Crossroads of the Sparks

Author: Jad Le (a.k.a Hakuyaku)

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing beside the cheesy head-cannon I'm writing.

Summary: AU. Pre-war. Sunstreaker was on a journey to find his separated-at-birth twin brother, but a mistake forced him to work as a pleasure mech in Kaon. What would happen if one day he had to serve and then fall in love with a client who turned out to be Sideswipe, his twin brother?

Pairing: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker. And some various pairings.

Warning: Un'betad. English wasn't my first language. Slash, twincest and abusive theme, some non-con (don't read if it's not your thing, let's help me help you, alright?). AU. Maybe some OOC-ness.

Authors' note: I've been in the Transformers fandom for a very long time but this is the first time I gather enough courage to start writing a fanfic of my own. Please note that this is AU that I combine elements from G1, IDW and the games War for Cybertron and Fall of Cybertron and some of my own headcannons. I had a good time writing this since the twins are my favourite characters in the show and I hope you enjoy reading this too.

Notes:

Klik ~ a Cybertronian second

Cycle ~ a Cybertronian minute

Megacycle ~ a Cybertronian hour

Orn ~ a Cybertronain day

Quintun ~ a Cybertronian week

Diun ~ a Cybertronian month

Stellar cycle ~ a Cybertronian year

Chapter 1

Pre-war Cybertron

Somewhere on Kaon...

Away from prying eyes, being locked up in a dimly lit small quarter, with both arms cuffed behind back - almost painfully, was a yellow-panted mech with well-built frame and worn-out faceplate. He was lying on a double berth, writhing, groaning, and venting as a rather big mech with dark green paint job hovered above him, black servos playing with his chassis, touching and caressing every sensitive parts of the yellow mech.

"So beautiful..."

The green mech whispered, earning a growl from the other as a response.

He hated this. He wanted to punch that mech in the face. He would if his hands weren't cuffed. He would if he wasn't in this Primus forsaken place. He would if-

The angry thoughts were interrupted as he felt something poke between his spread legs. Something large and hard.

Something that he would tear it off if he could.

He offlined his optics, preparing what was to come, knowing full-well what would happen next. He tried to calm the spark that was pulsing in rage and pain underneath the yellow chestplate. Trying to believe that everything would be alright, trying to convince his spark that this was nothing, that he was strong and nothing could break him. Trying to tell an unknown mech that he never met before on the other side of the twins bond that his brother was alright. The yellow mech knew that his unknown twin would sense his feelings, he would feel his brother's rage, pain, shame and self-disgust. The thought of another yellow mech being swallowed in unknown pain and negative feelings despite not knowing what had caused them troubled him deeply.

Hey, brother, whoever you are, wherever you are, it's going to be alright.

He had come to Kaon to find his brother, his separated-at-birth twin brother. He had come to this city to look for the other haft of his spark, to label a name on a mech that had shared his feelings with him through their twins bond oh for far too long. He tried to venture into the infamous dangerous Kaon - the only clue of his brother's whereabouts. Maybe he had been too arrogant, believing that nothing could threaten his life, nothing could break him. He had walked into danger with his optics shut, alone and bare back, helm held high, oh so proud and almighty.

And then he fell, into traps and abysses, with his back being stabbed by the sharpest blade and helm being pressed down like a pathetic mech begging bystanders for some Energon to live by.

His pride was mutilated, reducing into his present self, living on prayers and wishful thinking. Just like now, as he was trying to think, to convince both himself and his twin on the other side of the bond that things would be alright, the green mech had grabbed his legs, parting them wider as he push that fragging thing into him, into his under-stimulated and dry valve.

He could only groan in disgust.

"So beautiful... so tight... Sunstreaker," the green mech moaned as he push further into the yellow mech with the called name.

Shut up.

Sunstreaker barked at the mech in his processor. Sometimes he would wish he could get some enjoyment out of this, but this pride prevented him so. Would he want his twin to feel his shameful lust through their bond? Would he want him to know his brother was a whore? He wouldn't bend his will for anybody, his frame, the frame that he was once cherished, proud of, even obsessive of to the point of snapping at any mech who attempted to touch him, this frame had already been lost. So he told himself, lose no more, be it his spark, his affection, or anymore of him.

