FIC: Difficult Things: Little Details
Difficult Things: Little Details
By Dreaming of Everything/dreams_of_all/dream_it_all.
Series: Transformers (G1)
Pairings/Characters: HoundxTwins (starting with HoundxSunstreaker, so bear with me here.) Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, others.
Ratings/Warnings: T for safety so far, some of the later chapters jumping to M for mech/mech(/mech). Technically slash. Psuedo-incestuous. Threesome, both as a relationship and in sex scenes.
Summary: G1. Hound's realized Sunstreaker is watching him, which is kind of unnerving, really. Sunstreaker is convinced he wants absolutely positively nothing to do with Hound. Sideswipe's amused. Bumblebee's bemused. Everyone else is clueless--so far, at least. Love is not an easy thing.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to my incomparable beta, mmouse15! Further thanks to the wonderful anon_decepticon for her help with this chapter!
I also know that it's been a long time (as in nine months) since I've updated, and I'm very, very sorry about that! I seriously had it almost finished six or seven months ago-it was just the last three sections that gave me hell, which is where anon_decepticon comes in. Thank you for your patience, everyone, and I promise that this is never going to happen again, come hell or high water.
Chapter 1: Absolutely Not in Love
Chapter 2: Personality Conflicts
Chapter 3: In the Dark
Chapter 4: Little Details
Chapter 5: Patience
Chapter 6: Helplessly
FFnet link
Difficult Things: Little Details
Sideswipe was worried. More than he usually was. Because Hound-he was getting to be almost as bad as Sunstreaker, what was with the mech to make him the one most important outside influence in their lives for months at a time?-Hound was talking to Sunstreaker some, and they were getting along, kind of, but-
Hound would say hello to Sunstreaker, but it was a reserved hello. They talked a little on patrol, but it was always about inconsequentials, never even about anything that Hound was particularly interested in. Or anything that Sunstreaker was interested in, but that was a different matter. Even when he chatted with Sunny outside of patrols, it was different from how he interacted with his friends. Because, Sideswipe was pretty sure, Hound didn't see Sunstreaker as a friend at all. When he was with Trailbreaker, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, even Tracks, he was relaxed, open, even chatty-he was friendly. He joked around a lot, always had something to talk about.
And he was more open about talking with Sunstreaker, and a slagging lot better than most mechs on the Ark were at all, but he was still not comfortable with him. With them, really, because Sideswipe was pretty sure that Hound didn't like him much more than he liked his twin-he wasn't sure whether that was good (because it meant he kept aware, and that it wasn't just Sunstreaker) or bad (because that wasn't going to make anything any easier.)
The thing was, Sunstreaker picked up on some of that, but not all of it. More to the point, he didn't know how to do anything about it. He had absolutely no talent when it came to making friends, or even when it came to making himself seem inoffensive. And he was kind of a social failure. He didn't get interactions between mechs that weren't Sideswipe and himself. That was mostly because he didn't care, and never really had, certainly not in a long, long time-but it wasn't that entirely. It was partly because he was inexperienced, and because he just-he just didn't work that way. And it was okay, usually, but Sideswipe-yeah, he was worried.
Hound was nervous. Confused, maybe. Sideswipe was pretty good at reading people, and he'd been paying attention. And what he'd seen scared him, honestly. Because somebody was going to end up hurting, if something didn't change, and physically it might be Hound, but emotionally-
Emotionally, it was going to be Sunstreaker. And Ratchet wouldn't be able to put him back together. Hell, the medic-everyone-was going to be furious with him if something did go wrong. Because knowing Sunny, he'd take it out of someone's hide, and it would probably be Hound's.
Hound had been watching a pair of rabbits, but he wasn't so preoccupied that he didn't notice Sunstreaker's arrival.
“Hello,” he said, distractedly, as the other mech drew nearer. He thought he should maybe say something else, but he didn't know what-it wasn't like Sunstreaker had any interest in organic wildlife. And he couldn't even begin to guess why he'd sought him out in the first place at all.
“Hey,” muttered Sunstreaker, which was actually a pretty nice greeting for him, Hound was learning. He...really didn't seem big on pleasantries, or social niceties.
At all. To put it mildly.
...But he seemed to be trying...
There were a few minutes of silence. After a while, a hawk appeared, and the rabbits bolted for their burrows. Hound turned away with a sigh (after a few quick image captures of the hawk, he wanted to look up what kind it was) and faced Sunstreaker instead. He was a little surprised to find the warrior studying him with surprising intensity. Maybe more surprising was the utter lack of aggression in the look.
