Title: Drunk Fist Fleeing
Rating: T
Genre: Humour
Characters: Orion Pax (Optimus Prime), Starscream, OCs
Warnings: Slash, cursing, minor violence, unbetaed
Prompt: (9.) G1 pre-war – Orion has the misfortune to become involved in one of Starscream's weekly bar fights. He's forced to run away and hide with the seeker for the time being to avoid the authorities looking for them.
A/N: This was done for the Primescream Livejournal community's first ever contest August Challenge: Beginnings. May I just say one thing? The submissions for this contest were absolutely mind-blowing! I mean, seriously, we were supposed to vote for our favorite after reading . . . But how does one chose between 9 other, utterly amazing stories? Impossible, I tell you D: you should all go read. Now! ... But, enough rambling - this was my contribution and I figured I'd add it to my list of fiction here. Enjoy!
Orion tried to ignore the increasingly aching throb in his processors as Senator Cog, in all his awkward and paintjob-mismatched glory sent a youngster across the bar a hopeful look before not-so-discreetly making a sign for the bartender to serve him a strong, rust-sprinkled cube of fuel.
At a more trendy, upper Iacon nightclub the gesture might have been accepted with more grace. Or perhaps it would have resulted in a polite declination. Here, however …
The young, shapely mech shot the elder an incredulous look before knocking the drink down quickly, greedily, small droplets of the highly charged liquid dripping down his chin, making the orange and lilac Elite straighten in optimism.
. . . Just as a tall, menacing dock-worker joined him, claiming ownership by wrapping an impossibly thick arm around the by-then-drunk youth's waist, grunting something to him. They shared brief words, one amused and slurring, the other emitting harsh promises of pain in the frozen Senator's direction.
Orion groaned inwardly as he pulled at his companion, making him face the other direction. What on Cybertron had he been thinking?
The infamous bars of the dock-areas, devoid of glamour and class; certainly no 'bot would be as stupid as to bring a wealthy, influential Elite there whilst having any hopes of impressing said Elite?
Ah, yes.
Thus presented Orion's strange predicament: Senator Cog, a frequent guest/overseer at the young dock-worker's work-station, was influential; not overly so, admittedly, but enough for him to be a possibly important piece in the puzzle of Orion's future.
Dion had been the one to suggest it.
The Senator had the credit to sponsor a full stay at the Academy. Becoming his patron would be life-altering, surely.
But when he'd asked the lanky, orange Elite if he wanted to grab a cube after work, solely as friends!, … - back then, earlier that day, he had never in a stellar-cycle imagined the mech to have any interests in places like the 'Bulging Tank'.
Possibly the sleaziest, yet most popular spot in all of lower Iacon, the 'Bulging Tank' wasn't a place Orion nor Dion had recently visited. The scandalous incidents happening there, the pleasure drones stalking around the shacky bar, the stench! … No, Orion Pax didn't share the attachment to the place like so many others.
Senator Cog's optics had been glazed over with adoration at the offer of accompanying him there. His long fingers had been jittery with excitement as they'd arrived and found an empty spot by the bar, his gaze trailing over the countless mechs and femmes around them, taking in their shapes and colours.
Primus help him . . . Give him strength.
Orion himself predicted he had the patience to befriend the . . . odd mecha so that he may see it fit to sponsor Orion through proper schooling.
Orion Pax did hope to someday go beyond the docks. All he'd ever heard was that a mech of his kin should be grateful for having a normal life, for having credits to make ends meet.
But he knew what he wanted. Anything related to the glistening towers of the Iacon Academies would make him eternally grateful, awestruck even.
And if there was one thing he'd learned and accepted in the span of his lifetime it was that all the answers laid in a generous amount of credit. Credit got you somewhere, made you someone.
A mech with credit was powerful, inspiring, wise . . .
"Well," the orange, scrawny tower of bolts quipped as he readjusted on his seat, his frame making comical squeaking sounds as he twisted around, "- no nibbles yet. But I got a very good feeling about this place."
Orion had no idea how to answer that statement.
The 'bot next to him was having a rather amiable argument with himself, sprouting out some colourful obscenities at random. The 'couple' across the bar kept sending them evil looks.
"Yeah, this place is quite something . . ."
"I thank you, Orox," the Elite spoke as he let timid, yet lecherous optics glide up and down the drunk workers, "- It's uncommonly rare for a Senator like myself to get an opportunity to study the social lives of workers; A treat, really."
" . . . You're welcome, Sir. And it's 'Orion', actually."
