#noguncontrol

Today is the 27th anniversary of Ruby Ridge.

Look it up. Refresh your memory.

*Randy Weaver's 14 year old son, Samuel (pictured below), was shot in the back and killed by federal agents because the family dog (which they also killed) alerted him to something in the woods on the property. The US Marshals hiding in those woods never announced themselves.

These federal agents then attempted to murder Randy Weaver via sniper fire when he went out to get his son's dead body and his back was turned, but they missed the kill shot and hit him in the shoulder instead. Randy’s wife, Vicki, was murdered by FBI sniper Lon Horiuchi while holding her 10 month old baby.

He tasted his own energon.  In the daze of pleasure Deszaras had bit into his lip hard enough that it bled.  He hadn’t realised until he licked his lips in a hungry snarl ,  when he felt those hands grip his thighs harder and tugging them further apart.  He wonders if maybe ,   Megatron  thought  he’d  pop  his  head  off.    He laughs ,   choking off into a moan when he shifts the angle of his hips.  Every twitch and grind leaves his jaw slack ,   drool mixing with energon dripping down his chin.

He wonders how he must look ,   clawing at the wall in front of him ,   back arched ,   wings spread out ,   trembling and flailing to counterpoint his balance.  He must be quite a sight.   Not that Megatron could say anything about it.  He said quite enough already though it really was a shame.  Cause right now ,   it would do wonders.

“ Ah -”   He nearly hiccups when he lets out a gasp ,   a shudder trailing from his wings down his frame when something presses delightfully against his node.  For the third time that night ,   he’s close.  He rolls his hips again and tugs a servo out of the ridges he clawed in the wall to rub at his node desperately ,   wings flapping to keep him from falling forward as he chases that feeling once again.

Deszaras grows louder ,   thighs twitching and nearly snapping shut if it were not for the servos keeping them apart.  He shouts ,  wings taut and he nearly falls back when every inch of him is shaking and satisfied.   He doesn’t move until he he feels those lips move against him ,    and he twitches away ,   sensitive and done.

Easing off he relaxes next to Megatron with a laugh ,   pushing himself back up to lean on his elbow.  He reaches over to tap a claw against Megatron’s codpiece ,   smirking.

He wonders if it’s in his nature ,   to taunt his prey as though he was the one hunted.  To bait a challenge ,   for him or Megatron -    he didn’t know.  Not anymore.  He knew when given the chance ,   he’d leave everything behind.  Spread his wings again and follow himself.  He did so before ,   and there was nothing stopping him from doing the same again.  Except now ,   he was hesitating.  Deszaras was hesitating.

mine.

They had crossed another line.   Megatron   had crossed another line.  He grits his teeth ,   hanging onto every word.    Damn you.    It repeats in his head like a mantra ,   and he means it.   Because damn it.   Damn it all.  He wants the bastard to be greedy.  And the worst of it is now ,   despite his nature ,   a wretched part of him wants to stay.  Deszaras entertains the very thought ,   and it sends a jolt to his spark. 

‹     ... Thin ice ,  Megatron.    Best watch where you step.    ›      He turns on his video feed and leans in close ,   providing a good look at his toothy-fanged grin ,       ‹     If you’re not careful ,   I might just slip through your fingers again.    ›       There’s no room for deception here ,   not with their desires so open ,   so wanting.  And Deszaras wonders ,   what did he really want ?    It’s clear to him ,  when a laugh rumbles deep in his chest ,   treading further into dangerous waters ,   instead of just leaving it all behind with the simple push of a button.    you. i want you.