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He hadn’t been expecting it to affect him this much.
Drift, Perceptor, and Brainstorm had been out for a night at Swerves—a date night. They’d officially bonded with Brainstorm, the two of them, and since they were all off shift they decided to celebrate. Things had been going well! They deserved a night to relax, didn’t they?
They’d been at a booth in the side-middle of the room, chatting about. Perceptor and Drift were listening as Brainstorm talked about a new project he’d been working on, a side project—something for swerve, ironically. It was a simple machine that made preparing drinks more…fast paced. Swerve had commissioned it, the teal mech had mentioned, and he spoke about it as animatedly as he did every other project he worked on. The two of them listened contentedly and asked questions, the usual. At the moment, Perceptor was asking about the approach he was taking to build it and requested to see the blueprints. He’d always been so in tune with the things Brainstorm made—not that Drift wasn’t! He listened and interacted the best he could, but he wasn’t a scientist. Sometimes their conversations consisted of things too complex for him to bud into, and he was fine with that.
That wasn’t the problem—well—there wasn’t a problem, but…it was distracting. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it.
The problem was that Brainstorm had…fangs. Apparently, this was either common knowledge, or he was way more focused on it than anyone else was. They weren’t as big as his own, but that didn’t take away from the effect they had. They were rounded out, yet still sharp; sharp enough to pierce. Just slightly. They peeked through when Brainstorm smiled, and Drift just couldn’t stop staring at them. He knew that most fliers (and decepticons) had them, but he’d only ever seen the larger, more prominent ones—not any like Brainstorm had. They were so…cute. And hot—that too. Definitely hot. It made Drift wonder how they’d feel, perhaps against his jugular.
There was something wrong with him.
He’d been discreet enough that Brainstorm nor Perceptor had noticed his staring, and if they had, they said nothing. He was grateful for that, in all honesty. It meant he didn’t have to talk about it—plus, what exactly would he even say? ‘Oh yeah, I’m turned on by your teeth. Bite me?’—No! They’d just been bonded. However, he does wonder if Perceptor ever felt the same way about Drift’s fangs when they first got together, and if he had any…opinions on Brainstorm’s.
His only option was to simply ask, it seemed. Which would prove to be a challenge, since it meant getting Perceptor alone. Without Brainstorm. Their conjunx. Or—he could just be normal about it and talk to Brainstorm. He had wondered if perhaps they’d been a mod; many MTOs modded themselves after the war. It was a very common practice, and Drift also knew that Brainstorm had plenty of mods himself—so…it wouldn’t hurt to ask. It didn’t matter either way, of course, he just…wanted to know more. That’s all. Nothing weird, totally normal stuff. Uh-huh.
He was screwed.
—
Drift was scheming. He’d figured out a way to—hypothetically—get Perceptor alone.
He may or may not have talked to Rodimus, who then talked to Ultra Magnus (after coming up with a ‘reasonable’ excuse that Magnus would actually look into—one he’d approve of—courtesy of Drift), about scheduling Brainstorm for a longer shift than Perceptor. It had been relatively easy, all it took was a small fib about the quantum engines. He felt bad about it, yes, but it had to be done. And yeah—Magnus preferred Perceptor do the check-ins, but somehow Rodimus had figured out how to convince him to let Brainstorm do them instead. Drift hadn’t asked any questions, he was simply glad it was done. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d wanted to know any of the details, actually, so it was probably for the best. He’d be informed about them later, most likely, if Rodimus being—well—Rodimus was anything to go by. He had better things to think about, anyway.
If he remembered correctly, Brainstorm should have left for his shift…maybe 10 minutes ago. His window of time had opened, and he’d needed to be quick. It wouldn’t take Brainstorm long—it never did—so he’d need to make the most of the time he had. He rushed to Brainstorm and Perceptor’s lab, knowing Perceptor would still be there, and snuck in. Perceptor was—as expected—hunched over a datapad, scribbling away; focused. He did feel a bit bad, disrupting him and all, but this was simply more important. Maybe not. But…Perceptor was usually willing to make time. It would be fine.
Perceptor noticed him almost immediately, field warming and a small—almost unnoticeable—grin plastered itself upon his faceplates. Drift smiled back at him, leaning down to give him a peck on the cheek.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against his conjunx’ shoulder, chin resting on the sniper's scope, “hello there,” Perceptor responded, tilting his head and letting out a small laugh. Drift almost forgot why he was there, if he was being honest. His laugh was so pretty, and so was his smile, he could probably watch and listen to him for—ah, anyways—he was on a mission! Can’t get distracted now, not when he had such a short amount of time.
