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Based on a prompt from the kink meme.  A) Jetfire dances in the dark while B) on fire.

This didn't really fill what OP asked for, but I liked it enough to post it anyway.

Universe: TFA
Characters:  Jetfire, Jetstorm
Rating: T
Warnings:  Spark overload
Disclaimer: I claim nothing but my own poor writing and ideas. 



It was dark, not quite as dark as it got in space, but Jetstorm supposed you made do with what you had.
 
It had been a while since his brother had danced.  There hadn’t been many chances for him to slip away alone and Jetfire refused to dance if he knew someone was watching.
 
Tonight, though, he’d slipped away into the woods heading for a clearing that he had found a while ago but had never been able to find the time to get there alone.
 
Jetstorm waited before taking off after his brother, words ringing in his processor as he stared into the darkness.
 
“Brother, do not be watching me where I can be seeing you.”
 
Jetstorm paused, a confused look on his face.
 
“But why Brother?  You are beautiful when you are dancing, I only wished to show you my appreciation.  There is no need for you to be being embarrassed.”
 
Jetfire scowled.
 
“When I am dancing, the fire sometimes reaches for something.  I am not wanting that something to be you, Brother.  Please to be keeping yourself unseen if you are to be watching me.”
 
So he did.  Ever since then he had kept himself quiet and in the shadows while his brother answered a call more primal than either could understand.
 
Deciding that enough time had passed, he carefully set out to the clearing.  Flying low and slipping into the trees before taking the last stretch on foot, he maneuvered himself into a small but sturdy tree that overlooked the clearing perfectly.
 
His brother was already there, already dancing, but his fire hadn’t yet been lit.
 
A pleasant, high trilling keen echoed out through the clearing as Jetfire spun and moved on the ground and Jetstorm shivered as it seemed to dive straight into his spark.
 
Jetfire activated his thrusters and took to the sky, the beginnings of his fire looping around his frame in a sinuous pattern that made him look like a picture of one of those Earth Angels.
 
For Jetstorm, there was nothing so beautiful as his brother, especially when he danced.
 
So he sat in his tree and watched.
 
The thin strands of fire turned into a blazing inferno with his other half at the center, flitting and twisting and diving through the air in  a dance much older than either of them. Jetfire never questioned the movements, just like they didn’t question the instincts that their bond gave them.  He simply gave himself up to the energy that coursed through his lines like the fire that covered his plating.
 
It was exquisite to dance this way.  He knew his brother was somewhere around, the bond told him that much, but as long as Jetstorm stayed out of sight his fire wouldn’t reach out for him.
 
The fire wanted.
 
Wanted to claim Jetstorm as it had claimed Jetfire.  This dance was something that both brought him to the heights of exquisite pleasure and shamed him down to his core.
 
Fire was such a volatile element.  It had a need to claim and destroy, whichever was easiest, the things that came into its path.  The fire knew that Jetstorm was a brother and that it was bad to destroy, so it sought to claim him.
 
These dances were his way of controlling the fire’s base urges.  They spun the extra energy back into nature where it would dissipate without having to destroy or claim anything.
 
But for now, with the wind and fire whipping over his plating he felt only desire and euphoria.
 
It ratcheted up with each movement, each lick of flame over his wings, each flash of blue that his optics caught as he whirled until the dance became frenzied and impatient.
 
The fire caressed and moved, encouraging him to give in and stake his claim on his brother. 
 
He resisted and kept moving, his dance breaking into halting movements as his overload shattered the hold the fire had over him, his body arching and flaring as the fire burned itself out.
 
Jetstorm watched as his brother sank back to the ground, folding himself into a ball with knees tucked under his chin.  He could feel, through their bond, some of what Jetfire experienced during the dance, but he could not understand it. 
 
The fire spoke another language that he could not comprehend, and his own ice had no voice that spoke to him.  In this one thing, his brother was alone and there was nothing Jetstorm could do about it.
 
Still, he dropped from the tree and stepped into the clearing.  The dance over, he had no need to hide,  and kneeled beside Jetfire to offer his support.
 
“You are knowing, Brother, that I will always be being here for you.”
 
Jetfire didn’t look up, just grasped the blue hand and pressed it to his lips, the last of the fire’s voice leaving his processor.
 
“I am knowing this Brother.  I am knowing this.”
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