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the-odd-job · 4 years ago

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Close Your Eyes to This Disaster Chapter 1: The Jolly Sound of Chiming Bells...

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Chose Not to Use, Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers G1 Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Megatron, Sideswipe Additional Tags: Dubcon, Sticky, Abusive Relationships, Mind Games, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 7812

It isn't so much his past catching up with him as it is returning to him with a lover’s embrace, but with who that lover is, Sunstreaker isn’t sure that is any more preferable. Now would be the perfect time for a firm “no”.

The expectant thrum of the crowd was deafening even before the fight had begun. Bright lights beamed down on the rusty arena floor, and on Sunstreaker.

As well as his opponent, of course, but by the end of this, no one would remember his opponent. The only one on their minds would be Sunstreaker, that much he promised himself. Let his performance speak for itself and burn his name into their memories.

Not that he didn’t already have a reputation, and not that it would do him any good to get ahead of himself and cocky. This wasn’t for practice, this wasn’t for fun, and this wasn’t intended to be a mismatched fight. The stakes were real, and the loser?

The loser would die.

Sunstreaker gripped his sword just that bit tighter when that thought only managed to excite him further, staring down the mech he was pitted against this time, and having the same done to him. They sized each other up with bloody intent, until…

Until the ring of a bell was transmitted into their comms, passing the noise of the spectators, and the fight began by the grace of that signal.

Focus, pain, and focus through pain. It looked like they were as evenly matched as they were meant to be, that neither could quite get ahead. The exhilaration of being one mistake away from losing his life to a worthy foe pulsed in his lines as they clashed. Metal screeched as it was torn through, sparks flew into the air, broken wiring crackled, energon spilled. It was everything it should be: a violent show for an audience that was thirsty for bloodshed and death, as well as a true challenge for him with his very life on the line. He could scarcely hear his own thoughts over the cheer, holler, and stomping of the crowds, only getting progressively louder with every brutally delivered injury.

But in the end, it was Sunstreaker, bleeding and broken but alive, that stood over the greying husk of his opponent. His vents ran ragged, fans stuttered from how many of them had been damaged, he hurt–

But he was on his pedes and his spark still rotated in its casing.

He thrust his sword into the air to the loud and enthusiastic approval of those that had witnessed his victory, letting the feeling of it sink into him–

Before he turned and left the Pit floor to give someone else the chance to test their mettle.

Sideswipe peeled himself from the wall he had been leaning against when Sunstreaker walked through the gate that opened to let him into the arena’s underbelly, and together they would have set down the dim, dirty, winding corridors towards the medical bay, had there not been an… Obstruction in their way. Sunstreaker’s helm tilted back, far back as he met the piercing red gaze of one champion.

Megatronus. Everyone had surely heard of him, seen him fight, but this?

“A fine victory,” the silvery mech commended him with an incline of his helm. Sunstreaker’s lips drew into a smirk, the haughty kind he knew many hated, the kind that made them think he was nothing but full of himself—arrogant, easy to play and take down.

“Were you expecting something less, champion?” he asked, sidestepping to get past the far larger mech. Megatronus merely mirrored his motion, though, still standing in his way.

Sunstreaker’s spark shivered with just the barest hint of irritation as he cocked an optical ridge at the other that, apparently, wasn’t intent on letting him leave just yet. “Was there something you wanted?” he asked mildly.

And like the most awful flirt in the world, Megatronus responded with, “You,” his gaze intense on Sunstreaker. Had to give it to him, he got straight to the point if nothing else, and admittedly that single word brought back some of the excitement of the fight he’d just finished.

Yet Sunstreaker merely snorted and again stepped to the side to move past the obstacle the mech had made himself. “Get in line.”

But again Megatronus moved to block his way. When Sunstreaker frowned, it was no show. Next to the quickening rotation of his spark, there was true annoyance—but indeed, also a flutter of something else. This was Megatronus, a mech of exceeding name and fame, best of the best, powerful to the last.

And he was talking to Sunstreaker. Could he be blamed for finding it a bit… Exciting?

“Go out with me,” Megatronus near purred at him. Sunstreaker blinked in genuine confusion, because certainly this level of courtship shouldn’t have needed to precede the fragging he expected Megatronus was after.

But once he recovered from his momentary surprise… “No,” came Sunstreaker’s response. When Megatronus still wouldn’t allow him to leave, Sunstreaker planted his pedes instead, crossed his arms across his chassis, and glared.

Megatronus beat him to any words. “You will.”

“Really, now?”

“Tomorrow, eighteenth cycle. Beat’s bar. Don’t be late.”

With one last look that roved from Sunstreaker’s helm to his pedes with something akin to approval, Megatronus turned around and simply left. Sunstreaker frowned after him as Sideswipe stepped up to take his place beside him again.

Turned out the champion was a presumptuous asshole. Fancy that.

“Repairs,” Sideswipe noted their need. Sunstreaker shook himself off and together they continued to their intended destination.

------------------------------------

And yet, he showed up exactly on the eighteenth cycle of the next day, at Beat’s bar. It was loud, dim, and crowded as always, the weight of the hot, stenching air hitting him like a physical force when he stepped through the door. A glance around the establishment, and… There he was. Megatronus, sitting alone at a table, browsing a datapad. Waiting, by all appearances.

Why was he doing this, again? Agreeing to getting ordered around? But he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. A date wasn’t in the usual script. He only wanted to find out what this was about. He could leave any time—tell Megatronus where he could shove it and be done with it.

But for now, his curiosity plagued him and Sunstreaker wove his way through the miners and gladiators to the table Megatronus had claimed, sliding into the seat opposite to him. The silver mech glanced up as he did so, and didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him.

Bastard.

“Punctual,” Megatronus commented, pushing one cube towards him. There was a second one he seemed intent on keeping for himself.

Sunstreaker ignored the cube he was offered, and instead grabbed the other one. The move earned him a raised optical ridge and Sunstreaker couldn’t tell if he imagined the slightest hint of annoyance in the champion’s field, but nothing else came out of it.

“Well, I’m here,” Sunstreaker said after taking his first sip of the sludge that passed as high grade here in the lower decks of Kaon. It was gritty, the taste was as horrid as usual, and it promised to give you one hell of a hangover, but he didn’t know a mech who wouldn’t have been fond of the slag. He didn’t know if Megatronus was any exception, but at the very least the other cube was full of the same stuff and the larger mech went to drink it without hesitation, as he should have. Time to make some demands, then. “Now what the slag do you want?”

“To get to know you, simply,” Megatronus responded, as direct as before.

Sunstreaker raised one artfully crafted optical ridge. “Get to know me? What did I do to deserve a slagging honor like this?”

“Your reputation precedes you. Exquisitely beautiful, but temperamental and dangerous—a rising gladiator no one can claim to be friends with… How does one survive with no allies? Can you fault me for my curiosity?”

“I have a twin. What do I need friends for?”

“Ah, yes, Sideswipe. Quite different from you in his conduct, is he not?”

“I see you’ve done your research.” Sunstreaker leaned back in his seat, cube in hand. Exquisitely beautiful, he said? Well, Sunstreaker wasn’t going to complain about that description. Getting called dangerous by the likes of Megatronus was admittedly gratifying as well, and temperamental… Well, he knew he was. “Should I count you as another one of my stalkers?”

“I know nothing that isn’t out in public,” Megatronus waved his slight accusation away. “And I would rather confirm the truth of matters for myself.”

“Is this just a friendly date, then?”

“Not quite. Should the things I have heard be true, I am… Interested.”

Sunstreaker smirked at the world of suggestion behind those words, setting his cube back onto the table and leaning forward to prop his elbow on the surface, and his chin on his servo. He had the interest of a champion, now? And not just any champion, but Megatronus himself? He had to consider himself flattered. “What if I say the rumors don’t do me any damn justice?”

“Then I would call you even more arrogant than they say you are.”

The twin laughed, tracing the edge of his cube with the tip of his claw. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to insult me.”

“Let us talk, then, so that I may learn to insult you properly.”

“Deal.”

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The twins were already skilled at the art of fighting and learned more every day, and in large part they had trainers to thank for that. They directed sparring with a heavy hand and gave instruction to coach everyone into the best showmech they could become. Sparring without their supervision was fruitful too, of course, not to mention necessary to ingrain it all into their spines until the violence was etched into their very being, so instinctual they didn’t need to question what they could and couldn’t bend their frames to.

