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Title: Alphabet Soup	By : Chaosdreamer Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 2419 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Transformers and all recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I am making no profit writing these stories.

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Title: TwinsxPerceptor Drabbles
Author: dreamerchaos
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.
Rating: G all the way to Mature.
Summary: Short, short drabbles, ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs. Takes place in a various array G1, IDW, and Shattered universe. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

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A is for Assessment
(G1 Universe)

“He’s cute.” Sideswipe haggles.

“Shy like a retro-rabbit.” His sunny twin muttered.

“…Have you seen that aft? And those big, gorgeous blue optics?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sunstreaker crossed his arms across his chassis, “Given that every time I stand remotely close to him, he vanishes to dash into his labs, and I suffer through Ratchet’s glares and Grimlock’s snarls to leave the scientist alone.”

“And that kiss! Not to mention how he practically melted in my arms with embarrassment...Makes me want to eat him up,” Sideswipe grinned, relishing the memory of the microscope swooning in his arms, facial plating hot and flushed in undeniable mortification at the kiss and proximity with the warrior caste soldier.

“Can’t really remember, with all the wild babbling and stumbling apologies he managed to bluster on and on before he imitated Blurr and high-tailed it from the Rec Room.”

“….I have the code to his labs. I’m sure he’s down there puttering on some project…All alone and probably aching for some company…”

“…” Sunstreaker casually hopped up from his seat, sweeping his arm eloquently towards his brother, bowing and grinning lecherously at his red twin, “Lead the way,” The brightly painted twin hot on Sideswipe’s heels as they make a beeline down to the lowest levels of the ship, seeking out their unwary prey.

B is for Bravery
(G1 Universe)

There is a sharp, furious shout, “MOVE YOUR AFT!!” Perceptor cries out, brutally rammed from behind, the world tilting then spilling forward as he is tumbled head over heels. A large mech nearly crushes the microscope underneath him, covering the terrified mech with his bulk, grimacing at the scorching flash of null ray firepower, paint popping and hissing as the blasts fall far too close for comfort.

Perceptor, curled in a fetal position beneath his savior, shakes and rattles, dermal plating clacking, hands over his audios as Seekers roar overhead. The scientist whimpered in unadulterated terror, optics pitch black, face ravaged in utter dread. “S-Sideswipe…” The mech whimpers.

Sideswipe curses the squad of Seekers, no doubt the ‘Cons cackling over the near-miss. Quickly, the front-line soldier scoops Perceptor up, the scientist too weak at the knees to stand.

The microscope yips as he is slung over the warrior’s shoulder, “I-I-I can make it!”, but then winces in pain, the earlier injury to his knee sparking, popping yellow sparks and spilling energon down Sideswipe’s hip and thigh. No doubt the injury the culprit for Perceptor freezing during the firefight, clutching the damaged limb, struggling to remain on his pedes while simultaneously fumbling to properly hold his blaster.

“Hold on tight!” Sideswipe shouts, taking off at a hard run, Sunstreaker popping up from behind a small battlement, loping beside his brother and his slung cargo as they make a harried retreat towards the drop site, desperately racing to reach the emergency shuttle before the Seekers decide to make another pass.

C is for Craving
(G1 Universe)

Sunstreaker’s hands held Perceptor’s thighs open, spread wide. Hunkered between the microscope’s trembling limbs, the warrior laves and suckles and the mech’s port, savoring the cries, mewls, and long whimpers.

Against Perceptor’s back, stretched out along the berth, Sideswipe shackles the microscope’s hands to the berth with his larger black fists, nuzzling and biting at their prisoner’s shoulders, collar struts, and arched neck.

“Sunny!” Sideswipe gasps. Beseeching his brother.

Sunstreaker grunts, only deigning to pull away at his own leisure. He slides up Perceptor’s chassis, grinning toothily at the microscope as his interface spike slowly pierces the mech. Perceptor cries out, rocking against the golden twin, legs enwrapping around Sunstreaker’s waist. Helm rolling back along Sideswipe’s shoulder.

“Taste, brother,” Sunstreaker purrs, welding his mouth with Sideswipe’s, glossas tangling, Sideswipe chasing the flavor of lubricant and oil within Sunstreaker’s hot mouth, mingling Perceptor’s flavor between them.

Sideswipe purrs, groaning as Sunstreaker dances his glossa across his bottom lip just so. He then cries out as Sunstreaker suddenly thrusts, sharply rocking into Perceptor, forcing the microscope to sway enticingly between Sideswipe’s spread legs, Perceptor’s posterior pushing and rubbing against the red twin’s codpiece. “You said you’d share!” Sideswipe growls, frame aching, pulsing with the want to combine with Perceptor and Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker chuckles at his brother’s raging, cooing soft seductive words into Perceptor’s audios, continuing to tease his twin by drawing further whimpers and mewls from their berth mate as the gold warrior’s words grow more lewd and descriptive with every passing astrosecond.

D is for Duty
(IDW Universe)

“You need to stop this right now!” Sideswipe hisses in his brother’s audio.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Sunstreaker snarls, one fist half-raised as if to strike his twin.

