Third Wheel

by HectorBomb

Blurr, the fastest mech alive and post-war racing superstar, thinks he's got it all—fame, fortune, and a penthouse that screams luxury. But when he tries to impress the enigmatic Windblade with a glamorous date, his spark-grandpa Kup crashes the party with his own plans.

Blurr's penthouse was the epitome of post-war luxury. The penthouse windows offered a panoramic view of Iacon's skyline, the city's neon lights below reflecting in the window. A high-end sound system had been set up to play a playlist of smooth jams. The stardom provided by racing success meant Blurr got into the best clubs, was worshiped by fans, and was a grade-A glitchhead. And Blurr, the fastest mech alive, was the very embodiment of that success.

Blurr's grin widened as he led Windblade to his penthouse. "I've got the best high-grade in Iacon, a playlist of the smoothest jams, and a view that'll make your spark skip a beat. Tonight's all about you, Windblade. Just you and me, two bots living in the moment, no distractions—"

The door slid open with a loud whoosh, cutting Blurr off mid-sentence. Kup was seated on the couch, a cy-gar dangling from his lips and a mischievous glint in his optics. He was a mech who had seen it all—war, peace, and everything in between—and his rugged, battle-scarred frame was a stark contrast to Blurr's sleek, polished appearance.

"Ah! Grandpa-" Blurr squealed. Windblade glanced at Blurr with a side-optic. "I mean, Kup! What are you?—I mean, hey, spark-grandpa! I didn't know you were stopping by tonight..."

Kup leaned back on the couch, blowing a ring of cy-gar smoke into the air with a smirk. "Stoppin' by? Kid, I live here. Or did ya forget that little detail when you were busy polishin' your skidplate for the cameras?" He winked at Windblade, his tone dripping with casual charm. "Evenin', ma'am. Name's Kup. Old warhorse, storyteller, and occasional babysitter for this speedster here. Don't mind me—just enjoyin' the view." He gestured vaguely toward the window, though his optics lingered on Windblade with a twinkle of amusement.

Windblade raised an optic ridge, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Nice to meet you, Kup. Blurr's told me... well, not much about you, actually." She glanced at Blurr, who was visibly twitching, his plating tightening as he tried to maintain his composure. Kup chuckled, leaning forward to stub out his cy-gar. "Ain't surprised. Kid's too busy talkin' about himself to mention the mech who taught him everything he knows. Ain't that right, Blurr?" He reached over and gave Blurr's skidplate a subtle tug, causing the speedster to yelp and stumble forward slightly. Windblade tilted her head, confused, but Kup was already standing, offering her a charming grin. "So, Windblade, what's your poison? High-grade? Low-grade? Or somethin' a little more... refined?"

Blurr sat down next to Kup on the couch, who still tugged at the back of Blurr's skidplate armor, giving him a wedgie angled in a way that Windblade couldn't see.

"I-I-was-just-telling-Windblade-that-I have-the-best-high-grade-in-Iacon," Blurr rambled as Kup gave his skidplate armor another subtle tug up. "Imported-from-halfway-across-the-galaxy. I-can-get-you-two-some-"

Kup leaned back casually, his pede subtly sliding onto Blurr's lap, pressing just enough against his modesty panel to make the speedster freeze mid-sentence. "Oh, don't trouble yourself, kid," Kup said with a grin, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I'll get the drinks. You just sit tight and... relax." He gave Blurr's skidplate another discreet tug, causing the speedster's optics to flicker in discomfort.

Windblade, oblivious to the subtle torment, smiled politely. "That's very kind of you, Kup. I'd love to try this famous high-grade Blurr's been boasting about." She glanced at Blurr, who was now sitting stiffly, his servos twitching as he tried to maintain his composure. "You alright, Blurr? You look a little... tense."

Kup chuckled, standing up and patting Blurr on the shoulder a little too hard. "Oh, he's fine. Just excited, ain't ya, kid? Probably not used to havin' such lovely company." He winked at Windblade before heading to the kitchen, leaving Blurr to squirm in silence. As he walked away, Kup called over his shoulder, "Windblade, you ever hear the story about how Blurr here once tripped over his own pedes during a race and faceplanted right into the finish line? Classic stuff."

