13 – Departed And I seem to think
That you were once here with me
Could be I was wrong
You were moving on
Lostprophets – Shinobi vs. Dragon Ninja
Purgatory wished he had never got up that morning.
Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. A femme had self destructed when she was captured, killing four of his some of his best workers. Not only that, but he had had three Sparks die on him while performing experiments. The base was in chaos, and he had to deal with incompetent workers who couldn't tell the difference between an energon fire extinguisher and a chemical fire extinguisher.
Needless to say, when Purgatory slammed the door to his room, everyone in the base knew they had better not bother him. Right now all the 'copter wanted to do was get royally wasted, so he started mixing up a very strong fireball to do just that.
Suddenly his console activated with an incoming call and he jolted up just as he was about to sip his drink... and he shattered it in his hand. Gods, what else could go wrong today?! Now he was being denied getting thoroughly pissed too?
"I hate being abandoned." A familiar voice came out of the speakers as Purgatory almost stabbed the screen, but that made him stop. The voice was familiar, but he didn't know Primacron slurred. "I hate it, hate it, hate... hate... hate..."
"Primacron, I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone."
A drink sloshed audibly through the comm-link and the 'copter suddenly wondered how many Primacron had drank. "Who plugged you and made you the god here, mortal?" his words slurred so bad that Purgatory had a lot of trouble understanding him. But what shocked him a little was that it was the first time he had heard the seeker swear. "Cronus left. Slagging plugger left and you're complaining about me pissing off?"
So, the god was royally plastered. But Purgatory was still a bit too pissed off to take in the news that Cronus had left. Honestly, who cared about the stupid dragon god and his soon-to-be slut of a son? "Considering that stupid dragon wanted to kill you and such, I don't see why you care that he's gone. Now will you excuse me? I would like to get thoroughly drunk off my slagging face."
The god laughed, "C'mon over here and lets plaster each other then, plug-face. Let's drown our sorrows in mutual misery and debauchery until we wake up tomorrow without a single memory of a terrible yesterday."
"Fine." Purgatory growled, muttering about stupid seekers and why the hell he tolerated Primacron calling him when normally he liked to get into drunken rages alone. "Be there in an hour." And he rudely shut off the comm-link. He didn't even bother bringing over something this time; normally he would bring some toys or maybe a new food to try, or maybe a recipe to make for them both to indulge in. But this time he simply got in his ship, typed in the coordinates, sat back in his chair and fumed at the nerve of Primacron delaying his drinking time. And why the slag did he agree to this? Bah. He didn't give two shits at the moment, nor did he consider that maybe drinking with Primacron wouldn't be so bad after all. But when the 'copter got angry, he didn't consider all of the possibilities like he normally did when he wasn't upset.
Purgatory landed his ship and walked out, typed in his code on the front door's security pad before he walked into the base, almost mechanical in his movements. He entered the room with the bar and spotted Primacron staggering around the room like a drunken fool, a drink waiting for him on the bar top.
"Sit down before you fall over." Purgatory growled at him in his way of saying hello before he sat down himself, picking up the very dark drink on the bar and taking a gulp.
His optics nearly popped out of his head when he tasted the almost fiery strong black energon. He looked down at it and drank some more!
"Lighten up, anger gives one wrinkles like me." Clearly the seeker was very drunk for him to say that, the mortal thought to himself as Primacron snickered and drifted back to the bar, openly eyeing Purgatory while he fooled with the end of his own cape. He was acting like a total, blithering idiot that was nothing like the dignified god he normally was.
"Why so angry today?" The god slurred.
The mortal snorted and he was getting very drunk very fast from that potent drink. "Everything that could have gone wrong today did. Sparks died, workers died, now I've gotta replace 'em." He slammed the half empty drink down on the bar top and glared at Primacron, fangs bared, "And that takes time and I do not like having my time wasted." He went back to his drink with a huff.
