A/N: So like two other people ship this so that means I have to write smut of it basically.
…Maybe there's one mime he'll keep around when he rules the earth.
Not like he makes these kinds of exceptions for everyone, it's just that there are some people that Jack Spicer realizes will be useful to him. Well, to be fair, the type of usefulness that "Le Mime" has fulfilled for him is a bit less than objectively necessary. Then again, objective views aren't quite supposed to include these types of things. Not that he cares! Who's going to care when he's the supreme ruler of the world, huh? No one, that's who.
So, when the mime plants a short kiss on his head in evident preparation for what is to come, it's obvious, and Jack suddenly gets it. I mean, he's never been an oblivious person when it came to social interaction, but one would have to admit that it's a bit harder when one of the two people in question have willingly taken a vow of silence as a job. But non-verbal communication goes a long way, and there's a point where the message has been received of exactly what he wants to do, what he wants to keep doing, thank you very much. Not only received, but opened, read, and totally understood. All clear on his end, mime freak.
On Jack's pale face is a clear blush and any sarcastic and teasing comment is conveyed straight through the other's smug facial expression. Well, he always looked smug, but still.
In between his sharp teeth, he bit down on the cloth. Something about the whole "feeling what your partner is feeling" is really horribly turning him on in a way that makes his stomach drop and he can actually kind of feel the acid threatening to crawl up, but the feeling's a little bit blocked by the his light-headedness and his nails digging into the wall of his lab and the silent mime currently working him up to an orgasm.
Not a moan, not even a whimper, and when the silent offender takes Jack's cock completely into his throat, the only sound is Jack's muffled scream, and now he feels really pathetic and stupid and angry all at the same time at the goddamn mime for not making one little noise after all of that. And he just feels more and more irritated as he's driven mad with pleasure, glaring down at his former evil partner with detest and inexplicable lust, face more flushed than others' with normal skin colors would have been.
Even when he tenses up and groans lowly as he cums, he's aggravated and exhausted, tugging hard at the mime's hair. As per-fuckin-usual, there's no verbal response.