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English
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Published:
2025-11-05
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2,129
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1/1
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Get you where you wanna go (If you know what I mean)

Summary:

There are only so many cigarettes in a pack before Enjin starts getting twitchy.

He put two in his mouth the other day when Gris took his shirt off during training drills, a move that he since hasn’t heard the end of from Riyo.

Notes:

YALL MIND IF I WRITE ENGINE GREASE RQ 🤨

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

To insinuate that Enjin’s just started noticing how mind meltingly hot Gris is would be a gross disservice to how down sick he’s been for the guy since day one, alright? He’d had to have been huffing trash fumes his entire life to not be gagging for the dude, cut him some fucking slack. 

It’s just that his patience has been wearing reeeeeeeal thin as of late. Each day is a fresh, sexy Hell of Gris whipping their ride like he’s got a death wish and giving pep talks to the kids and being all helpful and trustworthy and big as shit and there are only so many cigarettes in a pack before Enjin starts getting twitchy. 

He put two in his mouth the other day when Gris took his shirt off during training drills, a move that he since hasn’t heard the end of from Riyo. 

And you know what? That was the final straw. Enjin can handle a whole lot of shit talk, but once word gets back to the teenage mean girls that he’s fumbling the bag this hard, it’s all over. It’s only a matter of time before he catches Riyo and Amo tittering behind his back and then it’ll only be a matter of seconds before Gris gets with the program. 

He absolutely refuses to go down like that.

The opportunity arises way sooner than Enjin had hoped in the form of their new little orphan’s welcome party. No matter how wary the other Cleaners had been when a Raider had snuck his way into the fold, they couldn’t fathom not using his arrival as an excuse to throw a rager. Besides, it wasn’t like Fu was going anywhere, apparently. He’d glommed onto Enjin like a barnacle, joining the ranks of Enjin’s misfit child gang with no shortage of enthusiasm. 

Enjin might have even thought the whole thing was adorable if Fu didn’t need someone to order him to brush his teeth and make his bed in the morning. 

A win is a win, though, and Enjin plans on taking the motherfucking gold tonight, bitch. He’d prefilled an empty handle of Hennessy with apple juice and did his level best at being extra loud and faux white girl wasted, dancing on tables and getting up to bullshit. 

He catches Gris’ eyes watching him with that special brand of puppy dog concern of his when he breaks a pool stick over his knee and calls for more shots, the poor thing wringing his hands in his lap like he’s just waiting for Enjin to fall over dead from lethal levels of blood alcohol content. 

Enjin decides to put him out of his misery and takes an actual shot, needing the tang of liquor on his breath to really sell the bit, winking at Gris as he slams the little glass down on the grimy tabletop. He rises from his seat and puts a lean in his step, stumbling over to Gris and collapsing bonelessly into his lap. 

Fuck, has he mentioned how big this handsome bastard is? Shit ain’t right

Heeeeeeeey, Grisgris.” Enjin giggles, planting a sloppy kiss on Gris’ cheek. “Di’nt feel like drinkin’ wif us?” He puts on his best pout and walks his fingers up Gris’ chest, touch settling against the warmth at the base of Gris’ throat. 

“Ah, but I think you drank enough for the both of us, hm?” Gris smiles gently, catching Enjin around the middle as he feints falling back against the table. “Probably time to call it a night, huh?” 

Oh, he’s just making it too goddamn easy. 

Enjin melts against Gris’ front and pets absently through his hair, slurring half hearted protest as Gris stands up and drapes Enjin’s arm around his big shoulders, damn near dragging him toward the dorm rooms. 

“Sush a gentleman, G.” Enjin swoons, making sure his body stays heavy and his boots clunk uselessly against the linoleum, holding onto Gris even tighter like he’s scared of eating shit. 

“What would the kids think if I let you drink yourself to death? You were one shot away from smashing a bottle over your head. I could see it in your eyes.” Gris easily fishes Enjin’s keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, taking extra care in making sure Enjin’s properly on the bed before he rights himself, hands on his hips like a fretful mother. “Let me go get you some water, alright? I’ll be right bacK—!” 

