Fic: Engineers, Chapter Nine (Alan, Clu, R)
Title: Engineers (Chapter Nine)
Author: grey_sw
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Alan Bradley, Clu, Rinzler, Jarvis, Alan/Kevin, Alan/Clu
Spoilers: TRON: Legacy
Word Count: ~7300
Summary: When they found his car outside Flynn's arcade, with his pager -- the one Kevin had always told him to sleep with, just in case -- sitting on the seat, there'd be no search. No brave mission to carry on his memory, no t-shirts emblazoned with Bradley Lives. It looked too much like suicide.
Notes: For winzler. This is a work in progress, and it's going be epic, so please stick with me! Thanks to noctaval, mochisquish, and dw_lj for beta-reading!
Software is like sex: it's better when it's free.
-Linus Torvalds
---
The next few minutes were a flurry of intent. Wide swathes of Alan's suit melted away beneath Clu's hands, like a pencil drawing beneath an eraser. He pressed his own fingers against Clu's neck in return, frowning in concentration, and managed to derezz a little square spot beneath his ear. He started in on it even before the edges went hexagonal, sucking hard at the bare skin. Clu tasted like musk and salt, like a man did -- like one particular man did -- and Alan groaned against his skin.
This was not Kevin. Not Kevin, not Sam's brother, not a computer program, not any of the things Alan's overthinking mind wanted to make him. Just Clu.
Right about then Just-Clu derezzed the fabric over Alan's crotch and drew his cock out, and Alan stopped thinking. Clu stroked him with a firm, even rhythm, not a beat lost; when Alan's hands dropped onto Clu's shoulders half the suit that covered them disappeared, as if intent had suddenly gotten a whole lot easier. Alan dug his hands in and pulled Clu close, thrusting up into his hand. He was dimly aware that things were moving too fast, but a part of him didn't want to stop. He kissed Clu instead, deep and hard, taking his bottom lip in so he could worry at it with his tongue.
Clu let go of his dick just then, with an abruptness that made him gasp and hump up into thin air, still locked in the kiss. Clu just chuckled into his mouth, leaned back, and then finished dismissing his own outfit down to the knees. It was weird to see Clu's cock bobbing above the pixellated remains, like two ragged half-stockings running down into those heavy boots, yet something about it made Alan's own dick twitch against his thigh. He drank Clu in, admiring him openly. He did look like Kevin, every inch of him, but he was a bit bigger and leaner; the soft spots above his hips were gone, those subtle little handles Alan had loved to squeeze. Alan supposed they must've been imperfections.
He felt a little self-conscious in comparison, but if the intensity of Clu's gaze was anything to go by, maybe he shouldn't have. Clu was looking at him just the same way, studying him carefully. He ran his hands through Alan's hair, smoothing it between his fingers. He drew the visor forth and set it aside, with hands that were nearly reverent. Then he reached out to touch Alan's chest, running his hand over the smooth flesh and the hairs that grew there -- so like his own, yet different in one vital way.
Clu's circuits were still present beneath the suit, brighter than ever. Alan had expected superficial lines, like tattoos or like paint, but these were as essential as veins. They were part of him: each seemed to run in a little channel of flesh, like shallow rivers that crisscrossed his body. Alan reached for the pattern of short sergeant's bars which ran down his chest, then lost his nerve and redirected his fingers to Clu's nipple, pinching gently.
Clu brought him in for another kiss. Alan savored it, spread his hand against Clu's chest, tweaked his nipple again. Then he replaced it with his mouth, sucking gently, spreading his teeth so he could drag them over Clu's flesh. Clu made a small sound of confusion, which Alan mistook for pleasure; Kevin had always had exquisitely sensitive nipples. Then Clu dug his hand into Alan's hair and guided him back up, claiming his mouth again.
"Here," Clu muttered, when they finally came up for breath. "Like this." He moved Alan's hand two inches to the right, over the place where those bright lights ran, and they both hissed out an identical breath.
