Author's Notes - Ratchet/Mikaela/Optimus and possible Sam/Sideswipe. Let me know what you think ;) We're nearing endgame now. Who wants a sequel? I have ideas ;)

Chapter 7 – Truine

Mikaela stretched like a languid pussycat, the warm, smooth length of her body pressing into Prime's. She wrapped her hands around the bars of the headboard and Optimus' optics flickered online to take in the expanse of gloriously lithe, soft human. He felt his circuits sizzle into life, interface protocols cycling up lines of code that until Ratchet had been ignored for years. His backup fans performed a helpful self diagnostic, and his main coolant systems flagged up a series of confirmations in the event he decided to thoroughly overheat. As Mikaela rolled into him, snuggling close, and the smell of her skin and hair filled his nose, he realised he wanted nothing more than to test his coolant systems to breaking point.

He wrapped warm, strong arms around Mikaela. She sighed softly as he sealed a hot mouth over her pulsing throat. Mikaela moaned when he moved to her ear, sucking on the lobe, swirling that smooth, silver tongue around the hole, promising other, deeper things to come.

'Ohhh-' she breathed, fingers sliding under his already relaxed armour to touch circuits and sensitive knots of wiring, which carried too much tension at the best of times. His rumbling moan vibrated through her bones as he pulled her in closer, and Mikaela wrapped a leg around his hips.

'Ratchet is going to be fretting,' Optimus rumbled, sliding a hand down her body to grip her arse and pull her in suggestively. Mikaela shivered under the sensation of voice and lips.

'I know,' she turned her head to kiss his metal lips, her long fingers toying with the spires on his head armour. Prime shuddered, his spike suddenly aching, pressurised behind its panel. 'We could just call him...have him come over,' she smirked.

Prime slid a huge, blue hand into her hair and moaned softly when she reached down to brush small, hot fingers over his burning panel.

'You make a persuasive -ah!-' he stalled when she wrapped her hand around his spike, '-argument-' he gave up trying as she ducked below the covers.

'I do, don't I? I've got visions of you up one hole, Ratch in the other...'

'Oh Primus-' Optimus moaned when she licked the tip, and took his spike into her mouth. 'Though it might arouse suspicion-' his intakes shuttered, 'two well know autobots parked up outside your flat.'

She gave a little hum of agreement, and his sensors picked up the vibration. Prime resisted the urge to thrust into her mouth, all too aware that flesh could offer little resistance to solid state holographic metal. He wrapped one hand around the bed frame and buried the other in her hair as she sucked him, swirling that burning little tongue around the head. He couldn't hold back a moan as she slid small, hot fingers into the cracks in his armour, tickling the wiring in his thighs.

Mikaela found the line and curves of his protoform with gentle fingers, then tracing her way up, slipped fingers behind his interface panel. Optimus moaned, thrusting into her mouth. Mikaela breathed in the smell of machine parts and cybertronian lubricants. It was a smell she equated with sex, or more specifically, with Optimus writhing and moaning beneath her. She released his spike long enough to say;

'Open a comm to Ratchet. Let him listen.'

'He'll be in the control tower, probably on duty by now-'

'I know. Comm him anyway.'

Optimus wondered if he'd just found Valhalla as he hailed Ratchet's private frequency, then utilising processing space he was sure he must be borrowing from someone else, routed the open connection through his speakers so that she could hear the reaction. When the spark bond opened, brushing sensation against Ratchet's receptors, there was a sudden noise of surprise.

Mikaela felt the tingle of the open connection, and the sense that Ratchet and Optimus were both suddenly very close to her. She could hear the sound of machinery from Ratchet's end, and fans to cool vast racks of computers. Then, as Mikaela sank Prime's spike deep into her throat and swallowed around the tip, the sound of somebody bumping into something- hard.

Ratchet cursed, and Mikaela could imagine him rubbing some part of him thus afflicted. She resisted the urge to smirk, and putting her mind to the task, listened as Ratchet hurriedly excused himself. She assumed he was in the control tower, but leaving fast, because the background voices faded. She imagined he'd just rounded a corner, maybe into a storage bay, and sure enough he tripped over something, cursed, and hissed down the line,

'You two are going to be the death of me! Haven't you had enough for one night? And on that note, where is my sugar, Sugar? I'm sure I have a human bonded somewhere...'

Mikaela snorted around Prime's cock.

'Are you feeling left out Ratchet?'

'Somewhat,' Ratchet teased, though Mikaela knew him well enough to know he wasn't upset. Just horny.

'You're next,' Mikaela promised. 'I'm going to make you wriggle, Ratchet. Gonna watch you spurt your cum all over my tits-'

'Holy Primus-' the medic hissed softly, and Mikaela sucked on Prime harder, using her tongue on the slit, let her fingers slide across Prime's squirming sensor net. Ratchet didn't sound breathless exactly, but he was definitely riled. 'Bastard pets of the unmaker, both of you-!.'

