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2016-06-22 Fun Times

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Fun Times
Date 2016/06/22
Location Lost Light: Command -- Drift's Office
Participants Drift, Rodimus, Ultra Magnus
Summary Drift and Rodimus try to make Minimus have fun.

The door to Drift's office is closed but the sounds of music coming from behind it is a good indicator that he's inside. It's loud, poppy, and in a foreign language. It's anime music. He's listening to anime music.

"This is the part where you start using your hips," Drift explains as he demonstrates the ridiculous dance that goes along with the song for Rodimus. "Hip thrust, hip thrust, snap your fingers.. it looks complicated but it's actually really simple once you get the hang of it."

This is why Drift's bonsai is always doing so poorly: Rodimus leans back on the desk, where he's taken a seat, without any regard for anything that might be on its surface as he plants his elbows behind him. "No, you better show me again," he says with a wide, scrap-eating grin. "Just that part, right there. I got the first part." No, he didn't. And this is why he has yet to improve with a sword.

Minimus Ambus has been working.

Of note, Minimus Ambus has been working as Minimus Ambus. There's really no reason he requires a full set of armor to do logistical work. It took him a weirdly long time to leave his room this morning, the shell of the armor left behind to stand against the wall.

So it is that it after a full shift in his medium frame, he uses his access to the personnel information he's been working with as Soundwave's bridge aide to locate Drift and Rodimus. It's not really an abuse of power. It's totally need to know information. If he knew what they were doing in there, he probably wouldn't need to know. But still: he arrives. He raps quietly on the closed door, frowning a little to himself as he detects the bright, poppy Japanese music Drift is listening to. He's trying to figure out the song and its general placement in the extensive playlist Drift has provided him.

"Oh, you mean this part?" Drift does the hip thrusting part of the dance again, snapping his fingers at the end. "Did you get that? Maybe I should do it again." More hip thrusting and finger snapping follows and probably would go on for infinity if it weren't for the knock at his door. "Oh! I wonder if that's who I think it is." Drift says, throwing himself on top of his desk beside Rodimus so he can reach under it and hit the door control button. Yeah, he could've just walked over to the door and opened it that way but where's the fun in that? "Come in!"

"Yeah, good." Rodimus takes mental notes, watching closely, and only drags his gaze away when the door opens. His reflexive grin drops to fade into a warmer, true smile and then ramps right back to bright as he considers his medium size. He hops off the desk and crosses to the door in one half of a happy swarm: "Magnus!"

"Rodimus," Minimus says. "Drift." He stands there for a moment framed in the doorway as he looks up at him. He glances past Rodimus to Drift, considering him and his desk, and then looks back at Rodimus. For a moment, he looks like maybe he is reconsidering the wisdom of taking them both on at once, considering their relative energy levels and the fact that he is without his armor. Then, very slight, he smiles: it's there and gone again beneath his facial insignia, but warm and certain in its brief moment's existence all the same. "... Hello."

Drift makes a point to turn down his overly cheery music before joining Rodimus in mobbing Magnus the second he walks in. "Magnus! Hey!" He's abso-fucking-lutely delighted to have both Magnus and Rodimus here at the same time as evidenced by the ridiculous grin plastered on his face. "What's up? How've you been?

"Hi." With Drift there to help Rodimus set up the flank on Minimus, he is now trapped. There is no way to leave. The door closes behind him. T-r-a-p-p-e-d. He pauses, briefly, then asks, "You're off-shift, right? This isn't some official business thing or anything?" Then he looks between them and asks, "Or private business thing?" He doesn't leer. It takes effort.

Minimus Ambus scowls. Predictably. Lifting his chin slightly, he folds his hands in a prim clasp behind his back. Because scowling and standing in a modified parade rest is totally romantic, you guys. "No," he says. "I'm not officially anywhere at the moment." His helm's edge shifts up slightly. "I'm ... fine. How are you." This also doesn't sound super romantic by his slightly edgy tone, but then, this is a bot who has admitted aloud to counting small talk words up into the thousands waiting for them to end. And he did smile when he came in. Nothing is probably wrong.

"Still alive," Drift responds, gesturing to his body as if to demonstrate that fact. Considering how many attempts on his life have happened since he's been on the ship, it's worth mentioning. "So I can't complain." With Rodimus flanking Minimus, Drift approaches and essentially traps him between the two of them. "I'm glad you're here. Both of you! When was the last time we all got together like this and not had a crisis on our hands? It's nice, I'm loving it already!"

