Darkness and Lightning 07: Trading on Secrets
Thorn carefully folded his golden wings against his back in submission without overt fear before he pinged Axe's office, the true center of power among the Knights and the city, for a meeting he had politely requested.
It took a moment for the door to slide open. Blue optics fixed on Thorn's deep ruby, the black mech inside the office fixing his full attention on Thorn as the slender jet walked inside with the smooth glide that personified his nature.
Thorn bowed deeply to the true power behind the throne.
Axe steepled his fingers, regarding the jet for a moment. "You requested a meeting with me. For what purpose?"
"To propose a trade, Master Axe," Thorn spoke respectfully. "Intel for a special dispensation."
"Intel? Something that I don't already know about, in the Citadel?" Blue optics narrowed. "And what is this 'special dispensation' you're after?"
"I believe you are not aware of this intel, Master Axe," Thorn said differentially, opening himself up to being wrong. "I wish to have a pet, Master Axe."
A dark optic rim lifted. "You are aware that it is forbidden for Knights to keep pets, correct?"
"Yes, Master Axe," Thorn said evenly.
"It would have to be a very valuable piece if intel for me to grant you special dispensation to keep a pet," Axe continued, watching Thorn intently.
"I believe it is, Master Axe," the slender jet replied. "If I am wrong, you will withdraw the special dispensation and I will suffer for it."
The black triple changer nodded slowly. "If you are wrong, the penance will be very severe and any pet you possess will be taken from you. If you are correct, and this is something that I do not already know, then you make find and keep your pet."
"Agreed, Master Axe," Thorn steadied himself and quietly prayed he had read everyone correctly. "Your creation has bonded to his former pet, Drift."
It was not very often that Axe was taken by surprise. The last time anything had truly shocked him had been a long time ago. But this, this shocked him as nothing had in millennia.
Blue optics widened, fixing on Thorn with the intensity of a laser as Axe slowly rose to his feet, leaning on his desk. "What?"
Thorn shrank back slightly. "Wing is bonded to Drift, Master Axe."
"How do you know this, and are you certain of this information?" Blazing optics narrowed to thin slits as he felt a pressure against his own bond, Dai Atlas responding to his shock with a wordless question.
"I have watched, Master Axe. Wing reacts when Drift is injured as if it is on his own frame. He can find Drift without any comm. He knows when Drift is in trouble even when it's impossible to know." He explained, ready to go into specific events if it was demanded. "I have not seen their sparks, but there is no other explanation in the archives for what Wing knows to be happening."
Slowly, the bigger mech lowered himself back into his chair. He was a bonded mech himself, so he knew how a bond worked and what it could do. "This... I did not know." He chewed on that for a long moment, looking back over all the interactions he had witnessed between Drift and Wing. "You may have your pet. But, if this information proves to be false, the punishment will be severe."
"I understand, Master Axe," Thorn bowed deeply. "I will report the identity of my pet once I capture her."
Axe nodded absently. "Then go."
The roar rattled the Citadel, startling most of the mecha inside.
Dai Atlas had been going about business as usual, having finished the day's training session with Drift a couple of joors earlier. The Knight leader had managed to refrain from mauling the white mech this time. He had been on his way back to his quarters when he became aware of thoughts, mutterings, leaking through the bond he shared with his mate.
That was unusual. Normally Axe kept his thoughts shielded and to himself. Flaring his armor slightly, Dai Atlas listened in.
What he heard was "Wing", "Drift", and "bonded". That was enough to stop him in his tracks for an instant.
"Drift!" came out a bellow that sent every sane mech, and most of the insane ones, diving for the nearest hidey-hole. Just because they weren't the target didn't make it any safer to be caught by the giant on a rampage.
Knights scattered like turbo-mice, bolting for the nearest bit of cover. Optics peered out from every hiding place and from under anything a determined mech could squeeze under.
In a higher level of the Citadel's residence tower, Wing had been sprawled out next to Drift on their berth, watching his mate sleep and shifting restlessly, when he heard that roar. It startled him so much his turbines fired, sending right off the berth and almost right into the ceiling. Armor on end, he landed next to the berth, audial flares flat to the sides of his helm and optics as wide as they could go without shattering.
"Oh, slag," the dark jet whispered as his mate looked around blearily.
"Wha?" Drift looked up at him, trying to figure out just what had dragged him so abruptly from desperately needed recharge.
Wing's armor was slicked to his frame, nacelle pinions completely flattened, wings folded down so close the metal could be heard creaking. Wing wasn't just freaked out, he was terrified.
Spinning around, the dark jet pounced on his white mate, wrapping his arms tightly around Drift's frame. "Hold on tight!"
With the trust that came from their bond Drift wrapped his arms around his mate and did as he was told. Wing's state was enough to still his questions for the moment.
Wing's wings flared out, the dark jet taking off the moment Drift firmly had hold of him. Another armor-rattling bellow erupted from inside the Citadel, sending every airframe Knight who hadn't already gone into hiding airborne and scattering in every direction.
"Oh slag oh slag oh slag!" Clinging more tightly to Drift, Wing raced for the caverns as fast as he could go while carrying a passenger. He was making a beeline for the hideout Drift had found, and which Wing himself had started building in his free time.
