Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1. Filming/Photography (G1 Thundercracker/Reflector)

2. Frame Modifications (ES Nova Storm/Skywarp)

3. Gags (G1 Starscream/Skyfire)

4. Roleplay (G1 Jazz/Prowl)

5. Wet and Messy (G1 Rainmakers)

6. Blindfolds (G1 Skywarp/Starscream)

7. Sex Toys (G1 Mirage/Hound)

8. Fisting (IDW Rodimus Prime/Drift)

9. Spike Worship (G1 Starscream/Skyfire)

10. Oviposition (G1 Megatron/Trine)

11. Autobot/Decepticon (Starscream/Bumblebee) (Request)

12. Edging (SG Shockwave/Starscream) (Request)

13. Tentacles (TFP Soundwave/Shockwave)

14. Free Use (TF1 Sentinel Prime)

15. Hate Sex (ES Megatron/Starscream)

16. Voyeurism (G1 Soundwave/Trine)

17. Valve Worship (G1 Thundercracker/Skywarp)

18. Bondage (IDW Prowl/Tarantulas) (Request)

19. Alt Form Sex (G1 Megatron/Optimus Prime)

20. Monsterfucking (Bayverse Grimlock/Starscream)

21. Phone Sex (IDW Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker)

22. Size Difference (G1 Starscream/Sunstorm)

23. Sex Pollen (TFP Shockwave/Soundwave) (Request)

24. Stuck (G1 Skywarp)

25. Size Kink (G1 Starscream/Skyfire) (Request)

26. Electricity Play (TFP Starscream)

27. Anonymous Sex (TFP Knockout/Trine)

28. Knife Play (G1 Starscream/Soundwave)

29. Minicons (G1 Skywarp/Rumble)

30. Femmedom (ES Trine)

31. Wild Card! (G1 Optimus Prime/Skywarp)

Chapter Text

Adjusting the camera for the thousandth time, Thundercracker muttered in dissatisfaction, EM field flaring with nervousness. The lens cycled as the focusing ring moved on its own, tracking the seeker. Digits traced over the lens housing, from the glass lens's edge to the camera's base. The plating that was touched clicked as it shuddered.

“Ready?” Viewfinder’s voice popped from the camera, with the voices of his other components, Spyglass and Spectro, echoing quietly underneath.

“You sure this won’t get posted anywhere?” Thundercracker asked, wings tilting down just a smidge.

“Why would I share anything of you with those losers?” Viewfinder joked as the aperture ring adjusted. When Thundercracker didn’t laugh, the camera continued in a more serious tone. “This is going on private storage banks. Won’t even leave our processors. Now if you want to see the picture we’d have to make a secure comm line.”

“No thanks. I’m not interested,” Thundercracker answered quickly.

“Then lean back and let us direct,” Viewfinder’s voice melded with his other components until it became the familiar resonance of Reflector. Thundercracker’s EM field finally settled as he let his weight drop back onto the berth.

The sound of transformation seams unlocking had Thundercracker tilting his helm up, seeing a tripod form under the camera from where it still rested at the end of the berth. The leg-like appendages moved left and right, the camera lens swinging to survey.

“Spread your legs and bend your knees so the light hits better, if you want,” Reflector tacked on the last bit. Thundercracker shuffled one more time to get comfortable and moved his pedes, bringing them closer to his frame and letting his knees drop apart. The sound of a shutter clicking made him tense for a moment, before relaxing.

Thundercracker did approach Reflector about this some days ago, and the two finally had a night off to try this. The idea of something so intimate being permanently recorded was both terrifying and thrilling, and who better to trust than a camera?

“Self-service often?” Reflector suddenly asked.

“Don’t have time,” Thundercracker admitted, shyness ebbing away when he heard another click.

“Go through the motions, pretend I’m not here,” Reflector instructed. “But use your manual switch.”

Thundercracker let his helm rest on the berth, optics dimming as his servo dipped between his legs. The panels were already warm as his digits skimmed over the metal barrier. He took a few moments to tease himself, tracing the rim and dipping his digits into the hip seams to touch wires. It did take a moment to find the manual release as Thundercracker preferred the internal command, but barely grazing the correct wire had the valve panel snapping back, accompanied by the sound of a string of multiple photos being taken.

“We’ll get to do this again another time right?” Reflector questioned, voice staticky as if they were the ones being teased relentlessly. “Spyglass is getting plenty of ideas for positions and angles.”

“Mhm,” Thundercracker hummed. “Absolutely we’re doing this again.”

Chapter Text

Maybe it was for the best that Skywarp took the leap of faith first for both of them. Frame alterations never were cheap on Cybertron, and finding a reputable mech to do it took time and typically had a long waiting list. It was pure luck Skywarp found a cosmetic medic, a friendly one at that, who would do the work for some stolen energon. Sure there wasn’t a great deal of parts on the organic planet called Earth, but the seekers weren’t adding plating, just removing.

So once Skywarp got the modifications and successfully survived it, her companion went next. While Skywarp only wanted a frame change, her wingmate wanted to revamp everything; from paint to designation. 

“Show me show me show me,” Skywarp chanted, twirling on her pede tips as her companion flew into view. While at first disappointed that she couldn’t wait around or hover as the medic worked, Skywarp ended up being excited for the surprise reveal. The sleek black and yellow fighter jet hovered for just a moment before transforming. While there were major differences, Skywarp could see the familiarity of her wingmate under all the new curves and colors.

“You’re gorgeous!” Skywarp could barely keep her servos to herself as she touched her wingmate, from the vents on the chassis to the polished orange cockpit. “Pick a designation yet?”

“Nova Storm,” the seeker spoke softly. “Seemed fitting.”

“So fitting,” Skywarp echoed the sentiment. She looped her arms around Nova Storm’s waist, bringing her close and silently enjoying the fact they were now an equal height. “Want to test ride the new frames?”

Nova Storm’s red optics tracked the area, seeing that the train yard full of storage containers was empty, before looking back at Skywarp and smirking.

The two newly reformed femmes found themselves doing their best to hide between containers, with Nova Storm leaning back on one of the metal boxes and Skywarp on her knees in front; glossa making quick work over the spike before her. Nova Storm let out a noise, servo gripping the back of Skywarp’s helm to push her down onto the spike in one quick motion.

“Slag. I think your intake got tighter,” Nova Storm groaned, hips bucking to push the spike deeper down Skywarp’s intake. The seeker took it in stride, optics shuttering as she sucked on the spike. Nova Storm used her other servo to feel over Skywarp’s helm finials, gripping one tightly to direct her better. Nova Storm’s wings clattered against the metal container as she overloaded, pushing Skywarp’s face against the base of her hip plating as transfluid shot out.

After a few moments, Skywarp moved, sucking as she pulled off the spike to get the last drops of transfluid. She licked her lips as she looked up at Nova Storm, optics bright with charge.

“Think you can handle a little more?” Skywarp purred, leaning back to show off her leaking pressurized spike. Wordlessly, Nova Storm knelt, servo guiding her wingmate to lay flat on the concrete.

Chapter Text

Really, Starscream was very content with the pace he and Skyfire were going when it came to interfacing. Sure it took all day having a false spike shoved up his valve to be able to fit Skyfire’s spike at the end of the night, but it was worth it. Plus it scratched that persistent itch of wanting something a little more daring in the berth. Skyfire was so big yet never threw his weight around, and the one time Starscream suggested choking Skyfire looked close to tears. Upset over the thought of potentially hurting his smaller partner.