The lack of aggression assuming that Hound was reading him right. Which wasn't necessarily true. But it seemed likely...Hound was getting to know Sunstreaker. He was unbalanced, yes, but not to the point where he had strikingly different body language, different ways to give nonverbal threats; no, Sunstreaker wasn't that crazy. And he was surprisingly honest-although Hound wasn't sure why that was a surprise. Either way, whatever he was feeling seemed to show on his face. It was just that whatever he was feeling was, usually, angry.
“I was looking at some rabbits,” offered Hound, because he needed to say something. Predictably, a look of irritation flashed across Sunstreaker's face. He really, really didn't care at all, and he knew that Hound knew that. Which was fair-everyone had different tastes, and Hound's were somewhat unusual, even for an Autobot.
“...I wanted to see what you were doing,” offered Sunstreaker after a short pause, somewhat moodily.
That was a-surprise. To put it very, very slightly.
Hound was shocked, and unsure. He didn't know how to respond, but-
Honesty was usually the best policy. So was the straight-forward approach. “Why?” he asked, voice open, honest.
“I want-to get to know you better?” hazarded Sunstreaker, looking and sounding like he knew even less than Hound did. He also looked surprised, actually, which Hound kind of appreciated. At least it meant that he wasn't alone.
The silence that followed dragged on so long that even Sunstreaker knew that something was wrong.
He stood, roughly, and turned, pretty face twisted and contorted with warring anger, embarrassment and loss, all combining into something that looked, at least, only like fury, but Hound stuck out an unexpected hand, grabbing gently at Sunstreaker's leg, the only thing he could still reach the way they were positioned: Sunstreaker striding away, shoulders set, and Hound on the ground, half-twisted around.
“Wait,” Hound said, surprising himself this time. It was just a day for them, surprises, he guessed-
Sunstreaker did stop, although he didn't turn to face the other mech. He was torn, conflicted, and it was obvious, in his posture and, Hound was pretty sure, in his expression, too-he wasn't very good about hiding his emotions, sometimes.
“I-didn't know. That, ah, you were trying to make friends?” The statement became a question, because Hound really wasn't sure-well, that was the only logical answer as to what Sunstreaker had said, but he was also pretty confident that there was at least a chance that he would take exception to that actually being said, in so many words.
Sunstreaker didn't react, though. Which was also a surprise. Like he'd thought: it was a day full of them. Maybe too full.
“With me, at least. But I guess-I should have. So I'm sorry for that? You don't need a reason to track me down.”
There was no verbal response, but Sunstreaker relaxed a little, although something-probably pride-kept him from turning around to face Hound again.
“So-now that you've...found me...
“Do you want to do something this afternoon before our shift starts?”
“We could go for a drive?” Sunstreaker said, sounding hesitant as he spoke up. But maybe hopeful, too, in his own strange way.
“...I won't be able to keep up with you.” That was the pure, unvarnished truth. Over really rough terrain, maybe Hound would have the advantage, but on any road-he had no hope in hell. He was fine with that, but Sunstreaker, on the other hand-and if he'd wanted to do something together, having three miles distance between them because he was just too fast for Hound, then-
“...I can slow down?”
Hound smiled, slowly. “Alright,” he said. “That sounds-good.” Surprisingly, it really did. Or at least, it sounded acceptable enough, for an afternoon off; or, no, something more than that. “Let's go, then?”
Hound was keeping up a pretty good pace, for him, and it was nice to just get out and move, with no further purpose.
Sunstreaker was radioing him. “You're not too slow,” he admitted, and his tone almost made it a compliment instead of an insult.
...Sunstreaker wasn't a bad partner for this sort of thing. Even with his offer to slow himself down, Hound-Hound hadn't expected him to actually do so. That made him feel bad, a little guilty-the mech was reaching out to him, he could at least have the decency to have a little faith in him. So it was Sunstreaker, widely accepted to be one of the most dangerous mechs on the Ark, for Autobots as well as Decepticons, so what? But...
...Wouldn't it be hard to live with that kind of reputation?
So maybe he was at fault, too. Hound prided himself on being a good mech-friendly, reliable, he liked to be there for his friends, his team-and, well, he'd failed himself, maybe. He owed it to Sunstreaker to at least consider the possibility that he was sincere. It...might even explain something. Maybe.
The other side of the equation was that Sunstreaker had earned his reputation. It hadn't been thrust upon him, with no provocation. The Autobots were highly accepting of quirks (oh yes) and people were allowed to prove themselves when they arrived. The twins were no exception. They'd definitely proved themselves. Proved something, at least.
Sunstreaker had looked vulnerable when he'd turned to leave, after the long silence that had followed his statement: I want to get to know you better.
Hound radioed Sunstreaker; the channel had already been opened, after all. “Thank you. This is nice.”
Sunstreaker made a sort of grunting noise in reply. A second later, he tacked on a verbal recognition of the sentiment: “Yeah. ...Thanks.”
