Title: Dark Gift

Pairing(s): Megatron/Ratchet, Optimus/Ratchet

Warnings: Torture, non-con, hurt, pain, manipulation, and other stuff. Explicit sexual writing that some younger readers may fined offensive.

Title: Dark Gift

Pairing(s): Megatron/Ratchet, Optimus/Ratchet

Warnings: Sticky sexy times, Torture, non-con, hurt, pain, manipulation, and other stuff. Explicit sexual writing that some younger readers may fined offensive.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing :sob: apart form some toys!

AN: Big old warning in this. Big slashy, sticky robo sex in this chappie. If you really don't like it… DON'T BLOODY READ IT! This isn't the first time I've ever written something like this so I hope it's not to awful for ya to read.

I also hope it's of a standard everyone will like… truth is I've been going over it so many times I'm feeling a little jaded with it… it surprised me… me! Fed up of bonking robots! Can you imagine!

Sorry it's taken so long… wasn't really happy with some parts and spent a butt load of time spell checking… I bought a dictionary… and a bit or re-writing. So hopefully (fingers crossed) no more spelling mistakes… my fingers are crossed.

As always, I live for reviews… the more I get the more I write… Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Seeds are Sowed

The anticipation that had been building was starting to get to him.

Megatron had ordered Soundwave to clean his guest up; he was picky about exactly what he let into his berth at the best of times and a filthy, dirt coved mech was certainly not one of them, no matter how attractive he was under the grime. He also had to give him time to refuel and get a little recharge before their fun began.

Though it would have been easier for the warlord if the Autobot didn't have energy to fight, a substantial lack of energy could easily have a detrimental effect on the warlord's efforts to spark with him in the first place. The problem was that if he was going to breed with him, conception would be much more difficult if the medic was weakened. Even worse, it could also have a negative effect on the newsparks' development if it were incubated in an unhealthy system. The Decepticon knew the bother would be worth it and only to his benefit in the end, but the knowledge did nothing to alleviate his annoyance about being kept waiting. Even at the best of times, Megatron was not a patient mech.

When he received the message from his comm officer informing him that the Autobot was ready, the tyrant all but leapt from his chair in eagerness. He snapped out a few orders as he turned to leave, proclaiming that he was not to be disturbed until further notice, and exited the bridge. If any of the troops dared to comment, they would have said there was a spring in the large mechs steps as he made his way down to his private quarters. Exiting the turbolift he was greeted by the welcome sight of his TIC waiting outside his quarters..

"Soundwave, is everything prepared?" Megatron asked as he approached. The slender mech nodded curtly.

/Autobot: Re-fuel: Repaired: Rested: Cleaned: Awaiting inside./ he said smoothly.

"Good, and the surveillance cameras?" the Tyrent inquired.

/Online: recording/

"And it is only you that has access, correct?"

/Soundwave: Only one/

"Excellent, I'm counting on you to keep them that way until I have need of them. You may leave for now; I will call if I require anything else."

The spy gave a graceful bow as his master turned to leave. The large double doors hissed open and Megatron stepped though into his private sanctum; they were the largest of the quarters on Nemesis and by far the most luxurious.

He walked though the main area that served as his lounge and office. The main rooms sported a dark, imposing theme, echoing the personality of their inhabitant. Large comfortable settees around an ember pit that dominated the room, glowing pleasantly in the dim lighting. An enormous desk sat at the back of the office, framed either side by huge tapestries of the Decepticon emblem. His audios caught the sound of movement from the adjoining room as the warlord moved to his desk and accessed his personal files.

The silence was broken by the soft sound of music; an old melody from their long lost home. The sound of traditional Cybertronian instruments played with such tenderness and skill was enough to relax even his hardened spark. He listed for a few moments before the anticipation finally became too much and Megatron made his way over to the door of his berth room. Tapping in the lock code, the doors obediently whooshed open. At the sight before him, his CPU had a minor crash. He held back the urge to gasp as he marvelled at the sight before him, but did let a large, predatory grin spread across his faceplate.

