Twenty-three year old Grant Hansen placed the printed form, which he had just laboriously filled in, on the table and looked up at the older man behind the desk at the employment agency. The name badge pinned to the professional’s shirt read “Paul Crowther”.
Grant briefly outlined his situation with the practised ease of having already done this at another venue earlier that morning. “I’m basically looking for something to fill the time and earn some money during my summer student vacation until mid September when I go back to college. I don’t mind too much what it involves. I’d be happy with catering work, office work, anything really which pays, say, six or seven pounds an hour. As long as the working hours are not too…”
As Grant was speaking he was aware that Paul was looking at him with more interest than he had received at the previous agency which he had visited that morning where he had been given the discouraging news that there was no casual summer work available and that he would be unlikely to find anything anywhere else either. And before Grant had even finished speaking, Paul was signalling to a female colleague sitting nearby who looked hard at Grant, seemingly sizing him up, then nodded to Paul in approval.
Grant’s voice trailed off as he noticed the exchange and he looked enquiringly up as he registered the two staff members scrutinizing him.
“Are you available for a few hours immediately?” asked Paul.
“A few hours?” repeated Grant. “I was hoping for a few weeks…”
“Three hundred pounds, straight into your bank account, for a few hours’ work?” interrupted the job agency worker.
Grant was speechless. Three hundred pounds was as much as he had hoped to earn in his entire eight week summer vacation. His face lit up and he nodded.
“Do you have any acting experience, you know, theatre, cabaret, or even a school play or something?” was the next question. As Grant’s face fell and he shook his head, the guy grinned at him and continued. “Well it doesn’t actually matter. The company is looking urgently for some young men to act as extras in a TV advert for a mortgage lender. Filming is this afternoon. All they are insisting on is, one, a professional attitude and two, I quote, ‘hunky masculine looks and image’.” Paul picked up the receiver of the telephone on his desk. “Do you want to spend this afternoon working on a film set, gaining experience in acting and television, and earning three hundred while you’re about it?”
With Grant’s emphatic approval, Paul tapped in a number on the telephone on his desk, pulled Grant’s application form round to his side of the desk and scanned Grant’s hand written details as the call was answered, speaking into the phone as he did so. “Hi Martin, this is Paul Crowther from ‘Professionals on Demand’ again. … Yeah, hi. … Yes, that’s right, the Hayes brothers are here all ready and waiting for their lift to your studio. But Martin, I understand you’re still looking for a third hunky masculine guy as well as Peter and Daniel Hayes to complete the quota? … Good, well we have just the lad for you here now, all keen and ready for an afternoon’s acting.”
At this point Paul made eye contact with Grant who nodded his head enthusiastically as he continued to listen to one half of the conversation. Grant could hardly believe his good fortune.
Paul was still speaking as he glanced back down at the filled in form. “He’s called Grant Hansen, he’s twenty-three years old, a student on his summer vacation, and he meets your requirements in the looks department admirably.” Paul glanced back up at Grant and winked as he paused while the television studio recruiter replied. “No, no acting experience as such, but a serious interest in gaining that experience and a highly professional attitude.” Again Paul glanced up at Grant who nodded enthusiastically. “… Fine, all three lads are ready and waiting then. Grant can tag along with the other two, I hope? … Okay, thanks Martin. Bye.”
Paul rang off, got straight up from his seat, and indicated to Grant that he should come with him. “Okay, if you’d like to step this way,” he said to Grant, gesturing towards the private staff area. “You’re getting a lift to the Chalcombe Wood television studios with two other lads, Peter and Dan,” explained Paul as Grant joined him and followed him along a corridor in the back of the employment agency building. “You’ll be involved in one short scene for a TV advert. The filming is on set this afternoon. Everything you need will be provided, like clothing and so on. I think you’re all in suits for this filming. Then they bring you back here afterwards. You’ll be paid three hundred straight into your bank account within a week, and if we receive a good report about you from the studios we may be able to use you again on other occasions since we have a permanent relationship with Chalcombe Wood and frequently supply them with budding professionals like yourself.”
As Paul was speaking he was opening a door to a room to one side and poking his head in. “Hi again, you two,” he said to the occupants of the room. “Sorry for the delay, the car should be along to collect you shortly. Martin’s just told me your driver’s on his way. Now, this is Grant who will be appearing with you in your scene this afternoon.” Paul turned back to Grant and gestured that he should go in. “Grant, meet two of your fellow actors for this afternoon, Pete and Danny.”
