Chapter Text
Drift knew Rodimus better than most people. He understood incredibly well that Rodimus was stubborn, and often abrasive. Some may have described him as annoying. Drift wouldn’t say anything like that about his amica, not in a million years… but he could understand where they were coming from.
It wasn’t as if Rodimus was unfixable!! He was just… Rodimus… y. He was frequently selfless- when he wasn’t demanding money or stroking his own ego. He was deeply kind- when he wasn’t annoyed or bored. He was incredibly brave- and exceptionally stupid. Every one of Rodimus’ best traits could always be balanced out by one of his worst, but hey, it wasn’t such a bad thing to be balanced! That was very sought after, as far as personality traits went, certainly.
…
Okay so MAYBE, just maybe, Rodimus could use an attitude adjustment. And Drift wasn’t just saying that because Rodimus had paid for something stupid for the Rodpod with his money again… without telling him. Drift was incredibly forgiving, something that small wouldn’t get to him at all.
Rodimus didn’t need a terribly drastic shove or anything, just a little bit of a nudge! Drift had needed an attitude adjustment once too, and it had made him a much better, happier, more even tempered mech. The fact that his attitude adjustment had come from hitting rock bottom and then clawing his way out was neither here nor there. Drift was certain that Rodimus wouldn’t need that big of an adjustment. He just needed a little positive reinforcement! Drift was great at positivity.
It just so happened that Drift had exactly the tool for the job: a topical code patch. He’d picked it up ages ago, from some open air market. He was originally looking for something to play a prank on Ratchet, something that’d make his vocalizer three pitches too high, or make it make animal sounds. He’d actually ended up leaving with a ‘reeducation’ patch, with a programmable code housed inside to offer encouragement for preferred behaviour and discouragement for the alternative.
And so, there it sat on his desk. It was a little square of green plastic with some unobtrusive little adhesive claws around its edge, printed with a crudely drawn happy face on its surface. He’d double(and triple) checked for viruses and found it was clean, and he’d already programmed it. He felt it was pretty user friendly, even. He’d just inputted [if- Make Choices (Type: Efficient, Considerate, Kind, Tactically Sound), Complete Ordered Tasks(in timely manner), Receive Verbal Compliment = Receive Reward] and [if- Make Choices (Type: Inefficient, Selfish, Rude, Unwise), Failure/Refusal to Complete Ordered Tasks(in timely manner), Receive Verbal Reprimand = Receive Punishment]. The little chip had blinked its indicator LEDs that the patch was primed.
Drift drummed his digits on the desk. Okay. Pros and cons. The cons were that the patch was almost certainly not EDA approved, he’d found it at a novelty topical patch stall alongside other such ill advised patches as ‘immediately lose control of your legs’ and ‘gives your optic field a pink flower themed filter’.
The Pros were that Drift was CERTAIN this was what Rodimus needed to change his outlook. Even just a little bit of positive reward for doing the right thing always made Rodimus happy, he just needed a nudge to understand that ‘doing the right thing’ didn’t always mean heroically saving an entire moon from destruction, and sometimes it meant handing in his datapads on time.
Sufficiently convinced of his idea, Drift carefully picked up the patch in its casing and tucked it away into his subspace. He took a deep, relaxing vent, and began to march towards the bridge.
*
It was unsurprising, if disappointing, to find Rodimus on the bridge, not in his seat, but instead fragging around with one of Tailgate’s confiscated hoverboards. All the usual suspects were working at their stations, save Ultra Magnus, who seemed to graciously relax as Drift entered to relieve him of duty.
“Drift! Heyyy, check it out!” Rodimus chirped jovially, waving at him as he steadied himself on the board and attempted a kickflip. Unsurprisingly, the board spun out from under him, catching his pede as he stumbled over himself. He didn’t fall over, surprisingly, but he did stumble a bit, awkwardly snatching up the board and tucking it under his arm. “I meant to do that- anyway! What’s up?”
