First Aid and Blades: Unrequited
Mar. 20th, 2011 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ayngelcatTitle: ‘Unrequited’
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Blades, First Aid
Warnings: Coarse language, talk of sexual acts (non explicit) a mild (and brief) sexual encounter.
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tf_speedwriting 20/3/11 Prompt #2: “Kiss Me”
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story
Notes: Part of ‘Substitute’ AU - therefore set a while after 'B.O.T.' And it links to all the other stories I’ve so far written bout Protectobots. First Aid leaves the Protectobots not long after this and goes – elsewhere! Poor Blades!
UNREQUITED
“Thank you, Protectobots!” Hot Spot said. “Our next bonding session will be on – uh – when is it, First Aid?"
“Next Monday,” I said. “Yes – then!”
The session came to an end. There was a sound of scraping as the circle of chairs was pushed back, and a clanking as the five mechs got up. Nobody spoke. Hot Spot turned to me, already looking flustered.
“Thanks, Aid!” he said. “Gotta go, though. “Bush fire out west. Inferno’s barely holding up! Just hope I haven’t left it too late, anyway – gotta fly – see you later …”
I watched with a sinking spark as he rushed out of the door. Groove followed him, a lot more slowly, his head bowed, still upset, I knew, by the departure of his new lover, Beachcomber, for a stint in Australia. Meanwhile, Streetwise had the mobile phone device-thing he'd invented, and was now talking into it, exactly as I knew he’d wanted to for the entire session.
Yes, they’d all been preoccupied. The session had hardly been a success.
“Yo, bro! Bonding stuff’s over, on my way!” Streetwise said. His human friend Raoul, I presumed, the one Tracks had used to be tied up. I watched, as he left also without even a glance in my direction.
Blades and I were left alone in the room, and he of course, lingered behind. He had that look on his faceplates – one which made clear that he had not stayed for the purpose of putting the chairs away.
Oh no! I thought. Do we really have to go through this again?
.........
“Sit down Blades.” I said. But he wouldn’t. He stood there instead, all indignation and gleaming red and white and bristling rotors. “I’d rather stand!” he declared.
So I sat. And tried to be as calm as possible. “What is it Blades?” I said.
“Hah!” he said. “I wonder you ask. Especially after that load of pit just then! Don’t tell me you reckon we tuned into each other and felt the gestalt close all around !
“No Blades, “ I said. “I have to admit the energy flow has been better at times.”
“The energy flow!” he scoffed. “ What energy flow. I didn’t feel any ‘energy flow!’ And I’ll bet if you asked any of them …” he jerked his head at the door, “they didn’t either!”
I sighed. “We’re still fairly new to this, Blades. With a little time and commitment …. “
“It’s not working and you won’t admit it!” he snarled. “And you know what we are gonna have to do to make it right!”
............
He was standing on the far side of the room by the window, rotors quivering. Blue optics blazed from a set of faceplates firmly set into a defiant scowl.
“Blades we went through this!” I said softly.
"Yeah - right!" He folded his arms and looked away.
“Look,” I said, wondering if the explanation would fall on any less deaf audios than previously. “We’re different from other gestalts, Blades. We weren’t created as interdependent. We’re a bunch of mechs with different backgrounds and talents, who now serve a common purpose - which includes forming Defensor. But we’re not – intrinsically interlocked. The only others I know like us are the Combaticons …”
As I said it, I knew it was probably unwise, and I was right. “I’ll bet they don’t have any ‘hang ups’ in this department!” he shouted, turning on me, his optics afire. “In fact – I know they don’t! Drag Strip told me – they frag all the time! Especially with each other!”
I tried to remain calm; and to not think about the Combaticons ‘fragging each other’ which had an effect - much as I didn't want it to - not entirely in keeping with the Autobot Cause. “The Combaticons are – different from us in other ways,” I said. “They are – battle machines, Bruticus, a mechanism of strategic attack. They’re cohesiveness depends on – a degree of closeness which they can probably only achieve by …” I forced myself to say the word, “ ….. fragging.”