'Thank you,' Mikaela mumbled, around Prime.

'I'm truly flattered you think so-'

'Don't mess with me, Optimus Prime.'

'He really is worked up-' Optimus laughed, but it trailed into a hiss when Mikaela's fingers magnetised to his sensor net just below where a human navel would be. It sent hot, urgent tingles up his back strut. Ratchet continued to grouse.

'You do realise I was busy with Sideswipe, right? There are checks to be done? Inventory to complete...monthly physicals-'

Optimus crooked a finger at Mikaela. Come here. She obeyed, moving so she could straddle his face, then taking his spike into her mouth again, she all but cried out when he pushed his hot, silver tongue into her pussy.

'Oh, God, Optimus-' Ratchet's little outburst didn't go unnoticed. Mikaela moaned as Prime moved to her clit, and Ratchet must have stepped on something because he grunted.

'Can you feel her Ratchet?' Prime's fingers brushed up Mikaela's thighs, over her ass, then one began to rub her swollen little clit while he teased their bonded across the connection.

'Of course I can you...you-' he trailed off as Prime pushed a finger in and Mikaela moaned. 'Prima's aft-' Ratchet whimpered.

'Ratch, touch yourself. I want to listen to you,' Mikaela urged.

Far across the base, Ratchet's treacherous spark fluttered at the sound of the organic's voice. She was so good at pleading. Too good, actually. He checked right and left, but the store room was empty. Not that it would matter too much if he was seen – just the other day, Sunny and Sides had been caught fucking like rabbits a stone's throw from Prime's office, but Ratchet was a private mech at the best of times.

He put his back against the wall. He was more than surprised by the weight of response in Optimus, and how easily Ratchet could feel Mikaela through him. If those two hadn't bonded, Ratchet thought it was only a matter of time It was rare to find such a close energetic match as they had.

'Fine,' he'd been trying to sound resigned. He failed. It came out as an excited mechling getting a handjob, and Ratchet might have been embarrassed if Mikaela hadn't chosen that moment to deep throat Prime, while he stretched her pussy on three fingers. Ratchet gave up the fight with the sense that he hadn't even reached the battlefield, and began to stroke his spike.

Mikaela rocked her hips on Prime's fingers, her insides curling hot and needy as he applied his tongue to her clit. She could hear Ratchet's breathing, interspersed with little noises of pleasure as Prime fed him a continual stream of sensation. When she nibbled Prime's spike, Ratchet moaned. When she buried her fingers in the silky soft microfibres of Prime's sensor net, the big bot arched and Ratchet gasped.

As Prime's sensor net magnetised to her fingers, she tried to relax her mind and let the connection take hold. She knew she'd pick up some of it automatically, but it seemed the more she relaxed the clearer it got. The sensor net fibres registered her intention, and unfolding their microscopic hairs, slid between the cells of her skin and linked to her nerves.

Her hand tingled, then grew warm, and as the fibres fed in information, the heat travelled up her arm, bloomed across her chest and suddenly hit her brain. She gasped, suddenly drowning in sensations and emotions - hers, Primes, and by proxy, Ratchet across the spark bond. Prime's free hand rubbed gentle circles into her back, as if he sensed that this link was an onslaught to her human brain, and he wanted her to know she was safe, no matter how intense it felt.

Relaxing, she let her eyes slide closed and focused on the incoming feeling. Prime's hand, seemingly satisfied that she was going to stick with this, retreated to do far more pleasurable things to her nipples.

Mikaela was suspended in a sea of warm sensation, her brain just about keeping pace with the three-fold feedback that was echoing across the connection. The question hung in her head; didn't you need near on fifty percent skin contact to do this? Then as quickly as it rose, she shunted it aside, because present experienced proved it was possible, whether she understood it or not.

They were deep inside her. She could feel their presence in her mind. Ratchet's circuits wre alight and she sensed a desperate need in him to join physically, and soon. She made a mental note to get over there as soon as they were done, because she could see the flickering memories of the last time he and Prime had interfaced without their armour – the image of two glowing, black protoforms doing a horizontal tango might have been funny if it wasn't for the fact it was so damned hot – she wanted to see it again.

She could only imagine the fun she could have with Prime's unguarded structures. Then something warm, soft and entirely alien brushed against her awareness – and all thought stopped dead.

'I might not be able to touch you both,' Ratchet's voice in her mind was heady, his arousal matched only by the deviousness so obvious in his tone, 'but I can still make you both moan.'

'How...Oh God-' Mikaela did moan, unashamedly, because Ratchet began brushing pure pleasure against her mind.

