Work Text:
"You got squished like a bug."
"I did not-" Tech cuts himself off. "Like a bug? Please, restrain yourself from making such comedic remarks about my pain and suffering."
With that, Tech lets out a grunt, and you're unsure if it's at your remark, or an outlet from the pain that he's currently in.
Tech was squished like a bug during the last mission. Splat! As you so put it, after Tech explained what exactly happened in that war chest. The force of a thousand suns flattened his poor leg, and his thigh soaked up most of the damage.
That's what he gets for not wearing thigh armour.
That comment didn't go down well, either. However, Tech should know by now that your wit and sarcasm will never fail you. You have, after all, been running with the Batch long before the Clone Wars fizzled out into... whatever this is, The Galactic Empire, and those who opposite it.
If only Hunter would allow you and the others to join the fight...
Back onto the topic. Tech was carried into the Marauder's medical wing, with Echo's assistance, and left on the medical bed for you to check him over. He was hissing and wincing as he pushed himself up onto the table, his hands flexing whilst he gripped onto his thigh, and pleading eyes met yours as he began going over the series of events.
You were stationed with Hunter and Wrecker, seeing as Wrecker is your loyalist customer when it comes to injuries, only Tech has taken you by surprise!
"It's definitely fractured," you state as you dig through your medical kit, finding something exciting to dial down the pain. Tech has stated that he'd prefer to remain awake, which is understandable, seeing as you won't be stitching him up, or worse, cutting him open.
"I assume I'll have to lounge around with a cast on for the next six weeks?" Tech questions, his eyes watching you as you read over a few labels, deciding which drugs to supply.
"Minimum," you say with a soft nod, half-focused on his words. "These will do," you decide, holding the pill bottle in one hand, whilst the other shuts your medical box.
You turn to face Tech, and with a nonchalant expression, you order, "take off your pants."
Tech's eyes blink wide beneath his goggles, and he lets out a sheepish cough before asking, "pardon?"
"I can't do an X-ray with your pants still on, and do you really want your cast applied over those jeans?" you point to his new pants - casual, straight jeans, which surely can't be comfortable to work in?
Forgive him. It's his first time out in the Galaxy, and a newly freed man is bound to make poor decisions. Live and learn, Tech...
"Oh," Tech mutters. "Understood."
You hand him the pill bottle first, along with a glass of water, and give Tech a strict order to take his drugs before stripping off. "I'll give you some privacy, call for me when you're ready," you inform, and leave the medical wing, the door swishing shut behind you.
Sure, you've seen Tech in all sorts of states, almost naked that one time, back when you were new. Wrecker had found it hilarious to fiddle with the refresher's water supply as Tech went to take a shower, and poor Tech, who was rather reserved when first meeting you, had to leave the refresher with only a towel around his waist. He had barked at Wrecker to, "leave the hot water supply alone! Are you attempting to impress our newest member? Or perhaps, make a fool of me? Both? Do you find this amusing?!" blah blah blah...
-
Minutes have passed, and you overhear Tech calling out, "you may come in."
The door swishes open, and you're greeted by Tech in the same position on the medical bed, relaxing back against the headboard. An untidy pile of armour and clothing has appeared on the floor, not that he has the ability to neatly organise them.
Tech remains in just his turtleneck under armour, his fingertips currently running along the neckline, picking at its tightness. He's wearing a standard pair of briefs, nothing enticing, and the hemline thankfully stops above the X-ray zone. Great! You don't fancy having to order Tech to remove those as they're in the way...
As for the last item of clothing, they're-
"Tech," you speak with firmness. "Are those my socks?"
Tech stops picking at his neckline to gawk down at his feet. His wiggles his toes mindlessly as he sheepishly mumbles, "it appears they are."
"Is that so?" you repeat with a raised brow.
Tech's pleading eyes come out again as he meets your gaze. "I could not find a pair of my own this morning, and seeing as we were in a rush, I opted for the next best thing."
Your eyes trail from his to look at your socks once more, the little tookas on them smiling at you. They're fuzzy, warm and snuggly, and not the sort of item that you ever thought you'd see on Tech.
Omega? Perhaps.
