Ours, Mine, Yours (3/3)

[anon_decepticon]

Title: Ours, Mine, Yours
Author: anon_decepticon
Rating: M
Pairing or Character(s): Thundercracker/Skywarp, Skywarp/Thundercracker
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers.
Warning(s): Sticky, comfort sex (Decepticon style), sparksex, references to rape.
Overall Summary: Thundercracker and Skywarp try to find a way to be exclusive in a world where exclusivity is not only taboo, but also highly unfeasible. Summary for Part 3: The spark wants what the spark wants.
Author's Note: Part three of three, Thundercracker's PoV. This is a continuation of the G1 fic continuity that follows my third, fourth and tenth fics for the kink meme, Skywarp Goes Solo, Thunderstruck and Grounded. Parts 1 and 2 are here and here. Many thanks as always to kookaburra1701 for playing sounding board and offering her support when I got stuck on this chapter, to astersyn, who was kind enough to draw me a wonderful piece of fanart for this series, and to my FFN reader sphinx01 for general inspiration – answering her questions on my Personal Canon Meme post helped the nebulous ideas I had floating around in my head for this story finally resolve themselves into a full-blown plot. Thanks for reading!



Part 3: Yours

Thundercracker was slouched on the berth in his quarters, trying to focus on the datapad in his hands and ignore the nagging ache in his valve, when Skywarp returned.

“Hey, TC,” Skywarp greeted him.

“Hey, ‘Warp,” he replied absently. “How’d it go?”

“Got it,” Skywarp replied smugly. “Stupid squishies never even knew what hit ‘em.”

“Good job,” he said, not raising his optics from the datapad.

Skywarp plucked it out of his hands, “You been reading all day? Sheesh, TC; you’re so boring.”

He glared at him. Skywarp responded by tossing the datapad over his shoulder-vent and climbing on top of him, pressing in close, getting right in his faceplate. “Missed you,” he said, low and suggestive.

He pushed him away. “Not in the mood, ‘Warp.”

“Aw, c’mon, TC!” Skywarp replied, pawing at his wings and grinding enthusiastically against him. “I’ve been on my own all day! I’m all wound up, I wanna ‘face.”

“I don’t,” he said coldly.

Skywarp grinned. “Not yet you don’t,” he said slyly, reaching down to grope his panel.

Thundercracker hit him.

His optics widened in shock even as his fist crashed into Skywarp’s faceplate, knocking him clean off the berth. He hadn’t meant to do that; he hadn’t meant to hit ‘Warp – he hadn’t even been doing anything all that annoying!

“What the frag, TC!” Skywarp said from the floor, sounding aggrieved and more than a little torqued off as he struggled to his feet. “I should kick your skidplate for that!”

“You could try,” he growled back, but he didn’t mean it.

Skywarp opened his mouth to issue a retort, raising a fist to hit him; Thundercracker met his optics squarely, challenging him with his gaze.

The blow never came. Skywarp’s fist quivered for a moment in midair, and then lowered. “What is with you, TC?” he asked. “You suck a bird up your turbines, or what?”

Thundercracker flinched inwardly at his tone. Skywarp sounded almost painfully bewildered. An unfamiliar surge of guilt rose up in his spark, smothering his mild irritation. He was being an aft; he knew that. Skywarp hadn’t done anything to slag him off; hitting him had been pure reflex.

Skywarp stared at him for a moment more, then sat down on his berth with a huff, regarding him with that reproachful, kicked-turbopuppy look he got when Thundercracker refused to help with one of his pranks.

The feeling of guilt grew. He’d been looking forward to seeing Skywarp when Megatron had issued his summons; he’d known at the time ‘Warp would be equally eager to see him. He tried to imagine how he’d feel if ‘Warp had returned and greeted him with a cold glare and a punch in the faceplate.

“C’mere, dimspark,” he grumbled begrudgingly.

Skywarp beamed and bounced up off the berth, tackling him. Thundercracker grunted as he suddenly found himself with an armful of enthusiastic Seeker. “What’s the matter, TC?” Skywarp crooned teasingly, groping for his wings. “You miss me that much? Huh?”

He shook his helm in resignation, smiling in spite of himself. “Yeah, ‘Warp. I missed you.”

Skywarp laughed at that, clearly delighted. An astrosecond later, his expression shifted from smug and playful to dark and seductive. “You wanna ‘face me?” he purred suggestively.

“Yeah,” he said. It wasn’t a lie; with Skywarp pressed this close to him, his circuits had begun to heat up a little. He reached up to trace Skywarp’s intakes, rumbling with desire.

