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Ambulon perked up at the sound of the medibay door swishing open. Finally. It was still a couple of cycles before shift change, but Ratchet was usually exceedingly early and the change of routine had been bothering him. He turned to greet his superior, but stopped short when he saw Ratchet was not alone. The white swordsmech Drift was by his side, and judging by the rarely-seen smile on Ratchet's face and the close proximity with which they stood, Ratchet definitely had more on his mind than making it to his shift on time. Ambulon's suspicions were confirmed when Drift smiled softly and leaned forward to plant a goodbye kiss on Ratchet's lips.
Ambulon redirected his gaze sharply toward the datapad in his hands. He pretended to be engrossed in its contents whilst the two apparent-lovers exchanged goodbyes, grumbling unhappily to himself when his faceplates began to heat. He fussed uselessly over the datapad a moment longer before he heard Ratchet's heavy footsteps approaching.
"Your shift's over," Ratchet pointed out. "I'll take it from here."
"Thank you," Ambulon grunted, and he put the datapad down with a dull clatter. He carefully avoided meeting Ratchet's optics as he beat a path to the door. He swept past Drift with a curt hello and made it three whole paces before the swordsmech called out to him and stopped him in his tracks.
"Ambulon?"
"What?"
"Your aura is looking pretty chaotic right now. Are you okay?"
Aura? What the pit did that mean?
"I'm fine," Ambulon grumbled, mentally cursing as his faceplates flushed with renewed heat. It got worse when he heard Drift move toward him, and he flinched visibly when the mech laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Does it bother you?" Drift’s voice dropped to a whisper.
"Does what—"
"Public displays of affection."
"Ah," Ambulon coughed. "That. It's just not something I'm used to."
"Come on," Drift teased gently, "surely you've stolen a few kisses with someone when you thought no one was looking? I think everyone's done it at some point.”
"Well I've never really—Look it's just been a long war and I haven't had the time for anything like that." What was he saying? That was too much information. He shuffled awkwardly under the extended silence as Drift stared at him.
"Really? Never?" Ambulon grunted an affirmative. Drift continued to stare. The moment seemed to last an eternity until at last Drift stirred. His hand slid off Ambulon's shoulder and cupped the medic gently under the chin, tilting his head up. Ambulon thought he was being made to meet his optics, but a sudden rush of motion stunned him as Drift closed the distance and kissed him full on the lips.
Ambulon's processor must have temporarily crashed. That was the only thing that could explain why he stood there and let Drift kiss him. Finally it seemed to catch up to the situation, because he let out a gasp and stepped back and away from the kiss. He put a hand defensively in front of his mouth, optics flaring brightly.
"What—But—Ratchet," he spluttered.
"Ratchet doesn't mind," Drift murmured, closing the distance again to nuzzle against the side of Ambulon's burning face. "Do you, Ratchet?" he asked a little louder. There was a shuffling of feet and an awkward cough from nearby, and Ambulon realized with horror that all this had taken place with the door to the medibay still wide open.
"Only if Ambulon's fine with it," Ratchet grunted. "I don't need you pestering my staff, Drift." Despite Ratchet’s grouchy tone, Drift chuckled lightly.
“I’m not causing a problem, am I?” Drift kissed Ambulon again, safely on the cheek this time. “Tell me if I am.”
“It’s not exactly a problem,” Ambulon mumbled, “just completely out of nowhere.” Truth be told, it was actually kind of nice having someone be so openly affectionate with him, if rather embarrassing. It would be a lot better if they weren’t standing in front of the medibay where his superior was working. “Still not comfortable with public displays of affection,” he pointed out.
“How about private displays of affection?” Drift ventured slyly.
“Better private than out in public like this,” Ambulon replied with a shrug and a grimace. He turned his head away from Drift as though to pretend he wasn't draped around his shoulders, brushing his neck cables with lips still heated from a stolen kiss. He stiffened as the lips parted, and for one horrifying moment he thought Drift wasn’t going to listen to his appeal and was going to take things even further while still only steps from the open medibay door mind you, but all that came of it was Drift murmuring into his neck:
“I agree. My place?”
“Whatever works,” Ambulon shrugged helplessly. Drift slid a hand down Ambulon’s arm and twined their fingers together.
