I did not write this chapter, this chapter belongs to MynameisJag, I've just adopted the bunny.

G1-Ratchet, Wheeljack-Contagious Heat

Rating-M

"Umph!"

Not exactly what Wheeljack had expected when he came to check one his old friend, everyone was starting to get worried after the medic didn't come in for his roster and everyone knew he would be there even if it wasn't his shift.

So being a close friend, he was 'volunteered' to check on the ambulance, meaning everyone was afraid of a flying wrench to the helm more than usual and worried that there might actually be something wrong, so he was sent just in case.

"Please…"

He was slightly wary of entering the dreaded room but he had too, there could be something seriously wrong with the white mech and he couldn't take that…everyone was counting on him to come back and say everything was fine.

"I need you."

Getting over his nervousness, he typed in the code and made his way in, he had expected the worse…a sick Ratchet…he was sick…but not with illness. His sight was filled with the sight of the medic spread out on his berth and digits shoved deep inside his own valve…pumping in and out… The chevron decorated helm was slung back and light moans escaped between swollen lips, optics turned off and the sheets were soaked with lubricant that had dripped out of the opening.

The inventor couldn't move…frozen by the sight as his closest friend overloaded in front of him…back arching and hips lifting as the choked scream managed it's way out. He could feel his own spike pushing at his panels at the show…oh…he had dreamed of that before…the medic pleasing himself for the engineer's own perverse fantasize.

He whispered the healer's name and optics that were once a clear crystal where now deep blue that was nearly a shade of violet and realization hit him along with the sweet alluring smell…heat…the medic was in heat. Then…he ended up on the floor…

A whimper brought him back out of his reverie and he looked up at the pleading look from that face so close to his…Primus…the white mech was gorgeous. Most couldn't tell because the faceplate was usually holding on to either an angry front or a worried one.

But here with full lips slightly parted to let out overly warm air that brushed against his sensors, cheeks slightly tinged with energon making him look impassioned and optics so lost in lust that the heat brought…just gorgeous…

Wheeljack brought a servo up to caress that alluring face, yes, even he could admit it…Ratchet was a looker and one that others had tried to get. His facemask slid back and he pulled the other down into a kiss, he had dreamed of taking the smaller mech before. Wet recharges filled with images of taking the other over a medbay berth, the sounds of his spike sliding in and out of that wet port and the soft words passed between them…and here he was with the very mech.

A whimper was passed into the kiss as they separated, he chuckled at the desperate wanting look and grabbed those red hips pulling him into a slow grind against his own crotch plating. A begging groan and the medic nipped the engineers neck wires as red servos played with the sensitive seams…nice…

He chuckled again and positioned the healer right above the cord panel, stopping the grind and holding those hips still just enough for him to shoot his spike up into the waiting valve. The ambulance's groaned and tried to move but the explosion prone mech refused to let him, enjoying the feel of himself buried inside the little mech.

Warm, tight, and hot…

He pulled the other one off slowly, watching the glass chassis hitch in anxiousness and need. A brief glance down to watch himself slide out, fluid covered his spike and trailed down it as a slight string of it followed it out but refused to leave the inside of the valve. He could feel himself twitch at the heat that called him back inside as he watched the walls ripple under his gaze, just waiting to milk him dry of his transfluid.

The Lancia stared back at the face as hips jerked in his grip, a grin came over his face and he slammed the small mech onto his harden equipment…gorgeous to watch as a white helm flew back and mouth opened into a silent scream. Cherry digits scrambled over his chassis until they found what they were looking for and pulled upon the wires that sent electrical surges throughout the scientist body.

He jerked the hips harder into his frame as he grounded himself inside, "Tight, fragging tight! Gooood!"

It was tight as the walls clenched against him, he could feel each sensor as he pulled in and out, inflaming the inside as the pleas for more hit his audios. He pulled the chassis down to where now the other mech was angled differently, the tip pressed hotly on the top of the valve and pressing hard onto the overly sensitive nodes.

His rough kiss drowned out the low begs, he could feel it…he was almost there…but he wanted to watch the medic explode. He separated from bruised lips, he gave a lick to the spittle that had escaped and was left on them, a few more and-there!

He loved watching something blow up…and that's what Ratchet did. He felt the port tighten before the inevitable overload and the screaming keen as he did, his own groan joined in the sound of release and felt his fluids shoot up into the now open reproduction chamber.

He sighed contently as the white frame relaxed against him, the valve's still constricting walls suckling what transfluid it could as he gave a few more thrust to empty the rest of his fluid.

A keen came from the other as Ratchet moved to get comfortable in the engineer's arms, spreading the warm fluid over their thighs. He was happy to keep the throbbing warmth inside of himself. The ambulance gave a purr and nuzzled against the multicolored chassis and he drifted into recharge.

Wheeljack just stayed there underneath the other, holding onto the cooling frame and staring at the ceiling…he couldn't believe it…if it wasn't for the fact he was holding onto the mech and the evidence was covering both of them, he would have thought this was some kind of fantasy.

He tucked the white helm under his chin, careful of the chevron points as his commlink crackled to life, "Wheeljack, is everything okay?"

