Work Text:
"Um, Four?!"
When Wild enters the garage with that tone of voice, Four gets ready for anything. Cracked banisters, bent lamp posts, blown-out ovens and flaming toasters; he's fixed all sorts of household appliances. All casualties of Wilds war on common sense. So Four is practiced and prepared to play field medic for whatever poor mechanism fell victim today.
And the current poor soul?
The vibrating dildo that Wild clutches to his bare chest.
Four beckons Wild into the garage and orders him to shut the door behind him before the cook starts crying (or before any nosy housemates come to investigate the strange humming).
"What happened?" Four clears off the space on his workbench; the vibrator is still deathwailing, meaning he'll have to put it out of its misery before he gets any peace and quiet, "Are you okay?"
"No, I-" Wild sniffs, eyes watery and big, "I can't turn it off. I think I broke it."
The other man clearly ran down here in a hurry - he's not dressed, bare everything hanging out. Four ignores his usual instinct to put some damned pants on the man - this wasn't an intentional streaking, after all. And his friend is clearly too distressed for clothes right now.
"It's probably nothing big - just a loose wire," Four pulls out a small screwdriver and reaches out to take the toy, "But I meant are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself with it or anything, right?"
"Oh! No, I'm fine. I just- I don't want Time to be mad. This is his. I borrowed it from upstairs. I was gonna surprise him," Wild hands it over, wiping his face with the back of his hand and turning his full hopeful stare to Four, "Do you think you can fix it?"
Four shrugs, "Maybe. But I'm sure he won't care either way. These things are hardly meant to last forever, you kno- Why is this wet?"
The luminous pink dick wriggles in Four's hand.
And from it, a small, wet squishing noise is audible.
Fleshy and moist.
Maybe it’s water, The part of Four that clings to sanity thinks, maybe it’s just water, maybe Wild washed it.
It doesn’t sound like water. It doesn’t feel like water.
Four feels dread in his soul.
Meanwhile, Wild is frozen. He looks up from the floor, eyes wider than dinner plates. His gaze goes from the fake penis to Four's face and then back again. His mouth opens and closes like a fish but no noise escapes.
"Wild." Four says again, feeling himself creep ever closer to his inevitable psychotic break, "Why is this wet?"
Wild meets his eyes again.
Blue on Gray.
Terror on existential despair.
Angry, pink monster cock growling between them.
Wild leaps at him, grabbing at the vibrator, "I AM SO SORRY I DIDNT EVEN THINK-!"
His grab pulls the pink penis out of Four's hands, but the lube makes it slippery and Wild fumbles it.
The floppy silicone cock falls to the floor, letting them hear its displeasure as it shakes and rumbles, splattering lube and god knows what else all over the floor and Four's shoes.
Wild dives for it again, full on crying now as the penis slips from his hands like a bar of soap and rolls under a nearby wardrobe. The toy vibrates against the wood, making the noise echo off the walls.
Four stands stock still, hands wet and sticky. He remain still like a stone as Wild drops to his knees, unintentinally exposing everything to Four, to reach under the furniture to retrieve the runaway sex toy.
Four closes his eyes.
Heavy is the knowledge of his friends sex lives.
—----
"Hey Four?"
"Hmm?" Four doesn't look up from the antique chandelier arm he was working on. He's never minded Legend coming into the garage. The other man usually just comes in to get some inventory. He rarely ever bothers Four.
A leather harness lands heavily on his side table.
But rarely doesn’t mean never.
"I can't get this thing to connect properly," Legend sits down on a spare stool, "I think it might be defective."
"Sounds like you should return it, then," Four answers, trying very hard not to look. Perhaps if he didn't make eye contact he could pretend the strap-on wasn't sitting there.
Menacingly.
"I would, but then I'd have to pay shipping. It would be easier to just fix it." The question is implied. Four is almost tempted to play dumb.
But that would mean dragging this out and Four isn't one to fight inevitability. So puts his stuff down to address the problem, "You know I charge by the hour for repair jobs, right?"
