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Title: You and I Collide: Getting Under the Chassis
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1106
Characters: Sandstorm, Fireflight, Roadbuster
Summary: Repost. The morning after doesn't go well.
When Sandstorm came online he was on alert. Not a full or even high alert, he was just aware of everything all at once. He was aware, for one, that he was not in his own quarters or even those assigned to the Wreckers for this mission. He was also aware that he lay on his front in a berth made for one with someone else scrunched up half on top of him and realizing that unfamiliar sensation on his faceplate was the fact the lower part of his battlemask was retracted. And he was very much aware that someone was querying him to establish a tight link and- according to his readouts –has been trying to for…
Sandstorm’s optics flared on in a flash of red. He’d been recharging for five cycles? He’s never recharged for that long even before he became a Wrecker! He answered the comm-request even as he pulled up a diagnostic to see if there were any ailments or wounds that knocked him out longer than he intended.
“Primus- it’s about time!”
“RB,” he responded, trying to hide his confusion as all his systems were coming back green, “what’s the word?” Topspin’s quick patch took care of all the heavy damage and his automated repair system cleared up everything else with barely any noteworthy strain. So how did he recharge for so long?
There was a long pause on the other end. “Sandstorm, do you realize what time it is?”
“Yes?”
“Do you realize what you were supposed to do two cycles ago?”
Sandstorm winced to himself. “Go out on recon?”
“Affirmative.” All though his voice was low and carefully even, Sandstorm could hear exactly how livid Roadbuster was. “Where. Are. You.”
The triplechanger hesitated. “In Fireflight’s quarters.” He caught the first couple swears before Roadbuster muted his end of the link.
“You have an excuse as to why you were missing and not answering any comms, I take it?”
For a brief moment Sandstorm considered lying- had no problems doing so on the fly. But Roadbuster was sharp enough to see through most of them and Sandstorm doubted it would do much good anyway. “I really don’t.” He admitted.
“Well because of this Springer had to coordinate Twin Twist and Scoop on fortifications with inadequate information. He’s already torqued all to hell so get down here now, Sandstorm.”
“Understood.” He said meekly. “I’m on my way.”
The line clicked dead and then Sandstorm realized he had another problem: that of trying to get out from under Fireflight without disturbing him. He twisted best he could to take in their positions and calculate the best way to move and… felt reluctant to do so. Fireflight’s weight was comfortable and warm, the soft hum of his engine the barest of vibrations at Sandstorm’s side and it was kind of nice having the angled wing pressing low on his back.
Primus, he thought to himself, I’m about to get myself gutted and quartered in the most painful ways imaginable and I’m worried about waking up Flight.
Even with that admonishment in his processor, Sandstorm still tried as carefully as he could to wriggle his way free. He managed to get his upper body out from under Fireflight with little incident (with the exception of when the Aerialbot tightening his arm or snuggling closer to Sandstorm’s wing) but the main trouble came from below. That is, the two of them had managed to turn their legs and tails into a mess of tangled parts. By the time he managed to free one leg, he realized he was being watched.
Fireflight’s blue optics held him with a soft kind of intensity. “Hi.” He said quietly.
“Um.” Sandstorm replied. “Hey.”
“Have to go?”
“Yeah. Late, actually.” He turned his attention back to their entwined legs, finding it a little more difficult to focus with the Aerialbot looking at him like that. Fireflight shifted next to him and then sat up. They didn’t say much as they pulled themselves apart and the jet continued to watch quietly, thoughtfully as Sandstorm stood from the berth and stretched a bit.
“Um… Sandstorm?” Fireflight drew his knees up to his chest, looking at the Wrecker from under his helmet. “Afterwards are you… will you… come back? I mean, I know you still have a mission and I’m not saying you won’t come back at all- what I means is- I, uh…” He paused, faceplates pinched with concentration as he tried to word his thoughts. “Will you come back? Here, I mean. T-To…”
Even though Fireflight didn’t finish the sentence, Sandstorm knew what he was trying to say and that made his processor halt. There was no one more aware of his reputation than Sandstorm and he knew just as well as anyone that the Aerialbots had a fierce protective streak few others could hope to match. He already accepted Slingshot was going to be giving him all sorts of slag about this quick fling as it was. But with the potential of Sandstorm breaking the spark of their most impressionable member was asking to bring a world of hurt upon himself.
And even without that Sandstorm was still hesitant to say yes. Because asides from the gratification, he didn’t much care for his partners and tended to end relationships on a sour note just because he couldn’t be bothered to try being nice about it. He stirred up a lot of animosity among other Autobots (and the occasional neutral) doing things like that but it didn’t make much of a difference to him.
Fireflight, though, was nice. And sweet and a little naïve on the workings of the side of the universe that Sandstorm was so intimately aware of and had lived most of his life by. They had chatted most of the night and Sandstorm had found himself coming to actually really like the red jet and the idea that he could be putting himself on the path of ultimately devastating the mech made him feel a little queasy.
But… it’s not like Fireflight wouldn’t know about his habits, right? Everyone did. And even if he didn’t, Sandstorm could bet one- if not all –of the other Aerialbots did and would tell him it would be a bad idea to get involved in that.
“You do know who you’re asking, right?” He asked, more than a little cautiously.
Fireflight nodded. “Yeah.” He held Sandstorm’s gaze with a hopeful determination.
Sandstorm steeled himself, not really understanding why this seemed like such a big deal. “Alright,” he said at last, “if that’s what you really want. I’ll come back to you.”
