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It’s your second date, and you’re sprawled on the floor of the sparring grounds, a blunt photon saber and open hand points at you in equal measure, from a robust mostly deep pink bot with white and gray portions, cyan biolights and optics ablaze with a small fanged smile. Your vents pick up speed and circuits buzz at the sight of Arcee in her glory and the simple moment of trust.
Your own blade sits on the ground, just out of grasp, and you scooch over to pick it up before taking her hand. She lifts you with ease to your feet.
“Well done sweetspark, you had me going there a few moves ago with that feint riposte followed by a counterblow, you have good footwork,” Her wheeled backstacks wiggle and whirr. “Why don’t we go eat something? I can invite you home, if you’d like, at some point I’ll have to introduce our relationship to my family, they’ll be home this evening.”
“I’d like that, both things, that is, and that will certainly make for an interesting time, I love those five,” your grasper lingers on her hand as you sheathe your sword in your scabbard back, and tentatively put a grasper on her gray plated waist.
Arcee murmurs, grinning, and gives your grasper in her hand a squeeze while turning off her sparring sword with her other boxy arm and storing the hilt in a backstack. “Fantastic! I’ll comm them to let them know you’ll be around for dinner with them too, if you want.”
While your hand still pulses from her squeeze, the idea of sitting with her three Conjunxes and two mentees to chat, share food, and mirth sparks both nervousness and excitement. “Oh yes, I’d love that. Your family is so sweet and important to you, based on how you gushed about them on your first date,” you return the squeeze, to her waist, and step close, amorousness rushing through your frame. “I want to get to know them, and if they all like me, hopefully that will mean more time together.”
“We’re of the same mind, you and I,” she nuzzles the cheek guards of one side of her helm against your face. “Let’s go then, we can take the train home, maybe hold hands and cuddle on the way.”
“Mmm,” you nuzzle back, sensors tingling. “Let’s go then.”
You step around her, still holding graspers together, and both walk off towards the nearest edge of the banner filled softmetal sparring grounds where dozens of other bots, lithoids, and organics spar, talk, cuddle and kiss in no unified order. You and Arcee share a glance, and you chuckle a little as you both step onto the metal tree sprinkled street sidewalk, thoughts on the close intimacy some of the partners on the field were sharing… finding yourself wondering what it would be like to share touch like that in Arcee’s arms or her in yours, for faceplate or mouth to meet her own.
“What’s on your mind, lovewheels?” Arcee asks as you both turn towards the triple ramp/stair/lift down to the metro station, glancing at the low and highly decorated blocky halls and domes among groves of old town Dialgem, Caminus around you.
“Oh, er,” you fluster a little and your biolights dilate luminosity across your frame. “I was just thinking about, making out and sharing caresses with you.” Your brain module swims with awareness of her closeness, all that wisdom and love contained within her frame, her steady stride, her big round shoulders, her headlighted sloped chest, her pink, tail-ended crest on her lower broad crest, audialbuns lit up softly.
Your optics fall on her face as she laughs, “such a sensory one, aren’t you,” she elbows you softly in a slide across your elbow as you both head down the ramp, and you murmur and feel your spark warm at the touch from her. “Oh you are sensitive. Your psyche is so playful… I think this afternoon will be a lot of fun. But first, food! You got me a bit hungry from our exercise.”
“Mmm, that does sound nice,” you try not to think about your duties tomorrow, enjoyable as they are, much preferring to think of your date instead, “I might only be able to stay ‘till morning if that’s what you want, but maybe I could call in and take the day off. I can get someone to cover for me.”
You both make it down to the platform of the brightly painted tunnel station, images of dancing and spaceflight about in abstract form, a few dozen people around you on the green platform.
“Aw. sweetie, you don’t have to… I know your courier work is important to you, the rush of zooming around, of holding and letting go of things between people, sharing stories,” Arcee sidesteps closer to you, letting go of your hand to put an arm around your back. “I get that, it’s appealing… shaping life in motion.”
