[fic] Choppers | 10
Title: Choppers 10/?
Author: girl_starfish
Rating: PG-13 for smut.
Notes: Thanks to mikkeneko and jamjar for audiencing and offering advice, and everyone following this fic -- you've all been really lovely with comments and encouragement. Thanks heaps!
Title comes from the song 'Choppers' by Headless Chickens and has nothing to do with the fic at all.
Summary: Tim puts an idea to Bart. Kon has an idea of his own.
It was a simple plan, but one that required great tact and delicacy to set into place. Tim chose his time and place carefully. He waited for a time when he would be free, and Bart was pleasantly mellow from piloting the scout through a completely avoidable hazard, to approach him in their room.
“So, Bart.”
“Hmmm?” Bart was sprawled luxuriously over his bed. Kon hadn’t been able to do much to salvage Bart’s hair and in the end, had settled for giving him a buzz cut. It made Bart’s ears stick out, and his eyes impossibly large. Bernard had started calling him ‘bug’ and Tim could see why.
He sat on the bed next to Bart putting a hand out to stroke Bart’s hair. Fuzzy. Nice. “You said you needed to practice . . . ?”
“I don’t need practice being tickled,” Bart said pushing Tim’s hand away. “I can do that -- oh.”
Tim waited.
Bart wriggled into a sitting position and studied Tim thoughtfully. “You wanna help me practice?”
“I was thinking we could both practice,” Tim said, casually.
Bart narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”
Tim hadn’t expected Bart to ask questions. “It had occurred to me that practice of the sort would be useful,” he said. “And --”
“Because of Kon?”
Tim froze. “Ah --”
Bart ran a finger down Tim’s neck, pausing thoughtfully at his collarbone. “Do I get to top? I’m not doing this unless I get to be on top.”
“We’ll take turns,” Tim said firmly. “Fifty-fifty.”
“Seems fair,” Bart tugged at Tim’s shirt. “Let’s start right away. Fifty is rather a lot --” He paused. “Actually, if we count the showers it’s 48.”
“That’s not exactly what I -- nevermind.” Tim let Bart pull his shirt off, sliding his fingers up and under Bart’s t-shirt.
A few minutes and some heavy petting later, Tim paused. He had Bart pinned against the bunk bed, and mostly naked but for some reason --
“Is it just me,” he started. “Or is this --”
“It’s not working.”
Tim sighed, and let go of Bart. “We’re teenage boys. You wouldn’t think we’d have a problem with this.”
Bart rested his head on Tim’s shoulder. His short hair tickled pleasantly and Tim put his hand out to pat it automatically. “It’s like that moment when you’ve geared the thrusters and the motor can either catch on or stall. The machine might have all the right pieces --”
“I think we can be certain of that,” Tim smirked letting a hand stroke downwards. He enjoyed seeing Bart wriggle before continuing. “I hope you’re not going to suggest we get our wiring examined.”
Bart made a valiant attempt at dignity. “Of course not. That would be -- be stupid.” He firmly removed Tim’s hand. “That isn’t helping.”
“Oh? I thought it was.”
Bart nipped Tim’s hand in retaliation. “We’re missing something we had the other times,” he said. “Maybe we need to be in the shower?”
Tim shook his head, idly letting his finger trace Bart’s lip. “I don’t think so. It could be spontaneity --”
“Geez, I hope not. Otherwise it’ll take for ever to get through the next 48.” Bart pouted. “I bet Kon would know.”
Tim thought about Kon. “He’s been teaching you, yeah?” he said, letting his hand rest over Bart’s shoulder and leaning just slightly over him.
Bart looked at him oddly. “Yeah.”
“Showing you the ropes?”
“We don’t have ropes. He said -- ooooh, wait. You meant that metafo--fores--you didn’t mean real ropes.”
Tim’s turn to stare. “You’ve talked about real ropes.”
Bart grinned at him. “Kon’s not a big fan,” he said. “He says there’s more to being in control then having your hand on the whip. He says a good lover knows how to make you helpless with nothing but a look.”
“Did he?” Tim considered this.
