Title: Consort 6 - Tragedy and Reunion
Author: Femme4jack
Rating: NC-17
Continuity: AU Multi-continuity Fusion Madness (in other words I'm picking and choosing stuff I like and totally making slag up).
Characters & Pairings: Optimus Prime x Mirage, Jazz
Summary: Tragedy interrupts Optimus and Mirage's bonding orn.
Notes: For White Aster for her winning bid on the FandomAid Help Somalia Auction on livejournal. Thanks for the delicious prompt and for your generosity!
Acknowledgments: See previous chapter
Chapter Warnings: Explicit smut (mech/mech sticky, oral).
Mirage came out of recharge curled up close in the space between Prime's arm and torso. The massive arm was extended over him protectively, and bent at the elbow so that Prime's large hand rested on the curve of Mirage's aft. His valve and portions of his frame ached deliciously from the thorough attention he had received the evening before in the midst of the repeated bonding merges. Their fields were intertwined, and a sweet pleasure was pulsing in his spark as he recognized another presence within it that belonged there as surely as he belonged at Prime's side.
It was, quite simply, the nicest onlining Mirage could ever recall.
He automatically initiated a scan for errors and conflicts in the profiles currently running and on standby in his CPU, ready to recode or patch any issues that had arisen. But before he even had started the diagnostic, he stopped. There was no need; he was not running a profile. He felt a shiver of unbridled joy and excitement run through him as he realized he truly had a core personality matrix and was no longer an aching emptiness underneath a multitude of masks.
The profiles still existed, of course, within the unique decentralized extra processor that had been Alpha Trion's contribution to Consort (and SpecialOps) Engineering. His second (and by far more powerful) processor was nanite-based and not localized to a particular portion of his protoform. The cloud processor was difficult to damage and hack because the nanites it ran on all had secondary functions that masked their primary. Should a portion of it be lost, built in redundancies allowed nanites that were not part of the processor to be integrated into it by activating a kernel code that infected his entire system.
The cloud processor normally loaded his CPU with whatever profiles and memories he needed to run, and those, temporarily, became his core code. It was even able to make his central processor forget it was running a profile or that it had other profiles waiting in the wings. It could, quite literally, disappear without a trace until he needed it again, and was the reason he had been able to fool both Soundwave and Jazz for so long, considering the respective heads of Intelligence and Special Operations for both factions had debriefed him regularly and had never realized he had been running profiles that were hiding a much more complex reality.
It had fooled them, but somehow, even when Mirage had not been consciously aware, his spark had still felt the emptiness underneath. Now, however, his central processor was running a true "core" code based on the personality matrix that now resonated within the cloud itself, making it clear that the rest of the profiles were just that - tools to be used which were not him
He briefly pondered whether he should dump the profiles altogether, but quickly opted to disable them, keeping them available should he still need them for missions. This, in turn, made him realize his intention to eventually resume being a spy. It thrilled him to know that it was truly his decision, made by his own core code and spark. He enjoyed the challenge, and relished using his unique abilities to help his Lord and the Autobots.
Optimus would worry about him to be sure, but would also welcome him back from missions with a passion that made Mirage shiver to imagine. Optimus wanted Mirage strong and independent, to make choices in line with his own desires. His sub function as a master spy was part of what made him valuable, and continuing his work in SpecialOps would assure Optimus that Mirage was his own mech. This, in turn, would allow him greater freedom in indulging Optimus without the accompanying guilt his bonded was prone to. And he wanted it. He wanted it!
It was... intoxicating, realizing that he had desires that were his own, and that his bonded truly wanted that for him. It was not just empty platitudes that Optimus had given. It was the truth that Mirage found in Prime's spark and allowed his code to weave itself into what he was becoming.
Mirage looked at his own frame, running his hand along his unique shape that blended soft curves and strong angles in such an alluring manner. Returning to espionage would require frame modifications as well as some form of internal modulator to change the way his spark resonance teeked. Should he ever captured, his chance of survival went from slim to none if he were recognized. He briefly mourned that it might mean the loss of some aspects of his elegant and beautiful consort frame. But at the very least, he needed thicker armor and to have a configuration that was not instantly recognizable as the Consort who had been gifted to Megatron by Lord Xeon. It was not like there were other frames that came close to resembling his. Though, perhaps with his cloud processor no longer so strained by coding conflicts, he could integrate a secondary frame configuration to be used only on missions.