Blurr's faceplates flushed with embarrassment, but before he could retort, Kup was already out of sight, humming an old war tune. Windblade stifled a laugh, her optics sparkling with amusement. "Sounds like you've had quite the adventurous life, Blurr."

Blurr found this as an opportunity to reassert himself.

"Oh yeah, I've won the Speedia 500, the Benefit 500, I'm a ten-time Ibex Cup winner!"

Kup returned from the kitchen with cubes of high-grade energon and set them on the small table before he sat down next to Blurr on the couch. Kup's pede found its way onto Blurr's lap, resting against his modesty panel. Blurr froze for a moment before automatically reaching down to massage Kup's pede. He wanted to speak up, to reassert himself, but felt himself resigning himself to letting Kup take the lead and do most of the talking.

Kup took a slow sip of his high-grade, his optics twinkling with mischief as he watched Blurr's servos move almost automatically to massage his pede. "Ah, that's the stuff," Kup said, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "Nothin' like a good high-grade to loosen up the gears. Ain't that right, Blurr?" He gave the speedster a knowing look, his pede pressing just a little harder against Blurr's modesty panel.

Windblade, sipping her own drink, raised an optic ridge at the odd dynamic but didn't comment. Instead, she turned to Kup with a curious smile. "So, Kup, you've been around for a long time. What's the most exciting thing you've seen in all your stellar cycles?"

Kup's grin widened, and he leaned forward slightly, his pede still firmly planted in Blurr's lap. "Oh, I've seen plenty, lass. Wars, peace treaties, mechs doin' the dumbest slag you can imagine—present company included." He nudged Blurr with his pede, causing the speedster to fumble slightly. "But y'know, the most excitin' thing? Watchin' young bots like Blurr here grow up. Even if they do get a little too big for their spoilers sometimes."

Blurr's faceplates burned with embarrassment, but he couldn't find the words to protest. Instead, he kept massaging Kup's pede, his optics darting between Windblade and the floor. Kup, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying himself, his tone warm and conversational as he continued. "So, Windblade, what about you? What's a flyer like you do for fun when you're not savin' the world or dealin' with speedsters who talk faster than they think?"

Windblade chuckled, her optics flicking to Blurr for a moment before returning to Kup. "Oh, you know, the usual. Exploring, training, and occasionally getting dragged into situations I didn't see coming." She paused, her smile turning playful. "Though I have to say, this is definitely one of the more... unique evenings I've had in a while."

Kup barked a laugh, slapping his knee with his free servo. "Unique, huh? Well, stick around, lass. With Blurr here, every night's an adventure—whether he likes it or not." He gave Blurr's modesty panel one last press before finally removing his pede, leaving the speedster to slump in relief. "Now, who's up for another round? Blurr, be a good lad and fetch us some more high-grade, eh?"

"Yes, grandpa-" Blurr meekly responded as he got up from the couch and zipped over to the kitchen to fetch more cubes of high-grade energon.

Blurr zipped back to the living room, while Kup and Windblade flirted. Blurr froze for a moment, standing there in the doorway with a cube of high-grade energon in each servo. He went and set them on the small table before he sat down on the couch.

He felt like a third wheel on his own date. Kup's pede shifted slightly on Blurr's lap, and the racer froze, his optics darting nervously between Kup and Windblade. Blurr continued automatically massaging Kup's pede. As Kup flirted with Windblade, Blurr's spark pulse raced, and he couldn't help but feel...emasculated.

Kup, clearly enjoying himself, leaned back comfortably, his pede still firmly planted in Blurr's lap. He took a slow sip of his high-grade, his optics never leaving Windblade as he spoke. "Y'know, Windblade, I've always admired flyers. Graceful, powerful, and sharp as a proton blade. Not like some speedsters I know, all flash and no substance." He gave Blurr's modesty panel a subtle nudge with his pede, causing the speedster to flinch but continue massaging out of sheer habit.

Windblade chuckled, her optics flicking to Blurr for a moment before returning to Kup. "You're quite the charmer, Kup. I can see why Blurr looks up to you." Her tone was light, but there was a teasing edge to it that made Blurr's spark sink even further.

