Rituals

‘Rituals’ were still something well beyond Wreck-Gar’s level of comprehension, but something he was slowly getting used to anyway. When Lugnut said something was always done at a certain time of the solar year, or something was always carried out in a certain way, Wreck-Gar never quite grasped why or how that came to be. Then again, time itself – things like months, weeks, or years – were fairly complicated already, and still something he had been mulling over in his struggling processor.

Lugnut said that they were supposed to honor certain days of the year – like the day Megatron had taken Kaon under control, the day the Decepticons defeated the Autobot forces at Iacon, or even the day that Megatron had been lost to Earth the first time. The last one confused Wreck-Gar a great deal – why anyone would raise a bottle of oil to such an occasion was well beyond him. All he knew was that it was a very unhappy day for Lugnut, and only served to remind Lugnut about the second time they lost Megatron. Wreck-Gar knew Megatron was gone – not offline, just missing, like Wreck-Gar had been missing in the river. Other than that, Lugnut only talked about when Megatron was coming back - when Megatron would be found, and how pleased Megatron would be with their hard work and their dedication.

Even though Wreck-Gar did not know Megatron personally, it was hard not to be excited when Lugnut talked about it so passionately. Wreck-Gar often wondered what it might feel like to love something that much – so entirely. He wondered if the others were a little envious of Lugnut’s devotion too.

Wreck-Gar had been alive for an Earth year now, and with Lugnut and the Decepticons almost six months – since the Earth springtime, when he had finally managed to wriggle from of his confines under the river and climb ashore. Lugnut had found him, and Lugnut had given him a place to sleep, and oil to live off of. He even gave Wreck-Gar a purpose, a job, which was to have them build a new base. Usually Wreck-Gar was useful, in some simplistic manner. He held tools for the Constructicons, found things for them, and brought them oil. Lugnut did the heavy lifting, and Wreck-Gar could admire how much more useful Lugnut might be because of that, but Wreck-Gar was happy nevertheless. It wasn’t as if Lugnut could carry around the little screws and bolts necessary to hold it all together. So, Wreck-Gar was mostly happy about his contribution, and Lugnut seemed pleased too – Wreck-Gar needed no more vindication than that.

Outside of the rituals of work and remembrance, Lugnut had been teaching Wreck-Gar about other rituals. Some where little things – like recharging at a certain time or taking certain days off to rest from the work. But there were bigger, more important rituals too, some so deeply significant that it was hard to describe them – it was hard to comprehend them. And Wreck-Gar was indulging in one of these rituals now.

Cold bubbly water splashed over his head. Wreck-Gar wriggled, optics blinking as Lugnut began to pour more cleaner on top of his head. The water around Wreck-Gar was chest-deep, and brown with grit and dirt, speckled white with foam. A few tiny rubber duckies drifted along the lapping waves lazily. Patiently, curiously, Wreck-Gar sat there and watched Lugnut.

‘Why do we take baths?’ asked Wreck-Gar, picking up the largest ducky and squeezing it. It elicited a loud squeak, and for some reason Wreck-Gar found this deeply fascinating. He squeezed down again, distracted as Lugnut awkwardly slid a rough cloth over his head.

‘Because Megatron does not appreciate dirt,’ grunted Lugnut, leaning over the side of the makeshift tub to find a better angle. ‘Especially not organic dirt.’

‘Is it only Megatron?’ asked Wreck-Gar, squeezing the ducky and holding it up to look at Lugnut. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for him to come back?’

Lugnut groused and flicked the ducky away. ‘I’m doing this incase he comes back.’

The tub had been Wreck-Gar’s idea, actually – or rather, his epiphany. Lugnut had been attempting to describe wash racks to the Constructicons, but there was a dispute over the availability of water, as well as water pressure. They were too large, and the amount of time it would take to make wash racks like Cybertron’s would be a waste. Wreck-Gar, remembering a human commercial, had suggested they make an indoor swimming pool instead. Oddly, this had been a considerable stroke of genius, but Lugnut had seemed somewhat… unhappy about it, especially when Wreck-Gar described where the idea had originated.

Apparently, Lugnut thought Wreck-Gar was too influenced by the humans – which, considering he was in a human swimming pool being washed with human soaps and human towels, might be kind of impossible to avoid.

