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Neutral	By : LuciferDragon Category: Transformers > Transformers: Prime Views: 3873 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers universe, nor do I make money from this oneshot.

Chapter List
- 1-Neutral
- 1
I am an Autobot through and through. I have a thing for Ironhide, as seen in "Times are Changing". However, this story popped in my head and there was nothing I could do about it. So here is the first part to what I'm dubbing "Neutral".

Forewarning: There is drug/alcohol use in this story, as well as inevitable sex. If this is out of your comfort zone, I highly advise you to find another story.

For a moment he was in command. His squadron followed orders perfectly that day. Almost too perfectly. The raid was going smoothly. The Autobot base didn't know what hit them. One moment the sound of guns were filling his audios, and the next, a severe pain ripped through the belly of his jet mode. He let out a screech of a reaction, but it was too late. He knew he had to retreat, despite his orders to remain vigilant through the mission.
His optics faded in and out as his speed began to weaken. He cursed at the liquid seeping from the blast wound. His damage reports were telling him to land and repair immediately. He attempted to pilot to the ground, but his navigation systems failed him. At the last moment they kicked back online. His Energon regulator skipped a pulse as he pulled back into his transformation. His heelstruts kicked up sparks and he lost his balance, rolling a few times from the force of impact, making him yelp in pain at every blow. When he finally slowed to a stop he curled around his blast wound as tightly as he could, his systems working overtime.
His damage reports were screaming at him by now, threatening him with inevitable offline status. However, the pain coursing through his sensors left him helpless, draining, and hopelessly alone in unexplored territory. He hadn't been able to track where he had been going. If he were in any better shape, he would have shot himself for the mockery he would be making of his Seeker status.
The pain was becoming more unbearable, and he began to accept the fate dealt to him by the hands of his disgusting foes. When he thought about it, going offline may not have been such a bad thing. Sure he had a few perks, air commander, first lieutenant of the Decepticon army, but at what cost? Constant belittling for his unfortunate failures? It wasn't always his fault that he failed. He didn't deserve the beatings, not all of them anyway. He only tried his best. Granted he did attempt to usurp his leader quite a few more times than he would have liked to admit, but that was a sign of determination, was it not?
He rolled on his side, Energon leaking from his mouthplates as his vents attempted to clear themselves. The reports began to flicker with his vision. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. His Energon regulator slowed. It would be a welcomed respite. His pain receptors went numb. Maybe he'd be honored in some way. His vision left him completely. Or maybe his spark would linger as it had in the past. He found himself chuckling weakly. What a way to go. Soon, all the pain was gone, replaced by pure serenity.

His sensors flickered to life and a dull processor ache tore through his helm. He let out a soft groan and tried to place his claws to his helm. A sharp shock of pain went through his chestplates at the action.
"I wouldn't move just yet."
His optics came back online at a soft voice to his left. A silver painted femme sat in a chair in a corner, a sword held at the ready. "What happened?"
"I found you while looking for scrap parts. You landed outside my town." She kept her attention on her sword. "You're on the edge of the Neutral Territories."
He frowned. "I must have flown farther than I thought." He looked to the ceiling, keeping his optics shuttered. "How long have I been in stasis?"
"Two orns since I found you. Your recovery has been slow, even with my help."
He scoffed but accessed his diagnostic reports. Only a few more things needed self-repair, but they weren't going as fast as he would have liked. He ran his claws over his chestplates, feeling no indication he had been shot at all.
"You'll have minor scarring, but it can be buffed out. I'm sure you 'Cons have someone for that."
He couldn't help but notice the bitterness in her words. "I thought neutral parties stayed out of the war."
"That was until my family missed my graduation from the Cybertron War Academy." He heard a sharp metallic sound echo off the walls of the domicile.
He glanced back over to the femme, seeing her sharpen her blade. "What's your designation?"
"I don't believe you need to know."
He chuckled at her. "A tough Neutral? I didn't know you existed. Most of your kind are backstrutless fools."
