Optimus sat alone on the bed of his dimly lit living quarters. His hand absently rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to find a little relief. He prayed to Primus nothing else crazy would happen— just for a while longer. He was so tired and so ready to give up. But he knew he’d just have to tough it out for a while longer until they got to the Theta System. He couldn’t give up, especially not now. Too many people looked up to him and too many people depended on him.
He needed rest, but insomnia gripped him nightly. Each day seemed to provide a new issue to disturb his sleep with.
As strong and stoic as he was, seeing Elita again had stirred feelings from the past that he had been trying to keep buried by all his other worries. He hadn’t seen her face-to-face since the voyage began. He thought he could handle it, but his spark had other things planned for him. It wanted—no—NEEDED to be merged with its conjnx once again.
Memories of Elita forcefully invaded his mind. He lay down on his bed and started reading a book on a datapad, hoping a few chapters would take his mind off her. But it was no use. His spark ached to reunite with hers. He remembered her touch as her fingers traced against the lines of his armor, and the way her smooth alloy lips felt against his metal skin. He remembered the way her voice sounded, almost as deep as his, yet feminine, and the way it resonated throughout his frame whenever she would whisper sweet nothings to him. The smell of her pheromones, where all her most sensitive hot spots were, the way her back arched when-
Optimus shook his head, trying to cause the increasingly unwanted thoughts to spill out of his audio processors.
Then he remembered the recording.
Elita One was the type of fembot who would have communicated that she wanted that recording deleted from Optimus’s system if she wished him to. But she hadn’t. He certainly would have if she had asked, but she hadn’t.
He projected the holo-recording out across his body, watching as a 3D projection of Elita materialized, straddling his hips.
He quickly shut it off, antennae heating up in embarrassment.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s not mine anymore.” He told himself.
But the memory of Elita’s voice spoke, “Use it to your spark’s desire, my love. I’ll certainly be using my recording.”
The pressure of his spike hardening against its panel only increased his uninvited arousal. His spark pulsing at the thought of his lost beloved caused his physical urges to finally get the better of him. He turned the holo-recording back on.
“Have you started recording yet, my Spark?” Elita’s voice made his spark send a rare, euphoric jolt through his system.
He paused the playback, visually tracing his sparkmate’s armor. She polished more regularly than he did, so her armor was often quite shiny when not covered in dents and scars from battle. Her blue optics gazed down at him with such lust and affection that Optimus felt a sting of grief pierce his throat for a brief moment before forcing himself to swallow it down.
“Just this once… I’ll play it just this once.” He thought before unpausing the recording.
He could hear his own voice in the recording. “Yes, go ahead, darling.”
Elita’s projection slowly moved her hips up and down along Optimus’s spike. He stroked it in tandem with her movements.
“Hmhmm, I hope I’m not going too slow for you, darling. You know I love to savor every inch of you.”
Elita looked down at him and smiled mischievously. In the recording, it caused Optimus to start thrusting his hips into her.
The fembot cried out, “Yes! Yes! You’re such a big mech, aren’t you Oppie?”
Optimus could hear his voice in the recording, grunting and moaning as he grabbed Elita’s waist and rammed his hips into her valve with increased intensity.
Elita bent down and lay across his body, wrapping her arms under his shoulders. “I love you! I love you! Oh my god, baby! Keep giving me that big dick!” She moved her aft up and down, trying to match her partner’s pace. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I love you, Oppie! I love you! I love you!”
Optimus’s optics rolled to the back of his head, so overwhelmed with pleasure and emotion he could barely form a coherent sentence. “E-Elita! Ah! You’re so beautiful!” One of his hands began to travel down to the small of Elita’s back, right above her aft. One of her hot spots was placed there— one of several very senstive zones that every Transformer had— He firmly pressed the hot spot, causing his partner to let out a euphoric scream. He smiled into her neck upon hearing the heavenly sound. “You’re perfect! Everything about you is perfect!” He sunk his denta into her neck, causing only just enough discomfort to turn Elita on.
“Ah! SHIT! You’re doing so good, Oppie! Oh my God!”
She left kisses along his left-side entente— One of Optimus’s hot spots— from the base up. It caused the mech beneath her to shudder. She then placed her lips right up to his audio processor and whispered, “I want your spike inside me all night long.” She whispered. “I’m going to make you cum inside me over and over.”
Optimus’s venting grew heavier as his spark excitedly bounced off the walls of its chamber. He could feel his armor practically drenched in liquid perspiration. “I’ll make love to you however you ask, my spark.”
His conjunx sat back up and looked down at the mech wriggling and moaning beneath her. Optimus’s eyes glowed so brightly with desire that their color nearly appeared white.
Elita reached back and slid her fingers along his upper thigh, making his engine rumble loudly. The feeling of Optimus’s engine purrs reverberating throughout his frame increased the pleasurable sensation against Elita’s valve.
“Oh, you like that! Don’t you, big boy?”
“Y-Yes, ma’am.”
“Hmmm, good.”
She slipped her fingers into the joint between his groin and upper thigh, another one of his hot spots. Optimus’s engine roared. The fembot’s face lit up with a wide grin. She could feel her conjunx thrust into her with greater desperation. She slowly moved her hand to Optimus’s now exposed valve, which had opened the moment she touched his joint. She gently stroked the tip of his sensory node. His eyes flashed white and stopped thrusting to rub against her touch. His hands traveled to her aft and guided her hips up and down on his spike. She grabbed both his arms and roughly pinned them above his head.
Elita laughed playfully. “Hey! No cheating! We’re taking this nice and slow now, Oppie.”
She slid her fingers into Optimus’s valve and started pumping them in and out while simultaneously moving her hips.
“You feel so good, Elita!” Optimus moaned.
“I love the sound of your voice. Keep talking to me, baby.”
Optimus’s deep voice filled the room. “I love the way I feel inside you, Elita. P-Please go faster- AH!”
“Did you say slower?” Elita started to move at an agonizingly slow pace.
“Please don’t stop!”
“Beg.”
“Please! Please, Elita! I need you! I need you so badly!”
“Tell me exactly what you need, Optimus.”
“I need you!”
“You need me to do what?”
“I…. I need you to fuck me!”
Elita bent over and gave Optimus a deep, passionate kiss.
She whispered to him again. “I’m going to fuck you all night long. You’re going to stay in this bed till I’m done with you.”
