I do not own Rinzler or Quorra, or the setting, everything is Copyright of TRON and Disney. This is a one shot and will not be added to.
Rinzler grabbed Quorra around the waist and busted out of the room. She kicked and screamed and reached for her light disc but it was pinned between her shoulder blades and Rinzler's chest. She threw punches backwards at his face which were deflected without response by his thick helmet. "You can't stop us!" she blurted with a voice that was stricken with panic. The room the program had destroyed in his rash decision was a storage facility, absolutely pristine and stacked with silver crates. He landed in a soft crouch, although the position had cranked her left arm into a painful position.
She was still protesting and fighting when he... Let her down. It came as such a surprise that when she pulled her body up onto her elbows, all she could do was stare at the deep, reflective helmet. Rinzler remained where he was, very near to her. His chest purred gently, grumbling like a warm computer monitor as he breathed in and out. They were locked in this silent, motionless battle for minutes until Quorra moved. She slowly inched backwards on the cold, glass floor and as soon as her body's advance caught his attention he was over her, a glowing orange light disc at her throat.
She drew in a sharp inhale and her muscles locked up. The purring was louder with his closeness, and his scent was something unrecognizable; like overheated gears and stone. The light disc was so close to her that she could smell her hair being seared by its power. She thought of her own light disc and lunged for it; in less than a millicycle, her reaching hand was pinned to the ground, her entire body slammed to the floor. Her lungs forced out a whine that was pitiful and submissive as her head reeled in pain from the impact. With dazed vision she glanced back over her shoulder, through the glass floor at the city and rooms below them.
Rinzler's body covered hers completely, though their only contact was his tight grip on her left wrist and the side of his calf against her thigh from his crouched position.
"What are you doing?" she asked frantically, though she knew as her brain processed and delivered this message that a response wouldn't be taking place. She felt no fear, but confusion, and wanted to kick the program away from her. But with no weapon and his obviously dominant position, doing so was suicide. She rested her head back on the floor and let her aching neck rest a moment, her body still trembling with adrenaline. His purring was constant, a sound that soon made her deaf in the absolute quiet of the storage room. She realized with this instant to think that he was extremely warm. The heat he radiated from his grip on her was almost as overwhelming as the light disc he had refrained from threatening her with. The incalescence from his grip on her wrist licked down her forearm like flame.
"Please let me go. Kill me, or let me go."
She jumped in surprise when Rinzler finally moved, snapping the orange circle back onto his suit. He remained above her, and with his now free hand he slowly and gently pulled her other arm above her head and held it to the floor. Fear overcame her again but she didn't know why. She studied his mask in a panic for eyes, eyes always transferred emotion and she wanted to read his emotions, his intentions. There were none to be found.
He leaned closer to her face, and in her trance Quorra barely missed the feeling of his knee sliding along her inner thigh, meeting at the middle. A scream caught in her throat, and then she felt his heat. She held her breath as he rubbed her up and down, his warmth pulling all her heat away from her arms and legs to her core. The weariness and comfort it bestowed upon her made her feel drunk. When she finally exhaled Rinzler drew closer to her, resting the cool glass of his helmet against the top of her cheekbone. She began to breathe again and each breath left a cloud of fog on the blackness, disappearing to reform again. The skin on her cheek vibrated with his purring, the sound so clear and close it send waves through her, its cycle quickened slightly from before. She felt his own exhales on her neck from the helmet's vent, hot gusts of air that gave her goose bumps despite its searing quality.
He pushed his knee against her and she cried out, her back arching and her chest shoved momentarily against the thick fibers of his suit. Rinzler's buzzing heightened at the contact and she felt his grip on her tighten. And so he pushed again, Quorra inhaling harshly and lifting her knees out of reflex. The friction of her legs against his drove Rinzler's passion and curiosity and he quickly released his hold on one of Quorra's arms, sliding his hand down her side, gracing the side of her breast.
