Never let it be said that I don't give Airachnid her fair share of love, and then some. This little ditty was one of two requests from the wonderful Emmy-16 (via deviantArt), who also made some lovely fanart for my Soundwave/Airachnid fics 'Getting Results' and 'A Branch of Toxic Mistletoe'. If you liked those fics, I highly recommend that you check the art out ;)
As with the fic, Knockout/Airachnid seems to be virtually non-existent so I was ecstatic to be requested to write about this couple. Rated M for some saucy suggestive content and whatnot.
xx
Knockout never really paid attention during these tedious conferences, briefings, and other mandatory meetings. Before it was because Megatron was- for lack of a better word- boring. Typical with bosses. He never knew when to stop his glossa running off, and when Knockout helpfully reminded him of the far too slow passing of time he was thanked with a new dent in his chassis. Gladiators never did appreciate the importance of timed beauty regimes.
But now it was because of her.
It didn't help at all that Airachnid liked to place herself in front of Knockout, and every now and then a back leg would twitch and almost scrape his metal. Still, at least he got a nice view of them. Slim and spiked and oh so entrancing... they reminded him of himself. Just thinking of all the hard-to-reach places he could get to with a pair of those. He'd finally be able to give his back a proper buffing.
Oh, and of course their owner certainly wasn't one to be dismissed.
Knockout certainly wasn't a fan of the jet form that most Decepticons chose. Too focused on practicality and aerodynamics: they wouldn't know what style looked like if it shot itself through their spark chambers. Flying was so overrated anyway.
But somehow, through some mystic combination of angles, curves, colour and geometry, Airachnid pulled it off. Was it that she didn't require such bothersome wings for flight? The dips of metal that outlined her abdomen and continued down to the points of her legs? The reason may not have even been purely aesthetic, though Knockout severely doubted it. Her personality was sadistic at best- no wonder Megatron let her back in without so much as a 'where the Pit have you been while we've been slowly rusting to death?' Two of a kind, though Airachnid was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. He could see it in the tension wreathed between her cables, shoulders high and servos crossed stiffly. A pointed ped was oriented to the side while the other was straight and facing forwards, a common trait that was supposed to make the expressor look more confident than they actually were. Knockout had seen Starscream adopt such a stance many times before- no surprise, he was even doing it now (though with an increasingly grating tap of his peds.) For once though, Knockout couldn't blame him. With the recent loss of the Polarity Gauntlet, just one slip-up could mean punishment or even exile for anyone who was in Megatron's sights. And that meant anyone.
"The rest of you will remain here and continue your usual duties," Megatron droned when Knockout eventually tuned back into what he was saying. "Apart from you, Knockout." The red in his optics grew wider in surprise, and his form instantly straightened as if his energon prod had been stuffed up his aft. "In addition to your regular workload, I am assigning you to watch over our recent addition to the Decepticons while myself and Starscream are absent."
Well doesn't this day just keep getting better. Knockout didn't even know if that was to be used sarcastically. Quite frankly the whole thing was making his processor ache and he had far better things to do with his time other than spark-sitting a terrifying techno-spider abomination.
An abomination with fantastic legs.
xx
"Must you keep leering over like that?" Knockout snapped at Airachnid hovering opposite him. Seperating them was a medical berth that held an Eradicon who was inches away from death- both metaphorically and literally, considering Airachnid. The open spark chamber was dull and fading, even with the mass of wires and tubes feeding into it in a futile attempt to keep it alight. Usually Knockout conducted his surguries in solitude, preferring the efficient company of his sawblade to anyone who might get in the way. But there was nowhere else to place his new scuttling responsibility and he certainly didn't trust her to walk the Nemesis halls herself, so the only option was to suffer her presence- a very distracting presence- while he tried to get some work done. Not that there was any work to do now.
"Excuse me for wanting a front row seat to the show," Airachnid purred, leaning over the berth and supporting her head with a fist at her cheek while her other servo prodded at the Eradicon's limbs. Any other medical professional would have blown a gasket and went off on an endless moral rant at hearing such a comment. But Knockout was anything but a hypocrite- after all, there was a measure of enjoyment to be had in tearing through metal and pulling apart energon-splattered chassis'. Oh yes, he long suspected that sadism was as much a part of the Decepticons as death and lies.
"Would you kindly stop touching the cadaver, you...you..." Knockout couldn't even think of a name for her as her optics snapped up and captured his own. The pink lights were arched and paired with an infuriating dark smirk. As if she was daring him to spit whatever he may have said out. He shook his helm in frustration, breaking the spell and line of contact. "At least keep a respectable distance, you creature," he muttered, keeping his head down and away as he wiped his hands stained blue with a thick layer of energon.