Skywarp leaned eagerly into the touch, stroking his wings.

Thundercracker groaned, pressing into his hands, leaning forward to grind his cockpit against Skywarp’s. Why had he been so resistant? This was nice.

But then Skywarp flexed one of his ailerons, and amid the surge of pleasure Thundercracker was unpleasantly reminded of other hands, other touches recently bestowed on him, touches that had been far less welcome. He drew back slightly, uncertain. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

Skywarp frowned when his efforts failed to elicit the response he was expecting, but a moment later he grinned wickedly, his optics lighting with lascivious mischief. Pulling away from Thundercracker’s hands, he sat up and edged backward, reaching down to rub Thundercracker’s panel. “Open up,” he said.

Thundercracker eyed him warily. The last time Skywarp had said that to him, ‘Warp had used his glossa – on his valve. Thundercracker had never felt anything like it – it had felt incredible, so good that by the time he’d stopped, Thundercracker would have done virtually anything to feel Skywarp’s spike inside him. He’d wanted ‘Warp in his valve so badly it was almost frightening, but in the end it had been worth it – he’d overloaded hard when Skywarp finally jacked in, so hard he’d nearly offlined. And as unbelievable as that was, a few kliks later, Skywarp had overloaded him again.

The memory alone made him shiver with lust, a slow shudder running through his frame.

But in spite of that, he was hesitant to comply. The ache in his valve had diminished only slightly in the intervening joors, and while Skywarp’s attentions that day had felt good enough to make Thundercracker temporarily forget the pain of the injuries he’d had at the time, those injuries hadn’t been to his valve. As sore as it was now, the mere thought of letting Skywarp ‘face him made him want to wince.

Skywarp noticed his reluctance and started pouting, eyeing him sulkily. “C’mon, TC,” he said petulantly, drawing out his nickname in a wheedling whine. “Starscream’s not the only one who can suck a spike; I’m good at it too!”

Suck a – oh. That was different, not to mention highly appealing. He’d assumed Skywarp was after his valve, but that obviously wasn’t the case. He transmitted the command to retract his panel without a second thought, rumbling in anticipation as his spike extended.

Skywarp keened eagerly, holding his gaze as he maneuvered himself into position to take him into his mouth. Thundercracker groaned as ‘Warp’s lip components closed around his spike, drawing him in, his optics dimming as he gave himself over to the sensation. Skywarp hummed as he worked him with a steady rhythm, his hands sliding up Thundercracker’s thighs, urging them further apart.

Thundercracker complied with the tacit request, spreading his legs wider and suppressing a wince as the movement put pressure on his damaged valve, sending a sharp twinge of pain shooting through his circuits, drawing a soft grunt from his vocalizer. He did his best to ignore the painful reminder and focus on the pleasure ‘Warp was providing him, reaching down to stroke Skywarp’s helm with an encouraging rumble. He wasn’t going to think about Megatron. He was going to relax and enjoy this –

Skywarp hummed eagerly around his spike, leaning in closer to try and take in more of him – inadvertently placing most of his weight onto Thundercracker’s parted thighs.

Thundercracker twitched and cried out, his spike retracting abruptly in response to the sudden burst of unexpected pain, the damaged sensors in his valve singing a strident chorus of agony.

Skywarp’s optics widened in surprise – and then narrowed in suspicion.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Skywarp was already moving, seizing his legs and yanking them upward, hoisting Thundercracker half off the berth with a reverberating snarl.

Far from pleased at being so rudely upended, Thundercracker immediately began to struggle, clawing at the berth and nearly kicking ‘Warp in the faceplate as he endeavored to free himself, but his hands couldn’t get a purchase on the smooth metal; he didn’t have the leverage he needed to escape Skywarp’s determined grip.

“Let go of me, ‘Warp!” he bellowed threateningly. He felt unspeakably vulnerable, his spark pulsing in apprehension – the position Skywarp had him in was disturbingly reminiscent of the one Megatron had chosen – “Let go of me, or I swear I’ll kick your fragging head in!”

Skywarp ignored his threats and protests, nimbly ducking the kicks Thundercracker aimed at his helm, his attention focused on Thundercracker’s interface array.

“Your valve is scuffed, TC,” Skywarp said quietly.

Thundercracker’s spark sank. He ceased his struggles, going limp in Skywarp’s hold. “Let go of me,” he said again. This time it wasn’t a threat.

Skywarp released him abruptly; he fell back to the berth with a loud clank.

His circuits burning with humiliation at Skywarp’s impromptu inspection, Thundercracker sheepishly closed his panel and sat up, glancing nervously at his trinemate.

