Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Beauty Within	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 4014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Strengthening Sparks

Bee felt the weak pulse of Cliffjumper’s spark against his. It seemed like a scared sparkling that was terrified to look at another. Through the cable connecting them, he pulsed his spark gently against it. His spark asked softly for entrance into the mech’s processors, to help Cliffjumper defragment the damage that the cons had done.

The red mech’s spark pulsed with uncertainty. Though it faintly recognized the intruding spark as another Autobot, it was scared. The pain from the gangbang was still bright in its core. Bee gently stroked it with his, gently probing, gently caressing. It pulsated against him, hesitantly allowing a brief access. Taking the chance, Bee flowed through, entering Cliffjumper’s processors. The weak, terrified spark now surrounded by the blue softness that was Bumblebee.

“He’s in,” T’ran said. Watching the screen of her hand held monitor, she watched the data from the red Autobot’s meta. Standing by the mech’s opened helm, she looked over the mech’s chassis at her brother.

“Press his legs tighter, I’ve almost got the connection,” Droct said to the dancers that held the mech’s legs.

They had Cliffjumper’s legs bent and pressed against his body, trying to give Droct the easiest access to the mech’s battle processor. Pushing down on his legs, the femmes held him in the awkward position. Reaching his hands further into the abdominal section, Droct finally accessed the terminal data port and plugged his monitor’s cable in. Gently pulling his hands out, he punched in a code and began to read the data.

“He’s in,” Droct informed his sister. He tried to keep his optics off the bright yellow mech standing next to Cliffjumper’s shoulder; the mech who had taken his very spark and then stomped on it. Who was now in the process of emergency bonding with his fellow Autobot. Yes, the damned yellow Autobot who he still couldn’t help but love.. And Droct hated himself for his weakness.

Faintly, Bee heard them, but his meta was concentrating on his connection with Cliffjumper. He gently surrounded the weak mech’s quivering spark. Letting it feel his love. Slowly, the spark let him in further and further. Into the fragmented core that was now Cliffjumper. Finally, Bee was completely in, he had total integration, total access.

He felt Cliffjumper’s spark waver in fear as he began to sort through files. Slowing down, he caressed it with his own blue spark; enveloping the spark with comforting waves of calm energy. As his friend’s spark relaxed and began to hesitantly enter Bee; the yellow mech dove further into Cliffjumper’s shattered programs, completing the full integration of their processing systems.

Slumping to the floor next to Cliffjumper, Bumblebee went into his defragmentation sequence. His programs not only having to go through his own systems, but the red mech’s as well.

“Is he going to be ok?” Z’ren asked T’ran. Reaching down with her free hand, she gently rubbed the sleeping mech’s helm.

“Yes, he’ll be out twice as long as normal. Since he’s got two systems to defrag,” T’ran told her. Settling herself for a long period of monitoring, she nodded at the dancers to set Cliffjumper’s legs back down.

“Hey girls, we didn’t miss any fun did we?” CoLene said. She came in with the other two ‘decoys’ and scoped out the situation with her sharp options. Her light blue chassis danced with the crazy headlights of T’ran and Droct. “So what the heck are you doing with Bee connected to the Autobot?” she asked as she noticed the defragmenting yellow mech slumped on the ground by the table. The thick connection cable ran from inside his chest to the Autobot’s.

Z’ren and S’taq were gently lowering the Autobot’s legs back into a more ‘normal’ position. The cable connecting to the monitor that Droct was watching came out from between the mech’s legs. Carefully, Droct made sure that the cable didn’t rub too badly against any of the melted circuits within the red mech.

Looking up, S’taq grinned at her friends. “Oh that? Well turns out Bee ain’t just a courier – he’s one of them,” S’taq answered her. The tone of her voice showed that she actually seemed to like that fact; made the yellow mech friend of hers, just that much more interesting. She pointedly ignored Droct’s glare.

“Really?!” CoLene exclaimed. Coming over to the unconscious yellow mech, she helped Z’ren arrange him into a more comfortable position as well.

“Killer! Then he can teach us how to use these!” B’dec exclaimed. She and RiTank pulled out the weapons they had snatched from LongHaul when he’d been knocked out in overload.

T’ran glared at them, disbelief on her face. “You freagin’ STOLE the Decepticon’s weapons?!?!” she yelled. This was going to make the cons even more enraged – than just losing their ‘decoration’!

