FIC: Mutually Beneficial [Clu 2/Shaddox]
Title: Mutually Beneficial
Author: crows_queen
Fandom: TRON (Betrayal era)
Pairing: CLU 2/Shaddox
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Masturbation, circuit sex
Wordcount: 1538
Disclaimer: The characters? Not mine. It was all a labor of love. I'm just making action figures hump in someone else's sandbox.
Feedback: Very welcome!
Summary: It isn't love. But it's better than nothing, and it's the closest thing they've got.
Author's Note: This is my first complete TRON fic, hell, the first thing I've really written in a long damn time. Be gentle with me.
I'm honestly not sure where this came from. I was talking with a friend about Tron/Shaddox and the woeful lack of Shaddox anything, when my brain suddenly decided that it wanted good!Clu/Shaddox, and then without warning I was vomiting words, yo. And sleep was totally not an option until this was finished.
Tron City is never quiet. Night and day, those are User concepts and have little place or purpose on the Grid, where life goes on uninterrupted save by personal schedules.
Some have far fewer interruptions than most; at least, interruptions of a personal nature. Clu never seems to stop working, even when he's alone and his aides and System Utilities have left. When he makes appearances at the Games it's always in the name of public relations, when he indulges in a ride on his light cycle there's always some duty that he attaches to excuse the trip.
All too often, when he thinks that no one is looking, Clu looks weary. Programs do not sleep, but Clu constantly pushes the boundaries of remaining operational without giving his circuits a break, without rebooting or at least going on standby for a millicycle.
Shaddox wonders whether or not the program would ever rest if he didn't intervene. Strictly speaking, his functions do not call for him to assist as much as he does. But it is not his functions alone that drive him to put a hand on Clu's shoulder and give it a squeeze before looking pointedly toward the elevator leading to the floors above. An invitation for the Sysadmin to take a break from his work, however brief.
No, he's become emotionally invested. Shaddox is certain that Clu knows, but the Master program never makes any mention of it. His System Utility is grateful, because that is a discussion that he does not have words for. As far as Clu is concerned, it is the concern of an assistant for the well-being of a superior, or of a friend for a friend, and Shaddox never pushes him any deeper than that. He knows full well that Clu is intrinsically bound to one person only, his User and Creator, and that no matter what they do his friend's heart will always be elsewhere.
Still, no matter how much he might protest at the disruption of his schedule or routine, Clu always rises and follows.
They stand side by side as the elevator carries them up to the floor that houses Clu's apartments, spacious and well-appointed but almost never occupied; Shaddox thinks that they must look much like they do when on duty, overlooking the city as they discuss construction and data flow and resource allocation, except that during these times there are no words or looks exchanged. When the doors open and they step out into the dark room, the lights never respond and they make their way to Clu's bedroom in that same darkness. For all that times that he's been to Clu's private sanctuary, Shaddox has never seen more than that narrow swath, never explored beyond what the glow of his circuits will immediately light.
The bedroom is the most familiar. It doesn't occur to Shaddox to ask why Clu even has a bedroom, or a bed. They stand next to it as Shaddox derezzes his light suit and Clu does away with his leather pants and boots, his t-shirt and jacket. The underwear is the last to go, and then they move toward each other. Clu runs hot, and Shaddox can feel his heat even with space between them. He's usually the one that moves first because Clu always seems simultaneously willing and hesitant. He reaches out and drags his fingers over Clu's skin, avoiding the bold circuits for the moment because the reactions he gets from this alone are always favorable. He flicks at his friend's nipples and trails a finger down his chest and stomach to dip into his navel. Clu always shivers, when Shaddox teases the tender flesh around the odd little feature.
In his turn, the Sysadmin's hands find his Utility's hot spots. Unlike Shaddox, he does not avoid the circuits that cut across the other program's dark skin, though he never focuses solely on them, either. Clu's energy is unlike anyone else's, unique to the Programmer, powerful and heady, born of a User and coding both. Only when Shaddox begins to groan and go weak in the knees does Clu guide him down onto the bed, where they lie pressed close atop the thick black comforter, silky smooth against bare flesh.
