Flash Fiction Fills (Take 29) Final Part
Mar. 18th, 2012 04:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: At last, the final flash fiction for your reading pleasure. It took me the longest since I was unfamiliar with writing most of the characters. I tend to fret when writing new characters. :)
Beware the grammatical errors! I never bother to get the flash fics beta'ed.
For camfield
Prompt: G1, Blaster/Soundwave, the kids are at it again
Fandom: Transformers G1. Warnings: mechslash, pnp, probably OOC
a/n: And that's the last of them. Got some more updates to come this month. The last couple pieces of Seireitei Monogatari, some more chapters of Event Horizon, and some more oneshots.
Hope you enjoyed!
Beware the grammatical errors! I never bother to get the flash fics beta'ed.
For camfield
Prompt: G1, Blaster/Soundwave, the kids are at it again
Fandom: Transformers G1. Warnings: mechslash, pnp, probably OOC
Between the two of them, they have ten cassettes. If one wants to be technical about it, that equates to ten children, a third of them equivalent to human teenagers.
Quiet time, in other words, does not exist. Nor does private time. Or interfacing time. A fact which Blaster much laments. He likes interfacing. He especially likes interfacing Soundwave.
The children do not make this easy.
Not the eldest, Ravage, who creeps around with all the silence of his alt-mode's namesake. He likes to crawl around the vents, sneak into places he shouldn't be, just to prove he can.
Not their second eldest, the twins Eject and Rewind who can be found at all hours playing the television as loud as possible, having soaked up human entertainment as though they were kremzeeks.
Not their third eldest, the twins Frenzy and Rumble, who share obvious delight in testing each other for weaknesses. It looks like down and out brawling, but of course Blaster and Soundwave know to call it sparring. Prowl and Red Alert, however, do not approve.
Steeljaw doesn't have Ravage's tendency to be sneaky, instead, he likes to be obvious about it. Jumping out, startling innocent bots taking a stroll around the city. And the fact that he can, more often than not, encourage Ramhorn to give him a paw makes for two mischievous cassettes that the night patrol often drag back to Blaster by the scruff.
Laserbeak and Buzzsaw are the best behaved of the bunch. Save for Buzzsaw's tendency to leave energon dustlets around everywhere and Laserbeak's strange inclination, as of late, to build a nest wherever she slag well pleases.
Ratbat is spoiled. As the youngest, he is completely and utterly spoiled by Soundwave much to Blaster's consternation. Spoiling has led to clinging so it's a rare day indeed when Blaster can drag his partner away from their children for some special, alone time.
Like today. Right now as a matter of fact. They've hired a babysitter, or what approximates one considering the dearth of available bots around, and sent out the elder cassettes on “official duties.” In other words, here's a cred, go see a movie or something. Just begone!
Now here they are. Alone. Blaster stares at Soundwave, who's staring back at him, expression as inscrutable as ever. And well... it's awkward. Blaster's feeling twitchy. His sensors responding on a hair-trigger, anticipating another embarrassing ping from Red Alert about their wayward children, or just waiting for the ball to drop.
“Solitude achieved,” Soundwave says, a hint of impatience in his vocals.
Blaster gives his mech a surly look. “I'm aware of that.” His HUD pings him, a reminder that he hasn't had sufficient recharge since, well, forever. Blaster pretty much ignores those warnings on automatic anymore. “On to the berth with ya then.”
Soundwave makes a pretty good approximation of a snort, amusement hiding behind it, and hitches himself up onto their overlarge berth. There's a twinkle of mischief in his visor and Blaster watches his mech warily. Just what is the sneaky bot up to?
Blaster climbs onto the berth beside his partner, feeling a fatigue in his struts that makes him feel about Kup's age and not a millennium younger. He ventilates loudly, the berth feeling so fragging comfortable. He settles next to Soundwave, both of them propped up against the wall and each other, and unspools a cable, offering it to his partner.
“This is what we've been reduced ta,” Blaster remarks dryly. “No romance. No passion. Just quick 'nd dirty so we can get to th' good stuff.”
Soundwave chuckles in that staticky way of his that used to be creepy. “Query: good stuff?” he repeats, taking Blaster's cable and offering his own.
“Energon and recharge,” Blaster replies, deadpan, and seamlessly plugs Soundwave into his port, feeling the very moment his partner does the same.
It speaks of their lengthy commitment how easily their systems sync together, the slow idle stream of transmitted sensation coming across within a moment. Blaster's cooling fans kick on with a quiet whirr and he relaxes, plating loosening as the familiar opening chords of their interface trickle through him.
Soundwave, he notices, is as tired as himself. Both of them are strapped for recharge and defrag time along with everything else.
“Multiple cassettes: Blaster's idea,” Soundwave points out as he throws an arm over Blaster's shoulder, tugging the red mech into his embrace.
Blaster lightly slaps Soundwave's thigh. “Sure. Blame it on me now. You were the one goading me in the first place.” A shudder creeps down his backstrut as stronger pulses of pleasure filter through their connection. Mmm, that's nice.
A loud crash from the next room over startles Blaster so badly he almost jerks Soundwave's cable out of his port which would have been very uncomfortable. “What the frag?”
“Cassettes to blame?”
Blaster sighs, reluctantly disconnecting them. “Got no choice but ta find out.” He doesn't miss the spike of irritation in his partner's field.