Drift held on, silent as to not distract Wing as the dark jet darted through tunnels at full speed. He simply held on for dear life, now fully aware and ready to fight despite critically low energy levels and an interrupted defrag cycle.
Wing wasn't sure why, but Dai Atlas was beyond furious at Drift at something. What it was, he didn't know, but his instincts, honed by long exposure to Dai Atlas' temper, were telling him that if the Knight leader got anywhere near Drift, his mate was scrap.
"Almost there..." Wing drew in his wings as much as he could without crashing as the tunnels narrowed, now too small to admit a mech much larger than the jet himself, and cut into rock too hard for Dai Atlas' drill tank form to cut through. Fortunately, the blue mech had all but completely forgotten about his second alt mode.
Spotting their destination up ahead, Wing slowed down, not wanting to run into the doors he'd installed (and what fun that had been). Landing in front of them, he quickly keyed in the access code, slipping inside and locking the doors after them.
"We're here. Safe," he whispered to his mate, nuzzling the white helm and slowly loosening his grip on Drift.
"Where's ... here?" Drift asked as he worked to gather his wits after the harrowing flight. "And why?"
Wing purred softly. "This is the cavern you discovered, the one you said would work well as a hideout. I've... done some work on it since. There's not much here yet, but there's a berth where you can rest, and I've stashed some energon here, too." The dark jet's wings rattled. "As for the why... Dai Atlas is in a killing fury. I don't know why, but he's beyond enraged at you. If he had caught you, he would have killed you, and probably me as well."
Drift scowled, trying to think of what had happened. "Today actually went fairly well." Then he shrugged, and leaned against his mate, welcoming the warmth and support to stop him from swaying. "Not that sense ever had much to do with that mech's mood. He's crazier than Megs. How long until he calms down?"
"I'm honestly not sure." Wing helped Drift over to the berth he'd brought to the cavern, curling up with him. "I've never seen him this angry. It might take a while... But at least he can't reach us here."
Drift murmured a hum of acceptance, his systems already shutting back down as he snuggled close. Only half conscious, he reached around Wing's back to slide his fingers down Challenger of Ways' thick blade. ~We're strong enough to use them if need be.~
~We are,~ the dark jet crooned in response, curling himself around Drift and spreading a wing over him possessively. He knew they'd have to venture back to the Citadel eventually, but for now they were safe.
Wing could feel that Drift was stewing and had been for some time as they shared a careful ration more than two days later.
The dark jet tilted his helm at his mate. "There's something on your mind, I can tell."
"I know you aren't keen on the idea of leaving, but out there," he waved in the general direction of up," might be a good idea. That or taking out your creators."
Golden optics went wide. "Out? Leaving? But..." The dark jet left the city whenever he felt trapped by the overhanging stone ceiling, but never had he ever considered not coming back. Dark pinions flared as the second half of the comment registered. "Take them out? But... they're my creators! Yes, Dai Atlas is insane, but he's still my sire!"
Drift grumbled wordlessly before focusing on trying to use reason. "Being your creator is no excuse for taking abuse from him. You saw what I lived through, what existence can be. What shouldn't be accepted."
"He's family," Wing whispered. "Insane and violent as he is, he's family. I can't leave him. Nor can I do anything to get rid of him." Wide golden optics rose to fix on Drift's pale blue.
The white grounder x-vented deeply. "He's no different than Megatron."
"He raised me and he trained me," the dark jet responded. "This is his city. He's my sire." Wing trembled slightly at the thought of leaving his home city, or losing his creators, vicious as Dai Atlas could be.
"And when he kills me?" Drift looked up, his side of the bond unnaturally smooth about the prospect.
There was a long moment of silence. "I won't let him," Wing informed his mate fiercely. "But I can't kill him!"
A light caress of support crossed the bond. "I can. I have no problem killing him. If you permit me."
"No," Wing whispered, looking pleadingly into Drift's optics. "I can't. I just... can't." His dark-armored body trembled with distress.
"All right," Drift sighed deeply and reached over to draw Wing against him, nuzzling the dark helm. "Unless he's honestly trying to kill me, I won't try to kill him."
"Axe will keep him under control," Wing said with some certainty. He wasn't quite sure how, but Axe did manage to keep Dai Atlas from getting too out of hand. The dark jet leaned against his mate, turning off his optics and sighing softly.
"What about leaving?" Drift murmured. "You know it can be a good existence and I know what I'm doing, how to survive out there."
"Your ship was hauled in and stripped for the metal," Wing pointed out. Dark wings fluttered nervously. "I might leave the city to fly... But I always come back. To leave the planet entirely, even if there was a way..." He shivered at the very thought. Yet it also stung to feel the resigned disappointment and longing in Drift.
"Right," Drift murmured with a fresh wash of disappointment that was quickly squashed.
Wing clung to his mate, nuzzling against him. Leaving the city for a few joors, he could do. But he always came home. Leaving the city forever was not something he wanted to contemplate.
"I guess I found something that scares you," Drift said softly, somehow not really proud of the accomplishment.
"For a mech who's never even contemplated leaving home for good, yes, the thought is terrifying." Somehow Wing managed to slip under Drift's arm and settle against his side.
"For a mech who's home has only ever been another mech, it's not easy to understand," Drift admitted, his field welcoming Wing close.
They both jumped, swords drawn, when a heavy knock echoed from the door.
