AsterControl.com - (News)
Summary
Ram lets Kevin Flynn drink from his disc.
There are.... some things Kevin Flynn doesn't know, about both discs and liquid energy.
Tron has to step in and help Ram out afterwards.
Author's Note:
My own foray into the small but delicious genre of "sex scene at the energy pool in the caverns during Tron and Ram and Flynn's escape in the 1982 movie."
I've seen so few of these that I can list all of them here as my inspirations:
Respite In A Spring (ani_coolgirl)
This one is... technically canon-compatible. Most of it fits into that one brief scene where the movie cut away from Tron and Ram and Flynn at the energy pool to show the tanks hunting them. It only showed a few seconds of tanks, but it doesn't prove there wasn't a weird program orgy going on at the spring during that.
*****
Scored
*****
"My friends. My fellow conscripts."
His mouth tingles around his smile-- from the buzz of the energy; from the touch of his own disc that he sipped it from.
"We have scored. I feel so much better."
He does. Oh, he feels so good, it's hard to think at all-- harder to remember if he's ever felt this good before.
It's been so many microcycles of neglect. Those tiny, claustrophobic pit-cells. Energy rations barely enough to stave off deresolution. Ceaseless battles that left nowhere near enough time to rest. Cell walls that closed off from each other most of the time, the transparent barrier taunting him with the sight of a cellmate he couldn't touch. Living for the hope of those rare times in between rearrangements-- when security was lax and the barriers turned off for part of the upcycle before curfew-- sometimes just long enough for him and Tron, or him and some other frightened and lonely conscript, to steal a short respite and take comfort in each other's bodies.
It was never enough, never anywhere near enough of anything Ram needed and wanted.
And now...
He laughs in utter joy, lifting the disc to his mouth again to drink. And delights in hearing the response from Tron. Oh, it is so good to hear Tron laugh, too-- a relief as good as any discharge of pent-up energy they've ever experienced together.
Tron's barely ever laughed, and never has it sounded so free, so joyous. Ram can easily count the times he's heard laughter of any sort from that so-serious program. A bitter rasp at the MCP's latest announcement. A chuckle at the ludicrousness of one situation or another, the sort of things you laugh at because otherwise you'll cry. Once in a while, a teasing laugh at Ram himself, and oh, Ram treasured those, because there was so seldom anything better to treasure...
Ram laps gently at the inner edge of his disc, savoring the taste of the free, pure power. Tron laughed at him for using his disc like that, too, back in the cells-- dipping it into the trough of weak energy that was their most common means of receiving rations. Other programs used their hands, or the cups or ladles provided-- none of them really good options, but still. To put your mouth on your disc in public was... indecent.
But Ram always returned that laugh with his own, counting it as a victory that Tron's affection for him had grown so strong. That he could treasure the laugh of Tron teasing him for being the irrepressible, over-sensual creature he was, instead of the sharp humorless reprimands that Tron gave others whom he didn't care for like this. Laughter was the sound of Tron accepting Ram's whole self, indecency and all, even if Tron could never put that sort of thing into words very well.
And no matter what Tron says, drinking from a disc is good. The glorious refreshment of liquid energy itself, wrapped in the sensual pleasure of touching that most intimate part of your own render, the part that ties everything else together. It's the perfect blend of sensory joys and Ram won't give it up.
You do have to be careful though. A light touch, a gentle sip. Too much and it can run away beyond being pleasantly sensual and become... uncontrollably lewd. There are times you want that, and times you don't...
Ram glances to the side. Poor Flynn. What is that program's malfunction, anyway? He started out staring at this energy pool like he had no idea what it even was... and now he's doing so badly at just the simple task of cupping his hands and bringing the liquid to his own mouth. More spilling out than he manages to drink. He needs help, clearly.
Ram's eyes flicker down, toward the disc in his hands. It'd make just as good a cup for Flynn. And Flynn's a bit of a mess, but surely he knows at least the basics of how to treat another program's disc. And they are basically warrior comrades now... and Ram is always, first and foremost, someone who helps people...
"Hey. Here you go."
Flynn accidentally splashes his own face as he looks up to see Ram offering his disc, the edge of it glowing wet.
"Uh." Flynn's mind stalls a bit as he tries to reply.