The god leaned over and rubbed Purgatory's knee with his claws, scraping it up a bit carelessly. "Control of the situation slipped from your grasp... it's the ugliest feeling in the universe, losing control. Except when I overload..." It seemed that the smaller mech realised this wasn't cheering his companion up at all, so he said more seriously, "Look under the western graveyard on Cybertron--under a white mausoleum is a gathering place for Primacronian's. Some are looking for work, y'know...dirty work like yours."
Purgatory looked at the god and eyed him, drunk enough to start feeling warm and buzzed, but not enough to not notice little things like how different Primacron was when drunk. Eh, he would think more on it when he woke up in the morning, if he remembered. The mortal nodded, "I'll do that. Right now? I want to get as wasted as you are. Why the bugger are you this drunk anyway?"
He had totally forgotten what the god had said back at his base because blind anger often made him block out words, and the energon as well. He had not even really registered completely that Cronus and Oblivion were gone.
Primacron didn't seem to mind repeating himself in his drunken state, or maybe the god didn't remember telling him, either. "Notice the lack of dragon and his snivelling child? He's gone. I'm alone. I hate it...I hate him for leaving." The god grumbled and hid his face in his palm like he couldn't stand the lights in the room. "I suspect they went on to Unicron, and he's difficult to track. Mmh."
"Uugh, who gives a slag about that stupid dragon and his little brat?" The 'copter sneered and drank the rest of his drink, now nicely toasted. He was even starting to slur, "Uuuugh, being alone sucks. I'm sorda not alone, yet I'm alone. S'weird isn't it?" He poured himself another drink and splattered half of it on the bench.
"Did those Sparks splatter when they died, or were they disappointing fizzles?" Primacron asked with a rather scary mellow grin on his face.
"They went BOOM!" Purgatory said dramatically, complete with hand movements to describe an explosion in motion.
The god gawked and then cracked up laughing like that was the funniest thing in the world. "Boom! Oh yes, I like that sound..."
"Mmm, booooooooom, it went." Purgatory said, totally slurring the boom sound so it sounded pretty stupid from an outsider, but accurate to him. He drank whatever he had poured out and it was raw diesel, so he tilted his head back and drank the lot down.
The god snorted repeatedly in laugher and then flopped against Purgatory's chest, leaning on him as if he couldn't stand up on his own, and the 'copter almost fell off his chair from the sudden extra weight. "You have old plasma on you." He sucked it off clumsily, and then he reached up to scratch his face and shattered his own optic with his fingers. "Half of you just disappeared. Stop that."
"Heeeeeeeey, your optic went black. Whatcha do that for?" Purgatory mumbled. The mortal picked up some oil truffles ... or what he thought was oil truffles and tried to feed the god, but ended up splattering a rust cookie all over his face. "...why's your face rusting?"
Primacron scraped the cookie off with the hand that was still stuck partly in his optic socket, and he pulled out wires, energon dribbling from the wound he had just yanked open. And he didn't even realize it, by the looks of things. "S'rust cookie, you moron." He sat back and looked over at the corridor where Cronus usually stormed in from and sighed, and then he winced. "My face hurts."
"Duh, you got a black eye." The mortal slurred and grabbed some more bottles of things and poured about five chemicals into his glass, stirring it with his finger. Little did he know he had combined turpentine, dry ice, oil, energon and diesel in the one glass and it turned a sludgy brown colour. Oh, he'd be throwing up badly in the morning as he knocked back his new drink.
"Want some?" Purgatory offered to his companion. Primacron pulled a face and refused. The god held the side of his face that obviously hurt and said, "Mmh... alone... I loathe it, hate it, detest it, lament it... and it's all I've known."
"S'why I has workers, ya see. And ugh..." He tossed the drink he made into a wall and gagged, "That is yucky. I want something nicer." And he put his head in Primacron's lap and pulled off his codpiece with his teeth, "Mmm, this looks better." And he started sucking him right there and then.
