
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/685188.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Transformers_(IDW_Generation_One)
  Relationship:
      Axe/Dai_Atlas, Axe/Wing, Dai_Atlas/Wing
  Character:
      Axe_(Transformers), Dai_Atlas_(Transformers), Wing_(Transformers)
  Additional Tags:
      Tactile, Sticky_Sex, Plug_and_Play, Field_Sex, Spark_Sex, First_Time,
      Size_Kink, safe_sex, Knights_of_Light, Parent/Child_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-15 Words: 11032
****** When a Sparkling Comes of Age ******
by Cyberra, gatekat
Summary
     Knights of Light. Axe/Dai Atlas/Wing
     1 new mechling. 2 creators. 3 very long orns. 7 methods of interface.
     Being overly cautious on the warning. He's of age to them.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Dai Atlas stood in the main medical bay, arms crossed over his chest and one
wing twitching, looking over toward the room where his sparkling, Wing, was
getting his mechling upgrades. The little jetling was growing up, too fast for
the big triple changer's peace of mind.
"They always grow up too fast," Axe leaned against his larger mate. "He's going
to be such a spark-breaker and wanted berth warmer."
The larger mech rumbled, his plating vibrating. "That's what worries me."
"He'll enjoy it and you know it," Axe leaned in a little harder. "You know no
one is going to hurt him."
"I also know how impulsive Wing is," Dai Atlas replied. "He's already got half
a dozen other Knights willing to get into his berth."
"Nothing wrong with that, lover," Axe caught his hand and squeezed it. "Wing
may be impulsive, but he's never done anything he knows is dangerous. If he
ends up with a newspark or damaged, we failed. We are not going to fail."
A deep ex-vent was the reply as the Sovereign of Light leaned against his mate.
Silence reigned for a long moment before the blue mech spoke again. "We will
have to make sure he knows the risks."
"We will," Axe smiled slightly. "Besides, can you imagine any of the Knights
risking your wrath by hurting him? You're the scariest carrier in history."
"You do have a point," the larger mech admitted, managing a chuckle. It
actually had been funny, in hindsight, to see other Knights scuttling out of
his way like turbo-chicks spotting a crystal viper. No one had wanted to come
anywhere near him until several decaorns after Wing had separated and it was
clear that getting his flight-frame back had settled his already-infamous
temper.
"Now, I want to show him the fun of 'facing by the mecha-koi ponds," Axe
grinned up, already knowing how well that was going to go over. "He might as
well get used to being out in the open with a frame like his. You know he'll do
it in the air often enough."
Wide white wings flared, red optics turning to stare down at his mate. "You
want to what?" The last part of the question was almost a sputter.
"I intend for his first time to be by the koi ponds," Axe repeated. "It's
utterly romantic and beautiful."
"It's in the open, where everybody can see," Dai Atlas retorted, forcing his
wings to fold again.
"And what you did to court and bond with me wasn't?" Axe grinned up
unrepentantly. "When did you become such a prude?"
"That was intended to be seen," Dai Atlas replied, wings twitching. "To make
sure everyone knew you were mine. But the first interface... That, in my
experience, should be a private thing. My first time was in my mentor's
quarters, just he and I."
"Huh," Axe cocked his helm. "Mine was in an open officer's barracks so I could
experience several mecha under my trainer's watch once he'd shown me the
basics."
"Eventually I did experience different mecha, but my first time was private."
The big mech's plating twitched briefly as he unburied those old memories
briefly. "I will take Wing in our quarters."
Axe nodded his acceptance. "I figured you would, and that'll be good for him
too. At least Redline already installed the smaller interface equipment for us.
Not even your patience could prep him to take your real spike."
"Not in his mechling frame. The size difference would be just too great." The
blue triple changer nodded. He recalled Redline's pointing that out to both of
them a metacycle before Wing was scheduled to be upgraded.
"Even with mine to loosen him up first," Axe chuckled, optics on their youngest
creation as Redline installed the largest new component of the mechling frame:
the penetrative interface unit. "Do you want me to leave anything untouched,
for you to be first?"
"Spark," his larger mate answered firmly. Wide wings flared once and folded
again.
"Sure," Axe smiled and rubbed against him affectionately and soothingly. "I'll
make sure he's looking forward to it too."
Dai Atlas rumbled softly, wrapping an arm around his mate and holding him close
as they watched Redline working on their sparkling.
===============================================================================
Wing bounced slightly as he walked, or trotted, alongside his sire, still
getting used to the upgrades. New parts always felt odd for a couple of orns
after they were installed, and newly uploaded protocols made his processor itch
for about the same length of time. He hadn't missed the looks he was getting
from some of the other Knights, but Axe had requested that Wing accompany him,
and the young jetling had agreed, always willing to spend time with his
creators.
He could feel it in the black Knight's field that this was a serious walk, but
there was excitement in Axe too.
"How are your upgrades settling in?" Axe asked as they walked through one of
the smaller meditation gardens.
"Settling well, with the usual amount of odd sensations," the smaller mech
replied, ruffling his now-longer wings. "Upgrades always feel weird for an orn
or so."
"Especially ones as intensive as mechling," Axe nodded, his stride smooth but
shortened out of courtesy of his company. "No other upgrades are as altering to
the basic frame and protocol structure. Not even when you got your wings and
flight protocols as a youngling, though I understand it is close."
"That time the joy of finally having wings and being able to get off the ground
canceled out the oddness," Wing replied, flaring one and brushing its tip
against his sire's dark armor. His bright optics took in the garden, the
elegant crystal trees gleaming as light reflected off their surfaces.
"Are you looking forward to the new pleasures of this upgrade?" Axe smiled
down, his field brushing gently against his creation's.
"I've been hearing so much about this particular upgrade... I'm looking forward
to seeing if any of what I've heard is true." Thin, short white wings fluttered
out of their V tuck with anticipation, the young jetling bouncing again.
Axe chuckled. "If you have a good lover, it definitely is all that and better.
Which is why it's tradition for your family to be the ones to introduce you to
the various kinds of interfacing, how to do it properly, safely and what to do
if something doesn't go well or you're damaged."
White audial fins flared out as Wing blinked up at his dark-plated sire.
"You're going to teach me?"
"Your carrier wishes to teach you of spark play and will cover fields as well,
I plan to cover tactile, penetrative and hardline methods," Axe said easily as
he found an empty bench in a relatively secluded corner of the mecha-koi
garden. "I know Redline gave you the safety download. You're going to hear it
again from both of us."
Wing bounced over to sit next to him, gazing briefly into the nearest pond at
the mecha creatures gliding about in the fine oil. A couple noticed and came
over to investigate, peering up at him. He chirped at them, then turned his
attention to his sire, golden optics bright and curious.
With a smile Axe collected his creation into his lap and stroked his back, a
single finger down the main strut between his wings. "The first thing to
remember is that it will not be all today. It is a minimum of seven overloads.
That is too many in a single orn."
A soft chirr escaped Wing as he leaned into the touch, blinking up at the older
mech. "It is?"
Axe laughed deeply in good humor as his touch continued. He shifted his hand to
rub along Wing's backstrut with a folded finger so two outer ones could slide
along the untucked wings. "Yes, my dear mechling, it is. It will wear you out.
