#a couple series - some halloween prep yknow

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 17 ✨🚀

[5.4k words, 20min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - Jisung x Fem. Reader - NSFW/Smut - Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hooking Up, Navigating Feelings, Platonic(?) Intimacy, Ominous Plot Hints, Reader has a Another Terrible Idea, We Have to Figure Out What to Do on Sentury Station, Dressing Up, Crumbs of Backstory, Who the Hell Knows What Minho is Thinking, Chan is Not Completely a Dick?, Always Check the Tags]

[Author's Note: This is the end of season 2! Stay tuned for polls and updates about the series. Thanks as always for coming along for the ride! 💕]

[Author's Note #2: This episode is late! Voting closes on Saturday, 10 pm PST]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

You were frustrated, hungry, and disappointed.

And confused.

Because the disappointment didn’t feel just like disappointment. Maybe you felt a little heartbroken, finding out that you were likely never going to see Seungmin again after his negotiations at Sentury.

But for now, you were hungry.

You surveyed the kitchen, hoping to see if Jeongin had left a plate out for you. Finding none, you checked the warmer. There was a plate inside, but it’d been picked clean, leaving a sad corpse of dinnerware covered in crumbs. Dejected, you grabbed an energy bar and nibbled on it while you walked back to your cabin.

In the cool air of the workshop, Felix was reclined in the hammock set up by the workbench, hanging all the way down from the catwalk. Changbin was preoccupied tuning up the four-wheeler. Someone, at some point, had written “PLACE FELIX HERE” in the middle of a circle on the cargo basket, the permanent marker ink shiny in the overhead lamps.

Just when you thought you’d slink by, letting the duo go about their business in peace, Felix’s smooth voice made you pause.

“You excited to go to the Station?”

When you turned back around, Changbin was chuckling and shaking his head. “You know it’s only folks who’ve never been that are excited to go,” he teased Felix.

The ranger’s giggle was deep, comforting despite being foreboding. He lazily kicked his feet where they hung over the side of the hammock. “Doesn’t mean she can’t be excited to dock tonight. She’s never been, after all.”

You hopped up to sit on the workbench. From here, you could see Felix looked a little bashful, maybe surprised that he and Changbin were back to bantering. But your confusion multiplied.

“Wait,” you shook your head, “tonight? I thought we were docking tomorrow!”

Felix and Changbin looked at each other, and then at you. The blonde pointed to another digital screen, like the one in the galley, this one on the wall by the door back out to the common area. Sure enough, the time and date had changed to Galactic Standard. The ship must’ve passed a Federation satellite at some point. 

You were internally screaming, but you tried to remain calm on the outside. “Well,” you heavily sighed. “I’m not even sure what to expect at Sentury. All I know is the Station is huge and there’s some casinos.”

“Some casinos?!” Changbin roared out a laugh, popping his head out from where it was focused on the four-wheeler’s engine. “There’s dozens of casinos at Sentury, maybe even a hundred. You’ll find some of the best gambling of your life there.”

“It was our home base for a few months,” Felix clarified. “Some great nightlife there, if you’re into that. They don’t even follow a day-night cycle, so you’ll run into folks out having a good time or the worst night of their life at all hours.”

You somewhat recalled this, that Felix and Changbin were a team before joining Chan. Something about Changbin rigging slot machines and Felix shaking down tourists and high rollers.

“Well I’m excited to go,” Changbin snickered to himself. “Always something going on. We just have to finish prepping first.”

The urge to share everything that had gone down was nagging at you. Felix and Changbin were clearly experts on Sentury, but you were more than a little wary of how eager Changbin was to cause some ruckus, apparently. 

“Do you need any help?” you cautiously asked. “Preparing, that is.”

A soft sigh could be heard from the hammock. “I still have to do inventory and secure the lockers,” Felix explained. “Anything bigger than a blaster needs to be deactivated or emptied before we disembark. I don’t think we need any help–”

“Or,” Changbin stiffly cut in, “maybe you could ask Nova to do the thing.”

