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[engage]

Summary:

It’s a standard supply closet, auto-lit from motion sensors with floor to ceiling shelves housing spare pilotsuits from half a decade ago, making it an unpopular room to visit. Functionally void unless it’s for things like this.

Jeno only knows the code because Senior Officer Doyoung easily offered the PIN before belatedly adding don’t just go throwing a bunch of junk you want to get rid of, now!

He waits for the doors to slide shut before crowding Renjun against them. “I think I’m going crazy because of you.”

Notes:

I wrote this during Beat It Up era because blond Renjun and red-haired Jeno truly had a hold on me... I also needed to put them in a weird sci-fi/mecha universe wearing skintight pilotsuits and have them #getfreaky.

self-indulgent as ever, any typos/mistakes are mine! have fun!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Warning alarms are blaring for a multitude of reasons. The cockpit is flashing an intermittent red and displayed on the simulation’s widescreen are the words [SIGNAL LOST] in bright orange. Jeno waits a couple of long, dragging seconds, letting all the annoyingly repetitive safeguard protocols attack his senses.

It’s the, frankly growing familiar, sound of the co-pilot hatch opening with a hiss and closing shut behind him that makes him finally drop his head. Here we go.

Jeno’s grip on each control stick slackens respectively and he mutters a curse under his breath, raising a hand to his forehead and removing the headband attached to the training unit, cutting off all non-existent neural connection and communication.

What’s the point in keeping it on when his co-pilot’s abandoned ship? Jeno lets out a dejected sigh and begins raising himself from the pilot seat, gripping onto a metal handlebar for purchase while the exit hatch hisses, sliding open. The system will initiate an automatic shutdown on its own accord seeing as there are no lifeforms housed within it anymore.

Jeno clambers out to the hulking roof of the mecha unit and settles to a half-squat, one of his knees keeping him grounded as he scours the bottomless metal warehouse of bridges and mechas that serves as the stationary training yard.

It’s a jungle of interconnected steel platforms, industrial staircases and tread plate walkways with pipe railings for safety. This is where scheduled simulations are conducted. It is also the primary source of his recent migraines.

With how quickly Renjun is storming off, it’s a miracle that Jeno manages to pinpoint him at all. He’s wearing the same assigned uniform as everyone else; black form-fitting pilotsuit that zips to the neck and thick rubber boots with even-height logger heels. It’s Renjun’s smaller frame and rapid gait, eager to escape, that makes him distinct in an ocean of other trainees.

Rather than using the steel ladder to descend, Jeno slides down the curved bend of the mecha unit’s blunted ‘nose’ and hops onto the bridge. It’s a bad habit that’s gotten him in trouble countless times, seeing as there’s nothing to cushion an accidental fall except pipes, railings, and a prayer that he’ll land on a lower level bridge. Alive, at that.

Still, it exterminates the tedious climb down to the entry landing and gives Jeno ample time to cleave the distance between him and Renjun. While he’s rushing, Jeno notices an equal mix of unimpressed and mirthful expressions.

Crap, this is honestly beginning to get embarrassing.

Already over it, Jeno blatantly ignores Jaemin’s pointed and canine grin when he strides past, entering the left wing of NEO’s twenty-third level.

It’s a route Jeno has memorised by heart, because not only is it where his own dorm is located, but both of theirs and Renjun never bothers to adjust his trail during these episodes.

Jeno can hear the stomping of his co-pilot’s uniform boots and when he turns the corner, he predictably sees Renjun marching onwards, clenched fists at his sides.

Jeno calls out to him. “Renjun!”

Renjun doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even react to his voice which Jeno also expected seeing as this has become a ritual of sorts. Instead, he continues his speed walking, head held high and slim shoulders full of tension.

Were they still in the machine, a psychographic display would surely have been flashing on the screen. [PIL. 02 HUANG RENJUN: INSTABILITY DETECTED] along with the vital readings their pilotsuits provide.

That had happened the first time they trained together and Renjun was nowhere near pleased by the exposure. Horrified and embarrassed that the unit refused to start up until he calmed himself.

“Renjun, you can’t do this every single time a simulation goes poorly.” Thanks to Jeno’s longer legs, he’s spared any real effort and keeps a steady pace behind him.

“I told you to clear the first wave with low energy beams and, instead, you chose to blow everything up.”

Matched pacing echoes through the empty hallway, filling the quiet and vacant space with their disagreeable ambience.