*”Uhh, Prime! We could REALLY use your help in the brig right now!”* Jazz’s voice on the PA system startled Optimus out of his arousal.
He immediately shut off the holo-recording. Feelings of shame and guilt washed over him as his shoulders tensed in embarrassment. After retracting his spike, he lay still for a moment, pressing his palms against his optics, trying to push down the shame tightening around his spark like a hungry snake. After letting out a long sigh, he made himself get up to see what was going on in the brig.
Optimus scolded himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. He was a Prime. He should be a shining example of discipline, strength, and honor. Primus had chosen him, and the title of Prime held no room for weakness.
He noticed that many more people than usual bustling about and chattering within the hallways. He wasn’t paying attention to what anyone was saying, but he did hear the name “Starscream” come up more than once, and it took everything in the Prime’s power to not let out a juvenile groan.
“Oh no. What did he do NOW?” Optimus thought to himself.
He shook off his lingering emotions. Upon entering the brig, Jazz was there waiting for him with a summary of the situation. “Barricade, Thundercracker, and Skywarp hopped onto the ship yesterday and beat Starscream up so badly he had to be hospitalized.”
Optimus rubbed the bridge of his nose and deeply vented out. “Did you contact the Nemesis yet?”
“Yeah, someone should be coming to transfer T.C. and Skywarp to the Nemesis’s brig, but we still need to question Starscream before we send them out. Allegedly, this was all over some shanix and the two seekers only intended to rough him up, but then Barricade took it too far.”
“Oh, no what did Barricade do?”
“He snuck a knife on board, tortured Starscream with it. He also flayed one of the poor bastard’s wings with his own hands. Probably would have killed him if Skyfire hadn’t intervened.”
“Wait, wait— are you saying Barricade skinned him alive?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Primus! Did Rung already take a look at him?”
“Didn’t get the chance. Barricade threatened to murder him the moment he entered the room.”
Optimus let out another exasperated vent. “I didn’t want to bother Megatron on the day of his appointment about this but, Barricade is part of his crew and he needs to be here to help work this issue out.”
Loud banging on the metal walls came emanating from the room with the holding cells. “WHERE’S THUNDERCRACKER AND SKYWARP?! I’M GONNA RIP OUT THEIR COGS AND FEED THEM TO THEM!”
Optimus’s antennae ticked in irritation.
Jazz replied to Optimus after the interruption, “You might wanna make it quick Prime. That motherfucker is NUTS. I know Barricade was always a crooked cop, but this is a whole new level. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into him!”
“Is he on some sort of substance?”
“Blood-energon test came back negative. My best guess is that being stuck on the Nemesis for 6 cycles might have just driven him bonkers. But then again, I’m no therapist.”
Barricade’s banging and shouting started up again. Strongarm’s voice could be heard yelling at him, “Knock it off!” which only made him act up even more.
Optimus entered the holding cell room.
He walked up to the defiant Decepticon’s cell before his voice boomed, “That’s quite enough!”
Barricade backed away and looked up at the taller mech as his door wings flattened against his back in fear. “Aha! Ah… aha…” he laughed awkwardly. “I was reminiscing about my younger years in law enforcement with your cadet here.” He gestured to Strongarm, who did not look at all amused.
Optimus cut right to the chase. “Are you aware of how much time a crime like torture would get you back on Cybertron? And don’t think law enforcement gets off easy under my rules!”
Barricade fiend innocence. “I understand sir. But you have to remember, Skywarp asked me to do it!”
“I told you we were gonna just scare him and pull a few pranks, not rip him apart like sparkeaters!” Skywarp’s voice called out from down the other side of the holding cell hall.
“AH! THERE YOU ARE!” Barricade taunted the seeker.
“You idiot!” Thundercracker shouted at his sister. “Now he knows we’re here!”
“Don’t worry, he can’t get you!” Strongarm shouted back, annoyed.
“Barricade!” Optimus got back the Decepticon’s attention. “I don’t care WHO asked you to do it, you still did it!”
“Yeah, but…” Barricade scratched the back of his helmet. “It was Starscream.” He shrugged.
“Y’know, he’s got a point.” Strongarm quipped.
Optimus gave her a look.
Strongarm cleared her throat and stood up straight. “Apologies, sir.”
The Prime turned his attention back to Barricade and leered at him. “Now, here’s what will happen. While you sit here and think about what you’ve done, I’m going to get Megatron to come help deal with you. Then you’ll be answering to both of us.”
Barricade’s seemed to shrink down as he muttered a “Yes sir.” as he watched the Prime take his leave.
Jazz intended to follow, but Barricade saw an opportunity.
“Hey, Jazz! Haven’t seen Prowl in a while. How’s he been?”
Jazz stopped in his tracks. His doorwings tensed as he clenched one of his fists.
“Hey! Don’t make me put a gag on you!” Strongarm warned Barricade with gritted denta. She softened her tone for Jazz, “Just ignore him, man. He’s so full of shit.”
Jazz pressed the painful memories back into the dark corners of his mind. But he only made it a few more steps before another taunt was thrown his way.
“Sure hope he’s not having a BLAST without me.”
“Last warning, Con’!” Strongarm said.
Barricade kept pushing it. “By the way, do you remember when that star is going to pop? Ah! Now I remember! Only one more month! Sure, hope no one you know stayed on Cybertron.”
Barricade grimaced once Jazz punched the force shield that was separating them, causing it to reverberate loudly. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Woah! Easy, Jazz!” Strongarm said, alarmed at the uncharacteristic outburst.
Jazz stormed out, not saying another word. Prowl’s words kept repeating in his head over and over.
“You’re going to be a coward and run?! You’d rather go on a suicide mission that lasts 16 cycles than try?”
Jazz remembered trying to convince him. How the tears fogged up his visor too much to see Prowl’s face. “Prowler, please don’t do this! Just come with me! Even if we don’t make it, it’s a better chance than we’ve got here! Please, baby, I love you goddamn it, why won’t you just listen to me?!”
He should have tried harder.
Once Jazz caught up to Optimus, it didn’t take long for the Prime to notice his friend’s door wings tightly flattened back in anger.
“You alright there, buddy?”
“I’m fine.” Jazz replied, coldly.
“Don’t pretend I haven’t known you for most of our lives. You’re not alright.”
Jazz stopped walking. Optimus paused as well.
“Jazz?”
“There’s only one month left, Prime.”
