~drinking champagne, made by the angel~
Story: Le Disko
Chapter: Like Electric Champagne
Fandom: TRON: Legacy
Verse: Pilots & Poison
Characters/pairing: Sam Flynn/Tron; Enyo, Shaddox, Ixion, Io
Rating: T+
Word count: 2444
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: Sam has four hours to get to the portal but he’d rather spend those four hours alone with Tron.
Author's Note: Fill for the prompt "Tron/User, Circuit blowjob". Set after We Are Pilots before the Epilogue.
Sam should be paying attention. They're talking about the bombs found planted around the foundations of future memory bank towers, which is coming hot on the heels of several coordinated attacks on I/O towers throughout the city. These weren't even the topics he had planned on discussing when he arrived for a routine visit; he was all set to talk about reopening the Game Grid when Enyo told him bluntly to hold off porting more programs, the ones native to the Grid aren't comfortable with these new faces and more complex functions. And that was before Ixion informed them of the bombs.
But instead of listening to Enyo and Ed's doppelganger discuss their list of possible suspects with interjections from two system utility programs, including Flynn's old Shaddox, Sam's sliding his foot across the floor under the black table and nudging Tron's. The security program's only acknowledgement is to furrow his eyebrows as he studies a data pad and Sam frowns, annoyed. It's been two days going on three, and the warning to get to the portal before it closes came and went hours ago. The Grid's latest problems have devoured every second of his visit but he's not leaving until after he spends some time with Tron.
Alone.
He nudges Tron's foot again and earns a glare as Tron moves it out of reach. Sam is nothing if not persistent and switches tactics, inches forward on his seat until his toes touch the program's lower leg. Sam glances quickly at the other programs in the room but they're preoccupied with a holographic map of one of the newest sectors; he smirks as he slides his foot up, watches the way Tron's fingers curl around the data pad in his hands as he tries to concentrate.
"...that would create a bottleneck-"
"But much easier to monitor the traffic going in and out..."
He swivels his foot, rubbing the instep along the inside of Tron's calf. Tron throws him another glare and this time Sam doesn't even bother hiding his grin as he moves his foot up - and remembers too late that there's a circuit under the program's knee. He freezes at the sudden shivering rush of energy; the data pad in Tron's hands cracks and the holographic map flickers.
Enyo stops talking. Sam quickly pulls his foot back and straightens himself while the search program looks his way. The others haven't noticed - or they're pretending not to - and are still talking with Ixion about stationing his antivirus team at the undeveloped borders of TRON City-oh, so they changed topics at some point. Sam really should pay attention; he is the User, after all.
"Didn't the first warning go off half a millicycle ago?" Enyo asks, cutting Shaddox off.
"Yeah."
Her eyes flick to Tron, whose face is a blank wall but whose circuits are glowing brighter than normal. She raises an eyebrow and then turns to the others. "I think we know what we're doing for the next several millicycles."
The other system utility, Io, opens her mouth but Enyo is already minimizing the holographic map and rising to her feet; her seat collapses back into a series of circular circuits on the floor as she collects a few data pads. The others follow her lead, with a baffled Io pointing at something on her primary data pad to Shaddox as they walks out of the room.
"Ixion," Tron says, eyes somehow still glued to the data pad, "bring your team to the Training Grid in three millicycles."
"Three millicycles. Got it." Ed's antivirus program then turns to Enyo, who's standing by the door. "So, have you considered-"
"No. That's not what shortcuts are meant for. You know what you need to do. Go do it."
Sam watches Ixion deflate at the latest rejection and leave the room. "He still hasn't given up, has he?"
"Oh he tries." Enyo makes a face as she looks at one of the data pads in her arm, then shuffles it to the bottom of the small stack. She looks up and says, "You have half a millicycle to get to the portal, if you didn't already know."
"You don't have to keep reminding me," Sam says, looking over his shoulder through the glass wall at the bright star in the sky. "I know what I'm doing."
She nods slowly as her eyes slide to Tron, who's still reading the cracked screen as he slowly makes his way to the door. "I'll see you in thirty centicycles, then." Halfway out of the room she adds, "And try not to overload this sector."
Sam flushes, scowls at her back as she disappears. He looks at Tron, who's still incredibly engrossed by the security updates on that data pad, then back over his shoulder at the portal's light shining deep in the Outlands. Four hours. He should've brought Quorra with him to the arcade tonight. Four hours isn't enough time.
So he does the next best thing, quickly crossing the room and slamming his hand against the wall before Tron reaches the doorway. The door slides shut and the program stops, finally lifts his head up to frown at it; he then turns around as Sam starts crowding him against the door.
