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“I thought you guys didn't do oil changes.” Barricade’s snarky remark cuts across the chatter of the uncomfortable seekers clustered around the Victory’s oil deposit room. Which is normally used only by grounders in the force to discard their dirty oil, and which now has an Out of Order sign plastered to the door. A terrible coincidence, considering half the air force is full of the wrong grade of oil.
A totally random error that occurred when they came back from exercises that morning and topped up with what they assumed was their usual grade. They’re probably getting urgent messages to drain their oil tanks or risk engine damage. Nothing less than a full tank flush would satisfy their systems.
At least, that’s what Skywarp figures is happening.
“We don't do oil changes,” growls Thrust, standing with his squirming trinemates and trying to look as stoic as possible. “Usually.”
All the jets huddling around the room are attracting attention. Barricade is of course there, and Wildrider has brought his gestalt, who are offering dumb suggestions about where to empty their tanks, which the air force isn’t taking well.
“This isn't a fragging show, move along,” says Nova Storm.
“It will be,” snickers Drag Strip, which causes a flustered outburst. The air force looks like they’re seconds from rioting, and probably will if they're forced to drain their oil in public.
Starscream, meanwhile, is standing at the head of the crowd, angrily comming Hook to fix the broken oil deposit.
“Yes, I’m aware fighter jets don't have to change oil ordinarily, smartaft, we’ve been sabotaged.” A pause. “What do you mean you're a doctor and “not a plumber or whatever”!? What about your gestalt?” Another pause. “Well, consider if you don’t fix it, I’ll kill you and stuff your battered corpse into a mineshaft. How do I get through your thick helm that we need–”
His tone is getting higher and shriller the more he argues, and his wings are ticked up to match the level of discomfort shown by the rest of the seekers.
Skywarp looks out across the crowd of trembling wings, and then at Thundercracker, next to him.
“What did you do this time, ‘Warp?” grumbles Thundercracker quietly, without even looking at him. He's been left unaffected by the prank. Mostly because Skywarp likes him.
“The sign on the door is fake,” says Skywarp, out of the corner of his mouth. “Also, Screamer keeps stealing my energon from the fridge and I had to get him back. So I swapped his oil with the wrong grade.”
“Fine. But why did you mess with everyone else?”
Skywarp shrugs. “‘Cause it’s funny.”
“He hung up on me!” screeches Starscream indignantly.
The announcement garners a wave of groans and complaints from the seekers. Starscream shouts at them to be silent. “Fine! This is fine! I’m an officer and have a private hab I can do it in.”
“What about us?” whimpers Nova Storm. A few others echo the sentiment more aggressively.
Starscream scoffs, folding his arms. “Not my problem. I don't care where you get rid of it, but you'd better not get the hangar dirty.”
Realizing their commander has abandoned them, most of the air force immediately rushes off to find private places to evacuate.
“You two,” says Starscream, pointing at Thundercracker and Skywarp imperiously. “I’ll graciously allow you to also use my hab. Mostly because I need one of you to carry out my old oil containers to dispose of when I’m done.”
“Sure, whatever,” says Skywarp. Thundercracker makes a face.
Starscream glares, looking them over suspiciously. “Why aren't either of you affected?”
“Uh,” says Thundercracker, reluctant to rat out Skywarp. “Because… we’re, um…”
“Actually, I don’t care,” says Starscream suddenly, cutting him off. He fidgets, looking flustered. “Hurry. This way.”
Starscream marches to his hab on the officers’ level and palms his frame, looking for his keycard. After several moments of searching, he begins to curse and empty his subspace frantically. “Of all the times… where did I leave it?”
While Starscream is distracted, Skywarp pulls out the keycard he’s looking for, which he’d pre-emptively stolen, turning it over in his fingers. Thundercracker frowns at him, but Skywarp puts a finger to his lips. Being a real pal, Thundercracker doesn't say anything, but looks like he feels guilty for not doing so. Skywarp suspects that feeling won't last, once the real fun gets going.
As the seconds drag on, Starscream is rapidly losing his patience, turning his knees inward and squirming.
“Look, there’s no one in the corridor. Just do it out here,” Skywarp suggests, when Starscream seems like he's about to throw a tantrum.
