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Chromedome was exhausted when he finally reached his habsuite. He had done nine autopsies that day, six of them on Autobots. His processor was still swimming, overburdened with memories that weren't his, giving him a thumping low-grade migraine. He'd died too many times today.
He keyed open his habsuite door and narrowed his visor.
"I don't know why I'm surprised."
"I don't either," Brainstorm replied without looking at him. The other mech was stretched out in Chromedome's berth, throwing a ball up towards the ceiling, catching it when it fell, and then repeating the motion. Chromedome closed and locked the door behind him, slapping the light off as he did.
"Move over," he sighed, as he collapsed into his berth. Brainstorm dutifully scooted back against the wall.
"Long day?" he inquired.
"Long day," Chromedome confirmed, "Too many goddamn corpses. Every time I feel like I'm close to getting through them we get more. It never ends."
"The dead just keep on dyin', huh," Brainstorm replied, his casual facade breaking for a moment, and he sounded tired, too.
"So why aren't you sleeping in the barracks this time?" Chromedome asked.
"I could tell you Hardhead was snoring," Brainstorm replied, returning to his ball throwing, "But I think at this point you've gathered I just like your fancy mnemosurgeon room more than my bunk bed."
"I had."
"So?" Brainstorm asked, catching the ball and holding it, "You wanna fuck?"
Chromedome grunted. He was so fucking tired. "No," he answered.
Brainstorm twitched behind him. Chromedome could see his wings tilt back in the shadows they cast across his frame. "Come on. You don't have to do any of the work. I can blow you and you can go to sleep."
"I'm really not in the mood," Chromedome groaned, "I'm seeing dead people in the darkness when I close my eyes. I have enough problems without affiliating sex and death together."
Brainstorm was quiet for a moment, wings vibrating in what Chromedome had gathered was an involuntary display of anxiety.
"Alright," he said eventually, "Sorry for breaking into your room again, then."
"I don't really care," Chromedome admitted, "You don't have to go, you know. You can crash here if you want. The company is honestly nice. You're basically the only person I ever talk to, anyway."
Brainstorm's wings froze and then vibrated again. "Oh. Okay. Thanks."
"Just don't wake me, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it, CD."
Chromedome grabbed at the berth and gasped, pushing his aft back into Brainstorm's thrusts with an uncharacteristic neediness.
"Hah- ah- now that was a good noise," Brainstorm purred, hands on his shoulders pushing his chest down. Chromedome tightened his hands into fists.
"Fuck- Storm, I'm-" Chromedome groaned, shaking his head where his faceplate was mashed into the berth, "I'm close."
"Tell me what you want," Brainstorm said immediately, leaning forward with unmistakable intrigue. His hips kept moving, spike driving into his valve at just the angle he knew made him crazy.
"I need- I-" Chromedome stammered, trying to make his thoughts cogent enough to vocalize, "Touch me."
"On it," Brainstorm quipped, and moved one hand to reach around his front and grab his spike. Chromedome moaned appreciatively, thunking his face straight down.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Chromedome babbled, before he snapped and came with a strangled gasp, going full rigid as it worked through him.
Brainstorm slowed down until Chromedome sagged and he stopped entirely, giving him a solid thump on the back and a chuckle before he pulled out and sat back. Chromedome let his knees slide back so he could lie down fully, ignoring the transfluid he'd just covered the berth beneath him in.
"Gimme a rating," Brainstorm told him.
"Eight," Chromedome answered, still laying facedown.
"Still room for improvement," the jet mumbled with a nod.
"Did you cum?" Chromedome asked, rolling onto his side to look back at him. Brainstorm blinked and looked up, as if he had been lost in thought.
"Hm? No."
Chromedome squinted at him. "I'm sorry."
Brainstorm waved one hand dismissively. "Nah, it's whatever. So what's with the two point dock, huh?"
"You ramped up too fast again," Chromedome replied, rolling onto his back and clicking his visor off, "You get too excited."
"Yeah, to get to the good part."
"Mmhmm." Chromedome hesitated, fluttering his fans as he reregulated his temperature. "And me?"
"I mean, another ten outta ten, I'd say, I don't see any room for improvement."
"You didn't even cum."
"So?"
"Bah," Chromedome grunted. Brainstorm was weird about everything, food, research, sex. He liked him, but he didn't think he'd ever fully understand him. "Wanna clean up and grab dinner?"
"You didn't eat yet?" Brainstorm said, looking up again before he narrowed his eyes at him, "CD, come on, you gotta stop skipping meals. You'll pass out again."
"I didn't skip it," Chromedome groaned, feeling chastised, "I just put it off a little longer."
Brainstorm rolled his optics and shook his head. He pushed himself to his feet and went to retrieve a towel. "Yeah. I'll take you down to mess cuz I wanna see you actually pack some fuel away for once. Mach'll kill me if I let you die."
