MERRY HAPPY NEW CHRSITMAS YEARS EVE!
I'm not sure i've ever mentioned this, but this entire story is now dedicated to Kaitie ;3 It's what brought us together and i've never known anyone quite as wonderful as her ^.^
Also, she has informed me that uni has stolen 6 months of my time where this fic is concerned D: fear not! it is still very much alive! It's just that i had to get my final year of my uni course out of the way and NOW THAT IT IS... oooooh boy...
This chapter is so large i had to split it into two parts.
...well... actually i'm splitting it so i have something to give you for christmas, the next half will be finished in the new year most likely, unless i find time between boxing day and going to Queensland for new years to finish it off, idk. Either way, the two parts all up are likely to total over 25,000. Basically like an average Asher chapter XD (if you dont read her fics, WHY? ).
So yes, without further ado, please enjoy the first instalment of chapter 12.
Remember that Italics are thought or emphasis depending, and bbold is Comm. speak/b
If there are inconsistencies, gimmie a break, keeping coherency over 6 months is hard XD
Also reviews, i do not demand, but just know i love to hear your thoughts, whatever they may be, and reviews are a huge boost to my self-motivation. Cheers guys.
Oh, and yes, of course there is smut here ^.^
~Death Out
Bumblebee wished, as soon as he onlined, that he had not done so. The first sensation he registered was pain. It was fairly nondescript… an overall ache with hot spots of particular unpleasantness near his shoulder, in his CPU, and… his pelvic region, for some reason.
He really hoped it was because of some embarrassing stray shot, but from the feel of it, it would have had to of been a very precisely fired stray shot… and he would need to have been lying down with his legs wide open, so that sort of ruled that out.
Before he onlined his optics, he let his memory cache attempt to boot up. It was curiously sluggish…to the point where he began to suspect he must be in the med-bay. Of course, until it did online, he couldn't know what had happened… he could well be stuck in enemy territory… although, that didn't make much sense because he could feel, and his systems pinged back an affirmative, that there was coolant being fed into his frame from a medical port and the remnants of a sedative.
Decepticons didn't tend to put their captives on comfortable berths either.
It was with this thought that things started to come back to him slowly…
Falling on those cones… yes, Ravage had attacked him, he'd fallen from the vent above Skywarp's quarters onto those things which had started to effect him immediately… the effects had gotten worse the longer it had taken him to get out of the base… his processor had gotten foggier and conflicting signals in his body. He'd also been hit by a few laser shots… ah, that explained his shoulder.
But yes, he remembered escaping. Mirage had blown a hole in the Nemesis and he'd gotten out with the other espionage agent's help. That's when things had gotten really bad… the ocean water running over his plating had barely kept his processor cool enough to know what was happening to him… past that his systems had been so taxed and stressed his memory grew fuzzy and disjointed… until a certain point when he'd found the overwhelming heat abated and he could think again…
Except…
He'd not been thinking normally.
Still with his optics off, Bumblebee frowned. His data tracks recorded some strange single focus behaviour in him. He'd… he'd taken out the coolant line and gone stealth… into the vents to find someone without Ratchet catching him… yes, Jazz and Prowl, but why had he…
The suddenness with which the rest of that cycle came back to him floored Bumblebee's CPU.
At first, it was just… facts, there, blunt, un-emotive.
Then he began to slow it all down and analyse the separate incidents.
Oh Primus I… their motion relays? And the locks, why did I… oh right, Ratchet wanted to stop me from… dear Primus did I really… Fraaag and then… oooh pit the Twins…
Bumblebee's optics suddenly onlined and he vented harshly.
What did I do? Something wasn't right with Sunstreaker… oh slag almighty WHAT did I DO?
"Good morning Bumblebee. Feeling any better?"
The yellow mech nearly jumped out of his plating when the door swished open and First Aid's gentle, cheery vocals cut through his agonised memory recall.
He looked over at the protectobot who was exuding cheeryness, unable to shift the anxious look from his own faceplate. The red and white secondary medic leant over him to check his coolant line, and despite the mask and visor covering his features he seemed to be giving him a sympathetic look.
"Aid… what happened to me last night?"
The question seemed to make the pacifist a little uncomfortable.
"Uh… well, I'm not sure I'm the mech to explain it. I only got a very quick briefing from Ratchet when I came on duty about three cycles ago, and I've just been treating other mechs since then. He told me to come and see if you were online yet, I've called him."
Bumblebee nodded, worried look not abating. First Aid patted him on the shoulder in an attempt to soothe him but he ended up flinching… he hadn't realised his sensor net was so edgy… Primus it was like a seriously bad hangover.
"Sorry… I forgot… stimulant overdose." The lesser ambulance muttered apologetically.
"It's OK… wait stimulant? Do you know what was in my systems?" the spy asked, apprehensive rather than curious.
First Aid fidgeted, putting up another bag of pain killer and hooking into a small medical port in his arm.
"Well, all Ratchet told me was it was an elicit drug… two pronged effect, coding and chemical, basically you were overdosed with a powerful and infectious aphrodisiac. It also overheated your circuits and partially melted a few of your components, so it's probably wise to not move or over exert yourself too much."
Bumblebee gave a feint nod, not sure if he was more thankful or mortified when the door to the small private room whooshed open to admit Ratchet.
"Thankyou First Aid. Think you could go check on Jazz and Prowl for me now? They may need some more pain relief as well."
Despite the mask and visor Bumblebee could have sworn he saw something akin to a blush on the other ambulance's features… which prompted him to frown and wonder what the PIT he had done to cause pain to his two lovers.
As soon as the door closed behind the other mech, he didn't bother with pre-amble to find out.
"Ratchet what did I DO to them?"
To his surprise and slight irritation, the CMO just laughed and put his servos on his hip plates.
"Oh you aren't the reason they need relief… not directly anyway. That all happened after, part of the effects of that drug. They anticipated it… but at the time they really didn't care. I'm guessing you're feeling something similar?"
Frown deepening, the spy nodded. Ratchet's smile only got bigger.
"So, you remember why it's hurting yet?"
The yellow bot had to offline his optics to wade through the bare facts again, expression becoming more and more horrified.
"Oh Primus… not Wheeljack, tell me I didn't just mess up one of my longest standing friendships ever…"
Still grinning infuriatingly, Ratchet crossed his arms and shook his helm. "No, you haven't wrecked anything. Gonna be fun to watch you two dance around each other awkwardly for a while, but he also isn't the reason you're in pain."
Bumblebee continued on through his memory cache, until the reason became evident.
His optics onlined nearly stark white and his faceplate was the absolute epitome of disbelief.
"…I didn't."
"You did." Came the soft, nonchalant reply.
"…please, please tell me I didn't…"
"Sorry Bumblebee, but you fragged Optimus Prime. Both ways, in fact, although only one worked… bet it's been a while though, since that seeker of yours… hence why it hurts."
"…What the frag, how do you know about… oooh primus I said something didn't I?"
"Yup. But don't worry, Optimus, noble as he is bless his spark, assumed you were referring to something pre-war. And I am also the only one he told, so no need to worry about the rest of the base hounding you over it. Just out of curiosity though, who was it?"
Bumblebee scowled, optics dimming forlornly. "Yes it was before the war and no I'm not telling you. I don't care how confidential you keep it, it's just… not your business."
Ratchet decided to let up a little given the dark tone he'd somehow pulled out of the usually upbeat yellow bot.
Bumblebee lifted both servos to cover his faceplate and let out a soft moan of despair.
"And… what about Sunstreaker… is he alright? What happened… why was he…"
The little black servos dragged down the small faceplate and when his optics met Ratchets, the Medic's mirth was completely gone. He even seemed a little… angry. But the anger didn't seem directed at him.
Ratchet ex-vented slowly.
"That's probably the biggest issue, actually. There's something I have to tell you, but it's in complete confidence and does not leave this room."
Bumblebee nodded. Being an espionage agent, secret keeping was not something new to him. And something this personal, as it must be for an incident like this to be the only reason he would know… there was no way he would keep the information anywhere but beside his own spark.
