Swim Away

Spilled Shame

"What's the second shades for?"

The sun is already on its prime the moment you stepped outside the shadows, perfect to put on the new shade you just got last month. That Breakdown could understand. What puzzles him, however, when he spotted you packing another shade inside your beach bag as he holds the pie.

"Oh, this?" you wiggled the other shades you're twirling between your fingers, "Barri broke his shades while we went dirt sliding yesterday. Thought he might gonna need a new one for his shift today."

"Barri, huh?" Breakdown mused, "Four days and you're on pet name basis already."

"Pfft, he wishes," you laugh dismissively, fixing your beach bag to a better position, "Barricade is just too mouthful. If you lot can call Bumblebee 'Bee', surely Bar—"

Honk! Honk!

A bus emerges from another side of the hotel, seemingly empty save for the driver and someone else in the front. "Hey, that's Smokescreen!" you exclaimed, recognizing the man with baby face gleefully punching the honk button. And beside him, a much beefier man, wave with a smile that screams nothing but 'Friend!!' on his face.

You have been so used to being spoiled, it didn't take long to understand what's the bus doing here instead of waiting in front of the lobby like the schedule says, "Is that our bus?"

Breakdown squints his eyes and huffs in unconcealed irritation as he confirms. "Yeah. It is."

You side-eyed him, "What's the huff for?"

"Eh, it's nothing," Breakdown said, kicking a pebble nearby not unlike a sulking preschooler, and he makes no attempt to explain himself. You don't push.

However, the moment Breakdown steps into the bus, he almost threw the pie away at how fast he tackles the beefier, bald, dark-skinned man.

"Bulkhead!" he exclaims like a happy bear, without any trace of his earlier irritation, and Bulkhead (the driver you recalled also friends with Wheeljack) roars back just as happily.

"(Y/N)!" Smokescreen also exclaims, but not as fast since he has to climb out of the driver seat first before hugging you. "Touchy-feelie, aren't we?" you mused, tolerating this breach of personal for once as Smokescreen practically is nuzzling you, "I like your shades! Why Breakdown's carrying that pie?"

"Why don't you start with yourself? Are you here to supervise me too?" you asked back as you slowly untangle yourself from him, and you almost can see his puppy tail dangling down lifelessly.

"No...Megatron signed me for the driver and east side watch for today, so two Hulks over there," he jabbed his thumb to the Beef Duo playing catch with your boxed pie, "are going to babysit you."

"Please don't play with pie, boys," you called over, and their game immediately stops with Breakdown elbowing Bulkhead and waddling back to you with the prized pie.

"I got too many apples from Bee," you told the puppy-eyed man, excited as ever with his tapping feet as you unbox the pie, "and I was in the mood for baking. Go ahead; take one."

You're aware you're not Gordon Ramsey-level when it comes to food, but watching the boys wolfing their portion down like gold-diggers on a brat with too much money is worth the whole act you're putting on to put up with your lie.

"Oops, almost forgot," Bulkhead said as soon as his pie is nowhere on sight, dusting off the crumbs on his palms before offering one of them to you, "I'm Bulkhead—nice to meet yo—uh, I mean, nice to finally, greet you?"