Warnings: Yandere/obession, hinted future non con
Summary: Breakdown befriends a sleek handsome mech who has started to frequent the bar he frequents, completely unaware he's the object of the handsome mech's deranged obsession.
What is Yandere? A yandere is a person romantically obsessed with someone to the point of using violent means to get them in their arms. They have a nice side and an evil side. They quickly change from the nice side to the evil side, and repeat again and again.
Side notes: I've been playing with yandere idea and this started out as just an exercise to get into the whole "yandere" frame of mind. And I'm enjoying it so I decided to post it. Not beta edited, sorry.
Decacycle = about a week
Knock Out's thoughts in italics
Part 1 of ?
This had to be one of the worst cycles Breakdown had experienced in awhile.
It took effort just for him to drag himself to his favorite bar. Favorite meaning it wasn't usually overly crowded, the bartender knew what he liked, and the rest usually left him alone. Which is exactly what he wanted to be right now, left alone.
His usual drink appeared before him, prompting him to glance up. The bartender's face held question but Breakdown just quietly murmuring his thanks as he dropped his gaze to stare into his drink. Watching the shape of the bartender finally wander away from the edge of his vision.
Everything had been going so well. The femme he'd been seeing had seemed so genuinely interested in him. She'd been a breath of fresh air, a welcomed break from the loud brawling chaos that were his brothers. She'd been a comfort and he had so few.
Heaving a sigh, he finally took a drink. He could hardly taste it. Everything felt numb, even taste was dulled.
A sudden flash of red by his side drew his attention. He tilted his head slightly to look, to confirm. Yep, there he was, settling himself down on the seat next to him, the flashy red mech that had over the past five or six decacycles now become his drinking buddy. Whenever Breakdown came here to drink, the red mech, Knock Out, usually followed. He assumed they must work similar shifts. Or something. He'd never bothered to ask.
Now Breakdown didn't like to admit to being jealous of anyone but he had held some jealously towards Knock Out. Had. After all, the mech was perfect. It seemed so unfair. He was shorter, only standing to Breakdown's chest plate, barely reaching his shoulders, but this certainly didn't count against him. Unlike himself, Knock Out didn't tower over others. Nor did he have Breakdown's bulk, so he didn't come off as intimidating.
And where Breakdown had been build for strength and power, Knock Out was built for grace and speed. Which appealed more to the general population. Knock Out could've been an easy stand in for a racer, which were always popular. And his plating….Primus! So shiny and flawless and glossy, the mech practically glowed even in the dimmed lights of bar.
Breakdown, embarrassed as he was to admit it, had even tried glossing himself up. Worked for Knock Out, could work for him, right? Looking at his refection, in the privacy of his own room…he had looked fake and cheap and like he was desperately trying to be something he wasn't. It had been humiliating.
He snuck another glance at the red mech. Breakdown was sure he didn't have any problems attracting femmes or mechs, whichever his preference may be. Though he'd never once seen Knock Out make a pass or try to take anyone home with him. Didn't matter, could probably have any femme or mech he wanted just by walking up to them and asking. Not like Breakdown, no, he had to work just to get noticed.
He had no idea why the mech continued to come and drink at this bar, not when he could easily get into higher class establishments on appearance alone. He seemed so out of place here. When asked, he'd claimed he liked the "atmosphere". But no one came here for the "atmosphere", there wasn't any. The bar was cheap, a little dingy, and it catered to the lower class. If Breakdown had to take a guess, he'd peg Knock Out as a Towers mech. Atmosphere. That sounded like something a Towers mech would say.
Knock Out wasn't the kind of individual Breakdown usually associated with and, originally, hadn't wanted to. Knock Out was class, style, and elegance. Breakdown was…none of those. And the last thing he wanted or needed was to sit and speak with the very vision of everything he wasn't.
But Knock Out was nothing if not friendly and engaging. Almost overly so. And not to everyone but specifically to Breakdown himself.
Knock Out would often ignore the attention of others in favor of drawing him into conversations. Breakdown had sometime ago chalked it up to the fact he didn't try to hit Knock Out up for a roll in the berth. He could imagine someone like Knock Out growing tired of offers and propositions. Given his own preference for femmes, he'd never thought to proposition the red mech. Which was probably why Knock Out liked talking with him, there were no ulterior motives between them. Just two mechs enjoying a few drinks and sharing in some idle conversation at a bar.
