Eta #27: precarious (Wild Dogs by Lob)
Title: Wild Dogs
Author: Lob
Fandom: Starfighter
Pairing: Cain x Abel
Theme: eta #27: precarious
Rating: Adults because the fandom is an explicit adult webcomic.
Warning: language, sexual harassment.
Summary: Abel is summoned by Commander Bering. Part 3/30
Disclaimer: Starfighter belongs to Hamletmachine. I put some half-baked OCs in this post
Previous
When an unexpected silence took hold of the busy mess hall, Abel looked up from his tablet computer to find two fighters standing next to his table, staring at him. He did not recognize them, but considering he had only seen the fighters of Red Team in a passing blur as he and Cain rushed to board the Reliant, that was nothing to be alarmed about. The two men were not a security task force either. Abel noted that with some relief as he pressed his palm against the tablet. The computer beeped softly before powering down.
The taller fighter of the pair had a scar on his right cheek and his head was shaved. As if his appearance was not intimidating enough, the fighter moved up right next to Abel and spoke in a deep voice that carried easily through the quiet mess hall. "Commander Bering orders you, the Reliant's navigator, to report to his office immediately."
Abel tipped up his chin. “Acknowledged. Tell the commander I'm on my way." Abel glanced at his breakfast plate. Only a bit of jelly smeared toast was left and he popped it into his mouth before picking up his coffee cup. It was not like he had anything important to do today. There was a damage control inservice at 1400 and more simulator practice in the late afternoon.
As Abel drank his coffee, he glanced over the rim of his cup and realized no one at his table was talking because the fighters were still there. Yes, the messenger had said immediately and Abel knew Commander Bering was a busy man, but Abel had been in the Alliance long enough to know about the hurry up and wait routine. He could rush right over to the commander's office only to stand around for an hour or more until Bering had time to see him. In fact, Bering's secretary could have paged him directly since the main computer would have a record of him using a tablet.
He set down his cup and sighed. Looked like he was back to being the newbie everyone doubted could follow a simple order."Later," he said to the other navigators seated with him as he pushed away from the table in a leisurely manner. They all wished him well, although some of them looked nervous. For a second Abel wished they would simply tell him what was bothering them. Had something like this happened with he other Reliant navigators? He was tempted to just blurt out the question, but if the info was classified then this was not the time or place to ask about such things.
When Abel was halfway out of his chair, the tall fighter grabbed his arm and tugged hard enough for Abel's feet to leave the floor. "Damn!" Abel shouted. All around the room, tableware and plates clattered as the other navigators from Red Team jumped to their feet. "What the hell is your problem?" The two fighters moved a little closer to Abel, but they did not appear to be concerned by Abel's displeasure or the crowd's response.
"We will escort you to Commander Bering's office."
Abel glanced at the fighter's large hand encircling his upper arm. The man stood almost thirty centimeters taller than him and his wide shoulders now blocked most of his view of the mess hall.
"I know --" Abel lowered his voice when he realized it was sounding a bit squeaky. "I know the way to the Commander's office." He hoped to sound less flustered than he was, but this guy was pushing buttons that did not need to be mashed on right now. Being so casually pulled up was making him feel like a little child again being disciplined by his father.
"Commander Bering is at his secondary office within the fighter base level." The fighter released his arm before gesturing to an exit behind Abel. Abel was quick to put some distance between them before he noticed all of Red Team, standing and watching him, as if waiting for a sign to rescue him. His face and ears grew warm. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern; it just wasn't necessary.
"So what's the hurry?" Abel said while smoothing out his uniform sleeve. "Do you girls need to get your hair done before the big dance tonight?" There was scattered laughter about the mess hall as the tension seemed to ease. It made him feel better because he did not want anyone getting hurt or reprimanded on his account. Truth be told, he put the odds in the fighters' favor even though the two were outnumbered.
"Hey, Abel! Abel, look over here." Abel turned to look at a navigator who was standing at another table. He was holding up a tablet. "I've got their pics and the time they came to get you. I sent it all to Commander Cook's secretary and he said this is legit."
"Thanks." That was certainly better help than starting a riot.
Waving to the other navigators in the mess hall as if he were in some bizarre parade, Abel strolled towards the exit with the tall fighter now leading the way and the other falling in very close behind. Before his escort could push him out the doorway, Abel stopped to slide his borrowed tablet into the dropbox provided so it could be returned to supply. The fighter behind him crowded up into his personal space as Abel deliberately took his time with the whole process. As the seconds ticked by, the buzz of mess hall conversations grew louder.
