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

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7: Wanting a Lover
It has been a few days –a human week or more- after the battle with Megatron. Well, it was a battle for the rest of the men; it was a sweet release to Sunstreaker. He couldn’t stop thinking of that choking lust filled whimper of his name when Megatron’s port came, Sunny’s seed spilling into him. The thought that the he had overloaded the warlord even while being on the recessive end was so fulfilling it was as if his spark suddenly dropped ten pounds, his very reproductive chamber shivering with pleasure as he was filled with Megatron’s magnificent fluids. He didn’t bother even trying to drain them this time… not that he could, his port was so sore it actually ached and…
Ratchet was watching him like a hawk, seeing if he’d even twitch in agony or break down into a collection of woe. Well, he might want to whimper about his sore port but so far he wasn’t going anywhere near his emotional messes. At least not for a while, and at least Ratchet was better than Prowl or Prime. He just knew they were both dogging for him when he got out of Ratchet’s detention. His audios would never stop ringing… especially Prime. The leader was actually mad (good natured Prime, can you believe that) at Sunstreaker for allegedly, not that anyway really saw him fighting the Con, for taking on Megatron.
“That berth still isn’t clean,” stated Ratchet as he walked by with a digi-pad, not even looking up from the item as he headed over to Ironhide’s berth, interrupting Sunny’s thoughts.
Sunstreaker growled in reply, feeling some of his normal rage rise to the surface as he threw the rag onto the berth and growled at the mech, “It is slaggen clean! I would know! I shine myself every single day so I think I know how to slaggen wax metal! I’ve waxed every fraggen berth in here and surface for the last slaggen week except the ones with bodies on them!”
Ratchet, who had continued to walk over the gun-ho idiot, didn’t even stall as he helped the red mech sit up. He even started looking over the Weapon Specialist’s welding before he even bothered to reply.
“And once those berths are empty you’ll wax them as well. This is your punishment for going onto the battle field when you weren’t cleared to do so, and since I haven’t had time to give you that psyche evaluation due to all the injuries during the battle, you’re staying in here until I clear you,” grumbled the mech enunciating every few words. “Besides, your brother is getting out of the brig today. Since he hasn’t been assigned a babysitter yet, and because you are still under my care, you are stuck in the medical bay.”
The good feeling… was gone.
Sunstreaker had actually managed to wipe away all thoughts of his brother, replacing the slagger’s warm red hands with Megatron’s and brother’s warm spark… with Megatron’s powerful one. He knew it wouldn’t last. He knew even when he was fragging Megs on that hill that the world would come crashing down sooner or later. It just felt much better when he forgot that fact.
“A-are you sure?”
Ratchet stilled suddenly, a worried look coming over his face, and he was about to come over and probably ask if Sunstreaker wanted to talk about it. Sunny straitened his shoulders and pressed away his look of worry with his usually stoic frown.
“W-hat I mean is, that if he’s getting out today, I need to get some stuff out of my… his room,” added the yellow mech quickly and far more confidently. He had left that mess of pumped transfluid on the floor from Megatron. He needed to clean that up and get some things. His wax, his paints, and any proof that he had even been in there.
Ratchet was still frowning but clicked his com link. His optics brightened as he got ahold of undoubtedly Prowl and stated, “Perhaps, Sideswipe won’t be out for a while and you are looking at little… faded. You might want to get some of your paint wax.”
Sunny glared at the medic’s horrible try at humor, a growling coming from his engine.
Coughing off the glare he got from the younger mech at the paint crack, Ratchet turned to look at Ironhide who seemed ready to get up and run if the medic left. Suspiciously eyeing Ironhide, the medic then turned to look at Sunstreaker who was acting… twitchy. Well, he still hadn’t had a report that Sideswipe had gotten out of the brig so he figured Sunstreaker could be allowed to rush to his room and get some supplies. He had been watching him like a hawk for days now. Letting out a grunt through his vents, Ratchet waved him off, stating, “It’s not Sideswipe room anymore, but he will need to get his stuff. You have half an hour to grab whatever you want. If you are not back by then, I will send Prime himself to fetch you.”
