marlowemuses | Now I'm seeing red, not thinking straight

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Now I'm seeing red, not thinking straight

It was strange, how suddenly the world had changed at the end of the war. The alliance had suddenly unlocked some classified new ability that only certain fighters could wield, and only through the use of navigators, but any navigator would do, and the rumors were that the technique used navigators up and drained them, making them disposable. Interchangeable. Not like the rare and highly-skilled fighters.

With the end of the war, a general--a fighter--had taken over presidency of the alliance with a landslide victory. The surviving fighters were all war heroes, lavishly rewarded.

And Abel, at the top of his class, was still in the academy at the end of the war, and graduated with no war and no purpose. But the alliance was what he wanted, and he'd worked to earn his title as a navigator, so he took it, and the position he was offered. He was to be paired with a fighter, one of the war heroes of the alliance. An honor, they said, that he'd earned, through his hard-work and skill.

But that wasn't quite right, because there wasn't a war anymore. They'd wiped out the Colterons, and they had enough military power to conquer any other races that appeared within reach. Abel didn't know what this position was, with his assignment to a fighter. He was given the code name to match his fighter: Cain.

It occurred to him that some navigator before had been called Abel. Whoever that navigator was, they were probably dead now.

Packing up his little room at the academy, Abel boarded a transport and went to meet his fate.

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The war is over and they won. The fighters won and from here on out, they would be war heroes, granted everything and anything they asked for. They deserved it, of course. They had fought a long and hard battle, and while the navigators did have a part to play in that, it was a small one. One that Cain didn't really care about.

They could stay on, or go home... and home had been something Cain had been wanting to get back to for a while, but life was pretty sweet here now and fighting was what he was good at. He doesn't want to stop... even though there's no war anymore. There's always more to do. There will always be something else.

His last navigator didn't make it, but Cain wasn't too attached. They did what they had to do and that was that. He can't imagine why they would assign him a new one, but apparently it's better this way, keeping them prepared for what's to come. Not just that, but the fighters can have whatever they want now, and most of them just want to fight and fuck, so if that's what the navigator is here for, Cain will take it.

Abel was used to luxury, having grown up as a politician's son on Earth, but he wasn't expecting to find it here, on a military station. He triple-checked the location and coordinates he'd been given, thinking that this was all wrong. He was supposed to be meeting a fighter, wasn't he? A soldier. Even if fighters were lauded as heroes, this was still... so much. So luxurious.

But maybe that, too, made sense. Abel was the best, so he'd be given to the best, out of all the fighters in the alliance. Maybe he did belong here, and this was his reward for all his hard work in the academy.

Heart racing, Abel approached the door and rang the buzzer, hoping that his fighter would be in and he wouldn't have to wait.

Cain makes his new navigator wait anyway, because he's in the middle of a VR training session where he's kicking everyone's ass, so it's not like he's going to stop right in the middle of it.

About ten minutes later, he remembers that the doorbell rang and he tosses the headset aside and goes to answer the door, wondering what kind of eager little puppy will be on the other side. When he swings it open, he's in nothing but a pair of low riding sweats with the Starfighter logo on the side, and a vaguely bored look on his face.

He gets a good look at the navigator in front of him, then steps aside to let him in. "Well, at least you're better to look at than the last one."

Abel rang the bell three times, then gave up and took a seat with a book to wait. He looks up at the rather impressive view of the shirtless fighter in his low-slung pants and shuts his book, getting up at his own pace and bringing his bag inside.

He looks around at the luxury, then back at his fighter, who is physically impressive but otherwise unexceptional, as far as Abel can tell, and his bored look certainly was't winning Abel's heart. Was this really the best of the fighters?

Cain raises an eyebrow at the silent navigator and kicks the door closed, grabbing the other man's bag from him and starts walking backwards toward the bedroom. "Do you talk, or is that pretty mouth of yours reserved solely for other things? Cause you know, I'm good either way."

Cain talks enough for everyone, pretty much. He never knows when to shut up.

