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The war was over. Cybertron was restored.
And life went on.
The Rescue Bots had grown into adults of their kind, and at Optimus Prime’s suggestion, had opened an Academy to ensure they were not the very last rescue bots.
Students flocked to them, students of all kinds of personalities and ambitions! Arranged into teams of 4 or 5, they took their classes in timetables, they stuck to different dorms, and they had individual mentors. That last part had been at Chase’s insistence.
Other Cybertronains - whether they’d fought in the war or hidden from it - signed up to offer their expertise as teachers. It was fantastic.
But, they definitely had a favourite team.
A team of five younglings, who seemed to find themselves tangled in as much mischief and mayhem as Sigma-17 had!
Boulder had turned down being a mentor in favour of teaching engineering, but Blades, Chase, and Heatwave had all taken one of the five on, assigned by their strengths and what they had most to learn.
Chase was mentor to Whirl, not just because she wanted to be an enforcer just like him, but because she needed to learn patience and calmness.
Blades was mentor to Medix, since he was the only one of the original four with any medical training, and because Medix needed to learn compassion.
Heatwave had made it very clear that he wanted to mentor Hot Shot. The little rascal reminded him of himself, and he’d learnt many lessons from experience.
“I… Need some time off.” Heatwave shuttered his optics once. Twice. Raised an optical ridge. He was currently sat at his desk, and Blades stood on the other side, pressing two of his digits together like he did when he was nervous. Heatwave sighed, wondering what on earth his Conjunx was think.
Yeah, Conjunx.
Conjunx Endura. It should have been clear that this would happen at some point, but it had still taken a push from Chase for either of them to confess. Once their feelings were out in the open, it hadn’t taken long at all for them to become Conjunx.
(Chase had threatened them that he had better be Blades’ support mech, or else. Chase had been Blades’ support mech.)
“Blades, you’re a mentor. You can’t just… Take time off.” Giggling uneasily, Blades shuffles on the spot.
“Yeah, umm… It’s just that… I need some time off.” He sounds shy, but happy, and the sparkbond sings with joy, the reason of it Blades is carefully keeping secret. Heatwave pushes his paperwork asides for a second, giving his Conjunx full attention.
Blades smiles a little wider, like he’s glowing.
It makes Heatwave soften a little, huffing in loving amusement.
“Need for what, hmm~? Are you going to paint the berthrooms again? Make a mosaic of the current students? Go back to Cybertron for a bit?” Blades shakes his helm at each suggestion, merriment spilling over so much that he bounces on his pedes and bites into his bottom lipplate to stop himself blurting out his secret.
Heatwave laughs softly, opening one arm.
“C’mere. And tell me, what’s got you so excited?” At the invitation, Blades slides round the desk and seats himself firmly in Heatwave’s lap, resting his helm on Heatwave’s shoulder and purring softly.
Heatwave wraps his arms around him, one servo resting on his hip, the other on his upper arm. He looks lovingly at Blades’ peaceful smile, returning it with one of his own. Their optics meet, Blades blushes, and then Heatwave steals a small kiss.
“Are you going to tell me, or do I need to tease it out of you?” Blades grins a little wider, clearing his vents and sitting up a little to look Heatwave directly in the optic.
“Heatwave. Love of my life. Conjunx Endura. I need time off.”
“But, why?”
“Ratchet’s orders~.” And that confuses Heatwave more, because who would be so happy about going to a medic and being ordered to stay off work?
Blades loved his job! He loved being a rescue bot, being a teacher, and being a mentor! He loved those students as if they were his own and wouldn't leave them for anyth-
Oh.
Oh!
“Oh!” Blades laughs loudly as Heatwave figures it out, his spark giving a large pulse of surprise and glee, love and warmth and bright, glittering joy. Wide optics look at him, and Heatwave grins large enough to hurt.
“Really?! Are you-? You’re really?!” Laugh turning to snickers, Blades leans in and rubs their olfactory sensors together.