Sunstreaker stood there a moment and blinked his optics on and then off, almost not believing his luck. Then, forgetting his sore port, turned rather harshly and was about to start running when he hissed.
The welding behind him stopped almost immediately, and Ratchet looked up, growling, “Was that your leg? I noticed that you have been a little stiff, but I just thought it was the new parts. It should have healed by now.”
Ratchet turned from his patient and gave Sunstreaker the optic as he asked, “Is it just the new parts or are you really in pain?”
Sunstreaker squirmed, his hand reflexively placing itself over his cod piece. In truth, his leg still ached a little from the new parts but not enough to make him limp. His port hurt like slag. Megatron had really made him bleed like a little virgin; that second fragging hurt his insides. He knew at this point he should really ask Ratchet to look at it and sooth away the soreness and possible energon infection… but he found he liked the soreness late at night. Each throb of slight pain that came from the slowly healing hole reminded him of Megatron and his pumping spike inside him. On more than one night, he found himself pumping his hips along with that throb, his mind recalling those times of passion. He knew it was wrong, even sick, to think of Megatron in such a way, but he was reminded daily that no one was there.
No one wanted him. No one but Megatron.
“It’s nothing. The new parts ache a little at night but it doesn’t hurt. I just don’t want to rip it up again so I allowed my knee to go out,” replied Sunstreaker, not knowing what else to say.
Ratchet shifted and looked the mech up and down before nodding his head and waving the mech off, stating, “Well, if it still hurts in a few days, I’m going to look at my work. Damage might have been sustained on the battlefield. Now, get moving… you’re down to twenty-seven minutes.”
Sunstreaker’s optics went wide for a moment and he found himself turning to the door at a jogging pace, minding his port. Maybe while he was in his room, cleaning up that mess, he would take a look at his interfacing equipment and give it a decent cleaning.

…
It was dark in here.
It was as if the night had been forsaken by everything that offered light… even the fireflies. He was forced to stay still in that forever darkness, waiting for the sunlight that may never come. He could not move until then. There were gaping holes all around him waiting to devour him with one false step. He had nearly fallen in already, allowing his spark to be eaten and turned like a Decepticons.
He had nearly raped Sunny.
The red form twitched at the thought in the dark, hand reaching up and placing it on his chassis. He tried not to wince as he felt the scratched paint. He had gone stark raving mad when he had been woke up after being taken away from Sunstreaker. He had thrashed at the mechs, his companions, trying to get back into the medical bay and finish what he started. He was going to make his brother hear him. Sunstreaker was being selfish. He always got Sideswipe’s attention and the moment he wanted to give some of that attention to another, Sunstreaker acted like he was the one that was wronged.
Well…
Yes, the second born comment was harsh… but he did regret it and had tried to apologize. He was even going to show his shame for the comment when they bonded. He was going to reveal and say so many things that words could not. He needed to bond with his brother.
He had just gone the wrong way about doing it.
Sideswipe knew he had to be calm now. He had all but attacked Prime when the big mech had tried to subdue him after he tried to rip Inferno and Ironhide apart. His commander was not the least bit amused, especially when he heard about what Sideswipe had nearly done to his own twin. The leader had been a vents breath away from sending Sideswipe away to the far reaches of space to some unknown base with some no-name Autobots.
Basically a prison sentence.
Sideswipe had been spared though, from a simple confession. While Prime stood over him, outside the bars, demanding the reason for his actions as Ratchet patched up his scrapes and scratches, Sideswipe had broken down into a fit of sobbing. He admitted that he was scared… he couldn’t feel Sunstreaker and went about it in all the wrong way. Twins needed each other to remain alive and unless Prime himself was going to lay down with his brother, they needed to bond to stabilize each other.
