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"Uhuh, and the part where it concerns me is..?"
"Well uh... you see-"
"We're moving along now."
God fucking dammit, Hyperlaser.
Subspace stared in disbelief at the mercenary that was standing up from the table. A mercenary that just turned him down for small talk. God, he's been told he's not exactly the most delightful to be around, but now he feels like he's been blast-chilled down to a new negative, which is mad coming from a Blackrockian.
You can sue Subspace for being so helplessly understimulated to the point of even trying to talk to anyone, Hyperlaser for that matter. But his brain has felt like it's been stretched on a rack, pinned down like an insect display, and left to dry.
Yes, his migraines do infact get that bad without his painkillers.
Biograft #183 was tasked to restock the relievers, and would have been successful if not for the fact it reported back beat up and robbed. He's going to personally flay the motherfucker responsible for this, painfully slow.
"You were just about to stay actually," is what came out from the hundreds of words in the scientist's head. He's decided that he was gonna have one thing go his way, no matter the cost.
At the last syllable that left him — Hyperlaser seemed to have stopped in his tracks, and without a word, turned to face him. His back was straight, head facing forward, and hands relaxed at the sides, he seemed to be staring blankly through the pink individual, but there's not much to read when the helmet covers his face.
And what was on Subspace's face was observation.
This is the first time he's used the technology on Hyperlaser, bugged in his helmet. Mind control, one of the average models of it. Temporary, meant for short services. It was pure impulse to activate it, and now Subspace can't help but wonder what the fuck was he actually planning to do now that he has the mercenary supposedly where he needs him.
The scientist stands up to approach him, head tilted upwards to find just the glint of his reflection back from the taller's visor. "Look at me."
Hyperlaser's head tilted downwards to meet his gaze, still silent. The scientist pities him, he thinks he can act out of line infront of him, and Subspace was left with no choice. He didn't want to do this.
Oh who is he kidding, he's wanted this for a good fucking while now.
He's finding himself losing the staring contest against the puppet mercenary he's endeared by. So he throws his head back in a sigh, walking away from the blue individual.
"Goddammit..." He grumbled under his breath, brisk pacing around the small break room they were in. Hyperlaser turns to watch him until Subspace gives him an order, not even turning to look at him. "Lock the door."
'A pathetic man in his pathetic world,' that's the thought that Subspace lives in, and it's the cloud in his head that pours as he hesitantly fumbles with the belt of his pants, taking them off with his shoes, as he listens to the clicks of metal coming from the door.
He's doing this, he's actually doing this.
The scientist looks up again to see the mercenary that stares at Subspace from the taller's side of the room. "Come here," is what Subspace can muster while avoiding his face, looking down again to take off the belt and push down his pants as he hears the heavy footsteps that approach him.
The cold air comes to meet the pink individual's thighs, which he would focus on immediately if he didn't spot Hyperlaser's legs coming into view next to him as he looked downward. A heat resonated from the mercenary, not enough to replace the warmth he just lost without his pants on, however.
Fuck, he thinks this is stupid. His dick is starting to fill out from inside his boxers. He listens to the Hyperlaser's calm breathing and it drives him fucking mad, the way he just stands there taking in the sight of the shorter, waiting for an order.
He hates how he's suddenly aware of what he's doing. If it was anyone else Subspace would give two shits about who he's mindfucking, but it's Hyperlaser.
"Jerk me off," he says after the hesitation he thinks he's entitled to have, it comes out colder than he expects.
Subspace sinks his back into the counter, as if he could escape what he chose to come, his hands bracing as Hyperlaser starts to move. Nothing could've stopped the whine that escaped him as the gloved fingers slowly slide his boxers downward. His hard cock springs out, already leaking small amounts of precum. The mercenary wastes no time wrapping his hand around the girth, slowly- oh fuck oh fuck dammit.
"Fuck... remove your gloves, dipshit." The words laced themselves with venom naturally, as he swatted his hand away from his dick.