Legend just scoffs at him, "It won't take an hour. It's just that the base of the penis was attached upside down, so the whole dick is curved down when I connect it to the harness. It's a quick fix, okay? I'd fix it myself if you weren't so possessive of your tools."
"You’re the last one I want to hear talk about possessiveness," Four grumbles. But he still reaches over to take a look. The faster he fixes this, the faster the strap-on leaves the premises.
He is pleasantly surprised to find that Legend's right - it’s a quick fix. He just has to unscrew the base of the dick where it’s supposed to connect to the harness, reorient it, and screw it back on properly.
No problem, except that he's forced to hold it by the dick while he works on it. And while this fake penis is blissfully dry and unused, he still has to grip it firmly while unscrewing the base. Which means that he can't help but feel the length and girth of the fake penis. Which means he can't help but feel a little judgemental about it all because, well.
It's quite a handful.
Overcompensating much?
"Hyrule likes it big," Legend says.
"Stop reading my mind."
"I'm not," Legend crosses his arms and gets all surly, "It's just written on your face. I'm not Wars, alright? It's not about vanity."
"Sure, whatever," Four appeases him just so that they don't have to discuss Hyrule's hankering for huge cocks. The less he knows about Legend and Hyrule's bedroom activities, the better. "Here. Done. I'm going to bill you, you know."
Legend tosses him a twenty and sweeps his toys back into the discreet bag he'd brought them in, "Keep the change."
"Next time I'm charging an asshole tax," Four calls at Legends retreating back.
All he gets for his troubles is a flipped bird.
------
"Um, Four?"
Four looks up to see Hyrule hovering at the stairs. The doctor is wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, which is weird apparel for the warm spring weather.
Nevertheless, Four puts his soldering iron down to give Hyrule his full attention, "What's up?"
Hyrule doesn't answer at first. He just stands at the top of the stairs, getting redder and redder. Four glances at the thermostat, wondering if it was on the fritz or if there was something else.
"Hyrule?"
The brunette enters and closes the door behind him, avoiding Four's eyes. He ambles down the steps. His gait is a little funny.
"You okay?" Four eyes Hyrule’s walk, "You look stiff."
"Yeah. I, uh," Hyrule trails off. Now that he's closer Four can see the embarrassment on his face, "I need a little help."
That sets off Four's incoming bullshit senses. The same sense that feels a disturbance every time Wars hears a bit of juicy gossip, or when Wilds clothes are about to become optional. But since it's Hyrule, he gives him the benefit of the doubt. "Sure. With what?"
Hyrule rubs at the base of his neck, "It's a bit embarrassing."
"If it involves you then it's automatically less embarrassing than anything else I've had to deal with from the others."
Hyrule laughs, "I'm serious."
Me too. "C'mon, spill. What's on your mind?"
Hyrule finally makes eye contact. Satisfied with Four's genuine look, he relaxes a tinge and bashfully explains, "I got something. For me and Legend. And I thought I'd try it out ahead of time - to make sure everything was working, you know? - and I got a little... stuck."
Well, that explains the walk and the clothes.
And it seems his bullshit detector was working after all. Four's initial instinct to give the bullshitter a flat, disappointed look is stifled.
Hyrule can bullshit Four a little bit. Just a little. As a treat.
"Got it. Show me."
Hyrule turns around and pulls off his hoodie to expose an intricate weaving of leather and buckles all along his back. Four's eyebrows raise at the complexity - clearly this was not a garment meant to be dealt with alone.
"I think something went wrong with the straps on the back," Hyrule turns to look over his shoulder, "It doesn't feel right. I tried to get it off but I couldn't reach the buckles. Can you get me out?"
Four examines the mess Hyrule managed to tangle himself in. He's honestly a little impressed with how badly Hyrule messed this up. "I can. But how did you manage this? Don't these things usually come with instructions?"
Hyrule looked ashamed, "Yeah. They do."
He says nothing more.
"Well," Four moves on, "I can get it off. You want it intact, right?"
"Yes, please."
It takes a little finagling but eventually all the buckles come loose. Thankfully the harness is good quality so Four doesn't have to be too concerned about accidentally breaking it. He does have to push Hyrule's pants down a little to reach all of the straps though.
