A/N: This doesn't really take place anywhere specific in the comic. It was just an idea.

Tailgate had no idea of what compelled him to attend Swerve's bar this evening, but here he was. The sounds of chattering, glasses being hit against each other and audio he couldn't recognise flooded his audio receptors when he entered the room. It was so much brighter and colourful in here than the rest of the ship, not that he could find anything to compare. The whole layout and scheme was just dull and boring. No wonder everyone chose to come here. It was an escape from the problems everyone was faced with, some of which happened to be the large and strict law enforcer. Most would think of it as a safe haven.

Taking a quick scan of the bar, he familiarised himself with those who were currently present. Skids was sitting at a table with Rung. They appeared to be conversing more than drinking, well, Rung anyway. Ever since he started his therapy sessions with the challenged mech, Skids had grown exceptionally close to the doctor. That's all he really knew about them.

Across from the left he spotted the one named Trailcutter who basically served this quarters as his secondary home. He always looked like he was enjoying himself, even when he was alone. That was most likely due to the constant flow of high grade running through his system, but he appeared harmless.

There were other mechs nearby at separate stalls, some of which the names couldn't spring to mind. Tailgate still felt new to all of this. The ship, Rodimus and his followers. Everything. He didn't know why he felt the need to remember everyone when he only associated himself with a fraction of those one board the Lost Light. Maybe he just wanted to make up for lost time and gain as many new friends as he can now that he has the free will to. He had to start somewhere.

Finally approaching the main bar stall, he was spotted by Swerve who was in the middle of a conversation with Whirl. The tall scrawny mech was hunched over with drink in hand. As soon as he noticed Swerve diverting his attention away from him, he spun his helm towards the smaller form walking up and jumping onto the stool next to him. His singular optic beamed at him in suspicion.

"Tailgate! What a surprise! Come to join the big leagues huh?", he teased as he leaned an arm against the table. The red and white mech knew Tailgate wasn't much for drinking so it was a surprise that he had showed up. By the look of Whirl's expression, he was probably thinking the same thing.

"Maybe your not so small and pathetic after all", Whirl commented before turning away from the two. He swirled the high luminescent contents in his cup casually as if nothing was said. Tailgate grew confused but brushed it off as quick as it came. He noticed the drink in his servo looked quite promising.

"Um.. can I have whatever he's having?", Tailgate pointed to the drink in Whirl's servo.

"What, Burning Crusade? That's stuff's spicy! Are you sure?",  Swerve asked with a concerned look.

"Yes". The mech behind the table finished cleaning the cup in his hand and placed it down.

"Aaaalright then", he spoke with high enthusiasm at the end. Tailgate watched as his drink was being prepared, tapping his digits together nervously. Swerve was quick and efficient in making drinks. He sure knew his stuff. No wonder he was destined to succeed his dream in running a bar. As he continued spectating, he saw Swerve pour two separate liquids into one. It created some chemical reaction and the colour went from a dull brown and red to a bright orange, almost like fire. Once Swerve was satisfied with his creation, he spun around and planted the cup on the table.

"Here ya go", he pushed the Burning Crusade drink closer towards Tailgate who stared at it curiously. The colour radiated against his servos that hugged around it when he picked it up. This was it. It was go big or go home from here. Whirl's antenna's twitched and he turned to the face the unsuspecting bar rookie, only in the interest to see how this was going to play out.

Tailgate retracted his face guard to reveal his mouth and took the first gulp. At first there was an instant burning sensation. It burned all the way down his throat and left it numb, but it didn't stop from there. That's when the initial kick hit him and he shivered at the heat burrowing in his chassis.

"Mmm!", he muffled trying to bite back the strong taste that remained in his pallet. He didn't recoil however. That was something both Whirl and Swerve were impressed with.

"What do ya know, kid's got brass. That one's on the house", Swerve grinned. 

"Two can play at that game", Whirl challenged before he downed the rest of his drink and slammed it back on the table. "Bring me another". Apparently Tailgate started something he didn't really want to be a part of.

"You don't have to do that you know. I was just going to have one drink", Tailgate reassured so there wasn't any misunderstanding. Whirl ignored and kept on drinking. That mech was impossible to study. One moment he would be completely normal and civilised and next think you know he's got the barrel of his blasters at someone's head, hostile or not. Sometimes he wondered how he was even accepted into Rodimus' crew given his behaviour.