He wasn't usually one to speak much about himself, yet Knock Out always seemed interested in what he had to say or what he'd done recently. No one had ever shown that much interest in him. It was flattering. Winning him over. Making his jealously toward the sleek mech feel uncalled for and petty. If anything, Knock Out had swiftly becoming the closest thing to a friend, a true friend, Breakdown had ever known.
Knock Out swiveled in his seat slightly, finally turned to him and Breakdown realize how tired he looked, lacking his normal energy. The red mech met his gaze, offering up a wan smile. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd had a horrible cycle.
Breakdown waited till the bartender had set Knock Out's drink down and left. "Look tired. You ok?"
Knock Out felt his lips suddenly flare into a smile, something happy and genuine, red optics warming, focusing on the source. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for asking, Breakdown."
You have no idea how much that means to me.
Breakdown nodded, gaze returning to his drink. Knock Out let a few quiet moments pass before shifting in his seat, catching the larger mech's attention once more. "You seem rather down this cycle. Anything wrong?"
You can tell me. You can tell me anything
He watched broad shoulders sag as the larger mech sighed. "I…." Breakdown hesitated, not really wanting to dive back into the memory of why he was sitting here, depressed. But on the other hand, who else but Knock Out would listen, really listen, and maybe even actually care. "I…uh…"
He hesitated again, thick fingers fidgeting with his drink for a moment before turning and facing Knock Out, leaning in closer so he didn't have to speak too loudly. "You remember that femme I was telling you about? Started seeing her a few decacycles ago?"
Knock Out nodded. "Yes."
How could I forget about her?
"Well, I wanted to see her today."
Knock Out struggled to control the frown that wanted to form at hearing that. Breakdown didn't notice, optics once again on his drink. "I tried calling, several times, but got no answer. So, I thought I'd show up and, you know, surprise her. She gave me the code to her place last time we got together. So, I just went up, typed in the code, and went in. " Breakdown looked at Knock Out, mouth bordering on a snarl. "Know what I walked in on?"
I have a pretty good idea.
"Her fragging this other mech!" Breakdown shook his head, gaze downcast, mouth twisting in disgust. "Can you believe that?"
And when I say terrible, I mean wonderful.
Breakdown heaved sigh, leaning against the bar. "She gave me the code to her place. Said she trusted me when she gave it to me. Thought that was suppose to mean something."
Her giving you that code to her place meant nothing. You were wasted on that stupid femme. She couldn't appreciate you properly. She sure as slag wasn't faithful. I know, I was the one who paid a very handsome mech to seduce her over a decacycle ago. Didn't take much to get her horizontal on a berth.
Oh but Breakdown you needed to be shown just how wrong she was for you.. You have no idea the amount of time I dedicated to this set up. To ensure they would be there, interfacing, when you walked in. A lot of time. But I…..I don't mind. Not when it's for you. You're worth it.
Knock Out reached out, curling a hand gently over a blue plated shoulder. "I'm sorry, Breakdown."
And I mean that. I am. I never want to hurt you, that's never my intention, but she had to go. She was a distraction to you, a barrier between us that needed to be dealt with and removed. I'm sure you would've left her on your own if you could have but she had a way of blinding you to the problem. It had to stop. And for it to stop, I knew I'd have to take matters into my own hands. Don't worry though, I'm not angry with you. Deceitful femme that she was, this was her fault, not yours.
Breakdown nodded, Knock Out's gesture was comforting and appreciated. Far better than the cruel taunts his brothers would have thrown at him if he had dared to confided in any of them. Breakdown figured even a mech like Knock Out had probably seen his share of unpleasant relationship ends.
He was once again struck with the realization he didn't know that much about Knock Out. Maybe it'd help if he weren't the subject of this evenings conversation. Let the wound heal a bit. Turning, he faced his drinking companion once again. "You gotta job, right?"
The sudden change in subject seem to take Knock Out by surprise, he looked a little confused but still nodded.
"What do you do?"
The red mech stilled, looking at him, optics growing distant as he repeated the question. "What do I do?"
I follow you.
Been following you. Ever since that night I looked out the window and saw you.
Your brother had come to the brothel intent on tasting some of the delights the high life has to offer. This wasn't one of those cheap brothels with thinned high grade and femmes and mechs whose frames were dirty and scrapped, who looked like they were carrying viruses even if they weren't.
No. This was a Towers brothel. You were subjected to background and financial checks just to be accepted as a client and even then most were put on a waiting list. That is, unless you had the proper credits and reputation then you could walk right in the front door. No questions asked. Like I did. I didn't even know there was a waiting list, not till another mech I worked with told me.