Abel was raising his hand to swipe it over the scanner embedded in the dropbox when the fighter's blunt fingers skimmed across his ribs to find several ticklish spots that made Abel squirm. "Stop that," Abel said as he looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “What are you -- six years old?" The other fighter raised a thick eyebrow a few millimeters before jabbing Abel in the side. Abel's breath hitched when his body wanted him to laugh and cry Ouch! at the same time. Damn fighters never played fair. A small light on the dropbox glowed green to show the tablet had been properly deposited.
Unable to stall any longer, Abel left the mess hall with his escorts. He had already made enough commotion for one day so he departed Central Command without complaining. Even though the tall fighter set a quick pace, Abel did not ask him to slow down nor did he try to match the long strides. He knew jogging was the only way he could possibly keep up. Instead he kept the man in sight as they made their way down the long corridors.
What a relief it was when they finally stepped into an elevator. Since they were the only ones in the elevator, he threw out a couple questions although he was not expecting any answers from these two gorillas. "Have you seen Cain?" Silence. "Will he be there also?" No reply. Abel had now confirmed that fighters were all a bunch of tight lipped bastards. The loyalty of brothers in battle seemed to give them a united front unlike the navigators who were known to gossip and snipe when bored.
Less than 24 hours ago, he would have listed Cain as an exception to that idea of loyalty. At first he had considered Cain a cold blooded bastard for wanting to abandon the Tiberius. But after mulling it over, he realized that Cain had very little reason to trust Abel's flight skills prior to the starbase attack. Cain knew better now. Assisting another member of Red team, or any team for that matter, was not some 'stunt' either. Abel refused to leave anyone behind if he had the means to help.
Upon exiting the elevator, Abel followed the lead fighter down a narrow hallway where they were met by two more fighters. The sentries, their faces partially shadowed by their helmets, looked at Abel closely before one of them spoke to the tall fighter up front. "This had better not be another jackass prank, Othello. Commander Bering wasn't in a forgiving mood the last time some idiots dragged a navigator down into the base then ditched him." Abel felt his mouth go dry. Perhaps that was what had been bothering some of the other navigators.
"It's no damn prank. Bering threatened to dock my and Heathcliffe's pay if we don't get this scrawny navigator to his office within thirty minutes. Now open the fucking door already."
"I'm sorry, guys. If I'd known there really was --" Abel started to say.
"Shut up, Nugget." Othello snapped his fingers at the sentry before gesturing at the door.
"No need to bite my head off, man. Just doing my duty," the sentry mumbled before stepping aside.
Once inside the fighter base level, Abel kept glancing about with some serious concern. He could not imagine being down here all alone where his white uniform made him stand out like a glowing target, yet he had to grin a little when he pictured Porthos' obnoxious pal as the one who got pranked by the fighters. Maybe that's why he had such a low opinion of them. None the less, the damn place was unnerving him with the constant feeling of being watched from the shadow filled hallways that branched off from the main corridor. He even broke into a jog, although he had not wanted to, when a fighter walking down the opposite side of the corridor stopped to stare at Abel like a hungry wolf sizing up a rabbit. Abel was suddenly very thankful for his escort.
Time passed like the twisted flow of a bad dream until they finally reached their destination. An assistant checked Abel’s ID before announcing his arrival over the office intercom, but Abel was not led in to see Commander Bering. He and the two fighters were now standing before an empty desk when the secretary left without saying a word about how long the wait would be.
And they waited and waited, just as Abel had predicted. "Rushed down here and all for what?" Abel shook his head. "Don't you guys have other things do? I'm not a damn flight risk. And I'm not about to wander hell's hallways on my own."
Heathcliffe chuckled. "You'll need us for the walk back," he said, grinning as he leaned his hip against the desk while facing Abel
"Bering can always assign someone else." Abel shrugged his shoulders, but could not help smiling back at Heathcliffe. Because Heathcliffe had been behind him for the march down here, Abel did not get a chance to really study him. The guy didn't look half bad when he smiled. He found the man's thick eyebrows, high forehead and tousled hair kind of attractive in an offbeat way. Even Heathcliffe's blue eyes reminded Abel of an ocean he had not seen in a long time. All at once Abel's thoughts strayed to what Heathcliffe might be concealing under that armor. He had to be in good shape with all the physical training fighters did. Nothing wrong with imagining he told himself as he forced his eyes to look back at the office door. It wasn't like he was desperate, only more aware of the possibilities around him since his night with Cain.
