Changing Lives 1:
Strike's Bitch, White's Bro

by Fur and Fantasy
NC-17 for M/M
full contents and notes located at the bottom of the file

"You know what Skye and Sayar are doing right now?" Vincent Van Wham grumbled as he came in from outside, brushing wind-blown red dust out of his gleaming white fur as best he could. "They're having sex. Hot, naked, sweaty, pelvic sex. And I get to sit out here in the middle of nowhere with dust in my fur."

"Now that is complaining just to complain." Throttle chuckled slightly and relaxed back in the makeshift couch of their hideaway.

"No, it's complaining because they got time off and I didn't," Vinnie clarified. "And it's been much too long since I got properly laid."

Throttle burst out laughing, his face contouring slightly behind his ever-present shades. "Bro, you have only yourself to blame for that one. You're hardly the only one out here you know."

"No, I mean properly laid. The kinda sex that involves four or five people and leaves you sore in the morning." The white mouse, and he was white underneath all the red Martian dust, sighed as he flopped down into the chair. "Not the kind you have while you're hiding out in a busted, half-working garrison post because it's the only thing to do."

Throttle could only shake his head and chuckle. "That's a tall order these days, Bro."

"I could manage, I'm sure, if you'd just give me the same sort of break you let the others take."

"Maybe I want to keep you for myself." He cracked a teasing grin.

"I'm too much mouse for you," Vinnie bragged, stretching his arms up above his head. He very rarely wore anything over his chest, and he knew just how well the otherwise innocuous movement showed off his physique.

"Sure you are," he chuckled again, his cybernetic eyes roaming over the fine display of fur and flesh. "I've taken better than you."

"Yeah, right. Did you bore them to death first too?"

That apparently hit something a little too close to a sore spot because the next thing Vinnie knew his back was against the cold stone wall and pressed tightly between it and the larger frame of his leader.

"No, I fucked them senseless." Throttle rumbled, utterly serious and with a dangerous edge on his voice as his tail forced Vinnie's face upwards.

"Hey, back off man!" Vinnie yelled, startled. "Geez, I was just kidding around."

It took a moment for Throttle to settle himself and back away and he looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, Bro." He shook his head and went back to the couch.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who wants a break," Vinnie muttered to himself, adjusting the polished metal mask that covered half his face.

"No, you're not." The tawny mouse consented quietly and picked up the book he'd been reading to finger it tenderly before opening it.

"So why don't we take it?" Vinnie asked exasperated. "Or at least go down and take care of that recon post we saw. It'd only take the two of us and we could bust it up real good. Work a bit of this craziness out."

Throttle regarded him levelly for a long time, then nodded. "Grab your helmet."

"About fucking time," Vinnie said with satisfaction, ducking deeper into the building to grab his gear.


"Now that was a good raid." Throttle's post battle jazz was audible over the helmet comm as he and Vinnie raced back to their hideout.

"We spanked them good!" Vinnie whooped, the successful raid making him even more exuberant than usual. He took his hands off the handlebars and planted them on the long saddle of his gleaming red racing bike, trusting the cyber-intelligent systems in Girl to keep it on track and upright as he lifted himself up into a hand-stand for a few moments as Throttle laughed in equally high spirits.

"We've got company." Throttle's tone went instantly serious; his gaze focused on the distance and the readings Lady was feeding him. "Someone's at the garrison."

"No-one's even supposed to know we're there," Vinnie replied, one hand dancing across his bike's panel and activating the battle systems again. "It's not the others back early, no code-tags on my display."

"Mine either." Throttle rumbled deep in his chest, his post-battle high converting into a battle lust as he geared up again. "One bike. Martian but not Cyber."

"Rats maybe?" Vinnie didn't much relish the prospect. It was easier to shoot an enemy that didn't look so much like you. "What's the plan?"

"Circle around, make sure it doesn't have company then go find it." He laid it out. "Anyone who can get by the perimeter security Modo set has to be fairly good."

"Got it." Vinnie gunned his engine and pulled ahead as he turned to one side of the garrison, describing a large arc around it as Throttle pulled Lady the opposite direction.

"All clear around here," he reported back.

"Ditto." Throttle's voice was strained, excited and worried all at once. "Meet me by the side entrance. We'll start the internal sweep there."

Throttle had to wait for Vinnie to turn up, although when he made his appearance he seemed ready to take on anything with a blaster in each hand. "Haven't seem anything," he murmured softly as he came close alongside Throttle.

The tawny mouse nodded, his tail tensed for action as blasters out. Both bikes rumbled, ready for action and to follow their riders in. Throttle took a breath, listening for anything out of the ordinary, any hint of what was beyond the door. When he didn't hear anything he kicked the door open and instantly swung to one side to avoid both traps and give Vinnie a clear shot if need be.

"Room's clear." Throttle rumbled softly as his artificial gaze swept the space. "No disturbances."

"Right," Vinnie nodded as he followed close behind the other mouse. "Don't see anything missing. Or trashed."

Throttle suddenly stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air. "What the? Cover me, I think I know him."

Vinnie came up behind the tawny mouse, one blaster pointed over each shoulder. The barrels were so close to his ears Throttle could hear the muted hum of the charges waiting to leap forward. He took a breath and opened the door with his tail, his own weapons on the ready.

"Getting paranoid, aren't you?" A deep and rather amused male voice rumbled from the couch where Throttle had been a few hours before.

"Strike." Throttle's stunned voice was so low Vinnie barely caught the name of the bruiser of Martian Mouse that stood up and took a step towards them.

"Just stay right there, big guy," Vinnie warned, both barrels still trained on the stranger.

"It's okay, Bro." Throttle raised a hand and brushed one barrel to the side as Strike watched in clear amusement. "He's on our side."

"You sure about that?" Vinnie asked. "He's got no tag."

"Vinnie, you are not going to shoot my boyfriend while I'm watching." Throttle turned to face the white mouse and pushed his other arm down. "Got it?"

"Boyfriend?" Vinnie asked, his visible eyebrow raised. The soft crackle of power-chambers discharging sounded, and Vinnie put the blasters up. "Great. Now everyone but me really will be getting laid."

"I'm hardly one to turn down a pretty boy." Iron Strike chuckled as he came up behind Throttle and drew the tawny mouse into an embrace that all but melted the rough exterior the Biker Mice leader usually kept up. "I'm sure you'd be fantastically fun in the middle of things." He added as Throttle's tail snaked up to wrap around his waist.

"Keep dreaming," Vinnie snorted, fitting each blaster into an outside thigh holster. "I'm going to go see to the bikes, make sure the perimeter's working."

He heard the barely controlled tension between the pair snap as he walked away, the heavy thud of a body being pushed against a wall and the unmistakable sound of Throttle's voice buried in a kiss.


"Sounds like you and lover-boy are really hitting it off," Vinnie said as Throttle emerged from the hallway into what was passing for their kitchen, startling the other mouse.

"I missed him," the tawny mouse shrugged. "We were pretty inseparable for a while."

"Yeah, like the last four hours."

Throttle grinned a little sheepishly and a bit of color flushed on his cheeks under the fur. "Yeah, like that. And just generally doing everything together."

