Warning: I do not own these characters, they belong to M. Palumbo. She can be found on DeviantArt under the moniker HamletMachine, or at her website: StarFighterComic dot com

"Well? What do you two have to say for yourselves?" asked a stern voice from behind the
large desk before which I stood with my partner in crime beside me, Cain.
He, of course, had a fairly placid expression masking his face, though I knew the torrent a
that lay just underneath.
While I on the other hand was a barely restrained wreck. But that's easy to understand,
being grilled by one's Commanders is never a pleasant experience.
"He deserved it," spat Cain in a surprisingly censored vocabulary.
Holding a hand up to silence the dark haired male at my side from making things worse than
they already were, I cleared my throat and spoke for the both of us.

I addressed both Commanders in a clipped tone, keeping everything professional to the
extreme. I was rigid with tension and nerves but my voice was, thankfully, somewhat fluid.
My story told of how we'd ended up in this mess, in this office.
It'd all happened that morning, after an early mission.
For just a moment I hung back to congratulate a fellow navigator on his performance, when
we heard a commotion up ahead.
We turned the corner to find a couple of fighters locked in ... well in a fight.
One of them was mine. Cain had his opponent on the run. By then a crowd was beginning to
grow, watching.

"Wait," interrupted the fairer of the two Commanders, in a polite yet forceful way. "What
started the fight?"
I glanced over at the male beside me, hoping he'd take this one for me.
"Insulted me," was his simple answer. If I wasn't so nervous, I would have laughed.
The truth: the guy had made a dirty remark about myself, which I only found out later.
Much later.
Running on zero sleep and buzzed from gunning down enemy ships, Cain was a ticking time
bomb who'd found the spark for his fuse.

I finished up quickly, telling how I'd stepped in to stop the fight only to catch a stray punch.
Cain, seeing me stumble, flew into a rage.
I have hardly seen anything more frightening than my counterpart in that moment, though I
thoughtfully left that part out of my narration.
It took just single person to pull me from the fray, even if I was only trying to sooth the
beast Cain had become.
It took four of them to subdue Cain.

What I did not tell our Commanders was what happened post fight.
Our injuries were deemed minor and we were sent to our room to cool off while someone
went to see about our punishment.
Once inside the dim lit bedroom, I turned to tell Cain that we'd better talk about what had
happened, and found he was right behind me. There was an unmistakable look on his face,
one I could see even through the shadows. He was ready for something entirely different.
The adrenaline from the fight was still pulsing through his veins, desperate for a new outlet.
Lucky me.
Rough hands were suddenly constricting my arms, drawing me into that firm chest I was
growing an affinity for.
There was a pointed look, darting behind those steel cold eyes of his, that dared me to say
I didn't want this too.
And suddenly we were kissing. His greedy mouth covered mine with such force that I was
rocked backwards.

I didn't say a word.

So many differing feelings poured from my partner during that harsh press of lips and delving
of tongues. Cain's burning rage scorched my skin, his animalistic desire to protect what was
his nearly drowned me and I had trouble separating the lust from the pure need to inflict
damage.

As our height distance became painfully evident, I was thrust into the bathroom where Cain
hoisted me onto the edge of the counter. Without thinking, I parted my legs to bring him
closer. One of his hands was buried behind my head, gripping my hair to gain better leverage
at my exposed neck. I completely forgot about objecting to him biting me, anything felt
brutally good at this point.
His other hand was tearing hungrily at my clothes, blindly seeking the quickest way to rid me
of them.
"Fuck it," he snarled into the skin of my throat, which moaned in response.
That ridge in his pants found my own.
Wriggling forward for more contact, we fell into an erratic rhythm and before I knew it, my
mind felt like it was hurtling through space.
As I returned to myself, Cain was still struggling for his own release, a string of broken
swear words issuing from his parted lips.
I rested my head on his shoulder while reaching between us, stroking him.
The movement was soft and uncertain, nothing more than a brush of fingertips across
strained material.
Shy is an understatement about how I felt toward touching my counterpart in such an
intimate way.
Apparently I wasn't the only one surprised by my courage because Cain followed after me
within seconds.
I imagined his eyes to be wide with the shock when he tumbled into the abyss, a ragged
howl echoing against the slick walls around us.

I had to give my self a mental shake before I could return to the present, to once again
remember where I was and why.
I held my breath, tonging at the scar on my lip absently. It was a nervous habit I'd picked
up recently.
The verdict was in our favor and we recieved only a warning and a day of suspension.
Releasing the air from my lungs in relief, I began to thank the Commanders adamantly until
we were dismissed.
Even though Cain flashed his teeth in a predatory frown, I knew he was just as happy as I
was at the turn of events.

We left quickly. Celebration was in order.

Behind the doors we'd only just closed, a soft chuckled issued from one of our Commanders.
He pushed his glasses further up his nose and glanced at the scowling dark man beside him.
"Remind you of anyone?" He asked, blond hair framing his knowing smile.
"Oh shut up. And stop your grinning..." Bering snapped back.