Yellow Streak Down the Back
AN: I almost wasn't able to get this one out on time! Thankfully, everything worked out. Reviews have been fantastic and really appreciated. I answer the ones that are signed in, so check your inboxes.
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Jazz stalked down the hall, his pedefalls ringing a funeral dirge. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was passed pissed. He was fuming, raging, spark stopping extinguishing furious! He turned the corner, nearly bumping into Mirage, who gave his commanding officer a raised brow ridge but no spoken word.
"Don't ask!" Jazz snapped, continuing to trek down the hall toward the wash racks.
Mirage waited until the black and white officer disappeared before snickering, sending the captured holo-image to every Autobot on base. The laughter started out as a distant whisper that escalated into a booming, rolling thunder of hilarity. Jazz glared up at the security feed, knowing that Red Alert was probably recording the Saboteur as well. Maybe after Jazz had some time to think if over and let his metaphorical wounds heal, he'd have a good laugh as well. Later. Right now, he was furious.
'Jazz to Ratchet.'
"Yes, Milady?'
Jazz ignored the jibe, his fists clenching as he growled, entering the washracks. 'Meet me in the washracks and bring the most powerful solvent you possess.'
'Will do,' Ratchet said, a little too happy to be healthy. Jazz was thankful no one was in the washracks and turned on the spray, letting it hit his 'additions'. The water felt good along his burning plating, but the dulled sensations along his new additions were causing his sensors to fire off abnormal readings. The input data was already giving him a processor ache.
It had all started when Jazz needed Sideswipe's help in pranking Prowl. Well, the prank had been half hearted, Jazz only wanting to get the tactician's attention away from a datapad long enough so he wouldn't crash or work himself into oblivion. It was Ratchet's orders that Prowl took regularly schedule breaks, but he rarely kept to his own self appointed schedule. So Ratchet had enlisted Jazz to help the tactician remember his required 'down time'. Jazz only wanted to make Prowl drowsy, but whatever Sideswipe had added, made the Praxian pass out cold. Jazz also passed out. Though he had been given the 'remedy' by a self assured Sideswipe.
'Some remedy,' Jazz thought, waiting for Ratchet to show up and assist him.
When Jazz woke up, it was find a very elegant, graceful, and rather feminine set of Praxian doorwings glued to his back. They were arched forward, haloing his shoulders and angled in a typical display of Praxian courtship. To add insult to injury, Sideswipe had also glued on some 'feminine' pieces. Where he got them was a mystery, but Jazz was now a somewhat lopsided, yet fully displayed female Praxian showing all the ritual signs of attracting a mate and being susceptible to 'amorous inclinations.'
Ratchet entered the washracks in time to see Jazz grab a doorwing with every intention of yanking it from his person, but Ratchet intervened.
"You rip your plating and I'll blister it!" Ratchet snarled, jerking the saboteur's hand away from the glued panel. "If I know Sideswipe, he didn't use the gentle glue and if you go yanking on those beautiful door wings, it will make your plating separate from your back."
"That slagger!" Jazz snapped, holding still and allowing Ratchet to check the immaculate job of 'gender reassignment'. "He'll pay for this."
"He did a phenomenal job with getting the glue in the proper place to ensure cohesion," Ratchet muttered, examining the mech turned Praxian femme. "And if I'm not mistaken, he's applied a sealing layer as well to ensure durability."
"What was he thinking?" Jazz griped, wincing as Ratchet pulled on the panel and the plating did in fact threaten to dislodge. OH, it was on there, but good!
"You said you wanted to distract Prowl," Ratchet said absent mindedly, pulling out the solvent and putting a few drops along the seams. "You know him. He's an idiot. Takes things the wrong way. It's like talking to a sparkling."
"He'll pay for this," Jazz promised.
"Well, you'll just have to wait until I can get your courtship display put away," Ratchet said with a grin "If any of the Praxians see it, they may get the wrong idea."
"Yeah, Blue already found out," Jazz said, his cheek plates heating.
"Oh?" Ratchet asked, wondering what could have transpired. "I hope you let him down easy."
"I didn't know Praxians take this display stuff so seriously," Jazz admitted.
"It's how they chose mates," Ratchet said with an incredulous look.
"But I'm not Praxian!" Jazz reiterated, feeling a burning sensation where the solvent was working its way through the glue.
