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A broken light in the ceiling kept Orion Pax awake.
It flickered erratically— pale blue, then black. Pale blue, a pause, then black. And it came with a buzz. A constant, low buzz that seemed like an itch only he could feel. It drove him crazy, reflecting that same buzz that coated the previous cycles of his life right back in his face. A dull thrum that he felt deep inside his metal, edging around the literal missing core in his chest. From pale blue mornings to pitch black nights, over and over this vibration roofed him.
“D.”
Orion’s voice moved faster than he could register, pulling him out of his chamber. He was across the room, his legs ached as they tried to wake up with him, right in front of where D-16 rested, staring habitually into his sleeping shell.
He whispered again, louder, “D.”
No response.
“D,” He shook D-16’s chest. “Hey, wake up.”
A familiar hand grasped Orion’s wrist, “Stop it.”
D-16’s amber optics flickered to life, his snarl as welcoming as his touch. Orion couldn’t help but grin.
“You thirsty?”
“I’m tired,” D’s optics began to dim.
“D,” Orion interrupted him with an insistent shake. He watched D’s optics flicker, recognizing his internal debate between listening to Orion or his brain, “Come on, D, please?”
“I don’t care how many times you say my name,” D’s voice struggled to speak long as the tiredness consumed his vocal processors. “I’m not going.”
D tried to shake him off again, but Orion’s grip was firm. Orion knew well that D wasn’t using his full strength. This was how their nights always went, and for Orion, this was a battle easily won.
“Let go—”
“Sh!”
An unfamiliar voice cut into the night. Both miner’s heads whipped around. A bot was off in the distance staring daggers at them as they tried to return to sleep. When Orion’s gaze found D’s again, his viscous expression was enough to force Orion to stifle a laugh. D had always been quick to anger, and though Orion’s sure it would be considered cocky of himself, he loved how he always knew what to say to get D mad. Orion understood well his fury didn’t come out of a place of true hatred, and that there would always be a bittersweet undertone to any words that came of their dynamic. It was a refined companionship led by plenty of stellar cycles.
“I’ll pay,” Orion’s smile grew.
The broken light above them flickered again—pale blue, then black.
“Maccadam’s?”
Orion cleared his throat, “Ah—er, no.”
D’s optics shut off.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Orion shook him urgently, his voice raising higher in desperation. “There’s this place I went to a couple of nights ago, it’s good, I swear!”
D’s face scrunched up in skepticism. Orion stared pleadingly into his optics. He had hoped D could feel the same fatigue from their monotony as he had. It might’ve been their song and dance to wake up and escape in the middle of the night, but it was the spontaneity that Orion craved. He needed D to assist in getting him out of this rut, even if it were just for a single night. As the pause in the flickering light edged further on, the distant spinning of fans and the sound of exhalation from smoke pipes filled the quiet night.
D-16’s lips pursed as he sighed in defeat, “Fine. You win.”
Orion’s face beamed.
⥏ ⥎ ⥑
Orion lied. The bar was terrible.
It took them forever to find it—tucked in a backstreet corner in some place they hardly recognized. The interior was dim and dingy, matching the exterior, sticky with spilled oil, and about four good seats if you squinted. The furniture was old and worn, with dated signs and decorations for activities none of them recognized. There were maybe four other bots in the building, including the bartender, so the two miners had to speak quietly if they didn’t want everyone to know their business. Not to mention the air of trouble around the regulars as they sipped on their low-grade energon.
The only quality that made up for the terrible atmosphere was the cheap prices and the smile that finally curled on D-16’s face.
“Is this even real energon?” D-16 chuckled low,
Orion grinned, motioning to the half-empty bottle on the table, “You’ve had five glasses, so I sure hope it is.”
D laughed laxer as he set down his glass. He was holding himself together well, compared to Orion who was already feeling a buzz in his systems. They were in a far corner of the bar, a dark corner with no windows to help avoid the occasional glance from the bartender, though it didn’t seem to help all that much.