“Have you lost it?!” Sideswipe demands, ignoring the warning in his brother’s raised threat. Wrapping both hands around Sunstreaker’s fist, “He’s still practically a youngling! And a student!! And you…you’re a wanted mech and facing arrest because you were videoed at those fragging gladiator matches! If Security ties you together with him, he’ll be arrested and possibly interrogated―”

“I’ve been careful!”

“Someone is bound to notice a sunny, gorgeous daffodil like you skulking around, courting a timid, unwary student! If word reaches his instructors, they’re sworn to duty to inform Security any possible danger to their students, worried about their precious student’s chastity, especially around a well-known participant in the gladiator ring!”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him!”

“Then do the right thing!” Sideswipe argues. Clutching his brother’s hand against his chassis, beseeching his twin to listen to reason, no matter how hard it was to swallow, “You have to let him go! At least until things calm down…” Sideswipe coddles and pleads, no matter the struggle his brother offers to try to tug free from him.

Sunstreaker’s helm hangs, his frame sagging against his twin’s chassis, as if bearing the weight of all of Cybertron on his gold painted shoulders, “…Fine.” Tearing his wrist free, he ignores Sideswipe’s comms to come back, striding angrily out of their apartment unit, needing to vent his frustration and regret at one of the bars. Hopefully he’ll find someone eager for a fight, his fists ready and willing to knock helms together and loosen denta.

E is for Entertainment
(G1 Universe)

“Sunny…” Perceptor gasped out, hands clasped over his mouth. Trying to stifle his laughter as the mech slowly dips his fingers into the large receptacle of freshly poured paint. The warrior’s hands etching a rainbow of gold, red, and blue across the smooth contour of his hips, dipping into the cradle and seams.

“But you look so good bedecked in gold and rubies.” The mech snickers, tracing the yellow and crimson paint in slick whirls, leaning up and pecking the mech on the lips.

Perceptor responds by dipping a finger into another container of paint, and gently tapping the damp fingertip against Sunstreaker’s lips. Dabbing a fresh coat of summery green on the artist’s lips.

Sideswipe was shocked at returning from patrol duty to find his brother and mate covered from helm to pede in a range of multicolored handprints, neither mech appearing contrite at the canvas of handprints upon the berth and walls.

“Sideswipe!” Perceptor, bedecked in a canvas of half-dried paint, bounced over to the stunned soldier. Kissing the mech on the lips, grinning smugly as the coy gesture paints the red twin’s lips bright green. Sunstreaker roaring in laughter at his brother’s expression.

F is for Freedom
(G1 Universe)

Perceptor is not graceful. His alternate mode proves not the least bit of defense against any weapon. He has no wheels, no throttle to race or flee from an enemy. He is small and easily forgettable among his peers who possess brilliant alternate modes to travel the open roads or to sour the heavens.

Still…for all of its vices, it’s quite nice to be able to fit comfortably into either Sideswipe’s or Sunstreaker’s passenger seat, his driver gunning the engine, gas pedal floored as the twins and microscope carve the landscape. Perceptor’s delighted laughter shadowed by the twins whoops and howls, egging the other twin on faster and faster.

G is for Greed
(G1 Universe)

The twins snarl beneath their breath. Optics glaring daggers at the dense mech’s back strut and his shorter, inebriated relaxed partner.

Perceptor weaves on his pedes, a half empty cube of high grade in one hand. Laughing softly behind one hand at something the shuttle said, he almost drops his cube, stumbling to catch his drink before it smashes onto the floor.

“Who does he think he is?” Sunstreaker pouts, arms folded across his chassis as he glares at Skyfire’s back. Never mind the other milling Autobots in the Rec Room sharing high grade and celebration, enjoying a victory against the ‘Cons, the twins’ sole attention focused on the microscope and the indulgent smile that the white shuttle bestows on the chuckling scientist, “Everyone knows that Percy is with us!”

“It just isn’t fair.” Sideswipe whines, batting an empty container between his hands, “We can never get Perceptor to drink of sip of high grade with us…what makes the big oaf so special?”

Someone comments drily over their shoulder, “Oh, probably the fact that when either of you are buzzed on high grade, your hands tend to wander onto very inappropriate places on a mech who is very shy and very overwhelmed between the two of you molesting him in public.”

The twins whip around, meeting Ratchet’s bemused gaze.

Ratchet rolls his optics at the besotted looks the twins throw towards their smaller partner. “If the two of you will behave yourselves, then perhaps you should rescue Skyfire before your bondmate collapses into his arms from too much high grade.” The medic chooses to leave the twins to contemplate the next course of action, his attention focused on Jazz and Prowl, Ratchet scowling, ready to browbeat an intoxicated Jazz about straddling the hapless, confused SIC, the saboteur sharing the cup of high grade by means of mouth-to-mouth. Jazz cheered on by Blaster and Prowl’s fellow Datsuns.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe share a look. “After you,” Sideswipe lets his twin lead, Sunstreaker cutting a path through the crowd, reaching the shuttle and microscope in time when the microscope swoons backward, Skyfire quickly reaching to catch his inebriated fellow scientist.