Soundwave, as with anything he undertook, had done a marvellous job. The Autobot was thoroughly cleaned; battle grime, dirt and spilt energon stains were a thing of the past. The dings adorning his chassis had been popped out, scraped paint removed and a new coat evenly applied by a skilled hands. The worn rubber of his tyres had been replaced and the mech had even been waxed and polished to a delightful sheen. Megatron could see why it'd taken so long. The silver mech was thankful of his officers diligence; The medic was certainly was a treat to his optics.

All of his assets, previously hidden under grime, were now shown off to their best effect by his position on the floor, his servos bound and chained to the foot of the berth. Ratchet glared up at the tyrant with cobalt fire blazing in his optics; the light reflecting off his brilliant, gleaming white armour. It sent a trill of energy through Megatron's circuits- when the war was over, he was making sure Soundwave got everything and anything he asked for. The mech had earned it after digging out and polishing up this little gem.

"Good evening doctor," he murmured, just loudly enough to be heard over the soft music, "I see that Soundwave has taken very good care of you."

"I generally find human sayings moronic but I believe this one is fitting. Go to fucking hell!"

Megatron merely smiled pleasantly, amused by his spirit. He took hold of his chain, detached it and pulled the Autobot up. Ratchet had no choice but to obey the insistent force, though he did so with a grumble of distain and a tug back against the chain leash.

"My dear doctor," Megatron purred, looking over the white mech hungrily, "Who knew you could scrub up so well."

He reached out and caressed the Autobot's face. Ratchet sneered in disgust and with a remarkable show of aim, spat a glob of oral fluid in the Decepticon's optic. The tyrants face dropped in utter shock, while the smirk on the medics face showed nothing but cool triumph. Ratchet was going to treasure that utterly dumbfounded look the monster was pulling for some time. Unfortunately, the warlord's befuddlement wasn't to last. A click later, Megatron regained his focus, emitting a growl so low it made the silver mechs platting rattle, though Ratchet refused to even bat an optic shutter in concern.

If it'd been anyone else at any other time, he wouldn't have hesitated to give a sharp backhand across the face or worse for their utter disrespect. But in this case, he couldn't harm the doctor. Any unwanted damage or pain being registered during a merge would cause harmful feedback to himself; it could even prevent conception of a newspark altogether. Megatron cooled his anger by taking a long, deep intake, sounding very much like a irritated sigh as he wiped the fluid away from his face.

"Now, now… is that any really any way for a mech of your distinguished calibre to behave?" He said lowly. "I think you've been spending far too much time with the lower classes."

"Well, you'd know wouldn't you? Being the low class gladiator you are." The white bot shot back, cringing internally as he did so. It was a low blow and they both knew it- Ratchet really wasn't the type of mech to use class prejudice as ammunition to wound. For the warmonger, however, he'd make an exception. Megatrons optics narrowed to dangerous slits. The mirth in those blue optics was infuriating, but the Decepticon was smart enough to know the medic was just trying to enrage him.

Without warning, in as gently a way as possible, he grabbed the doctor. With one swift move Megatron picked him up and deposited him onto the berth, quickly attaching his chained hands above the medics head to a strategically placed anchor point. Ratchets optics went wide as he suddenly found himself on his back and in a far more vulnerable position. He rattled the chains that made up his bonds, seeing how much give they had. It turned out not to be much, especially not with the hefty warlords weight now pinning his lower body down.

As Megatron gazed down at his alluring prisoner, any anger from before vaporised. He couldn't stay mad when the medic looked so utterly delectable. He held the mech firmly as he thrashed beneath him, trying to dislodge his captor. Grinning slyly at the feeble attempts of the bot beneath him, Megatron ran his clawed digits lightly over the medic's frame, applying just enough pressure for the other to feel it but not to scratch his lovely new paintwork. That would come later; for now teasing was the name of the game. The Autobot's movements increased dramatically, but the warlord luxuriated in the feel of his Chosen thrashing beneath him. He liked a partner witrh spirit.

"You can't fight me Doctor," He rumbled quietly. "I thought you would have remembered how you fared from our last meeting."

