Chapter Text
Brawl didn’t have a chance to answer before Wing produced a dampened cloth to wipe across the other’s face. He flinched, but the waiter gently clasped a servo against the back of his helm. “Gah... what gives?”
“Pardon my intrusion, but I am not accustomed to giving sponge baths in the middle of dinner service, Monsieur.” That cloth was wiped at the chin before wiping the mess up on his chest. “I must say, I adore how much you enjoy devouring your food...nothing is better than providing a mech with such a satisfying feast...But I must warn you, some of the guests are starting to complain.”
Brawl snorted out a laugh, but the look on the flyer’s face remained serious. Looking down, he saw his front was splattered with sauce. “Ah... yeah... I’m sorry. Just not used to this fancy dining, I suppose...”
“Your food isn’t going anywhere.” Wing curtly nodded as the rest of the mess on the tank's chest was wiped. “Take your time to lavish each bite. Feel the texture...taste the savory flavors... experience all this fine cuisine has to offer.”
“Yeah... yeah... I will.”
“Have...have you decided on your next dish?”
Brawl let out a cough as he leaned back, exposing his rounded belly that had some drips of cheese. As soon as he made optic contact with the elegant flyer, he smiled as he gestured to his tummy.
Wing blushed as he stifled a smile.
“Don’t suppose ya want me giving a low review for bad service, huh?”
Wing’s mouth opened in shock before regaining composure. “Ah...as you wish.” With a slightly trembling servo, that cloth napkin gently pressed against that belly, scooping up hints of cheese and sauce. And now that the flyer leaned in close, the heat wafting from the toiled engines was felt. While no cooling fans were running and no engines were flat-out revving, it was clear the server was enjoying himself, but well-practiced in restraint.
But true to his dedication to serve, that belly was soon wiped clean. The greens of his plating shone, and the dark grays of his protomesh no longer were slathered in sauce. “Now, as I was saying.” Wing subspaced the dirty napkin, but his optics never left the swell of that tummy. “What shall your next dish for the evening be?”
“Well, I never had this beef stroganoff stuff... how is that?”
“It is a delicious dish, loaded with hearty chunks of cyberbeef, freshly picked and sliced button mushrooms, and diced onions to give it such a nice zing. And that sauce is ever so creamy. Do you like sour cream?”
“Ahhh, I love that stuff.” Brawls' belly grumbled. “Load that on top of a crystal baked potato.... magnificent.”
“Well, the sauce is made from sour cream, which gives it that nice tang, savory beef broth, and is loaded with butter. I think this dish will perfectly appease your taste receptors. And I shall bring you out some fresh bread to enjoy along with it, if you wish.” Finally, the flyer's optics rose to meet the others. A tinge of blush reddened his cheeks.
Brawl gave a toothy grin.
“Yeah... I’ll give that a go.”
“As you wish, Monsieur.” Wing smiled, optic contact lingering for a bit before coyly turning away to head back to the kitchen.
Brawl watched him go, spark swirling slightly faster inside his chassis. Was what he was seeing correct? Those kind smiles... wandering optics... playful jabs.... were they made in interest? And just why would he be interested? Wing was refined and eloquent, whereas he was brutish and...well, slobbish. Social interactions were never his strong point, and reading between the lines was next to impossible. Brawl shrugged. The server probably was just being polite. It was his job, after all.
The service was fast here. Wing returned with a large plate of stroganoff and a basket loaded with bread. The meal was set down, and Brawl couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of the wide egg noodles that were drowning in thick, creamy broth, beef, and mushrooms. Specks of green parsley littered the top, adding a hint of color to the relatively neutral colored meal.
“This looks amazing,” Brawl said as he retrieved his fork.
“The dishes are like works of art to be admired before digging into and enjoying their flavorful tastes.” Wing admitted. “As of which I am sure you’ll love.”
“Yeah,” His belly grumbled greedily just looking at the dish.
“You’re a mech of plentiful words, I see,” Wing smiled as the green mech looked confused. “Eat up and enjoy your meal.”
Brawl gave a genuine smile, yielding to his curiosity. His optics locked onto the server’s golden ones, testing the other’s reaction. A warm smile returned from the flyer, optics softening as the gaze continued. Wing bowed slightly, licking his lips.
“Is there anything else you needed, Monsieur?” The light colored mech’s frame was relaxed but courteous, wings gently fanning behind him. The intense optic contact continued, and that smile never left his face.
Would it be improper to ask for him to be served on a plate?
And the way Wing’s optics widened upon thinking those thoughts made the tank blush, fearing he spoke that out loud. He didn’t, he knew that- but the giddiness that surged through his circuits was enough to tingle his insides. Either this food was laced with something special, or after years of being alone, this mech caught his fancy.
