Alan frustratingly thumped his fist against the desk's surface, deciding to switch off the computer monitor as the headache that had been plaguing him all day finally made it unbearable to look at the screen. The programmer removed his glasses and delicately rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure mounting behind his eyes.
He was tired, that much Alan was willing to admit, but depressed? That was a bit harder to confess. However, he couldn't escape the feeling that his whole world had come crashing down with the absence of Lora in his life. It wasn't Lora's fault that their relationship had fallen apart and she'd left him, almost regretfully closing the front door behind her, suitcases in hand; he remembered giving her that suitcase set their second Christmas together.
No, no. Alan had ruined the special bond they shared with just one glance at another man. Ok, maybe not just one look, maybe several. And it wasn't just a man, but his package. A package, Alan thought, so nice he couldn't help but to stare, mouth slightly agape. Lora had good-naturedly waited until after their Third Anniversary dinner to address the issue and berate him with questions, many of which he just couldn't answer. How could he explain to the one woman who had loved him more than anyone else that he was becoming increasingly interested in men? Would he be able to tell her about the numerous fantasies he'd had of men, while the two were having sex nonetheless, some of them even involving his best friend, Flynn? Thankfully, after the yelling and Q and A session, Lora had calmed, looking more sad than angry. The next morning she was gone.
Alan sighed and lolled his head back to rest on the back of his chair, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he realized just how alone he was in this. A few of his coworkers knew what had happened and given pats on the back with a "there, there. You'll be fine" and the ever so cliché "there are plenty of fish in the sea." Flynn had taken the sulking man out to the bar to drink away his sorrows. God, he drank so much that night he barely remembered what the two had talked about. Flynn kept babbling like an idiot about something he had created and how awesome it would be if Alan could see it (what had he called it, the Grid?). Well, whatever it was, he couldn't have cared less at the time and just wished the genius coder would shut up and let him curl into a ball and die. It's not like Flynn understood what he was going through. He had Jordan in his life and was happier than after he took down Dillinger.
A sharp knock on the door to his office caused Alan to snap to attention and wipe the salty droplets from his eyes. There was another impatient knock, followed by a voice.
"Hey, it's me," it said, as if the statement made it completely obvious who was hidden behind the wooden door. "Can I come in?"
Alan couldn't help but smirk at the muffled yet playful tone of Kevin Flynn asking for entrance.
"Come on in, Flynn. Just keep your voice down."
With the squeak of hinges, Flynn waltzed in. Alan wondered at how the man could look so professional, yet unprofessional at the same time. He wore a brown suit, yet his tie was hanging half loose and his hair was strewn every which way. He'd probably been at the arcade all night and woke up late, throwing on the suit and not bothering to fix his looks.
"How've you been, man?" he asked, flopping down in a chair and drumming fingers lightly on an arm rest. "I heard you were in here most of the day and even skipped lunch. You okay?"
"For the last time, I'm fine. It's you and the other guys that keep dwelling up emotions with your constant questioning. I even feel like I've gotten over it a bit." He may be lying, but there was no way in hell Flynn was going to learn he was on the verge of breaking down minutes before.
Flynn gave him and all-knowing smirk and nodded towards Alan.
"That's not what your face says."
Alan quirked an eyebrow in confusion, and with no further hints from Flynn, swiped his fingers across his cheek, noticing a wet streak that ran down to his chin. Dammit, he hadn't noticed a tear escape when he wiped away the others. Alan looked away from Flynn, disgraced that he'd shown weakness in front of his friend.
"Look, Alan. I know what you're going through is tough. You and Lora had something special and it fell away like sand in the wind. However, bud, it's been two weeks since she left. You've gotta move on. You two are still friends at least, right?"
"She hasn't returned any of my calls."
"Well, maybe she needs more time than you. By the way, man, why did she leave you? You guys seemed happy together."
Shit. Alan had completely forgotten that he never told anybody what occurred to end their relationship. The most anybody knew was that there was an argument. He needed a reason and fast!
"Uh, Lora said I wasn't living up to her expectations with my performance in the bedroom."
Did he seriously just say that? That was not something he ever imagined saying to his friend, especially not the one he imagined getting dominated by with his late night fantasies and vivid imagination.
Flynn gave him a perplexed look, but dismissed his statement easily enough.
"Give her some time for the pain to heal and maybe she'll eventually return your calls."
The way Flynn was talking to him was like they were two girls complaining about a boy. And did Flynn have to say he 'hurt' Lora? Way to make the grief swell.