“The thing?” you repeated.

Felix’s blonde head peeked out from the hammock. “Chan just asked if I could grab a trunk we nabbed from Floree Outpost out of the cargo hold. You don’t want to–”

“Sure!” you instantly nodded before you hopped off the workbench. “It’s no problem at all.” You could sense Changbin’s concern over Felix, and what could it hurt? There wasn’t anything to do before docking tonight.

You strode over to the mini-lift down to the cargo hold in the workshop, hearing your racing heart booming in your chest while you descended.

Tonight.

All this groundwork you wanted to do had to be done as soon as possible.

You punched the button for the lights when the lift hit the ground. The cargo hold was still an indecipherable mess in your eyes. If there was any method to the madness, you’d yet to find it. You entered the winding labyrinth of crates and boxes, trying to figure out what the hell you were looking for when you came across your old boots.

They smelled like your old apartment, something you never even considered to have a smell before.

What had it been, a week? A very long, exciting, terrifying week?

It felt like you’d been away from T’kaarm for decades.

“Looking for something?” came a voice, making you look up from the maze of cargo.

Hyunjin was leaning out of his cabin from under the stairs. You waved in greeting although you weren’t quite sure why, but Hyunjin waved back.

“A trunk? Apparently?” you asked. “From Floree Outpost?”

The appraiser nodded dutifully and made a bee-line down a path of crates. You could somewhat see him moving things out of the way, shuffling items around before he came up with a giant foot locker. The thing was gaudy, shiny magenta with gold curlicues decorating it and brass hardware. A large combo lock was on the side handle.

“Exciting,” Hyunjin laughed. “If Chan wants this, something interesting must be going on. Been hearing funny stuff about Sentury lately.”

There was that nagging feeling again, but just like with Changbin, Hyunjin came with his own risks. The appraiser was way too gossipy for your preference to ask for his help, even if he knew just about everything.

“You excited to go for the first time?” Hyunjin asked, leaning on a pile of crates.

“Er, I think so,” you waffled. “I hear there’s great night life.”

Hyunjin let out a guffaw, his laugh bright and airy. “Who told you that? Felix?”

You sheepishly nodded before Hyunjin walked back in the direction of his cabin, waving you over after him. “I love those two, him and Changbin.” Hyunjin picked up his tablet and typed something in before presenting it to you. On the screen were two mugshots: Felix, having the time of his life with a big grin on his face, and Changbin, quietly proud and giving a dazzling smolder for the camera. 

Some time had clearly passed since then. Felix’s hair was a daring shade of blue, while Changbin’s was a cute chestnut brown. Felix even had some cute extra piercings and a large love bite on his throat, while Changbin was apparently hiding all sorts of tattoos under his long-sleeve shirts if the mugshot was anything to go by.

“Look at ‘em,” Hyunjin cooed. “Felix is blacklisted from practically half the clubs and bars in Sentury, and Changbin’s not even allowed on a casino floor. Any of them.”

“Shouldn’t they have made bank then?” you wondered out loud.

Hyunjin shook his head. “They didn’t hit all these establishments, mind you, they just created enough of a reputation to become a preemptive issue. Keep a close eye on them when we disembark, and if anyone asks where they are–”

“I don’t know anything,” you innocently raised your hands. 

“Exactly,” praised Hyunjin while he looked at his wristwatch. “Now come on; it’s almost time for dinner.”

You spied the time he was looking at. “Dinner?! It was just breakfast!”

“A good crewmate is hungry when the clock says to be,” Hyunjin chided. “Much to learn, rookie.”

You sighed and returned to the trunk to haul it upstairs, fully prepared to drag it over to the lift before you realized that it was actually surprisingly light. It was difficult to figure out what was inside the foot locker; nothing was rattling inside. The most awkward part of getting it up to the common area was simply the size of the thing, trying to maneuver it up the tight staircase. You had to admit, you were still hungry.