He does his best to not compare the size of Legends strap-on to Hyrule's body mass.
When the last incorrectly buckled strap comes loose, Hyrule lets out a huge sigh of relief and slumps over into his usual poor posture, finally able to relax after who knows how long.
"Thanks," He smiles over his shoulder at the mechanic, "I was worried I'd be stuck like that until Legend got home."
"No problem," Four says, finding that he mostly means it. As weird as it is to have to free his friend from his own bondage rig, at least Four didn't see anything too egregious this time.
Then Hyrule turns around to face the mechanic.
Two thin chains hang from his erect nipples. Shiny silver links connected to a harsh looking clamp on one end and a small weighted ball with a bunny carved into it on the other.
Hyrules nipple clamps lightly jangle as he moves, the dusty pink areola flushed red.
Four throws Hyrules sweatshirt at him. "Please leave now."
-----
"You would think this shit would be more durable for how fucking expensive it was. I didn’t know I was getting ripped off."
Wind sulks on his bedspread, arms crossed and the very picture of a disgruntled young adult. The clothes and dirty dishes scattered everywhere didn't help. Four wrinkles his nose at the mess.
"I don't think any computer is durable enough to survive you dumping trash into the vents," Four grumbles. He may be getting paid for this but he was starting to wonder if it was worth having Wind hovering over his shoulder and complaining at how long it was taking.
This is why Four is usually a ‘pick-up and drop-off’ only mechanic.
"I didn't drop anything!" Wind argues despite the overwhelming evidence jamming the fan of his computer. He marches over and paces a few unhappy steps before sitting back down angrily, "It's not my fault the thing is a piece of shit!"
It cost several thousand dollars and you didn't even pay for it, Four doesn't say. He just puts his head down and works faster.
Wind could be okay company occasionally, but he's a downright brat when his toys are taken away. Even the most tolerant in the house find him difficult when the wifi goes down. And now that his whole rig was on the fritz? He’s unbearable.
Four hates jobs like these. He wishes he'd have told Wind to call someone else. Four's not that strapped for cash, after all. And what's the point of being your own boss if not for the ability to tell certain clients to go fuck themselves? If it weren't for the fact that they share a house Four would've told Wind to pound sand.
Unfortunately, he's just as much a hostage as he is a handyman in this place.
Four fishes around in the hardware until he manages to extract the culprit, "Here. gum wrappers. Got in the way of the fan and probably switched on the fire safety measure."
Four bundles up the wad of wrappers (and seriously? How many times did Wind drop these into the grates to make such a mess? Disgusting.) and throws them at Wind. Cathartic, after hearing the boy complain for the last five hours while Four troubleshooted his whole rig.
Four patiently waits for the computer to reboot and also patiently ignores Wind throwing the paper back at him, "This should work. If it doesn't then it's not a hardware issue."
"If it wasn't a hardware issue I wouldn't have needed you," Wind bitches at him.
Goddess, Four hopes this works. He's had enough of this kid for today, thanks.
The computer beeps to life, drawing both their eyes. Four hopefully taps the keyboard, ready to go back downstairs and relax by himself. Finally the screen lights up, sputtering out of sleep mode.
The computer issue is officially over and formally resigns by way of broadcasting a giant, flopping pair of tits across all 4k of its pixels.
"Oh fuck yeah! Give it to me harder! Give your kitty cat your big, fat cock!"
Oh, and look at that - the speakers work too!
Wind shrieks like a banshee. He leaps to his feet and attacks his own monitor, throwing the screen to the floor in a fit of embarrassment and misplaced rage. The screen goes dark but the speakers still blare over-acted moaning and the slap-slap-slap of a dick in a hole.
Wind fumbles for his headphone jack and slams it into the port, quieting the terrible porn but not silencing it. The sounds from his headphones are still loud enough for Four to hear.
"Mmm yes! Make me purr, baby!"
Four barely manages to smirk at Wind before the younger boy is shoving him out of the room with more screaming.
"Get out! GetoutgetoutgetoutGetOUT!"
