Title: Humor of the Situation
Author: akisawana
Genre: Porn and angst. I'm so glad when they come together like this.
Disclaimer: Anything not recognizable from Hasbro is probably cribbed from somewhere else. Unless it's crap, in which case it's mine.
Warnings: I really do not want to own up to what I just wrote.
Notes: This is why we do not use explosives to teach Fireflight to pay attention. Unbeta'd. I need a porn-reading beta.
Summary: Skywarp gets lucky. Then Air Raid gets lucky.
"How ya feeling, wingnut?" Air Raid asked when Fireflight finally –finally onlined.
"Alright," Fireflight said slowly. "Except…I can't feel my legs."
"Well, you don't have any at the moment. Ratchet has to build new ones."
"Oh. What happened? I don't really remember."
"Skywarp got a Sidewinder right up your afterburner. Hit your fuel tank," Air Raid said, serious like he never was. "You almost died. You should be dead." He squeezed Fireflight's hand, so hard it hurt.
Fireflight squeezed back and smiled at his brother. "But everyone else is okay?"
"Slingshot ate dirt, but he's fine. And Silverbolt had a heart attack when we found you. But other than that, we're good. Ratchet won't let them into the medbay."
"But he let you?"
"Sideswipe showed me the back door." Air Raid smirked and winked, and Fireflight giggled.
"Ratchet won't be happy."
"Only if he finds me. Brought you something." He handed it to Fireflight.
"My Gameboy! Oh, Air Raid, you're the best!" He tried to hug Air Raid, but couldn't get the leverage to get more than halfway.
Air Raid pulled him up, careful of the thick fuel line Ratchet had hooked to an external tank and hugged him. "Just don't scare me like that again, wingnut." He offlined his optics, but still could see the orange-red fireball his brother had become, the chunks and debris falling like terrible rain.
It had not been fun.
"Hey, it's alright. I'm okay," Fireflight said, nuzzling Air Raid a little. Air Raid didn't let go, just held his brother close until all the sick tension drained out of him. Scraping Slingshot off the ground had been kinda funny, and keeping him and Skydive distracted had kept it from really sinking in, but as Silverbolt made Slingshot go recharge so his self-repair could have time to work, and then Skydive had picked up a book, and then Silverbolt himself had been called off by Prowl…
Ratchet had said it would be a miracle if Fireflight survived the journey back to the base alone. There had been so many pieces, but that wasn't the problem so much as all the fluids he lost, all the lubricant that was no longer keeping his gears from locking up, all the coolant that kept his systems from overheating and melting. No fuel tank to hold energon and near a thousand miles for Skyfire to fly back from the test ground in Bumfuck, Nebraska. Slingshot was the only one Ratchet would let ride; he wasn't going to make it back by himself anyways, so he got to donate a good portion of his fuel to keeping Fireflight running until they got back to base. Air Raid had sped ahead, but all that accomplished was longer to sit outside the medbay and wonder what was going on in there. Sit there and hear the little voice running through his processor, Silverbolt's voice, "you were supposed to be watching his back you're supposed to take care of him you're supposed to look out for him one of these days you're going to be too busy chasing whatever insane idea's popped into your head and be careless and it's not you that's going to be hurt it's going to be him and it will be all your fault…"
Silverbolt was going to kill him, as soon as he got over being relieved that Fireflight wasn't dead. The Concorde hadn't said a single word to him, hadn't even looked at him since Ratchet came out and said Fireflight was probably going to live. He didn't say whether the red jet would be all right. Silverbolt had just nodded, and when Ratchet left, said something to Skydive, too quiet for Air Raid to hear.
Air Raid had taken the opportunity to flee. He knew it was his fault, and he didn't want to hear how he had nearly got his brother, his wingmate, his best friend killed because he was too intent on shooting Starscream out of the sky to keep track of anything but the Air Commander. Skywarp hadn't even had to warp to get behind Fireflight, just outmaneuver him, and everyone knew Fireflight flies like a rock.
Something else Air Raid was supposed to help him with, but somehow never found the time for in between Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Dinobot and helping Sideswipe practice Jet Judo.
No, this whole slagging mess was his fault, and he'd thought to go to the rec room and get so wasted he couldn't remember his own name. But he'd bumped into Sideswipe on the way, Sideswipe who of course knew what happened, everyone within a hundred miles had seen the Fireflight fireball, and Sideswipe knew what it was like to have a brother lying alone in the medbay.
So Sideswipe had let him in, after a quick detour to grab Fireflight's new favorite toy as a peace offering, and Air Raid had waited for what felt like hours. Not silent hours, oh no, Primus wasn't that kind, but hours of listening to the beeping of whatever the hell Ratchet had hooked up, and the slow steady hum of the external fuel tank sitting where Fireflight's left leg should be because Fireflight didn't have one of his own anymore.
"Air Raid," Fireflight was saying into his neck, "you awake?"
"Yeah," Air Raid said, not letting go. "Yeah."
"You pulled a me," Fireflight giggled. Air Raid didn't really see the humor, but Fireflight was more inclined to the thousand-yard stare than the hysterical giggle-fits, so he figured there was some in there somewhere.
"Sorry," he said.
"S'okay." Fireflight didn't seem to be too eager to leave Air Raid's lap, for which Air Raid was profoundly grateful. He didn't want to let go. "Did Ratchet say how long I'm grounded?"