"So what's he doing here? Where's he headed?"

"Here," Throttle blinked in surprise. "It took him this long to get his share of fighting done and track me down."

"He's got no tag Throttle. Not just no Biker Mice tag, but no Martian Military tag of any kind. Don't you think it's a bit suspicious of him to just turn up like this?"

"More of a godsend to me." He leaned back against the wall and started at his white Bro with his arms crossed. "We need all the help we can get and he's a damn good fighter. Even if I wasn't sleeping with him the help isn't something I'd turn down."

"Throttle, this is dangerous," Vinnie sighed in exasperation. "This guy could have been anywhere, doing anything. You said yourself it's years since you saw him. He's got nothing we can follow up on, he's got no tag, for all you know he's had the inside of his head scrubbed and he's waiting to shoot us in the night. I can't believe I have to explain this to you."

It seemed to make an impact on Throttle, just for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I'll take the risk. You don't have to like him Bro," he unfolded his arms and put one hand on Vinnie's shoulder. "But he found us. If he really wanted to hurt us we'd never have made it in the door. Iron Strike is good, Bro. He's an asset."

"There's a hell of a lot of coincidence there Throttle," Vinnie said guardedly. "A hell of a lot."

"No more than Vagrant managing to track me down. Bro, he knows who I am. He knows me better than even she did, and he's been tracking me for almost three years now. It took him this long to finally catch up."

"He's better not try anything," the white mouse said firmly, unsatisfied but knowing he wouldn't get any further. "I don't care how good he is, I'll fill him up with blaster bolts."

Throttle cut off his retort that it would be threw him, knowing Vinnie would relax in time. "I know Bro." He shook his head instead. "Until he proves himself to you, you don't trust anyone."

"There's too much about him that doesn't add up," Vinnie agreed.


"Such a pretty, horny mouse with no one to take care of him," Iron Strike rumbled as he caught Vinnie alone in one of the less used rooms in the barracks. His fur all but reeked of sex and lust, though he'd pulled his jeans on.

"I'm kinda getting used to that," Vinnie snorted. "Of course if you'd get your boyfriend to give me some time off I could get things taken care of."

"You don't need to go anywhere, pretty one." He chuckled softly and slid his tail along Vinnie side as he closed with the smaller mouse.

"You'd better watch your hands," Vinnie warned, glaring at the larger mouse out of the metallic side of his face.

"Don't try to tell me you don't want to get nailed so hard and long you walk funny in the morning." He rumbled softly and closed to run a large, appreciative hand along the fine white fur of Vinnie's upper chest.

"I didn't try to tell you that," Vinnie pointed out, shoving the other mouse's hand a way. "I didn't invite you to screw me either."

"Your need invited me to offer." Strike smiled a bit and ran his tail along the furred cheek as he moved even closer. "I haven't pushed you up against the wall and screwed you senseless yet."

"You won't, not if you know what's good for you." For all the determination in his voice Vinnie was still backing up, as much as he could in the enclosed space.

"I won't, unless you agree." Strike told him simply and kept the distance close to run his hands down Vinnie's chest. "Whatever you may think of me, I'm not into that kind of sex."

"I think you know exactly what I think," Vinnie replied. "Now get your hands off."

Strike regarded him seriously for a moment before he complied. "There is no need for you to want, you know."

Vinnie's eyes met Strike's without flinching, though neither of them missed the moment that they flicked across the other mouse's body. "I'm doing just fine lover-boy. Really."

"I'm sure," his grin widened a bit. "It just could be much better. I can wear you out the way you want it and you know it."

"Never said otherwise."

"So why refuse a good fucking?"

"I don't trust you, remember?" Vinnie smirked as he said it, as if they were just having a joke with each other.

"Right," Strike snickered and closed again. "It has nothing to do with that hot tan creature passed out in the living room at all."

"Throttle and I have been hanging out in this shithole for longer than I like to admit," Vinnie snorted. "You think I couldn't have had him if I wanted to?"

"Oh, I'm sure you could." He chuckled softly and ran one finger along Vinnie's jaw. "I'm quite sure it's come up. Loyalty's an admirable thing, but hardly necessary here."

Something long and hard pressed up into Strike's groin, but it wasn't what he'd been hoping for. It hummed with barely restrained power. "I told you to take you hands off me," Vinnie said his face as cold as stone as he pressed the blaster forward a little for emphasis. "Unless you like your bits extra crispy you might think about that."

He raised an eyebrow and backed off, just a little. "Spunky too." He grinned a bit.

"You think I wouldn't?" Now it was Vinnie's turn to step forward, pressing the weapon against the other mouse's maleness again. "Just try me."

"I believe you." He actually chuckled and held his ground. "You've lived this long after all."

"And don't you forget it," Vinnie said with a nod. "Clear out."

Strike chuckled softly and left, sure he'd have the white mouse in time.


A low moan, quickly swallowed by Strike's mouth on Throttle's, gave Vinnie his first warning that they were at it again.

He clenched his teeth as he glanced across the room at the pair, his hands tightening around the ionic converter from his bike's power system. He'd never thought he'd come to a place where bike maintenance was the most interesting thing to do, but lately it seemed like the best option. Better than having to watch the other two go at it every hour of the day.

The only breaks he got seemed to be when one was unconscious, usually Throttle, which meant that Strike was hitting on him. They didn't even make it through meals more often than not without the playful feeding of each other deteriorating into smooching which inevitably led to things he didn't want to watch.

He'd choked the first time Throttle had invited him to join the game, although probably not for the reasons Throttle suspected.

The problem was he did think about the big mouse's hands on his body, what it would be like to have Strike on top of him. As much as he tried to concentrate on clearing the dust out of the converter he couldn't keep himself from stealing glances.

Muscles bunching under the steel gray fur. He possessive grip of his hands on Throttle's ass. The very obvious arousal in the tan mouse's pants, which was beginning to be matched in Vinnie's.

Damnit. This was so not fair.

He fumed as the making out session escalated, Throttle's sounds and cries of pleasure rattling through Vinnie's head as Strike rubbed their clothed bodies together, arousing Throttle into complete willing submission. The nipping bites and kisses that no doubt marked the tawny mouse under his fur.

Vinnie knew that Throttle was barely cognizant of his surroundings by the time Strike pinned his wrists above them with his tail and continued down the hard tawny body as it writhed and whimpered in growing desperation.

Chills ran down Vinnie's spine, even stolen glances drawing up a tactile memory of having been in exactly the same position. It was maddening.

And it would only get worse. Strike wouldn't stop until Throttle or both of them were so thoroughly fucked they couldn't move. Then he'd come try to put his hands on him, try to give him the same treatment he had little doubt the steel gray mouse knew he wanted.

Something was going to have to be done.

But not now, right now what he needed was to get the fuck out. Clutching the converter he walked across the room, heading out in the direction of the vehicle bay they were keeping the bikes in. He let some of his frustration out on the door, rattling the hinges as he slammed it closed behind him. He was quite sure neither mouse noticed.


"How's it going?" Throttle asked several hours later when he came into the vehicle bay.