"Of course, how silly of me. Ooh, so many young things I'd like to buy drinks tonight!", he interlaced his fingers in delight, "- Maybe if I make friends I can invite home to be someplace more private; purely for the benefits of our understanding of all the communities in Iacon."
"Well," Orion felt extraordinary uncomfortable as he shrugged, "- This is a good place to make friends."
"Exactly! Like that pretty one," the Senator sounded breathless, orange body inflating with excitement, "- The one with the d-dark face, the-, the Seeker!"
"Hmm," Orion followed his companion's not-too-subtle finger-pointing in the direction of the far-away couches and their occupants. Seekers weren't an unusual sight, not really; but their sleek, gorgeous design always had heads turning in awe. "- Him by the mid-table?"
There were indeed Seekers present tonight, the red and blue mused to himself as he nursed his half-consumed Energon. Four of them, all gleaming and discussing animatedly with mechs seated at their neighbour-table. Drunk, too; definitely.
If he knew anything about the mech he was entertaining tonight it was that he seemed to enjoy the 'company' of younger, fierier 'bots (and that knowledge was already too much information!). A 'friendship' with a Seeker would probably buy him private lessons with all the professors. Orion positively felt even sicker thinking about it . . .
"Oh yes, that one," the Senator hummed longingly, completely forgetting himself as he became more and more entranced by the apparent leader of the group, also in red and blue, Orion realized.
"The things I'd do to those sweet thrusters of his with my-" Orion discreetly but hurriedly tuned his audio-input volume down, blocking out all the following words from the Elite's mouth.
He made sure to nod occasionally, keeping his head turned in the correct direction. He hesitated . . . One look couldn't hurt, could it?
The processor-ache bloomed again as a result of all the thinking and suddenly he couldn't care less. Orion took it all in, as the noises of clinking cubes and ceaseless chatter were equally tuned out:
A stupendous display of long, comely legs, perched on the armrest of the dirt-smeared couch as they were admired by every mech present, as well as those honed, exotic-seeming wings that were visibly preening at all the attention. Dark-coloured faces were a common feature amongst the dock-workers but none could pull of the striking beauty of the Seekers' high cheekbones, full lips, and ruby optics.
Yes, Orion admitted, this mech was gorgeous. And he was aware of it himself, too.
But all the Elysian allure in the universe couldn't make up for the fact that Seekers were trouble. Oh no, that playful imp sitting there, gulping down heavily charged fuel like was it regular Energon would have the temper of a pit-gladiator, the cunning of an age-old Senator, and the endless drive and energy of a . . . Well, no one really compared to the Seekers in that department.
Orion sent his companion a quick sideways glance. Cog was mesmerized, like many others. He couldn't really hold it against him, but neither could he encourage the Senator to pursue the Vosnian.
He leaned in conspiratorially and saluted his high-grade in an apologetic manner.
"I fear that you might find him taken already, Sir," he spoke with faked regret, taking a heavy sip from his drink.
True as he had spoken it a bulky, grinning mech appeared by the Seekers' table, putting his arm around the slim, canopy waist as he managed to drunkenly chat him up and ogle at the same time. Said Seeker smirked at both his admirer and his Seeker friends, openly enjoying the flattery.
Senator Cog deflated with a whine Orion couldn't hear but see escape his lips, not stupid enough to believe himself a worthy rival strength-wise. And thank Primus for that, Orion thought to himself, silently covering his optics with his massive hand, trying to nurse away the painful pounding in his processors.
When he lowered his hand again he accidently caught the optics of the Seeker. Had he been looking? Had he noticed them looking?
Orion Pax shuttered his optics off-and-on quickly, 'blinking' inquiring at the ruby-eyed Vosnian; still being felt up by the heavy-looking dock-worker he noticed.
He returned his attention to his almost-finished cube and considered offering the Senator to guide him safely back to the highway. As the mech had put it himself: no nibbles!
He hoped that the moping Elite had at least appreciated his efforts to get him out, get him laid . . . Just thinking that to himself made Orion growl in exasperation. To think that he could have been sleeping now? Ridiculous.
He quickly finished his high-grade, ready to pull his companion out of there but once again ended up locking optics with the red and blue Seeker. This time he also received a cheeky smile and a wink. Orion nearly dropped his jaw to the floor.
When the Seeker then decided to blow him a kiss everybody noticed, including the pursuing dock-worker whom the Vosnian was currently using as a chair. He didn't seem to like that very much.
"Er, Senator Cog, now might be a good time to-"
The Elite didn't move, looking paralyzed. When Orion hurriedly turned on his audio-receptors again all hell broke loose.
