New fic! Yeah! I'm hoping you guys like it. I know that you normally don't review, but I like knowing what you think of it. I'd love a review.

And to the people getting this on alerts, sorry for it showing up in the wrong category, but this seems to be the only way to upload things. I'm going to move it from Vocaloid to Transformers in a sec!

Transformers belongs to Hasbro


Optimus and Orion had been something of a surprise to their creators, who had only been expecting a single sparkling from the blessing they'd received from their planet's Allspark temple. Instead, they'd been granted twins, and Optimus and Orion had been formed.

What had been most startling-and deeply confusing for every bot who'd ever met them-was their degree of similarity. Most twins shared similar frames, but had different helmets and paint schemes. Not so for Optimus and Orion, who were identical from the tips of their headfins to the bottom of their peds. They'd been painted differently all the time, and they would diligently scrape the paint away from their identical base coats the very moment they were able to.

Eventually, their creators had stopped.

And then their creators had died, but that was another story altogether.

This sol, the twins had much to rejoice about. Each vorn, various councilmechs and femmes would take students from the Autobot Academy for special tutoring or work experience, and the twins had been attempting to secure the position they longed for longer than either could remember.

Optimus clasps his servos with Orion's, leaning in close to his brother to whisper, "I was in Sergeant Kup's office earlier, to review a paper with him, and I caught a glimpse of the assignments for the next vorn."

Orion gasps, "Oh, slag, who are we with? Did we get-"

"Yes!" Optimus's spark tingles with joy. "We got Ultra Magnus!"

Orion's optics brighten, "We'll have to shine each other extra nice when we go report to him."

Optimus links his arm in with his twin's, "When we're situated more firmly, we'll have to shine each other when we're there."

There's the sound of movement that can only be Sentinel, and they make a face at each other before straightening up and holding themselves tightly together. The larger mech has the annoying tendency to hold them in each arm. They don't mind so much, but it it frustrating to be treated like arm candy when they're so excited.

Elita-1 often treated them the same way, but after they'd interfaced her a few times she'd mostly lost interest. She'd flat-out told them that Sentinel was better at licking spark than they were, and Optimus and Orion had gone out and jumped Sentinel that very same night to prove her wrong.

Sadly, she hadn't been wrong. Sentinel was slagging good with his glossa. It was even better because he shut up while he was doing it.

Sentinel steps over to them, giving them a disappointed look when he sees them clinging together, but puts a servo on the both of their shoulders, "Optimus, Orion!" They both roll their optics, and the mech continues, "They're going to be announcing who we're going to be working for in a decacycle or so. Want to congratulate me on my inevitable job for the Magnus?"

They both exchange a smirk, and Optimus shakes his head, "No. You can't know who you're working for yet. We might help celebrate when we know for certain."

Orion stands up on the tips of his peds to brush a kiss against Sentinel's cheek. "Congratulations on your job as the Magnus's janitor." Cackling, Orion ducks Sentinel's swiping arms and hides behind his brother. "I bet you love scrubbing his floors."

Sentinel huffs and straightens imperiously. "We'll see what kind of tune you're singing when I am working directly under the Magnus and you are stuck trying to avoid Wheeljack's explosions when you're shoved with a random sciencebot again."

They smirk at him, and Optimus holds a little closer to Orion, "That wasn't as bad as you kept insisting it was. We spent a lot of time learning from Perceptor."

Orion smirks, "While you spent all that time with Cosmos. Did you like his talk of various planets he loves, but will never visit?"

Sentinel glares at them, "It was educational. Unlike what you're doing."

Sticking his glossa out, Optimus says disdainfully, "You're jealous because we get better assignments every vorn and you keep getting reject bots who take you out of pity. Or because they've heard you have a great glossa."

Sentinel turns so red his face goes purple, and Orion stifles a giggle. They love riling him up, because he gets so stiff and rigid about rules and policies sometimes that they have to or he'll snap right in half from the pressure. "I do not interface my mentors."

Orion and Optimus giggle together, "To their eternal disappointment." Orion wraps his arms around Optimus, and they say at the same time, "It speaks well for you, Sentinel, but they still hear about your glossa and want it."

