Chapter Text
Sunday, September 11th, 2011
The first thing Optimus woke up to was the sweet smell of cinnamon.
It was barely there, a small draft carried the scent into the living room. It was pleasant.
He sits up in the recliner, Lua had long since departed from his lap, most likely enjoying a breakfast of her own.
The smell is familiar, he remembers that time you had brought cookies to base for the children. (a small, small part inside of him was jealous he couldn't have any.)
But now, he may finally have the chance.
Optimus comes to a pause in the midst of waking himself up.
He stares down at his hands. Has it finally settled in?
Fleshy, tan, and scarred. He curls them into tight fists. This is real. This is really, real.
What was he thinking? Was he still truly holding onto that dull hope that this was just a dream?
A bittersweet fantasy his mind created just to soothe his aching spark? Perhaps it was his punishment, a life he could've had with you if he hadn't made so many mistakes. Now it was being dangled in front of his face, taunting him.
No. This is very real. He is awake, in a human home, wearing human clothes, wearing human skin.
Optimus stands from the recliner. He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts, plaguing your home with such negativity. That would just be another thing he's ruined.
His socked feet stride against the intricate rug laid in your hallway, lazily stumbling over the wrinkles in the fabric.
Optimus knows that he'll never get used to the feeling of waking up like this.
When he was his true self, waking up was simple. He rose from his berth feeling energized and ready for the day, but now.. he wishes he could just lay back down on the recliner and sleep forever.
Unfortunately, that's not an option.
Instead, he simply rubs the bridge of his nose, brows furrowing in a poor attempt to ground himself.
The smell of cinnamon gets stronger as he rounds the corner, spying you bent over the sink, scrubbing hard on a pot with burnt sugar on the bottom.
You pause for a moment, groaning in discomfort and rolling your shoulders at the black residue that refuses to budge.
Footsteps shuffle behind behind you, you peer over your shoulder to spy Optimus leaning against the counter, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Goodmorning! Sleep well?" You wipe your hands off with a rag, resting your back against the counter next to the sink.
Optimus hummed deeply in response, the sound making a shiver crawl down your spine. How could just his voice make you feel like this?
"I slept fine, though I do not think I will ever get used to this morning lethargy."
You huff out a laugh in response, turning around to pull out two mugs from the cabinet above you (and to hide your flushed face). He could probably use a warm cup of tea.
The prime watches you closely as you pour water into a kettle, snapping the lid shut and settling it down on its base. You press a single button and the base lights up.
"What is that?" Optimus raises an eyebrow, settling down onto one of the few stools you have sitting behind your kitchen counter.
"It's a kettle, it's heating up the water so I can make us tea."
"And what is tea?"
Sighing, you smooth your hand over your hair with a smile.
"You'll see."
You settle against the counter next to him, looking towards the dining table as opposed to his gaze on the kitchen.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to sleep well, what kept you up?" You can't help but question, idly stroking his remarkably soft hair.
Optimus, being much too drowsy to acknowledge your touch, leans into your palm with his eyes closed.
"Thoughts, thinking. it's odd how the human brain can form just one thought then spiral into a thousand different ones. It's.. overwhelming." His brows furrow while recalling his disturbed slumber.
You can't help but frown. You're all too familiar with the struggles of sleep.
"Yeah, everyone gets those. Some nights you just can't help but spiral."
Your hand slides down from his hair, to his neck, then finally coming to rest on his shoulder.
The two of you bask in the silence of the kitchen. It was comfortable, calming. Optimus wishes this moment would never end. This was all he had ever wanted. A quiet life. The life you live. Free from war, from grief, from loss.
All those thoughts that weigh heavy on his mind, that make his chest ache, disappear with the stroke of your hand on his body. Your warm skin touching his, sliding up and down his exposed forearm. He watches your delicate fingers trace the defined muscles there.
The arm you're holding onto shifts, slipping behind you and around your waist. Optimus subconsciously (or consciously?) pulls you closer to him, his head resting on your stomach.
He's never really had a desire for physical touch. Of course, Cybertronians enjoyed it just as much as your race does, but its not as mandatory as it is to humans.
And now that he finally knows how it feels to touch skin to skin, it's addictive. The subtle burn of your skin on his gives him chills.
The small chirp of the egg timer you set for your cinnamon rolls and the kettle simultaneously go off, interrupting the soft moment between you two, Optimus was tempted to break the horrible things.
"Oh!" You exclaim, pulling yourself away from his side. His hands slip from their rightful place on your hips. He watches you closely as you slip oven mitts on your hands, opening the oven to pull out a steaming tray of fresh rolls.
Thats what he was smelling. The scent was so strong, it sends a pang of hunger into his gut, nearly making him double over.
"Hungry? The cinnamon rolls need to cool off, but we can enjoy our tea while we wait." You call over your shoulder, already ripping open the paper packet for the tea bags. Black tea, a bit basic compared to the other teas in your cabinet, but it was something you knew Optimus would enjoy. You set the steaming tree pattern mug on the counter in front of him, settling down on the stool beside him with your flower mug warming your hands.
Two plates are stacked on the counter top, covered in remnants of cinnamon sugar and icing. Your empty mugs sit beside the plates.
The silence between you two is almost domestic, you have your arms folded on the counter, your head resting on them. The warmth of your cinnamon rolls, your tea, and the atmosphere in the kitchen just makes you want to fall back asleep.
Optimus is sitting beside you. He could be staring into his mug, out the window, or at your sweet black cat as she sleeps on her tower by the staircase. But he doesn't. His eyes remain on you.
How the sun makes your skin glow, how your hair falls off your shoulders. How your chest rises and falls in rhythm with your hypnotic breathing.
The Primes heart skips a beat-(a feeling he's unsure is normal, this may have to be brought up to June..)-as you turn to look at him, the angle of your head making your eyes almost sparkle in the sunshine.
"Enjoying your morning?" You gleam up at him, eyes squinting from the bright light of the sun.
He nods. "I am. However, I have a question I've been meaning to ask you."
You raise your head, attention fully on Optimus now.
"Your uncle had called me something that I have trouble understanding. The word was.. 'Boyfriend'? I believe."
You inhale sharply through your teeth. You were hoping he would've forgotten that by now. But of course, he's still the ever observant and sharp Optimus Prime.
"Oh! Um.. well.." you turn your head away from him. Fuck, how do you explain this?
"Well, when two people love each other very much.."
A sudden blasts abruptly explodes from behind you, then a strange sound began to flood your kitchen. Swirling.. like..
"The ground bridge?" You and Optimus turn to each other simultaneously, the portal currently churning in your grandparents living room flashes as a figure emerges from the vibrant light.
Miko.
"Bossbot! Op! Optimus prime! Big emergency!"
Said Prime stands up swiftly from his stool, His long stride easily meeting the small girl halfway.
"What's happened? What's wrong?" His voice was back to that same serious, concerned leader voice. His hand on her back.
Miko slouches over, her hands on her knees as she pants to catch her breath.
"Agent.. Fowler! Wants to see.. You! Now!" She yells between gasps, pointing at the swirling wormhole infront of your television.
Shit. Fowler. You had completely forgotten to contact him about the incident. How the hell are you supposed to explain this?
Optimus sighs. He knew this moment would come eventually. It's impossible to keep anything secret from Fowler.
He turns around, ready to call to you, but you're already at his side. Your hand pats his back.
"No use putting this off anymore." You then pass the both of them, making a beeline towards the wormhole.
Miko snatches Optimus' hand and starts to run, The prime stumbles to catch up with the both of you.
The two of them hop in directly after you, the portal then seals quickly, cutting off Lua from joining you.