Twirling the gun in her hand, RiTank snickered. “Well, the slogger didn’t have any credits on him, so he had to pay with something didn’t he?” Her blue optics glistened in humor as she pointed the gun at the wall and pretended to fire it. The pink painted femme had always wanted to be something besides a prostitute. Maybe helping Bee had now given her the opportunity?

The pink dancer did have a little experience with weapons. A long time ago, she’d had a regular client who was a bounty hunter. He’d taken her on a bunch of hunting trips on the other side of the planet. She’d actually gotten quite good at hitting those fast cyberfoxes. Sighing, she wished he’d come back. But it’d been so long since she’d last seen him, that he’d probably been off lined while hunting a mech down. But now it looked like she might have a second chance – maybe with these Autobots.

Z’ren came over at looked at B’dec’s new toy. She was truly amazed that the youngest of the femmes was so bold around those big male Decepticons. “Oh, I just know Bee and his friend will be so happy that we’ve got some guns now! I can’t wait until he wakes up!” she positively beamed at B’dec and RiTank.

T’ran snorted in disgust. It was bad enough that Bee had talked the prostitutes and Droct into helping him rescue his Autobot friend – but now the damned whores wanted to learn how to be like the Autobots and Decepticons! They wanted to shoot and fight it seemed. Granted, with them being dancers, this whole situation shouldn’t have surprised her. For they were used to danger and thrilled with excitement.. “So, I guess you dancers are going to try to go with them, huh?” she said sarcastically.

Z’ren optics got bigger. “You think they’d take us all? Wow! That’d be great, wouldn’t it?!” She almost danced in excitement. The crazy light from their headlights caused her teal paint to almost match her brilliant blue optics.

CoLene looked toward Droct, noticing that he didn’t seem thrilled at all by their talk. Realizing that he wasn’t happy about Bee actually being an Autobot, she made a blunt comment. “You don’t look real happy about Bee, Droct,” she dryly noted.

“Well, remember what happened to him?” Z’ren started. She looked down at her feet, realizing the type of internal pain that the dancers’ excitement must be causing him.

T’ran cut her off. “Why don’t you both shut up right now? Nobody wants to here it.” Her blue optics glared at the dancers, challenging them to continue.

CoLene put her hands on her hips. She was used to the rough life of a prostitute, so no mere femme was going to intimidate her. “We’re not being mean at all to Droct, so why don’t you shut your own synthesizer off, T’ran?” she said in a fairly level tone. Turning towards Droct, she locked her optics with his. “So why aren’t you happy Droct? Bee can make them rebuild you in payment for fixing him and his friend.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Droct simply said. His tone indicating that that was all that he would say about it. He turned his optics back to the monitor in his hand, trying to ignore the femmes.

S’taq chuckled and sat down on the edge of the shelf rock they were using for Cliffjumper’s repair table. Grabbing Droct’s hand, she forced him to sit next to her. “Now Droct, mech’s come to us to bitch about all their problems and then get a little satisfaction. We’ve just about heard it all, haven’t we girls?” She smiled sweetly to him as she put her arm around him. The red of her paint glistened like fire in the dancing light, only adding to her natural beauty.

“He said he didn’t want to talk about it, why don’t you all respect the mech?” T’ran challenged. Her optics were still locked in a stare-down with CoLene, and neither femme was giving the other so much as even a blink.

Z’ren went and plopped herself down on the other side of Droct. This was a game that she and her dancing partner were well practiced at. And they could cause the toughest of mechs to break down and tell them their problems. That’s why they were some of the more popular dancers. For most mechs wanted more than just some satisfaction, they wanted to feel like someone gave a damn about them. This is why they had so many ‘regular customers’. “You’re mad because he’s been lying for all these years, aren’t you?” she said in her gentlest voice.

“And the fact that he’s an Autobot. You’re still not over that are you?” S’taq said gently. She squeezed Droct’s hand and gave the hideous mech an understanding smile.

“How can I get over it? Every time I walk outside…” Droct’s voice broke. The way these two femmes worked together was rapidly causing him to break down.

“But Bee stayed next to you, didn’t he? He is loyal and understanding..” Z’ren said softly. She was sure that they could talk some sense into Droct, make him realize that he should forgive the cheerful yellow mech.