"As I recall, I punched you in the face," Ratchet sneered sourly. Megatron chuckled at hearing the amount pride in the doctor's silky tones.

"You caught me by surprise with a lucky shot. Though I will admit that I was… quite impressed by your bravery." At this point, Megatron didn't think that a little flattery could hurt his cause.

Megatron couldn't simply force himself on the mech. The Decepticon would have liked nothing more than to have his wicked way with him, forcing himself upon the helpless mech beneath him and wringing screams out through a vocalised torn hoarse. But he couldn't risk any damage to the doctor, in turn risking damage to his future offspring. This was a delicate operation, he had to tread carefully and control his urges. Besides, it was going to prove far more satisfying to take his time.

The tyrent knew the Autobot would have been preparing for something brutal and savage; a rough, harsh coupling. Ratchet steeling himself for a demonstration of Megatrons power and control over him. Instead The former gladiator decided to confuse the poor doctor- he'd be gentle, tender… giving. No doubt just like the Prime would be with his lover. Causing the mech pleasure would have the dual result of making the spark merge more effective, but also blur the lines between himself and his Autobot counterpart.

He'd make sure Ratchet enjoyed this, make him tremble at his touch. He'd send him into a dizzying overload and make him feel guilty for liking it, have him questioning himself and confuse him ever after about what the Pit had happened. Who knew, maybe he could even turn the good doctor over to their cause. Megatron chuckled to himself; as much as he prided himself on his sexual prowess he doubted it would be enough to sway the mech's loyalties, but that didn't mean he wouldn't give it a bloody good go.

It'd been a long time since he'd had a mate he wished to please. His servos slid over the medic's chest down to his grill, dipping lightly into the crevices. Ratchet took a sharp intake of surprise. When Megatron had been a champion gladiator, femmes and mechs would flock to his him, vying to spend a night with him. With so many willing participates, he'd learnt a thing or two about pleasing a bot in the berth. Over the centuries though, he'd found it much more enjoyable to simply indulge his own desires above his partners. On this occasion however, the old data he had stored in his CPU should prove invaluable.

"Get off me!" Ratchet hissed, trying his hardest to move away from Megatron's insistent, inexorable touch.

"Hush now," the silver mech cooed, leaning over and running a wet glossa over the Autobots hip. "I'm not going to hurt you." He puffed hot air over the wet trail, causing his captive to shudder. "That's the last thing I want right now."

If he caused enough pleasant stimulation, it would activate the medic's interfacing protocols, regardless if he consciously welcomed the ministration or not. As long as he kept the touch light and gentle, pleasure nodes and sensors on and in his body would activate. Base programming would start to run… Lubricant would start to flow…

"Stop it." The Autobot snapped, shaken by the words.

"Shhh, my pet," Megatron growled softly, slipping his talons under plating and tenderly teased the wires beneath. "You have my word, I'll not harm you."

"Shut up! Just-just stop this!" Ratchet yelled. Ignoring the mech, Megatron continued on with his exploration, stroking transformation seams and licking the coloured lights on his thighs with clear lavish intent. The glass on the medic's chest began to steam up with the heat that his body was producing. He heard the doctors cooling fans shunt on just before his intakes increased, trying to override the fans and compensate for his rising temperatures as he tried to deny the steady betrayal of his own body. The gladiator smiled imperceptibly.

"S-stop it!" That confident voice faltered as Ratchet reacted to the strangely tender caresses.

"I don't want to," Megatron murmured playfully, his engines rumbling deeply with arousal. Ratchet caught his breath as the Decepticon's plating rattled against his own. The vibrations that assaulted his frame were far too pleasant for comfort and he shook as his fans sped up. Megatron revved his engines in approval, much louder than before, this time causing the Autobot to gasp loudly at the intensified feeling. Megatron chuckled. "I don't think you want me to stop either."

"Frag you!" Ratchet spat.

"I hope so." He smiled as he nipped at the Autobot's knee joint, causing him to twitch.

