Hostile Accommodations

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

NC-17
G1
Onslaught, Skywarp, and...uhhh, Warpath for a bit. O_O
sticky

 

 

Onslaught slumped in his cell.  His vents fogged in the air, the walls mazed with frost.  It was, of course, humiliating enough that he’d been caught by these slaggin’ Autobots.  Got too far ahead of the assault, because his team had once again apparently decided that combat was best performed at strolling speeds.  Except for, probably, Vortex, who typically raced wildly across the battle lines and most likely entirely forgot the direction of advance.  So. That was mortifying enough. But then.  He had to get captured with Skywarp. Because everything sucked more when you were across the corridor from a whiny Seeker. 

He’d give anything to have Vortex in the opposite cell. At least the snark would have kept him going.  Frag. He’d even take Swindle.  The sneaky little mech always had a few good stories.  But no. He had Skywarp, who had gone from arrogant, to glum, to whiny.  Like a radio that got only three different channels, all of them bad. 

The black Seeker whined about everything. The food, the lighting, the color of the energy forcefield, the stale smell of the air, the cold (like Onslaught totally wouldn’t have noticed that on his own, the way ice was building on his air vents), the unattractiveness of the guards, that his pede itched…it went on and on.  Until, just a few cycles ago, he’d fallen silent, wriggling weirdly on his bunk.  At first Onslaught had been happy for the blasted silence, but now he was beginning to think something was wrong with the jet. Well.  Something more than usual. 

He called for a guard, tapping his foot urgently for the delay. No military bearing, these Autobots. Disgraceful.  Almost as disgraceful as these cells—icicles as long as his arm dangled from one corner of his ceiling.  Sloppy.

One guard, the red one, with the, uhhh, really unfortunate design, ambled into view.  “Wow! What’s your slaggin’ problem!?”

“It’s what his problem is,” Onslaught said, coldly, pointing at Skywarp’s cell. “It’s only your problem if you don’t do something about it.”

“Kazow! My problem? I don’t got any Blammo! Problems.”

Uhh, right.  Well, Onslaught had dealt with more than a few…interestingly challenged glitches before. “If you’d like to maintain your no, uh, blammo problemless state, you might consider checking on the Seeker.”  There. That was about as far as the Combaticon was willing to stick his neck out for the whining one. 

He settled back to watch as the red Autobot first tried to peer through the energy field. Yeah, problem with keeping these cells so dim is that dark-armored mechs kind of disappear into the so-abundant-shadows.  He rolled his optics behind his visor as the Autobot shouted. “ZING! Hey, you!  Wake kablammo up!”

Unsurprisingly, even this polite remonstration failed to stir Skywarp, and the red Autobot finally gave up and lowered the force barrier.  If Skywarp were smart, Onslaught thought, he would strike…NOW.

Skywarp wasn’t that smart, apparently. Not by miles.  Even confronting an enemy with such a design liability as a giant cannon mounted on his chassis, who had to lower the forcefield for longer than usual so he could get himself and his ridiculous gun inside, Skywarp just lay on his berth, apparently twitching.

“Hey!” the Autobot said.  “Frizzow!  You having some kind of schwoop seizure or something?”

Yes, you are indeed one to recognize odd seizures, Onslaught thought, to distract himself from being furious at Skywarp for not taking advantage of this opportunity.  He was about to yell something, just to distract the Autobot, to  give even the most cowardly mech a clear, if cheap, shot at the Autobot’s back, when Skywarp suddenly rolled over, optics blazing a malevolent red, his entire upper torso streaked with silver. His lips curled in a delighted kind of snarl as the optics lit upon the Autobot. 

Onslaught winced as Skywarp pounced.  And then.

Oh. Dear.  The Autobot howled, curses mixing in with his random ‘blammos’ and ‘shazams’ as Skywarp…. Well…that explained things.

****

“All yours,” the guard said, throwing Skywarp bodily into the cell with Onslaught.  Behind him, a rather shaken Warpath was still swabbing anxiously at his chest gun.  Skywarp snarled where they’d thrown him on the floor, radiating heat into the coldness of the room.

“Isn’t this prisoner abuse?” one of the guards asked. Onslaught was debating the same question.

The other shrugged. “If we were making them fight each other, maybe. But Prowl said that it wasn’t against prisoner treatment protocols to house two ‘cons in the same cell. As long as there’s a reason they can’t be kept separate. And, well,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Skywarp’s former cell, where the lights had been turned up, fluorescing over streaks and smears and sprays of silver that could only be transfluid on the walls.  “That needs a good cleaning.”