Perceptor beat him to the punch, “You have something on your mind. Has something happened?” He asked, turning back to the datapad he had previously been focused on. Drift tensed, processor attempting to conjure up some way of explaining his predicament—explaining it in a way that wasn’t humiliating. He huffed, looking away, “It’s—well. Uhm, nothings…wrong, it’s just that…” He groaned, face flushed and finials pinned back, “I need to…ask something. About Brainstorm.” He rushed out, glancing back at Perceptor hopefully. His conjunx stared at him for a moment before sighing and pulling out a chair. Drift did the same, the two of them sitting down. He looked down at his pedes, “It’s nothing serious! I was just—I’ve noticed it. I guess I just wondered if…” he struggled with his words. Perceptor leaned forward in his seat, bringing a servo up to stroke Drift’s cheek. He pressed a small kiss to his conjunx’ jaw before leaning back and pressing their forehelms together, “I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to. You can talk to me,” he pressed their lips together, and Drift instantly melted. He thought about just scrapping his original plan—in order to spend this free time they now had doing much better things, like kissing, instead of embarrassingly talking about his strange infatuation with their other partners teeth. Unfortunately, Perceptor pulled away, and he was forced back into reality. He already went through the trouble, anyway.
Drift swallowed, “Uh. Has…has he always had fangs? Brainstorm, I mean. Well—of course I mean Brainstorm, but…I just,” he spoke quietly, relaxing slightly as Perceptor stroked his face with his thumb. Drift sighed, “They’re very different. I know it may not—it might not mean much to you, you’ve never been a con’, and I know you haven’t really been around many fliers. Aside from maybe the arielbots and—I dunno, Skyfire? But it was kind of…it was a thing, you know? For us. A sign of beauty, dominance, what you’d expect,” Drift bit his lip, breath shaky. Perceptor just hummed, confirming that he was still listening, and the stroking of his face didn’t falter. “All fliers have them. Or—most of them do. I never understood why, I still don’t. I guess it just wasn’t something I’d ever consider Brainstorm having. And surely they aren’t a mod because they’re so..small, and round, and—“ he covered his face with his servos, whimpering in embarrassment.
“I like them. A lot. They’re very…they interest me. I don’t know if they’re a mod, or if he was constructed with them or…it doesn’t matter, I just—They’re so distracting, and…” He felt foolish, getting so worked up over this. It was weird, and surely Perceptor saw this because he wasn’t saying anything—
until he heard a small snicker. And then the snicker turned into a giggle, and then a full-on laugh. It was quite high in pitch, too high to be…Perceptor. Frag.
He’d run out of time.
He felt a rush of heat wash over him and bit back the urge to groan, shutting his optics tightly. He felt Brainstorm pressing against his back, the giggles dying down as he nuzzled the side of Drift's helm with his nose. Drift felt as if he were about to die, and opened his optics to see Perceptor smiling softly at him, clearly amused. “Ah. Hello, Brainstorm. Nice of you to finally join us.” Perceptor said calmly, addressing their partner, and Drift almost jolted once he’d connected the dots. But he said!—
“Apologies, my love. I…admit it was wrong of me to lie, but…well. You aren’t exactly subtle. I knew what this was about almost as soon as you walked in,” the red mech explained, “I wasn’t being entirely deceitful, however, I didn’t disclose anything. I just told him you were here and I presume he figured it out himself.” Perceptor finished, glancing up at Brainstorm, who was still leaning over Drift. He couldn’t believe this.
“Sooo…do you—“ “How much did you hear?” Drift snapped, cutting Brainstorm off. He felt very hot, and irritated, shooting Brainstorm a glare. Perceptor looked between the two of them and sighed, pinching his nose bridge. “..Enough. Enough to know most of what you were saying.” Brainstorm responded, nervous, now. Drift almost felt bad, if it weren’t for the burn of humiliation running over his entire frame. Perceptor stood, humming and pressing a kiss to Drift’s helm. He turned to Brainstorm, tapping his mask and waiting for it to fall before tilting his head and giving him a small kiss before backing away and heading over towards the lab’s exit. “I will allow both of you to discuss this yourselves. If I am needed, I will be in the habsuite.” He said, nodding towards the pair before leaving, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of them alone, in the quiet.