Starscream looks appalled, ego cutting through his desperation. “You must be joking.”
“Where else are you gonna do it? Squatting on the floor of the hangar with the coneheads?”
The mere suggestion makes Starscream pale in horror. “There must be somewhere,” he whines, but his processor isn't offering any clever suggestions, probably bombarded with urgent messages to drain his oil.
“Screamer, you’re gonna damage your engine if you don't get that stuff out quickly,” says Thundercracker.
“Yeah. Stop being so delicate,” adds Skywarp. “Here, use these.” He pulls two empty oil containers out of his subspace, waving one at Starscream, who rears back like he offered him poison.
“I'm not being delicate. This is a perfectly normal reaction to– to–” Starscream cuts himself off suddenly, both hands shooting down to clutch at his panel. He’s shaking with the effort of holding back. “I am not going in the middle of the hallway,” he snarls, once he’s recovered slightly. “One of you, go find me a private room. A storage closet. Anything. I don't care, just go.”
“Can you even make it to another room?” asks Thundercracker.
“Yeah, and if I warp ya somewhere else, you might accidentally get, like… jostled into going.”
“You two are completely useless!” snarls Starscream. “Fine! I’ll do it here! Just. Cover me. Quickly!”
Skywarp and Thundercracker stand on either side of him, using their wings to shield him from view somewhat. With a final nervous glance down the hall, Starscream opens his valve panel. He gestures to Skywarp. “Give me that. You two turn around and keep watch.”
At this point, Skywarp would have deemed Starscream suitably embarrassed from his prank.
Would’ve, if he hadn’t spontaneously gotten another devious idea. He smirks at Thundercracker. “TC can hold the container.”
“Oh. Uh,” says Thundercracker. He squints at Skywarp in confusion. What? He mouths over Starscream’s helm.
Trust me, Skywarp mouths back.
“I don't need him to do that!” Starscream tries to grab it, but Skywarp holds it out of his reach.
“Settle down. You trust us, right?”
“Do I look totally helpless to you? Give me that now.”
“Let Thundercracker do it.”
“Skywarp, I have no time for this!”
Thundercracker grabs the container. “Stop arguing. I’ll hold it.”
Starscream hesitates at Thundercracker’s very calm, sensible tone. “I don't want you participating.”
“Don't worry about it.”
“That’s not… hey!” Starscream squirms, clamping his thighs together as Thundercracker places a hand on his lower back and lines up the container with his valve. The bottle has a slender neck, which Thundercracker gently pokes between his valve lips, spreading them.
“There’s no need to get riled up. It’s just maintenance.” Thundercracker really has a way of making the most ridiculous slag sound normal and reasonable. Starscream isn’t immune to this power, and the more Thundercracker pats his back and murmurs to him, the weaker his restraint gets.
“Get that out of my valve,” Starscream hisses. He grabs Thundercracker’s wrist, trying to push him away. “I can't do it like this.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” Starscream’s face flushes dark with energon. “Why do you think?”
“I’ve seen your valve before. I don’t know why you’re being shy.”
“This is not the same and you know it!”
“Not really.” Thundercracker nudges the container more insistently between his valve. Starscream whimpers and clenches his thighs as his delicate parts are poked with the rim of the bottle.
“You’ll have to spread your legs,” says Thundercracker. “Or you’ll make a mess.”
“I’m telling you I can’t,” says Starscream, his field radiating humiliation. “I don’t want to.”
“Starscream,” says Thundercracker more sternly, prodding his lower back. “Don’t argue. You’re going to let this out now.”
Starscream bites his lip, looking like he’s dying to retort, but is unable to hold on any longer with the lip of the bottle digging into his node and oil release nozzle. Pouting, he widens his stance and angles his hips up. There’s a click from his pelvis, and an amber stream bursts out of his valve into the container. A soft moan bursts out of Starscream as well, and his optics dim with bliss.
“Yeah. That’s it,” goads Skywarp. Ignoring, for a second, the flash of excitement he got from hearing that moan.
Starscream looks so relieved he doesn't even tell him to shut up. His wings dip low, lips falling open to pant. His hips are shaking.
