Chapter Text
“Oh, don’t be so upset, Mirage. It’s a good match. He’ll bring you a great deal of ...well, not prestige, but at least good reputation. You couldn’t have done half so well with one of the other Families.”
Mirage glared at his sire. “I haven’t even met him.”
“Well, you will in a few minutes. Honestly, it’s not like you have to bond with him today. The ceremony isn’t for another week.”
“It’s easy for you to be so dismissive.” The younger mech stood up and walked as heavily as he could, just shy of the stomp that would earn him a scolding at best, to the door. “You got to choose your bondmate.”
“If you think I chose your carrier out of love or something equally foolish, you are mistaken.”
“I am well aware it was a political arrangement. But you didn’t even ask before you bartered me off to a family in Iacon!” Mirage flung the door open, startling a pair of mechs he hadn’t even realized was on the other side. “Oh, forgive me. I did not realize we had guests already.”
“We’re here to see Lord Fracture.” The taller of the two, a pale blue mech with search and rescue decals on his shoulders and bright red optics, rested a hand on the smaller mech’s shoulder. “I’m Hot Spot and this is my brother First Aid.”
First Aid. The mech he was supposed to spark bond with in a week. Mirage studied him for a long moment.
First Aid wasn’t as small as he looked next to his brother, though he could never be described as tall. His plating was painted the bright white that most medics preferred, and was marked clearly with his professional sigils as well as glyphs that indicated he was qualified for military field operations and search and rescue. His optics were covered by a blue visor and his mouth was hidden by a mask, but Mirage was certain that it was removable and his sire hadn’t picked a mech that he couldn’t even dine with.
The medic oozed calmness, as well, obviously less agitated about their situation that Mirage himself was. That helped calm his own anxiety a bit; if this medic from Iacon was able to repress his nervousness, then Mirage could do the same--especially since he had been training to do so all his life.
“Yes, of course.” Mirage bowed to them and stepped to the side. “I am Mirage. My sire said you would arrive shortly, though I had hoped for a few minutes longer to prepare myself.”
“I think you look beautiful,” First Aid said softly. Then he looked shyly down at the floor, clearly embarrassed at having said the thought aloud.
Mirage wasn’t sure he had ever been called beautiful so sincerely in his life. “Thank you. Come in, and I will present you to Lord Fracture.”