"Its instinctual programming," Ratchet said, adding a few more drops. "When a mech or femme is interested in seeking a mate, they display their doorwings in such a fashion. Any one who is interested or who finds the display attractive, may approach and present themselves as potential candidates. Some Praxians have multiple suitors before deciding on a suitable mate."
"I'm not the harem type of mech," Jazz said, feeling the burning migrate further along the path of adhesive.
"Blue's young. He doesn't know how to answer to such a display other than what his ingrain programming tells him." Ratchet said, grabbing the makeshift door wing and giving it a jiggle. Some of the glue pulled free with the action "Having been sparked right before the fall of Praxus, he never witnessed the customs of his people and learned the proper way to approach courtship and attract mates."
"Gee, now I feel bad for turning him down," Jazz muttered. Had he been in control of the doorwings, they would have drooped.
"I'll be having a talk with him later," Ratchet said, adding more solvent.
"Sideswipe needs to realize some of his jokes aren't funny," Jazz said, remembering the hurt and confused look on Bluestreak's face as Jazz yelled his disinterest.
"Sideswipe never learns," Ratchet said, wiggling a little bit more free from its anchor. "He thinks everything is a joke and everything is for his entertainment."
"We'll see," Jazz muttered, his optics narrowing behind his visor. The burning went further down his back, making his internals feeling as if they were being boiled. "Want to help me teach him a lesson?"
Ratchet didn't even bother looking up from his work as he applied more solvent along the saboteur's false door wing. "If you can find a suitable punishment, then yes, I'm in. Fragger needs a good lesson."
"Oh, trust me, I have just the plan,' Jazz said, a sneer gracing his face that would have made Sunstreaker proud.
When Prowl awoke from his forced hibernation, the first thing he did was inquire the date and time. When the shock wore off, he called over ships comms for Sideswipe to spend the next two weeks in the brig. And just as Prowl felt justice had been done, Smokescreen sent out a comm., informing his fellow Praxian that Bluestreak had been a confused, gibbering mess since his deep sleep. After learning the aspect of why Bluestreak was upset, Prowl proceeded to schedule Sideswipe for every trivial task he could find. He even went so far as to give the frontliner only enough charge time between shifts before getting up and repeating the process. Sideswipe griped and complained, and finished his tasks, exhausted, and defeated. He swore he learned his lesson.
And all the while, Jazz was gathering the troops. When Sideswipe had been released from his last enforced work detail, he went gratefully to his berth, where he collapsed and fell into a deep charge. Jazz gathered all mechs to the rec room, minus Sideswipe. Even Sunstreaker was preset, though looking mutinous.
"So, everyone ready?" Jazz asked, glancing to the room at large.
Bluestreak averted his gaze from Jazz and murmured his assent with the others. It was taking the gunner time to understand the reaction his body naturally had to what he was supposed to recognize as a willing, available femme. Not only was he embarrassed by his own body's natural reaction, he was ashamed for allowing himself to succumb to the instincts to respond to such a ritualistic display , especially considering it was toward a commanding officer. Jazz had told Bluestreak he understood and forgave the transgression, but according to a still trembling Bluestreak, there was no excuse for his behavior and he was mortified that he had proposed such suggestible things to his unintentional mate. Jazz had laughed it off to make the young gunner feel at ease and with Smokescreen and Prowl's guidance, Bluestreak was starting to heal from the psychological torture he had unwillingly endured.
Bluestreak didn't know, but he had an audience to his embarrassment. Sunstreaker had been watching the timid Praxian since the incident, taking several stills of the young, naive face. Bluestreak wore his innocence like a bright shiny badge and it was refreshing to see something so pure in a war that had raged so long. Though Sunstreaker would be loathe to admit it, Bluestreak gave him hope. From where and for whatever reason he didn't know, but it was there. And he had every intention of capturing that innocence in a medium.
"Everyone all set?" Jazz asked, looking to the room at large. All mechs nodded, including Sunstreaker.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Jazz asked the golden mech. He didn't want Sunstreaker going and blabbing the plans to his brother.
"It's going to cost almost ten thousand dollars to replace my supplies from the little temper tantrum he pulled when he was first assigned the added duties," Sunstreaker said, optics narrowing. "Though I'm taking the money from his account to pay for the replacement, he just doesn't seem to learn. I think this is an excellent idea."
