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Come to my party, Rumble had begged. It's not every day your sparktwin gets junx'd, he had reasoned. There's gonna be lots of high grade and people to hang out with, the other cassette had promised.
Well, Frenzy is definitely enjoying one of those things. Cassette-sized cube in hand, he watches the party from the sidelines. He knows he really doesn't have a leg to stand on when it comes to this feeling that roils in his tanks like an angry little turbofox, but there's no denying it.
He's so jealous.
It's not even that he's jealous of Rumble being with Arcee specifically. Frenzy is just used to everything being equal between them. Sure, they're not exact copies of each other, but if Rumble can find what Frenzy assumes to be an approximation of true love then why can't he even get a first date?
Not that Frenzy would wish ill on his twin's relationship. The furthest from it. He might be jealous, but he's not going to sabotage the best thing that's ever happened to Rumble just to even the playing field. He just needs to try harder. Or try less. He's not really sure what he's doing wrong when it comes to romance. Pit, he might even settle for another one night stand at this point.
No, absolutely not. Frenzy knocks back the rest of his cube and sets his chin in his servo, watching the others milling about. It doesn't matter how lonely he is or how jealous of Rumble pulling a baddie he might get, he's not going back to sleeping around. Only partially because his chassis designation is one of the most popular holovid tags. He's had plenty of… unfortunate encounters. The tragedy of people who think porn is a realistic representation of actual interfacing.
A laugh, deep and hearty like a drumbeat, catches Frenzy's attention and pulls him out of his thoughts. His optics skim the room until he finds the very obvious owner. Rumble's new conjunx has plenty of friends, and this is one of the taller ones. Garishly green and yellow, taller than the small group of bots he's entertaining, and, by Primus, the mech is handsome. Frenzy would bet his last shanix that someone like that isn't hurting for someone to love.
Frenzy feels his spark ache. He never really thought about finding love before Rumble had it, but lately it's all that he thinks about. Something soft. Something warm. Someone who'll look at him the way Arcee looks at Rumble when he's not paying attention. Why can't Frenzy be so lucky?
After checking his chronometer, Frenzy lets out a long suffering exvent. It's barely been an hour and he's definitely ready to leave. Rumble would understand, right?
Quick as he can without making himself too obvious, Frenzy hops off of his chair and heads towards the door. He narrowly dodges getting slammed into by one of Arcee's very drunk friends. Speedsters may be light for their size, but Frenzy isn't looking to get fallen on.
The chill rush of air as he steps outside makes Frenzy's plating ping as it adjusts to the temperature change. He'd not realize how hot it was inside, but he shouldn't be surprised. All of Arcee's friends are standard size class, so they're bound to put off crazy amounts of heat. It just makes the cold night cut even deeper.
As much as he doesn't want to be at the party anymore, he's not quite ready to go home either. All that's waiting for him is an empty hab and his own left servo. Instead, Frenzy drops to sit on the steps, letting the cold air help his not yet fried circuits. And while he sits there, his thoughts get the better of him.
Lonely. Since when was he lonely? Isn't that what twins are for? So that cons who can't make friends don't get lonely. But here he is, sitting by himself outside of his twin's party while Rumble gets new friends and Frenzy just gets drunk.
It was bound to happen once Rumble found Arcee. The writing was on the wall from the very first night. Frenzy had never seen Rumble so intent on anything in their lives. And the way Arcee looks at him?
No one had ever looked at Frenzy like that. Like no one else matters. Like they just won the lottery. Like he was more than just a cube-sized terror. With love and care and tenderness. Maybe Frenzy just wasn't made for those things. Not like Rumble, who's always been the softer, kinder cassette. (Relatively speaking, at least.)
The door to the venue opens behind him, and Frenzy scoots to the side to make sure he doesn't get tripped over. The last thing he needs tonight is a trip for two to a medic.
Instead of walking past him, a mech sits on the steps beside him. Frenzy feels his tanks turn as he looks up. That big, handsome mech that had been surrounded by bots just a few kliks ago is sitting beside him. Primus is just having a laugh at him at this point.
"Tired of the party? I don't blame you."
Frenzy rolls his optics. He definitely doesn't notice that this stranger is steaming in the chill of the night. "Sure, like you weren't the life of the party in there. You had, what, eight bots hanging off your every word?"
The stranger shrugs. "Yeah, but it's Arcee's party, and she can only handle so much of me. Don't wanna scare away her new conjunx. Hot Rod will do a good enough job on his own."
Frenzy can't help but chuckle a bit. "Uh-huh, good luck with that. Rumble's straight up stupid with love; he's not going anywhere anytime soon."
His companion hums. "I'll have to take your word for it. At least they look good together, yeah? Compatible colors and all. I know some couples that look like a paint factory voided on them. Know what I mean?"
That gets him to laugh. He definitely knows what the mech means. "Takes someone special to convince a mech to change his paint. Takes someone really special to live with clashing paint."
The two laugh together before the stranger offers his servo, one large digit extended. "Name's Springer, you?"
Frenzy regards the offered digit for a moment (Primus, it's huge compared to him) before taking it with his own servo. "Frenzy. Nice to meet you."
Springer stands, stretching out and unintentionally giving Frenzy a good look at how huge mech is. Or maybe it is intentional? Either way, Frenzy feels his faceplate flush. It's embarrassing. He's a full grown mech, for frag's sake. Sure, Springer is handsome. And yes, Frenzy was known to appreciate the occasional frame outside of his reasonable 'facing capabilities. But hooking up with someone from his brother's 'junxing party?
...
Maybe. It would certainly be a way to take out his frustration over being patently unlovable. Handsome mech like that, though? Not gonna be into—
"See something you like?"
Frenzy nearly jumps out of his paint. He hadn't realized he'd been staring so openly. But the smirk on that handsome faceplate says that he doesn't mind. And as much as Frenzy could say yes...
"What if I say no?"
Springer chuckles and offers his hand. "Then I go drink in my hab all by myself instead of with you."
After a moment, he pushes up from the steps and takes the offered hand. He sucks in a sharp vent as he's suddenly pulled up of his pedes. He gulps as he finds himself craddled in a strong, green arm.
"This fine? Don't want you having any trouble keeping up."
Frenzy is sure that comment is paired with a wink, but he's more worried about hiding his flushed face than confirming that detail. He manages a nod, trying hard not to think of how he's literally been swept off of his feet by a huge, handsome mech.
He didn't think this through. No, sir, not at all. And now he's on his way to a stranger's hab and there's only one way that ends up, in his experience. Don't get him wrong, this Springer guy is very nice on the optics. But…
"So, uh… Should I just tell you now that I'm a spike mech?"
Springer chuckles, glancing down at him. "I don't know, should I tell you that I'm a valve mech? Don't worry, I think you and I are going to get along just fine."