[G1] Misconstruction - Part Four
Feb. 16th, 2016 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: This is written for fuzipenguin in honor of her birthday! Happy Birthday, my friend! I hope you have a good day, full of lots of good things, and I know this is early, but I wanted to make sure I got it out in time. :) Thank you for being the awesome person you are. <3
Characters: Sideswipe, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Skyfire
Rated: K+
Description: In which Skyfire is flummoxed, Ratchet is exasperated, Sunstreaker tries, and Sideswipe gets flustered.
They warned him.
Sunstreaker thanked him.
Sideswipe apologized.
Skyfire considered that to be the end. Things would go back to normal. He'd continue to keep his distance, but he would no longer feel obligated to leave the common room if the Twins entered it. Maybe they might even be friends as well as comrades.
Skyfire was happy to move on and put the whole thing behind him.
And then the gifts started appearing on his doorstep. They were little things at first: new datapads, small gadgets, boxes of energon goodies, tiny vials of flavored energon, tins of scented wax…
But every day, it was something new.
It was utterly baffling.
Especially since he knew they came from Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He had already forgiven them, there was no need for gifts. And yet, Skyfire was being inundated with them on a daily basis. He'd tried telling them that it wasn't necessary, but Sunstreaker started fleeing when Skyfire came near, and Sideswipe redirected the conversation with such skill that Skyfire was surprised he wasn't in Special Ops.
Without any answers, Skyfire resorted to a back-up plan.
He went to the medbay in search of Ratchet, who sighed and pinched his chevron when he saw Skyfire coming.
“What've those two idiots done now?” he asked with the air of an exhausted genitor.
Despite the situation, Skyfire found himself grinning. “I take it this is a common occurrence.”
“Not as often as you'd think, but I know that look in your optics.” Ratchet waved a hand toward him, gesturing for Skyfire to follow him. “What did they do?”
“It's nothing bad,” Skyfire rushed to reassure, almost as though he feared Ratchet was already coming up with ways to punish the Twins. “I'm just… confused.”
They stepped into Ratchet's office, and he closed the door behind them. Skyfire turned in a circle, finally selecting a stool that looked as though it might support his weight. Ratchet flopped down on the ratty-looking couch, exhaustion evident in the pinch of his expression.
“Confused why?” he asked.
Skyfire rubbed his palms down his thighs. “Well,” he said. “They're giving me gifts, and I don't understand why. I've already accepted their apology. When I try to speak with them about it, I get the runaround.”
Ratchet loudly cycled a ventilation and palmed his faceplate. “Those idiots,” he muttered, perhaps to himself, and looked over his hand at Skyfire. “It looks like you have a couple of admirers.”
Skyfire's fans stalled. “I… beg pardon?” He couldn't be more bewildered if he tried.
It was impossible. How could they go from loathing Skyfire and threatening to dismantle him, to all of the sudden wanting to give him gifts? They were as mercurial as Starscream, and that was not a compliment.
“You heard me,” Ratchet said with a sideways look. “Because it's either that, or they think you're still in need of apologies. I'm more inclined to believe the former.”
Skyfire worked his jaw. “Ratchet, I don't understand.”
“I know you don't.” Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose, his field flicking with the air of someone long-suffering. “It's because they are idiots who don't know the first thing about interacting with normal mechs, especially normal mechs who spent most of the war away from the war.”
Skyfire rebooted his vocalizer. “You're telling me,” he began slowly. “That I am receiving gifts from them because they have an… an infatuation with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don't they just say so?” Skyfire demanded, exasperated. His wings flicked upward.
“Probably cause they don't know how.” Ratchet shrugged, but it was far from dismissive. “They don't know the words, don't know how you'd take it. Probably aren't even sure themselves what they want.”
“I never thought they'd hesitate about anything,” Skyfire murmured.
“Not in battle, no.” Ratchet shifted his weight, his frame creaking with fatigue as he did so. “Battle, they understand. It's training. It's instinct. It's all they've ever known. Social interaction, well, that's a different story. Sideswipe understands better than Sunstreaker, but that's not saying much.”
Skyfire mulled on that, only to be struck with a sudden concern. “They're not… untouched are they?”
Ratchet stared at him for a moment before he laughed and grinned. “No. Certainly not. They've berthhopped as much as I have. Casual encounters are easy. There are no expectations.”
Skyfire's face heated. He knew Ratchet had to see it. He twisted his fingers together. “Then…?”
