Fic - Quandary - Or How Blast Off learnt to like Rotaries
Title: Quandary - Or How Blast Off learnt to like Rotaries
Continuity: G1 (pre-war)
Warnings: gen, implied non graphic smut (plug’n’play)
Characters: Blast Off, OCs (shuttle and rotary)
Prompt: Naïve (& Learning a bit about other mechs at some point in his first vorn of existence, claimed by ultharkitty)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blast Off is forced to explore Iacon with his colleagues, and learns more during the trip than he thought.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for the 28 Blast Off meme.
And written for me, sort of, and the premise: “Why does Blast Off like rotaries.” ;)
Quandary - Or How Blast Off learnt to like Rotaries
Excessively bored, Blast Off went through the datapads lying on the desk of the briefing room, searching for something interesting to read. He sighed in defeat when he realised that he'd already read most of them, and there was nothing new.
There was only one pad he didn't know, one about the about the new prototype. But during the last briefing their superior Gamma Ray had talked about the content more than enough, and Blast Off truly didn't need to know more. He'd have to find something else to distract himself, but this wasn't Altihex, they were in Iacon, and he had no idea where to get something to read or where to spend his time.
Blast Off and a few of his colleagues had been chosen to attend an important presentation of a new shuttle model. A collaboration of the two cities Altihex and Iacon, a passenger build, and Blast Off couldn't care less. He'd give a lot to be back on HEX, and in hindsight, he was more than a little angry with himself that he hadn't applied for a certain boring mission which would have saved him from coming down to the planet.
It wasn't even Altihex, Blast Off mused, it had to be Iacon. He was quite annoyed by that, but then, any city except Altihex would have displeased him. He just wasn't fond of cities built by and for grounders. Okay, he'd only been to Polyhex before, but it was enough of a bad example...
"Blast Off, is it true?" the voice of their superior stopped his train of thought, and he raised his head, confused. The bigger, older shuttleformer was built with an older form of mass shifting, and was therefore taller than Blast Off - and his two colleagues with the same frame type as Blast Off who stood next to the mech.
//Say yes!// One of his colleagues commed him over a private frequency, causing Blast Off to wince.
//What?// he asked, but already nodded.
Their superior raised an optical ridge. "Really?"
//Yes!// his green coloured colleague said again, overly enthusiastically, and it was by reflex that Blast Off - even though quite uncertain - muttered. "Yeah..."
The taller mech sighed. "Okay, fine. Honestly, I'd never thought you'd be up for something like this, Blast Off, but if all of you are okay with that..." He shrugged, patted the green shuttle on the shoulder, and left with a waving hand. "Have fun!"
Blast Off's optics flickered in bewilderment as he looked from the green to the orange mech. He had no idea what his superior had been talking about, but he knew his roommates. Blast Off had been built with them, and of all the mechs on HEX, they were the closest to him - which didn't mean that much in Blast Off's opinion, because he was hardly close to anyone.
Right now, the two mechs were very happy and stupidly grinning at him, and Blast Off got a sinking feeling.
"Okay, what did I just agree to?"
---
“No!” Blast Off’s resolute voice made a grounder in the hallway wince as he passed. The shuttle walked quickly, his two colleagues behind him trying to keep up.
“Oh, c’mon,” the orange mech whined, and the green one agreed.
“You’re such a spoilsport.”
“I don’t care what you think. I won’t, and that’s it!” Blast Off pushed the button of the elevator, and hoped it’d arrive soon.
“But you told Gamma Ray you’d come with us,” the orange mech - Light Screen - muttered, sounding less secure than his partner in crime.
“Exactly. What do you think you’re going to do now? If you stay here, and we leave alone, we’ll all three get Detention.” The green shuttle crossed his arm, and tipped his head to a side.
Blast Off saw it from his peripheral vision, and behind his parted visor, his optics narrowed. He didn’t like it when the other did that, and he disliked it even more that he knew what it meant.
The green shuttle continued. “I mean, you can stay and we’ll leave - and we’ll definitely go out today, no matter what you say - but you’re in this just like us, and Gamma Ray will find out.”
“Right!” Light Screen was more confident again. “And as far as I know you have this trip coming up-”
“-to XDC58-Eridani-“
“-and if you get Detention, you won’t fly, and Star Reign gets this mission.”
“Yeah, that slagger’s been after that tour for decacycles. Can’t stand that gravity sucker.” The green mech came closer, and stepped into Blast Off's field of vision. “I know you can’t stand him either.”
“Stop talking, both of you,” Blast Off growled. The elevator still hadn't arrived, and it gave Blast Off time to think and come to the conclusion that his co-shuttles were right.
They’d asked their superior to explore Iacon, or its downtown to be precise. An area not truly appropriate for shuttleformers, because higher caste mechs weren’t always welcome. Moreover, all three shuttles weren’t that experienced when it came to Cybertron’s society, considering that they had been built and spent most of their relatively young life on a space station.
Gamma Ray had only agreed to them going if Blast Off would go with them as well and all three stayed together. If only Blast Off hadn't been so deep in thought he'd agreed without knowing what it was he was agreeing to.
“You are cheating idiots,” Blast Off muttered, and his engine revved in displeasure. He knew they were right about the Detention and the mission he’d lose. “I thought it was something important I was saying ‘yes’ to.” It wasn’t uncommon for Blast Off not to listen to people if he became irritated by the chatter. And as much as he disliked admitting it, Light Screen and Lunar Pulse had saved him a few times when he’d missed important parts of conversations.
Blast Off shook his head in annoyance. Why couldn’t their superiors just give him all the requisite information on datapads instead of having boring, unnecessary briefings?
Blast Off didn’t like listening to people. And he didn’t like people.
“So?” Lunar Pulse asked, amused, and seemingly knowing Blast Off’s decision.
Sometimes it was irritating and scary how well the other knew him, Blast Off mused. “You owe me, big time!”
“Yes!” the green mech laughed, and the orange one made a squealing noise of what apparently was joy.
Vector Sigma, Blast Off thought, and hoped his colleagues would get bored quickly so that they could return to the base fast.
Blast Off was just about to say something when the elevator opened with a ping.
“Let’s go!” Lunar Pulse took Blast Off’s arm, and pulled him in. Light Screen followed and blocked the way out as he pressed the button to go down - to the base’s exit.
“What? Now?” Blast Off was confused, his optics flicked from one mech to the other, and then at the door closing. He’d hoped he’d get a datapad from their quarters before they left, then he’d have something to hide in…
“Of course!” The green mech let go of Blast Off and clapped his hands excitedly. “We only have today, we mustn’t waste time!”