“Either you’ve worked my job, or this is more of your famous trans aesthetic analysis.” you giggle, and she joins exuberantly, leaning on you, leaving you warm and tender. What a beautiful strength she has… I’m glad I started going to the transformation and expansive meetings, talking with her now and then all the way to here. “That first time I heard you talk in person a decade ago, is what got me to start to love you more in the back of my mind, I think. about how there’s more to our changes and contexts than we will ever know, and that is part of how the cosmos and peoples in it can be free in all the ways particular to them without someone’s agency being taken away… that your life, with all you went through in ancient days to now to be happy and do something good, ‘is a testament to the strength of love from universe, community, contact, knowledge, and self as the greatest strength of all alongside understanding unknowability...'"
You shiver, spark expanding in your chest, just like it did when Arcee, Windblade, Nautica, Tigerhawk, and Ultra Magnus read the declarations of the pacifist, aesthetic Autobot Revolution sourced by billions just eleven years ago, speeches whose live feed you saw when you were part of a solidarity gathering that filled the polity’s streets. When I first started to ask myself… “It just made me feel so affirmed. I’m happy with the contexts I’ve realized now, but embracing that I will never know myself in fullness, never be reducible or essentialized to my words and all the other parts of me is fabulous. I saw that you adore the beauty of journey, of mine even though you didn’t know mine, and knowing your story… I thought I might as well try to embrace myself, and join community talks, grasp your dialect. May I-” the rush of intrepidness, appreciation, and carefulness in your mind and spark roared through every metal of your being. “May I kiss you? I really don’t have more to say.”
She steps around to face you, leaning down slightly, and says with a glimmer in her optics: “Yes, darling, please do- mmm!”
You shut your optics and nuzzle your faceplate onto her lips, rubbing and patting, turning your head with her, cooing as she opens and closes her mouth precisely and slowly on the front of your faceplate and along your seams, gently and firmly running hands along your waist.
Senses soaring, you keep on for another minute, stuck between whether to fold up the faceplate or not, vents steaming by the time the train’s arrival is announced, frame marked in memory by her touch as you step apart. Still attentive and drawn in, while walking onboard the half-filled train cab car and finding seating along a window, leaning on Arcee. Your ancient warrior sage date who hasn’t even broken vapor, but is grinning from audial to audial.
“That was delightful… I love you, dearspark. And now we rest a little until our stop, yeah? Give you time to get more words,” she whispers in your audial, patting your helm once.
“Sounds good, love you too…” You shut your optics, basking in her metal embrace, your head at rest on the top of the slope of her chest. You ease off into a half-slumber…
After disembarking at More Than One Way St. & 25th Rd. station and making your way into the green and pink four story habsuite complex in the afternoon sun and low wind, you sigh, and find Arcee’s hand while in the lobby, waiting for the elevator, and both smile at each other.
=Sometimes one doesn’t need words for time together, and sometimes one can’t stop talking. If we can both share our silences and monologuing and dialoguing at each other when we can, and doing better and learning when boundaries or needs come up, I think this relationship will last. You already know I’m on the spectrum and have trauma stuff, hopefully our circuits continue to jive.= she comms over neutrino frequencies to you.
You pause, can I really do good by her? I- well, I get where she’s coming from on a lot, and what I don’t get I respect and still find comfort and her adorable in hearing, so I think I’ll be okay. Your spark and circuits soothe themselves warmly with calm. =Arcee, who you are, means everything to me, and I have a good grasp either of you or respecting you, and frankly relate to you a lot, so I think we’ll be okay.=
“Ooooh…” she warbles and clings to you tightly, her optics streaming tears with her smile pecking your helm once. “I don’t know how to say how much that means to me, that our friendship has blossomed into this, you remind me of dear Aileron-”
The elevator chimes and the doors swish apart, and she tugs you along, spark pulsing rapidly at her compliment while she presses the button for her floor, comparing me to one of her Conjunxes… gods she must be serious.
“Aw Arcee, it’s okay, sorry I made you cry-”
“It’s all right,” she chuckles. “Relatively speaking, I’m very old, dear, and try to take life in fullness, especially since I’m happy, even with all the healed baggage I have. But then, I always felt things strongly along with thinking a lot even when I was young… something my mentors and my sibling tried to help me deal with, to express, and that with my community then… helped me start to find myself much sooner than I would have otherwise.”
