Corsex: the Adventure Continues, Part II
Rating: R / Slash
"I should probably ask how you came to be in such a compromising position with Major Janson on the couch in your office ..." Wedge held up a hand to stop the response. "But, that isn't necessary. I had a very long and informational conversation with Winter earlier today. She told me what happened at Corsex. I'm not sure she'd be surprised to find you wrestling on your office couch with Janson in the middle of the day."
His brow furrowed, and he ran a hand through his dark hair unconsciously while he searched for the right words. "I'm ... stunned. I feel I've just finished a three day bender. I can't see to get my sluggish brain to process this new information. I'm so hard I don't think my erection is ever going to go away. And it's all... your ... fault." Tycho was practically glowing, and Wedge glared at him. "Say something, damn you, and it had better start with 'I am so sorry, Wedge ...'"
The corners of Tycho's mouth turned up in amusement. "Consider it said. I don't know what happened. I swear that I didn't wake yesterday morning and think 'Today would be a good day to seduce a junior officer. Oh, I know, I'll show Wes what he's been missing all these years by not sleeping with men. That will make things more interesting around base for Wedge and me.'"
"Of course you didn't," Wedge grumbled at his best friend. "I can forgive you for the mess, but there is still one sticking point that I just can't seem to get past ..." Wedge stopped and waited for Tycho to ask.
Once the question hung in the air between them, Wedge's dark eyes flashed with malice. "I. SAW. HIM. FIRST. Don't think for a minute I'm ever going to let you forget that little detail."
Tycho winced. "You're going to want revenge aren't you? Shit. Look, Wedge I'm really sorry I poached. Would it make you feel better if I gave you a free shot? I owe you at least that much."
"It just might," Wedge grumped. Then, he shook his head. "I'm not in the habit of hitting my XOs, or anyone else for that matter, so why would I start now?"
"Well, most of the time you're so calm and reasonable I forget you're a full blooded Corellian, until someone really pisses you off. You get this scary, evil look in your eye. The look you're wearing right now, as a matter of fact. The entire galaxy knows Corellians like to hit things when they get angry."
That made a hint of a smile pull at the corners of Wedge's mouth. "I don't want to hit you, Tycho. You're the best friend I've got. And though I loathe adding air to your ego, you're a fine officer and a damn fine XO."
"So how do we fix this?"
"Every Rogue has a quota of screw-ups per year that have to be forgiven and forgotten. I think Luke scribbled it in at the back of the rule book before he gave it to me. I don't think you've done any major fucking up for years, so I supposed that means you're due. I will cancel any plans I had for revenge. This time."
Tycho sighed with relief. Since the naked Wes Ewok thing, people tended to give Wedge more respect as a prankster and didn't cross him lightly.
"If you're going to continue to poach, it would please me if you would try wrestling with Wes on my couch next time." He gave Tycho a wink. "I could pretend to be off-base if you think it would make him more agreeable to the idea ..."
Tycho smiled. "Wedge, if you had watched for about five seconds longer in my office, you would have seen Wes agree quite hotly all over us both."
"It was a pure luck the man made your fifteen minute deadline, with all the washing up and changing he had to do."
"I caused it?" Wedge was incredulous.
"We were hot and heavy, sure, but it was your suggesting a threesome that made Wes lose it." Wedge's dark eyes narrowed slightly. Tycho could almost see Wedge's brain filing the information into a neat little compartment to be acted upon at a later date. "I don't lie when it comes to orgasms." Tycho added, "I've been thinking and I'm pretty sure a make out session on YOUR office couch would appeal to Wes's childish sense of adventure."
"How long do you think it would take to get a tech in here to set up a holocam system?"
"Don't even THINK about it, General. Last thing I need is to have something like that find its way into prankster hands. You want to watch holovids of naked Wes to entertain you on long missions, you can star in them yourself."
Wedge growled, "Who said I would watch holovids of naked Wes on long missions?"
