Some mechs can be entirely too cruel! Even though the perpetual war between the Autobots and Decepticons had come to an end, it appeared as if some lines were still drawn, separating the 'good mechs' from the 'bad mechs'. It sucked slag when you were a mech categorized as one of the bad ones.
But hadn't he proven that he was a changed mech? Hadn't he shown he discarded his past life of hate and exchanged it for a more righteous path? Wasn't his help with this expedition proof enough that his days of ruthless killing were done? Apparently, for most mechs, it wasn't enough. More mechs than he'd like to admit still gave him a lingering, watchful glance upon this ship.
Returning from a rather drab night from the Lost Light's makeshift bar, Drift quickly closed and locked the door of his own personal quarters. Finally, he could be alone in his own sanctuary away from the judgmental mechs and their snark comments. All he had now was his thoughts- which wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Amazingly, Swerve's was still up and running; wasn't an operational bar prohibited? Apparently, some could get away with breaking the rules while other's still carried the burdens of their past no matter how hard one tried to bury it. Life could be so unfair.
Drift sighed. In reality, it wasn't Swerve he was upset with, just some of the mechs that happened to frequent the mini-bot's bar. While enjoying some fancy drink that was made up by the bar's owner, the swordsmech had overheard some rude comments from the table just behind him. It was no secret he used to be a Decepticon. Hell, he openly admitted he had made a poor choice earlier in his life. Slag, he made several.
Obviously, the poor major choice was choosing to join Megatron in his fight against the Senate. Why exactly did he join? Reflecting on his past, Drift couldn't blame himself, at least at the time. Why would a low life, street mech want to fight for a class of people who had no problem with letting beings just like him slip through the cracks? Hadn't the Senate been off-lining mechs they deemed obsolete?
Even thinking of it now made Drift's plating crawl. However, to be fair, the old Drift didn't pay the exact reasons much thought. Being pissed at the world, Drift had only wanted to release a carnage of hurt onto other mechs that had caused him pain. He wanted to make other's feel just like he had felt living on the streets. He wanted them to know the agony of losing the closest mech to him. He wanted them to know what despair was. And most of all, he wanted them to feel expendable like their life didn't matter.
Drift groaned and let out another sigh. Looking back, he knew how stupid that was. Megatron may have given him a reason to rise and join the fight. The warlord had given him hope to leave the slums behind and to unleash his anger on the world. That was how the monstrosity named Deadlock was born. However, in the end, he was still just as expendable. Just a pawn to be used in the war. Weren't all the troops? Maybe, even now, he was still expendable. Who would miss him if he was gone?
Propping his head on his hand, Drift idly looked at the table and discovered a package sitting on the corner. Eyeing it questioningly, he hadn't remembered seeing it before. Curiosity won out and picking it up, the red and white mech inspected the rectangular gift. A message was scribbled on its sloppily wrapped paper.
'Drift, you need to chill out and learn to relax.'
A short lived smiled appeared on his lips as he realized the answer to his previous question. Who would miss him? Rodimus would. Over the time of their expedition, their relationship had deepened. The two had hit it off instantly. The pair seemed to complete each other: Drift being the more calm and logical one and Rodimus being the more passionate and spontaneous one. True, both were known to annoy each other, but it didn't take long for them to become more than just friends. Even after they shared each other's berth, their relationship bloomed into something more steady. Of all the mechs he met over the years, who would've thought that the reckless and carefree captain of this ship would be one of the rare few who saw through his past?
With a sigh, Drift unwrapped the gift and made a face when he discovered it was a chocolate bar. Of all the treats to gift him, why was it sweets? Hadn't his lover known he wasn't so fond of chocolate? Tossing the gift wrap down on the table, Drift discovered the second message.
'It tastes soooo good.'
Rolling his optics in jest, Drift unwrapped the chocolate bar and took a bite. It was sweet, just like he remembered from the rare occasions he previously was able to eat a candy bar. Biting into the chunk in his mouth, a gush of caramel rushed out, covering his tongue in the sticky sweetness. While it wasn't his normal cup of tea, it wasn't terribly bad either.
Plus, eating the chocolate bar temporarily made him forget his troubles. As he worked on swallowing the sticky mess in his mouth, he was not troubled by the thoughts of ridicule from the mechs in the bar. Being alone in his room didn't seem all that bad. Bite after bite, the thoughts of whether he belonged or not did not plague him anymore.
At least until the chocolate bar was finished, that is. With a small pout, Drift looked at the empty wrapper on the table, then frowned as the realization that he finished the treat in one sitting. He let out a sigh as his belly let out a grumble.
"Great," Drift mumbled at his rumbling belly. He was still hungry. If only he had some more...
Well, there was the sweets that Rodimus kept stashed away. After all, the only thing the captain seemed to want is junk food and not the so called 'healty crap' that Drift normally fed himself. It's not like his lover kept a tally on the sweets he stored over here.
Releasing a big sigh, Drift silently scolded himself, but not for thinking of taking Rodimus's snacks. He knew his partner wouldn't care. What got him upset was how bad he was craving the junk food right now. This wasn't normal for him.
Drift stood up and walked to his hab suit's mini kitchen and started to rummage through the cabinets. He passed over the more healthy options that he normally would dig into and settled on a pack of Oreo cookies. Opening the package, the swordsmech took out a black and white cookie and popped it in his mouth. No sooner than he bit into the cookie did he realize that a glass of cold energon milk would go great with this snack. Giving into his craving, Drift opened his fridge and looked around.
"Awww man," Drift whined as he saw the last of his energon milk was used to make into cream. He had planned on making some homemade mac and cheese with it but wondered if it would still hit the spot... It was made from milk after all. He opened the bottle and took a little sip at first. It was much thicker than milk but still tasted just fine. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he poured himself a glass of the thick cream.