“No problem,” and then the line went quiet for a while.
...Sunstreaker really had slowed himself down. He was letting Hound set the pace, even though he was in the lead-when he got too far ahead he slowed down a little, until Hound drew closer.
So the twins were hanging around more. In little ways. Hound just-saw them more. Interacted more. When it came to Sunstreaker, especially-and sometimes he was even decent. It was...odd. Not in a bad way. It just wasn't...
Normal.
But Hound was adapting. He was good at that.
Sideswipe, at least, had insinuated himself into his life fairly naturally. Subtly, even, which was something of a surprise. And that made Sunstreaker's presence a little more normal, too, because where Sideswipe went, Sunstreaker followed, and vice versa.
They'd ask him to watch a movie, sometimes, when they were off-shift. Or Sideswipe would try and talk him into doing something ridiculous-“Hey, Hound, let's try-” “No.”-and Hound would refuse, usually good-naturedly, because there wasn't the usual pressure there. A lot of the threat had gone away, or at least some of it had-or it was just possible that Hound was getting used to it.
Or at least, he was less on edge about it. When he thought about what was happening, with the twins and his life-
-Well, it made him a bit uneasy. For reasons he couldn't quite explain.
The shifts had changed again, but Hound was still assigned with Sunstreaker. He was surprised, in a way, to find out that he didn't mind. Things had...relaxed, between them. There were worse partners-Hound considered Cliffjumper a friend but hated working with him, since he had a knack for creating situations that blew up in his face, sometimes literally; and working with Huffer was a nightmare situation-and Hound even enjoyed himself, especially on the good days. But the fact that there were good days at all meant that there were bad days, and that was-abnormal. Not in a good, acceptable way, the way Hound was abnormal, or Prowl or Perceptor or most of the others on the team. And everyone had bad days, in a different sense, but they weren't supposed to make you a threat (was he really a threat? How bad did his temper need to get before Hound needed to worry?) and they weren't supposed to happen in almost equal measure to the good days.
Now they were assigned to guarding supply runs, not something Hound was usually assigned to but a fairly normal shift for Sunstreaker, who tended to get given the jobs that were out of the Ark and away from humans and large groups of other mechs. It wasn't bad at all. Hound liked the chance to get out and drive, and Sunstreaker-he really wasn't bad company. Even on the days when he was angry or irritable or upset or whatever it was that set him off-Hound was starting to adjust to that. Was it just familiarity? Did he really not feel threatened? Should he feel threatened? Hound didn't know...
But reality was what it was, and Hound was out with Sunstreaker and enjoying himself and not afraid, or even mildly concerned, at all. It was a nice day, and Sideswipe had decided to come with them, since he had nothing else to do. That-wasn't really a problem, either, Hound realized. He'd never gotten along well with the red twin, although he'd been more comfortable with him than he had been with Sunstreaker, but some of that had faded, too. Just like he no longer feared Sunstreaker. Their baffling conversation in the woods still echoed through his mind: I-didn't know. That, ah, you were trying to make friends?
And then Sunstreaker's reaction to that. Or non-reaction. He hadn't denied it. He...he really was.
Hound was jolted back to reality as Sideswipe's radio crackled: We're going too slow, you guys, he whined. Come on!
He was about to speak up-'this speed is comfortable for me, but you two could go on ahead'-but Sunstreaker radioed as well, keeping to the public line that Sideswipe had used, before he could.
Shut up, slagger. This is fine.
Hound just didn't know what to say to that. Neither did Sideswipe, apparently, and that was saying something.
He knew he had to be going too slow for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both-it had to be driving them crazy, knowing the two as he did. Sideswipe, absolutely, he'd so much as said so. There were simply inherent differences in their build and make, things that stemmed from something has inherent as their original design, what they had been made to be. Hound wasn't fast.
He could speed up a little, though. He did that, wordlessly, and as he passed Sunstreaker-who would pass him in turn in a minute or two, not content to follow-he radioed a single, private message as he went past.
Thank you.
There was no reply, but he hadn't been expecting one. And that was okay too.
Another battle.
They hadn't had any advance warning, but it could have been worse-at least most mechs were on-base when the call came in. Another power plant was being attacked, one that had been experimenting with a new way to collect solar energy. Just the sort of project that was likely to bring the Decepticons out of the woodwork.
Hound found himself behind Ironhide as they sped down the road-it could have been worse company. He was quiet, at least. Hound tried to keep to himself right before a battle, centering himself, steadying his nerves. Preparing. Everyone had their own way of dealing-Optimus became very serious, Jazz started treating everything like a joke, Sunstreaker was even more volatile than he usually was. Hound just-became a little withdrawn.
They heard the battle before they arrived, of course. The humans hadn't been able to put on much of fight, not without military backup, but the Aerialbots had arrived ahead of the land-bound main force.
