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Rivals In Love

Summary:

Scourge and Tailgate both love Cyclonus very much. But who, they wonder, does Cyclonus love more?

Well, they're certainly not going to sit about guessing. They've made a game of trying to win the purple mech's favor.

Notes:

This fic has a short song portion, and you'll kind of know it when you see it. You can find the song I referenced by searching for "Imagination" by Foster the People.

Work Text:

Swerve yelped as the padd was unceremoniously slammed into the bar top by an even more unceremonious mech.

“Barkeep- with this, I want you to cover all of Cyclonus’s drinks from hereon out. Forever.” The bartender looked down at the padd- laid out before him was Scourge’s payment information and by Primus, he was loaded.

Cyclonus almost turned red as he and Tailgate gawked at their partner’s bold move. “Scourge, there’s no need to-”

“Quiet, Cyc. It’s my money and I spend it the way I want.” Scourge cut his partner off with a brilliant smile, turning his attention back to Swerve, who was gaping at his bank balance.

“Primus, mech, what’dya do to amass a sum that big, steal an entire bank and then some? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bank account in the seven digits on this ship before. Ever! What do you do for work? Lemme guess, Matrix polisher? Ooh, no, no, planet salesman, ma-”

“Bounty hunting. That’s what I do. Did. It was lucrative business. But I’m also amazing at saving money, considering I was stuck in a different universe for six million years.” Scourge chuckled. “Compound interest is magic…”

“Bounty hunting, huh? Well, fancy that.” Swerve muttered, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, so try not to overcharge me too much. I will know…” The flier grinned menacingly, causing Swerve to shudder in concern.

Tailgate glared at him from two seats away as Cyclonus tried again to persuade Scourge to call it off, to no avail. That flier had been showing off since the day he’d been invited into their relationship. Theirs! Cyclonus and his! Not that he didn’t understand the bond the two had had before their incident aboard the Ark, or didn’t like Scourge, but- this was just over-the-top.

“No, seriously, sweetspark- it’s on me. I can’t spend all of this shanix myself, you know…” Scourge laughed, suddenly catching Tailgate’s optics. A very smug look crossed his face for just a moment before he turned back to Swerve, who was gingerly inputting his information into the system. “Actually, barkeep- cover all of Tailgate’s drinks, too. It’s on me. There, now you can’t complain, Cyc- I’m not just treating you.”

“You’re being ridiculous. There really is no need for… forget it.” Cyclonus sighed, but he didn’t argue any further, the blush on his face only deepening. Tailgate had never seen him this flustered before, and the fact that he wasn’t the reason for it was unacceptable. He had to do something- had to one-up this stupid, suave seeker that had barged into their lives so easily.

“Wow, thanks, Scourge! You’re really cool for that!” He thanked, trying to hide the envious note in his voice. “Hey Swerve, can I get a drink? Since it’s on him?”

He then cheekily proceeded to order the most expensive engex on the menu, much to Swerve’s amusement and Cyclonus’s horror. The game was on- and it was his move. He had to think of a way to win Cyclonus over that stupid sexy flier- by any means necessary.

“GGs, hornhead! Try not to lose so badly next time, yeah? I mean, I know I’m one trillion times better than you, but that was just pathetic!” Whirl laughed raucously, helping pull Cyclonus to his pedes.

“It was a good match. Thank you for the challenge.” Cyclonus nodded, shaking Whirl’s claw in respect. “I shall put up a better fight when we meet next week.”

“You’d better! I could’ve beaten you in my recharge this time ‘round! Hey, wanna get drinks?”

“Perhaps another time; I need to get some recharge before my shift.”

Cyclonus stalked down the hallways, wincing at the post-spar stress from his aching frame and wondering where his partners were at this hour. He didn’t have to wonder long, however, as a pair of clawed servos wrapped around his midsection and a familiar face appeared over his shoulder.

“Hello, Scourge.”

“Hey, sweetspark. Headed back to the hab?” Scourge asked, wrapping his arms firmly around Cyclonus like the affectionate glitch he was.