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1106
Characters: Sandstorm, Fireflight, Roadbuster
Summary: Repost. The morning after doesn't go well.
When Sandstorm came online he was on alert. Not a full or even high alert, he was just aware of everything all at once. He was aware, for one, that he was not in his own quarters or even those assigned to the Wreckers for this mission. He was also aware that he lay on his front in a berth made for one with someone else scrunched up half on top of him and realizing that unfamiliar sensation on his faceplate was the fact the lower part of his battlemask was retracted. And he was very much aware that someone was querying him to establish a tight link and- according to his readouts –has been trying to for…
Sandstorm’s optics flared on in a flash of red. He’d been recharging for five cycles? He’s never recharged for that long even before he became a Wrecker! He answered the comm-request even as he pulled up a diagnostic to see if there were any ailments or wounds that knocked him out longer than he intended.
“Primus- it’s about time!”
“RB,” he responded, trying to hide his confusion as all his systems were coming back green, “what’s the word?” Topspin’s quick patch took care of all the heavy damage and his automated repair system cleared up everything else with barely any noteworthy strain. So how did he recharge for so long?
There was a long pause on the other end. “Sandstorm, do you realize what time it is?”
“Yes?”
“Do you realize what you were supposed to do two cycles ago?”
Sandstorm winced to himself. “Go out on recon?”
“Affirmative.” All though his voice was low and carefully even, Sandstorm could hear exactly how livid Roadbuster was. “Where. Are. You.”
The triplechanger hesitated. “In Fireflight’s quarters.” He caught the first couple swears before Roadbuster muted his end of the link.
“You have an excuse as to why you were missing and not answering any comms, I take it?”
For a brief moment Sandstorm considered lying- had no problems doing so on the fly. But Roadbuster was sharp enough to see through most of them and Sandstorm doubted it would do much good anyway. “I really don’t.” He admitted.
“Well because of this Springer had to coordinate Twin Twist and Scoop on fortifications with inadequate information. He’s already torqued all to hell so get down here now, Sandstorm.”
“Understood.” He said meekly. “I’m on my way.”
The line clicked dead and then Sandstorm realized he had another problem: that of trying to get out from under Fireflight without disturbing him. He twisted best he could to take in their positions and calculate the best way to move and… felt reluctant to do so. Fireflight’s weight was comfortable and warm, the soft hum of his engine the barest of vibrations at Sandstorm’s side and it was kind of nice having the angled wing pressing low on his back.
Primus, he thought to himself, I’m about to get myself gutted and quartered in the most painful ways imaginable and I’m worried about waking up Flight.
Even with that admonishment in his processor, Sandstorm still tried as carefully as he could to wriggle his way free. He managed to get his upper body out from under Fireflight with little incident (with the exception of when the Aerialbot tightening his arm or snuggling closer to Sandstorm’s wing) but the main trouble came from below. That is, the two of them had managed to turn their legs and tails into a mess of tangled parts. By the time he managed to free one leg, he realized he was being watched.
Fireflight’s blue optics held him with a soft kind of intensity. “Hi.” He said quietly.
“Um.” Sandstorm replied. “Hey.”
“Have to go?”
“Yeah. Late, actually.” He turned his attention back to their entwined legs, finding it a little more difficult to focus with the Aerialbot looking at him like that. Fireflight shifted next to him and then sat up. They didn’t say much as they pulled themselves apart and the jet continued to watch quietly, thoughtfully as Sandstorm stood from the berth and stretched a bit.
“Um… Sandstorm?” Fireflight drew his knees up to his chest, looking at the Wrecker from under his helmet. “Afterwards are you… will you… come back? I mean, I know you still have a mission and I’m not saying you won’t come back at all- what I means is- I, uh…” He paused, faceplates pinched with concentration as he tried to word his thoughts. “Will you come back? Here, I mean. T-To…”
Even though Fireflight didn’t finish the sentence, Sandstorm knew what he was trying to say and that made his processor halt. There was no one more aware of his reputation than Sandstorm and he knew just as well as anyone that the Aerialbots had a fierce protective streak few others could hope to match. He already accepted Slingshot was going to be giving him all sorts of slag about this quick fling as it was. But with the potential of Sandstorm breaking the spark of their most impressionable member was asking to bring a world of hurt upon himself.
And even without that Sandstorm was still hesitant to say yes. Because asides from the gratification, he didn’t much care for his partners and tended to end relationships on a sour note just because he couldn’t be bothered to try being nice about it. He stirred up a lot of animosity among other Autobots (and the occasional neutral) doing things like that but it didn’t make much of a difference to him.
Fireflight, though, was nice. And sweet and a little naïve on the workings of the side of the universe that Sandstorm was so intimately aware of and had lived most of his life by. They had chatted most of the night and Sandstorm had found himself coming to actually really like the red jet and the idea that he could be putting himself on the path of ultimately devastating the mech made him feel a little queasy.
But… it’s not like Fireflight wouldn’t know about his habits, right? Everyone did. And even if he didn’t, Sandstorm could bet one- if not all –of the other Aerialbots did and would tell him it would be a bad idea to get involved in that.
“You do know who you’re asking, right?” He asked, more than a little cautiously.
Fireflight nodded. “Yeah.” He held Sandstorm’s gaze with a hopeful determination.
Sandstorm steeled himself, not really understanding why this seemed like such a big deal. “Alright,” he said at last, “if that’s what you really want. I’ll come back to you.”