"I am sorry." Hyperlaser finally speaks as he works his hands to take off his right hand glove, the scientist wishes he didn't say that, it makes him feel worse.
The taller puts down his unused glove on the counter Subspace braces himself on. Just as he's about to reach for the pink individual's dick again, Subspace grabs his hand and brings it to his face. The shorter finally gains the courage to exchange a stare at each other, before lowering his gas mask and spitting on Hyperlaser's palm.
oh fuck- The mercenary reaches down and starts at a slow pace, pumping the pink individual's cock just as ordered.
The feel of Hyperlaser's blistered skin on him threatens to drive his sanity away. Subspace throws his head back in a groan, his hips bucking into the taller's hand.
"God, fuck, hrg... lean closer, Hyper."
Subspace wraps his arm around Hyperlaser's neck as support — his elbow coming to rest on his shoulder as the blue individual leans in. The scientist listens to the wet squelches made from the friction from his dick and the hand. He sinks slightly lower as he tries to thrust his hips to fuck himself harder into the mercenary's hand.
He feels like he should, fuck, say something to the puppet, praise, insults, anything, but he arrives to no avail, nothing good to say to the mindless mercenary. He settles on one thing. "...Faster."
Shit, shit, shit-
Subspace bites off more he can chew, as Hyperlaser pumps his cock at a swift pace. He lets out a moan as it happens, his hips now still but bucked. He throws his head back, listening to the wet sounds, listening to Hyperlaser's breathing, the whirl of the fan, avoiding everything with his eyes as they stare up.
What grounds him is the sensation that hes gonna cum at this rate.
He stares at Hyperlaser — his eyes are glued and focused on jerking off his dick, like it's the only thing that matters, the one purpose he's dedicated to. Fuck, that's hot. Subspace moves his arm, letting go of the brace hes wrapped around his neck. With his new free arm trying to reach down towards the mercenary's crotch. What catches his eye is the way the taller has his feet planted onto the ground with stern certainty, his stance causes his legs to be slightly spread apart, his thighs also appears to have slightly thickness through his pants upclose.
Taking in the sight of the mercenary clearly does not help the problem of how hot his body feels. Fuck, he's gonna cum.
He starts to reach down with his hand, trying to find the fly zipper on Hyperlaser's pants, but the layers the blue individual wears make it difficult to access it.
"hhgrh... Shit, open your trenchcoat." Instead of letting go of Subspace's dick, Hyperlaser uses his other hand to fumble with the buttons, jerking the scientist off at the same time. Subspace finds himself pleasantly surprised, and also turned on at the simple act of mindless multitasking. He groans.
His hands come to rest on the taller's crotch, waiting until... god fuck— waiting until access area is opened, watching as he fumbles with his own buttons with one handand getting his hand utterly fucked into. He imagines all the other things he could make Hyperlaser multitask, he could do paperwork while thrusting into Subspace's mouth under the table, oh god, he could makeout and mouthfuck him as he gives him another handjob, if only he could take the helmet off, but he would wake up immediately. Shit shit, he could picture the mercenary fucking him from the back, oh fuck, his own face buried in the ground as the he lays his sniper on Subspace's back, please— using him like the... fuck, like the mutt he is, fuck, oh yeah, please please fuck fuck fuck his life, shit—
His eyes threaten to roll back into his skull as the world washes itself in white. He's absolutely gone.
"Fuck!" The scientist continues to pulse and shoot out his cum all over the taller's hand, which is still continuing to pump on his dick. In other news, the mercenary's hand comes to rest on his side as his trenchcoat opens up.
He finds his dick getting lathered in his own cum as Hyperlaser continues to jerk him off. "s-Stop... fuck, stop."
Only then did the blue individual halt his movement.
Good for him, he's finally done it. He's fucked into the hand of his contractee, the clarity threatens to wash over him. In fact it's probably kicking in now. He swats the hand away from his dick for a second time, making the man's hand retreat.
....
Fuck it, he wants to live on the high just a little longer.