Sunstreaker didn't want anyone to know that he was incensed when he learned of Sideswipe's callous disregard to others on board. Sideswipe had even laughed at Bluestreak's nativity when Sunstreaker chastised him, and had been heard cat calling to the young gunner on a couple of occasions.
Yes, Sideswipe was his brother. His twin. The other half of his soul. But he was also what the humans call an 'asshole'. It was time he was taught an invaluable lesson.
Sideswipe woke up the next day feeling tired, but refreshed. Shaking off the lingering affects of a deep charge, he stretched, hearing several joints pop. His attention was drawn to the other side of the room where similar echoes were coming from his twin as he too woke from a deep charge. Sunstreaker was still stretching when there was a knock at the door. He glared to his twin, but Sideswipe rolled over, pretending to be still in the throes of waking up. Knowing it was typical, yet a counted on maneuver, Sunstreaker got up and answered the door. Jazz stood, face beaming as always in a jovial mood, his hand held out and displaying a silver can of wax.
"Sorry Sunny, I couldn't find the stuff you wanted," Jazz said. "But you can use this. It's just as expensive."
Sunstreaker offered an annoyed huff but took the offered can, his face twisting into a smirk before closing the door on Jazz in a dramatic fashion. Sideswipe chose that moment to announce his full consciousness and rolled to face his twin.
"Why did Jazz give you wax?" he said, pulling himself up and standing in front of his brother.
"Jazz was going into town and offered to replenish our supply," Sunstreaker said, looking the new can over as if he held clues to a mystery.
"Jazz is still mad at me," Sideswipe said, nodding toward the can. "He could have sabotaged the wax. I wouldn't use that if I were you."
"Who would sabotage wax?" Sunstreaker asked. Actually, he thought that was a valid point. But he already knew Jazz's plan and therefore was unafraid.
"Jazz," Sideswipe said giving the silver container a suspicious optic.
"You're just being paranoid," Sunstreaker scoffed, opening the can.
Sideswipe winced, taking a step back. When the can opened and the soft scent of mint wafted to his olfactory sensor, he frowned, glaring at the can. It should have exploded or something should have jumped out. But Sunstreaker didn't seem perturbed or even mildly bothered by the can of wax.
Sunstreaker lifted the can, sniffing it and giving it an approving noise.
"You're not going to use it, are you?" Sideswipe asked.
"Different brand than what I normally use, but I don't see why not," Sunstreaker said, subspacing his favorite applicator and lightly dipping the edge into the scented wax.
"Don't!" Sideswipe shouted as his brother applied the wax in a gentle, circular motion along his forearm.
"I'm not rubbing it in hard!" Sunstreaker protested. "I know how to apply wax!"
Sideswipe bit his glossa watching with wide optics as his twin applied the wax all over his body. When he was finished, he set the can aside and took out a chamois, his hands steady as the wax was buffed away. A minty smell filled their room as Sunstreaker buffed himself, Sideswipe torn between wanting to destroy the can of wax and waiting to see what would happen to his twin.
When Sunstreaker was done, he put his polishing cloths away and admired himself in the full length mirror in the corner of his room. He turned left and right, and though the wax wasn't his normal brand, it did make him shine rather beautifully. His optics caught sight of his twin watching him, obviously believing that Jazz had tampered with the wax in retribution. The only flaw with that theory was that Jazz knew better than to tamper with anything that belonged to Sunstreaker, especially anything that dealt with his personal maintenance and looks. Jazz wasn't suicidal.
Sunstreaker offered a noise of acceptance and turned, giving a little start as if just noticing his brother in the room. He nodded toward the can of wax. "You should touch up. Your paint looks dingy."
Sideswipe looked to his person. There were a couple of dull places, but on the whole, his plating was still shiny and just as eye catching as his brother's. He wasn't that bad looking, but with the disdainful sneer Sunstreaker was directing his way, he knew he better give himself the once over. Or else Sunstreaker wouldn't shut up and wouldn't be seen in public with him looking so 'savage'.
Taking the hint he lathered on the wax and began buffing as Sunstreaker canted his head slightly, watching his twin set to work. He redirected Sideswipe's motion twice before huffing and stalking to his twin, buffing the ruby frame to an immaculate shine. Sideswipe grunted with the force of Sunstreaker's attention but had to admit, the new wax did make him shine quite nicely. It was when he felt a strong pulse through the bond that made him look to his brother, unsure what had caused such a knocking sensation in his spark chamber. Sunstreaker was frowning, one hand leaving its task to rub absently over his spark chamber.
