Bow Chicka Bow Wow

Title: Breathe, Soldier

Part 1: Giving Me The Creeps

Pairing: Locington (Locus/Agent Washington)

Warning(s): M/M Slash, Intense Sexual Intercourse, Desperation, Referenced Knife Play, Sexual Tension, Referenced Breath Play, Dom/Sub Undertones, Power Kink, Abuse of Power, Mentioned Abuse, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mentioned Character Death, Etc.

Description: There are things Washington has failed to tell Tucker and Caboose about, or even Sarge and Donut for that matter. Alot happened before they left the Feds... things Washington will never forget. In which nightmares are a constant for Wash, and Locus is terrifying, more terrifying than the nightmares. He swears it's nothing at first... but it keeps the monsters away. At least, the ones in his dreams...

A/N: Was meant originally for just smut, but I actually got carried away... again. Locington is secretly a huge ship of mine, so... yeah. Once again, it seems in this series Wash doesn't have the upper-hand, but at least he's more controlled, if ya know what I mean (And by that I mean not at all in some ways).

"F-Fuck!"

The younger, much less experienced teenager moved along with the man on top of him, allowing the older boy to take control. All of this was so wrong... but David was sixteen, sixteen and desperate to break a few rules. This older guy offered him that. David briefly remembered a name for the guy... was it Rufus? God, he couldn't think, not with the two thankfully lube-covered fingers rocking into his once virgin hole, trying to ease around and find his prostate. Young David did as the man instructed, shifting when he was told, but listening and focusing was getting continuously harder as those seemingly magic fingers did their job. Dave gasped aloud as Rufus's index finger brushed his prostate, making him jerk at once.

"Finally," Rufus laughed, smiling down at David, as if he were a little, helpless mouse. "Thought I'd never find it... you ready, David?"

David nodded, whimpering a tad as those fingers left him, making him feel empty and hot all at once. Before he could grow too saddened by that, something much bigger than a finger lightly prodded at his hole, making David grunt, trying to push down and get it in hard and fast. Rufus, or whatever his name was, did not leave David hanging, quickly complying and easing his own erection into the pitiful blonde's asshole. David moaned as the first thrust rocked him back, his head hitting the headboard of his small bed. Nana wouldn't be home for another four hours, so he didn't hold back as he almost screamed at another thrust. Rufus was going faster, faster than anything, and David was reaching his peek, especially as Rufus started jerking David's erected dick, making him moan louder.

"F-Fuck... I'm close!" David warned, whimpering as he tried to shut his mouth. Yeah, nobody but he and Rufus were home, but still... he had never liked being loud, not at school, not at home, not anywhere.

"Just come," Rufus offered, his tone going gentle as he jerked David harder and faster, his latest thrust making him come himself. "Just... let it go, David."

As David finally came, his hot cum splashing in-between he and Rufus, when he heard something like an explosion going off. He opened his eyes minutes later, still panting and worn out, only to see Rufus gone. "Rufus?" He called out, looking around. Why did he feel like this had happened before? It couldn't though, he'd never had sex of any kind up until that point, so how-

He woke up.

"Agent Wash?"

"Sh, Sarge, I think he's still sleeping!"

"Of course he is, dumbnuts! Why ya think 'm tryin' to wake his ass up!?"

"But, Sarge!"

"Don't try my patience, boy."

Agent David Cooper Washington awoke with a groan, coming to with a drowsy headache already setting in, as well as aches and pains entering other various limbs of his body. Where was he? As he sat up and looked around, Washington became very well aware of where he was all too soon. He was with the Feds, the Federal Army of Chorus to be more specific, and he'd only come to after a short coma the day before. He had a check-up with the Fed's doctor at six AM... but what time was it anyhow? The soldier stood up, instantly regretting it as he felt a very sharp morning wood poke in anguish in his codpiece. The man wanted to groan, but held back, keeping a straight face as he faced Sarge and Donut.

"Wash, you're up!" Donut cried cheerfully, smiling widely, his helmet discarded while the rest of his armor was on securely. "Doctor Grey wanted us to tell you that you were late, and she wants to see you ASAP!"

"Dammit, Donut," Sarge cried, smacking the younger rookie on the head, his own helmet securely on his head. He and Wash had similar standards when it came to wearing armor. "You didn't even tell 'em 'bout Lopez!"

