deadlock (
driftlock) wrote in
crux_fleet2014-04-06 12:07 am
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(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 looks terrible in frilly apronsDon'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.
/lays here
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.
/lays next to
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?
no subject
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
notcareful, 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
wrap soon?
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.
Works for me!
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.
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!