Darkness and Lightning 09: Knighting a Shadow
A large black mech walked along the corridors of the Knight's Citadel, heading to the levels where his creation and creation's mate had their quarters. Other Knights he passed bowed respectfully to Axe as he passed them, the black Knight mostly ignoring them as he walked.
Reaching Wing's quarters, Axe knocked sharply on the door, waiting briefly while the door unlocked and slid aside to admit him. Two pairs of optics, one red and one gold, lifted to meet his blue as Axe stepped into the room. Drift was on the far side of the room, Wing draped over his shoulders, their armor almost seeming to fade into each other in some places.
"It is time," Axe rumbled, walking across the room toward them.
Without a sound, Drift rose to one knee and offered his Great Sword on the back of two outstretched wrists, Wing letting go and drawing back slightly but not going far. The Great Sword's hilt gem flickered briefly, but otherwise Too Pure For This World did not react. It knew what was happening and it was not sure it liked it.
Axe took the Great Sword, regarding its bearer through slightly narrowed blue optics. "Wing has explained to you what is expected of you?"
"Yes, Master Axe," Drift's tone was respectful, something that Axe had earned over the long vorns of Drift's training. No one was fooled into thinking he was loyal to the black Knight, but Axe still took it as it was meant - Drift accepted him as a leader.
Axe regarded the two mechs silently for a long moment. Wing was visibly nervous even though he was keeping his field close to his frame. Drift was harder to read, though after the vorns Axe had gathered enough bits of Drift's history to have a firm grasp on why. Drift had survived enough before coming here to fit right in, but also had endured insane leadership long enough that he not longer feared it. Blue optics scrutinized Drift for a moment before the black Knight finally nodded ever so slightly, turning to leave the room.
It was time for Drift to become one of the Knights of Shadow. The gray and black mech's Great Sword would be placed within the vault with the unbonded Great Swords, and then Drift would be brought in to choose his Great Sword from among all the others.
Dai Atlas lurked near the vault, his red optics watching balefully as Axe approached with Drift's Great Sword. The blue mech was still no fan of Drift, though he had accepted Drift's presence. With great reluctance and no few fights.
Ignoring his mate's glower, Axe coded open the door to the vault, stepping inside. The overhead lights caught in the gems of the Great Swords lining the walls, reflecting in every color of the spectrum. The gems glowed as the Swords greeted their comrades, a multi-toned hum only those bonded to a Great Sword could hear. Axe could feel his own Sentry of Balance responding as he crossed the vault, setting Too Pure For This World into one of the empty brackets.
The black Knight lingered for several kliks, waiting for Sentry of Balance to finish its communion with the others. He'd learned the hard way that Great Swords did not like being interrupted. When the Great Sword chatter finally wrapped up, Axe turned on his heel and left the vault, heading back up into the residence tower to retrieve Drift and Wing. He was still irritated with his creation over his need to be along, but he couldn't complain. Not with all that Wing had consented to for the privileges he'd been granted.
Privately, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what they did to get Drift so well polished and perfectly detailed. He knew the pair did very little but interface. Really, their lack of ambition to do anything but indulge in the carnal arts was one of the bonuses of having Drift around.
Wing got into so much less trouble. He was far easier to threaten as well.
Snorting to himself at that line of thought, Axe made his way back to Wing and Drift's quarters. Yes, Drift's presence did have its good points. Sometimes.
Wing was almost vibrating with nervousness as Axe reappeared at his door. The dark jet was practically adhered to Drift's side. Axe gave him a flat look, then gestured sharply for both to follow him. Their reactions made one think it was Wing trying to claim a Great Sword, not Drift.
The gray and black grounder was just too calm as they walked in silence to the Great Sword vault. Before the vault door was opened, Drift turned his optics off as required. This test, and it was a test even for him, was about listening to his spark and to the Great Swords around him. A large hand on his shoulder guided him to a pace before the first of the unclaimed blades, then let him go as its owner backed off watch.
At least according to Axe, it was possible for a Great Sword to kill a mech trying to claim it. He even provided the designation of the Initiate that had failed this test. Several others had been knocked on their afts with smoking circuits, but went on to choose correctly after the pointed rejection. Wing knew this from first hand accounts, though he'd had no such difficulties.
For Drift, the difficult part was to go through with the steps and touch each Great Sword. He knew where his was, but it was part of the rite to check every one of them by touch.
