HUNTER [.x]
Title: HUNTER
Fandom: Transformers
Rated: NC-17
Wordcount: 5200+
Pairing: OC/Devcon
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Non-con, field/sensornet-manipulation. Cybertronians with double equipage, period. Reference to past torture. Angst. Devcon in all his glitchy glory.
Disclaimier: Don't own, don't sue.
A/N: HUNTER is set in G1 contuinity, exploring Universe 03's take upon "Devcon the Bounty Hunter." It's also my first NaNoWriMo story, which rounded 162+ pages. The story follows Devcon from the end of issue Enter the Wreckers - Betrayal and through The Wreckers - Disclosure to meet up with canon at the start of Wreckers Finale 1. [ Prologue]. [ i]. [ ii]. [ iii]. [ iv]. [ v]. [ vi]. [ vii]. [ viii]. [ ix]
THE ENGINEER
.X
The tent was wide and ample. It had a high, lofty ceiling, lit with many golden spheres, all of them leading to the centre in a tasteful arragement. Devcon’s optics followed the spheres and there, bathed in soft, golden light, was a beautifully crafted dais.
He frowned, curiously looking around. The tent had a lush, rich feeling to it - a style meant to uphold a lazy, almost languid atmosphere. Vibrant colours, dozens of pretty pillows in golden and copper. Surrounding the dais were countless valuable objects. No doubt meant to give a mech the sensation of luxory. In the corners stood pedistals, filled with exotic-looking plants and crystal roses.
The dais, Devcon noted with a sinking feeling in his tank, was empty.
As he stepped through the tiny hall he’d moving through, he was met with the sight of a score of Cybertronians, all seated on low benches. Wares on display, pretty things all around. Behind them, there were closed off areas and to their left, a dark wall of the building behind. The actual shop, no doubt.
He cycled a deep intake and made sure to school his features, not giving anything but boredom away. The bots were restrained with chains; some formed as the real deal, others made to look as delicate jewelry. The slaves were also young models, and clearly unspoiled. New-sparks. Devcon’s frown deepened.
Slavers were sick bastards, but they certainly knew how to pick their trinkets.
”Anything you like?”
The merchant was watching him with intent optics, looking between him and the slaves. Devcon pursed his lips and shook his helm. No, he wasn’t interested in what he saw. Lathe wasn’t in this tent. If he’d been, he’d been sitting in the dais. With a shrug, he turned towards the exit, but was met with the merchant, holding his hand up. Devcon tensed, preparing for trouble and quite a lot of it, too.
”We have the expensive ones over here,” the merchant told him with a sickly little smile. He nodded towards the shadowed area of the tent, the one leading to the shop.
Devcon gave the building a questioning look. The opening was dark, the door narrow. No lights. No windows, no visible lamps. Fraggin’ perfect for an ambush. He bit back a snort, programming stirring in the back of his processor.
”Really.”
”Yes, we keep them out of the publics optics, mainly to maintain... It raises their price. They simply are expensive enough to be kept hidden away until we sell them in the auctions. For a wealthy mech, however, we can make an exception.”
It was a trap, and a badly constructed one at that. How stupid did this mech think he was? Who the frag would be that naïve? It was hilarious, and he felt quite offended by the idea that he would let himself be lured into a dark building, one with such a narrow door. In a place where he wouldn’t be able to transform...
Huh...
Suddenly he wondered if one of the sentries survived, or if the merchants all knew his designation and looks. Either that, or some fool had put a request on his aft. Obduction wasn’t that unusual in among the scum of the ‘verse, after all. If he’d captured the optics of a wealthy merchant, or a buyer willing to have him as a toy... Aw, well. It wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Not as long as Devcon still had a spark and a rather nasty cannon mounted upon his helm.
::Acid? I’m possitive this was a trap. I’ll try to get myself out of this situation but if I fail, are you anyplace near me?::
::Following your signal, hunter. Show me how the tent looks like?::
”Now, if you just follow me,” the merchant was saying, but Devcon ignored him and sent the coordinates to the ex-merc. He was just about done when four signals suddenly closed up on him.
He tensed and pulled his full height, growling under his breath. Surrounded, and more signals were coming his way. At least a dozen. Aw, smelt. This wasn’t his Solar, was it?
”If you just obey and come quietly,” a mech told him, ”no harm will come to you.”
Devcon shot the slaver a nasty look, then gave the merchant a little, grim smile. ”You do this to every customer, mech? Or only the handsome ones?”
”Don’t look so surprised, mech. I know you aren’t a slaver, pass or not. Besides, you really think you can get away with doing what you’ve been up? There are rules to follow, codes to asnwer too. You clearly aren’t from Itx, but down here, we don’t care for strangers getting a free pass to the Black Market. The Market looks after its own and disposes of those we don’t want here.”
…frag.
”What do you want?”
The merchant’s optics gleamed. ”You sold quite a few gadgets with Ram’s signature, didn’t you?”
”What about it?”
The merchant gave a silent order, nodding to the mech who’d spoken before. The glitch grabbed his wrists and Devcon fought the instinct to shoot a hole through the merchant’s chestplate. He needed answers before being taken away, and he needed Acid to find him before he was taken away, by all means.
”Such a wealthy mech as you, unknown, walking straight into the Black Market. Did you really think we would let you u walk away with all those creds? Don’t be a fool. Now, what is your designation?”
Devcon could have kissed the ugly merchant; they didn’t know who he was! Oh, thank you Primus! He sagged in relief, letting the slaver think he was afraid. For a moment there, he’d actually been worried, but this meant he still held the upper hand. Besides, as long as the Engineer wasn’t aware of his whereabouts, everything was all right.
He shifted the weight between his toes and rolled his shoulders. Well, it looked like he had a few helms to break and afts to kick…
”Don’t move,” the slaver snapped and the mechs surrounding him put their hands upon his frame. ”I told you-”
”Don’t. Touch. Me. Believe me, you don’t want me to lose my temper,” he told the world in general, his vocals soft. ”Don’t push me, mech. I minding my own business here, and I don’t for your little rules or what ever you demand of other slavers. I’m just here looking for a very specific slave and I won’t be kept away from it. Now, tell your guards to move away…”
”Or?”
Devcon was about to tell him quite a few nice bad things he’d love to do, but the words became a barely audible moan as his sensors flared to life, making his engines rev loudly. The merchant’s mocking glare gave away to a terrified stare as a knife was put against his throat, slowly revealing the rest of a big, hulky mech.
”Or his back-up will cut you in half,” the ex-merch purred.
That purr did things to him, and Devcon swallowed hard. Frag, he could have kissed Acid for this stunt, but decided to make a short process of the four mechs surrounding him instead.