“He doesn’t even judge us, like everyone else does..” B’dec added. Her bright orange and red paint glistened strangely in the headlights that danced about the dark mine shaft; her blue optics shown with her internal pain at being called a ‘worthless whore’ – when she was simply just trying to survive. She was notorious for getting into fights over it.

RiTank nodded her agreement. “You seem to think you’re the only one being ridiculed and degraded, Droct. But a lot of us are. The mechs think because we’re beautiful that they can take us, use us, and throw us away when they’re done. They don’t value us for anything more than a quick thrill. They have no use for us other than that.” Wandering over to Bee, she knelt down and rubbed his chest plate gently. “You want to know why we like Bee so much Droct? Because he likes us for whom we are. Not what he can get out of us. And that’s a rare mech indeed.”

The other dancers all nodded their agreement to her statement.

“Sure he’s cute and exotic, Droct – but we aren’t after him for that – and you know it. He’s not interested in us like that, never will be,” Z’ren said. She forced Droct to face her with her fingers on his helm. “He’s only interested in you.”

“But he’s a freagin’ Autobot. Every time I look at him now, I feel the burning..” Droct’s optics filled with tears and he shuddered as he remembered that terrible day.

“And that’s probably why he lied, Droct. He knew how you would feel about sharing yourself with an Autobot. He wanted to spare you that pain,” S’taq said. She squeezed the trembling mech gently. Although she’d love to have the bright yellow mech all to herself, she knew he was in love with Droct. And being the practical femme she was, she knew the only right thing to do was to help her yellow friend.

B’dec came over and plopped herself down in his lap, the impulsive femme never even bothered to think if the mech would even want her there. Her optics were mere inches from his. “That ‘freagin’ Autobot’ gave it all up for you, Droct. He even tried to change who he was for you. And now you’re just going to throw him out like a piece of rubbish – simply because he can’t change what he is? Are you truly that cold?” she challenged Droct. Her optics told him to prove her wrong.

Droct felt his core temperature rise. The dancers were right. Was he truly so callous as to throw Bee’s love away – simply because the yellow mech couldn’t change what he was? Isn’t that what so many of his old friends had done to him when he couldn’t change the fact he was now deformed? And that had hurt the most about the accident. Everyone threw his friendship away, and forced him to become a loner.

Tears flowed from Droct’s optics, and for the first time in eons, he had three understanding femmes holding him. And not a one was his loyal sister. It was because of Bee that he now had other friends. Bee had taught them to look beyond the physical and see a mech’s true worth. The yellow mech had made his life so much better, more bearable. And all that he had asked in return was for Droct to love him. Could he honestly throw the mech out just because he was an Autobot? Could he learn to look past the insignia and judge a mech by his true worth?

Trembling in the femmes’ embrace, he now understood why it was so wrong to throw Bee away like that. Bee had so willingly thrown his whole life of riches and excitement away, for him. And all he had wanted was love. Was that such a hard thing to give? And now, he was going to get Droct the rebuild that was so long overdue. But could Droct handle having Autobot hands all over him? Taking him apart at the very seams? He shook in repulsion, but then forced it down. For they were merely mechs under those insignias weren’t they? Underneath their guns and violence; their well-maintained and beautiful armor; they were the same naked mechs that he was.

The dancers felt him finally relax in their arms. Grinning triumphantly at each other, they knew they’d done their job.

Looking sheepishly up at them; his new friends that accepted him for being him, Droct said quietly “I guess I could try and forgive the freagin’ Autobot for being an Autobot.”

T’ran’s optics widened in amazement as she heard her brother’s quiet words. Her mouth fell open as she stared in disbelief at the whores. M’ron had always told her that dancers could get any mech to talk about their problems – and that the femmes were pretty good at helping a mech sort those problems out. But she’d never believed him in a million orbit cycles; until she saw the dancers actually do it. She felt ashamed now, because she was one of the majority of garbage mechs who tended to look down upon the dancers.

“You know, I’ve got to say I’m sorry too. I’ve judged you femmes pretty harshly in the past,” she said. Lowering her optics, she went back to her monitoring of Cliffjumper’s meta.

Feeling an arm around her shoulders, T’ran looked up into CoLene’s optics. The light blue leader of the dancers smiled warmly at her. “Hey, sister, we’re used to it. But thanks for the apology.”

---

Please review…
- 22
- 23
- 24
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

Beauty Within