One by one, the Great Swords accepted his touch and brush of his field, but pushed back to move on, which he did without question or fear of reaching the end without being accepted. When he came to Too Pure For This World his spark and the Great Sword sang to each other, a caress he had long known but never stopped to appreciate. Reluctantly Drift moved on, following the path to greet the rest of the blades. Yet even in that reunion touch, he knew that his bond with Too Pure For This World would never be what it was between most Knights and their Great Swords. At best he and Too Pure For This World had an uneasy truce, an acceptance of their mutual fate but no common ground other than the Wing from another world.
When his fingers touched another Great Sword down the line, it startled him into stopping dead. This blade wanted to be his. It felt so right to his spark it was painful.
Axe tilted his helm slightly to one side, watching with interest. This was new, but then, no other Knight of Shadow had been bonded to a Great Sword before they even started training. Crossing his arms over his chest, the black Knight watched, interested in seeing how this turned out.
Next to the large triple changer, Wing fidgeted in place but otherwise didn't move, knowing that if he ventured into the vault he would be breaking rules and would draw a penance for it. He settled for shifting his weight from side to side, armor plates partly flattened to his frame, nacelle pinions on end.
Dai Atlas glared over his mate's shoulder, watching Drift's every move. The blue giant made a deep rumble, but kept his acidic comments to himself.
They watched as Drift quivered, uncertain how to respond, knowing that he had to make a choice without any help and that what he did in the next moment would determine much of his remaining function.
He already had a bond with Too Pure For This World, but it had never been his. It had changed him to suit its desires, something he still hated when he allowed himself to think about it. Their bond was a volatile one at the best of times.
Here was a Great Sword that resonated with him the way Wing's did with him, the way he knew it should. Drift had so long ago accepted that such a bond was simply not for him, that Wing was his gift from Primus, that nothing could come close to feeling that right, and yet here it was.
A faint tremor passed through him as he flattened his palm against the gem, seeking to explore this, to understand before he chose. It didn't matter that he knew the choice had been made long ago. Part of him still forced him to torture himself with what could be, to reach out for what he would always be denied and forced to watch others have. His spark literally cried out as Stormsurge of War tried to bond with him right there. It truly was trying to steal him from his existing bond and his spark was all for it.
It was enough to drop Drift to his knees with an agonized keen that no penance had ever drawn from him.
A large dark hand clamped down on Wing's shoulder to keep the dark jet from moving, Axe growling at his creation. Wing subsided slowly, biting into his knuckle to keep from crying out to Drift. Axe glared at him for a moment, then turned his attention back to Drift, waiting to see what the gray and black mech would do. They could all feel the Great Sword's demand, its claim that this was its mech.
Somehow Drift pushed himself to his pedes. His spark howled in distress, but no matter how badly spark and Great Sword wanted it, he was already bound to Too Pure For This World. This was not a choice. It was nothing more than a punishment to give himself over the past, over failing Wing and permitting his love to die for him, because of him.
Yet as his fingers came near the Great Sword, it spoke of options, whispered that the bond could be broken if Drift accepted a new Great Sword, and that Great Sword was strong enough to win him. That it was strong enough, and it was willing to fight for him.
Drift stumbled again, leaning hard against the wall with his fingers still on the blade of this Great Sword that resonated so strongly with him.
It was willing to fight for him? Truly?
With a deep, shuddering intake Drift took the plunge and accepted the offer.
Axe's optic ridges went up in surprise, and Dai Atlas let out a surprised grunt from behind him. Wing's audial fins and wings flared out as he stared at his mate. This was something none of the three had ever expected. Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Despite the strongest block they could manage on their bond, the intense pain of Drift's spark as a several millennia-old bond was challenged and sheared apart thread by thread crashed through almost unhindered.
Wing keened around his own knuckle, still clenched tightly between his dentas hard enough to leave clear impressions. He leaned against the wall, his whole body shivering, feeling every bit of the pain as the bond Drift had with his Great Sword broke. After a moment, the dark jet's legs gave way. Wing collapsed, curling into a tight ball. Axe looked down at him, helm tilted to one side, while Dai Atlas just stared.
Beyond their reach Drift was on his knees, silent but in obvious pain as he forced himself to remain upright enough to maintain contact with the Great Sword who'd claimed him. Energy wrapped around them both, crackling and dancing, lashing out at anything within reach. From its brackets Too Pure For This World also lashed out, struggling to keep the bond it had become so familiar with.