"I'm not gonna die," Chromedome huffed, "And I don't know why you're bringing up Mach."
Brainstorm wiped himself off and then tossed the cloth to Chromedome, snapping his array shut. "Because he liiiikes you," he sing-songed mischievously. Chromedome groaned again.
"Stop saying that! He doesn't! We're just friends!"
"He totally does," Brainstorm insisted, "Just you wait. He's gonna get the courage to ask you out eventually. And then where will poor Brainstorm sleep!" He sighed dramatically and feigned a swoon, leaning back against the desk table. "Back to the barracks with him! Subject to all the horrors of communal living, including whoever it is that pissed in my sheets that time."
"That's disgusting," Chromedome commented. "I'm not kicking you out. You don't have to fuck to live here. I'll just get another bed."
Brainstorm stopped and stared at him. "What, seriously? What about when you wanna bring Mach back and get busy with him?"
"Then get out of the room for an hour," Chromedome said, squinting at him as if it were obvious, "That's like, a normal roommate agreement."
Brainstorm continued staring, wings buzzing off and on. "Really?"
"I'm not sending you back to the piss barracks," Chromedome told him, and looked away to wipe himself down, "I like you too much, asshole."
Brainstorm blinked. He fluttered his wings. He stood up and leaned away from the desk. "Okay." He paused. "Thank you."
Brainstorm hesitated outside of his habsuite. Chromedome's habsuite. The habsuite Chromedome let him sleep in. His hand hovered over the keypad and he thought back to the days when he used to crack open the keypad and bypass the security code to get in. Chromedome was always so standoffish. He kept people at arm's length, and yet, he was so desperate for connection. So desperate to touch and feel and be felt. Terrified, too. Brainstorm could always feel relief in his field when he showed up uncalled for, when he broke into his room and demanded attention, when he changed their schedules in the database so their lunch hours lined up. The burden of trying seemed too much for him. And even yet. And even still.
He punched in his key code. The one Chromedome had given him. He opened the door.
"...Hey," said Brainstorm, a little confused. He had expected Chromedome to be curled up in the dark, but the lights were on. He was taping a heavy looking box closed.
"Storm," Chromedome replied. Brainstorm lingered uncomfortably in the doorway.
"What are you doing?" Brainstorm asked.
"I'm putting Mach's things away," Chromedome answered. He set the box on the floor by the door. "I can't look at them anymore."
Brainstorm's spark felt cold. "Oh." He closed the door behind him. "I understand."
"No, you don't," Chromedome said, though his tone remained cool and unchanged. Brainstorm's spark roiled cold in his chest, and he thought about Quark. He thought about the fall of K'th Kinsere, centuries ago now, and about whispers from above about a place called Grindcore. He shook his head.
"No," he said instead, "I don't."
Chromedome sat down on his berth, staring at the floor. "I have a shift tomorrow. Afternoon at least."
Brainstorm wilted. "Already?"
"People die every day," Chromedome murmured, "There's no time to mourn them. Any of them."
"Did Trepan say that?" Brainstorm hissed.
"It doesn't matter," Chromedome answered, "He's right."
"Fuck that," Brainstorm cursed, "Fuck him. Don't go. I'll talk to him."
"If you put a foot in Trepan's office he'll shadowplay you before you can open your mouth," Chromedome snapped.
Brainstorm froze. He knew what Chromedome did, he knew what mnemosurgery was. He was even relatively certain they did it on Autobots sometimes. But that- he didn't know if Chromedome was serious or not.
"I…" he croaked uncertainly, "Would he really?"
Chromedome didn't respond. After a moment he swung his legs onto the berth and rolled onto his side, facing the wall, away from him. Brainstorm wavered hesitantly, before he turned off the light and climbed into the other berth.
"Do you really know what I do?" Chromedome asked, voice raspy in the darkness.
Brainstorm frowned beneath his faceplate and hugged his arms.
"Yes."
"Do you?" he repeated. "Do you know that I can run through your mind with a fine toothed comb and pluck out feelings of dissent? I can find the moment an Autobot shot your conjunx endura through the spark and make it a Decepticon instead. I can change all of your friends, the stories they told and feelings they shared. I can find the memory where you looked at your functionist ID card for the first time and saw that it said disposable, and then I can take your righteous fury and indignation and make it pride and acceptance. I can take everything you are, everything you've been, everything you could be and make them something else. "
Brainstorm was frozen like ice, certain even his spark had ceased pulsing in his chest. He stared at the wall, wide eyes and unblinking in the dark.
"It's all just data," Chromedome murmured, "Your memories. Your thoughts. Your feelings. Just data. Rewriteable. All we are is data."
Brainstorm couldn't respond. He didn't know how. The darkness swam around him, but Chromedome didn't say anything else. At some point, he fell asleep.
Brainstorm woke to a feeling of warmth.