Brainstorm set his mask down on the table next to him, taking the seat Perceptor previously occupied. His wings fluttered anxiously, and Drift couldn’t help but watch as he chewed on his lip. He was just so…cute…It wasn’t fair. The two of them sat in silence for a little while longer before Brainstorm sighed shakily, looking up at Drift, “Did—…you like them, right? The fangs? That’s what you meant?” He asked. Brainstorm was leaning in, just slightly, and Drift couldn’t help but lean in with him. He shuddered, swallowing before responding, “…Yeah. Yeah, they’re—I like them. A lot…I thought that was clear.” Brainstorm grinned and huffed in amusement, “It was. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
The swordsmech sighed, interlocking his and Brainstorm’s servos and resting his helm against the jet's shoulder. He felt Braintorm nuzzle one of his finials, relaxing almost instantly. He’d wanted to be mad, be more upset than he was, but that was quite difficult to do when his partner was so good at making him forget what he was even upset about in the first place. Clever little mouth of his, Drift thought, it was a shame he wasn’t kissing it.
Brainstorm hummed, nervousness flooding right back into his field, “Do you wanna…uh, well I thought maybe you’d…” Drift sat up, looking Brainstorm in the optic. His wings drooped as he looked off to the side, glancing everywhere but at Drift. He was quick to grab Brainstorm’s chin and force his attention back, “Maybe I’d…what?”
Brainstorm swallowed hard, leaning in, their faces almost touching, “…Maybe you’d…wanna see,” Drift could feel Brainstorm’s vents ghosting over his face, “Up close.”
Drift couldn’t name another time where Brainstorm had kissed him with such voracity, such hunger. It had caught him off guard, and as soon as Brainstorm’s fangs grazed over his bottom lip he felt himself slipping. Brainstorm had gotten up at some point, it appeared, and was actively crawling into Drift’s lap. He worried for a minute that they’d end up falling out of the chair, but dismissed the thought quickly as he felt a tongue slipping in between his lips and into his mouth.
Drift’s servos shot to Brainstorm’s hips as he kissed back in an attempt to match his partner's eager movements. They bit at each other's lips, roughly grabbing at one another’s plating while they moaned into each other's mouths. It was like this for a good couple of minutes, the kissing, until Brainstorm finally pulled back. The two of them sat there, panting and lovingly rubbing their faces together; noses bumping, cheeks pressed together, resting their forehelms against one another, etc. It wasn’t new, they did it often, but it never failed to make Drift feel…fuzzy. Warm? He couldn’t focus. Brainstorm was kissing him again, and all of his thoughts were tuned in on the feeling of Brainstorm’s mouth traveling low, and low, and low, until he finally settled against Drift’s throat and bit. He couldn’t stop himself from whining.
He felt Brainstorm laugh against him, “Have you thought about this before? I feel like you have.” Brainstorm said, servos stroking his chest. Drift’s vents stuttered, “Yes—yes, I..I have. It’s…it’s been on my mind a lot recently. You’re very, ah—distracting. In a good way.” He rambled, sighing when Brainstorm came up to kiss him again, relaxing against his mouth.
Brainstorm pulled away again and grabbed one of Drift’s servos, bringing it up to rest it against his face, “Do you wanna touch them?” He asked, smirking. Drift nodded, rubbing his thumb over Brainstorm’s bottom lip. Brainstorm opened his mouth, just enough for Drift to slip his thumb inside. He felt the jet bite down slightly, letting out a tiny noise at the pressure and resisting the urge to pull out. He gulped and shifted his servo to insert more digits into Brainstorm’s mouth, tracing over the sharp edge of his fangs and pressing down, wanting to test the strength; see how much it would take to break metal. Brainstorm winced, and Drift pulled back almost immediately. “Ah—sorry. Sorry, are you okay?” He was relieved when Brainstorm giggled and looked up at him, “I’m fine, it’s okay. Just…they’re sensitive, I guess. Be more gentle next time,” he answered, kissing Drift’s cheek.
Drift melted, thriving under the attention of his partner. He very much liked it when Brainstorm kissed him, Perceptor too—both of them. He depended a lot on the touch of his partners, so did Brainstorm, it was why they clicked so fast. Perceptor was decently affectionate; always holding Drift’s hand, allowing himself to be cuddled up against, giving the occasional brush of plating as he walked past, etc. It was nice, but Perceptor did have his limits, and that was perfectly fine—Drift didn’t mind it at all, but he was very touchy. Sometimes he needed to be touched, or touch someone, and Brainstorm was always open to it. He loved petting Brainstorm’s wings, stroking up and down his sides, you name it. They both liked the touch, it worked out fine for the trio. Perceptor didn’t get overwhelmed with affection when he didn’t want it, and both Drift and Brainstorm had a way of getting the amount of affection they needed. It was an almost perfect arrangement.
