Smoulder looked at his team. They were they best of the best all the way, aside from one clone. CM-59-675; the medic, Pulse. In his opinion, that waste of perfect DNA should be back on Kamino with 99. Worthless bone-bag that he was. Couldn't even shoot the DC-15A he carried around with him.
The commander shook his head., it wasn't his call in the slightest to bring the pathetic loser along. The jedi said he'd be of use on this mission. Smoulder didn't think so. What use was a clone that couldn't shoot? Maybe he was an excellent medic he didn't know, not that it mattered. Even a medic could shoot.
"Right, you were all at the briefing. At dawn, we advance on the Sepratists and liberate this system!" Smoulder encouraged, earning him a chorus of agreement from all but the medic. This caused the seasoned commander to clench his jaw. The younger clone was seriously pissing him off. How can can you not be excited for what you're bred to do? Even the medic's armor showed signs of action. Notably the carbon scoring on the left side of his chest plate.
"You're dismissed." Smoulder growled turning to leave. Pulling out a cantine and taking a swig of it.
The troops disbanded and headed to their tents. Pulse being the slowest. With his head lowered the trudged into his tent which also served as the medical center. Often he felt like he should be dead, or back on Kamino, what use was he? Sure he could patch up his brothers better than most clone medics could, but aside from that he was utterly useless.
But he wasn't always useless. There was a time that he could shoot, and often hit the mark better than the rest of his squad. The days when his brothers knew him as, Snipe. One of the best sharp shooters in the Grand aArmy of the Republic. But that was before his accedent. One that cost him his nerve, spirit, squad, and almost claimed his life. He never shot his blaster after he was released from the critical ward.
When he thought the others had all gone, Pulse removed his helmet and placed on the crate beside his cot. Going through his pack he found a large, orange, pill bottle from which he poured two red pills into his palm. Popping them into his mouth and chasing them down with water, Pulse sat on his cot with a sigh. Muttering something about the before days, he laid down on his side. His thoughts wandered to his current tank of a commander; Smoulder, Ct-58-666. How his broad shoulders looked, the ribbon of names that were tattooed onto his arms, the way his red brown eyes seemed to burn like his own once did; before he became useless.
His eyes slowly closed as the pills began to take effect, and Pulse drifted into a dreamless slumber. Dark and empty. Not a thought was found.
Smoulder took another swig from his cantine and discarded it with the others. Not even seven cantines of booze could keep the battered lone's mind off the useless runt that had come with his team. The others were asleep, but sleep would not find Smoulder. Constantly, he felt his mind wonder to his pathetic brother. How he rarely spoke out of turn, how he'd always look down. The gentle touch of his fingers that had once pulled a trigger. But none of those haunted him more than the Medic's eyes. Steel grey, not brown like the others. But grey. A cold, dead grey. No spirit was left in them. It made Smoulder want to comfort him. He seemed rather cute.
The commander shook his head violent, trying to free himself of his brother's face. But it was to now avail, the images came back. Each time more painful, and stranger than the first. Soon sound accompanied them, causing Smoulder to blush. He wondered how the runt could be that cute. He was completely drunk. One of his his habits that could get him court marshled.
Smoulder soon found himself walking to the medic's tent. The sounds of his sleeping brothers surrounded him. No one would know what he was doing, he barely knew himself.
He slipped inside to find the runt sound asleep, still wearing his armor. Clumbsily, Smoulder covered the younger clone's mouth to stiffle the gasp of surprise when he suddenly woke up. Calmly, the medic removed the commander's hand from his mouth.
"Something wrong, Sir?" Pulse asked grogily. No one ever came to just talk to him. It was only for a wound or an illness that anyone came to his tent.
"There is something wrong." the commander grinned, leaning closer to the medic's face.
Pulse smelt the smell of booz hanging on his commander's breath and sat up in shock. "You were drinking?" He whispered grasping Smoulder's arms.
"Just alittle bit." Smoulder answered, forcefully pushing the younger back down the cot, pinning his hands above his head. "better keep quiet, or the others will hear you." the drunken clone whispered seductively, un-doing the other's armor to show the the drab coloured undernieth.
"Wha-what are you doing?" Pulse gasped, scared, not knowing what to do.
"Just go with it." the older clone answered taking off his armor and under shirt. "Your fualt for being so damn cute." he said kissing the terrified medic's neck. Gently grazing the surface of the quivering clone's skin with his lips, surprised to find one side of his neck felt so diferent than the other. He realized that the skin on one side had horrid bur scars. Looking up slightly at his brother, he suddenly felt sorry for him. But he'd come to far to stop now. He carefully undid the medic's undershirt, continuing to nip at his neck occasionally.
Pulse shivered as the cold night air reached his exposed chest, and he let out a small whimper. With his hands above his head, he was helpless against the advances Smoulder made. When the commanders lips fell across a pale scar on the left side of his chest, Pulse gasped. The felling was foreign, strange, intoxicating; in fact he loved it. Not knowing how to tell his commander that he liked it, he moaned.