"Who is there?" Wing demanded, sidling toward the door with both plasma swords drawn and activated. He had a good idea of who it couldn't be, as they couldn't fit into the tunnels. But that still left a long list of who it could be.
The dark jet edged over to a monitor beside the door, connected to a small camera outside of the door, and looked at the image on the display.
The soft glow of red lines on a black frame liberally decorated with gold and a silver face looked back as the intruder called out. "It's Thorn. Open up."
Wing debated for a moment, then cautiously opened the door. One swordblade poked out before Thorn could move, Wing checking the tunnels for any other mechs before withdrawing his blade. As soon as Thorn was inside, the door was shut and locked.
"Paranoid much?" the tall Knight raised an optic ridge at him.
"Only when there's reason to be," Wing replied, walking back over to Drift and leaning against the white grounder's shoulder. "Why are you here?"
"Seems this little den of yours blocks comms," Thorn glowered. "So Axe charged me to track you down and tell you to get your aft back to the Citadel and explain things to him."
"With Dai Atlas howling for Drift's energon?" Wing bristled. "What's he so angry about? What did Drift do - or what does Dai Atlas think he did - to make him that enraged?"
"Dai Atlas hasn't been howling for most of a day. Just don't ask how Axe got him to settle down. I have no clue," golden veined wings fluttered. "Something about bonding without permission."
Drift groaned from the berth.
Dark wings and pinions stood on end, reflecting Wing's shock. "Bonding? What the slag has he been into this time? Has he gotten into your assorted potions?"
Scrambling to get his mental feet back under him, Wing went with the simplest of deflection tactics: playing dumb.
Thorn shook his helm. "Axe saw the same things I did, and I doubt it's just us," he said quietly. "Your creators aren't the only bonded mecha in the order."
Across their bond, Wing felt Drift's panic bloom, right along with fear. On the jet trails of that came a grim, violent determination.
Wing bristled, flaring his wings. "I won't let them hurt him." He moved to place himself between Thorn and Drift, glaring at the taller mech.
"Axe isn't asking for him to show up and explain," Thorn x-vented. "It's your wings you need to be worried about right now."
The smaller jet's optics narrowed as he considered that. Then he vented heavily, pinions lowering closer to his nacelles. "If I don't go, he'll probably send someone to drag me back." Golden optics turned to Drift. "I have to go face Axe...You'll be safe here. No one else knows where this place is."
Drift's engine rumbled as the bond flooded with a wordless threat to any mecha who brought harm to Wing. That loyalty and protectiveness didn't go one way.
"They won't find out from me," Thorn added voluntarily, motioning for Wing to open the door. "Want me to stay?"
"Think you can keep your distance from my bondmate?" Wing countered, narrowing his optics at Thorn.
Deep red optics rolled in exasperation. "In case you hadn't noticed, I happen to like my wings attached to my frame."
"And his spark attached to his frame," Drift added with a quirk of a grin that wasn't at all comforting to anyone but Wing.
After a moment Wing's gaze moved to Drift. "Would you want him to stay here with you?"
"Not really," Drift shrugged a spaulder. "I'm good with waiting alone."
The dark jet leaned over to rub his cheek against Drift's, letting out a soft purr, before going to open the door and gesture for Thorn to leave.
~I'll be back as soon as I can,~ Wing promised through the bond.
~You'd better come back soon, and in one piece,~ Drift grabbed his helm to claim a fierce kiss before letting Wing go.
~I will do my best,~ Wing purred, returning the kiss before following Thorn out and locking the door behind him.
Once the tunnels were wide enough for Wing to spread his wings all the way, he lifted off, flying through the tunnels out into the city cavern, toward the Citadel.
::So you really are bonded?:: Thorn asked.
::Yes,:: Wing responded, not at all happy about having to admit something he'd been keeping secret for the better part of a vorn.
There was a bit of silence as Thorn processed that.
::Why?:: he finally asked. ::When?::
::Since a decaorn after I brought him into the city,:: was the response. ::His spark resonates perfectly with mine. That's what drew me to him, and him to me. My spark all but crawled out of its casing to meet his.::
::Wow,:: was about all Thorn could respond with. His processor was still spinning when they landed. As much as he didn't want to miss out on the conversation to come, he wasn't keen on being near Axe again soon either.
Wing flared out his armor, shaking his wings before folding them tightly to his back. Steeling himself, he opened a comm line to Axe, wondering where the large black triple changer was.
::My office,:: came the blunt reply.
Wing didn't need to know what the subject was to know his saner creator was not happy in a very big way.
::Coming.:: Wing took a moment to steel his nerves, then made his way to his creator's office, wings folded so tightly they ached.
Slowly, the dark jet made his way to Axe's office. He hesitated outside for a moment, then chimed for admittance. The door slid open, revealing Axe and his sharp blue gaze and his silent motion to enter.
Wing entered the office, hearing the door hiss shut behind him. Golden optics met sharp blue, the dark jet keeping back far enough to give himself a chance to get away of Axe went for him.
"Well?" Axe locked his gaze on his young creation. "You know why you were called here."
"I have a good idea," Wing agreed, shifting his pedes. "Drift. Bonded."
"When?" Axe prompted, keeping a grip on his emotions as tight as a black hole did on matter.