This water stuff... what did Tron call it, "the power?" "a pure source?" ...apparently some sort of energy fuel?... It's so strangely invigorating, just the right thing to ease his exhaustion, and he can't stop trying to drink more... but at the same time it's a distracting tingle all over the inside of his mouth and now spattered across his face. Not like any other substance he's ever handled. His latest handful makes his fingers twitch, trickling out between them as he stares up at Ram.
"Oh." He realizes, and reaches out.
It feels a bit weird, he's gotta say. Especially since a program's disc here seems to be many things, from weapon to memory backup, which adds another level to how personal it seems, the idea of sharing the thing with Ram like a communal drinking bowl.
But... He turns it over in his hands. But they've been through a lot together, haven't they? They've all got something like the bond of army buddies already, and Ram's the one suggesting it, and Flynn was having trouble scooping the stuff with his hands, and he's still not even sure this isn't all a dream anyway, so...
He nods to Ram in thanks, and turns back to the spring, dipping the disc in to fill it.
The next sip is much easier. Flynn sighs in relief as he finally manages to get down a deep swallow of that refreshing liquid at once, tipping his head way back and the disc far up. Oh, he can't believe how satisfying that was! There's a pulse of power to his circuits, hard to categorize as hot or cold or anything but just bright-- the flare of light all over him is a sensation in itself.
Oh, he needed that. The feel of being covered in this circuitry is still so weird, and his mind has been struggling to parse how it feels: the odd vulnerability of it, like the circuits are sensitive body parts even though they seem to be over his clothes (are these even clothes?) But there's also a constant stream of input from them, which... hardly makes any sense to his human mind. For a while now they've been giving him what feels like maybe a low-power warning, along with a sort of overall urge that isn't clear whether it wants him to eat or drink or sleep, and he's been frustrated trying to figure out what will satisfy it--
Until he got here. Until he tasted this.
Oh yes. This is exactly the charge he needs. This is perfect, so perfect it almost makes him a little crazy. He sucks at the edge of the disc to draw every drop of its contents into his mouth, probing in around the edge with his tongue for a second, before going for another scoop.
Ram's gone very, very still at his side.
Flynn feels a brief pang of self-conscious sympathy. Oh. Ram's waiting, isn't he? It's so much easier to drink this way, and now he's taken it from Ram and Ram's just waiting for it back...
But then the near-addictive drive to keep consuming this stuff merges together with that worry over Ram's comfort, and he just... speeds up. The sooner he can drink his fill, the sooner he can give the disc back to Ram, and everyone'll be happy. He scoops discful after discful into his mouth, swallowing almost fast enough to choke, lost in the glorious power of it that courses all the way through him, down every circuit and--
In the midst of a mad frenzy, licking all over the disc like it's an ice-cream bowl as he chases the drops left in the wake of his latest drink, he hears a sound from Ram. A very low, long, wavering sound--
He pauses, trying to place what that sound could be.
It's... it's not like a complaint from a guy who's impatient for his next drink. More like... oh, it's familiar, and it somehow makes a familiar answering feeling rise up in Flynn, a sensation that follows the drops of energy that he's swallowed and calls for more...
He plunges the disc back into the pool and brings it back to his face so greedily that the splashes even hit the circuits of his helmet. And this mouthful does feel like more, more power, more sensation, more relief but also more need, and--
A long, shaky moan breaks free from deep in his throat, and then-- then his whole body jolts as he hears a near-identical answering moan from Ram.
Flynn's eyes roll to the right and catch Ram stretched out on his back and... damn it, that program is just unfairly hot...
The thought appears abruptly, but not from nowhere.
As his throat drinks down the last of his final mouthful and his eyes drink in the shape of Ram's reclining figure, he realizes the thought's been there, just under the surface.
When it comes to the male side of bisexuality, Flynn has always fallen hard for the awkward nerds... including Alan, which is messing with him a thousand different ways every time he looks at Tron, but that's a whole different thing that he just does not have the bandwidth for at this moment. His eyes and mind are full just looking at Ram right now--
-- and there's a lot of that attractively awkward vulnerability about Ram too, his weird long angular face, his big expressive mouth, that overall gentleness and softness. But there's also a lean grace and power, an athleticism in that flexible build... and oh, Flynn is melting just as fast from that, too.