“I don’t see the difference! Defensor's a mechanism of strategic defense. We need to be cohesive.”
“We do,” I said, “but we also need to retain our individuality. We do very different jobs, Blades. Tasks where we need to think independently. If we – interface between ourselves, we will lose that. How would it be if you needed to rescue a human and found yourself unable to do so unless Streetwise or Groove or I were right there? At the moment, our presence wouldn't even cross your mind. That is what I wish to retain. ”
“I still don’t see the difference!” he growled. And I hoped, then – not for the first time - that my own logic was right on this. But, I remembered, the others accepted it without question. That made me think that it was. That, and the careful research I had conducted.
Besides, this was not – we both knew – the main issue.
“Look I know how you feel,” Blades, I said gently, getting up. I looked straight at him. “About - about me.”
He glared at me, and now a deeply wounded look came over his faceplates. “You’re not unattractive, Blades!” I said. “ If this situation had not come about things may be different. But I can’t make any exceptions. If you and I were to do that , then not only may we develop a dependency, but there could be an imbalance. It would ruin the equal flow I am trying to achieve through the bonding sessions.”
“Well you’re failing!” he snapped. “There is no equal flow - there’s no flow at all! You’re wrong!”
“Blades …” I began. But he made a sudden lunge in my direction. “Kiss me!” he gasped. And suddenly I was in his arms, being pressed against him, his lips against mine. // Here, I’ll show you how wrong you are! // he rasped.
………………………….
I won’t say it didn’t get harder every time. He felt wonderful, all hot vibrating metal, seething with need, deep and throbbing. And my own needs were suddenly so much there, to melt into him as he closed around me, to connect, to feel the current rippling between us. I could feel charge surging, bubbling up, urging for expression and release. It was not without effort that I gathered all my strength and shoved him away.
I am stronger than I look, both physically and emotionally; a fact which serves me well from time to time. He reeled backwards, colliding with a table, a mortified look on his face. “That’s enough!” I said firmly.
But he was shaking, all unsatisfied lust and anger and devastated rejection. “You know you want it!” he yelled. “It’s obvious you do! Everyone thinks so. They reckon behind you being all ‘cool’ and collected you’re frustrated and fucked up, First Aid!”
And the awful thing was, he was right! He had no idea the measures I had to take to suppress thoughts of interfacing. Or of how much I especially wanted things to be different – with him . But I could not let him see that! And - he was now out of order. It was time to really lay it down the line.
“I have recommended to Hot Shot that our gestalt operates as it does, and he agrees, and that is the end of the matter! I said, in that way which – in my experience - tends to make mechs back off as it's obvious there really is no argument. “Furthermore, Blades, if you haven't forgotten everything I told you before, then you will remember that I have chosen celibacy! Across the board! And I did so not only to stick to the rules within my own team, but so I don’t upset members of it who might be hurt by my affections being offered elsewhere!”
Now he hung his head and turned away again, rotors drooping. I sighed. “It isn’t easy, but it’s – it’s what I’ve chosen. For both our sakes.” I said.
There were, of course, other reasons. I’m well built, with expensive alloys and intricate parts. High caste in origins. And Blades wasn’t the only one who lusted after me at every opportunity – although, curiously, none of the other Autobots inspired the same level of my own desires. Anyway, refusing all of them and maintaining a strictly doctor-patient situation was the only way I would retain my credibility. And have any chance at all of working with Ratchet, who already frowned at my methods and was deeply resentful of the ‘competition’ he thought I posed – in every way.
Blades sat down and put his face in his hands. “I can’t help it,” he said. “I love you, First Aid! This is killing me! I think about you all the time.”
I sat down opposite him, my spark paining me. I did not dare touch him, for fear of the sensations it would arouse in both of us.
