Actions

Work Header

Postremo

Chapter Text

Drift was looking at him funny.

With a dismissive eyeroll, Ratchet turned his back on his worried conjunx. “It’s likely a virus, something I caught at the last stop over.” When he heard no retreating steps, the medic turned back to find Drift still watching him. “Drift. It’s nothing. I guarantee it.”

“I’d still feel better if First Aid took a look at you. Purging for three cycles-“

“Could be some illness. Now, I have things to do. I’m already late to check up on Swiftblaze and Rodimus. After I’m finished there, I’ll meet you at the hab.”

The swordsmech gave his mate a considering look before moving a little closer. The annoyance in Ratchet’s field dissolved as the white speedster leaned in and gave his heated cheek a soft kiss. When Drift pulled away, he was smirking. “Just get back soon. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? Our anniversary isn’t for two more cycles.” Ratchet didn’t miss the excitement that echoed through his handsome mate’s field.

When Drift came close enough to rub their chest plating together, the former CMO was reminded of how touchy-feely the swordsmech had been lately. Drift purred in his throat, his optics darting to the medbay door. “True. But I don’t need a reason to show my conjunx how much I love him, do I?”

Ratchet swatted at the other mech, making Drift dance away with a giggle. As he did, the medic couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on the swordsmech’s swaying hips. Just the sight of his mate’s curvy thighs sent a tingle through his lower abdomen-

The ambulance shook his helm impatiently. The medbay was no place for such thoughts. “I’ll join you at the hab shortly. Try not to get into too much trouble until then.”

“Trouble?” Drift feigned insult as he backed away toward the medbay door, a hand pressed to his chest plates. “Me? Oh, Ratch, I think you’re the one who’ll be in trouble.”

“Is that so?”

The swordsmech gave him a crooked grin, flashing his denta. He knew that the sight of his fangs usually got Ratchet going. Drift peeked coquettishly back at his mate as he pulled the door closed behind himself. “Oh, yes. I have something special planned just for you.”

The old medic narrowed his optics, allowing his mouth to turn upward a little. “Do I get a hint?”

“Your hands.”

The speedster departed, winking at Ratchet before pulling the door closed with a click.

The former CMO flexed his hands, his processor working as he wondered what kind of pleasures Drift had planned for them. It had been far too long since his hands had been given some proper attention. The thought of Drift’s mouth on his fingers-

Ratchet felt heat pool in his belly at the thought. But instead of his spike warming under his modesty panel, the medic felt something else entirely. He froze where he’d turned to stack datapads as a thick glob of lubricant splashed against his closed panel.

The former CMO’s valve clenched down, pulsing along with his sparkspin as it lubricated and drooled.

Ratchet wasn’t typically a valve mech. But for some reason, his interaction with Drift… It had made him undeniably wet. The medic squirmed uncomfortably, feeling it as more of his arousal coated the inside of his array. Much more and he feared it would begin leaking form the seams.

Desperate to shake off the feeling in his valve and annoyed with his own lack of control, the ambulance abandoned the datapads on his desk and quickly made his way out of the medbay. The sooner he paid Rodimus and Ultra Magnus a visit, the sooner he could resolve whatever was going on in his array-

A new roil of nausea twisted his tanks, causing the battle-seasoned mech to stop upon entering the hallway. It only lasted a klik, but it was enough to give Ratchet pause. Before he could think too much about it, his comm. pinged.

A quick glance at his HUD drew an exasperated sigh from his vents. :I’m on my way, Rodimus, I didn’t forget.: Slagging first-time creators and their imagined problems-

:Oh! Yeah, I was just checking. ‘Blaze is excited to see you! Is Drift coming?:

The medic rolled his optics, straightened, and continued down the hallway. :He is a sparkling. Swiftblaze isn’t excited to see me and no, Drift isn’t coming.:

:Awww. Drift’s his favorite.: There was a pause over the comm.; it was likely that the prime was baby-talking to his creation. :And he does too get excited! His winglets flutter when he sees you.:

:That means he’s sensing his surroundings. Not that he’s happy to see me.:

Another pause came over the comm. before Rodimus spoke again, his voice triumphant. :I just asked him and he squealed. He’s definitely excited to see you.:

Down below, Ratchet felt another drop of lubricant splatter against the inside of his modesty panel. Suppressing a moan and a curse, the old medic forced himself to push Drift’s provocative teasing to the back of his processor. This was definitely not the time to get all heated up.

:Ratchet?:

:Yes, yes. I’ll be there soon, Rodimus.:

:You okay?: The worry was obvious in the captain’s voice.

:Of course I’m okay. You sound like Drift.:

Rodimus’ sounded distracted then, likely playing with Swiftblaze. :You seem… strained. And Drift said you’d been sick-:

The former CMO pulled up short when he reached the captain’s suite. :It’s nothing. I wouldn’t come see Swiftblaze if I thought it was dangerous or transmittable. Now, are you going to open up and let me do my job, or continue to try and mother hen me?:

Before Ratchet had finished speaking, the habsuite door was sliding open.

As he stepped inside, Ratchet forced away the persistent feeling of arousal that lingered in his field and array. He would deal with it later; right now he had a job to do. This was not the time to be acting like a sealed mech in his first heat cycle.

Despite his efforts, his valve remained slick and ready beneath his panels, eager to be touched by none other than Drift. Ratchet grumbled with irritation, resisting the urge to squirm in his plating. Maybe he’d go see First Aid after all. Even Ratchet valued a second opinion when it came to diagnosing himself.

Without another thought about what Drift had planned for their shared evening, the experienced medic entered the hab to check up on the Lost Light’s youngest crew member.