Wishmaster: We don't own, so don't sue

Wishmaster: We don't own, so don't sue. Just played with them a little and saved some of the happenings fer our collective enjoyment!

Xobit Prime: well we own the smex

Wishmaster: oh yeah! Right...good point there! we kinda do...

Xobit Prime: yeah! ... can it be called the jucie parts when it involves mech sex?

Wishmaster:...no, I don't think so...but we could call it the smoking, smoldering, smelting parts if we wanna put name to our claim of ownership!

Wishmaster: and never forget the glowing and sparking and sizzling and...

Xobit Prime:... your nasty... me likes XD

Wishmaster: well it was part a the job discription ya know? 'Nasty medic wanted on ship full of femmes', so I happily applied

Xobit Prime:... wow that sounded soooo porn like (giggles insanely) okay this is almost but not quite PWP

Wishmaster: second that

Xobit Prime: yeah the story not the A/N... well maybe the A/N too

Wishmaster: probably and I'd say as an additional warning fer the story...uhm...is over energizing compatible to drug use?

Wishmaster: cuz one a 'em does get slagged beyond reasonable

Xobit Prime: i guess it is sooo... warning fer mech drunkenness or highness

Wishmaster: alright, all warnings out then?

Xobit Prime: post it or they'll kill us

Wishmaster: awww...but me looooove keepin' 'em in suspense...'pouts'

Xobit Prime: true... is fun... but then ya will get ya revenge no?

Wishmaster: my revenge?

Xobit Prime: let them read and all will be revealed

Wishmaster:...'doubtfully'...o-okay

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Charged

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He emptied the...was it his sixth or his sevent cube of high-grade already? Ratchet just couldn't remember it, apparently his processor had decided not to keep up with how many energon cubes he'd be depleting tonight, but that was just as well, because then he couldn't berate himself for the exact amount the next morning.

Entering the rec-room a battle wary Magnus hurried to the dispenser and gabbed three cubes of mid-grade energon. He wanted a quick meal and his berth. Pit! He hated being a leader… every decision he took seemed to send mechs to the med bay, he almost stumbled when he turned and caught a glimpse of Ratchet out of the corner of his optic. The CMO never came into the rec-room unless there was a party. Turning his head back he registered the slumped form and the empty cubes in front of it. Immediately worry kicked in and he forgot about his own wariness. Walking over to the CMO he asked carefully:
"Hey Ratchet… Mind if I sit with you?"

His scanners hadn't even registered the approaching form of Ultra Magnus, so he must have had at least nine cubes of high-grade already. He knew from experience that he could register any and every move of any and all mechs up until his ninth cube...
"Ask the chair if it'll mind to carry your weight and if it doesn't complain, I guess you could...", he mumbled, not looking up in greeting like he usually did, instead he reached for another full cube of high-grade. Now he was glad that he'd been, at the very beginning of this high-grade-session, thoughtful enough to make two stacks of cubes, one for the good ones and one for the empty ones.

Not good… Ratchet wasn't even looking at him and he kept right on drinking. Putting down his own energon he seated himself at the table, inwardly musing on the best way to get the medic talking… talking! Not yelling or throwing things around. Reaching out he took a cube and swallowed a sip, all the while watching the drinking mech before him. He knew Ratchet as well as anyone did, but what did that really mean? They had served together on and off for eons and he couldn't really say they were close friends… he wanted to but he couldn't. Ratchet never let anyone in close, other then Prime, his fellow medics and maybe Wheeljack and Perceptor. But here and now he was all the help the medic would get!
"Why are you trying to drink the Arks entire stock of high grade? Alone I mean, I'm sure Jazz would love to help you out!", joking didn't come naturally to him and still it was worth a try.

Registering that the other officer was talking to him took him an astrosecond or two, looking up from his high-grade took another, processing what he'd said another two or three and coming up with a response took him three entire astroseconds. He knew then that he was wasted beyond anything he'd ever managed to accomplish before and he cheered for himself internally.
"Because I want to get wasted, which I've got a good chance to accomplish better than I've ever managed to before and Jazz isn't here because I'm greedy enough to want it all for myself.", he dead panned and was a little proud of himself at the clear speach his vocalizer managed to produce. Even wasted beyond anything a sane mech would call tolerable he could give qualified answers to complex questions, it just took him longer to voice them than it would if he was sober.

