I’m sick and needed to direct the medicine coursing through my system into something creative. Thank you @elwon, @markcat, @pentapoda for the suggestions.
Space Ace Blues | rated: g | 250 words
Jason twists in the padded chair at the center of the meka’s drive frame trying to find a comfortable position. His thighs hang over the seat. The chest harness groans at his every motion. Clearly the frame is meant for a slighter build. It’s not the first time he’s had to make do with hand-me-down specs.
With a flick of his hands, the optics display flicker to life above his head. The interface differs from the standard meka models reserved for garrison trainees. Green code slides across a carbon background spreading systems information into his line of sight in digestible bursts. A series of letters spin up after the system start completes.
“Welcome, Cadet Jason Todd, pilot class, rank 01-36. I am O.R.A.C.L.E.”
The voice drifts gently from all sides of the frame instead of his earpiece. The UPL typically designs AI with neutral vocal encoders and personalities that are recognizable but faint, like an echo. This one is decidedly female. Strange.
There is an expectant pause, and Jason remembers he’s supposed to respond. It’s important that he establishes a positive first impression. His continued presence in the program isn’t up to the instructors, it’s up to the AI.
“Thank you, Oracle. I am connected. Nothing but green lights. Let’s do this.”
“Someone sounds eager to begin the test simulation.”
“Yes,” he says, softly. “I am.”
“Good,” the AI replies, and Jason hopes it’s approval in her tone. “Simulation zed two alpha one starting now. Try to keep up, ace.”
Jason wakes up soul bonded to Dick Grayson (but it’s not true love) | rated: e | 400 words
There’s a voice at his ear complaining about the heat in sibilant whispers. Hot, it’s hot, it’s so hot, goes the soft refrain, and like a spell, the words conjure the heat. It washes over his skin, a prickly burning sensation like heavy wool on a summer’s night.
Jason rolls to his side dislodging sheets from his shoulders and back. Cool air washes gently over him, but it does not soothe the whispers dragging Jason from his sleep.
It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot.
“Will you please. Shut. The Fuck. Up!” Jason snarls, tearing up from the bed. The covers explode around him like an angry ghost. He darts his head from left to right searching for the disturbance, but he’s alone. He glances back to the pillows and the soft indentation beside him. He shouldn’t be alone right now.
Groaning, Jason climbs out of the bed. His head swims for a moment. He needs to replenish, water, food, a month of yoga classes. He’ll figure it out once he checks on Dick.
This safehouse is a forgotten basement storeroom fortified against intrusion. There’s only two rooms, bedroom and kitchenette/med bay with an emergency shower behind a partition that Jason had renovated to his satisfaction. He finds Dick there slumped against the brick wall. His face tilts toward the cool water. His engorged cock tips against his belly, red with anger. His fingers slide between his thighs twisting into his slit.
Jason approaches slowly. Dick’s head swerves towards his footsteps, but he doesn’t acknowledge him. His fingers hasten, twisting now, pushing a second inside, but it’s not enough. Jason can feel the desperation coursing through Dick, the emptiness.
“You alright there, goldie?” he whispers, crouching just outside of the water’s spray.
Dick moans softly, curling his hips up in time with the weak jerk of fingers. His eyes open then, the usually bright eye gaze is dark with need. Rolling to his back, Dick raises his legs exposing his hot cunt dripping wet from the shower, slick, and Jason’s seed. Jason’s own stomach twists with desire.
Jason freezes. Those words, he heard them so clearly, but Dick hadn’t uttered a single sound from his lips.
“Oh, Dickie,” he mutters, crawling forward. “I think we’re going to have a serious talk when this heat is over.”
The last thing either of them wants is a heat bond.
JoyDickaldur – woke up married | rated: m | 450 words
A frown marked Roy’s handsome face each time he glanced at the bed’s sole occupant. He scrubbed a hand over his face before beginning his circuit around the tower. There weren’t too many places to go in the room. The bed dominated the room’s center and the rounded walls meant he couldn’t even walk a complete circuit. And then there was asshole mountain looming against the room’s one window with a cigarette clenched between Jason’s full lips, lips that tasted like…. Roy gave him and that dirty mouth wide berth.
Kaldur looked up as he passed a second time. “Roy, please. Sit with me,” he said, a beseeching look on his face. Roy took a step forward because he couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t listen to Kaldur, didn’t rely on him as a friend, a confidant. But then there’s a whole period that is blank between them too, memories he never made, experiences he never had.
But he has one memory blooming as he stares at Kaldur. So bright and clear, newly made in the near dark. The glow of fireworks against the stone wall, bodies moving. Kaldur’s face twisted in pleasure, his eyes opening, lancing Roy as sure as any blade. His hand extended out as he whispered, Roy.
“Yeah, no.” Roy grunted, and turned the other way. “Why the hell is short pants still asleep?”
“He exhausted himself from the talks, and now. He is in a room with those he trusts most. It’s to be expected after. After last night.” Kaldur’s voice trails away as if embarrassed, and for a moment, Roy wished he didn’t have his back to the room.