“That I am- I am in need of some recharge before my shift tonight.”

“I’ll come with, then. I just got off my shift, and I could use some recharge myself.” Scourge wrapped his servo in his, and they continued down the hall.

But something was off as they stopped outside of their shared hab. It wasn’t anything particularly noticeable, but both of them thought something felt different as Cyclonus punched in the keycode to the room. They had their answer soon enough, as the doors slid open.

The room was absolutely pristine; the lights were dimmed to a romantic pink but not darkened enough to hide the plain details- glowing cyberrose petals scattered across the shared berth, which had been perfectly polished and cleaned, all the scattered datapads and trinkets neatly sorted by size and color and tucked away on the shelves, leaving the desk completely clear save for a small speaker that was playing what Cyclonus recognized as a love song- in Old Cybertronian, straight off the radios from the Golden Age itself. Even Scourge’s messy corner of the room had been reorganized and boxed up, which was a relief because the flier had been dreading cleaning up that mess for weeks. The window was so clear one might not even suspect it was there- had it been cleaned from the outside, too?

Cyclonus just stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it in, and Scourge masked a scowl as the culprit for this lavish display came into view, throwing a cleaning rag into a bin in the corner.

“Hello, Cyclonus.” the minibot said, his visor dimmed almost seductively. “Oh, and Scourge. Hi. I cleaned up the place a little.”

“Is this- where did you find this music?” Cyclonus asked softly. “I thought it lost to time and war.”

“Let’s just say being friends with Rewind has its perks, Cyc.” Tailgate smiled, coming up to him to take his hand. “I cleaned up your staring window, too, do you like it?”

“I do, Tailgate. Thank you.”

“Oh, so you cleaned the room- big deal, little mech. What about it?” Scourge snarked, brushing the petals off the berth and sitting down. But Tailgate wasn’t listening- Cyclonus definitely wasn’t either. He was standing by that stupid window with a sappy smile on his face, listening to Tailgate go on about what a good cleaning job he had done. This simply would not do!

Sigh. At least the minibot had cleaned up his mess at well. And he wouldn’t admit it, but he had a soft spot for the music, too…

“So you’re going to recharge? That sounds nice, I think I’ll join you.” Tailgate said. “After a good long day of cleaning, a little shut-optic seems great. How ‘bout you, Scourge? Gonna recharge?”

Scourge shot him the stink-eye as Cyclonus pulled Tailgate into berth and cuddled up tightly against him. He needed more ideas on how to upstage that quirky little mini- but for now, he’d have to sleep on it.

Against Cyclonus’s objections, he had let Tailgate pull him to another of Swerve’s EarthDances. Their bartender really did have a love for this festival of organic culture, which was made very evident by the fact that there had been three others like this since the first one. Cyclonus didn’t mind chaperoning his minibot on these outings, but dances really were not within his comfort zone…

He was stooped over, his hands in Tailgate’s, trying to emulate the dance the minibot was teaching him clumsily, and for what it was worth, Tailgate was having a lot of fun, showing him the ropes like this.

“Thanks for coming out with me like this, Cyc! You’re doing great, you know that?” Tailgate beamed up at him, and Cyclonus offered him a small smile in response. “Okay, and now we spin, to your le- eh?!”

Cyclonus suddenly found his attention being diverted as a painted hand took his chin and pulled him to face- ah, Scourge. In a sudden whirl of wings, he found his hands being torn away from Tailgate’s and pulled into the flier’s grasp, a cheeky look crossing his face.

“Sorry, Tailgate! Lemme just have this one real quick!” Scourge laughed. “I’ll return him after this song!”

“Hey!” came the indignant cry of the slighted minibot, but Scourge had already spun them away into the crowd, pulling one of Cyclonus’s hands onto his shoulders and clasping the other between his talons.

“Scourge, you should’ve just asked me for a dance, there was no need to tear me away like that.” Cyclonus scolded his partner, but Scourge laughed it off.

