Chapter 7: Washing Something
Hound looked down at the tiny plastic card in Bluestreak's fingers, then looked up at the Praxian's beaming face. "You want to take me to a... a car wash?" he asked faintly.
"Yeah! It's lots of fun, and sort of relaxing. The twins first took me there for detailing a while ago, and I wasn't sure about it at first either, but it was really nice being pampered like that. I mean, it's a little weird at first, since it's something you can sort of do yourself, but they can get into all the seams and crevices that we need the picks and mini brushes for. And all you have to do is sit there and relax, and they actually like doing it. Or they say they do, anyway. They said we're a lot more fun to work on than regular vehicles." Bluestreak paused to take a deep vent, his door wings fluttering behind him in his excitement. "I've been thinking about taking you there for a while, and Sunstreaker finally agreed to let me use his pass. I've been meaning to get my own pass but just haven't gotten around to it." He smiled at Hound, radiating enthusiasm. "If you like it, I'll get my own for sure and we can make this a regular thing!"
Trying to suppress the frown that he could feel quivering on his lips, Hound looked at the card again, then back up at Bluestreak. He could find no suggestion in Bluestreak's expression that this was anything other than him wanting to do something nice for Hound.
Hound knew he wasn't the cleanest Autobot. After all, it came with the territory... Literally. Hound was sent to scout in very rough terrain where the other, sportier vehicles would have trouble driving. There was a reason he and Trailbreaker had been given quarters together, since the amount of dust and mud they tracked in after a trip would have annoyed other mechs. And even when he hit the wash rack right after returning, he mostly just made sure to clean himself up enough so that he wouldn't leave a trail behind him, or dirty up the chairs and couches in the rec room. After all, he would likely just be getting muddy all over again the next shift, so why spend hours working all the little specs of dirt out from under his plating?
It had become a bit of a joke, one that Hound bore with as much good nature as he could muster. Some things happened so frequently they had stopped bothering him, like someone asking if he'd found any good mud puddles lately, or making a show of brushing off a chair after Hound got up from it. But sometimes the reactions sunk their barbs into him, like the looks of feigned surprise when he was seen stepping out of the wash rack, or the subtle steps backwards when he walked past someone before rinsing off the mud.
He was a dirty mech. That was his reputation, and he'd come to accept it as part of how he was seen. But the suggestion that Bluestreak might also see him that way cut straight to his spark.
A little part of him thought that Bluestreak deserved more than a mech who was always filthy.
The pass in Bluestreak's hand could mean that the adorable Praxian thought he was dirty, and wanted to clean him up before spending any more time with him, or before getting more intimate with him.
Or... Maybe...
Hound looked into Bluestreak's optics, and could only see a mech who genuinely liked him for who he was, and just wanted to do something special with him.
With a tiny smile, Hound said, "That does sound like fun, Blue. When did you want to go?"
Bluestreak bounced on his pedes and started talking.
"I made the reservation for 1500 local. Their detailing department gets really busy in the morning, but if you go in the afternoon they can spend more time on you. That's what Sunstreaker said, anyway. He also said to ask for James and Mateo, so that's what I did. I had James last time, and he was great! He's super friendly. He's going to work on you. Anyway, here we are!"
Hound had let Bluestreak talk away as they drove to the car wash. He was still not really sure what to expect, and had spent extra time this morning in the wash rack just so the humans didn't think he was trying to take advantage of them. Or was that a thing he should even worry about? It was a car wash after all; surely they got really dirty cars sometimes.
Didn't they?
He had no idea. Hound knew it was probably silly to worry about it, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from ricocheting around in his processor.
Bluestreak followed a driveway around the back of the car wash to a garage door. A sign over the door read "Appointments" in English. He beeped his horn twice, and after a moment the door opened.
Hound pulled into the building behind Bluestreak, where a human directed them to wash bays that were side by side. "Hi, Bluestreak," said one of the humans, flipping a towel over his shoulder. "It's been a while!"
"I know! I'm sorry. We've been so busy with – well, Autobot stuff. I can't talk a lot about it. But ever since Sunstreaker brought me here I've been wanting to come back. You did such a great job last time. Oh! And this is Hound. Hound, this is James!" Bluestreak rocked on his tires slightly.
The human walked up to Hound and looked him over carefully. "Nice to meet you, Hound. We don't get many Jeeps in for detailing, but I'll make sure we do a good job on you." He walked around Hound and asked, "Do you have a top? And if not, do you mind water on your interior?" He peered into the passenger area of Hound's alt mode, scanning the dashboard and console.