The first got a fist straight in the face, falling soundlessly into stasis. The second got a kick in his midsection and was hurled straight at into a third mech who was reaching for his weapon. When Devcon turned, he was met with a blaster promptly pointed at his face.
”Back off,” the guard growled.
”I don’t think so,” Devcon purred, his hands curling into fists. ”You tried to capture me, not the other way around. Your employer tried to fool me, remember? Now, if you want to get out of this situation alive, you might as well do as you’re told, mech.”
The guard growled and pushed the muzzle against Devcon’s cheek, trying to intimidate him. Behind them, Acid had cuffed the merchant and was binding the others, walking around as if Devcon and the guard weren’t there at all. The mech’s optics were wide.
”Tell him to stop doing that!”
Devcon laughed. ”I don’t give him orders, pal.”
”Well, do it anyway!”
Acid’s pleasant vocals drifted over to them. ”Mech, he doesn’t order me around. That’s why I like him.”
”Damn right,” Devcon muttered and raised his optics to the guard. ”I never really liked belonging to anybot, see, so when I see such things happen, I start asking myself wether to do anything about it or…”
He frowned, suddenly not sure at what the slag he ways aiming at. He silent as he felt the heat from the bigger mech against his frame. Acid purred against his audio, completly ignoring the confused guard.
”…or?”
The deep rumble made Devcon shiver and shutter his optics. He wanted to say something sharp and mean, but he only revved his engines in response. When he unshuttered his optics, they were possibly burning, just as the rest of him, and the guard yelped, taking a step back, but it was too late.
The hunter’s fist hit him square in the chestplate just as Acid broke the hand holding the weapon. The mech shouted once, then tripped over a table, falling into a whimpering heap. Acid left Devcon basically standing on his toes and moved slowly forward. Before the guard managed to scream, he was bound and gagged.
Devcon watched him stand up and stalk closer. Trapped, that was all he could think of. Perfectly aware of the quiet slaves behind them, he forced himself to meet the green gaze. The sound of his vents were filling the air with a whine, and even worse - his shallow intakes were too fraggin’ loud. Oh, he was glitching so damn bad…
Acid stood before him, watching him with that fair, square face of his, a questioning look upon his optics.
”Or what,” he demanded to know.
”…forget it,” Devcon whispered and turned away. His frame was shaking, all needy, sensors already rippling. He took a step towards the merchant, but a hand upon his shoulder stopped him. He tensed and danced out of the grip only to be grabbed again. He hissed and pushed, kicking the bigger mech onto the floor.
Acid came up and threw himself at him and the contact made Devcon moan hoarsly, his frame hot to the the touch, trembling, taut.
”I asked you; or what?”
Acid’s breath caressed Devcon’s audio. He squirmed, not really trapped, merely held. The hunter hissed and arched, growling, torn between lust and anger.
”Fraggin’ bastard! What the frag do you want?!”
There was something there, in those optics, something pleading. ”Hunter, just answer my question. Please.”
It took all of Devcon’s self dicipline and control, but in the end, he put the idea of turning his helm and kiss Acid out of his mind. And… oh, no. No!
He arched, face slack with pleasure as his field and sensornet was attacked again. Oh, frag…! He bit his lower lip to keep his moans back and glared. Acid was watching him closely, his time able to see him, and the way he reacted, something much like wonder all over his face. Devcon hissed; he was being played, and skillfully. He desperately wanted more, needed more. Frag it to the Pit!
Ram had been right. Why the frag hadn’t he fixed that old glitch of his? And now he was lying under the ex-merc, writhing helplessly…
”I…!” he growled and capituled. ”I ask myself wether to do a-anything about it or get the frag away before I get caught!”
A double meaning, perhaps, but he didn’t care. He pushed with both arms, trying to dislodge the heavy frame on top of him. This wasn’t supposed to happen, no matter how good it felt, no matter how much he needed it, this wasn’t the right time for it, slaggit! He growled got a hand in between them, hitting hard enough to dent the dark, strong frame. Acid bite down on a sharp cry and and let him go, the camouflage falling off them as he lost his concentration. The sensation went missing, leaving the hunter gasping, hot and bothered.
This is insane, fraggin’ glitch…!
Devcon got onto his knees, watching the bigger mech warily, his chest raising and falling erratically. The silence was heavily loaded, charged with too many things better left unsaid. Acid said nothing, slowly getting up, sitting on the floor, staring at nothing in a way that made Devcon tilt his helm.
There was an air of anguish about him, but he’d never been one to make others feel better so frag him. What did Acid want anyway? What did he expect? Devcon wasn’t known to give in, nor to trust others - frag, he never put himself in situations in which he needed to do more than watch his own back. Sure, now and then he made a point of keeping an optic out for comrade-in-arms, but fighting against a foe and getting a bit happy wasn’t what was going on! Frag him, frag him twice over!
As the whine from his vents eventually calmed down, Devcon glared at the ex-merc. He realised that no more than a few klikks had passed, yet the glitch wouldn’t move, just sat there, looking defeated - which was all right in Devcon book. He looked around the tent; the slaves were sitting in clungs, whispering among themselves. The four guards were either in stasis or staring at them, their optics wide. The merchant was promptly bound and gagged, leaned against a heavy chair.
”I can’t leave,” Acid said all the sudden, as if talking to himself. ”No matter how much I try, I keep failing. She touches me and I just tell her I’m hers. I mean it too, and then there’s no thought of just walking away. Something she does, when she touches me… Frag, it’s been like that ever since my old crew and I tried to take over the Lazy Tide.”
”You want me to pity you?” Devcon’s vocals were cold. He felt exposed and he fraggin’ was.
”I’m sorry. I just needed to-”
”Needed what?” Devcon snapped and got up, still on shaky thrusters. He moved swiftly and grabbed the ex-merc’s helm, forcing him to look up.
Acid was about to say something when he saw the tiny sun litting up. He shuddered and stared at the cannon’s muzzle, training itself onto him, locking onto his signature. He swallowed hard, but let his arms hang by his sides, seemingly tame. It sickened Devcon, made him want to throttle the bigger mech and beat the living crap out of him, if so, just to get a raise out of him.
”Well? What did you think you needed to hear from me, in a tent with at least some fifteen other mechs, a few of them almost succeeding in kidnapped me? Are you out of your processor? What the frag is up with you anyway?”
Acid pulled away and shuttered his green optics. ”You… you disrupted what ever Prisma does to me,” he answered with those low, vibrant vocals of his. ”She noticed it too and wanted to know what you’d done.”
Devcon froze. ”...and?”
