Twin Ties Finale(?) Part 1
I put a question mark in the subject because I feel like there should be some kind of repercussions between Prowl and Sideswipe after this. The kind that simmers for a long while and nothing is said about it until there's an explosion... (congratulations, Okami, you have just given yourself another bunny. Know what this calls for? *apply desk to head, repeat as needed*) That, however could warrant its own fic. ^^; Like I need more to write. (Dear Jazz-muse, how about kicking awake that lazy Lamborghini so I can have an art break? My headvoices would love you for that, you know.)
I have a fluff bunny or two to get down, a few other things to do, then tackling Star Crossed. So, for the next few weeks, drabbles-maybe- and reposting stuff that is elsewhere, but not here (few as those may be).
Also, this is the part I can finally blame
__wilderness__ for. Yes, the sammich. Yay, sammich!
Final Stats: 19477 Words, 37 Pages
Title Twin Ties
Okami-vers Sticky Situations
Pairings Prowl/Sideswipe, Sideswipe/Prowl/Sunstreaker
Warnings The sticky has struck again! (once again, it's mechanical sticky), introducing new bits of anatomy to the bots, sex toys, NSFW?, bringing interfacing into the sticky-verse, *insert Prowl-butchering joke here*
Summary They finally talk. Then smut. Lots of smut. Enjoy the smut. :D
Master List
Part 1
(LJ says it's too big! Apologies for cluttering the Friends' List. )
Part 3
She stood before the first door on the right, doorwings stiff behind her. Her finger hovered over the chime, amazed she had gotten this far in without Sideswipe knowing she was there yet. The security guard who had caught them in the lift those few nights ago had instantly recognized her and allowed her in, pulling her aside to ask if there was anything he should know. He received her assurances that all was well with a disbelieving frown.
She wondered if he'd still be online, looking at the time displayed in her HUD. She had spent too long a time in the library, doing as Sunstreaker had asked, and looking for information on twins.
She shuttered her optics briefly and gathered her resolve.
The relationship of twins had never been brought up in council. Their situation never considered as there simply weren't enough twins sparked to warrant the concern. They couldn't even be considered a percentage of the population, there were that few of them.
Her finger pressed the chime, and she picked up it's pleasant sound from within the apartment.
The door slid open, and Sideswipe stared down at her in surprise, and no little aggravation. “What is it, this time, Prowl?”
She stiffened, doorwings lifting. “I thought you wanted to talk, Sideswipe.”
He stared down at her before standing to one side. She ducked inside, noticing the recent repairs on the doorframe. The limthzi crystals still sparkled across the wall, but the dancing lights didn’t relieve the anger that radiated from Sideswipe. He glared down at her, metal squealing as he clenched his fists.
Her doorwings rose higher, and her optics flared as she prepared herself for his rejection.
“Now you want to talk, Prowl? What's to stop you from running away again?” He finally crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his chin down.
She flicked her doorwings, and reached toward him, stopping just before her fingertips touched his shining chestplate, only to drop her hand to her side. “I can't handle things being thrown at me from out of subspace, Sideswipe! You know how my logic circuits are. They can't take the strain.”
He didn't relent his burning gaze, and her doorwings drooped under it.
“You know, Sunstreaker came in to the office today.”
His optics flashed and he stiffened. “Really.” He acted as though this didn't surprise him, but she knew him well enough to see the tightening of his hands tucked under his arms, the jerk of his head; he hadn't expected it.
“Yes. He came to apologize.”
That got a reaction.
“He did what?” Sideswipe's vocalizer glitched with surprise and his engine choked.
“He apologized.” She laughed at the slack expression on his face. “I had to reset all my processors when I heard it as well.” She tilted her head, looking at him from under her chevron. “I suppose this is unusual for him?”
“Sunny never apologizes, even I have a fragging hard time getting him to admit that he's done wrong.”
She dimmed her optics as she considerd this. She had no reason to disbelieve Sideswipe about this. Sunstreaker had certainly needed to apologize for his rather rash manners, and the distaste for what he'd had to do had been evident, Shouldn't she say the same for the way she'd treated Sideswipe? She thought that her initial reactions were perfectly acceptable considering the situation, but later? In the studio? She might have been overreacting. She really shouldn't have snapped at Sideswipe like that. It had been Sunstreaker's words that had made her angry,
She looked up at him, and lifted her hand, laying her fingertips on his arm. “Sideswipe, I'm sorry about the way I acted. You told me about how Sunstreaker is after working, I should have known that he... would have approached you while I was there.” She lowered her head. “I'm sorry about not pausing to consider your words.” She looked up at him, lifting her chin and allowing a smile to twitch her lips. “I’m ready to listen now.”