Wreck-Gar sank a little into the water as the thoughts confounded him. This was hardly the first time he felt out of the loop about where he belonged. The humans – well, he didn’t know any personally, but he knew their identities – were the only thing he understood so far. The soap operas, the cooking shows, the commercials, the media – Wreck-Gar knew all these things. Cybertron was different – a vague, ghostly perception was all he had of the planet he was supposed to think of as his own. It was only something Lugnut described to him – almost like a story, a fairytale.

‘What?’ said Lugnut awkwardly, grasping Wreck-Gar by the garbage can and lifting him up slightly. ‘Why are you making that face?’

Wreck-Gar looked up, his optics brightening and a smile gracing his face at his friend’s concern. ‘I was just wondering,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Can you ever show me what Cybertron looks like? Maybe if I saw it, I might be more excited about going there – going home, that is.’

As far as Wreck-Gar knew, this base was his home – but the way Lugnut straightened his shoulders so proudly made it okay to say Cybertron was his real home.

‘I have no way to show you right now,’ said Lugnut, making Wreck-Gar sink again. ‘But if you must know, I can… sync with you.’

Wreck-Gar cocked his head. ‘Like an I-Pod?’

‘What?’ said Lugnut – and then he decided it didn’t matter. ‘It means we connect – exchange information. It’s… not something Decepticons usually do. But you have never seen Cybertron, nor do you truly know of Megatron’s greatness! I do not believe you can truly be a Decepticon until you do!’

‘And then I would see it?’ asked Wreck-Gar, his voice tinged with excitement. ‘Like you do?’

‘Feel it,’ said Lugnut awkwardly. ‘You would… sense what I feel about Cybertron, about Megatron… As if you were feeling it yourself. It won’t let you see it, but you’ll understand why we must return one day.’

Lugnut pulled Wreck-Gar out of the pool, tossing a bundle of towels on him. Wreck-Gar obediently began to dry himself off, shaking his feet and flicking his fingers to get all the little droplets. When Lugnut was sufficiently satisfied, he grabbed Wreck-Gar by the garbage bin and picked him up. Much like the kittens Wreck-Gar had seen on TV, he curled up, looking up at Lugnut with wide eyes.

Lugnut stared back, his optic narrowing. ‘…What are you doing?’

Sheepishly, Wreck-Gar began to relax his body. He couldn’t describe to Lugnut why he mimicked everything he saw, because it was impossible to really put it into words. He just shrugged a little.

‘Do we interface now?’ he asked curiously.

Lugnut’s optic narrowed, his weight shifting awkwardly. He carried Wreck-Gar back to their quarters. Lugnut had not specified that they have separate rooms – he mentioned that out of all of them, Wreck-Gar was the one that he found himself least irritated by, and the energy and time it would take to give them separate quarters was simply unacceptable. Lugnut settled down against his own berth, setting Wreck-Gar against his thigh.

‘Open your chest,’ rumbled Lugnut, startling Wreck-Gar.

Confused, Wreck-Gar looked down at his chest, looking for some kind of a seam or a compartment that he could open. ‘Um,’ said Wreck-Gar awkwardly, looking up at his companion. ‘How do I do that?’

Lugnut uttered an exasperated sound, his claws slowly moving to touch Wreck-Gar’s chest. He awkwardly slid down the sides of his chest, tugging lightly without success. Wreck-Gar wriggled awkwardly, his optics wide as he stared up at Lugnut.

‘Where is your spark?’ asked Lugnut, his fingertips touching against Wreck-Gar’s chest lightly. ‘How do you access it?’

Wreck-Gar looked down at his chest, then back up. ‘Spark?’ he asked bemusedly.

It was clear there was some kind of a translation error going on. Lugnut was clearly struggling to respond to Wreck-Gar’s inquiry. Yet, after a few moments, Lugnut’s optic widened with understanding. Wreck-Gar returned the look with a puzzled smile.

‘You don’t have a spark,’ said Lugnut suddenly, in a rather… odd tone. ‘You’re powered by the All Spark – not a spark. So you cannot interface…’

Wreck-Gar patiently sat back, looking at Lugnut for an explanation, yet a little frightened to hear it. With many of these words, he didn’t know the exact meanings behind them, but he could at the very least understand nuances. This was very serious, even though he could not decipher why or how.

At Wreck-Gar’s patiently curious stare, Lugnut tried to elaborate. ‘It is how Decepticons couple – how they give one another fulfillment.’

Wreck-Gar’s head cocked to the side slightly. ‘Like sex?’

‘What?’ grunted Lugnut.

