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wyntir_knightSo a while back a bunch of people on Tumblr got to talking about the idea of a series of festivals and challenges that end in an orgy (Pretty sure ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladydragon76 was involved in that). The talk got the gears moving in my head and I was inspired. And, of course, being me it'll turn out dark and terrible and awful and mean. Oh well. While all the other Autobots are renewing their mutual bonds by screwing like horny bonobos, poor Smokescreen is pretty much shut out of the fun and ends up in Medical after he's attacked for some perceived crime or another.
I should be working on Polyhex, and instead I'm busy making Smokescreen suffer. Yeah, sounds like par for the course. So a little Smokescreen, a little Creeperscreen, a little bit of everything for everyone (save for sticky because I still can't write that style. Maybe one day).
I'm going to put a snippit right here because I can.
Smokescreen moved around the common room, smiling and chatting with the various Autobots. High grade flowed, music played, and mechs were quickly pairing off into pairs and threesomes - and in one case a ten-some as the Aerials and the Protectobots slipped away in a group, probably heading to the Aerie. It was turning into exactly what the Festival of Primus was supposed to be. Mechs relaxing and forgetting about the war for a night - even Optimus had been drinking the engex and was now speaking rather intimately with Ironhide in the corner.
“Hey there, Smokes,” Jazz purred, slipping a companionable arm around the Datsun’s waist and pulling him close. “Got yer optics on anyone t’night, babe?”
“Still circling the room, Sweetspark, seeing who’s available and willing,” Smokescreen replied, leaning into the saboteur’s side. “Any chance you and ‘Raj are into a threesome for old-times sake?” he added with a leer.
“Funny, I don’t recall any of those old-time threesomes to reminisce over,” Mirage said in an icy whisper, suddenly appearing at Smokescreen’s side.
“Not too late to start making those memories, right?” the psychologist purred as he slipped out of Jazz’s grasp and draped his arms over the noblemech’s shoulders and leaned in seductively.
Mirage pulled back with a sneer and a look of complete disgust. “Neither of us are that desperate, thank you.”
Jazz chuckled and moved to kiss Smokescreen’s cheek before slipping in behind Mirage and wrapping his arms around the Noblemech’s waist, hugging him and effectively pinning him in place.
“I’ll work on Raj, Smokes,” he purred, nuzzling the spy’s crest. “If you haven’t paired up by the end of the night, we’ll swing on by your quarters.”
“We most certainly will not!” Mirage protested, optics darkening slightly at the teasing.
Smokescreen chuckled and took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, Mirage. This celebration’s about fun, not being a third wheel. Talk to you later, Jazz.”
With a smile and a jaunty salute to pair, Smokescreen turned and headed back out into the room, though Jazz did notice that the psychologist was making a circle around the edge of the crowd, slowly making his way toward the door as he spoke and flirted with his fellow Autobots.
“You know we were teasing, right?” Jazz murmured into Mirage’s audial as he snuggled against the spy.
“And you know how I feel about that particular mech,” Mirage replied coolly before shaking his head. “Look, this is a celebration. I would prefer that it remain one. So, can we move on? Please?”
Jazz smiled and moved to face his lover. “Anything ya want, babe,” he said gently, but it was clear that the conversation would be taken up again at some point after the Festival. This bad blood had to end eventually, and Jazz would have preferred that it be sooner rather than later.
On the other side of the room, Smokescreen slid in companionably next to Bluestreak, brushing his doors against the younger mech’s in an old Praxian greeting.
“How’s it hangin’, kiddo?” he asked and was met with a brilliant smile.
“This is great!” Bluestreak said, practically vibrating with excitement. “With the war on, I didn’t think that we’d ever have a Festival of Primus again! I mean, this isn’t the same as it was back home, but it’s still really great! Hey, do you think we’re going to have fireworks later on tonight?”
“I dunno, Blue. You hooking up with the Twins later?” Smokescreen asked, suggestively, smiling as the young mech’s optics darkened into an indigo blush.
“I, uhm, I meant more if Jack was gonna, uhm, not that I’m not going to … it’s just that I was more wondering-”
Smokescreen brushed Bluestreak’s doors again, silencing the stammered floor of embarrassed words.
“Blue, I’m teasing. And hooking up with the Twins is nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially not during the Festival. I imagine that there’ll be even more proverbial fireworks tonight. And that’s on top of the ones Wheeljack and Perceptor have planned for outside,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, I guess you’d know how good they can be,” Bluestreak replied casually as he scanned the room for the Lamborghinis.
“I’m sorry?” Smokescreen asked, genuinely confused.