Earlier, he hesitated to reach for the taller's crotch, but now he wastes no time. With the trenchcoat open, he easily accesses the fly on Hyperlaser's pants, he sacrifices the comfort of leaning on the counter, working both hands and even bending his knees to unbuckle the mercenary's belt — followed by the unzipping. The mercenary in question merely just looks down to watch it happen, his hands relaxed at the sides, his stance normal.
What greets him is the bulge in the blue individual's red boxers that peek through the unzipped fly of his pants, radiating heat as he cups it, and a musky scent. Subspace is able to shift the underwear downwards from the outside, he then digs into the heat, and fishes out Hyperlaser's dick, soft, it's been soft this whole time. Of course it has, the scientist could never have been the apple of his eye to brick him up, even in this state.
The unforgiving chills of Blackrock adds insult to injury to the long shameful silences the shorter shares with his puppet. He's never been so unsure of what to do, and it's all because his victim is someone he's actually taken an effort to know.
"...Get hard."
With that, Hyperlaser's cock filled out immediately and quickly — standing at nearly full length right infront of Subspace's face before he could even process it. The scientist spat in his barehand before stroking the fat dick to a painfully hard peak. It was huge, it made his hand look small as he lubed it up with spit.
"Hrgh..." The mercenary let out a shaky breath, not from an order but from the body's nature.
The pink individual gripped the blue's girth harder, adding more spit, and forcing pre to come out, swirling his thumb on the tip. From the corner of his eye he could've sword he saw the taller's arms, hands, and fingers twitch, but now they seem to make small swings idly not resting and holding onto the sides.
The shorter finally stands up, unsure of if he wants to face towards or away from him as he does this. No matter, he can change positions midfuck.
Subspace turns away from him, bending down and letting his entrance line up — once he feels the tip press against his tight ring of muscle, he takes a deep breath.
"Start thrusting, Hyperlaser." And what he should've felt was the penetration, the mercenary's huge cock invading his body like it owes him money. But he pulls away, when the shorter already worked so hard to line them up properly. Instead he feels Hyperlaser's strong and violent grip on his torso, his fingers threatening to draw blood with how deep they run on his body.
Shit, what's happening?
The taller starts to drag the both of them off the counter, until they arrive at the break room table they just talked over. He feels a gloved hand grab the back of his head, and a bare hand on his right shoulder. He gets bent down over the-
Fuck fuck fuck oh there it is.
The taller starts with one big thrust, slowly sliding down his length. The pink individual can't help but ball his hands into a fist, he curses loudly at the sudden penetration — the sensation of being filled out. The man behind him eventually reaches balls deep into him. Where the mercenary lets out a low hum where it's heard.
Hyperlaser slowly pulls out until the head is the only thing that's left in, before pushing forward again, still slowly, but the girth threatens to make him pass out. "Fuck!"
With the full length inside him again, he can only feel his stomach rise from it. Unable to look under him with the blue individual's hand forcing his head to face forward. The mercenary moves at a snail's pace, which Subspace is grateful for, giving him time to adjust before speeding up.
After a minute or two he scientist hears a shiver in Hyperlaser's voice again — the way his body desperately wants to move faster, but his puppet mind wont let him. The idea of it goes straight to his own unattended dick.
"Harder." If the scientist himself wasn't so desperately cock-crazed and pathetic, he would let this go on for as long as he wants, maybe even make the taller beg for it. But as the man behind him picks up the pace, slamming his fat dick faster and harder, making the table shake, and making the scientist dizzy — he's never felt so out of control even as a puppeteer.
"Hhh... yeah...yyyeah.. yeahh."
He almost couldn't hear it, but as the lights seem to brighten and dim, the mercenary lets out his own quiet grunts and moans through the voice filter in his helmet. Subspace gets a headache, when he seemed to be doing all this to forget about his migranes. The fists his hands are balled into tighten if that's somehow possible, his nails almost cut into the flesh of his palms.