Suddenly, despite everything, Skywarp gets the feeling that maybe… they shouldn’t be watching this. There’s something about Screamer’s expression that’s kinda…
He glances at Thundercracker, who's completely hypnotized watching Starscream evacuate. TC's side of the bond is clamped down tight so none of the horniness is leaking through, but that expression is undeniable. Screamer's end of the bond had exploded with pleasure the moment he let loose, but that's less of a sexy pleasure... and it's slowly leveling off. Still, it's affecting them all, and Skywarp's more than happy to roll with it.
Starscream is going with enough force that Thundercracker doesn't need to hold the container right to his valve to collect it, so he carefully moves it forward. This way, they’re treated to an unobscured show of Starscream relieving himself. Which is… unexpectedly really hot.
Skywarp brushes his hand discreetly over his warming spike panel, taking a short video. He has a feeling Starscream enthusiastically spraying out his oil with that blissed-out expression will give him jerk off material for ages.
::He’s real cute when he’s doing it, isn’t he?:: Skywarp comms Thundercracker.
Thundercracker flinches, realizing he’s been caught staring. He quickly looks away, his face tinged pink.
::You're getting off on this too, huh?:: teases Skywarp. ::I can’t believe you forced him to go at your command. You're a sadist::
::What the hell is wrong with you?:: Thundercracker complains, but he sounds a little strained, and keeps peeking between Starscream’s legs.
After the immediate, all-consuming urge to flush his tank dies down, Starscream seems to remember to be ashamed again. He glances dazedly from Thundercracker to Skywarp. Then his optics blow open, and he squawks, “Why the hell are you two watching me? Turn around! You’re supposed to be keeping a lookout!”
“There's no one around,” says Skywarp.
“Well stop watching me!”
“I-I was just seeing how full it was getting,” says Thundercracker, just outright lying, putting his free hand up defensively.
“Then obviously, you’d see I need another container!” snaps Starscream, half-turning to yell at him.
“Yeah, yeah. Stay in position, Screamy.” Skywarp pokes him in the aft to tilt his hips forward again.
Starscream shoves his arm away. “Will you fuck off? I don't need your help!”
“Maybe we’d let you do it yourself, if you could actually aim,” says Skywarp, as Starscream’s wrestling with him causes the oil stream to splash out onto the floor. Starscream squeaks in anger as he repositions himself, swinging his hips forward to aim again into the brimming container.
Skywarp snickers. “You know you don't have to spray it out full bore? You’re too enthusiastic.”
“I can’t go any slower!” hisses Starscream, cheeks coloring. “The sequence runs automatically until my tank is drained!”
“Sure, okay. Move over, TC.” Skywarp nudges Thundercracker aside and quickly pushes the empty canister between Starscream’s legs. Oil spatters in, drumming the bottom.
Starscream flinches, plating clamping down. “It’s so loud…”
“Like I said, we’re the only ones here. Stop freaking out.”
“When you stop venting down my neck! Are you incapable of following orders?” Starscream glares between his trinemates. “For the last time, stop looking at me and watch the hallway!”
“Yeah. Right. Sorry,” mumbles Thundercracker, tearing his gaze away. He turns around to keep watch, holding Starscream’s full can of waste oil awkwardly. His bond's still politely stifled, but his sheepish expression tells that he’s rocking a huge, uncomfortable stiffy under his panel.
“You just focus on getting it all out,” says Skywarp, noting the way Starscream’s wings twitch with satisfaction as he rubs his lower back.
Starscream continues to flush his oil in a strong, steady stream. For several moments there’s silence, save for the noise of him filling the container. Skywarp thinks he’s settled down, until…
“How much do these hold?” asks Starscream, suddenly.
“Like 4 liters,” says Skywarp.
“How many do you have?”
“Just these two.”
Starscream curses, as the oil in the second canister quickly rises towards the brim. “I’m still at 15%. One of you, get another container!”
“Oh damn,” says Skywarp. “You shoulda told us sooner.”
“We have the same size tanks, you idiot. Why didn't you check you had enough empty canisters before we started? Thundercracker, go!”
“It’s kind of late for that,” says Thundercracker.
Starscream wails in horror. “So I’m supposed to let it out on the floor?”
