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Heat Seeker	By : swordqueen Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 3858 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hasbro or Transformers, nor do I make any money doing this.

Chapter List
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3.
The next daycycle:
He was told he’d have to face Prowl for pulling a weapon, but first, for some reason, they’d brought him to repair bay again. A different medic, Ratchet, this time, who hadn’t said a word as he examined Skywarp, somehow ignoring the raging spike, and cleaning the absolute mess from his valve and thighs, managing to ignore Skywarp’s wild cries. Just the walk over had gotten Skywarp worked up again; the air against his valve was enough to drive him crazy. But then the medic had pulled out a small nozzled high-pressure hose to clean his valve…and as far as Skywarp was concerned, torture commenced. He whined, writhing on the berth, trying to get the waterline at just the right angle…to…. The medic stopped, and wiped the area with a towel, sending Skywarp into an enraged frenzy.

The medic relented, lubing up his fingers. “This how you want it?”

Skywarp swallowed a nasty response. At least the medic was offering. “Yeah.” He felt his body arch into the medic’s fingers. Autobot medics must have special instruction on getting a mech off manually, which was a weird thing to think about, Skywarp decided, as his hips rose and fell in time to Ratchet’s thrusts. He gritted his dental plates, grunting and moaning, his spike releasing more lubricant that the medic casually wiped away with a cleaning towel, until he cried out in overload as the medic’s fingers wiggled against the recessed node.

“Enough?”

“Again.”

“Already?”

“Yes, frag it, already. Just do it!” He wriggled his hips around the medic’s hand. Ratchet obediently began thrusting again with his fingers.

“Must be hard to live with.”

“Only when I’m surrounded by stupid prudish Autobots,” he snarled, but closed his eyes as another wave of pleasure rose up from his valve. “You are good at this,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” Ratchet said, mildly. “Harder? Softer?”

“This is…this is ooooohhhhhh,” and the time for talking about it was over. Skywarp gave himself over to the rising crest of electric sensations, his body twisting sinuously on the berth. He overloaded again, moments later, with a sudden shudder.

“Normally this quick to get off?” The medic said it like it was a bad thing.

“Heat. You never really wind down completely.”

“Well, that’s all I can do for you: Manual says no more than two every cycle.”

If he’d read the other medic’s fraggin’ report, he’d know how wrong that was. Though maybe the other medic edited out his own participation. “Manual’s wrong! Come on.” Skywarp tilted his hips invitingly at the medic. “Do it so you can enjoy it, too.”

“Sorry. Manual says.” He wiped off his hand, coated in lubricant and Skywarp’s bluish fluid, with a definitive gesture. “That should help, though.”

It did help, a little. Not enough though. Still, he knew better than to argue. He levered himself off the table to where his guard—Ironhide—stood waiting. “Let’s go,” Ironhide said, gruffly.

Skywarp went with Ironhide, acutely aware that his bare spike and valve were exposed for all to see. Got more than a few curious looks from passing bots. Primus he wanted to take each one of them.

Ironhide took his arm and led him off the path back to his new cell into a small closet. Skywarp turned as he saw the blank wall, and Ironhide thrust him back against the wall with one hand, his other already opening the catches of his codpiece. When the bot thrust into him, Skywarp felt the mass of lubricant on Ironhide’s spike—of course. He’d been watching Ratchet get the Seeker off. Must have turned him on.

“Told you,” Ironhide growled in his ear, “Any time I want.” He started thrusting with that same hard rhythm as before.

“Yeah,” Skywarp managed spreading his thighs a little wider so that Ironhide’s thrusts could go deeper. He hated this Autobot, but at least he didn’t play around. And his spike rhythm was so good. Exactly what Skywarp needed. Ironhide braced him against the wall by two rough hands squeezing his sensitive wings to almost the point of pain, tilting the Seeker’s hips forward. Skywarp’s hands reached for him.

“Do NOT fraggin’ touch me,” Ironhide growled. “You don’t deserve to.” To punish him, one hand came down and gave a vicious tug at the Seeker’s erect spike. Skywarp squealed, his valve tightening in panic. Ironhide grunted at the tightness. “Like you like that. A little afraid.” His rhythm picked up a bit, sending Skywarp into another overload. The Autobot kept up his pounding. “Later, when you’re no longer under medic’s care, I’m gonna make you suck my spike again, Seeker. How you feel about that? You going to suck my spike? Like before?”

“I---oh! Ohhhh!” was all the Seeker could manage. Ironhide jerked himself back. Skywarp whined.