"Bumblebee, when Sunstreaker and Sideswipes were only about a vorn old they were abandoned and taken to a sparkling care-home. Many of the care workers were minibots, they tended to be thought of as better at relating to sparklings… which you would know best is not really the case given most of their personalities, but that was the processing at the time. The point is, Sunstreaker was not the easiest of Sparklings to handle, according to the records that were kept. What the records never said was the method of 'discipline' they used on him."
By now Ratchet's faceplate was grim with sorrow, and the beetle was absolutely dreading what he was about to hear… he did have the feeling it might explain several things about the golden twin, but what came next was even beyond what he imagined.
"He was sexually abused, Bumblebee. It was more than one carer, and they would always separate him completely from the other sparklings when they did it. Including Sideswipe, but they didn't know about the bond between them. It went on for at least 5 orns before Sideswipe's pleas to an outside care worker that happened to visit their centre got an investigation. By then, Sunstreaker was deeply traumatised. It took until he was well into his young adult vorns to properly move past the effects from what was done to him. His 'dislike' of minibots, as everyone knows it, is nothing… nothing compared to how he used to react around them. It's exceptionally good recovery given what happened, even if it seems like an excessive dislike to everyone else."
Bumblebee processed everything Ratchet said, then a confused frown worked onto his faceplate.
"And… what about me then?… How did he even come anywhere near me? He was the one who asked ME that night." Bumblebee suddenly cut himself off with a startled look. He'd never actually told Ratchet about that…
The medic just waved a servo carelessly when he saw the look on the spy's faceplate.
"Don't worry, I know what happened that night, Sideswipe told me. Mostly because he was completely surprised by Sunstreaker's sudden interest in you. He wasn't sure quite how to handle it… he was actually scared Sunstreaker might… do something to you. But up until the incident last night, you were looking like the one bot who might just cure Sunstreakers trauma glitches completely."
Bumblebee swallowed dryly, apprehension creeping unpleasantly through his systems, getting worse.
"And… now?"
Ratchet's helm bowed with a soft sigh. "Well, you infecting him was at least an effective distraction. He spent the rest of the night with Sideswipe infecting one or two other mechs and then holed up with Bluestreak from what I know. He hasn't been to the medbay, but I've confined him to quarters until I can talk to him. I'm certainly not ready to put you both in a room together to work it out. I don't know just how bad his reaction will be to the incident yet. Sideswipe recommended I not let you see him for at least a few joors… he doesn't want you to get hurt, he knows it wasn't your fault."
Bumblebee lay staring at the ceiling, horrified. He had had no idea… NO idea whatsoever that Sunstreaker had been through something like that. Suddenly he felt like he had deserved every game of toss the minibot he'd ever been dragged into… a tiny price to pay for the golden twin's violation at the hands of mechs like him…
No, not like me… that's probably why he liked me, because I'm not like any of the other minibots. And I'd never, NEVER hurt a mech like that…
But you did, a tiny voice popped up in the back of his CPU. Last night you practically went on a raping rampage, its just that it was your friends so they didn't count it as Rape… except for Sunny.
"Primus Ratchet what am I going to do…"
"Well, you can start by not blaming yourself, because the mission accident was an accident from what Mirage could tell us. Also, don't move your aft off that berth until I say so because the overload you got from Prime totally slagged your fuel pump and half your sensory circuits and wiring burnt out. Not to mention all the ruptured coolant lines. Now you're up though, Jazz and Mirage are going to want to come in so you can give your mission report and they can debrief you, at which point I will kick them out for you to get more rest. You're off duty until further notice."
Feeling the blissful wash of the pain killer starting to take effect through his systems, Bumblebee still couldn't help the nagging sensation of dread in his tanks.
"Ratch… how many mechs got infected? You said Sunstreaker and Sideswipe infected others after I…well, y'know…"
Ratchet looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin as he tallied up in his head.
"Well, lets see, from what I've been able to tell… Jazz and Prowl were confined, so they just kept to each other… Sunstreaker got Sideswipe and the two of them got Smokescreen and Bluestreak… then Smokescreen got Tracks and Blaster, and they got Mirage. I locked Wheeljack in his quarters but he got out and got Skyfire, and then they both got Perceptor, and then Skyfire went and got Silverbolt but thank Primus the effects weren't too overwhelming passed on that far, or I suspect the aerial gestalt would have taken it beyond their quarters, but as it is, they didn't… Also, I'm not entirely sure who got Ironhide, but he got Inferno, who got Red Alert. And… yep, I think that's about it."
Ratchet was very hard pressed not to laugh at the open mouthed, undisguised horror on Bumblebee's faceplate.
"Ratchet… you do realise I am probably going to crawl into the air-vents and never show myself again after this don't you?"
The medic couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Oh don't be ridiculous, I'd just send Steeljaw In to drag you out. Relax Bumblebee, the source of the drug isn't going to be disclosed to any mech that doesn't already know, and they've been told to keep it confidential, or else."
Bumblebee, for once, was thankful for the nasty gleam in the CMO's optics. "Or else what?" he asked curiously.
"They'll get reformatted into something that doesn't prevent them doing their job but sure as frag embarrasses the scrap out of them. Like an ice-cream van or a valentines day float. Right, now your pain killers are working, I'll go get Mirage and Jazz. I don't think I have to tell you not to laugh at how they're walking this morning."
"So ya think the 'Cons are probably gonna bring in one triple changer and one new seeker trine." Jazz frowned direly, gazing at nothing and rubbing a finger over his chin.
"Yes. I think they're bringing in the extra troops simply because they think we're doing that, and now we'll probably have to just because they are." Bumblebee sighed.
Mirage nodded. "We weren't, but you know Ironhide was talking about the hypotheticals of who we might bring if we had to only about three earth weeks ago. He was on patrol with me, and I wouldn't mind betting some 'Con spies overheard us and thought we were serious." Mirage offlined his optics and rubbed his fore helm.
Bumblebee frowned. "That isn't the worst of it though. We still don't know who Skywarp was talking about just before Ravage got me."
The other's faceplates got even more serious.
"Ya right about that. You said he mentioned physical traits, could we at least narrow it down?"
The yellow spy gave Jazz an apologetic look. "All I got was 'pointy headed one', 'his sweet spark' and 'black aft'. That could be any NUMBER of mechs here. Sounds like they want to target a known couple though." He replayed the recording for them without being asked, and they listened intently for anything that could help them discern the exact targets of the jet trine's ire.
Mirages optics flashed and a look of comprehension dawned on his faceplate.
"The most obvious candidates have got to be the Twins though… the Seekers hate them most, obviously, and they're spark siblings so of course they're known to be close… pointy head? That would be Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe's hip plating is black…" The reality of just what Skywarp had been saying hit Mirage and he looked disgusted. "By Primus, they want to rape the twins? That… that really doesn't bear processing. I knew 'Cons were sick, but…"
He shuddered and Jazz patted his shoulder with a sombre look.
"I'm afraid it ain't unheard of mech. Hasn't happened in a real long time, but it's certainly not a new tactic of the 'Cons."
Bumblebee shuddered at the thought, frowning deeply, and Jazz threw him a reassuring look of comfort. The minibot knew first hand how some Seekers could be predisposed to such unsavoury desires.
"So… that's it then, isn't it? That recurrent mission setup is totally slagged. We'll have to make up a whole new strategy." Bumblebee sighed hopelessly, resting his helm in his servos, elbow joints on knees.
"Yea, but it ain't ya fault bug. You couldn't of known Soundwave was onto us and fixin' those casseti-clowns double time. You did a good job." Jazz reached out and patted his arm gently, and all Bumblebee could do was throw him another apologetic look… right now he'd like nothing more than to curl into the Porsche's chest plates and not leave that warm soothing presence for several cycles, but he couldn't so much as give Jazz a suggestive look with Mirage around. Not if he wanted his relationship with the TIC and SIC to remain a secret for the most part.
"I did well right up to the point where I got myself overdosed with Seeker aphrodisiac, yea."
Jazz couldn't help the small smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. "Aw now that weren't so bad though. Well, don't get me wrong, it wasn't great for you, but relax Bee… none of the mechs ya infected in the first place would ever tell anyone else it was you that did it, and all the rest know is they had a pretty slaggin' good night with their best friends and lovers. I think it was kind of a pick me up actually."