Wing shifted again, his wings riffling nervously against his back plating. "Since a decaorn after I brought him back from the surface." He sucked in a draught of air and shrank back at the way his creator's self-control shattered and the black giant puffed up. "It wasn't exactly planned." He tried to calm Axe with debatable results.
"How in the Pit did you bond without planning it?"
The dark jet pressed his back against the wall, his armor slicked down. "Drift and I... We have perfect spark resonance. It was only meant to be a spark merge. But our sparks had other ideas, and they overruled anything our processors had to say on the matter."
"I'm bonded, remember?" Axe growled, his optics flashing. "It doesn't work like that. Did he force you?"
"No, he did not force me," Wing replied. "My spark wanted it. It almost crawled right out of its casing to reach Drift's."
Fingers steepled before Axe's face. "If it is indeed spark resonance, Redline can confirm it."
"True." Wing's optics narrowed. "Drift won't be harmed if he returns to the Citadel?" He wasn't going to bring Drift back unless he was sure his mate would not be harmed by anyone.
"If this is indeed spark resonance to the extent that you say, you have my word," Axe went further than Wing had ever expected. "Drift will suffer no harm for this event. Even Knights are subject to the will of Primus."
Wing all but sagged in relief. "Thank you," he murmured. ~Lover of mine?~
~You seem ... relieved.~ Drift responded cautiously.
"However," Axe's hard tone made Wing freeze. "If I learn that you have not spoken the full truth, you will both be punished most severely."
Wing cringed, but nodded. ~Axe says that if Redline can prove that we do have spark resonance, then you won't be harmed.~
"I understand," the dark jet replied aloud.
~And you won't be either?~ Drift pressed.
~That...he didn't say much about,~ Wing admitted. ~It could go either way.~ One wing shifted against his back.
"Is there anything you wish to add in your defense?" Axe asked, his optics still narrow and turbulent.
"If Redline confirms that Drift and I are spark resonants, Drift won't be harmed... What about me?" Wing dared ask, easing closer to the door just in case. "We weren't intending to bond, but it happened and that can't be changed."
"You did not report your condition, even to Redline," Axe growled softly. "Drift, at the time, was your property. Nothing was expected of him. You," he glared at his creation, "you knew better. You have a price to pay for your deceit."
Wing pulled his helm as far down as he could, hunching his shoulders. The dark jet nodded, looking down at the floor. "I apologize... and I accept my punishment." He just hoped it wouldn't require him to spend four orns being repaired.
~I will have to undergo a penance for failing to report the bond,~ he reluctantly admitted to Drift. ~It's you I'm more worried about. I don't want you hurt.~
~Is Axe good for his word?~ Drift pressed, pissed but accepting of a penance for the failure. That, at least, was a standard he knew from before.
~He is,~ Wing confirmed. ~Once Redline confirms that we do have spark resonance, no one will harm you.~ He sent assurance and love along the bond.
~Then I'm coming in,~ Drift said firmly. ~Let's get this over with.~
~I'll be waiting for you,~ Wing replied, then blinked to refocus and looked back to Axe. "Drift is on his way."
"Good," Axe considered his wayward creation with a glower, only to soften with a deep sigh. "Has he been good to you?"
"He has," the dark jet answered. "Very good." There was a hint of a purr in his voice for a moment.
"Even since he began training?" Axe prodded. "A bond that old can't be broken, but there are ways to mitigate the effects."
"When he's conscious enough, anyway," Wing replied. "He does make a nice pillow to cuddle up against. But yes, even then."
"Have you learned how to block each other out yet?" Axe rubbed a spot between his optics above his nasal ridge.
"Yes. He and I both block the bond while he's in training with you and Dai Atlas, to keep from distracting each other. It became necessary after the first few times he ended up in Redline's medbay." Wing's wings flared out at the memory.
Axe hummed, a soft harmonic of approval. "Your training was no kinder."
"Of that I'm aware," Wing responded. He tilted his helm, tuning into the bond, optics going slightly out of focus. ~I'm in Axe's office, love.~
"We will meet him in Redline's office," Axe said as he rose and motioned Wing to follow.
~We're heading to the medbay, come meet us there,~ Wing relayed to Drift, adding a mental caress and a purr. Then he obediently followed Axe out of the office, keeping just out of grabbing range. No matter how gentle his creator was behaving, which in itself was odd, this was still Master Axe and a mecha to be feared.
A sense of confirmation came back from Drift before the walk descended into silence to the medical wing of the Citadel of Shadow.
One thing Wing had learned about Axe was that the black mech was not a gentle mech by any stretch of the imagination. Wing wasn't sure why he was acting that way now, but he kept one optic on his creator just in case.
In the medical wing, Redline poked his helm out of his office as they entered, a scowl on his face. The expression evaporated when he saw who had entered his domain, and the medic emerged from the office.
"It seems my creation has bonded," Axe tried not to growl as he motioned at the small black jet. "He is claiming spark resonance."
Wing eased around his creator, keeping warily out of reach, and approached the medic. Redline eyed him for a moment. "I'm assuming he's bonded to that white grounder, Drift."
"I am." Wing raised his helm proudly.
Redline harrumphed. "Well, we'll soon know for sure if there is spark resonance or not. Where is Drift?"
"Here," said mech's deep rumble cut through the tension with his customary lack of fear.
