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There is a soft knock at the door, and Megatron smiles. "That would be Brimstone." Optimus is arranged into a slightly less embarrassing position, and the bot says, "You may enter, Brimstone."

The bot that enters is not what Optimus expected at all. He is certainly a Decepticon, all spikes and awkward looking frame, but very small and fragile as well. The bot has tiny little claws and a split wheel in his servos. Optimus has never seen a mech with two elbows in each arm, or two knees in each leg. The mech has a wheel in his torso, and the smallest sparkchamber he's ever seen that wasn't on a weaver. The mech licks his odd mouth and says, "You told me to come here, my lord?"

"Yes, Brimstone. I understand that your planet uses clothing for decoration?" Megatron strokes Optimus's frame lightly, and Spindle climbs up onto his shoulder. "I would like you to show us a few of the things you've created. Optimus has been considering a wing modification, but if you cannot construct a reasonable wardrobe for him and modify the things he owns, he will not consent to it." Megatron's tone lowers a bit, into something almost like a threat, "I am sure that I can trust in your ability to convince him of your skill."

Brimstone looks disappointed, but nods. "I'm not as good as a Haydon IV bot," the mech warns, reaching into his subspace, "but I can weave and sew." The bot takes out a few sets of chest wraps that are clearly meant for a Cybertronion frame, "I haven't made any for my new altmode yet, since I haven't been wearing clothing unless visiting my home planet. I only just got here, anyway." The bot takes out a few hats and a cloak and boots. "I don't make gloves, but I can learn if you want me to. I never really had a reason to use them." The bot waves his servos, showing off why, spinning the split wheels, "Fragging difficult to transform if I have on gloves."

Spindle looks at the clothing they're shown, humming thoughtfully, "Are you sewing zese by servo?"

The mech shifts, "Some of them? I mean, I don't have any equipment here. No expanded subspace."

"No? You should invest in one." Optimus sighs, "Your work is good enough. I will . . . accept the wing mod. Schedule an appointment with Hook." He turns to Brimstone, "I expect to online to a completed wing wrap and at least one altered cloak and chest wrap. I recommend that you start immediately. I will not be happy if I online and find that I have to go naked." Especially with his modified chest plate. "Get to work." He lays back on the medical berth and sighs. "I'm still not sure that agreeing to the modifcation is the right thing to do. Wingmods are permanent modifications. He'll need to rip out most of my relays to get the wings seated properly."

Megatron kisses him as Spindle hurries over to Brimstone, pulling out various fabrics to use for the clothing. Megatron murmurs softly in his audio, rubbing his sides, "But you will be able to fly with me, my bonded, and I know exactly how to make you overload with just the wings. You will keep them covered up, and that will keep them extra sensitive to my touches when we take you to the berth."

He revs a tiny bit, blushing, "I'm glad you're seeing the bright side to the clothing."

Megatron kisses him, "I am willing to have the wing wraps, since I can just tug on a lacing, to make it fall away to the floor. You will be so lovely at my side, my consort."

Another klik or two of waiting, and Hook comes into the room, narrowing his optics at Spindle and Brimstone working with fabric on the floor. "Wonderful. You've brought even more mechs into my medical bay. How may I serve you this sol?"

Megatron picks up the wings and offers them to Hook, "Optimus will be having these permanently installed into his frame. You may begin whenever you are ready. Please use less sedative this time." The medic takes the wings and Optimus rolls onto his front, undoing his chest wrap carefully, so Brimstone cannot see his clear chestplates. He does not want that reported back to Oil Slick.

Hook rolls his optics, adjusting the amount of sedative, "Should I work on the heels so they're fully functional, as well?"

Optimus peers over his shoulder, lifting up his leg, "Yes, I'd like that."

Megatron revs happily, rubbing his lightbar so his spark pulses brightly, "Good. Maybe we can go flying after you have everything installed? I'd love to-"

He gives the mech a dark look, "Not in that outfit you aren't. You'll shame us all. We need to make you better clothing."

Hook injects the sedative into his fuel line, "You can talk about this later, I have things to do."

His processor goes foggy, and he knows no more.

Onlining this time is a strange experience. His systems all tingle, and a dozen alerts warn him that new operating software and code have been installed in him. He shifts a bit, and his wings-his wings-tremble on his back. Optimus jerks upright, forgetting for a moment that he had agreed to this. Strong servos catch him, and hold him like the most precious crystal ever created. He relaxes in Megatron's grasp. "I . . sorry. I forgot where I was. The wings are . . disorienting." They keep sending him all sorts of signals that he wasn't aware were important. Wind speed and direction. The temperature of the air and the humidity.

