Motormaster's Awesome Day, Chapter 6
Title: Motormaster's Awesome Day.
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei.
Rating: R
Warnings: Mentions of sex. Frustration. Anachronisms galore.
Summary: From the Awesome Day Meme. Motormaster has 24 hours in his awesome day, in which awesome things can happen to him.
This Chapter: Motormaster heads out on a solo mission, and gets more than he bargained for.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine.
Megatron gave him a mission.
It was not, unfortunately, a mission that involved pounding out his frustrations on Autobots. Nor was it one that was conducive to skiving off and interfacing with Silverbolt. No, Octane had gotten himself damaged and so Motormaster was supposed to collect a trailerload of energon and bring it back to base.
Motormaster said "Yes sir," like the professional warrior he tried to be and exited the bridge, pounding dents into wall panels as he went. One couldn't self-stimulate in alt mode, which meant it would be awhile before the excess charge could be taken care of. Nothing for it; he rode the tower up, took off, and folded down into his truck form on the coast.
Luck was not on his side, as the first thing he encountered was a traffic jam caused by a human car accident---half an hour of creeping eventually took him past two crushed cars and a cluster of flashing lights; none of these emergency personnel bothered him, too busy dealing with their accident, so he took off the instant he had room, shooting past the speed limit. Somebody honked at him and flipped him off; he was behind schedule and so that human avoided the messy death he'd just tried for, and when Motormaster met Octane, Octane greeted him with a jab at his lack of punctuality and Motormaster knocked him aft over landing gear with one solid blow, which took the possibility of interfacing with him out of the equation, too.
Energon loaded, he let off a little steam by letting the load work on it, speeding up quickly, swerving between lanes and taking curves too fast and otherwise enforcing his will on the laws of physics through sheer physical might. It was a little thing, but it was mildly satisfying, and he was actually feeling a little better when he realized he had Optimus Prime trailing him.
//Motormaster, I have no doubt that the energon you're carrying is stolen. Pull over.//
Motormaster almost hit the brakes in sheer incredulous disbelief that the Prime thought that would actually work. Recovering, he sent a bark of laughter over the comm and told the Autobot leader to go and interface with a dead whale. The sight of Optimus slowing momentarily, as though taken aback by the suggestion, filled him with triumphant glee, and then the Autobot was pulling closer, drawing up alongside him.
Motormaster accelerated away, only to have the move matched by the Autobot, and Motormaster realized that while he himself was under load, the Prime was not. This rankled, and he swerved, sending his trailer bashing into the Prime's cab, knocking him slightly to the side. A human car on the far side of Prime swerved to avoid being hit and drove right off the road, bouncing on its suspension before coming to a stop; Motormaster felt a moment's disappointment that it hadn't been a more entertaining accident, and then Optimus slammed into his side, hard, knocking him perilously close to the median ditch. Motormaster surged ahead, but was matched easily.
Well. He was King of the Road in more ways than one. If he couldn't match Prime in speed with a weight handicap, and the mech refused to be knocked off the road, then he would outthink him. A cloverleaf interchange was up ahead, and just before that, a connection point between the northbound and southbound lanes, for speed traps and illegal U-turns. Motormaster slammed on the brakes.
Prime did the same, half a second behind him---and, having no load and thus less forward momentum, stopped first while Motormaster skidded past the U-turn. Motormaster immediately shifted back into gear and surged ahead, making for the cloverleaf.
It bought him time, while Optimus hurried to get back up to speed and catch up with him, and Motormaster preened at his own cleverness with the successful maneuver. It was like something the Seekers often came up with in the air. There was, of course, the minor detail that he now had no clue where he was going, but that was never a problem. If he didn't come to a road he recognized, he could always bully some local human into telling him how to get back to the freeway, or just head west until he met the coast.
Optimus came into view behind him after he crested a hill; a cluster of buildings told him he had entered a town and a sign told him the speed limit had dropped to thirty. An immediate flare of blue and red lights told him his policy of not paying attention to such things was not appreciated; he ignored that too.
