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The evening air was warm as Raoul sat on the bonnet of the car. His eyes were closed, his head leaned back to bask in the last rays of the sun. Music quietly played over the radio, the man tapping his finger along to the beat.“Man.” He sighed. “I’m going to miss summer.”“It comes every year, Raoul.” Tracks replied. “It will come round again soon.”“Easy for you to say - you’ve got a /lot more summers left in you than I do.”“Well, then. Let’s make this one worth having.” A door popped open in invitation. Raoul slipped into the seat and relaxed back against the leather, grinning widely.
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It was embarrassingly easy to keep him happy.Onslaught knew this. He knew this, and he exploited it.A hand on his back there, a sprinkle of praise here - it was all it really took. Blast Off hid it on his expression well, but he would feel flashes of his delight in his field before he tugged it in tightly. It was all it took to keep him in line, to have him fill the role of a goodsoldier.What he didn’t know was how much he needed it too. His optics constantly cast to the skies to find him, (im)patiently waiting for him to come back.
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The moments where they could pretend everything was normal were precious ones. Prowls radio crackled loudly on his desk, signalling the beginning of a broadcast. He slipped effortlessly into his chair and settled in to listen.A quick witted presenter opened up the show and his tanks tied in knots as he waited for the song to start. Jazz had been so excited about it. Would he like that he’d listened? Would he find it weird?He offlined his optics and rested his chin in the palm of his hands, and pretended that he was the only one listening.
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She knew that she shouldn’t, that she couldn’t, but she did. She quietly watched him work as she sipped on her water, perched neatly on a step on the stage. Her manager would flip his lid if he knew, if he caught wind of it, so she couldn’t linger on him for too long.Soundwave didn’t come by often, tightly wrapped up in his work on a mech base, but when he did, how she saw the world would briefly change for the time that he was in her orbit. The marks on her neck briefly flared and she pulled the neck of her top up a bit higher.
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For a mech relegated to having two pedes firmly planted on the ground, he had the worst taste. The kind that wouldn’t even give mechs like him a second glance.He’d see a flash of blue and his spark would be up firmly in his throat, unable to tear his optics away but not wanting to be caught looking. Instead, he’d settled for watching when the mech was up in the sky, in his natural habitat. Everyone said that Starscream was their best flier, but Brawl didn’t think so. He thought it was Thundercracker.He raised his hand to the sky, and caught him between his index and middle finger like taking a snapshot.“What’re you doing?” Vortex asked, looking up with him.“Catching the planes. It’s lucky.”
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The wound on his chest was long gone and all traces of it healed, but he still felt the ache of it. Every time he saw him, every time he heard him, every time he read his name, it was the same. The sharp pang would rip the air from him and he would have to take a moment to balance himself again, to focus on the task ahead of them.It was worse when he knew he needed him. When he knew that he’d be able to do it if he was there with him by his side.
I’m done saving you.
He wasn’t coming back.
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It was too late to do anything about it by the time he’d noticed how smitten he was with the minibot except be swept away by it all.Gone were the days of grumpily plotting exactly how he’d be shoving him into an escape pod and jettisoning him into space. No, now he had company as he stood broodily by windows. It was hard to hate him but it was oh so easy to love him, what with the way he pressed himself against the glass, excitedly pointing out the stars to him, asking him questions about them.He’d existed for millions of years, and he would exist for millions more, but he couldn’t ever imagine a life without him now.