Pulling Teeth

Chapter 9

And now, ladies and fangirls, smut.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.

Summary: Ratchet's lost one too many patients. He isn't losing this one.

Warning: Gratuitous violence, torture, m/m/m robot alien smut. That should cover it.

Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl. Eventual Twins/ Ratchet

Ratchet woke up slowly, deliciously slowly. His audios came online first. He heard the slow, gentle rumblings of three engines, and the soft intakes of three mechs. His touch sensors came online next. He felt the heavy, forms of the Twins draped over him. Some time in their recharges, one of the Twins had tangle his leg around Ratchet's, the other had wrapped an arm around Ratchet's head, fingers smoothed lightly over his face plates. Ratchet really didn't want to open his optics, and thus surrender himself to waking. This limbo was so perfect. Just laying there, it was the perfect state of being.

"Wake up Ratch," Sunstreaker hummed into Ratchet's audios. The medic was too drowsy to stop the shiver of pleasure that swam through him at the sound and the sensation of the yellow Lamborghini's breath.

"Why?" Ratchet asked before he realized he'd spoken. His voice sounded impudent, and slightly hoarse from recharge.

"Cause you've been recharging for over ten hours," Sunstreaker said. "And it's time for you to refuel."

"Ten hours," Ratchet gasped, optics wide and he moved quickly to sit up. He was stopped from doing more than lifting his shoulders, Sideswipe couldn't be bothered to move from his perch on Ratchet's chassis. Now the medic repressed a shudder. He hadn't noticed the way Sideswipe had been gently running his fingers around Ratchet's armour, right over his spark casing and interface panel. His armour felt warm. It almost tingled under Sideswipe's casual touch.

"Easy Ratch," Sideswipe said, looking up from his indolent pose. "You're off the duty roster for the day. FirstAid stopped by when you were recharging, and you're off the roster."

"Slag," Ratchet grumbled angrily, every joint tensing. First Aid, he was learning to be tricky, and Ratchet wasn't the one teaching him. "Slagger. Why did he come here? Why for Primus' sake should I be on leave? Pit damned slagger sneaks me drugs and now he's hunting me down and putting me on leave?"

"For Primus' sake," Sunstreaker hissed, exasperated. "It's no like your being punished. Obviously you need a break, and you're just to hard headed to accept it."

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, sputtering with rage and denial.

"The Pit you are," Sunstreaker said. Defiant anger burned in Ratchet's optics made Sunstreaker's spark tighten painfully. Sideswipe crawled up Ratchet's body, his hand lay flat against Ratchet's chassis.

Ratchet's fist connected with Sunstreaker's face before the medic even realized he his arm was swinging. Sideswipe squirmed back, startled by the sudden savagery of Ratchet attack on his brother. Sunstreaker's head jerked back with a sickening crack. Ratchet's optics flashed brightly before his vision really came into focus and he settled his gaze on Sunstreaker. The yellow Lamborghini touched his fingers gingerly against his cheek, a small crack ran from his optic down almost to his chin. Seeing what he has done, and without real provocation, Ratchet covered his face with his hands and shook.

"Primus," Ratchet swore. "What's wrong with me?"

"You're hurting," Sideswipe said. He straddled Ratchet's lap, and examined his brother's face. "And you're lashing out."

"Frag," Ratchet swore again, he sat up on his elbows, and reach a hand to Sunstreaker. It gesture wasn't tentative, but his spark was. "Let me see."

Sideswipe let his own hand fall and took Sunstreaker's with his. The Twins shared a glance. Ratchet cursed himself. What kind of a medic was he, attacking Sunstreaker and causing harm. He gently pressed along the fine crack, and thanked Primus that he hadn't actually damaged Sunstreaker's optic. At least he had his tools on hand; Ratchet reached into his armour and retrieved a plate regenerator. Ratchet cupped one hand over the good side of Sunstreaker's face, and ran the generator along the crack with his other hand. Sunstreaker leaned into Ratchet's touch. Trust resonated from the gesture, and tugged at Ratchet's spark; he didn't deserve that trust.

