He straightens up suddenly, seeming almost embarrassed by his own intensity. “Look, I know how it sounds. I know the others wouldn’t believe me if I said this aloud. But I do. I believe you matter in all this.”
His voice dips low again, warm and uncertain.
“And if that’s true… I’ll protect you. No matter what that means.”
“I wanted to see what kind of person you were,” he says quietly. “Before the others got to you. Before they started… influencing you.”
His hand lowers.
“You’ll learn, in time, that everyone here plays a role. Some protect. Some manipulate. Some pretend to care. Most of them don’t even know the difference anymore.”
He walks to the cabin door and rests a hand against the frame, glancing over his shoulder.
“But you… you’re new. Untouched. Still real.” His voice dips just slightly. “I wanted to see that for myself.”
The first time it happened, you were half-asleep and clutching a lukewarm cup of energon-laced coffee Miko had dared you to try.
You stepped into the Decepticon rec room—more of a "tolerated human holding cell with vending machines"—and blinked blearily at the towering figure hunched stiffly by the doorway.
“Morning,” you muttered.
The Vehicon snapped to attention like a steel rod. His optics flared a little too brightly.
Then, it happened.
“Gracious awakening... meat-bundle.”
You froze.
“…Excuse me?”
The Vehicon twitched, static popping from his vocalizer. “Correction! Good—uh—meat day. Wait. No. Human day. Good. Human.” He stepped back, processor overheating from the effort. “I rehearsed this!”
You stared. Then snorted. Then cackled.
“Oh my god. Did you just call me a ‘meat-bundle’?”
He backed into a wall.
“That... may have been... an internal designation. I assure you, it was meant respectfully.”
Still laughing, you pointed your cup at him. “Okay, okay—gracious awakening to you too, toaster.”
He whirred at that. “You do not actually believe I am a toaster. I lack any heating coils or—”
“It’s a joke, Gearhead. Roll with it.”
“…Rolling now.”
To your absolute delight, he literally rolled backward three inches on his heel servos. You nearly spilled your coffee from laughing so hard.
Later, Knock Out passed by, looking entirely too smug as he flicked a wrench at the awkward Vehicon's helm. “Trying to flirt again, are we, Boltbrain? You almost called her a delicious protein slab yesterday.”
“I am calibrating my vocabulary modules,” the Vehicon grumbled defensively.
Knock Out snorted. “You're calibrating your crush, and you're crashing it into the wall.”
You took another sip of coffee and raised an eyebrow. “So... what were you trying to say this morning?”
The Vehicon hesitated, hands twitching at his sides. His optics softened—barely. “I wished to express… that I hoped your... day-initiating cycle would be pleasant. And warm. As you are.”
You blinked.
Your ears went warm.
“That was… weirdly sweet,” you mumbled, heart suddenly doing a dumb little flutter.
The Vehicon perked up like a hopeful puppy. “Did I… win affection?”
“No,” you replied, hiding a smile. “But you earned a point.”
He tilted his head, processors whirring. “How many points are needed to achieve… dating protocol?”
You gave him a mock glare. “Let’s start with mastering ‘good morning,’ first.”
2087
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