The mech above him kept moaning and groaning as he thrust into the under-stretched valve, not noticing how Sunstreaker was biting his lips in a almost too painful way. The pace was slow, but the mech made sure to make every thrust hard and deep. Sunstreaker didn't even open the cover of his offline spike, not that the green mech cared anyway. All of the mechs that came here were only interested in his valve.

When Sunstreaker felt the overload of the mech, he let out a frustrated groan. A feeling of disgust swirling inside him at the same time he felt the fluids filling his valve. At least it's over, he told himself. The large mech collapsed on top of him, venting hard and starting to whisper in his audial all of the sweet words and lies that he could think of. Sunstreaker said nothing in return, shifting his helm away from the green mech's optics. The mech let out a laugh, planted a light kiss on the beautiful tired faceplate and gently rocking his spike that was still buried inside Sunstreaker.

He fragging hated this.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in Kaon...

Sideswipe lied awake on the berth, optics fixing on the dark grey ceiling, an arm laid upon his forehelm. He wondered what had caused distress in his spark that woke him up from recharge like this. He felt... sad, hurt, shameful, vulnerable. And yet, he didn't know why.

The red mech sat up, buried his helm in his servos. He wasn't exactly sure for how long had he sat like that, trying to figure out what was happening to him. As sudden as they came, the feelings were gone. A sense of reassuring, feelings of warmth and care erupted inside him, and Sideswipe relaxed into the strange yet familiar touch of them. Silently, he laid back on the berth, with his optics still opened wide.

::Hey,:: he started to comm. the only mech that he had come to accept as a family member, ::Are you still up?::

On the other side of the comm. link, Sideswipe could hear a groan, and a sigh, ::Nope::

::Doesn't sound like that to me,:: Sideswipe chuckled.

::What is it, Sides? Need me to come to your room and sing you a lullaby?::

::Please don't::

The mech on the other side laughed, ::C'mon, you know you want it::

::I want to be fully functional tomorrow, thanks:: Sideswipe smiled, earning a laugh from the other mech. A moment of awkward silence passed by before Sideswipe started, ::It happens again, Ironhide::

Ironhide was quiet for a few cycles, ::Mood-swing?::

::Yeah, because of the match tomorrow, maybe? But you know me, 'Hide. I don't easily get nervous. Sometimes I feel like my spark has its own spark, feeling on its own::

::How are you doin', Sides::

::Like slag::

Ironhide let out a sigh, ::Get some recharge. Maybe it will get better?::

Sideswipe stayed silent for a few cycles. If there were any words to describe the young red mech, beside arrogant, prankster and strong and maybe handsome, it was mood-swing. Sometimes, ever since he was still a sparkling, Sideswipe could rapidly change his mood, feelings negative in all of sudden. Not all of the moods were bad, though, because whenever he actually felt down, his spark pulsed in understanding, in sympathy, and did all it could to comfort him, to flood his system with affection and care.

It felt like he had another mech living inside him.

::Yeah,.: finally, Sideswipe replied, ::Thanks, 'Hide. Sorry for bother you::

::Anytime:: said Ironhide, ::You are, after all, my best student, one of the best gladiators in Kaon. You have a big match tomorrow, Sides. Try to recharge::

It had been a couple of megacycles since the last mech that Sunstreaker served.

Sunstreaker was sitting on the berth, reading the datapad about the city's latest news. It helped keeping him updated on the events surrounding him since he wasn't allowed to leave without permissions. He kept hoping his brother's face would appear on the news, so that he could at least learn something about him. Sunstreaker knew his twin must be beautiful, and hard to miss, just like him. He had to admit that even now he still spent a lot of time checking out his own reflection in the mirror in his room. At least it helped boosting some of his remaining ego, making him feel better and lightening up his usual sullen mood. Sunstreaker would looked at his image reflected in the mirror and believed that his twin brother would also be like that, a beautiful, yellow mech with exotic helm fins and well-built frame. Maybe not yellow? Maybe a different color, perhaps. But a mech could dream, right?