"Aw," Four resists the pushing, easily holding his ground against the computer nerd who's only exercise is walking downstairs for mealtimes. He can't help but give back all the shit he's been handed today, "What's wrong? Embarrassed? Don't be - it's only natural for a boy your age!"
Wind screams again, voice cracking, as he abandons trying to push Four out. Instead he raises his voice and screams down the hall-
"TIME! FOUR WON'T GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND HE'S BULLYING ME!"
-------
"Please?"
"Fuck no."
This is too far - even for him. He'll admit he's done a lot of ridiculous shit for his friends, ridiculous borderline lewd shit, but he's gotta draw the line somewhere.
And that line is fisting Wars.
"C’mon," Wars whines with a little shimmy of his hips, "Please? I can't do this myself. My wrists don’t bend that way!"
The taller blonde was already standing next to Four's work desk, leaning over hands on the tabletop and exposed. He's standing stiffly and very clearly uncomfortable.
Four does not give a shit.
"I'm not sticking my hand up there," Four reiterates, turning away, "Go to Hyrule. He's a doctor - I'm sure he's got experience in this type of thing."
"He's not home," Wars complains, "And I'm not waiting until he is. I have no idea when he'll be back. And I would like this bullet out sooner rather than later."
Four makes a token effort to look busy and tightens a few screws on his latest project, "Then you should have thought of that before you stuck it up there."
"I did!" Wars whines dramatically, "But is it my fault the product was defective? The line broke, Four! It was poor engineering that caused this, not me! I'm the victim here!"
No, Four thinks, The only victim here is Me.
"Then go to the emergency room. They're actually equipped for this type of thing," Four tries.
Wars grimaces as he shifts, "I refuse to go to the hospital for this. I would rather die."
"Then die."
"Four!" Wars whines again, tone softening into something pathetic, "Please? I really need your help!"
Four drops his tools in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose to try to hold back his oncoming headache, "Why me? Why not go to the Old Man? I'm sure he’s already been all up in there. And it’s not like he hasn't seen you be a pathetic mess before."
Wars stares at him, "He’s not home. But aside from that - have you seen the size of his hands? I can handle a lot but even I have limits, thank you very much!"
"What about Wild?" Four asks with all the hope he has left.
Wars expression flattens, "Not that I don't love the man, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable asking Wild to dig around in there. Not after the turkey stuffing incident."
Four shivers at the mention.
"Legend?" Four's struggling to not sound like he’s begging, "Sky? Wind?"
"You're not serious, are you?" Wars wriggles in discomfort, "Please, Four? You have the smallest hands in the house."
Four closes his eyes and sighs through his nose. He doesn't really want to do this. But he's done a lot of things he hasn't really wanted to do in the name of friendship, hasn't he?
What’s digging around in Wars ass for a bullet vibe compared to everything else he's already done?
Gods, he regrets every decision he’s ever made up til now, including the decision to look Wars in the face only to see genuine discomfort and desperation.
I should have just stayed homeless, Four thinks despairingly.
Still, he steels himself and motions for Wars to assume the position as he grabs the lube Wars so graciously provided. As he lubes up he feels himself submit to resignation and apathy.
He cannot believe this is his life.
"It's rather deep.” Warriors says as he bends over the table, arching unnecessarily. "It might take some digging."
"I will do this under the strict conditions that you not speak unless spoken to," Four says flatly, "And also that we never, ever mention this again."
Warriors mimes locking his lips and tossing away the key, daring to wink at Four over his shoulder.
Four wonders just how many drinks it'll take before Wars breaks that promise. Maybe two, if they’re lucky.
Four starts with two fingers, testing to make sure Wars was open enough before adding more and reaching deeper. He probes gently, searching for the small wire that should still be attached to the vibe. If they're lucky then it'll be an easy extraction, provided the string doesn't break off again. And if that happens then they'll probably have no choice but to get actual emergency care, since he won't be able to grab a wet bullet buried in someone's ass.
Four prays it won't come to that. Partly because Wars would be insufferable about it, but also because an afternoon in the hospital would be so much harder to scrub from his brain than a few uncomfortable minutes with his hand in his friend's ass.