"Lopez?" Washington questioned, only to remember the Spanish robot a second too late. "I thought they fixed him yesterday, where is he anyhow?"

Sarge would've looked heartbroken by Washington's guess if he had been unarmored. "Aw, Lopez, my only real friend... they took 'em off 'n said he needed fixin'! Oh, why, why you terrible, forsaken God I once swore was Red!?" He collapsed onto Wash outta nowhere.

The grey soldier was completely surprised, but soon softened, patting Sarge's backing both awkwardly and comfortingly. "I'm... sure he's fine, Sarge... they wouldn't hurt Lopez, not on our watch." He had comforted his Nana on more than one occasion, but this, comforting an insane war veteran? Wash was clueless as to what to do. "Um... I better go see the doctor. I'll be back soon, 'kay?"

"Okey dokey!" Donut replied, taking Washington's place in hugging Sarge, but he did it with more passion and enthusiasm. "I'll take of 'em for ya!"

"Um... thanks, Donut..." Wash muttered, walking off, but not without a noticeably oddness in his step, coming from the awful hard-on between his legs.

Oh yes... It was going to be a long day.

The grey Freelancer moved quickly through the hallways, figuring out halfway through to the main entrance that he had no clue where the doctor's office was. No matter, he could find it on his own! Washington walked more slowly this time, feet echoing in the empty hallways, seeing as all of the soldiers were out training or in the mess hall eating. As a few more minutes passed, Wash became continuously more lost, until he'd wound up somewhere farther off from the barracks. He looked around earnestly, trying to spot anything that looked remotely like a doctor's office, but everything looked so much alike, it was hard to spot any particular landmarks or signs. Sighing, Wash was ready to give up, until a deep voice broke through the air.

"Agent Washington, you're up rather late." Locus commented, standing directly behind the Freelancer.

Washington swung around full force, glaring daggers behind his visor at the mercenary. How in God's name had Locus gotten the drop on him? Had to be the invisibility upgrade to his armor, Wash reasoned. "What're you doing here, Locus?"

The mercenary put away his weapon, stepping closer to Wash, a little too close really. "The Doctor asked me to fetch you... you're an hour later for your check-up, Agent."

The no doubt younger man looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the way Locus was looking at him. "Thanks, I guess." He muttered out, turning towards what he hoped was the doctor's office.

"Other way." Locus stated, without even looking at Washington.

"Oh, uh, I know. Just had to turn around is all." Washington explained, running past Locus again to another building.

Before he could get away however, Wash was grabbed by the back of his upper-body armor, being yanked backwards by Locus. "Agent Washington, in the future, if you're ever in need of a guide of the camp, I'd be happy to oblige." The mercenary promised, soon letting go, his grip having lingered a bit.

"Yeah, I'll keep it in mind, thanks," Washington lied, walking back towards the doctor's office. "I said it before and I'll say it again, Locus; you aren't my friend." The Freelancer stated, turning to glare again at Locus.

Locus simply nodded, pulling out his Saw once more, walking away. "I've never wanted to befriend you, Agent." He explained, before disappearing once more from the man's vision.

Wash shivered, shaking his head. "And I thought I was melodramatic." He muttered, running off again to find Dr. Grey and get his stupid check-up over with.

"Great to see ya showed up, Agent Washington," Emily Grey greeted, looking none too happy at her patient's lateness. "I'll need you to strip out of your armor now and sit on the bed, please."

"But, I-" It felt odd somewhere in Washington's mind that he spoke up, but hey, he wasn't about to just show his body to anybody. Of course, if he had ready expected to avoid this, he would've just never shown up. "Are you sure we need to-"

"Agent Washington," Wash heard a certain amount of both anger and impatience leaking in Dr. Grey's throat. "You're already really late for this check-up, and I have other patients waiting for me. Please, don't make me get somebody to help." By help, Wash could deduce she meant have someone come in and manhandle him out of his armor.

Washington tried not to make any smartass retorts as he finally started to pull off his armor, minding the doctor's steady gaze on his person. He squirmed a bit under that look, reminding himself that she was a doctor, one who he could trust in looking at his body. Thing was, the only people who'd ever seen him naked were his long since dead parents, his Nana, the prostitute he'd hired at sixteen to fuck senseless and good, Maine, The Director (He'd screamed that time), and Carolina (Again, screamed). That was quite the list, but Wash still felt a certain touch of modesty. He'd always been modest body-wise, never talking-wise (He couldn't even count how many times he'd back-talked York or North).

