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D-16 was always very punctual when it came to recharging. Gaining enough rest in between arduous shifts in the mines was becoming more difficult to obtain, not just for him, but for every other sector in Iacon’s energon-rich underground. With the resource ever dwindling, and the stakes for harvesting it from their planet rising with every passing cycle, there was less and less time to spend anywhere else besides the mines.
It always intrigued him as to why his best friend wanted to spend it somewhere else besides his berth.
The invitations D-16 got from Orion in the late hours of the night at first were few and far between. Of course, D didn’t know Orion that well, and vice versa. They met when D transferred into the sector, and the silver bot made it clear that he liked to keep to himself. Obviously, this changed when their comradery turned into a real and true friendship. So his friend would invite him on late night escapades; he would sound irritated and unwilling, but would give in and go with Orion to wherever he had in mind. He liked having such a strong bond with another bot, something he never thought he’d have in his lifetime.
None of the relationships he had with other bots turned out to be good ones, or strong ones. They were built off of necessity, because of work. It started out that way with Orion, but blossomed into something bigger. It was something he clung to whenever he felt hopeless about his position or his future. He could count on Orion to be there, stirring up trouble, yes, but wanting D-16 and only D-16 to scold him and stick by his side.
D-16 was having a practically uneventful recharge; no dreams (or nightmares, in his personal case, which showed up more than he’d care to admit), just silent, cable-weary rest. The longer he was out, the more he felt the aches in his metal joints loosening, and the stinging in his optics lessen. Recharge always helped in healing physical aches and pains. Somewhere in the middle of this well-needed rest, however, someone disturbed it. D felt a light, two-digit knock on his helm. Then another.
“D. Psst, D.”
D-16 hears his name being whispered cautiously near his audials. Immediately, he knows who it is. And because he does, he pretends he’s still fully asleep. Just to tick off his red and blue friend. D-16 couldn’t help but be humored by his annoyance, mostly because he knows it doesn’t run deeper than these small moments.
“D, come on, what are you dreaming about? Wake up,” Orion pleads rather desperately, his voice rising only slightly in volume.
He grabs D’s shoulders next, giving him a firm shake. D’s thoughts jumble, and the back of his helm hits his recharge slab rougher than he would have liked it to. He finally shakes off the last bit of recharge he’s been clinging to and lets a grimacing expression contort on his faceplate. He hears Orion hop back, steps loud and echoing on the grated metal floor of the barracks.
D opens his optics, and it is indeed Orion standing there. The large room is dark save for the faint glowing of every bot’s recharge slab and the dingy overhead lights that were permanently on. And Orion’s blue optics, lighting up his face and parts up his upper body. He obviously didn’t want to wake up anyone beside his friend. That’s happened more often than not, and sometimes thwarted his plans of going out wherever or doing whatever without being seen.
“Pax,” D hisses, “I would think you’d be too tired to be up this late.”
“You know me.” Orion shrugs, smiling pointedly, and D huffs in response.
“We worked double shifts, how are you not asleep?”
Orion looked tired. It didn’t take D careful clicks of scrutinizing to notice that the bot was just covering his weariness. He saw it instantly, but that didn’t deter his friend from losing his sheepish grin.
“Overtired, I guess?” The bot shrugs his shoulders.
“Figures…” D knowingly mutters back.
It isn’t silent between them for long. Orion wasn’t going to leave it at that. No, he was stubborn when he wanted to be, which was almost all of the time. He takes a step closer to D’s recharge slab, gesturing to the other side of the room where the exit was with a jerk of his helm.
“Hey, I know you’ve been resting, but do you wanna go out?” he asks.
D gives him a narrow stare. “Where do you have in mind this time?”
“Um, nowhere, really. Just…walking around town, maybe find a new hangout spot.”
“Getting into trouble. Pissing off some cogged bots. Almost falling into a waste chute.” D adds in a quiet tone, but it was loud enough for Orion to hear in the practically silent barracks.
“That wasn’t entirely my fault!” Immediately after speaking, his words echo through the room, and he claps his servos over his mouth. D’s glare also gets him to lower his voice. “It looked like a vent,” he mutters with his optical ridge furrowed.
