Kyle rushed into the lecture hall after gym, his pull-up barely noticeable under his track pants. Naturally, he had done well in gym today when they timed running laps (he was the school's quarterback), but one nerdy boy struggled. Kyle, being the nice guy he is, decided to stay behind and help him out. That turned out to be a mistake, because now he was running late to his two-hour-long history lecture.

He tosses his empty water bottle into the trash can as he enters the room. The professor watches him take his seat, Kyle doesn't particularly like Professor Dawson (mainly because he was rude and never let anyone leave the lecture for any reason), but he wasn't going to let that in the way of his grades. Taking out his pen and notebook, he begins to hastily jot down what the professor is saying about some boring war. He was only half paying attention because now something else had caught his attention.

He needed to pee. Kyle has had incontinence isues since he was a child, but unlike others, he never grew out of it. And her he was, a 21-year old sophomore in college, wearing a pull-up.

He knows he can't just let go though. It'll soak through the pull-up; these are for minor leaks only. He had to hold it, like the adult he was. He could do that, right?

Half an hour and he was struggling. He knew the professor wouldn't let him leave, though. So he kept quiet.

Another 20 minutes went by. He was in serious trouble now. His bladder pulsed inside him, warning him that it was very full and not happy about it. Plus, he was getting paranoid. Who had noticed? A girl smiled at him. She knew! She had to!

'Okay, calm down'. He told himself.

The guy sitting below him glanced at him, giving him a sympathetic little smile. 'Great, I bet a lot of people know.'

He felt a stabbing pain shooting through his bladder and he hissed. Okay, that was it. This is stupid. He got up to go to Professor Dawson's desk, gasping when gravity hit him. He slowly made his way down the rows in the lecture hall.

"Yes, Kyle?"

"Uh, um..." he struggled to get the words out, afraid of the answer he knew was coming.

"Out with it!" Professor Dawson said sternly, but not loudly.

"I, uh, have to." Kyle shook his head and started over. "May I go to the restroom?" Hearing the word said out loud, he bent at the knees desperately.

"You know my rules." the professor said without even looking up at him.

"But... weren't you informed of my... m-medical issue?"

"I couldn't care less. Get back to work."

Kyle didn't know why he even asked. He made his agonizingly long walk back to his seat. He tried to keep his dancing to a minimum... which basically meant he was trying really hard not to hold himself.

"So..." a woman's voice cut through his intense concentration. It was his friend Caroline. "What did you as the professor?"

"Oh, I uh, um." She looked at him quizzically. "I asked him a question about the quiz."

"What quiz?" Shit. He fumbled for a response. "Are you okay?" She asked him, eyeing him up and down.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He tugged at his shirt. She stared at him. "OkayfineIreallyhavetopee," he blurted out.

"...Oh."

Suddenly embarrassed, he said, "Sorry."

She just shrugged. "I'm guessing you asked and he said no." He nodded. "He does know about your incontinence issues?" He nodded again. "You know, this could be considered mistreatment of a student." He shrugged and looked at the floor.

"Just... focus on something else!" Luke, in the row below them piped up.

Kyle groaned. He whispered, "I'm way past that point." He began rocking back and forth in his seat. A leak slipped out. Instinctively, he glanced at his crotch. Not wet spot, good.

Apparently Caroline and Luke had seen him do this. "Did you..." Luke said.

"Yeah," Kyle said in a strained voice.

"You good?" Luke asked.

'I have to pee so fucking bad,' Kyle thought. 'It's gonna all come out soon. I'm gonna make a mess all over the floor.' He decided not to share these thoughts with his friends. "I-I'm fine."

"Ask again," Caroline said.

"H-He'll say n-no. Just, just like bef-before."

"Try," Luke shrugged.

'I... n-no." Luke gave an inquisitive look. "I don't think I can st-stand up..." Luke's mouth formed into an O.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle got up. He winced and locked his legs together. He shuffled down the stairs to the professor's desk.

"S-sir?"

"Hmm?"

"M-may I please go to the re-restroom? P-please?"

Without looking up, Professor Dawson asked, "How old are you?"

Taken aback by the rhetorical question, Kyle said, "I have a, um, a medical ex-excuse."

The professor finally looked up. "I said I didn't care before and I still don't care."

A guy in the front row stood. "Just let him go to the bathroom, for God's sake!"

Luke and Caroline came down and joined in. "He has a medical excuse," Caroline said slowly. "Do you know what that means?"

Urine was spilling out of Kyle into his pullup. It couldn't hold this much! He shamefully crossed his legs and shoved a hand between them. He wanted to just say screw it and make a beeline for the bathroom, but he didn't think he could move at all, let alone run.

The other students were still talking to the professor. Kyle hadn't noticed until now. "Fine!" Professor Dawson interrupted, "You can go to the bathroom." He waved his hand, gesturing for the other students to go back to their seats.

'It might be a bit too late for that now,' Kyle thought, but attempted to walk to the door anyway. Urine was still seeping out steadily. He felt the moment the pullup was full, and a dribble of piss made it down his leg. He was in the doorway of the lecture hall, looking toward the bathroom door when it happened.

The dam broke. He flooded his track pants, in the doorway, where a lot of people could see him. No one laughed, because they knew of his slight incontinence, but he was mortified nonetheless. He simply sighed and went to get new clothes from his locker.