It takes all he has to keep from giggling. He can’t seem to get in the proper mindset, despite all the prepwork he’d done beforehand. There’s only so much one can learn from a datapad, you know. Especially the technical manual that Chase had slid into the stack when he thought Blades wouldn’t notice.
Anyway, yes. Blade is having trouble focusing. Because there Heatwave is, paying attention to Blades. Full attention. And he’s not being mean or yelling or telling Blades what he did wrong.
He’s just waiting. Waiting for Blades to take command.
“Um. So.” Blades taps his fingers together. “I guess I should just go ahead and start.”
“Any minute now, yeah, that would be great,” Heatwave replies, a touch of frustration in his voice. Though Blades had to give him credit. He hasn’t gotten growly yet.
“Hey!” Blades plants his hands on his hips. “I’m the one in charge here. Well, I mean, technically you’re in charge, but I’m supposed to be taking care of you and–”
“Blades,” Heatwave interrupts with a gentleness to his voice that Blades rarely gets to hear. “You’re overthinking it. You’re going to do fine.”
His face heats. “Okay.” Blades shutters his optics and cycles a deep ventilation like Boulder taught him.
“Okay,” Blades repeats and looks down at Heatwave. “If you want to stop, just say stop.”
Heatwave nods. “Yes, sir.”
Oh. Oh, Primus.
Blades swallows down another nervous laugh. “And, um, put your hands behind your back. Keep them there.”
Heatwave obeys, his optics following Blades with patience. It’s like he’s become another person, taken on a role. Like an actor in one of Cody’s movies.
And finally, it clicks. Blades understands. He thinks, yes. Yes, I can do this.
“Good,” he says, not Blades the Rescue Bot, but Blades the Dominant whom Heatwave trusts. “Very, very good. Now we can start.”