Perceptor hiccupping, CPU reeling with a sharp jolt of vertigo, legs tangling and falling back into the warrior’s arms. He grinned dazedly at his mate, waving the now empty cube of high-grade, “Hi, Sunny!” The microscope chirps.

Skyfire grins in shy embarrassment, “Thank you. I didn’t know if I would catch him in time.” The shuttle rubs the back of his helm with one hand.

“We got it now, big guy.” Sideswipe pats the worried shuttle on the elbow as he walks past. Joining Sunstreaker as they march Perceptor out of the Rec Room. Leading the wobbling, gaily grinning and giggling mech to their rooms, cringing at the thought of the morning cycle to come and the resulting hangover that would leave Perceptor grouchy and sullen, not to mentioned embarrassed about making a spectacle drinking so many cubes of high-grade.

H is for Hands
(IDW Universe)

Sunstreaker soon regretted the brilliant notion to bring his date to one of the gladiator matches.

Perceptor hid his face, shuddering at the violent cries and anguished screams erupting from the fighting pit. He huddled under Sunstreaker’s arm, Sideswipe leaning against the microscope’s opposite side, whispering steadily into the slimmer mech’s audio, face also turned away from the spectacle. “I want to go home now…” Perceptor pleads, beseechingly tugging at Sunstreaker’s hand. “Please, can we go? I-if you want, I’ll take the train, an-and you and Sideswipe can return to watch the final match…”

“No, it’s okay.” Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stand, shielding Perceptor between as the crowd bolts to its feet, screams and roars in approval as one of the gladiators’ waves his opponent’s sheared arm in the air, brandishing the damaged limb like a flag of victory, “Let’s get out of here.” Sunstreaker helped Perceptor through the crowd, Sideswipe watching for any wild elbows or over-energized patrons as the three mechs made a swift exit from the stadium viewing area.

I is for Interloper
(G1 Universe)

Ratchet and Wheeljack were taking a joor or two break from their duties. Perceptor, considerate mech that he was, offered to remain in the Bay and assist any Autobots with minor injuries or scuffs. Promising to call the medic in the case of an emergency.

The door slid open nary half a joor into his shift, the lone Minibot grouching something along the line of ‘Idiots’ and ‘Oversized oafs should watch where they’re stomping’.

Dimly he registers a muffled moan, followed by the whimpered complain of, “Sunstreaker, no…Sideswipe! Ratchet will offline us if he-mmpph!!” Cliffjumper freezes in the open doorway, unintended voyeur, staring in open-mouth shock as the infamous twins avidly accost the microscope.

The twins glare hotly at the Minibot who dared to enter the Med Bay. Sunstreaker’s mouth sealed to Perceptor’s, the bright twin sitting on the medical berth, while Sideswipe wraps his arms around the microscope’s waist, the red warrior standing along the scientist’s back.

“Get out. Right. Now.” Sideswipe growls at the intruder.

“N-N-no problem.” Cliffjumper holds up his hands in surrender. Slowly, carefully backing out of the Med Bay.

Joors later, the entire Ark ― and no doubt the residents of the Nemesis ― leap out of their dermal plating at Ratchet’s furious bellow, “Stop molesting Perceptor in my Med Bay!”

J is for Joined
(G1 Universe)

“Oh, Sunny, it’s beautiful…” Perceptor judiciously holds the picture within his hands, his optics glowing and face bright in pure joy.

Sunstreaker’s facial plating heat up, the artist unusually introverted and nervous about presenting his latest work. Sideswipe grins cheekily at the gold warrior’s back, enjoying the moving picture of his brother and their mate both battling to see whose flushed plating burned hotter.

In Perceptor’s hands, the picture gracefully depicted the twins and Perceptor sitting together, the scientist leaning against Sideswipe’s chest, while smiling at something the golden twin said. The artistic rendition of a recollection from Sunstreaker’s memory files made Perceptor’s Spark glow, and he almost did not want to part with the picture long enough for Sideswipe to have it framed and set up on the wall in their room.

K is for Kids
(G1 Universe)

“Why you and red twin always touching Perceptor?”

Sunstreaker blinks at the question, meeting Sludge’s curious question with an unflappable, “Well, Sludge, when two mechs really like each other are feeling hot and bothered…”

“Sunstreaker!” Perceptor waves his hands frantically, attempting to shush the mech, hastily trying to prevent possibly sordid details falling on young audios.

Sludge appeared more confused, “But not two mechs. It three mechs…and it not hot, either. It’s winter.”

“All right, all right!” Sunstreaker gripes, “Anyway! When mechs really love each other, they like to hold hands, share a table together, kiss each other on the lips and wrap their arms around another and―”

“If you dare to finish that statement, Sunstreaker, I swear that you will not see the inside of my room or the surface of my berth for the next meta cycle!” Perceptor crossly forewarns the gold twin; while Sludge tilts his head innocently and observes Sunstreaker begins the ancient and time-honored tradition of groveling for his mate’s mercy, pledging never to educate Sludge or his brothers on Cybertronian intimacy. Leaving the sacred duty in Ratchet and Wheeljack’s capable hands.

