Folie à Deux: Part 1
Gillian F. Taylor
Tycho stumbled through the door to the bedroom, his lips locked on Wedge's, hands pulling at Wedge's uniform. They halted by the bed, arms tight around one another, Tycho's mouth working its way down Wedge's throat and onto the area of chest exposed by his half-open shirt.
"Mmm, yes, Tycho." Wedge's voice was husky with need.
Tycho straightened, grinned at Wedge for a moment, then pushed him backwards. Wedge fell across the wide bed and Tycho dropped on top of him, pinning him against the mattress. Wedge's dark hair was still slightly damp from the post-flight shower, and his skin smelt deliciously of soap. Tycho yanked Wedge's shirt all the way open and began kissing the tense muscles of his flat stomach. Wedge moaned, burying one hand in Tycho's dark blond hair. The bulge in his trousers showed how much he needed release. Tycho wriggled off the bed, giving the bulge a squeeze in passing, and started stripping boots, socks and trousers from both of them.
Their lovemaking was so often like this after battle. Fast, urgent, sometimes rough. It was a very physical coming together, to reassure themselves that they were alive, intact. And after a fight like today's, the need was even stronger.
Very quickly, Tycho had them both naked. He bent his head to Wedge's stiff penis, savouring it as Wedge moaned.
"Ty, now. Please."
Tycho would have liked to take longer, but he knew what Wedge needed at this moment. He spread himself full length over Wedge's body for a few seconds, drinking in a deep kiss, then he picked up the lube from the bedside unit. Wedge spread his legs eagerly, drawing his knees up as Tycho reached down with slippery fingers. Tycho slid two fingers inside Wedge, drawing a louder moan of pleasure.
"Yes. Please, Tycho, fuck me!"
Wedge was open and ready, his eyes dark with desire. Tycho grabbed his hips and pushed himself deep inside.
Wedge's body arched up against his as they lay face to face. Tycho grasped Wedge's wrists and pinned his arms down as he started thrusting hard. Wedge's mouth opened, begging attention, and Tycho filled it with his tongue. Hard and fast Tycho thrust into Wedge's body as Wedge gasped, his hips moving in response. Their bodies synchronized, hips slamming together, lips and tongues meeting then breaking apart. Tycho bent his head against Wedge's neck, his nostrils full of the scent of Wedge's skin and sweat. He bit into the skin, tasting Wedge with his tongue. Wedge cried out and climaxed, his slender body spasming under Tycho's weight. Moments later, Tycho was swept away in his own orgasm, thrusting, holding, biting.
* * * * *
They lay together afterwards, arms wrapped around one another to reassure and comfort. Tycho kissed Wedge tenderly and gazed at his face from a distance almost too close for him to focus properly. Wedge's muscles were relaxed and heavy, but there was something distant lingering in his soft eyes that concerned his lover. Tycho rubbed one hand up and down Wedge's spine.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked.
Wedge shook his head. "No."
There was a pause, then he let out a long sigh, and buried his face against Tycho's shoulder, his hair brushing against Tycho's skin. Tycho held him tightly, and wished there was more he could do. He and Wedge had been lovers for several years now, supporting one another through war and imprisonment and loss. In that time, Wedge had risen through the ranks from lieutenant to general, shouldering the burden of leading the New Republic's most elite fighter squadron. Now, especially since Distna, Tycho sometimes felt that the burden was getting too heavy for Wedge.
"It was that fight today," Wedge said, his voice muffled by Tycho's shoulder. "When my shields failed, and the X-TIE had me lined up, I thought I was dead. I thought I was going to die there, all alone in my X-wing, with nothing but vacuum around me. I don't want to die alone, and I will."
Tycho thought for a moment.
"Command keeps trying to get you into a fleet position," he said. "You wouldn't be alone on the bridge of a Star Destroyer."
Wedge raised his head and stared at Tycho with hungry eyes. "There's no guarantee that Rogue Squadron would be assigned to me; we could be separated. Being here with you, like this, is the most important thing in my life."
"I'm glad you think so," Tycho whispered, both honoured and humbled that a man like Wedge Antilles should need him so badly.
Wedge sighed again, and rested his cheek against Tycho's shoulder. "I should like to die here, like this. In your arms."
"That wouldn't be much fun for me," Tycho replied.
"But I'd feel happy, and safe, and loved. I'm not immortal, I'm gong to die some day, somehow; it's natural. We both will. If I could choose, I'd choose to die with you holding me and keeping me safe as I went."
Tycho thought about Wedge's words. It was true, of course, that one day both of them would die, even if they did nothing more dangerous than stay in their quarters, eat and make love. And as professional soldiers, they both knew how suddenly death could come, with no chance to say goodbyes. As pilots, death might come swiftly in the strike of a laser that killed before you knew you'd been hit. Or it could be the result of vacuum exposure, hypothermia or oxygen deprivation. Tycho hated to think of Wedge ejecting from his X-wing and dying by inches as his body froze in the absolute chill of space.
He tightened his grip on the warm body that nestled against his.
"You won't die out in space, Wedge. I won't let you. I love you."
