open post

[infailtration]

[ aus & psls ]

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet huffs a soft laugh, looking right back at him.

"Everyone else, I guess. It's--" He almost moves to touch one the scars but checks himself, settling back. "I don't know. It's necessary, what I do. It's grounding, to have something like that. A... function, I guess." He pulls a slight face, then sighs. "Keeping everyone else sane is what keeps me sane, most days." Ratchet grins, his eyes lighting a little. "Barring that I'll go and get drunk, but I usually have way too much to do for that sort of nonsense."

[infailtration]

York catches that, and again he wants to ask, but doesn't. Eventually, Ratchet will tell him. Maybe. He just listens, for now, his mouth curling up into a matching grin at the mention of getting drunk to cope. He's been there too. Some of the best bonding times he ever had with the other Freelancers were shore leave, actually.

But here... "I guess it's kind of... not having a purpose here makes everything harder to deal with. I've definitely got too much time on my hands."

[asafepairofhands]

"It's excruciating," Ratchet agrees, easing back against the sofa. "I'm used to being buried up to my eyes in stupidity-inflicted injuries and paperwork just on a regular day, let alone if there's a fight or something else catastrophic happens. Having nothing to do is just disorienting. Sometimes I thought it might be nice to have a break, but I've changed my mind, I hate it." He's laughing, but there's an underlying frustration there, simmering under the surface.

"Honestly, I think, mmm. I think that might be why I haven't been sleeping as well as I should." He hates admitting it, but he knows York knows--he could hardly miss it when he shares Ratchet's bed half the time. "I'm used to working either until there's no more work, which is never, or I'm exhausted, and then I rest and get back up and do it again. All this... nothing is just messing with me."

[infailtration]

York nods -- he feels the same way, so used to being run ragged that all this free time and rest is having the opposite effect he'd thought it would.

"It's not like I want them to force us to join the war, but at this point... having it loom over us while we do nothing is definitely worse. Even working in the labs, doing patrols for them, it's too much nothing. I sleep better the days I train to exhaustion but that takes forever and it's boring as hell." He huffs, but there's no amusement in the sound. "And it's not like we've got many other options."

[asafepairofhands]

"Yeah. I wouldn't even mind working in medical too much, but they're cagey as all hell about their equipment and they seem to go out of their way to make sure to let me know I'm underfoot." Ratchet huffs a little, wriggling in agitation before he settles. "I'm used to running my own damn medibay, not mopping somebody else's. Not that I don't do mopping back at home, but at least that's not all I do, dammit."

[infailtration]

"That's all they'd let you do," York agrees, speaking from experience now. "They've just got me doing math and equipment maintenance in the labs. Nothing engaging. I'm hoping if I keep my head down and play the good little worker they'll let me in on what's happening in R&D, but..." It's unlikely and everybody knows it.

[asafepairofhands]

"I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't understand--I wouldn't want some random tool I picked up in a blizzard mucking around with my delicate medical instruments either." Ratchet drops his chin to York's shoulder, some of the fight draining out of him to leave him deflated. "That doesn't keep it from driving me up a wall, though."

[infailtration]

"They could at least teach us, so we could be useful somehow. I wouldn't want a bunch of freeloaders, either. Which means they're going to make us fight for them sooner or later." And by his tone, he's not okay with that -- but that's no surprise. He's already expressed his issues with the colonization, and how much propaganda the Cetagandans are spouting to support it. There's just nothing he can do, not yet.

Ratchet's chin dropping to his shoulder brings them even closer together than usual, and he can feel the other man's breath on his neck. The little shudder at that is involuntary but hopefully Ratchet will just think it's the nerve damage.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet feels that shiver when he leans in close, hesitates, then draws back again to ease himself against the arm of the couch. He's still not altogether convinced he has this cuddling thing down yet, so he's still taking is cues from York.

"Yeah. I don't really love either option, but those seem like what we've got just now."

[infailtration]

That was an accidental cue. York goes still, considering if he should say anything. Then, softly, "You didn't have to move."

[asafepairofhands]

"Oh," Ratchet says, his own voice low as he just feels York's heart beat against his palm for a moment, the slow, steady rise and fall of his lungs under his ribcage. Then he leans forward again, settling back in, his own heartbeat pressed to the side of York's spine. It's not quite the same as lying next to another Cybertronian, listening to the slow tick of cooling metal and the hum of autonomic systems, but it's close enough. And York is warm. "All right," he says, getting comfortable again and letting some of the tension drain out of him, easing the normally taut set of his shoulders.

[infailtration]

"I'm not--" He breathes out as Ratchet settles back against him, not sure if he's relieved or just more awkward. "I don't want this to get weird," he admits, gripping Ratchet's arm again. He needs it too much right now to freak the other man out.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet doesn't know exactly what York means by 'weird', but he feels that hitch in York's voice, the harder grip on his arm, and decides it honestly doesn't really matter.

"I'm not going anywhere, York," he says quietly, then huffs a soft laugh. "I'm too stubborn for you to scare off. Relax."

[infailtration]

Some of the nervous tension in York's shoulders eases again, and there's relief in his voice when he answers. "Too stubborn, huh? Here I thought you were just really secure."

[asafepairofhands]

"Mostly just stubborn," Ratchet says agreeably. "I'm aware that there isn't anyone around that I know to corroborate properly, but trust me, they would if they could."

He relaxes a little as York does, though the relief he can hear in York's voice pains him. "What about this exactly did you think is going to send me haring off?"

[infailtration]

York raises an eyebrow, not that Ratchet can see him so do. Is he serious? Apparently. Maybe his culture is just different enough from York's that this kind of thing would be considered normal.

"Well you know. Most guys wouldn't be cool with this much contact."

[asafepairofhands]

"Oh," Ratchet says, considering briefly to avoid a misstep before he just shrugs.

"Well, if it bothered me, you'd know it. But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. All right?"

[infailtration]

"All right," he agrees, feeling Ratchet shrug against his back. "Not that I'd mind, it just. I've only got so much control."

[asafepairofhands]

"No, I know," Ratchet says, but he tightens his grip on York just a little, a brief, reassuring squeeze. "But it's all right."

[infailtration]

"...which part of that did you know?" York laughs softly, loosening his hold on Ratchet as he relaxes further. Seems like he has nothing to worry about.

[asafepairofhands]

"That you only have so much control," Ratchet says frankly, though his voice is warm. "Just like anybody would in your position. And that you wouldn't argue with me if I told you I couldn't do this anymore for whatever reason."

[infailtration]

"No, I wouldn't argue. It'd be rough, though." He's come to rely on Ratchet's presence, more than he wants to admit to himself. "I'd still want you to tell me if something changed."

[asafepairofhands]

"I would," Ratchet says, turning over his next words in his head, trying to work out the best way to say them.

"That means something to me. That you'd want that. Not that I think you wouldn't care, but... I know it's hard to consider that kind of thing when you're injured or frightened or in pain. The fact that you do means something."

[infailtration]

"Of course I'd consider it -- I'm already asking a lot." Technically Ratchet's offering, and he's the one who established the initial level of contact, but. York's the one who needs it to continue. He turns his head, then, sighing against Ratchet's neck. "It's winding down."

[asafepairofhands]

"You say that, but not everyone does, or can, and I wouldn't begrudge you either way." The heat of York's breath on his neck pulls an odd prickling feeling down his spine that he realizes is a shiver but he doesn't react otherwise, just settling a brief hand at York's nape.

"Good," he says, and he sounds like he means it. "We don't have to head back right away, though. Up to you, but I'm not in a rush."