"A good while, since I guess he doesn't have a lot of the parts he needs. But he said they wouldn't be too hard to get." Actually, what Ratchet said was that he was just going to get someone to buy him an F-4 and cannibalize it from there. "Plus however long it takes Silverbolt to let you out of his sight."
"He always worries so much," Fireflight groused. "I don't see why. I got you watching my back." When Air Raid didn't say anything, he added, "Right?"
Air Raid managed a strangled, "Yeah."
Fireflight pushed himself around to look Air Raid in the face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Air Raid said, resting his hands on what was left of Fireflight's hips.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm good."
Fireflight didn't really believe him; he could tell by the way one silver hand came up from his shoulder to reach up and scratch gently behind one of the triangles on his helm. "Kitty-ears," he called them, after the human pet, and humans showed cats affection just this way. "C'mon, Raider. Tell me what's wrong." Fireflight even threw in his best pleading face.
Air Raid was helpless against the face, but most mechs were. "You almost died," he said. "I got you almost killed."
"But I didn't die," Fireflight said in that maddenly calm way. "I'm right here." He took one of Air Raid's hands and pressed it over his chest, over his spark. "It's okay." Under Air Raid's hand, Fireflight was solid and warm, and not dead.
"I'm sorry."
"I forgive you." Fireflight smiled at him, sleepy serene smile that said he found having to say it unnecessary, but if it made Air Raid feel better that was what was important. He slid his hand down the back of Air Raid's helm and pulled him closer, kissed him gently. "I forgive you," he said again, and started kissing down Air Raid's neck.
Air Raid tilted his head, half-curiously, half to give Fireflight better access. "Flight? What are you doing?"
"Kissing you all better." Fireflight nuzzled against Air Raid's shoulder and began to trace some unknown pattern across his chest. His thumb found the vent of a fan that was beginning to turn over, and he stopped there, making a tiny happy noise as the air blew over his dermaplating. Air Raid ran a hand down Fireflight's fuselage, and the ret jet made another one of those noises, right against his audio, before kissing him again.
Well, Air Raid could take a hint. He tightened his grip on Fireflight and laid him on the berth, then arranged himself carefully around the wires and the fuel tank and the ragged edges of Fireflight's wings. Fireflight's arms tightened around Air Raid's shoulders for a minute. "You alright?" Air Raid asked, pulling back and sitting on his heels.
"I'm no t allowed to hug you anymore?" Fireflight pretended to pout at him. Then he smiled, and opened his arms. "I'm alright," he said. "Lemme show you. Don't be upset anymore. Please."
Air Raid didn't say anything, but he leaned forward again and pressed his mouth against Fireflight's shoulder, where it opened to take his arm in alt-mode. Fireflight automatically stuffed his other hand into his mouth to stifle his gasp, but Air Raid heard it anyways. He worked his way
inwards with soft little nips, more like kisses than bites, and anticipation made Fireflight moan around his own fingers. As soon as he could without clunking Air Raid in the side of the head, Fireflight's free hand came up for a handhold, right on a seam that flared to life like a particularly pleasant firework.
"Oh!" Fireflight twisted up when Air Raid's mouth found the edges of the door covering his landing gear. Air Raid kept his weight balanced on his palms, pressed flat to either side of Fireflight's head, as he traced the edges of the door with his glossa. "Air Raid, please!"
"Please what?" Air Raid asked, cycling a little breeze out his vents to blow over Fireflight –Fireflight had the most delicate sensors of them all, and Air Raid loved the not-so-little sounds he made when they went off. He licked the seam of the door again, just to hear Fireflight mewl.
"Don't stop!" Fireflight damn near shrieked, wings twitching. Air Raid wanted to run his hands along them, to feel them shudder under his hands. But the way Fireflight was arching them off the berth made him think that would hurt Fireflight more than anything. Instead, he rubbed his face against Fireflight's chest, feeling the rumble of his turbines speed up.
"Quiet, wingnut," Air Raid teased, close enough to kiss his plating twice. "You're going to wake Ratchet and then I'm going to have to stop." He sing-songed the last word, drawing it out while shifting his weight to one hand and his knees. "Unless you want me to?" He grinned up at Fireflight.
The sight was one to save for the memory banks. Fireflight's optics were bright and deep, his hand futilely trying to cover his mouth and stifle his cries but failing utterly and his fingers held just the barest dents where his mouth had closed on them hard. "Don't stop," he begged. "For the love of Primus. Don't stop!"
"I won't." Air Raid tugged Fireflight's hand away from his face and kissed him. He brushed his free hand against the other door set in Fireflight's chest, the one that covered the port for Silverbolt's left shoulder. The port that connected him to Superion. It was hot against Air Raid's fingers, cooling fans not cycling fast enough and coolant mostly rerouted to keep his turbines from burning up altogether. Fireflight whined and whimpered in his mouth, the sounds enough to make Air Raid's whole frame shiver.
Maybe it was because he was so physically exhausted, maybe it was because he was missing a good half his sensory net, maybe it was because Air Raid was especially fantastic that night, but Fireflight lost control when Air Raid's knee accidentally bent up his aileron. The familiar tweak –it never failed to get a reaction from any jet –and Fireflight was screaming as he overloaded, holding on to Air Raid like his life depended on it. Air Raid held him close as he overloaded, felt Fireflight alive against his chest.
The humor of the situation is Slingshot is no longer the shortest Aerialbot. Couldn't quite crowbar that in. Questions, comments, concerns, confessions?