The fighter leaned down towards Abel. "I like you. You remind me of a cat I used to own. He was always hissing and putting on a show." Alarms went off in Abel's mind. Did this guy seriously think Abel wanted to flirt with him? Heathcliffe continued speaking as Abel leaned back slightly. "I'll ask Cain to let me spend half an hour with you tonight." Oh no, as Abel feared, it was worse than that.
Abel frowned at Heathcliffe while considering if this was all part of the teasing or if they had crossed over some unmarked boundary of Hell. "I know you guys like to torment the navigators, but Cain ..." He took a slow step backwards only to have his ass slapped by Othello with enough force to send him flying forward again. Quick reflexes allowed Abel to catch his balance before he collided with Heathcliffe, although he had to slap his hands against the fighter's armored chest just to keep some distance between them.
"Cain isn't my damn pimp." He eyed the office door and wondered if he should just walk in uninvited. Heathcliffe would not be foolish enough to assault him here, yet the trip back was another story.
"Oh, he wants it, Cliff," Othello said as he punched the other man's shoulder. "He's more upset about Cain calling the shots than he is about you fucking him."
Heathcliffe touched Abel's left cheek close to the corner of his mouth. "Everyone knows what that scar means, Kitty-boy. I don't mind owing Cain a favor if I get to tap that cute little ass of yours. I'm still hard from watching you shake it all the way to the office."
"Not interested." Abel took a step to the side, but Heathcliffe followed right along with him.
"Liar, liar, liar," Heathcliffe stretched his whispered words out in a sing-song fashion. "I caught your eyes undressing me a moment ago. They were on me for a little too long. Yep, tonight you're going to ride my big cock until your --" As the door to the inner office opened, both fighters snapped to attention, their heels clicking together loudly.
When the assistant gave the signal to proceed into the office, Abel dashed in, hoping there would be no reason for Othello or Heathcliffe to follow him.
Next
Author: Lob
Fandom: Starfighter
Pairing: Cain x Abel
Theme: eta #27: precarious
Rating: Adults because the fandom is an explicit adult webcomic.
Warning: language, sexual harassment.
Summary: Abel is summoned by Commander Bering. Part 3/30
Disclaimer: Starfighter belongs to Hamletmachine. I put some half-baked OCs in this post
Previous
When an unexpected silence took hold of the busy mess hall, Abel looked up from his tablet computer to find two fighters standing next to his table, staring at him. He did not recognize them, but considering he had only seen the fighters of Red Team in a passing blur as he and Cain rushed to board the Reliant, that was nothing to be alarmed about. The two men were not a security task force either. Abel noted that with some relief as he pressed his palm against the tablet. The computer beeped softly before powering down.
The taller fighter of the pair had a scar on his right cheek and his head was shaved. As if his appearance was not intimidating enough, the fighter moved up right next to Abel and spoke in a deep voice that carried easily through the quiet mess hall. "Commander Bering orders you, the Reliant's navigator, to report to his office immediately."
Abel tipped up his chin. “Acknowledged. Tell the commander I'm on my way." Abel glanced at his breakfast plate. Only a bit of jelly smeared toast was left and he popped it into his mouth before picking up his coffee cup. It was not like he had anything important to do today. There was a damage control inservice at 1400 and more simulator practice in the late afternoon.
As Abel drank his coffee, he glanced over the rim of his cup and realized no one at his table was talking because the fighters were still there. Yes, the messenger had said immediately and Abel knew Commander Bering was a busy man, but Abel had been in the Alliance long enough to know about the hurry up and wait routine. He could rush right over to the commander's office only to stand around for an hour or more until Bering had time to see him. In fact, Bering's secretary could have paged him directly since the main computer would have a record of him using a tablet.
He set down his cup and sighed. Looked like he was back to being the newbie everyone doubted could follow a simple order."Later," he said to the other navigators seated with him as he pushed away from the table in a leisurely manner. They all wished him well, although some of them looked nervous. For a second Abel wished they would simply tell him what was bothering them. Had something like this happened with he other Reliant navigators? He was tempted to just blurt out the question, but if the info was classified then this was not the time or place to ask about such things.
