Chapter 40: In Which There is SmutX3
Thanks to autumnsparrow, who was kind enough to read this!
Also, I've started two more stories - WID: What You Didn't Know. It's basically an extension to the first three chapters of this story. If you're interested, it'll be under stuff that I've written. For a more mature audience, I've begun a story called Shameless. It's really raunchy and can only be found at my LJ. If you're interested in that one (and you are 18), go to my author's profile thingie. The links are listed in order, so you don't have to go fishing all over my LJ. I think that's it.
Anyway.
Y'all know the drill – there is smut in this chapter. If you're not 18, you shouldn't be reading this, even though it's just botsmut. Comments, complaints, and concerns can be mailed via PM system. If you see any misspelled words or blatant abominations to the English language, lemme know, please? Thanks!
This chapter takes place the day before the birth scene.
Early Friday afternoon, miles and worlds away…
"Wheeljack?"
"Yes, Firestar?"
The mech turned to look at the femme lying in the grass beside him. Wheeljack and Firestar had escaped from the base for a few hours. Now they were lying in a nearby valley, observing the wildlife. Wheeljack smiled internally at the turn of events. At first, he had thought the femme to be nothing short of crazy and rude, but now that he had gotten to know her, his spark sang at the mere mention of her name. Ever since the accident in the science wing a few months ago, they had become nearly inseparable. Firestar, with her inherent curiosity, was a breath of fresh air in his life. Not to mention her love of explosives.
"Does…"
The femme trailed off and watched as Wheeljack stared off into space. A small smile crossed her face as she watched the emotions play across what portion of his face that she could see. Happiness, by the way his optic shutters crinkled. Amusement was easily identified by the soft glow of his optics. But Firestar couldn't determine the last emotion – it was a faraway look in his darkened optics. Something she had seen before, something she should know. But she couldn't place it.
She gently pressed her hand against his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry. What were we talking about?"
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead," Wheeljack said, relishing in the feeling of the small black hand still pressed against him. Firestar fidgeted slightly.
"I don't want you to be offended or anything, but I was curious…"
"Oh? Firestar – curious? What is this?"
"Wheeljack," Firestar cried out in mock indignation, crossing her arms over her chassis, "It's not nice to tease!"
"I'm playing, Firestar. Now what did you want to ask me?"
"Hmph," Firestar said, turning away from him.
"Come on, Firestar, don't be that way," Wheeljack said. She could hear the mischief in his voice and she cautiously turned one optic in his direction. He pounced. Firestar squealed loudly when his fingers slipped under the edge of her chassis. She began shrieking her laughter and pushing at his shoulders. When he did not relent, she began smacking his shoulders, trying to push him away. Finally, he relented. Then he realized just how close he was to Firestar.
He was lying beside her, propped up on one arm and leaning over her slightly. The femme didn't seem to mind. In fact, she even seemed to want the physical contact with him. She leaned against the base of the tree, her face not more than a handspan away from Wheeljack's. Firestar gingerly reached up and caressed his chest plates, slowly moving her hand upwards. She paused when her fingers came into contact with the mask that covered his face.
"Does…does your mask retract," she asked quietly, as though afraid to ruin the moment.
He nodded. He could see the unasked question in her optics and retraced the mask. She caressed his cheek plate, gently exploring the metal. Wheeljack shivered slightly at her touch. It had been far too long since he had last been touched so intimately. He shuttered his optics when her fingers brushed across his lip components.
However, he was not prepared for what Firestar did next: she brushed her lip components against his.
Wheeljack's spark almost exploded out of its box at the tender touch. Firestar deepened the kiss when he did not resist. He returned the gentle kiss, slowly delving his glossa into her mouth. Firestar moaned softly. One hand wound its way around his neck, the other remained planted firmly on his chest plate. Whatever spell it was that Wheeljack had been under was broken by her soft moan. He pulled away.
"Primus, I'm sorry, Firestar," he said quietly, hoping that he hadn't ruined their friendship, "I hope we'll still be friends, I didn't mean to take advantage of you. Will you forgive me?"
"'Jack, I don't want to be friends," Firestar said softly. His face fell – he really had screwed things up, hadn't he?