Aside from the trainers’ teachings, there was also much to learn from others, when you squared off against them even just with practice in mind. That was all the more true when your opponent was someone more skilled than you were, and when it was Megatronus that offered to train with him? Pit, there was no way Sunstreaker was going to turn that down. Not only for the learning opportunity it was, but also for the status boost sparring with a champion provided.

And not just any champion. The champion, the mech that was talking about a revolution, taking a stand against inequality and the lower castes’ suffering, and fearlessly earning himself as many enemies as he was gaining supporters.

That mech was now sparring with Sunstreaker, and oh boy, they were not matched. The twins were good, they wouldn’t have gotten to the point they had if they weren’t, but they simply were not on the level Megatronus was.

Yet, where Megatronus could’ve simply beaten him over and over again, he instead toned down his own ability and gave Sunstreaker an honest chance to learn. He gave tips, instruction, pointed out when something Sunstreaker did could be improved upon, when he made a mistake—how to correct the mistake. It was unexpected, but far from unwelcome, and Sunstreaker ignored the overlookers they were gaining on the edges of the training ring to instead focus on the spar and only the spar. Sideswipe was among the audience, his optics sharp as he added that frame’s perspective into the mix, giving Sunstreaker a second view of what he was doing. A few times he was quite sure they even managed to catch Megatronus off guard by predicting a move Sunstreaker shouldn’t have seen coming, but that Sideswipe could catch.

But Sunstreaker couldn’t forever ignore his appreciation of Megatronus’ raw skill. The fluidity and speed of his motions even when he held back, the contained strength in everything he did, every shift of heavy plate on the frame that moved so much more smoothly than it had any right to with its sheer size in mind. As both of their systems heated from the exertion, Sunstreaker was sure his optics weren’t the only ones that progressively brightened until there was another reason for why their fans were running high.

That was all confirmed when Megatronus knocked him off his pedes like he had quite a few times already and successfully pinned him before Sunstreaker managed to move out of the way or get himself in a better position, but then, instead of releasing him so they could continue…

He brought a servo up and traced the side of Sunstreaker’s face.

Sunstreaker ignored the way his vents wanted to stutter at the deceptively gentle contact at such odds with what they were doing only seconds ago, and instead raised his optical ridges at the larger mech. “Find me as irresistible as everyone else does, huh?”

Megatronus growled, but there was an undercurrent of amusement to the sound. “Are you opposed?”

Was he? “Can’t say I am.”

“Then let’s take this elsewhere, shall we?”

Sunstreaker arched up, freeing one of his servos only because Megatronus allowed him to and dragging his claws along the larger mech’s seams. “Shy?”

There was another deep growl before Megatronus’ lips descended on his. Sunstreaker laughed into the rough, rough kiss that followed—one that made his lines sing.

-----------------------------------------

At first Megatronus’ interest was directed at Sunstreaker and Sunstreaker only, but the more time the veteran gladiator spent in his presence, the more time he also spent in Sideswipe’s presence. As it happened, the twins were never far from each other, and never apart for long. They were drawn to each other as if caught in each other’s gravity wells, incapable of escaping, not to mention unwilling of doing so. They were split-spark. They were one with so much meaning behind that one word.

Of course, a whole-spark like Megatronus wasn’t going to understand that, at least not instantaneously, and the misguided efforts to get some alone time with Sunstreaker grew tiresome very fast.

“Would you like to come back to my room?” was another time Megatronus spoke only to Sunstreaker, giving a look in Sideswipe’s direction that made it clear he wasn’t included in the invitation. Both of the twins gave him matching frowns, and this time Sunstreaker couldn’t not address the matter.

“We’re twins. Split-spark twins,” he stated flatly, “and every time you’re only inviting one frame?”

Megatronus frowned too, clearly and unsurprisingly not really understanding the point.

Or so they thought. “You’re a package deal?” And there Megatronus was, catching onto at least some of it with minimal prompting. It was a pleasant deviation from what they’d expected.

He probably didn’t get it all the way, but whatever. This was a start. “Trust me, threesomes with both of my frames are the best,” Sideswipe leered, then snickered.

“Both of your frames?” Megatronus repeated, but instead of incredulous, he mostly seemed… Fascinated.

The twins shrugged. “One spark. You don’t get two persons out of that.”

Megatronus stayed quiet for a good moment, glancing between them as if he was trying to pick their inner workings apart with his gaze alone. The twins waited him out, curious themselves over where Megatronus’ thoughts were going with this. Usually they were simply dismissed if they tried to explain themselves, others incapable of seeing over the fact they had two frames—or even when some effort was made to understand their nature, it fell flat and the end result was no more enlightened than what was started with.

They didn’t expect much better success from Megatronus, but then it wasn’t as if they needed to be understood for some casual fragging to be perfectly enjoyable. It would just be mighty nice if they weren’t constantly separated because of it.

“There is some difference between your halves,” Megatronus eventually mused. “You don’t act identical to each other. Why is that?”

Most oddly, it didn’t sound like arguing them on how their own goddamn life worked, more just stating an observation—and following it with a presumably genuine question. Did Megatronus actually want to get them? He’d probably fail miserably in that attempt, but what harm was there in humoring him, hm?

“The frames portray different aspects of my spark,” Sideswipe answered. “Think of it like… A split personality or something.”

Sunstreaker added, “The frames have to maintain separate awareness or they wouldn’t be able to function separately, but the spark-halves are tied.”

Again Megatronus stayed quiet for a while, and again when he spoke up it was with observations. “Sparks are emotion and baseline thought,” he stated the basic truth of their race’s life force, then made a good guess, “you share those?”

The brothers nodded their confirmation.

“I never see you argue,” Megatronus went on to note. “Can you argue or disagree?”

Definitely unusually astute and for the life of him Sunstreaker couldn’t say where Megatronus was pulling these not incorrect assumptions from, when he was a whole-spark like almost every damn mech out there, not even bonded as far as they knew, and simply shouldn’t have had any of the basis for understanding them. Not if any of their past experiences were to go by.

Here he was anyway, though. “Can you argue or disagree with yourself?” Sunstreaker asked in return.

Megatronus gave him a shrewd look. “Only in a sense. Not in the way I can argue with another.”

“That’s me,” Sideswipe confirmed. “Not even the frames have different opinions, and my spark doesn’t have two perspectives. The spark is united.”

“You are a strange creature,” Megatronus said after another moment of thoughtful pause. “I doubt I can ever fully understand your experience, but allow me to try.”

They blinked at him, their turn for utter confusion. When had someone even verbally dedicated themselves to understanding them? Never, that’s when.

The confusion was followed by suspicion. “Why do you care?”

“I seek to understand this world,” Megatronus answered. “All parts of it that I can. I will never grow as a person without knowledge.”

“I’m not exactly important in the grand scheme of things,” Sideswipe pointed out. “You won’t gain much by understanding me.”

“You never know. It will provide me with an additional perspective. That, and will I not earn your approval with my genuine interest?”

Sunstreaker huffed. “So that’s your angle? Worm into my good graces?”

“Am I wrong to want that?” Megatronus asked, reaching to trace Sunstreaker’s jawline—but his optics were on Sideswipe, calculating, as if he was thinking about how to do the same to him.

“It’s almost like you want more than a casual fragbuddy.”

“I am curious about you and find you attractive, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Megatronus smirked.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, but Sideswipe clicked for attention, mischievous and lecherous with the suggestion he made, “How about that threesome, though?”

------------------------------------

It was a rare treat to leave the lower decks, the areas beneath Cybertron’s surface where all the gutter trash inevitably fell. However, Megatronus took them up after one of his victories which apparently gave him enough credits to splurge just a little. Considering Megatronus had already bought his own freedom despite all odds, he could actually spend the credits he now earned on himself—or on another mech of his choosing, if he was so inclined. The twins barely saw a penny of their winnings, entirely at the whim of their owner.

He should probably count himself lucky Megatronus was choosing to entertain them with his newly found funds. For sure Sunstreaker wasn’t opposed to the change in scenery as they took a transport to wherever exactly Megatronus was taking them—he refused to tell the specifics. The twins could have simply driven, or at very least they assumed they could have, depending on where they were going, but Megatronus’ alt-mode was a little less road suitable. So, transport it was.

