This time he was ready. Almost. The memory wasn't completely immersive. Metroplex held back from him the most alien data, the everyday experience of what it was to be a cityformer, and gave him the bare details. Octane's swagger as he approached one of the tertiary control panels; the insistent tingle of his energy field; his teasing, charismatic banter.
His invitation had been simple, and he took the rejection well. A shrug, an easy-going smile. He seemed a little disappointed, but he didn't press his case. He did proposition each one of the drones separately, though, and he bounced back from each new denial without so much as a dent to his happy-go-lucky horny enthusiasm.
"It was awkward," Metroplex commented.
"But it went smoothly," First Aid said. "You handled it very well."
"Perhaps. But he is... distracting. Still."
First Aid nodded. He sent those calm, soothing impulses along the connection, letting Metroplex know that he needed a while to think. Over by the door, Scamper folded his arms across his chest and waited.
"I..." Metroplex bagan; the syllable hung. First Aid lifted his head, cut off mid-thought.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"I may have been too hasty in my assessment of him."
"What makes you think that?"
Now it was Metroplex's turn to pause. Scamper tapped his foot. "His former involvement with Trypticon," Metroplex admitted after a while. "It concerns me. But..."
"But you'd like to try anyway?" First Aid asked. Confirmation came as a series of instructions to his sensor net - the sensation of being hugged. First Aid smiled. "I say this as your friend," he said, "as well as your physician: there's no harm in trying. It will likely make his presence less distracting, and assist with your peace of mind."
"It would not be selfish?" From anyone else the question would have seemed disingenuous, less a genuine query than a demand for reassurance. But from Metroplex it was simply an innocent request for an honest answer.
And an honest answer was all First Aid was capable of giving. "No more so than any other exchange which benefits both parties," he said softly. "You know your limitations, and you know how to interface safely. You'll be fine."
"Thankyou," Metroplex said, then, "How do I raise this with him?"
First Aid thought of Octane's wanton flirting, and his obvious interest in everything and anything with a laser core. "Um," he said, "Directly? I really don't think that will be a problem."
Did I read this earlier without replying? Bad femme! I completely adore everything about this. The descriptions of Octane, the drones part in it all, the interaction with First Aid. In fact, I really think First Aid should also help scratch that itch, many many times.
I especially adored this line: Confirmation came as a series of instructions to his sensor net - the sensation of being hugged. D'awwwwwwww! The only way Metroplex can give hugs, other than via drones.
Also, how much do I love that Octane also propositioned the drones separately. <3
I'm so glad you like this! And yep, I'm totally in agreement that First Aid should help out with it.
Octane is a one-mech propositioning machine. Which makes me think that it would be hilarious to see him proposition someone he couldn't quite handle...
His invitation had been simple, and he took the rejection well. A shrug, an easy-going smile. He seemed a little disappointed, but he didn't press his case. He did proposition each one of the drones separately, though, and he bounced back from each new denial without so much as a dent to his happy-go-lucky horny enthusiasm.
"It was awkward," Metroplex commented.
"But it went smoothly," First Aid said. "You handled it very well."
"Perhaps. But he is... distracting. Still."
First Aid nodded. He sent those calm, soothing impulses along the connection, letting Metroplex know that he needed a while to think. Over by the door, Scamper folded his arms across his chest and waited.
"I..." Metroplex bagan; the syllable hung. First Aid lifted his head, cut off mid-thought.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"I may have been too hasty in my assessment of him."
"What makes you think that?"
Now it was Metroplex's turn to pause. Scamper tapped his foot. "His former involvement with Trypticon," Metroplex admitted after a while. "It concerns me. But..."
"But you'd like to try anyway?" First Aid asked. Confirmation came as a series of instructions to his sensor net - the sensation of being hugged. First Aid smiled. "I say this as your friend," he said, "as well as your physician: there's no harm in trying. It will likely make his presence less distracting, and assist with your peace of mind."
"It would not be selfish?" From anyone else the question would have seemed disingenuous, less a genuine query than a demand for reassurance. But from Metroplex it was simply an innocent request for an honest answer.
And an honest answer was all First Aid was capable of giving. "No more so than any other exchange which benefits both parties," he said softly. "You know your limitations, and you know how to interface safely. You'll be fine."
"Thankyou," Metroplex said, then, "How do I raise this with him?"
First Aid thought of Octane's wanton flirting, and his obvious interest in everything and anything with a laser core. "Um," he said, "Directly? I really don't think that will be a problem."
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I love Metroplex' awkwardness. He's never met anyone like Octane before!
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I especially adored this line:
Confirmation came as a series of instructions to his sensor net - the sensation of being hugged. D'awwwwwwww! The only way Metroplex can give hugs, other than via drones.
Also, how much do I love that Octane also propositioned the drones separately. <3
Reply
I'm so glad you like this! And yep, I'm totally in agreement that First Aid should help out with it.
Octane is a one-mech propositioning machine. Which makes me think that it would be hilarious to see him proposition someone he couldn't quite handle...
Reply
Also - First Aid so sweet and helpful <33
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I'm sure things will work out very well with Octane ;)
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