Jeno wants to let out a frustrated groan, but resigns himself to a moment of silence. It would hardly be of any benefit if they both lost their heads.

When enough time has passed for him to relax, Jeno explains, “It gets rid of obstructive enemies quicker and gives enemy offence less time to absolutely pulverise us.”

“And what about the energy it uses?” Renjun spares Jeno a heated glance over his shoulder. It’s impressive how only half his face, that elegant profile, manages to contain maximum levels of annoyance.

He’s pretty when he’s mad.

Jeno feels his stomach thrash inappropriately to the minuscule acknowledgement. He ignores the sensation.

“Not only that, you’re using an attack that should be preserved for situations where we’re entirely surrounded!”

Renjun is looking straight onwards again and Jeno’s vista is reduced back to his slight frame, narrow waist and slim legs encased in their matching, form-fitting pilotsuits. He’s shaking his head in disbelief and the action raises Jeno’s gaze from where it had gotten lost below the waist. Whoops.

“The cooldown is thirty seconds that we can’t afford to sacrifice!”

Jeno takes a deep breath, trying to set his mind straight. “The goal of today’s practice was to reduce decision insecurity and enhance reaction speed under pressing circumstances!”

“No, you’re rephrasing it to suit yourself! The goal was to work together to enhance our reaction time based on mutual decisions! Not blowing up the simulated war ship made up of pixels!”

Renjun squares his feet where he’s suddenly stopped at a four-way cross between halls and finally whips around to face him. His cheeks are flushed with anger and from where Jeno stands above him he needs to slightly look upwards. There’s palpable rage coursing through his body, building up, fit to explode at any second.

Always unable to control his volume during an argument, Renjun yells, “You never ever listen to me!”

Jeno readies to defend himself, hot with genuine irritation mixed with something else.

Something uncontrolled and unstable and alive. That expected, all consuming side effect of being near Renjun, tempting him to prick for more and more and—

The whoosh of a sliding door interrupts their back-and-forth dialogue, making their expressions slacken and they turn their heads to the right, where the sound is sourced. Holding an array of snacks, a charger, and a hoodie, Jisung stands stock-still, awkwardly stiff like if he doesn’t move a muscle they won’t notice he’s there.

“Ah, sorry, should I—?” Jisung is cringing like the words pain him to get out, clearly uncomfortable to have barged in on their very public quarrel.

“Jisungie!” Renjun’s demeanour immediately softens, voice gentle and doting while concern worries his brow. “Why aren’t you in your suit? Are you sick? Have you eaten?”

“I don’t have any training today. Chenle wants to watch a movie.” His mouth gapes open and closed a few times, chewing invisible words, and he clears his throat. “I think I’ll go now.”

With that announcement, Jisung gives a stilted wave goodbye that he appears to immediately regret and shuffles further down the hall in his noisy too-large slippers, turning the left corner in the direction of Chenle’s dorm.

“Have fun!” Renjun shouts supportively, then shoots Jeno a lethal glare, like he really is lower than scum. “You scared him off.”

There’s that irrational tug in Jeno’s diaphragm again, coiling hotly in response to Renjun’s huffiness. It’s a Pavlovian response at this point, the result of constantly pushing Renjun to the aggravation he wears so attractively.

Initially, when Jeno was randomly paired up with Renjun for co-piloting a frontline mecha, he had been innocently curious. Their paths had never crossed explicitly, seeing as he mainly associated with his friends from flight school in the country, namely Na Jaemin.

He’d first caught sight of Renjun in the lower level lab, dressed down in loose clothing that swallowed his compact figure, running maintenance tests; the spread of his chest and diaphragm were covered in cables from a holster monitor with ECG readings being directly uploaded to a large computer run by NEO’s leading doctor, Qian Kun.

Renjun’s expression was placid, vacant like a porcelain doll and seemingly unbothered. In that moment, curiosity quietly nagged at Jeno for sure, but not enough to investigate. He was rather busy trying not to projectile vomit everywhere as a result of excessive eye-calibration testing.

Two weeks later, their names were listed on the year’s WAVE 01 partner assignment and when Jeno searched his new partner’s name through the NEO Pilot Database, he found himself recognising the elegant, mildly unimpressed portrait on his holographic wrist projector.

As it turned out, Renjun had been specially transferred from abroad along with another trainee, Chenle, which was why Jeno had only just been made aware of his existence. Of course, that was nearing four months ago and in present time they’re… ‘thoroughly’ acquainted. In a way. So to speak.

