knowhere | [private to Drift]

[Wing is definitely interested in warming, yes. Perhaps, in fact, with some newly fabricated energon in both their systems.]

It's a laugh I wouldn't have imagined the Megatron of the early war to have, yes.

[He shrugs.] No, we've never spoken. He keeps to himself.

Hm. Maybe I should be more welcoming as a neighbor? [Welcome wagon giftbasket?]

You know how to make this, then? [SO IMPRESSED, Drift you are a connoisseur of these strange human foods.] Yes, of course, this way.

[Fuel is good! And not just because it enables energetic activities. ]

It's good to hear, yeah. I'm happy that he's come around finally. [Drift can console himself with that. At least he made the large mech laugh--who often looks surprisingly old and tired in the less guarded moments--even if it was at Drift's own expense.] More welcoming? Er, like how?

[Naw he doesn't sound alarmed at that!]

Of course! It's right here-- [On the label. No, shhh, don't ruin that great impression.] --in the kitchen right?

He does seem quite...different than the mech I remembered from the holovids.

[Which had been, he admits, probably heavily edited by Zeta and Sentinel to cast the worst possible light on the miner-turned-revolutionary. Still, he was a surprise.]

Oh, I don't know. Go for a walk? Bring over some breakfast? [That's what human food is called, right?]

[He nods, following Drift into the kitchen, pulling one of the bowls out and offering--hoping it's big enough.]

Will you let me smell it? I am curious.

[Because strawberries! ]

I suppose it goes without saying that he's been through a lot. But something happened back on Cybertron. I don't know the details but it really seemed to strike home. Something Bumblebee said or did... [A sheepish but warm smile.] Rather reminds me of what you did for me really...

[Drift thinks for a moment, deciding this sounds harmless enough.] I think he'd like that actually. Understandably there aren't many willing to be friendly to him.

[But watching Wing in the kitchen reminds Drift of something important, (he must be fully recovered from his wrong-door mishap)!] Oh! How is your hand?

You've all been through so much. [And so much self-inflicted. It hurt to think about.]

All I ever did for you, Drift, was treat you as a friend.

[He might have wished to do more, but time and fate had other plans.]

[He flexes his right hand, with a sheepish grin.]

All right. You can hardly tell, can you?

War wounds run deep. We're healing though, slowly, even Cybertron. [And even with as many stumbles as they've had along the way, he knows it's still progress.]

The first in a very long time. I'd...forgotten what it was like.

[He couldn't even appreciate that for what it was back then, much less more. The harsh truth of wanting more came when it was too late. But hey, second chances, yeah? He's not wasting it.]

[Drift stares at the hand, surprised, moving forward to get a closer look. 'Pleased' and 'concerned' seems to be fighting a battle for control of his features though.] Wow. Did you see a medic? Or engineer? [BETTER NOT BE PHARMA]

It's true. Many of the worst wounds of war aren't physical.

[Even Dai Atlas had had more than one, which had festered to the surface when Drift arrived.]

No one should forget what friends are like, Drift. And especially not here.

[Not if Wing has anything to say about it.]

Oh. I. Uh. This is me.

[He nods, a gesture that not only agrees but commiserates.] And beyond. It's hard to grow past all that now that it's over.

[But Wing is a great reminder that it's possible, that life outside of war can be a wonderful thing. ~~When not disrupted by Decepticon idiots that is~~.]

I don't think I could with you around. [Or Rodimus or Megatron... But Wing is special, he was the first since Gasket.]

Well of course it's you. [Duh. He reaches out to take the hand in two of his own. What is this jet even talking about.....?]

Hard, but not impossible. If one can endure war, one can survive peace.

[At least as far as Drift is concerned, Wing is confident.]

Not if I have anything to say about it. [And he will say plenty about it.]

[Wing spreads the fingers--it seems to take some concentration as he does it. ]

I mean, it's, well, not real. It's me, but not really me. [Clears that right up!]

I would think so! It seems so simple when you put it like that. Yet after 4 millions years of war, it's hard to set aside grudges. It's happening though, faster for some than others. [Megatron is an example in that, for all that most don't believe him.]

[He just grins, his spark tight and blooming in his chassis at the same time, a little overcome by the strength of Wing's conviction. He doesn't feel worthy, but if Wing says...?]

Not real--? [Refocusing with his expectations pushed a aside, Drift starts to understand. Wing's aura is present, stronger than usual even, but the EM field is near to missing, as if the hand wasn't there.] Wait...what??? That is. Odd!! How, what...?

[CRYSTAL clear communication happening right here yup.]

The truth is almost always simple to state, Drift. It's the living it out that becomes...difficult at times.

[Wing does say. And he'll say it louder and louder if necessary.]

It works well enough, so far. [As long as he doesn't lose concentration. That's a problem. Especially because he wants to concentrate on Drift right now.]

Meditation does some wonderful things. [That, and the gem, he thinks.]

So difficult.

[And maybe disrupt the neighbors in the process because Wing might have to get that loud. Drift will be so embarrassed. ~~DO IT ANYWAY~~.]

So, you're, doing that...with your gem's power? [Color him extremely impressed!] And meditation got you this far? [Teach him your secrets, Wing!]