“Mm-hmm.” D hums, all while massaging the dull helm-ache settling between his optics. And to think that night would have been a good one, where he wasn’t awoken by anything, or any bot trying to get him to tag along in another ‘Orion Pax Late Night Escapade That Would Probably Get Them Into Deep Trouble If They Were Caught’.
“So…”
“I’m thinking, Pax.” D cuts off Orion, holding out a servo.
Orion leans on the side of D’s berth and fondly shakes his helm. D only has to turn his head to the right, and he’s facing him. The glow emanating from the slab bathes his friend in a dark blue glow.
“You can think faster than that, buddy.”
D always saw fondness in Orion’s gaze when he looked at him. It was how he knew he cared. Sometimes, in small moments like these that housed nothing but silence and the two of their interactions, were overwhelming to D. He turns away from Orion, onto his side.
“I’ll pass, then,” he breathes.
He doesn’t see Orion’s expression, but he knows it’s one of disappointment and disbelief (though no was usually D’s first answer to Orion’s proposals of hanging out at this time of night).
“What? Ah, come on, D. I don’t wanna go out by myself. It’s boring.” He hears him tiptoe over to the left side of his slab, and he sticks his face close to D’s. “Hey, just for a little bit. Not as long as last time. We can take a walk. A-And I’ll find something really cool for you when we’re out.”
D rolls onto his back, sits up a bit, somewhat flustered by the proximity. He gets like that, sometimes. It’ll be okay for Pax to get close, then when he realizes what his friend is doing, he’ll overthink about it until it’s too awkward for him to stand. He pushes past this sudden embarrassment, keeping his usual gruff tone of voice.
“I don’t want you spending your money on me, Pax, you know that. Save it for-”
“-For something really important. Yeah, I know, you told me.” Orion finishes with a slight chuckle. “Fine. I won’t buy anything.”
“You’re not stealing anything either.” D quips before Orion can let a sly smile form on his face. The red and blue bot frowns dramatically instead, rolling his blue optics.
“Sheesh, maybe I should go by myself.”
There’s quiet in the room again. D weighs his options. One would grant him ample energy to get through his shift in the mines coming up shortly. One would grant him more time screwing around with his best friend, making sure they didn’t get caught by any of their superiors on the way out of the mines, and for a short while living in the moment.
Orion was silently scuffing his pedes across the floor until he heard D stand. The silver bot stretches his arms and rolls his shoulders, any last bit of sleep gone from his processor. He shoots Orion a light grin.
“Let’s go, Pax, before we wake up anyone else.”
Orion pumps his fist in victory as quietly as he can manage. Then he grabs D’s servo and leads him through the room, past their other fellow mining bots deep in stasis (hopefully, even after Orion’s whisper-shouting). Orion marches in front of D like he’s leading D through a way he doesn’t know about. The silver bot lets him, inwardly clinging to the warm feeling his servo felt by being held. They go through the main exit of the barracks, but then navigate through a series of smaller halls and doorways. They both have been down the path many times before.
When they reach the last door, Orion pulls it open, and they’re greeted by the sight of bright, beautiful Iacon.
—
The lights of Iacon always shone differently when bots were set to go into recharge. When the streets and highways were bustling with activity, the buildings glowed gold. The tinted windows cast blue, purple, and yellow kaleidoscopes of color all around the city. Now, with the highways un-driven, and the trains powered down, it took on another, darker life. The faint lights that still shone instead cast the sprawling buildings into dark blue and purple tones. It was harder to see where one building ended and another began, even more difficult to find the outlines of the towers hanging overhead.
D hasn’t been out of the lower levels of the mines in a long time. Old memories of the city flicker through his processor as he steps onto a road near the exit he and Pax took. Yes, those past times were exactly like this sight he was seeing. His home city, where he came online, where he spent his time working and his time off.
Orion is soaking it all in as well, taking a few deep intakes as he raises his face to the sky-high architecture peering over their helms. Already, he looks more at ease. And happier. It’s enough to lift D’s groggy mood. When his friend is finished looking, he beckons him closer. They start to walk down the road, side by side.
“So, is walking around all you want to do?” Pax questions D, interrogating.