The overhanging sign that impacted against the top edge of his trailer was harder to ignore, as that area happened to be a bit sensitive and he was still running high from his soundly irritating morning; he growled and sped up some more as he headed for the underpass ahead.
CRUNCH!
The impact was hard, bright, painful, and if he had been any more keyed up he could have overloaded on the spot; as it was, he froze up as his whole sensor net lit up in blazing agony, leaving him to come back to his senses a moment later to realize that his trailer's roof had been torn clean off halfway down its length, crumpling like paper. Moreover, the front corners of it were bent and mangled right down to the trailer bed, and even that was solidly wrenched---as was the attachment point between trailer and cab.
Oh, and Optimus Prime was laughing his aft off.
Motormaster growled, pointedly aware that he couldn't transform with a trailerful---well, three-quarters full now, with the rest of it puddled on the ground---of energon cubes, and shifted into reverse to back out.
Nothing happened, aside from tires turning in place on asphalt and Motormaster nearly passing out from new agony. He was well and truly stuck, with his options being limited to radioing for help (and hearing about it forever from everybody up to and including his own team) or accepting it from Optimus Prime. He wasn't sure which was worse, but if the Prime demanded he ask for it then Motormaster was going to frag him with his own exhaust pipes, minor details like the question of how at the moment be damned.
For the moment, however, Optimus was still laughing. Motormaster grated, "Shut. Up."
He didn't. Moreover, Motormaster became aware that there was a sizeable crowd of humans gathered around, and they were all laughing, too. Which gave Motormaster an idea.
"You didn't see the sign?" Optimus managed to choke out, sounding like Onslaught did the time Wildrider-Vortex-Skywarp-or-Rumble-and-Frenzy had stuffed flour into his air vents.
"What sign?" The too-low overhanging one that he'd banged into? He perused his memory banks and came up blank; he'd been looking at Prime in his rearview mirrors at the time. What did humans put on signs that were up across roads? Directions and information on freeway overpasses, and sometimes graffiti, and on one memorable occasion, inexplicably, "SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE." Never mind. //Prime,// he said over the comm in a tone that could have passed for sweet if it weren't so menacing, //If you get me out from under this bridge and then back off and let me leave, I will pretend I am not hearing a couple hundred humans making fun of me.//
Optimus got the subtle threat and sobered, moving toward Motormaster and transforming to grip his trailer. //Very well,// he said, grasped firmly, and pulled. Motormaster engaged his drive wheels again, resenting the fact that even the Prime's grasp was mildly arousing, and resenting even more the fact that the pair of them managed what Motormaster had been unable to do on his own. Then he realized that Optimus was continuing to drag him back and he set his brakes---to no effect whatsoever---and snarled, "What the frag are you doing?!"
"I'm showing you the sign," came the too-calm reply; Motormaster seethed as he was hauled back along the road, letting his brakes loosen but letting out a low growl, and then the sign was above him and in front of him---Optimus had lifted it over him instead of letting it hit his injured trailer, the slagging kind bastard---and the words were visible, bright red on yellow in giant lettering.
IF YOU HIT THIS SIGN, YOU WILL HIT THAT BRIDGE.
Humiliation met fury and flashed into blinding rage, and Motormaster activated his transformation sequence, wanting nothing more than to beat the mech's slagging amusement right out of him, but he had a trailer full of energon cubes and a significant injury, and the transformation froze and reverted about 15% in. He roared in fury, and was soundly ignored as Optimus simply held on calmly. Someday, Prime, I'll teach you to respect me.
The Autobot reached into his subspace, and Motormaster snarled, about to remind him of the bargain they'd struck regarding the group of very squishable humans, but Optimus placed his hand against the injured plating, attaching something. Motormaster tensed---and then the pain lessened noticeably, dying down to bearable levels, and Motormaster was reduced to squawking a solidly confused chirr at him when he realized the blasted Autobot, his slagging mortal enemy, had given him a painkiller patch.
Optimus just smiled, behind his mask, a crinkling of his optics that was at once pleased and wistful. "You may go," he said, offering no explanation.
Suddenly filled with emotions Motormaster had no clue how to name, let alone deal with, he settled for ignoring the mech as he drove away.