Blast Off’s horror had to be visible on his face plates, because his other colleague nudged his side with an elbow. “It’ll be awesome!” He probably wanted to smile reassuringly, but it resulted only in a weird grin, and Blast Off’s sinking feeling came back.
---
Iacon was worse than expected. There were people everywhere, and they all were grounders.
Blast Off had only seen one flyer in the mass of people, but then, he wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying not to be touched in the jostle, but his attempts were futile. It was as though Iacon's citizens had never seen shuttleformers before, and were trying to get particularly close. It was aggravating, disconcerting, and Blast Off definitely didn’t like it.
By comparison, his co-shuttles didn’t seem to mind at all. They were chattering, pointing at buildings and at stores that offered wheels or hover turbines for grounders, and giggling about the open space in the sky.
In time, they made their way to some shop. The two shuttles talked to a group of wheeled mechs who were pretty exciting about seeing actual shuttles. Blast Off stood close by, but didn’t listen, and inspected a spring. He knew these kind of mechanisms existed, he’d seen data about it, and read a few articles as well. It was just different to see and touch it, and to imagine where this would go in root-mode, or why this should be useful.
Blast Off frowned. Planet bound mechs worked so differently from his own kind. Just when he put it back on the shelf, one of the mechs addressed him.
“So, and you’re Blast Off?” he said, smiling. He was much smaller than Blast Off, and teetered on his feet, both nervous and cheerful.
Not that Blast Off realised any of that. This mech was a stranger, and it was hard enough for the shuttle to read the mechs he usually worked with.
“You’re wings look stupid,” he just said bluntly, without meaning to be impolite. It was just his opinion, and he couldn’t know that those wings weren't built for flying.
“Oh… uhm…” the mech stammered, and stopped moving on his feet. He now kneaded his hands, and shrugged. “Those are doorwings. I’m from Praxus.”
It was said with another smile, as though Blast Off should know what it meant. He didn’t, and wasn’t interested; he shrugged too, then stared back at the items on the shelf. He hoped they’d be on the way back to base, soon. They’d been in the city for over four joors, and it was late already; Blast Off really want to go to their room and have some silence - at least for a few breems, because much more wouldn’t be possible while having to share a room with his colleagues.
“Uh…” the mech began anew, but was interrupted by the green shuttle.
“Hey, Blast Off, you’re coming? They want to show us this club a few streets away.” The other’s tone was much too happy for Blast Off’s taste, and this combined with the words shattered all hopes to have some peace any time soon.
“What? I think we really should go back,” Blast Off protested, but the answer was only a pat on the shoulder that made him flinch, and a snickering, “we’ll be back on HEX soon. And see it like this: We’re going to owe you some big favours, right?” The green shuttle then nudged the Praxian that appeared a bit lost. “He’s a bit… shy.”
“Oh?” the grounder replied, and went to the door with the group and Blast Off’s colleagues.
He himself stood there for another moment, thinking about just leaving them and going back alone. His hands clenched into fists, and his ailerons on his lower legs clicked a few times out of habit. Eventually, Blast Off shook his head, his engine revved once, then he followed the group.
He really didn’t need Detention on HEX; his next mission was important to him.
---
This club was the worst.
If Blast Off had thought the crowded streets of Iacon were annoying, he had to correct himself now. Those streets had still been bearable, if only just, but this club was everything Blast Off disliked.
The mechs and femmes stood so close to each other, there was hardly room to move, and from the speakers in the ceiling came loud noise that some people might have called music. And added to this cacophony, there were screens on the walls, showing random patterns in too many colours.
It was horrible.
But at least the others would pay for his drinks, and so Blast Off had bravely left his booth and gone to the counter.
He knew this had been a mistake after his first few steps. People nudged him accidentally, and the winglets on his upper arms scraped at people’s helms or shoulders. It was bothersome, and Blast Off definitely needed something to drink now - something strong.
They hardly ever had high grade on HEX, and he’d only drunk it a few times. It didn’t taste that good, but he thought that it certainly couldn’t make his mood any worse. He might even be lucky and get a bit tipsy. Blast Off had discovered that his people-tolerance-level wasn’t as low if he was tipsy, and he really could need that now.
After some time waiting at the counter, he finally got his energon cube, and turned, only to get a sharp blade pushed into his face and cut his lip plates.
“You stupid aft head! Look where you’re going!” a voice yelled over the music.
It took Blast Off a moment until the pain subsided, and he realised that he wasn’t the one who’d been addressed. But this didn’t stop him from being even more irritated and walking to the booth as fast as he could through the crowd.
When he sat down again, he licked his lips, and tasted energon. Oh, wasn’t that just great?
The first sip of high grade burned at the wound, then it tickled.
With a sigh of strong vents, Blast Off shook his head. After this, his colleagues owed him big time. He was already thinking about what favour he’d call in from them.
A few kliks passed, in which the shuttle tried to blend out the sound of the surroundings and focused on the taste of the strong drink and his sullen musings.
“Hey, sorry about before.” The same voice that had yelled at the counter was now not as loud, but it still dragged Blast Off out of his thoughts.
The shuttle glanced up. Opposite him sat a mech, a heliformer. He was either orange, or red, or maybe beige, but it was hard to say in the changing light of the screens.
“Someone pushed me, and I hit you. It wasn’t on purpose. Here-“ He put two cubes on the table, one in front of himself, and pushed the other over to Blast Off. It was the same drink Blast Off had almost emptied by now. The mech smiled. “I’m really sorry about your lip. You know, those things, “ - The rotor blade that stuck out from behind the back and was visible shuffled. - “are a bit unwieldy now and then. Especially in a crowd like this. Seriously, today’s crazy busy here.”
“It’s loud,” was all Blast Off knew to say. He tipped his head to a side, a questioning expression on his face.
“Yeah, that too.” The heliformer still appeared friendly, genuinely. He drank from his own energon, and seemed to observe something over the crowed at the other end of the room, then his optics were again focused on Blast Off. “I’m Windcut. You don’t look very happy, you know. I mean, your friends look as though they’re enjoying it here, but you’re kinda… grumpy? Everything okay?”
“What do you mean?” Blast Off couldn’t help but be suspicious. They were in a lower class establishment after all…
“Ah, I’m not… I mean-“ The heliformer laughed, and shook his head briefly. “It’s just that we don’t have shuttles here often. And, honestly? You three are hard to overlook when you’re taller than everyone else in here.” He snickered softly at that, then smiled at Blast Off.
The shuttle thought it was weird. Usually his grumpy expression was enough that people left him alone; this mech, however, wasn’t impressed at all. “I see,” Blast Off answered, and shrugged. “They’re not my friends, though. We’re colleagues.”
“Oh?” The mech seemed surprised. “Well, if you’re just colleagues, then why don’t you just leave if you don’t like it here?”
