Chapter Text
Pre-war Praxus-
The room brimmed with the elite of Praxus, drinking high grade, chatting, socializing. Prowl sat in the corner, slowly nursing his own serving of high grade, watching them. He felt like an outsider here, and for all intents and purposes, he was. The only reason he was even attending this wealthy mech's soirée was out of respect for his uncle's invitation.
His uncle had taken him in at young age, shortly after his creators died in an accident. From the outside no one would know that Prowl was from some very old family money. He worked hard, and paid his own way when he reached adulthood. His uncle would have happily given Prowl anything he wanted, but it was important to him to make a life that was all his own and he loved his job as lead investigator for the law enforcement of Praxus.
"Prowl, you'll never find your bond mate sitting in the corner. You need to circulate!" His uncle said as he walked up with an almost empty container of high grade in hand. By the slightly elongated pronunciation of his words, Prowl surmised his uncle was already quite drunk.
"I'm happy with my life as it is," Prowl replied. "I don't need a bond mate."
"Everyone needs a bond mate! It's part of living life!" His uncle grinned then took a long sip of what was left of his drink.
"Interesting advice coming from a mech who has yet to bond himself," Prowl replied with a half-smile.
"Oh, I've looked. High and low. Looking even now," he said gesturing the room full of mechs. "Just haven't found the one that gives my spark that thrilling flutter, yet. I will, though! And you will, too. But first!" His uncle pulled on Prowl's arm. "First you must circulate! Make your way toward the fountain..." His uncle leaned in close. "The twins, Turbo and Speedster, are over there. Twins... I'm much too old for them, but you're in the perfect age range, my lad."
Not wanting to offend him, Prowl heaved a sigh and got to feet. "I'll say hello, uncle."
Twins were regarded with the high respect and honored members of Praxian society. Desired for their rarity, and coveted as bond mates to create trine bonds. Unfortunately, high regard often translated to money buying them whatever they wanted, and a having mechs constantly dote on them. In Prowl's experience most twins were spoiled, self-centered brats.
Approaching the pair his uncle wanted him to meet, he saw they were twin Praxians, matching colors of blues and silvers. Striking to look at no doubt, but Prowl was never one to succumb to outside appearances. If he were truly looking for someone or ones to share his life with, they also had to give his spark that flutter, just like his uncle was looking for.
"Look, brother, an enforcer to break up the party," one said to the other, elbowing his twin.
Snickering, the other looked Prowl up and down as he came to a stop in front of them. "Perhaps he could cuff us and show us a good time?"
His hope to finally meet a set of twins who were not spoiled slipped away. Heaving a sigh through his intakes, he extended his hand, giving firm shakes to each twin. "My name is Prowl, and my uncle thought it would be nice if I introduced myself."
"I'm Turbo, and this is Speedster. Your uncle, huh?" Turbo smirked.
"Yes. My uncle, Möbius," Prowl replied.
Both twins' optics brightened. "That's your uncle?" They asked in unison. Clearly they were spilt spark twins. Their appearance and their linked speech, indicators of spilt sparking.
"Yes. It was nice to meet you, and now I'll leave you to enjoy the party," Prowl replied.
"Don't go yet," Turbo said, taking hold of Prowl's right arm.
"Yes, we apologize for being so rude," Speedster added as he grasped Prowl's left forearm.
Turbo put on a pouted frown. "As twins, we get hit on so often."
"It's our natural defense to keep unwanted mechs from us," Speedster finished.
He knew full well he was only wanted after revealing his connection to a wealthy relation. He shook his head, extricating himself from their grasps. "I simply wanted to introduce myself. I hope you both have a nice evening."
They both looked disappointed as he pulled away. This was one of many reasons he preferred a solitary life. No complications. It was admittedly lonely, but better than the tangled mess relationships brought with them. Especially with mechs like them, only interested in wealth and nothing else.
...
Pre-war Rodion-
Sideswipe barely waited for the door to their rented room to close before he pinned Sunstreaker to wall, hands groping his plating as their mouths met in a deep kiss.
