6/21/13 - This story takes place in Season 3 of TF:Prime, right after Smokescreen gets his new blue paint job. The plot bunnies would not leave me alone on this one...I was up all night working on it. I hope you enjoy. It's my first TF fic. *Yawn* time for bed :3
Toxic Love
"I know, Optimus, but what do you want me to do? With Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack raiding the Decepticon mining party, and Arcee and Bumblebee out with the children for the day, there's not much I can do. I've been scanning the local area for any trace of him, but he's just vanished. It's been eight Earth hours as of now. He's far too inexperienced to be out on his own with that Predicon on the loose again." Ratchet's tone was far from happy. Once again, Smokescreen had left the base in a huff, feeling that he could contribute more to Team Prime that what Optimus and the others were allowing for one so young.
"I understand your concern, Ratchet. Smokescreen's disappearance has greatly troubled me as well. For now, I'm afraid Agent Fowler and I are detained until the human leaders are fully satisfied that it was the Decepticons, and not the Autobots, that raged war against Jasper. It may be quite some time before I return. In the meantime, it would be wise of you to continue your search until the others are able to aid you."
Ratchet sighed, "Yes, Optimus, I understand. I'll be sure to do all that I can. Ratchet, out." Click!
He closed the comm link and rubbed his sore optics. A millennia of helping track down wounded Cybertronians during the Great War and he had trouble locating one juvenile Autobot on a planet of fleshlings! He hated to admit it, but if only the human Rafael were here, he might have an easier time. Humph…humans and their ritualistic end-of-the-week outings…
He decided to widen the computer's search to outside the cities' limits. Jasper, Nevada, wasn't a terribly big town, but it was practically, "in the middle of nowhere," as the young human, Jack, put it. Smokescreen could be anywhere.
Bleep, bleep, bleep!
Ratchet's head snapped up. Smokescreen's signal, finally! But…no…..it couldn't be. "Vector Sigma!" he said in disbelief.
The red and white ambulance stared at a silhouette of the Decepticon ship, unknowingly hovering over the hidden Autobot base. But Smokescreen's signal was coming from inside the ship! Leave it to the little blue bot to find himself in trouble like that…again. Ratchet knew he had to at least try and contact Optimus.
"Ratchet to Optimus. Ratchet to Optimus. I have located Smokescreen. Requesting immediate assistance." He waited a few seconds. "Optimus!" Nothing but static.
Slamming his fist down on the console, he knew it was useless contacting the Prime until the he and the humans had reached negotiations. He was just about to try reaching the other Autobots when he nearly jumped out of his armor plating.
A loud rapping came from the entrance to the base. Being camouflaged, it was highly unlikely that a Decepticon knew where the entrance was, unless…somehow they had got the information out of the young bot. A cortical psychic patch would do the trick, that's for sure.
Glancing back at the screen he noticed Smokescreen's signal was no longer inside the ship, but right outside the base. No other Con signals were around. In case of a Decepticon trap, he grabbed his welder out of his med kit. Not that it would do much good in an attack.
Cautiously, Ratchet pressed the button to open the soundproof doors. A low, metallic groan came from outside. "Smokescreen? Smokescreen, if that's you…"
Bright blue optics emerged from dark tunnel. "Uhhhhh….hey doc…." He managed a weak smile as he collapsed into Ratchet's arms. The shocked medic sealed the doors and dragged the wounded bot onto his exam table. What he saw shocked him. There were dozens of scratch marks on his body. Under his armor he was leaking energon. The fuel lines had been cut. Worst of all was the hairline crack around his spark casing. No part of him seemed untouched.
"Ratchet…." whispered Smokescreen in a quivering voice. "Easy now, soldier, you've been through a lot. Just relax, I have to find out what those Cons did to you." Starting at his helm, Ratchet's skillful hands felt in the smallest crevice of the young autobot's body. And again he tried to contact Optimus and the others. "Optimus, Ultra Magnus, if you can hear me, I've found Smokescreen…..uh, he's found me…..no, by the All Spark, someone get down here! Arcee? Bumblebee!?"
"B-but…Ratchet, I….ah!" Smokescreen tried to sit up but his body seemed to be paralyzed. He took in a sharp intake of air, trying to suppress a moan. "I…know what they did…."
Ratchet stopped his search. "You were conscious?" He held a light up to Smokescreen's optics. "I should have known. Shockwave is a masochist, just like Knockout. Put those boneheads together and it's a wonder that you came out alive…" He fumbled through his med kit, trying to find his cauterizer to stop the leaking.
"Ratchet…." Smokescreen grabbed the mech's arm so quickly he flinched. "It's called Tox-O. R-remember….Tox-En? It was made….to paralyze us but….instead of killing it caused a different effect. Every f-fiber of our nervous system is greatly…..enhanced…..causing the s-slightest touch to feel…..amazing. They tortured me….if you can call it torture….."
The medic stared open-mouthed at him. "You can't be serious? Surely this was a mistake on Shockwave's part? Another one of his mad experiments?"
Smokescreen lowered his arm and took another deep breath. "I don't know Ratchet, but once Megatron found out…..what it did….." Shuddering, he squeezed his optics tight, trying to forget what happened on the Decepticon ship. "Doc…." he whispered.
