Kalli's LiveJournal

Staff Information!
Hit Banners & Awards!

Contact Info

drabble

Albel was on his way back from a thankfully-unsupervised trip to empty his bladder when he first heard the voices. For a brief second, he thought he'd been followed after all and was about to yell that he could really take care of himself when he realized that one of the voices was not one he should be hearing.

The concept of 'program' was still a little fuzzy, though he wouldn't admit it - at least not the concept of 'program' in the sense that there were still things in his world that were created by an outside force solely for one task (though it did explain at least a handful of people he'd met in his life).

Yet, as he peered around a corner into a deep chamber, he was positive that he'd encountered the worst possible lingering programs that had ever been created. The one that sounded, and looked, like Fate was on his knees, seemingly uncaring about anything else in the world other than a dead-on version of Luther.

Albel clenched both of his fists, but he didn't look away - not when he heard not-Fate call the other man 'Master'. And not when he realized that not-Fate was quite eagerly moving away not-Luther's clothing and pawing at him as though...

Perhaps there was nothing else in the world for either of them.

He tried to deny the response in his own body for as long as he could, before letting his real hand slide down to ease a bit of the building pressure. Every few seconds, Albel could catch the faintest glimpse of skin and not-Fate's mouth, but mostly he could hear them and not-Luther's crude encouragement.

Albel knew it was the sort of thing he shouldn't be watching and would not normally be interested in. However, he'd gotten to know Fate - he was traveling with the man.

And if the man was anything like the program...

As quietly as he could, Albel turned and headed back towards the camp he'd made with the real Fate to test a new and interesting theory.