Took out a bit from near the beginning, if you want to see it, look in my livejournal
Transformers belongs to hasbro
Megatron's berth is surprisingly comfortable, considering its size. There is a pleasant current running through it, and a soft metal mesh that is well worn in places, proving that it was not just put out to humor the small bot they were bringing for the evening.
There are cuffs laying out on the berth, and Oil Slick has the feeling that he now knows why his creators had such an easy time convincing Megatron to concede to their demands.
He carefully pushes the cuffs away, glad he has his chains hidden in his subspace. If he had put them in his room, he imagines that they'd be here right now. He is trying to figure out how to get out of this without actually running away when Starscream flounces in. He had never actually realized it before, but seekers do a very great deal of flouncing. He knows that movement is used to show how superior to everyone else they are, but he can't help but think of how silly seekers look when they do it.
If he ever reincarnates into a seeker again, he's going to have to keep that in mind and not do it.
Assuming his code doesn't override it and make him do it anyways.
Starscream dims his optics, "Ah. You managed to get him into the berth. Wonderful." He approaches Oil Slick and sits down beside him, resting a servo on the berth next to him. "I understand that you have suffered sparkbreak, but we were told that you . . enjoy chains very much." He strokes Oil Slick's wrists, right where cuffs would go. "It should allow you to enjoy the interfacing."
He wants to crawl into Starscream's lap and feel safe in his flockleader's arms. He resists the urge, keeping his expression neutral. "No."
Starscream raises an optic ridge, rubbing him on the tank, "No? You would prefer no chains?"
He pulls away, hating how his spark is yelling at him for denying Starscream. "No."
The seeker gives him a dark look, tugging him back, and rubbing him harshly on his plates. "Yes."
He slips away, and it is difficult when all he wants to do is gasp and moan to let his flockleader use him however he pleases. "No." It is also hard to only say no, but he doesn't want to implicate himself in something, and end up exposed.
Starscream narrows his optics and presses his claws into the seams of his sparkplates. "Open."
Refusing his flock leader is harder than ever, "N-no." His locks disengage with a click, and claws push his plates open.
"No, little bot? It is obvious your spark is willing."
He turns his head, forcing himself to push Starscream away and closing his plates as hard as he can. "No," and Primus, it is difficult to say it. He wants to be with Starscream to soothe away all the pain of the loss of his flock has done.
Maybe he'll crawl into the seeker's lap when he's working in the lab. He'd be much more willing if Megatron wasn't here. Well, not literally here. They're only in his room and the bot isn't actually her-
Megatron steps into the room, carrying a loose length of chain. "Ah, Oil Slick. I see you were waiting for me," the mech's voice is deep with promise of pleasure. "Won't you lie down?"
His spark throbs at the sight of the chain, and Oil Slick vents harshly for a moment-
Before he vanishes into the rafters and makes his way out of Megatron's quarters as quickly as his frame will carry him. He's going to regret this later, but he can't let the mechs have him. Even if it's a tolerable interface, he can't risk it.
There's no way he can interface with Starscream without calling him his wingleader.
When he's safely out of the commanding officers' hallway, he drops down to the floor. He knows he's allowed to claw at any bot that is about to step on him, and they all need to learn to watch where they walk anyway.
He's stopped about halfway to his room entirely unintentionally by Blitzwing. The mech just stepped out of a side hallway, carrying a datapad, and started walking next to him. He was about to either slow down, or disappear into the rafters again when the bot looks down at him. The mech's blue face is very neutral as he asks, "You are Oil Zlick, aren't you?"
The accent makes his backstrut tingle, it is somehow even better than Scalpel's. "... yes."
The bot taps the datapad, looking at him critically, "You are already drawing all sorts of attention from ze upper ranks. I can tell zat you are very nice, but you are no..." The bot trails off, then shakes his head. "Never mind. Zat is not for you. Return to what you were doing."
"Yes, General Blitzwing," Oil Slick says, and then turns to walk away, "Silly jetbot. You don't have to-"
A servo clamps on his shoulder, and Blitzwing's voice is low and dangerous, "What did you just call me, little mech?"
Oil Slick looks back over his shoulder, "General Blitzwing? Have I done something to upset you?"
The mech gives him a hard look, and there's a small trill of fear from his spark at the thought of the bot suddenly flipping to Hothead. "What did you just call me?"
"... General Blitzwing?" He's not really sure what the mech is talking about, and his spark feels like it wants to leap out of his chamber to cling to the triple-changer.
