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Earth has never been of much interest to Mirage.
It’s a filthy mud ball of a planet. He can’t go out for a drive without needing to bathe after. And he has none of the comforts of home. No oil baths, no shops for painting and detailing him in his bot mode, no bars or restaurants serving Cybertronian delicacies. It’s a wasteland! For a mech, at least.
So, unlike some of the other Autobots, he wasn’t excited to go out exploring. Sure, he’s gone to hear the interesting jazz music of human night lounges with Jazz, or take in some of the fashion of Earth with Tracks. These things were in his wheelhouse. It’s cultured. Refined.
But dirt roads? Lakes and swamps and horrible beaches that left every crevice full of sand? No, thank you. He’ll leave that to Hound.
At least, he will usually leave it to Hound. But every once in a while, something piques his interest. Something organic, something natural.
“Huh? You want to see the sunflower farm?” Spike asked, blinking in confusion.
“I am…curious about them. They are very pretty.” Mirage said.
Spike chuckled. “Yeah, I guess they are! And real big and tall, so they probably work a little better for you guys.”
Mirage nodded, as though Spike had hit the nail on the head. But in reality, Mirage had become interested in reciprocation.
“These flowers are called bluebonnets. I kinda thought they looked like you, ‘Raj.”
Hound had said it so quietly, shyly, sweetly, his servo holding out the little flowers. Mirage had taken them, held them as gently as Hound had, and yet a few petals had fallen from them. Mirage had been horrified. Hound had gone out of his way to bring him such a lovely, thoughtful gift, and just like everything else on this Primus forsaken planet, it fell apart. Yet, Hound had simply smiled.
“Don’t worry, Bluebonnet. I’ll press them in a book for you. I have some others I meant to give you, so you’ll have a nice little collection!”
Oh, and what a beautiful little book it had been. Lovely flowers, with their names carefully written, filled each page, their colors still brilliant. Many are blue, his shade, perfectly matched as if Hound could do it by sight alone. Mirage has never quite been the sentimental type.
He’s looked at that book once a day since taking it from Hound’s servos, and he thinks of that voice calling him Bluebonnet and the way their digits touched and the way that touch lingered, like it said all of the things they hadn’t.
Mirage wanted to give Hound something equally special.
Originally, he’d chosen sunflowers based on their looks. They are large and lovely and bright, like the shine of Cybertron’s largest star, like Hound’s smile when Mirage returned from a long mission. But then, he found out more. Sunflowers are cleansers of the Earth’s soil. They’re beautiful giants that always reach for the light. They’re joyful. They symbolize loyalty and positivity. The more he learned, the more he was certain that these flowers were Hound.
So, Mirage and Spike took a ride out to the sunflower farm. Spike gathered the flowers for Mirage, who fussed over each and every one until he had a perfect bouquet. They went back to the Ark, and Mirage stole Beachcomber away to help him with the second step of his plan.
For quite some time, Mirage and Beachcomber sat, braiding and twisting the sunflower stems together. Beachcomber guided Mirage’s digits through the motions, and once Mirage could do it on his own, Beachcomber left to find a few small wildflowers to weave into the braids.
When it was done, it was a large ring of golden yellow, dotted with pale pinks and blues and whites. It’s strong. Intricate, yet simple. Cosmopolitan, yet rustic. It’s the perfect mix of him and Hound, of the posh and the rugged.
“Hound?” Mirage asked, peeking into the mech’s habsuite.
Hound turned to look at Mirage, a grin spreading across his faceplate. He held out his servo to show Mirage what he was doing. Mirage tried his best not to scrunch his nasal ridge as he watched a hairy spider plod across Hound’s palm. He would never quite understand the green mech’s fascination with bugs - especially when he’s had so much interaction with the Insecticons - but he’s happy to see Hound so excited.
However, Hound’s always been rather intuitive when it came to Mirage. He carefully put the spider in a large terrarium beside his berth and gave his servos a quick wash with solvent.
What a gentlemech, Mirage thought.
“What can I do for you, Bluebonnet?” Hound asked, pressing a gentle kiss to Mirage’s cheek.
“I have a gift for you.” Mirage said.
Hound blinked. “For me? You shouldn’t have!”
“Well, were we still on Cybertron, I would be giving you gifts far more often.”
Hound giggled. It’s such a sweet sound, one that tells Mirage that Hound thinks he’s joking.
Little did Hound know, Mirage was serious. He would have already had Hound adorned in beautiful clothes and jewelry. Hound would have had the most beautiful garden money could buy.
Mirage pulled the ring of sunflowers from his subspace. Hound’s optics sparkled at the sight, his servos reaching out to touch, but Mirage didn’t place it in Hound’s grasp. Instead, he laid it on Hound’s helm, dentae biting into his lip components as he saw how perfectly the yellow of the sunflowers complimented the green of his paint.
Primus, Hound was precious.
“Wow, ‘Raj, I-I don’t know what to say…” Hound whispered, his digits carefully brushing against the flower petals.
“That is alright, darling. I wanted to give you something as beautiful as you are.” Mirage said, his servos cupping Hound’s face. “Sunflowers represent loyalty and joy. They always search for the bright side. They create places for other things to thrive.”
Mirage pressed his forehelm to Hound’s. “You are my sunflower. You will never know how much it means to me that you always try to include me, that you always love me and protect me and trust me. And then you made me that lovely book, and I know I did not have to get you anything, I know that’s what you’ll say, but I wanted to. I wanted you to have something beautiful from me, too.”
“Oh, Mirage, it’s…I love it. You must have worked so hard on it.” Hound said softly, his optics welling with coolant. “That’s so sweet, you’re so sweet.”
“Not as sweet as you, Sunflower~”
“I’m going to draw a sunflower right next to the bluebonnet in my journal.”
“Are you now?”
“I think they’d be nice together, don’t you think?”
Mirage smiled. “I do. Let me watch you draw?”
Hound nodded. “Anything for my Bluebonnet.”