A/N: that's it, folks. Final chapter. Thanks for going on this angsty fluffy journey with me! You're awesome ^^
*Wheeljack?*
The inventor groaned. *Slaggit Ratchet, do you know what time it is?*
*Sure I do.* Ratchet laughed. *Do you? Did I wake you, lovebird?*
Wheeljack checked his chrono. Midday. *Slagger.*
*Yeah, probably,* Ratchet agreed. *Listen, how are you two holding up?*
*We've been in recharge since last night,* Wheeljack replied, turning to see a very peaceful Mirage still recharging behind him. *Do I need to wake him for energon?*
*Nah, he's not in dire straits. He was still very high-strung when he left here, though, how did you get him to relax and recharge so fast?*
Wheeljack could feel himself blushing. He knew Ratchet would tease him relentlessly now. *I guess we tired each other out?*
There was silence for a moment. Then Ratchet laughed. *That is about slagging time! You've been needing that for so long that I'm almost surprised your array hasn't made the decision for you before now.*
*Arrays didn't come into it,* Wheeljack defended himself. His cheeks were still burning, and he could see the embarrassed pink tinge to his helmfin lights. He was suddenly grateful Mirage was still out of it. *Just tactile and hardline.*
Ratchet was suddenly serious again. He even sounded a bit – impressed? No, that couldn't be right. *He let you connect via hardline?*
*He asked for it,* Wheeljack replied. *Shouldn't I have done that?*
*He wouldn't have asked for it if he didn't want it,* Ratchet said with conviction. *And there's no medical reason why you shouldn't, either. To be honest, I'm just surprised he let you. I have difficulties convincing him to even accept a medical hardline, and I know for a fact that the only one he lets work with his processor is Jazz. For him to let you in like that – well, he must really trust you.* His voice softened. *I think he really cares for you, 'Jackie.*
*I love him,* Wheeljack said simply. He reached out, one finger hovering over Mirage's cheek strut. The spy's optics onlined, still dim, but brightening, and Wheeljack let his hand rest against Mirage's face. He lifted the other hand to his own temple, indicating a comm call, and Mirage nodded.
*I know. But 'Jackie…* Ratchet hesitated, before plunging on. *Do you trust him? Do you trust what you two have enough to entrust yourself to him? All of you?*
Mirage's hand moved up to cover Wheeljack's, and the spy smiled softly at him. Wheeljack's spark spun happily in his chassis.
*Wheeljack,* Ratchet repeated. *Have you shown him yet?*
*…No,* Wheeljack admitted. His thumb caressed Mirage's cheek strut, and those blue optics shone up at him with something close to adoration. *I haven't.*
*You know you won't be able to let go and trust him fully until you show him, Wheeljack,* Ratchet said quietly. *You need to take that chance.*
*I almost did yesterday while we were connected,* Wheeljack admitted. *But I couldn't do it.*
*Well, during interface is probably not the best time,* Ratchet chuckled. "Sooner would be better than later, though." He switched back into medic mode. *Let me know if you need anything, or if either of you have questions, all right?*
*Sure thing, Ratch',* Wheeljack agreed. Mirage was kissing his palm now, and he really just wanted to give the spy all his attention. *Talk to you later.*
The line went quiet.
"Hey, you," Mirage said, his voice soft. "What was wrong? You felt a bit upset."
Wheeljack glanced down to where they were still connected. He'd forgotten all about that – the feeling of Mirage in the back of his mind, a calm, kind presence, just felt natural now.
"That was Ratchet," he explained. "He wanted to hear how we were doing."
Mirage kissed his palm again. "That's not what made you upset."
"No, it isn't." Wheeljack sighed. "Ratchet wants me to take my mask off."
Mirage sat up, frowning. "I don't like that he pressures you on this."
"It's not pressure, not like that," Wheeljack disagreed. "He knows I still feel insecure and unsure, and that I won't be able to trust what we have until I've shown you all of me."
Mirage let go of his hand and cupped his cheek instead, putting their forehelms together. "If you want to show me, you can. But if you don't, you don't have to." He kissed Wheeljack's mask briefly and smiled. "That reminds me, I have something for you. But first I think we need to disconnect. As pleasant as it is to have you in my mind, we'll be able to move more freely without this."
Wheeljack nodded, reaching down when the spy did to disconnect his cable from Mirage's port and coil it up. The loss was instant.