From all the tricks he'd learnt from his countless partners, one of his more impressive talents was to manually override a bot's interface covering. He started to nibble at the doctors prominently painted red hip, gently sucking and licking the sensitive plating till the mech was quaking and snarling. Obscene curses were hurled at the larger mech, all the while his fans working faster to cool his rapidly heating body.

While the doctor was distracted by his nips, Megatron slipped his servos under the pelvic plating. It took him only a moment to locate the series of sensor nodes and even less time to deactivate them with one efficient move. He was silently impressed with himself as the protective panelling that covered the doctors most intimate equipment snapped open without his consent. Ratchets optics opened wide in horror.

"Wh-how did you-?!" he spluttered.

"Just one of my talents, my pet. One of many I intend to show you."

The doctor's valve was indeed wet from his attentions and though it glistened invitingly, it was not as much as he'd like. But there were ways to solve that problem. Megatron wanted him dripping before he took him. The Decepticon held the doctors shapely white thighs firmly open as he puffed hot air over the sensitive metal. Ratchet shuddered, writhing in his grip. Undeterred, the Decepticon leader lent down and ran his glossa around the opening.

Ratchets colourful language returned tenfold as Megatron began his uninvited exploration, sliding slowly inside the moist opening, stretching the folds open gently. The doctor tensed momentarily and then started to wriggle uneasily as the tyrant expertly stroked the flexible inner walls with his long glossa, stimulating the highly sensitive sensor nodes within the Autobot's body. Ratchets engines stalled and he choked back a loud, shameful groan of pleasure when the warlord touched a particularly sensitive cluster of sensors near the front of his valve. The unexpected and unwelcome jolts of sensations were, needless to say, disconcerting for the white mech.

"Good spot?" Megatron inquired, grinning to himself.

"I-ju-Stop it!" Ratchet bit out roughly as he shook. "Get off me!"

"Why? Don't you like it?" He asked before mercilessly assaulting the sensor cluster again.

"No!" The Autobot cried out, half in anger and half in shameful enjoyment.

"Funny… there's a lot of lubricant here," the Decepticon purred, lapping at the wet opening. Enjoying the taste of fresh, slick and sweet lubricant that started to flow. "I think you do."

Megatron dove back down and Ratchet let out a strangled cry, shaking his head in frustration as the 'Con's glossa slithered back inside him, delving deeply into his heat.

"Primus…Please… stop… please." He cried out quietly. He hated himself for his pleading, but he couldn't stop himself, didn't know how to fight against… this. "Please, s-stop!"

"I like hearing you beg, you have such a beautiful voice," The warlord cooed playfully stroking the doctors white armoured leg. "Will you beg some more for me?"

At that Ratchet promptly shut he mouth, ducking his head behind his arm, as if to hide from the sadistic monster. Megatron chuckled darkly while he continued his ministrations a little longer. He couldn't remember the last time he'd performed this on another bot; almost forgotten the sense of power it gave him. Forgotten how delicious the taste of valve lubricant was, or how melodic the noises he could wrangle from a partner were. The muffled whimpers and stifled groans the doctor made as he fought against his own body were so erotically stimulating.

The Decepticon leader's systems were running hot and with the Autobot now sufficiently ready, his patience was at an end. He sat up and looked over his prisoner with a keen eye. The mech was panting and shaking, cooling fans running loudly, condensation forming on his armour, limbs straining against his restraints. His mouth opened wide as he gulped down air, trying to catch his breath. To Megatron's optics, he looked beautiful.

There was a soft click and whirr as his own interfacing panels shifted away. Megatron sighed in relief as his large, hard interfacing spike appeared. It had been getting decidedly uncomfortable within the confines of his panel. He heard the medic's intakes hitch, and he started to panic at the unmistakeable sound. The Autobot began a new bout of thrashing but Megatron, undeterred, gently pulled him down so the restraints were taunt. He firmly held the medic's hips down and, to the Autobots horror, he was now completely trapped. Ratchet felt dread seeped into his spark as he finally comprehended that there really was no escape.