Wrecker? Definitely.
But Tech?
"The next best thing," you repeat his words again. "I'm surprised that you picked the tookas over the voorpaks."
Tech scoffs. "Tookas are the obvious choice. Whilst voorpaks may be pleasing to the eye, they're needy, with no consideration for personal space. Tookas, on the other hand, are far more independent animals, with a..." Tech shuts his mouth, and nervously licks his lips before asking, "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"
"A sign that the drugs have kicked in," you say with a shrug. "Time to X-ray!"
Tech lets out a defeated sigh, and watches as you set up the X-ray machine. It's a numbing and dull task, but needed, seeing as such a smart man has managed to get himself injured.
The X-ray is taken, and you leave Tech to his own devices as you begin processing the scan at your desk. Whilst you wait for the image to form, you check on a few other things, and in the corner of your eye, you notice how Tech fails to sit still.
His fingertips are running along his neckline again, attempting to find fresh air, even though his under armour has never seemed restricting before. A light glisten of sweat is sitting above his brow, and whenever Tech's hands stray from his neckline, they rest directly on his lap. His fingertips begin fidgeting with the hem of his briefs, only for his eyes to meet yours, and his hands to fall motionless.
"Are you alright?" you question.
"F-fine," Tech mutters. "Just awaiting the results."
With that, the scan is processed, and you hum to yourself as you study it. Tech doesn't look away from you; he studies your reaction, and his shoulders drop with relief as yours do. "It's not as bad as I thought," you state as you rise from your desk. "I'll apply a cast, and unfortunately for you, you'll be bound to the Marauder for the next few weeks."
"Charming," Tech huffs.
You put together a bowl of warm soapy water, and hand it over to Tech, along with a towel. "Give your thigh a good scrub. It'll be the last time it's cleaned until the cast can come off."
Tech follows your orders, and leaves you to begin putting the cast supplies together. He's letting out soft grumbles as he scrubs himself down, not applying much pressure, seeing as bruises have already begun forming.
Within minutes, you're ready, and Tech is attempting to dry his thigh. The bowl of water is discarded, and you softly mutter, "here," as you take the towel from him. "Let me help."
With your order, Tech slowly bends his leg, raising his knee high enough so that you can gently dry the underside of his thigh - a task that he was struggling to do alone. He's still wincing as you dab over the area, but nowhere near as much as he was when tending to himself. It seems you're light on your touch, and Tech is silently thankful for it.
"Keep your leg bent like that," you instruct as you dispose of the towel, and bring your cast supplies over to the workbench.
You gently run your palm over Tech's thigh, questioning if his skin is dry enough to begin the application, and only now do you realise the predicament that you're in.
You're no stranger to Tech's good looks - impeccable cheekbones, a toned chest, nimble fingers, adorable doe eyes, and a hairline so sharp that it can slice through beskar - but the issue is purely that, his good looks. You're attempting to work, and the sensation of your fingertips dancing through the light hair on his tanned thighs is causing quite the distraction.
You scoot your stool over to the medical bed, and adjust the height. Once seated, you let out a deep sigh before beginning your work, attempting to keep your eyes on his forming bruises, rather than allowing it to wander... higher...
Tech looks down at you, quite literally, watching through his tinted goggles as you begin binding his leg, paying special attention to any signs of discomfort - not that he shows any. His fingertips are subconsciously entwining with each other, fidgeting, and attempting to cover up his briefs out of politeness. It's not that you've never seen Tech, or any of the boys in their undies before, but your face is less than half a meter from his crotch, and you're both well aware.
A huff flows from your lips as you fix the soft material in place, the easy part over and done with. Now, it's time to wet the plaster, and apply it one strip at a time - a lengthy process, seeing as you have to wait for each layer to dry before continuing.
As time goes on, you both seem to relax, becoming accustomed to your new-found closeness. Tech even strikes up a light conversation, filling you in on his side of the mission, and speaking highly about the civilian that he met on the way.
"He called me Ace," Tech informs you, "not that I had any issue with it. I found the nickname rather appealing."
Your eyes trail up to meet his, and a soft laugh slips from your lips as you repeat, "Ace?"