Especially the way Ram is posed-- a languid sprawl, one leg bent, spine arched--
...oh god. Oh fucking god, he's hard. The smooth white surface of Ram's render strains tight around the curve of his erection, not overly large for his body size but unmistakably there and unmistakably painfully hard, a bulge flanked by circuit lines that pulse violet on each side of it--
--and Flynn must be going insane, must still be having some incredibly perverted dream or hallucination-- who the fuck knows what a man-shaped computer program ought to have down there, but shouldn't it all just be code? Flynn shouldn't be seeing this, but if he is seeing this then it must just be a digital skin, the graphic interface of a videogame character, an echo of the basic outer shape of a body, there's no way, no reason there'd be an actual reproductive system--
--but whatever the hell there is, oh god, he can see Ram is feeling it.
The one leg stretched out as far as it'll go... the other drawn up, heel digging into the ground. Head tossed back, eyes tight shut, hands clenched at his sides with nails biting into palms, chest rising and falling in the motion of breath that's also got no reason to exist and yet it's echoing the rhythms of a real body so well, that unmistakable desperate edge between pain and pleasure--
Oh, Flynn wants to do things to that body. Wants Ram doing things to him-- oh god he wants both of them, Ram and Tron at once, all over him-- he--
And then it hits him, as that last mouthful of sweet energy tips his power levels past some threshold and-- he becomes suddenly, overwhelmingly aware just what this sensation is.
The disc slides out of his hands and skids across the databank's smooth surface, halfway back toward its owner, who reacts with a flinch and another gasping moan. But Flynn barely notices-- the power's building to a surge inside him, and he writhes on the ground, his own back arching, hands gliding and then raking hard over his own circuit lines-- which are so, so exquisitely sensitive, fuck fuck fuck-- every light flickering deeper and deeper blue, accelerating down the color spectrum toward purple.
"Oh god oh god oh--" His legs stretch as a low growl rips from his throat, every muscle clenching in a sudden unbearable surge of pleasure.
Oh god, he's never gotten this close this fast before-- fuck fuck fuck, he's about to come in his pants and he doesn't even know how to take them off-- do they even come off? Are they even pants? Does he even have a dick under there? Is his render just a graphic interface full of code? ...He's sure as hell got something, that bulge between his legs is suddenly absolutely blazing with sensitivity, and yet-- oh fuck oh yes--
He arches and trembles through another heavy wave of tingling pleasure and a hot burst of wet that definitely feels like pre-cum-- except instead of lingering and cooling, the sensation just dissipates, gone--
In the shock of it he's unprepared for the next wave of stimulation and the second wet rush of pre... spreading warm, tingling, vanishing just the same. Fuck, if that's what it feels like here, he could get used to this--
But oh, oh, he is not used to this. Not used to this pressure and heat, still building and building as he shudders and flickers all over, the edges of his render breaking up into pixelation, what the fuck even-- oh, it's definitely the buildup to an orgasm, feels the same, but-- but not the same, better, so so so much better--
...because it's not just there between his legs. It's shooting all through him, his whole skin. Jolting electrically up and down every circuit, fizzing in hot tickly static on every surface, arcing and sparking around the hypersensitive disc-dock where it connects to his upper spine, his entire body flashing with pleasure and... oh... he can't, he can't hold it back--
He explodes.
There's just no other description for it. The sensation down below that feels like wave after wave of hot ejaculation, it's pulsing in rhythm with a similar sensation that wracks his whole body, his whole circuit array, like jets of the same rhythmic heat are rushing through each lightline, like his whole self is breaking apart into droplets and spraying everywhere, a firework of sparks.
He's only just conscious enough to be aware his render is literally breaking up, his hand pixelating into a cloud of sparkling light before his eyes, and to feel a moment of giddy shock amid that thunderstorm of whole-body pleasure... before it all disintegrates into warm, blurred oblivion.
Ram's eyes are wide as he lies on his back, watching the shimmer-cloud of Flynn's overload gradually resolve back into the form of his body... a relaxed, sated body now, deeply unconscious in reboot cycle.
Ram can only moan. His own body is an arch of tension, shaking with desperate need all over. He... why? His eyes drift to the sight of his disc, discarded somewhere between him and Flynn, light-rings still glowing and pulsating in rhythm with his own lights. How could Flynn have-- how oblivious could he-- oh, Ram should not have assumed he knew how to handle that-- A hot and heavy tingle shudders down his whole body and he arches back farther, the material of the databank pressing hard against his spine and his hips, not quite cool enough to soothe his heat.
"I can't believe he did that to you!"
Tron is laughing at him, glitch it -- and in Ram's current state that teasing laugh is suddenly more torture than joy. Ram half-focuses reproachful eyes on Tron's grinning face and tries to scowl... but right now he can only respond to the sight and sound of Tron with hot desperation.
