surprise

"So... this is just it? Cleaning?"

"Mm? You don't like it?"

Optimus paused as he passed a soft towel over Blitzwing's thighs, and then gently over his sore, still-wet valve. Blitzwing sighed, looking away.

"It's not bad, but, ah.. I didn't know aftercare was this.. simple."

"Well, it's not just cleaning." Optimus hummed gently, wiping Blitzwing with a tenderness he hadn't felt in...

...had he ever felt this before?

"..It includes things like, uh.. well, holding your partner, maybe they need some fuel or coolant or something.. if things got rough, you take care of anything like that. Maybe wash off together, you know?" The semitruck smiled gently, and stroked Blitzwing's thigh, before bending to kiss his knee. "Maybe a massage? Would that feel good?"

Blitzwing closed his optics, his trains of thought splitting all the further so they could figure out what they wanted. Flare was feeling snacky, and River was craving some more touch. Chagrin was excited about the prospect of a good wash, intrigued by the novelty of doing so with a trusted, gentle partner. Or, in this case.. a gentle, trusted firetruck? Semitruck? Whatever-truck? A gentletruck...

"I think we should try a massage-" whirrrt h- "after we get some snacks!-" krr-ktch! "But before we get clean?"

Optimus laughed gently, and planted a soft kiss on Blitzwing's face. "Sure thing, mech! Massage, after snacks, before getting clean.." The bot took the moment to sort the events neatly, organize them in order. "Guess we better get that massage started, huh?"

***

"You're not half bad of a cook, you know, mech?"

Blitzwing hummed with appreciation as he took a bite of the fuel Optimus had prepared for him. A bit of solid energon, simply heated until it was warm and melty, spread nicely over long, thin bars of tin and sprinkled with some smaller, finer pieces of bismuth metal. It was good for the frame, with these nicely conductive metals and useful ions for the internals.. and it was good, the bismuth with its sweetness, and the tin's smooth, plain taste.

It was a simple snack. Not much in the way of 'cooking', really. It was no expensive copper-wire spaghetti but it would do.

"Glad to hear." Optimus sat by Blitzwing, holding a glass of something cool and clear.

"Propylene glycol." The semitruck offered it to Blitzwing, who took it thankfully, sipping. The taste was cool and fresh, the coolant well-enjoyed by his frame. And something to wash this down with, too, Blitzwing thought as he took another bite. Optimus was caring... so caring. So sweet.

"Thank you." Flare mumbled, his intake full, swallowing the mouthful of metal. "Really."

"Hey, I don't mind. Anything for you, yeah?" Optimus smiled, and his optics narrowed lightly with fondness and affection, before he leaned by Blitzwing to kiss his cheek. "Just take it easy, okay? I'm gonna take care of you."

Flare nodded, and leaned against Blitzwing, offering him a piece of what he'd made. Before the mech could refuse, he had snapped out a reason for Optimus to have a bite - he had made it, he'd also just come off a frag, and.. well.. "...it feels nice," which was mumbled under Blitzwing's breath. Hardly very Flare-esque of him, but then again, he was tired! He needed to refuel on this nutritious thing..

..And, well, sharing was caring, wasn't it?

I do care about Optimus.. right?

Of... of course he did. He cared about the team. The team cared about him.

And it was nice, really. Lighthearted, maybe pushing away the dark thoughts, and maybe just play fighting and trying to feed Optimus Prime something, making the mech laugh and pretending to get angry. It was fun. It was... it...

...Stars.

It really did feel nice.

***

He had to admit, this part was pretty damn good too.

Optimus was pressing Blitzwing's back struts, really digging into sore protoform and mesh that had been aching for stars knew how long now. Flare and Chagrin never were good with taking care of the frame sometimes, so that was more of River's forté. However, the mech had been so concerned with trying to survive.. with trying to just.. well.. keep this job, survive Halohydrin's brutal training regimes, the mood swings, their collective agony.. and the danger of space bridges..

..Sometimes a massage, or even just resting his back wasn't an option.