There is little delay after that. They do not explore each other. They only come together for a common purpose, remain that way only until it's been met. And Shaddox is content with this, because he is the one in Clu's bed and the one that the program trusts regarding such a personal matter.
They've never once kissed, but as their bodies come together it's almost like they're doing what the pair's lips have not.
Clu instinctively knows how to pleasure another program. Fingers drag along purple-flushed circuitry and a hot mouth follows in their wake, kissing and licking and biting until light pulses in the darkness and groans break the silence. A hand finds its way to the other's legs, cupping over the sexless curve of flesh between them. Clu is Flynn's Sysadmin and knows that he was specially made, that he was made different from the others. He knows, too, that what lies between their legs is just as sensitive as what lies between his, a dense concentration of hidden circuitry that can turn even the most stoic program into a writhing, pleading mess.
Shaddox is not programmed with any knowledge about how to pleasure a User, or a program patterned off of one, but he's proved to be a fast learner for someone whose database included no information on the subject. He caresses the thick, angular lines that trace over the other's body, and his touch is more sensual where Clu's seems detached and almost business-like at times. Shaddox can't fault him for that, because Clu wasn't made for this and hasn't had anyone to teach him differently. No one has showed him how to reconcile his duties and ultimate purpose with his very human need for intimacy and companionship.
Eventually, his hand reaches the coarse brown hair at his superior's groin, and then the hot, straining flesh that rises from it. He's seen Clu's cock enough by now for it not to be startling anymore, and the fingers he wraps around it aren't the least bit hesitant. Clu's hips buck in response and he hisses, and Shaddox feels a slick wetness that aids the familiar, comfortable rhythm of his hand. Then he stops thinking because the other program is rubbing and squeezing at the circuits between his legs and oh, his hand is big and hot and the sheer power the Sysadmin holds only makes it that much more intense.
It never takes them very long, once they get that far. Their free hands caress burning purple pathways, the others never stopping in their movements. Clu rubs and presses between Shaddox's legs and mouths at the little circuits on his chest, lets his own press against the long ones running over Shaddox's shoulders and arms until the other program writhes, stiffens as the air around him crackles with released energy as he flares. For his part, Shaddox strokes Clu's big cock easily from root to tip and then back down; he teases the program's balls but always comes back to the thick shaft above. When he feels Clu start to shake and hears the big program's breath become fast and shallow, he rubs his thumb over the slick head and is rewarded with spurts of thick white fluid that splatter against their hands and bellies.
Shaddox has a tendency to arch when he overloads, while Clu curls in on himself as he comes. Sometimes he'll press his face to Shaddox's shoulder, as if there's something there that he doesn't want his System Utility to see.
They're not lovers and it's not love, it's not even something that factors into their friendship, and they don't try to pretend that it is. Sometimes Shaddox whispers Clu's name and sometimes he doesn't, and if he happens to look upon his superior with more affection or desire than is perhaps appropriate, Clu says nothing. Clu himself is almost always silent save for low groans and pants, and he never truly vocalizes, although sometimes his throat strains and he grits his teeth as he bites back an outcry of a name that Shaddox can guess at, but knows he will never hear. Not here, not when they're like this.
When they're finished they linger just long enough for Shaddox to reboot and Clu's breathing to return to normal, or a little longer if the Master program permits a reboot of his own system as well. Then they rise and Clu derezzes the mess he left. Shaddox lets him deal with it on his own, because it seems to make Clu uncomfortable and the first (and only) time he'd offered to help, Flynn's program had abruptly refused. So Clu cleans and makes the bed, ever a slave to order and efficiency, and then they rez their respective clothing before returning to the world below and the functions that they're driven to fulfill.
