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shadow_vector2010-04-03 06:34 pm
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Entry tags:
Sky and Ground 13 Overhead
NC-17
Sticky, angst, dubcon s/m
Starscream/Skywarp
Starscream had been lurking, patiently, around the edges of his conscience all day. Skywarp had shut his subvoc channel, remembering Starscream’s words from yesterday, “We need to talk about this.” Prodding, even just with his presence, reminding Skywarp of things he didn’t want to think about. Had deliberately avoided thinking about. Instead, he’d buried himself in his IG work, for once scheduling, and keeping, a series of interviews with the engineering crew. Morale was at a friable state on the station, so much so that combat efficiency had dropped off precipitously. And what Megatron would tolerate under his command got jerked up short when combat stats ran low. Hence, an Inspector General investigation.
Every time he looked at a mech, though, the question was in the back of his processor. Had you? Were you one of them? One of those who had done…that to Barricade? He wanted to kill them. Anyone who had ever put a talon or claw or digit on Barricade. Taken part, or even just observed. And I know, he thought, that means I’ve lost my objectivity. The whole reason I was sent here was to be objective. The loyal one. I know it means I’m too damn close.
Starscream eventually reached over and flicked off the datapad Skywarp was pretending to study. Not that he could learn any more by staring at the engineering shift rosters, anyway. He looked up, irritated. Go away, Starscream. I do not want to talk about it. He tried to radiate the message through his frame, so he wouldn’t have to start a confrontation.
“You heard him,” Starscream said, talons closing over the pad. “What have you done?”
Oh, don’t remind me. What have I done? “Fucked everything up,” he said, flatly. He jerked the datapad out of Starscream’s grasp.
“No, you have not.” Something struck the bronze jet as faintly amusing. Skywarp glowered him down.
“You know, YOU know above everyone, that I can’t do it. You know I can’t.”
“I think you can. You have managed fine with Thundercracker and myself over the megacycles.”
Skywarp flinched, pushed out of his chair, pacing. Trying to get away. No point: Starscream would follow him. Even on a flight. “You and he are stuck with me: that’s why. I should never have dragged him into this.”.
“Nonsense.” Starscream lowered himself into the seat Skywarp had vacated. “You wanted him. And he had a choice. HAS a choice. Many points at which he could have said no. Is it fair to deny him his choice?”
Skywarp moved to sit on the console, folding his arms over his chassis defensively. “He didn’t know what a bad bargain he was getting.”
“He might say the same thing.” Starscream extended one foot, locking its toes over Skywarp’s thigh armor. Just in case the black jet wanted to leave. Starscream was going to say his piece, and Skywarp was going to damn well listen. “You cannot deny yourself every time you want something, Skywarp. That is no way to live.”
Skywarp tried to summon an angry expression at the toes locked over one of his thigh plates, but the corners of his mouth jerked down. “I’m not good for him.”
“You are good for him. You did not know him before, Skywarp, so you have not seen the changes.”
“Going to make him miserable.”
“You do not know that. And even so, miserable would be a step above where he was.” Skywarp knew his history. He heard the resonance behind the words. Skywarp sighed, folding his arms over his chassis, leveling a steady glare at his Trinemate.
“There’s one way this ends, and that’s badly. I can’t give him what he needs. I know that. I KNOW that.”
“So you refuse to even try.”
“You don’t win a war by engaging in battles you know you’ll lose.”
“This is not war, Skywarp. Keep your battlefield sages—who were no doubt lonely and miserable themselves—for what they are worth.”
“I can’t do it.”
A soft laugh. “You do not know that either.”
“I’m in over my head. You know that. Onslaught knows that. Everyone knows it.”
“Oh? You have discussed this with Onslaught?”
“None of your business.” Starscream raised a supraorbital ridge. “Fine, yes. I’ve talked with Onslaught.”
“And what does he say?”
“He thinks I’m in denial.”
“Onslaught may have a point.”
Skywarp’s hands twitched in irritation, toying aimlessly with the datapad. “He’s biased.”
“Onslaught?” Starscream just let the question in all its ludicrousness hang there. Skywarp shook his head, as if trying to dispel the question. “So, I am curious that you have been discussing your love life with Onslaught again.”
“It’s not my ‘love’ life.”
“Is it not?” Starscream’s turn to stare down.
“He doesn’t judge me. Unlike someone.”
“Ah. Of course. And what does Onslaught have to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“You want a direct quote? Fine, he said, ‘I did not think I would ever live to see anything make you afraid, Skywarp.’”