He stared down at her, arms slowly lowering to his sides. His optics flickered, and he motioned her further in. “Have a seat, Prowl.”
She moved past him, her doorwing brushing against his hand. She detected his movement; his hand reaching out to touch the trailing edge, but it stopped and returned to his side. She sat down on the couch, angling herself so that her panels stuck out over the arm of the couch. It was far more comfortable than attempting to sit with her back to the couch, and having the doorwings pressed in.
He sat down at the opposite end of the couch, leaning toward her but keeping his distance. He looked at her, optics dim, and mouth set in a straight line. She watched as he weighed his words, and knew how carefully he was phrasing what he next said. “Sunstreaker is really important to me, Prowl. The law calls him my brother, but he’s more than that. He’s my twin.” He rubbed nervous fingers up his cheekguard, not looking at her. “I can’t imagine life without him. Everything I’m not he is, what he is, I’m not,” he grinned at her, “I’m sure you’ve seen that.”
A few astroseconds as her comparison programming worked and she nodded. While she could see their differences, she also made note of their similarities; the short tempers, the utter confidence in themselves, the eye for varying aspects of beauty.
“When we’re together,” he threaded his fingers together in an insinuating gesture, “everything seems balanced in our systems, in our sparks” His optics glanced down to the fingers she rapped against her legs and he grimaced as though he realized what he’d just said and he shifted uncomfortably, threaded fingers dropping to his lap. He looked at her, rubbing the fabric of the couch before bringing his hands back to his lap. “He's my twin, we've always been there for each other. I don't think we've had much of a normal sibling relationship since we were sparklings.”
Her doorwings tapped the arm of the couch, and a sigh heaved from her vent. “If he means so much to you, then why are you even bothering with me? Why not just toss me to the side like all the other femmes,” she flicked her doorwings again, crossing her arms over her blue chestplate as she glowered at him from under her chevron, “or run away again?”
His optics widened and he leaned forward, expression earnest, hands gesturing toward her without touching her frame. “I don't know how you know about that, but you are nothing like that femme.”
She lifted an optic ridge at his bewilderment. “I track and analyze business patterns for a career, Sideswipe. It wasn't all that hard for me to deduce the reasons behind an otherwise bad business move.” His open business profile had allowed her to research his history. An unexpected decision to move away from a thriving business and an abandoned gallery brought her to only one logical conclusion. “So, why didn't you run away again?”
He pulled at his audio horns, dental plates audibly grinding as he searched the room for his answer. “How can I make you understand, Prowl?” He looked at her, again, optics bright in sudden inspiration, brow ridge furrowing as he spoke. “I love Sunny, I've loved him all my life. I was sparked loving Sunny, but you...” He leaned toward her, sliding forward so that his hip pressed her knees and his hands gripped the couch around her. “What I had---have with you is so different.” His fingers touched her cheek seam. The edges of his optic softened, the light dim within them. “I never knew how empty my life had been before you came into it. I thought Sunny made me complete, but you fill holes I never knew were there.” His face mere inches from her, she could see the minute workings of his optics as they studied her face. “I love you, Prowl. I can't promise you the whole of me, but will you take what I can give? Sunstreaker has had the best parts all his life, I think he can live without them whenever you need them.”
She stared at him, tears unaccountably running down her cheeks. She couldn't speak for nearly a breem as she turned Sideswipe's words over, as she turned the desperate hope so clear on his face. “Sideswipe, that's the most hackneyed thing I've ever heard.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to contain her emotions. “You slagging, stupid aft. I wish you had explained things earlier.” She shuttered her optics, trying to stem the flow of tears from her valves. “I hate not knowing where I stand in something.”
His arms slid around her, engine revving gently as he tipped her chin up with his forefinger. “Can you really blame me for hiding it?”
She looked up at him, her nasal ridge brushing his, so close did he hold his face to hers. She leaned a little away, but only so that she could rest her hands on the mag plates on his shoulders. “No,” clear in her mind was the utter devastation on his face as the elevator doors closed between them that night some solar cycles ago. “No,” she said again, hands rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder plates, lips brushing his cheek, “I suppose not.” She turned her head just enough so that their lips touched.
It was like activating a magnet.