"Not everyone has made it out of this war without scars." She glanced at him finally, letting him see purple optics rimmed with yellow. He also saw a gouge mark in her facial plates, over her right eye. She seemed to study him for a moment before setting the sword down.
"Have you decided I'm not a threat?"
"With you flinching at every motion of your servos? I don't think you could do much damage, 'Con." She got up and picked up a scanner device. Without another word she activated it and moved closer to the berth he was laid out on.
He allowed her to check his vitals and track the progress of his repairs. It allowed him to see who exactly he was dealing with. Her slender frame told him she had trans-scanned a smaller vehicle, and her lack of a paint color said more. The Autobots usually used brightly colored paint, same as some of the Decepticons. As she trailed the scanner closer to his helm, he saw a very faint outline of a sigil.
She looked at the scanner, frowning at the results. "You're healing slower than you should be. You aren't allergic to any forms of Energon, are you?"
"Can't say I am. Where did you find enough Energon to replenish my tank?"
"I have my sources." She turned the scanner off and set it on a table nearby. "I suppose it's a minor setback. Another few orns of stasis should finish your repairs."
He waved his claws in dismissal, working off the pain. "I couldn't return to stasis even if it was forced."
She rolled her optics and walked away. "Do as you wish."
He returned his attention to the ceiling, listening to her random small noises as she moved about the domicile. He couldn't glean much of his location, not even the size. The berth he was on was comfortable enough, but seemed to be in the same room as everything else. "Not much space here, is there?"
"I don't need much. It's just me after all."
He kept moving his servos, feeling the pain begin to ebb. "You graduated from the Cybertron War Academy?"
"A long time ago."
"What position?" He was able to prop himself up, giving him a view of the domicile.
"Soldier, as well as field medic. I know how to keep people alive, at least."
He chuckled, looking at his surroundings. It was a quaint little place, very little decoration. He could see the main door, and by it was a monitor mounted on the wall. She herself was leaning on a counter, an Energon cube held slack in her grasp. He was finally able to look down at his chestplates, seeing the scar she had mentioned. He'd have to have Knockout look at it upon his return. His circuits seized. "You said a few orns have passed, correct?"
She nodded. "Why?"
"I need to report in. They'll think I'm dead."
"And that would be a bad thing?"
He arched a browridge at her tone. "It would be," he growled. "I've worked hard to gain the position I have."
"And taken quite a beating. Tell me, whose claw marks are embedded in your wings?"
His optics glowed as he sneered at her. "None of your fragging business, Target Practice."
She only grinned. "Is that the best you can do?"
He pointed his rocket at her, but found he couldn't access his weapons systems.
She clicked her glossa. "I'll have to ask you to refrain from firing a rocket in my home. It's hard enough to keep clean."
He growled in frustration and forced himself into a sitting position on the berth. It was then he noticed it was the only one in the whole unit. "Where have you been recharging during my stasis?"
"I haven't been."
He looked on in surprise, which then turned into a smirk. "Worried about someone you've never met? A Decepticon Air Commander, no less?"
She rolled her optics. "I'm a different sort of Neutral, 'Con. I try to use my skills to help out on either side."
"As a mercenary."
"Field medic. I gave up the sword. It's used purely in defense now." She shrugged and raised the cube to her faceplates. As it was held up to the light, he could see the dark hue of highgrade.
"Have any more of that to spare?"
She snorted. "I live off this stuff more often than not." She retrieved another from her supply cabinet. He was able to see she wasn't lying. Highgrade far outweighed life sustaining Energon. He watched her approach with the extra cube, extending it out for his grasp.
"Not going to say it will mingle with my medications?"
She scoffed and sat in the chair next to her berth again. "I'd like to say I put you on medications for your pain, but your body rejected it. Must have been something in the formula I used." She nodded to his sitting posture. "I can see it is slowly fading from your sensory network, however."
He refused to let her know how much pain he was actually in at that moment in time. "So, is this how you pick up all your mechs?"
She met his challenging grin. "Only the pathetic ones." A laugh escaped her at his growl. "Down, boy. You couldn't handle me."