Wing perked up visibly, his optics brightening as he turned to his mate. Redline glowered at both of them, then waved them toward the med tables.
"On the tables," the medic growled. "I'm going to have to run scans on your sparks to find out if you actually do have spark resonance."
The pair complied without question, though now that the secret was out, Drift took the opening to caress his mate before they separated. Wing chirred in response, leaning in for a quick nuzzle before a low growl from either Redline or Axe got him moving, hopping onto one of the tables. Dark wings shifted. Wing hated having to crack his chest armor for medical exams at the best of times, and this was not the best of times.
Axe watched, glowering, but held quiet and still, out of the way.
Redline walked over, readying his equipment before turning his scowl onto Wing. The dark jet gave him a matching glower, then reluctantly parted his chestplates to reveal his spark, clearly bearing a darker red tint. The medic made careful note of the color as he ran the scans, comparing them from memory to previous times. Then he turned to Drift, who was less reluctant to part his armor, but in this moment seemed far more dangerous. While Redline didn't have any untainted scans of Drift's spark energy, he could extrapolate it easily enough.
"Have you bonded before?" Redline focused on Drift, who shook his helm and closed his chest armor, once more concealing the deep red-orange spark.
Redline looked from one to the other, then hooked his scanners up to the medical computer and began evaluating the results. After the better part of a breem looking over the data, the red and white medic grunted, stepping aside and looking over at Axe.
"There is the answer, Master Axe. They do have spark resonance, and it's closer resonance than anything I've ever seen before." Redline waved to the information on the screen.
"And this could not be the result of the bond?" the black giant asked as he studied the readouts. Even with his limited knowledge he could see the near-perfect harmonic between the two readings.
Redline shook his helm. He brought up another set of data, comparing it to Wing's current readings. "Wing's spark readings were the same before he and Drift bonded. This scan was taken two vorns ago, well before Drift came."
Axe huffed, grumbled wordlessly and glared at the pair before focusing on Redline. "Do whatever you need to in order to ensure they don't kindle by accident."
The medic nodded to the black triple changer. "It will be done."
"Wing, you will report to me for your penance when Redline is done with you. Drift, you will report to me for your penance for missing your training," Axe glared at the pair.
Wing nodded, folding his wings tighter to his back. He was not looking forward to it, but it had to be done. Across the bond Drift tried to sooth him even as he inclined his helm towards Axe in acceptance of his own orders.
Redline headed for a side chamber to retrieve some equipment, then headed for the table Wing occupied.
"I was under the impression that kindling required intent," Drift watched the medic sharply as Axe left.
"There have been cases where a spark was accidentally created," Redline responded, not looking up from what he was doing in Wing's chest. The dark jet's wings were squirming, though otherwise he remained still. He hated having the medic poking around in there. "Given your story is that the bond wasn't intentional, it does increase the odds of something else unintentional happening."
Drift fell silent, watching what was happening to Wing and offering silent support to his mate. "What are you doing?"
"Installing a regulator that will prevent a newspark from forming," Redline answered absently, able to lie about the exact mechanism smoothly after so long. He'd been installing them under orders often enough. He paused and glared down at the black jet. "Will you stop twitching?"
Wing glared. "You're poking around in my chest. How can I not twitch?" he shot back.
Armor flared with a low rumble and Redline reached up to drop Wing into stasis without warning. "He's fine," he snarled at Drift without looking at the Knight Initiate. He didn't have to look to know the white grounder was about to launch himself. "I can beat you to a puddle of fluids too, you know."
Drift growled at him but held still.
Redline gave silent thanks to whatever medic had trained him to behave and finished working on Wing before letting him out of stasis.
As soon as he was out of stasis Wing was off the table and with his armor closed. He glared daggers at the medic. "You know how much I hate it when you do that."
"Live with it," Redline snapped at him, turning toward Drift. The grounder glared but settled and obediently opened his chest to be worked on.
Unlike Wing, however, Drift knew how to be still and pay attention to what was happening after so many vorns under Decepticon medical care. You simply didn't let Hook work on you unsupervised, and you were the only one worth trusting to do the supervising.
Despite Axe's orders, Wing remained in the medbay waiting for Redline to finish with Drift. He glared at the medic's back the whole time, though Redline ignored him completely. Once the red and white was finished, the dark jet edged over to his mate, reaching out to take his hand. He was promptly pulled onto the berth and against his mate for a kiss that made his insides steam.
Wing purred, nuzzling into him, returning the kiss with equal heat. For a blissful moment he completely forgot that he was supposed to report to Axe, all but melting against Drift's armor.
Redline made a disgusted sound, glaring at both of them.
And was completely ignored as Drift's hands found black wings and his glossa pressed into Wing's mouth. Dark wings slowly flared out under Drift's hands, exposing the sensitive surfaces and the joints, as well as the sensitive metal under the wings. Wing chirred, his glossa dueling playfully with Drift's for a moment. The jet's hands slid up to tease a sensor cluster in a white spaulder and hook into a side seam.
A heavy wrench was flung with deadly accuracy, connecting with the back of Wing's helm with a heavy clang.
Wing squawked in surprise, falling right off the berth and landing in a heap on the floor. It took him a moment to get his limbs untangled and get back to his pedes, reaching up to touch the new dent on the back of his helm. Turning, he gave Redline a withering stare. The medic, however, was completely unfazed by it.