And Four isn't a virgin, nor is he unfamiliar with anal sex, but there's just something so wierd about basically fisting his friend. Especially when it's in a non-sexual context. Four has to actively work to not grimace at the hot, wet squishiness around his digits.
Wars, to Four's bitter resentment, does not seem to feel that level of shame. He looks unbothered by Four fingering him. In fact he looks almost amused when he spots the cracks in Four facade of nonchalance.
Asshole, Four bitches internally.
A few more moments of digging around and Four finally feels the brush of wire. He reaches for it and tries to grab it but accidentally nudges it a bit. He reaches for it again but the sudden motion of Wars' body shifts it away.
"Holy-" Wars jerks away, legs trembling suddenly.
Four retracts his hand a bit, "Did I hurt-?"
"Oh gods," Warriors moans and arches, definitely not in pain, "Oh FUCK!"
It takes half a beat for Four to register what’s happening.
Then he is filled with unholy rage.
"This is not for pleasure, you whore!" Four hisses, smacking Wars on the back of the head, "Stop moaning!"
"I can't help it," Warriors' eyes cross and his mouth hangs open as he moans erotically, "It's right there!"
"What? You mean-,” Four sputters in disbelief, “The vibe is still on?!"
Wars huffs and shudders in pleasure, “I couldn’t turn it off!”
This is hell, Four realizes, I'm in hell.
"Eject on my table and I'll eject you from his room," Four fishes for the toy with urgency, far too aware he has some important documents within ejaculation range.
He really, really wishes he’d just stayed homeless.
Finally, his fingers manage to snag the wire. He pulls it out slowly so that the wire doesn’t break. It’s a tantalizing tease, according to Warriors’ moans and groans. Thankfully the taller blonde manages to keep himself under control and the vibe is pulled free without Warriors coming all over Four’s work space.
Four holds out the toy by its tail as it shakes in the cool air. He holds it out to Warriors.
"Take it and go."
Externally, he's apathetic.
Internally, he's trying to repress this memory in real time.
Warriors opens his mouth to speak-
“No."
Four jiggles the toy in front of Warriors face.
"Take it. And. Go.”
Warriors frowns unhappily but does as requested, probably because Four left his sledgehammer within reach.
Four goes to wash his hands, both of filth and of this whole ordeal and possibly also everyone in the house.
—-----
“So? Is it fixable?”
Four sits up from his crouch by the bedside, “I can fix it, but it might actually be more cost efficient for you to get a whole new frame. This is cheap material.”
Dark hums, rubbing at his chin, “Bed frames aren’t cheap. Can you just reinforce it?”
"I could,” Four answers, already calculating the cost of materials and installation, “But I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t just break again. There's a limit on what reinforcement can handle. But if a new frame isn't in the budget I can do my best.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Dark shrugs, “And if it breaks, it breaks. Not like I need a frame anyway.”
At least he's an easy client.
Four pulls out a notepad to take some measurements, “I’ll get the materials and come back tomorrow to install them.”
“Can you do anything for tonight? I got a hot date coming over and I’m planning on getting railed within an inch of my life.”
Too much information. But, “Sure. I brought some basic equipment. I’ll add some extra braces to the legs and base.” Four spots the handcuffs, “And the headboard.”
Dark approves the pricing and leaves Four to his work.
For the next half hour it is blessedly peaceful as Four attaches additional supports and buffers to all the joints and limbs of the bed. There's some shuffling and a door slams at one point but compared to the noise the house usually generates this place is downright idyllic.
Four is nearly done with installing temporary brackets when he hears Dark get the door. Two voices talk, greeting each other pleasantly. Glasses clink as Dark gets his guest a drink. After a few more minutes he hears the distinct sounds of rapid movement on the squeaky couch and barely contained groans.
Four doesn’t pay them any mind - his client’s business is their own, after all. He really doesn't care what happens in the apartment as long as they keep it in the other room and no one propositions the handyman (and fuck porn for sexualizing his job - he's there to work, not sleep with lonely house spouses)
It’s only when the two draw closer that Four recognizes the other voice and realizes that maybe, this time, his client's business isn't just their own.
