2

Ratchet heard them coming from across the base. He'd gotten out his emergency tools in a rush to prepare for whatever the cause of the shouting was. Someone was hurt. The medical bay doors slid open and in came the crowd, all muddy from an outdoor battle. Optimus Prime walked in, surrounded by the others, all fussing over him as he covered his faceplate with his hand. Jazz and Prowl were so closely walking ahead that Prime looked ready to trip, and Bee and Sunstreaker were stepping on his heels from behind. At least Ironhide could keep a little composure as he stomped after the group, knocking mud all over the floor. Ratchet sighed, glad that their leader could at least walk.

"What's happened?" he asked. They all began to talk at once and Ratchet frowned. "I'm sorry I don't speak garble. Optimus, what's wrong with your face?"

Ironhide responded for him. "Megatron punched him in the face so hard that it dented his armor."

Optimus removed his hand so Ratchet could see the damage. Sure enough, the plate was crushed up against his face, and kind of looked like a fist. Prowl reached to touch the dent and Optimus swatted him away. He stood with his back straight and his fists on his hips. He attempted to speak, but it sounded like he was talking through a pillow.

Ratchet laughed. "Optimus, I just told you I couldn't speak garble."

Optimus began garble-speaking even louder, waving his hands around and giving the thumbs-up in an attempt to say he was alright. The others laughed with Ratchet as he pushed the bent bot over to an examination table. "Just sit down and I'll fix you up."

The crowd followed him to the table and watched as Ratchet examined the faceplate, tracing his finger expertly over the lines of the dent, studying the top edge. It seemed to be digging into Optimus' face a good deal. It had to hurt or at least be uncomfortable.

He caught Optimus' blue gaze for a moment, surprised that the bot had been looking at him. The moment ended as Jazz spoke up. "Are you going to be able to fix it?"

"You'll have to replace it, won't you?" Bee added.

That's when Ratchet realized their concern had a good amount of curiosity mixed into it. "You all just want to see his face, don't you?" he teased, and the group responded with outraged embarrassment. He knew he wasn't one to talk. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the leader of the autobots with his mask removed. But he worked it, and managed to get the crowd out of the room.

"And Ironhide, you better come back later and mop up this mess!" Ratchet shouted after them at the door. "Yeah, I saw you stomping your feet! Don't lie."

He returned to Optimus with the tools he needed and began to tinker with the faceplate. Optimus sighed.

"Rough battle?" Ratchet asked. Optimus shook his head a little. "Oh wait, I bet it's all the attention that wore you out, isn't it?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Ah, here we go." The faceplate split open in the front and detached on either side.

"Thank you," he responded, rubbing his face. "They were so worried and I wanted to tell them I was fine. For goodness sake, it was only a punch in the face."

Ratchet chuckled as he set the mangled metal to the side. "Only you would say that, you know."

Optimus watched him as he took out some spare facial parts from his store and began adjusting them to custom fit. A comfortable silence filled the room for a while.

"It's incredible what you can do with your hands." The leader of the autobots was innocently looking down at the metal he was holding. "You must be so dexterous to adjust metal like that. I thought you used a press."

Ratchet smirked at the ego-boost. "Well, you know. After you're in a profession long enough the little things are effortless. I'm sure you understand, being an old model like me." Optimus smiled wide, showing off his shiny white dentals. Ratchet looked at him with surprise, knowing he was wrong about Optimus being an old model. What a face! "Wow, you're a regular poster-bot." Ratchet's jaw dropped as he realized what he'd just said. Nobody talked to Optimus Prime that way. No one even knew how he would react to such treatment.

Prime's smile softened and he seemed only slightly bashful. "You're a good friend for saying such a thing. But there's nothing like the talent you have. Here." Optimus stood and turned Ratchet to sit on the table instead. He took his left hand and began to rub his palm.

Ratchet's air valve hitched. "What… what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you a well-deserved hand-rub. Just relax and let someone else take care of you for a change."

"Well I uh…" Ratchet could barely form words as Optimus worked on his hand. He pressed the medic's palm open and then stretched each finger, putting pressure on the inner cables as he loosened the joints. It felt incredible. He grabbed Ratchet's index finger and pulled, sliding his hand away until the finger was free. Then he moved to the second and then to the third.

Ratchet felt heat begin to build in his engine. By the time Optimus had begun on his other hand, he was on fire inside. His fans whirred as they tried to cool him.

Optimus looked at him for a moment. "Am I doing a lousy job? Should I stop?"

"NO! I mean, no it's fine. You can keep going."

