[G1] Conversational Incentive
Oct. 14th, 2014 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Tracks is one of my secondary favorite characters and I just don't write him enough. :)
This was written for the tf-rare-pairing Trick or Treat challenge. It's short and sweet. And self-beta'd.
Title: Conversational Incentive
Universe: G1
Characters: BlasterxTracks
Rating: PG
Warnings: None really
Description: Tracks is on duty. Blaster just called to say hello.
For the prompt "Tracks/Blaster, G1 or IDW, speaking in tongues, trick or treat"
“Busy, my love?”
The purr spills into his private line, stirring Tracks from the monotony of third-shift monitor duty. That it first comes across as French, his processor automatically translating, makes it all the more enticing.
“For you? Never,” Tracks responds in kind, careful to conceal his pleased smile from the others sharing his shift.
Blaster's amused chuckle bubbles over the line, stirring Tracks' spark. “Red Alert's not on shift, I take it?” he asks, this time in English.
“No, my dear. It's Jazz.” Tracks bites back his own laugh. The game of pet names has become a running joke between them.
“Good,” Blaster purrs, once again in French.
Realization slowly dawns. Tracks lips curl. Ah, so it's to be one of those conversations.
He shifts in his chair. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Just a chat.” Blaster's vocals are warm, like spiced energon, and the language is Raoul's, a delicate caress to Tracks' finely tuned audials. “I know you're bored. I thought I'd call, give you something better to focus on.”
Tracks cycles a ventilation, steals a glance around the command center, but no one's paying him a whit of attention. Yet.
“I am on duty,” he reminds his mischievous lover. Not that it's stopped Blaster before.
“I know. Isn't that half the thrill of it?”
“Not if it gets me brig time.”
Blaster hums across the line. “I'll make it worth your while,” he murmurs, words laced with promise, glossa rolling at him in the language of love.
Tracks shivers. He stares at the monitors. He tries to focus but all he can see are blurs. He's thinking of the last time Blaster pinned him to berth, inciting him to overload by words alone, purring over his spark, every sound vibration stirring him higher and higher.
“You always do,” he replies belatedly, perhaps more delayed than is socially acceptable for a conversation.
His field flares in remembrance before Tracks can rein it in. The images now, are brighter, sharper, more engaging. He shifts in the chair, it creaking beneath him, but all he can picture is the wicked promise no doubt in Blaster's optics.
Thank Primus Jazz is the one on shift. It'll make it only slightly less embarrassing when Tracks completely loses control.
“I thought so,” Blaster says, far too smug, and then, because he's as mischievous as he is tempting, he adds, “What are you wearing, sweetheart?” and Tracks can't decide if he's going to laugh or wheeze out a ventilation.
He ends up doing both, prompting Jazz to ask if he's all right and Tracks to offer a reassurance that's anything but.
“My shift ends in two hours,” Tracks tartly informs his lover, amusement warring with the arousal Blaster has stirred in him. “You will pay for that.”
“Promises, promises, dear spark,” Blaster sings, smug, before he disconnects the private line, leaving Tracks with a heated spark, rising charge, and boring monitors.
Fortunately, Tracks has two hours to think of a suitable punishment. One they will both enjoy very, very much.
***
a/n: Back to work on the flash fiction I go. I just read this prompt, got the idea, and had to scribble it down. :D
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
Oh. And if anyone wants to toss some fic recs my way, that would be awesome. I've been desperate for something new to read and can't find anything so keep reading my favorites over and over and over... I'm not picky! I'll pretty much read anything (except ProwlxJazz and MegaStar. No offense. I just kind of find it boring).
This was written for the tf-rare-pairing Trick or Treat challenge. It's short and sweet. And self-beta'd.
Title: Conversational Incentive
Universe: G1
Characters: BlasterxTracks
Rating: PG
Warnings: None really
Description: Tracks is on duty. Blaster just called to say hello.
For the prompt "Tracks/Blaster, G1 or IDW, speaking in tongues, trick or treat"
“Busy, my love?”
The purr spills into his private line, stirring Tracks from the monotony of third-shift monitor duty. That it first comes across as French, his processor automatically translating, makes it all the more enticing.
“For you? Never,” Tracks responds in kind, careful to conceal his pleased smile from the others sharing his shift.
Blaster's amused chuckle bubbles over the line, stirring Tracks' spark. “Red Alert's not on shift, I take it?” he asks, this time in English.
“No, my dear. It's Jazz.” Tracks bites back his own laugh. The game of pet names has become a running joke between them.
“Good,” Blaster purrs, once again in French.
Realization slowly dawns. Tracks lips curl. Ah, so it's to be one of those conversations.
He shifts in his chair. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Just a chat.” Blaster's vocals are warm, like spiced energon, and the language is Raoul's, a delicate caress to Tracks' finely tuned audials. “I know you're bored. I thought I'd call, give you something better to focus on.”
Tracks cycles a ventilation, steals a glance around the command center, but no one's paying him a whit of attention. Yet.
“I am on duty,” he reminds his mischievous lover. Not that it's stopped Blaster before.
“I know. Isn't that half the thrill of it?”
“Not if it gets me brig time.”
Blaster hums across the line. “I'll make it worth your while,” he murmurs, words laced with promise, glossa rolling at him in the language of love.
Tracks shivers. He stares at the monitors. He tries to focus but all he can see are blurs. He's thinking of the last time Blaster pinned him to berth, inciting him to overload by words alone, purring over his spark, every sound vibration stirring him higher and higher.
“You always do,” he replies belatedly, perhaps more delayed than is socially acceptable for a conversation.
His field flares in remembrance before Tracks can rein it in. The images now, are brighter, sharper, more engaging. He shifts in the chair, it creaking beneath him, but all he can picture is the wicked promise no doubt in Blaster's optics.
Thank Primus Jazz is the one on shift. It'll make it only slightly less embarrassing when Tracks completely loses control.
“I thought so,” Blaster says, far too smug, and then, because he's as mischievous as he is tempting, he adds, “What are you wearing, sweetheart?” and Tracks can't decide if he's going to laugh or wheeze out a ventilation.
He ends up doing both, prompting Jazz to ask if he's all right and Tracks to offer a reassurance that's anything but.
“My shift ends in two hours,” Tracks tartly informs his lover, amusement warring with the arousal Blaster has stirred in him. “You will pay for that.”
“Promises, promises, dear spark,” Blaster sings, smug, before he disconnects the private line, leaving Tracks with a heated spark, rising charge, and boring monitors.
Fortunately, Tracks has two hours to think of a suitable punishment. One they will both enjoy very, very much.
a/n: Back to work on the flash fiction I go. I just read this prompt, got the idea, and had to scribble it down. :D
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
Oh. And if anyone wants to toss some fic recs my way, that would be awesome. I've been desperate for something new to read and can't find anything so keep reading my favorites over and over and over... I'm not picky! I'll pretty much read anything (except ProwlxJazz and MegaStar. No offense. I just kind of find it boring).