Purgatory didn't notice Primacron stuff a napkin in the socket of his fragged eye as the god dug both hands into the sides of Purgatory's head, and then started to thrust up into his mouth. "Ohhhhhh... slag," he growled.
"Mmmghpthdhg." The 'copter mumbled in drunk speak for 'stop moving!', so he had the sense of mind to hold the god's hips and suck harder, scraping his teeth a little before sucking more, "mmmgh..." 'Tasty rust stick.' He mumbled in his head.
Primacron overloaded all of a sudden and spilt lube all over the mortal's his chin. The 'copter moved his mouth down to lap up the dripping lube, making a content sound, "Mmmm, I'm ...I'ma gonna call this a Primacron. Yeah, a Primacron." He licked his lips and pulled back.
Primacron stood up suddenly and knocked the larger mech off his stool, then got down between Purgatory's legs to shove his tongue up the spiked port, which was unusual because Primacron usually attacked the mortal's jack, not his port, with his mouth.
The 'copter fell back with a huge crash and sort of whined, "I've fallen, I've fallen!... and I can't get back up. Ooooiii, Primacron, help meeeee---.... oooh, that feels nice." He mumbled and put his legs up in the air before folding them. Primacron would taste a spicy flavour with a hint of sweetness, sort of like turpentine. Purgatory had tasted his own lubricant before, out of curiosity, and found he liked the flavour.
The god continued to lick so it was clear he was enjoying the taste. "Mmm...tasthtes lahk lum."
The 'copter understood that to mean 'tastes like yum.'
Purgatory moaned way louder than he usually would at simply having a blowjob right off the bat, "Hey, heeeeeeeeeeeeeey... Primacron? I think I like you. Yeah. you'rereallysexyyouknowthat?" As he wiggled his aft a bit to get more tongue.
The god grabbed the 'copter's jack and started stroking it in opposite timing of his thrusting tongue--pulling up as he's going in and stroking down as he's pulling out. But sometimes he reversed the movements without warning. The 'copter he moaned like a little slut because drunk or not, he could feel the pleasure and he was enjoying it... just a bit less than he would be if he was sober.
"Bet your slagging aft I am." Purgatory noticed even in his drunk state that Primacron's voice slurred, but his telepathy was still clear.
"Uuuugh, you... mmmmgh, would look soooooo sexy if you danced." Purgatory had not a clue what he was babbling on about now.
The god froze and stopped right there. He sat back, frowning at him, as though it was not something he wanted hear in that moment, drunk or not.
Purgatory blinked a bit when the pleasure stopped and he wasn't even aware that he had pissed the god off. So he looked up and looked, then flopped back against the ground. "M' horny ... I think."
Primacron folded his arms and pouted at the mortal on the ground, then stood up so he could stand over him, then spoke slowly, taking care to pronounce the words clearly. "I hate music."
"Mmm don't need music ta dance." The mortal mumbled, rolling onto his side and after three tries he finally sat up, "All different kindsa dancin'... lap dances don't need music, silly."
"Hmph! Cronus is gone." Primacron changed the subject, although the 'copter didn't really care. "He's slagging gone. After all I provide he abandons me. The fool… so weak!" The god suddenly kicked over a stool, barely missing Purgatory's head with it. "FOOL!"
The 'copter ducked and flopped over in the process on his side. "Ouch." He grumbled and pushed himself back up. "You don't need ta worry. I won't leave you, my god." He looked at the seeker a little more steadily and repeated himself, "M' wont leave you."
Those words seemed to calm the god down, but he glared over at him as though he was considering something. But all of a sudden he leaned over and purged hard all over his own feet. And then he saw what he did and had a second wave all over the stool he knocked over.
