C.M.D: These chapters start to get darker as the story continues, so there'll always be a reminder every chapter that a full version is available via the links in my profile, should you wish to read the entire thing.
Title: Blades and First Aid IV
Rating: M
Warnings: Incest, self-harm and physical abuse
He gasped softly as his helm was tipped to the side, a hot glossa sliding up his cheekplate, licking away his stream of tears. "Mmm," the kittycon purred into his ear, "Even your tears taste sweet. How curious."
Doubtful, he wanted to say. But he decided the statement wasn't worth the energy to produce vocally. Best to remain focused on only the servos running up and down his frame, tugging his pants low impatiently as he was cupped closer to the other mech's chassis. First Aid could not help the little flinch he gave as the stranger picked leisurely.
The kittycon chuckled darkly. "Scared, are we?," he teased, his lip components ghosting a trail down the autodog's neck, nipping harshly at the cables. "Typical, really... But you surprise me, mutt. I never expected you'd come looking for me, begging me to frag you again."
The australian shepherd moaned reluctantly as his upper torso was shoved into the wall. "W-what... what d-do you c-care?," he mumbled in reply. "Y-you're getting some... i-isn't that e-enough?"
The kittycon purred as he pinned First Aid to the wall, his other servo grabbing the autodog's hip. "True," he rumbled, picking up his pace every astrosecond, "But t-then again, I'm n-not the pathetic, snivelling mutt c-chasing shadows down in sketchy clubs and dangerous a-alleyways."
The vet could not even protest such an insult.
"P...p-please...," the gasping plea escaped him as he arched back into the kittycon,, "Please, I-i... M-make me f-forget. M-make m-me not r-remember a-anything."
The lynx paused, grabbing the autodog's chin and tipping his helm back uncomfortably until the tearful optics were shuttering up into his visor. Unable to move or even pull away, First Aid watched as a vicious grin split apart under that bloody banner; its glow dimming just enough to highlight how amusing the stranger found all of this. "Of course," he husked, leaning down and unceremoniously thrusting his glossa into the smaller mech's mouth, "Mmmm... Let Vortex give you something to ponder about."
xxXxXxx
He woke up, feeling something nibbling on his servo.
Optics onlining, First Aid stared up at the nude lynx crouching by his berthside; his servo clutched tenderly in the other's grasp, his glossa and denta circling the bleeding wound around his servo. "Good morning," Vortex chuckled darkly, noticing the autodog's attentiveness. "I noticed your little servo bleeding -I thought I'd have myself a taste."
First Aid said nothing to that, tiredly pulling his servo free from Vortex's grasp. He rolled away, resting the freshly opened wound against the sheets, watching blankly as it bubbled and stained the white fabric. The mattress creaked as the lynx climbed up over him, hovering like a black shadow in his berth.
"Come now...," his sick vocalizer cooed, dipping closer, "You don't really want to ignore me. If you did... you would never have invited me in..." The australian shepherd could feel the smirk on the other's face as his mouth pressed against his neck cables, forcing his helm to tip further on the pillow. The stranger spoke truth, he noted through his indifference. This vampire he had willingly invited into his home; opened his doors, opened his legs and begged to be devoured.
Because it was better than thinking... than... remembering...
First Aid turned slightly, spreading his legs for the servo slowly slithering between his thighs. "So willing," Vortex chuckled softly against his ear. The grey mech growled momentarily as he grabbed the autodog's leg, bending it towards First Aid's chestplates, his pressurized spike already pressing against the lip of his valve.
First Aid shuttered his optics, waiting for the strike.
He onlined them quickly, flinching as Vortex grabbed his bleeding servo; one claw digging into the fresh wound hard, making it trickle fresh energon. This constant, and often harsh treatment, to it only continued to halt its healing. If it ever did... it would surely scar now.
"You're such a little whore," the kittycon growled above his helm, grinning wickedly at the strangling gasp the australian shepherd gave.
"S-so pathetic... so pitiful... so d-desperate..." His mouth twisted wider with his vicious amusement. "...so self-destructive...You've been more of a treat than I had first anticipated. Thank you sweetly, lil' Aid."