“Blades,” I said quietly, “ I don’t know how long we are going to be in this situation. In the meantime, I suggest you take a cue from Hot Shot and Streetwise and Groove and – find somebody else. I’m sorry, but I really am - not an option. We’ve all agreed that interfacing outside the team, however - for the rest of you - will do no harm at all.”
“I don’t want any of the other Autobots!” he muttered. Then he glared at me again, dramatically. “It will have to be a Decepticon!”
And I knew that was supposed to galvanize me into leaping up and saying ‘oh no! Anything but that!’ and – straight after – recanting and granting him his wish. But it didn’t. Instead I said simply, and very professionally:
“Very well, Blades. If that will make you happy, then so be it.”
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Blades, First Aid
Warnings: Coarse language, talk of sexual acts (non explicit) a mild (and brief) sexual encounter.
Prompt:
tf_speedwriting 20/3/11 Prompt #2: “Kiss Me”Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story
Notes: Part of ‘Substitute’ AU - therefore set a while after 'B.O.T.' And it links to all the other stories I’ve so far written bout Protectobots. First Aid leaves the Protectobots not long after this and goes – elsewhere! Poor Blades!
UNREQUITED
“Thank you, Protectobots!” Hot Spot said. “Our next bonding session will be on – uh – when is it, First Aid?"
“Next Monday,” I said. “Yes – then!”
The session came to an end. There was a sound of scraping as the circle of chairs was pushed back, and a clanking as the five mechs got up. Nobody spoke. Hot Spot turned to me, already looking flustered.
“Thanks, Aid!” he said. “Gotta go, though. “Bush fire out west. Inferno’s barely holding up! Just hope I haven’t left it too late, anyway – gotta fly – see you later …”
I watched with a sinking spark as he rushed out of the door. Groove followed him, a lot more slowly, his head bowed, still upset, I knew, by the departure of his new lover, Beachcomber, for a stint in Australia. Meanwhile, Streetwise had the mobile phone device-thing he'd invented, and was now talking into it, exactly as I knew he’d wanted to for the entire session.
Yes, they’d all been preoccupied. The session had hardly been a success.
“Yo, bro! Bonding stuff’s over, on my way!” Streetwise said. His human friend Raoul, I presumed, the one Tracks had used to be tied up. I watched, as he left also without even a glance in my direction.
Blades and I were left alone in the room, and he of course, lingered behind. He had that look on his faceplates – one which made clear that he had not stayed for the purpose of putting the chairs away.
Oh no! I thought. Do we really have to go through this again?
.........
“Sit down Blades.” I said. But he wouldn’t. He stood there instead, all indignation and gleaming red and white and bristling rotors. “I’d rather stand!” he declared.
So I sat. And tried to be as calm as possible. “What is it Blades?” I said.
“Hah!” he said. “I wonder you ask. Especially after that load of pit just then! Don’t tell me you reckon we tuned into each other and felt the gestalt close all around !
“No Blades, “ I said. “I have to admit the energy flow has been better at times.”
“The energy flow!” he scoffed. “ What energy flow. I didn’t feel any ‘energy flow!’ And I’ll bet if you asked any of them …” he jerked his head at the door, “they didn’t either!”
I sighed. “We’re still fairly new to this, Blades. With a little time and commitment …. “
“It’s not working and you won’t admit it!” he snarled. “And you know what we are gonna have to do to make it right!”
............
He was standing on the far side of the room by the window, rotors quivering. Blue optics blazed from a set of faceplates firmly set into a defiant scowl.
“Blades we went through this!” I said softly.
"Yeah - right!" He folded his arms and looked away.