“You suggested that’s what we do, so yes, that’s all I want to do,” he answers rationally, calmly, which elicits a bored groan from his friend.
“I did say that…” he murmurs, then exclaims rather loudly, “Well, I take it back! We’re doing something fun!”
D wants to shush him, but as he looks around, he remembers there’s no one there to tell them off. Their superiors were back in the barracks. There was no one on the street with them. He settles on a grumble and an eye roll.
“Your definition of fun is way too wild for this time of night.”
“Ah, you’re probably right about that.”
D’s optics quickly shifted to Orion, who was now walking in front of D. He starts smiling lightly when he sees Orion’s gleeful expression looking back at him, stepping a pace or two quicker to catch up with Orion.
“I know I am.”
They’re walking side by side once again, quiet as they look around the city. They come up to the train stop, where they usually wait for the bigger express trains to come barreling by to pick them and other cogless bots up. Now, the station was empty, the lights dimmed. It was eerie, but in a comforting way.
“Oh, hey, I know that there’s a little business around here…hmm…” Orion suddenly trails off. D turns his helm to see him carefully reading the neon signs on the right side of the walkway. Soon, he points to one hunched over building, nestled between a far bigger one and a narrow alley.
“Right there. Follow me.”
The glowing sign says that the place is a bar. Before D can fully protest, he’s being dragged along by his wrist by Orion. But instead of going to the front door, he ducks into the alley and stops by one of the purple-tinted windows. There’s a back door, and it’s propped open. Light chatter filters through the small opening. D isn’t sure what Orion is meaning to do until they both are able to see through the doorway. The bar is right by this door, with patrons sitting under dim blue lights, talking to one another, laughing and going on about things neither of them can hear. And right behind the long curving table are shelves full of expensive high-grade, nothing either of them had ever gotten the chance to drink.
Both bots can’t help but gawk at the fine collection, crouching low next to the doorway with only the tops of their helm and optics in view.
“That’s a lot of high-grade…” D murmurs in wonder.
Orion nudges him in the shoulder.
“Do you wanna go in for a glass?” he asks, then starts rooting through his subspace, “Slag, I didn’t bring any shanix.” He huffs, disappointed, a slight pout on his lips. “And I don’t think they’ll serve that stuff to mining bots.”
D knows that it’s probably a true statement. All of the bots in the big room they were peering into were cogged, their paint-jobs pristine and heights towering. And judging by the rich shine to the cubes the high-grade was being stored in, it was a well-respected, high priced establishment. Even if they did conjure up enough money for a cube or two, the bartender could very well turn them down. They had the right to.
Annoyance began bubbling up inside D’s spark, about how this fact that he and Orion have come to live with was so easily stated between them. Yes, it was normal in their lives to be seen just as cogless Iaconian miners. Still, a small part of D, the part of him that wanted to be more than that, thought that it was a horrible way of thinking. That’s why he wanted to move up in his sector, because of the possibility he could be seen as someone better.
Orion felt the same way, but just in that regard. He never wanted to stick entirely to protocol. That’s where they differed.
D can’t deny that a little bit of high-grade sounded tempting, and well-needed, even though it was late at night before another set of long shifts. One glance at Orion tells him he’s thinking the same thing. His blue optics flit between the cubes longingly.
D-16 could have walked away if his processor wasn’t so foggy from exhaustion and the itching thought that maybe this would make Pax happy.
“Ugh, frag it all.” he ends up hissing after mulling the situation over, and gets up from his crouching position.
“D? Where are you going?”
D looks over his shoulder and puts a digit to his lips. “Shh, Pax. Just-just stay there, and be quiet.”
Orion clamps his mouth shut and nods. D turns back to the doorway, optics narrowed in concentration. His steps were as quiet as they could be, but with the chatter going on inside, they were practically silent. He waits until the bartender is at the furthest end of the bar, and he partially steps inside the room. Whatever cube is closest to him on the shortest shelf is what he grabbed, not even bothering to see what exact kind it was. Before the bartender could walk back, D jumps backwards out of the doorway. He almost trips, but Orion had stood up and put steadying servos on his back. A disbelieving laugh erupts from him; he starts pushing D toward the road.
