Title: Letting Go

Rating: R

Pairing: Kurt / Finn

Spoilers: set while Kurt is at Dalton. Pre-Klaine

Warnings: infantilism, watersports (desperation and clothes wetting), diapers (wetting), non-sexual non-con, eating disorder, slight angst, hurt/comfort? I'm no good at warnings but I think I've gotten my point across.

Word Count: ~ 9,000

Summary: Finn tries to be a better brother to Kurt. He gets his chance when their parents go out of town for the weekend.

A/N – Written as a fill for a GKM fill for a prompt posted a year ago. It's been sitting in my files for as long and I've finally finished it. I'm not going to post it to the GKM, because someone had already started to fill it months ago, and I don't want to step on anyone's toes.

Also, I don't own Glee or anything related to it. I wish I did. Reviews are appreciated, but if you feel the need to flame, at least make it funny.

Thursday

Kurt glanced at the clock on the wall above the door of his last class of the day. It seemed like every time he looked at the damned thing it would run backwards. Kurt thought it was broken, or that the battery had given up. Precisely like his poor bladder was about to. There were only a few minutes left before class was over, but he really had to go, and every second was pure misery.

Kurt like Dalton Academy. He enjoyed being a Warbler. He especially liked being around people who didn't constantly shove him into lockers or trip him on purpose or stain his clothes with cheap corn syrup and red dye #40. He even liked the homework assignments, to a certain degree. They were more challenging than the work at McKinley had ever been.

As much as he liked attending Dalton, it wasn't perfect. His classes were on opposite sides of the campus. He barely had enough time to get from one to the next, even at an almost jogging pace, so restroom visits between classes were out of the question.

The teachers were strict. Short of someone actually fainting or bleeding, they never gave out hall passes. Their answer when anyone asked for one was always the same, 'Handle your personal affairs during your own time. You're on my time now.' After the first week, Kurt stopped asking.

He'd considered begging for one then though, except he know it wouldn't do him any good, and he didn't want to risk tripping over someone's book bag on the way up to the teacher's desk.

After his first couple of days, once he'd figured out where all of his classes were, he learned that the only time he'd have available to use the restroom was during lunch. It wasn't a big deal, since he had half an hour free then. He'd been skipping lunch anyways, using the time instead to catch up on classwork he'd missed due to his mid-semester transfer. Food didn't sit well with him if he was too stressed out, so he didn't mind.

That day, however, was different. Wes had insisted on an emergency Warblers meeting during lunch, saying it was urgent. Since they have English together right before, he didn't get a chance to duck into the restroom before he was being dragged into the practice room and thrown into an intense debate about Sectionals set lists.

It wasn't too big of an issue at the time. Kurt figured that if he just stopped drinking from his water bottle, he would be fine for the rest of the day. He was wrong.

He would catch himself drinking and have to stop himself. It wasn't easy, because he liked to drink a lot of water during the day to stay hydrated and help keep his complexion clear, and it was sort of a go-to reflex if he was anxious or nervous about something. He'd considered pouring it out into one of the planters spread around campus, but that just made him think of flowing water, and made the urge to go stronger. Besides, if he could have found enough time to dump the bottle out, he'd have used that time to pee instead.

The dismissal bell finally rang and he was silently cursing Dalton, Wes, and all of the other Warblers under his breath. He was bursting at the seams, and still had a twenty minute bus ride to go. He carefully leaned over, scooped up his messenger bag, and rushed out the door. His bus was loading across campus. It was always the first to leave, and the driver waited for no one.

He was the last to arrive, and just barely made it on board before the doors closed. Most students either boarded or drove themselves to school, so he's one of only a handful of students inside. Thankfully, his house was the first stop. He tossed his messenger bag on an empty seat and sat down next to it. He crossed his legs as tightly as he could and wished for green lights and no traffic.

As the bus drove away from the school, Kurt pulled out a book he needed to read for English. He took a deep breath and opened to the first page.

Ten minutes later, he was still on page three. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the throbbing between his hips, and how the waistband of his pants were cutting in to his abdomen, putting pressure on his distended bladder. He took a quick glance out of the corner of his eye to make sure no one was looking his way as he slipped his hand underneath his blazer to unbutton them. It was something he normally would NEVER do, but this was an emergency. It helped, if only a little bit. The pressure was still relentless, and his muscles were aching under the strain. He looked out the window and prayed to whatever imaginary being people pray to that the bus would reach his house soon.

Kurt gave up on trying to read and put the book back into his bag. He only took the bus so that he could save some money on gas since his dad and Carol made him pay for it himself. They said it 'builds character.' Kurt hadn't noticed this so-called 'character growth' yet, but the money he'd saved had grown his wardrobe extensively. He could suffer through a bit of pain for fashion. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to.

The bus ride sucked. Kurt could feel every little bump and jolt go through his entire body. It just made things worse for him. When the bus hit a large pothole that nearly knocked him out of his seat, he wasn't expecting it and almost lost control. He moved his bag onto his lap, hiding the fact that he had a death grip on his dick through his pants. It took several minutes before he was able to let go without wetting himself, but he somehow managed.

Kurt pulled out his cell phone and looked at the time. Based on that and what he was seeing through the bus' grimy windows, relief was only a few minutes away. As he put his phone away, his bladder threatened to revolt, protesting the strain it was under. It fucking hurt. He couldn't stop the gasp that came out of his mouth, and crossed his legs even tighter. He was gripping the edges of the seat hard enough to turn his knuckles white and trying to breathe through it. Every muscle in his body was tense, and it was probably obvious to anyone who looked over that he was extremely desperate to pee and in pain. He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping himself together and holding on. He'd never had to go so badly in his life, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he was going to make it the few yards up their driveway with his dignity intact.

He opened his eyes as his bladder relaxed a little bit, and saw his house come into view. He took a deep breath to center himself, zipped up his pants and his bag, and made ready to jump out of his seat as soon as the bus stopped moving.

The bus rolled to a stop, and he was out the door before the driver even opened it all the way. He walked as fast as he could to the front door, hoping it wasn't locked.

Kurt tried to move a bit faster, almost running, and made it halfway up the driveway when he felt himself start to leak a bit into his boxer-briefs. He had to stop and cross his legs for a moment to stop it, digging his keys out of his bag just in case. He had no time to spare, and he knew it. He scrambled the rest of the way up the drive, feeling himself losing control.

Kurt got to the front door and had to stop and cross his legs again for a few seconds to keep from soaking himself right then and there on the front porch in front of anyone who might be looking over. Once he was able to stand upright again, he threw the door open, thanking every imaginary deity he could think of that it's unlocked, and ran inside. He tossed his bag and keys to the floor and bolted past Finn up the stairs to the bathroom, struggling with the fly of his pants and getting wetter by the second as his bladder struggled to hold on.

He managed to make it to the toilet only a second or so after his bladder gave way completely. Sighing in relief, after hours of pain and anxiety, it was heaven to finally give in, to relax and let it all out.