It took some time for Ratchet to answer him and the answer didn't make a lot of sense, he considered his next question but ended up just asking:
"and why do you want to get wasted?" it was perhaps unwise Ratchet was known for his temper, but on the other hand the mech was wasted and trying to get it out of him without asking directly… well slim chance, very slim. So he asked and braced himself for the possible explosion. The medic was an enigma to him, had always been… he couldn't understand his reactions. He seldom had reason to visit the medbay, unless he was in stasislock, which is why he did not see that much of him. Actually only when he delivered damaged mechs after a mission and then Ratchet was always angry, yelling about stupidity and unnecessary damage.

Thinking over it his processor unfogged slightly and the vivid image of a battleground popped up. Todays battle had reminded him of a decidedly dark chapter in his career as a field-medic and he would rather not remember it. Groaning he let his head slump forward onto the desk upon which he'd staked the high-grade, which he intended to deplete further and soon at that.
"Don't remind me.", he asked of the other officer and just reached for a new cube, throwing it into the back of his open mouth and processing it instantly, fogging his processor back up a little further, but not as badly as it had been before. He couldn't be becoming tolerant to the stuff this fast now could he? If so he'd have to patch up his own brand further...

Considering his options he eyed the slagged medic, all his calculations showed that he would fall into recharged as soon as he hit a berth. He got to his feet putting his last two cubes into his subspace pocket along with some of the high grade ones the medic was guzzling. He effortlessly dragged the smaller medic up from his seat holding him to his side with an arm around his chest section.
"Come on your sleeping in my quarters tonight", ignoring any and all protests he dragged him out of the rec-room and into the lift punching the controls to bring them to the officers deck.

Trying to fight Ultra Magnus for his freedom proved to be fruitless, so he decided to assault his audio-receptors to regain said freedom.
"Let go of me you petro-rabbit bitten tin can!", it only earned him an eye ridge raised in surprise, but not his freedom. He was still pressed against the other mechs chassis, his left arm draped over his torso, holding him close to steady his steps, yet his feet were barely brushing the ground. Ultra Magnus wasn't dragging him along after they stepped out of the lift, but more like carrying him at his side.
"Let go! I can walk on my own and I do not require to be carried like an injured Sparkling!", he protested with renewed vigor and started to scratch at the plating at the back of the mech with is right hand, his left was still clutching a cube of high-grade he'd intended to swallow in one go just like the last one.

Making sure he had a good hold on the squirming medic he thought, 'Well, well Ratchet is certainly a vocal drunk!' After the first surprise he decided to ignore the name-calling, inwardly laughing at the fact that Ratchet, in his drunken stupor, seemed unable to come up with anything more creative then tin can. The squirming was slightly annoying so he lifted him a bit more as he exited the lift, when Ratchet started grousing again he began laughing, the laughter however quickly turned into a choked whimper when, seemingly in anger, Ratchet began clawing at his back armor. He was tempted to just dump the medic on the floor, but considering his slagged state he couldn't be doing it on purpose! 'Primus help me! Remember give him the benefit of the doubt he might be the CMO but he can't possibly know what he's doing!!' biting back a moan as digits brushed over some of his most sensitive pressure nodes, he nearly crushed the lock pad on his quarters door. With dogged determination he got the code punched in, the door opened and then he did dump the medic inside the quarters, turning around to activate a time lock.
"Okay you!" he looked down at the medic and pointed to his berth "get on that and go into recharge!"

"Why should I listen to you officer? I am perfectly capable to make decisions for myself on my own!", he shot back and demonstrated just that, by raising his left hand and downing the cube of high-grade in one go. He had clung to it in his struggles and with that he had carried with him to Ultra Magnus quarters, a fact the other officer didn't look all too pleased about. Ratchet just grinned smugly and rejoyced in the slight fog that now covered his processor, making him forget that just today he had again been splattered in another mechs processed energon, working with his arms deep in said mechs chassis and only barely managing to halt his off-lining process...His whole frame went utterly still, just sitting on the floor and staring into the empty cube in his hand. He had done what he shouldn't have done, he had thought about what it had been he wanted to forget, bringing it out of the fog and enabling it to torment him further. One of these days one of his patients may not be so lucky...it was a constant threat to lose mechs in a war, yet Ratchet could proudly state that very few had ever died on one of his berths...not a single mech under his care had died since the war had started. It couldn't cheer him up though, it had been far too close today...
"Maybe not the best thing to do.", he mumbled and let go of the empty cube. Struggling into a standing position proved to be difficult and he felt his internal balance was so off-key that if the task proved to be this difficult for an astrosecond longer his processor would be overwhealmed enough to order the expell of washer fluids. Ratchet was a very privat mech and no one had ever seen his optics leak fluids before and he certainly intended to keep it that way! So he reinforced his struggles, yet only managed to end up falling, faceplate kissing Ultra Magnus feet, back onto the floor.