"You know," Vinnie shrugged noncommittally, without turning around. "Dust gets into everything."

"Still don't like Strike?" He asked quietly and dropped into a crouch next to his Bro.

"I could live without you two acting like it was a private sex resort," Vinnie said bluntly. "It's not fair Throttle."

"You know you're welcome to join in." He sort of shrugged. "Or have Strike take care of you first."

"That's not the point, and you know it," Vinnie snorted, closing the panel on the side of his bike and wiping a dark glob of grease off on his jeans. "You wouldn't put up with me doing it."

That made Throttle think, trying to remember exactly where he stood on it. Usually he just yelled at whomever it was to get to a room. He couldn't conceive of doing that to Strike.

"So remind us to take it to a room."

"Oh yeah, 'cos that's gonna work."

"You actually expect me to?" Throttle crossed his arms lightly and stared at the smaller mouse.

"You're the one who's always going on about restraint and self-control," Vinnie replied, finally turning around to face the other mouse. "Might think about showing some."

"You're assuming a lot." He just shrugged and turned to leave. "Like I'm in charge of it."

"You're sure as hell involved. I thought you were supposed to be in charge around here."

"I'm in charge of the Biker Mice." Throttle met Vinnie's glare with a hard look. "As you are fond of pointing out, Strike's not one of us."

"But you let him hang out here, eat and drink from our supplies, swan around the place as if he fucking owns it ..." Vinnie shook his head. "I don't like the situation, and you can bet the others won't either. I'm sure as hell not going to start taking orders from him."

"Has he tried?" He turned to look at his Bro seriously, a flicker of real concern showing on his face.

"No," Vinnie admitted, "But you let him go on like this and I bet you he'll get around to it."

"That's a hell of a leap to make, Bro. From screwing me on the couch to ordering you around."

"It's not just the couch," Vinnie pointed out. "As far as I can tell if he wants something he gets it. No matter what. That has never been the way this group has run."

"What has he gotten that's out of line?" Throttle frowned, clearly very displeased. "What did he do?"

"What has he gotten? This is not some sort of drop-in sex club Throttle! He shouldn't even be here. He shouldn't be leeching off us."

"He's brought in supplies," he poked a finger at Vinnie's nose. "And sex is what lovers do, you know. Just because you're jealous that my boyfriend cares enough to track me down doesn't give you the right to cause trouble over it."

"Yeah, I know about sex Throttle. I also know the difference between having sex, having great sex, and rubbing it in people's noses that you're having great sex." Vinnie batted to accusing finger away. "That's not called for and you fucking well know it."

"He is just jealous." Strike's deep voice mocked them from the doorway.

"With reason, apparently." Throttle turned on one heal to face the only person he'd ever truly submitted to. Even knowing he'd never stand up to him for long, he couldn't let the it go unchallenged.

"Will you just butt out?" Vinnie snapped, his anger directed past Throttle to the larger mouse. "We're having a Biker Mice meeting here, you're not invited."

Strike raised an eyebrow and turned to leave, but not before all three of them knew Throttle's convictions were weakening rapidly.

"At least he knows when to leave the room," Vinnie snorted once the other mouse was gone. "Sometimes."

"Rarely." Throttle's voice was low.

"This is not a good situation Throttle."

"Just what do you expect me to do about it?" He nearly growled. "Leave the team?"

"I expect you to show some leadership damnit!" Vinnie shouted. "If you want to just sit here and fuck all day that's fine, but at least let me get out of here. It's not like I haven't been bitching at you for a break."

"You can go when Modo gets back." He shook his head.

"Fine, but you need to keep the sexual extravaganza under wraps a bit. I don't deserve this bullshit."

"I'll do what I can." He said simply and turned to leave, his tone leaving little doubt he didn't expect to manage much.


"I will have you where and when I want." Strike's powerful voice was raised even more than usual.

Though Vinnie couldn't hear the other side of that argument, he had no doubt Throttle was trying to oblige him and keep the sex reasonably private. It was no big surprise that Strike wasn't impressed by the idea. You'd think he'd at least have heard of discretion.

But then given his actions so far, between just walking in like he owned the place and how he treated Throttle, Vinnie could only figure he was used to having his own way, in everything. He certainly didn't seem too concerned about getting his bits crispy fried by a blaster.

In spite of his misgivings he moved closer, wanting to be able to hear both sides of this conversation. He'd certainly seen the way this guy seemed to affect Throttle, and it wasn't something he liked.

"He's my Bro." Throttle's voice was low and grating, and nearing the limit of his fighting will. "He deserves what he's asked for."

"He's asking for trouble." Strike snarled back. "You're his leader."

"He's my Bro." Throttle suddenly roared.

The ascertain brought a smile to Vinnie's lips, even though Throttle couldn't possibly know he was listening. "And there's a good reason why," he murmured to himself.

"Is that why he keeps snipping at you? Why you aren't with him?" Strike rumbled, daring a contradiction. "I saw the way you look at him."

Throttle's reply was more sound than words, though his denial was still crystal clear even without seeing him.

"Answer me, damnit!"

"You haven't been around." He said weakly. Even Vinnie could hear the clap of his boot as he backed up and the faint trace of fear in the tone. "I haven't ...."

"You're lying." Strike growled. "You've touched him. Wanted him. Had him."

"No." The tremor was gone from his voice, but there wasn't much strength in it either.

Moving very slowly, quietly, Vinnie drew the blaster from his right thigh, dialing it down to a slow, quiet charge before arming it. "You just set a hand on him bad boy," Vinnie whispered. "Please."

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the crashing boom of a counter shattering under Strike's fist, but there was no impact of it on flesh, or a sound from Throttle indicating he'd been hit.

"I haven't." Throttle repeated, a little more sure of himself. "Vinnie's got every right to be here, and the rest of the team will be coming back soon too. Skye and Sayar have the same rules."

"Rules are for subordinates." Strike hissed threw clenched teeth. "And they're having a very bad influence on you."

Vinnie released a held breath and edged closer. This was beginning to get out of hand, but he wasn't sure that leaping in with a charged blaster would help much.

"Maybe because I've had to be the leader for the past seven years." Throttle shot back. "They trust me to keep them alive and I've managed without you, and with them." The hurt was more prevalent in his tone than anger or even defensiveness. "Maybe if you hadn't disappeared on me I wouldn't have changed."

Strike sputtered for a moment, just long enough for Throttle to storm out of the kitchen and nearly slam right into his white Bro.

"Move." He hissed softly and grabbed Vinnie's arm to hall him off. "Girl and Lady roadworthy?"

"Yeah," Vinnie replied as he let himself be dragged off. Mostly he was just hoping Throttle wouldn't draw the wrong conclusion from the fact he was lurking in the hall with a gun drawn. Or the right conclusion. Under the circumstances he wasn't quite sure which would be worse.

Either way, the conversation made it crystal clear things weren't as good between the lovers as it first looked. And the strength that made Throttle Throttle was partially to blame.

Vinnie couldn't feel the least bit sorry for that. He liked his Bro the way he was.