Optimus stood silent. His spark dropped to the bottom of his frame, yet he still said nothing. He didn’t want to think about it. He had been avoiding thinking about so much in fact, that he had lost track of how close it now was. But alas, he was a Prime, and he had to be strong for his fellow Autobots. “I know.” He said in a calm, quiet voice. “I know.”
Jazz also stood silent for a moment before asking, “Prime, do you think-“ He paused again. “Do you think everyone else could’ve gotten out of there in time?”
Optimus let out a vent. “I hope so, old friend.”
Optimus rubbed the back of one of Jazz’s wings. He didn’t expect his friend to return the affection by pulling him into a tight embrace.
“We stick together, no matter what, okay?”
Optimus hugged him back, resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder. “Always.”
The two quickly snapped back to their previous composures and continued on.
The therapist’s office— which doubled as his quarters —Was right around the corner from the medbay. Jazz suggested they visit Ironhide for a little while they waited for Megatron. Optimus didn’t see why he couldn’t. When they entered Ironhide’s room, they noticed that—aside from Chromia —there was a red fembot standing by Starscream’s bed. She was a jet, like him, but not a seeker.
“Wait till’ those three jerks get a piece of my mind!”
“You wanna kill them?” Starscream asked with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Tempting, but I think you’re forgetting something.”
“And what might that be?” Starscream smiled and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m Autobot Scum, remember?” The red fembot said with a smirk. “Murder is sort of against the rules in our faction.”
“Heheheh— I suppose not all you Autobots are entirely devoid of intelligence.”
“Is that so?”
Chromia gave Jazz a sidelong glance. “I will never understand how such a sweet femme could be all buddy-buddy with that maniac!”
Starscream suddenly yelped like a spooked cybercat.
“What happened?!” Windblade asked with concern.
“I’m f- I’m fine,” Starscream grunted quietly. “I just moved my arm the wrong way.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t speak too much. That animal, Barricade— He’s getting a kick to the face the moment I get the chance!”
Starscream laid his head down on his pillow and let out a small whimper. He felt a hand gently wrap around his. The unexpected touch made him jump, which caused him to hiss in pain.
“I’m so sorry!”
“That was you that touched me?!”
“Y-Yes? I’m the only one here, Star.”
“Oh, yes— I suppose that makes sense.”
Windblade scratched the side of her face and cleared her throat. “I should probably go back to Chromia and Ironhide now. You need to rest.
“Y-Yea… You go do that, darling.”
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Chromia turned to Jazz, mocking a gag and mouthing the words “kill me” showing her disgust at overhearing Starscream address her friend in such a saccharine way.
Windblade took one last glance at Starscream before going back to Ironhide and Chromia.
“Careful with that one.” Optimus reminded her calmly.
“I’ll be alright, boss,” Windblade reassured. “Even Scream has his soft spots.”
“He’s only acting soft towards you because he wants to get under your panel!” Chromia warned.
“Our relationship isn’t anything like that, Chromia!” Windblade defended.
“Windblade, hun, he’s not looking to make friends. Trust me.”
Chromia turned her head to Optimus, silently asking for him to convince her friend to ditch the bird.
Optimus spoke. “Although we should be cautious of Starscream, he’s been relatively well-behaved on the ship. All of us need companionship, Chromia. And Starscream has been alone for a very long time. I do not believe that it is our place to intervene with any relationships he forms aboard the Ark unless it’s absolutely needed.”
Chromia let out a huff while Windblade looked at her with a smirk.
“I’ll be honest—” Jazz pitched in. “I always thought Scream only went for mechs.”
“He’s always been sweet on femme jets,” Chromia said, resting her elbow on Ironhide’s bed. “You remember that thing he had with Slipstream?”
“Oh, yeah. But that was like, so long ago I barely remember.”
“You are all aware that I can hear you, right?” Starscream called out from the other side of the room.
Windblade playfully waved one of her wings at him, which made an involuntarily soft smile appear on his face before he noticed and quickly did away with it. Seeing this caused Windblade to let out a little giggle.
Chromia rested her chin on the bed next to Iornhide’s face. “Please wake up tonight and kill him while no one is looking.”
“Cromia,” Optimus said sternly.
“Just playing, hon, just playing.” She responded while gently stroking Iornhide’s crest.
“Has he improved at all since I was last here?” Optimus asked, looking at his old companion.
Chromia’s optics dimmed. “His color has returned.”
“That’s something at least.” Jazz said.
“Yea… suppose it is…” Chromia placed a hand over Iornhide’s spark and gently rubbed his chest. She glanced at the covered injury on the left half of his face and winced. Though it was less disturbing to look at than before, the wound’s disfigurement was still visible under the patch. It was so large that half of Iornhide’s head looked reminiscent of a deflated ball. Chromia let out another sigh. “Doc told me he was gon’ fix up the big guy’s helm as much as he can once he’s healed up some more. But… he’ll most likely be blind on that side for the rest of his life.”
Not knowing what to say, Windblade placed a gentle hand on her grieving friend’s shoulder. Chromia gave a barely visible smile and returned the affection by placing her hand over Winblade’s.
“I really wish I had gotten to know him better…” Windblade said.
“You will. We have to keep hope, Windblade.” Optimus reassured.
“Uuuuuugh….” Starscream moaned from across the room.
Chromia huffed. “I really hope the big guy can’t hear all the racket that cons’ been riling up.”
“Oh, Chromia come on. He’s in a lot of pain.”
“Why should I care about HIM?! Why should any of us?! He’s an animal just like the rest of those damn cons!” Chromia stood up out of her seat.
Jazz tried to diffuse the situation. “Hey, now let’s all take it easy!”
“No!” Chromia snapped “Have all of you forgotten who he is?! He was the Megatron’s second in command! He’s a murderer! If I had even an atom of less self-control, by Primus I would have killed that bastard myself yesterday!”
“Chromia! Don’t say things like that!” Windblade accosted her friend.
“Why?! Stupid girl, he’s taking advantage of you!”
“Enough!” Optimus’s voice was imposing enough to halt the argument.
The room was filled with silent tension. Jazz caught Starscream staring, but the seeker darted his optics away once he noticed the Autobot looking at him.
The awkward silence was broken by the sound of the door sliding open and Knockout’s jovial tone. “Hello, Starscream! Here I am to save the day yet again!” He approached Starscream’s bedside. “I managed to get another dose of-“ he side-glanced at Optimus for a moment. “The exact amount of painkiller I am supposed to give you and definitely not any more than that.” He then proceeded to inject his patient with the syringe he brought.