“Ah... I...I think I’m good.”
“Sure about that, big guy?” A mischievous grin adorned the waiter's face.
“Y-yeah... yeah....” The heat flushing to his cheeks was embarrassing, and he diverted his optics back to his dish. For someone so bold and brazen out on the battlefield, he sure crumbled easily under this kind of pressure. Or rather, attention.
“I shall leave you to your meal.” Wing smiled. “Enjoy.”
Once again, he was left alone to eat. The meal tasted delicious- the noodles were soft and buttery, and the thinly sliced beef was hearty and savory, adding a nice saltiness to the meal. The button mushrooms chewed like soft rubber and gave an earthy yet nutty flavor, but the onions provided a nice little zing. Each mouthful brought on a wave of comfort and a sense of home. Each dip of that warm, fresh bread tasted like a slice of nirvana.
But the flavors of the tasty meal were not strong enough to distract from these newfound feelings. Just how was he to act upon them? How was he to make the move to ask for more? Slag, how hard can this be? Vortex managed to snag himself a medic, and just look at all the flubs those dates consisted of. Brawl remembered the whole fiasco with Blast Off’s crush on Onslaught.
Wincing, perhaps this was harder than initially imagined.
Another thing that was harder than he thought was his belly. Now filled with three large platters of pasta, the protomesh now ballooned out as if he were a beach ball. He felt heavy. He felt full. He felt satisfied. And as the last of the stroganoff was shoveled in his mouth, his tummy rumbled out happy little groans of being satiated with such a decadent feast. What a meal! Leaning back and closing his optics, Brawl sucked in a deep cooling breath, then exhaled.
“I hope you saved room for dessert.”
Brawl startled, opening his optics to be greeted with a plate full of long, tasty-looking rolls that were bursting at the sides with colored cream and covered in chocolate chips. They resembled mozzarella sticks but were sweets instead. “Are those... cannoli’s?”
“They sure are.” Wing proudly beamed as the plate was set down. “I was confident you would recognize these delicacies.”
Oh, he knew of these rolled-up goodies: knew you had to sneak them from Blast Off, that is. And now, there were half a dozen lined neatly up on a long platter just for him to enjoy. His belly warbled out a groan, and Wing’s expression went from joy to concern.
“Oh, I do hope you have room for some of these delights!” Wing cooed. “This is our-“
“Let me guess....” Brawl grimaced as another turbulent growl rang out. “Your signature dessert?”
Wing sheepishly smiled and gently nodded his helm. “Goes perfectly with a nice warm cup of ener-coffee.” A decorative pot was held up, steam wafting from the spout. “Can I interest you in a cup?”
That warm cup of joe sounded good. And while he was pretty full, those cannolis were calling out his name. But what really sealed the deal was the way Wing eagerly looked at him as if craving the feast to continue. His smile was welcoming, his optics glowing warmly as the pot of warm drink was eagerly held out.
“Ahhhhh, I dunno...” Brawl grimaced, jiggling his noisy belly. “I’m kinda full, you know...”
“Oh, there sure is room for dessert. Especially with such divine treats such as these.” His servo fanned out, beckoning to the rolled delights. “We have crystal cheesecake- the filling is very sweet and rich, loaded with strawberries inside a thick, crunchy crust. Or chocolate lava cannoli. When you bite into this, there is an eruption of such rich, melted chocolate.”
His belly whined and gurgled.
Wing smiled smugly and poured that cup of ener-coffee.
So much for holding out. He shook his helm and sighed, then selected a light pink cannoli that dripped bright red filling out its edges. Just seeing the colorful treat made his mouth water! When he opened his mouth, the sweetness was tasted long before the dessert entered his mouth. And when that treat entered his mouth, the deep-fried shell crunched between his denta, and the goopy insides exploded over his tongue. The red filling tasted like perfectly ripened strawberries. The light pink cream was sweet and creamy, tasting of cheesecake filling but wrapped in a tiny tube of deliciousness.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmm.....” Brawl hummed, closing his optics to fully take in the taste of the dessert. The chocolate mixed with the strawberries was a nice touch: the chocolate’s slight bitterness contrasted nicely with the berries’ tartness. The rest of the cylindrical treat was demolished on the second bite. Crumbles from the crispy shell rained down upon his chest and table.
“That good, I see.” Wing smiled, bringing out a little container and a little spoon.
“These are amazing!” A second one, filled with chocolate and a light green filling, was selected.
“Sugar?”
