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It'd started as a casual conversation, a lucky encounter at the shooting range. Drift hadn’t come here other than that first occasion after Rodimus had inaugurated the room, standing by the captain’s side as he clapped joyously while the flashy speedster used a pair of giant scissors to cut the flimsy red ribbon, glad that his friend was taking seriously the need for enrichment of his crewmates.
The shooting range was quite popular as a place to unwind, but Drift hadn’t been comfortable holding even the smallest blaster since his time with the Wreckers (day by day more in tune with his blades and wishing to keep it that way) and so he hadn't really cared to come visit the place again after that first time.
So perhaps his presence had been the surprising thing, and not Perceptor putting up a show with his trusty sniper rifle (apparently teaching one of the rookie security guards how to improve his aim) as a group of mechs behind them stared in awe at the precision of his shots.
He hadn't seen the scientist wielding a weapon for quite a bit, and so the vision struck him as comforting. This was Perceptor, as he knew him.
It was odd to think it felt different this time around when their optics met.
Once Perceptor handed off the rifle to the rookie to practice, he made his way to the third in command to greet him with a curt nod.
Polite, reserved. Just as mechs knew him to be.
They hadn't talked, really talked, in a while. Not even after Drift first saw his designation in the long list of recruits the Lost Light had picked up after that first rally. Truth be told, he'd been a bit giddy seeing his old partner joining their quest.
It was a comfort, knowing they'd be close again.
(Though, that'd been the theory. In practice, Drift had seen him once in a hallway and another in a short debriefing on the bridge, and though they'd exchanged quick glances, the most he'd gotten out of him had been a short salute and a subtle nod.)
He'd been caught off guard when Perceptor had invited him to his habsuite to catch up, but the opportunity was one he didn't want to miss, even if was while in the middle of his shift.
It amazed him that the scientist's suite was no longer the pitiful utilitarian showpiece it'd been back then. In addition to a cushy looking berth, there were now a few shelves filled with datapads, a cozy-looking reading nook, an energon dispenser, and a large worktable in the corner that worked as a mix between a standard desk and a makeshift nightstand.
To Drift's delight, there was a glowing crystal formation growing out of a beaker on his worktable, and he turned to his host to point at it with a smile on his face. "Is that...?"
Perceptor nodded with the faintest smile decorating his face as he closed the sliding doors behind him. "Yes. I've kept studying its properties, and while this pet project has been placed in the backburner for a long time... I've enjoyed watching it grow."
It'd been a gift from Drift, from way back then. The swordsmech recalled that he'd brought him a tiny piece of such a rare surviving fractal after one of his stealth missions. For a long time he thought the sniper had kept it out of politeness, given that Perceptor wasn't the type to believe in the aura cleansing qualities of the old crystal gardens.
But to know he'd kept it as a precious piece of study (and not even confined to his lab either! But here, in his berthroom) made Drift feel a wave of sentimentality wash over him.
That set the tone for their conversation as Perceptor offered him one of the seats in his reading nook, bringing them ice cold energon cubes to enjoy as they reminisced about the past, and filled in the gaps from their present they'd each missed from the other.
"I wasn't expecting you to come along with us." Inevitably they reached that topic. "I didn't think you'd be the type to be swayed by the purpose of our quest." And it was because, even now, Drift thought he still knew him well: someone of little faith, seeking concrete proof in order to believe in it first. Cynical to a point. A mech of science through and through.
His host brought the cube to his lips and took a small sip, savoring the energon before placing it down and tilting his helm at him.
"Indeed. But... Even if I'm concerned about the probabilities of our quest being successful," There it was, the classic Perceptor move of turning to crunch the numbers when belief in the possibility of it all was asked out of him. "The reason I joined was because of your speech."
"My...?" Drift wanted to interject that he didn't know what he meant– But Perceptor was giving him a knowing look that shut him up.
"Those were your words calling out to me. Do you remember the mission in Desna?"
"How could I forget?" The swordsmech laughed awkwardly as he recalled the only part of that mission he was able to remember: the sunset shining over them as they limped out of the neutralized Decepticon base; falling over on the rough, reddish sand as they clung to one another for balance; and finally Perceptor's incredibly uncharacteristic laugh escaping out of him as energon dripped from his mouth.
'What was the point of all that? They all ended up dead!' The sniper had asked as they both stared at the darkening sky above them, disbelief mixed with frustration in his tone. 'Did any of that matter? Cycles and cycles of planning and...!' His laugh had been bitter, and it'd stopped only once Drift had taken his servo in his, interlacing their digits together.
'One day it'll all be worth it, once this is over.' He'd promised, unable to do anything else but offer those words as they slowly bled out in the desert.
Perceptor had been quiet for a moment then, regaining the usual coldness in his demeanor, and had looked into his optics with a deep sadness in his gaze. 'I don't think that day will ever come.'
Even now the memory filled him with melancholia, thinking of their battered frames in the sand after barely even surviving such a massacre.