“Yeah, he did.” Bart arched off the bed a little to pull Tim’s shirt out from underneath him. As he did, his eyes met Tim’s --
A heartbeat later, and Tim had Bart pressed against the bunk base so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if they left imprints. Bart didn’t seem to care, if the way his hands skated over Tim’s back in a frantic attempt to wrap himself around Tim was any indication. Tim growled as he bit Bart’s neck, enjoying the way Bart arched up into him as response. They were onto something here --
---
Thirty minutes later, one arm around Bart who was tucked tightly against his side, Tim spoke. “I think I’ve worked it out.”
“Eye-contact?” Bart said sleepily. “That could be tricky.”
“Challenge,” Tim said firmly. “It’s all about wanting to make the other lose control before you do.”
Bart considered this. “I remember thinking that you were going to be in big trouble after I got your trousers off,” he said thoughtfully. “After that, I don’t remember thinking much at all.”
Tim smirked. “That’s three to me.”
Bart kicked him. “Only two. The first one was Kon’s.”
“Still two more than you have.”
”Oh yeah?” Bart tugged the sheet aside, and angled over Tim. “Guess I’ll have to change that.”
Tim gave him an indulgent smirk. “Nice try, Bart, but you can’t be --” He paused. “Already? That’s not --”
“Humanly possible?” And where the hell had nice, clueless Bart learnt that smile? “Newsflash, Tim.”
---
Life aboard ship progressed as usual. Tim had a neat row of searched areas that he could cross of their map. Bart had been prevailed upon to reassemble the heating unit. The search droids spanned out, sending back orderly waves of scans and Bernard had taken to leaving the shower door unlocked while he was using it.
Kon, like Bart, seemed to be in his element in space. He’d put his unease about the contents of the Iris aside, and if he had misgivings over the object of their search he was hiding them well. Tim’s conversations with Kon as they shared the night shift were fast becoming the highlight of Tim’s days, and he was astonished by the realisation that he might actually be happy.
Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.
Bart folded his arms and glared at Tim. “Sixteen,” he said. “So you’ve got 34 left--”
“Fifteen,” Tim corrected him.
“Hello? This morning? That was two --”
“Was not. I didn’t pull out, did I --”
“That’s not fair! That’s -- oh, Bernard.”
Bernard was staring at them both as if they’d just grown tentacles or something. “Did you -- what are you talking about?”
“Piloting the scout,” Tim said promptly. “What? You can’t have a problem with that?”
“The scout? No -- no problem. I thought --” Bernard shook his head, laughing kind of awkwardly. “I thought -- but that’s . . . yeah, no problem.” And he walked away shaking his head, and muttering something about really needing to get his imagination in check.
Tim and Bart watched him go.
“I’m not that unlikely,” Bart said.
Tim patted him on the head. “That’s the second time,” he said. “We’d better stage a bitter argument over something trivial.”
Bart brightened. “When can we start?”
“Does Kon suspect?” Tim asked, returning to the navigation charts.
“I dunno. I don’t think so,” Bart shrugged. “He’d like me to hook up with you.”
This was news. Tim leaned over, placing himself between Bart and the flight controls, just ensuring Bart’s complete attention “Why?”
Bart blinked. “Well, he keeps saying that you’re a really nice guy and would take care of me. Also that it’s be a good experience and that you seem kind of new to it too -“
“That’s what Kon said?”
Bart considered. “Not all at once. That’s the assembled version.”
This was a setback. Analysis of Kon’s past encounters suggested he had a preference for, well, interesting. If he saw Tim as inexperienced, safe -“Did you do anything to dissuade him of that opinion?”
Bart shook his head. “I thought the fact that you are, when the mood takes you, a heartless sadistic bastard was our little secret?”
Tim blinked at Bart. “ . . . sadistic bastard?”
“Yeah,” Bart was enjoying this. “But only kind of.”
“Only kind of,” Tim said and his voice was low and dangerous. Still leaning into Bart he gave him a look that would have caused most people to reconsider, and/or flee.
Bart just grinned more widely. “That’s what I said.”
“Oh?” said Tim. “I think you need -“
The flight deck door slid open.