L is for Love
(G1 Universe)

Perceptor hid his face into his folded arms quietly bemoaning the fact that he even bothered to online this morning.

“Valentine’s Day is when you share with the people you care about with a gift expressing your affection!” Carly eagerly advised the curious scientist, Perceptor puzzled by this tradition, “Perceptor, you should do the same! Many of the other Autobots will be exchanging gifts. It would not hurt for you to peek out of your labs once in a while.”

The scientist sensing his plating flush at the memory. How naïve of him not to notice that the small femme recognized his young, quiet crush on the twins! Carly, enthusiastic about helping Perceptor find true love before the upcoming holiday, finally managed to coax the microscope into pondering and pulling together a gift for the twins.

He still felt unsure about the box of heavy artistry paper and glossy, pristine oil sticks for Sunstreaker, and the slick plastic wrapped video game that Sideswipe had been bemoaning that all of the game stores had sold out.

With Carly’s more dexterous help with the smaller, finer details, Perceptor managed to wrap and label the gifts, the microscope secretly proud of the red paper and gold bows. Carly grinning at Perceptor’s awe, “You just have to relax and trust your hear― Ummm, your Spark! I can’t wait to see their faces!”

It was soon after, however, that their plan deteriorated.

Like a few of the other Autobots wanting to remain anonymous in their gift-giving, Perceptor and some of the others decided to set their gifts in the Rec Room on a separate table designated to the mechs whom their secret-admires proved too shy to personally present their offerings…

…Or the secret-admires wanted to surprise the unguarded mech with not only the gift but also disclosing their identity after the mech opened the present. Such was the case of both Hound and Prowl, the two mechs already having opened their gifts, the green mech floundering for a gracious thank-you while Mirage smiled coyly, pecking the mech on the cheek. The SIC twitching his gaze about until finally falling on Jazz, the saboteur sliding into his arms when the black and white officer was at a loss of words.

Perceptor crept self-consciously down the halls leading to the Rec Room, praying to Primus that no one would notice him set the gifts down upon the elected podium.

He did not even make it past the Med Bay.

“What’cha got there, Percy?” Blaster poked his head over the microscope’s shoulder, curiously peeking at the two boxes nestled in the mech’s arms.

Perceptor almost cracked his helm into the Communication officer’s jaw, jumping and yipping in surprise at the stealthy mech sneaking up from behind and unintentionally startling him. The gifts slip from his slack grip, causing him to cry out in alarm.

Before the wrapped boxes hit the ground, a pair of black hands smoothly scooped them out of mid-air.

“Who are these for, Percy?” Sunstreaker juggles to presents, noting the horrified expression that flickers across the microscope’s face, “You’re trying to sneak in your gifts before anyone is none the wiser?”

“S-Sunstreaker!” Perceptor desperately stretches his hands out for the two gifts, but the taller warrior easily holds the boxes outside of his reach, “Please return those right now!”

“Whose names are on them, Sunny?” Sideswipe grins over his twins shoulder, jostling his brother for a closer look.

“Come on, you two.” Blaster lays his hands on Perceptor’s shoulders, the red mech worried for startling and causing the microscope to drop and reveal his Valentine presents, “Why don’t you just give them back and let him be on his way?”

“…” Sunstreaker twists the presents out of Sideswipe’s hands, pulling one of the labels flat so that he can read the glyph upon the paper. “Hey…this one’s for me…”

Perceptor feels his fuel tank plummet to the floor.

He does not wait for the anticipated laughter or the ridicule. Optics sting, and face burning with hot mortification, he stutters a weak apology and some half-baked excuse, pushing past Blaster and running back towards his labs, fervently ignoring the officer’s cry that he was sorry, pleading for Perceptor to come back.

Perceptor had not dared to venture out from his labs, even when the orn passed. The Valentines celebration was probably near its end, and the microscope did not wish to face the humiliation or the condolences from his friends about the entire embarrassment.

Maybe he could finally convince Wheeljack to install an energon dispenser inside his lab. He could then set up a makeshift berth…Then he would only occasionally need to visit the rest of the Ark except for when he offered assistance in the upcoming battles. By the time the next few months slowly rolled past, perhaps the entire fiasco would be a distant recollection.

A pounding knock drew him to raise his helm from the resting place against his folded arms. “Go away, please!” Perceptor frowned at the door, surprised to have visitors, but not desiring to hold company with anyone right now.

If anything, the knocking continues much harder.

Perceptor sighs in exasperated defeat. Pushing his chair back, he moves toward the door, “This isn’t really a good time―” He palms the keypad to open the door.

Take by surprise when the door opens to reveal two very familiar mechs.

He shoves his hands into Sunstreaker’s chest before the mech begins to take a step into his sanctuary, “T-This isn’t a good time!” The microscope shuffles awkwardly, his frame pathetically weak against the gold warrior, “Please leave!” He begs.

