Forlorn Hope 10 Best Plan EVER!!!
Dec. 26th, 2010 11:48 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
niyazi-a.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
shadow_vectorIDW/G1
Sixshot, Terrorcons
pnp, and, ummm, weirdness.
ch 1: Forlorn Hope
ch 2: Relapse
ch 3: Transgression
ch 4: First
ch 5: Rescue
ch 6: Half Truths and Shadows
ch 7: Coping Mechanism
ch 8: Kiss
ch 9: Of Mice and Terrorcons
Sixshot continues to...not cope so well. Is it working, do you think?
It had been, Hun-Grr thought, perhaps not the best idea the Terrorcons had ever had. You know. To invite Sixshot over and get him way, way overcharged. But it was definitely in their top five good ideas. Ever. Of all time.
And anyone who said the Terrorcons couldn’t function as a team clearly hadn’t seen the way they’d collaborated to get Sixshot where he was, right now, more or less passed out, in a sated pile of Terrorcon.
After four cubes in quick succession, Blot had worked up the nerve to ask to hold Sixshot’s hand. Which was, Hun-Grr admitted, a bit weird, but it was a start. And a promising start, as Sixshot had considered Blot for a moment, and then shrugged, and held out his hand. Blot was still holding it, his hands finding the white palm unerringly, even in drunken, sated recharge.
Three or four cubes later, and he started answering questions. In like…complete sentences. Which was hardly up to Sinnertwin’s level of constant babble, but was a lot. It had started fairly tame—about his ship, about his armor, then got a little bolder until Cutthroat had blurted out, “So, why did you save our afts back at Mumu?”
A screeching silence. Sixshot had frozen, as if his actuators locked down. The others glared at Cutthroat who gave an alarmed shrug. What? It was an honest question and if put to it they would all admit they wanted the answer.
“Mumu!” Blot blurted, eventually, singsong. “Mooo-moooooooooo.”
It was stupid—well, it was Blot, after all—but it broke the uncomfortable tension. Sixshot reached for another cube. Probably, Hun-Grr thought, in hopes it would make Blot’s singing less painful. Hun-Grr had tried the same tactic: it didn’t work.
“HEY!” Rippersnapper cut in, abruptly. “You have a beast mode, don’t you?”
Sixshot nodded. “Two, I guess. One’s just a powered up form of the other, though.” He lazed back against the couch, with another of those shrugs of his. As if it were no big deal. “Hard to stay in Wingwolf because the power tolerances are a bit fritzy.”
“Wingwolf?” Rippersnapper looked delighted. And intrigued.
And Sinnertwin looked…devious. “Can we see? I mean, just for a bit?” Sinnertwin twitched.
Sixshot tilted his head. “Don’t see why not.” He pushed up, draining his cube. He lay it on the table, pulling his hand free from Blot’s and transformed. He did it, Hun-Grr thought, deliberately. Nice, slow motion, plates sliding silkily over each other, mechanisms working smoothly. Showing off, maybe. Who knew that, a little drunk, Sixshot got a little vain? Well, Hun-Grr thought, he had every right to be. If he looked like Sixshot, he’d be vain all the fraggin’ time.
The wolf-mode managed a shrug, head turning to meet Sinnertwin’s gaze. “This.”
Sinnertwin twitched again, giving a strange snickering sound, and then launched himself at the mech, flipping swiftly into his alt, landing between the stubby wings of the wolf-thing, sinking one head’s teeth around Sixshot’s neck.
And, well, that’s when things had gotten really weird. You know, weird even for Terrorcons. But weird in a…kind of good way.
The two of them had roared, snarling, Sixshot rolling onto his back trying to crush Sinnertwin against the ground. More snarling, and flailing of limbs, the pair rolling over and over until they thunked against the wall, and then Sixshot had done a quick flip, landing with one paw smooshing one of Sinnertwin’s faces onto the floor.
“Trying to start something.” Sixshot had heaved, vents cycling loud under the strain of controlling the alt.
“Frag yeah,” Sinnertwin retorted. “We all are. They’re just too shy to do anything about it.”
The wolf's red optics ranged over the others, who had frozen in various poses ranging from mortification to sheepishness. Another rolling scramble, the air filled with the sharp clicks of bites closing on empty air, the shrieks of claws on armor and then they stilled again, interface hatches open, cables somehow connected, Sixshot’s flanks shuddering at the hard tempo of his own datastream slamming against Sinnertwin’s tight, syncopated rhythm.
Sinnertwin gave a purring sort of snarl, clambering up the wolf, claws digging in, sinking his teeth again behind Sixshot’s neck, his other head snapping and biting at Sixshot’s wing. Sixshot reared up, paws clawing desperately, but unable to dislodge Sinnertwin, not even by slamming him against the wall, until they suddenly both jolted, snarling growls abruptly cut off, as their datastreams synched and burst into overload.
They collapsed to the floor, quivering, cables hopelessly tangled.
Hun-Grr made a strangled sound. Frag. That was…stupidly hot. Trust Sinnertwin to have the kinkiest idea. And the diodes to actually try it. Why Sixshot didn’t just rip his head off...? Unless…he actually wanted it, too? Yeah, if Hun-Grr’s memory held, Sixshot didn’t have the smoothest moves. Kind of got right to it. Like he was trying to skip over the awkward part, get to the deed itself, exorcise some sort of demon.
Well, Hun-Grr hadn’t minded, even though his access port was still a little sore. What Sixshot lacked in technique he sure made up for in raw enthusiasm and power.
Speaking of: Sixshot recovered, pushing to his four feet, shaking a limp Sinnertwin off his back like so much mud. His optics scanned the others. “Who’s next.”
Four hands went up.
“Ummmm,” Cutthroat said, for once almost shy. “I have a gun kink?”
***
Yeah, Hun-Grr thought, a little blearily, rolling onto one elbow to watch the now-quiescent white and green frame, definitely a kink. A really kinky kink. But Sixshot had taken it, and then Blot, and then Rippersnapper, and then...yeah.
The red optics under the visor flicked on at Hun-Grr's movement, meeting his. The wild lust was gone, quenched, and Sixshot's optics were back to their usual flatness. "What."
Hun-Grr grinned, shaking his head. "You never stood a chance." Poor Sixshot. Well, not really.
Sixshot's optics floated over the other limp, hard-recharging frames before shrugging. Blot whimpered, wrapping another blotchy hand around Sixshot's wrist. "Neither did you."
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 07:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 07:16 am (UTC)And Sinnertwin and Cutthroat and Rippersnapper did fall to their knees in praise and adoration as Blot (somewhat confused) was washed by the saint!
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Date: 2012-01-05 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 09:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 06:09 pm (UTC)Thanks for the suggestion!
no subject
Date: 2010-12-27 10:26 pm (UTC)I love the bridge; it works just great to get through fanboys to plotters.
(Hmm. You took a suggestion. I suggest...Grindor/Constructicon crack, with a side order of seriousness if Grindor gets shot down in a mission far, far away. Especially if the Combaticons are somehow involved rescuing him, and they reeeeeally rub that in. ^_^ One can hope suggests breed bunnies, right?)
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Date: 2010-12-28 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-29 03:09 am (UTC)And I still don't know why Blot's obsessed with holding hands, but...there you go. :P