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Please, won't you be my neighbor?	By : YoruHana Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 2575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Animated, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Only the demented plot, what there is, is mine.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Series: TFA

Pairing: Kup and his harem

Rating: M

Words: 2,683

Chapter includes: a slight creep factor, older bots having sex and loving it, swearing, slash, and all three of sticky, spark and plugN'play

Disclaimer: Only the demented plot, what there is, is mine
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The Drip Pan wasn't as much of a dive as you'd think by the name, though the only regulars were from the apartment building. Kup was mildly surprised it was still in business. The clientele was small enough that Hardspark was able to run it with only Flairshaft and his own two servos. Located just this side of the opening made by the Songsteel cliffs to the Northeast and the Silversigh drop off to the Southwest that surrounded the shelf the area was built upon, few bots probably even knew it was there.
Spikestrip, an ex-Autotrooper who ran unofficial security for the neighborhood sometimes also acted as the bouncer. His apartment was the last on Kup's side of the hall and they were drinking buddies. The bot liked listening to him tell his stories and escapades over a cube of highgrade on nights when it was slow.
Kup wasn't half-chipped enough to talk about old lovers, and he was too loyal to talk about the classified stuff, but having a bot that let him ramble and didn't look at him like he sounded like a loose bolted old fool was nice. By now there were probably things he told Spikestrip his old war buddies he'd known since the Great War didn't know about him. Nodding to said bot on his way in though the door he checked out who was there. Surprisingly, most of the building had shown up already.
Stingslide was setting up his instrument in the corner with Rattletrack and Slickgrip helping him, and the medic-in-training twins were talking with Pipesnake at one of the tables. Another table had Quickstep talking to Homehearth while Flairshaft served them their drinks and Hardspark was at the bar proper. The only bot missing was Slowsteam, and considering the little notice it wouldn't surprise him to see him show up any klick. The cyclebot was probably finishing up one of the apartments he was hired to clean before he came over.
Deciding to get it over with he made his way over to Homehearth, sneaking a squeeze of Flairshaft's aft as he passed him and getting a wink in return. Reaching Homehearth he tapped the mech on the shoulder plate and smiled apologetically for interrupting as he started telling him about the buzzer.
Homehearth cut him off with a wave of the servo, " It's ok, I'll have Pipesnake fix it tomorrow. Considering what Groundspike's com call said I'm not surprised something was broken. Better a door buzzer then the door itself."
Relieved the van bot understood he nodded and left him to his conversation.
Making his way to the bar counter, he snagged a bowl of carletonite crystals from the top. The little spark blue snacks were wonderfully crisp, and flaked across his glossa. He could deal with Hardspark having them cut in the shape of sparks as a play on his designation as long as he always had them in stock. There were also a few bowls of red rutile chips, but he wasn't as fond of how crunchy those were.
Looking around again he spotted Slowsteam entering and he admired the way the outfit he'd chosen for the sol clung and offered hints of plating in just the right way, the red and gray showing off starkly against his green armor.
Slowsteam was originally from a planet where bots wore metal cloth clothing to keep their circuits from freezing when the liquid methane rain of the planet fell from it's atmosphere and temporarily lowered the surface temperature. He still wore light clothing out of habit. Most of the clothing resembled the dresses organics wore on a few of the planets Cybertron had contact with.
He even wore clothing when cleaning, he said it kept any contaminants or cleaners off his plating. He doubted any of the other bots in the building knew about the dirty side of the cleaning bot that had him leaving his interfacing cover open under the outfit he insisted on.
Kup himself hadn't even known till once, very early on in his service, Slowsteam had lowered his front half a little too far while backing out from under a table. His skirt caught on something and was pulled up high enough to slip to his waist revealing a hard spike and trickling valve. Slowsteam had blushed and acted embarrassed, but continued to flirt with him like he had since they'd first met, spreading his legs wider and not making any moves to cover himself. Kup had ended up taking his valve with him still on his servos and knees. Hard.
Since then, when he came over to clean Kup's apartment at least, he wore short little skirts that didn't really cover much at all when he bent over too far and had magnetic clasps over his spark plates. Weak magnetic clasps at that. Sometimes Kup wondered how he managed the get the other apartments done during the times he cleaned when Kup was home since they usually ending up 'facing.