"It's nice to meet you, Cain," Abel responds, dryly. He does appreciate Cain taking his bag for him, which is a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. Following after him, Abel stays close, looking around at everything as they walk. "I'm Abel. You have a very nice house."

"Ah, he speaks," Cain says with a smirk, then turns and leads them into a bedroom that really is far too big for one person. Two will be a better fit. He tosses Abel's bag on the bed, then goes over to the window to open the curtains and let some more light in.

"Abel. Hah. That's cute." He muses, before pointing to the side of the bed closest to the window. "This is my bedroom. That sides yours. Don't snoop around in my shit." Not that he even has much shit. This place came fully furnished and he didn't really bring much back with him from the ship, but it feels good to say anyway. "Bathroom's here," he waves a hand toward the lavish bathroom connected to the bedroom, then walks over to the dresser and kicks the bottom drawer. "This one's yours. What else do you need?"

"Thank you." Evidently they're sharing a bed. Abel's not about to argue with that. Cain's being reasonably generous about everything else. Looking around with shy curiosity, he returns to Cain's side again once he's gotten a brief overview of the place. "Food would be nice. Please."

They're going to be sharing a lot more than that, real soon. Abel can figure out the layout of the place later. Cain's more interested in what this guy can actually do.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, except I like to start with dessert." He grabs the waistband of Abel's pants, hooking a finger through a belt loop and yanks him closer, "When they said they were sending me a new navigator, I didn't think they meant actual fresh meat. Just look at you." Cain does plenty of looking, dragging a thumb across Abel's lower lip before leaning in and kissing him hard.

Abel tenses up in surprise at the kiss, but he doesn't resist it. He's never been kissed before, and he certainly didn't expect it to be like this. He can't precisely object, though.

Resting his hands against Cain's bare chest, which is a very nice bare chest and unquestionably the nicest bare chest he's ever had the privilege of touching, Abel tentatively returns the kiss, or at least tries to keep up with it.

Well this is definitely a good start. There's no resistance, and his navigator is kissing back, laying his cold hands on his chest. It's fine, really. Cain hasn't exactly bothered to go for anyone else since his previous navigator died- not out of sentimentality, of course, it's just.... well... he hasn't figured that one out yet. It doesn't matter.

It matters even less because this navigator seems to respond to him right away, despite having met only five minutes ago. Cain slides his fingers into Abel's hair and tugs him even closer, then bites his lip hard, digging his teeth in hard enough to make him bleed.

Abel cries out at the bite and struggles back from him, hurt and confused at why a sweet kiss suddenly turned into pain. His first kiss and it turns into a betrayal like this, for no reason that Abel can understand. He presses his hand to his lip, eyes wet with the sting of pain on his sensitive lip. "The fuck--"

Cain laughs, reaching out to grab Abel's hand away from his face so he can get a good look at the mark he left there. It actually looks good on him. He likes Abel's cute, innocent face better this way. "You're my bitch now. Don't want you, or anyone else to ever forget that."

He lets go, then heads out of the room, toward the kitchen, expecting Abel to follow. "Come on, Abel. Get your sweet ass moving. You're never gonna keep up with me if you don't eat. What do you like?"

"You can't just bite people," Abel argues, following after him and pressing his hand to his face again, trying to figure out how badly he's wounded. "We have to clean this. Why would you--you bit me." Abel knew that fighters were dangerous and unpredictable, but he didn't think that they were rabid.

"I don't just bite people. I bit you." Cain tosses a glance over his shoulder and smirks. "And you're going to leave it alone because it's meant to be a scar. You're my navigator and everyone's going to damn well know that."

Cain has always been the possessive type, but now that he has something to truly possess? He doesn't give a shit about holding back from taking it to the next level. And if this navigator doesn't like it, he'll get a new one. "They did tell you what you're here for, didn't they? You're a navigator. Your job is clear."

"Fuck off," Abel snaps. He follows Cain into the kitchen and gets a wet paper towel to press to his lip to deal with the bleeding. While holding this to his face, he snoops around and quickly finds a bottle of vodka.

