Vice Commanders
Warning: Violent Sex
He had to leave.
That's what his logic circuits were telling him.
Pain had him clenched over his desk, once neat stacks of datapads strewn haphazardly about. His fingers burrowed into the plating on his desk. His legs spasmed helplessly, kicking the floor as the pain made its way completely down his thighs and settled in his wheelwell ankles. A groan choked its way out from between his gritted dental plates, rumbling out of his engine. His vision flickered with static, and the world lost all color, becoming a monotone blue.
He had to leave.
But I don't want to go.
The hinges of his wings pulled painfully, as though the weight of his door panels had suddenly become too much for him. The pain reached its clawed fingers around his spark, rending like some monster, pulling him, bidding him to listen.
How so very like you.
He should have known better than to hope that on this new world he would not be subject to the same physiological need as he was on Cybertron. How foolish of him. It was an illogical conclusion, drawn from newfound hope that this planet gave him and his friends.
Never make that mistake again.
"Prowl…to Prime," the words grated out of his vocalizer.
"Optimus here, is something the matter Prowl? You sound glitchy." The soothing voice was a small spot of warmth in the midst of his turmoil.
"Re-quest permission… t-to-" A particularly painful surge seized his engine, stopping the words midprocess.
"Prowl? Do you need Ratchet?" Optimus didn't wait for an answer; a call went out for the CMO to report to the tactician's office.
"Be-belay that, Ratchet. Permis-sion to leave… the Ark-sir." No relief, he had to get moving. He had to leave!
"Belay that, my transistor! Who crashed and made you Trion?" Ratchet's surly concern filtered over the open comm. channel.
Prime remained silent for half a breem. "Hold a moment, Ratchet." Optimus switched to a private channel. "Prowl?"
"Per…mission requested…sir." Don't drag this out, Prime, please. He couldn't take it.
Another torturous half a breem of silence. "Granted. Be careful."
Prowl didn't wait any longer, he threw himself away from his desk, collapsing with relief into his vehicle mode. He roared out of his office, speeding through the halls; his throttle jammed open, his systems unwilling to stop now that he finally gave in. He could already hear Ratchet roaring at Prime.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE? WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU MEAN 'LET HIM GO?' YOU LET A SLAGGING INJURED MECH OFF THE PREMISES!!"
Ratchet's ringing voice spurred him out of the Ark and down the paved lane leading to it. He was just reaching the limits of InterArk communication range when he caught Prime's request for an escort.
If only he was injured, he could handle that. He could deal with Ratchet. He would rather deal with Ratchet, than this… matter.
He followed the signal. That was all there was left to do, follow the signal, find completion. Then he could return to his base, to his office, to the comfort found in his work…
'You Autobots and your senseless 'paperwork'.'
He must be much closer than Prowl anticipated. Which could only mean that Prowl had been ignoring the problem far longer than usual.
'Serves you right, every grade of pain you got.'
The tactician forced himself to stop and transform. He was not about to meet this one in less than his most capable mode. His doorwings swung up behind his shoulders, and he felt the surge of contempt coming from his counterpart. He negated that emotion, shrugging it off with less ease than he shunted his own. The signal continued to emanate at the same steady rate and strength as it had when the origin was half a planet away. Even with one here and the other on Cybertron the signal never wavered. It was not influenced by distance, or any other such applicable laws of physics.
And every vorn that signal cycled until it had the attention of his whole processor. Until it pounded away at his logic circuits, so that even they could not deny his illogical need.
'I do not wish to be here, either, you know.'
The roar of jet engines turned Prowl's attention to the east, and his gaze lifted even higher, until he saw the bipedal form of his quarry. The sun glared off the white metal, burning the red wings into a blazing orange. The black face stayed hidden in shadows, red optics the only thing visible.
The decibel level of the jet turbines' roar increased as the red and white Seeker dropped at a controlled rate. Suddenly he flipped over, sleek white form coming straight for the tactician. Prowl didn't have time to move, and so he braced himself.
Starscream slammed into him, throwing him to the ground, holding him down by his doorwings.
Prowl lashed out, his fist smashing into the Seeker's shoulder vent. "Get off me!"
Starscream sneered, his fingers digging into Prowl's doorwings. "You have to do worse than that, Autobot." His long legs pinned Prowl's, keeping them from kicking out. He leaned down, capturing the tactician's lips in a devouring kiss.
Prowl grabbed at the jet's shoulder vent, and twisted.
The Seeker reared up, roaring in anger and pain.
Prowl lunged forward, releasing the shoulder vent to dig at the ones on his chestplate. He shoved Starscream back, freeing his legs so that he could pounce the Seeker. He straddled the slim waist, stroking his hands down the large wing panels. He reluctantly nuzzled the black cheek, sliding his lips against the Decepticon's.
So close now, and the pain was a distant memory, but the signal threatened to return full fury unless they worked to renew its silence.
Starscream grabbed the black and white wing panels, wrenching them down-painfully. But he kissed the tactician back with a fervor Prowl wished to only remain a memory.
The Decepticon Air Commander would not remain prone for long, however. Suddenly he threw Prowl off, foot slamming into the white thigh, smashing the armor plating inward, damaging the hydraulics underneath.
Prowl landed on his back, his doorwings preventing him from rolling. Then Starscream was on top of him; fingers clawing under the Datsun's roof, ripping at the seats folded within. Prowl snapped his fist out, catching a glancing blow across the Seeker's face. Starscream sneered, swooping down to dominate the tactician's lips with his own.
'You try to be so gentle.'
Prowl pulled out from his memory archives a time when Starscream used to be 'so gentle.'
