PAINT STREAKS
AN: The avatar was approved and provided by Blitz-Krazi. I'm just in absolute AWE that someone would create such a wonderful piece of art for me. I have no artistic talent and I'm just in awe *and jealous* of those who can put thought to paper. THANK YOU SO MUCH! *massive hugs and tears of joy*
So, in honor of the story's new picture, ya'll get an update quicker than normal. ;)
AN2: As always, I don't know where this came from and I take no responsibility to how it's read and the possible consequences.
I just write what the twins say and what I witness.
All parties are innocent until blackmail payments have been made.
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*Poke*
"Stop."
*Poke* *Poke*
"Touch me again, you die."
"You sound just like that first femme we fell for."
"Looking back…." Sunstreaker sighed, his gaze shifting to the distant past. "We could have done better."
"Always."
Sideswipe shifted on the edge of his berth that was situated right next to his twins. They were in an isolation ward in Polyhex. Their convoy was attacked on the way back to Iacon and as they scrambled for cover, Sunstreaker took a hit and the twins woke up in the dull orange drab of a med bay. Though judging by the soot and cracked foundations, it wasn't in common use.
*Poke*
CLANG!
Sideswipe went sailing off his berth and landed flat on his back, his dazed optics barely perceiving the mocking orange ceiling. His focus shifted to the white blob that indicated Ratchet's return to the isolation ward. A sparkling like chirp came from Sideswipe's vocalizer, the circuits trying to recalibrate after Sunstreaker's strike.
Ratchet's face was impassive, a first for him.
"Idiot," Ratchet said, ignoring the infantile chirps and going to his true patient. "How do you feel?"
"I'll slagging kill you for this!" Sunstreaker growled, bristling though his frame did little to intimidate.
"Doubt it," Ratchet muttered, unfazed by the murderous stare.
"What were you thinking?" Sunstreaker screamed. The noise brought Sideswipe back to awareness and on his pedes in an instant, though he swayed slightly from the disorientation. He sat down on his berth with a groan.
"I was trying to save your aft!" Ratchet snarled back.
"Next time, DON'T!" Sunstreaker snapped, earning a thrum of anger from his twin. Sunstreaker sputtered, not used to being on the receiving end of such hateful, negative emotions. He was usually the one projecting them. Of course, he was usually in his own frame and not inhabiting the sleek, sexy curves of a very attractive femme. He was used to rough and tumble attitudes, fearful looks, and intimidating physically and having a scary reputation. His voice could move troops and his dark scowl could make the most seasoned of warrior wet themselves with oil. His very presence was enough to put everyone in the vicinity on guard in case his notorious temper flared to life. Not to mention his usual body was honed, polished, flawlessly designed and carried with a deity's grace. His voice was deep and commanding. His hands strong and formidable, his interfacing ability, the thing of legends.
Now he had a feminine lilt, petite stature, curves in the wrong (or right) places and his (her) limbs paled to his usual strength. And no matter how hard he tried, he lacked the physical presence to intimidate.
And Sideswipe wouldn't stop staring.
And the inclination Sideswipe was naturally having to the feminine frame was bleeding through the bond, despite his best efforts to control it.
So now, Sunstreaker also wanted to seduce himself.
Slagging great. Why couldn't Ratchet just let the stray mortar rocket hit him and extinguish his spark?
A hurt feeling accompanied that thought. He gave his brother an apologetic look that was shook off with an aggravated growl. Blast! He was only in this frame for a few waking moments and he was already going soft!
"Next time, I'll shoot you myself!" Ratchet snapped with a serious face, but anyone who knew him well enough could understand the tense posture in his frame. He hated to lose patients. And he most certainly wasn't going to lose his favorite pair. It was only by quick thinking that he had thought to transfer Sunstreaker's spark and processor into the femme frame uncovered at the vacated medical facility they were using as shelter until reinforcements could arrive. Someone either didn't survive to receive their upgrade, or circumstances forced them to leave the shell behind. Either way, Ratchet, and Sunstreaker, was lucky.
Sunstreaker's golden body was in the corner of the impromptu isolation ward. Spark transference is risky business and requires a sterile environment. Ratchet had to improvise. It was no where near the perfection he upheld in his normal medbay back at Iacon, but it had served its purpose. Sunstreaker had survived the transfer, an angsty Sideswipe standing by in case he was needed to merge with his twin to filter and stabilize his unsteady spark.
