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Whirl truly was happy for Cyclonus and Tailgate- the mech had been trying to get them together for a while now and hearing the two had completed Conjunx Ritus was a victory in his, objectively correct, opinion. However, despite this, he couldn’t shake the pang in his spark.
He loved the two mechs, with all his spark.
He loved how Cyclonus cared for and defended those he cared for. How he stood strong for what he believed in.
He loved how Tailgate, despite his size and anxieties, went into every confrontation and situation with nothing but confidence and bravery. How he put all his being into everything he did.
He loved how they both were not only willing to give him a chance, even a second chance in the case of Cyclonus, but also hold him accountable for his B.S.
That said, Whirl kept it to himself. Locked down and hidden behind his jokes and confidence as he didn’t dare risk his relationship with them over such trivial emotions- not when the two meant more than the world to him.
As usual, Whirl found himself in Swerve’s Bar after his “chores” were done completed for the cycle. While not as taxing as other tasks on the Lost Light, such as working with the engines or the med bay, his joints and back ached from hunching over cleaning weapons for hours on end. Along with the usual phantom pains in his wrists and optic from his empurata, he was in a less than a positive mood. As the mech entered the door he was swiftly met with an excited shout of his name and Tailgate’s arms wrapping around his midsection in a full collision hug. Whirl felt a heat build behind his optic, like what would have been a blush once upon a time. Swiftly he shook off the feeling before half-heartedly patting Tailgate’s shoulder and returned the greeting.
“C’mon! Cyclonus and I nabbed a table in the corner,” Tailgate yelled over the music blaring in the bar, grabbing one of his claws and tugging him towards the aforementioned table. “We were starting to worry you weren’t going to show up”
“Ya’ kidding?!” Whirl replied, squinting slightly to try and negate the building pain in his helm while attempting to force his usual laid-back tone. “What on Cybertron would give you that idea, ‘Gate?”
The two arrived at the small table and took their seats along side Cyclonus- the purple mech simply greeting Whirl with a nod and nudged an extra mug of engex towards him.
“Normally you’re here before we are,” Tailgate began as he settled on his stool before looking back at the blue mech. “Plus ya looked really out of it in the halls."
The response had honestly taken him off guard. Whirl hadn’t realized just how much the two picked up on- or how obvious he had been with his off day. “Nah- just sore from the chores today,” he replied- dramatically tossing his servos over his helm in an over the top display of a stretch. He held back a wince at the spike of phantom pain. “Honestly feel like I could take on a whole Decepticon army!”
“Uh-huh.” Cyclonus spoke up as he sipped his engex, squinting slightly over the rim of the cubed glass.
Whirl snapped his head over to Cyclonus, squinting back at the deadpan mech and pointing at him with a single claw. “Don’t ‘uh-huh’ me. I could take on SEVERAL Megatron’s if I wanted.”
All he got was a smirk and eye roll from the purple bot along with a chuckle from Tailgate. Before long whirl had begun ranting and bantering with his companions and soon hours had passed and the bar began to clear out. The three bots said their good-byes, Cyclonus simply patting Whirl on the shoulder while Tailgate hugged him once again.
“Y’know…” the minicon began, holding Whirl’s servo in his own. “You could always come visit us in our habsuite? Doors always open for you.”
Whirl laughed at what he assumed was obviously a joke and responded. “Maybe another time, ‘Gate, though careful with the phrasing next time. Never know how it could be interpreted.”
Tailgate’s shoulders dropped slightly and slowly laughed. “Heh, yeah- next time!”
Cyclonus nodded at him before turning and guiding tailgate back towards their suite. Whirl’s spark ached as he wanted nothing more than to take Tailgate up on his offer and spend more of the evening with the duo. Suddenly what he said clicked in his brain and he softly smacked his forehead- or rather the top half of his optic- and began berating himself. Of COURSE that joke made Tailgate uncomfortable! Whirl thought I just had to screw it up again by overstepping! Swiftly, he headed to his habsuite and curled up in his berth. Alone and in pain.
The following day, Whirl stalked through the halls. His helm and servo pains had thankfully died down from the night before along with his general aches, but his processor still looped the events from the previous night- and how god awful his interaction with Tailgate went. His regret and spiralling as the cycle passed and he hadn’t seen much of the minicon. What little he had seen of him resulted in Tailgate swiftly attempting to exit whatever room or hall they were in. While the avoidance had hurt Whirl, a part of him was thankful he hadn’t tried to engage in any conversations as he was certain it would just make everything worse.
Eventually the cycle ended and Whirl decided he couldn’t be bothered dealing with the noise and chaos at Swerve’s and made his way to his habsuite. Besides, it’s not like he could face Tailgate and Cyclonus- Tailgate clearly hadn’t forgiven him for his out of pocket jokes and Cyclonus usually stood by his partner for most grudges. As he entered his suite, Whirl kept the lights dim as he made his way to his desk against the far wall, and began to tinker with the half finished clock that rested on its surface. At this point it had become almost second nature to work with his claws, although he did struggle at certain motions or points due to not being able to grab or see certain parts or tools. Outside of those instances, he was able to let his processor wander. He let the thoughts flow- Rung had talked about it a handful of times during his therapy. Explained it as a sort of meditation adjacent practice. Whirl had never actually attempted it prior to the Lost Lights interdimensional maiden voyage. And while he still preferred punching or shooting his problems- he’d give the old mech credit with the fact it did help.
Until a knock rang from the metal door startling Whirl from his thoughts and causing him to drop whatever gear he had in his hold. A faint growl left him as the mech stormed over to the door and opened it, ready to give whoever made the unfortunate mistake of knocking on his door at the wrong time a piece of his mind.
“What-“ he hissed, before noticing who exactly was at the door and trailing off.
“We need to talk.” Began Cyclonus, his gaze was intense and arms crossed over his chasse.
Whirl didn’t reply before simply stepping to the side to let the mech in. “Take a seat- would offer some kind of drink but I wasn’t expecting company.”
“That’s fine. I came by unannounced- as such there’s no obligation on your end.” Cyclonus responded as the two settled down in a small seating area by the large window on the far wall.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit.”
“First off, are you ok?”
Whirl had to double take, before replying with a less than elegant “Heh?”
“You weren’t at Swerve’s this evening. Tailgate and I were worried something had happened. Or that Tailgate had gone too far last night.”
“Again- I reiterate- Heh? What are you talking about? Panic Button has been dodging me all day- figured I had stepped over the line more than usual.”
Cyclonus paused for a moment before ex-venting dramatically. “It appears there was a massive miscommunication between the three of us,” he began, leaning forward slightly and dropping his volume slightly. “Let me make sure this is perfectly clear then.”
Whirl was about 30 seconds from becoming a flustered and embarrassed mess as he stammered out an “okay.”
“Tailgate and I both have developed strong feelings towards you. As it is not in my field of expertise to talk about my feelings or attachments, Tailgate has been trying to drop hints and actively ask you on a date with us or something within that realm of activity. Seeing as we had a little too subtle allow me to be blunt. No jokes. No inuendos. Tailgate and I are interested in perusing a romantic relationship with you and would like to take you on a date of some kind. Are you interested?”
Whirl froze for a minute as he proceessed the words before blurting out “yes!”
Cyclonus smirked as he stood up, grabbing Whirl’s claw and beginning to walk towards the door. “Good. Tailgate is waiting for us.”
The rest of the evening felt like a dream. The three mechs had spent some time at Swerve’s before heading to Cyclonus and Tailgate’s habsuite and spending the evening chatting until eventually they fell into a recharge.
No jokes. No regrets. No inuendos. Just an evening where Whirl finally felt as though he belonged.