Mirage made a scoffing sound. "At least, we'll appreciate it more when all our equipment stops hurting."
The three couldn't help a small laugh, Bumblebee the only one not wincing from the action, but only because he was still on pain killers.
"At least you probably still had most of your own right mind about you for the whole deal." Bumblebee muttered sheepishly.
Mirage did one of his strange half-snorts, yet another mannerism he wasn't accustomed to and always tried to stop himself doing halfway through. "Oh I could think straight about how I shouldn't have been doing it, I just didn't care. But that of course was a by-product of the narcotic. Hound was very disappointed Ratchet made him stay in the medbay and not go with me though." The ligier said slyly, and Jazz chuckled deeply.
"Probably a good thing. We need at least one mech able to go out on patrol. I mean look at me, I ain't exactly a novice at this, but I can't walk straight and I'm not sure Prowl's gonna wanna walk at all."
"So who got you?" Mirage asked the saboteur with a smirk.
Jazz gave him a wide innocent grin. "Ah, now, mech. That'd be tellin'."
Bumblebee felt a moment of apprehension as Mirage pouted.
"Aw, come on Jazz. I know I saw Bluestreak pass us in Track's and Blasters quarters, he looked in and then left. He went for you, didn't he? I know he's close to Prowl and he adores you… and you know I can keep a secret." The noble-mech's optics glittered pleadingly.
Jazz shrugged and dimmed his visor. "OK Raj, ya got us… but don' go talkin' to him about it, he's already upset enough as it is about Ironhide, ain't his fault he wanted to show the big red softie his appreciation."
Mirage actually giggled, Bumblebee just smiled and threw Jazz a thankful look.
The door whooshed open and Ratchet stomped in with a data pad in hand, looking up from it and raising an optic ridge.
"I'm guessing from all the grins plastered on your faceplates that the debrief is over, so now you've had a nice little social consult to boot, you two can get the frag out and give Bumblebee some peace and quiet to rest."
The Porsche and Ligier nodded obediently and each gave Bumblebee a smile and a pat on the shoulder before leaving, Ratchet on their heels.
"Oh, Ratchet, before you go…"
The red and white mech turned curiously to the spy as he settled back, quite content to get some more recharge time.
"…apparently it was Bluestreak. He seems to admire Ironhide the same way I admire Optimus."
Ratchet's orbital ridges rose and he chuckled. "Awww. So ol' Hide was just trying to protect the kid's dignity. Didn't know he was THAT big of a softy."
The 'Fragging Incident' as it came to be known, remained mostly a mystery to the majority of the crew for the next orn or so. It was another five joors since that night before Bumblebee was allowed to leave the med-bay, but he was off duty for 10 days, after which Ratchet would assess his readiness for light duties.
Bumblebee, however, wasn't able to enjoy the thought of 10 days of rest… not when he had to debrief with Optimus Prime and the rest of the command staff about the compromised mission and the fact they now had to find a new way to replace their best means of intelligence gathering.
"Don't be nervous Bee. Ya know Optimus is too professional to even give a hint about anythin' that happened during the fraggin' incident. S' not like he's gonna get all shy n fidgety around ya like you're gonna do around him."
The saboteur had chuckled the night before in his quarters, the spy punching him on the arm for his facetiousness.
"Jazz, I don't think continually enforcing the name is going to help him feel any better." Prowl had said calmly, resting his chin on the yellow helm. He had wrapped himself around the beetle in his lap, and Bumblebee was enjoying the soothing rumble of the tacticians engine through his frame. It certainly eased the aches of the fresh welds setting and the new circuits and components settling into use.
Jazz lay back with his helm effectively in both his lovers laps at the same time, looking up at them upside-down with a lilting smile.
"Aaaw, come on now Bee, it really ain't so bad. Everyone thinks the 'Cons planted the drugs on ya during the escape and some other bot spread it. 'Course a couple of the minibots are sayin' ya stole it from some o' the 'Cons and someone else stole it from you and used it not knowin' how potent it was. Either way, no one believes it would be you sneakin' around spikin' and spreadin' the love."
Bumblebee flicked Jazz's nasal ridge with a pout before resuming his petting of the black horns.
"While it's just great that everyone still sees me as the innocent sparkling-" (Prowl snickered at Bumblebee's deadpan tone) "- that doesn't change the fact I still have to talk to all the other bots I spiked… I mean Primus, I don't even know if Sunny can forgive me… never mind not being able to even look 'Jack or Optimus in the optic again."
"I seriously doubt either Wheeljack or Optimus will stand for a lasting awkwardness towards you or vice-versa. As to Sunstreaker… I think with time he'll heal enough for you both to work out the issue between you. I don't think he or Sideswipe want this accident to come between you, not given what you said about Sideswipe thinking you might just be the mech to help give him closure on his ordeal."
Bumblebee made a non-committal noise at Prowl, eager to put off the thought of any such confrontation until at least the heat had gone out of the whole situation.
"Well, sounds to me like Soundwave was already suspicious of our ability to gather information and thwart their schemes every time his cassettes were all out of commission. Really, we all knew it was a matter of time, I'm honestly surprised the mission was repeated so many times before any of the 'Cons caught on." The response to Mirage was somewhat disappointed agreement all around. After Bumblebee had reported his findings from directly before the cassetticons return to function, they had all come to the conclusion that Soundwave's behaviour had been deliberate, and he'd worked doubly hard to speed up his normal rate of repair to flush out the Nemesis' unknown temporary Autobot resident.
None of them were placing the blame on the yellow spy of course. After so many missions with no signs of suspicion from the 'Cons for so long, it was clear he had always done his job to the absolute best of his abilities. Their disappointment was mostly to do with the fact they couldn't use that mission plan to gather information now it had been sussed out by their enemy.
Apart from anything else, they were mostly just grateful Bumblebee got out in one piece…which was really the best outcome, despite what HAD come about as a result of his frantic escape.
Now however, the part Bumblebee dreaded was coming up. He had to explain what he remembered of the end of his mission to the command staff and assignment team-mates.
Taking a leaf out of Prowl's book, the spy composed his faceplates into carefully maintained calm before continuing his personal report.
"Well, as soon as I realised they were up and running again, I started evading Ravage first and foremost. Rumble and Frenzy wouldn't know stealth if it hit them in the face-plate with a laser guided missile, so they really aren't that hard to avoid. I contacted Mirage to initiate an emergency escape. I was hoping to get out via the usual entry-exit point, but Ravage got between it and me. Code Black seemed to make more sense because I could have just led them to the usual breech point and compromised its future viability, plus them being operational meant they already suspected I was there, so they were already expecting something like a hole blown out of their ship."
"That's fine Bumblebee. Your use of Code Black is supported as entirely suitable by the rest of the command staff and both Jazz and Mirage signed off on it with their approval as well." Optimus said calmly, digits lacing together as he leant on the meeting room table.
Bumblebee still couldn't look him in the optic, but he nodded and replied "Thankyou sir." as normally as ever.
"I read the mission report brief, but I'm still not entirely clear on how ya got from evadin' Ravage to landin' in Skywarps quarters." Ironhide spoke up, a slight frown of confusion on his faceplates as he sat back at ease with his arms customarily crossed over his windshield.
"Yea, sorry about that. Directional notes are protocol but they're not very clear to read." Bumblebee apologised, launching into his verbal re-cap once more. "Basically I engaged in evasive tactics, moving wherever I could to avoid detection, unfortunately that didn't leave much chance for me to figure out where I was most of the time so I put down a movement log to try and overlay it with the Nemesis' vent layout. I still couldn't quite figure out in retrospect my exact path, but eventually I made my way up to their elevation tower and left a fake scent marker for Ravage to make him think I tried to exit there. Unfortunately he didn't take it, and on my way to exit point Delta I overheard Skywarp and stopped to listen. That's where he caught up."