Prime had sighed and asked Ratchet it if was true. The medic had snarled, slammed a wrench over Side’s helm, cursed him for being right, and stated in a cold tone, “Twins shouldn’t be separated no matter the circumstances… especially if one of them doesn’t have a partner of some kind… and if the conversation I heard about happening in the rec. room is true...”
Sideswipe was about to thank him for agreeing that Sunstreaker needed him, but Ratchet’s glare was cruel and truthfully unforgiving.
“But forcing it will only heed the bond. Sunstreaker will become reluctant to even bond with anyone and slowly disintegrate until his spark fades,” added Ratchet with a snarl, his voice getting softer. “We should allow Sunstreaker to decide if and when he wants to bond with Sideswipe. It shouldn’t be forced in any form. If it takes too long and his spark starts to suffer… as a medic I can offer services in spark stabilization.”
The red mech had to ball his hands into fists to stop from punching the medic in the face, his mind imagining the medic between his brother’s legs, spiking him and moaning like a bitch. He held his temper though… he’d win back his brother’s spark or at least find him a suitor that he approved of. He loved Ratchet as anyone can love a medic that threatened their life at least twice a week, but his brother was the dominat kind. Sunstreaker needed a nice mate that would allow him to be on top. He would never to the recessive.
And that was the promise, to himself, that allowed him to sit still on that brig’s berth as Prowl read him the regulations he’d have to follow once he was released.
He could not be on patrol with Sunstreaker.
He could no longer bunk with Sunstreaker.
He could not be in the same room with Sunstreaker, alone.
He could not touch Sunstreaker without permission.
Teletron and high ranking officials all knew these rules and would not hesitate to report him and have his aft removed from base and relocated to another one for an undisclosed amount of time.
Sideswipe had agreed with a broken whisper. It hurt, especially the last one, but he had sat there, optics down cast as he nodded to Prowl’s arrangement. The final question, of course, nearly made Sideswipe weep in front of the stoic tactician.
Prowl continued without missing a note, “I’m not the type to listen to idle rumors, but Bluestreaker and you are in a serious relationship, correct?”
Sideswipe nodded.
“Good, then I suppose we can transfer you into Bluestreaker room and Sunstreaker will most likely be allowed to stay in his room… though he will most likely get a roommate due to space constraints. Hound is the likeliest candidate since he will be losing a room. Is that fine?” asked Prowl, looking up from his data pad as he stood in front of the cell, wings high.
A small whine escaped his vocalizer. The near rape, the confession of birth order, and Sunstreaker’s block had all felt surreal up until this point. Until now. Reality was crashing down and it was harsh. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and wish it away… but he still wanted Blue. With a broken spark, he nodded his head. And with a few signatures, Sideswipe found himself standing and being frowned upon by Jazz. The usual light hearted air was not around the jubilant mech.
He was serious.
“You cooled down, Sides?” asked the saboteur, his frown deep. “Only the higher ups know what exactly you tried to do to Sunstreaker. The rest of the base thinks you just attacked your brother and that you are not allowed to be alone with him, got me? Truthfully, I think you deserve more of a punishment, but old Ratchet’s explained that twins can become desperate and distressed if the other isn’t around. So, I’ll have an open mind about this arrangement.”
Sideswipe nodded, and stated softly, “So, when can I talk to Sunstreaker?”
Jazz just frowned, visor going dark for a moment, “Whenever Ratchet gives the okay. For now, let’s go to your old room and get some paint and wax … you look terrible. Then we’ll go pack your stuff and then Hound’s things.”
The saboteur’s touch was light on his arm as he led him away, a ghost of a smile appearing. Sideswipe knew that smile was half false, but at least the Jazz-ster was trying. Maybe in a few weeks everything would be back to normal. Sunstreaker would be by his side again and everyone would stop frowning at him.
He wasn’t a slaggen Decepticon.