But the hold of Perceptor's servo in his... He'd never been able to forget how that'd been the only thing keeping him anchored to the world.
Pulling him back from the old memories, Perceptor continued by quoting his words back at him. "The day you never thought would come? That's today. You've earned the right to see the universe without a gun in your hand."
Perceptor observed him with the faintest ghost of a grin in his features, that keen observant optic expecting his admittance. "I'm here because of you. I believe, perhaps not completely in this quest, but..."
The sniper leaned his frame forward a bit, the movement subtle, but Drift found himself unable to not notice the shift in his field alongside his closeness. There was a warmth there, something familiar he'd been looking forward to for a while now.
"Even now, I believe in you."
The words were spoken by the Percy he'd once known: timid and sweet, a side of him reserved only for Drift, never revealed to anyone else but him. Their fields weaved together as they hadn't done in so long, and Drift felt a weight leave his chest once he realized how right it felt to be as close like this again.
"I missed you." He finally confessed offering his servo to Percy, and the other took it just to hold him gently in his.
Drift couldn't believe he'd been so afraid of talking to Perceptor again and finding a severed connection. Now, in his room, as the other led him to the berth so they could wrap their arms around one another and once more find comfort together as they used to do– He realized this felt all so familiar, and so right.
So when Percy closed the distance between them and planted an innocent kiss on his lips, Drift did not push him away, but rather brought them closer together, meeting his lips again and again tenderly like he used to do on the long lonely nights as they licked each other's wounds when they had nobody else.
"Missed you too," Was whispered in between sighs and the whirring of their fans as they picked up speed. "It's been too long."
It was true, but Drift let old memories guide him as he caressed seams alongside Perceptor's frame, relieved to find certain weld jobs that'd never been polished remained there, his map of the sniper's chassis still enlightening as he enjoyed the sound of his former lover sigh into his intake. He thumbed at the edge of his crystal window, delicately tracing a long line on it, and Percy keened at his touches.
He was still such a lovely mechanism, Drift thought as a chuckle left him while he kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, his jawline– And the other mech clung to him, letting out silent vents in an attempt to downplay how quickly he was getting worked up.
Strong servos pulled his helm back to the heat of Percy's needy kisses, the sniper's glossa licking hesitantly at his mouth before deepening their kiss. His engine revved, and continued purring happily as he got lost in the back and forth of their lips.
A question broke through their kisses. "Why– Why didn't you seek me out sooner?" Percy asked with a half lidded gaze, and Drift could detect a touch of sadness in his tone, even as his expression remained one of a helpless lover.
There'd been many reasons, not the least of them a certain shame that bloomed in him after leaving Perceptor and the rest of the Wreckers behind so abruptly once he'd seen greatness in Rodimus' destiny. Like a trained turbofox he'd followed, a bit too captivated with the young Prime's conviction and light in his aura–
A higher calling had taken him from his partner, yes. That was the true reason he'd distanced himself once the war had come to an end. It'd been that, and not the ugly realization that his spark had never felt lighter than in the presence of the fiery red speedster and his easy-going grin.
That smile shone brighter than the sun, so how could he not dedicate himself to seeing his vision come to life, for a world in which Rodimus' brought forth a new golden age right by his side?
He avoided Perceptor's gaze then, and buried his face in the crook of his neck. "Does it really matter?" He muttered as he clung to him, burrowing himself closer to his warm frame.
The other mech let him be, but there was a quiet resignation as he wrapped his legs around him and hugged him tight, as if afraid he'd pull away right at that moment.
"...Not really. Not anymore." Finally came Perceptor's small voice, Drift wondering if he'd been meant to hear. Before he could dwell on that, the scarlet mech turned his helm to mutter into his audial.
"Please, make me feel good." That'd been a request that Percy had asked of him several times in the past. If he couldn't make it better... If he couldn't make him forget the bloodshed, the violence, the shame, the loneliness– Then he could at least make him forget the world for a few hours at least.
It was the most vulnerable part of Percy which always asked for the closeness, the warmth of his spark pulsing against his, for his frame to be loved and held as if it was something precious (and he was, Percy had always been precious to him).
Drift had never hesitated in moments like this, eager to soothe him, but for the first time he moved slowly. His moments reverent as he mouthed his neck cables, peppering kisses down his frame until he leaned back to straddle Perceptor, sorrow in his gaze as he looked down at the mech that he'd loved for vorns now.
"...Are you sure?" He'd expected Percy to resent him, to hold grudges for him, yet here he was asking for his spark once more. Part of him wondered if he even still deserved the other mech's adoration.
The response he got was a soft sigh as Perceptor looked up at him with utter fondness in his optic, the one he'd always held for the swordsmech, and the locks for his crystal window clicked open, the plating shifting to reveal the spark chamber underneath. Dazzling blue light illuminated the dimly lit room, and a vent got caught in his chest as he gazed at Percy's core be offered to him once more.