"Unh- yes, the wings-" River groaned softly, arching his back as Optimus pressed into a particularly tight knot of cables that sent a shower of pleasure-pain through the connections. "Oh slag, slag..." He let out a blissful noise, wings fluttering as he cried out softly and arched once more when Optimus chuckled and pushed into the spot again. He paid more attention to it, lighter this time, gentler for sure.

"If I didn't know better-" The mech grunted softly, working his servos into Blitzwing's back. "-I'd say this was turning you on."

"Turning on my pleasure circuits- oh frag! Agh-" Blitzwing squirmed under Optimus's servos, all the while the semitruck held and shushed him. "Easy, easy- did it hurt?"

"A bit." River panted heavily, still taking in the fact that his frame was singing with the lovely, delicious ache of a post-frag afterglow, and now.. this too, Optimus's skillful servos on his back, himself under Optimus's reassuring weight. Really, it was the contact that was so good.

And perhaps the fact that, here and there, Optimus would take a break, and lie on Blitzwing, and just rub his shoulders. It was comfortable, and wonderful. On perhaps the third time he had done this, River chose to snuggle into the other mech, and bury his face into Optimus's broad chest with a deep, content sigh.

"Gonna nap already?" Optimus rubbed at River's hip. "We're still pretty sticky, you know. All messy."

"Mmm." River yawned against the taller's neck.

"I thought you wanted a nice bath, yeah? Warm solvent? Being nice and clean?" Optimus chuckled. "Round three in the shower, if you like."

Chagrin immediately fronted, and his optics were shining with interest. "I'll pass on the frag," he kissed Optimus excitedly. "But I've never been in the washracks with another bot before!"

***

"This is exciting.. ooh, it feels so forbidden~" Chagrin laughed giddily as he and Optimus stole away for some privacy in the washracks. Most bots didn't know this, but in the medical labs, just outside of the area.. there were a series of showers that one could get to, a more private washracks. Now, these were generally meant for medical bots, but there was not a single sign that said use of them was restricted to medical personnel.

And, they were nice and clean.

Optimus led Blitzwing down the narrow hall, past labs 34A, 33A, 28B... past the storage for specimens, yech... and then, they struck gold. At the hall's end, a neat sign, displaying:

WASHRACKS 04

"I'm telling you, this is the good stuff they never tell you about."

The mech pulled aside the curtain of the farthest stall at the room's end. It was a bit dim, and so quiet, and so wonderfully clean. The perks of biohazards, he supposed, though neither was complaining. Chagrin never knew that washracks for the Autobots could even be this nice! There was a little slab to sit on, and a detachable showerhead, asides from the one up top. The stall was a nice size. Just enough.. for two bots to sit, one in another's lap.

So, Blitzwing sat.

He crawled into Optimus's lap with a giddy laugh, and kissed the mech, once, twice, shivering suddenly as Optimus turned on the solvent flow. Chagrin yelped when the cold solvent hit his back, wings flaring, but Optimus only petted them gently, and soothed him as the solvent warmed up, a nice mix of strong polar and nonpolar ones that Blitzwing knew would make him feel clean after this.

Chagrin sighed lightly when Optimus snuck a servo down to Blitzwing's aft, and traced along the curve there before settling on the triformer's valve.

The Prime's touch was soft and careful.

He pushed two digits into Blitzwing with an almost obscene, wet noise, and the mech whined softly as the other slowly, tenderly, worked on cleaning him out. One soft movement at a time, he moved to rinse Chagrin's thighs, his aft, then just caress the rest of Blitzwing's frame. The mech slathered some soap on him, here and there, a delicate and floral fragrance. Crystal peaches? Rose? Whatever it was, no doubt it was good. Lucky fraggers, the medics were. Chagrin leaned against Optimus, and let out a contented sigh, resting his helm on Optimus's broad, powerful chest. The mech hummed and just idly stroked the fire-truck's arms, digits finding Optimus's servo, and tangling them together.