“Can’t. It’ll get us all into trouble.”
The heliformer nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah… I think I know what you mean. I was in the military once. I was, uh…. dishonourably discharged, though, because I wasn’t good with all those orders and chain of commands and such. I’m an architect now. Always have liked art and such things more than weapons anyway. I built the theatre just down the Quadrant’s main street. It’s pretty cool. Well, I mean, I have to like it, since I built it, but I’ve been told it’s pretty awesome a few times.”
The mech stopped rambling, and glanced expectantly at Blast Off, his expression open and friendly.
The shuttle didn’t know what to say. He just nodded, and muttered again, “I see…”
Apparently, this was funny, because the heliformer laughed, partly covering it with the back of his hand. He shook his head once, then let his hand sink down. “You don’t care at all, do you?” It sounded amused.
“No, I don’t.”
At that, the mech giggled again; it made Blast Off frown deeply. He tried to ignore the heliformer, and drank the last bit of his own cube.
“I like when people are honest. So, what about you? What’s your name? You’re from Altihex?”
“I’m Blast Off; I’m from HEX,” Blast Off replied shortly, and eyed the other cube the heliformer had brought.
“Wow, neat! That’s this space station, right? I see it sometimes when it flies over Iacon at night. It’s kinda like a blinking, moving star. What's it like, living on a space station?”
This curiosity was odd, and Blast Off’s optics flickered in confusion. Not just about the outgoing way of the other, which still was friendly and not intrusive as expected, but also at the question itself. Blast Off didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as though he could compare it to living on the planet. He’d only been on Cybertron for a decacycle at the most.
“I don’t know? It’s… cramped? There’s not much room to go around. I’m not there often, though.”
“You’re on Cybertron often, then?”
Blast Off’s optics flickered anew. “No. I’m in space. A lot, and for long periods of time.” He took the cube, and sipped. It was the same drink he had before, and he wondered how the heliformer had known.
“Okay, that’s kinda awesome. I mean, flying around so much.” The mech seemed really impressed, and his rotor blade twitched. He put his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands, intensely staring at Blast Off.
The shuttle shifted a little.
“You’re some kind of explorer?” The rotor blade still moved, even if only slightly. It was still distracting, as was the mech’s whole cheerful excitement about this. Blast Off didn’t know why some planet-bound mech would be interested in space. It wasn’t his expertise at all.
“I am. Sort of…” Blast Off was an explorer, researcher and scientist. He didn’t feel like mentioning all of this, though.
“Wow, that’s so great!” the heliformer said with a beaming smile. “Tell me about it. Space must be awesome. We only know bits about it, you know. See it on TV shows and stuff, but that’s all fiction, so I’d love to hear how it really is!”
Blast Off opened his mouth, then closed it again. Sipping once, he thought about how to respond, but finally decided to say what was in his mind.
“I don't think I can do that.”
“Oh, why? Is it all some classified stuff?” The ‘copter beamed, but Blast Off shook his head.
“No, I just don’t think you’d understand even half of it, so it’d be wasted words.”
Despite this frank statement which wasn’t meant as an insult, but probably many people would have thought of it as one, the heliformer’s smile didn’t vanish. Instead, he just laughed again, and his expression morphed into an impish smirk, although Blast Off couldn’t interpret it as such.
“You’re very direct. I think I like you.”
The shuttle raised an optical ridge. “Aha…” he muttered, not knowing how else to reply.
Once more, the heliformer laughed softly. “You can still try to tell me? I mean, you can’t know if I don’t understand, right?”
“I guess I could…” Blast Off shrugged, and earned himself another snicker.
Eventually, Windcut was the one to talk about space, the way he knew it from TV, and Blast Off and huffed, sometimes amused, sometimes annoyed.
Over a joor passed, and now seven empty cubes were on the table. Not all were from Blast Off, but the shuttle had drunk four drinks, and the high grade made itself present.
The loud music made him dizzy, and the changing light caused a stinging ache in his optics. The air appeared too thick, full of too many different stenches that mingled and caused Blast Off’s scanners to glitch. It was like breathing in HEX's main engine room, down in the area where partly delicate and partly giant mechanisms controlled the space station’s life support systems and flight path. Only there the noises weren’t as maddening as the music in the club.
Blast Off shook his head again; he’d done so a few times while drinking the last cube, trying to shake off the dizziness.
“I think I need to get some fresh air,” he said, and interrupted the other’s rambling.
“I was just about to ask if you'd come, too. The air’s making me dizzy…” the heliformer replied, now without the cheerful expression on his face, which was rather pinched. He swayed when he stood up, and Blast Off was also quite unsteady on his feet.
The high grade had to have been be either pretty strong, or the effect got worse when Blast Off stood up. It didn’t really matter now, because he had to clutch at the table’s edge to keep standing.
It took him about a klik before he dared to let go and started to move. Struggling to reach the door, Blast Off’s dizziness increased.
Only because of a light touch at his back, he noticed the heliformer following him, and heard a faint muttering. “I’m right behind you…”
---
Blast Off woke up, and didn’t feel very well.
He was dizzy, even though his equilibrium chip was working, and there was gravity that held him in place. It wasn’t unusual that the gravity mechanisms on HEX didn’t work or were being maintained and one woke up floating.
Blast Off wasn’t floating, though, and he wasn’t on HEX.
He lay on a berth, on his front, and he felt sick. His tanks rumbled once, and he winced when his comm-line pinged.
He refused to online his optics, and to accept the call. Maybe if he ignored it long enough, the other person would give up.
It pinged again.
Blast Off groaned, shuffled on the berth, then rolled over - and fell off.
With a loud clang, his back hit the ground, and it was by reflex that his optical sensors activated. The light stung in the first moment, causing a sharp pain in his processor, and Blast Off’s vocaliser produced a low whine.
He didn’t need to look around much to know that he wasn’t in the guest quarters of the Iacon science facility. The rest of the still unprocessed high grade made his processor sluggish, but after a few astroseconds, Blast Off remembered where he was instead.
His optics widened, but he had no time to think further about it.
His communication equipment pinged once more, and this time, he opened the line, knowing who was contacting him.
//Sigma, Blast Off, we were worried about you! Where are you?// Lunar Pulse said, troubled.
//I’m on the floor…// Blast Off answered, deadpan, and with his voice hoarse.
//What? No - you’re not. We checked. Blast Off, you okay? You sound… kinda worn out, or something…//
//I’m fine,// Blast Off replied, tiredly, and dimmed his optics. Someone on the berth moved, he heard the surface shifting under the weight, but he kept his vocaliser shut for now. //I’m just, uh…// Well, how did he explain this?