Smoulder paused and smiled at his brother. Through his drunken haze, he could tell that the younger clone was beginning to enjoy himself and let go of his hold on his brother's hands. "You wanting more?" he asked, his hand slithering down between Pulse's legs, feeling a deffinate growth there.
Pulse moaned once more, his arousal growing with each gentle touch. He embrased his brother; tembling. "B-be gentle with me...I'm not like the others..." he said beginning to shake.
"And if I'm not gentle?" Smoulder asked,licking Pulse's neck, even though he knew full well why the clone asked.
Pulse shook uncontrolably, his heart pounding in his head. "My heart might fibrilate." he said between pants.
"Oh? Why's that?" Smoulder pressed, teasing the medic more. He hoped that the younger wouldn't have one of his attacks. Heart attack or seizer, both were not desired. Smoulder cursed Grievous for that.
"Please, i-it might give out. Please be gentle." the younger clone begged, almost crying he was so scared.
"Shh. I'll be gentle, just relax." the commander whispered lying his brother back down "Don't ehuast yourself trying to keep up. I may need you in the morning, and on the feild tomorrow." Undressing the both of them "If I'm going to fast for you, just try to tell me."
Pulse nodded, bending his knees to lift his hips off the cot. When he felt the others growth he smiled "Do what you will."
Smoulder couldn't believe his luck when he felt Pulse's length against his own. The medic was actually inviting him inside. The commander slowly ground his hips into the youngers, earning a pleasureable sound from the excited clone.
The commander couldn't wait much longer, but he didn't want to hurt his medic. He sat back to prepare the younger clone. Licking his finger, he gently rubbed the entrance before sliding it inside.
Pulse gasped when he felt Smoulder's finger enter him, but found that he liked the feeling. Wanting more; he moaned rocking his hips to make the feeling reach deeper inside of him. It was like taking Neutron Pixie for the first time.
Smoulder; pleased with the reaction he got, slipped in another finger followed by another to carefully stretch the unclaimed territory. This earned him more pleasurable sound from his brother. He was somewhat shocked when his brather hand joind in preparing himself for something bigger.
When smoulder rubbed a certain spot, Pulse let out a muffled cry. Upon stroking it again, the younger clone's cries became louder and more pleasurable. Soon the bo was read to 'become a man'. "Pulse. Can I put it in?" he asked kissing his brother. His hard length gently nudging the medic's fingers.
Pulse smiled slightly, moving his hand out of the way to grasp his brother's well toned arms. "No turning back." he said before kissing the drunk commander full on the lips, tasting the booze that had clouded the commander's mind. His heart pounding in his ears.
While Pulse had distracted himself, Smoulder slowly entered the medic's being, causing him to scream. Smoulder felt so guilty foe making the younger one scream. He wasn't even half way inside.
"Are you alright?" he asked holding his brother's head tenderly.
Pulse moaned, the entrance hurt and his head spun. "I-it hurts." he whined, trying to hold back his tears.
"I'm sorry bro. Please bear with it, it'll feel better soon." Smoulder told him slowly and as gently as he dared, he forced himself the rest of the way inside. "Damn you're stil so tight..." the commander groaned. "Am-am I your first?"
Poulse nodded, cautiously fingering his length. It throbbed in his hand still hard dispite not being touched as often. "nn..Yes...you're my first." he managed to spit out.
"wel...Then I'll try to make this time memorable." he said slowly moving in and out of the clone, gently easing into a steady pace. Soon Pulse was moving in time with Smoulder. He felt something growing inside of him. It scared him.
"S-sir.." Pulse never finished before screaming out the commander's name as something else entered him even further and the feeling peaked.
Smoulder collapsed beside his brother panting. "Blast...you feeling ok?" he asked placing his fingers over the medic's collar bone.
"i'll be alright..." Pulse sighed. "I just wish you were sober when you did it."
"You wanted me sober?" Smoulder asked, alittle shocked the the younger one actually wanted him in the first place.
The younger clone nodded "But I'm glad it was you, Sir."
smoulder smiled at his brother, happy to know that he wasn't hated. "Blast, I can't stand how cute you are." he said kissing Pulse again. "You can call me Smoulder when we're alone, Pulse. Or do you perfer Snipe?"
Pulse blinked startled "Pulse. Snipe doesn't like you."
"Excuse me?" the commander asked.
"Er...Snipe doesn't like you?"
"What do you mean?"
Pulse sigh "He's a part of who I am in my mind. He doesn't like the fact that I'm telling you either."
"You mean... You have a split personality?" Smoulder exclaimed.
"Not so loud. I don't like people knowing that I'm not the origonal." Pulse begged "Please don't tell anyone."
"Okay, but why doesn't he like me?"
"He's straight."
Smoulder's face felt hot. He'd done the act with his brother, while drunk, found out the man he'd bed wasn't the origonal, and the fact that the origonal was straight.
"Aww, crud." he cursed, flopping into the pillow. This would not end well.