O... Oh God ;~; Please no one hurt me. I've never done anything like this before... But, inspiration... It just kinda hit. I've never written anything -well, outside of roleplay and English assignments- much less slash. There is going to be quite a bit more to this story. I have the bare bones of a plot figured out and... Well, actually I was hoping if anyone liked it enough they sort of beta things for me - Lord knows I use commas far too liberally among other things.

This story will contain slash, mpreg (because Screamer looks oh so good with baby bumps), and dub-con. Among various other things. Ya'll've been warned. Also, reviews would be loved seeing as how this is my first time. Be gentle with me D:

Disclaimer - Unfortunately, I do not own Transformers and am not profiting from this in anyway.

The lithe Seeker writhed under the powerful, albeit slow, strokes of the 'Con between his legs. Clawed servos scrabbled mercilessly along the wings of the and back struts of his former teammate as needy pants were drawn from his pouting lips. "Hnnng-! Faster, Blitzwing!"

Red optics shuttered back online, glancing down to peer at the slender flyer. Blue lips curled upwards in a leering grin –something rare for the coldest of the three Blitz brothers. "Vhy vould I do zat vhen it'z zo much more fun to watch vou squirm?"

"Sl-Slag, you bastard. I could just leave you ri-ah!-right now."

Blitzwing's jagged jack-o-lantern mouth –his faceplates had shifted sometime amidst Scream's husky insults- tugged upwards, a wicked laugh ripping from the mentally unstable jet. "Have fun wiz zat," he cackled, blunt fingers falling to grip the jet's purple-plated waist, his hold tight and strong, preventing the leaner of the two from meeting his thrusts.

Starscream did his best to glower –no easy task when soft quips and gasps were being torn from your throat with every little movement. While normally he would've thrown the ungrateful ache-in-the-processor off his unsatisfied form in an instant, this was no normal time as Blitzwing was well aware.

It happened once every five hundred vorns or so. An intense heat crept up between the seeker's legs, transfluid leaked at even the slightest touch. An intense throbbing, a need to be ravaged and filled, obscured the purple and gray mech's thoughts – primal instinct took control.

Before the Wars, Starscream could generally take care of things by himself. Disappear for a decacycle or two, trudge off to where no-one would find him if they tried. During the War, it got harder. As Second in Command, the sleek flyer couldn't exactly go wandering off whenever he'd felt like it. And neither could he control his basic coding. It'd come as sort of a blessing in disguise when he'd been forced to live with the idiots aboard Nemesis. Of course, it hadn't seemed like it at the time… But hindsight was had convinced him otherwise.

Of course, by the time Starscream's cycle had come about on the Nemesis, he had been keeping his liege satisfied in the berth for quite some time. However, the Seeker was smart –or perhaps foolish—enough to believe his dirty little secret was best kept from the cunning and cruel Con. As such, it'd begun an inspection of the assorted cons on the ship.

Blackarachnia? While under normal circumstances Screamer was perfectly accepting of fems into his berth, this glitch in his system left him unfulfilled when he was only giving instead of receiving. Besides, the seeker was far too vain to allow that… creature to share his berth. Even if the former 'Bot was, admittedly, one of the more intelligent on the ship, no one that had been tainted by organic filth would ever have the joys of Starscream at his most carnal.

Lugnut? Not a chance. The fragger, so sickeningly loyal to that fool (and decidedly hard to kill) Megatron. Besides, the seeker was seriously beginning to doubt if the gargantuan mech had anything more than a one-track processor. The simpleton would've accidently crushed Screamer just as soon as 'face him senseless. Besides, with that loyalty… Well, Starscream figured his secret would best be kept in other hands.

It'd left him with sad excuse for a bot, Blitzwing. Of course, as far as his teammates went, the triplechanger was by far the one he least wanted to slaughter in some brutal way. Cold and cunning while simultaneously a bold, quick-witted, and fierce fighter Blitzwing would make a fine berthfellow… If only those traits hadn't been stretched out over three personalities.

But beggars can't be choosers.

Of course, even when the seeker wasn't a beggar he couldn't help but return to his partner's bed. There was no love between them –except for, perhaps, a slightly stronger understanding between them than before the tryst had begun—only lust. And their lust was truly something to behold: brutal, vicious, and anything but slow and tender.

Except for apparently now. This was the reason he hated Blitzwing. Sadistic son of a glitch. Denying the lean traitor when he most needed to be fulfilled.

Starscream arched forwards, thrusting his chassis against the sturdier built mech. "I'm going to rip you apa—ahhh—art if you don't pick up the pace," hissed the former second in command, head tilting forward so his scathingly whispered threats were directed right into the German accented mech's audios. Even as he spoke, his nimble fingers dropped, falling instantly to one place that many vorns of practicing with the triplechanger had taught him to be very sensitive. The claws dipped between his partner's tan armor just below his helm, fingering the thick cable he found there. The caress was anything but tender, roughly scraping along the sensitive wiring.

However, it got the lithe seeker what he wanted – as he knew it would. With a guttural moan, the larger bot's servos tightened around Starscream's slender waist, his hips thrusting with a far rougher tempo. Whines and groans were ripped from the smaller 'Con's lips, high-pitched moans slipping in frequently to excite the larger even more.

It didn't take long. The overly sensitive nodes in Screamer's tight channel were assaulted by the continuous thrusts of the relentless Blitzwing. Panting heavily, the seeker arched upwards, claws scrabbling at the other mech's backstruts, peeling away thin layers of paint in his ecstasy. His lips parted, though the scream that bubbled from them was soon swallowed by a feverish kiss. The tightening of the jet's leaking valve quickly brought his berthmate to overload as well, filling the sleek jet with warm transfluid.