He latched onto her: lips, hands, frame. His weight pressed her into the couch, and his hands roved her plating, plucking at the clasps without releasing them. He drank from her lips eagerly, glossa sliding into her mouth to caress her own glossa. Every touch and caress sent liquid fire rolling through her circuits, drawing plaintive whimpers and moans from her surging vocalizer.
She wasted no time in doing her own explorations of his frame, fingers digging into the seams of his plating, and sweeping caresses over exposed circuits. Her doorwings bit into the couch, pressed up at an uncomfortable angle. She rolled her head back as his mouth moved down her neck, his groans and growls vibrating against her throat. He nipped and licked her neck and shoulder, his hands and mouth then moving on to her chestplate.
Her fingers wrapped around his audio horns, caressing the jointed pieces of metal, causing him to cry out at the feedback.
He rolled her slightly, so that he could unclasp the three latches just under her arms. His dental plates prized the clasps up, his glossa running over the small bits of metal errogenously.
She clutched at him, ventilator whirring to compensate for the desire heating her systems. She whispered his name as he worked his fingers around her chestplate, tugging and pulling at the clasps.
When the plating slid free of her frame, he wasted no time in pressing a kiss between her breasts. His lips slid over her breast with a sweet squeal of metal against metal. His glossa flicked out, running over the sensor node at the top of her breast.
She gasped, curling around his head as he sent another eddy of sensation over her node.
“Sideswipe...” she moaned, processor glitching with sensual excitement; moisture coating her mouth.
“Hm?” His fingers ghosted around the base of her breast, causing another shiver to rack her frame.
“Shouldn't we go to...” Her mouth suddenly became occupied with meeting his, his hungry kiss halting her thoughts.
His optics darkened programs activating in automatic reaction to her lubricant. He moaned against her lips, hips bucking against her in eager anticipation. He yanked away from her mouth, panting as he moved down her neck with nips and licks.
She caressed around his audio horns down to his cheekguard and tipped up his head to face her. “Shouldn't we go to your berth? I mean, what if Sunstreaker...”
He glanced at the door, before he nodded, standing. “Yeah,” he said in a husky voice, “we should.” He helped her to her feet and guided her down the hallway, hands caressing and teasing over her doorwings.
~*~*~*~
The feeling of eyes watching her brought her back online with a start. Sideswipe's bare frame warmed her back, his possessive arm wrapped around her naked waist. Her doorwing pillowed his head, the dead weight pressing into the sensitive panel.
But it was Sunstreaker standing over her that drew her attention. Apparently, being in Sideswipe’s room wasn’t deterrent enough, for she was certain they had shut and locked the door.
His blue optics glowed within the shadows of his face, the gold of his vents gleaming like a telling miasma. He stared down at her with a strange tilt to his mouth, his indigo optics sweeping over the two lovers on the berth. His golden plating fairly glowed with recent care, droplets of water still sparkling on his finish. As beautiful as the vision that had appeared before her in the library.
Unconsciously her hands came up to cover her naked chest, her knees tucking forward and pressing together.
He didn't seem concerned with her discomfort, his hand uncurling from where it crossed over his chest to reach for her doorwing.
She jerked back in surprise, doorwing flicking back and striking against Sideswipe's shoulder. She couldn't converse with Sunstreaker privately; she didn't have his transponder code. Any message conveyed over the public system would be heard by anyone receiving, and she didn't want to broadcast the situation to everyone.
“Sunstreaker, what are you doing?”
His hand pulled back to his chestplate, and he went back to his silent observation of her and Sideswipe.
“You two are beautiful together,” he finally said after nearly two breem. He reached out again, this time taking hold of Prowl's doorwing and smoothing his hand along the top edge.
She arched her back into his sure touch, gasping as he pulled her closer. He bent down to kiss her cheek, his lips lingering on the curve of her seam. His hand flattened across the width of her panel, stroking the blue finish down toward the hinges.
He lifted his head away, gazing at her with the appreciation she had seen when he had looked at his brother that night she had run away. Her systems heated under his intense stare.
Sideswipe's arm tightened around her, and his other hand knocked away Sunstreaker's arm. “I'm right here, Sunny.”
“I know, bro. It's just...”
Sideswipe chuckled, pulling her back toward him and laying a kiss on the back of her neck. “She's beautiful, isn't she bro?”
Sunstreaker's engine rumbled in agreement as he reached toward his brother, his fingers squeaking out of Prowl's sight along Sideswipe's face. “Sideswipe didn't even take the time to remove all your plating?” He nodded his head toward her legs.