"I've had my R2 unit pick up your cockpit holo feed, my friend, and it seems to be stuck in a loop of Wes stripping in a maintenance closet and Wes wearing nothing but an Ewok doll while Wraith squadron, and someone's holorecorder, checks out his gorgeous ass."
Wedge launched himself out of his chair and Tycho jumped two steps back at the sudden movement. "You spied on me?"
The General stalked around desk and Tycho held his hands up, started a strategic withdrawal from Wedge's office. "Only once. After I copied the holovid onto my feed, I didn't need to watch yours anymore."
"You ... copied ... it ... from ... my ... private ... cockpit ... feed?" Wedge's teeth were clenched and each step brought him closer to the retreating Colonel. When Tycho's back bumped the wall, Wedge grabbed him by the front of his shirt.
"Sorry. Wedge. General. Sir. It was naked Wes!" Tycho cleared his throat to get rid of the squeak in his voice. "I mean ... a moment of weakness. Never'll happen again."
"Damn right it won't." Wedge fumed, "I know who holds your leash, friend, and I've seen what she can do."
"That has to be one of the coldest threats you've ever made."
The anger drained away from Wedge, and he let go of Tycho. He absentmindedly ran a light hand over Tycho's shirtfront to smooth out the wrinkles. "I can't hit you. I need my hand unbruised to fly tomorrow. I guess that means I am going to take some kind of terrible revenge on you. I have a reputation to maintain with the pilots. Can't let them think I'm getting ... soft."
Tycho swallowed the lump of dread in his throat and nodded, "I understand."
"You can go." Wedge inclined his head toward the door and gave the blonde man a mad half smile. Tycho shuddered as he fled.
Alone at last, Wedge went back to his desk and picked up his datapad. "The way things are going I'll never be soft again." He keyed the encrypted file 'WJ1' to play and kicked his feet up on the desk to enjoy the show. He never seemed to grow tired of that view.
* * * * *
Seated on a stool at the bar, Wes found himself again the object male attention. Two large men approached him and everything about their builds and the way they moved seemed to scream "stormtrooper," except without the benefit of the armored helmet faceplates to hide the leering expressions.
They took up residence on the stools to the left and right of Wes's, trapping him between them. The man on the left ordered half a dozen whiskey shots. While the ex-trooper on the right went for a tumbler of the house's best Churban brandy. When they had their drinks, they returned their attention to Wes.
"You looked good up there on the auction block last night, Janson. It's a shame that Celchu outbid me. If I didn't know better, I'd think he did it deliberately."
Wes frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Celchu's a great fuck, and a decent slave, but he doesn't have the balls to be a good master, and he knows it. I think he bought you so I couldn't have you. Spoilsport."
Wes opened his mouth to defend Tycho's abilities as a master, and to point out that Tycho spent all day long issuing orders and he was damn good at it, but he recognized the man baiting him, and chose to come back with something less defensive. "I don't have any complaints."
The man on his other side spoke up, "Of course you wouldn't, because you've probably never had a real master. You don't even have a mark on you. Last time I was master to Colonel Rogue, the bruises and welts must have lasted two weeks, at least."
Wes felt himself wince. He had assumed Tycho had followed him here to spy on him, to play babysitter. Now he had two disturbing mental pictures of Tycho with these men at CorSex and it had nothing whatsoever to do with him. It sounded more like Tycho was the one who needed a sitter.
It was now sinking in that Tycho had probably only won the bidding to save Wes's ass, probably literally, from the two men with whom he was now having a drink.
The first man laid a hand on Wes's shoulder. "I hope he had the sense to work all those credits off on your ass, at the very least."
Wes shrugged off the unwelcome touch, "No, it wasn't like that."
"I knew he was an idiot." The man on the right sighed, regretfully. "Why don't you come with me and I'll show you what being a slave is really about?"
"If it's all the same to you," Wes replied, feeling a bit sick. "I've got other plans for the night."