A few moments past and Tailgate managed to finish his drink in one sitting. Meanwhile the mech next to him had downed more than he could count. Swerve made an excuse to leave and serve other guests before he had the chance to ask for more. His body swayed back and forth, struggling against it's own imbalance. He looked down at the so called bombing expert in disarray.

"Say, where's your scrap buddy Cyclonus?", Whirl questioned with his helm half tilted. He was clearly intoxicated to the point where he could barely function, and yet he was able to speak clearly.

"Oh, he's... busy". Tailgate didn't really have a proper answer. He thought back to earlier when he knocked on Cyclonus' door. Originally he wanted to enjoy the evening together with him but it appeared he was going through one of his moods. He never answered the door nor made an attempt to deny his request, so he thought it was best to leave him be. It's not like he should be so dependant on him anyway. He could handle things on his own... couldn't he?

"Shame. I was really looking forward to smack talking the guy. He's got this funny face he makes when you get inside his gears. Totally not intimidating at all but funny", the overly influenced mech cackled. "What's the bis? You two get into a fight or somethin'?". Whirl leaned closer towards Tailgate who flinched at the lack of distance between them.

"N-no! not at all!", he stuttered as he denied. Whirl somehow expressed his disbelief by narrowing the beam of light his optic possessed, not that he could properly grasp the form of judgement at this time.

"That cold-hearted bonehead. Listen. If you really despise him that much, just do what I do. Shoot him. Don't worry, you have my permission", Whirl tapped a claw on his chassis giving a rather fake and absurd blessing.

"What? No! I would never do that!", Tailgate squeaked.

"Good, cos that's my job", he resented before picking up his glass only to realise that it was still empty. "Scrap". Whirl quickly scanned the room and saw no trace of Swerve. Growling in defeat, he turned his attention back to the only thing he could find entertainment in at the time.

"Let me ask you something Tailbate.."

"Tailgate".

"Yea... right. Whatever. Why do you hang around that concrete attitude of a mech? Really, I've seen disembodied corpses express more emotion. The guy is straight up savage. I feel like he carries you around with him just to make him look like less of a monster", he elaborated. Tailgate's optics blinked behind his visor. Everything he had just said didn't really fit the profile of the Cyclonus he knows now.

He may of had a bad history, but even corrupted mechs such as himself had the potential for change. Hidden behind his mask, there was a presence that involved a much more delicate nature. At random intervals, it would resurface. Tailgate knew his true self, the one that was gathering up the pieces of finding inner peace, and seeking life without war. He wanted to live in a world without factions, but most importantly, he wanted his future to exist with Tailgate at his side. Not as a simple companion, but as a lover.

"Your wrong. Cyclonus isn't like that. He... he cares", Tailgate remained true in his denial.

"You hesitated".

"That's because he's too stubborn to express it willingly".

"If I were you, I'd ditch that looser and find someone with a little more spice in their personality, like this drink", he pointed towards the cup in front of Tailgate that was once the Burning Crusade.

"Since your here alone at the bar, why don't you start looking? I doubt you have to look far", Whirl proposed in a lower tone. Tailgate's frame jerked when he sensed something brush along the side of his leg. He glanced down to see that Whirl had his leg uncomfortably close to him. There was no denying that it was intentional.

"What are you doing?" the small and confused mech asked.

"Face it, you didn't just come here for a drink. You wanted an escape, something to relieve you of your one sided relationship with Cyclonus. You wanted some action", Whirl diagnosed. The taller mech hovered over him. His stance was lopsided due to his drunken state but in all words he sounded serious. He leaned closer. Tailgate was stunned by his words that he couldn't move.

"N-no.. that's not-".

"I always loved the thought of taking advantage of something so small and fragile", Whirl interrupted. The sentence was spoken indirectly. He playfully spun the wheel that was attached to Tailgate's shoulder plate. Tailgate's body grew stiff and his face heated up. How was he suppose to react to a comment like that?

This was what he meant by Whirl's bipolar personality. He was brash and too unpredictable to comprehend. Most of what he said took him by surprise. His helm sulked inwards during his uncomfortable stage.