“Honestly,” Starscream began one evening, dangling the toy from one claw tip. “This is nothing.”

Skyfire wasn’t looking at Starscream, but rather the object in servo. “It won’t hurt?”

“Not at all. It’s rubber and silicon.” Starscream took the toy in both servos now, stretching the band to show how much give it had. “I do enjoy my metal one better but we’re starting easy.”

“Easy?” Skyfire warily looked at his partner. Starscream sighed, wings tilting down just slightly.

“Look. It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’re always the one going on and on about mutual consent,” Starscream spoke as he tossed the toy onto the counter. “I’m happy with what we have. As long as it’s with you.”

“Well,” Skyfire trailed off. The shuttle reached for the toy, and Starscream felt a jolt shoot down his back strut. “I just worry about hurting you. It won’t hurt you?”

“Not at all,” Starscream reassured once more. Skyfire twisted the band in his servos, really pulling at it to test the limits.

“Ok,” Skyfire agreed. “But we go my pace.”

“Of course of course,” Starscream readily agreed, taking some steps closer to Skyfire. His larger partner smiled, servo reaching up to trace Starcream’s jaw. A digit drew across the lips before pressing, encouraging Starscream's mouth to open.

“Pretty,” Skyfire praised, getting Starscream to melt into the touch. The ball of the band was placed into the mouth, snugly fitting against the dente and opening the jaw further. If Starscream wanted, he could bite down and bend the bouncy material without hurting his dente, and the corners of his mouth didn’t ache as it would from the metal gag he preferred.

Skyfire reached around his helm, snapping the gag in place. There was no key or lock as it was a simple rubbery band that stretched into place. If Starscream panicked, which he wouldn’t, he could tear it away.

“Comfortable?” Skyfire asked, petting Starscream’s helm. The seeker relaxed into the touch, a purr resonating from his vocalizer. Skyfire chuckled, digits brushing over the lips wrapped around the ball.

“I have to say it does look good on you,” Skyfire whispered. “Though I’ll miss your pretty moans.”

Starscream spoke muffled words but was cut off as Skyfire picked him up, beginning to carry him to the berth.

“Guess I’ll have to try really hard to make you scream,” Skyfire grinned as he laid Starscream onto the sheets.

Chapter Text

Prowl should stop letting himself be so swayed by Jazz, but all it took was being brought a cube of energon after an exhausting shift and a nice door wing massage to be convinced to do the silliest things.

Silly was not a word usually in Prowl’s vocabulary, but when it came to Jazz it was the only fitting word.

“I don’t see the appeal of this,” Prowl deadpanned, keeping his arms crossed even as Jazz tugged at them.

“You’re missing out. I think it gets the engines nice and revved,” Jazz gave one of his dazzling grins that made Prowl’s door wings twitch and optics avert to avoid being dragged further into the hypnotizing blue. The spy was able to slip a servo in and undo Prowl’s arms, digits adding different pressures to release the tension in the limbs. “We can stop at any point, but can we at least try?”

Prowl sighed, shaking his helm and he looked down. He took a moment to pull himself into character, door wings going taunt. They had talked about what ‘scene’ to enact, choosing something Prowl would be fitting in. Prowl looked up at Jazz, frame rigid into an old familiar posture. Jazz was still giving him a goofy grin.

“Civilian Jazz, I’m afraid my warning of breaking into my quarters has reached the limit. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say will be held against you.” Prowl moved quickly, seizing Jazz’s servos and spinning him around, pinning them to his back. Prowl took out the stasis cuffs he had packed earlier from his subspace, hooking them to Jazz’s wrists and rendering him slightly incapacitated.

“Oh Enforcer Prowl,” Jazz purred, wiggling his arms. “I know one thing I want held against me.”

“Cease your insolent perversion and hold still,” Prowl ordered, disappointed slightly when Jazz didn’t listen.

“There must be something I can do to earn your forgiveness,” Jazz half-sung, his own door wings twitching excitedly. The immediate need to correct Jazz that no, there is nothing that would get him out of trouble, was pushed down. This was supposed to lead to something more scandalous and the imagery of all the things Prowl could order Jazz to do flashed through his battle tac.

The swiftest strategy entailed placing a soft kick to the back of Jazz’s knees, forcing him to kneel on the floor. This only seemed to spur the other one more, as Jazz squirmed into a better position. Prowl took the time to slowly circle him, stopping once in front. The spy was still smiling; inviting, open, and prone. Circuits buzzed in nervousness, but Prowl knew this was just a silly game and didn’t need to be taken too seriously.

“If you follow my instructions then I’ll decrease the severity of your punishment,” Prowl instructed, letting his panel snap back, revealing his valve.

Jazz was a smart mech and caught on quickly, inching forward on his knees. “Yes sir.”

Now Prowl was beginning to see the appeal.

Chapter Text

Being able to create a thunderstorm so horrendous that no other mech would dare venture out made for the perfect opportunity. It took steeled nerves and a clear helm to wreak havoc on the surface below. Everything that Acid Storm was capable of. Until his trine got the best of him.

“Come on come on come on,” Nova Storm hissed, rocking her hips forward inch by inch to try and angle Acid Storm’s spike to the perfect spot in her valve. Her wings were flaring so wide they were nearly straining the hinges. “Acid.”

“On it. Quit whining,” Acid Storm moved one of his servos from her hip to her anterior node. The pace she was bouncing on his spike meant the timing was off but it did cause her to stutter, helm tilting back until it knocked against Ion Storm’s. There was a vibration thrumming from her thrusters as Nova Storm’s sonics warmed up.

“We’re gonna get called back soon,” Ion Storm warned, resting his helm on Nova Storm’s shoulder to look down at Acid Storm.

“So get in,” Acid Storm snipped, voice box jumping to static as Ion Storm’s spike slotted into his valve and started rutting.

Being stuck as Shockwave’s personal guards meant no downtime and thousands of pointless patrols. If they were gone too long then it was inevitable they’d be called back for an immediate report. Shockwave was paranoid like that. So times for them to interface were too far and too few.

It was Nova Storm who tipped over first, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from shouting. The place they landed in wasn’t private and anyone passing over could see them, which was no one as no one was around. It didn’t slow their charge at the trilling thought of being caught. Nova Storm’s sonics went off as her frame went taunt, shaking broken scrap around them and sending a cloud of dust into the air.

“Scrap,” Ion Storm groaned, biting on Nova Storm’s shoulder as his thrusts got shorter to stay buried into Acid Storm’s valve, the residual overload of Nova Storm bounced in their bond. He followed shortly after, wings jittering as they sent a pulse of electromagnetic waves. If anything for kilometers was run on power, Ion Storm surely short-circuited it into malfunctioning.

“Come on Acid, you’re always last,” Acid Storm teased, but continued grinding herself down on Acid Storm’s spike, creating a feedback loop of charge in their bond. Acid Storm overloaded, shouting as a boom echoed overhead. In seconds a downpour broke from the sky, coating the three in a sticky red acid rain. While detrimental to other mechs, the Rainmakers were immune to their own storms.

“Nice going.” Ion Storm flicked a wing, shaking off the droplets that were quickly replaced.

“This gives us more time. Blame the rain for being late if Shocks complains,” Nova Storm perked up, smirking. Her hips started to roll again, charge cracking off the plating. “Let’s keep going.”

