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Despite the warmth surrounding you, you shivered.
Like a moth trapped under a glass, your heartbeat has been lurching between a frantic flutter and a slower, molasses-like pulse for several hours now. Although you’ve been dry for a while, a tacky sensation persisted on your skin, covering it with a translucent layer of neon pink.
You couldn’t sleep. But how could you? How could anyone sleep easily in a place like this?
Beeping and humming droned constantly in the background, acting in the facsimile of life. Dim light seeped into the rectangular space, cast off by the machinery embedded in the dark-grey walls enclosed around you. Your prison was roughly ten-feet high, eight-feet wide, and seven-feet deep. Several circular holes were set into the metal walls, covered over by tight horizontal vents. They were both tinged with that same neon pink colour which reached partway up the walls, like a high-water mark. Warm air stirred through the space, drawing evenly in and out, buffeting that odd smell around you, the unidentifiable smell entrenched in this space – hitting your nose with a low, charged tingle.
You shivered again, curling up a little tighter into yourself.
But the worst part about your cell? It moved.
It rose up and down with the slow, gentle breaths of the giant robot who trapped you here. The one who trapped you inside of him.
In his fuel tank.
As you hugged yourself, your fingertips dug into your upper arms, trying to stave off the horrible feelings writhing within you.
The last thing you remembered from Earth before your life was changed unimaginably forever was chaos. People screaming, running, tripping, falling over each other in their desperate attempt to get away as huge nets soared through the sky. Your feet slipping precariously on the grass as you sprinted as fast as you can, heart almost bursting through your chest, wild eyes pinned on the treeline. Then something slammed into your back, shoving you forward, and the sliding trees in your vision was the last thing you saw of your home planet before darkness overtook you.
When you next woke up, he was there.
Dazed, your head still reeling, through blurry eyes, you had shifted on your bed…only to realize that it wasn’t your bed, but a pile of pristine blankets. You had bolted up, vision spinning, your breaths coming thick and fast as you frantically scanned the strange room. It was all sleek angles and metal, a far cry from home –, but that was as far as you got in that moment. Because the blood suddenly froze in your veins when your gaze landed on the massive figure dominating the room.
He had been sitting on a raised slab of metal inset into the wall, a crown sprouting from his tilted-down head. Something primal screamed inside of you as your brain tried to take in his height. Sixty, no, at least seventy-feet tall. If that hadn’t been evidence enough that he wasn’t from Earth, then the next detail cemented it in your terrified mind. He glinted under the lights, burnishing the flame-yellow, red, and orange metal wrapped around his body. You began to hyperventilate, taking in the exposed grey joints, the angular plating, the cables running up his neck.
That’s when his head twitched up, revealing the white faceplate underneath the horns. A pair of dim blue eyes fall upon your tiny form… and they suddenly blazed into life, a delighted grin quickly stretching on his face at the sight of you.
Ever since then, every day has been a nightmare in one form or the other.
First, it became clear immediately that the robot who had abducted you didn’t understand you at all. Your cries, shouts, screams, yells, yelps, they were all met with a soft blue gaze and an adoring smile. Your captor almost never left you alone, only occasionally leaving you in the cold hands of some kind of robot medic so he could prod and push you around. You were constantly perched on your kidnapper’s shoulder, huddled against his neck, carried around in a pair of yellow hands which could crush you in an instant if he wanted to. Any attempt to scramble away from him was thwarted by a cajoling nudge of his metal fingers and a firm, restraining pinch around your body. Similarly, your attempts to escape were quickly cut short by a sweep of his hand or by the ‘helpful’ intervention of one of the other robots as you tried to scurry down a corridor. Otherwise, your captor talked to you at every opportunity, a fast, upbeat pace to his voice, but you couldn’t decipher his strange, unintelligible language. Even his name was a mystery to you, despite how often certain sounds were shouted after him; there was no way you could replicate it with your human tongue – so, in your head, you called him ‘Flame’.
