Title: Wheelie
Rating: T
"Class, class please settle down. Really now, this is just -Oi! Who threw that eraser!?"
Rumble and Frenzy snickered lowly as their homeroom teacher tried for the umpteenth time to (unsuccessfully) calm the students down for the beginning of the orn. Of course, none of the younglings cared, too busy chatting to each other about what they did over the weekend or otherwise causing general mayhem. Eventually, their teacher just threw his servos into the air and gestured exasperatedly to the door.
"C'mon, c'mon," the mech grumbled, "Hurry up and get in here. Say your name quickly now and then grab yourself an empty seat- I need to get this class started."
In through the door scurried a tiny, orange blur. Surprisingly, the class began to quiet, all optics fixed on the little papillon that came to a stop just beside the teacher's desk. With his large, blue optics, the new youngling crossed his arms behind his backstruts; his adorable ears twitching shyly.
Frenzy stiffened in his seat, craning his neck a little to catch a better glimpse of the autodog.
"Hello, hello," began the unknown kid. His vocalizer had a strange lilt to it. "How is your day? My name is Wheelie, I say. Really happy to be here you see; so hoping you'll be kind to me. I'm new in town and would like a friend to show me around."
Absolute silence followed the youngling's greeting.
"Did... did I do something wrong?" Wheelie raised an anxious servo to his chestplates. "I hope we can still get along."
"It's alright, umm, Wheelie was it?," their teacher interjected quickly. The autodog turned his helm to the older mech. "Just take your seat for now and you can make some friends later, alright? For now, everybody else open your textbooks to page twenty-three!"
The whole classroom groaned as they slowly shuffled back into routine; Wheelie being ushered down the rows of desk and to a free seat just in the middle. While everyone else was quick to forget about the curious, little papillon, Frenzy still had his optics glued to the new student. It took him several finger snappings from his twin and one detention slip from the teacher before he could focus on the rest of the class.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Your name is Wheelie, right?
The autodog startled at the question, closing his locker and turning to face the speaker. He was surprised to see it was the black kittycon from his homeroom class. Shyly, he nodded, smiling hopefully up at the bigger mech. Maybe he wanted to be friends?
"Why do you talk like that?"
Again, Wheelie was surprised. Shuttering his optics in puzzlement, the papillon replied, "What do you mean? I'm afraid I don't quite-"
"Like that," the other youngling was quick to interrupt. Wheelie fell silent. The kittycon became quiet for an astrosecond as well, before continuing. "Why do you speak all... song-like? In rhymes and whatnot."
"I...," Wheelie answered in embarrassment. "I do not know. I have always talked like so." He turned his optics to the floor, before quickly glancing back up at the taller student. "I am sorry if it bothers you. I could try to talk more like you do. I mean, if that's what you want. I don't-"
The kittycon shook his helm. "I ain't saying anything like that," he huffed nonchalantly. "I'm just... saying, you could get teased something fierce with the weird way you're talking. Especially since you're the new kid and all."
"O-oh..." The papillon quickly dropped his helm again, holding his books tight to his chestplates. "I, um, t-thank you, I suppose. I'll try and do what you propose." His cheekplates darkening, Wheelie steeled himself to be brave enough to ask the other student's name. But when he lifted his helm, the black youngling was already walking away.
"Frenzy, move your aft!," shouted a similar looking bot from down the hall. This one though was a nice combination of lilac and blue.
"Yeah, yeah; I'm coming, you glitch," the black kittycon grinned as he broke into a sprint. A teacher stuck their helm out of a classroom door, reprimanding the two younglings on their language. Not caring at all that the teacher demanded both come back immediately, they both bolted around the corner, laughing maniacally all the way.
Confused further, Wheelie remained where he was; committing the name 'Frenzy' to his memory banks.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Hello Wheelie. How are you?"
The youngling looked up at the counsellor, smiling brightly. Chromia was a pretty 'bot, he thought, and she was very kind. He was glad to have her for a counsellor. "Alright I am doing. I come for my reviewing," he answered brightly.
Chromia chuckled lightly. "Yes, I know. Follow me please," she requested, turning and walking across the office to her own room. Wheelie rose to his pedes and followed. Once inside, the papillon sat down again in one of the free chairs, while the german shepherd shut the door and sat behind her desk. For a moment, she turned to her computer, pulling up the student's file before returning her attention to him.
