Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Tracys look out for each other	By : Tesekian Category: S through Z > Thunderbirds Views: 7097 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Tracys look out for each other
- 2-Celebration
- 1
- 2
Scott wasn't hugely surprised to be called to his father's study after breakfast. As the eldest son, he had a lot of responsibilities and was the one their father tended to turn to if he had a difficult decision to make or was worried about something. Father was definitely worried today, his entire body was tense as he sat behind his desk.
"You wanted to see me, Father." He was waved into the seat across from the desk. That was a bad sign. Often, when it was just the two of them, Father would move to one of the armchairs or the couch that furnished the spacious office.
"I'm worried about Alan," Father admitted. If he was worried about one of his sons, it was usually Alan. Alan the baby, Alan the irresponsible, Alan the troublemaker. But Scott couldn't think of anything that Alan had done recently that would be the cause for concern. On the contrary, he'd been putting in extra effort in his schoolwork and they'd stopped getting phone calls from teachers complaining about not paying attention in lessons.
"I think Alan's being bullied," Father went on. A spark of fear at the back of Scott's mind threatened to start a blaze of panic.
"Well, there's always been a little teasing," Scott dismissed, "He's smart and other kids resent it. Alan's always managed to cope."
"I think this is more serious," Father took a deep breath, "I don't want you to discuss this with your brothers," the spark of fear caught light and Father's words fanned the flames, "but I think it might be physical. You remember how distracted he was at dinner last night?" Scott nodded, "Well, I went into his room to see if he was alright, and he had his shirt off. His back was a mass of bruises. He'd been beaten badly, Scott."
Scott was definitely afraid now: for Alan . . . and for himself. Father must have seen the fear on Scott's face, but he would naturally translate it into concern for a younger sibling. He wouldn't guess, wouldn't even consider, that one of his sons might be responsible for Alan's bruises.
"Did he say anything?" Scott asked, trying to maintain his composure.
Father shook his head. "No. He didn't even attempt to offer an explanation. Frankly, he looked terrified that I'd seen the bruises and pulled a shirt on before I could get a good look."
"Maybe," Scott tried to sound hopeful, "if you didn't get a good look, it isn't as bad as it seemed." But Scott had had a good look and knew precisely how bad it was. There was no way Father would buy it.
"It was bad, Scott. Someone had purposefully and brutally beaten him. Since there weren't any bruises or marks anywhere else, I can only assume that Alan wasn't in a position to fight back."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I hoped that he might speak to you, even if he won't tell me what's going on."
"I doubt it," Scott answered, "but I can try talking to him about it."
"If he won't tell us what's going on, I don't know what else we can do. We could try pho his his school, see if they can keep an eye out for him."
"He'd probably resent it if you tried that."
"I'd rather he resented me than got hurt. Unless you've a better suggestion for getting him to open up?"
Scott thought for several moments. He didn't think it was likely that Alan would tell anyone. Still, there was one suggestion he could make.
"Trust is a two-way street," he said, "Maybe if you showed him that you trust him, then he'll be more willing to trust you."
Father could see where Scott was going, and didn't look pleased with the journey. "You think I should let him go on missions? If someone's been hurting him, then how can we be sure he won't do himself serious damage on a mission? Especially if he refuses to tell us when he's in pain."
"I'm not saying you should send him on every mission. There are some that are less taxing than others are. Some where he'd probably do nothing but sit behind Virgil in Thunderbird 2 and watch. Only send him if you don't think he'll be in danger."
"I'll think about it."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What did Father want to speak to you about?" Virgil looked up from where he was practising the piano as Scott came into the lounge. Alan was lying stretched out on the floor, a large piece of paper forming the base for a poster on language change. Most of the work was done, so all Alan had to do now was glue the pictures and pieces of text onto the background.
"Oh, just stuff," Scott dismissed. Alan didn't buy that for a minute. Father wouldn't have sent for Scott unless it was serious and Alan had a very good idea what it might be.
"I'm going for a walk," Scott went on, "feel like coming, Alan?" Alan definitely knew what it was about now. There was no way Virgil would accept that this wasn't something important, since none of them interrupted Alan when he was actually doing his homework.
"Sure, why not?" Alan tried to sound casual as he stood. He schooled his features so that they didn't show any pain as the loose material of his shirt rubbed against the bruises and abrasions on his back.
"What did Dad say?" Alan asked, once they were well out of earshot of the house, walking down towards the beach.
"He's worried about you," Scott answered, "He thinks you're being bullied by someone at school."