“Frag,” said the other mech.  “Hope that’s not my job!”

“Keep asking stupid zowie! questions and it will be,” Warpath muttered.

They lowered the force barrier with snickers of satisfaction.  Onslaught frowned as Skywarp stirred.  Just because he knew what the problem was did not mean Onslaught wanted to deal with it.  He had to deal with enough idiocy from his own gestalt.  He did Not. Need. This. 

“Oooooooooooooh,” Skywarp moaned, rolling over onto his back, his wings slapping against the cold floor.  “Oh Primus I need it!”

“You need some slagging discipline,” Onslaught said, coldly.

“Maybe later,” Skywarp groaned, one purple hand reaching up for Onslaught’s leg as the mech stood over him.  “Come on!” He wriggled his hips in what was probably supposed to be a seductive way.  It looked grotesque.  The purple hand closed over his knee joint, trying to pull Onslaught down on top of him.  “Come on, baby.  Ever have Seeker valve?” 

That sounds like a disease, Onslaught thought, sourly, trying to pull himself out of the black jet’s grasp.  
“No,” he said, bluntly. “Nor do I want to.”

“Sure you do!” Skywarp said, his fingers trying to tease under the armor to the exposed systems in the back of Onslaught’s knee.  “Everyone wants some.”

“Good,” Onslaught said, kicking his foot, trying to shake the probing grip of the purple fingers, sending strange ripples of sensation over his net. “Find one of them.”

Skywarp whined, frustrated. “But you’re right heeeeeere.”  The optics grew sly. Feverish, but sly. “Have I ever told you how hot you are?” The fingers trailed down Onslaught’s lower leg.  “Always wanted you.”

“You have not.”

“Well…okay. I want you now, though.” One optic dared to wink at Onslaught. Ridiculous. When he saw his…uhh…charm wasn’t working, he began whining again. “Come on! I need it!” 

“Heat, right?” He couldn’t imagine what else it would be.  Skywarp, especially, had always been a bit glitchy but this was beyond even that. 

The optics lit up. “You understand! I knew you would.”  He snapped open his interface hatch, revealing an already pressurized spike, leaking silver-streaked lubricant and his unsealed valve.  “Come on!  You don’t want me to have to resort to…Autobots.”

“You already did.” 

“Oh yeah.” Skywarp shrugged, pushing himself up. “Seriously though, look at that thing. I mean…I can’t have been the only mech who ever thought about it.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only mech who’s ever actually done it.”  That was…a sight that was unfortunately etched into Onslaught’s memory: Skywarp straddling Warpath, nearly standing, bobbing up and down furiously on the muzzle of the mech’s chest cannon, while Warpath screamed and howled things like “Frag!” and “Shazaaaamo!” while punching uselessly at Skywarp’s shins.   War was hell, but captivity…possibly worse.  

“Yeah, well, Skywarp’s got needs. Speaking of which….” He ran a hand up Onslaught’s thigh.  Onslaught jerked back.

“I’m not that easy, Seeker.” Surely the Autobots had some sort of captivity convention they should be honoring?  This seemed unpleasant. 

“What do I have to do? I’ll do anything. Just…frag me!”  Skywarp’s optics were desperate.  “Primus I need it in the valve so baaaaad!” 

Onslaught considered. “Let’s see you do it first.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “You said anything. I want to watch you.”

“But….”

“Needless delay,” Onslaught snapped. “I can’t imagine why you’re suddenly shy.”  

“It’s just that—“

Onslaught gave him the special look normally reserved for Swindle. The ‘shut up and do it’.  Who knew? It worked.  Skywarp’s purple hands drifted down his body to his already loose-hinged interface hatch.  Skywarp whimpered as his thumb grazed the length of his spike, still gamely pressurized, his fingers spreading with lubricant before curling around the rim of the valve.  Onslaught was marginally glad the mask and visor hid his responses, presenting a bland, neutral face to the black jet.  Oh, he was going to enjoy this.  Those Seekers thought so very very much of themselves.  This was a pleasant change. Onslaught enjoyed everything about this—including Skywarp’s position, sprawled on the floor.  The Seeker’s optics fixed his, or tried to, with a kind of desperate hunger as the purple digits began pumping into the valve.

