Literally anything with riptide, man- love me my ocean man
//. Cybertronian Ex-Autobot neutral reader. Hope this is something.//
“I haven’t been held hostage in a while,” Riptide sounds almost impressed, “I didn’t think you would really go through with it.”
“I guess that explains why you practically volunteered,” you mutter.
It was work to move forward keeping Riptide’s gun pressed firmly against the spot marksmecha like yourself referred to as the “point of no return.” There were cranial injuries, even near complete destructions, that the right mechanic could bring a bugger back from, but you had a long, solid habit of never inflicting them. One shot: one less Decepticon. That had been your modus operandi from the moment you’d been forged up until your—
“The deserter!” Some bot or another yelps on finally spotting the two of you enter the ship’s main corridor.
“Your ship’s security is awful,” you grumbled to Riptide, “I assumed the alarm had been sounded back in the brig.”
“Red Alert was re-stationed a while ago, that’s probably why.”
“No idea who that is, but at least the name’s unsubtle enough to guess,” you raise your voice, “yeah it’s the deserter. The assassin. Tell Ultra Magnus to get a pod ready for the nearest waystation or you’re volunteering for next example.”
You jab the gun a little harder against Riptide and he winces, making you wince. You want to apologize, but the ruse is too important. Too much on the line. The bot rushes off to sound the alarm. You stick to the wall.
“I think they would let you go, if you just explained the situation. The war is over. And Ultra Magnus is-“
“Still running the place on military rank and code. Everybody’s still got their badges,” you mutter, “and it’s not like I haven’t racked up a body count on both sides. If you were serious about helping, just. Keep quiet.”
Riptide looks at you, concern in his faceplate, and you look away with a cough.
Very quietly you add, “please?”
---
You spend the flight to the waystation pacing while Riptide sits and watches you.
"What are you worried about?"
"Who says I'm worried?"
"You're biting the paint from your hand?"
You exvent and face Riptide.
"It's not easy to relax with," you gesture to the Lost Light, which lazily follows your small craft.
"You really think they would have shot you down without me?"
"I don't know what to think."
You check on autopilot again. Check your weapons. Check your comms. You're so busy checking things that your don't notice Riptide until his arms are around you. His chin rests on your shoulder.
"I'm glad I got to see you again, if that helps."
What it does is bluescreen your processor.
"Riptide. I'm not. It's not good that we... reunited."
"Huh."
"Huh?"
"Just huh."
Slowly, you set your gear down and, cautiously, hug him back.
"I didn't think you would really go through with the hostaging," Riptide finally says, "because we both know you can't lie for scrap."
"...Well. Good thing we were the only ones who did."
"Hah, yeah."
You don't mean to kiss him. You really don't, but another thing you can't do for scrap is resist your feelings for Riptide. You've never been able to. You didn't mean to find yourself under him for the brief time you were stationed together, and you don't mean to now.
And just like then, he knows this somehow. Riptide doesn't escalate, he lets the two of you slide to the floor and just holds you- careful to avoid your scratched out insignia.
"You want to focus on finding your brother," he says half to you, half to himself, and ten percent to no-one.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"It's not. I owe you so much, Riptide."
"Okay, then just try to stay alive so you can pay me back. Hey, maybe if you find him we can capture both of you! Then you won't have to hostage anyone."
"...That's...that's an idea. That exists. Thanks Riptide."
"You can kiss me again if you want."
---
You bolt the instant the pod touches down, transforming for maximum speed. Riptide watches you go ant touches his faceplate. At least you got to say goodbye this time. He wonders if you'll forget him. Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's best to try and forget too... not that he was able to before.
He smiles. Nah. He has to remember you. Otherwise, how would he explain all the new paint transfers to Ratchet?
