Chapter Text
“Agent Tucker. Arriving promptly I see.” The Director was sat at his desk again, though thankfully there was no gun on it this time.
“Uhh, yeah. The Counsellor said it was urgent.” In fact it was the only thing Tucker was told before being shoved back into the Director’s office for the second time in one day.
“It is. You spoke before about the AI program.”
“I did. I mean, I do know about it yes.” Tucker was getting nervous. If the Director wanted him to tell him about whether the AI were successful, he was not sure what the answer was.
“So you know about the Beta AI?”
“The Beta?”
“Yes Agent Tucker. The Beta.”
“I’m not familiar with an AI from your program called the Beta, no.” Tucker silently prayed.
“Would you like to meet her?” Wait, her? Tucker thought before the door to the office opened again and none other than Tex walked in.
“Tex?!”
“So you are familiar with the Beta AI. Good. I thought maybe you would be caught out by this but apparently not.” The Director continued talking, apparently oblivious to Tucker’s brain stopping working. “She is a by-product of the AI process, and has helped me in many ways already. She is going to join the program soon. Agent Tucker, you’re dismissed.” Tucker glanced at the Director and then left the room. He was not sure what was stranger, seeing the Meta before he was the Meta, young and innocent Wash, or a newly formed AI Tex that had none of the hardships the older version had. It had been a strange day and Tucker hoped that he could sleep and maybe, just maybe wake up back on Chorus. He vaguely remembered how to get back to Wash’s room, only taking a wrong turn twice, when he found it, it was empty, Wash had not returned yet. Tucker collapsed onto his bed, completely exhausted from the most bizarre day he had ever had, and that included the day that he had given birth to Junior.
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Tucker was woken by a beeping sound that would not stop.
“Caboose, stop it. Whatever is beeping needs to stop.” Stupid idiot had probably pressed the wrong button on the toaster again or something equally idiotic.
“Who’s Caboose?” A voice asked. A familiar voice. That sounded different yet comforting. Wash. Everything came rushing back, the cube, the closet, the director, young Wash. Groaning Tucker opened his eyes to see the same young Wash as yesterday still sitting on his bed across the room. Still in the past then.
“Morning.” Tucker grunted out, trying find the will to get out of bed and face this crazy world.
“Who’s Caboose?” Wash asked again, still looking at something on his datapad.
“Oh, Caboose? Just a guy I used to work with. Had a bad habit of setting off things in the morning.” Tucker lied. Or was it a lie? Technically he’s with Project Freelancer right now so he did used to work at Chorus and does not anymore. “What’s the agenda for today then?”
“We’re training today?” Wash answered.
“We?”
“Yes, we. The Counsellor asked me to assess your skill levels. So we’ll be spending all day in the training grounds.”
“And what exactly do we train?”
“Everything. You’re a part of Project Freelancer now, we are trained in all aspects but mainly excel in one area like lock-picking, stealth, hand to hand, anything that you are skilled in that would be useful in a combat situation.” Washington explained.
“So we’re going to be together in a room all day, alone, just working together. You aren’t worried about that?” Tucker sat up on his bed, feeling kind of disgusting for having slept in his clothes last night.
“We’ll have others join us, though it’ll probably just end up being York, because Carolina, North, and South are away on a mission right now. Why would I be worried about training you?”
“Because of what happened yesterday?” This was not an appropriate conversation to be in your underwear for, but Tucker felt too covered in dirt and sweat to be comfortable, so he pulled of his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his underwear.
“The thing in the training room?” Wash questioned glancing up at Tucker and freezing when he noticed his state of undress. “Why do you not have clothes on?”
“Yes, the thing in the training room. And because I have no other clothes and I don’t know if we’re training in regular clothing or armor yet.”
“Regular clothing. You can borrow more of mine.” Wash stood up and gathered more clothes for Tucker to wear while Tucker appreciated the lovely shade of red that Wash had turned.
“As much as I like to be in your clothing, am I going to be getting my own at some point? Also, I thought you freelancers always trained in your armor. I’m starting to miss the aqua if I’m being honest.” Tucker said as Wash threw the clean clothing he had just pulled out of the drawer over at Tucker. It landed just to the right of Tucker, missing hitting him but also not landing out of reach so he could not tell whether or not it was meant to land there. It was pretty much the same clothes as yesterday, and he did not want to ask Wash where to get fresh underwear, he could last another day with that.
“It’s up to the Director and Counselor when you get clothes. Considering you were returned after your urgent meeting last night, I’d say you’ll get your own clothes soon enough.”
“You seem disappointed by the thought of me in my own clothes Wash.” Okay, Wash did not actually seem disappointed, but who would pass up the opportunity to tease Wash.
