Syntax Error
(AKA Miscommunication pt. 2)
Rodimus x Ratchet x Drift x Human Reader
Summary: Things had been going great in your little situationship polycule "it's complicated" relationship with Rodimus, Ratchet and Drift. But you haven't been...feeling well.
Word Count: 1,817
AN: NSFW themes and talk, and things get a little heated, but no outright smut. tagged valveplug just in case. Please feel free to leave comments and stuff, I enjoy feedback. Also, this is sorta the end of this one, just feels good as a 2 part series.
[PREV]
“It's…nice, being able to spend quiet time with you.”
Drift looked up from where he was doing a centering exercise, smiling softly over at Ratchet. “Yeah?”
“Mh. Away from any stupid bots, away from the others in our little family… Don't get me wrong, I care about them, but… I do enjoy spending time with you, just one on one, existing together…”
Drift's smile warmed, an adoring look in his optics…before a more mischievous look crept in. “You know…it really has been a while since it was just us. Our squishy little lover tries to give us space but I swear, it's almost as if when we have time to ourselves, some chaos or trouble happens. Maybe it would be nice to spend some…intimacy together?”
Ratchet lifted a brow, and a more heated look bloomed on his faceplates. “Oh yeah?”
“Mmhm~ We haven't played with our wire arrays in a while, I know you like it when I do…”
Ratchet let out a dry chuckle as Drift slowly stalked towards him, slowly laying back on the berth. He felt like a glitch-mouse being eyed up by nitrotiger, the way Drift's optics sharpened with desire and hunger. It didn't help when the speedster's talons flexed.
Drift felt more like a starved artist who finally found his muse. Like a solarplume who's petals finally got its first taste of UV.
Drift was on the larger bot in an instant, fluidly pinning the medic's thicker servos above his head. Dexterous hands smoothed the seams of the other's armor plating, ever so slightly dipping into the creases and making Ratchet squirm and sigh.
“Frag, Drift…”
Sharp denta went to neck cabling, lightly chewing
Those oh so nimble digits dug in a bit to one of the plating seams, gently tugging. With little effort, Drift pulled one of them away, revealing parts of Ratchet's mainframe. Reverently, he drags a claw, just baaarely catching, across the rubbery insulation of a particular cord. Ratchet exvents softly, sighing wistfully as Drift bit into his cabling more, making the medic groan.
“Maybe we should let our little third in on this sometime, you know how much they love to please-”
The door to Drift's habsuite hissed slightly as it slid open a crack, then yellow digits crammed their way into the small space before yanking the metal barrier open with an obnoxious screech.
“GUYS.”
Ratchet groaned in a different, bitter manner and rolled over, fussing with his paneling to close it as Drift sat up, huffing and trying to remain cool, as if he hadn't just had his cybernetic cock blocked.
“WE HAVE A PROBLEM. WE HAVE A PROBLEM.”
Drift vented. “Your aura is all sorts of chaotic, you need to calm down-”
“WE KNOCKED UP THE HUMAN.”
………The room was so quiet, even Ratchet could hear the electricity buzzing through Rodimus's circuits.
“You slagging moron- that's impossible." Ratchet finally snapped, the chill in the air oppressive. “Organics and Cybertronians don't mix.”
“What about-”
“That's not part of this iteration.”
“Right. STILL-”
“STILL NOTHING.” The medic growled, sitting up and finally getting his panels closed. “There isn't a single way for humans to become sparked, because they're ORGANIC and lack SPARKS. Not only that, our little partner isn't even able to get-”
“THEY HAD A POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST.”
Ratchet's mouth clamped shut and he stared at the captain, shocked. Drift shifted anxiously. “I…how do you know..?”
“I've seen enough human media. Two pink lines is positive.” Rodimus Prime stared at the other two mechs, his tanks churning and making him feel like he had swallowed energon that had long since gone off. “One of us sparked them, or got them human pregnant or- or something.”
“H..Human pregnancy tests give false positives all the time-”
“Ratchet.”
The old medic looked to his Conjux Endura… and for the first time noticed how panicked he looked. Drift looked up at him, optics wide and scared, as well as his voice.
“We should have… we should have been using contraceptives- what if it's not viable Ratty? What if… what if it…”
Rodimus's faceplates were stiff. Strained. “There's two of you and one of me, you're twice as likely to have knocked them up. It's gotta be yours’.”
“We ALL have overloaded in them- this doesn't make any sense!” Ratchet shook his head, hands up. “There's no way. You have to have misread the test-”
“IT SAYS ON THE STUPID TEST THAT TWO LINES IS POSITIVE. Look, you two are the best suited to-”
“Stop it! Both of you knock it off-!”
“I am too old to be a Sire!” Snapped Ratchet.
“I CAN'T BE ONE! LOOK AT ME, I'M A FRAGGING MESS! I CAN BARELY TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!” Rodimus shouted, panic in his voicebox tinging every word. “I can't, I just cant...!”
“SO YOU'RE SHOVING THIS OFF ONTO US JUST LIKE YOU DID WITH THEIR AFTERCARE FOR SO LONG.”
"SILENCE!!”
The medic and the captain paused as the swordsman took a few calming breaths, letting the air filter through his vents and breathing out panic.