"Tell you what. If you choose to listen like the nice and obedient little bot you are, I'll promise to give you a good time", Whirl offered.

"Huh?".

"Don't be a poor sport", Whirl hummed. It was clear that he was still fighting against his own intoxicated body because his body was swaying. "You know you want some".

"Wait, your not serious are you?!", Tailgate exclaimed. Now he's lost it. He wasn't sure what to think or how to react at this point. This was either the high grade talking or Whirl himself. Neither sounded good.

"You really want to test that theory?", Whirl replied as he reached out to touch the innocent and petite mech. His servo barely made it halfway before something grabbed him from behind and slammed his face into the table.

"Ack!", he released a painful grunt. Tailgate was startled, but as soon as he saw the flash of purple enter his sights he knew who it was.

"Cyclonus!", he cried in both surprise and in relief. The timing could not have been any better. The sounds that were once drowned out went silent as everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the sound of what looked like the start of a bar fight. Cyclonus buried Whirl's face against the hard surface before he got a proper grip on him and tossed him off his seat. the dazed mech flew a couple of feet before he landed hard on the ground.

"Damnit", he cursed. "You know it's really rude to barge into people's conversations like that". He glared back at the angered form approaching him with beaming red optics. A shadow of pure rage cast over him. His servos were in fists just ready to throw them at the one fixated in his line of sight. Tailgate thought about stopping him, but he doubt his attempt would make any difference.

"What did you do to him?", Cyclonus fumed.

"Only what you wouldn't do. You really got to treat your small marshmallow friend there with more passion. Then he wouldn't have to run off to the bar and settle for bots like me", Whirl replied casually without a hint of fear. His lack of concern for the situation was what set off the scarred and worn out mech the most.

"Shut up!", Cyclonus threw a punch at the mech struggling to keep himself up right. Even in his state, he had more than enough confidence to fight back. The war between them broke out and they tacked each other to a nearby table, taking down cups and other debris along with them.

"Alright! You get him!", Trailcutter shouted as he watched the two bots exchange punches and kicks. He made a fist bump in the air before collapsing his face back onto his table. A few others gathered closer to the scene.

"This can't end well", Rung sighed still remaining in his initial spot with one leg over the other. It appeared that Whirl was loosing. Of course he was at a disadvantage due to his intoxication. He could barely focus on his attacker. He just kept throwing punches. He was being thrown around like a weightless husk and beaten to the ground and still he kept getting back up. His persistence was a pet peeve of Cyclonus'.

"Come on ex Decepticon, is that all you got in those rusty joints of yours?", Whirl insulted. He knew how much he hated being called that. Cyclonus had constantly denied that title, not that Whirl cared. He found some kind of affection through the chaos. His increasingly fleeting displays of rationality were something to be feared upon by others. Cyclonus didn't let that get in the way, not with their constant rivalry.

Eventually the thin legged mech was overthrown and Cyclonus pinned him against the table by the throat. By then Swerve made finally made his appearance.

"Hey, come on now. Can't we just enjoy a fun evening without a fight breaking out?", he tried to intervene. There was a wobble in his tone as he was scared of the two aggressive mechs causing havoc in the bar, but he knew he had to try something. Both of them shot a death glare towards Swerve who silenced himself on contact. So much for that.

"Do you have anything else to say with that trash mouth of yours?", Cyclonus asked turning his attention back to the task at hand.

"Yea. I don't think you want Tailgate bad enough. In my defence, I barely lifted my digit and I showed more interest", Whirl brought up his servo and snapped the two claws together in front of Cyclonus. His optics twitched in irritation.

"I get it, your the 'emotions should be felt, not heard' type of guy. But do you ever stop to think of how dull and boring that makes you? No wonder Tailgate's having second thoughts", Whirl continued to pester him. Cyclonus gritted his denta and he proceeded to punch the smart ass attitude out of him repeatedly until there was barely a face to look at. Some of the audience cringed while others encouraged. Tailgate found it hard to watch, but he had to admit the bot kind of got what was coming to him.

"Are you done?", the mangled body asked like his defective face was only a minor inconvenience. Cyclonus growled and pushed the mech away from him forcefully. Tailgate cowered when his partner approached him, only to be hoisted up bridal style in his arms.

