Chap 3

His entire body tingled as he felt the soft touch of lips brush against his. At first, they were gentle as if testing the waters. But once reciprocated, the kiss became more demanding. A lower lip was captured and sucked- then even nibbled. Drift made making out a truly intoxicating experience!

Mewling softly, Drift flicked his tongue against his lovers', then pulled away quickly. "You're right. The cake does taste quite delicious."

"Want more?" Ratchet leaned to steal another kiss- hoping to feel the warmth of his lover's mouth on his, but instead felt the stickiness of cake icing. Drift's lips were not waiting for him, but rather another chunk of cake.

"You don't have to ask twice, Doc-bot." An optic winked as another mouthful of the cake slid passed the medic's lips.

Dang it- that's not what he meant! He wanted more kisses, not cake! Despite this, Ratchet chewed, it was too late to do anything else. The pattern continued: eat cake, belly gets rubbed, then a delightful kiss to finish it off. But the kiss always ended much too soon for Ratchet's liking.

"You're doing so well." Drift snuggled himself close so the medic's firm tummy rested heavily upon his own thighs and pressed against his own belly. "You are almost done." The swordsmech leaned in for the next kiss, but restraint was no longer in Ratchet's vocabulary.

In a bold move, Ratchet wrapped one arm around the back of his partner, while the other groped desperately at a thigh. Sounds of his own engines revving now added to the symphony of sputtering fans and belly grumbles. The doctor immediately deepened the kiss, sliding his glossa past his lover's lips.

His plan did not pay off. The swordsmech squirmed, attempting to regain his freedom. While Ratchet never wanted to let Drift go, he couldn't force Drift to stay once resistance was felt.

"Hmmm…. Someone's eager." Drift purred and pressed himself more against the medic. "You're so bad."

"You're teasing," Ratchet mumbled under his breath as he tried to nibble at neck cables.

"Teasing?" Drift pulled his torso out of the medic's reach. "I don't think so. I'm giving you what you want, obviously. Teasing would be like… allowing you to look, but not touch." He gently patted the doctor's hand which still rested upon his thigh. "As you can see, you are touching."

"You keep pulling away- "

"You didn't finish your meal." Drifted spoke with severity and held up another morsel of the cake. "Eat first… play later."

"See? You are teasing- "The cake was shoved inside the mouth, ready or not.

"Well, since you made the accusation…" Drift wore his trademark crooked grin and returned to grinding his hips against the round belly, all while moaning and revving his engine in such a lewd manner. "How is this for teasing?" Hands roamed with more fervor and fingertips slipped into sensitive gaps in plating to rub at wires and protoform.

All of which drove Ratchet nuts. "Careful…" Ratchet sputtered out, squirming at the other's touch.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No…" Ratchet said, then was fed a piece from the last remaining slice of cake.

Seeing that the dessert was nearly finished was such a relief! Fierce growls quaked through his too stuffed, achy gut. True, his lover's action's felt soothing, but also brought up a new concern. Was Drift really into this?

Yes, he could hear his lover's fans running and even felt them expel hot air. Yes, he could hear the purr of his engines and his stifled gasps. Everything checked into place for the Swordsmech enjoying himself.

But was it for real… or just an act? Knowing of his lover's past-which did not bother Ratchet in the slightest-Ratchet couldn't help but wonder if this was just some sort of performance. Did Drift somehow think this was expected of him, and therefore he just went along with the show? Was Drift just bending to his lover's desires because he thought that was how things were done?

"You alright?" Drift asked, balancing a chunk of cake on the fork.

"Yeah… yeah… I'm fine." Ratchet opened his mouth for the piece of cake, quickly chewed, and swallowed. "Hey, Drift…"

"Almost done, baby." Drift leaned in to give a kiss, but this time, it was the CMO who pulled away. "What's wrong?"

"Ah…." And just how was Ratchet to word this? He reset his vocalizer and sucked in a breath of cool air. His own cooling fans whirled faster. "Look…you… this…"

Drift tilted his helm to the side and furrowed his optics. "Talk to me, babe."

