Sighing, Castor fell back into his chair gratefully and propped his cane up on the armrest. The club had been closed for the night and he'd just sent the DJs home- today had been especially exhausting for the entrepreneur. The lights in his quarters were dimmed to 25% percent and, for once, there wasn't any music blasting from the surround sound. "Sweet, sweet recharge..." He sighed, taking a sip of the fruity martini he'd fixed for himself earlier.

The unmistakeable sound of high-heels on the glass stairs up to his quarters made Castor frown. He'd even shooed Gem on home tonight; who was bothering him? "Hello?" He drawled, one hand on his cane.

The steps didn't falter once and Castor raised an eyebrow as the security on his door didn't do a thing to keep whoever it was out. "Honey, I'm home!" A deep voice echoed through his chambers, and Castor actually smiled.

The man that rounded the corner grinned at Castor, unzipping his orange-lined black tunic. "Miss me?" He drawled saucily.

"Yes~" he hauled himself out of the chair to practically skip over to the other man. They traded tunic and tonic, Castor carefully taking the coat to hang up in the closet. "You're home early." He wrapped his arms around his lover's waist as he threw back the martini.

"It didn't last as long as anyone thought it would." He twisted around to kiss Castor's forehead. "Easy capture, easy derezzing. CLU got what he wanted, so everything ended well."

Castor smiled sweetly, taking the glass from Zuse's still-gloved hands. "Good. That leaves us more time to make sweet love~"

Zuse grinned, slipping a glove off as Castor sauntered away to the bar with his glass and took the advantage to snap his pert behind with the leather. "If that's what you want, dearest."

Castor jumped, his pale cheeks tinting with color under his white powder makeup. "Not like that, though..." He yelped. The glass had almost slipped out of his hands, so he skittered over to the bar to get rid of it before he could be assaulted again. "When is your next mission?" He rinsed the glass and set it upside-down on the counter.

Zuse knelt down to unzip his boots and tossed them into a corner, losing about an inch of height- Castor was absolutely fine with that. "I'm on one now," Castor sighed exasperatedly and sprawled out backwards over the counter, "But, but, it's an idle assignment. When the opportunity presents itself, I strike. That's it. No spying or complicated assassinations. Just waiting."

Zuse took advantage of his lover's exaggeration to prowl across the room and pounce, latching onto his neck. The younger program keened at the teeth suddenly harassing his most sensitive spot. "Z-Zuse...!" He bowed his body up into the other man's sharp mouth.

Chuckling, Zuse pulled back and admired his work. Angry red marks marred the pale skin of Castor's throat, some of the creme white makeup having rubbed off to reveal an only slightly darker shade. "You're so precious, darling."

Castor snarled and clapped a hand over the whole thing, trying to hide his arousal by pushing Zuse off of him and curling up on a bar stool. "You come home after spending a dozen cycles in the field and the first thing you do is act an ass!" He snapped, his free hand brushing back loose hair. "Make yourself useful and bring me my cane."

Zuse's face fell, but he obediently brought Castor his cane from the chair. "War wounds acting up, darling?" He asked gently, stroking the thigh he knew had taken a well-aimed shot from Rinzler during the Purge. Castor flinched away, so he leaned down to kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry!?" Castor growled, snatching his cane from pliant hands. "You're the one wearing their colors!"

Zuse sighed and turned away, tapping the circle on his chest. The mechanism pulsed a wave of blue into the dark orange circuitry on his suit, the lighter color sweeping like a wave of water through the channels until they were all the same light blue as Castor's. "I can't change my circuits until I'm safely in here, sweetheart. You know that."

Castor cringed and touched the same spot on his thigh where Zuse's hand had been, trying to preserve the tingling. "I know... I guess I should be the one to apologize now..." He lowered himself down off the stool with the support of his cane and rested his chin on Zuse's shoulder. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, nuzzling the blue circuit running up the slightly taller program's strong neck.

"It's alright." Zuse's green eyes roved over the skyline, focusing anywhere but inside the tense apartment. "You've had a long night. Fridays are always hard on you."

Castor knew he'd ruined whatever they'd developed in the last few minutes, so he resigned himself to the bar again. Reaching over the counter for whatever happened to be there, he worked the cork out and took a swig straight from the bottle. The sting of the alcohol (subsequently like our vodka) shouldn't have bothered him, but his throat was tight with remorse, causing him to cough. He spluttered for a moment, leaning against the counter, before taking another drink. He could tell that his high tolerance was going to bother him tonight.

"Why don't you just go to bed, sweetheart? I'll shut down the bar for you." Zuse offered, taking the bottle from Castor as he walked past. "You don't need to be drinking this anyways. Get some rest."

Castor sighed and watched his feet instead of his lover. "I'm sorry, Zuse. Really." He said lowly.

The older program corked the bottle and locked it up in their personal stock cabinet "I know, love." He whispered, fishing out a bottle of sanitation liquid and a rag. He started wiping down the front counter only to be met with a hand on top of his and lips brushing his cheek.

"Thank you." Castor sighed and backed away. He stopped to watch Zuse hard at work washing away everything he'd been entertaining private guests with earlier before sauntering off to their bed room.

Once he was sure that Castor was gone, Zuse abandoned the cleaning in favor of his bag in the front hall. Anxiously opening it, he pulled the disc out with careful hands.

He'd manage to snatch the disc off of Flynn's back during the raid. The report had reached CLU with resounding failure, only stating the deaths of a few bodyguards. Master disc: not retrieved. Zuse knew that he'd be able to wring a decent amount of power out of CLU in return for the disc, so he'd kept it.

First, though, he wanted to look into it a bit.