Title: Firsts: Thundercracker and Skywarp
Author: Mirage Shinkiro

Rating: T
Warnings: mech/mech kissing, a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous and nonsexually reproducing but male-"pronoun'd" 'bots.

Disclaimer: Transformers is the property of Hasbro, and although I wish I could make money off the TF franchise so I could be independently wealthy, I am not. Alas, I remain poor and am just borrowing the lovely robots.

Summary: G1. Thundercracker has a secret desire concerning his deadly trinemate, and its one he hopes Skywarp will share.

A/N, explanation: This is another in a series of one shots about various couples, all of them surrounding a first kiss.

Companion story to "Sound and Fury," but you don't have to have read it before reading this. In fact, this is set several vorns before the crash on Earth, much less "Sound and Fury."

oOoOo

Firsts: Thundercracker and Skywarp

From Darkmount's tallest spire, Thundercracker gazed at Polyhex's skyline, secretly enjoying the yellow and red lights shining from the windows of distant skyscrapers. Night shrouded Cybertron forever now, the endless war between the Decepticons and Autobots having knocked the planet from its orbit. Artificial gravitational machines deep in the planet's over-mined core were the only thing maintaining the planet's usual rotation, and tractor beams worked exhaustlessly to keep the planet's two small moons in place. A fully technological world with a technological species fighting a technological war.

The irony of Thundercracker's reason for sitting perched like a tubrovulture wasn't lost on him. No matter what science and technology created around or inside him, no matter how long the war waged, nothing could erase the bond between Seekers in a trine. It didn't help that Starscream was slowly growing imbalanced and insane or his fellow 'Cons would exploit any show of affection as weakness, but Thundercracker still felt the familial-like pull between his trinemates and himself. He felt it enough to not only await Skywarp's return from his mission but also his debriefing.

Finally, the moment that Thundercracker had been looking forward to arrived. The towering doors of Darkmount slid open, and a black and purple form shot out, its thrusters kicking in, glowing blue in the darkness. Thundercracker had several dozen ways to track his friend: radar, sound, GPS, energy signature, comm. locater . . . the list was seemingly endless. He chose, however, to simply follow those turbines that shone against the sky. He stood and stepped off the spire, letting himself freefall momentarily and enjoying the air rushing against him. Then he transformed gracefully, igniting his own thrusters and tracking Skywarp.

For a breem, no comm. messages or signals passed between them. Thundercracker gave himself to their unspoken game, the faux chase, following Skywarp as he vectored upward between skyscrapers, dived around buildings, and hurled himself toward the ground, clearing the burnt-out wreckage of dead Autobot carcasses by less than a wing-span. Letting the restrictions of orders, rules, and watching optics slip away from him, Thundercracker submitted to the cool air rushing over his plating, letting the vibration and heat of his own engine lull him into a peaceful daze undercut by the excitement of breaking the sound barrier and leaving the pathetic ground-huggers behind.

As they neared Polyhex's outer walls, Skywarp slowed down, transforming and landing on the parapet. Thundercracker followed suit, touching down beside him. "Kill count?" he asked, smirking, his entire demeanor at odds with the warmth he felt in Skywarp's presence.

"Twenty seven 'Bots." Skywarp grinned. "If you can't beat that on your mission, you owe me five high-grades."

"Five?" Thundercracker grabbed his shoulders and shoved him. "Glitch! There's no way for either of us to get five cubes of high-grade."

Skywarp simply laughed, and Thundercracker joined him, unable to feel angry at his younger trinemate's antics. A certain mischievous gleam always glowed in Skywarp's optics, turning teasing when in private only to flare violently in battle. Thundercracker loved both variations.

"I'm setting the prize this time," Skywarp reminded him. "Unless you're going to propose a change to the rules, and if you do, you know what that means."

Thundercracker sneered. Beating you in a sparring match, he thought, well-aware of the parameters of their little contest. "That would be no fun," he replied. "I'll simply have to win, in which case you'll owe me five cubes."

"It'll never happen." Skywarp danced away with a flick of wings, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. "You may have better sparring skills, but I have better aim."

