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From Good to Bad to Great	By : geminigirl83 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 2713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Title: From Good to Bad to Great
Pairing: Ratchet/Wreck-gar; Lockdown/Wreck-gar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, anal, fluff, oral, slash, sticky
Summary: (3/3) Things go from bad to great.

In the medbay, Ratchet sat in silence, watching over Wreck-gar’s rebooting frame, his neck wound bandaged, and body thoroughly scanned for viruses. Thankfully, none had turned up. The younger mech had remained unconscious since the trek back to the base, and he was now slowly waking up.

"Ungh…" Wreck-gar groaned, shifting on the berth.

"Easy, kid," Ratchet stated, placing a servo on Wreck-gar’s shoulder. "We’re back at the base."

"Rat--Ratchet," Wreck-gar stammered. "I--I--I--"

"Shh, easy kid," Ratchet repeated.

The junkbot’s optics brimmed with tears and oily streaks soon stained his cheeks, choking sobs raising in his vocalizer. Ratchet climbed onto the berth and embraced Wreck-gar tightly, gently rocking the junkbot. He buried his face into Ratchet’s chassis and sobbed violently, overwhelmed by sorrow, pain, shame, and rage. Ratchet kissed the top of Wreck-gar’s helm and nuzzled him, whispering soft words of affection, desperately trying to calm the younger mech.

"W--was he caught?" Wreck-gar choked out.

Ratchet clenched his optics shut and gritted his dentals. "I’m…sorry…no."

The strangled cry Wreck-gar emitted made Ratchet’s spark twinge in anger and sadness. The suffering Lockdown had inflicted on the kind and innocent mech was deplorable. He was going to make the bounty hunter suffer, and he didn’t care if it took him until the end of his function to do so.

"Ratchet?"

The medbot snapped out of his dark thoughts, grinning softly and stating, "Yeah, kid?"

"W--will you stay with me tonight?" Wreck-gar inquired, bottom lip trembling.

"Of course," Ratchet murmured. "Let’s get some re--"

Ratchet was cut off by Wreck-gar’s lips slamming over his own, shuddering hard as the junkbot’s servo massaged his groin. The medbot gasped and firmly gripped the junkbot by the shoulders and pulled away.

"Kid?!" Ratchet growled. "Stop! What are you doing?!"

Wreck-gar’s optics brimmed with tears again, and he yelled, "I knew it! You don’t want me anymore! You’re disgusted by me!"

"That’s a load of scrap!" Ratchet snapped. "Why would you think such a thing?!"

"You won’t let me touch you!" Wreck-gar cried. "You wouldn’t even kiss me back!"

"I want you," Ratchet growled, lowering his voice and trying to calm himself down. "I’ll always want you, nothing is ever going to change that, but interfacing is the last thing we should be doing right now. You’re injured--"

Wreck-gar shook his helm and sobbed, "I can still feel him, Ratchet! I can feel him kissing me and jamming his glossa into my mouth! I can feel his servo and hook touching me everywhere! I can feel him…forcing himself into me! It hurts! It hurts! I can’t stand it!" He hugged Ratchet hard and cried into the nape of medbot’s neck. "Please, Ratchet, help me! Make his touch go away! Make it go away now!"

Ratchet felt his optics stinging from forming tears, and he murmured into Wreck-gar’s audio, "You need a few orbital cycles of recharge. If…if you still want me by then…I’ll try to make his touch disappear."

The junkbot’s optics widened as Ratchet pinched a cable in his neck, knocking him out almost instantaneously. Ratchet held the limp mech and wept, eventually succumbing to the darkness of recharge.

*

Days passed, five in total, before Wreck-gar regained his strength and optimistic demeanor. It didn’t fool Ratchet, though. He could see a glint of sadness in Wreck-gar’s optics, a sadness he frantically wanted to erase.

It took five weeks before Ratchet could convince his teammates to spend the day sightseeing so he could spend a romantic evening with Wreck-gar, grudgingly putting up with a few crude remarks from Bumblebee. Unfortunately, Ratchet wasn’t much of a romantic at spark, and it was difficult for him to dress up his sparse berthroom, only adding a few scented candles, vanilla, hoping that Wreck-gar could look pass the shortcomings. Nervously, he called Wreck-gar in.

"Yes, Rat--" Wreck-gar began.

He stopped when the sweet scent hit his olfactory sensors and gazed at the candles adorning Ratchet’s room. He giggled and stepped over to Ratchet, hugging the medbot.

