Fatty Blog

Who knew the ex-leader of the Decepticons could enthrall so many listeners with the power of his voice? Wait, that was given considering his past political speeches... but now, these were just stories to entertain the booth of listening mechs. And his stories were complex, well thought out, and always delivered a fistful of imagination.

Rung couldn’t stop grinning as he entered the dimly lit bar and headed towards the back booth-which was littered with a wide selection of snacks and drinks. Sitting at the head of the booth was Megatron, who mindlessly scrolled through a datapad.

“Am I the first to arrive?” Rung smiled as he set his contributed dish amongst the others. Energon crispy treats- who didn’t enjoy the mix of gooey marshmallow with crunchy feldspar?

“Unfortunately, I think you will be the only one to arrive,” Megatron said, peering up from his datapad. “A lot of cancellations happened.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Rung frowned. “But look at this spread- did you bring all of this?”

The gray mech shook his helm. “Perceptor and Brainstorm dropped off their share as well as others, when they gave their regrets to have to cancel last minute.”  A faint smile appeared on Megatron's face. “Looks like it’s just us. If you still wish to continue, that is.”

“Oh, I am still game.” Rung answered rather quickly. “Provided you are. Don’t get me wrong, it is more fun with a gaggle of mechs joining in, but I have been waiting all day for tonight’s story!”

“Well, let’s hope this doesn’t disappoint.”

“Your stories are amazing! They could never disappoint!” Rung pulled over a bowl of lithium chips, grabbed a handful, and popped them into his mouth.

The night continued with Megatron’s voice booming out actions and plots, and Rung choosing not just what paths the hero takes, but what he is going to snack on next. The chips were polished off quickly, then followed by the warm, buttery popcorn.

Rung’s focus was on the story, not how much he was eating. In fact, he was known to get carried away with the mindless munchies when his attention was glued to every word Megatron spoke. Every description was painted inside his processor. Every battle scene left him on the edge of his seat. Every twist in the plot left him slack-jawed!

Every bowl was soon left empty. While both mechs sipped sparkling energon, and yes, Megatron tried one of his energon crispy treats, it was Rung who had devoured the most food. During the final climax of the story, his belly joined in the forms of grumbles and groans. His abdomen bulged out, pushing painfully against his plating. Only when his servos clasped the moaning beast did he realize how much he overindulged.

Again.

Yes, he was known to overdo it during these meetings of creative adventures. Not every time, mind you, but enough that fun jokes were sometimes given about whether there was enough food. No one minded at all, but still, his overindulgence always surprised him.

Megatron even noticed after the loud warble, his optics peering up from his datapad and a hint of a smile forming on his lips. Rung’s cheeks reddened but didn’t pause the activities. The story continued. The snacking continued. The fun continued.

But tonight, the stuffing was much worse. Sure, he felt the pressure from overfilled tanks before, but this time, it felt different. Rung felt as if his abdomen was clenched in a vice. He felt as if his plating expanded to the point of cracking. He felt as if he was going to explode at any second!

Rung slouched back, the pressure in his belly growing. He really overdone it tonight! A deep breath was sucked in.

*Pop*

“Oh my!” Rung’s servos clasped over his belly. He popped some rivets, which flew across the table, nearly hitting Megatron in the forehead.  His abdominal plating popped free, skidding loudly under the table. His exposed mesh felt so taut. Stretched to the limits. Each gurgle threatened to pop that overinflated bubble that now rested on his thighs.

“Everything alright?” Megatron politely asked despite a slight smirk.

“Ahh...” Rung sheepishly smiled. There was no hiding his overindulgence. “Kinda overdid it on the snacks.”

“Again?” The co-captain’s tone was soft and kind, with no signs of judgment. “Nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, yeah?

“Heh heh.” His servos playfully drummed on his gut. Rung recalled saying those same words to Megatron during prior talks. “I feel like I am gonna burst!”

“Do you wish to stop?” A digit went for the power button on the tablet. “Go back to your room and lie down?”