“Shh. Step forward where I step back, back where I step forward, and mirror my moves.” The flier said quickly, leaning in real close with a smirk. Before Cyclonus could respond, Scourge put a hand on his waist, and pulled him into the dance.

Scourge’s pace was far faster than Tailgate’s, and far, far more sensual. His wings spread and wrapped around to shield the two from the crowd’s jostling bodies and prying eyes, and suddenly, Cyclonus could feel his faceplates heating up as they swayed to the beat. Scourge’s face was just inches from his, his optics focused only on his own aversive ones. Cyclonus would never admit it, but… maybe he did have a little bit of a soft spot for dancing, he thought, as his partner pulled his hand up and into a spin. Where did he have the time to learn all this?

The thought made him miss a step in their fast-paced sashay, but Scourge compensated excellently, stepping right around him and pulling him into another spin, which this time ended with him all wrapped up in Scourge’s arms and wings.

“Having fun yet?” He whispered in his audials from behind. Cyclonus was too shocked to answer, and Scourge chuckled and pulled them back into form. Over Cyclonus’s shoulder, Scourge noticed a little blue-and-white mech elbowing his way through the crowd- Tailgate, and he did not look happy. Scourge kept him out of Cyclonus’s line of sight, and when the two mechs locked optics, he stuck his glossa out at his little competitor teasingly.

The song was quickly crescendoing, rushing to its loud, symphonic ending, and Scourge realized his time was almost up. He had to make these last seconds count.

Cyclonus blushed as Scourge picked up the pace again, whirling him around in the ebb and flow of a thousand steps as the world dimmed down to just his frame alone- just him and Scourge, dancing as one. Cyclonus’s spark skipped a few pulses as their optics locked for the first time that night.

And then Scourge swept him off his feet, the floor rushing up to meet him just as strong hands wrapped around his body and Cyclonus found himself tightly wrapped up in a romantic dip straight out of Rewind’s holovid nights.

The song wound down, drawing to a close, as the next tune faded in.

“Well, I’ve never seen a sorrier sight than a sad little minibot.” Whirl remarked, bumbling up to the edge of the scene. "Jealous, panic button?”

Tailgate turned to find the ex-Wrecker watching his two partners alongside him, Scourge laughing at Cyclonus’s starstruck expression as he swept the crowd for the minibot. Tailgate quickly pulled Whirl back into the thick of the party before they could be spotted.

“Whirl, you’re close with Cyclonus,” he said, dimming his visor bitterly. “I need your help with something.”

Whirl’s optic widened in excitement, giddy at seeing the jealous determination filling the minibot’s frame.

“Oh, I’d be glad to help! Whaddaya need from me?”

“CYCLONUS! Cyclonus, wake up! Cyclonus, get out of your room! Cyclonus, I know you can hear me!” Whirl slammed his claws on the hab door with a screech. Cyclonus sighed and got up from his desk, walking over to open it for his friend.

“Get outta here, Whirl, you’re disturbing our reading.” Scourge had gotten there first, opening it just a crack to tell the ex-Wrecker off. Whirl took the opportunity to slide his claws in between the door crack, levering it open to find Cyclonus watching the whole debacle go down.

“Cyclonus! Cyclonus! Come get drinks with me!” Whirl screeched. “I just out-bet Jackpot in a contest of seeing when Ultra Magnus would rearrange his desk, drinks are on me! Or… well, not, because you have Scourge as a sugar daddy, but-”

“Whirl, shut up.” Scourge squinted, pressing the controls to shut the door on his pincers. To his surprise, though, Cyclonus stopped him.

“You won’t give me peace either way. I’ll go, but I’m not staying long.” Cyclonus conceded, pushing his way through the door as Whirl cheered in success. “You go back to what you were doing, Scourge, I can handle him from here.”

“No, no, I’m- I’m suddenly quite thirsty, now that I think about it, I think I’ll come along.” Scourge said, following the two out and taking Cyclonus’s hand in his. “I can buy us all drinks, since I’m- whatever Whirl said. Sugar- something.”