Kup waved a servo dismissively, though his grin only widened. "Ah, the kid's got potential. He just needs a little... guidance. Ain't that right, Blurr?" He glanced down at the speedster, who was now staring at the floor, his faceplates burning with humiliation. "Speak up, lad. Don't be shy."

Blurr opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he just nodded weakly, his servos still working on Kup's pede. Windblade tilted her head, her smile softening slightly. "Blurr, you're awfully quiet. Everything alright?"

Before Blurr could stammer out a response, Kup cut in smoothly. "Oh, he's fine. Just a little overwhelmed, I reckon. Ain't every day you get to spend time with two legends, eh, kid?" He gave Blurr's modesty panel another nudge, this time a little harder, causing the speedster to jolt slightly. "Now, Windblade, let me tell you about the time I single-handedly held off an entire Decepticon battalion with nothin' but a rusty wrench and a half-charged blaster..."

Blurr's faceplates burned hotter, his confidence crumbling under the weight of Kup's effortless charisma. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a weak, "Uh, yeah, grandpa's… uh… pretty cool, I guess."

The racer slumped back into the couch, his ego thoroughly deflated. As Blurr slumped into the couch, he leaned against Kup's side while still massaging his pede. The pede on his modesty panel, the humiliation and emasculation were getting a bit much for Blurr's processor to handle, and he was becoming something much...meeker.

Kup noticed Blurr leaning against him and couldn't resist one last jab. He patted Blurr's helm with a heavy servo, his tone dripping with faux affection. "There, there, kid. Don't worry, you'll get there someday. Maybe. If you're lucky." He chuckled, his optics glinting with mischief as he turned back to Windblade. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes—the Decepticon battalion. So there I was, outnumbered, outgunned, and surrounded by a bunch of 'Cons who thought they had me cornered..."

Windblade listened intently, her optics flicking to Blurr every so often with a mix of amusement and pity. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her servo. "Sounds like you've lived quite the life, Kup. I'd love to hear more."

Blurr, meanwhile, sat there in silence, his servos still moving mechanically as he massaged Kup's pede. His spark ached with a mix of embarrassment and resignation, and he couldn't help but feel like he'd been completely overshadowed in his own home. Kup's pede shifted slightly, pressing just enough against his modesty panel to remind him of his place, and Blurr let out a quiet sigh.

Kup, sensing Blurr's defeat, decided to twist the knife just a little more. "Y'know, Windblade," he said, his tone casual but his optics gleaming with mischief, "if you ever get tired of speedsters who talk faster than they think, there's always room in my stories for a flyer like you. What do ya say?" He winked at her, his grin widening as Blurr's optics widened in horror.

Windblade laughed, her voice light and melodic. "I'll keep that in mind, Kup. You're certainly full of surprises." She glanced at Blurr, her smile softening. "But don't worry, Blurr. You've got your own charm... in your own way."

Blurr managed a weak smile, though it didn't reach his optics. He knew he'd been thoroughly outplayed, and there was no recovering from this. Kup, meanwhile, leaned back with a satisfied smirk, his pede still firmly planted in Blurr's lap. The old mech had won this round, and he knew it.

Blurr had been reduced from a superstar to little more than a meek spectator on his own date. He couldn't help but feel like he'd already lost whatever game he thought he was playing.

As Kup's pede was pressed more against Blurr's modesty panel, Blurr began feeling himself leak a tiny bit of lubricant into his modesty panel. Although it wasn't enough to be noticed by Windblade, Blurr couldn't help but become even more submissive toward Kup now as his processor struggled to process the sheer humiliation of the situation.

Kup, ever the observant mech, noticed the subtle shift in Blurr's demeanor and couldn't resist pushing just a little further. He leaned back, his pede pressing ever so slightly harder against Blurr's modesty panel, his tone casual as he continued regaling Windblade with his tales. "So there I was, knee-deep in 'Con scrap, when suddenly—" He paused, glancing down at Blurr with a smirk. "You alright there, kid? You're lookin' a little... tense. Maybe you should take a break from massagin' my pede and get yourself together."