And then it was chaos.
Hound had found a little cover, and he was taking pot shots at the Decepticons when he saw Ratchet plunge into the thick of things and not come out. Ordinarily, he wouldn't worry, and their medic was a capable mech in a fight, but he was also responsible for emergency treatment-
He went in after him.
It was easy to find him, alternately trying to patch a gaping wound in Cliffjumper's chest-while arguing with the mech, of course-and taking shots at the Decepticons. Hound jumped in to give them a little more protection-they weren't in the thick of things, but another mech made a difference.
Hound took a shot to one shoulder. It wasn't anything bad-he had armor for a reason-and the angle had been off, which helped. In the dizzy, half-unreal, slowed-time blur of battle programming, he hardly felt the wound: it certainly wasn't anything to worry about, so he was confused when Sunstreaker fought his way to Hound's side, Sideswipe following him from a slight difference.
“You okay?” shouted Sunstreaker, energon (from others) trickling down his arms and more (maybe his own) running down the side of his face.
“Of course,” Hound called back a few minutes later, when another lull in the fight let him. “I'm fine!” Of course he was, and why was Sunstreaker asking? Regardless of whether or not he cared, Hound's wound wasn't serious by anyone's standards, let alone those of a front-line fighter known for his brutality.
The next time he looked around, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were gone again, and Hound didn't have time to think about them anymore-not until later, after the battle was over. Even still, it had been bizarre-strange.
Another 'Con was shooting at him and Hound dove for cover.
There would be time to think later.
Hound had been looked over, perfunctorily, by Ratchet, and then been told to wait until morning. It really had been almost nothing, the damage superficial, largely cosmetic-the blast had hit just wrong, apparently.
He'd almost gone straight to his quarters, but the need for energon had convinced him not to. The rec room had a handful of mechs in it, but the attitude was subdued, exhausted: technically, they had won the battle, but it hadn't come easy. There were at least two or three mechs in emergency surgery, and they were still coming up with the human death toll, but it had been high. Too high. Hound got his energon and sat at an otherwise empty table, drinking quickly.
Sideswipe passed Hound as he left, making his own way into the rec room as he left. He nodded at him as he passed, because it never hurt to be friendly.
The red Lamborghini turned to follow him after a few halting steps through the door, away from him. Hound didn't notice at first, didn't realize that he'd been followed at all until he was almost to his quarters, when the mech finally sped up a little to pull even, falling into step behind him. He was maybe standing a little too close, but it was nothing extreme, or even particularly noticeable. Hound chalked it up to it being Sideswipe, who was often a little-unsettling.
“How are you?” Hound asked, a little belatedly, because something needed to be said.
“Fine,” Sideswipe said airily, not bothering to even explain away the fresh weldmarks along one side. “What about you?”
“No real damage,” Hound said. “I'll be checking into the med bay tomorrow, but it's nothing serious. How's Sunstreaker?”
“He'll be out from under Ratchet's tender care by tomorrow,” Sideswipe said, shrugging. “Nothing bad. Hey, you doing anything tonight?” he flashed a dazzling grin.
“Recharging,” Hound replied, tensing a little. The implications...
“Oh, you're boring,” Sideswipe said, drawing out the final word. “We could try something else.”
Hound started-embarrassingly-at the feel of fingers against his side, pressing firmly into the metal. Sideswipe, who was apparently very cohesive, personality-wise, even when he was trying to seduce someone, snickered loudly.
“No, thank you,” Hound said, firmly. Sideswipe, to his credit, eased up a little, although he remained too close for comfort.
They reached Hound's door. He typed in the keycode, and the door swished open. He paused, but Sideswipe just stepped a little closer, not taking the hint.
“You're sure?” Sideswipe asked, one final time. “What about later-a little tactile stimulation between friends?”
“No,” Hound said, needlessly rude-it was a fair question, after all. He was kind of a prude, when it came to physical closeness-but he was exhausted, and he didn't have time to figure out what, exactly, Sideswipe-and maybe Sunstreaker, Primus-was up to, and what was meant-
“Okay, okay,” Sideswipe said, backing up a little, hands going up defensively. His expression was amused, light, but there was-something, in his eyes. “I'll see you later, then.”
“Goodbye,” Hound said, and he said it as warmly as he could while remaining firmly unseductive: he had been unkind, and he really didn't mean his refusal offensively-it wasn't (entirely) that he didn't like Sideswipe, because really, he was getting almost used to him, it was just that he wasn't the type...
The smile Sideswipe gave him in return was unexpectedly-soft. Kind.
...At least it didn't look like he was going to hold a grudge.
It seemed like his life was going to keep on getting more and more complicated. In unexpected ways. He didn't know what to think of that.
