Just a little TMI :D
Title Star-crossed: Slag Off (originally TMI)
Characters Sunstreaker, Sideswipe (implied Prowl/Sideswipe)
Summary There are just some things you don't want to know about your brother...
Author's Notes Just a quickie I threw together cause I seem to be writing so much angst. *gnaws at the angsty fic (o' doom!!!)tm* Er, I'm thinking this is very early in the relationship. And Sideswipe has just discovered something new about Prowl.
ETA: I'll be uploading this to the main ff.net soon (and transfictions, since it's back up yay :D) now that I've got a good chapter title for it. And it's a needed reminder (to myself, as much as anyone else) that beneath all the angsting Prowl and Sides are fun together.
Sideswipe strode into the room, his optics bright and step far too jaunty for his own good.
Sunstreaker growled, returning to the datapad in his hands.
Sideswipe flopped down next to his brother, flinging an arm over the golden mech'sshoulder. "Springer gone already?"
Sunstreaker leaned away from the red mech, grimacing at the strong scent of ozone. He grumbled rather than answer, the factory reject just had to rub it in, didn't he?
Sideswipe chuckled and sprawled out on his brother's berth, joints creaking with satisfaction.
Sunstreaker's grip tightened on the datapad, the metal frame bending under his strong fingers. How many painful ways could he deactivate his brother, right then? It would be a bit of a twist to reach his head, but his legs were within easy reach...
"Prowl can't even be that great of a lay. He's got that rod up his aft all the time.”
Infuriatingly enough, Sideswipe didn't react.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, no longer focused on the screen as he tried to gauge Sideswipe's mood.
Besides sated, that much was obvious.
"Seriously, Sides, that mech is so tight that even oil wouldn't loosen him up. He's boring, he's-"
“Likes handcuffs.”
Sunstreaker sputtered to a stop, shooting an alarmed glance at his brother.
Sideswipe rubbed at his wrists, grinning like a maniac.
Sunstreaker decided that he did not just see scorch marks on his brother's wrists. He resolutely turned back to his datapad.
“And he likes chains too...”
The golden warrior shuddered. “No. He doesn't.”
Sideswipe propped himself up, poking Sunstreaker in the side. "What the frag do you know about it?"
"Nothing. And I don't want to know anything. Prowl does not like handcuffs. And he doesn't like chains. And you, little fragger, are not telling me any such things. He didn't use any of those things on you. He is boring." Sunstreaker turned to glare at his brother. "And I want him to remain that way." He seized his brother's arm and pulled with all his might. "Now get your disgusting aft off my berth and go pollute your own. And no more nasty talk, or someone's going to wind up with the worst paint job since Kup."
His threat would have worked oh so much better if that slaghead brother of his wasn't laughing so hard his vocalizer fritzed.
-Fin-
Characters Sunstreaker, Sideswipe (implied Prowl/Sideswipe)
Summary There are just some things you don't want to know about your brother...
Author's Notes Just a quickie I threw together cause I seem to be writing so much angst. *gnaws at the angsty fic (o' doom!!!)tm* Er, I'm thinking this is very early in the relationship. And Sideswipe has just discovered something new about Prowl.
ETA: I'll be uploading this to the main ff.net soon (and transfictions, since it's back up yay :D) now that I've got a good chapter title for it. And it's a needed reminder (to myself, as much as anyone else) that beneath all the angsting Prowl and Sides are fun together.
Sideswipe strode into the room, his optics bright and step far too jaunty for his own good.
Sunstreaker growled, returning to the datapad in his hands.
Sideswipe flopped down next to his brother, flinging an arm over the golden mech'sshoulder. "Springer gone already?"
Sunstreaker leaned away from the red mech, grimacing at the strong scent of ozone. He grumbled rather than answer, the factory reject just had to rub it in, didn't he?
Sideswipe chuckled and sprawled out on his brother's berth, joints creaking with satisfaction.
Sunstreaker's grip tightened on the datapad, the metal frame bending under his strong fingers. How many painful ways could he deactivate his brother, right then? It would be a bit of a twist to reach his head, but his legs were within easy reach...
"Prowl can't even be that great of a lay. He's got that rod up his aft all the time.”
Infuriatingly enough, Sideswipe didn't react.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, no longer focused on the screen as he tried to gauge Sideswipe's mood.
Besides sated, that much was obvious.
"Seriously, Sides, that mech is so tight that even oil wouldn't loosen him up. He's boring, he's-"
“Likes handcuffs.”
Sunstreaker sputtered to a stop, shooting an alarmed glance at his brother.
Sideswipe rubbed at his wrists, grinning like a maniac.
Sunstreaker decided that he did not just see scorch marks on his brother's wrists. He resolutely turned back to his datapad.
“And he likes chains too...”
The golden warrior shuddered. “No. He doesn't.”
Sideswipe propped himself up, poking Sunstreaker in the side. "What the frag do you know about it?"
"Nothing. And I don't want to know anything. Prowl does not like handcuffs. And he doesn't like chains. And you, little fragger, are not telling me any such things. He didn't use any of those things on you. He is boring." Sunstreaker turned to glare at his brother. "And I want him to remain that way." He seized his brother's arm and pulled with all his might. "Now get your disgusting aft off my berth and go pollute your own. And no more nasty talk, or someone's going to wind up with the worst paint job since Kup."
His threat would have worked oh so much better if that slaghead brother of his wasn't laughing so hard his vocalizer fritzed.
-Fin-