Rating: NC-17 / Slash
Gillian F. Taylor
Wes Janson hitched his tray sideways to make room for Wedge to join them in the canteen. The other Rogues present, Hobbie, Tycho and Plourr, greeted their commander as he sat down. Wedge nodded, putting his datapad on the table next to his food.
"We were beginning to think you weren’t joining us," Tycho said, cutting a neat slice off his dessert with his spoon.
Wedge looked up. "I wanted to finish the current pilot assessments before I get started on selecting new squad members." He took a large mouthful of dubious-looking stew and chewed briskly.
Hobbie peered at Wedge’s lunch. "You chose the Bothan gumbo? I hope you’re paying more attention to your work than you are to your food. That stuff'll give you stomach cramps."
Wedge shook his head. "Haven't got time for stomach cramps." He turned his attention to his datapad, eating absent-mindedly as he studied the screen.
The other pilots looked at one another, then continued talking without trying to include Wedge. He was oblivious to them, his mind occupied by the work on his datapad. He certainly didn't notice Janson surreptitiously adding salt to his mug of caf. Plourr shot Janson a warning look, but stayed quiet and waited to see what would happen. Hobbie saw the look on Janson's face and braced himself for trouble.
Wedge had almost finished his gumbo before he reached for his mug. Still engrossed in his work, he took two mouthful before the taste registered. He reflexively spat caf back into the mug, sputtering. Janson burst out laughing, Plourr grinned; Hobbie and Tycho winced. Wedge turned on Janson.
"Kriff, Wes! Do you always have to be so stupid?" He shot the words out fiercely.
Janson recoiled from Wedge's outburst, holding his hands up in an apologetic gesture.
"Wedge! I'm sorry ..."
Wedge almost snapped something else, but caught himself. He glared at Wes for a few moments longer, then the anger died from his face. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.
"Sorry, Wes. I shouldn't have shouted like that. I've got a mass of datawork to do, and meetings with General Salm to prepare for. Flying into a Death Star is less stressful than all this."
Janson clapped him on the shoulder "You need to learn to switch off sometimes, Wedge. If you'd relaxed for lunch, instead of bringing work with you, I'd never have got the salt into your mug." He grinned smugly. "I did get your mind off your datapad though, admit it."
Wedge was forced to smile. "You did, Wes. Now do me another favour and get me a fresh mug of caf."
As Janson got up to fetch another drink, Tycho leaned across the table.
"He's got a point, Wedge. You need to take time out and relax a bit."
Wedge shut down his datapad and leaned back in his chair. He winced a little, and rolled his shoulders to ease stiffness. "I know. As soon as I've done the first read-through of the pilot candidates list, I'll send it over to you and you can check it out." He massaged his forehead with his fingers. "I swear I'm going to unplug my workstation this evening and do absolutely nothing. Relax, unwind, sleep. Fantasize about a galaxy with no annual status reviews."
Hobbie spoke up. "We may have freed the galaxy from the Emperor's grip, but I don't think even Rogue Squadron can free the galaxy from the evils of bureaucracy."
Wedge sighed. "You are so right."
* * * * *
That evening, Wedge did almost exactly as he'd promised. Tycho had left the cramped office they shared a little earlier than usual, with a reminder to Wedge not to stay late. Wedge had left only half an hour after the work day officially ended. The walk back to his own quarters felt good after the hours in a chair. Wedge rolled his stiff shoulders and made a mental note to book himself some time in the gym. This base had some excellent leisure facilities, most of which he only knew about through hearing others talking about them. Once in his own room, Wedge threw a spare towel over the workstation on his desk, hoping that out-of-sight would be out-of-mind. He stretched out on his bed, and realized that he had no idea what he was going to do with himself for the evening.
No doubt, he could find company in the bar, or the officer's mess, but Wedge wasn't really in the mood for crowds and noise. Perhaps he should go see if he could get a session in the gym? He knew he'd feel better for it, but just lying on his bed, doing nothing, seemed more tempting at this moment. Wedge closed his eyes. Peace and quiet, and an early night. He'd have get something to eat at some point though. Perhaps just lie around for a while, visit the gym when the novelty of doing nothing had worn off a little, eat and then early-ish bed. Watch a holo or read for a while? Wedge sighed contentedly. It was so good just to be dealing with such minor choices. Nothing that would affect anyone else's life. Nothing that would still be important in the morning.