//You were gone yesterday, and we thought you were already back at base, but you weren’t. The presentation is today. You’ll be back in time, won’t you?//
Blast Off didn’t answer right away. Again the sound of shuffling on the berth, then half a leg appeared in his visual field - a red leg, with small rotor blades on the knee. More movement, then an elbow emerged, the side of a torso, a hip and waist and one of three black rotors, and eventually, a face glanced down at him.
“Hey…” the ‘copter said with a drowsy voice and a dozy smile. “You’re lying on the floor…”
“Yeah, looks like I am,” Blast Off muttered, the sarcastic undertone hard to hear within the static of his voice.
Now, with the heliformer in view, the memories came back more vividly, and Blast Off’s ailerons clacked once against his legs. He had the urge to touch his lip plates, but stopped himself in time from doing so. His optics still flicked to the other’s mouth, however, and his jaw clenched, and relaxed again as he remembered.
They were outside, both quite drunk. Blast Off leant against the wall, a bit away from the club’s entrance. The heliformer was next to him, rambling once more, but the voice mingled with the chatter of other people, and it didn’t matter.
Despite his optics being online, Blast Off didn’t really notice the ‘copter moving until he was in front of him. Small hands were placed on his shoulders when the heliformer pulled himself up. He muttered something, still smiling, but Blast Off was too surprised and confused to truly listen.
Blast Off’s confusion only increased when the other’s mouth was on his own, and moved. Optics flickered, and his energy field wavered. Blast Off wanted to say something, but couldn’t, because the foreign lip plates were still there, and with his own opened just a bit, he tasted the other’s drink, and something else.
It was odd, unfamiliar and intoxicating, and Blast Off had no idea what to do. At first, he wanted to push the heliformer away, but Blast Off was also quite inebriated, and somehow mimicking the other’s movements seemed to be a good idea.
It was clumsy, and it was as though he still had to learn and get used to it. But it wasn’t bad.
No, it wasn’t bad at all.
Blast Off’s hands were at the heliformer’s hips, originally placed there to push him off, but now to keep him in place - and to have something for support other than the wall behind him.
After a moment, the ‘copter withdrew, and lips tugged to a small grin. “You haven’t kissed before, have you?”
His optics flickered once more, and he shook his head. “We don’t do that on HEX.”
The space station was like its own small society, isolated from the rest of Cybertron. No one built there knew about the habits Cybertronians adopted from other species, just like they’d done with ‘kissing’.
“What a pity.” The grin was still there, but it was odd, more a smirk as the ‘copter tilted his head. “You don’t like it?”
“No.”
“Hm? ‘No’ as in ‘no, I don’t like it’, or ‘no, I do not not like it’?”
Blast Off didn’t hear the amused edge in the voice, he was too busy processing the question. After a few astroseconds, he just shook his head. His engine revved, and he pulled the other closer, answering the question by kissing him.
The heliformer still smirked. Blast Off felt it on his own lip plates, but it dissolved when his energy field flared with something different than confusion and caused the ‘copter to moan…
//Blast Off?// his colleagues voice dragged Blast Off back to the present, and he tensed a little.
//I’ll be there. I hope…//
//What do you mean, you hope. Slaggit, Blast Off, at first you don’t wanna go at all, and now you’re lost somewhere, and-//
//Be quiet,// Blast Off interrupted the other shuttle, not admitting to himself that he was right. That, and of all things that Blast Off could have done, he’d interfaced with a planet bound mech. He really had to keep quiet about this, or his colleagues would never live him that one down…
Blast Off rebooted his optics, and addressed the heliformer who still gazed down at him absentmindedly. “I need to go back to the research facility.”
“Oh…” If Blast Off had paid attention, he would have heard the slight disappointment. “Uh, it’s not far from here. You can either go down the street, and follow the main street, or you take a shortcut to the fly-way through the city, then you’d be there in a bit more than a breem.”
The ‘copter pinged for a data transfer, and Blast Off accepted. The shortcut was complicated, and not as though many people knew about it. He raised an optical ridge. “It’s really a short cut?”
The heliformer nodded, voice filled with a weird amusement. “It is, believe me. I’m an architect, remember? I know my city.”
“Okay.” Blast Off muttered dubiously, but didn’t get up. His optics roved over what he saw from the ‘copter. He remembered the tail rotor spinning last night, and main rotors shuddering, the other arching his back off the berth while Blast Off had pinned the wrists above his head. Everything had moved, and shifted, and spun, but it’d been so easy to hold the heliformer down...
That thought sent a shiver down Blast Off’s back struts, and he had to remind himself that he had to leave.
“I should go,” Blast Off said, but still didn’t move. The other on the edge of the berth nodded, but also just kept lying there, and it caused Blast Off to frown.
“You’re kinda cute.”
At that, the frown deepened, and his voice was sceptical. “I am?” He regretted these words instantly. It was a stupid answer, or question in return, and Blast Off decided that he didn’t particularly like being called cute.
“Well, thanks - I guess?” he corrected himself, and came to the conclusion that this hadn’t been much better. He should just keep quiet now.
And he did. For almost another klik, he didn’t say anything, and the heliformer was silent as well. Only his colleague asked over the commlink, //Uh, Blast Off?//
//I’ll be on my way.//
//Oh, thank Sigma! Just take care.//
Yes, he needed to go. The shuttle nodded briefly to himself, and this time he really wanted to stand up, but his optics fell on the dented red waist of the ‘copter, and he froze when another memory file activated.
He’d done that unintentionally the night before, during overload…
The heliformer glanced down his side where the shuttle’s optics were fixed on, and laughed. Blast Off tensed once more.
“That’s okay,” the other grinned, “I like strong mechs.”
Now, Blast Off really didn’t know what to say what wouldn’t sound inappropriate at all, and so he just stared.
“I’ll leave now…”
“When do you have to be back at the facility?” The ‘copter’s long, slim fingers appeared over the edge of the berth, and Blast Off wondered if his hands transformed into his alt-mode nose. They’d been intriguing, had teased him, the transformation seams and the circuitry under his plating where bigger fingers could never reach.
“I have to attend a presentation in about three joors.”
“Oh? You know, three joors is a lot of time if the way takes only a breem…” The other smirked down at him, and the implication was clear even for Blast Off.
His ailerons clicked again, and another shudder surged down his frame. Raising an arm and placing it at the berth, Blast Off eventually sat up. His face was much too close to the ‘copter’s, but somehow, it was okay.
His optics flicked to the other’s lip plates, and he pondered, trying to make a decision that had already been made.
//I’ll be back at base in time. I’ll just be there a bit later,// Blast Off commed his colleague, who answered rather confused.
//What? Hey, Blast Off, you’re-//
Blast Off cut the line.