Knocking back a swig of vodka without bothering with a glass, Abel immediately coughs, shudders, and has to lean against the counter to cope with how much that stings against his fresh wound. He splashes a little more vodka onto a clean paper towel and then presses that against his lip, swearing internally.

So this one's feisty. Good. It would be a shame if this got boring far too quickly. He opens the fridge and pulls out two beers, then watches Abel, mildly amused as he tries to attack a bottle of vodka but ends up getting attacked by it instead. Honestly, this is the most innocent looking thing he's ever seen. Innocent and feisty. He supposes the alliance finally did their homework.

"The only fucking off we'll be doing is in the bedroom. And the shower... and this counter. The couch is nice and big. I like that wall, too." He sets the beers down and comes over, snatching the paper towel away from Abel and pours more vodka on it. He grips Abel's chin, keeping him still while he inspects the damage, then carefully presses the paper towel back against it. "I'm not a doctor, but I think you'll live."

Abel winces, expecting to be hurt again when Cain grabs him, but Cain just helps with Abel's alcohol antiseptic instead. Abel doesn't fight him, a little too much in shock from being intentionally hurt for the first time in his life. Little tremors go through his body, though he otherwise manages to keep his trauma hidden.

"What, you're not gonna tell me to fuck off again?" Cain keeps his eyes on the wound, smirk still on his face. He waits till the bleeding has mostly stopped, then tosses the paper towel into the garbage across the kitchen.

"All better. Now have another drink and look through the fridge, find yourself something to eat. What's mine is yours, and all that shit." He notices the tremors, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't really care, either. He got his point across, at least.

Abel looks through the fridge, choosing some juice and apple sauce that he won't have to chew. Then he takes the beer. He'll just subsist on sugar and alcohol, it's fine.

Glaring at Cain as he drinks his juice and beer, separately, he keeps on the far side of the kitchen from him, wary of this psychopath he's been assigned to.

He considers forcing Abel to eat more than that... gotta keep his strength up after all, but he'll leave him alone about it for now. He drinks down some of his beer, eying the other man.

"Silent treatment, huh." It's fine, at least Abel isn't a bother. He also hasn't stormed out of here yet, which is good, cause Cain wouldn't want a little bite to scare him off.

But still, its better to make sure. "So here's the thing. You do what you're supposed to do and we won't have a problem. You can make this easy, or you can make this hard. It's all up to you. But if you can't handle being a navigator, the door's right there. I've had about three of you already. It's all the same to me."

"So by navigator, do you mean 'fucktoy', or do you actually intend to do training exercises with me in case we get called back to action?"

Three other navigators. Dead or driven off. Abel doesn't want to know. All the options are bad.

"Fucktoy. That's a pretty good way of putting it. I'm glad you're catching on." That indignant look on Abel's face is really something. It seems that he only opens his mouth when something rude or dirty comes out of it. Abel seems to be well on his way.

"Of course we'll do training exercises as well. I don't just sit around here on my ass all day. Gotta pretend something exciting is gonna happen, right?" There may never be another war they have to fight and Cain knows that's a good thing, but he's been fighting for so long that he doesn't know what to do with himself nowadays. "I'm the best fighter there is. You should consider yourself lucky." Pushing off the counter, he crosses the kitchen to stand in front of Abel. "Am I your first fighter, Abel?"

Abel's cheeks flush, but he keeps up his glare anyway, standing his ground. "I've had dozens," he lies, proving Cain's assumption right. "They used to pass me around the barracks. I was the most popular navigator. I once had four fighters at a time."

Cain's amused look falters for a moment, replaced with a tinge of jealousy. There's no reason for him to be jealous, it's not like he can't tell Abel is lying, but the thought of his navigator laid out in front of four other guys, sucking and licking and getting fucked- no. He wants this one to be his.

"Oh yeah? I should call up some of my friends, then. Sounds like you enjoyed that a lot. How about it?" He places a hand on Abel's chest and walks him back against the counter. "I know at least five who haven't been assigned a navigator yet. I'm sure they'd love to get a taste of you."

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