"I love ..." Wedge's reply was cut off by Tycho's kiss.
* * * * *
Lovemaking the next morning was gentle and intimate. They spooned together, Wedge filling Tycho and rocking him with slow thrusts as his hand caressed Tycho's penis. Wedge closed his eyes and lost himself in dream and sensation. Tycho's fine hair tickled his nose; his lean, strong body pressed against Wedge's chest and belly; his hard penis filled Wedge's hand and his arse was tight and good around Wedge's cock. Their legs tangled together as breathing got faster and the leisurely pace gradually increased out of control. Then Tycho cried out, his penis jerking in Wedge's hand and his muscles tightening exquisitely around his Wedge's cock as he came. Wedge gasped as sensation swept him from head to toe, losing him, too, in the rapture of orgasm.
They lay joined for a minute, as they recovered, then Tycho eased himself from Wedge's body and rolled over to face him. Today was a day off, with no urgency to get up. Wedge lay still and gazed at Tycho's brilliant blue eyes.
"You're beautiful," he said softly.
Tycho slipped a hand behind Wedge's neck and pulled him close for a kiss. "You're wonderful."
He let go, caressing Wedge's hair, and smiled at him. Then the smile changed to a look of concern.
"Oh, Wedge. I didn't mean to hurt you." He gently touched a spot just above Wedge's collar bone.
Wedge felt the slightest sting of a bruise, and the sweet touch of Tycho's fingers on his skin. Although he twisted his head to look down, he couldn't quite see what Tycho was referring to.
"What is it?"
"I bit you last night. It's left a mark."
Wedge smiled reassuringly. "It doesn't matter; it didn't hurt," he said, remembering the sensation of being pinioned under Tycho's body and the blissful sting of the bite that had tipped him into orgasm. "It was good."
Tycho relaxed again. "What do you want to do today?"
"Lie here with you," Wedge answered.
He wrapped his arms around Tycho and lay with his head on his lover's chest, listening to the steady sound of Tycho's heart beating.
"I could stay like this forever," Wedge said softly.
* * * * *
Wedge could only lose himself in the security of Tycho's arms for a little while, however. The next day he was back on duty, and the afternoon included a meeting with Admiral Ackbar. The Admiral's office was humid, as always, mimicking the climate of his oceanic home world. Normally it never bothered Wedge, but today he found the atmosphere oppressive, dulling his mind.
After some talk about the political unrest that lingered after Grand Admiral Thrawn's recent campaign, Ackbar rolled one large amber eye in Wedge's direction.
"We need to send a task force out to patrol near Fondor. I had it in mind to put you in command."
"What size of task force?" Wedge asked.
"Two assault frigates, a carrier cruiser with four starfighter squadrons, and the Liberator as your flagship."
The Liberator was a captured Impstar deuce, one of the largest ships in the galaxy. It carried a crew of just over 37,000 beings, with up to 10,000 troops. That ship alone would make nearly 50,000 lives his direct responsibility. Wedge did a rapid mental calculation, and realized that altogether, some 58,000 individuals would be under his command. 58,000 lives would depend on his ability to make the right decision at the right moment. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Admiral. I'm not ready for this."
Ackbar turned his head and swivelled his other eye to stare at Wedge.
"You are an excellent commander, General Antilles. I am confident that your demonstrated ability with smaller vessels will transfer to command of capital ships." Wedge took a deep breath, drawing on his self-control to appear calm.
"I appreciate your faith in me, Admiral, and I'm honoured that you want me to lead this force. But please, not now. I'm not ... ready," he repeated.
Ackbar didn't respond at once, continuing to stare at Wedge with his glassy eyes.
"I suppose you would rather remain in command of Rogue Squadron?" he said eventually.
Wedge nodded. "Yes, sir."
"I can afford to indulge you a little longer, General. I can tell the Council that you should stay with Rogue Squadron for the sake of continuity, as the new members, transferred in after your fight with Isard and her clone, finish their training. But really, there is no reason why Colonel Celchu should not take command."
"I know that, sir," Wedge answered. "Tycho will be an excellent commander for Rogue Squadron. I'm just ... not quite ready to commit myself to a fleet position yet."
"Noted," Ackbar said. "Your reliability has been a great asset to the Rebellion, and the New Republic, General Antilles, and I shall continue to rely on your willingness to tackle new responsibilities."
Wedge nodded, grateful that Ackbar still missed the finer nuances of human expressions and body language.
"I have another mission in mind for Rogue Squadron," Ackbar said. "I'll have the details forwarded to you."
"Thank you, sir." Wedge saluted, and took his leave.
Disclaimer: All content is made up, and no profit or lucre is expected, solicited, advocated or paid. This is all just for fun. Any comments, please e-mail the author or WOOKIEEhut directly. Flames will be ignored. Characters and situations are based on those which are the property of LucasFilms Ltd., Bantam Publishing, Random House, and their respective original owners and developers. The rest is this story's author's own fault. This story may not be posted anywhere without the author's knowledge, consent, and permission. This web page is presented by Wookieehut.com.