Something smelled amazing when you got up to the galley, and you dropped the trunk by the booth before heading into the kitchen. It appeared that Jeongin was finishing getting everything set.

“Looks good, chef,” you complimented, peeking over his shoulder to the stew he had going on the stove.

“Thanks,” he humbly replied. “I’m getting more comfortable not having Felix right here to help me.”

You raised a curious eyebrow. “Didn’t do much cooking before this?”

Jeongin shook his head. “Never got a chance to learn, so Felix has been teaching me.”

“You’re doing great,” you reassured him.

“Excited to go to Sentury?” the cabin boy asked. “I’m a little nervous, honestly.”

“What?” you involuntarily laughed. “You’ve never been?!”

“No!” Jeongin laughed back, his eyes turning up into charming crescents. “Last time we passed through, Chan refused to let me go, ‘for my own good,’ he said.”

Internally, and although you’d never admit it, you commended the captain a little bit for that one.

“It’s funny,” Jeongin continued, “Lee told me something similar recently, like, when he was still in the brig. He said I should be getting off the ship and exploring as much as possible, also ‘for my own good’.”

“Is that what made you look for Jisung back on Phaborus?” you smirked. He simply nodded in return. “And were you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted. “I know it makes me sound like a pussy, but just a little.”

“Nonsense,” you shook your head resolutely. “Doing shit when you’re nervous helps you to not be nervous the next time.”

The cabin boy smiled again, softening his sharp features, but the mention of Minho turned the wheels in your head. It felt a little selfish, but it was worth trying when you had a chance.

“Want help? I can take Minho’s food to him.”

“Sure!” Jeongin brightly agreed. “Gives me a chance to eat. Do you remember the combo?”

He asked as if you ever knew. When you shook your head, he dug in his pocket and fished out a keycard, just like the one Chan had given you. You tried not to squeal in excitement when you quickly fixed a bowl for Minho and rushed off.

Thoughts were racing through your head before you stumbled into the workshop, apparently interrupting something when you heard Felix curse from the loft. He and Changbin ducked down behind the couch, and you surreptitiously ran into the alcove between your and Minho’s cabins. You took a moment, though, pausing to make sure you had a game plan, a stance you were actually holding.

It sucked to think that Minho set you up.

Largely, you admitted to yourself, because the idea was ridiculous. In order for that to happen, Minho had to have made sure the ring not only made it to you in the first place, but that you would make it onto the ship. Yes, it was convenient that the crew got the lead, picked up Minho, and then picked you up, and you had it – but it was only that. Convenient. And conveniences did happen, you reminded yourself. 

You beeped open Minho’s door to find him examining his stubble in the mirror again, but not the one on his closet door. He was sat on the windowsill. Someone, at some point, had not only brought Minho a change of clothes, but a hand mirror and a razor. He looked comfy and refreshed in some cargo pants and a hoodie.

“Remind me what you said about facial hair the other day?” you nonchalantly asked. You helped yourself to a bite of food from his bowl, marveling for a second that Jeongin did do a good job.

“Dunno,” Minho shrugged, “but I miss growing it. When was the last time that you saw a Marine with a beard?”

You shrugged back. Actually, you don’t think you’d ever seen a member of the Federation military with facial hair. Minho cleaned off his razor in a cup of water at his side. 

“That’s because,” he continued, pulling the skin on his chin taut, “they neutralize the follicles on your face in orientation. Hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s supposed to enforce dress code. Takes some folks years to grow it reliably again. I’m still patchy as hell.”

You watched Minho shave for a little bit, lamenting that it maybe was somewhat attractive.

But you wanted to calm that relentless thought in your mind.

“Hey,” you bluntly changed the subject, “my Clessorian ring. Did you know about it before I came aboard? Like, did you know it was on T’kaarm?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Minho staunchly answered.

“Was it ever in your possession?”

Minho rinsed his razor in the water cup beside him and patted his chin dry with his hoodie. “Sure was,” he nodded. “You done eating my food?”

