That was Easy.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG-13
IDW/G1
Sixshot/Onslaught, Vortex
warnings for innuendo (a lot) and wrongful use of a battery.
For tf_speedwriting  prompt 'monitor duty' now with slightly better editing! 

 

“Rather thought you were going to kill Brawl there for a bit,” Onslaught said, dryly.  Yes, in retrospect, Brawl challenging Sixshot to a chess match probably hadn’t been a smart idea. But it was Brawl. Smart ideas, or, really, any ideas, weren’t his forte.

“Not at our destination yet.”  Sixshot stared pointedly at the monitors. 

Onslaught laughed.  “I'll tell you what, I’ll throw in Swindle.  Package deal.”

Sixshot’s optics narrowed. “Sounds an awful lot like I’d be doing you a favor, Combaticon.”

“In the interests of cooperation, of course. “

“Don’t really do ‘cooperation’.”  Sixshot turned his attention back to the navcon.  The Devil King’s autopilot was doing well enough, but he didn’t like all this ‘free time’ with nothing to do than chat.  Left to his own, he’d be in the indoor range.  Here he could at least monitor where these blasted Combaticons were—and what they were up to—on his blasted ship.

“You’re missing out.” Onslaught seemed…amused.

“Really.”  Sixshot’s head tilted, insolently. “It looks…so rewarding.”

Onslaught shrugged. “It has its moments.” He settled himself in the long-disused copilot’s chair.  As if he belonged there. 

Sixshot stifled a glare. “Ah. I just…haven’t seen any yet.”

A soft chuckle. Onslaught rubbed the chin of his battlemask, then simply retracted it. “No, you haven’t.”

Onslaught had hidden his face with his palm, as if deliberately blocking Sixshot’s view.  As if Sixshot wanted to look.  As if.  “Don’t want to.”

Onslaught leaned back in the chair, studying the navscreen, folding his hands behind his head. “It can be good.  They’re more than adequate in the field.  And  there are…other compensations.” He gave a rare laugh. 

Sixshot’s refused to take the bait by looking over. “Ew.”

“Ew? From the mech who has interfaced with Blot?”

Sixshot stiffened in outrage.  “Daring statement.”

“I dare,” Onslaught said, dryly.  “It’s what I do.”

“Lead a bunch of deviants, that’s what you do.”  Still refusing to look. Speaking  of.... He keyed up a quick circuit of the inboard cameras.  Time to see what these deviants were up to.

“Why, Sixshot. You sound…jealous.” 

Sixshot did not even dignify that with a comment, merely giving a dismissive grunt. It was obvious that dealing with that crate of bad diodes Onslaught called a team had warped his sanity.  “The frag is Vortex doing.”

Onslaught rolled lazily up out of his chair, pausing to stretch showily. “Probably masturbating.”  He leaned over, one hand on the armrest of Sixshot’s chair. “Yep.  High sex drive, that one.”

Sixshot blinked, repulsed.

“Don’t worry,” Onslaught said, oozing a condescending kind of sympathy, “We’ll reimburse you for the voltaic cell.”

“New clips, too.”  That was not what batteries were supposed to be used for.

Onslaught gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Eh, you can autoclave those.”

“No.”  Sixshot did not want anything that Vortex had clipped…there and oh holy Primus there, in his ship where he might accidentally use them. 

“You know,” Onslaught said, turning away from the monitor just as the screen blanked white from the short Vortex caused with his, uh, ‘high sex drive’ and the Devil King’s plasma-cutter’s power cell. “You sound a little…stressed.” 

Sixshot pressed back against the seatback, suddenly aware—a little too aware—of Onslaught’s nearness, the EM field buzzing against his in a way that wasn’t really all that unpleasant.  “Not used to passengers.” Understatement. Passengers and their pestering, pilfering ways, and Onslaught's ability to get in...right...up...against his EM. 

Onslaught grinned, and Sixshot could see  his face, and the scar that twisted up the right side of his mouth. “I’ve noticed.” His voice was deeper than before, husky. 

Uh. “Monitor,” Sixshot threw the word up, like a shield, trying to point past Onslaught’s shoulder. 

“Very observant,” Onslaught said.  He slid a blue hand up Sixshot’s forearm, before ducking under it, throwing a leg over so that he was straddling Sixshot’s lap.  “That is, indeed, a monitor.”  He leaned forward, hands grabbing for the vertical stabilizers over Sixshot’s shoulders, grinning openly when the other mech shuddered.  “Now, let me show you something else.”  Onslaught’s hands raked down the green armor, and he leaned in to flick his glossa against the exposed cables of Sixshot’s throat. 

The large white hands that had been attempting—halfheartedly—to push him off suddenly stopped, quivered, and then yanked him in closer, arching out of the seat, banging Onslaught’s  winch against his thigh. 

[***]

Several cycles later….

//You owe me. You and Swindle both.// Onslaught’s voice cut over Vortex’s comm rich with triumph, just as the copter was eyeballing the voltaic cell for round two. 

//Frag.  You serious?  You got White and Green and Crazy All Over to put out?// Vortex was legitimately impressed.  Well, if he wasn’t he wouldn’t have bet against Onslaught in the first place.

//You should watch who you call ‘crazy’.// Onslaught retorted.  //And yes.//

//How’d you do it? Or is it some sort of trade secret?// Vortex wished Onslaught was the kind who would dish all the juicy details.  Vortex figured that he had a pretty good imagination, especially when it came to that sort of thing, but ‘Sixshot’ and ‘interfacing’ still seemed…wrong.

Laughter. //Apparently he likes the direct approach.  Though I think catching you with that little battery there helped set the right tone.//

//Always glad to help.// Vortex snickered.  He knew Onslaught wouldn’t spill the good-goods, but still, he had to ask. //He any good?// 

//Worried that he’s better than you?//

Well, frag yeah! And if he was missing out on something!   They still had a few standard-solars on this fraggin’ ship and if Sixshot was any good….  //Pffff. Please.//

Onslaught paused, and Vortex could just about hear the shrug. //Surprisingly short refractory period.// 

And even though Vortex could hear the taunt behind it, it still nettled him.  //Yeah, well that isn’t everything,// he muttered, irritably. 

//Ah, like right now.  Well, they certainly designed him with stamina.// 

Oooooh, that was just mean.  Vortex steamed.  //Yeah?  Well, when we leave this ship? I am SO taking one of these batteries,// he barked, just before the comm cut.

 

Comments

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Oh Vortex *is* weird. The crazazy is part of the fun! :D

[yukiko-angel.livejournal.com]

Onslaught’s voice cut over Vortex’s comm rich with triumph, just as the copter was eyeballing the voltaic cell for round two.

that line only has me falling on the ground clutching my side XD

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

They are so incredibly wrong, aren't they? XD

[ithilgwath.livejournal.com]

*SNORT*COUGH* He's taking... the battery. XD

[dementiaskiss.livejournal.com]

“I dare,” Onslaught said, dryly.  “It’s what I do.”

For whatever reason that line struck me as being massively HOT.

Thanks for this fic... I totally needed the giggles.