An audio-glitching shriek tore through Pax' head and he only turned around fast enough to see an enraged flash of red optics before the Seeker had jumped onto the table, sweeping off numerous full and empty cubes, sending them flying through the room.
The Seeker's possibly seventh drink was thrown harshly at the stunned mech's helmet where it shattered and successfully got him completely drenched in scarlet goo.
"FRAGGER!"
"Oh my sweet, confection-plated Primus . . . His voice!" The Senator looked like someone had asked him to wed a turbofox to a Praxian prince.
Orion, too, had winched at the grating sound of the tantrum-throwing Vosnian's vocalisor: screechy and rasping, completely belying his flawless, attractive design. And hearing it screaming at the top of his voice didn't help matters at all. Primus, but it added to his throbbing head.
And now that the Seeker was the absolute centre of attention, kicking and insulting the roaring dock-worker from his spot on the table, there was no stopping him.
"Who do you think you are? I don't care what you imagined in that primitive processors of yours when you tried wooing me with those laughable tricks but I can look at whomever I fancy," the winged mech hollered, seeming oblivious to the gathering of 'bots around him and his Seeker-friends. "- That's right, I'm a free mech!"
A few catcalls were heard whilst others grumbled inaudible remarks about the 'nerve of this brat'. Next thing shoves were given, more insults snarled. When the first fist collided with a face the entire bar joined in. Well, not Orion nor the Senator. The Seeker leader also seemed more content with posing on his pedestal, or the table, with other words, as he oversaw it all happen:
"Ladies and gentle'bots, feast your optics on tonight's unconquerably-, OOMPH!"
Orion watched as a group of femmes tackled him from behind, causing them all the land in a heap of limbs.
"Eeee-, get off, get off," he screeched, a flail of arms trying to wrestle the mech's femme-friends away, "- Cease this immediately! You're scratching a very expensive wax-job!"
One of the other Seekers was bodily lifted from the ground and sent flying across the bar where he crashed into the wall with a resounding bang. Cog made an undignified squeak before turning to see if the groaning mech had suffered any severe damage from the attack.
"Oh, some help you were," the red and blue howled as he managed to drag himself away from the clutches of the femmes, quickly zigzagging his way through all the brawling mechs towards the bar. He truly hadn't seen it coming when the smaller then suddenly decided to physically jump into Orion's arms, forcing them both to slam back against the bar.
"Yeah, you just come over, mechling! My big, strong lover here will tear you a new one!" The Seeker yelled at no one in particular. At least, the mech that had tried to score with him had vanished from sight a long time ago. Orion was bewildered and irritated beyond comprehension at the same time.
"Wha-"
"Haha, that's right! Take him down, friends, take them aaaall down," the smaller red and blue goaded triumphantly, mauling eagerly at Orion's grill, "- We'll conquer them, take their mechs, and heist their '-grade!"
"What's your malfunction?" Orion demanded harshly, pulling the clinging Seeker off his chest. That exotic face cracked a blinding smile as he lingered way-too-close and leaned dramatically against the taller.
"It's just a little fun, handsome," the dark face grinned up at him, completely ignoring the dumbfounded orange Elite just a few inches from them, "- We do this at every place we go to-"
"You think this is fun? Starting pointless fights?"
"Heeh, yeah, a little," the imp snickered as sly optics danced around, taking in all the chaotic struggle around them, "- 'S good to blow off some steam … 'M Starscream, by the way. You are?"
"Not interested."
"Aww-"
"I'm serious, stop touching me. Get out of our way now, please."
Behind them, inside the bar, a pair of dark optics were overseeing the situation of the commotion with little-to-no patience left.
"I truly couldn't give a slag about your petty, drunken scuffles, but the moment any of the furnishings are damaged I'm contacting the enforcers," snarled the bartender, looking remarkably calm with his arms crossed across his chest in the centre of the chaotic room as insults and screeching were exchanged back and forth like gunfire. "- I'm serious, don't push me. One more broken table and I swear to Primu-"
Craaaack
" . . . . . . "
"Oh dear," croaked the Senator, horrified optics seeking Orion's weary ones.
". . . Right, let's call it a night, shall we?"
The young Vosnian, Starscream, peaked out from behind Pax' broad shoulders, full lip-plates set in a pout.
"Aww, but things were finally getting fun!" he whined and Orion ex-vented irritably as he began prying the Seeker's busy, little fingers away from his transforming seams. "- I don't wanna go yet!"
