Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers.
WARNING: Mature content, and edited in one day.
XIV
"Star…" Thundercracker leaned close, and whispered in a conspirative manner, "Shouldn't we return to Vos?"
"Awww, TC, c'mon!" Skywarp answered before I could, "The party's just started! We can't leave now." He flashed Thundercracker a big grin, and took a big gulp from his cube of highgrade. "Here, try this. It's real good." He pushed the half-finished cube in front of our blue trine mate, and giggled.
Thundercracker looked down at the highgrade with a skeptical frown, and sent me a questioning gaze.
"It's…tolerable." I answered his unspoken question, and sipped my mostly full cube. It burned all the way down to my tank, and its taste reeked with impure properties. I grimaced. This was stronger than anything I have ever had before. It tasted horrible, but for some reasons, I simply could not stop drinking it.
Thundercracker pursed his lips, frown growing deeper, and sniffed at the highgrade. He took a tiny gulp, and almost spat it back out. Spluttering, he immediately pushed the cube back to Skywarp, all the while making retching noises. Skywarp, being the unsympathetic slagger that he was, threw his helm back and laughed, pointing at our coughing blue trine mate.
It took several kliks for Thundercracker to calm his rebelling systems.
"I still don't see why we have to attend this party." He sighed through his vents, and rested his helm in a propped up hand. "Vos is probably in chaos right now and all you two want to do is sit here with a bunch of drunken, rowdy ground pounders." He swept his optics around the room, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
After Sentinel Prime's torn, deactivated body had been disposed of to the Autobots – a present from Megatron and I, Kaon had fallen under Decepticon rule. With the perimeter secured, the new commander of the city had decided that a proper celebration was in order. The bars quickly filled with ground pounders drowning in highgrade. The whores had been rounded up and bought. Every building now bore the Decepticon sigil by way of coarsely applied purple paint. All civilians who survived the night cycle either joined the ranks or got slagged, their deactivated bodies melted down for spare parts. Overall, the mood was festive, which, apparently by Decepticon standards, meant drunken brawls breaking out around every street corner and couples participating in public interface in every alleyway.
I had every intention of returning to Vos as soon as Kaon had been claimed by Megatron. However, he insisted that I stayed until the start of the next cycle, saying something or another about solidifying our alliance in front of the troops. I did not fully understand the significance of such a thing, but according to Skywarp, my participation was very important in gladiator culture. I was simply surprised gladiators had a culture to begin with.
Under Megatron's persuasion and Skywarp's whining, I decided to stay, wanting a moment to relax as well. Based on the summary of the state of my city, sent to me by Nightfire upon my request, Vos was functioning as per usual, its civilians oblivious to what had happened in Kaon on this night. By my instruction, all contact with Iacon had been completely severed until my return. A meeting in regards to the Vosian-Decepticon alliance had been scheduled, and my advisors were already in deliberation on how to best address my citizens of the pending war situation. The number of perimeter guards had been increased. The labyrinth was closed to leaves until further notice. Firechaser was finally able to drink some energon by himself. Even Swiftglide had not sprouted any new conspiracy theories, though the fact that the one he had about Firechaser and the Autobots was correct unsettled me to an extent.
"Vos is fine. Our city is strong." I took another sip from my cube, wings twitching as it burned down my throat. "We will prevail, so don't flick your wing tips too much."
"Yeah, TC," Skywarp was already half sprawled on the table, looking at us with dazed, but happy optics, "If Screamer ain't worryin', why're you?"
Thundercracker looked him over, lips pressed together in a manner that clearly indicated he was kliks from entering creator mode.
"How many cubes of highgrade have you had?" He asked, staring at the cube in Skywarp's hand with a displeased expression.
"Not enough." Skywarp, catching our blue trine mate's stare, hastily lifted up his cube and chucked it down before reaching to grab another one.
"Stop that!" Thundercracker swatted at his hands, "Most of these empty ones are from you!"
It was true. Skywarp had drunk more cubes than Thundercracker and I combined.
"How your tank can hold that much liquid in the first place is beyond me." At Thundercracker's comment, we all turned to look at the other side of the table, where a big pile of empty cubes were.
"Well, you know highgrade," Skywarp swayed in his seat, optics shimmering and grin unwavering, "It don't stay long in your tank."
Thundercracker sighed, and opened his mouth. He was obviously in creator mode by now, which meant a long, boring lecture. I interrupted before he could begin.
"Leave him alone, TC. If he fries his processors, it's his own fault." Flicking a wing in a careless manner, I took a big gulp from my cube, and almost choked. Skywarp pointed at me and laughed. I glared, throwing one of the empty cubes at him. It bounced off his helm, and he almost fell off his chair.
"If he fries his processors, he won't be able to teleport us back to Vos." Thundercracker righted Skywarp before he could end up on his purple aft on the floor.
"Why do you have to ruin everything with your stupid logic, TC?" I spoke sulkily, and finished the remainder of my highgrade with much flinching, grimacing, and violent wing-jerking.
Thundercracker did not speak for a long moment, during which I grabbed another cube.
"Are you…okay, Starscream?" He asked, and I stared.
"Why?" I lifted up one of my brow-ridges, and sat up straighter. "I'm feeling perfectly fine. I'm not the one falling over in my chair and slurring like a glitched sparkling." Skywarp giggled at my comment, and murmured something incoherent. His cheek plates were flushed, and he had begun to hold a conversation with his empty cube. I was amazed that he had not started—
…He started to sing.