It turned out Megatronus led them to a tower, one that the twins couldn’t see to be special in any way, but inside they went all the same. The lights here were far brighter than the twins had come to expect after however long they’d spent in Cybertron’s underbelly, speaking of the fact they weren’t in low class areas anymore. A large portion of the mecha around here were comfortably middle caste.

They had polished themselves well and good, though, so they didn’t particularly stand out and didn’t get that many looks as they walked past the stores and service fronts. Upward they traveled with the help of an elevator, until they were at the highest level of the public areas. From there Megatronus led them back outside, onto a balcony that circled the tower at this level.

They weren’t the only ones around, but that wasn’t what the twins focused on. It was the view that stole their attention. Even through the smog the city was covered in, they could make out the outlines of Kaon’s towers all around them and the lights in their countless windows, breaking through the constant pollution. Above them dirty clouds swelled and rolled, their sickly oranges, yellows, and greens reflecting the city’s lights. Fliers zipped by this high up, the sounds of traffic rising from below instead of coming from around and above.

“Slag,” Sideswipe breathed as he spun in a slow circle to take in it all. Their awe was probably reflected all over their faces and their fields, but they didn’t even care. Megatronus chuckled at them as Sideswipe rushed to the railing next, Sunstreaker on his heels, and together they leaned on it to drink in everything they saw. The smells were different up here, too. There wasn’t the same stench of oil and grime, nevermind that of spilled energon no one bothered to clean, that they were used to in the lower decks and the Pits.

Here there was only the smog.

And Sunstreaker knew exactly what he wanted to do with this. He had another look around to confirm there were benches nearby, then went to plop himself down on one and pulled out his drawing tablet. This he could capture, and would do so with eagerness.

Sideswipe didn’t particularly give a damn, but Megatronus came over to him, curious. “You draw?”

“Paint, technically, but yes.”

“Show me.”

Sunstreaker gave him a nasty glare for what was functionally an order, but he wanted to do this. Megatronus’ desires played no role in that, but he might as well watch if he wanted to.

So, the golden twin set to work to capture just what he was seeing in the city around them.

--------------------------------------

Well… He won, but that was about the only thing that could be said about that. Walking out of the arena on your own two pedes was a must, but that was all he had managed before collapsing to his injuries. Sideswipe was the one who had moved to help him first, but Megatronus had brushed his twin aside and picked him up himself.

And here he was in the medical bay of the arena, now, with Megatronus still next to him, looking vaguely concerned. Sunstreaker had to wonder if his injuries really had been that severe, but Sideswipe confirmed that he’d nearly offlined for good a couple of times during the repairs.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics at the questioning look Megatronus gave him. “I’m tougher than I look,” he rasped, frowned at the quality of his voice, then recalled his throat had gotten quite effectively crushed. His vocalizer not working quite like it was supposed to wasn’t much of a surprise, that in mind.

“You won,” Megatronus said mildly, and Sunstreaker nodded.

“I did. Happy?”

“Quite, considering the alternative.”

Sunstreaker snorted this time, but when his gaze shifted back towards the ceiling, he caught another frowning figure a few steps away on his other side.

None other than their owner. Sunstreaker glared and would have loved to deliver some waspish words, but the slave coding silenced him. The mech’s presence wasn’t welcome, though. They far preferred when he took the hands off approach and left them to their own devices as long as they performed well enough.

“That was pathetic, Sunstreaker. Yes, yes, you won, congratulations, but you were not on your usual level,” the mech growled at him. Sunstreaker would have rolled his optics, were he capable of such disrespect. An evil optic was all he could give, until, “Don’t give me that look, Sunstreaker.”

At once his expression smoothed itself out, but only for there to be a thunderous growl that certainly didn’t come from him. Sunstreaker glanced back to Megatronus to see him rising from the seat he had been occupying, and although he was barely inches taller than their owner, he managed to loom with… Titillating effectiveness. Sunstreaker swallowed as he watched the glare Megatronus directed at their owner, who shrank back despite himself. “He won. You got your payment. Now I suggest you leave.”

The grinding of their owner’s denta was audible, but the mech nodded briskly before stalking out of the room with just a hissed, “We will have words later,” directed at the brothers.

Megatronus growled after him, but sat back down. Sunstreaker reached for his face, brushing the claw of his thumb across the larger mech’s lips with a wry smile. “You know I’ll be the one who’ll get in trouble for that.”

“And if you do, you come to me and I will set things straight,” Megatronus snarled in answer, catching his servo in his far, far larger one and giving it a squeeze. Sunstreaker huffed a laugh and Sideswipe padded over to drape himself along Megatronus’ shoulders.

“Thought’s appreciated,” the red twin said with a grin, planting a kiss on the side of Megatronus’ helm. Their lover rumbled almost softly.

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Megatronus had gotten in the habit of treating Sideswipe quite gently, and they weren’t opposed to that. From anyone else it may have been unwelcome, too touchy-feely coming from just any random mech, even a friend, but they were sort of beyond that point with Megatronus—much to everyone’s mutual pleasure. It was never more apparent than now, with Sideswipe moaning softly below Megatronus, slow, deep thrusts driving the larger mech into his brother’s frame over and over again. It was a slow climb towards an overload, one Sideswipe was rather enjoying with a blissed out expression, and from his look, so was Megatronus.

Sunstreaker barely managed to keep his face neutral where he sat in a chair to the side, drawing that very scene—his twin nearly hidden under their lover’s sheer bulk as they interfaced, slow and steady. There was so much strength contained in Megatronus’ frame, yet in the moment he chose to use barely any of it, his hips just cautious enough in their motion and his arms braced on either side of Sideswipe, keeping him off of him. Sideswipe could have wiggled free any moment, but why would he have? He stayed right where Megatronus could herd his wits to the four winds with nothing but the motion of his hips.

It was a moment worth capturing.

--------------------------------

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Megatronus’ growl was a vicious thing and Sunstreaker had to glance back just to confirm it was directed at him. Not that there was anyone else present aside from him and Sideswipe, but frankly, Sunstreaker had no idea what they would have done to earn a tone like that.

“Notice what?” Sunstreaker asked with a frown, going back to viewing his reflection from the dim mirror in their room. It was a near useless thing, but combined with Sideswipe’s optics it still provided him with a good enough overview of his frame, and more importantly, his finish. He was shining now, though that never lasted long in the environment they were in. All the work that went into maintaining his dear looks…

“Don’t feign ignorance,” Megatronus continued in that same voice that promised nothing good, drawing Sunstreaker’s attention from the mirror properly. Before he could again ask for some fragging clarification, Megatronus had already closed the distance between them, looming over him and spitting his accusation. “Do you make a habit of encouraging others’ advances where I can’t see it?”

Oh, for frag’s sake… Sunstreaker turned around fully, facing the larger mech and landing his servos on his hips. “Listen here, you ass,” he growled, “I have no pitting clue what you’re talking about. I haven’t ‘faced anyone else since we went exclusive, as we slagging well agreed.”

Megatronus forced him back a step until he was nearly pinned against the mirror, the larger gladiator’s servo slamming into the wall next to it and him. Sunstreaker’s optics narrowed, but Megatronus showed no signs of calming the frag down. “So you only lead others on?” Megatronus hissed at him. “Let them grope you a little, but it’s alright because you don’t full on interface with them, hmm?”

Sunstreaker threw his arms up in frustration. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m hot as fresh slag, and some take that as too big of an invitation,” he snarled right back at their clearly a little too jealous lover. “I make a habit of punching them somewhere painful for it, but I can’t always prevent it ahead of time. That’s not satisfactory? The pit more do you want?”

Megatronus leaned down and Sunstreaker met his burning gaze without waver all through the larger mech’s growled response, “You belong to me, and I don’t like others touching what is mine.”

