Work Text:
Optimus prime was a leader, some bots would even say he was created to lead. Nowadays he had felt less and less like a leader.
He stared down at the table in his office, looking at the files and datapads strewn across the usually tidy surface, a heavy ex-vent leaving his vents. He had been going over things for what felt like groons, but in reality probably wasn't as long. He looked over reports and signed files before passing them off to GHOST employees.
This was never the life he imagined for himself, frankly when in war you learn not to let your hopes stray too far; but the war was over, and this still wasn't the life he expected. So to compensate he threw himself into his work, trying to fix the issues on earth that their war had dragged over, cause if he didnt keep himself busy he wouldn't be able to deny the fact anymore; his life had become boring, mundane and worst of all, dull.
He stared at files, sitting there like he was an archivist all over again. Eventually even he had to admit it felt like Megatron had a point (not his old anarchist ideals, but rather his complaints of being stuck on GHOST’s leash).
Yet as his thoughts wandered to Megatron he groaned and pinched the plating between his optics, he had already been stuck at his desk for long enough, letting his thoughts wander to his partners would only keep him there longer. He needed to finish his work, it was already too close to being overdue.
Prime took pride in being professional, completing tasks efficiently and in a timely manner. Yet his monotonous life wore down on him, it was nearly the same thing every chord, and even the strongest willed bots couldn’t just sit cooped up in an office, completing paperwork and filing reports.
He had to wonder if this is what the humans called an existential crisis.
He felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and in a way it was, as everyone expected him to be the one to fix things.
There was just so much to deal with, from making sure GHOST didn't find out about Bumblebee or the terrans, or making sure humans weren't harmed by Decepticons, and even then it was his job to capture the Decepticons, not on his own but he was the leader, he was supposed to feel in control, he had to make sure the captured bots weren't hurt and-
And finally he was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door.
He looked up from the datapad he was staring at, but not reading.
He expected a GHOST employee, maybe even agent Schloder or agent Croft, there to dump more work on him, or ask about the work he felt he couldn't complete.
He was supposed to be a leader, he was meant to be able to handle himself and everyone else, it was what leaders did, so why couldn't he handle some simple paperwork?
The knock sounded again, he vented a sigh, rubbing his temples as he shook away his thoughts. He looked at whoever was there, steeling himself to deal with whatever was coming his way.
“Do you know how long you were staring into space like that?” Elita One spoke up, her tone almost accusatory “someone might start to think you aren't actually reading that datapad”
The femme walked over, taking the datapad from optimus servos, he put up no resistance, she set the datapad on the desk and as the Prime glanced down at it he realized he hadn't even turned it on.
“I-” Optimus spoke up, only to be cut off.
“You haven't gotten anything done, have you?” Elita raised an optic ridge, looking her partner up and down. Prime slumped back in his chair, servos sifting through various documents.
“I've gotten some work done, I haven't been doing nothing in here” he gestured to a small stack of disorganized papers he had filled out. Elita narrowed her optics as she looked at the pile, comparing the meager pile to the much larger pile of work he hadn’t completed.
“I'm having trouble believing that, especially with how long you were zoning out staring at a datapad, that might i add, you never turned on”
Optimus dropped the papers onto his desk, the paper wafting around, adding to the disorder across his desk. He sighed, the sound lamenting his annoyance and exhaustion, he rested his helm on his servos, staring at his desk.
“Im not getting anywhere with this” he said simply, there was a moment of silence, Elita let the mech attempt to gain his bearings. “Is there a reason why?”
Optimus was silent, hesitating before speaking up. “I'm getting distracted is all, i just need to focus”
Elita crossed her arms, her derma stretching into a frown as she stared at him. “What you need” she began with a sigh, “is rest, you've been working on this all day and clearly you’re getting nowhere” she gestured to the small pile of work optimus completed.
Prime stared at the documents littering his desk before letting out a begrudging sound of agreement, Elita shot the mech a halfhearted glare.
