#for the captain of the uss huntech

[bitterfishiesstuff]

Happy belated birthday @sergeantgoggles

How belated? The rest of you will never know. Rin knows my shame. I'm sorry!!!

Fluffy huntech doodle for the ship captain.

[bitterfishiesstuff]

SergeantGoggles here. You know what I came for. 😏

🎲 + Huntech

Aye aye cap'in!

39. A tentative kiss (spoilers for season 3, not canon compliant)

Hunter had hoped it wasn't Tech under that helmet. Every fiber of his being prayed as he saw little things that were similar, but not quite right. He should have know he was seeing things. A grieving mind graphing at straws to make connection where there were none.

From one there was suddenly five. Echo, Wrecker, and the regs all fighting chances of Tech. Glimpses of a sick hope that maybe- maybe Tech was one of CX's. Shadows that all had a dull glimmer of something.

A glimmer of nothing.

Each a reg. At first Hunter was disappointed, but quickly he felt sickened by his own greed. Tech didn't deserve that. No one deserved what they went through, but especially Tech. His Ace, his second in command... His husband.

Their war was over now. Omega was safe, as were the boys and the other kids Omega had found on Tantis. She'd even gone with Echo to drop the last of the little commanders off. Something Hunter hasn't wanted, but Crosshair had pointed out she was going with Echo. Either absolutely nothing would happen because he was a stickler for regulations,unless it didn't suit him of course, or they'd obliterate whatever stopped them with their combine bantha shit crazy.

He was right of course. Omega was almost home and she had commed to tell them she had found a suprise. Of course she did. Hunter just hoped it wasn't another hound. Batcher had taken to Crosshair, and it ate like Wrecker.

He wasn't sure he could handle another mouth to feed, especially if it took to Crosshair. The man spoiled Batcher rotten when he could.

He felt the thrum of the engines before anyone. The electro magnetic pulse hitting the atmosphere sent a shiver down his spine. It was a familar feeling, one that meant safety. Family had returned home again.

He feared the day it wouldn't return and they'd said their last good bye to Echo, or the other regs that came around with him.

Today wasn't that day though. The sun shown brightly as Echos ship landed on the small pad. Not Omega driving, she'd have swooped in like Tech and sent leaves flying off the old tree in the public square. Hunter waited in front of the ramp. Not to close, but it didn't matter. Omega would run out to him and Echo would follow in a bit.

The ramp hissed and he smiled, waiting for whatever treasure or curse she'd dragged home this time.

But no one came out. He frowned and took a step forward. What had she found that it was taking longer to greet him? Suddenly he had flash backs to the baby rancor, but no. Echo would *not* have let one of those on board.

Omega's foot steps slowly carried out of the ship, along with the sound of gears and wheels. Truly curious he stepped closer to try and hear her voice.

"I think you should tell him first Omega. I do not wish to startle him-"

He knew that voice. He KNEW that voice like the beat of his own heart, the curve of his vibroblade, the pulse of the havoc.

Hunter ran. He didn't care who was watching or the fact he scared a couple walking near by. He flew up the ramp almost running into a sheepish Omega and-

Tech.

The specialist looked up at him. To most he'd look slightly off balance, but not to Hunter. Concern was foremost, as was worry. There was nervousness, which Hunter could understand. Tech had one eye replaced with a machine, as was an arm. Both legs seemed intact, but he was in a mobility chair.

It didn't matter. Tech was alive and staring at him like he was the ghost.

"Hunter..."

Two steps and Hunter falls to his knees infront of him.

"Tech. Tech I-"

His Ace raise an eyebrow and holds out a hand to him. "That will hurt in a rotation."

Hunter laughs, eyes watering as his other half takes his shaking hand and gives him the stable ground he'd been searching for ever since Tech executed plan 99.

"I'll live." Hunter winces as the words slip out. Tech almost didn't. Tech hadn't. There was no way, but here he was.

Time crawled as Tech bent over stiffly, stopping only a hair breath short of parted lips. They both froze, uncertain if the other would close the gap. Tech pulls back a fraction and Hunter moves forward, still not daring to complete the kiss. As if kissing him would wash him away.

They meet for an instant, both moving as if they'll be stung. Tech reunits them. Kissing Hunter timidly, before parting again.

"We both will."

[bitterfishiesstuff]

Happy holidays to @sergeantgoggles a quick huntech drabble

Snow was a novelty the first three times Tech saw it. After that it was a scientifically understood natural phenomenon, like rain. Mostly it was an inconvenience. The cold affected his datapad, stiffened his fingers to being almost unusable, and often made his goggles fog when entering buildings after long periods outside.

Still Tech made sure to only make surface level grumbling, nothing that would make Hunter move faster in the cold weather. For Hunter it was novel every time.  Cold numbed the senses, giving their sergeant a rare respite from his heightened senses. With the added bonus of snow muffling sound enough that Crosshair could bitch freely once Hunter was out of sight. His grumbling was often a much needed relief from the tedium of having to fuss and baby technology into working.

The only sense not affected was Hunter’s ability to read electromagnetic fields, which meant he could track their targets and keep track of the squad. Sometimes even better then usual because of the lack of physical distraction of being over sensitized.

There was one bright side to the cold for Tech.

When the mission was over and they returned to their ship. Hunter would hesitate, delaying the inevitable pins and needles of raising his surface body temperature rapidly. Maybe Wrecker would start a snowball fight, maybe he and Crosshair would rush into the ship, cursing because snow worked past the seal of his armor somehow.

Eventually there would be a moment with only him and Hunter. His sergeant holding his bucket under his arm, face exposed to stare at the landscape as if it held an answer he’d been long looking for.

There was always the temptation to go in, to leave Hunter to his musings and warm up in the engine room.

Patience was well rewarded though. Eventually Hunter would turn to him, perhaps with snow caught in his lashes. Tech would remove his own helmet, always waiting until the last moment to expose himself to the frigid air. Saving his own senses from the numbing cold.

Hunter would chuckle as Tech winced at the cold and pull him closer for a kiss. It should be unpleasant. To cold wind biting at his cheeks as Hunter’s chill lips meet his, and it is in a fashion, but Hunter’s reactions are well worth the minor discomforts. A rare moment when he can kiss as hard as he wants, take as much as he wants without worrying about lingering stressors deciding this was the straw that broke the camel’s back and pushed him into a margarine.

When they separate Tech is breathless, the cold air feeling far too thin suddenly.

Hunter smiles at him. “Come on Ace, let’s get you back inside where your toys work.”

Tech follows, as he usually does. “My datapad is not a toy. It is a highly complex-“

Snow wasn’t novel, but Hunter’s smile always was.