Archive of Our Own

Optimus has been acting strange since the team's last mission.

This particular one required him to visit a whole other planet: Cybertron. There had been... disagreements about who should go since it was such a risky mission. They had to use the Decepticon space bridge to get there while also defending it to ensure whoever went in could get back to Earth.

Ratchet had gone on and on about how the Decepticons would absolutely try and follow Optimus through to trap him. "And what if they take you prisoner, Optimus? Or worse, kill you?!" he had yelled. "What then?"

The others had agreed, although not as passionately as Ratchet who, despite his mask of indifference towards the lives of the human children, could not shield his deep care for Optimus.

In the end, Optimus convinced the others that it was best that he go and the others stay behind to guard the space bridge. As usual, Ratchet had his post at base, manning the ground bridge. The children, Fowler, and I sat by anxiously waiting for news from any of the 'bots. As the human adults in the situation, Fowler and I tried to put on a brave face... but even we couldn't hide our underlying nerves.

And also in the end, Optimus and the others were fine, much to everybody's relief. No injuries guarding the space bridge, and a surprisingly smooth trip around Cybertron. And after Ratchet thoroughly inspected Optimus, he was given the all-clear.

Except...

He has been acting a bit weird, and any weird is actually really weird for Optimus given his usually unwavering control over his character.

First of all, he hasn't been letting me touch him much. My first reaction to his polite rejection of my company on his shoulder was one of understanding; sometimes people need breaks, you know? His reason for it was the mounting need for his utmost concentration towards the Autobot missions; even when he isn't in danger on the field, he still has a lot to do at base. I accepted this and backed off, instead settling on the "bed" (which is more like an incredibly large table to me) he uses, observing his huge frame work from behind.

But then Optimus also stopped going on his occasional late-night drives with me. It's our way of relaxing from the stress of the war while also bonding, and he said he needed to use that time to either rest or focus even more on the war. I, as his partner, had become confused, reminding him that even he needs to take his mind off it every now and then. Still, he was politely adamant, and I let him do his thing.

And finally, just yesterday, he asked me to stay in the main part of the base--the space where everyone else hangs out--instead of his room until he was "available."

This floored me.

Does he even want to be together anymore? I keep asking myself, now from the old, brown couch the kids use. Did I do something wrong?

But it feels weird to ask something like that to Optimus. He has so much stress on him, I shouldn't add more. Except... will there ever even be a good time to ask? With how the war seems to be amping up in intensity, it could be coming to a close soon. The others are acting normally about it, strangely enough. I haven't asked since the last thing Bee, Bulkhead, and Arcee want to think about outside of battle is the war.

It's Sunday, and the kids have just left since parents seem to be pretty strict about bedtime at the beginning of a school week. Their three bots are gone somewhere... Optimus is in his room, as usual... and Ratchet is here with me.

Maybe I could ask him.

"Ratchet?" I speak up, rising from the couch.

Ratchet's endless typing on his Cybertronian computer comes to an abrupt halt as I appear. "Yes? Did you want to go home now?"

My eyes blankly stare at the metal beneath me. I'm not really sure how to word this without making it sound like I'm some thirteen year old oblivious to the idea of communicating with their partner. "I had a... question."

"Yes, Optimus is in his room."

I shake my head. "No, no. It's not that. I, uh..." My lips purse. "What's been going on with him lately?"

A look of confusion flashes over his face. Damn. If Ratchet doesn't know about it, then that means it must be really bad. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that the war seems to be stressing him out more than usual, you know? Like, he keeps telling me he has more and more to do. Did something happen after the mission?"

His visible confusion seems to only deepen. "No. If anything, the mission has taken more off of his shoulders. Just last night, he went on a drive longer than usual--three hours, I believe. Did you not go with him?"

By God, he wants to break up with me.

I stare at Ratchet for a moment, trying to think of any kind of response except for the overwhelming thoughts in my head. "...Yeah, I did. I guess I'm just imagining it then. Thanks, Ratchet."

I don't wait for a response. I turn, heading for the stairs, and go down them as calmly and normally as possible because there is absolutely nothing wrong or off about my relationship with Optimus, he totally does not want to end it and I definitely went on that late-night drive with him last night. There is only one destination: Optimus' room. I deserve answers.

