Warnings: Eventual DUB-CON (in the sense that an individual is incapable of consenting while intoxicated, but not in any other sense), eventual sticky, poorly written drunkenness, and shameless clichés.

This was originally a kink meme fill for a prompt by the lovely JenKristo. It's the first Transformers fic I've posted in about ten years, so treat me gently. ; )

The setting is deliberately vague, so you could place it anywhere between "Orion Pax" and "Crossfire" within the canon timeline or, my personal favorite, in an AU that diverges from "Crossfire"—whichever you prefer.

Part 1

When Lord Megatron had declared in a voice rich with satisfaction that a celebration was in order—a justified but certainly atypical bout of good humor—Breakdown could never have imagined that the evening would end up like this.

There'd certainly been plenty of cause for celebration. With the day's massive haul, they'd had to expand energon storage to a second bay after the first had been piled high with the glowing cubes. That two of the Autobots would undoubtedly be laid up in medbay for a while was a nice bonus. That one of the two was Bulkhead was, to Breakdown, best of all.

So yes, the party of sorts made sense. The abundance of energon also made sense. What Breakdown couldn't figure out was how he'd gone from engaging a group of vehicons in increasingly inane conversation to leaning against the wall of the rarely used assembly hall, Knock Out clinging to his arm and complaining that no one appreciated all the effort he went through to maintain his finish (in spite of this planet's efforts to sabotage him) except for Breakdown. And Breakdown did appreciate his efforts, right?

"Um, yeah. Of course."

"Mmm. It's lucky I always have you around, then, isn't it? All these drones couldn't tell a chamois from a— From a—" He made a frustrated prompting motion with his other hand, dangerously sloshing the remnants of energon left in the cube he held.

"From a neoprene tarp?"

"Yes. Couldn't tell a chamois from a— a that. Thank you, Breakdown," he said with a small smile of relief. His grip on his partner's arm tightened a bit further, and Breakdown tensed a bit more in turn.

Knock Out knocked back the rest of his cube all at once, then stared at it a moment as if he could make it refill itself through sheer force of will. When this failed to occur, he suddenly detached his arm from his partner's, proclaimed that he would return shortly, and went off in search of another cube, his step a bit unsteady but his head held high.

Breakdown watched him walk away until he made himself avert his eye. He forced himself to relax a bit; having that sleek, red chassis pressed up against him had wound him up tight enough to cut straight through the mild buzz running through his systems.

Sure, he'd consumed his fair share of the energon being passed around, but it took a lot to get a mech his size significantly over-energized. A mech of Knock Out's stature, on the other hand, wouldn't have any trouble racing right through "buzzed" straight into "in danger of emergency intake shut down."

Perhaps because of this, Knock Out had never really seemed one to indulge in excessive energon. In the long time Breakdown had known him, he'd never consumed more than was necessary to keep his systems in prime condition. When he wanted stress relief, he polished himself, he raced, or he took something (often someone) apart.

It seemed the constant tiptoeing around temperamental superiors was getting to him, however. Following Megatron's announcement, the medic had responded with an uncharacteristic bit of enthusiasm at the prospect of unrestricted energon—he'd made an aside to his partner: "I could go for a little soirée, actually. It'll be nice to dispense with higher cerebral functions for a while after three orns straight surrounded by whack-jobs of every sort. No, not you, Breakdown."

Not long after, some vehicons had brought out the energon and set up a heater to liquidize it, somebody had put on some nondescript background music, and Knock Out had proceeded to down two cubes in short succession. He'd eventually wandered back to the blue mech, presumably for lack of better company. Realizing that somebody should probably look after the medic, if only to make sure he didn't break out his saw or drill while intoxicated, Breakdown had excused himself from the cluster of soldiers to devote his full attention to him. He'd been surprised—pleasantly or unpleasantly, he still couldn't decide—when Knock Out had grown increasingly…affectionate towards him as the evening wore on. It had started with short, light touches of the medic's fingers and then become lingering strokes up and down his assistant's torso. Now Breakdown was sure he'd had his aft groped at least twice.

He didn't understand it. Knock Out had never shown an interest in him. He'd looked for any indication (Primus, had he looked), but the ostentatious mech had always seemed to flirt with everyone except him. There'd been the standard show of flamboyance when they'd first met, before Breakdown had come to appreciate the mech beyond the vanity and snark, but even that had dropped off as soon as Knock Out had had an actual chance to interact with him. Back on Cybertron and across several Decepticon outposts, Breakdown had been left waving an unenthusiastic farewell to his partner, more times than he could count, as said partner headed off to get his kicks with some nameless performance model. Knock Out would only pause long enough to offer a quick assurance that he'd see Breakdown in the morning.

Surely, if Knock Out had found him at all appealing, he would have made a move on the mech most readily available to him by now. Breakdown had accepted this. Still, being around the medic was never dull. He assisted in medbay operations when he could, and he watched his partner's back—and admittedly some other parts—in and out of combat. He was content.

But why had Knock Out suddenly deemed him worthy of that kind of attention as soon as the extra charge hit his systems? All Breakdown could figure was that not only had the energon lowered some standards, but Knock Out probably considered him his sole option this particular night. With only drones, the crew the doctor had apparently had enough of, and Breakdown for him to choose from, it did kind of make sense.