"Cyclonus..", he spoke softly. He was honestly more concerned for the damage inflicted on Cyclonus' end aside from the lying pile of scrap he left behind. Cyclonus refused to take further in the fight. He stopped just as he was about to leave the bar with Tailgate in his arms, panning his helm over his shoulder.

"Touch him again and you die", he threatened before making his exit. As soon as they left the scene, Swerve ran over to the broken down mech on the floor.

"Whirl! Are you okay?", he expressed his concern.

"Swerve..", his voice spoke faintly. Swerve was pulled by the chassis so he was closer to Whirl's face.

"B...bring me another drink".

____________________________________

Tailgate felt reluctant on asking anything of his partner who was still carrying him back to what he assumed would be their quarters. A guilt weighed down on him. He kind of felt bad that this event occurred because he went to the bar alone. He feared that it might of upset him too. If he did think of something, he would have to chose his words wisely.

Some of the things Whirl said to him were eating away at his mind. Surely Cyclonus was not fully devoted to intimacy and feeling like he had hoped, but that didn't mean he was a monster. He shouldn't of even let those comments bother him, but he didn't know what else to think during the silence that lingered between him and the mech holding his delicate frame.

Cyclonus kept it that way until they made it to their room. There he placed Tailgate gently onto the floor before he moved to sit onto the edge of the berth next to him. By now the silence was too much for the smaller mech. He approached him quietly fiddling with his digits again. It was a frequent habit he had that came whenever he was nervous or conflicted of something. He opened his mouth but hesitated before he was able to get any words out.

"Hey, I'm sorry I went to the bar without you Cyclonus", he began to apologise. He didn't know how else to start the conversation.

"Did he hurt you?", Cyclonus vented. His helm hung low expressing zero emotions.

"What?", Tailgate quirked his helm.

"Whirl... did he hurt you?", he repeated, bringing his helm up back up. Meeting Cyclonus' optics, Tailgate could see the concern residing within them, something he wasn't expecting. His gaze touched a feeling in his spark.

"No", Tailgate replied. It was hard to read what Cyclonus was feeling at this moment. There was so much emotion hidden inside of him, he knew it, but it was locked under his silence. You think Tailgate would know him inside and out by now, but there were still things he didn't understand, things he wanted to learn about Cyclonus. During their time together he could admit that his personality had softened a bit towards him and the strain on his attitude had mellowed out. Tailgate had made a big impact on him, and that's why he wanted to be the one to reach out to him and bring those trapped feelings of his back to the surface where they belong.

Tailgate was so focused in his own sympathies for his partner that he was startled when Cyclonus suddenly brought his arms forward and pulled him into his arms. His hold lacked any intention of letting go.

"Promise me you won't go there alone again", the deep voice spoke into his audial. Tailgate froze. The tone in his voice had changed. The words could of been mistaken as possessive, but Tailgate found a different meaning in it. Whatever he was going through earlier, he deeply regretted not being there when Whirl tried to take advantage of him. That must of been what bothered him the most. He cared.

"Yes Cyclonus, and I wasn't planning to go earlier. I originally wanted you to come with me, but you didn't answer the door when I came by earlier", he explained. Cyclonus' breath hitched.

"I didn't think it would be so bad, but I was wrong. And now because of my choice, you got hurt", he continued. The larger mech sensed movement and he pulled back, only for his face to be touched by a servo. His optics grew at the contact. Tailgate's servo was so small and delicate. It brushed along the new scars on the side of his face. The sensation triggered something inside of him, something unfamiliar. His original instincts wanted to push it back, but the force of it was stronger than his will. And then he saw how broken Tailgate was by the cause he felt responsible for.

Even when they first met when he knew so little about him, Tailgate's showed courtesy. Little by little Cyclonus grew more comfortable. When it came to intimacy, Tailgate tried to engage in new things with him, emphasis on try. Cyclonus never really responded the way he wanted because he didn't know how to. All his life he had been forced to cast any forms of emotion aside and overthrow them with anger and survival instinct. All he knew was war.

He knows now that over the years the generosity and kindness in that smaller mech's spark had taken a tole on him. You could even say it infected him. The tolerance he had against his emotions began to fade. He no longer wanted to fear them. If Tailgate was going to be his future, he had to rise above himself to achieve that goal.

