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“Yo, Quincy, y’busy?”
Quincy paused. He looked down, to where most of a Vesper 77 lay on the table in pieces. He looked pointedly at the little set of brushes and gun oil he’d set carefully to the side. Then he finally looked back up, eyebrow raised, at the Drifter.
“We jump outta bed to ask stupid questions today, cuz?”
“Only on Tuesdays,” Ardent said, though their quick wit was slightly delayed and she seemed to be looking through him, rather then at him. Quincy decided to refrain from mentioning it was Tuesday. “I need a favor.” Ardent added, as he was about to get back to it.
He leaned back, gun forgotten.
“Is that right?” Usually, he was the one weaseling favors out of them. But hell, if she was just gonna out and toss him a freebie- “n' how many does that bring you up to?”
Ardent blew a raspberry. “Bah, who knows. You game or not?”
“Not saying jack to shit until I know what I’m playing.” Quincy said, folding his arms. “As much as I like lordin’ all these IOUs over your head, ‘m not stupid n' you’re stallin’. Spill it.”
“I want to have sex.” Ardent said, with all the warning of a swift and sudden punch to the gut.
“Mate, you gotta know that’s not somethin’ you go ‘round asking for just like that,” Quincy said, after he’d recovered. “I dunno what sort of hustle you think I’m runnin-”
Ardent made a face. “What? No. I don’t want you to find me someone, I want to do it with you.”
Now both of Quincy’s eyebrows shot up.
Keep it cool.
“Why?”
“Amir told me you bring people back to the mall. For hook ups.”
Quincy sputtered. Now how in the hell did the speedster find out about that- ”We’re coming back to that later.” Quincy said, pointing a finger at him. “So what, that’s it then? Y’find out your man Quincy’s gettin’ prime action and you want a piece of it? Think real long n' hard ‘bout what you say next.”
“I don’t think you’re a piece of meat, Quincy.” Ardent replied, all haughty n' pissy-like. “You’re my friend. I trust you, especially since you clearly know what you’re doing and I—don’t.”
“So, y’looking for a teacher?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Quincy stared them down—though it was mostly for show. The ugly, uncomfortable feeling in his chest had gone lax.
“You gonna make things weird after?” he asked.
“Nah.”
“Really? Not even gonna fall in love with me or nothin’?”
“Quincy.”
“Just sayin’, you’re hurting my feelings, fam.” Quincy said, with a grin. “Eh. Fuck it. Yeah. Why not?” It’d been a while, and he didn’t usually go for—people he knew and had to keep knowing the next morning. But wasn’t this just the perfect time and place for bad decisions? “It’ll cost you.”
“A favor, yeah yeah.” Ardent said, so flippantly he thought about reaching across the table and smacking them upside the head. “Can we go? Now?”
Eager.
“Nah, fam. Got to finish cleanin’ this piece and I got a field report for his Maj.” Quincy lied. “Go scurry off. Do your future tings. I’ll come callin’ later.”
Ardent scowled, but Quincy just picked up his rag and got back to polishing the gun in front of him. After a minute, he heard their ticked off footsteps retreating and he pushed away from the table and stared up at the ceiling.
It was the smart choice. Let Ardent stew in it for a bit, give him some time to think about it or change his mind without making things disastrously awkward in the middle of…
Lua’s tits what had he gotten himself into.
—
The sun had set over the mall by the time Quincy decided to finally make his move. The rest of the Hex were occupying themselves post-supper, and no one asked him what he was up to as he made a beeline for their Drifter’s non-euclidean backroom—though he did catch the speedster peeking at him ‘round the corner of his arcade as he ascended the stairs two at a time.
One hop, skip, and stomach churning jump through a horrible, whispering gateway landed him in the backroom.
He found his Drifter with one of her meatsuits.
“Which one’s this then?” He asked, as way of greeting. It was strapped to the wall and partially deconstructed, but he could never tell the difference between the suits anyways—Ardent wore them all the same. Greens and blues with bits of yellow.
Ardent glanced at him over their shoulder, then did—something and the panels along the wall pulled the meatsuit in and out of sight in the span of a blink.
“That was Protea.” Ardent said. “I was in the middle of upgrading her.”
“Oh, need me to come back later?” Quincy asked, as he took a step closer.
Ardent turned to face him. There was a glint in his eyes—besides the Void light—that seemed to flicker dangerously in the artificial light.
“You know, playing hard to get isn’t a good look on you.” Ardent huffed.
“Oh yeah?” Quincy said with a smile.
He took another step toward them, then another. Ardent held his ground until she had no choice but to move with him—until their back was flush to the wall their meatsuit had just disappeared into. Felt fitting.
Quincy propped himself against the wall, resting his arm beside their head. “Y’like it direct?"