He wants to tell Hyperlaser to shut up, to fuck him stupid in silence, to make him apologize for even uttering his sounds of pleasure, to deny himself anything, to make him suffer for his own enjoyment, to call him a piece of shit. But the scientist merely just lies and takes it like a bitch, he tells the man to move a little faster — which he obliges immediately.
"Fuck... flip me over." Subspace makes an order.
The taller lets go of his head and his shoulder, moving his hands down to his waist and hips. He uses his strength to follow his command, he uses a hand on the oblique to turn him over, even grabbing his thighs in an attempt to lift his legs as to not get in the way. The pink's breath hitches as the movements feel forced coming from cold strong hands, the mercenary doesn't even bother pulling out his cock before turning him.
As the shorter gets flipped over, Hyperlaser can feel the tension and movements from Subspace's ass. His dick kept in almost feels like its threatened to get twisted from the friction of the flip, he bucks his hips as it happens, sneaking in a shallow thrust and a groan.
And were back, blue clashing against pink, in that same punishing rhythm that he asked for. He doesn't know where to put his legs. Bent backwards? Not flexible enough. On Hyperlaser's shoulders? No.
He can't stop the sounds that escape him, he eventually decides to let his legs rest down off the table, spread wide with a man in-between them.
Fuck.
He's losing it, his head feels dizzy, the colors around feel more vibrant. He hears the mercenary's hitched breaths and groans, the mercenary's hands gripping his hips possessively, as he starts to stroke his own dick, trying to match the rhythm.
"No..." He let's a hic and a short breath out, trying to start over. "No hands, Hyper."
The taller lets go of his hips, leaving behind the cold, and an imprint he'll never forget. Hyperlaser raises his hands up, elbows bent and palms forward as he lets his own hips buck forward and thrust independently. He doesn't retort against this position, he never does. Subspace wants to pass out.
In his own sights is a man who only needs his hips to brutally fuck into him, he strokes his own cock faster, his own cum from earlier acting as a practical lube.
"Tell me I'm tight."
"You're tight." The mercenary responds immediately, cold and blank.
"I am?"
"You're so tight."
He wants to kill himself.
"Swear on it."
"You're so fucking tight."
Hyperlaser comes to align his hands to his own antennae, almost putting his hands to the back of his head but not quite. Subspace can sense his own release again, but he can also feel the taller's thrusts become more erratic and primal.
"Tell me you feel good."
"I feel... good." The response comes out breathy, a hitch.
"Tell me you're enjoying this."
"I'm enjoying this."
A groan, he's not sure from who.
"Tell me that I satisfy you."
He hesitated to say that.
"You satisfy me." He didn't.
He can feel Hyperlaser slowing down. His breaths louder, a moan that feels less restraint. For a moment, everything feels so simple, and so good. There's a man infront of him, his hands raised, his big dick inside him. He feels good, he feels great, life feels worth living.
"...Tell me you love me."
"I love you." The response came so quickly he doesn't feel the truth behind it.
"Again."
"I love you."
"...Again." Is there a truth he's looking for? He knows damn well.
"I love you."
"Fuck... fuck, again."
Life could be worth living.
And then it comes, the mercenary buries himself deep into Subspace. White release flooding in, he throws his head back, his hands disobedient to grab the scientist's hips. "Hrhhgh! I love you..."
"Fuck!" He curses to the cruel deities. He cums a second time, the white ropes landing on his own clothing. He pants as if he's been suffocated his entire life, his dick throbs as he hears the blue individual's words, breathy and tired as if they escaped him.
Hyperlaser collapses onto him, his own warmth enveloping him, it delays the clarity, his arms fall loosely around him. Yes, yes, it's good, the heat, it feels loving. He could be loved.
...
"Fuck off now."
And for the second time he watches the mercenary stand up from the table in disbelief, he tucks his large softening dick away, closing up his pants and his trenchcoat — approaching the counter to retrieve his own glove. Putting it on as he approaches the door, the blue fades from the room into nothing. One person stays, and he lets the silence devour him into nothing at all.