Drift laughed softly, shaking his helm. Oh Roddy. It was really hard to stay mad at him, though Drift suspected he might be the only bot on board that thought that. “Oh nothing, just, y’know… showing up for my shift.”
“Cool.” Rodimus grinned at him, trotting up closer to him. “Oh, take care Mags!” He called, reaching a servo up to wave as Ultra Magnus vacated the bridge. Drift casually reached into his subspace while the other mech was distracted and popped the topical patch out of its case. By the time Rodimus had turned back to face him, he’d tucked the patch claw side up in his palm and hid his servo behind his back.
Drift smiled warmly at him. “Anything of note happen while I was off shift?” He asked.
Rodimus scratched at his jaw, brow furrowing a bit in thought. “Uhhhh…. Not that I can think of- Oh! Right, yeah, we’re approaching an asteroid field in a couple hours!” Rodimus lit up as he remembered, slinging an arm around Drift’s back. “So I was thinking…”
Drift brought his servo up carefully underneath Rodimus’ spoiler, waiting for the exact right moment. “Uhuh?”
“You… me… Meteor surfing.” Rodimus paused for effect, grin broadening out as if it were the best idea he’d ever had. “Whaddaya think!?”
Drift decisively pressed the topical patch down onto Rodimus’ plating, crossing the digits on his other servo in a silent prayer that it wasn’t a dud. “Hmmm…” Drift thought for a moment, a bloom of guilt in his chassis as he grimaced. “Don’t uh… don’t you think it's a bit dangerous?”
“What, meteor surfing?” Rodimus cocked his head in confusion. “We’ve done it before like a million times, what’s so dangerous about meteor surfing?”
Drift sighed. “For the ship?”
Rodimus rolled his optics, releasing Drift from his friendly side hug and waving a dismissive servo at him. “Pfft, whatever, it’s handled worse than a couple- Ah-!” Rodimus jolted suddenly, then froze.
Slag. Drift played it cool, folding his arms over his chassis casually and offering Rodimus an inquisitive, yet not knowing look.
“... What was that?” Rodimus mumbled, almost to himself before turning to look Driftin the optics. “Did you say something?”
Drift clamped down on his own field. “Hm?” He hummed in blithe concern.
“... Drift ?” Rodimus urged, brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong?” Drift cocked his head at him and offered a patient smile. He watched Rodimus fumble for words, opening and closing his intake. He failed to surpass the wall of boring, conversational politeness Drift had thrown up at him, opting to shake his helm and sigh. Nice, crisis averted.
“... I’m gonna sit down now.” Rodimus decided, narrowing his eyes briefly at Drift before turning and doing exactly that.
“Good idea, Captain.” Drift smiled, shuffling a little closer to the captain’s chair. He noted Rodimus’ sudden shudder at his words, once again flicking his optics to stare confusedly at his SIC. Drift kept up his polite smile and stood jovially next to the chair, offering Rodimus a little nod as he finally settled into his seat.
Rodimus shook his head again, letting out a disappointed breath and settling in.
Drift allowed himself a pang of pride. He was sure in an hour or so, Rodimus would be happily agreeing to change the ship’s course out of harm’s way.
*
Rodimus was… mostly certain he wasn’t going crazy. It must have been Drift that was, though. He still couldn’t believe that his amica wasn’t up for meteor surfing. That was like Drift’s… fifth favourite thing! Right after Ratchet, and Him, and Swords, and Spiritualism. It was disappointing, sure, but Drift had been painfully responsible lately, so he guessed this had something to do with that.
Harder to rationalize in his processor was the fact he swore that Drift had shocked him a few klicks ago. He also swore Drift had said something like ‘So close! Try again, Rodimus’ when he’d done it too, which was really fragging weird. He hadn’t acknowledged it when pressed.
Weirder still was when he’d, first, complimented him on his idea to sit down, and then, apparently said ‘Nice Going! Keep it up!’. For some reason, him saying that had made Rodimus suddenly warm and fuzzy for a second. He’d, again, looked at drift, trying to show his confusion, and gotten nothing back.