Enjin’s got Gris pinned to the bed before he can even think of taking a step out of the room, pretty blue eyes wide and mouth slack. 

“What’s the rush, baby? I’m feelin’ pretty sexy right now.” Enjin grins, words free of any and all fake inebriation. 

“No, you’re drun—…” Gris squints critically at Enjin, concern quickly giving way to mild confusion. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

“Can’t get shit past you, can I?” Enjin snickers, leaning forward to start kissing messily up Gris’ throat. 

“Why— Fuck.” Gris groans as Enjin latches onto his pulse point and sucks, hands clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles go white.

“Can’t a guy confess his feelings with a shoddily planned gag anymore, baby? It’s like you don’t even want me to have fun.” 

“Okay, that doesn’t even make sense and you know it?” Gris huffs, fingers letting go of the sheets in favor of winding through Enjin’s hair, yanking on the longer strands so Enjin’s forced to make eye contact. “I’d argue I already let you have too much fun as it is.” Gris tugs on Enjin’s gauge until he squawks, chasing after the sound with a chaste press of lips. 

“Oh? My fuck?” Enjin chokes, eyes wide and mouth slack. “Do not pull my chain right now, baby, I’ll kill my fucking self.” Enjin tilts down so he can catch Gris at a better angle, taking advantage of Gris’ answering chuckle and licking greedy past his lips. 

“You really never stop talking, huh?” Gris giggles, big hands sliding down Enjin’s back to pinch his ass, fixing Enjin with an entirely too innocent look when he pulls back to gape at him. 

Enjin meant it when he said this shit just ain’t right. Gris Rubion, the steadfast Supporter, smacking his ass and kissing Enjin back. He’s flushed in the face and sprawled out so loose and sexy that Enjin is half tempted to take a picture, pretty blue eyes full of that special little light Enjin had lost to Umbreaker years ago. He’s more than enough to make a shithead like Enjin fall to his knees in reverence, those steady hands and that handsome smile all for him.

“Seems you like when I run my mouth, ne, G?” Enjin leers, fingers quick to begin unbuttoning Gris’ shirt, teeth and tongue following over the newly exposed skin. 

He drags his lips over the now pink scar across Gris’ ribs, looking up at him from beneath blonde lashes as he cups his tits and sucks messily at one peaked nipple. 

“Never— shit, never said I didn’t.” Gris smiles, head tilting back on a debauched groan as Enjin moves lower. 

Enjin goddamn nuzzles the front of Gris’ pants, mouthing him through the thick fabric as he works his fly open. He can’t possibly kick up something smart to say once he’s finally got Gris’ dick out, thick and heavy in his calloused hands, so sticky wet Enjin has to lick his fingers clean. 

“Cute.” Enjin purrs, kissing the head, pleased to find Gris blushing pink down to his chest. “You like bein’ called cute, baby?” 

Gris’ mouth opens and shuts like a fish, clearly searching for words that refuse to come. He covers his face with his hands and nods instead, peeking out from between his fingers.

Cute.” Enjin reiterates, bullying Gris’ cock as far down his throat as it’ll go and working the rest with his hand. 

“Oh, ha—!!” Gris bucks, whining when Enjin holds him down, hands moving to grip the headboard so hard Enjin’s shocked it doesn’t splinter. 

Everything’s so goddamn wet, Gris’ cock sliding easy down his throat, the extra spit squelching dirty down between his legs. Enjin massages his balls and slips his finger down just to tease, brow cocking nearly up to his hairline as Gris’ hips grind down against the pressure. 

“Yeah?” He swirls the pad of his thumb against Gris’ hole, cock throbbing against the mattress when Gris can only manage to jerkily nod, bottom lip caught so hard between his teeth Enjin worries it’ll bleed. “Deep breaths, baby.” Enjin coos, pulling back and sucking on his fingers, maintaining eye contact as he slides easy inside. 

