2016-08-05 Red is the Color of Love
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Red is the Color of Love|
|Location||Lost Light - Habsuites - Common Lounge|
|Summary||Just a pair of gossipers getting cozy.|
This spacious, rectangular room serves as the hub for four habsuite hallways that branch off from it on either side. Tinted blue with warm lighting, it's quiet and cozy during most shifts and invariably bustling with activity in the off hours. When the large videopane isn't buzzing with movies, it's being used for what must be aggressive gaming, evinced by the various controller-shaped dents in the wall nearby. A veritable tangle of game consoles flank the shelving unit, some Terran, some Cybertronian, some truly alien - all modded for mechs.
L-shaped couches circle a simple table in a pisces layout. Off to the side are a few more tables and chairs beside an energon dispenser and an over-priced vending machine.
Inferno lounges in the, heh, common lounge, legs spread out on a couch as he leans back against the arm, optics intensely on the datapad in his servos. He's been here for a little while now, reading quietly in his off time. Ever since that conversation with Skids in the oil baths, he's been looking up stuff about video games. He wants to talk to Skids about teaching him how to play, and therefore in the interim he's decided to prepare himself. Unfortunately the first datapad he borrowed from the library on this manner focuses more on the coding and creation of games, so he's having some trouble understanding it. This means it's taking him longer than he expected to get through the information, and so his expression is pinched in concentration, different from his usual relaxed smile and friendly manner. If this was the kind of thing Skids would talk about, Inferno isn't sure he'll ever be prepared.
Beachcomber doesn't always confine himself away into solitude to meditate - sometimes he just wants to sprawl and watch the living world of their ship wander by him. It's reassuring, in a way, seeing that time marches on despite everything, seeing that life keeps living despite everything. The ones who had been built for war finding hobbies and friendship, branching out to find their own purpose in life now that the fighting had (mostly) ended was always inspiring. It made him happy to see them starting to grow.
Though, seeing the big block of red when he entered, Beachcomber's steps slow a little. He hasn't seen Inferno lately, not since before the altercation with Swerve, and remembering the shaken metallurgist draws his mouth down into a slight frown. He really should have a talk with the mech, just to see if things had settled... so he climbs onto the couch, stepping around the mech's shins and sprawling between his legs and the back of the furniture. He leans back against Inferno's middle, wiggling down into the space available, and makes himself comfortable. "Hey."
Inferno wasn't expecting any company, though he's not opposed, and the sudden snuggle - seat of Beachcomber is met with a friendly smile as he looks up from the datapad. "Hey, Beach! How're you doing?" His smile turns a little sad as he regards the mini, remembering the last time they'd been stationed together. Back when Blaster had an assassination attempt to deal with, and Inferno was one of the suspects. He feels for Beachcomber - finding out someone was controlling you to do such horrible things has to be hard in a way Inferno can't even fathom. He sits up, putting the datapad away as he bends his legs so he can hunch with one arm resting over his knee and the other around Beach's shoulders in a companionable way. "Sorry I ain't seen you around much. I been kinda, uh, keepin' to myself, I guess." He's completely ignorant of Beachcomber's knowledge concerning the incident with Swerve. He wouldn't be any less friendly even if he did know, though.
"I've been..." A hand waves awkwardly, gesturing to the ship. Surely it hadn't escaped Inferno's notice that a certain someone was climbing the ranks. And their colony hopping and all the troubling interactions with the titans of those colonies... "I've been. Continued existing despite others' best efforts."
Beachcomber grins and tucks closer under the companionable arm, shifting and turning to rest his forearms against Inferno's chest to better speak face to face with the bigger mech. "Yeah?" His chin rests against his arms, peering over the bulk of his chest with a small smile. "What's got you being so social-shy?"
Inferno nods as Beachcomber speaks. Yeah, 'Ferno knows about a particular Decepticon who's in command, and he's heard of what's been happening in the colonies lately. He's yet to go down to one, himself, and he's kind of glad for it. Killing a titan...he doesn't know what he'd do if he was part of a team that would do something like that. Besides, he has plenty to occupy him on the ship.
Inferno gives a gentle chuckle at the switch in position, which Beach can likely feel through his place on 'Ferno's chassis. "Not sure. Guess I just got caught up in work and workin' out...haven't really seen anyone but Deluge outside a shifts for a while." He tilts his helm, smile turning shy. "Least til recently."
