DUAL SIDE EFFECTS
Requested by Starfire201.
HUGE THANK YOU TO ALL REVIEWERS! You've really helped poke the muse into getting her butt in gear to finish this chapter. Now if only she would stay consistent and focus on the other chapters I want to work on….
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"You're not going to win, Sides," Smokescreen taunted, saluting his opponent with his glass before downing the shot.
Sideswipe grinned, rubbing his midsection in answer. "I have the perfect remedy to your scrap iron tank."
"I doubt it," Smokescreen added, knowing that Sideswipe had yet to win a drinking game against the seasoned Praxian.
Sideswipe took his shot, giving his best award winning smile to his counterpart and sat the glass down for the next shot.
"You're going down, Smokey," he promised, optics glinting in mischief that didn't bode well for the Praxian.
Smokescreen wasn't going to be deterred. He had planned the game out perfectly. He knew his absorption rate and sideswipes, due to previous games, and had calculated when Sideswipe would succumb to his overcharge. The Red Lamborghini had done it so many times in the past, it was a wonder still tried to beat Smokescreen.
It started out as a friendly drinking game that quickly morphed into a drunken rivalry of legendary proportion. Sideswipe worked on his remedies, challenged Smokescreen to a drinking contest, and by almost the same time every game, Sideswipe collapsed with overcharge. His remedies were infamous, and he never stopped trying to perfect his 'cure.' It became a game that every time Sideswipe passed out, Smokescreen would write on him. It had started out with a simple, "I WIN" on his chassis that escalated into obscene and sometimes twisted parodies of friendship. When Sideswipe became intoxicated, he became an easy target. And if he pissed off Smokescreen for any particular prank or battle field miscalculation, Smokescreen took out on the ruby hide, one insult after another.
Well, Sideswipe had had enough.
His losing streak was now at an end. He had been brewing some special high grade, testing its affects and counter affects with his newest batch of remedies when he made a grand discovery. He planned on putting that discovery to use tonight. And win his first ever drinking game against Smokescreen.
Sunstreaker set down the new shots, removing the empty glasses and going to the large dispenser the twins had set up for the party. Everyone was enjoying themselves, Prowl having sequestrated himself in his quarters to avoid the crowds as usual. So the illegal high grade flowed freely. Jazz had the party in full swing, dancing his spark out on the dance floor and shaking his aft like no tomorrow. The other mechs were getting into the party as well, most opting for a little shot of the high potency energon. Just a few sips and they could feel their circuits tingling. The twins had outdone themselves this time. They were pests but they were also master brewers. They could take anything and make it into a liquid to get overcharged on. Sideswipe's best concoction was derived from a specially processed crude oil, some electrical charge 'borrowed' from the human power grid and his secret ingredient, a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
The mechs still hadn't figured it out.
"Why am I here again?" Sunstreaker asked, bringing over a dozen more shots and setting the tray down in front of the two alcoholic combatants.
"To ensure we get the same amount of the same stuff," Sideswipe said.
Smokescreen nodded, remembering Sideswipe had tried the 'diluted energon' tactic before. "So no one cheats and uses a lower grade."
"I'm not a mediator," Sunstreaker muttered.
"Yes you are," Sideswipe, gave his brother a grin as he took a shot that mirrored Smokescreen.
"I'm only doing this because you promised me that I would have some 'Sideswipe free' time to try that new medium," Sunstreaker said, noting his brother's optics were already showing a higher charge. He looked to Smokescreen and noted that he too bore the signs of charged circuits.
"You're acting like a couple of foolish sots." Sunstreaker said, perturbed by the giddy feeling filtering through their shared bond like rain trickling over armor. "What do you get out this?"
"My dignity," Sideswipe answered, feeling the charge wash over his system and ignite his circuits.
"Oh… you don't have enough credits to pay for that.' Sunstreaker deadpanned, counting off the internal timer and setting up the next shots for the drinking duo.
"Which is why I'm drinking to regain it.' Sideswipe answered without looking at his twin. His optics was focused on Smokescreen, watching as the charge circulated through his systems.