In the first few moments, it was nice. But the moments continued and with each one his growing awareness brought new facts, incongruent and concerning. Weight. Pressure. Light. An arm slung across his chest. Metal against his back. The sound of an engine at rest. He was not alone in his berth.
He shifted, tilting just so to see one of Chromedome's finials poking up over his shoulder. Pity swirled in him. It had been a long time since Chromedome slept alone. Even before Mach had been beside him he'd slept next to Brainstorm more often than not. He never seemed to rest easy on his own.
"Mm," Chromedome mumbled, stirring softly. Brainstorm twitched, making it clear that he was awake. "Morning."
"Morning," Brainstorm replied, trying not to sound as half hearted as he was. Chromedome tightened his arm's grip around his chest and rolled his hips forward.
Brainstorm stalled when he realized his spike was pressed against his lower back, hard.
"You got early shift?" Chromedome asked him, "I've got afternoon."
"I- I know," Brainstorm stammered, "I have the day off, uh-"
Chromedome's faceplate nuzzled the back of his neck. He rut his hips forward, making friction between them. Brainstorm could feel his own equipment stir in interest and felt queasy.
"Good," he said, "I'm thinking you could use another ten out of ten morning."
"What are you doing?" Brainstorm asked, confused and deeply uncomfortable, trapped between his desire to push him away and fear that if he did he'd never come back.
"I'm coming onto you," Chromedome laughed easily, "It's hardly the first time."
"No, but-" Brainstorm finally rolled over until he could sit up and face him, "Mach's funeral was yesterday, Chromedome! What is this?"
Chromedome stared at him, with no flicker of recognition in his visor. "Who?"
Brainstorm froze again. "What do you mean, who?"
Chromedome narrowed his visor in a frown and then pushed himself up. For a moment, his head turned away, and Brainstorm could see the back of his neck.
He could see the marks on the back of his neck.
The marks that hadn't been there the previous evening when he had laid in his berth with his back to him.
"Chromedome…" Brainstorm whispered, spark cast asunder. Horror spread through his lines like ice. The full realization of what was happening washed over him. Chromedome tilted his head at him.
"What?" he asked with a chuckle, seemingly unconcerned. Brainstorm hadn't heard him laugh in ages. Not since Mach died. Brainstorm didn't respond and Chromedome leaned forward, voice shifting as he touched Brainstorm's jaw and tilted it up to look in his optics. "Did you have that nightmare again? The prisoner of war dream?"
"I-" Brainstorm stammered. He looked into Chromedome's visor and did not see the endless depths of anguish he had seen just the previous night, the miles deep chasms of despair that threatened to consume him like a black hole. He swallowed.
"Yeah," Brainstorm continued, ignoring the tremble in his hands, "Yeah. I did. That one."
Chromedome softened and his shoulders sank. "I'm sorry."
Brainstorm didn't fight him when he pulled him in for a hug, letting him bury his face in his chest. He couldn't stop himself from hacking a choked sob, and tightened his shaking hands into fists.
"It's okay," Chromedome soothed, rubbing his back while Brainstorm bit his tongue on a hundred how could you's. "They're just bad memories. They'll fade away soon."
"Go on. Rate him."
"I'm not rating him."
Brainstorm offered Chromedome another pass from the bottle of engex they were sharing. "Keep drinking. I'll ask again later."
Chromedome rolled his optical display, but he accepted the bottle. "You're incorrigible. I'm not rating my sex life with my new boyfriend. Not to you."
"I'm only curious! Scientifically!" Brainstorm giggled, close to drunk already. The bunker shook, dust drifting down from overhead. Neither acknowledged this. They'd be stuck underground awhile yet before it was safe to move to a new outpost.
Brainstorm hadn't seen his friend since he left The New Institute- since the accident that had left him hospitalized for months. The New Institute was gone now, shut down as it's mnemosurgeons continued to die off, eventually leaving the organization a withered husk of bored R&D techs and guards with nothing to do. Brainstorm was apprehensively delighted to learn he'd somehow found a new romantic interest to pursue. Chromedome was somehow the luckiest and unluckiest mech Brainstorm had ever met.
"You're curious if you're a better lay than him," Chromedome scoffed. He took a hard swig.
"Of course I am!" Brainstorm clapped his hands together. "Does he want my notes? You should ask him if he wants my notes."
"No!" Chromedome laughed despite himself. "That's awful! Absolutely not. Do not tell him you have notes."
"Boooo."
Chromedome swished the bottle and then passed it back. "He's brilliant, Storm. He's got this database just full of archived footage. Sometimes I think he actually knows everything. You know he can tell who someone is just by the sound of them transforming? It's amazing. I've never seen anything like it." He sighed wistfully. "You're really going to like him."
"If you like him, I'm sure I will," Brainstorm mused. He was sure he would, though he knew better by now than to get too close. Chromedome's love interests didn't tend to live long. "So when do I get to meet him?"