D caught the bartender’s gaze and commented under his breath, “Judging us for what.”
Orion shrugged, throwing a glance over his shoulder, “Eh, ignore him. We’re definitely not the first miners he’s seen.”
D16’s expression was unreadable. He stared distantly into the glass of energon he just finished. There was something there, Orion knew that much, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he laughed half-heartedly, pouring more energon into his friend’s empty cup, “He should be treating us like Primes. He probably gets—what—three customers a day?”
D downed the glass in one brisk swig, swallowing hard as he set it down with a previously absent force.
“And look,” Orion continued, resolute. “He ain’t got a cog either. We could run our own bar if we wanted to. Pax and D’s. Wouldn’t it be fun?”
“It’d be trash.” D protested.
Orion’s optics perked up, “I said it’d be fun, not good!”
The two laughed simultaneously, the quiet space of the bar amplifying their joy. Orion watched D’s face as his laughter subsided, attention drifting back to his empty glass. He twirled it between his fingers, watching the reflection dance along its curves. Despite being a heavyweight, Orion could always tell when the energon was taking hold of D. He waited patiently for D, his optics darting from his own friend's eyes down to his fumbling digits, then back up the ceiling.
That light kept flickering light.
Orion’s voice softly broke and ended the silence, “If you weren’t a miner, what would you be?”
D couldn’t meet his gaze. His fingers stopped fiddling with his empty glass as he spoke quietly, “I’m a miner.”
The light flickered above—pale blue, then black. A buzz filled Orion’s ears.
“That’s a cop-out,” Orion pressed. “Here, tell me—what do you think I’d be?”
Finally, D’s attention was torn away from his glass to meet his. “A historian.”
“Really? That’s…kind of boring.”
“You already steal from the archives. Why wouldn’t you want to be closer to it?” Orion could recognize the sound of D’s span sputtering slightly. Of course, D knew what Orion liked; he didn't have a reason to hide anything from him. And Orion knew him well enough to recognize he was being more genuine than not with his answer.
Orion chuckled, his eyebrows scrunching, “But you don’t think I could have a cool job? I think you’d have a cool job.”
D cocked his head, “That depends on what you think a ‘cool job’ is.”
“Okay, so you tell me.”
D observed Orion, then answered, “Sentinel—”
Orion groaned, cutting him off with a burst of laughter, “Ah, I knew you were gonna say that! Don’t even know why I asked.”
D looked embarrassed, hunched over in his seat while pouring the both of them another drink. “Well, why would you even ask then? It’s what I always say.”
A warm feeling was overwhelming Orion. He could feel the space between being filled with affection. There was so much Orion wanted to tell him. The energon flowing through his body lulled him back and forth, drifting between a state of courageousness and sensibility. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes going from the light to D’s face; to how the light reflected off the metal of his nose to the bright amber of his optics. Orion laughed, almost maniacally at his thoughts. The words fell from the reckless side of his brain.
“I think you could be a Prime.”
D-16 choked on his drink, coughing out, “W-what? Man, you can’t be serious. There’s no way.”
“I’m serious!” Orion barked out another laugh, then rushed a hand out to grab at D’s before he could pull it away, “You’re so by the book, it’s killing me!”
“But Sentinel Prime isn’t just ‘by-the-book’,” D spoke in such a flustered tone that Orion found it amusing. “He inspires bots. He’s not just a prime, he’s a leader, and—and he’s never made mistakes or done stupid stuff to get himself or anybody else demoted before—”
“Aw, D, c’mon—”
“And he most certainly doesn’t have an annoying best friend that wakes him up in the middle of the night to go to some bad, cheap bar just to talk about nonsense!”
Orion laughed, tightening his grip on D’s hand, “Yeah, well, I like talking about nonsense with you!”
“I know, and that’s why…that’s why I need you to stop asking me about what-ifs. I don’t care about that,” D spoke quietly.