Tron's voice, even chuckling, is a purr of pleasure. "Can't believe it. His mouth all over your disc, getting you like that--" Eyes smolder as they sweep down Ram's achingly purple light lines. "And then he just drank himself into overload and left you pending. Ha! Oh, Ram, that's..." But Tron's circuits betray the urge underneath his fit of laughter, flashing pink in rhythm with the sound of it, and Ram can't stand it anymore.
"I'm glad you find this so very funny," he groans. "Gonna do anything about it? Or--"
"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe I should leave you to debug your own errors. Might have more fun just watching you finish what he started." Tron sits up, dipping both his legs into the pool, and Ram whimpers at the lavender color that climbs Tron's circuits from there. So much security-program self-control... ignoring the stimulation, his eyes still fixed on Ram, until they slide off to the side for just a moment. "Your disc's right there. Shouldn't take much, I'd guess. You'd look beautiful with your face in there, licking your own disc-lines, all desperate."
The thought sends a jet of fire through every circuit. Ram's own eyes flash over toward his disc for a picocycle, and he seriously thinks about it--
--but it isn't what he wants, what he needs. Tron knows that--
"Please," Ram growls, hips pushing forward, thighs wide. "I admit it, okay. I got myself into this, handing my disc to a stranger. My fault for trusting. But--"
"Your only fault." And now Tron's sliding into the energy spring, up to his waist, feet touching the bottom, circuits brightening and purpling as he makes his way slowly between the shores. "Only mistake you ever make, Ram. Too trusting, too kind. Always."
Ram moans and pushes himself up closer to a sitting position, on the edge of the bank, legs still drawn up and wide open, feet tensing at the very rim as they try not to slip into the pool. "Can't help it. Can't not help, I mean. Helping others with their needs. It's what I do."
"I know. And you enjoy it, too, don't you."
"Every time. But --"
"But that great feeling it gives you isn't always enough, is it. Sometimes you've got needs of your own-- needs that won't be satisfied with just anybody."
"Y-yes. Yes. S-sometimes, Tron... Sometimes it has to be you. There's no one else like you--"
"And don't you forget it. Little shareware."
"Repressed f-firewall," Ram groans. The surge is so, so close-- even as he sobs his frustration through those only-half-playful jabs at Tron-- oh, Ram can already feel and almost taste the pressure of it in his circuitry, the specific wild tang of this energy, this place. Heat, light, electric charge, all the forms of energy that an overload can release-- all of that is cresting faster and faster in him, ready to burst-- but on top of it all, charged on such an abundance of liquid energy, there's something else, a fluid rush in the feel of the oncoming climax.
He knows, without glancing down, that the ache between his legs is starting to glow with the heat of impending overload, and that the glow spreading this time has a sheen of glistening wetness to it. He knows the wave is about to flood through him feeling like the warm electrified splash of diving right into this spring. His cheeks blush fiery-hot and his eyes close tight, the lids and lashes twitching as he throws his head back in ecstasy.
"You gonna--" he gasps. "W-what are you waiting for? Fragging circuit-tease. You sure you don't just wanna deny yourself some more? Save it up for your User?"
"Maybe I should, just for that." Tron's voice lowers dangerously, and he pauses, halfway across-- just long enough that Ram starts to tremble with panic. "But I won't. We're at a pure source. Won't matter how much I release here. I could overload a hundred times and still leave all charged up, with plenty stored to power my transmission by the time I reach the I/O Tower. I can start thinking about self-control after we leave this place."
And in a few long strides Tron is suddenly right there, up against the bank almost between Ram's legs, and he leans in close. "I'm not going to do it a hundred times." He leans even closer, Ram can feel it in the timbre of his voice, the breath and warmth of him. "But you... You are going to need more than once."
"Nnhh... ahh... T-Tron..." Ram feels his own voice like a vibrating caress in his throat.
It's beginning before he even feels the hand grip possessively around his thigh-- before Tron's mouth dips to his neck and claims some of his most delicate circuits with an attack of tongue and teeth.
"...Tron!" His voice crests to a scream, faster than he could've predicted.
His hands clutch at Tron's back, not even being careful of the disc, devouring out-of-control moans as they both lick and bite voraciously at each other's necks and throats, he's arching all the way up off the databank til his hips barely touch it-- and he's coming, in violent wave after wave of sensation, while his legs wrap tight, hard, around Tron's waist, only to hang on tighter and tighter as the climax soars over its peak, his whole body seizing like mindless matter animated only by the sheer power of the current surging through it--
Lightning-flash, heat, crashing waves, energy--
"Ohhh."
