Big Book of Xephna One Shots

Helping Hand (N)

TW: Smut. Dubious Content. Tekkit.

Xephos' stomach growled. He had been hard at work on the newest addition to the machine wall, and standing back, he realised he couldn't remember when he last ate. He stretched, his shoulder blades edging towards each other as he groaned. Looking up through the factory lights, he saw the sun directly above; it was noon. Every so often he'd snatch glances of Lalna's labcoat as he moved between sorting machines, entirely engrossed in tweaking and retweaking the system.

"Do you want any lunch, friend?" Xephos called up to the scientist.

"Nah, I'm alright thanks," Lalna answered distractedly, scratching his head as he stared into the newest sorter, watching their materials being divided and flung into the pipes.

Xephos nodded, forgetting that Lalna couldn't see him, and headed out the factory door. The sun felt warm on his back, but he barely noticed, looking toward the swamps, and the shore of Pig Island just visible in the mist on the horizon. As his hand touched the door handle to the back of the work shed, he stopped, the vague memory of a dream shifting without warning across his thoughts. He shook his head as if to clear it, and snatches of the remembrance came back to him - ruddy cheeks; soft red hair emerging from an iron helmet; broad, muscular shoulders.

He opened the door, making a beeline for the chests, and taking some bread off the top of a precarious pile stacked in one corner. Sitting down on his bed, he picked at the crust absently, trying to dredge the rest of the dream from his mind. Honeydew's face rose to the surface, his eyes closed, the sound of his voice not speaking in words, only noises.

Xephos sighed, looking to the dwarf's large bed across the room. Honeydew spent all his time on Pig Island, but for as long as he'd been absent, Xephos had been plagued by the dwarf in his dreams. Sometimes he'd wake up with his hand outstretched, opening his eyes to the sober dawn light when his fingers closed on nothing more than cold sheets. That morning had been different, and he put down the bread, raking his fingers through his hair, trying to bring more of the dream into the daylight. It had seemed so real; Honeydew's body against his, the smell of him filling Xephos' nostrils, the dwarf's strong hands gripping his skin. Xephos had woken up with his cock hard, his sweat sticking him to the blankets. He had fumbled to hide it as Lalna bustled obliviously around the room, absorbed in his morning routine. Thinking of it now, Xephos looked down and was unsurprised to find his groin bulging, a soft throbbing rising in his body. He peered out the window. The sorting machine would keep Lalna occupied for hours, he reasoned with himself, unbuckling his belt and tugging down his trousers. The scientist wouldn't miss him for a little longer yet. Xephos grasped his cock, letting his mind wander to his dream, desperately imagining it was Honeydew's fingers around his member rather than his own. He quickened his pace, his eyes dipping shut as he tried to block out all other thoughts but the sensation, and the image of the dwarf before him.

***

Lalna scratched his head, looking down at the growing contents of the "Unsorted" chest and spying things he was sure he'd found a place for. He flew down to adjust the sorter below, but when he dug through his pockets he recalled with a huff that Xephos had borrowed the correct wrench. He looked down over the factory floor, his hand on the scaffolding. How long had Xephos been gone?, Lalna wondered, rubbing his eyes. He flew down and eyed the debris Xephos had left beside the machine wall; stray wires, coal dust, and a single carbon plate leant against the pipes, but no wrench. He headed out the door and to the work shed, wondering if the man had fallen asleep. He'd certainly been odd that morning, dazed somehow. Lalna opened the back door without knocking, and Xephos' voice met his ears, though softer than he'd ever heard it, a raw whimper: "Honeydew..."