Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Frag," whispered Skywarp. 

Thundercracker froze. 

Skywarp's hushed curse hadn’t been of the fun variety. A 'frag-this-is-so-hot' sort of expletive. It was more along the lines of 'frag-I-should-have-updated-my-last will-and-testament-whilst I-still-had-the-chance' a flavour of swear. A bad one. 

Lying on his front with a rather large false spike lodged quite deeply up his rear port, Thundercracker thought it best not to make any sudden movements. 

"What's wrong?" He dared to ask. 

"Nothing." Skywarp reassured quickly. So quickly in fact, that it wasn't very reassuring at all. 

Thundercracker shifted. The false spike, an uncomfortable pressure in his port now that Skywarp wasn't sliding it back and forth over tingling sensors, slipped deeper. He stilled again. 

"Skywarp." 

"...Yeah?" 

Thundercracker swallowed, "Can you- Can you take that out for a second?" 

Skywarp, apparently no longer holding onto the end of the false spike (not a good sign), grabbed him by the hips to tilt his aft up, "Uh. Yeah. Sure. Just lemme-" 

Thundercracker stared at his pillow with growing concern as he felt Skywarp's fingers at the entrance of his port, dipping in, pulling him apart, wriggling with a slight sense of urgency- 

"You've lost it, haven't you?" Thundercracker whispered, tank rolling with dawning horror. 

"...I think I can get it." 

Thundercracker felt Skywarp's finger shove forward with a determined jab and- 

"You're pushing it deeper!" Thundercracker arched away in sudden panic, feeling the stupid thing nudge it's way further along his port tubing.  

"Frag," Skywarp hissed again and despite Thundercracker's clear attempts to get away, flipped him onto his back and shoved his thighs apart, pushing one leg back towards Thundercracker's chest, splaying him open.

Thundercracker didn’t fight for fear of worsening his predicament. His throat worked as he tried not to panic. "Can you see it?" 

Skywarp was studying him for a long while. 

"...I think we should call someone." 

Thundercracker's panic ballooned, "No." 

"Just Screamer-" 

Horror usurped the panic. "No! Primus, no!" 

"He might know how to get it out?!" Skywarp protested, "He's smart!" 

"Skywarp," Thundercracker felt close to hysterical tears. "Please. Please don't call Starscream." 

Skywarp was looking between Thundercracker's face and aft mournfully. "TC..." 

"If you've ever, even for a second, valued me as trine, as a friend, as your lover, don't call Starscream. I'm begging you." 

Skywarp called Starscream. 

It took Starscream so long to turn up Thundercracker was lulled into a false sense of hope that he wasn't going to come at all. But the universe had never missed out on an opportunity to embarrass Thundercracker beyond the limits of what even the sturdiest of Cybertronian’s were capable of enduring before, and it certainly wasn’t going to pass up so ripe an opportunity for humiliation that easily. 

So of course Starscream fragging-well showed up. 

And when he did, Thundercracker was (of course) still sprawled across the berth with all his panels wide open, held there by Skywarp's comforting but firm hands. 

Starscream took two steps inside the room, then registered the scene. 

"...This had better be a prank." He warned dangerously. 

"What makes you think that?" Skywarp asked, knelt with Thundercracker's entire array (still pressurised because there was great big fake spike up his aft) mere inches from his face. 

Thundercracker belatedly lowered a hand to cover his spike from Starscream’s critical gaze. 

"You said it was an emergency." Starscream glared. “I was in the middle of something.”

"It is an emergency. TC's aft ate my false spike.” Skywarp explained. “My favourite one." 

"It didn't eat it!" Thundercracker cried, mortified.  

"Sucked it right out of my hand," Skywarp continued. 

"You shoved it in too far!" 

"Why am I here?!" Starscream bellowed. “When you know I have no interest in the grip or suction of Thundercracker’s aft-hole!?”

Thundercracker hadn’t thought he could flush any deeper, but at this rate the heat from his cheeks was going to start melting his optics. He turned his gaze back to the ceiling and began to pray for a flash base-flood that might kill them all.

Skywarp smiled at Starscream sheepishly. "Do you think you can get it out? The fake spike?”

"No." 

"Screamer, c'mon!" Skywarp cried. "He's in pain." 

"I'm not." Thundercracker mumbled. It was only a little uncomfortable. Nothing compared to the devastating psychic damage this situation was inflicting on him. 

Skywarp looked him over skeptically, "You look like you're gonna cry." 

"I'm embarrassed!" 

"You should be!” Starscream snarled. “I don't care how well acquainted you two are with each others orifices, but you can keep me out of it! Go to the medbay, perverts." 

The thought of Hook and Scrapper and the rest of the Constructicon gestalt crowding around in the name of ‘medical interest’ to get a good, hard look at the inside of his aft was too much for Thundercracker. 

"Maybe it can just stay in there?” He suggested. "What do I need a rear port for anyway?" 

He looked up to see Starscream shoot him a look of such contempt and disappointment, it was as if he'd been possessed by the ghost of the Vosian palace governess of their youths.  

"It can't stay in there." Starscream growled. 

"He doesn't have to go to the medbay, does he?" Skywarp pleaded on his behalf. "Can't he just... push it out? Jump up and down, maybe?" 

"No." Starscream folded his arms impatiently. 

"What about your claws?" Skywarp's optics brightened with the sudden idea. "I bet they could-" 

At the prospect of his sensitive port-lining becoming victim to one of Starscream's most deadly accessories, Thundercracker yanked his legs free of Skywarp's grip and squeezed them back together, ignoring the horrid pressure of the foreign object up his port as he tried to scoot away.  

"No. No, thank you."  