Lips pouted, features taut in near disgust and a contemptuous eyeroll, then Renjun takes off down the hallway again.

Naturally, like a dog, Jeno follows. “You’re being irrational.”

“For what? Caring about our safety?” Renjun argues, raising his voice. “Thinking logically?”

“I acted entirely within my correct judgement as a pilot, according to the situation. It would have been fine. If you hadn’t plugged out and left the cockpit, you would have seen that. Instead you chose to storm out in anger like always.”

“In that stupid robot, it’s not just you whose life is on the line!” Quickly, with grand celerity, Renjun turns around and severs their distance in three short strides. “And those pesky instructions I give out are not suggestions or stupid little quick time events you can opt out of!” He gives Jeno two firm pokes in the chest, getting all up in his face. “They’re orders!”

There’s a palpable energy in the air between them, static as electricity, sizzling and cracking like open-ended wires; explosive, uncontrollable sparks. Jeno takes a deep breath through his nose and forces his shoulders to relax on the exhale.

Calmly, perhaps a bit frigidly in that way Renjun’s raw and open disposition cannot tolerate, Jeno says, “You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion and making a huge show, right now.”

Wrong thing to say, logically, he knows it from the moment the words leave his mouth. But it gets Jeno the reaction he’s secretly seeking. The one he accidentally, subconsciously, provokes whenever he’s awfully pent up and is desperate for an outlet.

Renjun takes another step forward, his small angelic face angled up as Jeno stares him down. They’re so close that their noses are almost touching. Despite their differences, Renjun’s diminutive stature does little to hinder his authority.

“You…” Indignation swirls in the dark pools of Renjun’s eyes and his teeth are gritted like a little animal, “are such an intolerable, cold asshole who doesn’t know when to stop acting like a robot and just fucking listen!”

“Wah. Oops. Excuse me, coming through,” Haechan singsongs in a bored tone, manifesting out of thin air as he slips in between Jeno and Renjun, wearing a neutral expression while shoving them apart.

There for one second and gone the next.

Stupidly, Jeno blinks at Haechan’s departing figure, fully dressed for training and most likely preoccupied with dread; indolence has plagued Haechan since he’d been moved from the computing department and into active unit training. No doubt, they'll be sending him back into analytics unless a miracle happens. Haechan doesn’t even bother to spare them a glance, opting to mind his own business. There’s a first for everything, apparently. It’s almost creepy. They both watch Haechan in mutual silence until he turns the corner, leaving them alone again.

The heavy tension from before, when their faces were near bumping, remains undissipated. If anything, the interruption during the height of their argument and closest point of contact has amplified the loaded atmosphere.

Enough delaying the inevitable, the gratification that they both know this is building up to. An ardent spell of want consumes him, seismic and overbearing, thrashing in Jeno’s stomach, coiling like an endless, steaming spiral.

Cautious, Jeno looks askance to check on Renjun and finds that he’s doing the same, watching intensely. Waiting.

“Maybe…” Renjun breaks eye contact. “Maybe we should argue somewhere with more privacy…”

Jeno grabs Renjun’s delicate wrist, not too tightly, and begins yet another pre-learned route through the corridors. When they reach their destination, Jeno hastily punches in the four number code and the metal doors part smoothly.

It’s a standard supply closet, auto-lit from motion sensors with floor to ceiling shelves housing spare pilotsuits from half a decade ago, making it an unpopular room to visit. Functionally void unless it’s for things like this. Jeno only knows the code because Senior Officer Doyoung easily offered the PIN before belatedly adding don’t just go throwing a bunch of junk you want to get rid of, now!

Jeno waits for the doors to slide shut before crowding Renjun against them. “I think I’m going crazy because of you.”

Renjun’s palms rest flat against his chest, keeping him at a distance even with his back plastered to the door. “Wait a second, you—! Ugh! Jeno, I’m being serious!”

Although it ails him, Jeno pulls back to look down at Renjun apologetically. “Sorry.”

“You should be sorry! That was dumb out there! You know it was!” Renjun huffs, shaking his head. “I have half the mind to request a new training partner.”

Jeno drops his head on Renjun’s shoulder with a whine. “Don’t… don’t. I’m sorry. I… I’m just so used to… listening to myself.”

