Flash Fiction Fills (Take 32) Final
Jun. 22nd, 2012 03:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: And today I bring the last of the flash fiction to you. Huzzah!
I , uh, have no experience writing Spike or Raoul so I winged it. Still, I hope you enjoy.
For camfield
Prompt: Spike/Raoul, “you are the worst gay man ever”
Fandom: Transformers G1. Warnings: None.
a/n: Flash Fiction Friday returns on June 29th! Mark that on your calendar.
More ficcage to come. I just have to write it.
I , uh, have no experience writing Spike or Raoul so I winged it. Still, I hope you enjoy.
For camfield
Prompt: Spike/Raoul, “you are the worst gay man ever”
Fandom: Transformers G1. Warnings: None.
“How would I know if I'm gay?”
Cola suddenly splatters the tabletop. Wow. That's the first time Spike's ever seen a real spit-take. He didn't think it actually happened outside of the movies.
Raoul wipes his mouth, glaring at Spike. “What?” he demands with a throat-clearing cough.”How the hell should I know?”
Spike gives him a long look, arching an eyebrow. “Don't you have gaydar or something?”
Oh, look. There goes more cola.
“Gaydar!” Raoul splutters. And the tips of his ears turn red. It's kinda cute.
Spike leans his chin on his palm, staring at the other teen. “What kind of gay man are you if you don't know what gaydar is?”
“Gay!” Raoul starts choking on what appears to be both his cola and his own breath.
He coughs, one hand waving indignantly through the air as he sets his cola bottle on the table.
“I'm not!” Raoul manages with another glare, though watery-eyed this time. “I'm not... Chicas, Spike, chicas! I like them. Why would you...?” He shakes his head, coughs a few more times.
Spike shrugs, more than a little amused by Raoul's over the top reaction. “Everyone thinks it.” Everyone, of course, meaning the Autobots because right now, they are the entire extent of Spike's social circle including Chip and Carly and of course, Raoul. “You and Tracks--”
“--are friends!” Raoul yells, voice reaching an unfortunate pitch as his hands flap through the air. “Just friends!”
To paraphrase Shakespeare, the gentleman doth protest too much.
“Besides!” Raoul continues, pointing a firm, defiant finger at Spike. “You got no room to talk, amigo. Tracks has told me all about you and the Volkswagen.”
He gives the other teen a long look. “That would be another case of just friends, Raoul. Besides, he's a 'bot and I'm human. Would never work.”
Raoul snorts, grabs his cola and takes a long swallow of it, managing not to lose any this time. “Yeah, tell that to Astoria.”
Spike grins. “Poor Powerglide.”
“Don't feel sorry for him, amigo. What I hear? He likes the attention.”
Both teens chuckle at that. Powerglide really is a mech after attention, big old drama flier that he is. But then the laughter trails off and Spike's reminded of the reason he sought out Raoul for this little one-on-one conversation.
“Seriously, Spike,” Raoul says, leaning on the table. “What makes you come out and ask me a weird question like that?”
He shrugs, feeling his ears burn on the tips. “Just wondering.”
“You ever kissed a dude?”
Spike sinks in his chair. “No.”
“Thought about kissing a dude?”
He sinks even further, mumbling a soft, “No.”
Raoul shakes his head and sits back, “Then if you are gay, you are the worst gay man ever. Chill, amigo. Looks like it's still the chicas for you.”
Now nearly hidden beneath the table, Spike manages a smile. Good to know he's not gay, but what that says about his attraction to Jazz?
Cola suddenly splatters the tabletop. Wow. That's the first time Spike's ever seen a real spit-take. He didn't think it actually happened outside of the movies.
Raoul wipes his mouth, glaring at Spike. “What?” he demands with a throat-clearing cough.”How the hell should I know?”
Spike gives him a long look, arching an eyebrow. “Don't you have gaydar or something?”
Oh, look. There goes more cola.
“Gaydar!” Raoul splutters. And the tips of his ears turn red. It's kinda cute.
Spike leans his chin on his palm, staring at the other teen. “What kind of gay man are you if you don't know what gaydar is?”
“Gay!” Raoul starts choking on what appears to be both his cola and his own breath.
He coughs, one hand waving indignantly through the air as he sets his cola bottle on the table.
“I'm not!” Raoul manages with another glare, though watery-eyed this time. “I'm not... Chicas, Spike, chicas! I like them. Why would you...?” He shakes his head, coughs a few more times.
Spike shrugs, more than a little amused by Raoul's over the top reaction. “Everyone thinks it.” Everyone, of course, meaning the Autobots because right now, they are the entire extent of Spike's social circle including Chip and Carly and of course, Raoul. “You and Tracks--”
“--are friends!” Raoul yells, voice reaching an unfortunate pitch as his hands flap through the air. “Just friends!”
To paraphrase Shakespeare, the gentleman doth protest too much.
“Besides!” Raoul continues, pointing a firm, defiant finger at Spike. “You got no room to talk, amigo. Tracks has told me all about you and the Volkswagen.”
He gives the other teen a long look. “That would be another case of just friends, Raoul. Besides, he's a 'bot and I'm human. Would never work.”
Raoul snorts, grabs his cola and takes a long swallow of it, managing not to lose any this time. “Yeah, tell that to Astoria.”
Spike grins. “Poor Powerglide.”
“Don't feel sorry for him, amigo. What I hear? He likes the attention.”
Both teens chuckle at that. Powerglide really is a mech after attention, big old drama flier that he is. But then the laughter trails off and Spike's reminded of the reason he sought out Raoul for this little one-on-one conversation.
“Seriously, Spike,” Raoul says, leaning on the table. “What makes you come out and ask me a weird question like that?”
He shrugs, feeling his ears burn on the tips. “Just wondering.”
“You ever kissed a dude?”
Spike sinks in his chair. “No.”
“Thought about kissing a dude?”
He sinks even further, mumbling a soft, “No.”
Raoul shakes his head and sits back, “Then if you are gay, you are the worst gay man ever. Chill, amigo. Looks like it's still the chicas for you.”
Now nearly hidden beneath the table, Spike manages a smile. Good to know he's not gay, but what that says about his attraction to Jazz?
a/n: Flash Fiction Friday returns on June 29th! Mark that on your calendar.
More ficcage to come. I just have to write it.
