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“I didn’t think an Autobot pest would ever take interest in motorsport.”
You squirmed in your restraints, servos clacking against the wall of your containment cell. It was just an energon scouting mission, they said. It would help you and the team, they said. Well now, you are captured by the servos of Knockout, held in one of the private cells.
At least they gave you privacy.
“Why wouldn’t I? We’re on a planet known for having significantly more energon compared to the other planets in this solar system,” you rolled your shoulders, in an attempt to ease the pain in between the plating. “And for its inhabitant’s sentience and intelligence. Don’t tell me a species as smart as them wouldn’t have motorsport.”
“‘Smart’? You’re calling these pathetic meatbags ‘smart’?”
You scoffed, optics breaking away from his gaze to look at the floor. “Not smart , but technologically advanced. Not like us, of course.”
The cherry-red Aston Martin did the same and scoffed, rolling his optics. “They’re the second least ‘technologically advanced’ species we have encountered so far.”
“And yet you wear their vehicles. At least Megatron can commit to his hate for humans.” you teased, the corners of your lips turning upwards.
“ They are visually appealing! ” the medic replied, optics brightening significantly. His chassis was puffed out, probably in annoyance. He looked funny.
“ And you race alongside the humans. Don’t bother lying to me, I can see the dust at the edges of your plating.” That same smirk grew to the point the edges of your optics crinkled.
Knockout gasped, a silver servo covering up his chassis in defense. “ Excusez-moi! I do no such thing! I stay in the Nemesis at all times, and I only go out when our Lord tells us to.”
Rolling your optics, you leaned towards the medic. “As if . You’re a rebellious piece of scrap—I can see it in your optics,” Relishing the surprise in his gaze, you let your smirk turn just a bit gentle. “Don’t worry, I won’t snitch. I do the same.”
“Does Prime know?” Knockout smiled after his brief bout of surprise, a hint of mischievousness hiding behind his optics.
You shrug. “Nah. It’s been months and they still haven’t caught on.” You glance at his dirtied plating, focusing on the ones around his arms and chassis. “Though, I would suggest taking a full shower instead of the basic cleaning. Trust me, it does wonders.”
Something clatters in your subspace, reminding you of what you had to give to the medic the next time you saw him. “Oh, here! I have something to give you. It’s not a bomb, I promise—just a towel to help you scrub off the tougher dirt and a tool to get those tiny rocks out of your plating.”
Unable to grab it yourself, you opened up your subspace for the medic to see. Hesitance flashes in his optics, but he eventually reaches in and grabs the items.
To his surprise, you weren’t lying—a soft cloth made for cars, and a tweezer big enough to hold but small enough to get rocks out of his seams.
Knockout looks at you in surprise, and you meet it with a smile and a wink.
Maybe it won’t be so bad having you as a hostage.