He wondered, what his twin brother was like. Was he living in the upper-class circle? Or was he a working mech? Or perhaps, a gladiator? They had shared their feelings through the twins bond ever since both of them were still sparklings. They were each other's emotional support, one tried to cheer, to comfort whenever the other was troubled. It had gone on for such a long time that made Sunstreaker realize he didn't need a faceplate, or even a designation, to care, even love, in an almost unconditional way for a mech that had always stayed close to his spark. Throughout the stellar cycles, Sunstreaker had come to know a faceless mech with an upbeat personality, even mischievous, and had serious anger issues.

His twin brother got angry all the time, but he couldn't figure out why.

The news were the same to him. Crimes rate in Kaon was high, so it shouldn't be a surprise to catch news about thieves and fights and stuff like that in the datapad. Kaon was the city of the poor and the oppressors. Mechs there worked twice as hard as mechs anywhere else on Cybertron, having not a moment to rest, even when they wanted to, knowing full-well there weren't, and never would be, any kinds of rewards or compliments or life-changing opportunities for a hard-working mech. Away from the slumps and low-life mechs, standing tall and looking down from the middle of the upper-class circle of the city was the Nuts 'n' Screws, one of the most popular brothels in Kaon. It was also Sunstreaker's workplace.

It was Sunstreaker's hell.

A familiar name appeared on the datapad as Sunstreaker surfed through the reported news.

Sideswipe.

A well-known gladiator. Gladiators were highly respected and admired in Cybertron, especially if they fought well in the Arena. They earned their livings through Credits from the bets on them and from rewards of tournaments, so famous and well-liked gladiators with long winning streak usually had very good life. Many low status mechs considered becoming gladiators as a life-changing opportunity. But the reality wasn't that simple. Strong gladiators, like this Sideswipe here, received challenges every orn. And they always made sure to shatter any dreams for a better life of these mechs.

Gladiators irritated Sunstreaker.

He had come to serve a lot of mechs that were gladiators. They were arrogant, boastful, and usually treated their berthmates like frag toys. But Sunstreaker strangely intrigued in this Sideswipe. Truthfully, they had never met before in person, but whenever Sunstreaker surfed the news he always caught the name Sideswipe and his winning streak in the Kaon Arena. This mech was strong, fearless as the news had claimed so many times, and Sunstreaker had to admit he was good-looking too, had a nice, flashy red paint job and frame that somehow share some similarities with his.

Suddenly, his private comm link pinged. Sunstreaker didn't even look at the designation since he already knew who he was. Who else? Pleasure mechs weren't allow to have contacts from clients for the sake of their identities. So Sunstreaker only received comms from either the owner of this place or him. That mech had tried to contact him ever since he left Iacon. Everytime he commed Sunstreaker, the yellow mech would always refuse to answer.

Just like what he just did. He vented, lost in thoughts as the comm stopped pinging, optics tried to focus on the datapad...

"Having a good read?"

The too-familiar voice practically made Sunstreaker jump a little. He turned to look at the mech with black and green paint job that had just entered his quarter. "Ever heard of knocking?" the yellow mech asked, voice filled with irritation.

"My place, I go wherever I want," the mech smirked, stepping close to Sunstreaker, digits caressing his cheeks, "My property, I touch whenever I want."

Almost immediately, Sunstreaker spatted the servo away from his faceplate, giving the invader an ugly glare, "I'm not your property, Lockdown."

"The contract said otherwise, Sunshine," Lockdown grinned, "Need me to remind you that it was you who signed the contract to work for me here?"

"You tricked me."

"And thank you for falling for it. Now I have a gorgeous and moody pleasure mech that actually bring me good Credits," the black and green mech moved closer to Sunstreaker, making him twitch.

"Move any closer and I swear to Primus that I'll cut off your spike and feed it to you," Sunstreaker growled and quickly moved backward, away from Lockdown, leaning on the wall behind him like a scare and furious predator, not even a slightest sense of humor in his voice.

Still looking at the angry mech, Lockdown laughed, but not moving any closer, "You see, Sunshine, this is why I love you so much. You're so feisty, so different from other pleasure mechs. I always enjoy breaking you. And I'll never get tired of reminding you of your place."

