Author's Note: Hey there, here's the second and final chapter of this story :) It was really fun writing it! Please remember to R&R :)

The second type of love that Optimus Prime came to know was the love of a companion, of a consort, of a lover. The second type was only known to him in the later part of his life cycle, when he was barely a legal adult mech, but was still considered as one. It had come to his attention after he had been accepted as the disciple of Primus.

Orion Pax had been raised to be a bright, young, attractive mech under two very loving foster Creators, Prowl and Jazz. Once he had reached the appropriate courting age, two vorns past his final upgrade, there was a long list of suitors who had wanted his foster Creators' permission to court him. Jazz was overjoyed that their adopted Creation was so sought for, while Prowl was a little less enthusiastic about the fact that Orion was getting so much attention at such a young age. Some were mechs that Orion had met while he was still schooling at the Iacon Academy of Science. Others were mechs that he had known since childhood – some he didn't even know at all.

No matter how popular he was with the other mechs and femmes at the Academy, the person he missed the most of all was Ironhide. He still remembered the mech from his days at the Youth Sector, way before Prowl and Jazz had adopted him. They had lost contact many years ago, after the Youth Sectors' adoption center had moved to a different location. Orion had no idea where, but after that, he never wrote to or received a letter from Ironhide ever again. And it was indeed regrettable, for Ironhide was the only one of his friends who made him feel at ease, just like how his foster Creators could make him feel.

"So, who's this fellow?" Jazz turned over the container slowly, and read the delicately printed label. "Thundercracker." He raised an eye at his adopted Creation, who had nestled his helm in his lap. "So, you going to tell me about this Thundercracker guy or what?"

Orion's baby blue optics onlined. The mech, now a full nine hundred vorns old, was at the prime age for courting. His blue and red armor made him stand out in a crowd, and his gentle optics had a particular hue that no other mech had. His facial features were rearranged in a delicate manner, and Orion's smile could capture the attention of any suitor. His rims and thighs drew lots of attention, and it was something that Orion wished that he didn't have so often. The future Prime was currently lying on their oversized sofa, helm resting gently on his foster Carrier's thigh plating.

"He's okay," Orion shrugged. "He's one of the senior students at the Academy. He's one of those types – you know, the ones who always hand in their homework on time, get straight As, listen to the lecturer, never goes into recharge during lesson time, stuff like that. He's very level-headed, too. One of the most sensible mechs on the campus, if I've ever met any at all. He can be counted on to do things, and keep his promises."

Jazz arched an optic ridge, knowing that his sparkmate was listening to their conversation from the kitchen, where Prowl was currently stuck with doing the dishes. "He sounds good enough for you. The two of you would make a perfect fit, you know, since you're both so obsessed with academics." He studied his adopted Creation. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's boring," Orion complained, burrowing his helm into Jazz's stomach, turning over his body. "And he's very quiet. He hardly uses his vocalizer, and if he talks it's just concerning the current subject matter or homework task that has been assigned to us. It's not that I don't like him – I just find that we don't share a common interest. Besides academics, of course. Anyway, there's nothing much to talk about regarding our studies."

Jazz smirked, stroking his Creation's helm, amused that such a childish gesture would be coming from a young, full grown mech. "He sent you your favourite rust sticks in a nicely decorated box, and you turn him down. Never anyone good enough for you, is there?"

"It's not because of that. They like me because of how I look. Nobody ever likes me for who I am," Orion pouted, and Jazz sighed, running a finger down his cheek plating like how he had done hundreds of vorns ago when Orion was still a sparkling.

"It takes time to find the right person, sweetspark," Jazz murmured. "I'm glad you always take time to think about the situation, and not rush into things. Just take your Sire and I, for example. We knew each other for about fifty vorns before we decided to get bonded. It started off slowly, at first, but once we got to know each other, it went fine. A good first impression of your suitor is very important, of course, but it's not always everything. I thought your Sire was a grumpy old thing when I first met him, but look where we are today."

"I heard that," came the barked reply from the kitchen, accompanied with the sound of running water.

Jazz rolled his optics at the retort, and turned his focus back to his grown-up sparkling. "Whoever you choose, though, expect to bring him home for dinner one day. Your Sire and I will definitely be pleased to meet your intended." A smirk, and then, "Just make sure he's drilled and prepared for the upcoming interrogation that your Sire will give him halfway during the dinner."

A soft chuckle came from his adopted Creation, and Orion gave that brilliant smile of could light up the whole of Iacon.

