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It’s been a long shift, not a bad one mind you, just long. Tailgate didn’t really have an assigned job, no one on the Lost Light except for the Command Staff did. But Drift had told him after he had first woken up all repaired, that they could always use more hands keeping the ship looking nice.
He had also gone on about saying how cleaning was relaxing for the spark and a nice way to meditate while moving but the minibot had mostly tuned out at that, lost into the spiral of “six million vorns have past!”
Drift wasn’t on the Lost Light anymore though, but Tailgate still heeded his advice. Dedicating one whole shift an orn to cleaning or tidying one section of the Lost Light along with some of the ship’s drones.
And Drift was right, Tailgate normally found himself feeling a little more relaxed after a shift of hard work. He found that whenever he was feeling upset, he would flutter around his berth room, polishing and sweeping things until Cyclonus grunted at him to stop or the room sparkled. More often than not he was ushered over to Whirl's room to organize and clean the mess of clock parts, something both Tailgate and Whirl enjoyed because Whirl could ramble on about the function of the parts or something while Tailgate cleaned. It was something about seeing a surface or object shine where it didn’t before that made his spark lighter. Like he was making a change in the world no matter how small.
Or maybe it was his function that made the mindless tasks enjoyable? He knew that Functionalism made thinking that a cleaning bot should enjoy cleaning kinda negative, but back when he first onlined it was normal thinking for a bot of his status. Once Rewind found out what he does with a good chunk of his time, the other mini was worried. That involved a whole lesson about what Functionalism was, why it's bad, and why he should try other things.
So Tailgate did try other things. He tried monitor duty with Blaster, but that just ended up as an extra nap time 'cause it was so boring. There was that brief stint as a medical helper, and while he was was good at comforting the patients, he didn’t do well with handling injuries. He couldn’t keep up with the stress of being a waiter for Swerve, and wasn’t “classy” enough to help Mirage as a bartender. The last job he tried was some minor tasks on the command deck, but that ended up with a trip to the med-bay. Let's just say that Whirl was involved, the navigational system never was the same, and both the mini and the wrecker were banned from stepping onto the command deck again unless ordered.
So it's safe to say that Tailgate went back to Drift’s suggestion and kept the ship in top condition. Ultra Magnus was so pleased with his work that he let Tailgate have complete control over the cleaning drones’ main AI. A position that, before the war, was the highest station a janitorial bot like him could have! They were the head of sanitation, the bots that no other servants would mess with. These mechs, depending on where they worked, often had the audial of the Big Bot In Charge, or those close to them. All it took was a little frown or smile from them with a name drop to change a disposable class bot’s life.
This was one of the first things he learned back when he first onlined. It was right after he was registered and assigned a function, that he was sent to go work for some Big Important Noble at his company main office. This was supposedly a good position, as the noble allowed them to recharge and refuel in the dorm rooms he had installed in the basement of the company.
He was following his own head sanitation worker, Streetsweep, around like a dynamo-duckling as the elder babbled about the building they were in charge of keeping clean. He taught Tailgate the fastest ways to get around the building unseen, all the mechs to avoid, all the mechs to be extra nice too, why it was so nice to not ever have to leave the building they were in charge of, and meeting all of the other sanitation bots he’d be working with.
During the first two weeks of Tailgate’s life, he quickly learned what a bot of his status can or can’t do. Even though his life was going to be hard, it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be enjoyable. Music, he had learned, was something of a favourite hobby of many of the lower class bots. After that long first day, he remembered the joyful wink Streetsweep had given him while handing over a data-disk; a copy of his personal music collection, to ‘help the shifts pass quickly’.
Tailgate still had that data-disk after he woke up, much to Blaster’s delight when he found out it was still in good condition. The boombox had given him a small collection of old Earth music to listen to as thanks for sharing something that had been lost in the sands of time and war. The Earthen music was also a way to help give some cultural education to the minibot, who was, like with most things modern, lost on all of the Earthen cultural references the mechs aboard the ship made.