Chapter Text

Starscream never had the best ideas when it came to ‘teammate bonding’ and ‘fun games’, but Skywarp could only complain a little about this one. Being blindfolded and set loose in the lower storage with the goal of finding Starscream without using his outlier was different and challenging. Because Starscream never played fair and had to be wearing some sort of pede dampeners as Skywarp hadn’t heard a blip in forever.

“You know. This might be the first game I give up,” Skywarp admitted, sticking out his arms as he stumbled.

“Oh please. I once saw you drink a liter of sludge to prove a point,” Starscream bit back, echoing just enough to ping a general area. Skywarp moved cautiously, having already run into several poorly placed crates. His pede tip still hurt from the last.

“And what do I get if I catch you?” Skywarp grinned, hearing Starscream snort. The other was getting sloppy with making too much noise, bringing Skywarp all the more closer.

“You would have caught me by now if you used your sensor net better. No wonder you fail to hit the target when flying above a certain altitude,” Starscream continued to taunt.

“Oh, wasn’t it you who didn’t hit the target last run?” Skywarp hummed, wings perking when a bang of something being punched echoed, narrowing down the location of Starscream.

“Megatron distracted me! If it weren’t for— Skywarp!” Starscream’s shrill voice pitched as Skywarp caught him around the waist. “How—”

“You’re so noisy,” Skywarp chuckled. His servo dated down to cup Starscream’s panels, purring when feeling the heat radiating off it. “I think I know what my prize should be.”

Starscream grumbled but spread his legs and let his panels retract, vents hitching as Skywarp pushed two digits into his valve. Skywarp tightened his grip on Starscream before letting his free servo wander over the warming glass cockpit and to the speeding-up turbines, pinching one of the tips.

“Can my blindfold come off? Wanna see you,” Skywarp murmured close to Starscream’s audial, glossa extending to lick up a helm vent.

Starscream squirmed before his leg shifted. “It’s cute how you think it’s over.”

“Huh?” That was all Skywarp got out before Starscream kicked against his left leg, buckling the knee joint and sending him crumpling to the ground. Starscream slipped out of his grip, and his pede steps could be heard walking away.

“I’m upping the difficulty. Oh, and you should hurry before I get myself off without your help,” Starscream said, before laughing. Skywarp flipped himself over, tracking the steps before it faded too far. Not only could he hear Starscream, but with the valve bared the seeker was leaving a scent trail behind. Skywarp put the digits that were just in Starscream’s valve into his mouth, taking note of the taste and filing it into a file for later. He quickly got to his pedes and took off in the direction Starscream went, narrowly avoiding a crate that had been shoved in the way.

Chapter Text

It was a bad idea.

It was a bad bad idea.

Mirage fixed his posture for the dozenth time, hoping his movements wouldn’t attract any attention, but luckily no one was looking his way. He did this to himself and should feel more shame in his actions than the smidge he did. Admittedly, he did go into the meeting expecting it to be short, but Prowl and Jazz got into yet another argument and Optimus Prime decided to take the time to play therapist. Why half the team had to be dragged into it was beyond Mirage’s guess.

“It’s getting repetitive huh,” Hound whispered next to him, leaning back in his chair.

“Mhm,” Mirage hummed half listening, attempting to relax and lean back an inch, only causing the thick false spike in his valve to rub right against a cluster of nodes, sending charge shooting up his back strut. He quickly straightened up, and the corner of his optic caught Hound moving.

“It bothering you?” Hound asked, nonchalantly. Mirage’s optics widened and frantically looked around, seeing everyone else enthralled as Prowl listed every issue he had with Jazz. The conversation they could be having could be about the argument, but Mirage knew. It was Mirage’s idea with the false spike, but Hound was more than enthusiastic and supportive.

“It’s rather, uncomfortable,” Mirage spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. Hound huffed, crossing his arms.

“Too bad everyone had to get dragged into it.” Now the conversation guaranteed anyone listening would connect it to the conflict in front of them.

“I had plans after this. I’m hoping to not cancel them,” Mirage replied, getting Hound to smile. The plan was to spend their free shift together, with Mirage preparing for it with having the false spike in him. The thought of their free time getting chipped away by a squabble and Mirage needing to jump into his next shift, with the false spike, did not sound pleasant.

“Special someone?” Hound played along, one arm lifting to snake over Mirage’s backrest.

“Dearly.” Mirage flushed a little, looking away.

“Can you two quit flirting right in front of me?” Sideswipe broke their conversation, shoving his helm between them. “Prowl is about to blow a gasket.”

Right on cue, the second-in-command’s door wings snapped back as he stormed off, shoving through the crowd of Autobots and out the door.

“Alright,” Optimus Prime spoke over the growing murmurs. “Everyone’s dismissed for the day.”

“Finally,” Mirage sighed and stood, grabbing Hound’s servo and dragging him out the room, be-lining for the nearest quarters which was his own. Hound was laughing behind him, barely able to keep up with the other’s fast pace. The sudden jostle of movements of the spike was only making Mirage more charged up.

“In a hurry?” Hound teased lightly as he was pushed into the room, followed quickly by Mirage.

“Less talking more fragging.” Mirage locked the door, popping his panel to blindly reach for the false spike, dragging it out of his soaked valve.

Chapter Text

“Come on,” Rodimus pestered, poking Drift in the shoulder. “I just need a teeny tiny bit of help with this dare.”

“Was it a dare, or are you phrasing this as a dare?” Drift asked pointedly, his guess right on the nose as Rodimus pouted.

“Well. I’m curious so I’m daring myself. How about that?” Rodimus tilted his chin up with a grin as if he outsmarted Drift in this one-sided battle of wits. Drift narrowed his optics, scrutinizing the other and searching for an ulterior motive. Sure they had snuck off once or twice before to ‘satiate curiosity’, but this was pushing the pede tip over the line.

“This won’t be spoken about to anyone?” Drift said, the question coming off more as a demand.

“Well, I was gonna tell,” Rodimus cut himself off when Drift glared. “Nope. This can stay between us.”

“Good. Your quarters tonight?”

“Deal.”

Drift was never one to back out of an agreement, which is why he suspected Rodimus had come to him with the ‘dare’ rather than some other mech. Nevertheless, he felt a mix of pride and arrogance when later that night he had Rodimus on his back with four of Drift’s digits in his valve. Rodimus had one of his servos shoved into his mouth, muffling gasps and whimpers as Drift stretched the digits apart.

“I think this is the widest I’ve ever gotten you,” Drift spoke with indifference, occupied with watching lubricant drip from the valve’s entrance and onto the berth sheets where a massive puddle was already accumulating.

Rodimus removed his servo, only to yelp as Drift worked his thumb alongside the digits. “You can get on with it now. I think I’m ready.”

“You said that three digits ago.” Drift’s mouth quirked up into a half-smile, getting Rodimus to sulk for just a moment before he sighed dramatically.

“And now you got five digits in me, so can you just— Primus!” Rodimus threw his helm back, back strut arching as Drift suddenly pulled the digits out, closed them into a fist, and pushed it back into the valve. A gush of lubricant was forced out, making the glide all the more easier. Drift was able to get just above the wrist in before there was resistance and stopped, waiting for Rodimus to come back from whatever plane of existence he entered.

“Watch your language,” Drift tacked on as soon as Rodimus’ optics came back into focus.

“Slagger,” Rodimus wheezed, servos reaching down to grasp Drift’s servo that was in his valve. “Move.”