But that was all a concern for another orn. He was in no hurry to leave Prime's side and return to being Jazz's agent. He and Optimus needed time to solidify their bond, their coding would compel them to merge and interface repeatedly. There were many decaorns, perhaps even vorns of care Prime needed lavished on him to make up for far too much time alone and untended. His primary function would always be that of Consort, with Espionage as a secondary function when it was needed.
Just thinking about that primary function turned Mirage's attention to the massive warrior frame he was curled up against. Prime was still deep in recharge, and because his spark knew the one lying with him as bondmate, Mirage's own active systems were not triggering a premature online cycle. Taking advantage of that, Mirage began stroking the sensitive spaces in his lover's armor and slowly built the charge in the resting frame. When he could visibly see the static charge following his fingers, he slipped out of his sheltered spot and situated himself between his lover's thickly armored thighs. He searched around and found the manual latch, sliding away Prime's lower interface panel, and even as he heard the large mech's active systems powering up, Mirage started tracing the rim of Prime's valve with his glossa.
"Oh Primus," Optimus groaned as came fully online with a jerk of his hips. Mirage transmitted a sultry and suggestive glyph without removing his mouthplates from their current treat. He then reached under the thick thigh armor of Prime's thighs to place both hands directly on his hip joints and hold them firmly in place. He continued to trace the rim of Prime's valve, circling but never quite touching his highly sensitive anterior and posterior nodes. Then he quickly dipped his glossa inside to taste the flowing lubricants and lightly tease sensor-covered nubs.
"Oh Mirage, that feels wonderful," Optimus murmured, bending his knees to give his consort better access.
Mirage nibbled on the posterior node in response, which had Prime momentarily escape his hands and thrust up again. ::Be good,:: Mirage commed playfully. ::Stay still and I'll give you all the attention you need.:: He resumed his glossa's exploration, at times deliberately avoiding the nodes, and then suddenly stimulating them with probing licks or a gentle nip of his dente. He pushed two of his slender fingers inside and began tracing the outlines of the tightly shut grooves and the sensor nubs that had no signs wear. Prime's valve clearly had never received enough attention.
It was one of the many secrets Mirage had already uncovered in his lover's beautiful, strong spark. When Optimus had been Orion, his size and gentle dominance made him very desirable as the penetrative partner. For the most part, Optimus enjoyed (and preferred) that role. It came naturally to him, even more so with the dominant coding that came with being Prime. But Optimus also longed for the opposite, the pure indulgence of having the most sensor-laden portion of his frame pleasured and cared for, and Mirage had every inclination to take good care of his Lord.
Mirage could feel Prime having difficulty relaxing his calipers as he gently slid in a third and then a fourth digit and flared them, stroking the closed internal grooves to encourage them blossom open. When his fingers finally stroked the most sensitive of the nodes, hidden within the grooves, Prime's entire frame jerked in surprise ecstasy, making Mirage wonder if any before him had ever managed to coax those grooves to reveal the pleasure within them. The deep groans and growls were a reward all their own for his efforts. He began to slowly thrust his digits in and out of the opening valve while his glossa and mouth plates focused on the anterior node. Suddenly a large hand came down to grasp Mirage's helm and pulled him up Prime's large frame.
"Yes?" Mirage asked innocently as Prime's other hand fumbled at his consort's upper interface panel.
"Please... spike me," Optimus pleaded.
"Hmm...I'm not sure you phrased that in quite the proper tone, my Prime," Mirage responded coyly, hearkening back to prior evening and the humorous thoughts they had shared as their sparks simply rested against one another, coronas mingling in the aftermath of one of their many merges.
Optimus paused, as though convincing himself that it was truly allowable to indulge in the game his bonded was urging. Then Mirage saw his optics darken. "Spike me NOW, Consort!" Prime growled in a tone that could have made even the most trouble-making soldier instantly obey.
"Mmm, that's what I was looking for, my Lord," Mirage replied, sliding back his panel and sinking deep into his bonded in a single, graceful movement.
