Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Sunny Disposition	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 5678 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Though I finding it sickeningly obvious, I find it necessary to admit that though this is a fanfiction site, I do not own Transformers nor make any money from it.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11: Messages
Sideswipe stalled, barely even noticing that Red Alert’s cameras were following him down the hall like a buzzard. Slowly, not even noting Jazz stalling next to him, he rubbed his chassis. It had been hurting like this all day… through the bond. It wasn’t painful or frightening, he just couldn’t identify it. It was as if Sunny needed something and his part of the bond was scolding him by aching as much as it could… and the more the day went on the more it hurt.
Yet, after giving Jazz the puppy-dog pout, the saboteur confirmed that Sunny was fine on patrol with Hound. He didn’t give an exact location, of course, but it was enough for him not to panic over the soft ache. Whatever it was, Sunny had boarded up the bond tighter than usual, faultering at strange moments only to slam the bond shut so tightly it hurt.
Was his brother trying to hide something?
A lover perhaps? Had Sunstreaker found a good mech stabilize his spark? He didn’t know if he wanted to weep or smile at the thought. Maybe… he had just been rough the first time.
Regardless, Sunstreaker was hiding something and Sideswipe wanted to know who or what it was… though how he was going to do it without talking to his twin was going to be somewhat challenging. Looking to his side, Sides had his answer almost immediately. Jazz was a gossip after all and conveniently right next to him. Who said he had to talk to his brother at all to figure out what was going on?
“Hey, Jazz,” stated Sideswipe. “Tell me… you notice anything strange about my brother? I can’t ask him myself after all… and a brother worries.”
…
It has been somewhat unsettling, to state it lightly, to have his spark suddenly speed up and seize. For a moment Sunstreaker thought he was about to offline and fall gray onto the ground. In actuality, he just swerved and veered into a nearby field where he remained shaking for a few moments.
Sitting in the tall grass, engine idling, the Autobot was sure that his spark was about to extinguish itself in a flurry as he rejected the sparklet once more.
It had been even more frightening when he heard a chuckle at his expense. Though it was probably over the crash more than his dire situation. It has been a poorly executed crash… the human corn in his grill wasn’t helping. Quickly transforming, Sunstreaker’s optics burned with the fury of the pit. He cared little that his body was still recovering from the shock of having his spark jerk so harshly… he was going to kill Hound.
The green mech he had been on patrol with had been highly bearably as of late, he didn’t even question why Sunstreaker was unaccustomedly slow. It wasn’t the first time they had rounds together and it was a well known fact that Sunstreaker always left mech’s in the dust with his high powered engine, but his spark with its sharp jabs made driving somewhat difficult… high speeding driving might be deadly.
Regardless, even knocked up as humans would state, he wasn’t a mech to just stand there and take mocking. No, he might have been technically Heavy, but he wasn’t going to be taking anyone’s mouth.
Turning in the direction of the mocker and stalled, engine whining. There was no one there, no Hound in sight. The mech was probably up the road, not even noticing he was in the ditch.
Raising a brown in confusion, the frontliner half wondered if he was going mad from all the stress, but that did not seem to be the case because there was another chuckle. Sunstreaker immediately turned his gaze to the corn field, images of horror movie night with Spike coming into mind. Was this going to turning into Children of the Corn or what?
“Whose there?” he finally whispered, trying to keep his voice even.
There was a ping and the mech jumped, drawing his gun from his subspace as he looked around wildly until he heard the ping again. He didn’t recognize it as Hound’s comm. but most likely, the green mech was still wondering where he had gotten off to. Idiot.
Answering the comm, Sunstreaker replied, “Hound… sorry, a deer jumped…”
“I saw no deer neither do I smell one nearby,” came a mental reply, no voice, only text accompanying over the comm.
Sunstreaker immediately went stiff, pressing the button on his hem almost harshly as he looked around angrily, “Who is this?”
“Just the messenger… now put away the gun or you’ll be getting nothing from me,” replied the other, purring almost.
Thinking it was strange that the person had purred instead of speaking, a thought hit him, his optics going wide as something occurred to him. Who would be sending him a message that could purr and smell that well? He immediacy looked up and stared in shock. Up in the tree, lazily perched was none other than Ravage. She was grinning rather wickedly like that strange like that cat in that Alice movie.
He was half tempted to shoot her but she quickly reminded him, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Slowly, taking heed, Sunstreaker lowered the gun, all of his instincts roaring at him, but them again Ravage had seen him being well … ravaged… on the battlefield the other day by Megatron so it was unlikely she would attack him or have any intention of doing such.