"Are you ready doctor?" the Decepticon asked, positioning himself at the wet opening. It was so tempting just to throw caution to the winds, just to slam in and make him ride his spike hard. The silver mech all but moaned at the thought. Later, he promised himself, there will be time for that later. He looked up to see the utterly distressed look on the medics handsome face.

"N-no! Please, don't do this! Please don't!" Blue optics wide, bright and pleading. "Please." Megatron reached up, ran the backs of his fingers over the shivering mecha's face. He almost felt sorry for the good doctor. Almost. But he was enjoying himself far too much to stop and the emotional anguish he was going through was just what he'd wanted… it was perfect, just like the bot beneath him. The white mech was truly gorgeous.

"Oh my dear Doctor, I'm afraid I can't… you've driven me to do this." Megatron said quietly, running a sharp talon over the medics parted lip plating. "I can't resist you any longer."

He lent over, seizing Ratchets lips with his own. Ratchets cry of distress was swallowed by Megatron's hungry kiss. He simultaneously slipped his long glossa into the medic's mouth while he gently pushed into the mechs wet port. Ratchet tensed as the tyrant breached his tight opening, pushing into him steadily until completely sheathed. The tyrant's engines roared with great satisfaction as he rested flush against the medics body. The Autobot was so deliciously snug around him, the channel warm and wet and his very plating tingled from the delectable feeling and the knowledge that he was shamelessly defiling what Optimus held most dear.

"Mmmm," Megatron moaned, releasing the medics trembling lips, "So tight… you feel wonderful," he purred, nuzzling his neck.

Ratchet let out a choked sob of distress. He wanted to offline. He didn't know if it could get worse. He silently cursed his appalling luck when large Decepticon started to move, slowly pulling himself out before steadily driving back in. The monster's spike was as thick as it was long, stretching him wide while intruding deeply, each and every inevitable time. The spikes defined ridges striking and working over sensors relentlessly as it moved back and forth. The sickeningly wet sound of sliding, lubricated metal and the warlords own grunts of gratification assaulting his audios with every move.

Part of him wished Megatron had just simply gotten on, fragged him, overloaded and then thrown him back in his cell. Ratchet could have coped if the mech had been brutally rough; it was what he'd been expecting the moment he realised what the mad-mech had planned for him. It would have focused his anger and given him something to fight back against, given Ratchet another reason to hate him.

But this. This was beyond his belief. Megatron was… being so gentle, taking it slow and easy. Making it, dare he admit even just to himself, pleasurable. The truth made his plating crawl as he felt the tyrant take his time with each gentle, lingering thrust. His inner sensors flared wildly with each successive stroke, Megatron filled him tightly as his large clawed servos caressed his white hips. Tender kisses scattered on armour followed and feather light nips from sharp denta. He was being so, very gentle… just like Optimus.

With his optics shuttered, he could almost fool himself into thinking that it was his Prime. Especially when he bit down on his neck… or he angled his hips just so… He felt his tanks churning and his mind span in disgust. He felt ashamed and guilty. Megatron had successfully made him feel… dirty… and even more used then if he'd simply just been pinned down and pounded into the berth by this monster. This unexpected pleasure was a far worse torture then any beating he could have suffered. It was a betrayal to his beloved Primed on the most intimate of levels.

Megatron smiled as he licked along Ratchets chest, he could feel his spark pulsing wildly under the glass and armour, could see the conflicting emotions twisting on the medics faceplates. He revelled in the Autobot's panting and strangled gasps when he pulled out and plunged back in, feeling the delicious writhing and jerks of the doctor's body against his own. He knew the medic was fighting a desperate battle against his own body… and losing badly.

He still wanted nothing more than to hold those sturdy legs open and piston into his deliciously tight, wet port. To hear the Autobot scream with every sharp, armour cracking thrust he could muster. He wanted the Autobot to know what it meant to be truly and utterly fragged raw. But he'd wait; he needed the bot to fulfil his purpose first. After he had completed his task and before he let him go, he'd have him just as he wanted. For now he'd play it safe. It was maddening, but looks he saw and the half sobbed cries to stop from that beautiful voice, made it more than worth it.