Orion’s smile faltered. D spoke faster than him.
“I’m just a miner, Orion. And that’s okay.” D’s voice lowered, taking on a tone of vulnerability. “I’ve got a place to sleep, a life to live…and someone who cares about me. Why would I care about what I could be when I’m okay with what I am? I know you don’t like it here, that you wish it was different. But isn’t it okay, at least for now?”
There was a silence.
It was heavy, somehow both suffocating and comfortable. A bittersweet feeling Orion didn’t have the words to describe. The light was flickering but seemed to reflect on D’s face softer now. It was a rhythmic dance that matched the murmurs of the patrons and the ambiance of bots from outside. For a moment, it didn’t matter that they were in some crappy bar that Orion couldn’t remember the name of. It didn’t matter that they were miners who, at least Orion, dreamed of being something more. They were just that. Orion Pax and D-16.
They both seemed to notice their hands were still touching at the same time, but before D could try and pull away again, Orion clutched him tighter. “The mines suck. I hate it.”
“I know.”
Orion’s gaze softened, hoping D would do the same, “I wish I could be okay with it, but I’m not. That’s why I like coming out to bad, cheap bars with you.”
Orion could feel D’s hand tremble under his fingers. It wasn’t out of fear, Orion was sure of that, but something in him wanted to reassure D anyway. He tightened his grip, “And I’m not gonna stop waking you up in the middle of the night, I hope you know that. And next time I’ll shake you harder, make everyone around us mad. Might even punch you. We’ll see.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Orion squeezed D’s hand as hard as he could. Orion teased, “You see? Yeah, I’m only using half my strength on you.”
D laughed, slamming a fist on the table as he breathed out heavily, “Okay, you got me. No more whining. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Orion squeezed tighter, still firm but more playful.
Half laughing and half wheezing out of pain, D exhaled, “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Orion let go but didn’t remove his hand from D’s. The laughter faded out and something heavier took its place. Tension hung thick in the air as no words were shared between them. It was no longer something light and airy; it was something deep. It wasn’t foreign to them at all, but something rarely acted upon. Only a fond touch between them remained. Orion dropped his head forward, energon flowing thickly through his system. He stared absent-mindedly at their hands held together. Against the table, they sat, tingling with a sensation that rivaled the buzz he felt back in their chambers. This feeling refused to fade and Orion could feel himself almost chasing it.
There was a soft thud. D’s forehead pressed gently against Orion’s own, neither of them daring to look the other in their optics. For the first time in a long while, Orion felt speechless. He could hear D’s vents louder than ever; even louder than when he heard them in the cold, silent nights back at the mines. He can feel the air exhaling out of him and brushing his own body. A heat combined with the sensation irradiating from their hands. A heat that wasn’t just from the energon.
D-16 shifted slightly. Orion was frozen. D softly, slowly moved his head, and pressed his forehead into Orion’s shoulder plate. He burrowed himself into where Orion’s neck met his shoulders. Without a moment to waste, Orion tilted his head to rest against his.
D was the first to reach his hand and wrap it around Orion’s shoulders in a sort of awkward hug. It wasn’t perfect, but they were too tipsy to care about the positioning. Too focused on diving further into the other's presence. The boundary that was there melted away bit by bit with every Astro-second
Orion couldn’t stop himself from laughing, breaking the silence. He pulled a little back against his better judgment. D was left leaning over the table, looking almost embarrassed as his head hung low. Before he could make a full retreat, Orion lifted his chin with his hand and met his face with a soft smile.
No one said anything.
That was okay.
D leaned in and planted a kiss beside Orion’s mouth, unsure.
Orion laughed again, and D gave him another peck, closer to his lips this time.
The light flickered off.
Orion laughed, a whisper in the room, “You missed.”
A pale blue lit the room.
D’s optics shined with irritation and allure. He planted a kiss briefly against Orion’s lips.
Another kiss.
Then another.
The pale light bathed them again.