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Slowly, Misfire climbed onto his berth, lying down over it. He was still trying to get used to the absence of Grimlock, the absence of his fans humming steadily as he fell asleep on the floor, within Misfire’s reach should the jet need him. There was no doubt that he was glad Grimsy’s mind was fixed, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat alone. If Grimlock didn’t need the Scavengers anymore, if he didn’t need Misfire anymore, then it meant that they’d finally succeeded. He tried to comfort himself with this thought as he tossed and turned, incapable of sleeping in the eerily quiet room.
He was about to give up on trying to sleep altogether when he heard the door to his room open. Confusion filled him as he sat up, pushing forward so his legs dangled off of the berth. Squinting into the dark, he could barely see the rough outline of a large mech who was in the act of closing the door. “Spinister? Did you forget where your room is again?” He was steadily getting used to his shipmates, sometimes half-drunk, stumbling into his quarters.
The mech came closer, and as his optics adjusted to the dark, it became clear that this wasn’t Spinister. His size was much too large, and his optics were shielded behind a scarlet visor. A visor that he was very familiar with.
Wordlessly, Grimlock knelt at the foot of the berth, resting his heavy helm in Misfire’s lap as he let out a sigh. The warm air from his sigh caused Misfire’s leg cables to tingle as he sat still, unsure of what to do right now.
Huffing quietly, Grimlock nudged Misfire’s hip plates with his helm, prompting the jet into action. Resting a servo on his helm, Misfire let his digits trace the ridges on his helm, the way he used to when Grim did this.
The large mech relaxed, his engine humming happily as he felt Misfire’s touch. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his helm, beginning to climb onto the berth. He kept his movements controlled, watching Misfire as if waiting to be told to stop. He’d never done this before, and while he wasn’t afraid to try it, he obviously didn’t want to make the Decepticon uncomfortable.
However, Misfire didn’t stop him, and after the Autobot had managed to get his entire body onto the berth, he pulled his massive frame over him, letting him lie on top of him. Unbothered by his weight, Misfire smiled at the perfect feeling of love and safety that came as Grimlock wrapped strong arms around his back, holding him just a little closer as the Dinobot nuzzled his battlemask into Misfire’s neck.
With the steady thrum of Grimlock’s fans echoing in his audials, Misfire was finally able to fall into a deep sleep, a gentle smile resting on his lips throughout the entire night.
The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that Grimlock wasn’t over him anymore. At some point during the night, Grimlock had rolled over, reversing their positions on the berth. The Dinobot was already awake, and Misfire knew him well enough to read the embarrassment on his face, just from how his helm was angled and the way his optic ridges creased. What he was embarrassed about remained a mystery, however.
Stretching, he pushed off of him, sitting on the edge of the berth as he looked back at Grimlock. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but then again, he’d never been very good at keeping his mouth shut. “Why’d you come in last night, Grimsy? Not that I’m upset about it.” He hastily tried to make his words sound understanding, and just resorted to slapping his forehelm with a servo.
Grimlock’s response was a deep chuckle as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at Misfire. However, his amusement seemed to fade as he sat there, thinking of an answer to his question. Misfire watched his discomfort grow as Grimlock finally started to speak, staring down at his pedes. “ . . . I couldn’t sleep.”
The end of that sentence hung in the air between them, unspoken. ‘I couldn’t sleep, without you.’ It caused his cheeks to flush and his spark to pound in his chest. Forcing himself to swallow, he nodded, smiling slightly nervously. “Ah. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t either.”
Grimlock’s helm shot up, his optics meeting Misfire’s as his discomfort rapidly faded. “You’re not lying to me?” His vocals were tinged with disbelief.
Misfire’s smile smoothed out, becoming more genuine. “I’ve never lied to you, Grimsy. That’s not changing anytime soon.” The two stared at each other for another few moments, until Misfire’s calm facade slipped. Spark pounding wildly in his chest, he took a deep breath, laughing weakly. “Listen to me. I’m getting sappier every day.”
Ignoring his comments, Grimlock sat up, moving so he was sitting directly next to him. His breaths puffed through the vents on his battlemask, blowing lightly against Misfire’s cheek. “Look at me, Misfire.” The jet obeyed, looking up and into Grimlock’s visor. The Dinobot nodded as he did. “Do I have all your attention?”