They stayed like that, chassis-to-chassis, heating fans struggling to cool their all-but-fried systems as they basked in their afterglow. It was Starscream who shifted first, deft fingers darting between their bodies to pluck Blitzwing's spike from his valve. Couldn't have the goods being damaged when he pounded the fool into a pile of scrapmetal for being such a slagging tease.

A low growl rumbled in the traitor's vocalizer, kicking out at Blitzwing, his heel aught the slagger right in the knee, sending him stumbling backwards. Famous temper curling over his systems, Screamer's optics narrowed into thick slits, barely even noting that his partner was currently in the leering Random persona of his instead of his red-faced mode that such a kick should've sent him hurtling into. "Fragger! You ought to be honored to have the mighty Starscream in your grasp! Perhaps I should visit Lugnut next time. That glitch ought to at least be grateful enough to fr—" The lithe seeker's harsh threats were cut off by a sharp squeal, oh so very uncharacteristic for the purple flight commander.

"Ven vill vou learn that silence suits vou best?" The dry words were drawled slowly in that disinterested voice that Starscream was slowly coming to hate. "No vone likes empty threats, Starscream. Keep vour mouth shut." The larger mech cycled air still a bit faster than normally after his overload, puffing against the smaller jet's valve. His blunt finger was slowly working itself in and out of the tightly clenched valve – the initial intrusion of said appendage had been what had cut off the rabid mech in the first place.

Starscream bit back a whimper. Blitzwing would not have the pleasure of making him whine after only one finger… No matter how much his overly sensitized nodes quivered under the 'Con's expert touch.

Though he would never admit to anyone –certainly not the slagbrain himself—Starscream had missed Blitzwing's touches and caresses. Things truly did get lonely quickly when one was so used to be surrounded at all times by others. And, even while not in heat, Starscream did have an insatiable libido… His own servo simply grew boring after a while.

Even without his heat cycle, chances were Starscream would've wound up in the cave being used a temporary base sooner or later for sweet session of interfacing. Of course, without the cycle, perhaps he might've been able to make it past communication center into Blitzwing's berth…

But, no matter now. Datapads had been roughly strewn aside, a large enough place for the lean mech made on the slab of rock before they were 'facing hard, Screamer leaving little other options for Blitzwing as he ground roughly against him. Of course, not that Blitzwing would want any other options… He, too, had been feeling rather unfilled in the past few decivorns… However, he hadn't been feeling nearly needy enough to not tease the slag out of the traitor first. It was, after all, his duty as a loyal Decepticon, to make sure the former SiC paid his dues.

In accordance with punishing his friend-made-foe, Blitzwing was once more going tortuously slow. Inch by wretched inch, his single purple digit was pushing further and further into the shivering moisture that was Starscream. Once fully sheathed in that tight warmth, the triplechanger cackled that insane hoot of his, twitching the finger just enough to scrape against a sensitive cluster of nodes before he withdrew. The still giggling mech slammed his digit back in roughly, managing to squeeze in another with barely any difficulty thanks to their previous session.

The sound that left the traitor's vocalizer was music to the glitched 'Con's audios. Perhaps another, one not so accustomed to the little cues of Starscream's strained voice would've mistaken the high-pitched yip as something born of only pain… But Blitzwing, accustomed to his berthmate's quirks and idiosyncrasies, simply knew better. Pain mingled with pleasure in that little gasp of his and, because of the pain, it simply multiplied into more pleasure. Starscream was many things and a masochist was certainly one of them.

The triplechanger's pace never decreased after that, slamming back into the mech's sensitive valve. And Starscream, despite himself, couldn't help but thrust his hips back on those deliciously eager fingers, moaning like a wanton whore. He writhed, unable to help himself as his systems revved up, heating fans whirring as they struggled to keep him from cooled. Later, Starscream would positively loathe Blitzwing for reducing him to a mewling mess with only two fingers –he himself could not be to blame, of course—but, at the moment, Screamer could only wordlessly beg for me, rolling his hips and arching his neck.

And more was what he got. Fingers rubbing and sliding against extremely intimate nodes, Blitzwing fingered the lithe seeker with undeniable skill, coaxing his purple lover closer and closer still to overload. Starscream teetered on the brink of euphoria, every touch sending electric sparks cascading through his circuitry.

However, it wasn't until after the tell-tale whushkt of Blitzwing's changing faceplactes, the tempo of the fingers somehow managing to become even more brutal, clearly signifying Hothead was now in control, that the flyer managed to stumble over the edge of bliss.

Starscream's hips thrust forward, lifting off the slab of rock as his spinal struts curved almost to the point of pain. His scarlet optics shuttered offline for a brief moment as his claws scrambled at the stone, metallic lips parted in a silent scream as his vocalizer somehow managed to mute itself before it damaged anyone's audios. Silvery transfluid shot in a perfect arch from the flyer's spike as his valve simultaneously clenched around Blitzwing's fingers, leaking a mixture of lubricant and transfluid from their earlier coupling.

It took a moment before Starscream managed to calm himself from the undeniably theatrical overload. His cooling fans whirled in an obnoxiously loud manner as he cycled air in an almost frantic fashion.

Blitzwing only watched on in a half-leering, half-contented silence. One servo was curled loosely around his neglected jack, pumping slowly. He'd give the mech a moment of rest before going back on the attack. Couldn't have the needy flyer offlining too soon…

However, it did not seem Primus was smiling on the two that day. With steady steps and a deep, rumbling growl, the shadows parted to reveal a brawny silver mech. Crimson optics narrowed to furious slits, the mighty Megatron's gaze flickered between the two. "Are we quite finished?"

Starscream stirred at the all too familiar voice, a strange cocktail of dread and ire mixing in his CPU. Oh slag…