Disclaimer: I do not own Tracks, Raoul, or any other characters associated with Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Don't sue me.

Note: I have no idea what to call this. Really. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them, please! I'll credit you for your title!
UPDATE: Herongale most definitely won with her title: "The Devil's in the Details"! She gave two other suggestions, "Buff and Wax Included" and "The Pavement is Hot in New York City", both of which will appear as chapter titles. Which gave me a wickedly awesome idea: I'm calling for you, the readers, to suggest chapter titles for me to work around in this fanfic! Again, thank Herongale for inspiring me to continue this with chapters!

Note 2: This was originally supposed to get a little dirtier, but I decided against it at the last minute, not wanting to overdo it. I might do something with a little more "oomph" later, lol.

Warnings: Mech/Human slash pairing: Tracks/Raoul. Nothing major, just a little fluff and a sexy, shorts-wearing Raoul, lol.

Chapter 1
Buff and Wax Included

"Car washin', only five bucks!"

"No need to spend huge amounts at the wash, just hop over here and let the Bop Crew take care of ya!"

Tracks pulled to a stop, amused. The heat that summer was practically peeling his paint job, and it hadn't looked like the human population was doing much better. But at least his young friends were finding a way to keep things cool. Pop-Lock and Rocksteady were flagging people and their cars into the driveway of an old car garage, holding a sign and playing loud music on their boom box to get attention. Raoul, meanwhile, was scrubbing away at the one car that was there. It wasn't exactly a booming business, but they seemed to be having fun.

"Hey, slackers! Get over here and give me a hand before I go on strike!" he yelled over.

"Yeah, yeah, we're… yowza!" Pop-Lock's eyes bugged out as a couple of hot girls stepped out of a car.

"Hey, is there a chance we can get a quick carwash?" one of them asked, fluttering her long eyelashes. "We're on our way to a killer party."

"Tell ya what," Pop-Lock said smoothly. "We'll wash it right now on the house if you let us tag along."

"Sure, sounds killer," the other girl giggled.

"Sweet," Rocksteady grinned. "Hey, Raoul! Come over here and help us wash this car! We're goin' to a party after!"

Raoul snorted at them. "No thanks, I'm not skippin' this gig just cause you'd rather groove with a couple 'a chicks!"

"Fine, spoil sport!" They made faces at him, starting work on the car.

Tracks, meanwhile, pulled in next to the car Raoul was working on. "Well, you look like you're having fun."

Raoul jumped, not having noticed him. "Whoa, Tracks, don't do that! You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"My apologies," Tracks said, though he laughed.

The Latino boy tried to look mad, but then grinned. "Ah, I can't stay mad at you," he said, going back to drying the car he was working on. It was shining from top to bottom, an impressive job, Tracks had to admit, for being done by one human boy. "What brings you around here on this fine, scorching day?"

"Scorching is right," Tracks groaned. "I don't think I've ever felt this overheated!"

Raoul smirked, throwing the towel to the side. "Well, I'm all done with this one, whaddaya say I give you a wash? It'd keep us both cool."

"I don't exactly carry cash on me," the corvette pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're my main machine, remember?" Raoul winked at him. "I think I can give you a discount. Hell, I'll give it to you on the house. And you don't even have to take me to a party."

"Hey, you done with my car, kid?" a man asked, walking up.

"Yes, sir, just got done," Raoul turned to him, smiling.

The man walked around the car, inspecting it. "Nicely done, I'm impressed. You were surprisingly thorough."

"Thanks, sir. I take cars very seriously. After all, some of them have a lot of personality." He winked at the Autobot next to him again.

Raoul waved the man off and turned back to Tracks, who still sat in his corvette mode. He figured it might scare away Raoul's customer if he suddenly transformed there next to his car. "Alright then, Tracks," he said, leaning against the Autobot's hood. "You want just a hose-down, or a full wash?"

"You're kidding, right?" Tracks scoffed. "If you just, as you put it, gave me a 'hose-down' I would develop water spots all over my paintjob. Not exactly attractive."

Raoul rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You know, maybe you have a little too much personality."

"Don't tempt me, I could hit you pretty well from this angle with my doors."

The Latino held up his hands, laughing. "Sorry, sorry! I take it back!" he said, picking up the sponge out of the bucket.

"You aren't intending to use the same water you did with the other cars! That water has to be filthy!"

Raoul dropped the sponge, rolling his eyes. "Dios mio! You are the most demanding customer I've had all day!"

Tracks snorted. "And how many have you had today?" He honestly didn't mean to be condescending, it just came naturally. Luckily, Raoul was very light-hearted about it.

"May not have been many, but they at least didn't complain as much as you," he teased, dumping the water out into a nearby drain. He then dumped some liquid soap in it, turning the hose on to fill it back up.

"They likely didn't have a chassis as nice as mine, either. I deserve special treatment," Tracks continued the banter. "Which reminds me, that better not be generic soap."

Raoul couldn't take it anymore. He turned the hose around, spraying his robot friend. "Don't mind me, just making sure I'm thorough," he said casually as Tracks made a surprised sound. "You know, it's a good idea to wet the car down before you wash it."

"You have no sense of humor," Tracks muttered. "Well, I'm certainly feeling a bit cooler, at any rate."

"I haven't even started yet," Raoul grinned, turning off the water. He carried the bucket over and sat it down, wiping the sweat from his forehead and gazing up at the sun. It was afternoon, and ninety degrees. Like the rest of the humans, he dressed light for the occasion, wearing only a pair of jean shorts, a tank top that was likely white at some point in time but was now a slightly yellowish-off-white, and a pair of sneakers. His hair was still back in it's ponytail, though he left the bandana off. "Man, I think I'm gonna whither away in this heat."

