Optimus was finishing getting everyone settled and rearranged. So far, he had paired Bumblebee with Arcee, and he had watched Wheeljack coax Ratchet and Bulkhead into his quarters. Ultra Magnus, his devoted brother, preferred to remain with himself in his own quarters. That left the youngest, the new arrival called Smokescreen, who was eager for a mate, but Prime could not find a good pair for him to rest with. Wheeljack and Bulkhead went at their own pace, and Optimus knew by the sound that it wasn't the best position to put a young one in, so while the youngest 'bot wanted to be dominated, he wasn't sure if he should let Wheeljack be the one to do it, so he was relieved to find that Wheeljack had gotten his old mate Ratchet into the berth.

But now Smokescreen was anxious and squirmy. They had been on Earth so long that spring had become a time when the mechs and femmes scrambled to try to create a sparkling, just as the birds and other animals outside did. Ultra Magnus could contain the urge to sire a sparkling, but Smokescreen could not contain himself. Every spring, he was turned away. The only berth that wasn't full was his own, they said.

And every spring, Prime had watched with narrowed and dim optics. Magnus had asked why the Prime didn't coax the little one into his berth, but when Optimus returned the question, his brother went silent and just stared at the wall ahead of them. He was uninterested, it seemed, in love. He had been so against physical contact when they were younger that while brothers and sisters kissed and cuddled, Orion would sit and watch in longing while Magnus did everything in his power to avoid Orion during that time.

Ratchet's grumpy voice chased Smokescreen into the main room. It sounded to Optimus that his old friend was in heat, which sent the whole base in an uproar.

Ultra Magnus settled beside him in their usual spot and they crossed their arms at the same time. "Looks like the little one is alone again."

"Perhaps you should escort him to your berth."

"Perhaps you should coax him between your sheets."

"Perhaps you should take him for a drive."

"Perhaps you should get him out of the base."

"Perhaps-" Optimus broke off and he sighed. It was pointless. They could go on like this for hours and get nothing gone.

"Perhaps we should draw straws."

Optimus didn't know how sketching a straw would do any good, but he reluctantly went in search of paper and a pencil, which brought him to the RecRoom. Ultra Magnus found some of Miko's bendy straws and he cut one so that it was shorter than the other. Meanwhile, Prime was drawing a straw.

This amused Ultra Magnus to the point of actually grinning down at his brother. Optimus glared up at him.

"You should have been more clear," he protested. He was exhausted, after all, which probably meant that he would be in heat soon and would probably stay in his quarters with his servos behind his paneling.

Ultra Magnus held up his fist. Even Optimus' sensitive optics couldn't tell the difference, and he slowly drew a straw out of his brother's fist.

He looked in amazement at the straw that Ultra Magnus had in his servo.

Optimus' straw was shorter than Magnus'.

"You jinxed it."

"How, brother?" Ultra Magnus threw the straws away. "Since I am the winner, and as you have not yet come up with an idea of how I supposedly cheated, may I recommend you take Smokescreen out for a drive and let nature take her course from there? Perhaps you can squeeze between his legs while he is not looking?"

Optimus found salt on the table, probably from the humans, and he flicked the crystals at Magnus as he stood. "Very well, but I will find out how you could have possibly cheated."

Ultra Magnus nodded and he shook his brother's helm. "Be nice with the boy. I hoped that he could be a valuable addition to the Wreckers."

The Prime nodded and he walked out, finding Smokescreen lingering in the halls with his helm down and his doorwings in a similar position. But when Optimus chirped for him, both flew up and the little warrior spun around on his heel.

"Come, Smokescreen." He waited for the little one to bound up to him before he touched his cheek. He left no doubt with the touch. It wasn't a leader offering praise. It was a lover's touch, and he made sure Smokescreen knew it.

The heated mech padded after him and Optimus knew where his optics were.

"I need you, Smokescreen," he said as he turned. They were by his office now, which was right next to Ultra Magnus' quarters. If what he suspected of Smokescreen was true, he wanted Ultra Magnus to hear it. All of it.

Optimus wasn't a rookie, not like Smokescreen. He had been mounted, he had been dominated, and he had been between a mech and a femme. But with Smokescreen, he knew he couldn't be submissive. Smokescreen didn't know what to do. He was good at following orders, especially when the orders came out of Prime's mouth, because Primus knows the little one is always watching that part of him, among other parts. Prime found himself getting hot at the thought of Smokescreen's optics investigating him.

He patted his lap, his face remaining serious. Smokescreen slowly came around and settled in the chair between the Prime's thighs, where Optimus had directed him.