He nodded again, giving a nervous smile. He felt like Grimlock was awfully close, but the Autobot seemed entirely unperturbed as he waited for some kind of verbal answer. Misfire swallowed back his nerves, making sure he could speak coherently. “I’m never too busy for you, Grim.”
Grimlock gave a low, throaty chuckle that made Misfire’s spark leap into his mouth. Relaxing, the large mech set a digit over Misfire’s lips, keeping him from saying anything else, which was good, considering the kind of things that usually came from Misfire’s mouth. “Good. I like having all of your attention.” He rested his strong servos on Misfire’s shoulders as he leaned in to nuzzle his battlemask against Misfire’s cheek.
He inhaled sharply, and then melted into his frame, softly nuzzling his mask as he set his servos on Grimlock’s waist. Taking that as a sign to continue his advancements, Grimlock moved his servos a little, lifting Misire by the armpits so he was straddling Grimlock’s lap, pulling their chassis close. “Is this okay?”
Misfire nodded quickly as he relaxed into his frame. “Mmhmm. This is perfectly a-okay, Grimsy.” He drew imaginary circles on his chassis, tracing the edges of his Autobot symbol. His spark thrummed in his chest, perfectly content with this.
A loud knock on the door very nearly scared him off of Grimlock’s lap, the jet letting out an ungraceful squawk as he jolted, one leg flying out to the side while he sat bolt upright. Grimlock’s response was much more controlled, merely a light jolt as they both looked towards the door. “Hey Mis, come on! I thought you wanted to help out at the bar!”
Grinning like a madman, he awkwardly clambered out of Grimlock’s embrace, almost falling as he stumbled to his pedes. The grin hadn’t faded in the least as he opened the door, smiling down at the minibot. “Hey Swerve. Sorry, had something to do.”
Swerve was about to ask a question when he caught sight of Grimlock, who was currently looking around the room. His glossia floundered for a moment before he pointed at the Dinobot. “Is that something?”
Laughing, Misfire left the hab suite, letting his servos rest on his hip plates as he walked. “What kind of line is that?” He asked, tilting his helm slightly.
Swerve’s face broke out into a large and happy grin as he started to explain. “Well you see, I was watching one of these human movies awhile back, and that’s some kind of term for how they mate and get their species to reproduce. The leading couple in the movie was put into a scenario just like yours, and the line was absolutely too perfect to pass up.” He chattered happily, and Misfire had no qualms against listening to the minibot, his fellow Recaptain. He knew how it badly it stung when people didn’t listen.
Grimlock watched him go, spark pounding in his chest so hard that he could feel it in his audials, a steady pulsing that pushed hard throughout his frame. Turning into the room, he closed the door, then set his servos flat on the wall, growling at himself. He’d been literally this close to kissing him. And he choked.
Livid anger surged in his chest as he slammed his helm into the wall. He was the strongest Dinobot who’d ever existed, and he’d let fear get the best of him. All it would have taken was him leaning forward, and he hadn’t. Maybe it was because he was scared of commitment. Maybe it was because, for all of his size and bluster, he’d never kissed someone before. A good portion of it was the fact that a kiss was the second-highest form of Cybertronian physical affection.
The biggest part, though he’d never admit it out loud, was that he feared rejection. Misfire was always nice to him, no matter what he’d done, or what state of mind he’d been in. He couldn’t tell if Misfire’s kindness was just because the Decepticon felt responsible for him, or if Misfire returned his affections. He was terrified of what the answer to that question might be.
His battlemask tingled with faint need, and he ran a servo across it, trying to lessen the desire. It helped some, but not as much as he would have liked. Giving up on that, his servo ran down his throat to his chassis, lighting touching his Autobot insignia. He could still feel the path that Misfire’s long digits had traced, and he imagined twining those digits with his own, pulling their frames together as he bent down to nuzzle his battlemask against those lips . . .
His spark was pounding again, battlemask heating up more. Growling, he dropped his servo as he started to leave, only stopping because of an odd ache in his chest. He wanted to talk about this. It was a rare feeling for the Dinobot, but he felt like he might combust if he had to keep this to himself. The problem was finding someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge him.
