Hello. I have been away from fanfiction for a long time, but now I make my triumphant (?) return!
Pairing: Dark Ace x Aerrow
Warnings: Rated M to be safe. Contains lots of foe yay.
Chapters: I had planned for this to be a oneshot but it is highly likely that I will continue Catalyst, perhaps as a series of oneshots that fit together.
Aerrow swallowed thickly, watching the Talons swarm around the Condor. He hovered in the air away from the ship while the horde of skimmers buzzed around the small dots in the sky that marked his fellow Storm Hawks, bravely holding their own against the enemy. He was already sweating, having engaged two Cyclonians just moments before. There was a stirring of dread in the pit of his stomach, but it was mixed with another emotion, something like anticipation, and the two weighed like a rock inside of him.
Even when he was battling the enemy, leaping off his skimmer to attack them head-on, Aerrow couldn't help but comb the sky looking for that one particular craft, the dark blot against the cloudless blue that signaled the arrival of his mortal enemy, whom he despised down to his core.
The Dark Ace did not always make an appearance. Usually it was up to the lesser flunkies to weaken the Storm Hawks before the Talons would make any drastic movements and employ their best fighters. He was much more likely to encounter Ravess or Snipe. But there was always that chance, that leap of adrenaline through his veins at the thought of this finally being the day that his struggle with Dark Ace met its end.
His energy blades clashed with the crude metal instrument of the Cyclonian he was fighting, and with a grunt he pushed the other away, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of their balance, forcing them off of their craft. The scream faded away as the Cyclonian fell through the cloudy layer of mist below them, and seconds later the parachute deployed, floating softly into the distance.
When Aerrow's gaze lifted once more, he let out a gasp, fists instantly clenching: the man he loathed, the Dark Ace, had indeed arrived, looking haughtily indifferent on his skimmer as he soared into the thick of the battle, seemingly taking no notice of Aerrow, who clamored onto his own skimmer and kicked it into motion, rocketing towards his rival. His green eyes were narrowed with determination and apprehension.
He took Dark Ace by surprise, blind siding him as the Talon aimed for Finn's craft, the one he had seen first. The man suffered only short bewilderment and immediately took off after Aerrow, the leader of the Storm Hawks. Even Master Cyclonus seemed to agree that if they could simply take out the leader the rest of the team would fall. In addition, Aerrow seemed particularly set on destroying Dark Ace, which the latter figured was because of his betrayal to the boy's father. Aerrow had zeroed in on him, just as he had focused on Aerrow. It seemed like destiny.
Destiny was, in fact, thick in the air as the two screeched to a halt in their skimmers, glaring at one another as if daring each other to make the first move. Dark Ace grinned despicably, and Aerrow sneered and unconsciously rose to the challenge he wasn't even aware had been made. Dark Ace had to laugh at this impulsiveness; Aerrow displayed on multiple occasions a love getting himself into stupid and unnecessary situations. But it was a rare thing, one of Aerrow's crazy ideas being justified. At least, that's what Dark Ace thought. In reality Aerrow's nature was incredibly useful in many situations, even if it did invite more than typical amounts of trouble upon the Storm Hawks.
"What are you waiting for, Aerrow?" Dark Ace taunted, raising a beckoning hand. "Surely you don't want to look at me all day."
"I hope that after today I never have to look at you again!" the Sky Knight spat, revving his skimmer. He desperately wanted to launch himself headfirst at the Dark Ace, to end it once and for all, but he knew that the conditions were dangerous. He and Dark Ace were evenly matched...mostly. Even Aerrow wasn't headstrong enough to think that he was the better fighter of the two in any situation. In fact, it seemed that the person who emerged victorious did so more often by luck or circumstance than anything else, so equal in fighting ability were they.
To Aerrow's surprise it was the Dark Ace who moved first, suddenly looming in on him at an alarmingly fast rate, threatening to crash into him. Aerrow's nerves were on fire, screaming at him to move the skimmer out of the way, but he knew (inexplicably but correctly) that this was only a game of chicken to Dark Ace, and the enemy did swerve sharply just seconds before the crash, looping around Aerrow and throwing him off guard for a brief time. But Aerrow recovered quickly and went after him, their roles reversed.
There was a small terra a ways down that was so rocky and minute that it was uninhabited. It was really only a shard of land, and it seemed to be this terra that Dark Ace was headed for, eager to get out of the throes of the main fight and into a place where he and Aerrow could duke it out uninterrupted. Dark Ace had spent a great deal of time (more time than he wished to admit) thinking about a strategy for dealing with Aerrow. Normally a boy of Aerrow's age would be no problem for him, but there was something different about the redheaded nuisance. For one, he was a phenomenal fighter. His agility and calculating abilities were far beyond his years. But Dark Ace realized that in hand to hand combat, in any fight that rested entirely upon strength, he was the better. And he knew that if he could get them on solid ground where skimmers and speed and background events meant nothing, his victory would be assured.
