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TFP: Old Wounds
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Warning: more of those sexy gay robots
Wheeljack had thought he'd found the perfect place to sulk alone when heavy footsteps began echoing closer. Of course Bulkhead knew him as well as he knew himself, and it only took half a cycle of him being a no-show for his friend to go searching.
"H-Hey, Jackie, what're ya doing down here?" Bulkhead's massive helm peered over a thick strand of cabling. "You know this is the maintenance shaft for the ground bridge?"
Wheeljack bit back a sarcastic remark; Bulkhead rarely, if ever, deserved the bite he could put out. "Yeah, s'why I picked it. Nice and quiet."
"Oh." Bulkhead paused, one pede dangling mid-step. "I can, uh, come back later?"
"Nah." Wheeljack folded his wings tight against his back, wedging in the corner to make room for his friend. "Always got time for you, Bulk."
Bulkhead smiled happily as he settled in, shoving a few cables out of the way. "So, uh... What's bothering ya?"