On-His-Knees Breakdown

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A/N: This is a follow-up to Turned-On Breakdown.

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Sometimes when the pressure got too much and his gears ground too tight, Sunstreaker just took off down the road as fast as he could go. Sideswipe always followed him, because there was no telling what he would do out there. Not that Sideswipe made that adequate a minder.

This time, though, Sunstreaker had gotten a two-hour head-start on him. He'd only just gotten out of med-bay, and he'd only gotten out this soon because Red Alert was pitching fits at being in there, too. Red made a great distraction when trying to sneak out from under Ratchet's optics. Still, he had a long way to drive and he had to catch up with Sunny. Sure, he knew exactly where Sunny was (Ratchet had planted tracking devices on them both ages ago), but that didn't do him a lot of good unless the fragger slowed down.

He did stop eventually, off a highway and down some backroads. Sideswipe's headlights flickered. Not the sort of place Sunstreaker would be caught dead in, if he remembered the terrain around there. What on Cybertron could he be up to?

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"You blinded Bluestreaker, you low-priority glitch! I'll tear you to pieces!"

... Oh. Sideswipe cringed a bit as Sunstreaker nearly broke his hand decking Breakdown.

The Stunticon picked himself up off the ground with nary a scratch on his paint or dent on his face. He acted punch-drunk, though; just shook his head until Sunstreaker punched him again. From where he was crouched by the road, Sideswipe could see the paint-wear on his twin's knuckles.

Breakdown pushed himself to his knees and caught Sunstreaker's foot in his chest. He went over backwards, still not a mark on him.

Sideswipe stood up. "Hey, Sunny! Playing a game of Kick the Stunticon without me? I'm hurt!"

Sunstreaker turned his head briefly, smirking. "You were too busy. 'Sides, someone had to catch him. Oh, frag no, you little glitch-!" Sunstreaker turned and tackled Breakdown as he scrambled backwards from the twins. The tackle turned into pinning him and punching him until Sunstreaker's knuckles turned silver.

Sideswipe was only too glad to join him.

Later, when the Stunticon could barely move, Sunstreaker grabbed Sideswipe and pulled him into a kiss. He moaned, metal cold as ice and conductive as copper under Sunstreaker's hands. The Stunticon at their feet became a distant memory as those hands rubbed down his sides and over his hips.

Sunstreaker broke the kiss and rested his nasal ridge against Sideswipe's. Both of them caught the flicker of movement as Breakdown wormed his way out from under them. "Where do you think you're going, glitch?"

The pale Lamborghini flinched. "Motormaster."

Sunstreaker smiled, and Sideswipe found himself taking a step back from his twin. "That's right," said the yellow Lamborghini. "You're Motormaster's little bitch when you aren't messing around with hapless Datsuns."


"Shut up, Sideswipe." He hauled Breakdown up and kissed him, arms wrapping around the pale Lamborghini to bind his own arms in place. As incredibly tough as the Stunticons were, they weren't super-strong.

Breakdown, oddly enough, didn't fight back. He just hung limply, optics steadily dimming.

Sunstreaker broke the kiss and made a face. "You're not supposed to like that."

"Mmm." Breakdown tried to pull him down for another kiss; Sunstreaker dropped him. He sprawled in the dirt, still as spotless as if he'd just rolled off the assembly line.

Sideswipe crouched down next to him and pressed a pair of fingers to his mouth. The Stunticon didn't object to him sticking them in there, and he stroked the interior of Breakdown's mouth. The pale Lamborghini's feet kicked at the ground as he thrashed.

"We could have fun with this," He told Sunstreaker. He repeated the carress to Breakdown's mouth and chuckled. "We could have a lot of fun with this."

"Why would we want to?" Sunstreaker crossed his arms and scowled at the horizon.

"He's a Lamborghini, same as us. It'd be fun. It'd be different. Variety is the spice of life, or so the humans say."

"Hmph." But Sunstreaker turned back to them, looking faintly interested. "All right, Sideswipe. We'll give him a tumble. Then the little glitch is going to walk his way back to the Nemesis because I'm going to rip his tires off!"

Sideswipe blinked as he felt engine-vibrations through his fingers in Breakdown's mouth. "Eh...? Oh. That's just sick. Grievous bodily harm is not arousing."

[According to you. You're not a Decepticon.] The pale Lamborghini radioed in response. [Get this over with.]

"Real enthusiastic there." So saying, he bent down and added his glossa to the parts of him in Breakdown's mouth. The Stunticon tasted like energon and oil, but mostly like him. It was... interesting. The way Breakdown writhed underneath him was far, far more interesting.

When Sunstreaker joined in, and they pressed the pale Lamborghini between the two of them, trading and sometimes sharing occupation of his mouth, feeling the vibrations of his engine through their glossa and his thrashings with the rest of their bodies... Now that was fun.