rodion | the battle of the feels

Perhaps it's easier than recreating a human.

[Then again, there were plenty of human constellations. And humans were a creative sort. His reason could still stand, though--if it weren't Shockwave he was talking to.

And in a way, if Shockwave did never let him live this down, Optimus would be alright with it. It meant that the senator would be around him, and after so many years of thinking he'd failed him...he'd done something right.

He'd saved him, and he wanted to keep it that way. A little teasing was welcomed, even if he didn't outright say it.]

If there's one thing I've known, it's that humans are not conventional thinkers a lot of the time. They will always surprise you.

[He doesn't say anything at first, just a gentle tilt of his head in appreciation as he continues to study his feet--his steps now getting slightly more consistent and accurate as he learns the pattern. He keeps his focus on that and Shockwave's eyes, more than anything glad to see that blue hue, just as they'd been four million years ago.

When Shockwave approached him after his actions in the Senate, seeing something in him that no one else did. It made the senator stand out to him...that not everyone in that building was of the same mold.

He'd lost that, in his foolishness. And here, it was given back to him. One saving grace out of the entire war that was granted to him. He'd almost lost the planet, he'd lost his people's trust, and he'd lost more friends than he could count. This?

This he'd saved. To say he wasn't happy about it would be a lie.]

I credit myself with a lot of things. A good dancer, I can't say that's one of them.

I'll settle for passable.

[He gives those hands a squeeze, affectionately. He was a worn down Autobot commander, been to hell and back, torn and broken. And here Shockwave was, as if he'd never changed. He knew deep down that wasn't the case, with what the other bot had to go through. But seeing him like this...for all Shockwave spoke about him being his 'brightest hope'...

Optimus felt the same about him.]

( He doesn't remember surprise in his interactions with them. Four million years and it's a gaping hole of emotionless images; the majority of his long life spent doing things for which he feels revulsion and regret. But he can feel them. And whatever emotions they invoke, it's proof that he is back to who he was, that the parts of him that were stripped away have resurfaced. )

They are certainly a creative species. ( He pauses, fingers settling to stroke Optimus' helm rather than the ear pieces. ) You admire them.

( A statement, rather than a question. Shockwave understands the Prime's reluctance to drag them all back to Earth in the first place - he cannot think of one good thing that happened, except the end of their war. They'd destroyed worlds - Shockwave had done his part in that - and yet this one still stood.

It survived, and it continues to defy them. )

I'll let you have this one, but only in dancing, Optimus.

( Every other facet of his personality is worth having some pride in, as far as Shockwave is concerned. The song changes on the radio to something slower and more intimate and Shockwave takes the chance to pull Optimus closer to him.

They can have this now. Time together. It wasn't a matter of feeling as if he'd been robbed of it - that would imply that he'd felt anything while walking away from an Orion who was begging him to remember who he was. Of feeling something like wanting and remorse for four million years whenever his thoughts strayed to the now-Prime.

Shockwave remembers saving him once - his survival had, at the time, been logical. But they'd been like strangers, they were strangers.

Not anymore. )

[Something Optimus is thankful for, to be honest. There was worry that he wouldn't get Shockwave back. That he couldn't overcome the Shadowplay. But he'd always underestimated the senator--he had strength, if not physically, mentally. Far more than he would admit to having sometimes. Something he'd always admired about him.]

I do. Despite their size, they are resilient, and even resourceful. They've evolved to adapt to their surrounding. Everything their planet--or anything extra-terrestrial that's thrown at them...

They rethink, and survive.

[It's why he didn't want to come back, true. He respected them too much as a species to bring them back into the war. They'd already suffered to much without a choice in the matter.

Another thing to stack upon that list of guilt.]

( There's a thoughtful noise at the back of Shockwave's throat when Optimus finishes. He's yet to see that first hand, but he doesn't doubt the truth of the statement. )

Unlike Cybertronians, hmm? ( Only a race incapable of change would drag out a civil war for four million years. Shockwave had such high hopes for their race - war be damned - and to find it fallen so short of what he wanted hurt once he was capable of realizing it. But he didn't hold it against Optimus, who did his best and led their kind out the other side. ) Perhaps we could learn from them, given enough time.