As you'll soon learn, an overload takes a lot out of you. It's draining. One or
two is generally all most mecha are capable of without recharge, or at least a
cube of energon."
The young jet purred, leaning into the touches. "I've been told it feels really
good, but no one ever said anything about it being draining." His wings
loosened even further, tilting into Axe's stroking.
"Because most mecha recharge afterwards," Axe smiled down at him and kept the
gentle attention up. "You will get a sense of your own endurance soon. Your
frame will let you know when it doesn't want to overload again without more
energy. Listen to it. Though generally the worst that will happen is that you
drop off line and stay that way. Which is only dangerous if you're in the air."
Wing was almost melting into the touches. He'd always enjoyed being touched,
especially by his creators, but this felt better than usual. It was sending
tingles through his frame, odd sensations swirling through his sensor net.
"I'll wait until I have a better sense of my endurance before attempting
anything in the air," he promised, fluttering his pinions. He'd crashed enough
to know how much it hurt and how much of a lecture it got him from Redline.
"Good," Axe purred, his field full of approval. "The second thing that is very,
very important to remember is to never spark merge with anyone you aren't
willing to bond with or carry for right then. There are so many ways we can
share pleasure that do not have repercussions. Keep that one for mecha you
trust and care for deeply."
Golden optics blinked at that. It took him a klik to drag himself away from the
new sensations to register what Axe was saying. "I'll be careful, sire," he
replied, leaning against the broad black chestplate.
"Good," Axe purred, his fingers shifting slightly to put caressing pressure on
the joints and transformation seams of his creation's slender wings. "Not every
spark merge will result in a permanent change in your existence, but it is best
to assume so. To kindle or bond as a mechling is extremely dangerous. Your
spark and frame are not mature enough to sustain either easily. We don't want
to see you hurt that way."
Wing hummed acknowledgement, white armor beginning to fluff out. The touches
felt so good, sending heat through his frame. Slender wings trembled slightly
at the building sensations.
The big black mech smiled at his creation, his field tuned to teek pleasure.
"Touch feels different now."
"Very different," Wing agreed, a sound that was almost a whimper accompanying
the words. He pressed into Axe's hand, optics dimming, armor flaring out to
vent the heat that had built underneath.
"It's the same touch, but new protocols are interpreting it differently," Axe
smiled and continued to stroke Wing's back and wings. "Your wings, sensor and
control surfaces will be the most sensitive for this kind of touch, though you
will eventually develop preferences that are yours, rather than just your
frame's. Those are nothing to shy away from. If it feels good, it's not a bad
thing."
The only answer Wing could give was a shuddering moan, his whole frame
trembling. One hand clawed lightly at Axe's armor, optics dimming and
flickering as the unfamiliar heat swept through him.
"What you're feeling now is sensual pleasure," Axe purred, his interface
systems powering up at the pleasure and heat pouring off the mech in his lap.
His field entwined more solidly, encouraging Wing's pleasure and his own.
"Don't resist what's coming. It's good. Pure pleasure." He rumbled, speaking
more so Wing heard his voice than to impart anything.
The jetling's frame shivered all over, a warbling keen escaping as the heat
surged through him, sending charge racing through his sensor net. He clutched
at his sire's frame, armor rattling, venting hot air from every vent and seam,
trembling in the aftermath of his very first overload.
Axe's touch shifted, just a little, from arousing to comforting as he held his
creation and cooed until the white bundle of energy in his lap had stilled and
calmed. The white mech went almost limp, slumped against his creator's torso,
venting heavily. His armor rattled softly as he trembled, struggling to get his
proverbial pedes back under him.
"That was an overload, a fairly gentle one," Axe said when he was fairly sure
Wing could understand.
Wing blinked slowly, tilting his helm to look up. "That's what an overload
feels like?"
"Yes," Axe continued to stroke his back lightly, keeping the touch platonic.
The black Knight's sparkling considered that. "It felt... Odd. But good-odd."
"It will soon no longer be odd," Axe grinned. "That was tactile, an overload
induced by touching."
"I enjoyed that." Wing let his optics dim slightly. "And I see what you mean
about it being draining."
A soft smile crossed the black Knight's features and he took a Wing-sized cube
of energon from subspace. "Here, my sparkling. Drink."
The way Wing eagerly snatched up and started gulping the cube was a hint that
his fuel tanks had been a bit on the low side already. His engines purred
softly as he downed the fuel, snuggling into Axe's warm armor.
"That would be why we're spreading out your interface education over a few
orns," Axe lifted his hand to stroke Wing's helm lightly. "We want you to know
what you're doing when you're turned loose in the city's population. The
Knights we trust. The rest, not quite so much."
"Makes sense," the little jet agreed between mouthfuls. Setting the empty cube
down, he snuggled closer, curling one arm between his frame and Axe's, ex-
venting slowly. Axe continued to stroke him gently, encouraging the youth to
fall into recharge that his systems were requesting. There was one more long
ex-vent, then Wing's optics powered down completely and his systems quieted
down as he settled into recharge. He purred softly even in recharge, latched
firmly enough onto Axe that prying him lose would take some effort. The big
mech had no desire to though. He was more than content to relax on the bench
and watch the mecha-koi swim while his creation recharged soundly in his lap.
===============================================================================
It was a few joors later when Wing finally stirred, his wings twitching against
Axe's arm and his optics began warming up. Blinking sleepily, the jet raised
his helm to look up at his sire, yawning.
"Welcome to the functioning, my little jetling," Axe's deep voice and warm
amusement rolled over Wing with the warmth of the suns most never saw.
Wing chirped in response, rubbing his cheek against Axe's chestplate. He
stretched, wings and pinions fluttering, then settled again. "What do we do
now?"
"If you are interested, I'll introduce you to your spike," Axe smiled, his
field reinforcing that it didn't need to be now.
White audial fins flared out as Wing considered that for a moment. The earlier
overload had felt good, and he was eager to learn and experience more.
Chirring, he nodded his agreement, sitting up on Axe's lap.
The black mech nodded and embraced Wing's back, giving him support while his
free hand slid down the mechling's frame to caress over the spike cover, giving
it a single gentle circle.
It took the little jetling a klik of hunting through his new protocols to find
the commands to open his spike cover. Bright optics watched his sire's fingers
with interest, a purr escaping from his vocalizer.
"Let it extend and pressurize on its own, not by command," Axe instructed him
with a rumble, tracing his finger lightly around the housing. "Penetrative
interfacing is the most common, requires the least skill and is often the
fastest way to overload."
Wing tried to reply, but the words were lost in a moaning sound. He clutched at
Axe's plating, glad of the arm supporting him. Otherwise he was sure he would
have fallen right off his sire's lap.
"That's right, my lad," Axe purred, circling the housing once more. "Relax into
the pleasure. It's a wonderful thing to have and to share."
The white mech purr-moaned as his spike twitched in its housing, slowly
beginning to extend and pressurize. He stared down at it, momentarily
distracted by the odd sensation, his wings and pinions twitching as he watched
Axe's large black fingers continue to circle and stroke, lighting up sensors
for the first time. When the head was fully visible, Axe swiped his thumb over
the softer metal, feeling the sensor nodes and slit before sliding around the
emerging shaft.
