Regret, a Transformers G1 fic
Title: Regret
Universe: G1
Rating: T
Warnings: implied slash, unrequited love, angst, spoilers for the 1986 movie (is that really a warning after 25 years?)
Characters/Pairing: Red Alert, Prowl
Prompt: Nobody Knows
Summary: He should have said something before.
Notes: written for the June 2011 challenge at tf_rare_pairing. It’s a little late, but some stuff happened.
His hands were gentle and his touches careful as he cleaned away the evidence of the damage. They didn’t have the resources to patch the holes in the other mech’s plating the way they would have in the Golden Age, but supplies were so very limited and he was certain that Prowl wouldn’t be upset that practicality won out over vanity. Of all the mechs lost on the shuttle, only Ironhide was receiving any sort of vanity repairs before being interred, and only because none of the surviving Autobots could bear to see him sent to his final rest looking the way Megatron had left him.
But water was plentiful on Earth, and so he cleaned away the scorch marks and burned energon. Sunstreaker had given him a small container of polish, as well; a small token of how much the warrior had really liked the tactician after all. Prowl would be beautiful-to the best of his limited abilities anyway-when he was interred.
It was the only thing he could still do for the mech he had never been brave enough to admit to loving.
“Red? You need any help?”
Red Alert shook his head and continued cleaning away the char. “Thank you, Inferno, but I have this under control.”
“Sure, Red.” Inferno seemed to want to say more, but instead he turned and left the small workroom.
When his friend was gone, he rested his forehead against Prowl’s for a moment. “I should have said it before. And now you’ll never know.”
Universe: G1
Rating: T
Warnings: implied slash, unrequited love, angst, spoilers for the 1986 movie (is that really a warning after 25 years?)
Characters/Pairing: Red Alert, Prowl
Prompt: Nobody Knows
Summary: He should have said something before.
Notes: written for the June 2011 challenge at tf_rare_pairing. It’s a little late, but some stuff happened.
His hands were gentle and his touches careful as he cleaned away the evidence of the damage. They didn’t have the resources to patch the holes in the other mech’s plating the way they would have in the Golden Age, but supplies were so very limited and he was certain that Prowl wouldn’t be upset that practicality won out over vanity. Of all the mechs lost on the shuttle, only Ironhide was receiving any sort of vanity repairs before being interred, and only because none of the surviving Autobots could bear to see him sent to his final rest looking the way Megatron had left him.
But water was plentiful on Earth, and so he cleaned away the scorch marks and burned energon. Sunstreaker had given him a small container of polish, as well; a small token of how much the warrior had really liked the tactician after all. Prowl would be beautiful-to the best of his limited abilities anyway-when he was interred.
It was the only thing he could still do for the mech he had never been brave enough to admit to loving.
“Red? You need any help?”
Red Alert shook his head and continued cleaning away the char. “Thank you, Inferno, but I have this under control.”
“Sure, Red.” Inferno seemed to want to say more, but instead he turned and left the small workroom.
When his friend was gone, he rested his forehead against Prowl’s for a moment. “I should have said it before. And now you’ll never know.”