Work Text:
There was a knock at the heavy wooden door, and then a low voice said, “Knock knock?”
Scott sat up so fast he sent a surge of water splashing onto the floor. “Etho?”
Etho sounded privately amused, the way he usually did. “Are you decent?”
“Sure,” Scott said. His heart was abruptly hammering in his chest. “Sure, yeah. Come on in.”
The door creaked open, and then Etho was there, silhouetted strangely in the doorway with the early evening spilling in after him. “Oh, hey Scott,” he said.
For a moment Scott could hear the faint lilting of crickets and see a few golden specks that must have been fireflies, and then Etho shut the door behind him, which was considerate; the chances that Bdubs would barrel into the room had never been zero, but they were significantly higher now that Etho was here.
Scott had been particularly looking forward to relaxing—alone—in the hot tub and not having to think about everything that had been happening. It had been a long and arduous day of hard work, building the cabin, clearing the area, wrangling teammates and witnessing several deaths already. Scott had given strict instructions to Scar not to disturb him until the time came for them to have the nightly team meeting, and Scar had happily said something about wanting to blow some creepers in the meantime—Scott hadn’t really been listening—and then he’d retreated to the sauna. Like the cabin proper, the room was still in progress, but at least the hot tub itself was in good working order.
“Hi,” Scott said. “Here to keep me company?”
The room was warm, slow curls of steam rising from the surface of the water, and the low lighting cast flickering shadows onto the wooden walls. Etho made a quiet huffing sound that Scott recognised as a laugh. “Not really dressed for it.”
“You can just take your pants off and sit on the step,” Scott suggested.
Etho looked down at the hot tub. For a moment Scott had the inane urge to close his legs. It wasn’t like he cared. Or like Etho could see anything, since he still had his shorts on. “Maybe. Yeah okay, I’ll do that, it’s pretty cold outside.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”
Another amused huff. Scott shut his eyes and sank down in the warm water until he could tip his head back and rest it against the lip of the hot tub. A moment later, he heard the slosh of water being displaced as Etho stepped into the tub. “Oh wow, it’s really working. Scar did a good job figuring that out, even without redstone or anything.”
“Mm,” Scott said. He kept his eyes closed. “I’ll have to do something to thank him later. Not everyone’s a redstone genius like you.”
When Scott opened his eyes again, Etho was looking at him curiously. “That’s nice of you.”
“Well, now’s the time to be nice to everybody. Helps us have a better chance at surviving later; you know how it is.”
Etho looked away. “That’s what’s on your mind?”
Scott had no illusions as to the longevity of this alliance. Scar was impossibly volatile, and as likely to take out his own team as anyone else. Bdubs was loud and belligerent and seemed comparatively unreceptive to diplomacy. It was mainly Etho that Scott would have to count on; he’d sought out Etho on the first day for a reason. At least Etho knew more or less what he was doing.
“Maybe,” Scott said. He laughed quietly. “Mostly I just want to relax for a bit. Long day. And I’m kinda sore from working on the cabin.” He nodded to Etho. “How’s it feel?”
Etho glanced down at the water again. The glass panes beneath their feet were sturdy, Scott knew, but it still made something turn over in his stomach when he saw the lava churning below them. “It’s pretty hot.”
“Well, it’s a hot tub. And the puffer vest probably doesn’t help.”
“You’re still in a shirt,” Etho pointed out.
“Normally I make pretty boys buy me dinner before taking off my clothes for them,” Scott said, keeping his tone light, but he did pull the shirt over his head and drop it behind the side of the hot tub. “Happy?”
“Bdubs made dinner,” Etho reminded him, “for all of us.”
“Yeah, it was good. I don’t usually go in for steak, but he’s a good cook.”
Etho hummed. Scott wished he could crack his skull open and see what was going on inside that inexplicable head of his; something told him that directly asking would be the wrong direction to take. Instead, he extended his legs, slow enough that Etho would notice and not get spooked, to the other side of the tub.
It really wasn’t that large, especially not with two adult men trying to fit themselves in there. Scott leaned back and closed his eyes again with a long exhale.
For a while they soaked in silence. Scott had to keep stopping himself from trying to spy on Etho through his lashes, namely by reminding himself that he’d hear—and feel—if Etho got up to leave. He had been kind of hoping Etho would eye him up a little when he took his shirt off, but maybe Etho was just shy. There was nothing wrong with that.