"Fuck," Alan whispered, but it was lost in the sound of blood rushing in his ears... or was it static? His vision shrank to pinpoint size, and the whole world retreated into the place where his hand was -- where Clu was.
"User," Clu groaned, and it was both an epithet and a description of what was happening to him, circuits burning like liquid gold. Alan felt it too, the way he'd felt Jarvis before. He fell in, into forever, half a million days right down to the bottom.
Eight hours. Everything Clu was, everything mattered to him: it was all there in that first day. Eight hours together with his Maker, eight hours in which he'd been able to believe that Flynn would stay with him forever. Then the portal closed, and the memory broke. Alan rushed back upward again, back through another always. Always busy, always alone; always planning and building and fighting. Alan had just enough time to feel sorrow at that, but Clu met it with puzzlement -- he'd been made for the task, after all, equal to the effort in body and mind.
But not your heart, Alan thought.
In answer, Clu took Alan's hand and put it over his circuits again, where his heart would have been if he'd had one, and kissed him until he felt dizzy. He pressed against him, slotting his hips against Alan's, rubbing his cock against the crease in his thigh.
"Mmph," Clu muttered, moving faster. "More."
Alan reached for him, but Clu slapped his hand away. He gripped Alan's waist instead, pulling him over, guiding him down. They sat facing each other, each in the lap of the other, with Clu's thick cock jutting up between Alan's thighs. Alan slid forward, close as could be, until the tip snugged against the base of his own dick. Clu's hand wrapped around him, warm and strong and more, and he humped up into it with a grunt.
"User. Bradley," Clu hissed, his lips close to Alan's. "I wanted you since the first time I saw you. Since the first nano. Wanted to bend you over that console and take you. When Rinzler put his hand on you I just--" His voice devolved into a wordless growl that stuttered with the first strong thrust. Alan groaned, squeezed his thighs, and rode him, grateful beyond words that Clu had dredged this of all things out of Kevin's memories.
All they needed was a headboard; all they had was the bright orange stripe above Clu's head, pulsing in time with Clu's soft, rhythmic grunts.
Alan knew he'd never last, not like this. He wrapped his hand around Clu's and squeezed, hissing at the extra pressure. It helped, a little; he closed his eyes and savored the feel of Clu's hard cock against his own. He let his other hand wander, sliding into Clu's sideburns, pressing at the corner of Clu's mouth. Clu took it in eagerly, and sucked Alan's fingers as if in promise.
"Mmm," Alan managed. "Please..."
"I will," Clu grunted, still moving eagerly beneath him. "Count on it. You have no idea, User..." He trailed off, as if imagining all the things he'd do to Alan, and Alan swore he felt his dick grow a little bigger between his thighs.
"Clu. Clu, I--"
"Yeah. Yeah, come on, yeah--"
Clu pumped his cock again and again: metronome precision, a program's perfect patience. Alan yelled and lost it, bumping up and down against Clu's thighs. He clutched at Clu's shoulders, desperate for leverage as his orgasm shot through him. He made a noise, a hard gasp, and then Clu was moving beneath him, all care abandoned. He took Alan's hips in his hands, and a sliver of fear worked its way through the haze. If Clu forgot his strength again...
He didn't. He just pulled Alan down and tight around him, rutting into him with abandon. Sweat dripped down between them, utterly human, and the bright lines on Clu's thighs burned beneath him, their heat just barely tolerable. Alan clutched him close and buried his head against Clu's shoulder, seeking warmth to match.
"Clu," he whispered, and then Clu jerked beneath him, out of control. They rose up, up off the bench and then down, once and twice again. Fresh heat splattered Alan's belly.
"Tron," Clu gasped, and when Alan turned to look the pupils of his eyes were yellow like flame. Then the color faded, and Clu did, too, sagging back against the wall.
After half a minute Clu looked at him, his face flushed with what might have been shame. Alan laid his hand against Clu's cheek, moving with care.
"Clu," he said, very deliberately. They leaned against each other for a moment, saying nothing, and then Clu drew him down onto the bench, throwing an arm over his shoulder. They lay there in the half-darkness for what might have been a minute, breathing together in peace, and then Alan closed his eyes and slipped off to sleep.