A cube of highgrade with rust and shaved quartz was set in front of him pulling him from his thoughts. He looked up at Flairshaft who leaned over, displaying himself to a better degree, while smiling at him, "So, you want anything more then your usual?" Kup grinned.
Good friends, lots of highgrade, and he finished it out in a dark corner booth in his second favorite position, Flairshaft bouncing on his spike, plates open and having his spark used, while Spikestrip stretched his valve with his spike and rubbed his spark on his tires. All in all it was a good night for him.
He never noticed Sparkdash, Railspike and Groundspike sneaking out for several joor.
*********
Somehow he had been talked into com-ing in sick the next sol, then passed said sol fragging every bot in the building, sometimes repeatedly. Slowsteam even bought his own brand of kink to it by bringing out an outfit he said he'd been saving, a lovely woven clear crystal thing with metal weave ties holding the loose cloth to his form in numerous pleats.
Leaving for duty felt like leaving Primus for Unicron. He knew he had to report Centerfocus. It was the right thing to do. Who knew who else he'd actually done those things to? It didn't mean he was looking forward to being ignored and possibly laughed at because no bot believed him. As uplifting as the last sol had been, he was honest with himself. He was an old truckbot who was going to be reporting a young, popular minibot for crimes of saying he might do something detestable. Without more proof then that his report was probably going to be ignored.
He reached headquarters and transformed, going in. He headed toward Coilbolt Prime's office and paused outside the door to steel his resolve.
As he raised his fist a voice startled him, "Sergeant Kup!"
Pump running double time he spun in place cursing before looking down quickly, straightening up and saluting. Coilbolt Prime was standing behind him frowning.
"What are you doing here? You were requested to be sent to Longarm Prime's office, not mine.", he growled, crossing his arms.
"Sir?"
"You didn't receive the summonings? A notice for you to report to Longarm Prime's office was sent yesterday afternoon. It was to be given to you when you reported for duty. I trust whatever you wished to speak with me about can wait?", the mini bot's brow ridges raised.
"Yes, Sir." A summoning of the head of Cybertronian Intelligence's office couldn't be put off. The report could hold. Saluting again, he hurried down the hall. He'd already made the mech wait a day longer then he should have.
He stopped in front of Cliffjumper's desk and looked around for the little red bot. Slagging glorified secretary was no where to be seen. Every-fraggen-thing was coming up minis this sol. Centerfocus, Coilbolt Prime, Cliffjumper... if Stringslide was waiting for him when he got home he didn't know what he would do. Either scream or frag him silly.
Leaning against the wall he stared in the vague direction of the autobot symbol on the doors and tried to think of why he was summoned. He hadn't been sent on any sensitive missions lately, and it wasn't his decavorn to go back to training recruits. He was on guard duty for the next half vorn. Maybe it was related to that? Something related to the council?
For the Nth time he cursed whoever he fragged off to stick him with those slag sucking fragsticks. Some were ok, like Ultra Magnus. He respected his commander, they went back a long time and actually shared downtime together on occasion. It was sometimes a bit awkward, rather like drinking with your, well, Supreme Commander, but it went back to long before there was the gap in their ranks.
If only there were more council members like him, or Lord Alpha Trion, bots that gave a frag. Instead it was bots more like Scour who filled most of the rest of the council. Mainly concerned with looking good for the nobles and other council members then doing their slaggin' jobs! They could draw an argument on whether the roads needed repaving, or even just if the headquarter commons should get new potted crystals after the old ones were vandalized, for decaorns. For the record, someone anonymously replaced the crystals before they came to a decision.
He gave up trying to guess why he was here as a bad job, he just didn't have enough information. In stead he turned his helm to look out the window. Being so high up gave him plenty to watch, at least till Cliffjumper got back from where ever he was. After less then a breem the sound of the door to Longarm Prime's office opening had him standing up at attention.
The two in the doorway paused at seeing him for a klick before the crane bot finished quietly saying whatever it was to the race car, probably more trouble then it was worth to know.
"Please make sure the task is completed before you head home tonight Agent Blurr.", he finished in a louder voice.
"Yes,-Sir-Longarm-Prime,-Sir.-I-will-get-right-on-that-as-soon-as-I-leave-here.-You-can-count-on-me." Stepping away from the larger bot, he transformed and took off down the ramp.
