Guns 'N' Boners
Fallen Lithium
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Fox, Smash Bros, or anything Nintendo, Konami, or SEGA related. This story is for entertainment, not profit.
"Sshhh, shut up!"
"Me?! You're the one who… yowch!!"
Fox slapped a hand over the lupine's screechy yowl that came after he stomped on his tail.
"Do you want us to get caught? Just can it!"
Saying nothing, Wolf slouched forwards moodily, making slow headway for the door to Fox's barracks. At this point, the lupine had memorized the path to his secret lover's room. From here… past two doors, hang a left past the bathroom, and voila.
For fear of having made too much noise already, the pair was creeping at a snail's pace through the cold corridors of the Great Fox. Coolant pipes and onboard computers hissed and whirred lazily as almost all of the crew slept peacefully. Gentle cracks could be seen in the ship's cool, steel floors. Tiny windows presented a slightly unnerving view of the black hole. Thankfully, the Great Fox's super-intelligent onboard navigation system was forging a safe, steady path around this minor annoyance.
Fox McCloud was dressed lightly, kind of like the undecorated interior of his cruiser (Oh, we simply must dress this place up a bit!). He wore nothing underneath a pair of flimsy silk pyjama bottoms that never failed to draw a horny companion's eye. Many-a time he had snuck around with Wolf quietly through the night. Every time, he wore the same silk Pee-jay's. And never, ever, did those bottoms fail to draw a wandering, lusty eye as it hung loosely off of strong hips and…
God, just thinking about the way Wolf talked him when they were… doing that… made him horny. This wasn't good… It wasn't…
CRASH!
Wolf's hand reflexively flew to cover his own mouth, even though he didn't do anything. He watched as Fox lay, slightly dizzy and confused, over a pile of empty soup cans.
To anyone else, that would be merely perplexing. But for Wolf, those cans were pure terror.
The cans marked the entrance to Falco's room.
When the avian had first placed the cans in a neat pyramid in front of the sliding door, his team mates just gave him that "psychiatric help" stare.
While the air conditioning blew through the ship, Falco had explained that such a primitive system of security was in fact, quite effective. The noise would jolt him out of his sleep, he said, if anyone happened to be sneaking around in the dark.
He'd also rather ironically added that no one would be sneaking around in the dark while the beloved battleship was floating through space, right?
The memory still fresh in his mind, the vulpine opened his mouth to curse just as the door swung open.
"Whuzzat?!" cried a still-asleep Falco. The master pilot was waving what Wolf assumed was supposed to be a gun. It was actually a plush toy of Fox, complete with the headgear he wore on missions. He had a strange cloth mask covering his eyes, and was waving the doll around wildly. Of course, practically by-law, Falco just had to sleep naked, and Fox just rolled his eye at the swinging appendage of a sleep walker.
"Gitouttaher!!" Falco screeched, almost un-intelligibly.
"Motherfucker…" Fox cursed quietly.
"Huh?!" Suddenly, Falco was stock-still, and Wolf's fur jumped on its ends. Had he woken up? Was it time for the legendary confrontation?
His question was answered as Falco's still unconscious body suddenly fell ass-backwards back into his bedroom, and the door gave a convincing swish as he collapsed from view.
No one moved until the encouraging sound of contented snores drifted through the heavy-duty door.
Shaking his head, Fox disentangled himself from the goodness of Whole Grain Chicken Noodle Soup and motioned for Wolf to follow him again.
"Does he always sleepwalk?" a curious lupine asked.
"Fairly often. We found him with his head stuck in a bowl of salad in the fridge one morning," was the flat reply.
"Wow," the Star Wolf leader chucked, "and you--"
"Shut up." Fox hissed for the umpteenth time that night.
"Come onnnn," Wolf smirked as Fox's door swished closed behind them. "You promised we could do that! You said, "Yes, Wolfie, sounds hot!"!"
"First of all, I said no such thing. That sounds disgusting and horribly demeaning. Second, I've never called you Wolfie!"
Wolf rolled his eye again. "Fine," he conceded. "So you caught me on my lie."
"There was nothing to catch" Fox said with a cheeky grin. "You handed yourself over."
"Kinky."