Because when he looks up he meets Twilight’s eyes, wide, surprised and mortified.
Probably because of his very sweaty, very naked body.
How does this keep happening? Is he cursed? Did Legend curse him?
Twilight sputters and stammers, grabbing his crotch to try to hide himself, "You-! wha-? I-"
Dark enters after him, equally undressed and moist. The dark haired man blinks in surprise, seemingly startled. "You're still here? Didn't you leave? I could have sworn I heard you leave."
This man was way too casual about being undressed in front of Four.
Four averts his eyes but it's too late - he now knows that Twilight needs both hands to cover his dick. "I didn't leave. Clearly."
"I- I can explain-" Twilight is still struggling to make complete sentences.
Before Twilight can attempt to stutter out an explanation Four really doesn’t need, Dark shamelessly takes a hearty handful of Twilight ass, “Don’t strain yourself, honey buns. This guy's just here to fix the bed. Remember we broke it last time?"
Twilight flushes ever darker.
"Anyway," Dark smirks down at Four shamelessly, "I heard the front door shut before and thought you left. But it must have just been my cats."
"Riveting," Four starts packing his things. Screw this job.
His nonchalance seems to tickle Dark, who smiles cockily.
"My bad, my bad," The man waves it off, "Sorry about this. Didn't mean to flash you."
"It's fine," Four mutters. Not the first time he's seen a client naked. Although usually it's a fifty year old MILF and not his friend and his friends prohibited boytoy. "Just give me a minute and I'll be out of here."
Dark hums. He pulls Twilight into the hall under the guise of letting Four finish up. Although the resounding noises make it very clear that Dark doesn't care if Four knows exactly what's going on on the other side of the wall. And it sounds like Twilight got over his misgivings rather quickly, too.
Four takes the long way around the apartment to avoid having to see anything he didn't already see. He's almost out the front door when he hears Dark call out to him, "Hey Mr. Repairman!"
Oh, Four can already feel what's coming. He feels in in his fucking bones.
But he’s a Professional. So he takes a deep breath and turns around to meet Dark's shit eating grin face on, "Yes?"
Dark eyes glitter with amusement as he pokes his head around the corner of the living room. With obvious and near sadistic delight, he delivers the worst lines Four’s ever heard.
"Since you're here I figure I gotta ask - I've got a malfunction in my pipe. You think you can come into my bedroom and take a look? Oh, but I don’t have any money. But I can pay you some other way." Dark emphasized every word with an undulating thrust and grind of his hips, proudly showing off what he was offering.
Four slams the door shut.
From beyond the door he hears-
"I told you roommates were off limits!"
"Oh c'mon! It was just a joke! How could I resist? This was literally the beginning of every bad porno-"
Before he goes home, Four goes to the boiler room and vindictively shuts off Dark's hot water.
—------
Four
Please come to my room asap.
And please bring scissors.
And also please be discreet.
Four puts his phone back into his pocket. He grabs a generic pair of scissors and goes upstairs, nodding to Wild as he passes him in the kitchen. He walks past Legend in the hall and dodges Wars on the stairs. He waits until Twilight closes the bathroom door before he lets himself into Sky’s room.
Only to find his friend on his bed, bound in decorative red rope from his chest down to his feet.
At this point Four would be lying if he said he was surprised to see Sky was naked.
“What happened?” Four asks bluntly. He quietly closes the door behind him but he keeps his distance from the bed. He tries to keep his eyes from drifting from Sky's face. It’s very hard. Sky’s ropework extends past just wrapping around his legs; there’s a thinner, more lacy string prettily tied around his half erect penis. Four thinks Sky had his lap covered in an effort to be at least a little presentable when the mechanic entered, but sitting up displaced the blanket.
Four wishes he saw less of his friends' genitals.
“Ah, well,” Sky starts bashfully. He notices he was exposed and subtly covers himself as if Four hasn’t already seen everything. “I was just trying something new. I thought it would be best to experiment on myself before using it for real. But as you can see - I got a little overzealous.”