"I think it suits me," Tech says with a shrug. "Besides..."
His words continue, shifting into comforting background noise as you do your job. At least Tech is comfortable with you; when you first met, he'd only ever correct you, or information dump on you. Now, you can hold a conversation, seeing as you managed to win him over after correcting him on a minor detail a few weeks into being stationed with the Batch.
The more Tech mutters, the more his form relaxes. His hands move from his lap to adjust his goggles, not that they probably need it, and you can't help but notice something in the corner of your eye.
In hindsight, this was your fault. You shouldn't have looked. You should have kept your focus on your work, and prevented your eyes from prying at Tech's crotch. He is, after all, a grown man sitting in his underwear, with a pretty Medic rubbing their hands along his bare thigh. Tech is a soldier, and it's a known fact that soldiers don't have much leisure time, let alone spare time to do... stuff.
Your lips fall apart, and every circuit in your brain fries within an instant. Your hands, wet and covered in plaster, come to a halt in the middle of a wrap, and all you can focus on is... that.
Tech, after adjusting his goggles, instantly falls silent as he notices that you've come to a halt. He calls out your name, and despite his exceptional mind, it takes him a few moments to realise what's caused you to stop like a deer in the headlights.
"Oh," Tech sheepishly sighs as he puts two and two together. "I..." he stutters, but words fail him. So, thinking on his feet (and fractured leg) he returns his hands to his lap, covering up the issue.
Only now do you realise that you're a karking idiot. Seriously, why did you have to stare?! Why couldn't you have turned away, blushed, and continued working?
You go to apologise, but Tech beats you to it. "I apologise... It's... It's not intentional-" he sputters.
You let out a soft sigh, and shake your head in an attempt to slap some sense into your dense brain. "Tech," you mumble his name, and after blinking heavily, you look up at him.
Tech, with cheeks so bright that they outshine the suns, fails to make eye contact. He's breathing deeply, and mentally questioning if it's possible for him to run away from his problems, even with a half-finished, wet cast around his thigh.
Instead, Tech defends himself even more, seeing as the first option isn't doable. "I have been attempting to control myself this entire time, but it seems my-"
"-Tech," you call out to him again.
Tech finally meets your gaze, but only for a moment. He can't maintain eye contact, he simply can't, that is, until you state something that has his mind spinning in confusion.
"You're huge."
"P-pardon?" Tech sputters, followed by coughing into the back of his hand. That is not what he was expecting to fall from your lips.
You wave your hands defensively, droplets of plaster falling onto the medical bed. "I mean, it's alright, you can't help it," you sputter. Now, you're the one struggling to maintain eye contact, your mind fogging up, clouded with one simple thought.
"Can't help what?" Tech questions. "My erection? Or my size?"
A timid laugh flows from your lips, "I meant your erection, but both, I guess..."
Tech laughs with you, although it's clear that he's nervous. Whatever this is - intimacy, of some form - is new. You're no stranger to light flirting with your boys, and often receiving it in return, but holy Maker. Tech is rock solid, and there is no denying that you're the cause of it; the evidence is right there!
"Well..." Tech's words fall flat, and after adjusting his goggles, he gears up again. Rather than sit in silence, mutually starstruck over the unit sitting in Tech's pants, Tech decides to ramble as much as humanly possible. "...I have chalked my size up as a side effect from my enhancements. There are multiple documented cases that the standard clones all share the same erection size. I am, however, beyond those standards."
"Wait-" you cut him short with a soft laugh. "-There are documented cases of what?"
Tech lets out a chuckle, and shakes his head in awe that he's having to bring this information to light. "It's no secret that we clones have had intimate relationships, and some partners like to... how should I say it? Discuss their experiences with others on the holonet."
You repeat Tech's motions, softly laughing and shaking your head, amazed over this new information. "You mean, people like to jump on the holonet and discuss which Troopers kriff the best?"
"That is one way of putting it, yes."
" Dank farrik ," you laugh. You mean, the information that you've been curious about this entire time, has been on the holonet at your disposal? Idiot! Why didn't you simply search for it?