He had no protest to offer. Squinting through his glazed optics up at the looming kittycon, the white mech was only relieved that the grim glow of the other's visor offered him no route of illusion, no hope of pretending. This was here, this was now; this was painful, this was liberating. Gasping, First Aid arched up into Vortex's plundering, his free servo catching the other's arm and digging his fingers in tightly as he smiled deliriously, feeling all conscious thought and sensation fade away. Leaving only the bitter-sweet remains that this mech alone was pouring upon him.
xxXxXxx
Ignis slowly shifted her grip, clinging to the window frame tightly as her other servo picked and worked the wire carefully; easing it around the inside latch and finally snapping it back. With a sigh of relief, the femme yanked the wire out, grabbing the window and opening it wide. She was aware that anyone watching could call the police, no doubt thinking her a burglar or something, but right now she was less concerned about that. It had been a couple weeks since First Aid had stopped talking to the family.
No one could understand why, or even why he had chosen to distance himself from them on the only orn that Blades had come to visit them that month. Though he'd never say it, Ignis could tell that her uncle not showing up that night had really hit Blades hard. He had left dinner early, probably to go check on First Aid's apartment, but considering how quickly Blades returned -even more tense than before- the femme could only assume that her sire had not found the australian shepherd at home. Everybody was upset and worried... And then Groove had called the hospital the next morning, and found that First Aid was okay...
Blades' departure that orn had been less than pleasant.
Ignis slowly stepped down into the apartment, not hearing a sound that said anyone was home. Cautious, she took a step further inside, double-checking that her dagger was in easy reach should she need it.
She could understand everybody being hurt and even angry at First Aid for his behaviour, but Ignis couldn't believe that the vet would do something like this without good reason. She'd had to wait until later, but she had tried to call the mech, just to tell him that she was sorry that he missed Blades' visit and that she really missed him, and if he could come over and have some cake with her. Just like they used to when they were small. The flat, mocking beep had denied her.
No phone... and now, not even attending work, as she had discovered the other orn...
A feeling of dread, first just confused uncertainty, had started to spread its poisonous roots and it strangled Ignis now; its seed a heavy weight unsettling her fuel tanks. Blades had taught her to always trust her instincts, and right now, they were screaming out that something was wrong.
Silently, the femme tip-toed through the modest apartment, optics taking in everything. The few, dirty dishes in the sink, the empty hallway table where the phone usually sat, its ripped wire still in the jack... Dark and empty, even despite the sunlight shining brightly outside, the apartment did not even feel like her uncle's any more. It felt like a stranger's home...
Swallowing uneasily, Ignis approached the berthroom; gently grasping the knob and pushing it open. Her olfactory sensors twinged in displeasure as the scent of old transfluids smacked her straight in the face; opening the door further, she could see that the berth was, thankfully, empty. But the state it was left in did not make her feel any more comfortable. Twisted and ripped in spots, the sheets were practically slipping off the berth, leaving the plain and sullen mattress open to her view. Holding a servo to her face, Ignis walked inside further, optics flaring as he worry increased; her fuel tanks roiling sickly.
There was energon...
Dried in spots on the floor. Staining the sheets in places. Mixed in with the copious amount of transfluid drying into the fabric. At the violent display before her, Ignis started to back up, feeling both dizzy and suddenly weak in the knee joints.
First Aid...
Despite how sweet and loving he was, had never dated. He'd always been single, and happy as such, Ignis remembered. He had wanted to be a vet and to him that was more important than highschool romances. No one questioned it. They were merely happy to see that innocent mech smile and be filled with such life, no matter what he found joy in. As such, the femme also knew that her uncle was sealed. That had not changed any time soon, and if it had, in some effect, she knew that First Aid would have said as such to his family. He never kept secrets from them.
"F...first Aid...," Ignis mumbled, gagging as the stench hit her hard again. Her hip smacked into the desk against the wall, making the computer screen flash to life. Caught off-guard by its response, the femme whirled around, facing the terminal; all thoughts of rape and First Aid chased from her processor for a moment.
That moment stretched longer as she realized what was staring up at her from the computer monitor.
"...o-oh... oh no...," she whimpered softly, feeling tears fill her optics. Medical files. First Aid had been looking at their medical files... Hers, to be exact. The box stating her sire and carrier glowed up at her mockingly; for once, the sight of those two names causing a stabbing pain to pierce through her spark.
First Aid...
He knew. He knew he had been lied to.
