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Who: Deadlock and Flashpoint
Where: Flashpoint's quarters
When: The day after the attack is repelled
What: Someone has been hit by the huggy happy virus.
Warnings: Huglock.

The plan was simple: Deadlock grabbed his trophy from his latest kick-aftery, to show it to Flashpoint and make the annoying Autobot realize how much more awesome he was than she was. Maybe even get her to etch that on the battered armor of the helmet he'd taken off the bad guy for good measure. He was wording exactly how she should phrase it when he bumped into the annoying squishy, but, whatever. Brownian motion took its course and the human boinged off him and back into the crowd, and Deadlock was in far too good a mood to chase after and threaten it. There was a Flashpoint to irk and he never let go of mission objectives.

Except fraggin' Flashpoint wasn't home. Primus dammit, how dare she not be here to receive her taunting?!

Fine. He could wait. He slumped on her couch for a while, tapping his foot, helmet beside him. Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting was boring. And you know what? That picture was fraggin' crooked and it was driving him nuts. And then, fraggit, the utensils in the drawer weren't all square to each other. And then....

....when Flashpoint finally arrives home, it will be to find him on his hands and knees in her bedroom, de-dustbunnying under the bed. He may, in fact, even be humming.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Apology accepted." What can he say? He's in a generous mood. And it's kind of...uh...nice, to snuggle up behind her.

She should let him do this place up a bit more. You know, couple more trophies, some throw pillows....

"Well, yeah, they're all weird, but she's at least, you know, nice." Which doesn't seem quite as objectionable now, for some reason.

"She's never done it before." You know, so cut her some slack. "She was too busy yelling at me for getting shot." And he was too busy being a ginormous badaft and acting like it didn't hurt. So, you know, one of those things. "But how'd you get these?"

Her optics go a little wide at the contact, a touch uncertain, but when he doesn't pull away she let's herself relax back into it, air sighing from her vents.

Really she's starting to think Deadlock himself is rather nice addition to her place. Where she got that crazy idea who knows, but she's feeling pretty content with the idea right now. And heck, if he wants to decorate--as long as it's not propaganda--Flashpoint's all good with it.

"Good for her. I'd yell at ya too for getting shot." Because, uh, reasons. And stuff. "You know...if you ever need...repairs or whatever. I can do it for you." And she means without being all weird. Unless he brings the weird in which case that's not her fault.

Flashpoint's helm swivels, looking back at the patches he's indicating, realizing too late she's come dangerously close to meeting his optics. "Uh.....a ship. A ship broke through, took the sky park. Had some really strange weaponry on it."

Don't worry. Deadlock's personal copy of Megatron's Greatest Speeches will remain in his place. Not everyone can handle his sexy voice.

"Hey!" He frowns. "I was fighting. It was a lucky shot." That's all. Jerks. "Besides. I got shot in the arm, but they got a lot worse."

As in, well, trophy helmet here. Sure taught him a lesson!

"I. Uh. Yeah. Not like I'm planning on getting shot again." But let's face it, it's just a matter of time.

He laughs. "Frag, the security in this place sucks." Bikers, explosions, ships through the park...yeah. These people were idiots.

That might be best. Because it's true, not everyone can handle Megatron's sexy voice and she might just use it for purposes not as advertised. ~~Because she's a pervert like that. And the worst Autobot ever.~~

She gives his hand a comforting pat. "Hey don't worry, if you got out totally unscathed I'd say you weren't working hard enough." Yes that's totally contradictory to yelling at him for getting shot but whatever she has a lot of conflicting feelings right now okay?

"Never plan on that stuff though. Slag just happens and then you wish you hadn't pissed off your medic." Oops, she may have done that more than once. "And really, you'd think the military would do something about that...." Oh, now she's really poking fun at you, military guy Deadlock.

~~Hey only Deadlock can do that with Megatron's sexyvoice. Get your own kink.~~

Still, he feels mollified by her admission. "Worked plenty hard. Not that it's hard to outdo most of these squishies." What? He may be feeling all warm and cuddly, but he's still a Cybertronian warrior.

Just a snuggly one.

"Best cure for a medic's attitude is a pulse rifle to the face." Deadlock's got them handled. Which might explain why most of his repairs look a little...sloppy. Hard to do one's best with a gun's bore staring you down.

"Hngh. Next time I just won't follow orders, then." Eh, it was a weird habit anyway. "You're not drinking."

~~Can she watch then?~~

"Hey, they can build some pretty impressive equipment to compensate for that. Back on Earth they developed technology that could force us into altmode and lock out our primary functions." She's still not happy about that, but she'd be even less so if she'd been one of the ones caught.

And who says Cybertronian warriors can't be snuggly? If he needs any validation on that point, Flashpoint's here to provide it, and anyone who argues gets a smack to the face.