Submitting to his brother, Sunstreaker felt heat rushing to his interface array. The rough, possessive way his brother behaved after they'd pulled off a con never failed to turn him on.
"You're mine," Sideswipe growled as the kiss broke.
"Always yours," Sunstreaker replied, curling his hands over his brother's shoulders and grinding his hips against him.
Sideswipe wasted no time, interface cover snapping open, revealing his already onlined spike. He leaned forward, pressing close and pushing his spike between Sunstreaker's legs, rubbing it against his closed cover.
"Open up," Sideswipe said.
Sunstreaker let the cover to his own interface array open and Sideswipe grabbed his one leg, hiking it up over his hip. He fingered Sunstreaker's valve, already slicked.
"Wet because of that mech hitting on you?" Sideswipe asked, jealousy lacing his voice as he held Sunstreaker's gaze.
"Wet 'cause you were watching," Sunstreaker replied. "'Cause I knew what would happen when we were alone again."
Sideswipe pressed his face into the crook of Sunstreaker's neck, mouthing the cables, and without warning he rocked his hips upward, impaling Sunstreaker.
Sharply gasping, Sunstreaker felt his whole frame trembling with unrestrained desire for his brother.
No matter how many times they interfaced, a part of him still felt guilt and shame ripple through him. Their whole sparklinghood they'd been told to stop holding hands, stop sharing the same berth, stop touching one another so much. Told repeatedly that their attachment to one another wasn't 'right'. But how could something that wasn't right feel so amazing?
Desire burned in his fuel lines for his brother in a way he never felt for anyone else. An attraction they'd resisted once they reached adulthood but eventually couldn't control.
"Mine," Sideswipe growled, pulling back and slamming his spike deep into his quivering valve.
"Yours," Sunstreaker whimpered.
Fast and hard, Sideswipe's pace was intense, scraping Sunstreaker against the wall. A feral, possessive quality that made him feel like the center of his brother's world.
His fingers tightened their grasp on Sideswipe's plating, his valve hot, slick and trembling as he was pushed toward overloading with unrelenting force. Their lips met again, glossa twinning between open mouths.
Groaning into the kiss, Sunstreaker felt waves of pleasure radiating from between his parted legs. He was so close...
As the kiss broke, Sunstreaker whined with need. "Harder," he said, voice thin and staticky.
With sharp upward thrusts, Sideswipe drove him over the edge. Sunstreaker's mouth gaped as he shuddered with an intense overload. "Sides!" His valve tightened and quivered as rolling waves of pleasure spread through his frame.
Continuing to rock into him with a look of satisfaction, Sideswipe lost all rhythm, his thrusts becoming desperate and needy until he finally reached his own climax, spike exploding inside Sunstreaker as he cried out.
Grasping at one another, they both shivered with the small aftershocks of overload echoing through their frames.
Sunstreaker nuzzled the side of Sideswipe's helm. He felt so much love for his brother it was almost overwhelming sometimes, but he never voiced the feelings that swirled inside his spark.
"We could do that again if you wanted. You know, on the berth," Sideswipe said, chuckling.
Sunstreaker leaned back and looked into his optics. "Sure, but give me a moment to recover."
Untangling themselves, they moved to the berth. Sunstreaker laid back, and Sideswipe flopped over top of him, grinning as he wrapped an arm around his middle.
"How much was on that card we stole?" Sideswipe asked.
"Couple thousand," Sunstreaker replied.
They'd left their home citystate of Kaon, escaping mandatory orders to become 'test subjects' at the central medical facility. According to rumor, no one that entered the facility ever left there again. But in Rodion they couldn't become part of the work force without their IDs being used and that put them at risk for being sent back to Kaon. Rodion was the area between Kaon and Iacon, and the government here reported to both larger citystates.
"I don't like watching mechs hit on you," Sideswipe commented before mouthing Sunstreaker's jawline.