"I want you to be my mate," she said quietly, affirming her feelings for him. Wheeljack couldn't believe it – the femme of his dreams wanted him. She wanted him! As her mate.
"I…I can understand if you don't feel the same way about me, Wheeljack," Firestar continued, noting how he froze. Wheeljack started at the sound of her voice – how could she think that he didn't want her? He had loved her since the day they had met while on Elita's crew. The accident in the nursery brought them together. At that time, he couldn't have asked for more – he had seen Leo's advances and her coy responses. He didn't hold a candle to Leo and his good looks. Wheeljack would have been happy just to see her every day. But now…now with what she was asking…
He would be the mech holding her every night, telling her that he loved her and always would. He would be the mech that shared her laughter and tears, the one that shared her happiness and pain. He would be the one that comforted her, that cared for her, he would be the mech that made love to her and he'd be the one to raise her sparklings. Wheeljack could scarcely believe it. Her hopeful proposition had to have been some strange dream conjured up to torture his poor spark. But as she shifted beside him, he was acutely aware of their surroundings – the breeze across their armor, the sunlight filtering through the trees, the sound of the nearby brook. Then he knew it wasn't a dream, and maybe, just maybe, she loved him as much as he loved her. Wheeljack decided to take the chance.
"No, Firestar, it isn't that," he said quietly, cupping her chin in his palm, "Nothing like that."
"Then what is it," she asked.
"I can't believe that you'd want me. You could have any mech on this base at your beck and call, Firestar, and you want me?"
"Yes, you. I don't want anyone else but you."
Wheeljack smiled. He kissed her again, this time taking his sweet time with her. After a second, much to Firestar's annoyance, Wheeljack pulled away. She reached for him but he caught her hands in his, giving her a contemplating look.
"You're positive you know the risks of being bonded to me, right," he asked, mock-seriousness laced through his voice. She glanced at him curiously.
"Like what," she asked playfully, tugging him a bit closer. He rested his forehead on hers, gazing intently into her optics.
"I tend to blow things up. Could you cope with that for the rest of eternity," he answered dryly. She giggled and nodded.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," she whispered, pulling him into an embrace. Wheeljack made a soft noise of contentment as he pulled her flush against the front of his body, gently caressing her. Firestar kissed the palm of his hand before leaning back against him. They lay together for the rest of the afternoon, watching the sunset.
They (well, it was mainly Firestar's decision because Wheeljack couldn't tell her 'no') decided to bond that very night. They managed to get back to his quarters without being seen by anyone but Prowl, and Prowl had long since known this day was coming, so it hadn't been a surprise to see Wheeljack leading Firestar into his room while kissing and doing immoral things. Prowl had muttered something about 'it being damn time already', making a note to tell Jazz that he had to cough up exactly four hundred and ninety three credits. Prowl thanked his position as Prime's SIC and took them off of the work roster for two days.
Then he sent the lovebirds a notification message, telling them that by his professional, medical opinion, they were not fit to be working until they got their biyearly maintenance checks taken care of within the next two days, tactfully adding a post script detailing Ratchet's irritation of their procrastination.
The door shut behind Wheeljack and he turned to his soon-to-be-mate. Firestar was gazing adoringly up at him. He leaned down and pressed his lip components to hers once more. This time they kissed passionately. Firestar wrapped her arms around Wheeljack's neck and stood on tiptoes, letting him know exactly how much she wanted him. He was a bit surprised by her ardor, but returned the passion and then some. He trailed his hands over her body, drifting over her hips and over her abdomen, caressing every pleasure receptor that he could.
Firestar leaned heavily against him, panting against his lips as his sensual assault continued. Firestar dragged her fingertips down his chest plates, teasing the seam that ran down the center. He moaned softly against her lips. Wheeljack pulled her up against his body firmly, one hand cupping her aft and the other nestled in the curve of her lower back. Firestar gasped as the action pressed his interface port against her abdomen. It suddenly became much harder to stand under her own power.
She was barely aware of Wheeljack leading her to his bedroom. Firestar was only focused on the mech in her arms. She was frankly surprised at how good he was at kissing – he always wore that mask, so how had he gotten that good? - but she pushed that thought away when he guided her onto the berth. Now her attention was solely on the mech standing before her.