"Anyways Bradley," Flynn started again, "you need to get away for a while. Relax and enjoy yourself."
"And where do you expect me to go? Costa Rica? Hawaii? I can't just up and leave all of my work."
Flynn smiled and stood, slamming his hands flat on Alan's desk and looming over the suddenly shocked man.
"Take me up on my offer."
"Offer? What offer?" Had the smart-ass hacker gone crazy? Alan didn't remember anything about an offer, unless…
"Man, you really were hammered that night! At the bar last weekend, I invited you to the Grid."
He was right; Flynn had called whatever it is the Grid.
"Flynn, what the hell is the Grid? It sounds like some kind of strip club. You should know I'm not ready for another relationship, let alone getting a lap dance."
Stepping back and straightening, Flynn gave a light-hearted chuckle.
"No, man. The Grid is…well, it's kind of hard to explain without sounding odd. It'd be better if I just showed you. Would you be able to swing by the arcade this evening?"
Alan knew he was getting dragged into one of Flynn's deranged plans, but he knew if he resisted, Flynn would keep nagging him until he gave in. Alan gave him an exasperated nod.
"Fine. I'll be at the arcade for 8pm, but I swear Flynn, if the Grid is some new video game you programmed that you want me to play, I'm gonna punch you square in the nose."
Flynn triumphantly punched the air and laughed.
"Awesome, man! See you then. I promise you're gonna love it!"
With that, Flynn was out of his office faster than Roy on popcorn. Alan knew if he had to spend the entire night with Flynn, he was going to need to rid himself of this persistent headache. Now, where was the damn aspirin?
------
Alan had to admit, he was highly intrigued about what the Grid actually was, Flynn's enthusiasm hours before fueling the flames of his curiosity. However, he'd be lying he didn't confess to feeling a bit of worry when Flynn practically dragged him down to his hidden basement office, only to see a Shiva laser situated towards the back of the room. Alan hadn't even the time to ask Flynn, who had immediately begun typing at his desktop computer, why there was a laser here or even where he had gotten it before the dirty blond man pulled him close and hit the ENTER button.
Time seemed to stop as the walls and surrounding décor pixilated, crumbled away before his vision was stolen and the world disappeared…only to reform mere milliseconds later as vision was granted once again and, wait. Why was his sight suddenly much better and where were his glasses? Also, why did everything have a monochrome sheen? It was like he was in a bad Sci-fi movie.
Alan jumped out of his thoughts when Flynn planted a hand on his shoulder and delivered a forceful shake.
"You okay, bud? You look a bit dazed."
"Kevin, where are we?" Alan asked, eyes flitting every which way absorbing his surroundings with apprehension and excitement, eyes wide like that of a child newly born into the world. He was pretty sure they were still in the arcade, but his overactive mind was still attempting to process what had just occurred. Alan looked downwards at himself, noticing immediately that, although he didn't feel any different than moments ago, his clothes had taken on a new appearance. The knee-length overcoat he wore was highlighted by white light lines trailing straight down his sides to the coat's hem. A thin line of white wrapped around each sleeve cuff, both ends being connected by a node. There were a few dashes of light accenting the coat's pockets, but overall it was a very simple design.
Kevin sighed but a contented smile graced his lips. He was fully aware Alan was going to have numerous questions and was happy to answer them all.
"We're in the Grid, man. We're inside the computer!"
"Inside the com-!" Alan was quickly cut off as Flynn spun him around by the shoulders with a whispered "crap!"
Flynn placed his palm flat against the center of Alan's back.
"I knew I forgot something."
The taller man began to feel a warm, if not electrical tingle begin where Flynn's hand was and spiral outwards before it settled between his shoulder blades. Stepping back to survey his work, Flynn gave an approving nod and let Alan turn to face him.
"I just gave you an Identity Disc. You're gonna need it here, so don't let anything happen to it, understand Bradley?"
"Uh, sure?" Alan was tired of having to question everything and decided to just let things happen without explanation.
"Great! Now let's get you out of here and into the city (plus I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees you)!"
Within seconds, Flynn had dragged Alan out of the arcade and into the brightly lit streets. Alan looked up, instantly floored by the surreal beauty of the streamlined buildings that seemed to claw out at the sky and shred through the ever moving clouds. He could stand there for hours, trying to memorize each angle and how the light of the street lamps reflected against the sleek surfaces. Unfortunately, Flynn had different plans, leading Alan towards what he assumed was the center of the city, mumbling some more info about the Grid and the program inhabitants walking by them, but most of it was lost on Alan as he continued to stare in awe at this new environment and all it had to offer.