His peaceful meditations were interrupted by the buzz of his door signal. Wedge groaned, briefly considered ignoring it, then heaved himself reluctantly to his feet. The visitor was Tycho.
"Good. I'm glad you're not still in your office," Tycho said. He leaned against the door frame. "Got any plans for this evening?"
Wedge looked at him suspiciously and shook his head.
"Better. I know what you need." Tycho straightened and moved back, expecting Wedge to follow him.
Wedge stayed where he was. "I don't want to go to the bar. I want peace and quiet."
"That's what I had in mind," Tycho answered. "Something relaxing and soothing."
Tycho seemed outwardly casual, but there was a brightness in his eyes, a sense of anticipation, he couldn't quite hide from someone who knew him as well as Wedge. He had something definite planned, and would be disappointed if Wedge refused to go along. Wedge found himself mildly curious to know what Tycho had set up. Making up his mind, he followed Tycho into the corridor.
A few minutes later, they were in the leisure complex. Tycho passed the gyms and other exercise rooms, heading into an area Wedge hadn't visited before. He looked around, more curious than before, and almost bumped into Tycho when he stopped outside a wooden door. Tycho glanced over his shoulder and grinned, sliding a keycard through the lock. He pushed the door open and led the way inside.
"Oh, wow!" Wedge exclaimed. "Luxury."
Slatted wooden benches ran along one wall, thick towels folded neatly at one end. The rest of the room was tiled in blue and green, with small lights embedded in the ceiling. In the centre of the room was a hot tub, easily big enough for four people, the water bubbling gently.
"Like I said," Tycho said with an air of triumph. "Something relaxing and soothing. Guaranteed privacy for a couple of hours."
Wedge headed for the bench and began pulling off his boots. "Thanks, Tycho. I really appreciate this."
Tycho sat down beside him. "Well, I arranged it for your benefit, but there's plenty of room for two in there."
"I guess Executive Officers need to relax too. Last one in's a nerf-herder."
A minute later, their clothes were abandoned on the bench, and both men were floating peacefully in the warm water. Wedge let himself drift, his mind and muscles relaxing.
"This Rebellion's getting civilized," Tycho remarked. "Remember what it was like on Hoth?"
"We felt lucky if there was enough hot water for a shower," Wedge replied. "Let alone a bath." He drifted against one of the jets of water. It massaged his shoulders until the force of the water pushed him back towards the centre of the tub. "Whoever invented water deserves an award," he remarked.
Tycho chuckled. "I'll tell Mon Mothma. I'm sure she can arrange something."
They floated quietly in the water, talking now and again. Wedge let his eyes close, and gradually found himself on the point of drifting to sleep. He wondered idly if he would continue to float if he fell asleep. No doubt he'd wake quickly enough if he did start to sink. It was pleasant to lie here, almost submerged, with the water lapping against his skin. He was completely unprepared when Tycho put both hands on his chest and pushed him under.
Wedge kicked and rolled, surfacing with a splutter. Tycho was standing chest-deep, laughing at him. Wedge swiped wet hair back out of his eyes and launched himself, knocking Tycho backwards. They went under together; Wedge pushed Tycho down and twisted away to come up for air. Tycho rolled and broke the surface three feet away.
"That's insubordination, Lieutenant Celchu," Wedge gasped, getting his feet on the bottom of the tub ready to attack again.
Tycho grinned at him, water dripping off the end of his nose. "So punish me, if you can."
Wedge launched himself through the water again. They wrestled, laughing and gasping for air as they fought to duck one another. It was blissful, irresponsible fun, especially as they were so evenly matched. Until Tycho cheated, and tickled Wedge. Wedge was very ticklish; he sank, thrashing helplessly, and swallowed a large mouthful of water. Panic set in for a moment. He flailed about, forgetting that the water was only chest-deep. Hands grabbed him under his arms and lifted him up. As Wedge's head cleared the water, one of his feet touched the bottom. The panic subsided as Tycho's supportive hold helped him get his balance and stand firmly. Wedge coughed and looked at Tycho indignantly.
"You know how ticklish I am. Were you trying to drown me?"
Tycho smiled. "Only so I could give you the kiss of life." He shifted his grip, putting one hand on the back of Wedge's neck, and pulled him in close for a kiss.
