Bittersweet Honey chapter 9

A/n: In regards to Reflector in this fic, and Swindle and Reflector’s ‘relationship’ I was heavily inspired by Kd Zeal’s fanfictions; ‘Desire to Triplicate’ and ‘Name’s Secret’ (I hope mine isn’t TOO similar!). Go check ‘em out, they ROCK! This chapter might push the rating up as it contains some extreme violence and rape near the end (and also sexual content at the beginning). I will put some lyrics just before this part of the chapter to forewarn everyone. If you don’t want to read that part, you can skip to the next chapter as it’ll be discussed in there (in less detail of course) anyway.

‘/…../’ = Thoughts or ‘mental voices’

“…..” = Speech

:…..: = Speech through a sparkbond

(Just thought I’d make it more pronounced since I keep confusing myself! XD)

‘Look at the way
we gotta hide what we're doin'
'cause what would they say
if they ever knew
and so we're

Running just as fast as we can
holdin' on to one another's hand
tryin' to get away into the night
and then you put your arms around me
and we tumble to the ground
and then you say’

- (I think we’re alone now - Tiffany)

‘Forced conversation, hidden agenda,
you think we're stupid how dare you!
The rug has not been pulled, over our eyes you fool,
we can see right through!’

- (Lies – Billy Talent)

…….

Reflector was still huffing angrily as they made their way to the rec room. They were low on fuel so getting some energon was essential, especially as they had shift in a few human hours. The main hall was crowded and there was the buzzing tension of anger, resentment and shame hanging in the air in response to the Decepticons’ defeat. Especially as the initial plan had been practically full-proof, even the most loyal of the faction agreeing that the defeat had been caused by Megatron’s insistence of getting his aft handed to him by Optimus Prime.

Not that anyone, not even Starscream, was going to point that out today. They didn’t have a death wish.

Spectro dragged his mates along to the rows of energon cubes, almost smashing into the Stunticons as the larger mechs stomped in front of them, pushing in towards the cubes. Drag Strip and Wildrider turned to laugh and sneer down at them. Spyglass growled and took a step forwards, small grey hands clenching into fists and Viewfinder caught a hold of his shoulders, muttering for him to calm down.

“Let go of me View’, this fragger needs his faceplate smashed in!” Spyglass struggled.

Viewfinder made a soft noise of discouragement. “Let’s not start something; Hook will remove our lens if we fight!” And his mate should know why THAT was such a terror. Their lens was one of the most sensitive points on their frames; it would be agonizing to have it ‘removed’. And Hook could be that sadistic, he was well known for it.

Spyglass bristled, but then huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms, standing down. His mate released him and they continued towards the cubes, each grabbing a hexahedron before continuing out of the room. The threesome weren’t really welcome in the rec room because of their size. The room was dominated by the larger mechs and Reflector was unpopular, so they usually just refuelled together in their shared quarters.

…….

“Drat!” Swindle muttered in annoyance as he entered the rec room, only to see his quarry disappear through the exit across the hall. He’d have to hurry after them otherwise he would lose them as he had no clue where their quarters were. He grabbed a cube off the side before jogging to the opposite doorway, smirking as he spied the gestalt ahead of him.

…….

‘/ Do you get the feeling we are being followed / No, shut-up, don’t scare View’ / Not trying to scare View’ just… / Shut-up BOTH of you! We’ll spill the energon! / Whatever /’

Spyglass shrugged and typed in the entry code, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder at the corridor behind them. The door slid open and he stepped aside to let Viewfinder and Spectro in. The latter component patted his shoulder condolingly with a reassuring smile.

‘/ we are tired and we need to calm down and refuel Spy’, stop fretting /’

Spyglass clicked his glossa at his mate, feigning annoyance, but his resolve was breaking. His mates always had that effect; they could read each other like childishly explicit books. The component watched the other two disappear into their recharge quarters and made to follow when a hand came to rest on his shoulder from behind.

“Hey ‘Flec, got a moment?”

Spyglass whirled round, mouthing silently in utter disbelief. Was this mech incapable of getting a clue?!

“Get off me, you fragger! We have no ‘moments’ for you!”

