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Cyclonus watched Tailgate closely as he leaned out over the edge of the oil reservoir to dip his servo in and swirl the thick liquid around. He trusted Tailgate to not fall in it, but he did know that Whirl had also let his scraplet colony free in the oil. Sure, Riptide went swimming in it all the time and nothing had ever happened to him, he hadn’t even seen the scraplets yet, but Cyclonus still worried. Tailgate kicked his legs in the air behind him, helm resting on one servo as he watched the small waves his digits made. Cyclonus watched them too for a moment.
“Hey, Cyc?” Tailgate asked, optic band still locked on the ripples in the oil. Cyclonus made a noncommittal noise. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Little One,” Cyclonus murmured back, not pointing out that Tailgate had just asked him a question. It was something the minibot was working on with Rung after all.
“Well, it’s really quiet here, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It’s actually kind of nice, but, well…” He trailed off, shoulders turning tense and Cyclonus was sure he’d be frowning if he could.
“Yes?” Cyclonus prompted after a moment of continued silence.
Tailgate stopped stirring up the oil, pedes dipping back toward the ground for a moment before he brought them back up to where they had been. “It’s almost too quiet, you know?”
Cyclonus did know. He knew it all too well. It was a comfortable silence though, not steeped in awkwardness and he hadn’t felt any desire to fill it with anything else. He’d thought Tailgate had felt the same way, but maybe it wasn’t as easy for Tailgate to deal with as it was for Cyclonus.
“They did turn the circulation pumps off in the reservoir.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Tailgate pushed himself up then. He shook his servo out, oil droplets flying off in all directions back into the pool, and turned to face Cyclonus, tucking his legs underneath himself in the process.
“I know.”
Tailgate looked away into the oil. “I guess I just wanted to hear you sing.” He said quietly, barely loud enough for Cyclonus to catch.
He cocked his helm to the side. “Then why not just ask? You know I love singing for you.”
“Yeah, but you love coming here because it’s quiet and there’s no one around to bother us. You come here for the peaceful atmosphere and I come to spend time around you in a space where I don’t have to talk or worry about anything.” He dropped his helm and looked at his servos resting in his lap. Cyclonus’s spark constricted in his chest and felt equal parts too small and too large for the space. “I didn’t want to ruin that by asking you to fill it with noise.”
Cyclonus reached out, claws brushing over Tailgate’s neck and mask lightly. He cupped the side of the minbot’s face. Gently, he tilted his lover’s helm up so he could look into the dimmed visor.
“I think the only thing that could ruin this peace and quiet is Whirl bursting in here yelling about something. My singing for you could never ruin that, only add to it.” He stroked his thumb over Tailgate’s cheek and the minibot leaned into it. “Do you have any requests for a song?”
“Hmm,” Tailgate’s visor dimmed in pleasure as he thought about his response for a moment. “Something you haven’t sung for me yet? Do you know any ballads?”
“I do,” Cyclonus grinned. He kept his servo resting against Tailgate’s check, thumb stroking the warm metal gently.
He started humming out a tune he hadn’t heard or sung in a very long time. It was slow and quiet, building up gently until he started to sing in old Cybertronian. It was more subdued and quiet than most normally were and Cyclonus dimmed his own optics while he sang for Tailgate. Tailgate let out a quiet sigh, letting the ballad and his lover’s voice wash over him. He shut off his visor, nuzzling into the servo resting against his cheek, and basked in the pleasant glow. He reached out with his EM field, tangled it with Cyclonus’ and let all of his stress and worry fade away.