You swallowed your spoonful of stew before handing the bowl to him. “And what did you do with the ring?”

The bounty met your gaze but it was hard to read. “I got rid of it. Too much trouble. You excited to go to the Station?”

This was a satisfying enough answer for you. You walked back to the door. “Not really,” you shrugged. 

“Smart girl,” he praised. “I knew I liked you.”

Minho was giving you an odd look. You pointed at the bowl in his hands. “Your food’s getting cold,” you told him, before you promptly left.

The loft was empty, the workshop was empty, and the galley was empty when you entered it. You scarfed down a quick bite to eat before you crept upstairs. The boys were all assembled in the back of the bridge, with the trunk from Floree Outpost at the center. Hyunjin, Changbin, and Felix were all squished together on the couch. Chan sat at his console. You could hear faint music from the nav office, implying Seungmin was busily at work inside. Mysteriously, Jeongin and Jisung were nowhere to be seen.

Beyond the front window, a gargantuan, revolving, metal mass of a space station could be seen in the distance. This had to be Sentury.

“Enough bullshit,” Changbin ribbed. “We finally get to see what’s in this thing?” The mechanic pointed at the trunk.

Meanwhile, Chan pointed at you.

“It’s for Nova,” he cryptically explained. He tried the combo once before he broke the cheap lock with his bionic hand. Inside the tacky trunk was a tangle of fabric, all shiny and satiny textiles. The captain pulled out a couple items, revealing them to be showy dresses, the kind you’d wear to nightclubs.

Well, not you, but the kind that you could wear. 

Chan plonked the dresses into your hands. You scanned the room, confused, and caught Seungmin peeking from the nav office.

The crew were tittering and giggling. “So,” Hyunjin grinned, “it’s true about Sentury, then?”

“Is what true?!” you demanded.

The captain waved a dismissive hand at you, and then at the peanut gallery. “So we grabbed this trunk off a couple resort hostesses back on Floree Outpost,” he flippantly explained. “Pick one or two outfits you like, just to last you until you find something at the Station. And you’ll need to name an escort from the crew.”

“Excuse me?” you gawked, your arms limp in front of you.

“That’s new,” grumbled Changbin. He dug in his pocket, counted a couple credits, and placed them in Hyunjin’s waiting hand, having apparently lost some wager.

You spiked the dresses at Chan’s face. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on? What’s with the dresses? Why do I need an escort?!”

“It’s fine, babe,” Felix soothed you. You and Chan both turned to face him. “This happens sometimes with regime changes. Whoever runs the Entertainment Bureau gets to make the rules. One time, the Director was super into bikes so everyone was big on street racing for a bit, you know?”

“Okay, sure,” you huffed. “But what changed for there to be assigned escorts now?”

Chan mumbled something and you whipped around to look at him again. He met your eye and reluctantly began explaining. “From what I gather, the Director must have one hell of a crew of dancers or hostesses or something because ladies have preference on the Station. Their own security checkpoints, their own transports, their own reserved sections in bars, clubs, even casinos–”

“And still no decent shopping, I bet,” Felix complained. Changbin and Hyunjin nodded in agreement. 

The captain shot the three a look, gaining their silence before continuing. “The escorts have been used before, when valuable cargo was moving through Sentury. It’s basically naming your one trusted contact. If you have this escort around, they’re permitted with you, no questions asked. If someone’s with you who isn’t your escort, they can be separated from you at any time.”

“And what if I don’t name one?” you asked.

“Apparently,” he began, “one will be assigned to you. From our crew or from the Station, I don’t know which. On the flip, I’ve actually heard of cases where an escort isn’t even named, but instead a crew member is indicted. Can you fucking imagine? Even a whole crew one time, holy shit.’

“Maybe they deserved it,” Felix shrugged.

The captain and the ranger began bickering while you regarded the dresses in the trunk. Not to be that person, but you never really had the occasion to dress up back home. You sneakily pawed through the trunk while the boys were busy arguing, sort of indulging and taking a look. One little number did catch your eye, a slinky, shimmery, champagne-hued dress. 

