Work Text:
Whenever one or the other of them almost died, they interfaced.
Well, Magnus called it 'interfacing'. Rodimus called it 'fragging each other's brain modules out'.
Magnus winced. Rodimus had looked disturbingly like a brain module when they'd found him...
But Magnus had to admit Rodimus' description of their copulations might be the more accurate of the two.
They never got back to their room at the same time, not on nights like that. Whenever Magnus arrived first, he always wound up pacing the floor, hands clenched tightly behind his back as he waited for Rodimus to return. Whenever Rodimus managed to make it back before him, he would meet Magnus at the door, alerted by his heavier footsteps in the hall, and desperately pull him through into their rooms. Or Magnus would enter and find Rodimus already lounging on their berth, splayed out in one of his many "sexy welcoming poses" with a grin determinedly plastered on his face.
Then it was all roving hands and hot breaths and heated plating, wringing overload after overload from each other, as many as they could, until Rodimus finally slid off of Magnus and collapsed next to him in a gasping, panting heap while Magnus' processor buzzed with nothing more than the thought of being alive.
Magnus had sent Rodimus back to their rooms already. Chromedome had, er, "undone" him and Velocity had cleared him for duty, instructing him to return every two hours for residual pain management treatment, but to Magnus' optics Rodimus still looked plainly exhausted. It had felt uncomfortably like giving his superior officer an order, but Magnus had very carefully couched it in terms that left it just shy of a direct command, and Rodimus hadn't taken much persuading.
Hound was already off-duty, resting up so he could take command later. Magnus and Megatron worked side-by-side for a time, Magnus reading, acknowledging, and responding to the written reports coming in from all sections of the ship while Megatron manned the comm, fielding more urgent inquires and dispensing orders as needed. Froid and Sunder hadn't been on board long, but they'd done quite a number on the ship.
Eventually, Megatron indicated he was retiring as well, to recharge now so he could provide Hound with backup later if necessary. Magnus acknowledged with little more than an exhausted nod and kept working. When Hound finally arrived on the bridge, Magnus wearily handed over command and trudged back to the quarters he and Rodimus shared.
But Rodimus wasn't waiting at the door when he got there, nor was he spread out all over their berth. Instead he sat on its edge with his head buried in his hands.
The door slid closed behind Magnus. "Rodimus?"
Rodimus jerked his head up. "Oh, hey! I - I didn't hear you come in."
Magnus frowned. "Are you alright?"
Rodimus forced a smile into place. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be fine?" He dragged himself all the way up onto the berth, his attempt at nonchalant lounging somewhat ruined by the way he winced as he gingerly lowered himself back against the pillows. "So, are you gonna get over here or what?"
Magnus crossed the room, brow still furrowed, and allowed Rodimus to tug him down next to him, though there was no strength at all in the gesture. Magnus carefully settled himself beside the speedster - if there had been any strength in it, Magnus thought, Rodimus would have pulled him right down on top of him.
In these sessions, Rodimus usually straddled Magnus and, er, rode his spike - given their relative sizes and respective proclivities it was the simplest method of achieving a satisfactory conclusion for both parties involved. But tonight, Rodimus struggled to even climb atop him. When at last he made it up, he bowed his head and leaned heavily on Magnus, sucking down air in great, gasping gulps. His fingertips had clawed against Magnus' chest, peeling curls of blue paint away from the metal beneath them.
"Rodimus," Magnus asked again. "Are you alright?"
Rodimus lifted his head. The grin was definitely a grimace now. "What? C'mon, Mags, I told you I'm fine. Now do you wanna do this or not?"
Without waiting for Magnus to answer, Rodimus dipped his head to Magnus' neck.
Magnus lay there, frozen with indecision. On the one hand, something was clearly afflicting Rodimus - given the events of the day, Magnus felt reasonably certain in assuming it was probably residual aches and stiffness left over from Rodimus'...experience, and they would undoubtedly be unpleasant. On the other hand, Rodimus was a grown mech, perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and if he wanted to push through the aftermath without either of them acknowledging it, then Magnus should allow him to do so.
A sound from Rodimus pulled Magnus from his thoughts. Rodimus still had his face pressed into the crook of Magnus' neck, but he wasn't kissing along its cabling as he usually did. He was shaking, too, although Magnus' fingers had barely grazed his sides, let alone strayed to his spoiler. And the sound had been a groan, not a moan, and a distinctly un-libidinous one at that.
