Serendipity
Author's note: I really don't know why stories like this keep coming to my head. If you aren't up for cross-faction bondage type slash, you probably want to hit the back button before your brain melts…
Serendipity(n)- the gift of accidentally finding valuable or agreeable things. Merrium-Webster Dictionary.
This wasn't the first time that Perceptor had been kidnapped by the Decepticons.
However, at that time Megatron had been their leader, and although he was cruel and manipulative, he was, to an extent, predictable. For instance, the last time Perceptor had been kidnapped to cure Megatron's cosmic rust, had fixed him, and had been infected himself and sent home strapped to a bomb in order to infect the other Autobots with the disease. Standard Megatron procedure.
He knew this time would be different. Now the Decepticons were commanded by Galvatron, who was every bit as cruel and manipulative as Megatron had been without the "flaws" of sanity and predictability. The only thing keeping him from running the Decepticons into the ground in a manic fit was his lieutenant Cyclonus, who would have no problem letting Perceptor feel the brunt of Galvatron's insanity this time. Although (and Perceptor shivered at the thought), Cyclonus was much more skilled at torturing prisoners and would probably be Perceptor's "host" for the evening, as it was Cyclonus who had captured him.
What information the Decepticons could possibly need from him even Perceptor's highly skilled processor could not fathom. Although he was the head Autobot scientist, he was not working on any top-secret energy-developing projects at the moment, although the Decepticons wouldn't know that. He did know some sensitive Autobot information, that was true, but Ultra Magnus certainly did as well, and he had been right next to Perceptor when the microscope scientist had been captured. True, Perceptor probably had been an easier target than the warrior, but Cyclonus never had any qualms about taking him on at any other time and certainly would not hesitate to capture Ultra Magnus if it came to needing Autobot information, or a hostage.
Perhaps he was having an off day…, Perceptor thought wryly, a sardonic smile flashing quickly across his face. It soon vanished, however, when Perceptor heard footsteps in the darkness. He tried to turn his head to see who was coming, but his arms, held above his head by chains, severely impeded his sight. He did not know who it was, but he could guess, and his guess was confirmed when he heard the noise of an electro-whip firing up in the darkness.
Perceptor decided to take the jet by the thrusters and spoke to the darkness. "What do you want from me, Cyclonus? What information does Galvatron require?"
Cyclonus' words surprised him, both by what he said and the fact that he had spoken at all. "Galvatron does not know that I have you here," Cyclonus rumbled. "I captured you for my own purposes."
The wave of relief that Perceptor felt when he heard Galvatron was unaware of his presence here turned into a shiver of fear as he wondered what Cyclonus could possibly want from him and why he hadn't told Galvatron of his prisoner. Or perhaps it was a ruse? True, he had not seen Galvatron on the battle field, so what Cyclonus said could have been true. But what was so secret that he could not tell Galvatron?
"Oh? And what are those purposes?" Perceptor quired, speaking into the darkness with more bravery and composure than he felt.
Perceptor could just hear the smirk on Cyclonus' face as he spoke. "You shall learn that soon enough, Autobot," Cyclonus intoned smoothly.
Perceptor heard Cyclonus raise the whip and braced himself for what was sure to be a painful shock, but was surprised when the lash struck the wall by his abdomen, sending mere tingle through his electrical systems. Surely Cyclonus didn't miss…?
Perceptor did not have time to ponder this as the next strike barely missed his head, sending another almost-painless jolt through his systems. Was Cyclonus toying with him, as a cat from Earth would toy with a mouse, playing with it, letting it think that it was safe, almost letting it escape before moving in for the final kill?
As this strange not-quite-torture continued, Cyclonus' blows grew less and less random and landed closer and closer to more sensitive parts of Perceptor's body. Perceptor began to worry again. Surely now Cyclonus would begin hitting his now overly-sensitized body in earnest, the whip inflicting more pain than possible at first. Perceptor's spark contorted in terror. Surely that was his plan, but for what purpose? Cyclonus has not yet demanded any information of him, and usually would not have gone this much out of his way to indulge his sadistic nature.
Cyclonus' purpose became clear when the next strike landed inches from Perceptor's spark chamber. Despite the situation, the tendrils of electricity seeping into his spark caused Perceptor to let out a small moan. Even more surprising was the pleased, almost feral growl Cyclonus let escape at this sign of the scientist's pleasure.
The barely-missing almost-lashes of the whip disappeared, replaced with the tips of the whip dragging just barely over the sensitized nodes of Perceptor's body. Perceptor writhed, trying and failing to comprehend Cyclonus' purpose in this, but slowly starting not to care and berating himself for that.
With the last dregs of his self-control escaping him, Perceptor opened optics that had been closed all this time and lifted his head to look at Cyclonus, who now stood close enough to him that Perceptor could see the harsh light from the crackling whip reflected off of Cyclonus' sharp features, revealing his feral grin and his burning red optics.
Perceptor lowered his head again in shame as the whip continued to trace his frame, along the insides of his thighs, up over his spark chamber, and lightly over his neck. "Cyclonus," Perceptor asked, the name turning into a moan, "Why?"
Hearing his name spoken in such a way, the Decepticon lieutenant's cold demeanor of self-control fell. Cyclonus dropped the whip and pressed himself against Perceptor, needlessly pinning Perceptor's wrists to the wall and mouthing along his neck. Perceptor let out another low moan and pressed his smaller frame into Cyclonus in return, the miniscule part of his processor still functioning properly feeling ashamed at giving in so easily to one of his mortal enemies. "Why?" Perceptor breathed again softly, more to himself than Cyclonus.
"Because," Cyclonus growled out in a strained voice, giving no other explanation for his completely illogical actions. Maybe Galvatron's insanity really is getting to him, thought the coherent part of Perceptor's processor.
As Cyclonus worked them both up to a final overload, this part of Perceptor's processor continued to ponder the conundrum. Maybe Cyclonus just felt the need to be dominant, in control for once. Perceptor imagined that Galvatron probably wasn't a very submissive partner. Likely, Perceptor had been in the right place at the right time (or the wrong place at the wrong time) when Cyclonus had finally decided to do something about it. There was nothing more at work here than Cyclonus' serendipity.
Cyclonus' hands digging into Perceptor's wiring brought the scientist back from his hypothesizing and launched him into overload. Irrationally (but had he been rational for any of this?), Perceptor moaned his captor's name in his ecstasy, and, more surprisingly, heard Cyclonus rumble his name in return.
All-in-all, Perceptor thought as he felt Cyclonus offline against him and felt himself about to do the same, maybe he was also the serendipitous one.