"Works better if I distract them," Sunstreaker replied as he ran a hand down his brother's arm.
They'd developed a system using Sunstreaker's looks to attract a target, and when he had the mark completely focused on him, Sideswipe would steal the card left on the bar to pay for their drinks. It wasn't ideal, but it helped keep them under the radar and their fuel tanks full. When they scored a card with plenty of credits they indulged in renting a room.
"You saying I can't pick up a mark?" Sideswipe asked with a smirk.
Cupping his brother's face, he warmly smiled. "You're more than capable, but I'm yellow and it's harder for me to make off with the cards."
Sideswipe hummed his agreement as he pressed closer, grinding his hips against Sunstreaker. "Ready to go again?"
Sometimes he wondered how his brother had no leftover feelings of shame about what they did. Shoving down his own guilt, Sunstreaker arched into his brother's frame. "Whenever you are."
...
Huffing air from his intakes, Chromedome shook his head at Prowl. "No offense, but I think you work too much."
Prowl didn't look up from his datapad. "I'm lead investigator. That position comes with responsibility and a lot of work."
"But you can delegate work to other officers, you know," Chromedome replied.
His doorwings twitched ever so slightly at the idea of putting his responsibilities on others. "That's not how I prefer to work."
"But all the officers are going down to the bar to hang out. You'd be building rapport with them if you came. Isn't that worth sparing a couple hours for?" Chromedome asked.
Prowl finally looked up. "Point taken, but I really need to finish reading through these reports."
Shaking his head, Chromedome sighed. "Come on, Prowl. Just one hour with us.”
Tapping the edge of his datapad, Prowl frowned. He wavered, not wanting to give in, but knowing Chromedome wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t think it wasn’t important. “One hour.”
“Great! Let’s go!” Chromedome replied.
The bar was only a few blocks away from the station. The officers of his unit were all at a table in the back and waved and shouted their hellos when Prowl and Chromedome walked in. Proceeding to an offered seat, Prowl nodded ‘hello’ back and sat down.
“Wow, Prowl left his office!” Ironhide said, lifting his energon glass. “I say we celebrate this rare occasion!”
Repressing the urge to flick his doorwings in annoyance, he shook his head at them, knowing it wasn’t malicious, but a way of showing camaraderie through teasing.
“Another pitcher of high-grade over here!” Ironhide bellowed to the bartender.
He liked his officers very much, but when it came to socializing, he often felt awkward and out of place. Not too unlike being at his uncle’s parties. He was private and preferred keeping to himself. It was safer that way.
“Did Chromedome get on his knees and beg?” Highgate asked.
“Almost,” Prowl replied with a small smile as Ironhide shoved a glass of high-grade his way.
The group burst out laughing at Prowl’s comment.
“Heeeey!” Chromedome replied.
After a few minutes, the novelty of having Prowl at the table seem to fade, and they all chatted and joked around. He was content to simply sit with them, observing as he slowly sipped at his glass of high-grade.
The conversation ambled through various topics, which provided Prowl with more information about his officers and their personal lives. Chromedome was right, it was good he’d come. It seemed a couple of his officers were having a rough time at home with their respective families. He made a mental note to ease up on giving them the overnight shifts in hopes of helping lighten some of their burden.
The night wrapped up, and they all headed out of the bar, parting ways on the street. Prowl had stayed longer than the hour, but he was glad he did. He considered returning to the station, but decided to simply head home. Chromedome was right about delegating some of the work, but not for the reasons he thought. It occurred to Prowl that it might help boost the egos of those he asked to assist him. He forgot sometimes that other mechs liked to feel important and needed, even in a work setting.
Walking through the quiet streets toward his apartment, Prowl mulled over all he’d heard, but after passing a fourth couple holding hands, he vaguely frowned. Why were there so many partnered pairs out this evening?