“They want something different from you,” Ratchet said with a nod. “And they're coming from a curious place of having insulted you previously. So they are doing the best they can with what they have.”
“I… see.” Skyfire settled into his stool, his thoughts a whirl.
Ratchet swept a hand over his helm. “I suppose the question you really need to be asking is whether or not you want them to stop.”
Skyfire's wings twitched. “I have to admit that I'm flattered.” He gave Ratchet a sideways look, his face heating further. “They are both very attractive.”
Ratchet chuckled. “That they are. But also complicated.” He paused and gave Skyfire a long look in return. “If you are interested, than say so. If not, say that as well. They won't figure it out on their own.”
Skyfire rapped his fingers on his thighs. “This is unexpected.”
“Tell me about it.” Ratchet barked a laugh.
“How is it that you understand them so well anyway?” Skyfire asked, desperate to change the subject by degrees, if only to give his processor something else to focus on.
“I've put those two scrapheap rejects back together more times than I can count. Somewhere along the way, they decided to trust me.” Ratchet waved a dismissive hand and pushed to his pedes, rubbing at the base of his spinal strut. “Now, I've got to get back to work and you--”
“--have some thinking to do,” Skyfire finished for him, also rising. His wings rose higher on his back. “Thank you, Ratchet. For the advice.”
Ratchet's lips curved. “Thank me after you've figured out what to do with those two pitspawn.”
~
Skyfire mulled it over for days. He avoided the Twins as surely as they avoided him, preferring instead to decide for himself what he wanted before he confronted them. It was complicated indeed, and Skyfire never expected to find himself in this position.
Even before he and the Twins had their little tiff, Skyfire had been something of persona non grata when it came to relationships around the Ark. He supposed it was the taint of Starscream he carried around with him like a hulking combiner in the corner. Or perhaps he couldn't blame Starscream. Perhaps he simply wasn't interesting or attractive or untrustworthy. There were dozens of potential factors.
Maybe he just preferred to have Starscream to blame rather than the blow to the ego that was considering himself undesirable.
Either way, Skyfire was surprised to find anyone, particularly two someones, especially the Twins, to have anything like a genuine interest in him. He was beyond flattered. He had to admit, also, he was curious. Intrigued.
Tempted.
Though he was not yet certain what he wished to do about it.
Which was, of course, when Skyfire heard scratching at his door.
That’s it. This time, he intended to catch them in the act.
Skyfire leapt up off his berth, and vaulted across the floor, slamming his palm onto the access panel so hard it spat up sparks. The door, as if obedient to his haste, sprang open as though it hadn’t just been demanding oil this morning.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked up at him, like two deer caught in headlights, Sideswipe in the middle of setting yet another wrapped package on the ground as Sunstreaker’s hand hung mid-air, something magnetic dangling from his fingers.
Sunstreaker blinked.
Sideswipe coughed. “Oh, uh, good morning!” he said brightly. “We were just–”
“Leaving me yet another inexplicable gift?” Skyfire asked mildly, one orbital ridge crawling upward.
Sunstreaker’s hand continued to linger, as though he’d forgotten how to move. “…. yes?”
It sounded more like a question.
Primus save them.
Skyfire resisted the urge to facepalm. And also, he owed Ratchet a vintage bottle of high grade. Because damn it, the medic was right. They were both of them clueless.
“Has it ever occurred to either of you that a simpler, cheaper, and more productive solution would be to, I don't know, talk to me?” Skyfire asked, his gaze skittering from one twin to the other.
Sideswipe blinked. Sunstreaker finally lowered his hand, tucking whatever object he carried into a loose fist.
“Talk… to you?” Sunstreaker repeated, as though he suddenly didn't understand what words meant and needed clarification.
Sideswipe sighed and straightened, still clutching the glitter-bedazzled gift as though it were a lifeline. “See, the thing is, we figured you wouldn't want to talk to us. So we thought--”
“--that you would spend the next few millennia sending me anonymous gifts?” Skyfire finished for him, and he couldn't help it. His lips twitched. Amusement made his wings flutter.
“I thought it was nice,” Sunstreaker mumbled. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking about as dangerous as a sparkling who'd been caught nicking energon candies.
“Yes.” Sideswipe nodded firmly. “That and we figured, well, the gifts couldn’t hurt our chances.” With that, he thrust the bedecked box toward Skyfire again.
He took it because he couldn't think of a reason not to, the box surprisingly heavy in comparison to the other presents that had been left for him.