Gris groans low in his throat at the pressure, sandy lashes clumped sweetly with tears, the look in his eyes somewhere between disbelief and affection. It’s a look so good Enjin would have a hard time believing it was meant for him if he didn’t have Gris’ dick resting sticky against his cheek and his finger knuckle deep in tight heat, that usual swagger he wields like a crutch disintegrating beneath the honest desire Gris wears so well. 

“Remind me again why I didn’t get around to this sooner?” Enjin laughs, curling his finger up with his next thrust in, Gris’ hips jolting up off the bed. 

“B-Because you’re an, ah! An asshole?” Gris moans, the sound distorting into a breathless chuckle. 

“Sounds right.” Enjin spreads Gris’ cheeks and spits on his hole, sucking bruises into the thick give of Gris’ thighs as he fucks two fingers past his rim.  

He somehow manages to work Gris up to three before he’s squeezing those sexy, sexy thighs of his hard enough around Enjin’s neck to crack something, pulling Enjin up by the hair and manhandling him into a messy kiss that’s more tongue than finesse.

Enjin blindly reaches for the lube in his bedside drawer and crows when he’s snagged it, kicking out of his cargos as Gris clumsily wrestles his shirt off over his head. 

He sits back on his knees, fully prepared to slick his shit up and get down to it, but he’s struck dumb by the vision laid out beneath him. 

Gris is sweat slick, sun warm skin fever pink in the dirty light of the moon coming in through the window, littered with bites and half formed bruises from collarbones to thighs, lips raw and eyes wet. He’s the prettiest fucking thing Enjin’s ever seen and he’s gripped with a sudden wave of seldom felt awe so strong he swears all of HQ can hear his heartbeat. 

Gris’ smile gets terribly tender as he winds his arms around Enjin’s neck, coaxing him down into a kiss so syrup sweet Enjin’s teeth ache in their nicotine soaked gums. 

“You gonna fuck me, handsome?” Gris hums, stroking Enjin and batting those lethal fucking lashes, lips tilted up into a coy smile.

“You are fucking dangerous.” Enjin huffs, slicking his cock and pressing forward, swearing loud in the quiet room as he thrusts slowly to the hilt. 

And he had every intention of taking shit slow and really fucking Gris through the mattress, alright? Hand on the goddamn Bible he did but then Gris goes and wrecks all his good intentions and locks up so tight around him he sees stars, cock kicking once before painting them both up to their chins. 

Gris shakes through the aftershocks like he’s undergoing electroshock, eyes dazed and mouth open, fingers wound up so hard in Enjin’s hair he’s sure he’ll come away with chunks of blonde in his grip. 

“Fuck me, it’s that good, baby?” Enjin grits, getting both hands behind Gris’ knees and practically folding him in half, orgasm coiling so ruthless in his gut he’s sure he won’t last for more than a handful of moments. “I’m startin’ to think you like my cock more than you like me, G.” 

Gris shakes his head and holds on tighter, cock continuing to leak between them, whining when Enjin presses down on his stomach.

He wails so loud Enjin has to clamp his hand over his mouth, body close to convulsing as he squirts messily across Enjin’s splayed hand. 

Enjin solidifies his newly minted status as a minute man as he follows right behind, collapsing against Gris’ chest in the aftermath, content to laze around in the mess they’ve made for as long as Gris will let him. 

Gris raises shaky hands to Enjin’s face and pets his cheeks, kissing Enjin’s nose as he rolls his head around in Gris’ hold like a spoiled dog. 

“Didn’t know you were a two pump chump, Jinnie—!!” Gris howls as Enjin wrestles him into the sheets, laughing so cute Enjin can’t even be mad that it’s at his expense. 

 

Notes:

Gris is my precious Barbie doll and Enjin is the freak I throw into walls and put in my dryer with tennis shoes. You understand