It wasn't helping that Drift was laughing. Hard.
"Enough you two," Redline growled at them. "Out."
"I don't suppose you knew a medic that goes by Ratchet?" Drift was still snickering as he slid off the berth and wrapped himself around Wing.
"No," was the brusque reply as the medic continued to glare at them, another wrench in hand.
Wing made a rude noise in Redline's direction, guiding Drift toward the door. As soon as it closed, Drift's hands were on his wings once more, and his mouth was on the jet's neck. Wing trill-purred, stumbling backward until his back hit the wall, wings stretching into Drift's hands, helm falling back to give his mate more room. He wrapped his arms around the white frame, fingers stroking along Drift's backplates, sliding along the seams.
~Probably our last bit of fun for a while,~ Drift rumbled, pressing his entire frame against Wing's and rubbing.
~Most likely,~ Wing moaned in response, pressing dark plating against white. His hands glided over Drift's back, wings pressing into his mate's strong hands, tilting his helm to rub his cheek against his mate's. He moaned when one hand slid between them to rub his valve cover, not so quietly asking for admittance.
The dark jet purred, his valve cover eagerly snapping open. Lubricants were already dribbling out, a drop running down Drift's finger. Wing lifted his leg, curling it around Drift's hip, pulling his mate closer. They moaned in unison as Drift's spike cover snapped open and he extended directly into that ever-ready and eager valve.
~Mine, forever,~ Drift shuddered as he thrust. ~Nothing will part us for long.~
~Always yours,~ Wing responded, wrapping his arms around his mate and leaning close to deliver a fiery kiss. Agreement flowed along the bond at the second statement as Wing rolled his hips against Drift's and pleasure exploded across both their neural networks. Moans were swallowed by the other as Drift set a savage pace, knowing they didn't have long if they didn't want to anger Axe, who for unknown reasons was being mellow about this whole mess.
The dark jet's hips matched the pace Drift set, his hands going for the most sensitive places he knew of on the white mech's frame. Fingers slipped into seams to tug and stroke the circuitry, sliding in deeper to reach the more sensitive wiring underneath. Pleasure washed through the bond, echoing back and forth between them, driving their charge higher with all the abandon they were already renowned for.
Drift growled and bit down on an energon line, drawing a tiny trickle that he lapped up. Neither of them resisted the overload as it began to wash through them, spiraling up from their joined frames to crackle over armor and draw muted roars from them both.
Wing buried his face against his mate's helm to muffle his high keen of release. His body stiffened against Drift's, back arching to thrust his hips down and take Drift's spike in as deep as it could go. Excess charge sizzled and snapped across his plating, leaping off onto Drift and lashing at the wall.
It was all Drift could do to not crush his mate in his arms, relief and renewal of their commitment, their mutual addiction, their need to be close and stay.
As fast as it came, the rush faded, leaving them both feeling content against the other's armor.
Wing purred contentedly against Drift's armor, snuggling as close as he could and resting his helm against a white shoulder. He stayed there, not moving, until something caught his attention.
Farther down the corridor stood another mech, a red airframe a bit shorter than Axe was, his silver helm crest spanning nearly the width of his shoulders. The red mech gave the couple an amused look, then turned and casually strolled away.
~How much trouble is this Shogun?~ Drift whispered across their bond, reluctantly drawing his spike into its housing but not yet releasing his mate.
~Sane and fairly honorable,~ Wing replied, a shiver running through his body as Drift withdrew his spike. ~Axe hates him, but Shogun is smart enough to toe the line without giving Axe or Dai Atlas any reason to turn on him.~
~Axe probably hates him because he's smart,~ Drift chuckled, nuzzling Wing's face up for a long, warm kiss. ~Nothing more dangerous to a psychopathic leader than sane, smart leadership potential.~
~Were anything to happen to Dai Atlas or Axe, Shogun would be one of the major candidates to take over the Circle,~ Wing agreed, trilling into the kiss. ~And that's very likely. Axe is always looking for a reason to take Shogun down, but Shogun never gives him any opportunities.~
Drift hummed and gradually disengaged from Wing's frame enough to walk. ~Who are the others?~
~There are four or five others who have the training and experience to take control of the Circle.~ Images and names and everything Wing knew about the mechs in question flickered through the bond. ~Though I doubt anyone would ever want Lightstrike anywhere near the position of Order Master.~
Venting heavily, Wing reluctantly peeled himself away from Drift, twining his fingers with his mate's. ~We'd better get going before Axe comes looking.~
~At least he doesn't seem that angry,~ Drift murmured, trying to support his mate while he could. Soon they would have to block the bond for their own protection. A penance was not something to be feeling across the bond. Not when they had to focus on other things.
~And that's making me a little uneasy,~ Wing admitted. ~One thing Axe has never been is easy-going. I'm not sure what he's up to this time, and that worries me.~ He leaned against Drift's shoulder, taking some comfort from his mate's presence.
~Maybe he's actually being a little bit of a creator,~ Drift willingly supplied the support. ~I'm been told it's kinda a bit deal to have your creation bond.~
~Maybe,~ Wing commented after a thoughtful moment. He fidgeted ever so slightly as they entered the section of the Citadel where Axe's office was. Drift squeezed his hand and leaned over to kiss his cheek before they separated, only for Drift to hesitate. ~Should we clean up?~ he motioned to their groins.