Taking a cookie, he dunked it into the cream first, allowing the treat to suck up some of the liquid and then put it in his mouth. The cold, sweet cream mixed with the cookie was simply delicious! One by one, Drift continued the ritual of dunking the cookie, placing it in his mouth, chewing, and then swallowing until before he knew it, all the cookies were gone. Then he chugged the rest of the cream in his glass.
Consuming all the cookies felt oddly satisfying. It was almost like he was in Cybertopia. Nothing would bother him. No more feelings of worry and dread. No more fearing if he belonged or not. In the time he devoured the bag of oreo's, it was like time stood still and nothing else mattered but to eat the tasty treats.
And now that he was done, reality came screeching back. Giving a heavy sigh, Drift discarded the empty container into the trash. He leaned against the counter and frowned as his stomach growled. Going through a pack of oreo's like it was nothing still didn't satisfy his craving.
Drift rubbed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. If he stopped now and just went to bed, he could just sleep it off. But the groaning of his stomach made the thought unbearable along with the haunting events of earlier this evening. With a guilty conscious, Drift rummaged through his cabinets until he found some more treats.
He ended up with a pack of devil dogs. Unwrapping one of his lover's snacks, the chocolate cake with cream filling was brought to his lips, and Drift bit off a mouthful. He hummed at the food's rich taste and licked at the cream that stuck to his mouth. Without much thought, he refilled his glass of cream and took a hearty swig.
One by one, Drift fed himself the cream filled cakes, taking the time to savor the taste as he chewed each mouthful, then swallowed. He thought of nothing but how satisfying they tasted and how good eating them made him feel. However, the sound of his hab suit door swishing open woke him out of the daze. He quickly did his best to hide the evidence of his binge, shoving the devil dog cakes behind the energon dispenser and placing the glass of cream in the sink.
"Aw man, you won't believe what happened at work today Drift!" Rodimus shouted as he walked into the room. Drift stood with his back facing the other mech. "You should have seen Magnus' face when he realized..."
Rodimus babbled on, but Drift barely focused on what he was saying. Instead, he stood there mortified that his lover chose this exact time to just barge into his room. True, coming in unannounced was not new for Rodimus, and if it weren't for the snacks hidden among his counter top and his mouth full of the cakey treats, Drift wouldn't have cared.
Doing his best to chew quickly and swallow the last of the remnants in his mouth, Drift looked down and was mortified to see just how much he had eaten: his once flat belly swelled out a bit. There was no way of hiding this from Rodimus. He placed his hands on his belly as a last ditch effort to see if what he saw was real. His belly was indeed petruding out a bit due to all the snacks he had consumed. Before he knew it, he let out a groan of dissaproval as his fingers gently messaged the flab.
"Hey," Rodimus asked. "Something bothering you Drift?"
The swords mech's optics shot wide open, and he bit his lower lip. He heard the footsteps of his lover approaching, and there was nothing he could do to hide the situation. He may have been able to cover up the wrappers from the consumed food, but there was no way to hide his belly. In the end, what Drift feared the most was what Rodimus would think of him.
As he heard the footsteps come closer from behind, Drift felt as if his chest was being bound and he could hardly suck in a breath. He closed his optics and gently sucked in air through his mouth in an attempt to calm his anxiety. With trembling hands, Drift lowered them to try and hide his chubby belly. While he was quite fond of Rodimus, he suddenly wished he were gone.
"Drift..." Rodimus nearly shouted. "Hello? Anyone home?" The red and yellow mech walked up behind the other and pressed his chest against the other's back. "What's wrong?"
"N...Nothing..." Drift stammered as he tried not to shutter as he felt servo's wrapping around his body. "I... J-just-"
A yelp escaped the red and white mech's lips as the hands traveled past his chest and ended up landing on just what he was trying to hide. At first, the servo's questioningly poked, then gave an experimental squeeze. Drift felt his cheeks warm up as he realized he was caught: no way to hide what was found.
"Sooo... Just what have you been up to?" Rodimus asked as he pushed Drift's servo's out of the way to give his hand full access. His servo's gently rubbed up and down the swell of the belly, giving an occasional pinch and pat. However, as quickly as the rubbing began, it came to a stop just as quickly. "Well, I see you've enjoyed more than just the chocolate bar..." Rodimus's hand snatched the poorly hidden box of devil dogs and shook out the remaining cake.
"Hmm... Didn't leave much for me, did ya?" Rodimus pouted as the mech in his arms began to squirm. "Hey..."
"Sorry," Drift shouted with a touch of anger.
"Dude, come on," Rodimus whined. "I don't care. If you like 'em that much, you can have them all." His arms wrapped tighter around the wriggling mech. "What's wrong Drift?"
"Let go of me!" Drift demanded and was immediately released from the bear hug he was previously trapped in. "Don't... Touch me..."
"Why?" Rodimus' voice was filled with concern.
"I...it's..." Drift stuttered as he wished he was invisible. "..disgusting..."
"Wha..." Rodimus started to ask, then stopped. Seeing Drift shy away from him, covering his belly with his servos, and his cheeks turning red gave him the answer to his question. Clearly, his partner was embarrassed. "Hey, it's alright." Drift just stood there cowaring in the other's gaze. "Hey man, I don't care that you ate all-er... Most of my snacks. I.. I don't care that you stuffed your belly so full... I mean..." Rodimus nervously bit at his lip. "I mean... It's kinda hot."
Drift shot him a glare in disbelief. He did not just hear him say that.
"What? You think there is something wrong with a curvy mech?" Rodimus gave a lopsided grin as his optics roamed over his lover's body. "I think it kinda looks good on you."