"Dear brother, you have it backwards." Sunstreaker sighed. He honestly didn't understand how someone would drink themselves into such a stupor, complete with nasty side effects, and be anxious to perform the procedure over again. With fervor.
"Shut up." Sideswipe snapped, gracing his brother with an annoyed look. The high grade was filtering through his system at an accelerated rate. He could feel the buzz already tingling along his spinal strut.
Sunstreaker offered a defensive growl, slamming the two glasses in front of the dueling drunks, his optics dark and glaring at his twin.
Sideswipe ignored his twin and matched Smokescreen for the shot and downed his glass. Both mechs hiccupped, though Sideswipe's was a bit more pronounced. His entire chassis seemed to expand then collapse in on itself. The charge was packing quite the wallop.
Sunstreaker kept up a constant stream of complaints, sounding more and more like Gears. The room slowly emptied out, most bots going to sleep it off before their next shift. Jazz tottered on unsteady pedes toward the door. Sunstreaker broke his verbal litany to direct the dizzy mech toward Prowl's quarters, to which Jazz gave a drunken chirp and staggered out the door. He collided with the bulkhead a few paces away, his electronic snores filling the hall. Sunstreaker sighed, knowing he missed out on another good jibe at the SIC's expense. He really enjoyed sending Jazz on these suicide missions. His attention was drawn to the two dueling mechs at the table, both wafting the scent of overcharge.
Sideswipe and Smokescreen were almost nose to nose, slowing reciting the Cybertronian alphabet. Sunstreaker listened to their jumbled stream and realized that both were missing the same letters in the same sequence. He stared at his twin, wondering if he had synced a cable with the Praxian and they were reading each others minds. It was freaky.
As Smokescreen was distracted by Sideswipe, Sunstreaker set up the next round, his hand brushing his twins in an unspoken message.
Sideswipe hiccupped but grinned at Smokescreen, who returned the pleasantly hostile expression. Both took their shots and recited an ancient ballad that Ironhide had taught the crew when they first joined. The rhymes were complicated and easily confused, the stanzas just as elaborate as any musical composition. Very few mastered the art of repeating it while intoxicated. The entire body of the ballad was almost one hundred paragraphs, and by the time the duo got the end, repeating several phrases over and over like a broken record, four more shots had been ingested.
Sideswipe sneered at Smokescreen's bright optics, and before the frontliner knew what was happening, the Praxian had face planted onto the table. Sideswipe whooped, slapping the table and spilling the shots Sunstreaker had just presented.
"Bout time," Sunstreaker said, eyeing the unconscious form with distaste. "I thought it would never work."
Sideswipe gave a bleary hiccup before turning and purging his tanks. After several minutes he stopped, wiping his face and looking at his disgusted twin.
"Better," he said, trying and failing to look cool after his purge.
"Whatever," Sunstreaker said returning the shots to the dispenser. It was nearly empty.
When he turned, Sideswipe was standing on unsteady pedes, holding onto the table for support. It was going to take him some time to throw off the extra charge that lingered from the absorbed high grade. Sunstreaker went to his twin's side, looking into bright, but still cognizant and mischievous, optics.
"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" he asked holding out his arms to steady his twin.
"Because you love me and know I'm a genius," Sideswipe offered, overbalancing slightly before finding security in his brother's embrace. He let out a little chuckle and whispered in Sunstreaker's audio, "This is going to be awesome."
Sunstreaker offered a muffled snort in answer.
Smokescreen awoke to a strange sensation. He was lying on his side with two warm bodies pressed against his front and back. One warm body he may have agreed to. Being drunk off his aft had lowered his resistance to cheap moves and some bots were notorious. But two bodies?