He couldn’t see his face. Skywarp had turned his back on him. ‘Warp’s hands were clenched into fists, his posture tense, his wings quivering minutely.

“’Warp –?” he ventured hesitantly.

“You just couldn’t wait, huh TC?” Skywarp said bitterly.

“What are you talking about?” he said, frowning in confusion. Wait for what?

“Who was it?” Skywarp asked, his vocalizer low and strained, trying for casual but coming out forced.

“’Warp, what –”

Skywarp rounded on him, his optics blazing a livid crimson. “Who. Was it?” he demanded.

Thundercracker’s optics widened in shock. Skywarp was angry. Angrier than he’d ever seen him. “‘Warp, come on –” he began.

“Couldn’t have been Screamer,” Skywarp spat venomously, his lip components contorting into a scowl. “He’d never do it, not in a million vorns. So who was it? Who’d you let ‘face you?”

Thundercracker stared at him, stunned. A curious pulse ran through his spark. ‘Warp wasn’t just angry, he was incensed, literally trembling with ill-concealed rage. It didn’t make sense. ‘Warp had never cared who he ‘faced before – although admittedly Thundercracker didn’t get around nearly as much as Skywarp himself did – so why was he slagged off now? “What difference does it make?” he asked defensively.

“I’m the one who gets your valve, TC!” Skywarp shouted. “Not some other fragger, me!” he said, indicating himself with a jerk of his thumb.

Thundercracker couldn’t believe his audials. Skywarp was jealous, angered by the thought of some other mech gaining Thundercracker’s attentions, enraged at the discovery of evidence that Thundercracker had been fragged by someone else!

…jealous the way he’d been jealous whenever ‘Warp went flitting off to get his gears stripped by some other mech, or when he’d leave their quarters abruptly – sometimes in the middle of an interface – to respond to one of Megatron’s...service requests.

Thundercracker had always been ashamed of those feelings, of his own weakness for having them. He wasn’t supposed to care about that; Decepticons never cared about things like that, never forged personal ties –

The revelation made his spark swell with sudden, inexplicable joy.

Skywarp was jealous of him, too.

“‘Warp…” he said softly, overcome by emotion. “I –”

“Who was it, TC?” Skywarp persisted, unaware of his epiphany. “I wanna know who it was! Who’s the fragger you liked so much you couldn’t wait for me, you just had to open up and spread ‘em?”

Thundercracker’s circuits heated in outrage. Skywarp thought he’d wanted to be fragged? That he’d actually gone looking for it?! “I didn’t have a choice, you stupid –!” he blurted out before he could stop himself, muting his vocalizer an astrosecond too late to contain the inadvertent admission.

Skywarp stiffened, his optics widening. An astrosecond later they narrowed again, and 'Warp looked, if possible, even angrier than before. “I’ll kill him,” he growled viciously. “Tell me who it was, TC!" he demanded. "I swear, I’ll rip that fragger’s spark right out of his chamber! Who was it? Who forced you?”

His spark surged with another irrational burst of joy at Skywarp’s words, even as his processor declared them an empty threat. Even if it hadn’t been Megatron, even if it'd been what Skywarp assumed, a fellow soldier assaulting another, not simply a superior exercising his right to command a subordinate, he knew Skywarp would never do it. For all his faults, Skywarp was loyal – perhaps the most loyal ‘Con in the ranks. He’d never murder another Decepticon, not for something so…so petty.

“It was Megatron,” he said. “While you were gone he summoned me to his quarters.”

“Oh,” Skywarp said, visibly wilting, his anger dissipating like smoke. He slouched back against the wall, his shoulder-vents slumping in defeat.

Thundercracker did the same. Their wingtips scraped with the movement.

For several kliks they sat in tense silence, not looking at one another.

“So, uh…Megatron commed you, huh?” Skywarp ventured cautiously.

He glanced over at him, but ‘Warp wasn’t looking at him. He was staring up at the ceiling, studiously avoiding his gaze and looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he said. “He commed me.”

“What about Starscream?” Skywarp asked.

“Repair bay,” he said shortly. “Fragged him off right after you left, told him his new plan wasn’t worth scrap or something, got slagged for it. I don’t know the details. Didn’t ask.”

“Huh,” Skywarp said. “Guess that makes sense. Never thought he’d comm you though.”

“Neither did I,” he rumbled bitterly. “Dunno know why he did.”

“He likes Seekers,” Skywarp said with a shrug. “Ol’ Megs, he's got a thing for Seekers.”