"On the topic of that, Prime. We did try to nut out who we thought the Seekers had been talkin' about attackin'. Our main suspicion is The Twins. Given the vague descriptions and concluding' that they would likely hold a pretty strong grudge against 'em, I recommend keepin' 'em covered in battle for a while, and putting a leash on the Jet Judo too. I'll talk to them about the risk, they won't kick up a fuss once they know the intel behind it all." Jazz spoke up levelly, and Optimus nodded slowly.
"Very well Jazz, if you could do that as soon as possible. Did you have any other crew members you should alert to watch for suspicious targeting by the Seekers? Just in case, despite the fact it's unlikely, Starscreams trine were not talking about the Twins."
Jazz nodded solemnly. "Yea, not that I need to , but Red, you and Inferno better keep yer guard up, you two were the only other mechs we could figure might be the targets. Starscream might still be holdin' that old grudge of his against ya."
The Security Director nodded grimly and sighed. "It wouldn't surprise me, but thankyou Jazz. I'll tell Inferno when I return to the security centre."
Optimus nodded and the attention of the meeting returned once more to Bumblebee, who despite keeping a calm demeanour, was cringing inside, given he'd finally come to the part where the 'fragging incident' had all begun. He cycled a quiet ventilation and continued.
" Well, I was just reporting back to Mirage about the information and possibly following it up as much as I could before getting out when Ravage got the drop on me… kinda literally. When he pounced me, we hit the vent grate hard enough to smash through and fell into Skywarps quarters. Unfortunately he'd left his 'cones' all over his berth, and one punctured into my left hip seam. Ravage got a dose from one too from what I could hear, and I ended up rolling onto the floor. A few of the cones had scattered and when I rolled again to avoid Ravage, another one punctured into a line under my right shoulder joint. The effects were fairly immediate and started impairing my cooling systems and processing."
Bumblebee continued with his blow by blow account, detailing as much as he could remember of his escape. The others listened intently, even though they had read the written report which contained pretty much the same information. It was a tedious but crucial part of Special Ops debriefing. In retelling everything as it happened, the rest of the command staff could pick things up that perhaps the operative themselves had missed during their mission. Details like where a mech was when the infiltrator came across them, what they were doing, how they reacted. Things Bumblebee may not have noticed about the mechs around him while running for his life might well be seen as very relevant by one of the others.
He continued up to the point where he wasn't really remembering things anymore, which had been close to the time Skyfire had picked up Hound, Mirage and Himself.
"So why's the report stop there?" Asked Ironhide, sounding slightly disappointed.
Bumblebee willed his faceplate not to heat up and kept his expression neutral. "Because that's where the mission officially ended. The rest was medical, and that's a different report." He answered simply.
"A confidential report, I might add. If you're looking to get answers about how the cyber-narcotic from the cones in Skywarp's room spread from Bumblebee to half the crew Ironhide, I'm afraid you're not going to get them." Ratchet said, tone cool but with a warning edge.
Ironhide gave a grimace that for him passed as a pout. "Aaaaw, so ahm not gonna know who got poor 'Blue? Kid can't even look me in the optics or talk to me straight since the 'Fragg'n Incident'."
"Come on 'Hide, that one's obvious anyway." Jazz said easily with a crooked grin.
"Oh yea? Why, was it you?" The weapons specialist snickered, making Jazz laugh.
"Naw mech, everyone knows it was the Twins. Where you been, under a rock fer fifty millions years or something'?"
The red van chuckled deeply at that and shook his helm. "Is that so? Well then, who got you?"
Bumblebee felt a shiver of anticipation, optics darting to Prowl, who had simultaneously looked his way for a nanoklik.
Jazz just grinned wider and tapped the side of his nasal ridge. "Now that there's a secret 'Hide. Gave mah scouts honour not t' tell. Apart from that, the mech would probably get me back somethin' fierce if I did."
"This is hardly a meeting appropriate topic anyway, Ironhide." Prowl said coolly, scrolling through the notes on his data pad and shooting the red mech a stern glance.
Ironhide responded with a wicked grin. "Ya mean yer not even curious who made Jazz give ya so much love ya couldn't walk straight?"
The tactician's only change in expression when Jazz and Ironhide failed to stifle their chuckles was a slight rise of his orbital ridge.
It was oh so tempting to retort with the possibility that someone had actually gotten him before they'd gotten Jazz… and what's more, it was the truth, but he didn't want to start up a whole new line of speculation for the gossipers. He went with the second best reply that came to his processor instead.
"No, I do not really need to know who caused it THIS time."
Ironhide looked like he'd been slapped in the face with some kind of bizarre object by his expression, and Jazz really couldn't prevent his fit of giggles.
Optimus made a motion as though to roll his optics and Red Alert gave the SIC a 'gee, thanks for that' sort of look. Bumblebee stifled his own grin, and it was Mirage who had to get them all back on track in the end.
"If we're all finished being Sparklings, I'd like to draw attention to the fact that we're probably going to have to bring down more troops from Cybertron in response to Megatrons own resources pull."
Optimus nodded, picking up the cue to change topic, and they all launched into a discussion of the teams they knew, and who would be most appropriate.
Eventually, Not much was decided, and Prime concluded they would need to confer with their contacts of Autobot forces on Cybertron to really be able to decide who it would be best to bring… and who could actually come, given the forces on Cybertron were fairly hard pressed as it was.
When the meeting was finally adjourned, Bumblebee meant to tag along with Mirage to the rec. room, but Jazz waylaid him.
"Bee I just gotta run through somethin' with ya, then I can let ya go to the rec. room. Shouldn't take too long."
Ever trusting of the saboteur, the minibot was quite happy to walk with him wherever it was they were going. He tried not to smile too widely, wondering if this wasn't just a cover for something of a more personal nature.
Unfortunately, what he had failed to notice was Wheeljack being led along in a similar manner. And because he was busy talking to Jazz about possible recruits from Cybertron in greater detail, he also failed to notice they had just gone the long way around to another, smaller planning room.
As soon as they entered and he looked up to spot Ratchet and Wheeljack already there though, the light went on in the beetle's processor.
Before he could even make an excuse, the door lock clicked behind him, and he turned to glare at Jazz, who merely beamed widely.
"Aw don' gimmie that look, this was all Prowl's plan, I'm jus' executin' it. That's our job, remember?"
He ended up laughing at the scowl Bumblebee gave him in response.
"Anyway, without an intervention, this would just get ridiculous, so you're talking about it now or we'll just talk about it for you from what we know."
Ratchet ended up laughing as well when both Bumblebee and Wheeljack turned their iresome glares on him. The humour in it being mostly from the fact neither the engineer or the minibot were very good at pulling off cross looks.
Eventually, the two managed to gather enough bolts to look each other in the optic. Both wore sheepish, apologetic expressions. Wheeljack shuffled a pede nervously, and Bumblebee awkwardly fidgeted with his servos.
Ratchet just moved his helm as if rolling his optics.
"I'm sorry I fragged your processor out Wheeljack. Oh, that's OK Bumblebee, I actually really enjoyed it, but we don't have to kiss to make up. OK Wheeljack, let's just go along like nothing happened."
The deadpan simulated conversation from the CMO broke the tension and Bumblebee couldn't help but smile goofily, Wheeljack's helm lights flashing a colour that indicated he was doing the same under his blast mask.
"Uuuh… yea… kinda what he said." The chief engineer muttered, rubbing the back of his helm.
"I am really sorry Wheeljack. Just to clarify, I don't… I haven't… thought of you THAT way… not for a long time, not that you're not, you know… it's just… you're my friend and… thought you'd be more into mechs who get stuff you do and uh-"
"Bee, mech, quit diggin a hole ya don't need." Jazz chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his helm.
Bumblebee's faceplate flushed a dull red and he bit his lip-plate.
Wheeljack actually laughed lightly and moved to clap him on the shoulder the way he had a million times before. "Aw, Don't worry about it Bee. I was the same. As a friend though, and negating the fact I couldn't really move, can I get your honest opinion on how I rate? Y'know, against other mechs. I mean, you'd know best after-"
"'Jack!" Bumblebee swatted his friend, but laughed all the same, his embarrassment ebbing. He gave the cheery lancia a calculating fake glare and crossed his arms, pretending to be thoughtful.