“Oh my stars, no!” Rung nearly barked. “We are almost done, and I just need to know what happens! Please continue, Megatron. The story is truly amazing- one of your best!”

And the story continued while Rung nursed his aching belly. But there was a dish of candies he had not tried. The items were white, roundish in shape, and caught his fancy. Surely a few wouldn’t hurt, right? He reached out, fingers dancing over the little candies before a handful was taken. One was popped into his mouth as the final action scene of the last battle panned out.

His denta crunched through the hard outer shell, revealing a very chewy inside. The taste was pleasantly minty. Perfect as an after-dinner snack- or in his case, after gorging on snacks. One by one, the cool mint orbs were devoured, leaving the therapist parched.

And what better to quench his thirst than some ice-cold fizzy ener-pop? Rung poured himself a glass and sipped the sweet, cyberberry-tasting liquid. The taste was so tantalizing he couldn’t resist chugging the rest of the cup. His stomach filled with bubbles... which led to even more bloating. Usually after a few gurgles the tanks would calm down.

But not this time.

This time, those bubbles kept churning. The pressure kept building. Rung is passed feeling as if he’s going to pop- his entire midsection swells at an alarming weight. Fresh stress marks appear on his mesh, raking vertically over that rounded paunch. But the swell doesn’t end there: his thighs follow suit, first squishing out seams then popping open. His arms do the same- his entire body inflates as if he were a balloon!

His belly slams against the table, skidding it across the floor with a loud screech. Megatron’s optics widen, no longer focusing on his datapad but staring at that swollen mech. His expression is one of concern. Rugn wears a look of fear as his body resembles more of a blimp than a ‘Bot.

But his tanks churn loudly. A tickling sensation forms, racing up his tanks and pressing against his intake. Just as Megatron is about to comm Ratchet, a loud, embarrassing noise erupts from his mouth.

“Bwwwrrrrraaaaaaauuuhggghhhpppttt!”

As undignifying as belching like a pig is, his stomach deflates a smidge.

“Rung...” Megatron calls out.

“Ahhh.... excuse me...” Rung’s cheeks redden as another loud burp barks out, echoing in the thankfully empty bar.

“Better out than in,” The gray mech chuckles. “Feel any better? Do I need to call a medical emergency?”

“No... no, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Rung stifled another burp. “I feel better after I burp... So, what exactly are those candies?”

Megatron shrugged. “They were here when I arrived. I figured someone dropped them off...but....” He shook his helm. “It doesn’t matter.” He stood and pulled the table out of the way, then sat next to Rung. “How about I help you burp that belly as we finish this adventure?”

“That’s not what I mean, Red...”

“I... I thought you said you wanted to take me to an event tonight after my shift?” His optics widened as he looked around. They weren’t at the breakroom for Sunstreaker's party, but instead stood in front of the firetruck’s habsuit. Clearly, his friend had changed plans. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for fifteen more minutes to check the security cameras at the end of his shift. “I... I am sorry—”

“Red.” Inferno's lips softened into a hint of a smile as a servo cradled the timid Autobot’s hand. “I still have a special event planned for you. But I need to confess something to you first.”

Oh Primus, here it was! What was it this time? Can only be friends in secret when it convenienced him? His constant paranoia was probably too burdensome to bring to friendly gaming nights crowded around a table, tossing  cards or rolling those bones. He knew all good things always came to an end- especially to him!

“Buddy, I like you...” Inferno’s gaze lowered as his cheeks flushed. “Like, as a friend yes, but also more than a friend.... ya know?”

What riddlesome words! Just what did this firetruck mean? More than a friend-Red’s jaw dropped. Was this what he thought he meant? Despite being observant during security watches, reading mech’s intentions proved a continuous challenge. He wasn’t good at working with assumptions. “More... more than a friend?”

“Yes...” Dark fingers gently brushed against light ones. “Do I need to spell it out for ya? I want to snuggle up to you under a warm, cozy blanket on cold evenings. Vegged out on the couch watching holovids of cheesy shows. Become close to you, fully enjoy your company... as our friendship turns into more of a...ah... partnership.”

