Darkness and Lightning 14: An Obsession Gone Wrong
Thorn moved through the tunnels near where Wing and Drift were now apparently living, pondering the mystery that the pair had become. First Drift hadn't been seen for the better part of a vorn. Then he and Wing hadn't been seen in the Citadel together for a good couple decaorns. Now both of them were back in the Citadel, but only for their duties and they were still living out in the caves.
They were hiding something, Thorn was sure of it. No one stayed in the middle of nowhere for seventeen vorns if they weren't. And he wanted to know what it was.
The scrabble of small, sharp claws against stone made him freeze, trying to pinpoint the source. It was up ahead, coming down the corridor fast. Further back was the heavier thud of a larger frame, also on the run.
The black jet's optics narrowed as he moved slowly in the direction from which the sounds were coming from, curiosity getting the better of him. Thorn peered into the darkness ahead, seeing nothing but an upcoming bend in the tunnel.
Two pinpricks of red rocketed around the corner, colliding with him with a squeak of surprise and distress, knocking it back and dazing the little thing.
Thorn stopped, frowning down at the little whatever it was that had run straight into his legs. It took him a moment to realize that he was looking at a sparkling, and his CPU tripped momentarily.
What was a sparkling doing here? There were none in the Citadel, and he hadn't even seen one in the city for some time. Certainly not one who looked like this. Frowning, Thorn bent to pick up the sparkling, holding it up for a better look.
Lanky with slender wing struts and only the lightest of armor over her chest; she couldn't be more than twenty vorns old. She wasn't even flight worthy yet, despite being an airframe. A very, very fast airframe.
Tiny, deep red optics flared as she recalibrated her processors from the rattling impact had created and looked up at Thorn. An unholy shriek of panic came from her vocalizer as she began to struggle, a sound that triggered protective protocols even in Thorn, and could send her creator into a protective fury.
Thorn held the sparkling close to keep her from getting away, still looking her over. Who could this small creature belong to, and why was she running through the tunnels?
The heavy thud of an approaching adult made him look up just in time to see Drift charge around the corner, both short swords drawn, ready to fight for the sparkling crying for help. Only the heavy grounder froze when he saw Thorn holding her.
Thorn blinked at Drift for a moment, his deep red gaze moving from the grounder to the sparkling in his arms and back. Drift could almost see the gears turning in Thorn's helm.
"Is there some reason you're chasing a sparkling through the tunnels?" Thorn asked finally, optics narrowing at Drift, a germ of suspicion taking form.
"I'm taking care of her," Drift said, stalking forward and sheathing his blades, a look that promised a very painful deactivation on his features for refusing. "Hand her over."
Thorn raised an optic rim. "You, taking care of a sparkling? I can't see you as a caretaker, especially not out of the goodness of your spark. Who is she to you?" The black jet kept one optic on the sparkling, interested in how she would react to the grounder's approach. His suspicions rose sharply when she quieted at Drift's first word and began to relax. Drift wasn't just taking care of her for the day. He was safety to her when Thorn was a threat.
"None of your business," Drift growled, low and dangerous as he stepped within range for their fields to touch.
That, the snapping sharpness converted from protective fear. Thorn knew that well.
Drift was her creator.
Thorn's optics widened, then narrowed, glittering. "I see," the tall black jet purred. "She's yours. And Wing's, as well, I would bet. Which one of you was the carrier?"
Wing's presence stirred through the bond he and Drift shared as the grounder's emotions leaked through. The jet prodded at Drift, wondering what was wrong.
~Thorn is holding Starcrossed, and he knows,~ Drift tried not to tremble in his effort to restrain instincts screaming at him to kill the black Knight.
A spike of alarm resounded through the bond. Wing was already looking for a way to drop what he was doing and bolt back to his mate.
Thorn was almost vibrating with glee. Now he knew why Wing and Drift were living outside the Citadel. They had a sparkling, a jetling, and were raising her in secret, where no one else could see her.
What to do with this particular piece of information...
"Give her to me," Drift's features twisted into a snarl that had sent many a Decepticon scrambling for cover when he'd been one of them.
Starcrossed reacted to the distress across both creator bonds by squirming, digging sharp, slender claws into the strong hands holding her and biting anything she could get close to. She had no fear of the fall, but anything her creators both feared was something to escape from.
Thorn was unfazed by the snarl, shifting his grip on Starcrossed to keep her from getting away. He ignored the biting and the clawing. "Why should I? There's nothing stopping me from taking her back to the Citadel and showing her to Master Axe."