When Abel was halfway out of his chair, the tall fighter grabbed his arm and tugged hard enough for Abel's feet to leave the floor. "Damn!" Abel shouted. All around the room, tableware and plates clattered as the other navigators from Red Team jumped to their feet. "What the hell is your problem?" The two fighters moved a little closer to Abel, but they did not appear to be concerned by Abel's displeasure or the crowd's response.
"We will escort you to Commander Bering's office."
Abel glanced at the fighter's large hand encircling his upper arm. The man stood almost thirty centimeters taller than him and his wide shoulders now blocked most of his view of the mess hall.
"I know --" Abel lowered his voice when he realized it was sounding a bit squeaky. "I know the way to the Commander's office." He hoped to sound less flustered than he was, but this guy was pushing buttons that did not need to be mashed on right now. Being so casually pulled up was making him feel like a little child again being disciplined by his father.
"Commander Bering is at his secondary office within the fighter base level." The fighter released his arm before gesturing to an exit behind Abel. Abel was quick to put some distance between them before he noticed all of Red Team, standing and watching him, as if waiting for a sign to rescue him. His face and ears grew warm. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern; it just wasn't necessary.
"So what's the hurry?" Abel said while smoothing out his uniform sleeve. "Do you girls need to get your hair done before the big dance tonight?" There was scattered laughter about the mess hall as the tension seemed to ease. It made him feel better because he did not want anyone getting hurt or reprimanded on his account. Truth be told, he put the odds in the fighters' favor even though the two were outnumbered.
"Hey, Abel! Abel, look over here." Abel turned to look at a navigator who was standing at another table. He was holding up a tablet. "I've got their pics and the time they came to get you. I sent it all to Commander Cook's secretary and he said this is legit."
"Thanks." That was certainly better help than starting a riot.
Waving to the other navigators in the mess hall as if he were in some bizarre parade, Abel strolled towards the exit with the tall fighter now leading the way and the other falling in very close behind. Before his escort could push him out the doorway, Abel stopped to slide his borrowed tablet into the dropbox provided so it could be returned to supply. The fighter behind him crowded up into his personal space as Abel deliberately took his time with the whole process. As the seconds ticked by, the buzz of mess hall conversations grew louder.
Abel was raising his hand to swipe it over the scanner embedded in the dropbox when the fighter's blunt fingers skimmed across his ribs to find several ticklish spots that made Abel squirm. "Stop that," Abel said as he looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “What are you -- six years old?" The other fighter raised a thick eyebrow a few millimeters before jabbing Abel in the side. Abel's breath hitched when his body wanted him to laugh and cry Ouch! at the same time. Damn fighters never played fair. A small light on the dropbox glowed green to show the tablet had been properly deposited.
Unable to stall any longer, Abel left the mess hall with his escorts. He had already made enough commotion for one day so he departed Central Command without complaining. Even though the tall fighter set a quick pace, Abel did not ask him to slow down nor did he try to match the long strides. He knew jogging was the only way he could possibly keep up. Instead he kept the man in sight as they made their way down the long corridors.
What a relief it was when they finally stepped into an elevator. Since they were the only ones in the elevator, he threw out a couple questions although he was not expecting any answers from these two gorillas. "Have you seen Cain?" Silence. "Will he be there also?" No reply. Abel had now confirmed that fighters were all a bunch of tight lipped bastards. The loyalty of brothers in battle seemed to give them a united front unlike the navigators who were known to gossip and snipe when bored.
Less than 24 hours ago, he would have listed Cain as an exception to that idea of loyalty. At first he had considered Cain a cold blooded bastard for wanting to abandon the Tiberius. But after mulling it over, he realized that Cain had very little reason to trust Abel's flight skills prior to the starbase attack. Cain knew better now. Assisting another member of Red team, or any team for that matter, was not some 'stunt' either. Abel refused to leave anyone behind if he had the means to help.
Upon exiting the elevator, Abel followed the lead fighter down a narrow hallway where they were met by two more fighters. The sentries, their faces partially shadowed by their helmets, looked at Abel closely before one of them spoke to the tall fighter up front. "This had better not be another jackass prank, Othello. Commander Bering wasn't in a forgiving mood the last time some idiots dragged a navigator down into the base then ditched him." Abel felt his mouth go dry. Perhaps that was what had been bothering some of the other navigators.