Sometimes you saw another human sitting on the shoulder of one of those robots, but you could only share a few, strained words with them (if you were lucky) before Flame interrupted you, pulling your attention back to him.
But it didn’t take you long to realize what fate awaited humans here, abducted thousands of light years away from our home and trapped aboard a leviathan spaceship. In the eyes of these huge alien-robots, you were playthings, pets, or worse, something to indulge in.
Like Flame was doing right now.
A full body shudder ran through you as you laid on the ‘floor’.
This wasn’t the first time he’s swallowed you into his fuel tank…however, it didn’t make it any less terrifying. It used to be an occasional event – the irresistible, final, satisfied flourish when Flame finished sliding his tongue all over you, coating you completely in his salvia, but he still wanted more…
But recently that’s changed. Flame has started to store you inside of him every night while he was recharging. And it didn’t escape your notice that the timing of this new development happened after you had tried several times to sneak out of the room while Flame was sleeping.
Your fingertips dug deeper into your arms, embedding crescent marks into the flesh, as an existential fear wormed its way through your mind, filling it with the deep, overwhelming worry which made any effort to sleep impossible.
If Flame wanted to, there was nothing stopping him from keeping you imprisoned inside of him forever –
You pinched yourself, hard, sucking a hiss past your teeth at the sharp pain which sprung up on your upper arm.
No! You’re not going to let that happen! Forcing yourself to breathe, you let the dull burn on your arm ground you, focusing your mind. There must be a way back home, there must. If these aliens can get to your planet, then it stands to reason that you must be able to get back to Earth too.
Giant inhalations swept lightly over your body, buffeting its warm presence across your skin. The metal panel beneath you rose up in tandem in the slightest of arches, pressing gently into your sides and lifting you up with it. A sore reminder of the biggest obstacle in the way of your dream of going back home.
Your gaze drifted away from the moving floor, sluggishly crawling along the walls instead. If only you could find a way to get away from Flame –
Then your meandering gaze paused. You stared across the tank, transfixed on the wall on the other side – a wall that had originally been a high ceiling when Flame had been standing. In the middle of that wall, there was a round, open hole – the one you had slid out of several hours ago. It marked the beginning (or the end, depending on your perspective) of the long tunnel that was Flame’s oesophagus.
A strange idea suddenly occurred to you.
…Could I climb out of here?
Slowly, you pushed yourself onto your feet, caught in the lightheaded sensation which flooded your head at the completely bonkers idea. You crept forward towards the opening, taking extra care with each step to make sure Flame’s breathing didn’t suddenly tip you over. It had originally been too far out of your reach, too high to try to jump up and grab onto the edge, surrounded by walls too slick to climb to even contemplate the idea.
But now? After Flame had laid down to rest? The beginning of the tunnel was three feet above your head. And your heartbeat started to quicken, excitement mingled with trepidation, as you noticed the relative dryness of the former ceiling, no pink stains marring its surface, and the long, thin divots cut into the metal. Too narrow for alien fingers, but big enough for your human hands to grip on to, they formed the perfect ladder up to the opening.
This is absurd, it’s stupid, it’s risky, a voice nagged at the back of your mind. Loud and hard against your sternum, however, your heart thumped swiftly, electrified at the opportunity. This close to the entrance, the warm air was a little hotter, a few degrees fresher; pulled in from the outside by giant breaths.
Back when you were still sleeping on the blanket pile that made up your bed, often you would jolt awake in the early hours, terrified by the nightmares which followed you into your dreams. And the first thing you would see when you woke up was Flame as he laid flat on that metal berth, his huge mouth gently parted in his sleep.
Fuelled by that memory, a kick of adrenaline spurring you on, you stepped forward. Your fingers slid into the narrow divots, gripping them tight. Then you began to boost yourself up, placing one careful foot after the other into the thin, horizontal holes. Once you reached the opening, you cautiously peered up it, flicking an assessing gaze around the inside.
Grey, smooth silicone-like material lined the throat; at regular intervals, you spotted firmer edges pressing into it from the outside, revealing what you presumed was a flexible metal casing (or tubing?) surrounding the oesophagus. A pink sheen coated the insides, the damp remains of his salvia.