"His transport is arriving tomorrow morning," Chromedome replied, "He wasn't finished archiving all the security footage before the last transport left. I figured I'd come over and start fighting over bunk space early to save him the trouble."
"Mm," Brainstorm nodded along, "Where are you shipping out after this?"
"Kimia," Chromedome answered, "They're moving me off planet."
"Really!" Brainstorm sat up, "Me too!"
Chromedome brightened. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'll be nice to have you around again."
Brainstorm felt warm in his chest. "Same. I missed you."
"Am I interrupting something?"
Both of them looked up from where they were reclined on one of the room's two berths at the minibot standing in the doorway.
"Rewind!" Chromedome cried, elated, "What are you doing here?"
"My transport left early," he answered without looking at him, optics locked on the blue jet camped out beside his partner, "Who are you?"
"Oh, this is Brainstorm," Chromedome explained, waving at him, "He's an old friend of mine. We used to work together."
"Uh-huh," Rewind said, visor narrowed at Brainstorm.
"So this is the fella that stole your spark and knows everything there is to know, huh?" Brainstorm beamed, ignoring Rewind's visible suspicion. "Nice to meet ya."
"Where was it that you two worked together?" Rewind asked.
Chromedome hesitated uncomfortably, but Brainstorm wasn't afraid of the truth like his friend was. "The New Institute! Maybe you've heard of it. Maybe you haven't. All very hush hush, you know."
"I know," Rewind answered, "Chromedome told me all about it."
"Well," Brainstorm said coolly, "Did he now?" Chromedome's optics darted toward him in panic but Brainstorm forged ahead, undaunted. "Did he tell you we were roommates?"
"No," Rewind answered slowly, looking at Chromedome, "He didn't."
"Right!" Chromedome interrupted, voice a high pitch, "Well! Yes, Brainstorm is a fantastic weapons engineer. I'm sure he-"
"I'm going to Kimia, too," Brainstorm announced. Rewind narrowed his visor at him.
"I guess we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, then, huh?" Rewind asked flatly, glaring at Brainstorm.
"I'm sure we will," Brainstorm replied.
Brainstorm hiked Whirl's legs up higher, changing the angle to drive his spike even deeper into Whirl's valve. The helicopter groaned under him, head lolled back so far Brainstorm couldn't even see his optic.
"That better?" he asked, panting, gushing steam from his vents.
"Uh-huh," Whirl answered eloquently. Brainstorm marked the angle in his notes and kept going. Whirl liked things hard and fast and generally kind of rough. He liked being told what to do and he liked not having to make decisions. Whirl seemed happiest when someone bent him over a table and did all the work.
This was perfectly fine by him. Brainstorm much preferred doing all the work. He had a system and he had strategy and he very much took pride in his work and it annoyed him to no end when a berth partner wasn't paying attention to all the good work he was doing and tried too hard to reciprocate.
Whirl grabbed the guns under his cockpit and thumbed the edge of the barrel on either, and grinned at the way Whirl arched his spinal strut, shoving them up into his touch.
"Is it working?" Brainstorm inquired.
"It-" Whirl panted, and then went slack, shaking his head. Brainstorm slowed to a stop.
"Not even close?" Brainstorm huffed unhappily.
"I mean I don't know how I would tell," Whirl argued, gesturing with one claw, "I ain't never done it before. How do I know what it's supposed to feel like, huh?"
"I think you'd know it when you felt it," Brainstorm sighed. He rested his elbows on Whirl's knees. "You wanna call it quits for the day? Engex is on me."
"I could go for a pint," Whirl huffed, and Brainstorm pulled out and searched for a rag in his nightstand to clean up with.
"We're going to get it," Brainstorm assured him, "I have been chatting out every response I get and I think I've got some ideas for directions to go."
"Mm. Empirical data. Tasty."
"I think maybe your stamina is the problem. Have you ever tried one of those fuck machines?"
"They aren't exactly laying around," Whirl said in a dry voice and accepted a rag that Brainstorm threw him. "Besides. That sounds like such a fuckin hassle. Time? Clean up? Storage? Ugh."
"You are being very defeatist. Do you want a valve overload or not?"
"Of course I do!" Whirl snapped, "I dunno why I ain't ever got one. Why the hell am I the one that had to be cursed with broke pussy disease, huh?"
"I don't know-" Brainstorm said, holding up a finger to signal wait dramatically, "-Yet! But we will find out. Have you considered it might genuinely be a physical problem?"
"Like what?"
"Well, you said you had pretty significant nerve damage, right?"
"Uh-huh. Both arms are totally insensate, hehe," he giggled, snipping his claws.
"I want to run some diagnostics," Brainstorm hummed, crossing his legs and tapping his faceplate, "I want to pull some feedback from your sensornet and check through the area and see if everything is actually connected and functioning correctly."
"Cool," said Whirl, "Wouldn't it rule if that was the problem? Just like tighten some screws and wham bam, we screwin' good again!"