The songs were also very catchy and bouncy, making the mini feel energetic as he bustled around the ship. It was nothing like the stuff Streetsweep had given him, that mech enjoyed stuff that would be heard at a place like Mirage’s or what Ultra Magnus liked to play as he was helping Tailgate study for the Autobot exam. Tailgate found that the Earthen music was much easier to listen to and timing his movements to the beat of the songs made cleaning even more enjoyable.
Currently, the mini was among the lower decks, guiding one of the drones to weld a crack in the wall and and the rest to sweep, dust and mop. He himself was waxing the newly cleaned floors by servo, enjoying the way he could see himself in some of the tiles.
He’d been at this for several groons, all with his audials switched off to ignore the chaos of the drones, and listening to the Earthen music files on his internal systems. The song currently playing was one of his favourites, a bouncy song by some human femme named Madonna. Swerve had said she was really popular when the Autobots first arrived, and Tailgate could see why. She sang songs about love and the beat was so easy to move to. Kinda reminded him of one of the Rosanna tracks he had on that original data-disk. Something about the music just made it so easy to hum along too, something he didn’t realize he was doing as the mini focused on polishing this one tough spot of tile.
What was with this tile? It had to be a rough patch up job that no one bothered to fix, it was all bumpy and uneven and just wasn't talking to the wax, maybe if he got a drone to sand it down a little to make it more even, or to coat it in a thin layer of paint sealant? Would that make the surface easier to polish? It would still be uneven but at least it would shine and make it less noticeable. Maybe he should request Ultra Magnus for some more replacement tiles. With all the drama and damage the Lost Light went through, they really needed more replacement pieces. But, this was a lower level, so maybe it wasn’t on such a high priority for tile replacement? He sent a request message over his comm system anyway, it wasn’t a formal request but he didn’t think Ultra Magnus would mind too much.
::Tailgate! Buddy can you hear me now?:: The blue and white mini screamed and jumped in shock at the sudden comm. He glanced around a little panicked until he saw Swerve standing behind him, looking bemused with his servos on his hip plating. Oh that was embarrassing, how long had he been standing there for? Tailgate must not have felt the vibrations of his steps because of the drone welding a little behind him. With a quick click he paused the music and flicked on his audials.
“Oh hey Swerve, what are you doing down here? Oh! Am I in your way?” The mini panicked a bit and made to move over to the side of the hallway, not realizing that he was in the middle of the space and noticing a large crate on a hover-lift behind his friend. With a quick wave of his servo, all the other cleaning droids collected their cleaning supplies and moved aside as well.
“Hey don't worry about it, I was just grabbing a new shipment of engex from one of the storage rooms. We were running short upstairs in the bar and I needed the break to stretch my legs, so Bluestreak is handling the place for me.”
The other mini looked amused at Tailgate, eyeing his little personal army of cleaning droids behind him. “So is this where you go every orn? To go clean the lower levels? No wonder no one can find ya ever. Ya'know you really don't have to do that, the drones got everything covered without needing someone to watch over them for a shift?”
It was here that Swerve paused his rambling with a thumb pointing over at one of the said drones beside them and Tailgate gave a sheepish nod. “I know, I just don’t like sitting around all orn. I like to keep busy.”
Swerve shrugged, “Whatever floats your boat, my mech. Hey, why were your audials off? The welding isn't that loud? Oh, wait, that reminds me of what I wanted to talk to you about in the first place!”
The red mini lunged over to grasp one of Tailgate’s servos, startling his friend, “Where did you learn to sing like that buddy! It was amazing! I never would’ve thought that your voice could sound so smooth, what with how squeaky you are all the time,” Swerve teased, his optic band almost glittering with excitement, which was a little confusing to the other mini.
“Oh, umm yeah I guess? I had a friend from, uh, before that used to sing with me, but we were never any good.” Here, Tailgate shrugged a little, mostly out of embarrassment but also just stating the truth.
He knew a bot that visited the office building’s head accountant a lot, and they would sing on occasion and it was the most beautiful thing Tailgate had ever heard to this day. Streetsweep had told him he was some big shot Vosian Crooner, a singer that only sang for nobles and elite mechs, so to enjoy those brief moments.