"Nein. You called me somezing after zat."
Oh.
He'd accidentally used his nickname for Blitzwing. His silly jetbot.
"I was thinking of Starscream," he says softly, hoping the mech will believe his lie. "He," he forces a blush, "wants me in his berth, but I have reason to believe I was sparkbonded, and feel no connection to him at all."
The bot frowns, but pulls away. "... no connection at all?"
He wonders what that is about. Shaking his head, he lies, "No, sir."
The bot lets out a tiny sigh that he wouldn't notice if he hadn't watched it over and over in his dreams, "Very well. You return to what you were doing, zen. I will not bozer you again."
"Thank you, General Blitzwing." Oil Slick watched the mech go with a heavy spark, hating himself for lying to the mech. He wanted to reveal himself.
Of course, it would help if he knew what his past designation had been.
Oil Slick resolves to hunt the information down as soon as possible. He'll have better luck finding out if there were any rumors of the pair bonding after he finds out who his spark had been.
He sighs softly, and disappears into the rafters. He doesn't want to deal with the traffic of the hallway now. Not when he would like to just find Blitzwing's quarters and beg for him to accept him here.
He doesn't know himself, and he feels lost and alone.
It isn't a fun feeling, and he is constantly searching for a way to balance himself metaphorically. All his ninjabot training doesn't save him from getting confused when he thinks of his past life. All that does is make him want to lash out at things so that he can get it done and over with.
He was never much of one for meditation.
... Maybe he should start, anyway. It would help him sort things out in his head.
"Acid Storm?" a familiar, screechy voice asks behind him, and Oil Slick turns to see who has entered his lab.
He frowns at Starscream, "Do you have reason to believe there's another bot hiding in here? Unless someone sent them here for punishment, it's just me and Scalpel." He glances around the lab, "I'm unaware of any other bots here right now, so you can just," he flicks his servos, "get going. I'm certain that Megatron has some use for you."
His wingleader puts his servos at his hips, and gives him a scrutinizing look, "That's odd."
He sighs, "What is odd?" He returns to mixing the chemicals like Scalpel had told him to, "If you're just going to make inane comments, you should go talk to someone who isn't working." Fragging flock leader and his insistence that he shouldn't be working in another bot's lab.
Starscream gives him a dirty look, "Normally a sparkbonded bot remembers their previous life's name first."
"You think I was this 'Acid Storm'?" Oil Slick asks. "You had a sparkbonded seeker near you, and you were not trumpeting that fact as loud as possible?"
Starscream waves a servo, "Not that I know of. Acid Storm's lover is acting odd, that's all."
He wonders if Acid Storm was Blitzwing's lover, but can't bring himself to ask. Instead, he returns to work. "That's nice."
The bots stomps over, and he can feel the raised servo that is either to hit or yank him, and he braces himself. So he's surprised when the mech's arm goes back to his side, and Starscream just says, "It isn't nice at all."
Oil Slick lowers his optics, his spark trembling with fear and upset. Flock members do not upset their leader like this. "I'm sorry. I know it must be very hard without a flock. Why haven't you gone to get new seekers?"
Starscream drops down beside him, slumping against the table. "Lord Megatron has refused my requests to go to Vos. I believe he fears I will stay there. They would gladly accept me as their leader, and not as a second-in-command."
He reaches over slowly, rubbing right where he knows all seekers love being petted - even if Starscream has a place he loves more, he isn't willing to reveal himself - right on the base of the wings. "Have you reassured him you would not?" He knows that Starscream loves Megatron with all his spark, and would not lose him if he could help it.
The seeker flops on the table, exposing more of his wings, but Oil Slick isn't tempted to explore it, not when his leader is so very depressed. "Yes. He doesn't even slagging care. He just wants me there with no care about what I need."
Oil Slick taps his claws on a sensitive panel of wing, to soothe the seeker. "Perhaps you should show him the research that shows that flockless seekers are more likely to rebel and suffer depression."
"He won't care," Starscream says morosely, wings slumping down in abject misery. "I have been alone for so long now, and Hailstorm has been on an away mission for three vorns now. Megatron does not care for my suffering."
He rubs the wing just the way Starscream liked it when he was a seeker, and murmurs softly, "I have a datapad on how upset lone seekers get. Would you like to present it to him?"
The mech shakes his head, "He'll just declare I'm trying to trick him or something else."
He isn't sure what to say about that, so he just moves so that he's sitting on the table, and takes Starscream's head into his lap to pet the bot's helmet. "You could have someone else give it to him? Possibly one of the other generals?"
