Chapter Text
The static hum of Tenna’s body was louder than usual, a restless fizz that buzzed against your skin as you sat perched across his lap. His screen-face flared with shifting colors, a restless storm of neon and snow, even though you hadn’t even pulled his clothes aside yet. Your hand moved lazily between his legs, cupping, teasing, fingers brushing just enough to draw out a stutter of white noise in his throat.
“Oh, bravo!” he crooned, voice layered with sarcasm as his head tipped back, screen flashing a dramatic theater mask. “After the utter chaos of today I was forced to endure - and this is how you comfort me? Keeping me waiting?” He flung one arm over his forehead like he was swooning on stage, even as his hips twitched upward against your touch. “You must hate me!”
You rolled your eyes, dragging your palm a little firmer along the outline of his length. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Debatable!” His voice spiked into a burst of static. “You’ve got your poor star, your main attraction, sitting here fully clothed, and what do you do? You -” his screen fuzzed, light pulsing as your fingers squeezed tighter, “- you torment him like some cruel stagehand out for revenge!”
A slow grin tugged at your lips. “Or maybe I just like seeing the ‘great Tenna’ squirm, hmm?”
His whole body jolted with static at that, hands clutching at your hips as his screen sputtered, caught between a cocky smirk and glitchy distortion. “Squirm?! I - I do not squirm! Stars do not squirm!”
You leaned in, brushing your mouth close to where his ear might’ve been beneath the glow. “Wanna bet?”
Your hand lingered where he wanted it most, the heat of him swelling under your palm as the static in his chest spiked with every twitch of your fingers. But the other hand drifted upward, skimming across the jagged surface of his vest, over the rise and fall of his chest. He was still talking big, voice smooth and sharp-edged, but you could feel the way his body betrayed him, each word making his chest stutter against your palm.
“Sure,” he drawled, leaning back against the chair as if he had any control left. “After the mess of a day I’ve had, naturally the universe thinks I should be kept waiting. Why not? The star of the show, left hanging like some… side act.” His screen flickered, betraying him with a burst of static as your hand squeezed tighter. “Cruel, really.”
Your thumb traced an idle circle across the planes of his chest. “Cruel? I thought you liked a little suspense.”
He tilted his head, pixels sharpening into a half-smirk. “Suspense is one thing. Teasing your leading man until his circuitry fries? That’s a whole other genre.”
You cut him off with a slow sweep upward, slipping your hand along the wires at his neck. His words glitched mid-sentence, voice skipping with a sharp burst of static. “Nnnkk-! Hhh - ahh - you - that’s -” His screen flashed and stuttered, cutting off his sarcasm with a strained gasp.
A sly smile curved against your lips as you dragged your fingers over the cords again, delighting in how his hips jerked beneath you. “What’s the matter? Don’t like that?”
His hands tightened at your waist, trembling, his voice dropping into a low growl. “Like it? …Don’t flatter yourself. You just got lucky. Happens to hit the right spot, that’s all.”
And then your fingers brushed over something you hadn’t noticed before, nestled against the base of his neck. A small dial, ridged under your touch, almost hidden beneath the tangled wires. You paused, curiosity lighting up in your chest. “...What’s this?” you murmured, fingertips teasing its edge.
The static in his chest spiked to a frantic buzz, his screen flashing a warning glare. “Th-that? Nothing. Forget it. Some… maintenance junk. Not important.” His tone tried to stay flat, but the stammer betrayed him.
Your grin widened as your thumb hovered over the dial. “Not important, huh? Then you won’t mind if I -” Your fingers traced slow, curious patterns over the dial, barely brushing the ridges, dragging your touch along it as though it were just another one of his weak spots. The static in his chest climbed in pitch, his breath glitching between words.
“Easy,” he rasped, screen glitching bright and dark. “That’s… delicate equipment you’re messing with.”
Your smile widened. “Funny. Feels a lot like you.” You let your thumb graze it again, feather-light, while your other hand slid down to his belt, working at the buckle with a deliberate slowness. The tension in his chest buzzed louder, his hips shifting restlessly beneath you.