Wreck-Gar didn’t have much more of a concept of ‘sex’ than Lugnut did – just what he had found in so-called PG-13 human media. It seemed somehow important, and the humans seemed to hold it in the same high regard that Lugnut did with syncing.

Gently, Wreck-Gar leaned up against Lugnut, hands pawing at him lightly. He couldn’t describe it, but he could show it – with his limited knowledge of the subject, he only had a vague understanding of the ritual.

The easiest part was the initiation. Wreck-Gar moved to stand up on Lugnut’s thigh, on his tip toes as he brushed a kiss against Lugnut’s mouth. When the Decepticon stayed statue still in response, Wreck-Gar frowned and tried again. His mouth pressed against Lugnut’s warm jaw, face nuzzling lightly against him.

‘Wreck-Gar?’ rumbled Lugnut softly – not exactly a warning or a protest, simply an inquiry.

Wreck-Gar smiled brightly, nuzzling Lugnut. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked, punctuating the sentence with a little kiss.

Lugnut huffed a little. ‘I do not see the point,’ he stated bluntly, but his arm slid under Wreck-Gar to hold him still. ‘That is nothing like interface. That–’

Warmth rippled from Wreck-Gar’s chest to the very tips of his fingers and toes. Something about the way Lugnut had shifted him, readjusted him, aligned the heat from his own chest to Lugnut’s. Were these sparks?

‘Lugnut?’

The Decepticon gave a strangled little growl in response, his arm tightening on Wreck-Gar. There was a surge of energy – spark energy, Wreck-Gar supposed – that he could feel inside him. It wasn’t his energy, but Lugnut’s, and it seemed to be trying to press inside his chest, to feel his circuits. Wreck-Gar squirmed, uttering a little gasp as he held onto Lugnut.

‘Lugnut,’ said Wreck-Gar again, this time with encouragement.

The Decepticon leaned back, holding Wreck-Gar close as their warm chests remained pressed together. Wreck-Gar arched and moved against Lugnut warmly, little whimpers escaping him with every pulse of energy his own spark seemed to pull from Lugnut. Lugnut had thought Wreck-Gar’s chest needed to be open for this, but his life force, the All Spark Lugnut had told him about so often, seemingly didn’t need that.

Lugnut’s chest plates peeled back nevertheless, allowing Wreck-Gar to sink down against the heat of the Decepticon’s life force. And suddenly, Lugnut’s reasoning became clear. The pleasure of it was immense, but there was something else as well – a feeling, an imprint of Lugnut’s consciousness that seemed to transmit through their connection.

Wreck-Gar cried out, clutching tighter against the Decepticon, optics shuttered as he tried to endure the sudden onslaught of Lugnut’s consciousness seeping into his own. Lugnut likewise seemed overwhelmed, uttering Cybertronian phrases that were most undoubtedly expletives.

There were no little touches exchanged, nothing that was even moderately near human sex as Wreck-Gar understood it. They simply held onto one another, Lugnut’s spark and the All Spark pulsing together heavily until it finally came to a stop. The pleasure built, then released in a sudden, startling wave of ecstasy that made Wreck-Gar writhe and shriek, and Lugnut clutch tighter and groan.

Wreck-Gar could feel Lugnut through the bond, and from a distant sort of way, he could understand him. Megatron and Cybertron were no longer just words – they were given a sudden startling context, context that Wreck-Gar couldn’t entirely describe. He simply knew them, like Lugnut knew them, and loved them as Lugnut did.

But Wreck-Gar still knew those feelings did not belong to him. He still didn’t know if he could love ‘home’ as Lugnut did, or if he could belong. It seemed only to conflict with human culture he had been born into.

Wreck-Gar was startled by the feel of Lugnut’s mouth components against the side of his face. It was a mockery of a kiss, but still a kiss, and Wreck-Gar’s confused little frown immediately faded. He leaned into Lugnut, arms tossed around his shoulders tightly.

Lugnut knew his place in the universe better than anyone Wreck-Gar knew, but was still willing to try something else like this when the time called for it. Wreck-Gar curiously gazed at Lugnut before giving him a grateful little kiss in return.

Even if he didn’t know yet – even if he barely understand bonding, or how the relationships between Cybertronians fit together – he suddenly did not feel like he was doing the wrong thing or doing everything the wrong way. Even if he wasn’t sure how he fit in, where he fit in, he felt perfectly content where he was situated now.

Wreck-Gar stretched out and flopped against Lugnut heavily, smiling to himself as he allowed recharge to claim him.