What they share isn't love or anything like it, but it's better than nothing and it's all that they have.
Author: crows_queen
Fandom: TRON (Betrayal era)
Pairing: CLU 2/Shaddox
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Masturbation, circuit sex
Wordcount: 1538
Disclaimer: The characters? Not mine. It was all a labor of love. I'm just making action figures hump in someone else's sandbox.
Feedback: Very welcome!
Summary: It isn't love. But it's better than nothing, and it's the closest thing they've got.
Author's Note: This is my first complete TRON fic, hell, the first thing I've really written in a long damn time. Be gentle with me.
I'm honestly not sure where this came from. I was talking with a friend about Tron/Shaddox and the woeful lack of Shaddox anything, when my brain suddenly decided that it wanted good!Clu/Shaddox, and then without warning I was vomiting words, yo. And sleep was totally not an option until this was finished.
Tron City is never quiet. Night and day, those are User concepts and have little place or purpose on the Grid, where life goes on uninterrupted save by personal schedules.
Some have far fewer interruptions than most; at least, interruptions of a personal nature. Clu never seems to stop working, even when he's alone and his aides and System Utilities have left. When he makes appearances at the Games it's always in the name of public relations, when he indulges in a ride on his light cycle there's always some duty that he attaches to excuse the trip.
All too often, when he thinks that no one is looking, Clu looks weary. Programs do not sleep, but Clu constantly pushes the boundaries of remaining operational without giving his circuits a break, without rebooting or at least going on standby for a millicycle.
Shaddox wonders whether or not the program would ever rest if he didn't intervene. Strictly speaking, his functions do not call for him to assist as much as he does. But it is not his functions alone that drive him to put a hand on Clu's shoulder and give it a squeeze before looking pointedly toward the elevator leading to the floors above. An invitation for the Sysadmin to take a break from his work, however brief.
No, he's become emotionally invested. Shaddox is certain that Clu knows, but the Master program never makes any mention of it. His System Utility is grateful, because that is a discussion that he does not have words for. As far as Clu is concerned, it is the concern of an assistant for the well-being of a superior, or of a friend for a friend, and Shaddox never pushes him any deeper than that. He knows full well that Clu is intrinsically bound to one person only, his User and Creator, and that no matter what they do his friend's heart will always be elsewhere.
Still, no matter how much he might protest at the disruption of his schedule or routine, Clu always rises and follows.
They stand side by side as the elevator carries them up to the floor that houses Clu's apartments, spacious and well-appointed but almost never occupied; Shaddox thinks that they must look much like they do when on duty, overlooking the city as they discuss construction and data flow and resource allocation, except that during these times there are no words or looks exchanged. When the doors open and they step out into the dark room, the lights never respond and they make their way to Clu's bedroom in that same darkness. For all that times that he's been to Clu's private sanctuary, Shaddox has never seen more than that narrow swath, never explored beyond what the glow of his circuits will immediately light.
The bedroom is the most familiar. It doesn't occur to Shaddox to ask why Clu even has a bedroom, or a bed. They stand next to it as Shaddox derezzes his light suit and Clu does away with his leather pants and boots, his t-shirt and jacket. The underwear is the last to go, and then they move toward each other. Clu runs hot, and Shaddox can feel his heat even with space between them. He's usually the one that moves first because Clu always seems simultaneously willing and hesitant. He reaches out and drags his fingers over Clu's skin, avoiding the bold circuits for the moment because the reactions he gets from this alone are always favorable. He flicks at his friend's nipples and trails a finger down his chest and stomach to dip into his navel. Clu always shivers, when Shaddox teases the tender flesh around the odd little feature.
In his turn, the Sysadmin's hands find his Utility's hot spots. Unlike Shaddox, he does not avoid the circuits that cut across the other program's dark skin, though he never focuses solely on them, either. Clu's energy is unlike anyone else's, unique to the Programmer, powerful and heady, born of a User and coding both. Only when Shaddox begins to groan and go weak in the knees does Clu guide him down onto the bed, where they lie pressed close atop the thick black comforter, silky smooth against bare flesh.
