Retired

Being thrown around by his twin was nothing new, and falling to his knees against his on berth as a result was better than being slammed into walls or - that one time - stumbling right off the edge of a cliff. Ratchet had been pissed. He curled his digits against the padding and loosened his armor to try to expel as much heat as he could. Sunstreaker was pushing so much through the bond that Sideswipe couldn’t tell what arousal was his own and what was his brother’s. It was too much work to sort it out in the moment anyway.

He gave a low whine and shifted his knees apart, metal scraping on the floor harshly, but he ignored that in favor of sliding his valve cover open, gasping softly as the simple ‘snic’ of the panel opening felt like fire on his systems. He tried to push some of Sunstreaker’s arousal and need away so he could focus better, shifting his hips back for the golden twin and turning his head to try seeking him out once more. He was in the room, but somehow the light of Sideswipe’s optics couldn’t seem to touch him.

The questioning little brush was met with a violent zap of electricity, Sunstreaker concentrating all his built-up, frustrated charge on his brother. "Turn over." He wanted his twin to know exactly how much it hurt Sunstreaker, how much self-control it took from him to be able to do this, hold himself off this long.

But surprisingly, in some things the impulsive, violent brother's hold of himself seemed to be nearly endless. This was one of those things. Mostly everything related to interfacing was, actually. His drive for that carnal act may have been through the roof majority of the time, but he could and had held himself from anything of the kind for long, long periods of time, when it was useful that way. It was almost spooky.

What wasn't he willing and capable of doing to get something he wanted, though.

He knocked back the rest of his energon and slid out of his booth, ignoring the mechs watching him and dancing around Bluestreak. He’d probably make it up to the poor sniper later, but he didn’t want anyone but Sunstreaker touching him right now, and he knew that if anyone did, his twin would know, and it wouldn’t end well for anyone if he thought Sideswipe had entertained thoughts of someone else with the bond so full of want.

It wasn’t often that Sunstreaker actually desired him like this. Yes, they fragged, and often too. But the reasons were usually anything from boredom to jealousy to simply reaffirming existence, and a thousand more between. Sideswipe could count on his servos the number of times that Sunstreaker had lured him into berth because he wanted him, rather than simply because he was there.

He moved through the halls as fast as he could without Prowl stopping him for reckless behavior, and palmed at the controls for their quarters demandingly. The door took too long to open, in his opinion, and then he was in darkness, the soft blue glow of his optics seeking out his twin’s yellow, pedes carrying him that way. He could feel the heat radiating off his twin, and pictured how he’d gotten himself so revved up, fans kicking to a higher setting the longer he thought about it.

And then Sunstreaker was gone, the light of his optics as well as the sounds of his engine and frame. In the bond, he veiled himself, but just for a short moment. Enough to make a surprise out of it.

Because he didn't want Sideswipe to know what was going to happen next, not at any point today.

Besides, he had always been much more at home in the unforgiving, pitch black darkness their quarters were now drowned in. And they would stay dark for as long as he wanted them to.

So he disappeared, in that complete lack of light, for a brief moment. Just enough for Sideswipe to disorient himself, be set wonderfully off balance, because Sunstreaker was not where he had been just a second ago. He couldn't see any more than his twin could, but that didn't hinder him, he knew the best combination of sensors to be used. He wasn't lost, and quickly he had circled behind Sideswipe. Two arms wrapped around the red frame, one servo covering his mouth, a hot vent right next to his audial. "Quiet."

Sunstreaker's engine gave a rev after a whispering vocalizer had delivered the warning and order, and then he had thrown his brother against the red twin's berth. Not on it, he didn't want Sideswipe on it, just against it.

Sunstreaker didn't follow right away, lingering where he was, again giving minimal hints to his location of the moment. "Spread your legs, open your cover." Not like Sideswipe needed to know.

Oh but Sunstreaker was burning, the effort to keep his fans, vents and engine quiet physically painful. But didn't that only excite him further, and he freely allowed all of that agonizing need to cascade through their bond. Sideswipe deserved to feel it too.

Deserved to be as hot as he was.

It had been a while since Sideswipe had seen or heard anything from his twin, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that, or whether it was a good or bad thing.

On the one servo, it meant that his brother wasn’t get into fights, trying to kill their allies, or getting himself thrown in the brig for any reason, nor had anyone done anything to frag him off. On the other servo, it possibly meant that Sunstreaker was biding his time or planning something big.

It wasn’t that he was normally concerned about such things. Sunstreaker wasn’t a trouble maker by any means, not like him. But there was a feeling through the bond that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and he wasn’t sure if something big was coming, or if Sunstreaker just needed new art supplies.