Kup wondered who these two thought they were fooling. Most of the base had bets wagered on when, not 'if', when, Longarm Prime was going to ask for a formal courtship. Ultra Magnus even had a good portion of the paperwork filled out and sitting in a desk drawer waiting to have the final information added, and Cliffjumper had been asked if when the time came he'd work as the intermediary.
Kup saluted as the bot turned his attention from the bot disappearing into the distance to himself, "Sergeant Kup Minor reporting as ordered Sir."
Longarm Prime nodded to him, "Thank you for waiting Sergeant Kup. Agent Cliffjumper is busy and unable to monitor the desk for several more breems, and I decided I did not need a replacement for so short a time. If you will follow me?" The bot bot turned and strode into his office as Kup followed after him, the door shutting automatically behind them.
Kup stood at attention in front of the Prime's desk as he sat down across from him and laced his digits in front of himself, leaning his chin against his servos. Kup tried not to let it show that he was starting to get even more nervous as the officer watched him.
"At ease. Do you know why you were called here?"
Shifting his stance under the bot's gaze he answered, "No Sir, Longarm Prime Sir."
The teal and gray mech sighed, "It was brought to Cybertron Intelligence's attention the sol before last that certain individuals were planning unpleasant things for you. After viewing the suggested security footage, not only was it confirmed but you were observed eavesdropping and later leaving the area. We spent the night after the discovery looking into the background of the main individual, one minibot designated Centerfocus, and the ones he was talking to and have discovered numerous transgressions of a criminal nature."
Unfolding his index fingers, he tapped them together in front of his nasal plating, "It was decided after review that the ones wronged were in no shape for a trial. Centerfocus and his cohorts have been... encouraged to take up new assignments off planet, where they will be watched at all times. I will be leaving in a short while this very sol to accompany them to their destination. Since you came in this sol after being out last, the investigation went on without you. However, since you heard what was planned, I thought you deserved to know you didn't have to worry about them."
"Sir, may I sit down please, Sir?", Kup asked as he felt his gyro stabilizers wobble with relief.
"Of course", Longarm Prime nodded to the yellow chair placed in front of his desk which Kup gladly appropriated.
"Sir, I actually went ta Coilbolt Prime's office ta report Centerfocus when I came in this morning.", Kup confessed. "He was the one who notified me you wanted ta see me as I hadn't been told when I reported for duty. Knowing it's already been taken care of is a real load off my processor. Ta be honest I was thinking it would turn inta my word against his and I'd be ignored, Sir."
"Yes, well, the issue has been dealt with, so you need no longer be concerned. I will send word to Coilbolt Prime's office that the matter you wished to speak to him about was related to why you were called here. If you prefer, I can even mention are not to talk about the matters.", Longarm Prime leaned back in his chair and observed the bot seated before him.
It seemed kind of cowardly to take that route, but with everything over and done off record like this, it might be for the best. The less chance of gossip the better. Gossip would negate the whole point of doing it under the table to spare the victims. Having the Head of Intelligence hint it was confidential would go a long way to making sure no one asked any questions, and gave him an out without him having to lie about it being confidential.
"I agree that would be for the best, Sir." Kup took a few deep in-vents, wishing he wasn't on duty and in front of a superior officer so he could pull out a new cy-gar to gnaw on. His nerves had shredded this one, but it was never a good idea to bring your vices to the attention of the The Powers That Be.
Just because everyone knew he smoked them didn't mean it was a good idea to draw attention to the fact he had one in during work hours.
"Very well then." The bot's optics took in the Sergeant in front of him, "It might also be for the best for you to take the rest of the sol as a pass."
Trying not to scowl Kup straightened up in the chair. He wasn't some weak little thing that needed coddling.
"I don't think that's really needed Sir."
"Though it was phrased as such, that wasn't a suggestion, soldier. I'll send on word that you will be absent for the rest of the sol. Take the time to better collect yourself." Longarm Prime stood from his desk, "If you have sufficiently gathered yourself you should go now. I have to be reporting to the launching docks with our... transfers."
"Yes, Sir"
Once outside he transformed down and, even though he knew it wasn't a very Autobot thing to do, wished the glitch-ridden, 8-bit, rusted, scrapheap rejects the best of luck in the Pit. Then he put them out of his processor. He may not have wanted the sol off, but he might as well enjoy it. Maybe one of the others wasn't busy as well.
**********
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Please, won't you be my neighbor?