Lockdown then put his left servo behind his back, optics still fixed on the yellow mech. Realizing what he was going to do, Sunstreaker's spark sank in fear, his frame swung forward, intended to stop Lockdown. His processor was screaming, demanding the other mech to stop while shameful flashbacks kept rewinding. Before he could jump on Lockdown and give that fragger a good beating, or at least touch him, Sunstreaker fell on his side on the berth, curling into a fetus pose, trembling, writhing and venting hard. He bit his lips, digits curled into fists, trying to stop himself from giving up to temptation, to let out a groan, a moan or anything else. His spark throbbed in pain and unbearable shame. Charge ran through his frame like an electric shot. He was hot, almost overheated, every cables and sensor nodes inside him were screaming to be touched and used, his optics shone dimly, flickering.

"You are a turbofox and I hold your leash," Lockdown climb on the berth and sat next to Sunstreaker, "Remember of the codes that I put into your system, and remember that I hold the switch, and I can transform you into a needy, shameful whore you are supposed to be. Anytime."

"F... frag... you...," Sunstreaker mumbled, venting too hard to even speak properly. He gasped when he felt his spike online, budging against the codpiece. No no no! Sunstreaker mentally screamed, a servo immediately moved down to hold the codpiece tightly shut despite the painfully hard spike demanding to be let loose. His valve was wet, too wet, lubricant pooling behind its covering panel, clenching on nothing.

"I come to tell you something, Sunshine. Your previous client said that you were a good frag, but...," Lockdown leaned down, a wandering servo gently touched Sunstreaker's valve cover, earning a gasp from the yellow mech, "...he also complaint about how unresponsive you were. And he wasn't the first to say so. So I was thinking..."

Lockdown circled his digits on the other mech's valve cover, whispering into Sunstreaker's audial, "...should I activate the switch every time you serve a client?"

The online spike, Lockdown's voice, his digits between Sunstreaker's legs. Everything was too much. The yellow mech felt his self-control was slipping away, along with his dignity and pride. He bit his lips harder, to hold back a moan as Lockdown's digits caressing his valve cover. Every bit of himself shattered when the black and green mech bit his helm fin and forcefully pressed him face down on the hard berth and lift his aft up in the air. Both of his cover uncontrollably opened, revealing a fully pressurized spike and a dripping valve asking to be filled.

Lockdown hummed in enjoyment, before easing a digit into the quivering valve, "If I hear one more complaint about you, then... well, I guess you already knew what is going to happen. Now, let's see if you are ready to serve the clients, you will have a very important mech in a couple of megacycles," another digit joined with the first one, scissoring the wet valve.

It was really horrible and shameful, beyond any words to describe.

Meanwhile, in Kaon Arena...

"Sideswipe! Focus!"

Ironhide yelled at the red mech from the observation area in backstage of the arena. The old mech had noticed how lagging and distracted Sideswipe had become after the match had gone through a couple of cycles. For Primus's sake, the challenger today wasn't even fully trained! And yet Sideswipe had let him land a hard punch right on his faceplate, even experienced gladiators had troubles getting close to the red mech, let along successfully hit him.

Did this have anything to do with his mood-swing? the old mech thought.

Ironhide remembered Sideswipe told him about his mood-swing, and how it had gotten worse lately. He wished that he could do something to help the gladiator but honestly he had no ideas how, or even why Sideswipe was like that. He had tried asking around, doctors, friends, other gladiators, none could give him an answer on his student's condition. The crowd also went wild after seeing Sideswipe got hit, cheering on their favourite red gladiator. They had bet good Credits on him and it would put them in a sore spot if he lost to a newbie.

Sideswipe shook his helm, trying to clear the dizziness of the attack. His optics fixed on his challenger today, a much more smaller and younger mech than he was, having a dull grey paint job and scarred faceplate. The mech was surely inexperienced, but no doubt had potentials. But that didn't excuse for Sideswipe's distraction. The red mech had been so sure that this match wouldn't last long, and he still held on to that thinking when his energon blade sliced the opponent's metal mace in half.