"Ohhhh~?" A blue hand reaches up to tease the corner of that smile, grin widening across Beachcomber's own face. "Now you can't say something like that, with that cute face, and then not tell me who~~!" It might be a little awkward to get in quite so close, but Beachcomber shifts to rest on his knees in Inferno's lap, trying to minimize the distance between their heads to better gossip. And to better tease. The hand that had been poking his smile shifts to wiggle one of his ear fins instead, his grin turning sly. "You and Red huh~? It's cute when couples match paint jobs~~"
Inferno's cheeks turn a light pink, smile broadening in a way he can't help as he laughs again. It's the combination of teasing and Beachcomber's natural cuteness getting him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lies, still grinning, dentals digging into his lower lip as his optics flick away. "Just, you know, people. Mechs on the ship."
His jig is up when Beach mentions Red Alert, and Inferno chokes a bit on a vent, blush reaching maximum capacity. "Wha-What? We're not - why would you think - " The cute panic and sputtering certainly don't help his case. "I just - " His wing kibble slumps in defeat and he looks at the floor, one servo scrubbing the back of his neck. "That obvious, huh?"
Beachcomber chuckles at his spluttering, patting him sympathetically while he stumbles through his denial and fluster. Poor Inferno, he's a fighter not a stealth master. A hand on either side of Inferno's face prod at his cheeks and smoosh them fondly, playfully rolling and kneading the flustered mech's face in his hands. "Weeeelll," Beachcomber drawls, hands never stopping with their silly manipulating of the softer parts of his face, "I've been hearing some stuff, is all. It's obvious if you know what to look for, though - you're real cute when you're in loooove~"
Inferno has to bite back a giggle while Beachcomber manipulates his cheeks; not only because it's adorable, but also because it kind of tickles. He has a brief moment of actual panic as he wonders if others have been as on point as Beach in realizing what was going on. He doesn't want word getting back to Red before the security bot is ready to handle it. "I- I dunno if I'd go that far - " he stammers, cheeks a bright pink. "Uh, what've you heard, if you don't mind me askin'? You been talking to Deluge...?" It's not an accusatory tone, one more of curiosity. He can't imagine Del being a gossip, yet.
Beachcomber lets loose of Inferno's face and folds his arms up under himself again, head tilting ever so slightly while he regards him. "Nope, not Deluge," he rumbles softly, trying to keep the serious edge out of his tone as he sighs, a bit sadly, and settles more comfortably against Inferno's chest. "I heard a bit from Swerve, actually."
The mini waits a beat for that to process before continuing, "Security got called for a bar fight while I was there-" Just going to omit the part about being IN the bar fight, "-and Swerve was pretty upset about it. I went and hung out with him for a little while and he told me what went down between you two." His head tips the other way, frown soft and concerned. "Wanna tell me what's up with that? That ain't like you - or, maybe I just don't remember it. Data's a little fuzzy these days, y'know?"
Inferno moves his arm around Beachcomber to accommodate the mini's shifting. Not Deluge? Then who - His processor provides the answer before Beach says it, and Inferno's wing kibble slump once more, though this time waaay down. "I shouldn't a done that," he says softly.
Inferno hesitates, thumb digit rubbing small circles in Beachcomber's plating as a kind of nervous tic, before he sighs and nods. "I'll tell ya. I'm...not really sure what came over me. I heard rumors about what happened when Swerve and Red were suitemates, and when I asked Swerve about it, he laughed. Like it was real funny to hurt Red that way." Inferno's free servo tightens into a fist; he forces himself to relax. "I don't think he really knew what he was doin', I just - I snapped." He shakes his helm. "It was wrong."