…
It took him longer to get to his room that what he would have liked, but his pride was an expensive thing. He had to take back ways that Red Alert barely knew in order to ignore running into anyone unsavory. It was worth it though, not a soul had seen him… unless you counted Red Alert. One of the slagger’s cameras probably caught him.
Placing his hand on the door pad, the room slid open. Sunstreaker frowned. He could barely smell the stale and partially digested energon in the room.
His valve gave a throb at the slight smell of nanite… the smell of sex. Turning on the lights, he decided it was best to start by cleaning. Ratchet did state that the room was no longer Sideswipe’s… but it didn’t feel like his anymore either.
Perhaps it was best to leave this place abandoned, like the past it was.
Shaking off such depressing thoughts, he decided he would worry about all his things later and just get what he needed. Wax was a must, maybe a pad-sketcher and some of his favorite digi-pads.
He also needed to care for his valve, it was starting to really hurt. Ratchet had even given notice.
…
Sideswipe held Bluestreak’s hand loosely in his as they both walked down the hall. Blue was uncharacteristically silent, but the young mech was upset. He hadn’t been able to visit his lover since the red mech had been placed into the brig. Side’s hadn’t told him about all that had transpired, but he supposed he would have too soon… not that the youth didn’t know enough already as it was.
“I heard,” stated Blue in a strangely sullen tone. “That you attacked Sunstreaker in the medical bay… Prowl and the other higher officers were really angry about it, especially Ratchet. You and Sunny fight all the time… what did you do?”
There was blame in that tone and guilt. Blue hadn’t wanted anything to happen like this… not over their relationship. He wanted Sunny to be happy as well. He just wanted everyone to have a little love because one never knew how long they had during war.
“Nothing I can’t fix,” replied Sideswipe, full of determination as he looked ahead.
Bluestreak was silent, his frown unfailing, “And how are you going to do that?”
Jazz’s visor flickered as he glanced over his shoulder at the two love birds, his spark throbbing as he heard the eldest twin state, “I don’t know yet.”
…
The mess was cleaned up and a few of his choice items packed away into his subspace. Sunny was looking at his last chore before heading back his prison cell of a medical bay. This was going to slaggen hurt. He hoped it wasn’t too bad.
Placing his cleaning and med kit on his berth, Sunstreaker grunted at the soreness and leapt onto his berth, wincing. His aching port was bothersome. Regardless… just as well as get this done.
First thing, he noticed when he opened his cod piece was that he was bleeding, again! Primus, no amount of lube or licking would have made him not bleed, but still it had been over a week … though Megatron’s size was impressive. Never could he have imagined a mech that would fill him so … completely. And the way Megatron trusted: it was so experienced. And then there were his growling moans as the pace picked up. Oh, how Sunsteaker wished he had been a little larger so he could have thrusted into lover the way Megatron did into him.
Primus… and Megatron’s port was so wonderfully tight like it was barely used. He wished he could have been the dominant partner so he could have pushed himself into the other all the way up to his hilt and feel the port crush his cone into overloaded oblivion.
Finally noticing that this reminiscing was making his port lube up and spike rise, Sunstreaker decided that since he had to clean down there anyway, he just as well’s get some pleasure out of it. He knew he should be heading back to the harpie but satisfying himself wouldn’t take too long.
True, masturbating wasn’t something he had ever really bothered with since his brother always knew when he was horny and either they would combine their sparks or find some unknowing victim. But, his brother wasn’t here anymore. All he had was himself … and memories of Megatron.
Offlining his optics and lying on his berth, spreading his legs like he had when he had been with the grey lover, Sunstreaker lowered his spike and dipped his hand into his abused port. He cringed at first but kept telling himself that it was Megatron’s spike and soon he found his hips thrusting upward as he started to move his finger in and out. Then, still feeling empty, the mech started to drop fingers into his gapping, wet, hole until nearly all five fingers were fighting to get into his port. Whimpers and gasps were now escaping him as he thrusted upwards into what he believed to be Megatron’s cone.
