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From Good to Bad to Great	By : geminigirl83 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 2712 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
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Title: From Good to Bad to Great
Pairing: Ratchet/Wreck-gar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP, oral, slash, sticky
Summary: (1/3) Ratchet discovers that Wreck-gar has some redeeming qualities(wink), but they’re going to get a rude interruption.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

When Wreck-gar had fallen into the river and all Ratchet could manage to pull out were bits of trash, he thought the young mech was gone forever. So, it came as quite a surprise to Ratchet, one day visiting the river, when Wreck-gar, coated in mud and grinning goofily, emerged from the water. The trip back to the base with the junkbot had been annoying. He was still chatty as ever, and the stench he emitted was a horrendous assault on the medbot’s olfactory sensors. It would take a lot of yelling on Ratchet’s part, and coaxing from his teammates, to convince Wreck-gar to bathe. It was even harder to encourage the junkbot to get rid of the garbage he was carrying. The packrat was eventually bribed with a promise that Ratchet would teach him about Cybertronian culture, much to the medbot’s distaste.

Months had passed since then, and Ratchet had grown accustomed to Wreck-gar’s ‘unique’ attitude, although it would still agitate him that the younger mech would follow him around wherever he went. He would often have to hide just to get some alone time, often driving out into the middle of the woods in hopes of losing his pursuer, but he could never stay hidden for long.

“Ratchet!”

The medbot’s growled, “Primus, how does he always find me?!”

“Ratchet!” Wreck-gar called out, transforming out of alt-mode when he spotted the medbot. “Oh, there you are. I thought I lost you a few miles back. I kept yelling for you to slow down, but you mustn’t of heard me. This is a nice place. Why did you come all the way out here?”

Ratchet’s left optic twitched, and he answered, “To try and get some peace and quiet. Why don’t you go back to the base and leave me alone?”

“Leave you…all alone out here?” Wreck-gar asked, brow furrowing in thought. “No, that wouldn’t be a nice thing to do.” Ratchet ground his dentals. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to have a personal talk with you, and I don’t want the others around to overhear….it’s kind of private. There’s something….I want to experience.”

That peaked Ratchet’s interest. “And that would be?”

“Interfacing,” Wreck-gar replied, grinning wide.

Ratchet’s face heated, and he stuttered, “Interfacing?! How did you learn about that?!”

“I read about it in one of the data pads in your office,” Wreck-gar replied. “It sounded so nice and the more I read about it….the more I thought about you.” He stepped forward, making the medbot back up until his back was against a tree. “Interface with me?”

“Kid, there’s got to be someone else you’d rather have,” Ratchet stammered as the younger mech pressed his frame against his.

Wreck-gar frowned, “I don’t want anyone else!” He pressed his lips on Ratchet’s, causing the older mech to gasp and tense in shock, jerking his head away. “What’s wrong? Am I…ugly to you?”

Despite being a mix-matched junkbot, Ratchet found that Wreck-gar was easy on the optics. The flies that once buzzed endlessly around the younger mech were gone, and his dull paintjob had been refinished, as well as waxed, to a beautiful gleam.

Wreck-gar became crestfallen at Ratchet’s silence and started to back away from the medbot. “I see…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m sor--”

Ratchet wrapped his arms around the younger mech’s waist, pulling him closer as he murmured, “Are you really certain that you want this….want me? I’m a lot older than you, kid…not to mention ornery, or so I’m told.”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Wreck-gar beamed, nuzzling Ratchet’s neck.

Guiding their lips together for a soft kiss, Ratchet relished in the sensation of Wreck-gar’s servo roaming endlessly over his body, caressing and exploring. Wreck-gar let out an appreciative and pleasured moan as Ratchet cupped his aft, squeezing and rubbing. Both mechs shuddered in bliss, lips parting and glossa dancing sweetly over one another as they lazily explored each other’s mouths.

Wreck-gar reluctantly pulled away from Ratchet’s lips, tracing his fingers over the older mech’s pelvic armor, enjoying how medbot shivered at his touch. “I want to try something…if you’ll let me. Open up, please?”