Grant smiled at the two lads who had slightly similar appearances, both with spiky styling of their blond hair, and both with slim torsos. They were also wearing identical green and white striped rugby shirts. The lad who had been introduced as Pete, who seemed slightly the older of the two and was probably about Grant’s own age or a little older, had combined the rugby shirt with a pair of light blue jeans similar to Grant’s own jeans, whereas the younger lad, Danny, who looked about twenty, was wearing a pair of dark blue tracksuit bottoms. Both lads said “Hi” simultaneously to Grant as they looked at him.
Pete was still seated with a plastic cup of coffee in his hand, but Danny had stood up the moment Paul and Grant had arrived and seemed about to say something to Paul as he turned back away from Grant after the greetings. Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Pete, however. “Sit down, Danny!” he said sharply.
“You both alright?” asked Paul. “Been helping yourselves to coffee?”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” answered Pete smoothly for the two of them as Danny sat back down in his chair resignedly.
“Good,” responded Paul, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the apparent disagreement between the brothers and the younger one’s evident unease about something. “You two help Grant get a coffee then, would you? I need to get back to work. You won’t have long to wait now. Best of luck for this afternoon. I know you’ll all do well!” And with a parting smile at the brothers and Grant, Paul made his exit.
“I guess I can manage the coffee machine myself,” said Grant as he selected a black coffee and waited while it was dispensed. “Do you two both want another too?” he offered, looking back at the pair in their identical rugby shirts.
Danny looked down at this question, avoiding Grant’s eye, as if this subject had already been discussed with possibly some disagreement between the two of them already. Pete answered for them both. “No thanks, we’ve just come from the pub anyway. We decided to celebrate getting this assignment together. So a couple of beers each and one cup of coffee is quite enough for now.”
“You’ve both done this before?” continued Grant as he collected his cup of coffee, pulled a chair over and joined them.
“Yep,” nodded Danny.
“Yeah, a few times for television,” confirmed Pete. “We both did a filming at a football ground for an episode of The Bill a few months ago. We were just faces in a crowd there really. I’ve done one or two small roles in theatre too. But Danny’s actually appeared in a scene in Emmerdale even though he’s not a professional actor like I’m trying to be. It was just as a patron in the pub, but you were right in the shot, weren’t you Danny?” Pete wrapped his arm protectively round the younger lad’s shoulders, partly out of genuine pride for his brother’s achievement but also clearly anxious to cancel out whatever note of discord had been struck between the two of them prior to Grant’s arrival. “This assignment could be the best yet: if I understand it right, we’re all featuring in an ad for banks or mortgages or something,” he continued vaguely, squeezing the other lad’s shoulders affectionately.
“You’re brothers, right?” asked Grant, regarding the pair of them inquisitively as they sat there side by side in their identical rugby shirts, Danny responding to Pete’s hug with an equally affectionate knocking of his tracksuit-clad leg against Pete’s light blue jeans. Grant almost found himself envying their closeness.
“That obvious, is it?” said Danny.
“You’ve got it,” confirmed Pete. “Some people think we’re twins, but I’m twenty-five and Danny’s twenty-one. I have to keep an eye on him now and then, keep him in line,” he joked, with a wink at his brother. Then he added: “Have you got any brothers and sisters, Grant?”
“Yes, I’ve got a younger brother too,” replied Grant.
“Hah, then you know what it’s like!” exclaimed Pete. “Don’t you have to keep him under control too?”
“Well, I’m sure Grant lets him go for a piss when he wants to,” interjected Danny with a mock-sour look at his older brother.
“I don’t see him that much these days,” replied Grant. “We’re at different universities.”
Pete, however, was not apparently listening to this. He had turned towards Danny in exasperation at the latter’s strange comment. Then he turned back to Grant. “Alright, you sort this out then Grant. Danny and I can’t agree. Who are the toilets for in this building?”
The question was clearly meant seriously, and both Pete and Danny were staring at Grant in anticipation of his reply. Grant looked slightly bemused, then offered: “For the job agency staff, I guess, since they’re at work here all day. The rest of us have to go before we leave home.”
Danny scowled and looked down. Pete reacted triumphantly. “THANKYOU!” he replied to Grant emphatically. “Or …” he added, glancing pointedly at his brother, “before we leave the pub!”
