.
Ficlet Name
Cold Confession
Summary
Tailgate is freezing and Cyclonus is concerned.
Pairing
Cyclonus & Tailgate.
Warnings
Pure fluff. Reviewer request granted. 100% non-smutty, sorry!
1,727 Words
It had been cycles and cycles since Cyclonus had been struck by Graverobber's Disease, and subsequently cured. Very little was spoken of the incident, except a brief explanation of how it had happened following a quiet, tentative prompting from Tailgate. The appreciative look he had given him that night hadn't dulled, though, and Tailgate was enamoured with it. Instead of avoiding Cyclonus's fierce, strong gaze that silently demanded obedience, he sought after it actively. Whenever Tailgate felt hopeless, he would catch Cyclonus's optics in Swerve's bar and he could smile inside again. If Tailgate felt lonely or unappreciated, a passing glance from Cyclonus in the washracks made his spark soar once more. And even now, trudging back to their shared habsuite, armor plating still clattering with the freezing cold he had just experienced, he knew all he needed to see was Cyclonus.
He had been dragged along to the frozen, snow covered moon below the Lost Light on another stupid, pointless expedition to find the Knights in some god-forsaken, inhospitable wasteland. It felt like Rodimus chose these places on purpose just to stuff little Tailgate into another snow bank, or down another rocky cliff. Yeah Rodimus, maybe the Knights are hiding in this microscopic hole in the ground filled with an unidentifiable, putrid slime. Yeah, maybe they're even beyond this infinitesimal, ice-covered, drafty cave entrance, having a tea party or something. He had no idea what the planets were like that he wasn't included on, but he imagined them as lush, tropical oasises, where there were no miniscule holes to stuff minibots through. Every planet in the solar system could not possibly be as bad as the ones he was taken on, so it must just be that those were all he saw. He felt like his knees might give out soon, so he quickened his pace to their habsuite. He had an old heated covering he planned on wrapping himself in when he got 'home'. The loud clatter from his plating was starting to become seriously irksome.
Finally he arrived at his destination and keyed the door open, and immediately the warmth from the habsuite flooded over his systems. Cyclonus was a flier, and his jet engines ran much hotter than a small ground engine like his, so when he was locked alone in the habsuite for any length of time he had a tendency to fill the room with the loveliest warmth. Tailgate hadn't noticed he'd collapsed in the doorway until he felt his roommate's hands lifting him off the floor. The door automatically clicked shut pretty fast, but it didn't even have time to start closing before Cyclonus had Tailgate wrapped in that heated covering he had mentioned earlier. It was nice, but not nearly as comforting as Cyclonus's plating had been. He'd expected his roommate to contact Ratchet, or Ambulon, or literally any medical officer whatsoever, considering that he had just collapsed, or just leave him on the berth to shiver and naturally come around, but he did something entirely unexpected instead.
Cyclonus lifted Tailgate from the berth, sat with his back against the wall comfortably, and held Tailgate tightly to his chest. Tailgate's spark was somersaulting in it's chamber. He felt like perhaps he hadn't just collapsed but completely offlined and this was actually just a lovely dream he was having. Cyclonus was running his own engine hot and enveloping Tailgate in the heat. He was clearly not in any real danger or Ratchet would have admitted him into the medbay immediately; Cyclonus knew this. He knew the medical team examined everyone coming off a foreign planet, or moon, or dusty space rock the nanosecond they set pede back on the Lost Light. So that must mean Cyclonus was holding him voluntarily, with Tailgate's comfort in mind, warming him through a genuine act of care. He might just offline now if he didn't want to live and breathe and cherish every fraction of this moment.
The warmth felt amazing. Tailgate hadn't felt so nice in eons. It was no secret to anyone he admired his roommate dearly, and a part of him wished they didn't, but everyone also knew he adored Cyclonus. He had forgotten entirely about the cold shiver still lingering on his plating like icy needles - all his thoughts were encompassed by the feeling of strong arms clung to his plating in a warm embrace. Once he had thawed out and his plating stopped it's relentless noise, and his vocaliser was capable of use again, he glanced up into Cyclonus's optics. And for once, it was Cyclonus who did not have the courage to stay his gaze. He had looked away. Cyclonus had looked away - but Tailgate had seen plenty. He saw the concern in his roommate's optics, his worry, with a tinge of irrational fear. But that wasn't all he saw, that wasn't all that had stunned him to his very core. Tailgate saw love in that short glimpse. He had never seen them in anyone's optics ever before, but he was certain he saw it now. In Cyclonus's optics. Oh, he could just leak.