At that point Sunstreaker’s lips drew into a sneer and he copied Megatronus’ move and leaned in. “If you haven’t noticed, we already have an owner, and it’s not you,” he pointed out, voice cold. Oh how he would have preferred to not belong to anyone—not even Megatronus. Not in that way. What he wouldn’t give to be his own master and not have contracts or possessive lovers telling him otherwise.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting for a reminder like that, but he wasn’t sure it was Megatronus closing the rest of the distance between them and crashing their lips together. Sunstreaker grimaced when the larger mech’s denta came into play immediately, painfully grazing his dermal plating. It distracted him enough that he wasn’t fast enough to dodge when Megatronus’ servos closed around the arms Sunstreaker brought up to push the massive bastard away. From there he was no match to Megatronus’ strength and size and could do little when he was slammed against the wall—next to the mirror instead of against it, luckily—and lifted until his pedes didn’t meet the ground, but where he would’ve been in the perfect position to wrap his legs around Megatronus’ middle.

Was that where this was going? “Let the slag go of me,” Sunstreaker growled, but the parting of his lips only had Megatronus’ slagging glossa shove in.

He bit down on it without fanfare, earning himself a roar from Megatronus’ engine. The grip on him shifted until Megatronus could securely hold him up with one arm only, the other slipping between his thighs and… This was definitely going there. The roar of Sunstreaker’s engine fought to match Megatronus’, even if it never could.

Megatronus pulled back from his mouth enough to growl a simple, “Open.”

“Go frag yourself,” Sunstreaker hissed at him, fury surging all the higher when Megatronus’ claws pressed against the seams of his valve cover with painful force.

The only response he got was another growl and those claws sank into the seams. Sunstreaker’s helm fell back against the wall with a pained grunt, but when Megatronus twisted with the apparent intent of ripping the whole damn panel off, Sunstreaker hurriedly transformed it aside before it was bent so far out of shape it couldn’t have done that anymore.

There was no preparation. No preparation whatsoever, just Megatronus releasing his spike and thrusting in with one uncaring stroke. Sunstreaker squirmed between him and the wall, hissing at the tearing pain at his insides when his lover’s always a little too big spike scraped against barely damp walls. His claws dug into silver plating, as much as he knew that wouldn’t do him any good, not with the thickness of Megatronus’ armor. The only good reason for it was to ground himself on something when Megatronus set to frag him, hard. It tore at his inner sensors until there was barely even the slightest hint of pleasure left. His ventilations became ragged from anything but arousal.

Megatronus gave no quarter before he overloaded after too long, torturous moments, Sunstreaker grimacing at the feel of hot transfluid against his abraded valve walls. Only once the charge had fully dissipated from his damned lover’s frame did Megatronus pull away, anger still in his optics. Sunstreaker’s valve was blessedly abandoned, but when Megatronus simply dropped him to the floor, the lancing pain from his core made sure Sunstreaker’s legs wouldn’t carry him and he fell to his knees.

That did nothing to help with his own anger, and Sunstreaker would have bet his optics were even more fierce than Megatronus’ when he lifted his gaze to the mech looming over him.

“Out,” Sunstreaker growled, stretching out one arm to point a digit at the goddamn door. “Get the frag out of my room.”

Surprisingly, Megatronus obeyed—without an apology, without a single backwards glance. He left.

-----------------------------

It always felt like an invasion when their owner came to the room of the Pits they called their own. It was their room, and it didn’t matter slag that technically the fragging mech had a right to it because he owned the twins and everything they could possibly claim to belong to them. Their room included.

But here he was now, with the brothers sitting on their berth and their visitor in the one chair in the room.

“Megatronus,” the mech spoke, watching for their reaction.

They gave none, so he continued, “He’s becoming a distraction to you. You need to focus on your careers, not on pointless dalliances. It’s your lives at stake.”

Only because you keep signing me into deathmatches.

But they could hardly accuse their dear owner of that much. Even the truth of, “He gives us training,” was a hard thing to force past the slave coding, but Sunstreaker did so anyway.

Their owner frowned. “Enough to balance out the amount of time you spend with him? No. Your relationship with him needs to end.”

Sunstreaker closed his optics as the slave coding registered that and worked to put it in effect. It was a little too complex of an order for it to force it upon them entirely. They could work around it with some effort, if they wanted to.

He wasn’t sure if their owner knew as much, but there were always other orders he could pile on top to really make it impossible for them to stay in a “relationship” with Megatronus.

“Do you understand me?” the mech demanded still.

“I understand,” Sunstreaker said, Sideswipe repeating the same words next to him. His brother watched their owner nod in satisfaction and Sunstreaker opened his optics in time to watch him leave.

“Don’t forget,” was all they were told in parting before they had their room for themselves again.

After silence and stillness had stretched on for a while, Sideswipe stated, “Megatronus can do something about that. If I want him to.”

“I want him to,” Sunstreaker confirmed, setting his jaw. Their damn owner wouldn’t choose who they had relations with, even if they needed to fix the matter in a roundabout fashion.

Their decision made, Sideswipe pulled up Megatronus’ commlink without wasting any more time and pinged for his attention. The connection was opened almost immediately.

“Can you come by tonight?” was all Sideswipe asked. There was a brief pause on Megatronus’ end before he confirmed he could do that–

And that night he did indeed come over, the twins opening the door for him. Their lover was already wearing a frown, likely having caught onto something being off. He was many things, but dumb wasn’t one of them.

“What’s the matter?” he asked almost as soon as the door had closed after him.

Sunstreaker gushed air from his vents. “Our owner wants us to end our relationship with you,” was all he needed to say for Megatronus to understand everything he needed to. His face darkened like a storm cloud, a growl rising from his engine.

“I will have… Words with him.”

As they had hoped. The brothers nodded and Megatronus moved further into the room until he could circle behind Sideswipe, his servos landing on the red twin’s shoulders and running along his plating. “How firm is the order, currently?”

“Not very. Yet,” Sideswipe murmured, tilting his helm back to look up at Megatron. “But he can make it more specific.

Megatronus’ mouth set into a thin line and he nodded, his touch on Sideswipe turning just that bit more possessive—suggestive. They weren’t opposed to it and Megatronus went on to prove to no one in particular that they wouldn’t be parted quite so easily.

The next day, their owner came by to rescind his order, a little dinged and shaky.

-----------------------------

“I could buy your contracts.”

Sunstreaker looked up from his painting. Megatronus was already looking at him and that… Didn’t sound like a joke. In fact, it sounded like Megatronus was very serious with that thought, as if he’d already considered it for a while.

The twins had nothing more to offer him than matching frowns, though. “I’m sure you could,” Sunstreaker agreed on that much, only to continue, “but you won’t.”

“Why would I not? Would you not be glad to be rid of your owner?”

Their frowns deepened. “Only to have you as our owner instead? We’d be in the exact same spot. Nothing would change. So no, thank you.”

“Nothing would change?” Megatronus growled. “Having someone who cares about you holding your legal contracts would change nothing?”

“The contracts would still exist,” Sunstreaker snarled right back. “Even if you didn’t actually use them, I’d slagging well owe you. My entire fragging life, in fact. I will not be indebted to you like that.”

It looked like their lover was quickly growing frustrated, as if he’d assumed it was a given that they would agree with… What? Joyful jumps? Grateful kisses? Thankful frags?

Well, slag that.

“You’re not thinking with reason,” Megatronus let him know, earning himself Sunstreaker’s full glare, not that it discouraged him any. “If you set aside your emotions for a moment, you would see that is the perfect arrangement.”

“Perfect for you, maybe!” Sunstreaker set his drawing tablet aside before he harmed it in his rising temper, jabbing a digit in Megatronus’ chest. “You’d fragging own me, and legally you could do whatever the frag you wanted with me.”

“Do you not trust my intentions?”

“Honestly? Not slagging enough.”

That was probably over the line a bit. Megatronus growled with his entire frame, but this wasn’t the right moment to back the frag down. Instead Sunstreaker drove the stake deeper, pressing the tip of his claw against Megatronus’ chestplates. “Let me make myself very clear: you buy my contracts and I will find a way beat it the slag out of this whole damn city and leave you behind. Mark my slagging words.”

Megatronus glared at him, an expression Sunstreaker fully matched. It wouldn’t be an easy trick to pull off, but at this point he trusted Megatronus knew them to be crafty enough that they might just succeed in it no matter the cost—and even if they didn’t, it would leave their relationship in permanent ruins, something he doubted their lover actually wanted or would be willing to risk.

That was the hope, anyway.