Thundercracker groaned, and hid his faceplate behind his hands. I only scrunched my nose bridge at the purple idiot as he waved a bunch of drunken grounders over, and urged them to join him in his singing. The sight of burly gladiators trying to learn the off-tuned melody of an old Vosian sparkling lullaby amused me long enough for me to finish my cube. However, there was only so much horrible singing one could take. When Skywarp staggered to stand on top of the table and began to bellow out a highly inappropriate song about the benefits of group interfacing, I quickly got up and left before the grounders could crowd me in like they did Thundercracker. My blue trine mate cried out after me and begged me to save him, but I only bounced away.
Thundercracker was going to be fine. Besides, someone had to make sure Skywarp did not end up doing some of the things he was currently trying to sing about.
Skipping out of the bar Skywarp had pulled us into, I looked up at the sky, and took a deep cycle of air through my intakes. The night cycle was approaching its end, though the day cycle had not yet begun. Deactivated mechs could still be seen, littered along the streets, but they were gradually being kicked off to the side or picked up to be melted down. In the distance, sounds of buildings collapsing could be heard. The lighting system had gone down for many sectors of the city, but the flames burning strong were bright enough to lighten the sky to a rich, red hue.
Perhaps the highgrade was loosening my inhibitions, but I could not stop grinning and waving at the ground pounders I was passing. They waved back, sometimes shouting out a greeting, but they all kept their distance. Many leered at me and looked over my frame with lustful optics, but none of them dared to come close to touch. They did not even voice out their perverse thoughts, only watching as I sauntered past them. Shrugging, I found that I did not care, since I was too happy to want to shoot anyone.
After a while of aimless walking, I became lost. Everywhere looked exactly the same: fire, dead bodies, debris, fallen buildings, mechs drinking, mechs interfacing, and mechs sprawled out on the ground from either too much drinking or too much interfacing, or possibly both. I frowned, a sliver of disgust at the sight floating across my spark before I got distracted by the thought of wondering where Megatron was. After all, he was my ally. Was he not supposed to be with me? How did I end up going to a bar and drinking highgrade from a cube like a common soldier?
Walking was taking too long at finding Megatron, so I took off, not bothering to transform into jet mode. While I was not yet completely off my equilibrium circuits, an alert had popped up at the back of my processors, alerting me of partial inebriation, which meant flying at top speed was not a good idea. After a breem of aimless floating around, I realized that I could simply comm. Megatron to locate him. Proud of my ingenuity, I quickly pinged him, and he answered only a klik after.
:Yes, Starscream?: His voice tickled my auditory receptors pleasantly, and my spark did a happy little flip inside my spark chamber.
I really loved hearing him say my designation.
:…You what?: He asked.
:Huh?:
:Nothing.: He paused a little. :What is it?:
:Where are you?: I did a lazy loop in the air, wings flicking up and down.
:I'm in the west sector of Kaon. I just picked a new location for my base of operations.:
:Oh, good,: I flippantly replied, :Your old one was horrid – underground and dank. I do hope you picked a tall building, one befitting of your title now that you hold a city like me, though yours still has an awfully long way to go before it can even dream of becoming as glorious and magnificent as mine.:
:You will be pleased to hear that I have, indeed, picked one of the tallest buildings.: He surprisingly did not sound irritated with my badmouthing at all.
:I want to see it.: I declared with a slow barrel roll.
:Turn around.: He simply said, and I frowned.
:What?:
:Turn around, and you will see me.:
I turned, squinting through the dark. At first, I did not spot anything from my altitude, but when I lifted my helm, I spotted him standing at the topmost floor of a half demolished building. Without another word, I shot off toward him. As I got closer, I saw, with great displeasure, that Soundwave was there as well, partially hidden in shadows.
I scowled at him even though I was too far away for him to see my expression. I still had not forgiven him for failing to inform me of his telepathic abilities, and did not particularly desire any further interactions with him in the future. Fortunately, it would seem that I did not have to. He quickly left after a few quiet words with Megatron. I did not know if Megatron had dismissed him, or he had excused himself, but no matter. He was gone, so I was satisfied.
"Your new base needs a lot of work, Megatron." I sent my gladiator a small smirk, slowing down to a hover right outside the broken windows. "You don't even have a roof." I gave the top of the building a pointed glance.
He stayed silent for a few kliks, giving me a slow once-over, and I fanned my wings out just to give him more to look at. "That can be easily remedied." He replied, optics bright in the dark as they found mine once again. "You are enjoying yourself." He did not ask a question, but I answered as if it were anyways.
"Yes, I am, which is quite a surprise." I floated closer until I stepped onto the floor, "I usually dislike such vulgar activities." I put on my prettiest smile, and walked toward him, swaying my hips and flicking my wings enticingly.
"You don't drink highgrade?" He asked, voice soft but retaining all of its rough texture.
"I do," I sent him a small, amused smile as I circled around him to take a better look around the room, "But what I normally drink is much more refined than the slag you put up with." I sent him a playful glance, very aware of his optics following my form as I strolled around the large chamber. "I also don't drink highgrade from cubes."
I felt him move. There was a faint sound of him detaching the fusion cannon and placing it down as he approached me from behind, the distance between us diminishing. My wings twitched, and my intakes hitched a little.
"Is that so?" He sounded distracted. I could feel waves of heat rolling off from his frame. His cooling fans whirred on, and my smile grew wider.
"Yes," I whispered, anticipation seizing my thumping spark. My wings gave a small twitch, and all my sensors soared to life as I felt his energy field brush against mine. "This was the first time I tried it." He stopped right behind me as my voice trailed off, and his hands ran along the bottom edges of my wings in a teasing caress.
My intakes gasped. My whole frame shivered.