“Is that the one?” Chan asked, almost warmly, but catching you off-guard nonetheless. “Try it on!”

“Now?” you whined. 

“He has a point, love,” Changbin admitted. “Don’t want you looking frumpy when we disembark. We can make adjustments but we can’t do magic.”

“Fine,” you huffed, ready to turn heel down the stairs. 

“Oh my god,” the captain grumbled, “just try it on here, you prude. None of us are looking, no one is gonna care.”

You were this close to tearing Chan a new asshole, breaking his knees based on principle alone… but he sort of had a point. He’d said you were part of the crew. The crew all lived in these tight quarters, seeing each other in various states of undress on regular occasions – why shouldn’t you act like part of the crew?

“Whatever,” you relented. “But if I hear one catcall, it’s gonna be a bloodbath.”

“Such big talk coming from you,” Hyunjin giggled, sliding off the couch and looking through the trunk himself. Changbin and Felix were reading something on the appraiser’s tablet. Chan even had his hands over his eyes, rich coming from the one man present who’d seen you naked.

Regardless, you were modest about it. You turned around, swiftly slipping off your shirt and pulling on the dress, finding just enough stretch in the fabric to fit around your shoulders and hug you around your waist. Then you tugged off your bottoms, yanking them over your sneakers. You turned back around, admitting to yourself that you felt really good in the garment – when you noticed Seungmin staring. His cheeks rouged immediately, his face going pink when he tried to look busy and not like he was just watching you change.

The boys all turned their attention to you when they no longer heard your clothes shuffling. Chan looked you up and down but didn’t say a word, while Felix and Changbin nodded their approval. Hyunjin, meanwhile, nudged your hip with a pair of high heels from where he was digging in the trunk. Once again, they were in your size despite never confirming it for him. 

“Oh, no,” you refused, “I’m not ready for that.”

“Then practice, you maniac,” Chan complained, taking the heels from Hyunjin and pressing them into your hands. You scooped up your clothes from the floor. “Go practice, make sure you’re presentable, and pick an escort,” the captain directed.

You sighed hot into your chest as you defeatedly nodded, turning so you could head down the stairs. 

This was a lot to take in all at once. 

Just like you’d considered who to conspire on Jisung’s lead with, now you were wondering who to name as your escort. They’d have unquestioned permission to accompany you. 

Did that mean you could force someone to help you?

Like… if you named Seungmin?

Or you could even indict someone, apparently.

Could you even… name Minho as your escort? 

That’d probably make Chan snap. Hilarious.

A rush of footsteps in the stairwell startled you, and you turned to see Hyunjin jogging down to the galley. He held out an equally gaudy train case he must’ve found in the trunk.

“Chan, that idiot,” Hyunjin smirked, “he didn’t think to give you these.” He opened the case, revealing a mess of costume jewelry, hair clips, and makeup. He then produced a small clutch purse from under his arm and held it out in his other hand. “You’re going to look amazing. Don’t overthink it.”

The appraiser pushed the case into the growing pile in your hands before heading back down the stairs to his room in the cargo hold. You were left alone with a lot to figure out. Dazed, you walked back to your cabin, lost in thought – when you ran face first into Jisung, leaving his room. He looked particularly cozy today, with a tank top and some shorts, with a backwards baseball cap holding his fringe back. It was still taking some adjusting to see him without the eyepatch. 

The pilot looked thoroughly caught, his eyes wide and his face paling, which interested you until his eyes shifted down from yours, down your collarbones and onto the dress.

“I, uhm,” you struggled to explain, “I have to name an escort.”

Jisung’s eyes lit up and he pumped his fist a little. “Fuck yes,” he cursed in celebration. “I fucking told Changbin. But… are you going to disembark? Like that?”

The look you gave must’ve been brutal with how Jisung clammed up. It didn’t help that, following your criteria, you were still pissed at him. “Er, I mean,” he babbled, reaching forward and brushing a tendril of your hair out of your face. “I just think you can do something nice, really look the part, you know?”