“You wish to court me?” This time, the paranoid bot had no issues blurting out the obvious. Sometimes you had to get straight to the point.

“Yes, Red.” Inferno chuckled. “That is what is meant by more than just friends.”

“I....” This was a good thing, right? Inferno was a trusted friend, and he really enjoyed spending time with him. He was kind. Understanding. And most of all, patient. He couldn’t think of one good reason not to take their friendship to the next level. Except for the million things that could go wrong!

“Just give me a chance, yeah?” The firetruck smiled. “Let me give you a sample of what things can be like.”

Always the gentlemech, Inferno stood there calmly, waiting for his answer. What could go wrong? Besides everything? True, he wasn’t very experienced in the dating game- slag, next to no one had shown him any interest in the longest time. And even when there was interest, it fizzled out quicker than a candle tossed in water. He didn’t know what to do.

What if he wasn’t experienced enough? Worse yet: what if he wasn’t good enough? Despite the safety of being by yourself, Red was tired of being on the sidelines. He was sick of being alone. “Alright....”

The feeling of happy butterflies swam through his frame. Wow, someone nice actually liked him! Wanted to spend time with him! Wanted to snuggle- and the icy grasp of fear clenched at his frame. Did he know how to snuggle? Primus... he was still factory sealed! Would Inferno mind? Would-

“Great!” The red and black mech beamed, snapping Red from his spiraling thoughts as he palmed open his habsuit door. “After you!”

Red meekly crossed the threshold and was completely floored at the vision before him. A dozen flickering candles provided the ambient light in the room. Inferno’s quarters were rearranged so that a round table draped in a white cloth sat in the center. The centerpiece was a trio of tapers decorated in a wreath of flowers. A matching pair of plates sat on each end, accompanied by wide-mouth wine glasses, utensils, and cloth napkins folded in a decorative shape.

“Wow,” Red whispered. “Did you do all this?”

“And more! I cooked your favorite food for dinner.”

“Oh, Inferno, you didn’t have to!”

“I know, but I wanted to.” He held his hand out. “Go on, have a seat. Let me serve you some supper!”

The Chief security officer obeyed and strolled over to the table. But when he glanced back, he couldn’t help catching his now partner’s optics quickly raise. ‘Dear Primus!’ Red thought as he quickly made his way to his seat and parked his butt down. Was Inferno checking out his aft?

Things had calmed down on the Ark. Enough that a lot of the Autobots relaxed quite a bit. And while Red still manned the security monitors daily, he did let his own guard down. But it came in the form of constant snacking. And with the increased energon intake came some weight gain. Not a lot, but enough to make his sides pudgy, his thighs thicker, and his belly softer.

But that was only because most of his weight gain went straight to his aft.

While nothing was ever said to his face, he swore he heard hushed whispers and stifled laughs as he walked through a crowded room. Slag, he felt his aft jiggle with each step; how could anyone not notice? Clearly, Inferno did. Was he having second thoughts? Regrets? Thinking of ways to terminate this new partnership? Surely his bubble-butt wasn’t a prized possession.

“So, I wasn’t sure which specific brand you’d prefer...” Inferno rambled as he took a bottle from the cooling unit. “But my options were kinda limited.” The sound of a cork popping was heard. “Hope you like the lightly oaked Chardonnay.” The light green liquid glugged from the bottle as each of their glasses was filled halfway.

Red nodded his helm. His processor was flooded with concerning thoughts of displeasing his friend. Mainly, the unattractiveness of his enlarged ass.

“Well, give it a taste, buddy!” Inferno lifted his own glass, pausing until his date brought their chalice to his lips and tasted. “Not bad, yeah?”

“Hmm mmmmm.” The red and white mech’s glass immediately returned to the table, his fingers fidgeting around the stem.

“Is everything alright?”

“Hmmm?” Red’s attention snapped up, and he was greeted with soft but concerned blue optics. “Ah, yeah, yeah. Everything is fine.” What was it everyone always told him? Don’t make mountains out of ant hills? Maybe Inferno wasn’t looking at his aft... “I do like the mix between the fruity and toasty notes of that brand!”