“Like you made everyone else do?” snorts Skywarp.
“Skywarp! For the love of– I can't do that on the officer’s level!”
“What do you want us to do about it in the next ten kliks, genius?”
“I-I–” Starscream’s lower lip trembles. He glances frantically between Skywarp and Thundercracker and the rapidly filling container. Then he starts to whine, clinging to Skywarp’s arm. “I don’t know! I don’t want to! I can’t stop. Please–”
“Alright, settle down. Here, TC. Hold this,” says Skywarp, letting Thundercracker reach down and take the second container. Then Skywarp kneels between Starscream’s legs and seals his mouth over his valve. Oil sprays into his intake, and Skywarp gulps it down.
As far as his spur-of-the-moment ideas went, this one isn’t as bad as he’d expected. The air force tops up so often that their oil is nearly fresh at all times. Starscream is no exception, and his oil is pristine, with only a mild sweet flavor, pleasantly warm from circulating his frame.
Still, waste oil is waste oil, and Starscream, at capacity for humiliation, stammers incoherently. Thundercracker seems just as flabbergasted, gaping at Skywarp sucking on his valve.
“Stop! Stop!” wails Starscream, finding his voice. “Primus, that’s filthy!”
::Nope. It’s clean and sweet:: Skywarp comms, giving Starscream as cheeky of a smirk as his occupied mouth will allow. ::...Cleaner’n a grounder’s, at least::
That makes Starscream even more upset. “Don’t say that! Don’t fucking say that while–” He hides his face in his hands. Losing his fire, he sags against the wall.
Skywarp pats his hip. ::Just do what you need to::
Starscream doesn't have much of a choice. It’s either Skywarp’s mouth or the floor, but it's Starscream’s choice nonetheless. And despite his complaints, Skywarp notices that Starscream’s node is throbbing, hot in his mouth and prickly with charge. His valve is sticky as well, when Skywarp dips his glossa into the slit tentatively.
Oh, he's clearly getting something out of this. Skywarp’s not even holding him down, Starscream just relaxed into going into his mouth on his own. Skywarp can’t resist making fun of him.
::You’d rather use my mouth than the floor? You’re like a spoiled princess. Or real kinky::
“I would rather use neither!” chokes Starscream. “And you said it was fine!”
::Fine for you to get special treatment at my expense? I see how it is::
“Don’t act like I’m the pervert here, you pervert! I could feel you getting aroused through the bond this whole time. You're like a slavering cyber-ape. Have some shame!"
::If you’re gonna call me names, I’ll stop:: Skywarp pulls away.
Starscream yelps, grabbing at his helm and pushing his valve back against his mouth before too much oil is lost down Skywarp’s front. “Don’t you dare make me go on the floor!”
Yeah. That’s what Skywarp thought. ::I don’t think you’re appreciative enough. You’re real lucky you got such a nice trinemate to use as an oil dump::
Starscream looks away, too ashamed to watch while he completely lets loose in Skywarp’s mouth. Primus, what a hot juxtaposition. Made even hotter by the fact that Screamer’s enjoying it. For once, he’s lucky Starscream is such a prissy, demanding brat. He doubts he’d get an opportunity like this otherwise.
::No use pretending to be embarrassed. You’re totally into this::
Starscream’s scowl wavers with surprised, reluctant bliss, valve twitching as Skywarp tickles his oil nozzle with the tip of his glossa. The opening is full of sensors, and it probably feels delicious to have it stimulated.
“Skywarp!” Starscream snaps in warning.
Skywarp plugs the tip of his glossa into his oil nozzle, stopping the flow momentarily. Then he sucks, drawing out oil harshly, lapping the entrance after each suck. The suction and licking also stimulates his node at the same time, and Starscream’s valve begins to twitch erratically.
“No, no, no! Stop that! Stop doing that while I’m–”
While he’s complaining, Skywarp pressurizes his spike straight into his hand and starts tugging himself off. Why should Screamer be the only one enjoying himself?
“Skywarp, you filthy little–!” Starscream kicks him weakly in the side– as hard as he can without moving his valve. It’s dawning on Screamer that he’s in a real predicament– he doesn't want to overload, but can’t pull away without making a mess. Skywarp’s caught him in the perfect situation to eat him out. And jerk off.
