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 Three
by Banshee and Paula


He keyed in the passcode to his door in a rush, his fingers made clumsy by haste. Finally, after three tries and much cursing, the light turned green and the door slid back to allow them admittance. Tycho, ice prince that he was, stepped casually into the room and surveyed his surroundings.

"Force, Antilles, don't you ever clean house?"

Feeling safe at last, Wedge permitted himself to calm a little. He approached his lover from behind and casually wrapped his arms around the slender waist. "Not when I have other things on my mind," he murmured seductively against Tycho's ear. Much practice had taught Wedge exactly what Tycho liked. Casually, he let his tongue flick to the sensitive spot behind Tycho's ear -- the one that always made his lieutenant shiver with anticipation.

Tycho hissed and rubbed himself against Wedge's body. "I love that," he said with a moan.

"Don't I know it," whispered Wedge, letting his breath play on the hairs at the back of Tycho's neck. "You tell me every time."

He let out a low laugh; it was a heady sound that sent a tingle right to Wedge's already bulging groin. "So," Tycho said softly, "will you follow that up with something?"

Wedge grinned and gently started to nip right where the material of Tycho's clothing met his skin. Casually, he let his hands meander up the material in front, prodding at the places he knew Tycho would feel acutely, before he slid the zipper down.

With a groan, Tycho twisted in Wedge's arms and faced him full on. "I am feeling an alarming sense of want right now," he gasped hoarsely. "I think we need to hurry this up a bit." And with that, he leaned down and covered Wedge's mouth with his own, pressing his bare chest up against the material of Wedge's suit.

With a grunt, Wedge yanked at the material still gathered around Tycho's shoulders so that it fell down to his waist. He could feel the lieutenant's body heat as his tongue intertwined with his in a kiss that drove Wedge wild with a fresh bout of desire. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to see Tycho's body; he wanted to feel bare flesh against flesh in endless groping and sweat. His penis throbbed tightly with the thought.

Another groan and he shoved Tycho's shipsuit down past his hips, only slightly impeded by Tycho's own erection. He wanted to feel that erection next to him, on him, perhaps inside of him. Something, anything, to assuage this painful need. Tycho's underwear found themselves around his ankles, wadded together against the leather of his boots. His body pressed fully against him now, his erection burrowing into his hip.

Tycho pulled back a little and smiled against his lover's mouth. "Now, I think this is decidedly unfair. You are standing here fully warm, and I'm shivering."

"Get me naked too, then," Wedge murmured softly. "I won't fight you on it."

Tycho pulled back a little further and looked down at the Corellian. After a moment of careful deliberation -- what seemed like an eternity to Wedge -- the Alderaanian grinned. "All right then. With pleasure."

He leaned down and expertly undid the fastenings of his boots, stepping out of both them and his clothes. He stood up again, facing Wedge fully nude, his penis standing straight up through the curls of dark blond hair around it. He smiled. "Come now," he said slowly, taking Wedge's hand and guiding it to his erection. "You must go to the bed. That is, if you can find it through the maze of clothing and datapads on the floor."

Wedge let his fingers close gently around Tycho's shaft. The Alderaanian hissed and let out a full-fledged moan of ecstasy as his commanding officer let his thumb play over the shaft. But Wedge did not want Tycho to come yet, and it was clear that Tycho had his own form of amusement for Wedge's benefit. So he let go reluctantly, and padded over to the bed. Tycho followed him closely and pushed him into a sitting position. "Come now, Wedge," he moaned softly, "lie down."

Wedge obeyed and he was well rewarded. With an impish grin, Tycho pulled the zipper of Wedge's suit all the way down and wriggled it off of his shoulders. He leaned down and nipped at the Corellian's collarbone. Wedge groaned. "Celchu, stop screwing around. I'm dying here."

"You'll just have to be patient," he chastised. "You'll get there eventually. You always do." And he leaned back over his task.

He moved his tongue softly over his nipples, pushing Wedge back onto the bed every time he arched up to meet him. His hands moved expertly down the Corellian's sides, eliciting little moans as they paved trails over sweaty skin. They soon encountered the elastic of Wedge's boxers. With barely a pause, Tycho pushed them down Wedge's legs, baring his want to the world.

He shifted so that he was lying beside a panting Wedge, and positioned his mouth over his commander's swollen penis. He casually licked at the tip, causing a spasm and shout from the benefactor. Satisfied, he leaned and took the whole thing into his mouth from the side. Wedge groaned and tangled his hands in his lover's blond strands. "Gods," he choked.

Tycho lazily lapped at the soft skin, using one hand to stroke Wedge's pubic hair and the other to cup his testicles. Wedge panted as he grew closer and closer to release. But Tycho never got him there. With a sigh, he pulled his mouth and hands away. "No way am I letting you come without me inside of you."

Wedge looked at him through eyes hazy with unfulfilled want. "Then fuck me now," he groaned. "This is too much for my gentle constitution to take."

Tycho grinned and kissed him. "I'll just give you a moment to calm down then, will I?"

Wedge glared. "If you do, I'll never save your ass in battle again."

"Then who will you get to fuck you?"

Wedge turned over on his stomach and twisted his head to look his lover in the eye. "Wes, of course."

Tycho laughed. "Well in that case, I'd better get to work." He leaned over his lover's prostrate body and reached under the bed for the lubricant he knew to be there. With a grunt of satisfaction, he rubbed it over Wedge's exposed buttocks, enjoying the sight of his commander squirming with impatience.

Wedge was annoyed. "Hurry up."

Tycho took more of the lubricant and rubbed it on his own penis. He moaned as his fingers slid over the warm skin. Yes, he wanted to hurry up before he himself burst. He reached down and parted Wedge's legs with his fingers before guiding his penis into that receiving outlet.

With a self-satisfied sigh, he entered him and began to thrust. The tension built and built in a headlong rush as Tycho moved faster and faster against his lover, panting heavier and heavier. The sheen of sweat grew between their gyrating bodies as searching mouths found each other in a headlong rush of sex and heat.

Wedge let out a long, heart-felt groan and his body racked with convulsions. As the wave rushed over him, he reached up behind him and tangled his fingers in Tycho's hair, pulling the lieutenant down onto him in one final thrust that sent Tycho spilling into him.

They collapsed side-by-side on the narrow bed, breathing heavily. It was several moments before either could move. Wedge rolled over on his back as Tycho snuggled against his side, the Corellian's arms wrapped possessively around his lover's shoulders.

"Love you," Wedge said as he kissed the soft blond hair of the man lying on his side next to him.

Blue eyes sparkled up at him as Tycho replied, "Love you, too." He wrapped his arms around his CO's waist and chuckled, "So, are you going to continue to save my ass?"

"Every chance I get. To let something as beautiful as your ass be destroyed in a dogfight would be a crime against society."

"I'm glad I'm more to you than just sex," Tycho said with a laugh and snuggled even deeper into his commander's side. He closed his eyes.

Wedge looked at the blond eyelashes resting on ivory cheeks and kissed his lieutenant's hair. "I'd pick you over Wes any day," he said softly as they both drifted into an exhausted slumber.


Finis


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