Alan breathed out a relieved sigh. That lie was better, so much better, than Father even suspecting the truth. God, this was such a mess. He shouldn't have been so careless, taking off his shirt when the rest of the family were still around. He just couldn't bear the material rubbing at his painful back for another moment. He could at least have gone into the bathroom where he could lock the door or taken any of a number of precautions to protect their secret.
"I'm so sorry, Scott."
"Don't be!" Scott pulled Alan into a hug, arms resting gently over Alan's back, careful not to press. Alan returned the hug, clinging onto Scott in the way he always had. Despite their differences, or perhaps because of them, the two brothers had been close for as long as Alan could remember. They had always given each other comfort, but now the comfort was of a more physical sort.
"This isn't your fault, Alan," Scott assured him, "This was bound to happen sooner or later. We just need to figure out what to do."
They sat down on a large rock, side by side. In front of them, the ocean stretched away to the horizon, gleaming sapphire beneath the sun. Behind them, the jungle rose up the slope of the island, dark and forbidding. The sand of the beach was clean and unspoiled; a paradise of relaxation. But they couldn't relax. Alan leaned slightly against Scott, staring at the ocean and wondering. Was this the moment when they should tell their family? Should they reveal their strange relationship to the others?
But Alan knew that the idea terrified Scott even more than it did him. With his position of respect and responsibility, in the family and in International Rescue, Scott had so much more to lose than Alan did. While Scott stared death in the face every other day aboard his Thunderbird, he was scared witless by the very idea of revealing what they had so carefully hidden for over a year.
"Dad's not going to stop until he finds out the truth," Alan said, "not if he thinks I'm in danger."
"So we just have to convince him you're not in danger."
"And how the hell are we meant to do that?"
Scott thought for a while, his forehead creased in concentration. Alan simply waited, knowing that Scott's greater experience of their father was the only hope for sorting this out. Besides, as the responsible, trusted member of the family, Scott probably had a much better chance of convincing their father of anything.
"I go back to the house and say that you've refused to tell me what's going on," Scott said at last, "but that you told me it's something you need to sort out on your own. You spend the rest of the weekend looking worried and distracted. When anyone asks you what's wrong, just say that you're thinking."
"OK, that shouldn't be too hard, since I am worried and distracted."
Scott managed a smile at the weak joke. "When you come back from school for next weekend, be in a really, really good mood. Don't give a reason for it, just be cheerful and happy. If Dad asks about the bruises, just say that he doesn't need to worry about them."
"And Dad'll think that I've sorted out what was going on?"
"Hopefully. If he doesn't seem too convinced, see if you can persuade Fermat to make some comment about a couple of boys from your school being suspended. Not so that the link we want him to make is obvious . . ."
". . . but so that Dad can draw his own conclusions and think that I've managed to bring a group of bullies into the open."
"The next few weeks, it might be a good idea to spend time in the pool. Not so much as to be suspicious, but enough to prove you've not got any bruises to hide."
"You'd better make sure I don't get any then," Alan grinned mischievously at his brother.
"Think it'll work?" Scott asked.
"I haven't got a better plan."
They stood and began walking slowly back to the house. As they did so, an idea occurred to Alan.
"If Dad thinks I'm capable of solving my own problems without help," he said, "do you think he'd consider letting me help with other people's?"
"Don't push it," Scott grinned, "Dad'll let you up in the Thunderbirds when he thinks you're ready." But Alan was good at reading his brother and suspected that there was something he wasn't saying.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What have you done this time?" Fermat was standing in the doorway of Alan's room as Alan shoved books and folders into his bag. Alan made a show of checking he had his essay in the English folder just so that he didn't have to turn round and look Fermat in the eye.
"I haven't done anything," Alan answered. It was actually true, more or less.
"Right," Fermat didn't sound convinced, "so your father s s asks for Scott and Scott takes you for a quiet t t chat and there's no reason?"
"Strange as it may sound, it is possible for Scott and me to have a civilised conversation that doesn't involve a lecture on my irresponsible behaviour. Have you seen my physics text book?"
"It's on your desk." Alan grabbed the book and shoved it in the bag with the rest. While he liked coming home on weekends, it did involve a lot of carting heavy books around.

"If "If there was something w wrong, you'd tell me?"
"Of course," Alan actually met Fermat's gaze to say that. His friend sounded concerned for him.
"Good."
There was no way it was an accident. Fermat's friendly slap on Alan's back caught him right on the worst of his bruises. Most of the others had stopped hurting already, but that one caused a sharp gasp of pain as Fermat's palm met it. Fermat's expression contained both enquiry and accusation as he looked at Alan.