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei.
Rating: R
Warnings: Mentions of sex. Frustration. Anachronisms galore.
Summary: From the Awesome Day Meme. Motormaster has 24 hours in his awesome day, in which awesome things can happen to him.
This Chapter: Motormaster heads out on a solo mission, and gets more than he bargained for.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine.
Megatron gave him a mission.
It was not, unfortunately, a mission that involved pounding out his frustrations on Autobots. Nor was it one that was conducive to skiving off and interfacing with Silverbolt. No, Octane had gotten himself damaged and so Motormaster was supposed to collect a trailerload of energon and bring it back to base.
Motormaster said "Yes sir," like the professional warrior he tried to be and exited the bridge, pounding dents into wall panels as he went. One couldn't self-stimulate in alt mode, which meant it would be awhile before the excess charge could be taken care of. Nothing for it; he rode the tower up, took off, and folded down into his truck form on the coast.
Luck was not on his side, as the first thing he encountered was a traffic jam caused by a human car accident---half an hour of creeping eventually took him past two crushed cars and a cluster of flashing lights; none of these emergency personnel bothered him, too busy dealing with their accident, so he took off the instant he had room, shooting past the speed limit. Somebody honked at him and flipped him off; he was behind schedule and so that human avoided the messy death he'd just tried for, and when Motormaster met Octane, Octane greeted him with a jab at his lack of punctuality and Motormaster knocked him aft over landing gear with one solid blow, which took the possibility of interfacing with him out of the equation, too.
Energon loaded, he let off a little steam by letting the load work on it, speeding up quickly, swerving between lanes and taking curves too fast and otherwise enforcing his will on the laws of physics through sheer physical might. It was a little thing, but it was mildly satisfying, and he was actually feeling a little better when he realized he had Optimus Prime trailing him.
//Motormaster, I have no doubt that the energon you're carrying is stolen. Pull over.//
Motormaster almost hit the brakes in sheer incredulous disbelief that the Prime thought that would actually work. Recovering, he sent a bark of laughter over the comm and told the Autobot leader to go and interface with a dead whale. The sight of Optimus slowing momentarily, as though taken aback by the suggestion, filled him with triumphant glee, and then the Autobot was pulling closer, drawing up alongside him.
Motormaster accelerated away, only to have the move matched by the Autobot, and Motormaster realized that while he himself was under load, the Prime was not. This rankled, and he swerved, sending his trailer bashing into the Prime's cab, knocking him slightly to the side. A human car on the far side of Prime swerved to avoid being hit and drove right off the road, bouncing on its suspension before coming to a stop; Motormaster felt a moment's disappointment that it hadn't been a more entertaining accident, and then Optimus slammed into his side, hard, knocking him perilously close to the median ditch. Motormaster surged ahead, but was matched easily.
Well. He was King of the Road in more ways than one. If he couldn't match Prime in speed with a weight handicap, and the mech refused to be knocked off the road, then he would outthink him. A cloverleaf interchange was up ahead, and just before that, a connection point between the northbound and southbound lanes, for speed traps and illegal U-turns. Motormaster slammed on the brakes.
Prime did the same, half a second behind him---and, having no load and thus less forward momentum, stopped first while Motormaster skidded past the U-turn. Motormaster immediately shifted back into gear and surged ahead, making for the cloverleaf.
It bought him time, while Optimus hurried to get back up to speed and catch up with him, and Motormaster preened at his own cleverness with the successful maneuver. It was like something the Seekers often came up with in the air. There was, of course, the minor detail that he now had no clue where he was going, but that was never a problem. If he didn't come to a road he recognized, he could always bully some local human into telling him how to get back to the freeway, or just head west until he met the coast.
Optimus came into view behind him after he crested a hill; a cluster of buildings told him he had entered a town and a sign told him the speed limit had dropped to thirty. An immediate flare of blue and red lights told him his policy of not paying attention to such things was not appreciated; he ignored that too.
The overhanging sign that impacted against the top edge of his trailer was harder to ignore, as that area happened to be a bit sensitive and he was still running high from his soundly irritating morning; he growled and sped up some more as he headed for the underpass ahead.