“Yeah. I kinda got that,” he replied dryly. The way Megatron had touched him had suggested intimate knowledge of a Seeker’s frame. It wasn’t an uncommon fetish among Cybertronians; Seekers were considered highly attractive, and had a reputation for always being up for a ‘face or a ‘facing. “Probably figures we’re all the same,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I guess,” Skywarp said. “He definitely knows what he’s doing though, all the right spots...” He trailed off, falling silent for a few astroseconds, then spoke up again haltingly, “You, uh…you probably liked it a lot, huh? Him ‘facing you?”

Thundercracker turned his helm to stare at him incredulously, but Skywarp still wasn’t looking at him. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his lip components curved in a faint, worried frown.

“Was he…” Skywarp laughed nervously, reset his vocalizer and tried again. “D-did you like it better with him than with me? Is that…is that why you don’t wanna ‘face me now?”

He couldn’t believe his audials. “I didn’t like it at all,” he said, using his patented ‘Warp-you’re-an-idiot tone, carefully enunciating each word.

Skywarp finally looked at him, meeting his gaze with startled optics. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he replied emphatically. “It sucked slag.”

Skywarp looked shocked, confused, and faintly dubious. “But…Megatron’s good in the berth,” he said. “I mean really good. And he’s – you honestly didn’t like it?”

“No,” he repeated with exaggerated patience. “I didn’t like it.”

Skywarp looked nonplussed. “Not even when he overloaded you?”

“He didn’t overload me, dimspark,” he retorted derisively. “He fragged me. And I didn’t like it, because I never like it. I hate being fragged in the valve.”

Skywarp stared at him, taken aback. “You liked it when I did it,” he said reproachfully.

He huffed irritably, his circuits heating with embarrassment. “That was different,” he muttered.

“How?” Skywarp sounded genuinely puzzled.

He rumbled in frustration. “I don’t know, ‘Warp,” he said impatiently. “It just was.”

Silence.

Thundercracker couldn’t really blame Skywarp for his confusion – he shared it. He honestly didn’t know why it had been different those times ‘Warp had done it to him; it should have been the same as it always was, the way it had been the first time he let ‘Warp have his valve. That night in the brig, that day he’d been shot down –

“Was he angry?” Skywarp asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “When Megatron commed you, did he seem torqued off?”

He gave him a puzzled glance. “Not really,” he replied. He thought for a moment, and shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“So when you got there, he just jacked in?”

He shook his helm, “No, he – I thought he was going to; he pushed me down on the berth – but then he just started feeling up my wings.”

“Hard, or soft?” ‘Warp asked.

He thought about it a moment. “Hard, I guess,” he said. “But not too hard,” he amended. “It was rougher than I normally like, but it wasn’t – it didn’t hurt or anything.”

Skywarp turned to face him fully, placing his palm flat against Thundercracker’s wing at the juncture where it met his chassis. “Like this?” he asked, pressing hard as he slid his hand along its length, concluding the stroke by wrapping his fingers around the tip and squeezing firmly.

Thundercracker’s core temperature spiked, and he gasped and shuddered at the wave of pleasure being fed back through the stimulated sensor nodes. “Yeah,” he said, his vocalizer clouded with a hint of static.

“And you didn’t like that?” Skywarp asked in amazement.

Thundercracker wasn’t offended by the question; because of the way they were wired, the layout of their sensor nets, few Seekers would turn down a request to interface after a little wing play, regardless of who was giving it. That was just the way it was. “Well, yeah,” he admitted with a half-shrug. “That part was okay.”

“But then he jacked in?” Skywarp guessed, continuing to stroke his wing slowly, almost lazily.

“No, he –” Primus, this was embarrassing. He grimaced, shifting uneasily, leaning unconsciously into Skywarp’s touch, into the comforting warmth emanating from his frame. “When I opened up, he…he stuck his fingers in me. You know.”

Skywarp seemed surprised. His hand paused in its movement. “Did you like that?”

“No,” he said.

The hand resumed its gentle stroking. “It hurt?” Skywarp asked.

“…not exactly.”

“So it felt good?”

“No, it felt like he was shoving his slagging fingers up my valve,” he snapped irritably. “He did that for, I don’t know, at least a breem – felt like slagging forever – then he jacked in.”

“Oh,” Skywarp said, edging closer.

“Tried to, anyway,” he muttered, reaching for ‘Warp’s cockpit, absently running a hand over it.

Skywarp drew back slightly to stare at him in bewilderment. “Tried to?”

He shrugged uncomfortably, focusing his attention on his hand sliding over the yellow glass of Skywarp’s cockpit, on his fingers tracing the seams. “I didn’t try to stop him or anything,” he said. “He just…he just didn’t fit. Couldn’t get in all the way.”