In that case, Rodimus reaches for Minimus to pull him over so he can drop a kiss on his helm and step back, leaning against Drift's side with a grin. "We should celebrate it. Do something fun." Then he stops, thinking very hard, and a bit bewildered, says, "What do we all even like doing?"

Humor narrows Minimus's eyes. As Rodimus leans up against Drift and lets him free of his cornering, he kind of moseys around, pacing on light steps to the side of the room so that he can find someplace to be that feels less ... sandwiched between them and the closed door. "I don't even know that word," he says. He eyes Drift's desk with some vague misgiving and then looks aside to contemplate others of his material things as he muses aloud: "Drift would apparently like a crisis, however."

Drift responds to Rodimus' lean with one of his own. If either of them move, they're both going to go tumbling onto the floor. "Woah, woah, I didn't say that! I'm perfectly fine with this crisis-less situation we're in now." His gaze follows Minimus as he moseys around, the grin never leaving his face. "Well, I can think of one thing we all seem to enjoy.." He looks at Rodimus and then at Minimus. "..You know."

Rodimus elbows Drift up from his lean, laughing. He trails after Minimus, reaching to wrap an arm around his waist and lean in again. "We don't need a crisis. That'd ruin all of the fun we have. Come on, just say the word."

Minimus permits Rodimus to draw him into the warmth of his arm, and then reaches up with his hands to slide his hands in a long glide from the small of his back to stop with a hard pressure at the central point of his spoiler. He says, "I have better words."

"I'm sure you do, but fun is a perfectly good word too." Drift grins and shrugs a shoulder. "I don't see what the big deal is about saying it. We've already seen you smile, you might as well add a 'fun' on top of that. If you're worried we're going to pass out from you saying it, I can assure you that we wont."

"What's a better word?" Rodimus asks, caught still between twin impulses: to draw closer against Minimus, and to lean back against the touch of his hand. Life is hard. "Drift, you hear this guy? He's acting like there's a better word than 'fun'." Regarding Minimus with a fond look, he says, "Persuade me."

Minimus says very gravely: "My favorite word for you is delight." He even goes on, a little as though he is fighting a war against native shyness and this is a siege tower he is building out of his own stuff. "I've used it before. I like the ... connotations. I... er." He loses some of his momentum as his gaze drops. His hands drop, too, but only so that he can twist them together in a constrained fidget, engine stuttering like it's coughing over a pothole in his way. He was hoping to get more out. It was too much sweetness at once; after a beat, he says: "My other favorite word for you is 'exasperating'." Because he still has a hard time saying obnoxious these days.

Drift watches the exchange with a cheeky grin, curious to see how Minimus intends to persuade Rodimus that there are indeed better words out there than fun. His grin changes into something warmer, a smile, when Minimus talks. "Aaawwwwwww!" he exclaims, hands on his face in a show of delight. "That's so sweet it's making my teeth hurt."

Rodimus looks a little thunderstruck, and only recovers as Minimus adds on exasperating. That was a tactical error. It gives Rodimus the chance to be like, "Exasperating? Exasperating? What -- what! -- that I ever do could possibly be exasperating?" Allow him to demonstrate: as he asks, he scoops Minimus up in the sweep of his arms to take the two steps back to Drift's side. "I'm sweet. See. Drift said I'm sweet. Right, Drift?" Not what Drift said. "Wait, do you have different words for Drift?" Possibly 'save' and 'me'?

"That is not what Drift said," Minimus Ambus tells Rodimus, all crisp and prim. But he makes no move to escape from the scoop of Rodimus's arms. He permits this relatively minor manhandling and lifts his hand again to set his hand to the small of Rodimus's back. He says, "Yes. I do." He looks up at Drift, his gaze narrowing. "I don't want to damage your teeth," he says. "My favorite word for you is wonder. In part because I wonder at you -- you baffle me." That's clearly not the teeth damaging part. "It ... evokes," he says. He struggles for a moment, trying to explain the reasons this should be sweet. "Faith," he says. "Joy. Things that are yours." He suddenly crankies, "I don't know." He's frustrated because he's so much better written down.

"You're a different kind of sweet. You're like 'woah, that backflip was so sweet, bro!' kind of sweet," Drift clarifies. This is probably more of a compliment to Rodimus than the actual definition would be. He looks at Minimus and gives him a smile, one that gets wider and wider with every word he uses to describe him. "Oh wow.." He leans over and bonks his head against Minimus', optics bright and filled with warmth. "You're good at this."

