Work Text:
Friday had arrived, that day of the week you eagerly awaited all week long! No invasive calls from colleagues or tiresome assignments, as tomorrow it would be Saturday, followed by Sunday, two days without a worry in the world. As you sank into your usual spot, a nest of pillows atop a makeshift pile of wooden crates, minutes and hours slipped away unnoticed.
Was it late morning?
Early afternoon?
Who knows, you were too engrossed in your sketchbook to notice.
Squinting your eyes, the rays of the sun were starting to bother you. One glance at the clock and you had your answer.
It was late afternoon. Craning your neck towards the window, the city skyline filled your view. With fewer cars on the street below as the sun began to set, the last rays of sunlight illuminated the Autobot's base and your seat. There was a comforting silence in the air, one that didn’t disturb your work, a drawing you just finished, adding some red there... some blue over there...
The quiet hum of the warehouse and its surroundings were not random moments you enjoyed, instead, you quite cherished them. With some adjustments, the Autobots had begun to recognise your need for personal space. They observed the way you would always clutch your sketchbook tightly to your chest whenever someone approached, or worse, appeared out of nowhere, even though they were giant, metallic masses. Hence, more than once, you would involuntarily screech upon turning around to find a pair of optics curiously watching you draw.
While some Bots like Bumblebee and Mirage tended to be a little too inquisitive for your taste, others, like Arcee and Optimus, were remarkably respectful of your personal space. To your surprise, the latest bot you’ve started to enjoy sketching on every page of your sketchbook was none other than the leader himself.
Exactly like now.
Truth to be told, you have come to admire the Optimus since the first day you came to know him and the rest of the Autobots, dedicated to helping protect the Earth, your home.
Mindlessly, you turned the page.
How long have you been drawing?
There was only one blank page left in your sketchbook, which hasn't been this full since you started sketching and drawing that particular red and blue leader. Every single detail had you hooked, and every sketch was a bit of progress onward. To the Autobots, you appeared to be a strange and skittish human whenever your sketchbook was mentioned or even pointed at.
You started to ponder… “Should I buy another sketchbook right now? Wait until tomorrow?-“ However, your train of thought was cut off by the distant sounds of cars approaching the warehouse. “They are retreating”, you thought, as the first to show itself was none other than Bumblebee. Soon after, Mirage made his entrance, and as always, Optimus would be the last to return, ensuring that no stranger was around the warehouse.
In an instant, Bumblebee came jogging towards you, his pedes shaking the warehouse shelves, while a bunch of leaves were strangely falling from his closed servos. He stopped abruptly right in front of you, mere inches from your face, beeping enthusiastically. Smiling, you tilted your head, curiously pointing at what he was hiding between his cupped servos, like a kid holding a little bird between his hands.
“Did you find something interesting, Bee?” You hoped he hadn’t torn apart an entire tree. Without wasting a second, he emitted an excited beep and opened his servos. It was a canvas. Or worse, it was someone else’s canvas, one that wasn’t blank, it was already painted. “Bee-what…?” Shocked by what you were seeing, you blinked twice.
“Bee! That’s someone’s canvas-“ You scolded the Bot lightly as he got embarrassed, his antennas dropping. He wanted to be painted too!
“Ohh, can I, be painted too?” Mirage chimed in, snitching, “He did tear it from a balcony on the way here, maybe, I don’t knoww” Bumblebee’s antennas perked up as he beeped aggressively towards the blue Bot for being a snitch. As you tried to calm the banter between those two, your sketchbook fell from your lap, untouched, on the floor.
“Well, it is true! If you can’t find a blank white square, how are they supposed to draw me?” Mirage retorted again with a playful smirk, followed by Bumblebee fussing again, flapping his digits together, imitating the opening and closing of a duck’s beak. Their playful banter went on and on through the warehouse, distracting you to the point of forgetting that Optimus had just entered through a back entrance after his external patrol. The day had been tiresome for everyone, especially for Optimus, after all, he is the one who had carried the entire team back to safety, here.
Optimus was lost in thought, a common occurrence for him lately. Although, yes, he was tired, he felt a strong urge to defend this planet, Earth. While it was vastly different from his home, Cybertron, the longer he stayed on Earth, the more he grew curious about it. He saw its many shapes, its beauty, its flaws. Every day, he learned something new, and one of the most intriguing topics that captivated him was the arts. He had since sought the opinions of other Autobots but often found himself drawn more to humans’ insights.
