#femmecyclonus

[whereyoursparkresides]

Aftercare

A fic inspired by @breakdownsbuttlights‘s Humanformers AU with femme!Cyclonus and sweet butch!Tailgate. Just a silly little ficlet so these two can have some squishy feels.

It was like any other regular late night aboard the Lost Light. Tailgate had stayed up as late as she could with the other members over some drinks, but now she was turning in. Cyclonus had already long retired before her, and Tailgate was looking forward to the company. Perhaps they’d snuggle and Cyclonus would sing and tell her more stories of her history, or perhaps she’d just listen as Tailgate would rattle on about the anecdotes from the others. The possibilities made Tailgate smile widely as she slid open the berth door.

Upon entering the dark room, however, Tailgate paused. Unlike their previous nights, Cyclonus was already in bed. She must’ve really been tired, Tailgate thought. It wasn’t unusual for Cyclonus to occasionally nap to recharge herself during the day, but for now she was in as deep of a slumber as Tailgate had ever seen. Her silhouette was an elegant curve in in the window, moonlight gleaming the brustroke of her shoulders, waist, and hip. 

She was beautiful.

Suspended in this rare, quiet moment, Tailage slowly crept towards the bed as carefully as she could. As she approached the bed,  the faint stream of light swam over Cyclonus, spilling over her hair, her shoulders, the dips of the back. Tailgate followed the river of light to admire the softness of Cyclonus’ skin, the valleys and crevices of her muscles...

 Until she noticed the marks.

They were many, too many to count. They gleaned paler against her skin and criscrossed in various directions. They scratched from her shoulders, down her spine, and the dip of her waist. Some even peeked above the waistband of her pants. Tailgate’s eyebrows furrowed - had they all been from war?

Suddenly Tailgate felt a surge of pity and anger, and her tiny hands balled up into trembling fists. Who had hurt Cyclonus like this? And yes, while Tailgate knew the pride of carrying the scars of survival, her own were nicks compared to Cyclonus’. And as much as Tailgate knew of Cyclonus’ limitless bravery and endurance to pain and suffering...had anyone ever looked after Cyclonus after all that, the way she had her? Had anyone ever picked her up from the field when she was too spent to stand?

Or held her close, silently and gently, the way she had always held Tailgate?

Overcome with the desire to check up on her, Tailgate crawled up onto the bed. She was careful to keep herself light, in case Cyclonus woke up. Cyclonus had always been a light sleeper.

The springs of the mattress creaked quietly beneath her, as Tailgate took a moment to just look at Cyclonus. Even in her sleep, her face was etched with her slight, ever-present frown, but Tailgate knew better. She had seen Cyclonus’ many other expressions, subtle as they were. She knew Cyclonus had one for softness, for fondness, for happiness. She also had one for peace, and right now she was not in peace.

Gently, Tailgate reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. At first it was just the faintest of grazes, an hesitant motion for fear she'd disturb her from her sleep. But there was also a sense of awe to the gesture, like stroking the scales of a sleeping dragon.

Cyclonus shifted a little, but didn't wake up. She seemed to like the touch, so Tailgate lightly deepened her strokes. She circled her thumb in all the nooks she could find, not at all surprised (but also appalled) at the hardness of the knots she found within them. She also made sure to graze her thumb across the grain of the scars, never with them. She never wanted Cyclonus to remember how they were made.

The deepening of her massage eventually stirred Cyclonus awake. Blearily, she lifted her head over her shoulder.

“Tailgate?”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.” But neither did Tailgate stop her gentle caressing.

Cyclonus’ eyes cleared up a bit, but they were still soft with sleep. “No...I'm fine. Is something the matter?”

“Hm? No, nothing's wrong with me.”

There was that faint smile now. “Good.” Her expression then turned puzzled. “But what are you-” Suddenly her eyes rolled upwards and she took a sharp inhale of surprise.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tailgate grinned, but didn't let up her massaging.

“Hmn? No…” Cyclonus shifted a bit to let the knots roll closer to Tailgate's thumb. “Hmn…”

“Here, let me.” Tailgate eagerly took this opportunity to reseat herself in front of the headboard, and readjusted Cyclonus’ head so that she was now resting on her lap. Now aligned with her partner, she placed both hands on Cyclonus’ bare shoulders, and began to knead.

The sound of Cyclonus sighing quietly filled Tailgate with joy, a note so deep and beautiful  and rich.

This was what was supposed to happen to her after every battle. This was right.

“That's ...really good,” Cyclonus murmured.

Tailgate increased her pressure with even more gusto. “Well, these big arms had better be good for something!”

They shared a little chuckle, but when Tailgate looked down, she was surprised to see Cyclonus’ bright gold eyes gazing up at her so clearly, so sincerely.

“You were always good,” said Cyclonus softly. “For everything.”

A blush rose to Tailgate's face, and suddenly she wanted to duck her glowing face to hide her stupidly wide smile. Whenever Cyclonus said things like that, she never knew how to respond... but she loved hearing it anyway. Coming from Cyclonus, those words meant the world to her, more than hearing it from anyone else.

As Cyclonus’ body began to relax into Tailgate's lap, her eyes trailed back up to follow the rest of her partner's frame in the shadows. She had never seen Cyclonus this relaxed before. While she rested,  everything about Cyclonus became even more stunning to look at...how powerful her limbs were, sculpted to the perfect balance of grace, speed and strength. The dusty smoothness of her skin, the dark river of her hair. The lightness of her frame, yet strong and unbending as steel…

Tailgate’s eyes softened in awe.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed honestly, without thinking. The rhythm of her hands became more gentle, more careful, like Cyclonus was a great sculpture she daren’t ruin. “Like...just look at you. I’d... “ There was once a time when Tailgate would’ve dreamed to be like Cyclonus, beautifully streamlined to be a glorious warrior. Instead she just had her garbage chute calves, silly shortness and clunky wide hips that made her bounce when she ran.

“You’d what, Tailgate?” Cyclonus’ voice broke through quietly, and Tailgate startled out of her daydream.

“Oh, nothing,” she quickly said, returning to kneading with more gusto. “You’re just...really handsome, that’s all.”

But then, she felt a hand graze her along those big hips of hers. And she looked down to see Cyclonus gazing up at her again, but with a gentleness in her eyes.

“No need to look at me for that, little one,” she said softly but firmly. Her hand travelled back and forth along her hip and thigh steadily. “You only need to look at yourself.”

Once more, Tailgate’s face lit up in a blush, and unable to help herself, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Cyclonus’ shoulder and chest. Long arms returned the gesture, circling to hook her forearms, so that one was huddled over the other, nesting together.

“Promise me you won’t ever go, right?” Tailgate breathed out, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “That you’ll stay with me, and we’ll have moments like this?”

Cyclonus seemed surprised at the intensity in which Tailgate’s hushed whisper was spoken, but agreed none of the less.

“Of course, little one.”

Tailgate’s grip tightened, her face buried deep into the crook of Cyclonus’ shoulder.

“Every week. Promise me we’ll have a moment like this, every week.”

This time, the hands travelled from her forearms to circle around her back. It was a little awkward because Tailgate hadn’t completely let go, but Cyclonus’ fingers were long, and they rested lightly to reassure her.

“You have my word.”

And then there was a faint turn of Cyclonus’s head, and Tailgate felt a gentle kiss on the side of her face. When she lifted her head a bit, she saw Cyclonus’ eyes close in rest, and Tailgate just knew. Just knew this would be a promise that would be forever kept.

Bubbling with happiness, Tailgate gave her partner one more tight squeeze, and together they remained as they were, in the serenity of the moonlight.