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"I know you're more enthusiastic about using samples from alive subjects...however, understanding the procedures regarding handling—"
Overlord rolled his eyes, visibly bored, pretending to read the datapad he held in his hands. Chromedome didn't even bother to reprimand him, he simply sighed listlessly as he turned his attention back to today's sample.The triple-shifter wasn't the most diligent student during his sessions, of course, there were times when he behaved well, paying attention to the demonstrations and following instructions, then there were those times when he swore the mech was trying to pull a screw out on purpose, Trepan would have a heart attack if he were in his place.
Examining the organ in front of him,with only a few hours old and of dubious origin, (luckily, the cracks in the A hemisphere are superficial enough to rule it out), he meticulously prepares the brain module, trying to ignore the other mech's curious crimson gaze.
"It looks functional, so we can proceed, although...I suggest you don't extract it through the ear canal next time."
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"Damn it,"—he grunts, the cracks in the module are now pronounced enough for the mnemosurgeon to decide to interfere, positioning himself behind him.
"As always, you're applying too much pressure to the inputs, you need to relax your servos,"—he explains methodically, slowly stroking from the wrists to the sharpest tips, inserting his own servos between Overlord's, gently massaging the accumulated tension, continuing his strokes until he hears a subtle, almost imperceptible click. The Phase Sixer hums in response, having better access to the processor, the memories becoming more vivid, like the pages of a book—"Good, good"—Chromedome keeps kneading his hands, as if stopping would cause the organ to completely destabilize, and it seems the taller mecha thinks the same, humming softly while experimentally flexing his needles.
"The connection between the processor isn't about pressure...you just need a good angle, it gets faster with practice."
The triple shifter remains silent for an impressive 4 minutes, concentrating on the sensory experience, during those minutes, the only thing the mnemosurgeon can hear is the drone of Overlord's engines, his fingers are rough, steely from constant use in battle; even without the surgical needles, their tips could cut through your armor. He remembers one of many mornings when they were showering in the Phase-Sixer's washrooms, his blue hands tracing the lower part of his back, pausing at each transformation seam to caress them with unexpected gentleness, claiming his neck with his pointed teeth as his servos descended along the inside of his thighs and...
"That should be enough, we'll end the session for now"—the former forensic scientist dictates, trying to banish those images from his mind and pretend he hadn't just imagined them in the first place, he doesn't let go of the other man's hands, earning him a confused look as the man removes his pins from the organ.
"We're done with the session, but we haven't finished cleaning those needles, do you think I haven't noticed you're not maintaining them?" he points out, pulling a disinfectant rag from his subspace and climbing on top of the other man as if it were a chair before they can protest. Overlord reluctantly lets them manipulate his servos while Chromedome cleans his "mini-drills" (as the mech had dubbed them), Starting with the sharp points, he traces the rhomboid outline with the cloth, servo by servo, the phase-sixer's gaze, as penetrating as ever, sends shivers down his spine.
"You know...Trepan didn't allow me to have needles until long after I started studying"—says aloud, not really expecting a response, he's not usually bothered by silences; he'd gotten used to it after having Prowl as a partner, he still believes that a mech that stares into space for hours, regardless of any interruptions, is some kind of clinical problem.
But if there was one thing he'd learned from his time here, it was that a silent Overlord was an Overlord with something on his mind.
"I suppose I'm a fast learner"—he replied pompously, his emp field inflating,the smaller mech merely rolled his eyes behind his visor.
"Despite your...nature...I trust you won't do anything stupid with them."
"You trust me? How sweet,in that case, would you say I'm your best student?"—the triple shifter inquired velvetily.
"You're the only student I've ever had."
"Then it's a yes."—Chromedome didn't even need to turn his visor to feel the other's smile, letting out another sigh.