"You didn’t have to do all this," Wreck-gar chuckled.

"I wanted to," Ratchet murmured, hugging the mech back.

"Does this mean that you’ll finally touch me?" Wreck-gar asked.

Ratchet huffed, "You know why--"

"I know, I know," Wreck-gar interrupted. "You didn’t want to cause me any further pain. I understand. I’ve just…missed your touch. His still lingers…"

"If you still want me…" Ratchet stated.

"I do!" Wreck-gar cut in. He frowned slightly, and gazed down at the floor. "…But I want more. I want…to be your mate. I want…to bond with you. I…love you, Ratchet."

Ratchet’s optics widened, and he remained silent, overtaken by shock.

Wreck-gar gnawed his bottom lip and turned away. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…"

Snarling, Ratchet grabbed Wreck-gar and spun the junkbot around. "Don’t run away from me, kid." His expression softened. "I still can’t understand what you see in an old mech like me…" He shushed Wreck-gar when the mech tried to speak. "I love you too. I just hope you’re ready to put up with a grouchy medbot until the end of your function."

Beaming with joy, Wreck-gar passionately kissed Ratchet, mewling when the older mech scooped him up and carried him to the berth. Both mechs laid on their sides, glossas dancing together as they lazily explored each other’s body with their servos, searching for seams that gave off pleasant tingles when prodded. Wreck-gar pulled Ratchet to him, and as he rolled onto his back he tugged Ratchet along with him so that the medbot lay above him and between his legs. Their lips met in another soft and sweet kiss. Both mechs sighed in content. They could feel their sparks stir with anticipation and readiness at finally being granted the ability to reach out to its mate, to fuse and bind.

"Ratchet…kiss me lower…please?" Wreck-gar whimpered.

"Here?" Ratchet smirked, trailing down to press his lips on the junkbot’s abdomen, enjoying how the younger mech squirmed under the ticklish sensation.

"Ngh! No!" Wreck-gar whined.

"Then show me," Ratchet chuckled.

Biting his lip, Wreck-gar retracted his plating, shuddering under the lustful stare the medbot was giving him.

"Ah, you want me to kiss your valve?" Ratchet grinned.

"Ye--yes! Please!" Wreck-gar whimpered.

The junkbot wailed and gripped the edges of the berth, thrashing wildly from the gentle, loving lashes of Ratchet’s glossa.

"Ratchet…I…ah…want…you…ngh…touch…me…lower…with…your…fingers," Wreck-gar mewled.

"You want me to…touch your exhaust port?" Ratchet inquired.

"Yes…but if you don’t want to I…" Wreck-gar mumbled.

Wreck-gar cried out when the medbot’s fingers brushed lower, gently prodding the tight opening.

"Ohh…it feels good when you touch me, Ratchet," Wreck-gar moaned. "I want you inside me. Please?"

"I don’t want to hurt you, kid," Ratchet growled.

"You won’t," Wreck-gar murmured. "I trust you, Ratchet."

Ratchet slipped his finger inside, causing Wreck-gar to buck and whine. It was all ready dripping with lubricant, but Ratchet wasn’t taking any chances. He rose from the berth and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. He returned to the berth and eagerly nuzzled into Wreck-gar’s open arms.

Ratchet slicked his digits, and the first slid in with ease, but when it came to the second digit, they looked at each other. Wreck-gar smiled back at him, and raised his hips, pleading for more. A third digit entered and Wreck-gar did let out a small hiss of pain. Ratchet’s servo immediately stilled.

"It’s okay," Wreck-gar whispered. "Keep going."

"Still feel good?" Ratchet cooed, nibbling the younger mech’s shoulder.

"Ungh! Yes…oh yes!" Wreck-gar whined. "Please, I want your plug inside me. Please…make me forget about…him."

Ratchet snarled at the mention of the bounty hunter and pumped his digits faster before coating his painfully hard arousal with lubricant. Ratchet positioned himself at his lover’s entrance. Twining their fingers together, Ratchet held their servos at the sides of Wreck-gar’s helm. Resting their brows together, he took a deep breath and slowly pushed forward.

Wreck-gar gasped and his mouth fell open in surprise from the slow, burning glide. Ratchet took his time easing inside, and Wreck-gar let out a sharp cry as he was finally filled. They stayed still, trying to rein in the intense sensations that shook their cores and threatened to send them spiraling over the edge of orgasmic bliss.