His rough fingers continued to tickle my sensitive appendages. They reached my wing tips, and gave them a small pinch. I let out a soft whine, optics flickering offline as I bit my lips and pushed back against him. His thick plating was hot upon contact, yet I only pressed harder, hands reaching blindly for his body.
He pressed his palms flat against the expanse of my wings. They roamed inward, massaging the joints. I moaned, and my fingertips finally found the scratched, coarse plating of his thighs, leaving light, tentative touches. He let out a deep growl, the sound backed by the roar of his engine. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he yanked me harder against his frame, possessive in every manner.
Suddenly overcome by an unbearable surge of desire, I squirmed, and grinded my aft against his searing hot crotch-plate. He let out a low grunt, cooling fans blasting hot air against my flight sensors. He became much more aggressive, hands roaming over my form, caressing every curve, leaving nothing unclaimed. His fingers trailed down my canopy, and their tips pressed into the seams, making me shiver, vents huffing in laboured breaths as heat raced through my fuel lines.
His hands groped across my chassis, pinching my turbines. I whimpered, pleasure shooting across my neural network to settle deep in my core. My valve had already grown warm, clenching expectantly inside me. Arousal had never overwhelmed me at such a quick speed, and it was embarrassing. Wonderful, but embarrassing.
I squeezed my thighs together, and hoped that it would stop him from noticing how much his touch affected the boiling lust in my spark. But of course he noticed exactly what I did not want him to, reaching for my thighs and forcing his way between them when I refused to part them.
He gave my valve cover a firm rub, and I threw my helm back, a small cry leaving my lips. He repeated the motion, and my hips shifted on their own, encouraging him for more. Lubricant coated the walls of my valve, and heat spiked higher in my core. His fingers traced the edges of my valve cover, and left tingling sensations that burned as he dug into the seams.
"Open." He hissed, lips pressed against my right audial. His voice was even raspier and deeper than usual, lustful desire thickening its texture.
"M-Megatron…!" I huffed out, bending forward, and almost buckled as my knee joints became weak.
"Open, Starscream." His words gained an edge of command, a vicious snarl, and I could only whimper as my port cover twitched, sliding open with an audible snap.
I was so surprised that Megatron had managed to so easily expose my valve that it squeezed, walls quivering as they clenched together. Lubricant came dribbling out, sliding down along the insides of my thighs. I cursed, humiliated, and my cheek plates flamed into a full flush. However, there was nothing I could do to stop the heightened rush of lustful charge from washing over my frame, nor the shaky, breathy utterance of his designation from leaving my vocalizer.
Megatron chuckled, the sound dark and rumbling inside his chassis. His arms tightened further around me, a gesture of ownership, and he promptly lifted me off the ground, sweeping me into the air. With an undignified yelp, I almost fell forward, clutching onto him and intakes hitching. In three strides, we were across the room, and I was, without ceremony, slammed cockpit first against a wall.
My hands pressed flat against the rough surface, trying to elevate some of the pressure. I wiggled, peds dangling in the air, and kicked around in attempts to find the ground. Megatron would have none of that. He gave me another hard, forward shove. My cockpit glass squeaked as my chassis clashing against the wall, and I let out a cry, cheek plate flush against the cold, unforgiving structure.
One of his thighs nudged between my legs. It rose until it pressed right against the wet rim of my valve, and kept me suspended, straddled. I bit my lips, vents huffing out a strained breath. Lubricant continued to seep from my port, and it smeared, leaving a big mess over the plating of his thick limb.
Megatron made a sighing growl. With one arm kept around my waist, he pushed his other hand between my thighs, and made a teasing probe at my valve. I instantly hissed, back arching and intakes gasping to a stop. My valve quivered, more than ready to receive a penetrating finger, but he only traced its outer rim, movement slow and firm. He was stimulating the exterior sensor nodes in a most torturous manner, elevating my arousal yet not satisfying my need. I squirmed and whined, trying to push down, but his finger darted away just before I could sink it inside me, not allowing me even a sliver of satisfaction.
"F-Frag it, Megatron!" I was so hot and bothered that I was just about willing to do anything to make him stop his sadistic teasing. "Stop fooling around!" I cried out, and craned my neck backward, sending him a glare. I tried to scowl, but could only manage frustration. I would have reached down myself to relieve some of that unbearable burn, but the slagger had placed our position so that if I took even one of my hands from the wall, I would lose my balance. I hated feeling so helpless, so dependent on his whim. However, a small part of me, the perverse, treacherous part of my spark, positively sang in shameless bliss.
"Ask nicely, Starscream, and you will receive." His voice was low, and it was downright drenched in glee. I swore through gritted dentae, refusing to let him make a begging whore out of me. One of his fingers pushed into my valve, just enough for its blunt tip to swirl against the edges of my inner wall. I squealed, and desperation struck me so hard that coolant began to gather under my optics, accompanied by the uneven jerks of my wings.
I wanted to curse him.
My quivering lips fell apart.
However, curses were not what left them.
"…Mega-…tron…P-Please…Please…!" I let out a choked back whimper, grinding my hips down against his fingers. His engine roared, and vibrations shook all over my wings from his broad chassis. I could almost feel the searing burn of his spark, every bit as swollen and needy as mine.
"Please what, Starscream?" His intakes and vents were loud, making laboured noises of cycling air. His voice carried a thick weight, bitten out and harsh, and I knew, right away, that his control was hanging by a mere cable. Something inside my spark, a pressurized sense of stubbornness, snapped without a single thought of reservation. A thin whine left my vocalizer, and a torrent of pleas, unrestrained, flowed out of my lips.
