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“I can’t take another night of this.”
Looking a miffed, Ratchet sarcastically said, “Well, I’m sorry I’m such terrible company.”
“Not you, Ratty,” Drift said. He made sure to smile at his conjunx. “I’m always happy with you.” He put his hand over Ratchet’s, enjoying watching the blush creep across his cheeks. “It’s them.”
Ratchet turned in the direction Drift was pointing, finding Megatron and Rodimus at a familiar booth. A booth seldom occupied except by their co-captains.
“Give them time,” Ratchet said. “Look how long it took us.”
“I can’t wait that long!”
“I’m sure it won’t take that long.”
“It shouldn't have taken this long!”
“Give them time,” Ratchet repeated.
“But they're driving me crazy. I mean, just look at them!” Drift gestured in their direction.
Ratchet raised an optic ridge. “They're just sitting there.”
“But their auras. It's so clear they're in love with each other!” When Ratchet still looked unconvinced, Drift added, “And the way they're looking at each other! Tell me you can at least see that.”
Frankly, Drift didn't know how everyone didn’t see it. Rodimus was practically sprawled on the table he was leaning so close. And Megatron? While he might not be all that physically close, it was the soft glow of his optics and the lowering of his guard. Drift couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so comfortable.
“Well, they've got all the time in the world, now,” Ratchet said.
“But they should be enjoying it together.”
“They are together.”
“You know what I mean!”
“ Give them time. I'm not saying it again, Drift."
“Hmph.” Drift crossed his arms. “But—”
“Meddling will only make it worse.”
“But I think Roddy needs that push. He's not gonna make the first move if he's not sure that Megatron likes him, and he'll never be sure because Megatron shows as much emotion as a rock!”
“Meddling will only make it worse.”
“I'm meddling.” Drift stood to an exasperated sigh from Ratchet, about to go over and jokingly ask if this was a date, when he saw Rodimus slide his hand across the table. He left it tantalizingly between them, but closer to Megatron. “Notice it,” Drift whispered to himself.
Of course, he didn't. He didn't take his optics off of Rodimus’ face. Which wouldn't help Rodimus’ confidence— objectify him, you idiot! Rodimus would invite him to berth if he thought he at least thought he was down to interface.
The longer that lonely hand sat between them, the more strained Rodimus’ smile became. Drift could imagine the chaotic thoughts swirling through Rodimus’ processor.
How is he not seeing this? Is he ignoring it? Primus, he must be! It's so obvious he has to be ignoring it!
Ultra Magnus went over to talk to them for a moment, and Rodimus sheepishly slid it back, slouching back against the booth bench.
Alright. Rodimus was trying. Which meant Megatron just needed a little nudge.
Instead of going to their booth like he'd planned, he went to Swerve.
“What can I get ya, Drift? Something for that new conjunx of yours? How's that going, by the way?”
“Nothing, nothing, and good. I need a favour.”
“What sort of favour?” Swerve looked a little wary.
“I need the next song played to be a ballad.”
“A ballad? Listen, Drift, I get you're in the honeymoon phase, but everyone's having a great time dancing. A ballad is just gonna make people go home.”
Drift slapped his gold card down. “What will it cost me for one ballad? And make it a long one. This might take a while.”
“Did I ever tell you that you're my favourite customer, Drift?”
“Just get something really sappy playing.”
Thankfully, when Drift looked back at his co-captains, Ultra Magnus had already wandered off to find code violations, no doubt. Rodimus still looked crestfallen, while Megatron looked no different.
Idiot.
Drift took slow steps, waiting for the thumping bass to fade out to something romantic. When it finally did, the writhing dance floor groaned and many mechs dispersed, but a few were quick to take their place. Chromedome and Rewind were there first, followed by Lug and Anode. Cyclonus ended up there after minimal persuasion from Tailgate.
“Oh, hey, fancy meeting you two here,” Drift said as he sidled up to their table. “It's weird Swerve's playing this, huh? But it's great music to dance to with someone special.” He really emphasized the last words as he looked at Megatron before winking at Rodimus.
“I would think you would want to dance with Ratchet,” Megatron said. “But I don't mind if you'd like to steal Rodimus away for a few minutes.”
Primus. Drift could just punch him.
“Would you like a drink, Rodimus? I'm getting myself another.”
“Sure,” Rodimus said, his spoiler drooping.
Drift blinked rapidly as Megatron completely failed to read the room and just walked to the bar.
“You sure you want him?” Drift asked. “He’s way dumber than he purports to being.”
“Is it that obvious?” Rodimus asked a little sheepishly.
“Roddy, and I say this with love, it’s so obvious that everyone in this room but him knows.”
Rodimus grimaced.
“Just give me a minute.” Drift purposely strode over to Megatron who was just thanking Swerve for the drinks. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to dance with Rodimus.”
Megatron raised an optic ridge. “Then don’t?”
“So maybe I came over to you for another reason?”
Megatron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re conjunx with Ratchet.”
Drift blinked rapidly again. “How did you lead the Decepticons again? Because an imbecile wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
“Not that I’m interested, but insulting me won’t win me over.”
“Ask Rodimus to dance! He’s in love with you, you idiot!”
Megatron’s optics brightened. His voice was small when he said, “What?”
“He’s been flirting with you for months! Did you really not see that?”
Megatron glanced at Rodimus and Drift could practically hear the gears turning in his helm.
Drift sighed frustratedly. “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to bring those drinks over, put them down, and you’re going to kiss his hand and ask him to dance.”
Megatron blushed. “Wouldn’t it be better to—”
“Do exactly as I say? Yes. One of us is conjunxed, so…”
“Fair point.” He glanced at Rodimus again. “You’re sure he—”
“If I have to endure another night of your obliviousness, I’ll kill you.” Drift glared at him.
“And if I embarrass myself in front of the entire bar, I’ll kill you.”
Following his lackluster threat, he did finally listen to Drift. With a glance over his shoulder, he set the drinks down and, with a shaking hand, took a gentle hold of Rodimus’. Drift couldn’t hear them from here, but he could see Rodimus’ enthusiastic nod and both of their beaming smiles. Before long, Rodimus was practically skipping to the dance floor, hand-in-hand with his co-captain, before snuggling right up to him and shutting his optics as they swayed.
“Finally!” Whirl yelled over the music.
With a sigh of relief, Drift returned to Ratchet with a smug look on his face.
“I still say you shouldn’t have meddled,” Ratchet grumbled.
“They’re happy. That’s all that matters. Now… will you dance with me?”
“I can’t reward you for meddling.”
“Pleeeaaase?” Drift batted his optics.
Ratchet sighed. “That’s not fair, kid. You know I can’t say ‘no’ to that face.”
Smiling, Drift kissed Ratchet’s reddening cheeks and offered him his hand. “Shall we?” When Ratchet accepted, he led him over to the dancefloor by Rodimus, giving his amica a high-five before wrapping his arms around Ratchet’s waist and pulling him close.
“Look how happy they are,” Drift whispered. Truly, their smiles were lighting up the room. And the fields of so many mechs shimmered with relief over not having to see these two be so obviously in love, but not do anything about it. Little did they know that Rodimus was about to make their lives hell with all the public displays of affection.