"Amazing…you feel amazing," Wreck-gar panted. "Do I feel…good to you, Ratchet?"

"Ugh! Yes!" Ratchet moaned. "My sweet, beautiful, darling."

Ratchet smiled as he felt Wreck-gar’s legs wrap around him, he smiled feeling the junkbot’s chasis heave beneath his own, and he smiled seeing the shock, wonder, and pleasure in his lover’s optics. He pressed his lips to the junkbot’s, kissing languidly as Wreck-gar thrust his hips upwards.

Slowly Ratchet pulled out, and even slower, pushed back in, never breaking optic contact, ever vigilant for any signs of pain. Wreck-gar began to whimper as a delicious bliss began building up where their bodies connected. His helm lolled from side to side, incoherent words spilling from his lips as he was claimed. He raised his hips with each thrust, and he arched clear off the berth as Ratchet found and stimulated internal sweet spots. Ratchet bit into his lip, desperate to keep himself from ramming into Wreck-gar as he slowly picked up the speed of his thrusting hips. He didn’t realize that energon was dripping down his chin until it was slowly licked away by the junkbot, and when Wreck-gar reached the bruised and broken lip, he kissed it.

"It’s all right…more…do it…" Wreck-gar panted. "Fill me…please…"

Ratchet groaned loudly. He pushed himself up on one arm, letting his other trail down Wreck-gar’s side, grasping the junkbot’s hip as he pushed farther, deeper, and harder. Wreck-gar cried out, clutching at the older mech.

"Primus! Bond with me!" Wreck-gar screamed, splitting open his chest plates. "Bond with me now!"

The medbot gazed in wonder at the spark fragment, engorged and pulsing with arousal, filled the room with a soft white glow. He retracted his chassis, blue light mixing with white. Slowly, Ratchet lowered until their sparks met and twined, eliciting sharp cries from both mechs.

"Take me, Ratchet! Now! Let go! Fill me! I need you! Ah! Ratchet!" Wreck-gar screamed.

Throwing his helm back, Ratchet pumped his hips into Wreck-gar’s tight and scalding body. He reached for Wreck-gar’s groin, fingers delving into the dripping port as he continued to pound into the junkbot’s exhaust. Wreck-gar arched beneath him and came with a scream of the medbot’s name.

"Ratchet…oh Ratchet! Don’t stop!" Wreck-gar whimpered, clinging to his lover for dear life.

"Oh Wreck-gar…Wreck-gar…I can’t...get…deep enough," Ratchet panted. "I can’t get enough! I love you…love you…love…you!"

Ratchet gasped, thrusting wildly as Wreck-gar clenched down on his hard length, falling limply back onto the berth. The tight heat that rippled around his shaft undid him. Ratchet screamed in pleasure, closed his optics tight and held onto Wreck-gar desperately. He tensed, thrust brutally and with a final cry of the junkbot’s name, he released. It seemed to last forever, twined sparks beating hard until there was a brutal explosion of pleasure that knocked both mechs out.

Ratchet was the first to wake, sluggishly rolling onto his side and closing his chest plates. Wreck-gar stirred a moment later, smiling as he slowly came to.

"Hmm, my mate," Wreck-gar murmured happily. "Want to interface again?"

Ratchet groaned, "You’re going to deactivate me, brat."

Wreck-gar’s expression grew serious. "Make me a promise?" Ratchet nodded. "Don’t go looking for him."

"Wh-what?" Ratchet stammered.

"Please, don’t go looking for Lockdown," Wreck-gar stated. "I…don’t want to risk losing you. Please?"

"Kid," Ratchet grumbled, shaking his helm. "After all…he did." Wreck-gar cupped Ratchet’s cheek, causing the medbot to sigh. "I won’t…search for him. I’ll promise you that much…but if I ever spot him out in the open or if he’s captured…I will deal with him."

Wreck-gar frowned, but nodded. "All right." He twined their servos together, wanting to forget about the bounty hunter. "So, about that second round?"

"Primus, kid, you’re insatiable!" Ratchet laughed. He leered down at the younger mech. "Fine…you asked for it…my pretty mate."

Wreck-gar laughed as Ratchet pounced on him, raining sensual kisses all over his frame. For the first time in weeks, the junkbot was happy and looking forward to spending the rest of his function by the medbot’s side. Ratchet was looking forward to that as well.

End
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