She didn’t want to break her Master’s toys, did she?
“What do you want?”
She chuckled, metal teeth glinting, “To erase the image of you fragging Megatron from my data memories… but that’s not going to happen. So, I’m here with a message.”
His spark skipped, for a moment hope and horror clashing together like an iceberg having met a lava flow. Half of him wondered if Megatron had found out about the sparklet and was going to offer to have it painlessly extinguished so no one would have to know or was about to demand he come to the base and act like a good little Carrier.
Yet, Ravage’s chuckling banished such thoughts as she pinged, “You seem torn between horror and bliss. I’ve heard of difficult relationships but you take the oil-cake…”
Sunny nodded, stepping into the shade of the tree and looking up at her, stating, “Like you said… its complicated.”
She twitched her stubby tail, adding, “Don’t I know it… regardless, my lord wishes to see you.”
“You mean frag me?” he asked, his valve clenching at the thought and his hand unknowingly rising to his chassis above his spark.
Ravage was silent for a moment as he observed the bot below her. He was strange. He didn’t seem displayed by the message and the Autobot even smelled strange. She knew this smell… she had smelled it only a few times. Soundwave had had that smell once or twice, but she could not recall…
“I take your silence as a ‘yes’,” stated the young mech, his hand moving away from his chassis as he added, “And I’d very much … like to see him again… but right now I have something to deal with. Give me a few solar days. Is there a comm. link or something for I can get in contact with and … not arise suspicion?”
The cat-former almost smiled, and then there was a ping. Was this a human frequency?
Smiling slightly, a small warmth now in his chest at the prospect of Megatron’s attention in more than a physical manner, Sunstreaker gave the cassette a coy grin as he murmured, “Tell your Master he will be getting a naughty call. I’ve heard of this thing the human do. It’s call phone sex… he is going to be my first text subject.”
Loving the horrified expression that came over the cat-formers face, the cassette nodded and then jumped off into the grass, leaving the sunny Autobot almost pleasantly happy until there was another jolt in his chest and a few moments later worried Hound by his side as Sunstreaker crawled out of the ditch.
“You okay, Sunstreaker? I noticed you weren’t behind me a few minutes ago. Sorry I didn’t notice sooner that you decided to go off roadin’,” said the worried mech as he offered a helping hand out of the ditch, surprise on his face when Sunny took it, rubbing his chassis. “Should I call Ratchet? Did you hurt your undercarriage in the brush?”
Sick at the prospect of Ratchet’s hands, the sunny colored character shook his head and added quickly, “No, no. Just a little … dented. A cat jumped out on the road and I went into the ditch.”
His spark jerked again and he almost doubled over, Hound quick to grab and steady him. Sunstreaker was quickier to pull away though, knowing that worried gaze in the jeep’s optics as Sunny shook his hand dismissively, thinking up a lie that would keep Ratchet away, “Mm-my tank… is still hurting something terrible. I’m tired of being mother hened by the old harpie though, Hound. Let’s just get this over with so I can go back into reacharge and get rid of this parasite.”
Hound nodded, “So it was a bug then. What kind of bug is it?”
“The kind my system is aware of,” the frontliner growled as he struggled onto the road, feeling like collapsing as a rather strong wave hit him.
Frag, it was getting faster.
“B-but it shouldn’t take my systems long to purge it. Let’s just get this over with,” he added, transforming, not knowing just how unbearably painful the rest of the route would be since it was a few hundred miles long and all.
Meanwhile, in the grasses of the crash site, a metal cat walked forward, smoothly, turning on her comm. link, “Soundwave, are you there?”
“Affirmative: mission successful?”
“Yeah… he got the number,” replied the small Con, still feeling something was wrong as she added, “And he seemed happy, too happy to have it, and then there was this smell.”
“Smell: more information required,” added the elder mech over the line.
The cat-former sighed, knowing she should have kept it to herself. She knew the smell, knew it so well, but for some reason she couldn’t recall what it was. She knew Soundwave would expect her to, but she didn’t recall as many insignificant details like Soundwave did… especially during the beginning of the war.
Yes, that was the last time she had smelled it.
So it wasn’t for earth.
Not a lot to go on.
Twitching the stub of her tail, she replied, “Sorry, I don’t know, but I know I should. It is familiar, but I haven’t smelled it in a long time, around the beginning of the war perhaps?”