"Ewwww..." Purg wrinkled his nose at the god, "Since when does vomit glow?" And then he wobbled where he sat, "Ugh.... think I'm gonna.... BLEAGH!" He leaned over and threw up himself, a huge puddle forming in front of him. He pulled a disgusted face at the mess and Primacron vomited a third time, as though the vomiting was contagious. The cleaning drones came in and started to clean up the mess and then the god said quietly, "You... won't leave?"
"Why'd I do that?" Purgatory asked, and the mortal felt and looked a bit tired now. "M'got no reason to leave ya. You're .... someone I like a lot." And he smiled a bit at him and laughed at nothing, "heh, heh, besides, never liked Cronus much anyway. He was a stupid dragon bot..."
The god didn't move until his feet were clean of the vomit. His eye must really hurt now, and his face showed it more than he'd let it while sober. "Stupid is the only constant company I had besides that brat of his. Hmph. Cowards..."
Purgatory tried to get up and wobbled a bit before standing completely. "I wouldn't worry 'bout it. You've got much better company with your worshipers n' me... if ya want me." And he walked over to kiss him but slipped on nothing. He crashed into the god and fell hard on top of him.
"Mmm, like you..." Purgatory mumbled, half asleep.
It was a good thing the god could handle weight like his or he'd be a dead mech. The seeker seemed to realise that the 'copter was in no shape to move, so he hauled him up over his shoulder--like an ant with an elephant almost--and carried him to his quarters where the seeker dumped him on the circular, cushioned berth.
Purgatory snored away where he landed on his side, and mumbled, "Vos sumus ingurgito...." In his sleep, but that was all he said. In standard Cybertronian, it translated to 'you are gorgeous.'
In his dozing state, the 'copter felt Primacron curl up next to him and then start to bring him pleasure somehow. He didn't know if it was in his dreams or if it was real, but when he finally drifted into a real sleep, he was one content mortal.
Purgatory woke up late in the morning and immediately shut off his optics with a groan of pain. He tried to roll over but found someone clinging to him so he didn't bother, and he muttered several choice swear words in his mind before opening his optics....
And he almost had a Spark failure when he saw the state of the optics of the bot next to him.
Purgatory shook the god's shoulder, "Primacron, wake up!" He hissed.
The god slapped his hand away and turned over, facedown, all kinds of disgusting muck leaking out of that eye socket now that it had festered all night.
The 'copter poked the seeker's back urgently. "Primacron!" he hissed.
"Face hurts," the smaller bot mumbled groggily.
"Yeah, cause your eye is busted and leaking all kinds of muck."
".....w-what?!" Primacron sat up so fast it almost made Purgatory dizzy to watch, and from the way Primacron gripped his own head, he must have felt the same way.
"Your. Eye. Is. Fragged." Purgatory said, gawking at it. "What the heck did we do last night?!" He rubbed his own head and tried not to output.
"...I was hoping you'd know. And you're in my bed, so it can't be too awful." The seeker tried to rub the eye and he winced visibly.
"Sex is the least of my problems." Purgatory grumbled, "I feel like I drank sludge. Excuse me." He got up and went into the god's bathroom and checked to see if he could soundproof it. But when he found he couldn't, he simply leaned over the waste receptacle and vomited up everything he had drank the previous night.
The mortal made sure the vomit was gone and then washed his face, putting his hands on the basin and sighing. Ugh, he felt like crap and he hated feeling like crap. Ah well... there wasn't much he could do about it except sleep it off. He walked out and rubbed his head some more, "I'm gonna make some Hair of the Dog. Want one too?"
"Cube of high grade. Nothing added." The god peeked at the mirror above his berth to inspect the damage done to his face and pulled an irritated expression at his reflection. "Great." He grumbled.
Meanwhile, Purgatory went to get them both a drink and came back several minutes later, looking slightly better. He passed the cube to Primacron and sat down on the bed with his own, drinking it, "Will your optic heal?"
"Without repairs?" Primacron took the drink and sipped it slowly, "It's quicker to repair it. And in this state..." he held up a shaking hand, "...I don't dare attempt it."
