Title: Mellow Yellow
Warnings: mentions of former noncon, violence
When Ratchet came off shift and headed back to his berthroom, Sunstreaker was leaning against the wall next to his door, one foot against the wall, the other on the floor, his arms folded across his chest. He looked both threatening and patient, and Ratchet wondered at the dichotomy. His thoughts had strayed often during his shift to the twins and their actions of the previous night.
Sunstreaker looked up and caught Ratchet's optics. He became tense for a fleeting moment, then relaxed again. If Ratchet had shuttered his optics, or looked away, he would have missed the relief that passed over Sunstreaker's face at that moment.
Knowing he wasn't the only one worried about this conversation eased Ratchet's processor, and he moved forward more readily and sent code to the door mechanism, sweeping his arm before him to indicate that Sunstreaker should precede him into his room. Sunstreaker peeled himself off the wall and sauntered into the room, looking around before taking a seat in the only straight chair in the room.
Ratchet closed the door after entering the room. He made his way to the small wash basin in the corner and used a cloth and a mirror to clean his faceplates and take a quick swipe across his chestplates before taking a seat on the edge of the berth.
Sunstreaker was sitting in the chair the wrong direction, his arms folded across the back and his chin resting on his forearms, as he watched Ratchet clean the grime of the day from his faceplates. As Ratchet settled on the berth, Sunstreaker traced his form with his optics, admiring the way he was built and the way he moved.
Ratchet shifted nervously under the scrutiny.
Sunstreaker stood suddenly and Ratchet froze. Sunstreaker came over to Ratchet, sinking down in front of the mech and kneeling in front of him. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Sunstreaker slowly reached out and began to trace Ratchet's face, using his thumbs to trace the join of his cheek plates, the indentation of his optical sockets, the line of his olfactory receptors, down to his lip plates and over his chin before tracing the edges of his helm, up to his chevron, which Sunstreaker carefully outlined before sliding his hands back along the sides of Ratchet's helm, down his neck to his shoulders, then over his chest to the hands clenched tightly in his lap.
Still keeping his optics on Ratchet's, Sunstreaker bent down, breaking optic contact at the last moment, and placed a lingering kiss on Ratchet's hands.
"You're beautiful." Sunstreaker murmured, both hands cupping around Ratchet's hands.
Ratchet found he couldn't exchange air, so caught up in Sunstreaker's fascination that he wasn't venting. A flashing warning on his HUD finally caught his attention long enough for him to expel the heated air and vent in cooler air.
It didn't stop him from continuing to look at Sunstreaker.
"Always thought so," Sunstreaker continued, "and you care, Ratchet, and we don't get that from many mechs, and you put us back together after we get slagged and Primus, you're gorgeous."
Ratchet squirmed, "My form is no more pleasing than anyone else that has this frametype."
Sunstreaker chuckled, a low laugh that sent spikes of excitement through Ratchet's circuits. "Yes, it is. The way you move, the way you care…all wrapped up in you, Ratchet. It makes you so attractive to me."
"Oh," was all Ratchet could manage.
"Yeah." Sunstreaker replied, bending his head and placing another kiss on Ratchet's hands.
Ratchet found his hands trembling as he extricated them from Sunstreaker's grip. Sunstreaker took it wrong, but Ratchet moved quickly and clasped his hands over Sunstreaker's helm fins, holding him in place.
He then did his own exploration, tracing Sunstreaker's face. The warrior was beautiful, but Ratchet had always felt that he was not as confident as he appeared, that Sunstreaker was bluffing his way through life, and as he traced over Sunstreaker's features, he whispered why he found him so beautiful.
"Your optics…always watchful, always looking. Your mouth…so beautiful in rest, so grim in battle. Your face…such classical beauty, made even more beautiful by being yours, Sunstreaker…"
Ratchet continued his litany, tracing over features that drew ventilations from Sunstreaker, finally bending down and slowly fitting their lips together as he'd seen Spike do to Carly.
As Sunstreaker shifted closer to Ratchet, which pushed his lips into Ratchet's, Ratchet figured out why the humans engaged in kissing. The friction was exquisite, sending flames along the neural pathways and causing him to wrap an arm around Sunstreaker's helm to pull him closer. Such a foreign custom, but it felt so good!
Sunstreaker was already moving, surging up and picking Ratchet up, rearranging them so Sunstreaker was the one sitting on the berth and Ratchet was sitting across his lap, his helm tucked into Sunstreaker's arm as the warrior bent over him.
