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Cybertron was cold and grey and sometimes dark, not at all like the vibrant brightness of Earth. At another time, in another life, he would have felt that cold darkness all the way to his support struts, seeping into his joints and steeping him in spark-deep weariness that nothing could alleviate. But today, he was warm in spite of all the gloom Cybertron had to offer.
It wasn’t just physical warmth either, though it certainly could have been, as he was curled up between two pleasantly warm ninjas. It was warmth of the spark, brought on by simply being with his lovers. The pulse of Prowl’s spark beneath his audio receptor and the soft thrum of Jazz’s systems across his back were more peaceful and soothing than anything he had experienced in his life. There was no place he would rather be than here, with them.
“You’re thinking too hard, OP,” Jazz said quietly. “I can almost hear it.”
“Sorry,” Optimus replied, equally quiet. He hadn’t thought he was disturbing either of them.
“Shh…” The white ninja shifted so that he was able to wrap both of his arms around the younger mech. “I was teasing. You’re not doing a thing wrong.”
The prime sighed softly when Jazz pressed a kiss to the back of his helm. “Oh, good. I was afraid I’d done something to wake you.”
“Not a thing.” The guardsmech snuggled more closely against Optimus’ back, so that as much of their plating was touching as possible. “If I hadn’t already been awake and enjoying laying here with the two most amazing mechs in the entire universe, I wouldn’t have noticed a thing.”
“I’m not that special, Jazz.” The red and blue mech did his best not to allow his processor to run away with the numerous ways that he was not special at all, and sometimes even less than that.
“You are. You really are.” Jazz gave him a tight squeeze. “Ain’t nobody like you, OP. You’re warm and bright and caring. You make mechs feel accepted, no matter what. You make people feel accepted; Sari’s proof enough of that. You’re like this perfect little star, giving us all the warmth and energy we need to survive.”
Despite himself and the misgivings he had been starting to feel, Optimus chuckled, not loudly because he didn’t want to wake Prowl, but enough to display his genuine amusement.
“That’s what I like to hear.” The white ninja sounded quite pleased. “You wanna let me in on the joke?”
“I was just thinking almost the same thing about the two of you. The two of you make everything brighter and warmer and more like… home. I think I could be back on Archa Seven, and as long as the two of you were there, I’d be okay.” He knew it sounded hokey when he said it out loud like that, but Optimus was pretty sure Jazz would understand. The ninja had sounded hokey enough a moment before, after all.
“Home, huh?” Jazz made a thoughtful noise. “I think I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.” The prime smiled, even though he knew the ninja couldn’t see it from his current position.
They fell quiet after that. There weren’t really any other words that needed to be spoken and the need for recharge was catching up to them both. As he drifted off, Optimus sighed with contentment, a sound that Jazz echoed not long after.
The corners of Prowl’s lip components turned up at the sounds. The two of them shone brightly, indeed. And if he did the same, it was certainly because of them. With a contented sigh of his own, he bent and kissed each of them on the helm before dropping back into his recharge cycle.