"Well, the immobilisation thing doesn't matter, because so was everyone else. But if I had to pick out the most notable things… the lights were pretty, but I never thought you'd make that much noise."
The two of them cracked up in juvenile giggling fits. Jazz and Ratchet caught each others optics and nodded in satisfaction. Pretty much just as Prowl predicted, timing and all.
"I'd… hehe… I'd give you a performance assessment, but since you were under the influence I guess your score is disqualified." Wheeljack chuckled, and Bumblebee could only snort and laugh more in response.
"Alright younglings, mission accomplished, off to the rec. room with you and once you've had your energon, it's quiet time for you." Ratchet said with his usual wry humour, shepherding them out of the room.
"Hey, Bee."
"Oh… hey Sides. What's up?" Bumblebee looked up and gave the red Lamborghini a hopeful look, but Sunstreaker was not with his brother, and Sideswipe gave him a subdued smile.
"How is he?" Bumblebee asked quietly over his cube. They were currently nearly the only ones in there. At the opposite end of the rec. room, Trailbreaker and Hoist were chatting over their own cubes, having come off shift. Bee was due to go back on duty in another 7 joors, but at the moment he was refuelling before a shooting match with Bluestreak and Jazz.
Sideswipe gave a half shrug. "He's OK. He's got codes to stop memory defrag during recharge. He's still a bit out of sorts if he's not concentrating on something though. Won't leave our room right now other than to do his patrol shifts. He's worried he'll lash out at the first minibot he sees if I'm not there to stop him."
It was clear Sideswipe was trying to keep up an air of normalcy, of some sort of good spirit, but he sagged with every word to the beetle. Clearly, he had few to talk about the matter with. Bumblebee was just glad he actually WAS talking to him about it and didn't hold a grudge.
The beetle put his servo on one of the black-armoured arms.
"Is there anything I can do to make it up to him? Something… I don't know… let him vent on me somehow? You know I can take a beating, if it comes to that, I just want to do something to fix this, it's my fault he's remembering it all."
Sideswipe shook his helm slightly, and patted Bumblebee's servo lightly in a show of sincerity and affection that was rare for him.
"He doesn't want to hurt you. He would have talked to you by now, but he's worried he won't be able to control himself. He doesn't blame you, not in his spark, but he also can't help the link his processor has made. I already talked to Ratchet about it, and he said something along the lines of re-associating you with positive things in Sunstreaker's meta. We're still not entirely sure how to do that safely though. I think all we can do is give it some time for the moment."
Bumblebee nodded.
Back in the twin's quarters, Sunstreaker lay on his berth, absorbing everything Sideswipe was sending through the bond. It had been Sideswipe's idea to slowly re-associate his brother with the Beetle using their spark link as a mediator.
In the golden mech's opinion, it was one of his brother's more brilliant ideas.
Separated by several rooms distance, the most the red twin could share across their link was what he was hearing and the flashes of a few images of his view of Bumblebee.
Sunstreaker hated the mix of emotions roiling within him at the visions he grasped and the sounds of the conversation.
Bumblebee's voice didn't hurt to hear. It felt… spark warming to hear the genuine concern… for him.
Yeah, he knew other mechs on the Ark liked him really, as much as they growled at him or complained about his vanity or chided his vicious fighting nature. But none of them ever treated him like he required concern or… dare he admit it, care.
The golden mech's faceplate twisted bitterly.
If only they knew just how emotionally messed up he was. It wasn't like he was a sensitive mess that took everything to spark all the time, or broke down behind closed doors at the tiniest things. Most of the time, he was OK really, but if a certain something struck a sore circuit in him, it took ages for him to sort out his systems. To feel normal and content again… he hated it. Utterly. And he couldn't change it. The programming instilled in him at an early age by the abandonment of him and his brother, and his subsequent abuse at the servos of those…
Sunstreaker ventilated deeply and dragged his palms over his faceplate, off lining his optics.
He wasn't going to think about that. He was not. He wouldn't let that attach itself to Bumblebee.
Another image of the beetle as he talked to Sideswipe flashed across his meta.
His tanks gave a sick churn at the same time as his spark throbbed with pain and longing.
What he knew of the spy and what he'd felt for him recently mixed with the old ingrained negativity he'd associated with other minibots.
The yellow mech's sincere optics and regretful tone made Sunstreaker ache to talk to him, but the sight of a minibot's servo touching his brother's arm plating… the memory of how those servos had touched him when he couldn't move and the way similar servos had held him down when he'd been too young and weak to fight it made a sickening anger stab through him.
Sunstreaker rolled to his pedes and paced the room, rubbing roughly at the centre of his helm.
Ugh! He HATED this! He hated feeling this way, thinking these thoughts, why couldn't he just let it go! It was SO long ago, and frankly if it didn't keep bringing up bad memories, he'd have LIKED what Bumblebee had done to him, and the beetle hadn't been able to help it! So WHY couldn't his programming just CHANGE? Why wouldn't his own CPU listen to what his processing and spark was telling it? He liked Bumblebee! The mech was NOT the same as the sick slaggers from the sparkling home. He felt disgusted with himself for even making the connection on a subconscious level.
He just wanted to feel normal… didn't want this to hurt, didn't want to be weak to his emotions.
The golden mech was suddenly aware of a soothing sensation, and realised he had been projecting.
He calmed himself down enough to make an apologetic brush against his twin's calming presence.
Then, quite suddenly, Sideswipe projected a new feeling to him.
Sunstreaker couldn't quite understand it at first… it was somewhere around his middle, but it felt like pressure… nice pressure, comforting, but what…
And then Sideswipe sent him the image of what he was feeling.
Bumblebee was hugging the red twin. Bumblebee hugging anyone wasn't an odd thing. The small mech had always been servos-on with shows of support and comfort.
It felt… much better than he'd thought it would, when he didn't feel a hint of revulsion from the projected image and feelings.
Maybe… it would get better. Maybe he wouldn't be defective forever.
"So I guess your heat was kicked fairly well after the virus thing huh?" Bumblebee muttered, drawing patterns on the datsun's arm as they lay sprawled on Jazz's extended berth. Prowl turned his helm to the beetle with a glint in his optics and the ghost of a coy smile on his lips. "Would it disappoint you if I said yes?"
Jazz chuckled from where he sat on the floor, sorting through some new music CD's Spike had gotten him while on holiday. The little human had returned the day before Bumblebee was due to go back on duty, having been on an around the world trip with Carly. The spy's small friend knew nothing of the events that had taken place in his absence, and Bumblebee intended for it to stay that way for as long as possible.
He was back on shift in the morning, and the three had decided to share the recharge cycle together before they became busy again.
Bumblebee gave the tiniest hint of a pout, but his reply was light and careless.
"Of course not, I was just curious. I figured if you weren't then you might not feel like watching that recording I made on your comms shift a few orns ago."
Jazz's helm whipped around, dropping the CD he was holding into the earth-to-cybertronian music ripper/burner Wheeljack had made him.
Prowl's door wings flicked up on his back in a way reminiscent of a dog pricking it's ears.
"Oh… well I don't have to be in any sort of heat to enjoy a good home holo-vid."
He fairly purred, and grinning, Bumblebee fished the device out of his subspace.
Jazz was a step ahead of him, whipping out his projection set.
They plugged the recording device into the holo-vid player and pointed it at the reflective canvas the saboteur had hung on the wall opposite his berth.
The two officers settled with their back-plates against the wall, Bumblebee between them, and the holographic recording began to play, seemingly in thin air, but that was the trick of the reflective screen.
Either way, it made the mini movie all the more enjoyable to be in simulated 3D as opposed to the flat screens used for Teletrann.
Servos wandered as the vid played, and before it had ever finished, Bumblebee had ended up in Jazz's Lap somehow with Prowl teasing his panel and the Porsche sucking one of his helm horns enthusiastically.
They hadn't actually interfaced since the 'fragging incident', and Bumblebee wouldn't have minded if they hadn't felt like it tonight, but slag it if his CPU hadn't started fantasising more and more the longer he tried to abstain.
Apparently though, he hadn't been the only one.
