Crack in the Pavement
Chapter 13
This chapter is an M for Jazz/ Prowl (Optimus/ Ironhide is coming soon)
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: Megatron uses Ironhide to get his revenge on Prime. Multiple minor side pairings, see list in fic.
Warning: Graphic rape. Torture. M/M robot slash consensual as well as NON-CON
Pairings: Non-con Megatron/ Ironhide, Con Optimus/ Ironhide. Established Jazz/ Prowl, Twins/ Ratchet, Mirage/ Cliffjumper
Ratchet lay on their berth too spent to move. The Twins lay over him. He stared up at the ceiling. His intakes and engine were roaring, forcing coolant into his desperately overheated systems. They didn't like to offline him. It was their preference to 'face him and overload him until he was boneless, dazed but still online. Ratchet didn't know where this preference came from but he had to admit he appreciated it. He had no control over their 'facing as it was; he liked to at least know what was going on.
His legs felt heavy, and he couldn't muster the energy to roll onto his side. He hoped they'd gone easy enough on him so that he could at least walk straight tomorrow. The Twins had not been nearly apologetic enough the last time, in fact they'd looked a little too pleased with themselves. They'd proceeded to "make it up to him" with a massage but they'd hardly stopped there. Though, they had been careful of hurting him.
But Primus, every night? Where did they find the energy to 'face like that every slagging night. Sure, Ratchet always had enough time to recharge fully but while they 'faced he always felt he was lagging while they were still full of energy. He just couldn't keep up with them. Ratchet vented and offlined his optics. If the Twins were dissatisfied with him, they hid it well. No, Ratchet was comfortably certain that those two were happy, little mechs.
He wondered what Cliffjumper and Mirage were doing. Nothing that would hurt Mirage's back. Possibly, nothing at all. They were the least openly affectionate couple on the Ark. Ratchet wondered how much that had to do with continuing issues between other Autobots and Mirage's Towers status. Optimus and Prowl continued to display their trust in Mirage in the hope that eventually the other 'Bots would come around. In some ways, Prowl's displays were more likely to be effective. Optimus was seen as more trusting, maybe even more innocent by most of the Autobots. Prowl was seen as aloof. Still, Prowl's continued support for Mirage hadn't yet made Mirage anymore welcome by many of the 'Bots. Ratchet onlined his optics and tried to sit up, only to fall back. He was too tired to move.
Slagger. When had he cleared Prowl for duty? He hadn't, Ratchet was sure of that. So when had Prowl snuck his way back on duty? Ratchet would find out in the morning and Prowl was going to get a piece of his processor.
Sunstreaker shifted, already recharging and slipped one of his legs over Ratchet's while tightening his grip over Ratchet's midsection and murmuring into Ratchet's throat. Sideswipe seemed to have onlined again. He pushed himself onto his forearm and took at Ratchet's face. He placed his hand over Ratchet's spark chamber before laying back down and resting his head on Ratchet's shoulders. Ratchet curve his servo over Sideswipe's shoulder.
"Recharge, Ratch," Sideswipe ordered in a sleepy voice. Ratchet did.
"But he's alright?" Optimus asked Prowl of Mirage.
"The shrapnel embedded in his armour and missed is protoform," Prowl explained. He was sitting at his desk. Optimus was sitting in the chair across from him. "Ratchet repaired the damage last night. I gave both Mirage and Cliffjumper today off, and I'm assigning them new duties this evening. Mirage needs protection, and I want to assign Cliffjumper as his bodyguard."
"I agree completely," Optimus said. "Thank you for being on top of this, Prowl."
"It's my job," Prowl replied. "But I wasn't certain if letting you recharge was the right choice."
"It was," Optimus said.
"Good," Prowl said took a deep breath. "I heard Ironhide has been released."
"He was," Optimus said. "I left him in his quarters when I came here."
Prowl nodded and said: "I'm glad. It's a good start."
"Yes it is," Optimus smiled.
"Prowl," Ratchet shouted as he burst into the room. "I never cleared you for duty."
"You were preoccupied," Prowl replied, stone-faced. Optimus couldn't suppress a smile. "I waited until my doorwing felt normal before returning to duty. It is within my authority to place myself back on the duty roster."
"Slagger!," Ratchet raged. Optimus smirked at the scene. Prowl managed to remain stolid while Ratchet raged at him. It had definitely not been the right thing to say, Optimus resisted the urge to chuckle. Prowl had many talents, but smooth talking was not one of them. Even as he raged, Ratchet examined Prowl's doorwing.