"Oh don't," she begged, though her delivery was filtered of the fear she was experiencing and came out more like a plea than a demand. He cupped her right breast in his hand through her suit, rubbing his thumb back and forth over it. Her assertiveness fell away as she began to sigh again, her head lolling from side to side with his touch. Rinzler's calidity melted through the material to her skin and his detailed movements teased her so.
Quorra stared into her own eyes on his reflective face, waiting with shallow breathes. He tilted his head down and she felt the urge to press her face to his again as she felt his touch again at her stomach. He followed the stitches of her slick clothing to the top of her inner thigh, then took his time to run each finger down to the hem where they met. Her body trembled again, but with a different adrenaline. His patience was killing her, but she could tell by the change of pace in his purring that he too was dying to progress. The thought passed her mind, How did I even get here? Why am I letting him..? She felt his fingers again, it was gone.
In a sudden bout of what seemed to be intense urgency Rinzler sat back, discontinuing his restraint and resting in a crouch over her legs. He seemed to look at her, the way his head was angled, before he again placed his hands to her lap. He stroked her through her clothing and watched the way her stomach rose and fell in an audible reaction. He repeated his motion and this time was gifted with a moan, trying a third time with the same response. His purring grew stronger and he lunged so quickly to lay over her again she almost pulled away, believing he was advancing to harm her. In the pit of his stomach he felt a tinge of emotion, of comfort, but to him this was alien. He had merely started out exploring her body like a new piece of machinery, but now he was enthralled, addicted.
He felt her button through the thin material and rubbed it between his fingers, obtaining more sounds from Quorra, strong sounds. Her back arched each time he created friction, lifting her chest and stomach against him without control. He caressed her again and again, and each time it became less precise and more driven.
Rinzler's heat was overwhelming and she knew the warmth she felt between her legs wasn't his alone. Her body was beginning to beg for him and with his face so close to her the humming purr was now running the course of her being. He brought his knee back to pleasure her as his hand went for the fastens under her collar. The first one unsnapped with ease and again he pushed his feverish, dark face to hers and Quorra pressed against him willingly, nuzzling her nose to the glass.
Soon the front of her suit had split like a wound, and her pale skin was exposed in a long thin triangle down to where Rinzler's knee pressed her so eagerly. He slid one arm under the small of her back and with the other hand he worked to uncover her small breasts, cupping and caressing as he went. He slid his knee back to support himself as his hand took its place, carelessly and intently ripping the thin cloth to get better access. Quorra was dazed, the weight and the mechanical purring and the searing heat of his exploring hands had sent her into a spiral of pleasure that kept her from experiencing the details of his actions.
His gloved fingers stroked her button again and she nudged into him heavily, holding onto the folds on the side of his disc suit and burying her head into the chaffing fabric on his neck. He made circles with his thumb and her silence was broken, her whole body shaking as she moaned quietly through her teeth. Rinzler alternated between circles and stroking, watching as Quorra lost control of her muscles; grabbing at nothing, pulling her legs up and stretching them out again. She was somewhere else entirely, her eyes were closed and her hands barely touched his body.
He paused and waited; his whirring lessening to a sound and vibration that only ran through their contact at her cheek. She opened her eyes and at that exact moment he drove two fingers into her. She choked on her gasp and Rinzler pulled her close to him, his heat and reverberation increasing. He waited before pulling out and slipping in again, her loud moan surprising and exciting him. The extreme amount of focus that he had been programmed for was fizzling into something that he had yet to feel. When she reached for him, grabbing for the arm that was positioned at her waist, his purring intensified and he moved deeper into her, teasing her with his thumb. He could hear her whispering under her breath, babbling, and then he heard his name. Quorra held to him, her hands wandering up and down his electrified body; and she pulled at him, pulling him towards her, into her, against her.