“Thundercracker!” bleats Starscream pathetically. “You take over, since he’s fooling around!”
“You want me to…?” Thundercracker asks, turning around a little too enthusiastically.
Skywarp snorts. There’s no way TC’s gonna be able to resist Screamer pouting at him with those big, shimmery optics. He can practically hear his panel creaking under the pressure of his hard-on.
“Come here! I need to use your mouth. I still have more. Hurry!” whines Starscream.
“A-alright.” Thundercracker shuffles over, to come ruin his fun. It was nice while it lasted.
“Yes, come here.” Starscream reaches for Thundercracker, clutching his arm in relief. “Kneel down. I need… Wait. What?” Starscream’s expression morphs into utter confusion as Thundercracker moves behind him. “What– what are you doing!?”
Skywarp has no idea either, until he hears the sound of Thundercracker pressurizing his spike, and a garbled squawk from Starscream getting it pushed inside him from behind.
::Whoa:: says Skywarp. ::Didn’t think you had it in you, TC::
“Sorry,” pants Thundercracker. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“THUNDERCRACKER!” Starcream’s betrayed howl reverberates down the hall.
“Sorry,” says Thundercracker again, thrusting gently so Skywarp can keep his mouth on Starscream’s valve. “You’re so hot when you’re desperate. Begging to let it out in my mouth was… really naughty.”
“You know I didn't mean it like that!”
“What other way could you have meant it? You like being spoiled.”
“What is wrong with you two!? Both of you were in on this, weren’t you!? You set me up to star in your sick, twisted fantasy!”
::That’s giving TC too much credit::
“Skywarp, when I get my hands on you–!” screeches Starscream.
“We’re trine, but we’ve never seen you do this before,” interrupts Thundercracker. “It’s… really special. And private.” Oil is streaming out around Thundercracker’s shaft as he drives in with wet slaps, the stream increasing in force every time he pushes in. He holds Starscream firmly around the waist and growls, “Don’t ever let anyone else watch you do this. This is only for us to see.”
“Don’t try to make this romantic,” moans Starscream, rocking his hips against Skywarp’s mouth. “No one was supposed to see this, and when I’m finished, you’re both going to wish you were dead.”
“Shh, enjoy it.”
With a half-stifled cry, Starscream overloads hard, flooding Skywarp’s mouth with lubricant. His valve flexes, jetting the last of his oil out in hard spurts. After a few clenches of his valve to squirt the dregs into Skywarp’s mouth, he collapses in Thundercracker’s arms.
And like that, he’s all emptied out. Skywarp sits back on his heels and pats Starscream’s thigh. “Nicely done, Screamer.”
Thundercracker nuzzles Starscream’s cheek, murmuring nonsense about how good he is as his hips shudder to a stop. The burning pleasure flowing through the bond kicks off Skywarp’s overload too, and he shoots into his hand. For all his complaining, Starscream sure doesn’t feel angry. Just waves and waves of contentment, alongside himself and Thundercracker.
Starscream rouses slowly from his overload-induced stupor, using Thundercracker for support as he straightens, on wobbling legs. For a few kliks, his expression is blissful. Then, as he comes to his senses, frowny. Then thunderous.
He slams his panel shut. His dark faceplate is shiny and taut with all the energon that's flooding his cheeks.
“Not even a thank you?” grins Skywarp, as Starscream looms over him, claws curling into fists. “After I made you overload so hard you almost fell on your aft?”
“I helped,” mutters Thundercracker.
Starcream slowly turns to look at him, plating flared out.
“Uh,” says Thundercracker, sobering up instantly. “I mean–”
—
Skywarp dunks his tiny brush into the bucket of solvent and scrubs at a crack in the floor paneling.
Thundercracker’s on his hands and knees next to him, with an even tinier brush. And a dent in the shape of Starscream’s open hand on his cheek.
Skywarp can’t hold back anymore– he starts cackling uncontrollably. “I can’t believe he assigned you a longer cleaning duty than me. Guess he didn’t think that slag you said about watching him void was all that romantic.”
Thundercracker blushes and scrubs harder at the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”