"What's wrong?" Sideswipe asked. He didn't like it when his twin had a spark ache. Sunstreaker's spark was the weaker of the two and had a tendency to become destabilized.
"Don't know," Sunstreaker muttered, returning his attention to his twins paint job and finishing with his polish. He stepped back to admire his work. "Not too bad. Course with the materials available, I did what I could."
"Oh, shut up," Sideswipe grumbled, placing the can on the shelf and giving the edges of his plating one last swipe.
Sunstreaker gave his brother's frame a critical optic, curt nod, then opened the door. The duo exited their quarters, Sideswipe's tank choosing that moment to grumble. They headed to the rec room to grab a cube of mid-grade.
Hound and Mirage were talking as they rounded the corner, almost colliding with the two. Normally both mechs would talk to Sideswipe, knowing Sunstreaker wasn't the social type, and would move on. But today, both halted and stared at the twin Lamborghinis.
"Morning,' Sideswipe called as he and his twin approached the two mechs.
"Morning," they chimed in unison, their optics darting from one Lamborghini to the next.
"Looking good, Sunstreaker," Mirage intoned as he gave a long draught.
Hound mirrored his companion's actions, his optics falling up on Sideswipe's ruby armor. He took a few inconspicuous sniffs before adding, "Sideswipe is looking rather radiant as well."
"Hmm," Mirage agreed, his optics roving with hungry intent over the lithe frame.
"Thanks, guys," Sideswipe beamed, puffing his armor and prancing past the two like a peacock in full display.
Sunstreaker went past, sharing the rare smile with Hound and Mirage. They smirked and took their leave for their shift, asking Sunstreaker for the favor of recording the proceedings so they could enjoy the fun later. Sunstreaker agreed, if only to teach his brother the lesson of humiliation.
When the two were standing next to the dispenser, Sideswipe received another compliment. He grinned, displaying himself in grand style, soaking in the attention and allowing the other bots a chance to bask in his radiance. He felt like Sunstreaker!
Jazz sauntered up, his optics roving over Sideswipe's frame before landing on Sunstreaker's. Sideswipe tensed, knowing the black and white officer was holding a grudge and that his justice was going to be swift upon the gorgeous, polished armor. But Jazz smiled and talked, and next thing Sideswipe knew, Jazz was leading Sunstreaker toward a table and the two were talking as if old friends.
Sideswipe stood stunned, staring at his twin and trying to understand the emotion being muffled through their bond. It was as if Sunstreaker was enjoying himself, and he tried to hide it from his twin. Confused, Sideswipe made for the table where his twin was sitting, but Ironhide and Trailbreaker blocked his path.
"Hey Sides," Ironhide drawled, his optics taking in the extra glimmer to the ruby armor. "You're looking rather polished today."
"Thanks," Sideswipe said, trying to sidestep his two road blocks but they countered his move.
"He means to say, you are looking particularly gorgeous today," Trailbreaker added, using all his will power to not break down into insane laughter.
"Sunny has a new wax," Sideswipe said, moving his body in a way that made the light catch the shimmering surface. "He let me borrow some."
"Looks good," Ironhide said, taking a step toward the ruby warrior and blocking his path with his body. "In fact, I wouldn't mind taking a closer look at your detailing."
"Maybe later," Sideswipe said, waving his hand and taking a step around Ironhide.
Ironhide frowned. Either Sideswipe was dense and not getting the clues, or Ironhide had lost his touch and could no longer seduce someone. Well, that was not only a sobering thought but a ridiculous one as well. Ironhide couldn't lose his touch. It was ingrain into his programming. Instead of letting the naïve frontliner get past him, Ironhide's arm darted out, grasping the frontliner around the middle. With obvious intent he drew the other ruby body against his own, his engine rumbling in suggestion.
"I want to inspect you now," Ironhide purred in Sideswipe's audio.
The effect was instantaneous. Sideswipe's spinal strut snapped to immediate attention, giving him Prowl's posture. His optics went wide, finding a rough hand caress his back while he was held immobile against a rumbling frame of an obviously aroused mech. Another hand soon joined the first and before Sideswipe could protest, both hands caressed down his aft, the digits sneaking into seams and touching sensitive wires.