“I think it will go great with what I cooked for you.” The red and black mech returned to the counter only to cart over a covered platter. “Here we are.”

The cloche was lifted, revealing a large plate of large skinless cyberchicken breasts that oozed juices and was speckled with seasonings. After placing one on each plate, a serving of asparagus joined the party, followed by spoonfuls of cubed ener-potatoes. Both plates were full... but his was loaded to the brim!

“Lemon Herb roasted cyberchicken. Your favorite sides as well.” Inferno sat down, placed his napkin on his lap, and grabbed his utensils. “Go on. Eat up.”

But as much questioning Red wanted to ask of his lingering thoughts, one thing remained certain by the sudden grumbling of his belly: he was famished! Come to think of it, it had been a bit since he last ate. Yes, he snacked, but even the quick sweet treats ran out too early in his shift. His belly clenched and groaned, and that buttery roasted meat was just tantalizing his senses!

It didn’t take the starved Autobot much thinking to grab his fork and knife and dig in. The first cut sliced easily, releasing a cloud of steam. The first bite released a gush of zesty, citrusy flavor. The first swallow warmed his pipes and sat comforting in his tummy. Everything just screamed out more... and who was Red to deny? He eagerly stabbed the meat for seconds. And as soon as he swallowed, he went back for thirds.

“That good, huh?” Inferno smiled, still holding his first morsel on his fork.

Egads... was he eating too fast? He licked the juices from his lips, coughed, then took a cloth napkin to dab himself clean. He wasn’t alone in the security center anymore; he had company. A date, nonetheless. Just where were his manners? “It... it’s quite tasty.” This time, he selected a potato... and cut it into smaller pieces.

“That’s great.” The firetruck tasted his first serving and hummed. “Oh yeah.... this came out great. You know, I practiced this recipe a few times. Guess it paid off.”

“You did what?” Red asked, then sipped his wine. Now, his taste receptors fluttered in excitement. “Wow, this chardonnay... really highlights the lemon flavor of the food.” He took another sip, allowing the liquid to roll over his palate. “And the oaky taste balances out the savory taste of the chicken.”

“Suppose I did good on that too, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Red grinned, matching the smile of his dinner guest. “You really put a lot of thought into this.”

“Yeah.” Inferno shrugged. “Nearly drove myself nuts. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“Well, I can assure you, it is.”

“Nothing but the best for you.”

Was Inferno always this sweet? Those caring glances and hinted smiles thrown his way were quite endearing. Red felt his cheeks flush, but shoved some asparagus in his mouth to excuse himself from answering.

But he knew the answer was yes. Inferno always was amazingly kind to him. Who was always there for him during his paranoid meltdowns? Who sat next to him when he collapsed to the floor, shaking in unnamable dread? Who was the first to rescue him during his fiasco involving Starscream and the Negavator?

Inferno. That’s who. And waking up in the medbay with his bestie sitting by his side was the most calming and reassuring gesture one could receive. Even better was how his buddy helped him cope with the overwhelming guilt of his actions. While that feeling never completely vanished, hearing Inferno talk him through it was extremely grounding.

While the pair remained silent, the meal was thoroughly enjoyed. Each bite was packed with flavor, and once his plate was cleared, his belly was packed with food. He wasn’t stuffed, mind you, but those warbled gurgles of hunger turned into groans of satisfied delight. Red sighed, sat back, and mindlessly rubbed a servo over his rounded gut.

“Did ya have enough?” Inferno asked, optics glancing at the hand rubbing the belly.

And that tingly feeling of paranoia returned, scurrying up his frame and lowering his mood. The question was asked in a kind tone, but Red kept repeating it for signs of ill will.  Why ask that question? And why stare at his enlarged tummy?

“Hey Red... you alright?”

Red’s only answer was reddening cheeks.

“Hey...” Inferno scooted his chair over. “Did I say something wrong?” A servo reached out, gently resting on his tire. “Come on, speak to me...”