“Why?” Sideswipe assists his brother, the two managing to grasp Perceptor by his elbows and physically lift him off his pedes, removing the flabbergasted obstacle away from the doorway, “So you can hide in your little hole in the wall?”

“I understand if you were perturbed by my intentions, but I don’t appreciate either of you intruding in here. And I don’t welcome your insults about my reservation to remain in peace and solitude.”

“Who said anything about being disturbed by anything?” Sunstreaker demands.

“And who said anything about coming here to insult you?” Sideswipe nudges Perceptor to step back a few more paces. Pinning the microscope against the worktable, his twin mimicking the gesture.

The scientist, confused by their intentions, stutters, “W-why are you here, then?”

Sideswipe grins, “You went to such great effort to give both of us such thoughtful Valentines gifts…” The mech’s breath on his neck causes Perceptor to whimper and shudder against the warm gust of air.

“We’d thought we should thank you. Nice and proper of us, given how patient we’ve been,” Sunstreaker purred in his audio.

“P-patient?” Perceptor gasps as Sunstreaker curls against his side, hand tracing the smooth surface of his chassis and tray.

“You can’t even begin to imagine how frustrating it was to wait for you to make the first move.” Sideswipe decorated Perceptor’s jaw with slow, lingering caresses, kissing along the slope of his chin and throat.

“Guess it’s a bit late to say ‘Happy Valentines Day’.” Sunstreaker notes, “But at least we get to unwrap our final present.” He snakes one hand between Perceptor’s legs, dragging a knuckle up and down the codpiece.

Perceptor gasps into the fleeting kiss Sunstreaker graces his lips before the twins begin to learn every crevice and nook upon his frame, the scientist not certain who leads the three of them to lie upon the floor with Perceptor between them.

Much of the next few joors are scarce and difficult to recall. But when Perceptor comes back online within the entangled embrace of both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, he isn’t too worried about his fractured memories. Too pleasantly sore and sated to offer any protest when the twins tug him back down, the soft thrum of their engines hushing and leading him back into recharge.

M is for Monster
(Shattered Universe)

“Perceptor…” Sideswipe kneels down, scarred lavender Autobot symbol flashing in the dim light of the ransacked lab. Ruby optics bright in worry, he reaches a grey hand out towards the huddled mech hiding in the shadowed corner of the room, arms wrapped in a consolatory embrace around his person.

Blue optics gaze blankly, alternating between him and the extended fingertips, not recognizing his mate, instinctively shrinking away from the encroaching hand. “No please don’t…please…Sunny…no…” Perceptor quivers, hands tightening upon his biceps, shifting across the slippery surface soaked in slivers of cuts and bright streaks of energon.

“Come on, Perceptor.” Sideswipe crawls closer, shushing and whispering coaxing words and soft praises as he leads the scientist into his embrace, “I’m going to get you out of here…Megatron…Megatron will offer you safe haven….and Hook and the other Constructicons will be ecstatic to have you back…someone willing to listen to their harping and griping…”

“I can’t let you do that, Sides.”

Perceptor freezes within his embrace. A mumbled mewl of, “NoNoNoNoSunnyNooo…”

Sideswipe glared at his brother, the mech blocking the open doorway. Bronze paint washed with the red light of his optics. “You! How could you do this to him?!”

Sunstreaker hardly flinches or appears moderately guilty, ignoring the wounds and energon splashed upon the scientist. “Prime wasn’t very happy that his new scientist refused to upgrade our weapons.”

“Prime can rot in the Pit for all I care.” Sideswipe carefully helps Perceptor onto his pedes, never turning his back on his twin. Glaring at Sunstreaker, the mech barring their only means of escape, “I’m taking him with me.” He swears in frigid warning.

Sunstreaker spreads his arms and hands, as if opening in welcome, to embrace his brother. Long slender blades shoot from their mounts in his wrists, the bronze Autobot smiling devilishly at Sideswipe and his small friend.

“Just go ahead and try, brother.”

N is for Never Again
(G1 Universe)

“I have nothing to say to you, Sunstreaker.”

The gold warrior grimaced. “Look, I don’t know why you’re taking this so personally―”

“Oh dear, Primus forbid that your actions garner such a reaction on my part.” Perceptor turns in his seat, moving his attention away from his project. Glaring at the scowling mech who dared to enter his lab.

“I didn’t mean it that way!”

“You meant every word.” Perceptor glares at Sunstreaker, as if he is something abysmally disgusting that had the misfortune of slithering across his sight. “You were angry when you found out that Sideswipe and I shared one night cycle together. You then made every effort to humiliate your brother and me in front of the other Autobots. Your behavior caused Sideswipe to sever our relationship because you lack the maturity to grasp the fact that he may desire affections beyond what you can provide. And you dare to insult me now by insinuating that I am acting like a prude who has merely misunderstood events.”

“He’s my brother!” Sunstreaker tries to dredge up some form of argument, unconsciously wilting under the microscope disapproving ― and the warrior detected a great deal of disappointment as well ― Perceptor’s cold optics offer no remorse. “We’ve been together for millions of stellar cycles; before you joined the Autobots or stepped foot on the Ark!”