That was until he felt charge shot through his frame. And his spark felt heavy with the feelings of sudden pain, shame and fear. How could he be horny and scared at the same time? In a match? With a new challenger he had never met before?

"Slag, slag, slag...," Sideswipe mumbled, trying to press down the awkward feelings. At the same time, the challenger attacked again, rushed toward him in an attempt to push him down and hopefully disarm him. Sideswipe let out a groan, trying to overwhelm the feelings of his spark by his own rage and determination. The gladiator immediately moved aside right at the moment the small challenger was still jumping on mid-air. Before the opponent could recover from his surprise, Sideswipe kicked his knee up at the abdomen plating of the mech, sending him flying backward and landed hard on the ground. Once again, the crowd went wild.

Sideswipe moved quickly, pressing down his energon blade at the throat of the challenger, "You know the rule of the Arena. You yield and I'll spare your spark. Be stubborn and I'll have to end you now. Although I must say you have potentials, lose today and win some other day maybe?" He said, giving the mech a sly grin.

The challenger looked up at him, groaning in pain and anger, "Fine," he said after the few kliks, "I yield."

The Arena showered in cheer and victory cries for the red gladiator, who just threw his blade away and left the fighting area, a fist held high and let himself bath in the adoration of the crowd. His rage had gone, replacing by pride and self-satisfaction of the sweet victory, yet the negative feelings of his spark were still there.

"Sideswipe, you did good! You scare me for a moment, you slagger!" Ironhide ran to him after the red mech had made it to the backstage. The smile on his faceplate vanished as he caught the distress in Sideswipe's blue optics. Before he could move closer to the mech, Sideswipe had run toward the washrack. "Later, 'Hide!" he yelled, voice cracking up, leaving a very confused and worried old mech.

Slag slag slag!

Sideswipe mentally screamed as he ran into the washrack, slamming the door shut behind him. The charge was still there, so was the pain, the shame. What the frag was wrong with him? "Fraaaag..." Sideswipe groaned in frustration, a servo pressed down his chestplate, right above his pulsing spark. He leaned against the wall, legs slightly spread as he opened his codpiece, revealing a fully pressurized spike. Still keeping a servo on his chassis, the other servo moved down to stroke the hard spike. He offlined his optics, resting his helm against the wall, venting hard while his servo continued to pump up and down on the spike. He tried to imagine a pair of spread legs and a nicely stretched, leaking valve in his processor. His digits curled at the tip of his member, gripping it hard before moving down to stroke its base, trying to picture it being buried into a hot mouth, wrapping around by an experienced glossa or a wet, clenching valve that kept sucking him in.

Finally after a while he got his sweet release as overload invaded his frame, he moaned softly as silvery pink transfluid escaped the tip of his spike, coating the shaky servo and dripping down onto the floor beneath. The gladiator just stood there a while, to let his frame cool down before onlining his optics, servo eased the spike back to its housing and shut the codpiece tight. Letting out a groan, Sideswipe stood up, washing his transfluid-covered servo before looking up to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He looked horrible, under-charged, optics shone dimly and faceplate covered in dust and dry energon from the last punch. His optics looked down at his chestplate, mumbling at the spark beneath, "You okay in there, bud?"

His spark sent a pulse of reassurance and regret, as if it was trying to apologize to him. Or it was simply Sideswipe was losing his CPU.

"Sides!" Ironhide's voice woke the red mech from his pondering, "Is everything okay?". The gladiator sighed, walking away from the mirror and left the washrack. The sight of the worried old mech was presented before his optics, "I'm fine, 'Hide," he said, trying to smile.

"No, you're not. You are lagging out there."

"Hey, I won, like I always do! No need to worry! I'm pretty sure this mood-swing will get better," Sideswipe laughed, gently hit Ironhide's shoulder.

The old mech rolled his optics and about to say something before Sideswipe spoke up again, "You know, that mech was pretty good. Hopefully he will find a suitable Battlemaster to train him."

