Here you'll find
Shaun and Fonzo on a mission, takes place some time after Traces of Doubt. Inspired by the founding of (sadly short-lived) LiveJournal communities "Burly Uke Fancier Federation" and "Diminutive Delicate Semes"...
Fonzo wasn't sure whether it was a good or bad thing that the audio systems had been switched into closed-circuit mode so that they couldn't hear a thing outside the Control Room. Before this mission, he'd never realized just how horribly unreal a battle could look when merely viewed on the monitoring screen. Like some goddamn game, he thought bitterly, except that this was no game. The pilots really were out there, they were really shooting at the Union fighters that were firing at them in return, and each time a dot vanished from the kaleidoscope, it meant the end of another life.
Fonzo swallowed and wondered if he'd ever get used to this, and if he actually even wanted to, then pushed those unnecessary thoughts aside as he ducked out of the monitoring room and lumbered towards the hangar area. This was war, and the main thing was that their own guys and girls had won again.
The corridor seemed to close in on him, and he cursed under his breath. Goddamn it, what had made him again volunteer to squeeze himself into one of these bloody tin cans for weeks or maybe months on end, even though he knew already how cramped and claustrophobic he'd feel within a few hours of takeoff. All right, so he could basically walk about without hunching or drooping his head, but it didn't feel like he could. Every place felt too small, the walls too close, the doorways too narrow - only the actual hangar was OK. So, why the hell was he here?
Of course he knew the reason; he was on his way to meet it. The returning fleet would soon be back and, thank goodness, it still included Fonzo's reason for doing a hell of a lot of things he'd otherwise not even dreamed of. His big hands balled into fists and he swallowed, offering sincere thanks to whatever might be listening and appreciating such thanks.
The large man spun around and smiled to Lancer who emerged from the direction of the cannon banks and ran to catch up with him. "Good work, babe!"
"Oh, we kicked their ass royally!" Lancer flashed a feral grin and pulled off the inevitable violet bandanna that was now more than a little sweaty. "The guys will be back soon, better hurry."
They reached the hangars within minutes and stopped to wait. Here they could at least listen to the approaching pilots' exchanges with the Control Room, and Fonzo's eyebrows rose as he heard the tone of the conversation. Underneath the tightly controlled and formulaic surface, the voices were ringing with barely repressed excitement. Lancer smiled, his breathing still quick.
"Squadron, prepare for landing." Scott's voice was precise as ever. "Distances one-oh-oh, interval seven-five. Proceed."
"Man, sounds like I'm in for a rough ride," Lancer murmured to himself, eyes glittering with amusement.
"What do you mean?" Fonzo grunted. Frankly, to him all voices sounded so impersonal over the comm, so tinny and neutral. Lancer grinned again.
"Believe me, I can hear when Scott is on an adrenaline high," he purred. "Don't tell me Shaun is in no way different after a battle?"
Fonzo frowned to himself, listening to the sounds carried from the other side. The planes were coming in, and just about now the M-clones would be flocking in to take the first look at any damage they'd suffered. In about an hour, Fonzo knew, he would be getting their report. But before that, he'd have time to make sure Shaun was all right.
He waited impatiently for his special S-clone to emerge - always among the last, of course, right next to the upright figure of his commanding officer Scott. Shaun was practically bouncing along and Fonzo's heart skipped a few beats, as always, when Shaun stopped in front of him and tilted his head back to meet the man's gaze. Shaun's face was flustered, his short fringe spiky with sweat.
"Good job," Fonzo offered. Scott nodded.
"I am very pleased with the performance of the entire squadron," he said smugly. "Shaun, you are dismissed now."
"See you later, Scott!" Shaun turned once more to Fonzo who sighed in relief and grabbed the boy into a one-armed hug.
"Good to have you back, kid," he mumbled hoarsely.
Shaun wrapped his arms around the man's waist and squeezed as tight as he could, satisfied to hear the answering grunt.
"I want to shower," he said. "Will you come with me?"
"Sure." Fonzo didn't let go, and together they turned to retreat to their own little cabin. They resolutely ignored the fact that Lancer's prophecy seemed to be coming true at an alarming speed; well, Fonzo was rather sure that Lancer had more than a little to do with that, considering that currently his tongue was rather deep in Scott's throat. Funny, though - usually those two didn't manage to embarrass him even when they got openly touchy-feely. Probably his reaction now was because this was the first mission where he'd followed Shaun after the two of them had... well, become a couple.
Shaun glued himself to Fonzo's side as tightly as he could, internally cursing Fonzo's habit of always wearing one-piece overalls. Thus there was no chance of his slipping his hand anywhere where it might find bare skin. Shaun breathed in the man's familiar scent and closed his eyes briefly. His Fonzo...
Shaun's arm tightened. His heart was still beating madly, blood buzzed in his ears, and his whole body was tingling a little from the rush of battle. As if he'd flown directly through a power field. So he might be genetically enhanced to handle higher levels of stress without negative effects on their abilities and performance, but the adrenaline rush was still there, and it did affect him too. It was a heady feeling. Shaun liked it.
Shaun glanced at Fonzo who looked as if he were trying to shrink several sizes when they entered the cabin. The limited quarters truly got to his gigantic companion...
"Sit down," Shaun commanded and opened his flying suit in one swift motion. "You look uncomfortable."