“Follow me,” he whispered, and stepped back to gently tug Ambulon after him. Ambulon cast one final, desperate look at the safety of the medibay and his superior bustling around inside. Their optics met and for a moment he saw a flicker of concern cross Ratchet’s features and thought that perhaps he would be saved. But all he said was:
“Don’t be afraid to say no if you need to, Ambulon.”
“But don’t be afraid to say yes either,” Drift countered, still tugging him onward. Ambulon felt confused, conflicted, and so he let himself be guided along. What had happened to his plan to go off-duty, get a cube of energon, and read until it was time to recharge? This wasn’t on the schedule!
“We’re here,” Drift announced, and Ambulon stumbled to a halt, unprepared for the sudden stop. He glanced up and saw that they hadn’t travelled far at all, and were in fact still a short stroll from the medibay. Only medics roomed out here, and Ambulon’s own quarters were only a few doors down.
“Your place, I thought?” he stammered.
“Ah, sorry,” Drift’s voice took on a regretful tone. “I forgot to mention that I’ve been staying at Ratchet’s recently.” Too much information. “Does this still work for you?” He looked at Ambulon so pleadingly, so apologetically, that Ambulon found himself automatically nodding.
“It’s fine.”
“I’m glad,” Drift said with a surprisingly sweet smile, and then he punched in the door code and dragged Ambulon inside.
Ratchet’s quarters were unexpectedly cluttered, Ambulon thought, though perhaps it was hardly surprising if the two mechs were currently sharing a space. There was a large berth taking up one corner—try not to think about that, Ambulon reminded himself—next to a small nightstand with a shelf of datapads mounted above it. To Ambulon’s immediate left he noted a drinks cabinet well-stocked with brews from Swerve’s. Across the room was a desk and a hastily installed sword rack on the far wall—one guess who that belonged to—and then the rest of the suite was taken up by an ample couch set in front of a media center.
“It certainly looks lived in,” Ambulon said awkwardly, thinking about his bare-bones twin-berth room, decorated only by the endless supply of Autobrands First Aid obsessed over. He didn’t have much to himself but a small table stacked high with borrowed reading material. Drift must have sensed this, because he offered him a sheepish smile.
“I’m not used to it either. I prefer a minimalist approach to my quarters,” that’s not exactly what Ambulon would have chosen to call it, “but Ratchet likes to feel settled in. He says he’s slept in far too many bases and bunkers for one lifetime. He wants somewhere that’s his.” Drift’s smile broadened now, into something more genuine and affectionate now that he was thinking of his partner. “Do you like it? We managed to scrape it together bit-by-bit. Almost looks like a home now. At least, that’s what Ratchet says.”
“Better than what I’ve got,” Ambulon shrugged.
“Good,” Drift’s expression turned sultry, and Ambulon immediately stiffened. “Because I want you to feel comfortable.” And then he was kissing him again.
It wasn’t so bad, Ambulon decided, now that no one was around to see. He still wasn’t sure what he was doing as he awkwardly placed his hands on Drift’s wide spaulders, but at least now only the two of them were around to be embarrassed by his inexperience. Drift wasn’t embarrassed though, at least as far as Ambulon could tell. Drift drew back a little, smiling, and touched his forehead against Ambulon’s.
“Like this,” he whispered, and pecked Ambulon chastely on the lips. Ambulon shyly returned the kiss, and Drift let it deepen, guiding the medic’s mouth into motion. “You can touch me,” Drift murmured, gliding his fingers down Ambulon’s arms and pressing his palms against the back of Ambulon’s hands, “I like it.” And he shifted the medic’s hands from their hesitant perch on his shoulders to rest on his chest. “Try it.”
Ambulon really was not sure about this, but he carefully mapped out the plane of Drift’s breastplate, letting his fingers gravitate automatically to the Autobrand at the center. Ambulon traced the shape of it curiously, wondering what First Aid found so fascinating. He’d worn this symbol and another, and neither had felt particularly meaningful. They were just sides in an endless conflict, both guilty of good and evil. He thought nothing special of it.
Apparently Drift did, though, for his ministrations made the swordsmech’s vents hitch. Ambulon felt the plating warm beneath his touch and he stilled, not sure whether to continue or pull away.
“You have nice hands,” Drift whispered breathlessly.
“Not as nice as Ratchet,” Ambulon blurted without thinking.