He felt Brainstorm bite down on his cheek and jerked. It wasn’t a hard bite, he was very gentle, but it was enough to bring him back to reality. “Hm. Had your fill? I’m sure Perceptor is getting bored all alone in the hab…” Brainstorm commented, an innuendo very much present in his voice. Drift quite liked where this was going, and gripped onto Brainstorm’s thighs; picking him up and flipping them around so that the jet was now half-laying in the chair. Brainstorm gasped, arms shooting up and around Drift’s neck for stability.
Drift chuckled, stroking up and down Brainstorm’s side with one servo while petting his wings with the other, listening in delight as his lover moaned. The servo stroking his side rested over Brainstorm’s side-port, circling it with his index and middle finger, “Perceptor can wait a bit longer,” he popped open his own port, using his servo to pull out his cable and bring it down towards Brainstorm’s—now open—interface port. Brainstorm gasped, smiling mischievously as he quickly removed his own cable and brought it toward Drift’s port. “Mmmh, can’t argue with that,”
They plugged in, lips crashing together, and suddenly everything around them faded into nothing.
—
Perceptor was sitting on the berth, reading something on a datapad when the pair of them arrived back at the habsuite. They had very obvious paint transfers scattered all over each other’s frames, specifically around their hip and waist plating. Perceptor looked up from his datapad for a moment, face blank, before looking back, “I feel it is safe to assume the two of you…worked things out.” He said, smirking.
Brainstorm climbed into the berth beside Perceptor, still somewhat breathless and very obviously tired, curling up against his side and resting his face in his neck, humming. Perceptor handed the datapad to Drift, who dropped it down on the table, taking a seat on a chair next to the berth. He watched as Perceptor wrapped his arms around Brainstorm, kissing his helm and stroking his wings and thigh, which was thrown over him. Brainstorm liked to rest as much of his frame over his partners as he could, they’d noted when they first started dating him. It was cute, how much he wanted to be touched—and who were they to deny their partner?
Brainstorm trilled happily at the attention, servo coming up to fidget with the sniper's scope. Drift smiled and got up, crawling onto the berth and resting on Perceptor’s other side, grabbing the servo resting on Brainstorm’s thigh and bringing it up to his mouth, kissing each joint. “We missed you,” he muttered, kissing up Perceptor’s arm until reaching his shoulder, leaning up and pressing a tiny kiss to his cheek. The microscope turned his helm, smiling at the swordsmech and pulling him down for a proper kiss. Drift grinned, humming calmly against his conjunx’ lips. They pulled back to find Brainstorm watching them in awe, optics full of want and admiration. Perceptor nudged him up, cupping his face in his servos and pressing his lips to Brainstorm’s, thumbs rubbing at his cheek cables. The jet made a noise, almost akin to a squeal, and relaxed as Drift pet his helm. Perceptor pulled back and allowed Brainstorm to rest himself back against his chest, the teal mech slowly drifting off, twitching occasionally.
The two of them watched him for a moment, stroking his frame and murmuring sweet nothings into his audial. He’d eventually fallen entirely into recharge, sleeping soundly against Perceptor. Drift let his gaze wander to the microscope's face, nudging him with his nose, and Perceptor turned his helm. He pressed a gentle kiss to the swordsmech’s lips, “Did the two of you talk at all, or did you guys frag as soon as I left the room?” He questioned. Drift blushed and glanced away, embarrassed, “We…we talked. Most of it was just…well. You know.” He relaxed, falling against the pillows. Perceptor sighed, “At least you talked about it. I was wondering when it would come up—as I said, you are not as subtle as you think you are.” Drift shrugged, smiling and resting his optics.
Something shifted beside him, and not even a moment later he felt pressure against his side. He blinked his optics open and looked down to find Brainstorm lying lax against him, and raised his helm to meet Perceptor’s gaze, “My arm was beginning to fall asleep,” he explained, leaning down and kissing the jet's shoulder, stroking his wing, then lying down and wrapping his arms around Brainstorm’s waist. Brainstorm always liked to be surrounded, and despite his wings making things a bit complicated, they made it work.
They were silent for a moment, then, “He likes yours, too,” Drift perked up, looking over Brainstorm’s shoulder, “huh?”
“Your fangs. He’s quite fond of them, Brainstorm is. He’s talked to me about it. I also find them…intriguing. I thought I would mention it,” He sounded almost flustered, but maintained eye contact with Drift. He hummed, lying back down and pressing closer to Brainstorm. “..Oh. Huh.”
They got quiet again, winding down for recharge. Drift felt very warm, a bit dizzy. Perhaps he’d been more affected by interfacing than he’d expected…
“I love you, Drift.” He heard Perceptor say quietly, and he smiled to himself.
“…Love you too, Percy.”