Author: grey_sw
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Alan Bradley, Clu, Rinzler, Jarvis, Alan/Kevin, Alan/Clu
Spoilers: TRON: Legacy
Word Count: ~7300
Summary: When they found his car outside Flynn's arcade, with his pager -- the one Kevin had always told him to sleep with, just in case -- sitting on the seat, there'd be no search. No brave mission to carry on his memory, no t-shirts emblazoned with Bradley Lives. It looked too much like suicide.
Notes: For winzler. This is a work in progress, and it's going be epic, so please stick with me! Thanks to noctaval, mochisquish, and dw_lj for beta-reading!
Software is like sex: it's better when it's free.
-Linus Torvalds
---
The next few minutes were a flurry of intent. Wide swathes of Alan's suit melted away beneath Clu's hands, like a pencil drawing beneath an eraser. He pressed his own fingers against Clu's neck in return, frowning in concentration, and managed to derezz a little square spot beneath his ear. He started in on it even before the edges went hexagonal, sucking hard at the bare skin. Clu tasted like musk and salt, like a man did -- like one particular man did -- and Alan groaned against his skin.
This was not Kevin. Not Kevin, not Sam's brother, not a computer program, not any of the things Alan's overthinking mind wanted to make him. Just Clu.
Right about then Just-Clu derezzed the fabric over Alan's crotch and drew his cock out, and Alan stopped thinking. Clu stroked him with a firm, even rhythm, not a beat lost; when Alan's hands dropped onto Clu's shoulders half the suit that covered them disappeared, as if intent had suddenly gotten a whole lot easier. Alan dug his hands in and pulled Clu close, thrusting up into his hand. He was dimly aware that things were moving too fast, but a part of him didn't want to stop. He kissed Clu instead, deep and hard, taking his bottom lip in so he could worry at it with his tongue.
Clu let go of his dick just then, with an abruptness that made him gasp and hump up into thin air, still locked in the kiss. Clu just chuckled into his mouth, leaned back, and then finished dismissing his own outfit down to the knees. It was weird to see Clu's cock bobbing above the pixellated remains, like two ragged half-stockings running down into those heavy boots, yet something about it made Alan's own dick twitch against his thigh. He drank Clu in, admiring him openly. He did look like Kevin, every inch of him, but he was a bit bigger and leaner; the soft spots above his hips were gone, those subtle little handles Alan had loved to squeeze. Alan supposed they must've been imperfections.
He felt a little self-conscious in comparison, but if the intensity of Clu's gaze was anything to go by, maybe he shouldn't have. Clu was looking at him just the same way, studying him carefully. He ran his hands through Alan's hair, smoothing it between his fingers. He drew the visor forth and set it aside, with hands that were nearly reverent. Then he reached out to touch Alan's chest, running his hand over the smooth flesh and the hairs that grew there -- so like his own, yet different in one vital way.
Clu's circuits were still present beneath the suit, brighter than ever. Alan had expected superficial lines, like tattoos or like paint, but these were as essential as veins. They were part of him: each seemed to run in a little channel of flesh, like shallow rivers that crisscrossed his body. Alan reached for the pattern of short sergeant's bars which ran down his chest, then lost his nerve and redirected his fingers to Clu's nipple, pinching gently.
Clu brought him in for another kiss. Alan savored it, spread his hand against Clu's chest, tweaked his nipple again. Then he replaced it with his mouth, sucking gently, spreading his teeth so he could drag them over Clu's flesh. Clu made a small sound of confusion, which Alan mistook for pleasure; Kevin had always had exquisitely sensitive nipples. Then Clu dug his hand into Alan's hair and guided him back up, claiming his mouth again.
"Here," Clu muttered, when they finally came up for breath. "Like this." He moved Alan's hand two inches to the right, over the place where those bright lights ran, and they both hissed out an identical breath.
"Fuck," Alan whispered, but it was lost in the sound of blood rushing in his ears... or was it static? His vision shrank to pinpoint size, and the whole world retreated into the place where his hand was -- where Clu was.
