The speaker on his communicator beeped once to indicate an incoming call and he unconsciously stretched out his hand to press the receive button, his head still bowed as his optics roamed across the datapad.
"You're still there?!" a voice exclaimed. "For Primus' sake call it an evening and go do something to relax. Those reports will still be there for you in the morning."
"I just have a few more to finish up Springer," he said. "I'll be gone soon."
"Soon isn't good enough Rodimus, you get out of that office right now!" the air commander insisted. "All that work isn't good for you."
"I don't have anything else to do, and what's the point? The rest of the Autobots don't even like me. They barely talk to me."
"Well of course they don't talk to you, you stupid fragger! You're never around! You're always shutting yourself up in that fragging office of yours and never show your face unless there's a battle to fight. How do you expect them to like you if they don't even know you?"
"Maybe I don't want them to know me." Rodimus cringed at himself for sounding like a spoiled sparkling.
"Don't make me come up there, Roddy," Springer threatened. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and try to think of your fellow Autobots. You're not the only one who's having it bad, some of these guys have lost really close friends and life-partners, and you're up there acting like you don't give a slag while they still go out there and bust their manifolds for you."
Primus help him but Rodimus honestly felt like sulking. At least there was no one else around to hear the conversation taking place, because that would have just been embarrassing. He looked at the few datapads scattered on his desk. Most of them were just security and scientific reports from Kup and Perceptor, which honestly could wait till morning. Would it really be so bad if he went out and socialized a little bit?
"Rodimus, are you there?" Springer asked.
"Y-yeah, I'm here," he replied.
"Fraggit, I told you to get OUT of there! Okay, you know what? If you're still inside by the time I reach your office, I'm gonna string you up in chains and fly you around Autobot City if that's what it takes."
Rodimus sighed. "Alright, alright, I'm going!"
With a sigh, he pushed back from his desk and stood up, feeling the gears in his back grind roughly from having sat too long. Maybe Springer was right, and he did need to take a break before he landed in the med-bay. He walked quickly to the door and stepped out, letting it slide shut behind him. Out in the hallway by himself, he suddenly felt rather vulnerable without his desk to act as a barrier between him and everyone else, and he almost turned and went back inside. Then he heard footsteps in the distance, and remembering Springer's threat, quickly turned and headed in the opposite direction.
His chosen path took him outside Autobot City and as he stepped out into the twilight, a warm, sunset breeze wafted past him and he breathed in the relaxing air, letting it soothe some of his tense circuitry. The breeze also carried with it the sound of voices, and Rodimus deduced that they were coming from the basketball court. With nothing else to do, he decided to head over and see if there was anyone who wouldn't mind playing one-on-one with him.
The basketball court had infact been his predecessor's idea. Optimus had loved basketball, and during the construction of Autobot City, had also thrown in the Autobot-sized court for those off-duty 'Bots to come and blow of steam in a friendly game or two. It helped them relax and keep the morale of the group up.
There were two Autobots on the court now as Rodimus neared, and he recognized them as the twins – Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Not the friendliest of mechs around, noted for being loose cannons on occasion, especially the yellow one, but so far they hadn't given him much trouble. They got along fairly well with a couple of mechs from Optimus' old team, but usually steered clear of those they didn't know. Or rather it was more that others steered clear of them. They were deadly fighters, and even deadlier when fragged off. Even back in his day as Hot Rod, he'd heard the horror stories of those who had crossed the dreaded Lamborghini Twins' paths and barely lived to talk about it.
So it was with a healthy dose of apprehension that he approached them now.
They didn't seem to be really playing. One of them would shoot the ball, hit or miss, retrieve the ball and pass it to the other, who did the same, and the cycle repeated. Now and then they'd exchange a few words on technique or style, but that was it. They looked up at the sound of his footsteps, the ball in Sunstreaker's hands, and neither of them seemed exactly thrilled to see him.
"Something we can do for you?" Sideswipe asked.
"Ah, no no. Just taking a break. Came out here to see if there was anyone playing," Rodimus replied, feeling just slightly nervous at the sight of their imposing stances. Sure, he was bigger than they were, but there were two of them and they were seasoned, battle-hardened warriors, and just maybe he was starting to buy into the rumors a little bit. "I wont interrupt, please carry on."
"We're not exactly playing," Sunstreaker said.
"Yeah, I can tell," Rodimus replied. "Why not?"
"No one to play against."
"Oh. Why not play one-on-one?" he suggested. "Against each other." They looked at him like they thought he was mad. "Or not."
"We could play against you," Sideswipe offered. "Two-on-one."
"Wouldn't I be at a disadvantage then?"
"No," Sunstreaker added. "You have all your leader powers, we have none. You alone equal at least two normal Autobots."
Rodimus would hardly call the two 'normal' Autobots, from what he had seen of them. They were stronger than most of the others, and combined, they could easily match the strength of himself, Magnus or Springer. They were also more ruthless, capable of artistically maiming a foe till his own creator wouldn't be able to recognize him. Those were not the traits of a 'normal' Autobot.