Sideswipe's finger twitched across her holding area and he chuckled. “It's her fault.”
“Sunstreaker, what are you doing here?” She still covered her chest with one arm as she grabbed Sunstreaker's wandering fingers with her other hand. His touch made it harder for her to think, made it harder for her to resist. Did she really want to resist?
He smiled down at her, and her circuits heated. “Admiring the cute couple in my apartment. What does it look like?”
“Admire with your optics and not your hands.”
Sunstreaker didn't deign his brother with a glance, his optics remained locked on her. He pulled his hand free of hers. “I’m an artist, Sideswipe; I like to feel a shape before I'm sure of it's texture,” his words purred out of his vocalizer, his lips shaping each sound precisely. His hand caressed over the curve of her hip, and down her thigh, sending surges through her gyroscopic systems.
Her ventilators hummed to life as she stared up at the golden mech, aware of the harsh drone of a growling engine at her back. Prowl reached back, and shoved at Sideswipe to get him off her doorwing. She sat up, sliding to the foot of the berth and away from the two mechs glaring at each other.
“Just can't keep your hands off my femmes, can you Sunny?” Sideswipe pushed himself up, not relenting his glare, his anger sudden and enhanced by the snarl of his engine..
“Hey, I can't help it that they taste perfection and want more of it.”
“Perfection? That same perfection that chases them away I suppose? You nearly cost me, Prowl. How about everything else we've had to give up because you're a slagger with no self control?”
Prowl covered her face with her hands, unable to believe this was happening to her. Her doorwings dipped down and she dropped her hands to her lap, no longer caring about her immodest appearance in front of Sunstreaker.
Sunstreaker's optics blazed and he stiffened, engine grinding angrily. He balled his fists at his sides, leaning back as though about to strike.
Prowl's doorwings shot up as she stood. “Would you both stop it!” It was not a request, it was a command; pulled from somewhere deep within her subroutines that she didn't even know existed. She looked first to Sideswipe, her brow ridge turning down. “Sideswipe, I love you, but you need to stop treating me like some... thing! I am an individual, with my own tastes and preferences, and I'd appreciate it if you would respect that I can keep off any unwanted advances on my own without your help.” She looked at the golden mech. “And you-” Her doorwings flicking as she realized she didn't know him well enough to say anything, “I don't even know what to say to you. Now,” she lifted her chin, sensors burning with the attention they turned on her, “are you two done comparing the number of your peripherals, or do I need to get nasty?”
They stared at her in stunned silence for a moment.
“You can keep off any advances?” Sideswipe's vocalizer glitched in some unidentifiable emotion. “You sure were doing a great job just now! I could hear you responding to him now, and before---”
“And you don’t, Sideswipe? I don't want to hear it from you,” she snapped back.
Sunstreaker glanced at the naked mech on the berth, fit of temper suddenly cooled. “Sparky little thing, isn't she?”
“Sunstreaker, every time you activate your vocalizer you say something either extremely flattering, or stupid.” Her optics narrowed at the golden mech. “Right now you’re gravitating toward stupid. Would you kindly shut off your vocalizer, or mind what you say.”
Sunstreaker's jaw snapped shut, and he regarded her with bright optics, still colored the shade of arousal.
She glared at the both of them, back straight, and doorwings flared behind her. “I think we could all use a coolant break. Sunstreaker, would you mind?”
Sunstreaker turned and marched out of the room, leaving Sideswipe and Prowl alone again.
A sigh vented from Prowl's systems and she sat down on the edge of the berth, burying her face in her hands. “I don't know what came over me,” she said when Sideswipe touched her shoulder.
He pulled her against him, leaning his cheekguard against her chevron. “I don't either, Prowl, but Primus, did it turn my engine.” He revved his engine emphatically..
She shoved at him playfully, doorwings sweeping forward in good humor. “Sideswipe you are utterly incorrigible.”
“I can't help it if you're so damned sexy.” He kissed her, short and tender before she gently pushed him away.
“You share the berth with him, share him with other femmes you bring home, but not me. Is it really so bad?”
He blinked in surprise, before he glanced out the door and his expression darkened. “You're mine, not his. I don't like anyone else's hands on you.”
She pressed her lips together, regarding him with dim optics. “So,” she hesitated uncertain how to broach the subject, “it's okay then, that you are sleeping with him, and with other femmes. But me? Oh, I'm not allowed to even react to sharp angles or pleasing words.” Her doorwings dipped down as she looked at him from under her chevron, scowling.
He frowned at her. “You want him?”
Part 5