When the two had reached one of the many skyscrapers of the cities center (though not nearly the tallest if the construction around them was anything to go on), they boarded an elevator to the top floor, being deposited in a large room occupied by several programs hard at work. Flynn scanned the room before smirking, eyes settling on a specific program standing before a wall of windows, his circuitry burning intensely in the windows reflection. He signaled to Alan to remain quiet and began tiptoeing towards the unsuspecting program with practiced ease. Stepping behind him, Flynn looked about to pounce when his target spun around with a knowing smile and folded his arms across his chest.
"Hello, Flynn. It's good to see you again."
Flynn, still in mid-crouch, just stared up at the looming figure before chuckling with a hint of disappointment present and straightening his posture.
"Damn, Clu. You're getting better at sensing me."
"For one, Flynn, I could see your reflection in the window. And two, being user and program we share a bond. I know when the portal opens and can sense your presence once you're on the Grid. Anyways, I'm glad you're back so soon. There have been some gridbug outbreaks in numerous sectors and data bottlenecks in others. I need your help."
"No problem. Speaking of gridbugs, where's Tron? Taking care of an outbreak I assume?"
Flynn waved Alan over, who had remained at the elevators entrance.
'Did he just say Tron? As in, my program? Nah, I 'm just hearing things.' Alan thought, joining the two men by the viewing window. Upon seeing the program up close, Alan's eyes widened in shock. The two were freakin' identical! Voice, features, height…the only difference was this program's hair was slicked back, not like Flynn's whose looked like he had just been through a mild wind storm.
'Oh, god!' he whined silently. 'A double dose of Flynn. No world needed that torture, be it the real world or that of the Grid.'
Breaking off from their conversation, Clu looked at Alan having just learned he was a user, and quickly glanced back to Flynn.
"So this is his user? They're identical."
Flynn nodded.
"Unfortunately, Alan here is your usual stick in the mud, workaholic."
"Flynn, what the hell are you-!"
Alan was cut short as the swish of elevator doors opening resounded around the room, accompanied by a sudden, strange electrical charge filling the air. It was oddly comforting, these flowing eddies of energy washing over him in waves. He could swear he had felt it before, it was that familiar, but he knew for sure this was the first time. It was obvious this feeling had come with whoever had just entered the room, and Alan turned to see the visitor.
"Well, if it isn't the warrior of the Grid," Flynn stated expectantly.
What stood before Alan was enough to shock him to the core. Well, to be honest, shock was an understatement. Even in the dim light of the room, Alan could see the newly arrived program wore his face, hair. Hell, they even shared the same expression, eyes almost painfully wide and mouth slightly agape. Alan looked him up and down, eyes tracing the lithe form, noticing how well the black, skintight suit hugged each curve and muscle. The two may have looked similar, but there was no way Alan was ever that fit. With a finishing gaze, he saw the glowing 'T' at the base of the program's neck and suddenly it made sense.
"Tron."
"Alan-one? Is it really you?" Tron asked, crossing the room with swift, silent steps.
"I guess you two don't need any introductions, am I right?" Flynn asked with a light-hearted laugh.
"My user," Tron whispered, kneeling before Alan. He retrieved his disc from its port and presented it to Alan, who could only look to Flynn for guidance on how to proceed.
Kevin stepped forward and lightly patted Tron on the shoulder.
"Now, now Tron. You don't need to be so formal around Alan. How many times have I told you that users and programs are equal?"
Tron replaced his disc with a sigh and stood, still facing Alan in awe.
"It's just that I finally get to meet Alan-one! I've been wanting this moment for so long."
Flynn looked between the pair (who refused to stop their little staring game) with a thoughtful "hmm" before grinning like a madman with an idea that neither could pass up.
"Alan, I wish I could've given you a tour of the city, but Clu needs my help here, so how's about Tron act as your tour guide?"
"I'd be honored!" Tron exclaimed, lashing out to grab Alan's hand. "What do you think, Alan-one?"
"Sounds good."
-----
If that one portion of the city he'd seen upon first coming here was beautiful, he was ecstatic to see the rest. Though, if anything, it was an excellent opportunity to get acquainted with the program he wrote nearly four years ago. Before today, he'd just thought his programs were things, nothing more than sequences of code. How was he supposed to know they could walk and talk, think like any sentient being? Alan kind of felt like a douche for his earlier train of thought.
