown hair, with a solid 4 o’clock (at most) shadow, I couldn’t help but think that I was a pretty darn good looking man. I buttoned up my now loose jeans and headed back out the door, feeling satisfied with myself. “Hey, come help me out with the bookcases.” My brother had already gotten four or five big boxes into the house, and had worked up a small sweat. Neither of us was particularly athletic, but dang if we couldn’t get hard work done when we put our minds to it. The next couple hours were mostly uneventful, just moving our crap into the house. We figured it would be best to just get everything in and sort it out into their respective rooms later. The less time struggling out in the hot summer sun, the better. After getting the bulk of the boxes and bins, we helped each other carry our beds and furniture into our rooms, and together we set up a nice little couch and coffee table left over from Jake’s old house. It was well past 3 in the afternoon when things started slowing down. I pried open one of our kitchen boxes and got out a cup to pour myself some water as Jake grabbed a pack of toilet paper and ran off to use the bathroom. I chugged down almost the entire glass when I realized my crotch was feeling a little damp. I glanced down only to see a sizable wet spot right in the middle of my jeans. Crap. Crap crap crap! I had been so focused on lugging heavy boxes back and forth that I hadn’t even noticed the urge to pee. How long had it been like that? Did my brother notice? Suddenly I heard Jake yell out my name. “What’s up?” I shouted back, trying hard to rub the wet spot dry with my hands. “You’re shitting me, right?” He called out again. I chugged down my second glass and I could hear Jake making his way down the hallway back out to the main room. The second he turned the corner, my heart sank. There he stood, holding my used diaper up like he was a hunter, showing off his latest kill. Chapter Three - New Start, Same Problems I stood there, acutely aware of the wet patch across the front of my pants, my brother gaping at me and holding up my old, soggy diaper. I didn’t know what to say. “Look, I know there was no trash can in there yet, but like... you could’ve at least taken this to the garbage out front, or something.” With his scrunched up nose and furrowed brow, he made no effort to show how disgusted he was. Or was he disappointed? Probably both. “And dude,” he continued, “You gotta clean off the toilet and flush! That shit you left for me was nasty.” “I’m sorry, Jake. I was in a rush and I guess I–“ “I’m not mad bro, but just like... be a fuckin adult, right?” He walked over and handed me the diaper of shame. “What do you want me to do with this?” As if I didn’t know. He laughed incredulously. “Go throw it out, dude. There’s some trash bags on the table.” I stood dumbfounded for a second, but knew he was right. Slapping my cup back on the kitchen counter, I walked over to the table and pulled out a bag. “And, uh,” Jake paused for a second as I shook open the trash bag and my old diaper plop down into it with a thud. “You might wanna grab some new pants there, huh buddy?” I could feel my cheeks turn crimson as I stepped out into the front yard and over to the garbage bins at the end of the driveway, doing my best to cover the front of my pants with the bagged up diaper. I don’t really like to talk about it, but these kinds of accidents had been happening more and more frequently ever since I started my freshman year. Even though I’d always had issues day and night, I had gotten through my Senior year at Oak Park Academy without any full blown accidents during the day, and I was only wetting the bed, like, three or so nights a week, which was a huge victory for me. I even stopped packing an extra pairs of shorts in my backpack for a good five months! However, college hit me hard I guess, and just seemed to screw everything up. After only a week into my first semester, I began waking up each morning to that familiar damp, musty feeling of a saturated diaper more and more often. Before I knew it, a month had gone by with no dry nights, and then a semester, and then a whole school year. I couldn’t even make it through naps without releasing a flood that rivaled Noah’s after a while! I really hoped that removing myself from the stress of school and returning home over the summer would reset my body, but it kept happening. Every. Friggin'. Night. Thankfully, this has been so regular my whole life that my parents and brother didn’t make any issue of it when I kept throwing out clearly soaked diapers every morning and after every lazy mid-day nap. God, I never thought I would use the word “thankful” and “diaper” in the same sentence, ever... but it was nice that they didn’t raise any fuss about it. What’s really been ticking me off, though, is that at some point during my very first semester at the University, I began finding my underwear various degrees of damp every time I hit the bathroom between classes. That’s nothing particularly new for me, but this was another level. It never made it’s way past my boxer briefs and into my pants (or at least I’ve been very good at convincing myself that it hadn’t), but it was enough that I spent more days than I care to admit with a wad of toilet paper stuffed up under my penis. I knew that was gross and kind of a roundabout solution, but I don’t know... it mostly worked, and was waaaaay better than having to pad up during the