”I told her nothing,” Acid murmured, a look of pain in his face. ”I was wrong to force this upon you, the first time was an accident, this second one… I just needed to know what makes you break her hold, and how you do it. I’ve been fighting so long, mech, so long, and I’m tired. She makes sure to have me around, uses me as it fits her and each time all I do is to protect her, to tell her I’m hers. I’m every bit her slave as these bastards are somebot elses. Then that thing happened and… and, suddenly I’m wondering if I might just manage to break free this time.”
He unshuttered his optics and in the golden light of the lamps, the gaze was intense enought to make Devcon gasp.
”Apology accepted,” the hunter grunted, understanding that sensation a bit too well. He sighed and let his grip go softer, almost a caress. ”I don’t know what it is, pal. Perhaps my it’s something in my sensors, when they flare…?”
He made a face at the reference to a most awkward situation he’d rather forget all about. ”It wouldn’t surprise me if some of my inner workings, when occupied, might flush some of that crap out of your systems.”
There was a ghost of a smile to be seen in Acid’s face and he nodded, still on his knees. Devcon found himself staring, his frame going a notch warmer at their proximity. He opened his mouth to say something when the ex-merc lifted a hand and put it against his thigh, making him almost jump out of his own armour.
”You better stop doing that,” he growled, moving away, letting go of the mech completely.
Acid tilted his helm. ”Do what?”
”My frame is too sensitive, so I don’t let other’s touch, got it?”
”You kept touching me, hunter.”
”Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m fraggin’ glitching.”
The ex-merc snorted and got up onto his peds. Devcon watched him warily, trying to figure out what the mech was up to.
”That’s what you call being in need of a good, hard-”
Acid’s optics widened as Devcon’s blaster was pushed against his mouth. The hunter was growling, his optics burning too bright, his frame poised to fight or flee. Acid was tall enough for Devcon to tilt his helm when standing this close to him. It was a strange sensation, really, to look up when addressing a mech, but that wasn’t in the hunter’s processor as he pressed the blaster against Acid.
”Watch your words, pal.” he snarled. ”And do yourself the favour of not assuming too much when it comes to me, got it? Right now, you are of help in this little hunt of mine, but as soon as I’m done finding that wayward account manager of yours, I’m out.”
There was panic in Acid’s optics. ::You’d leave me here, knowing I’m her slave?::
”I’ll leave you to rust,” Devcon hissed, ”if you try any of this slag again. I’m playing the nice card right now, but seeing as you are an ex-merc and a smuggler both, don’t take my kindness for granted. I’ve killed many of your lot and I’ll do it again. Don’t push me, or you’ll be just another number in my record.”
”You wouldn’t,” Acid whispered, his vocals uncertain.
”…really, now? What makes you sure I won’t dispose of you once we’re done here?
He left the rest unsaid. Acid flinched and stepped back. There were things in the verse you didn’t mess with and bounty hunters being one of those. There were reasons to why mercs ganged up on hunters; going out after one all by yourself meant a slow, painful death. He nodded, utterly defeated and looked towards the exit, making himself usefull for the hunter keeping watch.
Devcon ignored the ex-merc. He would deal with him at a latter stage. Right now, there were things far more important. Getting the frag out of Prisma’s way was the one he would concentrate upon right now. First things first.
He turned to the merchant, looking at him with optics filled with frustration and quite a bit of loath. Stalking slowly forwards, he noticed how the slagger shuddered, shaking his helm as if trying to wake up from a late night with a batch of bad energon. Devcon smirked and took the gag away.
”Now, let’s have a little talk, shall we?
The merchant swallowed, still restrained, his comm channels blocked by a handy little device fastened upon his helm. He would have to ask Acid what that was, when they were hunting Lathe’s thieves down. Devcon pulled him up, half pushing, half carrying him towards a chair and dumping him there. He cast a look at Acid, but the mech was keeping an optic on the entrance and the guards both. Good.
”I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t harm me!”
The hunter snorted. ”Says the mech who tried to kidnap me? Why, you are a nasty piece of work, aren’t you? Now, look at my cannon - yes, it’s pointing at you. It will burn a hole through your chassis… Slowly, if I want to. Now, why would you kidnap me?”
The merchant licked his lips, terrified, staring at his helm with round optics. ”It’s the r-rules of the Black Market. You’ve been throwing creds around, you got a pass, yet no mech knows you. It was decided you needed a lesson. I-I’m just the one who got you close enough.”
”I’m being monitored?”
”We saw you up there, in the tunnels… And w-we knew about you the moment you started to throw you weight around with Turner.”
Of course. Devcon snorted and gave the dark door a glance. He nodded towards the building and the shadowed entrance. ”What’s over there?”
”My o-office.”
”And what else? I’m not stupid, mech, so don’t try to fool me. What’s waiting in there? Slavers, mercs or something worse?”
The mech clamped his mouth shut and looked away. Devcon sighed and raised his hand to hit him when-
…a thousand little glossas attacked him at once. Devcon gasped and turned to fight Acid off, but the mech just pulled him away from the annoyingly stubborn merchant. He was just about to slam his fist into the well formed frame with Acid shook his helm, holding a finger in front of his mouth. Devcon glared at him, shivering already, wondering what the frag the mech was up to now. Acid moved slowly, taking Devcon with him, pulling him away from the door.
::What the fr-::
::No! Don’t... Just be quiet! They are almost here!::
Who, Devcon wanted to ask, but it was hard to keep his moans at bay. The merchant’s optics were round, desperately looking around for them. No matter how good, no, bad, the camouflage felt, the huner suddenly realised that it was indeed the best weapon he’d seen in a mech. They backed slowly away from the chair and the daise, the ex-merc leading them closer to the open door leading into the dark building. Devcon arched, biting back a loud moan and Acid noticed it, frowning, begging for him to keep his silence.
What was so important? What-
”They are gone? They were just here!”
”Yes, but something… the signal is jammed! I can’t find either of them!”
”That useless merchant, where is he?”
”In… in the tent? He just hailed me!”
”Move it, he’s alone with Acid!”
Those… were vocals he knew. He swayed and had to cling to Acid, his frame shaking, his engines revving. He shook his helm at this, loking stricken - they would hear, wouldn’t they? He couldn’t keep his engines quiet and his frame felt as if it would overload again. Acid shook his helm.
”They won’t hear,” he whispered softly. ”Just move slowly away from the centre…”
Devcon did what he was told, couldn’t really process beyond the fact that Acid was hiding him from Prisma and the hacker. He moved quietly, softly, the darkness that spilled from that open door coming closer. He was on his way to protest when Prisma and Caliper entered the tent.
They weren’t alone.
”What…? Hey, somebot help Root up!”