"C-Cyclonus?"
Tailgate felt emboldened by his roommate having looked away. Unwilling to meet his gaze again, Cyclonus blankly stared through what little he could see out their window from the angle, and took several moments to formulate a reply. "What is it, Tailgate?"
"I want you to say it."
The little minibot felt the arms around him and the very support beneath him stiffen, gradually more over time, and then relax fractionally. "Say what, exactly?"
"You know what."
He couldn't help but feel a little giddy. This was the strangest of circumstances, and he was going to get the absolute most out of them.
"Don't be ridiculous, how could I possibly have any idea what you are talking about when you have not begun to tell me?"
"Cyclonus, you know exactly what I want you to say, and I know you do. Please? It would make me feel a lot better?"
"You say that as if it mattered very much. Besides, once again, how am I supposed to know what you want me to tell you unless you tell me first?"
Wow, he turned that around really fast. Tailgate should have expected his momentary upper hand not to last, but it lasted even shorter than he had expected. Cyclonus finally met his gaze once more, and his spark was hammering in it's casing. Cyclonus's optics had amusement in them now, something he was unused to seeing, but he would risk a lot to see more of.
He began to panic. What if Cyclonus wasn't playing dumb, but really didn't know what Tailgate meant? What if he thought he saw love in his desperation for his roommate to like him? But what if it really was love, and throwing away this chance by lying or joking would throw away any chance of ever hearing the one thing Tailgate wished most to hear in Cyclonus's beautiful, resonating voice? Only one of those trains of thought could ever lead him anywhere good, and he just had to take this chance. He just had to. Before his fear got the best of him.
"T-...tell me you love me."
Cyclonus didn't look shocked, appalled, resentful, nauseated, or any of the looks Tailgate expected him to have. He still looked amused, if a little apprehensive, and he relaxed again, and shifted his arm tighter around his little friend.
"Is that really what you want? Think about it." Tailgate was about to immediately agree, but he was interrupted. "Really, truly think about it first. And then ask me again if you have made a decision."
Tailgate looked down and focused on the feeling of warmth around him. The feeling of safety, and rare compassion. He focused on the feeling of wonder when his roommate sang, and the happiness he felt during their lessons. On the relief he felt when he walked into their hab suite after a rough shift of duties and saw his friend peacefully stargazing. But most of all he focused on how the future might be, after this night, if he asked once more. He thought, just for a fraction of a moment, about parting ways and separating from their habsuite, and his spark seized with pain.
"Please tell me you love me."
This request was decidedly less bold. Quieter, softer. Almost broken and frantic. The reply took a short while, for reasons Tailgate would rather not think about for terribly long, but it was there. Just as soft, and quiet.
"Yes, Tailgate. I do love you. I will not lie or manipulate your feelings. But I wish for you to truly know what you are getting into before-"
A now-warm faceplate connected with his mouth before he was able to finish. His thoughts flickered to the pede slightly digging into his thigh as the minibot stood in his lap to kiss him, but it was washed away in the feeling of his spark lighting once more with a feeling he had not felt in a very, very, very long time. Cyclonus took over the clumsy kiss, turning it into more of an elegant affair. As Tailgate had no lips or real mouth to speak of, he reciprocated as best he could with a tilt of his head there, a push of his faceplate there, but for the most part, Cyclonus dominated the kiss. The growing feeling in his spark took him over, and he gently grasped the back of his smaller partner's helm with a hand and pulled him in. His mouth lacked any real pliability, making his lips harder and his kiss more passionate, and honestly more like him. He peppered Tailgate's faceplate with tasteful little kisses, much like the small bouts of attention he would give him on the average day, little lines of encouragement now turned into fervent affection. But when his lips made full contact again, it was as if he was pulling him from a bomb once more. He poured his very spark into this kiss, and he left little Tailgate dazed beyond coherency.