“I think your dare has been successful,” Drift hummed, pressing his fist just a little more inside to hear Rodimus groan. “You want to keep going?”

“Yes. Yes. Just move,” Rodimus ordered, whining when Drift pulled out slightly to jerk it back in, getting the wrist of the servo to touch the valve’s rim. “I’m so close.”

It only took a few more thrusts of Drift’s fist for Rodimus to suddenly clench down and overload.

Chapter Text

Should the two of them be studying for the critical exam that was in their early morning class? Sure. Had they already studied relentlessly the last several days and deserved a break? Skyfire sure thought so, which is why he used his weight advantage to keep Starscream pinned to the berth. Each of his servos was easily wrapped around the seeker’s arms, and his shoulders were used to hold Starscream’s legs down as he lay on top. Giving Skyfire access to press and nuzzle his faceplate against the warming spike housing of his smaller partner.

“Will you let me see it?” Skyfire asked sweetly, glossa licking a clean strip over the paneling, feeling Starscream shake. Starscream gave his silent approval by letting the panel retract, pressurizing the spike right against the other’s face. Skyfire moaned, the vibrations going through the array and making Starscream shiver. Skyfire dragged his glossa over the full length, mapping out the size and thickness.

The spike was a sleek silver, with one blue stripe and a row of red biolights running up the underside, ending just under the tapered tip. It took a bit of convincing the first time around for Starscream to show it, as the seeker preferred his valve. But Skyfire wanted to appreciate and cherish everything the seeker had. Starscream’s spike also ended up being extremely sensitive to touch, which Skyfire took advantage of.

Skyfire rolled his glossa tip over each biolight, chuckling when Starscream squirmed harder, trying and failing to pull away from the sensation. The shuttle continued the ministrations, letting the tip of the spike barely enter his mouth before shuffling back down to taste the base. Starscream would whimper each time Skyfire sucked the side of his spike, and he’d whine when Skyfire would release the spike and take a moment to stare in adoration.

“Please,” Starscream gasped. “Skyfire please.”

Skyfire hummed, nosing the spike and smiling when it twitched and bobbed. It took Starscream forever some nights to plead for something, and it was always a treat to hear him beg, so how could Skyfire deny his seeker?

“Since you asked so nicely,” Skyfire praised, before easing the spike into his mouth. The tip bumped the back of his intake as his lips hit the base, and Skyfire swallowed. Starscream thrashed, fans kicking on high as Skyfire’s glossa roamed the spike, helm bobbing in short movements. He kept a tight seal over the array, not letting a drop of pre-transfluid escape. Starscream moaned, high pitched and loud, and the first one of the night.

One of the seeker’s legs kicked after a few overwhelming moments, a quick warning just before Starscream overloaded, transfluid pumping out of the spike and down Skyfire’s intake. The shuttle took it in stride, not releasing the spike until Starscream was done and he drank the last bit. Skyfire only pulled off once Starscream went lax under his touch, fans roaring.

“Go again in a few moments?” Skyfire asked, grinning when Starscream nodded faintly.

Chapter Text

“Having second thoughts?” Starscream mocked above him.

Megatron scowled at the seeker, vents puffing. “No. Get on with it.”

Starscream scoffed, setting his servos on the berth, on either side of Megatron’s waist, to lean as close as he could to Megatron’s face, only getting as far as the upper chassis. “There’s no shame in backing out.”

“It seems like you’re the one hesitating,” Megatron shot back.

Lips curling back into a snarl, Starscream lifted himself straight again, his array panel sliding back to reveal a pressurizing spike. Despite his small frame size, Starscream’s spike was long; and despite Megatron’s larger frame size, he suspected the spike would reach inside his gestation chamber just as they discussed and planned.

Through all the verbal and physical spats between the two, Starscream was a good frag, and Megatron finally got curious enough about a feature of seekers. Megatron’s small request was quickly met with Starscream’s own request that his trine also participate; Megatron wasn’t opposed. Thundercracker and Skywarp were lying on either side of him, servos wandering his frame while their optics were on Starscream. They had stayed quiet thus far, and Megatron suspected they were all talking over their trine bond.

The push of Strscream’s spike brought Megatron back, the only warning he got before it caught and sank into his valve. He hadn’t even noticed his array panels opening. Starscream hilted in a smooth motion, the tip of the spike already prodding against the gestation seal.

“They won’t take?” Megatron asked his last concern. He really didn’t need sparklings running around, especially ones sired by the trine.

Starscream rolled his optics, wings flicking. “No. Different frame types. You really suck the enjoyment out of things.”

Megatron opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Starscream began rutting, pushing his spike further in until it popped through the seal. Starscream laid his frame over Megatron’s, fang biting into whatever plating it could reach. As if taking a cue, Thundercracker and Skywarp increased their touches; Skywarp was swift to capture Megatron’s lips as Thundercracker nipped at his helm and audial.

Then Megatron felt it, a thick press of something traveling up his valve until the seal was pushed further open, and then an egg was popped inside. Starscream made a chittering noise, and rolled his hips harder, encouraging the eggs to move faster. By the fourth one, Megatron overloaded, slow and rolling over him like waves. Starscream was far from done.

By the twelfth egg, Megatron had tipped over three times, and was starting to feel sluggish. The eggs had taken only a third of his chamber space by the time Starscream finished.

“Hey,” Starscream smacked Megatron’s chassis, startling him. “Stay awake. You got two more.”

Megatron made an incoherent noise, tensing slightly as Starscream pulled out, causing fluid to begin leaking. Once Starscream was out of the way, Skywarp was moving, taking his trineleader’s place and popping his spike out. Starscream laid in Skywarp’s place, placing one short kiss on Megatron’s face.

Chapter Text

“I can last longer than you,” Starscream taunted.

Bumblebee sighed, long and dragged out to emphasize how much agitation the other was causing him. Starscream simply grinned up at him, fangs glinting in the low light. They had been together long enough to know the banter was meant to come off as playful, but some nights Bumblebee simply wanted to stop the snark and have a bit of romance. Starscream was capable of it, it just took a lot of prying.

“Not everything needs to be a competition,” Bumblebee snipped back, leaning over his prone partner. The evening started nicely. Drinks, conversation, oral lubricant transfer, moving to their shared room, arrays popping open as soon as they hit the berth; then Starscream had to ruin the mood.

Steering the night back around, Bumblebee rocked his spike against Starscream’s valve opening.

“You pesky little— oh,” Starscream gasped as Bumblebee pressed in, spike easily pushing open the calipers. The seeker’s valve quickly adjusted, tightening to make it pleasurable for both mechs.

“You were saying?” Bumblebee teased, wrapping his arms around Starscream’s waist. His helm could only reach the center of the cockpit, and he sometimes wished he could be just a bit taller to kiss Starscream when he was so docile. The subdued nature evaporated fast, and Starscream decided he didn’t want to let Bumblebee lead for the night like usual.

Starscream suddenly threw his weight, easily knocking the minibot off balance and forcing him flat on his back. The seeker's frame curled over his, hips rocking fast to chase an overload. So much for the competition . Bumblebee didn’t voice it, instead, he wet two of his digits, sticking them down and right against where they were connected. It took a moment to find the anterior node, but once he did Bumblebee pinched it. Rolling it between his digits, Bumblebee smirked when Starscream keened loudly. By now he knew exactly where to press to topple the other over. And wow did Starscream tip over wonderfully.