It still made Scott feel antsy, though. He didn’t like not knowing where he stood with someone. He was relatively confident that Etho liked him, respected him even, but the tenacity of such a dynamic was uncertain. What kinds of things annoyed Etho, beyond the obvious? Scott couldn’t figure him out.
Etho had been generally supportive of Scott’s direction for building the cabin, even when the materials available weren’t up to par. He’d been generally receptive when Scott had given him supplies or compliments. He’d been more than willing to chatter away about the mechanics of the world, which Scott had appreciated; it was always good to know as much as possible. But as to how Etho felt about loyalty, what kinds of things could make Etho turn tail and run or keep him where he was put, Scott had no idea.
For the briefest of moments he’d considered going to ask Cleo. But then he’d probably have to deal with Martyn.
Cleo had questionable taste in men. At least, Scott thought, a bit wry, it was thematically appropriate to get back with your ex; the only reason Scott hadn’t done it himself was because he’d figured he had other, more interesting prospects to focus on.
“Sorry to talk shop,” Scott said, keeping his eyes closed and his voice low, almost a murmur.
Etho adjusted slightly; Scott could hear the faint sound of water lapping against stone. “Go ahead.”
“Wood is maybe not the best building choice. As much as it pains me to say it. If someone else doesn’t burn the cabin down, it’s gonna happen by accident at some point, probably.”
“You gotta watch out for fire spread too,” Etho commented. “Especially when arson is common, a smaller fire could easily turn into a wildfire if you’re not paying attention. It could legitimately wipe out the entire area if you’re not careful.”
“Oh. So we were kinda really stupid, then.”
“No, I like the cabin,” Etho said. There was that quiet amusement in his voice again. “It’s… rugged. Suitable.”
“Sorry you didn’t get your bearskin rug. Maybe I can dye up some wool later.” Scott sighed. “And honestly I could use a bath bomb or something at this point.”
Silence, for a long moment. Scott chanced opening his eyes and saw that Etho was looking directly at him. In one hand was a chalky piece of redstone.
“Oh, he’s funny,” Scott said, dry.
Etho chuckled, pocketing the redstone. “I have so much of this stuff, everyone was giving it to me.”
“Yeah, I’ll be honest, I was gonna say, like—I don’t know how to do anything with redstone. You’ll have to teach me sometime.”
“If you’d like,” Etho said.
“I asked, didn’t I? Like I said, I been wanting to team with you for a while.”
Etho didn’t say anything to that. Scott didn’t know if he was genuinely oblivious or if Etho was just playing hard to get. It was lucky for him that Scott enjoyed a good chase.
Not always: he’d never had to chase Martyn, but that was different anyway. Scott liked to keep his options open. He didn’t usually have to work very hard to get Jimmy back when he was in that sort of mood, and besides, Jimmy was with—other people. So Scott had given him a little reminder, just to make sure Jimmy knew where he belonged, and then set his sights elsewhere.
The hot water was soothing, a delightful contrast with the humidity of the sauna, the scent of chlorine thick in the air. Scott rolled his shoulders back, stretching them out. It was a pleasant soreness, the kind that came from hard work, not from injury. He said, “You know, I’ve heard Bdubs is really good at massages.”
That got Etho’s attention, at least. “Mmhm, yep. The best.”
“You two’ve known each other for a really long time,” Scott said, testing.
“Since the beginning,” Etho said. “He’s—he’s my best buddy.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” said Scott, for lack of something more salient. He’d not had much interaction with Bdubs before now, but what little he could recall did not exactly paint the man in as glowing a light as Etho’s regard. “It’s nice to hang out with new people too though.”
“I haven’t teamed with Scar in a while,” Etho agreed.
“Well I wanted to team with you,” Scott said, abandoning subtlety. Either Etho would say yes or he wouldn’t; Scott wasn’t the type to cry about rejection. “So, I gotta make sure I’m pulling my weight here. You know”—he shifted a bit closer to Etho—“I could show you how much I appreciate it.”
Etho’s eyebrows jumped. “Okay?”
The mask was really annoying, because it meant Scott couldn’t see half of Etho’s facial expressions. It unnerved him. How was he supposed to know how to react to someone whose face you couldn’t see in full?
Normally Scott preferred a more romantic approach, not to mention a more reasonable setting, but he could work with what was given. He was versatile like that. “Well,” he said, “it does kinda feel like I’ve been doing most of the actual labour with the building—”
“Scar made the hot tub,” Etho said, guileless.