It rushed across her skin like sentient wind. It was a breeze with a purpose, tickling a handful of erogenous zones first, then with a multi tasking ability that only Prime's cables could rival, kept pace easily with her rampant thoughts. Her body quivered around Prime's fingers, and Mikaela realised he'd stopped moving like she had.

Then it occurred to her that she wasn't just feeling what Ratchet was doing to her. She could feel Prime too. Ratchet was sending pulses through his sensor net, finding the sweet spots deep underneath his armour with the accuracy that only a medic could achieve. And Prime was moaning, no doubt wondering how Ratchet could unleash such a storm of sensation, and like Mikaela, not really caring enough to ask.

Climax came like a welcome surprise, almost too easy with Ratchet inside her head, whispering sweet nothings while the extension of his spark caressed, rubbed, teased and tortured every sweet spot she had. She was dimly aware of wrapping her hand around Prime's spike and she sucked him, and of swallowing hot, sticky fluid before Ratchet's pleasure lashed across the connection with enough force to send Mikaela tumbling happily into the dark.

000

Mikaela drifted back to consciousness slowly, with the half-cocked sensation of having been out a long time. By the time she managed to remember the events of the day before, she was already aware that something had changed. Not only was she delightfully warm inside and out, there was some wonderful, smooth sensation curling gently in her belly. So intense it could easily have switched to pain, but it never managed to get that far because she wasn't the only one monitoring it.

It was spreading throughout her body, filling her with the intense need for more, but she couldn't bring herself to move or even open her eyes. Then she felt something move against her, firm and hot, one in front and one behind. Forcing her eyelids open seemed to open the floodgates to sensation.

She was lying sandwiched between two holographic mechs, her legs wrapped around Ratchet, whose glowing blue eyes were the brightest thing in the room. Tiny, glowing filaments had pulled away from his black protoform to link to her skin, and she could feel him in her mind, wordless and warm in his presence.

::Ratchet-:: she breathed over the bond, before she realised it had become automatic. She'd never been so happy to see her sarcastic medic than she was now, and not just because one of his thin cables was snaked inside her, linking to her G-spot and doing things to her body she would never have imagined were possible. She squirmed. Even while asleep her body had responded to him eagerly. Her thighs were wet and her insides ached for more.

Ratchet said nothing in words, but she felt his question in her mind. It arrived like a little package, many-layered. Want me to stop, it asked, while reminding her just how much he loved her and wanted her, and that the warmth behind her was Optimus. As if he was privy to the communication, Prime placed a warm kiss on her neck

::No, God no...don't stop:: she sent, sliding a hand up his smooth, black skull to draw him down. ::I missed you like crazy.::

With her free hand, she searched for Prime and found him. His hand slid over her side to play with a nipple, his fingers slender without the armour. Mikaela felt suddenly honoured that they both trusted her enough to do this.

::It was Prime's idea:: Ratchet sent, his burning silver tongue teasing hers. ::He's a filthy sack rat, isn't he?::

::Sure is:: Mikaela grinned over the connection, and reaching for Prime took the opportunity to broadcast exactly what she felt for him. The answering burst was enough to make Mikaela's heart flip. Optimus pressed his hips into her ass and sealed a hot, eager mouth over her jugular. Mikaela moaned.

::What a way to wake up:: she sighed.

::We should do it more often:: Optimus rumbled, and Mikaela was pleased to hear his voice hadn't changed. ::Maybe with our real bodies, next time::

::When we're sure we won't hurt her:: Ratchet said pointedly, a tinge of worry colouring his presence in her mind.

Optimus' side of the connection took on a sense of sadness that Mikaela instantly wanted to heal. Ratchet seemed to feel the same way, from a different angle – he was less convinced it could work. She understood without having to ask – mixing two very aroused, very large alien robots with a squishy, vulnerable human was dangerous enough, but doing so in a three way orgy of wild sex? That was suicide. She felt a frisson of deep pain at that, the knowledge that her body would never be resilient enough to do what they could do. They'd never be able to relax for fear of hurting her.

Offering silent support, Ratchet kissed her lips tenderly while the cable inside her continued to pulse and tease. Her body squeezed it eagerly as Prime kissed a line down her shoulder. Prime pulsed a moment of positive anticipation into her mind, as if, despite Ratchet's warnings, he was willing to try. Mikaela smiled into Ratchet's deepening kiss, enthralled with the warm, silky smooth glossa that was playing with her tongue.

She spoke to both of them simultaneously, finding she could be aware of both connections at the same time. Words couldn't quite cut it, so she let her heart talk, and the result was the broadcast certainty that she didn't care how they were together, just that they were. Being close was enough. She'd love them regardless.

An answering surge came from both bots, and she felt warm inside in ways that had never happened since she was a little girl. She felt safe, she felt loved, and it went way beyond any connection she'd ever formed before. The gentle presences inside her seemed to understand – she'd been bought up to believe love was skin deep, or heart deep, but what they could unleash was soul deep, direct connection from soul to spark that filled a gaping hole in her heart. She wondered how she'd gone so long without it.