Fortress Maximus had spoken about a mech, a psychiatrist that supposedly was an excellent friend as well. He didn’t really feel comfortable talking to anyone other than Misfire, but Misfire was also the subject of his discomfort. Squaring his broad shoulders, he strode out into the hallway, looking for Swerve’s bar. Mechs looked up at him as he passed, some suspicious, others cautious. It didn’t matter than he was an Autobot like them. To them, he’d never stopped being a Decepticon. However, seeing as how the people he tolerated best were Decepticons, the judgement was bothering him less and less.
The bar was full, with groups of people sitting happily around tables while smooth music lightly poured out of the speaker systems. Four large containers of Engex boiled behind the counter, where MIsfire stood, filling two large glasses and handing them to Swerve, who promptly took them away to his customers.
He stopped for a moment, looking over at Misfire. The Decepticon had made himself right at home, sitting on the counter as he served up drinks and manned the radio, servos moving quickly over the countertop as he worked. Fuschia wings fluttered happily on his back, demonstrating his obvious joy in his work.
Grimlock let out a happy sigh, and without knowing quite how he got there, he found himself taking a seat at the bar. “You seem to fit right in.”
Misfire nodded and gave him a smile. No, not a smile. The smile. A slightly open-mouthed grin that make his cheeks bunch up and let his glossa be visible just behind his denta. Grimlock’s battlemask heated up a few degrees just from seeing it. Oblivious to Grimlock’s internal struggles, Misfire nodded. “It’s great! Everybody’s talking, everyone’s happy, and half of them are too drunk to be offended by the things I say!”
Grim couldn’t suppress a chuckle, tossing a few shanix onto the counter. “I’ll take a pint.” He watched the odd grace in which Misfire swept the money off the counter, sliding down a glass to replace it. “You’re good at this.”
Misfire shrugged, pouring a tall glass of Engex. “I’ve always been good with my servos, whether I’m pick-pocketing someone or fixing a body.” He dropped a straw into the drink, pushing it towards Grimlock. The large mech nodded, reaching up to open a small panel on his chin, which revealed a port that was just the right size for the straw.
Setting the top of the straw in, he was able to drink down the Engex, letting out a contented sigh.
Another customer came up, drawing Misfire’s attention as he slid down to them. Grimlock watched him, then internally scowled at himself. He hadn’t come here to oogle Misfire more. Turning in the chair, he looked out across the people, searching for the bot he had in mind. A skinny little orange mech named Primus. Or Rung. Most people just referred to him as the latter.
He saw him sitting at a table with a few other vaguely familiar mechs, and strode over, preparing for the worst.
“Don’t be afraid, Grimlock. I’m here to listen.” The scrawny psychiatrist sat across from him, smiling softly. Despite the mech’s kindness, Grimlock shifted his weight as he stood, slightly uncomfortable. He’d declined the chair he’d been offered, choosing to stand with his arms folded. He’d prepared everything he was going to say, as well as how he’d say it, and now, the words just wouldn’t come. He growled quietly, digits digging into his upper arms.
Unperturbed, Rung waited patiently for a few more moments before opening a compartment on his thigh and pulling out a datapad. “Would you feel more comfortable if you could write it?” Grimlock nodded, accepting the pad and a stylus, which looked comically small in his large digits. Steeling his resolve, he started to write, his handwriting slightly clumsy. Still, he persisted, and sat there for the better part of ten minutes, almost constantly erasing and starting a sentence over.
Once he finally finished, he passed the datapad back to Rung, somehow feeling more at ease than he had when he’d walked in. Rung nodded with a light smile as he accepted it, adjusting his glasses. “May I read this out loud?” With no visible reaction, Grimlock nodded, crossing his legs. He already knew how he felt. Maybe hearing it out loud would set some of his fears at ease.
Slowly, carefully, Rung started to read. “My problem is complicated. It’s loud, ungraceful, funny, and absolutely adorable. It has a fuschia paint job and offers me more kindness than anyone else I’ve ever known, and I’ve found myself increasingly attracted to it. It’s helped me through the hardest times in my life, and I want to tell my problem how I feel about it, but I don’t know if it feels the same way, or if it views me the way someone would a pet that they’ve owned for years. I don’t want to ruin what we already have, but every time I see my problem, my spark skips a beat and I can’t ventilate right. I’m aching to explain how I feel, or even better, just grab it and clutch it close the way I want to, but every time I try, I choke. I don’t know why I wrote this, or why I came. I just wanted to get it off my chest.”