So Rodimus wasn’t sure if it was him going insane, or if it was Drift. He settled into his seat, wriggling to get comfortable and leaning back against the back of the seat. The sea of stars and planets stretched ahead of them. The infinite beauty of open space was getting old to look at with no giant rocks flying past. He allowed himself a giddy smile at the thought of meteor surfing. Drift hadn’t been up for the idea, but Rodimus was sure he’d be able to convince him before they made it to the asteroid field.
He was beginning to zone out into his fantasies of meteor surfing when, again, he felt a sudden bolt of pain zap into his frame, lighting up his tactile sensors all at once for the briefest of moments. He glanced around when again, he heard Drift speak.
[A good captain pays attention!]
Rodimus blinked. He was certain that voice had come from Drift, but it sounded even more like it was inside of his processor. Had he really lost it? Was Drift astral projecting into his brain? No. That didn’t sound right. Rodimus chanced one more glance at Drift. His amica was apparently busy gazing out the observation window at the stars.
Rodimus sighed a bit and leaned back even more into his chair. He leaned his chin into his servo, pensively squinting out the observation window. If he REALLY looked he could just barely see the beginnings of the asteroid field coming into view, or at least, he could see the planet it was surrounding.
Rodimus bounced his leg impatiently. He checked his chronometer and cursed internally. He still had like 2 thirds of his shift left. He was sure even if Drift didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t mind… say… keeping an eye on things while he did some light meteor surfing. He usually didn’t have problems with that anyway.
He reset his vocalizer, turning casually to Drift to ask him. “Say, Drift-?” Rodimus only got 2 words deep into his request when he felt another buzz of electricity jolt through his frame. He grit his teeth, biting back a yelp of pain.
[So close! Try again, Rodimus!]
“Hm?” Drift hummed, turning to face his amica with a patient smile.
“... Uh…” Rodimus started, manually resetting his optics as he tried to process what the hell was going on. “... You um… You really didn’t feel like meteor surfing?” Rodimus tried, bracing himself for another shock.
Drift seemed to think for a moment, his brow ridges coming together sympathetically. “Oh… Listen, you know I love meteor surfing with you… but it’s just a little irresponsible to do it at the risk of damaging the ship, don’t you think?”
Rodimus couldn’t fully tell, but it seemed like Drift was taking a tone with him. It wasn’t exactly mean, but it sounded kind of… chiding. It reminded Rodimus of being taught something. The thought made his plating itch. “... Um… We could go under the field by a bit, and then you and I could-” Rodimus started. He tensed, his digits tightening around the arm of the captain’s chair as another shock hit.
[So close! Try again, Rodimus!]
Rodimus grit his dentas. “I mean , maybe… We could wait to go… meteor surfing… somewhere safer?” Rodimus ground out. His optics flickered a bit as a wash of tingling pleasure came over his frame. He covered up the weak sigh of enjoyment he gave with a cough.
[Very good! Keep it up!]
Drift beamed at him, tilting his head fondly. “I think that sounds like a great plan, Roddy.”
Rodimus’ body lit up again, a shudder running up from his pedes to the tips of his finials. He made an active effort to keep his vocalizer from producing any undignified noises, clamping his intake shut tightly and readjusting himself in his seat.
[Nice one! Good job, Rodimus!]
“Pff- yeah… ‘course it is. I’m chock full of great plans.” Rodimus scoffed, a confident smirk tugging at his dermas.
The two of them once again settled into comfortable quiet for a moment. It… did feel nice for Drift to agree with him on his plans. He wasn’t sure if his code was glitching and making him extra moral today or something, but he wasn’t about to mention it. It’d just mean he would get that concerned look from Drift that he always did and an undeniable demand to go see Ratchet in the medbay. As embarrassing and weird as it was, it wasn’t worth the trouble to deal with.