“Don’t waste my time with your petty rationalities.” Perceptor spun his seat back around to face the tabletop, returning to welding the metalwork together, “The only thing I will offer you is the promise that I will never seek anything from either you or Sideswipe for the foreseeable future. Enjoy your victory. Now…if you would be so kind...Get. Out. Of. My. Lab.”

O is for Opposition
(G1 Universe)

“I don’t approve of this…relationship that you insist on carrying out with the Twins.” Ratchet frowns at the stubborn scientist, the red and cobalt microscope matching his censored tone with his own.

“Begging your pardon, Ratchet, but as you are not either my Sire or my Creator, I fail to see where your opinion will change the fact that I wish to bond with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.”

P is for Pensive
(IDW Universe)

“You and Sideswipe are quite intuitive and very intelligent,” Perceptor leans back into Sunstreaker’s embrace, numerous datapads spread out around their legs, the microscope taking a break from his studies, “Why didn’t either of you decide to join the Academy or finish school?”

“We didn’t fit in with the elite.” Sunstreaker barely lays an optic on the datapads and their contents, not deigning to try to decipher the scripted glyphs or the scientific theories detailed on the screens, “Not enough money. Not the right looks. Not the right friends. They would have kicked us out on our afts the very first day we dared to step pede into their hallowed halls.”

“…But you and Sides are perfect to me.” Perceptor’s whispered confession brings a smile to his partner, who preens at the faint heated plating and the shy drop of the microscope’s optics.

“That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Sunstreaker turns Perceptor around within his embrace, kissing the eager lips that meet him halfway and slowly, carefully guiding the mech to lie back. Big blue optics blinking up at him in wonder and trust as he stretches predatorily across the mech, fingers probing the interface socket between the red and cobalt’s mechs legs, causing the mech to sigh and arch into his caress. Datapads forgotten around them as the gold warrior proceeds to show the young student just how perfectly they fit together.

Q is for Question
(G1 Universe)

“Do you enjoy getting tossed and thrown off the seekers when you and your brother practice your Jet Judo?” Perceptor slaps down another smooth metal plate to weld over one of Sideswipe’s many open wounds, the red warrior whining and cringing as the scientist carelessly manhandles his injured bondmate, “Or do you and Sunstreaker secretly enjoy your masochistic tendencies of dragging your sorry selves back to the Ark after being bucked off Starscream?”

R is for Recharge
(G1 Universe)

Drifting into recharge was an easy feat. Once his helm hit the berth, Perceptor willing tumbled into an unbroken rest-period.

The microscope is also an early riser and has no trouble onlining, rising to wait and greet the solar system’s rising sun as its light peeks through the small porthole windows of the ship.

However, the twins make his efforts futile. Settled between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, one of Perceptor’s arms trapped under Sunstreaker’s shoulder, while the gold warrior’s arms possessively encircle his waist.

Sideswipe lies partially over the microscope, a hand settled on Sunstreaker’s hip. One leg pushed between Perceptor’s, the weight anchoring the scientist onto the berth no matter how patiently he wiggles and tries to slip a limb free.

“Stop wriggling.” Sunstreaker grunts, arms tightening around the microscope. Pulling the mech more firmly against his chest, binding him tight, “The sun’s not even up yet.” Sideswipe nestles into a more comfortable sprawl upon the microscope, pressing in closer to the combined heat of his brother and the shorter scientist.

Perceptor huffs a sigh. He hoped that Wheeljack would not feel abandoned when the microscope failed to appear to watch the engineer try out his latest gadget, the mech promising Perceptor that today would be the day that the small contraption would not explode in their faces.

S is for Sparkling
(G1 Universe)

“Congratulations, Perceptor. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are both carrying your sparklings.”

“B-b-b-b-but…” Perceptor looks ready to collapse at the news.

“Yes, yes. I know it is a shock. Nevertheless, I implore you to go back into the Med Bay and compose your mates before their frazzled patience and fluctuating mood swings overrule their restraint and they try to slaughter the other injured Minibots insisting upon teasing them.”

“I had assumed the Minibots would show greater survival instincts, especially after what the twins did to Motormaster during the battle when the Stunticon boorishly pointed out that the twins were looking a bit thick and moving a great deal slower.” Perceptor sighs in defeat, but eager to return to his mates, he steps through the door. Venturing in the middle of the scene, observing when Sunstreaker expertly dropkicks the metal lock-bar holding the medical berth upright, sending the berth and the cursing Gears crashing onto the floor.

Ratchet scowls as his patient whimpers and whines from his position sprawled upon the Med Bay floor, “No, apparently they don’t learn after watching the twins try to yank Motormaster’s head off his shoulders, promising to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

T is for Turnabout
(G1 Universe)

“…Perceptor, I think I’m in love with you.” Doe eyed, Sideswipe grins in glee at their fellow mech undergoing a brief detention in the Prison Sector.