Wing's entire frame twitched at that, making an odd sound. His hips bucked
slightly, involuntarily, into the black mech's hand. The small jet's wings were
almost vibrating against his back as his spike continued to extend,
pressurizing all the way out of its housing. He was a bit aware of the heat
rising from Axe's frame, but it was still cool compared to his own.
The large black hand curled around the shaft and rubbed slowly, gliding along
in short strokes that caressed the entire length.
Wing let out a whimpering moan, his hips squirming into the touch. It felt
good, so good. The same heat he'd felt before his first overload was building
under his armor, even more quickly than the first time. His sire continued to
stroke his spike, gradually speeding up while he provided all the support his
creation needed to remain steady.
The white mech's jaw worked, but he was unable to form words. His optics were
wide but not quite seeing, still fixed on the large dark hand working his
spike. A soft mewling sound escaped as his hips bucked again, his field pulsing
a bit erratically against his sire's. Axe pulsed his field in return,
encouraging him without adding much to Wing's charge.
"Don't be startled by what comes out of your spike," Axe rumbled. "It's
normal."
Another shudder rattled the jetling's armor as the rising charge crashed over
him. Silvery transfluid burst from his spike, covering Axe's hand. Wing let out
a surprised yip, staring, but otherwise barely moved as energy raced through
his systems. He trusted his sire to keep him from falling.
He was still gasping, his armor flaring and contracting to aid the forcing of
air through his systems to cool him off when he came back to his senses enough
to see and comprehend what was going on again.
Hazy gold optics blinked and flickered, finally managing to focus on Axe's
face. A white wing twitched slightly, drooping from its tuck. It took Wing a
klik or two to regain coherence, looking at the silver fluid covering his
sire's armor. "What...?"
"Transfluid," Axe chuckled, taking a cloth from subspace to clean up with. "The
normal result of a spike overload. It and valve lubricant is why this method is
often called sticky or squishy as slang."
"Ahh." Wing nodded slowly. He'd heard those terms a few times but had never
really understood. Lifting a hand, he poked a curious finger at the transfluid
on Axe's armor.
"It's safe," the big mecha laughed easily. "A common way of inducing a spike
overload is in the oral cavity. Most mecha swallow it."
That got Axe a dubious look for a moment. Wing eyed the silvery stuff on his
fingertip, then cautiously lifted his hand and placed his finger in his mouth,
his expression that of someone who's not sure they're going to like the result.
It was almost tasteless, with only metallic hints and a heavy charge. Mostly it
was a texture. Gooey and slippery.
"It can be an acquired taste," Axe chuckled. "Every mecha tastes a bit
different, even if it doesn't taste like much to you now."
Wing made a slight face. "I'll take your word for that... It will take some
getting used to." He watched his creator wiping off the last of the transfluid,
white armor settling back into place. His spike gradually receded into his
housing.
"Experience will see to that," Axe smiled warmly and pulled a cube of energon
out for his creation, offering it silently.
The young mech accepted the cube, sipping it rather than gulping it down as he
had the first time. The overload had still been draining, but it hadn't been as
bad the second time. Maybe because his tanks had already been full. Humming
softly, Wing turned that over in his processor as he drank.
Finishing his energon, Wing set the empty cube aside, chirping softly as one of
the mecha-koi in the pond came over to investigate. Shifting on Axe's lap, he
looked up to meet his sire's blue optics. "What now?"
"If you're up to it, you can feel what a big spike in your valve feels like,"
Axe rumbled, truly eager. "There's no need to hurry through these, though."
"I want to learn," Wing replied firmly, sitting up on his sire's lap and
leaning against dark armor. His optics, when he looked up, were bright and
interested. "I'm ready."
"You were kindled ready," Axe chuckled, stroking his creation's back. "Lay back
on the bench," he said, scooting to the end.
Wing chirred, his wings fluttering behind him as he did so, laying on his back.
One wingtip hit the forgotten empty cube, knocking it into the koi pond. It
immediately started bobbing across the surface as the mecha-koi came over to
investigate. The white jet ignored it, all his attention on his sire as Axe
shifted to straddle the bench. He watched large black hands, each able to
encircle his waist, though it was a near thing now, smoothed over his hips,
caressing the armor and cables he could reach. The thumbs slid inward, roaming
along much more sensitive metal.
"Same as before, don't try to trigger anything, but let it happen," Axe
rumbled, excitement clear in his harmonics.
Wing nodded, letting out a chirp of agreement. That chirp became a purr as
black thumbs stroked over sensitive metal, sending tingles through the white
jet's frame. Tingles became zaps of pleasure and a deep moan before it slid
open smoothly. Axe rumbled and slid his thumbs further inward, stroking the
outer rim of platelets.
That touch got a choked sound from the white mech. He hadn't expected that area
to be so sensitive. He squirmed against Axe's hands, trying to press closer.
White wings flared out to their full span, tips quivering. Axe stroked him
again, a little further in.
It generated another choked sound and a whine of pleasure. White armor fluffed
and rattled as Wing trembled, trying to scoot closer to the larger mech. He
could feel something starting to ooze around the edges of those platelets, but
figured it was a normal reaction. His hands pawed at the smooth surface of the
bench, his optics fixed on Axe's hands, as much of them as he could see at that
angle. It gave him a perfect view of his sire's spike beginning to slide out
and pressurize as the thumbs moved deeper into his platelets, rubbing as much
as stroking.
Wing only managed to hold relatively still through sheer force of will, though
his control was fraying. His optics were wide, fixed on what he could see, his
frame twitching and squirming against the berth. It felt so good, better than
he'd imagined it might. One hand moved away, just a bit, but before the whine
of protest could be voiced Axe slid his finger between the platelets to rub
around the valve's outer ring, then inside it.
The jetling's valve was dripping with lubricant. Wing's voice hit an
interesting pitch, his back arching ever so slightly as he pressed into the
touch. His armor fluffed, hot air shimmering over his plating, wings wiggling
so rapidly the tips blurred. Slowly Axe moved his finger in and out, stroking
and stretching to ensure his creation wasn't damaged by his spike. Though it
was noticeably smaller than his usual one, it was still sizeable for a mecha as
small as Wing to take in. He was focused on Wing's field, intent on causing
only pleasure.
Wing tried to say something, but all that came out were odd sounds, so he
finally gave up. His field pulsed wildly against Axe's, but there was no
discomfort in it. The black mech's touch felt good, very good, and the white
mech's field expressed as much.
With a shudder of anticipation Axe withdrew his finger and leaned forward,
covering his creation completely. One hand reached down to brace on the ground
while the other caught Wing's hip to hold him steady. Wing was venting hot air
from every vent and armor seam, trying his best to hold still. Bright, wide
gold optics watched every move his sire made, one trembling hand lifting to
stroke over black armor. Axe drew in a steadying intake and pressed forward,
sinking the tip of his new spike into Wing's valve, feeling it stretch easily
around him, enveloping him in the blissful tightness and slick heat of a ready
and eager lover.
It had been so long since he'd been with anyone besides his mate.
