His footsteps caught your attention - too sharp, too heavy. Optimus entered your room differently than usual. There was no usual poise in his movements - only a stern determination that cut the air.

You looked up.

"Optimus?.. What happened?" — your voice was full of anxiety. You had never seen him like this - compressed like a spring, with this cold shadow in his optics.

He didn't answer. He didn't even slow down.

His massive shadow covered you as he approached the bed. The next moment, the surface sagged slightly under his weight - he fell on top, his face was dangerously close to yours. Hot breath burned your skin.

"Optimus!" — you almost screamed, leaning back in surprise. — "Say at least a word, what's going on?..

But he didn't answer again. Instead, his lips slid down to your neck, greedy, demanding kisses leaving fiery trails. His palms, firm but careful, slid over your body, as if searching for every inch, every line, and pressed you closer to him.

You felt your spark beating so loudly that it seemed he could hear it too.

“Optimus…” — your voice was shaking. — “Usually… I’m first… Why are you now?..”

He pressed you harder to the bed, silencing you with a kiss on the lips. Deep, powerful, so that your head started spinning. His fingers dug into your hips, making their way, leaving a tremor in their wake. All this time - not a word. Only silence, breathing, movements.

It was as if he was dissolving in you - and at the same time struggling with himself. You caught his optics - there was a fire burning there, but with it, there was darkness.

And only when the tension reached its limit, when he had already brought you to trembling and was on the edge himself, he finally spoke - low, hoarsely, with an order that sent shivers down your spine.

“Spread your legs.”