Ever since, he tried to copy the mech’s voice when he was cleaning alone. Streetsweep was the only bot who knew, and he always encouraged Tailgate’s hobby and even put some songs of that genre onto that music data-disk. As long as it didn’t get in the way of work or offend any of the Boss Bots, he and Streetsweep would practice singing those songs late into the orn. Recently though, Cyclonus would help him with singing lessons, and he seemed to really enjoy listening to Tailgate attempt Tetrahexian Chant. None of the other bots on the Lost Light seemed to enjoy the singing though, even Whirl. Though, the wrecker made sure to pick a fight with anybot he caught insulting his Trine's hobby. “I didn’t notice I was doing it now, sorry.”
“No don’t apologize! It was really good! I haven’t heard a voice like that since before the War!” Swerve exclaimed, almost bouncing on his pedes. “I bet bots would pay just to listen to you sing! Which would be great for a bar business, let me tell you.” His tone turned a little sly as he gripped Tailgate’s servo harder. “Come sing at my bar for a night! I bet the bots would love it and I’ll give you free drinks for the nights you sing too, huh? How about it!”
Tailgate was floored, Swerve wanted him to sing in front of a crowd? Was he crazy? “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Swerve,” He nervously glanced around, hoping to find a way to escape the conversation.
He had to admit he was a little flattered that Swerve thought he was good enough to sing in front of a crowd. But he had also been the victim of the red and white mini’s pranks before, and was kind of tired of making himself look like a fool in front of the crew. He was sure there was some sort of code the crew used when they saw Tailgate working for Swerve in anyway. Ultra Magnus and Cyclonus always seemed to show up pretty quick and ask if everything is okay or to grill Swerve for information. Tailgate gave a little tug at the servos holding onto his.
The grip steeled. “No no no, buddy I'm serious! Your singing voice is really good and just what I need to get a boost in customers! Mirage,” here the name of the former Towers bot was almost spat, “decided to steal my customers by offering a discount on his high-grade every fifth orn! But! If I have you sing, it’ll definitely attract those traitors back to my bar! I mean, what’s better than a drink and some entertainment! Buddy, please! Free drinks for a whole orn just for a song or two?” Swerve was practically begging, his optic band wide and pleading, dermas wobbling in his pout, as his grip was non-relenting. Tailgate could feel a panic building- if Swerve started crying his own floodgates would open.
“OK! OK, I’ll do it!” Tailgate burst, and almost fell back as Swerve released his servos, and would have fell if he wasn’t swept up in a massive hug from his friend a nano-klik later.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret this buddy! It’s the second shift right now right? How about you come up just before the fourth shift is over? That’ll give you plenty of time to practice what song your gonna wow the crowd with! I’m gonna head up to the bar, put all the engex in storage and make sure Bluestreak hasn’t let my bar fall to ruin without me.” Swerve gave a little chuckle and a wink as he set Tailgate down, patting his friend on the shoulder before bustling past him with his trolly, vanishing almost as quickly as he showed up.
Tailgate was still a little shell shocked that he actually agreed to sing in front of a crowd, and could feel that panic welling. Oh no, what did he get himself into now….
________
The third shift has been over for a couple of kliks, and Tailgate was sitting in a booth at the back of the bar stewing in annoyance. As soon as he had shown up at the almost empty bar during the middle of the third shift, Swerve decided that he didn’t look “showy” enough and had Bluestreak pin the complaining Tailgate down while Swerve buffed and waxed him until he gleamed. Now, Tailgate was sitting in his booth, away from the growing crowd, sipping some drink Swerve promised would help him “loosen up,” shining like some big important mech he pretended to be not so long ago.
It was making him uncomfortable, not used to looking so done up. Especially since he noticed some bots glancing at him with curious and interested optics and it was making his platting crawl. Sure he liked attention, but Getaway left a bad feeling in his spark. Ever since, he hasn't really trusted bots that weren't Cyclonus, Whirl, or any of his friends before the "Getaway Mishaps" who looked at him in interest or certain types of touch. Actually, it took a while and some talks with Rung before he was ok with intimate touch at all, something both his conjux and his amica were great with.