“I DID go in the pub,” whined Danny, “but now I wanna go again!”
“Then you shouldn’t have had the second beer, should you? Or you should have stayed off the coffee here!”
“I didn’t know they were gonna keep us waiting here half an hour, did I? I thought they’d take us straight there! I really need a piss, Pete,” Danny added in a plaintive tone.
Grant offered some conciliatory words. “Well, Paul says our lift is going to be along shortly. It’s not a long journey, is it?”
“No, half hour at the most,” replied Pete. “And you can piss all you want there,” he added to his brother. “For now you’ll have to hold it!”
“Oh, like you did at Alton Towers you mean?” asked Danny in a sarcastic tone.
Pete reacted as if stung by a wasp. “That was different!”
“Different?” Danny turned back to Grant. “He pissed his pants in the roller coaster at Alton Towers last year. And now he has the cheek to tell me I’ve got to wait!”
Pete had flushed slightly red in the face. “That was because it was a bloody scary ride. Loads of people lose control in the roller coaster when it throws you around. That’s why the carriages have gaps in the floor to let it flow out.”
“Yeah, well you still looked a right prune walking around Alton Towers in pissed jeans for the rest of the day,” recalled his younger brother. “I had to pretend I didn’t know you!”
Grant decided that a similar account of his own was in order since both brothers now seemed embarrassed and irritated. “Something similar happened to my student housemate at college a few months ago,” he volunteered. “During his first driving lesson.”
Both Pete and Danny looked up with interest, evidently glad of a diversion from the dual subject of Pete’s embarrassing accident at Alton Towers and Danny’s current toilet need. “Oh yeah? Your housemate wet himself in his driving lesson?” asked Pete.
But Grant had no time to continue with the details because Paul appeared at the door. “Gentlemen, your carriage awaits,” he announced.
The three lads rose from their seats.
Paul continued. “As arranged, you’re all being taken to the studios and you’ll be brought back here when you’ve finished, or if any of you want to be taken straight home I’m sure they’ll arrange that if you ask nicely. Chalcombe Wood has been given your details by fax, Grant, and the ones for you two guys are on their files already. You will be paid by ‘Professionals on Demand’ directly into your bank accounts. Do you have any questions?”
Danny had suddenly pushed past Paul in the door opening as he was talking and was glancing up and down the corridor, looking anxiously at the rooms to either side. One of his hands was fiddling with the bulge in his tracksuit bottoms. Clearly not seeing what he was looking for in the corridor, he turned back to Paul. “Um…” he began.
But Pete was already intervening, hastening out into the corridor as his brother had also just done and blocking Paul’s view of the errant Danny. “No, we know the drill by now. Thanks Paul, the driver’s in the street outside, I guess? We’ll dazzle everyone with our brilliant acting this afternoon. See you next time.”
Grant added his thanks to Paul and hurried along behind his new friends. They were having another slight altercation, he observed, with Pete hissing “NO! You can’t go here. Hold it till we get there,” but they were nonetheless both moving briskly back out into the public area of the agency. Grant followed them on out into the street where a man in a three-piece suit with a formal looking attitude was standing and waiting beside an expensive looking Mercedes. He opened the front and back passenger doors as the three lads approached.
Pete turned back to Grant. “We don’t get a limousine like Brad Pitt probably does, but we still travel in some style as you can see!” he remarked. Then he addressed the man in the suit. “Hi Maurice, nice to see you again.”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” replied the man gravely. “Three of you today, is that correct?”
“Yeah, and I’m going in the front this time,” replied Pete as he jumped boisterously into the front passenger seat. “You sit behind me, little bro, and behave yourself!” he added to Danny who climbed obediently into the back seat.
The chauffeur moved round to the other side of the vehicle and courteously opened the door for Grant. “Nice to meet you, sir,” he said as Grant entered the vehicle, sat down and fastened the seatbelt. “And the very best of luck with your performance this afternoon.”
“You keep an eye on my brother, won’t you, Grant?” said Pete, glancing round at Grant as he took his seat next to Danny. “He nearly did what I told him not to do back there. I just stopped him asking to use the staff toilets. He needs to learn some manners!” He accompanied this statement by craning round in his seat to look at Danny with a supportive wink, but Danny glared back at his older brother.
“Sod you! If I can’t wait and leak all over the seat it’ll be your fault,” was Danny’s muttered reply.