The seeker let out a sigh of relief and sank into his pillow. “I think I gotta keep my optic on that blue one.” He lazily muttered to Knockout. “She might kill me in my sleep.”
“Oh, don’t be foolish! I’m certain Chromia is far too concerned with Ironhide to have time to murder you.”
When Knockout left, Chromia sat back down, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry, Windblade. I don’t know what came over me.”
Windblade rubbed the back of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot recently. I forgive you.”
With the tension dialed down, Windblade left to go get Chromia some energeon from the vending machine outside the medbay. Jazz stayed with Chromia and Ironhide while Optimus approached Knockout and Starscream.
Starscream’s face twisted in disgust, but his optics gave away a glint of fear. “What does HE want?” He asked Knockout.
Knockout turned around to see Optimus standing behind him. “Ah! Hello, Optimus Prime! As you can see, I gave my patient only the rationed amount and nothing more!”
“Don’t mistake me for a fool, Doctor. I’ve known Starscream long enough to know a dose that low wouldn’t get him this high.”
“I’m not high, youuuuuu are!” Starscream childishly accused, pointing a talon at the Autobot leader.
Optimus raised an eyebrow at the seeker, who seemed to respond by slightly pulling up his covers.
Knockout began stumbling through his words. “Well, sir, I- er, you see- My patient wasn’t able to recharge due to the pain and-“
Optimus raised a hand to the medic. “You aren’t in trouble. His condition warrants a higher dose, anyway. But don’t go behind my back again. Understood, Doctor?”
“Really? Uh- I mean yes, sir!”
Optimus looked at Starscream again, who squinted at him suspiciously.
“How are you feeling? Jazz explained to me what happened to you the other day.”
Starscream just stared at him for a few seconds. Narrowing his optics, he said, “Why are you being nice to me?”
“We may not exactly be friends, Starscream, but you are still a part of my crew.”
“I’m not exactly an Autobot, you know.”
Optimus smiled. “Give it time.”
Starscream let out a sarcastic, “Hah!”
The door could be heard sliding open again with Windblade walking in after with her arms full of snacks. “Sorry, Jazz, they were out of sour cubes, so I got you some rust sticks instead.”
“That’s fine!” Jazz said, taking the bag of rust sticks and beaming with a smile. “Free food is free food!”
Windblade set the rest down in a tray on a table that was temporarily set up for Chromia. “Oh, and I ran into Elita. She should be here any moment.”
Optimus’s antennae twitched. “Well, I should get going.” He quickly called out, “Jazz, let’s get going!”
“No problem Bossbot!” Jazz replied with a mouth full of rust sticks.
Optimus passed by Elita soon after he exited the room. Neither said a word to the other, but Optimus could feel his spark produce a quick jolt.
Optimus couldn’t help but wonder; “Did you feel it too?”
Jazz may not have been part of their merge, but the awkwardness in the air in that brief moment was thick enough to cause Jazz to internally cringe. Once outside of the medbay, the Autobot sped up his pace a little to catch up to Optimus, a bag of rust sticks still crinkling in his hand. “Remember, man. I’m always here for you.”
Optimus only responded by giving Jazz a pat on the shoulder.
Outside the therapist’s office, Bumblebee was outside waiting for his appointment.
“Hello, son.” Optimus greeted.
“Heya Bee!” Jazz greeted as well.
Bumblebee smiled and waved at them with a doorwing. He walked up to his father and hugged him, then did the same for Jazz.
“Love you too, buddy.” Jazz said to the small Autobot, with a friendly smile.
Bee reached up and gently grabbed Optimus’s hand, signifying he had something to say. Optimus placed his palm up against his son’s.
“You’re here just in time! I was beginning to worry you forgot.”
Optimus’s optics widened and Jazz awkwardly rubbed the back of his helmet.
“Yes! Our appointment! Yes, that is why I’m here.”
Bee’s smile turned to a frown as he crossed his arms and gave the Prime a look.
Optimus let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, I forgot. I’m here to talk to Megatron. I’m sorry, Bumblebee.”
Bumblebee rolled his optics.
“Hey, don’t you- Ugh, fine. I may have deserved that.” Optimus patted Bee on the head.
“If Dr. Rung can give me a few minutes to speak with Megatron, I’ll join you. But there is something rather important I must discuss with Megatron first.”
Jazz chipped in, “It’ll be alright, buddy. He won’t forget again.” He jabbed Optimus in the side with his elbow, “Isn’t that RIGHT, Optimus?”
“Yes. I mean no— I will not forget again, Bumblebee.”
Bumblebee sighed a little and then nodded. Optimus pat him on the head again, prompting Bumblebee to smile and playfully bat his father away.
Moments later, Rung’s door slid open, and out walked the intimidating hulk of a mech, that being Megatron. Who was thus followed by a scrawny little orange mech wearing big, round glasses.
“You go on in, Bumblebee. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Guess I’ll have to go back to the brig with Megatron in your place.” Jazz said, not sounding very enthusiastic.
“You need not worry Jazz. Megatron has kept his vow against violence thus far. He shouldn’t give you any trouble.”
Jazz crossed his arms and tilted his head. “You sure we’re talking about the same bot?”
“You could always call me if there’s any trouble.”
“Ugh. Alright, man. Whatever you say. But if he kills someone, you owe me!” Jazz jested.
“Prime?” Megatron spoke. “Wasn’t expecting you here.”
“He’s here with my next client.” Rung explained.
Megatron looked down at Bumblebee, who squinted back at him, standing up tall with his chest out. “Heh. Careful not to bite off more than you can chew, kid,” he said to the much smaller bot.
“Please don’t.” Said Optimus.
Megatron chortled, slapping Optimus’s back a little too hard. “I’m just teasing him. Lighten up, you sad old fuck!”
Optimus regained his posture after Megatron caused him to momentarily stumble a step forward. He grumbled, “I need to talk to you briefly before I go in.”
“Do try to make it brief, sir. If you can, that is.” Rung requested.
Optimus gave the doctor a thumbs-up before walking to the end of the hallway with Megatron and Jazz. Optimus felt a pang of guilt watching Bumblebee step into the therapist’s office alone.
“What is it? Need more Starscream wrangling tips?” Megatron asked.
“Not quite,” said Optimus. “Barricade is currently being held in the brig for torturing Starscream.”