"What are you-"
"Shut up," Sam says and kisses him.
Tron rumbles as he presses his tongue into his mouth, sucks on it and draws a low moan out of Sam's throat as he pushes the program hard against the door. He shudders as Tron slides his free hand up the circuit on his back and swears again at himself for not having someone monitoring the Grid from the other side. It's been too long for his liking and now he's starving for it; his fingers twitch, begging to remap the hard planes and circuits of Tron's body, and who cares that he has to leave soon?
Unfortunately Tron still has his wits about him, is the one pulling away and hoarsely saying, "We have to go."
"Yeah, I know." He cracks an eye open and is immediately drawn to the blazing circuits running down Tron's front. "Just...give me a second."
"Sam-"
He covers the program's mouth with his hand, grins when Tron glares at him, and then bows his head and breathes out over the four circuits on his sternum. Tron twitches, then moans as Sam licks one of the squares; the hot-cold buzz of energy shivers through him, vibrating his circuits and forming a tight ball of heat in his chest. Sam keeps his hand on Tron's mouth and bends his knees at a slight angle as his lips skim over the warm surface to the large circuit on the left side of Tron's chest.
The first slide of his tongue over it has Tron jerking against him and he plants his other hand on Tron's side, pushes him back against the wall before he knocks Sam flat on his ass. Tron rumbles but stays put, drags his fingertips all the way up the circuit on his back and buries them in his hair. Sam hisses, shuts his eyes tightly as pleasure ricochets through his body, and tilts his head up.
"D-don't," he says harshly.
"Don't what?"
He tries to catch his breath but his heart is racing, his circuits throbbing, and he's falling apart way too fast. He swallows hard, hears the pounding in his head as he says, "Don't touch me. Let me...let me do this."
Tron frowns, pupils flickering neon blue. "I'm not following you here. What-"
His voice abruptly cuts off at another stroke over his circuit and curls his fingers against the back of Sam's head. The cracked data pad falls out of his other hand, bounces on its side, and slides away.
Sam traces the edges of the circuit with the tip of his tongue, feels Tron struggle to stay still as he pulls back and breathes over it. The light fluctuates, blazing blue-white, and the program keens, pressing the flat of his hand against the wall as he tries to do everything but grab onto Sam. Sam glances up as his mouth hovers over the circuit and all he can see is the long tense line of Tron's neck. It's there for Sam to kiss and mouth and graze with his teeth but they don't have that kind of time. Still he stares at it as he slowly slides down, watches Tron press back against the wall and shiver as he drags the tip of his tongue along a short circuit line over the program's stomach.
He can't remember the last time he went down on his knees - it was so long ago, he was so drunk, and he never went back; whatever he remembers is nothing compared to the otherwise surreal situation of coaxing a program along with just his mouth, for the electric feel of the circuit against his lips. The corners of his mouth curve upward as he presses the flat of his tongue against a small circuit low on Tron's stomach, feels the program twitch and squirm while hot-cold shivers through him.
The light panels on the wall Sam's pushed Tron up against flicker and he stops, abruptly reminded of Enyo's teasing warning; like falling dominoes he then remembers that he should leave now if he's going to make it to the portal in time. He wavers for a second too long and Tron growls, drags his fingers over the back of Sam's head.
This time it's Tron who says, "Don't," in a broken, needy voice. But when Sam looks up, breathless and shivering and fighting the cold sinking feeling in his chest, Tron has already accepted the inevitable. The want in his gray eyes clash with resignation as he toys with the short hairs at the back of Sam's neck and Sam sighs, presses his forehead to the program's stomach and listens to the quieting hum.
"You have to go."
Sam studies the glowing circuit under the program’s knee. "Yeah."
He feels Tron move and leans back, gives him space as he slowly slides down the wall onto the floor. Tron's circuits are still too bright and his hair's disheveled from where Sam briefly ran his hand through it, but there's nothing but regret in the slump of his shoulders, in his expression as he slowly reaches out and touches the side of Sam's face. Sam closes his eyes, feels his circuits warm pleasantly as Tron lets his fingers linger along his jaw, and wishes desperately that he didn't have to worry about the portal.
"Thirty centicycles," he says. "Over two days. I can't wait that long."
"What can you do?" Tron asks. "You have a life to lead on the other side; you can't stay here for as long as you want-"
"I know," Sam says a little angrier than he means to and regrets it when Tron pulls his hand back. He bows his head, stares at his hands as he rubs the simulated material wrapped around his thumbs and index and middle fingers. "I know. Can't do what Dad did, can't just...let everything fall apart. But I-we just can't catch a break, can we?"