Blurr's optics widened, his faceplates flushing even hotter as he realized Kup had noticed his predicament. "I-I'm fine," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just... uh... enjoying the story."

Windblade, still oblivious to the subtle power play, gave Blurr a sympathetic smile. "You sure, Blurr? You seem a little off. Maybe you should take a moment to cool down."

Kup chuckled, his pede shifting slightly to remind Blurr of his place. "Nah, he's fine. Ain't ya, kid? Just a little overwhelmed by all the excitement. Right, Blurr?"

Blurr nodded weakly, his servos still moving automatically as he massaged Kup's pede. "Y-yeah, just... overwhelmed."

Kup grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "That's what I thought. Now, where was I? Ah, yes—knee-deep in 'Con scrap..." He continued his story, his pede still firmly planted in Blurr's lap, while the speedster sat there in silent humiliation, his spark pulsing with a mix of embarrassment and resignation.

But the warmth of Kup's pede against his modesty panel, the way it made his spark pulse and his frame react, was impossible to ignore. He felt himself leaking more lubricant, his systems betraying him in the most embarrassing way possible.

Kup chuckled, clearly enjoying Blurr's discomfort. "Aw, don't be shy, kid. It's just us here. Windblade doesn't mind, do you, sweetspark?" He winked at her, his tone dripping with charm.

Windblade smirked, leaning back in her seat. "Not at all. It's… interesting to see this side of Blurr. Kind of endearing, in a way." Her optics glinted with amusement.

Kup gave Blurr's helm another patronizing pat, his grin widening. "See? Nothing to be ashamed of, kid. Just relax and let grandpa take the lead. You're in good servos." His pede shifted again, pressing just enough to make Blurr's vents hitch. The racer's optics flickered, his submission deepening as he struggled to process the confusing mix of humiliation and arousal coursing through his systems.

His spike twitched in his modesty panel. His hips subtly lifted up and down against Kup's pede as Kup shifted his pede again, Blurr now subtly trying to lean into his touch. Blurr unashamedly rested his helm against Kup's shoulder as he struggled to process the humiliation and arousal, if Kup was going to humiliate him in front of his date, he might as well let himself be taken care of and feel good about it.

Blurr seizes up as Kup's pede provides just the right amount of pressure to cause Blurr to have a mini-overload, the transfluid flooding his modesty panel, not enough to be noticed by Windblade.

Kup's optics flicked down to Blurr, a sly grin spreading across his faceplates as he felt the subtle shift in the speedster's frame. He didn't miss the way Blurr's vents hitched or the faint tremor that ran through the racer's body. Kup's pede pressed just a little harder, his tone casual as he continued his story, though his words were clearly aimed at Blurr now. "Y'know, Windblade, sometimes even the fastest mechs need to learn when to slow down and let someone else take the wheel. Ain't that right, Blurr?"

Blurr's helm nodded weakly against Kup's shoulder, his optics dimmed as he tried to process the overwhelming mix of humiliation and pleasure. His voice was barely a whisper, trembling as he murmured, "Y-yeah, grandpa… you're right…"

Windblade, still oblivious to the full extent of what was happening, tilted her head slightly, her smile softening. "You're being awfully quiet, Blurr. Sure you're okay?" Her tone was genuine, though there was a flicker of amusement in her optics as she glanced between the two mechs.

Kup chuckled, his pede shifting just enough to make Blurr's frame twitch. "Oh, he's fine. Just a little overwhelmed, ain't ya, kid? Sometimes it's good to let someone else take charge for a change." He gave Blurr's helm another patronizing pat, his grin widening as he felt the speedster's frame shudder against him.

Blurr's faceplates burned with embarrassment, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. The warmth of Kup's pede, the pressure against his modesty panel, and the sheer dominance radiating from the old mech had him completely undone. He let out a quiet, shaky vent, his optics flickering as he leaned further into Kup's side, his pride thoroughly shattered.

Kup, clearly enjoying himself, turned back to Windblade with a wink. "So, where were we? Ah, yes—knee-deep in 'Con scrap..." He continued his story, his pede still firmly planted in Blurr's lap, while the speedster sat there in silent submission, his spark pulsing with a mix of humiliation and reluctant arousal. Kup's grin never wavered, his tone light and conversational as he effortlessly kept Windblade entertained, all while reminding Blurr exactly who was in charge.