There's no denying that you're attracted to both your squad, and their regular brothers, and as always, curiosity wanders... At least some beings were smart enough to post their findings on the net, along with... whatever else might be on there. You make a mental note to check it out later!
"What were you doing on those sites?" you question, and decide to start working again, seeing as the plaster is slowly drying on your fingertips.
To your surprise, Tech's emotions remain calm as he mindlessly replies, "I was researching my... ahem, abnormality."
"I see..." you conclude. Curious for more, you take a gamble, and up your flirting game. "Has anybody started a thread for Clone Force 99?" you say with a soft purr, causing Tech's ears to perk up as blush begins to form across his cheeks.
"I..." Tech stutters. "Not that I am aware of, no," he says with a nervous chuckle.
Still with wet plaster on your hands, you put on a cheeky grin as you ask, "we could fill in the blank."
Your name comes stumbling out of Tech's mouth as all the heat in his body rises to his cheeks. "You cannot be serious!" He sweats, refusing to maintain eye contact. Nervous hands fiddle with the hemline of his shirt, wringing the fabric tightly in his bare palms, all whilst still attempting to cover up the topic in the room.
"I am," you say with a shrug. "I mean, I've just about seen yours," you gesture to his erection, hidden behind a thin layer of fabric, yet bold enough to make your imagination dance.
"M-Maker," Tech stutters once more. "Where are those pills?"
You laugh as Tech fumbles about with the pill bottle at his side, sliding another one out into the palm of his hand. He doesn't even bother swigging it down with water, dry swallowing the pill like an absolute mad man. "You do know those pills are to ease your pain, right?" you state whilst wrapping another layer around his leg.
"I am certainly in some form of pain. Although I am unsure of the exact type," he sighs, and finally takes a sip of water, correcting his prior mistake.
Biting back a laugh, you suggest, "painfully hard?"
Tech lets out a long and frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze as his shoulders drop in disappointment. "Hilarious," he sarcastically replies, pinching his brow in annoyance.
With a smirk on your lips, you boldly look down at his erection. "It sure seems like you are," you comment, then continue your focus on applying his cast, nearing the end. "You know, sexual pleasure can help ease the pain, and act as a good distraction," you hint, bringing the fact to light. If Tech wants more, then this is his opportunity to take it.
"As delightful as that sounds, penetration would be near impossible in my current state," he gestures to his leg, as if it couldn't be any more obvious.
"There are things that you can do besides penetration, Tech."
Whilst watching you apply the final layer, Tech moves a hand up, fingertips meeting his chin. His brows are furrowed, a sign that he's in deep thought. "You are correct," he hums, before crossing his arms across his chest. "Although I have to question if partaking in such an act will adjust our friendship, and our status within this squad."
"Only if you want it to," you respond, and begin cleaning up, allowing Tech's new cast to dry. "The way I see it, I'm just helping a friend out."
"Well, when you put it like that..." Tech ponders, shifting into deep thought.
Silence fills the air, and yet, you can practically hear Tech's brain ticking away. He's panning everything together, questioning every minor detail, move, motive. Sure, you are helping him out, but wouldn't this lead to other things? Would either of you catch feelings? Have you already caught feelings?
Tech's eyes flick between the pill bottle, and you. He studies you, letting out a soft hum as you tidy up, putting all your equipment away after washing your hands. "I can feel your gaze on me, Tech," you comment, not bothering to look up from your current task.
"Sorry," Tech exhales. "You do have a valid point. This... sexual favour would indeed assist in relieving my pain, yet I cannot accept such a gesture without reciprocating it."
"Let's say that you owe me one, and I can redeem it whenever I see fit," you suggest. You perch yourself on the edge of the medical bed, your form resting against Tech's undamaged thigh. Gently, you tap your fingertips on his cast, testing to see if the material has dried through. "You're all set. So, what do you say?" you offer with a raised brow.
Tech firmly shakes his head in agreement, "I accept your assistance."
"Great," you purr. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, instantly making the man beneath your palm nervous, and he doesn't bother to hide it. "But what do you want me to do, Tech?" you ask, drumming your fingertips against him.