That decided it.
"Enough, Rodimus. Tell me what's wrong."
Magnus sat up, shifting both of them so that he cradled the speedster in his arms. Rodimus pulled back from Magnus' neck to stare up at him, optics wide. Then his face crumpled, and he buried his helm against Magnus' chest.
"It hurts, Magnus," he whimpered.
"What hurts?" Magnus asked as gently as possible.
"Everything."
"You should have returned to the medbay - " Magnus checked his internal chronometer. " - twice now for follow-up treatments. Have neither of them been effective?"
"I didn't go."
Magnus spluttered. Forget soreness - according to Rung's report, Froid had described the, er, inversion process as "the most painful thing a Cybertronian could ever experience."
"Why not?!" he demanded.
"You and Megatron made fun of me," Rodimus whispered.
Magnus opened his mouth to respond - and then closed it again.
Rodimus wasn't wrong.
Admittedly, Megatron had come up with the initial joke. Magnus had only refined it. He'd been rather proud of it, actually. A pause - the verbal equivalent of a semi-colon. A witticism, lovingly crafted, that still allowed him to display his mastery of the nuances of language, both written and verbal, all while assisting in his ongoing efforts to integrate himself further with the crew.
"I had noticed that the crew often uses humor to...I was attempting to emulate that behavior - "
Magnus cut himself off. He'd hurt Rodimus. Nothing else mattered.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Magnus whispered back, bowing his head. His lips brushed the top of Rodimus' helm. "I'm sorry."
Rodimus was still in his arms for a moment, then nodded, a tiny movement that scraped his helm flares against Magnus' chest, peeling off a few more pieces of paint.
Magnus stood determinedly, and Rodimus yelped, flailing a bit at the unexpected movement. "However, I will be taking you to the medbay now."
Rodimus' mouth worked, likely the speedster attempting to decide which objection to raise. Finally he settled on one. "..dun wan' anyone to see you carrying me."
Magnus sighed. He could certainly understand not wanting to show any sign of weakness to the rest of the crew. But Rodimus had to get to the medbay, one way or another, and he certainly couldn't walk. Magnus tried to console him.
"It is late in the recharge cycle. It is unlikely there will be anyone else in the hallways."
Rodimus pouted.
"Besides," Magnus continued. "If anyone sees us, you can simply tell them that I - " He coughed. " - that I interfaced you into stasis."
Rodimus brightened a bit. "Really?"
Magnus nodded somberly, although he felt one corner of his mouth curve upwards. "Really."
"...okay."
Magnus' assessment had been correct, however. The corridors were empty as he carried his captain to the medbay. As he came to a stop outside the doors, Rodimus pushed weakly against his chest.
"Put me down. 'mma walk in."
Magnus hesitated for a moment, but Rodimus would only have to take a few steps on his own, and Magnus would be right behind him to catch him if he fell. Still, he kept one hand on Rodimus' shoulder to steady him as he set the speedster on his feet and reached over his other for the control panel.
Velocity looked up as they entered. Magnus was surprised to see her back in the medbay. Her last report had indicated she'd finished the, um, un-balling surgeries and was handing the medbay over to Hoist while she went to get some rest. That couldn't have been more than four hours ago, but here she was, looking as bright and cheerful as any medic on the Lost Light ever had.
"Oh! There you are!" Velocity exclaimed, hurrying over to them. "I was worried about you, sir."
"'m fine, 'm fine," Rodimus mumbled, even as Magnus felt his captain lean heavily against him. "'s not so bad."
Velocity was already scanning him. "Hoist said you missed both your appointments. I was beginning to wonder if you were okay. Thunderclash has come in three times already!"
Rodimus straightened up a bit at that, chest puffing out, and Magnus fought down the urge to roll his optics.
Velocity led them over to one of the mediberths. "I wish you would have come in earlier. This treatment is much more effective if administered on schedule…"
Magnus frowned down at her. "You do know you can order him to report to the medbay, yes? You are the chief medical officer on board this ship - in matters of crew health and wellness, you outrank even the captain."
The junior doctor looked up. "Really? First Aid didn't mention that. He must not have gotten around to it before he left..."
Rodimus had slumped against the mediberth as soon as they'd reached it. Velocity pulled an applicator from subspace and pressed it to the crook of his arm. It hissed, and Rodimus' face went slack with relief.
"Ahhhhhhhhh…"
"How does that feel?"