There was silence on the other end until the monotone voice, though it was more the mask then his voice that was actually monotones though few knew that, replied, “Dwell on scent. Inquiry: emotion of happiness, false or true? Could the Autobot have been acting, creating a trap for Megatron?”
Ears going flat against the cassette’s head, she replied, “He seemed troubled but cheered up after hearing Megatron wanted him… something about phone sex, whatever that is. I am uncertain.”
“Mission: follow Autobot Sunstreaker. See if he is type of spy and … if you know that scent,” added the mech before the line went dead.
Groaning, knowing she would have to run to get there before the Autobot, the cassette started off, wondering how long it would take to find a way into the Autobot base this time. Last time, Blaster and his cassettes had become really paranoid and blocked off anything entrances they could, but that wouldn’t stop Ravage.
She hadn’t survived this long war because she was stupid.
A little forgetful of peaceful days, perhaps, but anything but stupid.
…
Sunstreaker tried not to scream as he transformed at the Ark’s entrance, their route over. He had thought it would never end… the mission nor the pain in his chest. True, the mission was over now, but the pain… it wasn’t over.
It was worse, his spark actually burned and once in a while it would seize painfully.
If he hadn’t turned off his vocals, his screams would have echoed all the way to the base.
Luckily, Hound had been ahead and hadn’t noticed Sunstreaker’s drifting during such episodes nor how he had pulled to the side once to empty the contents of his tank. It was taking all the self-control he owned to be walking straight instead of keening over in pain with and hand on his chassis.
His system had almost forced the acceptance twice already and he had to get to his room to have another painful battle before he passed out.
Nodding to Cliffjumper who was stuck with sentry duty, the yellow mech took one step forward into the base … and almost collapsed there at the entrance way on his knees. The pain had just growing tenfold, no longer coming like contractions, but now constant. If felt like his spark was starting to split and it was as wonder how he had been able to hide the pain from his brother’s side of the spark this long. Perhaps it was because his brother was now to busy thrusting his spark into that gray, slutty Dustan. A small growl escaped Sunstreaker at the thought in exchange of a whimper or scream. He was in pain, but his loathing was stronger. His hate of the gunner and his abandoning brother could probably drag him to his room before he collapsed into a heap of agony on the floor.
Pit, he wouldn’t even be in this mess if his brother hadn’t abandoned him… again.
“Sunstreaker. Wait up.”
Or he might collapse here.
A frown hung heavily on Hound’s face as he stepped into Sunstreaker’s path, after having given Cliffjumper their report. True, Hound knew it was unwise to step into the frontliner’s trail, but something was seriously wrong with the yellow twin and as the mech’s new roommate, the tracker felt responsible. Whatever was going on, it was not just a tank ache. Despite the crash, Sunstreaker also hadn’t been silent in his usual ‘ hate the world way’ but more like he was afraid to open his mouth. It was as if he had been holding back screams towards the end of their route. Painful screams by the way his fingers were now twitching and the way his lips tugged painfully at his face.
Hound was also not blind to the fact that Sunstreaker had pulled over and transformed once to empty his tank as well. True, the green mech understood a sick mech had no want for speed, so he didn’t question Sunstreaker’s pace but now his sensors, his gut as Spike referred to it once, was telling him something wrong. And even if this was a tank ache, it was something really nasty and Hound didn’t want to come back from his game time with Mirage and Trailbreaker to find Sunstreaker offline in their room.
Not that the twin seemed thankful for his concern.
“What?” said Sunstreaker more in a croak than in a real threat.
“I-I, well, yah didn’t seem well today, even before the crash. Are you sure feeling alrigh’? Yah need someone to talk to, i-if that’s what’s wrong, or help to the medical bay? You’rh not looking much better from last night and I don’t think recharging with fix it,” continued Hound, his worry only growing as he watched the mech’s optics twitch in setting; never a good sign.
Sunstreaker tried to keep his surprise buried. He had thought he had hidden the pain well enough … but it wasn’t the first time he was wrong. He had been wrong about his brother after all. A sadness of an abandoned bond now welling up with the sparkling pain already radiating thought his spark like a rapidly spreading fungus.
Knowing he didn’t trust his vocals or his legs right now, Sunstreaker decided to do the next best thing, retreat. Pushing passed Hound, only one destination in mind, he waved a hand at Hound as if saying, ‘Don’t worry’ as he kept his legs straight. He only wanted one thing right now, a cold dark corner in his room so he could suffer through this until it would pass, until he would become numb. That’s what spark pain did. It would sting so badly one would wish they could die and then it would slowly turn into a dull ache, like Sideswipe. This would pass and be nothing more than a dull pain to haunt him.
