SN: People asked for a sequel to Horny. This is the 1st of 2 that are planned. This chapter is rated M, as it contains SLASH, and kink. You have been warned.

AN: Many thanks to ryagelle and tactilecontact (from LJ) for looking over the early version and giving me the confidence to continue.

Obedient

Bluestreak was very careful not to fidget as Ratchet fixed the minor glitch in his transformation sequence. The gunner, had he been capable, would have been blushing. As it was he was unable to look the CMO in the eye. Primus, was it only yesterday he'd come in for this glitch and come out with an eyeful? Optimus and Ratchet. Ratchet and Optimus. Hatchet and Prime. It seemed impossible to wrap his mind around.

"That's it. Don't let me catch you in here again." The medic paused. "And Prime wants to see you in his office as soon as you're finished here." The Datsun's head shot up, optics locking on the ambulance's. Suppressing a shudder, he watched a knowing smirk spread across Ratchet's face. "You're done here, so get going."

"Thank you Ratchet," Bluesteak stammered as he hopped to his feet and fled the medbay. He moved quickly through the corridors of the Ark, absently greeting those he met. Never had he been more thankfully that his lovers were out on patrol. He'd managed to avoid explaining his... sudden increase in libido to them yesterday, and the last thing he needed was them cornering him before he had a chance to speak with Prime.

Finally he stood before the his destination. Nervously he shifted on his feet; gathering his courage, Bluestreak rapped lightly on the door. It slid open soundlessly. Hesitantly the sharpshooter edged his way in to the office. As he cleared the doorway, the door slid shut with a click, and Bluestreak could not help the strangled squeak that escaped him.

Optimus Prime did not even look up from his data pad. Tentatively Bluestreak moved a little closer, hoping and dreading, to catch the larger mech's attention.

"That's far enough." His attention remained on the pad, as Bluestreak froze. Despite everything Bluestreak couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. Being this close kept drawing up images of the incident, and the commanding tone Prime used... Well someone would have to be stupid to not see how it was effecting the young mech.

A couple of klicks later, and Optimus Prime set the data pad down with a deliberate thunk. Thoughtfully he looked up, an appraising gaze racking over his subordinate. Bluestreak shifted uncomfortably again. As Prime folded his hands in front of him it was as if a dam had burst.

"I'm sorry sir. I was just waiting for Ratchet. I didn't mean to spy on you! You see had this glitch in my transformation sequence, and..." Prime held up a hand to halt the tide of words.

"Ratchet and I are quite aware that you were not spying on us. However it does bring up some concerns. If the Decepticons were to learn of the relationship that he and I share, it would be inconvenient, as well as make Ratchet a greater target then he is now."

"Of course sir1 I won't tell any one!" Prime silenced him, again, before he could release another flow of words. Before the Autobot leader could speak, he was interrupted a knock on the door. Without waiting to be acknowledged, Ratchet unceremoniously opened the door and stepped in. Bluestreak tensed.

Ratchet smirked, before joining Prime on the other side of the desk. Bluestreak was feeling distinctly uneasy. There was something else going on here. Something they weren't telling him. "Have a seat Bluestreak." Prime gestured to the chair to the side of his desk. Hesitating momentarily, Bluestreak obeyed. He looked up into the eyes of his mentors. Something was there lurking just below the surface, but as much as is made him nervous, Bluestreak could feel the flush of his plating heating up.

The elder bots shared a glance, before racking their optics over the younger mech. "Did you ask him?" Ratchet questioned suddenly.

Optimus let out a low chuckle, but before he could say anything the medic yanked him up into a heated kiss. The gunner leaped to his feet, optics wide, and began edging towards the door.

"Stop right there Bluestreak." Ratchet has broken the kiss, leaving Prime rapidly cycling air. The medbot circled around the desk and around the frozen bot. Desperately Bluestreak tried to suppress
the desire that was licking through his circuits. A gentle caress between his doorwings drew a startled yelp, and he jumped back towards the desk.

"Now Ratchet. Perhaps we ought to explain things before we start molesting him."

"Hmmm. You're correct. Now Bluestreak we know you saw us in the medbay yesterday." The gunner shot a whimpering look at the Autobot leader.

"No Optimus didn't tell me. I'm a medic. My sensors told me you were there." He leaned in close to the younger's audios. "As they told me the effect the sight had on you." Bluestreak squirmed uncomfortably.

"Now Optimus and I were talking, and since you seemed to enjoy the brief glimpse you caught yesterday, we're going to allow you to enjoy the whole show." As he spoke the medic was circling the gunner, herding him towards one of the chairs. Moments later Bluestreak was seated ; the CMO standing over him. "However there are some rules. You may only watch. No speaking and touching." Ratchet hesitated then continued. "Us or yourself. Do you understand?"

The Datsun nodded dazedly at the question Bluestreak couldn't believe what was happening. He had never seen either of the elder bots act like this, and Prime seemed content to just let it happen. It put him just enough off balance that all he could do was obey.

Satisfied Ratchet returned to Prime's side. With great care he he drew the larger mech to his feet; leading him around, and arranging him so that he perched languidly on the edge of the desk.

"Are you watching Bluestreak?" Without waiting for an answer the medic drew the autobot leader into a powerful kiss. Optimus moaned into it, but otherwise didn't move. Unhurriedly Ratchet began to caress the sides of the semi's head, hands leisurely moving up to tease the antennas. Breaking the kiss, he cast a sly glance at their audience. Bluestreak gripped the arms of the chair, seemingly unable to look away from the site of the elder two together.

The CMO slowly moved his hands down the body before him, digits gently scraping against the glass of his chest, before moving to one side massaging the plating of his shoulders. As Optimus Prime groaned at the contact Ratchet deftly switched sides, repeating his actions on the other shoulder. Bluestreak's intakes were roaring, he noted, furiously trying to cool his rapidly overheating body. Keeping his pace he continued his trek down his lover's body.

Bluestreak couldn't help it. He moaned, wishing desperately for touch. Them, himself, it didn't matter. If the sight yesterday had merely aroused him, he didn't know what to call today's display. Bluestreak kept moving restlessly, his body betraying him, even as he fought to obey Ratchet's commands. His eyes never left the medic's hands as he expertly manipulated his lover. Ratchet knew exactly where to touch to both please his lover and enrapture those watching.

All too soon, or perhaps not soon enough Optimus tossed he head back and let out a guttural moan, as his overload crashed through him. The flair of the energy triggering Ratchets own overload. Bluestreak trembled. He was close, so close, but even the energy from the elder mechs was enough. With a whimper that danced the boarderline between pain and pleasure, he was on his feet and racing out of the office, intent on finding his lovers.

The two lovers lay on the desk, basking in the after glow. Silence was only interrupted by the gradual slowing of cooling fans. Eventually the silence had to be broken.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have done that. It was... crude."

Ratchet just leaned up an softly kissed the mech. "Mmm, but he enjoyed it. Besides it will keep all three busy for the next couple of days."

Prime conceded that the medic had a point, even as he relaxed further into his lover's arms. Bluestreak would most certainly keep the twins busy, if yesterday was anything to go by.

AN2: Alright a couple of things:
1) I like the idea that Optimus giving up control in consensual sexual situations, be cause it is the only time he can.
2) I am in the process of moving and start a new job on Monday. This means that writing time will decrease until everything is straightened out. (Luckily I will be able to mooch internet from a friend until I get my own.)