Aerrow had fallen for his feint, and he did not need to look over his shoulder to know that the young boy was following him, trying to gain on him before he could land. Unfortunately for Aerrow, Dark Ace was faster, and he flew directly to the surface, barely taking the time to properly land and immediately leaping from his skimmer. Aerrow followed suit, rolling to the ground as his skimmer roughly made contact. His energy blades were already flaring, just as Ace's single blade was.
"I never imagined you would be such a coward!" Aerrow yelled. The two were poised for combat, circling warily around the other. On the ground Aerrow had a clearer look at his opponent, the Dark Ace's piercing deep red eyes watching him like a hawk. There was lightning riveting through Aerrow's veins, urging him onwards towards the one enemy that had always driven him crazy.
"Coward?" scoffed the Talon. "I think not. You have caused a great deal of strife for the Cyclonian Empire. Most of our lesser men dread the thought of facing your squadron. It's pathetic." He cracked his neck, never breaking his predatory eye contact with the young Sky Knight. "But that's enough talking, I think." He'd barely finished his sentence before he was shooting towards Aerrow, blazing sword aimed straight at his neck. Aerrow leapt backwards just in time, flipping over just once and landing on his feet. He was off of them again the very next second, however, flying back at the Dark Ace with his teeth grit. Dark Ace parried his blow, and their weapons clashed multiple times, almost faster than the eye could see, and they were panting hard, neither gaining any significant ground on the other.
Aerrow was so slender, so aerodynamic, that Dark Ace grudgingly appreciated it as the boy managed to slip out of his grasp over and over. But his movements had become predicable to the Dark Ace, who had studied his style, and the Talon grabbed hold of Aerrow's wrist just as the latter was about to wriggle away again, and using all of his momentum flung the boy straight into Aerrow's skimmer, where his body hit the metal with a dull, painful thud.
Aerrow's body rang with pain and his vision was double as he watched Dark Ace swagger towards him. He tried to recover, but he wasn't fast enough; Dark Ace's hand shot out and clenched around Aerrow's neck, slamming him back into the skimmer. He leaned over Aerrow with a sinister grin, delighting in the shock and panic in those green eyes. But Aerrow wasn't done yet. Even though he was short for air he struggled, managing to pry the others' fingers from his neck. He had dropped his blades when he struck the skimmer, but Dark Ace still held his, and Aerrow knew that he had to prevent the other from being able to hurt him with it. He held onto the Dark Ace's wrists, pushing him backwards, trying to gain some leverage.
Dark Ace fought to bring his sword to Aerrow's throat, but the Sky Knight was persistent, sensing that failure meant death.
Dark Ace realized, belatedly, that this hand to hand conflict had brought their bodies directly against the other, that the boy's legs were rubbing against his own, and that this contact brought a foreign rush of something hot into his blood that had nothing to do with hatred.
It might have, a little. Hatred certainly contributed to this stirring within him, and his eyes caught Aerrow's directly. What he saw in them startled him: much the same emotion, warring with Aerrow's hatred, yes, of the Talon who had slain more Sky Knights than any other.
Suddenly their minds were racing with memories of fights, the desperate want to see one another, to defeat one another, that unspoken something between them that Aerrow could never have described to his fellow Storm Hawks, that Dark Ace would never be able to justify to the Master.
He seized Aerrow by the neck once more, but this time his intent was not to choke. Aerrow's eyes flickered up to his once more, and the sight of the flushed, sweating face undid the Dark Ace completely and he crushed their lips together brutally.
He expected Aerrow to rebel, and that is exactly what he got, though not entirely the way he'd anticipated.
Aerrow groaned into the other's lips, pushing back, allowing Dark Ace to tease his lips open. He groaned again when the warm tongue slipped into his mouth, dragging against his sinfully. Aerrow had kissed girls before, gently, sweetly. This was nothing like that.
And it was infinitely better.
Dark Ace's hand dragged up into Aerrow's hair, fisting in the red strands possessively, tipping back the boy's head for better access. Aerrow's hands landed on Dark Ace's firm shoulders, which he found himself appreciatively digging his nails into. He couldn't believe it; Dark Ace, the Dark Ace, was kissing him. This was the Dark Ace's tongue in his mouth.