“Makes things easier.” Ardent replied. She’d managed to keep her voice steady, but their gaze bounced around like he couldn’t quite keep eye contact for more then a moment.
Her inhale came sharp and loud between them when Quincy leaned in, lips close to their ear.
“Take me to bed then.” He pulled back to catch their eye. “How’s that for direct?”
The trip upstairs was short and a little sad. Quincy had to hide his grimace as Ardent all but dragged him to their bed, which amounted to little more then a mattress, some rough looking blankets, and a stiff throw pillow from the posh Entrati furniture a room over. He’d have to pull some strings to get her something more comfortable then that… for a price.
Obviously.
Ardent started to yank her shirt over her head, but Quincy caught them by the arms.
“Easy, cool it down there, cuz, we ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He said, much to their visible annoyance. “Y’mentioned wanting pointers, but how much experience we talkin’ about here?”
Ardent see-sawed a hand. “Somewhere between zero and negative zero.”
“Mate.”
“What?”
“Nothing?” He said, with a disbelieving laugh. Bad move, that. He could feel Ardent tense up like an angry cat. But still he doubled down. “Didn’t they teach you anything in that fancy spaceship of yours?”
“Oh, sorry, I must have missed the sex-ed course while the fancy spaceship was falling into the fucking Void.” Ardent bristled. “That’s on me.”
Quincy grimaced. Right, space trauma.
“n' what about after-?”
“In Duviri? Or further after, on the run during a war?” Ardent said, “Or even further and—ope, look at that, here we are.”
“Right.” Quincy said. “So, it's all gotta happen now.”
“Yeah.” Ardent said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just like Amir, always got ants in his pants when he lied. “Sol damnit Quincy, are you gonna help me or not?”
Not just eager then—desperate. Not the type Quincy would go for, not to mention they were hiding something. But he couldn't help but understand. It made it easier to ignore the little voice that whispered to slow it down, to make it special.
“Hey, ‘m still here, aren’t I?” He said, tilting his head to try and catch their eye. When that didn’t work, he put what he hoped was a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “Didn’t mean to come off like a prick. Just needed to know what I’m working with, baby.”
Ardent blinked. “Baby?”
“It’s called settin’ the mood, keep up now.” Quincy said, slapping their shoulder roughly before turning back to their terrible bed. “Why don’t you come over here n' get those clothes off, eh?”
Ardent worked her jaw for a moment, clearly off-kilter. But to his credit, he bounced back and began stripping with a military efficiency that would have put even his Maj to shame.
There wasn’t a lick of sensuality to it, just the pull and tug of shirts over head and buckles being undone, but they kept their gaze trained on him as they did it—which was in and of itself intimate in an almost uncomfortable fashion. Ardent carried an intensity with her in every aspect of what she did, and being the sole focus of it was daunting, to say the least.
Quincy tried to hide it by undressing himself, albeit slower.
He still watched—utilitarian or not, he wasn’t gonna miss a show.
She had the stature of a soldier. Well muscled arms and thighs. Nothing ripplin’ like a cheap bodice ripper, but strong. Flat chested. Broad shouldered. Typical stuff.
But just like a soldier, each layer they peeled back revealed a canvas of trauma. It wasn’t scars—or maybe, it had been, but the Void that clung to their skin had twisted the flesh into something new. It was everywhere, spread like the techrot on his own skin, sparing them everything just above the throat. It shone on their skin like an oil slick.
For a moment, he was almost convinced it… moved.
He must have made a noise, because Ardent went all prickly and tense like she did when she knew he didn’t fancy her garms.
“What.” Ardent said.
“Nuthin’.” Quincy said, “Just thought it was funny you’re just as hacked up n' cobbled together as the rest of the circus.”
Ardent glowered at him, but the tension in their shoulders relaxed by a fraction. Not completely gone. Probably wouldn't, not while they were starkers in front of him.
“C’mere,” Quincy cooed, before the anxiety could rush right back in. He patted his lap, invitingly. “Sit.”
Ardent approached gingerly, like he might bite—fair—but there was a practiced ease in the way they threw a leg over his lap. He let her settle in, surreptitiously gauging if there was an opening for him to sneak a peek down at them without drawing too much attention to what he was doing.
Ardent made it easy for him by immediately looking down at his dick.
Fair’s fair. Quincy looked too.
She was cute. Small, even if he wasn't comparing it to his own—which he was, mind. They were already chubbing up. Rosy head peeking from their foreskin, where a pretty silver barbell piercing glistened, all but begging to be tugged on.
He felt Ardent tilt his head to the side. “Oh,” they said, in a perfectly neutral tone of voice.
“Hey, y'know size-”
“I thought you'd be more interesting.”
Quincy cut himself off so violently he nearly bit his own tongue.
“Wh-the fuck you mean?! My dick ain't interestin’ enough for you?” Quincy hissed. He kept looking down. Not interesting? Not interesting? He was plenty interesting.