“Just a short journey, Danny,” murmured Grant who was feeling slightly embarrassed about the situation as he noticed Danny squeezing his dick in several quick clenching and unclenching motions of his right hand through the soft fabric of his trackies.
“Yeah, I told him that,” agreed Pete. “I also told him I’m gagging for a piss as well, but if I can hold it then so can he.”
The chauffeur had by now closed the car doors and taken his seat behind the wheel. Within a moment they were on their way. Danny turned slightly towards Grant in his seat despite the confines of his seatbelt, one leg up on the seat with his knee against the seat back, his hands in his lap, as he tried to get comfortable for the journey. “What was this about your housemate then, Grant?” he asked, diverting the general attention away from his own increasingly urgent need.
“Yeah, tell us about your housemate’s driving lesson. He wet his pants, right?” added Pete, glancing back to look at Grant.
Grant began his account under the rapt attention of the brothers. “Yeah, Richard peed his pants during his first driving lesson,” he began. “The first I knew of it was when me and my other housemate, Phil, saw him coming home afterwards in the driving school car. Phil spots him at the window and shouts ‘Hey, Richard’s jeans are all soaking wet!’ And when we let him in Richard’s all pissy wet and we have to help him shower and change. He was really embarrassed about it too. We had to peel off his soaking undies for him in the bathroom! The thing was, when I got up that morning, Richard had finished up the whole carton of orange juice and there was none left. Then he had more cups of coffee after that just before his driving instructor arrived. Stands to reason he got caught short!”
Danny groaned and pushed his hands harder into his lap as he listened. “Why did I drink all that beer?” he muttered under his breath.
“Did Richard tell you what happened at the moment he wet himself?” Pete wanted to know.
“No, he was too embarrassed,” replied Grant. “But I mentioned it to his instructor before one of Richard’s lessons later on when the instructor was waiting for Richard to get ready, and he said he’d noticed Richard getting less and less able to sit still during that lesson, figured out what his problem must be, but decided he should let Richard tell him himself. But Richard didn’t mention it until finally, when the lesson was nearly finished, he suddenly said he was bursting for a piss and had to get out of the car. Then he stopped at the side of the road but wet himself before he could get out.”
“Wow, poor guy,” said Pete. “I can see how that could have happened.”
Danny groaned again, turned back away from Grant, and sat forward in his seat.
Pete continued: “Danny told me something along the same lines too from his own college experience.” He looked behind him at his brother who was scissoring his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of the back seat, the seatbelt fully extended, his eyes on the road ahead. “You alright there, little bro?” Pete asked affectionately.
“You know I’m not!” snarled Danny.
“Tell Grant what you told me about your friend Steve,” prompted Pete.
“No, I can’t think about that any more!” replied Danny. “How much longer is this journey gonna take, anyway?”
The chauffeur, who up until now had played no part in the conversation, supplied Danny’s answer. “We’ll be arriving in about twenty minutes, sir,” he informed Danny. “I understand that there is lunch laid on for you all for when you arrive,” he added.
Danny sighed, pulled his green and white rugby shirt anxiously down over his trackies, buried his fists further into his groin and rested his head against the back of Pete’s seat, effectively blocking out the conversation of the others around him as he struggled with his own difficulty.
Now that Danny had shut himself out of the conversation, Pete started up a chat with Grant, asking about his studying and then later supplying the information that Danny was also a student, studying Chemistry, whereas Pete himself was trying to set himself up as a serious actor. “Danny stays with me during his student vacations and sometimes gets these minor acting roles with me now that we’re both registered with ‘Professionals on Demand’. But I miss him terribly when he has to go back to university, don’t I little bro?”
Pete looked back at his brother for confirmation of this touching brotherly affection between them. Danny grunted in acknowledgement. By this time he had sat back in his seat, no longer leaning forward on Pete’s front seat, but he was still taking little interest in the conversation. As Grant glanced over at him he noticed that Danny’s tracksuit bottoms were visibly tented with a slight erection, and the previously pronounced scissoring motion of his legs was now reduced to a more subtle motion, his legs wide apart and splayed over the seat. However, the expression on Danny’s face was one of concern, even anxiety, and Grant was privately surprised that Pete’s brotherly love did not seem to extend to any particular concern about the fact that his younger brother was obviously desperate to relieve himself.
