Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

 

Breakdown grinned, shaking his head slightly as he looked out over Iacon from Knock Out's balcony. It was everything Knock Out said it would be. Beautiful, breathtaking, like nothing he'd ever seen. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like waking up and walking out on his balcony to this sight every morning. Such a stunning difference from the high dirty walls of buildings he usually stared at while walking the streets in lower Iacon.

The real privilege of the rich, height.

He turned back, watching Knock Out as he poured them another drink, yet another variety of high grade. Here, among the clean white walls, the ornate archways and the expensively tasteful decor, Knock Out seemed at home. He fit in here. This...this is where Knock Out belonged.

It once again brought forth the question of what had Knock Out been doing on the lower side of Iacon to have even found the bar they'd met at to begin with. And further more, why keep coming back? The trip here had proven it was far from convenient. And with all this beautiful luxury, with full access to some of the best establishments Iacon had to offer, why leave? Why lower one's self to a gritty bar frequented by a bunch of common working class mechs?

Knock Out turned, smiling at him at he picked up two rather small cubes and sauntered toward him, joining him on the balcony once more. Breakdown let his inner musings go. It didn't matter. Whatever had drawn Knock Out to lower Iacon, to the bar, it didn't matter. If fate saw fit to send someone like Knock Out his way, he wasn't going to question his good fortune…he had little enough of that as it was. Especially after the cycle he'd had.

Breakdown took the proffered cube and leaned against the balcony railing again, looking out at the spread of glowing, twinkling lights. "You're a lucky mech, Knock Out. A very lucky mech."

Leaning against the railing, almost mirroring Breakdown's stance, Knock Out tilted his head just enough so he could gaze at Breakdown's face, profiled against the black canvas of night. He smiled, intimately, before dropping his gaze, toying with his cube as a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the high grade. "Indeed I am."

I love you, too.

Breakdown raised his drink but paused, frowning at the small amount of bright green liquid in the cube. "What kinda high grade is this?"

"Not a high grade, actually." Knock Out paused to take a sip from his own cube, savoring the taste as he turned with a sly smile. "It's Vosian Ultra Grade."

"Flier fuel?" Breakdown looked at the cube's contents skeptically.

"At least give it a try, Breakdown. Take a sip. You never know what you might like unless you give things a try."

"Ok…" With a shrug, Breakdown tilted the cube, taking a small mouthful. Almost instantly spitting it out. The taste was bitter and strong. It was with watery optics and a twisted grimace that Breakdown swallowed the over powering drink. Shaking his head, he held out the cube with what small amount remained untouched to Knock Out.

Knock Out grinned, good humored but edged with sympathy, "No?"

A swift shake of his head. "No." Breakdown choked out. Knock Out took the cube, raising to his lips, drinking the remains of the rejected drink. Lips placed exactly where Breakdown's had been though it went unnoticed as Breakdown grimaced again, the unpleasant after taste of the Vosian Ultra Grade lingering.

Knock Out chuckled. "I suppose it can be argued it's an...acquired taste." He turned, running a hand lightly along Breakdown's arm. "Give me a moment. I'll bring you something I know you like."

Breakdown coughed, nodding. "As long as it's not Vosian."

"Regular high grade, I promise. Stay there, I'll be right back." He called over his shoulder, lingering for only a moment to make sure Breakdown didn't follow, didn't turn to watch him. He didn't. The larger mech had already turned back to look out over Iacon again.

Satisfied, Knock Out walked over to the cupboard that housed his various containers of high grade. He pulled out his container of regular high grade. He hadn't been lying, Breakdown would be drinking good ole average Iacon high grade...just with a little something extra. He poured a cube then pulled from his subspace a small vile, unscrewed the top and added the clear mixture to Breakdown's drink.

It was innocent really. Breakdown would only feel a little tired and weak. Nothing lingering. Nothing that would hurt him. It would be out of his systems by morning. No, this...this was good for Breakdown. With his shy and introverted nature, he needed help over that final hurdle, needed help giving himself over to Knock Out completely.

Especially after all that femme had done to him. The damage. It was really no wonder Breakdown shied away from engaging in any outward displays of affection. Probably feared rejection. Which was foolish because Knock Out would never, ever reject him. In fact, now that he was here, Breakdown need never fear rejection again. Inside these walls, inside his home, Breakdown was safe and would always be safe. Always. After all, Knock Out had no plans of ever letting him leave.

Ever.

No, Breakdown needed to be here, for his own good. He needed reassurance. Needed to be petted and cared for, shown he was loved and desired. Breakdown was broken, beautiful, perfect, but broken. Pouring the second cube, Knock Out smiled to himself. He was good at fixing things that were broken. Wouldn't Breakdown be pleased with him...loving him all the more for making everything right.

He walked back out to the balcony, meeting those beautiful yellow optics as he held out Breakdown's cube to him. Knock Out adored those yellow optics. Such a unique feature and so suited to Breakdown.

"Thanks." Taking the cube, Breakdown took a quick sip, desperate to get that strong bitter taste out of his mouth.