“Yes, Conjunx, I’m carrying~.”
“You’re carrying!”
“Yes!”
“You’re carrying!” Blades laughs again, but this time, Heatwave doesn’t wait for him to stop before pulling him into a deep, loving kiss. He’s almost overwhelmed with joy, and their sparks beat together in celebration. For Blades, a third spark beats with them.
Their sparkling.
The little spark that split off from his and Heatwave’s combined, proof of their love for each other, and their eagerness to be a family.
Truthfully, Blades had wanted this before the Academy had opened doors, but Heatwave hadn’t been ready then. He’d been unsure, thought he’d make a bad Sire. Obviously, he’d overcome those concerns.
It was probably thanks to the recruits that he had.
“This is amazing, Blades. We’re going to be Creators. We’re going to have a sparkling!” With Blades already in his lap, Heatwave picks him up easily, spinning him around with a laugh of pure joy, genuine and sparkfelt. Blades squeals, but puts a servo on Heatwave’s shoulder.
“Don’t make me dizzy, I’ll purge!”
“Oops, sorry.” Heatwave puts Blades down, his servos trailing to take Blades’s servos instead, holding them tenderly. Their forehelms press together, and Blades has his optics shuttered close, just enjoying the gentle moment.
Heatwave shutters his own optics closed slowly, venting carefully as if anything could break this moment. Together, they sway slightly, until Blades shuffles and pulls back. Both their optics open again, glistening with unshed tears of joy.
“It won’t be long now.”
“You’ve kept this a secret a long time, haven’t you?” Barking out a laugh, Blades moves to sit in Heatwave’s chair. Heatwave allows it, considering the circumstance, perching himself on the edge of his desk.
“Oh, believe me, I had no idea until I started feeling nauseous in the morning cycle!”
“That... How long ago was that?”
“Just over an earth week, Heatwave. I meant to tell you beforehand, but I was so busy learning about what I’d be going through, what the sparkling was doing, and how to keep it healthy, it was hard to find time. Then, every time I went to announce it, we were called out to an emergency and had to supervise the recruits, or teaching, or- There was a lot going on. Forgive me?”
“Always.” Heatwave’s optics flicker down to where his spark would be.
“So, how long do we have?” Sheepishly, Blades averts his optics.
“Not- Not long at all… The sparkling dropped into my gestation chamber this morning.”
“... What?!” Heatwave’s optics are wide, and he reaches forwards as if he was about to scoop Blades up and run him to the nearest medic. Blades, however, giggles.
“You think you’re surprised, I was in the middle of a lesson!” That would explain why Heatwave’s office had been ambushed earlier by their favourite little recruits, all speaking over each other in distress and shouting that Blades had run off in the middle of a simulation.
“The brats were worried about you.” This time, Blades looks away with a tinge of guilt. Heatwave feels a little bad for bringing it up, but it had scared them. The fact that Hot Shot had run straight to him, friends on his heels, meant the younglings had thought something was wrong.
Heatwave was only able to reassure them that Blades was fine, because their sparkbond allowed him to know Blades was okay. He had questioned it, but the feeling that was pushed back at him was calm and content.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… It just- It burnt and hurt, I thought I really was going to purge in front of them. I ran out before I did.”
“Hmm. Probably a good thing. That would have terrified them. They probably would have run off to get their own mentors.”
“Oh, pit no! It was embarrassing enough asking Ratchet to leave his class for a bit! Especially when he knew what was happening!” Blades crosses his arms over his chassis, puffing out one cheekplate in annoyance.
It’s adorable.
“Let me guess, he tried to calm you down?”
“Yes!!! He shoved a bucket into my servos, made me lie on a scanner, and laughed when I asked if I was going to die!” Heatwave can’t stop a small vent of laughter escaping. Blades narrows optics at him.
“It’s not funny, Heatwave.” Clearing his vents, Heatwave holds out a servo in placation. Blades softens as he takes it.