“Look,” I said, wondering if the explanation would fall on any less deaf audios than previously. “We’re different from other gestalts, Blades. We weren’t created as interdependent. We’re a bunch of mechs with different backgrounds and talents, who now serve a common purpose - which includes forming Defensor. But we’re not – intrinsically interlocked. The only others I know like us are the Combaticons …”
As I said it, I knew it was probably unwise, and I was right. “I’ll bet they don’t have any ‘hang ups’ in this department!” he shouted, turning on me, his optics afire. “In fact – I know they don’t! Drag Strip told me – they frag all the time! Especially with each other!”
I tried to remain calm; and to not think about the Combaticons ‘fragging each other’ which had an effect - much as I didn't want it to - not entirely in keeping with the Autobot Cause. “The Combaticons are – different from us in other ways,” I said. “They are – battle machines, Bruticus, a mechanism of strategic attack. They’re cohesiveness depends on – a degree of closeness which they can probably only achieve by …” I forced myself to say the word, “ ….. fragging.”
“I don’t see the difference! Defensor's a mechanism of strategic defense. We need to be cohesive.”
“We do,” I said, “but we also need to retain our individuality. We do very different jobs, Blades. Tasks where we need to think independently. If we – interface between ourselves, we will lose that. How would it be if you needed to rescue a human and found yourself unable to do so unless Streetwise or Groove or I were right there? At the moment, our presence wouldn't even cross your mind. That is what I wish to retain. ”
“I still don’t see the difference!” he growled. And I hoped, then – not for the first time - that my own logic was right on this. But, I remembered, the others accepted it without question. That made me think that it was. That, and the careful research I had conducted.
Besides, this was not – we both knew – the main issue.
“Look I know how you feel,” Blades, I said gently, getting up. I looked straight at him. “About - about me.”
He glared at me, and now a deeply wounded look came over his faceplates. “You’re not unattractive, Blades!” I said. “ If this situation had not come about things may be different. But I can’t make any exceptions. If you and I were to do that , then not only may we develop a dependency, but there could be an imbalance. It would ruin the equal flow I am trying to achieve through the bonding sessions.”
“Well you’re failing!” he snapped. “There is no equal flow - there’s no flow at all! You’re wrong!”
“Blades …” I began. But he made a sudden lunge in my direction. “Kiss me!” he gasped. And suddenly I was in his arms, being pressed against him, his lips against mine. // Here, I’ll show you how wrong you are! // he rasped.
………………………….
I won’t say it didn’t get harder every time. He felt wonderful, all hot vibrating metal, seething with need, deep and throbbing. And my own needs were suddenly so much there, to melt into him as he closed around me, to connect, to feel the current rippling between us. I could feel charge surging, bubbling up, urging for expression and release. It was not without effort that I gathered all my strength and shoved him away.
I am stronger than I look, both physically and emotionally; a fact which serves me well from time to time. He reeled backwards, colliding with a table, a mortified look on his face. “That’s enough!” I said firmly.
But he was shaking, all unsatisfied lust and anger and devastated rejection. “You know you want it!” he yelled. “It’s obvious you do! Everyone thinks so. They reckon behind you being all ‘cool’ and collected you’re frustrated and fucked up, First Aid!”
And the awful thing was, he was right! He had no idea the measures I had to take to suppress thoughts of interfacing. Or of how much I especially wanted things to be different – with him . But I could not let him see that! And - he was now out of order. It was time to really lay it down the line.
“I have recommended to Hot Shot that our gestalt operates as it does, and he agrees, and that is the end of the matter! I said, in that way which – in my experience - tends to make mechs back off as it's obvious there really is no argument. “Furthermore, Blades, if you haven't forgotten everything I told you before, then you will remember that I have chosen celibacy! Across the board! And I did so not only to stick to the rules within my own team, but so I don’t upset members of it who might be hurt by my affections being offered elsewhere!”
Now he hung his head and turned away again, rotors drooping. I sighed. “It isn’t easy, but it’s – it’s what I’ve chosen. For both our sakes.” I said.
