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WHO: Dead End and Rung
WHERE: In the medbay.
WHEN: A few days after everything that happened when Rung first woke up.
WHAT: Making up ~~and making out~~
WARNINGS: Nadda~

Actually, it had taken him him a few days to recover enough so that he could get up and move around and then it was a matter of working up the nerve to talk to Dead End. He knew that Knock Out wasn't going to let either of them leave until they made up--considering the medic had made it clear that Rung could only go back to his office if he had someone to look after him and that someone was Dead End apparently--but it was just a matter of him not feeling so awkward and nervous.

He was really worried that the other just wanted nothing more to do with him.

It was late, around that time that most would be resting but Rung's thoughts were keeping him up. He wanted out of the med bay, wanted to get back to helping others but he just..

Hesitating briefly, the therapist slowly pushed himself up and slid off his berth, wincing at how stiff he still felt. At least most of the pain was gone; that was a plus. He started away from his berth and slowly sought out the mech he was after, resisting the urge to start wringing his hands together, instead offering a small smile in greeting.

Hold it together, Rung.

"..Dead End..could..we talk?"

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Rung was quiet for a long moment, vents cycling quietly. This was edging into that are that he didn't like--the area where others thought they has to protect him--but he supposed it was understandable. He didn't have the best track record and Dead End though he had horrible look so of course he would assume bad things would happen to Rung.

"...You don't need to protect me all the time, Dead End," he said softly, optics dimmin again. "I worked with the Wreckers for the majority of the war back home and had to deal with some of the worst cases I've ever come across. I'd seen the best and worst of a lot of bots and despite all the bad I seem to attract, I can handle myself most of thr time. I don't want to be a burden to you, I don't want you to think you have to throw yourself in front of me if something had comes our way. I realize I'm not a fighter but I'm not weak."

He lifted his head to look at the the other properly now, engine revving softly.

"I appreciate the concern but I don want you to be so focused on keeping me safe that you get hurt in the process. I'd never forgive myself if that happened."

Wreckers. That would explain Rung's stubbornness and his inability to argue with him. If the Wreckers team was anything like the one from his world then that would explain quite a bit, but it's not enough for him to avoid worrying.

"I wasn't- I didn't mean to imply that you're weak."

Lacking weapons and not as durable as a soldier, yes. Weak, no. He just didn't have much confidence of Rung coming out completely unharmed from a fight. Or bug attack. Especially bug attacks.

"You're just. You don't have weapons to protect yourself and I'm a Decepticon, and..." He turns to look at the other, wrap his arms around him proper. "You were just hurt trying to keep me safe."

Rung you can't tell him no and do the very thing you told him he can't.

"I can shoot a gun, if need be...I'm just not great at it and I'm not a huge fan of the idea. But if I had to, I could. Kup made sure of that," he said with a hint of a sad smile at the mention of an old friend before he tucked those memories and feelings away. That was the past and there was no changing things now.

Leaning forward, engine purring a bit as he was embraced, Rung rested his forehead against Dead End's, a hand lifting to stroke the back of his neck like before.

"Some things--some individuals--are worth gettin hurt for. I just don't want you thinking you have to go out of your way to protect me all the time. Your safety is just as important as mine, no matter what you think."

"You don't have a gun." Not as far as Dead End was aware of at least. He had no idea who Kup was, but they were clearly a friend of Rung's and at least they made sure he had some knowledge on how to protect himself... But if the Autobot didn't have a gun then that knowledge wasn't very useful.

The Decepticon's engine revs against Rung in response to his own and the touch, Dead End dimming his optics as Rung tries to make his point. Explain why - for some reason - he was worth almost dying for. He can't say he agrees with the reasoning, that he was just as important, that it was worth trying to help him and getting mauled for it.

"I'm used to getting hurt all the time, and I'm not worth almost getting yourself killed. I don't want you dying while trying to help me." He can't stress that enough. Rung dying to protect him wasn't something he wanted.

"No, but if I got my hands in a sticky situation, I'd be alright," he countered softly, knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to do much with a gun but he wasn't going to say that outloud.

The rev of the other's engine as a content shudder running through the therapist, Rung shifting closer because it just feels..good. He revs his own engine again in response, continuing to caress the back of the other's neck even as his companion speaks.