"Well, we shall see. I'll requisition medibay for supplies and let you know when we can run a scan."
"Cool," Whirl repeated, and then paused, "Hey. You didn't finish. You can finish, if you want, I'm not down for the count or anything."
"Hm?" Brainstorm looked up at him and then down at his own lap, "No, no, I'm fine, no worries. I want to go make some notes actually before I forget anything."
"Sick," said Whirl, and flopped down on his back. Brainstorm stood up and crossed the room to his desk to grab a datapad.
"Take a nap if you want," Brainstorm handwaved, "I'll be busy for awhile."
"Roger that, spaceman," Whirl mumbled.
Brainstorm capped the container and then leaned down to peer inside, watching the materials mix and react. The colours bloomed outward at first, green and yellow, before the entire thing solidified, vibrating gently.
"Fascinating," he murmured, optics glittering. The material jiggled harder.
"Is it reacting to sound?" Rewind inquired from where he was sitting on the table, legs crossed. Brainstorm had needed to clear space off his desk to give him somewhere to sit since none of his chairs were tall enough to put the minibot's optics into viewing range of the container. He looked like he was sitting in a throne of datapads and discarded tools.
"It's reacting to infrasound," Brainstorm corrected.
"Do you have any practical applications for it yet?" Rewind asked.
"Not yet!" Brainstorm tittered, standing straight up and setting his hands on his hips, "But I have some ideas that require further development. I'll show you when I have something that looks good for the camera."
"Aw, I think your frantic attempts to explain complex concepts to the layman are very entertaining tv," Rewind laughed, "I don't have nearly enough footage of them."
"Well, that's because you only started visiting my lab a year ago!" Brainstorm scoffed, and then tapped the glass of the container. The material roller over itself, gurgling. "Hmm."
"Not true," Rewind said coyly, "I visited your lab sometimes. You know, to accuse you of sleeping with my husband."
"How many times again?" Brainstorm pretended to wonder, tapping his faceplate.
"Four, I think."
"Five," Brainstorm corrected, "I'm counting when the other Rewind came by to do it one last time before Overlord broke out."
"Primus, did he?" Rewind snorted, unable to be brought down even by dark memories. He felt warm and happy, and deeply relieved. "I'm glad we're friends now. I shouldn't have spent so much time fighting you."
Brainstorm waved a hand dismissively. "Water, bridge, yada yada. We're both jerks."
Rewind paused and looked around the lab, making sure no one had wandered in when he hadn't been looking. "Hey. Speaking of being friends-"
"Hm?"
"So, I know you and Domey used to have a thing-"
"And I told you," Brainstorm huffed, "We never did anything after you got together!"
"No, no, I believe you!" Rewind insisted, waving his hands in front of him, "But- he mentioned your notes. "
Brainstorm hesitated before he giggled madly. "Oh my god. He didn't. He told you about the notes?"
Rewind clasped his hands together and lit up his visor, glittering with desire. "You have to show me the notes, Stormy!"
"Chromedome would kill me!" Brainstorm scoffed, "What makes you think I even still have them after two and a half million years?"
"Because it's scientific data," Rewind replied, "You never throw out data!"
"You really wanna read all the details of me and your husband's sexual escapades?" Brainstorm folded his arms. "You're not going to kill me in my sleep if I tell you exactly how many times I bent him over?"
"Cross my spark!" Rewind said, making a motion across his chest, "I have renounced jealousy. As much as I can, anyway. Point is I have accepted your sexual history with my husband and that he would never ever cheat on me, not even with you, so now I really want to know all your empirical data on what he likes, because god knows he doesn't tell me."
Brainstorm huffed a laugh. "I bet he tells you he likes everything just fine and you're doing a great job, no room for improvement, because he's terrified to hurt your feelings, huh?"
"Miserable!" Rewind groaned, throwing his hands in the air, "Now gimme."
Brainstorm rolled his optics and then finally dug into his deep storage for a long unopened file he zipped and sent over. Rewind sat up straight as he accepted the download and then sat momentarily in silence, optics tracking behind his visor across his HUD.
"Wow," Rewind commented, "You marked the exact angle to hit his ceiling node. Are these graphs?"
"Well it's a different angle from different positions, isn't it?"
"You know, I was expecting this to be a lot kinkier," Rewind observed. "Do you still take notes like this?"
"Oh, yeah, sometimes," Brainstorm leaned back against the other workbench, "You know I got a thing with Whirl."
"Yes, I had noticed." Rewind paused again, still reading, "You must have a ton of data in your own file by now, huh?"
"Hm?"
"Your own file," Rewind repeated, "Wherever you're taking notes on yourself."
Brainstorm blinked at him. "Why would I take notes on myself?"
Rewind closed his HUD and squinted at him. "So you know what you like?"
"I don't need notes for that," Brainstorm scoffed, "The notes are for improving my performance."