“I- uh- I’ll see you in the training room.” Wash stammered out as he quickly exited the room. Tucker noted that Wash had given his nearly naked body another glance up and down before he left though. Some part of Tucker’s maybe plan to maybe potentially bang young Wash was working. But then again, Tucker thought about what older Wash had said to him before he was transported here. After he had told Tucker he knew that he was being stared at the whole of the meeting, then it was something about just blending in when he was here. No, before that, something about a mutual feeling? A mutual stance? A feeling! A mutual feeling if Tucker wasn’t staring at Wash with hatred or something? But if older Wash still didn’t know Tucker liked him and wanted to bang him then Tucker must have not been able to bang young Wash. Or he did and didn’t make it clear enough that he would be partial to a more than friend’s relationship. Maybe Wash was just a little bit naïve to the way of Tucker. Or maybe it was because in older Wash’s timeline, Tucker hadn’t gone back in time to bang him yet! But then he wouldn’t know that Tucker was going back in time and wouldn’t have warned him to blend in. Or in older Wash’s timeline, Tucker had gone back but hadn’t banged him, and so older Wash only knew Tucker went back. Or older Wash had banged Tucker when Tucker was with younger Wash, but now older Wash was waiting until Tucker had banged younger Wash until older Wash could bang Tucker as well?
Tucker shook his head and started to put on the clothes Wash had given him. He had a slight headache from trying to make sense of the time travel, and was admittedly, slightly aroused now at the thought of getting double teamed from older and younger Wash. If only. Just imagine it, they could take care of Tucker, then when Tucker was too tired, they could take care of each other. Would older Wash take control? Use his gruff voice and years of dealing with bullshit to take it out on younger Wash, tie him down and make him take it all. But then again would older Wash relish not being in control for once, and let his younger self use and abuse him completely. Older Wash had some insane trust issues, but who else could you trust with your body than yourself. The image of an older Wash lying down on the bed, hands above his head, being held down by his younger self who was inside older Wash and thrusting away while older Wash just took it overwhelmed Tucker. He took a deep breath in, he had only managed to put on the t-shirt so far. He picked up the bottoms and pulled them on, it wasn’t till he was pulling them over his hips did he finally have to face the fact. That he was 100% erect now and it was not going anywhere anytime soon.
Sighing, Tucker locked the door. It was pretty much the same type of door he had on the old base. Tucker walked over to his bed but before he got on it he looked over at Wash’s bed. He couldn’t. That was like, the ultimate trust betrayal, you don’t just masturbate on another guy’s bed. Never mind someone you just met yesterday. Though technically, Tucker had known Wash for years. Satisfied with his conclusion, Tucker walked over to Wash’s bed. He stripped his shirt back off before lying down on the bed. He was surrounded by the smell of Wash. The soap he used was different, but that was only a part of it. The base smell, the Wash part of it, apparently didn’t change from older to younger Wash. Tucker slightly pushed down his pants, enough to free his dick, which still hadn’t changed from raring to go. Firmly grasping himself, Tucker tried to push away all thoughts of how wrong this was and simply focused on the smell and the images he had previously been thinking of. Only difference was that now the two Wash’s were focused on Tucker.
Slowly, Tucker started to stroke his dick as he thought of all the potential scenarios he could act out with two of the same Wash. Younger Wash would want Tucker inside him, he decided, he would want to be owned by Tucker, marked and bruised. Tucker could just imagine it, younger Wash laid out on his front on this very bed, trying his hardest to move against Tucker but too distracted by Tucker thrusting into him to even be aware of his movements. But older Wash would want to own, to own Tucker completely, they would blanket him. Tucker’s free hand shot up to cover his mouth, the last thing he needed was anyone to hear the filthy moans he was voicing in here. The thought of being able to fuck Wash while being fucked by Wash was too much. He stroked faster and harder at the thought of it. To be completely consumed by Wash. Even by one of him. Wash all over Tucker, touching him everywhere, anywhere.
Even yesterday in the training room. If they hadn’t been interrupted. Tucker would have kissed Wash like he’d never been kissed before, filthy, wet, and exciting. Then he would pull Wash’s shirt off, Wash would be covered in sweat and Tucker would slowly lick and kiss his way down Wash’s body until he was kneeling and his face was in line with Wash’s waistband. While Wash gasped and grasped Tucker’s hair, he needed something to hold on to after all. Tucker would slowly unbutton his trousers. Making sure to ‘accidentally’ palm his dick as many times as possible while doing so. Then there would be a pause. Tucker would look up to Wash. The eye contact would almost be too intense. Wash looking down at Tucker, whose kneeling in front of him, eye level with his very prominent and very erect dick. Then, without breaking eye contact, Tucker would lick the tip. Just the tip. That would be enough to set Wash off, he would moan without care. Every careful little wall he ever built up would come crumbling down at the mere teasing of Tucker’s mouth on him.
He came.
Tucker did that is. Moaning Wash’s name aloud. All over himself like he was a teenager again. Tucker lay there for a moment, he was out of breath. That was a rather, intense session. He slowly leaned up on his elbows and looked down at himself, at least he had managed to make sure that his cum only landed on his own torso and not Wash’s bed. But now he had to figure out how to clean up.
“Fuck”.