It wasn't enough to simply overload in him; that would be too easy. For the medic to conceive, they had to merge sparks and bond but it was a small price to pay for getting what he wanted. The bond would fade over time, but never truly disappear. It gave him perverse delight to know that when he was back with the Prime, the doctor would feel his presence constantly lingering in the back of his consciousness for the rest of his life. A constant, indelible reminder of what they'd done.

"Open up," Megatron purred. Without ceasing his movements he tapped lightly on the medics chest, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted.

"Bite me." Ratchet hissed through grunts. Though his voice was quiet, the fire was still very much alive.

"Heh, later my pet," he chuckled, placing a kiss against the mechs face. "But for now, open your chest plating… or I'll rip you open," he growled lowly into his audio.

He actually had no intention of hurting him, he just needed to convince Ratchet to open willingly. The threat of pain would hopefully be enough to sway him. He revved his engines, causing both their platting to rattle from the vibrations. A savage grin spread over the Decepticons face when he felt the mech shiver under him and he let his claws gently scratch over the window glass.

"Do it and I promise you, after we've had our fun I'll let you go," he offered silkily. "If you don't, I'll see too it your beloved Prime will be without his medic… and he'll be picking pieces of you up from the four corners of this world."

As much as Ratchet desperately wanted to refuse, he knew without question that Megatron would make good on his threat. He'd known him perform worse acts of violence on his captives through countless millennia of war, through watching his home and comrades die. In truth, the prospect of death didn't really concern him anymore. What did, however, was the thought of leaving his team. Of never seeing Optimus again. The very prospect was spark-breaking.

They would be left even more vulnerable than ever before without his medical skills and Optimus… He couldn't leave him, couldn't even bear the thought of it. He'd do anything to continue to serve him, to protect him. Even if it meant sacrificing a piece of his very spark to this demon, with only the remotest hope he'd actually keep his word and release him, it was a chance he'd willingly take. Ratchet knew what the consequences would be, but if it meant he'd be able to return and continue to serve Optimus as his medic, he could live with it. If anything else, it would get this ordeal over with quicker.

Ratchet would be dishonoured. Tainted forever and eternally unworthy of the gracious Prime's affection. He had no doubt that when he found out what he'd done, Optimus would dismiss him as his consort. There was the possibility he'd even be ostracised by the entire team for his indecent transgression. It was either accept the shame and live to continue fighting or refuse and die here on his back in the clutches of the Decepticon fiend. It was a horrible choice. He shuttered his optics, unable to bear the sight of the mech above him any longer or bare his own shame at seemed to swell inside at what he was about to do. He threw away pride, gathered his courage and made his decision.

"You'll release me if I do?" he asked quietly. Ratchet grunted as the mech lent over him, pushing himself as deeply inside as physically possible. Megatron ran his glossa over the doctor's chest as he moved over his neck and along an audio fin. He stilled, paused to enjoy the closeness as he replied.

"You have my word, Doctor."

"For all that's worth," Ratchet spat out bitterly.

"Well, you'll soon find out." Megatron smiled, leaning back before continuing the steady, relentless rhythm that drove the doctor's sensors into spasms of delight and his conscious into fits of guilt. Ratchets chest heaved from laboured intakes. Not wanting to drag this out any longer, he forced himself to activate the appropriate protocols. Moments later his protective chest armour shifted and unfolded to reveal his rapidly pulsating, pale blue spark.

The large Decepticon took a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty of the sight before him as he moved on top of the Autobot. Blue light spilled out into the room, bathing his silver armour in a pulsing, unearthly brilliance. Even if this was a diabolical, underhanded and callous way of getting the offspring he desired, he still took the time to relish in the wonderment he felt upon seeing other mech's life force. A respect arose for the mech brave enough to bear his spark in front of him and more so to willingly surrender a part of his own being for his commander.

"You're stunning, my pet." Megatron admitted, gently reaching in and carefully caressing the casing. The static made his servos tingle and Ratchet whimpered at the increasingly intimate touch.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not your fragging pet!" The medic forced out through gritted denta.