“Primus, I knew Cade would eventually snap.”
“You knew this would happen?!”
“The Nemesis doesn’t exactly have as many mental health professionals on board this ship, Prime. You think I risk bumping into Starscream once a week because I prefer it to staying in the comfort of my own ship?”
“I thought you did it because you liked seeing me.” Optimus bantered, allowing a glint of his past, less disciplined self the rare opportunity to poke through his hard exterior.
Megatron smirked at the remark before adding more context. “I won’t lie to you Prime, the few cons and neutrals that have remained loyal enough to follow me on the voyage are becoming, how should I say— Stir crazy? Most of them have gotten so sick of each other that they fucked off to the Minnow and Omega Supreme, caused too much of a shitshow for even the JUNKIONS, who then made most of them fuck off back over to my ship. Fights keep breaking out, I’ve already had two neutral jets jump ship and attempt to fly back. Oh, and of course half of the fuckin’ crew wants people in your’s and Omega Supreme’s crew dead, and are banned from the Ark. So I’m stuck with a bunch of ASSHOLES all goddamn day-“
“Wait! Two people tried to GO BACK?! Why didn’t you contact the other ships!” Jazz asked.
Megatron rubbed his temples “Because it happened a month ago and I didn’t find out till this morning!”
Jazz threw his arms up in the air and walked away a short distance. Optimus shook his head.
“Look, I don’t exactly have the same lovey-dovey one-big-happy-family relationship with my crew that you do. Most of MY family chose to stay behind and die. I barely know half of my crew’s names!”
“It’s been 6 cycles, my guy,” Jazz said.
Megatron shut his optics. “10… 9… 8…”
“Um, what are you doing?” Jazz asked. He turned to Optimus and whispered the same question. “What is he doing?”
“5… 4–I’m counting backward from 10 so that I don’t rip you in half— 3…”
“Megatron!”
Megatron took in a deep vent, before slowly letting it back out. “I apologize. It’s been a stressful week.”
“I understand, but please try not to threaten my crew.”
Jazz closed his optics and grumbled. “I can tell already this is gonna be REAL fun.”
“Megatron promises he is not going to rip you in half.”
“Hey, I never said- I mean of course not! I’m an ally now!” Megatron forced a grimace and held out a thumbs up.
“GOD.” Jazz pointed a finger at Optimus. “You better pick up if I call you!”
“Quit being so paranoid, Jazz. I’m not going to hurt you.” Megatron said, flicking off a tiny patch of rust from his chassis.
Optimus tried to hurry up the conversation. “We need to figure out what to do with Barricade. When I first set off on this journey, I admit I didn’t expect crimes of this nature to still be going on. I was a fool to think that.”
“I’ll take care of the bastard. He is part of my crew, after all. Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him.”
Optimus narrowed his optics at Megatron. “I certainly hope you don’t let him off easy because of who his victim was.”
“Even if I wanted to, Barricade might still pose a risk to his crewmates.”
Jazz brought up, “He was threatening Skywarp and Thundercraker. Could have been bullshitting, but you might not wanna take a chance.”
Megatron let out an annoyed sigh. “Oh, yeah. Those two idiots.”
Jazz explained, “Allegedly, they didn’t intend for the violence to go as far as it did. Starscream still needs to be questioned, but those two don’t seem quite as nuts as Cade.”
“I’ll just drag all three of them back to the Nemesis when I leave, then take care of the rest from there. You can message me Starscream’s testimonial later. Though, I will warn you, that lying little shit is most likely going to exaggerate things a lot.”
“Who? Starscream? But he seems so pleasant!” Optimus allowed himself another moment of immaturity, causing both other mechs to snicker. “Now, I should really be getting to my son and I’s appointment.”
Jazz looked back at Optimus one more time before leaving, a tinge of anxiety in his expression. Megatron flicked Optimus in the back of the antennae before he walked away, pretending he did nothing. Optimus’s antennae flattened back as his engine revved in irritation. He could hear a mischievous laugh down the hallway as Megatron and Jazz turned a corner, out of sight.
Optimus quickly shook off his annoyance and headed back to Rung’s office. He knocked on the door, which slid open shortly after. Rung had a larger room to accommodate for his workspace. He had a sectioned-off area for appointments with clients. Rung was sitting in an armchair across from Bumblebee, who was sitting comfortably on a couch with his legs curled up.
“Don’t put your peds on people’s furniture, Bee.” Optimus gently reprimanded.
Bumblebee childishly stuck his tongue out at him.
“It’s quite alright,” Rung told Optimus. “I want my clients to feel at home here.”
“Very well then,” Optimus said before taking a seat next to Bumblebee. “Did I miss anything important?”
“Nothing, really. Bumblebee didn’t want to start without you, but he did let me visually examine his injury in the meantime.”
“You examined him?”
“I was a medic for a few vorns before I got into therapy. No need to worry, I still have my license.”
Taking another look at Bumblebee, Optimus did notice that the protective alloy bandaging around his neck had been removed. The injury, although healed, still left a gaping hole at the center of Bee’s throat. Small shreds of the fragile silicone that was supposed to be lining his voice box slightly moved whenever he vented through the hole. Optimus quickly averted his optics, hoping that his son didn’t realize how much seeing his mutilated neck churned his fuel processor. “Ratchet is hoping he can repair it once we’ve harvested the proper resources in the Theta system.”
“I see.” Rung wrote something down in his notepad.
Bumblebee’s horns pricked up as he extended his body to try and see what the doctor was writing as he fastened his bandage back on. Optimus placed a palm atop his head and pushed him back down before Rung noticed.
“Now, correct me if I’ve misremembered, Bumblebee— In the message you sent me last week, you mentioned that you haven’t told anyone how the injury happened or what happened to Cliffjumper.”
Bumblebee’s horns gradually curled down as Optimus explained to Rung, “He’s been finding it extremely difficult to talk about. He’s tried to tell me before, but we could never get very far.”
Rung looked at his client. “Bumblebee, are you alright if your father shares what you’ve been able to get through so far?”
Bumblebee waited for a moment before cautiously nodding his head.
“We’ll stop the moment it becomes too much for you.”
Bumblebee nodded again with slightly more confidence.
“Very well. Now, before we start, what was the relationship between Bumblebee and Cliffjumper.”
“They were twins,” Optimus answered
“Twins?” Rung adjusted his glasses. “I thought Hot Rod was his only sibling?”