"It's not what it looks like," Alan said. He sat down on his bed and Fermat sat next to him, clearly waiting for an explanation. Alan didn't know what else to say. He trusted Fermat with his life but he couldn't tell him this. It could tear their family apart, destroy the Thunderbirds, make Fermat and his brothers hate him.
"I'm not b b stupid, Alan," Fermat gave up on waiting for answers, "there are days when your so careful changing for sp sp PE not to let your skin show at all. They're not often but I n n see them. When they come, they're at the st st beginning of the week, after we've been home."
"Please, Fermat," Alan begged, "you can't tell anyone."
"Is it one of your brothers?"
"It's not what it looks like," Alan stressed the negative, "Tracys look out for each other."
"Then what's going on, Alan?" When Alan failed to answer, Fermat stood and made his way to the door with an exasperated sound.
"You won't tell?"
"Tell what? You haven't told me anything to tell. I thought we could trust each other, Alan."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next week at school was a nightmare for Alan. Fermat was either ignoring him, or pestering him to explain what was going on. Alan wasn't sure which was worse, since either way Fermat seemed hurt and betrayed. On top of that, Alan had to endure teasing about the dream couple having split up and several phone calls from Father trying to understand. He didn't seem to believe Alan's comments about being able to look after himself and that he was sorting the problem.
The concerned look on his dad's face was probably the worst thing about the situation. He was really worried. Alan almost wanted to tell him, to let him know that he had nothing to worry about. Alan was probably safer when he was being bruised and beaten than any other time in his life.
But it might split up the family. It might destroy what little trust Dad had in him. It might make them stop trusting Scott.
Whatever happened, Alan wouldn't let Scott get hurt.
On Friday, he did his best at pretending to be cheerful. Fermat noticed and was giving Alan some puzzled looks throughout the day. At last, the end of lessons came round and Alan grabbed his bag of homework and was waiting at the school entrance with the few others who went home at weekends. Fermat was standing next to him, but with enough of a gap between them to show that he was still mad at Alan.
Dad himself came to pick them up, which was a rarity. Usually it was Penny or one of Alan's brothers now that Alan and Fermat went home most weekends. They still didn't go out on missions, but they were closer than they had been before to it.
As Dad got out of the car to help Alan and Fermat with their bags, Alan met his concerned expression with a wide grin. The bruises were gone now, so he had no worries about hugging Dad, since the pressure on his back wouldn't cause any pain.
"Are you alright?" Dad asked, meaning the question sincerely, rather than as a common greeting.
"I'm great," Alan grinned at him. There was a long pause, then Dad smiled.
"I'm glad to hear it," but there was still a hint of uncertainty about his expression. Still, it looked like Dad might be buying it, so Alan's smile became more genuine. Fermat looked at Alan sidelong, but Alan could guess that he wasn't going to say anything.
"Did anything interesting happen at school?" Dad asked, once the car was underway.
"It's school," Alan replied, "it's not meant to be interesting."
Dad tried a couple more times to find out what had happened at school that week, but gave up after Alan answered one of them with a complex debate over how androcentric the English language was, bringing in a few dates and the names of some linguists. He couldn't remember which linguists had studied this aspect of the language, so he just used whichever names he could remember.
Alan wasn't sure if he could maintain his happy fa�ade if he was quiet, so he made sure that there was a constant chatter going on in the car. He brought up any subject that came to mind in the effort to keep conversation going. Whenever possible, and at even the lightest joke, he would laugh. It seemed Dad might be believing in the act, but he still asked Alan into his study as soon as they got home, leaving Kyrano to deal with the bags.
"Alan?" Dad asked, once they were alone, "Why won't you talk to me?"
"We were talking all the way home," Alan answered.
"Not about anything important. I saw the marks on your back, Alan. Are you in trouble? Are you being bullied?"
Alan's smile was almost genuine. "I can honestly say that I'm not."
"Then how do you explain the bruises? Please, Alan, I only want to help you."
"If I told you I was being bullied, what would you do? You'd phone the school. You'd speak to the teachers. You'd demand that they sort it out. What would that say about me?"
"That people are willing to do anything to protect you."
"No! You don't understand. It would say that I can't look after myself. Do you really think that anyone would leave me alone after that? I had to end it myself, in my own way, or else I couldn't be sure that it would be over for good."
"How did you end it? You didn't hurt them back?"
Alan was genuinely shocked that his father could think he'd do anything like that. No matter the provocation, he wouldn't stoop to the same level as bullies. What he did with Scott didn't count, since Scott enjoyed it as much as he did.
"No!" he exclaimed. "How can you think that?"