As the Mercedes sped smoothly onwards through the towns and villages, Pete chatted on to Grant about the minor acting roles which the agency had so far supplied to him and Danny and what he thought the current one might involve. Grant’s observation that his own lack of acting experience had not seemed to be any obstacle to his being hired for the role confirmed Pete’s impression that today they would be there merely to “look pretty”, but he added: “Still, it’s all good experience, we should be getting our faces on the box, and if you want to head for a career as an actor, Grant, this is the way to start.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Danny who leaned forward to speak to either Pete or the driver. “We ARE almost there now, aren’t we?” Grant moved his gaze from Pete to Danny and saw that the younger lad was now seated right forward in his seat once again, his legs knocking back and forth. Judging by the clenching and unclenching action of Danny’s hand in his lap, the lad had probably now lost his hard-on too.
“Yes, sir, we will be arriving in five or ten minutes. Are you alright, sir?” The driver’s voice was as formal and professional as ever.
“He’s fine,” replied Pete on Danny’s behalf.
“No I’m not!” was Danny’s immediate reposte. “I need a leak now!”
“Look, Danny, it’s not just you, you know,” said Pete turning round in his seat. “I’m almost busting myself sitting here too. I had just as much beer and coffee as you did. Just stop thinking about it and we’ll let it flow as soon as we arrive in a few minutes.” Pete accompanied this exhortation with a glance at his brother which managed to come across as both sympathetic and very stern at the same time, turned back in his seat, squeezed the crotch of his jeans momentarily and crossed his legs.
“When we arrive I’ll drive straight through to the side of the building where there is a gentlemen’s washroom,” volunteered the driver who was evidently fully aware of the overfull bladders of at least two of his passengers but was hardly batting an eyelid about it.
Danny made a small whimpering noise and continued to squirm about on the seat. Pete fumbled in his groin again. No-one answered the driver’s helpful remark, and during the next two minutes there was a silence in the car, the soft back seat absorbing Danny’s vigourous leg-knocking motions without any creaking or squeaking, as the Mercedes slowed down to enter a small town.
Pete broke the silence. “The studios are just the other side of this place, aren’t they?”
“Yes, sir, just through this town,” confirmed the driver.
Pete looked back at his brother. “Almost there, Dan. Hang on and we’ll run for the toilets together. Crikey, I don’t know when I’ve needed to go this much before!” He grinned at Danny whose reply was unexpectedly robust and driven by complete panic.
“I can’t hold it! Stop, I can’t wait any longer!”
Pete and Grant gaped at him but the chauffeur was as calm and on the ball as ever. “There are some public conveniences to the right, sir, if I go slightly out of our way…”
“No, stop here at the side of the road or I’ll wet my pants!” Danny interrupted him. One of his hands was already pulling slightly at the catch of the door, while the other was buried deep in his groin.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the chauffeur brought the Mercedes to a stop at the side of the busy street. Various pedestrians were on the pavement next to them and were glancing over as Danny opened the door ready to leap out before the car had even come to a standstill.
In his urgency Danny had forgotten about his seatbelt which yanked him back as he attempted to exit the vehicle. Frantically he wheeled round again and attempted to disengage the belt, but it was Grant who hastily reached over and pressed the red button releasing Danny from his confines. He was out of the car in an instant, taking account of the various passers-by only insofar as he turned back towards the car with its still open door before yanking down his dark blue trackies and his underpants in one desperate movement. In full view of the other three occupants of the car he extracted his already pissing dick and directed it downwards so that the thick stream of crystal clear pee was now cascading noisily into the gutter.
Pete stared at his brother and the waterfall of colourless urine which Danny was letting loose. Then, with a soft but clearly audible moan, Pete squeezed his crotch tightly, and then he undid his seatbelt and jumped out of the car to join Danny. The fly of his jeans was open in an instant, and barely two seconds later the other two occupants of the car and various members of the public were witnessing both brothers standing side by side, forcefully pissing into the road.
After a while Grant turned to look at the chauffeur who had switched off the engine and was sitting patiently in his seat, waiting for his passengers to finish their business. “I’m awfully sorry about this,” said Grant. “I think they’ve been in the pub.”
The driver’s response was as courteous and unruffled as ever. “That’s quite alright, sir. There is no need to apologise. I have seen this many times before.”
“Really?” replied Grant in astonishment. The two streams of piss were continuing noisily and unabated from outside the vehicle.