At the sensation of a spike easing into his valve, the white jet's optics went
perfectly round, a squeak emerging from his vocalizer. There was the tiniest
flicker of discomfort, then it was swamped by the pleasure of having so many
sensors stimulated at once in a way new protocols told him was blissful. It
didn't matter how odd it was to have another inside him. It felt amazing.
"Primus, you're tight," Axe gasped, shuddering as the pleasure and charge raced
through him. "Feels so good."
Whining his agreement, Wing clawed lightly at his sire's ebony chestplates, one
leg automatically curling around the larger mech's hip. Managing to scrape up
at least some processor power, he experimentally shifted the calipers in his
valve, shivering at the resulting sensations, then again at the pleasure that
roared in his sire's field.
Axe panted as he stilled, finally seated fully inside his creation. Slowly,
with a deep groan, he began to pull out. It was taking everything he had not to
overload and spill into the incredible tightness around him, but he managed.
The white mech whined slightly as Axe pulled out, audial fins flaring out and
then folding tight to his helm. Finding the edge of one of Axe's armor plates,
Wing latched onto it, clinging to black plating. He keened, high and sharp,
when that incredible fullness returned with a roll of Axe's hips forward. The
slide of becoming empty, then full in a maddening cycle that had Axe panting
and trembling above him.
Both hands hooked into and latched onto Axe's dark armor, Wing twitching and
moaning under his creator. Charge was building fast. The overload would not be
long in coming. Not for either of them. The intensity of the slide of fullness
soon had Wing right on the edge as his sire thrust into him deeply, pressing
the head of his spike against the thick cluster of nodes at the end of Wing's
valve.
The roar Axe let loose vibrated the pond oil and made the crystal plants chime
with the first burst of hot, thick, charged transfluid burst from him to fill
the tight valve he was inside.
Wing's whole frame spasmed, his vocalizer letting out a keening shriek. His
valve calipers clamped down on Axe's spike as hard as they could, the young
jet's hands tightening on black armor. If he'd been any bigger or stronger his
grip would have left dents in the thick plating. Charge roared through him,
arcing over his plating and curling through his systems.
They were both locked in the grip of their overloads, the energy feeding off
the other's until it was finally used up. Axe's hand dropped from Wing's hip to
the ground to support him as he gasped for cooling air, their heat enough to
make the pond oil shimmer and drive the forms that could move to get away.
Reluctantly Axe gathered himself enough to pull out of his creation and smiled
at the dazed, pleasure-soaked features as Wing worked to collect his processors
enough to understand.
It took several kliks for the twitching to stop, and almost a breem for Wing's
optics to focus on Axe, albeit a little blearily. The white mech tried to say
something, only managing to squeak before something resembling an actual word
escaped.
"Mark of a good overload," Axe rumbled, pleased with himself. "The longer the
reboot, the stronger it was."
"It was... it was..." Wing resorted to gesturing wildly with his hands, unable
to find the right words to describe the experience. Managing to roll over, he
crawled over to press against his sire's armor, purring contentedly. Despite
his focus, he caught both Alt and Thorn at the edge of polite range, watching
but silent and still.
The larger mech embraced him, unconcerned by the lubricant and transfluid
pooling on the bench and under it. "I hope it's still amazing when the older
youngsters around here get done teaching you their tricks," Axe chuckled. "You
can spend the night with one of them, or with us, or in your own room, as you
wish."
Wing murmured something Axe couldn't quite make out, crawling into the bigger
mech's lap and curling up. Tucking his helm under his sire's chin, he nuzzled
drowsily, clinging to black armor.
He chuckled lowly, amusement, affection and pleasure rich in his field as he
shifted his creation slightly so he could stand up, Wing in his arms much like
when the little stunt jet was a sparkling. "Sorry lads, he's going with me this
time."
The two interested Knights simply nodded and wandered away. They'd have their
chance eventually. A mechling's first few vorns were notorious for berth-
hopping.
===============================================================================
Dai Atlas hummed as he listened to his mate clean up in their private washrack
for the orn's duties. His SIC and mate would be pulling double duty today,
covering his own as well as Dai Atlas' duties to the Citadel. Dai Atlas' duties
to the Order could be handled when Wing was in recharge or put off an orn to
see to his creation's needs. The Order's ways were demanding and strict, but
not inflexible.
When he felt Wing's systems begin to come on line he carefully flared his
field, greeting his creation and speaking as a lover rather than a creator.
Wing's field reached out to brush against his carrier's as the mechling's
optics warmed up. Chirring softly, Wing lifted his helm to gaze at his creator,
smiling brightly at the blue mech nearly three times his height and many times
his mass.
"Did you enjoy what Axe showed you?" Dai Atlas rumbled, watching and feeling
through his field as he modulated to match up with Wing's and pulse it into the
relaxed white frame to make every circuit tingle.
"It was interesting, educational, and quite enjoyable," the white mech chirped,
stretching. A shiver ran through his frame at the touches to his field, and
chirr became purr as the young mech sidled over to lean against his carrier.
"This is another way to be intimate," Dai Atlas rumbled, quite willing to
encourage his creation to be close with another pulse. "It is possible to
induce an overload by manipulating your field. It is generally considered the
most difficult method to master, though it is also the most instinctive to use
in combination with other forms since teeking is intrinsic to our kind."
Wing blinked, his audial fins flaring out in curious interest. "I've never
heard about that method." Another shiver ran through his frame as he draped
himself over Dai Atlas' nearer leg.
"It's rarely practiced," Dai Atlas admitted as he modulated his field to light
up sensors all the way through Wing's frame, right to his spark chamber. "Of
the seven common stimulation points, this is the most difficult to master. It
is also one of the two oldest, dating back to before we had frames if legend is
to be believed."
The much smaller jetling was purring like a cybercat, his field pulsing back
against his carrier's, though his was more erratic and clumsy. "Feels
goooooooooood..." He almost flopped across Dai Atlas' lap, armor trembling, his
cooling fans whirring to life.
"If you ever wish to learn, I will be happy to teach you," Dai Atlas smiled
easily, enjoying the feedback and the loop he created smoothly. The truth was,
he still remembered a time before the penetrative systems that are now so
favored even existed. Field and hardline and spark came more easily to him than
most who learned the physical methods as youths. "Though I do not recommend
attempting to do so until your final upgrades."
"I'll probably take you up on that," Wing managed to gasp out, kneading at Dai
Atlas' leg without even noticing. His turbines were revving, the tang of jet
engine sweeping over both mechs, riding the warm air venting from under white
armor.
Another smile, this one slightly more aroused, followed Wing's physical
reactions to the field play. Without warning Dai Atlas pushed a heavy burst of
his spark energy into his field to flow through his creation, hitting
everything at once.
The small jet's frame bucked, hands clamping onto his carrier's leg armor. The
sound he let out was something like a wailing keen, or a keening wail, charge
crawling over his plating. Sparks leaped off onto Dai Atlas, prickling at his
sensor net. The big triple changer hummed and continued to pulse his field,
cycling Wing's overload through his much more resilient systems and back into
his field, driving the mechling into a processor-blinding sequence of minor
overloads that gradually tapered off until Wing was little more than a
quivering lump of strutless white attached to a blue leg.
