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Perceptor made a grave error attending the ‘festivus’ party as mandated. It was some organic world tradition based on the movement of their planet’s axis and the distance from their star. But as soon as Rodimus heard about it, he wanted to celebrate. He decked the halls with an assortment of lights and demanded the ship get “into the holiday spirit”.
He was the first to arrive, prompt and on time to Swerve’s bar. This, of course, meant that nothing was set up yet or ready so he was given a glass of engex and permitted a quiet corner of the bar.
It was not quiet for very long as one by one different crew members entered the fray in what Perceptor could only assume was an assortment of junk made to look festive. He was offered another engex and for once, took the second drink. He’d pay for it being so close to the other by being slightly intoxicated.
Everyone gave him his space, which he couldn’t really figure if it irritated him or relieved him. It meant no strained talk but it made him feel alone in a crowd of strangers. Normally Brainstorm would be harassing him but he must have forgone the party, something Perceptor was wishing he’d done.
The final piece of decoration to affix to the doorframe of the exit was an expired missile casing adorned with foliage of some sort and rather poisonous looking bulbous fruit. This festive ornament had a set of rules associated with it. He couldn’t help but pay attention, as it managed to make the now rowdy crowd even rowdier. The passage below the kiss missile, or “missile toe” as one put it. Any opportunity to flee now was complicated by most people rushing to tackle whoever couldn’t outrun the rowdy drunks. Some, to prevent the poor sap from being kissed by someone unfortunate, like Rodimus or Swerve.
Swerve began loudly complaining about his lack of kisses, especially after Tailgate almost had a full-on brawl break out when he stumbled for the door.
Perceptor still kept that lonely feeling. It wasn’t something he looked forward to being accosted, but no one of value was nearby to chat with. No one even sat next to him. Brainstorm was wise to leave this mess behind but even Ratchet was absent from the festivities. This meant a few dissenters were loudly complaining about his absence.
He wasn’t unaware of a few optics and visors on him either. Anything to knock the uptight scientist down a few pegs than to make him suffer a kiss. It was a mistake to join in with the socializing or the failed attempt at it.
It was hard not to grow envious of the affectionate crew members around him. Whatever this ‘holiday spirit’ was, engex was speeding along its effectiveness. Rodimus gave some big speech about togetherness and family and Perceptor began calculating his exit.
He was still a little drunk and a third-round managed to find itself in his tanks. But it didn’t dull his mind as he astutely watched attentions turn away and then back to him. He would have to calculate a perfect exit. Wait too long and some drunken attention would be turned to him.
An opportunity came as people babbled lowly to each other, the mistletoe forgotten as their interests turned to each other. A few hours longer and he would be in trouble but now was the time to exit.
Perceptor casually stood and left his empty glass meandering as well as he could to the door. Once he felt and saw no optics on him, he took his leave. With his optics on the room, he hadn’t realized there was a chance for treachery outside of the party.
As if on cue, Brainstorm stepped forward to block his path, his wide wings swung into view and Perceptor felt his servo caught up in the digits of his lab associate.
“Brainstorm!”
“I had a feeling you’d be here,” the self-proclaimed genius leaned forward. His push was gentle but firm as he made the scientist back himself against the doorframe. “Waiting for the best moment to leave.”
“How long have you been standing there?” Perceptor accused him almost immediately.
“Did you miss me?”
Perceptor flushed and his shoulders raised up. He did but to admit that would mean admitting to so much more.
“Oh look, mistletoe.”
Perceptor looked up as if this was fresh knowledge and then turned his helm away, “I don’t want an audience to this.”
Brainstorm, being a scientific build, removed his facial blast shield pressing in and pulling it away from his face. Primus, he was handsome. Perceptor grasped at the doorframe as if it would give him the strength to stand. The mech tilted the blast shield and looked at the scientist, who avoided his gaze.
“Rules and procedures are meant to be followed Perceptor.”
It was probably an echo of his own sentiments and it warranted a fierce glare from the slightly tipsy red bot. Brainstorm hated the fact he had to be so deceptive but he’d been waiting all night for this moment and it wasn’t going to slip away no matter how long he had to lurk in the doorway.
Perceptor mumbled something and the jet leaned in closer.
“What was that, Perce?”
“You’ll hide it with the mask?”
“Of course,” Brainstorm smiled and couldn’t help the thrill of energy that coursed through him watching the scientist poker face meld into a flustered embarrassment for admitting such a thing was acceptable.
Behind the blast shield, Perceptor felt a gentle thrill as Brainstorm kissed him under a crudely constructed fake mistletoe. He felt a servo on the small of his back as he was pulled flush against his lab mate. Perceptor wanted more, he wanted to feel the other’s heat vent out against his metal. But they shared an intimately chaste kiss.
Brainstorm pulled away and gave a small, almost spark-breaking smile, “Merry Festivus, Perceptor.”