( closed ) i wear it like a message so i don't forget it

[rodders]

Who: Rodimus & Drift
Where: The building where they’re staying in the city. It's… somewhere.
When: After Drift is officially discharged from the clinic.
What: Rodimus tries to deal with symbolism, Drift is surprisingly touched.
Warnings: Gay. A whole lot of gay.

Somehow coming back to where they lived for a few days before things when completely and utterly wrong doesn’t feel as much like coming home as Rodimus thinks it should. Home is still the Lost Light, not this place he’s barely spent any time in. But they can’t stay in the clinic forever - Ratchet would toss them both out eventually - and it’s somewhere to stay that they can at least claim is their own.

It smells stale and vacant which, okay, Rodimus hasn't been in it since he left looking for Drift, but that’s something that’ll go away with time.

"I'm gonna stand by what I said when we first moved in - it needs a lot of paint," he says, turning around to look at the other bot who followed him in. "Er, and probably a window that shuts. Not that it rains here or anything."

Okay, it’s still not much. And their grand plan to make more than just 'livable' fell apart the moment Drift and Tarn first locked optics. But as he looks at Drift - standing in an abandoned room with the lines of the Decepticon symbol gleaming in the light - his spark sinks, the light in his eyes dimming, smile fading.

Not exactly how they left it.

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[rodders]

The light in his eyes dims briefly, his free hand coming up cup the side of Drift's helm briefly before it falls to his shoulder. Rodimus is almost struck dumb by the gratitude in Drift's face - he doesn't know how to deal with that, but feels a comfortable weight settle deep in his chest with the knowledge that this is the right thing to do. For Drift. His grip on Drift's hand tightens, smile widening as a warmth spreads out from their hands.

"I know you will." Drift doesn't have to promise him that, it's something Rodimus knows. "Do you want me to--" You know, help put it on. It won't be perfect - yet he doesn't think perfect is what they're going for here.

[auramatic]

For all his aggressive positivity and upbeat energy, Drift doesn't really smile all that often -- certainly not as often as Rodimus does, nor with as much confidence. But he smiles now, his spark made buoyant by Rodimus' unhesitating trust and the overwhelming warmth of the gesture. He doesn't think he's ever been as close to Rodimus as he is now.

"Oh -- yeah -- " Drift's optics flicker for a moment before they settle into a bright glow, and he presses the badge back into Rodimus' hand, squaring his shoulders. "Thank you."

[rodders]

Those are the things that come easy to him, always have and always will. He flashes another grin - bright and wide - at Drift before focusing his attention on his chest and the badge that's back in his hands. His grip on Drift's shoulder tightens as he brushes over the carved symbol with his knuckles - but then he pulls it back, pressing the badge in. It doesn't cover all of the brand - the more pointed bits of it sticking up around the edges.

But it's good, and Rodimus begins to weld the badge into place with his finger - a look of intense concentration on his face while he does so. And then, when it's done, he lets his hands fall away, finally looking back up at Drift.

"There," and while his expression remains serious, he can't keep it that way for long, a smile threatening to overtake him as soon as he makes eye contact.

[auramatic]

Drift feels overwhelmed with emotion -- gratitude, honor, relief, even a touch of pride, as unselfish as he can make it -- the faint sting of the welding is in the back of his mind, his optics fixed on Rodimus and the intent look on his face. The world seems to slow down for a few beautiful moments, and Drift takes the time to savor it, letting it sink into his spark. Rodimus is always the most radiant when he smiles, and Drift is sometimes almost envious of how easily it comes to him -- but mostly, he's just happy to bask in it. His smile widens, his optics lighting up with it. He touches the badge freshly welded to his chest, feeling it under his fingers, and then he brushes them over the space where it used to be, a slightly different shade than the paint around it.

Drift's fingers settle on Rodimus' chest for just a moment, and he feels his spark constrict in his chest as something tremendous wells up in it, faster than he can register it. His optics widen in a look of faint astonishment, looking over Rodimus' face as if he's just seeing it for the first time. There's a feeling in his stomach like the bottom's just dropped out of his tanks, a heavy feeling, and his optics glimmer, his voice quiet.

"I don't know how to tell you how much this means to me."