Starscream froze, thighs shaking, and Bumblebee didn’t need to see to know the seeker’s wings were also shaking from the intensity. After a breem, Starscream shifted, and Bumblebee felt something wet envelop one of his horns, while the other was suddenly pinched.

“Hey!” Bumblebee squirmed, but Starscream let his frame drop, pinning the minibot to the berth as he continued to suck and play with the sensitive horns. With the valve clenching tight, Bumblebee followed right after, an overlord zipping through his wires and leaving a pleasant stinging feeling. His spike emptied into Starscream’s valve, and for a moment he was worried the other would complain. Starscream merely sighed, releasing the horns to properly relax against Bumblebee.

“You’re heavy,” Bumblebee muttered after a moment, feeling the mess of liquid on their arrays become cold.

“You’re comfortable,” Starscream mumbled back, far too into recharge to care or bother moving. Bumblebee grumbled but wrapped his arms around the other to caress the wings, letting his optics offline to sleep.

Chapter Text

The room was quiet enough to hear the minuscule shifts of Shockwave’s frame resettling into the berth, the occasional tap of Starscream turning the page on a datapad, and the constant low buzzing of a vibrating disk magnetized to Shockwave’s swollen anterior node. The giant gold and blue mech wasn’t tied to the berth, but the stern words of the seeker kept him locked in place lying on the slab.

“Please,” Shockwave’s voice warbled. When he didn’t receive an answer the mech tried again, a decibel louder. “Starscream please.”

Starscream didn’t hurry to look up, finishing the sentence he was reading in his book before giving his berth partner a bored glance. Shockwave’s frame was trembling, straining to hold the position Starscream told him to stay in— arm and arm-canon at the sides with legs spread. Admittedly, Shockwave was doing a wonderful job, but Starscream wasn’t keen on giving praise so soon.

“You know what to call me,” Starscream said with disinterest, returning to his datapad.

Shockwave let his helm fall back onto the berth, optic staring at the ceiling as he pushed down his pride. “Commander Starscream, please.”

The title sent a pleasant thrill through the seeker but settled his plating fast not to give away how much it affected him. Finding a place to stop, Starscream stood, keeping his wings still as he observed Shockwave’s prone array. The toy had dropped in intensity, meaning Shockwave was just on the brink of an overload. Anytime the larger mech was close, the toy would either stop or lower until the charge dissipated enough to keep going. Another magnet was secured a few centimeters above the locked-shut spike housing.

Starscream pressed a digit on the magnet, pleased that it did its job so nicely thus far. “What’s your percentage at?”

“89 percent,” Shockwave gasped. “Transfluid reserves should not exceed 96—“

“That’s such a silly number. I want to see you at full capacity before I let you overload,” Starscream tisked. “The last time we did this you didn’t listen well enough. I had to go and make a device to make you behave.”

Reserves were kept inside the frame; just below the fuel tank but resting right above the array panel. The device Starscream conjured up sent a signal to keep the opening sealed up until it was removed. Shockwave had never gotten above 76 in the past; his frame would trip into overload even if the stimulation was minimal to none. Starscream was a curious mech and was so lucky his partner also had the urge for questionable experiments.

Plenty of clear lubricants drooled out of the valve’s entrance. Starscream graciously collected some on his digits and pushed it back in, hearing Shockwave whine high and loud. “You need to learn some self-discipline. Lucky for you, I am a self-practiced expert willing to teach such an undignified mech a lesson.” Starscream accentuated his words with a few firm taps of his digits against the valve folds, making Shockwave tense and shudder.

Chapter Text

Being dragged away from his work, Shockwave followed his silent partner with zero resistance. He could easily break from the light hold on his canon, but it was rare that Soundwave called for his attention. The spy knew how important the scientist's work was and would usually wait for a pause or for the day to be over. Equally, Shockwave never pulled Soundwave from his work or conversations with Megatron. Their duties to the Decepticon cause far outweighed their needs.

But they had their moments of weakness.

“I assume this is an urgent matter?” Shockwave inquired, entering Soundwave’s quarters. With zero shame Soundwave eased himself down onto the berth, lithe frame stretching out, and spread his legs. The two had seen each other in various states countless times and did not need to be shy or embarrassed. With rapt fascination, Shockwave watched the valve panel retract to reveal a smooth black valve. Slowly, a thin black tendril emerged from the entrance, followed by another, and another.

“I see.” Shockwave’s finials flicked with interest, watching the dozen or so digit-thin tendrils squirm and thrash as they sought to latch onto something. “They’re very active right now.”

“An unnecessary distraction,” Starscream’s agitating voice crackled from Soundwave. The spy propped himself up by his elbows, canting his hips upward. Taking the cue, Shockwave approached, unlatching his spike and letting it pressurize. As if trained to the noise, the tendrils moved to slide against Soundwave’s thighs as Shockwave lowered himself over his partner. Once the spike was in reach, the tendrils wrapped around it, guiding it to the entrance. Both mechs let out crackles of static from their vocalizers as their arrays were conjoined and the spike sank fully inside.

Shockwave used to never be interested in interfacing, seeing it as a simple distraction and a waste of energy. Then Soundwave entered his life and showed a new side to it. Shockwave didn’t need to bother with exerting energy through thrusting or making sure the angle was correct. The tendrils would slide and squeeze over the spike, doing all the work for him. Through extensive questioning, it came out that it was also Soundwave’s preferred method. The tendrils had thousands of sensors and any amount of stimulation outside their control was overwhelming and uncomfortable.

Data cables unsheathed from Soundwave’s back strut, sliding over and around Shockwave until the two were nestled against one another. The two lay there in stillness, languidly rubbing their helms together. Eventually, Soundwave flexed, hips bucking up as a silent overload washed over him. The tendrils tightened, coaxing Shockwave deeper inside until he finished. The transfluid was collected and soaked up into the valve.

“Satisfactory?” Shockwave questioned, not disappointed at all when the tendrils forced his spike out, apparently done with interfacing as they retreated into the valve. Some days they wouldn’t let go, leading to some unfortunate moments where they had to postpone meetings.

“Satisfactory,” Shockwave’s voice played back from Soundwave, yet the spy didn’t loosen the data cables.

Chapter Text

Be good be good be good.

It was one of those times Sentinel was glad the Primes were going on long and boring tangents about loyalty and freedom of their kind. It meant Sentinel didn’t have to pay close attention and take notes, and instead could focus on the warm servos that belonged to Megatronus that gripped his hips and held him in place. Megatronus was the biggest of the Primes. The strongest. The toughest. And the spike the Prime wielded reflected that very nicely.

It was a snug fit in Sentinel’s valve where he sat in the Prime's lap, decorative wings to the larger mech’s chassis. His datapad was forgotten on the table before him, but Sentinel didn't let his attention stray too far. If Zeta Prime suddenly mentioned a battle tactic, Sentinel needed to be ready to grab his notes and write it down. If another Prime were to ask for Sentinel and Megatronus to agree, he'd have to be ready to remove himself and attend to the others.

None of this was told to him before he started this job. Sentinel was simply told that his duties were to be there for the Primes, whatever the call. It didn't shock him all much when the advances started but he was surprised that he never turned it down. It felt humiliating at first, but now it was routine. It was just another task to complete. Besides, only Sentinel got to see this side of them, no one else, and that made the small mech swell with pride.

Megatronus leaned forward, causing Sentinel’s chassis to press against the table. “Very good.“

So good so good so good.

