Fic commission - Fragged Off

[camfield]

Story commission for xLosersRuleTheWorldx on DA



Universe: G1
Rating: Mature/nc17
Characters: Airstream/Wheeljack  






Wheeljack sifted through a box of unfinished projects, his servos passing over half built gizmos and spare parts, looking for something to occupy his time.  Airstream was on third shift and technically Wheeljack should have been in recharge but tonight it just wasn't happening.  His processor kept chain linking data and rebooting various memory files in a way that had his servos twitching and helm fins flashing.

Airstream kept sending soothing pulses over their bond, a sure sign that he'd noticed Wheeljack was still awake.  It was a sweet gesture, but combined with everything else right now was also more than a little annoying.  Wheeljack was more than capable of handling a little insomnia thank you very much, he didn't need anyone coddling him.  Period.

So he shut down his end of the bond, growling a little, and began sorting projects with a little more force.  Slamming pieces down onto his table, cracking components and growing more frustrated with his own inability to regulate his servo's force gauges.

Finally, after splitting a fairly important gear in half he gave up.  Tossing things back into the box he'd just ransacked with none of his usual care or meticulousness.  He glanced around their shared quarters, Airstream's things were kept neatly organized on shelves he'd put in the moment they'd claimed this lab for themselves.  Wheeljack's personal items were strewn about, a point of contention that they had learned to live with over the vorns but still caused arguments, and his own projects were organized, though in a much different way than his mate's.

Wheeljack snarled, ripping his facemask off and throwing it towards the berth.  Airstream had always said that Wheeljack was a master at organized chaos and right now looking at the differences in their cleaning habits was making him even angrier.

These damn fluxes.  His emotional protocols were running haywire, jumping with the data stream through his processor.  It was about to drive him berserk and he currently was this close to doing some real damage to his lab and projects.

He could feel Airstream prodding the block and sent a wordless snarl back before slamming the connection closed completely.   He was working himself into a frenzy, for no reason  he could discern.  Something was wrong, but finding out what would mean he would have to go to the medbay and see Ratchet.  Not something he looked forward to doing at any time, but waking Ratchet out of much needed recharge was asking to be reformatted.  Even through his processor haze he realized that was a Bad Idea.

Which left destroying his lab or finding something else to do before his mess of a processor shorted out.

Shooting range it was.

Wheeljack had keyed in a fairly hard program and was fully engaged when Airstream entered the room.  It had been something of a worry to the Seeker when Wheeljack had shut down their bond, he'd never done that before.  The feelings of frustration and anger coming off the Lancia were intense, much more so than Airstream had ever felt from his mate before.  Something was wrong, enough that Wheeljack didn't want to tell him, and it bothered him immensely.  

Airstream watched as Wheeljack blew through the program and queued up another, still oblivious to his presence.  It was grating to the neural systems that he didn't notice his own mate, something Airstream fully intended to rectify.  Even so, the intense focus Wheeljack had on the shooting program was sending a charge into Airstream's circuits.

Warrior Wheeljack was not, but he was no pushover either.  Some of the things Airstream liked about Wheeljack was that he was competent, confident and  intelligent, a deadly combo in an enemy, a brilliant combo in his mate.  

So he watched as Wheeljack effortlessly lined up shots and took down the drones.  Watched the corner of his mouth twitch into an almost cruel smile for every one hit KO and savored the slow build of heat in his interface array.

When the program was nearly over he strode up and pressed up close to Wheeljack's back, grasping the gun and taking down the last drones before his mate had a chance to react.   Giving the command to shut down the program he bore the racecar to the floor, pinning both arms easily over the other's helm and surging down for a kiss.

At the same time he battered the wall Wheeljack had created against the bond, barraging it with his own lust, frustration at being shut out, fear that something had gone wrong, love for his stubborn mate.  He felt Wheeljack fighting back, snarling into the kiss, biting at the Seeker's lips in an attempt to regain control.  Airstream pressed his body more firmly against the one beneath him, grinding his cockpit against the Lancia's hood.  

He'd never admit to being afraid that Wheeljack would reject him, but growing up with creators who could have cared less if he and Thornstriker had lived or died had rooted it deep in his spark.  Wheeljack had been the first to see Airstream and accept him for who he was, something that Airstream had seen and returned from the very beginning of their relationship.   

"What is wrong with you 'Jack!"  Airstream was more than a little worried.  Wheeljack had never been a complacent lover, but the ferocity with which he was fighting Airstream was much more intense than it had ever been before.  He released Wheeljack's servos only to find himself flat on his back, wings jarring painfully against the floor.

"Couldn't just leave me alone for a night could you!"  Wheeljack flinched inside, but whatever was wrong with his processor wasn't leaving room for comforting.  "I was fine out here, didn't need you butting in with your misguided attempts to help.  Frag. Off!"

Airstream felt like he'd been hit.  Something was wrong; Wheeljack never talked like that, not to him, not to anyone.  "If you think I'm going to let my mate just up and shut me out without bloody talking to me about whatever is bothering him you'd be dead wrong.  I'm not that kind of mech."

