#spinkrok

Happy valentine's day!💘

Spinkrokcrum, Fulcrum centric, Fluff, 800 words, flashfic 3 hours summary: they roast marshmallows!!!!!!!!

“Think I’m gonna start the fire now.” Spinster announces as he takes aim at the scavenged, oil drenched, carcass in front of them. 

“Okay just—try not to let it ricochet into us this time?” Fulcrum groans, shielding himself behind Spinister. Once upon a time, the fire of Spinister’s barrel might’ve given him a jump or a flinch—by now he’s pretty immune. 

Sitting back down by the absurdly green ‘fire’, he lets Spinister take the space beside him…the side that may or may not have a face plate melting as fuel. Misfire and Grimlock are still off scavenging while Crankcase continues working on some engine repairs, leaving Fulcrum Spinister and Krok to set up camp—how ironic. For the past few deca-cycles Fulcrum’s spark has been harboring an annoying yammer about the medic and tactician—it’s become increasingly more difficult to ignore as he’s frequently being put into situations…Situations, often ending up with the three of them——alone. He finds himself in this predicament once again as Krok re-appears from the entrance of the W.A.P, briskly walking up to the pair and seating himself on the other side of Fulcrum. It’s a suspicious choice as there is plenty of space on other junk heaps to sit around the--now--slightly rancid smelling fire…there’s the other side of Spinister! But he chooses to sit—cramped—on the same junk pile. Fulcrum could try to believe it’s cozy, but his overactive spark is making it a mental struggle. 

“How was setting up?” Krok asks as he pulls out a container of…something soft? 

“Spin found an autobot graveyard of some sort so we kind of just…used that as fuel for the fire. Most of the corpses were dried out, but we…” Fulcrum trails off as he can feel the pair's optics trained on him; he clears his vocalizer, but is interrupted by the copter.

“Picked em’ clean, nothing too useful—just some blaster charges and trinkets. Made a good fire though.” 

Fulcrum snorts in response, nodding, “Clearly.”

Krok shifts, knee plating bumping into Fulcrum’s, the technician’s plating chaffing Spinister’s like an ill fated domino effect. Fulcrum curls into himself before warbling out “What…were you up to today?” 

“Yeah—and what’s that?” Spinister adds, pointing across Fulcrum, oblivious to the crushing proximity he’s cursing the triad to.

Krok chuckles affectionately before passing the container to Fulcrum, Spinister looming over him to get a look. It looks soft, squishy, smells creamy, and is sliced into twelve squares; Fulcrum had never seen it before, but a dawn of realization seems to hit his medical companion. 

“Woahhh!!! Energon flumps….How’d you find this, Krok?” Spinster hums, picking one up to observe. Krok shifts to lean in more; Fulcrum does his best to try and inconspicuously expel the steam trapped in his frame.

“They had althar minerals at the last trade post so I melted them down—I thought we could all enjoy a rare treat.” 

The idea of Krok baking (if you could call it that) is an odd one, but the mirth in his optics is spark striking and maybe Fulcrum does feel a little bit cozy. Between Krok’s pleasantly affectionate mood and Spinister’s excited shuffling he can’t be upset, and he’s maaaaybe reminded of how he ended up liking them in the first place; he smiles warmly, staring down at the confections. 

“You know, I’ve never had one of these or…even seen one really. Thanks Krok, this is…nice.” 

There’s a second of quiet staring, only the crackle of the fire audible before it’s broken by a wide opticed Spinister.

“Really? Never?” 

“I was forged during the war so…I never really got the opportunity to try confections—unless I made them myself.” 

“I figured so,” Krok vented, “But now you can. We can roast these flumps together.” 

“Wait, you ROAST them??? Didn’t you say you melted them down? How does that work?!” 

Fulcrum is interrupted by a wet stabbing noise. He turns, exasperated by Spinister stabbing the flump with his rotor blade…and kind of disgusted? Before being handed the blade, Spinster holding the back of his servo as if to guide him in the most embarrassingly personal way possible. 

“Like this.” the copter answers, guiding the flump to hover above the fire. Fulcrum watches, the copter helping him roast it as it starts turning golden in color and he feels…happy. He likes this he realizes, he like this close, intimate, enviornment—he likes spending time like this with Krok and Spinister. His optics flit over to Krok, whose gaze holds a rare tenderness reserved for moments like these…a fragility almost. And he feels settled in Spinister’s guiding hand…he wants to be here, he decides, relaxing.

Rating: T Pairing: Krok/Spinister Characters: Krok, Spinister Continuity: IDW

“Hey.”

The Monoformer’s optics flittered open, first looking down at his legs. The lower halves had been ripped off, draining quickly of energon, as was his left arm. It was only when he felt a hand attempt to lift his head up that he did so. A rather large helicopter for what was seemingly a low ranking con met his gaze, tilting his head. “Are you okay?”

fulcrum/misfire: ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

nonono is a little harsh but it’s my closest option here. part of it is that i don’t tend to multi-ship, and i’m already busy shipping fulcrum/krok

spinister/krok: ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

same deal as fulcrum/misfire

metalhawk/bumblebee: ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART

man i hadn’t thought about it and it’s been a really long time since i’ve read exRID?? so idk

brainstorm/happiness: ew / nonono / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / MY HEART