Wolf surveyed the room he'd spent so much time fucking his forbidden lover in. It was warm and inviting, yet it also felt like it was harbouring some strange, dark secret. Pictures of a younger Fox lovingly draped around his father hung about the room. There was a large poster for some indie band Wolf had never heard of. A decrepit old laser pistol lay propped up in a frame on Fox's bedside table. The first time he'd been in here, Fox had explained to him that it was the first gun his father ever gave him.
Others might find that as something of a creepy way to bond with a parent, but Wolf didn't see it, given as he had no recollection of having a family.
When Fox McCloud came into his picture, it had been as a worst enemy, the kind of person Wolf had been trained to hate his entire life. There had been insults, dogfights in space, and invasions of territory. Yet, Wolf had never felt less compelled to help when the Star Fox team was stuck in some kind of bind.
Many would be quick to call that the start of a friendship, but it was really more of a mutual respect. After the incident with the Aparoids, the dogfights stopped being about murder and for Wolf, about collecting his next cheque. They became about respect, marking boundaries. Hell, each party had admitted that they look forward to the space battles. They had become fun.
Fox and Wolf already knew that they had fun together before they even spoke face-to-face. Communication lines through Arwings and Wolfens, cheques with huge credit numbers, and bias over relatives long dead blinded the visions of both of them. Alright, so maybe that last one was a stretch, but Wolf knew that he cared about Fox before either of them knew the other did.
Which might explain Wolf's sudden flare of jealous range when Cornerian news crews chased Fox through a torrential downpour in the streets, pining for information about a new relationship he was in. The vulpine had hidden his face under the hood of his black trench coat.
(The sexy trench coat)
Wolf remembered how his angry pulse had quickened, how he couldn't take his eye off of the television even as an advertisement for industrial strength deodorant had attempted to invade his wallet. He remembered clutching the pillows of the couch in his shitty apartment so tightly that cotton began to leak out of the seams.
What made Wolf even more angry than (his) Fox being stolen from him, taking him away from their fun time, was how confused he was about why he felt how he did. He wasn't supposed to be pissed off about it, but he was.
Two days later, photos of Fox getting his ass grabbed by his new companion only served to make him angry and horny as hell.
Even more stress-inducing than the anger was the sexual frustration of it all.
At night, he would dream about pounding the vulpine so hard that his body left a contour in the bed. Springs broke, sheets flew, and sweat poured down both of their furry bodies.
These were the dreams, of course.
The mismatched duo had their first… encounter at a niche coffee shop in Corneria's seedy downtown district. Fire's burned from garbage cans and all of the brown buildings had a minimum of two broken windows each. Fox had been there with his companion. The vile creature had stolen away to a bathroom.
Upon seeing eying Wolf across the room, Fox strode across in two quick paces, until he was towering above Wolf at his table, casually skimming through some political satire magazine.
"No camera's here," Fox had whispered.
"None," Wolf replied.
Each animal was silent for a moment.
"He'll be back any minute," Fox muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook held together by a thin, nicely painted white wire.
(powers of observation)
Before O'Donnell could even ask Fox if they're attraction was indeed attraction, the vulpine was gone. The lupine had slowly opened the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
SEC-2149-0417-0982
The hint was subtle. As a bounty hunter, Wolf knew how to crack easy codes like this.
The 'SEC' was Fox's casual method of informing him of the Great Fox's security code.
Three days after that cataclysmic (to Wolf's twisted subconscious) event, Star Fox and Star Wolf met in the air again.
The good guys had been called to an abandoned tropical island somewhere in a region known only as the "Great Sea" to help clean the wreckage of a demolished island. Star Wolf had arrived right on schedule, hoping to pillage the remains before clean-up crews arrived.
"Wolf," Leon's strangled voice came through the Wolfen's obsolete communicator. "We got SF company."
A simple 90 degree turn sent Wolf face-to-face with Fox in his shiny new Arwing. An unspoken message was sent between the bounty hunter and the mercenary, and Wolf barked into the speaker.
"Leon. Panther. Deal with the rest of Fox's team. We're taking this up to the skies."
The leader didn't need to see his team mates nods to know that they understood. "Roger, Captain," Leon told them flatly. "Can I capture and torture them?" he added hopefully.
"No," was Wolf's heavy reply. "Just keep him distracted so Fox and I can do this."
With that, the fighters were off into the stars. Wolf turned off Star Wolf's private channel and opened a public line to Fox.
"Get it?" Fox asked immediately.
Wolf knew what he was referring to.
"Yeah," he shot back. "You weren't all that stealthy about it."