Well, no holding back now. "You for real with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ah…" The medic huffed out. "You really getting turned on by this? Like, are you really enjoying feeding me cake... and rubbing my stuffed belly?"

A pair of optics rolled. "For real- "

"You're not just… just faking or playing along with what you think I want- "

"Do you really have to ask that?" Drift laughed and shoved the forkful of cake into the medic's mouth. "For someone who is trained in the medical field, I'd think you would be much more observant."

Ratchet did the only thing he could do with such a huge mouthful of food: mumbled something inaudible.

"Well, let's see." Drift rocked his hips upon the medic's lap. "Core temp running hot…very hot. Fans working overtime... Engines revving…" Both hands clutched at the huge belly while he purred madly. "You have no idea how much you are turning me on, hot stuff. Keep eating."

A sense of relief and joy ran through Ratchet's body: it was comforting to know Drift was serious. How embarrassing would it have been if Drift was just playing along? It would be mortifying to discover his chubby body and enjoyment of food disgusted his partner.

The best part, however, was that there were only two bites of the energon cake remaining. Eager to finish the dish, the medic took another bite. While the cake was delicious, there wasn't much room left in his stomach. His primary tank was stretched to the limit and even spilled over into his reserve tank, which was also at capacity. His tummy was swollen, achy, and just plain full!

"Just one more baby," Drift kissed the medic gingerly. "You can do it."

"I'm so full." Ratchet burped and hiccupped.

"Just a little bit left," Drift cooed and rubbed circles in the belly. "Do it for me, baby."

With a strained expression, Ratchet opened his mouth for the last bite of cake to be consumed. When your tummy was so full, it was nearly impossible to find the motivation to chew, let alone swallow. But Drift cooed and spoke lovingly to him (or his belly, Ratchet wasn't quite sure), encouraging him to finish the last bite.

"Atta boy," Drift smothered the medic with kisses. "What a good boy." Servos patted the mound of a belly. "Finished your meal. See how much happier your tummy is?"

"It hurts…"

"Hm…. Perhaps too much of a good thing can be bad, huh?" Drift gently stroked the belly. "But look on the bright side."

"What?" Ratchet leaned back against the seat, alarmed by how squeaky it became.

"Now you get to play."

"Drift!" Ratchet's jaw dropped as he panted. "Do you really think I'm able to do much 'playing' of any kind in this shape?"

"Hmmm." Drift cocked his head to the side, giving the medic a thorough look over. "Sadly true. But that won't stop me from having some fun."

As enticing as that sounded, Ratchet felt like a beach ball filled with lead, and any kind of 'fun' just seemed like too much work. The mere question of what his partner was thinking seemed overly strenuous. The medic shifted in his chair attempting to relieve the ache in his tummy. Every move he made was followed by the creaking of his chair.

"Come on, let's get you tucked into the berth." Drift shimmied himself off the CMO's lap, easing some pressure off his belly, then held his servo's out and smiled. "Need some help?"

"Help…" Ratchet chuckled. "Perhaps you should just roll me to my bed." The medic scooted himself forward, trying to make getting up as easy as possible. With each shimmy, the chair cried out as if shouting a slew of curses for being made to hold such a heavy load.

"Um…" Ratchet quickly placed his pedes on the floor, but it was too little too late. A loud, splintery crack rang through the air as he felt the chair give way and he tumbled to the floor.

"Ratch!" Drift's worried face loomed from above. "You alright?"

Ratchet's optic's were tightly shut as he checked on himself and gathered his dignity. Aside from his belly being jostled around, the only thing that hurt was his pride: he hurt more on the inside than on the outside. With reddening cheeks, the medic struggled to get on his knees. Primus, what a sight to see: his chair breaking and his fat aft crashing on the floor!

A servo hooked under the medic's arm to help but Ratchet merely gruffed them away in his embarrassing state.

