This is a work of fanfiction. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were made and no disrespect is intended with this fic.

After It's Over
Part Two
by Banshee and Paula

The pilot's ready room was set up with rows of lockers and benches running the length between them. The others had already left by the time Wedge walked out of the 'fresher to find Wes standing at the end of the bench between his and Tycho's lockers.

Tycho, his back to Wedge, was laughing at something Wes said and the Corellian bit his lip. He sat down on the bench a little closer to the blond than was necessary and began removing his flight boots. His locker was across from his second's so they were facing opposite directions with Wes standing to the side of them both.

From the corner of his eyes, Wedge could see the handsome, blue-eyed prankster watching them as they began changing out of their flightsuits. Self-conscious, Wedge looked up at him, "Wes, what are you still doing here? Don't you have beings to torment other than us?"

The Tanaabian shrugged, "The captain has eased the alert status for the evening since we'll be in hyperspace for a couple of days. Thought I would invite the two of you to join us in the pilot's lounge for a drink."

Wedge wasn't sure but thought there was an ulterior motive behind Wes' offer. "Sorry, Wes. I just want to take a hot shower, try to catch up on paperwork and then get some much-needed sleep." He peeled himself out of his flightsuit and began pulling on his shipsuit.

Wes nodded knowingly and winked at Tycho, "Translation: you have a bottle of Whyren's stashed in your quarters and a warm friend to share it with." He chuckled and turned to leave, licking his lips. Before he walked out the door, he added almost too softly for them to hear, "Lucky friend."

Wedge stopped cold, jerking his head around to raise his eyebrows incredulously at Tycho, who had finished dressing and was waiting on his commander. "What did he mean by that?"

Tycho tried to hide his smirk, "Just that you're the one he has a crush on, not me." He watched the dark-haired man finish changing with a smoldering expression, "So, shower and sleep? I guess that means your quarters rather than mine."

Wedge moved faster than Tycho thought possible and pushed him up against the lockers, moving in close to nibble the Alderaanian's ear and neck. "Maybe I decided I want to go to your quarters this time," he purred.

Tycho was incoherent but managed to rasp, "Not good. I have a roommate, remember? Besides, he asked if he could have the room to himself tonight."

Wedge moaned as he pulled back and spitted him with a glare, "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Tycho chuckled and responded smugly, "You didn't ask."

But of course, Wedge's privacy issues made the pilot's ready room a rather bad place for open sex. And then there was the fact that lockers made for a very uncomfortable position for one of them. So, Wedge leaned in and kissed Tycho hungrily, letting his tongue probe his mouth with a gentle firmness, knowing full well that he was driving his lieutenant wild.

Tycho let out a heady moan and moved his body so that he conformed with Wedge's. They were perfect compliments of each other. Tycho shifted his thigh so that it pressed up against the growing erection between his commanding officer's legs.

Wedge hissed and ran his hand through Tycho's blond hair, relishing the feeling of the strands running over and in between his fingers.

Wedge had always had very sensitive hands. They reacted to every slight touch from a lover, creating a connection that ran directly to his groin. He felt himself harden even more as Tycho rubbed his leg. "Oh," he groaned, pulling away from the lieutenant's searching mouth. He buried his face in his lover's shoulder. "I don't think I'm going to last all that long. Should we find other accommodations?"

"You could take me here," Tycho whispered suggestively.

Wedge looked at him. Tycho's blue eyes winked back with a look that drove Wedge wild. "And see Luke's reaction? No, thank you."

Tycho leaned back casually and raised an eyebrow. "You mean you'd mind if he joined in?"

Wedge growled seductively in the back of his throat. "One blond's enough to satisfy my needs."

The lieutenant grinned and patted his cheek. "I'm so pleased, love."

Wedge, not in the mood for games -- the growing bulge in his pants evidence to that fact -- grabbed his lover's hand in a bruising grip. "Come on," he pleaded, fearing that he would be walking funny before long.

Tycho winked and brushed Wedge's disheveled brown hair over his forehead in an intimate playful gesture. "I'll take pity on you, you pathetic slave to your own desires. Just lead the way to your quarters."

Wedge let out a silent prayer to the gods that Tycho had stopped playing his games. Wedge liked games; he thought that they made sex a more entertaining pastime. His only requirement was that he was undressed while they were going on and at the culminating point, he'd be permitted to spend himself without fear of being walked in upon.

These types of games were best played in the privacy of his own quarters with Tycho lying naked beside him.

Not in the pilot's ready room where they were open to Wes' nosy eyes. They left quickly and ran -- well, walked -- as swiftly as possible through the corridors of the ship while still maintaining decorum. Wedge was convinced that it would be just his luck to be summoned by Luke for some reason or another. He wanted to minimize the risk of encountering his C.O., knowing full well that every time he saw him, Luke assigned something more to do.

Continued in Part Three