"What's the surprise?" he asked, shifting around to sit as close to Mirage as he could get.
Mirage smiled. "I made you something." He reached into his subspace, and pulled out a box. "I hope you don't mind, but I talked to Ratchet about this before I made them. He said they may work better for you." He handed the box over to Wheeljack. "I hope you like them."
Wheeljack untied the ribbon around the thin silvery metal. When the lid came off, it revealed neat little rows of gelled energon.
"Candies!" Wheeljack grinned widely, the light of his helmfins bouncing off Mirage's plating. "You made these for me? Seriously?"
Mirage nodded, snuggling in against Wheeljack's side. "I thought they might be easier for you than the liquid energon. And they're tastier, as well." He pointed. "The square ones have either copper or cadmium shavings in them. The round ones have silver or mercury."
Wheeljack itched to try one. "I haven't had jellies since before we left Cybertron. This is amazing. Thank you." He pressed his mask against the side of Mirage's head in a mock-up kiss. "When did you have the chance to pick these up? Didn't you come straight here from medbay yesterday?"
Mirage shrugged. Even that was an elegant motion, and Wheeljack let his hand trace a gorgeous dark shoulder. "The box has been sitting safely in my subspace for a while. I promise they still taste good. They keep for months if stored properly."
Wheeljack stared at him. "You carried a box of candies in your subspace for weeks while infiltrating the Decepticon base?"
"Yes." Mirage giggled. "I had the capacity to carry it, so Jazz didn't object. It was a physical reminder that you were waiting for me. Plus," and his grin turned mischievous, "if push had come to shove, I could have used it as an impromptu fire bomb. The round ones are made from high-grade, so they would have made a pretty distraction."
Wheeljack couldn't stop himself. He laughed out loud, leaning his head against Mirage's. "Mirage, I love you. You're amazing."
That earned him a pleased squeak and two dark arms around his neck, Mirage nuzzling happily against his face. "You deserve everything, Wheeljack."
He didn't say that he loved him back, Wheeljack noticed. Not that he doubted that there were strong feelings involved, and that Mirage cared deeply for him.
But it made him doubt himself just a little more.
Mirage let him go and stood gracefully, walking towards the nightstand full of energon cubes. "I'd love to hear what you think of those when you've had a chance to try them," he said lightly. "I can make you more if you like them."
Wheeljack looked from the candies to Mirage's dark back, Ratchet's words ringing in his head.
Aw, pit. Ratchet, you're right as usual. And he deserves that I try.
He deserves everything, too.
With a soft click, his facemask detached.
Mirage froze.
Wheeljack put his mask away, hands trembling slightly, and picked up one of the square candies.
It melted in his mouth, slowly, letting him close his mouth as much as possible around it and just enjoy the flavor. Not a drop escaped.
Mirage kept still, a frozen statue at the end of Wheeljack's bed. Wheeljack couldn't even tell if he was venting.
He swallowed the remnant of the candy. "These are delicious, love. And so much easier to eat." He stood slowly, broadcasting his every move. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Mirage's voice was almost inaudible. "Do you… Do you wish to put your mask back on?"
"Yes," Wheeljack admitted. "But I'm not going to. Ratchet was right, love. I need to know you accept this part of me, or I won't be able to trust what we have. And I really, really want to trust this."
Tentatively, nervously, oh so carefully, he reached out and touched Mirage's hand. "If you don't want to look at me, I understand. But I'm asking you to try."
Primus, his spark was pulsating madly. If Mirage left now –
No, he refused to even consider it. He wouldn't think beyond this moment.
He couldn't bear thinking beyond this moment.
Mirage took his hand, and started turning around. The movement was infitesimally slow, almost glacial, and it took more than a full minute before he had turned enough to face Wheeljack. Even then, he was looking down. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Wheeljack sighed. "I need to know that my scars won't be standing between us anymore, 'Raj. Regardless of the consequences."
"I've told you before," Mirage said, and it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Wheeljack, "that this doesn't matter to me." He chuckled. "I guess we'll get to put that to the test now, won't we?" He in-vented deeply. Then he lifted his head and let his optics focus on Wheeljack's face.
Wheeljack held still, bearing the scrutiny. Mirage's wide optics trailed over his jaw, across the pitted metal of his cheeks, his ruined upper lip, the large open gap splitting his chin.