"They would kill all three of us," Drift said pointed out simply. Thorn did say that much truth, Drift couldn't stop him if he took off. "Possibly all four of us, given convincing Dai Atlas you didn't know from the beginning could be tough."
Drift had a point, though Thorn was not going to say that. His deep ruby optics glittered at the shorter grounder. "What's it worth to you for me not to tell anyone?" the jet purred after a moment, letting his gaze wander over Drift's frame. The grounder had been intriguing before, in his white armor, and was even more so now.
~I can't get away,~ Wing keened in distress. ~You have to stop him from getting away with her.~
~I know. I'll deal with it,~ Drift promised as he focused on the mech who had been trying to 'face him since his arrival. "What do you want?"
The glitter in Thorn's optics only increased. "How about... you," he responded, making absolutely no effort to hide the lust in his gaze as he looked Drift over again. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the lack of reaction in Drift, other than annoyance and flickers of hate.
It wasn't what he'd expected given the difficulties he'd had up to now. Neither was the calculated way the dark grounder was looking at him, rather like he was the one being pursued, rather than the pursuer.
"Exact act?" Drift demanded, edging closer.
Thorn's grin widened. "Me spiking you. From behind." The last part was purred, the black mech's fanlike wings flaring and vibrating with anticipation.
"How long will that buy your silence?" Drift was focused on his sparkling even though he was looking at Thorn.
Thorn purred. "Until I want you again," he replied after a moment, shifting the squirming sparkling in his arms.
That earned a low growl and a nod. Drift held his hands out for his creation expectantly. ~It's dealt with for now,~ he tried to calm Wing down without letting on exactly what he'd traded for their creation.
Thorn made a clucking sound. "I'll hold onto her until we get back to your hideaway." To make sure Drift wouldn't make any attempts to get out of the arrangement.
Despite the flash of anger-frustration, Drift turned around and stalked back to the door that Thorn still hadn't managed to hack. He quickly palmed the control and databurst the code through his palm. The door slid open and he turned his helm to make sure Thorn was still there as he walked inside.
The black mech slipped inside after him, flaring his wings, pleased at having gotten into the lair he'd been barred from entering for vorns. Wing had been refusing to let him in since, he suspected, just before the sparkling had actually separated. Glancing around, Thorn could see the telltale signs of sparkling-proofing, as well as toys scattered about here and there. There were also the expected signs of long-term residence by both Knights.
"You're in," Drift rounded on him, demanding his sparkling back.
"Quite a cozy little nest you two've made in here," Thorn crooned, finally yielding the squirming sparkling. He wandered farther inside, keeping an optic on Drift while he took in the changes that had been made since the last time he had been in the den. It had been complete then, he was coming to decide, though there were the beginnings of a new room being carved out. No doubt for the sparkling when it was older.
It was adorable, in his opinion, how Drift's entire focus went to the squirming little mass of lanky limbs the moment it was handed over. He actually cooed at the little thing to settle it, and it did. Quite the good pet of a creator. Wing should be proud of his work in civilizing and training the dark grounder.
Drift was now ignoring him, walking towards the berthroom with a settled sparkling in his arms.
Thorn sauntered after the grounder, watching Drift's interaction with the little sparkling. It was adorable, and no little bit amusing, to see how domesticated Drift had become. Following Drift into the berthroom, Thorn actually purred as he took in the coverings and metal-mesh pillows on the berth. One of them had been spoiling the other. Thorn would have bet on it having been Wing. The berth was set up well for impromptu bondage too. Perfect.
He watched Drift coo an apology to the sparkling before putting it in stasis, settling it in the crib and locking a grated lid. Interesting. So the little one was already an escape artist. Definitely got that from Wing.
With that done, Drift turned to face Thorn and spread his arms slightly. "I'm yours until Wing returns."
Thorn sauntered over to the dark-armored grounder, flaring his fanlike wings. "Oh yes, you are mine." He maneuvered Drift toward the lush berth, pulling a length of leftover metal cable from his last round of chores in the Citadel from his subspace. The black jet wasn't stupid; he could almost smell the hostility flowing from the shorter, heavier mech.
As quickly as he could manage, Thorn whipped the bit of cable out, winding it around Drift's wrists and pulling it tight. It would at least reduce the chance of Drift ripping his helm off his neck as he overloaded.
Without complaint Drift turned around and knelt on the berth, lowering himself to his forearms and slid his valve cover open.