Tailgate sipped at his drink through his silly straw and brushed away the sad thoughts. He had to admit the drink was tasty, a little more silver tarnish than he was used to, giving the drink a more tart flavour. It was still very sweet, which was just how he liked it. If Swerve was going to be nit-picky over this, then Tailgate was going to make the best of a bad situation and drink as much as he wanted!
With that thought in mind he slurped up the rest of the drink in a determined vigour and slammed the glass down. He hopped out of his booth and felt his processor swim at the sudden intake of a lot of highgrade, and strutted his way over to the bar to get another drink.
Tailgate wasn’t as much of a lightweight as he as before- mainly cause of Ratchet upgrading all of his systems after his bought of Cyberosis. So his body could actually process highgrade now without wanting to immediately shut down. He still couldn’t handle a lot, and nothing nearly as strong as what Cyclonus or Whirl liked to drink, but he could keep up with some of the other bots now.
Most importantly, the upgrade helped his systems regulate the high-grade, so he could still function properly, instead of shorting out at the too rich fuel. Meaning, he didn’t walk with a stumble and his optics, instead of blacking out, would focus on something and make the rest of the world just a little fuzzy. Which was good because that meant Tailgate didn’t notice the trail of lust filled optics that followed his little aft as he swayed his way to the bar.
He scooted in between Skids and Brainstorm who were seated at the bar. He placed his empty glass down, gentler than before at his own booth, suddenly a little cowed by the presents of the two bigger bots. He got up on the tips of his pedes and tried to wave down either Bluestreak or Swerve, who were at the other side of the bar chatting with customers or refilled drinks. He didn’t notice Brainstorm eye him up with curious optics, or Skids leaning back a bit to ogle his aft with a hmm of appreciation.
::Do you think he finally managed to snag a date with Cyclonus?:: Skid’s asked Brainstorm over a comm. link, obviously addressing at how good the minibot looked all waxed up. The lights of the bar reflected nicely off his white plating, making him almost seem pearlescent. Like one of the pretty pre-war Towers’ escorts who would hang off the arm of a well-to-do bot, fields’ warm and enticing like sweet energon candy.
::Mmm, maybe.:: Brainstorm sent back, not all that interested in staring at the mini for more than a moment, ::I’m more interested in what that brute is going to do once he sees how everyone is eyeing up what’s finally his.:: The flier took a sip from his drink, smiling in amusement as Skids snapped right back to attention at the thought of what would happen to him if Cyclonus caught him staring at Tailgate’s aft.
By this point Bluestreak had wandered over to refill Tailgate’s drink, chatting happily at the mini. “Oh this is so exciting Tailgate, Swerve had told me all about how pretty you sound and I’m really excited to hear you for myself! Do you know what number you're going to do? Is it an Earth piece? Oh I would really like to hear an Earth number, their music is just so interesting and fun! Not that Cybertronian music isn't fun! Blaster or Jazz would kill me if they ever heard me say something like that. I just mean Earth music is just so much more entertaining and there is so much more variety too-“ Here the grey Praxian was interrupted by Skids.
“Hey, you're gonna sing, Tailgate?” Skids’ tone was a little surprised, but still warm and friendly.
“Oh, yeah, Swerve was pretty keen on making me sing for you guys, something about getting back at Mirage?” Skids made a sound of understanding, he too had been at the other end of that Mirage rant.
“Well, good luck! We’ll be cheering you on from here when you go up!” Skid’s raised his glass in a salute while Brainstrom rolled his optics and mimicked the gesture half heartedly. Bluestreak gave a cheerful thumbs up as well.
Tailgate gave a happy wave to the three bots in thanks before skipping back to his still empty booth. He felt a little better, knowing that there were other bots supporting him in this silly endeavour that wasn’t just Swerve. He hopped back up onto his seat and began to sip at his drink, humming the song he was planning on singing in between sips. The world around him started to fuzz a little bit, the edges of his vision turning into swirls of colourful nothings as the rest of his body hummed in lazy contentment. He didn’t know why he was so anxious before, this was a great plan!