An unexpected laser blast suddenly rocked the Wolfen and caused Wolf to hit his head off of the roof.
"Wolf… don't diss my stealth," Fox couldn't help but chuckle faintly over the channel as he spoke.
The lupine discreetly flipped some switches on the console, causing a warm hum to register within the Wolfen's bowels.
"Next week, ten thirty at night," Fox spoke, before the Arwing suddenly took a deep barrel-roll to the left, dodging the plasma shot that darted across the stars.
Now he'd been given a specific time? Oh, how much Wolf O'Donnell had enjoyed that.
Wolf's daydreams were shattered hastily as a rough hand gripped his jacket and tossed him in the general direction of Fox's bed. The mercenary's aim was off by just a bit as the missile collided with the bed frame and crashed to the floor.
He barely had time to register the stars dancing in his vision before he was yanked - hard - onto the bed itself and Fox had glomped him.
"Oof!" he wheezed at the landing.
Fox ignored that and pressed his hungry lips to the other's. His desire was peaking hire than usual at night. Wolf found himself grateful for easy-access silk bottoms with no cloth shields underneath.
(Dirty dirty so dirty)
The groaning got louder, the sensual clawing became more vicious, and the already tortured springs protested desperately.
"Unhf… mrrmmm… natch… peaches… so many peaches… makes me sleepy…" Falco murmured, while he was, in fact, asleep.
A particularly loud growl startled him straight awake. Too bad his security cans had no such effect on his ridiculous sleepwalking.
"Hello?" the bird called quietly as he tore of his night mask. "Damn it, what the hell is that noise?"
He was answered by a repeat of the disturbing noise, only louder and somehow more frenzied. Quietly, he slid out from his bed sheets and fished around on the ground in the dark until he found his favourite bathrobe.
Slipping the garment on, he opened his door, startling a similarly clothed Slippy, who looked petrified.
"Can you hear those noises?!" the frog whined. "It's so scary around here at night."
"They're coming from Fox's room," Peppy murmured. The exhausted hare was dangling a source of light in his left paw.
"Why do you have a medieval lantern?" Falco asked curiously.
"My flashlight's broken. And you bastards all laughed when I paid two hundred bucks for this thing on eScam."
With a shrug, the two pilots allowed the retiree to lead them through the corridors of the Great Fox.
"Mrf," Falco yawned. "Fox is probably just having a nightmare or something. Can we just go back to bed?"
Slippy fixed him with a strange look. "You - of all people - aren't even slightly curious as to what's going on in there?"
"Not particularly."
Desperate growls rushed through the thick material of Fox's locked door.
"Huh, Fox makes two very distinct growling noises when he sleeps," Peppy muttered, suspicion tainting his normally calm voice. "It almost sounds as if he's getting his bone on or something."
Just as Slippy opened his mouth to question the hare's use of modern slang, Falco's eyes suddenly slanted with rage and he rushed the door, pounding viciously.
"Fox, open up!"
"Fox, open up!"
Falco.
In the midst of Wolf's ministrations, both animals froze. How the hell had their noises woken him up when the stupid cans did nothing?
"Damn it!" Fox whispered frantically. "Wolf, under the bed!"
"What a stupid idea!" Wolf hissed, carefully hoisting the vulpine off of his sweaty body. "Could you think of a stupider place for me to hide!"
"Unless you have a better idea, get the fuck under the bed!"
Unfortunately, Wolf didn't have a better idea, so he scrambled quickly under his lover's bed, which had surprisingly high posts.
Wolf turned an ear to the world above and relaxed as he could feel Fox's weight shit from the bed. He watched him pick up his silks from the floor and slid them over his powerful legs. Wolf resisted the urge to whine as that lovely behind was covered.
He had to remind himself of the predicament he was in. Which would they kill him for first: screwing Fox, or being an enemy onboard their ship? It could go either way.
The voice of the lovely Fox drifted to his tattered ears. The vulpine had put on his best tired voice, asking. "What's up guys?" he added a convincing yawn. "It's one in the morning."
"We were going to ask you that," Wolf heard the Great Fox mechanic reply. "You're making scary noises."
(Sexy noises)
His eye twitched slightly as he saw the clawed feet of an angry Falco step into the room. "Is there somebody in here, Fox?"
"I was sleeping. We're over a hundred thousand feet in the air. Who could be in here?"