Prisma hovered in the middle of the room, ordering the mechs around. Devcon stared at her and at the various mercs hurrying forward to help their comrades. As they helped the merchant up, the smuggler beckonned him forward.
”Report,” she snapped.
”They... They just went missing! As soon as your pet realised I sent for you, he grabbed the other and they went missing!”
”Slaggit! How long ago was that?”
”Just a few klikks!”
”Caliper, search this place. Have a few of the others sent to the Lazy Tide, just in case. Also, contact Lathe and tell him that the charade is over. Acid, the little malfunctioning drone, somehow got his processor back. As soon as the hunter is down, I’ll pick him apart to figure out how he managed it. Well? What are you waiting for? Sound the alarm!”
Devcon suddenly felt the need to empty his tank. This he hadn’t expected. Caliper moved closer and closer, his little pad and his big, bright optics scanning the whole room. They would be found, he was sure of it, and he wouldn’t be able to take to wings and Acid…
”Deep Edge says nobot has used the elevator!”
”There has been no reading upon their spark signals!” another shouted from outside.
”No one in the tunnels!”
Prisma growled, furious. She kept giving orders around and soon just a handfull of mechs were in the tent. The slaves had been taken out and Caliper was snarling under his breath, trying hard to hack their location. Whatever was going on, Devcon decided, it would end bad. He was clinging to Acid, pushing his heated, shaking frame against the bigger mech. The ex-merc was stroking his back, murmuring small pleads for him keeping quiet or else they would be found. Devcon’s processor was muddled with lust, fierce and hard. It was hard to keep the overload out of his systems, to keep it back, so hard…
”What do we do now?”
A new mech had entered the scene of crime and Devcon managed to give him a look. It was a inmensly handsome fellow; strong of built, paintjob white and light green. A grounder, by the look of his peds and armour, yet so very pretty. Not his type, at all. Prisma and Caliper moved to him, filling him in.
”Both are gone?” The dismay was clear in the handsome mech’s face.
”It’s something they do, when together,” Caliper explained, rubbing his helm. ”I have no idea how it’s possible! I had access to the hunter earlier, but every channel and link is down. Acid normally can’t disappear for me like this.”
”How did this happen? It was such a good set up! The hunter was practically eating from our hands!”
”Acid happened,” Prisma snarled. ”That ex-merc has been fighting against the programming for quite a while now. Lathe, I need you to contact every port from here to CSSB-16 and make sure the guilds keep sentries along the routes.”
”The hunter is a fly-model, he’ll get out and leave Acid behind”, Caliper said, his earlier sparkling mannerism all but gone. ”Logically, Devcon will try to track you down, Prisma, to get his bleedin’ his answers. If he goes near you-”
”He does, and he’ll be left in pieces,” Prisma said, her vocals devoid of emotions. ”Cyclonus made it clear; Devcon can not be allowed leave Itx. We will make sure to keep our part of the bargain.”
Lathe refreshed his optics, shaking his helm. ”Acid knows his way around this place now. He’ll be able to take Devcon with him, due to that camouflage of his. We need to make sure they don’t get out of the Black market, for starters. If they go near you and manage to corner you, Prisma, what will you do?”
The femme smiled sweetly.
”Then he’ll know why I’m known as ”the Engineer,” and he’ll regret he ever set out to hunt Cyclonus.
~
They were alone and still Acid wouldn’t let the camouflage down.
At some point, Devcon had put his arms around the bigger mech, and was now hiding his face against the strong neck. Gasping every now and then, arching against Acid, he tried to push the current of bliss away, tried so hard to process. His processor, sadly, had taken a vacation, and his base coding was too occupied suggesting things better left undone.
Every sensor in his frame howled in pleasure, and if he didn’t crash now, he would surely end up in stasis. His thighs - his wings, oh sweet Primus, they were shivering under the onslaught. He couldn’t even find the strength to lift his helm, and he fought valiantly to keep the steadily rising wave of ecstasy off. If he just could process, but it was hard, too damn hard to fight against what wrecked his very core.
The only thing that held his glitch back, was the memory of the current happenings. Of Prisma and her crew. Of Lathe. He’d seen them. He’d heard them. It wasn’t a feverish nightmare, it was real.
Prisma, you slagger… Fooled me twice, did you? Here I’ve been hunting you and you’ve been under my nose, leading me in a wild goose hunt. Frag you, frag you trice over!
Acid shifted his stance and lifted his helm from Devcon’s own, looking around. The hunter stirred and unshuttered his optics, heat rolling off his frame. They were still a few steps away from the dark entrance of the very building they were leaning against. The tent was seemingly empty, but Devcon knew that it wouldn’t have been left unmonitored. Caliper had been angry, working his aft to pieces to track them down, but he’d been forced to give up. Lathe, the pretty mech, had offered Prisma his arm and they’d left a few mega-cycles ago.
The hunter swallowed hard, his systems overworked, his vents whining still. How come they hadn’t heard him? He was basically shouting, but still no mech wouldn’t notice them. He imagined it had to do with Acid’s ability to fade away and possibly, the combination the mechs earlier had mentioned.
He still felt every little glossa licking him and if he didn’t concentrate on the steady pulse of Acid’s spark, he would have lost it and howled his throat raw.
The whole mess had exploded and his prey - Prisma - had gotten away. He would have growled if he’d had the energy for it, but as it stood, he barely could lift an arm to push away from Acid. Would Acid turn out to be a traitor too? It was a foolish thing to let his guard down, but as it was, Acid had proved himsel worthy.
He stirred, then looked up, drawing the green gaze to him. No words needed for the simple truth of it; Acid had saved him when he, at any moment, could have given him up to his quarry. They were stuck on this together and needed to cooperate to get the frag out of the lower sections. He shuddered, uncounciously pressing into the ex-merc, needing-
”Can’t, I… can’t. Not when you are like this,” Acid whispered, his hands still on Devcon’s shoulders, kneading softly. The mech looked worried, probably wondering wether the hunter would dispose of him, now that he’d done this a third time. He licked his dry lips, worry etched in his face. Devcon nodded, swallowing hard and fought the impulse to lean up and taste those lips.
An eternity passed by.
”Acid,” Devcon whispered hoarsely, knees buckling, legs almost giving out. ”I can’t. You need to stop it or I’ll…”
The ex-merc shot a glance at the door and shook his helm, but Devcon was diciplined enough to know when he needed to sit down. He growled and pushed, taking the matter into his own hands. Once Acid understood he meant business, the mech sighed and pulled his knife, just in case. He grabbed Devcon's hand, dragging him along, invisible still. Devcon barely registrated it, however, and stumbled after him into the dark opening.