Licking his lips, Tech's eyes wander down to where your hand is resting, before coming up to meet your alluring gaze. "Perhaps you... could possibly..."
"Spit it out," you tut.
"Just... touch me," Tech finally manages to spit his demands out, all whilst looking like he's about to faint. "Your hand alone will be more than suffice," he adds in an apologetic tone, as if he's embarrassed about what has just slipped from his lips.
Eager to see him burst, you ask, "do you want my mouth too?"
"Oh stars!"
Tech, the most calm, calculated, and captivating man that you've ever met, is currently turning into putty beneath your fingertips. You've not even touched him, well, at least not in that way, and he looks like he's about to ejaculate at any moment! Maybe it's the pain relief pills that he's taken, or maybe it's because he has a secret crush on you. The answer, you'll never know. All you can do is work with what you've got - a whimpering mess of a man.
"You don't have to answer that yet. Let's just start with my hand," you answer for him. Tech watches through his thick lenses as the hand on his chest begins to trail south, over his lower ribs, across his soft stomach, and now meeting his hips.
Gently, you rest your hand atop of his erection, and Tech just about moans at the minor contact. "I apologise," he sputters, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.
"Don't apologise, I want you to be vocal," you coo. "Well, maybe keep it down a bit, unless you want the others over-hearing?"
Tech shakes his head, then returns his eyes to watching the action. Your strokes are gentle, yet firm, the complete opposite of Tech's rising chest. Is he a virgin? Or has it been a while? Either way, you begin matching his pathetic state once his briefs are adjusted, and Tech's cock is finally free.
"Kriff," you whimper, eyeing up Tech in all his glory. Maker, you weren't expecting such a slender man to be packing so much heat! Sure, it looked rather large when hidden behind his briefs, but now it's here, throbbing in your hand.
You begin pumping his length, slow at first, until finding your rhythm. All the while, Tech is a panting mess, his gaze flicking between your expression, and what's happening between his legs. He all about caves when you slowly trail a blob of spit down onto his tip, lubricating his cock as you continue jerking it.
"This is going to be the death of me," Tech pants. His head rolls back to rest on the headboard, whilst his hands come up to hide his face. He groans into his palms, the odd muscle in his body twitching as pleasure washes through him. When Tech finally does remove his hands from his face, his goggles are on a slight tilt, and surprisingly, he doesn't bother fixing them.
"Oh?" you say with a quirked brow. "I can make things much worse."
"Do enlighten me," Tech suggests, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.
"How about I show you instead?"
All Tech can do is nod eagerly, yet he fails to prepare himself for what's about to come. (Or who's about to come.)
It's an awkward position, but after readjusting yourself to lie on your side, you manage to make do. Tech's eyes widen as you move your mouth closer to his cock, soon introducing your tongue to the tip. He moans your name, followed by a painful wince.
"Stop putting pressure on your thigh," you look up at him, cock in hand. "That defeats the purpose of my assistance."
In hindsight, you should have propped a pillow beneath his ankle, but something was preventing you from thinking rationally!
Tech mumbles a, "sorry," whilst looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what he wants, and who are you to deny it? You continue introducing your tongue to his tip, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the minor contact.
You soon find yourself sucking the tip, your hand working magic on the rest of his shaft. Already, there's an ache in your jaw, and you silently question how you're going to make this fit... No matter, you'll do what you can, and all efforts seem to be highly appreciated by Tech, who is reaching the state of debauchery as every second passes.
Through the chaos of spit and slobber, a tender hand comes out to rest on the back of your head. The other one finds your free hand, and Tech makes an effort of entwining his fingers with yours. You vocalise your appreciation to his gentle gesture by humming, only that causes Tech to stir. The sensation of vibrations running along his cock earns you another series of pathetic whimpers, and you, being the mischievous devil that you are, decide to only make things harder for him.
Slipping his cock from your lips, you continue pumping the shaft whilst your mouth wanders south. You slip one of his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on it. Tech's mind quite literally explodes! The hand on the back of your head grabs a fistful of your hair, although he is careful as to not hurt you. His other hand, however, removes itself from your palm to grip on the edge of the bed, a desperate attempt at steadying himself.
"Easy boy," you coo, before focusing on his other testicle.