“-to learn to pick up after yourself!” Tim continued smoothly. “It’s like rooming with a pig -“
“I would’ve put the engine away when I was finished with it!” Bart took his cue quickly, shoving Tim back so they were no longer sharing a suspicious amount of personal space. “You keep bossing me around -“
“Hey, hey!” Kon interrupted hurriedly. “What’s going on?”
Bart and Tim glared at each other, then looked quickly aside. “Nothing.”
Kon patted Bart on the shoulder. “Not everyone enjoys tripping over bits of machinery whenever they go to cross a room,” he said kindly. “Your shift, yeah? Mind if I have Tim?”
“You can have him all you want,” said Bart.
Tim gave Bart’s shoulder a warning squeeze as he passed - that was not exactly helpful - but Kon didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
“I’ll bring you up dinner later,” he promised, steering Tim out of the flight deck.
“No asteroids,” Tim reminded Bart as they left.
“He’s not as bad as he used to be,” Kon said as they walked towards the galley. “And the heating unit’s been working better ever since he put it back together -“
“After what, 3 days of cold food?” At Kon’s expression, Tim relented. “I’m not really mad at him, but I do wish he’d be more responsible.”
Kon smiled. “You’re only young once. Didn’t you ever get so caught up in something you forgot about your responsibilities?”
“No,” said Tim.
“Come on,” said Kon. “You must have done.”
“Never,” said Tim, with certainty.
Kon looked at him sideways. “You sure you’re human?”
Tim smirked. “I take my responsibilities seriously,” he said. “However, I do have a weakness for calculated risks.”
“Well at least there’s some hope for you,” Kon said doubtfully, hitting the touch pad to open the galley door.
The were two places set at the table, and a meal laid out. Tim looked from the table to Kon, surprised. “What’s this?”
Kon thumped him on the back, pushing him towards the table. “It’s been so busy lately, I never got the chance to thank you for the tea. I’ve never had the real leaves before.”
Tim took a place at the table. “This looks wonderful. You did all this with just the heating unit?”
Kon shrugged. “You don’t work in space as long as I have without picking up a few tricks,” he said. “Besides, I figured that it was about time we talked. Haven’t seen that much of you lately.”
Tim nodded, picking up a fork “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Bart.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” Kon was watching Tim seriously. “What do you think of Bart?”
“Of Bart?” Was Kon going where Tim thought he was going? “He’s okay,” he said cautiously. “Excellent mechanic. I was skeptical at first when Bernard wanted to hire him, but he definitely does his share and more, and he’s easy enough to get along with.”
“And?” Kon prompted. “What do you think about him as a person?”
Kon was going where Tim thought he was going. Crap. “I like him,” he admitted slowly. “He’s not the sort of person I usually make friends with, but I think we get on well despite our differences.”
Kon nodded. “I think he likes you,” he said, it was like seeing footage of a space wreck. You knew what was going to happen, knew you didn’t want to see it, but all the same, you couldn’t look away. “I mean, really likes you.”
“Oh,” said Tim. Then, as more seemed to be expected of him, he added “That’s nice.”
“No, like he could like you like you.”
“I see.” And since Kon was still watching him hopefully, Tim asked. “And you want me to . . . ?”
“Could you give it a go, d’you think? Just try it?”
“I’ve been accused of being callous before,” Tim said. “But my feelings aren’t so superficial I can fall in love on demand.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kon said. “It’s just . . . you would be great for Bart, and he could be good for you too. I think it’s at least worth a try.”
“Sorry, Kon,” Tim said as nicely as he could. “But it would take more than that to get me into a relationship with someone.” Because 15 times wasn’t a relationship, it was research.
“Is it because of Bernard?”
Tim blinked. “What has he got to do with this?”
“I got the impression that -- ah, nevermind. Not important!” Kon said hastily. “So, what would it take to get you into a relationship?”
Tim had to think about that. “Someone who can handle themselves,” he said, thinking of the danger that his line of work often led him into. “Someone who can give as good as they get and not give up. Someone who’s kind and has big hands and a warm smile --”
Kon laughed. “Sounds like you have someone in mind.”
“As a matter of fact --”
“Sorry to interrupt!” Bernard said with a tone of voice that suggested he was not, in fact, sorry at all. “Hey, is it lunchtime?”