"Oh Primus, Megatron—p-please! Please! In-Inside—" I whimpered, wiggling my aft and making a whorish display of myself.
"Inside me! Please, inside me! I need it!" I begged, wings twitching violently on my back.
"M-Megatron," I called his name, helm tossed back and thighs spread wide.
"I want you inside!" I cried out, "I want you inside! I want you—"
Heat.
Pressure.
In a single move, he pushed his finger to the hilt into my valve.
A loud wail erupted out of my vocalizer, and my sensors immediately lit aflame as they were stroked by his rough digit, searing in sensitivity and pleasure. He did not stop, thrusting in and out, and quickly added a second finger, stretching my shivering, wet port.
Any inhibition I might have had was flung out the window. I thrashed, optics flashing on and off as I met his movements with enthusiastic cries. A tidal wave of pleasure slammed through my sensory network, and I keened, trying my best to match his thrusts with uneven, awkward motions of my hips. He added a third finger, and I strained my hip joints to part my thighs further, an incoherent plea stuttering past my lips.
My valve was already starting to feel full. It throbbed a little. The last time I had let another mech anywhere near my interface equipment was vorns ago, and Megatron's fingers were much thicker and rougher than my own. However, a little discomfort was not going to discourage me. I only moaned louder, and urged him more by riding harder on his digits.
The charge building in my core was starting to expand, sending out surges of scorching heat. I was almost alarmed by how soon I was approaching my peak, but there was nothing I could do to stop its inevitable approach. Megatron wrapped his arm tighter around my waist, and heaved me up from his thigh for a better angle. His thrusts became faster and faster, and my cries quickly became louder, gaining in pitch until it was a shrill screech echoing in the large, half-demolished chamber.
"Oh Primus—Oh Primus!" I offlined my optics, lips hanging apart. My fingers clutched at the wall I was pressed deliciously against, and my thighs began to shake, jerking in spasms.
"Oh yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes-Yes—!" I wailed, "D-Don't stop! Oh Primus-be-damned, please don't stop! Please don't stop!"
I could feel the hard blasts of hot air from his fans against my flight sensors. I could taste in the air the tangy scent of the lubricant dribbling out of my valve, making his movements that much sweeter and faster. His fingers were slick against the clenching, trembling wall of my port, rubbing against the sensitive sensor nodes embedded within it. The pleasure was maddening, and I was stripped of all my higher processing abilities, arching my back and screaming out pleas from my most basic of instincts:
"M-Megatron! Megatron!"
Overload was approaching. I shrieked, voice gaining a whole tone higher as my hands grasped wildly for anything to hold onto other than the flat surface of the wall. "Megatron! I-I'm going to—I'm going to-"
"Do it, Starscream." His snarling voice bit against my right audial, "Let everyone in Kaon know who has rendered you into a begging, wanton mess!"
A hard thrust, and I saw static. Mouth wide and agape, I screamed, entire frame seizing up in violent spasms, helm thrown back and wings stretched high. My valve squeezed, trembling around his digits. Lubricant came spurting out from within it, and splattered all over his thigh.
"Megatron!" I screamed, shamelessly announcing the designation of the ground pounder who had pushed me over into the most brutal of overloads I have had in vorns. "Megatron—!" I saw a blinding flash of white light, and, for a long moment, I could do nothing other than reel in ecstasy as pleasure convulsed through my body.
Megatron continued the motions with his hand, riding me down from the processor-stalling peak I had reached. All strength left my limbs as my intakes gulped in cycles of air, and I slumped forward against the wall, entire weight supported by my ground pounder alone. My valve gave one last quivering clenched, and I sighed, a shivering moan leaving my worn vocalizer. He slowly took his fingers out, wrapping them around my hips before he squeezed, smudging lubricant all over my plating.
As my processing power gradually returned, I realized with great embarrassment that I had overloaded before Megatron even unsheathed his spike. Regaining my motor skills, I reached back, and gingerly rested a palm over his blisteringly hot crotch-plate. His intakes hissed as he let out a low grunt. I smirked, and rubbed my fingers against the sensitive plating, squirming a little in his hold.
"…I did not say you can touch me, Starscream." He growled in a warning manner, and I sent out a scoff from my vents.
"You should be glad I'm even considering touching you in the first place, Megatron." I spoke with much haughtiness, half a sneer forming on my faceplate. "Trust me," I tossed a glance over my right wing, "It's not an easy task to overcome the many faults of your hideous appearance to be intimate with you."
"Intimate?" His fingers tightened around my hip plating, and I winced as he dented the soft metal. "There's nothing intimate about a frag." He bit out, tone sharp-edged and malicious.
I visibly flinched, an icy stab of pain piercing through my spark. I could not move or think, disbelief rendering me completely speechless and silent. I was limp as a puppet from shock alone, and he used my rare moment of seeming docility to flip me around. He settled us down onto the dirty floor, me on my back and him on top, and I stared up at him, lips parted and expression frozen to that of dismay.
I could feel coolant stinging the bottom edges of my optics. Hurt was starting to seep through my spark. However, no matter how hard I tried, I could not even gather enough will to be angry with him, or his statement.
Megatron looked down at me. At first, his faceplate was blank and devoid of emotion. Aside from the haze of desire, he was closed off, optics bright but betraying nothing. However, as we continued to stare at each other, he started to frown, as though he could not understand why I was so offended by what he had said.
"This…is equivalent to the solidification of our alliance, is it not?" He asked, gaze carrying more confusion than his voice.