"Showoff," Axe teased him as he came out of the washrack. "Any marks left on
me?"
Dai Atlas dutifully looked at his mate as Axe did a slow turn. "You're clean."
Wing could barely even twitch, completely limp over his carrier's leg. All his
fans were running on high, steam curling lazily from several armor seams,
almost cross-opticked from sheer bliss. He let out a soft whistling sound as he
slid straight into recharge.
The next thing he became aware of was his energy level pinging him incessantly
for attention. Then a cube of energon was in front of him even before he
managed to on-line his optics, the scent rich and enticing.
"Drink," Dai Atlas's voice was of command.
There was a scraping of metal on metal as still-not-quite-coordinated limbs all
tried to move in different directions at once. Wing flailed, practically
falling face-first into the energon. Latching onto the cube, he gulped down the
energon, purring as the fuel hit his tanks.
He felt his creator's rumbling laugh of amusement, untempered by any annoyance
as he drank and came to his senses. "Feeling better?"
"Much," the mechling chirped, putting down the empty cube. Sitting up, he
leaned against the larger mech's warm frame. "What do we do next?"
The big mech rumbled in amusement at his creation's enthusiasm. "Next is
hardline," he calmly unspooled a cable from a compartment in his lower chest.
"It comes in two varieties. Pure energy exchange and memory replay. This is
where interfacing can become dangerous." He locked optics with his creation.
"Failure to maintain your firewalls and anti-viral protocols can result in
processor shutdown, scrambled protocols or even having another take over your
frame."
White armor clamped tight to Wing's frame at that, wings tucking in so tightly
the joints creaked. The little white mech nodded seriously, wide-opticked as he
digested that. "I'll be careful, carrier," he promised.
"Good," Dai Atlas relaxed and reached down to stroke his creation's helm as
gold optics blinked at the cable, then Wing hunted out his own dataport,
opening it. "Remember to use interfacing protocols rather than data or medical
when giving access."
The connection was made smoothly and Dai Atlas pinged for access. It was much
the way Redline did, and the access protocols were similar, but they were far
more restrictive than medical, but not nearly as restrictive as data.
~Good,~ Dai Atlas rumbled between them silently. ~Do you understand why this
can be so dangerous if your defenses are not up to spec?~
Wing chirred softly, cautiously exploring this new connection. ~I understand,
carrier,~ he answered, nodding. Shifting, he leaned against Dai Atlas' torso,
careful not to get anything caught in the cable.
~Good. Would you like to share a memory first, or experience pure energy?~ Dai
Atlas curled a hand around his back, stroking gently.
~Memory first,~ the jetling chirped in reply. His wings twitched against Dai
Atlas' hand. ~If we did the energy first I doubt I'd be coherent enough for the
memory afterward.~
The giant laughed easily, amusement flooding the hardline. ~I'd make sure you
recovered first,~ he promised. ~Now any memory will do, however the more
intense the memory the easier it is to use this way. While interfacing is an
obvious choice than many young mecha use, the real joy of doing a memory
interface is in sharing the purity of other emotions and experiences. They do
not even need to be ones the other mech shares, though that is also helpful.
What kind of memory would you have me share with you? Anything in my life.~
A soft hum escaped Wing as the jetling contemplated that. There was much about
his creator's life that he was curious about, but he was also aware that the
older mech did not like talking about what he had been before becoming a
Knight, and Wing had always respected that. ~Flying,~ he decided finally,
twitching and flaring his own short wings. ~Show me flying, dancing in the
air.~
There was a low, understanding chuckle and then Wing's awareness was of being
Dai Atlas. Young, strong, elated and so very full of his own sense of
invulnerability. At his side flew a purple and silver jet, another giant, and
there was a sense of a deep connection between them as the wind whipped around
them in a fury.
Gold optics widened, short wings flaring and fluttering unnoticed. He could
feel the wind screaming across his control surfaces and fins, as if the storm
was howling outrage that these puny metallic upstarts dared to challenge its
power. Wing's hands tightened on blue armor, completely enthralled by the
shared experience, by the sight of a sky he'd never seen and the strange mech
who meant so much to his creator.
Winds buffeted them, pushing this way and that, and Wing was caught up in just
how much his carrier was thrilled by this. The joy was pure, unhampered by
duty, loss or age. In this moment, Dai Atlas was just as enthralled by
challenging the storm's might as Wing was in witnessing it. The big purple and
silver jet was always at his side, a comfort and support that Dai Atlas didn't
have to think about, worry about. Titanium was simply there, as he had always
been.
As immersed as he was, Wing barely even registered how different their frames
were. Dai Atlas was built heavy and powerful, intended to take a beating and
keep flying. Wing was nearly his polar opposite physically, and yet in this
memory Wing understood fully where his love of experiencing the new, of
challenging limits and of flight came from. It wasn't just frame coding. It was
very much a part of his carrier that time and duty had beaten into submission.
The feel of the winds tearing at his wings and plating made another soft sound
escape Wing, even though he knew the sensations weren't his. Charge was
building, fueled by the sheer unparalleled joy of challenging the storm and the
feel of the wind battering at them, trying to force them to yield. The spark-
deep certainty that he was strong enough, good enough, to fly through this.
A heavy wind sheer slammed down from above, dropping him a thousand lengths
before he powered out of it. The rush of knowing that blast could have slammed
him into the ground, crushing armor and breaking wings was dizzying. Knowing he
beat it was even more. Engines roared at full power, driving him upward to
flash by his mentor and into the very core of the storm where winds came from
every direction, swirling and raging.
Wing keened, caught up in that exhilaration, to feel the storm roaring at him
to submit and his refusal to do so, his creator's determination to conquer the
winds. Winds howled and shrieked, tearing at armor plates and wings and fins,
and the heavy charge in the air tingled along thick plating. White armor
fluffed out as Wing chirred again, his optics flaring nearly white. He was past
thinking, much as his creator had been in the storm. There was only his
powerful frame, his will and the winds.
It was glorious like nothing Wing had experienced. A thrill and the thrall of
so much raw power, the fierceness on both sides. The triumph as the winds began
to calm, caressing armor rather than tearing at it.
The mechling jet was only distantly aware of his carrier's groan of pleasure
until the rush of energy crackled into his frame from where they touched and
the hardline.
Wing keened as charge crackled through his frame, his wings flared out and
twitching, wanting to feel those wild winds failing to subdue him even though
he knew he was not built for that kind of flying. He pressed his cheek against
Dai Atlas' chestplate, clinging to his creator's armor as overload swept
through them both. He'd seen his creators interface, been close enough to feel
the tingle of an overload his frame did not quite recognize as pleasure, even
felt the overload as it crackled through Axe's frame along with his when the
big mech was inside him, but it was never like this. Never before had the
pleasure crackling across another frame heightened his own so clearly.
Both their frames were working hard to push heat from their frames as they
relaxed.
~It was an amazing flight,~ Dai Atlas rumbled as his processors settled back
into thinking mode.
~Indeed,~ Wing replied, a little fuzzily. His wings twitched a couple of times
before sloppily folding to his back again. ~The purple mech with you... Was
that your creator?~
~My mentor. I was sparked for the military in my adult frame,~ Dai Atlas
answered honestly. ~Titanium was assigned to train me to be a command officer.