Tim could happily have killed him.
Author: girl_starfish
Rating: PG-13 for smut.
Notes: Thanks to mikkeneko and jamjar for audiencing and offering advice, and everyone following this fic -- you've all been really lovely with comments and encouragement. Thanks heaps!
Title comes from the song 'Choppers' by Headless Chickens and has nothing to do with the fic at all.
Summary: Tim puts an idea to Bart. Kon has an idea of his own.
It was a simple plan, but one that required great tact and delicacy to set into place. Tim chose his time and place carefully. He waited for a time when he would be free, and Bart was pleasantly mellow from piloting the scout through a completely avoidable hazard, to approach him in their room.
“So, Bart.”
“Hmmm?” Bart was sprawled luxuriously over his bed. Kon hadn’t been able to do much to salvage Bart’s hair and in the end, had settled for giving him a buzz cut. It made Bart’s ears stick out, and his eyes impossibly large. Bernard had started calling him ‘bug’ and Tim could see why.
He sat on the bed next to Bart putting a hand out to stroke Bart’s hair. Fuzzy. Nice. “You said you needed to practice . . . ?”
“I don’t need practice being tickled,” Bart said pushing Tim’s hand away. “I can do that -- oh.”
Tim waited.
Bart wriggled into a sitting position and studied Tim thoughtfully. “You wanna help me practice?”
“I was thinking we could both practice,” Tim said, casually.
Bart narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”
Tim hadn’t expected Bart to ask questions. “It had occurred to me that practice of the sort would be useful,” he said. “And --”
“Because of Kon?”
Tim froze. “Ah --”
Bart ran a finger down Tim’s neck, pausing thoughtfully at his collarbone. “Do I get to top? I’m not doing this unless I get to be on top.”
“We’ll take turns,” Tim said firmly. “Fifty-fifty.”
“Seems fair,” Bart tugged at Tim’s shirt. “Let’s start right away. Fifty is rather a lot --” He paused. “Actually, if we count the showers it’s 48.”
“That’s not exactly what I -- nevermind.” Tim let Bart pull his shirt off, sliding his fingers up and under Bart’s t-shirt.
A few minutes and some heavy petting later, Tim paused. He had Bart pinned against the bunk bed, and mostly naked but for some reason --
“Is it just me,” he started. “Or is this --”
“It’s not working.”
Tim sighed, and let go of Bart. “We’re teenage boys. You wouldn’t think we’d have a problem with this.”
Bart rested his head on Tim’s shoulder. His short hair tickled pleasantly and Tim put his hand out to pat it automatically. “It’s like that moment when you’ve geared the thrusters and the motor can either catch on or stall. The machine might have all the right pieces --”
“I think we can be certain of that,” Tim smirked letting a hand stroke downwards. He enjoyed seeing Bart wriggle before continuing. “I hope you’re not going to suggest we get our wiring examined.”
Bart made a valiant attempt at dignity. “Of course not. That would be -- be stupid.” He firmly removed Tim’s hand. “That isn’t helping.”
“Oh? I thought it was.”
Bart nipped Tim’s hand in retaliation. “We’re missing something we had the other times,” he said. “Maybe we need to be in the shower?”
Tim shook his head, idly letting his finger trace Bart’s lip. “I don’t think so. It could be spontaneity --”
“Geez, I hope not. Otherwise it’ll take for ever to get through the next 48.” Bart pouted. “I bet Kon would know.”
Tim thought about Kon. “He’s been teaching you, yeah?” he said, letting his hand rest over Bart’s shoulder and leaning just slightly over him.
Bart looked at him oddly. “Yeah.”
“Showing you the ropes?”
“We don’t have ropes. He said -- ooooh, wait. You meant that metafo--fores--you didn’t mean real ropes.”
Tim’s turn to stare. “You’ve talked about real ropes.”
Bart grinned at him. “Kon’s not a big fan,” he said. “He says there’s more to being in control then having your hand on the whip. He says a good lover knows how to make you helpless with nothing but a look.”
“Did he?” Tim considered this.
