[Transformers] Not My Rival

Little chat ahead: I found this on my old computer and I don't remember a thing about what kind of story I planned to write. Written in July 2018 so it must be during my thesis and brain damage could occur in many ways.

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Rodimus was trying to recall how many kings were left. He was leaning against the card table and frowning at all the remaining cards when the communicator beeped at his wrist. With only one peek, he rolled his optics and smacked his servo on the table, and had the communicator muted.
Drift stared him behind a hand of cards fanning out in front of him. “Mags?”
Rodimus picked up his glass of energon, sipping on the liquid floated with tiny condensing cubes, then chewed on the cubes without holding down a pleased yet unpleasant noise. “Who else? At this hour?” His digits then turned back to hovering above his cards, finally managed to make the decision. “A pair of tens.” He flipped them to the pile of cards at the center of the table as if they were a pair of darts. Then he regretted at the sight of Drift’s triumphant smile.
“A pair of kings!” Drift also darted his cards on top of the pile of card corpses.
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