I'm not sure whether I want to walk slowly or quickly as I make my way there. It's never good to start a conversation like this when you're still in the throes of emotion; that's a good way to start a heated argument instead of an emotional but calm discussion. Still, the idea of storming into his room and demanding to know why he's been avoiding me is convincing.

I have no idea what I've done wrong, and I have no idea why Optimus hasn't said anything given he's usually very good at communication. Maybe this is all because he hasn't been in a relationship in millions of years. His last partner died in the war.

When I reach the human-sized door, I pause, taking a deep breath. I need answers, not arguments, I tell myself.

I open it to see the faint green light of his Cybertronian computer just barely illuminating Optimus' frame resting on his metal bed.

Asleep? But he rarely sleeps. I step inside. Maybe something really is wrong with him.

"Optimus?" I say, the door closing behind me with a click.

Bright, blue eyes suddenly appear as Optimus' head turns towards me. So, he isn't asleep.

My name comes out of his mouth in an indescribable tone as I slowly walk towards him. "You cannot be here right now."

"Seems I can't be here at anytime, actually." The one hand visible to me is clenching the side of the bed, and my eyebrows furrow. "You need to tell me what's wrong."

"There is nothing wrong," he responds, but his voice is strained.

"Clearly, there is." And then I sigh. This is one of the games I hate. What's wrong? There's nothing wrong. Obviously, something's wrong. Nothing is wrong. He hasn't done this to me before, and I don't like that he's doing it now. "Can you just be honest with me? Do you want to be with me or not? You've been avoiding me all week. First you stopped letting me touch you--not even a kiss on the cheek--and then you stopped going with me on drives. Nowadays you won't even let me in here. And just a few minutes ago, I found out from Ratchet that you aren't even busy."

My hands gesture vaguely in the air as I stare at him. I don't know if he can even see me that well; the computer is too high to shine much light on me. His eyes followed my voice when I came in, though, and now they follow my footsteps as I climb the ladder that rests next to where his head lays. My breath is the only sound until I reach the top, coming face-to-face with my supposed boyfriend.

"Did I do something wrong, or are you just not interested in me anymore? I need to know, Optimus."

My eyes strain in the dark. His face looks... stressed, for once. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips are pursed, and his eyes are filled with what must be sadness. Visible stress on Optimus' face means this absolutely cannot be good. I really am about to get broken up with.

"You did not do anything wrong," he says, "but, please, I cannot... handle this right now."

"Are you ill?" I step forward, placing a hand on his cheek, and flinch. He's warm, almost hot. It's like placing my hand on a heating pad. "Oh, Christ! Do you want me to get Ratchet?"

"No. I just..."

His eyes squint as if in pain as I come closer, lowering to my knees. "What are you feeling?" I ask, voice gentle.

There is silence for a few moments, and for a moment I think he might not tell me, but then he does. "The mission on Cybertron." A pause. "There was a gas there, one which most Cybertronians avoid. It is not harmful, but it is... persuasive."

"Persuasive?"

"Yes."

I blink. I don't think Earth has anything like this, right? Except for weed, if that counts. I guess it can persuade a person to eat everything in their pantry. "Persuasive how?"

There's a look of Don't make me say it on his face, but I'm still worried.

"It is a sort of sexual persuasion."

My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.

And then I start laughing.

His face grows warmer as my disbelief pours out of me. "And here I thought you wanted to break up with me!" I exclaim, shaking my head. I clear my throat. "So, you are turned on? Why didn't you tell me?"

He looks away. "It has been a while."

The same goes for me.

We've been with each other for months, though we haven't had sex. To be honest, I never knew Cybertronians could even have sex. I never heard of it from anyone, although I suppose it makes sense; why would they start randomly talking about it, especially given the children are around most of the time?

And then also... can a human and a Cybertronian have sex with each other? The size difference, wowie. I'm not sure--no, I'm absolutely sure he can't--if he could fit in me. And that's just assuming his species' genitalia looks like human genitalia.

"It's been a while for me, too," I admit, fidgeting with my fingers. "What is your Cybertronian genitalia like? Does it match humans?"

"Yes, but I do not believe I will... fit."

I smile.

"You don't have to."

Optimus' eyes widen a little as I lean forward, planting a gentle kiss to his cheek. He is warm, so warm. I move across his face, kissing the corner of his mouth, then pressing my lips to his.