"I'm sorry," Dad answered, "It was a foolish question." There was a pause, during which Dad looked closely at Alan with such concern in his eyes that Alan felt guilty about skirting around the truth as he was doing.
"It really is over?" Dad asked.
Alan couldn't answer that directly without lying. "No bullies will be hurting me. You don't have to worry."
"I'm your father, it's my job to worry."
"Well, this is one thing you don't have to worry about."
"It's good to know that, whatever happens, you'll be able to look after yourself." Dad looked at Alan with such a look of pride and love that Alan couldn't help but be touched by it. He flung his arms around Dad.
"I love you, Dad."
Dad chuckled slightly, returning the hug, "I don't get teenagers."
After a few moments, Dad broke the hug and told Alan, "You'd better make a start on your homework."
Alan gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir," and almost danced out of the room. Dad wasn't going to be worrying about him, their secret was safe and Scott was sure to have an interesting weekend planned for them to celebrate. Things were looking good.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scott watched Alan through dinner. He was playing the part brilliantly, acting cheerful and good-humoured. He responded to the teasing about his mood by saying that it wasn't illegal to be happy. His complaints when he was sent off to do his homework were there, but tempered by his grins.
Scott kept glancing at Father. It certainly seemed that he was convinced by Alan's act. Scott felt himself starting to relax for the first time all week. He'd been more nervous and tense than when they were on a mission. Hopefully Alan would help cure that. He let himself smile and began to join in the cheerful banter that was being batted around the dinner table. This was the way their family should always be.
That night, he was just drifting to sleep, when the opening of his door brought him fully awake. The house was silent except for the soft padding of footsteps across the carpet. Golden hair gleamed in the moonlight that was creeping round the curtains, and Alan knelt beside his bed.
"You're sure?" Scott asked in a barely audible whisper. "This way?" A nod, almost invisible in the darkness, was all the answer he was given or needed. Scott stood and headed to his wardrobe to get some clothes. Alan left the room as silently as he had come and Scott knew that he had gone to prepare.
It wasn't long before Scott followed him, out of the house and down towards the shore. He walked along the edge of the beach, just inside the tree line. Soon, the sand gave way to rocks and Scott was clambering over a hidden path to a concealed cave. It had been an accident that they'd found this place and, hidden as it was, it was extremely unlikely that any of their brothers would come across it. They'd brought supplies out here gradually over the past year and now it was well stocked with anything they might need.
When Scott arrived, Alan was already kneeling in the centre of the cave. He was completely naked, his eyes cast down to the floor. Scott just stood for a while, taking in the wonderful sight before him. Alan's skin was softly tanned, his muscles toned by exercise and his hair a halo of gold around his face. Scott knelt down in front of Alan and their lips met for a brief kiss as Scott fastened the collar around Alan's neck.
"Lie down," Scott ordered, "on your back." Alan went to the arrangement of cushions and blankets that formed a bed in the corner. Scott let Alan wait and anticipate, while he searched the assortment of items that were stored here. At last, when he knew that Alan must be itching with the desire to move, to do something, Scott went to their make-shift bed and knelt astrilan,lan, placing various items on the floor beside them.
"We can't leave a mark on this beautiful body, now can we," Scott purred and trailed a silk scarf up Alan's chest. He could feel Alan tensing beneath him, trying not to move as the soft material tickled him. Scott took Alan's right arm and tied the scarf, loosely but securely, around the wrist, tying the other end of the scarf to the wall.
Alan's climbing equipment had been put to an interesting use in here. Friends, devices usually used to hold a climber's rope to the cliff, were driven into the wall of the cave at strategic points. The ingenious little pieces of technology were designed to fit into holes and cracks and to pull tighter the more they were tugged on. But still, even tied up, Alan would be able to pull the trigger to release them with only minor difficulty. For all the appearance of being trapped, Alan would be able to free himself if it became necessary.
Still, as Alan's left wrist was treated similarly, it seemed that he was completely at Scott's mercy. Scott had been feeling out of control all week, he'd been so nervous about Father finding out, that he needed to be in charge here to regain his focus. Alan had been right. Alan was always right about what Scott needed. Smiling at his trusting brother, Scott leant down again to kiss him once more. Alan responded to the gentle, loving kiss, but let Scott lead. Tonight, Scott was master.
Scott noted the suppressed groan as he pulled away from the kiss. Scott let the third scarf trail down Alan's body, brushing over the hardened nipples. Alan's jaw was clenched shut from the effort of making no sound, and he was straining against his restraints as Scott played the scarf over that sensitive area.
