Chapter Text
Hound was an attractive mecha. Everyone knew that, right?
He wasn't the flashiest, or the most colorful, but his build was impressively bulky, his optics were a beautiful yellow, and he always kept his metal perfectly polished and shiny. Not to mention, his personality and demeanor added a lot to his overall likeability.
It was normal to analyze why your friend is so attractive, if your name is Mirage.
Mirage cared deeply about most the other Autobots. Growing up with no one but his brother and sister at his side, Mirage was often lonely. The Autobots were the first time Mirage has felt like he truly had mecha to connect with. The only thing is, there was a stark, unmistakable disconnect between him and the others. Most the other Autobots had grown up either middle- or lower-class, never once knowing the luxury of the Towers. Mirage, on the other hand, did. He was born into a rich family, never had to do any sort of dirty work. It was obvious when he talked with others, how they acted, how they grew up. He cared about them, yes, but he couldn't help but feel out of place a lot of the time. Where they all knew each other's struggles from their life before war, Mirage didn't.
But then there was Hound. Hound was different, way different if you asked Mirage. His sparklet-hood was the complete opposite of Mirage's own; dirt-poor, fighting to get by. But despite that, Mirage had never felt so connected with someone else before in his life. Complete opposites, best of friends.
And that's why he was so troubled with doubt when he starts finding Hound strangely more attractive than before.
It's not that Mirage hadn't had a crush before. No, he's certainly been in love, with more failed romances than he can count on his servos. That aside, he knows what it's like to be in love. Worryingly, he felt all the symptoms of lovesickness when it came to Hound.
The way his spark sped up when he saw Hound. The way he felt his frame heat up as if it were caught on fire whenever Hound touches him. The way he hangs onto Hound's every word like a prayer. Indeed, Mirage knew this was something he couldn't ignore.
He didn't want to accept that he could be in love with his best friend. No, that would cause far too many problems. Besides the interpersonal drama that could spawn, it could distract the both of them from the real problem at hand, that being the literal war waging currently. Sure, Wheeljack and Ratchet were conjuxed and they still excelled in their respective jobs, but they were also far older than both Mirage and Hound. They knew how to handle things like that.
So, Mirage chose to ignore it the best he could, even if it was causing quite a bit of sparkache.
And of course, right as he's mulling over Hound's most attractive qualities in his head, the same Bot returned from his mission, entering the Ark.
He was decidedly quite a bit worse for wear than the body Mirage was daydreaming about. Several dents and scratches littered his frame, and- was that smoke coming from his back-?
Instantly, Mirage sat up and rushed toward him. "Hound! Primus, what happened to you?" He placed his servos on Hound's shoulders, mulling over his frame for any particularly worrying injuries.
"Ah, I'm fine, Mirage, don't worry." He responds, but Mirage stands on the tips of his pedes to look over Hound's shoulder, and he gaped, for the mecha had a big, burning hole in his back shoulder.
"Don't give me that when your back is still smoking! Here, let's get you to Ratchet." He placed a servo on Hound's waist, guiding him to the medbay.
On the way, Mirage decidedly needed to know what had transpired. "Were you attacked? What about the others?"
Hound nodded softly. "Yeah. They're still out fighting, but, um- they sent me back here, because one of 'em got a lucky shot at me." He glanced over his shoulder, clearly referring to the burn.
"Who was it?"
Hound looked away from Mirage meekly.
"Megatron..."
Well, that would explain the sheer amount of damage. Megatron was by far the strongest Decepticon. Still, that did nothing to quell Mirage's worry. In fact, he felt his spark rate shoot up tenfold.
"They were right to send you back, then. Come on, in here." The doors to the medbay opened automatically, and he guided Hound over to Ratchet.
The doctor's optics narrowed at the sorry state of Hound. "Come, lay down. Tell me what happened."
As Hound did, Ratchet immediately started to get to work, knowing he has his work cut out for him. And before Hound could speak, Mirage explained for him.