Prime's little used valve felt surprisingly tight, calipers clamping down on the invading pressure in a way that made their size difference matter very little, but not so much that the internal grooves were fully shut. Mirage moaned and rested his helm against Prime's torso, venting hard as his frame was engulfed with heat and charge. It felt like he was sliding into pure bliss. Once he was fully seated, his customized spike began making adjustments to match their every groove and nub, and then flared itself to stimulate the internal nodes in a pulsating rhythm.
"Slag yes!" Optimus growled, and Mirage's field pulsed proudly before he was crying out himself as he pulled back and thrust in again. He had not yet had an opportunity to test out this particular upgrade Alpha Trion had insisted on including. Lord Xeon had almost refused it, considering that the cost of this particular spike could have purchased a small mining colony, not to mention how unlikely the Emirate thought it would be for the Consort would be penetrating the Prime. But as Mirage began to move his pulsating spike in and out of Prime's clenching valve, the high forged mech felt like screaming his thanks to Primus that Alpha Trion had won that argument. It was as though they had been built for one another, everything matching up with a white hot perfection.
To have his bonded, his beloved Lord Prime, reduced to begging that he not stop, roaring glorious demands of harder and faster, was almost enough to push Mirage over the threshold even without the accompanying surges of charge racing along his entire sensor net from each node in his spike. As it were, only his hastily activated inhibitor kept his overload from erupting in ecstasy before Prime's own shattered the massive frame.
It was only when both of them had settled that they noticed the pinging at the door and the base AI announcing that Jazz was requesting to enter.
"Oh slag," Optimus groaned. He was half tempted to use the weight of his hands to urge Mirage to remain within him, but only a true emergency would have led to an interruption of their bonding orn. Even still, he made a protesting sound as Mirage pulled out of him, but centered himself and relaxed as his Consort began deftly cleaning off both of their frames. Before he could move himself, his bonded had gone through the portal that separated the berth chamber from the front room. Optimus followed him more slowly, entering the rounded chamber even as Mirage was ushering Jazz in. His lieutenant, covered in soot and pollutants from his travels, was obviously upset, his normally tightly reined field teeking blatantly with tangle of worry, anger, and sadness.
"Ah'm sorry t' interrupt," Jazz said, gesturing to the seats and collapsing on one himself. Optimus sat in his normal large chair, leaning forward with concern, while Mirage quickly activated a cube and filled it from the standard grade dispenser on the wall, placing it in the silver mech's waiting hand.
"You would not have done so unless it were truly needed," Optimus said. "What has happened."
"Ya'd better sit, Mirage," Jazz said. Mirage suddenly felt a need for proximity to his bonded, and with unspoken agreement from Optimus, he found himself on Prime's lap with broad arms circling him for their mutual comfort.
"There ain't no easy way t' say this, so Ah'm just gonna put it bluntly. Crystal City's gone. Slagged from the inside - some sort of massive explosion that set off a chain reaction. We hadn't even communicated with Mirage's House yet. Ah was on mah way with an Ops team t' take Xeon into custody and meet with the House's other leaders when we ran into the first of the refugees. The only thing we know is that somehow the city's Omega Sentinel got called away. Ah've sent mah team t' investigate and Prowl's coordinating rescue an' recovery."
The next several decaorn were a whirlwind of activity. The explosions at Crystal City had been catastrophic, but had also been an act of sabotage, not an outright attack like the destruction of Kalis and Praxus. This left many more survivors, some of whom were horribly injured and on the brink of extinguishing. Optimus had led the rescue effort personally, both out of his own sense of obligation and to dispel the rumors already being circulated that the Autobots had been responsible. Mirage spent his orns directly assisting the refugees from the city who were pouring into Iacon. He also spent a great deal of time when he wasn't actively assisting them underneath his electro disruptor, attempting to glean clues from the survivors about the events leading to the city's destruction.
Crystal City was the hub of learning and scientific progress, and home of many of the wealthiest and oldest Houses of the High Forged. If Iacon, as the political and religious center, were Cybertron's Spark, Crystal City was both processor and energon. Refugees from the city were furious that it had not been better protected, despite it having been assigned one of the few remaining Omega Sentinels and having its own dedicated enforcer cadre that was, in and of itself, a small army. No one seemed to recall that the city was also officially neutral, and had eschewed in the past offers for an Autobot base.
