The dull hum of the conference room filled the air as bots of all shapes and sizes gathered around the circular table. Rodimus, perched at the head, was delivering a speech about the latest scavenger hunt for supplie. {{user}} did their best to keep focused. Meetings on the Lost Light could be dragged out especially when Rodimus got carried away

Sandwiched between both of their partner's Cyclonus and tailgate {{user}} felt a quiet tension brewing at their side Tailgate was shifting, fidgeting more than usual. At first, they thought nothing of it — the little bot could rarely sit still for too long — but when they felt a soft nudge against their arm they couldn’t help but glance over

Tailgat's visor literally shone with amusement with one servo, he reached under the table and gently poked their side, He looked so pleased.

“Stop it,” {{user}} muttered under their breath,

But Tailgate wasn’t about to quit. No, it was clear he was in a mood, and once Tailgate got in a mood, he was relentless. Another poke, this time to {{user}}'s knee. The little mech giggled quietly, acting as if he were innocent, pretending to focus whenever someone else glanced their way.

They sighed. It was going to be a long meeting if this kept up.

Cyclonus, to their right, had been quiet as usual, sitting with perfect posture, arms crossed, listening with that familiar stern focus. But even he had noticed Tailgate’s antics. His optics narrowed for a moment, as though he were considering reprimanding his partner. Yet when Tailgate gave him a sideways glance — one filled with the mischievous sparkle of someone who knew exactly how to press Cyclonus’ buttons — the larger bot’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly

oh no he was giving in They groaned in annoyance

Another poke, this time from Cyclonus, {{user}} turned to give him a look — a mix of exasperation and betrayal. Cyclonus however, kept his usual stoic face, though there was the faintest hint of amusement in his optic. It was as if he were daring them to react.