However, he pushed those remaining strands of modesty out the window as he found himself only in his boxers and helmet, finding that he must've looked ridiculous. Emily sighed, smirking though as she forced Washington to sit on a medical fold-out table. "You're more modest than rookie during his first group shower." She commented, running her hands over his ribs, making the man stiffen on instinct. "Easy there, tiger," She ordered, voice soft. "I'm not gonna kill you... hopefully."

"That doesn't really help, to be honest," Wash mentioned, freezing when Emily stopped checking his bandaged sides, hands making a move for the seal-release on his helmet. "Don't... don't do that."

"I need to check your head for any signs of a concussion, as well as review the surgery I did a few days ago." Emily explained, stopping to take her own helmet off. Her eyes were shocking purple, while her hair was a soft auburn color. "See? S'not so bad." She explained.

"I'm not a child," Wash stated, letting Emily take off his helmet, his arms wrapping around his middle. "Stop talking to me like I'm crazy."

Emily placed Washington's helmet beside the Freelancer, returning her hands to his face, to which Wash tried not to meet her eyes, trying to turn away, only making her irritated. "Oh, stop it, ya big baby," She ordered, smirking when Wash huffed. "Hold still, I'm almost done."

After what felt like forever, Emily Grey let go of Washington's face, walking to her computer, which was set up on her desk idly. She picked up a mic connected to it, clicking it on. "Patient Agent Washington shows signs of past abuse, as predicted. Patient also showed reluctance to follow orders, as well as a large amount of modesty. The surgery seems to have been a success, no lasting trauma seems to have come to the neural implants in the patient's neck. On an added note, the patient's eyes are grey/blue, his hair is a suicide blonde, and he seems to have Asian heritage. I have theories that he is a Patch Baby. Finish Recording."

"You do that for every patient?" Wash asked playfully, but didn't make any further moves to unwind before the doctor. He silently pretended that a part of him hadn't internally flinched at the mentioning of Patch Babies.

"It's necessary these days," Emily explained, moving back over to Washington, lifting one of his arms experimentally. "Do you feel any pain in any parts of your body, specifically in your head or neck?"

Wash shook his head. "None that're too severe." He explained, looking away as Emily recorded his reply into her computer. "Are we done yet? I'd like to scout the camp and get a feel for it."

"Of course," Emily mused back, smiling at Wash. "You were an... alright patient. Not lollypop worthy, but you did better than Locus ever did." She started saving her computer files. "I'll be seeing you back here soon enough, Wash. See ya then!"

The blonde almost asked about Locus's visit, but decided at the last minute that it was better to just keep quiet. The faster he could be in his armor, the better. The man hopped off the table, reclaiming his under-suit, when a knock hit the door. Before anyone could answer, Locus walked in, stopping to stare at Washington. The blonde squirmed under the mercenary's gaze, unused to the attention to his body. Besides, he'd hardly ever been out of armor since Project Freelancer, and just being in his just his under-suit was enough to make him feel naked before Locus. The Freelancer soon gathered his bearings and started to re-armor, ignoring Locus's still roaming eyes.

"Locus," Emily sounded both mad and stern, which made Wash almost chuckle at the thought of such a young girl challenging a giant monster like Locus. "I told you to wait for me to answer before you just barge in. You're lucky it wasn't Doyle I was checking, he would've fainted!" She crossed her arms, glaring at the mercenary.

"My apologizes, doctor." Locus spoke with a certain touch of sincere apology in his voice, giving Wash the impression that Emily had saved Locus's sorry ass more than once before. "I'll try and remember that next time... the General asked me to bring you this," He hands her a well-locked box, which Emily takes quickly and happily. "He seems... hesitant to give it to you."

"Oh, goody!" Emily's once stern demeanor changed just like that, her voice going sweet and adorable once more. "My monkey lungs are here! I've been wanting to do a few experiments on these puppies for so long now... looks like I've got something to do this weekend!" She nodded at Washington, seeing him fully armored. "You can go now, Agent Washington. Sorry for the wait!"