He had no time to feel surprise when the femme reached up and pulled him down onto the berth, eager to start the bonding process. Wheeljack chuckled quietly at her eagerness. He lowered his lip components to the sensitive circuitry in her neck, nipping and biting gently. Firestar let out a soft, yearning moan, urging him on. The tingling waves from her interface port reminded her that she couldn't hold out much longer, and she made sure to let Wheeljack know about her predicament. He obliged and positioned his hips over hers, gently sucking on the fuel lines in her throat.
Firestar let out an impatient whimper and latched onto his hips, trying to bring his interface port down onto hers. Wheeljack lowered his hips to hers and locked their interface ports together. Firestar cried his name out when they started cycling information and electricity, wrapping her legs firmly about his waist. Wheeljack groaned softly, pressing his chest against hers, gently rubbing against her.
The friction on her chest was too much for Firestar and she promptly overloaded, screaming his name and arching into him. Wheeljack followed shortly, shuddering as the femme's overload triggered his own. Electricity danced between their frames, creating tiny lightning bolts that snapped and crackled in the air. Firestar let out a soft appreciative moan, nuzzling his throat softly. After a second or two, Wheeljack managed to come to his senses and disengage their ports. Firestar took a moment to rest.
As she lay in his arms, listening to the purr of his engine, she mused quietly. She had just overloaded with the love of her life. Now she was going to bond with him – and how had his hands gotten underneath her? She let out a long moan as he caressed her back, gently caressing the plates and slipping his fingers underneath. Firestar arched into his chest when he brushed up against the sensitive motor cables that ran down her back, allowing easier access to the sensitive circuitry beneath. His optics smoldered as he watched her face contort in pleasure and he growled deep in his throat. She whimpered as his chest vibrated with the growl and began rolling her hips against his, eager for more contact. Wheeljack dropped his lips to her chassis, kissing a path down to her abdominal plating. His hand still remained underneath her, tweaking the pleasure receptors buried under the armor plating.
The accident from nearly three years ago had pretty much destroyed her spinal support and many of the neural circuits there. The accident left her very sensitive in that spot. Usually it was painful, but at Wheeljack's touch, the sensations proved to be nearly intoxicating. How did he know where to touch her?
Firestar rubbed his chest plates gently, begging him to part them for him. He obliged silently. Firestar instinctively arched toward him as soon as he exposed his spark box to her. As soon as his box opened, she nearly knocked him over trying to get to his spark. Wheeljack moved slowly, locking his gaze with hers. After this, there was no turning back. She'd be stuck with him forever. Firestar brushed his cheek plate with her fingers, silently assuring him that she wanted him and only him.
Wheeljack pressed his chest against hers. For a moment, there was nothing. Their sparks flew at one another, joining and hovering. Firestar moaned quietly, throwing her head back on the cushion beneath them. Wheeljack gently caressed the hollow of her throat before pressing his chest against hers a bit more tightly – initiating a spark bond without locked interface ports was a bit harder than with locked ports. It usually took a few seconds before the programming actually booted up.
He could feel her presence hovering just out of reach, and he reached for her. His action brought down their firewalls and they both cried out as their bond finally cemented itself between them. They could feel everything that made up the other – Firestar's quick temper, untamable will, and unbridled passion, Wheeljack's quirky, curious, and carefree ways – Firestar gasped and arched into his chest further when their sparks finally and fully merged.
It was incredible. It was nothing like she had ever imagined – the delicious feeling of being complete, being whole, was more than she could ever fully understand. She could feel everything that was Wheeljack and he could feel everything that was Firestar, and it all felt so right. They knew everything about the other but at the same time, nothing at all. Firestar could feel his presence. He was a little shy and a little awkward. She pulled him deeper into her spark, opening herself to him completely, beckoning him to be hers and only hers. Wheeljack needed no second invitation and curiously began exploring what she offered. Soon Wheeljack's turn came and Firestar eagerly explored her mate, curiously wondering what made the mech tick.
