#There's Always Someone Stronger 12: Facing Death#
After several vorns, Saltem was no longer so dependent on Fortis Bronte for companionship. Springer had become a regular interface partner, as well as a couple other warriors that knew how to be discreet and respected the enslaved mech's desire for privacy. His only lament with his interface life was that they all seemed to want a rough, dominating interface. At least Fortis Bronte was willing to indulge him with interfaces that weren't quite so harsh from time to time.
And Fortis Bronte... Despite his expanding horizons, the older warrior was still his closest companion, the one he trusted completely and felt safe with. He still spent his recharge cycles in the older mecha's quarters, with or without a warm frame next to his.
Speaking of the mech... Saltem smirked as he rushed the unsuspecting warrior, tackling him into a conveniently open closet, hitting the controls on the way in so the door closed behind them. "Hello, lover," he purred lowly, thrusting his hips insistently against the other mech's.
"Hello, lover," he groaned as his field flared brightly with sudden arousal and anticipation. His valve cover slid open and he shifted to make the penetration easy for the bigger mech.
Saltem's hands were on his hips and thighs, easily holding the older mech in the perfect position as he thrust in, pausing a moment to relish being fully engulfed by his lover. It was a sensation they both relished, along with the oh-so-temporary sensation of a spike sliding along a barely lubricated valve when the recipient really wanted it.
Fortis Bronte shuddered and wrapped his arms around his lover's neck to pull himself in for a kiss.
Saltem returned the kiss, glossa thrusting into his lover's mouth as his hips began slow, but powerful movements. The larger mech enjoyed teasing them both, dominating in a way the older mech liked while going at a pace he himself preferred. He pulled one of his lover's legs over his hip, forcing a change in the angle of his lover's valve and allowing his spike to hit other sensor clusters in it.
Barely three thrusts in and Fortis Bronte was already so slick and hot it was impossible to tell he'd been surprised by his lover. His helm tipped back, both offering and pleading for attention to his throat cables. The absolute domination was a massive turn on, but so was the iron self control of his lover to keep the thrusts slow and deep.
It felt so good.
The larger mech took the invitation, alternating nips alone the cables with strokes by his glossa, letting the appendage wiggle slightly between the cables in a way nothing else could quite match. He growled, the valve around his spike feeling so good, so right, as he maintained his pace and felt the slow burn of pleasure filling them. The field woven so easily into his spoke of matching pleasure and desire, of enjoyment at being dominated and equal enjoyment at the slow burning buildup.
Fortis Bronte's hands gripped the strong shoulders as he gasped and rocked into each thrust, encouraging his lover to speed up without any expectation that he would. It was half the fun of this, to have no control while knowing he'd be taken care of.
Saltem growled again, ignoring the silent requests to speed up. Instead he moved his lover's other leg around his waist, supporting all of Fortis Bronte's weight as he maintained the same slow pace. Pleasure coiled tighter in their entwined fields, made all the stronger by the slow, measured build up.
The larger mech groaned and bit down on shoulder armor as that coil finally sprung. He managed to maintain his pace even as transfluid flooded the valve clenched down on him and electric fire ran through their fields.
Fortis Bronte cried out sharply at the wisp of pain mixed in with the intense pleasure of an overload triggered by a slow build and the rush of charged transfluid. He trembled through it, relishing the strength and endurance of his lover to continue pumping so steadily through the crest and slow descent from it.
Saltem finally slowed and stilled as the last of the charge ebbed away, and captured his lover's mouth in a tender kiss that was returned, sweet and long, as Fortis Bronte gradually slid his pedes to the floor. He nipped lightly at his lover's lips as the kiss broke, his spike slipping free and retracting back into his housing. Then he began to trail kisses and nips down the older mech's body, hands back on the other mech's hips.
He could feel it the moment his intentions registered with his lover. Fortis Bronte moaned as his frame stiffened, shivering in anticipation as his spike quickly pressurized between them. Saltem hummed as he gazed hungrily at the prize before him as he knelt. Then he leaned in and let his glossa swirl around the base of his lover's spike before nipping and licking his way towards the tip.
Strong brown hands caressed his helm and audial antennae, stroking and encouraging in a way Fortis Bronte hadn't dared the first few times. Now though he knew that Saltem wouldn't take it wrong, knew that Saltem was in charge no matter what Fortis Bronte tried or cried out. That knowledge made the attention all the more potent.
The eagerness in the younger mech's field was another sign of how far he had come from the mech who had performed this because he was asked, not because he wanted to. Now the mouth that began to slowly engulf the spike was willing and Fortis Bronte roared as his hips were held still against his effort to thrust into that blissful mouth.
Saltem used every trick his lover had taught him to pleasure his spike, sending his lover's charger higher. He was a quick study when he put his processors to something, and getting all those delightful noises out of Fortis Bronte was well worth learning.
He could track the charge by so many clues, and they were all pointing to being mere nanokliks away when the base alarm began blaring.
"All personnel to battle stations. This is not a drill. We are under attack." Prowl's voice commanded over the intercom and all internal comms.
Saltem snarled in annoyance as he pulled back off of his lover's spike. It was too late for Fortis Bronte to stop himself. The pleasure had already crested and with it a burst of hot, thick, sticky transfluid ejected right onto Saltem's face.