A quiet whistle caused Sunstreaker to lift his head and they both looked toward the door.
Sideswipe was just inside the door, and Ratchet gave a hazy thought to how the twins seemed to be able to hack through his lock at will before losing all thought as Sideswipe came over, the door finally sliding shut behind him, and joined them.
Sunstreaker shifted on the berth and Sideswipe clambered up with them, putting his legs on the outside of Sunstreaker's. Ratchet was now lying across both laps as the twins reached out and pulled each other closer, sandwiching Ratchet between them as they crossed their arms behind his helm and across his abdomen.
"Comfy?" Sideswipe asked in faux concern.
"Oh, indeed." Ratchet answer, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we do need to talk. Yes, Sunshine, we do." Sideswipe addressed his brother as the yellow twin twitched.
"Why?" Ratchet asked.
"Because otherwise, you and Sunshine here will jump straight into interfacing, and you won't understand us, and when something doesn't go the way you think it will, you'll yell at us and it will upset Sunny so much that he won't forgive you and we will have blown our chance to build a real relationship and you'll have blown your chance to have the pair of us."
Ratchet gawped at him. "I…beg your pardon?"
Sideswipe growled slightly before replying. "We're interested in you, Ratchet. Have been for a long time. After we came out of stasis, we couldn't figure out a good reason to hold back any longer, so we started courting you. Sunstreaker made the crystal cube for you and I brewed the high grade. We couldn't think of anything else that you wanted, but we were hoping…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged, looking away in embarrassment.
"Rushing it, bro," Sunstreaker said. "that's not how you're supposed to court somebot."
"OK, then, you do it!" Sideswipe snapped back.
"I was, and you interrupted." Sunstreaker stated.
Ratchet put his hands on their shoulders and pulled himself out from between them. "That's quite enough. Why would the pair of you be interested in somebot like me? I work too often and I've lost my compassion and…"
He was interrupted by Sunstreaker, yanking on his chestplates and pulling him down into another kiss.
"You haven't lost your compassion. You've lost the time to mourn properly for those you lose, but your compassion is still there, Ratchet, and still potent." Sunstreaker was fierce in his defense.
Ratchet reached out, trembling again, to touch him. "Sunstreaker."
"Whoa, whoa, no more of that," Sideswipe said, yanking Sunny back. "we're still not communicating in WORDS."
Chastened, Ratchet and Sunstreaker sat down on either side of Sideswipe.
"Sunny, we need to tell Ratchet about us." Sideswipe pleaded.
Sunstreaker hunched his shoulders, turning away from Sideswipe and Ratchet. Sideswipe kept his gaze on Sunstreaker, a plea in his optics until Sunstreaker nodded jerkily.
Sideswipe turned to Ratchet and said, "We need to tell you about us, OK?"
Ratchet nodded.
Sideswipe continued, "We're spark-split twins. You already know that, of course, but it's not a common thing at all. Our carrier was a pleasurebot, and he was peeved that he had to stop working for the last couple of orns before we were decanted. However, he was the favorite pleasurebot of a wealthy politician, and he managed to convince that politician that we were his spawn. He was very proud of us, but of course, he had a family already. He'd married for political reasons, and his mate was rich and powerful in his own right. So our creator kept us on the side and paid for a nice apartment near the Iacon center. He paid for our upgrades and for a tutor and for a room that was soundproofed where we'd stay when our creator entertained clients. He paid for various lessons and was an indulgent creator when he was around. He liked us, and our carrier, being no fool, always made us available for him and lived his life around Creator. Then Megatron came along, and our creator was one of the senators killed in the coup. Our carrier sold everything and moved us to Praxus. He'd invested well and was able to get work in a body shop that catered to the well-to-do. We had to go to a regular school, but we didn't starve."
Sideswipe reached over and put his hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder. His brother moved into the one-armed hug a little bit, and Ratchet braced himself.
"Then the war came to Praxus. We'd just gotten our final upgrades and were at the university in Iacon when word came of the attack on Praxus. Our carrier was killed. We were able to tap into the banking system and withdraw most of his credits."
Sunstreaker took up the tale. "We used the credits to upgrade to warrior class armour. We could see that war was coming, and we wanted to be prepared."
"So we upgraded, got weapons systems installed, and then found the gladiator pits in Kaon. It was a good place to learn to fight." Sideswipe was growing tenser, and Ratchet worried that he'd snap cables if tensed up any more.