"Suit yourself, but you'll never know what you're missing." The two men finished their drinks, and left.
"Sithspawn! What a mess ..." Wes moaned into his second glass of expensive Churban brandy. He lifted the cool glass and pressed it to his right temple in an attempt to ease the throbbing in his head. "I suppose it could have been worse, though."
Oh yes, it could have been a total stranger that seduced him, and not someone he knew and trusted with his life on a daily basis. Somehow, he never figured Tycho for a guy who would want any other man, let alone him. What did he really know about Tycho? Not enough, that was damn sure.
Wes could never tell Hobbie or anyone else what had happened, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. At least, he didn't think he regretted it tonight, but how he would feel when Tycho sat down to breakfast in the morning, same as every other morning, was another matter entirely.
It seemed like those few hours had been days ago, back before the great revelation. That was when he had been blissfully unaware of certain things, like the fact that men wanted his body. Or, that he actually would enjoy men wanting said body.
As if to add an emphasis to Wes's thoughts, a voice crooned across the bar from him, "Get you another, handsome?" The human bartender added a wink and leer that was getting to be too familiar for Wes's comfort.
Since when had he become Wes Janson Object Of Desire for countless men, women and aliens? Sure, being a virtual sex god was one of Wes's fantasies, but that was until cold, cruel reality had come along and slapped him on his nearly bare ass.
Wes frowned at the man, but his brain was still cycling way too fast. "Maybe I should get another drink," Wes sighed, as he thought about the rendezvous later with Tycho.
"Another drink is the last thing you need," a new voice said firmly, from behind him.
Wes turned to scowl at the newcomer and froze when he realized it was Winter. Colonel Celchu's Winter, the NRI agent with one hundred percent perfect memory recall. Right now her perfectly accurate brain was recording him gathering some liquid courage to go sleep with her boyfriend, fiancée, lover ... He was dead. His body just didn't know it, yet.
Winter laughed at his terror. "Take it easy, Wes. I'm not here to beat the Sith out of you for last night. Yes, I know all about last night. I was here with Ty when he bought you."
"Ty?" Wes gaped. Tycho never went by anything except Tycho. The one time he had jokingly shortened Tycho's name to Ty, he'd had a split lip and loose teeth to show for it. Granted it had been early in their acquaintance, but still. It hurt. That was one lesson that didn't bear repeating. Now, he stuck with Colonel or Sir, as if the man had no first name.
Winter ran a hand over Wes's bare shoulder, admiring fist sized the Rogue insignia that was stenciled on his left shoulder blade. "This is nice. I like it." It was excellent work, and when he'd seen how nicely it turned out, the thought had crossed his mind to get it permanently inked into his skin. "You could make it permanent."
"Yeah, I might." Wes winced as Winter's wandering fingertips grazed a spot on his ribs that was ticklish. He squirmed as she brushed the same spot a second time to test his response.
"I like this ... thing ... you're wearing. There's almost nothing to it. In fact, from the right angle I can see ..."
Wes practically fell of his bar stool attempting to get out of arms reach of her. He backed away from the bar. She was trying to get him killed, whether she realized it or not. One look at her face, told him that she knew exactly what she was doing. There was some sort of devious plot at work. Wes was usually the one doing the plotting and he didn't like it one bit being on the receiving end.
Survival instincts kicking in, Wes raised a hand. "No more touching. My birthday is next month and I want to live to see it. If the Colonel sees us touching, I'm a dead-man."
Winter smiled sweetly. "Under normal circumstances, with a normal couple, that would be true. Like if we were caught making out on the couch in Tycho's office, for example ..."
His jaw dropped. "You know about that??" Wes squawked. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.