Sigh. Beachcomber allowed the rubbing, letting himself be a comfort to the mech in whatever way he needed him to be, and leaned closer to nuzzle their helms together. "It wasn't great," he agrees quietly, resting cheek to cheek with the bigger mech to comfort him. He seemed genuinely remorseful, at least. "I'm not gonna say Swerve was being real great either, what he was doin' to Red was mean - but Swerve doesn't really seem to get Red, y'know? And when you don't get Red it can be easy for something meant in fun to move hard and fast into cruelty territory without realizing it. Some people can take the teasing, some people bond through the teasing, but Red isn't one of those people. You and I know that, but I don't think Swerve gets him, y'know? And people don't get Swerve either." The tires on his shoulders shift in a shrug, then slump when he sighs. "Everyone needs to talk more and punch less - this isn't the battle field where you've got a split second between life and death, these are our friends. Gotta learn to curb those knee-jerk reactions."
Inferno dims his optics as he rests his helm against Beachcomber's, listening to what the mini has to say. "Yer right," he agrees, wincing at the reminder that Swerve isn't exactly Mr. Popular. "I know Swerve's had it rough, too, I just - wasn't thinkin'." He moves back a bit to look off toward the far wall."Still gotta make it up ta him. I told Tailgate, and got suspended for a few days, had to write an apology note, but - 'snot enough." He gives a sad, limp chuckle. "The boss didn't think it'd do any good to brig me, I guess, though I ain't sure I agree with him. Been going to Rung, though, he can help me with this kind a scrap."
"I dunno if there's much to be done in the way of 'making it up to' Swerve," Beachcomber hums, resting back against his heels with a sigh. "Sometimes you gotta stand back and let folks come to you - and if they don't, you can't force it. Just gotta let them do what makes them comfortable, y'know?" He nods along in agreement to the visits to Rung, those were good steps. Beachcomber was dodging the therapist a bit, himself, but it was good that Inferno was able to go to him and talk about these impulses with him.
"You could come meditate with me sometimes," Beachcomber offers the bigger mech, tipping his head with a soft smile. "A lot of meditation is learning to listen to your own body, turning your focus inward before turning it outward. Red got a little spooked by it when he tried it with me. Poor guy."
Inferno chews his lip in thought. That's a good point - wasn't that what he was doing with Red now? Being careful, making sure the bot comes to him and doesn't feel rushed into anything, if he even reciprocated Inferno's feelings in the first place? He nods, optics coming back to full brightness as he fixes them on Beachcomber. "Yeah...I'll wait 'n see, then. And in the meantime stay outta Swerve's." Which kinda sucks but wasn't Mirage opening up some kind of bar? Maybe he could go there instead.
"Yeah?" Inferno brightens a bit. "I'd love to, mech. Lifting weights is good for relaxin' sometimes but I should probably branch out, heh." His wing kibble are almost back to their normal position. "Yeah, I...can see that. Red needs a lotta care, lotta softness. I'm hopin' I can help with that, even if it's as a friend."
"Awwwwwwww~~!" Beachcomber's hands ball into loose fists and press into his cheeks, sappy smile spreading into an adoring grin. "Inferno~~ You've got it baaaaaaad, Mech, you have got it baaaaaad." Beachcomber chuckles, reaching up to gently pat his face again, "You're so cute. You haven't just fallen for Red you have just like- splat! Faceplanted for him."
"I - what? I - I just." Inferno squirms under the teasing. "N-No I - someone's gotta look out for him, yanno?" The blush is back, Inferno's face hot enough to metaphorically cook an egg. "I - I mean, I liked him for a while, I think, b-but it wasn't like that til Deluge said -!" Right? Right he'd just been trying to be a good friend, since Red looked like he needed one. That was all!
Oh yeah. Suuure sure, Inferno, Beachcomber totally believes you. Doesn't that broad grin just look so believing? Totally believing. Totally. Underneath all the giggles he absolutely, 100%, believes you. Honest. "You're so cute. And you're so cute with Red~" Beachcomber shifts to climb off his lap, sliding down to the floor with a chortle. "Well it's good of you to be such a good friend to Red~ Give him a hug for me, alright?"
It's nice, to have be able to talk about this. Now, with three people who know, three people he trusts, he can talk about it instead of holding it all in. Instead of denying it so much he attacks people in an overprotective frenzy. 'Ferno's bashful smile makes its’ comeback. "Thanks, Beach." He gives the mini a fond rub of his servo over the top of Beachcomber's helm.
Inferno gives a shrug, though he's still smiling. "Heh. He deserves it." Inferno isn't self-sacrificing in this statement - it's just a fact. "It might be a bit til we get there, mech, but...I will."