"Well, your grades are quite exceptional, so I'm glad that there's no issue there. My only concern now is if you've made any friends. Being a ward of the region, I understand you've been bounced around quite a lot but I'm hoping that you can receive the fullest experience here while at Iacon High before any more major moves. Has everything been alright? Are you fitting in with your classmates, you think?"
It was a loaded question.
Wheelie smiled kindly, his optics belying the tiny trace of sadness he felt. "I'm alright. There's no plight," he replied.
The counsellor looked somewhat doubtful. "...Are you sure?," Chromia asked. The youngling nodded his helm. "Very well. If you do have any trouble -any at all- please come and talk to me, Wheelie. I am here to help you and I want to ensure you have the best possible here. Okay?"
"Okay, okay! I go on my way." Smiling broadly again, the papillon slid from his seat, shaking the german shepherd's servo and skipping from the office. Chromia watched him go, smiling as well, but still feeling a little concerned for the tiny student.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Rumble stopped stroking his guitar, glaring at his twin. "Dude... you're spacing out again."
At the irritated grumble, Frenzy looked up from his magazine. He shuttered his optics idly, before turning back to the page he had currently open. "I don't know what you're talking about," the black kittycon answered.
"Yeah, right. Of course you don't," his brother shot back sarcastically. For a moment longer, Rumble stroked his guitar strings, before stopping and leaning further back in his bean bag. "So, me and some femme are going to go to Firestar's Soda shop tomorrow night. Want me to see if I can get her to drag up a friend for you?"
"No," came the quick response.
Rumble narrowed his optics. "You feeling alright, dude?"
Frenzy cycled a weary intake, glaring up from his magazine this time. "Yeah, I am."
"You sure?"
"Why the slag are you bugging?"
"Because," the blue kittycon hissed, sitting up straight. "You just totally shut down an offer to go out and get some. You've never done that before; something has to be wrong with you!"
"Idiot!" Frenzy rolled up his magazine and threw it at Rumble's helm. It unfortunately fell short of his target. "You trying to get us in trouble or something! If mom finds out-" The youngling paused, listening for any noise in the hallway. All was quiet.
"If mom finds out we're, you-know-what," he continued in a hushed tone, "He'll blow a fuse for certain! Dad won't be too impressed either. You know he keeps telling us that we should be waiting until we're bonded before we do that stuff."
Rumble reached out and kicked his twin. "Yeah, well," he scowled, "You're still being weird."
Rubbing his sore knee joint, Frenzy kicked back, nicking his brother's shin. "Whatever," he grumbled, pulling out another magazine and sinking further into his bean bag chair.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Can't believe the teacher is splitting us...," Rumble groaned.
"No kidding," Frenzy returned. The youngling glared down at the scrap of paper in his servos. "The mech needs to get fragged or something. We always do projects together."
His brother nodded his helm stiffly, yanking open his piece of paper and reading it. "Ah, slag... I'm stuck with that weirdo Barrel. Who'd you get?" The black kittycon unfolded his own and shuttered his optics at the name he saw. Curious, Rumble leaned over his shoulder plating, glancing at the name.
"Wheelie? The dweeb who talks in rhymes?" The blue youngling snickered. "My sincerest apologies, 'Ren."
"Ah, shut up," Frenzy growled, elbowing his brother back. His twin sneered, about to say something more, but then their teacher yelled over the classroom din; telling them to pair up with the partner that had been written on their slip of paper and to begin discussing their project. Cursing under his breath, Rumble was dragged off by the ecstatic saint bernard, leaving the other kittycon all alone.
But not for long.
"Are you Frenzy?," asked a soft voice.
Turning slowly, the taller youngling looked down at Wheelie.
The papillon smiled, his optics shuttering slightly with the action. "Your partner I'm to be! I hope we get along well; I think this project will be swell."
"U-um, yea, sure," Frenzy coughed uncertainly, turning his darkening cheekplates away from the autodog. "So, let's, uh, get this project started,yeah?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Let us start our progress!" Wheelie eagerly climbed into the empty seat beside the kittycon, settling in and putting his notebook on the desk. The other youngling tried his best not to look at the autodog and his cute, wagging tail.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Frenzy tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. With a quiet huff, he sat up, staring across the room at his brother who was deep in recharge on the other berth. At his silent motion, Ravage lifted his helm, staring up at the youngling from his own mat on the floor.