The taller jet took a moment to look over the dark grounder and just drink in the sight. The sight of Drift kneeling, valve open, waiting for him, was intoxicating. Thorn let an unholy smirk slide across his features as he settled into the berth, running his palms over Drift's flanks and sides and lower back.
"Such a pretty little pet," the black jet crooned as his spike pressurized out of its housing, already slick with lubricants, and a gray digit slid down to circle the rim of Drift's valve. It was no surprise that Drift was dry, but it also quivered, used to being touched and enjoying it.
Long fingers slid into the quivering valve, set on exploring and locating every sensor node in reach. Thorn's thumb traced over one of the sensor-rich platelets surrounding the entrance while two fingers mapped out the valve's interior, catching and kneading a sensor node between them.
He was rewarded by a full-frame shiver and flare of pleasure across Drift's field, then a soft moan. The grounder held still, a trickle of lubricant oozing into his valve as the flexible lining contracted around the invading fingers.
Thorn's grin widened as his fingers delved deeper into the valve, reaching in as far as they could go, then parting and dragging torturously slowly down the inner walls, over the sensor nodes. His other hand continued to explore dark plating, relishing how easily Drift heated up under his touch, the shivers he drew from his new pet, how slick the space around his fingers became.
He wasn't the least bit fooled that Drift was actually enjoying this, but physically, it was working nicely.
Thorn let out a pleased purr at the slickness. Wing certainly had the grounder well-trained. Twisting his wrist to let his fingertips spiral slightly along the valve's walls as he withdrew them, the black jet leaned over Drift, supporting himself with one hand as he lined up his spike with the grounder's valve entrance. This close, their plating pressed together, there was no hiding for Drift. His emotions were laid bare to the experienced snoop. Anger, humiliation, submission ... the whisper that it was well worth it ... and buried deep, an enjoyment that neither expected.
Thorn's wings flared out as he firmly grasped Drift's hips, sheathing his spike in one smooth thrust. A low moan escaped his vocalizer as he pushed into the tight, slick passage, fingers tightening on Drift's hips. Around him the grounder's valve tensed and rippled, responding on reflex to make it good for both of them. Drift's field flickered with more shame-hate, but also with pleasure at the familiar act he'd learned to enjoy even if he didn't want it.
It was the emotions as much as the movements of Drift's valve that drew a pleasured moan from Thorn's vocalizer. He ran one hand down the center of Drift's back, along the channel where the dark grounder's Great Sword usually rested, remaining still for a long moment simply to savor the sensations.
"What a good berthpet you are," Thorn cooed, leaning down to bite at the back of Drift's neck.
Drift growled. "Enjoy it while you can," he hissed.
The response drew a dark chuckle from the taller jet. "Oh, I certainly intend to," was the silky response as Thorn finally began to move, setting a hard, fast pace.
Drift cursed himself for enjoying it, for slipping back into the mentality he'd had for so much of his existence, both before the Decepticons and as Deadlock. Yet his true focus had to remain on keeping the sick feeling, and what was happening, from Wing. He knew his mate would come as soon as he could, so stressing him over something he couldn't help would only make it worse.
He turned off his optics and focused on the pleasure. As much as it made his tanks churn to feel the charge building and make his assailant happy, he also knew that in the end, for him, it was better to let the pleasure build, let the overload happen, let the mecha taking him have what they wanted, and get even later. There was no point to fighting once he'd consented to save his family.
He'd done and endured far, far worse with less at stake.
Thorn's fingers dug into the seams of Drift's armor, scraping roughly over the circuitry. His hips pounded into Drift's, the taller mech's optics now turned off, Thorn making a rhythmic grunt in time with his thrusts. The charge was building fast for them both, but especially for Thorn.
Drift was more than willing to not overload if Thorn didn't force the issue.
Thorn didn't much care if Drift overloaded or not. He was completely focused on his own pleasure. The black jet pulled Drift's hips back into each thrust, hot air almost blasting from Thorn's vents. Grunts had turned into soft moans, charge already beginning to nip at his systems.
With the shift in focus Drift turned a bit of attention to working the spike in his valve, encouraging Thorn's charge even as he thanked Primus he wasn't carrying. The last thing he would ever want was to have a sparkling built on contributions of a rapist.
The black jet's hips slammed against Drift's as Thorn overloaded hard, his fingers digging painfully into the seams along Drift's sides, excess charge leaping across his plating, snapping at Drift's haunches and back. Hot transfluid spurted from Thorn's spike, filling Drift's valve.
