Chapter Text
Enjin has just slammed into another trash beast, sending it spiraling across the dusty fields, when his back decides, yeah no, I actually don't care, and zips a painful burning sensation up his spine.
He almost drops Umbreaker as he gasps, only managing to hold it with a flimsy hold. One of the supporters nearby glance over at him with a concerned look. Enjin gives them a wave and smiles awkwardly before turning around and pretending that everything's fine.
Because nothing happened at all. Nope. None whatsoever. He definitely hasn't been feeling back pains for the past however many weeks, and he definitely, definitely isn't going to fix it, because there is nothing to fix.
He grits his teeth and steers back into action. Umbreaker unsheathes itself into a defensive stance as he braces for another impact that comes hurdling his way. The trash beast lets out a yowl but isn't able to do much else as Enjin pushes forward, obliterating the Anima within.
When the trash comes piling down onto the ground in waves, Enjin lets out a heaving breath and wipes the sweat from his brows.
He's glad he'll be back to base soon. His back needs it.
He collapses onto his bed as soon as they arrive at HQ, tuckered out from fighting trash beasts back to back for however long he'd been fighting. Semiu had given him a sympathetic look as he turned towards his bedroom, giving him a heads up that there'll be another mission coming up pretty quick.
Enjin couldn't be bothered to know what the mission might entail, the idea of flopping down onto a nice, cold bed being the only thing that his mind can keep as a constant. He enters his room, and once shutting the door, does exactly just that, sighing in relief as the pains in his back fade just slightly. He shifts, scooching his face into his pillow and wrapping his arms around it.
This is nice, Enjin thinks happily, burrowing into the comforts of his bed. He rolls his shirt off after some shuffling and tosses it to the side, arms reaching into the air as he finally gets to stretch his back. He leans side to side, slowly, listening to and feeling the cracks that sound from doing so.
Tension eases from him, but not enough for him to be comfortable. It doesn't really matter though. Another mission is coming up soon, and he knows his team won't leave without him. He leans off his bed to grab his shirt he'd half-hazardly tossed away, wincing when he reaches too far, and hauls it over his shoulder.
Enjin stands back up after some convincing words to himself, sighing. He goes to leave his room, opening the door, when his eyes lock onto a familiar set of blond and blue.
It's Tamsy, who seems to be passing by his room, but giving Enjin an inquisitive look upon a double take at the man.
"Something the matter?" Tamsy tilts his head, eyes raking over Enjin's body once, twice, before meeting his eyes.
Enjin clears his throat and looks away, a slight flush on his ears. Not that he'd notice. "Nah. Nothing to worry about."
"I see." Tamsy stays there, and it increasingly becomes uncomfortable because neither of them knows what to say. Tamsy exhales slowly, then turns to face Enjin fully. "May I come in?"
"What, to my room?" They haven't really... talked. At all. Enjin is a little confused by his question.
"Where else?" Tamsy raises a brow.
"Well, I mean..." Enjin scratches the back of his head. "Sure. Is there like, a specific reason though?"
"I don't believe there has to be one," Tamsy says in a smooth tone, and before Enjin knows it Tamsy's already in his room and settled on his bed. He gestures for Enjin to sit next to him.
Enjin feels naked without his shirt on. Should he put one on? Does Tamsy even care? Will it bother him if Enjin does?
Why is he even overthinking this? He should be more focused on the fact that he doesn't have much time left before the next mission.
...Oh whatever. He can spend a few minutes with Tamsy.
Enjin, carefully, sits down on his bed next to Tamsy's right side, hand grazing over the sheets, not quite touching Tamsy. It's quiet. The silence is deafening.
"Uh, y'know what food we just got from the east?" Enjin asks, hoping for some small talk with the man resting beside him. He still wants to figure out why exactly Tamsy decided to enter his room.
Tamsy dutifully obliges, eyelashes fluttering as he lowers his eyelids. "No. What might it be?"
"We got like, a buncha' different foods from there. Rice, and uhhh, meat, and some other good stuff that I forget. I wonder what we're gonna be cooking up tonight. I'm getting hungry just at the thought of eating some actual food instead of sweets."
Maybe if he gets some good food, his back won't be screaming at him each time he changes his posture.