Swindle simply moved his hand off the smaller mech’s shoulder, his mouth quirking into a deep smirk. These mechs were so cute when they were angry!

“Alright, calm down! Now, I realise we got off on the wrong foot here-”

“-Wrong foot my aft, you’re a perverted liar!” Spyglass interrupted angrily.

“-Bu-ut, I’m willing to make some amends.” Swindle continued as if the Reflector component hadn’t spoken, “I admit, I may have been a tad unfair to you guys, but was it really necessary to resort to physical violence, ‘Flec my friend?” The Combaticon sauntered forwards, grinning, glossa flicking out to run over his lower lip enticingly.

Spyglass backed up slightly, holding his glowing cube of energon tighter to his chassis. He felt his faceplate flush at the sight of the other’s glistening tongue and decided it would be a good idea to get through the doorway and close the sliding door in the larger Decepticon’s face. Before he could act on this however, the sound of voices drifted from around the bend in the hallway and he froze.

The Reflector mechs were perhaps some of the only Decepticons who had no rumours about their personal lives floating round the base. They were very happy with this fact as it had saved them from some of the more vicious taunts and innuendo that other mechs suffered. If they were caught with another mech outside their quarters… it would ruin everything! Spyglass growled and nabbed Swindle’s arm, dragging the surprised jeep forwards into their quarters, the door sliding shut behind them.

…….

Swindle gave a yelp as he was hauled forwards, almost losing his balance by the force. He was left quite stunned; the mech had been angry and hostile one minute and then had pulled him into the gestalt’s quarters without a word. Previously feeling completely in control, the Combaticon clutched the cube he was holding tighter, feeling on edge.

Spyglass ignored the taller mech now looking at him in confusion and leant against the door. The voices had paused outside the quarters opposite, Dirge and Ramjet bickering about having the Constructicons patch their wings. They sounded like they were going to be there for a while. So now he couldn’t just shove Swindle out the door like he wanted to, slag it to the pit!

Refusing to look at the taller mech, Spyglass simply walked through the second automatic door into their designated quarters. The rooms were reasonably sized, and the gestalt was content with them. They had two berths which they had pushed together, a shelving unit and a monitor attached to the wall. They also had a small wash room off to the side which they could all fit in, though it was a squash!

Viewfinder and Spectro were watching human television on the monitor and drinking from the energon cubes contentedly. The Viewfinder component turned to inquire what had taken their mate so long when he spotted Swindle over Spyglass’s shoulder, giving a sharp cry in surprise. This got Spectro’s attention and he also gave a start at the sight of the Combaticon.

“What is he doing here Spy’?!!!”

Spyglass scowled, “he followed us here and would not go away. The Coneheads were coming down the corridor, and we did not want them to see him talking to us, as they would have talked then!” He stopped shouting when he saw Viewfinder cringing and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Spectro felt his anger soften at his mate’s words. So he had been thinking of them when he’d made the illogical decision to allow the jeep entry, which made it alright. And they were on their turf; they could easily dictate how the situation went and defend themselves from the Combaticon’s unwanted advances.

Swindle chuckled nervously, a half-sparked grin flicking on his lips before Spectro sent him a dark look. The Combaticon felt at a loss of what to do now, granted, he’d wanted to get into the gestalt’s quarters for a while now but… they were still so fragging angry at him. Maybe it would be best if he waited here until the corridors were clear and then simply clear off himself. Even he had limits and Onslaught would be particularly fragged off if he got back to quarters slagged up.

“Heh, look, I’ll just hover here ‘till it’s safe ta leave, alright? Promise I won’t get in your way or nuthin’.” The dealer sighed in defeat and leant against the wall, feeling awkward as Spyglass went to join his gestalt mates on the berths whilst he simply stood. He was used to his dealing addictions getting him into hot water, but this was just embarrassing.

He couldn’t get a small group of mechs interested in him, or even to hand over a few bits of evidence, was he losing his touch? This had never happened before. True, a few of his clients had been suspicious of his motives and sure, after trying to sell his gestalt brothers he had been beaten quite severely to a metallic pulp, but never had his price been so high as to convince his client to refuse to purchase! Now more than ever he desired to know what the mechs been going to ask for.