They giggle as the larger mech glares at them, "While you two need to stop plotting to get on the Magnus's good side through your sparks."

They give him a upset look, and Optimus huffs, "We aren't. We will show him how wonderful we are, and you're just jealous."

"Whatever," Sentinel waves them off before pulling a datapad from his subspace. "Here. Picked this up at the library while I was out. I want you slaggers to stop checking things out under my name. I don't read Glosswing because I'm not a widdle sparkling."

Orion takes the pad with far more dignity than it deserves. "Thank you. We promise to only read the interesting parts out loud to you."

"I'd rather you didn't read any of it out loud. I don't give a frag about your crush on Metalmist, or the pathetic self-insert fanfiction you've been writing during your classes."

They give him a dirty look, "Officers Lightspark and Sparkdrive are canon! They may not get mentioned much, but they are there! You're just upset because you don't have a twin."

The larger mech gives them a flat look, "I don't need a twin." The mech's expression turns rather lecherous, and they get grabbed around the waist, "Not when I have you two here."

They make a face at him, "You're with Elita-1, and she's already warned us off of you."

"Not today I'm not," Sentinel drags both of them out of the room. "She's positive she's getting paired up with either Red Alert or one of the higher council femmes, and she said I'm not going to shame her during the announcement. That means I get to have my two pretty twin mechs as my side instead. Aren't you lucky?"

Luck isn't what Orion would call this. "Sure. Does that mean we get to shame you?"

Optimus makes a face as he's kissed, and Sentinal smirks, "I doubt you'll shame me while we're in the assembly hall at the announcement in a decacycle." They're pulled out into a more public area, "So we're going to go to celebrate."

They pull away from him, and they hold each other tightly so the mech can't grab them again, "We told you we aren't going to. You need to remember that our decisions are perfectly valid, even if you don't like them. If you want to be a Prime, you need to remember that."

"And I told you that I'd be buying your energon tonight if you came with me." Sentinel pauses significantly as both twins lean closer to him, taking his bait, "Since that sweet shop you like is right next door to the bar. I figured I could get you an energon bar to share."

Orion is so very tempted. He loves sharing the sweet, sticky energon bars with Optimus, licking it off of each others' servos until nothing remains but equally sweet and sticky kisses that always lead to overcharged interfacing. On the other servo, he'll have to put up with an overcharged and grope-happy Sentinel.

They share a look, and reluctantly shake their heads. They really don't want to deal with Sentinel right now. Optimus kisses Orion softly, and they murmur, "You can pay for our energon when we are working for the Magnus. We're sure you'll have fun then."

They move away before the mech can grab their afts, "You mean when I'm working for the Magnus."

They make a face, "You can think that, but we're going to be the ones he wants."

"Yeah, and when you end up 'working' every sol spread out on his desk, that'll do you a whole lot of good at getting you an honest Prime rank," Sentinel sneers, but they both know he's just upset that they won't go out drinking with him.

Optimus loops an arm around Orion's waist, turning with his brother, "We'll see you when you get back, Sentinel. Don't stay out too late or go home with any strange femmes."

They dodge away from the customary grope from the mech. "If you'd come with me, that wouldn't be a problem."

They ignore him, and head to the barracks.


They carefully avoid standing near any bot that will try to wrap arms around their waists as they stand in the assembly hall. They clutch together in excitement, they know they're going to have to wait, since Ultra's chosen bots are always last, but they know it will be worth it.

Both bots hide their nervousness by offering each other little kisses, which aren't entirely appropriate, but it's not something any of their tutors and professors are going to complain about. Not when they get guilty spark-pulses from seeing the twins kissing like that.

Sentinel scowls at them when he's paired off with some long-distance recon bot again-it seems like they're trying to get him interested in being far, far away from Cybertron.

They both giggle softly at his irritated look, but don't say anything about it; not wanting to get too close to him.

When Elita-1 gets Botanica, she is incredibly smug looking, and they aren't surprised at her being with the femme. Femmes normally choose other femmes to have working with them, after all.

They go through the rest of the bots, getting increasingly nervous, even if they know they're getting who they want. It is very wire fraying to have to wait for the announcement, but when it happens, they hug each other tightly, pressing tiny kisses to each other's lips in their excitement.