At least he hoped it would pass. The warnings had been growing ever more frequent on his HUD. So much so that they were starting to litter his system, demanding acceptance, trying to force it. He wouldn’t allow it though. The sparkling w-was wrong. There was no way he could keep it.
Shutting the door to his room and locking it, he allowed himself to fall to his knees as he squeezed his middle, whispering, “Please die little one. Please just die.”
…
Ravage was nearly soundless as she made her way through the venting systems. It sometimes amazed her how it was so easy to get into them. Yes, the Autobot cassettes had block off the ones they could find… but this was a side of a mountain. There were so many ways in.
She didn’t know if this Autobot sex toy was a good or bad thing. True, Megatron, though highly sexually tense lately, was less volatile to his own soldiers and far more level headed when it came to planning and preparing for the future. He had actually started to think of an end to this war. She heard that Megatron had been contacting Shockwave asking for planets with materials needed to revive their home. It was still young in it’s thought processes, but she was sure it had to do with the little sun colored bot. Then again, if this relationship was a rouse and the Autobot was playing him merely to entrap the warlord… well, the few weeks that would follow would be pit on earth.
But, whatever the consequence, all Soundwave knew was what had happened in the battlefield days ago with the yellow Autobot was not meant to be a onetime thing.
Not that their lord didn’t deserve a tight little valve, but if Sunstreaker was folly in any of his expressions of love… though she doubt it real love… she would end the Autobot in his recharge tonight. Megatron would never know how he died.
Slowly, she stalked through the vents until finally she found herself looking down the shaft. It had smelled like the yellow mech, without the pungent musk that she had smelled earlier today, but it was not Sunstreaker. It was a red mech. The twin if she recalled correctly, and he was currently riding a pretty little thing.
“S-sideswipe! Make my valve come. Make me come!” cried a little grey Dutsen and it clung to his lover, riding that aft into the berth side.
The cat just shook her head. This is what the down time on earth had reduced every mech to… deprived sex fiends. She had noticed it in the Nemesis as well, pairs were popping up. Not that she blamed anyone. The death toll on earth had been severely limited compared to that of Cybertron. It gave mech’s time to be bored and bored led to hobbies… of all kinds.
Stalling, the cassette grinned to herself. There was that smell, that heavy musk that smelled like electricity and nanites, but not in the way interfacing did. It was old and stale wasn’t the word, it was old and new at the same time.
It would irritate her to no end if she couldn’t figure out what that smell reminded her of.
Following her nose, she soon found herself looking downward into a large room, a berth on each side, a single lamp lit and a … shaking mech in the corner. She sat down on her hunches and watched in confusion. Well, at least he wasn’t reporting his false relationship to Optimus Prime or that sour mech, Prowl, but why was he just huddled in a corner… shaking. No, he was thrashing, shivering, arching. This mech was in pain, serious internal pain.
He didn’t smell exactly like death though.
Why hadn’t he gone to a medic yet?
The mech arch painfully, his mouth opened in what would have probably been a scream, but since whimpers weren’t even escaping the yellow mech, his vocals were probably off.
Slowly sinking down against the wall, vents panting, the yellow mech dimmed his optics and panted, vocals coming on strained as if he had been screaming, “Please primus… just die little one. I don’t want you. I … cant … uhhh!”
The mech arched again, this time a gurgled scream escaping him, fluids spurting from his mouth before he collapsed again, whining in his throat as he placed a hand against his chassis almost denting it as he pressed firmly.
The cat-former blinked in surprise, realization hitting her like a freight train as to what the smell was.
Little one … holding his chassis… smell of old nanites.
The slagger was heavy and recently from the looks of it, the sparkling trying to drop down into the carrying chamber to start the building of its spark casing and body. And from the looks of it, Sunstreaker had no plans of being a parent.
Not that she blamed him… this was a war they were in despite the lax battles of late.
Deciding that she didn’t want her Master’s pet to offline so pathetically, she brought out a claw and started opening the vent.
Sunny nearly bulked a moment later when something thumped on his berth. For a sickening moment, he even thought it was his brother now sitting down on his berth, about to ask him if he needed to be carried to the med bay like a sick little bot. Yet, as Sunny sat up to protest he was fine, vertigo took over his systems, his optics going white as his battle systems tried to turn on to give him extra strength.