Soon, his spark was starting to thrash in its casing. It still felt a little odd, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was sore from the treatment in the desert. Not that it mattered, soon he was going to fall into overload bliss and nothing would ache, not even his memories of his brother. Just a little faster, just a little …
“Uh… are we interrupting something?”
Overload was taken from him as well as the ghostly feeling of Megatron’s lips on his. The yellow worrier flew up, his optics wide and surprised as he stared over the edge of his berth. There in the doorway, two pairs of blue optics and a visor shimmered in gloom. Jazz had been the one to speak and was now struggling to hide his Chesimire cat grin.
Slowly, Sideswipe came forward, trying not to get too close because he wasn’t even supposed to be near his brother, Sunstreaker wasn’t even supposed to be in here, but Jazz had allowed him to grab a few things out of the kindness of his spark. He had thought they would merely sneak in and grab some things. That thought was quickly abolished when the door had opened and they all had heard whimpering pains quickly followed by soft groans. He couldn’t stop himself from stepping in regardless of Jazz’s sudden stiffness, part of him wondering if maybe his brother was finally not alone on his berth and had found his own bed companion.
Maybe everything was okay now.
Yet, his mild hope was dashed. It seemed nothing could yet return to normal. In fact, this wasn’t normal when he took in the whole scene. Sunstreaker was actually masturbating and quite wantonly since he had almost all his hand in there and his spike completely sheathed as well. Primus, who was he imagining as a partner?
Somehow finding himself standing over his brother despite Jazz warning, Sideswipe tried to banish any angry feels he had towards his brother and put on a mask, mustering false amusement so it would feel like old times and nothing had changed.
A false Chesimire grin quickly struggled to consume Sideswipe’s face as he walked a little closer towards his brother’s legs to peak in between, not once touching his brother as he watched Jazz watching him out of the corner of his optic. There was coolant everywhere, and he could actually physically see the port still pressing against his brother’s fingers, willing for continuation. The twin couldn’t help but whistled, “Blimy, who the hell you imagining there Sunstreaker? Almost half of your hand is in your port. Primus, I didn’t even know you could stretch the far, but with all that lube I’d want to fuck my fingers too.”
Sunstreaker growled, wondering briefly how his brother had gotten in here but had a feeling it had something to do with the babysister, Jazz. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, promising he would continue once his brother was gone, and growled, “At least I’m not fucking a sparkling.”
Sideswipe frowned, part of him feeling the rage he had felt in the rec room weeks ago rise once more in his chest and slam through their bond that Sunstreaker had blocked off for the most part. At least with his brother in such a hyped stated he couldn’t block everything and there was this feeling of hurt and passion just barely bleeding through. In fact, now that he was standing next to his brother for the first time in weeks, he also noticed something was off physically and not just emotionally, his brother’s spark reaching out.
The first thing that came to mind was that his brother’s spark was in need of a bonding to help it return to a equilibrium. He had Bluestreak; his brother had no one… that he knew of. Well, Bluestreak and he had discussed this already before the fight, and the youth saw nothing wrong with bonding with his brother.
Too bad he was no longer allowed the right to do such. At least not until Sunny came to him.
“It wasn’t an insult, Sunstreaker, and please don’t ever talk about Bluestreak that way. He is well of age,” stated Sideswipe as he pushing down any feelings for anger. Getting angry wouldn’t fix anything, and Blue’s feelings… weren’t as damaged as Sunny’s right now.
“You can lie back… if you want. I-I could finish you off,” whispered the older sibling, making sure to ask properly. “I-if you want me to?”
Sunstreaker glared at his other half and stated calmly, “Get out, Sideswipe. Just take whatever you wanted and let me be.”
