Rabid plotbunnies nibble at the oddest times, and for some reason this one just will not go away until I write it. Gift-fic for two friends who have noticed the distinct lack of Aerialsmut, so I hope y'all like it! :-D
Continuity: G1, AU, War Dawn MUSH. Though it's AU even for that. Ohhhhh well. (Check us out! http:: / shinystuff. us / wardawn / /Main_Page )
Rating: M. Very, very M.
Pairing: Silverbolt/Fireflight/Skydive/Air Raid/Slingshot, past Silverbolt/Fireflight, past Silverbolt/Motormaster, past Silverbolt/Starscream, past Silverbolt/Fireflight/Starscream (Bolt's been a busy jet!)
Warnings: Sticky 'facing, sparkmerging, energy fields, violence, something that some might call dubcon (it isn't, but it's not nice), gestaltcest, Starscream's dirty mouth, PnP, tactile, electricity as an interface aid, and strange themes. Also, plot? What's that?
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just enjoy making them do perverted things.
Silverbolt sat in the Aerialbots' hurriedly-cobbled together quarters at the Flight Academy of Vos and his wings twitched. Since being abruptly thrown into the past, he'd had far too much time to think and reflect. His brothers spent much of their time training with the Seekers, which gave Bolt a vaguely uneasy feeling...but he didn't forbid it. He felt that would be wrong, because the Academy, in itself, was a great idea. Their formation skills were far inferior to the Decepticon forces of their home timeline, and the training would do the team a lot of good, particularly Skydive with his talent for aerial tactics.
Just because it was ran by those who were to become their sworn enemies some nine million years later meant nothing. Nothing at all. Or so Silverbolt tried to tell himself when he saw his brothers being led through formation drills by Skywarp or Thundercracker.
That's where they were now, drilling. Silverbolt had managed to avoid flying with anyone but his gestaltmates by several means, because he'd be damned before he'd admit his fear in front of *them*. So Bolt was alone with his thoughts, laying back on a pile of cushions with slippery-smooth covers that brushed across his wings without snagging. He briefly touched the gestalt bond, finding his brothers to mostly be enjoying themselves, except for Slingshot; he apparently had been reprimanded for recklessness. The dark knot of his annoyance was very evident in the emotional connection. Silverbolt smiled slightly; finally, somebody else got to see a little of what he went through.
Silverbolt sighed. What he goes through, indeed. Very confusing and strange and even a little off-putting to have Starscream, of all mechs, seeking his attentions and then some. It hadn't started that way; it had actually been Flight's idea to begin with.
Silverbolt's faceplates heated at the memory. Fireflight had began molesting him in the washracks, *right in front* of Starscream, and they'd apparently decided to doubleteam him right then and there. Silverbolt shook his head. It's not that he didn't enjoy it..but *Starscream*? A cold-sparked murderer who'd tried to kill him more times than he could count? Logically, he knew that *this* Star was not yet the one he'd known in his own short life. Not yet. But...
Silverbolt bit his lower lip. Thinking about the situation had brought back memories...
The washracks were warm, far warmer than normal, but that was probably because Silverbolt had Fireflight sucking on his lower lip, cables connected, while Starscream knelt and licked his port cover while keeping a steady stream of incredibly dirty (and stimulating) words flowing from those full lips. Silverbolt's mind kept telling him "No, you idiot, this is the *Decepticon Air Commander!*" but then Fireflight's field snapped against them both, and he couldn't deny his brother what he wanted. Or what he was actually curious about, a little...but he'd never say that, and kept it out of his EM field and the gestalt link.
When Starscream looked up at him and purred, "I want to ride you, Bolt, with your hands on my wings, slamming me down." Silverbolt felt a mixture of 'wait, what?' and 'ohhhh frag'. Shortly thereafter he had the Seeker sliding down his spike, Fireflight grinding down on Starscream while they transmitted their pleasure through the link...
Silverbolt shook his head and his wings twitched, hoping that none of that had leaked into the bond. The only one who knew what he'd been doing (as far as he knew) was Flight, who teased him incessantly, even while they were 'facing. At least he only did it when they were *alone*...
"Flight." Silverbolt's tone was patient, mostly.
"You're remembering again." Fireflight giggled. "I can tell. Feeling guilty even though it's only 'facing."
Silverbolt sighed, running his thumbs over Flight's wing edges, which drew a breathy little cry from his brother. "It's not that, really. It's difficult to explain..."
Fireflight's lips found a sensitive spot right below Bolt's audial, and he licked it teasingly. Silverbolt gasped loudly, almost drowning out Flight's words. "He's fun and stuff, Bolt. Nothing wrong with it. And it feels nice to share." Fireflight proceeded to kiss and lick almost every inch of Silverbolt's frame, carefully avoiding interface panels, both hardline and traditional.