"Take your time and choose slowly," Jazz continued, entangling his fingers with his Creation's. "He doesn't have to be perfect, but make sure he's decent, loyal to you, and that he loves you for who you are. And you'll have to get your Sire's approval before you proceed. Understand?" He grinned as Orion nodded his helm obediently, and laid a soft kiss to his Creation's cheek.

Orion was eventually transferred to the weapons department of the Academy, half a vorn after he had graduated. The Academy had requested for him to come back and work as a lecturer – he was one of their most treasured alumni, having gotten a perfect score for his graduating examinations and his overall academic record. He would teach weapon assembly, his forte, as well as weapon maintenance. Being a junior lecturer, he was assigned to work in pairs due to the lack of inexperience. Currently, he was seated at the opposite end of the Academy's dean's desk, doing a quick briefing with the dean himself.

"Your partner did not graduate from the Academy," the dean informed him, a large 'Bot named Ultra Magnus. "He recently moved from Kaon to Iacon, upon receiving this job offer to be a lecturer. He's a prodigy regarding weapons. He's even designed some of his own in his spare time, and is currently in negotiations with big companies for the patent. Unfortunately, he lacks experience regarding teaching. You, on the other hand, have taught a couple of classes before graduating, am I not wrong? You have a little experience in that field. The two of you will help each other for the first half vorn of your teaching career. After which, you'll have enough experience to teach individually."

Orion nodded. "If I may ask, Sir, when is our first class?"

"Your first class will be tomorrow afternoon. The two of you will be teaching the junior batch in the Academy. I trust you have been informed on what part of the syllabus you will be covering?" At Orion's nod, Ultra Magnus continued. "I wish you all the best for your first lecture tomorrow. A senior lecturer will be coming to see how you do, of course." The door to his office opened, and Ultra Magnus' vision snapped from Orion to the towering mech standing at the doorway. "Here he is."

The mech at the doorway looked vaguely familiar. Orion studied him for a moment, his optics going from the mech's foot pedes to his helm, trying to remember where he had last seen that jet black paintjob. Or those piercing ice-cold optics, or his handsome facial features. Or perhaps, the bulked mass. This mech was definitely bigger than him! And yet, Orion also felt strangely comforted in his presence. His CPU was scrabbling at his filled databanks, trying to find out where he had seen this mech before. Their visitor bowed slightly towards the dean, a respectful gesture to Ultra Magnus, before stepping inside the room.

"Orion, I'd like you to meet your partner, Ironhide."

Those words nearly stopped Orion's spark. "Ironhide?"

"Orion?" The black mech's optics snapped their focus to him. "Orion Pax?"

Orion's dermas curled upward into a smile. "It is you."

"The two of you know each other? Great! I will abstain from introductions then. Now, the class schedule for the both of you is as follows - tomorrow afternoon's class will be on weapons upgrading. As for the day after that…" Ultra Magnus droned on. The two mechs gave him their attention, although they couldn't help but steal glances at each other intermittently. Orion's spark was singing. Ironhide was back, the mech who had always comforted him when he was going to cry, had protected him when he was in fear of being bullied, had offered a kind word and bandaged up his knees when he fell. Those days back in the Youth Sectors brought a smile to his dermas. Everything was going to be fine. The mech who liked him for himself was back. He couldn't wait for this briefing to be over, and then they could catch up on everything that they had missed – imagine what Prowl and Jazz would say!

They had waited until the dean had dismissed them, and they had gotten a reasonable distance from his office before starting to speak to each other again, unable to contain their excitement.

"I can't believe I'd see you here," Ironhide began, dental plates glinting in the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through a window as he smiled brilliantly. "I thought I'd never see you again after the Youth Sectors' adoption centers moved."

"I couldn't write to you," Orion agreed. "But how did you…I thought the dean said you moved from Kaon to Iacon…?"

"I got adopted a few groons after you did," Ironhide explained, happy to talk to Orion again. "Right after the Youth Sectors' adoption department shifted, I got adopted. My foster Creators were really nice, but my foster Sire got a job offer in Kaon, that was why we had to move from Iacon to Kaon. A few groons back my Sire got a promotion, but he had to be stationed in Iacon if he wanted to be promoted, so we moved back here. I got the lecturer job offer back when we were in Kaon and preparing to move, so I accepted the offer, since we were moving back here anyway. But to think I'd meet you here…"

"How are things going for you? I can't wait to see what my foster Creators would say if they saw you again! They saw you once or twice, right before they adopted me, remember? I've always told them that I missed you, and right after the Youth Sectors moved we've been trying to contact you, but to no avail. You must come for dinner tonight, I believe we need to get reacquainted with each other."