Sky lifts his legs to show off the ropework, “I can’t get myself untied. I think I tied the knots wrong - they were supposed to be slip knots.”
Four cannot believe this is real life. “So you basically tied yourself up for real?”
Sky’s blush answers for him, “Can you please cut me loose?”
“Can't you do it?” Four questions. Sky’s arms aren’t tied up so....
“I would,” Sky averts his eyes again, “But the ropes are a bit more constricting, than I thought they’d be. I can’t bend enough to reach.”
Or course he can’t. Because why would Four ever be able to get away with just playing delivery boy when he could get up close and personal with his friend's naked body.
But he's been through this shit enough to know by now that there was no avoiding this fate. So Four pulls his scissors out and gets started at Sky’s ankles.
The scissors Four brought weren’t the best for this job so the mechanic has to saw at every rope, dragging out the process. Even after five painful minutes of awkward silence Four is still not done. And now that he’s starting to get to the ropes around Sky’s thighs the awkward silence was only getting worse. It especially didn't help that Four has to push the blanket out of the way, meaning that he’s seeing everything.
And he can't even look away this time. An eyeful of his friend's junk was just a little less important than making sure he didn't accidentally castrate anyone.
“So,” Sky breaks the silence just as Four reaches mid thigh, which also happened to be right where the tip of Sky’s decorated cock started, “Sorry about this. I know this is kinda weird.”
“It’s fine,” Four mutters, keeping his eyes focused on the job, “I mean, at least you’re not moaning.”
Unlike certain assholes, he thinks spitefully.
Four ignores the weird look Sky gives him for that comment and pushes the conversation along, “So why’d you call me?”
Why does everyone call me?
“You were home, for one.” Sky grimaces nervously when Four’s blades get even closer to his sack, “And you’re probably the only one in this house I’d trust with a blade near my… you know.”
“Balls?” Four snips a knot away. He pretends not to notice Sky flinching.
“Among other things, yeah.” Sky smiles genuinely at the mechanic as the second to last knot is cut away. “You’re reliable in a pinch. And I can trust you to keep a secret.”
Sky’s genuine compliments might have been flattering if they weren’t in reference to Four’s ability to cut Sky’s dick and balls free of some self-tied shibari.
Four cut away the last rope and Sky groans with relief and stretches his legs out. The ex royal guard sighs gratefully at his newfound freedom, “Oh my goddess that’s so much better!”
As Sky stood up and stretched out Four noted that there was still a bit of rope that had been left untouched. Four gestured to it as nonchalantly as he could, “Do you need help with that?”
Sky glances down and flushes.
“Oh, uh,” Sky starts bashfully, “I mean, I hope not? Hehe, I think I can get it off without cutting. Since I’m not. Um. Hard anymore.”
“Probably.” Four turns away. “Do you want to make sure before I leave?”
Because as much as Four doesn’t really want to cut away his friend's dick bondage, he also doesn’t want to leave Sky in a potential bind; he might as well go all the way.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Four hovers near the door, facing the wood and staring at the grain. He waits patiently as Sky shuffles around, presumably freeing his penis.
It's possibly the most painful silence yet. Four struggles to not cover his ears to the strange noises behind him.
"...Do you wanna try lubing it up?" Four winces at his own suggestion.
Sky doesn't respond with words, but the noises get a lot moister after a minute.
“Got it!” Sky finally sighs with relief. There's a muffled sound of rope hitting the carpet.
Thank the goddess - Four doesn’t need to handle his friend’s cock. Small mercies.
Four waves off Sky’s thanks and makes a fast exit. He goes downstairs and immediately throws out his scissors.
Thirty rupees is a small price to pay to rid himself of the physical reminder of today.
—------
Four supposes that he should have predicted this. He’s been dragged into everyone else’s sex lives -
Why not Time?
At the very least the older man doesn’t try to make awkward small talk while Four examines the handcuffs around his wrists.
Malon, on the other hand, does.
“I’m really so sorry about this,” She’s so apologetic it burns, “I can’t believe the lock jammed like this. It’s never happened before.”
“It’s alright,” Four tries to keep it professional and focus solely on the work and not the slip of glossy leather straps he can see peeking out from behind Malons shirt collar, “It happens. I’m just happy I have what you need.”