Unfortunately, the pain and vertigo was too much and the frontliner fell back against the corner he was in, optics going offline for a frightening minute or so until he was able to online his optics by force of will alone. He immediately shivered, more from the surprise of seeing two red optics glaring at him from a perch on his berth than from the pain.
“What are you doing here, Decpeti-brat. Don’t you have to go and report back to Soundwave I got Megatron’s message,” he choked, noticing for the first time… his limbs were going numb and he was losing system relays to certain parts of his limbs.
The cat-former sat there a moment and then cocked her head as she replied over the comms, “Oh, not much… just watching you offline.”
Sunstreaker shivered, “I’m not dying… its just a bug, a parasite my system is trying to rid.”
The cat former chuckled with her vocals before replying, over the comm, “Yes, parasite. Not a very Autobot way to refer to a sparkling though a Con would. Are you sure you are not a Decepticon.”
“Frag off,” barked Sunny, shivering. “I’m dealing with it.”
“How? By offlining? You de realize the dropping of a sparkling is not voluntary. It’s just informing you so that you know you are sparked. Denying it will only cause your spark to overheat and offline,” said the cat-former as she lay down on the berth lazily as if this wasn’t a worry of hers. “Quite a nasty way to offline… if you don’t cry out for help first. And, you being on the Primes side whom is more than aware of our species fading population… you’d have to keep it.”
Sunstreaker spasmed and shook his head, “No. No! I don’t want it to marked me as a traitor! They’ll know I slept with Megatron and then I’ll be marked as a slut-traitor and … and I hate my brother, but I …”
Ravage pretended Sunstreaker hadn’t just hinted it was Megatron’s sparkling, and murmured, “It was probably your brother’s because if it was Megatron… he’ll kill you himself to keep it quiet.”
Shaking, Sunny took the hint and nodded his head. He didn’t want Megatron knowing anyway… it was something that needed to go!
“Good, now just accept it. No one will notice at first and Soundwave, given his experience, will know how to get rid of it. Megatron doesn’t want baggage,” rumbled the cat-former as she rose to her feet and squatted for the jump up to the vent. “Be seeing you sex toy.”
She was the gone… leaving Sunny with a decision or lack of one actually.
It was then, bawling like a little baby with his legs pulled into his chest, that Sunstreaker hit the accept option and the seizing stopped immediately, his whole body feeling warm as a little ball of heat traveled down and finally into his carrying camber. His whole body then felt warm, as if thanking him for allowing it acceptance.
That night, Sunstreaker stayed in the shower, weeping as the freezing water fell down on him. He knew Hound had heard him when he finally came back, but yet again he said nothing. Though, when Sunny woke in the morning he found the shower had been turned off and a cube of light grade had been left at his side. He might have been thankful if a part of him didn’t know that a percentage of that energon was going to sparkling that was now firmly nestled in his abdomen, making itself a body.
…
Blaster sat in the control room, staring at a screen aimlessly until he was touched on the shoulder. He quickly put on a smile and turned to face Jazz.
“Yo, bro, what’s up?”
Jazz lazed in the chair for a moment before he turned to the other, “Well, I wanted to ask about some rumors… after business of course. OP is mighty worried. Its been too long since we’ve heard a peep out of old Meg’s. Yeah, he’s been a silent snake before, get me, but something just seems off. So, we need to send in a spy… haven’t decided who… Mirage is the best bet with his invisible man get up, but one of your little guys might be in the lime light this time. Either way, we are having meeting later today.”
Nodding, the boom box stated, “Yeah, I get yah. Old Meg’s was real pissed last time on the field… almost ripped off Prime’s arm. He was might angry, stating he was interruptin’ or something.”
“He was just mad he never got to do in old Sunny; idiot kid. I’d have had ‘im in the brig for that, but Ratchet’s dealing with it,” he stated. It was not a well kept secret but Prime was still absolutely fuming about the last battle in the silent reclusive way that he did… and it wasn’t about the arm. Sunstreaker was slowly becoming a liability.
Blaster nodded, taking on a sad expression, “You think he might be sent to Ultra Magnus’s team? Its just that lately… maybe’h there’s something about the second born curse.”
Frowning, Jazz stated, “I don’ believe in curses, that’s a human thing Blaster, but in the end its old Hatchet’s decision… just like Prime promised him, but you are right… if ratchet can’t do anything… Sideswipe might end up being the lonely brother.”
“Yeah… separating twins can’t be such … tragedy.”
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Sunny Disposition