"I very well could if I were in my prime condition." He took a few deep pulls, relishing the effects of the highgrade. It was a rarity on board the Nemesis, and he would have to degrade himself to the slums of Kaon to find a good shot of it. Hits of anything else were even harder to find. And with his line of work, hits of anything to numb the pain were a welcomed distraction.
"The only thing I could have used for the pain isn't really viewed positively. So, had to wait for you to wake up for you to want this. At least it's some sort of inebriation."
He looked at her as she finished off her cube. "What sort?"
"Lectrode, mainly." She pursed her mouthplates. "I saved your life; you can't turn me in to your army."
He snorted around his cube. Once his vents demanded to be kicked back on he pulled away from the near-empty container. "Do you really think the Decepticon Army would bother throwing you in the jails of Kaon for a few hits of 'Lectrode?" He swept his claws to the main door. "We have quite a few other things to worry about than drugs. Or the ones using it." He swirled the remaining Energon around, looking thoughtful. "Those who use it are usually trying to run from something. Pain, mainly. What could be causing a field medic pain?"
Her demeanor changed rapidly. She looked away, getting up to retrieve another cube. "You don't need to know. Not your business." She looked at him. "What would make you an expert on the effects?"
He grudgingly pointed to his dented wings loaded with claw marks. "My work is a bit… demanding at times." They fell into an uncomfortable silence, forcing him to hide behind the rest of his cube. When he brought it back down empty, he was surprised to see a familiar device in her open palm. The liquid charge looked back at him with welcoming memories of temporary escape. "What's this for?"
"Your pain. You're still in it. You think you're good at hiding it." She tossed it into his grip, setting another cube down next to him.
He scoffed but welcomed the invitation. He paused above the thick exposed cables under the armor of his arm. "How do you know I won't infect your Energon using your device?"
She shrugged, taking a sip from her cube. "Scanner says your Energon is clean. Same as mine. If a virus is what you're expecting, you can take a scan yourself to see I'm not a carrier."
He was in so much pain he would have believed that the Decpticon leader once practiced ballet. He charged the gun and pressed the nozzles into his cables. With a pull of the trigger he felt the pistons shoot an electrical filled current of charged Energon. Almost instantly the pain faded to nothing and he let out a sigh of relief as his head went a bit foggy. He barely felt the gun being pulled from his grasp. Once he realized it was gone, he looked to see her shift some of the armor plates aside on her leg, pressing to one of the thicker cables below. He heard the charge and the shot, and her pleasant mutter of satisfaction. She sat back in her chair as he leaned against the wall next to her berth, knowing his look of serenity matched hers. "Didn't expect a femme like you to hoard such things."
She merely shrugged. "Times are rough. Some days are hard to get through."
"It'd be worse if you were part of a faction. Those slagging scrapheap Autobots keep pressing back against our armada. This whole thing would be over if they would listen to reason. The people need a ruler."
Her smile faded. "Not if your leader rules as he fights." She found solace in her highgrade cube for a moment. She stared at the rippling liquid when she pulled it away. "Megatron is a ruthless warrior. That much should be obvious of an ex-gladiator champion. He's too cold, too calculating to rule as we Cybertronians should be ruled."
He couldn't argue with her. He himself had no different ambitions save for a few when he took over the Decepticon army. If, of course, he could find a moment in time where Megatron was at his weakest. "And you believe Orion— I mean, Optimus Prime, is the mech for the job?"
She shrugged again. "Maybe. I don't know. He seems to be fighting for the right reason. He wants the freedom of all, but upon defeat of the Decepticons, we'd all look to him as a leader. We wouldn't really be free then." She tapped her chin. "Or would we?" She shook her head. "Regardless, under Megatron's rule, we'd all be enslaved to do his bidding. I… I don't want that. I don't think anyone does."
He already led that life, and even though he held enough power of command on his own, he hated it. However, he was a Decepticon at heart. There was no other form of life for him. He left the scientists just for the chance at power. "Why did you save me?"
"You were injured. It's my duty to heal those who are injured when I have the capacity to help. That goes to both sides. I'm only one femme; I can't tip the balance with saving a few lives here and there with how many of you are blown up every day."
