deadlock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
driftlock) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crux_fleet2014-04-06 12:07 am
driftlock) wrote in crux_fleet2014-04-06 12:07 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
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.
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.
no subject
He doesn't count on luck, though: he's gonna count on his warm oil and the line of his thumbs along her back seams to do the trick. If he does this right, she'll start snoring (and maybe even drooling) into the carpet, and he just might liberate a grenade from her collection on his way out. Maybe. But he'd leave breakfast on the stove for her.
no subject
And she's already drooling on the carpet so he's a step ahead. The roll of his thumbs along her black plating draws a long, low groan out of her, almost entirely muffled by carpet. Her spoiler droops the rest of the way, ankles falling outward as her frame gives up the last of the ghost. It's been a long, hard day fighting baddies, she's got no fight left in her for this, and she doesn't really want to anyway. So slipping into a recharge right here is exactly what she's going to do.
And maybe there is snoring, assisted by the carpet pressed against her mouth and grille. Shhhh, don't tell her, she thinks she's silent sleeper!