( His hands go back to running down Optimus' ear pieces, a soothing, gentle touch like he hasn't been capable of giving in millions of years. )

[Optimus notices the music change, although what he didn't account for was that this meant to change positions. The closer he was held, the warmer his spark seemed to feel. Maybe it was the other's, or just their close positioning. Either way, he wasn't minding it. And it shows in how his hands seem to search now, letting go of those hands to find a new home on the bot's waist.

He's playing this by ear, definitely.

But here, he could afford to. He could hold on, and the proverbial sand won't slip through his fingers. Something solid.

He can feel his head tilt, looking down at the senator as his body seems to finally react to the music, swaying slightly. He'll rely on the other for the footwork, but this...this he can do.]

Only in dancing. Nothing else?

Why should there be anything else? You excel in all the rest.

( Flattery? Absolutely. But Shockwave has gone so long without being able to do so that even if it seems excessive, it still feels right.

Humming slightly as Optimus' hands move, Shockwave repositions his own arms - wrapping them around Optimus' neck so that his fingers interlocked behind the other's helm. He can't help but smile at the signs that perhaps his Prime was easing into the idea of dancing - and perhaps it's a bit forward but when has Shockwave cared? There's a gentle pressure at the back of Optimus' head to encourage the other to dip his head more so that they can rest their forehelms together.

Shockwave is going to relish this closeness, the warmth spreading through him. All of it as proof he'd finally returned to being himself. )

[A small laugh escapes him. It wasn't often Optimus laughed, but this...that...was amusing. 'Unlike Cybertronians' seemed like such an understatement. They were on a completely different playing field in his eyes. Human wars? Lasted maybe ten years at the very most. Their war was almost 400,000 times that.

His head seems to nuzzle itself into Shockwave's lap, letting those fingers work their magic. It felt nice...to be doted on like this. And this was the only Cybertronian who could get away with it.]

Perhaps. Although, we didn't exactly leave on a positive note.

You're biased.

[He knew that Shockwave idolized him, and as much as he loved hearing it, he knew when the bot was using his personal experience to judge. There was a lot of things he felt guilty for. Things he couldn't save.

But he feels those hands brush against his neck, eyes widening slightly as he feels them rest there, interlacing fingers at the back. The blue seems to glow a bit more in them as he feels something in his spark jump--as if all his senses intensified.

Being so close to Shockwave...he really felt alive. His head dips down, to press against the other's helm as he wanted, the hum of his engine slightly kicking to life. Like a purring kitten.]

Absolutely biased.

[His voice is nothing but a whisper now, hands pulling that waist closer to his. Their feet were still moving, but Optimus had the confidence now to not need to look at his feet. His eyes were needed elsewhere.]

( Shockwave knows that guilt, carries his own with him - of all the things he did, the things he did for the betterment of Cybertron and though the cost was worth the end result. It pulls at him and tugs at the back of his mind; he can't change the past but he can pretend his own twisted works from occurring again. And he knows that Optimus has the right to be guilty of what the war has done; Shockwave can't image having lived through what he has and not. But he also thinks Optimus deserves more credit than he gives himself.

Not everyone survives. And not everyone survives with those morals that made Shockwave pick him in the first place. So instead he laughs softly, his own voice as quiet as Optimus' as he lets himself be pulled forward. )

Only a little.

( Quite a lot. Fingers trace the bottom of Optimus' helm as he unlocks his hands, left hand coming up to cup the side of Optimus' face - thumb tracing the line where his facemask meets the blue edge of the helm proper. His other hand stays where it is, rubbing circles into the smooth lines of his neck. )

Do try not to hold it against me, Optimus.

You didn't leave after the threat of Megatron had been eliminated. ( A statement, not a question. Shockwave hums, and the motions of his hands falter slightly. ) I thought the decision was illogical ( He frowns, as if the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. He doesn't deal with the memories. Or at least he doesn't try to - knowing that the echoing refrain of 'what have I done' will ring in his audials forever without thinking on his past actions for the last four million years. ) when I heard of it. The war was over - why would you stay on a planet that didn't want you?

( Declining to remark upon the wisdom of any of Optimus's choices, he continues. )

I failed to take into account that you would not simply stand by and watch others suffer because of you.

[Optimus had always been a leader, no matter what position he was in. From a cop to the leader of the Autobots, he'd been that Commander, no--that symbol of leadership. But here, it's amazing how he softens at that touch. It's harder to see with the facemask, but Optimus's eyes often showed enough to tell. His helm leans into that hand instinctively, all that stoicism melting out.

