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The hangar was quiet except for the bass still humming faintly through the walls — a leftover heartbeat from the party.
Air Raid tossed his frame into the cushion of the rickety couch, wings uneven, and a sloppy grin plastered on his face. Strafe sat beside him, hands folded neatly in his lap like he didn’t know what else to do with them. In truth, he didn’t.
“You’re so quiet,” Air Raid said, chuckling as he playfully nudged Strafe’s shoulder with a lazy ped. “You always get shy when it’s just us. I don’t bite..”
Strafe’s vents stuttered as he shoved his foot away, shaking his helm. “You’re— you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Pfft,” Air Raid waved a hand, nearly tipping over before catching himself on Strafe’s arm. “You haven’t had enough.”
Strafe gave a soft noncommittal chuckle, but made no move to push Air Raid away. His plating tingled where their frames made contact, and Air Raid’s unusually open field enveloped him. Strafe could even smell the polish that left his wings so shiny—
He swallowed thickly.
Air Raid’s optics flicked toward Strafe’s visor, the faint blue gleam reflecting in his own cool optics. “Y’know, I always wondered what you look like under that thing.” He seemed to move impossibly closer, draped over Strafe like a sheet.
“Air Raid… don’t—”
But it was too late. With an exaggerated flourish, Air Raid reached out and plucked the visor right off Strafe’s faceplate, holding it up like a trophy. Strafe froze, optics wide and unfocused in the bright light. He squinted.
He voiced a protest, reaching for it, but Air Raid just grinned. “There they are,” he said softly. “Knew you were hiding something interesting.”
Strafe ducked his head, optics dimming, a hand half-raised as if unsure whether to grab the visor or hide his face. He felt oddly… exposed. “…Give it back, Air Raid...”
“Only if you say please.” The Aerialbot purred.
Strafe sighed, but there was a tiny, nervous smile at the corner of his mouth. “Please..?”
Air Raid laughed — a low, warm sound that melted into the quiet air. “Okay, okay…”
He gently lifted Strafe’s cheek, before carefully placing the visor back over the bridge of his nose. Air Raid’s touch was surprisingly gentle, even as it receded and he watched the device flicker back to life.
Strafe’s cheeks felt warm where his fingerprints had been left behind.
“You’ve got nice optics, you know that?” Air Raid softly intoned.
Strafe fumbled for words that didn’t come, the tips of his wings twitching in a way that gave him away completely. He let out a soft huff, lips quirking up again into a soft smile.
He breathed in surprise as Air Raid traced a thumb over his bottom lip, looking up at him with a gentle, sleepy looking gaze. “You should do that more,” the Aerialbot murmured softly. His thumb brushed over the cool metal of his jaw, a trembling kind of curiosity in the touch. Strafe didn’t pull away.
For a klick, nothing happened. Then Air Raid leaned forward, slow enough that the motion felt like a question on its own. Their helms touched first — a quiet clink, the shared warmth of their vents mixing in the narrow space between them. Air Raid’s breath ghosted over his faceplates, and Strafe felt the world melt away around them.
The kiss followed naturally, a feather-light press that barely registered as contact. Strafe’s optics fluttered shut. The hum of the room faded until there was only the steady rhythm of their systems and vents mingling together.
Air Raid pushed forward more intently, and Strafe was helpless to deny him. His servos were moving before he registered where they were headed, gently tracing up the sides of his waist, mapping the warmth of his plating with reverence. He felt Air Raid’s wings give a soft flutter.
Air Raid’s servos twitched against his shoulders, their lips parting with a soft breath between them. Strafe’s frame melted into the couch, enjoying the sensation of the new weight in his lap. Air Raid’s servos moved up to his jaw, leaning forward to chase his lips, oblivious to the approaching footsteps behind them.
“HEY! No canoodling in common areas!” Slingshot noisily snapped, Skydive chuckling in amusement behind him.
Air Raid jerked back so fast he nearly toppled off the couch, wings spreading like a panicked alarm as he fought to balance himself. “Slingshot! No—wait—uh—”
Strafe put a hand over his visor, vents sputtering in embarrassment.