[He can't help but manipulate the hand a little, running his thumbs over the seams of the palm, down the fingers, contacting the pressure points he knows would normally be there. The fact that that's just a little bit intimate will probably dawn on him any moment here...]

It seems to me you're doing wonderfully well with it, Drift. You just need to take the faith you put out there, [Wing will tap at Drift's chassis with his good hand.] in here.

[Another 'easier said than done' thing.]

I am. If you really need something, apparently, it gets easier.

[And right about now, the gentle, exploring touches of Drift's fingerpads against his hand are definitely in that 'need' category. Or right next to it.]

You think so? [He's hoped so. But it's different hearing it from someone else, Wing most of all.] I've had some... Well. Less than shining moments of late. Before arriving here.

[That being one of them. But there's something else meaningful in the tap of Wing's finger against his blank chestplate. Like maybe...it's the only thing that belongs there?]

Need something? [It makes him look up, realizing how close he's wandered in his inspection, his mouth opening to speak further but nothing quite makes it out. It's just, ya know, hanging out there, like they are.]

Everyone has moments that don't seem--at the time--to be their best. But those are tests that allow our best to shine brighter.

[In other words, he will swat aside any insecurity, just like he used to chuck Drift around.]

Well, I can't wield a sword without a hand, can I?

Well I won't be making the same mistake twice, that's for certain. [Too high, the price. He can see all the mistakes he made along the way, though that does nothing if he can't learn from them right? Shine brighter. He needs to not make them here.

Drift pulls back, a little insecure in other ways, a shy smile fluttering over his face.]

Of everyone, you'd find a way though. The power of faith and determination?

[And an infinity gem shard sure, but it still takes willpower to use, right?]

[Wing grins.]

Well, I did think about trying to hold a blade in my mouth, but...I think this is more practical.

[Not only because of fighting, but because he can do this: turn his palm under Drift's, his hand holding the other's.]

In your... [Gulp. W-why is that image so...umyeahhot.]

If this is practical...[He gives the hand a squeeze, finding certain points to press upon that whisper gently of his contentment. And more...] I like it.

[Hot? Wing was thinking 'silly' and impractical. He wrinkles his nose in laughter at the image.]

[His engines give a lilting purr at the touches, curious and knowledgeable and...hopeful? ]

Well. I haven't tested it very much.

[Which is a hint for Drift to keep, erm, helping him test it.]

[Well, admittedly, Wing plus anything is hot just by nature of Wing being involved. (Unless that anything is a someone other than him, then not so hot.) Course he's maybe not strictly thinking combat things, oops. Sorry Wing, he's been reeeeally lonely for a little while now.]

So you need practice using it? Like grip strength or, uh, manual dexterity things?

[Wing needs a helper? Pick him, pick him!!]

[Wing would imagine that losing a hand in a glowy quantum anomaly wasn't too 'hot'. At least not too smart. But his curiosity had always outpaced him. ]

[Still, the little purr of the other's engine, and the way the hands don't leave his, even now, after he's revealed what it is, is encouraging.]

I could use practice with all of it, yes.

[Like now and the way he strokes it up Drift's wrist. He's just, uh, checking sensitivity.]

[Well no, that is decidedly un-hot. However, the image of Wing wielding a sword with his teeth? YES-hot. Sorry, Drift just has, uh, tastes in that area now. All thanks to Wing, on multiple levels.

His optics lid as those exploring touches travel up his arm, EM field going soft in invitation. It's nice to be touched, a seemingly small thing but one he's come to really appreciate (and long for) in his time alone. Rodimus does loves his cuddletime, and Drift is honored to be chosen to fill that need, but in the end it's always what Rodimus needs. This feels...different.]

It feels like you, but not you. [And not in a bad way, considering he's completely forgotten about the jello on the counter.]

[Well, maybe they should talk about the relative hotnesses of things to do with blades and/or mouths once Wing's little surprise is revealed. The good one, he figures, the energon convertor hulking under the flowered cloth.]

[And Wing really should be thinking about his surprise--that's why he'd invited Drift over, really. But the way the EM field turns into a soft plushness under his touch is captivating. It's hard to feel like he should stop. ]

I can feel things normally with it. Especially if I concentrate. [Which, guess what he's doing right now? Definitely concentrating: not wanting to miss a contour, or a seam.]

[O-ooh. Because adding energon to that mix can only make it hotter. ER. better. And things. yes. ANYWAY.]

[But well, Drift is saying nothing at all akin to 'no' or 'stop' or 'why am I here again' because as far as he's concerned at the moment this right here can be his life's destiny. Especially if those touches keep moving. Sorry Wing, you're the more disciplined one here.]

Anything? Normally? [He bites his lower lipplate because that is a tremendous temptation right there.] Is that...a challenge?

[Wing doesn't like dilemmas, having two things to choose between, but he really can't complain about this one: having two such wonderful options: touching Drift, and showing him his surprise.

[Surely there's a way he doesn't have to choose?]

Maybe that sets the parameters of our testing, at least.

[Wink wink nudge nudge, stroke up the arm....that Wing turns into cupping the other's elbow, turning him toward the lump on the table.]

But testing is, I hear, strenuous work.

[Drift may need his strength.]

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