In a rush of excitement, Tron had lead Alan down to the street level again, walking slightly in front of him in a protective manner. With unrivaled enthusiasm and a fury of finger pointing, Tron was explaining the significance of each structure and it's, albeit short, history even if it was merely an apartment building. From an engineering standpoint, some of the buildings looked structurally impossible to construct, but Alan assumed that in a world of zeros and ones, anything was possible.
With an examination of each building, it amazed Alan how someone as disorganized and carefree as Flynn could have constructed a world so organized and structured. As Tron had explained, a majority of the city wouldn't have existed without the assistance of Clu and his levelheadedness. It was somewhat reassuring knowing Clu's personality checked and balanced that of the creator.
After what felt like hours exploring the ground and underground levels of Tron City, the user and program came to rest on the outskirts of the city. Alan's gaze was still fixed on the skyscrapers and their unnatural beauty, while Tron snuck glances at his user, trying not to stare at the man.
"There's no more to the city, is there Tron?"
"That's not entirely true, Alan-one. There is one more place we have yet to visit."
Tron was glad to have piqued Alan's interest when he peeled his eyes away from the buildings and turned to the program, excitement visible in his eyes.
"There are energy pools scattered around just beyond the city's boundaries. Their unlimited supply of energy fuels the city and its inhabitants. We're close enough to one where we can walk to it, if you're willing to do so."
Alan's ear-to-ear smile was all the answer he needed and the two began a trek out to the pool, Alan tumbling over jagged and uneven rocks and Tron hacking away at a few stray gridbugs. Alan reveled at his program's agility, Tron jumping in front of Alan and knocking a bug to the ground before it attacked him and derezzing it instantly.
Alan couldn't help but blush as the familiar electrical charge he felt earlier coursed between him and Tron when his fingers gently brushed against the program's knuckles when he had held out a hand to help him stand, the circuits flashing pale violet and causing Tron to jerk his hand back in surprise. Alan pushed himself up, now watching Tron as he flexed his hand, staring intensely at the once-again blue circuits as if he had been burned. Realizing Alan's eyes were locked on him, Tron turned away shyly back towards their intended direction.
"Are…are you okay Alan-one? You're not hurt? I'm sorry I didn't react sooner."
"I'm fine, Tron. I've got a scratch on my palm, but it's just a flesh wound. Nothing deadly, see?" Alan asked, holding out his palm for the program to see, but Tron kept his gaze to the distance.
"That's good to hear. The energy pool is just a little ways from here. We shouldn't have any interruptions now."
Alan cocked his head to the side, wondering where the melancholy personality change had originated from. He couldn't have been dwelling on that small touch, could he? Maybe it was just too intimate a touch after only having just met his user after this many years. Crap, he'd have to apologize. The poor guy's probably traumatized.
After several minutes (or whatever they used here, Alan contemplated) the two arrived at the energy pool. Tron seated himself at the pool's edge, sitting cross legged and staring at the water with a fondness. Alan lowered to his knees beside the security program, looking at him with a bit of nervousness.
"Uh, Tron…I'm sorry about earlier. Y'know, the hand thing. I hope doing so wasn't against program culture or anything like that."
Tron redirected his gaze to Alan, a small smile gracing his lips.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. I wasn't expecting that action so that's why I reacted like that. Any program's circuits could be described as sensitive, but those on my hands are even more so."
Alan nodded in understanding and the two returned to staring at the rippling liquid below them, a comfortable silence settling between them. Tron gave a soft sigh, dropping his feet into the liquid energy with a shiver as each circuit on his body pulsed brighter. Alan looked to his right, examining Tron's reaction to the sudden action.
"Hmm, that feels good for programs?"
"Yes, just being near this stuff will give you an energy boost, but touching or ingesting it is far more effective. I believe Flynn likened it to a contact high."
Wishing to experience the same thing, Alan leaned forward to sink his arm into the liquid energy…only to completely fall in with a 'sploosh'. With feet just barely brushing the bottom of the small pool, Alan jerked up, his body convulsing with the intense energy influx entering his system. When he regained his composure, all he heard was Tron laughing, the program fallen to his side and doubled over in a fit of giggles. Alan's pout quickly became one of evil intent and he grabbed the program's leg, dragging him into the energy. Head popping above the surface, Tron just stared at Alan, a vaguely amused, confused look taking over his features.