“Say it. Say it, Seeker. Say you’ll suck my spike. Tell me how bad you want to.”

Skywarp froze, but his valve was driving him crazy again. He squirmed against the Autobot. Ironhide began thrusting in, but in shallow tormenting strokes. “Yes. I’ll do it. I want to.” The strokes grew a bit deeper. “I want it. I want to suck your spike, oh Primus please just fuck me!”

“Oughta make you do it right now, only frraaaaag your valve feels so good on me. You know how good you feel, Seeker? You like that you’re getting an Autobot off?”

Skywarp had no idea what the right answer to that was, and his sensor net was spiralling him toward another overload, so he just moaned.

“You like that I hate your fraggin’ guts but I’m the only one who can give it the way you need?”

Skywarp cried out into another overload, his knee servos trembling.

Ironhide withdrew, pushing him to the floor and bending him over. “My way again, Seeker. My turn to get off.” He drove himself into the Seeker’s upraised hips, pinning Skywarp’s shoulders to the ground. “Mine,” he snarled. “My little fucking Seeker. Gonna suck me, you know you will. In front of as many witnesses as I can find. Think I can find anyone wanting to watch you swallow my spike?” Skywarp heard himself crying out in ecstasy as Ironhide overloaded into him. He hated this bot but his valve was just in a continual overload when Ironhide was in him.

A sudden wash of light. Skywarp blinked.

“Ironhide,” a cool voice said. “We will discuss this later.”

Ironhide yanked himself out of Skywarp with a jerk that was painful enough to make the Seeker gasp. “Just doing what his condition requires.”

“I do not think his condition requires verbal abuse, Ironhide.”

“I don’t hear him complaining,” Ironhide said, sourly, blading lubricant off his spike and flicking it off his fingers onto the Seeker before tucking his spike away.

“Later,” Prowl repeated, dismissing the Autobot with a gesture. He bent down by Skywarp, extending a hand. “Get up.”

Skywarp struggled to his feet, without taking Prowl’s offered hands. He hated this Autobot: hated how his prudishness just shot judgment all over him. The mess Ironhide had flicked off his spike lay globby on left wing. He tried to brush it off, his hands covered in the mess.

“Follow me,” Prowl said, walking carefully in front of Skywarp, shooting some glare that sent the eyes of passersby anywhere but on Skywarp, limping behind him. He directed Skywarp into an office and closed the door, reaching in a locker for some cleaning equipment which he tossed at the Decepticon. “Clean yourself up.” Skywarp muttered, but used the spray bottle and rags to clean his spike, his valve, his thighs, his wing. He looked up: Prowl was watching him with an unreadable expression.

“I regret that my soldiers have been abusing you.”

“They haven’t.”

“Skywarp,” Prowl frowned. He reached in a drawer and laid a screwdriver on the desk. “Want to tell me about this?”

“Apparently a weapon.”

“How’d you get it?”

A long moment. “Yeah, they gave it to me.”

“They: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?” Skywarp nodded. “And why did they give it to you?”

Skywarp studied Prowl, trying to gauge if he was getting off on this. His composure was riling the Seeker’s notorious temper. “So they could watch me fuck myself with it,” he said, carefully enunciating each word.

Prowl frowned again. “I am sorry. I thought they could be trusted.” He sighed. “What are we going to do with you?” From any other bot it might have sounded friendly, teasing, indulgent. This just made him sound like a hassle.

“Look, I’m fraggin’ sorry that my fraggin’ libido is a bit much for you pathetic Autobots right now,” he snarled. “Don’t think it’s any fun for me to have to go through all of this, and have all your prudish judgment on it as well like it’s a shameful thing. Just let me go and I’ll find my Trine and we’ll all fuck ourselves silly. Problem solved.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Skywarp.” He moved some objects off the desk. “Get on the desk.”

“What?” His valve was already tightening with the prospect. Not just of more spike, but the uptight Prowl’s no less. He was sure he’d be disappointed. But still.

“On the desk. If I can’t trust my men to take care of you without abusing the privilege,” Skywarp bridled—is that what he was? A ‘privilege’? “I’ll have to do it myself. With the medics.”

“Bluestreak.”

“Huh?”

“Bluestreak was good. Didn’t mess around. Didn’t say a word.” Maybe it was because the Autobot had been the first spike he’d had this heat, but he remembered the bot being good. Definitely worth another shot.

“I’ll remember that. Now. ON the desk.” Skywarp raised an eyebrow, but moved to the desk.