Sideswipe yelped, jumping out of Ironhide's arms. The weapon's master gave a pouty face, his hand reaching out to stroke down Sideswipe's arm.
"What's wrong?" Ironhide asked, using his coughing engine as a sign of arousal instead of amusement.
"What is wrong with you?" Sideswipe asked, perturbed as to why he was just molested by the two mechs. "You've never…."
What the two mechs had never done was lost on Sideswipe's vocalizer as he felt a pang of arousal coming from his twin. When his optics snapped to the table where Sunstreaker was seated, Sideswipe saw with shocked optics, as Jazz linked fingers with Sunstreaker and both slipped through the door like young lovers. Sideswipe's jaw hit the floor.
"Nice," a voice murmured from behind Sideswipe before fingers trailed over his shoulder and down along his back strut.
Sideswipe shivered. He turned frightful optics toward the voice and found Windcharger and Bumblebee staring with hungry optics at his ruddy plating.
"Oh, Primus," Sideswipe muttered, his processor working double time. Realization hit with a planetary shudder.
"I must inquire," Perceptor asked, his head craning over a couple of mechs to see Sideswipe's terrified face. "What have you done differently that has enhanced your appeal to such a degree that I find myself unable to divert my attention?"
"You too?" Sideswipe cried out. He took a step back, staring in abject horror to the bots before him.
Windcharger extended his hand, wanting the ruby mech to take it and choose him above the others. Ironhide puffed his armor, taking a bold step toward the mech in question, his engine idling on high.
When a hand touched his own, Sideswipe jumped a foot in the air and let out an undignified squeak. He turned, finding the flared doorwings of Prowl standing behind him.
"Oh, thank Primus! Someone who can see reason!" Sideswipe said, wanting to laugh and cry at the lifeline offered by his most treasured nemesis. "Prowl, you have to talk some sense into .. in… into…"
Instead of Prowl breaking contact, he took Sideswipe's servo into his own and brought it to his lip components. He planted a chaste kiss upon the knuckles, his doorwings fanning wide in a courtship display. His optics was dark as he surveyed Sideswipe.
"Sideswipe," Prowl rumbled, never breaking optic contact.
Sideswipe let out a sound like a mouse being stepped on. He pushed away from the smothering crowd, staring at them with wide optics. He glanced to his forearm, where the ruby metal shone like a red dwarf, blazing for all to see.
"Jazz," Sideswipe breathed, his fuel pump hammering. "What have you done?"
"Saw Jazz being lead down the hall by Sunstreaker," Smokescreen said, pushing his way forward and giving Sideswipe's frame an appreciative glance. His voice dipped lower, sensual, as he added, "Never seen either so… amorous… before."
Sideswipe opened his side of the bond and felt an instant assault of lust and pleasure. The bond snapped closed so quickly, there was a slight pop in Sideswipe's frame.
"Primus," Sideswipe muttered, noting how Smokescreen mirrored Prowl's actions.
Both Praxians were flaring their doorwings and giving the customary flicker of attraction. Both were rumbling low in their chassis' their optics darkening as they stared into Sideswipe's optics.
Not knowing what to do, Sideswipe took a step away from the prowling duo and felt a hand grasp his own. He turned stunned optics to Tracks, who offered a coy smirk before pulling the Lamborghini flush against him. Tracks rumbled his high performance engine in a clear display of arousal, the vibrations shaking Sideswipe to the core and making his internals quake. Of course, with the fear flooding his senses, there was a good chance the arousal wasn't the cause of his tremors. Tracks licked his lip components, his arms encasing the still stunned Lamborghini.
"You are looking very handsome today with that gorgeous shine," Tracks purred, tightening his grip just a fraction. "Do you want to go to your room and see how shiny we can make each other?"
Sideswipe let out a yelp and wriggled free. He stumbled, looking from one libidinous bot to the next, all with darkened optics and honed in on his shiny frame like a bull after the red cape.
Smokescreen offered a little sniff and added, "I don't know what you used, Sideswipe, but it's an alluring fragrance."
"Very agreeable," Prowl nodded, shouldering Smokescreen aside and causing the other Praxian to hiss in retaliation. "I didn't know you could display such charming, and highly… provocative mannerisms to announce your desire for courtship."