--End chapter 4--
By Dreaming of Everything/dreams_of_all/dream_it_all.
Series: Transformers (G1)
Pairings/Characters: HoundxTwins (starting with HoundxSunstreaker, so bear with me here.) Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, others.
Ratings/Warnings: T for safety so far, some of the later chapters jumping to M for mech/mech(/mech). Technically slash. Psuedo-incestuous. Threesome, both as a relationship and in sex scenes.
Summary: G1. Hound's realized Sunstreaker is watching him, which is kind of unnerving, really. Sunstreaker is convinced he wants absolutely positively nothing to do with Hound. Sideswipe's amused. Bumblebee's bemused. Everyone else is clueless--so far, at least. Love is not an easy thing.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to my incomparable beta, mmouse15! Further thanks to the wonderful anon_decepticon for her help with this chapter!
I also know that it's been a long time (as in nine months) since I've updated, and I'm very, very sorry about that! I seriously had it almost finished six or seven months ago-it was just the last three sections that gave me hell, which is where anon_decepticon comes in. Thank you for your patience, everyone, and I promise that this is never going to happen again, come hell or high water.
Chapter 1: Absolutely Not in Love
Chapter 2: Personality Conflicts
Chapter 3: In the Dark
Chapter 4: Little Details
Chapter 5: Patience
Chapter 6: Helplessly
FFnet link
Difficult Things: Little Details
Sideswipe was worried. More than he usually was. Because Hound-he was getting to be almost as bad as Sunstreaker, what was with the mech to make him the one most important outside influence in their lives for months at a time?-Hound was talking to Sunstreaker some, and they were getting along, kind of, but-
Hound would say hello to Sunstreaker, but it was a reserved hello. They talked a little on patrol, but it was always about inconsequentials, never even about anything that Hound was particularly interested in. Or anything that Sunstreaker was interested in, but that was a different matter. Even when he chatted with Sunny outside of patrols, it was different from how he interacted with his friends. Because, Sideswipe was pretty sure, Hound didn't see Sunstreaker as a friend at all. When he was with Trailbreaker, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, even Tracks, he was relaxed, open, even chatty-he was friendly. He joked around a lot, always had something to talk about.
And he was more open about talking with Sunstreaker, and a slagging lot better than most mechs on the Ark were at all, but he was still not comfortable with him. With them, really, because Sideswipe was pretty sure that Hound didn't like him much more than he liked his twin-he wasn't sure whether that was good (because it meant he kept aware, and that it wasn't just Sunstreaker) or bad (because that wasn't going to make anything any easier.)
The thing was, Sunstreaker picked up on some of that, but not all of it. More to the point, he didn't know how to do anything about it. He had absolutely no talent when it came to making friends, or even when it came to making himself seem inoffensive. And he was kind of a social failure. He didn't get interactions between mechs that weren't Sideswipe and himself. That was mostly because he didn't care, and never really had, certainly not in a long, long time-but it wasn't that entirely. It was partly because he was inexperienced, and because he just-he just didn't work that way. And it was okay, usually, but Sideswipe-yeah, he was worried.
Hound was nervous. Confused, maybe. Sideswipe was pretty good at reading people, and he'd been paying attention. And what he'd seen scared him, honestly. Because somebody was going to end up hurting, if something didn't change, and physically it might be Hound, but emotionally-
Emotionally, it was going to be Sunstreaker. And Ratchet wouldn't be able to put him back together. Hell, the medic-everyone-was going to be furious with him if something did go wrong. Because knowing Sunny, he'd take it out of someone's hide, and it would probably be Hound's.
Hound had been watching a pair of rabbits, but he wasn't so preoccupied that he didn't notice Sunstreaker's arrival.
“Hello,” he said, distractedly, as the other mech drew nearer. He thought he should maybe say something else, but he didn't know what-it wasn't like Sunstreaker had any interest in organic wildlife. And he couldn't even begin to guess why he'd sought him out in the first place at all.
“Hey,” muttered Sunstreaker, which was actually a pretty nice greeting for him, Hound was learning. He...really didn't seem big on pleasantries, or social niceties.
At all. To put it mildly.
...But he seemed to be trying...
There were a few minutes of silence. After a while, a hawk appeared, and the rabbits bolted for their burrows. Hound turned away with a sigh (after a few quick image captures of the hawk, he wanted to look up what kind it was) and faced Sunstreaker instead. He was a little surprised to find the warrior studying him with surprising intensity. Maybe more surprising was the utter lack of aggression in the look.
The lack of aggression assuming that Hound was reading him right. Which wasn't necessarily true. But it seemed likely...Hound was getting to know Sunstreaker. He was unbalanced, yes, but not to the point where he had strikingly different body language, different ways to give nonverbal threats; no, Sunstreaker wasn't that crazy. And he was surprisingly honest-although Hound wasn't sure why that was a surprise. Either way, whatever he was feeling seemed to show on his face. It was just that whatever he was feeling was, usually, angry.
