Kup was old. He knew that. He had been through eons, fought in battles that erupted across Cybertron, took on odd jobs and important jobs, and now he was ready to rest. He padded around the towns, shuffling his pedes and chewing a cy-gar. He would stop femmes and help them over puddles, stop mechs that were annoying and disgracing femmes and give them a taste of his fist, and he would tip his helm in respect to pretty, old femmes who would blush and shuffle a little faster along, glancing back at him. Yes, he was old, respected, and well-known through the whole upper portion of Cybertron, including Iacon, Burning Treads, Vos, and Tyger Pax. He had seen a lot of things, and he had believed himself to be understanding of everything, save one thing: he had not created sparklings.

He didn't know what to do with them. He had friends that had sparklings, and they would deposite their little things in his lap, and he would be clueless, especially when they looked up at him and started wailing. He simply had no use for the squirmy little things every femme seemed to adore and every mech seemed to desire above all else. So he did not have sparklings, and he vowed not to have any. Since he had never been mated, it was easy to not have sparklings.

But one day, as he shuffled around Iacon, watching the refugees from Kaon step off trains and look around the silvery city he called home and shuffle off, the mech watched as one mechling was walking around, clueless. Kup sniffed loudly, and the mechling turned his helm to see him, but Kup was walking away, shaking his helm. Sure, sparklings were all everyone ever wanted, but to some mechs and femmes, they were nothing. Disposable. It made Kup thankful he never had sparklings.

As he walked the streets, he became aware of the little pedsteps of a tiny being shadowing his own. He stopped, and the sound of tiny peds clicking off metal stopped. He chomped his cy-gar thoughtfully, then started walking again. The pedsteps started again, and a frown brought his lips down. He turned, and stared the little mechling down.

It was a red and orange thing with huge blue optics and a splash of yellow on his chest. He was trembling from the effort of carting a large, heavy-looking bag of things...what was he carting around? Armor, perhaps? But whatever it was, it didn't matter to Kup.

"Shoo," he rasped, moving his servo in a dismissive way. "Go along now."

The mechling pouted and moved back a few steps, his helm lowering and his shaky arms dropping the bag. He looked around, and Kup started off again, but the pedsteps continued and he sighed. He stopped again and shooed the sparkling off, but the little mechling didn't move until Kup took a step towards him. The mechling ran back several paces, shielding his helm and crouching down defensively, but Kup didn't raise an arm or even twitch a digit. He nodded and turned around, nibbling the end of his cy-gar and huffing when the pedsteps clicked on behind him. He sighed and stopped once more, but this time the mechling didn't stop right away. He walked right up to the old mech and tipped his helm back, watching him with sad blue optics for a long moment.

Something stirred in Kup's spark chamber as he watched, and he thought for a moment about what would happen to this little mechling. It was getting colder, and soon Iacon would frost over for several months. Old Cybertronians and young ones were most likely to fall ill during this time, and any kind of warmth would be welcome. Kup thought, very briefly, of how this young one would suffer in the allies and how he would have to beg for credits, for blankets, for Energon...while Kup was bundled up all snug and warm in his little home built for two.

But he shook his servos at him. "Bah, get along, child...I don't have time for sparks like you." He nodded once, as if confirming something, then turned around and continued walking, his helm down. He didn't stop until he reached his base, and as he fumbled for his keys, something warm pressed against his leg as a stiff, cold wind rose up. He looked down and there was the mechling, shivering and blue-lipped. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he had been about to say was silenced by a fierce, howling wind. The little sparkling shuffled closer, pressing almost insistently against Kup's leg. The old mech sighed and shrugged a shoulder as he unlocked his base and stepped inside, holding the door open for the little sparkling.