“Oh,” Skywarp said again, giving a little hum of encouragement in response to his touch.

“He’s sort of...big,” he added lamely, still stroking. He wasn’t, really. But he’d felt big.

“Yeah,” Skywarp said reminiscently, his lip components twitching into a goofy grin as he arched into his hand with a groan. “Yeah, he is.”

Thundercracker gave him an exasperated look. He wasn’t about to admit how scared he’d been, how certain he was Megatron was going to slag him, but it would have been nice if ‘Warp could have at least shown a little sympathy.

Skywarp’s expression sobered. “Did he get slagged off when he couldn’t get in?” he asked. “Is that when he started hurting you?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Said I was resisting him. I told him I wasn’t, that I just wasn’t used to it. Being fragged, I mean.”

“Did he believe you?”

“I guess,” he replied. “At first he didn’t say anything. Then he –” he broke off abruptly.

“What?”

“He went for my spike,” he muttered sheepishly.

“Wow,” Skywarp said, easing into his lap, straddling his thighs. “You’re lucky – he never touches mine.”

“I didn’t feel lucky,” he grumbled. “I felt like an idiot.”

Skywarp’s hand drifted down to his panel, caressing it lightly, entreatingly. “But you like that, don’t you?”

His panel clicked open obligingly, his spike extending into ‘Warp’s waiting hand. “Usually, yeah.”

Skywarp’s fingers curled around it, stroking along its length, drawing a faint groan from his vocalizer. “So you didn’t like that, either?” he asked.

“I didn’t like him doing it,” he said, shifting his hip plate a little, pushing into ‘Warp’s hand. “It didn’t feel right, him touching me like that.”

“You said you didn’t overload,” Skywarp mused, his hand pumping idly, his movements slow and languid. “Did you tell him to stop?”

He made a derisive noise. “Yeah, right,” he replied. “Mostly I just tried to relax. Figured he’d leave off my spike if he could get in my valve. I was right.”

“And that’s when he fragged you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Took him forever to finish, and he kept making me move around, but in the end he got off and told me I could go.”

“He didn’t hurt you? I thought he hurt you.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “Mainly because he took so slagging long. Plus the last position he had me in was kind of – he kept poking me in a really sensitive spot.”

Skywarp’s hand paused in its motion, eliciting a groan of disappointment. “Sort of on top, kinda towards the back?” he asked, cocking his helm inquiringly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Practically pounded me through the slagging berth. Scraped my wings up, too.”

“Oh,” Skywarp said, frowning faintly.

“Could have been worse,” he said with a shrug.

Skywarp’s frown deepened. “I guess,” he said, eyeing him thoughtfully.

“Could have been a lot worse, believe me,” he said, shifting his hips a little to nudge ‘Warp’s hand with his spike, a not-too-subtle reminder not to get distracted from the task at hand.

Skywarp let go, much to his disappointment. But before he could protest, ‘Warp opened his panel and lifted off of him, positioning himself over his spike and then easing back down again, engulfing him in the snug, slick heat of his valve.

Thundercracker groaned approvingly as he slid into him. Skywarp’s valve felt warm, safe and familiar, his sigh of pleasure soothing to Thundercracker’s audials. He ran his hands up ‘Warp’s thighs, resting them on his hip plate as ‘Warp began to rock gently in his lap.

“Mmmm,” Skywarp hummed appreciatively, his internal fans switching on. “You feel so good, TC. You always feel so good.”

Thundercracker groaned again, his own cooling fans activating, his hands moving from ‘Warp’s hip plate to his wings, gently flexing the ailerons as he leaned in close to mouth his cockpit. “So do you,” he rumbled back.

“Wanted to make you feel like this,” Skywarp moaned, rocking faster. “Wanted to be the only one.”

He lifted his helm to stare at him in surprise. “I’ve done it before, ‘Warp,” he said. “Maybe not a lot, but you’re not the only mech to get in my valve. It’s not like you broke my seal.”

Skywarp paused in mid-motion. “Oh,” he said, crestfallen. “Right.”

He looked so disappointed Thundercracker felt compelled to offer him some form of consolation. “I never overloaded with any of them, though,” he said. “I only ever overloaded with you.”

Skywarp grinned at that. “Yeah,” he said proudly. He resumed his rhythm, grabbing hold of Thundercracker’s wings for support as he began to ride him in earnest. “Only with me,” he panted. “You only overload for me.”

The words sent a chill through his spark.

Skywarp noticed his distraction, the way he tensed beneath him. “What’s wrong?”

“Megatron,” he said. “I think he was annoyed that I didn’t overload for him. He said…he said next time, he’d make me.”