Two more swallows later Knock Out saw him pull back, frowning at the cube in his hand. "Something wrong?"

Breakdown continued to frown at the drink, swirling it a little in the cube. "Tastes funny."

Knock Out gave a dismissive wave and turned to look out over Iacon. "Just a side effect of the lingering Ultra Grade. Drink more, it'll right itself."

A nod from the larger mech and Knock Out smiled to himself when he saw Breakdown raise the cube to his lips.

Drink. Drink it all, love. We're almost there.

They spent a few moments in quiet companionable silence, both leaning against the railing. Close, so close their arms almost touched. Till Breakdown suddenly jerked, pausing a moment before straightening, pulling back a bit from the railing. Knock Out turned his head, watching.

Breakdown took a deep breath, setting his nearly empty cube down on the flat surface of the railing with a shaky hand. Still shocked the cube had almost slipped from his grasp. He took another deep breath, blinking to straighten his vision, rebooting his optics as he rubbed a hand over his face. Something was wrong. His optics were hazy, his movements felt strained and sluggish.

He took an unsteady step back from the railing. He had enough of his wits about him to know he didn't want to go tumbling over the ledge on accident. He stumbled backwards, flinging out a hand, catching himself on the wall. He leaned against it, taking deep breaths as his vision became distorted, everything blurring and swimming.

"Breakdown?"

Turning toward the voice, he could make out Knock Out wavering in his vision as the mech came toward him.

"Breakdown? What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to explain but couldn't quite push the words out, like his vocalizer was jammed or malfunctioning. A hand was lain gently on his arm, Knock Out leaned in close, optics searching his face.

"I think that Vosian Ultra Grade is getting to you, messing with your systems. You might want to lay down for a few moments till it passes."

The Ultra Grade. That's right. He'd never had flier fuel before. Probably causing some strange surges that were causing other parts of his systems to deplete in energy or...something. He wasn't sure. He couldn't pull all his thoughts together. But the laying down idea sounded great. Lay down, let it pass. Worse comes to worse, Knock Out was a medic. He'd know what to do.

He gave a nod, which only made everything in his vision spin again. Knock Out grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the wall, guiding him carefully into the apartment. Through the blur of colors Breakdown made out the shape of Knock Out's couch. He took a step toward it only to have a fuzzy red shaped mech block him.

"No, no. That's more for decoration than usefulness. Quite uncomfortable really."

Breakdown wanted to tell Knock Out he didn't care if it was uncomfortable, it was a couch and it was only for a few moments, but all that came out was a weak moan. There was a gentle but forceful tug on his arm, pulling him in another direction.

"Follow me, Breakdown. I have the perfect place for you to rest. Just a little further."

Breakdown followed, letting Knock Out guide him. An arm curled around his waist, helping to stabilize him, supporting him as with each step his legs seemed to be harder and harder to move. By the time they reached a doorway, Breakdown was almost sure he was going to drop. He was shaky and weak as he paused to lean against the entryway.

Something wasn't right.

"Almost there, Breakdown." Knock Out encouraged gently, his hand slid along his waist, sweeping up to rub soothingly across his back.

Breakdown frowned at the touch then quickly berated himself. Knock Out was being friendly, helpful. There was nothing wrong with that, he just wasn't use to it. There was nothing soothing or gentle about his brothers, they just grabbed and shoved when they were "helpful". He just wasn't use to this.

He nodded to Knock Out, practically shoving himself off his resting spot just to give himself some aid in momentum. The arm returned to curl around his waist again, strong and firm. His vision wavered, the room swam, and he had to rely on Knock Out to lead him where he wanted to go.

It seemed to be taking forever. Each step sapping him of energy, until he was sure he'd end up an undignified pile on the floor, when Knock Out stopped him.

"Here." He motioned to something in front of them.

He had to squint his optics, forcing his vision to focus for brief intervals. He could make out a large plush berth in front of him. It had to be the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. So inviting and...Primus, was he tired.

Knock Out's hand was on his back again, urging him forward. "Go on. Lay down. You'll like it, I promise."

He wanted to thank Knock Out but, again, he couldn't quite push any words out, so he simply nodded. It was with tremendous effort he managed to ease himself up on the berth, rolling over on his back, laying splayed out on the incredibly soft surface. With a greatful sigh he relaxed completely, sinking into the soft plush padding. He'd never lain on anything so luxurious and comfortable in his whole life.

Knock Out leaned against the berth, the soft padding sinking slightly where his hands rested, leaning over him. "Do you like it, Breakdown? Are you comfortable?"

He gave a vague weary nod and Knock Out smiled, positively beaming at him. "Good."

Then Knock Out vanished from his field of vision. Somewhere in the fuzzy background of his mind he could hear the medic's soft steps as he left the room. Blackness edged his vision and he offlined and shuttered his optics, shutting out the ever spinning kaleidoscope of colors. Every joint in his body relaxed as he fell almost instantly into recharge.