It was almost enough to trigger an overload, it could have if Drift had wanted it to. But with his mate coming home, with the potential for that energy to be spent with one who actually cared for him, the grounder fought his frame's desires down and simply accepted the sensations of the mech over him.
It could have been so much worse. Thorn at least fit in him without tearing the lining or breaking calipers. He was taller, but not actually bigger.
Purring with pleasure, trembling all over from the sensations and the intense satisfaction, Thorn collapsed over Drift, taking his time removing himself from the grounder's valve.
"Very good berthpet," Thorn purred. "Very well-trained."
"I wish I could introduce you to the mech who trained me," Drift growled, vindictive glee flowing freely at the thought.
Thorn only chuckled, finally sliding free and lounging back against one of the pillows. He didn't even bother retracting his spike.
The sound of the door opening, then the sound of pedes on floor caught the attention of both mechs. Wing had arrived.
~Berthroom, I'm bound, he's on my far side,~ Drift supplied with a tactical databurst.
"Have fun when Wing reclaims you," Thorn patted Drift's raised aft as he rolled off the berth to stand. "You two did make a pretty jetling."
Wing was into the berthroom a moment later, wings flared, armor on end. Gold optics were glowing fiercely. This was a furious dark jet. Bristling angrily, Wing advanced on the taller jet.
"He's all yours," Thorn motioned to the bound and glaring dark grounder on the berth, his aft still in the air and valve dripping transfluid. "You trained him well."
The shorter jet snarled at him. "He's my mate. Not my pet, and certainly not yours. Don't you ever touch him again!"
"I'll have him when I want, as my pet, if you want that," he motioned to the crib, "to remain a secret."
~Kill him, or free me and I will,~ Drift pleaded on the bond, struggling against the cable binding his wrists in earnest.
Wing's snarl dropped to dangerous depths. He took a step closer to the other black jet, bringing the blaster he carried out of subspace and pressing the barrel against Thorn's helm.
The taller jet's optics widened and brightened as he processed the forbidden object.
"You've had your fun," Wing growled, optics flaring. "Drift is my mate, not your plaything, and she is my sparkling. I have absolutely no problem with shooting you or letting Drift shoot you if you a) open your mouth about her, or b) come near my mate again."
The black jet flicked the safety off, letting the gun power up, so that Thorn knew he was serious.
"Right. No touching Drift, no thinking about the sparkling that doesn't exist," Thorn kept his focus on the blaster, trying to pull up data he'd deleted long ago on its range and damage capacity as he worked on edging towards the door. He was very mindful to edge around Wing on the far side from the crib, not all that keen to find out what the younger jet would do if he came between Wing and his creation.
Wing sidled closer to the berth, pulling out one of his smaller blades. Moving so that he could keep one optic on the retreating Thorn at the same time, he sliced through the cable binding Drift, releasing the obviously furious grounder.
"He's all yours, my love," Wing purred to Drift, very deliberately stepping out of the way but still keeping his gun trained on Thorn.
Thorn made one step back and fired his turbines, taking off to escape the lunge Drift didn't hide. He forgot to account for the fact that sparkling proofing meant the main door was nearly as well locked from inside as outside.
Wing grinned and strolled after his mate, his delight nearly feral when Drift caught up with Thorn at the main door and crashed into the slender jet, crunching him between the much heavier grounder's armored frame and the very solid, heavy door.
Powering down the blaster and resting the barrel against his shoulder, Wing let out a purr at the crunch of metal and the resulting yelp. He stood to one side, watching with pleasure as Thorn was quite thoroughly mauled. Bits of black metal clattered against the floor.
Oh, the jet fought back. He fought for his very spark. Cornered against a protective creator, much heavier and with far more to-the-death fighting experience, it wasn't long before Thorn went limp and Drift tore his chest plate clean off, allowing the deep red spark glow into the room.
Subspacing the blaster, Wing stepped forward to grasp Drift's shoulders, dig in his pedes, and pull his mate off the mangled jet. ~You can't kill him... At least not yet. It would raise too many questions, questions we really don't want to have to answer,~ Wing told Drift softly. ~But he's gotten the message. He won't touch you again if he wants to live.~
Panting growls was all Drift managed to respond with, his focus on Thorn.
They both knew, could feel, that Drift was beyond thinking, beyond reason. He was down to instinct ... and that instinct included complying with Wing. Even if he didn't want to.
