Gift for Ilmadur on DA and I hope he likes it, he's a very special and a most important friend to me.
Transformers IDW, Wing, Drift, and the Circle of Light © IDW publishing, Habro, Takara Tomy, et cetera.
"Again."
Crash!
"Again."
Smack!
"Again."
SCREECH!
He heard a sigh as he howled into the floor, "I think we're done here."
He couldn't agree more right now, he really, very couldn't agree anymore. If he was able to stand on his wobbly pede, he may have been able to go to his teacher and ask for support, but he just laid there, horizontal to the floor.
He felt every strut, every tiny energon vein, every nerve impulse, completely burn with pain from the exercises. Never before had he been tossed around so much by just trying to make a stance like the one Wing had done before. As anyone could hear, he wasn't doing so hot.
"Well, get up Drift." Wing said as he walked to the edge of the arena and watched the ex-Decepticon just lay there. What was up with Wing's colleague?
"If I could follow you, I would..." Drift groaned and he pressed his upper body up with his elbows, digging the crease of every fold on his arms flare with the sudden weight.
He heard a sigh as he felt the atmosphere change. Not for the worst though. Instead of the training atmosphere in its dull, patronizing vibe it was a warm, ecstatic feeling. Like one you got after your friend was talking about a report or exam, and you mock the last words they said for the sake of your sanity.
He felt like he was been dragged slowly, by his pede, because he felt his arms (which were perfectly and precisely into the arena floor) slowly slid from under him and he got upset. His legs were the prime he couldn't walk, could Wing see that pulling him along wouldn't help his current predicament. Suddenly, he felt himself being filled to his back.
Drift winches, glad he wasn't a flier, and arched his aching back from the ground. He felt something near his side and he looked up to see Wing half on top him. Wing had both his arms on each side of his helm and was on top of him up til his wait, where he had his legs on the outside of Drift's right thigh. Drift didn't know if he was grateful for Wing paying attention to some of his personal space, or if he felt the energon in his legs again From the jump his spark did when he saw him above him. Either way, Drift had gulped a hefty amount of air down his intakes, taking Wing in for a second.
His mentor brushed his legs closer together, giving Wing's own legs more room to spread. He watched Wing with sudden realisation and his spark did a bit of a three-sixty in his spark chamber, energon actually flowing faster then it could ever when he raced. He almost leaned up into Wing's face when his legs twitched and shifted positions.
Suddenly, Wing got up and walked away to the other side of the dojo, leaving Drift in his previous position all by himself, just laying in the sand like a doof.
"Come on, training is over," Wing said and waved Drift over, "Your legs should be able to walk over at least a block or two before they quit again. Come on."
Drift just stared at the smaller but colorful (not saying much) mech, as he held the door open for him, waving him. He looked up farther and say that the Circle of Light lights were going out, signalling the impending darkness and shutdown of businesses were fast approaching.
Drift sat up so he could crunch his legs to his fore leg and flip himself to his pede, wobbling as he tried to stand like a normal mech.
All this trouble, and all because he couldn't simply stand one pede, stretch the other over his helm and hold it longer then Wing could!
Drift began to limp and he walked to the door as he cursed what happened, how stupid and idiotic was he?
As he passed the door, he heard Wing whisper in a hushed chuckle after him, "The prey may be learning, but he's not smart enough..."
Wing had been right. He hadn't made it two blocks before he collapsed, having the smaller mentor carry him, and that was embarrassing. He could hold himself up. He had survived the Dead End in Rodion.
He lived under Turmoil.
He lived after becoming "traitor".
He lived because Ratchet had gripped his ruined body and slung him into the miracle clinic.
Drift had passed out not half way through the city, bouncing back and fro because of Wing's (for once) uneasy steps.
If you could say he expected everything but what was going on now normal, would be considerable.
You'd expect that after any practise you have, when your best friend packs you home, you'd wake up in your bed and if your lucky, your friend was nearby just waiting for you. Or you wake up on the couch and your friend by your side, sleeping in your old chair. Or you'd probably expect to wake up on the floor, your buddy apologizing as they helped you up to actually help you. Maybe just abandoned into your house.
But no, Wing had been very gracious with his choice of sitting down Drift's body. Drift had been placed into a berth that looked to be previously made, body center in the berth, and spread out as his frame pleased. He indeed had Wing with him, Wing had not just dumped him and left, but that was the problem.
Wing had stayed, but not the stayed he imagined.
Wing was on his chassis, holding said chassis like a sparkling would his toy, and he practically jumped when he found out where Wing's knee strut moved over.
Swell. This was pleasant!
Wing practically curled into a ball while he recharged, knees digging and arms hooking.
How long did it take a mech to awaken from his recharge cycles?
He had been on his back, Wing on his chassis, and Wing's knee in his unmentionables.
Some terrific morning cycle it was growing to be! Just one more day in the life of Drift! Always someone to always sleep with...
He was brought from his imaginative rant with whomever to look down at the rustling samurai, loving the details the morning light was giving him one more step up Drift's cute meter.
He didn't even know why he just said something as mushy and gushy as that. But Wing was warm in his recharge...
Drift leaned his helm down to Wing's helm, resting his lips on Wing's forehelm, offlining his optics as he toke in Wing against him. He laid a soft kiss on his mentors nasal ridge.
Suddenly, Drift found his helm being pushed back against the berth with an arm on his neck and other against the berth. He stared up at his mentor, whom himself looked static. Wing stared down at him like he wasn't there, but what made him shiver was how long they stayed like that. Wing must have been waiting for something, was he supposed to apologize for what he did? Did Wing want him to get out? Was he going to be stricked in the face?
He looked around quickly before looking back up at Wing. Drift jumped. Wing was smiling down at him now, the shadows making his face cast unusually, (and dare he say) beautiful shadows on his face.
"Drift..." Wing said as he looked down upon his student.
"Look, I know what I did was uncalled for," Drift said and held his servo up into view, "Kissing you when you just onlined must be an invitation to gets your helm knocked in, but..."
Drift was shut up by another lip lock, but from Wing instead of himself.
Wing separated their lips, keeping his lips close enough to brush each other when they toke a breath in through their intakes.
"It was an invitation," Wing said and he toke a hold of Drift's finals in his servo, making Drift buck, "For me to teach you a new lesson."
Drift just stared up at his mentor. Was now really a time for a-?!
"You can lead a samurai to a sword," Wing says as he pressed his helm against Drift's, "But you can't make him fight."
"What am I trying to fight?" Drift ask as he felt Wing kiss the black chevron on his helm.
Wing just smiled as he traced glyphs on Drift's final tips, "That is not my area of specialty. Just telling you the problems you need to work out. You must find your inner troubles so you may vanquish it, and become one with yourself."
Drift sighed, "That was so corn-!"
He was shut up by Wing smashing there lips together again.
I hope you loved it fans. Q wQ
If you excuse me, I have a friend to go tell to see this!