The guiltiness that started [o, 100th post, visiting]

[OCTANE.]

Oh, his head's running through so many names to call him and jokes to say. The bird coming back with a single paw print was vague enough answer that he was coming.
Octane can feel his fur bristle and raise like goose flesh at the thought of Caustic, the intensity of his gaze baring lasers. The scientist could see through him, past his skin and down to his bones. That's what the daredevil so desires- Caustic is the pinnacle of fun and danger.
Obviously, he's in fucking pain. Pain was good at one point, it got him attention from his fans and lab partner alike. He didn't suffer from it, either, which only sweetened the deal. Agony shooting through his veins was only seconds from being healed away, or a sweet kiss of death that put him in a new body, back to where he was.
He wants to scream at Caustic. Get mad at him, lunge at him and tear into dusty brown fur. The wolf should have been here sooner, faster, didn't he care? He didn't need the scientist to come over and kiss his wounds better. No, Octane needed him to get his fucking ass here and... be here. He does not need Caustic for the comforting feeling of being wrapped in his arms, he needs the wolf's pupils to blow at the sight of him. Octane was a glutton for attention, and becoming the center of Caustic's universe was the apex of his own desires.
"Oh, you finally came for me? No more cold shoulder?"
He's bandaged in various spots, over his left hip, around the neck, under his belly and in other little spots. Octane can feel the scabs underneath stretch and tug, reopen and bleed in little cracks as he moves, and he doesn't fucking care.
Badgering aside, he stares at the wolf now, ears tilting back at the sight. It's... fucking weird. Octane knows he is a cheetah, acutely aware of how the sand traps in his legs and his claws dig into the worn wood of the railroad. He knows, the wolf before him is Caustic. The gas was unmistakable, the hard and intense gaze of a predisposed mad scientist, relishing in their creation, was him.
It's not Caustic's face, and it's not his body. He can imagine it, though, the scientist in his casual wear of a wool sweater and slacks, running fingers through his beard in thought.
Would he see that again? He has to get used to it. At least, until they escape.
His legs knock against the wood, as he sees Michael and Trevor. Michael knew Caustic, Trevor knew Michael, and Octane knew all three. What a gaggle of lads here. "No, he's not joining. I can only tolerate him so long," he punctuates the statement with a round of chirps, moving past the two. He knows that a lie, it was always the other way. Octane was emotionally and mentally exhausting to be around for too long. Killing him was way easier.
He meets the wolf's gaze now, ears perking back up as he notices Caustic's pupils bloom and the wolf's tail ease side to side. Green eyes are running over the cheetah as Octane moves. His calculating over the best way to be a nuisance and get Caustic to throw him off the train tracks.
He looks tired, and exhausted. Okay, maybe not so harsh... No barreling into him, this time. He elects to move to the wolf's left side, leaning on the scientist's shoulder to look at the both of them.
"This is Caustic, we're Lab Partners!" he answers before the scientist can, smirking and running his tongue over his teeth. "Don't drop the Doctor from his name though, unless you're me. He hates that."
Octane can feel green eyes ripping his skin off. 


// just need to read like the last two paragraphs GDHJSA

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