Solus Prime was speaking, mentioning a recent skirmish taking place North of Iacon’s entrance. Sentinel found the strength to pick up his stylus, jotting down the Prime’s glyphs in short-servo, a code only knew to translate into a better-worded report later in the evening. He was always praised for his notetaking skills. How fast he recorded their conversations and compiled them into readable data packets. Even Starscream had to give him credit, albeit with a flick of his real wings.

If the high guard ever found out about Sentinel’s extra duties, he would lose the sliver of respect he got from them. He already contemplated and wished for them to be shot out of the sky during a battle. He wanted to never see Starscream’s smug face or to see the pesky seeker talking to Megatronus. Was it jealousy? It was demeaning enough to be in this position. He detested the Primes for wearing him down enough to put him in this position.

“Zeta Prime wishes to see you,” Megatronus’ deep resonating voice spoke low, causing Sentinel’s decorative wings to shudder. Elegantly as he could, he slid off the spike, trying to ignore the wet pop as the tip slipped out. Collecting his dignity, and datapad, Sentinel strode around the table, chin held high and unwavering.

Stay good stay good stay good.

Chapter Text

Like a drug that couldn’t be kicked, the two found themselves in a familiar position.

Starscream had been slammed face-first into a wall, with Megatron looming behind him. The seeker’s arms were pulled behind his back, stasis cuffs locked around the wrists to prevent movement. Megatron then grabbed the wings, yanking and groping them without care. The tunnel that Starscream was dragged into was dimly lit by poorly constructed human lights. Potentially abandoned, more likely they wouldn’t be found anytime soon.

“Coward,” Starscream hissed, pulling at the cuffs. Megatron had good reason to keep them pinned, as the seeker’s talons wouldn’t hesitate to gouge their way into silver plating, leaving identifiable markings that couldn’t be explained away if, when, Optimus Prime saw them. There were no excuses. Everyone would know what it meant.

“Quiet. Open up,” Megatron demanded, his knee shoving between Starscream’s legs. Straight to the point as always. The seeker’s valve panel snapped back, lubricant dripping thickly from having started its preparation the moment Megatron knocked him from the sky and dragged him into this dark space. Megatron reshuffled, and the clicking of his spike housing opening sounded far louder in the tense air. For a moment, Starscream felt the egregious spike slide between his thighs, completely missing the valve.

A mocking laugh broke from Starscream’s vocalizer. “Going soft?”

Megatron’s servo slammed into his helm, crushing Starscream’s cheek and nose into the rough rock wall; the sudden action caused the seeker to bite his glossa and draw energon. The spike shifted, easily catching the entrance and shoving its way in, hilting to the base. Megatron quickly set a ramming pace, the goal to get it over with rather than the enjoyment. There was no way Starscream was walking away unscathed and was already rolling through an explanation a mile long to tell Skywarp and Nova Storm.

It used to be so easy; crawling back to his trine with a sob story of Megatron butilizing him, his trinemates unaware that he had instigated the leader purposefully to be put in that situation. Now it was harder, as he had promised them to be careful and not go looking for fights. He had no reason to be here right now. There were no excuses.

Starscream had his trine. Megatron had Optimus Prime. Yet neither could pull away from each other.

Charge bounced between both mechs, crashing both into a searing overload. Megatron pulled out at the last minute, covering Starscream’s thighs in sticky transfluid. Their fans were running on high, puffing out hot air to cool their systems. With a click the stasis cuffs were removed, and Megatron moved away. With less support holding him up, Starscream sank to his knees, rubbing at his wrists where the plating was dented from the restraints.

“Traitor,” Starscream bit out, sounding more broken than he wanted.

Megatron unceremoniously dropped a rag to the ground in front of Starscream, his silver plating already cleaned and clear of any signs of interfacing. Wordlessly, Megatron left, knowing all too well that this wasn’t the last time.

Chapter Text

It was by complete accident. Soundwave was routinely checking the cameras when he caught the suspicious activity. Starscream was wandering the lower decks, checking around corners before slipping into a supply closet. It was a decommissioned room with nothing inside, and there was no need for the second-in-command to be there. It also meant the camera for the room was deactivated; to save energy. With a quick code input, Soundwave got the camera semi-functioning again, planning to spy on the seeker to catch whatever nefarious plot he was working on.

Instead, he was greeted with nothing. Starscream had leaned against one of the bare walls, arms crossed and pede-tip tapping like he was waiting for something—or someone.

The camera feed glitched just moments later, static skittering across the screen before clearing up and revealing Skywarp had appeared, his teleportation outlier messing with the camera. Soundwave realized too late what he was witnessing as Skywarp crowded against Starscream, the camera angle giving no clear signs of what was happening but missing information could be filled in. Soundwave should have turned off the camera and continued his job, but he found himself watching as Skywarp’s servo dipped between the two seeker frames as Starscream’s legs shifted further and further apart. For a moment, the spy hovered his digits over the controls, about to close the feed when Thundercracker then entered the supply closet.

Soundwave mentally cursed himself for losing focus, forgetting the possibility of their third joining, but curiosity peaked once more as the biggest of the three seekers moved behind Skywarp, servos rising to run across the expansion of black wings. Soundwave opened his vents, blowing out hot air to prevent his fans from kicking on. It was only him in the room with no chance of some mech entering in on him; he had nothing to worry about, but if he allowed himself to get affected, then it’d be harder to look at any of them in the optics later.

The three seekers moved and shifted into different positions, Skywarp moving away from between the two and pulling Starscream away from the wall. Soundwave briefly wished the camera’s audio was functioning, seeing Starscream’s mouth move as if giving orders. The camera feed wasn’t the best quality, and the coloring seemed a few shades off, but Soundwave could see Starscream’s valve, slick with fluid staining the thigh plating.

Without Soundwave’s command, his array panel slid open, spike pressurizing. He should have ended the camera feed there; instead, Soundwave gripped his spike as he watched Thundercracker sink to his knees in front of Starscream, helm moving in close. Starscream was now in the middle, with Skywarp holding him in place. The angle was still off, but Soundwave wasn’t disappointed, as he now had an unobscured view of Starscream’s face.

It wasn’t often Soundwave lost track of time, but clarity struck when he overloaded in sync with Starscream’s own.

Soundwave made a note to himself to install a new camera, one with higher-quality visuals and audio features.

Chapter Text

Skywarp was drunk and charged up.

Searching through the bond, Skywarp found a rather annoying block on Starscream’s end, signifying he was in a late-night meeting with a rather handsome leader of the Decepticons. Rooting around again, Skywarp’s spirits were instantly lifted when Thundercracker responded, just a simple confirmation that Skywarp could join him. Said seeker was in their shared room, reading a book in the berth.

“You look busy,” Skywarp slurred, nuzzling his helm against Thundercracker’s own.

“Just enjoying the peace while I can,” Thundercracker hummed, placing a quick kiss on Skywarp’s helm vents.

“You wouldn’t mind if I interrupted?” Skywarp emphasized his words as he slipped his servos between the blue thighs.

“I never do.” Thundercracker made it easier for the other and spread his legs. Engines purring and fans whirring to life, Skywarp shimmied his way in-between, slowly sliding down until he was sprawled cockpit-down on the berth. Arms hooking under the thighs, Skywarp tugged at Thundercracker’s hips until the other was at the correct angle.

“Have a preference tonight?” Thundercracker asked.