"Not even for self servicing?" Rewind balked, "I'd expect to see some kind of chart comparing sizes and materials and room temperature or something at least."
"Oh," Brainstorm blinked, "I don't do that."
"Do what? Do your note thing for self servicing?"
"No. I don't self service."
Rewind stared at him. "You're joking."
"What?" Brainstorm seemed genuinely confused, "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing's wrong with it, I just-" Rewind seemed like he was struggling to find the right words, rubbing the back of his head, "I'm just kind of surprised, I guess. You act like you have a lot of casual stuff going on and then you've got like, hard data on performance, it's just- there's nothing wrong with it."
Brainstorm shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just sort of- boring, is all. It's not the same, you know?"
Rewind narrowed his visor at him as if he really did not know. "...Yeah, I guess. Sorry, anyway, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought that-"
"Bah!" Brainstorm huffed, "You didn't make me uncomfortable. I have no problem talking about sex. In any case, happy to have my results peer reviewed after all this time."
Rewind chuckled, feeling a little better. "I'll let you know how the new data affects my own experiments."
Whirl fidgeted. "I dunno. I got nothing, man."
Brainstorm hummed unhappily, one hand on a datapad and the other on Whirl's valve, thumb against his node. "I don't think it's nerve damage."
"I'm just not really getting anything. I'd rather just fuck like normal, you know, pass over that bit."
"Mm, same," Brainstorm mumbled, still reading over the output data he was getting. "It really does look like everything is working properly."
"If it's working properly than where's my damn overload?" Whirl huffed.
Brainstorm set the datapad down and pulled his hand away. "I dunno. Wanna try looking for it again?"
"May as well, I'm already here and I already got my pants down."
"God, can you imagine if we had to wear pants?"
"Oh, hell, I would hate that."
"It would be awful. Okay! Stop getting distracted. Come on, let's go another round."
"Hey, Perce," Brainstorm chirped as he ducked into the other scientist's lab, "Care to give a second opinion?"
"Of course," Perceptor replied, looking up from a microscope, "Always. What am I reviewing?"
"I've been trying to figure out why Whirl can't get a valve overload," he told him, handing Perceptor a datapad. The other scientist rolled his eye but accepted it. "I've compared the data I've gotten from him to control groups and it's very strange."
Brainstorm's optic tracked over the screen before he looked up at him. "Has it occurred to you, Brainstorm, that this is extremely bizarre behaviour?"
"What is?"
"Are you really trying to create a standard model for performing well at sex?" he cocked an optic ridge at him. "Has it occurred to you that most people simply enjoy it?"
"Duh," Brainstorm scoffed, "Everyone enjoys it, I know that."
"No, they don't."
Brainstorm stopped. He waited. "What?"
"Not everyone enjoys it, Brainstorm."
Brainstorm stared at him. "Explain."
"I don't," Perceptor answered coolly, handing the datapad back, "Maybe Whirl is just asexual. He has a fairly public history of trauma, I wouldn't be surprised if it was conflicting with his ability to self-determine his own motivations."
Brainstorm stared at him blankly. Perceptor waited for a response and didn't get one.
"Brainstorm," he prompted, "Are you alright?"
"No, that can't be it," Brainstorm dismissed, as if he had rebooted, "I think it must be something else. I'll keep you updated." He clutched the datapad to his chest as he turned and left, "I'll figure it out!"
Perceptor watched him leave with a grimace, deeply concerned.
"Uh, you called me?" Whirl said, leaning into Brainstorm's habsuite. Brainstorm stood up.
"Yes! I'm going to figure this out, Whirl, so help me God." He grabbed a table cloth set over his desk and ripped it away, revealing a plethora of sex toys.
Whirl whistled. "Oooh. You got the fancy stuff. Who's your dealer?"
"I take that secret to my grave," Brainstorm informed him, "But we are going to try every goddamn one of these and we are going to figure out what the hell works!"
Whirl rubbed his claws together and kicked the door shut. "Hell yeah. Brute force, now that's what I'm talking about."
"Brainstorm."
Brainstorm pulled his face up from his desk, vision swimming through foggy optics. "Huh? Wh-"
"You fell asleep." Chromedome gently touched his shoulder, alerting him to his presence. Brainstorm swung his head toward him, unfocused optics blinking away sleep.
"No I didn't," he argued, "I just shut my eyes for a second."
"Storm. Come on. You've been overworking yourself again." Chromedome offered him a hand and Brainstorm stared at it, debating fighting him more. Eventually he decided he was too tired to argue and accepted the offer, letting Chromedome pull him up and throw his arm over his sizeable shoulders. "You were supposed to stop doing that, remember?"
"I don't remember making any binding promises to that regard," Brainstorm mumbled in response, "'Sides, my room still smells like smoke. Don't wanna sleep there 'till it airs out."
"You can stay in my room, then," Chromedome asserted, "But one way or another, you are getting into a berth and going to sleep."