Skywarp halted abruptly, his hands stilling on Thundercracker’s wings. “He said that?” he asked. “That he wanted to frag you again? That he’d overload you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I won’t do it. If he summons me again, I won’t go.”

Skywarp stared at him in dismay. “He’ll slag you, TC.”

“Probably,” he agreed grimly.

Skywarp shook his helm. “No,” he said, wrapping his arms around him. “TC, no.”

Thundercracker embraced him in return, rolling them over and pressing him back onto the berth, his spark pulsing in its chamber. “I can handle it,” he said. Megatron would most likely beat him to scrap for refusing, or worse, beat him to scrap and then frag him – but he said it anyway. He’d have said anything to take that look off ‘Warp’s faceplate. “He won’t deactivate me,” he assured him. “He can’t afford to – the Autobots outnumber us as it is. Starscream’s done a lot worse, and he hasn’t offed him. I’ll be fine.”

Skywarp was shaking his helm and seemed likely to argue, so Thundercracker kissed him, slow and deep, tasting the faint traces of energon on his glossa. Skywarp whimpered and clung to him, kissing him back with ardent fervor, his legs drawing up to twine around him, wrapping tightly around his waist components.

Thundercracker began to move again, thrusting into him slowly, matching the rhythm with his glossa, sucking lightly on ‘Warp’s lip components, his hands drifting over Skywarp’s wings and cockpit, exploring every inch of him with gentle caresses.

Skywarp moaned against his mouth, rolling his hips to meet each thrust, but after a klik he broke the kiss, panting. “You have to do it, TC,” he said. “You have to – he won’t give up – he’ll hurt you –”

Thundercracker drew back slightly, pausing in his rhythm to gaze down at him, drinking in the sight of him like high-grade. Primus, he was so beautiful. “I know,” he said. “But I won’t do it, ‘Warp. Not again.”

“It’s just ‘facing,” ‘Warp said, his tone almost pleading. “He’s not so bad; you could –”

He kissed him again to muffle his entreaty, renewing his thrusts, plunging his spike deep into that warm, eager valve until Skywarp shuddered and moaned, arching beneath him.

“Stupid, stubborn slagger,” Skywarp hissed, breaking free of his mouth and scraping his hands roughly over his wings, seizing hold of his ailerons and twisting them hard, making Thundercracker gasp with a mix of pain and pleasure.

“You want me to do it, ‘Warp?” he growled, quickening his pace, pumping his spike rapidly in and out of Skywarp’s valve, punctuating his words with fierce thrusts. “Just let him frag me whenever he wants?”

“Yes,” Skywarp mewled, grinding feverishly against him, his hip plate rising to greet each stroke. “Yes, yes, anything, yes!”

“You want me to overload for him, like I do for you?” he rumbled aggressively, pounding into him, swift and merciless. “You wanna share me with him?”

Skywarp gave a low, keening whine, shaking his helm, his fingers scrabbling at his wings, seeking purchase and finding none.

Thundercracker drove into him again and again, pushing ever closer to the brink, striving desperately for that moment of blissful release when time stopped and nothing mattered but those few stolen astroseconds of ecstasy, free from thought or fear or reason –

A curious hissing noise distracted him, a sound of depressurizing hydraulics and shifting metal that made him falter in his frantic rhythm, and suddenly he was bathed in a brilliant, shimmering light.

Skywarp had retracted his cockpit, exposing his spark.

“I don’t wanna share, TC,” Skywarp whispered, clinging to him. “I wanna be yours. I want something that’s just ours; yours and mine.”

Thundercracker stared at him in stunned disbelief, shaken to the core by the sheer enormity of what Skywarp was offering him. The light of ‘Warp’s bared spark washed over them, a scintillating eldritch glow that pulsed and throbbed like a living thing – which of course, it was.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Skywarp’s offer was humbling and terrifying and utterly insane, and his processor kept insisting that he shouldn’t even be contemplating it, but he’d still had to override the command to open his own chestplates at least twice already. Within its chamber, his spark was rebelling against all common sense, swelling and reaching for Skywarp's, threatening to burst free and take him of its own accord, pulsing with recognition and a sweet, terrible longing, yearning to merge with an ache so deep and profound it almost hurt –

A low, helpless groan escaped his vocalizer as he surrendered to his spark’s desire, stopped transmitting the override code and allowed his chestplates to part, baring his spark in return. The combined light of their pulsing sparks blinded his optics, but he could hear Skywarp moaning at the sight, whispering his name as Thundercracker leaned into him.

