re_alignment_logs | (no subject)

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?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.