"I am uncomfortable," Fonzo said and perched obediently on the edge of the bed. "Really, why can't they make these things any roomier? As if there weren't enough materials, to stretch the dimensions a little!"
"There are not that many people who are over 2 meters tall," Shaun pointed out and peeled the suit down from his shoulders. "You could have stayed back home on Jainah."
"And not see you for ages?" Fonzo shook his head, then averted his eyes as more and more of the flat, tightly muscled plains of Shaun's body were revealed. "Nuu-uh. Want to be with you, kiddo."
"And I am damn happy that you are here." Shaun stepped out of the suit, offering Fonzo a good, albeit only momentary, glimpse of his rounded buttocks. "Because I want to have sex with you."
Fonzo gulped as the boy turned around once more and he could see a very tangible piece of evidence of just how truthful that statement was.
"I'll be needed soon," he said weakly.
"You are needed right now," Shaun retorted, eyes taking an even more determined glint. "Fonzo. Are you going to start wriggling again?"
Fonzo took a deep breath, then grabbed the young man into a hug and fell on his back on the bed, pulling the tiny S-clone along. "No," he murmured into a kiss. "No wriggling, baby. Just trying to be proper here."
"Well, then just quit that for a while." Shaun squirmed until he got his hands between them, arranged his throbbing erection more comfortably, and began the task of finally getting his hands on Fonzo's naked skin.
"Ohh fuck," Fonzo groaned when the pilot's skilled hands found the control stick they'd been looking for and wrapped securely around it.
"Very good idea." Shaun squeezed tighter.
"No it's not!" Fonzo wheezed when the starburst before his eyes cleared a little. "If you're unable to sit tomorrow, Scott will kill me."
"Get rid of these then!" Shaun slithered to lie on the bed next to Fonzo and tugged demandingly at the overall that the man was still somewhat wearing. Fonzo wrestled the piece of clothing from underneath himself and finally kicked it onto the floor, then rolled on his stomach and looked questioningly over one burly shoulder.
Shaun gave him a gleeful grin in reply, and Fonzo felt a slim, determined hand touch something cool and slippery on his ass. He sighed and let his head sink between folded arms and just listened to the confident touch. Okay, so Shaun hadn't been practicing this for very long, but S-clones were truly remarkable learners. Especially when they really put their heart into it... Fonzo arched into the touch and hissed when he heard Shaun's breathless chuckle.
"Come on, baby," Fonzo husked and lifted his hips enough to nudge the boy's hip teasingly. "Fuck me, Shaun."
Sharp teeth nipped his back, then Fonzo felt the slick pressure of Shaun's cock and moaned. Shaun's wiry arms wound tightly around the man's impressive torso as he pushed in, eyes glazing over under the volley of sensations. He was practically riding on his lover, clinging tight, reaching to let his fingers entwine with Fonzo's around the man's engorged cock, to pleasure him, to feel when Fonzo came. He closed his eyes and focused all his attention to just feeling, and hearing how their uneven panting and grunts mixed together.
"Fuck... fuck... fuck..." Fonzo didn't know he was repeating it like a mantra at every thrust that hit home. Shaun was holding on to him like an octopus, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Neither of them would. He pushed up against Shaun and felt fingers digging into his thigh, deep.
When Shaun's death grip gradually loosened, Fonzo managed to turn over enough to grab the boy into his arms and just hold tight - but very gently. Even though he knew well enough that Shaun's lithe form was nowhere near as fragile as it might appear at first glance, for some reason this was the moment when he was just about painfully aware of the fact that he weighed more than twice as much as his lover. It did occasionally slip from his mind when they were completely involved in having sex - something Fonzo was ashamed to admit even to himself - but for some reason he couldn't help thinking of it afterwards.
"Feeling good, baby?" he murmured.
"Ooooh yes." Shaun nuzzled Fonzo's broad chest and grinned, Fonzo could hear it. "Now we both need a shower."
"We're being good," Fonzo observed. "Sparing water, and so on. Kudos to us."
"Yay," Shaun agreed with a yawn. "Must get up right now."
He didn't stir a finger to follow his own advice, just nestled closer to Fonzo humming satedly.
"Now I understand at last why Scott is always in such a hurry to get back," he announced after a thoughtful while. "I have never understood really what it is that I feel after a battle, but now I do."
"What?" Fonzo tried to see the clone's face and Shaun peered quizzically up at him.
"Horny. I was horny."
"Shaun." Fonzo gulped. "You shouldn't talk like that, you know."
"No, I do not know!" Shaun heaved a long-suffering sigh and crawled out of bed. In the middle of the little room - which meant about three steps from the bed - he struck a pose, one hand on hip, and raised questioning eyebrows at Fonzo. "If I am horny, why should I not say so? Do not be silly, Fonzo. Are you coming to shower with me or not?"
He disappeared into their tiny bathroom. For a moment Fonzo just stared after him, hands folded behind his neck, and wondered how the hell they both were going to fit in there. Then he slowly sat up and scratched his shoulder that was still tingling a little from the last bite.
Had it been very clever to get involved with an S-clone fighter pilot? Definitely not. But then, Fonzo mused with a happy smile as he crossed the cabin with a couple of long strides to do the impossible and join Shaun in the shower, he hadn't been given much choice in the matter.