Because even leaders need someone to look to to draw their strength from.

A hand reaches up, though, to ghost over the other's, keeping it there as his eyes lock on to the ones opposite from him. As if mesmerized by the bot in front of him. As if just realizing now just what he'd gotten back.

His feet falter, becoming still.]

And if I did?

[The word stings him too, his spark cringing at it. He didn't want to think about it now, not while he's in the other's lap and looking at the stars. At the infinite amount of space that showed possibility, not logistics.

But those words make him look up into those eyes, instead of at the stars.]

I thought you would have known my stubbornness by then.

I never stand idly by.

( Pausing in the dance as well, Shockwave smiles at Optimus - bright and fond, even if his response is as soft as the rest of their conversation had become. )

Then I would aim to change your mind, of course.

( Smile turning sly, Shockwave tips Optimus' head down towards his slightly, enough so that he can kiss the faceplate tenderly. He doesn't let his lips linger long despite desperately wanting to - four million years was far too long already but he'd always been aware that his affections might not be fully welcomed. But here, Shockwave thinks, Optimus would feel no pressure to return them if he didn't want to, not if he took the initiative.

So he takes the risk, the given opportunity. )

I wouldn't want you to think any less of me.

My dear Optimus Prime ( And while he might have been cooly logical before, his tone is a rumble of fondness and good humor. Gone are the years where nothing causes him to feel - banished into the past. Shockwave is haunted by them, but they are not him anymore. ) knowing and understanding are two different things. I can know a great deal about you and yet fail to understand any of it, not even after four million years.

( Leaning forward, Shockwave once again resumes his tender touches of Optimus' helm - this time sliding from the antennae to the helm proper - tracing the lines with the same level of tenderness. )

All of the things I couldn't understand, they're all what made choosing you the wisest thing I've ever done.

( Everything had gone wrong in his plans, so quickly unmade by the choice to save a life. But the Matrix chamber within Optimus was the correct thing to have done, to fix him for. No one else could have done what he did, and Shockwave hates to think of a world where it was not Optimus who let the Autobots but someone else. Someone lesser. )

Edited 2014-08-21 16:23 (UTC)

[Optimus gives Shockwave full freedom in positioning him. He trusted the other bot that much. But this, this definitely comes as a surprise. Feeling his head brought down, those eyes widen in surprise when Shockwave presses his lips to that faceplate. A part of him feels he should retract it--remove it. That would have made it easier on the other, wouldn't it?

But the passion of the kiss is too much to break away from. His body leans in, engine purring contently as he feels those fingers brush along the sides of his face.

It's a swift kiss, though, and soon his glossy eyes snap back (although much softer now than before) to him. He doesn't hesitate with what he does next, though, placing those hands at Shockwave's waist a bit more firmly, gently lifting him up to sit on his one of his arms. Head resting on his chest.]

Nothing could ever make me do that. Not even a war.

[Those blue eyes glisten a bit, arching that head up slightly.]

You are my Shockwave, after all.

[The sheer emotion in his voice is enough to close his eyes, letting the tone sink in. He almost feels four million years younger, hearing it. That cheerful tone, how it rang whenever he did the most mundane of things.]

So you chose me because you couldn't understand me.

[He sounds amused by it, leaning into that touch willingly.]

I can't say it's the first time I've heard it.

[A hand reaches up, fingers gliding along Shockwave's cheek as he just studies it. It's the same as it'd been when he was a senator, full of life and emotion. Not battered down by years of war. Perhaps the shadowplay saved him from that, in some dark, twisted way of looking at it.]

Although it means much more here.

( The surprised, startled sound Shockwave makes at being hoisted into the air changes to one of amusement and happiness once Shockwave realizes what's going on. It's not a rejection at all - his spark swells, if not literally than surely metaphorically, sending tendrils of warmth through him. One hand grips Optimus' shoulder more tightly, not that he thought for a moment the other would drop him, but because it seems like the right thing to do in the moment. )

And you my Prime.

( Ducking down to press another, longer kiss against the faceplate is difficult, but one that Shockwave is determined to overcome. He hasn't gotten this far just to give up no, own optics softening as he looks down at Optimus.