While Bumblebee was distracted by a particularly hard lick from Jazz's glossa on his helm, the saboteur and tactician worked together to quickly slip the spy's servos behind his back and cuff them in place. Bumblebee gasped, optics surging and back arching automatically when he tested the strength of the cuffs. His engine revved and his lovers smirked wickedly together.
"We've been planning a little payback for you… since you got to immobilise us, we figured you wouldn't mind trying a little bondage yourself." Prowl purred in his audio, slipping talented, teasing digits down the yellow frame as he heard his stifled overload on the holo-vid still playing behind them.
Jazz's engine revved and he moved his legs, causing Bumblebee to spread his own.
The minibot gave a high pitched moan, letting them position him however they pleased.
Another skilled servo, this one belonging to the Porsche, was between his forced open thighs, rubbing exquisitely against his panel. Prowl had begun working down his chassis with his glossa, paying particular attention to his windows.
The spy was a keening, whimpering mess by the time the tactician reached his panel, where he and Jazz slid away the plating to reveal the beetle's interface array. Lubricant had been pooling beneath it, and dripped down onto Jazz's berth, making Prowl moan appreciatively.
Both black and whites opened their own codpieces before they continued to tease the spy.
Bumblebee cried out and quivered as the two put a digit of each of their servos into his port together without preamble.
The slide of their unmatched rhythms over his inner nodes made him buck and whine, trying to move to get more of the blissful sensations infusing his frame, but Prowl and Jazz used their free servos to still his hips. They certainly WERE paying him back…
And then something quite unexpected happened.
Someone pinged his comm. Link.
Bumblebee would have ignored them and feigned recharge…
But it was Sunstreaker.
Biting his lip-plate, he decided to risk opening the communication channel while still quivering from the feeling of the officers digits plunging erratically into him.
Sunny?
Hey Bee. Sides reckoned I should start talking to you like this. No risk of hurting you… I wanted to talk about things… he said you wanted to as well… so…?
Bumblebee gasped and mewled, writhing as Prowl found and concentrated on a set of nodes as far into his valve as he could reach. Some small part of his meta was able to process how awkward Sunstreaker sounded, clearly not that used to talking out emotional issues with others. The minibot's spark went out to him even as his fans whirred from his lovers ministrations.
I… I do want to talk, I really do… you know I didn't mean to, I know you do, but I have to say sorry. I never wanted to hurt you I… couldn't control myself.
It was a hard job, keeping even his digital, closed tone from being effected by what was happening to him physically. Jazz had just started mouthing the back of his neck, and he bowed his body to expose the back of his neck more, simultaneously pressing Prowl's digits deeper. He whined as the pleasure made a little static feedback through his comm. Channel.
Yea I know you are…s'not your fault. I don't… blame you, really, I know I don't, but I… I can't help the programme glitch… I still don't think I could see you yet and not… Bee are you OK? Is something wrong?
Bumblebee moaned and bucked again as Prowl and Jazz both added another digit each, stretching him and teasing nodes in ways he'd never felt before.
Sorry… Sunny, I do want to talk… with you… but timing is, um… oh frag…
Bumblebee really couldn't help letting the pleasured exclamation slip into his comm. call, not realising he'd digitally uttered it rather than out loud until it was too late.
It was the only clue, apparently, that Sunstreaker needed.
Are you… wait… are you in the middle of an Interface?…
The toughliners coy tone relieved the spy… he had feared for a moment that Sunstreaker might be put off, maybe offended, or it might set back his chances to talk over their issues. But apparently, the golden twin was almost gleeful about catching him in the middle of a frag.
Uuh… k-kind of… yes… they um… they've got me cuffed. S'payback.
Bumblebee could have sworn he heard the rev of an engine over the line. He gasped and keened out loud as two sets of two digits began pumping him in counterpoint, his port rippling over them as they got a little faster.
Ah, the two mystery lovers… So I've caught them in the act. Hey… you want to make me feel better? You know we have to associate you with good things in my processor again right?
Y-Yeah? I want… to make it up to you- oooooh primus not there!-
Bumblebee's engine squealed and he keened loudly as Prowl swirled his glossa around one of his midriff hot-spots briefly.
The beetle heard a soft snicker over the line… obviously he'd done it again with the projecting of real sound into the line.
Well, we can start right now… how about you say everything to them that I tell you to, and see how long it takes them to figure out you've got me on the line?
Bumblebee shivered, moaning as the TIC and SIC finally removed their digits. Clearly, as they repositioned him and re-inserted their fingers, they still had no idea he was talking to anyone via comm. link… and how could he deny Sunstreaker? Even if he didn't feel that he owed him so much, that sultry tone and his current state of arousal would have been all the convincing he needed.
Okay… what do you want me to say?
Bumblebee bucked and his optics flashed as the toughliner instructed him secretly. He gasped, working up his courage against the heady pleasure of his port being ravished to say his lines right.
"Oooooh… if you w-want to punish me…nnngh! Pro-properly… then I should be fragged like a c-cyber wolf…. Uuunh…."
Both Prowl and Jazz seemed slightly taken aback by the beetles words, sharing a wide optic's glance, before Jazz's engine growled… and so did his vocaliser.
"Ooooh is that so? Better be careful whatcha get yerself in for Bee… ah've had experience with that kinda punishment. You sure you've been baaaad enough to deserve it?"
The purr in his tone and the way Prowl nipped at the edges of his hip-plates made Bumblebee quiver with anticipation.
Bumblebee relayed Jazz's words himself without revealing his lovers identity, and Sunstreaker's answer was immediate, and apparently amused.
"Mmmmmm, yea… f-fragged so many bots… better claim me properly… mechs might start thinking I'm a berth hopper…"
Prowl chuckled at this, and ran his glossa all the way up Bumblebee's front, digit still rubbing slowly with Jazz's inside his valve, making the spy writhe.
"I doubt that any of them think you're open slather… but I like the idea of claiming you…"
Bumblebee once again repeated his lovers words to his secret dictator and felt a flush of heat rush through him at the golden twin's next directions.
"To decide… wh-who claims me first… I guess you two better fight for dominance… and put me in my place by making me watch… from underneath."
Bumblebee moaned as their digits delved deeper and slower, but the sound was as much a reaction to their ministrations as what Sunstreaker was explaining he wanted him to do. He was very good at giving detailed descriptions of positions.
Jazz chuckled softly in his audio. "Love this roleplay kink o' yours Bee, but what position exactly do you have in processor?"
The spy whispered to him what the golden Twin had outlined secretly. Jazz's visor lit up and he gave the nearest yellow horn a lick and a nip.
"Primus I love that dirty little CPU o' yours."
Jazz proceeded to lay the beetle down on his back, unlocking the cuffs only to put them on again once he'd placed Bumblebee's servos over his helm. He and Prowl then knelt either side of the minibot and glossa wrestled to decide who would be fragging who over the spy's faceplates. In the end, apparently Prowl won… neither of the black and whites were any the wiser that Bumblebee was describing the events in depth over his comm. to a purring Sunstreaker. He wasn't letting slip who his lovers were, of course, but the Lamborghini didn't seem to care about that.
When they were done kissing, Jazz shuffled up to straddle Bumblebee, fitting his knees snugly to the yellow mech's sides, before Prowl got behind him and straddled the outsides of Jazz's legs, positioning them so their interface units were directly above the spy's faceplates. Prowl bowed Jazz down, and he complied with a purr. Bumblebee moaned and squirmed at the sight of Jazz's dripping valve and twitching spike above him… so near, but just out of reach. Prowl's own unit came into view rather quickly as the tactician lined himself up.
Unbelievable lust coursed through the minibot and he gasped, watching from his front row seat as Prowl slowly penetrated Jazz, growling deeply from his engine as the saboteur moaned.
Bumblebee keened softly himself, cooling fans buzzing to life as the Datsun slowly hilted himself, before drawing out, spike slick with the Porsche's translucent purple lubricant.
Primus Sunstreaker, I fragging love you right now…
There was a chuckle over the line, and then an appreciative hum as Bumblebee sent a black and white zoomed in image capture of his lovers interface units. The minibot couldn't help himself, it was just too hot and he figured he owed it to the golden twin.