Drift cleared his vocalizer after a few klicks. “... So, the course change?” He prompted.
Oh yeah. Rodimus reset his vocalizer to catch the navigator’s attention. “Hey, can you adjust the ship’s course out of the asteroid field’s path?” Rodimus felt that shudder wash over him again, a little stronger this time, warming him from his tanks outwards. He, again, covered the little pleasured noise with a cough. Distantly, he worried if it was convincing enough.
[Great choice, Rodimus!]
“... Of course, captain.” The navigator said slowly, seeming a little bewildered by the request.
Rodimus nodded a little. His intake felt dry. Was it warmer on the bridge than usual? “Uhm- In fact, uh… Could you tell me the ship’s current heading again? I’d like to know if,” He glanced at Drift briefly, trying to note if there were any movements to indicate if he was responsible for these untoward feelings. “... if there are any other… obstacles we should be worried about…”
Not so much as a twitch from the other bot as another sizzling wave of pleasure came over his frame.
[Very good, Rodimus!]
Rodimus could feel his panels starting to heat up. He crossed his legs quickly.
“Absolutely, sir! So, from our current course, it looks like we should be relatively safe, aside from the asteroid field. If we adjust the trajectory by-”
Rodimus had zoned out, but nodded along pleasantly. He pawed around his processor. There had to be some code out of place, maybe he really should go see Ratchet.
Rodimus swallowed dryly. Well… it wasn’t so bad… It was weird and kind of embarrassing but…
“Alright then, yes, let's adjust our trajectory to take us…” Rodimus thought for a moment, before pointing at the star map display ahead of them. “Between those two planets there. You said they were uninhabited right?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Okay, then through there it is.” Rodimus concluded. He bit down on his own glossa as another hot wave rolled over him. He dismissed the prompt to open his panels and leaned back, a little stiffer than usual.
[Great work, Rodimus!]
Drift laid a gentle servo on his shoulder pauldron. Rodimus absently reached up to brush his digits against it, blinking a bit before turning to look at his amica. The affectionate, proud smile on his face made Rodimus’ tanks feel funny.
Rodimus smiled back, trying to keep the strain out of his field as he did.
*
This had to be the best 15 shanix Drift had ever spent. He could count on both servos the amount of times Rodimus had been this work oriented! And with such wise choices. He didn’t want to seem braggy, but Drift believed he’d earned a pat on the back.
“And so- Uhuh… and no other transmissions?” Rodimus muttered, hanging over Blaster’s shoulder as he looked over the datapad he had provided.
Drift beamed to himself, readjusting his servos to rest on his sword’s scabbards. This was such a good idea. Rodimus nodded, patting Blaster on the shoulder and muttering a quick, “Keep up the good work!” before turning on his heel strut and awkwardly marching back towards the captain’s seat.
Drift opened his mouth to offer Rodimus a compliment as he passed, however- The expression on Rodimus’ face was… strained. Tense, but a little absent. His optics darted about his amica’s frame, taking in quick details as he approached. His plating was slick with coolant in places, his movement jerky and unfocused, and his optics flickering.
“Roddy-?” Drift began, cocking his head with concern as he shifted closer.
“Wuh?” Rodimus turned to look at him, leaning a little too heavily against the arm of the captain’s chair and casually crossing one leg over the other.
“... Are you feeling alright?” Drift asked. He was trying very hard not to let his processor run, which felt impossible considering the apparent distress Rodimus was under. He monitored his own venting, making sure they didn’t kick on too fiercely at the thought that Rodimus was unwell. He had to remain cool, especially in a situation where he might have to act.
Rodimus’ field clamped back. Not a good sign. He made a face, optics going a little wide and tracing along a very interesting bit of wall geometry conveniently over Drift’s shoulder. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment before popping his intake open with a click. “... Yeah!” he said unconvincingly, straightening up stiffly and putting his servos on his hips. “Never better, why?”