"What kind of medic am I?" Ratchet said, not realizing he;d spoken aloud. "I should be off duty. I can't even fragging control myself."

"It builds up Ratch," Sunstreaker said, his own hand holding Ratchet's in place against his cheek. "Anger, fear, whatever. If you don't find away to let it go. It takes over."

A defeated sound escaped from Ratchet's vocalizer and he hung his head, optics shuttered tight. Sideswipe climbed off of him, and Ratchet pulled his legs up towards himself. The berth didn't move as Sideswipe caught up and left Sunstreaker and Ratchet alone. Ratchet didn't fight it when Sunstreaker pulled him up against his chassis, and held him there. He did fight when Sunstreaker cursed low and fidgeted.

"What's wrong with you?" Ratchet asked. He wriggled around, chassis to chassis with Sunstreaker, and looked over Sunstreaker's shoulder. The plating had regenerated a little on it's own, but Sunstreaker had obviously done nothing to have the grazed plating on his aft repaired. Ratchet made a disgusted sound and reached for his regenerator again.

"You said you weren't repairing that," Sunstreaker teased.

"I guess I lied," Ratchet replied. He motion for Sunstreaker to lay on his stomach and Ratchet took special care in repairing the small wound. He wanted it seamless, and perfect. "It won't be perfect until I buff it out."

"Later," Sunstreaker said. He sat back up and pulled Ratchet against him. Ratchet didn't look up and didn't open his optics. Sideswipe reappeared only minutes later. He joined them again on the berth, pressing up against Ratchet's side. Once again the medic was cocooned; Sideswipe took Ratchet's hand and pressed a couple of energon into it.

"Drink," Sideswipe said. "And tell us what you're thinking."

"Why do you care?" Ratchet asked, staring at the lilac liquid in his cup.

"Cause you care," Sunstreaker replied. "You care about every Autobot. We've seen you after battles, Ratch. When mechs have died, or almost died. We've seen what it does to you."

It killed parts of his spark. Every time he lost a patient, it killed a part of him. It killed the part of him that still remembered like before the Academy was obliterated and before his clinic had been bombed. That part of him seemed to get smaller and smaller, leaving only a tired, disillusioned old mech behind.

"Since we care about you and want to keep you around, well we've got to take care of you," Sideswipe added. He lifted Ratchet's wrist and beckoned him to drink. "So talk to us. For starters, why'd you run off in the first place. Suicidal stunts are our modus operandi."

"The box was going to blow," Ratchet said. "I didn't know how how big the blast might be. I had to get it away or I'd lose another patient, one I could have saved. I couldn't let that habit. I couldn't."

"You could have died," Sideswipe said quietly.

"It didn't matter," Ratchet recalled. His own death hadn't mattered at all to him. It was strange, he'd always had a fairly healthy sense of self preservation. "I wasn't trying to die or anything that stupid. If Sunny had noticed, if I'd said anything, he would have taken it. He would have gone and gotten slagged either by the slagging Seekers or by that slagging box. And you would have died."

Ratchet almost shivered with the force of the memory. With shuttered optics he continued: "I researched your relay and your Twin sparks and I know one can't exist without the other. I wouldn't have lost one patient, I would have lost two. And I couldn't and still wouldn't let that happen."

"We didn't think you remembered that," Sunstreaker murmured. He almost wanted to smile. He shuttered his optics instead and leaned his head over Ratchet's. His engine hummed with affection. The calming hum was echoed in Sideswipe. Ratchet relaxed. Perhaps hypnotized. Sunstreaker really hated the idea but he needed to kill the mood.

"What are you're fluxes about?" Sunstreaker asked. He wrapped one arm around Ratchet stomach; Sideswipe pressed one hand against Ratchet's upper chassis.

"I'm nothing without my hands," Ratchet said eventually. "Hook knew that. That's why he did what he did to my arms. He knew that would break me."

"It didn't," Sideswipe said fiercely. "You didn't break."

"Yes, I did," Ratchet said. "I didn't tell him any codes or anything, but I broke. I knew I was nothing without my hands and he knew it too. He knew I knew it. He won."