Either way, Sideswipe didn’t want to get caught off guard for any reason, so he was reviewing the last week, trying to figure out if anything had changed. He couldn’t think of anything significant, and as he sat and sipped at his energon, thinking hard, a feeling began to prickle under his plating, slowly building. It was one thay he recognized well enough, though he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Drinking energon wasn’t a particularly arousing activity for him, not by itself anyway.

Another flash of heat and want crossed through the bond, this time unveiled and anything but subtle. There was also everything Sideswipe needed to know for the location. In their quarters.

Quarters that, at the moment, held no light bar the dim, darkened glow of Sunstreaker's optics. His fans were whirring, frame burning, interface array aching, but he was hardly out of control. And it was self-caused, all of it.

He was in control, and he planned to stay in control.

But that wasn't anything he let Sideswipe know. No, all Sideswipe had to know was that his twin wanted him, and all Sideswipe needed to be was wet and ready and equally hot.

He didn't need to know what exactly Sunstreaker was planning for him. He never needed to, really, it never mattered. Whether he knew or not, it would happen. If he knew he could've decided if he liked it or not. But that didn't matter either.

It was going to happen anyway, and generally things ran much smoother when no one put up any unnecessary fight.

Enjoying Sideswipe, because the mech was his tp enjoy. His twin, the one his spark pulsed for, the one with such benefits and privileges in life no one else could even dream of.

Because Sunstreaker only ever gave those to his brother.

He demanded, but that didn’t mean he never gave.

"Treasure indeed," the yellow twin murmured as he broke the kiss, stroking one of his brother’s horns in lazy motions. "I couldn’t have anyone better. Beautiful, smart, mine.” That was important.

Wrapping his arms around his twin, Sunstreaker rolled them to lay side by side on the berth, going quiet as he focused on listening to the quiet creak and groan of their ship. The gentle sway as it rocked where it was docked.

It would’ve been a perfect place to say ‘I love you’, but Sunstreaker didn’t say it. He would’ve not meant it. Couldn’t mean it. So instead he simply pulsed his possessive, objectifying affection over their bond, optics slowly dimming as he played with his twin’s horn and shoulder.

"I’m lucky," to have you.

He didn’t say I love you either. He knew it wouldnt be enough anyway, and the knowledge that Sunstreaker wouldn’t repeat it back kept him from saying it more than rarely. He felt the spark pulses, the possessiveness, and relaxed into it. This, they both understood. He sent back his submission, respect, adoration, desire to please and obey. All things that would please Sunstreaker the way his praises pleased Sideswipe.

Theirs was a dangerous sort of love. One side possessive, one side devoted. It would end with tears and pain and death - but didn’t all things?

Sideswipe’s optics dimmed, recharge protocols initiating, processor sopothed by the rocking of the ship. He was home and loved, in his twin’s twisted way, and that was all that mattered as he sank into a blissful recharge. Tomorrow he would leave, sent away to safety. He would guard Sunstreaker’s scent in this room jealously until it was gone on its own. “Don’t die,” he murmured sleepily. “Or I’ll kick your aft in the Well.”

When Sunstreaker nodded, his cooling fans stuttered. He shivered under Sunstreaker’s light touches, bit back moans at their firm strength, the subtle claim. He felt the brush off their bond and opened his end for Sunstreaker to see all. He intended no deceit, no betrayal. Only craved a claiming of a different manner than normal.

His frame relaxed at Sunstreaker’s permission, and he listened to his warning. He shuddered when Sunstreaker gripped his jaw, melted into his whispered threat. “I’m yours, Captain,” he murmured. Sunstreaker’s twin, brother, property, toy. It had always been that way, and he was happy with it. “I would never allow another mech to steal any of your treasure. I spread my legs for no one but you. I wouldn’t dare allow another.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t dare to want another.”

Enjoying Sideswipe, because the mech was his tp enjoy. His twin, the one his spark pulsed for, the one with such benefits and privileges in life no one else could even dream of.

Because Sunstreaker only ever gave those to his brother.

He demanded, but that didn't mean he never gave.

"Treasure indeed," the yellow twin murmured as he broke the kiss, stroking one of his brother's horns in lazy motions. "I couldn't have anyone better. Beautiful, smart, mine." That was important.

Wrapping his arms around his twin, Sunstreaker rolled them to lay side by side on the berth, going quiet as he focused on listening to the quiet creak and groan of their ship. The gentle sway as it rocked where it was docked.