“All right, kid,” Ratchet panted, groin plating sliding back, optics widening as Wreck-gar kneeled in front of him. “What--ah! Slag!”

The medbot nearly overloading when Wreck-gar’s fingers skimmed over the leaking tip of his exposed shaft.

“Oh, you’re big,” Wreck-gar giggled.

A hoarse shout ripped through Ratchet’s vocalizer as the younger mech’s glossa slid along his length, lips pressing a soft kiss on the sensitive tip. Ratchet’s panted hard as Wreck-gar’s warm mouth enveloped him, head bobbing up and down at a slow and teasing pace. The medbot hadn’t enjoyed another’s touch since the war, and the sudden onslaught of blissful sensations shooting through his sensors was bringing him close to climax. He almost came undone when he gazed down, seeing Wreck-gar lap at his plug, grinning innocently up at him, optics glazed with lust. Reluctantly, Ratchet pulled away.

“Did I do something wrong?” Wreck-gar asked, confused by the medbot’s sudden withdrawal.

“No…what you were doing…was wonderful,” Ratchet huffed, “but I’m too close to overloading…and I doubt my recovery…will be as quick as it used to be.” Leering mischievously, Ratchet pushed on the younger mech’s shoulders until he was laid out on the ground. “Besides, I think it’s my turn to play.”

Wreck-gar moaned as Ratchet nipped and sucked on his neck. Moving in an unhurried pace, the medbot trailed kisses over the younger mech’s cheeks, shoulders, and chassis as he slowly descended to the bot’s groin. The plating retraced, and Ratchet gasped in surprise.

“Hm, what did you stop for?” Wreck-gar asked, looking down, frowning at what he saw. “Oh, I’m different than you.” His bottom lip trembled. “Am I a freak?”

“Don’t call yourself that!” Ratchet snarled. “You’re an input model instead of an uplink.” His brow furrowed. “Wait, you never looked under your armor?”

The younger mech blushed and replied, “No. Do you still want me?”

Ratchet answered by swiping his glossa over the port, causing Wreck-gar to cry out sharply and buck his hips. The medbot slipped his hands under the younger mech’s aft, lifting the junkbot’s aft so he could gain better access to the opening, thrusting his glossa inside and rubbing it over the sensitive wiring, savoring the sweet tang of lubricant that dribbled out. Wreck-gar thrashed wildly as a throbbing pressure began to build in his pelvic region.

“Ngh…oh!” Wreck-gar cried, hand darting down to grab onto the medbot’s helm. “I feel like I’m going to explode! Ah!”

The younger mech screamed when a finger slipped into his port, brushing over a bundle of wires that triggered a violent overload. Grinning smugly, Ratchet watched as Wreck-gar rode out his climax, optics flickering offline as he fell into recharge. A few nanokliks passed before the young bot came back online, stretching his limbs and sighing happily, making Ratchet feel slightly jealous at how quickly the younger mech recuperated.

“Welcome back, kid,” Ratchet chuckled, pulling the younger mech into a tight embrace. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, but I’d like to you feel you…inside me,” Wreck-gar answered, reaching down to stroke the older mech’s shaft. “Please?”

Ratchet replied in a low, raspy voice, “Soon. There’s no need to rush this.”

“Now,” Wreck-gar whined, tugging until the older mech was atop him. “Need you inside me, Ratchet. Want you so much. Please?”

As much as he wanted to, the medbot couldn’t resist those sweet pleas. With their optics locked, Ratchet positioned himself and then rocked his hips forward, breaching Wreck-gar as gently as possible, his intakes catching as the hot, velvet clench of the younger mech’s body pulled him in further.

“Am I hurting you?” Ratchet asked, caressing the younger bot’s cheek, fighting the urge to slam into the delicious, tight warmth that threatened to send him spiraling over the edge. “We can stop--”

“No!” Wreck-gar interrupted. “It doesn’t hurt. Primus! It…you feel incredible. Keep going.”