"No," Sideswipe said. Rage screamed in both the Twins' sparks. "He didn't win. You're alive. You didn't give him any codes and your arms work."

"I feel broken," Ratchet said. "Knowing he knows how easy it is to break me. Knowing you know..."

"No," Sunstreaker growled and held Ratchet tighter. "You're banged up. You've been banged up for millenia, but you aren't broken and you weren't! Ratch, you would have figured out how to live without your arms. It would have been rough but you are so strong. You would have figured it out, we would have helped, everyone would have helped."

"You think so," Ratchet said. The laugh vibrating through his vocalizer was self-deprecating. "Cause I think I would've ended up as a janitorial drone at best."

"Never," Sunstreaker said. "We wouldn't even have need to fight anyone on that. You've been friends with Optimus for how long? The big bot never would have let you fall that far. Wheeljack would've come up with some crazy invention to help you work, and you still could've taught FirstAid and Swoop."

"But this is what your fluxes have been about, right?" Sideswipe asked. "Being useless?"

"Yes," Ratchet grumbled, he fidgeted now, uncomfortable with the attention.

"Never going to happen," Sunstreaker said.

"You aren't capable of sitting around doing nothing, Ratch," Sideswipe said. "Without arms, without legs, even without a head you'd find away to pull your own."

Ratchet laughed. The Twins seemed to think he was far stronger than he was. But he was too old and too warn to be that strong. It was embarrassing to think. Ironhide was as old as he was and yet there was nothing that could ever bring Optimus's bodyguard down. He guessed they were aging differently and Ratchet was not ageing nearly so well.

"You're wrong," Ratchet said when he finally stopped laughing. "I'm too old to change my ways. I'm just too old."

"You're not too old," Sunstreaker said, a strange smirk crossed his mouth. "If humans can teach old dogs new tricks, we could always teach you."

"What could you two teach me?" Ratchet scoffed dubiously. Pompous, cocky bratbot.

"How to relax for one thing," Sunstreaker said. To illustrate his point, Sunstreaker slid his fingers between Ratchet's abdominal armour and slowly rubbed a few wires and cables between his fingers. Days, maybe years of stress, melted from Ratchet's sides. It was hard, but Ratchet managed to scowl.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Ratchet asked. His optics dimmed just a little and he couldn't bring himself to ask Sunstreaker to stop. He should've; it was never wise to encourage these two but Sunstreaker had the main cables that ran up his sides between his fingers and the way he was rolling them... A pleasure bot couldn't have done better.

"Practice," Sunstreaker said tilting his head to lean it against the side of Ratchet's.

"Lamborghinis" Ratchet grumbled with his optics shuttered. He opened them when he felt Sideswipe straddle his lap and lean in close to his face.

"Yep, we're great," Sideswipe said. "And we're going to teach you everything we know about how to relax a wound up mech."

He should have said no. He should have said anything, but instead Ratchet watched Sideswipe leaned the rest of the way in and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Ratchet angled is optics up before he grumbled unintelligible, his hackles rising. And he was going to move his head away, maybe his whole self but just then Sunstreaker found his way through the gap of his back armour and tangled his fingers in the mesh of wire. Ratchet couldn't bite back a sigh.

"Relax," Sideswipe said, laughter in his voice. He kiss the tip of Ratchet's nose and reached for the wiring of Ratchet's shoulder. He wasn't going to be upstaged by his brother and he let Sunstreaker know it over their relay. The challenge was met, Ratchet had no idea what he was in for.

Ratchet groaned as his arms went pleasantly limp; the empty cup of energon slid from his hand onto his lap. Sideswipe carefully unlatched Ratchet's chassis armour and peeled it off the medic, before discarding it. Sunstreaker smirked and peeled away the back piece of Ratchet's armour tossed it unceremoniously aside.

"Is there a reason you are stripping me?" Ratchet asked, there was no bite in his tone, rather is was deep and slightly husky with lingering pleasure.

