Understood
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Chapter 37
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The two lay on the berth afterwards, Cyclonus spooning around the tiny mech, kissing Tailgate's crown absently in a sleepy haze. It hadn't been anything like their previous sessions. Cyclonus had been maddeningly gentle with Tailgate's recovering frame, his touch so delicate that Tailgate had nearly demanded that the mech go harder on him. When Cyclonus had entered him, he'd done only that: entered him. There had been only filling... no thrusting or grinding and only the slightest of rocking.
Cyclonus' hand now slid indulgently over Tailgate's arm, his claws plucking at the twist of black wires adorned with a single licensing tag. "Such a shame you wear these," he rumbled.
"It's what I do."
"But you weren't framed as a pleasurebot."
"No."
"You're good at mimicking one though." A long arm wrapped tightly around Tailgate's waist. "How did you end up in this profession?"
Tailgate sighed. "By accident."
"Isn't that what they all say?"
"I don't know, but it just sort of happened to me."
"Tell me how. I'm curious now as to how a sweet, honest, trustworthy little thing like you ended up in such a miserable place. I can't believe you left me your credits."
"You gave them back. And it's not that miserable," Tailgate protested.
"You should have seen what I found on that rooftop in Kaon Southlands. That's how Autobots usually look after I'm done with them."
"You don't have to keep reminding me of my mistake."
"I'm just glad you're still alive," Cyclonus purred, pressing his lips once more to Tailgate's helm. "So tell me. How did it happen? Mmm? How did an innocent little minibot go from ...whatever you were doing before... to a refugee streetwalker in the Decepticon capital?"
Tailgate sighed again. "My story? Are you sure?"
"It would be nice to know."
Another sigh. "All right." His position shifted a little and he settled against his keeper's arm.
"Swerve and I were studying at the academy in Pescus Hex. I'd only been there a quarter vorn and he had been there three quarters. Things were going pretty well, even with the war on. We had energon. Classes were still going. But then a column of Autobot ground troops moved into the city. And Megatron ordered an attack. Well, you know what happens to cities..."
"All too well," rumbled the big jet, his frightening face looking a touch more fearsome for the moment.
"Swerve and I came to Kaon in a batch of refugees from Pescus Hex and were living at the work camp. We'd been lucky and been hired for various jobs and were hoping to find steady work. Well one night after about half a stellar-cycle there, after counting our money we decided that we had enough for the luxury of a little refined oil and maybe some high-grade. Everyone said Overdock was the cheapest place to go drinking, so we ended up there. In this place called the Six Thermals, over on Landing Street, we got a couple of small cubes. Well then the guy sitting next to me at the bar started talking to us, and he kept saying how cute I looked when I was drinking. And then he started buying Swerve and I drinks. And of course we weren't going to refuse, though I think that Swerve ended up pocketing most of his drinks to take back to the camp. And then after Swerve went off with some of the other mechs from the camp, this mech started to get a bit handsy with me and kept stroking my frame and telling me how cute I was, and how cute it was when I dribbled a bit of oil or energon down my faceplate."
"You are a clumsy drinker," Cyclonus chuckled.
Tailgate gave a slight harrumph.
"So then what happened?"
"He asked me if I'd like to go back to his place for the night for a 'face and some more energon. And I told him that I didn't think I should because chances of a job were better if I was up first thing in the morning when the contractors came in, and that I didn't want to miss out. So then he said that if work was the issue, he'd pay me five hundred credits to come home with him. Five hundred is what most of the contractors hiring out of the camps paid for a full ten cycles of labor. So that sounded pretty good to me. So I went with him and... well... after Swerve saw the money, and saw that I'd gotten to sleep in a real berth and even had a proper wash afterward, we talked about it. Then Swerve went and checked it out. We used the money we had to buy licenses to work in Overdock, and after surviving our first payday we were able to get an apartment. It was so much nicer than living under the tarps at the work camp."
"And the rest is history," rumbled Cyclonus, now nuzzling at Tailgate's neck.
"It wasn't great, but it was a start to getting real jobs. And Swerve found one. I just... I don't have many skills, and the academy we were at in Pescus Hex was destroyed in the war before I could get any real training. We were lucky just to escape from there still in one piece."
"And here you are now in the berth of a Decepticon officer, being his adorable little fragtoy."
"Yeah..." Tailgate muttered. "His fragtoy."
"You insisted that I was only a client."
"Yes... I did."
And Tailgate wasn't sure why, but he suddenly found tears of optic wash rolling remorsefully across his faceplate.
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"Understood" continues in Chapter 38
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