❝When the violence causes silence,

We must be mistaken.❞

NSFW? 🔀

Art by: L3o-draws

A/N: We are far from sober rn, 3 days without sleep and drunk asf but we're horny so it.

Contents:

, , Hot-tub , , public , coming in pants/swimming trunks

The steam clung to Tango’s skin like wet cloth, pressing in on every inch of him. The hot tub bubbled lazily, foam breaking the surface in bursts that seemed too loud, too pointed, as though mocking how still he sat. The water was scalding in that way that felt good at first, then unbearable the longer it held you. His chest rose and fell faster than he wanted, betraying him. The others hadn’t noticed yet— Etho leaning back with half-lidded eyes, Scott laughing at something, and Bdubs talking too fast and too loud as always. Normal. Easy.

But Tango was anything but easy.

The pressure had been building for hours. He’d ignored it at first, convinced he could make it until they were done hanging out, until he could excuse himself without raising eyebrows. But time in the water felt different. Five minutes stretched, warped. The heat pulled at him, loosening every muscle that he’d tried to keep clamped tight. He pressed his thighs together under the froth, fingers dug into the bench at his sides, nails whitening with the effort.

Don’t think about it.

But his body refused to obey. Each bubbling churn of the jets vibrated against him, impossible to ignore. His pulse drummed at his temples. The ache in his lower belly had become sharp and insistent, stabbing each time he shifted even slightly. He forced himself to smile when Scott’s laugh grew loud and forced himself to breathe evenly when Bdubs splashed a little too close. Every second became its own battle.

Etho cracked one eye open, lazy and half-amused. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice carrying easily over the hum of the water.

Tango’s throat was dry. He swallowed hard, hoping that would be enough to explain the tightness in his jaw. “Just... zoning out,” he muttered and tried to make his lips curl upward. The heat in his cheeks wasn’t entirely from the steam.

They bought it. Or at least they didn’t press. The conversation rolled on, and Tango curled further inward, shoulders hunched, trying to make himself small. The water lapped against his chest and collarbones, uncomfortably hot, sweat trickling down his hairline. His whole body screamed at him to move, to get up, to excuse himself— but the thought of doing so, of climbing out and breaking the easy camaraderie, was unbearable in its own way. He could already hear Bdubs’s teasing voice in his head. He could already feel the spotlight on him, and that fear locked him tighter than the pain.

He pressed his tongue hard against his teeth. Just wait. Just a little longer.

The bubbling seemed louder now, roaring in his ears, a cruel echo of what he couldn’t let happen. The air above the water was thick and smothering, filling his lungs with heavy steam that made his head swim. His body trembled under the surface, ripples giving away the effort it took to keep still. He hoped the others were too busy laughing, too busy enjoying themselves, to notice how rigid he’d gone.

Time slowed. His thoughts fractured into jagged bursts. He thought about leaving. He thought about standing, water sheeting off him, and every eye turning to watch. He thought about failing, about the humiliation that would burn hotter than the tub. His chest constricted. He couldn’t tell if the sharpness in his stomach was from the heat, from panic, or from the pressure crushing down.

Scott leaned back, sighing with contentment, arms draped over the edges like he had no weight in the world. Bdubs had started another story, animated, gesturing, splashing again. Etho chuckled low in his throat. All of them at ease. And Tango— Tango sat rigid among them, blood roaring, face burning, heartbeat out of control.

The jets kicked up again, stronger this time, a rush of water against his side. It was too much. His body jolted in reflex, a twitch he couldn’t hide. He ducked his head immediately, feigning adjustment, praying the steam covered the way his shoulders shook.

No one noticed. Not yet.

...hnn

there needs to be more OMO bots so bad especially of Past Life. Theres so many options and choices man