The SS Rare Pair now has a ship name. A little bit longer this time - Alan and Brandon got a little friendly so minor smut warning ahead.
Thanks to @willow-salix for many notes and prods. @ak47stylegirl big brother makes an appearance but you will need to wait for bit 4 for the fallout, I absolutely loved your sketch though.
Bit 1 is here, Bit 2
Bit 3
“So did you kids have fun today?”
Alan facepalmed, “I’m not twelve years old any more, or have you forgotten I can fly a Thunderbird.”
Scott smirked from his place at the controls, well aware of the embarrassment emanating from the crew seats behind him, or at least the one containing Alan. There was just something about being able to wind up younger brothers that made it one of life’s simple pleasures. “No, but at the moment you’re getting a lift in my ‘bird. So, little brother, how was your day?”
“It was great, Scott. Real great.” Once Scott got into dad mode Alan knew he wouldn’t be appeased without an answer, the problem was he still had a lot of unanswered questions of his own about the day.
“Show some enthusiasm, why don’t you? You’ve been bugging me about this Expo for weeks.”
However, it was Brandon that launched in with the rundown of the day, or at least an edited version of it. There was something about travelling at supersonic speeds that always got him hyped up and energetic. “It was, like, totally awesome. We got to try all the new tech and Alan here totally rocked on the flight simulator.”
Scott gave a chuckle. “I should hope so. Can’t have you doing anything that might show International Rescue in a bad light and failing on a flight simulator would just about cover it.”
Alan tried to sink lower in his seat; a futile task given there was a safety harness holding him firmly in place. He wondered what sort of light was cast by him and Brandon kissing for the cameras. He just hoped any coverage stayed within reports about the Expo where Scott was unlikely to see it otherwise he sensed a lecture on PR obligations as a minimum.
The merciful thing about flying in Thunderbird One was that even when Scott wasn’t punching it a flight never took a long time. Within minutes they were on final approach, the pool retracting to give them entry to the underground hangers.
“Dinner’s at seven” Scott announced as he started post flight checks, “so don’t be late, I know what you can be like if you get too involved in a game.”
It was a clear enough dismissal and Alan and Brandon took it as their cue to leave. They made their way through to the upper levels of the villa and along to Alan’s room as normal, Brandon babbling away about the various games they had tried and how he needed to stitch together some footage for his vlog. It was as though he needed to keep the air filled with noise, there was just no let up.
Once in Alan’s room Brandon made his way over to the desk and Alan followed after, hovering behind the chair while Brandon made himself comfy. Now that they were finally alone, something he had been trying to achieve ever since Brandon had pulled his stunt after the snowboarding, he was lost for words, unable to broach the topic that had been bugging him for hours or months if he examined his deeper feelings.
“Mind if I get get these vlog posts sorted?” Brandon asked, not stopping to wait for an answer before booting up Alan’s computer. “Got to keep on top of my media presence and give the viewers what they want. We can’t all of us rely on other people doing something stupid to stay in business.”
Alan’s thoughts were in turmoil. Brandon was acting as if absolutely nothing had happened between them. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew there was video evidence out there to back him up he might have started to doubt that the whole thing had ever happened. Did Brandon just want to forget it? Did it mean absolutely nothing and this was a sign that Brandon just didn’t care for him in that way?
With Brandon’s back turned towards him, settled in front of the now glowing screens, Alan found it a little earlier to find his voice. There was something about looking into Brandon’s eyes that sent him tongue tied, but faced with the back of his head Alan was able to draw on some of that courage that marked him out as a Thunderbird. As they say, if you don’t ask you won’t know, and he’d had enough of not knowing. “Is that what today was? Giving the viewers what they want?” The words were spat out with rather more venom than Alan intended as he tried to keep a check on his feelings, hurt that his friend would use him as a way to boost his ratings and grab the limelight.
Brandon’s shoulders slumped slightly but he didn’t turn around, not daring to face those startling blue eyes that could knock him sideways. Not wanting to see their usual kindness turned to hate. He might have all the bravado and swagger in front of the camera but without an audience to play to he felt all his courage ebbing away. It was only because the damn cameras had been rolling that he’d felt able to make a move in the first place. It was a decision he was now regretting and he wished the floor would swallow him up; anything to stop him being alone in Alan Tracy’s bedroom.