Together, they leave their shared quarters, the door swishing open with an imagined hiss of annoyance. Down the hallway is a raucous riot of noise that blasts over their audials. Blaster distinctly hears Frenzy and Eject and someone else, someone like--
“Jazz!”
So much for their babysitter. And the saboteur doesn't look the least bit chagrined at all.
No more quiet time tonight. Fraggit.
Quiet time, in other words, does not exist. Nor does private time. Or interfacing time. A fact which Blaster much laments. He likes interfacing. He especially likes interfacing Soundwave.
The children do not make this easy.
Not the eldest, Ravage, who creeps around with all the silence of his alt-mode's namesake. He likes to crawl around the vents, sneak into places he shouldn't be, just to prove he can.
Not their second eldest, the twins Eject and Rewind who can be found at all hours playing the television as loud as possible, having soaked up human entertainment as though they were kremzeeks.
Not their third eldest, the twins Frenzy and Rumble, who share obvious delight in testing each other for weaknesses. It looks like down and out brawling, but of course Blaster and Soundwave know to call it sparring. Prowl and Red Alert, however, do not approve.
Steeljaw doesn't have Ravage's tendency to be sneaky, instead, he likes to be obvious about it. Jumping out, startling innocent bots taking a stroll around the city. And the fact that he can, more often than not, encourage Ramhorn to give him a paw makes for two mischievous cassettes that the night patrol often drag back to Blaster by the scruff.
Laserbeak and Buzzsaw are the best behaved of the bunch. Save for Buzzsaw's tendency to leave energon dustlets around everywhere and Laserbeak's strange inclination, as of late, to build a nest wherever she slag well pleases.
Ratbat is spoiled. As the youngest, he is completely and utterly spoiled by Soundwave much to Blaster's consternation. Spoiling has led to clinging so it's a rare day indeed when Blaster can drag his partner away from their children for some special, alone time.
Like today. Right now as a matter of fact. They've hired a babysitter, or what approximates one considering the dearth of available bots around, and sent out the elder cassettes on “official duties.” In other words, here's a cred, go see a movie or something. Just begone!
Now here they are. Alone. Blaster stares at Soundwave, who's staring back at him, expression as inscrutable as ever. And well... it's awkward. Blaster's feeling twitchy. His sensors responding on a hair-trigger, anticipating another embarrassing ping from Red Alert about their wayward children, or just waiting for the ball to drop.
“Solitude achieved,” Soundwave says, a hint of impatience in his vocals.
Blaster gives his mech a surly look. “I'm aware of that.” His HUD pings him, a reminder that he hasn't had sufficient recharge since, well, forever. Blaster pretty much ignores those warnings on automatic anymore. “On to the berth with ya then.”
Soundwave makes a pretty good approximation of a snort, amusement hiding behind it, and hitches himself up onto their overlarge berth. There's a twinkle of mischief in his visor and Blaster watches his mech warily. Just what is the sneaky bot up to?
Blaster climbs onto the berth beside his partner, feeling a fatigue in his struts that makes him feel about Kup's age and not a millennium younger. He ventilates loudly, the berth feeling so fragging comfortable. He settles next to Soundwave, both of them propped up against the wall and each other, and unspools a cable, offering it to his partner.
“This is what we've been reduced ta,” Blaster remarks dryly. “No romance. No passion. Just quick 'nd dirty so we can get to th' good stuff.”
Soundwave chuckles in that staticky way of his that used to be creepy. “Query: good stuff?” he repeats, taking Blaster's cable and offering his own.
“Energon and recharge,” Blaster replies, deadpan, and seamlessly plugs Soundwave into his port, feeling the very moment his partner does the same.
It speaks of their lengthy commitment how easily their systems sync together, the slow idle stream of transmitted sensation coming across within a moment. Blaster's cooling fans kick on with a quiet whirr and he relaxes, plating loosening as the familiar opening chords of their interface trickle through him.
Soundwave, he notices, is as tired as himself. Both of them are strapped for recharge and defrag time along with everything else.
“Multiple cassettes: Blaster's idea,” Soundwave points out as he throws an arm over Blaster's shoulder, tugging the red mech into his embrace.
Blaster lightly slaps Soundwave's thigh. “Sure. Blame it on me now. You were the one goading me in the first place.” A shudder creeps down his backstrut as stronger pulses of pleasure filter through their connection. Mmm, that's nice.
A loud crash from the next room over startles Blaster so badly he almost jerks Soundwave's cable out of his port which would have been very uncomfortable. “What the frag?”
“Cassettes to blame?”
Blaster sighs, reluctantly disconnecting them. “Got no choice but ta find out.” He doesn't miss the spike of irritation in his partner's field.
Together, they leave their shared quarters, the door swishing open with an imagined hiss of annoyance. Down the hallway is a raucous riot of noise that blasts over their audials. Blaster distinctly hears Frenzy and Eject and someone else, someone like--
“Jazz!”
So much for their babysitter. And the saboteur doesn't look the least bit chagrined at all.
No more quiet time tonight. Fraggit.
a/n: And that's the last of them. Got some more updates to come this month. The last couple pieces of Seireitei Monogatari, some more chapters of Event Horizon, and some more oneshots.
Hope you enjoyed!
