Disclaimer: Ōban Star-Racers and all related characters and materials are property of Disney and Sav! The World Productions.

Forward
By: Nanaki BH

"They're all idiots, aren't they?"

"Idiots," I replied.

It was similar to many other occasions. Things like this happened all the time. They were away. We were left to repair the Whizzing Arrow. Things got boring. Things happened after that. Certain... uncomfortable things. At least... At least it was uncomfortable the first time.

There would be some silence and we would stand a shoulder's breadth apart from each other, both of us intently surveying the information on the monitors in front of us. It was nothing special; the same kind of thing we'd be doing when the others were there, too. Except, when they were gone, Stan allowed himself to have ideas; ideas that involved me doing things I had never dreamed of doing.

That first time, back in Miguel's workshop, he touched my shoulder. That was his first advance. A subtle one. His touch was light, gentle even. It shocked me so bad that I promptly dropped the wrench I was holding and whirled to face him. He had on a dumb grin and I wasn't sure what it meant. All I knew was that his touch was far from innocent. But Stan, being my best friend, wasn't very threatening. I was confident enough that I knew what he was like, that he wouldn't try something so ridiculous.

But maybe it was my fault. I was the one getting those ideas, anyway. Maybe I acted too naïvely...

I nervously had asked him what was on his mind and without saying a word, he swooped down and pressed his lips against mine. I was beyond surprised. I remember shaking, being so scared. He took my shoulders in his rough, grease-covered, gloved hands and held me still. He wasn't intrusive or demanding; just gentle and considerate. I remember the way his hands wandered from there after he was sure I had loosened up. The lower they got, the more uncomfortable I became so I pushed him away.

And it took him a few more tries before he ever got me to do anything he wanted.

"Sheesh, you're just like a girl," I remember him saying. I hated admitting that he was right.

That day in pit, things felt different. Lately, we'd become so consumed in the races. Don Wei refused to tell us more about the Ultimate Prize but we knew there was much more to it than he was letting on. Whatever it was, our safety and the safety of many others hinged on Eva and Jordan winning the races.

"They never give us time to ourselves anymore, do they?"

"They don't," I replied.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted that time. He wanted to take whatever time he could get to get his hands on me.

My fists curled on the keyboard and I tilted my head down, staring blankly at the keys. My legs and shoulders hurt from standing for so long. I was more in charge of the computing aspects of repair while Stan bothered himself with the physical work. At least he got a good workout. I was left feeling stiff and sore most of the time.

The rough touch of leather fingers working circles at the base of my neck was inevitable but welcomed. I sighed, not resisting for once as he kneaded and tended to the knots in my muscles. I tilted my head to the side, nudging against his fingers to urge him in the right direction. I could feel his hot breath at the back of my neck and I started just slightly, my own breath hitching. I couldn't identify what it was about him exactly but something made me give in.

I trusted him, I guess.

He kissed the highest vertebrae he could find, nipping at the skin there lightly. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. His tongue moved in languid, lapping motions, his hands caressing my sides all the while. I gasped and Stan took it as a sign to go even farther. His hands slowly traveled lower and came to rest at my hips. It was like his way of asking me for permission to keep going. I glanced over my shoulder but just for a split second. I felt bad about giving in like that. I didn't want to admit that I enjoyed what he could do so much.

I expected him to undo my pants, to slide his palms beneath my overalls... to do something. Instead I got nothing. For a moment I stood there and wondered if something had happened until he grabbed my left arm and turned me around to face him.

He looked at me. Really looked at me. I felt myself going weak under his gaze.

He took off his gloves and tossed them to the floor, then removed each strap of his overalls at a painfully slow pace, each one sliding down his arms in a way that made my knees want to give. My heart was pounding fast; a harsh thump, thump, thump in against its cage. I was already shaking in need and nervousness.

It was something I couldn't avoid. Whenever he wanted me, I ended up in such a fragile state. I hated it. I felt so vulnerable.

"We don't have to keep doing this if you don't like doing it, you know," he said.

I swallowed hard and stared at him in disbelief. He... didn't think I liked having sex with him? Well... there was the shaking, after all. Maybe that had been giving him the wrong impression. Though truth be told, I did feel somewhat nervous each time. I always chalked it up to my practically non-existent confidence.

