Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He was tired of the creaking, the groaning, and the hiss of frames letting the stress of being stiff as they walked and stretched when they left. He'd fixed them, he'd hear their story out, he'd lecture or complain, they'd leave. That's how its always been and he didn't feel any difference in the way they left. Silent and disregarded him.

He was just a medic, he must not have feelings. Feeling didn't get anyone anywhere. He had a good reason for his no emotion quota and how he would just scowl rather then have a straight face, but he guessed it was pathetic so he just dismissed his thoughts. He wasn't very fond of how First Aid was jumpy and constantly looked for his sticker of approval. First Aid was going to be the heir to the medical bay soon (or at least that's what he felt like) and he needed to learn that that one opinion doesn't matter to a medic. Pit, even he didn't care if Rodimus or Ultra Magnus liked his treatments.

He was just a medic, huh?

Soon, he began to clean everything up as his internal clock practically said, "QUITTING TIME!" He about punched his own helm about that too. In space, you couldn't look out a window and expect to go, "Hey, the suns out! It's noon!" because you saw moons and suns ever so often and after some time, you'd see an occasional lonely dead planet out of nowhere. He was never able to have a quitting time, he was the cleaner and datapad mech for the medical bay, even with First Aid and Ambulon fixing the other side of the med bay.

This time was different though. He suddenly felt something in his back pop and his wrist practically exploded in mixtures of pain and freezing numbness. He had to lean against a berth and to not get everything in his body to fall out in pain or nausea. He felt First Aid and Ambulom try and help him but he dismissed them as he just sat on the medical berth behind him. That stopped his spinning and nausea but the pain was indeed spacing out in his wrist and upper waist.

He was about to get up again but he fought again it, his back was on fire worse then his servos. And he just got these servos from his trip with Drift and Pipes to Delphi, where he meet First Aid, Ambulom, and Fortress Maximus.

He almost gave up on trying to numb his sensors in his body when a tall but lithe frame tried to get past the crowd of two medics in front of him.

"Hurting through the new appendages?" The smooth voice said, "Well, I didn't cut them off Pharma cleanly so I expected you to have small problems with 'em."

He looked up to see the white and red frame he had seen in here not to long ago. Drift. The ex-Decepticon was very lean as he stood over top of the sitting medic. The TiC of the Lost Light was watching him with knowing optics and a small smile that could have almost been counted as a frown if you didn't have very good sight. And for him, he was giving himself a little bit too much credit, he did have some good eyesight left.

"No, I leveled your handiwork off and I'm glad to say, there was no evidence you even cut them off another living Autobot." He said and looked up a little at the superior officer, "Even if it was in an attempt to save my hide."

First Aid and Ambulom didn't move. Usually, any Autobot whom would of heard of a ex-Decepticon cutting off limbs from a fellow Autobot would have made them run, but everyone in here knew Pharma. Some more then others. Everyone in here was glad Drift had cut off Pharma's servos, that means that mad doctor is either dead from his fall or unable to harm another poor sparked mech or femme that crossed his path. After the disease was passed out by Pharma to everyone, only First Aid and Ambulom were left alive because of their failure to transform and start the disease within themselves.

Smart mechs, even if Ambulom didn't have a good alt mode at all.

"Well, I was hoping to see at least some of my work pass on." Drift said and chuckled, "The fruits of a labor?"

"Well," He said and said sarcastically, "your labors are over and I hope you like that I am enjoying these new servos."

"No." Drift said and just chuckled again.

"Stubborn child." Was all he said to the white mech after that.

Drift frowned and he had the happy look in his optics go to the defensive type. Drift hated being called a "kid," "child," or even "childish." Anything that had to do with being ignorant or less then what he is. And if remembered what Drift told him, he was "diligent and spiritual." Whatever...

"I don't like being called that." Drift said and he stepped in front of the old medic.

"Well, then stop being it. Your almost as bad as Swerve or Rodimus, maybe even Tailgate." The old medic said and groaned as he heard that Primus forsaken pop noise again, this time amplified by the silence.

Drift sucked in air through his teeth and looked down again, but he didn't say an remark to the harsh gear noises. He just stood there and that was all he needed to do.

No words.

No actions.

No direct attention to the old timer.

Just his presence was good enough to be there. A nice aura and spark to be around. Ratchet cursed, he was turning into a spiritual mech himself with Drift just standing there. But who was complaining...?

--()---()--

Drift would have dragged the medic out of the med bay had it not been for the sickly noise of breaking wires and snapping gears. He was a very sensitive mech, he knew when to leave well enough alone. But when he saw First Aid and Ambulom circling Ratchet, he just had to intervene because it was past Ratchet's shift hours. He should know, he and Ultra Magnus were shift directors. He was going to ask the old medic if he wanted to join him at Swerve's bar, it should be abandoned other then a few occasionally bots.

Now, he wasn't so sure that it was a good idea inviting Ratchet there anymore. Drift had asked Ratchet if he would join him but Ratchet looked up at him with defiance and rejection before shutting all emotions out, but cheers to the younger medics when they said that Ratchet would definitely join him sooner or later. He knew he could count on them to somehow get Ratchet to chill with the rest of the crew.

Now, he was kind of regretting it.

