#chubformers

It was a miracle that you had been let anywhere near Ratchet’s precious assortment of gadgets and tools, but with a lofty background in various sciences and an eager desire to make life in the base a little more exciting (within reason, of course, which you were forced to explain over and over again to gain his trust), there wasn’t much for him to worry about when you finally earned your own spot amongst the mess of technology available to the team.

Different strains and types of energon weren’t nearly as prevalent here on earth as they had been back on Cybertron, but that hardly stopped you from trying your hand at making the most out of what was usually some pretty gross tasting resources brought back to the base. Beggars could never be choosers as the humans would say, and in your position, you and the team really didn’t have any room to complain—it was either gulping down nasty, watery energon or hoping to live to see another day, and with so few lives on the line as you fought to put an end to the Decepticons’ destruction and make your way back home, things were just going to be what they were.

You wouldn’t exactly have called yourself an expert in things drinks and chemicals and energon alike, but with so little to do back at the base and so much free time on your hands, it eventually fell on your shoulders to decide to do something about the awful, bitter fuel sources you were all forced to share in suffering through. It was nothing crazy, really, your ideas for making things a bit more bearable, but it was something, and right about now, something was all you could ask for.

After days of planning and weeks of practicing, you put your hard work into action and started on your very first—and likely your only—attempt at creating something that would add a tasty new flavor to the energon team Prime drank. There wasn’t much need for adjusting the recipe and changing the ingredients after the first back turned out so perfectly, which was surprising. You knew just as well as anyone worth their weight in scrap metal that no scientific experiments ever came out perfect, but still… slaggit, if this wasn’t as perfect as it could get.

The energon was thick, and the ingredients were only a few droplets of the bubbling, steaming mixture you had concocted that were added to the cube. It’s bright blue hue was a darker shade of purple now, but the smell was sweet rather than rancid, and the energon wasn’t as runny as it had been before as a weak, poorly filtered source of fuel.

The first mech you shared your findings with was Optimus, who looked away from the monitor screens with wide optics and raised brows as you held out the cube for him to take.

“I know it looks a little strange,” you said, laughing sheepishly as you gave the cube a little shake, “but this is what I’ve been working on for the past month. This…”

As he watched, intrigued, you peeled back the lid and held it up further to his face, allowing for him to take a sniff.

“…is what I like to call freshly flavored energon. A step up from the garbage aftertaste and gritty, watery texture of the stuff we’ve been drinking before.”

When you had first brought up the idea of creating flavors to infuse energon with, Optimus had been the only one interested and willing enough to give the idea a try. It was new science you were playing with here, and it was uncertain variables you would be walking into, but he took the cube from your servos with a small smile and a nod, his face lighting up with hopeful excitement as he stared into the cube.

“Enticing,” he said, his helm tilted forward as he gave the energon another sniff. “And this is…?”

“My first go at making it, yes,” you said with a nod. Suddenly, the perfect formula didn’t feel so perfect with him staring it down with that unreadable expression of his. “You don’t—you don’t have to try it, but… I just thought, y’know, since you’re the Prime and all, and since you were the only one interested in the first place…”

You wanted to share this with him, and with them. You wanted it to be liked, and you wanted it to be successful. Most of all… you wanted everyone to be happy.

“It smells delicious,” Optimus said, “and it looks just like regular fuel. The color… is that—“

“It’s from the mix-ins,” you quickly explained. “A little off-putting, I know, but when you taste it—if it tastes like it’s supposed to, that is—I think you’ll find that it’s actually really, really good.”

Optimus’ smile had returned, and with it, the familiar fluttering in the pit of your tanks. He gave you another nod of approval before lifting the cube to his face for another sniff, then hummed aloud and closed his optics.

“It smells like home,” he said. “Very good work. I’m pleased to see just how good it tastes, too.”

You watched, servos fidgeting and spark still in its casing as he tilted his helm back and drank it down in one go, his throat bobbing with every mouthful as he audibly chugged. It was gone within seconds, and from the look on his face as he licked his lips and stared down at the empty bottom of the cube with those same wide optics and startled expression, it was a hit.

“Well?” you pressed, leaning in close as you waited for his answer. “What do you think?”