"N-no," I answered, waving my hands dismissively. "I like it. Really. Just... I get a little..." I looked away, my eyes hidden beneath thick shadows. "I get nervous."

"Nervous, huh? Shit, you could have fooled me. You act like I'm raping you."

I think my jaw dropped then. I'd never heard him be so blatantly blatant before.

He reached for his overall straps and began to tentatively pull them up. "I'd rather not put you through that again. I love you, you know. I don't like hurting you."

If it were possible, my jaw dropped farther. "Say that again," I said, my heart giving a hopeful leap.

"I don't like hurting you?"

"Before that."

"I love you... you know?"

I laughed, stepping closer to him. I leaned against his chest and landed a weak punch to his bare chest. "That," I breathed against his chest. For so long... I had thought about it and I guess that at some point I just assumed it was impossible. Stan and I were close, like soul mates. I didn't let myself consider the two of us lovers because I knew I would only eventually hurt myself by doing so. Stan wasn't much of a jerk but he sure wasn't romantic either. "You've never told me that before."

He put a hand at the back of my head and eased my neck back so he could look down at me. I had never seen his eyes so sad and soulful, clouded by storms of emotion. It was weird and a little scary. It took him a second, but he smiled and gave a small exhalation of breath that could've been a laugh. "I've never told you that I love you?" That time, he did laugh.

I wasn't shaking anymore. Not one bit.

Not even when he kissed me. My heart lifted.

He grew more insistent, though, his tongue begging entrance to my mouth. I moaned slightly and allowed him to explore, stroking his tongue with my own, our breath hot and moist between our lips.

"We can't do this here," he panted, eyes closed. He broke away from me and picked up his gloves from the floor. I would've questioned him but he looked sure. He had no problem all those other times, taking me on the hanger floor. But where did he intend to take me...?

"Where are we going to go then?" I asked. "To your room?"

Stan nodded and took my hand in his. His room... I felt honored, actually. It wasn't as though we'd never slept together in his room, though. We'd done it numerous times before. It was always desperate and frantic, though, and both of us would end up passing out afterwards from exhaustion. Further support that he was in no way romantic.

He guided me, hand in his, up the stairs to his room. Like a proper gentleman, he cordially ushered me in first and closed the door behind us. "No interruptions," he promised, putting his index finger to his lips in the "hush" motion. "Lie down," he told me and I did as I was instructed, lying down on his bed, my head resting on his pillow.

At last, he removed the rest of his clothing; stripping himself of the overalls and threw his visor and his gloves on top of them. Suddenly, I was feeling a lot less comforted. It incomprehensible for me to think that I could be perfectly fine with submitting to him one second, then entirely hesitant the next. He just wasn't romantic.

No. That's not what it was.

"Really," he muttered, sitting beside me on the bed. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll be gentle. And I'll go slow. And... I don't know, I'll hold you or something if that's what you want."

Stan must've noticed the way my brow was furrowing before I even did. I instantly tried to straighten it but failed. He pushed himself up onto his palms and straddled me, one hand on either side of my head. He pressed his lips against mine again and that time, he had my eyebrow furrowing for a completely different reason. I moaned into his mouth and bucked my hips up. I could feel how hard he was already, just with what little we'd done. Knowing him, he was probably already hard long before that when we were still with the Arrow. The thought made me grin.

He easily coaxed me into letting him undress me. I raised my hips when he requested and let him slide it all off at last, leaving me bare beneath his gaze. I looked away but he turned my face forward again so he could look me directly in the eyes. I spread my legs and he sat between them. One warm palm was placed to my stomach before he looked up as he remembered what he had been forgetting.

"Right," he sighed.

"What is it?" I wondered aloud.

He hopped wordlessly from the bed and I watch him retrieve a tube of lubricant from the nearby dresser. Admittedly, I was thankful he'd been considerate enough to remember that before continuing. That would have been painful to say the least. He's more than a little thick and has no problem filling me entirely. I've woken up more than once with a sore ass.