“Not quite. Bumblebee was a rare late spark. He emerged long after Cliffjumper, and was already in mid-adolescence when they finally met.”
“Very interesting! I’ve heard of
late sparks, but last time I met one I must have been around Bee’s age.” Rung jotted down another note.
Optimus’s antennae drooped back. “We tried to find him time to board the fleet, but… We never found him.”
Bumblebee tucked his legs into his chest and gazed at the floor in front of him.
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” Rung said, his blue optics softening behind his round lenses.
Optimus recounted the story to Rung, while his son sat in the corner of the couch, just staring at the floor with no hint of emotion in his face.
It was before the war had ended. Tensions were at an all-time high and resources were running out on both sides. The war had become less about which side would take over, and more about which side would survive. Iacon City, at the time, was rumored to have a cache of energon cubes underneath the ruins of its capital. It was supposedly placed there as an emergency supply for Sentinel Prime and his closest followers, in the case of a natural disaster. Even before the war, many considered the cache to be a myth. But people were now far too desperate to ignore any opportunity to feed their families.
Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were sent out on a scouting mission. They knew it wouldn’t be safe, with the cache likely being searched for by the Decepticons as well. Both bots were covered in blotches of paint that were intended to help them blend in with the polluted skies and battle-scarred landscape. They were able to sneak through the rubble without much issue. Cliffjumper at some point had been startled by a Decepticon-aligned minicon. But they were badly maimed and on the brink of death. Their body up to their chest was mangled beyond recognition, and they were pulling aimlessly themselves through the dirt with their one remaining arm. Their helmet had a massive dent in the back, and blood energy was leaking through the nostrils and corners of their mouth. The minicon’s incoherent slurred mumbling and disoriented wobbling made the resulting brain damage very apparent. Cliffjumper gave Bumblebee time to get a head start in front of him so that his younger brother didn’t have to be there when he put the minicon out of their misery. The silencer on Cliffjumper’s gun also spared Bumblebee from hearing the act of mercy. It wasn’t Bee’s first experience with death, and he had even killed before. But he never looked. He refused to. He shut his optics tight or turned his head whenever he had a clear shot, which was something Cliffjumper kept getting on him about. It was a bad habit and not a safe way to handle a firearm, but he just couldn’t bring himself to look.
Bumblebee stopped at a small hidden Autobot outpost at the base of Iacon’s capital and waited for Cliffjumper. Though communication with HQ in this area was very limited,
And that was it. That was all Bumblebee had shared with Optimus thus far.
“It’s as if the moment he gets to that part, he physically can’t continue. His hands begin to treble too much and-“ Optimus noticed Bumblebee’s body shivering against his, producing a quiet rattle between his armor plating. He placed a hand on the back of Bumblebee’s helmet and attempted to comfort him by rubbing his crest with his thumb. “You’re okay, son. I’m right here.”
“Seeing that minion must have been quite traumatizing in itself. You should be proud of yourself for how far you were able to make it, Bumblebee.” Said Rung.
Bumblebee kept staring at the floor.
“Bumblebee, do you think you can continue?” Optimus asked.
Bee closed his optics and vented out.
“We don’t need to keep going during this appointment.” Reassured Rung. “We could always continue next time if you’d like.”
Bumblebee slowly nodded.
“Alright. We can change the subject for now.”
A vent of relief could be heard coming from Bee’s frame.
“Has anything else been troubling you?”
Bee looked up at Rung with his dimly lit optics. He then looked to Optimus.
“I presume you are already aware of the situation with Ironhide,” Optimus said.
“Yes, I am. I’m very sorry.”
Bumblebee finally loosened up and took Rung’s hands into his own. “It’s still hard to process that it actually happened. I didn’t even know… I had no idea he was in so much pain…” The look of sadness and confusion in his optics was palpable.
Rung gently squeezed Bee’s hands. “We never really know what people are thinking or feeling on the inside. What happened was not anyone’s fault.”
Watching their hands, Optimus’s antennae drooped down but then sprang back up once he realized.
Rung took notice of this. “Optimus, there’s no need to hide. Your emotions are just as valid as his. While we’re here, no one needs to worry about judgment.”
Optimus’s antennae twitched again as he could feel them heat up, along with his face. Bumblebee scooted in closer to him, easing his embarrassment.
Bumblebee continued. “Roddy blamed himself when I told him. I really wish he wouldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. That kind of guilt…. killing your own family. It’s not something he deserves to suffer through.”
“Survivor’s guilt. It’s quite common. I think it may benefit him if he schedules an appointment with me, but that’s up to him.”
“I’ll mention the offer to him. Thank you.”
“What about you, though? Any negative feelings you want to talk about?”
Bumblebee looked down for several seconds.
“Bee? Are you okay?” Optimus asked.
“It was my fault.”
Optimus put his arm around Bumblebee. “Don’t say that.”
“It was.”
“It was nobody’s fault, Bee.” Rung tried to remind.
Bumblebee’s optics got a bit brighter, pupils fully constricted. “No! You don’t understand. I” His frame trembled as he tightly clung onto his horns. He attempted to speak, “N̷̗̈́O̵̭͘!̸̢̓”
Optimus wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on his head. “Bee… Nothing you could have possibly done could have caused Ironhide to do this. He loved you just as much as the rest of us do.”
Bumblebee’s frame loosened, but his optics still glowed bright with emotion. He slowly reached out his hands and placed them up against Rung’s again. “Ironhide…. Yea. I guess… I guess you have a point…. I
Optimus could feel his spark gradually sink to the bottom of its chamber. His antennae lowered as he lifted his chin off his son’s helmet. “Bee…”
Bumblebee said nothing, pulled his hands away from Rung, and went back to staring at the floor.
“Bee…” Optimus squeezed his shoulder. “Is Cliffjumper dead?”
Bumblebee’s optics flashed white, but he continued to say nothing.
Optimus pulled him closer, tightly. “Dammit. Okay, okay, we’ll sort this out. It’s not your fault, Bee. But you have to tell us what happened!”
Rung intervened. “Optimus! He’s not in the right state of mind for this right now.”
Optimus loosened his grip. “I’m sorry…”
Bumblebee was still shaking.
“Bee, look at me.” Rung said.
The trembling little Autobot moved his optics to meet the Doctor’s.
Rung took both Bumblebee and Optimus’s hands. “Let’s just take it easy, okay? All three of us. We have quite a bit longer to go on this ride, after all. There is no rush. Bee needs to be able to take his time.”