There was a low whistle that caught Tailgate’s attention and he looked up to see Rewind and Chromedome slide into the booth. Rewind’s little red light was on as he visibly looked over Tailgate’s frame.
“Oh wow, Tailgate! You look amazing! What’s the special occasion?” Rewind propped his helm up on his servos. Chromedome just chuckled and placed their drinks onto the table in front of them.
“You do look very nice, is it for this ‘special event’ Swerve is hosting? We got message to make sure to swing by for this shift to see it. Didn’t know it was something that entitled a wax and buff though.”
Tailgate started, “He’s telling people to show up?” Oh Primus! The white mini looked out over the bar and realized that yeah, there was definitely more mechs than normal. Suddenly his nerves kicked right back into high gear. Oh frag, was that Ultra Magnus? He never comes in here! Or at least, not until after Tailgate was already doing what Swerve asked for.
Rewind tilted his helm. “Well yeah, you know Swerve. He has a chance to get more bots coming here than Mirage’s he’s gonna take it. He had Siren telling basically everyone that something was happening at the start of this shift.”
Chromedome snorted, “With how fast Swerve can spread gossip and how loud Siren is, I'm sure the whole ship knew a couple of breems.” He moved to take a sip of his drink and looked around the bar. “It’s really packed though. I’m surprised mechs are showing up after his last attempt at an event night.”
Rewind laughed. The mini pushed Tailgate’s drink towards him, knowing having more engex will curb whatever brought on this look of panic. “I know! ‘Human Games Night’ was a pretty lame idea, but it was fun after a few drinks. I’m still surprised Whirl won the Twister championship though.”
“I’m not, Whirl is really bendy.” Tailgate said off handedly, focusing on slurping down his drink. Because of that he missed the twin looks of curious delight and horror crossing the conjunxed pair’s faces. One of the ship wide betting pools was when Tailgate and Cyclonus were going to get together. Some minor bets included Whirl, and Rewind had good shanix riding on whether Whirl was going to be a part of their conjux or an amica to Cyclonus. So far, everyone on the ship suspected a relationship was under wraps, but no one knew for sure, and were too afraid to ask two thrids of the triad.
Rewind leaned in close. “Tailgate! Why do you know that Whirl’s—“
“Tailgate! There you are, my main mech! Bluestreak told me you were still back here. Come on, let's get this show on the road while the crowd is still here!” Swerve managed to push his way to the secluded booth, ignoring Rewind's annoyed grunt. He began to bully Tailgate out of his seat, while the other mini hastily tried to suck down the rest of his drink. “Hey Rewind, Chromedome! You two are in for a treat tonight! I’d move closer to the front of the stage, ‘Wind. You’re gonna want a front row seat for this one.” The bartender chuckled and tapped at the side of his helm, meaning Rewind’s little camera.
Chromedome just looked concerned. “Swerve, you sure you know what you’re doing? Cyclonus was pretty pissed last time you tricked Tailgate into working for your “Steal Customers From Mirage” schemes. And we passed Ultra Magnus and Megatron on the way over, they didn't look too pleased.”
Rewind waved off his partner. “Are you kidding? That night was amazing! The little human maid outfits were a blast! I still have mechs asking for image stills from that night.”
Swerve stopped, “What? You’ve been selling pictures and not giving me a cut?!” He jabbed a digit in Rewind’s amused face. “You and I are gonna have some words later, my friend.”
Tailgate swayed a little as the drink hit him. “Shouldn’t I get a cut? I was the one in the human outfit. And it felt weird and the cloth kept getting stuck in my transformation seams.” He sounded like he was trying to pout, but to relaxed off of the high-grade buzz.
Swerve patted him on the helm, “No, remember, you said you’d do it for a good cause.” The mini ignored Chromedome’s hiss of “oh that's cold Swerve,” and started to push Tailgate towards the stage. “Chromosome's right! We gotta get this over with before big, mean, purple finds you missing. Or the bar gets shut down. Bye guys! hope you enjoy the show!” He waved at the conjuxed pair and steered the blue and white mini up to the stage.