He cried out in startled ecstasy as their sparks touched, pleasure shooting through him like a thousand overloads packed into the space of a single astrosecond, only it didn’t stop, it went on and on. The shifting coronas of their sparks blended and overlapped, small threadlike tendrils of energy rising up to coil between them like a hundred tiny hands, reaching out and grasping hold of one another, drawing them in...

Their cores met, met and merged, and suddenly he was inside Skywarp – no, he was Skywarp, and Skywarp was him, and Thundercracker didn’t know anymore where one of them ended and the other began. Caught up in the onslaught of sensation and emotion, he resumed his thrusts, driving his spike into Skywarp’s valve in sheer desperation – it was too much, too much and yet not enough, he needed to move, to ground himself in that tight, exquisite heat –

Skywarp keened hungrily, crushing him close, trembling and straining, his hip plate surging up to meet him, caught up in the same urgent need for release from that overwhelming, all-consuming ecstasy. Their fevered coupling strained the connection between their sparks, made them shift against one another as their bodies moved in unison, the crackling tendrils of energy stretching almost to the point of severance and then pulling back in again, causing the waves of pleasure to swell and ebb in synchronous rhythm, growing and building and oh, Primus, he could feel him, not just the exquisite friction of his spike sliding in and out of Skywarp’s valve, but Skywarp’s pleasure, Skywarp’s need melding seamlessly with his own, and beneath it all that part of him-not-him that was essentially, inherently Skywarp – selfish and cruel, sly and teasing, mischievous and playful and impulsive and passionate and, and –

Skywarp loved him.

Thundercracker sobbed through his intakes as the certainty of the emotion flooded over him, merging with the intense pleasure coursing through his circuitry. Beneath him, he heard Skywarp whimper and knew he'd had had a similar revelation, learning the truth at last that Thundercracker had denied for so long, hidden even from himself –

He loved Skywarp, too.

The realization was accompanied by a burst of elation he sensed was not entirely his own, a feeling of unutterable joy and unrestrained adoration suffusing their sparks and sending them crashing into overload, their systems overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion too vast to be contained, and in that moment of perfect union, Thundercracker felt with absolute certainty the simultaneous assertion wordlessly voiced by their conjoined sparks –

I’m yours.

**

He onlined wrapped in Skywarp’s arms, his circuits humming with a curious contentment that was unlike anything Thundercracker had ever felt before, a sense of peace and fulfillment and languorous bliss that made him cycle a slow, shuddering sigh through his intakes, settling deeper into his lover’s embrace.

Skywarp stirred at the sound, onlining his optics, and Thundercracker met his gaze with a look of affection, feeling his spark pulse in recognition even though they were no longer merged, their chestplates having closed as their systems rebooted, breaking the connection.

“Hi,” Skywarp whispered.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

‘Warp’s lip components quirked in a triumphant smirk. “You love me,” he said smugly.

“So do you,” he retorted, too amused to sound convincingly defensive.

Skywarp’s expression softened. “Yeah,” he said, and Thundercracker felt it, felt the truth behind the words, felt the emotion that inspired them.

His optics widened in alarm.

Skywarp tensed under him. “TC? What's wrong? You’re scared.”

He could still feel him, feel ‘Warp’s confusion and concern, emotions that were not his own coursing through his spark! He drew back, disturbed by the sense of other within him, even though the presence was one he recognized, one he trusted.

“What is it, TC?” Skywarp asked. “Why are you afraid?”

“How do you know I’m afraid, ‘Warp?” he asked pointedly.

Skywarp frowned in puzzlement for all of an astrosecond before realization dawned. “I can feel you,” he whispered. “Primus, TC, I can still feel you!”

He was frightened; under the circumstances there was no way to deny it. He raised himself up on his elbows, trying to lift off Skywarp, to pull away, but ‘Warp’s arms tightened around him, preventing his retreat. “What is this?” he asked, unable to conceal the quaver in his vocalizer. “Why didn’t it go away?”

“I think…it’s a spark bond,” Skywarp replied hesitantly. “I think it’s supposed to be like this.”

He could feel that too, ‘Warp’s uncertainty, but also his happiness – Skywarp liked the idea of being bonded to him, of being able to feel him all the time, even though what he was feeling in that moment could have only been Thundercracker’s growing apprehension.

“You don’t have to be scared, TC,” Skywarp said. “You never have to be scared with me.”

He couldn’t help but be calmed by that, because Skywarp’s reassurance went beyond mere words. Thundercracker could feel ‘Warp’s trust and devotion washing over him, resonating truth to his very core. Overwhelmed by the implications, he sank slowly back down into his embrace. “What did we do?” he whispered.