Ratchet bit his lip. He should have told him to stop. After all, too much longer and his spike would push right out in the open.

"Well look at that," Optimus said as he peered at Ratchet's index finger. "I think you have a piece of gravel wedged in the joint there. You don't feel that?"

"No. Where?"

"Let me just get it out," Optimus said, scratching at Ratchet's third knuckle. The sensation sent tingles down his posterior. "Gosh, it's really stuck. I'll just…" He bent forward and pressed his upper dentals gently into Ratchet's knuckle. Ratchet felt his interface panel shudder. He knew he couldn't let this continue.

"Don't worry about it I'll…"

Optimus had pressed his mouth over the knuckle, sucking in an attempt to remove the stone. Ratchet felt the pressure of his mouth, his glossa sliding over him. His interface panel slid open exposing his spike. Optimus looked down at it for the longest single second of Ratchet's life.

Then his eyes slid up to meet Ratchet's and he took his finger in his mouth. The smallest curve appeared in the corner of Optimus' lips. "You're doing this on purpose?" Ratchet said, utter disbelief overwhelming him. This wasn't happening. It couldn't happen.

Optimus' smile fell and he pulled Ratchet's finger out of his mouth. He watched him, keeping the hand so close that Ratchet could feel the wetness on his fingers growing cool from the air escaping Prime's oral vent. The slightly younger bot was cold then, and Ratchet realized he wasn't going to share the 'what' and 'why' of his actions. Ratchet would have to take it or leave it. He decided to take it.

He pressed his thumb against Optimus' mouth, and he opened. Ratchet let out an uncontrollable moan as Optimus took his whole thumb, slowly pumping it in and out of his mouth. His glossa pressed against the seams of his knuckles, dentals gently brushing as he moved. Ratchet grabbed Optimus' hip with his other hand, pulling him close to press the bot against his spike. He was already so close; it would only take a few thrusts to make him blow. In the midst of his ecstasy he felt disappointment that the other's interface panel was only slightly warm. But it was pushed to the back of his mind as he gripped Optimus' aft and bucked against him. Optimus took his index and middle finger in his mouth at once and Ratchet overloaded onto the other's stomach.

"Oh frag," Ratchet grunted, his forehead pressed against Optimus'. Optimus had a playful smile on his mouth as he kept the tip of Ratchet's index between his lips. "Well that was… unexpected."

"I'm assuming 'unexpected' means it was good?" Optimus inquired.

"Yes, definitely yes. But um, it didn't seem that way for you."

"I have my own kink. But that's why I know some kinks need a little extra time."

Ratchet couldn't help but smile appreciatively. No one, not ever, had done something like this for him. He slid off the table and went to a drawer to find linen. Optimus followed and leaned his hip against the counter. He dabbed his finger in the corner of the rosy lubricants on his stomach. Optimus reached for the linen but Ratchet pressed it against his stomach himself.

"Please allow me," he said, smiling as he cleaned the other. "You seem very relaxed."

"I suppose I am."

"Why did you do that?" Ratchet finally had to ask.

Optimus looked at him. "It's pretty simple. I like your demeanor. You're casual and personable, two traits that have never come naturally to me."

"You seem pretty casual now."

"You must be rubbing off on me, Ratchet."

The door slid open and Ironhide stepped in with a bot-sized mop and bucket. Ratchet hastily stuffed the dirty linen back in the drawer. Optimus' posture almost instantly straightened back to normal. "What's taking so long? Are you done with him yet?"

"We're almost finished." Under his breath he mumbled about forgetting to lock the door.

"Well I'm here to clean up my supposed mess. You're taking forever and I'm not coming back, so you'll have to deal with me while you work."

Ratchet sighed and led Optimus back to the table. He lifted the faceplate pieces and pressed them to the sides of the bot's jaw, listening closely for the electronic chirping sounds of the faceplate connecting correctly. Optimus closed the new faceplate and tapped it with a finger.

"Better than new."

"I'll miss seeing you without it," Ratchet said with his voice low. Ironhide was still across the room. "What do you think about taking this to my quarters?"

Optimus looked away. "I can't. Spike asked to meet with me today. That will be in ten minutes. I should be going."

Something suddenly dawned on Ratchet. "Hold on, did you say before that you had a kink of your own?"

"I don't know, did I?" Optimus played. He walked toward the door.

"Optimus, what about the rock?" Ratchet shouted after him. "Was the rock even real?"

"I think you know," Optimus called without looking back. The door shut behind him.

"What's all this about a rock?" Ironhide asked. Ratchet just shook his head.

To be continued…

I'll give you a faceplate for your thoughts on this chapter.