It was Drift's will, the push of his spark, that made the final choice.
Too Pure For This World would simply have to wait for another to bear it. Drift belonged with another, and they had claimed each other.
Wing's pained keening finally faded into a soft whimper. The dark jet hadn't moved, still curled into a ball on the floor. Axe and Dai Atlas had their full attention on what was going on between Drift and the two Great Swords, ignoring the whimpering mech next to them.
They watched as Drift struggled to his pedes and blindly worked his way along the wall to touch each of the remaining Great Swords. There was no grace to his movements now, only sheer determination to perform the task before him.
He stumbled forward, his hand brushing against the next blade and its gratefully cool response to him. Four more ... one more ... and Drift allowed himself to drop to his knees once more. His frame and spark were both in agony, though he was in no danger now. He only needed time to recover and for his spark to settle. Despite his own pain, he tried to reach out to Wing through their bond, well aware that the blocks had shattered.
The dark jet shuddered, reaching tentatively out to Drift, forcing his way through the pain. It was fading now, thankfully. Slowly, Wing uncurled, struggling to get back to his pedes while his thoughts reached out to twine with his mate's. He met calmness mingled with the last shudders of remembered pain and a gradually swelling joy at the freedom of being bound to a Great Sword that was a good match for him.
~Not planned, but good,~ Drift assured him.
They all watched as Drift remained still, his vents audibly wheezing as he struggled to recover fully from having the bond broken and immediately taken over.
A breem and the black and gray mech finally drew himself to his pedes and returned without hesitation to the Great Sword who had claimed him. The first touch was soothing, reinforcing the fledgling bond. The Great Sword's response could best be interpreted as a possessive "MINE!", wrapping itself around Drift's spark.
~I've never heard of anything like that happening before.~ Wing braced himself against the wall. He looked at the Great Sword that had claimed his mate, flaring his audial fins curiously. ~What is its name?~
~Stormsurge of War,~ Drift managed not to physically grin. ~We are much more suited to each other.~
"The Great Sword has chosen you," Axe stated, his tone formal.
Drift nodded, his frame, spark and processors exhausted by the ordeal. Drift had chosen his fate as much as this Great Sword had chosen him.
He steadied his hands and took his Great Sword from the bracket it rested on and brought it to the door. He would not wear the weapon until he was fully accepted as a Knight by the Circle of Shadows. Not until every living Knight had their say on his suitability.
Even now, bonded to a Great Sword, backed and trained by the leader of the order, bonded to a full Knight, he could still be rejected by the Circle.
Axe stepped aside, allowing Drift to leave the vault, and shut the door after them, turning to face the grounder and his creation as Wing once more latched onto Drift.
"Its designation?" Another ritual question.
"Stormsurge of War," Drift answered in the same ritual tone.
Axe nodded, then indicated another door across the hall, walking over to it. Wing tugged Drift over to the room, slipping inside with him. The dark jet stayed out of reach of Axe, reluctantly letting go of Drift. Dai Atlas remained outside, a glowering mass of blue metal slouched against the wall.
"This is where a Knight Initiate formally bonds with their Great Sword," Axe informed Drift, closing the door and taking up a position across the room, facing the grounder. Wing lurked nearby, one wing twitching. "To do so, you must bare your spark to the Great Sword."
A faint tremor passed Drift's frame at that. He hadn't quite grasped that Axe would be in the room with him. Still, this wasn't a complete surprise. He knew it was coming, it was just now that he fully grasped why his mate was so twitchy about it.
With a deep, calming intake of air, Drift nodded and knelt, allowing memories from Wing, Too Pure For This World and Stormsurge of War to guide him.
Level blue optics and wide golden optics watched the black and gray grounder, Axe folding his arms across his chest. "Expose your spark to the Great Sword's gem and allow the edge of your spark's corona to touch the jewel."
Drift trembled, not at the bonding, but at having a mech he didn't trust there for it. He turned his optics off and pulled his sensors and field in close, intentionally preventing himself from noticing the large mech unless Axe tried for his attention. He trusted his mate to protect him if need be.
With more effort that it took most, he ordered his chest plates to open, then his spark chamber to move forward and open as he brought Stormsurge of War's glowing purple-pink gem close to his deep red spark.
Wing might have been a statue but for the glow of his optics, the gleam of the red gem in the hilt of his Great Sword, and the slight flick of a slender wing. He watched in silence as Stormsurge of War's hilt gem lit up, shining like a small purple-pink star, the glow reaching out to caress its bearer's deep red spark.