"I'm sorry I don't express my feelings like you want me too", Cyclonus apologised. "If I was to be honest with you right now, I would admit that I was hurt from seeing you and Whirl together for all the wrong reasons".

"What do you mean?", Tailgate asked.

"I walked in just as he was practically leaning against you. My chest felt heavy when I caught sight of it. I didn't want him touching you, nor being anyway associated with you. Somehow I feel like the only person that should be able to be that close to you was me. All I wanted to do was get him off you. That's when I lost a control for the majority of the fight", he  Cyclonus had more to say, but he stopped himself when he heard a noise emanating from Tailgate's throat. The mech giggled, causing him to grow confused. Tailgate realised he had probably just offended him for laughing during such a serious conversation, especially when he was actually opening up to him for the first time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything bad by laughing. But what you just said describes jealousy", he informed.

"Jealousy?", Cyclonus echoed.

"It's what happens when your scared of loosing someone. You thought Whirl was going to steal me away from you and you took action based off your feelings", Tailgate tried to explain as clearly as he could so that he would understand. Cyclonus grew silent. That would explain what happened to him at the bar. Tailgate saw how conflicted his partner was.

"But you don't have to worry Cyclonus. My spark has already been captured.. by you", Tailgate smiled. There was a faint blush that formed over his faceplate. His words had struck something hard against the larger mech's chassis. This time it was something more meaningful and welcoming. As hesitant as he was to admit it, his spark had also been captured.

In one swift motion, he pulled Tailgate onto the berth. He made the mech squeak when he climbed on top, barely giving him any time to react to the first action. Tailgate's body shrunk under the presence of him. The room was dim. He could clearly see the bright red optics staring down at him from above. His gaze could scare anyone off, but not him. He only saw the mech that he loved so dearly.

Cyclonus took a moment to admire his lover. His smooth and curvilinear form added a lot to his cute and innocent character. There have been other times he found himself staring at the vibrancy in his colour scheme. Tailgate had always told him how much he loved the colour purple and that it reminded him of similar pigments in the galaxy. The more he looked at him, the further he wanted to explore the feelings that had emerged out of their stasis.

Tailgate held his breath when he noticed Cyclonus moving closer towards his face. Was he doing what he thought he was? His question was answered when the mech placed his dermas over his face guard, giving him a small kiss. As soon as his dermas grazed over his face, his spark started to loose it's rhythm. The simple gesture that Cyclonus offered was enough to swoon him.

"Is this something you want more of?", Cyclonus asked. He himself wasn't really sure what he was doing to begin with. He was just following impulses. They appeared to have brought a pleasant reaction however, and that was something that he took pride in.

"Y-yes", Tailgate blushed deeply. He couldn't ignore the excitement that came with his voice. Something started to flutter in his tanks. Cyclonus' face lit up, and Tailgate could of sworn he saw a smile start to form in the corner of his dermas. His face was met with the warm presence again when he was kissed once more. This time it was longer and it held more meaning. Tailgate shut his optics, lost in it's passion.

This was it. This was the Cyclonus he believed in, the one that had stayed in the dark for too long. With love and courtesy, Tailgate was able to view the mech's true colours. He felt so unbelievable happy for him over his own giddiness. They were finally sharing new experiences with each other.

"If your thinking of leaving this room tonight you are sorely mistaken", Cyclonus proclaimed. "I want this to be an eventful evening for you". Tailgate's body tensed up when a flush of hot breath hit against his neck. It almost made it sound like an invitation for something else.

"I don't see a problem with that", he concurred.

________________________________________________

The two laid in silence, comforted by their own company. Cyclonus was in such a calm state of mind that he had fallen into stasis against the smaller mech, holding onto him desperately. Tailgate was on the verge of falling under the intense calmness. He reached out to stroke the sleeping mech laying peacefully beside him. A low hum escaped his throat when he touched his face. Tailgate pulled his servo away so he wouldn't disturb him further. He smiled and slowly moved closer to him, touching his forehead against his crown.

"I love you", he whispered softly before snuggling closer against his body heat and closing his optics. He kept thinking back on all the events that occurred today. There was no longer a need to worry over the negative parts because they were overthrown with the positive. There were still new feelings percolating in his spark from tonight's experience. Things have changed for the better. With Cyclonus at his side, the world could never be more perfect.