That confusion hurt, so I forced my optics away, and shakily answered in a breath of a voice:
"…Of-Of course…"
I saw him study my faceplate from my peripheral vision.
After a while, he finally replied:
"What else can it be, Starscream?"
He whispered, and I could no longer stand the sight of him, not even from the corners of my optics.
I offlined my vision, and kept still. A few moments passed, I felt him lean down, our energy fields brushing together before one of his hands cradled the side of my helm with a gentleness I did not expect. He kissed me, a firm, goading gesture by his lips. However, still, it took him several kliks just to convince me to join him.
Our glossas intertwined together in a slow dance. I let out a soft moan, arms reaching to wrap around his shoulders and pulling him closer.
I buried that hurt, because he was right.
What else could this possibly be?
His other hand trailed down along my frame, and eventually reached my valve. He pressed his fingers inside, and I whimpered as he rubbed at the sensor nodes, stirring my core back to arousal. He thrust his fingers in slow, long strokes, completely sheathing them before pulling them out at a steady pace. I moved my hips in accordance to his movements, intakes gasping as a potent, deep desire once again awoke inside me.
When he parted from our kiss and pulled out his fingers, I protested with a needy whine. He chuckled a little, but he did not return to his previous administrations as I had hoped he would. I felt him move downward, both hands roaming over my chassis, and then my waist. I curled my lips as I felt him leave trails of lubricant all over my cockpit, but before I could snap at him to stop defiling my impeccable appearance, he pressed his hands flat on the insides of my thighs, and spread them wide open.
Startled, I onlined my optics, and peered down. Energon instantly swarmed to my cheek-plates when I realized just what he was planning to do.
Megatron held my thighs apart, and his helm hovered right between them. My valve was completely exposed, and he was staring at it with such concentrated, perverse hunger that I would have scrambled away if I could. I tried to close my thighs, but he held them firmly in his hands. I wiggled and whined in embarrassment. My hands reached down in attempts to shield my interface equipment from his bright, flashing optics. However, one hard look from those bright, flashing optics immediately halted me in mid-reach, before he even said a single word.
"Stay still." He commanded, and I realized with much frustration that my frame obeyed before my processors could even give active consent. I only watched, half morbid and half aroused with fascination as he descended to my valve, and opened his lips. His glossa extended, less than a wingtip from my expectant, well-lubricated port. The sight was so vulgar that I almost offlined my optics and hid my faceplate behind my hands, but before I could, he gave my valve a long, firm lick, and I keened, back arching off the ground with a loud gasp from my intakes.
His glossa traced the outer rim, poking at the sensor nodes, and I shivered, biting down hard on my lips to stop a whimper from leaving them. My thighs shook as more lubricant seeped out of my valve, and he lapped them up, not missing a single drop. His optics shined, penetrating the darkness of the almost roofless room as he serviced me in the most degrading way a mech could. Yet, somehow, incomprehensively, he held complete control over my frame.
I tried to push my valve closer to his mouth, but his fingers clenched around my thighs, leaving aching sensations. I whined, and let out a sigh, helm flopping back to rest on the floor and optics offlining. Defeated, I could only allow him to do whatever he wanted as he suckled and licked at one of the most intimate parts of my body. The only thing left for me to do was encourage him by moans and whimpers, and hope that he was not in the mood for sadistic teasing much longer.
Megatron poked his glossa into my valve, flicking its tip against the inner sensor nodes, and I whimpered, clutching at the floor. He sucked against the rim, and I huffed out needy pleas, vents panting in heated breaths. He spread my thighs further apart, and lapped up the thick layer of lubricant coating my port. I cried out, hips shifting as I begged him to never stop, the lustful charge inside my core growing stronger and stronger by each passing klik.
He suddenly leaned away, and I gave a protesting whine, wiggling my aft in an inviting manner. When he did not even acknowledge me, I onlined my optics, and was greeted with the sight of his interface panel retracting. His spike pressurized, hard and proud in its impressive size, and I felt my lips fall open, optics widening. Its tip glistened with transfluid, and a drop slid down along its length, dipping slightly as it encountered each ridge lined with sensor nodes.
I was not familiar with ground pounder frame types and their spike sizes, but Megatron was definitely proportional in that department.
I would have been terrified at the prospect of having that big thing penetrate my valve if it were not for the fact that there was not going to be any penetrating happening. There were other ways to please a mech's spike, and I was still not sure whether I was proud or not that I was proficient in at least one of them. However, that mattered little at the moment. Megatron has been more than considerate in pleasuring me without tending to his needs himself, and I was not so selfish as to not repay that generosity with some incentive.
I licked my lips, and sent him a heated gaze of erotic invitation as I waited for him to release my thighs. He did not. He aligned his spike to my valve instead, and pressed its tip against the opening of my port.
My optics flew wide.
"W-Wait!" I shouted, scrambling as I pushed myself up onto my elbows, and stared at him with an expression of shock, "What do you think you're doing?!"
He gave me a flat stare, not saying a word.
"No, I-I mean—…" The tip of his spike rubbed against the exterior sensor nodes of my valve, and, as thick tendrils of desire squeezed around my spark, I almost forgot why I had stopped him from spiking me for a moment.
I quickly shook my processors clear, cheek-plates flushing hotter. "I-I—…I'm not—…You can't!"
"I've already prepared you, Starscream." He replied, optics narrowing as he bit his jaw joints. I could tell his control was slipping. His arms were outright trembling as he forced himself to pause, to not plunge into my valve in one, smooth thrust.
"No, y-you don't…understand," I spluttered, struggling weakly under him and averting my optics. "I—…I can't—"
He cut in with a frustrated sigh, vents blasting hot air against my chassis.
