Title: A Strong Enough Wall
Series: mmom Day 2 (mmom. livejournal. com)
Author: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Fandom: Tron
Pairing(s): Tron/Sam
Summary
: Sam tries to find some alone time. Tron makes it hard.
Warning(s): masturbation
Word Count
: 1,320
Rating: M

A/N: Still not comfortable writing in this fandom no matter how much I want to get more into it. :( But baby steps I guess.

o.o.o.o

Sam would swear on his life that it had been a combination of stress from Encom and from too many people counting on him that had compelled him to ditch the cadre of programs that made up his entourage on the Grid. With hastily given excuses about needing to recharge and find his Zen or something – he really had to watch the word vomit that happened whenever he didn't have anything of substance to say – he rushed to his home away from home and immediately erected – he also had to watch the puns – erected a hasty firewall to lock himself inside, effectively cutting himself off from everyone and everything. It became a veritable sensory deprivation chamber of his own. The windows and doors vanished. Only the barest of circuitry to light the space remained, and more importantly, no bit of information could pass between him and the outside.

The barrier was necessary because he'd grown so accustomed to reaching out to a wall, to the ground, and lately to absolutely nothing and pulling up a screen, pulling up code and simply building. He shaped the world around him with so much ease it was frightening; it was as though this place wanted him to fix it. This way, locked inside a familiar and safe place alone, he could contain the fallout if he lost control, when he lost control.

So maybe, just maybe he'd been thinking about doing this for weeks now, maybe even been planning on such an occasion. The sheer amount of self-control he'd exerted in refraining would've amazed even Tron, who just happened to be the reason he was here now earlier than he'd planned, derezzing his armor with just a thought, goosebumps forming as his skin was exposed to the cold, sterility of the room. He spit in his hand, and when he finally grabbed his erection, he let his knees give out, back pressed to the nearest wall as he slid down it.

He blamed it entirely on Tron and his hands and his voice and his face and his thighs. Damn his thighs and the way the armor clung to him and left very little to the imagination. Damn Tron for the way he looked at him, for the trust and steadfast belief in everything he did.

Now that he was finally touching himself, Sam thought it would have been more different somehow, but masturbating on the Grid wasn't that different from off it. His body was the same, familiar, and, curled forward with sweat gradually building, one hand stroking himself furiously while he shoved the fist of the other into his mouth to stifle his groans, it was just like he was on the couch in the garage. He knew he could make sounds; no one would be able to hear him. He just couldn't let himself go. It felt too dangerous.

He bent forward until his forehead was pressed against his knees. Harsh breaths, pants really, filled the space and the floor was quickly warming. Everything was warming. The circuits glowed brighter the second he placed a hand on the floor; so, he immediately bit his knuckle again. It wasn't that different; no, but it was different enough.

He could still hear the sort of hum, a thrum of the grid that reminded him awfully of the music at the End of Line club. But truly, the derezzing of his armor had been so simple. It was so damn convenient, and the thought of the ease with which he could undress others, one particular other wrenched a choked moan from him. It was an unfair thought because he shouldn't think of Tron like that. He shouldn't take advantage of him, but it was a thought, trailing a finger down Tron's spine to watch the armor fall away, fall apart and God, he was more interested in what was underneath it for the program than he should be. Skin, an expanse of skin held tight over defined muscles or circuits or whatever the hell it was that Sam wanted to explore, was surely there, but he wondered if there was more.

He moaned softly in his next exhale and stroked harder. The thought of touching Tron, having Tron touch him, was almost enough. Throwing his head back, feet pressing down into the floor, he banged his head against the wall once.

There was an answering bang, and Sam cursed as he scrambled forward on his hands and knees. He stared at the wall, frozen in place and straining to hear if someone were on the other side. There was no way he should've been able to hear anything. Two more bangs sounded and he could actually see the wall he'd coded collapse to reveal the front door.

"Sam! Sam," Tron yelled. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah?" he hastily called, staring down at himself. He was completely naked and somehow still hard, probably harder now that he knew who was on the other side of the door. "Yeah," he restated. "I'm fine. I really am," save for the part where he'd almost had a heart attack at Tron's sudden appearance.

There was a pause and he could practically hear Tron thinking and considering just tearing down the door. Just in case that was the conclusion the security program came to, Sam coded his clothes back, ignoring how the skintight clothes stifled his erection. At least he didn't have to worry about any stains. That errant thought led directly into cursing himself for giving Tron damn near admin access to everything, at least the ability to remove firewalls. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Sam placed an ear to the door, hoping that his response had been enough to ease his worries and that Tron would have decided to leave him be. "Tron?" When there was an extended silence, he palmed his erection through the armor. The program had sounded worried. He was always worried really, concerned for him. Sam could always feel his gaze, watching his every motion. He derezzed the bare minimum to allow him access to his erection. It made him hot thinking about it. Tron was a steady presence by his side. He braced himself against the door. He felt like he could do anything with him there and the admiration he felt, oh, how he wished it were still just admiration that he felt for him.

"Sam."

"Shit," Sam said under his breath, but it didn't stop him from stroking himself faster. He grit his teeth and hated that he couldn't stop. He couldn't because he could picture Tron standing just on the other side of this door, not wanting to leave. His brown hair would be tousled, his arms crossed, staring uncertainly at the door like it was some virus or gridbug that needed to be dealt with.

Sam held his breath, but the sound of his hand on his cock was so loud, too loud.

"Sam?" Tron called again, and Sam came hard, so much sooner than he'd expected, unexpected enough that he let out a groan and his head actually spun. He reasoned that it had been too long since he'd last done this. It had nothing to do with the fact that Tron was so close. Shaky breaths caused his chest to heave, and looking down at himself, at the mess on the door and his hands, at his clothed body save for his exposed groin, he winced and banged his head against the door again.

"I'll just-" Sam was distracted by his own thudding heartbeat, at the high he still hadn't come down from that had mixed with disgust at himself, but at least his voice wasn't as breathless as he expected. At least Tron didn't know what he'd been doing. "I'm fine. Just… give me a moment." He didn't know how he'd ever look at the security program again.

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Fic Review: My favorite thing just so happens to be the summary of this fic. I'm still not that incredibly happy with it, but hey, what can you do?