"Better," Rodimus admitted. "But…"
"Still hurts?" Velocity guessed.
Rodimus nodded, and Velocity sighed. "I was afraid of that. The medicine is meant to treat the aftereffects of mistransformations, but I don't think it was ever designed for something quite this sphere - I mean, severe!"
Rodimus grimaced, and Velocity hurried on. "I've given you the maximum allowed dose - according to the guidelines, at least. If Ratchet or First Aid still were here, I'd ask them about giving you a bit more, but…"
It was Rodimus' turn to sigh, but he nodded again. "I understand." He turned towards Magnus, who held out a silent hand to offer him support.
"You can come back in two hours," Velocity said, a little dejectedly. "Or - "
Here she brightened and glanced at Magnus, apparently gathering her courage. "Or since you're already here, captain, and it's proven very difficult to get you down here, I would like you to make use of the medbay's oil baths. As CMO of the Lost Light, that is my - "
She hesitated.
" - strong recommendation."
Rodimus turned back around. "Wait - we have those?"
Magnus sighed. "Yes, captain. You signed the forms yourself. Ratchet noted that the oil reservoir had been contaminated with - " He raised his fingers. " - '''bits of all those damn Legislators' and requested leave to construct facilities adjacent to the medbay. "
Rodimus gave him a shaky grin. "Cool. So why haven't we - "
"Because they are medical devices, captain."
Rodimus didn't stop grinning, but he turned back to Velocity. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds...really good, actually."
"Excellent!" Velocity gestured to a door at the back of the medbay. "Right through there. Full body soak, stay as long as you want. If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
Rodimus looked up at Magnus. "Coming?"
Regretfully, Magnus shook his head. "This is a medical treatment, captain, not a leisure activity."
"Oh." The smile slipped from his face.
Aware of Velocity's gaze on them, Magnus nevertheless leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Rodimus' cheek. "But I will be waiting for you when you get out."
"You know," Velocity said, and for days afterwards, Magnus replayed her words in his head, searching for any hint of guile and finding none. "I might also recommend a regular oil bath to patients who don't normally exercise their full range of motion due to injury, modification, or - " She gave him a quick once-over. " - full body armor."
Rodimus looked up at Magnus with pleading optics, big and round and full of hope.
Magnus sighed and gave in. "If...if that is your recommendation, doctor."
Rodimus beamed.
The room beyond was warm and dimly lit, throwing the walls into shadow. Three oil baths were set into the middle of its floor, each one a different size. One was small and shallow, meant for the minibots on the crew - Rewind, Tailgate, Swerve - and, Minimus Ambus supposed with a sigh, himself as well. One was what Magnus would call a "standard" bath, meant for mechs about the size of his captain. And one was large and deep, meant for the likes of Fortress Maximus or the Magnus armor. In each of them, a ledge to sit on ringed the perimeter, while the center allowed a mech to almost submerge themselves while standing.
Rodimus was struggling to climb down into the the middle bath.
"Here."
In the armor, it was easy - not for its strength but for its height. Magnus simply stepped up behind Rodimus, picked him up, and lowered him carefully into the warm oil.
"Mmmmmmm."
"How does it feel? Is it alright? Is it too warm? Is it it hurting you at all?"
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."
Satisfied with that response for now, at least, Magnus retreated from the edge of the bath to strip off his armor.
Rodimus had already sunk up to his chin in the oil by the time he returned, optics shuttered as bliss radiated from his frame like heat. Minimus gingerly eased himself into the other end of the bath. In his irreducible form, he was much too small to sit without completely submerging himself. He eventually settled on an awkward crouch that at least kept his head above the oil.
"How is it?" he asked Rodimus.
"'s good." Rodimus slurred. He cracked one optic open. "But it'd be even better if you were over here with me."
"Rodimus, I already told you - "
"I don't wanna frag or anything, Mags. I just wanna cuddle." Rodimus grinned slyly across the oil at him. "And you wanna cuddle, too."
Minimus stiffened. "What makes you think that?"
"Because if you didn't, you would have gotten into the other bath."
Minimus inched awkwardly around to him, and Rodimus gathered him up in his arms.
Chest to chest, panel to panel, spark to spark, Minimus lay pressed fully against Rodimus, but just as Rodimus had said, there was no arousal there - just a deep, abiding sense of contentment and peace. It was…nice. It was...good.
It was just right.