Deckerd x Gunmax
Rated M for Mature
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Gunmax a criminal? It couldn't be. The mech hardly been in Japan long enough to be one. Than again Deckerd hadn't know the biker mechs history in the US. Hell for all they know he could have been a dirty cop. The more the leader thought about it, the more he started becoming all-consuming by the highway patrol mech. The way he talked when he was anywhere near Deckerd, the slight canter of his hips when Gunmax sits on his desk while the tries to do his paperwork, always being so sexual while he cleans his revolver to a prostean shine were Deckerd could see Gunmax's glow of the visor. It was like the mech was purposely wanting to have Deckerd watch him clean his gun. The way he treats the revolver was like it was a lover to him. The words 'babe' would occasionally be heard from the other side of the room. Deckerd had stopped writing his report when he first heard that thinking he had been hearing things, but shrugs it off once the leader heard it again, this time said mech looked directly at Gunmax. Deckerd was taken aback for a few minutes before he composure his facial expression as the watched Gunmax's hand wrapped around the barrel of his revolver gently sliding his hand up and then back down the length. Gunmax couldn't help but let the corner of his mouth curl up in a smirk. He knew, and now had Deckard's full attention on himself. He could very easily feel Deckerd's optics watching his every move, more or less his hand stroking his gun's barrel. Oh, yes totally worth getting the patoka to notice him, but he didn't think it would of taken so long.
As he came into the window
It was the sound of a crescendo
He came into her apartment
He left the bloodstains on the carpet
She ran underneath the table
He could see she was unable
So she ran into the bedroom
She was struck down, it was her doom