Still struggling with the arousal Ratchet had unknowingly created in him, he strived valiantly for patience and ignored the words coming out of the Medics dermaplates. He had a harder time ignoring the… cheeky behavior and felt like asking him if he had deliberately reverted to sparklinghood. The medic was acting really strange… at least Magnus thought he was, he really couldn't say maybe Ratchet did this all the time. Then the Medic went still, completely still even his faceplate froze, he mumbled something inaudible and dropped the empty cube onto the floor. He was about to snap at him when the Medic tried to get up, and failed utterly. Staring in confused shock, it took him a couple of astroseconds before he bent down and hauled him up. Tired as he was he used a bit more force than necessary and ended up stepping back against the door as Ratchet's weight hit his chest plate.
"Pit! I'm sorry Medic… slaggit I'm too tired for this…" he leaned back against the door, still holding Ratchet, off-lining his optics and cursing the event's of the day from the bottom of his spark casing.

The fall or rather the following connection of his frame with the floor hadn't hurt him per sé, at least he wasn't damaged, yet it had triggered that slagged washer fluid expell Ratchet dispised so much. All he wanted to do was run away and hide himself in the deepest and darkest part of the universe for the rest of his functional time, yet he wasn't even strong enough to struggle against Ultra Magnus when said mech picked him up and crushed him against his chest plate. His equilibrium was reeling and his processor was fogging up again.
"...let go...", he uttered in a, to himself, frighteningly weak and broken sounding vocalisation. All he had wanted to do was drown in high-grade, it seemed as if now he would drown in humiliation instead...the universe could be a real bitch at times...

As the broken voice reached his audio receptors, surprise made him on-line his optics and take a good look at the mech in his arms. He had no idea what to do, he could deal with anger, resentment and cheekiness… but sorrow? What was he supposed to do here? One good thing, the sight of the fluid trails on Ratchet's cheek plates squashed his arousal, more effectively then anything else could possibly have done. He shifted his grip and carried the mech to his berth, sitting him on it rather awkwardly. Kneeling down in front of him he decided to apologize, even if Ratchet was too slagged to remember it after recharge at least he would have it off his spark!
"Listen… I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing bringing you here. But I could see that you were hurting and… drowning hurt in high grade, it's just not a viable solution…" Slaggit! He sounded like a-a… he had no idea what he sounded like but this wasn't what he had been aiming for.
"…I'm really sorry! I'm much too tired for this and… I'm going to let you recharge now." apparently he couldn't say anything the right way, better to just shut up and let the Medic be. He got to his feet and turned from the berth.

He felt Ultra Magnus shifting his grip on him to carry him to the recharge berth, he felt...beyond himself. Ratchet wasn't a femme and felt like yelling at the officer again, yet he just kept quiet instead. When he was placed on the berth, he averted his optics in embarassment and tried to wipe away that darned washer fluid, but it just wouldn't stop leaking...
"It's the only solution I've ever found to help.", he countered.
"I should be going, your right. You need your recharge.", he amended and stood up from the berth shakily. Trying to get to the door proved difficult, but he'd onlined stubborn and he sure as the pit would offline that way too, so he'd stay stubborn in this also and if it was just to keep the habit.

Turning again he grasped Ratchets shoulder.
"Hey! No you're recharging here tonight Medic, whether you like it or not… besides I've put a time lock on the door and if push comes to shove I'll ask Metroplex to seal us inside until you have had a decent recharge!" Okay, it was a low blow, but somehow he didn't want the medic to be alone right now… and if that meant he would have to duck a few more wrenches in the future so be it!
"I'll leave you alone on the berth, and recharge in my office chair, now lie DOWN!!" He used his command voice on the last word, not that he expected it to work but maybe… opening his link to Metroplex he politely asked him to not open his quarter doors unless someone would die with out Ratchet there, a slightly amused affirmative answered him.

