Motormaster's Awesome Day, Chapter 7
Title: Motormaster's Awesome Day
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei
Rating: R
Warnings: Vortex. Violence. Dubious consent. UST.
Summary: From the Awesome Day Meme. Motormaster has 24 hours in his awesome day, in which awesome things can happen to him.
This Chapter: It sucks to be in charge when your subordinates won't listen to you.
He was halfway back to the Nemesis, flying high over the Pacific Ocean, when Motormaster realized that Prime had neglected to confiscate the remaining energon. Or, perhaps he had assumed that to be included in Motormaster's demands for leaving the humans unscathed. Either way, Motormaster landed with a degree of satisfaction, letting Rumble and Frenzy carry the energon out of his trailer and handing it off to Mixmaster before heading back to the medbay.
Whereupon, the first thing he saw was a familiar set of rotors---Vortex, very much no longer in the brig, was leaning casually against an exam table flirting with Scavenger.
Motormaster walked right up to him and snarled, causing Scavenger to eep and scramble away. Vortex turned to him and was met with a punch to the faceplates, and responded to that with a raised optic ridge and an interested look. "You scared Scavenger away," he said, petulent. "Hope you're planning to replace him."
"How'd you get out of the brig?!" Motormaster demanded. He was in charge, frag it, and when he put someone into the brig, they were supposed to stay there until he let them out or his relief did.
Vortex grinned. "My little secret," he taunted.
Motormaster snarled. "Well, you're going back." He grabbed Vortex by the shoulder and propelled him out the medbay door, against the closed turbolift doors and, when they opened, against the far wall of the lift.
"Sure you want to do that? I mean, we could do something else instead," Vortex purred, entirely nonplussed by two collisions, and Motormaster's circuitry flared back into blazing arousal that was almost as painful, in its way, as the still-crushed trailer. He snarled, deadly furious.
"If you," he punctuated it with a blow to the back of Vortex's helm with his free hand, "don't leave the rest of my team alone," another blow, "you," BANG! "don't," BANG! "get," BANG! "Me." he threw Vortex against the closed turbolift door, slapped a hand over the button, and grabbed Vortex by the rotor assembly. In hindsight, he ought to have known better.
Vortex let out a delighted groan. "Of, frag, yeah!"
Slag. Just in case there was any circuitry still dormant in Motormaster's body, Vortex's reaction took care of it. Motormaster shuddered, going rigid and forgetting to let go of Vortex. Then Vortex's fingers were stroking across his hips and his grip on what the problem was wavered. His own fingers stroked across the smooth, detailed metal of the rotary hub and Vortex purred. "Ohh, that's better."
There was something about his tone.
Ohhhh. Hi, Breakdown.
Motormaster pulled his rifle out of subspace, thumbed it to "not quite kill" and fired a shot into Vortex's midsection. "No."
Vortex screamed, and for the life of him Motormaster couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain. Knowing Vortex, probably both. Which wasn't what Motormaster wanted, but at this point, he'd settle for what worked.
Acrid smoke filled the lift. Vortex was staring back at him, all surprise and dim comprehension and more surprise. "Slag, you're serious."
"When am I not?"
Silence for a moment, and then Vortex ventured, "So . . . medbay?"
Motormaster stared at the smoldering hole in Vortex's armor, realizing his mistake. Some mornings it didn't pay to come online. "Yeah, medbay." He pushed the turbolift button too hard, but it was a sullen jab, not an enraged one, and nothing broke.
The trip up to the medbay was a silent one, and Scavenger's wide-opticked surprise was taken care of with only a look; Vortex, however, would doubtless go back to flirting with Scavenger and get laid and walk out free if Motormaster didn't stay and keep an optic on things.
So he did. Vortex, blast him, flirted heatedly with Scavenger the whole time, and the shy Constructicon got flustered and distracted, which was in turn a distraction to Motormaster, who couldn't do anything about it because Scavenger was notoriously slow to be seduced, and skipping the seduction resulted in five angry Constructicons doing significant damage to the offender and being entirely disinclined to repair it afterwards.
He managed to refrain from growling mostly because vocalizing produced vibrations. Finally, finally, Scavenger was done with Vortex and called out, "Okay, your turn!"
"Huh?" It took Motormaster a second to figure out what Scavenger was talking about. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. That's significant structural damage and has to be really painful."
"It isn't." Scavenger looked unconvinced, and Motormaster belatedly remembered the painkiller patch, but slag if he was admitting to that.
"If it isn't, there's probably sensor damage---" Scavenger prodded at a crumpled piece of plating and agony blossomed against it; Motormaster brought up his arm and had knocked Scavenger down to the floor before he realized what he was doing.
Scavenger sat there, staring up at him with big optics, and for a moment Motormaster half expected him to cry for his brothers. But he didn't, and after a moment Motormaster said, "Don't DO that. People have reflexes, you'll get your aft slagged by accident." It sounded disturbingly like an apology to his audials, and he added a glare for good measure.
Scavenger clambered to his pedes, brightening, which told Motormaster he probably had taken it as an apology, and tugged at Motormaster's forearm. "Come to a berth, let me fix it."
Turning, and fighting back an urge to squirm, Motormaster met Vortex' amused gaze from where he was lounging against the main operating table, a smirk evident in every line of his posture. "Vortex goes to the brig first," he said firmly. Ignoring Scavenger's cautious objections, he unsubspaced his rifle. "Move."
"Sure thing, Officer," Vortex teased, doing things to Motormaster's circuitry all over again, and cheerfully headed out the door.