"Cause we want better access to all your wires and cables," Sideswipe replied.

"So we can melt you into a happy goo," Sunstreaker said. "And 'face you senseless."

"Wait..." Ratchet paused. "What? Have you slaggers lost your minds."

"Nope," Sunstreaker breathed into Ratchet's audios. "But when we're done, you'll have lost yours."

"And if I say no?" Ratchet asked. Sunstreaker leaned Ratchet's heat over his shoulder and looked the medic square in the face.

"We'll leave you alone," Sunstreaker said. Sideswipe nodded.

"But we won't like it," Sideswipe said. "We want to 'face you. And we think you need it."

"Well, Ratch?" Sunstreaker asked. "You going to ask us to stop?"

Ratchet had to think about it. The Twins didn't move. Sunstreaker cuddling him from behind, Sideswipe from his front. They kept their hands still, away from his sensory wires and cables. They allowed him, maybe even wanted him to think. His processor was sluggish; it had been so long since anyone had touched him, since he'd ever touched himself, Ratchet was highly sensitive. And it did feel good. Even just sitting here with the Twins felt good. It felt different than just sitting with Wheeljack, this was so much more overwhelming but in such a good way. Ratchet would never have guessed that either brother had this, almost, tender side to them. He'd never faced with more than one mech at a time, or with mech's so much younger than him but Ratchet had to admit that the idea was enticing. But Sideswipe was a prankster, and Primus knew what Sunstreaker did for fun other than complain, this could all just be a bet or a game. Why would they want him, anyways.

"Is this a prank, or a bet?" Ratchet asked, his voice surprisingly soft, even vulnerable. He cleared his throat and narrowed his optics. "Because if it is, I will take you both a part and turn you into chairs."

"Ouch," Sideswipe grimaced. He cupped Ratchet's face and leaned in unbearably close. "We're doing this because we want you. And because you need a couple of distractions."

"And we can be very distracting," Sunstreaker said, he held his hands just over Ratchet's spine. The near touch was tempting.

"Slagging brats," Ratchet grumbled and sucked air in through his intakes. But he'd made his decision and closed the small space between he and Sideswipe and kissed the red Lamborghini. It was a rather simple kiss, sort of cautious and maybe awkward. Sideswipe didn't let it stay that way.

He crushed his mouth against Ratchet's and nibbled on the medic's lip in a bid to deepen the kiss. Ratchet parted his lips and Sideswipe immediately dove in, tasting Ratchet and exploring his denta and glossa with his own glossa. Sideswipe tasted Ratchet's moan and return his own as Sunstreaker nibbled along the cables of Ratchet's back, and rubbed circles over those of his hips.

It was too intense. Ratchet arched under Sunstreaker's mouth and did his fair best to explore Sideswipe evil mouth even as Sideswipe overpowered him. He tried to give as good as he got, feeling his way to Sideswipe's neck, and teasing the wires there that he knew would drive the other mech crazy. Sideswipe shivered and ran his hands all over Ratchet's chest and abdomen, playing Ratchet's sensitive wires and cables like a musician, and drawing breathy groans from Ratchet.

Sideswipe broke the kiss and turned his attention to Ratchet's quivering neck. He bit one of the ultra sensitive cables there, earning him a loud cry of pleasure from Ratchet, and a beautiful shudder from the red and white mech. He laid back and pulled Ratchet on top of him as he relentless lavished ever cable he could reach with bites and licks and sucks. Ratchet's was so close to losing his mind. Sideswipe took Ratchet's hips in his hands and raised Ratchet's aft.

Sunstreaker took his brother's invitation with a grin, and spread Ratchet's legs farther apart to allow himself better access. He used his glossa to taste the lubricants leaking from the sealed interface panel between Ratchet's thighs. Ratchet was leaking so much lubricant already Sunstreaker purred against the panel. Ratchet tasted like high grade, potent and well aged.

Ratchet whined. It was an incoherent plea and it made the Twins' intakes rev into overdrive as their systems boiled.