“Oh, slag! Run, D!” he whisper-shouts, and the two of them do their best to run from the door without making any large noises.
When their pedes soon hit the familiar smooth terrain of the walkway they had just been previously walking down, they do their best to look as normal as possible, just in case any other bot were around to see them exiting the alley. D holds the cube of high grade defensively in both servos behind his back. Orion glances behind them, then quickly looks forward. No words are spoken between them until they’re a good distance away from the bar.
The red and blue bot’s joyous-sounding laughter pulls D from his racing thoughts, ranging from being self-berating to completely shocked about how he had pulled that off. When he looks over at his friend, he’s almost doubling over, his steps fumbling and clumsy.
“What the heck happened?! That was cool, D! And here you were, lecturing me about not stealing anything while we’re out!” he exclaims between breaths, steadying himself by holding onto D’s arm.
He starts shushing the bot, shaking his hand off of him, though he immediately regrets doing so. “Pax, if you don’t shut up, I’ll make you!” he hisses.
“Ha ha! Don’t, D, I’m sorry!” Pax apologizes, a little too quickly, but D knows that he means it.
The silver bot exhales slowly. He looks down at the high-grade in his servos. D isn’t much of a drinker, but he has indulged once in a while, when there was too much monotony in his work schedule. That happened rarely.
“Slag, that was a bad idea.”
He speaks more to himself, however Orion hears him. His blue servo finds its way onto D’s shoulder, making D turn his optics away from the cube.
“I mean…maybe. But, hey! You did it, and nothing happened! The barkeep won’t even know it’s gone.” Then a smirk appears on his face, illuminated for a brief few seconds by a deep yellow streetlight they walk past. “I’m finally rubbing off on you.”
D at first, thinks that’s a horrible statement. He was at the top of their sector, never once stepping out of line on his own (the only times he did were minor protocol infringements, just to help Orion, of course). If Orion got the impression that all of his hijinks were going to be copied by D in the future, just as many times as him, then he was completely wrong. D suddenly wants to lecture his friend, about how the action was driven by sleep deprivation and the desire to appease Orion’s rambunctious attitude that was equally sleep deprived.
But then he stops himself, partially because the speech would take too much of his time and energy, and partially because the sight of Orion’s giddy, albeit obviously tired, grin makes his guilt suddenly feel lessened. The reason he did it was for Pax, wasn’t it? And this was the reaction he wanted from his friend for going through with the idea.
So he just smiles, because it was only for tonight. He’d never do anything like that ever again, if Pax ever dragged him out and wanted to get into some sort of trouble.
Orion extends a servo. D gives him the cube. As he examines it, he hums, excited.
“It looks good.”
“Yeah, really good…” D points to the label. “This costs as much as working ten shifts.”
“Kinda glad we didn’t bring any money,” Orion confesses, “Let’s find a place to drink it.”
The two continue walking while examining the streets. They end up turning around to avoid having to walk farther back to the barracks, scanning the stacked landscape for an isolated spot that they could use. Orion ends up seeing the perfect spot. Right across from the train station, there was a taller building with a flat roof housing a spinning hologram, advertising a racing tournament that was going to be hosted in a few cycles. It was surrounded by taller buildings on three sides except for the front, where D and Orion stood below. While D kept the high-grade stored in his subspace, the two found a way to the top of the building. Orion climbed up first, finding the best footing on the metal window sills first and helping D by telling him where to go. When Orion reached the roof, he offered a servo to his friend to help him up the rest of the way.
The view was a very nice one. D saw the train station they had just been down by and much farther beyond. The hanging architecture was the perfect backdrop, all of Iacon’s glimmering wealth shining through the night. He saw Iacon Tower, the tallest structure in the city. Even above that was the smallest opening. It led to the surface of Cybertron, much too high for any bot to reach in a cycle. Though D had looked through it to see if he could catch a glimpse of the world that lay above, he never saw anything other than darkness.
Even now he tried, his yellow optics concentrating on the hole in Iacon’s glittering glory. His pedes took him to the ledge of the building, holding the thin railings that had been bolted down to the roof. He still couldn’t see anything. Orion’s voice pulled him away before he could try again.
“Are you done looking? Can we crack open the cube now?” he asks, a twinge of impatience in his tone.
