On the Grid it was a bit weird to want your code-sib. Bundled programs had a free pass in a way: it was different when it was an outcome of their User's design, divinely planned, ordained by something greater for the health and best interests of the whole system.
To snuggle up to the roots of your own fork because you wanted to, when it wasn't even in the spec?
That was weird. Or at least greedy, and therefore also suspect.
It was more accepted out here, at least on the surface. Everyone acknowledged that these things couldn't be helped, that this did happen, if rarely. It was also medically disastrous.
Something in the code. Some error in the hormones and proteins humans were made of, that let them be so close, that had them deeply in love, desperate to mate with each other and flat unable to reproduce. Not because they couldn't. But because the result would be--
Yeah. They weren't having a kid any time soon.
And if it bothered him sometimes--if his deepest issues murmured he was being unfair to his code-brother, who should leave him for an omega who could do it right, that alpha should cut Clu loose already, and find somebody perfect--
Well, those were not new thoughts. It was not new pain. And it was totally not fair to his mate, who'd demonstrated over and over that he was right where he wanted to be. That he would stay and even Clu at his worst couldn't budge him.
This was where his code-brother wanted to be. Right here. With him.
And Clu had no shame.
He had a goal literally in his lap. A glorious hot problem set carved in lean, willing flesh. He could feel the other omega's heartbeat through his back. Frank sprawled against Clu's chest and panted out the front half of a truly wonderful request.
Clu smirked and hung onto him, drawing him tighter into their embrace. Let him wriggle a little, trying the bounds of Clu's grip. Let Frank discover there was no real way out of it except to ask.
And that was not what Frank was asking for.
Clu bit his lips, wetted them with his tongue, and sucked air to find his patience. Hunting his control. Because Frank was smaller, and lighter, and half out of his mind with want. It'd be super easy to--just--
Lift him, and lower him, and push.
Except his code-brother was grinning right back at him and clearly gearing up for something else.
And Clu already had his permission set.
"Yes, alpha." He let the breath out again, all steam, and latched hungry lips on Frank's neck, a quick hard kiss that left sweet salt rich in his mouth.
He felt Frank shiver. Felt him squirm. Pretended not to notice either thing, eyes focused hot on his mate.
"That," he sighed raptly, hot, "is a great idea."
Clu shifted them both, then, just a little--made sure his legs bracketed Frank's on the outside. This meant Clu's--growing difficulty--had a neutral patch of backbone to rest against, aching hard-on and empty wet nest held somewhere less fraught even as the pressure looped up his body. He'd had training. He could take it.
And poor Frank needed what he had.
Clu drew both arms inward and down, used the smooth undersides of his wrists to stroke against Frank's nipples, testing with pressure so light it could have been accidental, except Clu stayed braced just there and held his arms like that, rubbing up against Frank even as his fingers traipsed down the slightest dust of stray cornsilk:
So this was a happy trail. He didn't, do, hair himself, but it was fun to touch, feeling the way Frank's abs hitched a little as his breath quickened, feeling the gather of delicious tension and the softest wiry strands springing under his fingers.
Clu feasted his eyes on alpha--he'd slicked his hands with Frank and was drawing firm, tightening loops that glistened with the other omega's desire, gathering himself hard and red--and admired Frank with his hands. Clu didn't rush, mapping out the springy strands, marveling at the way they grew denser under his fingers until he'd gathered enough to thread them into, and gave a deliberate tug.
Not enough to hurt. Not enough to even sting. Just firm pressure that let Frank know he was there, parting the bush from above with a growl of interest, slipping his fingers just through and gliding them slowly over the edge, lightly flicking at flesh gone hot and silky and soaking wet. Teasing.
"God," was all that escaped, softly, irreverent and reverent at once.
Because this was what it was like. This was how it felt to touch someone else the way alpha liked touching him, until he was panting and desperate. These little light circles that only sometimes reached all the way in, that never, ever quite touched his clit: denied that, even as it poked him, deliberately dodged.
"You're so hot," half a groan, huffed into the back of Frank's neck as he deepened the stroke, entering with a slide to hilt his fingers and take them back, sleek and wet.
So wet, for them, for the sight of alpha's cock sprung to full mast and twitching eagerly in his hand, by now dark with interest and almost too thick for his own tight fist.
Clu never stopped stroking. He hummed in Frank's ear, purring outright: "You feel real good."
With his hand properly soaked, Clu slid it up past Frank's tortured clit, felt it throb in protest as he got himself a nice hot handful of omega cock instead.
Because, at this angle, just south of ninety degrees, pushed down and slightly back in someone else's grip--
When Clu tugged him to attention, the leverage rolled Frank's own balls over that pert, needy little spike, dragging hot fragile skin flushed tight with blood over him again and again in a firm, steady loop.
Frank rolled in his grip, hips bouncing, and let out a sound.