‘/ Look at him! He is so nervous! Ha ha! / Don’t get too cocky View’, it is probably just a ruse to disguise the true nature of his plans / Why don’t we test this theory? Especially if he wishes for that! We could play with him a little, just tease / Oh Spyglass! We… that is much too cruel! / It’s all he deserves View’! / Well… if you say so… / Start simple, slow, don’t let him catch on that it’s deliberate! /’

Spectro could have laughed, but he refrained. This would be fun to watch, especially if Swindle wanted them as much as they suspected. Slowly he leant back, tipping the cube enough to let him drink and a small amount to spill down his chin.

“Spectro, you’re such a messy eater!” Viewfinder giggled before leaning over to lick at the energon spill, his glossa moving over his mate’s face and neck languidly.

Swindle’s optics widened as his internal fans whirred a tad faster. Oh Primus, the little mech was… licking up that energon like an Earthen feline. And damn it to the pit if he didn’t find that a delicious sight right there.

Spyglass grinned around the edge of the energon cube as he drank. What could he do?

‘/ Spy’, why don’t you knock the cube over and we’ll lick it off the berth… and anywhere else it lands! /’ Spectro’s voice dripped of amusement and a smidgen of arousal.

Spyglass suppressed a smirk as he moved as if to stand and ‘accidentally’ kicked the cube closest to him over. The energon seeped out across the berth’s surface, dripping onto the floor and coating Viewfinder’s legs, as he had been the nearest to Spyglass.

“Spyglass!” Viewfinder yelled, almost affronted that his gestalt mate had tipped energon over him. Sure it would feel good to have it ‘cleaned’ off, but still, it was a shock to the systems to have liquid abruptly covering you!

“Oops, sorry View’, wasn’t looking where I was goin’,” Spyglass tried to play the sheepish fool convincingly. “Here, let me help you with that!” He leant forwards and began to lap at the other mech’s wet shin.

Swindle’s attention was fixed completely on the mini-bot gestalt before him. His internals were heating up rapidly at the visual of Spyglass’s glossa and Viewfinder’s little gasps and Spectro’s fingers as they reached forwards to scoop up some of the energon coating his mate’s legs.

Viewfinder gave a small moan as Spyglass reached the top of his thighs, brushing his codpiece. He rocked his hips hungrily, his systems riling delightedly by his gestalts’ attentions.

Spectro ran a hand around the rim of Viewfinder’s lens lightly, as if by accident, before moving to lap at the berth’s surface, sucking up the energon coating it. He mewled loudly after every lick, enjoying the tingle of the energy on his glossa and down his throat.

Spyglass and Viewfinder joined their mate happily, no reason to let good energon go to waste! Especially since they could see and hear what their antics were doing to their guest…

Swindle’s fans were whirring noisily, his mouth open; he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had told him that he was drooling. It was taking all his willpower not to step forwards and ravish the mini-bots. His hands shook and he almost dropped the cube, a low moan escaping his trembling lips in response to Spectro’s mewls. Primus, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take…

Viewfinder sat up slowly, licking his lips. He feigned surprise. “Oh, what’s wrong Swindle, are you feeling okay?” He smiled innocently and crawled towards the Combaticon, a tiny trail of energon crawling down his chin.

Swindle felt his face plate grow unbearable hot. He almost backed away from the tiny mech; he felt so out of control. Then the component in from of him cocked his head to the side childishly and Swindle lost it. He grabbed the component and kissed him heatedly, pulling the mini-bot tight against his frame. The energon cube landed on the berth, forgotten.

Spyglass and Spectro sat up, wearing matching smirks on identical faces.

‘/ Told you he wanted us that badly / Mmm, looks like View’ is enjoying himself! / Second kiss today for him, heh heh / Want to join them? / Soon, for now I simply want to watch / Agreed /’

Viewfinder gave an undignified squeak at the manhandling. And then lips covered his, devouring him hungrily. His gasp allowed Swindle’s glossa to invade his mouth, dancing with his own. The camera component latched onto the jeep’s shoulders, scraping his codpiece against the other mech’s hips with a very audible cry.

