I was suffering from the ao3 outage so I'm playing with @reader-from-nowhere 's toy box.
Enjoy some Prime in a Tower
After everything that had happened, all the adventures and victories and losses, after befriending Megatron and witnessing his execution, Rodimus was tired.
Not happy, not sad, just tired
He had left Thunderclash to captain the Lost Light on his own. As much as he loved the ship, he couldn't bear to be on it after losing so much.
Even Drift, the ship's actual owner, had completely lost interest in traveling and had chosen to settle down with Ratchet in a large, comfortable house on the outskirts of the city. As Ratchet had said during their hab warming party, "We deserve the chance to indulge."
If anyone deserved such peace, it was Rodimus's Amica and his conjux. Rodimus didn't want to intrude on their happiness, didn't want to ruin yet another thing, but they had insisted he spend the night opening their hab to him and offering a shoulder to cry on when they realized he had nowhere else to go after the execution.
As miserable as he was, Rodimus made sure they knew he was so very grateful for their support through the evening and the soft berth they lent him after he had spent the night over indulging in strong energex and reminiscing.
Rodimus realized he had been a little too indulgent when he opened his optics the next morning and found the wooziness from the high grade hadnβt faded with the return of the light cycle.
His frame felt too heavy where he leaned against Ratchet, shivering as the medic stroked up and down his arms and played with something near his wrists. Not wanting to be a further burden to his friends, Rodimus made a valiant effort to rally his scattered thoughts and account for all his limbs.
Ratchet seemed reluctant to let go of his arms when he tried to pull away, so Rodimus decided to focus on his legs first. However, no matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to kick free from the tangle of blankets at the end of the berth.
He became so absorbed in trying to free his pedes that he barely even registered when Drift returned with a tray of breakfast. With clumsy servos, Rodimus accepted a warm but strangely bitter cube of midgrade from his Amica, not even registering the delicate chain that dripped from his wrist as he quickly downed it. His normally clever glossa seemed slow this morning as he tried to formulate some sort of excuse to leave that Drift would accept.
Even though the ex-captain didn't have a hab of his own to return to, in fact he only had a handful of credits and the contents of his subspace to his name, Rodimus knew he couldn't stay.
He was a washout who had a bad habit of burning down every good thing that came his way, and no matter how much Drift and Rachet had insisted their hab was "a bit too big for just two bots," the younger mech didn't want to add them to that list.
Rodimus was still struggling to find the words to say when Drift crawled into the berth to join them. The knight's arms were soon wrapped around the prime's waist, and Ratchet switched from stroking his shoulders to tracing the edge of Rodimusβs spoiler causing the red mech to shiver more as Drift nuzzled the plating right above where his spark chamber lay.
His frame seemed to grow even heavier, and as recharge claimed him yet again, he thought he imagined a possessive look in his companions' optics.
Notes: So Rodimus is definitely chained to the bed and won't be leaving it, at least for now. Dratchet probably won't keep him under for long, but it was the easiest way for them to get the cuffs on him in the first place without him fighting back. Don't worry, their actions aren't going to go further than restraints until he sobers up. I have no clue how long they planned this, but they gave him the second dose to buy them time to put the finishing touches on their plans. Once Rodimus wakes back up, they won't do it again unless he genuinely starts to fight them and they're afraid he will hurt himself.