You have no idea how much of a balance you robbed the Autobots of. "I suppose I should give you my thanks, Femme."
Her smile finally returned. "Call me Haze."
He nodded, holding up the remains of his cube. "Thank you for another chance, Haze. I am Starscream."

They spent several groons talking, finding they both had a lot of things that they needed to say to someone. By then, they were both sitting on her berth, several empty cubes of highgrade surrounding them, as well as two empty cartridges of ‘Lectrode. Needless to say, pain was long gone from their sensory network, replaced only by soft electric tingles that flared all over their metal.
She covered her mouthplates as she laughed at his mocking voice, and he was growing fond of her female giggles. “I swear, you sound just like Buckethead.”
“So the joke is common knowledge.”
“It’s a bit hard to miss. You know—“ she mimicked the shape of a bucket “—when his helm is a fragging bucket.” She couldn’t keep a straight face and fell over laughing, laying over one of his legs.
“Wouldn’t get too comfortable, Femme, I’m out of cubes.” He shook the empty cube in her face and she struck it away. “I’m a guest. Hosts are supposed to treat their guests to whatever they want.” He grinned and tilted her serene face so he could properly examine her. “Actually, there is something else you could get me.”
She noticed his sly grin and shook her head, clearing it for just a moment. “Not afraid to speak your mind, are you?”
He shrugged. “I am a mech in the presence of a femme in her domicile, on her berth no less. I don’t see the big deal.”
“I barely know you.”
“When has that ever stopped a ‘Con?” He tapped his sigil. “What made you turn away from our numbers?”
Her Energon regulator skipped a pulse. “How did you—“
“You still have a faint marking on your chestplates. It’s hard to see, but it’s there.”
Instead of feeling embarrassed, she gave him a sly smile of her own. Her processors grew foggy again from the highgrade and ‘Lectrode doses. She leaned over his frame, laying out over his slender hips. “And what have you been doing staring at my chestplates?”
“My apologies, they jut in such a lovely way.”
She traced the cabin of his alt mode on his torso in obvious thought. However, the inebriation was making it hard to come up with negative thoughts on the subject. She tapped the glass a few times with her digits.
“Or you can fetch your patient more highgrade. Your call, Femme.” He knew how to seduce a femme easily. All it took was a drop in the pitch of his voice, a smoldering glance with his red-rimmed optics, and a coy smile. What he wasn’t expecting was her to get up from her berth. Smooth, Starscream.
She stumbled back from the cabinet and held another full cube in her grasp, getting back on the berth. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to straddle his narrow hips, holding the cube to the side. “Nothing comes from this. I’m only doing this because I most likely won’t remember it, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve interfaced. Last one was an Autobot by the name of Icestriker.”
He chuckled. “Getting a taste for all the flavors of Cybertronians?”
“You could say that. Or you could say I just really need a good fragging.” She held the cube teasingly over his chestplates. “I hope you can deliver, ‘Screamer.”
He took the cube from her hands and put it on the table next to them. “Oh don’t worry. I know a thing or two about giving a femme a good fragging.” And he held nothing back as he showed her just how well. He placed his claws to her lower backstrut, sliding her closer on his hips as he pulled her into a CPU-numbing kiss. What surprised him was her response. She pushed harder on him, showing she knew how to kiss just as well as he did. Every touch of her digits sent a tingle exploding from where they made contact on his metal.
He pulled back, moving to the exposed machinery and cables of her neck, running his glossa against a sensitive point. “Mm, you do know how to make a femme feel good without jumping right to the main event.”
He chuckled against the machinery, sending a shiver down her backstrut. “What’s the point of not having a little fun beforehand?”
“Oh I do agree…” Knowing he wasn’t paying attention she ran her digits over his hatch, hearing him hiss as the inebriation made everything more sensitive.
He chuckled at the electric tingles. “I see you know your way around a mech’s piece.”
“I know a little more than that, ‘Screamer.”
“Is that so?” He made her look at him, in the process getting a good look at her strange choice in optic colors, ignoring the deep gouge in her facialplates. He shifted his hatch open for her. “Show me then, Haze.”