He then picked up the sponge again, this time with clean water, and started scrubbing at Tracks' hood. Tracks almost shuddered at the feel of it. Raoul certainly had a knack for rubbing a car the right way, even if he wasn't aware of it. Using just the right amount of pressure, just the right length of strokes…

"You alright, man?"

"Yes, yes, fine," Tracks said quickly. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, this is most invigorating." Yeah, invigorating. That was a nice, clean word.

"You were just kinda quiet there for a moment. It was eerie not hearing you talk about yourself."

"Oh, hardy-har-har," Tracks replied, though it was all in good humor. "So, who's idea was it to open up this car wash?" He decided to make conversation. It would at least keep his mind off of the soft but strong hands working at his hood and - presumably - keep him from saying or doing something he'd later regret.

"It was those guys' idea. I went along with it cause they had me thinkin' it was gonna be a joint effort. I shoulda known better. The only 'hard work' they do is break dancing. Otherwise, they push it all on me."

"Hey, Raoul!" Rocksteady called as the car they'd finished in record time - having incentive - pulled around to him. "Come on, let's go to that party!"

"Guys, I can't leave Tracks half-washed and covered in soap," the Latino boy sighed.

"You named your car?" one of the girls scoffed. The other laughed.

Tracks got irritated by them making fun of his best friend. "There are only two things wrong with that question," he said. "One, I'm no one's car, and two, he certainly didn't name me."

The girls looked taken aback. "Ohmigosh, that car just talked!" one said excitedly.

Her friend was just as excited. "Ohmigosh, I'll bet it's one of those… you know… those Cyber-bots!"

"That's Autobots," Raoul corrected slightly irritated.

"Well, you can both come along if you'd like!" the one who said the name wrong gushed. "All of our friends would be so jealous if we brought an Autobot to the party!"

"No thanks, as I said, I have to finish this washing," Raoul replied.

"Oh, come on," the other girl batted her eyelashes at him this time. "I'd really love for you to come along."

Pop-Lock cut in. "That won't work on him, just so you know. He's not, you know, into that."

"Why not?" she looked confused for a moment. Realization then came. "Oooh, you mean he's… well, I don't see that as a problem. I mean, I don't care. He can still come."

"He said no thank you," Tracks said a bit more forcefully. He had to refrain from turning to robot mode to get his point across.

"Alright, sheesh," she said, huffing. "Well, if you want to join later, here's the address." She materialized a piece of paper and handed it to Raoul. "See ya!"

They watched the four drive off, Raoul shaking his head. "Man, some people can be pushy."

"What did they mean, Raoul?"

"What?" Raoul looked down at his friend.

"When they said you're 'not into that'," Tracks clarified.

"Oh, that," Raoul looked a bit embarrassed. "They just meant, well… you know… girls. I'm not… not into girls."

"Oh," Tracks replied. "So?"

"Whaddaya mean, 'so'?" Raoul asked in disbelief.

"I mean, why did they think that should have been a big deal?"

Raoul made a face at him. "You're kiddin', right?" There was a silence he took to mean 'no'. He sighed. "I guess you wouldn't get it. I mean, you don't seem to have different genders where you're from, if you and your buddies are any indication."

"Well, that's an unfair assumption. Though it's true we don't have 'genders' in the same sense as you humans, we do have mechs, like my team and I, and femmes, which I suppose I can say are like your females. The differences are superficial though, like different models of cars."

"Yeah, lucky," the Latino boy muttered.

A long silence passed as Raoul continued his handiwork. He meticulously washed every nook and cranny of Tracks' chassis, running fingers through creases to make sure he got them. The corvette didn't know how much more he could take. The pleasuring was practically torturous.

"You know," he finally said, breaking the silence. "That's not to say that bots don't have preferences."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. Some bots prefer femmes over mechs and vice-versa. Though the differences are, as I said, superficial, some find them more appealing. We simply don't make a fuss about a bot's choices."

"Again, lucky," Raoul sighed, gently wiping down one of Tracks' rims. "So, what do you prefer?"

"Oh, I've tried both," Tracks assured him. "I didn't find the femmes particularly appealing."

"So you like mechs?" Raoul smiled at his reflection in the rim. He knew there was something of a kinship between him and Tracks.

"Oh, I never said that."

That took the Latino boy off guard. "Okay, you can't just not like anyone. I mean, that's weird. Even for a giant, alien car-robot."

Tracks chuckled. "I never said I didn't like anyone. While I do enjoy the company of mechs vastly more than femmes, the one I like is neither."

Raoul stared at him. "Okay, now you're just confusin' me. You can't like someone that's neither."

"Well, I also never said the one I like is one of my own species."

"Oh." There was a silence as Raoul absorbed that shocking piece of information. "So… is it someone I know?"

"Oh, you know him quite well."

"If it's one of my crew we might have a problem."

"Oh, you could say that."

"You saw them ridin' off with those girls, dude."

Tracks laughed this time. "You really aren't the brightest member of your species, Raoul."

"Hey," the young man stood up, pouting and throwing the rag he held onto Tracks' hood, turning around and folding his arms with a huff. "Look, just cause you're not giving me much to work with doesn't mean…" He trailed off. The pieces were finally clicking into place. He turned slowly as he heard the tell-tale sound of his companion transforming into his robot mode. A hand greeted him, and he silently hopped on. It was too much, he wasn't sure how it was even possible, honestly…

Tracks lifted the perplexed teenager to his warm smile. "I know you probably don't understand, and frankly I have a hard time myself. But you are an oddly appealing young human, Raoul."

Raoul smiled back after a moment, reaching up and nuzzling his companion's faceplate. "You're not so bad yourself… you know, for a robot."