Bad memories shivered within you, of tight, inorganic muscles gripping your body, darkness dragging you down in rhythmic pulse.
You shook your head, deliberately breathing out as you shoved the recollections to one side, to inspect the gullet more closely. His throat was more open in its relaxed state than you had experienced yourself. The tunnel wasn’t especially large compared to you…but it was sizeable enough for you to crawl through without worrying about bumping your head on the ceiling. But more importantly, right now? It’s mostly horizontal, resting at a long, shallow angle which lead up to Flame’s mouth.
But in the distance, contrasted against the deeper darkness of his mouth, there was a glimmer of dim light.
Hope suddenly burned in your chest at the sight, a burst of buoyancy raising within your body.
That was your ticket out of here.
Like a sign sent from above to encourage you, more warm air brushed briskly past your face, bolstering your desire as you quickly conjured up a plan in your head.
If you climbed back up into his mouth, all you would have to do is wait, figure out the exact cyclical pattern of Flame’s breathing to find a safe opening. Then, once you spotted the perfect moment, you could clamber out of his mouth and escape. Afterwards, you’d sneak out of his room and find a new place to hide onboard this ship, like a vent or an unrepaired crack in an interior wall, somewhere where no titanic hands could reach you. As long as you were careful, you could wait for the spaceship to land back on Earth or hitch a ride on an unsuspecting robot, then you could sprint away, flying across the dirt and grass of your home back to safety –
Suddenly a small rumbling noise shook around you. You froze on the spot, gripping tighter onto your handholds as it threatened to unbalance you. The sound hummed in the metal under your feet and hands. But mercifully the lethargic vibration was brief – it quickly settled down, fading away as it dissipated through the walls into the thick panelling of your captor. Familiar beeps and humming and whirring of the fuel tank returned to your hearing: familiar although not comforting. Once the danger had passed, you let out a relieved sigh. However, a new apprehension clung to the back of your neck as you gazed up the long, damp tunnel stretching out before you.
…It was a long shot, admittedly, but it was better than just sitting here for the rest of your foreseeable life. And even if you couldn’t escape the ship, at least you would be away from him.
With that determination fixed into place, you adjusted your grip on the divots then you cautiously pulled yourself into the opening. A nervous tingle skittered over your skin as you gathered your legs into the tunnel, glancing around for any sign of change at your presence – any sign that the throat was about suddenly tightened around you. But the rhythmic sounds remained unchanged, slow and steady in the depths of sleep.
Emboldened, you began to crawl forward, carefully placing your hands and knees securely on the smooth surface. Your gaze locked on that grey glimmer of hope in the distance.
A sensor was triggered, sending a silent alert into his core processor.
…Hmm?
Rodimus faintly stirred back online, still mostly caught in his recharge as he laid flat on the berth. His blue optics flickered on, emitting an almost imperceivable glow. As he slowly awakened back into awareness, Rodimus sensed something in the back of his intake. His optical ride twitched down minutely, more consciousness seeping into his foggy mind.
What is th–?
Then a familiar taste seeped over the back of his glossa – sweet with a sharp, zingy edge – instantly solving the mystery in a nano-kilick. It’s you.
Somewhere inside of him, an instinctive programming instantly kicked into gear, telling Rodimus to remain still. He continued his even cycle of breathing as his optics blinked online, half-alert, the azure light limited to a dim glow – careful not to alert you to his awake presence. For a micro-kilick, Rodimus felt nothing move in his intake…but then another spot of flavour landed on his glossa, seeping into the solvent coating the muscle, and a tiny weight shifted forward.
Rodimus quirked his optical ride up.
Huh.
If he hadn’t been trying so hard to stay quiet, he would’ve laughed at your antics, although Rodimus couldn’t help but be impressed by your tenacity. Considering your small size, it must’ve taken you a lot of effort to climb up from his fuel tank into his intake. But there was a more important, pressing question in his processor.