D takes a step back with an irritated grumble. “Fine.”
When he pulls out the cube of high-grade, Orion comes bounding up to his side. He watches intently as D opens it, the smooth purple liquid swirling in the container enticingly. D sees the excitement on Orion’s face as he does so, and can’t help but smile himself. He offers it to him to have the first sip.
His friend takes it wordlessly, and brings it to his lips, taking a small drink. Instantly, his optics widen and a surprised hum leaves his mouth.
“That’s fragging delicious,” he states with a giddy smile.
“Let me try.”
D takes the cube back, raising it to his mouth. As soon as the purple liquid hits his glossa, his optics widen as well with disbelief. It tasted nothing like the high-grade he’s had before. What he had was watered down, barely tasting like much. This was rich and full. It tasted expensive, finely processed and filtered. He would go so far as to say it was the best thing he’s ever tasted.
Orion was watching him the entire time, equally excited for D to taste it himself. The joy on his face seemed to have doubled when seeing the silver bot’s reaction. D exhales dramatically, turning the cube in his hand.
“It’s really good.” He smiles, looking back over at Orion. “Okay, I will admit…this was worth you draggin’ me out here.”
Orion mirrors his expression. They decide to take turns with the cube, taking small sips then passing it off to each other. To stop themselves from drinking too much on their turns, they start talking, leaning against the guard rails while facing the bright Iaconian night. Both of them wanted to make the high-grade last longer than a few clicks. When D’s had a few small sips, he could feel the high-grade having an effect on him. So quickly, he mused, when usually it took a couple cubes of the cheaper kind to get him a fraction buzzed. Some of the persistent aches in his frame were dulled by warmth spreading through his cables. The nagging of his processor’s thoughts died down, clearing his mind if only by a little. He sighed deeply, resting his arms on the railings, letting himself deflate. The sensation felt good.
His friend was simmering down as well. Funny enough, drinking made Orion talk in a quieter voice (Primus knew it was near impossible to get him to stop chatting as loudly as he could whenever he had something to say). He was looking out at the city, the creases in his faceplate smoothed over by a calm look. D caught him staring at him as he drank from their shared cube, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was focusing on. He didn’t want to question it; he was relaxed, simply pointing out things he saw far out into the city, bringing up the race advertisement blaring its sharp colors behind them.
“Maybe we’ll have the shift off so we can go see it,” D muses.
Orion nods in reply. “That’d be fun. Maybe Mirage’s racin’ in it. Guy’s fast.”
Another sip for the both of them. They kept talking, useless rambling that got quieter and easier the longer it went on. Soon, it died down. The high-grade in their systems made it a bit tricky to speak. D wasn’t drunk by any means; Orion wasn’t either. No matter how strong this energon was, it wasn’t enough to render them into stumbling fools. It brought about a calmness to both of them, one they welcome. D saw no use to huff or act annoyed, and Orion saw no use in speaking in his usual loud tone.
But, for D, this buzz made it easier for the thoughts that did form in his processor to become words. As he swallows down another rationing sip of the high-grade, he turns to Orion. The red and blue bot had his back resting against the railing, leaning casually with his arms up, finger slowly drumming a rhythm in the air. He was watching the racing advertisement spin. If D looked hard enough, he could see the eye-catching colors, red and green and gold, reflected in his optics (and indeed did he look and see them).
“I’ve gotta ask, Pax. Why aren’t you sleeping? Is something wrong?”
Orion glances over at him; D notices the thin dark lines under his optics, tell-tale signs of his exhaustion still clinging to him.
“Ah, well…I don’t know, really. Just wasn’t in the mood to rest.” He chuckles. “Like usual.”
That wasn’t a lie. The reason why he wasn’t more surprised with him waking him up that night was because it’s happened before.
“I’m happy to go out with you, but you need your rest. You know that.” His tone isn’t as harsh as it usually is, but it still comes across as stern.
“Yeah,” Orion replies, looking back at the advertisement.
“We have to work for a while, and I don’t want you to be too tired to do your job.”
Orion holds up a servo. “‘Cause you’ll have to vouch for me to Elita and Darkwing, and it might drop you down a tier, and you’ll have to lecture me about being a dumbaft.” He ticks the reasons off on his digits, earning a snort from D.