“You’re right, you’re right. It seems funny now, knowing you’re okay.”
“... I guess it does~... But I was scared. It really did hurt. I felt like my fuel lines were constricting, like a giant servo was squeezing me, or I’d swallowed battery acid.” Heatwave makes a face of disgust at that one. They’d made that mistake once. Never again.
“And then there was the burning! Oh, Heatwave, I felt like I was on fire! Ratchet gave me a pain patch, said that everything was proceeding nicely, but I just wanted to cry.”
Knowing Blades, he had. Maybe not as hard as he wanted to, but he would have.
“Hey, it’ll be worth it, right?” He squeezes Blades’ servo as he asks, and Blades squeezes back in return, his other servo going to lay over his abdomen.
“Absolutely. Ratchet says I’ll feel ‘off-balance’ for the next couple of days as my systems change to let the sparkling settle into the growth stage, then time will go past like anything.” He pauses, venting a sigh.
“I’m going to get fat…” Heatwave rolls his eyes. Of all the human things Blades could have picked up on…
“You’re not going to get fat, you’re going to be carrying. Or, visibly carrying.”
“I’ve been warned I need to double my rations, and rest. A lot. More rest than I think I can deal with. The sparkling is going to sap all my energy, and I’m going to ache. Apparently, I might even be too sore to move the day before emergence.” Wincing, Heatwave slides off the desk and kneels in front of his Conjunx.
“It’s going to be alright, Blades. I’ll be right there if you need anything. Just a comm call away for the start, but I promise I’ll make more time for you towards the end.” Blades offers him a nervous smile.
“Don’t neglect the students, ‘Wave.”
“They’ll understand. If you even want to tell them, that is.” The nervous smile grows into a beaming smile.
“Obviously! I think I’d like to tell Chase, Boulder, and the Burns family first. Then the other teachers and our friends. And finally, the students. I’ll tell Medix before the others, because I think he’s going to be full of questions, maybe take the opportunity to learn this part of medical.”
“Don’t traumatise him.” Blades doesn’t miss the teasing tone, laughing and giving his Conjunx a soft tap on the wrist.
“I’m not going to! It’s not like I’ll go into emergence in front of the recruits!” Heatwave raises an optical ridge. A silent ‘really?’. Because Blades doesn’t have the best track record as of this point.
“You passed out in front of them from overheating, you pushed Hoist out the way of landslide and got trapped under rockfall in front of them, you got your rotors slammed in a malfunctioning door in front of them, and you just admitted you ran out on them because you were going to purge.”
“Hey!” Blades pinches a sensitive joint, making Heatwave jump at the sensation. He lets Blades glare at him for a moment before moving in and kissing him on the tip of his olfactory sensor.
“I’m sorry, Sweetspark, but you know I’m right~.” Rolling his optics, Blades grumbles under his vents. Heatwave chuckles, and blows air over his faceplates.
“I love you, Blades. With all my spark.” Like magical words, the grumpiness leaves Blades’s frame, and he leans in to steal a kiss on the lips, deep and passionate.
“I love you too, Heatwave. My Conjunx Endura.”
“Conjunx Endura.” Two words, spoken as a promise, meaning more than a paragraph or poem could describe. The moment is broken when Blades draws back with a sharp, shudderning vent. Their sparkbond fluctuates with a feeling of dread.
“Blades?” Heatwave draws back, concerned, and only just catches how strained Blades looks before-
“Bucket. Quick.” There’s no bucket in his office, but he turns the plastic bin next to his desk upside down, uncaring about the screwed up paper and broken rubber bands now on the floor.
As soon as the bin is within reach, Blades leans into it. Heatwave grimaces at the sound and smell of violent purging. His poor sparkmate…
“This is going to be a regular thing, isn’t it?” Blades groans between purges, giving Heatwave a shaky thumbs up. Despite everything, Heatwave smirks.
“Guess we’d better invest in more buckets~.”
The thumbs up shifts to a middle finger.