“Aw, sweet! Free drinks! I can save even more of my winnings!” Whirl cheered as they made their way down the hall. “Hey, y’all wanna spar after this? All three of us? It’s been like, two days since I’ve gotten into a fight with either of you, and I’m getting all antsy. And I wanna see what you guys fight like drunk.”

“I suppose, but would it not be wise to spar fi-”

“Shush, I’m thirsty. And we’re here anyways.”

Cyclonus shrugged, and made his way inside.

The bar was- well, uncharacteristically empty. Swerve was up at the bartop serving, but there were only one or two others sitting in the booths, which was odd for this time of the cycle. He turned to say something to Scourge, but just as he did he found the flier ripped from his grasp in a quick, blue blur.

“What th- Whirl!” Scourge yelped as the heli grappled him and dragged him out of the bar, tackling him to the ground just outside.

“Don’t ruin this for the little guy!” Whirl hissed in his optics. And then the bar doors slammed shut.

“What is the meaning of this? Scourge, Whirl?” Cyclonus raised his arm to draw his sword, but found his grasp empty as the lights turned off, two-by-two. “Swerve, what is this?”

“What is this, you ask?” A voice echoed from the bartop, but the voice wasn’t Swerve’s. A single spotlight suddenly flickered on, revealing the culprit sat sultrily atop the counter. “I suppose you could say a dance, just… a little more private.”

“Tailgate! Is this one of your ‘pranks’?” Cyclonus rushed up to meet his mini, but Tailgate gestured him to stop. And then he raised his arm, the other tucked behind his back, and then there was… music.

Where the hell was this music coming from? Spotlights from all around the room suddenly illuminated a small band of mechs, all wielding a different instrument, setting the scene. Then Tailgate began to slink up to him, revealing the contents of his other hand. A microphone.

“I wouldn’t try and throw myself away, if you asked me… I’d say~” The mini’s voice was clear and bright but seductive, and if that wasn’t a feat in itself, Cyclonus suddenly registered that he was singing in Old Cybertronian, too.

“To be careful, my love, at death we’ll leave the same, if you want me~” If this was an old song, he didn’t recognize it at all. Either Tailgate had dug up an entirely different song from their era, or he’d composed this piece in a language he barely spoke, and organized an entire band to play it for him. He didn’t know which flattered him more. “To stay- don't keep me waiting for it~”

The mini was just a meter away from him, the spotlight following his every move, as he offered a hand to his lover. Cyclonus took it gingerly, and the spotlight turned pink. Tailgate’s gaze on him was bold and piercing, like he was staring right into his spark itself. Is this what it felt like to be courted, he wondered?

Tailgate gripped his hand firmly, slowly turning him in a circle all while he sang, his optics dimmed sweetly before he ditched the microphone altogether, and Cyclonus swept him up into his arms, slowly rocking him back and forth to the melody.

”I see us dancing by ourselves, we do it better with no one around, yeah-” By the second chorus, Cyclonus was humming along to the song, holding Tailgate close to his spark. And by the third repetition, he knew enough of it to sing the song back to Tailgate, their voices melding and dancing together in a more beautiful harmony than Cyclonus could ever muster with his frame.

Tailgate gestured upwards and the music came to a swell, and he leapt out of Cyclonus’s arms- landing on the floor without so much as missing a beat, impressive- and quickly made his way to the bartop again, gesturing Cyclonus over to sit, to which Cyclonus followed, enchanted. And as the music started to die down, Tailgate climbed into his lap, singing the final fading stanzas sweetly into Cyclonus’s audials.

“I really love you, Cyclonus.” The minibot whispered in his audials, still in Old Cybertronian. If Cyclonus hadn’t been spellbound by this gesture before, he certainly was now. Tailgate pulled back from the side of his helm to give him a loving look before slowly leaning in, and Cyclonus took his cue, meeting him in the middle.

Outside the bar, Scourge and Whirl were still struggling.