“Yeah, he did.” Bart arched off the bed a little to pull Tim’s shirt out from underneath him. As he did, his eyes met Tim’s --
A heartbeat later, and Tim had Bart pressed against the bunk base so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if they left imprints. Bart didn’t seem to care, if the way his hands skated over Tim’s back in a frantic attempt to wrap himself around Tim was any indication. Tim growled as he bit Bart’s neck, enjoying the way Bart arched up into him as response. They were onto something here --
---
Thirty minutes later, one arm around Bart who was tucked tightly against his side, Tim spoke. “I think I’ve worked it out.”
“Eye-contact?” Bart said sleepily. “That could be tricky.”
“Challenge,” Tim said firmly. “It’s all about wanting to make the other lose control before you do.”
Bart considered this. “I remember thinking that you were going to be in big trouble after I got your trousers off,” he said thoughtfully. “After that, I don’t remember thinking much at all.”
Tim smirked. “That’s three to me.”
Bart kicked him. “Only two. The first one was Kon’s.”
“Still two more than you have.”
”Oh yeah?” Bart tugged the sheet aside, and angled over Tim. “Guess I’ll have to change that.”
Tim gave him an indulgent smirk. “Nice try, Bart, but you can’t be --” He paused. “Already? That’s not --”
“Humanly possible?” And where the hell had nice, clueless Bart learnt that smile? “Newsflash, Tim.”
---
Life aboard ship progressed as usual. Tim had a neat row of searched areas that he could cross of their map. Bart had been prevailed upon to reassemble the heating unit. The search droids spanned out, sending back orderly waves of scans and Bernard had taken to leaving the shower door unlocked while he was using it.
Kon, like Bart, seemed to be in his element in space. He’d put his unease about the contents of the Iris aside, and if he had misgivings over the object of their search he was hiding them well. Tim’s conversations with Kon as they shared the night shift were fast becoming the highlight of Tim’s days, and he was astonished by the realisation that he might actually be happy.
Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.
Bart folded his arms and glared at Tim. “Sixteen,” he said. “So you’ve got 34 left--”
“Fifteen,” Tim corrected him.
“Hello? This morning? That was two --”
“Was not. I didn’t pull out, did I --”
“That’s not fair! That’s -- oh, Bernard.”
Bernard was staring at them both as if they’d just grown tentacles or something. “Did you -- what are you talking about?”
“Piloting the scout,” Tim said promptly. “What? You can’t have a problem with that?”
“The scout? No -- no problem. I thought --” Bernard shook his head, laughing kind of awkwardly. “I thought -- but that’s . . . yeah, no problem.” And he walked away shaking his head, and muttering something about really needing to get his imagination in check.
Tim and Bart watched him go.
“I’m not that unlikely,” Bart said.
Tim patted him on the head. “That’s the second time,” he said. “We’d better stage a bitter argument over something trivial.”
Bart brightened. “When can we start?”
“Does Kon suspect?” Tim asked, returning to the navigation charts.
“I dunno. I don’t think so,” Bart shrugged. “He’d like me to hook up with you.”
This was news. Tim leaned over, placing himself between Bart and the flight controls, just ensuring Bart’s complete attention “Why?”
Bart blinked. “Well, he keeps saying that you’re a really nice guy and would take care of me. Also that it’s be a good experience and that you seem kind of new to it too -“
“That’s what Kon said?”
Bart considered. “Not all at once. That’s the assembled version.”
This was a setback. Analysis of Kon’s past encounters suggested he had a preference for, well, interesting. If he saw Tim as inexperienced, safe -“Did you do anything to dissuade him of that opinion?”
Bart shook his head. “I thought the fact that you are, when the mood takes you, a heartless sadistic bastard was our little secret?”
Tim blinked at Bart. “ . . . sadistic bastard?”
“Yeah,” Bart was enjoying this. “But only kind of.”
“Only kind of,” Tim said and his voice was low and dangerous. Still leaning into Bart he gave him a look that would have caused most people to reconsider, and/or flee.
Bart just grinned more widely. “That’s what I said.”
“Oh?” said Tim. “I think you need -“
The flight deck door slid open.