Shaking from the intense pleasure of Ratchet inside him, filling him so exquisitely, Wreck-gar slid his hands down to the older mech’s hips, guiding him in further, until the medbot was buried to the hilt, both panting at the powerful sensations. Staying perfectly still, Ratchet waited for Wreck-gar to adjust to his size, and after a few moments passed, the medbot began to thrust gently.

“Unn…uh…more!” Wreck-gar keened. “Harder! Faster!”

Ratchet shook his head, nipping the younger mech’s chin, “I’m not going to risk damaging you. Slow and gentle this time, and don’t try to argue with me about it.”

Withdrawing almost completely, Ratchet then slid forward again, stretching Wreck-gar to the limit, muffling the younger mech’s cries of passion with rough kisses. Wreck-gar broke the kiss to throw back his head, sobbing in ecstasy, clutching onto the older mech desperately as he felt a slow build of energy in his frame, port throbbing pleasantly with each thrust.

Sliding a hand under Wreck-gar’s hip and adjusting the angle, Ratchet gently thrust his hips forward, crying out when the younger mech’s fingers slipped under the seams of his back, toying with the sensitive wires underneath. Pulling back and then thrusting deep again, Ratchet watched Wreck-gar buck and writhe violently from the immense pleasure.

“Right there!” Wreck-gar wailed as Ratchet repeatedly pumped his hard arousal over the sweet spot of wires inside him, driving them both to the brink of climax at tremendous speed.

Bracing a servo against the ground, Wreck-gar pushed down firmly and clenched his internals, causing both of them to cry out loudly. Ratchet lowered his head, capturing the younger mech’s lips in a greedy kiss. His spark was pulsing wildly, longing to merge with the younger mech, but he knew it was too soon for such a thing, if it was even possible to do with a bot brought to life through an Allspark fragment.

“Ratchet!” Wreck-gar screamed breathlessly. “Ugh! Feels so good! Don’t want it to end!”

“I want to feel you let go, kid,” Ratchet panted, dipping his head to nip and lick the younger mech’s chassis. “Overload for me. Overload now!”

Letting out a hoarse scream, Wreck-gar’s control shattered, and he climaxed violently, chanting out Ratchet’s name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. The medbot screamed out his own release as well, port tightening even more around his throbbing arousal. He buried his face in Wreck-gar’s neck, riding out the brutal, pleasurable aftershocks of his climax.

Pressing a tender kiss to Wreck-gar’s shoulder, Ratchet let out a soft sigh, optics half lidded and drowsy with contentment, gradually and reluctantly pulling out of the younger mech’s port.

“Hm, that was wonderful Ratchet,” Wreck-gar murmured, nuzzling the older mech’s cheek.

Ratchet chuckled, “I couldn’t agree with you more, kid. You were beautiful during overload. I definitely want to see you like that again.”

Wreck-gar grinned wide, grinding his hips against Ratchet’s. “Right now? Can we interface again, right now?”

“Primus, kid, I swear you’re trying to deactivate me!” Ratchet grumbled, reaching down to still the younger mech’s hips. “Not now. Not for a while. I need to recharge.” The younger mech pouted. “Not another word out of you. Recharge. Now.”

Wreck-gar didn’t protest as he offlined his optics, and Ratchet followed suit, drifting off into a peaceful recharge as the younger mech laced his fingers together across Ratchet’s back, ensuring that their bodies remained intimately locked.

When Ratchet woke up, he noticed something was off. He couldn’t feel Wreck-gar against him, and he couldn’t move his arms or legs. His optics flickered back on, and what he saw filled him with unbridled dread. Wreck-gar was a few feet away, wrists bound with stasis cuffs, trembling in fright as he was held in Lockdown’s lap, hook pressed threatening against the younger mech’s neck. The bounty hunter grinned wickedly when he noticed Ratchet staring at him.

“Hey, doc-bot,” Lockdown chuckled, “glad you’re awake. Now we can have some fun.”

TBC
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