His ailerons flex back and forth restlessly.

Megatron presses a kiss to the base of them, and he shivers with the sudden sensory rush. Megaton smiles, "You look so beautiful, Optimus. Absolutely beautiful. Would you like to put on the clothing Brimstone and Scalpel made for you?"

His wings shudder, moving away from the thought of having things on them, "I... I don't know if..." He rubs his optics, "They're so sensitive." He isn't sure how he's going to concentrate if they're constantly being touched by cloth.

Megatron smiles, rubbing the edge, as if to just watch him shiver in pleasure, "I know, my consort. Isn't it wonderful? We will have to get you used to it, but for now, just enjoy it."

He sits up, and there's a seeker in the medical bay.

A seeker.

Starscream, staring right at him.

"The trick to wearing wraps on your wings is keeping the fabric tight enough that it doesn't rub against your sensors," Starscream says primly, his optics not even looking at Optimus's nervously pulsing spark. "Megatron was wise enough to ask me for my help. I know much better than that silly Brimstone how to properly dress a seeker, even if their frame is truckbot-based." He picks up a long length of cloth and begins tightly wrapping it around one of Optimus's wings.

He relaxes into the touch, his sensors no longer pinging him nervously about things he doesn't understand, and he offlines his optics happily. The mech's movements may be rough, but his claws are gentle and soothing, not the least bit painful. When he's all wrapped up, he looks around, "Where is Brimstone?"

Starscream sits next to him, putting on the chestwrap, "Sunstorm took off with him. He wants clothing, and Brimstone agreed to teach him how to make it. Sycophant has had his optics on your little minibot for awhile, and has decided this is the perfect opportunity." The mech moves Spindle away from them, adjusting Optimus's hat to a more pleasing angle to a seeker's optic, "Wants to look his best, and doesn't realize that he hasn't got enough fabric to do it. He'll be back soon enough, and we'll get him a loom and raw materials."

"Do seekers weave?" he asks, because most of the seekers on Haydon-and there were very few of them-paid others to weave for them. They did a bit of sewing and a little bit of servo-woven lace, but nothing complex, and they all seemed to despise looms. In fact, they often chose to buy machine-made fabrics, because the symmetry was more perfect. "More importantly, does he intend to stay in his earth mode?"

Starscream sneers, "I hope not. If he does, I am going to have to have words with him about what is appropriate for seekers to do around other bots. We do not keep organic-created forms. That is just disgusting."

Megatron tugs him into his large lap, "I think you look fine in your current form, Starscream, even if you do look much better with your sharp points and curves in your Cybertronion mode." Optimus is kissed gently, "This is why you have the classic seeker wings, my consort. I do love them so very much."

Starscream makes a face, "And he got you to put on the clear chestplate without the metal backing. He never got me to do that, even as a temporary mod. I could never do that."

Megatron rubs Optimus's chest, optics dim, "The model type onlines without the metal backing. It is put on by medicbots that don't want sparklings showing off their sparks. I wonder if our sparklings will be little truckbots or not."

"Nein," Scalpel purrs, stroking Megatron's cheek. "Zey vill not. Veaver code is dominant. Ze sparklings ve spark vill be veavers." He tips his head to one side, "If you vere to spark viz Optimus, you might have a truckbot. But I doubt it. Spaceship code also tends to be dominant. If a sparkling vas to online viz flier code but vizout a frame to support zat flight, it vould not survive vell. Even I know zat."

Starscream is silent for a moment, and then he say, his tone sorrowful, "If a seeker sparkling onlines without wings, we attempt to mod them. If the mods do not take . . then we allow the sparkling a peaceful offlining. It is more compassionate than the insanity they would suffer and the self-harm they inflict when they get old enough to know sky-hunger."

Optimus puts a cautious servo on the bot's arm, unsure if the comfort is welcome, and murmurs softly, "It doesn't happen often, and you've been able to mod almost all of them." Even he knows that, stuck out on the far edge of the galaxy on Haydon IV.

Starscream picks up Spindle, petting him with a clawtip gently, a soothing gesture Optimus knows well, "Yes... it is still." The mech looks away, but allows Megatron to tug him close and hold him.

Sparklings are a sensitive subject, and it is clear that Starscream feels more than a little left out of the conversation.

Optimus changes the subject, hoping to distract, "What all did Brimstone make for the clothing?"

"You vere out for some time, so ve had long enough to modify zree of your cloaks, five of your chestvraps, and he made two ving-vraps for you." Spindle drops to the floor and pushes a pile of cloth towards him. "He also made you a pair of boots, but zey are slut boots," Spindle says dismissively, "Und he made zem so zey flare out and show off little flashes of your peds as you valk, like a prostibot advertising his vares." Spindle plucks at the boots with disdain, "I do not zink you should vear zem unless you vant to be zought of as a shameless hussy."

