Wingrubbings
Jun. 4th, 2009 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Wingrubbings
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluffies.
Fireflight slumped against his berth, groaning softly in sheer exhaustion. Today had been hectic, an early morning sortie against the Decepticons, followed by a long stretch of dogfighting, then a turn as Superion when the ‘Con gestalts showed up. A lucky blow from Menasor had tumbled them to the ground; landing on their side, and the corresponding arm (i.e. Fireflight) had taken the brunt of the fall. Superion had been up again in moments, but the red jet still ached from it.
Still, he was lucky. His self repair would take care of most of the damage, mostly dents and scratches. Air Raid and Slingshot were stuck in the med bay, offline if the lack of response over their bond was any indication, and Silverbolt and Skydive were in an after battle debrief, leaving him all on his own right now.
Fireflight sighed. He was bored, tired, and worried about his brothers, but didn’t want to bug the online members of his gestalt over their connection. ‘Bolt was prone to going off on guilt trips whenever any of them got hurt, and he wanted to try keeping that to a minimum this time.
A knock on his door had the Aerialbot feebly trying to shift his head in its direction, and he called out for whoever it was to enter. Grey and red soon filled his visual field, and Bluestreak smiled down at him in sympathy.
“Hey Fireflight. I was just in the med bay and your brothers asked me to check up on you. They’re doing fine, Ratchet will let them go in a few hours once the sedatives wear off. But how’re you holding up?”
The flier perked at the mention of his teammates, sitting up too quickly and jarring already tender circuits. His wince was not unnoticed by the other mech, and the gunner was immediately checking him over for any accidentally missed or purposely concealed injury. Fireflight batted him away futilely.
“M’fine, wings are just a little sore. Why were you in the med bay? Were you hurt? You should be resting too.”
“I was visiting Smokescreen. As for me, it’s nothing a little recharge won’t take care of.” Bluestreak patted his arm reassuringly, then motioned for the jet to turn around so that his back faced the Datsun. Fireflight did so with a puzzled expression, watching the sharpshooter over his shoulder until the grey mech laughingly turned his helm to face forwards once more.
“Relax, ‘Flight. This’ll help with the achy-ness.”
Then gentle hands were moving across his wings and back plating, adjusting tense cables and wiring, soothing away the soreness and drawing a quiet sigh of relief from the jet.
“Feel better?”
“Much, thanks Blue’.”
Then Bluestreak did something and Fireflight squeaked as suddenly, pain shot through his circuits, only to vanish immediately, leaving him shaking as the gunner apologised, still rubbing the jet’s wings, chasing the lingering aftershocks away.
“Sorry, you had a sensory bundle that was all twisted up.”
“S’alright. Doesn’t hurt anymore. Ooh, that feels nice.” The red jet’s optics dimmed as he sighed and leant forward, supporting himself on his arms, making it easier for Bluestreak to rub his wings and back, then glanced back again to ask. “Where’d you learn to do wingrubs so well?”
“Heh, you see these?” The Datsun’s doors rose briefly. “They aren’t glued on, y’know. It was practically a matter of survival. Doorwings can get really strained sometimes.”
“Oh.” Bluestreak manoeuvred the Aerialbot so that he was lying across the gunner’s lap, continuing to work on the jet’s stressed circuits. Systems purring with contentment and halfway into recharge, the flier still managed to ask another question. “But, you can’t rub your own wings.”
A soft chuckle, and as a hand slowly stroked across Fireflight’s helm and down his back struts, relaxing him completely, he faintly heard Bluestreak’s answer.
“No, but Smokescreen and Prowl are always happy to help. You think I’m good? They could probably turn you into a puddle in moments.”
= = =
Silverbolt and Skydive hurried back to the Aerialbots’ quarters. Halfway through the debrief, they’d felt Fireflight in pain, but that was quickly followed by a rolling wave of pleasure. Confused, they’d restrained themselves from running out of the room to check on their gestaltmate, but now they were free to rush to his side and fuss over him however much they had to.
Bursting through Fireflight’s door, they stopped short at the scene before them. The red and white jet was half curled onto Bluestreak’s knees, deep in recharge, with a pleased little smile on his faceplates. The Datsun met their befuddled looks with an amused one.