For a few moments, no one said anything. Wheeljack's spark was pulsating hard enough for it to hurt.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mirage lifted a trembling hand towards Wheeljack's face. "May I…?"
"Yes," Wheeljack murmured. "As much as you need to."
Cool, gentle fingers traced his jaw, from one helmfin to the other. Mirage touched his cheek, fingertips stroking the ruined metal, before gently ghosting across his lump of a nasal ridge.
He left the lips for last. By then Wheeljack's eyes were dimming, his sensors almost overwhelmed by the pleasant touch to an area that never did anything but ache. When Mirage's fingers met Wheeljack's lips, the inventor shuddered.
Mirage paused. "Bad?"
Wheeljack didn't dare look at him. Instead, he let his optics offline. "No. Please don't stop."
The fingers traced his lower lip next, moving over the soft metal of intact lip plates and the broken surfaces of his scars with equal care.
When the entirety of his lower face had been explored and mapped, Mirage stopped. "All right," he said softly. "I've decided. Will you look at me?"
Reluctantly, afraid, Wheeljack did as he asked. Mirage's blue optics met his. To Wheeljack's surprise, there was no trace of disgust or abhorrence anywhere.
"I was right," Mirage continued, his voice still that soft tone. "This doesn't matter to me. This won't make me give up on us. And I want to promise you something." His hand came back up, resting against Wheeljack's cheek. "I won't ask Ratchet to fix you. I won't tell you to put your mask on if you prefer it off." He moved forward, leaning in until his forehead was resting against Wheeljack's. "This won't make a difference for us."
Wheeljack barely heard what Mirage said. There was a hissing in his audials, his spark was almost vibrating. This couldn't be real, could it?
Could it?
"Wheeljack," Mirage prompted, meeting his optics again. "Can I try something?"
"Wheeljack." Mirage needed his lover to look at him again. This felt like standing at the edge of a precipice. Wheeljack was putting up a brave front, but if Mirage had been a betting mech he would have put his credits on the mech before him being terrified. And Mirage really, really wanted to prove to him that that fear was groundless. "Can I try something?"
Wheeljack nodded, eyes still wide, ruined jaw tense.
Mirage let his hands rest against Wheeljack's cheeks again. There was a softness to the ruined metal, like every hard edge of Wheeljack's face had been burned away, leaving only fuzzy smoothness behind.
It was actually pleasant to touch. Not that Wheeljack would believe him if he said so right now.
"This doesn't matter." He would keep saying that until Wheeljack believed him. "I can still see you in there."
It was unbearably sappy, but it worked. Wheeljack relaxed infitesimally. And that was a good thing, considering that what Mirage was planning to do next would probably make him tense again.
The upper lip had less damage than the lower. So that was the one Mirage pressed his own lips to.
Wheeljack made a noise that could only be described as a squeak, and Mirage let him pull away slightly.
"You – you can't," Wheeljack sputtered. "I don't – that's – they're ugly!"
Mirage couldn't deny that. Still, it wasn't the whole truth. "But you're not," he replied, taking care to keep his tone gentle. "Someone taught you that these negate your worth. That's simply not true. You're so much more than your scars, dearest." His fingers rubbed tiny circles over Wheeljack's cheeks.
"You're really okay with this." Wheeljack's voice was full of wonder.
"I really am," Mirage confirmed. "I'm not running, Wheeljack." He let his mouth meet his lover's again, suckling lightly at the part that was intact. "You, my darling, are stuck with me."
Wheeljack groaned, throwing his arms around Mirage and pulling him closer. "You're really not scared off…!"
There it was. There was the hesitant elation he had been hoping for.
Wheeljack pushed his face in against Mirage's neck, a suspicious wetness on his cheeks. He was clinging to him now, as if Mirage was the only thing keeping him upright, and Mirage decided to back them both towards the berth. He didn't quite trust himself to be strong enough to hold the inventor up if he collapsed.
Wheeljack dumped down on the berth gracelessly, pulling Mirage down with him. "I love you," he murmured, pushing his bare face against Mirage's plating. "Primus, Mirage, I love you."
Mirage's spark thrilled to the words. They were so much more than he deserved.