“What in the name of Crystal City is Tailgate doing?” Scourge said, trying to roll Whirl off of his back. “Let me in there and see for myself!”

“No, no, this is personal. And Tailgate was here first, so you can beat it, scrub!”

“I have literally known Cyclonus for twice the length of Tailgate’s life, coma included.” Scourge grumbled. “Dated him for almost that long, too. Ain’t no way I’m letting that shortstack steal him away!”

“Well, maybe you should cool it, tough guy. You really gonna let that pipsqueak get under your plating like that? Gonna let the little bitty bot live in your head rent-free?” Whirl teased. “Cyclonus likes you plenty! Let him have some quality time with his other babe, will ya?”

Scourge mustered up the strength to buck Whirl off and scrambled to his feet.

“Waitwaitwait! You can’t possibly be serious about thinking-” Whirl shouted as Scourge dashed for the door. “And I thought it was you of all people who knew that Cyclonus isn’t that shallow!”

Scourge hesitated.

“Don’t be an insecure chump! You really think he’d just choose one of you over the other on a whim like that?” Whirl nearly yelled. “C’mon. Think about it, would he really? He has you both, you all share a room and a berth and all that slag- you really think he’s only choosing Tailgate over you? Hell, aren’t you choosing him over Tailgate, even? You’re dating the both of them, right?”

“... You’re right. Yeah. It’s our game, I suppose. Wouldn’t be fair to play dirty like that.” Scourge conceded, slumping against the door. “Though hiring help is a little dirty, don’t you think?”

“I dunno. It’s your problem. I’m down to help you with your own issues if you want. I’m just in it for the drama and the free drinks.” Whirl shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess… well, I got a little carried away. To be fair, you tackled me, so…” Scourge replied. “But- you, uh, have a point.”

“Of course I do! … Which one, again?”

“Choosing Cyclonus over Tailgate.” Scourge sighed. “ I need to keep sight of the big picture, too. That it’s the little guy I chose as well.”

“Yup. I knew it- I’m always right.” Whirl cackled. “Oh, and how you lovebirds wouldn’t survive a day without me-! Anyways, the doors will probably unlock shortly. They’re not really doing anything raunchy in there, just a little bit of song and dance and there’ll be drinks at the end. Off your card, obviously.”

Scourge chuckled quietly. “Course. I signed up for that myself.”

“See? That’s the spirit. C’mon, get up, sounds like they’re wrapping up anyways. You don’t wanna look bad in front of your-not one, but two- boyfriends, would ya?” Whirl laughed, helping him to his feet. Scourge smiled and shook his head, standing once more.

“I’m still going to outdo Tailgate for this one. I’m not letting him win Cyclonus’s favor one way or another.” He said, stretching his wings. “I’m surprised you guys even managed to clear out Swerve’s for this.”

“I’m surprised you let Swerve have access to your bank account without any restrictions.” Whirl laughed. “I wouldn’t be too surprised, though, if drinks here cost triple for the night…”

“Oh, you son-of-a-glitch, you did not-”

“You’re technically right; Tailgate did all the talking.”

“I’m going to strangle that twerp.” Scourge chuckled, as the doors unlocked and finally opened again. From across the room, Tailgate shot him a smug look from Cyclonus’s lap, overpriced energon martini in hand, and the game was back to its usual parameters. It was Scourge’s turn to impress. Maybe it was his turn to think about his other partner, too.

“And look at the new board I got! Isn’t it neat? It’s got twice the flying speed and four times the control-” Tailgate bragged, doing a spin on the newest model of hoverboard he had just obtained. “Oh, man, there really is no shore leave like a marketplace shore leave!”

The rest-stop on this planet had proved to be quite fruitful. The couple had managed to escape the bustle of the locally-renowned Cerulean marketplace, not knowing where the rest of their crew members were amongst the locals, and were now showing off their spoils of war. It was quite refreshing to be on a planet with native cybernetic inhabitants again, but crowds had never been Cyclonus’s thing.