Roy laughed sharply. “He’s just being lazy.”
“He’s an idiot,” Jason growled.
Dick’s voice cut through the tension. “He can hear each one of you,” he said, during a fitful yawn. “And he’s sore in all the right places and would rather be picking through his memories of what happened last night then listen to his friend’s argue.”
The silence greeting that statement was thick with ominous intent.
“What?” Dick rolls to a seated position in the middle of the bed and glances at the assembled members of Team Delta. “Was it something I said?”
“You mean your husbands, right?” Jason asked, a strange mix of scoffing and fearful all at once.
Dick blinked. “Excuse me?”
Roy clapped his hands together. “Alright. We’re taking it from the top one last time. Who wants to do the honors?”
“I will relate the situation to Dick,” Kaldur said, gently. The two exchanged a soft look before Kaldur turned his storm cloud eyes towards Dick. “Tell me, what do you remember about our purpose here? The mission.”
Tentacles | rated: m | 800 words
Coming to grips with the fact that your body now houses an amorphous cloud of eldritch power made to fill the mind of man with terror wasn’t the easiest thing to accomplish. Especially when said cloud hitched a ride as you escaped the black aether of death—and what does that say about the afterlife anyway?—then bided its time, feeding from the host’s confusion and rage and magic until it could manifest itself like some Cthullian horror after said host’s plans for vengeance exploded into dust. Again, not the easiest thing to get past, but when you’ve got a boyfriend like Dick Grayson in your corner, it didn’t seem insurmountable.
“Okay, Jay. Ted and I will go one more time and then it’s break time.”
Jason mentally flexed and his tentacle responded, curling against the sword hilt and rising from the floor. The blade flashed in salute before slicing in the air. It was met by Dick’s blade and from there, the second battle took place in the open floorspace far from Jason’s seat on the couch.
While Jason had been content to keep the horror-driven appendages locked inside of his body for good, Dick insisted that Jason should gain some sort of familiarity. Easy for him to say, but in the long run, the plan had worked. Now Jason could amass the tentacles at will and mostly, they listened to him, obeying his commands as easily as any other part appendage on his body. But there were three tentacles that seemed to operate with some bit of autonomy. They had a stubbornness, curiosity, drive, and devotion to Dick that matched Jason in every way. It was frustrating to see the least. After several weeks of training with Dick, however, they appeared to have struck some sort of accord. A little bit of stimulation and some free time manifested around the apartment, and Jason was basically back to normal. Jason was fine with this silent arrangement.
He could have done without Dick naming them though.
The sword slashed down and up again, twining lightly around Dick’s blade. It flicked hard, nearly dislodging the hilt from Dick’s hand.
“Wow, Ted that was great,” Dick exclaimed. “Well done.”
Ted, the tentacle, wiggled then dropped the sword to the ground before launching towards Dick. It wrapped around Dick’s waist, burrowing under the thin shirt and undulating upwards in wide sweeps against the pleasantly damp skin before peeping out of the shirt’s neck. Dick chuckled fondly as the blunt tip pat along his cheek. “You want kisses huh?”
Jason felt a stirring somewhere from his right. It was strangely present within but also away from his body. He sighed as Bill fell into existence. A second tentacle landed against his lap where it waved distractedly before shooting off for kisses. Jason rolled his eyes even as the intense burst of feeling slide down his gullet like wine. It was almost as if he felt Dick’s lips pressing against his own but that same feeling echoed through his body and beyond. The kisses were soft, slow, and warm, exactly how Jason preferred. It was the perfect torture.
“You know,” Jason began, voice strained. “You really need to stop saying that word. It’s going to get him out of the netherspace.”
“What word?” Dick asked. “Kisses.” There was a flash of tongue and Jason arched from the couch. His cock stirred, and he groaned because that means something else would be eager to play.
“Is that Rufus tickling up my….? OH. Yeah.” Dick’s voice becomes a breathless hum. “Yeah. That’s Rufus.”
A sharp tearing sound filled the air followed by the soft wump of another discarded pair of jeans. Jason watches as the soft touch slides between Dick’s thighs to coil around his stiffening cock.
Jason climbed from the couch, grinning at the sight of Dick’s arms spread apart. “I see you have fallen into my trap, Sailor Goldie. If only you had taken my advice and kept your mouth shut. I suppose this is another lesson you should learn.”
“Oh no!” Dick’s stage gasp needed a lot of work, but then the boys, as Jason called them, always made him a little too enthusiastic.
He sent a direct command and Rufus obeyed, giving Dick’s dick a slow rolling squeeze before unraveling its grip. It swayed upward pushing Bill and Ted apart to take all the sweet attention for itself. The blunt tip circled Dick’s mouth gently, and Jason could feel the hot brush of air against his lips, his hands, and Rufus before it slipped between those lips. Dick shivered and moaned at the slow invasion. More tentacles manifested around Jason, long and paler than his own skin, before darting forward to lift Dick from the ground.
Jason grinned wickedly. “Now it’s break time.”
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