“Thank you,” Skyfire replied. He had to admit that he was touched by the gifts, by their kindness, though it still baffled him. “I appreciate the gifts. Honestly. But you don't have to keep bringing them.”
Sunstreaker, of all things, looked crestfallen. “You don't like them?”
“I do,” Skyfire was quick to say, and even found himself leaning forward, as though trying to soothe a sparkling. He tilted back on his heelstruts. “I do. I only meant that they are not necessary. As I said, talking to me is a better alternative. Perhaps you might even consider inviting me to go somewhere with you.”
Sunstreaker blinked. “Like a date?”
“You'd actually agree to one?” Sideswipe added.
They had a curious way of completing one another's thoughts but not one another's sentences. From a scientific perspective, it was fascinating. But Skyfire had learned his lesson about regarding them with anything like curiosity.
“Yes, I would,” Skyfire answered, and was relieved to find that he genuinely meant it. Despite their previous threat and the rocky start the three of them had, he was genuinely interested in spending time with the twins, for friendship at the very least.
Perhaps more if all went well.
Sunstreaker's jaw dropped.
Sideswipe blinked, and then his mouth split into one of the cheesiest grins that Skyfire had ever seen.
“Oh,” Sideswipe said and sidled just a bit closer, so that the most distant edges of their fields brushed. “Well, in that case, how about the next time you're off-shift, we meet for dinner?”
Sunstreaker inched closer to his brother, adding his field to Sideswipe's, so that Skyfire could sense the tentative anticipation in it.
“Dinner,” Skyfire repeated as amusement trickled into his spark. “Yes. That sounds agreeable.”
“Good.” Sideswipe's smile widened and he tilted against his twin, knocking their shoulders. “Then we're just gonna go now. Let you get back to, uh, whatever it is you were doing before we push our luck too far.”
Skyfire's lips twitched. “If you insist.” He gestured to them with the box. “Thank you for the gift.”
“You're welcome.” It was soft, but coming from Sunstreaker, was worth everything.
They skedaddled, leaving Skyfire to watch their exit with a mixture of amusement and flattery. It certainly was better than the lingering fear they'd left him with last time.
Skyfire also bet that Ratchet would be glad to know he was right all along.
****
a/n: Two more parts to go. What will happen on their date? Will Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ever be able to express themselves? Only the future will tell. Not even I know yet. XD
Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
fuzipenguin in honor of her birthday! Happy Birthday, my friend! I hope you have a good day, full of lots of good things, and I know this is early, but I wanted to make sure I got it out in time. :) Thank you for being the awesome person you are. <3Characters: Sideswipe, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Skyfire
Rated: K+
Description: In which Skyfire is flummoxed, Ratchet is exasperated, Sunstreaker tries, and Sideswipe gets flustered.
Misconstruction - Part Four
They warned him.
Sunstreaker thanked him.
Sideswipe apologized.
Skyfire considered that to be the end. Things would go back to normal. He'd continue to keep his distance, but he would no longer feel obligated to leave the common room if the Twins entered it. Maybe they might even be friends as well as comrades.
Skyfire was happy to move on and put the whole thing behind him.
And then the gifts started appearing on his doorstep. They were little things at first: new datapads, small gadgets, boxes of energon goodies, tiny vials of flavored energon, tins of scented wax…
But every day, it was something new.
It was utterly baffling.
Especially since he knew they came from Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He had already forgiven them, there was no need for gifts. And yet, Skyfire was being inundated with them on a daily basis. He'd tried telling them that it wasn't necessary, but Sunstreaker started fleeing when Skyfire came near, and Sideswipe redirected the conversation with such skill that Skyfire was surprised he wasn't in Special Ops.
Without any answers, Skyfire resorted to a back-up plan.
He went to the medbay in search of Ratchet, who sighed and pinched his chevron when he saw Skyfire coming.
“What've those two idiots done now?” he asked with the air of an exhausted genitor.
Despite the situation, Skyfire found himself grinning. “I take it this is a common occurrence.”
“Not as often as you'd think, but I know that look in your optics.” Ratchet waved a hand toward him, gesturing for Skyfire to follow him. “What did they do?”
“It's nothing bad,” Skyfire rushed to reassure, almost as though he feared Ratchet was already coming up with ways to punish the Twins. “I'm just… confused.”
They stepped into Ratchet's office, and he closed the door behind them. Skyfire turned in a circle, finally selecting a stool that looked as though it might support his weight. Ratchet flopped down on the ratty-looking couch, exhaustion evident in the pinch of his expression.
“Confused why?” he asked.