Wing pressed himself against Drift's back, looking over his shoulder at the mangled jet, purring in his mate's audial, wings fluttering behind him. Watching that had wound him up so much that when he finally got his mate in the berth, it would take very little to make him overload.
~He's no longer a threat,~ the smaller black jet purred, rubbing his cheek against Drift's.
With a rumble Drift turned his helm to claim a kiss, easily shifting from violence to arousal, especially in response to the mech he always wanted. ~Take me.~
Wing returned the kiss, rubbing himself against his mate's armor, hands sliding into seams to stroke and caress. The dark jet hummed into the kiss, his feral delight at watching Thorn go down under his mate's attack resonating down their bond. One hand slipped down to just brush the rim of Drift's valve, still slick with lubricant and transfluid.
~Yes,~ Drift turned, needing to see who was touching him. The fields, the knowing wasn't enough. His hands ran down Wing's sides, drawing him forward as Drift backed up to brace himself against the wall next to his near-kill. ~Not damaged. Just ... used.~
Wing leaned into Drift's hands, fluttering his wings, his cockpit glass scraping lightly against the grounder's heavier chestplate. The dark jet settled between Drift's thighs, shifting his hips to slide his spike into the offered valve. Leaning forward, Wing nuzzled against his mate, rubbing his cheek armor against Drift's cheek, jaw, and shoulder.
The sigh of pleasure, of relief, was as sweet as ever as Drift held him, worked his spike eagerly, rocked into his light thrusts and returned the nibbling kisses and rubbing. The bond snapped open, offering Wing all that Drift had held back, held in, from that first moment of panic when he realized Starcrossed had escaped through what Thorn had done, to the mixture of shame and relief when he heard his mate arrive.
Fluttering wings stiffened, trembling, as the emotions that flowed through the bond. Wing chirred, almost vibrating with rage at the black jet laying mauled on the floor at their pedes. The rage slid into the fierce, feral joy and the pleasure Wing had taken in watching Thorn getting ripped apart. Reassurance reach back, wrapping around Drift, riding a tidal wave of love.
Already on the edge of overload just from watching the mauling, it only took a few firm thrusts to drive the dark jet over the edge. His kissed Drift fiercely, keening into his mouth, prickles of excess charge jumping between them.
Drift moaned, taking the charge Thorn had built up, the charge of being completely free to maul with his bare hands, the pleasure of being with Wing and the charge his mate was offering with his overload. A deep, grateful sound escaped the grounder into their kiss as a much gentler overload than normal washed through him, soothing the worst of shame as it washed away the physical evidence.
Thought was beyond them both, but their bond was pulsing with emotions, reassuring each other that they still stood together and the other was forgiven any failing in the events.
Wing pressed himself as close to his mate as he could physically get, wrapping his arms around Drift's frame. Warm gold optics met deep red. Love, forgiveness, understanding, and reassurance poured through the bond, wrapping around Drift like a warm blanket. It was accepted, welcomed, and Drift held him in return, similar emotions and assurances flowing to Wing in reply.
~Are we even going to try and explain what happened?~ Drift glanced at the mech slowly bleeding out at their pedes.
~We'll probably have to tell someone something to explain how Thorn got so mangled,~ Wing replied. ~But it won't be as bad as it would be if we haul his deactivated carcass back to the Citadel, tempting as the thought may be.~
Drift hummed, accepting even if he wasn't so happy with it. ~The near-truth, I think. He used me, we beat the bolts out of him. It's not like anyone should be surprised that happened.~
~By now I think half the city knows just how possessive I am,~ Wing purred in agreement. ~Too bad Thorn seems to have missed that memo.~ The dark jet vented softly, warm air skirling over Drift's dark armor. ~I can scrape him up and haul what's left of him out of the tunnels for Redline if you'd rather get cleaned up.~
~Yes, and wake Starcrossed up, comfort her,~ Drift nodded, reluctant to let go but knowing he had to. ~She didn't see what he did to me, but she knows something bad was going to happen because he caught her.~
It took Wing a klik to peel himself away from his mate, leaning in for one last nuzzle and soft chirr before stepping away. He regarded the puddle of Thorn on the floor, then began gathering up all the important bits.
~I'll be back as soon as Redline and whoever else finishes interrogating me, and then I'm going to latch onto you and not let go until sometime tomorrow,~ the dark jet promised as he grabbed the nearest semi-intact limb and literally dragged Thorn out the door.
~Good,~ Drift replied as he headed for the washrack, very open with just how much he wanted that.