Tamsy glances at him with a curious gaze, a smile on his lips. "Oh really? I don't know, I'm not too much of a fan for rice."
Enjin tilts his head towards Tamsy. Tamsy's hand twitches, then inches closer to press his pinky against Enjin. Enjin's breath hitches. "You've tried it? When?"
Tamsy puckers his lip as he thinks about it, eyes turned towards the roof. He looks kind of silly doing that. "Not long ago. Maybe it was because of where I'd eaten it, but I've always catered towards the sweets."
"Oh? What kind of sweets do you normally enjoy?"
Tamsy grins at him. "Cakes, mostly." He licks his lips at the thought. "The cream is something that I particularly enjoy."
Enjin doesn't know what to say to that, his gaze lowering more than it should. He does his best to keep his eyes averted on places that it should not linger.
"What about you, Enjin? What do you usually enjoy?" Tamsy goes to ask, seemingly very interested in Enjin's answer.
You, Enjin almost says as a joke. He proceeds to cough violently from the thought. What the fuck I CANNOT say that to him. Enjin shrugs, attempting to act casual. He's casual. Definitely.
"Dunno. Haven't tried enough foods to think of something that I actually, like, really enjoyed."
He stretches, then winces when his back complains at him for doing so. He sees Tamsy frown from out of the corner of his eyes for whatever reason. It leaves a giddy feeling coursing throughout Enjin.
He gets up from the bed to pop a few of his bones as he stretches again, particularly his spine so it'd stop screaming, and rolls his shoulders back as his arm fall back down to his sides.
Tamsy stares.
Enjin turns around, confused by the quiet that follows.
Tamsy blinks out of it. "You have somewhere to be?"
Enjin nods. "Got a mission to get to in a few. Just wanna move 'round a bit before I head off." Most of the pain usually goes away once he's fighting trash beasts.
He settles back down on the bed, legs straightened out in front of him and taking up the majority of the space.
Tamsy lays a hand on his leg suddenly, and gives him a stern look. Enjin jumps, trying not to squirm at the hand that slowly moves up and around his side, fingers just barely brushing over to his back.
"You're more obvious than you think you are," Tamsy points out.
Enjin's heart stops. "What do you mean?"
Tamsy moves his hand then, fingers tapping along his back as it reaches upwards. "It hurts, doesn't it?" It's not really asked like a question though. No, it sounds much more like a solid statement.
"Hey, I'm fine. Comes with the age." Enjin laughs, but Tamsy's hand doesn't leave. Rather, his fingers press ever so deeper into his skin, and Enjin's heart skips a beat.
He watches as his fingers trail up and down his tattoos, before making its way up and over his shoulder, squeezing. "You're tense," mutters Tamsy. "Has Eishia not checked up on you?"
"It's not that bad. I can hide it well enough."
Tamsy just hums dismissively, his other hand snaking up Enjin's side. "Lay down."
Enjin freezes. "What?"
"I'll massage you."
"Nonono, I'm fine, really-"
"Enjin."
"Yes sir."
Enjin lies down onto his stomach, nervous, and feels Tamsy move behind him as he gets into a better position. Hands now steady on both of his shoulders, palms beginning to shift up and down in a calming motion. Enjin tries to ignore the lump in his throat when he swallows.
The thumbs press into the dents of his shoulders, palms molding against him. Enjin's mouth drops as Tamsy's hands find their way around the aches that litter Enjin's shoulder.
Pressing into each little dent, with care and precision, he fixes every knot that's formed from the hours of fighting trash beasts and longer. Enjin hides his face into the blankets, letting out muffled sounds from this feeling that overwhelms him. It's relief that eases him into the touch of Tamsy, letting him do whatever, knowing that it'll make him feel good like this.
He knows Tamsy's smiling right now, because he gives one last solid squeeze to his relaxed shoulder before traveling down, sliding over every bump of his muscles. Fingers faintly trace the lines of tattoos, and Enjin's starting to think that Tamsy might have a thing for them before his hands become a godsend once more.
Enjin desperately hopes that Tamsy doesn't mind the sounds leaving him, finding them all too similar to the girls that he'd give a quick fuck in a bathroom stall or something. Fuck. Since when did Tamsy know how to work his hands like that?