“Oh yes, sir,” replied the older man. “I transport many actors like yourself. I won’t name any names, sir, but I have even had to have the car steam cleaned once after a certain young celebrity actor couldn’t hold his water during a journey. Your young friends did at least ask me to stop before it was too late, sir. Um…” There was a pause as the chauffeur then threw an expert, if surreptitious, eye over Danny as he stood there, still emptying his bladder alongside his older brother. “…On closer inspection I’m not sure if the younger gentleman did in fact make it completely in time. I’m going to put some protection down as discreetly as I can. I hope he will not object…”
With this surprising statement the driver then took out an immaculately folded copy of the day’s “Times” newspaper from a compartment in the front and reached behind to place it on Danny’s seat, opening the newspaper out slightly so that it was spread out over a significant area of the plush Mercedes seat. “Sometimes a newspaper can be useful even when clients are not of a mind to read any daily news,” he remarked gravely.
Reaching into a glove compartment, the driver then extracted a small box of expensive pink scented tissues. “These can also be useful sometimes,” he added conversationally. “I will see if the young gentlemen require them when they have finished their business outside.”
The “business outside” was by now showing some signs of completion. Pete, his eyes closed in ecstatic relief, was stuffing his dick back inside his underwear and jeans. Then he glanced down at Danny and observed that he had also finished peeing but was still standing with his tracksuit bottoms around his thighs and his dick hanging limply out over the top of his briefs. “Tch! Make yourself decent, Danny!” he exclaimed, and then, when Danny failed to respond immediately, he hastily grabbed his younger brother’s errant clothing and pulled it deftly upwards into place.
As soon as Pete did this, feeling his brother’s underwear, he uttered a second exclamation of exasperation. “Aagh! Oh Danny, you’re wet! Quick, get back in the car!” He pulled the back door wider open and pushed his brother in the back. As Danny started to climb in, Pete added: “Move over to the middle next to Grant. I’m getting in here with you!”
Danny meekly obeyed and Grant co-operated by pulling the newspaper further towards him so that Danny sat down on it in the middle of the back seat. Pete climbed in behind him, slammed the door shut and then, to Grant’s astonishment, pulled the waistband of his brother’s tracksuit bottoms out with one hand and inserted his other hand to feel inside. “Oh Danny, your undies are sopping wet!” he moaned. “I thought you’d got out of the car in time. What happened, little bro?”
“I couldn’t hold it. It just started squirting out before I could get out,” moaned Danny. He was still meekly submitting to his brother’s intimate attentions which were by now amounting to a detailed feel of the state of Danny’s pants. If he objected at all, he was apparently too humiliated to resist.
Grant was aware that the chauffeur was proferring the box of tissues. Grant took the box from him, nodded his thanks and passed it across to Pete who pulled out a handful of them and started stuffing them down inside Danny’s underwear. The driver, relieved of the tissues and satisfied that the youngest passenger was now being adequately helped to deal with his wet pants, then shut the front passenger door, started the engine and continued with the final couple of miles of the journey.
“Oh no, it’s down his legs too,” groaned Pete, pointing at his brother’s thighs where the dark blue of the tracksuit bottoms was stained even darker. “Give us a hand, Grant, will you? If we can get his trackies dried quickly he may be okay.”
Grant took a couple more pink tissues from the box and gingerly wiped at the tops of Danny’s thighs. Despite his care, however, Grant still felt his wrist make fleeting contact with the soft protruberance at the front of the younger brother’s damp tracksuit bottoms. And at this point Danny suddenly asserted himself.
“Oh right, just feel me up, both of you, why don’t you!?” he snapped angrily.
Grant snatched his hand back hastily. Pete, too, extracted his hand from the damp environment of his brother’s private regions where he had been placing tissues. “Take it easy, little bro,” he murmured soothingly. “We’re just trying to help you. Here,” he added, handing Danny the box of tissues, “you carry on getting yourself cleaned up. And as soon as we arrive we’ll get you sorted out properly. Don’t you worry about anything, little Danny.” He accompanied his words with a tender ruffle of his brother’s hair using his dry hand.
A short silence was then filled by the chauffeur in his usual diplomatic tone of voice. “If it would be agreeable to you gentlemen, I will take you straight round the studio building to the West wing where a gentlemen’s washroom is located. It is very discreet there, generally only used by actors such as yourselves, and even then not by the top celebrity actors who are provided with their own private facilities. And I understand that your production is the only one being filmed this afternoon.”
