30th Transmission - Semi-Open

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He had come to a conclusion. A conversation needed to be had. About... certain things. And he needed to do it now, before he lost his nerve.

Unfortunately, Ratchet wasn't in his room. Either of their rooms. Nor was he in the library, or the caves. Or the forest.

... How hard could it possibly be to find one neon Autobot? Especially on this boat?

Eventually, he winds his way up to the top deck, spending a moment staring out over the water, before heading toward the mini-golf course. Maybe the medic would be there.]



((ooc: Aimed at medicalofficer, but people can bump into him on his search if they like.))

Comments

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He could tell this was difficult for Ironhide, and Ratchet certainly didn't blame him for that - He could feel his own anxiety tugging at the back of his mind.

The last thing he needed to do was cause another conflict like he had at Halloween.]

You are not using me for anything - What I do, I do by choice.

If you wanted to be more than friends, that would be an entirely different question. I do not want to create an awkward situation, but if that is what you are asking me... I would not say no.

But I don't want to initiate anything that you would be... unhappy with. I do not want to be a regret.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He keeps turning the things he said during... "Valentines" over and over in his head. All of it was true. Every word. And then what the boy had been saying... He covers his face with a hand, cycling air a few times.]

You... heard me. During that last... whatever it was. I meant that. All of it...

But I... I do not... know what to do. What I want. I only know that... I... that you...

I want you.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[It was very hard not to think about their last... 'encounter.' He had tried not to think about whether it was the love potion speaking, or if it was Ironhide's actual feelings. Part of him didn't particularly want to know the answer; Ironhide's emotional side was guarded enough, without the medic feeling as though he had taken advantage of the situation.

But... he couldn't deny that he'd meant what he'd said that night as well.]

...

Ironhide, you really are... an old fool.

If that... If I was what you wanted...

[He folded his arms, trying to suppress the small smile that threatened to overtake his lips.]

You need only have said so.

[heavyweaponsbot]

But...

[He's not sure what it is he's trying to say right there. Finally, he glances back at the medic, but... doesn't move. Not yet. He just looks at him, hoping maybe that will help sort things out.]

I never have... I... should have, but... this--this is the only thing... I have ever been afraid of.

[He turns away again, and shutters his optics. He's not lying. Not any of it. He's just confused and worried he's going to do something wrong.]

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

... You have nothing to be afraid of. We are only talking - Nothing has been decided.

[He reaches over to rest a hand on his shoulder, squeezing the armor lightly.]

... I... meant everything I said too. That night.

[heavyweaponsbot]

It... is... what happens... after we decide... that I am afraid of. Stupid, foolish. I know that. But I...

["can't help it". That doesn't come out. Instead... he leans back, slightly, anticipating the other's support.]

... You did?

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He braces Ironhide's weight, cycling a sigh.]

... Would you feel any less worried, if we did not 'officially' decide anything?

Emotional responses have a tendency to happen, whether we decide to acknowledge them or not. If we were to... decide to act upon them... it would only mean that we could experience the benefits as well.

... I did.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Something in him relaxes when he feels Ratchet brace against him. It's a good feeling. Always has been.]

No... I... Always going to worry about... harming you somehow. With this.

[Then he's quiet again. A longer silence this time, with everything turning over and over in his head. His head drops.]

I would... want no one else to know. This is between us... not them. But...

[He hesitates, and nearly pulls away - almost just plain runs away.]




All right.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

It is none of their business, what occurs.

[The only exception he would make to that would be Optimus Prime himself - were he here. As his soldiers, it was only fair to give him the heads up that the situation had changed; but as he was not there, it made little difference at this point.]

...

[His intakes hitched slightly, his hold on the other tightening.]

Does that mean...?

[heavyweaponsbot]

Yeah...

[He's still afraid. Still expecting this all to go wrong, if he even so much as tries. And if they go back... what do they do then?]

...

[It's better that Ratchet's holding onto him. If not, he might have given in to the urge to pull away. As much as he wanted to stay right where he was. His vocals work, a little burst of static before he manages words.]


I... yeah. Does.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[Ratchet admittedly is nervous - He hadn't been in a relationship since before the war started. It was hard to remember back that far at times, to think about what it was like without the conflict.

But... there were no Decepticons here. No war. True, they would have to go back to their world. He wanted to go back. But... if they kept it between them, kept it personal - What harm could it do? So long as the Decepticons didn't know about it, they couldn't exploit it.]

... I'm glad.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He doesn't respond for a long moment, staring off across the golf course. It's been too long. As he'd unfortunately admitted during the time he'd been younger, he'd had another relationship before. One that had ended... explosively. And that had been during peacetime.

After a time, he lifts his hand, placing it over Ratchet's. He'll try--he can't make any promises that he'll do well.]

Do... not get... too excited. Not any good at this. I... I am sorry if I--no idea what... But I want--I said that already...

[He's off and babbling. He doesn't know what he's trying to say.]

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[His babbling actually made Ratchet smile, leaning closer against his back. This was the only situation that would ever make the larger mech so flustered, and it was actually a little... endearing.]

I am happy with what I get.

I am well aware that your social skills are not your strong point - Were it any different, you would not be you. I prefer you as you are, thick-head and all.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[That, at least, shuts him up. He finally turns to face him, pulling away just long enough to do so.]

I... yeah. Me too...

[He glances around again, before leaning forward, resting his forehead against Ratchet's. His optics shutter closed.]

... I... Prefer you. Like this. Digging holes in the dirt.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He leans against him, his engine kicking on with a soft purr, his own optics shuttered.]

Then we will find a way to make it work.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His own engine responds in kind, and he finally, fully relaxes. This... is right. He lets his hands rest on Ratchet's shoulders, moving a thumb lightly over the paneling.]

Going to have to help me.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

Of course.

[He moves his other hand up to hold Ironhide's other shoulder, rumbling gently. This was comfortable - It just seemed natural, as though they fit.]

Just do not expect me to go any easier on you, if you get your aft slagged.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Something's changed. But not badly. Something was missing--and now... He can't explain it. He doesn't want to explain it. He leans a little more against Ratchet, the combined vibrations from both engines... oddly calming.]

I expect nothing like that from you... Expect... you to be harder on me.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He ran his hand over the curve of his shoulder armor, mentally noting each indent and scar. After all, he'd been the one to weld the majority of them.]

Most likely - So keep that in mind, before you go and do anything stupid.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He can't help it. He leans a little into the touch--especially when Ratchet's fingers brush over the scars. There's so many, it's impossible to miss them.]

Always kept it in mind... just... never listened to myself.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He noticed the move, and stroked the metal lightly with his thumb, tracing the line of one of the deeper scars.]

Then now would be a good time to start.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He's not sure why, and probably never will be sure, but the way his medic touches the scarring... it feels good. He leans into it a little more, engine purring louder.]

You sure of that...?

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[He continues to gently stroke his armor, pleased with the purring.]

Mmhmm.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He doesn't want him to stop, but at the same time, he's well aware of their location. Anyone could just walk up... anyone could see. Still... he's leaning heavily against the other.]

Good at... that.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[His scanners are on high alert - if anyone were around, Ratchet would pick up some sign before they could stumble upon them. Not that Ironhide would realize it.]

Doctor's touch.