He lifts his head up to ask, but Tamsy forces it back down with his other hand. "Stay," he orders, his tone leaving no room for arguments. Enjin just nods into the sheets, groaning across as Tamsy unties a knot that's been bothering him from his side.
He leans into Tamsy's touch, body feeling more limp and lither than he's ever felt in a long, good while. It reminds him of when he was younger, not restrained by the age that now wears his bones down.
Enjin's taken out of his thoughts when Tamsy moves his hands down further, hand rubbing against his calves. Enjin squirms then, a heat rising to his face. Tamsy just huffs, and gives a tight squeeze.
"Ow ow- ghh," Enjin breathes as Tamsy rolls his thumb into his muscle, quickly easing and soothing over the aches that were once there. All that lies now is the lingering feeling of Tamsy's angelic hands having moved over his body in such a way that's left him sluggish wherever they've touched.
He's almost disappointed when Tamsy finally moves off of him, listening to the man crack his knuckles and observing his work. "Does that feel better?" he asks, and Enjin gingerly nods after a minute to really register the words to his brain.
He lies there, unable to move a muscle from the way everything feels so nice. Enjin burrows his head back into the blankets, wanting to bask in this feeling forever, and hears a chuckle escape Tamsy's lips.
"I'll be going now," he says softly, and Enjin doesn't ever remember hearing the door shut.
The reminder that he has a mission to get to springs up in his mind, and Enjin begrudgingly gets out of bed.
He slips back into his shirt, hauling his coat over his shoulders when he leaves.
Enjin hasn't felt this loose in a long time.
Hey, not like that. That's not what he meant.
What he did mean, was the fact that he could actually move without one of his limbs trying to actively attack him for moving it.
The next few days are a breeze, and Enjin is as light as a feather throughout those said days. Others have surely noticed, but no one's asked yet, so Enjin isn't bothered to speak up about it.
His mind, however, loves to supply him with the memories of Tamsy's hands kneading his shoulders and calves. He'll always know it was Tamsy hands because the man is missing a chunk of his pinky finger on his right hand, and that thought genuinely shouldn't be as enticing as his thoughts try to make it out to be.
He tries to keep himself focused on the never-ending missions that come hurdling his way, each one easy to deal with from his freeing pains. He knows though, that eventually his back will start to ache again. It's inevitable. Comes with the package of aging or whatever the fuck Enjin has going on.
It's on a random day that Enjin is tilting his back, Umbreaker pointed towards a trash beast before he attacks, when his back decides to screw him over and temporarily lock in place, stunning him.
He's lucky to have teammates that have his back (hah) when he needs it. Zanka leaps in front of him, getting the focus of the trash beast away from the man. It gives Enjin enough time to posture his back to normal, and watches as Zanka finishes the dealing blow swiftly.
They get back to base, and Enjin internally groans when he collapses onto his bed. Pain shoots up his side, and Enjin wants to personally claw his spine out so it'll go away. He groans, trying not to move because it'll just hurt more, when he hears a knock from his door.
"Enjin?" a soft voice calls out, and he hears the door open after a few seconds. He goes to turn his head to look at the figure, but stops himself before he regrets it. The door closes softly.
It's Tamsy, Enjin sees upon the man inching closer to the other, wearing a concerned expression as he looks over Enjin's pathetic form. He sits down next to him, resting a hand on his back. Touchy, Enjin thinks. His face warms from the thought.
"Heyyy," Enjin replies casually. "What's up, Tamsy?"
"I'm checking up on you."
Enjin scoffs, getting himself more comfortable so he can face Tamsy properly. "Checking up on me? I'm fine, dude. You don't need to worry about me."
Tamsy deadpans, fingers digging into Enjin's back, almost like knives. Enjin hisses, "Okay, okay, stop- I've dealt with the pain all my life. It's no biggie, I swear."
An eyebrow is raised. "It doesn't look like 'no biggie'. It looks like it's hurting."
Well, yeah, that's what pain is, Enjin wants to retort, but the words refuse to leave him. Tamsy leans closer, and Enjin can feel the heat emanating from the other. "You sure you don't need help with it?"
The thought of Tamsy's hands all over him, easing his pains seamlessly, has Enjin pause to think about his reply.