Scott looked askance towards him. “Yeah, fair enough,” he allowed. “Besides, you’ve been doing so much hard work too though, I was gonna say, like, ‘oh, you should be paying me for my services,’ but I know we’re sharing everything ’cause we’re a team, so—instead—instead of giving me resources or something, you can pay me back by giving me attention.”
“Attention, huh,” said Etho.
“I accept all forms of currency,” Scott said. “Attention, flowers, diamonds, kisses, you name it. But the—well I was gonna say that, is what I was gonna say, but it’s mostly you what’s doing all the work really, so actually I should be servicing you instead, right.”
“Oh?”
“Well, you’re the one who knows what we’re doing here,” Scott said. “You’re the team leader.” On a gamble, he added, “The man in charge of things.”
Etho’s eyebrows drew together. He still seemed mostly amused by Scott, but not opposed to the idea, which was leverage enough. Scott glided one hand through the water to settle on Etho’s bony knee. He was wearing black boxer shorts that nominally reached mid-thigh, but had ridden up from the gentle stirring of the water. Scott said, “Is this okay?”
“This is what you want?” Etho sounded genuinely surprised to be propositioned.
“Well I’d like a kiss,” Scott said, “but I don’t know if that’s like, a cultural sensitivity thing, with the mask, so—”
That got the closest to a proper laugh he’d heard from Etho yet. “It’s not.”
“…Okay,” Scott said, but Etho didn’t seem like he would be any more forthcoming than that. “That’s fine, I can work with that.”
He set his palms on Etho’s thighs, prompting; Etho obligingly spread his legs wide enough for Scott to slot himself between them. “C’mere, up on the top step,” Scott said, pushing lightly at Etho’s shins, “so I don’t drown myself here.”
Etho shifted back helpfully, so that the water was only up to his hips but not covering his waist. He looked vaguely ridiculous, still in his oversized jacket but with his scrawny legs mostly in the water. He was pale enough that the flickering blue-and-orange ripples of the water made him appear almost translucent.
“Feel free to tell me what you like,” Scott said. “I’m good for pretty much anything.”
“So I’ve heard,” Etho said. Scott spared a second to wonder whether he ought to feel insulted before he decided it wasn’t worth dwelling on and instead started working on getting Etho out of his wet clothes, which were clinging to his skin.
When he got Etho’s cock in his hand, Scott took a moment to examine it, circling his fingers around the base and rubbing a fingertip against the head. Etho was pale all over, but his cock was flushed light pink from arousal and the warmth of the hot tub.
“Pretty,” Scott said; Etho made a vaguely affronted noise. “Sorry, not that? Big?”
“Scott,” Etho huffed.
“Okay, okay,” Scott said. “I’ll get on with it.”
He ducked down and took Etho’s cock into his mouth, just focusing on getting it properly wet at first. Etho shifted a little so he could splay his legs wider; Scott rested his arms on Etho’s thighs and went down a bit further. Etho wasn’t exactly small, but Scott was an expert here—and, more importantly, he was determined to do a good job. He pulled off slowly, dragging his tongue along the underside of Etho’s dick, and replaced his mouth with his hand while he said, “Anything you like in particular?”
Etho tilted his head to the side. “Consistency.”
“Consist—oh. Got it,” Scott said, feeling only a bit disgruntled.
The taste of chlorine was in his mouth. He returned to sucking Etho’s dick, and was rewarded with the taste of skin. Contrary to apparently popular belief, Scott wasn’t actually interested in whoring himself out to the entire server, but hooking up with one’s allies was the done thing for most teams. Few people were naïve enough to believe it meant anything.
And it was nice, sometimes. Scott never had any trouble finding someone to fuck if he wanted to; if he just wanted to come then he could always do it himself, but there was something satisfying on a deeper level about making someone else come. Having that control over someone else’s body was always a thrill. Scott might not have consciously been thinking of ending up here when he’d suggested to Etho that they team up, but he had no complaints about his position. And besides, he hadn’t done this in a while, namely because his past two teams hadn’t exactly been amenable for it.
Well, maybe one complaint: his knees might bruise.
Scott pulled back enough to say, “Okay if I get myself off during?”
Etho looked confused. “Go ahead?”
“Some people are weird about it,” Scott told him, with a shrug. He made sure to get his mouth back on Etho’s dick before he slipped a hand back underwater to touch himself. It made things easier.