Fingers tug at his hair in a clenched fist, shaking his head in scolding. “Yeah, because you just know everything!” Renjun relents his grip. “Look at me and promise that you’ll actually consider my strategic input from now on.”

No doubt, Jeno looks like a cowed dog— it doesn’t help that Renjun’s tone is only working to stir him up further. He’s a mess right now. Jeno clears his throat. “I promise… I swear, I’ll be less selfish and listen properly. I’m sorry.”

Renjun narrows his eyes, hums and nods. “Alright, you can kiss me now.”

With that, he immediately begins kissing those pouted lips with fervour, ears burning feverishly. He always leads with an indulgent frenzy, like some sort of mongrel, making a mess of spit and forcing his tongue into Renjun’s plush, willing mouth.

Renjun hums approvingly, melodic and low, amidst Jeno’s pushiness and then lodges a slim thigh between his legs, putting pressure against his already straining cock.

Ah, fuck. Jeno moans loudly, pathetically, into their kiss, if you can even call it that with how Jeno’s fucking his tongue into Renjun’s slack mouth and nipping away, teething his fat bottom lip.

“Careful,” Renjun warns, pulling back to avoid a split lip and he looks at Jeno through his lashes. “Honestly… I’m beginning to assume that your carelessness whenever we train is just a trick to get me hot and bothered. I’ve seen this storage closet more times than I can count.”

“It’s not—” Jeno grunts, hips moving on their own accord, grinding onto the lithe muscle of Renjun’s thigh. “—on purpose.”

“Hm, well, I guess you wouldn’t be that clever…”

The soft-spoken insult washes over Jeno like a pleasant stream of dopamine, the height of human pleasure leaving him slightly dazed. His hands settle on Renjun’s sides, encircling the minute cinch of that tiny waist while he continues humping Renjun’s leg, chasing friction against his solid hardness.

An increase in pressure has Jeno dropping his head in blinding pleasure and he nuzzles into Renjun’s neck, teasing the sensitive skin beneath his jawline with hungry bites and nips.

“Bad dog, watch your teeth,” Renjun snipes with a hiss, harshly gripping his hair and giving it a corrective yank.

Wincing, shutting one eye, Jeno mutters, “Sorry.”

“So…”

Meanly, Renjun applies increased pressure to Jeno’s groin with his thigh, not the pleasant kind. It’s almost like he’s trying to crush his balls as punishment.

For being an inconvenience during training? For being perverted? Just because? The answer is likely a concoction of all three.

“What was it that made you hard this time, you creep?”

Jeno needs a moment to catch his breath, feeling rather winded by the unforeseen torture session, but Renjun isn’t having it if the tightening grip on his scalp is anything to go by. “It was… It was the way… agh, the way you glared at me over your shoulder…”

Suspicious, Renjun narrows his eyes for a moment before finally lowering his thigh, freeing Jeno’s sensitive bits. He considers Jeno, brows raised. “It really is like you piss me off on purpose just so that I give out to you.”

Ah, fuck, his balls hurt. Fighting, fighting. Jeno breathes deeply through his nose and then offers Renjun a disarming smile, eyes near-closed in a picture of innocence. “I told you it’s not on purpose.”

That earns him an exasperated huff that only works to satiate his tease-Renjun-quota; a win is a win.

“You’re so annoying,” Renjun huffs and uses the grip on Jeno’s hair to pull him into another messy kiss.

They lose themselves in another series of long, drawn out and deep kisses. The sort that Jeno could indulge himself in forever, pressing warm against Renjun’s plush lips until they’re plump and oversensitive.

Jeno’s hands slide on their own accord from Renjun’s little waist to his perky ass. He daringly kneads the fat, groping and grabbing without any sense of etiquette or warning.

Renjun lets out a little shocked yelp and his face slightly pinks; the first indication of Jeno having any effect on him whatsoever. Small palms settle against Jeno’s chest for purchase. Renjun’s surprise is replaced with a disapproving glower, brow furrowed in annoyance.

“You’re too comfortable,” Renjun admonishes, all huffy with a lovely pout.

Jeno feels his face light aflame at the scolding, ears hot. Stilted, he clears his throat and slides his hands respectfully to Renjun’s sides. “Sorry.” Truthfully, though, he doesn’t regret it. No, really, where is my tact going?

Renjun must detect his lack of sincerity. He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Get on your knees.”

Jeno doesn’t need to be told twice, he sinks down to the floor of the supply closet, shoulders squared and looking up at Renjun from one of his preferred angles; he’s learned plenty of new things about himself since their assignment to one another.