"Just one day, yes?" He frowned at him. The sparkling was tiny, skinny, but surprisingly strong. He tipped his helm as he studied him from helm to pedtip, and with a start, he realized the sparkling was doing the same thing to him. He snorted and walked to a cabinet, opening it to display rows upon rows of different kinds of Energon: solid, liquid, jellied, candied, strips, ropes, canned...he turned back to ask the sparkling his preference when he saw the little thing slowly walk up and tip his helm back before staring at Kup. The mechling took several steps back and cringed, as if expecting a beating, but Kup knelt instead and offered the little thing a rope of the fuel. He smiled as wide as he could. The mechling crept closer, and Kup pressed the rope of Energon into his cold servos.

"While you refuel, we should warm you up, huh?" He shuffled the mechling into a blanket, wrapping him up and slipping mittens over his little servos. He slapped a cap down onto his helm and wrapped a scarf around his neck before sitting him down in front of a fire. He pulled up a chair with a mug of the warmed Energon and he sipped at it, watching his visitor slowly stop shivering and begin eating the rope. He smiled and closed his optics.

There was a rapping of knuckles on his door and Kup got up to answer it. Jazz and Prowl were waiting patiently, ruffled by the wind and shaking in their armor. "Come in, you young fools...come in, come in..."

Jazz slipped inside, dragging his friend in after him. "Sir, if it would be too much to ask, may we-" He had spotted the little mechling and he laughed. "Oh, Kup...he's a little young, don't you think?"

Kup snorted at the comment and he shook a scolding digit at him. "You know I am not interested...at all." But he grinned and wrapped his arm around Jazz's neck. "What'll you and your friend have, eh?"

"Oh, Kup, you spoil us," Jazz said as he twisted out of his friend's reach. "We'll have nothing. You just sit yourself down with your mug and your Energon, and we'll listen to your stories."

Jazz was a social bot, charged to learn about culture, history, and know more stories than any living bot on Cybertron, and to get there, he had to speak with Kup, who was older and wiser. Prowl was an officer, and while he had no business being in Kup's base, he still enjoyed the time spent with his friends during his free time.

Kup rubbed at his chin as he thought. He stamped his cy-gar out in a tray and he set in a chair, leaning back. "Mm..."

Prowl set down beside Jazz, his digits laced and set prettily in front of him. He was an elegant thing that Kup admired and he would often compliment the officer, but compliments scored you nothing with Prowl. He could just nod and wave his servo in a go on kind of way. Jazz was less elegant, more easy-going, and fond of propping his pedes up on Kup's table. He did so even as Kup watched. The old mech had learned that telling Jazz to not do something had the same effect as complimenting Prowl, so he let the mech prop up his pedes, so long as they were clean.

While Kup thought, he gazed around the room, and he spotted the little mechling. He walked to him, prodded him to his pedes, and he pulled out a chair for him. The mechling, once seated, could barely look above the table, so Kup lifted him awkwardly and set a large, old book under him, which made things a little better.

"How about some urban legends?" Kup sat back down, leaning back in his chair as Jazz and Prowl nodded. He told as many as he could remember, all the while watching the mechling, whose optics were dimming and closing as he slumped forward and backward before jerking awake and looking around. But at long last, the tiny thing fell asleep and leaned his helm against the table, sleeping peacefully. Kup stopped midstory and lifted the mechling.

"Time for you to go," he whispered. He waved at the two mechs dismissively. Jazz smiled and stood.

"Kup. I've told you a thousand times that you made a mistake not getting bonded. Now you have proof."

Kup waved them away, once again dismissive, and he walked to his berthroom. After laying down three out of four of his pillows and layering blankets over them, Kup was finally satisfied with the makeshift berth he had constructed, and he set the mechling down on them. He tucked him in and patted his back gently. "Good night," he said softly, and he walked out of the room, sitting down in front of the fire and reading the news on his datapad for a few more hours before he too sought out his berth. He fell asleep easily, but he couldn't say the same thing for the sparkling, who tossed and turned before climbing into the berth with the old mech and nuzzling up to his chest.

Sleeping still, Kup put an arm around the sparkling and secured him close. Both mechs slept easily.