He wished that whole sorry moment had never happened but self-control had never been his strong point when he knew the world was watching. With his arm slung around his friend that adorable smile that made him glow every time he saw it had been too much to resist and buoyed by the Dutch courage given to by a rolling film he’d acted on the thoughts he’d been harbouring for too long.
“You...you’d...kiss me as some stupid stunt for the media?”
Almost alone.
The venom had been replaced by hurt and Brandon winced internally at the thought of having ruined a perfectly good friendship by overstepping the mark. Hurting Alan had been the last thing he wanted but it looked like the damage was done and lying wasn’t going to make it any better; honesty was a big thing in the Tracy household and he’d rather tell Alan the truth than leave him thinking he’d just played him to gain subscribers.
“Is that what you want it to be? Just a stunt? Cos we can call it that if you want but I like you Alan...really like you.”
There was silence between them as Alan tried to process that answer, the response certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. There was no ‘It’ll be great for the ratings’ or ‘Lighten up and live a little’, not even a ‘Gotta give the fans something to buzz about’.
As the seconds stretched into eternity Brandon spun the chair and finally met Alan’s eye, trying to convey that for once in his life he was serious.
“You do? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Not very good with words, I’m more an actions kinda guy.”
“And you thought slamming your face into mine in front of the cameras was the right way to let me know?”
“No, I get it, I screwed up. I wanted to talk to you at the Expo, talk properly, but I just had such a buzz and there you were and….urgh…put me in front of a camera and I can’t help doing dumb stuff. See, you’re the smart one, I just ruin everything. I’m sorry it happened.”
He expected the anger to return, expected to be told to get ready to leave the island and get out of Alan’s life.
“I’m not. I just imagined our first kiss to be a little more private, that’s all.”
Alan looked at the upturned face that he’d spent far too long lusting over. Brandon has been first an idol and latterly a friend after fates and rescues thrust them together but Alan had never dared to act on his hopes that one say they could be more than friends. The Bear, with his brash confidence and a partner in every ski resort, was everything he wasn’t with his sheltered island existence. Now though, those delicious chocolate brown eyes were marred by worry suggesting that the confidence part might not be true.
“Can we start over? Maybe do things your way?”
Alan swallowed nervously, eyes fixed on the mouth that seemed to be drawing him in like a magnet. He leant forward hesitantly, worried about screwing things up, all the times he’d played through this moment in his head suddenly seemed poor preparation for the reality. Brandon leant forward to meet him and their lips brushed gently. It was the polar opposite of the crushing assault of the Expo but it still left Alan tingling as he pulled away a moment later.
“So, are we good?”
Alan felt Brandon’s hands reach out and take hold of his hips, gently pulling him forwards until he was sat straddled across his lap. “I think we’re more than good, rocket boy.”
Alan smiled as a warm glow filled him. He leant in again, a little more confidently this time, continuing the kiss that he now knew they both welcomed. A warm tongue swiped across his lips and he readily granted entry, happy to let Brandon take the lead as he gave in to the desires that until now had only been played out in his head.
He ran his hands through Brandon’s hair and was rewarded with a stirring beneath him that suggested Brandon enjoyed the feeling very much indeed. His own body tensed in response, the sensation sent his head into overdrive but this was unknown territory and he was both nervous and excited about where things might lead.
Sensing the tension Brandon broke off from the kiss. “You okay?” He worried that the young Tracy was already having regrets, his actions were so chaste and not at all like the fans Brandon was used to relieving his frustrations with. But then this was pretty different for him too, it wasn’t often that he had feelings invested in these encounters.
“I’m fine,” Alan’s hands dropped to his shoulders, suddenly finding the floor very interesting, “this is all just a little new.” He flushed slightly at the admission of his inexperience.
Realisation hit that it wasn’t just the concept of ‘them’ that was new to Alan. “Oh...you mean?” The sight of Alan biting nervously on his lower lip, unable to meet his eye, gave him silent acknowledgement.