It soon became clear that just prior to the massive explosion, two unusual things had taken place. First, Crystal City's Omega Sentinel had been inexplicably called away, and then had been seen only briefly on the outskirts of the slagged city upon his return, only to disappear again. Second, the city's brilliant and famous architectural and engineering team had come to visit, though had been seen by relatively few and had left quickly.
Mirage's intelligence was transmitted to Nightbeat, who was investigating the explosion on site and believed that the catastrophe had been caused by deliberate sabotage of the city's own substantial defensive arrays. It was something that could have been accomplished by the Constructicon team, though why they would destroy what had been their crowning achievement was still a mystery.
Finally, one other telling clue emerged: The head of the Science Academy was located amid the damaged mecha, and when he came out of stasis, Emirate Perceptor had explained that just orns prior to the destruction, the governing board of the officially neutral body had made a secret decision to throw their support to the Autobots, hoping to swiftly end the war. Lord Xeon, who also sat on the board of the Academy, had protested vehemently.
When Xeon, too, was located, barely functioning, his last living experience had been an interrogation by Prime himself. Lord Xeon had sent word to Megatron of the Academy's defection, along with an elegantly worded reminder of all of the support he had given the Decepticon cause and the fact that through Megatron's Consort, they were kin. Megatron had duly informed him that he was sending a team of his own scientists to investigate the matter and make an appeal to the Academy, and had assured the Emirate that his loyalty would be well rewarded.
The Constructicons, who had not previously been known to have allied themselves with the Decepticons, had made a brief appeal on Megatron's behalf, been told that the Academy was still officially neutral, and then had apparently left the city. The explosions had begun only breems after they had been seen departing. One of the last things that Prime had learned from Xeon's spark was that the Emirate had funded a former Academy scientist named Shockwave, who had created a particularly pernicious viral obedience code Xeon had originally used for slaves within his own household and which Megatron was using to swell his numbers. It was not difficult to put the pieces together to see how the formerly peaceful Constructicons, famous for the creation of things of exquisite beauty, had turned to destruction.
Optimus returned to Iacon only when the last of the wounded had been stabilized enough for transport, and then had spent many additional joors circulating among the refugees of the once proud city, offering his dignified compassion, soothing their anger, and assuring them that all that could be done to keep them safe and fueled within Iacon, would be. His own spark surged with pain and a sense of failure at the loss of both life and knowledge. He was the Prime, charged with the well being of every spark of Cybertron, and the planet was crumbling around him.
On top of that was the near agony of separation from his newly bonded. Their bonding code compelled them to merge and interface with high frequency to strengthen the bond, and by the end of his time in Crystal City, his spark had been throbbing with pain. He could have had Mirage accompany him to Crystal City, but knew himself well enough to know that the code that compelled them to solidify their bond would have prevented both of them from doing the work they needed to do. He also could not risk Mirage being publicly known yet as the high Consort.
What he had not said was that he could not bear for Mirage see the visible sign of his own failure to protect his city and House.
He was not certain what to expect when he stumbled into his own quarters, in desperate and equal need of fuel, recharge, and to renew their bond. Their connection was too new for him to feel Mirage from a distance, and his lover had been stoic and practical after Jazz had given the news. He knew from their brief communications on highly encrypted bands that his bonded had thrown himself into helping the refugees and wounded, as had the other Autobots who had not been part of the rescue and recovery. But Optimus assumed Mirage was devastated by the loss of his city and House.
What he found when he entered was Mirage, polished to a gleaming perfection, waiting for him with a cube of fuel with a yellowish tint revealing the rare sulfur additives that promoted relaxation. Optimus collapsed into his chair, so low on energy that he downed the entire cube in one long draught. When he began to apologize, Mirage hushed him and led him to the washracks where he murmured for Optimus to sit on the bench, then turned on the hot solvent and removed a large brush from the detailing kit.
"Mirage you don't need..."
"Please, my Prime. I do need to. Let me take care of you."
Optimus could not find it in himself to object as Mirage began scrubbing him from top to bottom, removing the remnants of the slagged city from his frame. After finishing with his outer armor, he felt Mirage start with the finer brushes to scrub every crevice and seam and joint. The high grade and additives made Optimus feel almost as though he were floating, and time passed in a dream-like state that seemed to have little to do with his internal chronometer. He only became aware that he had slipped into a light recharge when he felt large plates of his outer armor being removed, and Mirage gently turning his attention to the soot that had managed to make itself deep into the complex structures of his internal frame.