He was picking up a rhythm and could feel her riding him, his gloved fingers working easily against her skin. He was over her again, but no longer threatening. Her thighs were separated by his as he held his weight on his knees, their chests pressed together by his arm at the curve of her back, her face against his neck, his dark face. He thought he could feel her kissing him; is that what she was doing? Her hands held to his back, grabbing his disc and his shoulders, she was saying his name and asking him for things he couldn't make out.
Rinzler retreated to leave her empty and hoisted her legs around his back, the bulge at his own waist pressing at her bare opening and she folded her arms over his neck, his mechanical smell drugging her. The roaring hum in his chest was deafening but Quorra was no longer distracted but allured by the noise and vibration. When he began to move against her, she followed his lead and strained into him, speaking to him again, asking and begging for things he wasn't listening to. He knew what he wanted now and assumed her desires matched. She bit the cloth on his neck and into the flesh underneath as her hands slipped down the damp fabric plating on his chest and stomach, toying with the place between his legs. He almost dropped her at this meeting and slowed his shifting, indulging in her actions and taken back by her change in attention.
As he reached for the guard fasteners at his hips, he held Quorra's head in his hand and felt her kissing him again. This pushed him faster and before he could trace his own steps he was teasing her with his erection and she was moaning into his neck and raking at his shoulders. He enjoyed her begging the most, as earlier she had been begging for him to simply leave her be. Now if he had left her she would be crying for something entirely different. His teasing was pleasurable, but Quorra was writhing. Her hands were down his back and she was bearing against him in such a way that it took most of his strength to hold off. He slid into her only barely and she froze, her body tightening and her breath catching in her throat. He purred loudly.
She whispered a quiet, "Oh," against the hot fabric on his neck and he teased her again to coax another moan. "Oh, please!" she almost yelled and Rinzler's rumbling resembled laughter as he hoisted her warm body against his own searing skin and forced further into her with his thrust. He felt her grip onto his disc to pull him in further but he held fast, denying her of overindulgence. He slipped out and then in at the same depth and nuzzled her damp face in an attempt to keep her calm. She let out a nervous, embarrassed laugh and kissed the black glass, embracing him again.
The next motion he drove deeper, pressing her down as he moved upwards. This combination created more noise between them, her ragged exhales and his hungry humming. Rinzler felt his focus crumbling and soon he was thrusting deeper, holding Quorra hard and bracing his feet against the slick glass floor. She had been begging the entire time and in his head he was sharing the same thoughts, wanting to fill her and hear her moan louder. She wasn't machinery or a program, she was something entirely different. Their passion climbed as he moved fast, forcing into her over and over. He couldn't hear her anymore over his own intense thoughts, but he could feel her breath against his shoulder and neck and her lips pressing greedily to his thin suit and how tight she held him. She could no longer beg, but receive, and listen to the rhythm of his lust. His whirring vibrated in and against her and she was unable to think of anything clearly. She felt him shaking, barely able to hold his weight and her own in this moment. She lowered herself to the floor and pulled him onto her, using her legs to bring him deeper and embracing his shoulders and neck. He was greedy with her, and she allowed it.
He pushed deep and fast and hard, and his heat was so intense she felt as though she were splitting, her head spinning and her body folding in exhaustion and building tightness. The volume of Rinzler s humming resembled a factory machine as his thrusts held longer and his embrace became more rigid and desperate. She came before he, then again, and this fueled his own, the weight of his body bearing down on her as she was wetted. The purring died in waves as the warmth of his entire body engulfed her, her skin burning with the electricity given off by their connection. Soon he was quiet, and so was she and she held him; her suit torn and wet, her cheeks flushed, her fingertips sore from digging into his disc suit. He pulled out from her, his softening erection slick and dripping, and he nuzzled her with his smeared, steamed helmet.
As he refastened his suit, she repaired her own using a code on her disc. She looked untouched, save for the redness of her skin leftover from their indulgence. She turned to Rinzler who was repositioning his orange disc and looking in her direction.
Without thought she stepped forward, and embraced him.