[MTMTE One-Shot: Just one dance]
Following the events of MTMTE Issue #42: 'The frail gaze'
"O-oh, Cyclonus! There you are!"
Tailgate watched the silhouette of the warrior mech as the stars shone in through the glass of their hab suite. Caustic effect drew the slightest of purple glimmer onto the floor and walls, giving the room that heavy presence that he knew Cyclonus secretly loved. Something with presence being the first step in avoiding unneccesary fights, and stuff like that. Tailgate never entirely managed to follow; he couldn't even recall when he wanted to be a Decepticon. It would never have worked out!
"You, uh, you left. The party? I... You didn't like... it?" The small white and blue mech said, his trademark insecurity taking over. The jetfighter did not move, nor make a sound in response.
Great, the 'silent statue' pose.
Tailgate's shoulders drooped a bit and he ambled over to his recharge slab, sitting down with his back to Cyclonus. He wiggled his fingers a bit in anxiety, before a slight unhappy sigh escaped him.
A shift behind him was the response, the sound so subtle, barely noticeable. Tailgate blinked and turned slightly.
"I don't know what you meant back there, what you were on about..." The deep voice that belonged to Cyclonus, hardened in battle and rough Decepticon life, murmured. Tailgate blinked slowly, the traces of what might've been one drink too many slowing down his comprehension to a silent stare.
"I'm sorry." He spoke. Inwardly he cringed at the slow realization that he apologized without knowing what he had done wrong. The slight narrowing of Cyclonus's optics as he looked over his shoulder told him that the jet probably thought something along those lines as well.
"Tailgate, I don't want you to be sorry. Even more, I don't want you to think that you're embarrassing me."
Blue visor widened, "I-I'm not?"
Cyclonus turned and stalked over to him, stepping in besides the two recharge slabs and staring down at the minibot, "I don't even know where you get the idea. It's ridiculous. If I find you embarrassing, you'd know; I'd live in another hab suite."
If Tailgate could smile, he would've. Instead, his visor flared brighter and he lunged forward under the exclamation of a happy chime. Since he had been sitting on the other edge of the berth his spontaneous pounce was abruptly cut short, and the resulting effect was a less-than-graceful slump against one of Cyclonus's samurai-style greaves.
"... Tailgate." A somewhat lament-filled sigh sounded from above him.
"I-I'm sorry... Uhm, you, uh, still don't find me embarrassing, right?"
"Maybe just a tad on the rash and clumsy side." Cyclonus answered absently as he shifted. The click of a button being pressed followed before he resettled his weight.
"Eep?" The tiny worried sound accompanied Tailgate's blue-eyed glance up, meeting Cyclonus's red optics resting in a thoughtfully observing expression. The purple warrior held out an open hand to the minibot as a soft melody started to sound from a music system Tailgate once insisted they needed.
"You asked me for just one dance, Tailgate."