He always knew Flynn was wrong about Alan-one's personality. Flynn had told him about his user's obsession with work, never taking time to enjoy himself or spend time with the people around him. Seeing this childish side to Alan-one made him swell with pride, proud that Alan was his user and his alone.
Tron grinned ear to ear, mirroring Alan's. Hell, there was nothing stopping him from acting immature once and a while. Flynn said even he needed to relax and who better to do so with than the one person he respected and admired more than any other. Outstretching and arm, he dipped it into the energy, forcing the substance up and at Alan, drenching him.
The ensuing splashing war soon evolved into more, the user and program tackling each other into the shallow depths of the liquid with an almost manic energy. There was no way these energy pools were made for this kind of activity, as feet and hands scraped roughly against the digital rock surrounding them. To the two men, this was nothing more than a game, a way to be near each other after such a long, physical absence in the other's life.
Neither one knew how it had happened or when, but all Alan knew was that sometime during their play Tron's lips had found his, kissing relentlessly, desperately. If Alan had half a mind to push Tron away, he might've done so; that is if Tron hadn't shoved him up against the rock ledge and, oh god Tron's tongue was pushing past kiss-bruised lips, exploring teeth, tongue, and cheeks. Alan kissed back, the kiss slowing and becoming nothing less than one of absolute affection.
He wouldn't have pulled away for the world. For the first time since his one night stand in college with his first guy, Alan was being loved the way he wanted it. No, not just how he wanted it, how he deserved to be loved. Tron was kissing him for who he was; not because he was a genius programmer or because he was best buds with Kevin Flynn (whom everyone wanted to befriend), or because he had managed to play it straight all these years, but because he was Alan, the fugly glasses wearing, way too formal for his own good, computer nerd.
Moments later, Tron reluctantly pulled away, his circuits still pulsing an excited fuchsia. His gazed dropped, watching as the rippling energy distorted Alan from the waist down. He knew Alan lacked a gridsuit and acknowledged how uncomfortable his clothes must have become. Reaching out with a nervous delicacy, he wrapped long fingers around Alan's waist, silently asking if he could continue. Without so much as a second thought, Alan nodded. He would've paid Tron to strip off his pants if he had to; the constricting fabric of his khakis on his straining erection was driving him mad.
Tron made quick work of the belt, throwing it over his shoulder to somewhere on the opposite rock edge, and undid his fly, pushing the drenched pants and boxers to Alan's ankles where they bunched. Alan whined, flailing a bit to rid himself of the article. His program giggled and stilled Alan with a hand on the chest.
"Easy, Alan-one. I don't want you hurting yourself."
He worked the pants off with some effort, smirking in between Alan's whispered cussing and disgruntled groans. Next came the trench coat and button-down shirt, which were discarded easily enough. Tron pushed himself away to survey Alan's body, but was caught at the wrist and reeled into Alan's arms.
"I believe it's your turn now, Tron."
Alan's low, graveled voice in his ear made his shiver with want and he leaned forward, nestling his face into the graceful curve where shoulder meets neck and gently suckled the flesh there as Alan's hands splayed over chest and lower back, derezzing black mesh into millions of glass-like pixels that sunk into the liquid like stones. Funny, he half-expected them to float.
Next thing Alan knew, Tron was thrusting up against him, grinding searing circuits into moist flesh. Alan tossed his head back, eyes clenching shut, focusing on the intense contrast of Tron's mural of blazing circuits sliding and rubbing against his sensitized skin, and listening acutely to Tron's soft whimpers that were muffled against Alan's shoulder.
Eyes snapped open as long, lighted fingers wrapped around Alan's cock, slowly pumping the hardened flesh and wringing a deep growl from deep within the man. The program's other hand began snaking across his user's abdomen, brushing the scattered circuit bands of his knuckles against perked nipples and over slightly defined abs. Just because he sat behind a desk, programming all day didn't mean he couldn't hit the gym.
Tron leant his head up, nipping and licking a trail up Alan's jaw line to his ear, sweeping the tip of his tongue along the shell of his ear.
"Is this okay, Alan?" Despite what he was doing, Tron's voice was still low and shy. If his user wasn't enjoying this, he'd immediately stop, no matter how much he personally wanted to continue.
Alan growled, hooking a finger under the program's chin and locking eyes with him.
"You have no fucking idea how good that feels."