Wheeljack howled and threw himself down on top of Airstream, rubbing their interfacing panels together.  Sparks flew from the heated metal and the Seeker bucked up into the friction before he could stop himself.  "Show me what kind of mech you are then!  You should know I've never been the talking kind."

Wheeljack pushed himself up the flyer's body and into a kiss.  Airstream's body responding to the advances of his mate the same way it always had.  It took so little for Wheeljack to rile him up, everything about him was pure perfection in only the way a loved one could be.

So he responded, grasping the flashing helm fins and pulling them tighter together.   This wasn't love making, wasn't what Airstream was used to from Wheeljack, but pit if it wasn't revving his systems higher than they'd been in a long time.  He growled as the Lancia made to pull away and yanked him back down, biting and mouthing before running a rough glossa over the wounds, soothing them and then starting over again.

Wheeljack was bucking into him, pushing him away and pulling him closer, sometimes in the same motion.   Servos dragging roughly over the Seeker's gray wings, leaving white streaks and painfully deep grooves that would have to be buffed out if he wanted to fly straight anytime soon.  Airstream could feel the metal of Wheeljack's armor buckling, denting from the pressure of his own servos and fought for a modicum of control.  

A servo pawed at his spike panel, gripping the edges in a threat, and Airstream shuddered as it opened and cool air hit the heated components.   It pressurized into Wheeljack's servo and he found himself gasping from the rough strokes.   The inventor snapped his own panel open and pressurized his spike against Airstream's, both of them letting out a hiss at the sensation.    Wheeljack took them both in servo and squeezed, a moan drifting up from Airstream as he watched their spikes being stroked by the black digits of his mate.  They rubbed together; a glorious feeling, before Wheeljack turned, lifted himself over Airstream's spike and dropped, impaling himself with one motion.

Airstream's vents hitched, abdominal cables tightening, and raised himself onto elbow joints to watch the Lancia rise and fall in his lap.  Wheeljack's helm was thrown back, moans coming unabashed from his vocalizer, and Airstream couldn't help venting heavily at the sight.  His bondmate's powerful thigh hydraulics raised and lowered him in a steady rhythm over Airstream's spike, and from this angle he could see Wheeljack's winglets tremble with arousal.  

His optics were drawn to where they connected, watching his spike disappear again and again into the wet heat that was Wheeljack.  It was a mesmerizing sight, one that he made a note to see more of, and he almost didn't notice shifting his weight to one arm so that he could reach out and stroke the inventor's black aft.   He stroked it again before raising his servo and bringing it down hard, his own plating stinging from the impact.

"YoAH! You sorry fragger!"  Wheeljack made to move forward, but Airstream was done with his strange behavior.  He followed, keeping them connected, and shoved Wheeljack onto all fours.  A sharp thrust, then he ground forward with the most minute rocking motions he could.  He pressed between the winglets, forcing the racecar's face to the ground, and held him there, hips circling in a tease he knew would wind Wheeljack up.

A scream of rage echoed through the room, the closed off bond exploding open in a rush of emotion that nearly knocked Airstream to the floor.  Wheeljack's struggles, snarls, were full of as much rage as they were arousal and it scorched them both with its intensity.  Airstream's focus narrowed to his mate, to this struggle for dominance that he would win.

Alpha. Dom.  He was the Alpha in this relationship, the dominant partner!  His coding screamed at him to prove his worth as a mate, prove that he was the strongest, that he was the only one who would be allowed in Wheeljack's valve.  His hips seemed to move on their own, thrusting hard even as he kept the other's helm pressed to the floor.  One of his servos reached around and grasped Wheeljack's spike, pumping it in time with his own movements and the resulting sounds were music to his audials.

He felt the electricity crackle over their plating, his overload rapidly approaching, and released Wheeljack's spike to curl the servo around his black hip, pulling them together with  a force that was on the edge of painful.  The slick valve clenched around his spike, pulling him in with each thrust.  Each withdrawal was paired with a 'shluckking' sound that had his mouth dripping oral lubricant in memory of the taste of the lubricant.  Wheeljack had reached down and was jerking quickly on his own spike, matching the pace again to Airstream's thrusts.

Each movement was torture and the highest pleasure all at once.  His cables clenched and sparks flew from where their plating touched and all of the sudden Wheeljack was keening, his valve clamped down in overload.  Airstream thrust harder, forcing his way back in twice, three times more, before he found his own release, back arching until his wings touched the ground.

It was about a breem before either of them had the ability to talk, but the first thing Airstream noticed was that Wheeljack wasn't radiating anger through the bond anymore.  Perplexed, he prodded the connection and was rewarded with a sheepish feeling from his other half.

He pulled out, wincing, and tucked his spike away before rocking back and resting on his thrusters.  "Want to tell me what that was about?  I was really worried about you."  Airstream watched as Wheeljack picked himself up and righted his own panels before turning.

"Dunno what it was, just that it's gone now."  His optics took on a decidedly mischievous light.  "Maybe I just needed it fragged outta me."

Airstream just smiled and shook his helm before leaning  forward and rapping his knuckles on Wheeljack's chest plate.

"You are so seeing Ratchet in the morning."