Etho’s skin against his own was heated from the water. Scott normally liked to take his time when figuring out someone new, see what techniques elicited the most reaction from them, but nothing he did caused Etho to have much of any reaction at all. Scott tried going slower to see if Etho would try to hurry him up, but Etho just leaned back with his hands planted on the tile siding of the tub, like he was just there to enjoy the ride.
Annoying. It was so antithetical to anyone Scott had ever been with before—namely Jimmy, who was easy to rile up, and Martyn, who was just easy—that it was lucky that Scott liked a challenge. He probably couldn’t make it the best blowjob Etho had ever experienced—that would be his second try, if it happened, once he knew what made Etho tick—but landing within the top five was a reasonable expectation.
The hem of Etho’s jacket had been sitting in the water, Scott noted. It had darkened to a different shade of green. He kept his gaze on the damp fabric while he took Etho deeper, into his throat, focused on not choking; Etho said, “Woah, hey, don’t strain yourself,” in a tone almost akin to alarm.
Insulted, Scott slid backwards to concentrate on rubbing the flat of his tongue underneath the head of Etho’s dick. Etho still didn’t make any noise or offer any suggestions, but his cock twitched when Scott kept at it, which was reward enough. It was Etho’s loss if he didn’t prefer deepthroating.
For all he knew Etho and Bdubs were presumably fucking, Scott couldn’t really picture it. He’d made his general overtures when it became clear that Bdubs was a hanger-on, and Bdubs had seemed biddable; maybe, if Scott played his cards right, he’d get something even better out of it.
Maybe if it was just a really good blowjob.
“Ah,” Etho said; not a moan, but at least a noise. “Scott—”
Scott pulled off just long enough to say, “In my mouth, c’mon,” and then increased his pace.
“Oh. Okay,” Etho said. He sounded almost taken aback. He also didn’t immediately come in Scott’s mouth, which was more or less what Scott had been expecting, but it was just fine; Scott could pivot.
He went back to the shallower bobs of his head, bringing up his free hand to wrap around the base of Etho’s cock. Some people got uncomfortable with anything more, so Scott kept his hand there, a counterweight; if Etho wanted something additional, he could ask for it. Truthfully, Scott doubted Etho would ask for it.
It was several minutes later by Scott’s estimation when Etho made another noise, this one decidedly an awkward throat-clearing. “Scott,” he said.
Scott hummed in acknowledgement. He’d figured out that Etho liked, at the very least, when he took his time with it, which was fine; it had seemed contrary to Bdubs’s general demeanour, but then Scott had remembered that Etho had also been with Cleo, and it had clicked. It was still something Scott would have to remember to talk to Cleo about, if this was going to become a regular occurrence.
“Move your hand,” Etho said. Scott was genuinely surprised to be given an order, and doubly so when Etho didn’t wait for him to comply, just reached down and plucked Scott’s wrist away from him. Scott let his arm go limp in Etho’s grip and slackened his jaw, and Etho guided his dick out of Scott’s mouth so he could come on his tongue.
Scott kept his mouth open for a moment, in case Etho would appreciate the visual, then closed it and swallowed, mainly for ease of cleanup. Still that chlorinated taste from the water, but it wasn’t as though the normal taste of semen was particularly enjoyable on its own. He’d had to convince at least Jimmy to change his diet, and had less success with Martyn, but that just meant Martyn went without.
“Scott,” Etho started to say.
“Just gimme a bit,” Scott said.
He rested his chin on the sharp knob of Etho’s knee while he jerked himself off, fast, locking his jaw so he wouldn’t be tempted to open his mouth and bite something. He genuinely wasn’t expecting Etho to do anything, but after a moment one of Etho’s hands drifted cautiously over to the side of Scott’s face, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.
It was a strange sort of tenderness, but for some reason it made Scott feel as sharp and sparkling as if Etho had tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled. Or the same glittering pride he’d felt when Etho had complimented his work on the cabin earlier.
There was no avoiding the mess, but Scott automatically shifted his hand to cover the head of his dick when the rough friction of his palm and the water was too much. Etho’s fingers were still gently stroking through his hair. He’d never come like this in water before; it was an entirely new sensation. It burned through him. Fire spread, he remembered Etho saying.
And it reminded him of a moment earlier, when he’d looked up as the boat was rising and seen the night sky, the stars sparkling above him, tiny pinpricks of light shivering just out of reach. A chill had run through him. And then the boat had bobbed to the surface of the water column, and Etho was there, eyes crinkled at the corners, offering Scott a hand as he stepped out of the boat onto the low wall up in the sky.