Saltem jerked slightly, surprised as his face was coated in two more bursts before the charge faded enough for his lover to shut it down and come to his senses enough to grasp what was happening with the sirens and spoken alarm.
"We need to go," Fortis Bronte said as he tried to organize himself enough to do so. His balance was still shaky and his systems dancing with extra energy that had nowhere to go.
"We do," Saltem nodded, quickly rising to his feet. He wanted to clean off his face, but they didn't have the time. He wiped the worst off with a hand and followed his lover out of the closer, into the stream of mecha that looked chaotic but was actually a well-orchestrated and drilled response.
As front line warriors, they both joined the stream heading outside the base's protective walls and into the chaos of a battle. Their opponents were organics larger than they were and heavily armored. While they weren't advanced technologically, they were powerful enough that warriors like Fortis Bronte and Saltem were especially needed on the battlefield.
Saltem roared as they reached the field outside, immediately charging one of the blue-green organics. Next to him his lover was soon pede deep in organic goo.
"Hey Saltem, you like taking fluid to the face?" someone laughed nearby over the pounding of Cybertronian fists against heavy organic armor and the thuds of heavy organics using their mass against Cybertronians.
Saltem growled but otherwise ignored the jibe, instead working on pulling off the metal plates the organics had attached to their natural armor so he could do real damage. A strike to his helm dropped him to his knees, but did little damage to armor designed to survive some of the heaviest weapons Cybertron had developed.
"You look good on your knees," someone else taunted him. "You going to be there when the fighting's over?"
"Shut up!" the large mech snarled as he yanked the nearest organic down onto the ground and plunged his hand between armor plates to crush vital organs before pulling away to target the next opponent.
"But you're so hot when you get wound up," the first one rumbled, throwing one organic into another. "And you've got no one to fill your valve, or that mouth."
"Keep your processor on the fight," Saltem replied as he took down another organic, pouring his building rage into their foes to keep from turning on those supposedly on his side.
"But it's what comes after the fight that we fight for," the second cheered as he leapt on top of an organic and used a sharp cable to decapitate it.
::Ignore them,:: Fortis Bronte's comm tried to sooth him despite the trouble the older warrior was in.
"You are not touching me!" Saltem snarled louder at the mechs, rage building, starting to cloud his thoughts as he ripped through organic after organic.
Their laughs echoed in his audials as he focused on moving away from them and towards his lover, a mecha he knew he could trust. It didn't take long to catch sight of the brown warrior, now covered in sticky red organic fluids, they had gotten separated from the main force when those he'd been fighting with were taken down.
There was a large knot of organics converging around him, far more than most could handle at once. Saltem charged towards them with a roar, needing to rip and maim and send vital fluids spilling to the ground. Organics obliged him, getting in the way, attacking and stomping. Their mass was such that a body blow hurt and dented armor, even on Saltem's massive frame.
He was only ten paces away when he saw Fortis Bronte knocked down and one of the organics rear up, long spikes visible on its forelimb feet before it dropped its full mass on the old warrior, driving the spikes deep into his chassis and crushing the thick chest armor inward.
"No!" Saltem cried out, rushing towards that organic, to get it away from Fortis Bronte. Springer and another helo dove in from above and the other side, laying waste to the organics in the area and covering Saltem when he reached Fortis Bronte's side. The old warrior was already graying, his fluids streaming out from shattered lines. It wasn't the physical damage that had done him in. The crushing to his chassis had broken his spark casing open.
::Medic!:: Springer was roaring over the comm. ::Critical injury!::
Saltem dropped to his knee next to his lover, grabbing his hand. "Fortis Bronte, no..." he whispered hoarsely. "Hang on, please."
A large black form landed next to him with a ground-shaking thud and Axe was there, hands working quickly before anger and sadness flared in the ancient's field. "Saltem," he demanded the warrior's attention as he stood. "He's gone. Fight on."
Saltem trembled, shaking his helm. Rage and guilt built in his processor. He should have been there, if he had seen the danger Fortis Bronte was in sooner, this wouldn't have happened. The large mech roared his anguish to the sky before throwing himself back in the fray, not caring as he tore through the ranks of organic warriors. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being subtly guarded from above by Springer, Axe or even Dai Atlas himself on occasion.
The rest of the battle passed in a blur, and he only halted when Dai Atlas sent out the order for all the warriors to stand down. Saltem stood still, helm lowered as he trembled. His armor had seen better orns, but the large warrior didn't notice the pain. He was still, lost as to what to do. While he felt a large airframe land next to him, it wasn't until Axe put a hand on his shoulder that he managed to start processing again.
"Come on. Let's clean up this mess and get some recharge," Axe said quietly.
"It was my fault," he whispered, as if he hadn't heard.
"Even if it was, this is a warrior's existence," Axe said gravely. "We extinguish young."
"It shouldn't have been this battle, though," Saltem replied.
Axe shook his helm. "I know," he murmured, trying to urge Saltem to move. "It hurts. You can't let it break you."
Saltem reluctantly began to follow the SIC, but he was hollow, on autopilot. Nothing had changed, really… Yet everything had.