It feels so good to have Starscream like this. To be pampering his wingleader the way the seeker deserves. It's almost impossible to resist the urge to find the bot's wing oils and work them into the delicate seams and folds of his wings.
"No. He still will refuse it for me." Starscream leans back and lets Oil Slick rub his helmet vents.
"A compromise, then? He could have seekers come here to audition for you." Even as he says it, he knows it's wrong. A wingleader went to his planet and selected the best and brightest. The ones who would not be willing to leave the planet unless ordered to do so by their wingleader.
Starscream shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding Oil Slick close, "No. No. No. I must go."
He rubs his leader's back, "I wish I could help." But he wouldn't be able to, even if he was still in seeker frame. It would just be him and Starscream, and he'd feel lost and broken as well.
The seeker's wings flutter in despair. "I just don't know wha-"
There's an angry chittering coming from behind him, and he can hear Scalpel say, "And just vhat do you zink you are doing to my Oil Zlick? You are also not allowed in my lab!"
Wings arch up and away in a display of dominance that has Oil Slick lowering himself submissively. Later, he'll be thankful that the two were too caught up to notice. "I am speaking with him. You do not ownhim, Scalpel. Lord Megatron owns him, and if I choose to speak with him, you cannot stop me. Not even in this lab."
"I am not owned by-"
"You are, little mech," Starscream says, pushing him down on the table. "When you took his oath, you gave yourself to him. We all did."
He squirms under Starscream, "I never took any oath." And he didn't. Which is actually quite odd now that he thinks about it. He saw the other bots take one, but he got moved straight to his lab and told to fix it up.
Starscream gives him an odd look, "Yes you did. No one is allowed on base unless they took the oath."
He shakes his head, "I didn't, and I was just dragged here first thing."
The seeker gives him a blank look, "I need to talk to Megatron about this."
Scalpel's peds tap angrily on the floor, "Good! Get out of my lab!"
Claws touch his cheek briefly. "You will be required to take his oath, even if you choose only to wear temporary paint. Even civilians must take his oath. It is a matter of security. If you cannot pledge yourself to him, we cannot have you here on New Kaon working for us. Do you understand, little bot?"
He knows. He remembers the pain of wing brands, and the bright, intense longing to belong to the mech that his wingleader loved so dearly. "Yes."
Scalpel scampers up the table, pushing at Starscream, "You! Out of my lab! Out! Out!"
The seeker stands up, running a claw along Oil Slick's frame, "I am going, Scalpel. You're only upset because he was petting my helmet."
The tiny mech hisses wordlessly, antennae flaring, then soothes himself. "Nein. You vere not supposed to be here. You vill get out."
Oil Slick sits up, picking Scalpel up and putting him on his lap, since he knows the petting isthe reason the bot is so upset. Rubbing the mech's back, he murmurs, "He misses his flock, Scalpel. It is not a bad thing that he's here."
"He vants your spark, and your spark is mine." Scalpel's optics brighten, "Ja! I know vhat vill show you. Come, come," he skitters off of Oil Slick's lap and back towards the door that separates the lab from Scalpel's quarters. "Come and see! I vant to show you my very special secret."
Oil Slick rises and follows him, curious about what the mech has hidden in his rooms.
The bot stops in front of the door, and looks around cautiously before putting a claw to the little scanner pad next to it. It is one that Oil Slick is fairly sure he could hack if he had wanted to, but it was never something he wanted to risk dealing with. Scalpel moves, pushing his ped, "Go, go. In, in." Another push, and he's walking, "You vill like him, I know it."
He isn't sure what he'll like, but since Scalpel insists on calling whatever it is 'he', Oil Slick imagines he really won't like it. All his spark longs for is Blitzwing, and another bot won't really help that.
"Scalpel?" a voice asks from the next room over, and Oil Slick's spark pulses with longing. That voice is . . it's tuned perfectly. He wants to sing with the bot that is making that vocalization. "You're back early this sol. Did Shockwave stop by again?" A gorgeous optic stares out at them, and then blinks with shock. It's the prettiest optic he's ever seen. Golden at the top, cascading down into purple at the bottom, in a gradation that no normal optic glass can create. "You . . you have a guest."
Scalpel climbs up the bot easily, making happy chirruping sounds, "Ja, ja. Zis is Dreadving, Oil Slick. Zis is Oil Slick, Dreadving."