Starscream smiled, gently. “He does see right through you.”
“Shut up.”
Starscream sat forward, reaching one hand to pull one of Skywarp’s off his chassis. “Make me,” he goaded, pulling Skywarp in to loom over him.
“Don’t,” Skywarp said, with a strange helplessness in his tone, his optics shuttering closed as Starscream kissed the palm of his hand.
“Why not?” the bronze jet murmured, reaching with his other hand for Skywarp’s interface hatch. “You know you always open up best this way.” He stroked gentle fingers over Skywarp’s spike cover, sliding the oozed lubricant down the spike as it emerged. The black jet shuddered. Skywarp snatched at Starscream’s hands, pinning them over his head on the backrest of the chair, hot vents of air gusting down at Starscream.
“Ask him,” Starscream whispered, arching over to press his face against the armor plate of one of Skywarp’s pinioning wrists. “Ask him if he regrets getting involved. What do you think his answer would be, Skywarp?”
“He doesn’t know any better!” Skywarp cried out. He tightened his grip until Starscream gave a small mew of pain.
“Did Onslaught? Did I? Should we not have known better?”
“You,” Skywarp hissed, “deserve the continual malfunction. He—Barricade—does not.” He snapped open Starscream’s interface cover. Starscream sucked in a breath in anticipation. “Does he?” Skywarp rammed his spike into Starscream’s hastily-uncovered valve. “Does he deserve this?”
“You need not—“ Starscream gasped, breathless, at Skywarp’s thrusts. “You cannot live your whole life under Thundercracker’s shadow.”
“Shadow?!” He squeezed harder at Starscream’s wrists, shifting his grip to hold them both with one hand. His other raked down Starscream’s underarm, sparking down the armor, gouging the cables. Starscream moaned. “He’s ruined us for anything but this, hasn’t he?”
“He has…changed us,” Starscream admitted, clawing one foot at Skywarp, pushing his pelvis away, trying to unseat the spike. “But you need not,” he hissed in pain as Skywarp wrenched at his ankle. “You need not visit this on Barricade.”
“How can I not?” Skywarp’s voice was agony. “It’s just a matter of time.” He snarled, driving his spike fiercely into Starscream’s valve.
“You have…you have spiked him before. It did not happennnnnnaaaaaaugh!” Starscream twisted, his engines scraping the chair’s back, as he tried to dodge Skywarp’s hand, prying under his collar armor.
“I spiked him…ONCE. It was a constant struggle. Sooner or later he’ll catch on. Sooner or later it’ll matter. And then….” He squeezed at Starscream’s throat. The bronze jet bucked under him.
“You arranged Onslaught,” Starscream croaked, trying vainly to pull his neck away.
“That’s mypoint. I couldn’t even watch. I can’t do that—do THIS—to him.” Skywarp twisted his grip, grinding Starscream’s wrists together before releasing them. Starscream’s hands flew to his throat, trying to tear away Skywarp’s choking hand. Skywarp winced, then growled, as Starscream’s talons probed under the armor plating of his wrist. He squeezed harder, driving his long talons against the control cables, the energon line, in Starscream’s throat, his palm muffling the bronze jet’s vocalizer. “But you know I need to,” he whispered.
For a long moment there was no sound but the slick drive of his spike in Starscream’s valve, Starscream’s flickering eyeshutters, and Skywarp’s rhythmic growl. He howled, suddenly, jerking forward to sink his denta into an exposed core-fluid line in Starscream’s shoulder hard enough to rupture the mesh. Starscream’s entire frame spasmed, overloading against his Trine mate’s body, garbled sounds burbling from his covered vocalizer.
They lay together, hyperventing, overheated, limp.
Finally, Skywarp pulled back, wiping the core fluid from his mouth, turning away, embarrassed.
“And then,” Starscream whispered, stroking one long hand down Skywarp’s face, picking up the conversation as if the violence had not happened, “And then, you will come to me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You must. He will understand.”
“How can he when even we don’t understand?”
Starscream pulled his Trine mate closer, running his hands soothingly across Skywarp’s engine mounts. Skywarp took the opportunity to bury his face in Starscream’s shoulder. The same shoulder he had just bitten. He kissed the damaged line, apologetically, as if trying to wipe away the damage with his mouth. “He can understand because he wants to. And because he has his own darkness with which to contend.”
“It’ll ruin him.”
“He feels he is already ruined. As do you.” Starscream struggled upright in the chair, wincing as the black jet’s spike slipped from his valve. “I understand your hesitations, Skywarp. Truly, I do. More than you know. But if you do not ever start because you fear how it will end…?”