When he got back he resumed his previous position, settling himself down between my spread legs. I closed my eyes and let him take it from there, feeling one cool finger slide inside my entrance. It bent and twisted as he prepared me, drawing small whimpers from my throat. Then he added another to stretch me, scissoring his fingers apart, curling them a few times to send a shiver of unexpected pleasure down my spine.

My toes curled and uncurled and I could only imagine the sort of embarrassing expression that must have been on my face. He'd commented on it a few other times; said I looked adorable or something. That just made it even worse for me. In a way, I was still flattered by it.

Eventually, he removed his searching fingers and sat back, admiring me. I cracked open an eye to look at him and felt as though I could drown in the deep ember of his smoldering gaze. He reached forward briefly and removed my glasses, to my surprise. They were placed nearby on the nightstand and forgotten as he leaned down again to deliver another searing kiss. He moaned, intentionally, just to send the reverberations of it through me.

I squirmed, feeling my then hard erection brushing against my bare stomach. He began to travel lower and lower, pressing kisses to my chest, my stomach, taking a brief moment to lick and nibble at my nipples. It felt fantastic, his breath hot and wet against my chest. I felt so lightheaded. I would've probably been just fine like that, allowing him to do whatever he pleased with me. He sat back once again and grinned in that sly way that made me believe he was about to do something terribly devious. I was surprised a little at the loss of contact but I wasn't disappointed.

He gave himself a quick coat of lube and tossed it also into the pile that had formed near the foot of the bed. Tenderly, he lifted my bent knees, finding himself a place between my legs. He smiled down at me and for once, I didn't think it was creepy. Or perverted. Or awkward. It was a genuinely kind, soul-warming sort of smile. His lips found mine and I could feel my nostrils flaring. I just kept looking at him, finding it odd how easily I was trusting that smile.

He loved me.

He positioned himself and with his other, free hand, he held my smaller hand within his. I inhaled sharply when I felt him begin to push in. Stan took it slower than he did other times, taking his time instead of rushing. The others would probably be back soon but he didn't seem concerned. It was like he was looking out for me. I smiled against his mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down more. That was when he finally let himself slip in completely. I yelped, my upper body going stiff instantly.

A few kisses to the side of my neck were enough to loosen me up. Each short thrust became slowly easier to take. Sex wasn't something I'd gotten immediately used to and I was still finding it unpredictable. One short, shallow thrust. One slow, deep one. The unpredictability of it was what would keep me whimpering, muttering his name beneath my breath, gasping for him to get it on with. Stan found it hard to deny me anything. If I requested it, he would comply. His free hand traced a trail down my belly and reached its destination finally between my legs, each finger curling possessively around my length.

In time with his trusts, he stroked me. Each one was just as unpredictable as his thrusts, though. It was painful how good it felt. Only Stan, I knew; only Stan could possibly make me feel that good. It would be way too strange with anybody else.

And speaking of, I was feeling a lot more relaxed than I usually was and it took me a while to even realize it. I wasn't shaking. I wasn't acting like I was resisting like he had said earlier. I was just... relaxed; enjoying myself. I felt incredibly, inexplicably happy and relieved.

I loved Stan too.

"Koji," his whispered, voice thick with passion. "Koji, I'm going to... Hah..."

I could tell that he was close to climax but so was I.

I kissed his cheek, nuzzling my face against his sideburns. His breathing became unsteady and his supporting arm seemed ready to buckle. Quickly, to keep himself from collapsing, he wrapped his arms around my middle and came within me, my name upon his lips. I gripped my fingers in his hair and clamped my eyes tightly, finding release soon after him. We remained like that for a while longer, our bodies spent and weak, but both of us feeling satiated and complete.

"I love you so much," I whispered into his ear. With my cheek still pressed against his, I could feel his smile. I could feel his love.

He slipped away from me and rolled over beside me onto his side. "Look at us," he laughed, surveying the work we'd done, the mess we'd made. "Aren't we a pair?"

"We certainly are," I replied.

I traced my fingers along his sideburns and edged closer and closed our lips in a silent affirmation of love.

Author's Notes: I'm just going to go let my head slam into my desk now, 'kay thanks. It took me forever to finish that. Hopefully it's decent. The pairing isn't very common so I decided the two of them needed some serious lovin'. I hope you enjoyed reading! Feedback's always appreciated!