Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After their welcome diversion in each other's arms, Anon and Gibson renew their journey to Argon, no longer feeling distant, and spending their breaks getting to know each other. Their reserves don't recharge as much as they normally would, but they aren't complaining. They're close enough to Argon now that energy runoffs from the city's power plants become more frequent.

Of course, that means their journey takes twice, if not three times as long as it should. But, there isn't a pressing need for them to get to Argon as fast as possible; their only real motivation being the hopeful finding of Tron, and the hope that they can get some sort of direction from the legendary security program. Perhaps even help with the rebellion.

However, the longer they spend together, the less they feel concerned about the problems of the grid. Their world shrinks down to the reach of their arms, and the closer they get to Argon, the slower their steps become, and the longer their breaks last.

Three cycles after their unification, Anon and Gibson find themselves at the outskirts of Argon, atop an outcropping overlooking the city. Instead of its usual stunning blue-white, Argon is glowing orange; a bad omen for the fate of the city, and for their chances of finding Tron.

Above the city sits two massive ships. One, Anon recognizes as the Rectifier, but the other is unknown to either of them. It’s slightly smaller than the Rectifier, and has three dorsal fins that protrude from the body, angled like the feathers of an arrow.

They debate whether to even attempt to enter the city, due to its apparent occupation. There will no doubt be firewalls scanning the disks of any and all programs. Gibson would be identified as soon as they set foot within the city limits.

Anon could enter the city alone, like he did back in Tron City, but he can't imagine leaving Gibson for more than a microcycle, and Gibson feels the same.

"If only we knew someone on the inside," Gibson remarks dismally, after the last idea he had was shot down by Anon. They could think of dozens of ways of getting into the city, but knowing where to go once they were inside was the hard part.

Gibson's remark causes Anon to remember Rocky's parting words to him when he asked where he could find the friendly stripper again: "Well, I've always wanted to see what life is like in Argon. Perhaps we might run into each other there."

"Rocky!" Anon says suddenly, and excitedly.

"What about him?" Gibson asks, jealousy inadvertently affecting his tone.

"He said he always wanted to go to Argon!" Anon says enthusiastically, his glee not helping the twisting feeling in Gibson's gut.

"But, how do we even know if he's there now?" Gibson asks, not really wanting to meet to only other program that can get Anon excited, "let alone how to contact him."

"Oh, right," Anon says, dejectedly, slumping into a sitting position on a pile of rocks.

If it were anyone else, namely someone with more emotional experience, Gibson would have pointed out how overly dramatic Anon is being at the moment. But Gibson has noticed that during their extended trip to Argon, Anon's emotions have suddenly spiked, curiously, soon after their unification; and that they affect him a lot more than Gibson would deem normal.

Admittedly, Gibson's worried. Worried that the amount to which Anon feels could overwhelm Anon.

Gibson is about to approach Anon in an attempt to console him, feeling bad that his questioning of Rocky's whereabouts caused Anon to experience a feeling of disappointment--that is more than likely on the extreme end--when he notices a faint blue glow on Anon's grid-suit. Anon hasn't noticed the glow, having his head in hands.

Gibson turns around to see what is causing the blue glow, and jumps slightly when he sees a circle floating in midair--there isn't really another way to describe it. It's glowing a soft blue, and has a smaller circle spinning from left to right in its center.

Gibson inches towards the circle, curiosity taking hold, until--

"Hello!" The circle says suddenly, in a chipper feminine voice.

Gibson jumps back in response, and pulls his disk out instinctually, taking a defensive stance that Anon taught him.

Anon, recognizing the voice, perks up, and jumps to his feet with a smile on his face, which Gibson doesn't see--not aware of the circle's significance.

"What the hell is--" Gibson starts, but is interrupted when the circle emits a blue light that envelops him, sending a warmth through his body, as the light travels from his head to his feet. He primes his disc in response, the edges humming to life, ready to strike.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Anon says, springing to Gibson's side, taking a hold of Gibson's disc hand, "I know what this is!"

"You do?" Gibson asks, hesitantly.

"Yes, it was how I got into the club," Anon says assuredly, easing Gibson's arm down.

Gibson looks to Anon and then at the circle again, and hears Anon's voice in his head explaining exactly what's in front of him, and wonders why he didn't see it at first. Tentatively, he lowers his disk hand, and deactivates the humming weapon; but doesn't stow it. Just in case.