“Please, for once just get some rest without insisting you continue working” Elita drawled, knowing prime was only agreeing to appease her rather than out of concern for his own health. She stepped around the desk, setting a servo on Optimus’ shoulder, her thumb running over the metal in a soothing gesture.
Her concern was evident in her actions, she had known Optimus since long before the war, she knew the mech inside and out. He was always so noble, yet the self sacrificing habits for the sake of work really grated down on her.
As Optimus remained still, not trying to pull away or protest, she took that as her queue to bring him back to his room.
“Come on, up you go big guy” Elita patted his back as she took his arm and began pulling him up. Optimus stood and looked down at Elita, the femme shorter than him but they never cared, there was something akin to affection in his optics. Elita looked back her gaze equally as affectionate while still keeping her serious expression. Even with her professional attitude at least one of the two knew how to worry about themselves.
Optimus looked to the chronometer on the wall as Elita started leading him to the door, still holding on to his arm. It wasn't that late, based on the time he knew the sun had barely set but Elita had still taken the time to check in on him.
He looked at Elita, unable to fight the smile that formed on his faceplates, he thought himself lucky to have someone like her by his side; really he was lucky to have both his sparkmates, he knew the two bots cared for him as much as he cared for them.
“You've been cooped up in here for too long” Elita huffed, unhappy with the way Optimus would bury himself in his work “Megatrons been waiting for us, you more specifically” she rolled her optics.
The two stepped outside optimus’ office and lo and behold megatron was indeed waiting outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed; glaring at every human that walked by.
He stopped and turned his helm as he heard the door opening, his optics looking Optimus up and down.
“You look tired” he stated bluntly, Optimus simply nodded.
“I suppose I've been a bit distracted but-” he was cut off as Elita poked his shoulder, “a bit? A bit?? Mister you need rest, and probably a break too, you've been in there for groons but haven't gotten anything done” her expression softened as she looked at the weary mech. As composed as he tried to seem his faceplates made clear how worn down he was, he was tired, Megatron and Elita understood this; better than the prime himself apparently did.
Megatron stood up straight, setting a servo on optimus’ arm. He pushed gently, bringing the mech down the hall, Elita staying by their side. They walked, their pedesteps heavy on the human made floors, GHOST employees would walk by but they kept their mouths shut as Megatron glared at them.
Eventually they reached Optimus’ room, or atleast what was supposed to be his room. By the day it seemed to become more and more suited for all three bots.
Elita walked over to the berth, fixing the pillows and pulling down the blankets. Megatron guided Optimus to the berth despite the mechs protests saying he could get himself there. Optimus sat down on the berth, moving over so Megatron could sit by his side. It had almost become routine at this point for the three of them. (minus Elita nagging Optimus to rest, usually that was Ratchet's job) Elita sat on the other side of the berth, effectively trapping Optimus between the two.
Optimus leaned back against the pillows while Elita pulled the blankets over the three.
“It's too early to recharge, I'm fine, really” Optimus protested while Elita leaned up against his side, his complaints of not being tired falling on deaf audials.
He tried staying awake, he tried keeping up the facade of not being worn out. But if the last few solar cycles spoke for anything his partners knew he wouldn't be awake long.
Megatron's servo moved to rub primes back while Elita wrapped her arms around Optimus’ arm. They spoke quietly, talking to the tired mech; their voices acting like white noise to the already half asleep bot. He closed his optics, falling into recharge, laying between his two comrades.
Once he dozed off Elita and Megatron went quiet, occasionally sharing glances as they stayed beside their partner. They shifted to lay down, their optics glowing in the dim room.
Megatron watched Optimus’ faceplates relax, seeing how the stress and exhaustion melted away; replaced with the face he had grown so fond of.
Megatron put an arm over optimus’ torso, resting his helm against Prime's neck. Elita slung a leg over Optimus’, her helm resting on his shoulder; the two bots closed their optics, letting themselves rest as they cuddled closer to their partner.
The room was illuminated by the dim starlight, it was quiet save for the sound of their peaceful venting. The three of them laid wrapped up in each other's embrace, letting the worry of their duties on earth disappear, instead replaced with the peaceful moment of silence within the base.
End