He became much more over the vorns.~
The little white jet chirred softly. ~He did good.~ Wing snuggled closer,
optics dimming slightly.
~Recharge my creation,~ Dai Atlas smiled. ~Just remember, always unplug first,~
he suited action to instruction.
Wing trilled acknowledgement, crawling fully into Dai Atlas' lap and curling up
there. Fully enveloped in the larger mech's field, the white mech slid into
recharge.
===============================================================================
Dai Atlas was absent when Wing began to rouse next. A confused chirr rose from
the uncurling ball of jet on the berth. He was sure he'd gone into recharge on
his carrier's lap. Lifting his helm, he looked around blearily. His audials
picked up the washrack running before he saw the small billow of steam creeping
into the room from it. Then he heard his creators' murmurs of pleasure.
Creators located, Wing relaxed, his armor settling back into place. Finding one
of the large pillows scattered randomly across the berth, he curled up on it,
content to wait for Dai Atlas to reappear.
"You recovered quickly," the giant commented as he stepped into the room and
noted Wing's optics were on. "Energon?"
"Yes, please," Wing chirruped in response, sitting up. He indulged in a
stretch, fluffing and resettling armor and wings, then shifted closer to his
carrier as Dai Atlas sat down and offered him a cube.
"What are the hazards and precautions of hardline interfacing?" Dai Atlas asked
as he watched Wing refuel.
"Always keep your firewalls and anti-virus programs updated, or the results
could be scrambled protocols, processor shutdown, or hacking. Always give
access through the correct protocols for what you intend to do for the same
reason," Wing replied between gulps. He climbed back into Dai Atlas' lap,
leaning against blue armor while he finished his cube.
"Good," Dai Atlas relaxed, honestly grateful his creation had absorbed the
lesson. "With an energy hardline, the idea is to either pulse enough energy
over the line to push your lover into an overload, or to modulate the frequency
of the pulses to match the sparkpulse of your lover. Most will use a
combination. The first is generally easier, but the second brings a better
overload. However, your spark and systems do not produce enough energy to
overload a mech of my size, so keep that in mind as well. Sometimes the best
answer is to allow a much larger mech to overload you, so they will overload
with the feedback."
Wing hummed, nodding as he put the cube aside, tagging the lesson as important
and shunting it to permanent memory. "Going to take some practice."
"All skills do," Dai Atlas chuckled and stroked his creation's back, content to
sit with Wing in his lap. "Practice is more enjoyable in this than most
skills." He opened the interface port he'd used before, but brushed his fingers
over Wing's panel.
The panel obligingly slid open, exposing the little jet's dataport. Wing leaned
into his carrier's touch, purring contentedly, fiddling with his own hardline
cable. Dai Atlas waited patiently, his field calm and supportive until Wing
managed to plug in. He went through the process to allow him suitable access
slowly so Wing could get used to each step from the other side.
Only when they were fully peripheral to each other did Dai Atlas begin. ~Can
you feel my spark-frequency?~
~I'm not sure,~ Wing admitted after a couple kliks of trying. He was completely
new at this and had a lot to learn. He watched carefully as his carrier
directed him to one part of the data stream that contained his system
information.
~It will always be there,~ Dai Atlas told him. ~There are other ways to tell,
however with a consensual lover you can always check that data point.~
Wing peered at the indicated data point, making note of it. ~I think I get it
now... Finding it, at least.~
~Good. Try to modulate some energy to that frequency and send it to me,~ Dai
Atlas instructed gently, leaning sideways against his mate as Axe settled on
the berth with them.
The white mech chirped a greeting to his sire, then scrunched up his face in
concentration as he tried to do as instructed. He wasn't quite sure he was
doing it properly, but he was trying.
A low moan rewarded his effort with a flare of pleasure through Dai Atlas'
field. ~Yes, that's close. Again.~
Humming softly, Wing gave it another try, trying to modulate the energy closer
to the right frequency. He fumbled a couple of times before managing to send
another energy pulse. Dai Atlas' frame arched sharply with a deep, rumbling
moan. Pleasure and energy washed back into Wing across the hardline and their
fields. Wing jumped, almost pulling out the hardline cable, but his grip on
blue armor kept him from actually falling over backward. He stared wide-eyed at
his carrier, then almost melted from what he was receiving through the
hardline. Apparently he'd gotten the modulation close to the right frequency
that time.
~Yes,~ Dai Atlas shivered slightly with the next burst, then replied with a
perfectly modulated burst of his own, flooding Wing's systems with energy that
matched Wing's spark.
Wing's whole frame stiffened, wings twitching rapidly, a keen escaping his
vocalizer. He managed to push another wave of energy through the connection
before collapsing into a puddle of jet in the bigger mech's lap. The next pulse
made him keen in bliss.
Axe gave a low chuckle and reached in to stroke Wing's back while he turned his
mate's helm for a kiss that sent a sharp thrill through Dai Atlas while they
waited for the mechling to recover his senses enough to continue.
It took a couple kliks for Wing's optics to focus properly again. Sitting up,
he shook his helm to clear his processor, looking up at his carrier.
Experimentally he sent another pulse along the hardline and once more felt the
much larger mech shudder and moan in bliss. Dai Atlas' field flared out,
sharing his pleasure even as he surrendered all the more fully to his mate's
kiss.
White armor rattled as Wing trembled, a mewling sound escaping. His charge was
rising, driven higher by the feedback he was getting. He sent another pulse
through, with a second close behind it and was rewarded by his carrier's frame
arching sharply with a deep moaning shudder of pleasure. Dai Atlas retaliated
in reflex by a heavy pulse of perfectly modulated energy, the quantity kept in
check only by the hardline limits of Wing's frame.
Wing keened, his back arching, fingers clamping down on the edge of a blue
armor plate. Charge arced over and under his plating, curling along the lengths
of his wings and dancing between the tips of his audial fins. He was distantly
aware of the frustrated shuddering moan above him that quickly morphed into
something far more intense, but he was too far gone in his own bliss and loss
of frame awareness to care.
It felt so good. Would others feel this good? He'd always loved the stories of
a true love, what he thought he saw in his creators. Two mecha that adored each
other, strengthened each other even when they fought.
How hard was that to find?
The random questions with no answers flowed through the periphery of Wing's
awareness even as he felt the giant he was laying on roar and the intense
crackle of energy between their plating. A second screaming roar of ecstasy
quickly followed.
Another keen burst from Wing's vocalizer as feedback flooded through the
connection, sending him into a second overload. His grip was almost tight
enough to dent the thick armor plates he was clinging to as he bucked and
twitched against Dai Atlas' frame. Gold optics flared almost white. Then Wing
went completely limp, sliding down his carrier's armor to an unconscious puddle
in his lap.
===============================================================================
It took joors for Wing to so much as twitch. A brief stirring of his wingtips
before he started to move signaled his return to awareness. The little white
mechling's movements were more than a little uncoordinated at first as he
booted back up, lifting his helm to look around. The teek of energy near his
helm got him to turn towards the cube.