But before you could get very far, his hands shot down to yours, seizing control of the belt with an abrupt, almost frantic force. The clink of metal rang out sharp as he yanked the strap loose, fumbling with the button and zipper until he shoved his pants open and freed himself with a sharp hiss of static.
You blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden urgency. The smirk flickering across his screen looked almost smug, but his trembling hands betrayed him.
“What?” he snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm as he glanced at your startled expression. “You were taking too long. Someone had to do it.” The excuse didn’t quite mask the static fuzzing around the edges of his voice, or the way his chest heaved beneath your hand.
Freed from his clothes, his length sprang against his stomach, thick and flushed, the tip already shining with a bead of slick. The sight alone made your breath hitch, but what drew you in even more was the sound - the crackle of static rolling out of his chest, the sharp intake of breath he tried to disguise as a scoff.
You reached down, swiping your thumb across the droplet before smearing it lazily over his tip. His whole body jolted, a stutter of white noise sparking out of him as his hips twitched up against your hand.
“Ah - hhhnn - dammit, don’t -” His voice broke, failing to land on the biting edge he wanted.
You grinned, dragging your thumb over him again, slower this time. “Sensitive, are we?”
His screen flickered hot with static, as if he was trying to glare. “Sensitive? Tch. You’re just… cheap-shotting me, that’s all. Anyone would - hhkk - react.”
“Mhm. Then prove it,” you murmured, pulling your hand away and resting it against his chest instead. “Go on. Touch yourself.”
For a moment, silence. His screen went dark, glitching as though his whole system faltered. Then his head tilted, voice dropping into a grumble. “Oh, now you’re giving the orders? That’s my bit. I’m supposed to be barking at you, not the other way around.” But his hand wrapped around himself anyway, fingers curling tight as he began to stroke, each movement dragging a fresh wave of static through the air. His screen flickered, colors pulsing erratically as he worked himself under your watchful gaze.
And that was when your eyes caught on the dial again, nestled at the base of his neck, pulsing faintly with each shiver. A wicked thought stirred in your chest.
You brushed your fingers over it, feeling the hum vibrate under your touch - then, without warning, you gave it the smallest twist.
The instant your fingers twisted the dial, his screen went dark. His whole frame lurched beneath you, stuttering like a signal cut mid-broadcast. For one sharp second, there was nothing - no voice, no static, just silence.
Then his body jolted back online, a harsh crrkshh of static rattling out of his chest as the colors on his screen flared too bright, glitching into a white-hot buzz. An intense shiver tore through him, hips jerking helplessly under you, and for the first time he couldn’t quite mask the raw sound that broke out of him.
“Ghh - hhhnnn, the hell was that?!” His voice came sharp, but it was thinned out, frayed at the edges, and you could hear the pleasure threading through it no matter how hard he tried to bite it back. His hand had stilled around himself, knuckles white where he gripped, the thick length twitching with need.
You smirked, stroking the edge of the dial again with feather-light fingers. “What’s the matter, star? Don’t like my little… adjustment?”
His screen snapped to a glare, though the static fuzzing across it betrayed him. “Adjustment?! You nearly fried my system! Who does that when a guy’s -” His voice broke again, static swallowing the words, and his hips rolled involuntarily against his fist.
You leaned in close, voice low and teasing. “Sounds like you did like it.”
He sputtered, static crackling like a shorted wire. “Y-you’re hearing things.”
Your grin widened as you traced your fingers along his chest, right above where his hand still hovered at his cock. “Then keep going. Don’t stop touching yourself now.”
For a beat, he froze, screen fuzzing into a sharp line. He tried to muster a scoff, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You really don’t know your place, do you? Giving orders to the headliner like you’re -” But the words cracked, cut off by a shaky gasp as his hand obediently began to move again, pumping down his length with a strained rhythm. His screen flickered wildly, static filling the space between his grumbles.