He sighs softly, "They're all I have, Spindle. Besides, Megatron likes to carry me. I won't have to worry about flashing my heels as I walk, since he'll be carrying me around as I wear them."

Spindle huffs irritably, "I do not like it. Ve vill make you better vones as soon as possible. I can not allow you to go out like zat. It is simply shameless."

He pulls out one of the cloaks, frowning at it, "Why does this have lace up sides now in addition to the holes for my wings?" He has no need for lacing on the side of a cloak, no one does. It opens in the front, and you put it on and off like that. There is no need for a way to open it on the sides like that, even if they can be unlaced to slip over his wings.

Megatron kisses him, "So it matches the chestwraps he modified, of course. You can see on the one you're wearing now that it has the lacing up the sides, like we talked about. I can just tug on one of the laces," the bot does so, "and there it goes." The mech's optics dim as Optimus's spark is exposed again. "So lovely."

No wonder Spindle is accusing him of looking like a hussy.

He does.

Optimus grabs at the wrap and laces it back up carefully. "You are a pervert. I have my wings and my chestplate. Now I expect you to uphold your end of the bargain. We are going to work on your clothes now, and you are not going to complain, and you are not going to try and toss me in a berth immediately. We have work to do, and we can interface later."

Megatron makes a small protesting sound, "But that can wait until we have the better fabric, can't it? We have time to-"

He shifts his wings, trying to figure out how to put on his cloak, "We need to modify the one you have on to see how to best make it so you're most maneuverable. You said you didn't like how it restricted your arm, so we need to fix that. You are not allowed to complain about this, remember? That was the deal."

"We have three solar-"

"We have very little time, and I want to have this done. I want to have a workable outfit for you to wear for your negotiation with Ultra. You need to have that soon, so I want to have one for you by tomorrow. That means I have to cobble together one for you out of what I have with me."

There is exactly one cloak that he can make with what he has, and it is a cloak he has sworn he would never commit himself to making.

The cloak is so intricately beaded, laced, and decorated that he can make it out of dozens of smaller bolts of cloth without it being noticed, but he is going to stab his optics out with frustration before he's done, and Spindle is going to end up offlining them both to put them out of their misery.

Megatron likely won't notice at all.

Optimus already feels a processor-ache coming on. "Let's get you in the room so we can start fitting you for the cloak."

Megatron gently finishes putting his cloak on him, adjusting it and slipping his hood over his hat, "If that's what you want. I am more than willing to let you." The mech takes the boots Brimstone made, and laces them up. "I just wish you would let me undress you when we get into our berthroom, my consort."

He lets the mech put his other boot on, frowning in disapproval, "That is not happening."

Megatron smiles, kissing him and picking him and Spindle up, "Can't blame me for trying, my bonded."

He can and he does. Optimus pulls Spindle closer and mutters into his audio, "We're making him a Brixian Web cloak."

Spindle gasps with dismay, "Nein! Ve vill not. I refuse to vork on vone of zose. You vill have to do it yourself, meine Optimus. I vill-"

"You are going to braid the sleipnir hair into decorative cord and weave what's left of my crystal beads into a fringe." He's not letting Spindle wiggle his way out of this one. "It's going to be a hooded version of the cloak as well. I am going to delegate weaving the gold thread in to you." The patterning would be too small for Optimus to easily do.

Spindle whines unhappily, "Nein, nein, nein, nein! I vill not do it! It vill be ze offlinigng of ze boz of us, und if vill be all your fault. I vill not do it."

Megatron kisses them, "Is something wrong, my consorts?"

Spindle hits his tiny servos against the bot's mouth, "You just had to be so high ranking, didn't you? Vhy didn't you have any good fabric here? Ve can not do zis. Ve can not."

Megatron gives them a confused look as they head through the hallways, "I don't understand what you mean. I am on a planet that no one has every been on before this. You are lucky we even had what you made what I'm wearing. It is very comfortable, and I could just-"

"You vould shame us is anyvone saw you in zis. You vill not be leaving ze berzroom as ve vork. You need to be zere to stay for fittings, anyvay."

"You Haydon bots have such strange rules," Megatron says, his tone amused. "But I will humor you both for now. If you insist on dressing me, then I will allow you to dress me. You do not have to -"

"We have to make it perfect, or we will shame both ourselves and you," Optimus says angrily, pushing Megatron onto the berth. "You will sit quietly while we work. You can have a datapad to read." He pulls one from his subspace, on the various cuts of cloaks and when they are to be worn by which models. "Read that. At least you'll learn something while we work on your cloak."

