tanks4thememory (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tanks4thememory) wrote2020-12-09 10:29 pm
tanks4thememory) wrote2020-12-09 10:29 pm
Two heads are better than one
Who: Clu1 and Clu 2 (a_perfect_end)
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.
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.
no subject
"He used to say we'd add that later," muttered Clu, sad without understanding why. "What's, why, what--" there was nothing wrong with his aesthetic preferences--halogen gold, mellow streetlight orange. They couldn't be wrong and still be perfect, and so instead of asking what was wrong, he changed thequery parameters, blurting: "Why!"
The overcharge, again. Pushing him to reactions he wouldn't normally allow.
Clu didn't quite sigh. He let his head roll back with it, carefully mellowing his next words until they came out sly and curious.
"What's your favorite? We could get some of it up here." After all, under the right conditions, gold and gold made purple. "Don't really know what it was like," he admitted. "The old--! The last system, I mean. Encom's. Yours."
He liked the being braced snug against his code-brother, but man! Man, oh man, he was positive he did not want--whatever it was that was so compelling about standing over his code-brother like that--out on the table between them just yet.
This was all so, new. Better to nip down his runaway tongue for now.
"Bull," a soft snort, though he still had no idea what el toro really had to do with lying, conceptually. "You forget, man, I have stacks of data and a whole pile of logs, now that I know it's you--Reckless and relentless."
But the words were fond. Somehow, at the bottom of this tank of red, Clu had discovered that he was fond of his code-brother. And when he talked of belief, of derezzing for it, something went tight and brilliant deep in Clu, live-wire hot.
"Y'won't have to do that, ever again." It was almost a vow, from someplace deep. "Not with me."
Clu had settled in firmly, discovering that once he was allowed to, he liked that very much. The glint of his code-brother's mischievous smile only just caught his eye.
Something about needing out of his clothes, to which Clu could entirely relate. Even naked, he still felt almost grilled, radiating heat and other energy castoff.
"Yeah," wry, even as he thrilled quietly to the way their heads rested together. The steady nearness of a fond presence. "Yeah, you don't wanna overheat either."
And for the offer of more he let himself gleam in return, circuits and eyes the same kind of bright, a certain sudden laser focus piercing the veil of red.
He meant it for a gradual smooth lean and ended up flopping back onto the mattress, caught a nano in the richness of soft, dark sheets.
"No kidding?" He huffed out a laugh, just a little grit to it. "Man, don't let me stop you."
With a great big grin, all teeth, gazing up at his code-brother with something bright and intense that was too gauzy with energy to be worship.
Clu had never passed up the offer of a show.
no subject
The mention that his code brother didn't know the old Encom system gave him a bit of an idea though. "I could show you, if you want. I've got plenty of memory files, not just from Encom_511, but from a lot of other systems I visited. I could copy some over to a readme, and we could use that as a starting template. Not just for here, but for other places on the Grid too. It wouldn't be too hard to update most structures to reflect the design." Of course doing it Grid wide would be a huge, ongoing project, just due to the sheer scale of it. It would take time. But it would be eminently doable.
He chuckled at the way the admin refuted his claim to having a normal sense of fear. What even was a bull, honestly? In context he knew that it meant 'lies' or 'nonsense', but that was clearly just a euphemism. Were 'bulls' especially dishonest or something, so much so that the terms had come to be interchangeable? Or was there some other connection that he was missing due to not having a User's frame of reference? Probably the latter.
"Just because I don't tend to show fear as often as some doesn't mean I don't feel it. After all, hacking wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I wasn't afraid of getting caught, and the consequences of what that would mean. But for what it's worth, I'm glad that that's one particular fear I don't have to worry about any more."
When his code brother shifted out of his grip, Clu didn't resist, echoing the slight laugh for the way he flopped back. He really was so, so fragged. He made a note in his priority queue to be sure the admin would have something to take the edge off when he woke up, but for now there were other tasks to attend to.
