#es tarantulas

• “Is this a strange, human thing?” He asks, claws flexing to grip your fingers and you smile. Trapping that leg against your side, you turn his foot over and he rumbles, head tilting as you trace over his little paw at the end of his leg with a finger. ‘Do you know what a kitten is? Or a cat? You have little kitty paws,’ you tell him and his mandibles shift as he lifts another foot paw, claws at the end flexing as he studies it. “And this is a good thing?” He murmurs, sounding so puzzled you laugh.

• Leaning down obediently when you wave a hand, you hook your fingers in his mandibles and go up on tiptoes so you can press a kiss against him inner mouth. “I think they’re adorable,” you assure him as his extra limbs flare slightly, one tapping against your hip. Rumbling softly as you smile up at him, bottom lip between your teeth, you back away and he lifts himself up on his extra limbs, moving sideways up a wall to parallel you. ‘Adorable?’ He echoes as you grin and your scent shifts.

• Tracking him as you back away, he’s hanging there as his extra limbs move him along the wall. Know he loves this game even if he can’t bring himself to admit it. He acts so sweet and gentle, but a part of him enjoys hunting you even though it embarrasses him. And you like when he chases and captures you, too. See a couple of extra limbs tapping as he makes a soft chittering sound. “Apex predators can be adorable,” you tease and his head tilts.

• Rumbling as he follows you, he draws his limbs under himself waiting. Knows you. Your tells. And when you explode into motion, bare feet thumping on the floor, he throws himself after you. Hears your laughter as he snags you in his arms and swings you up against his chassis, his mandibles flaring to brush his inner mouth against your neck and jaw so you squirm. Still amazed that you can accept him as he is when so many other Cybertronians couldn’t. Seeing only a monster. Certainly never been called adorable before you.

“So…” Nightshade began, their legs kicking in the free air beneath the table they sat atop. “Where have you been all this time?”

It was a simple question more than anything, but Nightshade was really, really curious. Tarantulas hadn’t just been gone for a few days, or even a week, or a month. He’d been gone for ages, and the young bot was just as curious as they were concerned. Or… maybe just curious. After all, their science companion seemed just fine.

The laboratory had been eerily quiet for far too long, but Nightshade never stopped coming by for visits, even in owner’s absence. It was an open door policy, and as far as Tarantulas was concerned, they were welcome in at any time. Still, sticking around when the spider-bot was absent wasn’t nearly as fun, and it felt a little… off.

One day of creeping into the building and gearing themselves up for excitement only to find a serious lack of company to enjoy said excitement with was one thing. Months and months of said absence with no apparent cause? Color them confused.

Tarantulas was friendly enough, but he clearly had his priorities, and sometimes, Nightshade’s interest in small experiments and playing the lab partners role wasn’t at the top of the list. That didn’t explain his strange disappearance, though, and it certainly didn’t explain the “glow up,” as Nightshade was deciding to refer to it as, that had accompanied his return. It was strange all around, and that was on top of Tarantulas and his natural affinity for being strange.

He had come back around in the end, and to make up for it, he had spent the better part of that morning and afternoon (and soon to be evening if they didn’t wrap up soon) with the small bot. Nightshade had held their tongue for the better part of the day, but curiosity was their strong suit, and Tarantulas really wasn’t giving them anything to work with.

It was probably the third time they’d attempted to pry into the scientist’s lair of secrets hidden behind several random experiments he had going all at once. Tarantulas was doing good for the most part, given that keeping Nightshade safe and keeping his lab intact meant scrambling from one table to the next for a good few minutes while the freshly mixed materials settled. His gait was slow, though, and his movements were hindered. The plump frame he bore had grown even plumper in his absence, and by now, the mech was pretty much forced to use the extra appendages to counteract the weight and balance himself out, even in his root mode.

Nightshade was just curious, that was all. Besides, Tarantulas was being strangely distant anymore. Coupled with the weird hang of his belly and his sluggish movements, Nightshade’s concerns grew heightened. They didn’t need specifics, and they didn’t have to hear the whole story. Any other bot would be understandably worried like they were, of course, and as Tarantulas poured small vials into a great big beaker, they continued to press for answers.

“The lab has been fine,” they continued, their servos fidgeting in their lap as they watched Tarantulas work, “and I haven’t been staying long, since… well, since you weren’t present.”

Tarantulas paused, the empty vials in their servos clattering to the table. Nightshade was distracting him, clearly, but… could he blame them?

No, they thought. The answer was definitely no. They still deserved answers, and the mech’s cageyness was only serving to confuse them further.

“I hadn’t planned on such a long absence,” Tarantulas finally said, their back legs relaxing into the floor to prop them up as they continued to pour—slowly, slowly, not sparing a single drop. “I can assure you that all is well. Even if I’m not around, you’re still—“

“Still welcome,” Nightshade nodded, “I know. I just…”

It was more fun when they had someone else there, too. They couldn’t blame Tarantulas for leaving, especially not if the situation called for it. It was just strange. It was very, very strange.

The spider-mech’s limbs creaked beneath his weight as he leaned back, and Nightshade knew for a fact that they had never seen the scientist so… fat.

“Was it something to do with our experiments?” they pressed, hungry for answers but still just as afraid to find out what was going on. “You look different. Did you find something—“

“Different?” Tarantulas echoed. “What do you mean, different?”

Ahh… how did they even begin to answer that? Nightshade’s servos went still in their lap, and their legs stopped kicking. Tarantulas had abandoned his carful work in favor of staring at the small bot. It was hard to read his expression when he wasn’t actively speaking, but the twitching mandibles and the steady gaze of his visor spoke for him.

“Not bad different,” Nightshade quickly assured him, “just… different.”

Chubbier, they silently thought. It seemed so odd for a mech like Tarantulas, but to be fair, they didn’t know much about the mech’s private affairs. They shared a love of science, first and foremost. From there? Plenty of room to fill in the blanks.

Nightshade didn’t expect an explanations any time soon, but luckily for them, Tarantulas seemed happy to clear the air. He shook his helm before beckoning his companion closer with a servo, and as Nightshade jumped down from the table and moved in towards the latest experiment, he sighed.

“It’s a long story,” he said, working with his servos to clear the table while his other limbs held him up. From up close, Nightshade could really see the effects his absence had taken. “I’m afraid I might bore you with the details.”

Nothing bad then. Not that leaving for months without warning and coming back looking like an entirely different bot from the frame size alone was a bad thing, per se… but it was confusing. It was concerning, too. Nightshade’s curiosity was still unsatisfied, and as Tarantulas made himself comfortable, they drew in closer.

“We’ve got all day, haven’t we?” they said, taking up a vial for themselves before picking up where Tarantulas had left off. It benefits of watching from the sidelines, though they would’ve much rather been helping from the start. Luckily for them, Tarantulas was finally letting them in. “Besides, I’ve been told I have a pretty good skill for listening to long, boring stories.”

That part was a stretch, but Tarantulas believed it. Or maybe not… maybe he knew Nightshade was bluffing. Either way, he gave in. He talked, Nightshade listened, and together, they worked.