#sg!dirge

A walk it would be then, Dirge decided, a literal spring in his step as he started trotting back towards the crew quarters. Hook had been in a bit of a funk recently and even if he had to drag him kicking and screaming outside, the outdoors would do the medic some good. Then the medic would return to his fluffy, grumpy self and everything would be alright. The smile ever-present on his faceplates, Dirge tapped out his entry code, exceedingly long and nearly musical.

“Hook, Ducky!” he announced, striding into the living space with a curious optic. Hook hadn’t left the berthroom, it seemed. Poking his sunny helm into the next room, his grin spread a little wider. Hook was right where he had left him this morning, the lazy thing: arms hoisted above his helm, pinned to the wall by brightly-painted chains, ankles bound together, frame scraped and dented, and vents wheezing every so often.

Dirge allowed himself a tiny, overdramatic pout before his smile returned, flittering forward to crouch in front of his medic. He reached out and patted at the medic’s cheek lightly, smile nearly shining when the older mech flinched away.

“Ah, still online! Good show!” he chirped, nuzzling at the darker helm excitedly. “I think we should take a walk today, what do you think?”

“Dirge…let me go,” Hook grumbled, his entire frame shuddering at the affection being handed to him freely. The jet shook his helm slightly, settling his frame into the space between the coil of the medic’s legs.

“I can’t do that, Hook,” he explained, patiently explaining like he had every other day. He didn’t mind; the medic was a very smart mech, but he could be incredibly dense when he put his processor to it. Besides, the recurring lecture always gave them some extra time to cuddle, always a positive side to the somewhat-tedious-but-still-positive parts of their relationship. “This is for your own good…we can be so happy! You’ll see!”

“I’ve got to get back to base,” Hook insisted, fingers flexing under their constraints. “You too! They must be going mad trying to find us…”

“I do so wish I could’ve brought everyone,” Dirge admitted, curling against Hook’s chest with a sigh, “but I could only bring one in the end. Alpha Trion was quite generous in letting me bring you along.” He paused, recalling the moment with a twinge of nostalgic fondness.

“Why me…”

“Because!” He tilted his helm back, kissing Hook’s chin with a small purr; the medic shivered and recoiled. “I would’ve missed you far too much, my dear. But don’t worry! Everyone else will be just as happy as we are soon. You’ll see…just wait!”

“Dirge, please,” Hook growled, tugging at his chains again. The jet sighed, his smile dimming by a fraction, if only out of exasperated fondness. “We have to get back. We have to—!”

“Ducky, do hush,” he said, twisting around in his seat to face the medic. He had been down this same route merely twice before. He now knew how to keep the same incidents, both ending with Hook in the medbay for days, from repeating themselves. “Everything’s going to be alright. You’ll see!”

He felt out carefully, the tendrils of his power seeking out Hook’s emotional core like an old friend, just as his fingers had once found the cranky medic’s neck cables to ease away the strain of his work. They coiled around the roiling object, seeping inside and infecting the chaos with sunshine and golden light. The medic groaned and his helm lolled back, cloudy expression cracked into a grin and it was so close, so close to that one day in the medbay when Dirge had reached out.

“Dirge…just kill me if you’re not going to set me free.”

Yet so different, so terrifyingly different. Hook was smiling like he had just delivered the first post-war emberling, but his visor was dim and his optics behind the glass were quietly screaming. Dirge grinned, shuffling onto his knees to give the medic a proper kiss. His mood had taken a turn for the better, even without the walk. So everything was going to be alright.