Skywarp hummed, trailing his lips to follow the valve seam. Understanding, Thundercracker sent the command and the panel slid back, revealing the silver valve. Its blue biolights were just beginning to brighten with charge.

Skywarp started with pressing open-mouth kisses along the mesh folds, feeling the array slowly warm. The first lubricant drip was quickly lapped up, spreading it around before Skywarp’s glossa settled on the blue anterior node.

Thundercracker brought a servo to Skywarp’s helm but made no movement to guide him. Skywarp knew exactly where to mouth, to suck, and to gently scrape his teeth. Just enough to build Thundercracker’s charge but not enough to distract him from his book. Skywarp’s trinemate was reading before he showed up, and it would be rude for him to take attention away from something Thundercracker rarely got a chance to do.

“Skies, Warp,” Thundercracker whispered, hips tilting so the seeker could have more room to work.

This was the routine for several minutes; with Thundercracker reading the datapad, the other servo holding Skywarp’s helm, and Skywarp lavishing the valve in front of him. Soon enough the datapad dropped to Thundercracker’s cockpit with a sharp click, as the servo on the helm suddenly tightened—a warning of an impending overload.

Skywarp didn’t need those signs. He could feel the charge crackling against his glossa as the nodes searched for a release point and grounded themselves on Skywarp’s face. Thundercracker was gorgeous when coming undone. The frame tensed for the briefest moment as change zapped through circuits before slumping into a pliable state. Skywarp barely moved from his position the whole time, glossa dragging out to catch any transfluid leaking. He only pulled back when Thundercracker’s servo pushed harder into his helm.

“Satisfied?” Thundercracker asked, vents still running a click higher than normal. Skywarp took a moment to himself, resting his helm on Thundercracker’s leg and admiring how pretty his trinemate was. Blue biolights slowly dimmed as charge seeped out, transfluid dipping out of the valve’s entrance and onto the sheets.

Very pretty.

Skywarp’s charge was still racing through his frame, clouding his processor.

Wordlessly, Skywarp dove back between Thundercracker’s thighs.

Chapter Text

Prowl had always been praised for his diligence and awareness of situations, his ability to predict any outcome before they happened, and protect himself from danger he couldn’t even see. So his misstep and subsequent fall into a web made of thick sticky string was surprising. Anytime Prowl tried to thrash or cut the string it only seemed to entangle him more until his arms were bound and useless. In his struggle, he felt the strings vibrate as if something else landed on them. Prowl quickly stopped his struggle, listening, hearing a whirring and clicking.

“A pretty little bug caught in my web, how delightful,” the voice crooned, easily recognized and someone Prowl dreaded to see.

“Tarantulas,” Prowl started, breathless from the fight to escape, but before he could say more, webbing was roped around his helm, gluing his mouth shut. The spider-like mech finally came into Prowl’s field of vision, hanging upside down from where he clung to the ceiling. For what felt like forever, the two stared each other down. When Tarantulas moved closer, Prowl began to flail again, only succeeding in getting one leg entangled.

“Have you thought about what I said? About my offer?” Tarantulas spoke, servo coming up to touch Prowl’s face, only for said mech to jerk away. It didn’t deter the spider-mech, not in the slightest. Tarantulas moved again, dropping from the ceiling until he was hovering right over the prone mech. Another lengthy silence, with Prowl glaring at Tarantulas.

Prowl knew he wasn’t in any real danger. He and Tarantulas had met the day before to talk this through detail by detail. If, at any point, Prowl didn’t want this he knew he just could ping the safe code to Tarantulas.

The heavy silence was broken by Prowl’s array panels opening, quickly followed by a hiss from Tarantulas at the sight.

“Being a willing meal for me? Good mech.” Tarantulas’ servo grabbed Prowl’s remaining free leg, stretching wide open and entangling it in the web. Now Prowl was fully trapped, at the mercy of the spider-mech. Two digits unexpectedly pushed into Prowl’s valve to test it, finding it stretched and already soaked. Prep was something Prowl suggested forgoing and had taken care of it before coming over. Maneuvering, Tarantulas gripped Prowl’s hips and released his spike straight into the valve. Prowl made a muffled noise, helm tilting back, feeling calipers loosening to make room.

Tarantulas pulled Prowl off before snapping him back down, using the sway of the web to make an efficient hard pace. Prowl could only flex and writhe as the spider-mech did as he pleased. Tarantulas was a beastly mech, and his spike was no different. Charge built fast, twisting and knotting until it burst and singed through Prowl’s wires.

Tarantulas slowed the pace, optics staring down Prowl and gaging the reaction. Prowl took the moment to steady himself, recalibrating his optic and gyro, before nodding frantically. Permission granted, Tarantulas started back up, gripping Prowl tight; he had his overload to chase.

Chapter Text

In a time of war, it is extremely important to keep weapons clean and functioning, lest a malfunction happen at the wrong moment, and seize the gun, preventing it from firing. Maintenance is still important even after the war. For proper care, weapons need a strict routine schedule full of polishing, brushing, and rubbing. Lots and lots of rubbing.

“Come on,” Optimus’ voice was soft, encouraging. His servo was warm on Megatron’s leg. “You’re overdue.”

Megatron grunted, marking his placement in his novel before setting it on the berth-side table. “Overdue? I could go forever.”

Optimus smiled, the smile that wrinkles the protoform in the corners of his optics, a smile that Megatron had very little will to go against.

“That was eons ago. Now, please? I have your favorite.” Optimus made a compelling argument by holding up a pot of wax with Vosian writing. Curse Starscream and his high standards with convincing Megatron to switch to the expensive paste. Admittedly it was the best on the market.

Grunting again, Megatron sat up, stretching his arms over his helm before starting the transformation sequence. Slowly and meticulously, the bulky war frame shrunk down until he was in his gun alt mode, lying listless on the berth. While not obvious, Optimus had learned to spot issues over their tumultuous relationship, like how Megatron had chosen to fold onto his left rather than right, meaning some internal components were locking up.

Picking Megatron up, Optimus then took a seat on the berth, pulling out various colored cloths and polishes. He stared with the grip, cleaning away the grime that had begun to build up. Optimus had to use a little more force with a certain spot, but was amused when the gun's metal began heating up.

Next, Optimus removed the scope and slowly twisted off the barrel extension by wrapping all his digits around the cylinder, leaving the gun in its basic setup. By then, there wasn’t a single spot on the gun that was cool. Picking up a rag, Optimus dipped it into a cleanser, starting from the barrel of the gun and moving to the base. Plating shifted and stretched, allowing the Prime to dig deep into the crevices.

Mechs whose alt mode was weaponry could not have all their parts removed like standard guns. So Optimus made do where he could, picking up a brush to reach in the seam between the trigger guard and trigger. The action proved necessary, as a small smoke trail was just beginning to appear from the nozzle.

“Relax. Just a little more,” Optimus reassured, knowing how impatient Megatron could get. He worked quickly with the polish, making sure to not miss a spot. By then little pops of electricity were skittering across the metal plating. Once Optimus hooked the scope and barrel extension back in place, he set the gun gently onto the berth, getting up from his spot. Not a moment later Megatron was transforming back into his root mode, laying on his back and looking stunned.

“Good?” Optimus asked playfully.

“Good,” Megatron echoed dazed.

Chapter Text

Ok so maybe Starscream wasn’t in the best of shape. He’d somehow survive the explosion the pathetic little human stabbed him with; at the cost of losing an optic and parts of his face. His priority for the next several months had been finding replacement parts and dismantling the mechs he stumbled across, being sufficiently successful in avoiding any more trouble. But he was Starscream, and trouble always seemed to find him.