Drift's spark reached out, wrapping the gem in a network of red tendrils. It created a rich, deep pink glow as the entire Great Sword began to glow, Drift's spark energy merging with the energy of the Great Sword, strengthening the fledgling bond there, but also making tiny changes as Drift's fundamental spark nature.
With a bright flare of spark-light, the two coronas separated and Drift closed his chest armor quickly, though otherwise he held still to recover.
"By the law of the Knights, you are now formally bound to your Great Sword. It is now yours in the optics of the Circle." Axe stirred from the shadow where he had been standing, clearly expecting both Drift and Wing to follow as he left the room. Dai Atlas fell into step beside his mate as they headed for the Circle's main meeting chamber.
Drift nodded, slow and careful. His senses weren't quite stable yet, but he understood what he was being told and accepted the support of his mate to follow as expected. Within a klik his optics cleared and focused, though he was showing how wearing this was even more.
Drift was drained; physically, emotionally, psychologically. All he wanted, desperately, was to press close to Wing and be held as he recharged for a few joors.
The low hum of voices could be heard well outside the great meeting hall of the Circle of Shadow as the gathered Knights conversed, awaiting the arrival of their leader and his mate. It was fairly common knowledge what was going on. This was far too big an event to be a surprise to anyone.
Wing began to fidget more and more as they neared the doors to the great hall. He knew of several Knight Initiates who had been rejected by the Circle at this last, crucial stage. He desperately hoped that his mate would not be one of them. It inevitably led to the deactivation of the Initiate, whether through suicide or murder.
Without a pause, Axe pushed open the doors, leading the group into the hall. Many of the seats were filled, the growl of biting remarks and dark looks being exchanged here and there. The chatter began to quiet as the assembled Knights realized who had entered, the hall falling into an uneasy silence.
Dai Atlas stormed up the steps to his place, glaring down at Drift. Very reluctantly, Wing let go of his mate, taking his own place. Axe remained on the floor, clamping one hand onto Drift's shoulder and pulling the smaller mech forward.
"Knights of the Circle of Shadow, before you stands one who wishes to join our ranks," Axe announced, pitching his voice formally. "He has trained under Dai Atlas and myself and survived, and he has bonded his Great Sword." Blue optics swept the listening Knights. "Shall the mech known as Drift join our ranks as a Knight of Shadow?"
The lack of tension, of fear of rejection, in Drift was not lost to Axe. What to think about it was another matter. This Initiate had been different in every way.
One by one, beginning with Wing and quickly Thorn, the gathering added their hum to a chorus. One tone for acceptance, a dissonant one for rejection, a third that harmonized for acceptance with reservations. Most hesitated, waiting for Dai Atlas to pass judgment. Insane as half of them were, they knew better than to cross their leader too much.
Dai Atlas glared at Drift for a long moment, optics flaring a fiery red. When he finally gave his judgment, after a good prod from Axe through their bond, it was acceptance with reservations, underscored with the Knight leader's ever-present growl.
At that most Knights accepted Drift, a mixture of outright acceptance and with reservations. The dissonant harmonics began to pick up, drawing first from Marwir and spreading through her closest allies.
Wing's wings rattled against his back armor, Challenger of Ways' hilt gem flashing once as a wing panel struck its blade. The dark jet's hum of acceptance never faltered, but he was fearing the worst.
Axe listened, narrowing his optics as he tallied up the dissonance with the harmonics. The only rejections were coming from Marwir and four other Knights. Not enough for Drift to be rejected.
The final Knight added his hum, a dissonance. Only this time Drift locked rich red optics on the offender and the sound faltered, then shifted to a harmonized acceptance with reservations. A flicker of pride reached Drift across his bond with Wing, and he sent a smirk of sorts back. This was a game he knew well from long before he became Deadlock, much less came to this city.
Axe turned to face the gray and black grounder, the meeting hall falling silent as he did so. Level blue optics met dark red as Axe began to recite the long form of the creed of the Knights of Shadow, to which Drift had to respond with "I do" or "I accept" at the appropriate places.
With every correct answer at the correct moment, Wing felt his pride and relief swell. This was the type of training that Drift did the most poorly with; knowledge without a practical, physical application. Wing had drilled him exhaustively in the proper order, several times making Drift go through the whole thing before letting his mate pin him to the berth. He knew exactly how hard Drift had worked to get this right, and that he hadn't learned for himself. Drift had learned this because he couldn't stand to let Wing down, even in the tiny way of making a mistaken word.