The bot holds out a cautious servo, and Oil Slick moves forward, kissing the back of it like he'd had drilled into him since a sparkling when meeting especially pretty femmes. He has never been much for the femme frame - always drawn to Blitzwing for obvious reasons - but by Primuswere his creators not going to let him get away with being rude. "Hello, Dreadwing."
The bot, and he isn't sure if it is a femme or a mech since the bot moves like a mech but has all sorts of femme attributes, gives him an odd smile, "Hello, Oil Slick. Scalpel told me about you."
"Do you like him?" Scalpel asks eagerly, skittering up onto Oil Slick's shoulder. "He is very pretty, ja? He vill be happy to pleasure your spark viz his glossa if you vant it. Or maybe you can tie him up? He likes ze chains, don't you, Dreadving?"
The mech ducks his head and nods shyly, "Yes, Scalpel. I like when you tie me up."
That is not really the reaction of a bot that loves chains, and he gets the impression that Dreadwing only acts like he likes it for Scalpel's sake. He doesn't bother to point this out; let Scalpel believe his berthbot loves it. "That's nice." He reaches over, touching the pretty bot softly, "He has a beautiful voice. Did you modify it?"
Scalpel beams at him, "Ja! Isn't he prettysounding?"
He nods, touching the mech on the neck, right where the vocal processor is. "Incredibly so. Does he sing?" He really would love to do a duet. It has been a while since he could.
"Ja. I have heard him sing before, but he does not do it often."
Dreadwing smiles at him, "My modified vocal processor can become quite painful if I use it too long. I do not believe I could manage more than a single song at one time." He touches his neck cabling. "Scalpel prefers to have me silent most of the time."
The little mech strokes Dreadwing's rotor blades, which are draped seductively over a set of wings. "Ja. I like spending quiet time viz you, my bot."
Dreadwing blushes, and it is easiest the prettiest blush Oil Slick has everseen. "I like spending time with you, Scalpel."
He wonders if the reason Scalpel likes his berthbot silent is because Dreadwing isn't very smart or is boring. He isn't sure if he wants to know the answer. Instead, he touches the mech's neck again, "I would love to be able to sing with you if I could. I need to get back into the practice of it. There hadn't been much reason to sing for me before I got here, and I miss it." The cold room of his apartment wasn't worth it, and he wasn't allowed to at the labs.
"If you want to sing with me, I will try my best for you," Dreadwing promises, and then blushes again. "I sometimes forget the words, though. My processor is not so good with those things."
Scalpel strokes his helm. "Shh. It is alright, meine Dreadving. Ve have fixed most of your processor glitching, ja? Ve make sure you transform every decacycle now. Ve vill not have zat problem ever again."
Oil Slick kind of wonders what Dreadwing turns into, since he can't tell anything specific from how the bot is shaped. If anything, he'd say the mech turns into a cube like a sparkling, but that's simply not possible. Even withheavy modification. "You don't have to sing with me. I don't mind." Even though a small part of him does. He should have his flock around him to sing with, and feel like everyone else is just jealous of how awesome they are.
But now he does realize how terrible seekers are at singing.
"I would like to." Dreadwing leans in close, "And then I would like to interface with you. It is not often that Scalpel brings other bots to see me." He rests his claws on Oil Slick's hips. "I hope to please you in whatever ways I can. I am very skilled in the berth. You will not be unsatisfied."
Oil Slick holds up his servos, "I have no wish to interface with you. I lost my sparkbonded and reincarnated. Other bots do not satisfy me."
Dreadwing gives him a disappointed look, but nods. "If that's wha-"
Scalpel reaches over, putting a claw in the mech's mouth, and giving Oil Slick a dim opticked look, "I told you zat I have special chemical zat will take ze discomfort avay. You will not have to vorry about zat."
He shakes his head, "It isn't discomfort, Scalpel. It is the fact that you aren't my sparkbonded. The one my spark longs for and can not have. I have tried 'facing a bot, and it did not work out." He was just so disappointed in Prowl, and it wasn't even his old friend's fault.
Scalpel hums consideringly. "I could modify Dreadving's spark for you for the sol. He has a," the bot wiggles his tiny arms around, "in his sparkchamber, and it allows me to alter ze pulsation, vavelength, and resonance of his spark. It is not ze most comfortable zing for him at first, but he is used to it by now, aren't you my Dreadving?"
The mech nods, "Yes, Scalpel. I would not mind being altered for your use, Oil Slick."
