A/N: Man, I suck at crossposting... Anyway! Wrote this late last year based on a Rung/Skids headcanon shared with me by scraplette over on Tumblr. It was my first time writing the characters- and in this continuity at all, actually. Now canon-divergent in that there's reference to Rung still practicing but this assumes Skids is not, never was and would not become his patient. Because OTP blinders. Enjoy!
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Rung shifted a bit where he reclined on the couch, cycling his optics off and on again to refocus on the borrowed datapad in his hands. With less than three chapters to go, he was determined to finish the book by the end of his break– a goal easier spoken than met. The subject matter was interesting, but he couldn't connect to the writing at all. Rung had already had the book for three days longer than usual, and though Nautica had assured him that there was no need to rush, he was feeling every second he dawdled. Part of it was guilt, part of it was pride and part of it was the simple fact that book exchanges with Nautica were among the few points of regular social contact he had to look forward to.
Making a short sound of relief as he hit the last page of the current chapter, Rung reached out blindly for his glass of sweetened fuel. It took a bit of grasping and groping along the surface of his side table, fingers winding around and past the treats he'd set out– the few of them that remained, anyway– but finally his fingers met glass and brought it to his lips without taking his gaze from the page. He took an eager drink– and very nearly gagged on it.
While the taste wasn't exactly bad, it was decidedly bland, with no trace of the expected sweetness to be found. Rung sat up sputtering, datapad slipping from fingers slackened by surprise, and stared at the glass as though betrayed. Taken aback as he was, it took him several seconds staring to realize that he was not holding the fuel he'd prepared, but a standard energon blend. He whipped around, bewildered, and did a double-take as he found himself face to torso with one of the other few points of regular social contact he had to look forward to.
"Skids!" he said, pleasantly surprised and embarrassed at once, as he looked up into his visitor's grinning face. "I'm sorry– how long have you been here?"
"Well, you were about halfway through that chapter," Skids said, taking a mock thinking pose, "so only a few hours."
Rung didn't respond to the tease. Skids's shifting had drawn attention– deliberately, no doubt– to the glasses of fuel he had in hand. One matched the glass Rung had picked up and had been sipped from already. The other was Rung's own meticulously prepared glass of fuel, still full and shimmering a tantalizing pastel under the overhead lights. Rung's gaze caught on it and Skids followed his line of sight to the glass like he didn't already know it was there.
"Oh, is this yours?" he asked, all false innocence . He sniffed at the glass and pulled an exaggerated grimace. Looking up at Rung with an eyeridge cocked, he asked, "Did you know you got energon in your sweetener?"
"I'll have that back, thank you," Rung said, putting the decoy glass aside and reaching out for his own.
"Sure," Skids said, but instead of handing Rung his drink, he pointed at the glass Rung had discarded and added, "as soon as you finish that one."
Rung hesitated, taken aback. When a moment passed and Skids still hadn't returned Rung's drink, he said, "Excuse me?"
"Finish your lunch," Skids said, slow and firm, "and then you can have your dessert."
Rung's eyebrows met in the middle and his lips formed a tight line. This wasn't the first time his fueling habits had been called into question, but Skids had never before gone so far as to hold Rung's fuel hostage. He was utterly shameless about it, too, meeting Rung's glare with an expectant look. When Rung shifted his gaze back to the glass, considering perhaps too plainly whether he could make a successful grab for it, Skids had the audacity to chuckle and adjusted his grip so that the glass very nearly dangled from between his fingers– an obvious and insidious threat, though one he was unlikely to follow through on.
Finally, Rung grunted, a sound of defeat and distaste, and took the energon Skids had brought him back in hand. Skids was just stubborn enough to drag this out for the rest of his break, Rung knew, and he really wanted that fuel– and, though he didn't care to admit it, he did need something with nutritional value. He'd nibbled his way through two boxes of candy, two thirds of a tray of goodies and had three sweet drinks through the work cycle, contenting his tanks with an excess of what amounted to little more than junk.
And, he'd more readily admit if asked, it was no small part of him that appreciated that Skids cared enough to look after his health. He just wished Skids could have done so with something a bit more palatable– nutritional value was about all the fuel he'd brought had going for it. Rung briefly considered stirring one of his candy sticks into it or even plopping in one of his remaining sweets, but recognized the impulse for the pettiness it was and ignored it.
Steeling himself, he drained the fuel in two gulps, making no effort to quiet the disgusted noises that the so-called flavor inspired.
Again, Skids laughed, enough fondness edging the amusement to soften the insult. Rung made a discontented sound back that was no doubt lost among the others and shoved the empty glass back onto the table with more force than strictly necessary.
"Was it really necessary to chug it like that?" Skids asked around laughter. To his credit, he was quick this time to hand over the sweet drink when Rung flung a hand out for it.
There was little Rung wanted more in that moment than to wash his poor, abused taste receptors with his entire drink in one swig, but he forced himself to savor it. He drank long and slow, doing hardly more than trickling the fuel between his lips, rolling it over his tongue and pressing it into every corner of his mouth as it flowed. He was making noise again, he realized, happy little hums and chirps he couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed by. If nothing else, he had to admit that the unpalatable plain energon made his own sweetened blend all the more refreshing.
The whole time, Skids leaned against the wall and sipped at his own fuel, watching with his optics bright.
"Should I be amused or jealous?" Skids asked as Rung tipped his head back at a severe angle in an effort to catch as much of that sweet taste as possible. When Rung neglected to answer in favor of running a finger along the inside of the glass and then popping it into his mouth with a pleased trill, Skids tipped his head and said, "Hm, no, still too close to call."
Rung was sated enough to offer a small laugh of his own, somewhat muffled as he licked the last drops from his lips. Skids shook his head and straightened, stepping forward with a hesitation Rung wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known his body language so well. He let Skids suffer through five seconds without acknowledgement before using his heels to pull himself down the length of the couch, making room. Skids swooped upon the invitation; rather than wait for Rung to finish shuffling out of the way, he reached out and down with his free hand to scoop Rung up with an arm around his waist. Rung laughed again, more openly, as Skids made himself comfortable and settled Rung across his lap.
Getting comfortable himself, Rung groped for the datapad he'd all but forgotten and found his place. Even a full tank, a pleasant aftertaste and good company couldn't make the slog through the writing any more enjoyable, but at least he'd be physically content as he mentally suffered.
"Is it really that bad?" Skids asked. Rung glanced up at him in question and he explained, "You're making a face almost as sour as when you consume real fuel."
"Ah, I hadn't realized…" Rung ducked his head a bit before he could help it; he still wasn't used to people paying enough attention to his expressions to make anything of them and it made him feel vulnerable in a way he was unaccustomed to. He took hold of his composure and answered, "It's not that it's bad, honestly, just… not to my taste."
"Should've guessed that," Skids murmured, a teasing lilt to his tone.
He took another drink of his own energon and this time Rung was fully aware of the face he made as he watched him do it and tasted the ghost of the flavor on his tongue.
"You're sure I can't offer you anything for that?" Rung asked. "I have plenty."
"I'm good," Skids assured him once he'd swallowed. He dipped in to nuzzle his face against Rung's, their lips brushing when he spoke. "I've got all the sweetness I need right here."