"I'm alright, Rave," he whispered to the feline. "Just can't sleep."
Even with his reassurance, Ravage rose to his paws and padded over to the black kittycon; climbing up onto the berth and snuggling into Frenzy's side. The youngling welcomed it, slinging an arm around his pet's shoulders and scratching at his ears.
"I can't... can't stop thinking about this 'bot, Rave," Frenzy told Ravage softly. "He's a mech and an autodog... not the type I usually go for. But he's... he's really cute. I like the way he smiles, and the weird way he talks; how tiny he is, and his plating colour and... and..."
The kittycon trailed off, lost in his thoughts for a moment. He came out of his daze when Ravage nudged his servo, wanting to be petted some more. Chuckling lowly, Frenzy resumed his scratching, the smile slipping off his face again.
"I really want to hold him, I think. And take him out for dates, make him smile... just, I want to be important to him, you know, Rave? Just like dad is important to mom."
The youngling sighed, flopping back on his berth, upsetting the feline's position. With a huff, Ravage re-positioned himself, laying down up beside Frenzy's pillow and resting his chin on his folded paws. Frenzy smiled apologetically at the cat, rolling over and pressing his face into the animal's neck.
"...just wish I was brave enough to ask him out...," he whispered forlornly, shuttering his optics and dropping back off to sleep.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Wheelie opened his locker, peering over his shoulder plating nervously, before whipping his helm back into the green space. He almost fumbled when changing his textbooks, his optics glancing at a photo he had taped to the back of the locker wall. He smiled softly at the image of a cocky, black kittycon smirking up at him, unable to stop the little wag of his tail.
It was foolish he supposed, but the more time he spent with Frenzy doing classroom assignments and projects, the more he found himself crushing on the other youngling. Though he came off very intimidating at times, Frenzy was quite nice and a good person and Wheelie did enjoy working with him.
Did the kittycon like him back, he wondered.
A sound from somewhere down the hall startled the papillon; quickly, he pulled his helm out from his locker, grabbing a notebook and slamming the door shut. He was glad that there was no one in sight when he turned to look behind him, for the autodog was sure his cheekplates would incriminate him with their fervent blushing.
Dropping his gaze to the floor, Wheelie was quick to shuffle on towards his next class, bemoaning the fact that he'd probably forever be one of those silly 'bots that doodled their crush's name in their datapads; lacking the courage to do much else, let alone vocalize their feelings.
...At least he still got to sit beside him during partner projects, the youngling supposed...
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was quiet in the school that orn. Rumble and Frenzy were kicking it at the back of the school, sharing a couple shots from a high grade bottle they stole off of their uncle behind the cafeteria dumpsters.
"Flipsides has been stalking Shockblast again," the black kittycon started, taking the bottle from his brother's lax servo and swallowing a mouthful.
"Oh yeah?," his twin asked, his vocalizer already starting to slur. "She ain't ever gonna stop, is she? Stupid idiot can't stop her 'ther."
Frenzy shook his helm in agreement, feeling fuzzy about the processor now. "Blasty useless in stoppin' Flips... Hey, at leas' we ain't dealin' with dad for bein' her crush." Rumble snickered in cruel amusement at Shockblast's situation, taking the bottle back from the other kittycon and having himself another mouthful.
"True, true..."
"Are you guys drinking again?" The two younglings startled at the question, turning around and watching with bewildered optics as Flipsides walked around the side of the dumpster, looking nonchalant in her little yellow sundress and her persian tail all fluffed up. She wrinkled her olfactory sensor at the sight of the high-grade bottle, servos cocking onto her hips in a perfect imitation of their carrier. "You know you're not supposed to be drinking. You're too young!"
"Yer too 'ung!," Rumble retorted eloquently, hugging the bottle to his chestplates defensively.
"We're seventeen!," Frenzy shot back. He was more capable of verbal response than his brother was at the moment. "Look whose yappin' anyway! Yeh be too young to be here! ...why ya here...?"
The sparkling scoffed at the question, but purred in the next moment, swaying in girlish fashion. "I'm here to see Shockblast of course! Usually you three are hanging out together by now... but apparently you must have skipped class without him, huh?," Flipsides pouted, glaring at her brothers now. "You're purposely trying to keep him away from me."
The twins said nothing, exchanging the bottle again.