Tron was rewarded with a quick peck on the lips before Alan leaned down to suckle at the 'T' at the base of neck, earning a strangled cry from his program. Deft fingers crawled and stroked over the drawing of circuitry on chest and stomach, violet flaring, blooming outwards from his fingertips and flooding the energy pool with brilliant light. The program's eyes were shut painfully tight, teeth clenched. He was so overcome with ecstasy he forgot about the cock in hand, arm falling away to his side. Alan would have more disappointed about the loss, but seeing someone enjoy his work was just as thrilling. Even Lora hadn't been this consumed with lust when they were making love.
Alan felt Tron's member press against his stomach and smirked against the 'T'.
"I guess you're enjoying this, huh?" He asked, adding emphasis with the stroke of a finger down the underside of the program's dick.
"A-Alan! Don't tease, j-just touch!"
"As you wish."
In one swift movement, Alan had ducked beneath the unsettled liquid and took Tron in his mouth, lips clasping around the head before taking the program fully. He felt Tron tense, is body going rigid before relaxing ever so slightly and grasping a handful of Alan's hair, deep brown tendrils floating carelessly around his crown.
Even beneath the energy's surface, Tron's breathy gasps were audible, wanton moans of user and more and curses Alan could only assume were grid-exclusive. His hips were rocking, trying to thrust deeper into the sweet heat that enveloped him, sucking him off into an abyss of pleasure that left him practically sobbing Alan's name.
Wet muscle swept over and across the organ, sliding from base to head and tracing a circuit on the underside with the tip of his tongue; the circuit itself was barely visible to the eye, but he could certainly taste it, electrified copper leeching over his taste buds and making him want more.
There was a hand ghosting a trail up the back of his leg, fingers following lighted pathways up a muscular thigh to that perfectly formed ass, those same digits rimming the outline of a cheek before grasping it in his palm and anchoring Tron where he stood, trembling with impending release. Alan squeezed the globe, quickly pulling away from Tron's length (much to his utter dismay) and pressing soft kisses along the side, head.
He didn't want to come just yet, not until he was fully seated in Alan, relishing the precious heat that only a user could provide. He refused to come, but damn if Alan didn't have him teetering on the near edge of bliss, circuits a steady purple, with his continuous ministrations and devilish digits. However, it was the user's last move, fingers slipping between his cheeks to rub against the pert entrance and tongue pressed to his slit, which had Tron growling with feral lust, dragging Alan up by his hair and slamming him against the digitized rock ledge.
Tron just stared at Alan in all of his soaked beauty; pale blue droplets of energy rolling down reddened cheeks, dripping from his chin and fluttering eyelashes, almost accenting sky blue irises. The program gingerly untangled his hand from his user's mane, the loose tendrils flopping down to rest messily on Alan's otherwise matted hair. Tron cupped his cheek, drawing in close to whisper against his parted lips. Alan knew what was next, intention clearer than glass in his creation's eyes.
"Do you want me to stop, Alan?" He knew Alan's response before he even finished speaking.
"Why the hell would I want to stop now?" There was an eager smile before the programmer crushed lips to Tron's, tongues tangling in a war for dominance. Alan suckled on the warrior's muscle, fully enjoying the muffled moans his program was emitting.
Then there was a finger pressing against his entrance, rubbing over the hole before pushing in slowly, trying to avoid hurting his user. He'd derezz himself on the spot if he caused any harm to the man he dedicated himself to pleasing. Alan was deliciously tight, squeezing and wrapping the glowing digit in a heat even more enticing than the user's mouth.
Alan squeaked as the finger was worked up to the hilt, breaking the kiss and tossing his head back with a hiss. It wasn't so much painful as extremely uncomfortable. Sure, he and Lora had engaged in anal play to spice things up in the bedroom, but nothing like this. Especially not since those searing circuits decorating the program's finger was brushing against his inner walls, shifting, thrusting, and stroking to get him to relax.
"Tron," he ground out, the name dying to a moan when a second, circuited finger gradually thrust in and upwards. They were thrusting, scissoring, and stroking muscle with such tender care that Alan felt like a virgin all over again, being loved by someone who understood what he wanted and how he deserved it.
In an instant, those fingers were gone, replaced with something far larger pressing into his ass.
"Are you ready, my user?" How could such a statement purred into his ear turn him on so much? He didn't think he could get any harder, but hell, Tron made it happen.