"Yes, sirrrrr," Brainstorm drawled sleepily. He let Chromedome lead his stumbling feet down the corridor and back to him and Rewind's habsuite. He must have commed his conjunx on the way there, because Rewind opened the door as soon as Chromedome tapped on it.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," Rewind said gently, voice light and friendly. Brainstorm mumbled a half-conscious hello and let Chromedome drag him the rest of the way across the room. This was the moment he remembered that Chromedome and Rewind only had one berth ever since they shoved the two singles together to make a single double.
However, he only had a second or two for the anxiety about this to needle at him before the exhaustion took over and brought him right back to the same much needed sleep he'd only just been roused from.
Brainstorm woke to a feeling of warmth, a spark pulse thrumming against his plating, the sound of an engine at rest and quiet vent cycles. When he finally convinced his eyes to open he remembered where he was- Chromedome and Rewind's room, where he'd passed out the night prior. He sighed and tightened his grip on what he was holding.
Wait.
What was he holding?
Brainstorm looked down and realized belatedly that at some point in the night he had grabbed Rewind like a stuffed animal and clutched him against his chest. The minibot was currently asleep, head resting against Brainstorm's chest and arms thrown over his abdomen.
He tried not to panic and failed.
"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!" Brainstorm yelped, kicking himself backward. He fell off the side of the double berth and hit his head on the nightstand.
"Stormy!" he heard Rewind cry above him while he grabbed his head and groaned. Rewind appeared over the edge of the berth. "Oh my god, are you okay?"
"It was an accident," Brainstorm said immediately, squeezing his optics shut as the pain bloomed outward and then began to dull, "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing for hitting your own head?" Rewind balked, "Come here. Let me look at it."
"Is he okay?" he heard Chromedome ask. He felt a cold pit in his fuel tank.
"No, no, I'm sorry for- for- you know," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"What?"
Brainstorm finally reopened his optics and grabbed the edge of the berth to help him sit up. "You should have put me on the floor, I don't mind sleeping on the floor."
"What are you- Stormy, I would have slept on Chromedome's other side if I cared. Are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard." Rewind's visor was bright with concern. Brainstorm couldn't help but frown behind his blast mask at him, staring nervously up from the floor.
"I don't get it," he said finally. "What do you want?"
Rewind stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"I know I'm a genius," Brainstorm said, "But I'm no good at social cues. You have to tell me if you're flirting with me."
"What??"
Chromedome leaned over the side over top of Rewind. "Storm, what are you talking about? How hard did you hit your head??"
"If this is a sex thing you have to say so!" Brainstorm snapped, "I don't get it if you don't!"
"What?" Rewind squinted at him, baffled, "Stormy, you need to calm down. You're not making any sense."
"I'm making perfect sense!" Brainstorm insisted, " You're not making sense!"
"I'm gonna take him to Ratchet."
"I don't need to see Ratchet!" Brainstorm huffed and pushed himself to his feet, wings fluttering anxiously against his back. "I don't mean to get overly familiar. You should have let me sleep at my desk."
"I don't understand. That's what's freaked you out? We've bunked together a hundred times." Chromedome squinted at him.
"It's different!"
"Stormy, sit down, you're having some kind of anxiety attack," Rewind fretted. Brainstorm bounced foot to foot and then huffed and sat down on the edge of the berth, crossing his arms.
"It's different," he repeated.
"Okay, then, just take a step back and explain h-" Rewind put a hand on his shoulder and Brainstorm flinched away as if burned, "Wow, okay. That was a reaction."
"Nn," Brainstorm mumbled.
"Hey, hey," Rewind said more softly, "What's going on with you?"
"Listen, I'll do whatever you want, I just want to know, alright, I despise not knowing, my absolute least favourite state of being is in the dark, okay?" He was still jittering nervously, wings vibrating and foot tapping against the ground.
Rewind stared at him. "You grabbed me in your sleep, Stormy. That's it. That's all that happened. It's not this big a deal."
"You and me have slept in shitty little single mech cots in a hundred underground raid bunkers," Chromedome added, "You've never freaked out like this before."
"It's different with you!"
Rewind narrowed his visor suddenly. "Brainstorm, I'm not trying to sleep with you."
"No?" Brainstorm prompted, and then didn't wait for an answer, "Good. Good, okay, cool."
"Did I give you that impression??" Rewind balked, "I'm genuinely sorry. It definitely wasn't intentional."
"No, I know, I know," Brainstorm tapped his foot a little faster and shrugged noncommittally, "But, you know."
"We really really don't, Storm," Chromedome replied, "Even I have no idea what is going on in your head right now."
"I've just got a lot going on that I'm thinking about and I'm not in the mood to pay for attention right now, okay?" Brainstorm stood up and began pacing. "I've got too much data to go through and none of it is adding up correctly. I can't focus. I can't do a good job if I'm working with fallible data."