Swindle was not going to be able to stand much longer, not with this delicious little mech all over him. And then a small devious hand began to play with his grill and the Combaticon groaned, lowering the tiny Decepticon onto the berth, still ravishing the smaller mech’s mouth.

‘/ Why don’t you two come play with us? /’ Viewfinder blearily thought, heavily distracted by pleasure.

‘/ Well… you looked like you were having so much fun without us… / We didn’t want to ruin the moment View’ dear /’

‘/ Come play, he’s so good! Mmm!- /’ Viewfinder mewled out loud as Swindle traced his interface panel, the yellow and purple mech’s mouth moving from his lips to his neck and down his chassis.

Spectro and Spyglass chuckled before crawling forwards, Spyglass running his hands over Swindle’s armour, whilst Spectro’s fingers joined the Combaticon’s on Viewfinder’s frame.

And, one thought was clear within all their minds; it was going to be one pit of a good night…

…….

‘You come around when you find me faithless
You come around when you find me faceless’

(FMLYHM– Seether)

“WHO IS IT?!”

“Soundwave: Lord Megatron.”

“Come in Soundwave.” It was a disturbingly calm hiss and immediately put the tape deck on edge. As the door opened he walked through cautiously, the young Autobot held tight against his chassis.

Megatron was standing on the other side of his desk and gestured for Soundwave to sit. The tape-deck barely suppressed a shiver at the shark smile plastered over his leader’s face. He sat, deftly adjusting Bumblebee to stop the young frame being crushed into the desk.

“So, Soundwave, what did you get up to during your absence, we missed you during the battle.”

Soundwave wracked his mind for a convincing excuse as to his whereabouts earlier that day. He did not usually lie to Megatron. How could he explain his kidnap of the Autobot without revealing the true nature of his actions?

“I had deduced that if the plan should fail, though I deemed it highly unlikely, you should have a second option open towards you. So I took the liberty of abducting the young Autobot to use as ransom.” Oh that was terrible; even he could hear how false that sounded.

“Oh Soundwave, I had expected better of you, you of all Decepticons!” The large silver mech suddenly lunged forwards to grab the tape-deck’s throat, hefting him upwards. “Do you think me stupid?!” he roared, “YOU’RE PLOTTING AGAINST ME, AREN’T YOU? YOU AND THOSE DISGUSTING CREATIONS OF YOURS - ACTING SO DAMNED HUMAN!”

Soundwave gagged, those thick dark fingers digging into the pliable metal of his throat, constricting the main energon lines. He dropped Bumblebee and grasped at the large hands, static crackling from his vocaliser. He was not Starscream; he would not lower himself to begging, not for his life, not for Megatron; they were not worth it. He struggled as the larger mech threw him away from the desk, his frame slamming into the wall behind him.

“And then you bring this Autobot spy here! Trying to make excuses right under my olfactory sensors! Vermin, bringing vermin into my headquarters! I will not stand this from any inferior mech, least of all TRAITORS!!!” and he rammed the tape-deck into the wall, twisting him around painfully.

Soundwave struggled, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the purple, metal tiles and legs kicking fruitlessly. Megatron was ruthless and violent, true, but never had he attacked the communication director so fiercely. And then the navy mech felt a powerful hand grab hold of his pelvic plating and he bucked his helm backwards trying to head-butt Megatron and make him stop.

Megatron just growled and tore into the thin metal under his hands, exposing the interface panel. The smaller mech grunted in pain and strained to break free of his leader’s hold. The silver tyrant hoisted Soundwave’s right leg up, his interface cable driving forcefully into the boom-box’s interface port.

Soundwave screamed, still fighting the larger mech. His port was on fire with zapping agony. Megatron’s energy drowned him, draining his own hungrily. The telepath did not take berth-mates often and, as he did not engage in forceful or dominative interface this was even more painful for him. Sobs and cries were wrung loudly from his vocaliser at every harsh thrust.

The silver mech grunted, releasing a stream of burning energy into the tape-deck’s shaking frame, retracting his cable and releasing his subordinate as though the other was nothing more than mere worthless scrap. He spat on Soundwave and sneered down at the sobbing mech before promptly turning and leaving the office.

…….

Top of Form

Bottom of Form