Slag, the doctor even refused to look at his lover as he clambered onto his hands and knees to get off the ground. His belly ached as pressure built up, most likely caused by the fall.

"Ratch, are you hurt?" Drift's servo rested on his back. "Come on, buddy…"

The CMO couldn't hold back anymore. "Bwwwoooooooooork" The loud belch echoed through the air, adding insult to injury. Ratchet silently cursed at himself under his breath. What benefit did he think would come out of stuffing himself like a pig? He could only imagine how silly and repulsive he must look to Drift.

"Ratchet. " A servo grasped around the medic's chin and tried to lift his gaze up. It didn't budge. "Don't be like that." No answer. "Listen to me."

Ratchet nearly flinched at how authoritarian his lover's voice had become.

This time, when the servo gently cupped his face, Ratchet allowed his gaze to meet the sportsmech's. His optic's welled up with lubricant as he knelt on the floor, his shame defeating him.

"So, you broke a chair." Drift shrugged. "So what. It was old and tattered anyways."

"Yeah," Ratchet muttered. "But- "

"But what?"

Ratchet didn't have an answer. Words cannot describe how humiliated he felt and how badly he just wanted to hide.

"Come on." Drift tugged at the medic's shoulder. "Get up. I want to show you something."

Taking a few deep breaths, Ratchet slowly stood up. After brushing himself off- and kicking parts of the broken chair out of the way- Ratchet took the offered hand and allowed himself to be led.

He was stopped in front of a full-length mirror, and Ratchet couldn't help but grimace at the sigh he saw in front of him. It was clear just how much he overindulged tonight. His belly hung well over his hips as if he were in the last trimester of carrying a sparkling. His love handles were round and squishy, and he sported a few belly rolls on his side.

Even his thighs looked chunkier, chub bulging out over his plating.

A pair of hands snaked around his body, and he felt Drift's warm frame press against his back. "Look at how big you got!" The swordsmech's hands gently caressed the bloated tummy as if it were some fancy gift.

Ratchet grunted and wore a grimace on his face.

"What's that face for?"

"Looks disgusting…"

"Oh no, sweet spark." Drift kissed the medic's back. "You look sexy. "A nip was placed at the nape of the neck. "Hot!"

"Yeah right."

"Right." The swordsmech rested his chin on the other's shoulder. "I like what I see."

"Heh. Whatever." Ratchet made a face as he saw long, reddish claw marks running vertically on his belly. "Just look at these stress marks, Drift. You can't tell me you find them attractive."

"It's the mark of the feedee." Drift danced his fingertips over the marks that ran over his partner's belly. "I find them very sexy."

"Do you really?"

"Yupp." Hands wandered all over the surface of the belly, then pinched at the chubby sides. "You look terrific. Feels good too." The belly was gently slapped for good measure.

"Sure, Drift." A smile appeared on his lips when he caught a glimpse of his lover's optics in the mirror. "Must be easy for you to say, with you looking ever so sleek."

"Hmmm?" Drift mused, continuing to pepper kisses upon the medic's neck. "What do you mean?"

"Really? Look at you… then look at me." Ratchet explained. "Well, even before all this." Ratchet shook his own stomach and watched it jiggle. "You're the better-looking one."

"Well, that's a matter of opinion."

"What?" The medic chuckled.

"I find you quite handsome." Drift smiled at his lover in the mirror. "Always have, and always will."

"Let me guess…because I eat for you?"

"Belly or no belly Ratch, I find you friggin' sexy." Drift turned the medic around to face him and pecked him on the cheek. "Personally, I like the belly. But what I really love about you, is in here," A finger gently tapped on the medic's helm. "And in here." The finger moved to tap over his spark.

A grin widened on the medic's face before chuckles rippled out. "You are so sappy."

"But you love it, dontchya?" Drift hugged the medic before kissing him. "But seriously, Ratch, ever since I first laid optics on you, I thought you looked dreamy."

"First time? Ratchet quirked a brow. "Coming on board the Lost Light?"