“Oh- just asking.” Drift shrugged a bit, trying to seem unconcerned. It felt impossible. He cleared his vocalizer a bit, rocking on his heels. He could feel the anxious energy crackling in his frame. He tried for a compliment as Rodimus shifted to sit down. “You’ve been doing really great today by the way.” He offered a warm little smile.
Drift felt himself tense up as Rodimus’ optics dimmed at his words, jaw briefly going tight and frame quivering for a moment. He half slipped and half sat down into the captain’s chair, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. Drift could’ve sworn he heard Rodimus’ fans click on for a moment before being manually turned off. “Nnnmmh-! That’s nice of you to say!” Rodimus replied, voice choked in his throat as his digits gripped the arms of the chair.
Drift’s servo went tight on the edge of his scabbard. He fought for something to say. It was beginning to dawn on him that the correlation between Rodimus’ strange- if not unwelcome- change in behaviour and his odd twitching and sweating and vocal tics may become incredibly obvious to the rest of the bridge. It also was occurring to him that there were several steps in his plan that could have been more thorough, i.e. getting any more specific information on the patch from the seller before slapping it onto his best friend and partner.
Drift wracked his processor for anything he could remember about processor viruses being passed through patches. It was obviously common, painfully common, stupidly common, but nothing in Drift’s antivirals had pinged when he’d scanned the patch, nor had any malicious lines of code come back. Was he just not thorough enough?
His optics darted back to Rodimus. The look he had was familiar, but Drift couldn’t place it. He was leaning almost languidly back in the seat, one of his servos cupped pensively over his chin and lips. His pose portrayed a feigned pensiveness, but the knit of his brow was too light for that, the look in his optics too vacant. Strangest of all, Rodimus was entirely still.
Drift swallowed. “... Rodimus?”
“Mmmm?” Rodimus hummed, suddenly jolting again before sitting up fully and folding his hands in his lap. “What’s up?” He added.
Drift fought for the right words again. “... You’re sure you’re okay?”
Rodimus frowned, rolling his optics. “I’m peachy, Drift-” He began, almost imperceptibly tensing before cracking a jovial, but forced smile. “I uh- appreciate the concern but… I’m just feeling…” He seemed to be tiptoeing, staying careful as if he were talking down an armed combatant. “... very… helpful! Today!” He nodded, as if also convincing himself.
Drift’s brow furrowed deeper, grinding his dentas with stress. If that didn’t confirm it was the patch doing this, he didn’t know what could. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him for being such a careless friend, putting something so dangerous on his amica. Drift glanced around, surveying if anyone present was listening. He winced. Half the bridge were stealing glances at them, clearly befuddled by Rodimus’ sudden change in leadership style.
Drift leaned down a bit, trying not to feel awful when Rodimus flinched back a bit. He opened his intake, about to speak when Rodimus quickly held up a digit, optics going glassy as he seemingly read a ping in his processor.
He watched Rodimus bite down an annoyed groan. It was endearing to see his vocalizer rumble a little in his throat cabling. “Listen, Its-” Rodimus measured his words again, “It’s really… conscientious of you… to be so concerned… but! I promise I’m just fine. Now, Ultra Magnus left some datawork in my office that I have to go finish.” Rodimus said, voice soured with false pep.
“Oh- Yeah-!” Drift nodded, leaning back and clearing his vocalizer again. “Do you want me to keep an eye on things while you do that?”
Rodimus paused as he stood up, a look of panic briefly appearing before washing away under another wave of fake polite contentment. “Oh- uh- if you- If that’s not um-” He babbled, his frame tightening again. This time, a brief lick of excess charge arced between Rodimus’ lips. Drift felt his face flush a bit. “I- think. That would be… a really good idea.” He seemed to tense again, his smile looking more like bared teeth as he grit the words out.
Rodimus began to shuffle across the bridge, almost exaggerating his stride as he made his way to his office. Drift watched the door slide closed behind him and turned his attention back through the windshield of the ship. Anxiety was eating him alive at this point. He tried his absolute hardest not to let the guilt consume him before he found a solution, so he worried his lip between his dentas a bit and took a deep, calming vent, before composing his message.