Growling, Motormaster followed.
Author: Kyra Neko-Rei
Rating: R
Warnings: Vortex. Violence. Dubious consent. UST.
Summary: From the Awesome Day Meme. Motormaster has 24 hours in his awesome day, in which awesome things can happen to him.
This Chapter: It sucks to be in charge when your subordinates won't listen to you.
He was halfway back to the Nemesis, flying high over the Pacific Ocean, when Motormaster realized that Prime had neglected to confiscate the remaining energon. Or, perhaps he had assumed that to be included in Motormaster's demands for leaving the humans unscathed. Either way, Motormaster landed with a degree of satisfaction, letting Rumble and Frenzy carry the energon out of his trailer and handing it off to Mixmaster before heading back to the medbay.
Whereupon, the first thing he saw was a familiar set of rotors---Vortex, very much no longer in the brig, was leaning casually against an exam table flirting with Scavenger.
Motormaster walked right up to him and snarled, causing Scavenger to eep and scramble away. Vortex turned to him and was met with a punch to the faceplates, and responded to that with a raised optic ridge and an interested look. "You scared Scavenger away," he said, petulent. "Hope you're planning to replace him."
"How'd you get out of the brig?!" Motormaster demanded. He was in charge, frag it, and when he put someone into the brig, they were supposed to stay there until he let them out or his relief did.
Vortex grinned. "My little secret," he taunted.
Motormaster snarled. "Well, you're going back." He grabbed Vortex by the shoulder and propelled him out the medbay door, against the closed turbolift doors and, when they opened, against the far wall of the lift.
"Sure you want to do that? I mean, we could do something else instead," Vortex purred, entirely nonplussed by two collisions, and Motormaster's circuitry flared back into blazing arousal that was almost as painful, in its way, as the still-crushed trailer. He snarled, deadly furious.
"If you," he punctuated it with a blow to the back of Vortex's helm with his free hand, "don't leave the rest of my team alone," another blow, "you," BANG! "don't," BANG! "get," BANG! "Me." he threw Vortex against the closed turbolift door, slapped a hand over the button, and grabbed Vortex by the rotor assembly. In hindsight, he ought to have known better.
Vortex let out a delighted groan. "Of, frag, yeah!"
Slag. Just in case there was any circuitry still dormant in Motormaster's body, Vortex's reaction took care of it. Motormaster shuddered, going rigid and forgetting to let go of Vortex. Then Vortex's fingers were stroking across his hips and his grip on what the problem was wavered. His own fingers stroked across the smooth, detailed metal of the rotary hub and Vortex purred. "Ohh, that's better."
There was something about his tone.
Ohhhh. Hi, Breakdown.
Motormaster pulled his rifle out of subspace, thumbed it to "not quite kill" and fired a shot into Vortex's midsection. "No."
Vortex screamed, and for the life of him Motormaster couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain. Knowing Vortex, probably both. Which wasn't what Motormaster wanted, but at this point, he'd settle for what worked.
Acrid smoke filled the lift. Vortex was staring back at him, all surprise and dim comprehension and more surprise. "Slag, you're serious."
"When am I not?"
Silence for a moment, and then Vortex ventured, "So . . . medbay?"
Motormaster stared at the smoldering hole in Vortex's armor, realizing his mistake. Some mornings it didn't pay to come online. "Yeah, medbay." He pushed the turbolift button too hard, but it was a sullen jab, not an enraged one, and nothing broke.
The trip up to the medbay was a silent one, and Scavenger's wide-opticked surprise was taken care of with only a look; Vortex, however, would doubtless go back to flirting with Scavenger and get laid and walk out free if Motormaster didn't stay and keep an optic on things.
So he did. Vortex, blast him, flirted heatedly with Scavenger the whole time, and the shy Constructicon got flustered and distracted, which was in turn a distraction to Motormaster, who couldn't do anything about it because Scavenger was notoriously slow to be seduced, and skipping the seduction resulted in five angry Constructicons doing significant damage to the offender and being entirely disinclined to repair it afterwards.
He managed to refrain from growling mostly because vocalizing produced vibrations. Finally, finally, Scavenger was done with Vortex and called out, "Okay, your turn!"
"Huh?" It took Motormaster a second to figure out what Scavenger was talking about. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. That's significant structural damage and has to be really painful."
"It isn't." Scavenger looked unconvinced, and Motormaster belatedly remembered the painkiller patch, but slag if he was admitting to that.
"If it isn't, there's probably sensor damage---" Scavenger prodded at a crumpled piece of plating and agony blossomed against it; Motormaster brought up his arm and had knocked Scavenger down to the floor before he realized what he was doing.
Scavenger sat there, staring up at him with big optics, and for a moment Motormaster half expected him to cry for his brothers. But he didn't, and after a moment Motormaster said, "Don't DO that. People have reflexes, you'll get your aft slagged by accident." It sounded disturbingly like an apology to his audials, and he added a glare for good measure.
Scavenger clambered to his pedes, brightening, which told Motormaster he probably had taken it as an apology, and tugged at Motormaster's forearm. "Come to a berth, let me fix it."
Turning, and fighting back an urge to squirm, Motormaster met Vortex' amused gaze from where he was lounging against the main operating table, a smirk evident in every line of his posture. "Vortex goes to the brig first," he said firmly. Ignoring Scavenger's cautious objections, he unsubspaced his rifle. "Move."
"Sure thing, Officer," Vortex teased, doing things to Motormaster's circuitry all over again, and cheerfully headed out the door.
Growling, Motormaster followed.