"Onlining on your medical slab in your Dead End Clinic." Drift corrected. "That is when I first saw you."

The medic's brow arched.

How many vorns ago was that? And Drift crushed on him for that long? "Seriously?

You had the hots for me since then? But I was your doc-"

"I didn't give a scrap that you were my doctor," Drift laughed. "I knew you would, with those ethical codes you medics have. But I…. I would have repaid your services-"

"Yea, yeah, yeah" Ratchet wagged a finger at the other. "I remember that offer. Didn't think it was real though."

"Honestly, at that time, I don't think it was either, other than just hot lust." Drift shrugged and pulled the chunky bot in for a hug. "But as time passed, I realize what a catch you were. You were so kind. You were so sexy…"

At the mere mention of the word 'sexy', Ratchet couldn't help but chortle. "I've been called a lot of things, kid. But sexy wasn't one of them."

"Yeah, gruff and grumpy is more like it." Drift smiled. "I found you dreamy…and your actions were kind. Not many would have cared much for the overdosing street-mech that I was. In fact, many just walked right on by as if I didn't exist."

"Why do you like me fat?" Ratchet blurted out.

"Wh…" Drift was at a loss for words. "That came out of nowhere…"

The medic bit at his lower lip and shrugged. True, not much thought was put into his question before he spurted it out. Too late now.

"I suppose…. But I… I'm just curious."

"Why do you have a tendency to fancy racing frames?" Drift mimicked his lover's tone, and now Ratchet was at a loss for words. "I guess just preference, you know? I never put much thought into it, really." His servo's returned to knead at chubby love handles. "Simplest terms would just be the fact that I find a chubby frame attractive.

I simply like the way it looks- so soft, warm, and cozy. Inviting." The swordsmech's fingers pinched at flabby sides, earning himself a chuckle. "You know, very snuggable."

"I guess," Ratchet chortled.

"Deeper down, I guess someone like Rung would state it's related to being homeless, you know? Not having much food or anything. It always felt good to be able to provide treats to Gasket." Drift shrugged. "To be able to provide something to stave off starvation… to make someone feel good, even if just for a little while."

"Well, I don't think I'm anywhere near starvation, Drift."

"That could be a matter of opinion," Drift argued. "I've seen what you eat."

Ratchet's only response was firmly pressed lips and a glare.

"Come on, let's get you on the berth for some fun."

"Ah…" Ratchet's cheeks blushed again as his servo gently rubbed his massive tummy. "I don't know what kind of...performance you are expecting from me, kid…"

"Just snuggles… and belly rubs. Can you handle that?"

"Yeah, I definitely can handle that." Ratchet grinned and allowed himself to be led to the berth. Once standing at his bed's side, Drift pulled down the covers and patted at the plush mattress, and the chubby mech happily seated himself down.

"Hopefully that'll hold me."

"Don't be silly," the swordsmech chided as he guided his lover's legs up onto the berth. "Of course, it'll hold. Now, scooch over. Make room for me."

Ratchet obeyed, inch by inch sliding his heavy frame across the berth. It was amazing how something so easy proved to be more challenging with some extra weight!

"Here," Drift tossed some pillows at the medic, one hitting the mech in the face, the other bouncing off the round belly. " Prop yourself up with these. Make yourself comfortable." He joined the medic on the berth, snuggling himself next to his rounder lover, then pulled the blanket up. "You're not too warm, are ya?"

"No." Upon feeling his lover snuggling in close, the medic grinned. "At least, not yet."

"Well, let me know if you do."

Drift rested his helm on the CMO's chest. "And now the fun begins."

"Just take it easy on me…"

"Oh, trust me, you'll be begging for more." A quick kiss pecked the older mech's face. "Comfy?"

"Very much so."

"Ready for my hands to roam all over our belly?"

"You bet I am."

As promised, servo's began to trace along the seams of the belly, then circled down to the soft, underside of the belly. Ratchet closed his optics, enjoying the sensation of being touched, but with more of a surprise. The touch was very sensual: where fingers touched plating felt oddly warm- almost as if there was magic behind it.