"No one said you would be joining-"
"Com' on, we were hitting it off so well before," those damnable lips cracked in a devious grin, "- stick around for a little while! The party's first starting now . . ."
Orion was about to growl something as the mech trailed off but instead he similarly went quiet. Red optics locked with blue. Again.
"Orox, so help me," Cog whined before ducking his head to avoid a broken-off chair-leg thrown in his direction, "- I'll be having some difficulties explaining it to the others at the senate if I'm caught here and now by the enforcers! So please, get me out!"
"It's Orion," he hissed, his ache now a full-blown pang of agony, "- You've known me for long enough to remember my designation, don't you fraggin' dare!"
"Orion . . ." Starscream wiggled his optical-brows suggestively. "- How cute-"
"Enough of this slag, let's go," Orion heaved Cog out of his seat and towards the exit, pretending to ignore how Starscream was following them with a skip in his step.
Once outside Orion felt the dazed, agony-suffering state of his mind overwhelming him. He had to bring his companion to the highway, and fast. He could make out the distant blaring of the Enforcers' sirens as they raced towards them.
"This way is the safest," Starscream hissed from behind him, managing to both pinch and fondle Orion's aft as he passed by him to guide them away.
"Quickly, please," Cog whispered anxiously, pulling at him, "He's a bright one. Surely he knows the quickest way to escape!"
As Orion, optics twitching in annoyance, pain, and desperation, allowed the scrawny Elite to drag him down a side-alley that stank of something unfathomably horrid, he was tormented by a conundrum: why would he follow the little louse away from the bar?
And, no, of course he wasn't thinking about Cog. Obviously.
Starscream was way up ahead, peaking out between alleyways, waving them closer with one gesture, another making them halt. Sometimes he'd turn around, send Orion a wink or a hoarse 'Hurry the slag up, handsome!'.
He could barely keep himself from groaning with relief as they made it to the busy, noisy street; without being detected even once. Never had the uproar of engines sounded sweeter. The Senator tried shaking hands with an uninterested Starscream, whom were inspecting his fingers at the moment, before turning his attention on Orion. He smiled, orange body translating as a body that had seen a little too much excitement for one night.
"Oh, thank you so much for getting me out of there without the Enforcers noticing; it could only have led to disaster!"
"Yeah, sure. No problem . . ."
The highway roared with life and lights close by them but they were sheltered by a tall metal-fence, casting vast shadows over the grim, desolate street they had travelled on. Orion could see inner Iacon from there, see the gleaming towers, the radioactive night-sky shining down, bathing it in glory.
"Pity, such a dreadful end to an otherwise splendid evening. But, we're both grown, mature mechs, and thus we must handle this accordingly," Senator Cog ex-vented sorrowfully, shaking his head, "- I think it would be unwise for us to ever associate again, Orox."
Orion's spark skipped a pulse. Primus, don't do this to me.
"Wha'-, but . . . Sir, you can't possibly mean-"
"I'm devastated to end our acquaintance like this, dearest friend, but it's for the best! Imagine the outrage should we ever, even by accident, bring up this little escapee of ours," Cog transformed in an orange, messy frenzy, his awkward body wriggling into his alt-mode, "- You be on your merry way now, you king of the docks! I hope all your dreams come true."
"But that's not-"
"No 'buts', Orox!" the Senator's engine whined and coughed as he rolled out onto the highway, "- This is truly our farewell, sad it may be. But final."
" . . . . . . "
"It's 'Orion', actually," Starscream quipped after the rapidly retreating Elite.
"This is just-, no . . . Right, just slaggin' fantastic," Pax plowed his fist into the steel wall next to him, forcing it to bend and curve like a glove around his shaking servo.
"What?", Starscream demanded, a twinkle in his optic betraying his amusement at Orion's little display of temper, "- You can't possibly have liked that odd-'bot's company! Such a bore."
"I'll let you know, since you're so interested," Orion growled as he glared in the innocent-playing Vosnian's direction, "- That he was my only hope of entering the Academy. My one chance, possibly! And you had to ruin it with that petty, self-indulgent brawl of yours!"
Starscream's expression grimaced into one of pure revulsion.
"Ugh, Primus," the Seeker made gagging-sounds, "- don't tell me you planned on clanking metal with tha-"
"Wha', no! Absolutely not!
"Oh, thank Primus! Don't scare me like that!"
Orion Pax started stalking off, once again feeling his head throb as the insistent Seeker followed him into the darkness. He was very, very, very tempted to turn around and punch the imp's nose in, but . . . slaggit, he was above that.