“Not a lot of opportunity when you're related to everyone on the island.” There, he’d said it. Brandon was probably going to think he was a right idiot.
Brandon’s fingers skittered upwards along the line of Alan’s ribs, breaking the tension and causing him to squirm. “Damn you’re cute when you blush. How the hell did I get so lucky?”
“You don’t mind?”
“No, why would I?” Brandon snorted, “But we can take things slow if you want.”
In answer he found Alan’s hands tangled in his hair again, the fingers carding through, nails gently scratching against his scalp in a way that had him moaning. He might be a novice but he was a quick learner. Teeth clashed together as both decided at the same moment that they’d had enough of talking.
Brandon’s own hands roved upwards, sliding under the hem of Alan’s t-shirt, rucking up the material as they travelled up his back, strong fingers tracing up the line of his spine causing Alan to shiver in delight. The shirt suddenly felt far too warm and constricting, his skin yearning for more touch and the material was just a hindrance to that. He broke the kiss for a moment and leant back slightly.
"Mind if I…?" he let the question hang unfinished but the intention was clear as he grasped the hem, pausing for an answer.
"Whatever you want is good with me, rocket boy. We can stop this at any time though, just say the word."
A moment later and Alan was ripping the hem upwards, getting slightly tangled in his haste to shuck the garment off.
The sight of the exposed torso normally covered by a shirt or encased in body armour, stretched out in front of him and showing off every sculpted muscle, brought out the devil Brandon and he planted a kiss on the bare chest then flicked a tongue over a nipple in a way that had the sensitive bud stiffening in an instant. He worried that he’d gone too far and messed things up again but the burning eyes that met his own when Alan had finally freed himself and thrown the shirt to the floor showed that Alan’s mind had clearly gone to the same place his had.
For Alan the feeling of Brandon touching him, kissing him, was awakening all his senses and setting his nerve endings on fire. His body was crying out for more and all thoughts of taking it slow were long gone. Even the undercurrent of fear of doing or saying the wrong thing had been fairly successfully shoved to the back of his mind.
Brandon remembered his own early experiences, the flood of hormones finally getting a chance at release and that overwhelming desire to touch and be touched. It could be so easy to take advantage but he didn't want Alan to end up with any regrets. He wanted this to be a relationship that meant something, not one that turned sour with broken trust. He'd crashed into Alan's life, literally, and then Alan had crashed into his heart in a way he had never expected; he really didn't want to mess this up. One thing he knew for sure though, the chair really wasn't designed for two.
"Al," he mumbled into Alan's collar bone as he trailed kisses from neck to shoulder, "can we move somewhere more comfortable?" Alan's slender form might be light but he was still starting to lose circulation to his legs.
"Oh God, am I hurting you?" Alan pulled away, the devastation etched across his face.
His concern was touching and Brandon was quick to give a reassuring grin. "I'm fine, honest. I just thought we could have more fun over there," he nodded towards the bed, "but only if you want to."
Sliding backwards off his lap, Alan pulled Brandon upright and allowed Brandon to lead him the few steps towards the bed. He sat down and watched wide eyed as Brandon pulled off his own shirt before joining him.
Alan shyly reached out and stroked the exposed skin, tracing his fingers down Brandon's sternum, ghosting fingers around the outlines of pecs honed by years climbing mountains and riding the slopes. He still couldn't quite believe that this was happening, that Brandon could be interested in him in this way.
Brandon sat there, enjoying the sensations as Alan explored, that was until Alan raked his nails against his scalp again and primal instincts kicked in. They tumbled back onto the mattress, Alan ending up bottom of the pile, pinned down the Bear. Hungry mouths sought each other out again and hands roved, driven by pure lust. Brandon ground his hips downwards and Alan could clearly feel the solid bulge which matched his own. Even through several layers of material the feeling was enough to white out Alan’s thoughts for a moment and he gasped as his whole body felt electrified.
Neither heard the door.
The voice that cut across the room was stern, causing their heads to whip round in shock. Twin blushes formed at being caught, almost literally, with their pants down.
“Alan, Brandon, get dressed. You’re late for dinner.”
The commander of International Rescue did not look impressed.