Such as getting demolished by a stupid dinobot because of his stupid frame in its stupid heat coming at a stupid time.

At the least the fragging thing had the decency to drag him off somewhere where there was no one else to witness the humiliating situation Starscream found himself in. The dinobot had Starscream pinned to the forest ground, the soft dirt lodging into every crack and seam of the seeker. This was the least of Starscream’s concerns.

“Harder! Are you even trying?!” Starscream shrieked over the sound of his overworked engines, digging his talons into the ground underneath. “I’ve gotten better!”

Grimlock roared above, sounding like metal tearing into ribbons. The monstrous hulk of a mech hadn’t even bothered to transform after capturing the flighty seeker. Staying in his very dangerous and very beastly form of an earthly dinosaur. Starscream really didn’t care about how Grimlock was keeping him down or even how close those razor sharp teeth were to his still damaged head.

What mattered was the massive dinobot spike carving its way through the seeker’s valve.

Starscream cursed more glyphs out as he felt Grimlock shift his weight and bear down harder, the spike piercing even deeper. Primus had finally given him a break as Starscream hadn’t had a decent frag since— well— never. Megatron was a far away second.

Grimlock let out another one of his monstrous roars, fire sparking and getting far too close to Starscream’s wings. Before the seeker could even complain, he felt what seemed like molten lava stuff his valve. Of course a dinobot shaped like a t-rex would have transfluid the temperature of the sun. It sparked enough pressure and pain to trip Starscream into his overload, vocalizer nearly popping from how loud he screeched. Because only a masochism like Starscream could satiate his heat by getting near fragged in two by a dinobot.

It took several hours for Starscream to come back online, his systems barely rebooting to take in surroundings when a hot breath engulfed his back. Grimlock had decided to stay, tail around Starscream to keep him right in place.

“You’re decent enough,” Starscream sniffed haughtily. “You can assist next time.”

Chapter Text

Establishing connection. Stand by.

2%...15%...36%...52%...73%...84%...99%

Connection successful.

“Warp?” The hesitant, small voice of Thundercracker broke through the static. Faint and crackling with interference, but there.

Skywarp slumped against the stone wall, sighing in relief. “Right here. Screamer?”

“Will you ever be professional?” Starscream’s snark cut through the white noise.

“Please don’t fight,” Thundercracker pleaded. “How long do we have?”

Skywarp inched up, peeking through a crack in the shelter he had built into a cave. It was dark, with only a sliver of sun visible behind a dark moon. The air was stale and full of debris but kept him safe from the harsh winds of the planet. “Time works differently for all three of us. So better make every klik count.”

“Where are you?” Starscream asked pointedly.

Skywarp could imagine his trineleader bristling as he laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Warp, please,” Thundercracker tried to beg again.

“No. The moment I give my location, Screamer is gonna send a militia after me to lock me up,” Skywarp said bitterly. Stupid Starscream and his stupid Emperor of Cybertron title.

“Fair point,” Starscream relented.

“You can hide with me,” Thundercracker said hopefully.

“Are your human friends okay with that?” Skywarp bit back, feeling both satisfied and pained at the silence. Stupid Thundercracker and his stupid love of Earth.

Dead air settled inside the call, with none of the seekers willing to speak. It always ended like this. With Skywarp doing his best to find a signal to reach them, and them breaking down into a fight and cutting connection. Being on the run wasn’t a luxury. Scrounging for energon and avoiding any planets with signs of life led him to the most dangerous areas. But he couldn’t go back. Not when he was still labeled a criminal.

Their trine bond twinged, sending sharp pains through all their sparks. The longer they went without merging, the less connected they’d be.

“Look,” Skywarp sighed. “Give it time. Things will blow over. It did for both of you.”

He could feel Starscream’s growing agitation to argue, but nothing came. The lack of a fight stung harder than when they did. It was a conversation that needed to happen that never did. Skywarp wasn't in the mood to let it deteriorate again, not after going nearly a year without hearing their voices.

“So let’s try something different this call,” Skywarp broached casually, trying to broadcast his intent through the bond. It must have been loud enough as he could hear Starscream’s hitched breath through the static.

“Seriously?” Starscream didn’t sound that mad.

Taking it as a cue to proceed, Skywarp rested more comfortably on the stone wall, ignoring the way sharper edges dug into his wings. He stopped caring about dents years ago.

“Wasn’t it you who was always in charge of reminding us about bond upkeep?” Skywarp said slyly, a servo coming up to lightly tap his digits against his turbine.

“Normal spark bonding not interfacing!” Starscream corrected quickly.

“Same thing,” Skywarp snickered. “Except we’re not interfacing. We’re self servicing over a comm.” He took some delight in hearing a clear growl from Starscream’s end. While one servo stayed on his turbine, his other snaked down to his panel, touching the seam.

“It’s only you self servicing,” Starscream barked as if gaining the upper servo.

“I’m not yet,” Skywarp grinned, trying to send echoes into the faint bond, reaching for them. “Won’t do anything until I get the glyph.”

A game, something that Skywarp only played when he really wanted to get on Starscream’s, and sometimes Thundercraker’s, good side. Being a good trinemate and waiting for orders. It didn’t take long, either because Starscream knew the connection could cut at any moment or he was desperate.

“Grab your throat,” Starscream commanded. Skywarp quickly moved from his turbine to follow Starscream’s word, servo wrapping around his throat cables. It sent shocks of pleasure through his frame. If he closed his optics, he could think it was Starscream’s more slim digits enclosing around the cables.

Thundercracker was always hard to coax to join and took time, but Skywarp had nowhere else to be. He continued playing with the outside of his panel, gently grazing digits against the seams and waiting for those few words that would tilt this evening into something more interesting.

“Open your panel,” Thundercracker’s voice was accompanied by Starscream’s purr.

The commands spilled after that.

“Tighter,” Starscream ordered.

“Use two digits,” Thundercracker asked.

“Make sure to press into that one cable,” Starscream noted.

Skywarp’s processor was swimming in dizzying charge as he listened to his trinemates. His thumb found a thick cable and pitched it as two digits worked harder into his valve. Faintly, he could hear their fans whirring in the patchy comm, knowing all too well they were getting off on this as much as him. The bond seemed to even flare as their moods and desires sync.

“Bet you miss my valve,” Skywarp wheezed out, needing to feel more through the bond, needing to push them. “Both being inside me.”

“Skies,” Thundercracker’s voice could barely be heard above the static of the call.

“Only you could handle that,” Starscream spoke both with sarcasm and a hint of smug pride.

Hearing their reactions combined with his feverous movements had Skywarp overloading quickly.

For a moment, Skywarp felt it. That pull in the bond when they all dragged each other into an overload. Like live wires in water set to a spark-stopping voltage. As quick as it happened, it was gone, leaving a hollow feeling in Skywarp’s spark. He panted softly, his senses heightened as he strained to hear his trinemates, feel their heat that wasn’t there, the touch that wouldn’t come. They were stretched in the most opposite corners of deep space.

“I miss you two,” Thundercracker said quietly, nearly drowned out by the white noise.

“I demand you two on Cybertron, preferably sooner than later,” Starscream snipped, his own way of admitting his loneliness in missing them.

Skywarp opened his mouth to make a smart remark but the comm cut, leaving a silence cut by the wind outside his shelter.