"We learned fast, and we had virus protection that allowed us to duck the slave protocols that were passed around like cheap energon in the gladiator pits." Sunstreaker added.
Sideswipe shrugged his shoulders, visibly working out the tension. "We…joined the Autobots because Sunstreaker had a run in with a Decepticon and took a dislike to the whole faction. Otherwise, I think we might have become Decepticons."
Sunstreaker disagreed. "No, we wouldn't. We valued individual freedom a lot more than that. Megatron believes in freedom for himself. Everyone else has to do what he says. We would have broken away if we'd ever joined."
Ratchet interjected. "I already know all this from your files. There's got to be more."
The twins exchanged a long look. Ratchet figured he'd already passed a test simply by still being here and still listening to them.
"Yeah, there's more." Sunstreaker was now the tense one.
Sideswipe wrapped his arms around his brother. "This isn't in our medical files, Ratchet, and you can't tell anyone."
Ratchet opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Sunstreaker's roughened voice.
"No one, Ratchet. Ever."
Ratchet thought about that stricture. Could he abide by a promise that was given in a vacuum, not knowing what it pertained to?
He finally answered, "I promise to not tell unless it is against my fundamental coding as a medic or as an Autobot."
The twins looked at each other, and Sunstreaker nodded.
Sideswipe drew a deep draught of air. "We were…Sunstreaker was spark-raped by Megatron. He was using it to force soldiers into bonds with leading Decepticons and get them away from Autobots. He didn't care if there was compatibility, he just wanted them bonded. That's why so many of the Decepticons are insane, they're bonded to mechs they don't care about."
Ratchet was horrified on multiple levels, his HUD flashing with coding conflicts. "That's…what happens if the bondmate dies?"
Sideswipe smiled, and it was a brutal rictus. "They're forcibly bonded to another mech."
"The insanity…" breathed Ratchet.
"Yeah…" Sideswipe said.
Ratchet thought about this information. "Does Autobot command know about this?"
The twins nodded. Ratchet nodded in return. "Good. That takes care of that. Why didn't it work for you?"
"Spark-split twins?" Sideswipe prompted. "He had Sunny, he didn't have me."
Ratchet looked at both mechs, then asked softly, "Who had you?"
Sideswipe laughed, and Ratchet winced at the hollowness. "Shockwave, of course."
Ratchet pulled at them both, hugging them fiercely. "And you got a way and joined the Autobots and deal as much destruction as you can on the Decepticons."
"Yes," Sideswipe replied, "in the short version."
Ratchet asked, "What's the long version?"
"We're still dealing with it." Sunstreaker answered, his voice low and rough.
Ratchet held them closer, his spark aching for what the twins had gone through. It was horrifying to think the Decepticons had fallen so low, using bonds in a manner they were never intended, but worse to think people he knew had gone through such an awful experience. He continued to hold them close until Sideswipe shifted away. Sunstreaker still clung to Ratchet, though, as if he was afraid Ratchet would disappear if he didn't hold onto him.
Gradually, however, Sunstreaker was able to let go, and Ratchet seated himself between them.
"So. Now I know. Why do I need to know, other than you should have told me this years ago as part of your medical documentation." Ratchet was curious.
Sideswipe pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. "Because you have to understand why we go off the deep end sometimes. We get out there and we fight and someone like Skywarp or Blitzwing will make a comment that now they know that they should have forced both of us at the same time, and we kind of lose control and beat the slag out of whoever is in front of us."
Ratchet nodded. "Then you come back here and fall apart."
"Yeah." Sunstreaker said. "It takes us days to get over it, too."
"Prowl knows," Sideswipe added, "that's why we usually get long range patrols together after a battle, or don't have duty at all for a couple of days."
Ratchet asked, "What do you want me to do on those days?"
"Be with us, but don't…don't expect us to be very responsive. We're pretty much a mess and we tend to cling to each other." Sideswipe told him.
Ratchet vented deeply. "OK, I can do that. I always need down time after a big battle, too, so this will be interesting."
Sunstreaker reached out and touched Ratchet. "Thanks."
Ratchet understood. The twins had chosen him, had just tested him, and he had responded better than they'd hoped and he was still interested in them. Sunstreaker still had a little faith in his own species; Ratchet would have to live up to that faith and show them that there were still mechs that could be trusted with the secrets and lives of other mechs. He looked forward to the challenge.