Slag, I could paint that it's so gorgeous… better off making you watch me and Sides do that and get a picture. That would look even better, of course.
Sunstreaker laughed softly again at the moan Bumblebee replied with to that suggestion.
Bumblebee then squeaked and mewled as something wet and firm suddenly touched his cord.
AH! S-sunny… frag he's started licking my spike… oh Primus I'm not gonna last feeling that and seeing this and- OOOOH!
The loud howl of pleasure the spy let out when Jazz suddenly deep-intaked him made the saboteur hum in approval.
"Oh Primus almighty Jazz! I-I'm not gonna last if you keep that up!"
Bumblebee puffed through his vents, keening as the Porsche let up a little and went back to teasing him with flicks and laps from his glossa. Prowl had picked up pace now, and Bumblebee keened as he watched their components slide together. Lubricant dripped down onto his faceplate, and he lapped up any that landed near his mouth. He ached to reach up his helm and eat them both up while they went at it, but he just couldn't reach that high.
As if reading his processor, Jazz began sliding his legs apart, which moved Prowl's, and their interfacing equipment got closer to the minibot's faceplates.
As soon as he could, the beetle growled lustfully and craned his neck cables up, careful not to get hit by Prowl's moving pelvis as he swiped his glossa at their arrays.
The Porsche gasped and mewled as Bumblebee licked hard at the base of his spike while Prowl continued driving into him.
Prowl too gasped and moaned when the minibot turned his attention to him. He felt a glossa brushing across the entrance of his port as he moved back and forward. Deciding he'd make it easier for Bumblebee, he magnetised his spike hub and plugged into Jazz smoothly.
He was rewarded with Jazz's moan and Bumblebee's glossa pressing properly into his now still valve.
Mmmmm, tastes even nicer when it's all hot from movement.
Bumblebee practically purred across his comm. link, glossa buried in the datsun's port.
He then let out a staticy cry into the tactician as Jazz took his whole cord again and sucked hard.
As Overload crashed over him and static burst across his comm. link, he felt Prowl quiver above him, his port rippling as he too overloaded into Jazz, who keened around the minibots spike.
Jazz was right there with them, his own cable buzzing against Bumblebee's chest-plating as charge swept through him.
The three rode the roiling waves of climax until Prowl had to pull him and Jazz up away from the spy before they collapsed on him.
Bumblebee thought briefly he wouldn't have minded that much having their still joined interface components pressed into his faceplate, but his remaining arousal had more to look forward to anyway.
You still there Bee? Enjoying yourself?
The beetle moaned softly while he and his lovers took a moment to rest and let their cooling systems stop them from overheating too much. The amusement in the golden mech's voice was undertoned with what was unmistakeably his own arousal.
Yeeea. Slag… I really do have to do that with you and 'Sides sometime.
The approving revv of an engine was audible over the line.
Speaking of which, he's just walked in.
There was the slight crackle of another line keying into the comm. frequency, and Sideswipe's curious voice joined them.
What's this about you being in the middle of a frag? Don't suppose we could get a location and come crash the party?
Bumblebee fought the urge to laugh and decided instead to purr his engine.
Sorry 'Sides, no dice. Anyway, Sunstreaker is already involved enough as it is. I'm his puppet at the moment.
There was a pleased sounding rev from the red twin at the same time as Jazz groaned in satisfaction.
Neither of them has done you cyber-wolf style yet have they?
The minibot re-onlined his optics and they landed on Jazz's deep blue visor and sultry smirk. Bumblebee returned his own look of coy anticipation.
No, but I have the feeling I'm about to.
The yellow mech listened to the golden twin's next instructions as Jazz picked himself up and dragged himself over the spy's frame, engine purring and touches teasing.
"So, sure you've got enough stamina to claim me?" the beetle murmured as seductively as he could.
Jazz chuckled and nipped at Bumblebee's neck cables, making him squirm.
"What do you think, Bug? You're gonna keep feelin' just how mine you are for at least 5 joors."
"How OURS he is… make it an orn that he'll keep feeling it." Came Prowl's deep, satisfied vocals.
Bumblebee moaned softly at the promise and let Jazz position him. He was still cuffed, and he supported his helm and shoulders on his elbows, knees slightly spread and aft elevated just enough for Jazz to line up with his own legs outside of the spy's.
Oh, I always wanted some-bot to say this…Sunstreaker made a quick interjection as Bumblebee explained how the saboteur had him.
Bumblebee actually nearly sighed at just how cheesy the line was, but he complied all the same, in his best sexy purr.
"Mmmmm, home Jazz, and don't spare the horses…"
Where the Frag did you pick that stupid line up Sunny?
Humans of course. One of their oldey timey soaps or something, I've always liked it for some reason.
Yea, he makes me say it to him sometimes. Guess every bot has to have their one stupid 'facing quirk huh.
Sideswipe snickered, but all Bumblebee could reply with was a loud keen as Jazz leant over him and started to drive his spike into his over-sensitised port.
His sensors had already been on fire with arousal and nothing touching them… but after his spike overload his internal muscle cables had clenched the valve walls tight and Jazz's thick cord was stretching him so wonderfully, he couldn't help but tremble and cry out.
"You better decide whether you're the dom or the sub here Bee, or I'll decide for ya 'n there'll be no contestin' it." Jazz purred with both amusement and pleasure in his tone.
The spy hadn't realised he'd offlined his optics until soft lip-plating met his own and swallowed his moans.
He onlined them and groaned in a lustful haze as he found Prowl eagerly brushing his glossa against his.
The minibot continued to keen and mewl into the long, heated kiss as Jazz began driving in and out of him powerfully, the black servos resting on the front of his hip plating to press the small yellow pelvis against his with each thrust.
There was a growl from the Porsche's engine, and then a hot glossa lapped across the back of his neck cables. Bumblebee shuddered and gasped, and Prowl's engine purred loudly as the tactician moved away.
The beetle whined at the loss of contact, but then squeaked as the tactician got onto his back in front of him and lifted up his arms. Jazz helped lift the spy, continuing to pump lazily in and out of the small port, while Prowl slid himself in under Bumblebee. The datsun placed Bumblebee's bound servos down on his bumper.
Jazz seemed to know what the other black and white mech was up to, because he manipulated Bumblebee's hips into a better, slightly lower position and began really pounding into him.
The spy cried out loudly as he felt Prowl start to mouth at the hub of his pressurised spike beneath him, and whimpered in ecstasy as Jazz's denta scraped the back of his neck.
He tried to fondle along the datsun's bumper, but the tacticians servos restrained his own so that he really couldn't move between the two mechs.
As always, the restriction sent Bumblebee's arousal into overdrive.
Oh frag, oh frag, oh frag, S-sssssu-unnyyyy, they've got me between them and one is pounding me and the other is sucking on the tip of my spike and oh Primus almighty I'm going to…
Bumblebee howled out his overload as Jazz bit the back of his neck cables firmly, driving into him like a jackhammer while Prowl deep-intaked him as the saboteur had done before.
The climax seemed so unprimusly intense he was sure he'd offline, but somehow he managed to stay online long enough for Jazz to magnetise and plug in, flooding him with enough spark energy to send him keening into a secondary overload.
His systems ended up resetting, and by the time his optics flickered back on, Jazz was spooning him and humming satedly while Prowl lay the opposite way, facing him and smiling when he regained lucidity.
"Hope you're not out for the count there… the alpha hasn't had his turn yet." The 2IC purred in a voice that sent a wonderful shiver down the beetles back-strut.
You still there Bee?
Sunstreaker's voice was slightly breathless, and Bumblebee's smile widened, Prowl taking it as a signal that he was ready for the next round.
You sound a bit distracted there Sunny… Audio show to your liking so far?
There was a loud moan over the line and Sideswipe laughed into the comm.
I'm making sure he enjoys it. Keep telling us what they're doing to you, so we can copy it.
Bumblebee acknowledged and continued a closed comm. running monologue of what he was doing, and what was being done to him.
Prowl had gotten him back to his elbows and knees, his port and spike still buzzing from the last overload. The Tactician was petting his plating teasingly while he seemingly decided what to do.