The scientist chuckled to himself at the worry in the Prime's voice, yeah…everything was okay, "Sure thing, Ratch was just…huh…feeling a little stress. Nothing I couldn't take care of."

"Good, what was wrong?"

Another chuckle, "Oh, that…heh…just a little heat that's all."

"Oh…WHAT?"

-Break-

He growled at the locked door, he had to get out, he had to find someone, get their spike out and get filled! He wanted-needed to feel the throb of a hard rod inside his empty valve, he needed to feel the charge of overload, the rush of fluid and the achievement of a full reproduction tank.

Ratchet glared at the door, he wasn't exactly all there mentally at the moment but he was sure that he had a potential donor under and in him before he fell into recharge. His heat codes had enough of the waiting for the right time and decided that the now was as good as it was going to get in this war and turned on. He would be safe inside his medbay during a fight and if he was caught the Cons would rather use his medical knowledge or trade him for one of their own instead of kill him, the energon was high enough in storage, he didn't participate in battles much and there were donors everywhere.

Not that he cared at the moment who it was, as long as it was someone, he just needed their assistance in the heat's codes.

He whimpered and rubbed the area of where his chamber laid inside, his programs had sensed a downfall in the population numbers and demanded he help repopulate…he was sure there would be others to follow him. He then sighed, he wanted a sparkling…he wanted to feel the source of life within him, the knowledge that something was growing, a spark that would be a part of him.

Damn mechs, locking him in his own room…one round was not going to be enough to get him sparked; it never was…he needed more.

He looked around his room, there had to be a way out…somehow…

No to the one window, being the ARK was half buried under rumble, he was given the clear view of rock.

Unlike humans they didn't need a constant of fresh air or heating and cooling, their own frames would automatically adjust to the needed temperature and he was sure he wouldn't have been able to fit into the ducts if there were some.

The only other door was to his private washroom and it was just a wall to wall room…he growled and went back to glower at the door…before shuttering his optics…he was a medic…medics had tools…and he was sure he had some medical chemicals around lying around…

He smirked…he was going to get out.

-Break-

Optimus just shook his helm, with a few less details that the Prime was spared, he had managed to get the engineer to explain what was going on, "So what do we do?"

Wheeljack flashed brightly, "Just let him be, the codes won't settle until requirements are met, meaning he'll keep grabbing mechs and facing them till he get's sparked up. In saving the welfare of our troops, I will selfishly sacrifice myself for the good of the Autobots."

The truck just stared at the scientist with a blank look, "I think you've done enough 'self-sacrificing' for today."

"What about tomorrow?"

Prime ignored him and turned toward his other officers, Prowl and Jazz were standing by…well it was more like Prowl was annoyed at the whole thing and Jazz seemed to be eager toward something, "Suggestions?"

"We can try to keep him locked up until it passes, but there is no way of knowing how long that might actually take. We should also start monitoring the entire crew, if one has begun to show signs another will follow." Prowl glanced at the Lancia, "That is true, isn't it?"

"Hmm, oh, yeah, it's like some kind of code reaction thing. If one bot's system senses that another has gone into heat, then their own codes might activate as well."

Optimus tilted his helm to regard the scientist, "Is anyone subjected to this?"

"Not really, it all depends on their situation, Ratch is mostly on the ARK and is protected from fights, so his codes have suggested it would be safe enough for him now to bare. It's a survival code, it not only reacts to the low number of bots onboard but the level of energon he can get, how well he can keep his sparkling safe, and how well he himself can be protected."

Jazz crossed his arms behind his helm, "Sounds like tha mechs that are usually out of battle, ar' usually safe and of tha low risk of being attacked anytime soon." The saboteur gave a quick glance to the SIC, a look of concern in his visor before looking back at the other two, "Ah think we should have warnings out, the others will be effected sooner or later."

The truck nodded, "Agreed, get a list of who is more likely to get this condition, Wheeljack are there any signs to look out for?"

"Yep, soreness in the joints and lower regions to start with, it'll hurt only slightly at first but then the pain in the abdomen will increase and feel like it's twisting before it will start to relax into a numbness. This is the reproduction chamber getting the body ready; the joints are being readied for the extra weight that a sparkling would bring. The chamber itself is expanding and rearranging so it would conceive better, also the fuel tank will begin sifting through the energon and diluting it into a smaller connected pouch for when the new spark comes and needs fuel."

Prowl shifted, glad that the other two were focused on the scientists as he desperately hoped that the soreness in his wings and knees was just from lack of recharge…had to be…it was, right?

Wheeljack continued on, "See, Ratchet did experience all of this but at the time he said it was probably from standing on his pedes all day and having his servos work nonstop as for his tanks, he told me it was probably just bad energon. All the signs were there but they were put off as other everyday symptoms. So I would begin looking at those who have recently complained about aches, I think there was some that Ratch and First Aid had gone through. Perhaps some of them are already started but put it off."

The officers nodded, Prime agreed and sent the scientist's after the list, Prowl was sent off to prepare the rest of the crew…Jazz…decided to keep an optic on the Datsun.