“Are...” Red swallowed, mustering up the courage to speak. Of all the mechs, the one seated next to him was trustworthy. However, his doubting nature didn’t discriminate. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Are you mocking me because of my weight gain?”

There. He said it. And with upturned optics, he finally looked back to his lover.

“What?” Inferno looked as if an electrical charge jolted him. “What would make you think that?”

Red Alert just shrugged.

“Because I cooked your favorite meal?

Red Alert sheepishly lowered his gaze. “You.... you really loaded my plate up...”

“You didn’t have to eat it all-“

“And you were staring at my belly.” The red and white Autobot’s arms now wrapped around said belly, keeping it hidden from the other’s view.

“Really?” Inferno snorted but stifled his chuckles. “Well, I know touching would most likely be out of the question, so I settled for looking.”

Red’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you think I am bothered by your weight?”

“I caught you staring at my aft earlier as well.”

“Red...” Inferno’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “Red... that doesn’t matter to me. Your weight doesn’t matter to me at all. It’s you I like.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Inferno stood, beckoning the other to follow. “Look, I liked you for a bit, but I feared going too fast.” He placed his servos on Red’s shoulders. “I always thought you to be a looker.... and even with the weight gain, I feel the same way.”

“You... you aren’t pulling my pede, are you?” Red asked, that burning desire to ask making him scorch inside.

“You know what I like best?”

“What?”

“Seeing how happy you are when you are sneaking snacks in the security room.” Inferno chuckled. “At least until you fear you were caught.”

“Ah....”  A nervous chuckle erupted. “You... you saw that?”

“Who do you think keeps those drawers filled with your favorites, huh?” He gently pulled the anxious bot closer until his slim belly bumped the other’s rounded one, then gently wrapped his arms around in a hug. “But seeing that hint of a smile grace your lips.... the way your optics half-mooned... the way you hummed in enjoyment... just brought me so much joy.”

“So, you like watching me pig out?” Red playfully rolled his optics before noticing how close Inferno’s face was to his. Of course, he got nervous again. Was what he was thinking about to happen? Does he have to make a first move? Primus, he was so wet behind the audials he didn’t even know how to kiss another mech properly!

“I like watching you indulge yourself in what makes you happy.” Inferno licked his lips. “I hope... I hope I can make you happy.”

And after a quick smile, that helm dipped in and Inferno’s lips gently brushed against the other’s. It was soft and gentle, and so quick that Red didn’t have a chance to kiss back. Not that he would have, being lost in his thoughts!

“Are you okay with this?” Inferno asked, his warm breath tickling against lips. “With me kissing you?”

Was he? His spark swirled within his chassis. His circuitry fizzled in excitement. All those worried thoughts immediately vacated his processor... and all Red wanted was to feel more of this! But all he could do was nod his helm. Being shy sucked!

Or was it inexperience?

But those lips returned. This time, the touch was longer, gently caressing before sucking the lower lip in. His tongue gently flicked, teasingly promising much more fun to come. And even with Red Alert’s sloppier attempts at smooching, Inferno did not pull away, just gently deepened the kiss. Inferno’s tongue danced across before pressing in deeper.

And naughty servos moved southward, boldly exploring his flabby aft. Fingertips tickled across the plush surface before flattening over the doughy mounds. Fingers clenched, and flab spilled from between those digits.

Red jumped and pulled away.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Inferno meekly responded, giving a sly grin before resting his helm on his lover’s forehead. “I just couldn’t resist. You tease me so.”

“How so?” Red playfully slapped a red shoulder.

“Oh, the way you strut your stuff around.”

“I don’t strut.” He heard the other chuckle as the arms wrapped around him released. The contact was instantly missed! That loving embrace made him feel cozy. Made him feel safe. Made him feel loved. All those feelings of doubting if he fit in and belonged vanished, and he instantly felt wanted.

“How about some dessert?” The firetruck said, snagging a box on the counter. Opening the box revealed a large slice of yellow cake slathered with thick, chocolate icing. Rainbow geodes provided a colorful spread over its top, adding to the temptation to indulge.

