PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DRAW 1EGGS THAT ONE CHEF SKIN FOR 1X I NEED TO SEE HIM EAT SOMEONE
I got chu bro! :} đâš
( also sorry yâall for the late posting recently, I have been busy doing commissions meanwhile stressing through massive art block. đ„ but I am back now! :D )
D-16 didnât have time to finish off the rest of his lot before he was being whisked away for a check-in under scrutinizing gazes and firm servos. His belly was so huge now that he could hardly work, let alone bend over. It was painful and strange, and the energon inside left his tanks a noisy, gurgling mess. He could hear the liquid sloshing against the walls of his insides as he waddled through the caverns and headed for the medical wing, his servos held protectively over his poor, aching belly.
The little break from work was nice. It was even nicer when nothing came of the short and sour look-over from tired medics and grouchy assistants. D-16 held his tongue and kept his servos cupping the lower well of his belly as the lead mech felt around the firm curve and pushed against the bloated mesh. His frown only deepened as he watched D-16âs discomfort grow from every poke and prod to his poor, grumbling belly.
Heâd seen this before time and time again. Just like Orion and his dangerous rebellious streak made him popular for all the wrong reasons amongst their leaders and overseers, the aftermath of every last outing of his usually ended in D-16 being forced to stop by the medical wing for a quick once-over. He was a popular face here, too, and for all the wrong reasonsâjust like Orion.
âThanks, pal,â D-16 muttered under his breath as he heaved himself back up to his pedes, wobbling all the way.
He was cleared for now, though he had been strongly encouraged to sit out the last hour of his shift in order to let things settle. D-16 wasnât going to argue about that; he needed the time to himself to settle his nerves and rid himself of the stupid flustered flush still burning in his cheeks. He needed time to tend to his belly and soothe his poor tanks, too. It had been close to an hour now since he was taken from the mines, yet he still felt so uncomfortable stuffed and swollen.
The break room was blessedly empty by the time D-16 had managed to haul his aft over there. He sat with easy movements and a long, relieved sigh at the nearest table before going right back to tending to his poor belly. He was out of sight and away from the chaos in here, at least, which meant he could focus without discomfort. At the same time, it also meant he was much more aware of every angry gurgle and painful rumble that worked its way out of the sloshing mess of fuel packed into his tanks.
The lighting wasnât much to boast about, and the seats were uncomfortable, but from here he could lean back against the wall and let his balloon of a belly spill out into his lap with much less restraint. It was still so painful, even after he had sat down. He could feel it stretching his mesh and straining against the warped plating that still clung desperately to his middle. The longer he looked, the easier it was to make out the faint ripples running across the taut curve of his belly, too, and the spasms of pain that came with them.
He wasnât going to be partaking in whatever mess they served for fuel later that evening, he knew that much. Hell, he might not even make it to breakfast in the morning. Heâd packed a few cubes away before, but he had never been so full, so tight⊠so sloshy.
There was nowhere for the energon to go. There couldnât have been any room left unfilled in his tanks, either. He was almost sure of it. And yet⊠here he sat, belly grumbling and face set in a grimace, tanks audibly sloshing and his innards churning harder than the vibration of a drill biting into a rock wall. He was far past the point of being stuffed, and he didnât feel sick. He was just packed to full, swollen beyond his limits. He was quite literally the mech equivalent of cube filled to the brim with just enough space at the top for things to slosh and churn. It was terribly uncomfortable.
A part of him hoped he could wait here for the last hour of the day until the first wave of crew-mates came into eat. Then, if he was careful, he could slip away unnoticed and head for the charging units. He needed to sleep this off, most likely. He could see how he felt tomorrow. Alas, only part of his wish came true, but it was a further blessing that the only bot who came knocking on the cavernâs walls with concern etched into their face and a guilty smile was Orion.
There were no guards. There were no other workers. It was just them once again, and praise the Primes above, D-16 was grateful for it.