“Yes, thanks Maurice, that would be very helpful,” replied Pete.
“Very good, sir,” responded the driver. Already the Mercedes was gliding into the front drive of the television studios. A barrier was lifted immediately by the operator in a booth next to it as soon as he saw their official car approaching, and the sleek vehicle with its four occupants was able to drive straight in without even pausing. “And I shall report your arrival to the Production Manager of your filming slot, gentlemen. You will be able to go directly to the actors’ restaurant in the same wing to refresh yourselves as you desire and at your own convenience when you are all appropriately cleaned and rested.” The Mercedes rounded the final corner and slowed down ready to stop next to a small door on the end of a block. Maurice continued smoothly with his parting spiel: “May I take this opportunity to thank you all for your excellent company on this journey, and also to wish you the very best of luck for your production this afternoon.”
The instant he had finished uttering these words the driver stepped smoothly out, opened the rear door, and let his passengers out. The three lads walked, or in Danny’s case waddled uncomfortably, into the building and made straight for a small door with a little man depicted on it, filing straight inside one behind another.
Despite Maurice’s description of these particular facilities, the men’s washroom was not completely deserted. A lad of about Grant’s age was standing at one of the urinals and just finishing up. Stuffing his dick inside the black jeans which he was wearing, he turned to look at the newcomers and instantly recognised Pete and Danny who, unlike Grant who had immediately walked up to a free urinal to deal with a definite need which had built up during the journey, were hanging back by the door as they took in the surroundings.
“Hey, Pete! Hi, Danny! Glad you’ve both made it alright. Long time no see, eh?” The lad grinned at the brothers as he rinsed his hands at a washbasin.
Pete smiled in surprised recognition. “Hey, Lance! What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re also doing this banking advert?” Danny was standing sheepishly behind his brother, mostly out of sight of Lance, but Pete filled in by returning Lance’s friendliness.
“Mortgage lender advert, yes,” corrected Lance. “And I was already told you two would be coming. And they were also hoping to get a fourth lad from your agency… um, I guess that’s you?” Lance turned towards Grant who was now gratefully relieving himself.
Pete answered for Grant. “Yes, he’s working with us too. Lance, meet Grant. Grant, this is Lance who’s worked with me and Danny before.”
Grant smiled across at Lance. “Hi, Lance, excuse me if I don’t shake hands just for a moment.”
Lance laughed. “No worries, Grant, I can see you’re busy there,” he replied. Then he craned his head round Pete to where Danny was standing. “Hey there, Danny, you alright? Nice to see you again. Are you on your student vacation again now?”
Danny’s reply was surprisingly curt and sullen in the face of the general friendliness around him. “Yeah, excuse me a minute,” he said, emerging from behind Pete and plunging straight into a cubicle under Lance’s surprised gaze.
“Yeah, ‘scuse us, Lance,” added Pete. “See you in a bit.” And before Danny had had a chance to lock the cubicle door behind him, his brother had nipped in after him. The door was then bolted leaving a distinctly taken aback Lance with only the still peeing Grant for company.
There was a short silence. Then Lance turned to Grant whose pee stream was only just beginning to dwindle and sidled over to him. “Um…” he began, his voice low so that the two occupants of the cubicle would not be able to hear, “Danny’s pants look wet to me. Has he had an accident?”
Grant looked at him and nodded. “Just a bit,” he replied. There was another silence as he finished his pee, stuffed himself back inside his light blue jeans and zipped up. Then he turned towards Lance with some more whispered information. “He got caught short in the car on the way here. Then he couldn’t get out in time when the driver stopped at the side of the road.”
Lance frowned and followed Grant over to the sink. “Awww, poor Danny,” he remarked in a low voice. “Couldn’t he get the driver to stop before it was too late?”
“The driver acted impeccably,” replied Grant quietly over the noise of the tap as he rinsed his hands. “He stopped as soon as Danny said he was about to wet his pants. It was Pete who wasn’t allowing Danny to ask to go to the toilet earlier on.” As Lance looked astonished, Grant attempted to provide some more explanation. “They both had beers in the pub before their appointment at the agency. Then they were kept waiting there for a long time, and Danny needed the toilet, but Pete told him the toilets were for staff only. And I reckon Danny just waited too long before saying he really had to go when we were all in the car.”