In his peripheral vision he saw rotor blades shudder, and his own energy field flared with anticipation.
Also posted here
Continuity: G1 (pre-war)
Warnings: gen, implied non graphic smut (plug’n’play)
Characters: Blast Off, OCs (shuttle and rotary)
Prompt: Naïve (& Learning a bit about other mechs at some point in his first vorn of existence, claimed by ultharkitty)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blast Off is forced to explore Iacon with his colleagues, and learns more during the trip than he thought.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for the 28 Blast Off meme.
And written for me, sort of, and the premise: “Why does Blast Off like rotaries.” ;)
Quandary - Or How Blast Off learnt to like Rotaries
Excessively bored, Blast Off went through the datapads lying on the desk of the briefing room, searching for something interesting to read. He sighed in defeat when he realised that he'd already read most of them, and there was nothing new.
There was only one pad he didn't know, one about the about the new prototype. But during the last briefing their superior Gamma Ray had talked about the content more than enough, and Blast Off truly didn't need to know more. He'd have to find something else to distract himself, but this wasn't Altihex, they were in Iacon, and he had no idea where to get something to read or where to spend his time.
Blast Off and a few of his colleagues had been chosen to attend an important presentation of a new shuttle model. A collaboration of the two cities Altihex and Iacon, a passenger build, and Blast Off couldn't care less. He'd give a lot to be back on HEX, and in hindsight, he was more than a little angry with himself that he hadn't applied for a certain boring mission which would have saved him from coming down to the planet.
It wasn't even Altihex, Blast Off mused, it had to be Iacon. He was quite annoyed by that, but then, any city except Altihex would have displeased him. He just wasn't fond of cities built by and for grounders. Okay, he'd only been to Polyhex before, but it was enough of a bad example...
"Blast Off, is it true?" the voice of their superior stopped his train of thought, and he raised his head, confused. The bigger, older shuttleformer was built with an older form of mass shifting, and was therefore taller than Blast Off - and his two colleagues with the same frame type as Blast Off who stood next to the mech.
//Say yes!// One of his colleagues commed him over a private frequency, causing Blast Off to wince.
//What?// he asked, but already nodded.
Their superior raised an optical ridge. "Really?"
//Yes!// his green coloured colleague said again, overly enthusiastically, and it was by reflex that Blast Off - even though quite uncertain - muttered. "Yeah..."
The taller mech sighed. "Okay, fine. Honestly, I'd never thought you'd be up for something like this, Blast Off, but if all of you are okay with that..." He shrugged, patted the green shuttle on the shoulder, and left with a waving hand. "Have fun!"
Blast Off's optics flickered in bewilderment as he looked from the green to the orange mech. He had no idea what his superior had been talking about, but he knew his roommates. Blast Off had been built with them, and of all the mechs on HEX, they were the closest to him - which didn't mean that much in Blast Off's opinion, because he was hardly close to anyone.
Right now, the two mechs were very happy and stupidly grinning at him, and Blast Off got a sinking feeling.
"Okay, what did I just agree to?"
---
“No!” Blast Off’s resolute voice made a grounder in the hallway wince as he passed. The shuttle walked quickly, his two colleagues behind him trying to keep up.
“Oh, c’mon,” the orange mech whined, and the green one agreed.
“You’re such a spoilsport.”
“I don’t care what you think. I won’t, and that’s it!” Blast Off pushed the button of the elevator, and hoped it’d arrive soon.
“But you told Gamma Ray you’d come with us,” the orange mech - Light Screen - muttered, sounding less secure than his partner in crime.
“Exactly. What do you think you’re going to do now? If you stay here, and we leave alone, we’ll all three get Detention.” The green shuttle crossed his arm, and tipped his head to a side.
Blast Off saw it from his peripheral vision, and behind his parted visor, his optics narrowed. He didn’t like it when the other did that, and he disliked it even more that he knew what it meant.
The green shuttle continued. “I mean, you can stay and we’ll leave - and we’ll definitely go out today, no matter what you say - but you’re in this just like us, and Gamma Ray will find out.”
“Right!” Light Screen was more confident again. “And as far as I know you have this trip coming up-”
“-to XDC58-Eridani-“
“-and if you get Detention, you won’t fly, and Star Reign gets this mission.”
“Yeah, that slagger’s been after that tour for decacycles. Can’t stand that gravity sucker.” The green mech came closer, and stepped into Blast Off's field of vision. “I know you can’t stand him either.”
“Stop talking, both of you,” Blast Off growled. The elevator still hadn't arrived, and it gave Blast Off time to think and come to the conclusion that his co-shuttles were right.
They’d asked their superior to explore Iacon, or its downtown to be precise. An area not truly appropriate for shuttleformers, because higher caste mechs weren’t always welcome. Moreover, all three shuttles weren’t that experienced when it came to Cybertron’s society, considering that they had been built and spent most of their relatively young life on a space station.
Gamma Ray had only agreed to them going if Blast Off would go with them as well and all three stayed together. If only Blast Off hadn't been so deep in thought he'd agreed without knowing what it was he was agreeing to.
“You are cheating idiots,” Blast Off muttered, and his engine revved in displeasure. He knew they were right about the Detention and the mission he’d lose. “I thought it was something important I was saying ‘yes’ to.” It wasn’t uncommon for Blast Off not to listen to people if he became irritated by the chatter. And as much as he disliked admitting it, Light Screen and Lunar Pulse had saved him a few times when he’d missed important parts of conversations.
Blast Off shook his head in annoyance. Why couldn’t their superiors just give him all the requisite information on datapads instead of having boring, unnecessary briefings?
Blast Off didn’t like listening to people. And he didn’t like people.
“So?” Lunar Pulse asked, amused, and seemingly knowing Blast Off’s decision.
Sometimes it was irritating and scary how well the other knew him, Blast Off mused. “You owe me, big time!”
“Yes!” the green mech laughed, and the orange one made a squealing noise of what apparently was joy.
Vector Sigma, Blast Off thought, and hoped his colleagues would get bored quickly so that they could return to the base fast.
Blast Off was just about to say something when the elevator opened with a ping.
“Let’s go!” Lunar Pulse took Blast Off’s arm, and pulled him in. Light Screen followed and blocked the way out as he pressed the button to go down - to the base’s exit.
“What? Now?” Blast Off was confused, his optics flicked from one mech to the other, and then at the door closing. He’d hoped he’d get a datapad from their quarters before they left, then he’d have something to hide in…
“Of course!” The green mech let go of Blast Off and clapped his hands excitedly. “We only have today, we mustn’t waste time!”
Blast Off’s horror had to be visible on his face plates, because his other colleague nudged his side with an elbow. “It’ll be awesome!” He probably wanted to smile reassuringly, but it resulted only in a weird grin, and Blast Off’s sinking feeling came back.