"I… I … courtship?" Sideswipe asked, his voice cracking into a soft 'meep' as Prowl stepped forward. A stray sensation of pleasure slipped through the bond from his twin. Sideswipe clamped down hard on his end, trying to block out everything his brother was experiencing.
"Perhaps setting up Jazz was merely the test to ensure that he would have sufficient suitors?" Smokescreen said, nudging Prowl to try to enhance his virile display.
Prowl stomped his pede, clearly establishing himself as the dominate male to the other Praxian, but Smokescreen wasn't going to back down. Smokescreen answered by arching his doorwings, then flattening them along his back. Both glared in open hostility, until Prowl spoke, his voice rough and edged with masculine aggression.
"I propose we take him together," Prowl said, his optics boring into Smokescreen's. "Then he may decide which of us is the more alluring mate."
"Agreed," Smokescreen said.
Both mechs turned their attention to the now terrified front line warrior.
"Mechs, settle down," Gears said, huffing to the front and placing his hands on his hips. He glared to the assembled mechs, his face drawn in revulsion. "What is wrong you lot?"
Sideswipe felt a sudden urge to hug the minibot. Here was someone who wasn't trying to get under his plating. Here was an ally. Gears could put them all to shame and hopefully snap… whatever this was… out of the assembled mechs. Gears could curb even the most libidinous of moods. Sideswipe should know. He'd had many a good mood ruined by the annoying minibot.
"It's only fair that Sideswipe sample the minibots first, then work his way up to you larger, more brutish mechs," Gears said, turning his face toward Sideswipe.
And for once, anger and annoyance wasn't on the unattractive face. Optics were dark, lip components were curled in a lecherous sneer, and Gears' EM field brushed against Sideswipe's own.
Sideswipe emitted a strangled meep before turning and attempting to bolt from the room. A loud clang signaled his immediate arrest in momentum when his face collided with a solid windshield. He looked up the massive form into the gentle, kind, caring optics of his leader, his mentor, the only sane mech in the world.
"Sideswipe, what are you doing?" Prime asked in a long suffering voice.
"Everyone is crazy!" Sideswipe blurted out, his fingers latching onto Prime's chest plates and giving his much large frame a considerable shake. "Jazz spiked the wax and now they all want to spike me!"
"What?" Prime asked, fighting down the urge to laugh. Sideswipe really did look terrified.
"Jazz is mad at me for pulling a harmless prank, so he sabotaged a can of wax with some sort of…. pheromone, then ran off to take advantage of my brother, who doesn't deserve to be mech handled, least of all by Jazz, and now everyone is trying to get under my plating and I just want to get to the washracks and get this stuff off so everyone will go back to normal and leave me alone!" Sideswipe spoke in a rapid voice that could have given Bluestreak a run for his credits.
Prime looked to the assembled mechs, all of who were still staring transfixed at Sideswipe.
"Is this true?" Prime asked, his optics zeroing in on Prowl.
"Affirmative," Prowl said, ruffling his doorwings. "Sideswipe is displaying not only physical signs of desiring a mate, but he is exuding a scent that is attractive to males who find his courtship to be…" Prowl paused, taking a deep inhale, his optics going black with suppressed arousal, "Intoxicating."
"Prime, you have to help me!" Sideswipe shrieked, giving Prime another shake to emphasize his point.
"But if you're displaying signs…" Prime trailed off, watching as Sideswipe literally fell apart with desperate sobs.
"It was a joke," Sideswipe cried out, burying his face against Prime's chest. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"You mean, where you set up Jazz in such a provocative display and young, naïve, innocent, Bluestreak, who didn't understand what was going on, but was humiliated by the incident in question?" Prime asked, hoping the information was going to sink in. He pushed Sideswipe away, holding him at arm's length.
"Yes!" Sideswipe cried out, his optics wide as he stared up into Prime's face. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it. And now Jazz has gone too far and now everyone on the ARK wants to berth me!"
"It's not Jazz's fault you are actively pursuing a mate," Prowl said, his doorwings giving another flicker, though this time it was amusement. He kept a stoic face as he continued, "If one does not wish the attention of a potential mate, then one should not perform such rituals of display to broadcast their desire."
"I'm not!" Sideswipe cried out again, feeling an overwhelming sensation flood the bond.
