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“Cyclonus!”
Cyclonus turned around to a blue and white blur hurtling towards his face. He raised his arms just barely in time to catch it with a grunt, but the force of the impact still sent him stumbling back a few steps. He steadied himself and looked down at what—or rather, who—he had in his arms. A fond smile broke out across his face.
“Good morning, Tailga—”
Two small white hands caught him by the sides of his face. It was not this that surprised Cyclonus into silence, but the kiss that quickly followed that did. Stunned, he could only concentrate on not dropping Tailgate as he pressed his facemask closer and closer against Cyclonus’ lips before pulling away with an exaggerated Mwah!
“Hi,” Tailgate said. A grin squinted the light of his visor into a thin blue line.
“If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked. You did not have to tackle me.” It was meant to be sterner, but the joy crackling through his field somewhat skewed the effect.
“Mm, yeah, I could... but it’s more fun to do this.” Tailgate kissed him again, and this time, Cyclonus could gladly return it. He smiled against Tailgate’s faceplate, before moving to pepper more kisses across the top of his helm until he began to squirm. “Not that I don’t love this, but I gotta go now, ‘cause I’m gonna be late to my shift in a minute, and I don’t want Magnus to lock up my board again.”
Cyclonus obliged and knelt, but did not release him until he drew him in for a brief, tight hug. Tailgate happily wrapped his arms around his neck, his field bubbling with giddy joy. Cyclonus allowed his own field’s quieter but no less intense contentment to purr alongside Tailgate’s before he pulled it back in. At the same time, he gently pushed Tailgate away. “Go on, then. I’d hate to see you pouting for another week.”
“You shush.” Tailgate jogged over to where his board crashed after he’d used it as a springboard and flipped it around a couple of times to examine it for damage before hopping back on. “I’ll see you after my shift,” he called, already drifting away, “bye, I love you!”
Cyclonus rolled his fingers in a small, smooth wave as Tailgate zoomed away and around a corner. He waited until the shouting and swearing that traditionally followed Tailgate and his hoverboard faded away before he turned to continue on his journey to the rec room, only to be met with Whirl's glowing eye. He cocked his head knowingly.
“Guess there’re worse ways to start the mornings, huh?” he drawled, but the upward crest of his optic gave away his glee.
Cyclonus brushed the spot on his cheek where Tailgate had held him just seconds ago. He could have sworn it still felt warm to the touch. “Yes,” he said after a moment, “I suppose there are.”