---
Iacon was worse than expected. There were people everywhere, and they all were grounders.
Blast Off had only seen one flyer in the mass of people, but then, he wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying not to be touched in the jostle, but his attempts were futile. It was as though Iacon's citizens had never seen shuttleformers before, and were trying to get particularly close. It was aggravating, disconcerting, and Blast Off definitely didn’t like it.
By comparison, his co-shuttles didn’t seem to mind at all. They were chattering, pointing at buildings and at stores that offered wheels or hover turbines for grounders, and giggling about the open space in the sky.
In time, they made their way to some shop. The two shuttles talked to a group of wheeled mechs who were pretty exciting about seeing actual shuttles. Blast Off stood close by, but didn’t listen, and inspected a spring. He knew these kind of mechanisms existed, he’d seen data about it, and read a few articles as well. It was just different to see and touch it, and to imagine where this would go in root-mode, or why this should be useful.
Blast Off frowned. Planet bound mechs worked so differently from his own kind. Just when he put it back on the shelf, one of the mechs addressed him.
“So, and you’re Blast Off?” he said, smiling. He was much smaller than Blast Off, and teetered on his feet, both nervous and cheerful.
Not that Blast Off realised any of that. This mech was a stranger, and it was hard enough for the shuttle to read the mechs he usually worked with.
“You’re wings look stupid,” he just said bluntly, without meaning to be impolite. It was just his opinion, and he couldn’t know that those wings weren't built for flying.
“Oh… uhm…” the mech stammered, and stopped moving on his feet. He now kneaded his hands, and shrugged. “Those are doorwings. I’m from Praxus.”
It was said with another smile, as though Blast Off should know what it meant. He didn’t, and wasn’t interested; he shrugged too, then stared back at the items on the shelf. He hoped they’d be on the way back to base, soon. They’d been in the city for over four joors, and it was late already; Blast Off really want to go to their room and have some silence - at least for a few breems, because much more wouldn’t be possible while having to share a room with his colleagues.
“Uh…” the mech began anew, but was interrupted by the green shuttle.
“Hey, Blast Off, you’re coming? They want to show us this club a few streets away.” The other’s tone was much too happy for Blast Off’s taste, and this combined with the words shattered all hopes to have some peace any time soon.
“What? I think we really should go back,” Blast Off protested, but the answer was only a pat on the shoulder that made him flinch, and a snickering, “we’ll be back on HEX soon. And see it like this: We’re going to owe you some big favours, right?” The green shuttle then nudged the Praxian that appeared a bit lost. “He’s a bit… shy.”
“Oh?” the grounder replied, and went to the door with the group and Blast Off’s colleagues.
He himself stood there for another moment, thinking about just leaving them and going back alone. His hands clenched into fists, and his ailerons on his lower legs clicked a few times out of habit. Eventually, Blast Off shook his head, his engine revved once, then he followed the group.
He really didn’t need Detention on HEX; his next mission was important to him.
---
This club was the worst.
If Blast Off had thought the crowded streets of Iacon were annoying, he had to correct himself now. Those streets had still been bearable, if only just, but this club was everything Blast Off disliked.
The mechs and femmes stood so close to each other, there was hardly room to move, and from the speakers in the ceiling came loud noise that some people might have called music. And added to this cacophony, there were screens on the walls, showing random patterns in too many colours.
It was horrible.
But at least the others would pay for his drinks, and so Blast Off had bravely left his booth and gone to the counter.
He knew this had been a mistake after his first few steps. People nudged him accidentally, and the winglets on his upper arms scraped at people’s helms or shoulders. It was bothersome, and Blast Off definitely needed something to drink now - something strong.
They hardly ever had high grade on HEX, and he’d only drunk it a few times. It didn’t taste that good, but he thought that it certainly couldn’t make his mood any worse. He might even be lucky and get a bit tipsy. Blast Off had discovered that his people-tolerance-level wasn’t as low if he was tipsy, and he really could need that now.
After some time waiting at the counter, he finally got his energon cube, and turned, only to get a sharp blade pushed into his face and cut his lip plates.
“You stupid aft head! Look where you’re going!” a voice yelled over the music.
It took Blast Off a moment until the pain subsided, and he realised that he wasn’t the one who’d been addressed. But this didn’t stop him from being even more irritated and walking to the booth as fast as he could through the crowd.
When he sat down again, he licked his lips, and tasted energon. Oh, wasn’t that just great?
The first sip of high grade burned at the wound, then it tickled.
With a sigh of strong vents, Blast Off shook his head. After this, his colleagues owed him big time. He was already thinking about what favour he’d call in from them.
A few kliks passed, in which the shuttle tried to blend out the sound of the surroundings and focused on the taste of the strong drink and his sullen musings.
“Hey, sorry about before.” The same voice that had yelled at the counter was now not as loud, but it still dragged Blast Off out of his thoughts.
The shuttle glanced up. Opposite him sat a mech, a heliformer. He was either orange, or red, or maybe beige, but it was hard to say in the changing light of the screens.
“Someone pushed me, and I hit you. It wasn’t on purpose. Here-“ He put two cubes on the table, one in front of himself, and pushed the other over to Blast Off. It was the same drink Blast Off had almost emptied by now. The mech smiled. “I’m really sorry about your lip. You know, those things, “ - The rotor blade that stuck out from behind the back and was visible shuffled. - “are a bit unwieldy now and then. Especially in a crowd like this. Seriously, today’s crazy busy here.”
“It’s loud,” was all Blast Off knew to say. He tipped his head to a side, a questioning expression on his face.
“Yeah, that too.” The heliformer still appeared friendly, genuinely. He drank from his own energon, and seemed to observe something over the crowed at the other end of the room, then his optics were again focused on Blast Off. “I’m Windcut. You don’t look very happy, you know. I mean, your friends look as though they’re enjoying it here, but you’re kinda… grumpy? Everything okay?”
“What do you mean?” Blast Off couldn’t help but be suspicious. They were in a lower class establishment after all…
“Ah, I’m not… I mean-“ The heliformer laughed, and shook his head briefly. “It’s just that we don’t have shuttles here often. And, honestly? You three are hard to overlook when you’re taller than everyone else in here.” He snickered softly at that, then smiled at Blast Off.
The shuttle thought it was weird. Usually his grumpy expression was enough that people left him alone; this mech, however, wasn’t impressed at all. “I see,” Blast Off answered, and shrugged. “They’re not my friends, though. We’re colleagues.”
“Oh?” The mech seemed surprised. “Well, if you’re just colleagues, then why don’t you just leave if you don’t like it here?”
“Can’t. It’ll get us all into trouble.”