“All of those things, but more importantly,” He nudges his shoulder. “I don’t want you getting hurt in the mines. Yes, you can handle it, though I know you’d rather be doing anything else. You’re tough, too, one of the toughest bots I know.”
At this, Orion grins. His faceplate starts to flush a deep blue.
“Aw, I’m flattered, D.” He waves a hand. “You’re tough, too…strong shoulders,” he murmurs, clearly rambling a bit, but doesn’t seem to mind.
D doesn’t mind either. He likes when Orion throws him compliments. He knows he means them. After offering the high-grade back to him, he continues to talk. It was a bit more difficult than usual to enunciate his words with full clarity (Pax had no problem. His voice was always smooth when he talked normally, or at a whisper) but he was going to get his point across, nonetheless.
“Pax, I have full faith in you to get through it, but it always worries me when you don’t take proper care of yourself.”
Orion’s optical ridge pinches with acknowledgement. His mouth turns downward into a semblance of a frown. He swirls the high-grade in its container, around and around in mesmerizing purple waves.
D finds that there is real truth in Orion’s upcoming apology. He expected there to be, of course. Orion did care about him, even when he dragged him out, or pulled dumb stunts, or was just being stupid in general. He never had any ill intent toward D, and D knows he never will.
“Sorry, D. I was just restless tonight, more than usual. Sorry if I sounded whiny, too…I didn’t want to be alone.”
There was a tense pull of nerves in Orion’s voice, one that D unmistakably heard. His own spark thrummed with sympathy. Even though Orion knew that D’s gruff attitude with him before wasn’t filled with ill intent, he still feels bad for not agreeing with him right away. There was always a reason regarding Orion Pax’s actions.
He isn’t sure anything he’ll say will comfort him much, so he settles on resting a servo on his shoulder. The metal under his digits is warm, that warmth surely being fueled by the high-grade.
Orion finally looks at him in the optics, wordlessly thanking him with a (shy?) smile, gaining a bit of his mischief back to state, “Next time…give me a punch in the face, a real hard one, and I’ll go back to my berth.”
D has to laugh. It elicits a similar one from his friend, harmonious and familiar. D wouldn’t mind hearing it as much as he hears Pax hysterically laughing (because even if the reason he’s laughing that hard and that loud is nowhere near funny to D, it’s contagious, and he ends up laughing along with him).
“You shouldn’t give me instructions like that, Pax, ‘cause I will follow through with them,” he warns with a light smile on his face, flush and warm, giving him a light tap in the chassis to prove his point.
Orion grins, whatever traces of that solemn expression he once wore are gone. “Ha! I know you will.”
They fall silent. Orion gives D the cube. When he looks down into it, there’s only a little left, just enough for one more drink. He downs it quickly, sighing as it falls down his intake with a satisfying burn.
“That was the last of it.”
When D stands up straight, his balance noticeably off. He held onto the railing with one servo to steady himself for a moment; there was still a long trek back to the mines, and he didn’t want to fall over in the middle of the road. So he told his systems to stay on full alert, just until he could fall back into his berth and sleep off the high-grade buzz in time for their next shift.
“Oh, man, that stuff was good. Sad it’s all gone, though,” Orion states, stretching his arms over his helm.
“Yeah, wish it lasted longer.” D examines the empty cube until he hears a yawn. His helm jerks up upon hearing the sound, and he sees Orion covering his mouth with a servo, optics pinched shut. The silver bot exhales sharply.
“Well, look at that. Someone’s finally tired?” he asks Orion, lightly humored by the fact that he’s finally starting to feel tired, after walking and running so far from the barracks and indulging in some of the best high-grade he’s ever gotten his servos on. His friend shrugs one shoulder as he massages the back of his neck, clearly guilty.
“Yep, that’ll do it,” he agrees.
D was thankful that he wasn’t going to ignore his exhaustion anymore. He straightens his posture, takes another look out at Iacon, then turns to his friend to wave him over.
“Let’s get back to the barracks, then.”