day and essentially admit my old, childish problem was coming back. Today was a different story, though. This was the first time in well over two years that I had an actual stain on my pants, and I wasn’t asleep, or sick, or drunk. I didn’t even know if it had all happened at once or just gradually. It was a total surprise. I tossed the bag into our garbage bin, and silently thanked God there was no one out in the street that afternoon. Walking back into the house, I saw Jake loading dishes into our kitchen cabinets. “Hey, I went ahead and put your suitcase in your room. Come help me when you’re done changing.” He was so nonchalant about everything, which I guess was chill, but it still made me want to sink down into the floorboards and disappear forever. I walked into my room, and this time remembered to shut and lock the door. I emptied my pockets and stripped my pants and boxer briefs off, standing there for a second staring at them. How could this have happened? The pants were fine, but these boxer briefs... dang. There was no hiding I had fully released my bladder at some point during the hard labor of the day. And I hadn’t even noticed. I threw my clothes down and sat on my unmade mattress, a bag with my plastic sheet and other bedding propped up next to me at the head of the bed. I grabbed my phone and saw I had a message. “Zaaaaaaaaaaach you moved in today, right? When’s the house warming party????” Seeing a text from Mason was just about the only thing that could have made me smile right then. We met in the same English Lit class and realized that we lived on the same floor in the same dorm. We hung out pretty much every day freshman year, studying for tests together, or grabbing lunch at the mess hall, or playing Mario Kart with his roommate and such. As far as I knew, he had no idea about any of my issues, which I was really thankful about. Of course, that didn’t mean that I wasn’t constantly stressed about trying to frantically keep it hidden, especially with the many surprise late night visits he made to my single room. Also, and I think this is what really made us get close, we were both gay. I’d pretty much always been in the closet. It’s not like my family would care or shun me or anything–I’m lucky that they’re pretty cool about that sort of thing–but I don’t know. I just never really felt comfortable accepting that part of myself and opening up to other people. One day, though, while sitting on his dorm room floor amongst what was probably three weeks worth of old laundry, he came out to me. His family knew, as I understood, as well as some of his high school friends, but I guess they were all just... weird about it. A sort of don’t ask, don’t tell situation. I had to build myself up a bit inside after he told me, but I knew I had to open up to him too. I couldn’t have asked for a better first coming out experience. We hugged and laughed and I kicked his butt at a few rounds of Super Smash Bros well into the rest of the night. And yes, I definitely, you know, liked him, and thought about him more than a normal person probably should, but I never dared make a move. We were solid friends, and there was no use messing with that. Right? Figuring I couldn't sit there pants-less in my room forever, I swiped the text open and responded, “Soon man, still gotta unpack and get settled in. I’ll hit you up later.” Throwing my phone on the mattress, I walked over to my suitcase. Most of my clothes were stuffed in a box out in the living room, but thinking ahead, my brother and I both made sure to load up a suitcase with some extra outfits and amenities in case we didn’t feel like doing ALL the unpacking today. I unzipped the bag, and even though I knew what to expect, I was still slightly disheartened to see not only my rolled up shirts and pants, but a hefty stack of diapers and wipes, almost laughing at me. I disregarded them and grabbed another pair of briefs and some khakis, then went back out to join my brother, who was now unloading books and video games onto a small shelf in the living room. “What took so long?” He asked, not even looking up from the box. “You didn’t do more to than just pee in those jeans, did you?” “What?” I immediately heated up, stunned that he would even think that. “Little Zachy didn’t make a little poopy in his pants, did he?” He was just enjoying this so much. “Shut up! What, are you nine years old?” He used to rib me a lot for still needing diapers growing up, but this was the first time he’s done it since we were both in college. “I don’t know bro, you’ve done it before, so I just wanted to make sure.” “Okay, well, for one thing, it’s none of your business. And I haven’t done that since, like, 7th grade, so... screw you.” “Dude, you know I’m joking. Come grab some books.” The rest of the day came and passed. We got pretty much the whole living room and kitchen unpacked, plus all our toiletries and towels and stuff put away in the bathroom. At around 7 we decided to call it a day, and Jake heated up this frozen pasta dish for both of us. Finally at the end of the night, I retreated back to my room and grabbed my laptop, dozing off quickly watching mindless youtube videos. Despite my nap earlier in the car, I was feeling super sleepy and decided to hit the hay. I slipped off my bottoms, proudly taking note that it was all still dry, and taped on a diaper from my suitcase. Within literal seconds, I was knocked out cold on my still unmade bed.