When Sunstreaker first woke up and saw his battered, lifeless shell, a thin curl of smoke was still escaping from the blasted hole in his chest so near his spark chamber, he thought he had terminated and was now haunting his old body. Then he jolted upright at sensing his twin's presence nearby. When he sat up on the berth, a flash of lust from his brother assaulted his spark before quelling into general attraction. And when Sunstreaker looked at the body that responded to his mental command, he paused. Where golden plating used to reside, he was now adorned in a pale lavender shade, with black accents that showed off the gentle curves of his legs, slender waist, and a protrusion on his chest that most certainly wasn't there when he woke up earlier that day.
Ratchet glared, his armor puffing in a display of superiority. He knew he was stronger than Sunstreaker right now. Ratchet was mean, and could hold his own in the medical ward, often subduing mechs twice his size. But he could never match Sunstreaker for strength, agility, or fighting style. Now he could easily dominate the femme frame, his burly physique more than capable of subduing the unruly front liner.
Sunstreaker pouted, not liking the fact that he lacked his usual intimidation. Ratchet could take him now. And though they had come to blows many times, Ratchet could now put up a serious fight against anything Sunstreaker could throw at him. Ratchet was also the only one who could remedy the situation, so terminating him wasn't on the agenda. No matter how much Sunstreaker entertained the idea.
If Sunstreaker wanted his usual tough, strong, sexy mech frame back, he had to admit defeat. That was something that left a bitter taste in his oral cavity.
Slag.
Sunstreaker pulled himself to his full, and disappointing height, barely reaching Ratchet's chin with his helm.
"Get me back into my body," Sunstreaker snarled with as much vehemence the femme frame could produce, optics narrowing in anger. "Or else!"
Ratchet paused in his rebuttal, taking a half step back. Sunstreaker may be inhabiting a femme body, but there were some looks that all males knew, regardless of species. How Sunstreaker managed to pull it off stunned and terrified Ratchet at the same time.
Another lustful wave nudged his spark and with annoyed optics, he redirected his laser-like glare to his twin.
"Would you knock that off?" Sunstreaker snapped.
Sideswipe leaned against the makeshift berth he had charged on while Sunstreaker underwent the delicate and dangerous transference process. He offered a lopsided, cheesy grin before adding, "Sorry, babe."
Sunstreaker may have been in a different frame, but he was still fast. And the lighter alloy of the femme frame gave him a surprise of added speed and agility. He clipped his brother upside the helm and sent him sprawling once again.
"You're disgusting," Sunstreaker growled.
Sideswipe sat on the floor, rubbing the side of his helm and shrugging in acceptance. It was weird. But the twins thrived on the strange and chaotic.
"If you two have finished?" Ratchet asked in exasperation. When dual looks of mulish affirmation greeted his searching gaze, Ratchet continued. "I don't know how well that frame can adapt to your unique situation. So until I can get your old frame back to my medbay and repaired, I want to keep you in isolation."
"Keep your delicate features away from unsavory savages," Sideswipe grinned, regaining his pedes but keeping a safe distance from his brother, turned sister, lightening fast retribution. Primus. He didn't know Sunstreaker could move so fast. The lighter alloys made a lot of difference. Course, the pale lavender armor couldn't withstand being on the front line. One shot and it would melt into slag. You gained speed and mobility with the thinner alloys, but lost a considerable degree of protection.
"No," Ratchet said, then amended, "Well, in part, yes."
Sunstreaker's dark purple gaze bore into Ratchet's own pale blue, causing the medic to stall. He felt his systems heat with the look of soft feminine curves and the color was very flattering to the petite frame. Ratchet jolted himself, remembering it was Sunstreaker in the frame and not a willing, available femme.
That sobered his libido.
"The reason I want you two in here is because I'm not sure how that femme processor will handle a mechs mentality. Not to mention your spark and the spark chamber specifications for that frame are barely within stable matching parameters. Your spark could destabilize despite my best efforts, and I wouldn't put it past you to be so spiteful to terminate right when I thought I saved you."
The frame may have been different, but Sunstreaker's customary sneer entrenched itself on the delicate, feminine face.
