Nevada Winds - TFP

1.

Just gonna tell you that if there are any trigger warnings it'll be in the form of a comment at the top of the chapter. I don't like putting notes in stories for aesthetic purposes so this'll be the only time it's right here.

Kayde isn't related to the Yeager's from the Bayverse just cause he's got the same name.

There's a trans character in this story and if you have a problem with trans people you can screw off.

Short vocab lesson for those who haven't read a TF fanfic before:

Optics
Eyes.

Digit(s)
Fingers.

Spark
The primary power source of a Cybertronian, similar to the human heart.

Energon
In a solid form it is a crystalline ore that can be found and harvested in various places around Earth. In a liquidated form it's used as a Cybertronian's blood and is essential for their life.

Holoform
A holigraphic form transformers can project to appear in another form, usually human. More specifics of its use is unique to this story and will be explained within it.

Okay, enjoy the story. Don't forget to like and vote and follow and comment or whatever if you want to.
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FLYNN

I'll never be flat enough. Flynn thought to himself as he stared into the grimy mirror, turning to view his profile. He ran his hands down the front of his chest, grimacing with the slight, delicate curve at the front. The two sports bras he wore, one on top of the other, compressed his body to the point that he could barely breathe. It wasn't enough, though. It never would be! Not until the surgery. He swallowed hard. Not until we can...afford the surgery.

"Being flat won't make you more or less of a man than I am." Kayde grunted from underneath his truck. He held a wrench in his hand, poking around at whatever gizmo had broken this time. Flynn wasn't very well-versed in the world of vehicular anatomy, unlike his brother.

Despite Flynn's best efforts, he was still small compared to other men, so early into his transition it was difficult to bulk up muscle. Meanwhile, Kayde could deadlift Flynn any day of the week, easily. "Jesus Flynn," Kayde snapped, "stop lookin' at yourself if all you're gonna see is something you don't like." It's easy for you to say. Flynn thought to himself glumly. Still, he turned away.

"Why do we even have this old thing in the garage anyways?" Flynn muttered, poking the bottom of the reflective glass with a scrappy boot. The garage of their house was barely large enough for their truck, but before their father had died he'd built up shelves on either side of it to stack up piles of junk. And he still managed to find every little thing we needed in this dump right when we asked for it.

Kayde scooted out from under the truck, tossing the wrench aside and sitting up. He wiped his greasy hands onto his jeans, leaving muggy stains that wouldn't ever wash out again. Good thing those were his working clothes. It wasn't like they could afford to ruin any that they had left. "It was Momma's." Kayde nodded to the mirror, "I moved it out here. Got tired of looking at myself every morning."

"So that's why your hair looks like shit every day?" Flynn barely dodged a smack aimed at the back of his head from his older brother, who had decided he was done with the truck. Up the rickety wooden stairs, they trailed back into the house. Kayde slammed his fist on the button that'd close the garage door, it wouldn't work unless you hit it real hard. Flynn could had sworn the wooden boards under his feet dipped slightly before he hopped the last step.