[D: Hey, honey. So, hypothetically speaking, what are the chances of a topical datapatch having an as of yet unknown virus on it that can go undetected by an up to date antiviral scan?]
Drift fidgeted for a moment, before adding:
[D: And does the answer change if the datapatch cost 15 shanix?]
He let out a long sigh, attempting to cool his spiraling processor and offlining his optics. He assured himself that even though he’d made a mistake, there was nothing that Ratchet couldn’t fix, medically speaking. He allowed himself to settle into a bit of a meditative state, drawing in a calming vent.
[R: What the frag did you do?]
*
Okay, Rodimus was now PRETTY sure…. He knew what was going on. He wasn’t sure why, or exactly how, but somehow, Drift was behind this. He was just way more complimentary than normal, and considering that apparently, somehow, compliments from Drift- or anyone, so it seemed- made him feel aroused, he was pretty sure this was just some kinky sex thing Drift had wanted to try but been too shy to warn him about. Under most circumstances, Rodimus might have thought that was a bad thing, communication was important in a relationship, even if Drift could be cagier than a zoo sometimes.
Under the current circumstances, his lust-addled brain believed it was actually a very very good, very very sexy thing. He could probably do without his array being stimulated in response to doing his job, but he figured it was some part of an elaborate roleplay he would be let in on soon.
Rodimus let his mind wander, an indulgent smirk stretching across his face as he considered all the sexy ways Drift would likely be messing with him once he told him what was up.
Another shock jerked through his frame, stronger this time, making Rodimus’ leg kick up involuntarily. Rodimus hissed as he banged his knee on the underside of his desk, gripping the dented spot and putting his forehelm down on the desk for a moment to groan in anger.
[Don’t lose focus on your work, Rodimus!] Drift’s voice chirped jovially in his processor. Rodimus felt curse words bubbling up in his vocalizer, opening his intake to let some free when he received another shock before the first syllables escaped.
[A good captain is polite to his crew!]
“There’s no crew in here!!” Rodimus hissed out to himself, sitting back up and snatching the datapad he was working on off the table.
Okay, so there were some parts of this whole arrangement that were distinctly unsexy, but he figured when his shift was over he could bother Drift about how lame the premise of his fantasy was. For now, the win conditions seemed pretty simple: pretend to care about his job-
ZAP [So close! Try again, Rodimus!]
… Do his job well for a whole shift, get rewarded when he’s good, get zapped when he’s bad.
It was just difficult to judge what Drift- and by extension, the program that had wormed its way into his processor- considered good and bad behaviour. So far he had worked out that getting complimented was a guarantee at a reward, as was… sadly… doing his actual job in a more ‘responsible’ and ‘efficient’ way. Rodimus idly tapped at the datapad, doing his best(ish) to focus on the glyphs in front of him as he perused the form. He was pretty sure it was a request from Ultra Magnus that he’d slipped into his datawork, something about an added rule to the ship surrounding the proper conduct of bringing new scientific specimens on board. Rodimus was frankly disinterested. He could feel his array urging him to slack a bit and tend to it. Rodimus already knew what doing so would earn him though.
He signed off on the form, checking a solid ‘No’ for the approval of the rule before setting the datapad aside. Rodimus allowed himself an indulgent little moan at the tingling feeling that washed over his frame. His visual field went rimmed with static for a moment. The arousal clung to his frame, sticky and hot in his tanks as he swallowed the drool in his salivating intake.
[Great work, Rodimus! Reward strength increased by 20%! Let’s do another!]
Rodimus rocked himself in his seat. He could feel his valve attempt to cycle down, nothing there to squeeze as it helplessly lubricated itself further. Rodimus reached for another datapad and began to scroll through it. Ah, another beautiful form for… something. Release form? Rodimus squinted at it. Boy, it was getting hard to focus. He pressed his thighs together around his panels and rocked a little harder. His optics flickered. He could feel his mesh pressing up against the heated metal of his modesty panels, slick enough to offer little friction. It was maddening.