What are you up to, buddy…? he sighed to himself, his optics lax with sleep. Rodimus laid motionless on his berth, only his chest plate moved up and down with each steady inhale and exhale as he waited.
Then he felt his human creep forward. Your soft, delicate servos pressed into his glossa, one over another, spreading small drops of flavour over the surface, as you gradually moved towards the middle of his intake. They continued in one unwavering direction, slow yet determined. And it was this unwavering path they took which revealed their objective to Rodimus.
You were heading to the opening of his intake.
As soon as Rodimus realized this, there was a small yet apprehensive pulse in his spark, the same feeling you had when you saw a sparkling wandering towards a distant danger.
Woah, woah, woah!
Acting quickly, still pretending to be deep in his recharge, Rodimus let out a long slumbrous yawn.
Just as he hoped, you froze on his glossa, a guilty stillness enveloping your form. Fondness instantly flowed through his spark, dissolving some of his apprehension. You were too cute. But Rodimus always knew you were – from the first moment his optics saw you, freshly arrived in Swindle’s store, still sound asleep curled up in your little container.
Resisting the urge to chuckle, Rodimus finished his yawning sigh with a gentle exhale, letting his lips close softly behind it – resoundingly blocking your grand escape attempt.
In the furthest limits of his auditorial receptors, he heard you make the tiniest noise of disappointment. The corner of his lips twitched upwards as Rodimus switched his intake source to his nasal filtration passage, continuing to evenly breath in and out.
Sorry, bud, no can do.
He felt you shift on his glossa, a hesitancy in the action...then you crawled forward and it wasn’t long until you were next to his shut intake. Once you were there, you sat down. Perching on the tip of his glossa, you waited stubbornly by his closed lips, waiting for them to open. And again, that affectionate feeling curled through Rodimus’s spark.
Cute.
He kept his helm still as his tired gaze slid over to the right, resting his optics on the wall next to his berth. Sleepiness still lingered in his processors as he checked his internal systems, which notified him that he had to be fully online in less than five breems. Rodimus dismissed the alert, confident he could easily fully recharge in that time. Besides, he’s completed dozens of dangerous missions before on only a quarter of his functionality.
Looking after you in comparison was a breeze in many ways. As long as you stayed close to him, Rodimus knew you could always rely on him to protect you. You’d never have to worry about anything or anyone harming you, not when you had the co-captain of The Lost Light as your constant defender.
…However, getting his human to follow the ‘staying close to him’ directive sometimes proved to be a bit of a challenge for him.
He might’ve been more concerned if Swindle hadn’t already reassured him that humans were skittish in nature, prone to running away and attempting to hide as soon as a mech’s back was turned. “But that’s the beauty when it comes to humans,” Swindle had told Rodimus with a grin as he boxed up his new companion, “It makes the moment you gain their trust all the more sweeter.”
Your diminutive weight fidgeted on his glossa, nudging his attention back to you. The smile that appeared on his faceplate was tiny but full of warmth.
But that’s okay. He’ll gain your trust one day. Rodimus was certain of it, more certain than of anything else in his entire existence. How could you not? So, as long as your safety was secured, he can wait.
For now, however, his optics drifted up to the ceiling as he contemplated what he should do next.
Should he pull them out of his intake? Should he give them a firm warning about the danger they could’ve put themselves in by clambering around a sleeping Cybertronian’s intake?
However, as soon as the idea blipped through his processor, Rodimus dismissed it, inwardly bristling at the notion.
No. I would never hurt them. Never. Not even when I’m recharging.
And besides, Rodimus has listened to too many other mechs recounting their tales of woes as they stared miserably at their energon drinks. How a simple chastising had led to a huge ped back in their bond with their human, how the tiny organic had scurried away, hiding in a sulk, doing their best to avoid their owners after a light telling-off.
Rodimus frowned. No, he didn’t want that to happen with his buddy. Too many times, he has been the villain in someone else’s optics. When it came to you, he never wanted to be the bad guy in your optics. No, he wanted to be your hero.