Like pulling his boots off and settling them in front of the little table that housed the disc charging station. An odd action, perhaps, as he could have simply derezzed them with the rest of his clothing template, but old habits died hard. In any case his Grid suit covered his feet, so it didn't really reveal anything, though the fabric wasn't nearly durable enough for extended use walking outside.
Boots set aside, Clu stood up and removed his disc, placing it on the charging station with his code-brother's, noting thankfully that the rack was designed with two charging ports. A hopeful gesture on his brother's part, maybe? Or just the standard design that he'd felt best fit the room? Either way, it worked out, as now he wouldn't have to stack their discs awkwardly on top of one another; it was doable, but not really recommended.
That done, he derezzed his outfit, doing so a bit more slowly than normal from the top down to give the admin a chance to appreciate the view. The circuits revealed largely mirrored those on his default template, at least on his upper body, though the further down they were the more differences became apparent. Perhaps the most obvious difference was the palms of his hands, though, criss-crossed with such a complex web of delicate circuits that they almost seemed to shimmer. A hacker's hands were his most valuable asset, designed to facilitate the optimum connection to the system and make reading and working with code and energy as easy as possible, but Clu's were complex even by hacker standards. It was no wonder Flynn had called him his best.
But his derezzing template also revealed the evidence of how hazardous being a hacker could be, as a number of scars were in evidence. They were obviously long since repaired and well healed, but they were there; mildly discolored bits of surface render that spoke of long ago injuries. Many of them jagged lines that left circuits slightly dimmer where they intersected; clothing templates evened everything out, but on bare shell, the effect was difficult to miss.
Still if Clu was at all self-conscious about them, he didn't show it, instead spreading his arms slightly and turning around once, slowly, so that his code-brother could get a look at him from all angles. "Well?", he said. "What do you think?"
no subject
Clu was aware that he was--touchy--and intensely vain, but something in the hacker's explanation pinged to related ideas, echoed somehow down into his own most private suspicions: that maybe not everything in Clu's own life needed to be a utilitarian monument to his conquests?
And, that, was intriguing.
"Hmm," rumbled Clu, drawn out long through a squint, ending in a puff of air through his nose. Not yes or no, but-- "I mean, it's worth a try."
And at the mention of a readme, at the chance for new data, Clu grinned sharp. The two of them with their heads bent together over a datapad, solving the same problem and cuddling on the same couch, was an abrupt, bright concept that burned warm in his overtuned circuits.
"Yeah, man! If you want, I'd," the thought went slippery, and he finished, "that'd be great."
"You must have seen so many interesting things," with a soft wistfulness he never would've let escape otherwise. Clu caught himself spending far too long wondering what outside was like, how Flynn's world must be, as it was. Tron had looked askance at him for that, asking if he wanted to be like the User--or if he wanted to be him. A ridiculous impossibility and foul sacrilege.
Like most things with Clu, the truth was more direct and much more dangerous: he was curious.
That same curiosity was focused now on the hacker in front of him, his mercurial forked sibling who insisted that he felt fear, all right--and that he felt the joy of facing that fear while achieving his objectives, and that tantalized Clu.
"Oh," gruff, sing-song, "I dunno. You're," how would he have put it in a gloating mood, "wrapped up in my lair, pretty good."
He was sure bull must be some class of monster, a crafty one that always lied. There was a vague concept tag of a tiny man waving something red, and that factored into Clu's hypothesis. The bull itself made no sense, but the useage was clear: any flatly untrue data, often given in an attempt to impress.
But his code-brother was only more impressive for admitting his own fear.
"Oh, I'd like that." To see the whole Grid bloom in the promise of more, a diversity of options he hadn't contemplated. He blinked. "I think."
"Reskinning wouldn't take that long to start," thoughtful, gently letting the idea grow between them out loud, skyscrapers shining in a waterfall of colors sparkling in his processes. "Although it'd choke stuff at scale. Let's--" oh, just maybe--"Let's start with our apartment, huh?"
