Work Text:
Marcus thought the idea that he’d feel Wrench’s movements would have sunk in by now, but as Wrench curls his fingers around the cock’s shaft and the vibe twitched into life, he jumps.
“Shit”, he lets out breathlessly. “Shit.”
Wrench leans back on his haunches, letting his palm drop from the cock, and lets out a long breath.
“Not too much?”
“No, no man. It’s good. Just-”, Marcus trails off, but Wrench fills in for him.
“Surprising? Odd? Weird?”
“Let’s go with new. New.”
“Wanna keep going?”
Marcus nods, and Wrench moves his hand back around the shaft, tugging and squeezing as the motor of the bullet vibe pushed up against Marcus purrs back into life. The material of the hackspace couch digs into the bare skin of Marcus’ legs and for a brief moment he wonders if it’s morally okay to get a handjob on a couch he shares with other people. Then Wrench touches him again, and his head is filled with the fact he’s technically still wearing pants, they won’t get fluid on the couch, and if there’s technical difficulties they should be somewhere they can fix them. And then his head is filled with nothing but how Wrench is touching him, a unnecessary amount of worry that his glasses are gonna slide down his nose, how much more he wants Wrench to touch him, and if this is what just touching feels like, fuck, what’s it gonna be like if Wrench goes down on him.
There’s been so many times, more than enough times, when Marcus has thought about this. As much as he loves getting head- and fuck he really loves getting head- the fact he can’t feel it, the fact he can’t even tell most of what’s happening to his dick always make him feel he’s missing something. And thinking about it is nice enough, but actually doing it, actually feeling somebody touch his dick for the first time is even better than he imagined.
Fuck, he wants to touch it himself.
“Can I-?”
He reaches down towards his cock as his words trail off and Wrench seems to get the idea, because he pulls away, sitting back on his knees to watch as Marcus strokes himself. The first stroke is slow, a rigid up and down motion that lets out a deep, rumbling buzz against him.
Marcus is so caught up in touching himself like this for the first time that he only takes a few seconds to register Wrench looking up at him, and even fewer to make sure he isn’t catching on anything, like the wire connecting his dick to the control box, or the box to the vibe. Instead, he tries to remember what he likes to give, what the guys he’s slept with have liked him doing, and he strokes a second time, slightly faster. Then again, faster, his fingers twisting around the silicone and squeezing, vibrations steady and more constant and more intense as he feels more and more aware of the fabric of the vibe pocket pushing against him. He reaches for the bottle next to the silicone control box, squirts some lube that he’s not quite sure is actually necessary into his palm, and adds a second hand.
Wrench’s eyes are large round o’s and Marcus can’t help but burst into laughter.
“You and your fucking hardware fetish, man.”
“Shut. Up.”
Before Wrench speaks Marcus leans back, shifting his weight down in the couch, and touches himself again. He makes eye contact, or at least something close to eye contact, with Wrench, watching the bright white o’s of his eyes watch as he strokes the silicone slowly, intertwining the fingers of both hands as he moves them up and down. He feels the corners of his lips turn up into a smile, and he's struck with a desire to let a little more sound out his mouth, for Wrench’s benefit.
He’s about to give himself a hard stroke, palms twisting around the shaft as he moans, when his hand tugs on the wire connecting the silicone box beside to the bullet, pulling it out, and the vibrations stop.
Marcus swears.
“The wire wouldn’t get caught if you didn’t fucking insist on wearing brief harnesses.”
Wrench’s eyes are back to dots, and Marcus has never wanted to kiss the disgusting beer covered mask over Wrench’s lips as he does in this moment, words bursting out of his mouth to his defence before they pass through his brain.
“I like this harness! It’s got a pocket for the vibe. And not all of us wanna pack with studded leather jockstraps.”
“Studded leather jockstraps are iconic and you know it.”
“Don’t really think the leather fetishist look works for me”, Marcus says, reaching to grip himself again just as Wrench catches his wrist.
“No”, Wrench says. “No, let me do it.”
When he does, Marcus jumps again as the sudden pressure around the cock spurs the vibe into life, but it’s less of a shock this time, so they must be doing something right.
Wrench leans forward, his grip tightens, and his voice somehow sounds more processed than normal, teasing with the sound of an almost-promise. “You think we could put something in to make it posable? So you could bend it for packing.”
It’s an idea Marcus wishes he liked more than he does.