“I was looking at some rabbits,” offered Hound, because he needed to say something. Predictably, a look of irritation flashed across Sunstreaker's face. He really, really didn't care at all, and he knew that Hound knew that. Which was fair-everyone had different tastes, and Hound's were somewhat unusual, even for an Autobot.
“...I wanted to see what you were doing,” offered Sunstreaker after a short pause, somewhat moodily.
That was a-surprise. To put it very, very slightly.
Hound was shocked, and unsure. He didn't know how to respond, but-
Honesty was usually the best policy. So was the straight-forward approach. “Why?” he asked, voice open, honest.
“I want-to get to know you better?” hazarded Sunstreaker, looking and sounding like he knew even less than Hound did. He also looked surprised, actually, which Hound kind of appreciated. At least it meant that he wasn't alone.
The silence that followed dragged on so long that even Sunstreaker knew that something was wrong.
He stood, roughly, and turned, pretty face twisted and contorted with warring anger, embarrassment and loss, all combining into something that looked, at least, only like fury, but Hound stuck out an unexpected hand, grabbing gently at Sunstreaker's leg, the only thing he could still reach the way they were positioned: Sunstreaker striding away, shoulders set, and Hound on the ground, half-twisted around.
“Wait,” Hound said, surprising himself this time. It was just a day for them, surprises, he guessed-
Sunstreaker did stop, although he didn't turn to face the other mech. He was torn, conflicted, and it was obvious, in his posture and, Hound was pretty sure, in his expression, too-he wasn't very good about hiding his emotions, sometimes.
“I-didn't know. That, ah, you were trying to make friends?” The statement became a question, because Hound really wasn't sure-well, that was the only logical answer as to what Sunstreaker had said, but he was also pretty confident that there was at least a chance that he would take exception to that actually being said, in so many words.
Sunstreaker didn't react, though. Which was also a surprise. Like he'd thought: it was a day full of them. Maybe too full.
“With me, at least. But I guess-I should have. So I'm sorry for that? You don't need a reason to track me down.”
There was no verbal response, but Sunstreaker relaxed a little, although something-probably pride-kept him from turning around to face Hound again.
“So-now that you've...found me...
“Do you want to do something this afternoon before our shift starts?”
“We could go for a drive?” Sunstreaker said, sounding hesitant as he spoke up. But maybe hopeful, too, in his own strange way.
“...I won't be able to keep up with you.” That was the pure, unvarnished truth. Over really rough terrain, maybe Hound would have the advantage, but on any road-he had no hope in hell. He was fine with that, but Sunstreaker, on the other hand-and if he'd wanted to do something together, having three miles distance between them because he was just too fast for Hound, then-
“...I can slow down?”
Hound smiled, slowly. “Alright,” he said. “That sounds-good.” Surprisingly, it really did. Or at least, it sounded acceptable enough, for an afternoon off; or, no, something more than that. “Let's go, then?”
Hound was keeping up a pretty good pace, for him, and it was nice to just get out and move, with no further purpose.
Sunstreaker was radioing him. “You're not too slow,” he admitted, and his tone almost made it a compliment instead of an insult.
...Sunstreaker wasn't a bad partner for this sort of thing. Even with his offer to slow himself down, Hound-Hound hadn't expected him to actually do so. That made him feel bad, a little guilty-the mech was reaching out to him, he could at least have the decency to have a little faith in him. So it was Sunstreaker, widely accepted to be one of the most dangerous mechs on the Ark, for Autobots as well as Decepticons, so what? But...
...Wouldn't it be hard to live with that kind of reputation?
So maybe he was at fault, too. Hound prided himself on being a good mech-friendly, reliable, he liked to be there for his friends, his team-and, well, he'd failed himself, maybe. He owed it to Sunstreaker to at least consider the possibility that he was sincere. It...might even explain something. Maybe.
The other side of the equation was that Sunstreaker had earned his reputation. It hadn't been thrust upon him, with no provocation. The Autobots were highly accepting of quirks (oh yes) and people were allowed to prove themselves when they arrived. The twins were no exception. They'd definitely proved themselves. Proved something, at least.
Sunstreaker had looked vulnerable when he'd turned to leave, after the long silence that had followed his statement: I want to get to know you better.
Hound radioed Sunstreaker; the channel had already been opened, after all. “Thank you. This is nice.”
Sunstreaker made a sort of grunting noise in reply. A second later, he tacked on a verbal recognition of the sentiment: “Yeah. ...Thanks.”
“No problem,” and then the line went quiet for a while.