"This is nice." The triformer sighed. Almost too nice, Chagrin thought with a pang of sadness and trepidation. Did bots really do this after they fragged? Well, Blitzwing knew there was something they did, but.. never thought that aftercare was something that would, or even could, apply to him.

But perhaps it did. Perhaps they could frag more, Blitzwing thought, wings flicking in anticipation, and he could take care of his partners just like this.

-------------------------------------------------------

After their bath was finished, the bots stole away to Optimus's room, where, after the latter changed his sheets, insisted Blitzwing join him for the remaining part of the night cycle.

"Is this part of your aftercare as well?" River chuckled, gladly snuggling up to Optimus with a yawn.

"Cuddling's a part of it, yeah." Optimus yawned seeing Blitzwing do it, and kissed the top of the mech's helmet with a soft, breathy sort of noise. "It makes your frame feel better, and helps your processor process the events, too."

It feels like love, Blitzwing thought, blurry between all three of them. Perhaps they were agreeing. It felt wonderful, to be held, and kissed like this, to be told that they were loved and cared for. By Optimus, their leader, especially, too.. it was incredible. Wonderful. Would the rest of the team welcome him like this mech had?

Of course they will, Chagrin laughed, the cackle not so cruel as it was giddy and excited. They all care, I bet!

River smiled, hearing the words of encouragement, Chagrin's bitter shell breaking through to show his sweetness beneath. He buried his face into Optimus's shoulder, drowsy, and sighed deeply, before closing his optics at last..

Oh, this was good.

Optimus moaned softly as he kissed Blitzwing, servos wandering up the mech's thighs, resting lightly on his aft. He stroked up the lower back, finally settling on sensitive wings. He smiled when Blitzwing shivered against his frame.

Faceplates whirred and Flare fronted with a soft growl, that muted into a whine.

"You're so impatient." Optimus hummed, pulling away to rub at Blitzwing's cheek. "Is it all right if I feel how ready you are?"

Flare nodded, and rocked his hips a little bit. Optimus grinned, trailing touches down Blitzwing's chassis, along the edges of his cockpit, and down, down, to the soaked valve already well on display.

He must have been so sensitive, squirming the way he did, when Optimus brushed his valve with a careful digit.

Blitzwing swore, grabbing for the truck's shoulders, his voice pitching into a soft cry as River fronted. Taking some pity on the mech, Optimus held Blitzwing's back with one arm, slowly stroking his valve with the other servo.

"Shh, shhh.." He soothed, Blitzwing burying his helm into the other's shoulder. "Mmm. Gonna check a little deeper, yeah?"

Blitzwing nodded.

A single careful digit pushed into Blitzwing's valve, sinking in easily, without resistance, like a hot spoon into butter. The mech gasped, thighs going tense as he tried to relax. And even then, Optimus could feel the shift of internal components, calipers tightening, tensors squeezing down.

"You gotta relax, Blitz..." Optimus mused, kissing Blitzwing's chin. "Close your optics. Try and take it easy, okay?"

Blitzwing nodded. Right. Take it easy. How hard could it possibly be...

"Agh! Frag!" The mech hissed, feeling a light stinging stretch when a second digit entered him. He whimpered, feeling Optimus rub at his back while he slowly worked his servo into the mech.

"Is this supposed to sting...?" River mumbled, though the sensation was starting to fade already. The digits in him weren't moving much, and Optimus was clearly wanting him to just adjust to the feeling of something inside. It wasn't as though Blitzwing was new to this- far from it- but the thought was sweet, his tenderness even sweeter.

"At first, that's about it," Optimus soothed. He pulled his digits out, and slipped them back in. Was it slicker already? Blitzwing clenched down again with a low gasp. Every light graze to his nodes felt too, too good. "Shouldn't hurt at all, after."

The triformer nodded numbly, Chagrin switching with a whirr of faceplates. His optics lidded part-way, flickering dully with pleasure. He hummed in approval, rolling his hips against Optimus's servo.

"You like this?" Optimus grinned cheekily through his ministrations. Blitzwing only offered another nod. "Yeah? Want a little more?"

"Your spike," Flare fronted, and growled, panting.