"Haven't done *this* in awhile, Bolt." His lips almost vibrated with charge, his energy field licking across Silverbolt's in a slow crawl that tingled every sensor that Flight touched. He mouthed Silverbolt's wings, a long, hard suck on the tip, and Bolt bucked up into his brother, wordlessly pleading for more. Flight merely smiled mischievously, and his hands slid up and down his wings like one would stroke a spike.
Silverbolt twitched on the soft cushions, wondering why his processor was centered on interface, of all things. The very subject embarrassed him to no end, stealing his words and causing him to sputter and quickly change the subject.
/Except while you're DOING it./ his processor helpfully reminded him. Silverbolt's thoughts sent him going off in a completely different direction, one that caused his cooling fans to kick on quite against his will.
The mech was over him, slamming into him deliciously hard and fast. That modified spike was /big/, more than enough to stretch Silverbolt in all the best ways and first brush, then impact with the sensor cluster right near the top of his port that drove him to distraction. He tried to keep silent, but quiet moans escaped him anyway...and the mech above him practically begged Bolt to tell him, to look at him, to feel. When he lifted his leg over his shoulder and slammed into that node, Silverbolt felt the world tilt, and electricity arced from his fingertips onto the Seeker's wings, causing Starscream to live up to his designation and call out wildly, Silverbolt's name on his lips.
Silverbolt's systems were...revved, to say the least, after recalling that particular memory. He bit his lip /hard/, trying to keep his charge out of the gestalt bond. He hadn't meant to leave his electrostatic battery active, but Starscream had practically begged him to.. a fact that was pretty disturbing but led to memories of another Decepticon, one whose name Silverbolt tried not to even think.
The storm was heavy, and the rain fell in sheets so dense that visibility was nearly at nothing. They were on Earth, midcombat, and a lucky shot from Dead End had grounded Air Raid for at least an orn and disabled him enough that merging into Superion was impossible. Silverbolt was on the ground, really trying to avoid flying high enough to go over the storm.
The trees were sparse, and lightning struck one about fifty feet ahead of him, making the wood explode and briefly lighting the area, revealing a large black form with crimson optics that burned in the darkness. Silverbolt felt his spark freeze in place. Motormaster.
"Look what I found," he says, the threat in his voice quite evident. "Boltbrain. Slagheap. Big and st-"
"Won't you just /shut up/?" Silverbolt tried to keep his voice bored, his tone even, but between the storm and his presence Silverbolt felt quite...peculiar.
"Make me." Motormaster was, of course, not in the least intimidated. Silverbolt contemplated running, because he knew he'd never be able to fly in this weather, and then it was too late.
Silverbolt found himself flat on his back, wings striking the ground painfully, covering their pale expanse with mud and fallen leaves.
"I can shut YOU up." Motormaster then did the unthinkable; his lips crushed Silverbolt's in a mockery of the kisses he shared with his brothers. He struggled; of course- the unfamiliarity of this, Motormaster's hand wedged between Silverbolt's thighs, grinding where not even /he/ had explored.
Silverbolt gasped out, "What the frag are you doing-" before his lower lip was captured, drawn in, and bitten just this side of painfully. Motormaster found the manual release to his valve cover and retracted it, and Silverbolt's backstrut arched high. "I...never-"
"Shut UP, Seeker wannabe."
Silverbolt's optics narrowed at this and he gathered the storm, through his hands into the mech pinning him to the muddy ground. Motormaster howled in something that was /not/ pain, and his spike sprang free, burying itself in Silverbolt's virgin port in a single brutal thrust, renting the jet's hips and causing him to literally scream, the charge uncontrolled and running through him into his enemy. He threw his head back, secretly loving this, taken so fully...
Silverbolt's vents heaved and his valve was soaked just at the memory of his first time, even though it was with- No, he wouldn't THINK it, because his brothers were home, and he was charged...
Skydive snickered. "Bolt, I felt that halfway across Iacon."
Fireflight just had /that/ look in his optics, and he was pressed close to Slingshot, who had a smirk on his face that could light Iacon.
Air Raid simply draped himself across his commander's lap and looked up. "Want you, Bolt."
All of them nodded. Silverbolt's lips quirked in a grin- they hadn't renewed their bond since being displaced, and he knew that it'd be good for everyone if they did. Being the largest, Silverbolt simply reclined on a pile of beanbag pillows, his brothers following him in various states of arousal and disarray.
Fireflight grinned and dove toward Silverbolt's spike cover, giving it a teasing series of licks that made Skydive moan in appreciation. Air Raid slid sideways, kissing Bolt hard, as Slingshot lined himself up behind Flight to pin him between himself and their commander. Silverbolt gently fingered Raid's port, teasing nodes and sharing the feelings through the gestalt link.
/Sparks?/ someone asked. /After./ another promised.
~fin~