Blurr, meanwhile, sat there for a moment longer, his frame still trembling from the aftermath of his mini-overload. He knew the night was far from over, and with Kup in charge, there was no telling how much more humiliation he'd have to endure.

"How-about-we-go-out-and-get-a-few-drinks? I'll-pay," Blurr offered. "My-treat."

Blurr thought that if they were in public that his humiliation would end, he had no idea how wrong he would be.

Kup's grin widened at Blurr's suggestion, his optics glinting with mischief. "Drinks, eh? Now you're talkin', kid. But before we go, why don't you hit the washroom and... freshen up a bit? Wouldn't want you leakin' all over the place, now would we?" He gave Blurr a pointed look, his tone casual but his words carrying a subtle edge that only the speedster would understand.

Windblade raised an optic ridge, glancing between the two. "Everything alright, Blurr?"

Kup waved a servo dismissively. "Oh, he's fine. Just needs a quick tune-up. Ain't that right, Blurr?"

"Yeah-that's-right, just-a-quick-tune-up," Blurr responded. "A-pit-stop."

Blurr got up from the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. He glanced at Kup, his frame still trembling slightly.

Blurr zipped over to the washroom. Blurr could only stand in the washroom, his faceplates burning with humiliation as he heard Kup quietly talking to Windblade and Windblade giggling.

After cleaning his modesty panel, Blurr zipped back to the living room, while Kup and Windblade got up.

Kup was already on his pedes, his arm casually slung around Windblade's shoulders as he regaled her with another story. "So there I was, face-to-face with a 'Con twice my size, and all I had was a rusty wrench and a prayer..." He paused, noticing Blurr's return, and gave the speedster a knowing smirk. "Ah, there he is! Lookin' all shiny and refreshed. Ready to hit the town, kid?"

Windblade chuckled, her optics flicking to Blurr with a playful glint. "You sure you're up for this, Blurr? You seem a little... off tonight."

Kup clapped Blurr on the back, his grip firm and just a little too heavy. "Oh, he's fine. Ain't ya, kid? Just a little nervous, that's all. But don't worry, grandpa's got your back." He winked at Windblade, his tone dripping with charm. "Shall we, then? I'm dyin' to see if Blurr here can keep up with the old mechs when it comes to high-grade."

Blurr led the way to his favorite nightclub. As Blurr arrived, he found himself holding open the door for Kup and Windblade. It felt like the right thing to do, but also something about it felt wrong in his spark. Blurr noticed Kup's servo on Windblade's lower back as he guided her inside. He forced a smile and tried to shake off that uneasy feeling as he entered behind them. Blurr submissively followed, optics darting nervously.

Blurr sat at the counter, Kup sat in the middle, while Windblade sat on the other side of Kup. Blurr couldn't help but feel the literal separation between him and Windblade at this point.

Kup leaned back in his seat, his arm casually draped over the back of Windblade's chair as he flagged down the bartender. "Three cubes of your strongest high-grade," he said with a grin, his optics flicking to Blurr. "And make sure the kid's is a double. He's gonna need it if he wants to keep up with us old mechs."

Windblade chuckled, her smile warm as she glanced at Blurr. "You sure you can handle that, speedster? Kup seems like he's got a few stellar cycles of practice under his belt."

Kup barked a laugh, his servo giving Windblade's chair a playful shake. "Oh, he'll try. But let's be real, lass—holdin' your high-grade is what separates the bots from the mechs. Ain't that right, Blurr?" He winked at the speedster, his tone teasing but his optics sharp with challenge.

"Y-Yeah-that's-right," Blurr responded as he picked up his glass cube that he was served, taking a sip. Kup downed his high-grade in one swig.

Kup slammed his empty cube down on the counter with a satisfied grin, his optics gleaming as he turned to Blurr. "C'mon, kid, don't sip it like it's engex at a fancy party. Down it like a real mech!" He nudged Blurr's cube with a knuckle, his tone playful but with an edge that made it clear this wasn't a suggestion.

