Fandom: Transformers IDW AU with a dose of Bayverse and G1
Author: gatekat and ultrarodimus on LJ
Pairing: Drift/Wing, Axe/Dai Atlas, GoldenRod/Titanium, Striker/Thorn
Rating: Pg-13
Codes: AU, Slash,
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal. com/290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: nanoklik = 1/8 second; klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds; breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes; groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours; joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours; orn = 42 joor/13.02 days; decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years; metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years; vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years; century = 96 vorns/7968 years; millennia = 1056 centuries/101,376 vorns/7,944,096 years (7.944 million years)
::text:: comm chatter
~text~ hardline/bond chatter

Hunters from the Light 20: Striking Out

It had been a long road to get this far.

For their first time raising a sparkling, Drift and Wing had done an exceptional job of it. Striker was a young, handsome mech, almost finished his training as a Knight and preparing for the orn when he would take his place in the Circle. His creators and grand-creators were very proud of him, despite how much of a handful he had been as a small sparkling and how much of a handful he still was as a young adult. He had all the defiance of both his creators, the temper and combat talent befitting Drift and the quick smile and charming nature of Wing ... along with the jet's sleek wings.

Titanium and GoldenRod had returned to New Crystal City, this time without their faction insignias and having no plans to leave. The big purple and silver triple changer had explained to Dai Atlas that they'd finally had enough, were sick to the spark of the endless war and death. GoldenRod had added that he'd been sickened by some of what he'd seen among the ranks of the other Autobots, and neither had wanted any part of it anymore.

The pair had returned to the city, taking up Dai Atlas' promise of a place to settle permanently. Neither lived in the Citadel, finding a place in the city, where GoldenRod set up as an artist and armor painter, and Titanium taught precision/formation flying. Both had found city life to their liking, and the city and Knights were quick to favor their services.

Right now, however, GoldenRod was enjoying evening energon with some friends in the Citadel's dinning hall while Titanium was training a search and rescue unit.

"He's trying to get laid again," Drift's smirk was hidden by his cube, but the deep humor wasn't hidden by anything. Only the focus of his optics betrayed the cause of the seemingly random comment.

"Oh?" Wing looked up from his energon, then turned to look for their sparkling. "Who is it this time?"

Dai Atlas snorted into his energon, trying not to inhale the stuff into his air intakes. Putting down the cube, he tilted his helm to watch, amusement in the set of his wings and the smile lurking on his face. It was even easier to tell when the young jet wanted some attention than it had been with Wing at that age. Striker had all of both his creator's carnal desires and none of the subtlety time had taught them.

That thought made Axe nearly choke on his energon. ~They haven't learned a thing if what I walked in on in the conference room the other orn is anything to go by,~ he snickered to his mate. ~Their creation's just that much bolder.~

Bold, or crazy. For the sleek white and red jet had a seductive swagger that more often than not worked, and was headed directly for GoldenRod.

~This is going to be entertaining,~ Dai Atlas replied, a snicker clearly coming across the bond.

Noting what Striker was up to, Wing groaned. The white jet almost got up to head their creation off, but Drift caught his arm, convincing him to sit and watch, and let GoldenRod take care of it himself.

The golden mech was at another table nearby, perched on one of the backless stools that the Knights preferred, due to their Great Swords. He was leaning on the table, the overhead lights gleaming across his sleek golden finish, glinting off the patterns in blue and green painted across his shoulders and upper arms, and coiling vine-like along the leg extended out under the table. He was happily chatting with a couple Knights nearby, one almost pure black, the other white and purple.

"Hay there handsome," Striker purred as he slid in next to GoldenRod, standing between him and the empty seat next to him. "Your usual company seems to be missing."

The golden mech looked at the young jet, blinking blue optics as he took in a charming smile, bright ruby optics and sleek multi-jointed wings flared in display. "Pardon me?" It took him a moment to process what the red and white mech had said, and blue optics widened ever so slightly as he placed the suggestive edge on the mech's field.

"Titanium's not with you," Striker rephrased easily, extending his field to tease along the golden mech's, promising pleasure. "I'm looking for company too," he purred.

GoldenRod raised an optic rim. "Oh, really. I think you'd have better luck elsewhere, personally."

"Now why is that?" Striker refused to take the first hint and reached out to trace a finger boldly along a design on GoldenRod's shoulder. "It's not like he's here."

The golden-armored former Autobot leaned away from the touch. "Hands off, please. There are many other mechs and femmes in here to sidle up to; I'm fairly sure one of them would be happy to oblige you."

"Quite a few," Striker agreed without shame, well aware that more than half the residents would be happy to share a berth with him, for a joor or for a night. "You're the most attractive one here, however. It's not often he lets you wander around here alone."

"Titan's busy training a SAR team. And usually I'm quite fine coming here on my own. Everyone else knows to keep their mitts to themselves," was the response. GoldenRod took a sip of his energon, eying Striker and judging just how determined the young mech was. Knowing his creators, the white and red jet had enough tenacity and stubbornness for an entire unit, and at least as much desire for pleasure.

"Have they even tried?" Striker asked conversationally, honestly a bit bewildered by the response to his advance.

GoldenRod snorted. "No. They're all aware that I'm taken, and they're all well aware that Titan is a warrior on par with Dai Atlas."

"Why limit yourself?" Striker asked, cocking his helm and nearly biting his glossa to keep from adding anything about over-possessive mates like his creators and grand-creators.

"Titanium is my bondmate, and he's not that great about sharing," the golden mech informed the young jet. "Shoo." He flicked one hand in a "scat" manner.

Across the room Wing's wings twitched in displeasure when Striker didn't take the clear dismissal, instead catching GoldenRod's hand and stroking a finger along the sensitive palm. His creation didn't see, but the tall black Knight sitting next to GoldenRod did.