Orion smiles, and he nods. He goes to put his full weight on his pedes, and D’s about to turn back to the ledge of the building where they first climbed up. But he sees a flash of red and blue teetering over, about to fall, and he drops the empty high-grade container to catch Pax by the arms.
“Woah, Pax, easy,” he grunts, unprepared for holding the other up.
Orion looks behind him, helm lolling back as he puts on a falsely accusing glare. “You were in the way.”
“You’re not that drunk. Get up, dumbaft,” he reproaches, but Orion doesn’t heed his wishes. He instead puts all of his top weight onto D, who lets out a surprised curse.
He retorts with a slur to his words, obviously false, “Yes…I am…I can feel it…”
“Sure you are. And I’m secretly a Prime.” D begins lifting him up so he can stand on his own. It wasn’t going to be that easy, he soon finds out, because Orion willingly lets his feet slide out from under him. D has to wrap an arm around him and turn him around so he’s facing him.
“How do you know, D-16? I’m…an enigma…” He wiggles his digits for emphasis.
D rolls his optics, his fogged over and slightly hazy vision focusing on trying to meet Pax’s. When he does, he lets his faceplate fall into a serious frown, optical ridge furrowed.
“I’ll leave you on this roof and let Darkwing come and drag your aft back to the mines,” he deadpans.
And it sounds convincing enough to the buzzed red and blue bot in his arms. He instantly straightens up the best he can, holding his thin servos up in surrender. There’s a knowing look on his face, one that isn’t truly afraid of his threat, but knows that if he stalls too much longer, it could possibly happen. D was a serious bot.
“Hey, there, no need to do that! I’m just kidding! See, look at you, so observant.” He tries complimenting him again to smooth his joke over, and luckily for him, it works, mostly because D was now definitely too tired to argue. The sooner they got back to the mines, the sooner he could fall back into well-needed recharge. Yes, this outing was nice, if he cared to admit it, but he wasn’t going to spend any more time than needed to be out here, not when a brutal string of shifts awaited them.
D lets Orion go, and his friend stays up on his own. He starts walking toward the back of the building, passing by the glowing hologram on the roof with them. His frame is bathed in color as he turns to usher Orion on.
“Alright, let’s go.”
“Wait.”
Orion walks quickly up to him (as quickly as he can without stumbling over himself), one servo stretched out. D stops walking, turning back to him, greeted by one of his signature smiles. His face is still tinted blue with energon, the high-grade still running its course. Sincerely, he whispers to D, though it’s only the two of them there on the roof, with no one else nearby.
“Thank you for coming out here. I’m sorry I keep asking, but I’m glad you always come with me.”
Every time he did, D would wish he’d ask someone else, or go back to sleep, or not involve D. Then he’d feel stupid, because it was Orion Pax he was dealing with, and there was no way he could tell himself to refuse anything Orion offered or said or wanted to do.
He was that willing, that devoted. He’d call himself a fool, however, he wouldn’t have wanted to be this close with any other bot besides Orion. The high-grade only seemed to bring those thoughts out more; they popped up in his processor, and he had no desire to dismiss them. They made the warmth in his spark grow.
“What are best friends for?” he rhetorically asks, a light grin of its own appearing on his face, as honest as he could ever be.
Orion’s tired optics widen, flitting over his face for the briefest of clicks. He loses his smile, but gains it back.
The next second, he’s hugging D, flinging his arms around his friend’s shoulders and squeezing so hard the wind is knocked out of D’s intake. He can’t help but laugh, warm and low, and return the gesture. This was definitely the high-grade’s doing. D never really liked hugs, just on occasion; Orion knew better than to initiate them without warning.
It didn’t matter much now, did it, with their thought processes and such muddled by the pleasant blurr of refined energon?
It gets harder for D to focus much on his thoughts, now that the warmth he silently craved from Orion’s touch being so freely given to him. He soaked it all up, shutting his optics and resting his helm on his shoulder. He could indulge for one click more.
And when that fleeting moment has passed, and he and Orion back out of the hug, only to still be partially embracing and grinning at each other stupidly, he can’t help but be disheartened by the fact that they couldn’t stay out longer.
“We should get back,” D blurts rather glumly, to which Orion hums and nods, his gaze wandering.
