Chapter Text
The doors closed behind them and Ratchet’s spark clenched in time with the sound. Perceptor, his Perceptor was lost to him. He wanted to scream, to cry to rage, at the situation they were forced into damn family obligations, damn coding, damn social strictures, damn everything.
Ratchet slowly sat on the bed behind him. The bed they’d been entwined in not moments ago. The room still held the weight of those moments, and it all suddenly felt too much. Ratchet wanted out of here, quickly. He needed a drink, and there wouldn't be enough high grade in Perceptor’s apartment to drown the sorrow filling his spark.
Maccadam's was always busy, more so on nights like tonight, at the end of the work week on a holiday weekend. The tables were scarce, and the corners were filled. Ratchet knew if he wanted he wouldn't be paying for any of his drinks. If he were interested, and considering the replay of Perceptor’s apartment wouldn't leave his mind he might just be, Ratchet wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight either.
The first drink he ordered for himself, Nightmare Fuel, a double, straight up. He turned it up and opened his throat. A handy trick he’d learned for more than one reason. Ratchet wave at one of the two mechas behind the bar. A beautiful, fast frame with a pleasant smile, a sparkling visor, and sleek looking black and white speedster frame. “Hey there, pretty thing. Can I do you for?”
“Another, make it stronger this time if you can.” Ratchet pushed his empty glass across the bar without meeting the other mech’s gaze. He was too happy for Ratchet’s taste. A black hand grazed his clasping sensitive fingers tight. “Look. I know people. A perk of the job. And I don’t know what’s got you down tonight, but you aren’t going to find the answer at the bottom of a glass.”
Ratchet pulled his hand free. “I didn’t ask to be psychoanalyzed, I asked for a drink.”
“Okay okay, fine.” The speedster groused with a smirk. He flipped bottles over his shoulders, rolled them down his arms only to flip his wrist and toss them in the air again. When he sat the drink in front of Ratchet, he twirled his hand in front of his helm as he dipped into a bow.
“I only asked for a drink, not paying for a show.” Ratchet reached for his drink tossing the flashing fake energon cube in it to the side. Dark fingers darted out taking hold of his hand. “You’re far too pretty to be this upset. I don’t know who did you wrong, but believe me beautiful it was their loss.” The speedster stroked his hand before he landed down to place a lingering open mouth kiss on the palm.
Ratchet’s breath caught for a moment. The mech released his hand and flashed him a wink, “My time to entertain the masses. Don’t leave before I get your name or I’ll forever be calling you Beautiful in my memories forever, yeah?” Ratchet nodded as he pulled his tingling hand to his chest. He watched with rapt attention as the mech made his way through the crowd to the small stage at the front of the bar. Ratchet wasn’t a music aficionado this mech was entrancing to watch perform. His voice didn’t have to range of the classically trained performers in the Towers or Great Halls, but it was soothing when the melody called for it. It was energetic when the beat was lively. And made his spark ache when is sang of lost loves. Something Ratchet firmly pushed from his mind.
Ratchet was thoroughly enraptured by the time the performer made his way back to where Ratchet still sat. “You waited.” The mech’s smile was dazzling, and Ratchet found himself kissing the mech before he realized he’d moved. It must have been something the other mech wanted as well because he kissed back just as fervently. Though smaller he was strong for his frame type, maneuvering Ratchet to a store room not far from where they’d sat. Ratchet didn’t want to think about how often the other mech had done this if he could accomplish it with interruptions to their kisses.
Ratchet moaned as the smaller mech sucked hard on one of his throat cables. “Medics always make the best noises.” He purred in Ratchet’s audial. Ratchet briefly wondered how many medics this mech had been with that he knew that, but those thoughts were chased from his mind by ones that told him the mech had obviously been with enough medics to know exactly where to touch him. “Yeah pretty, be as loud as you want in here. No one outside can hear us, and I love hearing you.” Ratchet let himself be swept away by sensation carried by hands and very talented tongue. He was two overloads gone before the mech brought him down slowly from his last mind-bending trip into ecstasy.
“I could do that to you all night. And will if you’ll wait for me to finish my shift. Right now the boss is screaming for me to get back out there and be social.” Another breath stealing kiss and the mech was helping Ratchet to sit his stool. Both shared a knowing smile as Ratchet shifted his in his seat to avoid sending any more stimulation through his still sensitive body. Whenever he could the black and white mech, Ratchet really needed to get that mech’s name, would sneak Ratchet something tasty from the bar, snacks, drinks, his favorite things the kisses. He was good at it and with them.
It was a turning out to be a fun night until Ratchet heard a familiar voice behind his shoulder. “I thought I’d find you here, Ratchet.”