He was right, the bar had been practically empty when he arrived but for some reason, Swerve had turned the lights so dim that the lowest grade engex could even glow bright and pink, red, and violet lights were rotating around the room. It was too romantic a setting for an empty bar. He had ordered a drink of high grade and sat in a seat at the end of the bar, just off the center of the room. Drift wasn't that big an alcoholic anymore, but he could stand a few eight cubes before he even got the feeling of falling over. He had noticed mechs were piling in when music started to play, thick heavy bass music that was a little out of his taste and the room could have vibrated with the bass. Mechs came in in pairs and he made a noise in his throat, he could see all groups were anxious (or annoyed) by being here with the other beside them. Cyclonus and Tailgate. Skids came by himself but eventually stood by Swerve behind the bar. Fortress Maximus and Rung, somehow Rung must have gotten the unstable mech to agree. Trailbreaker and Pipes. Blaster dragging Red Alert. And even Rodimus whom was being tailed by Ultra Magnus. The frag did Rodimus do that? And soon, the whole crew packed in the bar.

And suddenly it all made sense to Drift, it was a romantic theme tonight. Swerve chose themes for his bar and what he called "Friday Night shindig." And he regretted inviting the medic here, it would look like he had planned this and be seriously didn't.

This was going to be a long night...

--()---()--

Drift had spaced out, when he came to, the music had changed to a softer but more speedy romantic song as he looked around. The party had escalated from mechs walking in to mechs actually hopping on their partners or gambling on things he'd rather not share. He looked down at his servo and found his energon had been stolen and that made him feel bad, had he been so out of it that he hadn't heard a intoxicated oaf steal his energon clumsily?

But what made him jump was there was someone sitting next to him. He was surprised because he had put his swords in the chair next to him. He may have regretted inviting the medic, but he was not going to invite him and not save the medic a seat. He was gonna snap that the mech better move when he was a familiar boxy frame next to him.

Ratchet had actually come.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to acknowledge me." Ratchet said And drank his engex he must have gotten in his wait for Drift.

"I..." Drift couldn't come up with anything and he was about to to ask Ratchet why he had come here even if First Aid was the one to say he would come, but he said something stupid instead. "Who... who toke my energon?"

Ratchet chuckled with his lips softly brushing the edge of the cube he had and pointed into a crowd of party dancers who were hogging the dance floor, "Well, I may have seen a red and yellow mech take it and try to dump it on you until a giant blue mech stopped him and take him away to the opposite side of the bar."

Rodimus? Why would Rodimus have a reason to dump energon on him other then the fact he was drunk or wanted to just mess around with him?

"Don't think about it much, kid. We all have that one little niche everyone seems to want to pick at, and Rodimus must wanted to ruin your paint." Ratchet said and toke a tiny sip of his energon.

It was very hurtful. Not the Rodimus thing, he could handle their drunk captain. The kid thing again.

"I'm not a kid." Drift said and went looking for Swerve again, good thing Swerve came to him.

"Hello, my superior officer, may I get you anything?" Swerve asked and he almost dropped a cube of energon when someone made grabby-servos to the plate of high grade.

"What I had before." Drift said and looked at the crowd again, hoping Rodimus wasn't here now.

Swerve grabbed a random cube from his plate and set it on the table. Swerve didn't say anything as he went to serve another customer who was yelling for multiple different energons. Drift was about to drink when he realized that this wasn't his original blend of energon. It was some fancy silver engex mixed with the highest energon in the bar, and the cube size was a little bigger and the crystal glass thicker, showing it was very powerful.

"What the-? I asked for my original energon!" Drift said and was about to get Swerve's attention when Ratchet put a servo on his shoulder.

"While you were out, Swerve opened a little thing were someone can buy energon for someone else anonymously. You know, to match the theme." He explained and toke a sip of his regular energon.

So someone ordered him his ticket back to being an alcoholic? That was appreciative, but it was a little unnerving. Someone wanted him wasted off his aft of course...

"Did you see anyone buy this blend from Swerve?" Drift asked his guest and moved the cube around the table in a way to keep his servos busy.

"The Pit if I know. Everyone is doing it, they're going for the highest and most effective engex to get drunk on." Ratchet made a face. "I don't like it, people drowning in drugs and elixirs as they wait for someone to just strike a conversation that'll end up with them in another mechs berth."

"Well..." That ruled out Ratchet for the sender of the delicious looking blend, "Who would probably do this?"

Ratchet scratched his chin, "Well... a lot of mechs here were buying for another. Swerve set up where he gives ever mech a number and he'd point at someone and call them by their number, like he'd point at... Hound and say, "Number 21?" So it's basically anonymous."

"Any ideas, Ratch?" Drift asked again, a little unnerved again.

"Um..." Ratchet scratched his chin again, "Well, it could be Rodimus because he seemed in the mood to grab your attention. It could have been Trailbreaker, he's just passing energon around and hoping to get lucky. Um..."

Drift wanted to go into hysterics, how could Ratchet just sit there casually and not at least keep an optic out for him!

"I do think I know someone who might have done it..." Ratchet said and made a noise in his throat as he looked at Drift from the corner of his optic, "Someone pointed at you and Swerve smiled, I think it was-."

"OKAY MECHS AND GENTLER MECHS!" Swerved voice literally boomed out over the music and now silent mechs, "BE QUIET-Oh! You already are, sorry!"

Swerve had taken a stand on the stage near the back middle of the bar and he was grinning like he usually did when he had ideas and Drift didn't like it. Swerve was too sneaky and conniving as it is.

"As you know, the room was set to a romantic tone to... mellow you partygoers out for the challenge tonight." That made a lot of the room cheer while the others murmured and look around in anticipation, "The challenge is simple..."