Next: Blindside
Sticky, angst, dubcon s/m
Starscream/Skywarp
Starscream had been lurking, patiently, around the edges of his conscience all day. Skywarp had shut his subvoc channel, remembering Starscream’s words from yesterday, “We need to talk about this.” Prodding, even just with his presence, reminding Skywarp of things he didn’t want to think about. Had deliberately avoided thinking about. Instead, he’d buried himself in his IG work, for once scheduling, and keeping, a series of interviews with the engineering crew. Morale was at a friable state on the station, so much so that combat efficiency had dropped off precipitously. And what Megatron would tolerate under his command got jerked up short when combat stats ran low. Hence, an Inspector General investigation.
Every time he looked at a mech, though, the question was in the back of his processor. Had you? Were you one of them? One of those who had done…that to Barricade? He wanted to kill them. Anyone who had ever put a talon or claw or digit on Barricade. Taken part, or even just observed. And I know, he thought, that means I’ve lost my objectivity. The whole reason I was sent here was to be objective. The loyal one. I know it means I’m too damn close.
Starscream eventually reached over and flicked off the datapad Skywarp was pretending to study. Not that he could learn any more by staring at the engineering shift rosters, anyway. He looked up, irritated. Go away, Starscream. I do not want to talk about it. He tried to radiate the message through his frame, so he wouldn’t have to start a confrontation.
“You heard him,” Starscream said, talons closing over the pad. “What have you done?”
Oh, don’t remind me. What have I done? “Fucked everything up,” he said, flatly. He jerked the datapad out of Starscream’s grasp.
“No, you have not.” Something struck the bronze jet as faintly amusing. Skywarp glowered him down.
“You know, YOU know above everyone, that I can’t do it. You know I can’t.”
“I think you can. You have managed fine with Thundercracker and myself over the megacycles.”
Skywarp flinched, pushed out of his chair, pacing. Trying to get away. No point: Starscream would follow him. Even on a flight. “You and he are stuck with me: that’s why. I should never have dragged him into this.”.
“Nonsense.” Starscream lowered himself into the seat Skywarp had vacated. “You wanted him. And he had a choice. HAS a choice. Many points at which he could have said no. Is it fair to deny him his choice?”
Skywarp moved to sit on the console, folding his arms over his chassis defensively. “He didn’t know what a bad bargain he was getting.”
“He might say the same thing.” Starscream extended one foot, locking its toes over Skywarp’s thigh armor. Just in case the black jet wanted to leave. Starscream was going to say his piece, and Skywarp was going to damn well listen. “You cannot deny yourself every time you want something, Skywarp. That is no way to live.”
Skywarp tried to summon an angry expression at the toes locked over one of his thigh plates, but the corners of his mouth jerked down. “I’m not good for him.”
“You are good for him. You did not know him before, Skywarp, so you have not seen the changes.”
“Going to make him miserable.”
“You do not know that. And even so, miserable would be a step above where he was.” Skywarp knew his history. He heard the resonance behind the words. Skywarp sighed, folding his arms over his chassis, leveling a steady glare at his Trinemate.
“There’s one way this ends, and that’s badly. I can’t give him what he needs. I know that. I KNOW that.”
“So you refuse to even try.”
“You don’t win a war by engaging in battles you know you’ll lose.”
“This is not war, Skywarp. Keep your battlefield sages—who were no doubt lonely and miserable themselves—for what they are worth.”
“I can’t do it.”
A soft laugh. “You do not know that either.”
“I’m in over my head. You know that. Onslaught knows that. Everyone knows it.”
“Oh? You have discussed this with Onslaught?”
“None of your business.” Starscream raised a supraorbital ridge. “Fine, yes. I’ve talked with Onslaught.”
“And what does he say?”
“He thinks I’m in denial.”
“Onslaught may have a point.”
Skywarp’s hands twitched in irritation, toying aimlessly with the datapad. “He’s biased.”
“Onslaught?” Starscream just let the question in all its ludicrousness hang there. Skywarp shook his head, as if trying to dispel the question. “So, I am curious that you have been discussing your love life with Onslaught again.”
“It’s not my ‘love’ life.”
“Is it not?” Starscream’s turn to stare down.
“He doesn’t judge me. Unlike someone.”
“Ah. Of course. And what does Onslaught have to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“You want a direct quote? Fine, he said, ‘I did not think I would ever live to see anything make you afraid, Skywarp.’”
Starscream smiled, gently. “He does see right through you.”
“Shut up.”