"After this," Megatron said lowly, snapping open his own plating to reveal his own spark. Dark violet energy rippled and pulsed in his chest. "You will be."

Ratchet cried out as the tyrant surged forward, seizing his lips in a harsh kiss, pressing their bodies tightly together. He felt the Deception's spark engulf his own. Megatron's spark was terrifyingly cold, filled with so much anger, hate and contaminated with dark Energon. The tainted purple spark devoured his cool blue life force with ravenous greedy desire, not leaving a thread of his being untouched. Megatron consumed him completely. Ratchet thrashed wildly and screamed…

The intense raw power of dark energy filled his senses entirely. The medic started to drown in a turbulent sea of darkness, it was frightening and… Thrilling . By Primus… it felt so… good. So very wrong but… at the same time, indescribably exhilarating. A thousand times better than any synthetic Energon. Ever fibre, every molecule of his being was suddenly electrified, charged with the purest, raw blackness. It made every touch, thrust, kiss or bite the Decepticon bestowed feel like nothing the doctor had ever experienced before in his long life.

With the sudden rush of foreign energy, also came the first anchors of a bond forming between them. Tendrils of the tyrant's consciousness latched onto his, forcing its way into the Autobot's mind and soul, binding them together. Ratchet felt the Decepticon's black lust, his depraved want for him. The confidence, the passion, the sheer force of will and power that flooded his being was intoxicating.

Ratchet was overwhelmed by the sudden torrent of emotions that came from being linked to another being. For so many centuries he'd been bonded to his mate; he'd taken that study solid presents for granted. When he'd died, Ratchet thought his very spark would shatter. That the unfathomable loneliness, the emptiness he felt after his passing… the deafening silence… He'd thought it would swallow him whole. With only his own mind for company he feared he'd go mad; Ratchet had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be with another.

The sensations he'd missed. Primus, how he had yearned for that intimate connection again. An unspoken, desperate need he'd hidden from himself, something he locked away behind duty, protocol and fear. A yearning to be wanted, needed; to be completely possessed by another. Megatron wanted him, desired him, needed him. Megatron wanted to tear into him, mark his body as a sign to the whole universe that he was his… and dear Primus… Ratchet wanted that too… he wanted to feel those feelings again… he wanted to be claimed like that again… he was already past the point of regret… so, he let go, gave in and lost himself in the unholy union…

At first Megatron felt the resistance of mech beneath him, Ratchets very spark seemed to shy away from his intrusion. Undeterred, he pushed forward to invade the doctor completely. He could feel the other's spark writhing as fiercely as his body. He actually felt the moment the doctor relented, the instant the barriers and the resistance vanished and let the Tyrant in completely. Megatron wasn't surprised the medic gave up fighting- it was inevitable- but he was mildly surprised to feel the doctors spark reach out into his own.

Even more surprising was that the medic began moving against him in a much more pleasing way. Instead of just lying there reacting to him, Ratchet started to rock back against him, now meeting Megatrons every thrust with- dare he say- enthusiasm? Their armour crashed together with gusto as they ground together. Ratchet's once harsh cursing and desperately cried demands to stop now became unrestrained, wanton moans and heady gasps of encouragement. The Decepticon was, understandably, please by the more active participation.

Megatron gripped him a little harder, feeling a thrill from the doctor, a rush of ecstasy when his claws dug into the metal hard enough to leaving long gouges on his legs. Ratchet was panting hard as they moved in tandem, their pace quickening. They were both very close, he could sense that from their newly formed link, the build of overload drawing nearer. The Decepticon could now tell the Prime's Consort was enjoying his company a lot more then he probably should. Megatron could feel the other mech's intense pleasure over their bond from his quickened speed. His whole body tingled with dark glee; it made this momentous event even more sinfully wonderful.