…However, he couldn’t simply let them clamber out of his mouth, even if that’s what his human wanted. There were too many potential accidents lurking outside of his habitation suite. All it would take is a large fall, an exposed wire poking out from a panel, or a distracted mech who wasn’t watching where they were going, and his precious companion would be gone forever.
His spark shuddered at the thought.
No, the safest place for you was right here with him.
Decided, Rodimus prepared himself to swallow you back into the security of his fuel tank, storing you behind the protection of his plates before settling down to rechar–
But, before he made any movement, he paused.
Your sweet flavour pooled on his glossa, reviving the faint memory of your taste earlier this evening with a new wave of freshness. It tingled on his receptors, a tantalizing glimpse of that sparkling sensation which always accompanied the first real taste of you.
Suddenly several observations collided together in Rodimus’s mind, sparking into a fantastic idea in his core processor.
As soon as he swallowed you, there was no guarantee you wouldn’t attempt this again at some point. …But you had no idea he was online right now. You were already in his intake, filling it with your marvellous taste. And that presented a wonderful opportunity to dissuade you from climbing out of his fuel tank again while he was recharging, without him turning into a bad mech in your optics.
After all I’m still recharging, aren’t I? Rodimus thought smugly to himself. If I’m unaware, I can’t be held responsible for any of my actions. How can I possibly be blamed if I take another taste this evening?
A wide, tight-lipped stretched across his face, delighted at his sudden stroke of genius.
Besides, what was that strange saying Swindle had told me last jour…? Oh, that’s right: ‘ignorance is bliss.’
And with that final thought, he happily followed along his impulse.
Rodimus let out an exaggerated sleepy moan, elongating the sound to almost absurd proportions. Then he promptly rolled over onto his right side.
There was an indignant squeak inside of his intake as you were immediately unbalanced. You tumbled over in his mouth, falling off his glossa and landing in a ball in his cheek instead. Another tiny sound jumped from your intake as you laid in the hollow pocket for a nano-kilick, undoubtably confused, before you started to squirm in his cheek, attempting to stand up.
Fighting back the urge to chuckle, not wanting to reveal his secret, Rodimus took advantage of the movement and slowly chased after his human with his glossa. He swiped the tip lethargically up their side, eliciting more surprised chirps from their intake as they were pushed back into his cheek. That crisp, zinging sensation flowed over his taste receptors and a pleased hum rumbled in Rodimus’s chest, thrilled at the prospect of enjoying your flavour for a second time. Meanwhile your tiny servos pushed at his glossa, miniature digits sliding over the pink solvent which lightly covered it, unknowingly pushing even more of that fresh zesty taste into his receptors.
And he wanted more.
He eased the tip of his glossa around you, hooking you gently out of his cheek. You tried to kick out with your limbs, but your efforts were easily overpowered as he continued to move you around in his intake. With slow, relaxed motions, Rodimus swirled you around in his intake, swishing you from side to side like a delightful piece of energon candy, gradually sucking away the zingy flavour which coated you until a new burst of sweetness flooded his glossa. Solvent built up in his intake, clinging to his human, the excess flowing to the back of his intake and carrying their taste down his throat. You continued to fight against his glossa, but all Rodimus felt were tiny bumps against the inorganic muscle, more hits of sugary delight lighting up his sensors.
Another happy rumble purred in his intake, humming you across his glossa. Primus, you tasted amazing. Rodimus carried on softly manoeuvring his glossa around his human, lifting and pushing and pushing and spinning them around in his intake, savouring every inch of them. Their blows were weaker, their kicks and punches less frequent, as he had hoped – the longer you fought, the more energy you spent. You were starting to become tired, just like Rodimus had intended to. Pride warmed through his tired wires at the realization, a hint of smugness in the feeling. Plus, as a bonus, he was able to enjoy your sweet flavour as he did.
Rodimus continued to suck and taste you, gradually coating every bit of you he could find with his solvent. Ten kilicks later, your form was lax against his glossa, thoroughly exhausted from all the wriggling that you did. His optics softened at the tiny weight half-cupped in his glossa.