Sideswipe felt his relays tingle in pleasure, the residual effects causing his EM field to flux, his engine surge with excitement. He gasped, feeling as if he was racing to overload, though there was no pleasurable stimuli upon his person. He shuddered, knowing his brother was causing the sensation. Another tremor ran through him, though it had nothing to do with lust.
"You should try minibots," Gears said, flexing his body and giving a twisted look. "We may be small but we know how to handle our partners."
"We are first," Smokescreen said, swinging his body wide to accommodate his doorwings. "We saw him first!"
"Did not!" Gears countered, raising his fist.
"Did!" Smokescreen yelled, his voice accented by Prowl's threatening growl beside him.
"Mechs, please!" Prime said, raising his hands to gain calm.
Sideswipe stood a blithering mess before the Prime, his face downcast as he tried to block out his twin and the deliriously sensual sensations flooding the bond. Sideswipe felt gratitude toward Prime for bringing order to the chaos. Primus, he had no idea how wound up the crew could get over something as simple as a joke. Perhaps it wasn't so funny afterall. Now that he had time to think, and experience some of the fear and humiliation, it definitely wasn't funny. Prime's strong hands braced Sideswipe's forearms, keeping him steady in a world that was spinning with insanity.
"But, it's not fair the minibots have to go last. We should be allowed to go in order according to size," Gears whined, grinning behind Sideswipe's back.
Sideswipe shivered, not liking the idea of having ANY minibot get that close and personal with him.
"That is a ridiculous suggestion," Prime said, feeling the tense bot relax in his grip. "We shall be fair about this. We go in order of rank."
Sideswipe's relaxation lasted only a second as he felt gentle fingertips trace along his arm and along his sides. His optics widened when he noted Prime's path to his waist and like a femme, he screamed and bolted from the rec room. His pedes rang like a battle song through the ARK as he raced for open air. As soon as he hit the entrance to the ARK, he transformed and zoomed out across the horizon, leaving behind a laughing crew.
Jazz handed Sunstreaker another energon treat as both sat in the security room, Red Alert laughing so hard he was laying face down on the consol. Bluestreak was blushing furiously in the background and refused to speak a word. Sunstreaker accepted the treat, a smirk lighting up his faceplates as he watched his brother's frightened tailpipes disappear from view.
"You were good," Jazz commented, noting how the screen lit up Sunstreaker's features in a very pleasant way. The Special Ops mech never knew Sunstreaker could smile. It was certainly an improvement.
"Your plan," Sunstreaker said, nodding to the video feed on the recording cameras.
They sat in silence for a moment, Red Alert still laughing his aft off. Bluestreak exited to find Smokescreen and Prowl to congratulate them on a scene well played. The mechs in the rec room went back to their daily routines, having enacted their part of the scheme. After a moment, Jazz turned to Sunstreaker.
"We made a good team," he said, watching Sunstreaker's reaction. "Ever think about changing to Special Ops?"
Sunstreaker offered a slow shake of his head, his optics watching the monitor as the whole scene was replayed over Tele-Tran's main systems.
"Not my thing," Sunstreaker said, hitting the button to make a copy of the prank so he could use it as blackmail later. Red Alert wouldn't mind. He was currently wheezing through his vents as consciousness threatened to leave him. "But you may want to stop by my quarters later."
"Right," Jazz nodded. "Have to torture your brother a little more by thinking we're an item."
"Fragger needs the lesson," Sunstreaker said, grabbing the datachip as it was ejected. "Besides, if he thinks you're with me, he'll avoid our quarters. And I get some peace and quiet from his stupidity."
Jazz nodded as Sunstreaker rose from his chair. He was to the door when Jazz called, "And Sunstreaker?" When the golden twin turned to acknowledge the black and white mech, Jazz added, "That polish does make you shine quite nicely."
Sunstreaker offered a smirk and disappeared through the door, Jazz snickering following him out.
As the ARK crew went about their business, Sideswipe was racing to the ocean. When he got to the shore he transformed and dove into the surf. Like a mech possessed he rubbed at his plating, scrubbing with a brush and solvent from his subspace. He vigorously rubbed and buffed and scoured and exfoliated, growling oaths that made the seagulls rebuke him as they flew off, offended. Sideswipe didn't notice them.
He also didn't notice the multiple specks on the horizon that signaled aerial attack.