Ratchet's face took on a hollow look. "Help me forget…." He pleaded, his voice ending in a high-pitched squeak.
Sighing, Ratchet knew what Smokescreen needed. But could he really give him that? "Smokescreen, I-I'm not sure….the poison is still in your system, that much is certain. Until your body metabolizes it….." He shook his head, at a loss for words. "You're still under its influence. As a medical professional I cannot afford to become intimate with my patients. And I'm sure Optimus would agree with me." He slammed down the light he was still holding in his hand, the metallic sound reverberating through the base.
"But….I'm a member of Team P-Prime, Ratchet, not…..not a strange Autobot you pulled off the f-front line!" Almost gasping for air, Smokescreen managed to pull himself up to a sitting position on the exam table. "Don't I mean more….than that? O-Optimus was ready to make me a Prime. I-I believe…he would want you to help me….if he was h-h…ere." His head slumped forward onto his chest.
Ratchet caught him before he fell and tried to push him back down onto the table. "Now, settle down, Smokescreen! You are already weakened. An overload would only weaken you further. Maybe even put you offline. Besides, Optimus put me in charge while he and the others are away. And I say what you need the most is rest! I can't have you thrashing around in your condition. And Primus knows what would happen if I were infected as well."
Fumbling through his medical kit, he pulled out an oval-shaped scanner. "Now," he placed the scanner above Smokescreen's chest, "Hold. Still. I have to see if the poison is localized."
Before he had time to react, the navy blue race car grabbed both sides of his helm, pulling him into a kiss. Dropping the scanner, Ratchet locked optics with him for a moment, until the shock wore off. He jerked away from Smokescreen's touch. "S-Smokescreen!"
Smokescreen breathed heavily from the kiss. "Please, doc…I-I need this…." he gasped, tracing a finger down Ratchet's neck. Was the poison from Smokescreen's system starting to affect him? "Ah….you're so wounded already, Smokescreen. If I should do anything to harm you…"
"It doesn't hurt doc, trust me. I-I would tell you….if it did," he grinned. Taking the doctor's hand in his he layed it across his chest, right above his spark chamber. Hesitantly, Ratchet agreed. "Uh, alright, but…..if we're going to do this, we're going to do it right." Flicking a switch on the side of the exam table, cuffs extended to both of the youngster's wrists and ankles. "Ratchet, no….I want to touch y-you….."
Stiff-lipped, Ratchet replied, "I will do the hard work, you stubborn sparkling. Just….relax. Believe it or not, I'm quite skilled in this field." Smokescreen replied, "I bet…..you say that t-to all the bots." The medic climbed on top, positioning himself comfortably above Smokescreen's hips. The smaller bot's frame shook from the mere touch of the elder's legs against him. Ratchet was surprised at how hypersensitive he was. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked, having second thoughts.
"Just….f-frag me, Ratchet!" Taken aback at his language, he decided to shut the youngling up. He leaned forward and gave the mech a harsh kiss. Greedily, he returned it. Smokescreen had to admit, he hadn't been with many bots in his day, but Ratchet had to be one of the best kissers. Parting the other's lips, Ratchet's glossa danced with the youngster's. He ran his glossa over the open mouth, sucking on a lip in the process. Breaking off the kiss, Ratchet traveled to the neck, with its endless and sensitive amount of cords. He gently nibbled one, immediately sending the younger into a frenzy. He moaned long and loud, straining against the cuffs, making Ratchet think he was going into overload already. He broke the connection and stared at the writhing form beneath him. It had been quite a long time since he had a mech this hot and eager.
"R-Ratchet! Why…did you….stop?!" the bot managed to gasp between intakes. "You just….g-got started!" Surprised that the mech had not climaxed, he continued his torment. If this was not what an overload was like for a mech under the influence, what the slag was?
Kissing his way down the youngster's torso, he heard the familiar click of a port sliding open. Smokescreen's spike had already extended, the entire length pulsing with the desire to be touched. The size of it for such a small bot was startling. Ratchet took a moment to gaze at it, running a finger along the underside. He could feel it jump with each spark-beat. The medic's frame was heating up fast, and instinctively his port clicked open as well.
Smokescreen screamed when Ratchet slid his mouth over his spike. Unable to contain himself, his hips bucked wildly in an attempt to go deeper. Ratchet complied by taking the full length slowly inside his mouth. He sucked eagerly, elicting a feral growl from Smokescreen's throat. A few clicks went by before Smokescreen broke the silence. "Not enough, doc, not enough!" he pleaded. Fresh energon leaked from under his armor, the wounds torn open again from his thrashing about.
Something inside of the young bot had snapped. Before Ratchet knew what had happened, Smokescreen had broken through his bonds and tackled him onto the ground. The ambulance found himself trapped under the small race car, his strength coming from the vicious effects of the poison. "Smokescreen! What are you doing?"
"Ratchet...I need more. You need more. Hold. Still." Smokescreen held him down with his arms above his head. He could already feel the youngster's spike rubbing at his valve. So warm and wet…..he moaned for it. He needed it like nothing else.