Sideswipe frowned and almost desperately begged, “Just let me finish you off Sunstreaker, and then we can bond. I’m sure that this whole fit will seem little more …”
“Fit! It’s not a fit! You betrayed me! Stop acting like the victim,“ yelled Sunny as he rose from his berth, slammed his hands against his brother’s chassis, making the red sibling slam into the wall.
Sideswipe made no move to defend himself as Sunny pressed his whole body against his brother and into the wall, a hand around his neck as he ignored Jazz’s pleas to stop this. Sideswipe could care less… at least Sunny was touching him he supposed. It also meant that Jazz would be unlikely to interrupt. He had heard Ratchet speaking with the other high officers. He knew he wasn’t allowed to force himself on Sunny and that if any interfacing or bonding occurred, Sunstreaker had to initiate it.
And Sunny liked it hard…
“Then why does it hurt so much! Do you think that you are the only one who feels betrayed! I wanted to love someone else other than you but that does not mean I do not love you!” Sideswipe cried, his optics shivering as his vocals started to whine. His hands were almost desperate as he reached for his brother, fingers shivering as he touched his brother’s chest and hip.
“Please, let me touch you. Let me show you. It has been weeks since you bonded… please, you’re already wet,” begged Sideswipe as he slowly slid a hand up over to his brother’s neck to cup his chin and gently finger behind his ear fin.
With the sensual touch, Sunstreaker’s valve gave a hungry throb and his spark suddenly seemed to ignite with need. Slag, was he really that desperate for a bond? Was his spark so unstable? True, he hadn’t bonded with anyone since his first time with Megatron but even with just valve interfacing, there would be some residual spark energy that would jump onto the partner. He didn’t know the next time he would see Megatron and… and… slag his spark hurt.
Jazz’s optic band brightened for a moment as he watched not Sideswipe take the initiative but Sunstreaker, the yellow mech roughly slamming his brother against the wall and then pressed a rather violent kiss onto his brother, rubbing his groin against his brother’s cod piece.
Jazz chocked at the scene. Trying not to blush, the sport’s car turned to look at a presently blushing sniper and grabbed the youth by the hand, walking out of the room and telling the youth, “It’s natural for twins, Blue. Just… wait out here.”
Jazz went back to the door, peaking in as he watched Sideswipe started to touch his brother back.. This was going somewhere fast.
Comm. link buzzing to life, Jazz thought it best to talk to the medic first before he rain down any higher command’s fury, ‘Ratchet! Ratchet! Come in. It’s Jazz.’
‘Are you maimed or bleeding? I have other things to do… like finding Sunstreaker. Slagger should have been back minutes ago,’ growled the medic over the comm.
‘Well, I solved that problem then. He’s still in his room… with Sideswipe… and things are getting heavy if you know what I mean,’ added Jazz, lip twitching as he watched Sunny reach a hand down and start to paw at brother’s cod piece.
Man, Sunny was desperate.
‘What! Separate them! Are you just standing there!’ yelled the medic as he suddenly turned heel, sliding and nearly falling on his face as he made for the twin’s old room.
‘Well, maybe if Sides was the one who started it, but he’d be in the brig already if that was the deal. Let’s just say Sunstreaker looks like he is the one that’s about to rape Sides and you can’t rape the willin’,’ added Jazz as he watched Sunny deepen the kiss, Side’s moaning as their glossa started to intertwine.
The medic stalled in the hall in surprise. He hadn’t thought it had been that long for Sunstreaker but maybe it had. His running pace turning into a walking one, and he continued, ‘So, Sunny is the one initiating this?’
‘Well, yeah. This isn’t going to last much longer. Side’s is heading for the treasure trove if you get me? Should I separate them or…’
‘No… let them be though watch them. If Sunstreaker starts say no, separate them otherwise enjoy the show. I think Sunstreaker’s spark needs to be stabilized and that’s why he’s so forward. You are to send Sunstreaker back to the medical bay when they are done though. I have a feeling emotions are still sour and this is being down out of desperation,’ added the medic as he started for his ward.