The black and silver frame tightened, the heat sinks buzzing on.  Onslaught could feel pushes of heated air against him, little washes of lust.  “It won’t work!” Skywarp whined.  “I’ve tried it.”

“Try…harder.” 

Skywarp moaned, trying to roll his hips high enough up that his fingers could penetrate deeper into the valve. His fingers made slick sounds sliding in and out of the valve, his wings rubbed against the floor, his optics glowed wild, wide.  Onslaught felt his interface systems stir.  This had gone from amusing to…arousing.  He watched in silence, as the black jet struggled to push his systems into overload.  The other hand snaked around the spike.

Onslaught tsked.  “You know that won’t help.”  He didn’t know, but by the jet’s wail, he was right. 

“Pleeeeease!”  Skywarp’s silver hips thrust in counterpoint to his purple wrist.  Poor little fragger looked in agony.  Onslaught smirked behind his mask.  Probably time to take control.

He dropped to one knee, abruptly, yanking the slick sticky purple hand from the valve, before thrusting in his own fingers.  He had a better angle, and the tips of his fingers could easily feel the valve’s ceiling node. 

“GAH!” Skywarp cried out, arching up, and then still, immobile, as if afraid to move.  In a small voice he whimpered, “pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?”

Seekers and their dignity, Onslaught scoffed. He braced his other hand, boldly, on a black expanse of wing.  Have to explore that, later.  He felt the valve spiral down around his fingers and then shift more delicately than Onslaught thought a valve could, adjusting to the irregular shape of his intruding fingers. Oh.  Maybe there was something to this Seeker valve thing. 

But time enough for that.  Right now, he wanted to watch.

He didn’t thrust in and out of the valve, merely rolled his wrist back and forth, the tips of his fingers bumping and grazing over the ceiling node, pulling charge from the wall nodes. 

Skywarp shrieked, the valve clutching around Onslaught’s fingers, arresting them in their motion. He felt the crackle of electricity spark through his hand, his audio filled with the sound from Skywarp’s vocalizer, punctuated by flat slaps of the hands against the ground. 

He jerked his fingers out of the valve. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Guh-yes! But! More!”  The sticky fingers grabbed for Onslaught, desperate to pull him down on top. “Please. Oh Primus, frag me.”

Onslaught pulled back, amused.  This was…a bit different from Vortex’s approach.  He kind of liked it. “I think you need a break.”

“No!”  Skywarp’s optics were desperate.  Onslaught’s sensornet thrilled, darkly. 

“It’s only fair,” Onslaught said, “I got you off. You get me off.” He snapped open his interface hatch.  His spike released itself, stabbing the air. 

Skywarp was set to protest, but the heat caused a glaze to settle over his optics.  He stared with raw lust at Onslaught’s glistening spike.  “How,” he asked, licking his lips.

Onslaught smirked. “However you want.”  He’d figured this out already.

Skywarp launched himself, his mouth closing eagerly around the spike, optics glinting wickedly.  Onslaught’s optics glinted back.  Right.  Try to break me down that way, Seeker? Good luck.  Still, he sighed as the warm intake sheathed his spike, Skywarp’s glossa sliding expertly over its contours.  This, he thought, was how Seekers were best appreciated.  He gritted his dentae behind his battlemask against the rush of desire.  Skywarp sucked at the spike, his mouth riding up and down along its length, glossa tracing zigzag lines across the nodes.  Frag that felt good.

Not that he would admit it. 

But he did allow his hands to drift to the wide span of Skywarp’s wings, his fingers curling over the leading edges, thumbs grazing where they joined the black chassis.  He felt Skywarp’s moan, the vibrations against his spike causing his hands to clench more tightly over the wings. 

Skywarp whimpered softly, at the rough grabs to his wings, his optics fluttering closed.  Thinking of Thundercracker.  That one time, the two of them sprawled together, spikes in mouths, moaning, thrusting slowly into each other.  He could almost feel Thundercracker’s mouth on his spike, which valiantly tried to pressurize.  Oh he had been working that too hard.  All those memories he’d replayed, though, those never got old. His systems purred, his mouth closing more eagerly on Onslaught’s spike…imagining, pretending. 

He almost choked in frustration as Onslaught grunted, sharply, flooding his mouth with his overload.  Skywarp had barely gotten to the good part of the fantasy, slaggit!  The part where Thundercracker had broken down, arching his back, groaning as he lost their little contest.  He pulled away, dissatisfied. 