It wasn't going to be easy...

"A few minutes ago, I asked a bunch of anonymous mechs who they'd like to participate in the challenge. And I'm sorry to say, all of you who bought from me were not asked because it was too obvious who you would choose." Half the room groaned and Swerve continued, "The challenge is based on a human phrase, thanks to our local mechs who've been there..."

A lot of optics turned to either Ratchet, Perceptor, or Hound. Drift could understand why to, they were survivors from the Earth battles. But why the people wouldn't look at Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, or anyone else was weird.

Swerve went into a folder and brought out a few cards that were fancy with little gold trims on the edges, "The rules are that the two mechs must say who they interfaced with, or they kiss. Bot just one mech, both mechs. So the first up is..."

He fiddled with the cards.

"First up, Blaster and Red Alert!" Swerve made his way to the two and Skids moved the lights so they shown on the two friends as Swerve pointed the microphone to the two, "Who was your last interface with?"

Drift felt sorry for Red Alert, he could see the Security Director was going to snap and push someone down to get away from this Primus forsaken game. Drift would have done the same thing as well, he wasn't letting anyone in his personal life. No one needed to know about Wing...

Drift didn't listen, he didn't want to know how it was going, but his audios paid a little bit of attention to the actions. Red Alert went into a crazy sobbing fit and told he had last interfaced with a mech named Inferno. He was sad for the Security mech. And the thing was, Red Alert probably didn't want to kiss his friend, that's probably why he told and Blaster ruined that by not telling and had to kiss Red anyway. And from what he heard, Blaster enjoyed not telling about his last interface. Drift got mad with Blaster, he saw how Red Alert didn't want to kiss him so why did he-?!

"Soundwave." Ratchet said next to him.

"What?" Drift asked as he looked at his friends.

"Blaster's last interface was with Soundwave." Ratchet said and sighed, "Blaster was kidnapped and when he came back, he was pretty banged up. I looked over him and his spike was mangled, he was never the same for a while and he was never happy when the Decepticons or even when Soundwave was mentioned."

Drift didn't feel so mad anymore, when you put two and two together, Blaster actually had a good reason.

Drift didn't want to learn anything else, he didn't want to pry into a mechs love life or past, he already learned too much about Blaster already. He looked at the intoxicating mix and he slowly slid it to him as he heard Swerve move onto Cyclonus and Tailgate. He looked at it, the anonymous giver wasn't going to kiss him, Swerve had clarified it and the best thing was to just drink it. With luck, it might erase the information about Blaster's past. Yeah, those are the reasons he's drinking it...

He drank it with vigour and he instantly regretted it, it burned! He was about to cough but suddenly everything went numb and his face and pelvic area were warm with the feeling of heat he never knew. His body didn't tremble but it twitched every so often. The scary thing was, his body practically made him drink it all at once. He was scared he might over drink himself and crash badly...

All he remembered before he lost himself to a drunken haze was Swerve's voice crying, "Drift and Ratchet!" and a pink lights loomed over them...

--()---()--

Ratchet almost jumped out of his seat as he heard Swerve yell his and Drift's names over the microphone and a pink florescent light landed on them. He was watching Drift when he finished telling Drift about Blaster and he saw how Drift was upset about it but not mad like he was when he probably heard Blaster kiss Red Alert. It was about six-minutes later and a bunch of other couples other spilled their secrets or kissed when Drift (to Ratchet's horror) drank the whole engex intoxication mix in one long, long swig. Drift began to twitch and he let the energon cube just fall to the table as he twitch every second from a different part of his frame. When Swerve yelled their names, he just got mad at anonymous for putting Drift and Ratchet on Swerve's list.

Swerve did a happy little jog to Ratchet and Drift's seats and held the microphone to Ratchet, "Look at who is up next folks! Who was your last interface, Doc' bot?"

Ratchet didn't move and and didn't speak at all. When he looked up, he saw Pipes staring back at him, a sad look. He couldn't bring himself to say anything at first and he kept glancing between Pipes and Drift. The word was right on his glossa, Pharma. The name was right there but he couldn't say it, he kept thinking of what Pharma had done to all three of them...

"Well, Doc'? Your answer?" Swerve whispered to him.

Ratchet looked down at the drunken mess of a mech he called a host and he leaned into the microphone, "No one needs to know..."

Swerve smiled, "Tsh. Tsh. You know the rules, Ratch."

"I know." Ratchet sighed and looked at the intoxicated samurai.

Drift was looking back at him but even through the intoxicated haze, Ratchet could see Drift was very proud of Ratchet for not giving anything up to the crew. Drift leaned up straight and Ratchet was surprised Drift was sitting up without a hunch or falling back over. Drift smiled with a happy upturn of his lips and he leaned over to Ratchet while some of the crowd whistled. Ratchet leaned into Drift and they pressed their lips barely together where they could brush their lips together but soon, Drift closed the distance softly and he savored the taste of Drift on his lips even if he radiated engex.

It was soft, and Ratchet was glad that Drift wasn't giving into the effects of his drink and just jumping him or using force on him while they kissed. Ratchet let Drift run his glossa over his lip softly and Drift retreated slowly, making Ratchet follow him just as slowly but he stopped the connection as well when he realized Drift was ending the kiss. They had tuned out the crowd and just stared at each other for a while before Swerve yelled out over the microphone.

"Looks like we know who's going to show the ol' Doc how to use the berth tonight!" Swerve said and the crowd yelled and cried out erratically in ecstatic.

Ratchet wanted to tell the little mech off but when Drift kissed him his check, Drift got his attention.

"Maybe Swerve is right. Maybe... it's time friends become even more then friends." Drift slurred.

Ratchet didn't know how to answer Drift but the kisses rained his faceplates and Ratchet found himself against the bar tabletop.

Chapter Text

Ratchet would have punched the drunken samurai if he hadn't somehow considered Drift's feelings in what he was doing. For Drift, this could just be something to let off steam and maybe, just maybe, he would crash of processor strain. But that was asking for a miracle. The silver engex and highest grade energon concoction was practically an energy holy grail, like giving a sparkling a hauler truck full of sweets and saying "Help yourself!"

It'd be a miracle if he got Drift off him before he made a move on him.

Ratchet couldn't look Drift in the optics when the TiC pinned the medic to the bar counter and pressed his body up against the medics own body, trailing his lips over the red grooves on the old doctors helm. It would have been enjoyable, maybe even thrilling, to the medic if some of the crowd on their side of the bar hadn't paid them any attention. But unfortunately, their lucky was sour and some crew member pointed them out for the whole room to look at. The word spread faster then Ratchet could have thrown a wrench, and the room swiftly watched them.

Ratchet could feel Drift's lips start to play with his chevron and his body started to smother Ratchet's own against the bars main table. Ratchet pulled his servos from the tables edge and put them on Drift's triceps, making the samurai softly grunt and blow hot air over his sensitive chevron.

"Drift..." Ratchet whispered, loud enough for only Drift to hear, "Everyone is watching us."

Drift didn't answer right away but when he did, he pulled Ratchet's helm up to meet his optics, "Don't matter... n'one is important to me other the ya'..."

Ratchet pursed his lips in a straight line and he ignored the noise someone made in the back of the room, "But when you come out of this drunken stupor, you will think everyone's opinions are important! Get off!"

Ratchet started to push on Drift's upper arms, near the shoulder, to get the ex-Decepticon off of him but he didn't budge. Scrap. That stupid concoction was probably giving Drift just enough strength and stamina to hold the distressed medic to the counter, and Ratchet could tell he was holding back a lot of what the drink was making Drift's mind want to do because his optics and his legs twitched and his arms were strained (he could see them stiffen and flex when impulses came in and out the appendages). Ratchet was grateful at least in the slightest for Drift considering him in his circumstance.

"No." Drift pinned the medic again and this time, Ratchet felt the table press into his armor a little too roughly, "I don't care..."

"You will! Drift, you'll regret this when your not overcharged!" Ratchet looked up at the TiC and he almost forgot about the crowd watching them intently. Almost.

Drift growled, actually growled, at Ratchet. The medic was pressed against the samurai so close that he could fell his insides vibrate while the hot and intense smelling violent outtake of air hit his face. He could have sworn he saw a hint of regret in Drift's optics.

"I don't want to... I don't want ta' give up one of the few people who Ah still care about." Drift started to hiccup and Ratchet's optic widen in realization.

"Move!" Ratchet yelled and, because he was trapped against the bar, he squatted down to his knees to avoid what was to come.

Real quick note from Ratchet: when a Transformer hiccups, that meant move out from in front of them. Skids heard Ratchet and he moved out of in front of the samurai just in time to not get purged on. Drift hunched over the desk and coughed as he stopped purging all over the bar counter.

"Not a party til someone gets sick..." Was heard over the sudden silence in the bar.

Ratchet got up when Drift stopped choking and gagging and found that Drift had not been effected at all by his body rejecting the drink. Ratchet inspected the mess behind him and he was surprised to see that the silver engex was the only thing that came out, not the energon he had consumed. His body must have found something it didn't like in the engex and toke all the high grade out of it and sent it on its way, the way it came out of, Drift's mouth. Ratchet tried this time to pry Drift off but he found that he wouldn't budge once again. His frame stopped twitching and his strength didn't go down but the strain Drift had been putting in his arm was. He made a noise of doubt, Drift was bound to fall over soon.

He was wrong.

Drift started to begin again with nibbling at his chevron, but more feverishly this time and Ratchet felt his legs shake out of feeling his chevron sensors come to life again. He mumbled under his breath about how dumb ignorant mechs are now.

"Drift, now will you let go?" Ratchet softly asked, "Everyone is watching now for sure and you just almost threw up on me and Skids."

"No." Was all he got from Drift before Drift crushed him against the counter again.

Good thing the purge was on top of counter and not on the edges or the rims. He felt a spray of water (at best) and a wash cloth pass behind him and he was sure it was Skids, cleaning up after Drift's purging experience. He frowned even further and he looked behind him slightly to realize Skids was giving him the thumbsup and he was about to growl until he felt nipping on his neck. Derma racked over every inch of his neck and Drift used his sharp helm to make Ratchet raise or lower his helm to his specifications and Ratchet groaned when Drift started to suck softly and move his body to grind against Ratchet's own, the rocking nothing more then little dancing feelings. He was groaning a little more then he liked but it was loud enough for someone in the crowd to start the cheering up again. Ratchet felt Drift sink his derma into his necks sensitive area, under the helm audio sensor, and not let go until Ratchet trembled and moaned to his actions. Ratchet felt Drift reluctantly pull his derma from his new wound.

Ratchet would have growled at the mech had it not been the least bit pleasurable and he felt his body tremble against the samurai's own body, the ex-Decepticon started to lap at his neck where he bit at. Ratchet then realized, thanks to his advanced medical internal scanners, Drift had drawn energon from his neck with a simple bite and Ratchet almost tried to push Drift away again to repair it. Almost.

Drift started to rock more violently but more in control then the last time and Ratchet could hear the crowd slowly start to cheer again but this time, with vigour.

"Drift..." Ratchet said softly as the samurai started to trail his servos down Ratchet's frame, "Drift..."

Drift didn't answer back as he trailed his servos over the medics boxy armor but curvy protoform, the only thing keeping Ratchet pinned was his legs. Drift's legs were pressing Ratchet's together in an attempt to make sure the medics knees were too close together for him to even attempt to run. And it worked, Ratchet's knees were very wobbly against the stool pressed underneath the bar table.

"Drift..." Ratchet said, this time a little bit threatening.

"Shut up..." Drift growled back and his servos landed one Ratchet's crotch plate, "Don't... draw too much attention..."

Ratchet felt Drift finger at the plate a little and Ratchet knew that if Drift actually tried to get under his plating, he could. But Ratchet had a feeling that Drift didn't mean "Don't draw too much attention" as in the interfacing way, but...

Before Ratchet could finish his thoughts, Drift collapsed on top of him, the samurai just a little heavier then what he expected...

Ratchet straightened Drift on his shoulder and he felt Drift's hot breath on the back of his neck and in his shoulder armor transformation crevices. He started to pull out of the room But he kept bumping into people and getting amused snickers every time someone looked at him and saw Drift hanging limp on his shoulder.

Ratchet exited the room and the noises were drowned out when the door locked. Yes, Swerve had made him and Perceptor build that. And the niche was, he was forced to make it after he was supposed to be on "berth rest" after Delpi. Drift and Pipes had gotten their rest, Ratchet, of course, didn't get it and he growled.

After this, he just needed to take a long slagging nap...

Ratchet watched the samurai sat up with a cry. It wasn't twenty minutes after Drift had collapsed at the bar and now, they were both in the med bay. Ratchet had checked the samurai over and he was fine, just going to be overcharged for a while. Maybe he'd get better by docking hours, or in layman's terms, by noon time tomorrow.

Ratchet didn't know what to do when he felt a servo on his arm and he simply tried to shake it off, only to fail, "Next time you pass out, make sure you warn me next time."

He didn't get an answer back and he didn't expect one back, but he expected the servo to move over his arm in a passionate way. And that's what happened. Overcharged mechs are very much predictable, especially when their your friend or at least some you caught a deadly disease with.

Ratchet felt Drift sneak his servo down his arm and switched to his stomach plate, digging his digits in as they neared his panel that protected his inner tanks and the protoform. Ratchet didn't fight him this time, and he just stood there, letting Drift dig into his body.

"I'd warn you... but my throat was full." Drift said softly.

"With purge." Ratchet finished and he shifted from pede to pede.

Drift smiled but Ratchet felt Drift's digits express something he wasn't showing off in real life. Lust. Drift was practically dripping lust through his EM field as well as his actions and Ratchet didn't stop him. He had enough surprises today and what happened at the bar was definitely within his quota for surprises. Now... He was going with the flow of how his luck was guiding him.

"Ratchet..." Drift whispered and cupped Ratchet's hip, "Let go... just tonight... with me... for yourself..."

Ratchet felt his body go dry and something inside him drop, like he'd swallowed iron and he was suffering for it. He didn't know how to answer Drift and it was easy to tell the samurai did want it. Even if it was just the lust that was present tonight only.

"Ratchet..." Drift sounded pleading now, "Please..."

Ratchet just sighed. Drift must have had something on his mind for him to beg for a frag. Drift must not be in the right mind set to put anything together but Ratchet did, and what Drift just said reminded him of the Dead End. Ratchet remembered when Orion Pax had lumbered the future Decepticon into his clinic and he fixed him poor mech up. Burns. Scratches. Drug scents and leftovers in his tanks and throat tubing. Missing necessary upgrades and body armor for a mech his age. Ratchet had fixed it all, fixed the buymech up and sent him back into the Dead End, a place where mechs go to die whatever way is given to them, with only a few words of encouragement.

Ratchet grabbed Drift's wrist from his hip and he held it up to where Drift could see it, captive in Ratchet's new servos. Drift had a slightly anxious look, the look you who give when your expecting both ends of a decisions. The one where you accept the rejection or you greedily devour the exception.

"You'll get what you want..." Ratchet shot down Drift's happiness, "After you rest."

Drift made a face like he was trying to process the deal with whatever was left of his processor that wasn't hazy with engex.

Ratchet was actually trying to get Drift to recharge all this off. If Drift fell to recharge, he would be knocked out instantly and he would wear off the drug, he would end up with simply the hangover when he awoke from his rest. Ratchet just hoped that Drift toke it.

Drift groaned and he cupped his tilted helm into his only useful servo, and he moaned in pain as he sucked air through his denta, "You looked me over... No?"

Ratchet would have knocked himself in the helm, he didn't. He didn't check Drift over fully, he had done a brief scan to get ready if Drift would wake up at any second.

Ratchet pulled Drift's face to his and he scanned Drift over again. How could he have forgotten to check over every - wait... nothing was wrong with Drift. Everything was in working and perfectly organized fashion, except Drift's mobility relays. So that means, Drift turned the tables.

Before Ratchet could pull away or even open his mouth to say something, Drift grabbed at Ratchet's wrist while Ratchet's still had a hold of it and he used the free one to drag Ratchet's face and shoulder to him, kissing Ratchet passionately. Ratchet was shocked, he was lip-locking with the drunken samurai and he wasn't pulling away, no matter how much dismay he was bringing upon himself every second he continued.

Drift trailed his lips over Ratchet's limp ones and he breathed on them, grinning as he kissed Ratchet's cheek, "Your weakness..."

Ratchet scoffed at the samurai, "And that would be?"

Drift chuckled and trailed kisses down his neck and used his lips to tease the two main wires on Ratchet's throat, "If I told you, I wouldn't be able to use it anymore..."

Ratchet looked down at him, only to find Drift's finals where keeping his head up, "Why don't you tell me so I can fix it, you know, to protect myself in the future?"

Drift didn't say anything as he pressed his shoulders up against Ratchet's own, they were so close together that anyone would have guessed their top halves were magnetized together. Drift tugged at Ratchet's arm and he kissed the glass pane chests insignia gently, like he was probing at Ratchet's spark. No, Drift wanted him to get on the berth, on him.

Drift started to tug harder, actually making Ratchet rock a little with each pull of his arm.

Up. Up.

Ratchet could practically read Drift's mind as Drift tried to pull him on top. Ratchet didn't know what other to do but to get on Drift as he wished, and that's what he did. Ratchet hooked a leg on the berth and put it on the side of Drift's hip, hoisting himself on the berth, he put his knees on either side of Drift's waist and sat there. Drift grinned up at him and he chuckled as he looked up at Ratchet with dull colored optics and he rested his servos on Ratchet's outer thighs, digits digging into the hip armor.

"Pleasure me... or ride me?" Drift said and he made a face when he paused for a second. Flinching at random reflexes maybe.

Ratchet felt a little upset at that. When was the last time he fragged anyone? About three million years ago when Pharma and he were stationed at the same hospital, he and Pharma had interfaced with each other. And can you believe it, Pharma topped while they were in a relationship. Almost every time. He couldn't really remember what to exactly do when topping. Okay, he knew but he didn't know if he could do it without being too fast or making something unpleasant. Like pain. All he could remember is his wrestles with Pharma being very playful and even if he always lost or some times wan someway, he was always below Pharma (maybe not a handful of times).

Point was, he wasn't sure he could do anything but take it.

"I'll ride you," Ratchet said but he stated something before Drift got grabby-digits, "But when I say stop, you stop."

Drift grinned as he ran his servos up and down Ratchet's legs, "Safe word: stop... Got it."

Ratchet shivered as Drift's rubbing left the trails of heat on his (suddenly realized) cold frame. He felt Drift trail digits inside his armor, the black digits practically trying to unconditionally strip him of his armor. He felt Drift pull his digits free when they found nothing else they haven't explored and they played with the circular ring under his ambulance head, tracing rims that he didn't even know where sensitive. He wiggled as Drift dipped his very exploratory digits under his ambulance transformation seems and they tried to explore his upper half since they finished the lower tour.

Drift trailed his digits down when he felt Ratchet shake a little as Drift tried to pull the armor down.

"Wonder what you look like... without heavy armor," Drift said and kissed the white stomach, "Pretty... most definitely."

Ratchet looked down at the samurai, "Your not going to see that... now just fragging get on with it before I decide this isn't worth my time and I just knock you out."

Drift smirked and he held onto Ratchet's waist and pulled him down while he pulled Ratchet's top half down to rest on his elbows and knees. Ratchet looked into the TiC's optics before he said anything else, keeping an optic for anything strange. Ratchet say nothing change.

Drift moved his servos below Ratchet's hip lining and he made both the servos inch together as they met over the older mechs panel. Ratchet hummed as he moved his bottom to press into Drift's servos and he has rewarded with Drift kissing him happily again. Drift started to dig into the panels seems where it would snap open any second and he just wiggled his digits tips into the tiny gap. Ratchet groaned as he felt a little pleasure flow through him, Drift's digits actually scrapping the seems protoform nodes and he looked down a little to see if Drift was doing anything.

Nope. Nothing was happening other then a surprisingly present spike hiding from him behind his own aft. Ratchet didn't even know how he could open his panel without him hearing it but he did...

It was there wasn't it?

"I don't know either," Drift practically read his thoughts, "I just have the skill..."

"From the Dead End," Ratchet regretted bringing it up, but it seemed Drift expected it.

Drift just shrugged sluggish and he continued with his assault on the panels cover. Ratchet moaned as Drift actually hooked his index digit inside and it propped it open for the other digits and Ratchet felt the first gush of cold air leak into his panel and he felt his valve squeeze as unwelcome cool entered it.

"Open willingly...?" Drift said and kissed what was in front of him, Ratchet's audio bump on his helm.

Ratchet looked down further as he saw four little black digits in between the panels closed and open state. It looked like Drift was trying to claw the insides of his panel but at the same time, it looked like he was latching onto his aft. He slid the panel a little more open to see if Drift toke that as an opening and he did, Drift buried his digits as far as they could go with the extra space and he felt the cold surface of the digit touch his heated metal interface. He moaned and slowly opened the rest, when it finished opening, it sealed the cover away with a CLICK.

Drift practically attacked the sensitive metal when the click sounded. Drift pinched the soft mesh of the lips of the valve and he traced the edges, mixing his cold with Ratchet's heat. Ratchet moaned as he felt the first bit of lubricant start to build on the walls of his valve and flow down. Drift kissed Ratchet's red audio stump again as he traced a seem that lead into the dark but warm cavern. Ratchet almost bucked as he felt something cold (that turned warm automatically because of the heat surrounding it) enter his not lubricated enough valve slowly and gently. It was after Drift started to rake his digit, and was slowly adding another, that Ratchet felt the gush of filling lubricant just plop out of nowhere and coat his entire mesh and Drift's knuckle joint. Drift practically chuckled as he licked his lips.

No words were exchanged as Ratchet felt Drift pump in and out the two digits, adding a third. Ratchet let out breathy moans as he felt his valve leak just a little more, with more and more coming after that.

The three waxed up appendages pumped in and out of the older mechs underused valve and Drift practically shoved them all the way to the knuckle into his partner. Ratchet felt the delicate lips space out and spread as the knuckle came in between them and he moaned as the little knots of the knuckle ran over the outer sensors of the mesh.

"Ride me now...?" Drift said as he pulled his digits out of the valve slowly to drag over the nodes purposefully teasily.

Ratchet would have gotten to him knees and slam himself on the digits but he figured that would have made Drift All the more anxious to get them out of him and to put something else inside him. Ratchet moaned as he felt Drift push the spike against his aft, not his port, just up to where Ratchet could feel the heated spike.

Drift started to run his lubricated digits over the tip of the spike and over Ratchet's aft when he let his digit slip off the spikes sides, "Fit nicely..."

Ratchet felt Drift start to begin and be looked into Drift's optics as he began, "Yes, you will..."

Drift smiled up at him as he pressed in slowly, the soft jerk sinking in just as slow as the time passed. Ratchet felt his valve slowly expand to the girth of his partner and he moaned as he felt the delicate walls and his mesh expand around the shaft to greater proportions then anything Pharma had given him. Pharma was a skinny mech, so he'd have a skinny spike. Drift... oh, Primus, if anyone had compared Drift's thighs to his spike to him a day before this, he would have said the mech needed Rung's helm but now... He couldn't agree anymore with that accusation.

When Ratchet got his bearings again, his spinal strut was gelatinous rods and his valve felt like Drift had sank all the way to the panel into him. And he was right, he felt Drift's panel up against his own, foreign heat melting into his own.

"Stop...?" Drift questioned breathlessly as he felt Ratchet look at him after so long.

Ratchet shook him head as his face felt just as hot as his and Drift's joined interfaces... it was hard to think of anything but the thickness that was so foreign to his forgetful port. Ratchet had forgotten how good a spike felt, especially one bigger then he's had in so long...

Ratchet felt himself loosen around the black, silver and orange neon lighted spike and he felt Drift start to thrust up into him. Ratchet bit his lower lip as he moaned. He valves lips were being folded when Drift's panel left and meet again with his own. Ratchet groaned as he found Drift soon thrusting medium-slow into him and he moans as he felt lubricant making the passage for the spike easier. Drift moaned as well and he grabbed at Ratchet's thighs and cupped them apart to get robin to thrust into him.

No words this time... just the wet sounds and the metal scrapping noise of their coupling, those were the only full sounds that translated to them they were together.

They were doing it, doing something that would make him one... even for just tonight...

Ratchet felt the shaft swing in and out of him as he leaned over the thrusting mech to kiss him, Drift eagerly kissed him back as he aimed to pound into Ratchet's valve walls. Ratchet almost broke the kiss if it hadn't been for Drift dragging him back again by his shoulders, it was wonderful! Oh, so wonderful! Nodes and sensors were being dragged against and he couldn't help himself from moaning continuously and louder each time Drift thrust just the tiniest but faster.

Drift began to practically piston his hips up into Ratchet's as he moaned huskly into Ratchet's neck while Ratchet cried out his pleasure. Ratchet's vocalizer seemed that every time Drift hit his ceiling nodes, he grew louder and louder as Drift went faster and faster. It was hard for Drift to do anything but continue his interface as he felt the tugging in his tanks grow unbearable.

"Drift! Uh-Ah! S-slag...!" Ratchet cried as he moved against Drift's almost breaking thrusts, Ratchet could feel the most definite dents in his aft and thighs that he'll need to buff out tomorrow.

Drift would have said something to the medic had it not been for the fact he hit the most buried nodes that sent him and Ratchet into a blind white haze of outright pleasure. Drift felt Ratchet go first, screaming his designation as he let his valve gush lubricant, staining the red and white thighs with a clear purple sticky liquid. Drift was next, after Ratchet's valve clenched like a vise, he cried out a slur between "Frag!" and Ratchet's designation as he pushed out any lubricant that lingered with his own white blue transfluid. Drift slumped completely against the table as he felt Ratchet slip from his spike with a delicious wet POP. Drift wanted to reach up to the medic but he found himself falling into blackness...

Love you, Ratch...

Chapter Text

Ratchet all but flipped his lid when he came down from his high.

He had already put his and Drift's interface equipment back in their armor and he almost cursed everything when he could feel the ends of his codpiece not snap correctly. And he still felt a draft on his valve. He looked down at the unconscious samurai and groaned in annoyance as he saw the drunken mess was recharging shamelessly, soundly. He grabbed a thermal blanket from the side of the berth and drapped it over the cold offline frame.

He almost strangled the unconscious TiC when he moaned in his recharge, and it was his name.

Please, don't remember this, Ratchet thought as he looked down to make sure of something.

Yeah, he had Drift's authentic red paint, white paint, and fluids on his crotch plating.

