Hound and Mirage, snippet no.2
Feb. 16th, 2010 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ayngelcatTitle: Now I like "Duplicity" better than "Despicable"
‘Verse: G1
Series: 1
Rating: Heading for (very) NC 17
Characters/Pairings: Hound/Mirage
When I write a bit more of this and settle on the title, I'll post it somewhere in one hit!
I now feel awful for Trailbreaker but I can't not write angst. No matter how hard I try. And this is heading in a very angsty direction =D
Duplicity Snippet 2
Although Hound tried hard not to disturb his bondmate, the big grey-blue mech stirred unhappily as he clambered over him. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“I can’t recharge,” replied Hound. “I’m going down to the control room to see if they need a hand.”
Trailbreaker didn’t bother to reply. He turned over so his bondmate would not see the moisture gathering in the corners of his optics. He knew exactly why Hound couldn’t sleep and where he was probably going. It had been coming, he knew, and enough mechs had warned him Hound was the racer’s “type” before they came on this mission. But to see it all unfolding for real hurt like blazes nevertheless. “Don’t be too long ... please Hound ....” he managed to get out.
“I won’t!” Hound kissed his helm lightly. The door whooshed open and he passed through it buoyantly, heading down the corridor with a spring in his step, delighted and relieved that Trailbreaker sounded cheerful enough and obviously didn’t suspect anything. Not that there was anything to suspect. Not yet.
But there will be! Thought the Tracker, gleefully. Oh yes! The looks the racer had given him today, there was no doubt about that! It was just a matter of time. Depending on how long they could hold out – and on circumstances, of course.
Hound thought of the beautiful face and slender elegance and fluid transformations, and remembered the exquisite scent of the high quality alloys, mingled with custom mixed blue and white paint. Heat and wild excitement swept through him and he felt his intraconduit energon pressure spike suddenly, every pleasure node in his neural system tingling in rapturous anticipation.
The Tracker stepped through the small, infrequently used side entrance to the Ark and on to the mountainside, bathed in shafts of orange early morning sunlight, feet crunching on the rough surface as he slowly walked and then stopped to take in the scene below. A soft mist hung over the pines and birds wheeled gracefully in the blue canopy above, their wild cries punctuating the dawn. His optics are nearly that colour ...
Offlining his own optics, the Tracker threw his head back and took a deep intake, holding the crisp air momentarily, taking in the gentle stillness, absorbing the sweet scent of trees and soil and little Earth creatures and feeling utterly alive. Then he exhaled contentedly, his visual field returning, happiness filling every synapse. What more could he want? A beautiful planet, wonderful friends, and soon - he tingled again - the most exquisite ‘facing he had ever had in his life.
Because it would be. Oh yes! The Tracker knew it. He could tell. His keen and superbly calibrated instincts had never let him down. They left him in no doubt.
And when it happened - as it soon would - what his bondmate didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
.........................
Sorreeee TB
‘Verse: G1
Series: 1
Rating: Heading for (very) NC 17
Characters/Pairings: Hound/Mirage
When I write a bit more of this and settle on the title, I'll post it somewhere in one hit!
I now feel awful for Trailbreaker but I can't not write angst. No matter how hard I try. And this is heading in a very angsty direction =D
Duplicity Snippet 2
Although Hound tried hard not to disturb his bondmate, the big grey-blue mech stirred unhappily as he clambered over him. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“I can’t recharge,” replied Hound. “I’m going down to the control room to see if they need a hand.”
Trailbreaker didn’t bother to reply. He turned over so his bondmate would not see the moisture gathering in the corners of his optics. He knew exactly why Hound couldn’t sleep and where he was probably going. It had been coming, he knew, and enough mechs had warned him Hound was the racer’s “type” before they came on this mission. But to see it all unfolding for real hurt like blazes nevertheless. “Don’t be too long ... please Hound ....” he managed to get out.
“I won’t!” Hound kissed his helm lightly. The door whooshed open and he passed through it buoyantly, heading down the corridor with a spring in his step, delighted and relieved that Trailbreaker sounded cheerful enough and obviously didn’t suspect anything. Not that there was anything to suspect. Not yet.
But there will be! Thought the Tracker, gleefully. Oh yes! The looks the racer had given him today, there was no doubt about that! It was just a matter of time. Depending on how long they could hold out – and on circumstances, of course.
Hound thought of the beautiful face and slender elegance and fluid transformations, and remembered the exquisite scent of the high quality alloys, mingled with custom mixed blue and white paint. Heat and wild excitement swept through him and he felt his intraconduit energon pressure spike suddenly, every pleasure node in his neural system tingling in rapturous anticipation.
The Tracker stepped through the small, infrequently used side entrance to the Ark and on to the mountainside, bathed in shafts of orange early morning sunlight, feet crunching on the rough surface as he slowly walked and then stopped to take in the scene below. A soft mist hung over the pines and birds wheeled gracefully in the blue canopy above, their wild cries punctuating the dawn. His optics are nearly that colour ...
Offlining his own optics, the Tracker threw his head back and took a deep intake, holding the crisp air momentarily, taking in the gentle stillness, absorbing the sweet scent of trees and soil and little Earth creatures and feeling utterly alive. Then he exhaled contentedly, his visual field returning, happiness filling every synapse. What more could he want? A beautiful planet, wonderful friends, and soon - he tingled again - the most exquisite ‘facing he had ever had in his life.
Because it would be. Oh yes! The Tracker knew it. He could tell. His keen and superbly calibrated instincts had never let him down. They left him in no doubt.
And when it happened - as it soon would - what his bondmate didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
.........................
Sorreeee TB