Ratchet was now crying out with every long deep thrust, the thick ribbed spike felt blissfully wonderful as it filled him completely, deeply, over and over again. He could sense the warlord's own dark gratification every time their hips ground together. It was becoming too much for him to bare and when Megatron angled his hips, hitting that perfect spot deep within one time to many, it pushed him over the edge of euphoria. Ratchet yelled to the heavens, praising his god as his systems surged with burning energy.

Cabled interior walls were sent into waves of intense contractions. The sudden vicelike rippling caresses on the Decepticon's spike, combined with the sudden shock of white hot pleasure washing through their linked spark as the doctor overloaded, sent the silver mech crashing into the most intense overload of his life. Megatrons engines gave a deafening roar as his systems were assaulted with a rush of dizzying power.

The tyrant snarled his release into the Autobot's audio as his hips jerked violently and his thick, dark Energon enriched transfluid shot deep into the medic. It filled the white bots conception tank till it overflowed, dripping lewdly from the edges of his stretched- taunt valve. It sent deliciously powerful sensation through the doctor's entire body as he was filled, coating and charging all the sensors in his valve and tank to make him shudder and writhe against the Decepticon in indecent pure ecstasy. It felt so sinfully good. Ratchet was completely lost in the delirium of utter bliss.

Megatron's body shuddered violently, the intensity of the overload affecting all of his systems. His entire body feeling entirely too weak, he puffed noisily as he forced himself to sit up. Panting heavily, he gazed down and gently caressed the Autobots abdominal plating. He watched while the Autobots chest slowly closed, enjoying his captive's valve's delicious rippling spasms. It was almost like the medic was trying to greedily suck in every last drop of transfluid from his spike. Moments later, when they finely stopped, Megatron pulled himself out of the doctor, the slick sound of his spike leaving the warm channel sending a pleasant shiver down his spinal strut.

Between his legs, the medics armour was smeared with his own bluish lubricants and Megatrons lilac- tinted transfluid, a thick trail leaking thickly out of his port from tanks that were swollen full. It was like a perverse artwork on the snowy white canvas body. Even his once clear blue spark now was marbled with dark purple energy, he watched the last of the bright swirling vortex of duel coloured energy as it disappeared behind armour plating. The Decepticon caressed the doctors closed heaving chest almost tenderly.

"Well my pet, I believe that you enjoyed that, hmm?" Megatron chuckled feeling the medic's residual pleasant emotions. He had expected some scathing comment in reply, but instead got a shock when the doctor said nothing and opened his optics to look up at him. Ratchet gazed up at the Decepticon with a dazed yet pleased expression, his optics glowing with a strange violet tone. Megatron hummed in curiosity; the dark Energon must be acting upon his systems in unforeseen ways. He'd have to get Knock-out to look into it but for now, he was tired and sated. He was done with his captive, at least for the time being.

"Well Doctor… I must say this has been fun. You've been truly wonderful, but I really need my rest," he purred. Leaning over, Megatron hooked a finger under the doctors decorated chin and place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I'll have Soundwave take you back to your cell to rest."

"Hun-?" A bewildered look crossed the Autobots face. "You're… Kicking me out?" Megatron was taken aback by the sudden wave of unbelievable hurt that flowed over into his spark; it was so potent it made his own spark ach. He actually felt… bad for suggesting it.

"Well I-"

"You fragger!" Ratchet yelled. Megatron saw the enraged look cross the medics face for only a split second, before the medic snarled. To his astonishment, the Autobot managed to rip the restraints clean from the wall in one violent move. Megatron was too shocked to react when the medic jumped him, slamming him onto his back against the large berth and making the best use of his relatively great weight to keep the stunned warlord down.

"How dare you even think about throwing me out!" Ratchet snarled in outrage. Megatron was actually… afraid by the anger that flowed over the bond towards him. He was even more concerned and then confused when the doctors face suddenly softened. "We haven't finished playing yet." Ratchet smirked darkly, his purple optics glowing brightly. The Autobot lent forward and roughly kissed the Decepticon. The medic moaned in delight as he slipped his glossa between the tyrant's lips, running it skilfully over razor sharp denta. Megatron's CPU stalled. This had not been on his list of possible outcomes.