I had a presentation about the Army twice today and I started thinking about the Jump Masters. I wanted to write a story about Cybertronian versions, and maybe I will. But then I also had this idea about Optimus in heat with consent issues XD So, I combined it. I think it's going pretty good. I mean, I like it. I have to like it. I wrote it! Enjoy~

Three lunar cycles in the Academy prepared him for drops, rolls, heights of around two hundred feet, and the Waddle, but now that he was actually here, he was swallowing hard, though his mouth had gone dry hours before. In front of him was a mech checking his equipment, tugging and pulling on the straps and cables connecting him to his gear and weapons, including his parachute, which if it was not strapped carefully and correctly, the mech would have "a very bad day".

The Jump Master in front of the gathered mechs started moving his servos, cupping them around his audios. Mechs that had been checked out shouted "Oy", and the last mech that needed checking shook his servos above his helm. The Jump Master nodded and rested a servo over his spark in a motion that meant to wait for his signal. He then stuck his helm out of the open door in the plane for six long kliks. The mech knew it was only a matter of time before-

Optimus stopped typing. He bounced lightly in his chair, his systems on fire. He knew he should not wait this long without service, but he needed to write down...something. He rubbed his cold servos and blew on them lightly, then reached for a disc of Energon that had been molded into shape days before. He held it between his denta and crunched down as he read what he had written, the Energon disc still between his lips even as his denta worked. His servos went back to typing, but it didn't last long. His interface panel slid open and his spike sprang free for the fourth time that day, his valve weeping for attention as well. He wrapped his servo around it and gave a long, squeezing pull as he thought.

The mech was fictional, the events real. He knew that some day, the war would be over, and after Cybertron came back to life and received a new generation, they would be wondering about the war, and it was his duty to record it. And in doing so, he couldn't resist a little fun by throwing in a fictional character. He hummed as he moved his servo faster. Of course, he thought, it would be easier if his heat cycle hadn't gotten in the way. He should have more, but two hours of hard work interrupted by an hour of self-servicing was working against him in his efforts. He contemplated cursing.

Instead, he looked at the door when the knob squeaked. He had shut the door for privacy, but had wrongly assumed that his team would respect this shut door and knock upon it for entry if it was an emergency. All he could do was freeze and blush deep red as Arcee walked in.

"Optimus, I have the reports from my patro-" Her optics went from his optics to his busy servo and her mouth dropped the rest of the way open. "Whoa."

"Knock first," he growled a little. His optics dimmed in humiliation as the femme drew closer.

"You're in heat? Why didn't you tell anyone? Optimus..."

"Please leave."

Her optics were drawn to his desktop and she read what he had written, despite his request. "A story? Looks good. You need to finish it, Optimus. It needs to get done, and so you can have another free servo to type..." Her optics dropped to his spike. It twitched in his servo. He gulped.

Reports forgotten, Arcee settled herself under his desk, pulling his chair in so that he was working almost comfortably at his computer. Her little servos wrapped around his length and pulled. He gasped and struggled a little.

"Arcee, please..."

"Optimus. You have work to do. You can't let this get in the way." And before Optimus could protest, her mouth was around his tip, sucking lightly.

He threw his helm back and spread his legs further. He whimpered and gripped his desk during the first few moments, but gradually, her suckings took the edge off of his heat and he began typing again with shaking servos. His spike throbbed and his valve swelled. Arcee's digits played with his folds and rubbed circles around his exterior sensor. He begged through murmurs and mumbles, his digits slowly curling into fists.

Arcee pulled away from his spike to suck instead at his valve, jerking his hips closer to her with surprising strength. Optimus gasped and wrapped a servo around his spike, pumping it lightly as he watched her work at his valve. This was not how his day was supposed to go at all...

His valve clenched around her digits that pumped in and out of his valve, making the femme swat his thigh each time she felt his calipers ripple and try to grasp her digits to hold them still. "No," she'd scold and she would go back to sucking at his swollen sensor. He couldn't stop clenching, and she didn't stop scolding him.

His spike released ropes of sticky fluid onto his stomach and he knew his valve had done relatively the same thing when Arcee's insistent licking turned into greedy slurps. Optimus settled in his chair as Arcee got up and smiled at him.

"So, please take time to file my reports. And do keep writing. I like the story."