There we go…
Fatigue also began to tug at Rodimus’s processors, warm and full of adoration and satisfaction. His head dipped minutely, giving himself an acquiescing nod.
Yeah, that’s enough for now. It’s time we both returned to our recharge, buddy.
Rodimus let gravity do most of the work this time as he rolled over to his left, rolling you with him. His back landed squarely on the berth with a solid thud. And the sudden thump bounced you on his glossa, earning another startled squeak from you as you tumbled backwards into his intake, inadvertently pitching yourself close to where he wanted you to be.
With a lethargic smile gracing his lips, Rodimus stretched pleasurably on his berth, elongating the plating between his joints. He opened his intake, drawing in a huge breath over his parted dentae. Rodimus let out a long, satisfied yawn; his glossa arched up with the action, sliding your objecting form down with it.
Then, with a deeply contented spark, Rodimus closed his intake and instantly swallowed, sending his precious organic into his throat with a small gulp.
Your quick muffled chirps started to travel down his oesophagus, faint behind his red and orange armour-plating. Rodimus’s tired smile lingered, savouring both his achievement and the taste which remained in his intake.
There you go. You’re safe now.
Inorganic muscles enveloped your form, overwhelming your weak protests and pushing you deeper inside of him. After a few micro-kilicks, Rodimus felt you land in his fuel tank with a light thud, cushioned by the living metal yielding underneath you like a firm net. The bottom of his tank rose up, carrying you up with it, then it slowly solidified beneath you, retaining only a slight malleability as it returned to its original, flat state.
There was a pause inside of him. You laid, unmoving, in the fuel tank, your tiny chest billowing in and out. Then your miniscule servos pressed against the metal, a miniscule tremble running down your arms as you struggled to push yourself up on your servos. But then you suddenly toppled onto your side, flopping onto the floor as you gave up – completely exhausted.
Rodimus bobbed his helm in a gratified nod.
Good. No more breakout attempts tonight, okay, buddy?
He settled himself more comfortably on his berth, then he engaged the lock of his main intake, sealing it shut.
Rodimus sighed as he switched to other external intakes. He had to make sure there were no near misses like that again. From now on, he was going to lock his intake every single time he recharged, no exceptions.
His optics drifted along his torso to the place where his fuel tank was concealed. Slowly Rodimus slid his yellow servo over his tank, running his digits gently over the spot where you were laying. Underneath his soothing strokes, his sensors noticed your steady inhales and exhales, your prone form practically moulded to the bottom of his fuel tank. You were fast asleep.
Rodimus continued to stare down at his armour-plating, soft awe and affection glowing in his optics. Everything about his human warmed his spark. From the way they clung onto his digits when he carried them in his servos; the indecipherable yet cute noises they made in return to his comments; to the colour of their strange organic optics as they stared up at him.
What kind of a leader would he be if he failed to protect the closest companion he’s ever had, huh? The only confidant he could trust on this ship not to judge him. His one source of comfort at the end of long days where every single decision he made was questioned or ridiculed.
Rodimus’s glossa absent-mindedly shifted in his intake, stirring up your sweet flavour along with a faint zing. Then a new thought occurred to him, causing his closed lips to twitch up with amusement as he sunk back deeper into his berth.
Although…now that he knows that you’re safe, now that there was no way you could endanger yourself in the future…he wouldn’t mind it if you tried to climb out of his intake again.
After all, there are worse things to wake up to than a cute midnight snack.
With a sleepy yet pleased hum, Rodimus raised his other servo to join the one over his fuel tank, linking the digits together. His linked hands pressed lightly into his plating – holding his treasured companion closer to him.
Night, buddy, I’ll see you in a few breems.
His blue optics slowly dimmed down as Rodimus fell back into his recharge. Buoyed by the comforting weight inside of him, reassured and proud in the knowledge that you were shielded from danger, and his intake still filled with the pleasure of your delicious taste, one happy thought followed him into his slumber.
Out of all the humans in Swindle’s store, I’m glad that I chose you.