"I'd probably butcher you worse, unless you want to guide me?" Purgatory could do some repairs, except for really complicated procedures, with guidance, but he didn't know if he could repair an optic. He sipped his drink a bit more to try and wake up and stop the pounding in his head.
The seeker leaned closer, "First off, just tell me if there's any glass still inside. We will go from there."
"Okay." He leaned closer and peered into the socket, and spotted a shard. "One shard."
"Get it out. It's what hurts." Primacron grumbled.
"O-okay." Purgatory said and grabbed a pair of tweezers sitting on the top of the bedside table often used for getting out bits of stuff from between claws. Ah, it'd do. He reached in, holding the god's head with his other hand as he plucked the shard out like getting out an eyelash from a human's eye and placed it down on the bedside table. Primacron relaxed immediately once it was pulled out.
"So what now?" The mortal asked as he sat back.
Primacron un-subspaced his medical tools for minor repairs and there were supplies for new optics inside. The first thing Primacron did was literally rip away the broken glass still covering the socket with barely a flinch. "You need to weld a new glass cover over the eyeball."
The mortal nodded, "Alright." He took the tools as Primacron handed them to him and pressed the new optic plate to his eye, and took the welder, then began to weld the glass on as carefully as he could, even though the bright light of the welder hurt his head.
Primacron sat perfectly still throughout the whole thing, and strangely this activity forced them to look into each other's eyes... but Primacron didn't even try to look elsewhere. It would just make the situation more awkward, and the mortal knew it.
"You're good with your hands." The smaller mech said softly.
Purgatory stopped welding for a moment to inspect what he had done to make sure he was doing it right, and smiled a little, "Thank you." Then he returned to welding. Because he was concentrating so hard on what he was doing, he barely noticed that they were looking straight at each other.
Somehow, during the time that the 'copter had got three quarters of the way around the socket, the seeker's long hand ended up cupping the side of the mortal's face, his claws dangerously close to his eye. It almost felt like a warning not to mess up, but Purgatory dismissed it because it was merely the length of the god's fingers that caused them to fall in that spot.
"I apologize for anything embarrassing I may have done to you last night. Let's hope neither of us remember it as the day wears on. And if we do, shall we not speak on it?"
Purgatory finished the last dot just as Primacron spoke, and it caused him to jump a little since he had been so deep in concentration that the sudden voice was a shock.
"Oh, yeah." He looked sheepish, "To be honest? I've had my fair share of embarrassing moments while plastered when I was a lot younger. Kinda used to it." He set the tools aside, "There, test your eye?"
Primacron lit it and ran a few tests, then smiled. "And you say you're terrible at repair work. Don't..." It was at that moment he seemed to realize where his hand was and paused, "...be so silly."
"I'm terrible without guidance." The 'copter with a wry smirk… but why was he staring at Primacron in the eyes all of a sudden?
The two of them paused for a moment, as Primacron did not move his hand, and if the god had have had a silver face, the 'copter would have realised why he felt a slight increase in heat from Primacron's face. The seeker was blushing!
Slowly, the god slid his hand down the mortal's face and away from his body and touched his own cheek with it, then said softly, "I might come to visit you more now that Cronus is gone."
"I'd like that a lot." The larger mech replied, and then he froze when he realised what he was saying and said, "I'd like to show you what I've accomplished once I fix the blunders from yesterday. But I need to rest, I think. Hangovers are horrid creations."
Primacron gestured to the berth. "Sleep as long as you want." And he smiled, "I'll be cleaning up downstairs."
Purgatory nodded to that, "Alright." He flopped on the berth on his front. "Poke me awake or something if you need me."
Primacron slapped Purgatory's aft before he got up and then threw a blanket completely over him--and it was such a huge blanket that it buried him. "Have dirty dreams."