You continued to stare, confused. Jisung sighed helplessly and grabbed your elbow, herding you into his cabin and closing the door. He sat you down at his desk, where he had a small standing mirror that you could see yourself in. The pilot brushed his fingers through your hair, a bizarrely soothing sensation, and began parting it and sweeping your hair in different directions. When you were about to ask him what the hell he was up to, he pointed at the train case.

“What’s in there?”

Instead of answering, you simply clicked open the case and gestured for him to take a look. Jisung peered inside, stroking his chin, and then picked out a couple pins before grabbing a hairbrush. Now you could no longer hold back the question you were dying to ask.

“Jisung,” you pestered, reaching back and grabbing his hand, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“I dated a couple dancers before,” he shrugged. “You pick up a thing or two. And you deserve to look nice, don’t you think?”

Stunned wasn’t exactly the right word here, but it’s what came to mind. Jisung whipped your hair up into a casual updo with some loose tendrils framing your face, and then dug into the train case. He held up a few options before holding up two sets of simple earrings for you. When you picked the modest golden hoops, he grabbed a matching bracelet and slipped it on your wrist. You sat still when he applied some light makeup, adding just a little drama to your eyes and a hint of shimmering highlight. 

It was ridiculous, how your heart skipped a beat when you looked in the mirror. 

You reminded yourself to stay pissed at Jisung.

“Alright,” he nodded approvingly. “Now the heels.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you stubbornly shook your head. “I haven’t worn heels in years–”

“It’s like riding a bike!” Jisung refuted. “Besides, look at these. Wide platform, ankle strap, chunky heel – you’re going to be perfectly fine. May I?”

You swallowed hard when Jisung knelt down and spun you in his desk chair so you were facing him. He pulled off your ratty sneakers and delicately slipped your right foot into the shoe before buckling the ankle strap, and then repeated the process with the left. Jisung’s gaze felt piercing when he looked up at you, and you caught yourself feeling all vulnerable again. He got up to his feet and stepped back.

“Well?” he asked. “Is it true? You can’t walk in heels?”

A small sigh escaped your lips before you got up.

You took a confident step forward–

But you over thought it. Your weight shifted weirdly, sending you stumbling over your own feet and into Jisung’s quick arms, where he awkwardly caught you but shifted you over so it looked more like he was dipping you during a waltz.

You blinked at him, haloed by the lamp in his room. “It’s too bad I’m still mad at you,” you joked halfheartedly, “because that was pretty smooth.”

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded, a little dazed. “It’s a good thing you’re still mad at me, because you look amazing.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to crack a lighthearted smile, “I just got my hair done.”

In a moment of terror, you realized that Jisung was leaning in towards you, and you pushed a hand into his face, smushing him back and off of you until you were properly standing up on your feet again.

You were both a little out of breath. “You, er,” you fumbled, “you didn’t formally pitch a plan to me yet, remember?”

“You’re right,” Jisung agreed, nodding and taking your hand in his. The tension was ballooning in your chest. “Can I talk to you?”

Your chin dipped in a weak nod while you leaned back to sit against Jisung’s desk, but he followed you, stepping between your knees. The following minutes were dead silent. Jisung tentatively kissed your cheek, which you permitted. He then brazenly slid his arms around your waist, and you gasped when he kissed your neck.

“I wanted to see if you’re interested in a plan of mine,” Jisung explained into your skin, his voice breathy and needy. 

“Yeah?” you replied, way too into this already. Your breath hitched when his teeth grazed your pulse.

“I know a guy, at the place I mentioned, Sunrise Casino–”

“How many guys do you know?” you teased. Jisung’s fingertips pressed tough into your waist, despite his muffled chuckle.