ZAP! [Don’t lose focus on your work, Rodimus!]
Right, yes. Rodimus needed to work. He looked back at the datapad, grinding his dentas together as he swallowed the whimper of pain that came with the shock. His spoiler was quivering against his will, having spasmed from the jolt.
It looked like um…. Uh… it looked like it was supposed to be some… form for… time off? OH! A time off request! Rodimus scrolled through it to look for the designation of who had asked. He raised his brows in surprise when he realized it was Ultra Magnus again. He smirked to himself as he approved it and sent it off. How nice of him it was, to give the big guy a break-
[Great job, Rodimus!]
Rodimus huffed out steam, curling over the datapad and gritting his dentas as another shiver ran up his back strut. He was doing really great. Maybe this was the real reward for being selfless. He decided that probably wasn’t a very altruistic way of looking at things, but then also decided that in the context of whatever weird kink scene Drift was running for him, it didn’t really matter.
He leaned his cheek against the top of his desk and let his optics go offline. Rodimus tried to remember how many datapads he’d completed before getting distracted- he thought it was 7, which was a new record for him- and tried to weigh that number against how much he wanted to take a break to… take care of business. He nibbled at his lip quietly, letting one of his servos slip down between his thighs.
ZAP! [That can wait until after your shift! Keep up the good work!]
Rodimus whimpered. It was an undignified little noise, one he couldn’t help as pain skittered over his plating. He shakily reached out to the pile of other datapads and began to scroll through. He could feel that almost ASMR like tingle of a code rooting around his processor. That probably wasn’t a good sign, but again, if this was Drift’s doing, as he suspected it was, he would be perfectly fine.
[More motivation needed?] [Accept] [Deny]
Rodimus considered the prompt, shivering again at the way they rang in Drift’s voice.
[Acceptance Confirmed!]
Rodimus choked down a groan as his sensors lit up again, to a low, thrumming degree. It wasn’t anything too terribly intense, but it was constant now, rather than the quick rolling pulses from before. He ground his dentas together, his vocalizer clicking and whining with static.
[Let’s do another datapad!]
Rodimus obeyed, returning his focus to the datapad and beginning to read. His processor felt slowed slightly by the sensation rolling over his frame, but he remained determined. It was uh… He thought it was another acquisition request. Primus, this was impossible. He swallowed again, trying to keep from drooling. He wasn’t about to ruin this feeling with a shock- though the shocks did feel less… annoying… than they used to. He managed to parse that it was an acquisition request for new parts for a replacement shuttle. He signed and accepted again.
[Very good, Rodimus! Increasing reward]
The feeling ratcheted up another level and Rodimus let out a delirious little laugh. He rolled his helm back to bump against the back of his chair, relaxing into the seat and letting his legs fall open. He pawed around for the next datapad.
“Hahh… Being helpful rules…” Rodimus mumbled out as he opened the datapad. A brief ripple of stronger sensation rolled over him, reminding him that, yes, being helpful was very good, and he was being a very good bot for being helpful. Rodimus chewed on his lip, trying to clear his vocalizer of the static.
A longer file this time. He tried not to feel too frustrated at it as he scrolled through. Oh, this was another one of those reminders Magnus prepared for him, something about the new intergalactic laws he’d have to remember that they’d picked up since entering this new dimension. Rodimus’ engine snarled a bit in annoyance as he skimmed the glyphs on screen disinterestedly. He found himself muttering aloud about the stupidity of it all before he could stop himself.
ZAP! [Try again!]
A thin whine weasled it’s way out of his traitorous vocalizer. The mix of that pain and the continuing pleasure made him feel odd. He didn’t like how good that felt.
Rodimus was in the wrong of course, it was very nice of Ultra Magnus to put together a nice helpful document for him to remember! Everyone wanted the best for him after all, especially Mags. He’d have to thank him the next time he saw him.