He's going to look under here, Wolf thought in a panic. There's no one else anybody could hide in here.
As expected, Falco wasn't convinced. Wolf knew the kneel was coming before it did. Thinking on his feet, he spread his arms and attached himself to the underside of Fox's bed, Matilda style.
The suspicious, red-rimmed eye of an avian darted viciously under the bed. Wolf heard Fox suck in a nervous breath. When Falco said nothing, the vulpine spoke:
"See, Falco? Nobody here. What's going on?"
"What were all of those noises?" Peppy crooned.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"We could hear them!"
"Growling, scratching, hissing… We thought you were having an orgy in here."
"Shut up."
"You're all being ridiculous."
"Explain!"
"I'm trying to play Fire Emblem!"
"Calm down, now."
All of the voices fell silent, impatiently awaiting an answer.
"Uh… bad dream?" Fox offered.
(Nice save)
"Well, could you try to be less noisy when you are dreaming?" Peppy said hotly. "We want sleep!"
"Sure," the vulpine replied, as if he could control himself in his sleep. As if he was even asleep.
Wolf's arms we're being to stiffen. He needed down from the bed frame, but that would draw too much attention to them. He silently thanked the higher powers that he didn't believe in as the footsteps began, loud and taking a steady decrescendo down the hall. The lupine was ready to let himself down, but stiffened instantly when someone spoke. Falco, again.
"Do you need someone to stay the night?"
"No, no, no… no… no! Thanks though!" Fox said brightly. "I'm sure I'll be fine, really."
"Well…" The avian didn't seem convinced.
There was no sound for a heart-stopping moment, followed by a gasp from Fox.
"I wanted to wait, but now seemed the right time," Falco said quietly. "Think about it." With that, he tore of down the hall, talons scraping against the ground.
Why was he running? Wolf didn't know, but he couldn't betray the groan that flew out as he let himself drop to the floor.
As he crawled out from under, he was met with Fox's condescending glare. What did that look even mean? His deep blue eyes were narrowed in an almost...hateful manner.
(What did I do)
"You have to go," Fox told him flatly.
Needless to say, the Star Wolf leader was slightly confused. "What? Why?"
Fox wore a mask of stone, a far cry from the expression of desire he was exhibiting not long ago. "You saw that. We almost got caught. I'm not taking the chance. Leave."
"Hey, it's okay," Wolf rose to his feet and reached out to his lover. "It's alright. We dodged the bullet." Wolf clutched the orange arm and tried to pull the younger man close.
"No!" Fox suddenly shouted, ripping himself from his grasp.
Now he was really confused, and was beginning to get pissed off. "Why are you being like this all of sudden. If you're trying to end it, just say so."
"I'm not trying to end anything," Fox said, failing to sound reassuring. "I just need you to go now."
Wolf was at lost for words. It made sense to feel enraged, but he felt no such rage. He merely bent over to pick up his clothes and struggled to pull them on under the scrunity of Fox's stone mask.
"Whatever," he mumbled as he stepped out into the hallway. After a quick scan of either end, he decided it would be unwise to head in the direction of the others' bedrooms, so he stole off down the opposite way. Several turns and two staircases would take him to the Wolfen.
Fox stood stock-still until he couldn't hear the footsteps anymore.
(My life is walking away)
His hand was indented and it felt like his tightly enclosed fingers were bleeding.
Wolf flicked switches and pulled knobs to start up his brand new "Wolfen II". Even with the new cruiser, the actions were memorized. Pull this, turn that, push such and such. His eye wasn't even on the console. Everything looked blurry. Wolf wasn't mad. He was upset. Very, very upset. Fox had never just kicked him out like that. He thought he could sense mortification behind Fox's stone glare, but he'd never been that great at reading people.
The lupine found himself wishing that all of the galaxy's best bars were open this early in the morning. Weekday last call ended at midnight.
Oh well, the mini-fridge next to his bed was always open, and 'last call' was not a part of the bartender's dictionary.
At least Fox remembered to open the bay doors for me. Heh, probably couldn't have been any more excited to open those fuckers up.
The Wolfen II rushed away from the Great Fox, undetected. The ship's awesome camoflauge system did its job well, not that anybody besides Fox was awake to see it.
He became aware of moisture running down the hand that clenched the control mechanism.
Oh dear fuck, Wolf thought. I've never done this before.
He was crying.