Work Text:
Cyclonus loved Tailgate.
That was clear to him. No need to dance around or try to avoid feelings that were very obviously present. He didn’t state these things, words weren’t one of his strong suits, but Tailgate trusted him and reciprocated his affection so Cyclonus was very sure he knew Cyclonus loved him.
Tonight, they were both lying in the berth, Cyclonus lying on his back and Tailgate curled on his side in the curve of Cyclonus’s arm. Their window’s shutter was open and Tailgate was staring out into the stars. Cyclonus was looking out as well, but his attention was focused on the quiet thrum of both of their sparks. Perhaps he was sentimental, Tailgate always teased him for it, but he still remained grateful he could even hear the sound of Tailgate’s spark working away inside its casing. He took the time to listen to it every chance he could. Too many times Tailgate had almost been torn away from him.
It was almost funny, Cyclonus had spent millions of years without caring much for any other mecha and now he ached at the thought of losing a minibot he had met so recently. Part of him snarled at the weakness, the attachment would surely come and bite him in the metaphorical aft one day, but he would rather have this glaring weakness than lose the companionship Tailgate had so happily and eagerly presented.
That was one of the things that had interested Cyclonus about the other bot. Cyclonus was not a mecha known for his kindness and stellar tact. Tailgate had taken this in stride, brushing off Cyclonus’s bad moods and clumsily directed anger with a smile on his face and the patience of a Prime. Nobody needed to deal with what Tailgate did, Cyclonus wouldn’t have blamed him if he left, but Tailgate not only stayed, he enjoyed being in Cyclonus’s presence and would help him, spend time with him, speak with him, Primus above Tailgate had even entered a relationship with him.
If Tailgate wasn’t a blessing, Cyclonus didn’t know what was.
Tailgate would deny all of this, obviously. Cyclonus would tell him he was grateful for his presence and Tailgate would wave his hands dismissively. “You act like you’re some monster or something I have to deal with! I mean, sometimes you do sound and act like one, sure, but I mean, it’s not like you’re that bad.” Cyclonus was well aware he was ‘that bad’, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same.
Suddenly, he felt fingers probing into the holes in his face. Ah.
“Cyclonuuuuus! Stop thinking so much!” Tailgate was straddling his chest, his visor glowing mischieviously as he poked Cyclonus’s skeletal cheeks. “I can tell you’re getting sad again. We talked about that, didn’t we? No bad thoughts tonight!”
Cyclonus let out a grunt, his own hands reaching up to pull Tailgate’s away from his face. “I wasn’t thinking bad thoughts. I was thinking about you, actually.” Cyclonus chuckled softly at the flustered stuttering that brought out of the minibot and gently kissed the palms of his servos.
Cyclonus loved Tailgate.