Grimlock winced slightly as it was read off. Every word sounded massively sappy, and he instantly wished he’d kept that embarrassment to himself. Rung responded by cleaning his glasses, smile growing some. “I’m glad that you have someone you feel that way about, Grimlock.” His voice held no trace of judgement, and his expression was simply of some kind of quiet joy, almost fascination. “And I’m glad that you were willing to talk to me.”
He tucked the datapad away, standing up. “If you ever want to talk about this more, my door is always open.” The large mech gave a nod as he left Rung’s office, an odd weight lifted from his shoulders. He still wasn’t exactly sure of what to do, but his knotted tangle of fears felt more manageable now.
Misfire was still at the bar, and waved towards Grimlock as he came back in. “Hey Grimsy! You never finished your drink!” He waited until Grimlock had sat down before reaching under the counter, pulling his glass back out. “I kept it hot for you. Consider it a gift.” He winked at him as he wiped down the counter, moving smoothly.
Grimlock appeared unfazed by Misfire’s commentary, simply going back to drinking the Engex. Almost the entire drink disappeared in a few moments, and Misfire whistled. “I think you chugged that. Does that count as chugging? I guess it would just be chugging through a straw.” His voice was half a ramble as he looked at the glass. “Slagging pitspawns! That’s not a pint!” He’d gotten used to getting Grimlock bigger cups, and giving him more to drink in the past. He’d given him double what he’d asked for.
Grimlock looked down at the empty glass, his port clicking closed as he nodded slowly. “That’d explain why my helm’s buzzing.” He chuckled dryly, shaking his helm. “And now I’m tipsy. And I blame you.” He chuckled again, a coarse, throaty sound that had genuine amusement in it this time.
Leaning onto the counter, Misfire thumbed over to Rodimus and Whirl, who were both singing loudly and off-key, obviously drunk. “Could be worse. Those two got into a drinking contest.” He couldn’t suppress a loud laugh as he cleared Grimlock’s drink off the counter. “Then Megatron comes over and drinks them both under the table.” He turned his back for a moment as he cleaned out Grimlock’s cup, and when he turned back, almost clipped his nose on Grimlock’s battlemask, the Dinobot was sitting so far forward.
He was about to jump back when he saw the odd intensity burning in Grim’s visor. The larger mech’s optic ridges were drawn close together in concentration as he looked at Misfire. “Do that again.” His words were carefully chosen, and sounded oddly like an order.
Misfire responded with an awkward smile and nervous chuckle. “Do what, Grimsy? You’ll have to be a little more specific.” He shifted slightly uncomfortably under Grimlock’s gaze. Primus, that bot could stare.
Grimlock shook his helm lightly, sitting back. “That chuckle’s good enough.” He looked out over the room, then shook his helm again, rubbing two thick digits along the upper ridge of his battlemask. “I hate being tipsy.” He almost growled the words as he looked away, and Misfire got the distinct impression that if he’d had a mouth, he would’ve been scowling.
Misfire stepped aside to refill a glass before moving back to Grimlock. “Maybe you should head back to your room. Or go burn off some steam in the training rooms. I hear they’ve got some wicked simulators set up.” He moved out from behind the bar as Swerve reclaimed his place. The sudden feeling of arms around his waist caused him to give an ungraceful yelp as he was quickly pulled into Grimlock’s lap. The large mech nuzzled into the back of Misfire’s neck, using one strong servo to carefully tuck Misfire’s aft into the Dinobot’s hips. The Decepticon blushed hard at the sudden, random embrace. “Grimsy - Grim, what -”
“You smell good.” Grimlock’s servos slid along his hips, slowly wrapping around his waist and holding him just a little closer. Hot puffs of air pushed out of Grim’s vents, each once tainted with the scent of alcohol. “And you’re cute when you get flustered.” One servo reached up to hold Misfire’s, twisting their digits together. “You’re so small, Mis.”