“A little help? ‘Flight finally fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”
They had their fellow Aerialbot settled comfortably on his berth (as opposed to on his-berth-and-Bluestreak’s-lap) in moments, and the gunner stood beside them, stretching briefly before bidding them farewell. They watched the Datsun leave, then a noise had them turning back to Fireflight.
“ ‘Flight? You okay? We felt you hurting just now.” Skydive was hovering over the other jet, sounding worried, and Silverbolt nodded his agreement, looking guilty in addition to being concerned.
“S’alright. ‘Bolt, quit thinking it’s your fault. Bluestreak helped. He’s really good at wingrubbings. I gotta get him to do this again.” Fireflight smiled goofily up at them, still humming with relaxed contentment. His teammates glanced at each other, then back at him, before joining him on the berth, pressing close in relief and fatigue. Fireflight snuggled close, dropping into recharge again, optics brightening momentarily as he recalled the sharpshooter’s words.
“And he says Prowl and Smokescreen are just as good, if not better. Definitely gonna check that out too.”
= = =
Elsewhere in the Ark, a certain gunner knocked on another mech’s door, and when it opened, directed a full on puppy opticked gaze on the bot standing in the doorway.
Prowl sighed, smiling faintly as he beckoned Bluestreak in, and from deeper inside the room a laugh could be heard over soft music as both Datsuns settled on a couch, the grey mech’s expression one of complete bliss as white hands set to work.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluffies.
Fireflight slumped against his berth, groaning softly in sheer exhaustion. Today had been hectic, an early morning sortie against the Decepticons, followed by a long stretch of dogfighting, then a turn as Superion when the ‘Con gestalts showed up. A lucky blow from Menasor had tumbled them to the ground; landing on their side, and the corresponding arm (i.e. Fireflight) had taken the brunt of the fall. Superion had been up again in moments, but the red jet still ached from it.
Still, he was lucky. His self repair would take care of most of the damage, mostly dents and scratches. Air Raid and Slingshot were stuck in the med bay, offline if the lack of response over their bond was any indication, and Silverbolt and Skydive were in an after battle debrief, leaving him all on his own right now.
Fireflight sighed. He was bored, tired, and worried about his brothers, but didn’t want to bug the online members of his gestalt over their connection. ‘Bolt was prone to going off on guilt trips whenever any of them got hurt, and he wanted to try keeping that to a minimum this time.
A knock on his door had the Aerialbot feebly trying to shift his head in its direction, and he called out for whoever it was to enter. Grey and red soon filled his visual field, and Bluestreak smiled down at him in sympathy.
“Hey Fireflight. I was just in the med bay and your brothers asked me to check up on you. They’re doing fine, Ratchet will let them go in a few hours once the sedatives wear off. But how’re you holding up?”
The flier perked at the mention of his teammates, sitting up too quickly and jarring already tender circuits. His wince was not unnoticed by the other mech, and the gunner was immediately checking him over for any accidentally missed or purposely concealed injury. Fireflight batted him away futilely.
“M’fine, wings are just a little sore. Why were you in the med bay? Were you hurt? You should be resting too.”
“I was visiting Smokescreen. As for me, it’s nothing a little recharge won’t take care of.” Bluestreak patted his arm reassuringly, then motioned for the jet to turn around so that his back faced the Datsun. Fireflight did so with a puzzled expression, watching the sharpshooter over his shoulder until the grey mech laughingly turned his helm to face forwards once more.
“Relax, ‘Flight. This’ll help with the achy-ness.”
Then gentle hands were moving across his wings and back plating, adjusting tense cables and wiring, soothing away the soreness and drawing a quiet sigh of relief from the jet.
“Feel better?”
“Much, thanks Blue’.”
Then Bluestreak did something and Fireflight squeaked as suddenly, pain shot through his circuits, only to vanish immediately, leaving him shaking as the gunner apologised, still rubbing the jet’s wings, chasing the lingering aftershocks away.
“Sorry, you had a sensory bundle that was all twisted up.”
“S’alright. Doesn’t hurt anymore. Ooh, that feels nice.” The red jet’s optics dimmed as he sighed and leant forward, supporting himself on his arms, making it easier for Bluestreak to rub his wings and back, then glanced back again to ask. “Where’d you learn to do wingrubs so well?”