Ardent was shaking with silent laughter. He kind of wanted to toss them.
“Oh, Sol–I just expected-” Ardent gasped, struggling to find words while Quincy went through a crisis. “I dunno! Techrot… enhancements?”
“Enhancements?”
“I dunno, ridges? Or-”
“‘m not a bloody sex toy!”
"Well, my frames-”
“Nope!” Quincy clapped a hand over Ardent's mouth. “Shut it. Absolutely not. No one wants to know about that, you nasty little space freak.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Right. Lesson one, don't go insulting the guy who's having you off's dick.”
Ardent mumbled against his hand. He removed it.
“It wasn't an insult-” Quincy went to slap his hand back over their mouth but she dodged, and then very quickly amended- “Alright- alright! Sorry, jeez.”
“Don't sound very sorry.” Quincy grumbled.
“Your dick is very nice.” Ardent said, consolingly.
“Psh, better than nice.” Quinch scoffed.
“Want me to kiss it better?”
Quincy briefly entertained the thought, if only to imagine Ardent trapped between his thighs. Sweat slicked and teary-eyed, choking with his cock shoved down her pretty throat. It would be a much better use for their mouth.
“Maybe later,” he said.
“So, then do I-?” Ardent made a truly unfortunate hand gesture that kicked a laugh from Quincy's chest.
“Like that? Hells no.” Quincy snorted. “‘sides, you gotta work up to it.”
Her head tilted to the side like a curious dog. “How?” he asked.
“Watch n’ learn.”
Ardent jerked in surprise when his hands slid up the backs of their thighs, pausing for a cheeky grope at her backside, then settled in around their waist.
“What are you-”
Cut off by a gasp as Quincy used his newfound grip to pull them in. Their hands fluttered between them for a moment, before they looped around his shoulders. Fast learner.
Quincy ducked his head, leaning in to mouth along her Void-spun collarbone. He shivered delightfully at Quincy's touch. Leaned right into it like he was starving for it.
Quincy trailed his way up to their throat, tonguing over the racing pulse he felt under their skin. He didn't leave a mark. But he wanted to. He kissed their jaw, their ear, over their cheekbones and-
Ardent tilted her face to the side. “Not-” a pause to breathe through heaving lungs. “Not on the mouth. Please.”
Quincy stopped. Ardent's eyes flicked to look at him, then down at his lips.
“Saving it for someone special, are you?” Quincy asked, his voice a low rasp. They were breathing the same air. Close enough–almost.
Those Void darkened eyes widened, fractionally. If he hadn't been so close, he wouldn't have been able to tell. A weak point in her armor.
“Oh,” Quincy said. “Bingo.”
Ardent made a face.
“Shut up,” he snipped.
“Is that why-”
“I said,” Ardent hissed, rolling their hips into Quincy's in a clear attempt at a distraction. “Shuddup.”
Quincy laughed, though it was a little strained. Inexperienced or not, it felt good.
“Point taken, no need to go for the kill, fam.” Quincy stilled them. He liked that—his hands in contrast to the corruption staining her hips. He liked the way she squirmed in his hold, too. “Lemme show you how it's done.”
“Wish you would–agh!”
Quincy rolled their cute little barbel between his fingers again, just to draw out another noise from deep within their chest. Shocked out, probably. She jerked with it, like he'd tased her.
“Prick.” Ardent wheezed.
“Y'love it.” Quincy cooed. “Now, lesson one is handies.”
Mercifully, he left their piercing alone in favor of testing a theory—yep, he could cradle their whole kit in his one hand. Something in his brain ran around hootin’ and hollerin' at that. He had to reign it back in.
Another unsure noise when he massaged fingers over her balls. Hips not quite bucking, but stuttering into his touch.
“Don't go neglecting nothing,” he said, lowly. “Spread the love, see?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Good.” Quincy said.
There was an unmistakable shiver brought on by just that word, bringing with it pearly precum slicking up the head of their cock. He was moving properly against Quincy now, awkward little hip thrusts into his waiting hand. Every so often, their cock bumped into his and sent a jolt through his techrot infused body.
“Y'have had a wank before right?”
“Not often, but yeah.” Ardent admitted, after a stuttering pause.
Quincy contained a wince. Right. Probably not a lot of time to jerk it with her whole—everything going on. Should have known that.
“Still, you know the basics. Let's test ‘em out. Use your hand—not that one. Left.” Quincy added, sharply. He didn't know what happened to their right hand, but it was enough of a horrorshow that he didn't want it anywhere near his crown and jewels, thanks.
Ardent complied without comment. Good to know they were less of a brat with a hand around their cock.
“Start slow, get a feel for it, yeah?” Quincy said, voice wavering at the first up and down, clumsy stroke of her fingers. “Then go from there. Simple.”