"I have yet deactivated a mech by spiking him." He growled out, voice carrying an almost threatening texture. I felt his energy field flare with irritation, and wanted to cower away.
"Th-That's not what I—…" I stuttered, making a fool of myself as I tried to explain. Megatron must have been unbearably charged, for he made an annoyed grunt, and shifted his hips back in preparation to thrust into me regardless of my stalling. Terrified alarm shot though my spark in an instance. I pushed against his chassis, and let out such a loud screech that he immediately flinched away, spitting out a string of profanities as one of his hands shot up to rub against his audials.
"What's wrong with you?!" His voice was thunderous in the quiet room. He glowered down at me, lips curled in a frightening scowl. Shadows created deep creases in his faceplate, and his optics were like flaming smelting pits, bearing down and cutting straight to my spark.
I whimpered in fear.
My lips quivered.
I looked down at his spike, still positioned right in front of my valve. It was so stiff and thick, throbbing with heat and arousal. A dribble of lubricant slid down along the sensitive rim of my valve, and I shook, moaning brokenly, torn between squirming away and begging him to drive his spike into me to the hilt with one thrust.
"Just…lay still, Starscream." Megatron took a deep cycle of air, and instructed. His faceplate was scrunched in an expression of near pain as he spoke, voice gruff and hoarse, and I had never felt more admiration toward his sheer strength of will than at that moment.
"But—"
"-I'll be gentle!" He bit out, looking thoroughly embarrassed to be promising such a thing. It would have been funny, but all I do was cry out in protest as he tried to spike me once again.
"-No! No—!" I kicked my peds frantically as I tried to struggle out of his hands. "I-I can't!" I squeaked like an upset sparkling, and whimpered in shame when I felt my movements cause more lubricant to squirt out of my valve.
Megatron finally lost his last bit of tolerance toward my behaviour.
"My patience is not without limit, Starscream!" He roared, and pinned my thrashing thighs still. "Stop moving or it will hurt!"
"No—!" I shrieked, punching at his chassis and bucking from the floor. "P-Please! Don't do it! I can't—…I can't—"
Optics offlining, I blurted out my reason in a miserable wail:
"I can't let anyone spike me!"
-and hid my faceplate behind my hands, waiting for the impending doom of being slagged by a charged and angry ground pounder.
Megatron froze. He kept his firm hold on me, but he did not move a single joint in his frame. We remained in our compromising position, me lying spread out wantonly beneath him and his spike hard and ready at my dripping valve. The silence grew long, and it became so awkward that my wings had begun to shake against the floor, making an odd, buzzing sound amidst the stillness of the half demolished room. My flight sensors hurt as the rough texture of the floor grazed against them, but I did not dare utter a single complaint, not when I was more vulnerable than I could ever be, right in the clutch of a gladiator.
An eternity must have passed, but still, Megatron did nothing. I tentatively peeked through my fingers, and saw his dark faceplate looming over me with an unreadable expression on his features. His optics were still piercingly bright. His lips were pressed tightly together in a downward line. His brow-ridges were in a frown, and heat rolled off from his plating, almost creating steam in the cool, night air.
"…I-…" My voice was high and light. I could not decipher his expression, so I assumed that he wanted an explanation. "I…have to…" I made a face and let out a strangled groan. "I have to remain in tact until I spark-merge, Megatron!" I turned my helm away. "It's—…It's a Vosian custom that I must abide to!" I bit my lips, and tried to force the burn in my cheek plates away as I stuttered on, "…But we could—…p-perhaps…" I could not finish my suggestion, and trailed off, voice dwindling to nothing.
Silence once again reigned over us. However, despite the uncomfortable situation, neither of us lost the desire still burning wildly in our sparks. The last shred of self-control I had was beginning to slip, especially with the tip of his spike so firm and hot against the soft, yielding folds of my valve. The scent of our mingled fluids was strong in the air, creating a heavy, musky tinge hovering around us. The joint sound of our whirring cooling fans was the only thing breaking the quiet, tense atmosphere. My thighs periodically shivered. His fingers were still tightly wrapped around them, keeping them in place.
I knew Megatron was watching me, but I was too much of a coward to look back at him. I felt his hands jolt a little before giving my thighs a caress. However, to my surprise, he actually leaned away. At the loss of heat from his spike against my port, I bit my lips, stopping the whimper of disappointment from spilling out of my vocalizer. I thought he was simply shifting to place us in a different position, but he leaned away altogether, hands falling from my thighs.
Prompted by confusion, I lowered my hands from my faceplate, and sent him an inquiring gaze. He was moving back onto his peds, and I realized, with a start, that he was preparing to stand up. My intakes hitched in a small gasp. My fuel pump skipped a beat. I immediately reached out with a hand, and grabbed him by the arm.
"What are you doing?" I asked, staring at him, wide-opticked.
He did not reply, expression still unreadable.
"Where—…Where are you going?" I insisted, fingers curling tighter around his arm.
He stared back at me a while longer, until a nasty sneer suddenly tore through the false calm on his expression.
"…Get out…" He hissed, and pointedly turned his helm away so he no longer had to look at me.
My spark ran cold, and I was certain I had heard wrong.
"…What…?" My voice shook as I hesitantly asked.
"…Get. Out." He gritted through his dentae, completely unmoving in his half-crouched position in front of me.