"I'm not going to die, Dead End," Rung murmured with a shake of his head before almost nuzzling him a bit. "And maybe to me you are. Worth getting killed for I mean. Not to say that I'd go looking for the chance, because I'd rather neither of us ended up in a situation like that but...if the situation ever arose.."

"How?" he asks, not entirely believing that considering what had just recently happened. What guarantee did Rung have that he'd be okay? That he didn't need to worry if this happened. That the therapist wouldn't fall victim to his bad luck as the universe laughed at him, showing him exactly why he couldn't have anything nice. Why he couldn't feel anything but broody.

Despite the fact that his vents cycle out a sigh, he revs his engine hard, wings flicking in a pleased manner as he feels Rung's rev in response to his own. Fingers moving to gently run along the seams in the therapist's back as the other moves closer. It wasn't just the energon they were soaking in that would feel nice.

The look on Dead End's face makes it easy to tell that he doesn't agree, brows furrowed and mouth pouting - as pouty as his kind of mouth can be.

"I'm not. And if that situation ever came up, I wouldn't want you dying for me. You'd run and get somewhere safe."

"I'm not helpless, Dead End."

Rung knew he could handle himself if he had to, even if he might get a bit hurt in the process. And he wasn't scared; that was the important thing. After everything he'd gone through in his lifetime, there was very little that scared him anymore. Look at how he'd handled Knock Out's threats.

His train of thought is derailed a bit when the other traces the seams on his back, free hand resting against Dead End's chest as his engine gave another content rev.

"Only if you did the same were the positions reversed," Rung murmured, optics flickering and brightening as he focused on the other despite wanting to just focus on the feel of being so close. "This goes both ways, Dead End."

He shakes his head slowly, "I wasn't... How would you get out of a fight?"

If Rung had a good enough method to keep himself safe in those kind of situations then maybe he wouldn't have to worry too much - except when there were giant monstrous bugs about. Maybe he could consider that the therapist would be okay in those kinds of situations without him feeling like he needed to be there.

"No, it doesn't." He had swords, he'd been in tons of fights before. If the position were reversed then he'd have to help Rung not run off and leave him. He's not a coward - despite the fact that getting him to fight is as hard as it is, combined with his gloomy and somewhat paranoid state.

The Stunticon does however, continue to trace along the seams of Rung's back, despite their disagreement. His head tilting to rest against the therapist's neck.

It's hard to think let alone respond considering how good Dead End's touch and the closeness felt, the therapist letting his optics dim again.

"There are ways to avoid harm in a fight," he murmured, thinking back to the situation he'd been in with Fort Max and Whirl back on the Lost Light. Had it not been for Swerve's horrible aim--actually, had it not been for him getting involved at all--that entire thing would have been resolved peacefully, Rung had no doubts about that.

"...I don't want you to get hurt because of me, Dead End. That's what this comes down to. Just as much as you don't want me hurt for your sake, I don't want you hurt for mine," Rung said softly, a worried undertone there as he nuzzled the other absently again.

"Like?" he questions, not quite prepared to accept that as an answer. If there were ways then why didn't Rung use them when the bugs attacked him? How reliable were these methods? What about the fact that apparently tentacles were attracted to the other?

Even if Rung had won all previous arguments up to this point he wasn't ready to just back down. Not when it involved the other possibly getting himself killed for him. He just had to hope that if he didn't win this one, that kind of situation would never come up.

Who was he kidding, it would come up, with his luck. It would pop up when he least expected it, and when it would hurt most. That was how life was.

"And I'm insisting," he mumbles against the therapist's neck. "You keep yourself safe."

"...When...one does the kind of work I do, there are things you can do, ways to...manipulate others, if you so choose to," Rung explained hesitantly, feeling awkward all of a sudden because he didn't want this to come off the wrong way. He started to pull away a bit, looking away as he cleared his vocal processor. "It's..not something that I'm fond of--I don't like...it's not.."

Optics flickering, he sighed softly.

"Warfare of the mind is just as powerful as physical warfare."

Hand slipping away from the other's neck to cup his cheek, stroking it a bit.

"I will..I promise. As long as you do the same for yourself. Please Dead End.."

"So you're like..." But Rung's not like that, he wouldn't be and it's clear that he doesn't like the fact that he can do so if needed. The other is different he's positive of that. "Right."