Megatronus didn’t answer him, at least not verbally, though the rough servo that wrapped around the back of Sunstreaker’s helm and pulled him into an equally rough kiss was probably answer enough. He wasn’t let off that easy, either, because Megatronus pulled him up and broke their kiss only to yank him around and press Sunstreaker’s chest against the nearest wall. Hard. “You are unreasonably stubborn,” was hissed into his audial and his legs were kicked apart to make room for Megatronus’ servo between them. “I try to help you, and you turn it down without any true consideration.” Sunstreaker retracted his valve cover before he was relieved of it entirely, the one and only concession he made before he was lifted for Megatronus to line up their arrays. The fact Sunstreaker had next to no lubrication was likely right according to Megatronus’ current desires—the entry chafed in the worst ways and he couldn’t entirely silence his groan.

“Do you not see my love for you?” Megatronus grunted on his next thrust in. Sunstreaker growled, but his lover continued, “Everything I would do for you? Instead you lay down misguided ultimatums and think you know best.”

“It’s my life,” Sunstreaker hissed, twisting in Megatronus’ hold as the burn in his valve worsened with every harsh thrust. “Like it or not, I should get to choose how it goes.”

“I should let you make decisions to your own detriment?” Megatronus growled, the next snap of his hips particularly punishing.

Sunstreaker’s claws dug into the wall, but he held his ground. “Yes. They’re my mistakes to make and my consequences to live with.”

“Don’t you see I only want to protect you?”

“Well, don’t. It’s—hngh—my right to live and make mistakes. You won’t take that away from me.”

“Stubborn you are, my dear,” Megatronus snarled at him. Sunstreaker’s back arched from fresh hell when his love angled his thrusts differently, and sped his pace up.

--------------------------

“You scheduled goddamn frame edits for us?”

Megatronus barely bothered to glance up from whatever he was writing and the blatant dismissal only made Sunstreaker angrier. “There are improvements that can be made to your frames,” was all the answer he got before Megatronus went right back to whatever he was working on.

Sunstreaker stalked up to his desk and slammed his servo down over his lover’s datapad hard enough that the screen splintered. “I never agreed to this. Some of them are external edits. You fragging bastard, I already like how I look.”

The look Megatronus gave him was chilly to say the least, but true to form, Sunstreaker wasn’t cowed one bit. “As I said, improvements can be made,” Megatronus simply said.

“And who defines what’s an improvement?” Sunstreaker grit out, shoving at Megatronus’ shoulder. “You? They’re my fragging frames.”

“Did you even have a look at the order?” Megatronus asked from him, aggravated. Good for him, Sunstreaker was pretty damn aggravated himself. That made two of them.

“I did, but that’s entirely beside the point.”

“Is it? Did you not like them?”

“I don’t like that you’re trying to dictate what the pit I look like!” Sunstreaker straightened to his full height and crossed his arms across his chassis, but even so he didn’t exactly manage to be taller than Megatronus. Didn’t matter. “My life, my frames, my looks. I choose them, and you’re not fragging going to play my damn owner, trying to tell me what I am or am not to look like.”

“Did you not like them?” Megatronus demanded more firmly, his glare as intense as Sunstreaker’s. Their staring contest was true, neither backing down.

“That’s beside the point. You didn’t have permission.”

Before Megatronus could answer to that, there was a ping at his door. Sunstreaker glanced over his shoulder to see it slide aside to reveal… Soundwave. That probably meant there was some important rebellion business to be discussed. Just when were Megatronus and his supporters planning to make their big move, anyway? Sunstreaker couldn’t remember, and in the moment, couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Cancel them,” he growled at Megatronus before he turned on his heel and marched to the door, “I’m not showing up anyway,” then past Megatronus’ second who moved to the side to let him through.

Frame edits his fragging ass… Not while his spark still pulsed.

--------------------------

“No. I’m fragging well going, and that’s final. Slag you.”

“I will not have who knows what manner of filthy servos pawing you,” Megatron snarled at him. His fist slamming into the wall next to him would have been more of a deterrent if Sunstreaker wasn’t able to simply slip under it. Something good out of their size difference…

But they’d been here before and Megatron made a grab at him when he tried to escape the revolutionist’s clutches—successfully escape, despite that. He danced out of Megatron’s reach, glaring the whole way, twice as hard when Megatron began to stalk towards him, angling just right to block his exit.

“It’s a party. That’s part of the drill. I won’t frag anyone as you slagging well know, and some groping? If I can live with it, you can live with it too. They’re my slagging frames.”

Megatron’s optics darkened with sheer anger, and this was one argument where it was unlikely either of them would just give, wasn’t it? The brothers wanted to go out and enjoy a nice evening with some fragging friends—let the high grade flow and music pound—and Megatron was intent on being the possessive bitch he always was. They never reached an agreement in these matters.

“Do you not find my attention enough?” Megatron asked from him, constantly advancing, and Sunstreaker constantly retreating. “Do you need to go seek the approval of strangers on top of it?”

“Pits, I don’t need anyone telling me I’m fragging beautiful, thanks. All I want is to go drink and dance. That is not too much to ask. No, wait. I’m not asking. I’m going.”

They glared at each other, but he managed to stay ahead of Megatron enough that he wasn’t grabbed and most likely ‘faced through the floor or something of equal pleasantness.

“Why is it so hard to understand I don’t want something of mine tainted?” Megatron demanded from him, his face and his field speaking of his fury. How dare Sunstreaker disobey him so, yada yada. It was the same old song and dance.

“I’d listen to that argument if I was about to ‘face someone, but some groping isn’t going to do a damn thing,” Sunstreaker growled. His optics didn’t flick to the door, he didn’t project his plan before he’d already set it in motion—dashing past Megatron when the opening was big enough, before his lover could physically stop him as he was so damn eager to do.

He made it to the door, and he made it through the door before he turned back just enough to snarl his final, vicious, “And you’ll just have to live with it, love.”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #megatron #sunstreaker #sideswipe #megasun #megaswipe #fic #2021 #disaster

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breadclubrising · 4 years ago

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Why do you believe another gl reunion would make Ibushi fulfilled? Bc last time he seemed pretty annoyed by the end of it, saying he was just being tossed aside as "Kenny's replacement" and "I have nothing else to do in this tournament" and ofc the "I've always been alone". Why would it be different now?

wellllllllllll because the GL story has a surprising amount of nuance for a wrestling storyline, and has kind of deliberately mixed kayfabe with real life in such a way that you can’t talk about them separately a lot of the time.

i DEFINITELY didn’t say he ‘needs’ it to be ‘fulfilled’, because that is a thing that would give me hives to say. i have many times said he doesn’t need Kenny and that’s been the point, is that they both totally can be great without each other, but they keep choosing each other and even if they’re successful in their careers, they are unhappy when they’re apart. if you find that disagreeable, please email kota (i know for a fact he does not check his email because of course he doesn’t). What I said was: it is how their careers will play out because they literally say that will happen and they have gone to LENGTHS in real life to make it happen.

i saw someone on twitter who bothered to take a screenshot of some galaxy brain on reddit finally figuring out that ibushi and omega see each other as endgame, and captioned it something like ‘golden lovers is the worst story in wrestling please stop.’ which is totally an opinion you are welcome to have but also, the part about them being each other’s endgame is a thing they both have said and kenny in particular will never let anyone forget. i do not understand why people give it the ‘lol shut up fangirl shippers’ treatment when it’s a thing that has been telegraphed since the beginning of time, unless you are calling ibushi and omega fangirl shippers, which you actually probably should bc no one ships GL more. anyway, i actually completely get why people who don’t like the storyline, or don’t like kenny, or whatever, have a different reading of the actual events that took place. but it means that you asking me this question isn’t going to get you a satisfying answer, and that makes me feel like you’re just asking me this to make me feel bad for liking a thing incorrectly.

but you did ask, which is totally on you, so: Ibushi said (explicitly, in interviews, and on twitter) that he was frustrated with himself for not Reaching His Potential. He never expressed frustration with Kenny, or even with NJPW’s booking. He wasn’t even officially signed until a couple months after Kenny left.