"Whatever you say, doctor," she said coolly as she sauntered over to the far side of the room. With her back turned and siren gaze diverted, Knockout could safely rotate himself around. Swish, swish, swish went the gorgeous legs... he was certain that Airachnid was keeping them unfolded just to see him try to ignore them. So thin and spindly, how did they even support a whole protoform?
"My optics are over here, doctor," Airachnid pointed out as she sat herself on an empty raised berth, leaning back on her servos and bending her primary legs into an upside down V.
"Do you always give names to your comrades?" Knockout asked, busying himself with cleaning his tools and preparing the corpse for recycling. Eradicons and Vehicons came a dime a dozen, it was never an issue when one eventually died from battle wounds or some petty confrontation in the drone ranks. Just dump their form in the incinerator and melt them down into a new body. The spark, however, was were care was needed. Drone sparks were unique in that they were still technically 'functioning' even after the death of their carriers. Of course the spark would eventually expire if kept in the body, but if stored and transplanted correctly it could live on in a body that was at least similiar to the original's. The reborn drone would retain their memories and experiences through the transplant process, which made each one harder to kill than the last. An ingenious concept, if he did say so himself. Which he did. Because he was just that good.
"Only when I develop a little connection to them," Airachnid replied, crossing her legs over and inspecting one of the razor ends of her spider appendages. "And as my appointed guardian for the time being, I'd say we have quite a knowledge of each other." Knockout only grumbled in acknowledgement, still avoiding her stare. Whether Primus or Unicron made her, did they have to make her so damn intoxicating? Maybe that wasn't the word... Beautiful? Of course. Deadly? Also obvious. Insidious? Yes, that would do.
In the time he had spent going over his vocabulary and inner word choices Airachnid had sweeped back over to the side of the berth and looked down into the scarred spark chamber of the Eradicon. The delicate sphere of energy was still smoldering dimly, and Airachnid even had the audacity to lift it out of the chamber and into her talons. In an outburst of shocked gasps and stuttering Knockout made to grab the thing out of her hands before she eventually damaged it, but Airachnid easily ducked out of his reach, laughing at the twisted expression on his faceplates.
"Now now, Knockout. You said it yourself; was it not my fault that you lost the life of the drone? Surely then that makes his spark my property?" Airachnid said dangerously, caressing the pulsing ball of energy with optics narrowed.
'Damn her to the Pit...' Knockout had, as a throwaway remark, muttered something about 'distracting spectators' making proper work near impossible. "And might I ask what someone like you would do with a barely living spark?" he asked carefully, servos crossed and red optics meeting hers even as his legs trembled beneath him in a mixture of unease and frustration.
"I'm sure I'll find a use for it..." Airachnid answered cryptically, tracing the thin rays of energy that radiated from the sphere. "A new trophy collection would be nice..."
"I'd heard about your little gallery," Knockout commented, wires loosening suddenly as the residual pink fire in the spider's optics died down somewhat. "Such a shame it was lost..." Airachnid hmphed in agreement, still appraising the spark that rested in her hands. Stealthily he sidled next to her, just narrowly missing the erratic movements of her back legs. Not that he would have minded a scratch from one of them... Well wasn't this dandy, not only was he stuck with temptation-on-too-many-legs, he was breaking character. Fan-fragging-tastic.
"Even so, it wouldn't be proper for you to not gain something in our little trade..." Airachnid purred, lifting a back leg to Knockout's chin while a free hand grabbed his outstretched wrist. The tips of her fangs poked out from beneath her lips, the corners of which were turned up poisonously.
"And since when did you care about being proper?" he queried through gritted dental plates, struggling against Airachnid's grip on his wrist.
"Even Decepticons can be ladylike, Knockout," she answered, idly rolling the glowing spark in her other hand while the razor holding the mech's chin stroked along the metal teasingly. 'I don't know if she's trying to kill or molest me... though, the latter wouldn't be too bad...' Knockout's faceplates soon resembled Airachnid's own smirk at the dark thought. Her optics narrowed in contemplation of his dazed expression, lost in the depths of his murky mind. On him it was almost cute. Almost.