“We spark-bonded,” Skywarp said. “I heard about it once, a long time ago – back on Cybertron, before the war, lots of mechs and femmes did it. But no one really does anymore. I’m not sure why. I know you’re afraid, TC, but I know you wanted it, too. I felt it.”

That, too, rang true. He had wanted it. He still wanted it. To be his.

“Don’t you see, TC?” Skywarp said. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Not Megatron, not Starscream, not any of it – no matter who we ‘face, who ‘faces us – we’ll always have something they can never touch, something that’s just ours.”

That was…comforting in a way Thundercracker hadn’t expected it to be. “Yeah,” he said, feeling a significant degree of tension lifting from his frame – but not all of it. Skywarp’s words had reminded him of the unpleasant reality he’d been trying to forget. “I don’t want to do it again, ‘Warp,” he said. “It’s better, knowing you –” he faltered, shaking his helm, and pressed on, “it’s better, but I still don’t want to do it.”

Apparently it was a perk of their fledgling bond that he didn’t have to explain what he meant; ‘Warp knew. “I don’t understand,” Skywarp said. “I know you didn’t like it, but I don’t get why. It’s just ‘facing, TC. He didn’t hurt you, and as long as you don’t slag him off, he probably won’t. He’ll probably even overload you. What’s so bad about that?”

“I hate it,” he said, his fuel tank churning in revulsion, his CPU assaulted by memory files of being held down, of being derided and humiliated, used and hurt –

Skywarp stared at him. “You really do,” he said, startled. “Why, TC?”

“Because I hate being used like that!” he burst out, his circuits heating with shame.

Skywarp’s optics widened fractionally, and Thundercracker felt more than saw the comprehension dawn in them, realizing too late that his emotions had communicated far more than he’d intended to reveal.

“Someone did force you, didn’t they?” ‘Warp asked carefully. “Not Megatron, not like that – someone else. They made you do it. They hurt you.”

He couldn’t lie. With their new empathic connection, ‘Warp would sense it. “Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly.

“When?”

“Cybertron,” he replied shortly. “A long time ago.”

“Who was it?" Skywarp asked. "What was his name? Did you know him?”

He didn’t want to tell ‘Warp who it had been. They hadn’t known each other then, but Skywarp had trained under Steelwing, too – all the Seekers of their generation had. Back then, Steelwing had been regarded by many as a hero, a veteran of numerous successful campaigns. Everyone had admired him, eagerly swapping tales of his exploits.

When Steelwing had ordered Thundercracker to report to his office, he’d been elated, imagining with naïve enthusiasm that the renowned warrior must have recognized some unique merit in him, that he intended to give Thundercracker some special assignment or honor, maybe even take him under his wing as his personal protégé. He’d been so proud to have caught the legendary commander’s optic, to have impressed him enough to be singled out from his peers.

He’d gone expecting praise. He’d gotten something else.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “He was deactivated a long time ago. He’s rust.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No,” he said. “Primus, ‘Warp, I was –” He huffed through his intakes. “He died in the war, like a lot of mechs. I didn’t kill him.”

“I would have,” Skywarp said. “If he’d done that to me, I’d have killed him.”

“No you wouldn’t,” he replied bitterly. Any more than you’d kill Megatron, he thought. Pit, you’d probably be jealous if you knew. Your trinemate got fragged by Steelwing, lost his seal to a living legend – what Seeker wouldn’t envy that?

The bitterness underlying his tone was only a fraction of what he actually felt, and Thundercracker could sense Skywarp’s curiosity, his concern, but ‘Warp didn’t press him for details, instead reaching out to stroke his faceplate, regarding him with sympathetic optics. For some reason, Thundercracker didn’t feel compelled to object to the coddling gesture.

“I’m gonna fix it, TC,” Skywarp assured him. “I’ll figure out a way to deal with Megatron. I’ll take care of it.”

He meant it; Thundercracker could feel that. The sentiment echoed through the bond, filling his spark with Skywarp’s determination. In his own way, ‘Warp was trying to comfort him.

A part of him wanted to believe it, to believe the pulsing of his spark that told him his lover really could fix anything, surmount any obstacle, but Thundercracker knew reality had a way of dashing idealistic dreams.

“Okay, ‘Warp,” he said. “Whatever you say.”


*fin* (for now)

A/N: Bit of a downer ending, I know, but I just couldn’t see TC being all that chipper under the circumstances. There will be an additional fic to follow this one, which will address Skywarp’s solution to the Megatron problem, just as soon as I find time to write it. Thanks for reading!

EDIT: Thar be moar porn! Phase One of Skywarp's Solution is here.