“I always knew you supported voyeurism, you old pervert. Jazz out,’ stated the saboteur as he turned off the com, peaking into the door only to see that Sideswipe had somehow gotten his brother back on the berth, the yellow twin whimpering below him. Jazz merely waved Blue off to get some after-sex energon and closed the door, taking a seat in the corner to watch.
‘Do you really have to watch?’ asked Sideswipe over the comm. link to Jazz as he started to slide his fingers under armor plating, Sunny bucking up. There was no need for foreplay but Sunstreaker had yet to open his chassis and reveal his spark. Interfacing was fun on its lonesome, but they really needed to bond. Maybe he had to getting a little farther.
Pushing his sibling down against the berth and pinning him, Sunstreaker just stared up at him in lust, his optic nearly offlining as he felt a pair of unpredictable and familiar fingers make their way down to his port. Primus, they certainly knew their way around, making a loop at the opening of his port and slowly easing Sunstreaker’s cone upward in a dominate position with taunting little circles at the rim so they could enter each other.
For a moment, Sunstreaker felt himself completely giving in, circuits buzz with a lazy bliss and part of him wondering if he should open his chassis.
Yet, at the same time when Sideswipe started to thrust his fingers, feeling his own port start to lube at the feel of his brother’s fluids, he noticed the fluids seemed thin. Regardless, Sunny was ready.
Eyeing his brother, he asked, “Can I enter you?”
Panting, Sunstreaker reached up and cupped his brother’s chin and then kissed his twins chin, purring, “I don’t mind having my spike down.”
Sideswipe was a bit surprised, Sunstreaker had rarely asked to be on the bottom, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Kiss far more passionately, he reached down and turned the spike and port so he could be the dominate partner. He slowly eased down into his brother, noticing something was wrong even before his brother hissed in pain. The passion gone as pain flickered across his twin’s features.
Sideswipe found himself pulling out and asking, “What’s wrong? I wasn’t rough.”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” whispered Sunny. Slag, his fingers hadn’t gone in as far as his brother’s spoke had. He was really ripped up, wasn’t he?
Sideswipe paid his brother no mind and quickly slid down on his brother’s legs a little and turned on his headlights so he could see a little better in the gloom of the room. It was then that he noticed that his brother’s port was leaking more than coolant-lube and that Sunstreaker’s port looked raw. Primus, that was bad. If it were him he’d be in with Ratchet, begging for something if his port had been ripped up like that.
“Y-your bleeding? Why haven’t you gone to Ratchet, this is bad Sunny,” replied Sideswipe, barely noting that Jazz had gotten to his feet and now had the same expression of horror.
“You are not my babysitter! Its none of your business. Get off!” growled Sunny as he looked at Jazz’s expression of horror.
Sides did not get off his brother, instead his voice squeak in horror as he asked the first thing that came to mind, “Did you do this to yourself? Why did you do this? I’m helping you to the medical bay. Now where is your cod piece?”
“Get off! You’re not taking me anywhere. I’m no longer your responsibility,” growled Sunstreaker, rage rising to the surface as the lust disappeared.
When the elder sibling didn’t do as asked, he shoved his brother rather violently, Sideswipe giving a choked scream as he fell off his brother’s legs and onto the floor.
Jazz was quick to help the downed sibling and would have reprimand Sunstreaker, but the young mech was already off the berth and wincing. He was heading towards the door, slipping on his cod piece without a rag, energon and valve coolant dripping down his leg. He’d go to the showers and…
Slag.
The door hadn’t even slipped open completely when he notice who was standing there.
Ratchet …
… Who was now speaking with Bluestreak, undoubtedly about twin bonds. The medic stalled long enough to look the yellow mech up and down, before his optics blinked.
It was a comm. link, no doubt from Jazz, who was now stepping behind him. The healer’s optics turned towards Sunstreaker’s cod piece and his tone was surprisingly worried, “Sunstreaker… is that energon?”
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Sunny Disposition