Domestic Derps 5Breakdown baked out of hobby. It was something to do with his servos that wasn’t medical work and training. It was, as far as he was concerned, the only art he could ever make.
As such, he was extremely protective of his creations. Everything from the ingredients to the dough or batter to the finished product was monitored under his watchful gaze. And after living with Knock Out for so long, he knew the medic had next to no self-control whenever Breakdown was in one of his baking moods.
Double chocolate chip cookies had been running low out of their cookie jar, along with snicker doodles and peanut butter sugar cookies. He had a few late shifts at the hospital coming up, and while Knock Out was more of a morning person and tended to work earlier in the day, he spent many a night alone with no one but TV for company.
The least Breakdown could do is make it a bit sweeter for him.
That did not mean, however, that Knock Out had free reign to grab samples before they were ready
Domestic Derps 4Knock Out prided himself on his sexuality and physical allure. It was one of his selling points, as far as he was concerned. But a careful buffing and waxing could only go so far; it was really his self confidence that really sold his look.
No matter how hard he tried to keep Breakdown looking shimmering, the bigger mech just didn’t…get it. And Knock Out understood why…sort of.
Breakdown didn’t have a lot of care for how he looked physically. He knew he was big, and he kept himself in shape – he was a “built” big, not a “fluffy” big – but for shine and armor maintenance, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
That was all well and good, of course. Didn’t mean Knock Out was happy with it though.
“Aw c’mon, just one day without this discussion, one day KO,” the bigger mech groaned, flopping onto the couch. They’d since reinforced that end of the couch – the side closest to the kitchen
Domestic Derps 3“Try to avoid the rocks, Breakdown,” Knock Out muttered, distracted as he flipped through his phone. “Can’t have coffee spilling all over me, can we?”
Breakdown, however, was more than happy to do what Knock Out asked of him. Contently marching along, he toted behind his smaller lover in a little blue wagon. What had started as a much needed grocery stop turned into a coffee-and-wagon-run. Originally the wagon was going to be for the groceries, but it had turned into a lazy Decepticon carrying machine.
This particular spring day was refreshingly cool, the colder winds from the north spreading the cherry blossoms over the path Breakdown walked on. The city skyline was visible through the trees bordering the town’s plaza, sharp grey shapes against a soft blue sky. Taking a jovial sip of his own coffee, the bruiser made a small noise of agreement to his mate’s warning.
Knock Out, content that Breakdown was still listening to him, continued on with
Domestic Derps 2Sometimes life was just too serious.
That’s why Knock Out raced and poured time and effort into his physique. It’s also why Breakdown both lifted and created energon goodies that kept Knock Out coming back for more.
And sometimes they danced.
Silly, little things. Breakdown would leave the radio on in the kitchen as he puttered around the house, dancing a little bit to himself. Knock Out would race to his own music, and when he got home, do a few steps of a dance he choreographed himself.
Most times, they danced together.
Some stuff they picked up from the humans. Fox trot, waltz, tango, the Charleston (which Breakdown mastered but not after many, many lessons with Knock Out), and whatever they threw together by themselves.
With Knock Out as a dance partner, not all dances were strictly innocent. More than a few romps in the berth had begun with Knock Out choosing something from his personal playlist and proceeding to give Breakdown quite a show.
Neither mech minded
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