“Ahhh....” Red lowered his gaze and bit his lip as his belly strained a gurgle. He was already bloated by polishing off his rather large servings of supper. Hell, his plating was already bulging at the seams. “I think I kinda had enough for tonight...”

“Really?” The chubby mech’s decision didn’t change. “Okay. Maybe later then?”

“Maybe....”

Inferno held his servo out, motioning towards the chair. “Well, shall we move on to the next form of entertainment?”

“Don’t tell me, watching me eat was your first form of entertainment?” The chief security officer half-joked but half seriously asked.

“AH-AH!” Inferno chided as he walked to the chair and set the cake down on the end table. “The first form of entertainment was sharing a meal with you. Now, it’s time for a movie. One I know you’ll like.” Inferno sat down and clicked the remote, turning the holovid on. Once the screen flicked bright and a few buttons were pressed, the movie’s opening credits ran across the screen.

“Is that....” Red's optics opened wide as he stepped closer. There was no way it was what he thought it was- and Inferno was willing to watch it. Yes, he had a penchant for those sappy romance movies...the kind where the viewer secretly placed themselves into the movie and went to bed dreaming of a knight in shining armor sweeping them off their pedes. While he may be a helpless romantic, it was an itch he usually scratched in the comfort of his own habsuit. Alone. “I Spark Only for You?”

“Yup!” A smile appeared on Inferno’s face. “Here, have a seat.”

“You don’t-“ Red stopped mid-sentence. The chair, while on the larger side and looking extremely plush and comfortable, only sat one. “Um... Inferno...?”

The red and black mech patted his thighs. “Park that wide load right on my lap.”

Red’s cheeks flushed at that prospect! “But... But.... I may squash you...”

“Sounds good to me, yeah?” That smile faded as the other hesitated. “It’s alright, Red.... I don’t mind. Unless you do, I mean, it’ll be nice to snuggle up as we watch the movie, yeah? But if you’d rather-“

For once in his life, Red Alert threw caution to the wind.

“Sounds good to me.” Red walked over and carefully sat himself down, more so to not change his mind. He wanted to be held by his friend- well, now lover. He needed to feel the warmth of frames pressed together. He desired the safe touch of admiration and care. And as he leaned back and felt those arms wrap around him again- plus the gentle kisses placed to the back of his helm and then on the side of his neck- Red knew this was the best seat in the house.

But those servos once again crept over his enlarged belly, and the insecurities rose. Just how much exploring would those digits perform? Would they stop with just rubbing his belly? What exactly was expected of him? Red flinched, and those servos instantly lifted.

“Ah... I....” The chief security officer stammered. “I ...like it but...um...”

Inferno shifted, reaching above him to pull down a blanket. “Here. Cover yourself with this.” The fuzzy blanket was spread out, and Red tucked it over his legs and belly. “I won’t go under the blanket, deal?”

“Huh?”

“Whatever is not covered by this blanket, I won’t touch,” Inferno explained as he gently placed a servo on top of the swelled belly. “Doesn’t feel as invasive with the blanket on top, right?”

Red looked down, watching the hand slowly circle. The touch felt.... nice. Comforting. Soothing. And with the blanket in between, the contact felt ‘safe’. “Yeah... yeah....that actually does feel nice.” Red relaxed as those servos gently roamed over his frame, never exploring too deeply, but caressing just enough to prove Inferno was not joking about enjoying his frame. Or enjoying spending time with him.

Engines gently revved and vibrated against his back as cooling fans whisked warmed air. Gentle kisses occasionally graced the side of his helm. Soft sighs expelled as Inferno coaxed the red and white mech to deflate against his chest.

Or at least tried to. His belly complained...and his processor focused on the dessert he passed on. Golly, that icing looked so sweet and gooey... not to mention how perfect that treat would top off that dinner. And to simply enjoy while watching the movie... His mouth watered at the mere thought of devouring that slice!

Red Alert gently coughed as a servo gently captured a roaming hand on his growling belly. “Hey, Inferno?”