The elevator came to a stop, and you got off with her, following to her door, that had a striped flag emblazoned on it sharing the three brightest colors of Arcee’s color scheme, underneath the symbol of the Forge of Solus Prime’s hammer end split by an infinity loop, your spark warming at the sight of it, remembering when you first started wearing that common symbol of transness on your chest. Hmm, I vaguely remember this flag, must be related… “What’s that flag? Looks like you a bit, thought I saw it at one of our meetings once, and maybe missed it elsewhere, haven’t really been looking for it.” Your face tightens. Still have a lot to learn, I think.
“Ah, that’s something I picked up from Earth long ago, a number of human communities still use it today even among all the new aesthetic and gender systems they’ve had over the millennia, with near universal recognition along with symbology from across their expansive history before and after the 20th century CE of the gregorian calendar, after their last empires fell four hundred years later,” Arcee opened the door, and tapped her hand under the flag. “This was first designed in their 1999 by a human trans woman veteran and activist. I was certainly amused to find that my usual color scheme and that of the Seacon combiner team matches this flag when we made contact centuries later. All of us on staff were given flags as gifts, after we explained our protoforming and alt-mode choice process to them…”
Looking into the distance, she walked inside, forgetting to hold the door open for you, which you quickly catch as she stands past the entryway. “There was this one human in their thirties I binary bonded with from then onwards for a very long time, who by doing so with me figured out her transness, Daniel Witwicky…”
You shut the door behind you, curious and trying to think of a reply, and instead hug her at the sight of her slumping, backstacks sagging.
“I miss them… I miss me…” she quakes once, nearly losing her footing.
“What happened to her?” you sit down with her on the floor, getting a look at her face.
Her half-smile seems both distant and intent on you all at once.
She strokes your face with her fist softly. “Oh, dear… she passed away from old age millennia ago. Joined the AllSpark, actually… since she had to become a transformer cyborg for the binary bond, and happily did so, heh, what with their aesthetic desires awakened, which increased after as we blurred when she was tucked inside me,” she laughed. “I’m rambling. What I was trying to say is we hooked up to go immersant. Last time I spoke to her was 11,000 years ago… I saw her lights go out after one last goodbye, body completely crystallized. Part of her- still lives on in me, in here, I am them, after all of this, just as she was me. There was no difference, eventually, just variation.”
“Oh… at least the two of you systems had a happy life, and are still together… I’m so sorry Arcee- Daniel-…” your spark sinks, face trembling, the gaping hole in her life so clear, having done something few bots who weren’t already plural ever tried to do, and the beauty of their closeness having gone so well. Tears well up in your optics. “Gods you’re so beautiful…”
“It’s okay… darling we didn’t mean to sadden you, either… we don’t talk about this much outside of family, at this point, I just feel too tired to do otherwise, going by Arcee suits us fine, so I’m glad you appreciate it. You’re such a sweet soul… we are still happy, we’ve just felt a lot, and I want to feel you.” She moves to put her arms under your thighs and your back, her ankle wheels whirring, engines purring. “May I? Find us somewhere more comfortable to sit. Food can wait, perhaps.”
You nod, and your faceplate folds up into the sides of your face, leaving your mouth in the open, near theirs. “Yes, I think I’d rather be smooching right now too.”
Her optics seem almost aflame with starlight as they glow brightly, and she leans in to pluck at your upper lip once with her own lips, chuckling as you murmur and happily buck with sensation. She lets go, and picks you up without an extra caress, carrying you into the apartment, where a large simple kitchen and dining table sits to the right. Taking in the world around you in her firm grip, you see near the windows of this room are walls covered in paintings, photos, and shelves of memorabilia, boxes of games, and a few metal toys, with several benches on the floor. She sets you down in one, and sits alongside you.
“We should talk boundaries about touch, dear,” they clasped her hands together. “Is there anywhere you don’t want me to go? Any kind of touch you like in particular or any you don’t? Do you mind if we let our sparks hang out after, just to share trust and our light?”