"I agree, but if I come for dinner tonight, then you really need to come see my house tomorrow. We just moved in, and there's lots of stuff that's unpacked but it's really quite nice. Did you hear anything about the other mechs in the adoption centers? Did they get adopted?"

"I know Blackout and Swindle got adopted, because I still keep in touch with them. I'm not so sure about Airachnid, though, but I know Bumblebee and Barricade were adopted together. Oh, did you hear about Perceptor and Drift's case? They say that…"

Both mechs started chatting merrily, walking down the hallways of the Academy as Orion proceeded to give Ironhide a tour of the facilities. Ironhide seemed oblivious to the stares and glares that he got from Orion's envious suitors, and in turn the only mech that Orion paid attention to for the rest of the day was his friend.

Prowl and Jazz were equally exultant and surprised upon discovering that Ironhide and Orion had finally met up with each other. They treated Ironhide as if he was a family friend and not another pesky suitor. When he came over for dinner that night, there were none of Prowl's interrogation-style questions, but casual chatting across the table. And, for once in a very long time, Orion was very, very happy.

"Is it still painful?" Ironhide pressed an audio finial to Optimus Prime's flank.

"You bet," the Prime grumbled. "It's only been three groons, 'Hide. He's not going to move so early."

"How do you know it's not a 'she'?" Ironhide countered, shuttering his optics and trying to concentrate. Nope, there was no sound or movement coming from his sparkmate's swollen gestation chamber. "Slag it. Maybe another time, then."

Optimus chuckled softly, a rumble coming from his vocalizer, and he leaned back, resting his helm on his sparkmate's chassis. "It's fine, 'Hide," he murmured, as Ironhide leaned down to press a kiss onto his dermas. "Our sparkling is perfectly fine. The only thing that's unsettled is its name."

The two mechs had quickly settled down after they had sparkbonded. Prowl and Jazz had certainly approved of Ironhide courting Orion – and Orion had earned the Matrix not long afterward, bestowing him with the title of Optimus Prime. Their living quarters that they had bought was positioned right next to Prowl and Jazz's, so that Optimus's foster Creators could come and see their foster Creation any time they wanted to. Now that Optimus was with sparkling, they came over nearly every orn to see how he was doing while Ironhide went to work at the Academy as the head lecturer.

"Yes, but it's still a cause for worry. Speaking of which – did you get enough sleep today? And did you remember to refuel in the morning? Did you –"

Silencing his sparkmate with a long and deep kiss, Optimus smiled when the kiss broke, brushing his fingers lightly across Ironhide's dermas. "Yes, yes, yes, and before you ask, no. I did housework today."

"You're not supposed to do the chores," Ironhide pouted. "That's my job. You're supposed to get enough rest and sleep, and refuel often, and let me handle everything else."

"Ironhide, I'm not crippled, or wounded," Optimus laughed, his rich voice filling their living room. "I'm just carrying. Anyway, my Sire and Carrier helped me when they came over to check on me just now. It's nothing to worry about, 'Hide. Besides, you come home every night tired, and since I'm on leave anyway, I might as well do something, right?"

Ironhide sighed. "All right – but if you feel tired, or if there's pain, go to bed immediately and –"

"…call you," Optimus finished, tracing his fingers along his mate's cheek plating. "Yes, I know. You've been telling me that every night since I've got sparked, 'Hide." His white dermas flashed in the moonlight seeping in through their large balcony. "You don't need to worry so much. It's just carrying. Lots of mechs carry, and deliver uneventfully."

"Even so," Ironhide groused. "But it's better to be safe than sorry, huh?"

Optimus rolled his optics, but smiled. "That isn't going to stop me from doing work as and when I deem fit, 'Hide." One look at his sparkmate and he knew Ironhide was going to complain again, so the Prime pressed a finger to his dermas. "But I promise you, if I feel anything…wrong, I'll be sure to stop immediately and get you."

Ironhide paused, and then shrugged, as if that reassurance was enough, and then nuzzled his sparkmate. "Okay, recharge. You're not supposed to be up this late and I've got to go to work tomorrow. Ultra Magnus wants to meet with all the lecturers and professors in the morning to talk about some hierarchy thing."

Optimus agreed with the statement – he was very tired, and the sparkling was practically draining all of his energy away. Sitting up slowly, he took hold of Ironhide's hand and guided the mech to their berthroom. Ironhide worried, yes, but that was because he loved Optimus and his unborn sparkling.

That came to be the second type of love that Optimus Prime came to know, and he would bask in its glow for as long as his lifespan lasted. Was there a third type of love – one that he could not receive, but give, instead? He did not know, but perhaps he would when their sparkling was born.

~The End~

A/N: Please R&R :)