"I c-can't..." Tech sputters. "I cannot hold on any longer, please," he whimpers, begging for what?
"Tell me what you need," you instruct.
"T-To finish... inside your mouth, if you'd be s-so kind," Tech blurts out, his thigh muscles twitching with want. So much for helping ease his pain, hm?
Removing your mouth from him, you peer up to meet his gaze. Tech's hair is askew, loose strands hanging forwards against his flushed face. Desperation is clear in his eyes, although it's laced with warmth and admiration. Tech was right, you two aren't just going to be friends after this, and quite honestly, you're fine with that.
"How can I ever deny you?" you flirt, earning a sigh from Tech. That sigh shifts into a moan as you slip your lips over his tip, and work your mouth to its limit.
Your name is on repeat, drifting from Tech's lips like a prayer. In the back of his mind, he's thanking this strange turn of events. If he wasn't in that war chest, then none of this would have happened, and the pain is most definitely worth it.
A few pumps of Tech's shaft, and he loses himself in the warmth of your mouth. Tech has to remove his hand from your hair to bite his knuckles, a poor attempt of silencing his final moans. The Marauder does not have soundproof walls, so you two will need to come up with a story for when you finally decide to enter the medical wing, and regroup with the Batch.
"Thank you," Tech repeats, over and over, panting as if he's just run a marathon. He looks exhausted, yet you're the one doing all the hard work!
After removing your mouth from his tip, you swallow his load, which only causes Tech to fall even deeper into admiration. "How do you feel?" you ask whilst grabbing the glass of water, left forgotten on the workbench besides the medical bed.
"Euphoric," Tech responds without missing a beat. "The pain was worth it," he adds.
"Are you still in pain?" you ask, offering him what's left of the water.
He swiftly responds, "no," before downing the rest. "You seemed to have worked wonders on me," Tech comments.
You let out a soft chuckle, and rise to your feet, eager to get out of the awkward position. After wiping your mouth dry with a towel, you assist in cleaning Tech up, not that he needs it. It's his leg that's fractured, not his cock, but you're too sweet on the poor man. "You need rest," you comment as you tuck his cock away, putting his unit to bed within the confinement of his briefs.
Tech ponders, and only now does he straighten out his wonky goggles. "I have already asked so much of you, but I have one last request."
"Let's hear it?"
"I... require some assistance with getting to my bunk," Tech sheepishly asks, earning a laugh from you.
"Of course I'll help you with that!"
It's quite the task, seeing as Tech has the upper hand when it comes to height, but you manage to help him to his feet, swinging an arm across your neck for extra stability. You turn to leave the medical wing, until something crosses your mind. Gesturing to the pain relief pills, you state, "you'll probably be needing these."
A smug grin creeps over Tech's lips. "Oh, I don't think I will," he flirts. This time, you're the one blushing, yet you agree with his statement.
Hobbling down the Marauder, Tech's cabin soon comes to your reach, and before you know it, you're helping him into bed. Thank the Maker that the others have retired for the night, hopefully none of them heard that!
After removing Tech's shirt, a pillow is placed under his ankle, providing extra comfort throughout the night. You retrieve him a glass of water, re-entering his cabin to see that he's tucked himself under the covers, his goggles lying on the bedside table.
"Do you need anything else?" you offer, soon expecting to be in your own bunk. It has been a long day, and you're oh-so-eager for your own rest.
"Actually, I was thinking..." Tech trails off, which causes you to raise your brow. "Surely you should spend the night here with me? You know, in case I require support throughout the night-"
"-I know what you're hinting at, Tech," you say with a light laugh, shaking your head at him. "You don't need an excuse, but sure, we can use that when the others ask why I'm leaving your cabin tomorrow morning."
Tech chuckles, watching eagerly as you strip down into your underwear, soon joining him in bed. You're greeted by his stretched out arm, offering you a cuddle, which you gladly accept, all whilst keeping his injury in mind.
"Goodnight, Tech," you exhale, resting your hand on his chest as your head finds its place within the curve of his neck.
"Goodnight," Tech repeats, holding you tightly.
"And remember, I owe you..."