Rodimus beams. He does, in fact, seem even more pleased by this twist on sweet. THAT IS SUPER RAD. Leaving Minimus to stand (or flee) on his own again, Rodimus rests his arm across Minimus's shoulders. "No, no. You should definitely keep going," he encourages Minimus fairly shamelessly. "Don't get mad, talk it out. Tell me how great I am." Literal words he literally speaks.

Minimus makes a cranky noise, a low ground 'hrrf' in the depths of his frame. His body language is more receptive than his language; he bumps Drift's head with his, nosing at his cheek a little before he ducks his head away, and even still he leans into the warmth of Rodimus's arm. "You're a great, no, an enormous pain."

Drift seems pleased with Minimus' show of affection, as quick as it was. "Wow, did you hear that, Rodimus?" he asks, snaking an arm around his waist and drawing close to him. "You're better than great, you're enormous. Does Magnus have a way with words or what?"

"I think you're pretty cool too," Rodimus says with a depth of warm affection as Minimus insults him. He looks extremely pleased with himself. This may have something to do with all of the arms wrapped around each other. "Come on. I bet Magnus has totally written you stuff too, right? I want him to read it." Rodimus immediately turns to had for Drift's private quarters, dragging them both along behind.

"Rodimus!" Minimus yelps in apparent alarm. "No, I haven't! Not that he's seen, anyway -- Stop that!"

Drift offers no resistance to the dragging, though he does shoot Minimus a curious look. "Wait.. you've written stuff for me?" Sure, he got that hand-written note from him all that time ago (that he still keeps in his desk, by the way) but as far as he knew that was all there was. "Like what?"

Rodimus keeps dragging, right through, "What do you mean, not that he's seen?"

Speaking of tactical errors. Minimus Ambus opens his mouth and then closes his mouth. He gets all the balkier, drawing his hands away so that he can enfold his arms over his chest. He stands there, inside the privacy of Drift's actual private quarters, and looks around at nothing for a moment as he tries to figure out how to not answer that question. "Uhm."

Rodimus glances over at Drift and attempts to telepathically communicate with him. It doesn't work. But while he's staring at Drift, at least the pressure is off Mini-Magnus.

Drift is used to having Rodimus here in his room but Minimus? That's a completely new experience and he regrets not having a chance to tidy up before hand. He moves to his berth and moves the stack of anime DVDs sitting ontop of it to the side before dropping himself on top of it. He locks eyes with Rodimus, meeting his glance with a confused look. "Uhh...?"

Rodimus stares more intently. He still has not spontaneously developed any outlier telepathy.

"What-- Drift, that's a berth, not a storage compartment," Minimus says like he's going to distract them from his secret stash of words by critiquing the relative disorder of the room.

Drift looks even more confused when Rodimus continues staring at him. "I don't.. I don't understand what you're trying to do." He scoots further onto the berth until he can lean his back against the wall it's pushed up against. "It can be both! I mean, it's a pretty big berth and it's usually just me in here so..." He shakes his head. "Hold up! Don't try and change the subject, I want to know what you've been writing about me!"

Rodimus considers the span of the berth, then seats himself far enough away from Drift that there is really no room for Minimus but between them. He tugs on Minimus's hand. Come on. Come ooon. "I wanna know, too."

Resistant, Minimus stands there. He lets Rodimus tug on him, neither immediately yielding to gentle blandishment nor wrenching his hand away. He frowns. He mutters, "Nothing, it's not anything."

Drift holds his hands up in defeat. "Alright, you clearly don't want to talk about it so I'll let it drop." Maybe in time he will learn what sorts of things Minimus writes about him in, in the meantime all he can do is wildly imagine. "There's something else I want to know, though. Something that has been on my mind for a very long time.." He flops over onto his back and squirms his way over to the edge of the berth, staring upide down at Minimus. "Remember when I told you I was a better kisser than Rodimus?" Oh by the way, Rod, Drift said he was a better kisser. "Was I right?"

Turning his hand in Minimus's, Rodimus rubs his thumb over the side of his hand and then slips his fingers up to clasp his wrist so that he can inch him closer. He follows Drift's lead in letting it drop, easy-going right up until Drift WILDLY INSULTS HIM. "You WHAT?"