Of course, that included you. This fascination with art became a frequent topic of conversation between you and him, something you would talk for hours from its ancient expressions to contemporary and newer pieces as he listened intently, eager to learn and to deepen his appreciation for Earth, its inhabitants and you.
As Optimus tried to comprehend the complexities of earthlings and you, so did you, striving to understand both him and the other Autobots. Sure, the first time you saw these alien sentient vehicles, as they loomed tall and heavily shook the pavement, had left you terrified for a couple of days, however the initial shock soon transformed into fascination. You began to bond with them over your shared differences as you tried to understand each other. That also encouraged you to fill your sketchbook every day with drawings and thoughts. Among them, Optimus captured your attention and heart the most. You would get to know the autoboot leader better, his insight, his speeches resonated within you, motivating you to keep going despite any struggle you faced. Each drawing tried to capture Optimus’s character, like his determination and passion. You guarded your works from prying eyes, NO ONE. Just the thought of anyone discovering it would melt you into a puddle of embarrassment.
While Optimus moved through the room, his pedes unintentionally bumped into something, causing a wave of concern to wash over him. What if he had hit a human? Or an animal? He couldn’t forgive himself if his carelessness had harmed something, earthlings were smaller and more fragile. Slightly lowering his head, he realised it wasn’t a human, but an object lying on the ground. Optimus leaned down to investigate the item, finding it open. A book? It didn’t have paragraphs of words written on it, instead, there were drawings. It was familiar, as if he had seen it before. Suddenly, he remembered it vividly, it was that sketchbook you always carried with you.
Optimus hadn’t intended to pry into something so personal, but he had to return it to its owner. He was mindful of his strength, trying his best to handle it delicately, aware of the extremely thin paper. Eventually, he gently picked it up, making sure not to tear its pages. As he did, he managed to see some of the drawings you dedicated to him. He couldn’t help but marvel at your talent. Each sketch captured every detail with such precision, from the smaller details on his helm to his vivid optics.
Was this how you saw him? How precious.
Optimus seemed to recall a moment from a few days ago when Bumblebee was practically pressing a drawing you made of him against his own faceplate. The joy in Bumblebee’s beeps and expressions was unmistakable. Optimus couldn’t deny how heartwarming it was to witness such a nice and sweet gesture, something that words sometimes could not convey. It was clear that through art, yours, you could capture genuine feelings.
Still, the previous banter between Bumblebee and Mirage echoed through the warehouse, the noise growing as the Prime went to intervene. The same careful way he had picked it up moments earlier, he closed the sketchbook in his servos and strode towards the commotion. There they were.
“Welcome back Optimus-“
“Bumblebee. And Mirage.”
The two bots, including you, suddenly froze in place. Bumblebee let out a quiet beep as Mirage theatrically lifted his arms.
“What is the meaning of this ruckus?” Optimus approached them, sternly observing them. Under pressure, Mirage was the first to quickly excuse himself “I see, someone’s calling me, uhm- see ya soon Prime-“ he stammered before speeding away. Meanwhile, Bumblebee attempted to hide behind your figure and the nearby shelves, only to knock them down. Before you could fully comprehend, Bumblebee grabbed you, ensuring you didn’t tumble to the floor. Beeping apologetically, he sheepishly shuffled your hair back into place. Copying Mirage he scurried off, maybe he had to glue back that stolen canvas to its right place.
Once the two bots vanished, a calm silence engulfed the warehouse as you returned to greet Optimus again, only for your eyes to land exactly on that closed black sketchbook you had been holding just minutes ago. When did it fell? Oh no! Embarrassment washed over you, freezing in silence. It was closed…right? So, there’s no way he saw what was inside…right?
Optimus was the first to break the ice, bending down on one knee, with a gentle tone, he apologised, “Forgive me, little one, I didn’t mean to pry into your belongings “Handling your now closed sketchbook, he continued “However, if I may, your dedication is admirable.”
Soon, the tips of your ears and your cheeks turned red as a beet, leaving you frozen in place. Nevertheless, Optimus carried on his discourse, “ During the years I’ve spent here on your home, Earth, I’ve come to admire many human creations, their arts, such beautifulness” The Autobot leader didn’t move closer, but he slowly patted your head with his servo, being careful as not to crush you.
“Your skills, I’m sure, will make you a great artist as the ones I came to admire. I am honoured to see myself reflected in your works”.
He lifted himself up, carefully avoiding the warehouse lights. You snapped out of your gaze as he transformed into his alt-mode, inviting you in.
“ Though, you must also reserve hours to rest, it’s getting late, and it would be best if you returned home safe, little one. Do tell me more about your drawings”