The Five Times... 1/6
So finally got myself a bunny and decided to try my hand at this pairing...
Pairing/Characters: Mirage/First Aid, Jazz
Rating: PG
Warnings: mech/mech crushes. fluff
Summary: First Aid discovers he has a li'l crush on Mirage. Will he act on it? And how does Mirage feel?
Thanks to laratron for being my sounding board <3 and also dedicating this to eerian_sadow as a late b'day present.
The First Time
The first time he realized there was something off was when Jazz dragged the half-battered spy into the med-bay. He didn’t know why, but when he looked up and saw the blue-and-white standing there and holding on to the Ops commander, he felt his spark give a twitch, and not because of his injuries.
“Oh, Mirage, what happened?” he asked since the mech was still conscious, as he ran to get a table ready.
The spy gave a bit of a wry smile. “It looks worse than it is, First Aid.” He ignored the snort Jazz gave. “Just caught the wrong end of a missile blast.”
“Doncha love how he’s all nonchalant about it?” Jazz asked as he helped First Aid get him up on to the table, giving his subordinate a pointed look when he winced.
“Some would call it professionalism,” First Aid said with a chuckle as he scanned and assessed the damage.
“I call it bein’ too stupid t’know when to retreat.” The black-and-white crossed his arms. “I shouldn’t have to tell ya by now ‘Raj, that when I say ‘back down’, I really do mean ‘back down’.”
Mirage had the sense to look sheepish, and turned his glance on First Aid. “I know.”
First Aid felt his cheeks warm slightly beneath his face-mask. He patted Mirage’s hand and went to fetch his tools. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly.
“I don’t have room in my team for heroes,” Jazz told the spy meanwhile. “I don’t need heroes, I need bots I can trust who I know will follow a command when it’s given. You still that mech, Raj?”
Mirage ticked his glance away from the young medic to look at his commander. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jazz, it won’t happen again.”
“Fraggin’ right it won’t.”
First Aid winced at the tone of Jazz’s voice, devoid of its usual friendliness, as he came back and started to cut away some of the damaged armour. “Does it hurt?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if he meant the cutting or Jazz’s words.
“No,” Mirage replied, also unclear as to what he was replying to.
Jazz watched him work for a little while. First Aid suspected it was to make sure Mirage would be okay, but figured he was also deciding whether or not he had lectured the spy enough. “How long’s he gonna be out?”
The young medic yanked a stubborn panel out. “A couple of days perhaps. He’s got a few ruptured lines, but I’m seeing mostly organic debris rather than metallic shrapnel. The rest is just surface damage. It shouldn’t take long to close the lines, clean out the wounds and replace the panelling. Then he just needs a day or two to rest.”
The saboteur nodded. “Do what y’can Aid, thank you.” He looked at Mirage. “And you kindly do what the medic says and be lucky I ain’t suspendin’ your aft.” He turned and left the med-bay.
First Aid watched him go, then turned back to his work on Mirage’s side. For a while he worked in silence removing the rest of the ruined panelling so he could get at the spy’s internal damage. He felt a little uncomfortable after witnessing that exchange, and he wasn’t sure what to say to Mirage to make him feel better. He didn’t know what had happened in the field after all, and he didn’t want to undermine Jazz’s authority by trying to brush his words off.
“His bark’s worse than his bite,” Mirage said at last, causing First Aid to jerk his head up. “He’s just worried, that’s all. Don’t be afraid.” He placed a hand on the medic’s shoulder.
“What happened out there?” First Aid tried to ignore the tingle.
Mirage removed his hand. “The missile was going for him. I… stepped in. The trees took most of the brunt though.” He smiled a little at the medic. “He just knows what a pain in the aft it’ll be to train a new spy from scratch.”
“Oh… I see.” The younger mech paused in his work and looked at him. “I guess he’s a little justified to yell at you then.” There was a little smile in his voice that he knew Mirage would pick up on.
“Just a little.” Mirage reached and took the stained hand. “Thanks. I’m kind of glad it’s you and not Ratchet here today.”
First Aid’s cheeks heated up a little more and he was very glad for his face-mask and visor. “Y-you are?” He felt the spy’s thumb brush over the back of his fingers and stifled a bit of a shiver.
“Certainly,” Mirage replied. “You have a much better bedside manner.”
The words hung in the air for a moment while their optics met for a brief moment. First Aid wondered for a minute if Mirage could read through the literal and figurative mask. He wanted to hope but… this was Mirage. The mech was a former Towers bot, and from what he’d heard of that particular kind… they didn’t do relationships.
Sure, Mirage didn’t seem like that kind of mech, but he didn’t think he’d like to be just a fling. Besides, it was just a crush, wasn’t it? Crushes were just fleeting, passing phases that he would grow out of, so why jeopardize a perfectly good working relationship with complications?
Carefully he extracted his hand and picked up his welder. “You should lie back and try to rest while I repair all this. I promise it won’t hurt.”
Mirage looked at him a moment longer, then did as he asked. “I know it won’t. I trust you, Aid.”
First Aid wasn’t sure why he thought he picked up a double meaning to the spy’s words. He bent over the damage and got to work sealing and cleaning the wounds, listening to the mech slip into a light recharge. Now and then he paused and looked over at him. The blue-and-white’s gentle features and mannerisms were endearing, but…
No, he couldn’t risk it. He turned back to his work again. After all, it was just a passing crush… wasn’t it? Yes, just a crush.
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