Jazz grinned deviously and rolled onto his back, spreading his legs and looking like a begging turbo-fox.
"Would the alpha grant this berth mate a taste of what he's gonna give the beta?"
Bumblebee couldn't see it, but he was sure Prowl was smirking.
The spy was manoeuvred into place, Jazz taking his cuffed arms and placing them up over his own helm so that the yellow mech was forced to rest his chest plating on the saboteurs.
Prowl held his hip plating firmly and teased his cord into pressurising fully again.
He then lined them both up, and with one slow thrust, penetrated Bumblebee and pushed the beetles spike into Jazz.
Both mechs moaned, but the sound over the minibots comm. was one of slight disappointment.
Damn, need three mechs for this job. Make them go slow Bee.
Sideswipe had that tone that suggested he had a plan, so the beetle played along. It was for Sunstreaker after all, so if he wanted him to be tortured with drawn out pleasure then… so be it.
Bumblebee mewed and pretended to wince slightly.
"Sorry… I'll go slowly for a while" Prowl murmured in his audio.
Bumblebee nodded and thanked him, shivering from the blooming ebbs of another charge. Warm tingles of pleasure raced over his sensor net, spreading from his valve and spike and the contact points between the other two mechs.
It wasn't three kliks before a chorus of Lamborghini engines sounded over his internal comm. and Sunstreaker's deeply aroused vocals told him to resume activities.
Even after only the short amount of time spent holding back, Bumblebee could see Jazz was being pushed to incomprehensibility by his pleasure charge.
"I'm OK I think." Bumblebee panted, quivering as his valve clenched over Prowl's spike while it slid deeply into him, pressing against his socket and pinging with arcing charges from the tacticians overcharged spike.
Prowl growled deeply from his engine and picked up the pace, driving in smoothly and slickly. Holding off had certainly made the spy exceptionally well lubricated, and the same could be said for Jazz, who moaned and arched into him, engine revving hard as his port quivered.
Hey… Sun… who did you?…
Bluestreak, who else? Sunstreaker purred over the comm.
He's filling in for your position right now.
I suggested Wheeljack again, but apparently he's busy, and Blue was closer anyway. Sideswipe added, sounding just a little breathless.
Wheeljack again, what? Never mind, Blue doesn't know we're-
Sunstreaker laughed softly over the line. No, of course not. Much as I love him, I know damn well how bad he is at keeping his mouth shut. He won't suspect anything, us randomly capturing him for a 'face isn't out of the ordinary.
Heh, y-yeah, I kno-OOOOOOH! NNNnnn… you don't really hide it from mechs on the mmm-monitors.
Both of the twins laughed at the interjections to his internal communications.
Primus, I want to make Blue do that… what are they doing to you over there?
Sideswipe said eagerly.
MMMmmmm, the one on top is rolling his hi-hips around every time he thrusts into m-me and below… clenching on my spike… f-frag now he's going for my hor-OOOOOOHHHHH!
Bumblebee's line filled with static as Jazz began pinching and rubbing expertly at his horns.
"H-harder… pleeeease…"
The minibot let the begging carry through his internal comm. But it wasn't at all prompted. Prowl and Sunstreaker happened to moan at it at the same time, the sounds sending more quivers of excitement and arousal through the spy.
The tactician began to snap his hips forward swiftly, pulling out until his spike nearly left the clenching, tight little valve, pulling the yellow hips back with him so that Bumblebee's cord slid in and out of Jazz a fair way.
Jazz writhed and mewled at the varying angles of penetration as he moved his hips. The beetle atop him gasped and panted, engine roaring as the double onslaught of sensation brought him back up. He voiced his thoughts over his comm., and the twins fed hungrily off his aroused narrating, copying it and commenting on how good it felt.
When Prowl started to nip and lap at the back of his neck cables, Bumblebee bowed his back to try and press more into the thrusts. Jazz's engine rumbled deeply and he wrapped his arms around the spy's shoulders, squeezing the minibot's tyres and reaching up to kiss and nip along the edge of the yellow helm.
"NNnn, please, take me… claim me, I'm yours, please…"
Bumblebee couldn't take the teasing as he hovered on the edge of bliss, circuits and sensors on fire and whole frame quivering with the force of his incredible arousal.
He heard Sunstreaker grunt out his release, Sideswipe following suit with a keen and crying out Bluestreak's name.
For the briefest nanoklik he wondered if his voice had tipped them over, but then Prowl reacted to his request and he couldn't think. Denta sunk into his neck cables, hot ex-vents and that powerful engine pressing into him as the datsun drove his spike hard and fast a few more times and then connected.
Unconsciously, Bumblebee copied him and plugged into Jazz.
The flow of energy from Prowl to him to Jazz was so incredible and perfect, he screamed out the ecstasy of his overload so loud he thought the whole base would hear.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of four mechs moaning, two over his comm. and two beside him.
The rolling waves of pleasure continued as both black and white mechs bucked against him, until they all collapsed in a sated heap, circuits buzzing as if they'd drunken some of the twins high-grade.
Mmmmmm, we gotta do that again some time. I think I like synchronised audio interfacing. Sunstreaker purred inside his head.
Heh. Maybe you just invented a new sport. In which case, we won, 'cause we overloaded first.
Sideswipe quipped cheekily.
Bumblebee couldn't help the lazy little giggle he let out, and beneath him, Jazz's visor dimly lit up again and the saboteur canted his helm at him. "Wha's so funny?"
Mmmmm, I concede defeat. I know I'm no match for you guys in this department… Oh, should I tell them by the way? Bumblebee panted over his line, fans buzzing softly as the metal of his armour pinged from cooling.
There was a hum of thought from Sunstreaker, and the beetle could nearly see the wicked smile no doubt spreading over his features.
Why not. After all, they ought to know who is allowing them to claim his pet.
Bumblebee couldn't quite describe how glad it made him feel to still be Sunstreaker's 'pet'. At the very least, he knew now that the golden mech didn't outright hate him for what happened, and that lifted a weight from his tank that had been dragging him down for joors.
He sighed through his vents and smiled at Jazz coyly.
"Tonight's interface was brought to you by Sunstreaker, and endorsed by Sideswipe."
The Porsche gave him a most peculiar look, and atop him, Prowl twitched, wings whooshing the air slightly as he flapped them with surprise.
"What are you talking about?" The tactician asked with clear confusion in his tone.
The spy decided not to torture his logic chip by making him guess and outright explained.
"Um… when we got started, someone pinged my comm. I would have ignored it, but it was Sunny. I didn't really know what else to do, I couldn't just fob him off, but then he kinda… figured out himself from how I sounded what I was doing… and then decided he wanted to get involved."
"Aaaah… that explains it then. Cause I never picked you for the role-play type honestly." Jazz said softly with a rumble from his engine.
"So… Primus, you weren't broadcasting-"
"No, of course not Prowl. I made sure not to give away who you were at all. I just told them what you were doing to me as it happened." the yellow mech explained quickly with a soothing purr from his engine.
He squeaked as he felt a nip to the back of his neck cables again and Prowl began to move, pulling out of him carefully. The movement against his hyper sensitive walls sent tingles all through his frame and he whimpered.
"You really have been a naughty mech… we're going to have to punish you again soon." The tactician rumbled beside his audio before nipping a horn lightly.
Bumblebee's engine gave a soft rev at the promise, but he remained slumped against Jazz, who was running his digits lightly along the minibot's backstrut.
Bumblebee moved to reciprocate the soft caresses, but with a soft clatter, he was reminded that his wrists were still cuffed and looped behind Jazz's helm.
The saboteur grinned at him in that ominous way of his that made the beetle's diodes buzz.
"Hey, who's to say ya shouldn't be punished directly after the crime? I got energon, and the off cycle is still young here…"
A growling rev from both the Datsun and Minibot only served to widen the grin splitting Jazz's faceplate.
"Should I be getting the straps?" Prowl asked smoothly, Bumblebee gasping at the very thought, feeling Jazz's valve spasm around him at the mention.
Hey Sunny… I'll talk to you later, OK… I think they just picked up the gauntlet you threw down.
~End Chapter 12 Part 1~