“I, hmm,” you think back on how you’ve moved between answers and comfort over the millennia. “I think I just want things to be soft or firm, caressing anywhere is great, cuddling in whatever position is fine, and um, at some point I want to rub and kiss your backstacks, forearm plating, your chest, your crests, and ankle wheels, I know how much they affirm you… and I think sharing an amicable embraced moment in each others light after would be nice.” You press a hand on their shoulder, and smirk, coolness in your mind and heat in your vents as you do. “Don’t hold back on your enthusiasm, I’ve heard stories about how passionate you are.”
Her optics intent on you with every word, she suddenly cackles after your last sentence, throwing her head back, backstacks wiggling. “Oh you. I suppose it’s public knowledge at this point. That’s all fine by me, and I think for the sake of today, all I want is the same.”
She twists around, her left big ankle passing over your thighs slowly, lighting up your sensors in a heady rush, before settling to the right of you, Arcee now sitting where her ankle had been, her big ridged thighs on top of your own. “I’ll start, pick up pace when you want to, and there’s no shame in not responding in kind.”
She runs her hands along the kibble on your back, and then softly caresses the alt-mode parts mounted there, with little rubs and squeezes. You sigh, sensors and circuits pulsing from there to across your body, a steady cascading of affirmation and sensation, leaving you leaning on her chest, cooing as you feel that every bit of you is as it should be, and in good, beloved hands.
“You like that huh? These parts of you you’ve embraced, in my hands?” She plops a kiss on the top part of you. “Sparring with you over the years was certainly a nice slow burn to this.”
“Mmm,” the immersion into the moment fires up your motors, and you grasp at her back, patting her windshield there, as you softly smooch and nuzzle her chest. You find yourself smiling as her caresses on your back turn to a firm grip, her sighs and murmurs bringing you further into focus, as your hands move to her backstacks, just rubbing the sides of them in reach, a certain calm and satisfaction flaring in you as she laughs and moves to run her hands along your thighs…
Her touch is gentle and mighty in equal measure, pressing and stroking your upper legs with vigor and care, not leaving any dents, while she smooches all over your helm. Your frame, not used to this much attention on your thighs and helm at once, buzzes ecstatically, vapor seeping from your transforming seams, mouth agape looking for somewhere to kiss-
She slowly twists you around to lie across the bench, and still straddling you, pulls you up for a kiss on the lips, the two of you opening and closing mouths upon each other slowly, her arms busy holding you close, yours with more access to her backstacks, patting and spinning her wheels, and embracing the thigh-like stack frames. Every moment brings more heat and sensation, every part of you made real in a way you had been longing for, had done for yourself but were glad to share with someone who had the same understanding, seeking the same trust.
Your T-cog spools up, and your body attempts to transform under her weight until you stop yourself, and open your optics to see her staring, lips apart from yours. Come on, focus, please, the weight is so nice.
“Did you just try to transform?” She asks. “I haven’t seen someone do that from my lovemaking in years. You must be thoroughly enjoying yourself.” She bares her teeth with her smile, and then relaxes her face. “Or it’s jitters or nervousness. Do you need me to get off you so you can get the urge out?”
“Uh- uhm-,” what the bolts do I say? I want to but I also don’t- “If you’ll hold me still, then yes.”
“Sure thing,” she steps off to a stand, and you promptly transform on her bench, and she wraps her arms around your mode, pecking kisses, hugging, and caressing bit by bit across your frame. “Tell me when to stop, cutie.”
The adoration of your alt mode as much as your bot mode leaves you nearly wordless, “I- mmm, I’ll let you know.”
After a thorough twenty minutes of being bathed in her smooches and cuddles, you transform again, exhausted, hungry, and quickly clinging to her waist with your arms. She lets out a little vapor from her seams at last, chuckling, patting your head, hugging you close.
“You okay? Anything you need to talk about? I had a great time, I know you didn’t do everything you wanted, it was a lot huh?” she nuzzles her head against yours.