Breakdown realized abruptly that this was likely his only chance.

Was he really that pathetic, though, that he'd sink to what amounted to taking advantage of his friend? Admittedly, if he knew Knock Out as well as he though he did, chances were good that the medic wouldn't really mind come morning, but that still didn't make it okay. Besides, Breakdown was doing fine dealing with the attraction he felt towards his partner—what if an actual interface made everything worse? If it made his day to day communication with the smaller mech awkward enough to affect their working relationship?

Decision made, Breakdown braced himself when Knock Out started heading back toward him with two new cubes in hand.

"Don't think you can leave me the only one drinking," he said as he approached, giving an indicating jerk to the stacked cubes and assuming a challenging smirk. The top cube slid precariously to the side, though it thankfully didn't topple off. Breakdown huffed a short sigh but was quick to relieve his partner of the unstable cube.

When Knock Out sidled up to him, however, the medic overbalanced a bit and leaned into Breakdown too sharply. The larger mech was eventually able to shift his cube to his right hand and supply a steadying grip to Knock Out's shoulder with his left, but not before sloshing a substantial amount of energon over both his hands and arms; Knock Out himself emerged unscathed.

In the doctor's current state, this was apparently hilarious. Leaning against Breakdown's side a bit more steadily this time, he let out a loud, ringing laugh that gradually diminished but continued on until he tried to take another gulp of energon, at which point his intakes faltered, and he coughed a few times instead.

The blue mech considered giving him some pats to the back to help the process along, but he seemed to be doing fine on his own, and it'd just result in more energon spilled everywhere anyway.

Once Knock Out had straightened up with a low sigh, his sights fell back to and lingered on the glowing fuel splattered over Breakdown's closer hand and forearm.

The considering raise of a brow plate and a quick flash of Knock Out's optics were the only warning Breakdown had before the smaller mech was raising the large hand to his face and licking the energon off, glossa working between the digits and teasing the joints.

Breakdown's vents stuttered. Either his willpower was going to give out, or this was going to be a really long night. The blue mech was jolted to action when the medic moved to take one of Breakdown's digits into his mouth.

"No!"

Knock Out paused and stared up at him with an inquisitive noise, Breakdown's fingertip still held between his lips.

He carefully but hastily extracted his hand from the medic's grip. "It's fine! Really, I've got a rag I can use in storage—" After setting his cube down on the floor, he pulled said rag from a compartment in his chest and wiped off as much of the energon as he could, though some still lingered stubbornly and glowed in his joints and seams. He'd have to wait until he got to the washracks before he could rinse it out.

Once he had his partner's attention again, Knock Out made a show of licking his lips. Breakdown found this unsurprising, as the medic made a show of everything. Unfortunately, he also found it undeniably enticing.

The red mech just smirked at him. "Whazza matter, Breakdown? You seem kinda flustered."

Breakdown narrowed his optic down at his counterpart, steeling himself into a temporary semblance of calm. "That's the last cube you're getting."

Knock Out's expression quickly morphed from smug to affronted to something that disturbingly resembled a pout.

The blue mech blinked and had to look away. It was too strange.

As he looked around for something to distract him, his gaze fell upon Lord Megatron gesturing animatedly to Soundwave at the front of the room. Breakdown had made a point of avoiding any officers tonight, Knock Out excluded, since he had no desire to see what they were like when over-energized. Even on a normal day, he really preferred the company of the grunts to that of the others; they tended to be less, well, crazy. And as much as he respected their leader, he'd heard rumors that the warlord tended to become both nostalgic and more excitable when inebriated. The blue mech didn't doubt that Soundwave was keeping an eye on Megatron in much the same way Breakdown was Knock Out—except Soundwave probably didn't have Megatron pawing at him.

When Breakdown turned back to his partner, Knock Out had begun sipping sullenly at his cube, and with him at least temporarily occupied, the blue mech embraced the momentary peace and retrieved his own from the floor. He leaned back against the wall and took a few slow swigs.

The somewhat amiable silence stretched between them for a breem.

"This is the first time we've been off duty at the same time since we started on this ship, y'know," the medic remarked.

Not counting designated recharge time and the unapproved joyrides Knock Out had taken, Breakdown supposed it was. Their interaction was always when they were on medbay duty, on patrol, or on a mission. "It is, isn't it? Hopefully it's not a one-off thing."

"Hopefully." The medic raised his cube in Breakdown's direction.

Breakdown humored him with a smile and reciprocated the gesture, and they both drank. The blue mech went ahead and finished off the rest of his cube while he was at it.

It was about that time when the medic suddenly paused in between gulps and made a face. Breakdown tilted his head in question, but Knock Out just pressed on and went to take another swallow. He quickly seized up with an odd choking sound, however, and began spluttering and heaving shallowly until the energon of that last gulp was running down his chin.

Breakdown offered him the faintly glowing, energon-stained rag from before. "That alert you ignored? Probably trying to tell you your tanks are maxed." It was official: the doctor was done drinking for the evening—though it'd probably take a short while for the last of what he drank to kick in.