That draws a rueful smile out of Tron. He leans forward, hands curving around Sam's face, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. Sam curls his fingers tightly, afraid that touching the program will just unravel what self-control reality jolted back into him. Instead he runs his tongue along Tron's bottom lip, sucks it in between his and feels the whirring purr vibrate from the program's throat into his mouth. He releases the bottom lip and presses his forehead to Tron's, breathing hotly against his mouth and wondering what his answer will be this time.
"Come with me," Sam murmurs in between open-mouthed kisses.
He waits for the quiet, firm, "No," and a brief reminder that Tron's place is on the Grid but all Tron does is go still. It's not what Sam expected and he sits back, opens his eyes to see Tron frowning deeply as he stares at something on the floor.
"Tron?"
The program looks up, appearing indecisive for once. "I...I've been thinking about it."
Sam's heart starts racing.
"I don't know. I'm a program, I belong here, my purpose is here. That's how it's always been. But with you," and he rubs his thumb along the curve of Sam's jaw, "I kind of...I want to know what it's like, on the other side."
"The Users' world," Sam says, leaning into the touch. "Swear it's not all bad. What really matters is that I can control the portal." He tilts his head and kisses the inside of Tron's wrist. "Don't have to worry about time."
He watches Tron's circuits flicker at the touch, sees a shift in the program's eyes, and it sparks something hot and heavy; Sam forces himself to pulls away. He looks over his shoulder at the lights of the city and the star in the sky, then turns back around and asks in a voice that’s not quite there, "So are you?"
Tron shakes his head. "Don't know. I'll tell you the next time you visit."
"Thirty centicycles," Sam repeats as Tron unfolds himself and rises to his feet. He glances at the proffered hand, then grabs it and lets the program haul him up. "I don't think I can wait that long."
"Think of it this way," Tron says as he walks over to the forgotten data pad and picks it up. "Thirty centicycles is enough time for us to find the programs that planted the bombs and secure the sector. When you come back we'll have less to deal with..."
Sam waits for him to come back to his side before leaving the room, shivers when Tron briefly touches the circuit over his right shoulder blade.
"...and more time on our hands."
Chapter: Like Electric Champagne
Fandom: TRON: Legacy
Verse: Pilots & Poison
Characters/pairing: Sam Flynn/Tron; Enyo, Shaddox, Ixion, Io
Rating: T+
Word count: 2444
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: Sam has four hours to get to the portal but he’d rather spend those four hours alone with Tron.
Author's Note: Fill for the prompt "Tron/User, Circuit blowjob". Set after We Are Pilots before the Epilogue.
Sam should be paying attention. They're talking about the bombs found planted around the foundations of future memory bank towers, which is coming hot on the heels of several coordinated attacks on I/O towers throughout the city. These weren't even the topics he had planned on discussing when he arrived for a routine visit; he was all set to talk about reopening the Game Grid when Enyo told him bluntly to hold off porting more programs, the ones native to the Grid aren't comfortable with these new faces and more complex functions. And that was before Ixion informed them of the bombs.
But instead of listening to Enyo and Ed's doppelganger discuss their list of possible suspects with interjections from two system utility programs, including Flynn's old Shaddox, Sam's sliding his foot across the floor under the black table and nudging Tron's. The security program's only acknowledgement is to furrow his eyebrows as he studies a data pad and Sam frowns, annoyed. It's been two days going on three, and the warning to get to the portal before it closes came and went hours ago. The Grid's latest problems have devoured every second of his visit but he's not leaving until after he spends some time with Tron.
Alone.
He nudges Tron's foot again and earns a glare as Tron moves it out of reach. Sam is nothing if not persistent and switches tactics, inches forward on his seat until his toes touch the program's lower leg. Sam glances quickly at the other programs in the room but they're preoccupied with a holographic map of one of the newest sectors; he smirks as he slides his foot up, watches the way Tron's fingers curl around the data pad in his hands as he tries to concentrate.
"...that would create a bottleneck-"
"But much easier to monitor the traffic going in and out..."
He swivels his foot, rubbing the instep along the inside of Tron's calf. Tron throws him another glare and this time Sam doesn't even bother hiding his grin as he moves his foot up - and remembers too late that there's a circuit under the program's knee. He freezes at the sudden shivering rush of energy; the data pad in Tron's hands cracks and the holographic map flickers.