"He's kind of a jerk, isn't he?" Throttle's voice was so quiet Vinnie nearly missed it over the light Martian wind that danced threw their night camp.

"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. There was no need to say exactly who. "But it's the sexy kinda of jerkiness. You really don't have to explain."

Something in the haunted look on Throttle's face warned him that while the offer was appreciated, it wasn't really an option.

"How much did you hear?" He asked, his hidden gaze somewhere off in the darkness and stars.

"Enough to recognize what's going on, or close enough," Vinnie replied. "Heard you sticking up for me, too."

Throttle nodded slightly and fell silent, troubled more than he'd been in Vinnie's presence before. Not even the camps got that look to surface.

"Look, you really don't have to explain. I've been there, done that ... I'd probably do it again. I know it feels good, and the sex is fantastic." Vinnie's voice grew suddenly harder as he continued. "But there are some things that you don't have to put up with, that you shouldn't put up with. If he hits you I'll kill him, I swear."

Throttle's face snapped over, the eyeless sockets going wide.

"Look, I'm your Bro and I'll take care of you. That's all I'm saying."

Throttle nodded with a swallow and relaxed. "You've broken up before, from something like this?"

"I dunno you'd really call it breaking up, I'm not really the long-term relationship guy." The white mouse thought about it a little longer. "Walked away from some for good, some I could go back to, some were never going to go anywhere and we both knew it."

Throttle nodded and looked out into the stars again. "Ever wondered what it would have been like if we'd made it out there?"

"Not really," Vinnie shook his head, taking the change of topic in stride. "Too busy down here."

"Even before the war?"

Vinnie ducked his head slightly. If Throttle hadn't known better he might have guessed the mouse was embarrassed. "Thinking wasn't exactly my strong suit back then."

"I wouldn't have guessed it was it now." He looked over in utter curiosity.

"Hey, give a guy a break."

Throttle suddenly chuckled, very lightly and a little distantly. "It's not like I'm one to cast stones right now, Bro. It was fun, though?"

"Oh yeah," Vinnie chuckled. "That was pretty much the criteria for everything."

"Party boy back then too?" He cracked a bit of a grin.

"You could say that," Vinnie nodded. "You could definitely say that."

"Must have been a hell of a shock to land out here with me." He shook his head.

"It's different," Vinnie nodded. "Not bad, necessarily, but certainly different."

"Who would have ever thought a boy toy dancer would end up the leader of an elite strike force." Throttle chuckled, though it wasn't really in amusement or self-deprecation as his gaze disappeared into the darkness above them. "Hard to remember that life had anything to do with mine sometimes." He absently drew spiraling doodles in the fine red dust with his tail tip.

"That's when you met him, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "First time I've thought about it since I got a taste of combat."

"You always into guys like that, or was it just him?" Vinnie's voice was soft, probably gentler than Throttle had ever heard it. The past was something that none of them really talked about.

"I never had a choice in it till I got out here." He shrugged slightly. "They got what they paid for, and most wanted it rough. He got me out."

"You felt like you owed him," Vinnie frowned a little. "That's not a great basis for things. Even I know that."

Throttle chuckled in amusement, even if it didn't sound right. "I was fourteen, Bro. What the hell did I care but that I was out? He treated me better than anybody else ever had."

"He's been standing over you since you were fourteen?" Vinnie's expressions had become harder to read since he had half his face removed, but the shock still came across loud and clear.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Best thing that ever happened to me, till I found out what Bro's meant."

"Shit. No wonder he's so ... I mean, it kinda makes more sense now."

"It does?" He glanced over, obviously not making the connection his Bro had.

"Yeah. Not better, really, but more sense."

"How?"

"This guy's been bossing you around since you were a kid," Vinnie said simply.

Throttle had to think about that for a while before he nodded. "I guess so. I never thought of myself that way ... not since I had to start working. The street's no place for a kid."

"Fuck," Vinnie swore softly. "Do you want him here Throttle? Really?"

"I don't know." He sighed and dropped his face to stare at the random doodles his tail had created. "You have no idea how good it feels not to be responsible for a while after the last seven years. Plutarkians nearly broke me with something a lot less addictive. But he's not likely to ever accept what I am now, or how important it is for the five of us to stick together."

"Not unless we all get down on our knees for him," Vinnie agreed. "I'm guessing you already know he's after me. He hasn't exactly been subtle."

The tawny mouse flinched slightly. "I know."

That response drew a curious look from the white mouse. "You encouraged me."

"I thought you wanted him." His voice took on a rather lost edge. "You were bitching about not getting laid and I've seen you look at him, at us. I just figured it might make things a little easier. Besides, he does want you."

"I do," Vinnie admitted. "Like I said, I know his type. I know he could make me feel very very good. I've missed that. It's been a long time. Doing your boyfriend, knowing that you'd hear us going at it, it'd be ... disloyal, I guess."

"If you want him, take him up on it." He smiled slightly. "I'm used to hearing him, on the rare occasions I'm still coherent enough to care."

"Whether you're used to it isn't the point," Vinnie shook his head. "All the bitching aside, there are some things more important than sex."

"Vinnie, if you want him, let him take you." Throttle chuckled softly and relaxed back in the fine dust to stare up at the stars. "He probably won't be here much longer than it takes Modo or Skye and Sayar to get back. Enjoy it."

"You don't want him to take me," Vinnie pointed out, and then moved on in the hope that's be the end of the discussion. Permission might end up being the last straw, and he wasn't at all sure he wanted it. "What do you think's going to happen when the others come back?"

"Given your reaction? Modo'll probably take his head off, assuming Sayar doesn't."

"I meant what will he do? Doesn't take a genius to know he won't be happy."

"I'm not sure," he said softly. "Depends on how I'm acting, and if he's gotten you. I'm sure he'll make a move on Skye and Sayar fairly soon. They're definitely good enough looking."

Vinnie made a face. "That's gonna get him splattered all over the place. You know it's not gonna fly."

"I know," he said quietly. "He's not listening to me though. Not much I can really do to stop him, unless I try to get rid of him before she gets back."

"Can you do that? Can we do that?" Vinnie asked seriously. "From what I heard he doesn't love being told 'no'."

"I don't know if I can," he shivered slightly. "I could barely tell him to lay off the public sex. Getting rid of him's not that hard, really. It's just a matter of making it not worth his time."

Vinnie nodded, lapsing into silence for a while. He watched Throttle very carefully, very closely. Coming from someone with only half a face is was a bit unsettling.

"When it comes down to it, when he says go and we say stay, what will you do?"

The stillness descended again, and held for so long Vinnie had given up on an answer before Throttle finally spoke.

"I want to tell you I'd stay." He whispered, leaving the rest unsaid.

Vinnie sighed softly and looked down at his hands. "Right."

"You might have noticed, but I'm not good at letting anything go." He let a breath go. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to go against him like that. I hope I am."

"Sure, yeah, I ... it's fine."

"No it's not."

"No, it's not," Vinnie agreed without looking up. "Honestly, if you want him then just go. Or I'll just go. Whatever. But if you don't want him and you go with him anyway then what the fuck is the point? There's no point in taking about this, there's no point in doing anything about it, there's no point in anything except the Biker Mice getting down on their knees and being is own private little whore-farm."