“Mm-hmm, one more thing…” he trails off in a mutter when his optics lock onto D’s, still intently watching him.
He’s still hanging onto him, D notices when he feels Orion move his servos to hold the back of his helm. His touch is like embers, a soothing kind of warm he only gets to feel around Orion. For a moment, he wants to ask him what this ‘one more thing’ was, knowing it was unwise to delay their trek to the mines any further.
He should have known that it was going to be something unexpected.
D’s entire frame can only go rigidly still as his friend breaks through the space between them. He connects their lips quickly, only a click having gone by after he last spoke. He pushes D into it, whether on accident or on purpose, and the silver bot’s systems internally start to erupt with alerts. The drunken warmth his chassis held started to grow into an almost uncontrollable fire of emotion; his faceplate flushed a much darker blue, and his optics were dilating, back and forth, whirring and trying to process what was happening.
Orion has his own optics shut, even after he pulls away from D, servos falling to grasp D’s arm guards tightly. The silence was almost too much.
“‘M sorry,” Orion hiccuped suddenly, head hanging, “S-Should have asked…”
D is quick to reply. He grabs both of his friend’s servos, clenching them comfortingly, making him raise his gaze.
“No, Pax, it…it’s alright. Really.”
He meant it. It really was alright. More than that. Curse that high-grade; he was being too honest.
But was that a bad thing? He’d decide that later, when he was sober. Future D-16 would work on the details of this night. Present D-16 was going to be in the moment with his friend. A friend that had always made him feel special.
D pulled them together again, pressing his lips to Orion’s this time around. The red and blue bot lets out a surprised sound, and it quickly turns into a low hum reverberating through both of their helms. He had his arms hooked around D’s neck again, leaning into him. D did the same, feeling the warmth of his chassis bleed into his own. His servos were shaking, yet they found their way encircling his waist.
Not once did he question why he was kissing Orion. It felt…right. Much more than he thought it should be. He did question if he was doing everything correctly. Did Orion want it to last this long?
When he felt Orion’s lips start to part, he got his answer.
Then there they were, D’s back against the bent railings of the roof, kissing Pax over and over again without pause, almost as if it was second nature, like he had wooed him this very same way many times before. He could tell he was in love with the whole thing; he could read his friend easily just by body language alone. Orion was practically throwing himself onto D, holding onto him like he was afraid he’d leave if he let go. Every subtle touch of his blue servos on D’s armor was sparking electricity right into the silver bot’s drunken spark. He was purposefully being careful and tender, because he surely was savoring it, too.
“Pax,” D heaves before Orion comes back to kiss him again. He angles his head to the right, so Orion’s next kiss is planted on the corner of his mouth. “P-Pax.”
D puts a hand on his shoulder, a light command. Orion catches on and disconnects their lips, blinking glassily. His intakes are short, optical ridge furrowed.
His voice is low, timid. “Did I mess this all up?”
If he was talking specifically about that night and their plans to just ‘take a walk around Iacon’ or their entire trusting and long-lasting friendship, D forces himself to think of it as the latter. He shakes his head rapidly, cupping Orion’s blue-flushed face in his servos.
“Primus, no,” he practically shouts, unable to keep himself from barking out a disbelieving laugh, “You couldn’t make me stop being your friend even if you tried.”
Upon hearing this, the physical tension leaves his body. He lets out a drawn out sigh.
“Good, good.” He laughs lightly before swearing, “Slag, thank Primus.”
They both look out at the city. Suddenly, time comes back to D.
“We have to go, Pax. We have work soon.”
Orion looks at him and nods slowly.
“Yeah, right. I forgot,” he replies, “Need t’ recharge.”
Both of them knew that if they waited any longer, they wouldn’t get enough rest to make it through their next grueling mining shifts. There was a lot to talk about between them. It had to wait. They were too exhausted, too buzzed, too high off of kissing each other.
It would work itself out later.
So they finally left their secret perch, abandoning their expensive empty high-grade cube by the racing billboard. They stumbled back the way they came, through doorways and passages underground, until they were back in the barracks. The last thing D’s tired optics were locked onto before he went into recharge was Orion’s face, beaming at him from across the room.
Another late night escapade for the records, but one that was too incredible to forget.