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Breakdown promised himself he’d never go to a party. Mainly because he would sit in the corner by himself drinking until he couldn’t think straight, leading to his processor short-circuiting and then a miserable ache that would stick for the rest of the day. But then here comes Knockout, asking him if he would like to come to some fancy coronation party hosted by Starscream himself. Of course, he didn’t say no. After all, how could he resist those big pleading optics?
If he thought some formal party with a few mid-caste mechs was bad, how was he supposed to survive when there were going to be thousands of bots in one building? Just thinking about is made his helm spin, on the verge of emptying his tanks. He was no seeker, and his bulky frame would definitely stick out in the crowd. He sighed to himself, his servos slightly shaking. He knew it was pathetic to be scared over something so simple, but past experiences told him otherwise.
The door to their shared habsuite opened, Knockout walking in with a bottle of high-grade that had a pink bow around it. He assumed it was a gift from helping out with preparations for the party.
“Never had high-grade from Vos. Can’t imagine it won’t taste like slag.” The medic huffed, turning his attention to the blue bruiser leaning against the wall.
“You’re back early. I thought Scream wanted you to make a few deliveries?” Breakdown moved towards the medic, handing him an energon cube. He noticed how their fingers brushed against each other.
“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you dear, but Starscream made the drones do the deliveries instead so I took my leave.”
“I’m not disappointed. Glad, actually. I feel a lot better when you’re around.” Breakdown watched his red optics go from the window to him.
They’d known each other for primus knows how long. Knockout knew what he went through in his younger years and helped him through the worst parts of it. But unfortunately, the past still haunts him and makes the poor big guy suffer.
As far as he knew, Knockout was the closest bot to Breakdown. He didn’t necessarily hang out with anyone else nor did he ever leave the building unless Knockout asked him to. It made him believe that he was the only thing keeping Breakdown mentally sane.
Knockout studied those amber optics, giving a small smile. “Sweetspark, if you don’t want to go to the party then I won’t make you.”
Breakdown frowned, unsure of what to say. Instead, Knockout placed his delicate servos on his broad chestplates, pulling him down.
“If it makes you feel any better, we could both stay here and have some quality time to ourselves?” He murmured, pressing his helm against Breakdowns.
“But you put a lot of work into-” He was cut off with a chaste kiss, Knockout standing on the tips of his pedes to reach him.
The medic grabbed his massive hand, pulling him towards their berth. “You’re more important than some stupid party.”
Knockout sat on the berth, patting the spot beside him. “I didn’t mean to stress you out Breaky, I just want you to have a good time.”
The blue mech wrapped his arms around his conjunx, pressing his heated faceplates into the medics neck. Warm breath tickled his neck, then small kisses trailed up to his face, making the medic smile.
“I am having a good time when I’m with you.” Breakdown cupped his warm face in his big servo, watching the medic nuzzle into his hand.
“You can always talk to me sweetspark.” Knockout laid back on the berth, his partner cuddling up next to him.
Breakdown smiled, “I love you.”
“I love you too you big brute."