âHey, big guyâŠâ Orion carefully began as he headed over to D-16âs side. âYou, uh⊠you doing okay in here?â
Orion left ample space between them as he sat, and for the time being, D-16 was grateful for the breathing room. His belly felt bigger than it was when he closed his optics. Even with his servos cupping its gurgling curve and his frame tensed against the bubbling pressure, he feared that he would see something massive and hulking dwarfing his frame when he opened his optics again.
D-16 merely grunted at first. It hurt to speak too much. Maybe hurt wasnât the right word for it, the more he thought on the matter, but it certainly felt strange. He could feel Orion shuffling closer. His companionâs frame just barely brushed against his own as he closed the inches between them.
âWow,â he said, sounding surprised. D-16 cracked his optics open wide enough to see a servo hovering just over the swell of his belly. âThat looks painful. Does it hurt? I mean, Iâm sure it isnât comfortable, butâŠâ
The silence stretched out as D-16 searched his processor for a good answer. It didnât hurt, per se, but it didnât feel good either. He shrugged a moment later, his movements sluggish.
âFeels kinda weird,â he said as he turned to face Orion. âLike some filled a cube of energon too full and then shook it around.â
Orion hissed in sympathy. âYeesh. Guess thatâs a no-go on smuggling cubes during work hours then.â
D-16âs hum of agreement quickly turned to a poor, petulant whine as Orionâs servo settled atop his gut. He could feel the sloshing fuel inside kicking back against the extra touch and barring it from moving further, but Orion seemed unbothered. If anything, he seemed to become even more concerned.
âFeels rough,â he said as he pulled his servo away. âThatâs from all the fuel?â
D-16 nodded.
Orionâs grimace deepened. He shifted a little further away on the bench, his servos now resting in his lap.
âGotcha,â he said.
There was little more for them to say, let alone do. All D-16 really wanted was to head back to the charging stations early, schedules be damned. He was stuffed and hurting, and it wasnât going to fix itself. UnlessâŠ
His optics, which had closed again as he returned to wallowing in misery, opened up with a faint hum of curiosity as Orion shoved the table in front of them aside and knelt between his knees. He feared the touch at first, as it was clear what Orion planned on doing, but his tense frame eased all the more once Orionâs gentle and skilled servos worked away at the worst of his bellyache.
It was kinda nice, he realized, if a little unexpected. It felt awkward sitting there with Orion on his knees and practically worshipping his belly, but it helped. Orionâs servos knew where to work, and they knew where to prod. They rubbed at tender spots and soothed the gurgles and groans, and he eased the spasms that appeared and helped settle the mess inside.
D-16 was a little surprised. He hadnât asked for it, but there Orion sat on bellyache duty, taking it like a professional.
âYou really are stuffed,â Orion said as he kneaded the taut mesh. âMustâve sucked having to work through this. Sorry about that, Dee.â
D-16 mumbled his comforts in response. His optics were back to sitting half-open, and his helm was resting against the wall. It was so awkward but so comfortable⊠it felt wrong, in a way. He hoped they wouldnât be caught.
Orionâs servo pressing firmly into his side elicited a sharp hiccup-belch from D-16, but the only apology he could muster was mumbled and weak. Orion snickered back, at least, so all was not lost. He was still busy working away at D-16âs belly, his efforts not yet finished.
It felt good. It felt so, so good, and it helped, too. Until, that isâŠ
âSo,â Orion said, his work paused as he glanced up at D-16. âI know now probably isnât the best time to be asking, but⊠Iâve got a couple cubes of the good stuff left and nowhere else to put them. You donât think, uhâŠâ
Slaggit, D-16 thought. He shouldâve known this was coming. He sat up with a groanâboth from his own lips and from his belly, which protested anything more than the soothing work Orion had startedâand held out an expectant servo.
âFine,â he said, âbut make it quick. Youâre gonna owe me one, Orion.â After a moment, he added, âand the collateral doesnât count.â
Orion smiled, big and beaming. He was already pulling out another cube for D-16 to drink, but once it was handed over, he went right back to rubbing the poor mechâs belly.
âDeal,â he said. âBelieve me, Dee. Itâs gonna be worth it. And next time?â
He paused, his servo patting the swollen belly beneath it. Next time, D-16âs mind miserably echoed.
âIâll make sure not to take home nearly as much.â