Starscream sat forward, reaching one hand to pull one of Skywarp’s off his chassis. “Make me,” he goaded, pulling Skywarp in to loom over him.
“Don’t,” Skywarp said, with a strange helplessness in his tone, his optics shuttering closed as Starscream kissed the palm of his hand.
“Why not?” the bronze jet murmured, reaching with his other hand for Skywarp’s interface hatch. “You know you always open up best this way.” He stroked gentle fingers over Skywarp’s spike cover, sliding the oozed lubricant down the spike as it emerged. The black jet shuddered. Skywarp snatched at Starscream’s hands, pinning them over his head on the backrest of the chair, hot vents of air gusting down at Starscream.
“Ask him,” Starscream whispered, arching over to press his face against the armor plate of one of Skywarp’s pinioning wrists. “Ask him if he regrets getting involved. What do you think his answer would be, Skywarp?”
“He doesn’t know any better!” Skywarp cried out. He tightened his grip until Starscream gave a small mew of pain.
“Did Onslaught? Did I? Should we not have known better?”
“You,” Skywarp hissed, “deserve the continual malfunction. He—Barricade—does not.” He snapped open Starscream’s interface cover. Starscream sucked in a breath in anticipation. “Does he?” Skywarp rammed his spike into Starscream’s hastily-uncovered valve. “Does he deserve this?”
“You need not—“ Starscream gasped, breathless, at Skywarp’s thrusts. “You cannot live your whole life under Thundercracker’s shadow.”
“Shadow?!” He squeezed harder at Starscream’s wrists, shifting his grip to hold them both with one hand. His other raked down Starscream’s underarm, sparking down the armor, gouging the cables. Starscream moaned. “He’s ruined us for anything but this, hasn’t he?”
“He has…changed us,” Starscream admitted, clawing one foot at Skywarp, pushing his pelvis away, trying to unseat the spike. “But you need not,” he hissed in pain as Skywarp wrenched at his ankle. “You need not visit this on Barricade.”
“How can I not?” Skywarp’s voice was agony. “It’s just a matter of time.” He snarled, driving his spike fiercely into Starscream’s valve.
“You have…you have spiked him before. It did not happennnnnnaaaaaaugh!” Starscream twisted, his engines scraping the chair’s back, as he tried to dodge Skywarp’s hand, prying under his collar armor.
“I spiked him…ONCE. It was a constant struggle. Sooner or later he’ll catch on. Sooner or later it’ll matter. And then….” He squeezed at Starscream’s throat. The bronze jet bucked under him.
“You arranged Onslaught,” Starscream croaked, trying vainly to pull his neck away.
“That’s mypoint. I couldn’t even watch. I can’t do that—do THIS—to him.” Skywarp twisted his grip, grinding Starscream’s wrists together before releasing them. Starscream’s hands flew to his throat, trying to tear away Skywarp’s choking hand. Skywarp winced, then growled, as Starscream’s talons probed under the armor plating of his wrist. He squeezed harder, driving his long talons against the control cables, the energon line, in Starscream’s throat, his palm muffling the bronze jet’s vocalizer. “But you know I need to,” he whispered.
For a long moment there was no sound but the slick drive of his spike in Starscream’s valve, Starscream’s flickering eyeshutters, and Skywarp’s rhythmic growl. He howled, suddenly, jerking forward to sink his denta into an exposed core-fluid line in Starscream’s shoulder hard enough to rupture the mesh. Starscream’s entire frame spasmed, overloading against his Trine mate’s body, garbled sounds burbling from his covered vocalizer.
They lay together, hyperventing, overheated, limp.
Finally, Skywarp pulled back, wiping the core fluid from his mouth, turning away, embarrassed.
“And then,” Starscream whispered, stroking one long hand down Skywarp’s face, picking up the conversation as if the violence had not happened, “And then, you will come to me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You must. He will understand.”
“How can he when even we don’t understand?”
Starscream pulled his Trine mate closer, running his hands soothingly across Skywarp’s engine mounts. Skywarp took the opportunity to bury his face in Starscream’s shoulder. The same shoulder he had just bitten. He kissed the damaged line, apologetically, as if trying to wipe away the damage with his mouth. “He can understand because he wants to. And because he has his own darkness with which to contend.”
“It’ll ruin him.”
“He feels he is already ruined. As do you.” Starscream struggled upright in the chair, wincing as the black jet’s spike slipped from his valve. “I understand your hesitations, Skywarp. Truly, I do. More than you know. But if you do not ever start because you fear how it will end…?”
Next: Blindside
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