"I guess not." Throttle replied quietly and rolled over to rest his head on crossed arms. Despite the evenness of the tone, Vinnie knew his leader well enough to recognize the pain and self-hatred there. "I don't want to go."

"Just say it. Say it and mean it Throttle. Please."

Throttle had seen Vinnie tortured. He'd been there when they'd stripped off half his face. For all that Vinnie had screamed and begged at the time, Throttle wasn't sure he'd ever heard the other mouse need something as much as this.

"I don't want to leave the Biker Mice." He answered truthfully, meeting Vinnie's eyes threw his shades. His only doubt had been whether he could manage the feat. This ... this offered a lot of strength to draw on for that moment of truth.

"Alright," Vinnie nodded. "Alright. So we've got to find a way to get rid of him before they get back. And it's gonna come down to me, because I don't see you standing up to him all that well."

Despite flinching internally at it, Throttle knew it was the truth. All of it.

The next thought that crossed his mind turned his blood cold.

"What's wrong?" Vinnie asked softly.

"Thought of a way to end it." He shuddered, almost all his internal defenses down at this point. "Just not a good one."

"I don't want to kill him if we've got a choice," Vinnie said firmly. "But it could come to that."

"I know." He murmured. As much as it hurt, he knew he could accept it. After loosing three Bros, an overly controlling lover he hadn't seen in seven years wasn't nearly as big a deal. Even if it was a really big deal. "If it comes to that, it's his fault."

"So what do you want to do?" Vinnie asked softly. "Do you want come down and try to talk with him? Do you just want to stay here and ask me to take care of it?"

He watched his leader struggle with what was probably one of the most difficult choices in his life with his emotions and thoughts playing across his face and body more clearly than any time he could remember.

"I have to try myself." He finally decided with some misgivings. "I did welcome him back. I owe it to myself enough to try and see him off."

"Okay," Vinnie nodded, "I'll follow your lead on this. If you need me to handle it then you get out. You don't have to say anything, just go on patrol or check the new parts in Lady or make up some excuse. You do that and I'll know I have to take care of things. You can trust me, I promise."

"I wouldn't have said the first word is I didn't." Throttle said with some difficulty and lowered his head to rest on crossed arms again. "But it can wait till morning. I'm tired."

"I think we could both do with some rest," Vinnie nodded.


"I was starting to worry about you." Iron Strike's voice was low and honest when he greeted the pair as they pulled into the vehicle bay. His touch along Throttle's chest was as gentle as anyone's when he claimed an equally tender kiss that stole the tawny mouse's mind and voice before he'd managed to say a word.

"We ran into a little trouble," Vinnie supplied, since Throttle was otherwise occupied. "If it wasn't for us you'd have had some rather unpleasant company."

"Then thank you." Strike smiled at the white mouse and urge Throttle from Lady's saddle and into the building.

Vinnie was still working on the bikes when the door opened over two hours later to reveal the buff, sex saturated body of their unwelcome guest. The white mouse didn't look up from where he was working of Throttle's bike, but there was a slight shift of his posture and a straightening of his shoulders that left no doubt he'd noticed.

"Would an apology for being a overly domineering jackass be worth anything?" Strike asked unnaturally quietly as he dropped into a crouch within tail-touching distance but out of arms reach.

"It'd be a surprise," Vinnie answered honestly, turning his face towards the other mouse.

"I've been trying to find him again for a long time." The big mouse shook his head. "I forgot to think about what that time would do to him. It's been mostly for the better."

"You're damn right it has been."

"He used to smile more." Strike countered, though there was an amazing lack of aggression in the tone. "And sleep better. How'd he end up a leader?" There was an honest curiosity in his manner.

"I dunno," Vinnie shrugged, answering honest with honesty. "It was a done deal by the time I turned up. He's a bloody good one though."

"He'd have to be, to keep five out of eight alive through the camps and war." He shook his head in a kind of bemused surprise. "It's very different than the last time we were together. I thought he'd grown up fast before. It's nothing compared to the last seven years."

"War has that effect," Vinnie said with a nod.

"Unfortunately. He had an incredible smile."

"Well I'm not gonna say the war's been a good thing," Vinnie snorted. "Not many would."

"Nobody that lives on this world at any rate." Strike's fist clenched in a nearly physical crackle of pure rage.

"Anyway," Vinnie steered the conversation back toward Throttle. "Seems like he's changed a lot since you left him."

"More than I thought possible." Strike actually chuckled a bit. "I figured he'd find someone else to take care of him. It never occurred to me he'd be the one taking care of others. It never seemed to be something he wanted to be."

"Well it is, and he's good at it. We need him."

Strike regarded the white mouse seriously and a little curiously. "You're doing him a disservice holding to that too much." He said quietly. "He still likes being taken care of. What happened to make him afraid to show that side to his Bros?"

"You think we don't take care of each other?" Vinnie asked, his tone darkening a little. "You really haven't been paying attention."

"I have been, and you take care of each other, no doubt." Strike said quietly. "But he hasn't relaxed in seven years either. He hasn't taken the leaders mask off since it first went on."

"How about we cut the crap here?" Vinnie suggested, his patience running out. "What are you after?"

"I want Throttle happy." He said simply. "And to screw you senseless every so often."

"Throttle is happy," Vinnie insisted and went face to face with a pair of dark brown eyes that seemed rather sad.

"He's making do as best he can. If he was honestly happy, he wouldn't have welcomed me back."

"That's not what he told me."

"That he couldn't tell me no, right?" Strike shook his head with an odd sounding chuckle. "I suppose he does believe that. It's closer to the truth that he has to want something more than me to pull it off." He stood with a powerful grace. "He did for you. He's defied me a lot for you."

"Maybe that ought to tell you something," Vinnie suggested.

"It does." Strike cracked an unusual smile. "You mean the world to him." He shifted to regard the smaller mouse critically. "What I haven't gotten is why you don't give him what else he needs." He shook his head. "You seem capable enough."

"If you mean what I think you mean you can just fuck off," Vinnie snorted, his hands balling into fists. "That's between me and Throttle."

"I mean someone strong enough to hold him threw the nightmares so he can sleep at night. Someone he trusts enough to be weak around." Strike didn't respond to the impending threat at all. "And it is between the two of you. It just affects him, so it concerns me."

"Well you can be concerned all you like, but I don't answer to you."

"Did I skip the part where I said I was sorry for being a overly controlling jerk?" Strike shook his head slightly with a sigh. "Look, I just figured you might help him out if you knew what he needs and won't ask for."

"No, but since you're still acting like one it's not doing you a whole lot of good," Vinnie snorted as Strike shook his head and walked away.


Vinnie started as he felt hands come down onto his shoulders from behind some time later. He lashed out blindly but didn't connect with anything. That was all right, he was pretty sure he knew exactly who it was. He pulled a combat roll that got him out from under the other mouse's hands and came to his feet, his face stormy.

"What the fuck do you think you're pulling?"

"What we both want." Iron Strike rumbled and closed the distance between them. "To fuck you senseless."