Ours. It was a hope gently delivered, but unmistakable. He could always plead out, c'mon, I was cooked when I said it: an exit for both of them, no harm done. Clu might be the only one interested in more, and he knew he was--he knew--
It was difficult to hang on to any one specific thought for long. Anyway, he didn't want to chase off such a strong talent, and his code-brother would be staying awhile either way.
The answering laugh had him grinning a bit. His vision was finally straightening out, but his equilibrium was just, gone, and everything felt like it was, sort of hovering. He really was entirely fragged.
Tomorrow would hurt. But that was tomorrow.
Clu sat up a little, swaying, craning his neck for the way the hacker neatly settled his boots by the table, arranging them when he could have dismissed them: it felt like being let in on a secret. And his disc fit the charger elegantly. Clu hadn't quite planned it--that was the charger that came with the table template--but it made for such a nice symmetry.
His code-brother took his time, turning slowly and giving an almost languid tap of dismissal above his collarbone. The template dissolved down his frame in a bright band of disappearance, inch by gleaming inch, betraying geometry only in glimpses. His signature matched his template only so far as the shoulders, and rapidly spread in algebraic intricacy. He grew almost in affine fractals, spiked in complex branches that put Clu in mind of feathers: something intricate and fragile, turned with inifinite precision by an unseen hand. Those magnificent circuits curled up his wrists,, and where Clu himself terminated in the fingers, broad and hot as fangs--his code-brother's lattices ended there, in his palms, in cupped traces so delicate that they seemed to disappear on their edge--
Clu had bright ideas of silk, of web, of lightning, a wash of concepts in User reference that rolled through him in sheer awe.
An entirely different and no less complex feeling boiled through him for the understanding that some of these were scars, one or two thick as rope above dimmed interconnected circuits. Each was a lesson, an act of desperation or bravery knit into his brother's code and worn vivid on his skin.
(What was a net? What was a cobra?)
"Man," low, slow, gone ponderous with heavy regard and the weight of his own tongue. He coughed, once, tried again, trying to sit, straightened. "Man, look at you," But of course he couldn't; Clu did not allow mirrors, not at all, not in his own private space--except--
"You are really something else, you know that?" Bright and forthright. "Classic lines, perfect tuning," grinning, "You are, you're beautiful, and I--I mean," at least 1024 things jammed the queue at once and what escaped was, "Do they hurt?"
Soft concern, with a quiet huff for how it sounded, how it wasn't quite what he'd planned.
"I mean, do they, bother you, will it bother you if I--" red made his tongue fearless even as it slowed him down, "do more than look?"
no subject
Did he want more? He wasn't entirely sure. It'd be something they'd need to discuss when both of them were sober before any real changes were made. But now that the offer was out there for him to consider... he found it interesting, if nothing else. He'd never roomed with anyone else before, and had seldom shared sleeping space with anyone but Bit. What might it be like to take the alliance, and friendship, with his code brother in what for both of them was a new and untested direction? Once things had settled, he was game to find out.
In the present, he allowed the admin to look at his circuits for as long as hi liked. The old systems had favored intricate, narrow patterns, while the Grid favored bolder, thicker circuit lines in simpler arrangements. It proved an interesting contrast, and another graphical shift that he'd privately wondered about. That much had to have been Flynn's idea, and he'd like to know what had prompted it.
Being called 'beautiful' though? That was a new one. His smile broadened, not fading as his scars were mentioned. "At the time they happened, they definitely hurt,", he said. "But now, no. I could probably get rid of them if I was vain enough, but each one of them has a story attached. And I'd rather have the stories than a pristine render."
"So you can touch, if you like." He moved right up against the bed, the circuits on his calves contacting those on his code-brothers as he straddled him while remaining standing. Already touching and eminently touchable. And able to touch in return. He combed the fingers of one hand through the admin's usually (perfectly) neat hair, down the side of his neck to linger on the circular node near his collarbone. His fingers traced the ring, a deliberate tease, judging by the hint of mischief that lit his eyes and turned his smile into a true hacker's grin. "We're going to be doing a lot more touching in a nano anyway."