"User," Clu groaned, and it was both an epithet and a description of what was happening to him, circuits burning like liquid gold. Alan felt it too, the way he'd felt Jarvis before. He fell in, into forever, half a million days right down to the bottom.
Eight hours. Everything Clu was, everything mattered to him: it was all there in that first day. Eight hours together with his Maker, eight hours in which he'd been able to believe that Flynn would stay with him forever. Then the portal closed, and the memory broke. Alan rushed back upward again, back through another always. Always busy, always alone; always planning and building and fighting. Alan had just enough time to feel sorrow at that, but Clu met it with puzzlement -- he'd been made for the task, after all, equal to the effort in body and mind.
But not your heart, Alan thought.
In answer, Clu took Alan's hand and put it over his circuits again, where his heart would have been if he'd had one, and kissed him until he felt dizzy. He pressed against him, slotting his hips against Alan's, rubbing his cock against the crease in his thigh.
"Mmph," Clu muttered, moving faster. "More."
Alan reached for him, but Clu slapped his hand away. He gripped Alan's waist instead, pulling him over, guiding him down. They sat facing each other, each in the lap of the other, with Clu's thick cock jutting up between Alan's thighs. Alan slid forward, close as could be, until the tip snugged against the base of his own dick. Clu's hand wrapped around him, warm and strong and more, and he humped up into it with a grunt.
"User. Bradley," Clu hissed, his lips close to Alan's. "I wanted you since the first time I saw you. Since the first nano. Wanted to bend you over that console and take you. When Rinzler put his hand on you I just--" His voice devolved into a wordless growl that stuttered with the first strong thrust. Alan groaned, squeezed his thighs, and rode him, grateful beyond words that Clu had dredged this of all things out of Kevin's memories.
All they needed was a headboard; all they had was the bright orange stripe above Clu's head, pulsing in time with Clu's soft, rhythmic grunts.
Alan knew he'd never last, not like this. He wrapped his hand around Clu's and squeezed, hissing at the extra pressure. It helped, a little; he closed his eyes and savored the feel of Clu's hard cock against his own. He let his other hand wander, sliding into Clu's sideburns, pressing at the corner of Clu's mouth. Clu took it in eagerly, and sucked Alan's fingers as if in promise.
"Mmm," Alan managed. "Please..."
"I will," Clu grunted, still moving eagerly beneath him. "Count on it. You have no idea, User..." He trailed off, as if imagining all the things he'd do to Alan, and Alan swore he felt his dick grow a little bigger between his thighs.
"Clu. Clu, I--"
"Yeah. Yeah, come on, yeah--"
Clu pumped his cock again and again: metronome precision, a program's perfect patience. Alan yelled and lost it, bumping up and down against Clu's thighs. He clutched at Clu's shoulders, desperate for leverage as his orgasm shot through him. He made a noise, a hard gasp, and then Clu was moving beneath him, all care abandoned. He took Alan's hips in his hands, and a sliver of fear worked its way through the haze. If Clu forgot his strength again...
He didn't. He just pulled Alan down and tight around him, rutting into him with abandon. Sweat dripped down between them, utterly human, and the bright lines on Clu's thighs burned beneath him, their heat just barely tolerable. Alan clutched him close and buried his head against Clu's shoulder, seeking warmth to match.
"Clu," he whispered, and then Clu jerked beneath him, out of control. They rose up, up off the bench and then down, once and twice again. Fresh heat splattered Alan's belly.
"Tron," Clu gasped, and when Alan turned to look the pupils of his eyes were yellow like flame. Then the color faded, and Clu did, too, sagging back against the wall.
After half a minute Clu looked at him, his face flushed with what might have been shame. Alan laid his hand against Clu's cheek, moving with care.
"Clu," he said, very deliberately. They leaned against each other for a moment, saying nothing, and then Clu drew him down onto the bench, throwing an arm over his shoulder. They lay there in the half-darkness for what might have been a minute, breathing together in peace, and then Alan closed his eyes and slipped off to sleep.