"Deadlock, that doesn't encourage me to preform as your medic." Wait. Did she just use his real name? Not some nickname that sits somewhere between asinine and cute that's insulting either way? Oops. It must have slipped out. "You couldn't take me at point blank range anyway."

Well. Not with a pulse rifle anyway. Depends on what else he aims at her.

~~Not if he's sober~~

"Who's side are you fraggin' on?" Because really stop talking up the enemy. Uh. Allies. Whatever.

And Deadlock's mightly pointy armor says he can't be snuggly. Just look at him, being all pointy and sharp. You'd have to be an idiot to cuddle with him. Or well-armored.

"Who said I was gonna need a medic, anyway?" Other, you know, than fate and statistics? "Besides. you'd do a good job." So he wouldn't have to buttstock you to the face. Wow, the compliments are really flying here tonight.

~~That's okay, she is the engex fairy.~~

"Ours! Duh." Have a little elbow into your side Deadlock. And a little pout over her shoulder. "They targeted us all you know, Autobot and Decepticon alike. The humans didn't like their planet being invaded."

And Flashpoint is both an idiot and well armored, so she's well equipped for this kind of snuggle time. And her backstrut fits rather nicely against the slope of his belly thanks, she's doing alright avoiding the pokey bits so far. Hopefully he doesn't touch her tires though...depending on how they're handled she could be purring like a Porsche and asleep on him in five minutes, or revving her engine and looking for a different kind of action.

"Boredom. Cuz that's what you'll be if you don't get yourself into a worthy fight every now and then." Don't argue Deadlock, you know she's right. Flashpoint grins to herself at the compliment, glad he can't see her faceplates heat. There's a happy little ripple through her EM field she can't hide though. "I try. Someone's gotta."

~~So those doorflaps are her fairy wings?~~

"Yeah, well, no one asked them." Stupid organics. It's kind of a weird point for him because he is all about the Decepticon cause, but not quite with the conquest thing. So he's just going to TRALALALA not hear anything morally iffy right now.

Why should he when he's got a warm, clean smelling chassis pressed against him?

"Hey, I do other stuff besides fight." Uh. Just don't ask what those might be. He can clean, though? And maybe see if this spot right here's a little ticklish. It's an evasive maneuver, shush.

~~Yes, she gets helicopter butt when sprinkled with fairy dust. She doesn't like to talk about it though and she's invisible unless you're drunk.~~

"Sixshot kinda did. And Devastator. If by 'asking' you mean 'smashing'." Yeah that's not morally questionable at all. Not that she wants to press the subject. She'd rather press against him instead, maybe one hand searching for his but not in any hand-holding kind of way. Just, ya know, BECAUSE.

Oh wait...that's what his hand is up to. That spot's not ticklish but it's damn close. She clamps her lip plates around a little mewl lest she give herself away, trying not to squirm in the process.

~~Don't tease him with such ineffable cuteness~~

"Yeah, well, Sixshot really isn't a talky guy." This from Deadlock, the master of monosyllables. He had the usual Decepticon half-fear half-contempt respect for Phase Sixers--they did the dirty work, but it was such unfair odds it could hardly be called war.

He'd rather not think about more mechs bigger than he is, not when he's got an almost squirming body against his. If he knew what to do, if he had any sort of suaveness, he'd be doing it, now. Instead, he's just going to, uh, improvise, bending down to chuff some air out of his vents at her exposed throat cables.

"So I've heard." She can't imagine what it must be like to eat in the messhall with him. Do Phase Sixers even do lunch with common soldiers?

If Deadlock was suave they'd be getting into a whole lot more trouble than they are right now. Or rather, a whole lot more FUN that might make for trouble later, or least 10 times more awkward than this already is.

As it is though, the huff of warm air past her neck gets a little gasp and a real squirm this time, and a muffled noise slipping past her hand. Well, two can play at that game. Not that she plays it overly well herself--or can reach much of him for that matter--but she'll improvise by tracing her fingers over the seams of his outer thigh armor and down to the joint of his knee. What? She has to put her hands somewhere!

Last he heard Sixshot had the Terrorcons flailing over him and after what he'd heard about Blot? Yeah...he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what Phase Sixers did for fun.

But she should realize, honestly, he's in the far better tactical position here, so she can try to tickle his knees, yeah, and maybe he'll laugh, but any squirming he does is gonna be right against the back of her armor, his fingertips skimming over the front of her chassis.

On second thought Flashpoint will pass too. It might make an interesting documentary but right now this movie is way more interesting. Like the vaguely inappropriate things that woman is doing to that tank.