I shook my helm, my spark shriveling in confusion and hurt. I tried to reach him with my other hand, calling out to him with a wavering voice:
"…M-Megatron—"
"Get out!" His sudden, explosive roar startled me so much that I immediately balked from him and scrambled away. His optics burned with such intensity that light crackled out of his optics like flames from the smelting pits. I had never seen him so furious before, not even when he had battled opponents in the arena. I could not, by my spark, figure out just why he was suddenly so mad.
He stood up as soon as I scurried out of his sight, frame trembling with rage. He turned his back on me with an abrupt jerk, and clenched his large fists, fingers digging into his palms. He strode for the other side of the chamber, until his hulking form was half covered in shadow. The lack of light made every injury he still sustained appear even more jagged and deep, yet he barely seemed to notice them, consumed as he was by a fury that made his energy field flare like lightning clouds.
I skidded away, wings twitching in wariness, and watched him with round, cautious optics. His cooling fans whirred even louder than before, and his engine growled in a menacing manner. I did not know if I should simply fly away or stay and try to figure out what was bothering him. I felt as though I should speak to him, to salvage something intangible. However, my vocalizer had frozen, not willing to make a sound.
"I told you to leave, Starscream." His voice was so sharp and hard-edged that it cut through the air like a hot blade, straight through my spark. I did not understand why he was so angry. What have I done that warranted such an aggressive reaction? There were other ways to frag around without the actual fragging part, and Skyfire had not minded, so why would he?
Besides, Megatron should be eternally thankful that I had allowed him to touch me in this manner to begin with. Primus-damn-it, he should beg to lick my peds for my lenience toward him sticking his fingers into my interface port! How dare he make a fool out of me like this, barking at me to get out as though I was nothing more than a cheap prostitute?! I was the Crown Prince of Vos, and no one, no one, was allowed to treat me with such blatant disrespect.
My hands shook as they curled into fists. My wings flicked unevenly on my back. Humiliated indignation burst aflame inside me, and overtook my throbbing spark in an instance. Dentae biting together, I snarled, glaring at the broad back of the glitched slagger of a ground pounder in front of me. My null rays gave a sharp whine as they activated, and I had every intention of shooting the rusty bucket-helm in the back.
However, even as I sent the command for my arms to rise, to take aim, none of my cables moved. Something was holding me back, and that fueled my frustrated infuriation even further.
"You will address me with your faceplate, Megatron!" I screeched, stomping down one of my thrusters against the floor, "How dare you dismiss me in such a manner!"
He did not even move a single finger, and my anger combusted inside my spark chamber, the energon in my fuel lines boiling to critical levels.
"You ungrateful fragger!" I screamed, voice high-pitched and shrill. "I let you touch me!" I must have pushed my vocalizer too far, for it broke mid-sentence, and cut to static.
The only indication that he heard me was a small jerk from one of his fists.
"Megatron!" I shrieked at him.
However, still…
There was no reply.
My jaw joints ached from the sheer force with which I gritted my dentae. My spark constricted, writhing in such agony that coolant had begun to rise in my optics as I fumed on my peds and waited for him, desperately, to say something, anything.
But he did not.
He stood painfully still, as though he could not trust himself to move, and kept silent. Coolant finally fell, and I swore, furiously wiping them away.
"Fine," I hissed, and shot him the most malicious glare I could muster even though he could not see it. "You will never lay another finger on me again, Megatron!" I shouted with all my might, and turned sharply on my heels, valve cover snapping closed. I walked toward the broken windows, spark quivering and knees threatening to buckle under the rage and shame I felt. "I hate you!" I screamed into the sky as I promptly transformed, and took off, engines screeching as I shot through the air in jet mode.
I did not know if he had turned around and was watching me fly away as he had done the first time we met, but just in case he was, I made sure he would not be able to tell how much my pride had suffered.
My wings still spoke volumes about the turbulence in my spark, but no grounder could read a flier while in alt-mode.
I flew away at top speed, careless of where I was going. I was sparklessly played and thrown away like a worthless whore, and I felt dirty, used, and betrayed. I had not allowed any mech to so intimately hold me since Skyfire, yet Megatron, the despicable fragger, simply tossed me aside just because I would not let him take my seal. To make matters worse, what gave me even more contempt and fury was not even him, but myself, and that I had actually allowed this whole thing to happen in the first place.
How could I have been so stupid?! I had known ever since the beginning that he did not give a slag about me, and yet I—…still…continued to willingly participate in this twisted, perverse game that I was destined to lose. For frag's sakes, I had practically thrown myself onto him! Of course he would treat me like I was worth nothing! Why would he do otherwise, when it was me who'd offered, legs spread and port displayed?
My wings quivered, and I hastily pinged Thundercracker, intakes stuttering. My spark almost collapsed in hurt when his gentle, soothing voice came through the comm.-line, and reached my audials.
:Star?: My emotions must have trickled through our trine bond. :Star, what's wrong?: He asked, voice soft and concerned, and I had to bite back the sobs that threatened to spill over.
:Where are you?: I said instead.
:Just outside the bar we were in,: Thundercracker made an exasperated sigh with his vents. :Skywarp finally keeled over after all the highgrade he drank. He purged his tank for almost a whole joor, and he's unconscious now, so I took him outside. Hopefully, the night air will cool his circuits. He's overheating a lot.:
:Oh…: I replied, processors too scrambled to come up with anything else as I continued to fly around aimlessly.
:Where are you?: Thundercracker probed slightly out of worry alone, :What happened?:
:Something that will never happen again.: My voice stammered a little, and I ignored his first question.
:…Star?: Thundercracker inquired. I could almost imagine his frowning faceplate, and I laughed, making humourless huffs.