They are shortly joined by Sentinel, who says flatly, "Looks like you made it." The tone turns absolutely filthy, "So you said that we can celebrate this together?"

"You can buy us our energon sweets," Orion hums, noticing that Ultra Magnus is watching them from across the room. /Ultra is watching us, Optimus. Should we play it up a little?/ He keeps his optics fixed on Sentinel, dragging his fingers down the bot's shoulder guards.

/I'm up for it if you are, Orion. Just make sure Sentinel's licking one of us if we end up with him in the berth tonight. I don't want him babbling things again./

Orion presses against Optimus, /That is ALWAYS frustrating. I wonder if Elita invested in a gag for him. One that stops his talking, but leaves his glossa free./

They both start to giggle, kissing each other as they press against Sentinel, /Those are so FILTHY. Only berthbots that talk too much have them./

Orion rubs against them both, /Sentinel certainly counts, then./

/He'll make some bot a nice berthwarmer some sol/, Optimus teases, breaking their kiss just before it reaches the filthiness level that the professors will interrupt. /C'mon. We've gotten Ultra all riled up over there, so I think we're safe to go out and celebrate now. I want some energon bars./

Slipping away, Orion tugs both bots towards the door, /Sounds like a plan to me./


When they report in to Autobot Headquarters, they are shined to perfection. They know that, technically, they shouldn't have, but they want to impress the Magnus. They walk in step, making their peds click prettily. They're going to be discussing if they should get heelmods or other things to make them even more distracting while in front of Ultra Magnus, so they seem even more outstanding when they have the work done quickly and perfect.

It's good to have friends in the medical practices, even if Ratchet was awfully grumbly and grumpy about agreeing to do mods on them for reduced prices. It helped that his femme had been around at the time and had cuffed his helmet when he'd suggested charging them double because they were 'royal pains in the aft.' He'd had pink paint all over him at the time.

Arcee was apparently very vigorous in the berth.

They report in, and are incredibly excited when they see their desk.

Until they see there is only one chair.

Exchanging a look, they both agree this must be some kind of test, and Orion sits in the chair while Optimus looks through the various datapads they need to work on. It really is essentially busywork. Optimus shrugs and hands them to Orion, "Want me to do the running around this sol, and we switch off? Since that does seem to be what we're expected to do."

/It hardly seems professional for our mentor to not even meet us. We're not early, are we?/ Orion takes the datapads, "If we can find a list of errands for you, that sounds like a plan to me." /Unless Ultra wants one of us on his lap so he can play with our spark while he works./

Optimus shivers a bit, "You look through those datapads, and I'll see if he's in his office yet." /If he wants a lapbot to overload, I volunteer to be first./

Orion nods, waving a servo to send him off. /Go have fun. Tell him that we're both happy to join in next time if he does./

He takes off, making it to the Magnus's office easily, and knocking on the door. There's the sound of unlocking and a call of, "Come in."

Stepping in to the office, Optimus stands at attention, "We've come to report in, sir. Was there anything specific you'd like us to do?" He moves so that the tiny amount of metal flake they put in their sparkplate seams flash, since the plates are already blue, they didn't even have to get the colored flake.

Ultra Magnus's optics flick down over his frame and then back up to his optics, "Optimus, am I correct?"

Optimus shakes his head. Bots always have a fifty-percent chance of guessing them correctly, but that doesn't mean the twins are honest about it. "No, sir. Optimus is working on the datapads you left on our desk." With the single chair. Does the Magnus expect them to share it?

Ultra Magnus stares at him for a long klik before returning to the datapad he was writing on. "Lying is unbecoming of an officer, Optimus. Please refrain from it in my presence."

He tilts his head, "I'll be sure to inform Orion, sir." He moves slightly, "But we really do need to know what exactly you want us to do. There is nothing informing us what our job entails on the desk."

The Magnus glances up at him, "Organize the datapads, answer the console, arrange appointments. Easy enough. Especially since there are two of you."

Optimus keeps from frowning, he isn't sure if he's supposed to ask this or not, but he may as well do it now, when he already looks foolish. "Are we supposed to sit in the single chair that is there?"