Fandom: Transformers
Rated: NC-17
Wordcount: 5200+
Pairing: OC/Devcon
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Non-con, field/sensornet-manipulation. Cybertronians with double equipage, period. Reference to past torture. Angst. Devcon in all his glitchy glory.
Disclaimier: Don't own, don't sue.
A/N: HUNTER is set in G1 contuinity, exploring Universe 03's take upon "Devcon the Bounty Hunter." It's also my first NaNoWriMo story, which rounded 162+ pages. The story follows Devcon from the end of issue Enter the Wreckers - Betrayal and through The Wreckers - Disclosure to meet up with canon at the start of Wreckers Finale 1. [ Prologue]. [ i]. [ ii]. [ iii]. [ iv]. [ v]. [ vi]. [ vii]. [ viii]. [ ix]
THE ENGINEER
.X
The tent was wide and ample. It had a high, lofty ceiling, lit with many golden spheres, all of them leading to the centre in a tasteful arragement. Devcon’s optics followed the spheres and there, bathed in soft, golden light, was a beautifully crafted dais.
He frowned, curiously looking around. The tent had a lush, rich feeling to it - a style meant to uphold a lazy, almost languid atmosphere. Vibrant colours, dozens of pretty pillows in golden and copper. Surrounding the dais were countless valuable objects. No doubt meant to give a mech the sensation of luxory. In the corners stood pedistals, filled with exotic-looking plants and crystal roses.
The dais, Devcon noted with a sinking feeling in his tank, was empty.
As he stepped through the tiny hall he’d moving through, he was met with the sight of a score of Cybertronians, all seated on low benches. Wares on display, pretty things all around. Behind them, there were closed off areas and to their left, a dark wall of the building behind. The actual shop, no doubt.
He cycled a deep intake and made sure to school his features, not giving anything but boredom away. The bots were restrained with chains; some formed as the real deal, others made to look as delicate jewelry. The slaves were also young models, and clearly unspoiled. New-sparks. Devcon’s frown deepened.
Slavers were sick bastards, but they certainly knew how to pick their trinkets.
”Anything you like?”
The merchant was watching him with intent optics, looking between him and the slaves. Devcon pursed his lips and shook his helm. No, he wasn’t interested in what he saw. Lathe wasn’t in this tent. If he’d been, he’d been sitting in the dais. With a shrug, he turned towards the exit, but was met with the merchant, holding his hand up. Devcon tensed, preparing for trouble and quite a lot of it, too.
”We have the expensive ones over here,” the merchant told him with a sickly little smile. He nodded towards the shadowed area of the tent, the one leading to the shop.
Devcon gave the building a questioning look. The opening was dark, the door narrow. No lights. No windows, no visible lamps. Fraggin’ perfect for an ambush. He bit back a snort, programming stirring in the back of his processor.
”Really.”
”Yes, we keep them out of the publics optics, mainly to maintain... It raises their price. They simply are expensive enough to be kept hidden away until we sell them in the auctions. For a wealthy mech, however, we can make an exception.”
It was a trap, and a badly constructed one at that. How stupid did this mech think he was? Who the frag would be that naïve? It was hilarious, and he felt quite offended by the idea that he would let himself be lured into a dark building, one with such a narrow door. In a place where he wouldn’t be able to transform...
Huh...
Suddenly he wondered if one of the sentries survived, or if the merchants all knew his designation and looks. Either that, or some fool had put a request on his aft. Obduction wasn’t that unusual in among the scum of the ‘verse, after all. If he’d captured the optics of a wealthy merchant, or a buyer willing to have him as a toy... Aw, well. It wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Not as long as Devcon still had a spark and a rather nasty cannon mounted upon his helm.
::Acid? I’m possitive this was a trap. I’ll try to get myself out of this situation but if I fail, are you anyplace near me?::
::Following your signal, hunter. Show me how the tent looks like?::
”Now, if you just follow me,” the merchant was saying, but Devcon ignored him and sent the coordinates to the ex-merc. He was just about done when four signals suddenly closed up on him.
He tensed and pulled his full height, growling under his breath. Surrounded, and more signals were coming his way. At least a dozen. Aw, smelt. This wasn’t his Solar, was it?
”If you just obey and come quietly,” a mech told him, ”no harm will come to you.”
Devcon shot the slaver a nasty look, then gave the merchant a little, grim smile. ”You do this to every customer, mech? Or only the handsome ones?”
”Don’t look so surprised, mech. I know you aren’t a slaver, pass or not. Besides, you really think you can get away with doing what you’ve been up? There are rules to follow, codes to asnwer too. You clearly aren’t from Itx, but down here, we don’t care for strangers getting a free pass to the Black Market. The Market looks after its own and disposes of those we don’t want here.”
…frag.
”What do you want?”
The merchant’s optics gleamed. ”You sold quite a few gadgets with Ram’s signature, didn’t you?”
”What about it?”
The merchant gave a silent order, nodding to the mech who’d spoken before. The glitch grabbed his wrists and Devcon fought the instinct to shoot a hole through the merchant’s chestplate. He needed answers before being taken away, and he needed Acid to find him before he was taken away, by all means.
”Such a wealthy mech as you, unknown, walking straight into the Black Market. Did you really think we would let you u walk away with all those creds? Don’t be a fool. Now, what is your designation?”
Devcon could have kissed the ugly merchant; they didn’t know who he was! Oh, thank you Primus! He sagged in relief, letting the slaver think he was afraid. For a moment there, he’d actually been worried, but this meant he still held the upper hand. Besides, as long as the Engineer wasn’t aware of his whereabouts, everything was all right.
He shifted the weight between his toes and rolled his shoulders. Well, it looked like he had a few helms to break and afts to kick…
”Don’t move,” the slaver snapped and the mechs surrounding him put their hands upon his frame. ”I told you-”
”Don’t. Touch. Me. Believe me, you don’t want me to lose my temper,” he told the world in general, his vocals soft. ”Don’t push me, mech. I minding my own business here, and I don’t for your little rules or what ever you demand of other slavers. I’m just here looking for a very specific slave and I won’t be kept away from it. Now, tell your guards to move away…”
”Or?”
Devcon was about to tell him quite a few nice bad things he’d love to do, but the words became a barely audible moan as his sensors flared to life, making his engines rev loudly. The merchant’s mocking glare gave away to a terrified stare as a knife was put against his throat, slowly revealing the rest of a big, hulky mech.
”Or his back-up will cut you in half,” the ex-merch purred.
That purr did things to him, and Devcon swallowed hard. Frag, he could have kissed Acid for this stunt, but decided to make a short process of the four mechs surrounding him instead.