Dead End's grip on the Autobot tightens as he pulls away, doing his best to try and reassure Rung, keep him just as close as they were before the other became uncomfortable. When Rung looks away, he lifts a hand, to tilt his head back up, plant a kiss.

"And what happens when you can't use that?" Like with the bugs. Especially with the bugs.

"Safe isn't something Decepticons get." Especially him, when there were games involving beating the scrap out of him... And he'd much rather be there to help Rung get out of a bad situation.

There's hesitation there but Rung doesn't try to pull away anymore, glancing at Dead End with a sad sort of look in his optics. He knows how this all sounds and he doesn't want the other to think he'd ever, ever do that sort of thing to him.

Rung had only done that sort of thing once in his life and he regretted it every day.

The kiss catches him by surprise though he's not objecting, engine revving lightly as more of the tension seeps from him and he leans up and in to press their foreheads together.

"Then I find an alternative method," he murmured, shrugging slightly. "I just..safe isn't something any Cybertronians get but that doesn't mean I can't hope for it, especially for you."

For all Dead End knows about Rung he doesn't believe the other would try and manipulate him. The way he's actin now doesn't seem like the kind of bot that would do so just because, and kissing him seemed pointless if Rung were just trying to manipulate him. There was no reason - at least to him - for the other to kiss him unless he were being honest. He trusts the therapist, bad luck be fragged.

His engine purrs when Run returns the contact, pleased that at least the other isn't uncomfortable enough to make him pull away completely.

"I'm fine," he insists. "I don't want you getting mauled by creatures again... Ones you can't manipulate."

"I'll do my best to avoid massive creatures that can crush me without trying, alright?" the therapist murmured finally, settling into Dead End's embrace a bit more as he relaxed against the other. He leaned up slightly to press a kiss to the cables of the other's neck, hesitating before nipping lightly.

Just..just because.

"Promise me that you'll do your best to keep safe as well though. I just...I don't want..." He can't stand to see you hurt, Dead End. It breaks his spark.

"No going out without someone armed when this place is under attack." It's a simple request, he thinks. If Rung hadn't gone out to get him chances were he wouldn't have gotten hurt at all. That whenever this was fixed - if it was - the other would have gone without a single injury. If he gets hurt again during something like whatever was going on, he'd have to make sure Rung didn't find out unless he was smart or lucky enough to plan before it.

The kiss followed by the nip get a pleased hum out of the Decepticon, Dead End tilting his head slightly to allow Rung to do as he wished. His engine revs loudly and it's moments like this that he's glad the place is empty, or this would get embarrassing fast. In return his fingers dig into the therapist's back, sliding over seams and paneling, and into any gaps he can find. It's hard to argue when Rung's doing things that feel so great.

Fragging turn ons.

"I- Most days I don't even leave my room." He's fine until someone breaks down the wall and tramples him to death with spiked feet. Or someone just waiting for a day where he leaves his room.

"Alright.." Rung agreed though his voice was a bit static-y, the touches to his back making it hard to think. He leaned in and continued to trail gentle nips down the cables of Dead End's neck, soothing each one with a kiss. The conversation at hand was slowly becoming the last thing on his mind, skilled fingers caressing the back of the Con's neck, trailing around and along down towards his shoulder.

It was a really good thing that they were alone, the answering purr from Rung's engine as he shifted closer out of instinct, lifting his head just a bit to nip alon thr others jaw.

He felt better now--more at ease now that he knew Dead End wasn't going to push him away for being, well, who he was, and it was making it easier for him to just forget his worries and go after what he wanted.

Made clear by the way he kissed the other without hesitation, hand curling against the back of his neck to draw him close.

"Good," Dead End continues to hum, fingers continuing their delicate work at pressing into gaps and against seams. Although the work Rung's doing is capturing most of his attention, causing the occasional shudder to run through his frame.

He shouldn't be doing this, allowing Rung to do this. The therapist still hadn't taken a night to decide fully if this was truly what he wanted. Yes, it may have been clear what his choice would be, allowing the other some time to finalize his choice was something he wanted to happen. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to stop this. He couldn't say that maybe they were going a bit far with this, when the decision wasn't final. Rung wasn't drunk, so why should he care about how far this ends up going?

He should. He should.

The kiss doesn't help this inner turmoil - or rather lack thereof - and the Decepticon is quick to return it, engine rumbling and revving.

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