Any further verbal sparring was cut short when shouts echoed outside the room.
"We've been discovered!"
"Incoming!"
"Missiles incoming! Brace for impact!"
"Where the slag is Ratchet?"
Ratchet darted out of the room, leaving the twins alone to stare in horror and disgrace as they were forced to remain hidden for protection. It rankled both of them to be so vulnerable and helpless. Their jobs required them to be on the front lines. And here they both were holed up in an isolation ward with an empty shell for company, the soundtrack of their friends engaging the enemy in the distance.
The building rocked on its foundations, causing a large crack to form over the isolation ward. Sideswipe sent a pang of worry through the bond, knowing that if the roof fell, there was a chance the femme frame wouldn't survive the destruction. Femme bodies weren't meant to withstand a building collapsing on them. Sunstreaker glanced to his inert golden shell, worrying etching his features. Weapons fire erupted outside and a high pitched whistling soon followed.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exchanged a look. They had been on the front lines long enough to recognize the sound. Another missile was incoming. Sideswipe jumped toward his twin to protect the smaller frame, but Sunstreaker had already leapt to the side, landing over his old shell in protection. If it received any more damage, he would be stuck in the feminine body, and that wasn't a prospect he found enthralling. Sideswipe scrambled the short distance to his brother, just as the impact hit the side of the building. There was a dull roaring, followed by a loud thunderous clap, before the structure started to groan. Sunstreaker flung the femme body across his golden chest, protecting the gaping hole to prevent further injury. Sideswipe pressed his body over the lavender frame and prayed to Primus the building wouldn't fall on them.
Primus smiled on the duo, as the building gave an ominous creak, but remained upright. Shouts outside signaled that backup had arrived, and with the booming thunder of cannons, only Ironhide could be leading the charge. Both twins sighed in relief, relaxing slightly and waited for the signal to evacuate the temporary stronghold.
Sideswipe snickered, his chest causing Sunstreaker's lavender back to jostle as they separated a little since the danger was passed.
"What's so funny?" Sunstreaker asked, knowing the giddy feeling in his spark wasn't going to mean something good coming from his brother's vocalizer.
"I always imagined a scene like this," Sideswipe snickered, bracing his hands on either side of his brother's lifeless golden shell and new lavender body.
Sunstreaker groaned, not disappointed by his brother's idiocy.
"Femme between us," Sideswipe added, feeling his systems heat with the thought. It didn't help the feminine curves were very close to his main sensors, and the heat radiating off the body was registering all kinds of wonderful things to his circuits.
Sunstreaker could sense the heating frame, though the sensations were dulled because of the imbalance in his borrowed frame. The happy pangs in his spark were giving mixed signals, and Sunstreaker growled. He turned his dark purple optics to his brother and jerked his head toward his inert golden form.
"You dreamt of facing a femme with my empty shell?" Sunstreaker asked.
Sideswipe's cheeky look disappeared. He forgot how close he came to losing his brother. He frowned, looking perturbed and ducked his head, pressing his forehead against Sunstreaker's.
"Never," Sideswipe whispered. "You terminate, I follow. That's just how it goes."
Sunstreaker allowed the close proximity, knowing his twin was just as terrified as he was. If his former body was damaged and he had to reside in the femme frame, things could go bad. Sunstreaker sighed, resting his helm against his twins, feeling the syncopated pulse of their unified sparks. It didn't matter the frame. They were still brothers. Bound together through fate. Sunstreaker expelled a heavy ex-vent, withdrawing from his twins affection so no one would walk in and get the wrong idea. The idea was made worse when Sideswipe offered his signature mischievous grin before planting a kiss on Sunstreaker's cheek.
With a snarl, Sunstreaker drew back his tiny fist and threw all his weight behind the punch. His fist landed squarely on his brother's interface panel, sending vibrating shockwaves through his body and destabilizing some very sensitive, and partly primed, circuits.
Sideswipe let out a howl, grasping his interface panel in pain and toppling sideways as the pain disrupted his senses.
"Fragger," Sunstreaker snapped, drawing his fist back and looking at the smaller knuckles for signs of damage. He smirked, seeing the pristine metal gleaming back as if mocking his twin's pain.
Ratchet came running in, not perturbed by a groaning Sideswipe and triumphant lavender Sunstreaker, and motioned to the empty golden shell.