The first got a fist straight in the face, falling soundlessly into stasis. The second got a kick in his midsection and was hurled straight at into a third mech who was reaching for his weapon. When Devcon turned, he was met with a blaster promptly pointed at his face.
”Back off,” the guard growled.
”I don’t think so,” Devcon purred, his hands curling into fists. ”You tried to capture me, not the other way around. Your employer tried to fool me, remember? Now, if you want to get out of this situation alive, you might as well do as you’re told, mech.”
The guard growled and pushed the muzzle against Devcon’s cheek, trying to intimidate him. Behind them, Acid had cuffed the merchant and was binding the others, walking around as if Devcon and the guard weren’t there at all. The mech’s optics were wide.
”Tell him to stop doing that!”
Devcon laughed. ”I don’t give him orders, pal.”
”Well, do it anyway!”
Acid’s pleasant vocals drifted over to them. ”Mech, he doesn’t order me around. That’s why I like him.”
”Damn right,” Devcon muttered and raised his optics to the guard. ”I never really liked belonging to anybot, see, so when I see such things happen, I start asking myself wether to do anything about it or…”
He frowned, suddenly not sure at what the slag he ways aiming at. He silent as he felt the heat from the bigger mech against his frame. Acid purred against his audio, completly ignoring the confused guard.
”…or?”
The deep rumble made Devcon shiver and shutter his optics. He wanted to say something sharp and mean, but he only revved his engines in response. When he unshuttered his optics, they were possibly burning, just as the rest of him, and the guard yelped, taking a step back, but it was too late.
The hunter’s fist hit him square in the chestplate just as Acid broke the hand holding the weapon. The mech shouted once, then tripped over a table, falling into a whimpering heap. Acid left Devcon basically standing on his toes and moved slowly forward. Before the guard managed to scream, he was bound and gagged.
Devcon watched him stand up and stalk closer. Trapped, that was all he could think of. Perfectly aware of the quiet slaves behind them, he forced himself to meet the green gaze. The sound of his vents were filling the air with a whine, and even worse - his shallow intakes were too fraggin’ loud. Oh, he was glitching so damn bad…
Acid stood before him, watching him with that fair, square face of his, a questioning look upon his optics.
”Or what,” he demanded to know.
”…forget it,” Devcon whispered and turned away. His frame was shaking, all needy, sensors already rippling. He took a step towards the merchant, but a hand upon his shoulder stopped him. He tensed and danced out of the grip only to be grabbed again. He hissed and pushed, kicking the bigger mech onto the floor.
Acid came up and threw himself at him and the contact made Devcon moan hoarsly, his frame hot to the the touch, trembling, taut.
”I asked you; or what?”
Acid’s breath caressed Devcon’s audio. He squirmed, not really trapped, merely held. The hunter hissed and arched, growling, torn between lust and anger.
”Fraggin’ bastard! What the frag do you want?!”
There was something there, in those optics, something pleading. ”Hunter, just answer my question. Please.”
It took all of Devcon’s self dicipline and control, but in the end, he put the idea of turning his helm and kiss Acid out of his mind. And… oh, no. No!
He arched, face slack with pleasure as his field and sensornet was attacked again. Oh, frag…! He bit his lower lip to keep his moans back and glared. Acid was watching him closely, his time able to see him, and the way he reacted, something much like wonder all over his face. Devcon hissed; he was being played, and skillfully. He desperately wanted more, needed more. Frag it to the Pit!
Ram had been right. Why the frag hadn’t he fixed that old glitch of his? And now he was lying under the ex-merc, writhing helplessly…
”I…!” he growled and capituled. ”I ask myself wether to do a-anything about it or get the frag away before I get caught!”
A double meaning, perhaps, but he didn’t care. He pushed with both arms, trying to dislodge the heavy frame on top of him. This wasn’t supposed to happen, no matter how good it felt, no matter how much he needed it, this wasn’t the right time for it, slaggit! He growled got a hand in between them, hitting hard enough to dent the dark, strong frame. Acid bite down on a sharp cry and and let him go, the camouflage falling off them as he lost his concentration. The sensation went missing, leaving the hunter gasping, hot and bothered.
This is insane, fraggin’ glitch…!
Devcon got onto his knees, watching the bigger mech warily, his chest raising and falling erratically. The silence was heavily loaded, charged with too many things better left unsaid. Acid said nothing, slowly getting up, sitting on the floor, staring at nothing in a way that made Devcon tilt his helm.
There was an air of anguish about him, but he’d never been one to make others feel better so frag him. What did Acid want anyway? What did he expect? Devcon wasn’t known to give in, nor to trust others - frag, he never put himself in situations in which he needed to do more than watch his own back. Sure, now and then he made a point of keeping an optic out for comrade-in-arms, but fighting against a foe and getting a bit happy wasn’t what was going on! Frag him, frag him twice over!
As the whine from his vents eventually calmed down, Devcon glared at the ex-merc. He realised that no more than a few klikks had passed, yet the glitch wouldn’t move, just sat there, looking defeated - which was all right in Devcon book. He looked around the tent; the slaves were sitting in clungs, whispering among themselves. The four guards were either in stasis or staring at them, their optics wide. The merchant was promptly bound and gagged, leaned against a heavy chair.
”I can’t leave,” Acid said all the sudden, as if talking to himself. ”No matter how much I try, I keep failing. She touches me and I just tell her I’m hers. I mean it too, and then there’s no thought of just walking away. Something she does, when she touches me… Frag, it’s been like that ever since my old crew and I tried to take over the Lazy Tide.”
”You want me to pity you?” Devcon’s vocals were cold. He felt exposed and he fraggin’ was.
”I’m sorry. I just needed to-”
”Needed what?” Devcon snapped and got up, still on shaky thrusters. He moved swiftly and grabbed the ex-merc’s helm, forcing him to look up.
Acid was about to say something when he saw the tiny sun litting up. He shuddered and stared at the cannon’s muzzle, training itself onto him, locking onto his signature. He swallowed hard, but let his arms hang by his sides, seemingly tame. It sickened Devcon, made him want to throttle the bigger mech and beat the living crap out of him, if so, just to get a raise out of him.
”Well? What did you think you needed to hear from me, in a tent with at least some fifteen other mechs, a few of them almost succeeding in kidnapped me? Are you out of your processor? What the frag is up with you anyway?”
Acid pulled away and shuttered his green optics. ”You… you disrupted what ever Prisma does to me,” he answered with those low, vibrant vocals of his. ”She noticed it too and wanted to know what you’d done.”
Devcon froze. ”...and?”
