Two heads are better than one

[tanks4thememory]

Who: Clu1 and Clu 2 (a_perfect_end)

Where: Their User world abode and possibly other places

When: Some undetermined time post Legacy and after this thread

What: ABO sexytimes and maybe other things; a Clu on Clu catchall

Warnings: VERY NSFW. Multiple kinks, ABO related warnings, sorta incest depending how you view programs from the same User, basically enter at your own risk if you're not into that sort of thing

The life and times- and sexytimes of Clus One and Two in the ABO universe, collected here for the sake of convenience and avoiding page clutter. Multiple scenarios, lots of fun. Mostly of the NSFW variety.

Comments

[a_perfect_end]

Their first true coupling had a harsh bronze gauze over it in Clu's mind. Even back in the system, that night had pieces missing, and the loss was more pronounced out here. Users couldn't interlink their data--instead they relied on words, pictures, and video. It was nothing even close to the same fidelity. If Clu wanted a memory on the Grid, all he had to do was summon the file, however damaged or incomplete it was.

Out here it was so much easier to forget.

It didn't help that it wasn't something he rushed to remember. Even now, it stung with chagrin, between the desperate push for more energy and the certainty he would expire--the faint hope of it shivering through his every circuit, raw to the edge of melting.

But the overwhelming feel/taste/input of that much power? And the truly vile upcycle afterward was, ah. It was--

It had been an important lesson.

And his code-brother stayed.

Clu might not remember precisely why, or how, but he remembered his code-brother's help. Even now the soothing draw of that calming grip was clear in his mind, gentle and sure even as they'd begun to cling desperately together. Clu recalled perfectly the firm reassurance of his code-brother's full weight pressed close despite the fury of exchange. They'd booted up almost as one, still tangled together, and slipped into the same deep downcycle.

He would never forget that.

And gradually they found reasons to meet again, coordinating their free time so that it was spent in each other's company. Sometimes resting, sometimes not resting, which was how he'd discovered by degrees that yielding power was even better than taking it, and best when it was shared. Often, though, they just talked: about their ideas for the Grid, about their plans and partnership--and not, so much, about how it had started.

It thrummed between them not-quite-mentioned, not quite referenced, but always understood: here was safety. They could rely on each other.

His code-brother never pressed him for details, and Clu never touched the red again.

And his code-brother was still with him, even with that night a world away and long behind them. He'd stuck right by Clu through every strange thing they'd crashed through on the way here.

Clu was realizing that he would stay no matter what.

And if sometimes Clu asked for unusual things--if sometimes they played house with the curtains drawn, or if once in a while he made dinner in heels--if he needed to be taken care of in ways that were, very different, maybe that was okay.

Her lovely former bachelor did not seem to mind at all, nuzzled close, wry and contrite about the silly eggs.

"You're getting better," gently. "Your roast was great! We'll make a chef out of you yet."

And as for their little darling--she hummed against him, thinking.

"Sarah Marie?" Trying it, imagining the bright, ready smile and a wash of golden curls. Let them eat cake. "Oh, twice a princess. She'll break hearts with a name like that. It's perfect!"

He brushed up to her in a way that tugged, all over. Their hips swiveled together and she felt the pull in and below her swollen belly, everything impossibly heavy, thick with potential. Exquisite and unexpected.

There was a bright, spreading ache where she was getting ready to nurse, just where his shoulders encroached on hers.

He was all innocent smiles above his cocoa.

"You know, dear," she breathed, trying not to wiggle, "If you're, ah, feeling the squeeze, you--" Oh, the thought of more contact had her skin humming, "Ah, you just ought to fit in my lap."

Maybe. With a little effort.