He sighed as he went to a desk with a medical towel on it, half the towel was full of supplies like scalpels, laser knives, regular surgery knives, and springs. He pulled it from under the supplies gently and toke a hold of it in his servos, waded it up a little, and sighed. He wiped at his glass were some of Drift's kisses left smudge marks and he trailed the towel down to where the evidence laid on his frame. He felt the powdered surface of the towel clean the abstract paint from his scratches and fill them in with the graceful filling property.

He was done with the front of his frame, all he needed to get was his backside and thighs to be evidence free. Then he heard a knocking on his door. He frowned at the white metal door and waited to see if the 'bot would leave if he didn't open the door.

Who'd come to see them at this time of night cycle? First Aid and Ambulon were most definitely at either the bar or in their quarters taking a needed recharge.

The knocking came again and he groaned as this time, it had a rhythm to it. It was a happy knocking that made it seem like the person outside could wait for hours until you open the door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Pause. Knock, knock.

Ratchet would have ignored the person outside if it hadn't been for the thought of what may have happened at the bar. Was it a bar fight injury? Did some start spewing engex because of consumption failure?

He just couldn't ignore someone banging continuously on his door, it would mean he was an even worse doctor then he believed he was.

Ratchet looked down at himself and noticed his thighs were still coated in Drift's paint. He didn't have time to buff them if he went to answer the door, so he ran the rag done there to clean the fluids from his body and hid the rag on a cart not far from Drift. He walked to the door briskly, passing Drift, and went to open the medical bays doors.

There, stood the chatter box bar owner himself, Swerve.

"Hey... um, Doc' bot!" Swerve said and looked up at the taller red and white bot, his visor turned downwards in a sorry expression.

"Swerve," Ratchet said his name with no natural ill will, "Do you need a medic in the bar? Did Whirl try to kiss anyone and instead head butt someone?"

"No, I'm just here to..." Swerve paused and sighed, "I'm here to apologize... about tonight."

"What for?" Ratchet said And tried not to snap at the minibot, "No one got hurt, maybe Red Alert will need therapy again from Rung, but as far as I know, everyone was fine."

"It's not about injuries or anyone else but you..." Swerve gulped, "And Drift."

Ratchet looked down at the red and white bar mech and he let Swerve step pass him into the med bay, the doors closing automatically because the presence outside moved inside. Swerve toke a look around for a second, and Ratchet watched as the minibot toke a deep intake.

"I'm sorry I let anyone choose you guys for the contest," Swerve said and he rubbed his right servo over his left arm, "It was just... just..."

Ratchet sighed, "Swerve, there was no hard feelings. People recommend, you serve. That's how your job works. Mine is slightly similar to yours though; someone gets hurt, I fix them. We both are simple service givers, we follow our job description to a point."

Swerve just looked around miserably. Ratchet followed his gaze to Drift and he heard Swerve chuckle, "Did you two-?"

"No."

Swerve went scavenging in his subspace for something and brought out a stack of cards. Some pinkish, some a blue-grey. Ratchet toke them and he looked at the first slip. It had the words "Ratchet and Drift" in neocybrex.

"It's the names of everyone someone recommend you kiss," Swerve said, "Pink for you, dull blue for Drift."

Oh Primus. The pink stake was double the size of the blue.

"I... see people toke me as a favorite tonight," Ratchet said as he ran a thumb digit over the fine print of Drift's name.

"Yeah, but only one can get kissed tonight," Swerve rubbed the back of his helm, "The tallying at the bottom is how many people choose you. And I'll tell you right now to save time... 73% of the ship's population choose you and Drift."

Ratchet went flipping through the cards as Swerve watched him flip.

"Ratchet and Rung" in what looked like human cursive.

"Perceptor n' Ratchet" sloppily.

"Sunstreaker/Ratchet" in bold thick handwriting.

"Ultra Magnus 3 Ratchet" Cleanly but too thin here and there. Ratchet cringed up, how many people was he paired with?

"Ratchet First Aid" He wasn't even there!

"Ratchet and Red A!" Good thing Blaster kissed him!

"Ratchet - Brainstorm"

"Cyclonus ~ Ratchet"

"Tailgate / Ratchet"

And the worst of all! "Ratchet 4 Rodimus"

Ratchet looked at the minibot and he blinked a bit at him. He had only read about one third of the cards here, and yet he was very upset just with this beginning bunch.

"Yeah... I wouldn't read all them either," Swerve said and he frowned, "And I have to admit... I was... what? Disappointed, maybe, at the crew. I..."

Ratchet sighed, "Your job Swerve, just like everyone else's. Serve to please."

Swerve toke the cards from Ratchet and Ratchet gave them back nicely. He didn't even want to read the rest or Drift's cards either.

"Well, the party is still going and I need to go serve," Swerve said and walked to the door, turning to Ratchet, "Oh, and, um..."

Swerve pulled a white slip from the stack and placed it on the closest cart, walking out the door, "I hope you don't get upset..."

Swerve left at that, the automatic doors locking afterwards.

Ratchet watched the mech leave and he slowly walked forward, letting his pede carry him closer to the cart by the consoles and doors. He put his servo on the slip, letting his digits brush the smooth LED slip and he picked it up, reading:

'High Grade + silver Syk engex mixed (shaken)

Price: blank

Order to: Drift

Order served: Swerve

Ordered by: ...'

Ratchet almost clapped a servo over his mouth, he almost didn't say a word if the last name hadn't shocked him.

"... Ultra Magnus. How?"