CHARACTERS: Drift and VARIOUS LOCATION: around the station DATE: Mid February CONTENT: That post-mission funk WARNINGS: EDIT: ah shit the robots are fucking again
You're not who I want, [ Drift confessed with the tired resignation of someone who hadn't quite given up but teetered on that edge of numbing oblivion. His words were incongruous with how his hand gentled over the space between Megatron's thigh and waist. As though the living metal could be smoothed like rumbled fabric or the prickled hair of a cat's back. ]
I can still be glad you're here even if I'm not who you want, either.
[ Of course he isn't Megatron has never deluded himself by thinking that he was the peson Drift really wanted next to him. Not since this tawdry business began. SLowly, Megatron's weight shifts and he leans against Drift. An arm wraps around the other to draw him closer into an awkwardly intimate embrace. ]
[Tawrdy was undoubtedly one among many words to describe the two of them falling back into millennia-old habits, albeit on new and unfamiliar ground. A strange catharsis in mutual grief drew them into each other's orbits.
Drift slipped a leg between Megatron's as his head rested against his chest. The Autobrand a slightly raised surface against his cheek on the otherwise smooth, gunmetal gray surface. It was almost comfort, and it was a ghost of contentment. ]
[ Megatron has always been awkwardly averse to real intimacy. The act of copulation was on its own, a fairly simple way to blow off steam. To vent. To seek solace in physical sensation. Actual intimacy, such as this, he had kept at arm's length until the regret at doing so in one final case had crushed him. There's a shaking sigh and a hand gently cradles the back of Drift's head, holds the other against the broad chestplate. ]
Can we stay like this? Just for a moment.
[ It's not that he wants to wave Drift's offer away. He needs a moment, that's all. A moment to feel something. ]
[ Drift could close his eyes and almost overlay the ghost of the memory of the hands he wanted on him. That need, likes so much else, was achingly just out of reach. He wondered who haunted Megatron's mind when he used Drift as a proxy for the intimacy the tragedy of his own mistakes had denied him. More than one name came to mind. ]
Long as you want. [ Drift answered, not unkindly. Knowing time wouldn't stretch so long for it be what Megatron needed. ]
[ Megatron's voice is quiet, thoughtful. Plaintive. A voice that Drift probably isn't used to hearing from him, even back in the early days and their strange intimacy at the beginning of the war. ]
It's not about deserve. [ Drift countered with no real heat behind his words, only a quiet resignation that what they 'deserved' hardly factored into what was ultimately a mutually selfish endeavor. Neither he nor Megatron needed to be reminded of the inconvenience of being used. ]
I wanted you to stay, I should be thanking you. [ Turning on his side, Drift let implication hang in the rapidly diminishing space between them. ]
[ Part of Megatron wants to deny it. Let this be the limit of their intimacy tonight. Let it be quiet and remorseful, let it be comforting without the exhilaration and rush of stimulation.
He doesn't know that he has the spark to refuse Drift his comfort, though. So he leans forward slightly, nudges Drift's head into the space where his shoulder and neck meet, and wraps an arm around the other's waist to draw him closer. Let the space disappear and let them pretend to themselves that this will make them happy. If only for a moment. ]
Please don't.
[ A hand strokes along the line of Drift's waist. The thought of Drift thanking him leaves a bitter taste at the back of his throat and he bends downwards to nudge against Drift's shoulder, creates space again so he draw another hand against Drift's side and rest his helm against the other's chest, then his sternum. Let him give something, maybe. If only to distract himself. ]
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aurable) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-02-13 07:36 pm
no subject
I can still be glad you're here even if I'm not who you want, either.
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You're kind to indulge my insecurities.
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Drift slipped a leg between Megatron's as his head rested against his chest. The Autobrand a slightly raised surface against his cheek on the otherwise smooth, gunmetal gray surface. It was almost comfort, and it was a ghost of contentment. ]
That road goes both ways.
no subject
Can we stay like this? Just for a moment.
[ It's not that he wants to wave Drift's offer away. He needs a moment, that's all. A moment to feel something. ]
no subject
Long as you want. [ Drift answered, not unkindly. Knowing time wouldn't stretch so long for it be what Megatron needed. ]
no subject
[ Megatron's voice is quiet, thoughtful. Plaintive. A voice that Drift probably isn't used to hearing from him, even back in the early days and their strange intimacy at the beginning of the war. ]
You're kinder to me than I deserve.
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I wanted you to stay, I should be thanking you. [ Turning on his side, Drift let implication hang in the rapidly diminishing space between them. ]
no subject
He doesn't know that he has the spark to refuse Drift his comfort, though. So he leans forward slightly, nudges Drift's head into the space where his shoulder and neck meet, and wraps an arm around the other's waist to draw him closer. Let the space disappear and let them pretend to themselves that this will make them happy. If only for a moment. ]
Please don't.
[ A hand strokes along the line of Drift's waist. The thought of Drift thanking him leaves a bitter taste at the back of his throat and he bends downwards to nudge against Drift's shoulder, creates space again so he draw another hand against Drift's side and rest his helm against the other's chest, then his sternum. Let him give something, maybe. If only to distract himself. ]