...Sunstreaker really had slowed himself down. He was letting Hound set the pace, even though he was in the lead-when he got too far ahead he slowed down a little, until Hound drew closer.
So the twins were hanging around more. In little ways. Hound just-saw them more. Interacted more. When it came to Sunstreaker, especially-and sometimes he was even decent. It was...odd. Not in a bad way. It just wasn't...
Normal.
But Hound was adapting. He was good at that.
Sideswipe, at least, had insinuated himself into his life fairly naturally. Subtly, even, which was something of a surprise. And that made Sunstreaker's presence a little more normal, too, because where Sideswipe went, Sunstreaker followed, and vice versa.
They'd ask him to watch a movie, sometimes, when they were off-shift. Or Sideswipe would try and talk him into doing something ridiculous-“Hey, Hound, let's try-” “No.”-and Hound would refuse, usually good-naturedly, because there wasn't the usual pressure there. A lot of the threat had gone away, or at least some of it had-or it was just possible that Hound was getting used to it.
Or at least, he was less on edge about it. When he thought about what was happening, with the twins and his life-
-Well, it made him a bit uneasy. For reasons he couldn't quite explain.
The shifts had changed again, but Hound was still assigned with Sunstreaker. He was surprised, in a way, to find out that he didn't mind. Things had...relaxed, between them. There were worse partners-Hound considered Cliffjumper a friend but hated working with him, since he had a knack for creating situations that blew up in his face, sometimes literally; and working with Huffer was a nightmare situation-and Hound even enjoyed himself, especially on the good days. But the fact that there were good days at all meant that there were bad days, and that was-abnormal. Not in a good, acceptable way, the way Hound was abnormal, or Prowl or Perceptor or most of the others on the team. And everyone had bad days, in a different sense, but they weren't supposed to make you a threat (was he really a threat? How bad did his temper need to get before Hound needed to worry?) and they weren't supposed to happen in almost equal measure to the good days.
Now they were assigned to guarding supply runs, not something Hound was usually assigned to but a fairly normal shift for Sunstreaker, who tended to get given the jobs that were out of the Ark and away from humans and large groups of other mechs. It wasn't bad at all. Hound liked the chance to get out and drive, and Sunstreaker-he really wasn't bad company. Even on the days when he was angry or irritable or upset or whatever it was that set him off-Hound was starting to adjust to that. Was it just familiarity? Did he really not feel threatened? Should he feel threatened? Hound didn't know...
But reality was what it was, and Hound was out with Sunstreaker and enjoying himself and not afraid, or even mildly concerned, at all. It was a nice day, and Sideswipe had decided to come with them, since he had nothing else to do. That-wasn't really a problem, either, Hound realized. He'd never gotten along well with the red twin, although he'd been more comfortable with him than he had been with Sunstreaker, but some of that had faded, too. Just like he no longer feared Sunstreaker. Their baffling conversation in the woods still echoed through his mind: I-didn't know. That, ah, you were trying to make friends?
And then Sunstreaker's reaction to that. Or non-reaction. He hadn't denied it. He...he really was.
Hound was jolted back to reality as Sideswipe's radio crackled: We're going too slow, you guys, he whined. Come on!
He was about to speak up-'this speed is comfortable for me, but you two could go on ahead'-but Sunstreaker radioed as well, keeping to the public line that Sideswipe had used, before he could.
Shut up, slagger. This is fine.
Hound just didn't know what to say to that. Neither did Sideswipe, apparently, and that was saying something.
He knew he had to be going too slow for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both-it had to be driving them crazy, knowing the two as he did. Sideswipe, absolutely, he'd so much as said so. There were simply inherent differences in their build and make, things that stemmed from something has inherent as their original design, what they had been made to be. Hound wasn't fast.
He could speed up a little, though. He did that, wordlessly, and as he passed Sunstreaker-who would pass him in turn in a minute or two, not content to follow-he radioed a single, private message as he went past.
Thank you.
There was no reply, but he hadn't been expecting one. And that was okay too.
Another battle.
They hadn't had any advance warning, but it could have been worse-at least most mechs were on-base when the call came in. Another power plant was being attacked, one that had been experimenting with a new way to collect solar energy. Just the sort of project that was likely to bring the Decepticons out of the woodwork.
Hound found himself behind Ironhide as they sped down the road-it could have been worse company. He was quiet, at least. Hound tried to keep to himself right before a battle, centering himself, steadying his nerves. Preparing. Everyone had their own way of dealing-Optimus became very serious, Jazz started treating everything like a joke, Sunstreaker was even more volatile than he usually was. Hound just-became a little withdrawn.
They heard the battle before they arrived, of course. The humans hadn't been able to put on much of fight, not without military backup, but the Aerialbots had arrived ahead of the land-bound main force.