A sound from down the hall outside the apartment jolted Ignis out of her horrified daze. Like a bullet, she dashed from the room, leaping up and out of the living room window and for the tree she had used to get close, without a second thought. Spark whirling wildly -in pain, fear and sorrow- the femme quickly scaled down the bark; sprinting down the street and towards home.
xxXxXxx
The berth creaked as he rose, sniffling slightly and turning in his spot, resting his pedes on the floor. The wood was chill against the plating, but he remained seated -hunched over, one servo rubbing tiredly at his optics- still not willing to move just yet. Once again, he wondered why he was here... why he kept doing this...
"...You're over-thinking again..."
The mech turned his helm slightly towards the sleepy mumble, watching as the Akita stretched slowly across the berth; the sheets pulling taut across his lithe frame. Blue optics onlined, glowing up at him warmly, and for a moment, the younger autodog believed that it was really his brother Streetwise looking up at him... The one he loved...
But the moment passed quickly and there were only blue optics staring back up at him from a shell that mimicked his long departed brother.
"Blades...," Streetwise sighed, knowing exactly where the silent mech's thoughts had gone. He sat up, attempting to reach over and touch the bull terrier's shoulder plating. Immediately, Blades flinched away from the contact; rising to his pedes and crossing the room for his pants.
"I gotta go...," he mumbled. "I've got-"
"Blades," the white mech repeated, pulling the sheets up and covering himself modestly, "You don't need to make excuses. I know you can't stay."
Blades slowed down, but did not stop entirely. "...I shouldn't even be here," he added softly, not looking back at his brother. "This was a mistake. I..."
Smiling kindly, Streetwise rose out of the berth as well, walking unabashedly towards the bathroom. Despite his reluctance, the bull terrier's optics followed his form, subconsciously tracing the curves of the other's frame. "It's alright, Blades," the akita continued, stopping at the bathroom sink; his aft and its incriminating stains in plain view of the younger autodog. "What we're doing... You and I are both under agreement; this is only a release. What we once had... it's over now..."
Even if he agreed, hearing those words -coming out of Streetwise's mouth, spoken with his vocalizer, so kindly and callously- stung and Blades did his best not to lash out of pain. "T-that's not-"
Streetwise turned his helm, staring at his brother quietly. "...but it is," he spoke after a moment. His gaze softened and his smile pulled on his lip components, serene but still tinged with a touch of sadness. "You no longer see me as your same brother any more, Blades, and I have accepted that. What happened during the war has changed us all... but, despite everything, I know I will forever cherish the memories of us, young and in love. And I know that you'll do the same too."
The guilt was eating him alive the longer he looked into those fathomless optics. He hated it... hated that smile and that kindness and just how right this Streetwise was... because it only proved just how much Blades had failed and how much it had all cost them in the end. It was only through a twisted miracle of wonder that Streetwise was even with them once again, but a living frame and glowing spark did not mean that his brother was truly resurrected. The akita he had loved had died in his arms... with the word 'monster' on his lip components as he cursed Blades to his grave...
Tearing his helm away finally, Blades yanked his pants on, fuel tanks churning with disgust. "I... just stop talking...," he grumbled, searching the room for his shirt. "I shouldn't even be here. Yoketron will slag me for ditching when I get back. You better not tell the others that I was-"
"I won't." Streetwise was leaning against the bathroom door frame now, arms crossed loosely over his chestplates as he looked at his brother. "I never do," he added.
Blades didn't respond to that, increasing his efforts toward his search; feeling his emotions tug in several thousand directions at the quiet hurt present in the other's tone. The crushing need to escape pressed down on him harder, and he knew he only had himself to blame for feeling torn this way. With a bitter-sweet victory, he managed to pull his shirt out from under the berth, untangling it from Streetwise's trousers and throwing it over his helm. Both were silent as Blades gathered together the rest of his things; grabbing his duffel bag and heading for the motel door.
"Blades...," Streetwise called softly. The bull terrier paused just before the door. "Please... talk to him."
Ears raised in stunned disbelief, Blades half-looking over his shoulder plating warily. Streetwise smiled in kind understanding. "I do not who it might be that has won your spark after so long... but he deserves enough respect, I think, to know how you feel about him. Besides," the elder autodog said, "He may just feel the same back... You deserve to be happy..."
Coolant glazed his optics faster than he would have expected and caught off-guard by the action, the red mech could only snap his helm back towards the door. For a moment, he saw blinding white and unjudging optics glowing up at him and felt a sliver of lust and want unfold inside him, before he squashed it in fear and guilt. Cycling a stiff intake, Blades shouldered his bag higher, turning contrite optics to his waiting brother.