"You know that's not going to happen," Vinnie replied, setting one hand on the larger mouse's chest and pushing him away.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow and didn't budge. "I know Throttle told you it was okay with him while you were out there."

"And just how do you know that?" Vinnie challenged him.

"He told me," he smiled slightly and closed the distance a little more to put his hands back on Vinnie's shoulder, running them down the muscular white chest.

"And so now you figure I'm ripe for the plucking, right?" Vinnie asked, shrugging Strikes hands off and backing further away to little avail.

"You want it, I want it, and you're loyalty to him is no longer in the way." Strike licked his whiskers as his tail came up between them to feel Vinnie up inside his jeans.

The white mouse reached down and grabbed the tail, pulling it away from his crotch and the stirring that Strike was causing. "You can be a real ass when you put your mind to it."

"It's not my ass that's in contention, pretty boy." He chuckled and caught Vinnie's wrists with his tail before pressing close and claimed a rough kiss. One large hand held Vinnie's head in place as he was rubbed against, stirring more interest in his body.

Vinnie's body tensed and twisted as Strike's tongue pushed it's way into his mouth. Even that only ended up pitting him against the muscular strength of the other mouse's body, which Strike had no problems demonstrating. "Damn you," Vinnie cursed him as their lips came apart.

"Curse all you want, you do want to be taken so hard and long you can't stand it." He rumbled and squeezed Vinnie's ass with one hand as the tip of his tail slid up to caress the sensitive red antennae back against white fur.

The shock that ran down through the white mouse's body was unmistakable, as was the tension that became more and more obvious behind the zipper of his jeans. Vinnie turned his head, managing to slip his antenna out from under Strike's tail and hide the flesh half of his face in one movement for a moment.

Then the tail securing his wrists moved down to pin his waist against Strike's and the hand holding his head forced him back for another kiss as Strike's free hand moved up to gently squeeze and stroke the most sensitive part of Vinnie's body.

"I can make you feel better than you have in years." Strike promised hotly.

"I know," Vinnie growled through clenched teeth, his breath beginning to rush through his throat at the onslaught of pleasure and male musk and knowledge of what it would be like to be under this mouse.

Strike smiled as he felt his prey's resistance weaken and moved around to press against Vinnie's back. His hand moved to cup and fondle the thickening flesh in the white mouse's jeans as his mouth took over working on the antennae.

Vinnie cried out softly, trying to shift his antennae away but the other mouse's warm wet mouth seemed to be everywhere. The worst thing was that he was enjoying it. He couldn't deny that. He'd thought about what the gray mouse would be like in bed since the first time he'd seen him without a shirt. Even his attempts to free himself ended up rubbing him against hard, bunched muscle and only encouraged Strike.

He barely heard his jeans being unzipped, but the firm strong hand around his throbbing flesh was undeniable.

"Please," Vinnie moaned softly, although neither of them could have said exactly what he was asking for.

It was enough for Strike and he let Vinnie's wrists loose so he could use his tail to finish stripping them both and pressed Vinnie against the nearby wall. All the while he continued to stroke and suck sensitive skin as he prepared himself and tested Vinnie's ass for flexibility.

The white mouse may not have been getting any recently, but he was certainly no stranger to having his body opened up. He lowered his head and moaned softly as Strike's fingertip penetrated him, his tail curling down along one of his legs and exposing him to the larger mouse.

It was all the invitation Strike needed or wanted. Already slicked he pressed forward, sinking into Vinnie's body up to the sheath in a single smooth motion that only gave a hint of the power that would soon be unleashed.

"Oh Gods!" Vinnie moaned raggedly as Strike's maleness filled him, his body tightening around the pleasant invasion. His arms reached out to brace him against the wall, pleasure and the anticipation of more to come washing away all his misgivings.

Even in the first few strokes Vinnie knew everything he'd guessed about the big mouse was true. His power, his stamina, his utter domination of the mouse under him. Gods he'd missed this.


Vinnie came around slowly, every inch of his body aching in that pleasant way of being completely worked over by a bedmate who knew what they were doing. Then he realized he was in a bed, with a mouse only slightly bigger than himself holding him in a lover's embrace.

"Oh gods that was good," he moaned softly, struggling back towards full consciousness as his shoulder and back were stroked by the hands and tail holding him.

"Feel better now?" A low, instantly familiar voice asked threw the haze.

"Throttle!" Vinnie tried to go from horizontal and hazy to sitting up and firing on all cylinders and didn't quite make it. There was a band of soreness running down either side of spine that made sudden movement difficult. Not to mention he was lying in bed with a mouse who's boyfriend had just given him one of the most thorough fuckings of his life.

"Yes," he answered quietly and pulled Vinnie back down with gentle insistence to lay together, fur against bare fur. "It's okay, Bro."

"He gonna be a lot harder to get rid of now," Vinnie sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Why?" He looked at his Bro curiously, not quite understanding.

"Because he's gonna think he's got us both under his thumb. Just where he wants us."

Throttle sighed and squeezed him tightly. "We'll make it work, somehow."

"When he put his hands on me ... damn Throttle, you know how to pick them. If it weren't for the war ...."

"You'd enjoy his attentions for a lot longer." He nodded knowingly. "He's very good at what he enjoys." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Very, very good."

"But there is a war, and we can't just settle into being his bed-toys." Vinnie said it as much for his benefit as for Throttle's.

"Before Sayar or Modo handle it for us." He shivered lightly. "He can be a real jerk, but I ... damnit, there are a lot of good years there."

"He can turn on the charm when he wants," Vinnie nodded. "He came to try and apologize to me before. Didn't know whether he meant it or not, but he put on a good show."

"I don't know if he ever means anything, except when he wants to have me." He murmured, his shaky self-control and conflicting emotions drawing him forward to kiss his Bro slowly, leisurely, as if they'd been doing it for years.

Vinnie ducked his head as their lips came apart and, astonishingly to Throttle, his remaining cheek darkened with a blush as the tawny fingers brushed along it. "Throttle ... we have to do something about him."

"I know." He whispered through a tight throat. "He won't be back for a couple hours. Something about catching dinner for us."

"Fuck," Vinnie swore softly. "Like one big happy family. You told me the other day that he was a good fighter. Do you think he'd fight for Mars?"

"He does, in his way." He sighed and settled down to snuggle against white fur. As wrong as it seemed, for a moment he looked like that kid that had first gotten Strike's attention, just wanting to be cared about and willing to do whatever that meant. "He's just more of a rebel than we are. Even bet which side hates him more."

"Damn. I'd feel a lot better about this if we could send him off to the guys in charge, get him a tag, get him working on the right side. Might not be so bad for you to see him then."

"As long as he wasn't here, right?"

"As long as someone was keeping a lid on him," Vinnie corrected him. "He's a great lay, but I don't really trust him."

"It's not good to, about some things." Throttle sighed softly. "I was just ... I missed him so much. I wanted things to work out."

"So did I, for about three seconds," Vinnie admitted. "You know it's not going to happen though, right?"

"I know," he murmured, regretful but sure of it. "He'd never fit in here. He's not Biker Mice material. He's just not."