He laughed awkwardly, the sound too shrill to be calm or natural. “Only compared to you, Grimsy.” He reached his free servo up to pat the back of the Dinobot’s neck. It seemed like a comforting gesture, but in reality, he was searching for his fuel regulation chip. His digits slid along Grimlock’s cabling as he searched, causing the larger mech to purr quietly, nuzzling in a little more. Part of Misfire, a larger part than he’d like to admit, was tempted to wait, to enjoy this surprising show of affection while he could. The other, more sane part of him insisted that nothing counted if Grimlock was drunk, and with half a sigh, he found the soft spot and activated Grimlock’s regulation chip.
A whirring noise came from Grimlock’s abdomen as the chip flushed all traces of alcohol from his system, and it completed its work in less than a minute. Now sober, Grimlock’s servos flew off of Misfire as if the jet was made of fire, then went back, lifting Misfire and setting him on the bar stool as Grimlock stood up. “Sorry.”
Misfire laughed and waved a servo, pretending that he couldn’t feel his spark lodged in his throat and pounding a mile a minute. “No worries, Grim. Besides, nothing counts when you’re drunk.” He smiled as convincingly as he could, leaning back against the counter with as much bravado as he could muster. In reality, his engine was tied up in knots, humming nervously as he struggled to keep his servos from shaking. Flickers of heat still ran down his spine as he thought about the feeling of being pulled against Grimlock’s chassis. “Yep. Everything’s perfectly a-okay!”
Nodding slowly, Grimlock turned away, then hesitated as he looked back at Misfire. “Misfire . . . I’ve been meaning to say this . . .” Misfire nodded, listening intently as his sparkrate increased even more, throbbing in the tips of his digits. “I . . . could I sleep with you . . . all the time? Like we used to?”
The jet nodded, smiling brightly. “Absolutely, Grimsy.” He relaxed some, though his spark still raced. “I’m glad to see that our relationship hasn’t changed much.” Which was true. He was glad that they were still at least friends. Even if he didn’t have the nerve to ask Grimlock out, at least he was still his best buddy.
The Dinobot nodded again, slowly turning on his heel and walking away, before Misfire could read the disappointment in his optics. Misfire had openly said that he was glad their relationship was the same. But still, the Decepticon hadn’t objected to any of his actions that morning. Despite what he’d just been told, a flicker of desire remained locked in his chest, only needing a little bit of sustenance to be turned into a flame.
Grimlock ambled through the Lost Light’s corridors, finding himself in one of the recreational rooms. TV’s lined one wall, half displaying recent Cybertronian news, the others showing videogame login screens. Across from them was a collection of couches surrounding a chess table, and the remaining walls were decorated with different knick-knacks that had been picked up on adventures, with bean bag chairs below them. Among several other people, Nickel sat in one of the bean bags, talking animatedly with a large Autobot. Roller, if Grimlock remembered right.
Nickel laughed at something he’d said, then took a sip from . . . an Ener-Go box? Grimlock has often seen Roller drinking out of them, but now he watched as she sipped from it, the small medic looking Roller with a strange light in her optics. No, strange was the wrong word. ‘Strange’ sounded almost sinister. The look in her optics was simply new, a shining light that flared whenever she glanced at Roller. Nickel’s small frame was snuggled deep into the bean bag, while all of Roller’s limbs hung off of his bean bag. The size difference between the two of them was near comical, and they seemed to be commenting on it at the moment.
“Your servos are at least as big as my pede!” She laughed as she spoke, sitting more upright. Smiling, Roller leaned over and reached down, holding his massive servo just next to her pede and revealing that she was right. It was a little bigger, but still at least as big.
The large mech smiled, then reached for the wheel on the bottom of her pede, digits hovering just above it. “May I?” She nodded with a smile, and he pressed three digits to her wheel, spinning it. A light shiver of sensation ran through her cables at the touch, and she rubbed the back of the mech’s helm fondly.
A sharp whistle caught Nickel’s attention as she looked up to see Grimlock standing in the doorway. The Dinobot looked stiff, and almost a little pissed. Of course, he typically looked that way. However, when he spoke, there was an almost nervous tremor in his voice. “Can I steal you for a moment?”
