Things change

 

          A door slides open. The figure silhouetted in the corridor light hesitates before stepping inside, uncertainty brushing lightly before insecurity returns to push him on. Light footsteps fade quickly as he crosses the floor to stand in the shadows of the simulation chamber, watching the warrior dancing in the spotlight.

Ribbons of brilliance spin through the still air as invisible assailants are engaged and brought down - flashes of light dazzling hungry optics until it seems the swordsman is sheathed in flickering armour; fittingly, his worth shown only when his skill is displayed. Without taking his attention from his steps, the warrior speaks.

“I did not expect to see you here.”

The other shrugged. “I was bored in the quarters.” A smirk bloomed. “I wanted to see how good you were.”

The warrior turned to look at his visitor. “And...?”

He shrugged again, the smirk blossoming into a mockingly coy smile.

A snort from the lightweaver. “You came down here for attention.” The other didn’t deny it - he was an insecure being at heart, try as he might to hide it, and often found himself craving someone strong to fall back on. “Are you complaining?” He countered, only half joking. Despite his ‘code’, borderline Maximalian as it was, the warrior was still a Predacon. Not to be relied on. But then, so was his visitor.

“I have put up with your insecurities thus far.” The newcomer winced delicately. With a swift rush and rattle the warrior was suddenly in front of him, his sheer size looming over the slight red figure caught in his shadow. The now-still sword held partly in the darkness, sparks of light glinting as its tip caught the peering beams, was an inch away from the scarlet mech’s throat. Through his shock the flier grinned up at him shakily - the warrior frowned, then his sensors flicked down to the blood red hands, their blades poised to rake his torso.

“You do realise those would barely scratch me,” he growled, dagger teeth bared.

The flier would have shrugged again as he spoke, but the sword made it a little risky. “At least I’d leave you something to remember me by.” His grin faded and the tone turned hard. “I take care of myself, Dinobot- no-one else. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you indeed.” The warrior snorted. The sword lowered - almost imperceptively, but the soft sigh as some of the tension bled from the flier’s body was relieved...and noticeable. Dinobot picked up on it. “You couldn’t last a megacycle on your own.”

“I made it this far, didn’t I?” His tone was softer, the blades tilting, almost flat to the warrior’s sides. The sword lowered further - whispering across the red chestplate, waking sensors to a sensation just on the preferable side of pain.  The sword dropped, the warrior sheathing it as Terrorsaur lightly brought his hands to Dinobot’s chest, taking advantage of the swordsman’s stretch to delicately run silver fingertips over rough brown plating. He could feel Dinobot’s fuel pump beating hard after the simulation, and abruptly realised the warrior wouldn’t have come down from the rush of fighting yet - the split-second realisation didn’t help any as Dinobot’s arms wrapped lightening-fast round him. Terrorsaur felt panic start to bubble up inside him. He hated being pinned...and the other was a warrior!

Dinobot must have seen the flash of terror burst into Terrorsaur’s optics - he loosened his grip on the flier but didn’t move away, his body still pressed against crimson and silver.     

 “You know full well why you made it this far” the warrior growled, low and hissing over Terrorsaur’s audios as he bent his head to look into red optics. “Megatron was so desperate for troops he would have taken anyone.”

“But he took me, not just ‘anyone’” Terrorsaur purred, dragging his composure back by the scruff of the neck as panic slowed and he started to relax a little in the warrior’s arms. Averting his head from the sharp stare he lightly ran silver fingertips up over ribbed plating. He could have sworn he felt Dinobot shiver as the warrior pressed close, voice rough as he snarled “Do not think it will be an easy ride with the Predacons. There are no luxuries in a war.” His point-tipped fingers ran over Terrorsaur’s wings, the flier shuddering and melting into the warrior’s arms even as he murmured shakily “Watch the finish.” Red arms running pleadingly down his back, Dinobot smirked as the flier surrendered to his phobias again. “Why?” He stroked the wingtips, claws teasing out a moan from silver lips as he brought sensors all down the edges of Terrorsaur’s pointed wings into rippling convulsions. “What will it do?”

“Don’t - make fun of me. You’ll regret it,” Terrorsaur managed, the attempted snarl falling into a gasp as he pressed closer - needy, needing to be needed, sought after; silver fingers pleading at Dinobot’s skin betraying him.

 “Will I indeed” the warrior snorted, the harsh tone conflicting with gentle, graceful sweeps of fingertips inscribing possession over the flier’s wings and sides; Terrorsaur shuddered and Dinobot felt the quake as he pressed ever closer, shining limbs trembling against dark armour.

“Yes...”

     Neither were sure whether Terrorsaur’s soft sigh was answer or entreaty. Both were past caring.

 

          Some time later the two lay curled together on the floor, Terrorsaur deep in recharge, contented and safe, for the moment, in the knowledge that strong arms were round him. Optics barely online, Dinobot looked over at the flier and sighed. One day the flyboy was going to let his insecurities drag him down into something he couldn’t get out of, and there was nothing Dinobot could do. He didn’t care for the red Predacon particularly, but something kept prompting him to keep doing this with little thought for any consequences. Predacons generally found it hard to trust others initially and there was certainly no love lost here, but there was a frailty to Terrorsaur that tugged at the warrior. Neither of them wanted a bondmate or companionship, so this was merely an arrangement of convenience - and would have to end for the duration of Megatron’s latest scheme. A starcruiser was no place for a casual fling.         

 

 

The End.

 

 

 

 

Dinobot and Terrorsaur are © Hasbro. I’m fairly certain this time... The story’s © me again, obviously.