He breathes again-- feels like he lost only a few picocycles that time. He's still wrapped around Tron, panting, pulsating all over, sparkling with aftershocks in the wake of that overload, but he hasn't rebooted.
Tron's hand cups the side of his face, caressing. There's a smile, a laugh, even. Ram glows in euphoria.
"Mm, look at you." The voice above him is a deep purr. "Just from that. You really were right on the edge, weren't you."
All he can do is tremble. He's still mostly just sensation, just warm perfect feelings--
"Oh no, you don't get to restart yet." Tron's hands both slide down to his hips, still stroking hard and possessive. "You're not going to leave me the way he left you." And then Tron's hips rock into him, and he feels it, hot demanding pressure in between his thighs and he--
That sensory jolt electrifies Ram all over again. Oh, yes, yes, oh, Users, he wasn't ready to reboot anyway-- hasn't had enough yet. Energy levels so high and pent-up that one touch from Tron sent him into that first overload-- high enough that he can't be even nearly tapped out now, not after just one time. He needs more, needs to--
"Yeah-- oh y-yeah, please--" His legs spasm and clench again, drawing Tron against him close and hard-- he growls, hands clawing into the circuits around Tron's disc, savoring every shiver and moan of response.
Rubbing, sliding frantically against each other, breaths quickening and rasping louder and louder til they echo from all corners of the cavern-- Ram knows from the sudden arrhythmic stutter of Tron's hips and the choking, half-stifled groan that the pleasure's starting to overwhelm him. It often seems like watching a battle, to see Tron reach his climax-- like the security-program inhibitions try to fight it, to hold him back from losing control, even for a moment.
But oh, oh, it's always so beautiful to Ram when the pleasure finally wins. He helps it along, hands sensually stroking the circuit-pattern of Tron's backside as he pulls those lush curves tight against him, making the lines burn purple and magenta until control washes away from Tron's face in that torrent of bliss. Ram is rocked hard in the surge as it slams through Tron and into him, energy-release escaping Tron's inner fight only to crash into Ram's own ready-to-burst energy levels and send all of it arcing in a shower of lightning bolts out toward the rocks and the pool around them.
Well-- Ram gasps for breath in the aftermath, dizzy and sparking-- well, not all of it.
Because he still won't shut down-- the buildup in him's insatiable-- maybe it's the power of this pure source, or something about what Flynn did to his disc, or maybe it's just the pent-up fallout of so many microcycles of neglecting prior needs, but he is not finished yet-- and even though he can see Tron's probably ready to reboot, Ram clings to him desperately with eyes begging him to hang on, stay with me--
--and Tron stays-- stays online, holds off shutdown just for Ram, his strength more than enough-- and Ram sighs in aching thankfulness as Tron holds him, gliding hands down Ram's circuit lines as his head, his mouth slips downward-- and Ram groans louder than ever and loses himself in sensation again.
For a while he knows only the crushing rhythm of pleasure, tossing him around in its currents like a plaything. He doesn't fall into the oblivion of rebooting, but senses are hazy and cognition is down to the simplest functions. It's all just warm and bright, hard and soft and touch and need and energy-bursts of vibrant relief, over and over.
"How--how many times is it going to take--" he manages at last, in one of the first moments of clarity in a while. Perhaps because they're partly in the energy-pool now-- well, Tron's fully in the pool, which must be how he's gotten his own circuits glowing lavender again, and Ram's legs are hanging into the pool as Tron floats between them and does the most exquisite things with his hands and mouth to the circuits of Ram's thighs and backside and every pixel in between.
But that question is the last coherent thing out of Ram's mouth before he's gasping, twitching through the overload, feeling his energy shiver deliciously out into the pool and into the rocks and the air and into Tron, but still, still not depleted-- he's lost count, he's nowhere near satisfied and he's not sure if he wants it to finish or go on forever--
Tron's smile is downright evil, meeting Ram's dazed eyes as he looks up, framed by his legs. "Just think of them as an annuity over the years."
"Hey!" Ram scowls, then shrieks in pleasure as Tron's mouth ducks down and does something he isn't at all prepared for. "Ah, ah, Tron, ahh-- but--ha, seriously, hey, that's my function, you don't even know what an annuity is! Or a year, for that matter."