You went there to collect your brother, who I'm quite sure lied about his identity or stole another's to even become a client, let alone be let inside. I know, I had a background check run on him (you and all your brothers actually) and if they had known the truth, he never would have set foot in there.
You were angry, having had to chase him down like an errant youngling. Your optics bright, your voice full of passion. You radiated such strength and intensity and in the dim light of the street lamps you were beautiful. Breath takingly beautiful.
I was waiting for the mech I was with that evening to get my favorite drink. He'd never forgotten it before, strange he'd forgotten it this one time. But if he hadn't, I'd have never bothered to look out that window and see you. Primus works in strange ways, doesn't he? That's what they say, right? It was fate….or destiny. Something that was just meant to be. I could feel it then.
It's even stronger now.
I didn't mean to follow you home. Not really. I just wanted to see you, up close. Learn your name. And I did. Your eldest brother yelled it as he rained insults down on you. You'd done what he'd asked, hadn't you? You shouldn't be treated like that. I'd never treat you like that.
I also learned where you recharged that night. Second floor, back room on the right. You even have a small balcony outside your room. You can look right in and see your recharge berth. I know, I climbed up to it, sat in it's shadows and watched you recharge. Not for very long, I didn't want you to wake and see me. That's…..not the first impression I wanted you to have of me.
But I came back the next cycle. And watched. And the cycle after that. And the cycle after that. And the cycle after that….
I wasn't stalking you. Stalking is such a negative word. I was just curious. I just wanted to see you. To know you. Know how you spent your cycles. Where you went, what you did, who you talked to, what you talked about, what you said, what you're thinking. So...I followed you. Committing everything to memory. And every eve, I'd follow you back to your shared home, wait till your room went dark then climb back up to your balcony and watch you for awhile.
I could see objects decorating the few shelves in your room. They weren't defined but hidden, distorted under the black of night. I wanted to go in. Just to look. Just to see. Just to touch maybe an object or two, as you would. Carefully. I'd never be so disrespectful as to break anything. Never. I just want to see, to touch, to maybe…..take some keepsake with me. Something small. So small, you'd never miss it, never know it was gone. A memento. Of you. Of yours….that I can touch when I'm not with you.
I never got that opportunity, your brothers are very intrusive. Annoyingly so. If things do not go as planned tonight, I might have to take the matter of your brothers into my own hands as well and remove them. Permanently. Mechs all over Cybertron fall victim to untimely accidents and you may not know this about me but I'm very good at arranging untimely accidents. You wouldn't miss them. You don't even really need them anyway, you have me now.
Then I discovered you had a penchant for visiting this bar. While the idea of going through your room was appealing, the opportunity to sit next to you was by far the better of all options. Here, I can speak to you, get to know you through your own words, feel your energy field just next to mine, touch you. A tantalizing taste of what's to come for us.
I'm ready for that next step and, even though you may not know it yet, I'm sure…no...no, I know you are ready as well.
He suddenly smiled, almost shyly. "I'm….I'm a medic."
"Medic!" Breakdown suddenly laughed…it actually felt good, easing his mood just a little bit. "Slag, Knock Out, is there anything about you that's not over the top and amazing?"
Knock Out's smile lit up, optics fixed on Breakdown, a dreamy haze in their depths. Breakdown thought of him, thought of him favorably. Just called him amazing. Out loud no less. It was further proof of Breakdown's usually unspoken affections for him.
Laughter subsiding, Breakdown shook his head as he took a drink. "Why do you come here? You're a medic, you could go anywhere. Somewhere a lot nicer than here."
That earned Breakdown another winning smile. "I like the company here."
The medic smiled to himself. As if Breakdown didn't already know. They both knew why he came here, it was obvious, even if Breakdown didn't like to voice acknowledgement. He was just shy vocalizing his feelings. And as endearing as it was, Knock Out would have to work with him on that.
He wanted to hear those words from Breakdown, those three simple words. I love you. He wanted…no…no, he needed to hear them. And he would.
Breakdown would say them to him, many times...even if he had to force the words from Breakdown's throat himself.
It's been awhile! I've been playing a lot over on Live Journal as an anon. When the yandere topic came up on a meme I was very interested, it's an interesting and scary genre. I have several Knock Out/Breakdown yandere stories in my note book. Don't know how many I'll actually post but I've been having fun dabbling in it.
Reading and reviewing is always loved and appreciated! :)