Dark Ace spread Aerrow's legs apart and wedged his own in between them, calling sharp focus to the fact that Aerrow was swollen and eager. Dark Ace was much the same, and their lips parted, a thin line of saliva appearing between them, and their noses brushed as they looked each other heatedly in the eye, and Dark Ace dragged his member against Aerrow's.
Aerrow moaned, eyes unable to focus once again. As the Dark Ace ground into him slowly Aerrow was moving right back. "I hate you so much," he hissed as the Dark Ace's other hand abruptly dropped his sword and instead slid down to cup Aerrow's backside, forcing the boy's hips against his. Their lips met again, and Aerrow suddenly felt a cool rush of air as Dark Ace tore open his shirt, slipping a hand inside and running up his smooth adolescent chest. The mouth followed soon after, starting at his pale neck with the sharp bite of his teeth moving down, and Aerrow's fingers tangled in Dark Ace's black hair, urging him to continue, to relieve this heat.
But all at once the contact was gone and Aerrow let out an involuntary whimper of protest...just before he was flung to the ground.
A cloud of dust went up around him and the Dark Ace tackled him once more. But this time Aerrow wasn't going to have that. He fought back, pushing the other's arms away while at the same time reflexively looping his legs around Dark Ace's waist, bringing them into an even more glorious grind. His body was running on autopilot, instincts giving in to all the little temptations: starting into Dark Ace's eyes as they rutted against each other; letting out a moan at the friction; bringing their lips together once more.
From the beginning, before Dark Ace had even known Aerrow's name, it had only been about possession. Aerrow felt responsible for defeating Dark Ace. He would never admit it, but doing so was more important to him than facing Master Cyclonus. He did not like his team to fight Dark Ace. Aerrow wanted the fight and the defeat to be all his, just as Dark Ace did. Dark Ace was ready to shrug him off as a child pretending to be a Sky Knight, but as their encounters grew and Dark Ace's perfect record was marred, he had to take interest in Aerrow...and more than interest, it became Aerrow occupying his thoughts more often than not. If anyone else killed Aerrow, Dark Ace would be disappointed.
Their blind pursuit of each other had become a dangerous obsession.
He could end the boy right here and now, as Aerrow was flushed and distracted, but his lewd pants and the exquisite way his lips parted so willingly and his lithe teenage body writhing underneath him...
Aerrow, perhaps sensing that Dark Ace's thoughts were wandering, took the opportunity to flip their positions. But Dark Ace recovered quickly, and the two rolled on the ground, a tangle of hot limbs and lips meeting in the most improbable of intervals. Aerrow's nails tore his skin but Dark Ace's vicious teeth made bruises well up on the boy's pale neck.
Aerrow felt that the heat and friction were going to drive him mad—it wasn't nearly enough, not for the release he began to crave, but he had enough sense about him to remember who would be granting him that release. He froze, eyes locked in Dark Ace's red gaze.
"What's the matter, Sky Knight? Having regrets?"
Am I having regrets? Aerrow pondered, heart racing. He was underneath Dark Ace again, arms slung haphazardly around the other's body.
He was about to answer when a massive explosion shook his mind out of its daze and he rolled his head back, scanning the sky.
The Talons were retreating. The Storm Hawks had put up enough of a fight to force them back, and the number of Talon ranks had been significantly lessened. Trails of smoke followed the flights of the damaged craft as they sped back towards Cyclonia.
"That's my cue," Dark Ace's deep voice rumbled in Aerrow's ear. The Talon took Aerrow's ear between his teeth just briefly, enough to tease a gasp from him, and before Aerrow knew it Dark Ace was gone, leaping onto his fighter and revving the motor.
All Aerrow could do was prop himself on his elbows and watch Dark Ace fly away as his heart hammered in his chest and his lips were still swollen from their rough kisses. His hair was tussled, shirt ripped, and he was still hard. "What did I just do?"
When the Storm Hawks reunited, they were happy to see that Aerrow was alright. He explained that he and Dark Ace had had a duel, and that eventually the Dark Ace fled; both of these points were true, but Aerrow still felt like he had betrayed his team. He felt dirty, like a liar and a back-stabber, and he felt dizzy with the urge to confess his misdeeds to one of his friends. But he could not bring himself to do so. If any of the others noticed their leader acting strangely, they said nothing.
Later in the evening, when the Condor was drifting lazily in the sky and the Storm Hawks had gone to bed, Aerrow lay awake, staring at his ceiling. In his mind he turned their meeting over and over, and even as he finally fell into a fitful sleep he was haunted by thoughts of his next encounter with his greatest enemy, the Dark Ace.