Windblade raised an optic ridge, her smile teasing as she glanced between the two. "You heard him, Blurr. Show us what you've got."

Kup leaned back, his arm still draped over Windblade's chair, his grin widening as he watched Blurr squirm. "Don't tell me the fastest mech alive is scared of a little high-grade. Or is your paint turnin' yellow, kid?"

"I'm-not-a-coward," Blurr responded. "No-matter-what-you-might-think, grandpa."

Blurr downed the rest of his high-grade.

Kup let out a hearty laugh, slapping the counter with his servo. "That's more like it! See, Windblade? The kid's got some spark in him after all." He grinned, his optics glinting with mischief as he flagged down the bartender for another round. "But let's see if he can keep up when the real fun starts."

Windblade chuckled, her optics flicking to Blurr with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "I'm impressed, Blurr. Maybe there's more to you than just speed."

Kup leaned in, his tone conspiratorial as he whispered loud enough for Blurr to hear, "Don't let him fool ya, lass. One cube doesn't make a mech. Let's see how he handles the next one—or better yet, a little arm-wrestlin' to really test his mettle." He winked at Blurr, his grin widening. "What do ya say, kid? Think you've got what it takes to take on an old mech like me?"

The teasing made Blurr feel like he needed to assert himself. The high-grade made him feel confident that he could.

Blurr put his elbow on the counter and held up his servo.

"I got what it takes, but don't blame rusty joints if you lose," Blurr responded to Kup.

Kup barked a laugh, his optics gleaming with amusement as he rolled his shoulder and placed his elbow on the counter. "Rusty joints, eh? Kid, I've been arm-wrestlin' since before your spark was a glimmer in your creator's optics." He locked his servo with Blurr's, his grip firm and unyielding. "Windblade, you're the judge. Count us down, lass."

Windblade smirked, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Alright, ready? Three... two... one... go!"

In a nanosecond, Kup slammed Blurr's servo down with a resounding thud, his grin widening as the speedster's optics widened in shock. "And that's how it's done, kid. Maybe next time, huh?" He winked at Windblade, who was trying to stifle a laugh.

Blurr's faceplate heated up in embarrassment.

The drinks arrived. "One for the bot, one for the mech, and one for the lady," the server announced.

A bubbly pink engex cocktail for Blurr, a mug of motor oil for Kup, and a refined glass of energon for Windblade. Blurr's bubbly pink cocktail was complete with two straws poking out like Shockwave's horns and a cherry like his single red optic. Blurr stared at it, his optics dimming as memories of being crushed into a cube by the Decepticon flooded back—an embarrassing low point.

Blurr sipped his cocktail.

Kup grabbed his mug of motor oil and downed it in one go, slamming it back on the counter with a satisfied grin. He glanced at Blurr's bubbly pink cocktail, his optics twinkling with mischief. "Kid, you should've asked for whipped coolant cream on top. Could've called it dessert." He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "But I guess that's what happens when you order somethin' that looks like it belongs at a sparkling's party."

Windblade sipped her refined energon, her smile playful as she glanced at Blurr. "It's... colorful. Very... you."

Kup barked a laugh, his servo clapping Blurr on the back a little too hard. "Don't worry, kid. We all start somewhere. Maybe next time you'll graduate to somethin' with a little more... bite." He winked at Windblade, clearly enjoying himself.

"I-I-thought-it-was-classy-and-refined," Blurr responded.

Blurr's faceplates heated, the pink drink suddenly feeling less glamorous and more… effeminate.

Kup gave Blurr a hearty pat on the back, his grin widening as he subtly twisted the safety valve on the speedster's waste tank. "Classy and refined, huh? Sure, kid, whatever helps you recharge at night." He chuckled, his tone light but his optics glinting with mischief. "But don't worry, we'll make a real mech outta you yet."

Windblade raised an optic ridge, her smile teasing as she swirled her energon. "I think it's cute, Blurr. Very... unique."

Kup leaned back, his arm still casually draped around Blurr's waist, his grin never faltering. "Unique's one word for it. But hey, at least it matches his personality—bright, bubbly, and a little too sweet for his own good." He winked at Windblade, clearly enjoying the banter.