"Ack, hey! And I will." Purgatory snickered at the blanket and moved it so his head was visible and then offlined his optics without another word to slip into a light sleep. He didn't notice it when Primacron left and then returned to lay beside him. He mumbled something in ancient about Sparks before turning his head towards Primacron, face peaceful and optics dark. They were quite a contrast on his silver face.
The 'copter eventually grimaced in his sleep and slowly woke up after a couple of hours rest... to be met with the sight of Primacron looking right at him, lying with his head resting on his folded arms. He blinked and put a hand over his mouth as he yawned into it. "Hello," He mumbled, "I feel a bit better. You?"
The seeker rapped his fingers against each other, making a clank sound of metal on metal. "Just fine." The god had brought back a plate of rust sticks, oil truffles and energon while Purgatory had been sleeping, the mortal noticed, and he watched as the mech beside him plucked an oil truffle off the tray and reached forward to rub it against Purgatory's bottom lip. "I scrounged up a snack."
"Oh?" Purgatory took truffle right off those sharp fingers with his lips, eating it and then saying, "Mmm, food from the gods, quite literally. What did I do to deserve such a treat?" he purred.
Primacron shrugged one narrow shoulder. "I have an abundance of oil truffles and rust sticks since they're great for nibbling on." Oil got on his finger and he brought it to his mouth to innocently lick it off. Then he picked up one of the rust sticks and started to move it in and out of his mouth to get the loose rust off, the same movement the god used to blowjob a jack.
"I was playing." The larger mech watched, and inwardly cursed himself because why did he think that everything Primacron did was a bloody turn-on? Gaaaah. So the 'copter snickered to cover the inward awkwardness and sat up, rubbing his head a bit to make sure he wasn't in too much pain to not be able to pilot his ship home.
Primacron licked the loose rust off his lips and then finally ate the stick, and after he was done he looked over at Purgatory. "If you're still in no flying condition, I could always pilot your ship. It can't be too hard. It'll give me an excuse to haunt your base."
The 'copter folded up a leg and rested his arm on it, looking down at Primacron before patting one of those long legs. "I'll be alright in a few hours. But you can still come and haunt my base if you want."
The god flexed his leg and then said, "That's true," with a snicker.
"But in the mean time---" The 'copter suddenly got an image from the night before of Primacron acting like a complete idiot and he let the god see the same image, and he snorted with laughter. "Oh gods ... did I really mix that horrid drink and offer it to you? No wonder I was sick this morning!"
"I didn't drink any. I vomited enough on my own, thank you very much." The god sniffed, and the mortal looked very amused.
"I have no idea how much you vomited and nor do I want to know." Purgatory replied, pulling a face at the idea. It was then that he got a call from Flatline and said, "Excuse me. What, Flatline? ... hung over, thanks for asking." The mortal did an epic face-falter, "So what if I forgot?! People do forget things you know!" He listened for a few moments and then growled, "Fine. I'll be there later." He shut off the line and turned back to Primacron, "I have to get back to work."
The seeker leaned over and gave his companion a lewd kiss, then smirked, "Then take some with you." He unsubspaced a box not unlike those in Cybertronian restaurants and boxed some of the treats. They were the really expensive kind, ironically straight from Unicron, which was obvious by the Minicon symbol stamped on each truffle.
"These rust sticks are home-made." He closed the lid after gathering a collection of both and handed him the stainless steel "doggie" box.
Purgatory held the box in his hands ... and the look on his face was like Primacron had just handed a human diamonds. Despite having money now, sometimes he did revert back to the amazement of receiving something so expensive because for a long time he could never have afforded such a thing. But the look passed after a moment and he smiled graciously, "Thank you. I'll make sure to enjoy them greatly."
"Good, because one truffle and one rust stick have been up my port." Primacron grinned like a fiend and bent his knees so his feet were sticking up in the air behind his head. "Now get out of here and go to work."
Purgatory gave his aft a slap for that, "You pervert." He snickered and then waved, "See you." And the mortal winked before heading off, a smile on his face.