"Why d'you wanna go to the Academy? Well, you just don't strike me as the science-kind-of-guy, no offense. I'm probably gonna do science someday, yeah . . . I have the processors for it, you see," Starscream continued, skipping up besides Orion, walking fast to keep track, "- You're not overly observant, a little thick, even. I find it hard to imagine what you'd want to achieve-"
"Could you by any chance keep quiet for just a nano-klik?"
"Sure! If you follow me in here to avoid the Enforcers' attention up ahead."
"What?"
Starscream pulled him into the darkness of a shack, pressing his lip-plates to Orion's as the proceeding action. His jaw went slack as he stood silently, letting the Seeker make all the required movement, give all the needed pressure to make the kiss look engaging and consensual.
It wasn't until the Orion noticed the Enforcers glancing in, observing, that he lifted his arms to encircle the Vosnian's slim waist. He tried not to flinch when Starscream moaned against him.
For the longest time he feared that the Enforcers were either going to stay there and watch or take them to HQ. But instead they withdrew from the doorway, looking disinterested, before heading off.
Starscream retracted his lips reluctantly.
"You're not a bad kisser, per say," he smirked crookedly, "- But maaaybe a tad too passive for my liking."
"Maybe I simply wasn't prepared for me being dragged away and molested tonight, how's that?", Orion stomped out, pointedly ignoring the glossa poking out at him.
"You know what your problem is-?"
"Yes, I do, actually!" Orion had had it. He spun around, flexing his arms and hands in anger, "- I'm stuck working at the docks for the rest of my life. I wanted to go to the Academy, join whatever possible for me. And, no, it never had to be science! I had a chance as a Senator's patron, a title that could have gotten me anywhere I wanted, but that didn't work out since a childish, selfish, completely-lacking-of-charm Seeker found it funny to initiate a bar-fight. That's my problem!"
"Geez, get over yourself!" Starscream snapped, optics narrowing, "- You're problem is that you're big head is so full of moody thoughts and pessimism that you can't even see the simplest of solutions. You have to let every single failure become more meaningful than it has to be. There's always a way . . . And I am not lacking charm! I'm literally oozing charm!"
"Oh, get over yourself!"
The Seeker stepped closer, dark face ablaze with frustration.
"Hypocrite."
"Malign brat."
"Cutie."
"Sla-, wha'- … Oh, lay off!"
Orion turned his back on the somehow suddenly grinning Seeker. Hopefully he'd fly away, at least if he ignored him for good this time. He tensed put refused to speak when he felt the warm hand of the other on his shoulder.
" . . . It's easy, you miserable fool," he rasped, voice hoarser than before from all the arguing, "- Don't make it more complicated than it has to be."
When Orion still didn't respond then the hand was removed. He couldn't, however, contain his startled yelp as he received a hard kick to his aft; the flaming heat of an on-lining turbine scorching his plating.
"Primus, damn you, why do you make everything more complicated than they have to be?" Starscream exclaimed in a furious voice, "- Credit's your real problem here? Go and join the fraggin' Military Academy! Last time I checked it didn't cost anything, except a lot of fraggin' hard work! If that's all you really want, an 'Academy' in the title, then you have it there! Just stop that snivelling, it's pathetic."
Orion didn't know what to say.
It was . . . Well, true. The Iacon Military Academy was free and for everybody. All he really had to do was sign some papers and let them decide where he would be best fitted. He'd receive education, a change of living situation, a future with doors to choose between. Everything he'd ever wanted, really.
"Like I said: cute, but thick . . . Have a blast butting heads at the 'Cademy!"
When Orion turned around again to address the Seeker, pit, maybe even thank the Seeker for his 'help' he was nearly choked in exhaust steams. A blur of red and blue, the ghost of a white grin on a dark face, exotic optics teasing him . . . Then there was only a line of fire and smoke across the sky where the Vosnian had flown, disappearing into the night.
He hadn't seemed interested waiting for Orion to make his decision, to maybe take credit for laying out a lost mech's future for him. Accepting his gratitude.
Not that it mattered, Orion mused to himself as he went on his way back home, inner Iacon twinkling far away, beckoning him closer, as it lay lit in nightly colours. Colours of a Seeker with a haughty grin and viciously delightful lips.
It wasn't like he'd ever see Starscream again.
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A/N: That's all, folks! But, please, since this was unbetaed and undoubtedly full of horrible grammar-errors and such (staying up until 2 AM writing to make the deadline will do that to your already scrambling English) - feel free to point out any glaring mistakes :) Otherwise, I'd love a review or two if you have a minute.
Take Care! See you all real soon in another story