He opened bleary optics to see Sideswipe's serene face staring back. He let out a startled beep, jolting from his position and felt arms tighten around his middle, preventing escape. A face nuzzled between his door wings, and he'd be slagged if the other bot didn't know exactly how to stimulate to send pleasurable ripples across his sensor net. He gave a shudder against his will, feeling a hot exvent along the sensors and a deep growl that reverberated from the chest pressed against his back into his own chassis. The vibration was pleasantly deep, feeling as if his soul was being called from some unknown depths. A tentative hand brushed against his cheek gaining his attention. Sideswipe's face loomed close, his optics glazed in a dreamy expression, a soft smile highlighting his face. His voice was soft when he spoke.
"Did you mean it?" he asked his fingers tracing over Smokescreen's still open lip components.
"Mean… mean what?" Smoke asked, feeling the nuzzling face plant a kiss on a sensor that instantly sent his internal temp skyrocketing.
Oh blast.
Realization hit like Omega Supreme's fist. If Sideswipe was in front, then it could only be Sunstreaker behind. It wasn't very smart to turn your back on such a volatile and dangerous mech. And he was currently nuzzling between Smokescreen's doorwings in a familiar and oh so achingly sweet way that had the Praxian shivering despite himself. It was rare to find someone who knew how to manipulate door wings to the best possible stimulation. His attention was torn from his trembling door wings to Sideswipe's genuinely bashful face.
"That you love me," Sideswipe said, his head canting aside as if ashamed to admit hearing such words of endearment.
"Love?" Smokescreen squeaked, his body going stiff, and not from the possessive embrace around his waist. "What do you mean… love?"
Sideswipe leaned forward, brushing his olfactory sensor against Smokescreen's own before muttering in a gentle tone, "You said that you loved me."
"I did?" Smokescreen asked, finding his body trembling in abject fear. The arms tightened around him, Sunstreaker's grumbling chassis sending tortuous messages across his sensor array.
Fingers traced Smokescreen still gaping lip components as Sideswipe whispered, "Do you really mean it?"
Smokescreen pushed away from Sideswipe, his fuel pump going at maximum output. When a cool sensation passed across his lower regions, he glanced down. and found his interface panel open. The sight made him scramble up on the berth, staring at the offending, yet explanatory, panel. Sunstreaker relented his place between the door wings and relaxed back on the berth, staring up to the Praxian with half lidded optics.
"What's wrong?" Sunstreaker asked in a soft and lazy voice. His hand stroked along his abdominal plating and thighs.
Smokescreen's optics followed the talented fingers and felt his tanks clench. There were blue transfer streaks along Sunstreaker's body. Transfer marks that only came with vigorous interfacing. He looked to Sideswipe and noted that he too bore the blue of interface scratches.
"What happened last night?" Smokescreen asked, noting the silver stains that accented his interface panels. There were also trace amounts of red and gold in numerous streaks along his midsection and thighs. He had a sinking feeling of what happened. He just wanted verbal confirmation.
Then he'd go jump in the volcano.
"I won our game," Sideswipe said, rising to sit on the berth. He made a show of closing his interface panel, the glimmer of silver faint upon his person. "When we were helping you to your quarters, you said you have always loved me and wanted to interface."
"I… I did?" Smokescreen asked, combing through his memory banks and finding nothing but blank static.
"You were so sincere," Sideswipe said, kneeling on the berth, his hand going to caress Smokescreen's cheek in an affectionate way. "I couldn't resist. And…" Sideswipe's facial plates heated, as he turned with bashful optics. "I think I love you too."
"It's not often we find someone who accepts both of us," Sunstreaker said, rising up and stroking a door wing, causing it to tremble. He flooded the bond with intense amusement.
"Love?" Smokescreen yelped, jumping off the berth, his doorwings twitching. "I wasn't in control. You can't believe everything I say. I didn't mean… I..I mean to say, I …."
"What are saying?" Sideswipe asked, his optics narrowing into a stricken frown. "That you don't love me?"
"I had too much to drink," Smokescreen said, trying to interject remorse and shame into his voice. "I was drunk and I took advantage of you while in a compromised situation." He tried to turn the blame onto himself, hoping to survive the wrath of the twins. How he survived interfacing with them, he'd never know. He just wanted to get out, get to his quarters unscathed, and scrub his body clean. Of course, there was the fact he'd never be able to delete waking up to Sideswipe's tranquil face, his soft voice as he asked for confirmation for a love that he had apparently wanted and reciprocated. A love that Smokescreen didn't have, didn't want, and couldn't remember.