Past the point of forming words, or wanting to, she felt Prime's gentle, many layered promise. It said that with time and practise, she'd never feel this hole again, not because of their presence but because she could fill it for herself. Mikaela didn't quite believe him, but she did know he meant every word, whether it was possible or not, it was a good thought.

As Ratchet withdrew the cable that had been playing with her and replaced it with a thick, dripping spike, her body responded without any input from her brain. Her awareness seemed to have left her skull and sunk to her heart, where the connection glowed hottest. It cavorted in the fertile fields of the possibility which strung between the three, making Mikaela think this was just the beginning – and Prime especially knew it.

Then Prime pushed a gentle, wet finger into her arse. She squirmed, whimpering in a combination of pain and incredible pleasure. For every movement Prime made, pushing that finger in and out, Ratchet matched it with a smooth thrust until she forgot that it hurt altogether.

Simultaneously trying to meet Ratchet's movements and encourage Prime, while her mind revelled in a wash of Ratchet's amusement and hiking desire, she didn't care one jot if she looked silly, because she had Ratchet's spike and Prime's fingers and -oh hell- . She moaned into Ratchet's shoulder strut as Optimus pushed a thick, well lubricated spike into her arse. She heard her own cry as he thrust it in deep, gently at first and then more firmly as the bots found a rhythm that worked. The result was that she was never without a spike inside her.

Fine, glittering black hands, dotted with glowing energon pools stroked, tweaked, teased, encouraged her. Somebody pushed fingers into her hair, someone else -probably Prime, she guessed – sucked and nibbled her ear. As the glowing connection began to thrum, she felt the tickle of feedback and moaned helplessly. She could feel their pleasure echoing in her body, and she was aware that it was only a fraction she could sense. They were shielding her.

Conscious thought forms began to dissolve – Mikaela's own burning awareness began to fizz into an electric pleasure, her ability to think fading hard into blinding need. More, harder, faster, deeper, anything to get more of that feeling, more of that feedback. The three were pressed so tight Mikaela mused they might as well be one body. She knew she could have broken free of the tide if she'd really wanted to, and neither bot would stop her. But the idea of pulling away now was alien as they had seemed, that night they'd first met.

Then that heart connection began to pulse harder, and Mikaela knew something important was about to happen. The world went silent. Memory dissolved into awareness, the future was suddenly unimportant and she was caught in the eye of the storm, this powerful moment, aware of her own, odd duality.

While her body convulsed and twitched, moaned and responded to the ministrations of the metal lovers, her mind watched from on high, suddenly and completely aware that she was more than she'd assumed. She was pure awareness. And the presences that were inside her body and mind were awareness too, stepped down like main line voltage, squeezed and compressed, expressing through these vastly different bodies.

She was so busy analysing the implications of this mind numbing realisation, she forgot what she was doing, until critical mass forced her into an explosive climax that rocked her body and her mind, and blanked all hope of thought until all she could sense was darkness.

000

Consciousness returned slowly. If the first three way climax floored her, the second and third put her half way between exhaustion and rapture. Even riding Prime, her loose hair tangled around his encouraging hand, and the warmth of Ratchet at her back, a long, slender cable connected from his shoulder to the base of her neck, she didn't voice what she'd seen or felt the first time around.

It wasn't that she wanted to keep a secret precisely, but that she had no way to explain. It had changed her, that realisation – she felt newer, cleaner, aware in a way she'd never been before. She sensed that Prime knew something about it. His glowing optics were too aware, too focused, and she hoped she'd be able to put it into words to ask him.

The connection forged the first time round had grown, stronger, a three way web of awareness. She wondered if it would persist past tonight. She didn't want to think about losing it. Now that it was firmly installed, she wanted it there always, reminding her of love.

::Yesss, Mikaela-:: Optimus moaned, as she pushed her fingers into the sensor net at this bare throat, and Ratchet brushed a hot, soothing pleasure over her deep insides, heating up the deepest levels of her being.

Arching into the hot form behind, she felt Ratchet lick and kiss the back of her neck, his large – and surprisingly delicate medics hands holding her waist. Lost in the sensation, she didn't hear her phone ringing or care who it might be.

000

Sam slouched on the bar, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He couldn't help but feel despondent. Maybe he really had screwed it up with Mikaela. But the least she could do was talk to him about it. Had two years just washed under the bridge between them? Couldn't they even have a conversation?

He heaved a sigh. He'd tried so hard to deny it, but he wanted her back. Even if he had to prove he was worth her. At that moment, Sam became aware of somebody behind him and he turned to see none other than Sideswipe rolling up. The big mech saw Sam's face, and in a moment of deep understanding, he plotched down heavily and gave Sam a very searching look.