Shaking her helm in disdain, the femme turned and headed for the main building. "I feel sorry for the poor sparks you two decide to chase," she called back over a shoulder plating. "Certainly, I'm not going to make things easier for you guys when you idiots manage to finally get dates."
"Go back to school!," Rumble grumbled, while Frenzy blew a raspberry at his little sister.
"Oh, and if you tell mommy or daddy that I snuck away during recess," Flipsides added, pausing for a moment to smirk back at her brothers. "I'll do much more than tell them that you're drinking." With a giggle and a skip, the smaller kittycon continued on her way leaving the twins to stare after her silently.
"...she's too evil...," they muttered together, returning to their drink.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Wheelie didn't know what to think when he opened up his locker and saw the red envelope sitting there on top of his books. Shifting his textbooks into one arm, the youngling reached nervously into his locker, picking the envelope up. There was no name or information of any kind scrawled on the outside; for a moment, Wheelie didn't actually know what to make of the letter.
The autodog was snapped out of his daze when the bell rang over head, signaling the end of a period. Quickly, he shoved his books into the locker, grabbing his homework binder and backpack, the mysterious letter still held in one servo. It was on his processor all the way down the hall and even when he hurried out the school doors. But Wheelie refrained from opening the envelope, telling himself that he would look at it later.
Later only lasted about five kliks, when the papillon could stand it no longer and plopped down on a nearby bench; tearing open the envelope's seal with trembling fingers, his intakes halted in anticipation. Of course, that sensation was nothing compared to the raw emotion that gripped his spark once he had unfolded the paper inside, smoothing out the words so he could read them.
Wheelie's optics filled with tears as he clutched the letter tight to his chestplates; a happy, little squeal escaping him.
Frenzy liked him! Frenzy really liked him back!
The autodog jumped to his pedes, his tail wagging a mile a minute and his circuits up in a twitter. Wiping at his optics quickly, Wheelie turned around, heading back up the street and towards the school. He had to talk to Frenzy before he went home that night!
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"I...u-um, Frenzy? W-will you speak with me?"
The black kittycon closed his locker, slinging his backpack over one shoulder as he turned to face Wheelie. "Yeah, what is it?," he asked, finding himself very curious, in spite of the fact that school was now over and he was free to do as he wished. Like, head home and kick his brother's aft at City Destroyer II.
Those gorgeous optics glowed at Frenzy's pseudo agreement, before the grinning papillon grabbed his servo, leading them into the stairwell and under the alcove behind the steps. Wary at the change of setting, the taller youngling opened his mouth, ready to demand to know what they were doing here, when Wheelie spun around and threw himself at Frenzy; his face burrowing deep into his sweater's folds and thin arms wrapped tightly around the kittycon's chestplates.
"Oh, Frenzy! I'm so happy!," came the muffled shout. "Yes, I will go out with you! I like you a lot too!"
Stunned, the black mech stood there, his cheekplates burning brightly with his blush and his spark puttering erratically from the warm frame pressed up against his own. But the 'dream come true' quickly crashed as what the autodog had said finally registered in Frenzy's processor.
"What...," he hissed, unwinding Wheelie's arms and shoving the papillon back, "Just what the frag are you talking about?"
The smaller student shuttered his optics, his ears drooping slightly at the unexpected negative response. He fumbled to withdraw the letter from his pocket; gaze fixed on the floor anxiously, and fingers shaking as he worked to smooth out the creases of the paper. "T-this letter here, w-where you called me d-dear. You wrote of your emotions, and, for me, deepest devotions," Wheelie answered, holding the note out desperately as a show of proof.
Frenzy stared blankly at the pink paper and red envelope, his fangs peeking slightly out from under his upper lip component. "This is some sort of joke," he snapped defensively, taking a step back from the autodog. "I didn't write that -slag, I wouldn't even own pink paper. Who do you think I am, huh?"
The papillon could feel his world folding in and collapsing all around him. "B-but, the no-note... y-you don't...?" The rest of his words fizzled out as his intakes suddenly heaved and coolant pooled in his optics. Throwing the letter to the floor, Wheelie tore out from under the staircase; an arm lifted to his face and little sobs escaping him as he ran away from his crush.
The kittycon's servo shot up at the youngling's retreat, but his words remained stuck in his vocalizer, unwilling to leave. Mutely, Frenzy let his servo drop, staring at the trampled letter on the floor as the last of Wheelie's steps faded into the distance.