“Okay… okay…” Drift looked between the other two. “We are not ditching the human to raise our- YES! OUR! our sparkling on their own. First and foremost, why…why hasn't our little earthling told us…?” He murmured, looking upset. Betrayed. Worried.
Rodimus reached over, gently putting a hand on his best friend's shoulder as his Conjux moved closer to be a supportive presence. Sparklings, Primus preserve them. Their population numbers were in shambles, he can't remember the last time had even SEEN one…
“Ehh, don't feel too bad, Drift.” The red and gold mech hummed. “I think they're having a bit of a rough go right now, plus I bet they just found out themselves.”
Ratchet looked over, chevron glinting against the calming lights in the shared hab-suite. “They still aren't feeling good?” The prime shook his head in response.
“Nah, it's actually how I found out. Our little squishy sweetie- Don't. Do not tell them I called them that, it just fully registered what I said and I want to purge.” Rodimus shuddered dramatically, trying to cut the tension. “Anyways. I went to check up on them since they've been feeling like slag. I make a holo-form, go in to see if they need anything and they're passed out cold. So I just… I don't know, their hab was a mess and…”
Drift had a small, creeping smirk on his face. “You started cleaning their room? When yours looks like that?”
“Hey. Hey. It was hard to focus with so much trash and stuff piled up. I didn't clean up a ton just-” The mech was getting more and more flustered. “Just! Shut up!”
“Rodimus. Please.”
At Ratchet's grumbled pleading, the captain sighed and focused again…after shoving Drift a bit. “ANY! WAYS! So I kinda sorta picked up some stuff. They had those uh… thin face cloths on their night stand, those ones the humans in movies use when they cry and they get all teary, and their hydration bottle was empty. So I went to their bathroom and it. Reeked. Of that acrid smell that their bile leaves behind. Like that time I spun them so fast in their chair they purged on the command floor-”
“Primus sakes…”
“It's relevant!! Morning sickness is a big thing with human pregnancies in movies! So I scented that and ew, and then I started filling their little hydration bottle in the sink for them and then I noticed this test! It was sitting on its packaging on the sink!” With that, the mech opened a subspace panel and held up a teeny, tiny plastic blue square, so small that Drift thought it was dirt or something else. He passed it over to Ratchet when he made a motion for it. “They uh. Eliminate on these so I rinsed it off, so the lines are a little smudged, but there WAS two lines.”
“They must have really tired themself out…” Drift murmured, crossing his arms in a way that masked he was hugging himself. “Poor little thing, I bet they'd been feeling the symptoms and took the test on a whim, and then cried themself to sleep…” His spark ached at the thought of them, scared and upset with the reality crashing down on them, wailing and sobbing into their soft bedding until they tuckered themselves out…
“They don't know we know.”
“We… should we let them come to us? I don't want them to feel they are all alone in this, worse yet to do something drastic…”
“They won't do that, I'm sure right now they're just scared and worried. They'll come to us. Have faith in them.” Rodimus murmured.
“I… You're right. I should do a wellness prayer to see if it can help ease their-”
“Drift.”
Said mech looked up, finials shifting a bit. He spotted his lover, stormy expression on his faceplates, glaring at the little test in his servos. The medic then glanced up, seething rage wavering through his field as he glared at Rodimus, overpowering the anxiety and panic that had been lacing through their own just moments before. “Ratch…?”
“Drift, I'm going to beat him, put him back together, then beat him again in the desperate hopes it'll knock some sense into his processor.”
“WOAH, HEY WHAT-”
“Ratchet, please, it's not Rodimus's fault, we were all-”
“YOU FRAGGING MORON. YOU BARGE IN, SCARE DRIFT HALF TO OFFLINING, MAKE ME QUESTION EVERYTHING I KNEW AS A MEDIC-”
“IT'S POSITIVE!”
“IT'S A PRIMUS DAMNED INFLUENZA TEST.” Ratchet snarled, glaring at Rodimus. “YOU DIDN'T READ THE PACKAGING AT ALL THAT IT WAS SITTING ON? I GAVE THEM THIS DAYS AGO!”
The atmosphere of the room was sucked out, replaced with an entirely different feeling.
“We… We aren't Sires?” Rodimus whispered, relief flooding through his systems. His head whipped over to Drift, who was bracing against his knee joints and mumbling a mantra of “thank you Primus” over and over. A small laugh escaped his vocoder, before he covered his face.
“No!! I-” He sucked through his denta, letting out a vent. Two. Three. “No. No, we aren't. They aren't a Carrier, humans and Cybertronians can't crossbreed, and YOU. Are leaving after making me feel like I aged 50 thousand years in five kliks. Bastard.”
Ratchet watched as Rodimus and Drift hugged each other tightly with relief. Before a certain look crossed the captain's faceplates.
“Sooo… wireplay, huh? You two want me to stick around and-”
“Rodimus.”
“Yeah?”
“Get out.” Drift grumbled for him, letting go and gently pushing the other mech away. Rodimus laughed a little more, before taking a few steps away.
“Fiiine, fine. I'll go, ah, check on the human.”
“You two are a stupid match made in stupid heaven.” Ratchet groused as the mech left, pulling Drift close. Their door wasn't closing right after Rodimus had wrenched it open.