“Heh, you see these?” The Datsun’s doors rose briefly. “They aren’t glued on, y’know. It was practically a matter of survival. Doorwings can get really strained sometimes.”
“Oh.” Bluestreak manoeuvred the Aerialbot so that he was lying across the gunner’s lap, continuing to work on the jet’s stressed circuits. Systems purring with contentment and halfway into recharge, the flier still managed to ask another question. “But, you can’t rub your own wings.”
A soft chuckle, and as a hand slowly stroked across Fireflight’s helm and down his back struts, relaxing him completely, he faintly heard Bluestreak’s answer.
“No, but Smokescreen and Prowl are always happy to help. You think I’m good? They could probably turn you into a puddle in moments.”
= = =
Silverbolt and Skydive hurried back to the Aerialbots’ quarters. Halfway through the debrief, they’d felt Fireflight in pain, but that was quickly followed by a rolling wave of pleasure. Confused, they’d restrained themselves from running out of the room to check on their gestaltmate, but now they were free to rush to his side and fuss over him however much they had to.
Bursting through Fireflight’s door, they stopped short at the scene before them. The red and white jet was half curled onto Bluestreak’s knees, deep in recharge, with a pleased little smile on his faceplates. The Datsun met their befuddled looks with an amused one.
“A little help? ‘Flight finally fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”
They had their fellow Aerialbot settled comfortably on his berth (as opposed to on his-berth-and-Bluestreak’s-lap) in moments, and the gunner stood beside them, stretching briefly before bidding them farewell. They watched the Datsun leave, then a noise had them turning back to Fireflight.
“ ‘Flight? You okay? We felt you hurting just now.” Skydive was hovering over the other jet, sounding worried, and Silverbolt nodded his agreement, looking guilty in addition to being concerned.
“S’alright. ‘Bolt, quit thinking it’s your fault. Bluestreak helped. He’s really good at wingrubbings. I gotta get him to do this again.” Fireflight smiled goofily up at them, still humming with relaxed contentment. His teammates glanced at each other, then back at him, before joining him on the berth, pressing close in relief and fatigue. Fireflight snuggled close, dropping into recharge again, optics brightening momentarily as he recalled the sharpshooter’s words.
“And he says Prowl and Smokescreen are just as good, if not better. Definitely gonna check that out too.”
= = =
Elsewhere in the Ark, a certain gunner knocked on another mech’s door, and when it opened, directed a full on puppy opticked gaze on the bot standing in the doorway.
Prowl sighed, smiling faintly as he beckoned Bluestreak in, and from deeper inside the room a laugh could be heard over soft music as both Datsuns settled on a couch, the grey mech’s expression one of complete bliss as white hands set to work.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 05:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 06:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 06:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 08:14 pm (UTC)I'd love to see Prowl do that to one of the other aerials (or seekers) just to see their reaction.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:48 pm (UTC)Optimus:"Prowl, what did you do to the Aerialbots?
Megatron:"Frag the Aerialbots! What did you do to my Seekers??!
Seekers and Aerialbots:*Puddle of content goo*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 09:35 pm (UTC)Nicely, fluffily done! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 09:58 pm (UTC)They aren’t glued on, y’know. hee hee XD
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 03:12 am (UTC)Yes, I can't help my rampant ProwlxJazz fan-ness. ^_^;;
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-06 01:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-06 01:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 03:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 03:56 am (UTC)**Gives prowl puppy dog eyes, too, and flaps her door wings**
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 03:58 am (UTC)I.
I-I think I just got a cavity...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 05:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 04:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 09:19 am (UTC)Note to self: Learn to fly. Build machine to bring Blue here.
*was totally not stalking you over your lj... ehe..*
Srsly though, you're a great writer. Your nearly-daily updates are one of the better things in the fandom.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 11:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:12 pm (UTC)Now... I lack the wings, but still I think I need a good backrub... ::thinks:: where to get that?
o.o Here, have a cookie for this! n_n
TAKE CARE!!
MISAO-CG
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 12:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-07 04:55 am (UTC)<33333333333333333333333
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-08 03:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-17 03:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-18 06:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-28 07:17 pm (UTC)You used my Favourite Character Fireflight is so adorable, and Bluestreak with him is enough to melt Megatron's spark ^^
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-29 06:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-29 03:50 pm (UTC)