Renjun’s slim legs look impossibly long and Jeno is somewhat desperate to wrap his strong hands around those lithe thighs, to bring him closer so he can devoutly mouth his visibly erect cock, skintight pilotsuit doing nothing to hide his arousal. Jeno quells the desire, opting to find an opportunity to worship his legs later, when Renjun’s distracted and dizzy in pleasure. For now, Jeno will control himself.

“Good boy. See? You are capable of listening!” Renjun praises degradingly in mock-praise, raking his nails through Jeno’s scalp with an angelic smile that spells trouble; entirely disarming.

Unadulterated ecstasy crashes through Jeno like a whirlpool, pulling him down and nullifying all common sense, leaving him a slightly stupid and malleable creature; only concerned with pleasing the beautiful, intensely pretty man before him.

Still visibly pleased, Renjun grabs him by the jaw, turning Jeno’s face from side to side in silent inspection. He does that sometimes, assessing Jeno’s appearance with vulpine intensity, gaze piercing.

Whatever it is he’s looking for, Renjun seems satisfied and leans back against the wall, resting his weight while his hand splays wide where his navel hides beneath his tight pilotsuit. It travels lower, slowly, and Jeno can’t focus on anything else, anticipation growing.

Jeno’s own cock is straining against his uniform, outline thick and obvious, twitching in interest as he watches Renjun palm himself through his clothes, humming lightly.

Although impatience courses through Jeno’s veins and his basest senses are telling him to disregard propriety, to simply grab Renjun’s nimble thighs and press his face against his hardness, the anoxic quality of being made to wait, of anticipation, holds him hostage.

It’s debasing; even so, Jeno knows it’s where he rightfully belongs, where he wants to be.

Renjun’s pretty cock is outlined through the resplendent material of his pilotsuit and he’s lightly running his thumb over the length in a manner that elicits a shiver and gasp. His other hand begins unzipping the front of his flightsuit, down to the navel, then it slips to play with his own nipples.

Jeno feels like some sort of voyeur watching a pretty man fondle himself, like a pervert choking in his own desperation to put his mouth on Renjun’s chest, to suckle each nipple and run his tongue over the sensitive buds until they’re puffy and swollen. Then he’d kiss over Renjun’s flat tummy, would bite the jut of his hip and nose the neatly trimmed pubes at the base of his cock before choking himself on it until he’s drained every bit of cum from Renjun’s trembling body.

Renjun pinches himself again, letting out a little moan and wincing, hips stuttering forward. His face is flushing, now, and there’s a bead of sweat trailing from his neck past a delicate collarbone that Jeno disgustingly wants to lap back into his mouth.

Lashes fluttering, Renjun finally returns his focus to Jeno and asks innocently, “do you want to touch me?”

Jeno attempts to blink himself out of his aroused stupor, swallows and nods.

Renjun pauses like he’s considering it, like he’s weighing the option of denying Jeno the privilege of his cock, then drops his hands, settling them behind his back in a lackadaisical manner, all coquettish. His feather-soft hair is a mess, his nipples are standing at attention, reddened from abuse and his cock is dripping precome. Jeno wants to swallow him whole.

Renjun hums. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll let you play with me a little bit. But be good.”

Without wasting any more time Jeno jumps straight into action, leaning forward and carefully gripping the base of Renjun’s pretty cock, licking long, wet lines over the smooth, warm skin. He lathes it in a sheen of coated saliva until his lips wrap around the sensitive head, tonguing the slit and tasting the precome that has gathered there.

After such a generous lathering, Jeno spits in his palm for good measure and starts pumping the length in a tight fist, stroking rhythmically. He teases the tip with his tongue for another few moments just to enjoy the sight of Renjun shivering before finally wrapping his lips around his cock and getting to work. Jeno’s in utter bliss, the definitive peak of human gratification; his mind is essentially the equivalent of a peaceful zen garden.

“Jeno… Jeno, ah—“ Every little gasp and moan feels like a reward, Jeno collects them like self-aggrandising victories and, selfishly, he wants more. Renjun throws his head back, shutting his eyes tightly while huffing in overwhelmed pleasure, letting out a high little gasp from time to time. He always loses himself in this. It’s like he also goes somewhere else entirely.