Flashpoint really shouldn't be having inappropriate thoughts right now. And really, the warm and fuzzy part of her shoves thoughts of interfacing into the back corner of her mind. It's complicated and there's power struggles and awkwardness and really can she just lay here and be petted till she feels loved? And maybe makeouts. That'd be okay too.

Wait... what did she just...?

Eh, whatever. The sound of his laugh is too good, and that distracting squirm is just validation that she's found sensitive spot, and where there's one there must be more, right? Flashpoint'll just look for them, trying not to be distracted by the fingers roaming over her chassis.

"Asking for trouble now."

Possibly the only thing more terrifying than Deadlock with a gun, is a giggly Deadlock. At least half the armies at Dabola would swear to that. So it's obviously a real test of her mettle that she's going for more.

Which might end up backfiring because giggly!Deadlock is also squirmy!Deadlock who might end up accidentally dumping them both on the floor.

Spoiler: Flashpoint is always asking for trouble. It's how she knows she's alive, her own version of thriving, even if there isn't a 'happiness' label on it.

And yeah, she'll put 'being terrified of Deadlock giggles' on her to-do list. Maybe she should up the priority on that though, because here comes good reason to. Suddenly she's on the floor with a squawk, air knocked from her vents, Deadlock tangled in her kibble and marginally on top. Wait, how did this happen!?

It happened due to Deadlock's impeccable reflexes. You believe that, right? You better, because right now he kinda has you at his mercy.

"Hnf. You look better like this, anyway." HAHAH Deadlock has the funniest one-liners.

So he was planning to put her on the floor all this time, eh? Smells like ulterior motives!

"Oh yeah? Better say that to my face." Because it's face down into the floor right now. Well, except when she tosses the taunt over her shoulder at him. Maybe it's just a dare to kiss her again, bet he's too chicken. Well, he'll have to decide which end he wants to deal with, because she's just gonna wiggle her aft under him now. At his mercy, indeed!

Yeah, he, uh, totally planned that. And everything. Because he's that good.

And don't remotely dare Deadlock to do anything, because he totally will. She might be face down on the floor, but that doesn't spell 'mercy' to Deadlock. At least not as, you know, weird as he's feeling right now. He slithers on top of her, pressing his mouth against her audio. "You look tense, Flashpoint." You need a massage? ~~tickles~~?

Oh she is tense alright, but not in a bad way really. At least the part of her that's saying it might be bad is some distance far enough away it might as well be another dimension.

She tries not to whine at the way his plating slides over her back, the warmth of his words washing over her audio. Yeah, she deserved that right? Revenge for all the wiggling? She can't stop the shift in tone of her engine though, which sounds interested. "B-been a long day. You expectin' something else?"

"Well, I mean, you've already had a bath and some engex." Seriously, she should be a limp noodle by now. Which means, yes, massage is called for. He's just gonna sit up, straddling her hips, wiggle his fingers, and get to work.

She's about to protest--weakly mind you, because in truth she's loving all the attention--when he takes up position on her aft, thighs sliding over the doorpanels that have fallen to her sides now.

"Nnnf," she says instead, her engine giving a low purring rumble, because there aren't many things that come in contact with her aft terribly often, protected the way it is by those panels. Certainly not his--YEAH ANYWAY. This is Flashpoint, trying to relax, maybe melt into the floor, and not think about how much of a turn-on this would be under different circumstances.

She better learn the lesson here: always let the ~~wookie~~ Decepticon win. Especially right now. Besides, that engine rumble tells him everything he wants to hear right now, and so he slides his thumbs up along the seams in her back armor, hoping to get a squeak, too, out of her, and never you mind about where his YEAH ANYWAY is. He's here to clean, and that is a very, very dirty thought.

Sorry Deadlock, it takes more than that for Flashpoint to learn her lessons. Obviously they need to go a few rounds before she gets it. And in the process Deadlock might learn his lesson: Never pick a fight with a dirty Autobot, or you might end up dirty yourself.

There's a long, low groan that ebbs out of her and into the floor, Deadlock's trip up her back both tantalizing and seems to push the stress out of her at the same time. That is until he comes to her v-shaped back vents, the very ones that appear in her alt's hood for engine cooling. That's when he gets a squeak. Because hey! Those are some important parts you're touchin' mister!

Yeah, don't forget he's seen how dirty this slaggin' place is. Was. Before he got to work with his magic cleaning fingers.

You got it, Flashpoint, those magic fingers that are magicing that squeak out of her. "Sensitive?" Because he remembers a ticklish Flashpoint. Ahem. He could go down that wriggly road, to hear her laugh.

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I'm noticing a trend of them dumping themselves on the floor...

graceful cybertronian warriors

yes that exactly. they should do ballet...gun ballet

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/lays here

/lays next to

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wrap soon?

Works for me!

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