aggressive calm.

★ where it all began...

✖ || He looks up at the knock, not knowing what he expected. Who would even knock? It was a shared space.        Then he processes just who is knocking, and he understands. He watches as Drift approaches, and smiles inwardly at the gentle, if not awkward manner of the mech. When he sits beside him, Hound barely manages to stop his engine from revving ever so slightly at the touch - though his EM field betrays just how pleased he is by this. “Just thinkin’,” he hums, the cygar held familiarly between his digits on his right servo. “’M thinkin’ I kinda understand why mediation is so important ta ya. Normally I hate bein’ alone with my thoughts but sometimes…it’s kinda peaceful.”          He shrugs, and turns to look at Drift, meeting his gaze full on. He can sense the shyness of the other mech, and they’re close enough to kiss, but he’s not so sure he wants to. What if Drift wasn’t in need of that now? What if before was just a spur of the moment thing?          Whatever kind of cease fire they had now, between them two, had begun in that night in the canyon. Facing near certain death, loitering so close to their enemies and the battle that would inevitably ensue, would it be worth it to undo all of that for a kiss?

★ where it all began...

★ where it all began...

✖ || The feeling of digits in his beard draws a hushed groan of pleasure from the commando, and he makes sure to keep Drift fully against him. Having another frame this close to him in a peaceful context was strange for Hound - it hadn’t happened in quite some time. Part of him wishes that he could trust Drift enough to take off the front pack, so he could feel more of his servos on him, but that part was quickly squished.      This was a one time thing, simple. Nothing worth revealing anything for.      Hound runs his digits along the small of Drift’s back, tracing his way up higher to his rotary blades. He doesn’t touch them, only teases at the mount on Drift’s back, his glossa intermingling with Drift’s as they kissed. To go any further, he wasn’t sure about. But this, as it was? He didn’t mind.

★ where it all began...

✖ || The commando did not expect this sudden change in Drift’s demeanor. Despite the hot and cold temperament of the mech in their short conversation here, he didn’t think it would ever swing in this direction. Looking at the seated mech, much closer than he’d been before - save when attempting to attack, that is - Hound finds a small part of himself completely sidetracked by Drift’s multihued optics.        To put the tension behind them? He’d really like that. It’s tiring being so angry all the time, a fact which he rarely admitted to himself, much less anyone else. But what exactly was Drift looking for? A quick frag? Here, exposed under so much - and with humans and the rest of their team literally right behind them?         Hound looks over his shoulder briefly, and upon seeing no one really paying attention - it seemed that Bumblebee and the humans had gone into recharge, but he wasn’t sure about Crosshairs and Optimus - he faces Drift once again. The emotions bared on the triple changer’s face were unexpected, but very much welcomed, and he paused in his reply.        Kiss him.        The little voice within his helm urged him towards a path of action he didn’t know if he wanted to take, but his natural impulsivity wore out - he leaned down and kissed him, his servo grabbing onto Drift’s hips. He just prays this doesn’t backfire. 

★ where it all began...

✖ || Hound doesn’t know what to do with this recent change of events. Does he encourage this? Not encourage it? It’s not exactly like he’s making Drift do it, and age old rules about consent and power dynamics ended when Cybertron became more of a dream than a memory, but he still feels….off about this whole thing. Drift is a teammate, and one he has a rocky foundation with, at best. Could he even complicate the dynamic like this? And why was he even entertaining the idea?        “No, no, you do yer thin’. Everyone’s got something.” Which is true, but few involved bending over in front of him that made desires he thought he had long outgrown come surging back to the surface. He didn’t know how much longer he’d continue this, but as he sized Drift up, he finds the smirk staying.         “As fer yer design, that’s somethin’ ya can’t control, but it still makes fer a mighty nice show. Yer hot when yer fightin’.” Whoops.

★ where it all began...

✖ || “It’s not my fault I like getting up close and personal,” he quips back, side-eyeing Drift. “And perhaps I “slowed down” because my top speed is only 95 mph, or because I didn’t want to run you over? Believe me, I got all the eyeful I needed when ya went after Bee. Ya do know ya bend over a lot when ya fight, right?” But there’s a flirty smirk there too.

★ where it all began...

✖ || “Not this stuff, no. I’ve already tossed the heavier stuff off back there,” he replies, nodding back towards the fire. At Drift’s comment, he just smirks an shrugs a little bit, before putting his cygar back in his mouth. “And if that were true? What would that change, hmm?”         He knows what Drift’s game is, and he’s willing to play along. Besides…what could this possibly change? It had been a while since he’d had someone to speak with in this way anyway.         Primus he hoped he wasn’t out of practice.

       “Ah, well, at least you’re more comfortable.” Drift responds before giving Hound a raised optical ridge. He then changes his posture, his legs loose on the ground, and his frame facing to the commando’s direction. “That would explain some things, especially your little touching problem.” He comments about what happened in their little tiff, and to be honest, Drift hadn’t liked it at first... but...        “And you did slow down behind me. Were you enjoy the view? My aft can be a little distracting.”

★ where it all began...

✖ || “See my point in sitting?” he asks, looking over at the swordsmech. “I’m carryin’ a lotta stuff. Plus I don’t mind dirt, I picked this alt mode fer off roadin’ purposes. At the cost of speed though, which I don’t see ya givin’ up any time soon, even if yer a triple changer,” he lightly teases back. There’s a smile playing at his mouth, and he decides to let it show. He takes Drift’s corrections in stride, not hesitating over them. He always messed up humans, who put so much energy into gender vs. sex. Finding that out via the internet had been a confusing rollercoaster in itself.

        “You could just...let go of the weight? You always throw it off anyway.” Though, that was just a suggestion, one upon a time Drift used to wear more armor than this, but that was before Earth and getting accustomed to it. Hound’s comment also makes him snort in amusement. “I like being fast, especially if I’m one of the most expensive cars in this planet. And since you’ve noticed, I see you agree with my appearance.” Oops, that was a flirt.

★ where it all began...

✖ || “The femme is whiny, ‘nd the sire is panicky. But I understand the panic, bein’ thrown into somethin’ yer not prepared for. Even if his kind brought it on themselves,” Hound murmurs. He sits with his legs stretched out before him, leaning back on one servo, the other taking the cygar from his mouth so he could exhale the sweet smoke.       “What about you, what do ya think of ‘em?” he asks, looking over at Drift with both optic ridges raised. “Aside from the coward, that is.”