And then it was chaos.
Hound had found a little cover, and he was taking pot shots at the Decepticons when he saw Ratchet plunge into the thick of things and not come out. Ordinarily, he wouldn't worry, and their medic was a capable mech in a fight, but he was also responsible for emergency treatment-
He went in after him.
It was easy to find him, alternately trying to patch a gaping wound in Cliffjumper's chest-while arguing with the mech, of course-and taking shots at the Decepticons. Hound jumped in to give them a little more protection-they weren't in the thick of things, but another mech made a difference.
Hound took a shot to one shoulder. It wasn't anything bad-he had armor for a reason-and the angle had been off, which helped. In the dizzy, half-unreal, slowed-time blur of battle programming, he hardly felt the wound: it certainly wasn't anything to worry about, so he was confused when Sunstreaker fought his way to Hound's side, Sideswipe following him from a slight difference.
“You okay?” shouted Sunstreaker, energon (from others) trickling down his arms and more (maybe his own) running down the side of his face.
“Of course,” Hound called back a few minutes later, when another lull in the fight let him. “I'm fine!” Of course he was, and why was Sunstreaker asking? Regardless of whether or not he cared, Hound's wound wasn't serious by anyone's standards, let alone those of a front-line fighter known for his brutality.
The next time he looked around, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were gone again, and Hound didn't have time to think about them anymore-not until later, after the battle was over. Even still, it had been bizarre-strange.
Another 'Con was shooting at him and Hound dove for cover.
There would be time to think later.
Hound had been looked over, perfunctorily, by Ratchet, and then been told to wait until morning. It really had been almost nothing, the damage superficial, largely cosmetic-the blast had hit just wrong, apparently.
He'd almost gone straight to his quarters, but the need for energon had convinced him not to. The rec room had a handful of mechs in it, but the attitude was subdued, exhausted: technically, they had won the battle, but it hadn't come easy. There were at least two or three mechs in emergency surgery, and they were still coming up with the human death toll, but it had been high. Too high. Hound got his energon and sat at an otherwise empty table, drinking quickly.
Sideswipe passed Hound as he left, making his own way into the rec room as he left. He nodded at him as he passed, because it never hurt to be friendly.
The red Lamborghini turned to follow him after a few halting steps through the door, away from him. Hound didn't notice at first, didn't realize that he'd been followed at all until he was almost to his quarters, when the mech finally sped up a little to pull even, falling into step behind him. He was maybe standing a little too close, but it was nothing extreme, or even particularly noticeable. Hound chalked it up to it being Sideswipe, who was often a little-unsettling.
“How are you?” Hound asked, a little belatedly, because something needed to be said.
“Fine,” Sideswipe said airily, not bothering to even explain away the fresh weldmarks along one side. “What about you?”
“No real damage,” Hound said. “I'll be checking into the med bay tomorrow, but it's nothing serious. How's Sunstreaker?”
“He'll be out from under Ratchet's tender care by tomorrow,” Sideswipe said, shrugging. “Nothing bad. Hey, you doing anything tonight?” he flashed a dazzling grin.
“Recharging,” Hound replied, tensing a little. The implications...
“Oh, you're boring,” Sideswipe said, drawing out the final word. “We could try something else.”
Hound started-embarrassingly-at the feel of fingers against his side, pressing firmly into the metal. Sideswipe, who was apparently very cohesive, personality-wise, even when he was trying to seduce someone, snickered loudly.
“No, thank you,” Hound said, firmly. Sideswipe, to his credit, eased up a little, although he remained too close for comfort.
They reached Hound's door. He typed in the keycode, and the door swished open. He paused, but Sideswipe just stepped a little closer, not taking the hint.
“You're sure?” Sideswipe asked, one final time. “What about later-a little tactile stimulation between friends?”
“No,” Hound said, needlessly rude-it was a fair question, after all. He was kind of a prude, when it came to physical closeness-but he was exhausted, and he didn't have time to figure out what, exactly, Sideswipe-and maybe Sunstreaker, Primus-was up to, and what was meant-
“Okay, okay,” Sideswipe said, backing up a little, hands going up defensively. His expression was amused, light, but there was-something, in his eyes. “I'll see you later, then.”
“Goodbye,” Hound said, and he said it as warmly as he could while remaining firmly unseductive: he had been unkind, and he really didn't mean his refusal offensively-it wasn't (entirely) that he didn't like Sideswipe, because really, he was getting almost used to him, it was just that he wasn't the type...
The smile Sideswipe gave him in return was unexpectedly-soft. Kind.
...At least it didn't look like he was going to hold a grudge.
It seemed like his life was going to keep on getting more and more complicated. In unexpected ways. He didn't know what to think of that.
--End chapter 4--