“Lay back?”

“If you want.”

Skywarp settled himself on his elbows, looking over his cockpit as Prowl unlatched his codpiece, stroking his erect spike. Skywarp shuddered in anticipation. He tilted his head back, his eyes closing, waiting for the spike to penetrate his valve. He heard a latching click, and looked up. Prowl had relatched his codpiece, smearing his lubricant on his fingers. He hesitated, running his fingers around the rim of the valve. Skywarp whimpered. “You’re not going to…?”

“I do not abuse prisoners,” Prowl said, flatly. “You’re going to have to guide me.”

Well, that figured. “In for a start. All the way.” He made a soft noise in his throat. “Feel the node at the top? Little buttony thi—yeah, that!” He jumped as Prowl’s fingers tweaked the node. “You can just…that!...or….you know, like….oh!...push in and…..” He groaned, dropping back against the surface, acutely aware of Prowl’s dispassionate face looking down at him. What the hell was the Autobot thinking? This wasn’t turning him on at all? Skywarp made it a goal: he was going to get the Autobot’s spike in him if it was the last thing he did.

He reached for Prowl’s other hand. At first the Autobot twitched his wrist away. “Not trying to attack you, Autobot. This will help,” he lied, taking the Autobot’s hand to his mouth, teasing his own lips with the fingertips, sucking one into his mouth. Prowl hissed, his whole body tensing. Well, that was making progress, Skywarp decided. And if he’d learned one thing going through heat in a Trine, it was how to get someone off in a variety of creative ways. He slid his glossa between two fingers to the sensitive joining of the servos. Prowl quivered, the rhythm of his other hand slowing down. Skywarp squirmed his hips. Prowl shook his head, a glaze leaving his eyes, and began working his hand into the valve again. Skywarp moaned, only half for show.

“Come on,” he whispered, looking coyly at Prowl, still sucking idly on his fingers. “You can do it. I want you to.” He rocked his head back as Prowl’s hand picked up pace. Reflecting his desire? Prowl’s eyes were a blank mask. Could be thinking anything behind those optics. Certainly didn’t look lustful. “Come on, Prowl. I want it. Please?” Prowl shifted his hand, twisting so that his fingers hit the node dead on with every thrust. “Prowl! Come! Please!” Then Skywarp couldn’t even make a sentence any more, just a random collection of syllables. He rocked forward and then back suddenly, spasming into an overload.

He lay sprawled on the desk, trembling, his fluid dripping audibly on the floor. Prowl looked down at ths bluish fluid. “I forgot about that,” he said, blandly.

“What, you never fucked before?”

“Did the medic see this?”

“Yes, of course. What?” Skywarp sat up. Nope, everything looked normal down there. Well, for this time of the megacycle.

“Nothing, then, I guess.” Prowl retracted his hand. Skywarp whined.

“Just one?”

“No.” He heard Prowl rattling in a compartment and come back with a bunch of towels and some plastic sheeting.

“If you’re inclined to be so…messy,” he said, guiding the Seeker to raise his hips, after carefully wiping the fluid from the desk. Oh, probably his desk. Probably didn’t want to think about fingering a horny Seeker every time he sat here. Though whyever not, Skywarp couldn’t imagine.

“This mean you’ll do it again, right? Look, your arm will get tired,” Skywarp reached for the codpiece. “I’m just saying.”

“Is there something wrong with my technique?”

You mean other than the staring at me like I’m a freak part? Instead, he shrugged. “No sense you don’t get to enjoy it, too.” His fingers grabbed for Prowl’s spike and he felt a hard, painful poke in a sensitive join in his wrist. He whimpered. “I just want….”

“Decepticon. I will assist you with your condition. Manually. But I do not lower myself to have my spike used as a medical aid.” He pushed Skywarp back, roughly, and before the Seeker could move, reinserted his hand in the valve. “I do not understand how this condition developed, however.” He began moving in agonizingly slow circular thrusts.

Skywarp shivered. “Started in our programming as a bonding thing. Keep Trines together. Even if they were coming apart personality wise, heat drives them back together. And…you learn to work the other stuff out.” Oh the rough sex he had seen—and done—in the name of ‘working things out’.

“It seems excessive.”

“Binaries have a lower threshold. We were…originally a quaterne so ours is higher than most Trines. Ohhhh, Primus yes, like that.” He rolled his eyes closed, concentrating on the slightly faster circles Prowl was making with his fingers around and over the node. He moaned, laying absolutely still, afraid any motion at all would alter the impossible sensations in his valve. He held himself so still he went rigid until another overload tore him into a thrashing fit. Prowl stepped easily to one side, avoiding the flood of his fluid.