Skyfire rubbed his palms down his thighs. “Well,” he said. “They're giving me gifts, and I don't understand why. I've already accepted their apology. When I try to speak with them about it, I get the runaround.”
Ratchet loudly cycled a ventilation and palmed his faceplate. “Those idiots,” he muttered, perhaps to himself, and looked over his hand at Skyfire. “It looks like you have a couple of admirers.”
Skyfire's fans stalled. “I… beg pardon?” He couldn't be more bewildered if he tried.
It was impossible. How could they go from loathing Skyfire and threatening to dismantle him, to all of the sudden wanting to give him gifts? They were as mercurial as Starscream, and that was not a compliment.
“You heard me,” Ratchet said with a sideways look. “Because it's either that, or they think you're still in need of apologies. I'm more inclined to believe the former.”
Skyfire worked his jaw. “Ratchet, I don't understand.”
“I know you don't.” Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose, his field flicking with the air of someone long-suffering. “It's because they are idiots who don't know the first thing about interacting with normal mechs, especially normal mechs who spent most of the war away from the war.”
Skyfire rebooted his vocalizer. “You're telling me,” he began slowly. “That I am receiving gifts from them because they have an… an infatuation with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don't they just say so?” Skyfire demanded, exasperated. His wings flicked upward.
“Probably cause they don't know how.” Ratchet shrugged, but it was far from dismissive. “They don't know the words, don't know how you'd take it. Probably aren't even sure themselves what they want.”
“I never thought they'd hesitate about anything,” Skyfire murmured.
“Not in battle, no.” Ratchet shifted his weight, his frame creaking with fatigue as he did so. “Battle, they understand. It's training. It's instinct. It's all they've ever known. Social interaction, well, that's a different story. Sideswipe understands better than Sunstreaker, but that's not saying much.”
Skyfire mulled on that, only to be struck with a sudden concern. “They're not… untouched are they?”
Ratchet stared at him for a moment before he laughed and grinned. “No. Certainly not. They've berthhopped as much as I have. Casual encounters are easy. There are no expectations.”
Skyfire's face heated. He knew Ratchet had to see it. He twisted his fingers together. “Then…?”
“They want something different from you,” Ratchet said with a nod. “And they're coming from a curious place of having insulted you previously. So they are doing the best they can with what they have.”
“I… see.” Skyfire settled into his stool, his thoughts a whirl.
Ratchet swept a hand over his helm. “I suppose the question you really need to be asking is whether or not you want them to stop.”
Skyfire's wings twitched. “I have to admit that I'm flattered.” He gave Ratchet a sideways look, his face heating further. “They are both very attractive.”
Ratchet chuckled. “That they are. But also complicated.” He paused and gave Skyfire a long look in return. “If you are interested, than say so. If not, say that as well. They won't figure it out on their own.”
Skyfire rapped his fingers on his thighs. “This is unexpected.”
“Tell me about it.” Ratchet barked a laugh.
“How is it that you understand them so well anyway?” Skyfire asked, desperate to change the subject by degrees, if only to give his processor something else to focus on.
“I've put those two scrapheap rejects back together more times than I can count. Somewhere along the way, they decided to trust me.” Ratchet waved a dismissive hand and pushed to his pedes, rubbing at the base of his spinal strut. “Now, I've got to get back to work and you--”
“--have some thinking to do,” Skyfire finished for him, also rising. His wings rose higher on his back. “Thank you, Ratchet. For the advice.”
Ratchet's lips curved. “Thank me after you've figured out what to do with those two pitspawn.”
~
Skyfire mulled it over for days. He avoided the Twins as surely as they avoided him, preferring instead to decide for himself what he wanted before he confronted them. It was complicated indeed, and Skyfire never expected to find himself in this position.
Even before he and the Twins had their little tiff, Skyfire had been something of persona non grata when it came to relationships around the Ark. He supposed it was the taint of Starscream he carried around with him like a hulking combiner in the corner. Or perhaps he couldn't blame Starscream. Perhaps he simply wasn't interesting or attractive or untrustworthy. There were dozens of potential factors.
Maybe he just preferred to have Starscream to blame rather than the blow to the ego that was considering himself undesirable.
Either way, Skyfire was surprised to find anyone, particularly two someones, especially the Twins, to have anything like a genuine interest in him. He was beyond flattered. He had to admit, also, he was curious. Intrigued.
Tempted.
Though he was not yet certain what he wished to do about it.
Which was, of course, when Skyfire heard scratching at his door.