My breath stutters as his does. We can't kiss properly, not when his head is, like, five times the size of my own, but that doesn't stop me. Optimus' eyes close as I kiss him over and over again, licking my lips between each. His eyebrows tighten together more and more.

"Please," he finally whispers, but I don't stop, kissing him again. "I do not believe I will be able to contain myself much longer."

"I don't want you to contain yourself."

God, even just saying that gets me excited. I run my tongue along his lips, planting one last kiss on his cheek before I move down to nibble on the cords of his neck. They are thick and tough, full of wires and energon and who knows what else. They're alive, just as he is, and I love that. My teeth press gently into them, and Optimus shudders, making a deep and quiet groan.

It has been a while since I've had sex, but I can't say I haven't thought of doing it with him before because I have. Many, many times I've imagined what it might be like. What it'd be like if he had a dick, or even nothing at all. I could do with either. In fact, I can't even count the number of nights I've laid under my blanket at home alone, touching myself while shamefully imagining what his moans would sound like. How deep they must be, how gravelly. And here I am being proven right.

"Do you remember," I say, pausing, "when you were climbing up that mountain to get to Megatron after fighting all those zombie soldiers?"

He blinks. "Yes."

"The noises you made then were so attractive."

The grunts and groans I had heard from his comlink in that moment... I slide my hand up my thigh, sighing as my fingers press against my clit through my pants. I rub there slowly, face warming as Optimus' gaze switches from my face to my hand.

"You turn me on so much, Optimus."

Optimus is speechless. I'm sure he doesn't remember the sounds he made; I'm sure he didn't even acknowledge them in the moment in his relentless persistence to stop Megatron from being Megatron. But I remember, and those noises have worked their way into every one of my daydreams.

My lips latch onto another wire on his throat, sucking with more force than before. A shuddery groan strains from deep inside him, his eyes squeezing shut. I love, love, love him as I grind against the tips of my fingers. I can only imagine how hard and big he is. Can only imagine how his dick will look and feel against my small hands, how just one droplet of precum will be like a bucket-full to me. God. I give one last lick to his neck.

"Pull it out," I say, standing up. "I want to see all of you."

I plant my hands on the windows of his chest to push myself up on them, and then I crawl on all fours to his stomach. Sitting there, knees splayed apart, I look back at him, nodding as his parted lips and nearly begging eyes watch me.

There is a click and hiss of metal as the plates of his groin separate. Is it going to be blue and red like him? Or will it be silver gray like parts of his chest and legs? I shouldn't bother guessing; I'll be happy with anything, anyway. But still, finally getting to see this part of him after months of not even knowing if we could have sex... The excitement that burns in my stomach is overwhelming.

A tall and silver metal dick springs out from between the separated plates with a force that makes me jolt. "Oh, wow."

A large droplet of translucent precum is already pooling over the top, about to spill. His dick is, in fact, larger than me. A bit larger than one of Optimus' hands, actually. I realize then that I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with it. I want to make Optimus cum--honestly, I want him to beg--but will my small body be good enough? Strong enough?

"Is it to your liking?" Optimus' cautious voice speaks up from behind me.

I stand, my mouth opening and closing in disbelief. Good enough? Turning to look at him, there is wariness in his eyes. A nervousness that I haven't seen since witnessing him revert back to Orion Pax that one time.

It's not like becoming a Prime suddenly stripped him of that identity; it was the war that molded and changed him over time. Yet there are still parts of that older version of him still around--things untouched by battle. I can't imagine how long its been since he has had sex or even touched himself. From Orion came Optimus, and within Optimus there is still Orion. It is our past selves that have helped us become who we are today.

"To my liking?" I damn near scoff. "This is more than that, Optimus. You are the most handsome being I've ever laid eyes upon."

He processes this, his face frozen, and I can't help the joyous smile that rises to my face. God, to my liking? "I mean it," I affirm with a nod. "And I'll show you how much I mean it."

I turn back to his hard-on, observing it wavering and twitching a little towards the ceiling, and place one hand on it. It's moist on its own, which surprises me. That's probably to help with the need for lubrication. He is warm and firm as I press into him, my mouth watering.

"Can you... hold it down? I want to try something."

One of his hands remains clenching the side of the bed while the other comes up to carefully press his dick to his stomach. I undo my pants, pushing off my shoes with each foot as I go and kicking them over the bed and onto the floor. My face warms as I watch Optimus watching me. There is no judgment in his eyes, only wonder. My pants drop, my socks are slipped off, and I hook my thumbs under the top of my underwear.