“There,” he said.  “My turn, now.”

“Is it.”  Not a question. Almost questioning if it were a question.

“Frag yes! You promised!” Skywarp pushed to his feet,  his red optics glowing with fury and frustration.  Onslaught was radiating heat from his overload into the frigid cell. 

“I suppose I did,” Onslaught said, slowly.  The Seeker’s almost panicked desire was…kind of a turn on. “Fine. But lay on the berth this time, like a civilized creature?”

“Who says you get to top?” Skywarp muttered, scrambling to his feet.  Onslaught had a swift flashback to Warpath and…uh…no.  That was not going to happen.  He slipped in a puddle that had melted from their combined heat, his thrusterheel skidding out.  He snatched for balance…onto Onslaught’s spike.

Onslaught howled, hauling the jet up by one wingstrut, throwing him facedown across the berth. “I say so,” he snarled.  His spike throbbed with pain at being wrenched like that, losing pressure. Fragging Seekers have no respect for sensitive equipment. 

Well, he’d show him. Fragging jet. 

He reached up and snapped off one of the dangling icicles. “I think you’re a little overheated, Seeker,” he snarled, but behind his battlemask, his mouth wore a curved grin.  He jammed the icicle into the silver-rimmed valve. 

Skywarp howled, arching up to meet the icicle. “Oh frag oh PRIMUS!” Onslaught twisted the icicle, his other hand bracing on the pelvic frame, hauling the hips back, to prevent Skywarp from struggling.  The black jet didn’t struggle. He was writhing, yes, but his reactions were…arousal, his pelvic frame squirming back against the intrusion, his cries fading to an eager mewling sound. 

Onslaught had waited, he figured, long enough to prove his point.  He flung the icicle aside, part of it snapping off against the valve’s rim. He squared his hips behind Skywarp’s and shaking his head, as if perplexed by his own desires, drove his spike into the valve. 

They both  shuddered.  Part of the icicle, still frozen, jammed into the top of the valve, sending frigid stabs along their interface equipment. The valve gripped down upon his spike, the calibration off due to the sensor numbing, rippling against his spike, unable to find the right settings.  Oh.  Dear Primus. 

Skywarp gave a half-growl, half-moan, wriggling back against Onslaught’s spike, quivering at the shock of the cold being driven against his ceiling node. 

Onslaught growled, his hands rough on the black wingspan, fingers wrapped around the leading edge, jerking them back, forcing the frame back against his pelvic arch.  Skywarp moaned, wingflaps fluttering with arousal in a fast counterpoint to the solid, driving rhythm of Onslaught’s spike in his valve. 

How long had it been, Onslaught tried to recall. How long since he’d taken someone without the foreplay of violence? Without the need for it to be a dominance game? He’d been forcing Skywarp—who...didn’t need to be forced.  Then…why? Did he need it?  Or did he think it was somehow necessary—that no one would want him without the compulsion, however playful?

Onslaught shuddered at the thought, and the valve around his spike rippled down against him in some sort of response.  His interface systems crackled with a  sudden surge, the slick prickling slide of his spike in the tight, responsive valve overwhelming his senses, cutting him down until there was nothing but the pure sensation, spinning with desire.  The coldness of the melting ice, which diluted the lubricant, caused the charge to build up faster, in sudden, erratic rushes, the cold numbing the sensors, scraping them raw over the valve nodes.  Skywarp squeaked in time, his elbow servos failing, dropping his shoulders down, pressing his cheek against the berth. 

He cried out, the sound echoing, pinging through the hanging stalactites of ice.  Every circuit in his body seemed to crackle with energy, transfluid scalded out of his spike into the valve. His hands dug into the metal panels of Skywarp’s wings, hard enough to dent metal, one or two bolts giving with soft pops. Skywarp howled, hands clawing at the berth as the hot transfluid scorched his ice-numbed ceiling node. 

They collapsed, Onslaught dropping forward over Skywarp, spike still embedded.  Onslaught’s cooling fans buzzed on, chuffing warm air over Skywarp’s backframe. 

“Oh frag,” Skywarp muttered into the metal of the berth, sated. Temporarily.

“Yeah,” Onslaught croaked.

“Gonna…just lie here for a bit,” Skywarp said, woozily. 

“You do that.”  Onslaught pushed himself up on one elbow.  How the frag had he gotten into this?  More than that, what now? 