"Open for him," Sideswipe said as he tasted the edges of the plating that covered the interface panel that surrounded Ratchet's spark chamber. Ratchet shook and with another needy sound, obeyed.

Sunstreaker dove in, glossa whirling around the rim of Ratchet's sopping valve before lunging into the quivering, pulsing valve. Ratchet gasped and whimpered as his sensor screamed with pleasure, his cable hardened fully, instantly and leaked as Ratchet came ever closer to overload.

"Oh, oh!" Ratchet moaned wordlessly. Sideswipe pushed him up and back, into Sunstreaker's mouth.

"On your knees," Sideswipe ordered. Ratchet struggled to obey. His arms shook, felt frameless, as if his protoform was made of jelly. Sideswipe didn't make him hold his own for long, the red Lamborghini rolled around and pushed himself under Ratchet, and taking the medic's cable into his mouth.

"Primus," Ratchet cried, he collapsed onto his forearms onto Sideswipe's stomach. Sideswipe sucked him deep, his mouth and throat like a hot, wet vice. Sunstreaker thrust his tongue so deep inside Ratchet that he teased the most sensitive sensory nodes with Ratchet's valve. Overcome by the brothers, all Ratchet could do was moan and cry: "Primus."

He wanted to touch them, return the pleasure he was receiving but the Twins were in a giving mood and they overwhelmed his senses and made it impossible for him to plan a move, or plant a kiss. Later, he would touch them, and overwhelm them, for know all he could do was receive.

Fingers, Primus knew how many, pushed into his over-sensitized valve, stretching the rarely used component, almost painfully. Ratchet whined and groaned as he was stretched, and as he was swallowed to the root.

"Sunstreaker!" Ratchet screamed as seconds after the fingers left him, Sunstreaker eased the first inches of his cable into his valve. Ratchet felt the malleable walls of his valve spread wide for the brutally hot invader. Sunstreaker pulled back and thrust forward until his cable was buried completely inside Ratchet.

"Gah," Ratchet groaned and whimpered. He was so big. So big. Ratchet's valve struggled to adjust around Sunstreaker's tense cord as the yellow Lamborghini pulled out and thrust deep. The sounds of metal grinding against metal and the squelch of Sunstreaker cord imbedding in Ratchet echoed around the room. Sideswipe ran his glossa down Ratchet's spike and tasted the lubricants forced from his valve. Ratchet was so hot to the touch he almost burned.

Sideswipe swallowed Ratchet's cable just as the medic shuddered and screamed as his overload took him, the red twin drank Ratchet's fluid eagerly, swallowing every drop. Ratchet went limp over him and Sideswipe slid free before sitting up and pulling himself and Ratchet up. He faced his brother, who was still hard and buried in Ratchet's depth. The Twins grinned as Sideswipe inched forward and they both lifted Ratchet up. The medic clung to Sideswipe's shoulders, and Sideswipe held his and his brother's cords together as they slowly lowered Ratchet onto them both.

"It's too much," Ratchet complained, to limp from his overload to fight.

"Slaggers," Ratchet swore as his valve was stretched impossibly wide as he took the tips of both the Twins cords and slowly sank down on them.

He ached. It wasn't exactly unpleasant but Ratchet's legs, and especially his aft ached enough that alarms in his processor warned him against moving. The Twins were awake again as well, their limbs tangled in his. How many times had they made him overload? How many time's had they faced him, cord and cable, basic interface or port and processor. Ratchet dared not try and count. He glowered up and then down at each Twin. Primus they had so much energy. And they both looked far too pleased with themselves.

"Please tell me you aren't trying to seduce me just for some sort of hormonal release," Ratchet said in between gasp. Slagging Twins were damned distracting.

"Nope," Sunstreaker said as he briefly, and only briefly removed his mouth from Ratchets neck.

"For you maybe," Sideswipe added, his skilled fingers deftly opening Ratchet's chest plate. "We're fine."

End Fic

A/N There you go my lovelies. Take it in it's mostly unedited state for now. My proofreader will be back on this side of the Pacific on the 13th of January, and some time after that I will replace this post with a cleaned up, snicker, version.