Megatron pulls out a much larger datapad, "I will read thi-"

He pushes his datapad into Megatron's servos, "You will read this, and you will learn something about cloaks."

The mech pauses, then carefully transfers the data over to the larger pad, "Very well, I will read that. But I will read it on something that is better suited for my size." The bot leans over, kissing him gently, "You look lovely, Optimus."

He gives the bot an irritated look, and starts to spread out the various bolts of fabric they need to sew together. "Compliments mean nothing when I have work to do."

Rage blinds Optimus, and he snarls, throwing a bolt of cloth on the ground, "You fragging aft! I can't believe you're making me make this for you! I'm going to take this sewing needle and stab it in your optics!" He waves the needle around wildly, starting to lunge towards Megatron, who is blinking at him with surprise-only to be stopped by terribly familiar voices from the com.

"Sparkling! I can't believe you got bonded and didn't tell us!"

He pauses his attack, looking over at the com over his wings, "Papas?"

They gasp, "Sparkling! Your bonded... How could you let him wea-"

"Frag!" he curses, shoving Megatron out of the room, "Out, out, out, out! I told you that you can't be seen like this, but you insist on shaming us, anyway!"

His bonded has spent the entire sol dealing with him sewing tiny and intricate beadwork onto large bolts of fabric, all the while dealing with how it hangs properly on his large frame. Then had to deal with a sudden attack with a sewing needle. Megatron had long since passed the time he dealt with this with amusement, and took this for the escape it is, rushing for the door he is finally allowed out of.

"Did we raise you wrong, sparkling?" Papa Steelbolt asks, his expression terribly sad. "Why would you not invite your own creators to your bonding? We had to be told by Oil Slick that you had engaged in a triple-bond with Lord Megatron and Spindle. How could you do this to us?"

Optimus rubs his optics wearily, "It was . . not like that. I onlined after being botnapped, and my wrap was ripped to shreds. You know how it goes. I am now bonded to them both. If I'm lucky, he'll agree to a small public ceremony later, and if he does, you'll both be guests of honor. I promise you that, papas. Until then," he feels tears of frustration welling up in his optics, "I am making him a Brixian Web Cloak. He has no suitable fabrics and I . . papas, I am not . . ."

"Shush, sparkling," Papa Powerdrive hushes him, tone sympathetic. "You can manage it. You just have to take it one patch at a time."

Spindle climbs up on his shoulder, chirping unhappily, "Ve have been vorking nonstop, und are almost done. Ve only have about zree patches to go, und ve are done. I have been vorking on his chestvrap, since I have finished his hat, but I am not going to be happy about zis. I do not vant to keep vorking on zis/ Ve have gone on all night, and zen ze seekers showed up-"

Papa Steelbolt gives them a confused look, "You had seekers show up? How could they have-"

Optimus rubs Spindle's side for a moment before moving him to his arms to cuddle, "They came in to help. We had to send them away, papas. I hate this stupid tradition that we can't accept help for dressing our bonded. We will offline if we have to make everything ourselves."

"There are two of you. You will survive." Papa Steelbolt pauses, and then adds more compassionately, "You are allowed to buy pre-made things, so long as you modify them significantly afterwards. It is how your Papa and I managed to keep each other clothed during the first vorn of our bond. We visited the thrift stores frequently and then modified the cloaks and wraps we purchased. It will save you significant time, if that is still a concern for you, sparkling." He sighs, "I suppose that your . . that Megatron did not have a bonding cloth? That makes it a bit more difficult, but you should still be able to modify old things for him and have it count."

He cuddles Spindle, and his tiny love clutches him unhappily, "We will be getting actual fabric that will fit him soon. I-it will be easier then." He clambers into an oversized chair, made for Megatron, not for a bot his size at all, "I'm just glad that we can use things that he's hunted or that his Decepticons have gotten for him. He's also bought Spindle an outfit, but he won't be able to wear it until the vorn is over."

Spindle peeks his head out, mandibles clicking in excitement, "It is so pretty, I vill look so nice. I can not vait."

Papa Powerdrive tilts his head, "Did he get you an outfit?"

He shakes his head, "You can already see what he got me, papas." He shakes his wings, drawing attention to them, and smiles, "And thruster heels. I can fly." He doesn't mention the restraints, since that is not something he is going to mention to his creators. Ever.