"You're fine," Ratchet grumbled. "I'm never too preoccupied to check up on my patients so don't pull this stunt again."
"Yes Ratchet," Prowl said. Ratchet did not appear placated but he shifted his attention from Prowl to Optimus, and looked Prime up and down with sharp optics.
"You look better," Ratchet said. "I'll be in my medbay."
"I looked bad?" Optimus asked Prowl once he felt it was safe to speak.
"Yes," Prowl said. "Have-crazed, and recharge deprived."
"Ah," Optimus breathed; he looked sheepish. He had fallen to pieces without Ironhide. Prowl gave him a reassuring look.
"I would have been more concerned if you'd seemed fine," Prowl said.
"Really?" Optimus asked.
"Absolutely," Prowl replied. "You and Ironhide have been closer than most bond mates for as long as I've known you. His missing, his hurting, should hurt you."
Optimus nodded slowly, optics shuttered. Strange that Prowl's understanding made him feel more at ease with his inner turmoil.
Ironhide sat on his berth, data pad in hand and wondered how he was going to pass the time. He used to spend his days keeping watch over Optimus and training other 'Bots. It had always been rare for him to just sit in his berth room. Bitterly, Ironhide wondered how long it would be before he felt ready to train again, or even to stand guard over Optimus wherever they were at the time. He felt coolant pooling in his optics and Ironhide shook his helm viciously and rubbed his face brusquely. It was too easy to feel bitter. If he let himself, Ironhide could wallow in bitterness, weeping for what he had lost.
No. He hadn't lost anything, not yet. Megatron had raped him over and over but he hadn't taken anything from Ironhide, not literally. He had hurt him, violated him, but he hadn't done what he wanted to do which was destroy Ironhide and Optimus. Ironhide was still very much Ironhide, although a little battered. Optimus was still Optimus, although somewhat more jaded. And Optimus still looked at him, still spoke to him; he didn't shun him. When Ironhide thought about it, he concluded Megatron had lost. He laughed sardonically. Ironhide didn't feel victorious but he felt a bit better when he thought about it that way. But what was their relationship exactly. He and Optimus. The door alarm pinged, interrupting his train of thought.
"Ironhide?" Optimus asked as the door hissed open. "I thought you might like a cube."
"Come in," Ironhide said. "Join me."
Optimus smiled and took a seat next to Ironhide on the berth. He handed a cube to Ironhide and leaned back against the wall. Ironhide took a sip of his cube and returned to his previous train of thought. The question repeated in a his processor in a continuous loop; he rested his cube against his knee. His intakes hitched and his engine revved loudly. It was a question he had to know the answer to.
"I have a question for you, Optimus," Ironhide said.
"Ask me anything," Optimus replied. He could hear Ironhide's engine rumbling. The sound made his own nerves go on edge.
"What exactly is our relationship?" Ironhide asked. He looked away from Optimus, unable to meet his optics.
"What do you mean?" Optimus asked. His own engine hiccupped.
"I love you, Optimus," Ironhide said, his shoulders hunched and he vented, and waited to be rejected.
"'Hide," Optimus said, shocked.
"Not as a friend," Ironhide added, interrupting Optimus, and still looking away from him. "Not as a brother."
"I love you too 'Hide," Optimus said, reaching for and clutching Ironhide's servo. He held it against Ironhide's leg. "More than a friend, more than a brother."
"Optimus," Ironhide said, turning to face him, optics wide and bright with shock.
"I foolishly believed that remaining no more than friends would keep you safe," Optimus admitted. "Would keep you from becoming a target. I was wrong."
"Wasn't yer fault, Optimus," Ironhide said, squeezing Optimus's digits.
"It is my fault that we are only speaking of this now," Optimus said, he took his free servo and drew Ironhide close to him, and kissed his faceplates immediately above his optics. "And I'm sorry for that."
Ironhide sucked a deep breath through his intakes, shuttered his optics and smiled. He opened them again and leaned his head against Optimus's shoulder. His engine hummed in a combination of disbelief and mirth.
"So am I," Ironhide said, still smiling. "But let's not let that hold us back."
"You done yet?" Jazz asked as he leaned over Prowl's shoulders.
"Soon," Prowl said. "I'm still working on covering all the patrols. I'd prefer not to ruffle any feathers by putting 'Bots on shifts off their normal schedules. Trailbreaker and Hound have both volunteered to take on extra patrols but that still leaves me the question of who gets bumped onto nights."
"Tracks had them before, didn't he?" Jazz asked. He rested his servos against the sides of Prowl's neck.