Predictably, nimble fingers card through Jeno’s hair and roughly grip on, using his head like a handle while he bobs up and down, housing Renjun’s cock in his mouth, enjoying the suffocating feeling and weight on his tongue, the way the head invades the back of his throat with every descend.

Daringly, Jeno grabs Renjun's left leg and hefts it over a strong shoulder so he can take him deeper, so that Renjun can rest better against the wall and comfortably fuck his face. The only reason Jeno even gets away with the brazen show of manhandling is because Renjun is too far gone in pleasure, letting out a pathetic little mewl at the show of control and simply accepting the development.

“Keep going, keep going—“ Small moans are spilling openly from Renjun’s lips and he's tugging Jeno’s hair so hard that his eyes prickle with tears at each corner.

It's when Renjun folds over, using his free hand to stabilise himself on Jeno’s shoulder while his thigh attempts to lock him into his crotch, that Jeno prepares himself. Warm, hot cum spills down Jeno’s throat and he easily takes it all, draining every drop.

Renjun loosens his grip on Jeno’s hair, gently fixing it while he catches his breath and zips his pilotsuit up to his navel, generously leaving his bare chest visible.

“That felt really good, wah.” He hums, gives a few bleary blinks then removes his thigh from where it sits on Jeno’s shoulder. Like before, Renjun leans the majority of his weight back on the wall and looks down at Jeno, consideringly. He pats his head like a dog and praises in a cutesy voice, “good job, Jeno-ya, good boy. Hmm, you must be pretty pent up… why don’t you take yourself out and show me?”

It’s a suggestion, really an order, he can’t refuse. With great haste Jeno reaches upwards to unzip his pilotsuit from the neck, down past his strong chest and abdomen until finally reaching where he’s hard.

Hands shaking from adrenaline, he quickly pulls down his black boxers, hooking them beneath his heavy balls. His cock is standing proud, flushed and pearled with the precum he’s no doubt been steadily leaking.

“Wow… look at how hard you are just from sucking cock…” Renjun stares openly, head tilted inquisitively. “That must really hurt…” His boot teases the underside of Jeno’s cock, barely grazing, and he could almost weep. “Do you want to touch yourself?”

Jeno nods, whimpering when the toe of Renjun’s boot presses on his upper thigh in warning. He remembers his manners. “Please.”

“Well, it's not like I'm gonna do it for you, so go ahead.”

Seeing as Renjun has given the green light, Jeno spits into his palm and skips the foreplay. He’s fit to bust at any moment, has been for what feels like forever, the edge is right there and he just needs a little more before he unloads everywhere.

The feeling of Renjun’s observant eyes on him, watching as he fucks his fist like some mindless animal, is enough to have Jeno’s hips jolting forward in a mimicry of fucking. Moans are spilling from his mouth, sad little noises, near pained and overwhelmed.

He wants to cum, he needs to cum, and a particular memory flashes through Jeno’s mind, there and gone, yet enough for his brain to obsessively latch onto. Jeno is winded by the need for more, like a dog with a taste, he’s insatiable with want at the idea and frenetically driven to begging.

“Let me—“ Jeno gasps sharply, interrupting himself as his hand continues moving, impossible to stop. Miserably, he repeats himself, “Let me see it.”

He’s aware that he’s being rather incoherent, just a panting, whining mess on the floor with a fist abusing his drooling cock. The weight of his own head becomes an anchor he can hardly support anymore, so Jeno lets it fall, chin to his bare chest where the pilotsuit is unzipped.

“Hm?” Renjun doesn’t take much pity on him, if anything he sounds confused. “You’ll need to be more clear.”

“Your hole… let me see your… your hole… fuck,” Jeno manages to choke out, gasping for breath when Renjun tangles his fingers in his hair and firmly yanks, forcing his head up once again.

Renjun looks terribly pleased, renewed of all energy like his pathetic begging is terribly gratifying, which Jeno supposes it is.

“Oh, wow.” Sweetly, almost obtusely with an expression of faux-innocence and that slow, lilting tone, “and where did your good manners go?”

His head spins. In hindsight, had Jeno known that Renjun would lead him towards a path of pure delirium, perhaps he would've quietly requested a change of co-pilot. During the inevitable confrontation, seeing as Renjun doesn’t beat around the bush, Jeno would have politely, maybe a little phlegmatically in the way Renjun hates, told him I don’t work well with strangers, sorry and settled for whoever was chosen as his replacement.

