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It takes Skyfire approximately two seconds to register what his optics are seeing before he darts across the library and lifts Hot Rod out of harm’s way, all in the space of a cycled ventilation.
“Hey, what’re you--”
“Those shelves are not enough to support your weight,” Skyfire says as Hot Rod dangles from his hands. It pays to be so much larger than most of his peers. “They would have toppled, and you would have suffered terrible injuries which would immediately have been followed by…?”
Hot Rod goes limp in his hold. “Ratchet yelling,” he mutters.
“Ratchet yelling. Precisely.” Skyfire carefully sets Hot Rod on his feet. “What were you doing, climbing the shelves like that?”
Hot Rod folds his arms and stares at the ground, a bit of color rising in his cheeks. ‘The book I want is on the top shelf, and I couldn’t find a ladder.”
“So you decided to climb the furniture?” Skyfire asks, aghast.
Hot Rod shrugs. “It seemed the quickest solution.”
Skyfire’s mouth snaps shut. He presses a palm over his optics, shutters them, and takes several long, slow ventilations.
“Next time, please ask for help instead. I would be happy to retrieve it for you,” Skyfire says once he’s calm enough not to snap at Hot Rod as if he were some errant youngling. “Which book was it?”
Hot Rod’s shoulders hunch, and a small curl of embarrassment leaks out of his field. He rubs the back of his neck. “Stellae Fabulae, volume two,” he says in a quiet voice.
“The Story of Stars,” Skyfire echoes, and a small smile curves his lips. “That’s one of my favorites. Have you read it before?”
He moves past Hot Rod, reaching to the highest shelf to remove the aforementioned story. Come to think of it, the reason it is so highly placed might be Skyfire’s own fault. He believes he might have been the last one to read it, and as the tallest mech living here, he’d likely put it on this shelf without thinking twice about it.
“Just volume one,” Hot Rod says. “I've read that one about a thousand times. When I realized I could probably find the rest of it here, I decided to look and…” He trails off, spreading his hands. “Here I am.”
“Yes. Here you are.” Skyfire offers him the datapad. “You enjoy mythology?”
Hot Rod takes it with a nod and another small, almost shy smile. “There’s not a lot of entertainment in Nyon, but we used to sit on the roof and stare at the stars, and we’d tell each other stories about the ones we didn’t know.”
“We?” Skyfire asks.
“My friends,” Hot Rod says, but he doesn’t elaborate, and Skyfire doesn’t push. They all had to leave something behind when they came to be Optimus Prime’s Consorts, and for many, it is a wound still too raw to address.
“I enjoy stargazing as well,” Skyfire says. “I have a telescope on my balcony for the clearer nights.”
Hot Rod’s optics light up. “I’ve never had one.”
“I’m sure if you asked Optimus, he’d get one for you,” Skyfire says.
“Yeah, he’s kind of sweet like that.” Hot Rod grins, his spoiler flicking up and down in a manner Skyfire finds too adorable for words. “I don’t know how to use one without breaking it though.”
“Then I’ll teach you.” Skyfire thumbs his chin, thinking. There are no acid rains this evening. It should be clear. “Tonight, in fact, if you want. It’s a good night for it.”
Hot Rod’s optics widen. “Really?”
“Yes, of course. Honestly, I’m happy to find someone else as curious about the stars as I am. Starscream, sadly, tends to appreciate more practical ventures,” Skyfire sighs, but it’s fondness rather than exasperation.
Starscream has little time for fictional stories, which is a shame, because Skyfire feels he could stand to remember what it’s like to dream a little.
Hot Rod hugs the datapad to his chassis, and his whole being vibrates with an excitement that’s palpable in the air. “He can get kind of stuck up about that. I asked him about a constellation the other day, and he spent an hour telling me how long it would take to travel to each star, and why we’d bother doing it.”
Skyfire chuckles. “Yes, that sounds like Starscream.”
“So, um, after dinner?” Hot Rod asks.
“If you're not otherwise occupied, that would be wonderful,” Skyfire says.
Hot Rod grins. “Nah. I think Ratchet has dibs on Optimus tonight.” He winks and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I hear someone has been avoiding a vent flush.”
“Oh, my.”
“You’re telling me.” Hot Rod shakes his head. “I’m not the brightest bulb, but even I know better than to ignore Ratchet.”
“You’re a very wise mech,” Skyfire agrees, his spark clenching at the brief note of self-deprecation in Hot Rod’s tone. He will have to do something to address that. Perhaps tonight. “I will see you after dinner then?”
Hot Rod beams at him. “Absolutely.”
“Then it’s a date,” Skyfire says, and knows he’s made the right choice when Hot Rod lights up with a very palpable joy.
***