'What's up, little man?'

Sam smiled. Sideswipe's glowing blue optics held a measure of genuine concern. Sam was happy to see him, and not just because he was nice to look at.

'Lady troubles again,' Sam said. 'Nothing new. Dammit Sides, why can't I hang onto a girl?'

'Maybe you weren't meant to be tied down,' Sides grinned.

'Kind of wanted to be,' Sam admitted.

Sideswipe thought of Sunny, and imagined life without his wayward brother and lover. It wasn't a pretty picture. He scratched a tickling node in his neck and exhaled a slow, uneasy breath.

'More drink is probably in order,' he finally said.

Sam nodded.

'I think you're right.'

000

Optimus wrapped one holographic arm around Mikaela while he pushed hot, thick fingers into Ratchet's eager mouth. The medibots' optics seemed to glow with a sense of impending mischief. There was nothing like watching that lithe, tanned body ride another mech to get the circuits fizzing, and it was certainly having that effect on Ratchet.

Mikaela must have picked up on the medic's dual layered lust, sensing that Ratchet had something planned for his leader. She smirked, tipping her head back against Ratchet's.

'Next time, I want to watch you fuck him,' her gaze slid suggestively to Prime, whose optics lit with a flush of purple desire that he didn't even try to hide. 'You'd look fucking amazing spread open, Optimus.'

'Oh, he does,' Ratchet delivered a particularly deep thrust into her arse, making her gasp. 'He whimpers.'

'Christ that's hot-'

Ratchet chuckled, a low, dark sound that was completely at odds with his mostly gentle persona. It covered Mikaela's body in goose pimples, and Prime buried his fingers in Ratchet's exposed sensor net in response.

Mikaela pushed fingertips into the seams of Prime's armour, playing with the little filaments until the big bot shuddered, burying his thick spike as deep as it could go. She was sure she'd be off her feet for a week after this, but it was worth it. While Prime played with one ear, and Ratchet reached round to toy with her nipples, she found the transformation cog in Ratchet's knee and in a moment of almost superhuman concentration, succeeded in making him moan through the haze of sensation being inflicted on her body.

She was so busy enjoying the feeling of a spike in each hole, their hands wandering like an ambidextrous octopus, she missed the ringing of her phone again. Ratchet, however, picked it out amidst the grunts and moans and the squeaking of a thoroughly abused bed frame and poked Prime over their spark bond.

Prime, well accustomed to silent communication, gave no outward sign he'd heard anything untoward. Instead, he divided off a sector of his fizzing processors.

::Hack it:: Ratchet sent, his devious intention floating over the open connection loud and clear. ::I bet it's Sam::

::That would be utterly wrong and a violation of privacy to the highest degree::

::But it'd solve the problem::

Ratchet was pleased to find that Prime was already linking to the tiny, vibrating device, seeping his electromagnetic awareness into the circuits there. He read the incoming ID. Then, slipping seamlessly into the phone's operating language, he parsed an easy imperative to the tiny device, which obediently picked up the incoming call. Ratchet chose that moment to moan,

'Yes, Mikaela-' to something she was doing to his hip.

Only a medic's ears could have picked out the minute gasp of a shocked human on the other end. Prime pushed his spike in deep, thick, blue fingers holding the squirming, moaning girl in place, and laughing on a level that Mikaela couldn't yet pick up, Ratchet joined in. Prime groaned when she squeezed him, hard.

::She's going to disassemble us slowly:: Ratchet's amusement was clear, as he pinched Mikaela's nipples and listened to her gasp and cry his name.

::I'm sure she'll try. But it's probably for the best.::

::We're a couple of interfering old ninnies:: Ratchet said.

'Oh God, Ratchet, yes, harder!' Mikaela gasped, and Ratchet bit her neck hard enough to make her cry out. It was as if Primus himself was smiling on their trans-species union, he thought.

And then, as if it couldn't have been timed better, Mikaela came with a strangled cry, and the phone line clicked dead. Ratchet had to work hard not to laugh, and there was a glint in Optimus' eyes that betrayed a certain, un-Prime like enjoyment of the boys discomfort.

Holding the tiny, now more or less helpless body between them, both bots indulged a moment of protective awareness, which was broken only by the cascade of twofold orgasm. They collapsed together into a messy, damp heap.

000

Sam was shaking. His whole body had gone hot, and he had the biggest hard on he'd had since he started wanking. It was just Sod's law that he had nobody to poke, because he was positive he could go five rounds without stopping, after hearing Mikaela whimpering and moaning like that.

His horny mind didn't really register the full implications of the encounter until about forty minutes (and three orgasms) after the event. He knew he'd recognised that voice, but it was just too unlikely to add up to plausible truth. Now with a clear head, he realised that one horrible realisation wasn't enough for one day, and he sat still for a very long time, digesting the implications.

