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Epic Sting

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Bucket was glad the afternoon sun’s rays had made the ocean water tepid as he wasn’t looking forward to being cold after getting wet. He knew it would happen later after getting out of the water but right now he appreciated the warmth.

To his right was his best friend Skinner. The other boy’s blonde hair had become deflated and dark with saltwater making him look like an entirely different person than he usually looks outside the water. He was staring out at the horizon while straddling his surfboard. Bucket straddled his own, looking to Skinner waiting for him to spot the next wave they would surf together. The water had slowly gotten calmer and calmer, the sun lower and lower over the past few hours they’d been out here. Skinner frowned, knowing there wasn’t going to be another ideal surfing opportunity for today. He looked to his shorter brown-haired friend. They’ve known one another for so long they could practically communicate telepathically.

Bucket swung his left leg around wide in order to get into a better position to paddle back to shore but before he was finished with the motion an incredible pain shot through his leg! He yelled in agony, startling Skinner.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked with concern.

Bucket shut his eyes tightly and grit his teeth.

“I don’t know. My leg,” He couldn’t finish his sentence, hissing instead as the pain was so intense.

“Come on, let’s get back to shore,” Skinner said with urgency. The two teens managed to paddle themselves back but Skinner made sure to stay close behind Bucket if he needed to be pushed. The closest piece of sand they could reach was enclosed by sharp and slippery rocks meaning getting back to the civilized part of the beach was going to either be by climbing over some of these rocks or going back out to sea to swim back. Bucket couldn’t afford to care about either option though as now he was curled up on the sand, trying and failing to drag himself to the drier part of the beach. Skinner dumped the two surfboards on the ground nearby before rushing to help Bucket stand up. He held the shorter boy by the arms and he attempted to stand but his left leg was pulsing with so much pain he couldn’t balance himself. Skinner assisted Bucket in getting to the dry sand though before the short-haired boy collapsed.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What do I do?” Skinner said frantically, waving his arms around.

Bucket writhed on the ground for a few moments before mustering the strength to say, “Look at my leg. Can you see what’s wrong?” He presented the outer part of his leg, his lower legs being exposed because of his black wetsuit not having entire leg coverage.

Skinner bent over to look closely. There was a long winding red inflamed mark on his shin as if he had been whipped there. He described what he saw to Bucket simply. Bucket cursed.

“I’ve been stung!”

“By what?” Skinner asked. He could be airheaded sometimes.

“A jellyfish, dude!” Bucket whined in a high pitch as another wave of agony hit him, he hyperventilated a little as he found it hard to breathe regularly suddenly. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Oh!” Skinner said dumbly. He stood still for a moment then, gears clearly churning in his head. He was excited now. “Bucket!”

“What?” The injured teen groaned.

“Pee!”

“What?” He said again, utterly confused.

“Pee heals jellyfish stings! I need to pee on your sting!”

“Don’t say that so eagerly,” Bucket’s eyes squinted.

“I’m serious! I saw it on TV once.” Skinner grinned. “Let me help you, please!”

Bucket was skeptical. It was a weird proposal and the fact Skinner saw it on TV makes it sound even less true. But the pain was searing, he felt like his leg was being slowly burnt off in a fire. He had to suppress another cry, giving him enough reason to give in. If it works, then better for Bucket. He didn’t have anything to lose, they were secluded in this rocky crevice and it was just between the two of them.

“Fine, fine, just hurry!” He caved.

To Bucket’s misfortune, Skinner took his time getting ready to do it. Sudden stage freight hit the taller teen now as he realized he had to pull out his penis in front of his friend and actually pee on him. Peeing on his bare skin. Skinner swallowed thickly in anticipation.

“Please Skinner,” Bucket pleaded in a meek voice, fat tears streaming down his face, fists digging into the sand desperately. The state his best friend was in broke Skinner’s heart a little. He had to do this. For Bucket. He swallowed again before saying, “Okay, here we go, alright?”

He didn’t get an answer, though he wasn’t expecting one. He pulled down his swim trunks with his left hand and grabbed his base with his right. He aimed and closed his eyes, praying he would hit the sting while he willed his bladder to let go. The stream was weak and choppy at first, not hitting anything except the sand near each other’s feet. Skinner tried harder, using his muscles to squeeze and the stream strengthened, shooting out now onto Bucket’s lower leg. Bucket made a clipped noise at the sensation of the hot 90-something degree liquid touching him. When the urine stream reached his sting, it felt like the pain was melting away instantly and he couldn’t hold back the moan of relief that formed while he wasn’t paying attention. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the sound though it probably couldn’t be seen beneath his tanned skin. Bucket was about to say something when Skinner suddenly shot his urine onto Bucket’s torso, chest, and arms.

“Skinner!” He exclaimed, eyes snapped open now.

“Sorry,” He said with his head down but giving direct eye contact. The smell of ammonia was strong in Bucket’s nose.

“You only had to hit my leg,”

“I know,” Skinner was smiling mischievously.

“You did that on purpose!” Bucket gasped in revelation. Skinner only laughed. The shorter boy stood, finally finding the strength again now that the pain is just an echo of what it used to be. “Alright mister, how about I pee on you and see how funny you find it!”

“Will you really?” Skinner laughed, curled on the sand with his arm in front of his face as if Bucket would actually do it right then and there.

“No,” Bucket smiled now. “Why? Do you want me to?” They stared at each other’s faces. Skinner had a playful glint in his eyes. Bucket automatically knew what it meant without the use of words.

“You . . . You really like this don’t you?”

Skinner didn’t reply, he only looked up at his best friend, silently pleading.

Bucket loomed over him debating. His hands hesitated before they decided to move to his back. They slowly pulled the zipper of Bucket’s wetsuit down, and removed it like a striptease. Whether or not Bucket did this intentionally, neither boy knew. Stark naked now, Bucket mechanically grabbed his penis and aimed it at Skinner. He sprayed him near the face, some of the yellow liquid getting into Skinner’s mouth which he spat out. The release was long and drawn out, much longer than Skinner’s. Most of it hit the blonde’s neck and chest, streaming down his shirtless body. The look on Bucket’s face was intense but as the stream thinned his face softened, strangely stirring something within Skinner that caused his heart to start beating too fast. He exhaled contentedly before pulling his wetsuit back on.

“There,” Bucket concluded.

Skinner sat, soaking up the sweet short minutes he had, covered in piss, experiencing bliss. He wanted to cover himself despite already being covered by his swim trunks. He didn’t attempt to move though as he knew he would unravel if he tried to.

“Thank you,” He said finally, so quiet it was almost a whisper. The shushing of the waves crashing ashore almost drowned his words. The two boys simultaneously noticed how dark it had gotten, the sky a deep orange and the clouds pink with a tinting of purple.

“I should be thanking you. You healed me,” Bucket said, face flushing hotter for some reason.

“I know we should be going home and doing our homework or something but,” Skinner breathed heavily, his own face red hot. “Can we just sit here together for a while? Next to each other,”

Bucket sat down next to his friend, touching at the hips. He noticed that Skinner’s long wild hair had fluffed back up. He resisted the urge to grab a fistful of it and pull Skinner even closer.