Tron's voice is muffled. "Sometimes I'm not sure you do either. Sometimes I think you just parrot some words from documents that ended up in your libraries, along with the math that you actually understand."
"Wh-what's a parrot?" Ram's eyes roll skyward.
Tron chuckles against his thigh. "No idea. See how easy it can happen?"
And Ram tips his head back and laughs, mirth and arousal swirling into the strangest kind of joy... some part of him knowing this is one of those moments to treasure, if he can hang onto it long enough to store it in memory.
They're sitting up on one of the outcroppings when it finally begins to feel as if a reboot is within reach. Moving together slowly, languidly, loving caresses and sensual undulations that carry less urgency now.
Tron is on his knees, holding Ram on his lap-- Ram's facing away from him but tipping his head back in ecstasy as Tron cups his throat in one hand and his hip in the other, holding him down as he rocks himself up into the circuits of Ram's behind, making him squirm and stretch his legs in the sweet sensation of every thrust.
It takes a while to build, this time. The energy levels are there, enough for an overload, but not much more-- Ram can feel it. A warm, gentle swell and pressure, in both him and Tron-- they're going to carry each other over the edge, this time, and then they can rest, together-- Ram breathes his pleasure and relief as it starts to overtake them, a beautiful sparkling full-body tingle that he knows even Tron can barely fight against, as it rolls over and into them both.
But he still does what he can to help Tron through it-- reaching around behind, stroking Tron's sides to pull himself down hard against his lap one final time-- leaning back just so and lining up the sensitive patterns of his disc-dock to connect with the circled T of Tron's chest and spark electricity between them, until the gasping and panting of Tron's voice reaches a crescendo along with Ram's.
And Tron's voice almost breaks as he finally sobs out the name, harmonizing agony and pleasure.
"A...Alan-1."
Even as he begins to pixelate into energy-glow, eyes clenched shut and throat spasming around gasps, Ram still can't repress the warm rush, the affectionate smile that blossoms from that.
Calling upon the Users in vain, in moments of ecstasy beyond control-- it's something Tron rarely slips up and does, and he certainly reprimands Ram for it-- Ram's biting back the urge to swear by RKleinberg_7 even now, with every shuddering breath, for Tron's sake-- but even the pious Tron isn't immune to that vice, and Ram catches himself biting back giddy laughter at the same time.
Then again-- the laugh catches in his throat-- then again, maybe it's not quite that.
Tron's voice... the pain in that crack of longing... it might be more like those moments when Yori's name finds its way into those groans of release.
Which is another sort of slip-up that Ram can't really fault him for. Tron belonged to Yori... and, for that matter, to Alan-1... long before he and Ram were whatever they now are.
Which Ram has never begrudged him.
Only wished, hoped-- yearned-- that someday he'll belong there too.
It's natural, to pair up into software suites of three or four or more. Lovers and counterparts and friends all sharing in pleasure, the connections interflowing harmoniously with the central connection to one's User. And yes, they're all different kinds of love, User and friend and counterpart... but in terms of the sorts of pleasure you can find with them, it's not all that different at the core of it.
And not uncommon for a program feeling that pleasure to cry out names almost interchangeably... because, at the core of it, a paired suite almost does share one soul.
Not that Ram's soul could ever be interchangeable with the soul of Tron's User, of course. But the most compatibly-paired programs can strive together in the name of their Users' will, almost as if they were all one with it. And Ram can believe he and Tron have that kind of connection, at least sometimes. At least in moments like this.
Because when he sees that longing in Tron, that desperation to reach the Tower, his User, his purpose-- Ram will do anything, absolutely anything at all, to help get Tron there.
And, as the energy rush of overload rolls fully through Tron and into Ram, burning them both away into sparkling glow, Ram sighs and arches and pours all of that thought into Tron's mind-- his last thought before sensory oblivion, a promise forged from every line of his code and every voxel of his render, his whole self, leaving nothing behind.
They rerezz slowly, the soft feelings of afterglow taking time to resolve into thought again. Their forms materialize face to face, lying close in each other's arms.
And Tron is quiet, even when Ram can sense the presence of thoughts forming, thick and fast, behind his shell.
He stays quiet, too quiet, too long...
Finally Ram nuzzles him, reaching to find his hand and intertwine fingers. "You okay?"
Tron's eyes don't even flicker; his answer's a monotone. "Just processing alerts."