He shakes his head, having thoroughly been turned away from 'facing any bot because of the first disaster. "I'm fine how I am." He still has yet to try self-servicing here, but that has more to do with the fact that he wants to check his room for cameras, and hasn't gotten around to it more than anything else. He really should, since his charge balance is getting quite bad.
Scalpel frowns at him, "I vant to see you riding my Dreadving's spark."
He raises an optic ridge, "Megatron wants to see me doing that to Starscream. I'm not going to indulge him with that. I also have no interest in 'facing Dreadwing."
"Feh. Fine." Scalpel skitters up onto Dreadwing and scowls down at him. "Zen get out of my quarters. I vill not let you sing viz him. You can just go be a stick in ze mud elsevhere." He strokes Dreadwing's armor, "I vill use you, meine Dreadving. do not vorry."
The larger bot pets Scalpel's back and murmurs something to him, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to exit.
Stepping out of the room, he is accosted by General Strika. He hadn't even known the intimidating femme was on base. She is normally off doing things with Lugnut or with her team on other planets. "There you are, little bot." He's grabbed by the waist in one large servo and picked up, "You are a security risk. Ve vill be taking you to have your oath now."
He blinks, "That was fast. I wasn't expe-"
She puts a finger in his mouth, and he makes a face. "You vill not talk. Ve do not know if you are even safe to have here. Lord Megatron says he vill not be branding you for some reason, but you musttake ze oath."
He flicks his glossa against her finger, and she removes it. "I was not objecting. I was simply not expecting him to summon me so quickly."
Strika makes a displeased noise and pushes her finger into his mouth to silence him. "Little mechs should not speak vhen they are told to be silent. You should be respectful. If you backtalk Lord Megatron during the ceremony, I vill make you regret it."
He sighs softly, letting her shift him to a more comfortable position. He knows better than to argue with a femme. His creators have proven that over and over.
When he's brought to Lord Megatron, Strika puts him on their leader's lap, and says, "Here he is, my Lord. He vas hiding in the labs."
Oil Slick makes sure he doesn't look around, not wanting to see if Blitzwing is there to see this or not. He knows his spark will pulse very noticeably if he sees the mech.
"I see." Megatron touches Oil Slick's chest, right where he would carry his new mark. "I made a promise to your creators that I would not brand you. That I would not mark you against your will."
That was news to him. As far as he knows, Megatron does not allow this of anyone. "Why was I so special?"
"Because Shockwave informed me that you were brilliant, and," he rubs Oil Slick's sparkplates, "also that you love chains. That you love them so much you occasionally tie yourself up in your berth and pleasure your spark that way."
He freezes. He knew his creators had told Megatron this, but it just confirms this even more. What's worse is that Megatron announced it to everyone. He's not going to get a moment's peace because of this now. He pushes the servo away, "And I'm a sparkbonded bot. There's no way I'm going to-"
The servo pushes against his plates possessively, "You are not bonded right now, and you think that your bonded is not there. Your charge is off balance, as well. You should try 'facing a bot." The bot being Megatron, going unsaid.
He shakes his head, "No." He moves away, only to get tugged back. "N-no." He slips out of the grip, "You may have been able to before, but not now." He takes off to the rafters, disappearing from sight.
Strika curses, and stamps one large, flat ped, "You get back down this instant, you brat! You vill take the Decepticon mark now, or ve vill hunt you down and strip you for parts!"
"Calm yourself, Strika. You know that I do not frag bots without branding them. He has just proven that he has already taken my oath in his past life, and a branded oath is carried forever by the spark." A chuckle, "And I can wait for him to calm down. Perhaps give him a gift of cuffs."
He shivers in the rafters, both wanting that and not wanting it at all. He knows that if he accepts such a thing, he'll be shoved down and used instantly, but refusing it is an insult.
He... he just needs to figure out a way to get Blitzwing to love him is all.
The thought hurts his spark. He knows the triple-changer wouldn't really want him. Not when the bot is with Shockwave. He's seen the videos of Blitzwing kissing the other mech, he knows he doesn't have a chance, and he's still not desperate enough to climb into the berth and share the mech with the creeper.
He'll just avoid Blitzwing for now. The mech has been largely uninterested in him thus far. He only has to stay disinterested for Oil Slick to avoid his notice. Hopefully, after a stellar cycle or two, the interest in him would die down, and he could get back to work without being harassed by bots wanting to chain him down and frag his spark.
He can do this.
Please Review
Took out a bit from near the beginning, if you want to see it, look in my livejournal