“Last time I tried a pack and play it popped out of position half way through the day and I had to rush to the nearest restroom.”
“Shit shifts. Could have happened with a soft pack.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t. And why would I wanna do that in the first place though?”
“Just a thought. Y’know.”
“A thought?”
“You, packing with it. Me, meeting you during the day. Us, finding somewhere to cosy up. Maybe like a warehouse or the front seat of a car or something. Me, getting down on my knees in front of you and blowing you in public.”
Oh. Marcus feels his skin flush, and Wrench speeds up.
“Could start by just brushing my lips up against your cock. Would mean the pressure would only change real briefly, and you’d just feel it for an instant. Tease you like that.”
“Fuck”, says Marcus. “Fuck.”
“Then take slightly more of it into my mouth, head up and down on your cock until I take the whole thing into my mouth.”
Wrench changes his eyes to inverted v’s, and sits back, looking as innocent as a person covering their face can look.
“Yeah, y’know. Just an idea. Sounded like you needed some ideas from somewhere. And mine are great.”
Marcus splutters. “Fuck you, I got plenty of ideas of my own.”
“Like what?”
He says the first thing that comes into his head, and regrets it a second later.
“If we made a second we could switch the vibes over. Touch each other and feel it ourselves.”
“Wouldn’t that just basically be jacking off.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“That’s not the point. It’d be like the best of giving each other hand jobs and jerking off put together. You know what you like best, but you still wanna touch somebody else. Best of both, man.”
“Still sounds pointless to me.”
“Blowing each other but feeling it ourselves?”
“Still seems pointless.”
Marcus pauses, tongue pressing into his cheek as he tries to think of something he knows Wrench will like. “Could put an induction pad on either side and hook it up to a power box. Make your muscles twitch while I fuck you.”
“Oh”, says Wrench, and for a moment Marcus thinks he’s actually stumped him. “Yeah. Yeah I like that.”
It takes a moment before he speaks again. “Anything you can think we need to change on 3.0 that’s not just adding features?”
Marcus thinks for a moment,
“Needs variable speed. It’s just an on-off at the moment and it’s not too powerful.”
Wrench snorts.
“We can’t all be magic wand power queens.”
“You’ll have to pry my wand from my cold dead hands.”
“Wouldn’t fit into your pants”, Wrench says curtly, like the very idea is stupid enough to offend him. “And anyway, we can make this”, he gestures with his free hand to Marcus’ cock, “work.”
Marcus lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Wrench gives what is absolutely definitely not a laugh, gently pushes his hood off, and reaches behind his head to tug at the fastenings of his mask as Marcus resists the urge to twitch his eyebrow further.
“You sure dude?”
“Yeah. Yeah I’m sure. Gonna keep the eyes on but I- I want to do this.”
The bottom half of the mask is wrestled off and thrown to the side, and Marcus has a moment where he realises how cold the hackspace gets sometimes before Wrench leans forward and takes him into his mouth.
It’s everything Marcus thought it’d be and so much more, and he wants so so much more, but he doesn’t think he can take even this for long. Wrench grips him at the base, near where the silicone meets the fabric of Marcus’ harness, and fuck, Marcus can’t feel everything but he knows that Wrench is curling his tongue around the tip of his dick, his parted lips soft around the shaft, and fuck he can feel the bullet against him just right.
He reaches forward and buries a hand in Wrench’s hair, fingers tangling in the blond strands, tries not to pull because he knows it won’t change what he feels, but can’t help it. Wrench speeds up, each movement feeling like it has more weight behind it, and fuck fuck fuck Marcus wants more, more.
More.
Fuck.
Marcus’ legs are shaking and his eyelashes are fluttering and he’d have been so loud if years of living with other people hadn’t trained him to keep quiet, but instead his mouth is wide open in a silent scream. It takes a few seconds for him to feel like he’s back in his body, and the first things he does are let go of Wrench’s hair, feel a hit of guilt at how tight his grip, and flop back into the couch.
Wrench smiles, pulls back, wipes the drool from his mouth, and reaches for his mask.
“You were saying something about it not being powerful enough?”
Marcus is sure his thoughts are at least slightly coherent but all that comes out is a faint and shaken “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
His voice is so breathy and faint that he doesn’t even realise its his at first, and he swallows, then tries to speak again.
“That was”, he pauses, circling his tongue in his mouth, “That was so good. Holy shit man.”