GoldenRod rolled his optics. "Persistent, aren't you." He extricated his hand from Striker's, setting it on the table.

"Of course," Striker smiled, warm, affectionate and aroused as his fingers found another line of filigree to trace. In his field was also the determination that tended to get him what he wanted. "You are worth being persistent for."

The golden mech snorted, batting Striker's fingers gently away from his armor. "You'll have better luck trying elsewhere."

Before Striker could respond, the slender black mech on GoldenRod's other side stood, took two steps and caught Striker by the shoulder to spin him away from GoldenRod and into a kiss that all but melted the youth's wings.

GoldenRod raised both optic rims at that. "That's one way to deal with him, I suppose..." His spoiler twitched, hearing his mate laughing through their bond.

~Try not to fall out of the sky laughing this time,~ GoldenRod teased, getting the mental equivalent of a raspberry in response.

With a tug, Thorn pulled an unresisting Strike towards the door, several snickers following them.

Dai Atlas' wings were twitching as the Circle leader tried his very best not to laugh. Next to him, Axe was showing far less restraint. Wing sighed, rolling his optics before giving his amused mate a look.

"I dare anyone to honestly say they're surprised at any of that," Drift snickered.

"Like creator, like creation," Axe snickered.

"I was not that bad!" Wing protested, glaring at the black Knight.

"I was worse," Drift chuckled, reaching over to tease his mate's nearest wing. "He takes after us both."

The white jet vented heavily, stretching out the teased wing to lightly poke his mate in the arm. "Which means that teaching him self-control is probably out of the question."

Dai Atlas had been taking a sip of energon when Wing made that comment, and barely avoided spitting it back out, making an interesting sound as he tried to keep from either laughing or choking.

"Decidedly," Drift responded solemnly, somehow managing to keep from cracking up. "He's everything best and worst about us ... a perfect match."

That was just too much for Dai Atlas. The blue mech gave up trying not to laugh, shaking his helm at the both of them. "Just like with you two, life with Striker is certainly never going to be boring."

"Just hope that whoever he ends up with is mellow," Drift winked at the pair. "I can only imagine the chaos created if he pairs up with a spark as rebellious as his own."

"Oh, Primus," Wing groaned. "I don't even want to consider that. He creates enough chaos as it is already."

Axe snickered. "We thought the same of you, once. And look who you ended up with." He inclined his helm to Drift, grinning at the white grounder.

"Yes, but I make him seem mellow," Drift teased back.

Axe laughed at that. "Both you and creatorhood have mellowed him out. To a point, anyway."

Wing gave his creator a look, to which Axe responded with a smirk. Dai Atlas was struggling not to loose his composure again, hiding his snickers behind his cube.

"Only in some ways," Drift purred, reaching out across his bond to remind Wing of exactly how not mellow the jet was.

Wing squawked, swatting playfully at his mate. If he could blush, his faceplate would have been a very interesting color right then.

"I don't think there is a Knight here that isn't well aware of how you two haven't mellowed," Axe chuckled.

Wing made a face at the black triple changer, trying to look fierce but failing. Not even Dai Atlas could restrain a chuckle at his expression.

Drift leaned over and whispered in his bonded's audio. "Keep that up and I'll have to pull you out of here like Thorn did to our creation."

Wing stuck out his glossa at his mate, making Dai Atlas laugh at him. "Never grew up," the blue mech chuckled, reaching over to tap Wing lightly on the helm, pulling back his hand to avoid the resulting swat.

It made both their mates laugh, and Drift caught Wing's far cheek with a hand and turned his face for a searing kiss that left no doubt what he had on his processors.

~Mine,~ Drift growled across the bond, hot and bright and oh so seductive to the mech it was directed at.

~Yours,~ Wing purred in response, returning the kiss.

~And after this we won't be seeing them for another few joors,~ Axe commented to Dai Atlas, who snorted softly.

~Better not see them,~ Dai Atlas replied, watching his adopted creations wind themselves up before Wing pulled Drift to his pedes and towards the door.

Axe watched the two go, scooting a little closer to blue armor. "Soon, it will be Striker's turn to join the Circle as a full Knight."

"Which will be time to crash Wing and Drift when we tell them of their new training," Dai Atlas got that evil look on his face that made the Knights that saw it twitch uneasily.

Axe laughed, swatting blue armor. "You're freaking out our Knights. They're not used to seeing that expression on you." He leaned against his mate's side. "I'm looking forward to seeing their reactions... They raised Striker well, better than could have been anticipated."

"That they did," he agreed and schooled his face to something resembling the stern look he usually wore. "In spite of it all, Striker is a fine young mech, and he'll make a fine Knight. It's been vorns since he committed a serious infraction."

"So they do have what it takes the lead the Circle after us." Axe kept his voice down, not wanting to be overheard. While Knights could keep some things secret, other pieces of news spread like wildfire. This was not a topic Axe wanted all over the Citadel before he and his mate had had a chance to talk to the pair in question.

~Yes,~ Dai Atlas agreed, switching over to their bond for privacy as they finished their energon. ~They balance each other as well. Drift has the cold edge that even all that time at war could not create in Wing.~

~Drift can execute a traitor without it breaking him,~ Axe agreed.

~And all that time at war could not crush Wing's bright core, either.~ Dai Atlas put down his empty cube.

Axe simply smiled and leaned against his mate, bond and engine humming with gratitude for the fact.

and the end of this story, but if you find Striker intriguing, we're writing Charm and Charmer, the story of Striker/Thorn.

Striker: img62 .imageshack .us/img62/7862/strikerrecolor .png (also by switchxtrick)

Thorn: switchxtrick .deviantart .com/art/TFKnight-Thorn-272121375