“Come on, Prowl,” Skywarp moaned. He could see the other mech was aroused. He watched Prowl reach to his spike for more lubricant. Oh he just wanted that spike. “Using your lubricant’s okay, but not your spike, Autobot? Explain that one to me.”

“Merely convenient.”

“Oh, you’re not getting off on fingering me with your own lube.”

“Your vulgarity is unnecessary.”

“Oh no, I think it’s entirely necessary. And if you were merely looking for convenience, seems I have my own spike you could have used for lube.” It was kind of obvious, splitting the air between them.

“I am abiding by medical orders.”

“Frag medical orders. You want me, I….Primus knows I want you…what’s the fraggin’ problem?”

“You don’t know what you want in this condition.”

“Like you’d know anything about it?” Skywarp raged, sitting up.

Prowl held up the screwdriver. “You normally consent to this?”

“Prowl, one time, in heat, I consented to a fire suppression hose. That’s nothing.” He closed his eyes as a delicious shiver of memory ran through him. He’d forgotten what lesson they’d been trying to teach him. But he remembered the hose. Rather fondly.

“That’s precisely my point.”

“So…you don’t want me?”

“Skywarp,” Prowl admonished.

“I don’t appeal to you at all?”

Prowl frowned. “You are…not unattractive. And if the situation were..different….”

“The situation’s plenty different. I’m not a prisoner: I have a condition, right? Come on!” He reached for Prowl’s codpiece. Prowl didn’t shy away, only quivering as Skywarp’s hands closed over his spike. To be extra-convincing, Skywarp gave a few long slow pulls on the spike, before leading Prowl between his legs. “Come on,” he whispered. Prowl’s eyes were glued to his valve. In something like a trance he pushed forward, his spike hovering around the entrance. Skywarp sucked in an anticipatory breath.

“I can’t.” Prowl stepped away, latching his spike away firmly. “Not this way.”

Skywar gnashed his denta. “Come ON! I need it!”

Prowl’s face was unreadable for a moment, but then drove his fingers up into the Seeker’s valve, hard and fast. Almost to Ironhide’s rhythm. Skywarp gasped, flopping back against the table. “This is what you wanted, right, Skywarp?” Prowl said, ramming his fingers against the node. “This is precisely my point. You don’t want me. You want anything that will do THIS to you.” He pinched the node. Skywarp yelped, bucking off the table. Prowl continued his harsh thrusts, eyes ablaze as Skywarp thrashed into an overload, his fingertips continuing to prod the recessed node. Skywarp shrieked, his body twisting around, not knowing if the stimulation was too much or he wanted more.

Prowl withdrew his hand, suddenly. “A break?”

“Wrist hurting? You can always…”

“I told you I’m not going to do that.”

Skywarp bit down on a cry of frustration.

“Bluestreak, you said?”

Skywarp looked up, then nodded. “Just did it and left.”

“Would you consent to being supervised? With me watching? To make sure he didn’t go too far?”

Skywarp squirmed. “Autobot, if I fucked myself with a screwdriver in front of those two car wrecks you call guards, where the FUCK do you think I have any modesty left?”

“It was just a question.”

“Conceding defeat?”

“I simply admit that your current requirements are outside my capabilities.”

“You want to watch?” he leered.

“I will consent to watch. If Bluestreak agrees.”

“Oh, I think he will.” The mech hadn’t said much, but just the fact he showed up twice and told his friends said enough of his opinion of the experience. And someone who could appreciate a good Seeker fuck? He deserved more.

“How many more?”

Skywarp thought. “Sixty-three.”

Prowl sighed. “Bluestreak and…who else?” Probably calculating that he’d wear Bluestreak out.

“That first medic. Did good, even acted like he cared.”

“First Aid?”

“That his name? I think I broke his finger.”

Prowl raised a curious eyebrow. “Really? He said it was an accident.”

“It was! I owe him an apology, though.” He squirmed, remembering that first overload at the medic’s hands. Three days into heat—he’d been raving. Not that he was a picture of reason right now. Maybe Prowl was right: in a few weeks he might be disgusted he’d done any of this. “Ironhide,” he added.

“No. Ironhide will be punished for his mistreatment of you. He will not be even allowed the temptation.”

“Don’t want him to fuck me,” Skywarp said. “I want him to watch, too.”
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Heat Seeker