"I have never required more than one secretarybot at once," Ultra says calmly. "I assume you two can trade off days. I'm sure you have many things you could be doing with that extra time."

Optimus frowns. "No, sir. Forgive me for saying this, but you are supposed to be our mentor for the next vorn. It is unfair to all of us to expect us to be content with a half-vorn each." Not to mention how much harder it would be to seduce the Magnus if they were forced to see him separately.

Ultra Magnus looks at him over the datapad, "I'm just fine with one of you. I was told I had to take you both, when I hadn't asked for either."

Optimus can almost feel his spark get smashed, the Magnus was only looking at them because he had to at the ceremony. He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, "Yes, sir."

The larger bot returns to the datapad, "If you must, you can get another chair to share the desk. I expect an exemplary job since you're doing a single bot's job."

/Optimus, are you alright? Why does your spark hurt?/

Optimus shoves his link with his brother to the background so he can force a neutral expression for the Magnus. "Yes, sir. You can expect the best from us."

"I expect the best from every Autobot under my command," Ultra says, offering a datapad to Optimus. "You can begin by filing this. I would appreciate if you were to inspect the filing offices as well, as I suspect they are sorely out of order. Since you insist on remaining here, you should consider reorganizing them."

He gives off a sharp salute, "Yes, sir." Stepping out the door, he puts a servo over his plates for a moment, trying not to rub them to soothe the pain of his disappointment. /Orion, he doesn't even WANT us. He said that he had to take us./

He can feel the answering pain from his twin's spark, /He... he doesn't?/

He starts to look through the datapad, just a general report on the assignments for various Primes. /He didn't even look at my sparkplates or anything, just gave me the coldest look possible. Don't pull the pretending to be me trick on him, either. He saw right through it./

His twin pauses before answering, /Isn't that a good thing, though? He cares enough to be able to tell us apart. No one did that since before Papas Steelbolt and Powerdrive./

He starts walking down to the filing system, /Or he studied our pictures and videos of us to not look foolish./

/Do you want me to spit in his energon? I will if you want./

Optimus smiles a little, against his will. /No, Orion. Don't spit in the MAGNUS'S energon. Have a little more class than that./ He stops in horror. /Holy slag, Orion. I think I'm going to be down here the entire fragging VORN. This place is a mess./

Datapads are stacked haphazardly on every surface, and most of the ones in the back are completely inaccessible. There's a thick layer of dust on every surface except for the current precarious towers of datapads that are stacked near the entrance. It's a nightmare.

/Where are you?/

He moves through the place as he responds, /He told me to organize the filing. I don't think he'll see me AT ALL after this./

He can tell Orion is scowling in the reply, /Well, we came here to impress him, so we'll just have to show up on our sols off just to work on it. We'll have each other as we work, and it will make it easier for us in the long run. We want him to think we're miracle workers, and we can do it. It will just be harder than we first thought it would be./

/I don't think you understand how BAD it is down here,/ Optimus groans, setting his datapad down. He doesn't have any idea where to begin. Half of the storage shelves and containers look like they're about to fall off the walls and crumple in on themselves under the weight of the pads on them and the extreme age of the materials. /Here, let me send you an image capture./

He takes a few close ups of the worst parts-a shelf that appears to have fallen off and been put back on the wall upside down; a box labeled in ancient Cybertronian for some kind of delivery service that's stacked full of dusty datapads; several towers of pads that are on the verge of collapse, the weight of the other towers the only thing holding them up. He sweeps his optics along the entire room, doing a quick video capture as well, and sends them all to his brother. /Look at how slagging AWFUL it is./

He can feel the despair from Orion, /I'll head down after you get started, and we can switch off every megacycle or so. That will keep it from being too bad, and we can get it done quicker that way./

He nods unhappily, knowing his twin can feel his acceptance, and gets started.


Please Review

Okay everyone! 8D New fic again! Yeah! Updating daily, of course. Only nine chapters for this one. I hope you guys like it :3

I do hope that you guys review, too. I know that it normally gets ignored in favor of going straight to the next fic, but we love hearing from you! Optimus' Girl reviews every time, and we are always glad to see it. We will be so happy to see your review o3o