Feeling flooded back into his frame and all notion of dreamily floating vanished as his sensor net surged under Mirage's perfect attention. His bonding code roared to life, demanding connection as charge raced through him in response to the touches along his protoform. In a seamless movement he was suddenly standing, lifting Mirage to kiss him hard against the wall as the hot solvent poured over both of them. Prime's own panel had already slid aside, his spike fully pressurized and sensor nodes aching for contact.
Static-filled moans and encouraging croons enflamed Optimus further, not to mention Mirage's hands continuing to stroke the exposed conduits and nodes of his internal frame. His spike pushed against what he assumed would still be Mirage's closed panel, only to find his bonded's valve open and already slick and ready for him.
He did not know where he found the control to stop himself from fully sinking in with single thrust or frenetically pistoning his bonded's valve like he had the first time he had claimed him in the brig. Especially with Mirage urging him on, begging him, and transmitting frantic glyphs of taking and claiming. But he locked his limbs with only the tip of his spike surrounded by the white-hot sheath, and only when he felt Mirage's calipers begin to relax their urgent grip did he begin to slowly slide himself, inch by delicious inch into his lover's valve that was throbbing with charge. Mirage's moans echoed in the racks, and each new sensor nub and groove Prime reached made Mirage jerk and cry out in ecstasy. Finally, Prime's spike hit the deepest nodes and Mirage keened in overload.
Once Mirage's calipers had relaxed from their clenching overload spasms, Optimus began to slowly move, building the charge once again. He felt Mirage's valve adjust in much the same way the his state-of-the-art spike was able to, matching divot for nub, groove for ridge, holding his spike in a tight, perfect embrace as the sensor input raced through Prime's entire frame. Slowly, carefully he increased the speed and power of his movements until he was finally taking his bonded's valve with the intensity Mirage was begging for in sharp, rapid thrusts accompanied by his own grunts of passion. His optics and audials were filled with buzzing static as he pulled all the way back and slammed in three times, hard enough to create flashes of phantom light in his optics before his spike erupted, flooding Mirage's already searing valve with liquid charge to send his bonded over the edge as well.
Later, in their berth, after their sparks had renewed their claim on one another with the same intensity as their frames had earlier, they lay together, coronas still reaching out to intertwine in lazy caresses.
"You want to ask me about what you felt in the merge," Mirage said, his tone warm and inviting.
"I... yes," Prime admitted. "I was surprised... though I think I may understand."
"You want to know why I'm not devastated by the loss of my House, my city, and why I'm not upset that Xeon is gone," Mirage continued patiently, the question echoing through their still caressing sparks. "Optimus, you are my House and my Lord."
Mirage kissed him again, tenderly, without the earlier urgency, and then continued. "Everything that came before the first time we merged is like some sort of shadow functioning... like I was a talented drone that just happened to have a spark. I know I had sentience, because I was able to choose between my conflicted loyalty codes and rewrite the protocols until I could turn myself over to you. But the memories are like... factual reports. There is no emotion associated with any of it, save emptiness. For me, creation began when we merged the first time, and I fully onlined when we bonded. I mourn for the mecha of Crystal City the way I do for any others suffering in this war, but they are no more my kin and home than Megatron and Darkmount are. I feel relieved that my defection is not the reason for the attack, feel a sense of responsibility toward the survivors as fellow sentient mechs, but... there are no ties to them. There are no longer any ties to Xeon or Megatron either. Those loyalty codes are gone, forever. In a very real sense, you are my creator as well as my bonded."
There was really only one response possible in light of Mirage's words that were echoed by the flashes of emotion as their coronas continued to tangle. Optimus pulled his Consort closer so their sparks could sink into one another again and he could express his gratitude in the purest way possible.
Thank you for all of the reviews! It really helped me to keep the momentum going to finish this chapter, because smut-heavy chapters are second only to battle action in terms of difficulty for me to write. Don't worry, this isn't quite the end. One chapter plus an epilogue, I think, and then possible future sequels to deal with the Nemesis plot. Please review if you enjoyed! I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas.