( 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.

Comments

[auramatic]

Drift's been considerably less morose since he first woke up after his fight with Tarn -- and he has Rodimus to thank for a lot of it. Tactless and impulsive as he might have a tendency to be, his sincerity always manages to shine right through, and it touched Drift, not for the first time, but never so personally, either. But what happened to him isn't the sort of thing you recover from all at once, and Drift is still keenly aware of the fresh brand on his chest, a constant reminder of what he's tried to leave behind, and what Tarn did to him. He presses a hand to his chest absently as he glances around, taking in the semi-familiar details. He hasn't really had as much time to settle in as Rodimus has, seeing as he got his dumb ass put into a coma like three days after they moved in, but even so it's nice to have something you can even sort of call home. Drift misses that.

"That we know of," Drift points out mildly, but his optics are still brighter than they have been in days as they settle on each corner of the room in turn. "A fresh coat of paint would do it good. We could do something about the energy flow in this place, too -- do you think we could dig up any furniture or anything? You'd be amazed at what a good energy cleanse can do for a space."

He's really trying to get back to his old -- well, new-old-and-also-kind-of-fake -- self, okay.