Translation: worrying, so bad he's having trouble coping with it.
"I know there's still a lot ahead of us," Ram begins, softly.
"A lot," Tron agrees. "Risks. Dangers. Things that could happen to you... me... us. I don't..." and his voice cracks a little, fails at maintaining the monotone. "I don't want to lose you. To lose each other. You... you know how I... what you mean to me, how I feel--"
Oh yeah. Ram knows. Knows how Tron struggles, just to say that much. The feeling is complex. And when it comes to putting things into words, Tron isn't a complex sort of program.
"I know." Ram squeezes his hand-- prepared, mostly, for how hard Tron squeezes back. "Oh, Tron, I do know. And you know I... I love you too." It rushes out of his mouth, as if the words are scared they'll be held back if he hesitates. "Lots. More than..." and then his own voice breaks. "Well, more than I'll ever be much good at putting into words, either. But it's... it's okay, Tron. It's enough. Whatever we have with each other, it's... I mean, it's got to be enough, right? 'Cause it's already-- so much more than I ever thought I could have."
And it's true, it is. Calculations, predictions, they've all failed him when planning out his own future. He never could have dreamt of this, of Tron, of what they could be together. It's exceeded anything he ever estimated.
And it makes him call himself greedy, ungrateful-- how much it still doesn't feel like enough. How badly he wants it to keep on going. Beyond any reasonable estimate of probability. Forever.
The hand that's holding Tron's keeps holding on tight. The other one moves to cup Tron's cheek, turning his face gently until their eyes meet, til a pulse of longing reverberates between.
Ram flinches; it nearly hurts. The softness of that face, the brightness of Tron's eyes, the tremble of his lips that draws and holds Ram's gaze for too long-- like there's something else he'd really, really like to do to Tron, some way he wants to touch him that he hasn't gotten to yet. Even though he's sure they've touched each other in every way possible, all the way down to the most intimate data-transfer of thoughts and memories.
Yes. It does hurt. It's not enough. What he's gotten to do, what he's gotten to have... it hasn't been enough. He wants more-- much more than he's likely to get, with the grim odds of all the dangers ahead. It isn't fair.
He forces a smile, and the only words he can think of-- even though they're just Tron's words from earlier, repeated back.
"Hey. We've made it this far."
Flynn takes longer to reboot.
He comes back to life more disoriented than ever-- like after taking a midday nap, the unrealness of this world feeling even more unreal.
This has still got to be a dream.
Fuck. THAT kind of dream.
He's still weirdly on edge, though there's a sluggish relaxation in his limbs, like after an intense climax. Which is absolutely what that was-- no question. Better than any he's ever had before. Even if he still feels completely clean and dry, like all the cum and sweat must have just evaporated into that magical energy glow (what does that even mean in terms of his real-life body, anyway, if he is still asleep? What the fuck. He'll think about that later. If he has to.)
He crawls back to the shore, shaky. Ram's there, on his stomach-- calmer than he seemed in Flynn's last recollection of him, just quietly dipping his disc in the pool again.
Flynn tries to make sense of the hazy memory of what happened before that sudden orgasm... but gives up, shaking his head.
Flynn watches Ram drink-- Ram's sipping cautiously from his disc, almost like it's somehow ...tender, or sore... which doesn't even make sense, does it? But he just gives Flynn an amiable smile when their eyes meet, as if everything's normal, more or less.
These programs aren't exactly like people, and Flynn's still not sure how to read them (and if they're projections inside his dreaming head, that makes either more sense or less, he's not sure which.) But whatever's happening, at least Ram doesn't seem skeeved out by how Flynn just went into spasms and came hard enough to pass out, in the middle of what just seems to be a program-style lunchtime.
So either Ram didn't understand what happened... or it's within the realm of stuff that regularly happens here... or else dream-logic still prevails, and Ram's just acting however Flynn wants him to.
Flynn shakes his head. At this point, he's... well, he's just gonna go with it and see what happens next. What else can he do?
He's feeling ...something, again, like what he felt just before they got here. Something between tired and hungry and thirsty all in one sensation, which he guesses kind of makes sense, considering how the liquid energy seems to have satisfied it that first time around.
Maybe drinking too much made it... overflow, ran his power levels down again somehow? He carefully dips a hand into the liquid, bringing a small amount back to his mouth. Ohh yeah, it feels like he needs that. Just as good now-- just as restoring and refreshing.
