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shadow_vector2010-07-10 11:01 am
First Kiss
Bayverse
Grindor/Blackout
KISSING!!!!
768 words
28 minutes
written for an old tf_speedwriting prompt: first kiss. Yeah, it's cheezy. Shush.
It started out as a joke. A dare. Someone (Barricade) who knew that copters are ruthlessly competitive and liked to stir things up. Or, as Grindor considered it, to amuse himself. Somehow it had come about though, and Grindor wasn’t exactly sure how, that he was standing in front of Blackout’s recharge cube, more than a little overcharged, attempting to get a kiss. It certainly was a kinky idea. So kinky that Grindor’s interface systems trilled, even as mortification seemed to bubble through his tank.
“I, uhh, hi,” he said as the darker copter answered the door. His rotors trembled in excitement. He had always noticed how hot Blackout was. He guessed he’d just thought it was weird until Barricade had spent half a cycle whispering enticements into his audio.
“Hi?” Blackout echoed, sounding half-asleep and a little confused. He had, after all, ducked out of the party early. Probably, Grindor thought, wise of him. He’d known the little grounder long enough, probably, to know that this sort of thing ensued from staying too long at one of Barricade’s infamous parties.
Chalk it up to New Guy Syndrome, he thought, ruefully. “Hey.” Slag! He’d had a line. Really he had one! He’d thought it up on the way over here. A line of such scintillating charm and wit that not only would Blackout have kissed him—spontaneously—but he would have been graced with one of Blackout’s very, very rare smiles.
And.
He had completely forgotten it.
“I, uh…hey. We missed you at the party.” LAME! So lame Grindor felt his rotors slicking to a narrow line down his back. Blackout would laugh in his face at the lame, except that the other copter was too polite.
“Yeah, well, I gotta long day tomorrow,” Blackout said.
“Oh. So. I’m…interrupting your recharge?” Grindor winced as he noticed that some of Blackout’s rotors were askew. He’d woken him out of recharge. Not, as Blackout would say, cool.
Blackout shook his head. “No big deal. You…doing okay? They bother you at the party or something?” His optics glimmered with concern.
“No! It was a really cool party. I’ve, uh, never been to anything like it.”
A soft sound that might have been a laugh. “Understatement, I bet. Left right when the kissing contest started. Starscream and Skywarp always win that.”
“Because they don’t need to ventilate in space. It’s cheating.” Yeah, Grindor had noticed that. And also, had been seriously turned on by that. Which was when Barricade had pulled him aside and….
“And they have that stupid pride thing where they have to prove airframes are superior at everything.” Blackout said, shaking his head, bemused.
“Yeah, well, jets are nice, but copters are better.” Grindor blinked. That was an asinine thing to say, fueled only by how hot Blackout looked, even recharge-mussed, the bright light from the corridor glossing his dark facial armor, casting bright, alluring sheens in the red of his optics. Grindor was entranced.
“Well, yeah,” Blackout said. And then, suddenly, unbelievably, he grinned, the pointed angle of his mouth spreading. “Everyone knows that.”
Grindor quivered, feeling his tail rotor’s engine cycle on from pure, hot desire. “Maybe we can win next time!” he blurted.
Blackout tilted his head, his crest almost bumping his shoulder armor. “We…can. But,” and the optics suddenly spiraled wide, taking a wicked glint Grindor had never seen before, a glint that turned his servos to limp cables. “We’ll need a lot of practice.”
He stood, in open invitation, his mouth flicking amusedly as Grindor wobbled on his broad feet, wavering between desire and worry, the challenge and the fear of overstepping. Grindor lunged in, suddenly, a little unsteadily, pulling Blackout’s face towards his. Their mouths met, metal sliding silkily on metal, the soft tingle of their EM fields sending delicious shimmers down their sensor arrays.
Blackout probed Grindor’s mouth, just the surface of the plating, with his pliable glossa, before pulling away, leaning his crest against Grindor’s. “Barricade put you up to this?” he asked, gently.
“…yeah,” Grindor said. He shrank back a bit, but not enough to pull away, especially not to pull his sensitive crest away from Blackout’s. “He, uh, didn’t really have to try very hard.”
“Yeah? He’s got a copter kink.”
“Figured that.”
“So,” and one of Blackout’s optics winked. “Next party, how ‘bout we blow his little circuits?”
Grindor could just imagine it—the two of them, in front of Barricade. “Best revenge I can think of,” he said, tipping his mouth against Blackout’s, feeling the grin give way underneath his mouth to a much more serious kiss.
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And.
He had completely forgotten it.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
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