Tailgate swayed as his stood in the centre of the stage. He was basically tuning out whatever Swerve was saying to get everyone’s attention. His audials felt fuzzy and his optics were burry, not able to focus on a single mech for too long. His frame felt really relaxed too, he was suddenly feeling tired. Oops, guess he shouldn't have had so much enjex.
Gosh, it did look like half the ship was here. Ultra Magnus and Megatron looked concerned when he spotted them, and it looked like they were moving through the packed crowd too get closer to the stage, but Tailgate forgot about it when he let his optics move past them.
Oh look! Whirl was coming closer too! His optics focused enough to see that the heli was sending someone a comm., Tailgate hoped it was Cyclonus. Cyclonus was the best and so nice and willing to be cuddled when the mini and Whirl had too much too drink. Ohh, he wanted to cuddle Cyclonus now, fall into recharge curled up into his side while Whirl would sprawl across their legs and ramble at his amica.
He got nudged out of his happy thoughts. Oh Swerve was talking to him again, better listen. “— let you pick a song from your data-disk, ok?” He was handing him a datapad with glyphs all on it. Tailgate squinted and realized it was his song list!
Oh right! He was supposed to sing! Tailgate nodded and swayed a little more at the movement. He pointed a digit at one of the titles, “This one! I’mma sing this one.”
“Ohhhh, yeah, you had too much to drink. This isn’t gonna end well, but I guess we can’t stop now. Ok, I’m gonna start the song, and you sing. Ok, Tailgate?”
The blue and white mini flashed him a thumbs up and brilliantly bright thrum of biolights. “Got it!”
Swerve gave a slightly less enthusiastic thumbs up, glanced towards the crowd, blanched, and basically ran off the stage. Tailgate reached for the microphone on the stage and popped it out of its stand. Someone started to yell but the music started up on the bar’s speakers and cut them off. The mini dimmed his optics as he began to sway to the music, getting a feel for it.
When the cue hit, Tailgate began to sing. It was one of the Earth songs that Blaster gave him. To him, it sounded like a flatter version of the Vosian Croon genre, but Tailgate guessed it was 'cause humans didn’t have sub-vocals and couldn’t produce the trill the genre was famous for.
The song Tailgate picked was smooth, slow, and something that always made him think of Cyclonus. The notes felt like they were just rolling out of his vocalizer, and he couldn’t help giving a soft rev of his engine at some of the drawn out notes. It gave his voice a little bit of a purr, something content and romantic, making his higher voice sound a little deeper with longing.
As the song continued, Tailgate got more into it. Brightening his optics so he could enjoy the colourful fuzz of lights of the bar blur over the crowd- it made it seem like they weren’t even there. He couldn’t even remember why he was so nervous in the first place. His processor was sleepy from over energizing, and his frame felt as smooth and fluid as the song.
He swayed and twirled, one servo spread out, and Tailgate loved how the colourful bar lights danced off his white plating. It reminded him of that dance after Thunderclash’s non-funeral, and suddenly felt his spark clench with longing for Cyclonus. He wished Cyclonus was up here dancing and singing with him, he might not have liked to do it in front of a crowd, but he loved singing with the mini.
The little bot stopped swaying, right as the song dimmed. Just holding the mic close to him and putting his spark into lyrics. The notes were dragging out now, getting louder and bolder. The mini’s voice swelled with the music, he felt his helm tilt back slightly from the force of the note, lifting the mic up as well to follow in a little arc.
His processor swam as the note ended and he took a quick in-vent. He lowered his helm, and brought the mic back to his front. He felt tired, too warm, too full of engex— he wanted Cyclonus. The song was almost over, so he sang the ending, not realizing how sad the final notes sounded to the hushed and enraptured crowd.
As Tailgate sang the last note, he looked over the crowd, hoping to see a familiar purple blur. It wasn’t until the music stopped and the bar was suddenly so silent that all you could hear was Tailgate’s vague humming that the mini realized everyone was staring at him. Megatron, who was easy to spot since he was so grey and close to the stage, looked like he was seeing Tailgate for the first time, which was weird. The smaller, reddish-yellow shape beside him must have been Rodimus, who looked like he had his mouth open, stunned and speechless.