Better, more vivid, than tastes or sensations ever usually are for him in dreams... okay, that is something to consider.
He sips slowly, trying to hold himself back from doing whatever he did before. But Ram notices, again, the clumsiness of Flynn feeding himself the energy-water with his hands, and...
Their eyes meet as Ram, once more, passes him the disc.
It's a knowing, anticipating look.
Flynn gulps, his current mouthful almost going down wrong... but he takes the offer, nodding and murmuring a choked "thank you."
The disc feels warm, heavy, almost alive in his fingers. Ram's smile is like something from fairyland, an otherworldly mischief. Like no matter how tired he may be, or how apprehensive about the future, there's always gonna be room in him for a little bit more fun.
But Flynn still handles the disc with more care this time. Dipping it slowly, sipping gently, watching Ram for any response...
Suddenly, Tron sits up-- the motion fast and sharp in Flynn's peripheral vision, drawing his eyes onto the compelling energy of that face and figure so much like Alan's, so intense, so serious.
"I feel it." Tron's voice carries conviction.
"Feel what?"
"You okay?"
"Alan-1." Tron's circuits brighten all over, a blaze of ice-blue. "Let's move out!"
Just before Tron leaps up and runs off, Flynn could swear he gives Ram a... look. A look that, if it reminds Flynn of anything...
...well. There were some times, back when he and Lora were dating, when he maybe got a little too raunchy in public... or a little too insatiable in private... and Lora would just glare at him, tired affection and fearless command fused into one single perfect expression like...
Well. Like that.
And Ram... Ram returns that look with the same half-quiescent, half-challenging, and all-playful eyes that Flynn's pretty sure he used to give Lora, back then. Watches Tron's retreating backside for a second... then grabs his disc and scoops up a few more quick mouthfuls, circuits pulsing bright.
Flynn follows his lead, drinking as much as he can without the help of the disc-- eventually just sticking his face down into the pool. He feels his energy rising, tiredness receding.
Knowing now, though, that they've got to get up soon and follow Tron. He's not going to have any more fun. That's over, and... and now he just has to build up enough strength to carry on with their mission.
Ram accepts it first, though.
Flynn, still slurping at the pool's surface, sees Ram finally get to his feet, shaking droplets from the edge of his disc, muttering, "C'mon, Flynn, put a cork in it."
Flynn wonders for a second if Ram even knows what the hell a cork is... but it's the tone of his voice that ends up drawing more of Flynn's focus. There's an irritation there, almost a bitterness, like one final joy cut off too soon.
And Flynn, with a sharp sort of finality, gets the sense that... well, that all three of them know this is the moment something good just ended.
A sort of defiance rises up in him, glaring down at the spring he's got to leave now.
"One second!"
In one last act of rebellious pleasure, he throws all caution to the winds, damn the fear of choking or short-circuiting himself or whatever else that stuff could do to him-- opens his mouth and swells his chest and takes a deep drink, as deep and fast a drink as he possibly can.
And it rushes through him-- a hot shivery throb of sensation, all the way down his circuits, flashing and flaring along his sides and his thighs, to burst finally in a glorious blaze of pleasure right between his legs, at the same moment he manages to haul himself to his feet.
It hits him before he totally even realizes what it is-- when he's in the middle of leaping across the data outcropping-- and it tears a loud, throat-deep cry from him, as he lands barely on his feet, trembling, unsteady.
"A-Aaaahhh!!"
Whatever he has down there between his thighs, in the code of shapes that form his digital body and echo the world above-- whatever it is, his legs keep shaking while it shudders along his whole length in a quick series of overstimulated pulses, the sort of near-painful orgasm he's wrung from himself a few times before, the last of the day, after going as many times as he thought was possible.
But it's-- oh, his spine quivers with the tingling aftershocks-- it's still so, so good, an echoey throb that reverberates for a long while after it should be over, his circuits picking up and carrying and amplifying every lingering sensory trace of it until it fades completely, until they've got not even a hint of it left to work with.
And then, finally... standing there all shaky on the edge of the databank, catching his breath and watching his friends run on ahead of him... Flynn manages one moment of total relaxation.
Peace. An almost zen thing. A mind that's cleared, a body that's reset... finally, finally completely calm, ready for whatever comes next.
END OF LINE
Note:
Ending doesn't have to be as sad as it seems. Can be read in the continuity of the rest of my Ram/Tron stories, in which the thing that happened to Ram in the Recognizer after this was... not what it seemed to be.
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