The heliformer nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah… I think I know what you mean. I was in the military once. I was, uh…. dishonourably discharged, though, because I wasn’t good with all those orders and chain of commands and such. I’m an architect now. Always have liked art and such things more than weapons anyway. I built the theatre just down the Quadrant’s main street. It’s pretty cool. Well, I mean, I have to like it, since I built it, but I’ve been told it’s pretty awesome a few times.”
The mech stopped rambling, and glanced expectantly at Blast Off, his expression open and friendly.
The shuttle didn’t know what to say. He just nodded, and muttered again, “I see…”
Apparently, this was funny, because the heliformer laughed, partly covering it with the back of his hand. He shook his head once, then let his hand sink down. “You don’t care at all, do you?” It sounded amused.
“No, I don’t.”
At that, the mech giggled again; it made Blast Off frown deeply. He tried to ignore the heliformer, and drank the last bit of his own cube.
“I like when people are honest. So, what about you? What’s your name? You’re from Altihex?”
“I’m Blast Off; I’m from HEX,” Blast Off replied shortly, and eyed the other cube the heliformer had brought.
“Wow, neat! That’s this space station, right? I see it sometimes when it flies over Iacon at night. It’s kinda like a blinking, moving star. What's it like, living on a space station?”
This curiosity was odd, and Blast Off’s optics flickered in confusion. Not just about the outgoing way of the other, which still was friendly and not intrusive as expected, but also at the question itself. Blast Off didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as though he could compare it to living on the planet. He’d only been on Cybertron for a decacycle at the most.
“I don’t know? It’s… cramped? There’s not much room to go around. I’m not there often, though.”
“You’re on Cybertron often, then?”
Blast Off’s optics flickered anew. “No. I’m in space. A lot, and for long periods of time.” He took the cube, and sipped. It was the same drink he had before, and he wondered how the heliformer had known.
“Okay, that’s kinda awesome. I mean, flying around so much.” The mech seemed really impressed, and his rotor blade twitched. He put his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands, intensely staring at Blast Off.
The shuttle shifted a little.
“You’re some kind of explorer?” The rotor blade still moved, even if only slightly. It was still distracting, as was the mech’s whole cheerful excitement about this. Blast Off didn’t know why some planet-bound mech would be interested in space. It wasn’t his expertise at all.
“I am. Sort of…” Blast Off was an explorer, researcher and scientist. He didn’t feel like mentioning all of this, though.
“Wow, that’s so great!” the heliformer said with a beaming smile. “Tell me about it. Space must be awesome. We only know bits about it, you know. See it on TV shows and stuff, but that’s all fiction, so I’d love to hear how it really is!”
Blast Off opened his mouth, then closed it again. Sipping once, he thought about how to respond, but finally decided to say what was in his mind.
“I don't think I can do that.”
“Oh, why? Is it all some classified stuff?” The ‘copter beamed, but Blast Off shook his head.
“No, I just don’t think you’d understand even half of it, so it’d be wasted words.”
Despite this frank statement which wasn’t meant as an insult, but probably many people would have thought of it as one, the heliformer’s smile didn’t vanish. Instead, he just laughed again, and his expression morphed into an impish smirk, although Blast Off couldn’t interpret it as such.
“You’re very direct. I think I like you.”
The shuttle raised an optical ridge. “Aha…” he muttered, not knowing how else to reply.
Once more, the heliformer laughed softly. “You can still try to tell me? I mean, you can’t know if I don’t understand, right?”
“I guess I could…” Blast Off shrugged, and earned himself another snicker.
Eventually, Windcut was the one to talk about space, the way he knew it from TV, and Blast Off and huffed, sometimes amused, sometimes annoyed.
Over a joor passed, and now seven empty cubes were on the table. Not all were from Blast Off, but the shuttle had drunk four drinks, and the high grade made itself present.
The loud music made him dizzy, and the changing light caused a stinging ache in his optics. The air appeared too thick, full of too many different stenches that mingled and caused Blast Off’s scanners to glitch. It was like breathing in HEX's main engine room, down in the area where partly delicate and partly giant mechanisms controlled the space station’s life support systems and flight path. Only there the noises weren’t as maddening as the music in the club.
Blast Off shook his head again; he’d done so a few times while drinking the last cube, trying to shake off the dizziness.
“I think I need to get some fresh air,” he said, and interrupted the other’s rambling.
“I was just about to ask if you'd come, too. The air’s making me dizzy…” the heliformer replied, now without the cheerful expression on his face, which was rather pinched. He swayed when he stood up, and Blast Off was also quite unsteady on his feet.
The high grade had to have been be either pretty strong, or the effect got worse when Blast Off stood up. It didn’t really matter now, because he had to clutch at the table’s edge to keep standing.
It took him about a klik before he dared to let go and started to move. Struggling to reach the door, Blast Off’s dizziness increased.
Only because of a light touch at his back, he noticed the heliformer following him, and heard a faint muttering. “I’m right behind you…”
---
Blast Off woke up, and didn’t feel very well.
He was dizzy, even though his equilibrium chip was working, and there was gravity that held him in place. It wasn’t unusual that the gravity mechanisms on HEX didn’t work or were being maintained and one woke up floating.
Blast Off wasn’t floating, though, and he wasn’t on HEX.
He lay on a berth, on his front, and he felt sick. His tanks rumbled once, and he winced when his comm-line pinged.
He refused to online his optics, and to accept the call. Maybe if he ignored it long enough, the other person would give up.
It pinged again.
Blast Off groaned, shuffled on the berth, then rolled over - and fell off.
With a loud clang, his back hit the ground, and it was by reflex that his optical sensors activated. The light stung in the first moment, causing a sharp pain in his processor, and Blast Off’s vocaliser produced a low whine.
He didn’t need to look around much to know that he wasn’t in the guest quarters of the Iacon science facility. The rest of the still unprocessed high grade made his processor sluggish, but after a few astroseconds, Blast Off remembered where he was instead.
His optics widened, but he had no time to think further about it.
His communication equipment pinged once more, and this time, he opened the line, knowing who was contacting him.
//Sigma, Blast Off, we were worried about you! Where are you?// Lunar Pulse said, troubled.
//I’m on the floor…// Blast Off answered, deadpan, and with his voice hoarse.
//What? No - you’re not. We checked. Blast Off, you okay? You sound… kinda worn out, or something…//
//I’m fine,// Blast Off replied, tiredly, and dimmed his optics. Someone on the berth moved, he heard the surface shifting under the weight, but he kept his vocaliser shut for now. //I’m just, uh…// Well, how did he explain this?