It was like this: he was an outsider in the company. He was always paired with the guy who is like, certified by the belt to be The Best Wrestler In The World. That guy had a problem like the bus in Speed, except instead of having to maintain a speed of 60mph to avoid exploding, the bus has to constantly say its boyfriend is the coolest. So Kenny, the best wrestler in the world according to kayfabe, is like ‘actually my mans here is the best wrestler in the world’ and kota’s like ‘thanks i love you too but i’m pretty sure you’re the one with the belt and the pwi cover and 437 meltzer stars you fucking labradoodle.’ (I’d bet money Kota does not know what a labradoodle is.) Kenny’s stanning was sweet and well-intentioned but to Kota it only highlighted the achievement gulf between them. And it did not help that his mentor Tanahashi was like ‘allow me to highlight the achievement gulf between you and your genetically inferior labradoodle boyfriend, whomst i don’t like for Reasons.’

And that made Ibushi be like ‘i’m 36 (at the time) years old and I have every muscle and yet, no accolades. the fact that i have not yet managed to be the unequivocal best and that i foolishly had a body and feelings is shameful and weak.’

That’s how he is: he beats himself up about stuff like goddamn taking time off to heal from neck surgery and a mental breakdown, and the unforgivable sin of not being quite sure what direction he wanted to take his career. It felt really bad! It deffos did! But his frustration was not directed where you think it was! But that’s the part I said you’re not going to agree with me on, so!

There was so much going ON in this story and it was really GOOD! Like all the stuff with Tanahashi was incredible and heart-wrenching and you just wanted to both smack and hug all three of them and it was a really good story!

Sometimes I just need to remind myself of that bc people who dislike the Golden Lovers are very reductive about why they assume people like the thing they do not like. But yes, it actually is a good story, now that I type a tiny part of it out like that; not my fault some people seem to have missed the epic heroes’ journeys forest for the gay love story trees. Not that there’s anything wrong with gay love story trees; also very much part of the forest.

Anyway Anon, part of the reason earlier on I speculated that you just came to my inbox to try to make me feel sad for liking things in a way you did not was that... honestly. HOW did ANYONE watch Ibushi say “I was always alone, before” after he won the 2019 G1 and go “king said ‘new career who dis’ and deleted kenneth’s number from his phone! 👏always 👏alone 👏before 👏!!!’

Like yeah those are the words he said but, you know, words can mean a lot of things! and personally, I think it’s relevant that those words were enveloped by a heartbreakingly pained smile that says ‘GREAT question Tokyo Sports, i WILL cry RIGHT here at this FUCKING folding table if you do not IMMEDIATELY pretend along with me that my existence began earlier this evening when I entered this arena. thanks in advance!’ Like!

Yep, look at that smug fuck pretending not to know who his shitty ex is! Prolly thinking of some good labradoodle jokes.

(On the real i know that not everyone is good at ascertaining emotion from facial expressions. I get that, and I’m not gonna dog on anyone for it, because I myself am often not great at it. And honestly? If he meant this in the “I don’t know her” sense, I would probably have loved it, bc I am a Kota Ibushi fan first, a human second, an antifa supersoldier third, and then a Golden Lovers Scholar like somewhere in the low 20s. But... I can’t even pretend that reading works for me. I hate looking at these gifs. That’s how much this reads to me as Having A Bad Time, like this man’s face is among my favorite things to view on this horrible planet and my heart feels like it’s being poked with a broken toothpick every time these gifs loop.)

And finally, because of the thing I said in the first paragraph that I wrote when I was like “i’m just gonna write a quick answer to this ask” like some kind of fucking fool who has never seen my own blog: it would not “be different now”, it has always been this story, and both Kenny and Kota say that when they are able to. It mixes kayfabe with real life, and in real life it’s really clear that it’s endgame for both of them, and I’m very sorry to GL haters but please direct your displeasure with the narrative to the two nerds who are determined to continue it across decades and oceans.

#kota ibushi #golden lovers #has anyone ever been on their bullshit as much as me right now?#why would you ask me this question #you just hate me and wanted to make me look at the sad angel gifs :(#well played #Anonymous

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darlinrogue · 4 years ago

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the first time kota and adam hugged, kota swore that he felt anything but fear.

Ibushi

Kota and Adam || @lavmisc

The alarm clock displayed an ominous, crimson red, 1:34 AM. The ceiling fan turned in lazy circles and churned the humid night heat. Sirens blared on the streets outside. Strips of headlights playing on the backs of the curtains. Cheek wedged against his pillow, Adam stared at the numbers and then gave-up. He rolled out of bed and left behind disarrayed sheets. Adam yanked on jeans and a t-shirt. He left his hotel room in a stupor, stumbling down the hall. Around the fifth landing of the stairs, his brain caught-up with his feet. The frontal parts of his brain cussed-out the back parts of his brain as he merged into the hotel lobby. The lights were dimmed and a clerk lounged behind the desk with a magazine. Adam hung a sharp right and pushed through a glass door leading outside.

Earlier, when he checked-in he had noticed a seating area outside. A small veranda connected to the pool area with wicker furniture and dainty, thin leaf decorative ferns. It was a space that wasn’t his hotel room, with its nauseating beige walls and too-soft bed. Water lapped at the side of the pool and a cool, gentle breeze brushed through the ends of Adam’s hair. Gold light spilled from the hotel lobby, contrasted with the pale blue glow from the water. Adam closed the door behind him. The latch turned and clicked. Someone sat on the stone steps leading down to the sidewalk. They sat hunched over, shoulders rolled forward, and elbows braced against their knees. A t-shirt stretched over the defined muscles of their back. The soft, red color of Ibushi’s hair sparked recognition in Adam. Adam let his hand fall off the door handle and for a moment too long he stood there, staring.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of Ibushi but something burned in his chest whenever he saw him. It was exhilaration and hesitation and hope all rolled into a blanket of uncertainty. A couple weeks ago they had drinks at a dive bar, alone, and Ibushi had held his hand in reverence. Then he was there, with Kenny, early in the tournament, kneeling over Adam with a face twisted in concern. The run of his fingers over Adam’s skin ran tingling paths of warmth. Adam had gazed-up at him, haloed by the spotlight, not quite sure why he was there. And now here, alone, way past their bedtimes— Adam was uncertain of his welcome. He and Ibushi drifted on an uncut line, with no hard boundaries, no destination. It was limitless and perilous. There had to be a hard stop, a wall of some sort, and it was going to hurt like hell whenever Adam ran face first into it.

He took the first step and Ibushi twisted over his shoulder to look. Ibushi blinked, eyes adjusting to the dimness of the veranda. Then, even in the soft light, gold and blue playing on his angular features, Adam saw him smile. Ibushi nodded and Adam took that as a beckoning gesture, a subtle, ‘come hither.’ Emboldened by the not outright-rejection, Adam walked over. He sank down on the stone steps beside Ibushi, grumbling as his knees clicked. Adam rolled out his shoulders and twisted to pop his back. A couple small stretches to wash off the dredges of his stiffness. Then, he settled back, draping his forearm over his bent knee and looking with Ibushi at the dancing water in the pool. In the distance, another siren screamed and then faded.

“Can’t sleep, Page-san?” Ibushi asked.

Adam glanced at him, hearing the unfamiliar English fall from Kota’s lips. Ibushi tilted his head at a slight angle, his dark eyes earnest, as if Adam burning the midnight oil was a legitimate concern of his. Which was absurd, if kind of adorable. Ultra did a similar head tilt when he was concerned or confused. It was very endearing, very —and the thought hit Adam like a freight train— cute. His mind dismissed that thought alongside the idea that Ibushi actually cared that much.

“Yeah, no, just got too much on my mind, I guess,” Adam admitted. He glanced down at his hands, resting between his legs. “I mean, I got a match tomorrow, so maybe I shouldn’t be out here but, uh, here we are.”

Ibushi made a grunting noise in agreement, nodding his head. He said, “I came here to clear my head, to focus.”

He spoke in Japanese now and by instinct Adam tipped forward to listen better. He’d been drilling Japanese like a madman and his immersion over the past couple weeks had helped. Adam also heard how Ibushi slowed his speech, annunciated better for him. A sharp contrast to the quick and dizzying pace he usually set with Kenny. Part of Adam was grateful for the thoughtfulness, another part of him felt guilty for making Ibushi talk so unnaturally.

“You want me to go?” Adam asked, he pointed at the door. “I can leave—”

“No, I like you here,” Kota said, such a simple phrase but Adam struggled to comprehend it. Kota placed his hand on Adam’s arm, a physical barrier to keep him from getting-up. “Please, stay, the company is nice.”

“Sure,” Adam breathed.