"No top. Water inside is fine," Hound said abruptly. At a worried ping from Bluestreak, he added, "Sorry. I've never been... detailed? ... before, so I don't know what to expect. I'm a little nervous." He struggled not to settle lower on his suspension in embarrassment.
James smiled. "There's nothing to worry about, Hound. I'll explain what we're doing, and if you have any questions, just ask. Before I start, are there any sensitive parts I should watch out for? I know those two Lamborghinis are a little touchy about their spoilers, for example, and Bluestreak here told us to be gentle with his headlights."
Oh, really? His headlights? Hound filed that tidbit of information away for later use. "No, nothing comes to mind. I'm pretty rugged," he said.
"I can see that," James said cheerfully, rapping his knuckles lightly on Hound's hood. "All right, then, I'm going to start you off with a nice sudsy wash. Would you prefer bubble gum or orange scented soap?"
Hound could tell that it was starting to get dark outside by the time James was finishing up, but he didn't care. He felt so relaxed that he had to struggle a few times to not fall into recharge.
"That should do it," James said, turning off the polisher and standing back to admire his work. "You sure had a lot of grit under your panels, but I think I got most of it out. And your finish looks spectacular."
There was a mirror set up at the end of the wash bay (which had apparently been requested by Tracks), and Hound looked himself over in amazement. "If I didn't know better, I would have thought you repainted me," he said.
James leaned against the wall, admiring his work. "I went with a matte polish at the end, since you didn't seem to have the same kind of finish that most of the other Autobots have. Probably for some of that rough driving you were telling me about." He turned when he heard the purr of another engine. "Looks like Mateo's done with Bluestreak, too."
Hound could not help running his sensors over Bluestreak as he backed out of his wash bay. The Datsun practically gleamed in the lights of the bay. "Wow, you look fantastic, Hound!" Bluestreak said, rolling to a stop next to the Jeep.
"You... look really good, too, Blue," Hound said, still taking in the shine of Bluestreak's finish. His sensors kept drifting back to Bluestreak as the Praxian settled the bill and they left the car wash. Even the glow of Bluestreak's tail lights seemed brighter as they cruised towards the Ark, careful to avoid kicking up dust on the road leading to the ship.
After several minutes of listening to Bluestreak's chatter and watching his rear end weave back and forth in front of him, Hound slowed down and said, "Blue… Let's walk the rest of the way, ok?" He stopped and transformed into root mode.
Bluestreak rolled to a stop and transformed as well, his helm tilted and his door wings canted slightly downwards. "Sure, we can walk from here," Bluestreak said. He looked down the road, where the Ark's lights were clearly visible, and then back at Hound. "I guess we're not in any hurry, right?" he asked with a smile.
"No, we're not." Hound stepped closer to Bluestreak and took his hand. "I just wanted to thank you for taking me to the car wash today." He glanced up at the stars, and then back at Bluestreak's smiling face. "I really had no idea what to expect. That wasn't anything that I would have done on my own, that's for sure," he said with a laugh. "But it was really relaxing, just like you said. And I think the last time my finish looked this good, we were back on Cybertron."
Bluestreak's smile widened slightly. "You do look really nice," he said. "And I'm glad you had a good time. I did too! It's fun doing new things with someone who's never gotten to try them out."
"I have to admit I've been staring at your aft the whole drive here," Hound said, smiling at Bluestreak's sudden wide-opticked look. "I couldn't help it. But... I don't think it had anything to do with the wash it just got." He ran his fingers gently down Bluestreak's face. "I'm going to kiss you now. If that's ok," he said.
Hound waited for Bluestreak to jerk his helm in a nod, then leaned in to kiss the Praxian.
To his happy surprise, Bluestreak was an amazing kisser. The mech certainly had some hidden talents.
A half mile away, at the entrance of the Ark, Sunstreaker frowned into the darkness. "Slag. There goes my ten dollars."
"What?" Sideswipe glanced at his brother, then peered out at the dimly-lit landscape. After a moment, he laughed. "Well, I was out months ago. How far off were you?"
Glowering, Sunstreaker said, "Three weeks. They both seemed totally oblivious."
Peering at the two mechs in the distance, Sideswipe said, "Well, it looks like they figured it out. I'll comm Smokescreen and let him know."
Sunstreaker shifted his grip on his rifle and continued watching the two mechs standing together in the darkness. Finally a smile flitted across his face. "Slag, Blue, let the mech come up for some air."
Sideswipe chuckled. "Still the same old Blue," he said. He tipped his helm towards his brother and added, "Smokescreen said it looks like Jazz won this one."
With a huff, Sunstreaker said, "Figures. He always wins these pools for some reason."