Soon their merged sparks drifted into their respective cases. Spark boxes shut. Chest armor slipped back into place. And in the midst of it, Wheeljack scooped Firestar into his arms and against his body, nuzzling her neck softly. She had given him one of the greatest gifts their kind could receive. He had done nothing to deserve her, he was sure of it. He reached to her, wondering what it was like, and was rewarded with a warm burst of love from the femme in his arms. Wheeljack powered down, suddenly exhausted from their activities. Firestar followed shortly afterwards.
"Well, well. Look who finally decided to come crawling out of his quarters," Ratchet said, leering at Wheeljack. Wheeljack made a face at his friend and began repairing the medical equipment Ratchet had set out. Ratchet raised one optic ridge as he took a good look at his friend – the mech had obviously tried to clean up before coming in to work, but had missed some very incriminating marks on his shoulders.
"So," the medic prompted, his voice full of mischievous glee, "What has had you so busy that you can't come and drink with the rest of us?"
"I've been busy," Wheeljack said neutrally, shrugging. Ratchet snorted – if those marks were anything to go by, Wheeljack had been very busy.
"I'll say," Ratchet said, "so who's the lucky femme?"
"What," Wheeljack asked, startled. How had Ratchet figured it out?!
"Who've you been with for the past two days?"
"Not telling," Wheeljack said, trying his best to hold on to whatever dignity he had left. He should have known that with a friend like Ratchet, his dignity would never, ever exist again.
"Come on, you fragger. I'm your closest friend," Ratchet said, rummaging around in a cabinet and pulling out a clean polishing cloth.
"I know. But I'm still not telling you," Wheeljack said, finally exasperated. The mech dumped the newly repaired scanner into a holding container and crossed his arms.
"Why not," Ratchet said, finding a can of wax to go with the polishing cloth.
"Because you never told me," Wheeljack said. Ratchet could have sworn that Wheeljack was smiling under his mask.
"Told you what?"
"How wonderful it is being bonded," Wheeljack said, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Ratchet opened his mouth to speak. His mouth snapped shut as he realized the implications of what Wheeljack had said. Then a grin crossed his face and he set the equipment down.
"Now you have to tell me, Wheeljack! And when did you bond with her? Why didn't you tell me you and her were together?! You little glitch, I told you about me and Nightshade!"
"She and I bonded two days ago and I didn't tell you because it was more of her decision to drag me into the room and – "
"Too much detail, 'Jack," Ratchet said, wincing.
"Oh. Sorry bout that. And yes, you told me about Nightshade, but you also went into vivid detail of what you did to her!"
"Who is it, you dirty old fragger," Ratchet asked, ignoring his friend's scathing comment.
"Firestar," Wheeljack finally admitted, "And you're one to talk about being a 'dirty old fragger'!" Ratchet let out a loud whoop, clapping his friend on the back.
"About fragging time, Wheeljack! Red! Get your aft in here!"
Red Alert grumbled and shuffled into the room.
"What," he snapped, thrusting his hands out to the sides.
"No getting an attitude in my med bay," Ratchet growled, then changed his train of thought, "Now, go dig that high grade out of my office! We're celebrating!"
"Celebrating what," Red Alert asked suspiciously, watching as Wheeljack buried his face in his hands.
"Wheeljack here has decided to join us in our ranks as a domesticated mech," Ratchet said, all but leering at Wheeljack, "Now that he's officially and permanently off the market, he'll be too busy to drink, he'll be running errands, and then he'll be raising sparklings – what?"
"What on Earth are you talking about," Red Alert asked, giving Ratchet a peculiar stare at the end of his speech.
"Wheeljack finally grew the lugnuts to whisk the femme of his dreams away," Ratchet said, grinning at Wheeljack, who buried his face in his hands and mumbled something in embarrassment.
"He and Firestar finally together? Primus, about time. When're you going to ask her to be your mate?"
"Oh, he and Firestar skipped the 'together' portion and leaped straight into the 'bonded' stage," Ratchet said, "Impatient fraggers, that's what they are."
Red Alert grinned.
"You poor, poor soul."
Red Alert had to duck when Wheeljack threw a heavy wrench at his head.
Sorry to the like, three people who have already read this. ;)