“Uh, sure.” Nickel pushed off of the bean bag, looking back at Roller with a smile. “See you later?” The large Autobot nodded back, waving to he as she left. A light smile clung to her lips for a moment as she walked alongside Grimlock, and then faded as she studied him. His arms were folded against his chest, and for the first time since meeting him, his helm was tilted down as he walked, instead of held high. “What’s wrong?”
Grimlock gave a wry laugh. “It’s that obvious?” Stopping, he leaned his back against the wall as he took a deep breath. “Well . . . I saw how you interacted with Roller.” He waited, and seemed to be thinking about how to continue as he gripped his upper arms tightly. “I — how — urg.” He rubbed along the upper ridge of his battlemask, and Nickel was smart enough to wait patiently. “How do you do that? How can you put your spark on the line and risk getting rejected?” The intensity behind his questions grew as he spoke. “How do you put your feelings out there so easily without using words?”
He abruptly fell silent, hanging his helm slightly. Nickel suppressed a gentle laugh. “Are you having problems with someone you like?” The Dinobot slowly nodded, shoulders hunched up to his audials as he tried to make himself smaller. She couldn’t help but smile at his reactions, at seeing such a strong bot having difficulty with emotions. “You’re the kind of guy to speak through actions, not words. Like, you saw how Roller reached to spin my wheel, then asked permission. Just do stuff like that. Show what you want to do, and ask every few moments if your partner is okay with it.”
Grimlock nodded as she spoke, listening intently to her advice. He could do that. Technically speaking, it was a fifty-fifty chance. If Misfire didn’t feel the same way, he’d know immediately, and if he did feel the same way, then he’d finally know and get all this worry out of his system. “Thanks.” With her words echoing in his mind, he strode back to Misfire’s hab suite, servos swinging at his sides and helm held high.
Misfire hung out with Swerve and Fulcrum for the rest of the day, slightly confused as to where Grimlock had gone. Even now and again, he’d look over his shoulder to tell the Dinobot something, only to see that he wasn’t there. It made him excited for the end of the day, when he walked into his hab suite, looking for Grimlock with the oddest feeling of desperation. The Autobot was there, and had been in the act of pacing before Misfire walked in. Looking up at him, Grimlock crossed the room in two long strides, reaching behind Misfire to close the door, their bodies inches apart. Misfire waited for Grimlock to move away. He waited. And waited.
Slowly, with calculated care, Grimlock let go of the door handle and set one servo on Misfire’s waist, the other resting on his upper thigh. Heat tingled at the spots he touched, and Misfire slowly set his servos over Grimlock’s. “Is this okay?” The Dinobot’s voice was rough, the slightest bit strained as he looked down at Misfire. Spark lodged in his throat and making it nearly impossible to speak, Misfire nodded, his fans whirring faster as his frame began to grow hot.
Grimlock nodded back, still moving slowly as he pressed Misfire into the wall, lifting the jet up so they were at optic level. “And this is okay?” Grimlock’s fans ratcheted up a notch, spinning faster as Misfire nodded again. Smiling slightly, Misfire moved his servos so he was holding Grimlock’s waist, pulling him closer. Grimlock went willingly, and Misfire wrapped his legs around his waist, spots of heat flaring everywhere Grimlock touched.
It took Misfire a moment to realize that Grimlock had started panting. He figured that the Autobot would have spoken up if something was wrong, so he didn’t worry, sliding his servos up Grimlock’s chest so he could tie his long arms around Grim’s neck. His smile slowly turned into a smirk. “Is this okay?” He spoke carefully, quoting Grimlock as he held him close. The Dinobot nodded, moving closer until their chassis clanked together. His vents fanned over the Decepticon’s lips, and without warning, he closed the gap, nuzzling his battlemask into Misfire’s lips.
Misfire kissed his mask softly, pressing his frame into Grimlock’s. The Autobot slid a servo along his waist, so he held him by the small of his back, tucking their bodies together. After several moments, Grimlock pulled his helm back, letting his battlemask slide down Misfire’s neck, every hot vent of air making the jet’s cables tingle. Shivering at the feeling, Misfire stroked the back of Grimlock’s neck, slowly beginning to pant.