“I understand,” Optimus said, nodding.
Rung let go of Optimus and took Bumblebee’s other hand. “Bee, I know you’re in a dark place right now. But I’m here for you. We both are.”
Tears rolled down Bumblebee’s cheeks as he tried to take in a deep vent.
“Try to focus on what’s around you right now. Think about what you feel, smell, see— It will help ground you.”
Optimus’s comm beeped. He shut his optics. “Come on, not now!” He thought.
“Optimus, you should answer that.”
“I can’t leave my kid here like this.” Was what Optimus wanted to say. But he knew what he promised Jazz, and he was now worried that Megatron may have done something. “I know. I’m sorry, Bumblebee.”
Bumblebee tapped his forehead up to the side of Optimus’s chin, letting his father know it was all alright.
The comm beeped again. Optimus stood up and gently petted Bee on the head. “I’ll see you later, alright?”
Looking down, Bee nodded.
Optimus left the office to answer his call outside. The moment he answered, one of the medics, First Aid,
“FINALLY! Holy crap, Optimus, you need to get back in the medbay right now!”
Not even responding, he hung up and ran to the medbay, worst-case scenario playing out through his mind. After getting through the medbay doors, he raced to Iornhide’s room and skidded to a stop just before it. When he entered, he saw Ironhide still in the same place as before, with nothing having changed. But before Optimus could sigh in relief, the sight of Elita One rolling around on the floor with Starscream, squeezing his neck like a stress toy. Chromia was staring while shielding Iornhide’s head with her body, the emotion on her face unclear. Windblade, First Aid, and Ratchet were all struggling to pull Elita off of him, but her strength rivaled Optimus Prime’s. Starscream was in no state to defend himself like he normally would.
“Elita! Stop!” Optimus shouted. Everyone moved out of the way when he ran over to the fighting bots. He used his size to his advantage by putting Elita in a headlock and prying her hands off the Seeker’s throat. When she lost her grip, Starscream dropped to the floor. He tried to get up and run but ended up collapsing onto the floor instead. Windblade rushed over and clung to him, turning the backs of her wings towards Elita as a shield.
Elita grabbed Optimus’s arm and flipped him over. She leaped over Windblade and yanked Starscream away from her by his injured wing. He was too exhausted to scream.
“ELITA! STOP IT!” Windblade cried. “He can’t fight back!”
“Stay out of this, Windblade. I’m doing us all a favor.” Elita responded coldly.
Elita may have never been quite as forgiving as Optimus, but this level of violence was not like her at all.
Ratchet and First Aid helped Optimus back up to his feet. He tried to speak to Elita calmly. “Elita… He’s already in a great deal of pain. Let him go.”
The large fembot’s eyes flashed bright blue. “WHY?! Why do you care about him?!”
Windblade attempted to reason with her. “He’s not a Decepticon anymore!”
Elita shot an intense glare at the much younger fembot. “He will ALWAYS be a murderer!”
Ratchet held out his hands, trying to get her to calm down. “Elita, I don’t care for him either, but you aren’t thinking straight!”
Perspiration was starting to appear on Optimus's brow from his spark jolting with anxiety.
The metal door screeched as Strongarm opened it by force.
“Took you long enough!” Ratchet scolded the officers.
Strongarm, Chase, and Jazz poured in with Knockout following behind.
“Oh, no— Not you!” Said Jazz. “Come on, Elita, don’t do this! I don’t want to arrest you!”
Elita looked Jazz dead in the optics and started bending Starscream’s wing. Optimus ran over and tackled her, causing her to drop Starscream. She managed to grab him again while Optimus was still holding on.
Nothing could have prepared Optimus for the sound of Elita screaming in pain as his energon axe sliced completely through her arm. He immediately retracted the weapon and stumbled back, horrified. He couldn’t even speak. His venting became heavily labored and his armor was becoming drenched in cold perspiration. Elita had fallen forward, grabbing the stump. The medics all rushed to her and Starscream’s aid while Optimus stood frozen, optics fixated on the severed pink limb lying on the floor. The sound of her screams felt like knives being slid through his audio processors. He never wanted this. He never even imagined, not once in his long life, that he would ever harm her. His spark was beating so fast that it hurt. The air around him grew thick and difficult to ventilate through his system. People were trying to speak to him, but he couldn’t hear anything but her screams.
He never let others see him weep.
Shaking, he got up and left, not nearing anyone calling out to him. Once out of the room, he transformed and sped out of the medbay, damaging the doors on his way out. He took no notice of anyone in the way, causing several bots to dodge for safety. He ended up at the entrance to the airlock and transformed. He stepped inside, flipped on his battle mask for ventilation, and waited for the room to depressurize. Once his peds lifted off the ground and his body became weightless, the outside hatch opened and he crawled through. Even in his current emotional state, the sight of the eternal void, painted with billions of stars, momentarily overwhelmed his spark with its sheer beauty.
Optimus climbed to the top of The Ark. He was supposed to be using a safety line, but it was mainly a precaution. His body was moving at the same speed as the ship, so the momentum didn’t throw him off of the ship.
He walked over to the front and stopped just before the giant Autobot insignia engraved above the cockpit. He stood there and gazed out into the vast expanse of the universe. It was totally silent. Not a single noise— not even the fleet’s blasting engines was audible. It was the only place he could get away from the sound of that scream.
The tears greatly blurred his vision, the zero-G causing them to pool over his optics instead of flow down. Only he could hear his own wails of agony reverberate against his battlemask. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was. The war itself should never have happened. It wasn’t supposed to happen.” Optimus’s inner monologue ruminated. He wiped as much of the glob of tears away from his optics as he could. “Goddamn it! Why did I do that?! What is wrong with me? I could have pulled her off safely if I had just tried harder!” He fell to his knees as tears started to blur his vision again. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! I’ll never hurt you again!”
He struggled to vent through his mask. He curled over, hands wrapping over the back of his head. It felt like his spark was about to explode. He considered using the comm to call a medic, but he chose not to. I wanted to pound his fists on the ship as hard as he could. Hard enough to really dent it, but he didn’t want to hurt Ark. The colossal transformer likely wouldn’t have even felt it, but doing so would still be harming his crew— again. Instead, he verbally expressed himself with nearly every expletive he had accumulated within his vocabulary throughout the past several thousand years, all while gasping to vent.