"It's no damn prank. Bering threatened to dock my and Heathcliffe's pay if we don't get this scrawny navigator to his office within thirty minutes. Now open the fucking door already."
"I'm sorry, guys. If I'd known there really was --" Abel started to say.
"Shut up, Nugget." Othello snapped his fingers at the sentry before gesturing at the door.
"No need to bite my head off, man. Just doing my duty," the sentry mumbled before stepping aside.
Once inside the fighter base level, Abel kept glancing about with some serious concern. He could not imagine being down here all alone where his white uniform made him stand out like a glowing target, yet he had to grin a little when he pictured Porthos' obnoxious pal as the one who got pranked by the fighters. Maybe that's why he had such a low opinion of them. None the less, the damn place was unnerving him with the constant feeling of being watched from the shadow filled hallways that branched off from the main corridor. He even broke into a jog, although he had not wanted to, when a fighter walking down the opposite side of the corridor stopped to stare at Abel like a hungry wolf sizing up a rabbit. Abel was suddenly very thankful for his escort.
Time passed like the twisted flow of a bad dream until they finally reached their destination. An assistant checked Abel’s ID before announcing his arrival over the office intercom, but Abel was not led in to see Commander Bering. He and the two fighters were now standing before an empty desk when the secretary left without saying a word about how long the wait would be.
And they waited and waited, just as Abel had predicted. "Rushed down here and all for what?" Abel shook his head. "Don't you guys have other things do? I'm not a damn flight risk. And I'm not about to wander hell's hallways on my own."
Heathcliffe chuckled. "You'll need us for the walk back," he said, grinning as he leaned his hip against the desk while facing Abel
"Bering can always assign someone else." Abel shrugged his shoulders, but could not help smiling back at Heathcliffe. Because Heathcliffe had been behind him for the march down here, Abel did not get a chance to really study him. The guy didn't look half bad when he smiled. He found the man's thick eyebrows, high forehead and tousled hair kind of attractive in an offbeat way. Even Heathcliffe's blue eyes reminded Abel of an ocean he had not seen in a long time. All at once Abel's thoughts strayed to what Heathcliffe might be concealing under that armor. He had to be in good shape with all the physical training fighters did. Nothing wrong with imagining he told himself as he forced his eyes to look back at the office door. It wasn't like he was desperate, only more aware of the possibilities around him since his night with Cain.
The fighter leaned down towards Abel. "I like you. You remind me of a cat I used to own. He was always hissing and putting on a show." Alarms went off in Abel's mind. Did this guy seriously think Abel wanted to flirt with him? Heathcliffe continued speaking as Abel leaned back slightly. "I'll ask Cain to let me spend half an hour with you tonight." Oh no, as Abel feared, it was worse than that.
Abel frowned at Heathcliffe while considering if this was all part of the teasing or if they had crossed over some unmarked boundary of Hell. "I know you guys like to torment the navigators, but Cain ..." He took a slow step backwards only to have his ass slapped by Othello with enough force to send him flying forward again. Quick reflexes allowed Abel to catch his balance before he collided with Heathcliffe, although he had to slap his hands against the fighter's armored chest just to keep some distance between them.
"Cain isn't my damn pimp." He eyed the office door and wondered if he should just walk in uninvited. Heathcliffe would not be foolish enough to assault him here, yet the trip back was another story.
"Oh, he wants it, Cliff," Othello said as he punched the other man's shoulder. "He's more upset about Cain calling the shots than he is about you fucking him."
Heathcliffe touched Abel's left cheek close to the corner of his mouth. "Everyone knows what that scar means, Kitty-boy. I don't mind owing Cain a favor if I get to tap that cute little ass of yours. I'm still hard from watching you shake it all the way to the office."
"Not interested." Abel took a step to the side, but Heathcliffe followed right along with him.
"Liar, liar, liar," Heathcliffe stretched his whispered words out in a sing-song fashion. "I caught your eyes undressing me a moment ago. They were on me for a little too long. Yep, tonight you're going to ride my big cock until your --" As the door to the inner office opened, both fighters snapped to attention, their heels clicking together loudly.
When the assistant gave the signal to proceed into the office, Abel dashed in, hoping there would be no reason for Othello or Heathcliffe to follow him.
Next