I take in a deep breath. It has definitely been a while for me, too. I know I can trust him not to judge what he sees--I don't think I've ever witnessed him judging humanity at all, except for Silas and his disturbing crew. Still, adrenaline rushes through my veins as I push my underwear down, stepping out of it.

Standing beside his erection, I look into his eyes. My hands sit on my hips, then fall to my sides, then go behind my back to clasp each other. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do or pose. Do I look silly, standing here next to his dick and being twenty times smaller than his whole body?

"And what about you?" I ask, all too aware of the warm air of the base brushing against my mound. "Do you like what you see?"

There is no hesitation from Optimus. "You are beautiful."

Now my cheeks really do burn. I smile, looking down at the ground. Optimus' other hand grazes my back at first before becoming more confident, slowly rubbing up and down my legs and ass, dipping into the curve of my back. I don't feel ready yet to take off my shirt and get fully naked in front of him, but this is a really good start.

"Thank you," I say, pushing myself up onto his dick.

Balancing as I go, I crawl over to beneath the head and straddle the space there. My clit presses against him, my entrance yearns for touch. Instead, I lean over, opening my mouth and licking a long, firm stripe up the head of his dick, stopping right below the slit.

He tastes like metal and vegetable oil as I keep licking at him, using my hands to grope and squeeze at the sides of his head. My hands move up and down with what I hope is a steady speed to him, and Optimus groans softly. It's interesting how similar his dick is to a human's despite the major differences in biology. He is completely made of various metals, energon, and other things to protect him, yet this part of his body feels almost fleshy, albeit silkier and firmer.

I stretch forward, coating my tongue in as much saliva as possible before letting it run through the slit of his cock. I squeak and bounce a little as Optimus's hips jolt and a stuttering moan erupts from him. Oh, he likes that.

My tongue licks there again and again, lapping up thick, salty precum as it goes. I can't help the pride and joy that blooms in my chest from the sight of Optimus struggling to keep himself under control. The normally composed Autobot leader is slowly unravelling before me, and that makes me hungry for him. His hips shudder under me and, looking up, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Oh, Optimus," I sigh. How I love the amount of pleasure I'm giving him right now.

My own hips twitch then, and I slowly push them back and forth. My clit grinds into him, sending waves of tingly pleasure throughout me. Already I can feel it isn't enough, though; my body is eager and begs me for more. God, I want him inside of me. I want him to fill me until I can't stretch anymore, until I'm crying and begging.

Optimus' groans grow louder, sliding more and more easily from his throat. They rumble the air as the hand holding his dick down moves up in down. He squeezes at the base, dragging his hand up towards my feet, and then releases to glide back down and squeeze there again. All the while I lap at the slit of his dick, occasionally going up to open-mouth kiss the edges.

Suddenly, he moans my name, sending a jolt of electricity through my spine. My head snaps up to look at him, and there his eyes are, bright in the dark and looking straight at me. His gaze is hypnotizing on its own. I can't help but get lost in his eyes until...

The fingers of his free hand grab my sides with a carefulness only he could possess in this state. It makes my heart melt a little. Still, I jump a bit from the surprise of it, twisting to look at what he's doing.

"This will be good for the both of us," Optimus says, voice heavy. I trust him, but I'm still confused.

He then starts sliding me back and forth up and down the length of his dick, tilting me forward as he does so that my clit presses firmly against him with each grind up. I gasp, and my hands fly forward to try and steady myself.

Oh God, it feels so good. Electric pleasure builds in my groin, hot and desperate. "Optimus," I whine, meeting his watchful eyes.

And he really is watching. Optimus gazes at me as he grinds me up and down his length, his other hand squeezing repeatedly at the base of his cock. His eyebrows are pressed tightly together in an almost begging expression. He looks so good like this, so handsome and hot. Though, he always looks good. Always.

Optimus especially sounds good. Each pant and groan from him sends a ravenous hunger through me for more. My whimpers and moans only seem to encourage him as he begins to move me faster, my head drifting back and forth a bit with each push and pull.