Wedge's eyes widened, then closed in pleasure at the warm, demanding touch. He opened his mouth in return, feeling Tycho's tongue brush against his own. Still breathless from being submerged, he had to break off.
"Did you have this planned out as well?" he asked.
"A good officer tries to plan for every eventuality," Tycho answered. "I thought that a good, hard fuck would take your mind off datawork for a while."
The kiss, their closeness and Tycho's words created a pleasant tingling in Wedge's body. He felt acutely aware of Tycho's hands on his back and his neck, the warm water that cocooned them, the nearness of Tycho's naked body.
"Remember what I said about insubordination?" Desire deepened his voice. "I think you need to be reminded just who's in charge here." He wrapped his arms around Tycho, pulling them together for another kiss.
Tycho relaxed back into the water, pulling Wedge with him so they floated together in a tangle of limbs. They kissed eagerly, legs bumping, hands paddling and roaming one another's bodies. Wedge rolled half on top of Tycho, wet skin against wet skin. His heart was racing, the tension rising in his body, anticipating the pleasures ahead. Tycho was all but submerged, his water-darkened hair floating around his face. He gasped as Wedge licked and nuzzled at his nipples, teasing gently with his teeth.
Wedge slid his hand round to Tycho's back, feeling the muscles ripple as Tycho trod water to keep them afloat. He moved his hand down Tycho's body, cupping and caressing the firm buttocks. The soft sounds of pleasure that Tycho made were good, stirring the fast-building lust. Wedge changed position, kissing Tycho hard, thrusting his tongue into the other man's mouth. Their heads submerged into the warm water, kissing until they were forced to come up for air.
Gently pushing Wedge backwards, Tycho manoeuvred so he was standing up in the water, between Wedge's legs and holding his hips as Wedge floated on his back. Wedge watched as Tycho lowered his head, watching the open mouth descend towards his stiff penis. He moaned aloud as Tycho's lips brushed against the end of his cock. Then he was in the warmth of Tycho's mouth, Tycho's tongue swirling around him and caressing him. The water caressed his body, supporting and yielding as his hips moved in response to Tycho's rhythm. Wedge gasped for breath, lost in the sensations that swept his body.
Tycho let Wedge's penis slip from his mouth and lifted his head.
"Is this the way you like me to serve you, Captain?"
Wedge growled and twisted in the water, getting his feet against the bottom of the tub.
"You're forgetting your place, Lieutenant. You serve under me."
He seized Tycho, turned him and shoved towards the side of the tub. As Tycho grabbed the lip of the tub, Wedge pushed up hard behind him. He locked one arm around Tycho's waist, and reached down to grasp his penis with the other hand. Tycho was standing in the path of one of the water jets. Fast-flowing water caressed the tip of his penis as Wedge pumped him hard. Tycho moaned with pleasure, his body trembling under the assault.
"You said I needed a good, hard fuck," Wedge hissed. "Well, you just volunteered to be that fuck-toy."
"Yes, Wedge. Fuck me," Tycho pleaded. His calm, aristocratic demeanour was gone as he pushed his arse against Wedge's hard penis and begged to be taken.
With one swift motion, Wedge thrust himself deep inside Tycho's arse. Tycho shuddered, his body bucking against Wedge's. The tightness and heat felt incredible to Wedge. He kept hold of Tycho's penis, letting the movement of his hips push Tycho back and forth through his hand. Water splashed between their bodies as Wedge's thrusts got faster. The water resisted his movements, making him work harder as he got closer to orgasm. Tycho was clutching the edge of the tub, head tilted back, wordlessly pleading as Wedge ravished his body. He came suddenly, crying out as he twisted and thrashed, almost losing his footing. Wedge hung onto him, holding Tycho upright as he pumped harder and deeper. His orgasm built up, taking over his body until it finally exploded through him.
The frantic movements slowed. Wedge was holding onto Tycho to support himself now, gasping heavily. As he recovered, he pulled himself free and let himself float limply on his back. Tycho joined him, floating companionably close.
"If you're not relaxed now, I'm a Hutt's dancing girl," he said.
Wedge grinned at the ceiling. "I think you'd look very fetching in a gold-trimmed bikini, with a chain round your neck."
"Well, if that's what you want for your lifeday present ..."
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