Megatron had every intention of leading his troops to a power plant and collecting some fuel, but Soundwave informed him of an unexpected gift. A lone Autobot was on the shore, unaware of the danger circling above. When the other Decepticons confirmed that the Autobot was alone and indeed, ignorant of their approach, Megatron sent Starscream and his trine in to deal with the pest.
"Look what we have here," Skywarp chanted, teleporting to the shore and glaring across the water to the still scrubbing Autobot.
Sideswipe froze, his body turning in slow motion to see the three seekers standing on shore, Starscream in the forefront. Throwing up his hands in defeat, Sideswipe stalked toward the trio, Thundercracker and Skywarp leveling their weapons at the approaching Autobot while Starscream stood smug, flanked by his trusty bodyguards.
"Okay! That's it!" Sideswipe shouted, walking to the three mechs and leaving a trail of misplaced aquatic animals in his wake. "I've had it! I can't take it anymore!"
Raised weapons went unnoticed as Sideswipe walked straight toward Starscream. Megatron landed further away, a twisted smile as he expected both combatants to tear each other to pieces. It wasn't his original plan but it would be a bonus to his day. He didn't like either and if they terminated each other, well, he'd just have to celebrate by getting overcharged on the fuel they were going to steal.
"Stay where you are, Autobot!" Skywarp threatened, his weapons trained on Sideswipe.
"Oh, no, won't back out of this now," Sideswipe said, ignoring the weapons.
All of the Decepticons stared as Sideswipe approached, unafraid and unarmed to the elite trine. He stopped a couple feet short of Starscream, who stared dumbfounded at the idiot Autobot who dared such insubordination to the Lord of the Skies.
"I know I'm fragging hot and that you can't resist and truthfully, I have a thing for seekers, I just never said anything about it," Sideswipe said, his voice sounding annoyed, angry, exasperated, and with a hint of desperation. "So instead of doing the whole courtship thing, and giving you signals to let you know I'm interested, let's just forget all about it and get to the fragging. Because, quite frankly, I'm tired of dancing around the subject and it's been a long time since I had a good frag." He looked directly at Starscream before adding, "And I'm more than curious to find out how loud you can scream."
Starscream stood, mouth agape, processor frozen, fuel pump pounding in his audios. Surely he misheard the Autobot? He didn't say what he thought he just said? Right?
Time stopped. Silence reigned on the shorefront. The elite trine stood as statues, facing the ruby warrior who looked from one to the other, waiting to see who was going to act upon his offer first. His optics kept landing on Starscream, and with intent in his optics, his gaze traveled the expanse of white wings. There was the dull rumble of a racing engine throttling to high.
"Decepticons, retreat," Megatron called, jumping into the air.
It took a few moments but the other Decepticons followed suit. Thundercracker took off, realizing his plating was itching and his processor was aching. Whatever had gotten into the crazed Autobot, there was a chance Thundercracker had just picked it up. He was susceptible that way. Skywarp teleported away, instantly opening a comms to his trine mates.
'What the frag was that all about?' Skywarp asked, hovering over the beach as Starscream continued to stare at his adversary.
Starscream snapped out of his stupor and took to the air, glancing back to the ruby warrior before transforming to join the other Decepticons as they headed inland.
"Inquiry?" Soundwave asked, both verbally and through comms. "Autobot escape? Reason: unknown."
"Simple," Megatron said, glancing down to the tiny dot that was the Autobot. "Any bot who would want to frag Starscream has to be glitched in the processor and not worth our time."
Starscream glared at Megatron's back, wanting so badly to open fire and send the tyrant crashing into the trees below. But he refrained. Megatron's time was coming. Starscream just has to wait, and he was a very patient mech.
Down below, Sideswipe sighed, looking to his scratched and dull plating. When he took in his rather battered appearance, he realized it wasn't the best condition to be in to propose casual interfacing. He sighed, turning back to look out over the expanse of the ocean. A sheen of iridescent floated on top of the water, the innocent wax long since been scrubbed clean of its foundation.
Sideswipe shook his head in disgust. First he was too handsome and alluring, then he scrubbed off his 'sexy' and now he was like any other mech. He sighed again, knowing he would just have to work out the right mixture, and then, no one would be able to resist him.
He hoped Sunstreaker still had some of that wax left.
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NO, the idiot doesn't learn.
I apologize for any errors. Like I said, this almost didn't get finished in time. *guilty look*
Reviews are LOVED. Thank you all!