Battlemasters were gladiators' trainers and managers, teaching them how to fight and managing their battle schedules and challenges. They were usually funded by nobles to train mechs to fight. And in return, the nobles would win Credits from the bets they made on strong gladiators. The Battlemaster selected the mechs themselves and only accepted those with potentials, usually without charge. Although in some places, like in Tarn, anyone who wished to be trained had to pay Credits for them. Ironhide had adopted Sideswipe when he was still a sparkling, even before he had become a Battlemaster. For that reason their relationship was not simply trainer-student but also being family. Many of Ironhide's students had left on their own after the old mech retired, but Sideswipe still stayed with him because according to the young gladiator, not only he was his adopted sparkling but also Ironhide would be bored out of his processor if he wasn't around to annoy him.

"Not me, you know I'm retired. You are my last student. I have had enough with you stubborn, hot-headed younglings," Ironhide grumbled.

"And mood-swing," Sideswipe added with a small laugh.

"Yeah, that too."

"C'mon, you still love me," Sideswipe groaned, pretending to act like a sparkling.

Ironhide laughed and shook his helm, "You know what you need? A good laid."

The smile on Sideswipe's face vanished almost immediately. Ironhide pull out a datapad from his subspace, checking something and not looking at his student, "I have already booked you an appointment at the Nuts 'n' Screws. With their finest pleasure mech, no less. So get out, get your reward Credits, get some rest and clean that faceplate nice and clean and then get your aft there."

"Ironhide, I..."

"Don't," Ironhide raise a servo, stopping Sideswipe from saying anything, "I spent my Credits to help you get laid, so don't even think of refusing this. You look horrible, you act horrible, your moods are horrible. So get there and let this mech fix you," he said as he handed Sideswipe the datapad.

Sideswipe looked at Ironhide, then at the datapad. Was that really what he wanted? To unwind? There were reasons why he didn't like and didn't want to go to brothels and frag an unknown mech. It wasn't that he hadn't done that before, but he had been too young and arrogant back then. The last time he went to a brothel...

Well, let's just say things didn't end well.

"Hey, Sides," Sideswipe looked up when he heard Ironhide called his designation, "It's gonna be alright."

Sidewipe didn't reply, optics still looked at the datapad and the designation of the mech that was dubbed "the finest, most gorgeous mech in the Nuts 'n' Screws". Not that all of these things mattered to him, but to refuse Ironhide's offer seemed like bad thing to do.

Yeah, maybe just this once.

"Alright, 'Hide. I'm off to see this mech."

A couple of megacycles later in the Nuts 'n' Screws...

It had been a long time since the last time Sunstreaker drew.

The sketchpad in one servo, the pen in other, Sunstreaker found peace whenever he dedicated himself for the act of art. There weren't many things to draw around here, though, so most of his sketches came from his memories. There was one time he had drawn his imagination of his twin brother, and Lockdown laughed and mocked him of being so vain that he had to draw himself. Sunstreaker didn't even bother explaining to him. The image of the street of Iacon played back and forth in his processor as he tried to do a nice landscape of it. Iacon, the city where he grew up, the city where he had the most wonderful life until he left it to chase after his twin's identity. How he wanted to return to Iacon. But he had told him - his caretaker, his only real friend in Iacon that he wouldn't return home until he found his brother. Sunstreaker wondered how that old mech was doing back in Iacon.

The unlocking sound from his quarter's door made him look up from the sketchpad, then he remembered. Lockdown had informed him that he would have to serve an important client, but he didn't let him know his designation. The first rule of any brothels on Cybertron always was protecting the clients' identities, so the pleasure mechs weren't allowed to know who they served. But Lockdown said that Sunstreaker would recognize the mech as soon as he saw him anyway.

Sunstreaker didn't care. He just wanted this to be over soon.

A couple of kliks later and the door opened. Presented before Sunstreaker's widened optics was a tall mech with black helm, flashy red paint job covered the strong frame, blue optics brightened his handsome face. The client seemed to be surprised as he was, just kept standing in one place, ignoring the shutting door behind his back. The two mechs locked optics as the awkward silence went on.

"Well... they weren't joking when they said 'the most gorgeous mech' in this place," the red mech smiled, finally being the first to break the ice.

Sideswipe.

-To be continued-

If you're seeing this line, thank you for reading til the end!