Understood
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Chapter 3
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"There he is! That big scary purple guy again!" Tailgate squeaked.
"If he asks, show him your face, and don't you dare spook again. If you do, I'm leaving you. I can always find another partner."
"I know, I know," Tailgate assured him. "We've been through this. Gamma and Hot Zone even said he was okay."
Swerve was turning himself casually to catch the streetlight, his red and white color scheme being unusual around these parts and something of a draw. And sure enough the tall purple Decepticon noticed and approached. "Hey there," Swerve greeted. Looking for some minibot action?"
The Decepticon officer suddenly recognized the pair from a deca-cycle before. "Oh, it's you two," he said flatly, his smile falling. "Your friend wouldn't show me his face." And then he rumbled a laugh. "Either ugly or an Autobot."
"I'm not ugly," Tailgate protested and immediately stepped forward and dropped his mask. "See? And I'm not an Autobot either."
Swerve smiled. This was going much better.
"Over your shyness I see," said the purple mech, finding that the small thing certainly wasn't ugly. He wasn't even plain. The Decepticon reached down, placed a single clawed digit under the mech's chin, and lifted it into the streetlight's glow. Illuminated, he found the faceplate smooth and clean and actually rather pretty. The lip components on their own were a work of art in fact.
Tailgate forced himself to smile, doing his best to remain calm, constantly reminding himself that Gamma and Hot Zone had described the dark Decepticon as 'more gentle than you'd expect.'
And it obviously pleased the purple mech. "I'll take you, just for a cycle."
"Thank you," Tailgate said, remembering that he could off-line his optics to the frightening face.
"Both of us?" asked Swerve hopefully.
"Not tonight. I'm tired," he said.
Both minibots made something of a sad little noise, which the Decepticon ignored. "Come along," he said, taking Tailgate's hand and leading him toward the blinking and beckoning lights of a hotel entrance, one of the many that offered rooms in two cycle blocks. Tailgate looked back over his shoulder at Swerve, who was looking somewhat disappointed that Tailgate had been chosen over him. ::You can have half of the money. I don't mind,:: the blue and white mech sent.
The purple flier herded the minibot into the hotel lobby, slipped a credit chip into one of the room choice slots, pushed a few buttons, and then took the door key that appeared. Then it was into an elevator and up to their room. Inside, Tailgate gasped at the berth. "Ooh! Look at that! It looks so comfortable!" He put his hands on the padding and pushed against it lightly, the mattress dipping and springing beneath his touch. "Ooh it is comfortable! I've never been on a berth this nice!"
"It had better be comfortable. I'm going to recharge after this," growled the big mech.
"You are tired, I guess," answered Tailgate, and he hopped up onto the berth, going for the pillows and finding them as wonderfully soft and pliable as they looked. "Oh! You'll probably fall right asleep if you put your head on one of these." Tailgate lay down testing the pillow. It was as soft as it looked and smelled clean. Most mechs got a bare-bones room to conduct business in—a berth with a thin pad, a desk, and a water tap in an alcove to clean up with. Besides the nicer dressings on the bed, this room had a window, a rug, a full washrack, and a mirror.
The big purple mech chuckled. "I will after a couple of overloads."
Tailgate put on a smile and rolled onto his side to face his employer, now standing beside of the bed. "Anything special you want?" He ran a hand in one slow, languid stroke over his hip and thighplates.
The Decepticon smiled, his face looking even more sinister as he did so. "Yes there is..."
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Later, when Tailgate returned, Swerve checked him over, finding him fresh from a shower and not at all damaged. "Was he reasonable with you?"
"He was," Tailgate answered. "Gamma was right."
"You're nice and clean."
"The room he got at the Turning Light had a big washrack with a steamer unit and a really soft berth too! I think it was the nicest berth I've ever been in! He gave me a few scratches with those claws of his, but I won't need any repairs or repainting. And here..." He pushed five one hundred credit chips into Swerve's hand. "He gave me an extra 100 credits afterwards because he said he liked the way I moaned."
"That was nice of him," answered Swerve, staring at the money. It had been a lucky break for them.
"Yes. And I did my best not to be scared."
Swerve smiled at this, and then kissed his partner on the forehead. "I'm sorry this is our life now, but at least we're not dead or empty."
"It's not awful," said Tailgate.
"No. It's not."
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"Understood" continues in Chapter 4
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