No one would have ever accused Senator Shockwave of being capable of hiding his emotions; it holds true even now - the affection he holds for Optimus clear in every line on his face. )

[His eyes close again, momentarily, just hearing how that sounds. 'His Prime'. Optimus couldn't have picked those words any better himself. His spark had always belonged to Shockwave, whether he was aware of it or not. It felt right coming from him.

His head continues to be pressed to that chest, feeling Shockwave's spark gently hum underneath, craning his neck up to help the other kiss again, although it was heavily something one-sided. It's not like he has free hands to remove that faceplate, though.

The downside of having it--much of Optimus's face was hidden. But it's clear to see the affection in his eyes as he presses up, taking in all of this with, dare he say it...

Happiness. After years of loss and suffering, Optimus had finally felt happiness.]

Millions of years never changed that. I was always yours.

( Optimus might not have the hands free, but Shockwave does - and once he pulls away his hands are there on the edges of his faceplate, fingers sliding along the gaps to find the hidden clasps to remove it. It occurs to him that he's never seen Optimus without it after they'd repaired it on his orders so long ago; he almost feels as if he'd forgotten it in the four million years between then and now. )

Now who's the flatterer?

( But he can't say that it doesn't have any effect, truth or exaggeration. It makes the empty, hollow years seem less harsh - that there was someone who had cared for him even still. After everything. Shockwave's expression saddens at the thought, bright smile fading. )

How can you ever forgive me?

( Whispered, tone mournful. Shockwave isn't certain how he's managed to live with himself, knows that there really isn't another choice. But Optimus isn't him, Optimus doesn't have to live with the memories - he can wash his hands clean of this all, of him. )

[His helm doesn't move. If it were anyone else, he'd have pulled away. There was a reason he kept the facemask up, after all. The little 'improvement' as Wheeljack would have called it, was nothing more than a little hassle now. But here, he supposes, it served its purpose. When Shockwave removes the plating, his lips slowly curling into a smile.

Not much had changed since then, really. Weariness obviously was worn on his face. Wear and tear above, near the eyes, where the mouth was relatively untouched. There's a silent chuckle at the comment, eyes locked on Shockwave's, only daring to look away in order to press his lips into his hand.]

I have a feeling that is something you don't need to worry about.

[I already have.]

( Shockwave can feel the tension leaving his frame at the words - and maybe he does not deserve such quick forgiveness with the weight of his sins pressing down on him, but this time he won't argue. Instead he focuses on the feeling of Optimus' lips on his hand, the press of the other against him, the fact that this is something real. Real and full of emotions that he'd never wanted to experience again when he couldn't. )

Thank you, Optimus.

( What else can he say? His fingers trace the lines of his now-exposed face, smoothing over the traces of age he can find with great care. But the corner of his mouth flicks up fondly, sadness bleeding from his expressions for the moment. Right now there's just this. )

It has long been my opinion that you have much too handsome a face to keep it covered all the time.

( It has long been Shockwave's opinion that Optimus himself never knew the pull he had - even now with the title of Prime, he wonders if he understands it. There's a certain sort of mech that inspires devotion beyond one's ability to bond with the Matrix or not; he'd considered Optimus one from the moment he burst into the Senate. )

[Optimus has always been a believer of second chances. He's been put to that test more times than he could ever say. Shockwave had always been someone special to him. The chance at redemption was a cautious one from many, but deep down...Optimus knew.

He knew that spark. And he knew that Shockwave could fight the shadowplay and become the Senator he fell in love with.

His eyes dim as a thumb brushes across his cheek, soaking it in.]

You know my opinion of faceplates. And what happened the last time I didn't have one.

[Funny, how easy it was to talk so casually like this.]

I save it for important occasions.

( His engine kicks up in a contented, rumbling hum. This he could get used to, this closeness and affection and love. It helps him banish the darkness to the corners of his mind where he won't dwell on it, won't think about anything except for the fact he's in the arms of his Prime. )

Is that what this is? ( Teasing, of course. But he takes advantage of their position and the fact that Optimus' head is tilted back to bring his own head down again - lips just barely brushing the other's when he speaks again. ) I'm honored.

( And then he kisses him properly, this time noticeably less sweet and chaste as the last two. He's not going to waste a second now that they have the chance - one hand come to cup the side of Optimus' helm while the other curves into his shoulder plating. )

the battle of the feels

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