Rewind took a deep breath and carded his hands in front of his face before he looked up again. "Okay. Alright. Hang on a second. Can I just take a shot in the dark here?" Brainstorm glanced over at him. "Do you ever feel like you owe people sex for paying attention to you?'
Brainstorm stopped and fluttered his wings. "Well, yeah, it's reciprocal."
"Oh, god, Storm," Chromedome sighed, burying his face in his hands.
"What!"
"I don't even know where to begin on explaining how unhealthy that mentality is," Rewind said, dragging a hand down his face.
"Everybody does it!" Brainstorm scoffed, "That's just how things are and I'm not afraid to acknowledge it!"
"Oh, god, is this really what the notes were about?" Chromedome groaned, "How many times did I tell you that you didn't have to fuck to stay???"
"Backup!" Brainstorm set his hands on his hips. "For later! I always came around."
Chromedome dropped his hands away, staring at him in horror. "Holy shit. That's what you thought I was doing?"
"Stormy, oh my god."
"What!"
"Storm," Chromedome said slowly, "Throw the fucking notes away."
"I can't!" Brainstorm insisted, returning to his frantic pacing, "That's the only way I know what to do! And if I don't know what to do, then I'm going to fail at it, and Perceptor said that was bizarre but that's what I've always done, and-"
"What do you mean that's the only way you know what to do?" Rewind balked.
"I don't know what works, I only have my notes to tell me works on other people!" Brainstorm explained, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "It's a system! Its my system!"
"Stormy," Rewind said slowly, as if coaxing a wild animal, "Do you- do you actually like sex?"
Brainstorm stopped pacing and fidgeted foot to foot, wings vibrating, before he finally answered. "I like being good at it."
"But do you like it?"
Brainstorm bounced on his heels again, arms crossed tightly before he shrugged, looking away. "I don't- I don't know, actually."
"Storm..." Chromedome sagged.
"Oh, Stormy, come here," Rewind said gently, beckoning to him, "Come sit back down. You're definitely having an anxiety attack. Nobody's going to touch you, I promise."
Brainstorm nodded anxiously and then sat back down, drawing up his knees. He stared stubbornly downward, jittering.
"I don't know," he repeated, "I don't know suddenly. I hate not knowing anything. I should know this."
"It's okay to not know," Rewind soothed, "There's nothing wrong with that."
"I have to know! Everybody knows! This is like, the most easy thing in the world to know. Everybody likes sex. Who doesn't like sense?"
"I think Drift and Perceptor are both ace," Rewind replied.
"Are they?" Chromedome commented, "I got that feeling from Drift but I've never heard him say so."
"Oh, I have, it came up in conversation."
"But that's- it's- I've had a lot of it! I can't be that, I have sex all the time," Brainstorm argued.
"Again, though. Do you actually like it?" Rewind repeated.
Brainstorm fidgeted, looking upset. "I don't know."
"Do you think you actually mean you don't know," Rewind asked, "Or that you do know and you don't like the answer?"
"Hnngh," Brainstorm replied.
"Ah, fuck," Chromedome sighed, "I'm sorry, Storm."
"I don't want that!" Brainstorm snapped, "I don't want you to be sorry, I want to be normal, if I'm not then I'm a huge asshole for dragging you and everybody else into a bunch of pointless, unsatisfying frag sessions and that's just- that's just-"
"Hey, hey," Chromedome soothed, palms out as if he wanted to touch his shoulder, but Rewind grabbed his wrist to stop him before he could. "It's okay. Hey, there's a lot of reasons you're not normal, but I wouldn't say that's one of them."
Brainstorm shot him a dry look.
"Okay, okay, not funny. You're not an asshole. If anyone should feel bad it's me. I should have noticed."
"How would you have noticed!" Brainstorm cried, throwing his hands in the air, " I didn't notice!"
"It takes some people longer than others," Rewind told him, "Don't feel bad."
"I feel so stupid," Brainstorm mumbled, folding his arms again, "Which is potentially the worst feeling of all."
"You're not," Rewind assured him, "We all know you are, in fact, ship's genius. It just took you longer to figure out, is all."
"I don't know what to do," Brainstorm admitted, wings sagging, "Just stop?"
"Well, yeah, that would be nice my suggestion."
Brainstorm heaved a heavy sigh and then sat up straight. "Hrm. I think I have to talk to Whirl about something."
"Yeaahhhhh."
"You're gonna be okay, bud," Chromedome added, "No worries."
Brainstorm ran a hand over his face. "Right. Okay. Yeah." He stood up, thought better of it, sat down again, and grabbed Rewind in a hug.
"Oof."
"Thanks for yelling at me!" he chirped, and set the minibot back down, "Seriously though I think I have to go talk to Whirl right now."
With that, he stood up and bolted out of the room.
"He's a total disaster," Rewind sighed.
"Aren't we all."