Chapter Text
(*** = change of POV)
Chromeblaze was humming contentedly to himself as he drove away from the posh address where he’d just delivered his merchandise. This particular delivery had taken quite some time to arrange, but the amount on the credit chip he now held safely stashed in his subspace had made it worth the while.
He was known for being able to get whatever a customer wanted, no matter how exotic or illegal, as long as they were willing to pay for it. And this particular customer had been. It actually amazed Chromeblaze how someone could pay such an obscene amount of creds merely to satisfy a kink, but then who was he to complain? It made his job all the more agreeable.
This assignment had been a tricky one, though, and all the false smiling and playing nice had really begun grating on his nerves. He wasn’t a particularly nice bot in any sense of the word but he looked good enough and could be devilishly charming when he put his mind to it. That was his greatest asset and finally it had paid off this time as well, even though it had taken too damn long.
The only thing he slightly regretted about the whole affair was that he didn’t get a real taste of the goods before it was delivered, but that had been the condition of the arrangement and he had to abide by it.
Putting it all behind him as nothing more than a profitable bit of business he kept driving and turned his focus to his next job.
***
The evening so far had been a complete success. He had started out at a fashionable bar, spending some time there with a couple of friends before moving on to an even more exclusive establishment with the most exquisite highgrade and a very… customer-friendly attitude to personal service, providing just about every kind of entertainment a wealthy mech or femme could dream of.
And then he had returned to his lavish top floor Tower’s suite for the ultimate climax of a perfect evening, something not even the most specialized clubs could offer. But with the right contacts and enough credits to burn, nothing was impossible. He had both in abundance.
The object of his purchase and subsequent conquest now lay quivering and sobbing on the floor of one of the berthrooms, while he himself had just come out from his wash rack and now sat on the couch in the lounge, enjoying some highgrade and slowly coming down from the high of three processor-blowing overloads. He already knew how he was going to continue once his systems had recovered a bit, and the mere thought made his circuits tingle.
Life was altogether enjoyable.
***
The young mech didn’t have any tears left. He merely lay where he - laughing and promising to be back for more soon - had dropped him, staring at the ceiling with an unseeing gaze, optics almost white with pain. His entire being swiveled in a maelstrom of anguish, shame and a spark-shattering feeling of betrayal. He had trusted Chromeblaze, had loved him and thought himself loved in return. He had thought the silver mech was The One, that perfect love, the mech he would give up his seals and, in time, his very spark to.
And Chromeblaze had betrayed him, had seduced him only to sell him like a common piece of goods. The young mech wasn’t sure what hurt more at that moment, his abused frame or his shattered spark. He couldn’t even think clearly.
What he did know was that it was all too much to bear.
Forcing his painfully throbbing limbs to comply he slowly dragged himself across the floor towards the balcony door, leaving a trail of mixed fluids on the floor. With a herculean effort he pushed himself up on his knees and after a few attempts he managed to get the door open. Stumbling out into the cool air he grabbed hold of the guardrail and heaved himself to his pedes, desperation giving him strength.
For a few seconds he merely stood there, looking out over the city without really seeing any of it.
Then, with one last thought of apology directed at his creators, Bluestreak leaned over the banister and allowed himself to fall.
TBC