“Yes, my sweets?”

“I... I was wondering.”

“Yeah?”

"How was the match?" O.rion wiped the energon splattered across M.egatronus' back while the latter cleaned his blade. The silver plating glistened under the single overhead lamp in the living quarters, streaks of white light warping across his armor.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" M.egatronus raised his arm to peer at O.rion, a row of razor sharp teeth displayed in a grin. O.rion rolled his optics and raised a pointed ridge. The gladiator chuckled and resumed wiping down his blade. "An easy victory. S.hockwave only had to repair a few dents."

"A few dents?" O.rion repeated, not taking his attention off his work. "Ah, so is that what you call getting buried into the wall?" M.egatronus' imprint in the concrete was at least a few servos deep and had left him dazed and staggering.

The silver mech threw his helm back and laughed. "Perhaps more exciting than I expected. Yet I still prevailed, isn't that right, old friend?"

O.rion hummed and pressed his lip plates in a thin line. "You ought to be more careful," he warned. The steel wool doused in cleaner scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain beneath the back of M.egatronus' shoulder pauldron where his chassis connected to his torso. "That kind of recklessness will get you killed."

"Such is the life of a gladiator, is it not?" M.egatronus scratched off a patch of dried energon off the flat surface of his weapon. He examined the flakes under an amused optic before flicking them off his digits. "You worry too much, O.rion. I've come this far, and I have too much to lose than to make any foolish mistakes. You needn't concern yourself with my survival."

O.rion scoffed and shook his helm. "Perhaps you don't worry enough," he mumbled. The cleaned armor glistened, and once he was satisfied, he moved on to the huge splatter across M.egatronus' abdominal plating. "Am I not allowed to be concerned for my friend—?" O.rion nearly dropped the steal wool at the rather violent growls churning under his palm. He felt M.egatronus stiffen, and he didn't have to look up to see the embarrassed expression sporting a bright blue flush. Once the noise tapered off, O.rion shot the gladiator a disappointed look. "You did refuel before the match, right?"

M.egatronus chuckled nervously. "Would you believe me if I said yes?" His tank disagreed with a loud groan.

O.rion did the same and hung his helm. "I figured as much. Stand still." He continued wiping down the armor, though a new awkwardness permeated the atmosphere as the gentle touches elicited more and more rumbles from M.egatronus' tank. A heavy sigh shifted the plating beneath him.

"So, when can I expect the full lecture from you?" the silver mech pried. The deadpan, almost mocking tone in his voice made O.rion's finial twitch.

The archivist paused for a moment, digits hovering over the final patch of dried energon. Humming thoughtfully, he picked off the rest of the smear. "I believe I have a more persuasive method in mind." He didn't elaborate any further, and he could feel his friend squirming at the vagueness.

"Should I be afraid?" M.egatronus teased as O.rion pushed himself to his pedes. He retracted his blade into his gauntlet and arched his back struts.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," O.rion answered before tugging on his friend's servo. M.egatronus obliged and trailed after him, an amused expression gracing his faceplate.

He was taken to his own private room. O.rion sat him down on the berth, allowing M.egatronus to lean back on his palms. "Wait here, and don't even think about getting up," the red and blue mech ordered. It wasn't like O.rion could do much even if he tried against a seasoned gladiator, but M.egatronus had no qualms entertaining him.

"As you wish," he chuckled with a tilt of his helm. Once O.rion left, he resided on waiting on the archivist's return. The room was quiet and dull, save for the consistent gurgling in his belly. The Pits weren't kind to its tenants. No clean quarters, fuel was scarce, and the residing gladiators may as well be dirt on the higher castes' pedes.

Magatronus tidied up wherever he could (especially after O.rion started visiting), and when his rewards from winning matches weren't going towards repairing his particularly dangerous injuries, they were enough to acquire a descent meal. On occasion. O.rion was at least kind enough to treat him for dinner after a match, or after long hours of revising speeches and planning their political uprising. Whenever he visited, that is.