”I told her nothing,” Acid murmured, a look of pain in his face. ”I was wrong to force this upon you, the first time was an accident, this second one… I just needed to know what makes you break her hold, and how you do it. I’ve been fighting so long, mech, so long, and I’m tired. She makes sure to have me around, uses me as it fits her and each time all I do is to protect her, to tell her I’m hers. I’m every bit her slave as these bastards are somebot elses. Then that thing happened and… and, suddenly I’m wondering if I might just manage to break free this time.”
He unshuttered his optics and in the golden light of the lamps, the gaze was intense enought to make Devcon gasp.
”Apology accepted,” the hunter grunted, understanding that sensation a bit too well. He sighed and let his grip go softer, almost a caress. ”I don’t know what it is, pal. Perhaps my it’s something in my sensors, when they flare…?”
He made a face at the reference to a most awkward situation he’d rather forget all about. ”It wouldn’t surprise me if some of my inner workings, when occupied, might flush some of that crap out of your systems.”
There was a ghost of a smile to be seen in Acid’s face and he nodded, still on his knees. Devcon found himself staring, his frame going a notch warmer at their proximity. He opened his mouth to say something when the ex-merc lifted a hand and put it against his thigh, making him almost jump out of his own armour.
”You better stop doing that,” he growled, moving away, letting go of the mech completely.
Acid tilted his helm. ”Do what?”
”My frame is too sensitive, so I don’t let other’s touch, got it?”
”You kept touching me, hunter.”
”Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m fraggin’ glitching.”
The ex-merc snorted and got up onto his peds. Devcon watched him warily, trying to figure out what the mech was up to.
”That’s what you call being in need of a good, hard-”
Acid’s optics widened as Devcon’s blaster was pushed against his mouth. The hunter was growling, his optics burning too bright, his frame poised to fight or flee. Acid was tall enough for Devcon to tilt his helm when standing this close to him. It was a strange sensation, really, to look up when addressing a mech, but that wasn’t in the hunter’s processor as he pressed the blaster against Acid.
”Watch your words, pal.” he snarled. ”And do yourself the favour of not assuming too much when it comes to me, got it? Right now, you are of help in this little hunt of mine, but as soon as I’m done finding that wayward account manager of yours, I’m out.”
There was panic in Acid’s optics. ::You’d leave me here, knowing I’m her slave?::
”I’ll leave you to rust,” Devcon hissed, ”if you try any of this slag again. I’m playing the nice card right now, but seeing as you are an ex-merc and a smuggler both, don’t take my kindness for granted. I’ve killed many of your lot and I’ll do it again. Don’t push me, or you’ll be just another number in my record.”
”You wouldn’t,” Acid whispered, his vocals uncertain.
”…really, now? What makes you sure I won’t dispose of you once we’re done here?
He left the rest unsaid. Acid flinched and stepped back. There were things in the verse you didn’t mess with and bounty hunters being one of those. There were reasons to why mercs ganged up on hunters; going out after one all by yourself meant a slow, painful death. He nodded, utterly defeated and looked towards the exit, making himself usefull for the hunter keeping watch.
Devcon ignored the ex-merc. He would deal with him at a latter stage. Right now, there were things far more important. Getting the frag out of Prisma’s way was the one he would concentrate upon right now. First things first.
He turned to the merchant, looking at him with optics filled with frustration and quite a bit of loath. Stalking slowly forwards, he noticed how the slagger shuddered, shaking his helm as if trying to wake up from a late night with a batch of bad energon. Devcon smirked and took the gag away.
”Now, let’s have a little talk, shall we?
The merchant swallowed, still restrained, his comm channels blocked by a handy little device fastened upon his helm. He would have to ask Acid what that was, when they were hunting Lathe’s thieves down. Devcon pulled him up, half pushing, half carrying him towards a chair and dumping him there. He cast a look at Acid, but the mech was keeping an optic on the entrance and the guards both. Good.
”I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t harm me!”
The hunter snorted. ”Says the mech who tried to kidnap me? Why, you are a nasty piece of work, aren’t you? Now, look at my cannon - yes, it’s pointing at you. It will burn a hole through your chassis… Slowly, if I want to. Now, why would you kidnap me?”
The merchant licked his lips, terrified, staring at his helm with round optics. ”It’s the r-rules of the Black Market. You’ve been throwing creds around, you got a pass, yet no mech knows you. It was decided you needed a lesson. I-I’m just the one who got you close enough.”
”I’m being monitored?”
”We saw you up there, in the tunnels… And w-we knew about you the moment you started to throw you weight around with Turner.”
Of course. Devcon snorted and gave the dark door a glance. He nodded towards the building and the shadowed entrance. ”What’s over there?”
”My o-office.”
”And what else? I’m not stupid, mech, so don’t try to fool me. What’s waiting in there? Slavers, mercs or something worse?”
The mech clamped his mouth shut and looked away. Devcon sighed and raised his hand to hit him when-
…a thousand little glossas attacked him at once. Devcon gasped and turned to fight Acid off, but the mech just pulled him away from the annoyingly stubborn merchant. He was just about to slam his fist into the well formed frame with Acid shook his helm, holding a finger in front of his mouth. Devcon glared at him, shivering already, wondering what the frag the mech was up to now. Acid moved slowly, taking Devcon with him, pulling him away from the door.
::What the fr-::
::No! Don’t... Just be quiet! They are almost here!::
Who, Devcon wanted to ask, but it was hard to keep his moans at bay. The merchant’s optics were round, desperately looking around for them. No matter how good, no, bad, the camouflage felt, the huner suddenly realised that it was indeed the best weapon he’d seen in a mech. They backed slowly away from the chair and the daise, the ex-merc leading them closer to the open door leading into the dark building. Devcon arched, biting back a loud moan and Acid noticed it, frowning, begging for him to keep his silence.
What was so important? What-
”They are gone? They were just here!”
”Yes, but something… the signal is jammed! I can’t find either of them!”
”That useless merchant, where is he?”
”In… in the tent? He just hailed me!”
”Move it, he’s alone with Acid!”
Those… were vocals he knew. He swayed and had to cling to Acid, his frame shaking, his engines revving. He shook his helm at this, loking stricken - they would hear, wouldn’t they? He couldn’t keep his engines quiet and his frame felt as if it would overload again. Acid shook his helm.
”They won’t hear,” he whispered softly. ”Just move slowly away from the centre…”
Devcon did what he was told, couldn’t really process beyond the fact that Acid was hiding him from Prisma and the hacker. He moved quietly, softly, the darkness that spilled from that open door coming closer. He was on his way to protest when Prisma and Caliper entered the tent.
They weren’t alone.
”What…? Hey, somebot help Root up!”