The Air Commander snarled, and tore his hand out of the executive commander's interior; pulling a hand full of cushioning and stuffing out. He discarded the stuffing; freeing his hands up to delve into Prowl's doorhinges; smirking at the mewls he drew from the tactician's vocalizer.
Prowl couldn't process anything besides the fingers in his sides for what his chronometer told him was only two breems, but felt like an eternity. He scrabbled at the Seeker's arms, panting and gasping-writhing- at the unwanted touch. His fingers left long runnels where they pressed into the Decepticon's armor plating.
'You are so delicious when you try to fight me, Prowl.'
Try? Starscream thought he was winning?
Prowl wiggled his hand between their bodies, and began to methodically remove the glass covering the F-15's cockpit. As soon as Starscream reared back to slap his hands away, Prowl tackled him onto his back. Lips locked, and dental plates nipped. Hands caressed, and fingers clawed. They wrestled, passion and anger mixed together, so that they didn't know where one stopped and the other began.
Systems heated, surges running through them and sparking along their bodies. The signal pulsed, not as incessantly as before, but it let them know that this was not enough. It required more. It required that completion.
Hydraulics and pulleys ground to a stop as they pressed against each other. On their knees, they clasped hands refusing to give, lips pressing and demanding. Panels on their chests shifted and moved away. Layers of armor moved to the side, revealing two spheres buried in tubing and wires.
The spheres spiraled open, revealing beacons of light. Automatically they wrapped their arms around each other, pressing closer, pressing their sparks together. The light reached out from one casing to the other; searching, beckoning. The two sparks crackled, sending surges throughout their systems.
Then they merged; sparks and minds, thoughts joining as one. They merged; unable to tell who thought what, who said what. They merged; starting as always with the affection that had initially made them go through with the bond.
remember that time... we had so much fun... it's not fun now?... we looked good together... still do...
They lingered in that peace for only a short time, however. Then the struggle started again.
it's always about power with you... join us... what do you know about power?... NEVER... power to... protect the weak... destroy those in... fight for... we have the right... you never earned... I earned everything...
Words failed in a short time, and they delved deeper, still searching for that completion that would allow them to part ways. Their minds so thoroughly merged, they didn't know who first attempted to pry for information for the good of their cause. The other retaliated, throwing out images and memories before he lashed out for the good of his own cause.
the lights of Iacon... darken the streets of Kaon... all Autobots... death to... there is no peace... war encompasses everything... you failed... broke promises...what good is the word of a... why did you... when all have fallen... LEAVE ME ALONE... will you still... we didn't know each other...I HATE YOU... never knew each other... all lies... all deceptions... I WILL ALWAYS HATE YOU
Systems screamed, reaching their breaking point. Their sparks pulsed, flashed, calibrating and synchronizing. The two executive commanders clawed at each others back, scraping down the other's wings. Then the two beacons of light separated, still pulsing in sync with each other. The mechs overloaded, every system redlining and shutting down. They collapsed without falling, leaning together. Helmeted heads resting on the other's shoulder.
And there was silence.
And there was peace.
They panted, not looking at each other, not wanting to be reminded of that brief span of time when they had remembered their love. Not wanting to remember how that love had soured. Darkened. They curled together in the afterbliss, content to know that things remained as they had been for a long time. Nothing had changed. Their worlds were still stable. Their bond renewed, they were reluctant to move. To give way.
But duty called them; announced by the roar of jet engines overhead.
'Yours are waiting on the road. Groundcrawlers. You could have perfection, but you prefer... '
Prowl lifted his head, daring the Air Commander to finish that thought when he had his ailerons in his hands.
'How easy would it be to break you. Return you in pieces.'
At least he could trust his people to transport him safely. Trust his medical staff to treat him. Megatron wouldn't care if Starscream didn't return at all.
"On the contrary, Megatron would dearly miss mytalents." Starscream stood, his red optics glancing past Prowl. "Give my regards, to Skyfire."
Prowl stumbled to his feet, his damaged leg hissing in objection. "I'm sure he'll be happy, to hear from you."
They stared at one another. Suddenly Starscream reached up, stroking his hand over the tactician's cheek. He pulled Prowl closer to rub their lips together with a tenderness Prowl wished he never knew the Seeker had.
"Megatron would miss my talents, more than you ever wanted them." His thumb punched through the Autobot's optics. Prowl cried out, snapping his dental plates at the blue fingers and striking out with a white fist. He shattered the Seeker's canopy, and staggered away from the Decepticon.
Jet engines roared closer, and a car engine revved threateningly.
The bondmates parted ways, Starscream leaping up and transforming. His trine took their place at his wings, Skywarp swooping at Prowl to show his distaste.
Prowl limped over to the two cars waiting patiently by the road. He didn't smile at them, he didn't have the strength, and he still reeled from merging with Starscream. As agreed, two from each faction would wait, in alt mode, and see to it that neither tried to take the other's commander. The Porsche turned expectantly, revving his engine. The red Lamborghini waited, facing the direction the Seekers had taken.
Prowl fell to his knees, transforming at a rate that suited his pained frame. As soon as his wheels hit the tarmac, he rolled away. Away from the union that was his deepest shame. Away from Starscream. Away from his past.
Jazz stayed by his side, rubbing gently against against his sore doors. Sideswipe pulled away shortly after, coming up on the Datsun's other side. He had the present with him, next to him. Supporting him in a way Starscream could never hope to understand. He headed home, with his lover on one side, and dearest friend on the other.
AN: This was written for (and winner of ) the MechaErotica January challenge 'First Times'. The Prowl/Starscream pairing has become a bit of a... fetish for me. Don't expect this to be the last time you see them from me.