“Yeah… but it was really nice, nothing went wrong, fuel tank’s running half full but I still want to sit for a while in each other’s light,” you smile, and move to sit facing her on the bench, legs open for her to nudge in. “You’re wonderful, you know that? You really are, seeing you living what you want when you can, makes me so happy… and that I get to be part of that.”
“Awww,” she nudges in, your torsos close to each other, her legs wrapped around your back, hands holding your shoulders as you hug her.
“As a trans gal, as a xenoaesthetic binary bond, as a zoomdare, as a sword mutualist and sapphic, as a car, as a person in all these respects and so much more, I love you, a lot. You've been a good friend these last ten years... I wasn't going to try to look for more partners, but when you asked me out... I had been hoping that you would." Her car hood chest opens up, her cyan spark fully expanded in it’s round chamber amid gray chassis parts, spark shining brightly just above a repository filled by a golden and blue Matrix of Leadership sphere with handles.
“By Gaea…” you stare, jaw dropped, biolights blazing. I’m dating and made love with a Prime?
“Time to let you in on a secret, dear. I have a third name- Arcana Magnus. I didn’t want to be in a weird position of being publicly applauded for my radicality but expected to make the changes as a Prime that the public and especially institutions need to do collectively, so I just act on what my communing with the Matrix and using its powers as inconspicuously as possible. I’ll tell the world when the time is right, that I bear the Matrix of Amalgamous Prime. You understand, of course.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, laughing, feeling a little dizzy with absurdity at the thought of all the pressure she’s been through, that you’ve shared a bit of yourself from the pedestaling or apathy towards your realizations. “Yeah I get it, don’t worry. We’re eleven years in on the Autobot revolution, the time will be soon, I hope.”
Your own chest opens up, exposing your spark, your own light aglow with hers in the dim light of pinks and oranges of the setting sun, the warmth of your exposed sparks engulfing each other.
“Wow…” her gaze falls on your spark. “It’s so nice to see you…” she leans her head in, and your lean yours to bump on hers, holding each other there, as your sparks begin to sing together, chimes and clashes and electric chords, a wordless duet switching registers every beat like the chorus of a Well of Sparks or the AllSpark itself. The song the Autobots have been able to bring out of all life that gathers around their spark-ensemblers just like the memories and visions of spark echoes, transformers or no.
The song continues to transform, until your fuel tank lurches and groans, bringing you out of your meditation on your love for Arcee, yourself, and the cosmos.
“Ah, food might be wise, dearest,” you feel giddy at having used that word for her.
“Right,” she chuckles, and you both laugh briefly. Your chests fold up, and you make your way towards the kitchen, where Arcee pulls out a big jar of iron filings, a square baking pan, a handful of gears, tungsten and chromium spice shakers, and a mid-grade energon bottle from various cabinets. “Fancy some iron filing casserole? It’s Gauge’s favorite. I know you like it spiced, which is how we eat around here anyway.”
“Mmm, yes please,” you smooch her cheek and nuzzle her a little. “Can I help?”
“Hehe, if you really want to, make me a cup of hot beryllium energon, I want something sweet like you to go with dinner tonight. You can use the mid-grade here and find the beryllium with the spices-”
The door near the entryway opens, and you hear five pairs of feet clonk in, and turn to see two short and stout bots, one black and red, and one teal, followed by three larger ones, one bulky shades of green, one broad purple and orange with a visor, and one rounded and curvy with wings. Sideswipe II, Gauge, and their mentors Greenlight, Lancer, and Aileron. Guess we’ll find out if they like me as Cee’s partner and not just a friend-
“Oh my gods, you’re the one mentor Arcee’s been dating?!” Gauge hops on her feet and reaches out palms to press with you in greeting, her excavator arm on her back wagging. You return the gesture, and she beams. “It’s so good to see you! I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve been sparring partners for years… does this mean if it works out you’d be a parent of mine?”
“I suppose so,” you smile softly. “Though you already have four, and that’s not counting Anode, Lug, Grimlock, Hot Rod, Flamewar, and your tutor Galvatron, I can’t imagine what I could add.”
Everyone in the room laughs, and a group hug piles around you briefly before a nice, joyful night ensues, all getting to be yourselves.