Beneath the pleasure, there is also gratitude. The fact that he trusts me to see him in such a vulnerable state tugs at my heart. I feel like a true partner getting to see this side of him. He always keeps his feelings inside, his face neutral, his problems masked. He's always there for everyone else, and even though I'm his partner, he's always trying to be a stoic leader and rock for me, too. So seeing him like this--moans spilling out of him as his walls tumble down--warms my soul and makes me giddy. Somehow, it even turns me on more.

"I can't wait to see you cum," I tell him, squeezing my legs as tightly and as far as they can go around his dick. His expression turns even more desperate as a result, and I smile a little.

"Almost," he says in a strained, broken voice. "Almost."

I'm almost there, too. Looking down, I watch as my clit is pushed and rubbed up against his cock repeatedly. "Yes," I moan, "yes. Give it to me, Optimus."

Optimus moves me even faster, his fingers digging into my sides. There's some pain, and I can already imagine the bruises, but it doesn't at all hinder the growing pleasure. It begins to overwhelm me as Optimus pants.

"Please, I'm close." I tilt my hips forward more, trying to shift from side to side at the same time, sending waves of pleasure through my clit.

The tension builds and builds, and my vision tunnels as I grind back and forth on my own while Optimus presses me up and down the length of his cock. I whimper and whine, a series of Please, please, please stumbling from my mouth until the tension snaps, and I cum.

"Fuck, Optimus!" I cry out, my body hunching forward as I twitch with each shockwave of pleasure. "Ah... mm... Optimus..."

I'm jerked upward then as Optimus lets out a deep groan, his hips snapping upward. Cum shoots out of his dick, and it pulses under me as the thick, translucent-white fluid splatters onto his stomach. The sound of grinding metal squeaks in the air as his head pushes back against the bed, revealing the entire underside of his jaw.

Oh, perfect, I think as I watch. This is the most beautiful sight I've seen since I first met him, and the memories of that run through my mind like film tape. His large footsteps sending rumbles up my own legs as he walked towards me, looking up to see his blue eyes peering down at me. The absolute size of him. All I could think on the day that I met him was how handsome he was.

And that is all I can think of yet again as his chest heaves up and his back arches. He is vulnerable and handsome.

A sigh of contentment lowers Optimus' chest back down, and his now calm yet tired eyes meet mine.

"You're really good at this, you know," I say.

"As are you," he replies, lifting me from his chest gently and setting me down on his windows. I promptly collapse to my knees. "Was it too much?"

I smile at his concern. "Not at all. It was perfect."

But then it hits me: the gas. Optimus becoming turned on was less of a choice and more of a... incident, an illness that needed to be cured. And while yes, I have daydreamed for months and months of him fucking me until I'm fall to the floor just like this, I don't know if he has done something similar. I don't expect him to because of the war and how much time it usually eats up, but still. Has he at least thought about it?

"Are you certain?"

His voice tears me from my thoughts, and I realize I've been blankly staring down at his windows. "Huh?"

"You appear unsure."

I look at him, and he looks at me. His guard is visibly down with his soft and tired face. I don't want to ruin what just happened or even taint it in any way, and I definitely don't want to push him away after he showed such a vulnerable part of himself. But at the same time, I know this whole thought process will just keep coming up again if I don't ask about it.

"It's just..." I begin, trying to find the right words. "The only reason why we did this today is because of the gas on Cybertron. And so I'm just wondering, are you really attracted to me, or were you only turned on by the gas?"

Optimus places his hand around my back then, his fingers curling around me gently. His eyes don't change to show any hurt as he ponders my question.

"We may not be the same species, but you are attractive to me," he says, speaking my name softly at the end of his words. "While today was a result of the gas I encountered, I have thought of this scenario before. It has simply been so long since I've done this that it did not fully take my mind."

I nod slowly. "It's been a couple million years, right?"

"Yes. It happened only once during the war, sometime before my previous partner died."

Optimus looks at the wall as he says that, eyes downcast. It's a hard subject for him. The only other time we talked about his last partner was at the beginning of our relationship when he admitted he might be a bit rusty towards romance. "I was... unable to stop it," he had said when describing her death. He hadn't looked at me then, either; even though it's been millions of years, there is still lingering guilt in him. I can see it.

"I'm sorry. About your partner, I mean."

His eyes switch back to me, his loose grip closing in more. "I have you now, and you have reawakened these parts of me. I am thankful for that." There is a pause, and a small, rare smile lifts on his face. "And now that my trip to Cybertron has given me more time, I know how I will spend it."