"Y-you... you too," he mumbled back, "Be happy Streetwise."
He did not see the way the akita smiled sadly as he left, happy but lonely tears filling his optics.
xxXxXxx
When he had woken that morning, Vortex was nowhere to be found. Confused, even through his daze, First Aid had risen. It had taken much prodding from himself and more time spent idling, before he could even be bothered to clean the last few orn's activities off of his plating and dress, but all of this he did quickly when he felt those haunting voices begin to jeer from the bland walls. Shoving his way through panic, the australian shepherd managed to make himself look presentable before he fled his apartment entirely, desperate for air.
This was dangerous, he realized, circling his block for the umpteenth time. Shivering arms held himself as the vet looked about suspiciously, unable to squash the chilling sensation that everyone was watching him. He was losing his very mind, First Aid knew, and he was mere inches away from toppling over this worrisome precipice to the well of madness beneath. If he continued down this dark path...
First Aid shook his helm, rounding the corner past the local magazine stand yet again. He could feel the bubble of dark, black sludge boiling inside of him; hissing and swelling with its belly of vicious things, promising to expand until its tar-like skin could withstand it no longer and implode, tainting him entirely from within. He didn't want that... Didn't want to feel those things or think about t-that...
Vortex, his processor reminded him quickly. Vortex could make him forget. Vortex would tear it all away from him. The effect was instantaneous. Like running water over his frame, calm spread through the autodog's circuits, easing away his trouble, paranoia and terror. The frightening, evil, dangerous kittycon was perfect in his rapidly shattering perception, granting to the vet all the escapes he could ever hope for. To this creature he had willing written over all possession of himself, and First Aid was becoming addicted to the sort of cruelty he had become a slave to.
It was perfect, he smiled deliriously, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk for a moment.
Beautiful... painful... relinquishing...
First Aid started to shake and he forced himself into walking again, his smile falling off his face as realization set in. Vortex was the purest form of rapture there was to be found, his intoxicating drug, but the lynx had left. He was not around. If... if he did not return...
The australian shepherd hugged himself tightly again, increasing his pace until he had made his way back to his building. He eyed the apartment anxiously, shrinking at the voices starting to hiss and chuckle at the back of his helm. No... no... He had to come back! He would! He was the only one who could make it all go away and the autodog had sold himself to him, he-
First Aid didn't remember entering the building. He couldn't even remember the trip upstairs. But there he was again, standing in the entry way of his apartment, his dazed optics trying to make sense of the lynx lounging easily against the opposite wall. "Well, well, well...," Vortex crooned, visor pulsing eerily in the dim light. "I wandered in, expecting a surprise, only to find that you'd wandered off yourself, pet. I didn't think you were even capable of it."
An insult, a part of him noted. Yet, he didn't care. A feverish heat overtook him and the vet found himself pressed to the kittycon a moment later, servos twisting into the other's shirt and his mouth gasping as he breathed in the wild, bloody scent Vortex exuded. He was here. He had returned. Just as he had thought...
He had to make him stay. Sell him something new...
"P-please...," the australian shepherd begged, intakes rattling, even as he struggled to speak. He turned his tortured optics up to the lynx. "P-please... d-do not... don't l-leave a-again... S-Stay. I... I'll d-do anything. H-hurt me. S-stay and you c-can hurt me. I-i... I n-need..."
A grin split across that diabolical face and it caused a series of chills to jolt across his sensory grid in hungry anticipation. The devil had bitten; his apple, so chewed and sucked dry, still offered a final sweetness and this mech was drawn in. Knowing this -seeing this- was ecstasy itself to the poor 'bot. Gasping, First Aid did not protest the servo that ripped him free from the kittycon's frame; back-handing him and sending him crashing to the ground below.
Trembling -needfully, hungrily, wantonly, desperately- he yelped and whimpered as his arm was twisted violently behind his back, one wayward servo trailing down his backside to his pants.
Panting, First Aid smiled, ready for sweet oblivion.
C.M.D: Forgot to mention, but the character Ignis is an OC that Randomus created in his story, who is the daughter of Blades and Streetwise. Some of you may have clued in to that by now, but I thought I'd clear up that up before people get too confused.