“Yeah?” Brawl questioned, only to see Wing holding a decorative container open with a small spoon full of light pink sugar.
The flyer chuckled. “For your coffee.”
“Oh, ah... yes. Yes, please.” Brawl smiled, watching the scoop of sweetness drop in. “Keep it comin’. I like it extra sweet.” His current chosen cannoli was filled with mint and chocolate. The mint was refreshing and strong, almost like eating a mouthful of peppermint candy. And the chunks of chocolate provided a nice, crunchy texture. The two paired together nicely to create such an enjoyable taste.
“As you wish.” Another spoonful was scooped. “Just tell me when.” Once again, an awkward silence played out as several scoops of sugar were dropped into the cup. Wing even slowed down on the scooping once four were added, but it wasn’t until a polite cough rang out that the tank refocused his attention.
“Awwllright...Dasss eenuff.” His optics widened as a servo covered his mouth that was full of cannoli. Once the second one was swallowed, he smiled. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
Wing nodded as the spoon clinked against the side of the mug. “How about some cream?”
“Sure.” Brawl licked his fingers clean, then selected his third rolled delight. No choice in how much cream was given, but once the contents turned into a nice mocha color, a final stir was given before the mug was placed in front of him.
“Give that a taste, Monsieur.” Wing purred.
The tank shook his helm, his mouth working overtime to chew his mouthful. He swallowed, then gasped a quick breath. Yes, this dessert was to die for, but his belly was getting stuffed: it bulged out, nearly pressing against the side of the table.
“Getting full?” Wing smirked.
Brawl just exhaled and took a sip of the warm drink. It was sweet and hinted of caramel thanks to the added cream. The warmth felt good, momentarily calming the beginnings of a tummy ache from overindulging in dessert. He took another hearty swing before eyeing the remaining cannolis.
“Did I do well?”
“Ah... yeah... the coffee is good.” His belly clenched, then shook as a loud whine erupted. This time the tankformer winced, servo now clutching his side. “Ooofff....”
“Is everything alright?” The flyer asked. “Is the beverage too hot?”
“Nah... nah...” Brawl stifled a hiccup. “It’s... It’s my belly... It’s so full.”
“Hmmmmmmm....” Wing faked a pout. “So, you can’t handle three more itty bitty cannoli’s?”
His belly let out another angry growl. “Wing....” He huffed, the weight of his belly making it harder for him to breathe as he panted to catch his breath. He took another sip of coffee, but the relief of the warm liquid was short-lived.
“Was your optics bigger than your belly?” That voice hinted at playful teasing. “I guess you couldn’t handle it after all, hmmmm?
With upturned optics, Brawl glanced at the remaining treats. As scrumptious as they looked- one looked like red velvet cake, another one leaked gooey, melted chocolate, while the other was loaded with thick orange cream, sprinkled with rainbow jimmies- his belly churned, and each grumble was accompanied by a growing ache. With a pitiful look, he glanced at Wing- whose face was full of smug pride. Clearly, he lost this battle.
“Allow me to fix you a to-go bag.” That grin remained slyly plastered to his face as his wings gently flicked behind him. Once the flyer disappeared behind the kitchen doors, Brawl exhaled, slouching in his booth. Truth was, he was stuffed halfway through the last pasta dish, but he was not one to back down from a challenge. And who could pass up on dessert? The Combaticon scowled at the last remaining sweets on the plate as if they mocked him in his defeat.
His dinner service was over. Wing returned with a decorative box in hand, and packing away the remaining dessert signaled the end of the evening. Would now be a good time to blurt out a pickup line of some sort? And just what should he say?
“I take it you enjoyed your feast?” The flyer’s golden optics smugly raked over that swollen frame.
The green mech managed a smile and gently patted his tummy. “Yeah. I can see why this is a four-star restaurant.” He stifled a burp. “Pardon me.”
“Of course, Monsieur.” Wing winked. “I am glad to hear you enjoyed your dining experience this evening and hope you grace us with your presence again.”
“Th..thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” Wing smiled, slipping a copy of the receipt face down in front of the stuffed tank before politely slipping away.
A final gulp of warm ener-coffee was consumed before noticing the receipt. His meal was already paid for thanks to the voucher (otherwise he couldn’t afford such an extravagant meal), but the fancy handwriting on the slip of paper caught his attention. After sitting back in his seat, Brawl snagged the receipt and flipped it over.
The handwriting was eloquent and fancy, curving as gracefully as its writer. ‘My shift ends in half a breem.”
And when the tank looked up and glanced over at the kitchen doors, Wing stood there with a grin on his face, optic ridges wagging in such a playful, inviting manner.