Scott moved down so that he was sitting across Alan's thighs, dragging the scarf over the eager erection. Alan was struggling beneath him, trying to get enough friction on the swollen cock. Scott could sympathise: his own erection was painful inside his pants. They couldn't rush things. Neither would get much benefit if they gave in to their need now.
So Scott looped the scarf around the base of Alan's erection, tight enough to prevent him coming, but not so tight as to do any damage. Scott was impressed that Alan kept back the groan of disappointment. He supposed it was because Alan was reasonably certain that any play in the cave would end in them both getting what they wanted.
Scott let his hands and mouth play now. His fingers tweaked at Alan's nipples, making him arch his back, his wrists twisting and tugging against their bonds. Scott licked at one of the hard nubs, then blew on it. The cold on the sensitive area was too much, and Alan did let out a moan. It was only soft, but it was enough.
"Quietly now," Scott whispered, "or I might leave you this way." With Alan's cock swollen and desperate as it was, that was a serious threas Scs Scott trailed fingers up the erect flesh, Alan shuddered and his eyes squeezed shut with the effort to maintain control.
Scott touched his lips ever so gently to each eyelid in turn theispeispered the command, between nibbles to Alan's ear lobe, for Alan to open his eyes. Alan did so, clear blue, heavy with lust, staring up at Scott. Alan had needed to stay in control all day. In control of every word and expression, just in case Father noticed that something was going on. Now he needed to let go. To release that control, somewhere safe.
Scott reached to one side, to collect a soft gag. He held it over Alan's face and waited. Alan only had to consider for a moment, then he kissed the implement and opened his mouth to accept it. Scott fastened it around Alan's head, knowing that it would do little more than muffle Alan's cries. Still, silence wasn't the point. The point of the gag was to give Alan permission to make those cries, to let go completely of the control he kept over himself.
Scott spread Alan's legs apart and positioned himself to kneel between them. Making sure that Alan could see everything, he slowly peeled off his own clothes. Alan's breathing was fast and erratic, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, as Scott slowly exposed himself to that desperate, blue gaze. It seemed to take an eternity for Scott to divest the last item of clothing, but he wanted to make the moment last. He knew that Alan, had he been free, probably would have torn everything off in a heartbeat, such was the state he was in.
Scott smiled his slow smile and ran his hands up Alan's thighs. The skin was hot beneath him and Alan's member, despite its restraints, was hard and straining for release. Scott very gently licked at the precum that was leaking out, sending a shiver through Alan's body. Deciding to make Alan more desperate, Scott ran his tongue up the length of swollen flesh. Alan's moans, despite the gag, seemed to echo around the cave.
Scott quickly lubed up his fingers with the tube beside them and slid one beneath Alan and into him. Alan looked as though he might be biting the gag in two as he fought the initial discomfort and then relaxed around Scott's touch. Despite his endurance of pain in other areas, Alan always liked to be prepared. Scott slowly and carefully slid the second finger in, pushing in deeply to find Alan's prostate.
Alan's groans had transformed into a repeated sound that was almost distinguishable through the gag as a plea. Scott's third finger joined the other two more quickly as he stretched the opening. Alan was now moving in front of him, trying to drive himself onto those invading fingers so that they'd find his prostate again. Scott decided to indulge him, and let his fingers brush against the gland several times in succession, making Alan writhe so magnificently that Scott wasn't sure he could hold out any longer.
Scott lifted Alan's legs to expose the entrance and then thrust his erection in. He waited for Alan to adjust before he began moving, thrusting repeatedly inside. Alan was crying and moaning into the gag as his prostate was attacked. When Scott knew he was moments away from coming, he pulled loose the scarf around Alan's erection. He didn't even need to touch Alan any more. It seconds, the two of them came hard, splattering them both with creamy liquid.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alan barely felt it as Scott released his wrists. He was still recovering from his climax as he felt strong arms warp around him, holding him close. Alan leaned his head back against Scott's chest, not wanting to move any more. He was spent, wishing nothing more than to stay like this forever.
"Thank you," Scott murmured into Alan's ear.
"Dad thinks that I've taken care of whoever was hurting me," Alan told him.
"Oh, you've definitely taken care of me."
"He will find out at some point."
"That's tomorrow," Scott said, "We can worry about that when it comes." Alan felt the soft kiss on his forehead. "I've got everything I need right here."
One of Scott's arms moved away for a moment, and Alan knew he was setting the alarm so they could get back to the house early enough. Then his brother's warmth enveloped him and Alan drifted into a contented sleep. Tomorrow would bring whatever it would bring. For tonight, he had Scott.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tracys look out for each other