"Oh, no. Oh no, no. I'm definitely not answering that." Minimus Ambus rocks back on his heels shakes his head very firmly. "I'm sure that this is all meant as a-- venture to some kind of surely delightful kissing war game--" He gestures, animatedly dismissive with the cut of his hand through the air. Ultra Magnus, professional ruiner of jokes and destroyer of fun. "But if we're going to do anything like this I don't want-- any of this ... setting anybody against anybody else."

"Hey, I'm allowed to be better at things than you sometimes!" Drift says, flashing Rodimus a smug grin. It doesn't last long, Minimus' words causing him to frown and reconsider his words. "..Okay, that's fair." He flips over onto his chest and props his head up on an elbow. "I don't want any of that either."

Reaching forward, Rodimus inches his fingers up Minimus's hand from wrist to arm. His attempts to pull Minimus over are running into a small green wall. "Okay. No one's against anyone. Maybe just skip the war and stick with the game, huh?" He grins over at Drift: he points at him, thumbs down; he points at himself, thumbs up. Yes. No one is against anyone.

"Rodimus, I'm serious about this," Minimus tells Rodimus, as if there is anything in the universe that he isn't serious about. He reaches with his other hand to lay over Rodimus's climbing fingers. He removes it from his arm, but only to twine their fingers together. He turns in a kind of slow pirouette and finally sits between them. He says, "I don't think it's funny."

Finally! Now that Minimus has taken a seat, Drift can sidle up to him and get in that physical contact he so desperately craves. "I've never done this sort of thing before. It's been.. a long time since I've had a romantic partner. I've certainly never had multiple ones at once." He laughs nervously and bonks his head against Minimus' side. "So I'm speaking from a complete lack of experience here but.. I think fairness and equality is essential to making this work." He glances over at Rodimus. "I don't want any hurt feelings from anyone involved. I want us all to just.. be happy, you know? Be happy and enjoy each other."

"What? I said no war!" Rodimus all but quivers with happiness as Minimus finally slides between them. He immediately shifts, turning to face them both. "I am all about fairness and equality. That sounds super great. But what about maybe, you know. Not a who's better kind of thing. But maybe what you like more. Both of you. A what's fun thing. That's fair, right?"

Minimus gives Rodimus an oddly unhappy look. For mixed signals, probably, he squeezes their joined hands, and then looks down at his lap. Settled between them, with warm solidity at either side, he should really be relaxing already, but -- hasn't yet. The tension holds him still, settled across his shoulders with notable uncertainty. "No winning," he says. "No losing."

No winning, no losing. It's probably better this way considering how competitive Drift and Rodimus can get, no one wants to be subjected to a week long kissing contest. "I can work with that," Drift says, smiling at the both of them.

The unhappiness finally gets past Rodimus's cheer, muting him to something more attentive. "Okay, but what about fun?" Serious question. He has his serious face. He looks at Drift. He is SERIOUS about FUN.

Minimus chooses an egalitarian answer, apparently. He tilts into a lean to one side, toward Drift. He only has one hand free because he refuses to let go of Rodimus's clasp. He presses a kiss to his mouth. Shy. Uncertain. All those things his first fierce kiss wasn't. He draws back again, eyes fallen low, and then lets go Rodimus's hand so that he can reach for his face.

Drift's optics dim at the touch of lips against his, his engine giving a quick rev of approval. That was a good answer to that question! He plants one hand on the berth and the other on Minimus' thigh when he draws back, staring at him rather intensely and waiting for the opportunity to pursue another kiss. When it comes, his lips waste no time in seeking out Minimus'. At one point he flashes a quick look to Rodimus that best translates to 'holy shit bro, this is really happening!'

<FS3> Rodimus rolls Chirolinguistic: Success. (7 3 3)

HOLY SHIT BRO.

In the face of Minimus's shyness, Rodimus coaxes with a gentler touch, nosing the side of his helm as Drift claims his attention. He laces their fingers, pressing his palm to Minimus's palm, then writes, I'm delighted. Out loud, he says, "Hey, what if everyone wins?"

"That is acceptable," Minimus murmurs. He says nothing in the answering squeeze of his clasp of Rodimus's hand, except what might be read in the simple contact, but the shade of a smile begins to peek at his mouth. It might be a little unfair, how less his tension is, melting from his shoulders as he loses himself in the kiss he claims from Rodimus: warm, earnest, insistent. But that he begins to shed that anxiety makes it all the sweeter as they go on between the three of them.

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