For once in a great long while, the med bay was completely silent. It was sad how eerie the place became when no one hurt themselves or was injured in battle. In fact, it was a slow past couple of weeks come to think of it. Ratchet idly wiped equipment down and even organized his files for the hundredth time. However, no matter what he done to occupy himself, his mind always went back to how it felt like he was missing something in his life.
Sure, the services he provided on the Lost Light gave him sense of accomplishment, and Primus knows how much he did. Fixing up and healing ailments was a big chore among this ragtag crew. At points it seemed never ending, and it was all First Aide, Ambulon and himself could do to get the damaged mechs out. Being that busy kept the medic's mind at bay, however, when there was absolutely nothing to do, he started asking himself what if's, or how comes. And he hated when those questions arose.
He questioned his choices in life, namely his choice to be celibate. True, acting upon such impulses of not being so caused so much drama and spark ache. At least that was what he remembered of his one and only relationship in his past. Slag, even across the galaxy Pharma still managed to hurt him. Looking back at the spoiled relationship, the medic should have seen it coming- the arguing, the jealousy and the anger, of course coming from his bitter partner- should have been ample warning that one should get out.
But being the naive mech, Ratchet believed what Pharma had spat at him, that he was a lousy partner and no one else would want him. Not wanting to go through that again, he simply decided to refrain from that level of intimacy. However, upon reflecting on the past, perhaps Pharma was wrong. The blue winged medic proved to ave clouded judgment with killing patients at Delphi, perhaps his verdict of Ratchet as a partner was incorrect.
All this accomplished was his thinking to go in circles. It wasn't like the red and white mech had anything to base it upon; Pharma was his first and only lover. Ratchet wasn't going to get another shot anytime soon. As far as he could tell, all anyone saw in him was a good wrench thrower and a grumpy old mech. However, on occasion, he felt himself warm up with needy desire and no way to cool himself off- touching himself only served as a reminder on how lonely he was. This feeling only arose late at night when he couldn't keep himself busy. That pretty much described how this evening had gone.
"Late night?" the voice said from the hallway.
"What's it to you?" Ratchet questioned harshly, however, he welcomed the distraction from the debate to touch himself and feel miserable, or let himself run this hot and feel miserable. He recognized who it was. White and red color theme with two swords at his hip. It was Drift, the third in command, also known as the flaky spiritualist.
"Nothing really," Drift replied and shrugged his shoulders. He casually walked in, glancing around the empty room. "Busy night, I see."
"Thankyou, mister sarcastic," Ratchet said. "Why did you stop by?"
"I saw the light on, and just stopped in, that's all."
"How considerate." the medic spat, but partly regretted it as he saw the hurt look on the swordsmech's face. He let out a sigh and started to grab some tools he had been cleaning and returned them to their home in the toolbox.
"I didn't mean to bother you Ratchet. I was just lonely, and saw someone was awake in here."
"S'ok." He clanged the tools in the box and snapped it shut. As he was placing the box in the storage cubby, the latch broke off and the tools clanged loudly on the floor and scattered. "Scrap!"
Ratchet bent down to retrieve his tools. Of all the mechs that could wonder into his med bay when he felt the way he did, it had to be Drift. Why did he have to help gather his tools up, bending over in such an alluring way? Why did the lithe white mech have to rub his arm against his as he squat to neatly place more tools back in the box? Upon the touch, Ratchet involuntarily shuttered and his cooling flans clicked on for a second. Primus, why where his cooling fans wanting to click on? He could only hope the other mech didn't hear them.
Drift looked at the medic, lips partly open in question and a look of concern on his face. "Are you OK?" Drift placed his hand on Ratchets shoulder. "You're hot... Do you feel well?"
Ratchet felt his cheeks get hot. He mentally cursed his body for acting on its own. It didn't help that Drift was biting his lip all cute like with concern. Or the fact he was leaning so close Ratchet could smell the exotic polish that was distinctly his alone help the situation any. Why did Drift have to be so hot?
He did not just say that! Ratchet just knelt there, eyes wide and jaw open in shock.
"You OK?" Drift asked again as he helped the CMO to his feet.
"Yeah," Ratchet replied. "Fine." He walked over to his desk and started fumbling around with stuff there- anything to get away from Drift.
Meanwhile, the swordsmech continued to pick up the tools, and placed the box in the cubby. When he turned around, he caught a glimpse of the medic staring at him, cheeks bright red as he ran his tongue over his lips. Naturally, when Drift stood up, Ratchet, being embarrassed with being caught leering, turned around. Drift laughed to himself, and walked over to the other.
"I think I know whats wrong, Ratch," Drift whispered, placing his hands on the medic's hips. His fingers found some sensitive wires, which gently stroked at them until he felt their owner jump but heat up more. Ratchet went to move away but Drift simply wrapped his arms around him trapping him in place.
"Let me go, Drift," Rachet demanded a bit more huskily then intended.
"Is that what you really want?" Drift tightened the embrace, pressing his chest onto the medic's back, and gently pressed his lips to the wires on the nape of the CMO's back.
Ratchet wanted to yell out for him to stop. Or swat that slim body out of the way. Anything instead of leaning back into the other for more, enjoying the sensations of Drift's kisses and wondering hands.. He wished he didn't turn around only to have Drift fondle at his chest, looking straight into his optics.
Drift gave him a warm smile and sweetly spoke. "Do you want me?
Of course Ratchet wanted to deny it. But how could he? Standing chest to chest in the other's warm embrace just made him pant with desire. The medic gave no reply, with te way he felt right now, he found no words to respond.
"You don't have to speak," Drift whispered inches from the other's face. "I can see it in the way you look at me." He closed the space, and gently pressed his lips against the medic's in a soft kiss. Drift gave a playful laugh as he felt hands wrap around his waist only to wonder over his aft and down the back of his thighs.
"Want to come back to my room?" Drift questioned, and his only answer was cheeks turning even more crimson, which where a joy to kiss. "Come on," Drift coaxed, making sure to grab the medic's hands as he backed up to lead him out of the med bay. "Come with me, Ratchet. What happens is up to you, but let me help cool you off." Drift lewdly winked at the other as he looked over his shoulder, gently leading the CMO by the hand.
Ratchet gave a sigh, and resigned to allowing himself to be led. What was he getting himself into?
The last time I was on -like 10 years ago, they ended the adult content allowed. I am sure it is still not allowed- correct? So, if anyone wants to read on, go here:
/works/1070638/chapters/2158451