Grimlock let out a low chuckle as he nuzzled into his cables, shifting some aside as his battlemask pressed in. A light moan pushed from Misfire’s lips, causing him to clamp a servo over his mouth and blush hard. Grimlock chuckled again, a coarse sound that vibrated into Misfire’s throat. “You like this?” Misfire nodded, not trusting his mouth anymore. Grimlock did it again, and Misfire squeaked as he let out a quiet moan, blushing harder. “It’s okay, Misfire. You can get loud.” He nuzzled in harder, as if daring him.
The jet moaned a little louder, panting hard as he clutched at Grimlock. His digits dug into the Dinobot’s back, and he would’ve worried that he was hurting him if it wasn’t for his massive size and strength. Holding him close, Grimlock stepped away from the wall, laying down over the berth with Misfire under him. He was careful to not crush the small bot, one servo sliding to his aft, guiding their hips together. Once that was done, he reached up to Misfire’s chest, tapping the upper panels of his chassis. “Open?” His voice was laced with nervousness.
Smiling reassuringly, Misfire kissed his mask softly as he opened up. His upper chest panels snapped open, revealing a port on one side, and a connector cable on the other. Grimlock opened his own chest, pulling out his connector cable. His servos trembled slightly, as he had never done this before, but he plugged it into Misfire’s port carefully. A wave of heat ran through the cable and into his frame, causing him to gasp as a charge built up, sensation humming just under his armor. He moaned quietly, the pressure mounting, searching for a way to be released. Misfire panted and moaned, using one slightly unsteady servo to pull out his own cable, and he pressed the cable into Grimlock’s port.
The pressure hit its peak, causing both mechs to shudder with sensation as it dispersed, pleasure filling their cables and making the Autobot moan. Grimlock relaxed with a sigh, feeling the sensation all the way down to his pedes. A cooler, more relaxed pleasure replaced the wave of heat, and Grimlock found that he could feel all of Misfire. His frame, as well as his thoughts and the emotions behind them. Misfire smiled at Grim’s expression of disbelief, the Decepticon speaking to him mentally. You know the saying ‘Till all are one’? This is the closest you can get to that without dying.
Grimlock responded by nuzzling his battlemask into Misfire’s lips, feeling both his sensation and Misfire’s as he did. He wasn’t sure of exactly how long they stayed like this, but he stayed cuddled against the Deception until he could sense that Misfire had fallen asleep, his thoughts now a cloudy mess of vague colors and random words. Chuckling softly, Grimlock unplugged their cables, the feeling of connection disappearing as he held Misfire close, falling into a calm sleep.
Misfire’s wings fluttered as he woke up, his circuits still tingling faintly from the waves of pleasure he’d ridden on the previous night. However, he couldn’t help feeling oddly empty without Grimlock’s sensations and thoughts running through him. Despite all this, he was glad to feel the Dinobot over him, and once again, awake before him. With a soft smile on his lips, he kissed the side of Grimlock’s mask. “Morning, Grimsy.”
Grimlock purred softly at the touch. “Morning, Misfire.” His voice was even coarser this early in the morning, and made Misfire’s engine rev. The Autobot shifted, moving his servos so one was behind Misfire’s shoulders, the other pressed to the small of his back. He tugged him closer, the Decepticon’s flexible frame fitting nearly perfectly into the curves of Grimlock’s body, a light shiver of pleasure running through him as their plates caught. Grimlock’s voice was felt as much as it was heard. “Is this okay? Should I move?”
Misfire made a noise of disapproval as he set his servos on the curves of Grimlock’s waist, lightly stroking. “Don’t you dare move, Grimsy. This is perfect.” Slowly, he carefully twisted their legs together, holding the Dinobot as close as he could, almost entirely enveloped by him. “I love you, Grimlock. But you knew that.” He smiled as he thought over the emotions that had passed into and out of his mind the night before, when they were still linked up. He didn’t have to tell Grimlock how he felt. The Autobot had gotten to feel it for himself.
Grimlock’s purrs were amplified by Misfire’s touches as he nestled his entire body into the Decepticon’s, and Misfire shivered again as the large mech’s plates caught on his. He could feel Grim’s purrs vibrating into frame, and he let out a happy sigh. Never before had he felt this safe, or this loved. It was a beautiful feeling, and he would have sold Spinister to Unicron to keep it with him forever.