"So, how does it work?" Gibson asks, examining the circle, but not getting too close.

"Uhm, last time it just scanned me--like it did you just now--and then it expanded into a portal of sorts," Anon explains.

"That easy huh?" Gibson remarks, "so, why isn't it--"

"Welcome programs!" The circle says suddenly, interrupting Gibson, and causing him to jump back into Anon, who chuckles, and squeezes Gibson's arms comfortingly.

The circle then expands to form a blue rectangle, cool and inviting.

"User," Gibson says, ogling the rectangle of cool blue light; approaching and walking around it, curiosity overwhelming his previous trepidation, noticing it can't be more than a millimeter thick, "Where do you think it leads?"

"Rocky?" Anon replies, hopefully.

"Right, it can't be a coincidence that the second we mention him, this thing shows up," Gibson remarks, turning to Anon, "But, can we trust him?"

"Of, course!" Anon says immediately, slightly hurt at Gibson's doubt in Rocky.

Gibson flinches at Anon's immediate response. Jealousy, mixed with guilt at his comment, hits him in his gut. He forces a smile to assure Anon that he trusts him, and reminds himself that Anon chose him.

Anon smiles back at Gibson, and closes the distance between them to plant a kiss on Gibson. He'd come to know when Gibson gets jealous, and uses the kiss to reassure Gibson.

While Anon is disappointed Gibson doesn't trust himself completely to know that Anon only loves him, he's overcome with an immense feeling of attraction to Gibson at his show of jealousy, knowing that Gibson cares enough about him to feel possessive of him; and is curiously feeling aroused at the notion of being owned.

Pulling back from the kiss, Gibson sees a hunger in Anon's eyes that he knows means Anon is aroused, which means that he's been caught being jealous. He can't help it really, he just loves Anon. He loves the wide-eyed curiosity Anon has. Gibson just doesn't want to share.

Gibson and Anon quell the rising need within themselves, knowing they need to at least try to fulfill their intention for coming all this way to Argon, and turn to the rectangle of light that will lead them to a purpose they aren't sure they want anymore; feeling in the backs of their minds, that they already have one.

Chapter Text

Anon and Gibson emerge into blackness, the only light being emitted from the rectangle they just stepped out of, and the lights of their grid suits. The rectangle recedes back into its circular form, and moves in front of them.

"So, what now?" Gibson wonders aloud.

"I'm not-" Anon starts.

"Please, follow," The circle declares, answering their query, and moves forward several meters; but stops when neither Anon or Gibson move to follow.

Anon looks to Gibson, knowing he still has his doubts.

"I trust you," Gibson says, placing a hand on Anon's shoulder, smiling assuredly, and moves to follow the circle, Anon by his side.

The circle moves ahead the pair, humming cheerily; illuminating only a few meters in diameter of the inky blackness, dulling the senses of Anon and Gibson and making all sense of the passage of time inert.

It feels like they've walked for hours, the only sound made coming from the circle humming, and Anon and Gibson's footfalls.

Eventually, a pinprick of light comes in to view. The light slowly grows to illuminate a single solitary rectangular grid block. Once they're within a few meters of the illuminated area, a figure starts to solidify behind the block. It forms into the distinct shape of a program. Broad shoulders, chest, and a strong jaw instantly tell Gibson who's awaiting them.

"Rocky!" Anon shouts excitedly, picking up his pace as he recognizes his only other friend.

Gibson shoves down the rising lump in his throat, and resists the urge to grab Anon's hand so to keep him to himself.

Once they've reached the block, which Gibson now recognizes as a bar, the circle dims and goes to place itself behind Rocky, who, Gibson now sees has sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a strong chiseled jaw, and is wearing the tightest shirt ever, that does nothing to hide just how well-defined Rocky is.

"Anon! It's good to see you!" Rocky says, matching Anon's enthusiasm.

Anon briefly considers going over and hugging Rocky, but is instantly reminded of Gibson's jealousy of Rocky, noting how quiet Gibson is at the moment, and decides against it.

Rocky, reading the situation, doesn't move to hug Anon either, but instead gives Anon a wink, motioning with his eyes towards Gibson, causing Anon to blush.