"Megatron shot him in the back. It's still smoking," He pointed out, but he knew Ratchet had already noticed it with a hum.
"And that's the most grievous injury?" Ratchet asked, turning Hound on his front to get a good look at it. It looked even worse to Mirage than he thought.
"I think..." Hound responded.
"You think?!" Mirage exclaimed, clasping his servos together. "Ratchet, he will be fine, right?"
"Don't be dramatic, Mirage," Hound chided, though his voice was warm and accompanied by a smile. "I've survived worse."
"Indeed he has," Ratchet added on. "Now, unless you plan on making yourself useful, I need you to leave, Mirage."
Of course, Mirage has no knowledge of anything medical, and just looking at the painful burn mark made him squeamish, so with a last worried glance at Hound, he stepped out.
But he didn't leave the area. No, he sat just in front of the entrance to the medbay, sitting down on the floor. He put his faceplate in his servo and started going in circles in his head. This happened every time Hound was seriously injured- Mirage kept worrying and worrying while he waited and waited for Hound to be okay. It stressed him out to no end.
He didn't know what he'd do if he lost Hound one day. Hound was everything to him, and losing him would...it would push Mirage over the edge. Over what edge, he doesn't know, but it would.
No, Hound can't die. He won't allow it.
-
It had been hours he'd been sitting outside the medbay waiting for Hound to come out. He half-considered getting up and finding something to read, but he didn't feel like moving. Eventually, the others on the same mission as Hound came through, a few more entering the medbay with their own injuries. A few asked Mirage why he was sulking outside, but to most, the answer was obvious- waiting for Hound.
When he finally heard the medbay door slide open again, it wasn't who he was particularly hoping for, but still a pleasant sight anyway- Ratchet. He didn't seem to particularly expect Mirage to be sitting there, optics raising for a nanosecond then lowering back down.
"Hound is in stable condition now, if you want to see him." Ratchet told him, and instantly, he rose to his pedes. "In fact, keep an eye on him while I go grab something. Do let me know if any of his vitals change."
Mirage didn't particularly know how to tell that, but he just nodded and ran past Ratchet into the medbay, back to the spot he knew Hound was. Sure enough, the Autobot was awake and looking better, though still scratched.
"Mirage," He greeted, and he sounded tired. It was likely Ratchet had to shut him down to preform repairs, and everyone woke up feeling groggy after a forced shut down.
"You idiot, you had me waiting for hours." He walked over to Hound and placed a gentle servo on his chest, a smile on his faceplate. Hound couldn't help but chuckle.
"Like I said, it was a lucky shot on their part. It won't happen again." He assured, and though they were both joking around in a way, it was still nice to hear. Mirage noticed an energon cube sitting on a nearby table, picked it up and brought it to Hound.
"Drink, you probably need it." Graciously, Hound accepted it, lifting his helm up slightly to sip from the cube easier.
After a few minutes of silence while Mirage watched the very confusing display of Hound's vitals, Hound spoke up again.
"You don't have to worry so much about me, you know." His voice was quiet, but full of certainty.
Mirage raised an optic at that, turning to face Hound again. "Why do you say that?"
Hound didn't look back at him, though. He stared at his energon cube, contemplating it. "Well...I've always been fine before. I'm a fighter, you know this." He sighed. "I like fightin'. I know I'll be fine." He finally meets Mirage's optics. "Why don't you?"
Mirage mulled over this for a moment, making a quiet hum. Hound didn't necessarily sound upset that Mirage worries over him, more just...confused. "Even if I know you'll be fine at the end of the day, I can't help but worry over you." Mirage responded, kneeling in front of Hound, their optics locking. "You mean the world to me, Hound. I can't lose you."
'Because I love you,' Mirage thought quietly, before shaking the thought out of his processor. No, don't think about that right now- you're friends, just best friends.
Hound smiled at him. "Well, nothin' will happen to me, then, Mirage. If for no one else's sake except yours."
The words washed over Mirage like a spell, making him release tension he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you, Hound."