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Tim noticed the growing need coming from his bladder a few minutes after they began the stakeout. He considered excusing himself to go find a secluded place to take care of it, but Batman had already lectured him once tonight about his time management skills. The man had been especially grumpy this evening, and Tim wasn't itching to give his mentor another reason to criticize him. They had been on this rooftop for hours now and the supposed drop off time they were given had long passed. For whatever reason, it looked like Maroni’s men weren't going to show. Tim was sure Bruce wouldn't want to spend the rest of the night crouched next to each other on this tiny rooftop. Twenty more minutes, tops, and they would pack it in.
Five minutes passed before Tim started to fidget. Bruce, still as a statue beside him, said nothing. Tim struggled to find a more comfortable position to wait in, preferably one where it didn't feel like his bladder was being squeezed from all sides, but quickly realized he was only making his situation worse by moving so much. He settled back into his original position, avoiding looking in Bruce’s direction. He was surprised his fidgeting hadn’t led to a discussion on the importance of maintaining focus during a stakeout. Of course, Bruce could just be saving it for later. Tim took a deep breath, and went back to monitoring the building below.
Ten minutes ticked by before Tim wondered if he would even be able to make it off the rooftop to relieve himself. Before, he was confident that even if he was in excruciating pain the entire time, he would be able to grapple across the rooftops and find a quiet spot to go before he lost control. Now, the pressure inside his bladder was growing, and Tim wasn’t sure he would be able to move from his spot without at least a little bit leaking out. Although, that might not be the worst thing in the world right now. It would feel so good to take the edge off. He pictured relaxing his muscles a bit, feeling the warm piss stream into his underwear, his bladder uncramping instantly. Bruce would be none the wiser, sitting directly next to Tim while his former Robin pissed his pants.
Tim was getting embarrassingly close to executing this plan when another possibility entered his mind. What if he couldn't stop? Tim imagined relaxing his muscles and letting a little bit of pee out. Then he imagined trying to clench back up, to stop the stream. Only this time he couldn't do it, his bladder was too full and he was pissing too forcefully. Tim would be powerless to do anything but shake while he pissed all over his suit, soaking his crotch and legs. Batman would hear the hissing noise and see the rapidly growing dark spot on his pants and know what was happening. His theory would be further confirmed when the smell of urine hit the air. Tim imagined the disgust that would show on the other man’s face when he saw just how pathetic Tim was. Forget ever patrolling together again, Tim would be lucky if Bruce even spoke to him again after that. With that option firmly off the table, Tim went back to waiting.
At the fifteen minute mark, Tim risked a glance at Bruce. The man seemingly hadn't moved an inch since they had set up on the roof several hours ago. Tim wondered if the Batsuit had a urine filtration system he was unaware of.
Twenty minutes passed, and Tim’s furtive glances at Bruce became more frequent and obvious, until the older man sighed.
“Is there something wrong, Red Robin?”
Tim struggled to avoid startling. Any motion at all felt like it would send him careening over the edge.
“It’s just that.. It’s been quite a while. We may need to accept the possibility that Maroni’s men won't show up tonight.” Bruce grunted in acknowledgment.
“We’ll give it another hour.”
Tim felt his heart sink. He wasn't going to last another ten minutes like this, let alone a whole hour. It was time to come clean. Tim swallowed nervously before speaking.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” Silence stretched between them. Tim could feel his face heating up.
Bruce let out a heavy sigh.
“If you really can't wait, then do it in the corner. I can't risk you going too far if the drop off does happen.” Tim stared at him, stunned.
“You- you mean…” He looked meaningfully at the corner only a few feet from where they were both sitting. There was no way Bruce was suggesting he piss in the corner of this tiny rooftop and then sit next to the puddle for the rest of the stakeout. Bruce followed Tim’s gaze to the corner and back. He nodded, then turned back to the street, presumably resuming his watch. Tim sat frozen in his spot.
“Do it quickly, Red Robin. I need you focused.” Tim couldn't quite believe this was happening to him. Internally he knew he should probably draw a boundary here and insist on going further away to relieve himself. He wasn't Robin anymore, he didn't have to listen to Batman’s every command. But another part of him, the same part that held his piss for hours for fear of being lectured, was already calculating how to shuffle to the corner without losing control of his bladder.
He moved slowly, focusing on keeping his pelvic muscles tensed. Once he was standing facing the corner, he began to slowly undo his uniform pants. Tim tried not to think about Bruce sitting a few feet away from him while he pulled his dick out. He wondered if Bruce was truly focused on the stakeout like he appeared to be, or if a part of him was listening to Tim’s movements, picturing what he looked like in this moment. Tim stood there, dick in hand, willing himself to relax.
It didn't take long at all. The second Tim unclenched his muscles, piss came streaming out of his dick. Tim let out a choked noise he quickly attempted to muffle with his other hand. He was mortified. He let go for one second and now he was pissing uncontrollably. Embarrassment shot through him, mixed with the euphoric relief of finally emptying his bladder. It felt like the stream went on forever. The longer Tim went, the redder he could feel his face getting. God, he couldn’t even imagine what Bruce must be thinking right now.
The night was silent except for the soft hiss of urine hitting the rooftop. Tim had just begun to wonder what they would do if the puddle started spreading too far, when the stream began to slow down. Tim barely kept himself from moaning with relief as the last drops emptied out of his bladder. For a moment he stood there, gripping his dick and trembling in the cold night air. Then, he tucked himself away and took a step back. Tim took out the hand sanitizer on his belt and squirted a generous amount onto his hands, all the while avoiding looking in Bruce’s direction. Once he felt sufficiently put back together, Tim returned to his earlier spot.
A few minutes passed with neither man saying anything. Tim was no longer even attempting to focus on the stakeout. His mind was too preoccupied with his own embarrassment and, horrifyingly enough, the hard on that was beginning to form the more he thought about how good it felt to let go and piss all over the roof. His train of thought was interrupted by Bruce clearing his throat.
“Next time you can just go. There's no reason for you to let a distraction continue when you can get rid of it.” Bruce paused, then added, “I don’t mind.” Tim could hardly believe what he was hearing. Next time? Bruce wasn't going to implement a new strict bathroom break schedule into Tim’s patrol route? No lecture on managing his time properly to avoid cases like this in the future? No, instead Bruce was telling him he didn't mind if Tim wanted to piss right next to him again in the future. Tim’s dick was fully hard now. He swallowed and tried to keep his voice steady.
“Yeah, alright.”