"This is not my problem." Starscream told them both seriously. "It shouldn’t be my problem. But to save myself from the embarrassment of being openly associated with such stupidity, I suppose I can help-" 

"No claws." Thundercracker interrupted. 

"As if I would put my manicure anywhere near your filthy rear end!" Starscream snapped. "Stay there, don't move, and don't stick anything else in there." He glared at Skywarp. "I'll be back." 

Thundercracker let his helm thump back against the pillow, trying very hard not to clench around the pressure in his aft.

"If he comes back with a Constructicon, just stick a null ray up there and fire.” He told Skywarp. 

Starscream didn't return with a Constructicon. Instead, he came back with some scary looking medical forceps, and Megatron. 

Megatron. 

"Sir," Skywarp acknowledged swiftly, sliding off the berth to show their superior the appropriate amount deference, as if he was lined up for an inspection and their superior’s presence in their room was nothing out of the ordinary. 

Thundercracker didn't rise to greet him. Not because he had a fragging spike stuck up his aft and didn't dare stand, but mostly because his entire night was steadily twisting into some bizarre fever dream in which Starscream found it appropriate to invite their Supreme Commander over to watch him squirm and cringe as they struggled to wrestle a frag toy out of his butt.

It couldn’t possibly be reality. He was clearly having some sort of panic-induced hallucination. 

"He wants to watch," Starscream muttered when he saw Thundercracker's expression. Like that in any way justified him bringing the Decepticon High Commander into his quarters to witness perhaps the most degrading moment of his life (So far). 

“Didn’t know this was a spectator sport,” Thundercracker managed, so thoroughly humiliated he might as well indulge in back talk. 

Megatron didn’t respond as he crossed the room with stoic indifference, clearly above nonsense such as this. But not so above it that he wouldn’t take a look himself, of course. 

"It's in pretty deep, sir," Skywarp informed Megatron as the towering mech approached the berth behind Starscream. 

"So this is what my Elite Air Warriors do with themselves in their spare time." Megatron commented dryly, peering down at Thundercracker's hole with no regard for its owner’s dignity -something Thundercracker was absolutely going to raise a workplace grievance over. 

"He asked me to keep going," Skywarp added, clearly trying to deflect blame so his beloved leader wouldn't think less of him. "Harder, he said-" 

"I'm sorry." Thundercracker said loudly, before things could go any further. "Why is Megatron here?! Did you call him!?" 

"We had a meeting scheduled," Starscream muttered, sitting on the end of the berth and snapping his fingers at him. "Hurry up. Move down. Roll over. On your knees. Aft up." 

Thundercracker wondered how many shouted insults it would take to have Megatron loose his temper and blast him with his fusion cannon. 

"Seems pretty fragging late to have a meeting…" Skywarp said, glancing at a nearby chrono. 

"Shut up, Skywarp," Starscream hissed under his breath. "Thundercracker, do you want my help or would you rather someone like Bonecrusher fisted your aft-hole to get it out?”

There was no way the toy was coming out on it's own. Thundercracker knew it was either Starscream, with Megatron watching, or a heavy handed Constructicon, with the entire faction learning about it the next day. 

"When you're done, I’m going to need Soundwave to purge this whole night from my memory banks," he said, slowly shifting onto his front and rising onto his hands and knees. 

Starscream called Skywarp over, and Thundercracker felt his familiar fingers carefully pull him apart to expose him. Megatron made a vaguely interested noise, not unlike when he'd spot an Autobot weakness he could exploit against them in their next raid. Thundercracker’s cheeks were so hot he thought the paint on his face was going to melt off. 

"I can see it.” Starscream stated tonelessly. Something clicked, and then Thundercracker felt the chill of forceps. 

He winced. 

"Don't clench!" Starscream snapped. 

"It's not his fault, Screamer, he's always been pretty tight-" 

"Skywarp!" Thundercracker cried. 

"To the left, Starscream," Megatron was advising, sounding very close. 

Thundercracker shuttered his optics. He could feel movement back there, a stretch that was more uncomfortable because it wasn’t at all arousing, and then- 

"Got it." 

Thundercracker gasped as the intrusion was swiftly pulled free. The second it left his rear he rolled onto his back, hand flying to his poor abused port. 

Starscream was sat at the end of the berth, the false spike clutched in the forceps. He held it up for inspection. Megatron, too, was studying it with a raised brow. 

“Larger than I had expected.” Megatron absolutely did not need to voice that comment. 

With a sigh, Starscream extended the false spike to Skywarp. Skywarp took it from the forceps and slipped it back into his subspace. "Thanks." 

"We're not keeping it!" Thundercracker snapped, aching all over and hot with embarrassment and his spike was still hard and Megatron was just standing around tapping his pede impatiently because it might have been the middle of the night but he clearly had some plans with Starscream that his and Skywarp's idiotic mishap had interrupted. 

"Consider investing in a flared base," Megatron told them, taking Starscream by the upper arm and dragging to his pedes. “Let’s go.”

As they left, Thundercracker heard Starscream obnoxiously declare, "See why I don't like you sticking things up mine?" 

Megatron hummed as the door was shutting, "It would be difficult to get anything else in around that huge stick anyway." 

Now alone, Skywarp sat on the berth besides Thundercracker with a relieved sigh, "Told you Screamer was a good idea." 

A good idea? There had been no good ideas tonight.

Realising he was never going to emotionally recover from this, Thundercracker lifted his hands to cover his face. "Can you just service my spike and let me go to recharge?”

"Sure, Thunder," Skywarp, shamelessly immune to all forms of humiliation, smiled at him so dazzlingly, that despite the stress and frustration and indignity of everything that had happened, Thundercracker's spark did an enamoured little twirl in it’s casing.

Who needed good ideas with Skywarp around anyway?