"Apparently you overloaded hard," Dai Atlas chuckled. "Drink. We actually have
some talking to do before the next round."
Wing was on the energon cube like a starving cyber-wolf on a wounded robo-deer.
Sitting up, he gulped it down as quickly as he could without clogging his
intake or having his fuel tanks backing up. Once he'd finished the cube, he put
it down, turning his attention to his carrier.
"Talk?" he echoed, flaring his audial fins curiously.
"Yes. Spark play is next." Dai Atlas was serious as he offered a second cube.
"Exposing your spark, even to a mecha you trust, is an act of faith in and of
itself. Trust that they will not harm you when even weak mecha can crush your
chamber with a hand." He paused for that to sink in.
The little jetling accepted the second cube, managing to down this one more
slowly. Hearing that, he was about to ask a question when the last part of Dai
Atlas' statement registered, and white armor clamped tight to his frame.
"At least you have some sense of self-preservation then," Dai Atlas hummed in
approval. "Yes, a spark chamber is that easy to damage. There is also a risk of
kindling with every merge. Spark bonds can form. These are existence-altering
events."
The cube of energon in Wing's hands had been all but forgotten. All his
attention was on his carrier. Wide golden optics were fixed on the much larger
mech, his audial fins flared to make sure he caught every word.
"It is why you should choose who you merge with carefully. I do not advise
holding out for a true love or any such thing, but if you are going to risk
creating a newspark, make sure it is someone you like well enough to raise that
creation with. Creators and siblings are safe because our sparks recognize that
the frequencies are too similar to make for a strong creation. I can't say I've
ever completely understood, but even Redline believes it. It is why your first
merge, likely your first several, will be with close kin. Until you are
reasonably confident that you can keep your wits about you enough to avoid
accidents, it should be among those who are safe."
Wing's optics were still almost perfectly round as he digested this, turning it
over in his processor. Slowly, he nodded, looking up into Dai Atlas' red
optics. "I'll be careful," he promised.
Dai Atlas nodded. "The most important thing to remember is to have it set in
your processors that you do not wish to kindle. You do not wish to bond. It is
extremely difficult for either to happen without some level of consent, even if
it not conscious consent."
"I have no intention of bonding before I'm ready," Wing replied, sidling
closer. "I'll be very careful. I promise."
"Good," Dai Atlas reached out to stroke his back. "Do you still wish to merge
with me now?" he asked gently.
Gulping down the last of his energon and putting the cube aside, Wing nodded
gamely. "I'm ready."
"Then come here," Dai Atlas laid on his berth and patted his broad chest
plates. "It is best to have a small charge going before you attempt a merge."
Nodding, the white mech climbed up onto his creator's chest, purring as he
settled into place. Dark palms lightly kneaded the thick blue armor and giant
white hands slid along Wing's white back panels and wings, teasing, playful,
arousing without the intent to overload.
"Has anyone caught your optic yet?" Dai Atlas asked, rumbling his enjoyment of
the touching.
The purring slowed briefly as Wing processed the question. "Caught my optic for
what?"
"Your first interfacing playmate outside your kin," Dai Atlas rumbled, his
fingers playing along wing surfaces and the strong backstrut of a stunt flier.
Wing arched back and wings into the stroking, purring his enjoyment. "I don't
have my optic on anyone in particular. But I'm sure I'll have my pick of half
the Citadel when word gets out I'm available."
Dai Atlas rumbled in amusement. "Your pick, and no small amount of expectation
that you'll pick them all eventually." He brought a hand around to stroke down
Wing's chest seam. "I'm sure most of the young stunt frames you fly with
outside the Citadel will be looking for your attention too. It's a time of
great fun for most mechlings."
"Sounds like something to look forward to, as well as something to be careful
about." He leaned into the touch on his chest as his chestplates unlocked,
completely trusting his carrier. Under him he felt the larger and much, much
heavier latches on Dai Atlas's armor unlock. The gears and hydraulics began to
move the massive, thick plates out of the way, each of the three layers
weighing as much as Wing did.
Eventually he caught a glimpse of dark red light escaping from deep inside that
frame. He paused, staring at that pulsing, shining red light. That was the
spark that had nurtured him until his own had been mature enough to support
itself, then until the orn he had finally crawled out of the big mech's frame.
His purr increasing in intensity, he let his own chest armor part slightly,
warm gold light showing through the seams.
"You always did take after your sire in so many ways," Dai Atlas murmured, his
harmonics of reverence, a little bit of awe and deep devotion. Giant fingers
stroked along the edge of armor plates, watching as the golden glow brightened
with their parting and how the light played off his white fingers. "Such a
beautiful, bright spark."
"Yours is so warm," Wing purred, leaning down to rub his cheek against his
carrier's chest armor. His own armor pulled fully out of the way, revealing his
bright gold spark, pulsing like a star inside its casing.
"Old and muted," Dai Atlas said without any rancor. "It was once a supernova
with every pulse. Now it warms and guards what I hold dear."
The little jet chirred, nuzzling against the larger mech. The red glow of Dai
Atlas' spark gleamed off his white plating as Wing paused to admire the spark
that had created his, one hand cautiously lifting toward it before hesitating.
"You may," the giant rumbled. "Touching the chamber gently can be very
pleasurable."
Wing nodded, carefully reaching out to very, very gently brush his fingers
against the casing. A chirr of wonder escaped at the warmth of the crystal, the
feel of energy zapping at his fingertips. As threads of red energy followed his
fingertips across the crystal surface, the jetling couldn't help but let out a
soft giggle even as his carrier moaned and arched slightly, pressing into the
touch. With so little between Wing and the dark red spark, Dai Atlas's field
was a powerful force enveloping Wing's circuits on every level. Even his spark
could feel it.
Pleasure. Love. Desire. Age. Loss. Joy. Fierce protectiveness. It all wrapped
around Wing, through him, caressed his spark now that there was so little
between them.
A soft croon answered the moan as Wing stroked his carrier's spark casing. His
field pulsed against the older mech's, conveying all of the love and trust he
felt for his creator. His own spark was flaring and pulsing inside its casing,
a shining network of gold threads probing at all the seams for a way out.
With a soft smile Dai Atlas opened his chamber, offering Wing a chance to touch
another spark for the first time. If Wing's optics widened any further they'd
be in danger of either shattering or popping out. He stared down into his
carrier's chest as threads of glowing deep red brushed against his fingers.
Slowly, very cautiously, he inched his hand forward.
Dai Atlas's vents hitched in pleasure and he moaned softly. "You won't hurt
me," he encouraged. "I won't let anything bad happen."
Wing's wings almost vibrated nervously, but he inched his hand forward again,
brushing his fingertips against the deep red spark's corona. He let out a soft
purring moan as energy ran up along his arm, sending tingles all through his
frame. Under him Dai Atlas shuddered as pleasure flooded his field and Wing
felt a sense of the other creep into his exposed spark.
Optics off, mouth open and vents wide, Dai Atlas struggled to be still and
allow his creation to explore with the reminder that this was for Wing to learn
in safety.
The mechling took in his creator's reaction with curious interest, continuing
to stroke his fingers over the bigger mech's spark's corona. Red energy swirled
around black digits, threads curling around his fingers and over his palm.