She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "These aren't normal circumstances; this is Corsex. And when we are here, Tycho and I have developed a whole different set of rules to play by. We share. Everything. Equally. It works out quite well. Sharing is only the first rule, though ..." Winter reached over and took hold of Nola's arm as the other woman walked past them. She tugged the redhead close and kissed her passionately on the mouth. "Nola is a good friend of mine. She likes to keep me occupied when Ty is off for months at a time and I am home alone. Tycho has his own playmates to keep him busy and out of trouble." She ushered Wes back to his seat and took the stool beside him.
"Are you sure I can't have another drink?" Wes whimpered, "Watching you kiss her is the hottest thing I've ever seen."
The two women wore smug expressions. "Men are so easy. It was a simple kiss, not like you watched us have sex ..."
"Can I do that?" With wide disbelieving eyes, Wes panted at the mere suggestion.
"Maybe for your birthday, if you are a good boy. But that would mean ..." Winter slid off her bar stool and glided forward in her impossibly tall nerf hide boots until she was almost nose to nose with the Rogue, "no more make-out sessions on Tycho's office couch or anywhere on that base." Her voice had turned hard, cold and deadly serious. "This is the only warning I am going to give you. He'll tell me if you act up. I'll get you the next time you show up here to play ... and paddle your adorable ass black and blue."
"Sounds like fun?" Wes attempted to joke.
"No. Not fun. Do we have an understanding, Wes Janson?"
Wes lowered his eyes. "I'll behave."
Winter leaned in the centimeter separating them and licked Wes's pouty bottom lip. That brought Wes's eyes back to hers. "You've got a busy night ahead of you. I'm going to help you get ready ..."
Wes nodded, "Yes, Mistress."
Winter smiled. "Fast learner. I like that in a man."
* * * * *
"That adorable Rogue pilot is back from the baths, Mistress Winter ..."
Winter stopped kissing Tycho long enough to say, "Thank you, Nola." She reached out and caressed the young woman's hand. "Would you make sure he finds his way back into the Dungeon for us?"
The redhead flashed Winter a sly smile. "I already did, Mistress."
Winter pulled the young woman down and gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Good girl. You can run along and get something to drink at the bar, if you'd like ..." Winter winked at her. "Don't be too long, though. I might start to miss you."
"Of course, Mistress."
Tycho watched the exchange from his place on the bed beside Winter, but he wasn't bothered by his love kissing the redhead. In fact, he'd kissed her more than a few times himself. Nola was a sweet kid, and she had joined him and Winter a time or two in their 'scenes' at Corsex. He appreciated that she kept Winter happy when he couldn't.
Once Nola left, Winter turned her attention back to Tycho, but instead of returning to their kiss and cuddle session, she gave him a worried frown. "Tycho, I don't think this is a good idea. Wes is a Rogue, again. You've held on to these feelings for him for so long, are you sure you can be an objective superior officer to him if you take this any further?"
Tycho sighed, "I don't know if I've ever been objective when it comes to Wes Janson, Winter. He just slips right past all the defenses." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "A lot like someone else, I know."
"I'd like it better if I believed it was just a simple case of long-term unresolved lust."
She was frowning even harder, now, and Tycho knew he was not going to be the winner in this verbal dog-fight. "I'm attracted to Wes, I always have been, but this is starting to feel more complicated than lust."
Winter gave a resigned sigh. "I know that, I was here last night, remember?" She smiled at her lover with affection. "Remind me again, Colonel, how many times we had sex last night before we burned up all your excess horniness?"
"I lost track after five ..." Tycho grinned.
"You would," Winter countered, "I'm a bit sore."
"Sorry about that, really, I did get a bit rough." There was real remorse in his tone.
"I think it would be sporting of you to give Wedge a call and invite him in on tonight's activities."
"Sporting?" Tycho looked skeptical.
"Fair." Tycho muttered a curse and put a hand over his eyes.
Winter patted his bare thigh. "None of that, now. We both know you're not happy being on top. If you give that role over to Wedge, you can concentrate on introducing Wes to other things. It would make Wedge really happy. A happy, sexually satisfied CO is always a good thing."
"Don't wanna share ..." Tycho grouched.