It would've been a perfect place to say 'I love you', but Sunstreaker didn't say it. He would've not meant it. Couldn't mean it. So instead he simply pulsed his possessive, objectifying affection over their bond, optics slowly dimming as he played with his twin's horn and shoulder.

"I'm lucky," to have you.

It was a simple game, and they would both know that it was a lie.

But for Sideswipe, it was as close to real as he could safely get. He’d thought, sometimes, about seeking out other lovers, sometimes ones who were gentler, sometimes ones who were bigger or stronger than Sunstreaker. He wasn’t sure any mech like that existed. He didn’t know why he thought of it, why the craving crossed his mind now and then. Sunstreaker could never be less than perfect for him, but there were times he wanted something… Different.

But he had half agreed to it already, hadn't he? If by simply listening. Why did he ever listen

It was his twin, of course he listened. His other half.

He rumbled quietly to Sideswipe's gentle touches, making his dislike toward this idea known with the pulse of his spark. He wasn't comfortable with it. He didn't want it.

It was Sideswipe though.

He was going to allow it.

So the Captain nodded, slowly, running his servos from the red mech's shoulders, down his sides, to his hips, touching all that was his with firm strokes. Intense yellow optics studied Sideswipe's face in the dim lught of the cabin, spark brushing to find any trace of deceit in his brother.

He was playing a very dangerous game, his twin. "As you wish," Sunstreaker said, his servo moving up along Sideswipe's spinal strut and to his neck, softly rubbing at the cables there. He did like the idea of getting to show everyone just what happened when you tried to taken something of his. What happened when Sideswipe steppes out of line.

"But if he takes you..." Sunstreaker's optics didn't blink or waver from their stare at his twin's gaze, his digis slowly slipping around Sideswipe's helm. "...If you make that underestimation..." Or betray me, it didn't matter which one, not to him. Sideswipe would be spoiled in any case. Good for nothing.

He caught his brother's jaw in his grasp, tight, but kindly so, gently running his thumb over the red twin's lips.

All his.

And what would he do if that would change?

Sunstreaker's voice dropped into a quiet whisper, his expression unchanging as he delivered his threat, "I will destroy you."

Sideswipe stretched himself lazily over Sunstreaker’s chassis, pressing little kisses along the metal there, knowing Sunstreaker would only barely be able to feel them. He dragged his digits down Sunstreaker’s sides, teasing at the seams. 

"I’m getting bored. I can’t play with the crew because you might take it wrong and kill them. And I can’t always play with you because you’re too busy or not in the mood or you want to play your games.” He dug claws in hard at that. “I want to play one of my games next.”

He looked up from Sunstreaker’s abdominal plating, optics dark with a danger that only came out to play sometimes. He was waiting, to see if Sunstreaker would protest, shut him down, refuse to let him have his games.

It happened, sometimes.

His brother did have a lovely frame, and Sunstreaker could always appreciate aesthetics.

A hiss and a grunt broke from the yellow captain at the sudden stab of claws, but he didn't complain. His expression, that mild curiosity, didn't change when Sideswipe looked up. Seeing if he would get the permission, as usual. After all, if Sunstreaker didn't give it, and you didn't wait to see if he'd give it, bad things easily happened.

But this time...

Go ahead.

Although….

Sideswipe shifted, tightening his hold on Sunstreaker before pushing hard, rolling them over. “Hey. We should play a game when we’re together again.”

They hadn’t played games in a long time, too busy with the theft and the murder and Sunstreaker’s favorite, fragging and scrapping buymechs (and femmes). Sideswipe pranked the crew now and then, but some of the rougher crewmechs didn’t take well to it, and the ones who helped out were under constant scrutiny by Sunstreaker, who was convinced they all - especially Jazz - had a thing for Sideswipe.

That was why they usually stuck to Sunstreaker's amusements.

And it wasn't like Sideswipe couldn't amuse himself by terrorizing the crew, even if that was in different manner than how Sunstreaker did it. As long as Sideswipe didn't cripple the whole ship, Sunstreaker didn't care too much what was going on.

Except when Sideswipe wasn't doing his devilish deeds by himself.

"You’re always number one for me, Streaker. But I’m glad of your possessiveness."

Deactivation?

It was a very real option for him if he wanted to teach a lesson to someone. Even if that someone was his own brother whose death would mean his own end as well.

A little less drastic included utter removal of Sideswipe's interfacing capabilities. Of course that would mean Sunstreaker wouldn't be able to interface with him either, but that was a price the golden captain was willing to pay.

Sideswipe was his.

And then it was just him and his thoughts, and the warm, cozy and comfy frame of his brother's.