There were, of course, other reasons. I’m well built, with expensive alloys and intricate parts. High caste in origins. And Blades wasn’t the only one who lusted after me at every opportunity – although, curiously, none of the other Autobots inspired the same level of my own desires. Anyway, refusing all of them and maintaining a strictly doctor-patient situation was the only way I would retain my credibility. And have any chance at all of working with Ratchet, who already frowned at my methods and was deeply resentful of the ‘competition’ he thought I posed – in every way.
Blades sat down and put his face in his hands. “I can’t help it,” he said. “I love you, First Aid! This is killing me! I think about you all the time.”
I sat down opposite him, my spark paining me. I did not dare touch him, for fear of the sensations it would arouse in both of us.
“Blades,” I said quietly, “ I don’t know how long we are going to be in this situation. In the meantime, I suggest you take a cue from Hot Shot and Streetwise and Groove and – find somebody else. I’m sorry, but I really am - not an option. We’ve all agreed that interfacing outside the team, however - for the rest of you - will do no harm at all.”
“I don’t want any of the other Autobots!” he muttered. Then he glared at me again, dramatically. “It will have to be a Decepticon!”
And I knew that was supposed to galvanize me into leaping up and saying ‘oh no! Anything but that!’ and – straight after – recanting and granting him his wish. But it didn’t. Instead I said simply, and very professionally:
“Very well, Blades. If that will make you happy, then so be it.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 07:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 09:33 am (UTC)Poor Blades indeed! He deserves someone who'll take a few risks every so often.
I'm very much looking forward to more of this :D
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 10:10 am (UTC)I also disagree with First Aid. I think if some of the others had 'attractions' for each other then that may have made a difference. I also think First Aid had a bee in his bonnet and a lot of this was about 'showing' Ratchet how in control of everything he was. Only to have it all 'give way' of course, and for him to go right over the top - in a somewhat 'inappropriate' way, LOL. I'm a sucker for illicit affairs, too XD
As for Blades - he'll be fine. Eventually :P
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 10:21 am (UTC)Glad Blades will be good eventually!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 10:34 am (UTC)There's another element in this too which hasn't come out in anything I've posted: Smokescreen gets sent to try and find out 'what's going wrong with the PBots' (according to his bios, he was sometimes asked to investigate and give internal intel about colleagues to O.Prime.) You may find that concept entertaining XD
Smokey, of course, has ulterior motives re what he decides to do !
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 03:59 pm (UTC)I do indeed find the concept of Smokey going to find out what happened entertaining. *hopes he ends up having accidental hot sex with Blades, possibly with Swindle sandwiched between* (Swindle-flavoured sandwich is the best kind of sandwich)
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 11:57 pm (UTC)In this, Smokey is mainly concerned with going after Swindle - against orders - and trying to persuade him that things are 'better now' without the Combaticons. Then later, that he shouldn't go back.
I think certain insecticon has fun with Blades at some point LOL
no subject
Date: 2011-03-21 08:22 am (UTC)Mmmm, Kickback/Blades would indeed be a nice pairing to see :D
no subject
Date: 2011-03-20 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-21 12:06 am (UTC)Yes, this is the same verse as the other FA fics, and also the one about Blades envying Vortex. The main story of the verse centers around Swindle leaving the Combaticons and being substituted - for a while - by others, initially - First Aid.
But I had to get to know the PBots better if this was going to have any credibility - and it has been much fun doing so. I wrote this the other day - The Blue Lagoon, about Beachcomber and Groove.
There's a load of Swindle fics too on speedwriting - but hey! You just inspired me to finish Master Fic List XD
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-25 10:24 am (UTC)Yes with First Aid - I'm just a sucker for repression of desires which later break loose in an extreme way !!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-25 06:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-26 05:39 pm (UTC)I felt sorry all the way through reading this for poor Blades, though!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 05:54 am (UTC)Yes indeed poor Blades! Mecholesence is such a hard time anyway without First Aid compounding matters :P
no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-26 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 05:50 am (UTC)