The medic took on a look of complete contentment when Smokescreen slid himself inside of the elder. Wincing a bit as the spike entered, he felt the massive spike stretch his valve almost painfully. But even the pain felt….amazing. There was no doubt about it. Smokescreen had infected him with the Tox-O. But his body was ruling him at this point, and anything that felt this good couldn't be that dangerous.
Smokescreen started to move in a quick rhythm, not wasting any time. Both mechs were panting heavily. The young bot leaned forward and whispered in his audios, "Ratchet, all those times you refused to let me go on missions, when you agreed with Prime that I was too young and inexperienced, that I would somehow screw up and cost us a valuable relic or other irreplaceable item, this is your payback. The medic's optics were glossed over, his breath coming in short gasps. The younger bot realized he and the medic were not far from overloading. Leaning in again, the blue mech whispered, "Such a dirty old mech…..cum for me…." As if on cue, Ratchet overloaded violently, his back arching into the pleasure. Smokescreen was just a few clicks behind; Ratchet's valve contracting and relaxing around his spike sent him over the edge. Their overloads cycled, each one getting stronger than the last. After an eternity their pleasure started to fade.
The younger bot collapsed in a heap on top of the experienced medic. Their intakes were whirring, trying to cycle as much air as possible to cool themselves after their processor-blowing overloads. Eventually Smokescreen's wild attitude faded, and his normal, playful self returned. It was quite a few cycles before either of them spoke.
"Thanks, doc." Smokescreen said his head resting on the elder's chest. Ratchet smiled at him.
"Smokescreen?" Ratchet asked, feeling a bit of his strength returning. "Hmm?" he replied with lids half closed. "Primus knows I'm thrilled that you're with us again," he said sarcastically, carrying the young bot back to the exam table, "but I must know how you managed to escape. And your life force. It should not have been strong enough to penetrate the ship's cloaking device."
Raising a servo, Smokescreen showed him the Phase Shifter. Of course, he should have known the youngster wouldn't go out without his favorite toy. Smirking, he said, "Ok, so I know how you managed to get off the ship, but that doesn't explain how our scanners picked up your signal."
The bot looked up in thought. "Hmm, that must have been Laserbeak blocking my signal. The whole time I was captured on the ship he was attached to me. A dirty trick on Soundwave's part."
The medic nodded. "I'm sure Optimus will want a full report of this situation when he gets back. One more question Smokescreen: how did Megatron react to the substance?"
"Oh, well, for a mech as dominant as Megatron, it seems that the poison not only hightens their sensitivity, it makes them very…feral."
"You mean Megatron basically becomes a raging sex machine?"
"For lack of a better term, yes."
"Mmmm, fascinating….then what happened to you just now? Your body seems to have purged itself of the Tox-O poison." He traced shapes on the palm of the other bot's hand.
Rubbing his head, Smokescreen shyly replied, "Heh, yeah, about that….I think the poison was through my system long before overload. But you seemed so eager to continue I couldn't bear to stop." He grinned apologetically at the medic.
Ratchet looked to be on the verge of a breakdown. "What!"
Unknown to the two mechs, the computer screen had an incoming message from Optimus Prime. From the looks of it, it had been sending-and receiving-for quite some time.
"Umm…..Ratchet…..if this is an inappropriate time to contact you…."
Blushing, the medic jumped up from his relaxed position on the table, closing his interface port. "Oh! O-Optimus, I didn't realize! Are the negotiations over already? How did it go? Sir?" Smokescreen sat with one knee pulled up to his chest, the other swinging nonchalantly over the side of the table.
Clearing his throat, the Prime stated, "The negotiations ended peacefully. There was enough evidence by civilians and military personnel alike to conclude that the Autobots were innocent in the attack. The American government had offered a donation of $1,000,000 to help fund any weapons or supplies we may need to protect this planet. It was a gracious offer, but I respectfully declined, knowing that the humans need this currency much more than us."
"Oh, yes Optimus, of course. Agent Fowler is kind to offer us any help he can as well. And we have always faired on less."
"Yes….and, how is Smokescreen fairing?" Was there a hint of jealousy in the Prime's voice?
Hastily, Ratchet blurted out, "He's fine. We're fine. Ratchet, out!"
Grinning evilly, Smokescreen replied, "Well, if this doesn't get Optimus's attention that I'm a good addition to Team Prime, nothing will."
The older bot groaned and banged his head on the console. No way the youngster was going to let him live this one down!
Bleep!
Another message from Prime. "Yes, Optimus?" asked Ratchet wearily.
"I could not help but over hear your last statement, Smokescreen. I realized since you joined us that you have become a valuable member of our group. This being said, I have also noticed far too often you have been having difficulty with obedience. I cannot allow this disrespect of your elders to continue. As soon as I return to base, you will be...punished."
Click!
The Prime's last word vibrated within the young mech's chest. Mouths agape, the two bots stared at each other. What had they gotten themselves into?
….TO BE CONTINUED :D
In case you're wondering, I will be writing a sequel to this one. The opportunity for Oppy, Smokey, and Ratch to get together is too great of a temptation to leave alone. :3