She eyed his module before shifting back from his hips. “Very impressive.” She ran a digit over his module, making him let out a deep chuckle of a moan. “I see it has been awhile.”
“Mm, just wait until it is your turn.” He leaned back against the wall as she took him from the chamber, teasing the cables. He hadn’t been expecting that one. Not many femmes thought about the cables. He almost lurched forward as her serpentine glossa wrapped around his pointed module. He did just that as she sent electrical pulses through the part. “Primus, Haze.” All the while she teased the cables, sending his already foggy systems into a daze. She knew quite a bit about a mech’s piece, he came to find out.
She pulled him between her mouthplates, keeping the pulses to where he was most sensitive. She felt a claw run over her helm, but found no fear at them as they gently ran over metal. His air intakes began to quicken, and his groans were getting sharper and prolonged. It had been far too long since she had done anything like this, but she seemed to be doing a well enough job as she saw his other claws digging trenches in her berth.
“That’s a good femme. Just a bit more.” His helm tilted back as her electrical pulses quickened. “S-slag. That’s it, Femme.” With a guttural moan he overloaded, twitching as the pulses faded to nothing.
She grinned as she pulled off him. “Didn’t I tell you that you couldn’t handle me?”
“I-I’ve yet to be deterred, Femme.”
She leaned back, holding herself up as she spread her legs slightly. She shifted back the access panels to her port. “How well do you your way around a femme’s body?”
Instead of answering her he shifted himself to his knees, shoving the empty cubes off the berth to the floor. He leaned between her legs, running his own glossa around her port, avoiding slipping inside for the time being. Almost immediately she let out a soft hum of approval, encouraging him on. He held her legs apart with his claws, wanting as much access to her as he could. He slipped his glossa inside, running along the twitching rims that would eventually lock him in place. He grinned as he pressed over a bump in her port, feeling her twitch against his grasp. “Mm, I see you react well to this.”
“Been awhile. Don’t stop, ‘Screamer. I’ll have to hurt you if you do.”
He chuckled at her bravado and resumed his ministrations. Every flick against the button sent a strong electrical pulse through her body, making her whimper in pleasure. He twirled his glossa faster, sending pulses through the part as she had done for him, making her sounds escalate.
She hadn’t felt so good since Icestiker, and that was many, many cycles ago. And even he wasn’t as nimble. She couldn’t say anything past the moans escaping her vocal processor. It was all too much for her sensors to bear. Her own digits took purchase in her berth as she teetered on the edge. With one more pulse her optics flew open and a scream left her. “Primus, Starscream!”
He reached between his legs for his dangling module as his ministrations slowed down. Without giving her a chance for her systems to reset he kneeled between her legs and slipped his module into her port, feeling her rims shifting to make room for him, drawing out another moan from her. “Now, I believe I promised you a good fragging. I intend to make well on my promises.” Once he was in as far as he could go her rims locked him in place, making him hiss. He let a few electrical pulses slip through his restraint, and immediately felt her do the same. “Mm, I can see you frag back.”
“No-no sense in having just one of us do the work.” She clenched down on her dental plates as he slipped his glossa around her throat.
“Well lucky me.” He chuckled against her exposed cables. “Try to keep up.” He released the control of his pulses, letting the surges hit at random intervals at varying intensities. He felt her backstrut arch, pressing her chestplates to his as her digits dug in his pauldrons. Her shocks met his in her own varying intensities, leaving him guessing. Any time they gave one of the same strength they let out a simultaneous moan.
He wrapped her legs more firmly around his hips to press against her harder. The vibrations from the electrical shocks rippled through them both. Their moans, sighs, and grunts filled the domicile, echoing off the walls, filling their audios with muttered encouragements and hissed commands. She let out a breathy laugh as a sharp jolt washed over her. “Is that all you’ve got Starscream?”