Enyo stops talking. Sam quickly pulls his foot back and straightens himself while the search program looks his way. The others haven't noticed - or they're pretending not to - and are still talking with Ixion about stationing his antivirus team at the undeveloped borders of TRON City-oh, so they changed topics at some point. Sam really should pay attention; he is the User, after all.
"Didn't the first warning go off half a millicycle ago?" Enyo asks, cutting Shaddox off.
"Yeah."
Her eyes flick to Tron, whose face is a blank wall but whose circuits are glowing brighter than normal. She raises an eyebrow and then turns to the others. "I think we know what we're doing for the next several millicycles."
The other system utility, Io, opens her mouth but Enyo is already minimizing the holographic map and rising to her feet; her seat collapses back into a series of circular circuits on the floor as she collects a few data pads. The others follow her lead, with a baffled Io pointing at something on her primary data pad to Shaddox as they walks out of the room.
"Ixion," Tron says, eyes somehow still glued to the data pad, "bring your team to the Training Grid in three millicycles."
"Three millicycles. Got it." Ed's antivirus program then turns to Enyo, who's standing by the door. "So, have you considered-"
"No. That's not what shortcuts are meant for. You know what you need to do. Go do it."
Sam watches Ixion deflate at the latest rejection and leave the room. "He still hasn't given up, has he?"
"Oh he tries." Enyo makes a face as she looks at one of the data pads in her arm, then shuffles it to the bottom of the small stack. She looks up and says, "You have half a millicycle to get to the portal, if you didn't already know."
"You don't have to keep reminding me," Sam says, looking over his shoulder through the glass wall at the bright star in the sky. "I know what I'm doing."
She nods slowly as her eyes slide to Tron, who's still reading the cracked screen as he slowly makes his way to the door. "I'll see you in thirty centicycles, then." Halfway out of the room she adds, "And try not to overload this sector."
Sam flushes, scowls at her back as she disappears. He looks at Tron, who's still incredibly engrossed by the security updates on that data pad, then back over his shoulder at the portal's light shining deep in the Outlands. Four hours. He should've brought Quorra with him to the arcade tonight. Four hours isn't enough time.
So he does the next best thing, quickly crossing the room and slamming his hand against the wall before Tron reaches the doorway. The door slides shut and the program stops, finally lifts his head up to frown at it; he then turns around as Sam starts crowding him against the door.
"What are you-"
"Shut up," Sam says and kisses him.
Tron rumbles as he presses his tongue into his mouth, sucks on it and draws a low moan out of Sam's throat as he pushes the program hard against the door. He shudders as Tron slides his free hand up the circuit on his back and swears again at himself for not having someone monitoring the Grid from the other side. It's been too long for his liking and now he's starving for it; his fingers twitch, begging to remap the hard planes and circuits of Tron's body, and who cares that he has to leave soon?
Unfortunately Tron still has his wits about him, is the one pulling away and hoarsely saying, "We have to go."
"Yeah, I know." He cracks an eye open and is immediately drawn to the blazing circuits running down Tron's front. "Just...give me a second."
"Sam-"
He covers the program's mouth with his hand, grins when Tron glares at him, and then bows his head and breathes out over the four circuits on his sternum. Tron twitches, then moans as Sam licks one of the squares; the hot-cold buzz of energy shivers through him, vibrating his circuits and forming a tight ball of heat in his chest. Sam keeps his hand on Tron's mouth and bends his knees at a slight angle as his lips skim over the warm surface to the large circuit on the left side of Tron's chest.
The first slide of his tongue over it has Tron jerking against him and he plants his other hand on Tron's side, pushes him back against the wall before he knocks Sam flat on his ass. Tron rumbles but stays put, drags his fingertips all the way up the circuit on his back and buries them in his hair. Sam hisses, shuts his eyes tightly as pleasure ricochets through his body, and tilts his head up.
"D-don't," he says harshly.
"Don't what?"
He tries to catch his breath but his heart is racing, his circuits throbbing, and he's falling apart way too fast. He swallows hard, hears the pounding in his head as he says, "Don't touch me. Let me...let me do this."
Tron frowns, pupils flickering neon blue. "I'm not following you here. What-"
His voice abruptly cuts off at another stroke over his circuit and curls his fingers against the back of Sam's head. The cracked data pad falls out of his other hand, bounces on its side, and slides away.