He almost made a fatal mistake and jumped when he felt a hand placed upon his back. He looked to his right— It was Megatron, sitting down beside him, wearing his seldom-seen battle mask. He brought his fingers up to his comm, indicating that he wanted to talk to him.
Optimus felt too pathetic to do anything.
Megatron rolled his optics and pressed Optimus’s comm for him. “Thought you’d be up here.” He looked into the Prime’s sorrowful optics. “Heard what happened. You know how quickly news spreads around the fleet.” He said calmly.
Optimus still didn’t respond.
“She’ll be okay, Orion. It was probably some sort of PTSD-induced episode. I’m sure she’ll just spend a few days in the psychiatric unit after her arm is wielded back on.”
Optimus remained silent, looking upwards at the glittering stars for several moments.
Megatron joined him. “Beautiful out here, isn’t it? Could stare at it for hours.
“I’m still in love with her,” Optimus stated, now using the comm on his own.
“I know, buddy. I know.” Megatron draped his arm over Optimus’s shoulder and pulled him close. “It's hard as fuck for all of us right now. But you can’t quit out on me now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
Optimus's yearning for closeness overpowered his guilt and shame. He rested his head against Megatron’s shoulder.
“You feel nice…” Megatron said softly into his comm. “Been way too long since I’ve had physical contact with someone, that didn’t involve self-defense or breaking up a fight.”
“Dee… have you ever considered re-“
“No. Don’t even consider it.” Megatron’s tone was stern, but not cruel. “Just let me have these few small moments with you. That’s all I ask.” He scooted his aft in closer to Optimus. “Back when we were working the mines, you used to talk about how much you wanted to see the stars. You wanted to be a space voyager, establishing space bridge locations and expanding our knowledge of the universe… Then I called you a bolt-brain.” He placed his other hand over Optimus’s spark, feeling its steadying. “You did it, you know. Took your damn time, but you did it.”
Optimus placed his hand over Megatron’s. “I need to apologize to her, but I don’t know how…”
“Let’s forget about that for now, Orion. Just for a little while, okay? You’ve been going through a lot of bad shit.”
“No- No! I can never forgive myself for this!”
“The Bird almost died because he pissed her off. You did what you had to do to save him. Now let’s get your ass back inside. You’re freezing out here.” Not allowing him to protest, Megatron pulled Optimus up to his feet and made him hang on to his safety line until they got to the ladder that led down to the hatch. He didn’t let anyone come near Optimus as he led him to his quarters. He knew the Prime needed space.
Megatron sat Optimus down on his bed and retrieved a cube of liquid energon from his storage space. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”
Optimus reluctantly took the cube. He took a sip, it was carbonated and incredibly sweet tasting. A barely visible smirk appeared on Optimus’s face. “I see you still have quite a weakness for sweets. Even after all this time.”
Megatron gave an exaggerated shrug. “I guess some things really do never change.”
“I noticed it’s not spiked.”
“Had to trade out one addiction for another. Sweets may not be the healthiest, but it’s better than all the shit I was on.”
“I’m proud of you, Dee. That’s a big step for anyone to take.”
Megatron gave an awkward smile. “Eh… Quiet, you.” He said, not knowing how to respond to the compliment. “Just finish the cube and go lay down.”
Optimus quickly drank the rest of the bright pink liquid and lay down on his back. “Doubt I’ll get any recharge after-“ He sighed. “After what I did to my sparkmate…”
Megatron slid onto the bed next to him. “Hey, just try not to think about it for tonight. Let’s just pretend like we’re back in Iacon again— Where we’re supposed to be.”
“Dee, you know I can’t—“
“Shut up and forget about everything. Forget about Elita for now. Forget about this ship. Forget about that fucking supernova. We’re okay. We’re safe back in Iacon. Just pretend we are… Orion.”
D-16 curled up next to Orion Pax, draping an arm across his chest and nuzzling his helm against the other Mech’s. His powerful engine purred against Orion’s frame. “Let me take care of you, Pax. Just like I used to back in Iacon.” He took one of Optimus’s hands and kissed it. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby. Just relax.”
D-16 lay several kisses all over Orion’s helmet, face, and neck, gradually shifting his body above his. Orion didn’t protest once. D-16 worked his way down the prime’s chest. He slipped his thumbs under Orion’s pectoral armor places and gently massaged the hot spots underneath. Orion’s back arched slightly as he let out a tired moan. D-16 moved down to Orion’s lower abdomen, just above his panel. He moaned into his waist as he kissed and licked every inch of the area, savoring the taste of warm perspiration forming on the surface of his partner’s armor. He then moved further down to Orion’s panel. D-16’s arms wrapped under Orion’s knees and his hands began to massage the hot spots on Orion’s sides. He slid his tongue through his thigh joint and licked until he could hear Orion’s valve panel slide open.
“I’m gonna make you cum. I’m gonna make you cum so hard you’ll forget about everything.”
Orion reached down and pressed D-16’s face deeper between his thighs. D-16 happily swirled his tongue around his partner’s valve and sucked on his sensory node. His sharpened canine denta would occasionally graze the tip of Orion’s node, causing him to gasp and whimper. D-16 released one of Orion’s legs and moved his now-free hand down to his already exposed spike. He moaned into Orion’s valve as he rapidly stroked it. He continued to suck on Orion’s node relentlessly. He wouldn’t stop, even after he could hear Orion crying from an intense overload. And Orion didn’t ask him to stop. He only pushed D-16’s face in deeper. The action increased his arousal and he began thrusting into his own hand.
“You taste so sweet, Pax…. Fuck.” D-16 kept thrusting his hips, venting heavily as he continued to devour his partner.
Orion had one last overload just before D-16 made a pink glowing mess on the floor in front of him.
“I clean everything up, baby. You just stay there.” Megatron said between laying kisses down Orion’s thigh.
The large silver and black mech reluctantly pulled away from Optimus to clean up the mess. Optimus’s optics were growing heavy, his body cooling down after the repeated overloading.
“Just fall asleep, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”
A few minutes later, Megatron slid back into the bed with Optimus. They fell into recharge mode together, both not having slept properly in weeks. When Optimus eventually awoke the next morning, Megatron was gone. Optimus felt cold again.
Optimus stared up at the ceiling, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever new nightmare the day would present to him. “I have to keep going.” He thought out loud to himself.
The old Prime took a deep vent and got up.