That’s it. This time, he intended to catch them in the act.
Skyfire leapt up off his berth, and vaulted across the floor, slamming his palm onto the access panel so hard it spat up sparks. The door, as if obedient to his haste, sprang open as though it hadn’t just been demanding oil this morning.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked up at him, like two deer caught in headlights, Sideswipe in the middle of setting yet another wrapped package on the ground as Sunstreaker’s hand hung mid-air, something magnetic dangling from his fingers.
Sunstreaker blinked.
Sideswipe coughed. “Oh, uh, good morning!” he said brightly. “We were just–”
“Leaving me yet another inexplicable gift?” Skyfire asked mildly, one orbital ridge crawling upward.
Sunstreaker’s hand continued to linger, as though he’d forgotten how to move. “…. yes?”
It sounded more like a question.
Primus save them.
Skyfire resisted the urge to facepalm. And also, he owed Ratchet a vintage bottle of high grade. Because damn it, the medic was right. They were both of them clueless.
“Has it ever occurred to either of you that a simpler, cheaper, and more productive solution would be to, I don't know, talk to me?” Skyfire asked, his gaze skittering from one twin to the other.
Sideswipe blinked. Sunstreaker finally lowered his hand, tucking whatever object he carried into a loose fist.
“Talk… to you?” Sunstreaker repeated, as though he suddenly didn't understand what words meant and needed clarification.
Sideswipe sighed and straightened, still clutching the glitter-bedazzled gift as though it were a lifeline. “See, the thing is, we figured you wouldn't want to talk to us. So we thought--”
“--that you would spend the next few millennia sending me anonymous gifts?” Skyfire finished for him, and he couldn't help it. His lips twitched. Amusement made his wings flutter.
“I thought it was nice,” Sunstreaker mumbled. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking about as dangerous as a sparkling who'd been caught nicking energon candies.
“Yes.” Sideswipe nodded firmly. “That and we figured, well, the gifts couldn’t hurt our chances.” With that, he thrust the bedecked box toward Skyfire again.
He took it because he couldn't think of a reason not to, the box surprisingly heavy in comparison to the other presents that had been left for him.
“Thank you,” Skyfire replied. He had to admit that he was touched by the gifts, by their kindness, though it still baffled him. “I appreciate the gifts. Honestly. But you don't have to keep bringing them.”
Sunstreaker, of all things, looked crestfallen. “You don't like them?”
“I do,” Skyfire was quick to say, and even found himself leaning forward, as though trying to soothe a sparkling. He tilted back on his heelstruts. “I do. I only meant that they are not necessary. As I said, talking to me is a better alternative. Perhaps you might even consider inviting me to go somewhere with you.”
Sunstreaker blinked. “Like a date?”
“You'd actually agree to one?” Sideswipe added.
They had a curious way of completing one another's thoughts but not one another's sentences. From a scientific perspective, it was fascinating. But Skyfire had learned his lesson about regarding them with anything like curiosity.
“Yes, I would,” Skyfire answered, and was relieved to find that he genuinely meant it. Despite their previous threat and the rocky start the three of them had, he was genuinely interested in spending time with the twins, for friendship at the very least.
Perhaps more if all went well.
Sunstreaker's jaw dropped.
Sideswipe blinked, and then his mouth split into one of the cheesiest grins that Skyfire had ever seen.
“Oh,” Sideswipe said and sidled just a bit closer, so that the most distant edges of their fields brushed. “Well, in that case, how about the next time you're off-shift, we meet for dinner?”
Sunstreaker inched closer to his brother, adding his field to Sideswipe's, so that Skyfire could sense the tentative anticipation in it.
“Dinner,” Skyfire repeated as amusement trickled into his spark. “Yes. That sounds agreeable.”
“Good.” Sideswipe's smile widened and he tilted against his twin, knocking their shoulders. “Then we're just gonna go now. Let you get back to, uh, whatever it is you were doing before we push our luck too far.”
Skyfire's lips twitched. “If you insist.” He gestured to them with the box. “Thank you for the gift.”
“You're welcome.” It was soft, but coming from Sunstreaker, was worth everything.
They skedaddled, leaving Skyfire to watch their exit with a mixture of amusement and flattery. It certainly was better than the lingering fear they'd left him with last time.
Skyfire also bet that Ratchet would be glad to know he was right all along.
a/n: Two more parts to go. What will happen on their date? Will Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ever be able to express themselves? Only the future will tell. Not even I know yet. XD
Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