Blurr kept sipping his drink, welcoming the feelings of the first bit of engex hitting his system and the initial euphoria.

A girlish giggle slipped out—high-pitched and mortifying—and Kup leaned in close.

Kup watched Blurr sip his drink, a fond smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's it, little bot," he muttered under his breath, his tone almost affectionate but still laced with teasing. "Take it slow. Wouldn't want you to short-circuit before the real fun starts."

Windblade glanced at Kup, her optics narrowing slightly in curiosity. "Did you say something, Kup?"

Kup waved a servo dismissively, his grin never wavering. "Nothin' important, lass. Just makin' sure the kid doesn't bite off more than he can chew." He gave Blurr's waist a subtle squeeze, his pede brushing against the speedster's under the counter as a silent reminder of who was in charge.

Blurr heard him and liked the way he felt when Kup called him that. But despite that, he played along like he didn't hear it.

He leaned into Kup, resting his helm on the old mech's shoulder. Kup's arm slid around Blurr's waist, pulling him close—a possessive grip that screamed mine to anyone watching.

Kup tightened his grip around Blurr's cinched waist, pulling the speedster even closer as if showing him off. "Y'know, Windblade," he said, his tone dripping with playful charm, "this one here might look all flashy and fast, but deep down, he's just a little bot who needs someone to keep him in line. Ain't that right, Blurr?" He gave the speedster's waist a firm squeeze, his grin widening as he glanced down at him.

Windblade chuckled, her optics flicking between the two with amusement. "Seems like you've got him well in hand, Kup. I'm starting to think he likes it."

Kup barked a laugh, his servo giving Blurr's waist another squeeze. "Oh, he does. Don't let that tough racer act fool ya. Deep down, he's just a sweet little speedster who needs a firm servo to guide him." He winked at Windblade, his other arm still casually draped over her chair, effortlessly balancing his attention between the two.

Blurr let out a tipsy sigh. Kup chuckled, giving Blurr's cinched waist a squeeze as if showing off a prized possession. Blurr didn't mind as much as he should've. He placed a couple shanix on the counter.

To the casual observer, Kup and Windblade looked like the couple, with Blurr as the awkward third wheel trailing behind them. The speedster stumbled slightly, his steps unsteady from the engex, as he followed the two through the dimly lit streets of Iacon. Kup's arm was still slung casually around Windblade's shoulders, his other servo resting possessively on Blurr's waist. Windblade's laughter echoed softly in the night, her optics bright with amusement as Kup regaled her with another story.

As they turned into a dark alley, a low growl cut through the air. Fangry, a snarling Decepticon thug, stepped out of the shadows, his optics gleaming with malice. "Well, well, look what we've got here," he sneered, his voice rough and menacing. "Hand over your shanix, and maybe I'll let you walk outta here in one piece."

Kup's grip on Blurr tightened, his optics narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of Windblade. "Looks like we've got ourselves a situation, kids."

Blurr puffed out his chest, stepping in front of Windblade. "Backoff, creep, I'mthefastestmechalive, youdon'tstandachance—"

Fangry didn't even let Blurr finish his sentence. With a single, brutal punch to the faceplate, he sent the speedster flying. Blurr's intoxicated bravado lasted all of three astroseconds before he crashed face-first into a garbage can of scrap, his aft sticking up over the lid and his legs flailing comically in the air. The sound of clattering metal echoed through the alley as Blurr groaned, his pride thoroughly shattered.

Kup sighed, shaking his helm as he glanced at Windblade. "And that's why you don't let the kid lead." He cracked his knuckles, his optics narrowing as he turned back to Fangry. "Alright, 'Con. Let's see if you can handle someone who's actually got some fight in 'em."

Kup's steely glare locked onto Fangry, his battle-hardened frame radiating an aura of pure intimidation. The Decepticon thug froze, his optics widening as he took in the old mech's unflinching stance. Without a word, Fangry turned tail and bolted, his cowardly retreat punctuated by literally tucking his tail between his legs.