Okay. I mean, what's so wrong with getting a massage from Tamsy? It's a win-win situation. No idea what Tamsy's getting out of this, but my back gets to stop hurting for a while. Nothing weird about your fellow colleague giving you back massages every now and then.
Sighing, Enjin nods and lays properly on his stomach. "Okay, fine." Hesitation. "But don't do anything that'll hurt," he adds.
Tamsy chuckles and kneels over him, hands already placed on his shoulders. "The point of a massage, Enjin," he rolls his palms against Enjin's shoulders as he says this. Enjin gasps. "Is to get rid of those aches. Now let's take this shirt off and let me help you, hm?"
Enjin nods pathetically so, as he scrambles to take his shirt off and cast it to the side. Tamsy squeezes his shoulders then, and Enjin's legs squirm.
Tamsy easily pins them down with his own legs (holy shit) as he does another knead of his palms. Tamsy clambers on top of him to get a better grip, leaning forward, face uncomfortably close to Enjin's ear as he continues to massage the other.
The heat that rolls off of Tamsy has Enjin feeling hot and dizzy. His face is pressed into the pillows now, a stirring feeling beginning to form in his lower region. Fuck.
Tamsy hums as he continues his caress, hands making their way down Enjin's sides and relaxing the tension that lies in each crevice. Enjin's breathing heavy, and Tamsy makes a sound in his throat. "You alright there, Enjin? Should I slow down?"
Why did he have to say it like that, Enjin groans as Tamsy lets his hands wander to his sides, holding him steady. "I'm fine. Just- keep going."
The aches are taken away by the hands that seem to cover him entirely, and Enjin desperately wishes he would stop focusing on the body that's pressed against him. Tamsy's hair falls down his sides, the bun loose.
Enjin squeezes his eyes shut, hands curling into fists, when Tamsy stops. "Enjin?" he says softly, his voice a murmur in Enjin's ears. Enjin shivers. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I told you, I'm all good," Enjin grits his teeth.
Tamsy pauses for a moment, staring at Enjin with an expression that he can't turn around to properly see, when his hands slowly slide down Enjin's back before retreating. "I think we're done for the day. Come find me when your back starts to hurt again, okay?"
Tamsy gets off of Enjin, hands reaching up to fix his hair that flopped from leaning over. Enjin glances at him from the pillow still stuffed in his face. Tamsy notices him looking, and flashes him a smile.
Tamsy leaves shortly after, the door closing with a click. Enjin exhales, hands around the pillow as he tries to compose himself. I got hard from him massaging me. Are you fucking kidding me right now.
Who in their right mind gets a hard-on from a massage? As if tempted, Enjin shifts his hips slightly into the mattress, warmth pooling below from the friction. He takes a breath, the lingering scent of Tamsy's faint vanilla still present.
He does another roll of his hips, and he burrows himself into the pillow to stop himself from making too much noise. A hand slithers down and palms against the hardness of his cock.
He imagines that it's Tamsy's hand, voice whispering sweet compliments in his ear as he works those aches out of him. Enjin brings his other hand to rest on his shoulder, giving small squeezes whenever his hips move on their own.
His breath hitches as he works faster, the heat building up slowly but surely. Enjin finally gets the balls to slip his hand underneath his waistband, hands wrapping around his dick as he eagerly pumps.
Enjin whines, feeling overheated as he thrusts into his hand. With one last squeeze to his shoulder, he comes, body sagging as the tension leaves him. Sticky residue coats his fingers, staining his boxers no doubt, and Enjin has half a mind not to wipe his hand on anything.
He gets out of bed, begrudgingly, cleaning himself up and staring at himself in the mirror. There's a sense of guilt that plagues him, having y'know, masturbated to something that should be completely normal (his incredibly sexy colleague giving him massages for his back pains). He snaps out of it, drying his hands off as he steps out of the bathroom.
Enjin fiddles with his shirt that'd been tossed. He bites the inside of his cheek, glancing back to his ruffled bed. It's not like he'd know that I got off to him.
He takes a deep breath in, then exhales. I'm fine. I'll be fine. Who cares if I pop a boner while he massages me? Definitely not me, nope. Not. At. All.
He leaves for a mission soon after, and tries not to remember the hands that roamed across his bare back; ones that sunk lower and lower until it left Enjin writhing in a heated gut feeling he doesn't want to name.