Oh right, he was singing in front of people. Should he just walk off stage? The mini swayed a little, placing the mic back onto its stand. “Uhh, thanks for listening, I guess? Bye?” With that he moved to hop down off the stage when the entire bar erupted into applause. Tailgate was so startled that he tripped and tumbled down the little ledge.
He was caught before he hit the ground though and the mech helped him to his pedes. Dazed, he looked up and saw Whirl, his big yellow optic sparking over, dripping coolant and warm with emotion.
“Squeaky! I knew you and horn-head sang together, but I had no idea you could sing like that.”
“That's cause Cyc and I sing Tetrahexian Chant, not Vosian Croon. He says it sound stuffy and pretentious.” Tailgate gave Whirl a happy, tired, hug.
The bigger bot snorted, “That fragger has no right to say those words.” Tailgate could feel Whirl curl a little over him, his alt’s cockpit pressing onto the top of the mini’s hood. The one claw that wasn’t curled around him protectively snapped at the surrounding bots, who were rushing up to speak to the little singer. “Hey, I think I see Cyc over by the bar doors. How about we blow this joint, huh?”
Tailgate nodded sleepily into Whirl’s stomach, and was gently scooped up. The mini rested his helm near Whirl’s neck, dimming his optics and curling his body around the Wrecker’s cockpit. Going back to their berth room sounded nice. If Whirl was coming over, then maybe he and Cyclonus would push the berths together and they can all cuddle together. Cyclonus liked having his amica over, even if he never said it, and Tailgate loved the extra cuddle warmth the heli gave off. Cyclonus told him once something about Seeker coding, and finding comfort in Trines and Trine bonds, but Tailgate didn’t really get it. Whirl did though, and the mini remembered that it was the second time he saw Whirl cry. The mech stayed in their berth room for ons after and has acted softer towards Cyclonus and Tailgate both.
“Tailgate, you drank too much again.” The voice was rough and quite, but it roused Tailgate from his dozing anyway.
“Swerve let me have free drinks.” His voice was staticky with sleep and didn’t bother brightening his optics. Instead he flopped a servo towards the voice, ignoring the chuckles he got when it smacked lightly on Whirl’s chassis.
His servo was delicately picked up in a larger one. There was the briefest of pressures placed on the back of it, and Tailgate hummed contently, knowing it was a kiss. “Do you want me to carry you or are you fine where you are?” The voice sounded a little amused. Hidden mostly under all the gravel and growls, but Tailgate could always perfectly read that voice.
He snuggled deeper into Whirl's embrace, giving a little sigh. “‘m fine, just tired. Berth?”
“Sure thing pipsqueak! Whirl express is a go, all aboard to sleepy town! Choo Choo!” There was an annoyed grunt beside them as they started to walk down the empty hallways. Tailgate didn’t even make it to the berthroom before he fell into recharge, lulled by the familiar sounds of Whirl rambling and Cyclonus’ strong presence.
__________
When he awoke, it was to being sandwiched between the larger mechs, Whirl twitching in his sleep, Cyclonus’ soft snores filling the air, and an inbox full of messages.
Most of them were from Swerve and Mirage, both trying to out bid the other with offers for him to come sing at their bars regularly, one each from Blaster and Rewind, both asking him to sing some old Cybertronian songs for record.
Rewind also sent him a clip of his singing, and Tailgate felt himself flush at the sight of himself. All waxed up and drunkenly struting around the tiny stage like some-- some toy-bot! At least that explained the last wave of messages, which were from crew members telling him how much they loved hearing him him and how great he looked. Primus, this paired with the leering comments he got from the last time he worked for Swerve, he knew the orn was going to suck. Cyclonus got extra growly and Whirl got even more trigger happy when mechs flirted or groped him. He had to stop letting Swerve talk him into this kind of stuff, it was bad for the physical health of the crew. Maybe he would just stay in berth and work on the ship's lower halls until this all blew over.
The last message was from Ultra Magnus. Saying that his request for extra back up tiles was approved, and to make sure that the cleaning drones picked up the needed supplies before his next shift. Perfect.