Optimus watched her departure with dimmed optics, a mix of shame and relief fluttering around in them. He closed his optics and sighed, letting his helm fall back. He laid like that for several moments before he lifted his helm and set his servos back to working.

The Jump Master gave the cue to jump, and one after the other, mechs and femmes alike began to run, handing off yellow ropes that would get ripped from their parachute bags, setting off the timer inside. The mech passed his rope off to the Jump Master, who nodded and gave him a high-five and an aft-swat to get him moving faster and to let him know he was good to go. The mech threw himself into the arms of gravity, feeling the rope connected to his pack release and he began counting to six thousand, as he was always instructed. The grey plates of Cybertron below him were blurry as the air tossed him this way and that, but never quite out of alignment. Below him, but not directly below, were his teammates, all of their parachutes deployed.

Before he had even reached four hundred, the parachute deployed and the mech was jerked. He stopped falling and began to glide down, stable and relatively still. His servos curled around the toggles and he adjusted his aim to the dropzone where the Land Master was waiting, waving a red flag to mark his position. Three mechs had already made is safely.

The mech, once close enough, started unbuckling his gear, watching it fall to the ground. When the last piece fell off him, he cut the lines of his parachute and rolled, coming to a stop at the Land Master, who was grinning audio to audio.

"Welcome back to solid ground, Pax."

"Anything's better than the air," Pax laughed and he looked up at the sky towards the mechs still coming. The Jump Master was coming down as well, whooping. The mechs still in the air gave nervous laughs as their gear fell.

"Well, congratulations on your first jump. Get back in line, trooper." The mech jerked his helm towards the line. Pax began to regret agreeing for the elevator jumps, which were just jumps all day and every day. Pax's shoulders fell. The Land Master smirked at his expression. "And don't worry. They get easier as they go along. At the end of the day, you'll be a master."

"Oh, I'm not ready to be Jump Master!"

The Land Master chuckled and gave his aft a swipe to get him moving before he turned back to the sky and waved his flag even more insistently when nervous laughter turned to whimpers. "Come on, you Seekerlings!"

"I'm not a Seeker! I'm not a Seeker!"

"Pathetic!"

` Okay. Fictional character was taking a surprising turn. Optimus pulled his servos away from the keyboard and he frowned. Should he change it? He shrugged a little and went back to typing. No one would notice, and no one would question it. Besides, Optimus reasoned, authors offered pieces of themselves into their works anyway, drawing on past experiences and even throwing themselves in as unnamed characters. He smiled as he typed a little faster. Due to Arcee's insistent ways, his systems were cool and almost at a normal temperature. He knew that he would have double the amount of time to type now.

The mech waited in line for the craft called Chinook to come back. Dual helicopter blades thumped loudly through the air as it landed and they slowly stilled as the mechs piled on. Pax stopped to touch Chinook's side and the plane gave a shudder as it laughed.

"How was the first jump, Seekerling?"

Seekerlings, Pax remembered, were pathetic bundles of limbs and wings and huge optics. He had no doubt that he and the other jumpers looked relatively like Seekerlings, and complained just as much. They even had a funny-looking waddle like Seekerlings.

"Could have been better."

"Could have been better," the Jump Master mimicked. "Don't be deceived, Chinook. Pax here was born to be a jumper."

"Ah. He has a Seeker's soul."

Pax couldn't begin to compare himself to the graceful fliers he often saw. There was no way he was a Seeker, in pretend or in his "soul". He was a Seekerling like everyone else.

"I doubt that," Pax laughed.

Optimus frowned more as he began to tell his own story. He contemplated starting over, but he liked the idea of the fiction story becoming non-fiction. He continued working, not stopping until Arcee came to him again, knocking this time lightly on the door. He looked up as it opened.

"Hey. Just coming to check on you," she purred. "Hope I'm not bothering you. I really am sorry for disturbing you. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," he said with a nod. His servos hovered over the keys, waiting for her to leave. It felt wrong to continue typing with her there.

"I'll check on you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay?"

As soon as the door shut, there was typing on the keys.

The part where Optimus thinks that all author's added themselves in is true for me XD In Broken Hearts Mend Each Other, I needed a character and began describing her, only as I began to type, I realized it was becoming me. Everything about that character is true (except for the horses and minicons, of course). So, I dunno. I probably won't have my Me run around in that story anymore XD I've orphaned it for now due to a lack of ideas for it, but it may get readopted as my own XD