Cassiopeia plopped down on her couch, apple-cheeked and exhausted. It had been a long day, clearing the thin layer of snow from what felt like kilometers of wooden walkways and spreading ice-melt granules. It had been a cloudy day, and one of the few days in almost a week that the temperature had briefly risen above freezing.
The heat in Cassiopeia’s home, a small metal hovercraft with two levels, was on a timer, but she couldn’t feel it through her layers of clothes. Cassiopeia’s waist-length green hair was braided and wrapped around her head under a fluffy hat with ear flaps, the same bright crimson as her eyes; her overcoat had a gray plaid pattern that she thought made her look like a bum, but it was so warm that she didn’t mind. Underneath that she wore a sweatshirt, a thermal shirt, and a pair of jeans, specially modified with snap buttons so she could pull open the crotch in emergencies.
As usual, Cassiopeia’s bladder was achingly full. Winter was the first half of the busy season at the docking yard, she hadn’t had time to stop and pee since her lunchtime. After resting for a few seconds, Cassiopeia figured it was time to pull off her layers and finally have a pee. She had to clench up to keep from leaking as she sat up, and as she stood to start taking off her layers, she realized that she’d forgotten to put back the jug of ice melt crystals. The jug wasn’t far away, and neither was the supply shed, so she readjusted her hat and plodded back out into the still, cold evening.
Though it was only half-past five in the afternoon, it felt much later. The sky was dark, with bright, subtly blue lights illuminating the walkways at regular intervals. The snow from the week before covered the ground between the walkways in uneven drifts, providing an eerie half twilight. The thin scattering of weekend hovercrafts, nestled in their stalls around the yard, had their own exterior lights.
Before Cassiopeia knew it, she’d sighted the bright pink of the ice-melt crystals. As she locked the shed back up after returning it, her bladder spasmed. She pushed her legs together and took a deep breath: her hovercraft was only a two-minute walk away. If she could just-
“H-hi, Cassiopeia!”
Cassiopeia jumped and almost wet herself right there. It wouldn’t be too bad if she did, she told herself desperately. It was Friday, and apart from her regular appointment with Azri the next morning, she had nowhere to be over the weekend and plenty of time to wash her clothes.
Cassiopeia turned around. The voice behind her had been feminine, but she didn’t quite recognize it until she saw the pale catlike ears.
“Saoirse?” Cassiopeia’s stomach dropped, and her face heated rapidly as she pressed her legs together to prevent a leak. Saoirse’s face was as red as Cassiopeia’s felt, contrasting her bright hazel-green eyes and pale wavy hair, cut neatly at jaw-length. She was underdressed for the cold, wearing a zipped-up dark hoodie over a heather gray t-shirt, faded khaki pants, and a plain pair of tennis shoes. The temperature was already dropping now that it was dark, and Saoirse was shivering slightly, her catlike ears back a little. She had a backpack slung over her shoulder, and Cassiopeia wondered if she had a place to stay that night. “What are you doing out here?”
“I c-came to see you,” said Saoirse. They stood there for a long moment, staring at each other, until the urge to pee hit Cassiopeia again. She tried to clench up again, but this time it wasn’t stopping. Thinking quickly, Cassiopeia unzipped her outer coat, slung it around Saoirse’s shoulders, and ducked under the nearest walkway. She spread her feet, yanking on both sides of the crotch of her jeans. She wasn’t wearing underwear, but still didn’t quite make it before all the snap buttons had opened. Cassiopeia’s flow started as a hissing trickle, echoing under the walkway while she pulled the crotch of her pants open wider.
“Thanks,” said Saoirse’s voice. “But…aren’t you cold now?”
Cassiopeia looked up, and was a little sad to note that Saoirse wasn’t watching her. It was an odd thought, and she inwardly chastised herself before replying.
“I’ll be fine. It’s a short walk back to my skiff, and the heater’s on,” said Cassiopeia. The heat from her piss felt good in the cold air, and part of her wished she’d wet herself.
Cassiopeia stopped short after about thirty seconds, but didn’t mind. Her sweater – blue with two horizontal purple stripes – kept her warm in her overcoat, but the chilly breeze seemed to blow right through it.
Still needing to go, Cassiopeia buttoned up the crotch of her pants and took a moment to lift her hat and fix her hair a little.
The conversation on the way back was light; Saoirse asked Cassiopeia how she’d been since they’d last met. It had been just over eight months, and Cassiopeia had been surprised to receive a couple of letters from her. Cassiopeia told herself that Saoirse probably just wanted to hear more about her hovercraft for her writing project, though her heart still fluttered each time she opened a new letter.
“What have you been up to?” asked Cassiopeia, unlocking her door and letting Saoirse in first. “Did you finish your writing project?”
Saoirse sighed. “I haven’t made much progress, no. But I have something you should see.” Cassiopeia’s main door opened into her small, open kitchen. The bathroom door was directly to her left, and the living room was on the right, connected to the kitchen. Saoirse took off Cassiopeia’s outer coat and hung it over her arm before shrugging off her backpack. She fumbled with the zippers on it; her hands were too cold to work properly. Cassiopeia knew the feeling all too well, after working in the freezing weather for the past couple of months.
“Would you like to wash your hands?” asked Cassiopeia. “I’ve got warm water.”
Saoirse paused and looked at Cassiopeia. “That sounds amazing. I could use a good pee too, if you don’t mind me using your bathroom.”
At that, Cassiopeia squirmed. “N-not at all, go ahead. I’ll make us some tea.”
Saoirse hung Cassiopeia’s overcoat on a hook next to the door and gratefully headed toward the bathroom. Cassiopeia to be extra loud washing her hands in the kitchen, but couldn’t help hearing Saoirse’s loud “Ahhh,” and the heavy flow splashing into the toilet bowl. Saoirse took over a minute to finish, and when she came back out after washing her hands, the kettle was just starting to whistle.
While they drank, Saoirse told Cassiopeia about her studies, and recounted the story of her archaeology fieldwork, where she’d cursed out a black-winged Andyne man at a butcher shop the morning before her first day at the dig. The man had apologized profusely, and Saoirse had stormed out of the shop without listening. She’d been mortified when she found later that that man was one of the archaeology instructors.
“Mr. Deepuin was cool about it though,” said Saoirse. “And soon I’ve got my degree, so next year I’ll be one of the instructors too.”
Saoirse poured herself another cup of tea. “So, what do you do for fun here, Cassie?”
Cassiopeia felt Saoirse’s eyes on her as she took another gulp of tea. “I uh…don’t do much, really.” She squirmed. “And I prefer ‘Pia’ instead of ‘Cassie.'”
“You do?” said Saoirse, looking Cassiopeia up and down curiously. Cassiopeia unconsciously pressed her thighs together, and it made her need to pee even worse. “It’s pretty. I like it.”
Cassiopeia stood up suddenly. “I uh…need a shower.”
Unfazed, Saoirse also stood up. “I need to pee again. I’m sorry to ask so soon but-”
“You can go first,” said Cassiopeia.
“Well…” said Saoirse hesitantly, twitching her tail behind her. “You’ve seen me pee before. I could go after you get in the shower.”
“I don’t have a shower curtain,” said Cassiopeia. “I can wait, really, unless you want to see me naked.” The joke didn’t quite sound the way it had in Cassiopeia’s head, and she was starting to consider pissing herself just to make the situation less awkward.
Saoirse responded without missing a beat. “I’d kinda really like that. If you’re okay with it, Pia.”
Cassiopeia gulped, “Y-yes.”
As she opened the door to the bathroom, Saoirse in tow, Cassiopeia shivered in anticipation.