"No problem" Wash mumbled back, holding his hands up, backing away towards the door very slowly. Emily was acting alot like Sarge when he got excited about experiments... he wasn't about to find out if she got similar results as the Red Team leader anytime soon. "I'll be on my way then," He decided, walking past Locus, refusing the urge to shove past him or growl under his breath. "I'm going to go check on Sarge and see if Lopez is outta repairs."

Even as Washington left, he could still fell Locus's eyes on his retreating person, making him feel smaller and smaller with each, long, tedious step away from the doctor's office.

"We're being separated!?"

Donut sounded, as Washington had expected, terrified and honestly betrayed. He watched the pink soldier with a sad expression under his helmet, desperately wishing it didn't have to go down this way. As it turns out, the Feds had bases everywhere, well, almost everywhere, and they need Donut, Sarge, and Lopez elsewhere, while Washington is needed there. Wash sighed under his breath, not loud enough for Donut to hear over his panicking, loud enough for Lopez to process, sad enough for Sarge to give him a concerned tilt of his own helmet. Wash patted Donut's shoulder awkwardly, like he had hugged Sarge that morning, feeling out of place and unnecessary.

Locus was off to the side, watching the little interaction steadily, his gaze focused mainly on Washington once more, making the grey and yellow soldier uncomfortable as it had before. When deeply thought upon, Wash had wished he could also accompany the Reds, but in reality, he knew damn well knew that he was needed wherever he could assist. Wash was... he wasn't dedicated, not in the way he knows dedication. Dedication is working overtime at a fast-food restaurant to afford your Nana's pills, dedication is signing up for a war your father believed in at age sixteen, dedication is joining a project you've never heard of just to make a difference, dedication is protecting the Simulation Soldiers who protected you once.

Protecting the Federalists is not the dedication Washington knows, but it's... something.

"Well, if you're all ready... may we be off?" Doyle sounded scared to intervene, as Wash expected, but he could see the fluid evidence of true dedication on his face for the military. Doyle was out of armor, wearing a finely pressed suit, having to leave for a conference in the same place the Reds are going off to. "I hate to rush-" That much is obvious. "-But... we are on a very tight schedule."

"Understood," Sarge replied, sounding strangely accepting of the whole 'Working for the Feds' deal they had going on. "We'll be ready in just a sec 'ere, General." He turned to Donut, taking Wash's place in patting his back. "Come on, son," He ordered softly, guiding him away from the Freelancer. "Let's get'a goin'."

"*Sniff*, Do we gotta, Sarge?" Donut begged to know, hiccuping lightly into his armored arm, hunched over as he looked up for confirmation to Sarge. When his leader finally nodded, he looked to Wash, his fear apparent, even with his armor on. "Bye, Wash." He muttered, walking away.

"We'll be back sooner than ya think," Sarge promised, nodding at Wash. As usual, he was reading everyone like a book. "Keep my shotgun while 'm gone, ya here?"

"Um..." Doyle spoke up, fidgeting behind the Sargent. "I do believe you are permitted to bring your, er, shotgun. However, I also believe that close-combat weapons would n-" Without even hearing Doyle all the way out, Sarge was long gone, off to get his shotgun. "At least we can expect him to... um, inspire our soldiers?" He decided, slowly walking away. "Come along then, we must be on our way!"

Donut followed along with Lopez, both giving Wash one last, long look. "I'll be fine," Washington promised, waving at the two Reds, now turned three as Sarge regrouped at record time. "You guys get those soldiers trained so we can get our friends back sooner."

With that, Sarge, Donut, and Lopez were led out of the Federalist base, and into a Warthog with Doyle. Wash sighed, before Locus loomed behind him, a heavy hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "They'll be fine, Agent." Locus promised, but it almost sounded like a guarantee, like he could control their protection somehow.

Wash brushed Locus off, glaring at the green and black mercenary. "I don't need your comfort, Locus." He spat back, storming off, only to be stopped again by the larger man.

"If you're ever in need of my... assistance-" Washington was smart enough to catch what Locus was throwing at him. "Feel free to come get me..." Locus walked off after that, leaving Wash be with his thoughts.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Sadly, it's not the Grimmons I've been working on for Yin, but Locington is my dirty ship and I just HAD to get something else posted on here... but yeah, more slash for the next part for sure! At the very least, this has slash in it, which I actually liked somewhat. Again, I'm fairly unexperienced with writing slash fanfictions, so please, keep that in mind! Please R&R, and have a nice day!

~CabooseHeart.