Winter hugged Tycho close, running her fingers through his sand colored hair. "My poor Rogue ... Do you really want to hurt your friendship with your best friend for a few stolen kisses?"
"You've never been kissed by Wes before ..." Tycho sighed, touching his hair to smooth out the mess Winter made of it.
"Should I be jealous?" Winter smiled her best wicked, teeth-baring grin.
"I should be the one worrying about you and Nola." Tycho countered, good naturedly.
"Nice kid to play with, but I've already got one permanent slave and not nearly enough time to discipline him properly."
* * * * *
"Antilles." The voice crackled over the comlink.
"Wedge, it's Tycho. Are you in the middle of anything right now?"
A slight pause followed. "No. I'm surprised to hear from you, though. I assumed you'd have your hands full right about now ... with the situation we discussed earlier."
"The situation has been delayed slightly, and ... well, I have a proposition for you."
"What do you mean by proposition, exactly?" Wedge questioned, his voice laced with suspicion and something darker.
Tycho had to smile. "Meet me here. ASAP. I need you to take control of this situation. It's more complex than I let on earlier. I thought I could handle it, but I think this needs your touch."
"Are you drunk? If that's a joke, it's not damn funny."
"Wedge, I'm not drunk. I'm worried that I'm going to mess this up. I don't want to fuck ... this ... up…"
There was another long pause. "Fine. I've got an ETA of twenty minutes."
"I'll have someone waiting at the door to escort you back."
"See you in twenty."
"Thank you." Even over the comlink Tycho could pick up the emotion in the simple statement. This was as important to Wedge as it was to him and he'd done the right thing to include him.
"That's what best friends are for." The connection ended and Tycho went to prepare Wes for Wedge's arrival with a genuine smile on his face.
* * * * *
Tycho took a deep breath and opened the door to the room where he knew Wes was waiting for him, being careful that he could see and not be seen until he was sure that Wes had the blindfold on. He was greeted by the sight of a blindfolded Wes Janson, wearing a fluffy Corsex issued spa robe belted at the waist. He was sprawled out on the bed with his hands folded behind his head looking relaxed and luscious enough to eat.
Unconsciously, Tycho licked his lips as flicked off the lights and made his way across the room to greet his would-be lover.
"Master?" Wes asked, cautiously.
Tycho climbed onto the satin covered bed. He crawled up the length of Wes's prone form and pressed a tender kiss to Wes's forehead. "Yes. I'm here ..." Tycho smiled at Wes's sigh of relief. The man really had no idea what that sound did to Tycho's already throbbing cock. This was going to be a long night, but if he had his way, they would part company tonight as something more like lovers than fuck buddies. And, if he were lucky, Wes would come away with a new appreciation for men as potential lovers.
Tycho spent hours preparing for this encounter. He made sure everything would be perfect, but nothing he could do to prepare made him ready for the way it felt as Wes took his hands from behind his head and ran them over Tycho's shoulders, down his arms, over his pectoral muscles. Or for the way he almost lost control completely when Wes grabbed his head and pulled him down for a bone melting kiss.
"Bad slave," Tycho grumbled. "You are wearing too many clothes ... and ..." Another kiss and he was nearly lost. As if to challenge Tycho's role as Master, Wes rolled them over and then he was on top.
The robe was gaping enough for Tycho to register that Wes was naked beneath it. "Forgive me, Master, but I was hoping you would take them off for me ..." Wes hissed, his breath hot in Tycho's ear. "I really like your hands on me. Not that I wouldn't mind spending time exploring every inch of your body, this time."
Tycho rolled them back over and he started to strip the beautiful body trapped beneath him. "If you are a good slave, I think we can arrange for even more than that." He laid a hot moist kiss on each of Wes's bare nipples, then returned to the first one, licking and teasing it hard before moving on to the other one. Tycho found himself smiling at the shudder it brought from Janson. This was going to be so much fun.
To Part I | To Part III
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