He regarded them for a moment, as the setting sun turned to fire behind them. Two proud, sullen warriors, gifted with a deadly grace that had never been seen before, nor would ever be seen again. The fiery light touched the curves of their slender bodies and for a moment Rodimus wondered if they had the same passionate fury as lovers as they did as fighters.
The thought surprised him, and he never saw the knowing glance that passed between the brothers.
"So, do you wanna play or not?" Sideswipe asked him, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Oh, umm… yeah, why not. I'll play you guys."
Sunstreaker tossed him the ball – well, all but slammed it into his chest was more like it – and took up a defensive position with his brother closer to the hoop, where they waited for him to come at them. Rodimus bounced the ball a few times to get the feel of it, then slowly began to run towards them. As he neared, he decided to try his luck with Sideswipe, who looked the more vulnerable of the two and not as vicious. The red mech sensed this and moved to intercept him.
The two clashed. Sideswipe drove his shoulder into half of Rodimus' chest as the Autobot leader angled himself to absorb the impact and keep the ball out of his reach. He nearly lost his grip on it when he felt one of Sideswipe's hands snake down and then up his thigh. Back-peddling a couple of steps, he stared at the red mech who grinned impishly back at him, neither admitting or denying anything.
Wondering what the two were trying to do, he charged again, this time aiming for Sunstreaker. As he reached the yellow mech, to his surprise the warrior let him pass, but he had barely taken two steps when a pair of arms snaked around him, and a pair of yellow hands slid sensually across his chest. Again, he managed to break free of the twin, and when he looked back, Sunstreaker wore a sneer of satisfaction.
"Just what do you two think you're doing?" he asked.
"Playing," they said in unison.
"With you," Sunstreaker said.
"Don't you want to play with us?" Sideswipe asked.
Rodimus eyed them warily, but their faces were well-crafted masks that betrayed none of their inner emotions or thoughts, and whatever messages were passing between the two of them, they were definitely not in words that he could hear. Still, he wanted to figure them out, see what they were planning.
"We're playing," he replied.
He ran at them a third time, this time passing between them and heading straight for the hoop. To his surprise they let him go through, running after him only when he was about three steps ahead of them. He jumped and dunked the ball through the net, hanging onto the rim for a moment as the ball hit the ground and bounced away into the shadows. He dropped back to the court as Sunstreaker went to retrieve the ball.
As he stumbled back a few steps, he suddenly found himself being steadied by Sideswipe. The next moment, a pair of lips crushed against his, teasing his mouth and stealing away a few kisses before Rodimus even knew what hit him. By the time his optics had stopped fritzing, Sideswipe was already backing off with that impish grin on his face. Rodimus opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Sunstreaker's approach.
This time the ball was tossed back with less force than before, and Rodimus tried to make himself focus, attempting to push all thoughts of Sideswipe's kiss from his mind as he ran up to the hoop – and the brothers – again.
"Focus on the game," he muttered to himself, right before he fell flat on his face.
The ball rolled away from him and Sideswipe gave chase after it. He looked up to see Sunstreaker looming over him with a neutral expression on his face, and he wondered if the twin had had anything to do with him tripping and falling. Nevertheless, he took hold of the out-stretched hand and pulled himself to his feet.
He was still a little dazed when a mouth slid over his and claimed a long, slow, lingering kiss that he found himself returning eagerly, and almost sighed in disappointment when it slipped away from him. When his vision cleared for the second time that night, Sideswipe was throwing him the ball and telling him to take a penalty shot for an earlier foul.
"What are you two up to?" he asked, as he sank the ball through the hoop.
"We're trying to score," Sunstreaker said, catching it as it fell.
"Just like you are," Sideswipe added. "And you've already scored twice."
So he had, Rodimus told himself, trying not to think of the kisses each twin had placed on him. Sideswipe's cheeky and teasing, blindsiding when he least expected it and leaving him wanting more; Sunstreaker's confident and inviting, full of emotion and feeling, and telling him there was more beneath the surface.
Suddenly, they were all around him, in front and behind, forcing him to move with them as the ball passed in a blurr from one twin to the other. They moved in a fast flurry of red and yellow, leaving him wondering if the touches he felt ghosting along his body were really their hands, or simply imaginary fingers stroking across his armor.
Rodimus dropped to a knee, on the verge of over-loading his tactile sensors as the tornado of crimson and gold dissipated and the ball dropped twice through the hoop on the opposite end of the court. When they had reached that side, he could barely even remember. As he pulled himself to his feet, the twins stood in front of him again.
"Thanks for playing," Sideswipe said.
"Now we're even," Sunstreaker added.
Then, just like that, they turned and walked off the court, Sideswipe carrying the ball under his arm. The sun sank below the horizon as their slender frames disappeared around the side of a wall, and Rodimus watched them go, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.
He was still staring after them when Springer appeared around the very wall the twins had gone. The triple-changer waved a hand in front of his friend's face.
"Earth to Roddy, anyone home?" he asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah what is it?" Rodimus tore his gaze away and looked at the other mech.
"Your break, what did you do?"
The Autobot leader gestured to the basketball court. "Played with the Twins." His mouth curled into a half-smirk. "Tell them to report to my office later tonight, we need to discuss a re-match."
"A re-match?" Springer echoed.
"Yeah. We never had a winner."
END.