"So we either have to convince him to go ... or make him go."

Throttle let out a painful breath at that, knowing it was true. "I'll try after dinner."

"Just remember what I said out there, okay?" Hesitantly Vinnie reached across to squeeze Throttle's shoulder. "I can still take care of it."

He nodded and made the effort to straiten his body along Vinnie's, drawing the white mouse close again. "I'll remember."


Vinnie was still in his Bro's arms in the bed when the smell of food roused them both from the light doze.

"Well," Vinnie said, rolling his eyes. "I guess that would be Master calling."

"At least it's with dinner and fresh meat." He murmured and stretched, stealing another kiss before he rolled out of bed to pull his jeans on over combat hardened muscle and definite arousal.

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't hurt," Vinnie said, clambering out and stretching to ease the worst of his soreness. "Uhhh ... I do have clothes around here somewhere, yeah?"

"Just a minute." He chuckled softly and left the room, which Vinnie only now realized was the one Throttle had claimed for himself when they'd moved into this decrepit place.

"Here." Throttle tossed a pair of Vinnie's jeans to him when he came back in.

"Thanks," Vinnie flashed Throttle a grin and pulled them on. "Not that lover-boy would probably mind, but I think things are better off this way. You don't know what happened to my blasters?"

"No. I'm assuming they're with the jeans you'd been wearing." He smirked slightly. "Those are from your room."

"Which means he's got them," Vinnie shook his head. "You ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be." He sighed and made a visible effort to pull himself up and focus on what he had to do. "I doubt he kept them."

"I guess we're about to find out."

"Yap," he managed something of a smile and squeezed Vinnie's wrist gently with his tail before they walked into the building's corridors, following the smell of fresh meat roasting with other things.

The amazed Throttle a little how the simple silent presence next to him bolstered his shaky will, though he didn't dwell on it.

"Ah, there you two are." Strike smiled at the pair when they entered and pretended not to notice the strain all but radiating from Throttle. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." Throttle managed to answer, though it was almost on reflex. Just Strike's presence really did things to him he didn't want to admit to.

"Like the dead," Vinnie said with a brief nod and felt his Bro lean towards him ever so slightly.

"Good," Strike nodded, his tail swinging to an internal beat. The hunting is really quite good around here. There's meat for a week from the jacha I got."

"You sure it's safe?" Vinnie asked. "Sometimes the fishes poison the meat. They don't like them, but they know we do."

"If he was poisoned, it's a new one." Strike replied just as seriously. "Put up a hell of a fight and came up clean on what I could check for."

"You tried it yet?"

"On the ride back." Strike nodded.

Vinnie surprised the other two mice by cracking a grin. "You don't look dead yet."

"Very much alive," He shot a grin back and walked over to sweep Throttle into an embrace and kiss that melted all thought in the tawny mouse. "I wouldn't risk it otherwise."

Vinnie clenched his teeth as he watched, wishing that the memory of the mouse's hands moving across his body wasn't quite so strong. It wasn't hard to see just how difficult this was going to be for his Bro, and he'd have hell getting rid of Strike too.

When Strike released Throttle's mouth it was to whisper something in the tawny mouse's ear that caused Throttle to shiver, almost tremble, and nod weakly.

Vinnie could see the will to resist draining from his Bro with every touch, and he couldn't really blame him. It was an eternity before the cooking drew Strike away, leaving Throttle a bit dazed.

"Make sure there's plenty to go around huh?" Vinnie called out to Strike, his tone at odds with the concerned look he cast Throttle's way. "I could just about eat the whole thing myself." He added as Throttle shifted to lean against him, breathing rather rapidly as he drew strength from the white mouse.

"Oh, there is." Strike smiled at the pair with an approving look.

"This'd be so much easier if he wasn't being nice." He whispered.

"I think that's why he'd doing it," Vinnie murmured. "He must know something's up."

"Yeah," he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Then the prospect of food after most of a day gave them all a break from thinking.

Vinnie didn't seem to have been exaggerating his hunger, the white mouse digging into the meal with an enthusiasm that even Throttle had rarely seen from him before in the few moments he'd stolen his attention away from his own roast and stew. Strike was a better cook than he had been.

It was enough of a thought to make Throttle shiver lightly, knowing what was coming. He was sure Vinnie was right, that this behavior, including putting Vinnie to bed in his arms and making the meal, was designed to do exactly what it was: breaking his resolve.

Between hunger, nerves, being quietly supportive and waiting for things to play out, all three of them had a very quiet meal.

"Your cooking as improved." Throttle said quietly, earning a smile from the big gray mouse. He swallowed with some difficulty as that gaze turned focused and intent. "You know this has to end."

"No it doesn't." Strike replied calmly, relaxing back in his chair and downing the last of his drink.

"Yeah," Vinnie said quietly as he became the scrutiny of those now piecing dark brown. "It does."

"Really." Strike regarded them with a kind of smug disbelief. "I've seen no reason for it."

"I'm not the kid that followed you around for nine years, Strike." Throttle managed to draw himself up to face him squarely. "I've changed, and this isn't right anymore."

"Bull," Strike replied calmly but forcefully, all but breaking Throttle's resolve. "You still want to be taken care of and no one here will do it."

"Modo will." Vinnie said simply. "He'll pound your bones to jelly, no mistake."

The look he got for that was icy. "He's not that good."

"Stop it!" Throttle snapped as he all but launched to his feet. "My Bros come first. End of discussion. I managed seven years without you, I'll manage the rest."

"You wouldn't dare ..." Strike was on his feet, towering over his lover and using everything their time together had imprinted on the younger mouse's mind as he watched with some satisfaction as Throttle's resolve began to crumble.

"You might be surprised what Throttle dares, these days," Vinnie said pointedly.

"Just leave, Strike. Please." Throttle's voice was low and submissive, a match for his posture, but still he managed to voice the request.

"No." He snorted. "I know what you need better than you do and we both know it."

"That's such a load of crap," Vinnie snorted, still sitting in front of his plate and found that he was no longer involved in the conversation.

The content had gone to a silent test of wills that wasn't even a challenge for Strike to win. It only took him a minute to make Throttle look away, his ability to challenge anymore broken for the moment.

It was enough that Throttle barely managed to pull away and glanced apologetically at Vinnie before mumbling something about testing Lady's new modifications.

Vinnie sighed and ducked his head, hoping Throttle caught the brief nod as he hurried away. Silence ruled the room for a few minutes as both the mice turned their attention back to eating.

"You really are an ass, you know that?"

"He's mine." Strike replied simply, utterly at ease with the statement.

"He's his own mouse," Vinnie disagreed. "You're gonna figure that out, one way or another."

"Is that so?" Strike challenged and stood, coming around to the smaller white mouse with a distinct stalk that Vinnie knew very well from his carousing days. "Like you, I suppose."

"Damn right."

"Right." He smirked and caught Vinnie's wrists again. "Sure you are."

Vinnie twisted and wrenched his hands out of Strike's grip, but this time refused to back away. Instead he took another mouthful from his plate. He was still chewing when a powerful tail snaked up to drape around his throat and tipped his face up.

