Chapter Text
Bluestreak wandered through the outdoor market, looking for fresh goods for that night's dishes. His restaurant really didn't serve a lot of folks, small and new as it was, but he enjoyed bringing the best he could find to his meals. His patrons seemed to appreciate it, returning again and again, slowly spreading word through their friends and other social groups.
At a nearby farmer's table, a neatly stacked selection of a rainbow quartz peppers caught his optic. They were perfect for the spicy Stanix-style robo-chicken fry-up he had planned as the special for the night. Reaching for the top pepper, a lustrous smoky violet, Bluestreak did not expect the hand that came down over the top of his own.
With a frown, he turned on the bot next to him, ready to speak up… and found himself glossa-tied at the mech he discovered standing there. He was busy with a handheld comm device, paying little attention to anything else. A sleek racer build in white with accents in red and silver. Marks on his paint showed places where decals of some sort rested at a probably recent time in the past. Judging from the shapes left, definitely a former Enforcer—they reminded Bluestreak of the Praxian decals he'd once worn. Beyond that, he also had a very pretty face, the kind Bluestreak's spark flipped over time and again.
"Look, Spot," the mech said into his comm, sounding aggrieved, "I know it isn't what you want to hear. This isn't the first time you've mentioned it to me. Can you please just back off and let me do my own thing for once, maybe?"
Whatever this "Spot" said on the other end didn't go over well, the mech rolling his optics and his hand squeezing over Bluestreak's. He would have bruised the pepper had Bluestreak's hand not been there to take the considerable pressure. "Ah!" he said with a hiss. It didn't matter how easy on the optics the mech was at that point. That was just rude. "Hey! Do you mind?"
The mech stilled and went silent, then turned a wide-opticked look in his direction. He had the grace to appear deeply embarrassed, too. "Um, Hot Spot? I'll talk to you later, all right?" he said into his comm before closing the line and clicking the device to its hip cradle. To Bluestreak, he eased his hand away as he said, "I am so sorry. My brother just wanted to yell at me again for scrap." An expression of exasperation passed over his face that Bluestreak recognized deep in his spark. "He doesn't like some of the personal choices I've made lately."
Bluestreak plucked up the purple pepper and tucked it into his basket. He gave the empty spots on the mech's frame a significant look as he grabbed more peppers from the stack. "Let me guess," he said with a smirk. "You used to have a very promising career with the Enforcers and he doesn't understand why you gave it up?"
The mech blinked, befuddled for a moment, then returning a rueful smile. "Good guess," he said. His optics drifted over the stack of peppers, though he didn't reach for them again. "Sounds like you might have dealt with something similar?"
"My brother is Prowl, Chief Enforcer of Praxus," Bluestreak said, watching the light of understanding dawn in those—oh, wow—periwinkle blue optics. His spark wobbled like it had never wobbled before.
"You're Bluestreak, aren't you?" the mech asked, turning to lean his hip against the edge of the mechano-vegetable table. He crossed his arms and a gentle smile lit up his face. "The younger brother that left the force to become a chef?"
Door wings fluttering, Bluestreak fought against the flush of energon that touched his cheeks. He'd never been recognized like that before and wasn't quite sure how to react, but he definitely preferred not to react like this. "Yeah," he replied, making a show of carefully turning over a bright yellow crystal pepper. "That's me. Guess the story made the rounds, then? All the way to Iacon, even."
The mech grinned and snagged the pepper from his hand, putting it into Bluestreak's basket. "Yeah, it did. It's what inspired me to do the same, just so you know," he said. "I only just got started on the journey, though, so I'm not where you are yet. By the way, name's Streetwise."
Bluestreak huffed a soft laugh and held out his hand, warmth suffusing him when Streetwise pressed his palm against it in kind. It was time to show some bravery, he decided, unable to look away from the mech. "Nice to meet you, Streetwise. Help me finish shopping for tonight, then lunch?"
Now it was Streetwise's turn to show heat across his cheeks. He handled it a bit more smoothly than Bluestreak knew he himself would ever manage, a grin spreading across his mouth. "To commiserate or to get to know me?"
Bluestreak really liked that smile. A lot. "Why not both?"