“Charmer,” The scientist’s lips twitch in an unintended smile. The mech reclining in his seat within his cell, settled across from the twins’ cubicle.

“It was….beautiful.” Sideswipe gestured with his hands, “I mean, did you see the look on Brawn and Cliffjumper’s faces?”

“Unfortunately, I was undergoing a reprimand from Prowl due to my behavior.” Perceptor folded his hands, using them to rest and prop his chin as he contemplated the awed expressions of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s faces, “…But yes, I’m sure it was quite amusing when their weapons backfired during drill fire practice, rubber glue pouring out of the seams and locking their hands around the remains of their blasters.”

“Let it be known,” Sunstreaker raised a hand in solemn address, “Never laugh and ridicule Perceptor, or boast that the mech couldn’t hold a blaster if it was glued to his hands.”

U is for Ultimatum
(G1 Universe)

“You have two options here, Percy,” Sunstreaker traps the mech against the wall, cornering the scientist in his lab. Perceptor stutters and fumbles for an excuse or counter-argument, azure optics round and wide as the gold warrior pushes into his personal space, “You can stop worrying and fretting over your crush on Sideswipe because he’s my twin and you’re afraid that I won’t want to share, and you’ll follow me back to my room where Sideswipe’s waiting…and then the three of us can have a really good time…On the other hand, you can stand here and continue arguing, and I’ll throw you across that worktable and ‘face you until you can’t see straight. Then I’ll comm. Sideswipe and tell him to get his aft down here to join the fun.”

“B-but…w-we shouldn’t―”

Perceptor squealed in alarm as the lab swings about, various incomplete gadgets and projects spilling onto the cluttered floor as he is sprawled across the worktable. Sunstreaker pressing him down, fingers weaving with Perceptor’s, codpieces rocking together as the gold warrior slides between the scientist’s thighs, “I warned you,” Sunstreaker stifled any further protest by stealing the breath from Perceptor’s bronchial vents with a ravenous clash of denta and glossa.

V is for Victory
(G1 Universe)

“I swear before Primus that I have never played this videogame before…let alone any videogame!” Perceptor is in awe at the victory logo upon the large television screen, hands still holding the game controls in a slowly slackening grip.

Sideswipe groans long and loud in defeat, sulkily chucking his controls in the direction of the television. “Shut up, Sunny.” Sideswipe whimpers, while his brother delights with another barrage of laughter.

“Suck it up, you big sparkling.” Sunstreaker manhandles Perceptor into his embrace, smugly smacking a congratulatory kiss upon the microscope’s lips, “You were the one who placed the bet that if you lost, you would willingly volunteer to assist Wheeljack and Ratchet with their next routine checkups.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Sideswipe snivels, crawling into the microscope’s willing lap, while Perceptor reassuringly kneading the back of his neck and shoulders, “The Dinobots are the ones due for a physical!”

W is for Wicked
(Shattered Universe)

“You still don’t get it, you complete, utter fool.” Perceptor drags clawed fingertips down the purple insignia upon Sideswipe’s chassis. The mech groaning as the appendages graze the ragged wounds, dipping into scorched and shorn wires. “There’s nothing you can say that will ever convince me to join the Decepticons. No matter how expertly you grovel or cajole me to follow.”

“Perceptor..” Sideswipe implores the frigid, ruby gaze. Hands digging into the microscope’s wrists, “Please. Please come with me…we can be together again. We can be whole.”

The scientist rips away, snarling down at the sprawled, injured traitor. “You still don’t get it!” Perceptor wails, aiming the barrel of the blaster between Sideswipe’s optics, “How can I possibly be whole after you stole him away from me! You murdered your own brother!! The other member of our trine!”

“It was an accident!” Sideswipe coughs up wet energon, the lavender mech blood spilling from his lips, “How could I have known! We were grappling for the weapon and it suddenly fired!”

“You have no idea how alone I am. After Sunstreaker…deactivated by you…When you turned traitor…How could you possibly have any comprehension about the loss and grief I endured, and the rebuke and scorn from my peers?”

“Perceptor…”

“Shut up.” The gray microscope snaps. Gaze impenetrable, his intentions resolute, weapon unmoving, “Maybe with you gone, I can finally be at peace. I’d rather be alone than to know you are online on the same planet as I, but forever beyond my grasp…you, the last shred of happiness I ever experienced.”

Sideswipe automatically flinches and squeezes his optics closed when Perceptor’s finger constricts around the trigger.

A jet careens into the microscope’s side, tossing the mech in one direction, the weapon in another, “Don’t even think about reaching for that weapon again, Autobot!” Starscream and his Seeker Trine bestride the bowed mech, Perceptor snarling in pain, clutching his damaged limb, dislocated on impact.

“Took your time, didn’t you?” Sideswipe wheezes, gratefully accepting Hook’s assistance, the Constructicon hoisting the warrior onto his pedes, one arm slung over his shoulder, Mixmaster assisting him in propping the injured mech between them.