Gibson, keen on not wanting to see Anon's and Rocky's reintroductions, had looked away from the two, pretending to find the surface of the bar very interesting.

"Can I get you boys anything?" Rocky asks, breaking the pregnant pause the trio found themselves in, Anon smiling shyly at Rocky's knowing grin, and Gibson picking at non-existent lint on his hoodie.

"Yes, please," Gibson says, just now looking up.

Rocky flashes Gibson a genuine smile, and starts preparing two drinks. Gibson returns Rocky's smile with an attempted smirk, and takes the opportunity to fully size up Rocky. And Gibson has to admit just how attractive the blonde-haired Adonis is. A perfect specimen, having all the trademark attractive qualities.

Hell, if he weren't head over heels for Anon, and had enough liquid courage after a night of clubbing, Gibson would try and get a night of fun out of the sex-on-a-stick in front of him.

Gibson continues watching Rocky preparing their drinks, especially the way the blonde-haired Adonis' body moves, and he suddenly feels incredibly self-conscious.

Why in Flynn's name is Anon even with me, and not the definition of lust in front of them!? What does Anon see in him!? Why-!?

Gibson is torn from his self-deprecating thoughts when he feels a hand on his shoulder that shocks him into reality. Gibson turns to see Anon looking at him worriedly, having noticed Gibson's strained body language, and gives Anon a weak smile that does nothing to convince either of them nothing's wrong.

"Sorry to interrupt boys," Rocky interjects, probably intentionally, both programs wearing their emotions on their sleeves at the moment, "your drinks are ready."

Rocky sets two tall, slim glasses on the bar, the liquid glowing neon pink. Gibson eyes the not-so-subtle drinks, blushing at Rocky's knowledge of their pairing, and half expecting pink hearts to start coming out of the glasses. Anon, on the other hand, gleefully takes his drink, unbeknownst to its connotation.

Rocky observes the pair, grinning at each's reaction to his peace offering; having no intention of coming between his new friend and his smitten ISO. He's pleased at Anon's progress, sensing the new code running through the no-longer-basic program; allowing him to have all that he wants.

Gibson takes a sip of his drink. It's sweet and bubbly, akin to the feeling of butterflies in one's stomach, once it goes down. He looks up to Rocky, who's smiling genuinely, and Gibson gets hit with a pang of guilt. Rocky doesn't want Anon. Not in the way he fears, and Gibson feels bad that he's judged Rocky on a perceived behavior, stemming from stupid jealousy.

"Rocky, I-" Gibson starts, intending to apologize.

"I understand," Rocky interjects, "and there's no need."

Gibson blushes. Was he really that obvious? And, did Rocky just read his mind?

"That was delicious!"

Gibson and Rocky turn to Anon, who's holding his glass with both hands, and there's a thin film of pink on his upper lip. Gibson's heart swells, and he grins stupidly, observing the naive, cuter-than-words program. He walks up to Anon and gently wipes the pink away with his sleeve.

Then, Anon surprises Gibson with a quick kiss, followed by a hiccup. Gibson can smell the pink drink wafting off of Anon and figures the program must be experiencing a bit of an overload, having drank the entire glass rather quickly, and returns the kiss, planting it on Anon's cheek.

Anon giggles, and hiccups again. He starts to sway, and then slumps forward into Gibson.

"Whoa there, buddy!" Gibson says, catching Anon.

"I, I feel... tingly-hic!-"

"Yeah, I should'a warned yah there, buddy," Gibson pats Anon's back, and then starts rubbing circles, until Anon starts to hum contently. Gibson figures, much like everything else Anon experiences-especially the first time-the pink liquid is affecting him more than normal.

"I-hic!-I feel, sleepy," Anon mumbles into Gibson's shoulder.

"Okay, you need to sit down," Gibson says. A grid block forms next to them.

"Here yah go, buddy," Gibson gently sits Anon down on the block, and then sits next to him.

Anon leans into his side and mutters something incoherent, and then pushes more into Gibson, who guides the security program's head down until he's resting in his lap. A few seconds later, Gibson can hear light snores, and cards his hand through Anon's short hair.

Rocky observes the pair, who seem to have completely forgotten about his existence. He can see the care Gibson has for Anon, and knows he made the right decision.