"Well, you certainly are the most ladylike among us," Knockout commented with a wayward lowering of his optics. The rush of heat that went through her at that moment confirmed what he had suspected. The most handsome and the most beautiful...it was fated to happen, and Knock Out for one didn't have any qualms with what destiny itself had directed. Maybe if he kept telling himself that it would come true and he could continue without the minute feeling of nervousness that kept gnawing at his spark. 'This is no time to be playing Robo-Casanova, you idiot. She's dangerous, she'll claw your glossa out before you can get it inside her! What would Megatron say, Pit, he'll be pistoned just for losing the drone spark-'
'Oh do shut up, you killjoy.' Ah, now there was a voice that he could follow. And follow he shall.
"Now, the only question that remains is what could be of equal value to a spark..." Airachnid murmured close to Knockout's helm, snapping him out of the three-way inner conversation that was clouding up his processor.
"You seem to have an idea of what the answer would be," Knockout's voice had noticeably dropped an octave and turned silky at the closer proximity of the exotic femme. A knowing chuckle rumbled past her vocaliser and Knockout swore he could feel the air rippling between them.
"Perhaps..." Her body shifted even closer, lips still smirking and spark still held hostage behind her back, where her legs had partially folded in but not entirely sheathed. "But what would I know," she said mockingly, suddenly lurching backwards and throwing Knockout off balance. "I'm just a creature-"
"And I'm the doctor," Knockout interrupted with a mischevous grin, meeting Airachnid's optics with a new well of pure confidence. All of a sudden he liked where this was surely going. "And doctor's orders are to be followed."
"I'm a disobediant patient," Airachnid said playfully, tucking the sphere behind a drawer tower of metal, poising herself seductively on the nearby desk that she seated herself on.
"Who said you were a patient?" Knockout slowly approached her, optics lidded and mouthplates fixed in an anticipating grin.
"Ooh, does that make me the naughty nurse?"
"I see you've been reading up on the human culture."
"Only the interesting bits." Knockout was standing over her now, hands on slim hips and cooling fans working into overdrive to stave off the increasing internal heat.
"You know, I don't think Megatron will condone having a possible new soldier life taken from his ranks," Knockout mentioned bringing his faceplate down to meet Airachnid's, whose back legs had connected to the wall behind her for support. "You'd have to offer something quite impressive to persuade me to take the rap."
'They're so adorable when they act hopeful...' Airachnid thought in amusement of Knockout's blatant advances. Still, she could do a lot worse than him. By the Allspark, from the looks of things, she couldn't possibly do better.
"Oh, I have something in mind that is sure to satisfy both of us," Airachnid answered, her voice dripping with sinful promises that caused Knockout to growl in his building lust. "I think for now though, this will do." Only when he felt the moist invasion of his mouth did Knockout realise that Airachnid had pulled him forwards towards her waiting lips, eager glossa gliding across his denta and twirling through. His own glossa eventually joined in when he had fully realised the situation, and it took all his remaining willpower not to moan out loud.
Sounds weren't necessary to attract visitors though.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" The intimate exchange was halted by a sudden shriek of disbelief coming from the med-bay doors.
"Well, look what the cyberfox dragged in," Airachnid said bitterly as Starscream looked like he was in the middle of a processor meltdown. Knockout as well didn't look too happy at being interrupted.
"Oh do calm down, Starscream. You act as if you've never seen a kiss before." Granted, it wasn't so much a kiss as it was glossa sex but from the looks of things, Starscream would have exploded at the enclosure of any more details of what he had witnessed.
"B-but you and-and her a-and the-the mouths!" Starscream stuttering the same thing over the next two minutes was enough to prompt Knockout to get his buzzsaw out.
"I'm sure a quick lobotomy will fix that glitch you have, Starscr-"
"No no no, that won't be necessary, Knockout. Really," Starscream protested with a wave of his digits, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. This was the last thing he needed today; just one disaster after another. Now he'd have to watch out for Megatron and this pair. As he made to exit the med-bay, the new couple shared a glance.
"Well, now that the intrusion, has gone..." Knockout began smoothly with a roll of his shoulders. "I think we can get back to-"
"Ah ah ah, Knockout," Airachnid put in, holding the retrieved Eradicon spark and right in front of the rear med-bay entrance. "That was just a taster session." An absent lick of her lips only increased Knockout's lingering lust. "If you want the full run, you'll have to work for it." And on that declaration of personal war, she left with a wave of her free talons.
Knockout was left in yet another daze. He wondered if what had just transpired was real... he could taste something sweet and foreign on his glossa, so something happened. His optics whirred into a new focus, and only then did he remember the Eradicon carcass still sprawled on the berth far behind him. The energon had dried into a crust and it would take forever to clean out. A forever that would be plagued with unsatisfied thoughts of Airachnid.
'That little swindle.'
Oh. There was the name he was looking for.