They ended up lying next to each other with their legs intertwined. Wheeljack kept his mask off and his optics on Mirage, chewing obediently on each candy Mirage slipped into his mouth.
"I believe I must make more of these," he jested, smiling as Wheeljack's grin stretched on his ruined lips. "Did you know that you have dimples when you smile like that?"
"I do?" Wheeljack's fingers rose to his pitted cheek. "Huh. I do."
"You really didn't know?"
Wheeljack took his hand, kissing each finger. "Haven't had much cause to smile without my mask on."
Mirage smiled. "Well, I aim to change that."
"You already are." Wheeljack looked up at him, a wry question in his optics. "Hey, Mirage. Can I try something?"
When Mirage nodded, smiling at his words echoed back at him, Wheeljack took the box of candies and put it aside. Then he placed a hand on Mirage's neck and pulled him down.
Mirage expected a kiss. But instead, Wheeljack nuzzled down the line of his jaw towards his throat cables. Then warm suction encased his main energon cable, and Mirage gasped.
"Well, what do you know," Wheeljack murmured. "Turns out my mouth is still good for something."
"Primus!" Mirage gasped as his throat was nipped and bitten, a smooth glossa soothing the sting. "I'll say!"
Wheeljack laughed, making Mirage's entire frame tingle. He didn't object when the inventor pushed him onto his back, his mouth moving down to lick across Mirage's chest. His fans clicked on.
Before he let himself surrender to the touches, Mirage opened a comm channel to Ratchet.
*Mirage? Something wrong?*
*Not at all,* Mirage replied, suppressing a gasp as Wheeljack's fingers teased into his seams. *I just wanted to tell you that the gelled candies worked.*
*That's good,* Ratchet said in clear relief. *I'm glad. Did he show you?*
*He did,* Mirage confirmed. He grinned, a hint of the playfulness that had heralded so many pranks back in the Towers coming over him. He let his breathlessness slip into his tone. *And I'm not disappointed. Wheeljack's mouth may be ugly, but he definitely knows how to use it.*
Silence greeted his statement, and then Ratchet laughed. *Good for you. Consider that all the details I'll ever need. Enjoy yourselves. Ratchet out.*
Oh, I aim to. Mirage met Wheeljack's insistent mouth with his own and lost himself in his lover.
The Autobots of the Ark, it turned out, could get used to anything. It just took time.
The first time Mirage smiled as he entered the rec room, people stared at him. Even more when he walked over to where Wheeljack was sitting and kissed his mask. (Wheeljack still wouldn't take that off in public. He probably never would. And Mirage was okay with that.)
The first time Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had sat down with him to refuel had caused some stares as well. The twins didn't care, though, and Mirage soon learned that Sunstreaker's wit was as dry and cutting as his own could be, and that Sideswipe's skills with energon did indeed rival what the Towers had produced.
He counted them among his friends now.
Wheeljack was happy as well. He walked with more confidence, had more faith in his own skills and authority. It had taken him some time to relax properly with his mask off, but now he took it off as soon as he entered their shared quarters.
Those had also taken him a while to grasp. Mirage had moved all his things in and actually lived in Wheeljack's room for a while before the inventor had finally looked up one day, taken in the crowded space and immediately sent off a request to Prowl for larger quarters. They'd moved in the week after.
Life was good.
"What are you thinking of?" Wheeljack asked lazily. His presence in Mirage's mind was calm, content, happy.
Mirage turned, taking care not to stretch their cables too much. "I'm thinking about how lucky I am. To have found you."
"That goes both ways." Wheeljack grinned, the dimples in his cheeks showing.
Mirage adored those dimples.
"So you're happy?" Wheeljack asked, nuzzling Mirage's cheek.
"I am very happy," Mirage confirmed, turning to kiss him and sending tiny little datapackets across their connection. "I don't think I could be happier." He smiled against Wheeljack's mouth. "I love you, Wheeljack."
"Well, that's good," Wheeljack replied lightly, as if it wasn't the very first time Mirage had said those words. "Because I'm not going anywhere." He licked Mirage's helm vent, clever glossa dipping in between the slats. "When is your next shift?"
"Not until tomorrow." And Mirage owed Jazz a favor for that. "Gives us plenty of time."
"Gives us all the time in the world." Wheeljack kissed him again. "Love you, 'Raj."
All the time in the world. Mirage liked the sound of that.
It sounded just right.