Wing looked down at the lubricant and transfluid streaking his inner thighs. ~I think we'd better,~ he agreed, his audial fins flaring a bit.
A low chuckle escaped Drift as he nudged Wing towards the wall and pulled a rag from his subspace.
Wing leaned against the wall, watching his mate with a purring chuckle. He tilted one leg to present the fluid-streaked inner surface and relaxed into the enjoyment of seeing Drift knelt before him, wiping the evidence of their passion from his frame, only to trail each cleaning swipe with a line of kissing licks.
The dark jet purred, reaching down to fondle Drift's audial finials, trailing his fingers from the curve of his mate's forehelm right up to the sharp tips, kneading and stroking the white metal. The arousal it caused was expected, and fair play for the pleasurable torment Drift was causing him in cleaning him up.
They were both revved up, their bond humming with pleasure-desire-need by the time they were presentable. Only the threat of Axe coming to find them was enough to keep them from going at it again.
"Need to get the penance over with," Drift mumbled, forcefully pulling himself away from his mate.
Wing let out a low whine of protest, reluctantly letting go of Drift's helm. "Yes... Making Axe wait too long would make things worse."
They took a moment to get their frames under control before taking the rest of the walk to the office. Wing pinged it and the door slid open, revealing the sparse office of his black creator.
Sharp blue optics locked on the pair, giving them no doubt that Axe knew what they had done.
Wing squirmed slightly under Axe's gaze, not meeting the blue optics. Armor plates flared and settled nervously. Next to him Drift was physically less unsettled, still not afraid of Axe, or even Dai Atlas, yet he was afraid for Wing because Wing was afraid of what was coming.
"Wing, what role did you play in Drift's absence?" Axe demanded quietly.
"When I heard Dai Atlas bellowing at Drift, heard just what kind of rage he was in, I flew Drift out of the Citadel and into the tunnels," Wing answered, looking at the floor. "Every instinct was telling me that if Dai Atlas caught Drift, he would kill him."
"An accurate assessment," Axe acknowledged, for once ignoring the flare of white armor that spoke as clearly as words that Drift had other intentions if that meeting happened. "He does not believe Drift is good enough for you, among other things. You did not keep tabs on when I got him under control."
Wing squirmed. "I was completely intent on not allowing Dai Atlas to find us. And the caves in that area block comm signals. That was an effect I was unaware of until Thorn found us." ~You were out cold, my love ... Dai Atlas would have skewered you to the berth before you woke up enough to fight back.~
Drift grumbled at him silently but didn't contest the statement.
Axe shifted his attention to Drift. "Drift, your penance will be a meditative binding in gold."
Wing blinked several times, his wings fluttering. Gold, for loyalty. The dark jet shifted, but didn't say anything, staring at his creator in surprise. Drift merely inclined his helm in acceptance. It wasn't what he'd been expecting either, but he wasn't about to complain about missing out on a severe beating.
Axe took in the reactions before pinning Wing with his optics. "You will also have a binding penance, after you see to Drift's. Yours is pink."
The dark jet's optics widened as he looked at the bigger black mech. "Pink?" It was the color that signified loss.
"Yes," Axe steepled his fingers and focused on his creation. "Loss, and the fear of it, has driven far too much of your behavior lately. I accept that the spark resonance is much of the cause. That does not excuse allowing it to interfere with your duties. You are still a full Knight of Shadow, the bearer of a Great Sword. Allowing a bond to interfere with your duties is unacceptable."
Wing drooped a bit, nodding. "I understand." He looked briefly at Drift, then back to Axe. "It will be done."
"Drift will see to yours," Axe told them both. "I will see to Dai Atlas being over this before he spars with Drift again," he dismissed them.
Wing nodded, reaching for his mate's hand and tugging the white mech out of the office. The dark jet turned down the corridor in the direction of the penance chambers in the lower levels. ~The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to our quarters.~
~And the sooner they'll start working me to exhaustion again,~ Drift grumbled silently, though he followed without resistance. ~How long are you likely to be under?~
~It varies,~ Wing admitted. ~Sometimes it lasts a few joors, other times it can last orns. I can never tell.~
~I'll be there when you're done,~ Drift promised, the bond muting slightly. It was just enough that he could do anything required of him while still catching most of what was happening to his mate.
Wing leaned in for a nuzzle, purring warmly, as he led his mate toward one of the penance rooms. ~Me first, or you?~
~Axe said mine was first. No reason to piss him off when he's going kind,~ Drift drew in a deep breath and took Too Pure For This World from his back and settled it on the vertical hooks. He turned and offered his wrists to Wing, ready to be bound.
~True.~ Wing turned to the wall cabinet, reaching inside for the gold cord. He quickly and neatly bound Drift's wrists, creating an intricate interlacing of cord over the white armor. He couldn't help but notice that the gold against white, and a bound Drift, looked good in all the wrong ways for the moment.
~Later, lover,~ Drift chuckled before going serious as he knelt in front of his Great Sword, its warmth pulsing against his back as he lifted his bound wrists up and back to hook around the pommel. As little training as he had, it still only took a matter of kliks for him to sink fully into the half-trace of a meditative penance, fully in the grip of his past and his Great Sword.