“Well, I mean, I heard that you and Sides-”
“Oh, yeah, that,” Smokescreen said, cutting Bluestreak off. “Yeah, that was a one time thing and probably a mistake given that there was high grade and poor choices involved. But live and learn,” he added with a shrug.
ladydragon76 was involved in that). The talk got the gears moving in my head and I was inspired. And, of course, being me it'll turn out dark and terrible and awful and mean. Oh well. While all the other Autobots are renewing their mutual bonds by screwing like horny bonobos, poor Smokescreen is pretty much shut out of the fun and ends up in Medical after he's attacked for some perceived crime or another.I should be working on Polyhex, and instead I'm busy making Smokescreen suffer. Yeah, sounds like par for the course. So a little Smokescreen, a little Creeperscreen, a little bit of everything for everyone (save for sticky because I still can't write that style. Maybe one day).
I'm going to put a snippit right here because I can.
Smokescreen moved around the common room, smiling and chatting with the various Autobots. High grade flowed, music played, and mechs were quickly pairing off into pairs and threesomes - and in one case a ten-some as the Aerials and the Protectobots slipped away in a group, probably heading to the Aerie. It was turning into exactly what the Festival of Primus was supposed to be. Mechs relaxing and forgetting about the war for a night - even Optimus had been drinking the engex and was now speaking rather intimately with Ironhide in the corner.
“Hey there, Smokes,” Jazz purred, slipping a companionable arm around the Datsun’s waist and pulling him close. “Got yer optics on anyone t’night, babe?”
“Still circling the room, Sweetspark, seeing who’s available and willing,” Smokescreen replied, leaning into the saboteur’s side. “Any chance you and ‘Raj are into a threesome for old-times sake?” he added with a leer.
“Funny, I don’t recall any of those old-time threesomes to reminisce over,” Mirage said in an icy whisper, suddenly appearing at Smokescreen’s side.
“Not too late to start making those memories, right?” the psychologist purred as he slipped out of Jazz’s grasp and draped his arms over the noblemech’s shoulders and leaned in seductively.
Mirage pulled back with a sneer and a look of complete disgust. “Neither of us are that desperate, thank you.”
Jazz chuckled and moved to kiss Smokescreen’s cheek before slipping in behind Mirage and wrapping his arms around the Noblemech’s waist, hugging him and effectively pinning him in place.
“I’ll work on Raj, Smokes,” he purred, nuzzling the spy’s crest. “If you haven’t paired up by the end of the night, we’ll swing on by your quarters.”
“We most certainly will not!” Mirage protested, optics darkening slightly at the teasing.
Smokescreen chuckled and took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, Mirage. This celebration’s about fun, not being a third wheel. Talk to you later, Jazz.”
With a smile and a jaunty salute to pair, Smokescreen turned and headed back out into the room, though Jazz did notice that the psychologist was making a circle around the edge of the crowd, slowly making his way toward the door as he spoke and flirted with his fellow Autobots.
“You know we were teasing, right?” Jazz murmured into Mirage’s audial as he snuggled against the spy.
“And you know how I feel about that particular mech,” Mirage replied coolly before shaking his head. “Look, this is a celebration. I would prefer that it remain one. So, can we move on? Please?”
Jazz smiled and moved to face his lover. “Anything ya want, babe,” he said gently, but it was clear that the conversation would be taken up again at some point after the Festival. This bad blood had to end eventually, and Jazz would have preferred that it be sooner rather than later.
On the other side of the room, Smokescreen slid in companionably next to Bluestreak, brushing his doors against the younger mech’s in an old Praxian greeting.
“How’s it hangin’, kiddo?” he asked and was met with a brilliant smile.
“This is great!” Bluestreak said, practically vibrating with excitement. “With the war on, I didn’t think that we’d ever have a Festival of Primus again! I mean, this isn’t the same as it was back home, but it’s still really great! Hey, do you think we’re going to have fireworks later on tonight?”
“I dunno, Blue. You hooking up with the Twins later?” Smokescreen asked, suggestively, smiling as the young mech’s optics darkened into an indigo blush.
“I, uhm, I meant more if Jack was gonna, uhm, not that I’m not going to … it’s just that I was more wondering-”
Smokescreen brushed Bluestreak’s doors again, silencing the stammered floor of embarrassed words.
“Blue, I’m teasing. And hooking up with the Twins is nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially not during the Festival. I imagine that there’ll be even more proverbial fireworks tonight. And that’s on top of the ones Wheeljack and Perceptor have planned for outside,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, I guess you’d know how good they can be,” Bluestreak replied casually as he scanned the room for the Lamborghinis.
“I’m sorry?” Smokescreen asked, genuinely confused.
“Well, I mean, I heard that you and Sides-”
“Oh, yeah, that,” Smokescreen said, cutting Bluestreak off. “Yeah, that was a one time thing and probably a mistake given that there was high grade and poor choices involved. But live and learn,” he added with a shrug.