Maybe, he reasoned, Ratchet had persuaded Mikaela to let him watch her fuck someone? The medic was an avid observer of the human condition – and of every condition the human body was capable of manifesting. Surely Mikaela wasn't putting on a show for the curious autobot? But the alternative was even worse. She was fucking him. And not ONLY him!

Who would get involved in a shady three way with Ratchet and Mikaela, anyway? Sam thought about that statement, and realised that just about any bloke on base would have a go with Mikaela, and some of them would willingly tolerate the bot in the picture just to get at that gorgeous round butt and long, tanned legs.

It had to be someone with a deep voice, he thought, probably somebody he'd met because it had sounded so familiar. Not dissimilar to...

Oh. My. God.

He was suddenly, intensely grateful he was sitting down. Sam couldn't work it out, couldn't understand. How was such a thing even possible? What did they use for dicks...his mind was suddenly filed with a thoroughly inappropriate vision of Sideswipe, optics alight, his silver hand wrapped around a thick, ridged metal cock that had to be the work of a frustrated teenage imagination.

Sam blushed hard. His brain was too full of shame and arousal at his visions of Sideswipe, unable to really compute the idea that Ratchet and Prime seemed to be fucking Mikaela...together. With that disturbing though rattling around the inside of his skull, he resolved to get to the bottom of this if it killed him, not only for the sake of his unstable relationship with Mikaela, but because he had to know if Transformers could shag – and how.

Over the next few hours, Sam tried Mikaela's mobile multiple times. When he got nowhere, he tried her house phone, and for once the humorous answering machine message didn't even crack a smile. In the end, unable to sleep, he made his way to Hangar 10, where the dark was lit only by the few security lights still on, mainly for the benefit of the night guard and the odd, late waking soldier.

As he approached, he became slowly aware of noise. It was very low-level, barely audible actually, until you got the doorway. Sam slipped through the half open doors and into the dim space, realised that there was another light source in here, and it was fizzing and popping.

Behind a line of couches, something electrical must have come loose. He should check it out, he thought, in case it started a fire. He moved to look, and stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes learned first hand how abused his ears had felt earlier.

Sam stood and stared. There were sparks allright, but they weren't coming from a broken electric cable. They were bursting in increasing frequency and numbers from the joined sparks of two mechs he knew very well. Sam swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry and his cock instantly hard when he saw that Sunny was lying between Sideswipe's open legs, a massive, dripping metal cock thrust into what looked like a very tight robo-vag.

Sideswipe was keening, the range of the noises he was making stretching well above and below what Sam's ears could hear. Sunny was driving his dick into his brother in a relentless rhythm, and between them, their sparks glowed hotter and hotter like a young sun, going from red to blue, and edging white before Sam could find the willpower to draw in a breath.

His balls were tingling, cock suddenly hard and desperate for attention. Sunny made a noise half way between a groan and a choke, thrusting his thick, silver glossa into Sideswipe's mouth, and for long seconds Sam just stood there, amazed by the spectacle and brain fucked by the implications.

Then he grabbed the back of the sofa, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed. It happened so fast that Sam was barely aware of the shift until it was too late. Sunny was sitting dazed on the floor, panting, his enormous cock still hard and dripping, his spark chamber closed hastily and Sideswipe, who had always been the more volatile of the two, had set the point of a massive blade against Sam's chest.

Later, when Ratchet had explained spark merges to him, Sam would understand how lucky he'd been that Sideswipe hadn't killed him. For now, though, he stood nose to nose with the furious frontliner, hands raised in surrender and stiffy saying far too much about his sexual persuasions.

'Sides-' he whispered, trying to ascertain is Sideswipe was still home.

Sideswipe snarled, his glowing blue eyes considering the boy coldly, and then Sunny was on his feet, a big hand on Sideswipe's forearm. Sunny said something sharp in their language, and pulled on the arm, gesturing to his own chest. Sideswipe's cool eyes travelled south for a moment, lingered on the bulge in Sam's jeans. Then reluctantly, Sideswipe retracted his blades. Sam heaved a sigh of palpable relief.

He was about to leave, swiftly and silently, when a multiple vehicles howled to a stop outside, and the sound of transformation sequences made it clear that he was in for a rough ride, tonight.

Some time later, after Red Alert and Inferno had been despatched to return to their night guard, and Jazz had been sent on his way with the assurance that Sideswipe was quiet stable, thank you, just startled, and as Sides himself pointed out, he did have some self control, there were only the terror twins, Prowl and Sam left.

Prowl, optics ridges raised in healthy skepticism, broke the uncomfortable silence.

'Sam. I think we'll disturb Ratchet and make sure you're functioning correctly. Get in.'