"Yes, but not because he enjoyed them but because someone had to do them," Prowl said. "He was so genuinely pleased to be on the day shift again I'd really hate to bump him back onto nights."
"Ah," Jazz replied, rubbing the taunt cables of Prowl's neck with talented digits. "Tracks is never happy."
"Exactly," Prowl said. "I'm considering Bumblebee for the simple fact that even if he doesn't like it, he won't complain."
"A good point," Jazz said. "You've worked enough Prowler, come back to our quarters with me."
"Jazz..." Prowl sighed. "Jazz!"
In hopes of encouraging his mate along, Jazz slid his digits down Prowl's shoulders down into the seam at the top of Prowl's doorwings. Prowl arched involuntarily as those clever digits tweaked the cables and wires that came from his back and ended in his doorwings. It was impossible for him to think when Jazz did this. His mate knew exactly how to touch him, how to make him burn. And he did burn. Jazz kissed along his jawline and moved his hands to actually fondle Prowl's doorwings. That was the trick. When Prowl became aroused, the sensors in his doorwings lit up and made the plating especially erogenous. More than once Jazz had made Prowl overload just from manipulating his doorwings.
"So sexy the way you move for me," Jazz whispered into his audios. Prowl was powerless to resist him. He moaned and arched himself into those servos. Jazz kissed and sucked along the the edge of one doorwing, and he took his hands off of Prowl's doorwings to pull Prowl out of his chair by his hips, and lean Prowl over his desk.
Jazz pushed the chair to the side and pressed himself against Prowl's back, and renewed his assault on Prowl's doorwings with digits and denta. Prowl clutched the edge of his desk and moaned. It was so hard to think, to even muster the will to think when Jazz touched him like this; he couldn't even gather the will to complain about being bent over his desk while Jazz ravished him. He felt one of Jazz's servos cup the panel cover the valve between his thighs. Without thinking, Prowl let the panel open with a moan.
A digit teased the rim of his valve and Prowl opened his mouth and arched his neck as he pleaded wordlessly. The digit slipped into his valve. Two more joined it quickly. Jazz massaged the soft, sensitive lining of Prowl's valve. Jazz teased the most sensitive sensor nodes as he stretched and prepared it for his cable.
"You're dripping for me," Jazz said in a hoarse voice. "I want to 'face you. I want bury my cable in your sweet valve. Well, Sweetspark, do you want my cable?"
"Yes," Prowl moaned. He burned. His engine couldn't pump coolant through his systems fast enough. His valve ached for more as Jazz removed his fingers. Jazz gripped his hips and buried his cable, slowly into Prowl's valve.
Prowl shook and cried out at the penetration. Jazz rocked in and out of him at a leisurely, torturous pace. Jazz returned to sucking along Prowl's doorwing. The roar of their engines echoed through the office along with the sounds of interfacing. Their moans wounds together in a perfect harmony.
"Jazz," Prowl moaned. Jazz withdrew his cable, pulled Prowl's chair back to him and sat down in it. Shakily, Prowl turned around. The roar of his engine slowed. He greedily sucked air through his intakes.
"Come sit on my lap, Prowler," Jazz said, his arms stretched out. "Ride me."
Jazz drew Prowl to him. Prowl knelt over Jazz, held his cable and slowly sat down and impaled himself with Jazz's cable. Both mechs moaned; Jazz bit his lip to stop himself from overloading too soon. He wrapped his arms around Prowl's back and help him balance while he buried his fingers in the joints of Prowl's doorwings. Prowl rode Jazz slowly, than quickly, squeezing his valve around Jazz's cable. He leaned forward and took Jazz's sensory horns into his hands. They kissed, moaned into each other's mouths.
Later they rested, Prowl still sitting in Jazz's lap, Jazz's cable still buried in his valve and their upper cables connected in the other's ports. Jazz stroked Prowl's doorwings absentmindedly. Prowl rested his helm against the crook of Jazz's neck.
"Why at my desk," Prowl asked, shifting slightly.
"You weren't going to leave," Jazz said. "And I wanted to distract you. Besides, you weren't complaining."
"We've made a mess" Prowl said, trying to scowl.
"I'll clean it up later," Jazz promised. He dragged his digits gently down Prowl's doorwings. "Now do you want to go to our quarters or should we just stay here?"
"Quarters," Prowl said. "Or my desk may not survive the night."
End Chapter 13
One more update and then I'm off to California for Bot Con! I may or may not update on the trip, as I will be busy having a vacation.