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Gray work-roughened digits ghost over flashy red, flawless paint. Breakdown watches his conjunx as he recharges, the adorable mech tangled up in his own limbs and lying across his broad chassis. Knockout’s cheek is plastered to Breakdown’s, his vents mixing with the large bruiser’s. He doesn’t mind.
The day had been hectic; more than what the poor doc could handle on his own. Unfortunately, their leader had decided to send Breakdown out on a wild goose chase to find some sort of Cybertronian tech that turned out to be false info. During his mission, one of the Decepticon mines were attacked and taken by the Autobots. The vehicons returned to the ship in droves to be treated by the sole medic on staff.
So when Knockout demanded to be cuddled after tending to his vanity, who was Breakdown to deny him? The mech smelled like what was apparently cherries due to the fresh wax he’d applied, and the ex-wrecker was finding it hard not to kiss him all over to taste. He kept himself in check; he didn’t want to wake his lover up.
Smoothing his servo over the delicate curve of Knockout’s waist, Breakdown can’t stop thinking on how lucky his is. Here he is, just a broken down, half-blind, scrapyard of a mech granted with the most beautiful mech on all of Cybertron. Mecha wished they could gain even the slightest of attentions from his conjunx, but the cherry red racer was all for Breakdown!
The blue brute loved it when the mech would flirt with others, only to break their sparks as he told them he was taken. It was petty, he knew, but it was like a drug. He couldn’t get enough.
The only exception to this rule was the one mech that was like a scraplet; relentless and willing to do anything to get what he wanted. Breakdown had never met Starscream’s trine, but he knew he’d lost them through Knockout. Because of this, the Decepticon’s second in command had needs that were never met. This led to him throwing himself at others in the most toxic manners possible if they gave even a hint of acceptance. Thankfully for him, Knockout was tougher than he looked.
It took many earth months for the seeker to finally crack Knockout’s shell, only to find that the mech only wanted attention for the sake of attention; nothing more. After a while of gossiping and becoming closer than they expected, Knockout finally caved. So every now and again, the flier would be admitted to these lucrative cuddle sessions between the couple so long as he took what was given and kept quiet about it. Like now, as the silver mech stands shrouded in the shadows in the doorway.
“Commander.” Breakdown greets quietly. The lithe mech shuffles his pedes. Making his decision, he stalks over to the edge of the berth. He lays down stiffly, allowing Breakdown to scoop an arm beneath him and pull him in to his side. The air commander’s frame immediately melts into the embrace, chirping and purring as he snuggles in.
Knockout’s optic cracks open, the mech peeling his cheek away and turning his helm to see the new visitor. He smiles at the noisy new-comer, humming contentedly and patting a servo on the jet’s tucked-in helm. Knockout pushes his chassis up onto an elbow until he’s looking into Breakdown’s optic.
“Alright?” Knockout mumbles tiredly.
“Never better.” Breakdown grins. Knockout blinks against his sluggish processor, chuckling under his vents and lazily stealing a kiss from his favorite mech.
“I love you~.” The medic coos sleepily, nuzzling back into the larger’s chest plates. Breakdown hums softly, pausing his servo from his absentminded petting of Starscream’s wings.
“I love you, too, sweetspark~.” He echoes, placing a deep kiss on top of Knockout’s helm. Breakdown continues to watch as Knockout slips back into recharge, a gentle smile still gracing his dermas. The larger picks up where he’d left off on his commander’s wings, of which had been twitching for attention. Starscream doesn’t take long to follow Knockout’s lead, his purring only lessening by a tiny margin in response.
Yeah; Breakdown was the luckiest mech in the entire universe.