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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.

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"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.

Hey, she makes no excuses for herself. If she's a slob it's because no one sees this place except her. And him, now. So you know, if Deadlock wants it clean then, that works out right?

Flashpoint stifles a whimper that's probably enough of an answer to his question. "...a-a little." Deadlock can certainly feel the degree of vibration there is from her engine. It's right there, under all the armor past the spinal strut, and sheer fact that she isn't throwing him off says a lot. The way her engine purrs says a lot too, a lot of other things. But those vents? Yeah. Maybe a little ticklish in that too-sensitive way. Don't you dare!, says the flick of her spoiler.

Edited 2014-06-20 19:41 (UTC)

He doesn't want to clean. Well, he does, right now, but, you know. It's not his job to be some Autobot's maid. ~~He looks terrible in frilly aprons~~

Don't tell Deadlock what he dares and doesn't dare to do, young missy. "Hey. Point is you're supposed to be relaxing." Never mind the whole 'pinned on the floor by vicious Decepticon' thing.

~~Frilly aprons on Deadlock, another thing Flashpoint would pay to see. And maybe get envious because why is wearing frilly aprons for other people?~~

She, uh, minds being pinned to the floor by a vicious Decepticon a whole lot less than is proper for an Autobot. Or that is normal for her really. Typically she'd prefer to be doing the pinning, see? But the warmth of him against her back and aft is too nice, positive attention she rarely sees, even with the playful taunting. He can't see it--thankfully!--but she smiles into the floor, touched by the idea in ways she's not going to admit, then ex-vents deeply in an effort to release tension.

"I'm relaxed." See? Positive reinforcement works wonders.

~~Fine, then she can wear the frilly apron~~

"You could be more relaxed," he says. Because it's totally some kind of weird contest now. Bath, drink, massage. He figures he's hitting the checklist of all the luxuries he'd never had. That's good, right?

~~Only for him and as long as there's no evidence.~~

"Y-you're doin' a plenty fine job of that..." It's true, the way his hands work over her back, forcing plating and joints and transformation seams to release tightness she didn't realize she was holding. Flashpoint's engine idles into a soft purr; if Deadlock's ~~not~~ careful, she'll fall asleep before she can cuddle him into a hostage situation.

"I owe you one, after all this...." Meaning she might want to return the favor someday. If he lets her.

~~Oh there will be evidence he will keep just in case anything...unflattering happens to his noodlebot.~~

That's it, Flashpoint, just get all loose and sleepy. Deadlock's not gonna steal your stuff, but not gonna lie, he'd get a secret thrill of this new addition to his arsenal for incapacitating Autobots.

It's not one he plans on trying out on any of those snotty senators, mind you. But hey, options are good. "You owe me a lot. But, you know that's for later." Now is for you to get all moooshy while the movie flickers a soft blue glow over your armor.

Flashpoint doesn't have a whole lot to steal, thankfully, unless you count grenades, dust fluffies and dirty dishes. And he better not tell anyone about his secret incapacitation techniques! If people found out being nice to Flashpoint was her weakness the world might come to an end.

And he better not be nice-touching those senators either! Or they'll have words. "I can do that. Later..." she mumbles out, making desperate but feeble attempts to stay awake.

Stop critiquing his master plans and live in fear of Deadlock stealing your stuff and...other evil stuff he can do, because he's evil.

Trust him, though, the last thing he's gonna tell anyone is about this. Because if being nice is her kryptonite, it's fraggin' WEIRD for him. He'd rather cut off his own hands before touching one of those snotty Senators, except to, you know, like poke their optics out or something.

"Later." Like after he's done spreading this warm oil on your spoiler? Yeah, that's right. He's ruthless even in his nice.

If this is evil then he can do evil stuff to her all he wants, any day, anytime. And is it weird-good or weird-bad? Because it's weird for her too but she's having trouble finding the bad. Other than the awkward of talking about this later and the fact that it Happened.

And she's okay with some senator eye-poking. Especially if she gets to watch.

Flashpoint lets out a long ex-vent coupled with a pleased groan, the kind that rumbles the plating loose in all the places you hold it too tight. There are some extremely vague questions about where he got the warm oil, but she so doesn't care right now. This is a luxury she's not had in...uh..she can't even remember when. Her fingertips knead the strands of the polyfiber rug under her; a thing they made her put in after her neighbors complained about the stompy metal feet, a thing she just might be drooling on right now.

"...t-totally later." What are they talking about again?

All weird is bad because Deadlock hates change. He's been his own charmingly scowlicious self for a few million years and that's worked for him just fine.

Mostly fine.

Okay, Turmoil hated him but frag Turmoil.

Not frag that way, either.

And he got the warm oil because he's been heating it against his engine block since he found it in her washrack, silly. "Good." Yeah he has no idea either and he's not even sure he can say 'good' in a normal day.

Sorry Deadlock, no matter how charmingly scowlicious you are (hey, it's worked on Flashpoint, apparently) you're still going to have deal with change.

It's your D E S T I N Y.

And keep Turmoil the Anti-fun out of this. Flashpoint's nice and relaxed and if Deadlock is both smart and lucky at the same time, she might fall into recharge right here, letting him escape with his dignity once he comes to his scowlicious senses.

And eeew, heating it against his engine block? That's....kind of sweet actually. In a maybe-gross way. It's sure doing its work though, her ventilations growing more and more even, frame more relaxed than its been in ages. She might actually get a decent night's recharge, the first in a very long time.

He's gonna punch destiny in the face. And maybe that McEngineer guy. Because frag him.

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.

That might be your own face Deadlock. Your own face on a body wearing an Autobrand. Yeah...that's gonna be a weird day when that comes out.

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!

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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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