:You were right, TC.: My voice was bitter as I spoke, the potent ache in my spark strong and persistent. :I should've never gone to Kaon that night cycle, to that pit fight.:
I took in a shuddering cycle of air, and ex-vented in a sigh.
:If I hadn't gone that night…then…
:…then things wouldn't be as how they are now.:
Thundercracker did not speak for several kliks. I knew he was surprised. After all, I seldomly admitted to any faults I had committed.
:…Come find us, Star,: Thundercracker finally answered, tone warm and comforting. :You know where we are. We will wait for you.: He paused. :Well, I'm waiting. Skywarp is just lying here.:
I scoffed with my vents. However, the sound was nowhere near as sarcastic as how they usually are.
:So…I will see you soon?: My blue trine mate prompted, and I sighed again.
:Affirmative. Starscream, out.: I turned off my comm., and abruptly changed my flight path.
Sometimes all I had was my trine. Or rather, sometimes all I had was Thundercracker. If he were to ever drop out of my life, I honestly would not know what to do.
I flew around buildings, and, before long, the bar came into view. A number of ground pounders were staggering out of it, stumbling into each other and tripping over their own peds. There were a lot more of them sprawled out on the ground, though, recharging away the highgrade in their systems. The party had finished. The night cycle had ended, and it was time to go home.
Thundercracker looked up as soon as I cleared the last building, and gave me a small smile. I transformed, landing quietly on the street, and walked toward him, not quite meeting his gaze.
It was time to go home, but because of a certain purple idiot who chose the most inconvenient of times to be overcharged and offline, we could not.
All we could do was wait, three Seekers stuck in the worst pit on Cybertron, far from our Vos and its glowing, tall towers.
"Come, Starscream," Thundercracker beckoned me over. "Sit beside me." He patted the large chunk of metal he was currently perched on, expression pleasant and inviting. Debris hardly made a good seat, and this one was obviously once a part of a wall. However, I was too tired complain, and simply flopped down beside him the first instance I could.
Glancing to Thundercracker's other side, I found an open-mouthed Skywarp lying on the rest of the broken wall, limbs spread-eagled and vents making spluttering noises. "How long is he going to recharge for?" I wanted to sneer, but I was too emotionally spent to conjure such expression, so I sulked instead, and sent Skywarp a weak glare.
"Hopefully not that much longer," Thundercracker answered. He placed a hand on Skywarp's helm, and gently rubbed.
A comfortable silence settled between us. I leaned back to rest against the wall of the bar, and offlined my optics. A few breems passed, and I was on my way to entering light recharge when I felt Thundercracker move, shifting on the debris beside me. I thought he wanted to say something, but he did not, and the silence stretched on. Several kliks passed. Still, he said nothing. Curious, I onlined my vision, and caught him staring at me with worried, widened optics.
"Star—…" He began, but immediately stopped. I was blissfully unaware and confused until I decided to figure out what he was looking at, and followed his gaze downward.
Only then did I realize he was staring at the half dried lubricant coating my thighs.
Shame and humiliation returned with a vengeance. I hissed as though blistered, and instantly crossed my legs, optics offlining. I tried to turn away, but a firm hand on my thighs stopped me. I almost jumped, and when I finally gathered the courage to re-online my optics, I found Thundercracker holding out a cleaning cloth, a concerned, but kind smile on his face.
"Let me." He whispered, optics in a soft glow. He did not insist. He did not judge. He simply wanted to help me, and his support was unconditional.
He only wanted to wipe me clean, and that was because he cared.
My frame began to shake, but I parted my thighs as asked. He reached between them, and carefully dabbed away the lubricant soiling my white plating. He did not look even a little disgusted, expression almost serene as he cleaned up the mess, the mess I had made. His movements were calm, and he rubbed little circles, making sure to not miss a single stain.
Coolant pooled in my optics, and once again fell. It dropped onto my cockpit glass, and slid down, mixing into the lubricant Megatron had smeared over my orange-tinted canopy. Thundercracker noticed that as well, and dutifully rubbed it away, movements delicate and careful. When tears continued to wash down my cheek-plates, he put his cleaning cloth aside, and gently brushed away the clear droplets. He held my faceplate in his hands, and did not say a word even as I soundlessly cried, wings trembling behind me.
He did not ask any questions. He only held me when my intakes began to hitch, and I could no longer hold his gaze.
I offlined my optics, and leaned toward him, helm falling to his shoulder. Thundercracker scooted a little closer, and wrapped an arm across my back, rubbing the bottom edges of my wings.
"I'm sure Skywarp will wake up soon," He spoke to comfort, voice gentle and warm against my left audial, "And we will return home, to Vos."
I only nodded, and clutched onto him.
We sat in silence, and simply waited for the beginning of a new cycle.
Notes: Come now, you didn't honestly think things were going to be that easy for Starscream and Megatron, did you? ;)
Once again, special big thanks to reviewers: Starcee138, cerebral-mess, Random523, lildevchick, Ashcola17, Koluno1986, Guest, The-writing-Mew, Deathtomushrooms, Cjade, rj545, MegaScream-Love, PwnKage, Guest, Cloud Kitsune17 (I'm glad you checked out the link and found the show adorable! I thought Yuuta was a girl at first too, haha!), aki. vn, Guest, Devlinn Reiko, KrazyMusician, and Tolaya! Hearing from you really made my day!
Hmm, to be honest, I'm not really sure what to recapitulate here. I feel like a lot has happened, but I'd rather hear what you guys think about it, haha!
Please leave me a review! And thank you very much for reading. : )
PS: You should really check out "Brave Police J-Decker". It's super cute, and it expands on robots as sentient beings. It's all on youtube as well.