He hadn’t realized he’d said that last part aloud until Skywarp rolled his head, lazily, to look at him over his wing edge.  “What now?  First, a little break.  Then,” and the optics glinted, the valve squeezing playfully against his spike, “We do it again. Unless you think you can’t keep up.”

Onslaught’s mouth, behind the mask, curled into a lopsided grin. “Try me.”

 

 

 

 

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/__wilderness__/]

Poor poor Warpath...

[caiusmajor.livejournal.com]

That's *awesome*. Warpath! Warpath getting his cannon ridden! And Onslaught, not quite knowing what to do with non-violent sex, awww. :)

One thing, though: this paragraph:

Skywarp whimpered softly, at the rough grabs to his wings, his optics fluttering closed. Thinking of Thundercracker. That one time, the two of them sprawled together, spikes in mouths, moaning, thrusting slowly into each other. He could almost feel Thundercracker’s mouth on his spike, which valiantly tried to pressurize. Oh he had been working that too hard. All those memories he’d replayed, though, those never got old. He thought of one now: he and Thundercracker laid together, gently thrusting their spikes into each other’s mouths. His systems purred, his mouth closing more eagerly on Onslaught’s spike…imagining, pretending.

Reads as though something got inadvertently repeated? Either that or there were supposed to be two distinct fantasies, there, but they didn't seem quite distinct enough...

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

poor editing on my part. I'll fix it.

[yukiko-angel.livejournal.com]

Woh, had to read it twice just because it was too hot. The icicle bit is just to great in there :D

Skywarp, will do anything in heat. Anything twice if possible

[mpinsky.livejournal.com]

Wow, I haven't commented on your fics in a long time, even though I promised. Wow, I fail at life. :C

Anyways, there was a typo in there that I caught, but I can't quite remember where it was as I was far too absorbed in the story, especially when the icicle came into play. Just...*shiver*.

"Yes, you are indeed one to recognize odd seizures..."

And that? That is just epic win.

Though this does make me wonder, is Skywarp getting captured repeatedly by the Autobots during his heat cycle to have more heat-fragging partners because nobody can resist his charm? ;P

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Oh great. Well, if you actually find it, let me know. Because I've run like 3 spell checks and done a slow read backwards and I still can't find this typo.

[mpinsky.livejournal.com]

I may have just stumbled over something in my poor, addled brain while reading because now I can't seem to find it either. .~.

Obviously, it's not something to worry about because apparently I imagined it. God, I suck today.

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

No it's probably there! Probably one of those 'from' instead of 'form' things. It's like a scavenger hunt! I should award a prize for whoever finds it! LOL

ANYWAY, to what really matters: yessssss, the icicle.)

[malusamatorius.livejournal.com]

Well if it's American spelling I couldn't find anything other than a spare space in the phrase "crackled with a sudden surge,". If it's Australian/English spelling then pressurize/d, and color.
Regards,
Amatorius.

[sasuke-emosauce.livejournal.com]

More seeker heat and Onslaught...this is insanely hot. Warpath's cannon made me spew tea on my keyboard. XD

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

YOU KNOW YOU"VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT with Warpath. XD

Glad you liked!

[ultharkitty.livejournal.com]

Pure and simple epic win. This made me giggle so hard, as well as pushing my 'squee about Combaticons' buttons ;)

Also, I will never, and I mean never look at Warpath without laughing the same way again.

:D

[kaanibaru.livejournal.com]

thank you for making my brain melt into a very happy puddle.

♥

[crimsonseastorm.livejournal.com]

Guh I love your seeker heat fics <33333 They are made of win xD

[akisawana.livejournal.com]

Okay, I love Seeker!heat
Also, I am loving my Skywarp fix. :)
Is there anything Skywarp won't consent to? I mean, at first it was funny, but now I'm starting to think he's going to get in trouble one of these days...but that's just me going ZERO to ANGST in 60 seconds or less.
Also, seriously, why don't they tie him up during heat? That would solve so many problems.
And the icicle was sheer genius! Though I don't think anything will ever top the time Skywarp discovered Skyfire is...proportional.

[spacehussy.livejournal.com]

I - I only noticed Warpath very recently while watching G1. And ummmm that was totally the first thing I thought of. (Go Skywarp~~ :3) I love that you wrote it though, ahah. *dying a little*

I LOVE IT WHEN YOU WRITE SKYWARP. Just putting that out there. He is so unrepentantly slutty. It is a wonderful thing.