Curious, Wing leaned down, the red light reflecting off his plating and optics.
The zap of the first tendrils finding each other dragged a moan of bliss from
them both, as well as a sound of shock from Wing as he felt his creator's
presence directly in his spark for the first time since he'd separated.
Dai Atlas's hands curled against the padding of his berth as he fought to
remain still and let Wing move at his own pace.
The intensity of the connection made Wing tremble from helm to pedes, his armor
rattling softly against Dai Atlas'. More threads reached out from his spark,
stretching down to the deep red one so close to it. It had been so long since
he'd felt this intense connection to his carrier, and some part of Wing's
processor was aware of how much he'd missed it. Slowly, Wing brought his own
spark closer to that great red one.
~Yes,~ Dai Atlas was there, in his spark, just like when Wing relied completely
on the giant for his existence. ~I missed this, even if I miss nothing else of
being a carrier.~
Wing had to chuckle a bit at that. ~I think you were a great carrier, but then,
I was inside your armor and missed seeing you terrorizing the rest of the
Citadel.~
Memories flickered towards Wing of that time, mostly those passed on by Axe.
They were laced with the big mech's humor at watching others try to cope with
an aspect of his mate that he knew well, but the other Knights had never
encountered. Somewhere was the comment that if Dai Atlas was so bent out of
shape with such a small sparkling, what he'd be like if he had one big enough
to really ground him and keep him from sparring.
A memory of Wing's leaked back through the connection, of being cradled in
comforting warmth and complete safety. The jetling purred, shifting to rub his
cheek against his carrier's armor, warm golden optics lifting to meet red.
~Their terror was because I am so protective of you,~ Dai Atlas murmured,
shying away from memories it was linked to, shielding his innocent creation
from some of the truths of his long existence. ~To finally give life instead of
taking it....~
~Worth it even if carrying makes you a Pit demon, hm?~ Love flowed back through
the connection, wrapping around Dai Atlas' spark.
~Yes,~ the word-glyph was warm, full of longing for the feeling of nurturing a
new life, of giving to the universe instead of taking. ~That it was with Axe
was all the sweeter. We tried for nearly three vorns to kindle you. That's a
very long time,~ he murmured, his hands coming up to stroke Wing's back. ~You
were so small, so vulnerable. Even Redline was worried for a while. But you
formed a strong spark and had me build a good frame. Just so tiny.~
Small white wings leaned into the stroking. ~Nothing wrong with being small.
For one thing, it's easier to find furniture to fit me.~ The small mech's grin
was wide and bright. He shifted his position on Dai Atlas' frame, the edge of
his spark's corona brushing against the red spark's. The deeper connection sent
a rush of heat into both their frames.
~Nothing wrong, but unusual with creators as large as we are,~ Dai Atlas said
as he focused on the merge and not sinking into the pleasure too quickly. ~Most
creations will be of similar size to their carrier.~
~I wonder what happened, then, to cause me to be so small,~ Wing mused, though
his choice of glyphs indicated that it didn't worry him too much. He was happy
as he was. Being so small, he was the perfect size to glomp onto his creators
and catch rides on their shoulders, or just latch on and cling.
~Likely the same thing that made it so difficult to kindle in the first place,~
Dai Atlas's thoughts were equally smooth. ~Axe was designed from the chamber
out to never create. Redline did a lot of work to make his systems more normal
and get the protocols to take, but even he could only do so much. You're small
because it was the most energy he could give up.~
Wing chirred softly. ~I'm glad to exist, and I'm glad to be yours.~
~As we are glad to have created you,~ he murmured, Axe's agreement coming over
the bond with his mate to their creation.
The jet purred to both of them, his spark carefully easing closer to Dai
Atlas', their coronas merging slowly. The conversation of word-thoughts over,
Dai Atlas gently guided his creation in the best speed and approach to a merge.
A gradual mingling of energy that became more and more intense as their cores
drew closer. When each core was straining to touch, Dai Atlas closed his hands
on Wing's shoulders to hold him still. The pleasure only took nanokliks from
that point to build until it washed them both away with a sense of unity,
wholeness and peace that was very familiar to the giant and so very new to his
creation.
The sound Wing made was part keen, part moan, and entirely unnoticed by either.
His frame stiffened, joints locking up from the charge that raced along his
sensor net, wings vibrating so rapidly they were making a humming sound as they
twitched back and forth. A moment later he was glad of his carrier's grip on
his shoulders as his frame went completely limp.
Though it was all over with in less than a half klik from the first touch of
coronas to when their sparks pulled back and armor began close. The entire time
Dai Atlas carefully held his creation up, ensuring that the automatic systems
moved smoothly. In time and with experience Wing would reflexively move to make
the processes go smoothly. It didn't always work out that way the first few
times.
The little white jet was completely limp in Dai Atlas' hands. His optics were
on, indicating he was aware, but the glazed look hinted that he was making an
attempt to scrape together some processor power. A moment later he was purring,
though it seemed more automatic than deliberate as he was gently lowered to
rest on now closed black chest plates. This close, they both still felt the
resonance created by the merge and the peace of that merge.
End Notes
     Fandom: Transformers IDW Knights of Light
     Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ
     Pairings: Axe/Dai Atlas, Axe/Wing, Dai Altas/Wing
     Rating: NC-17
     Codes: Tactile, Sticky, PnP, Field, Spark, First Times, Size Kink,
     Safe Sex Talk, Knights of Light, Parent/child Incest
     Summary: 1 new mechling. 2 creators. 3 very long orns. 7 methods of
     interface.
     Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted
     muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the
     inspirations page http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html.
     We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
     Notes: So, right. When you like using 7 of the (at least) 12
     interfacing methods you think Cybertronians use, it makes for a
     bloody long 'first time' event. And we only covered the 7 I like.
     Prompt:
     From http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/
     11776.html?thread=12889600#t12889600
     So. in my brain!canon for this; it is encouraged Nay! expected that
     the person who teaches you interfacing/first lover you take is a
     close family member. Close as in parents, older sibling or maybe aunt
     or uncle. NOT a cousin.
     This practice is for a good reason, mainly because family can't
     reproduce with family. it is literally impossible. the spark codes
     (or CNA whichever) are too similar and simply don't register as
     possible sparking material (hence why no cousins, their codes would
     be too different. Aunt/Uncle is pushing it abit)and this is very good
     coz teen pregnancy is a whole lot riskier for Cybertronians.
     Another reason is because of love and trust. you love your family
     (not necessarily romantic love) and can trust them to make it a good
     first time for you. ideally anyway.
     So. yeah. in summery: write me someone's fluffy first time with
     family member(s?) teaching them what can go where and what does what.
     Preferred interface method is combo sticky(valve & spike)/ spark
     merge
     Go for the Bonus Round!(i will love you forever and ever if you do)
     ~the 'safe interfacing' talk while going at it ie. 'now remember to
     keep your firewalls current and never spark merge with one night
     stands! you don't know where they've been!' sort of thing
     ~threesome with parents
     ^ with added cooing over how grown up they're sparkling is now.
     Oooooh i'm going to the ~special~ hell for this. Anyone want to join
     me? XD
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