'I'm not sure that's a good idea, Prowl. He's probably...sleeping-'

'Unlikely. I doubt he'll mind,' the open door waggled a little.

Sam recognised it for the command it was, and reluctantly climbed in. As he did, he shot a forlorn glance back at Sides, whose eyes met his for the briefest of moments, and within them Sam read a great deal of curiosity and concern, before he turned his attention to his brother. As Prowl pulled away, Sideswipe pushed Sunny down, his hand already diving between the smaller mech's trembling thighs.

Sam endured the ride inside Prowl feeling very uncomfortable. His erection wouldn't quite go down properly, and his skin was tingling. He couldn't remember the last time something had turned him on quite as much as seeing Sunny fucking Sides. And now, he suspected Prowl was very much aware of his arousal, and was probably thinking he was a dirty, sick person.

If Prowl was even aware of Sam's condition, he said nothing, only pulled up alongside medbay. Letting Sam out, he transformed and stood up. He passed a hand over the access panel, which much have read him as a senior officer and allowed him entrance. As soon as the doors ground up, Sam knew something was wrong. Prowl made a noise of surprise then promptly buried his face in his hand. Sam got the impression he was more amused and dismayed on Sam's behalf than genuinely disturbed.

'For the love of Prima-' he said.

'Oh my God-' Sam almost whimpered, thinking that his aching stiffy couldn't take much more.

Optimus was stretched out on the largest of the medical berths, chained hands and feet to prevent sudden movements. His optics were shuttered. He was moaning, softly, because his resized spike was being ridden expertly by a naked, glistening Mikaela. Kneeling between Prime's legs, Ratchet was apparently fucking Prime, the big mech's legs wrapped around his waist.

Sam stared. He stared at the way Prime rolled his head from side to side, he stared at the thick cable in Mikaela's arse, and another, glowing with tiny white filaments, linked into her spinal column. He took in the way Ratchet gripped the big bot's thighs, thrusting hard and deep, and when they paused as one unit, and turned to stare at their observers, he stared at their expressions of amusement, concern and abject horror.

Ratchet smirked. Mikaela blushed from top to toe. Prime wore an expression that could only be described as worry.

'Sam-' Optimus rumbled, as if trying to smooth the way before the inevitable crack.

Then Sam, blown away by the sight of his ex girlfriend riding the great Optimus Prime, his brain full of memories he knew he'd never get out, started to laugh. It wasn't that he found the vision particularly funny. In fact, all told the smells, the sights, the expression on their faces when they'd though nobody was looking was extremely hot – the laughter came from a deeper place, where he suddenly felt very let down. It was cackle like a witch, or break down. He picked the slightly less humiliating option.

Mikaela jumped off Prime and grabbed a sheet, wrapping it hastily around herself. Sam thought she might have fled then, if Ratchet hadn't scooped her up and held her close to his warm, vibrating chassis. Hiding her face in the big bot, she looked like she'd never want sex again.

Prime cut through the haze of realisation.

'Now might be a good time to untie me, Ratchet.'

'I like you where you are.'

Sam nearly died, his mirth reaching the point of red face and streaming eyes. And suddenly, he sat down because it was that or collapse.

'Ratchet-' Prime's voice was full of threat. Ratchet smirked and hit the control button. The chains fell away and Optimus sat up, rubbing his wrists. Sam was very, very grateful Prime had put his er...equipment...away or it was possible the young an would never look at a dick the same way again.

'Holy...fuck-' he gasped, burying his face in his hands, while Prowl tried very hard not to smile.

'Apparently it's not necessary to knock anymore,' Ratchet said pointedly.

Prowl straightened his face, more concerned with the Prime's reaction than Ratchet's. Optimus heaved a sigh, his eyes full of concern for Sam.

'Sam has had an eventful evening,' Prowl said, and immediately sent the data burst that would appraise both mechs of the situation. Prime's expression only grew more concerned.

'Sam, please, calm down-' he rumbled.

'Yes, Sam, do compose yourself,' Ratchet was grinning like the joker. 'It's only a bit of robot cock.'

'Jesus Ratchet-' Mikaela whispered.

'He's not shocked because of what we were doing. He's shocked because you were doing it with us,' Ratchet observed, quite insightfully.

'Sam,' Optimus approached him, but Sam held up a hand to stop him.

'No, don't. Please, I honestly can't take closeups right no after what I just saw.'

Optimus looked perplexed, but he said nothing of it.

'Sam, I can understand you must find this upsetting, but everything that's happened here was consensual...we Cybertronians have needs too-'

'Right!' Sam was only half laughing now, half sobbing with combined mirth and horror. 'Needs to have pretty girls ride you, needs to fuck your brother...'

'It's not just a sexual fix, Sam. Ratchet is Mikaela's bonded, and mine, we share an energetic link that's best enjoyed by pleasure-'

Sam shook his head, his eyes reading half confusion and half arousal.