Thundercracker trailed behind him, watching the city lights reflect off the purple stripes on those wings. "So you think." He reached out a hand, driven by an impulse so ancient the Seekers themselves weren't sure how it started, only to stop himself. To touch your wings again, he thought, frowning. How long as it been since this trine has initiated the bonding ritual? Since Starscream and Megatron entered their strange stalemate? If only they'd quit pretending and 'face already. Even Shockwave can tell they secretly desire each other! He unconsciously sighed through his intakes, only realizing what he'd done when Skywarp turned to look at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You seem . . . different."

Shrugging, Thundercracker gazed over the parapet, where the remains of blasted skyscrapers offered up twisted steel beams to the black sky. A severed hand there, a broken wing there. The world beyond Polyhex was a graveyard of discarded parts and shattered buildings. "Caught on a memory," he replied.

"O-kay." Skywarp raised one optic ridge, clearly confused by the answer, and turned to walk away.

Thundercracker stared at those proud wings that graced such a delightfully cruel warrior. Unbidden, his hand reached out again, and he traced fingertips down the upper edge of Skywarp's wing.

Skywarp halted abruptly, a faint shiver moving down his form. "Thundercracker?"

No outright rejection. Thundercracker smirked at his minor victory, then gave himself to the ritual. With gentle fingers, he caressed the underside of Skywarp's wings and drew small circles across the expanse of metal, each action reaffirming to his trinemate that he would honor their bond, even in a world as twisted as theirs had become, and keep Skywarp airborne. Protect his wings.

Moaning faintly, Skywarp leaned back into the touch, his arms dropping to hang loosely at his sides. "Thundercracker?" He turned as his wings were released and ran his palm down Thundercracker's wing.

His wings trembled in response to the touch, and Thundercracker knew he wanted something from his friend that 'Cons rarely gave. It was, perhaps, only something Seekers could understand and offer: an intimacy beyond that of pawing and groping, biting and a quick, rough 'facing. Weakness or gift, it was a need they hid, and one Thundercracker no longer wished to withhold from himself or from the beautiful warrior who caressed his wings.

As Skywarp rubbed the expanse of his wing, Thundercracker captured his chin and brought their lips together, crossing the line between ritual and sexual. Flicking his glossa against Skywarp's closed mouth, he quickly parted his lips and delved inside, entwining their glossa and rubbing them against each other. Skywarp moaned more loudly, pressing their cockpits together and running his arms around Thundercracker's shoulders. He responded by releasing his energy field, pushing it slowly through Skywarp's body and hearing the resultant whirling of systems kicking into high gear. The body against his grew warmer, the glossa rubbing against his bolder, and Thundercracker moaned as well, running his knuckles down Skywarp's wings and activating sensors as he went.

Gasping, Skywarp broke the kiss and stepped back. "W-what are you playing at here?" he demanded, his voice rough.

"I'm not playing at anything," Thundercracker replied calmly. "You know I'll never accept a lover who can't fly." Nor a bondmate, neither. And in a world so uncertain, you are the only constant I can imagine, much less want.

"Lover?" Skywarp whispered, his crimson optics widening. "You want to . . . you see me as . . .?" He seemed knocked off-balance.

Thundercracker grasped his chin again, running his thumb over his jaw. "We are two-thirds of the best trine Megatron has. Superior in every way. Tell me you'd be satisfied with anyone else."

Skywarp paused, then shook his head slowly.

"I didn't think so." Thundercracker brought their lips back together, sucking on Skywarp's bottom lip, and knew he'd gotten what he wanted. He might have an insane trine leader and a megalomaniac for a commander. He might have no real interest or commitment the 'Con cause except the opportunity to fight and kill. But in his arms he held the only one he was sure of: a lover, a warrior, a predator of the skies.

Postscript: Thank you to herongale for beta reading this.

Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and/or faving my other "Firsts" stories. Here's the list thus far:

"Firsts: Prowl and Sideswipe"—posted
"Firsts: Wheeljack and Ratchet"—posted
"Firsts: Prowl and Jazz"—posted
"Firsts: Hot Rod and Sunstreaker"—posted
"Firsts: Mirage and Jazz"—posted
"Firsts: Optimus and Elita"—posted
"Firsts: Skyfire and Perceptor"—posted
"Firsts: Thundercracker and Skywarp"—here
"Firsts: Ratchet and Sideswipe—forthcoming
"Firsts: Scavenger and Fireflight—forthcoming (yeah, you read that right)