Wing chirred softly, a quick flicker of a mental image of Drift wearing a gold collar with Wing's name on it leaking through the bond before being quickly suppressed. The dark jet settled nearly, curling into a loose ball of dark armor to wait, his golden optics fixed on his mate. Across the dimmed but not closed off bond he felt Drift sink into the meditative penance, felt Drift's Great Sword surge into the link as it was called on to draw everything out of Drift that was needed.
Despite all his experience, Wing found himself lost by the turmoil in his mate's processor and how completely at odds it was with the deep red spark.
With a silent sigh Wing settled down for a long observation. This wouldn't be a quick one.
Wing hadn't moved much during the time his mate was in trance, staying where he was and keeping watch. Golden optics remained on Drift, waiting patiently for Drift to return to awareness.
Sensing that the white mech was stirring, preparing to come out of his trance state, Wing moved for the first time in joors, stretching and sitting up. One hand hovered just above white armor.
~Yes,~ Drift slurred across their bond, more sensation than word. His optics weren't on yet, his frame nearly too stiff to move himself, hands were more gray than black from lack of energon. Drift and loyalty had a long and troubled relationship that wasn't anywhere close to over.
The dark jet lightly touched white armor, leaning forward to lightly brush the nasal of his helm against Drift's. Wing reached up, trailing his fingers along Drift's arm to the gold cords that bound him, untying the knot. He caught Drift as the white grounder crumpled, wrapping his arms around his mate and holding him close. Chirring softly, the dark jet nuzzled against white armor, catching one of the cold, grayed hands and kneading it gently to encourage the interrupted flow of energon to resume.
Slowly, painfully, Drift came back fully to his frame and awareness of his surroundings and began to systematically bring his systems to heel to his will once more.
Wing would be lying if he didn't say that the wash of love-thanks-affection that crossed the bond and their fields didn't feel incredibly good.
Chirr deepened to a vibrating purr, Wing seeming to do his very best to wind himself around Drift like a secondary layer of armor. Tilting his helm, he nuzzled in to brush his lips lightly over Drift's, his glossa darting out to flick against Drift's lower lip. They parted without hesitation, offering a compliant mouth to the dark jet as Drift hummed his contentment. Yet there was little answering desire in Drift's frame. A willingness, but no heat.
The kiss was light, gentle, in response. Wing curled around Drift as much as he could, holding the white mech close, kneading one grayed hand until it began to warm and darken in his hands with returning energon flow. Drift was flexing the other, curling it into a fist and stretching it out fully as he snuggled against his mate. He'd truly forgotten how much a binding penance took out of him. The beatings were far easier. He didn't have to think, merely endure, and enduring pain and damage was something he had long excelled at.
Wing himself preferred the binding over the beating... It didn't end with him in the medbay requiring joors of repair, but he had been raised with it and was long used to it. It had been part of his upbringing since before he'd become an Initiate.
Purring, radiating support, he rested his helm against his mate's, dimming his optics, simply being there for him.
There was a soft scrape of armor against armor as Wing stirred. Not his restless shifting this time, or the distressed flaring of dark wings. The dark jet was finally coming out of trance after a long, brutal meditative trance. For Drift, it was not soon enough. Just shy of three orns, he was beyond twitchy at being locked in this room with an unresponsive and intensely distressed mate he wasn't permitted to touch.
Before he was even aware he'd moved, Drift's had a small energon blade in hand and was hovering just shy of touching, ready to cut the cord the moment Wing consented.
Bleary gold optics fixed on the blade. Wing nodded, waiting for the cord to be cut from limp, numb wrists. As soon as he was free, he slumped forward, unable to catch himself. Drift was ready for him, catching and supporting him easily.
While he didn't say anything, the mingling of their fields and the soft cooing rumble spoke volumes of Drift's distress even as he did all he could to comfort and support his mate.
Wing buried his face against Drift's chest, burrowing as close to white armor as he could possibly get. The dark jet was making a soft, distressed chirp sound, doing his very best to physically merge with Drift's armor.
Around the fraying edges of the block on their bond the distress was even more intense when Drift nudged at it, then pressed harder, trying to break the block completely. He knew he was the subject of the binding, even if it was technically about loss.
Wing whimpered, curling into a tight ball in Drift's lap. The shield blocking the bond was fraying even more, the dark jet reaching out for his mate, entwining his thoughts with Drift's and clinging to the rock solid support there that promised things would be all right no matter what.
Slowly, slowly, Wing began to relax. Though his tight grip on Drift did not budge. Armor panels slicked tight against Wing's frame began to loosen, his pinions slowly rising from where they'd been flattened to his nacelles hard enough to leave faint dents. The rattle of the dark jet's trembling began to fade.
With a gentle pressure, Drift began to stroke his mate's back and along still-tightly folded wings, trying to sooth despite having little understanding of what might work.
Drift's mere presence was a comfort to the badly rattled mech. Tightly-folded wings loosened under the white mech's hands, Wing's distressed clicking easing off. He was still pressed tightly against his mate's armor and didn't show any intention of letting go anytime soon, not that Drift was inclined to try and make him move. He was entirely too happy to have the opportunity to hold him while conscious, even if he was less than thrilled with the circumstances.