“It is a fine craft- though you may wish to use it sparingly in the halls if you are going to be zipping around at that pace.” Cyclonus chuckled, as his minibot flew circles around him at top speed. “Perhaps it is about time we headed back to the ship, then?”

“CYCLONUS!”

A familiar hovercraft dropped out of the sky and landed right by the pair, Scourge’s smug face was lit up with excitement, clutching a long, polished box that was almost as tall as he was.

“Ah, Scourge, you found us. It was about time.” Cyclonus said, greeting his partner with an embrace. “We’re headed back to the ship. Will you join us?”
“Hey, what’s in the box? Must’ve been a pain to transport, whatever it is…” Tailgate asked. The box, which Scourge had set down to hug Cyclonus, was simple but beautifully polished, closed by a single latch on the side. It was made of some kind of slightly iridescent woody substance, and was far longer than it was tall or wide. Scourge grinned deviously, turning to take it back into his arms and present it to Cyclonus. Tailgate guessed it wasn’t so heavy, either.

“Ah, yes- a gift for you, Cyclonus. Well, not so much a gift but a service, but- I hope it will suffice. And you should open it right now!”

“A… service?”

“Just open the box, you’ll see.”

All three bots watched in anticipation as Cyclonus undid the latch, prying the box open, to reveal… a Great Sword.

“Ta-da! I heard this planet had some exceptional sword-smiths…”

“Scourge, is this my Great Sword?” Cyclonus lifted the weapon out of its casing, looking it over. “I’ve been looking for this- so you’re the one who took it?”

“Why, yes, it is, and yes I did! Do you like it?”

It didn’t take a keen eye to see that the sword had been carefully looked after. Years of battle damage to its blade and hilt were completely gone, each slash and chip carefully repaired and polished to the point that the sword might as well be brand new. Cyclonus ran a careful claw-tip over the blade, and found it sharp enough to immediately draw energon, nearly slicing his fingertip off.

“Whoa, be careful, Cyc!” Both Tailgate and Scourge both chimed in unison.

“I’m fine. This is- Scourge, I’ve never seen a blade so sharp. Where did you get this refurbished?”

“Mm- that’s a secret. But I have been told that your sword is now officially molecularly sharpened- oh, and the nexus in the hilt is running at almost 110 percent efficiency, too- I found a specialist- make of that what you will.”

“This- thank you, Scourge. This was a very thoughtful service.” Cyclonus was almost at a loss for words, a bright smile breaking out across his face. Scourge glanced down at Tailgate smugly as the jet leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Wow, so you really did just steal Cyc’s sword for all that? You know how much angst it gave him coming down here without a weapon, right?” Tailgate leered as the three of them began their trek back to the Lost Light.

“Well, he would’ve been safe anyway. I trust you would’ve protected him, right?” Scourge quipped back. “Besides, now he can be extra safe, now that his blade’s extra deadly.”

“You two, stop bickering. The amount of ‘angst’ I felt over being unarmed matters not, for it is in the past now. It was merely an extra layer of security.” Cyclonus interjected, lugging the box over his shoulder awkwardly.

“Yeah, still-”

“Tailgate, leave it.”

The minibot huffed in annoyance after having been shut down, crossing his arms with a scoff. Scourge chuckled and crossed over to walk between him and Cyclonus, pulling another small box out of subspace to be placed on Tailgate’s head as the two fliers clasped their hands together.

“Wha- Scourge? I’m not carrying your stuff for you!” The box dropped into Tailgate’s arms and he immediately shoved it back towards the flier, which the mech refused.

“No, that one’s for you. Open it! I’m like, 90 percent sure you’ll love it!”

Tailgate gave him a stare, but tentatively pulled the lid off the package.

“Oh. Oh!

“So there was this vendor, selling these little ornate music boxes for like, half-off… I saw the goods and thought you’d be interested. No need to thank me, I know I’m an amazing boyfriend.”