Axe finished the Creed, Drift's last response trailing into silence. Wing was almost vibrating where he sat, trying his hardest to keep his wings folded. Several mecha could hear the faint rattle of wing panels against Wing's back plating.
There was a moment of silence as Axe finished the Creed. He gazed at Drift measuringly for a long, tense moment, then nodded ever so slightly. "Welcome to the Circle of Shadow."
Wing just barely managed to refrain from slumping down onto the table from pure relief. Drift had made it. Despite all the challenges, Drift had become a full Knight of Shadow.
Drift inclined his helm silently in acceptance of the proclamation, but also a small show of submission to the ranking Knight. When the leader stepped back, Drift slid his Great Sword into the brackets on his back that had been empty since he had been accepted into training.
Wing was almost beside himself with happiness as Axe indicated Drift's place in the chamber, next to Wing's.
The dark jet was unable to refrain from leaning over and giving his mate a thorough kiss that was returned with even more heat as Drift's hands slid around him to stroke his wings and Great Sword. They both completely ignored the low growl from Dai Atlas. It wasn't until the Knight leader let out a sharp bark that Wing withdrew, glancing over at his glaring creator before settling back into his own seat. Axe rolled his optics at both of them.
It caused a wave of snickers to pass around the room, and didn't deter Drift from pressing close and twining his fingers with Wing's.
"Now, we may celebrate our newest member," Dai Atlas roared, earning rumbles, trills and even shouts of excitement.
Wing purred softly, so only his mate could hear, tugging Drift from his seat and after the others as they piled out of the room. Dai Atlas would maim anyone he caught drinking in the main meeting hall, and everyone knew it. Instead they used one of the other assembly rooms and the rec room for their drinking and rare parties.
For Drift, it was almost too easy to slide into the easy manner but careful defensiveness of what 'party' had meant for so much of his existence. His time as Deadlock was incredibly useful among these mecha, and gave him an edge. Crazy and violent as many of them were, they had nothing on the Decepticon high command.
Smoothly, Drift claimed two cubes, silently daring a couple of Knights to challenge him, before handing one to Wing.
Wing chuckled as the other Knights got out of the way, accepting a cube with a purr and taking a sip. Golden optics skimmed lightly over the crowd as the noise level began to slowly increase. He was aware of what would likely happen next. The hazing was pretty much inevitable.
~Love, we both know these mecha have no clue what overcharged hazing actually is,~ Drift snickered silently, though he very willingly snuggled close in a blatant statement of his place, and Wing's.
~Doesn't mean they aren't going to try,~ Wing replied, pressing himself against his mate and leaning in for a nuzzle. Other Knights eyed the two of them, but made no comment. Yet.
~Then let's prod them into action,~ Drift's thoughts were full of gleeful malice as he grabbed Wing's helm and pulled him into a kiss that could melt plating.
Wing's response was a cheerfully evil laugh as he returned the kiss, shamelessly rubbing his plating against his mate's. Other Knights watched with interest, someone letting out a catcall from the other side of the room. It did nothing but encourage the couple as the kiss heated up and Drift pushed Wing's back against a table, silently suggesting the jet hop up so he could be taken on full display.
Wing flowed onto the table like a dark liquid, not breaking the kiss. Dark arms wrapped around Drift's frame, fingertips sneaking into seams and trailing over the underlying circuitry. He wasn't at all bothered by their audience. They never had been before. They weren't about to be now.
The other Knights gathered into a ring around the pair, watching with interest, commenting to each other or just making catcalls and lewd remarks. Dai Atlas glowered from where he lurked by the far wall. Axe chuckled to himself from the shadow he'd chosen to lurk in.
"Mine," Drift growled as the kiss broke and his fingers slid between them to press against Wing's valve cover.
"And you are mine," Wing purred in response, his valve cover opening immediately. His fingers dipped into a seam of Drift's spaulder, kneading a particularly sensitive sensor node.
A low moan rumbled up from Drift's chest as his spike slid free and pressurized, rubbing against the pool of platelets around Wing's valve before he shifted to press the tip there and drive in with a smooth thrust.
Wing moaned, rolling his hips into the thrust, wrapping his legs around Drift's waist and hooking his ankles together. Dark wings spread out, fluttering and wiggling, begging to be petted.