Kota hadn’t moved his hand and again his touch burned. There had to be something wrong with him. Kota gripped his wrist, and squeezed. Ever so slow, hesitant, as if Kota was a timid squirrel that’s scare away at a quick movement, or something, Adam turned over his hand. He watched with open fascination as Kota slid his hand down until their palms caressed. Adam didn’t move, didn’t dare even breath, until Kota had interlaced his fingers with his. It was picture perfect, the way they locked together and Adam couldn’t believe this was the guy he hated a handful of months ago.

Laying in bed for three hours, Adam’s thoughts had been topical. From worries about his family and the chores he had to do when he got home. About the matches on his card and the string of losses he left behind him in the G1. Before he came to Japan this whole month hung together like a painting on the wall, the colors crisp and the ideas clear. Now, the paint muddled and the nails gave way, the frame cracked. Topped on all of that was Kota Ibushi and Kenny Omega, his two travel compatriots— relationships unchaperoned by Cody or the Bucks for the first time. Wound together with the history of the past year and tangled with how much Adam didn’t know them, was Adam’s point count compared to Ibushi or Kenny. Night and day, loser and winners, and all Adam could think about was that he didn’t deserve to be on this tour. He was waiting for the other boot to drop, for Ibushi and Kenny to turn around, drop the pretenses, and tell him to get the fuck out.

Instead, he looked down again. At Ibushi’s long, slender fingers, tangled with his own. Pale blue veins ran over the intricate bones of his hands and knuckles. Ibushi tipped over and leaned against Adam’s side. His cheek pressed against Adam’s shoulder and Ibushi hummed, low in his throat. It was as sweet and content as a cat’s purr. Then, Ibushi straightened, but he didn’t move away, so they were hip-to-hip, rib-to-rib, knee-to-knee. Bone-to-bone, like Ibushi was trying to sink into Adam’s veins and wedge his way under his rib cage. Dig at Adam’s heart where all he’d find is charcoal, ash, and dust; bitterness, jealousy, anger, frustration—

Poison.

Tanahashi, was the Ace of New Japan, and for some reason, when Adam looked at him, he saw all the things he could never be.

“What’s on your mind, Page-san?” Ibushi asked. Adam felt his eyes drill into him but he couldn’t look back. Adam swallowed hard, and couldn’t stand how soft Ibushi’s voice was, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s— it’s nothing,” Adam admitted. Skin-to-skin, his hands burned where he touched Ibushi but he couldn’t snatch his hand back, just withstand the intensity of the heat. He dismissed Ibushi’s concerns but the next time he opened his mouth the words all spilled-out in a rush, like he couldn’t barf them up fast enough. “I mean I, I was just thinking, about the match today. I thought Tanahashi was mine, I really did. We’d fought before, you know, and I may’ve lost then but I could feel it— he was in reach. I just— I just feel like the only reason I lost was because I let it slip my grip. I let it go, I fucked it up—”

“Page, you can’t let one loss take up so much space in your mind,” Ibushi warned. He slipped his hand from Adam’s and Adam’s hand felt so much emptier for it. Ibushi pressed his palm to Adam’s shoulder. “There are other matches in the G1, other chances. You’ll get yours, I know it.”

“It’s not just one loss, though,” Adam protested. “Right now it’s three, in a row, I if I don’t get some points soon, I’ll be out altogether—”

“Page, those losses?” Ibushi began. “Did you learn something from them?”

Adam gaped for a moment. He ran his tongue over his lips and then admitted, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Then they aren’t losses,” Ibushi stated, simply. “They’re victories, because through them you grow. Maybe, maybe you don’t win another match in the G1, maybe you do— but next year, next year will be better. Because you’ll have learned and you’ll be ready. Growth is hard Page, but you’re strong, I know you can do it. Keep going!”

“Kenny won his first G1,” Adam said. His head ducked and he braced his elbows against his knee, like he was propping himself up.

“Kenny is eight years older than you,” Ibushi retorted.

Even Adam had to laugh at such a dry reply. It was true, he was holding himself to an impossible standard— but if he didn’t drive himself, if he didn’t try. Ibushi reached between them and he turned Adam’s face to look at him. Like, he knew Adam’s thoughts were wandering and wanted to reel them back in like fishing line. Adam’s breath trembled, locking eyes with Ibushi.

“I’ve stood against you in the ring,” Ibushi said. “I know you’ll go far.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Adam asked, because he had to change the subject in the face of such unwavering faith he didn’t deserve.

“I was thinking about us,” Ibushi admitted. “You, me, and Kenny, being with you, makes me happy— I hope that after the G1 we can stay like this.”

“Is there a reason we couldn’t?” Adam asked, his brow furrowed, and he hated how helplessly, stupidly optimistic his voice sounded. It was almost a childish question. The soft smile Kota gave him, didn’t reassure him. Kota tugged on Adam’s elbow and they stood together.

Kota hooked his arm around Adam’s shoulders and tugged him in. Adam froze, muscles tensing, hands hovering by Kota’s sides. Japan had twisted Adam into a knot and now Ibushi dug his fingers in to unravel him. He relaxed and Adam ducked his nose to Kota’s throat. He breathed in hotel soap, fresh linens, something floral, and a hint of sweat. Kota ran his hands along the ridge of Adam’s spine, like a spark of fire and gasoline. Adam wrapped his arms around Kota and twisted his fingers in Kota’s shirt. Kota was soft and warm, in a way life hadn’t been for a while. What if they spent hours like this, holding each other together, and what if Adam tugged Ibushi to his hotel room, and they stayed together in their ‘can’t sleepness.’Then, Adam realized what he was doing— and he let go. He stepped back, hands falling to his sides, expecting that hard stop and reprimand. Adam forced himself to meet Ibushi’s eyes but didn’t find his hesitation mirrored.

And that terrified Adam.

Like, Ibushi had seen something Adam’d been trying to hide.

“I should uh, go to bed,” Adam stuttered, he ducked his head. He managed a weak laugh, “I have to fight EVIL tomorrow so I’ll definitely need my beauty sleep.”

“Sleep well, Page—san,” Ibushi suggested.

“Hey, uh, you too,” Adam smiled.

Another step away from Ibushi before Adam turned tail and fled back into the hotel. On the elevator ride back to his room he stared into the reflection of the metallic walls. His own eyes stared back and Adam couldn’t decide if he liked what he saw. Or, if his skin just crawled like he didn’t belong in it.

#lavmisc #‘The Hangman’ || Adam: IC #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse #;;

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hazyheel · 5 years ago

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NJPW G1 Climax Day 10 Review

Hirooki Goto vs. Toru Yano in Block B: An battle within Chaos, although Goto always tends to be the odd man out in Chaos. Goto was immediately worried about Yano as they started out, even not being very willing to get in the ring to start. Yano led the crowd in a Chaos chant, and as Goto got into it, he stood on the top rope, only for Yano to wrap his shirt around his face for a pair of rollups. Yano removed the turnbuckle pad, and the two began their wild brawl. Goto locked up his legs and then locked him in a pinning predicament for the win. Goto: 4, Yano: 4.

Grade: D+. I just wasn’t into this, and it was too quick to really get invested in. The story here was that they always have really quick matches, so the winner would be whoever could close it out in that time. I didn’t care, but good for Goto getting another two points.

