Title: Blast Off and Vortex are drunk and discuss love and stuff
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU)
Warnings: comedy, implied smut, fluff
Characters: Blast Off, Vortex, implied Blast Off/Vortex
Rating: PG
Summary: What the title says.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
Blast Off was too drunk to question how Vortex had found him. He also didn't ask why the 'copter was there.
Blast Off merely accepted the fact that, right now, they were drinking together in that old bar in Altihex - Horizon. Before he worked for Onslaught, Blast Off used to have a room over it, living there more or less when he hadn't been in space or had to stay overnight in another city.
Horizon - the mech, not the bar, but Blast Off couldn't say which was named after which because both seemed very old and it was hard to tell - looked at them, amused. He'd left Blast Off and the 'copter sitting at the counter alone, and taken a seat next to an old friend at the other end of the room. It was an even older friend than Blast Off was to Horizon.
For outsiders it probably looked as though Blast Off and the 'copter were close friends. They drank together, and talked. That was, the 'copter talked, and Blast Off was too inebriated to be thoroughly annoyed by it.
They weren't friends. They were co-workers, but Blast Off had given up on explaining that to everyone.
"You know, love is a disease of affluence," Vortex muttered, seemingly fragged off. "Who invented scrap like that anyway?"
The shuttle looked up, frowning behind his visor. He'd lost track of what Vortex was talking about a while ago, and was now quite confused. Why had the 'copter brought up something like that?
"Well…" Blast Off replied, because it felt like he should say something, even though he had no idea what was an appropriate answer.
"Have you ever been in love?" Vortex asked, still rather irritated, and Blast Off huffed.
"Nope," he answered promptly and proudly. He was officially attested as being incapable of doing so - whatever that meant, and till now he'd always guessed that was something other people thought was unfortunate or bad. Not that he'd ever talked about it.
"Yeah, me neither! Thank Sigma." Vortex took a gulp from his cube, almost emptying it.
"What does it feel like anyway?" Blast Off wanted to know, and forgot that he'd also wanted to ask why they were discussing this topic in the first place. But his high-grade-infused processor was unable to think of two questions at the same time, and so he didn't.
"I dunno." Vortex shrugged, and then added, before the shuttle could say anything to that, "I always think it must be some sort of pressure, you know. In your head. Like, when medics poke your programming during maintenance. Or like when your optics malfunction, and you can only see a part of the usual range, just… in your processor, you know."
Blast Off's optics flickered. He muttered against the rim of his energon cube. "No, I don't think I know…" After taking a sip, he thought about this a moment longer, then continued. "You mean like… some sort of virus that constrains your thoughts?"
"Yeah, kinda like that!"
The shuttle put the cube down and stared a long moment at the 'copter, dubiously. "Well, that's awful."
"It's creepy! Everyone I know who suffered from it acted like a total lunatic."
At that, Blast Off grimaced, horrified. If someone who was an actual lunatic thought about other people that way, it definitely was creepy. And Blast Off had always thought love had a positive connotation to it.
"Why are we talking about this anyway?" the shuttled mumbled, more to himself.
Vortex answered anyway. The rotor blades gave a twitch, drawing Blast Off's attention, then the 'copter sighed. "Onslaught demanded I take care of some personal business of his…" He waved a hand, and glanced from below up to Blast Off. "Don't think I can say more. Just sayin' it was disgusting."
"Oh…" Again, Blast Off only muttered something because he had the feeling he should do so.
They sat there for another while, drinking energon quietly. Blast Off drank stronger ones than Vortex. It was special grade for shuttleformers, and more potent. Horizon hadn't given Vortex any of it, because he'd said he didn't want to have to take the 'copter to medbay later. Right then, Blast Off pondered on giving Vortex some from his cube. Maybe it'd make the 'copter shut up…
Unfortunately, Vortex continued talking before Blast Off could even offer the high grade.
"It's a weakness, you know. With the right words, it makes people do things more easily."
Having been with his thoughts somewhere completely different, Blast Off needed a moment to realise to what exactly Vortex was referring.
"What?" The shuttle made the mistake of asking. He scolded himself for doing so, but Vortex was already rambling on. Blast Off decided not to listen too closely, because he heard words like "breaking someone", "work" and "torture" - whereas all three were kind of one and the same with Vortex, Blast Off mused.
He huffed at his own observation, amused, and his intakes hitched afterwards while a shudder ran down his back struts. It was the effect of the high grade, and Blast Off knew he'd already had too much. Thankfully, Horizon would let him recharge in his old room tonight.
"Vortex." Blast Off's speech was swaying, but surprisingly resolute and it made the 'copter stop in his words.
Vortex looked up, his whole stature seemingly wobbling and about to fall down while sitting on the chair. "Eh?" was the stupid response, with an obviously inebriated and puzzled grin on his face.
"If you stop talking, I will frag you."
The 'copter's mouth opened, but closed again. The rotor blades' quivering increased, and the red optics behind the even redder visor just stared at Blast Off.
Well, that was easy. Turning to his half-full cube, Blast Off sipped, and sighed. He liked the silence. "Finish your cube first."
Vortex nodded, and from his peripheral vision, Blast Off saw him fidgeting.
Hiding his grin behind the energon cube, Blast Off mused that Vortex proved himself right. 'Love' made people do things more easily.