“Wow, thanks, Scourge! That’s more thoughtful of you than I’d thought.” Tailgate held the little blue box up to the light, marvelling at the delicate golden trim and cloud-speckled paintings on the side. There was a little crank on the side of the box, and when he wound it up, the box opened up to reveal a little model of the native citiscape, accompanied by a tingly Cerulean folk-tune. Tailgate had to admit- he did like his pretty little souvenirs.

Tailgate glanced up at Scourge to thank him again, as he placed the box carefully into his subspace, but the mech was already deep in conversation with Cyclonus. Tailgate shrugged, not wanting to interrupt the two. Maybe he’d thank Scourge again later.

A nasty crack startled both minibot and hovercraft as Cyclonus winced in pain silently.

“What in Warrior’s Gate was that? Did you just break a piston?” Scourge shuddered, as Cyclonus pinched at the point of pain.

“I’m just old, Scourge. Old and a little bit stiff.” Cyclonus responded. “I don’t suppose regularly sparring Whirl has been of any help, either.”

“Stiff, huh?” Tailgate jumped in. “You should’ve said so! I could help with that.”

The mini hopped to his feet and was by Cyclonus’s side in three bounds before Scourge could suggest a plan of action.

“I learned some cues from Ratchet from when I had Cybercrosis. He said massaging stressed circuits and wires could help ease the pain a little. Show me where it hurts?”

“I’m alright, Tailgate.”

Alright is not acceptable when you’re in pain, Cyc, c’mon. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”

Cyclonus sighed, and popped open a panel on the back of his arm, revealing tangly bunches of wires and a stressed-looking circuit.

“This is the point of most pain.”

Tailgate immediately got to work, his little fingers reaching in and detangling what he could, pressing delicately into the jet’s internal workings. Cyclonus breathed a groan of relief almost immediately- the feeling of the alleviated tension almost tangible in the air.

Tailgate was deft with his servos- quick to gauge what Cyclonus reacted well or badly to, and within the minute, had entirely detangled his arm. Closing the panel back up, Cyclonus moved it around carefully- noting that the tightness that had plagued him for so long in that arm was mostly gone. He had to wonder if Tailgate had taken Ratchet’s hands, too, along with his advice.

The mini, however, had wasted no time in feeling around Cyclonus’s other arm, and Cyclonus quietly popped its panels open, leaving Tailgate to work his magic.

“You had Cybercrosis, Tailgate? How are you not dead?” Scourge asked, smouldering quietly in the corner. He would offer to come help Cyclonus as well, but his servos were extremely clawed and would almost certainly do more damage than good to his lover. Curse that minibot and his blunt little digits.

“I, uh, got better…?” Tailgate laughed, stroking his fingers over tender servos and fuel lines inside. “Namely because of Cyc, but I gotta thank the Doc and Swerve for finding a cure as well.”

“Mhm. A cure for, well, literal old age… this ship never ceases to baffle me.” Scourge said, glowering at Cyclonus’s blissed-out face. That mech had probably never even thought about getting his aches checked out, the stubborn glitch. Scourge made a mental note to see if he had any other frame-related problems, and opted to find a way to fix them before Tailgate did.

“Jealous, Scourge?”

This time it was Cyclonus who was taunting him? The jet had met his gaze as he had zoned out and was staring right into his optics with an amused look.

“You’ve been staring at me quite intently with that look on your face. Do you want something? A massage, perhaps?” Cyclonus continued. Scourge scoffed and shook his head quickly.

“You know, if you want a massage too, all you gotta do is ask.” Tailgate laughed, moving his attention to Cyclonus’s upper shoulders and drawing out a satisfied growl in response.

“I do not need a massage.”

“Need is different from want. And look at Cyclonus, he didn’t want one. And look at him now!” Tailgate replied. Scourge couldn’t deny it- the air of relaxation surrounding those two was quite tantalizing. And well- he was rather old and stiff himself, he figured. “Yeah, actually, I’ve made up my mind. You’re next, whether you like it or not, flyboy.”

“Flyboy? Of all the bad nicknames-”

“Ssshhh. Just come sit over here, I’ll do you next.”