Every other time, M.egatronus was left alone in his quarters nursing a growling stomach, not unlike now. Though he couldn't help trailing his thoughts back to what O.rion could have planned for him. The archivist wasn't much for large, grandiose gestures, something M.egatronus appreciated. He saved the grandeur for the revolution.

By the time O.rion returned, M.egatronus was near dozing on the berth. He startled awake when O.rion dropped a heaping stack of energon next to his pedes. The gladiator eyed it curiously. "Where did you get all of this?" he asked.

O.rion clambered up on the berth and perched himself on M.egatronus' lap. "Not important," he replied curtly. He took a cube of energon and held it up to his friend's flushed faceplate. "Now open up."

Despite himself, a sly grin tilted the corners of M.egatronus' faceplate. "My, how forward of you, Pax," he purred. When the red and blue mech's faceplate fell to an unamused deadpan, M.egatronus chuckled under his breath. "I only jest, my friend." Without any further argument, he took the energon in his mouth, right from O.rion's digits. The cube was crushed easily in his jaws and swallowed. O.rion held up the next serving. "Do you plan on doing this for every cube?"

"Well I can't exactly trust you to refuel without my supervision," O.rion shot back, pushing the energon between M.egatronus' teeth. Another quickly replaced it, and another after that. O.rion's servo lightly pawed at the gladiator's abdominal mesh, feeling up the subtle firmness building behind it.

The gesture sent a shudder through M.egatronus' frame. "O.rion," he nearly choked out. "Is that really necessary?" Not that he didn't enjoy it. But of all the mecha he expected to employ such intimate touch, O.rion Pax was near the bottom of that list.

"I must monitor your progress," O.rion stated matter-of-factly, never letting his servo leave the silver mech's belly. "Your tank is practically begging to be treated to a meal."

"No part of me ever begs," M.egatronus retorted with a flashy grin. His intake instantly shut with more gurgles coaxed out of his tank.

"Perhaps you should listen to your body more, my friend," O.rion quipped back, the smallest hint of a smirk tilting the corner of his derma.

M.egatronus merely rolled his optics and silently accepted another cube. He knew O.rion was right. Gladiators weren't known for their exceptional self-care routines. All he had to worry about was surviving the arena, and look good doing it.

So was he going to complain about the fuel gradually rounding out his belly? No. Would he whine about O.rion's servo gently kneading the taught surface and easing the tension? Not at all. Was he going to voice his grievances when the mesh spilled onto his lap and left him panting for breath? Not once. In the back of his processor, it felt good. He had never been so full, and to be doted on by the smaller archivist perched on his lap was the icing on top.

The last cube was stowed away in his mouth, and he took his time to grind it down and swallow. M.egatronus sighed and let himself fall onto his back, engorged stomach displayed proudly for all to see. His tank was stuffed far beyond maximum capacity and grumbled irritably. He couldn't bring himself to care. His helm was so fuzzy and content with his meal.

"I take it you're enjoying yourself?" he heard O.rion tease, but he couldn't see the red and blue mech over the arch of his middle.

M.egatronus could only grunt in reply, far too heavy to give a proper response. Just when he thought the night couldn't get any better, a warm servo pressed on the side of his stomach. M.egatronus' breath hitched, followed by an excited rev of his engine. "P.rimus," he gasped while feeling his faceplate flush. If possible, he sank further into the berth as he let O.rion tend to his overtaxed belly. It gurgled under the archivist's palm and forced an abrupt belch from his chassis.

O.rion chuckled. "That's it. Just relax," he murmured. "You've been working yourself to the bone struts. You need rest."

That's all M.egatronus wanted to do for the rest of the day, his tank so heavy and full. A part of him was unsure if he could move even if he wanted to. He shuttered his optics and reached up to hold O.rion's servo against the bloated mesh. "Do me a favour and tend to my tank, will you? This is your doing, after all," the gladiator teased, but O.rion knew better than to overlook the hidden request.

"Of course, my friend. Consider it my apology for forcing you into this situation," the archivist replied with an equally playful tone.