Kup snorted, shaking his helm as he turned back to Blurr, who was still flailing in the garbage can. "Kid, you've got more guts than sense," he muttered, grabbing Blurr by the waist and yanking him out—accidentally giving him a subtle wedgie in the process. Blurr yelped, his faceplates burning with humiliation, but Windblade, still distracted by Kup's effortless heroics, didn't notice.

What she also didn't notice was the motor oil streaming down Blurr's racer legs, pooling at his pedes. Kup, however, did. He smirked, leaning in close to whisper in Blurr's audial. "Next time, leave the heroics to the real mech, little bot." He gave Blurr's waist a firm pat, his tone teasing but his optics glinting with mischief. "Now, let's get you cleaned up before Windblade notices you've sprung a leak."

Back at the penthouse, Blurr took an oil bath to wash off the shame of his humiliation.

Blurr emerged from his oil bath, feeling slightly cleaner but no less humiliated. As he stepped into the living room, he noticed Kup and Windblade rising from the couch, their optics locked in a way that made his spark sink. He hesitated, then moved to follow them, only for Kup to block the doorway with a firm servo.

"Whoa there, little bot," Kup said, his tone dripping with playful authority. "Windblade and I are gonna have some...alone time~" He smirked, his optics glinting with mischief as he gave Blurr's helm a patronizing pat. "Be a good little bot and wait out here, alright?"

Windblade peeked over Kup's shoulder, her smile teasing as she winked at Blurr. The door slid shut with a whoosh, leaving Blurr standing alone in the dimly lit hallway, his spark aching with a mix of embarrassment and resignation. He slumped against the wall, his optics dimming as he listened to the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation from the other side of the door.

Everything that once made him feel glamorous—his penthouse, his drinks, his style—now felt effeminate under Kup's relentless teasing. Blurr's servo wandered as he listened to the muffled sounds from the berthroom. His optics powered off, he tried to match Kup's rhythm, but after a few astroseconds, lubricant splattered his servo—and the sounds beyond the door kept going.

Blurr washed up, defeated, and plopped onto the couch. He bundled under a heated blanket, scooping coolant ice cream into his mouth, pouting as the sound system blared at full volume, but it couldn't drown out the muffled laughter—and other sounds—from the berthroom. His optics flickered to the movie on the screen: some cheesy romance he didn't even like.

"StupidKupstupidWindbladestupiddate," Blurr sniffled. He shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, pouting as the movie flickered on the screen, his spark sinking lower with every muffled giggle he couldn't quite ignore. "It'snotfair."

The fastest mech alive, reduced to a sulky spectator in his own penthouse.

The next morning, Kup emerged from the berthroom, his frame relaxed and a satisfied smirk plastered across his faceplates. Windblade followed close behind, her optics bright and a playful glint in her smile. The two paused as they spotted Blurr curled up on the couch, a half-empty tub of coolant ice cream resting on his lap and a heated blanket tangled around his frame. The speedster's optics were dimmed, his faceplates still etched with a faint pout even in recharge.

Kup chuckled softly, crossing his arms as he looked down at his spark-grandson. "Well, ain't that a sight. Poor kid's all tuckered out." His tone was fond, though his smirk never wavered.

Windblade stepped beside him, her smirk matching his. "Last night was... enlightening," she said, her voice low and teasing. "I can see why you enjoy spending so much time with him."

Kup barked a laugh, his optics glinting with mischief. "Oh, he's a handful, but he's got his charms. He might be a handful, but the kid's my trophy grandson. Always keeps things interestin'. I'm sure he'd love a second date with you." He paused, leaning in slightly as he added with a wink, "But just so you know, I'm romantically available too."

Windblade laughed softly, her optics flicking to Kup with clear interest. "I'll keep that in mind. You're full of surprises, Kup."

The old mech grinned, his servo resting on Windblade's lower back as he guided her toward the door. "Stick around, lass, and you'll see plenty more where that came from."

As the door slid shut behind them, Blurr stirred slightly on the couch, his pout deepening as he mumbled in his recharge, "StupidKupstupidWindblade..." But for now, the fastest mech alive was content to stay bundled under his blanket, dreaming of a world where he wasn't constantly overshadowed by his spark-grandpa's effortless charm.