Well, according to his lover, perhaps it was the power of his aura colors or something? Ratchet chuckled at that thought.

"Ticklish?"

"Ahhh…. Little bit," Ratchet half lied- he didn't think Drift would see the humor in his thought. "But it feels good. Very good."

"Yeah?" Drift grinned. "You know what else feels good?"

"W…What?"

"Having these thick, bad boys messaged." Drift slid his hand down to a plump thigh. "Do… you mind?"

"N- No…. go right ahead." Ratchet stammered as a hand began to grab thigh flab and knead it like dough.

And his lover was right! The sensation of having his thighs squeezed and groped was so amazing that his engines sputtered, and his fans clicked at high speeds.

"I see you agree with me."

That was an understatement. Once again, his interface controls pinged to activate and this time, it was too much for Ratchet to control. There was no time to deactivate the response: his panels acted on their own accord.

And Ratchet held his breath in shame as he heard the tell-tale pop of both his spike and valve panels spring open.

What was worse was Drift pausing: his hand resting stiffy on his thigh. It was evident his partner knew what had just happened. Slag, who wouldn't notice a spike popping up?

"Ah…. I…. Drift…" Ratchet felt a sting in his chest from embarrassment once again. "Sorry…. I'm so sorry! I-"

"You think I'm some sort of prude, babe?" Drift asked as he gently slapped a pudgy thigh. "I knew this would feel good."

"I…. well…." Ratchet tried to control his breathing to keep his body from getting worked up even more. "I didn't… want…."

"What?" Drift asked. "Don't be shy with me."

"I… I didn't want you to think- or feel- I was going too fast, you know?" Ratchet admitted. "You know like I was expecting…"

"Interfacing?" Drift boldly answered.

"Yeah…"

"You are a big boy Ratch, use your big boy words," Drift laughed. "But no. I do not wish to interface tonight."

"I wasn't-"

"I want that moment to be special." Drift interrupted with a dreamy look in his optics as he squeezed a thigh. "I have it all planned out."

"I bet you do," Ratchet closed his optics once again. "Does it involve power crystals and scented aroma candles?"

And said fat thigh received a hard pinch. A very, very hard pinch.

"Ouch Drift!" The medic whined and shifted his thigh away. "That hurt!"

"That's for making fun of my crystals and candles."

"It was just in fun…"

"They aren't power crystals."

The TIC's hand captured the thigh and yanked it closer. "They are healing crystals, and they aid in emotional and physical support. You really would benefit from them, old man."

"Um…. Well…" Ratchet spoke as his thigh was sensually rubbed once again, sending jolts of excitement right to his interface panel. "What about the scented candles?"

"Ratch. They simply are candles that have a pleasant smell, big dummy.

I thought someone who went through all that schooling could figure that out."

The servo rubbing at his thigh roamed up higher, and Ratchet felt his valve clench down with anticipation.

He sucked in air through a clenched jaw.

Primus, does Drift know what he was doing to him? "Drift…."

"Yes, love?" Drift gently rubbed at the wiring between the leg and crotch.

"You…." The CMO swallowed. "You need to stop that."

The hand paused, no longer messaging at such a sensitive and intimate location. "Does this bother you?"

"No…"

"Why do you want me to stop?"

"Because… if you don't…." Ratchet muttered. "I… ah….um…"

"Will cum?" Drift hummed. "Is that the medical terminology for it?"

"Yeah-well-no, ejaculate… but…. You get the idea."

"Isn't that the point?"

"But, didn't you say-"

"I know what I said sweets," Drift answered and gently brushed the tips of his fingers over the medic's valve.

"I don't want to interface just yet.

But that doesn't mean we can't play with each other. Unless that is, you have a problem with this?"

"No!" Ratchet spat a bit impatiently. "I'm fine with it."

"That's good to hear," Drift purred and began rubbing one of the valve's outer nodes. "Now, the fun can begin."