"Alone on your berth? HAVE YOU BLOWN A GASKET YOU SLAGGED OUT MAIN FRAME GLITCH?!", he hollered at the officer. As if he couldn't take care of himself! It was laughable, yet he was right, his last real recharge had been a few orns ago...but that didn't mean that he could just take command over him. Or rather it didn't mean that he had to follow said command! Shrugging off the hand on his shoulder proved to render him off-balance, yet he managed to grasp Ultra Magnus waist in his fall, dragging him to the floor with him and trapping the mech underneath his frame, preventing him from getting up again.

Going down under the medic was not something Magnus had expected to happen, his thoughts ran along the line of 'Well this was awkwa… nice? Uh oh', his engine purred at the full chassis contact and the desire from before slammed into him with a vengeance. As the medic shifted on top of him to get off, he had to off-line his optics and gave some creative prayers to Primus for the ability to hold on! It had been far too long since he had last had company on his berth, grating his dermaplates he tried to grasp and still the squirming medic. He just couldn't get a hold of anything and tried to slide his hands over armor plating until he found something to grasp, he was so focused on getting the medic off before he betrayed his arousal that he didn't notice Ratchet's reaction at all.

At the purring of Ultra Magnus engine he stilled for an astrosecond in wonderment, then he tried to get off of the officer, because he was confusing him. His optics were offline, so he wouldn't be able to trace his way, if he managed to escape now, yet the officers hands were faster on his chassis then he had managed to partially sit up on the others legs. Hands brushing all along his chassis were something he hadn't expected to happen tonight, otherwise he never would've downed that many cubes of high-grade. It was a well-kept secret of his that his sensor nodes became hyper sensitized from high-grade and no one had ever managed to use that fact to his advantage, because no one had ever known. Ultra Magnus on the other hand seemed to be using it to his advantage without knowing and the feedback his sensor nodes sent to his main-processor had Ratchet reeling on the inside. 'Too long...far too long...wont last...', was all he could process, before his spark flared and he nearly chocked on a moan he couldn't hold in any longer.

The spark flare was unexpected and undid his resolve, his hands gently curled around whatever armour they were touching, the tips of his left digits digging into a leg transformation seam the right ones into one of the major seams on Ratchet's back. It would have been nice to be able to say he knew what the pit he was doing to get such a delicious moan out of the medic; he didn't however since his own spark made its agenda known! It flared as powerfully as Ratchet's had just done, making his back bow up off the floor. He actually whimpered desperately, running his left hand up Ratchet's leg carefully keeping his digits from hurting the smaller mech. He sounded entirely wrong as he stuttered out his apology.
"C-can't ssstop meDIC! Uhhh... f-f-finissssh IT!! P-Please!?" His spark made it quite clear he was telling the truth as crackles escaped it along with his second flare.

Feeling his processor split in pleasure was always disorrientating for him. One part would 'go to sleep' so to speak, while the other part was focused on overload alone. He didn't process the fact that he was on top of another officer, his spark flaring and already registering the build up of energy crackles within the others spark. All he could focus on was the output of his sensors. The digits digging into his transformation seams and running along his armor were more arousing than anything he had ever experienced before and he knew then and there that the others plea wouldn't be in vain. Couldn't be in vain, because he wouldn't be able to draw this out, his spark needed this overload as much as Ultra Magnus seemed to and he was glad he could obey while getting what his spark wanted at the same time.
"If your asking so nicely!", he purred, leaning down over the others torso and bringing their dermaplates together, his hands resting on the others chest close to his spark, energy crackles travelling over his hands, up his arms and to his spark, which sent out it's answer with a magnificent flare and a burst of energy crackles that snapped clear through the air into the direction of the other spark it sensed there. Ratchet had barely enough control of himself left to lower his torso a little to let the energy crackles pass directly to and from their sparks, while arching into the stroking hand on his back at the same time.

Ohhh Primus… even his lust foggy processor picked up on the change in tone, the medic was practically purring and the flare following it had him digging his digits further inside Ratchets transformation seams pulling him down to his chest. Ratchet himself was already moving down and the combined effort had their chest slamming against each other, the direct contact intensified his next flare and the output of spark crackles. Wrenching his dermaplates from Ratchet's he half snarled "come on then!" and licked along the medics faceplate teasing the delicate seams located there.