And happy that the couple were at least partially dressed when they came to the garage. They’re all covered except for Time’s torso, presumably because he couldn’t get his hands through the sleeves of his shirts with his hands bound together as they are. But despite the skin showing Four can at least be happy he’s not being flashed; he doesn't really want to see if Wars's approximate measurements of Time's equipment are accurate or not.
He's already having a hard enough time seeing the reddened lines along his landlord's back and chest.
And the ones around his neck.
Four can’t stop his brain from building a mental picture.
Goddess release me from this hell-
The cuffs are padded, but thick. The lock is no good. Something inside the mechanism must have eroded, so trying to pick it would be a waste. He’ll have to cut through it. Thankfully he has a metal saw on hand. But he won’t be able to do it safely without stabilizing the cuff.
“I can cut through this but I need to clamp you to the workbench,” Four tells Time, avoiding eye contact, “I can clamp around the cuffs though, so you won’t feel any pressure. I just need to make sure you won’t move around so I don’t cut you.”
Time exhales slowly and Four can feel the heat of his stare. He starts sweating, like he's being hit directly with the heat of the sun. Time doesn’t verbalize his permission, but he does slowly move his captured hands over to the crank clamp.
Apparently, Time handles embarrassment as well as Wind handles no-wifi.
Poorly.
“That’s fine darling,” Malon cuts in, rubbing Time’s back to make him ease up. “You do what you have to. And don't worry about tying him down. Nothing new there, sweet pea.”
She clearly means to break the tension with a joke. But she's also clearly way too used to talking to Wild or Warriors or anyone else Time's shared a bed with.
Four is a completely different ballgame.
He can tell by the way Time's stare goes supernova in both intensity and heat. Four's surprised he doesn't spontaneously combust under the pressure.
He clamps Time down and starts sawing before Malon ends up writing his eulogy.
The sound of sawing metal is loud enough to discourage any more speaking. Four cuts slowly but carefully, easing up on the pressure as the cuffs thin out. Thankfully the metal isn't too thick so it only takes a few minutes to free Time. When the final cut is made and the cuffs come off, Time pulls his hands away. Malon closes the distance and rubs comfortingly at his wrists, easing the redness away with her thumbs.
Aftercare, Four’s brain supplies.
He works very hard not to brain himself on his own tool bench for that thought.
“Thank you so much darling,” Malon offers Four a hug as payment, which he accepts because he’s still trying to resist the urge to headdesk, “And I’m so sorry again. I wish I’d been at the ranch when this happened - then I’d have been able to cut him loose myself.”
“Really, it’s no problem.” Four lies as Time’s gaze threatens to burn a hole in him, “I’m just glad it wasn’t anything complicated, ma’am.”
Four gets another hug and a head pat for his troubles.
“You’re such a sweet thing,” Malon croons. She smiles sweetly at him. Almost sweetly enough to make Four forget that she’s Time’s dom.
Almost.
Oh god Malon doms the Old Man-
Those were whip marks-
Four strangles his intrusive thoughts again. One more intrusive thought and he’s going to put his own head through the damned wall. A cracked skull would be a small price to pay for peace of mind.
“C’mon dear,” Malon puts her hand on Time’s shoulder and leads them both towards the stairs, “Lets go get cleaned up properly.”
Time, still silent as stone, obediently follows until they hit the top of the stairs, at which point he pauses. Time lets Malon exit first, leaving the two men alone for the first time since the couple had arrived at the garage looking for something to cut Time free with.
Time turns and makes direct eye contact for the first time today.
It's like staring into the void.
“We won’t ever speak of this again.”
The garage door closes and Four is suddenly alone.
For a few minutes he just stands there and processes everything.
Then he packs away the saw and wipes up his workbench. He sweeps up the metal shavings and tosses the destroyed handcuffs into his scrap metal bin. Locks his toolbox and closes up shop.
He heads upstairs and looks up the nearest liquor store.
He's gonna need something hard.
Just like everyone else in this damned house-
He slams his head into the wall.