Lance nodded. “That figures,” he said. He glanced wonderingly towards the cubicle door behind which the sound could be heard of low voices between the two brothers plus occasional noises of toilet paper being pulled from the roll. “Those two are absolutely amazing,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” continued Lance, “Pete’s really dominant. Has his little brother completely under control all the time. But Danny’s absolutely devoted to him. You know," he continued conspiratorially to Grant, “when I saw them the first time, I thought they were a gay couple. And of the sort when they’ve only just met, you know, and they’re all gooey-eyed about each other. All touchy-feely and in love. But then I found out that they’re brothers and just really, really close.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve noticed too,” confirmed Grant. “Do you know,” he continued, warming to Lance and keen to continue sharing their experiences of the extraordinary phenomenon of the Hayes brothers, “after Danny accidently wet himself, Pete was trying to help him get cleaned up by putting his hand down Danny’s pants and wiping him in there with tissues. You can’t get more caring than that for your brother, I guess.”
Lance whistled softly and the two of them listened for a while to the goings-on behind the cubicle door. The muttered conversation between Pete and Danny was suddenly becoming more heated and audible to the other two outside.
“Oh sod it, it’s no good, I’ll have to go home!”
“You can’t go home, we’re at work here. Just take it easy, little bro, it’ll dry in time.” This was Pete’s voice, his tone soothing. “We’re filming in other clothes anyway.”
“That’s easy for you to say! How am I supposed to go and have lunch now like this!?”
“Just be patient, Danny, give it time and the paper will soak it all up.”
“This is all your fault! If you’d let me ask Paul if I could use his toilet this wouldn’t have happened!” Danny’s voice was cracking as if he was almost in tears. “Do you realise how terrible I was feeling in that car? I almost died! You don’t know how bad I had to go!”
“Hey, hey, I know, easy now.”
“Then you and Grant start taking advantage of me and feeling my prick. Just because I’ve wet myself…!” Danny’s angry voice trailed off and was replaced by sobs as he broke down.
Pete’s soothing voice could be heard above his brother’s crying. “Hey, hey, hey…” Danny had broken down completely and his uncontrollable sobbing was clearly audible to the lads outside.
Lance looked at Grant again, this time with a quizzical expression as if to ask for an explanation from Grant about Danny’s latest statement. Grant flushed. “I was just trying to help clean him up,” he muttered defensively. “Pete actually asked me to. I wasn’t feeling Danny, I just accidently touched the bulge in his trackies and he got all upset about it.”
Lance nodded, and then he appeared to make a sudden practical decision. He walked up to the cubicle door and knocked on it. Danny’s loud sobbing ceased as he evidently remembered that he and his brother were not alone. “Um, guys?” called out Lance. “Do you know there’s a hand-dryer out here? It might be more effective than toilet roll, you know.”
The lock on the door of the cubicle was turned and Pete appeared. “That’s a good idea, Lance,” he said. “Let’s try it. Come on, Danny, let’s get you dried out here.” Pete pulled a very unwilling Danny out of the cubicle by his arm. “Come on, it’s okay,” he added encouragingly to his distraught brother.
“Yeah, come on Danny,” agreed Lance. “Just stand under the dryer and let the warm air circulate round where it’s wet.”
Grant joined in too, and Danny found himself being ushered to the dryer by all three lads. Grant started the dryer up, Lance gently guided Danny so that he was standing in front of it, and Pete pulled the waistband of Danny’s tracksuit bottoms out so that the warm air was blowing down inside.
If his brother and colleagues expected gratitude they were disappointed. “When you’ve all quite finished fussing around me,” whined Danny through his tears, “perhaps you could all just bugger off and leave me alone for a change!”
Pete opened his mouth to reply, but Lance took control decisively. “Sure, you join us in the canteen when you’re ready, Dan. We’ll order you some lunch. And when you arrive I’ve got something to tell you which might make you feel better. But get yourself dried out first, okay?” He then turned to Pete. “He’s better off sorting himself out now, don’t you think?”
Pete nodded, submitting to Lance’s judgment that Danny needed some privacy right now. “See you later, little bro,” were his parting words before following Lance and Grant out of the men’s room.
Chapter 2 follows here: http://www.wetpantsboy.com/stories/tv-advert-extras-chapter-2/