“I know a guy, okay?” he repeated. “He just works a door, but he’s a guy. And I haven’t heard from him in weeks–”

Jisung exclaimed as you grabbed onto his tank top, reeling him in and kissing him properly. He melted into you then, spreading your knees so he could slide between them. His fingertips found their way down below your waist, and you hissed out a curse when you felt him tease his touch inside of you. 

“Okay,” you breathlessly nodded while you pushed his shorts down under his erection, “so you haven’t heard from your guy. What then?”

You gasped into Jisung’s mouth when he kissed you again, his tongue hotly writhing against yours while he pulled his fingers out to massage the tip of his hard length against your entrance.

“What then, Jisung?” you repeated, teasing him to keep up with your little game. He sank into you then, pulling a full-bodied moan out of both of you.

“Then,” he groaned, “that means I have to rely on the one other guy I have at the moment, a jewelry dealer. He should have some direction for us to go and try to find the safety deposit box while we try to build some contacts on the inside, grease some palms and gather some intel– oh fuck–”

Jisung shuddered, getting a little distracted fucking you in earnest on his desk. He thrust into you hard, almost grinding his hips into you so he could really rub into your sweet spot. You kissed down his neck, sucking a little love bite into his collarbones. His eyes were squeezed shut, savoring the sensation of your walls enveloping his cock, and you reached up, cupping his face and encouraging him to watch you.

“Come on, tell me the rest,” you urged.

“Then, once we get a solid lead on the whereabouts of the payload,” Jisung panted, “we’ll have to decide if it’s smarter to go after it ourselves or try to make a deal–”

“That is the simplest, most run-of-the-mill plan I’ve ever heard,” you giggled, but cried out when Jisung kissed you hard again.

“It’s harder when I don’t have a guy, okay?” whined Jisung. “I gotta start all over again, do some groundwork–”

“Then I can help you,” you offered, whimpering when Jisung started pounding into you at just the right angle.

“Then I did it?” he asked eagerly. “You’re not pissed at me anymore?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m not pissed at you anymore, just make me cum, holy shit–”

Jisung nodded obediently, desperately grasping onto your hips and consistently thrusting into you at a steady enough rhythm. Almost risking ruining it, he sucked a thumb into his mouth before leaning you back and caressing your clit. You tensed then, grabbing onto his arm and crying out when you hit your climax. You were seeing spots, you finished so hard. Jisung came a moment afterwards, pulsing inside of you and practically collapsing, limp, on top of you where you were uncomfortably half-reclined on his desk.

The two of you took a minute to catch your breath, with Jisung’s lips buried in your neck and tickling you when he breathed. At some point, his ball cap fell off, and your hands ran through his hair and massaged the back of his neck.

“I guess that just means you need to name an escort then,” he mumbled against your skin. 

Even though you were dazed, you still tried to consider this.

But you were still seeing spots.

Well, no you weren’t. 

You saw a spot.

A light. On Jisung’s talk box by the door. 

Someone was listening to you.

Your eyes widened in horror at this realization, but you kept this to yourself. 

You were landing soon, and you needed to name an escort.

And some asshole was spying on your conversation.

You considered your options again. Jisung was an obvious choice, but it made sense to widen your resource pool. There was Seungmin, obviously. Even though he had business on the Station, maybe he’d actually help you if you named him. There was also Hyunjin, who was a clear wealth of knowledge despite being a gossip. You even humored the idea of naming Jeongin, who was green enough that you knew he’d help you with little to no arguing. Chan was an option as well, you supposed. He had skills and experience, and maybe naming him would help you keep a close eye on him. And there was Minho, obviously, a delightfully funny idea that’d stun you if it actually worked. Getting Minho’s help and getting him out of his cabin? Who knew what that would get you. And, of course, that left Felix and Changbin. A duo that already had a valuable reputation on Sentury, and knew the ins and outs better than the whole crew, most likely. Even though they’d hardly be able to accompany you anywhere, you considered that you could accompany them wherever you wanted. You wondered, for a brief moment, if you could name two escorts.

Sentury Station wasn’t too far off by now. All that you had left to do was choose who to name.