//You were gone yesterday, and we thought you were already back at base, but you weren’t. The presentation is today. You’ll be back in time, won’t you?//
Blast Off didn’t answer right away. Again the sound of shuffling on the berth, then half a leg appeared in his visual field - a red leg, with small rotor blades on the knee. More movement, then an elbow emerged, the side of a torso, a hip and waist and one of three black rotors, and eventually, a face glanced down at him.
“Hey…” the ‘copter said with a drowsy voice and a dozy smile. “You’re lying on the floor…”
“Yeah, looks like I am,” Blast Off muttered, the sarcastic undertone hard to hear within the static of his voice.
Now, with the heliformer in view, the memories came back more vividly, and Blast Off’s ailerons clacked once against his legs. He had the urge to touch his lip plates, but stopped himself in time from doing so. His optics still flicked to the other’s mouth, however, and his jaw clenched, and relaxed again as he remembered.
They were outside, both quite drunk. Blast Off leant against the wall, a bit away from the club’s entrance. The heliformer was next to him, rambling once more, but the voice mingled with the chatter of other people, and it didn’t matter.
Despite his optics being online, Blast Off didn’t really notice the ‘copter moving until he was in front of him. Small hands were placed on his shoulders when the heliformer pulled himself up. He muttered something, still smiling, but Blast Off was too surprised and confused to truly listen.
Blast Off’s confusion only increased when the other’s mouth was on his own, and moved. Optics flickered, and his energy field wavered. Blast Off wanted to say something, but couldn’t, because the foreign lip plates were still there, and with his own opened just a bit, he tasted the other’s drink, and something else.
It was odd, unfamiliar and intoxicating, and Blast Off had no idea what to do. At first, he wanted to push the heliformer away, but Blast Off was also quite inebriated, and somehow mimicking the other’s movements seemed to be a good idea.
It was clumsy, and it was as though he still had to learn and get used to it. But it wasn’t bad.
No, it wasn’t bad at all.
Blast Off’s hands were at the heliformer’s hips, originally placed there to push him off, but now to keep him in place - and to have something for support other than the wall behind him.
After a moment, the ‘copter withdrew, and lips tugged to a small grin. “You haven’t kissed before, have you?”
His optics flickered once more, and he shook his head. “We don’t do that on HEX.”
The space station was like its own small society, isolated from the rest of Cybertron. No one built there knew about the habits Cybertronians adopted from other species, just like they’d done with ‘kissing’.
“What a pity.” The grin was still there, but it was odd, more a smirk as the ‘copter tilted his head. “You don’t like it?”
“No.”
“Hm? ‘No’ as in ‘no, I don’t like it’, or ‘no, I do not not like it’?”
Blast Off didn’t hear the amused edge in the voice, he was too busy processing the question. After a few astroseconds, he just shook his head. His engine revved, and he pulled the other closer, answering the question by kissing him.
The heliformer still smirked. Blast Off felt it on his own lip plates, but it dissolved when his energy field flared with something different than confusion and caused the ‘copter to moan…
//Blast Off?// his colleagues voice dragged Blast Off back to the present, and he tensed a little.
//I’ll be there. I hope…//
//What do you mean, you hope. Slaggit, Blast Off, at first you don’t wanna go at all, and now you’re lost somewhere, and-//
//Be quiet,// Blast Off interrupted the other shuttle, not admitting to himself that he was right. That, and of all things that Blast Off could have done, he’d interfaced with a planet bound mech. He really had to keep quiet about this, or his colleagues would never live him that one down…
Blast Off rebooted his optics, and addressed the heliformer who still gazed down at him absentmindedly. “I need to go back to the research facility.”
“Oh…” If Blast Off had paid attention, he would have heard the slight disappointment. “Uh, it’s not far from here. You can either go down the street, and follow the main street, or you take a shortcut to the fly-way through the city, then you’d be there in a bit more than a breem.”
The ‘copter pinged for a data transfer, and Blast Off accepted. The shortcut was complicated, and not as though many people knew about it. He raised an optical ridge. “It’s really a short cut?”
The heliformer nodded, voice filled with a weird amusement. “It is, believe me. I’m an architect, remember? I know my city.”
“Okay.” Blast Off muttered dubiously, but didn’t get up. His optics roved over what he saw from the ‘copter. He remembered the tail rotor spinning last night, and main rotors shuddering, the other arching his back off the berth while Blast Off had pinned the wrists above his head. Everything had moved, and shifted, and spun, but it’d been so easy to hold the heliformer down...
That thought sent a shiver down Blast Off’s back struts, and he had to remind himself that he had to leave.
“I should go,” Blast Off said, but still didn’t move. The other on the edge of the berth nodded, but also just kept lying there, and it caused Blast Off to frown.
“You’re kinda cute.”
At that, the frown deepened, and his voice was sceptical. “I am?” He regretted these words instantly. It was a stupid answer, or question in return, and Blast Off decided that he didn’t particularly like being called cute.
“Well, thanks - I guess?” he corrected himself, and came to the conclusion that this hadn’t been much better. He should just keep quiet now.
And he did. For almost another klik, he didn’t say anything, and the heliformer was silent as well. Only his colleague asked over the commlink, //Uh, Blast Off?//
//I’ll be on my way.//
//Oh, thank Sigma! Just take care.//
Yes, he needed to go. The shuttle nodded briefly to himself, and this time he really wanted to stand up, but his optics fell on the dented red waist of the ‘copter, and he froze when another memory file activated.
He’d done that unintentionally the night before, during overload…
The heliformer glanced down his side where the shuttle’s optics were fixed on, and laughed. Blast Off tensed once more.
“That’s okay,” the other grinned, “I like strong mechs.”
Now, Blast Off really didn’t know what to say what wouldn’t sound inappropriate at all, and so he just stared.
“I’ll leave now…”
“When do you have to be back at the facility?” The ‘copter’s long, slim fingers appeared over the edge of the berth, and Blast Off wondered if his hands transformed into his alt-mode nose. They’d been intriguing, had teased him, the transformation seams and the circuitry under his plating where bigger fingers could never reach.
“I have to attend a presentation in about three joors.”
“Oh? You know, three joors is a lot of time if the way takes only a breem…” The other smirked down at him, and the implication was clear even for Blast Off.
His ailerons clicked again, and another shudder surged down his frame. Raising an arm and placing it at the berth, Blast Off eventually sat up. His face was much too close to the ‘copter’s, but somehow, it was okay.
His optics flicked to the other’s lip plates, and he pondered, trying to make a decision that had already been made.
//I’ll be back at base in time. I’ll just be there a bit later,// Blast Off commed his colleague, who answered rather confused.
//What? Hey, Blast Off, you’re-//
Blast Off cut the line.
In his peripheral vision he saw rotor blades shudder, and his own energy field flared with anticipation.
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