"The transport trailer is fixed," Ratchet said, nodding to the golden frame. His left arm sported a few holes and soot, obviously damage taken during the squirmish. It hung limp at his side. "Get Sunstreaker's body into the trailer and both of you keep it safe."
"Right," Sunstreaker said, going to Ratchet and turning to look over his shoulder at his still moaning twin. "Get my frame."
"Why can't you do it?" Sideswipe asked through gritted lip components. He flexed his legs, trying to ward off the residual sting that burned his neural relays like liquid fire.
"You're a mech. You do it," Sunstreaker offered as response, placing hands on hips and looking like a put out female about to break loose on an idiotic male.
"Fragger," Sideswipe spat, gaining his feet and pulling the lifeless form into his arms, mindful of the gaping hole in the golden chest. He followed the duo out of the isolation ward, wincing as he walked.
As Autobots tended to the wounded and checked weapons, shouting orders and surveying hiding places for potential enemies, Sideswipe looked to the inert form in his arms. He felt his spark clench, threatening to still altogether. He was used to that golden frame fighting by his side and threatening him with all manner of repercussions if he got scratched. He wasn't used to seeing Sunstreaker so silent and lifeless. The normal thrum of a spark didn't answer from the shell held in his arms. The systems were cold, the armor slightly grey around the edges from lack of energon flow. The shell was simply a busted, hollow vessel where his brother once inhabited. The charred hole in the middle of the golden chest brought reality crashing down on Sideswipe, who felt his fuel pump falter along with his step. He came so close to losing his twin.
As if in answer, there came a soothing, gentle presence in his spark and mind. The beat of life in his chest called to its other half, and rejoiced when it was answered, creating a symphony in their souls.
Sideswipe squared his shoulders and proudly carried his brother's frame to the awaiting medical transport, where soldiers were filing in various states of distress. Sunstreaker lead the way to the transport and when he rounded the corner, he ran into the black and white form of Prowl.
Prowl blinked at the strange lavender femme being followed by Sideswipe, carrying the limp body of his twin.
"Prowl," Sunstreaker said in a soft, feminine voice that gained the instant attention of all mechs in the vicinity.
Jazz was overseeing the evacuation of refugees, his Special Ops agents stationed around the perimeter and offering cover. He stopped talking and looked behind him upon hearing the feminine tones. A startled beep escaped before he could stop himself. With wide smile and friendly swagger, Jazz strode forward, throwing all his charm into his cultured voice.
"Hello," he said, coming to stand next to his best friend and puffing his armor slightly in macho superiority.
"Shove it, Jazz," the lavender femme snarled, stalking into the trailer without a backward glance.
Stunned, Jazz saw Sideswipe carrying Sunstreaker's lifeless shell. But instead of looking devastated, Sideswipe smirked and walked up to the senior officers.
"Don't frag him off," Sideswipe said, still having some difficulty in walking. "Trust me. It hurts like the Pit."
Jazz noticed the front liner's limp and with a surprised noise shared by Prowl, both noticed the lavender paint embedded in the deep dent in the dead center of Sideswipe's interface panel. Both mechs cringed, Prowl more subtle than Jazz. When Sideswipe disappeared inside the transport, the two senior officers exchanged looks.
"Who was that?" Jazz asked.
"Sunstreaker was transferred to an empty shell until his body can be repaired," Prowl reported, having received Ratchet's report as soon as they made secured contact.
Jazz gasped, glancing at the spot where Sideswipe had disappeared into the transport carrying Sunstreaker's deadened frame.
"Primus," Jazz muttered. Prowl nodded in agreement.
"We will have to keep the twins separated from the other soldiers until Sunstreaker can be transferred back into his old frame,' Prowl said.
"Yeah, with Sunny's attitude, he's likely to terminate any mech who puts the moves on him," Jazz said, suddenly feeling very cold.
"I'm surprised he spared you," Prowl smirked before returning to his duty of overseeing the soldier placement.
Jazz stood open mouthed at the joke and its implication.
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Reviews would be loved! I can't believe I'm almost at 350! *shocked face before faint*
I honestly NEVER thought the tally would get THAT high! its amazing! YOU guys are amazing!
And THANK YOU AGAIN Blitzie for the art!