“Your message did not give us a precise GPS position.” Hook scowled, leading Sideswipe towards the small shuttle while the Seekers wrestle Perceptor into stasis cuffs, “I hope this fool’s errand was worth it, Sideswipe. He was truly willing to fire that weapon at you and finish you off.”

Sideswipe chanced a glance over his shoulder, for the moment silently watching the Seekers march the prisoner towards a separate shuttle. The microscope’s shoulders shaking, lips pressed tightly together, lubricants trickling from his ruby optics, wet trails dancing small streams down his cheeks as the mech cursed his folly for falling for Sideswipe’s trap. The pain and betrayal still too raw, Perceptor unwilling and incapable of forgiving the loss of one mate to another mate he had loved so passionately.

“…One day, Hook. Maybe he’ll forgive me,” Sideswipe finally whispers, gaze broken when Hook and Mixmaster carefully lay him onto the stretcher once they board the shuttle. Hook shouting commands as the pilot begins to hit the various switches and beginning the protocol and procedures for the return to base.

X is for X Marks The Spot
(Shattered Universe)

“I am truly sorry that you had to suffer at the hands of your former allies.” Megatron walked alongside the Autobot ― recently turned Decepticon ― providing the mech a thorough tour of their base. The pace slow enough to allow the soldier a chance to stride at his own stride, the wounds mostly healed but persisting to bother the mech if he moved too quickly.

“What’s done is done,” Sideswipe could not meet the fathomless, remorseful blue gaze of the Decepticon leader, the mech truly sorry for something he had no control of whatsoever, “You saved my aft. That was more than enough.”

“I am glad to see that your recovery is coming along smoothly,” The leader guides him into another passageway, indicating the labs as they passed, Megatron nodding a greeting to Starscream and his trine as they walk past the open doorway, “Hopefully your transition into our ranks will prove just as straightforward.”

Another door slides open with a low hush, and a cobalt, white, and red scientist stepping out, attention focused entirely on the datapad in his hand. Seamlessly Megatron lays a hand on the distracted mech’s shoulder and swings him around and about before the smaller mech smashes head-first into his leader’s broad chassis.

“S-S-Sir!” The microscope gasps, chagrined that he has nearly plowed into the mech, “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention!”

“It’s all right, Perceptor.” Megatron calms the mech’s frantic babble. Smiling benignly, “But this is the perfect opportunity to introduce you to our newest recruit. Sideswipe, I am honored to introduce you to Perceptor, one of our leading scientists, responsible for many of the upgrades and computer programs that have won us many battles against the Autobots.”

“Perceptor, huh?” Sideswipe held out a hand in greeting, “Heard a lot about you. Pretty infamous among the ranks of the Autobots, with all your projects, especially the ones that succeeded in embarrassing Prime in front of the lower ranks.”

“T-Thank you?” Clearly, Perceptor wasn’t certain whether to take that as a compliment. Placing a shaky hand in the former Autobot’s, squeezing and shaking Sideswipe’s hand in timid greeting.

The contact incurred a zing! And an energy shot through his Spark. Sideswipe’s ruby optics flare wide, reeling from the immediate attraction of their Sparks.

“Oh!” Perceptor yanks his hand back, just as startled.

Megatron smiled charitably at the two mechs, not blind to the connection that had suddenly seared between them, “Hmmm. I do believe you two will get along just fine.” He decides to leave the two Decepticons alone to become better acquainted, trusting Sideswipe in Perceptor’s capable hands, the microscope certain to finish the tour of the base.

Y is for Yield
(IDW Universe)

“Surrender with grace, Sunny.” Sideswipe’s pede bobs as he kicks his foot up and down, legs crossed as he avidly views his brother cursing a blue streak, the mech sprawled on his stomach, the young student seated comfortably, and quite contently, on his back. The microscope grinning in glowing pride at executing a perfect wrist-hold, throwing the mech over his shoulder, and pinning Sunstreaker expertly with both wrists crossed behind his back.

Who would have known that their sweet, gullible, shy Perceptor had taken a few classes in Metallikato along with some nighttime classes?

Z is for Zen
(G1 Universe)

“No, Sideswipe. You spelled the word wrong. It’s spelled Z-E-N.”

“Noooo,” Sideswipe refuses to back down. “I like my spelling better. S-S-P.”

“And what, by Primus, has led you to that conclusion?” Perceptor inquires, aghast at Sideswipe’s insistence at purposefully misspelling the word in the crossword puzzle that Carly and Spike had so courteously provided during one of their visits.

“Because it spells Sideswipe-Sunstreaker-Perceptor,” Sideswipe gives him a look that clearly speaks for itself, ‘duh, Perceptor.’ The warrior grinning at the flustered scientist, “If you ask me, that’s the perfect definition of Zen!”

Perceptor groans, covering his face. Resolutely deciding never to allow Sideswipe anywhere near his crossword puzzles again.

Still, he does not refuse the cheeky laughter and the nuzzling mech, huffing a put-upon sigh and wrapping his arms around the warrior’s shoulders, putting the crossword puzzle aside for another day, his attention now focused on a bored and amorous mate.
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Title: Alphabet Soup