CRUNCH!
The impact was hard, bright, painful, and if he had been any more keyed up he could have overloaded on the spot; as it was, he froze up as his whole sensor net lit up in blazing agony, leaving him to come back to his senses a moment later to realize that his trailer's roof had been torn clean off halfway down its length, crumpling like paper. Moreover, the front corners of it were bent and mangled right down to the trailer bed, and even that was solidly wrenched---as was the attachment point between trailer and cab.
Oh, and Optimus Prime was laughing his aft off.
Motormaster growled, pointedly aware that he couldn't transform with a trailerful---well, three-quarters full now, with the rest of it puddled on the ground---of energon cubes, and shifted into reverse to back out.
Nothing happened, aside from tires turning in place on asphalt and Motormaster nearly passing out from new agony. He was well and truly stuck, with his options being limited to radioing for help (and hearing about it forever from everybody up to and including his own team) or accepting it from Optimus Prime. He wasn't sure which was worse, but if the Prime demanded he ask for it then Motormaster was going to frag him with his own exhaust pipes, minor details like the question of how at the moment be damned.
For the moment, however, Optimus was still laughing. Motormaster grated, "Shut. Up."
He didn't. Moreover, Motormaster became aware that there was a sizeable crowd of humans gathered around, and they were all laughing, too. Which gave Motormaster an idea.
"You didn't see the sign?" Optimus managed to choke out, sounding like Onslaught did the time Wildrider-Vortex-Skywarp-or-Rumble-and-Frenzy had stuffed flour into his air vents.
"What sign?" The too-low overhanging one that he'd banged into? He perused his memory banks and came up blank; he'd been looking at Prime in his rearview mirrors at the time. What did humans put on signs that were up across roads? Directions and information on freeway overpasses, and sometimes graffiti, and on one memorable occasion, inexplicably, "SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE." Never mind. //Prime,// he said over the comm in a tone that could have passed for sweet if it weren't so menacing, //If you get me out from under this bridge and then back off and let me leave, I will pretend I am not hearing a couple hundred humans making fun of me.//
Optimus got the subtle threat and sobered, moving toward Motormaster and transforming to grip his trailer. //Very well,// he said, grasped firmly, and pulled. Motormaster engaged his drive wheels again, resenting the fact that even the Prime's grasp was mildly arousing, and resenting even more the fact that the pair of them managed what Motormaster had been unable to do on his own. Then he realized that Optimus was continuing to drag him back and he set his brakes---to no effect whatsoever---and snarled, "What the frag are you doing?!"
"I'm showing you the sign," came the too-calm reply; Motormaster seethed as he was hauled back along the road, letting his brakes loosen but letting out a low growl, and then the sign was above him and in front of him---Optimus had lifted it over him instead of letting it hit his injured trailer, the slagging kind bastard---and the words were visible, bright red on yellow in giant lettering.
IF YOU HIT THIS SIGN, YOU WILL HIT THAT BRIDGE.
Humiliation met fury and flashed into blinding rage, and Motormaster activated his transformation sequence, wanting nothing more than to beat the mech's slagging amusement right out of him, but he had a trailer full of energon cubes and a significant injury, and the transformation froze and reverted about 15% in. He roared in fury, and was soundly ignored as Optimus simply held on calmly. Someday, Prime, I'll teach you to respect me.
The Autobot reached into his subspace, and Motormaster snarled, about to remind him of the bargain they'd struck regarding the group of very squishable humans, but Optimus placed his hand against the injured plating, attaching something. Motormaster tensed---and then the pain lessened noticeably, dying down to bearable levels, and Motormaster was reduced to squawking a solidly confused chirr at him when he realized the blasted Autobot, his slagging mortal enemy, had given him a painkiller patch.
Optimus just smiled, behind his mask, a crinkling of his optics that was at once pleased and wistful. "You may go," he said, offering no explanation.
Suddenly filled with emotions Motormaster had no clue how to name, let alone deal with, he settled for ignoring the mech as he drove away.