Prisma hovered in the middle of the room, ordering the mechs around. Devcon stared at her and at the various mercs hurrying forward to help their comrades. As they helped the merchant up, the smuggler beckonned him forward.
”Report,” she snapped.
”They... They just went missing! As soon as your pet realised I sent for you, he grabbed the other and they went missing!”
”Slaggit! How long ago was that?”
”Just a few klikks!”
”Caliper, search this place. Have a few of the others sent to the Lazy Tide, just in case. Also, contact Lathe and tell him that the charade is over. Acid, the little malfunctioning drone, somehow got his processor back. As soon as the hunter is down, I’ll pick him apart to figure out how he managed it. Well? What are you waiting for? Sound the alarm!”
Devcon suddenly felt the need to empty his tank. This he hadn’t expected. Caliper moved closer and closer, his little pad and his big, bright optics scanning the whole room. They would be found, he was sure of it, and he wouldn’t be able to take to wings and Acid…
”Deep Edge says nobot has used the elevator!”
”There has been no reading upon their spark signals!” another shouted from outside.
”No one in the tunnels!”
Prisma growled, furious. She kept giving orders around and soon just a handfull of mechs were in the tent. The slaves had been taken out and Caliper was snarling under his breath, trying hard to hack their location. Whatever was going on, Devcon decided, it would end bad. He was clinging to Acid, pushing his heated, shaking frame against the bigger mech. The ex-merc was stroking his back, murmuring small pleads for him keeping quiet or else they would be found. Devcon’s processor was muddled with lust, fierce and hard. It was hard to keep the overload out of his systems, to keep it back, so hard…
”What do we do now?”
A new mech had entered the scene of crime and Devcon managed to give him a look. It was a inmensly handsome fellow; strong of built, paintjob white and light green. A grounder, by the look of his peds and armour, yet so very pretty. Not his type, at all. Prisma and Caliper moved to him, filling him in.
”Both are gone?” The dismay was clear in the handsome mech’s face.
”It’s something they do, when together,” Caliper explained, rubbing his helm. ”I have no idea how it’s possible! I had access to the hunter earlier, but every channel and link is down. Acid normally can’t disappear for me like this.”
”How did this happen? It was such a good set up! The hunter was practically eating from our hands!”
”Acid happened,” Prisma snarled. ”That ex-merc has been fighting against the programming for quite a while now. Lathe, I need you to contact every port from here to CSSB-16 and make sure the guilds keep sentries along the routes.”
”The hunter is a fly-model, he’ll get out and leave Acid behind”, Caliper said, his earlier sparkling mannerism all but gone. ”Logically, Devcon will try to track you down, Prisma, to get his bleedin’ his answers. If he goes near you-”
”He does, and he’ll be left in pieces,” Prisma said, her vocals devoid of emotions. ”Cyclonus made it clear; Devcon can not be allowed leave Itx. We will make sure to keep our part of the bargain.”
Lathe refreshed his optics, shaking his helm. ”Acid knows his way around this place now. He’ll be able to take Devcon with him, due to that camouflage of his. We need to make sure they don’t get out of the Black market, for starters. If they go near you and manage to corner you, Prisma, what will you do?”
The femme smiled sweetly.
”Then he’ll know why I’m known as ”the Engineer,” and he’ll regret he ever set out to hunt Cyclonus.
~
They were alone and still Acid wouldn’t let the camouflage down.
At some point, Devcon had put his arms around the bigger mech, and was now hiding his face against the strong neck. Gasping every now and then, arching against Acid, he tried to push the current of bliss away, tried so hard to process. His processor, sadly, had taken a vacation, and his base coding was too occupied suggesting things better left undone.
Every sensor in his frame howled in pleasure, and if he didn’t crash now, he would surely end up in stasis. His thighs - his wings, oh sweet Primus, they were shivering under the onslaught. He couldn’t even find the strength to lift his helm, and he fought valiantly to keep the steadily rising wave of ecstasy off. If he just could process, but it was hard, too damn hard to fight against what wrecked his very core.
The only thing that held his glitch back, was the memory of the current happenings. Of Prisma and her crew. Of Lathe. He’d seen them. He’d heard them. It wasn’t a feverish nightmare, it was real.
Prisma, you slagger… Fooled me twice, did you? Here I’ve been hunting you and you’ve been under my nose, leading me in a wild goose hunt. Frag you, frag you trice over!
Acid shifted his stance and lifted his helm from Devcon’s own, looking around. The hunter stirred and unshuttered his optics, heat rolling off his frame. They were still a few steps away from the dark entrance of the very building they were leaning against. The tent was seemingly empty, but Devcon knew that it wouldn’t have been left unmonitored. Caliper had been angry, working his aft to pieces to track them down, but he’d been forced to give up. Lathe, the pretty mech, had offered Prisma his arm and they’d left a few mega-cycles ago.
The hunter swallowed hard, his systems overworked, his vents whining still. How come they hadn’t heard him? He was basically shouting, but still no mech wouldn’t notice them. He imagined it had to do with Acid’s ability to fade away and possibly, the combination the mechs earlier had mentioned.
He still felt every little glossa licking him and if he didn’t concentrate on the steady pulse of Acid’s spark, he would have lost it and howled his throat raw.
The whole mess had exploded and his prey - Prisma - had gotten away. He would have growled if he’d had the energy for it, but as it stood, he barely could lift an arm to push away from Acid. Would Acid turn out to be a traitor too? It was a foolish thing to let his guard down, but as it was, Acid had proved himsel worthy.
He stirred, then looked up, drawing the green gaze to him. No words needed for the simple truth of it; Acid had saved him when he, at any moment, could have given him up to his quarry. They were stuck on this together and needed to cooperate to get the frag out of the lower sections. He shuddered, uncounciously pressing into the ex-merc, needing-
”Can’t, I… can’t. Not when you are like this,” Acid whispered, his hands still on Devcon’s shoulders, kneading softly. The mech looked worried, probably wondering wether the hunter would dispose of him, now that he’d done this a third time. He licked his dry lips, worry etched in his face. Devcon nodded, swallowing hard and fought the impulse to lean up and taste those lips.
An eternity passed by.
”Acid,” Devcon whispered hoarsely, knees buckling, legs almost giving out. ”I can’t. You need to stop it or I’ll…”
The ex-merc shot a glance at the door and shook his helm, but Devcon was diciplined enough to know when he needed to sit down. He growled and pushed, taking the matter into his own hands. Once Acid understood he meant business, the mech sighed and pulled his knife, just in case. He grabbed Devcon's hand, dragging him along, invisible still. Devcon barely registrated it, however, and stumbled after him into the dark opening.