'Sam, please try to understand, 'brother' is only a very loose translation on our world. Sunny and Sideswipe are not doing anything wrong. We Cybertronians don't place the same limits on pleasure that humankind do, but we do respect choice above all else, and Mikaela chose to be here tonight. Tell him, Mikaela.'

Mikaela, who'd been hiding in Ratchet finally lifted her head.

'It's true. Why shouldn't I?

Sam snorted. 'I don't know...the fact you're not even the same species might have something to do with it-'

'And?' Mikaela snapped, eyes gone dark with anger. 'What's that got to do with anything? You're happy to be rescued by aliens, risk your life for aliens, but making love to one is somehow wrong-'

'You didn't even have the decency to tell me!'

'Why should I?' she hissed. 'Maybe I was afraid you'd fly off the handle, and guess what, you freakin' did!'

'I dunno, I just thought three years might be worth more than ignoring all my attempts to talk to you, to work something out-'

'You don't get it, do you?' Mikaela felt her temper rear its ugly head. 'I don't WANT to work something out with you. It's OVER Sam. Permanently. I'm not coming back, so just...Let. It. Go.'

'I know!' Sam yelled, his eyes suddenly pink, 'you made that clear enough. I figured you might want to be friends. I obviously figured wrong.'

Sam was out of his seat and heading for the door before Mikaela could retort.

'Sam, wait-' Optimus called, but it was too late. The door slammed shut behind him and the big mech let out a sigh.

Mikaela sat back in ratchet's cupped hand, and before she'd even managed to bury her head in her hands, started to cry. Ratchet held her close, the thrum of his powerful engines a calming counterpart to the whirlwind of fresh wounds recently reopened. She sobbed like a little kid as Ratchet cupped her close, and the heady beat of his spark eventually calmed her tears, if not her heart.

000

By ten O clock the next night, Sam was probably more drunk than he'd ever been. The smell of whiskey was starting to make him want to hurl, and the prospect of having to get off his chair and walk was enough to make him wish he had wheels. When somebody sat down next to him and regarded him with amused blue optics, he managed to slur out 'Oh my God -Sides-' before he had to lean on the bar or pass out.

'Listen-' Sam tried to hold a meaningful conversation, 'I'm really sorry I...walked in...didn't mean to...fuck-'

'Sam,' Sideswipe considered reaching for him, but thought better of it.

'I was after a drink...Sides-'

'Seems you found one. One dozen, that is. Come on, you need to sleep it off, little man-'

'I need Mikaela-' Sam slurred.

'You ain't the first male to get his spark ripped out.'

'It fucking hurts, Sides-'

'It hurts whether your drunk or sober. Difference is when you're drunk you can't think straight.'

'Wadda ya mean I can think straight-' Sam swayed, 'I know what I want, I know what...what I like and I want...my girlfriend back and-' he leaned on Sideswipe's thick, silver thigh.

Sideswipe wasn't sure whether to support him or keep his hands off. Mainly because after witnessing Sam's reaction to them last night, he wasn't sure he could keep it all business and not regret it. Sam really was a pretty boy, and Sideswipe was curious. The mech glared at a group of nearby humans who had decided to take up ogling as a hobby, and at the lack of amusement on the Frontliner's face, they averted their sticky little eyes.

'Sides-' Sam said softly, gesturing to the big mech to come closer.

It was nigh on impossible for the Frontliner to get down to his level in this crowd, so Sides picked the human up, ignoring is warbling protestations and the way he gripped his delicate stomach, counting it as punishment for stupidity.

'What, Sam?'

'Do you want to fuck me...you won't believe what I saw last night after you guys-'

'What-?' Sideswipes eyes were like saucers, but the human had already passed out, slumped against his long, silver fingers.

Sideswipe eyed him, his slack, pale face and messy hair. He looked like a baby, out cold. Sideswipe sighed. Primus only knew how much he'd consumed, and Ratchet would have Sideswipe's spark if any harm came to the boy. Glancing resignedly at the high grade he'd been enjoying, he slugged the remainder, tossed the cube in the recycler, and set off with the unconscious Sam in his hand.

In the space of time between Hangar 10 and medbay, Sideswipe had ample time to consider all possible meanings to the humans words...Do you want to fuck me...why would he ask something like that? Sides came to the uneasy conclusion he was just drunk. That didn't stop a mental image permeating his skull, and as he rolled away from medbay, Ratchet's eyes on his back, he was entertaining thoughts of Sam's small, pale body, kneeling on his berth, whimpering around Sideswipes fingers, buried deep in his arse.

The Frontliner was somewhat disturbed, actually, that it was in there at all. And even more disturbed that he seemed to be enjoying it.

Stay tuned! I have a new job, so updates will be slower.