Optimus sighed. "Well, if you ask like that..." He pulled out of Blitzwing, and the mech squirmed impatiently. His valve was pulsing against itself, aching, he felt fuller and almost bigger. A valve ready to engulf whatever it was offered, slick with lubricant.

Looking down, the triformer blinked at the spike gripped in one of Optimus's blue servos. He was intimately familiar with that very same length, seeing as it had been crammed firmly down his throat only moments earlier.

"Hey. You ready?"

All River could manage was a flustered please, a pleading look.

His hips were moved a little forward, so Blitzwing's frame was against Optimus's. He was sat fairly high up on the mech's lap, and felt himself being lowered carefully, towards the very thing he needed.

The initial slip was easy, his valve welcoming it, but Blitzwing soon hissed as he met resistance, stilling himself, grasping Optimus's shoulder. "Wait-" He groaned, stopping the other. "Wait.."

"Still tight?"

"I'm sorry-" River ducked his helm, but Optimus just chuckled fondly and kissed his chin.

"Don't be." He flashed Blitzwing a sweet, eager smile. "Just means I can take my time with you, yeah?" That got the triformer to squirm, and huff, just leaving the spike inside until he felt himself get a bit more impatient. He lifted his hips up, and sank back down, more this time.

"Hah- you're good at this, nf- you really, really know your frame, huh?" Optimus squeezed Blitzwing's aft. "How'd you get so, hah, experienced?"

Chagrin shifted in with a whirr, and laughed. "Toys!" He winked at Optimus. "And not the educational kind!"

The semitruck laughed, hips twitching a little as Blitzwing pushed himself down, and lifted up, just lightly, slowly, bouncing on his spike. Optimus just lay his helm back against the wall, and stroked a servo up and down his thigh. "Ngh- mm, that's the stuff.."

They didn't talk much, moving into an eager rhythm that was punctuated by moans, soft gasps, the occasional laugh and piece of praise. Blitzwing wrapped his arms around Optimus, thrusting, huffing as he felt a warm heat build in his valve, moving with an urgency.

Optimus seemed to know, too, grasping Blitzwing's hips, moving a little more firmly. His hips lifted to meet the triformer's, metal clanging on metal, a light scrape whenever they ground against one another, chasing their own high, trying to push their partner into it first.

The electric heat finally burst between them, impulses firing all at once, and Optimus arched with a pleasured groan as he pushed up into Blitzwing. The valve, not so tight, opened easily, and Blitzwing pushed down into Optimus in turn. He overloaded next, shaking, messy, lubricant gushing from his valve and mixing in with the transfluid that was leaking out of him.

Blitzwing dropped his helm to kiss Optimus, and the semitruck lifted his intake to the other's, with a "mm" of surprise. They kissed, slowing their movements, languidly riding out their pleasure, 'till just about any more remaining charge was bled from their systems.

"Mmh- you all right? Blitz?"

"Quite," River breathed. "And you?"

"Just fine." Optimus moaned softly. "Mm- off? I'm still- ooh, sensitive-"

Nodding, Blitzwing used Optimus's shoulders for leverage as he lifted himself up and off, and then seated himself back in the mech's lap. No longer as hard, the depressurizing spike was soon retracted, and Blitzwing pulled comfortably into Optimus's lap. The triformer snuggled closer.

"Nnh... we're gonna have to wash these.." Optimus groaned, and tapped the sheets.

"And ourselves." River pointed out, motioning to their frames. There were stains of drying transfluid, tacky and visible, along both their bellies and thighs, some smeared here and there. Paint transfers, too, those would have to be scrubbed out thoroughly.

"Yeah? Well-" Optimus petted Blitzwing's helm. "Maybe after a bit."

"Would you.." Blitzwing bit his lipplate, a pang of anxiety flaring in his spark. "..Want me to leave?"

"Huh? No- hey, you can stay." Optimus smiled softly, and kissed Blitzwing's cheek. "C'mon. You like aftercare?"

Aftercare? What was that again?

It's all soft and sappy...

Well, I think I like soft...