“-to learn to pick up after yourself!” Tim continued smoothly. “It’s like rooming with a pig -“
“I would’ve put the engine away when I was finished with it!” Bart took his cue quickly, shoving Tim back so they were no longer sharing a suspicious amount of personal space. “You keep bossing me around -“
“Hey, hey!” Kon interrupted hurriedly. “What’s going on?”
Bart and Tim glared at each other, then looked quickly aside. “Nothing.”
Kon patted Bart on the shoulder. “Not everyone enjoys tripping over bits of machinery whenever they go to cross a room,” he said kindly. “Your shift, yeah? Mind if I have Tim?”
“You can have him all you want,” said Bart.
Tim gave Bart’s shoulder a warning squeeze as he passed - that was not exactly helpful - but Kon didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
“I’ll bring you up dinner later,” he promised, steering Tim out of the flight deck.
“No asteroids,” Tim reminded Bart as they left.
“He’s not as bad as he used to be,” Kon said as they walked towards the galley. “And the heating unit’s been working better ever since he put it back together -“
“After what, 3 days of cold food?” At Kon’s expression, Tim relented. “I’m not really mad at him, but I do wish he’d be more responsible.”
Kon smiled. “You’re only young once. Didn’t you ever get so caught up in something you forgot about your responsibilities?”
“No,” said Tim.
“Come on,” said Kon. “You must have done.”
“Never,” said Tim, with certainty.
Kon looked at him sideways. “You sure you’re human?”
Tim smirked. “I take my responsibilities seriously,” he said. “However, I do have a weakness for calculated risks.”
“Well at least there’s some hope for you,” Kon said doubtfully, hitting the touch pad to open the galley door.
The were two places set at the table, and a meal laid out. Tim looked from the table to Kon, surprised. “What’s this?”
Kon thumped him on the back, pushing him towards the table. “It’s been so busy lately, I never got the chance to thank you for the tea. I’ve never had the real leaves before.”
Tim took a place at the table. “This looks wonderful. You did all this with just the heating unit?”
Kon shrugged. “You don’t work in space as long as I have without picking up a few tricks,” he said. “Besides, I figured that it was about time we talked. Haven’t seen that much of you lately.”
Tim nodded, picking up a fork “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Bart.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” Kon was watching Tim seriously. “What do you think of Bart?”
“Of Bart?” Was Kon going where Tim thought he was going? “He’s okay,” he said cautiously. “Excellent mechanic. I was skeptical at first when Bernard wanted to hire him, but he definitely does his share and more, and he’s easy enough to get along with.”
“And?” Kon prompted. “What do you think about him as a person?”
Kon was going where Tim thought he was going. Crap. “I like him,” he admitted slowly. “He’s not the sort of person I usually make friends with, but I think we get on well despite our differences.”
Kon nodded. “I think he likes you,” he said, it was like seeing footage of a space wreck. You knew what was going to happen, knew you didn’t want to see it, but all the same, you couldn’t look away. “I mean, really likes you.”
“Oh,” said Tim. Then, as more seemed to be expected of him, he added “That’s nice.”
“No, like he could like you like you.”
“I see.” And since Kon was still watching him hopefully, Tim asked. “And you want me to . . . ?”
“Could you give it a go, d’you think? Just try it?”
“I’ve been accused of being callous before,” Tim said. “But my feelings aren’t so superficial I can fall in love on demand.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kon said. “It’s just . . . you would be great for Bart, and he could be good for you too. I think it’s at least worth a try.”
“Sorry, Kon,” Tim said as nicely as he could. “But it would take more than that to get me into a relationship with someone.” Because 15 times wasn’t a relationship, it was research.
“Is it because of Bernard?”
Tim blinked. “What has he got to do with this?”
“I got the impression that -- ah, nevermind. Not important!” Kon said hastily. “So, what would it take to get you into a relationship?”
Tim had to think about that. “Someone who can handle themselves,” he said, thinking of the danger that his line of work often led him into. “Someone who can give as good as they get and not give up. Someone who’s kind and has big hands and a warm smile --”
Kon laughed. “Sounds like you have someone in mind.”
“As a matter of fact --”
“Sorry to interrupt!” Bernard said with a tone of voice that suggested he was not, in fact, sorry at all. “Hey, is it lunchtime?”
Tim could happily have killed him.