Alan nodded, wrapping lean legs around the program's waist and bracing himself with the ledge. Tron snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion. Alan squeaked, muscles stretching and straining to accommodate such foreign girth. The heels of his feet dug into Tron's lower back and he gripped the rock ledge so hard he cut the pad of a finger, a small droplet of blood rolling off the rock to fall and diffuse in the liquid.
After what felt like an eternity, his user began to relax, heels falling away to rest against the nodes on the program's hips. Tron ground his teeth at the sensation and, knowing his user was ready, pulled back until just the head remained and thrust back in with checked force.
He continued moving, always nearly pulling fully out before slamming back in, relishing Alan's cries and pants, suckling and nipping at the user's collarbone, leaving small bite marks to mark Alan as his. He knew his user was a working man and figured any unsightly markings would only distract him from programming.
Changing angle, a glass-shattering cry ripped itself from Alan's throat, his whole body going rigid and white bursting behind closed eyelids. Tron froze, fearing he critically injured Alan.
"A-Alan! Are you alright? What did I do?!"
"D-do that again." Alan's eyes cracked open, staring unfocused at Tron.
"Again? You sounded like I was killing you!"
"Don't worry. I-it felt amazing. Now fucking move!" To emphasize his point, Alan tightened his hold on the program's waist and pushed him forward, cock brushing against his prostate for a second time.
Tron hesitated for a moment, but gave in. If Alan felt good, then the least he could do was to give him what he asked for. He kept thrusting at that angle, pounding into Alan with now unrestricted strength. He reached out, grasping onto the ledge before him, twining fingers with Alan's in an attempt to maintain his thrusts. He knew he was close, could feel the power within him begging for output. Alan was nearing his end too, pre-cum steadily oozing from his tip only to be washed away by the stirred liquid. With his free hand, Tron reached down and grasped the man's throbbing erection, stroking it with fervent speed.
Everything was a blur now, bodies moving in sync, Alan and Tron managing to find a suitable rhythm, meeting each other's thrusts in time. The energy was thrashing all around them, waves splashing on and over the rock ledge, against the two heated bodies, both writhing in the throes of passion, cries and mumbled nonsense resounding in the air above them.
It took one particularly strong thrust for Alan to lose it, back arching and toes curling, releasing several spurts of cum into the space between them. Tron was still going at it, face buried into the junction of neck and shoulder. He was so close, so close he -oh user, Alan's hand was grazing over the node on his hip, circling and digging nails into it.
That was the last straw; Tron came, shooting thick globs of semen-like substance into Alan, his cry being swallowed by the user's lips on his.
"Alan," he whispered, pulling away from the kiss to rest his head against Alan's chest, fingers still lazily twined with the other man's. Alan brought a hand up to rest on the back of the program's head, playing with the soft ends of hair resting at the nape of his neck. Tron was still seated in Alan, refusing to pull away. He was as close to his user as he'd ever been and hey, it's not like Alan was complaining any.
"Wow, Tron. I-I just…you're amazing."
He needn't ask, but it was nagging him, despite how obvious the answer seemed.
"Alan, are you feeling better?"
Alan cracked an eye open, quirking an eyebrow.
"Better, what do you mean?" he asked softly, breath ghosting over fine hair.
"Flynn had told me you weren't feeling well. He said you were 'down' about something. I was just wondering if you're any better."
Flynn was sharing personal details with his program behind his back? Well, maybe he'd let it slide. It's not like he knew Tron was a real being until just a bit ago. At least he hadn't indulged Tron as to the reason he was 'down'. He wasn't going to disclose anything about Lora now. For right now, this moment was all about his bond with Tron; one hell of a bond. Alan let the thought of Lora dissolve into the deep recesses of his mind and only focused on Tron, his program, the one who loved him unconditionally.
"I've never felt so amazing. Thank you, Tron. My Tron." The last bit was barely a whisper, but Tron heard it all the same, as Alan nuzzled his face into Tron's hair, breathing deeply.
"Yes, my user."
Tron tucked his face into the curve of Alan's throat, moving to wrap arms around the man's midsection and hold him tight.
He acknowledged with mild despair that the two would have to leave soon if he were to meet with Flynn at the portal, but for now, he was content to stay right there, bodies pressed so close the two seemed to meld, user becoming program and vice versa.
Alan would return to the Grid, it was just going to be a matter of when. The wait would be more grueling than any arena game or gridbug assault. But he'd manage, for Alan's sake.