Juice Robinson vs. Tomohiro Ishii in Block B: the two started out with a series of shoulder tackles to each other, with Robinson actually holding his own with the much bigger man. They transitioned into a striking and chopping contest, and both men totally blistered each other’s chests. Robinson actually won that contest, before picking him back up and slapping him disrespectfully. That made ishii so mad that he started to utilize his angry throat chops and even push the ref around. Those chops propelled Ishii into the lead between the two, but Robinson was continuously defiant. He stood his ground and took all the punishment that Ishii had to offer. The two then traded headbutts over and over, before starting up again with the strikes. Again Robinson came out on top, following up with a Full Nelson bomb for a near fall. Robinson tried to continue the pressure with a rana off the top, but Ishii refused to fall and delivered a knee drop off the top and a saito suplex for a near fall. Ishii then gave his signature chop and strike combination in the corner for a while, before Robinson fought his way out and they traded brutal chops. Robinson was getting more and more worn down as they continued these contests. Each one was shorter than the last, and Robinson started to fade a bit. He fought back into the match using a throat chop right out of Ishii’s book. Robinson then gave Ishii a superplex, which Ishii stood right up after. Ishii then hit a powerslam, but Robinson stood right up as well. They continued to no sell each other’s huge power moves until they both just collapsed together. Neither man could even stand after absorbing that much punishment. The two then started to trade huge blows once again in the middle of the ring, this time Ishii faltered, allowing Robinson to hit Juice Box for a near fall. The tow then jockeyed for position a bit, both men wanted their finish. Ishii countered the Pulp Friction with a ripcord lariat, but Robinson didn’t even move. He gave him a nasty headbutt, a huge lariat off his own, and then a powerbomb for a near fall. He went for Pump Friction again, but Ishii still slipped out, so Robinson kept up the pressure. He didn’t stay down for anything, he just refused to lose this match. Ishii fought back into things with his unreal strength, but Juice then reversed the Vertical Drop Brainbuster into a jackhammer, but when he went for a Pulp Friction, Ishii countered with a tiger suplex. Ishii then hit a vertical drop brainbuster for the win. Ishii: 6, Robinson: 6

Grade: A. I never figured Juice for much of a brawler, but his matches these past few months have been changing my opinion on that. His brawling ability is crazy, and I thought if he won this match then he would be pushed into the upper midcard. But he lost, although he looked incredible in defeat. They destroyed each other with everything that they had, and those striking contests seemed like they could go either way every time that they started to hit each other. Juice showed a hell of a lot of heart in this match, and that counts for something. He says that his attitude has changed, and that sure as hell showed here. Great match, match of the night.

Jeff Cobb vs. Taichi in Block B: In Taichi’s corner was Miho Abe, and also Yoshinobu Kanemaru. These two have a bit of history from earlier this year. They feuded over the NEVER Openweight Championship in may, with Taichi taking the belt from Cobb. He has since lost the belt, but the wound is fresh in Cobb’s mind. The two started with a handshake, which shockingly enough ended up being a normal handshake, no dirty tricks from Taichi were involved. Taichi then asked Cobb to shake Abe’s hand, but when Cobb went to do it, Taichi attacked. The two then started to brawl on the outside, and when Cobb went to give Taichi a lariat, he pushed Abe in his path and then hit him in the face with the mic stand. Taichi used anything that he could as a weapon as the attack on the outside continued, but Cobb made it back in the ring. Taichi continued the disrespect, which infuriated Cobb enough to completely lay into him in the corner with a hurricane of strikes. Taichi contested those strikes with his precise kicks to the body and the head. Taichi then tried for Black Mephisto, but Cobb countered into a series of gutwrench suplexes and even a piledriver. Any time that it looked like Cobb had things in his control, Taichi would wipe him out with a hard kick. In the finish, Cobb went for a superkick, but Taichi pushed the ref in his way. Cobb pushed the ref away, and then narrowly avoided a low blow by starching Taichi in the face. He followed up with a headbutt and then Tour of the Islands for a win. Cobb: 4, Taichi: 4.

Grade: B-. Fine match, but there was a lot of downtime here. They didn’t feel like there was a lot of urgency, and that definitely affected things. They still had a nice match with some hard hits, but they don’t really have the chemistry for anything great.

Jay White vs. Shingo Takagi in Block B: Gedo was in White’s corner for this match, and he would definitely be a factor. Also, Takagi had an injured knee coming into this match due to his recent confrontation with Jon Moxley. White rolled out of the ring right as the match started, and while it looked like Takagi wasn’t going to take the bate, he eventually did and ate some offense for it. Takagi then took control right back as they got in the ring with some of his great looking power moves. Takagi was about to hit a death valley driver on the apron, but Gedo grabbed his leg and stopped him. That distraction allowed White to get some hits in and leave Takagi laying on the outside. White worked over the back a lot as they kept up the fighting. He threw Takagi all around ringside and into any surface that he could hit. They got back in the ring, and they started a chopping contest. The second that they started to hit each other, White lost control, as Takagi was a far better striker than he. White mostly fought from behind and used his dirty tricks to score him some hits here and there. White constantly baited Takagi into parts of the ring that he wanted, The two then started to trade huge moves, from slaps to lariats to suplexes. At one point, after trading Saito suplexes, White hit a combination of a flatliner, a german suplex and a Kiwi Crusher for a near fall. The two then traded hard forearms in the middle of the ring, and white could not stand up to the strength of Takagi. Takagi brought him back up to his feet, when White gave him a weak slap, only to be destroyed by a Pumping Bomber. Takagi went for another, so white fell to the ground to avoid it, only for Takagi to hit a vicious wheelbarrow german suplex for a near fall. The two then battled for their respective finishers, and when Takagi went for another Pumping Bomber, Gedo tripped him up. So instead, Takagi drilled White with a lariat in the corner, a buckle bomb and a pair of pumping bombers for a near fall. Takagi went for last of the dragons, but white grabbed the ref. Gedo tried to run in, but Takagi took him out with a straight left. White then tried to hit a Bladerunner, but Takagi just punched him until he dropped it, and then hit Made in Japan for a near fall. The tow then continued to fight for position, and Takagi only went down after being wrecked by a pair of sleeper suplexes. He then hit Bladerunner and won. White: 4, Takagi: 4.

Grade: A-. Another great match that had actually no leg work, which was interesting. I thought the knee injury would come into play more, but they still had a great match. Full of hard hits and tricky plays, White had to outsmart Takagi to get this win. It was full of dishonesty and cheating, although Gedo was never the exact cause of the problems for Takagi. Takagi dealt with him well, but he just couldn’t get it done against White. White hit his moves with precision, never wasting his strength and holding out to the end. White now has two in a row, and he needs six to make it to the finals. I like this story, gives us more reason to hate him.

Jon Moxely vs. Tetsuya Naito in Block B: Another Champion vs. Champion main event in the B block. Naito took his time removing his ring attire, and it was actually making Moxley go insane waiting for him. He just stood there swearing at Naito as he took a comically long time to remove everything, only to throw his pants at Moxley at the last second. Despite Moxley being the block leader, Natio had no respect for him. Naito took his time stalling things out, staying on the outside for a while, and taunting Moxley. Moxley tried to keep calm, but his temper would flare up. That is when Naito would strike. It got to the point where Moxley was so frustrated that he pulled him into the crowd and beat him with just about anything he could find. He brought him back to the ring by blasting him through the barricade, but then threw him clean into the crowd and even took some fans out in the process. They probably were out of the ring for four or five minutes before finally starting a countout. When they finally got back into the ring, Moxley started to work over the arm, but Naito fought out of his several attempts at armbars. They fought into the corner, both men spitting in each other’s face. Naito constantly tried to fight back with his vicious strikes, but Moxley hit him right back and used his strength advantage to slam him down over and over again. Then Moxley trapped Naito’s ankle in a chair, but Red Shoes disarmed him as he tried to break it. Naito then removed the chair from his ankle and kicked it right into Moxley’s face. From there, Naito stole a chair from a fan, DDT’d Moxley onto it, and then gave Moxley a huge running dropkick down the ramp as he sat in that same chair. As the two battled back into the ring, Moxley took control and battered Naito in the corner, before delivering a butterfly superplex for a near fall. The two proceeded to have a striking contest in the middle of the ring, clocking each other over and over again, until Naito fell at Moxley’s feet. Naito desperately tried to pick up the face with a flying forearm and a kinda botched super rana, but he was met with a stiff lariat when he went for Destino. The two then exchanged both hard strikes and bites in the middle of the ring, which allowed Naito to hit a running Destino, but Moxley still kicked out! He tried for another, but Moxley countered into a short Death Rider, but the Naito kicked out! Moxley then hit the full death rider for the win. Moxley: 10, Naito: 4.

Grade: A-. A great main event to close things out. They were street brawlers that wanted nothing more than to destroy each other. They got down and dirty with the strikes and the biting. They brawled all around the crowd, they used plenty of weapons and there was plenty of carnage to go around. Moxley is still undefeated, and now that he has beaten another one of the biggest names in his block, I am starting to think that he is going to win the block. Naito was my original pick, but after this it is tough to see it. A great match between these two, and hope that some of these losses translate into title matches for those who have beaten Naito.

Overall Grade: B

Pros: Robinson vs. Ishii; Takagi vs. White; moxley vs. Naito

Cons: goto vs. yano

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