"That is not acceptable behavior."

"I'm not your plaything Strike," Vinnie said clearly. "Now let me go."

"Yes, you are." He rumbled and tightened his tail slightly as he ran powerful hands down Vinnie's chest. "You enjoy it."

"I loved getting fucked by you, sure," Vinnie admitted, "But that's not the same thing. Now let the fuck go of me."

"That's not what you were begging for when I had you up against the wall." He rumbled hotly, his hands and tail bold and demanding.

"It's what I'm saying now," Vinnie insisted, swatting the other mouse's hands away to no real effect.

"It's not what you mean." He nipped Vinnie's neck possessively before drawing one antennae into his mouth.

Vinnie had to clench his teeth to keep from moaning as Strikes tongue danced across the sensitive appendage. "You fucking bastard," he hissed as his tail snaked up to the table, curling around a fork and drawing it back out of sight.

The reply came with a tail snaking down his body to pool and tease his tightening groin. "You are mine, pretty boy. And you'll enjoy every moment of it."

"I don't think so," Vinnie growled, stabbing upwards with his tail. Fighting blind Vinnie wasn't able to drive it up into the other mouse's crotch like he'd hoped, but the fork dug into the meat of Strike's upper thigh as Vinnie pushed up and away from his body.

"Why you ..." Strike seethed and pulled the makeshift weapon out. "You are going to pay for this."

"You're a rapist and an asshole Strike," Vinnie spat as he backed towards the door. "And I'm gonna make sure you never get your hands on Throttle again."

"Sure you are." He sneered and lunged forward, testing Vinnie's reflexes.

The white mouse was on guard now and he ducked backward through the doorway as the larger mouse grabbed for him. This was gonna get ugly fast, and he felt naked without blasters.

It wasn't a vulnerability his opponent was feeling from the look of him. Between muscle and moves, he was very used to fighting with his bare hands and tail, and he made very good use of them to trip Vinnie up.

Vinnie stumbled against the wall, his momentum carrying him forward and sprawling him across the floor. He wasn't about to let that stop him though, scrambling forward on hands and knees to put as much distance between him and the mouse advancing down the corridor. This wasn't a fight he could pull off as a punching match.

He had to get a weapon to even things out before he was pinned again. And he'd have to find it soon. Throttle hadn't been joking about Strike being a good fighter.

Throttle had said his blasters were still down in the Vehicle bay. Vinnie scrambled to his feet and started running in that direction, Strike hot on his heals. He kept his focus on moving and not letting himself be distracted when he was slammed into a wall or hit the deck.

Strike was stronger, but he was more agile. Most of the time. Over and over Vinnie cured himself for not going to fetch the blasters beforehand. Through the corridor, around the corner, vault the table in the middle of their make-shift war-room. He had to make the vehicle bay before Strike got his hands on him. Being fucked brainless might not be the most horrible thing that could happen, but if Strike got his way this time there might never be another chance. For him or Throttle.

All he could hear was the thud of feet behind him and the curses and promises raining down. He had to get his blasters. He had to do this for Throttle. For the mouse that had done so much for him.

Faster, he had to go faster. He felt Strike's outstretched fingers brush against his tail and snatched it away. He was so close, he couldn't let himself get caught now. One more corridor, jump down the short flight of stairs then out into the vehicle bay.

He spied his pants immediately, lying on the ground where Strike had discarded them earlier. It was a half dive, half skid that brought Vinnie over to them, twisting and righting himself on his knees, bringing his hands up ... empty.

Throttle had been wrong. They weren't here.

He cast his eyes around urgently for something he could use, but the bay was empty. Even his bike was gone for some reason. There was nothing ... nothing but the gray mouse walking across the bay towards him, satisfaction painted across his face.

"Leave him alone." Throttle's shaky but demanding voice behind him made Vinnie glance back, seeing the tawny mouse he was doing this for. The tawny mouse who was holding Vinnie's blaster right at Strike.

"What?" He instantly shifted his focus to Throttle, surprise just as clearly written as smugness had been a moment before. "You can't."

"Don't make me choose, Strike." For all the strength of his determination, Throttle's voice was shaky, but his aim was not. "Leave. We had a good nine years. Leave it at that."

"You are mine, Throttle." He advanced on the tawny mouse, the effect of his presence unmistakable. "Put the blaster down. Now."

"I'm a Biker Mouse." Throttle striated his shoulders and hardened his face, though there was little doubting how difficult this was for him. "First, foremost and last. Everything else comes after that."

"You're alone." Strike told him with another step, one that stopped short of its full stride.

"Then I am alone." He replied with a much softer voice as Strike took another step closer, almost within touching distance now. "I accepted that when I lost you seven years ago. My Bros are my family now."

"And that means you're not alone," Vinnie said, the sound of his voice startling even him. The tension between the other two mice was almost mesmerizing. He realized, in the back of his mind, that this was going to be one of the defining moments in Throttle's life. No matter how it actually ended.

"You don't have to choose." Strike closed the rest of the distance between them and closed his hand over Throttle's, shifting the blaster away. He lifted a hand to brush Throttle's cheek and smiled with the tawny mouse leaned into the touch. "I love you."

"No, you don't." Throttle's voice was hushed and rough. His face blanked out for just a few seconds. Just long enough to lift the blaster and fire. "You don't know what it means."

The sharp snap of the blaster firing echoed around the bay. Vinnie could see the fur on the back of Strike's chest curling and blackening as the energy from the bolt diffused through his body. A smell not entirely unlike the roasted jacha in the kitchen began to seep through the air.

Throttle must have had the blaster dialed all the way up.

His face, that blank mask of leadership and determination, cracked as the blaster slipped from his fingers. By the time Strike had crumbled to the floor at his feet Throttle was shaking uncontrollably.

Vinnie got to his feet and approached slowly, deciding the sudden movement was the last thing anyone needed in the situation.

"Throttle. Throttle, look at me."

It took some effort, but he managed to bring his muzzle up enough to meet Vinnie's eyes. Recognition took too long, but when it hit Throttle stepped forward, all but collapsing into his Bro's arms without a sound.

"Hey, it's gonna be all right," Vinnie murmured, closing his arms around Throttle and letting his bro's weight draw them both down towards the floor. "It's gonna be all right. I promise."

Changing Lives 1: Strike's Bitch, White's Bro

NC-17 for M/M
Het Level is Low
Slash Level is Slash Smut Level is Medium
Femslash Level is None
Herm Level is None

69 KB, Story is Complete, Series is Finished
Written September 2, 2003 by Rauhnee Ranshanka and Vorex

Setting: Biker Mice from Mars

Primary Races: Martian Mice

Contents: Furry. Het (M/F). Slash (M/M). Death, Fraternization

Pairings: Throttle/Iron Strike, Throttle/Vinnie

Blurb: With more than half the Biker Mice off on other missions, Throttle and Vinnie are left alone.

Disclaimer: All things taken directly from the sources listed under 'Fandoms' belong to the owners of those shows. No harm is intended and we're definitely not making any money. Now, the things we created are ours, and if you see 'Non-FanFic' up there, it's probably all ours.

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