The lewd comments and catcalls increased in volume, many of the watching mechs, more than a few already into the tipsy stage, offering tips and advice on other things Drift could do with Wing.
~They have good ideas overcharged,~ Drift grinned as he pounded into his black mate, their mouths locked and his hands on fluttering black wings. ~I wonder how long it'll take someone to challenge to me 'face the lot of them.~
Wing's response was part laugh and part moan. ~They'll have to be a little drunker for that.~ He writhed sensually against Drift, wings pressing into his hands, stretched out and forward to expose all the most sensitive surfaces and joints to Drift's hands. The dark jet mewed into Drift's mouth, one hand sneaking up to play with the grounder's audial spires. ~As for the suggestions, at least they remembered that you're a groundframe and aren't suggesting any of the ones that require being in the air.~
~We'll see how long that lasts,~ Drift moaned deeply, driving his hips against his mate as he struggled between drawing out the show and showing off or enjoying the pleasure and getting off.
~By the time they start with those suggestions, they're going to be so overcharged they won't be coherent anymore,~ Wing snickered. His fingers flirted along a transformation seam, hot air from his vents swirling over Drift's armor. The dark jet's lips moved to his mate's throat, nipping at the cables.
Whatever Drift was going to reply with was cut short by sharp claws sliding smoothly along his valve cover. Despite the shiver of pleasure it sent through his frame Drift turned his helm and snarled at a very tipsy Thorn.
Wing glared over Drift's shoulder, untangling one leg to deliver a solid if sloppy kick to Thorn's hip, hissing at the other black jet as Thorn stumbled back.
"Wha? You aren't using that part," Thorn's voice was decidedly slurred as he regained his balance. "You hardly ever do."
"Doesn't mean you can butt in," Wing hissed back, clinging possessively to Drift. Dark wings were quivering. "Mine."
~Can I deck him?~ Drift cooed across their bond. ~He's overcharged enough to go down fast.~
~Go right ahead,~ Wing crooned back. ~If he touches you again, I'll deck him.~ He loosened his grip to give Drift some room to move, watching with interest as Drift pulled out of him, twisted around and used all the momentum to connect his fist with Thorn's face.
The tall black jet staggered backwards before dropping to his aft. Red optics stared at Drift, not truly seeing as the dark mech pounced, knocking him flat and driving another punch squarely against the center of the silver faceplates.
Wing lounged on the table, legs parted and valve dripping lubricant, his golden optics on his mate and Thorn. Anyone who was close enough to hear the dark jet's throaty, pleased purr had absolutely no doubt that he was enjoying what he was watching. That pleasure flowed through their bond and egged Drift on until his target was a mess of leaking energon and cracked armor.
Only then did he growl in satisfaction and get to his pedes to turn on Wing, an utterly feral light in his deep red optics before he pounced and drove his still pressurized spike fully into the offered valve.
Wing welcomed Drift with half-lidded, sultry optics and invitation in every line of him. The dark jet moaned as he was fiercely taken, pressing himself against his mate, giving himself over to Drift.
Dai Atlas growled from where he watched, wings flaring and plating almost vibrating. Axe merely looked down at the mess that was Thorn, optics taking in the damage as Redline huffed and stalked towards his first patient and gathered the slender Knight to haul to medical bay.
With a roar Drift overloaded, filling his mate's valve with hot, viscous, heavily charged transfluid.
Wing's back arched, his chestplate scraping against Drift's as the dark jet all but shrieked out his own release. His valve clamped down on Drift's spike, milking out every last drop of fluid. Wing clung to Drift's frame, venting heavily, tucking his helm under his mate's chin as they recovered.
~Think we can escape yet?~ Drift nudged his mate across their bond.
The watching circle of Knights had not been immune to what they had witnessed and had more or less devolved into several isolated couples and one larger knot of limbs. Wing rolled his helm to one side, watching with amusement, cheekily grinning at the exasperated-furious glare he was getting from Dai Atlas' direction.
~I doubt anyone but my creators will notice if we leave now," the dark jet finally replied, unwinding himself from Drift's frame and shakily getting to his pedes. ~Quite the chain reaction we set off.~
Drift's replying grin was more smirk and his every line radiated sated, smug satisfaction as he steadied his black jet before tugging him towards the door. ~Dai Atlas really needs to get laid more often.~
Wing snickered, leaning on his mate for balance. ~I think most of the Circle would agree with you there.~