"You are just revved up, aren't you?" Clu latched another harsh kiss into the crest of his shoulder, all smiles.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninetydegrees
(no subject)
To snuggle up to the roots of your own fork because you wanted to, when it wasn't even in the spec?
That was weird. Or at least greedy, and therefore also suspect.
It was more accepted out here, at least on the surface. Everyone acknowledged that these things couldn't be helped, that this did happen, if rarely. It was also medically disastrous.
Something in the code. Some error in the hormones and proteins humans were made of, that let them be so close, that had them deeply in love, desperate to mate with each other and flat unable to reproduce. Not because they couldn't. But because the result would be--
Yeah. They weren't having a kid any time soon.
And if it bothered him sometimes--if his deepest issues murmured he was being unfair to his code-brother, who should leave him for an omega who could do it right, that alpha should cut Clu loose already, and find somebody perfect--
Well, those were not new thoughts. It was not new pain. And it was totally not fair to his mate, who'd demonstrated over and over that he was right where he wanted to be. That he would stay and even Clu at his worst couldn't budge him.
This was where his code-brother wanted to be. Right here. With him.
And Clu had no shame.
He had a goal literally in his lap. A glorious hot problem set carved in lean, willing flesh. He could feel the other omega's heartbeat through his back. Frank sprawled against Clu's chest and panted out the front half of a truly wonderful request.
Clu smirked and hung onto him, drawing him tighter into their embrace. Let him wriggle a little, trying the bounds of Clu's grip. Let Frank discover there was no real way out of it except to ask.
And that was not what Frank was asking for.
Clu bit his lips, wetted them with his tongue, and sucked air to find his patience. Hunting his control. Because Frank was smaller, and lighter, and half out of his mind with want. It'd be super easy to--just--
Lift him, and lower him, and push.
Except his code-brother was grinning right back at him and clearly gearing up for something else.
And Clu already had his permission set.
"Yes, alpha." He let the breath out again, all steam, and latched hungry lips on Frank's neck, a quick hard kiss that left sweet salt rich in his mouth.
He felt Frank shiver. Felt him squirm. Pretended not to notice either thing, eyes focused hot on his mate.
"That," he sighed raptly, hot, "is a great idea."
Clu shifted them both, then, just a little--made sure his legs bracketed Frank's on the outside. This meant Clu's--growing difficulty--had a neutral patch of backbone to rest against, aching hard-on and empty wet nest held somewhere less fraught even as the pressure looped up his body. He'd had training. He could take it.
And poor Frank needed what he had.
Clu drew both arms inward and down, used the smooth undersides of his wrists to stroke against Frank's nipples, testing with pressure so light it could have been accidental, except Clu stayed braced just there and held his arms like that, rubbing up against Frank even as his fingers traipsed down the slightest dust of stray cornsilk:
So this was a happy trail. He didn't, do, hair himself, but it was fun to touch, feeling the way Frank's abs hitched a little as his breath quickened, feeling the gather of delicious tension and the softest wiry strands springing under his fingers.
Clu feasted his eyes on alpha--he'd slicked his hands with Frank and was drawing firm, tightening loops that glistened with the other omega's desire, gathering himself hard and red--and admired Frank with his hands. Clu didn't rush, mapping out the springy strands, marveling at the way they grew denser under his fingers until he'd gathered enough to thread them into, and gave a deliberate tug.
Not enough to hurt. Not enough to even sting. Just firm pressure that let Frank know he was there, parting the bush from above with a growl of interest, slipping his fingers just through and gliding them slowly over the edge, lightly flicking at flesh gone hot and silky and soaking wet. Teasing.
"God," was all that escaped, softly, irreverent and reverent at once.
Because this was what it was like. This was how it felt to touch someone else the way alpha liked touching him, until he was panting and desperate. These little light circles that only sometimes reached all the way in, that never, ever quite touched his clit: denied that, even as it poked him, deliberately dodged.
"You're so hot," half a groan, huffed into the back of Frank's neck as he deepened the stroke, entering with a slide to hilt his fingers and take them back, sleek and wet.
So wet, for them, for the sight of alpha's cock sprung to full mast and twitching eagerly in his hand, by now dark with interest and almost too thick for his own tight fist.
Clu never stopped stroking. He hummed in Frank's ear, purring outright: "You feel real good."
With his hand properly soaked, Clu slid it up past Frank's tortured clit, felt it throb in protest as he got himself a nice hot handful of omega cock instead.
Because, at this angle, just south of ninety degrees, pushed down and slightly back in someone else's grip--
When Clu tugged him to attention, the leverage rolled Frank's own balls over that pert, needy little spike, dragging hot fragile skin flushed tight with blood over him again and again in a firm, steady loop.
Frank rolled in his grip, hips bouncing, and let out a sound.
"You are just revved up, aren't you?" Clu latched another harsh kiss into the crest of his shoulder, all smiles.
"Look how much alpha likes it."