Scott kept his cheek on Etho’s leg until he could breathe steadily again. Then he pushed himself up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then dropped his arm into the water again.
“The filter,” Etho said, mournful.
“I’ll deal with it later,” Scott sighed. “Besides, I’m sure Scar knew somebody was gonna fuck in the hot tub at some point.”
Etho made a slight noise of agreement. The most talkative Scott had heard him was earlier, when they were in the mines and Etho was telling him about his past experiences with torches and the necessity of working together, and Scott had been mostly occupied with actually trying to find resources. He’d not been ignoring Etho’s steady flow of commentary, though. Etho knew what he was doing, here. Etho would be good to have on his side in the long run, regardless of what happened with the rest of the team.
Scott had never been with someone so skittish. The closest point of comparison was when Martyn had been in one of his moods, but you could usually fuck that out of him. Etho just seemed too genuinely preoccupied with whatever was going on inside his own head to care much about anyone else.
“You know,” Scott said idly, “we don’t have to tell anyone. If you don’t want.”
“Hmm?”
“I won’t tell Bdubs if you don’t want me to, I mean.”
Etho’s eyes went wide. Scott only had a split-second flash of panic thinking he might have irrevocably put his foot in it before there was a loud banging on the door.
Both of them startled, although Etho far more visibly. Scott took a moment to curse himself for not thinking to bring any weapons to defend himself before deciding that Etho would certainly be armed and could protect him if need be, and then there was another volley of knocking at the door and Bdubs’s voice hollered, “Hey! You alive in there?”
“We’re fine!” Scott shouted back. He fumbled around behind him and managed to swipe his discarded shirt from the floor, where it had evidently been sitting in a cooling puddle of water, and did his best to wrestle it over his head. “Just a minute!”
The team meeting. Of course. Etho hadn’t moved to put his own clothes back on—it probably wouldn’t be realistically possible—but he was now on the opposite end of the hot tub, much lower in the water, not looking at Scott at all.
Scott’s heart was in his throat. If he’d genuinely fucked something up—if he’d caused a rift between Etho and Bdubs, somehow—if blowing Etho in the hot tub (which Etho had agreed to!) had been enough to make the two of them separate—and it had been Scott’s fault…
It sent a frisson of something hot and electric down his spine.
Everybody knew what Etho and Bdubs were like when they were together. Specifically, everybody knew what Bdubs was like (loud, irascible, easy to goad into doing something stupid) and everybody knew what Etho was like (past his prime). Except now they were in the era that had been Etho’s prime—and Scott still hadn’t quite processed how that was supposed to work exactly.
“You can come in,” Scott called. If he could get Etho on his side—and a moment later the door opened.
It was now fully dark outside, the fireflies long gone. Scott retreated to his corner of the hot tub while Bdubs removed his own clothes with abandon, then splashed his way into the tub to sit in the corner to the left of Scott. He leaned over, giving Scott a firm slap on the shoulder. “Hey, lover boy, I was givin’ you two some privacy—be polite, yeah? Sheesh.”
Scott’s gaze flitted automatically to Etho, whose eyes were happily slitted, watching the two of them. Rattled, and still feeling sort of like he was going to be yelled at, Scott said, “You—”
“Well obviously,” Bdubs said loudly. He released Scott’s shoulder and leaned out of the tub to call for Scar.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” said Scar’s voice, sounding flustered. “Keep your pants on! Well, maybe don’t keep your pants on, actually—”
For some reason it was only now that Scott could feel himself blushing, thinking about it. He didn’t know how long Bdubs had been waiting outside, but any amount of time was embarrassing enough for him to want to sink into the water and never emerge.
At least neither of them seemed properly upset about it. They were looking at each other with that private affection that married couples tended to have, but Scott wouldn’t have known anything about that, not any more at least. It didn’t seem like he’d ruined things, though. And Bdubs could be a good investment, if Etho wanted him. If Etho wanted him, Scott could grit his teeth and endure. He’d done it before for far worse things.
He really was going to have to talk to Cleo about it though.
“It’s fine,” Scott hastened to say, before Scar made it inside. “Maybe you can supervise next time.”
Of course he still couldn’t see Etho’s face behind the mask, but from the way his eyes softened Scott figured he was probably smiling.