Unfortunately, ‘forever’ was cut short by a sharp knock on the door. Misfire was strongly, so, so strongly tempted to let it go unanswered, to just cling to Grimlock and make this moment stretch out for a little longer. But the unwelcome visitor persisted, knocking again. Misfire let out an angry sigh, holding Grimlock tighter as if that would make the unseen intruder disappear. “Do you think they’ll go away if we ignore them?” His voice was little more than a whisper, spoken directly into the Autobot’s audials and making the larger bot shiver.
A third knock shattered the illusion, and Grimlock sighed this time, nuzzling into Misfire’s cheek with a distinct air of sadness before pulling away, slowly disentangling himself from the smaller mech, his chest panels clacking closed as he sat up. Misfire rose up with him, reluctantly scooting back until there was enough distance between them that he didn’t feel tempted to touch him anymore. The jet took a moment to close his chest panels before rising up, moving to the door and opening it. He was about to give Krok a piece of his mind when he abruptly shut up, snapping to a salute.
Megatron chuckled. “No need for that, Misfire. I’m just Megatron now.” He handed him a small box, with a large gold bow on it. “One of the crew members wanted to give you a welcoming gift.” The co-captain leaned in some, so he was near the jet’s audial. “Word of advice? Don’t trust what’s inside. Anode has a tendency to prank her shipmates.”With that, Megatron clapped his shoulder, gave one last look at Misfire’s Decepticon insignia, and left. If he’d seen Grimlock in the room, he hadn’t mentioned it.
Closing the door, Misfire went back in and sat down next to Grimlock, holding and shaking the package. Something inside rattled with a very metallic sound. Misfire nodded, then tilted the box at odd angles, letting the gift shift around. After a few more moments of doing this, he smiled. “Well, it’s either spray-paint, or something very similar.” He gripped the top of the box and pulled it off, looking down at a small can of top-coat polisher.
He lifted the can, shaking it up. “Well, if this is a prank, might as well see what she put in here.” Standing up and stepping away from the berth, Misfire sprayed it over his entire torso area. In hindsight, it would’ve been smarter to just spray it on a servo. The polisher seemed to be exactly that, his armor shining faintly under the dim lighting. Shrugging, he walked back to Grimlock. “I dunno, Grimsy. This thing seems to be-”
He let out an undignified squeal as his body lurched forward, chassis clanging hard as it slammed into Grimlock’s. The Dinobot jolted slightly, setting strong servos on Misfire’s shoulders and trying to push him off, but nothing moved. Misfire couldn’t help but laugh, impressed. “Magnetizing spray, disguised as topcoat polisher. Well played, Anode.” His smile grew as he slid his chassis up Grimlock’s, never pulling away, but moving so he was sitting on the Autobot’s lap. “Little does Anode know, this is my favorite place in the world, and now I have an excuse to stay
here.”
Grimlock chuckled, that same deep sound that never failed to excite Misfire. “How long till it wears off?” Even as he spoke, he set his servos on Misfire’s hips, one thick digit tracing the seams in his plates with care. It caused Misfire to inhale sharply before resting his helm on Grimlock’s chest, absorbing as much of the feeling as he could. Grimlock’s frame kicked up a few degrees as Misfire relaxed, and the magnetizing spray held the jet against his body, allowing Grim’s servos to move over new areas.
Thick digits ran along the the Decepticon’s seams, winding around to the front of his waist. It took some effort to pry their bodies apart enough to fit his servo, but Grimlock managed to push a digit in, running it along the tops of his hip plates until he found the right gap, and slowly, pressed his digit in between Misfire’s paneling, running the tip of it along his hip joint. “Is this okay?”
Misfire’s response was a gentle gasp and a quick nod. “Y-Yeah. That’s good.” He smiled as he lightly nuzzled into Grimlock’s neck, feeling the Autobot’s soft touches on one of the most sensitive parts of his frame. He forgot about Grimlock’s original question, and neither one moved, even when the magnetizing spray wore off. All Misfire did was wrap his arms around Grimlock’s back, so he didn’t slide off his lap. The two stayed comfortably together, both existing in their own, personal Cybertopia.