“Not as confident as Ratchet,” Drift chuckled, “but that’s the only difference as far as I can tell.” And then he silenced any more of Ambulon’s skepticism with another long string of kisses. This time, with his engine running hotter and his fans whirring to life, Drift took things further, kisses growing mouthy and desperate. Ambulon stumbled back a pace as Drift stepped forward, and his legs hit the edge of the couch. Drift wrapped strong arms around him and lowered him gently, still kissing him all the while. Then, when he was settled on the cushions, Drift swiftly climbed on top of him.
Oh no. Did he really want this?
Drift slid a knee between his thighs, parting them.
Nope.
“Ratchet may be along to join us later,” Drift purred, engine working overtime, “if you’re interested.”
Nope.
“I think maybe not,” Ambulon said nervously, using the hands still on Drift’s breastplate to push him away a little. Drift blinked down at him in confusion.
“Well, we still have plenty of time for the two of us.”
“No. No thank you. I just, um, I’m fine leaving things here. Yup.” Ambulon squirmed uncomfortably, intensely aware that Drift was still on top of him. Realization dawned over Drift’s features and he slid off Ambulon to perch subdued at the far end of the couch.
“Oh, I thought—no of course, Ratchet was right. You meant to say no all along. I thought you were being shy.” Drift passed a hand across his face, and Ambulon felt almost relieved that he was not the only one embarrassed. “I should have analyzed your aura more carefully.”
What?
“It’s okay,” Ambulon scooted his legs up to give Drift more room, and found himself hugging his knees defensively. “I’m not the most socially capable of mechs.” And here he was admitting things he didn’t mean to again. Great. “I guess I didn’t know. I mean, until now. I didn’t figure it out.” He took a deep vent and started again. “The kissing was fine! Just don’t really want to go any further right now. That’s all.” He glanced at the door, wondering if he should leave and end this awkward situation now, but then Drift said:
“I liked it too. And it’s fine leaving it at that. It’s nice.” Ambulon glanced over and found Drift smiling warmly at him. “Would you like to stay? We could watch a movie together. We don’t need to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. It might be nice to just enjoy each other’s company for a while. What do you think?”
“That sounds fine,” Ambulon said cautiously, sliding his legs out of his tight grip. “What movies do you have?” And together they went to go see.
When Ratchet’s shift was finally over and he returned to his hab suite, he paused outside the door, reluctant to enter. What state was he going to find Drift in? Would he and Ambulon be deep in the throes of lovemaking, or perhaps passed out in exhaustion on the berth? Would Drift want a threesome? Would Ambulon? Or perhaps Drift would be content to lie back and see how medics liked to do things. Hopefully this wouldn’t cause problems at work. Drawing in a deep vent, Ratchet punched in the door code and stepped inside to find…
Drift and Ambulon curled up on the couch together, wrapped in a shared blanket and peacefully watching a movie. The normally uptight ward manager was nestled comfortably against Drift’s side, and Drift had an arm around him, stroking his shoulder fondly. Drift looked up at his arrival, but Ambulon seemed half asleep and could only blink dopily in his general direction.
“Welcome home Ratchet,” Drift said serenely. “How was your shift?”
“Quiet. Not even Pipes managed to hurt himself. I didn’t leave First Aid with much to do. He’s going to be very bored.” Ratchet glanced down at Ambulon, who had nodded off during his talk and then jerked upright again when he nearly toppled over. “How about you?” he asked tentatively.
“Oh, fine. We’re just finishing up the second film in the Trimara Trilogy, but I think we’re too tired for the last one.” Drift nuzzled his companion, who uttered an agreeable, or assumedly agreeable:
“Hn.”
“You’ve just been watching movies?” Ratchet asked carefully as Drift kissed Ambulon on the top of his helm.
“Mm, mostly. We cuddled a lot. And kissed a bit. But mostly just watched movies.”
“I see.” Ratchet couldn’t help but smile a little at that. He had his suspicions that Ambulon wasn’t quite up for what Drift had in mind, but it was nice to see that things had worked out regardless. “Any room for me on that couch?”
“I think we can arrange that.” Carefully Drift shifted the nodding-off medic and managed to free up a bit more space. He opened the blanket and beckoned Ratchet in, who went gratefully into his embrace. Ratchet wrapped his arms around his two companions, and couldn’t help but smile again when Ambulon found his hand and squeezed it gently.
It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but really he couldn’t think of a better way to end the night.