Steelbolt and Powerdrive exchange a look, "You know, if it was less than consensual, we can offer you asylum on our planet, and have your bonding-"

"No. We are going to negotiate a peaceful end to the war and then clutch with Spindle's clan." Optimus looks down shyly, "We'll make sure you have lots of grandsparklings to love, papas. I'm sure you'll both be welcome if you want to visit New Kaon, when we move there. I hope you come visit us. I don't know how often I'll be able to come visit you, since that will mean leaving my family behind, and any duties that I have as his consort."

"Are you sure, sparkling?" Steelbolt looks very firm, "I am more than willing to come kick his aft for you."

He shakes his head, still feeling stressed by the beadwork, "No. I... Just let me sit with you for awhile. We need to finish this, and I just..."

Steelbolt touches the screen, "I'll send you lace, sparkling. You can have as much as you need. I'm glad that you have so much beading. How did you manage to get so much on such a short notice?"

Optimus rubs his optics, "There's a lab here. His scientists have been working on that instead of other things. It is melted crystals and mixed metals with silicates and other things. We're doing rather well, and getting it done quickly. Like Spindle said, about three left, then we're finished."

"Yes, you're doing wonderfully," Steelbolt reassures him, and then adds, "I wonder why you decided on a Brixian Web Cloak. Considering his status as a warrior leader, I would have expected you to make a Kaonite war cloak. A bit provocative and indecent by our standards, certainly, but it would have been acceptable considering his heritage. You-"

The rest of his papas words trail off as Optimus stares blankly at the floor, his optics lubricating.

He could have made a war cloak.

It would have been a patchy mess intentionally, meant to show that the bot had been through many battles, and it would have taken two megacycles.

Tops.

He bursts into sobs.

Spindle soothes him, nuzzling him lovingly, "It is okay, Optimus. Ve are just tired. Ve can make him a var cloak later. Ve are doing zis to have him vear for ze negotiations, remember? Ve can not have him go out into public forums in a var cloak and negotiate peace!"

He wipes at his optics, still feeling terrible, "It is symbolic and you know it. It just means that he is used to fighting, and that he will be fighting hard in his terms. Not even Ultra does very well against the hologram, I bet he does even better than that thing. I mean, I only got as good as terms as I did against it, since I'm a model type he likes. All my advantages are gone since I'm bonded to him now."

"Not all of them," Powerdrive chides him. "There are many things a bondmate can do to make a bot's life more or less pleasant. You will find that you should have amazing leverage when it comes to berthroom activities and-mmph," he frowns at Steelbolt, who has a servo clamped over his mouth.

"Our sparkling does not need to hear about how you make me barter for things in the berth, Powerdrive. You should not encourage this behavior in him either."

Optimus bites his lip and tries to clear that image from his processor. It's almost as bad as when he onlined to find that Oil Slick's creators had left them a pad on safe bondage practices. "Thank you for the advice, but please don't offer any more."

Spindle's mandibles click together thoughtfully, "Ve vill keep zat in mind, zough." The weaver cuddles him, "But Megatron seems to like to spoil us, ja?"

The mech had been constantly trying to ply them with various expensive energon treats, and asking their opinions on what expensive things they had wanted. It would have been very wonderful, if they hadn't been so busy working on the cloak. "He does. I think he likes that I was willing to do this," he doesn't say his wings, not wanting to explain to his creators about it, "and he did say he wants a large family, which weavers make a certainty."

Spindle moves up, kissing him, "He is a good bonded."

His creators sigh, "I'm glad you finally accepted Spindle. The weavers are a very wonderful clan." Powerdrive frowns, "Even if you are also bonded to Megatron. I hope it works out for you, sparkling. I don't want you to end up miserable."

"I won't." Optimus won't let himself be too miserable. He always has Spindle, and he'll end the war. That is enough to celebrate, even if he shares no love with Megatron, and is uncertain if he'll ever love him.

He's uncertain if he even loves Spindle. But he cares for the bot enough to want to be with him and make a family. He will tell the bot he loves him, because it makes Spindle happy. Besides, his spark does warm at the thought of his little love in his arms, and that is enough for him.

Steeldrive nods, "As much as we want to talk to you longer, sparkling, we really can't. It is incredibly expensive to com you from so far away. We love you."

He presses his servo to the screen, "I love you, too." He smiles as they disconnect the call, then sighs down at the cloak, "I don't want to do this anymore."

Spindle nuzzles him, "Ve can do zis, meine Optimus. Ve are almost finished. Vhen ve are done, ve can just sit on Megatron's lap und let Ultra Magnus deal viz him vhile being petted und told how vonderful ve are."

Being praised and massaged does seem like a very suitable reward, but he still doesn't want to go back to work. He sighs, and nods, "Let's do this."

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