The sight had always made him a bit teary eyed, knowing how closed off from the world Perceptor chose to be, knowing perfectly well how being this vulnerable terrified the scarlet mech. And yet, he'd chosen him (of all mechs) to entrust with his spark.
Silently, Drift triggered his own mechanisms to open his chest plating, and soon the blue light shared between them doubled as the swordsmech offered his life essence back at him, and slowly lowered himself so that their sparks could meet in the middle, a kiss of their fields as they entangled together.
Perceptor gasped as he clung to Drift, their beings merging as they hadn't done in so long, all while warmth washed all over their frames, lighting their sensorlines and erasing the borders between them.
Drift got lost in that space, floating in and out of his frame, but seeking to stay in Percy's arms all the same. A feeling traveled all through him, deep seated longing, and he was unable to stop the tears trailing down his face.
'I missed you.' Echoed Percy's wordless confession, and his spark's aurora burned bright as it sought to escape from its chamber, and melt into the other. When had been the last time he'd felt so loved, so adored? When had been the last time he'd allowed himself to linger and feel his yearning for the other?
And here he was again, in his arms, mind overlaying into his. Perceptor who saw him as a bright light in his life, and that'd spent feeling lost in the dark ever since his departure. Drift who'd considered him as something beautiful and deadly, moonlight to light his way, his devoted companion through the last cruel years of the war.
'Have you ever known how much I love you?' Someone asked as memories of timid kisses, fingers interlaced, and warm embraces ran through both of them. He remembered, oh how he remembered. It was his love which had kept him sane through those last battles.
Panting, his frame instinctually rutted against Percy's. The charge of electricity from their merge surged through both of them, and made a symphony of ragged vents and overworked engines out of them.
Archives of past memories from their passionate nights together made a feedback loop between them, their sensory net being caught in a constant overstimulation. The touches, the faint smell of burnt oil, systems freezing as they tried to keep their moans quiet, the messy kisses shared in closed spaces– The ghost of each experience took hold of them, and Drift felt a tide of melancholy seep into their bond.
'I never wanted to lose this.' It's a confession that flowed between them. 'But I can't, I can't–'
He was unable to place the exact moment they went back to kissing, making out as electricity sparked through their frames, their merge intensifying every sensation as they moaned into each other's mouths.
'Just stay.' His lover pleaded through the bond, and he wanted to promise he would. He really wished he could.
But the image of meteor showers and the lick of flames against his plating kept him from doing it even as he desperately held onto Percy, knowing he was choosing to burn in the atmosphere like a shooting star rather than stay and watch the gleaming night sky from below by Perceptor's side, just like all those other nights spent together where he'd chosen the comfort of his warmth over and over again.
He had to make this worth it, he had to make all the hardship worth it, then maybe... He would be able to give Percy a world in which he could be truly happy again.
Perceptor held onto him as the charge finally proved too much for their systems, and his overload ricocheted through them both, bringing Drift to completion as well. His optics whited out as ecstasy erased all of his previous worries, for a moment any and all thoughts gone as the only thing that mattered was Percy, beautiful Percy, pushing all of his desire onto him, as if wishing to invade every circuit of his.
He was left weakened, shivering on top of Perceptor, nonsensical static spouting from his vocalizer instead of the affectionate words he wanted to say. He could feel echoes of the other feeling just as exhausted as him, and he did him the mercy of pushing himself away, to toss himself by his side on the berth, glancing up to the ceiling as their ventilation systems struggled to cool down their frames.
There was faint smoke coming from their bodies, and Drift patted the space between them blindly until he found Percy's servo to hold on to, once more his anchor to the world as he closed his chestplates.
It took a moment, but Perceptor covered his spark as well as sighed and he interlaced his digits with his, in a gesture so familiar and loving it threatened to break his spark knowing he would be losing it soon.
"...Will you ever be mine again?" Perceptor spoke with careful words, heavy vents in between. Though he'd always struggled to be as open with his emotions as Drift was, in these moments shared just between the two of them, he tried to be forward as much as he could. Perhaps even more so right now, since he'd seen what was in his spark.
So he must have known already the answer to that.
Drift wouldn't dare admit the truth out loud, so instead he brought Percy's servo to his lips and planted a tender kiss on it.
It wasn't a real answer, but Perceptor said nothing more as he turned to simply hold him.
"Stay." As Percy clung to him, Drift felt the way his aura shifted to a heavy haze of fear, a desperation seeping in behind his calm facade.
He couldn't stay, not this time.
But at least for a few moments Drift could pretend they were back to the days of old where it was just them against the world, the only gentle embrace they'd ever get. And so the swordsmech leaned into the hug and dimmed his optics, hoping to drag them both to a weightless recharge before he had to go back to being the third in command of the Lost Light, the mech holding Percy's fragile hopes close to his spark as they made their way through the vastness of space.