Your hand slid down, curling around his fist where it worked his cock, your fingers barely spanning over his length. Against him, your grip felt almost laughably small, but the effect was immediate - his chest arched with a hiss of static, his screen flashing white.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone syrupy with mock-praise. “All this talk about being in charge, and here you are, stroking yourself because I told you to. Some headliner you are.”
His voice spiked, glitchy and defensive, though the ragged edges gave him away. “I-I let you - I’m humoring you, that’s all…”
“Mmhm. Sure you are.” You tightened your hand over his, guiding his rhythm faster. “Come on. Go faster for me. I’ll even help.”
A low, glitching growl tore out of him as his screen distorted between static and light. His hips jerked upward, pumping quicker under your control, his breath breaking into gasps he tried to smother with sarcasm.
“This is - hahh - ridiculous, you - you don’t know what you’re -” His words caught, his chest buzzing, voice strangled into something almost pleading. “S-stop - it’s… too much, I’m - I’m close, I -”
The moment the confession broke out, your fingers twisted the dial again.
His entire system cut out, screen black, body stuttering beneath you in a sharp, helpless spasm. For a split second, the silence was absolute - then he booted back up with a violent surge, static roaring from his chest, his whole frame shuddering as if struck by lightning. The sound he made this time was raw, punched out of him, pleasure too sharp for him to choke down. His hips bucked, cock twitching in his hand, his voice a broken mix of gasps.
“Hhhnn - wh-what the fuck was that?!” His screen flared back to life, flickering wildly. “You - nghhh - you can’t just d-do that -” But even as he tried to snap at you, his body trembled with aftershocks, and the heat in his voice betrayed the truth: it hadn’t just rattled him. It had lit him up.
You didn’t even give him the chance to recover. While his body still twitched with the aftershock of the last reboot, you twisted the dial again.
His screen cut out mid-breath, his chest stuttered, and his hand would have fallen away if not for your own wrapped firmly around it, forcing his strokes to continue even through the blackout. The motion was ragged, jerky, his cock twitching helplessly against both of your palms. Then the static surged back with a violent crack, his body rebooting so fast it barely felt like he’d been gone at all. His hips bucked upward, voice breaking on a strangled cry that bled into distortion.
And before he could even curse you, before he could get a single insult past his lips - click - dark again. His system cut mid-glitch, his frame trembling with the strain, but your hand never let him stop. He pumped through the blackout, cock leaking hot against your fingers, every forced stroke dragging him closer and closer to an edge you wouldn’t let him cross.
When he flickered back online the second time, his screen was a chaotic mess of static and color, words tangled with glitchy gasps. “Hhhk - ahhh, g-god, you - y-you’re - doing it on purp-” His voice warped into pure static, cut off by another sharp roll of his hips.
You slowed your hand at last, easing him back down, and for a moment you just looked at him - his chest heaving with static crackles, his cock flushed and dripping freely now, slick smearing across both of your hands.
“Wow,” you murmured, tone laced with mock surprise. “You’re really… leaking everywhere. Almost like you’re enjoying this.”
His screen flared bright red, his voice spitting with static as he tried to muster a retort. “I-I’m not… it’s… nghhh - you’re twisting things…” But the way his cock twitched in your grip, spilling another bead down over your thumb, betrayed him before he could finish.
Your thumb smoothed lazily over the head of his cock, smearing the fresh slick across the flushed tip, and you let out a low hum of appreciation. “Mmm, look at you… all that leaking, all this noise. You’ve really got the whole desperate act down, don’t you?”
His screen snapped to a glare, fuzzing red. “D-desperate? Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve carried entire shows with less -”
You silenced him with a slow squeeze, feeling the way he jolted under your hand. Your lips curved into a smirk. “You want to finish? You want to cum?”
Static crackled sharp in his chest, his voice glitching on the reply. “Tch, o-of course I -”
“Then say it.” Your voice dipped low, teasing. “Say please.”