Sam traces the edges of the circuit with the tip of his tongue, feels Tron struggle to stay still as he pulls back and breathes over it. The light fluctuates, blazing blue-white, and the program keens, pressing the flat of his hand against the wall as he tries to do everything but grab onto Sam. Sam glances up as his mouth hovers over the circuit and all he can see is the long tense line of Tron's neck. It's there for Sam to kiss and mouth and graze with his teeth but they don't have that kind of time. Still he stares at it as he slowly slides down, watches Tron press back against the wall and shiver as he drags the tip of his tongue along a short circuit line over the program's stomach.
He can't remember the last time he went down on his knees - it was so long ago, he was so drunk, and he never went back; whatever he remembers is nothing compared to the otherwise surreal situation of coaxing a program along with just his mouth, for the electric feel of the circuit against his lips. The corners of his mouth curve upward as he presses the flat of his tongue against a small circuit low on Tron's stomach, feels the program twitch and squirm while hot-cold shivers through him.
The light panels on the wall Sam's pushed Tron up against flicker and he stops, abruptly reminded of Enyo's teasing warning; like falling dominoes he then remembers that he should leave now if he's going to make it to the portal in time. He wavers for a second too long and Tron growls, drags his fingers over the back of Sam's head.
This time it's Tron who says, "Don't," in a broken, needy voice. But when Sam looks up, breathless and shivering and fighting the cold sinking feeling in his chest, Tron has already accepted the inevitable. The want in his gray eyes clash with resignation as he toys with the short hairs at the back of Sam's neck and Sam sighs, presses his forehead to the program's stomach and listens to the quieting hum.
"You have to go."
Sam studies the glowing circuit under the program’s knee. "Yeah."
He feels Tron move and leans back, gives him space as he slowly slides down the wall onto the floor. Tron's circuits are still too bright and his hair's disheveled from where Sam briefly ran his hand through it, but there's nothing but regret in the slump of his shoulders, in his expression as he slowly reaches out and touches the side of Sam's face. Sam closes his eyes, feels his circuits warm pleasantly as Tron lets his fingers linger along his jaw, and wishes desperately that he didn't have to worry about the portal.
"Thirty centicycles," he says. "Over two days. I can't wait that long."
"What can you do?" Tron asks. "You have a life to lead on the other side; you can't stay here for as long as you want-"
"I know," Sam says a little angrier than he means to and regrets it when Tron pulls his hand back. He bows his head, stares at his hands as he rubs the simulated material wrapped around his thumbs and index and middle fingers. "I know. Can't do what Dad did, can't just...let everything fall apart. But I-we just can't catch a break, can we?"
That draws a rueful smile out of Tron. He leans forward, hands curving around Sam's face, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. Sam curls his fingers tightly, afraid that touching the program will just unravel what self-control reality jolted back into him. Instead he runs his tongue along Tron's bottom lip, sucks it in between his and feels the whirring purr vibrate from the program's throat into his mouth. He releases the bottom lip and presses his forehead to Tron's, breathing hotly against his mouth and wondering what his answer will be this time.
"Come with me," Sam murmurs in between open-mouthed kisses.
He waits for the quiet, firm, "No," and a brief reminder that Tron's place is on the Grid but all Tron does is go still. It's not what Sam expected and he sits back, opens his eyes to see Tron frowning deeply as he stares at something on the floor.
"Tron?"
The program looks up, appearing indecisive for once. "I...I've been thinking about it."
Sam's heart starts racing.
"I don't know. I'm a program, I belong here, my purpose is here. That's how it's always been. But with you," and he rubs his thumb along the curve of Sam's jaw, "I kind of...I want to know what it's like, on the other side."
"The Users' world," Sam says, leaning into the touch. "Swear it's not all bad. What really matters is that I can control the portal." He tilts his head and kisses the inside of Tron's wrist. "Don't have to worry about time."
He watches Tron's circuits flicker at the touch, sees a shift in the program's eyes, and it sparks something hot and heavy; Sam forces himself to pulls away. He looks over his shoulder at the lights of the city and the star in the sky, then turns back around and asks in a voice that’s not quite there, "So are you?"
Tron shakes his head. "Don't know. I'll tell you the next time you visit."
"Thirty centicycles," Sam repeats as Tron unfolds himself and rises to his feet. He glances at the proffered hand, then grabs it and lets the program haul him up. "I don't think I can wait that long."
"Think of it this way," Tron says as he walks over to the forgotten data pad and picks it up. "Thirty centicycles is enough time for us to find the programs that planted the bombs and secure the sector. When you come back we'll have less to deal with..."
Sam waits for him to come back to his side before leaving the room, shivers when Tron briefly touches the circuit over his right shoulder blade.
"...and more time on our hands."