Primus, how did he get into such a situation?
"You … took… advantage…?" Sideswipe asked, his optics going wide in realization. He looked like a kicked turbo puppy. Bluestreak had nothing on Sideswipe
Smokescreen felt guilt and shame take over his processor.
"When I'm under the influence, it affects my judgment. I'm sorry. I don't wish to lead you on and give you a false sense that I had intended on cultivating such a relationship when in fact I was too drunk to know what was happening and I shouldn't cause further harm by pretending that I was coherent . You deserve the truth and you deserve to be treated with respect. Two things that I fear I have failed to provide."
"You lied to me?" Sideswipe asked, his voice harsh, static making the timber pitch and waver. "You only told me you loved me to get me in the berth?"
"I …I was drunk… and…" Smokescreen tried again, feeling more and more guilt ridden.
"You used me," Sideswipe said, his voice stricken. His optics filled with shame as he turned them away from the sputtering Praxian.
"And me," Sunstreaker said, rising from the berth to square off against the apparent transgressor.
"No!" Smokescreen snapped hastily. "No! I never meant any of this to happen. I didn't want to hurt either of you but I fear that while I was too intoxicated to be coherent, I have said," Smokescreen looked to the pearly silver that highlighted all three of their interface panels, "And done, things that make me ashamed of myself."
"You're ashamed?" Sideswipe asked, his vents hitching. "You face us. Tell me that you love me and when I admit that I've fallen for you, you tell me it was all a lie? That you don't remember what we shared?!"
Smokescreen looked to his interface panel, mind reeling. He honestly couldn't remember what happened. The last fleeting image that was in his processor was of Sideswipe's face mere inches from his own, reciting a ballad that Ironhide had taught and…. Oh. A love ballad.
"I'm sorry,' Smokescreen admitted, door wings drooping in defeat. "I was drunk. I know that is not an excuse but while my circuits were so overcharged, I have led you on. For that, I am sorry." He looked to Sideswipe, then to Sunstreaker, both of whom were staring daggers at him. "I can't remember what happened, but I assure you, I had no intentions of causing either of you such grief."
"Get out!" Sunstreaker shouted, his fists curling at his side
Smokescreen didn't need telling twice. With one last sorrowful expression, he darted from the room. When the door shut Sunstreaker looked to his brother and smiled.
"You were good," Sunstreaker said.
Sideswipe swung his legs over the edge of the berth, his expression cheerful. "Throw me a chamois."
Sunstreaker grabbed a cleaning cloth from the ample pile and tossed it to his twin, his expression matching his brothers. Sideswipe stared with appreciative optics to the marks on his body, his hand hovering as if reluctant to remove them. His engine gave a rev.
"You're incorrigible." Sunstreaker said as he noted Sideswipe's reaction.
Sideswipe offered a partial shrug. "I'm tired of always losing to that fragger. Just thought I'd give him a reason to pause the next time he wants to brag about all the times he's beaten me and how he's 'so good'."
"You're diabolical," Sunstreaker said, grabbing a cloth and wiping down his plating.
Sideswipe grinned, nodding toward the disappearing silver stains on both their interface panels. "You were the one who thought of acrylic paint."
"Like I'd want to face that," Sunstreaker said with a jerk of his helm toward the door where Smokescreen had disappeared.
"Think he'll figure out we never faced?" Sideswipe asked, easily erasing the painted streaks of false interface.
"Eventually." Sunstreaker said, thankful that his artistic talents could provide such dastardly and conniving entertainment.
Sideswipe sent a questionable look to his twin, their bond wide open and allowing both to bask in the pleasure of a prank well executed.
Sunstreaker preened, giving his brother his most handsome and devilish look before adding, "No one forgets having a Lamborghini."
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*Author shakes head and wanders off*
*calls from distance* Reviews would be loved and bitchslaps the muse.