He gave a rumble of a chuckle. “Not in the slightest.” He relished the cry that escaped her as she tilted her helm, exposing her throat as he increased his jolts. “Mm, I see you like being fragged senseless.” He didn’t get many chances to control a female’s every pleasure, to have one in the palm of his claws. “Tell me how it feels, Haze. Do you enjoy being underneath the Decepticon Air Commander?”
“Primus, ‘Scream!” Her digits scraped against his backplates. Her dentals found purchase of the cables of his neck. Her legs pressed into his hips, small shocks erupting as metal touched metal. Her cries escalated and her overloads were hitting her faster, more intense. “I’m coming! D-don’t stop!”
“Call for me,” he growled between clenched dentals, his own overload creeping closer. The sounds she was making were too arousing for him to handle.
“S-starscream!”
His purr of a chuckle turned darker. “Do you want all of me, Haze?”
“Yes, Primus, yes! Give me everything!”
She had been right all along. He wasn’t able to handle her. Her own pace matched his, making him light in the processor for a moment before it all snapped. His claws dug into her berth and he growled into her pauldrons, letting himself go completely. He could feel the bite of her digits in his backplates, but he had no desire to stop her. It only made the overload more intense, more viciously pleasurable. They both made no efforts to hide how good they felt.
Their vents heaved as they both trembled at the receding shocks, laughing shakily. “Wow.”
“You know it.” He observed her optics, finding them interesting, despite the deep gash running over the right one. “Your optics are quite… unique.”
She sighed in content, leaning her head back. “I couldn’t pick between the purple and yellow of the Neutrals.” She shrugged. “So I thought, why not both?”
Her rims relaxed around him, letting him remove his Energon-coated module. “I think we made a bit of a mess, dear.”
“That was all you.” She pushed at his pauldrons, making him sit back on the berth. Without a word she lowered herself between his legs, running her glossa over the pointed tip of his module. She gave a light laugh. “You’re sweeter than the highgrade.”
“Be sure to get all of it, femme.” A soft moan left his vocals as he watched her clean him off. Not many females bothered with what she did, nor did he usually care to give one their own pleasure first. Even less were the ones he overloaded inside of, causing such a mess. “Every, last, drop,” he growled, digging his claws into the berth. It was arousing to watch her serpentine glossa slowly run over his metal. He wouldn’t be able to give her another round until his systems reset, but it didn’t make the sight any less erotic.
She focused on her prize, continuing on even when all the blue was wiped away. She finally pulled away, still feeling light from her overload and the inebriation. “You really do live up to your designation, don’t you?”
He laughed, still feeling light himself. “As do you. You seem to know just how to put a mech in a haze.”
She let him take his module, putting it back in his hatch. “I have a few skill sets.” She frowned a bit. “Is the ‘Lectrode keeping the pain away still?”
“With as much as we went through, I shouldn’t be feeling anything for a few groons yet.” He ran a quick diagnostics check, surprised with the results. Something had sped his internal repairs, leaving him with very little damages left. He could leave in less than an orn. “I’m doing well now.”
She laid over his hips, resting her helm against the glass of his torso. “Seems a good fragging is all we both needed.”
He wanted to take her again, to bend her over and make her beg for his mercy, but he realized how long she had put off her recharge. Before he knew it her vents had quieted down, the cycles even and shallow. The insistence of recharge pushed at the back of his weary optics. With his wings lowered he laid back on the wall, finding it surprisingly comfortable. Without the strength to fight it, he gave in, allowing stasis to take him over again, not bothering to move her from his hips.

Haze woke with a start, finding herself alone in her berth. She looked around, still brushing off the residual recharge. “Starscream?” She propped herself up and looked around her domicile, seeing no trace of the Seeker. “’Scream?” Her optics fell upon a datapad propped up against an empty cube from the night prior. She tentatively picked it up and activated the message within. A smile crept over his faceplates and she set the datapad back down. With a shake of her helm she got up, requiring a cube of normal Energon.
“I apologize for leaving before you woke, but I must return to Kaon to make sure I have not been deemed offline. I must find other reasons to seek repairs in the future. You were right; I couldn’t handle you. But I would like to. And next time, I won’t let you get away with only one overload. I hope you will be prepared upon my return.”
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