Rodimus ground his dentas together. Those thoughts felt wrong in his head, but he needed to think them, he needed to because he was good and helpful and he deserved to feel good. Rodimus dutifully read through the document, reminding himself over and over that he wanted to be good when his attention began to wander. By the time he got to the checkbox to confirm it had been read, he could have cried with joy at a release from the maddening slog. He hit the checkbox and set the datapad aside.
[Good job, Rodimus! Increasing reward]
Rodimus groaned out. It felt like the increase was more intense than last time. He felt his spike attempt to pressurize, bumping against his panels as he held them shut through force of will. He was hanging on by a thread. He reached down between his legs to knead at the sensitive, overheated plating with his palm.
ZAP! [You’re still on shift, Rodimus! Let’s finish another datapad!]
Rodimus keened out, pushing his servo harder against his panels. “P-Please-” He wheezed out, as if there were someone to hear him.
ZAP! [You’re still on shift, Rodimus! Let’s finish another datapad!]
He could feel his mesh twitching and aching behind his panels. He pulled his hand back with a hiss, biting back a pathetic whine as it came back wet with transfluid. He felt delirious, his processor fogged with static and lust. He nabbed another three datapads and opened one.
It was supposed to be… He thought it was… Rodimus could hardly focus. The feeling had wracked up again briefly to encourage him to look at the datapad, and it had completely shattered whatever minute focus he had pulled together to even look at the pad in the first place. He let out another undignified groan, leaning back and letting his legs fall open wider as he scrolled through the near unintelligible pad. He let the other two rest on his belly and shakily gripped either side of the datapad. He brought it close to his face.
Words whipped past. New… Morale survey…. Less than…. Results… Rodimus fumbled for the approval mark, earning another shock as Drift’s voice curled around his processor. [Be sure to read thoroughly before making decisions!]
“U-uhuh-” Rodimus moaned out, “S-sorryy…” He scrolled back to the top. He managed to gather that it was a memo regarding the results of a crew morale survey and shakily hit the check mark to approve publicly revealing the results.
[Great idea, Rodimus! Keep up the good work! Increasing reward]
Rodimus cried out, unable to stifle his vocalizer as his hips jerked up against his will. His optics rebooted on their own, his visual field full of static and sparks. Embarrassingly, Rodimus felt a spurt of his own transfluid trickle out from under his panels as they quivered. He stared at the next datapad and drooled. It was blessedly short, just a brief memo informing him of the proposed time of their next refuel stop. He confirmed it and braced himself as he shakily went to place it on his desk.
[Very good, Rodimus! Increasing reward]
The datapad clattered to the ground. Rodimus hardly felt his body give out, going completely stiff as his pistons fritzed and tightened. “NNnn-uuhn-!!” Rodimus gasped out, gritting his dentas as hard as he could as his array bloomed in mind numbing pleasure. He opened his mouth again, spitting static as his sensory field was engulfed in intense pleasure.
He swore he almost rebooted when he overloaded then. His frame went tight and stiff, hips jerking and bucking as transfluid poured out around the edges of his panels. His mind felt melted, the pleasure comingling with the mild sting of another chiding shock.
[What a mess, Rodimus! You’ll have to clean that up!]
Rodimus went limp in his seat, engine purring unevenly and chassis shuddering with each vent. The voice was right, it was a mess, or rather he was a mess. He shivered.
[How are you feeling, Rodimus?] [Query: continue?] [accept] [deny]
Rodimus smiled dumbly, sinking to his knees and pawing around his subspace for a cloth.
…
[Accept]
“I-I feel… h-hah…. Helpful…” Rodimus murmured, dutifully beginning to wipe the transfluid off his floor. He felt another swell of pleasure as the strange code began its processes once again. Rodimus twitched, the feeling suddenly more intense than it probably should have been. He moaned, his oversensitive array beginning to swell again.
That was probably fine, right?