Instead, Jeno has welcomed this tumultuous dynamic and not only that, he’s become addicted. Being with Renjun makes him shameless, has led Jeno to abandon whatever propriety he may have once possessed. It’s been replaced by a heightened sense of desperation, of want and need.

Jeno gets hard when Renjun praises him, and he gets harder when Renjun demeans him; the dichotomy of a pretty boy with such an elegant air calling him names and scowling like Jeno is beneath him, like he’s so much lesser– it turns Jeno on more than anything.

“Please, Renjunnie, let me see you,” Jeno begs and Renjun suddenly shoves his fingers in his mouth, feeling out his cheek, obstructing Jeno’s tongue just to be mean.

It’s making a mess and Jeno is sure he looks stupid, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Renjun retracts his fingers, painting Jeno’s face with saliva.

“I just want to see it again, Renjun, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’d have to take this stupid thing off and that’s way too much hassle. Just use your imagination.” Renjun tugs at his earlobe. “I know you’re a bit slow, but you can do it.”

Jeno has seen it before, just the one time Renjun allowed him to jerk himself off at the sight, tip grazing the tight little ring of muscle until cum spilled all over it. Jeno wanted to clean it off with his tongue, to lick Renjun’s pliant hole and eat him out until his jaw ached, to taste, give pleasure, and consume. Jeno was practically shaking with want and, naturally, after enjoying his pathetic show of pleading, Renjun refused with a cruel, beautiful smirk.

Alternatively, as opposed to a fun session of licking hole, Jeno had received a tiny, socked foot on his forehead pushing him away and orders to grab a hand towel from the washroom.

While Jeno would’ve liked a redo, the memory is enough to inspire a climax, hot spurts of come shooting over the floor in long, thick stripes. “Ah, Renjun, fuck,” Jeno groans loudly, fisting his dick and pumping every drop of come until he’s drained. His chest is heaving, breaths coming out in strained pants, and his vision is blurry the orgasm’s intensity. Jeno barely registers when his hair is gripped and his head is guided up, blinking at Renjun with a slack, dazed expression.

Renjun is smiling. That makes Jeno smile back. Probably a little dopey, but… whatever.

“Open up,” Renjun sing-songs, sounding merry as ever and Jeno already knows what’s coming as he parts his lips, eagerly awaiting Renjun’s spit.

Renjun feeds him a thick, wet drip of saliva and Jeno outright moans when it hits his tongue. His dick is spent, but Jeno’s still in that orgasm-drunk headspace and the humiliation is turning all the right nodes for his stomach to flip in arousal.

He’s pulled into a messy, spit-slick kiss, and when they part there’s a string of saliva connecting them together that Renjun wipes with the back of his palm, crinkling his nose in disgust and rolling his eyes at the sight of further mess.

“Ugh, Jeno, you got it on my shoe. Bad dog. You’re so messy. Clean it up.”

Eager to please, always eager to please, Jeno lowers himself and does as Renjun asks. He’s right, Jeno hadn’t paid particular attention to where he was aiming and as a result a few messy lines of cum have painted Renjun’s shiny boot.

He’s giving the curved toe of Renjun’s boot a final lap, one long wet stripe with the flat of his tongue. Most of the cum was already cleaned off, but Jeno knows better than to clock out early without permission.

Renjun lodges his boot beneath his chin and uses it to direct Jeno’s head upwards. From where he's kneeling Renjun looks terribly angelic, like a precious deity carved solely for praise and worship.

Laced with threat, yet still managing to sound painfully sweet, Renjun speaks, “Stop pissing me off. If you want a quickie just ask for it. And the next time you enact any self-approved strategy and disregard my station as your co-pilot, I'm filing a request for a new partner. Okay? Hellooo? Jeno-ya, don’t just look at me like I’ve got two heads, I need a response!”

”Yeah, I hear you, sorry,” Jeno apologises.

Satisfied, Renjun brings his boot back to the ground, fixes his fullbody pilotsuit back to standard protocol, hiding away his smooth stomach and small nipples, zipping it up to the neck. He runs careful fingers through his hair. “Does everything look alright?”

Jeno nods. “You look pretty.”

Like it had been a trick question, some sort of test that Jeno’s just passed, Renjun smiles. Jeno’s heart lodges itself in his throat and his stomach flips wildly like there’s a colony of butterflies housed within it. The feeling remains even after Renjun has left the supply closet. I really might be going crazy.

Notes:

*coughs* is this thing on.

If you got this far, I hope you had fun!