[rodders]

His spark hums louder at the feeling of Drift's fingers over the smooth metal where his badge used to be - at the look on Drift's face, the relief that swallows him whole at seeing the other smile. His hand comes up to curl around Drift's hand, far more gentle than even Rodimus is aware he's capable of, but he doesn't move Drift's hand away, just keeps it there against his chest as his optics brighten. He'll wear the blankness just as proudly as he would his badge, knowing that it's somewhere safe.

"You don't have to say anything," the sincerity in his voice is overpowering in that simple way Rodimus just has - casual but no less true for it.

He can't put a name to what he's feeling, the warmth spreading out from his spark to the tips of his fingers, but that's okay. Rodimus doesn't need to think about it at the moment, not when Drift is looking at him like that. He just needs this - the two of them. Losing Drift was bad enough, the thought of losing him again, the thought of Drift not being himself even if he's physically present - that eats at him more.

[auramatic]

"Rodimus," Drift says, his voice oddly tight -- but whatever it is he was going to say, he's not even sure. He just turns his hand to clasp around Rodimus', that soft smile staying on his face as he leans in a little. For a moment he just hovers there, basking in this rare, warm moment he's sharing with Rodimus. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you."

Lucky doesn't even begin to cover it, really, but Drift's just a shade too tired to wax poetic about it. He tugs away lightly from Rodimus, moving to sit on one of the chairs they'd scavenged at some point. "But I think I need to sit down. I'm a little shaky still."

[rodders]

"Yeah," he echoes, although far from being an affirmation of his greatness like it once might have been, it's his attempt to throw the sentiment back at Drift. Six months of life changing experiences can do that to a bot, what can he say? But his smile tugs at the side of his face as he lets Drift pull him along behind, although he does hover unnecessarily as Drift makes his way to the chair. What, he's being cautious. That's all.

"Ratchet will kill me if you come back to him hurt. Again." He can just imagine it, too, and that's a very unpleasant image to deal with - he doesn't deserve that fate! Well, mostly.

[auramatic]

Drift actually winces as he lowers himself into the chair -- more at the thought of Ratchet's inevitably scathing reaction than any pain, although his armor creaks audibly as he sits. He brushes his fingers over the freshly welded badge on his chest, cupping it absently.

"Don't worry. I'm not planning on it." Drift's optics glimmer with the light of a faint smile as he leans back against the chair, far more heavily than usual. There's a lightness to the way he always moves, an agility born out of restraint and self-discipline, but it's half worn away right now, too tired to hold himself up as much. He half reaches for Rodimus, gesturing for him to sit or come closer. "Besides, if he were here, he'd probably be yelling at me for still being upright at all."

[rodders]

He doesn't need any encouragement to sit himself on the arm of Drift's chair, one hand going to Drift's shoulder automatically, fingers curling into the plaiting as if he's reassuring himself that Drift is really there.

"How does he expect you to do anything at all?" Expecting Drift to lie down even after he's been discharged seems like a tall order. Rodimus knows he'd want to be doing everything and anything than doing what he'd been doing for ages, stuck in one position. His other hand curls around Drift's outstretched hand, fingers threading through his absentmindedly. "But if you need anything, Drift--"

Sure, his skill in taking care of other people is minimal at best, but he'll try for Drift's sake.

[auramatic]

"You're here."

Drift lets Rodimus thread their fingers together, tightening his grip on the other mech's hand, and the swell in his spark lances through him again suddenly, making his optics flicker and start. But he smiles after a moment anyway, just a tug at the corners of his mouth, his optics humming with light. The flare of his spark settles into a steady ebb and flow, still something that compels him to move to it like a buoy adrift, but he has an anchor. Rodimus' plating is warm against his, not just his hand but the badge on Drift's chest, too. Whatever energy of Rodimus' had come away with the badge, it's still there. Drift can feel it.

"I know."

[rodders]

"Yeah."

It's said on a particularly heavy exvent, but he can't help the smile that flashes over his face. This - Drift, here - is what he wants right now. Sure, there are a lot of other things, but Rodimus finds they don't seem so insurmountable. Getting home? Yeah, they'll do that. He's sure of it. For a fleeting moment he thinks he can see what Drift gets at with his whole spiritual thing - the way that Drift's hand feels in his and the comfortable weight of the air around them, of them.

"I'm here."

For once, for whatever else. He's not letting Drift go this time. Never again.