re_alignment | [Video] [Originating from: Junk Pile] [Locked to: Drift]

Entry tags:

tf: idw | wing

[Video] [Originating from: Junk Pile] [Locked to: Drift]

[He's honestly not certain if their usual familiarity applies, so forgive him if he seems stiff and formal.]

Drift. Hello. Vector Prime informed that he slowed the progress of the disease. And as I understand it you are no longer contagious as well.

[There's obvious relief in his voice. You can't even imagine.]

I...regret that our earlier meeting was so strained. Perhaps we can try again?

((hopefully I've done this right..?))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Old habits die hard. ]

[Whatever retort Drift was coming up with--oh and it was a good one!--sort of sputters into a choking sound. Yeah. Uh. Scenery. ]

I can...manage it. [Lame, he admits, but he's trying to regroup.]

[There. Regrouping complete, innuendo reactivated.] I could always loan you one of mine.

[So does that point count towards victory? Or is this pre-game still?]

Manage it? We can do something else if you think you'll have trouble.

[A wink and a mischievous snicker, which gets promptly sabotaged by an indelicate coughing snort. OH YOU. Offering your equipment around like that.]

But--uh...what if I like it so much I what to keep it? [WHAT? Seriously, you're faster at this regrouping thing than he is.]

[Exhibition match. Doesn't count.]

We could always do 'something else' later. [Oh, do not even let Drift's mind go there. Too late.]

[But now you have ignited his gallantry. And slightly too much earnestness.] _{Then it's yours.}

[Oh, he'll show you an exhibition.]

[A slow lift of the browridge, then a mischievous smile.] If you think that would suit you better. Then definitely. [Don't tempt him to make this NOW instead of later.]

Oooh. [A tilt of the head as he bites his lip.] I dare say that might be necessary then.

[All this talk, no action, Wing. Tsk.]

I like to draw things out.

[Okay, perhaps teetering a bit more into cheesy than he would have liked, or crass innuendo, but he's new at this.]

Just let me know what you need. [Any lightness in the words is probably undercut by the almost aching earnestness of Drift's expression.]

[Same could be said for you, Drift.]

I can be patient.

[He thinks he's playing it cool now.]

[But... OH.]

[All this sincerity admist the banter, he's just not expecting.]

[A small noise that he can't contain, something like a whimper.] _{. . . Just you.}

[Oh just give Drift an opening and you would be actioned all over the place, Wing. He's just not sure his advances are welcome.]

[And with the cheesiness of some of them, he may have a right to be concerned.]

I bet you can. [See? Like that. So cheesy it probably violates the Tyrest Accord.]

I...uh...[A squeak, like lighting a flame in pure oxygen.]_{I owe you everything.} [How could he not be Wing's?]

[Oh, Wing likes action. ... What kind of opening exactly?]

It's worth it. [Oops, was he supposed to keep up the satire? Cuz that came out pretty sincere.]

[He shutters his optics for a moment.] _{But I don't want this, if it's only because you think you owe me.} [He looks up again, hopeful for better.]

[Something unambiguous. Maybe throwing Drift to the ground, straddling him and telling him you want to frag him till he can't move? That might work.]

[And then Drift twitches, because for a moment, all he hears is the first part. Because that's what he's been dreading. So for a long moment there's nothing but aching grief on his face.]

[But he forces himself to play over the rest, and cycles a deep vent.] _{It's not.}
[What he owes Wing is entirely separate--his protection, his loyalty. But this? What he wants here? Is almost selfish by comparison.]

[That...could probably be arranged. Yes. Very definitely. Easily, in fact.]

[But probably best when you're less rusty.]

[There's a flash of deep concern at your apparent distress, and Wing is about to say something when you speak up. Then a heartfelt smile spreads across his face, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity.] Good. I am glad.

[He wants this, he needs it. But as equals.]

You should rest. There'll be much to do once you're well again.

[Everything is better with less rust. ]

I just...well, you don't know me. It's...I don't...you know...want to force things.

[Did that sound lame? That probably sounded lame. ]

I don't need rest. [ I need you. And a cluebat. ]

[Washracks are a nice temporary measure.]

But I want to. Know you. [In every way possible.]

A cure is what you need. [Concern, tinged with longing. He wants to offer comfort, affection, intimacy...but there's fear that you'll refuse him given your current state.]

[But Drift isn't looking for 'temporary'.]

[~~wow even his meta is cheesy~~]

Me too. Uh. The other way. Know you. Not me. I, uh, I already know me.

[Aaaaaand he should really shut up.]

Vector Prime has stopped it. I can manage. At least it won't kill me. [It's a very, very tiny tick, but there!]

[Wing isn't either. Not in your cure, or your place in his life.]

[~~but cute and sweet even so!~~]

You can Drift. I want you to.

[He has to grin. Because it really is endearing.]

Manage? [He hesitates, beyond tempted.] Are you sure? [The question begs more than just handling the plague.]

[And thinking about how close he'd come to losing Drift after finding him again, wasn't something Wing wanted to consider. A reminder about how swiftly things can be taken from us.]

[A nervous, sickly smile. Especially since, you know, uh still rusting.]

_{I don't know how to start}.

[He doesn't want to confess it: it's weakness, but if there's anyone who deserves to see him at his weakest, it's Wing.]

I'll be fine. Please...I don't deserve your worry. [He doesn't deserve Wing's pain, if he does happen to be wrong.]

[A reassuring smile.]

You can start by letting me come keep you company.

[And maybe tolerating it when he wants to fuss over your health. It's just what he loves, helping people, and you.]

Doesn't matter if you deserve it or not. [He shrugs gently.] You'll have it none the less, it's...kind of a byproduct of caring.

Wing. [He frowns. ] I'm gross.

[Seriously. He smells AWFUL and looks not much better. The last thing he wants you to do is be near him. For your sake.]

[Well, he knew that part was coming. Wing doesn't seem dissuaded though.]

So I'll meet you at the washracks then?

Wing. [Oh he's so torn. Because nothing would feel better than a wash. And Wing. But.]

You're joking. [Obviously.]

[A hearty laugh.] Of course I'm not!

Come on, I'll do your back for you. [Cuz it's gotta be itchy right?]

Wing. What if they're wrong? What if I'm contagious?

[He's vacillating so badly he's probably rocking on his feet.]

You're not. I'd have symptoms by now.

[If that happens, he might have to come over there just to hold you still.]

[When has worry ever bowed to logic, though, Wing.]

_...please

[Logic plus a distraction should do the trick though. Have a joyful grin.]

I'd be my pleasure. I'll be right there!

[And yeah he means that. He's fast when he wants to be.]

Mind giving me directions once inside Liege's?

[The smile is dazzling. There's really no other word for it: like looking directly into the sun.]

[By the time he recovers, Wing's on his way.]

I'll meet you outside.

[Video] [Originating from: Junk Pile] [Locked to: Drift]

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