“Nah, I’ll stay put right here.”

“You may lie in my lap if you come over here.” Cyclonus offered.

Scourge didn’t think twice to change his mind.

“So, what are your problems with each other?”

Tailgate’s gentle ministrations along Scourge’s back stopped, and the mech sprawled out over Cyclonus’s lap stiffened slightly.

“Tailgate and I don’t have any problems- what makes you think that?” Scourge asked.

“You two have had this ongoing feud for months. I don’t know if you were trying to keep it a secret from me, but I have noticed.” Cyclonus continued. “After all, it is quite hard to ignore the deluge of gifts, favors, and affections you both quite un-subtly bestow upon me.”

Tailgate’s hands picked up where they left off as the mini let out a small giggle.

“Oh, it’s really nothing. I just gotta make my boyfriend feel real special sometimes, ya know?” He shrugged. “And it’s not like I don’t treat Scourge, either- heck, I’m massaging him right now!”

“Tailgate has said all that I would have said.” Scourge replied. “It wouldn’t be love if I showed a little bit of affection every now and- ohh- right there, Primus…” He sighed as Tailgate pressed his fingers into a particularly knotted cluster of wires just below one of his wings.

“Hah- it’s alright, you can just call me Tailgate.”

“I can’t believe you two.” Cyclonus sighed. “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you were vying for my affection.”

Both mini and flier were silent.

“Don’t tell me that’s exactly what it is.” Cyclonus sighed.

“Okay, we won’t tell you.”

“Tailgate- Scourge- you are aware that no amount of romantic bribery will win you favor over one another? I love you both equally, perhaps differently but equally nonetheless. You two mean the world to me already.”

“Romantic bribery- I like that term.” Scourge remarked with a laugh.

“Are you suuuuuure you don’t have a favorite?” Tailgate asked, rolling his hands over Scourge’s wings. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel even slightly moved by that serenade I had arranged, back at Swerve’s. Remember that?”

“I do remember, my love- and I was very moved. It was very well composed- I am still surprised about where you found the orchestra for that, much less the mechs to play it.”

“That’s cute. You know full well that if Cyc has a favorite, it’s me.” Scourge said. “Right, Cyc?”

“As I told you before-” Cyclonus sighed. “I appreciate the favors, but your attempts to ‘win me over’ the other are fruitless. I would suggest you save your efforts and spoil each other instead.”

“Mmyeah, I suppose…” Scourge sighed. “But that takes the fun out of the game, don’t you think?”

“So this is a game, now?”

“I guess it is.” Tailgate shrugged. “It wasn’t at first, I was totally trying to beat Scourge’s aft. But that’s water under the bridge.”

“Yeah- water, and a couple dozen free drinks.” Scourge scoffed back.

“That’s beside the point! You offered, anyways.” Tailgate slapped the flier in the wing playfully. “And Cyclonus, you can’t say you’re not enjoying this, too!”

“Yeah, Cyc, you really can’t say you haven’t been enjoying being pampered- c’mon, I can feel you fighting back a smile from down here… don’t deny it! You love this just as much as we do.” Scourge chimed in, his wings fluttering in glee.

Cyclonus opened his mouth to retort, realized he had no words to fight back with, and let out a sigh. But the smile crept across his face anyway, and he pressed a kiss to the top of Tailgate’s helm, and then to Scourge’s wings.

“You are regrettably correct, you two…” Cyclonus grinned. “And perhaps it would do me some good to spoil you two as well.”

“Nono! Don’t you dare!” Scourge stopped him in his tracks. “No, this is just how it is now. We’re gonna keep on spoiling you till the end of time, y’hear? You just sit tight, sweetspark. It’s how we play.”

“Yeah, and you’d better enjoy it!” Tailgate bantered back. “We certainly are!”

“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” Cyclonus sighed, but with both of his lovers in his lap with him, he made no more effort to argue. If this was the way the two were going to bond, no matter how strange, then so be it.