There is little delay after that. They do not explore each other. They only come together for a common purpose, remain that way only until it's been met. And Shaddox is content with this, because he is the one in Clu's bed and the one that the program trusts regarding such a personal matter.
They've never once kissed, but as their bodies come together it's almost like they're doing what the pair's lips have not.
Clu instinctively knows how to pleasure another program. Fingers drag along purple-flushed circuitry and a hot mouth follows in their wake, kissing and licking and biting until light pulses in the darkness and groans break the silence. A hand finds its way to the other's legs, cupping over the sexless curve of flesh between them. Clu is Flynn's Sysadmin and knows that he was specially made, that he was made different from the others. He knows, too, that what lies between their legs is just as sensitive as what lies between his, a dense concentration of hidden circuitry that can turn even the most stoic program into a writhing, pleading mess.
Shaddox is not programmed with any knowledge about how to pleasure a User, or a program patterned off of one, but he's proved to be a fast learner for someone whose database included no information on the subject. He caresses the thick, angular lines that trace over the other's body, and his touch is more sensual where Clu's seems detached and almost business-like at times. Shaddox can't fault him for that, because Clu wasn't made for this and hasn't had anyone to teach him differently. No one has showed him how to reconcile his duties and ultimate purpose with his very human need for intimacy and companionship.
Eventually, his hand reaches the coarse brown hair at his superior's groin, and then the hot, straining flesh that rises from it. He's seen Clu's cock enough by now for it not to be startling anymore, and the fingers he wraps around it aren't the least bit hesitant. Clu's hips buck in response and he hisses, and Shaddox feels a slick wetness that aids the familiar, comfortable rhythm of his hand. Then he stops thinking because the other program is rubbing and squeezing at the circuits between his legs and oh, his hand is big and hot and the sheer power the Sysadmin holds only makes it that much more intense.
It never takes them very long, once they get that far. Their free hands caress burning purple pathways, the others never stopping in their movements. Clu rubs and presses between Shaddox's legs and mouths at the little circuits on his chest, lets his own press against the long ones running over Shaddox's shoulders and arms until the other program writhes, stiffens as the air around him crackles with released energy as he flares. For his part, Shaddox strokes Clu's big cock easily from root to tip and then back down; he teases the program's balls but always comes back to the thick shaft above. When he feels Clu start to shake and hears the big program's breath become fast and shallow, he rubs his thumb over the slick head and is rewarded with spurts of thick white fluid that splatter against their hands and bellies.
Shaddox has a tendency to arch when he overloads, while Clu curls in on himself as he comes. Sometimes he'll press his face to Shaddox's shoulder, as if there's something there that he doesn't want his System Utility to see.
They're not lovers and it's not love, it's not even something that factors into their friendship, and they don't try to pretend that it is. Sometimes Shaddox whispers Clu's name and sometimes he doesn't, and if he happens to look upon his superior with more affection or desire than is perhaps appropriate, Clu says nothing. Clu himself is almost always silent save for low groans and pants, and he never truly vocalizes, although sometimes his throat strains and he grits his teeth as he bites back an outcry of a name that Shaddox can guess at, but knows he will never hear. Not here, not when they're like this.
When they're finished they linger just long enough for Shaddox to reboot and Clu's breathing to return to normal, or a little longer if the Master program permits a reboot of his own system as well. Then they rise and Clu derezzes the mess he left. Shaddox lets him deal with it on his own, because it seems to make Clu uncomfortable and the first (and only) time he'd offered to help, Flynn's program had abruptly refused. So Clu cleans and makes the bed, ever a slave to order and efficiency, and then they rez their respective clothing before returning to the world below and the functions that they're driven to fulfill.
What they share isn't love or anything like it, but it's better than nothing and it's all that they have.