Cybertronians were hardy beings, and their systems were capable of handling excess energon intake when the fuel was readily available. They couldn't do so without detriment, though. Surplus charge could have dangerous effects on the more delicate systems, so as the charge built, they were gradually shut down for their own protection, to be onlined again when the energy levels dropped a bit—the first to be affected was the sub-section of the processor responsible for higher thought processes and fine motor control. There were limits to both tank capacity and the amount of systems one could practically shut down, however, so whichever one a mech encountered first triggered an automatic valve shut off in the fuel intake line.

The medic snatched the cloth away and started agitatedly scrubbing at his chin and chest. "But I'm running fine," he whined.

Sure he was. "Maybe, but there's only so much energon you can fit in your body. You know that."

The medic made an undignified snorting noise, letting the cleaning rag fall carelessly to the floor when he was done with it. "Guess so. You take this, then." He moved to push his half-full cube into Breakdown's unoccupied hand.

"Uh, I'm good. Thanks anyway." He had no desire to try and get blitzed, after all—especially now—so he'd really had enough for the evening.

"Well, I don't want it in front of me. I can't drink it."

Knock Out gave a scrutinizing check of their surroundings and waved at an eradicon that had wandered nearby. "Hey, you! You there."

The drone, startled, looked around himself to see who else the medic could be addressing. When he found no one, he came a bit closer and shot a questioning look at Breakdown, who was still standing beside his counterpart.

The blue mech recognized the eradicon from a dent in his shoulder as one he sometimes spoke to during patrol duty. He gave an awkward little wave.

"Go dispose of these," Knock Out continued to the drone, grabbing at Breakdown's empty cube and holding them both out insistently. The eradicon approached with some hesitation, took them, and then proceeded to make himself scarce at the medic's shooing motion.

Knock Out, clearly preemptively bored at the prospect of no more drinking, cast his eyes around the hall in search of something else to do or talk about. He made an interested hum when he caught sight of a few drones in the center of the room who were moving to the beat of the unremarkable music with surprising skill. With a sinking feeling, Breakdown watched Knock Out's face light up. "That'd be fun."

"I don't know about that…" Breakdown would be the first to admit that he wasn't the most coordinated mech on the best of days. It wasn't enough to prevent him from pounding Autobots into scrap, of course, but it was enough to make him less than confident in his dancing abilities.

"Come on." The medic tugged hard on his assistant's arm in attempt to pull him away from the wall, but the larger mech would not be moved.

"I really don't think it's a good idea."

"What are you afraid of?" the red mech goaded.

Knock Out taking the opportunity to grope him some more? The two of them drawing attention to themselves? The medic throwing a fit when he dented himself from falling on his aft? Where to start…

"Be that way, then. I'll dance by myself." The red mech let go with a huff and took off toward the middle of the hall. After only a moment, Breakdown exasperatedly scrambled after him. He'd clearly had good reason for doing so, too, as Knock Out managed all of four steps before he stumbled. The larger mech managed to catch him around the waist and gently handled him back to their stretch of wall. "Whoops," the medic mumbled with a short snigger.

His partner sighed. "Why don't we sit down?"

Knock Out glanced lazily around, apparently looking for a chair or bench or something, and looked back up at Breakdown quizzically when he failed to spot any. "Where, on the floor?"

"Yes?" The Nemesis's assembly hall hadn't exactly been designed with relaxation or socialization in mind.

Knock Out seemed to consider it for a nanoklick. "Okay."

Breakdown didn't realize his mistake until after he'd helped his partner seat himself without falling on his face and they'd both gotten resettled, Knock Out nestled disconcertingly close. The medic resumed his earlier grip on the larger mech's arm, but this time he tugged it toward himself and kept tugging until Breakdown's hand rested on the plating above his knee joint.

The blue mech immediately tried to gently jerk his hand away, his remaining eye comically wide, but Knock Out's hold didn't relent. The medic laughed lightly. "C'mon, Breakdown. Loosen up." And with that, he pulled the hand further up his thigh.

Breakdown's fingers clenched against the smooth plating. His fans had kicked up several notches in an attempt to cool his rapidly heating frame. His optic swept across the room to check for any sign that others were watching them, but the workers and warriors seemed thoroughly involved in their own activities at this point. The duo was ignored.

"It's kind of amazing, I guess, that you can still manage to be this devious when you're this overcharged."

Knock Out's thighs came together to further trap the larger mech's hand in place. "Mmm-hmm, that's me for you." He leaned his head against Breakdown's shoulder with a satisfied quirk of his lips. "You love it. Don't lie."

And he did. Which didn't make anything easier.

He really should've been trying harder to get his hand back, but Knock Out seemed content for the time being. If Breakdown clammed up again, his partner would surely just resort to something worse to tease and antagonize him. So there was nothing wrong with leaving his hand where it was for a little while. Nope.

Notes:

Well, there's the first half. I'm trying to finish this thing up before Botcon, so I hope to have the rest posted in a week or two.

If you spot any typos and such that slipped under the radar, feel free to point them out. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! : )