Ultra Magnus fierce exclamation of sheer want drove him on and so he traced his hands, which had been previously splayed over the others torso, over every armor edge he could reach. Only ever slightly brushing along the internal wiring, he moved them up to the others vocalizer. A mechs vocalizer usually had a most delicate structure and he expertly managed to use that to his advantage. Stimulating the sensor nodes around it with hard strokes, he caused them to spark by just running his glossa over the outer armor protecting them. Yet he threw that out of the proverbial window once he felt Ultra Magnus glossa on his face. He offlined his optics to enforce and enjoy the touch further. All he could do was moan in pleasure, his spark flaring wildly, energy crackles travelling only a short distance now, slamming into his spark with barely less energy than he charged his own with. Their overload was imminent and Ratchet tried to further their pleasure with one last, almost desperate joining of dermaplates and glossas. That way they felt every moan, every sigh, every expletive and every struggle for a grasp of a little countenance. They would all be in vain of course, yet they were the most delicious just before overload...

This was the best he had felt in a long, long time. He wasn't usually underneath, because of his lager chassis and weight he was careful of his lovers. He kept control of his overloads, never letting go entirely… but this time he wouldn't be able to do that, it had all started so unexpected. He sucked on Ratchet's glossa a deep moan vibrating his shout box, hunger burned brightly in his processor and his spark flared almost continually now a never ending stream of bright crackles crawling over their frames. He shifted one of his hands up to the back of Ratchets helmet, carefully massaging the seams around his audio receptor, hoping to get as strong a reaction out of this as he had gotten from licking the mechs face seams.

The sensual caresses were nearly undoing him, yet he was a medic and unwavering in his sheer stubbornness. He would cause Ultra Magnus to overload before him! Or at least with him, if those digits knew how to do what they were doing quite efficiently right now...Moaning in pleasure became a constant output of his vocalizer and he thrived to achieve the same. He let his glossa trail over the walls of the others shout box, pushing at them and trying to make them retreat to rub directly on the wiring beyond. Instead he sent his digits underneath the heavy battle armor the other was wearing, teasing data wires on their way and stimulating sensor nodes to ensure a chaos in the others processor. Their spark flares were so constant they seemed like a line with only minimal dibs in between. Overload was fast approaching and Ratchet wasn't at all sure if he was ready for it...

Feeling that the energy built up had reached its breaking point, he wanted to take the medic with him and so shifted his grip again. The downside of being bigger then your lover was the difficulty of getting to sensitive wires, the up side was that he didn't need to be inside a seam to make the sensor nodes go nuts all he needed was to apply the right amount of pressure, the mech that had taught him how was a long time in his past. Running his hand down Ratchet's back he did just that teasing every node he found, down the thigh ending up pressing his digit tips into the back of the knee. That got a reaction and what reaction! He held on to the back of the medics helmet as his frame bucked against his own, it was enough to set his overload off and it was powerful enough that he was lost to the world within seconds! It had been a long time since his last overload and even longer since his last real overload… he screamed into Ratchet's mouth, unable to hold back anything in the face of this overwhelming pleasure.

His processor was in chaos, data streams easily overflowing it and the sensor nodes on the back of his thighs had quite the direct line to his CPU as well...Trying to press deeper into the caressing hands, he jerked at the sudden pressure applied to the back of his knee joints. He'd never known they could feel like that! Ultra Magnus spark crackles were drawing his own spark crackles in, in an attempt to connect and Ratchet's processor went white. He felt the vibration of his shout box that the officer created, yet he couldn't move at all to reciprocate anymore. He'd reached his limit, energy crackles running all over his chassis, encompassing all of his systems and sending his armor tingling pleasantly at the places it connected with that of Ultra Magnus...and it was quite an expanse of connected armor space...Not even high-grade could make him feel like this and he wondered if he could fill a cube with the officers spark crackles to take them with him after they both resurfaced from their recharge...

He came back to his own chassis slowly, all his systems clamoring for him to recharge, with a heavy and very much in recharge medic lying on top of him. He couldn't help laughing quietly and giddily, who would have known that something like that was hidden beneath the 'fury of the medbay' as the twins had called him. He began to carefully shift him to one side so he could get up and get them to the berth. It proved easier then he had thought, however lifting the medic was not! And he just barely managed to get him up on the berth surface, not to mention his own bulk. By that time he was so tired he didn't register his next action, he enfolded the smaller mech in a hug pulling him to lie more or less underneath him in a protective cage of arms, chest and legs.