For a beat, his screen froze, glitching between static and blank. “...Excuse me?”
“Say please,” you repeated, your hand tightening just enough to make him twitch. “You’re not getting it until I hear it.”
His laugh came strained, ragged at the edges. “Please? You expect me to - hahhh - beg? Cute. Real cute. But you forget - I’m the one who calls the shots here. You should be -”
You cut him off by wrapping your hand tighter around him and forcing his strokes faster, harder. The sound of slick filled the air, his cock surging against your combined grip, trembling with the effort of holding back. His chest buzzed hot, his static rising and breaking like an overloaded speaker.
You leaned in until your lips hovered just shy of his screen, close enough to feel the heat of his crackling static breath against your mouth. “This,” you whispered, pumping him ruthlessly, “is what happens if you don’t say please.”
And with a sharp twist of your fingers, you turned the dial a final time.
His screen blacked out instantly, body jerking beneath you in a violent spasm. The blackout dragged him under, his strokes never stopping thanks to your guiding grip, and when he booted back up, his cry was broken, raw, and full of need.
He rebooted with a sharp intake of breath, chest heaving like his whole system was overheating. His screen flickered, trying to form a scowl, but the corners kept twitching into something less composed. “Y-you think this proves something? Nghhh - hhahh - I could’ve stopped any time, you know. You’re just… lucky I’m humoring -”
Your fingers brushed the dial yet again, and the color on his screen snapped from red to pure white noise. His body went taut beneath you, his cock twitching violently in your grip as if it already knew what was coming.
“No-!” His voice cracked, distortion hissing at the edges. “D-don’t you - don’t…”
You twisted it just enough for the threat to land. He broke.
“Please!” The word ripped out of him in a desperate cry, his hips bucking upward helplessly. “P-please - don’t - don’t turn it again, I’ll… I’ll do anything - just let me - please, please, please -”
Your smirk widened, satisfaction curling low in your belly. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You loosened your hand, letting his own take over, pumping himself with frantic, almost violent urgency. You just laid your palm over his, guiding lightly, letting him chase his own release. His strokes went wild, desperate, his voice spilling over in broken static and fragmented words.
“Please - ahhhh - g-god, I need - need it! I’m - nnnnghhh - don’t stop, don’t -!”
The dam broke.
He jerked hard beneath you, static howling through his chest as his cock spilled hot across both your hands. Thick ropes smeared over your fingers, down the length of his shaft, dripping freely onto his stomach. His body convulsed with every pulse, screen flickering wildly as he whined, begged, cried out incoherent nonsense between every ragged breath.
You held him steady through it, your hand never leaving his, following the trembling movements until he finally slowed. His frame sagged back against the couch, static still crackling weakly in his chest, screen flickering with the aftermath. He was shaking, breathless, dripping with mess… and you were still smirking, satisfied, knowing you’d gotten him to beg for you.
For a long moment, the only sound was the soft hiss of static and the dripping patter of his release cooling against both your hands. His chest still rose and fell in uneven bursts, vents whining faintly as though his whole system was trying to cool itself down.
You finally leaned back, holding up your slicked fingers with a wicked grin. “Messy. You really lost control there, didn’t you?”
His screen flickered with a blush, lines crackling across as he tried to muster up a glare. “Tch - don’t flatter yourself. You… you cheated. Rigged the game. Nobody could keep composure with you yanking wires like that.”
You tilted your head, amused. “Funny. Sounded like begging to me.”
His static spiked sharp, screen flaring between colors as though he were glitching with indignation. “I wasn’t-! That was… dramatic effect. I was… performing.”
You let your smirk soften just a touch, trailing your clean hand down the center of his chest, feeling how it still stuttered under your touch. “Mhm. Whatever helps you sleep tonight, starboy.”
For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback. His screen dimmed slightly, his body sagging back against the couch cushions, still trembling faintly as though every system in him had been fried down to the last wire.
And the way his hand stayed loosely covering yours, even now, betrayed exactly how much he’d enjoyed every second of it.