“I—wow,” he said, nodding once, then twice. “It would be wrong to say I wasn’t expecting this to turn out, but… I am pleasantly surprised.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his servo and smiled, turning the cube around in his other servo as he ran his tongue over the inside of his mouth and processed.

“It’s… good,” he said. “It reminds me of the sweet cocktails back on Cybertron, in those cozy bars open only during the night cycle.”

“Really?” you asked, beaming with excitement at the mere thought. “I—I wasn’t sure about the flavoring of this one. I mean, I knew it would be good, but…”

“It’s wonderful,” Optimus said. He paused for a moment, his face twisting with a small frown, and patted his belly with a servo as he set the cube aside. “There is a slight hint of an aftertaste, the more I think about it. A little burning in my tanks, too, but—“

But nothing to worry over, you were sure he was going to say. No cause for alarm, given the circumstances… except that the longer he stood there, his servo held over his belly as he mulled over the strange sensation in his tanks, the louder its rumblings began to become.

It was slow at first. A low, ominous growl that was followed by a lingering whine. Then, as Optimus took a step back and clutched at his belly with both servos, his discomfort turning into a look of confusion and panic, the sounds grew louder.

It was noisy, thunderous and threatening, and from the look on his face, it was nothing that should have occurred from something like this.

“On second thought,” he began, his voice strained and his words forced, “I think… I think that maybe—maybe the mixture might need a few adjustments after all.”

You were at his side in an instant, pulling him forward and dragging him over to the nearest table before pushing him down onto his back and propping his helm up against the top of the slab. His belly was protruding now, the slim plating and even slimmer waistline filling out like a water balloon as it grew bigger and rounder. The sounds inside had yet to stop, either—if anything, they only grew louder and louder yet.

“Oh no,” you stammered, your servos moving over his belly and up his chest before back down to his belly as you frantically searched for a way to stop it all. “Oh no, oh no no no no no…”

You hadn’t planned on this. You hadn’t expected the mixture to clash with the internal workings of your mecha systems in a way that would cause such a catastrophic result. Optimus’ belly was expanding though, taut and swollen and sloshing as it grew, the mixture filling it up from the inside and filling him out as he lay trapped beneath the weight of his own growing middle.

It wasn’t at all what you had planned on or hoped for, but strangely enough, it was… interesting to see, to say the least.

“I’m sorry, Optimus,” you said as you held his servo and clung close to his side. “I’m so, so sorry. The mixture… a compound in the mixture must have reacted with the acids in your tanks. It was an oversight on my part, but—Primus, I’m so sorry!”

Optimus, despite the sticky situation you were both now in, seemed mostly unbothered despite the discomfort on his face as his belly sagged atop him and spilled over his sides. He grunted as he shifted, turning until he could comfortably face you on his side with his big belly falling forward, and you tried not to flinch at the way the soft mesh came into contact with your own warm plating.

Primus, now was not the time for realizations or revelations. You had already dug yourself into a deep enough hole as it was, and by some miracle, Optimus didn’t seem all that put off.

“It’ll be fine,” he assured you gently, his servos reaching out to grasp yours as he patted them. “The effects aren’t pleasant, of course, but I’m still happy to have been the one to give your first experiment with new flavoring a try.”

Despite the inflation, the big belly, the weight gain, the everything… you still couldn’t believe it. You blinked as he smiled at you, your processor struggling to understand the reassurance.

“It won’t be permanent,” you told him. “Give it a few hours at most, and this should—it should all go down, but I’m sorry, Optimus. I didn’t think… I really didn’t think—“

“I know,” Optimus said. “I understand. It happens. You gave it a valiant first effort, and that is all I could ever ask for.”

He shifted, pulling you along with him, and carefully moved your servos to hover over top the highest swell of his belly. His face was just as flushed as you were sure yours looked, but he smiled all the while as he pressed your fingers into the taut mesh before pulling back, leaving your touch there.

“In the meantime…” he said, relaxing as you began to work, “we’ll make do with what has happened. I’d love to hear more about your plans for this energon, if you’d like, and while you work—“

His gaze turned towards your workstation, and your own optics followed. It was soft, tender, and you would have melted on the spot if you weren’t already working to soothe his belly.