“Simple.” Ardent echoed. "Isn't there more to it then just this?"
Quincy snorted. “Like you'd know?” He dodged a swat aimed for his head. “Sure there is, but y'gonna have to cash in ‘nother favor for lesson two.”
Ardent shot him a betrayed look. “That wasn't part of the deal.”
“Keep movin’ your hand—yeah, like that—think if we was to review the tapes, all you said was you wanted teachin’. Which,” Quincy gestured grandiosely down, to where Ardent's hand kept flagging.
Ardent pouted, though it was clear they were trying not to. Quincy was unaffected. He was a businessman.
“Chin up, pet.” Quincy said, “‘n pick up the pace, yeah? Y'ain't gettin' no one off with that technique.”
Ardent huffed out a frustrated sound, which unfortunately went straight to Quincy's cock. He was throbbing in her hand, rearing to go, and—Sol damnit—he really liked how that looked. What he'd give for a camera.
He let them work. No better learning then on the fly, and she was an attentive student–though it was still intimidating to be the sole focus of that eerie, Void-shot gaze.
Every time he so much as twitched or grunted softly through his nose, he could feel the reaction being carefully catalogued. Then they changed tactics. Rinse ‘n repeat.
“Would he…” Ardent mumbled, as his hand moved with a slick, obscene sound between them.
Quincy said nothing. It wasn't like he wasn't curious. But he wasn't stupid. If he asked, Ardent would tell him who “he” was, he was sure of it. Then he'd have a memory of this sweet thing in his lap—knowing exactly who they were actually thinking about.
It was whatever. A favor was a favor, and it was worth its weight in gold to Quincy.
Plus, whoever “he” was, it was Quincy that Ardent came to first.
That had him bucking up into Ardent's hand, almost throwing them right out of his lap.
“Have I passed lesson one yet?” Ardent asked.
“Psh, you wish.” Quincy huffed. A little distracted by the now constant wet slide of her hand. “Lemme show you how a professional works.”
“Yeah, I bet you're a professional wank–hah, oh fuck-”
Ardent arched into him eagerly, head thumping down on his shoulder. He wondered if they were watching his hand work them over–chasing the feeling but never quite gaining a sense for the rhythm as he gave them a taste of their own medicine.
Teasing only lasted until the first honest to gods’ moan tripped from her lips. It was like music to his ears.
“That's it, baby.” Quincy cooed into their sweat damp hair. “Let Quincy-K take care of you.”
They mumbled unintelligibly against his neck. Dazed. The more Ardent came apart, the more distracted their hand on him became. To compensate, Quincy batted their limp hand out of the way and his next stroke was for both of them.
Ardent hissed. Their fingers were scrambling at his back, little Void-spurred talons digging into infested musculature. She was fucking herself into his fist now, breath sweet and gasping in his ear.
“Fuck, Quincy.”
He sounded drunk. Quincy quickened the pace.
“That's it, say my name.” Quincy said into their throat, pressing little kisses to their jumping pulse. Teeth scraping. “Next time I'll get you singin’ for me.”
"Quincy!" Ardent whined.
The hint of urgency brought their skin between his teeth with bruising force. Fuck it. Fuck it all, he didn't give a damn about manners, not when Ardent immediately seized up and came all over his hand.
Their sharp fingers dug in. Maybe it drew blood. He wasn't sure. He was too busy muffling his groan into their sweat slicked skin as he followed them right on their heels over the edge.
Quincy came down first, pulling away from Ardent's throat with a wince but no small measure of pleasure to see an angry bruise already purpling amongst the Void scarring.
The mess between them was cooling unpleasantly on his hand. He shifted around, looking for some conveniently placed tissues. When none presented themselves, he started to ask Ardent.
Who was still breathing long and hard into his shoulder.
“...Ardey?” Quincy tried, carefully.
He braced himself for a crash. Wouldn't be the first time, it was always the confident ones-
Then he jumped as a sudden shock of wetness swept over his neck from collar to jawline—Ardent had licked him.
“Huh,” Ardent said, thoughtfully, before he could even process fully what she'd done. “You taste different from my warframes.”
Quincy stared at him for a long, long pause. Then he shoved them hard. Ardent clamped her thighs around him and they went sideways. A sticky, messy tussle ensued.
“You,” Quincy growled, narrowly avoiding a pointy elbow to the gut. “Utter space freak.”
Ardent, who managed to reign supreme atop him in the end, primly tilted her chin downward at him.
“You love it.” Ardent snarked back, sticking out his tongue.
Quincy shoved them to the floor.
But then he helped drag them back to her feet, huffing and puffing and making a right show of how weird he thought they were as he hauled their ass to the toilets to get cleaned up. He drew them back in and tousled their sweaty hair.
Yeah, he did.
Whatever.