"Why do you need me, Prime?"

"For two reasons. I am in heat, my dear one, and I cannot focus with the need of pleasure keeping my servos busy doing other things." He was right about one thing. Smokescreen went instantly still when he heard the word heat. He would be so easy to bend over and take right now, but he would be pressing the little one into a corner and taking away his free will.

Smokescreen looked back at him and he squirmed a bit, seemingly uncomfortable, but he didn't jump up and leave. He stared up into his optics and he slowly raised his aft. He was inviting the Prime.

The sound of Optimus' panel sliding back with a loud click was the sound of acceptance.

Optimus had taken a lot of virgins into his berth. He had outlived all of them, and for that he was sad. But when his rod found its way into Smokescreen's aft, he realized that their tight openings did not, and never would, compare to this opening. Smokescreen was tight enough that Optimus wondered if he would overload upon entry, but his rod merely twitched and released a small amount of fluid. It was as if it sensed it was far too tight for him to move without causing pain to both partners.

While Optimus was quiet save a few grunts, Smokescreen's mouth never stopped moving as he cried, yelped, and begged.

"Optimus, please, don't move, it's too tight, oh Primus, Optimus, please, whatever you do, I'm not used to it, ahhh, Primus Primus Primus Primus, it's too big, Optimus, why are you so fragging big. Take it out take it out! Ahhhh! Don't move!"

Optimus had stayed completely still with an optic ridge raised while the little mech squirmed and bucked. He might as well have been thrusting for all the noise he was making. He looked at the wall that was between him and Magnus. He could picture his brother with his audio pressed against the wall.

Or perhaps he didn't need to. Smokescreen's cries had gotten steadily louder, begging him not to move.

"Smokescreen," he said gently. "I have not moved."

"It hurts!"

Optimus stroked his back and hips, easing him down onto his lap. He hadn't felt his port tear yet, so he was remaining inside him until the little warrior was used to the massive stretch in his formerly virgin port. His servo found Smokescreen's panel and he rubbed it. Maybe he could distract him from the stretching.

When Smokescreen slid his panel back, he found his spike that was tucked away. He was glad that he had been the one to take him to the berth. Had Wheeljack seen him, the Wrecker would have laughed and shoved him out into the hall. Smokescreen was practically a baby. He wouldn't be big for a while yet.

"It will hurt for a while, Smokescreen, but that is because it is your first time."

"Did it hurt for you, Optimus?" He looked back at him.

Optimus' optics narrowed as he remembered his first time in the berth. Megatron had been relentless, but he made sure Orion was at least slightly comfortable. "It did, but I had a good partner, and we were young, so we weren't massive."

Smokescreen looked down at his desk as he gripped the edge. Optimus' servo was wrapped firmly around his rod and he gave a small thrust forward, but that jerked the rod in his aft and he stopped immediately. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to the stretch.

Optimus kissed his neck and he slowly pushed at the stretched port with a digit. He was a little looser now. Oh, what he would give for a drop of oil, or a spoonful of coconut oil that melted on contact with his spike. He had found it when he was last in heat and it had brought him to his climax almost instantly. He could barely keep the roar to himself.

Poor Smokescreen's port was taking so much at once. Could he even thrust?

"I am going to move now. If I cannot, I will have to call for Ultra Magnus. Are you ready?"

Smokescreen nodded, and Prime started to move his hips.

They both moaned loudly. Smokescreen was almost too tight to move, and Optimus was very close to his climax. He could tell from the amount of fluid Smokescreen was dribbling that he was about to climax as well.

Without warning, Smokescreen arched up and Optimus saw his desk being coated in fluid. He gave Smokescreen a look, raising his optic ridge again. "Who is going to clean that?"

Smokescreen watched as the Prime drug his digit through the fluid, and he felt as the fluid was wiped onto his port. He whined and squeezed, which brought the Prime over the edge.

As Prime slumped back, so did Smokescreen, and they stayed like that for a while as they panted.

The door cracked open and Magnus peeked in.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Ultra Magnus?" Optimus held Smokescreen close, his servo moving between his legs to cover his spike as it dribbled fluid. He shifted, which made his own spike move inside of Smokescreen. The little warrior gasped and arched up.

"It was a very interesting thing to listen to."

When Magnus left, Smokescreen looked up at him. "Are you two always like this?"

Optimus nodded. "We are close, and we are extremely competitive."

Smokescreen reached up and touched his cheek as his optics closed. "What was the second thing you wanted of me, Prime?"

"I wanted to ask if you would be willing to be my berthmate."

He looked up at him, and he drew him into a kiss. "What do you think?"