He heard the sound of music echoing from a couple streets over, and changed direction, curious to see what was going on. The street opened up into the Crystal Square, which had been transformed with decorations and lights. There were couples everywhere, seated on the benches, walking around. Many held hands, others were cuddling close and kissing. There were various vendors tending carts, selling treats and small gift items while a band played romantic, soft-music in the middle of the square, setting the mood.
“Couple’s night,” Prowl said to himself as he glanced around. It was a festival held twice a year. One he’d read about or seen footage of on the news, but never attended.
He stood in the midst of all the happy couples, suddenly feeling more alone than ever. It was easy to live in denial, bury himself in work and pretend his life was all he wanted. But standing here, seeing so many mechs looking so happy, he couldn’t deny a part of him wished he was one of them.
…
The music in the club was loud this evening. Sunstreaker sat at the bar, fishing for a mark. They still had plenty of credits left from the last mech they’d conned, but it never hurt to bank a little extra. Somewhere on the other side of the mass of mechs on the dance floor was his brother, hiding in plain sight, his gaze undoubtedly locked on Sunstreaker. It was comforting as well as a turn on. While being hit on by random mechs was a nice ego boost, what mattered most to him, what made him feel attractive, was Sideswipe wanting him.
“Well, well, aren’t you a pretty bot…?”
Sunstreaker glanced at the mech who’d sat himself down next to him at the bar. He was an ugly shade of green with light blue accents. “Who me?”
The mech snorted a laugh. “Yeah you. Name’s Galvant. And you are?”
“Fairway,” Sunstreaker replied, giving his alias.
“Pretty name for a beautiful bot.” He then leaned in closer to Sunstreaker. “So tell me, how much?”
“How much?” Sunstreaker repeated back at him narrowing his optics.
“I’ll give you 100 credits to suck me dry behind the building, what do you say?” Galvant asked, learing at Sunstreaker.
“Frag you!” Sunstreaker angrily pushed his stool back and started to stalk away.
“Hey!” Galvant yelled after him over the club’s blaring music, grabbing his arm and yanking him closer. “You think I don’t know what you and your partner are pulling? How about actually earning the credits for once.”
The energon in Sunstreaker’s lines ran cold. How did this mech know? “What the frag are you talking about?”
Galvant stepped into Sunstreaker’s space, face hovering close as he spoke just loud enough for Sunstreaker to hear. “I’m an enforcer for Rodion. Now, you can either give me what I asked for behind the building or I can arrest you and your cohort.”
Clenching his dentia, Sunstreaker reluctantly nodded. “Fine,” he hissed, anger curving his mouth into a frown. He knew Sideswipe would follow them outside, and once it was two against one, it should be easy to turn the tables on him.
They proceeded out the club door, and the officer dragged Sunstreaker down an alley that ran along side the building. With a dark grin, his interface cover snapped back, and he pointed to the ground as he massaged his own spike. “On yer knees, Fairway. Gonna give you a real treat for your troubles.”
Sunstreaker clenched his fists, optics narrowing to slits. He was not scuffing up his finish for this aft. Knowing his brother would be here any second, he smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t suck your spike for a million credits.” Fist flying, Sunstreaker sucker punched Galvant in the face.
“You fragger!” Galvant yelled out, both hands covering his face. “I think you broke my nose!”
Suddenly, Sideswipe jumped down from the roof of the building, using Galvant as a landing pad. “How dare you talk to him like that! He’s not a pleasure bot!” His brother’s fists pummeled the back of the officer’s head.
“You two are going to get locked up for life!” Galvant attempted to roll away from Sideswipe, but his brother sat his full weight down on the officer’s chest, not letting him get away and pounding his fists into his plating, leaving deep dents.
“You sick, Pit-spawned, piece of slag! I should kill you!” Sideswipe shouted.
Concerned they were making too much noise, and aware that attacking an officer, even a corrupt one, was a very bad idea, Sunstreaker grabbed his brother’s one arm. “We gotta go! Now!”
Sideswipe looked up at him with wide, overly bright optics.
“Come on!” Sunstreaker leaned back, pulling hard to get his brother to move.
Seeming to finally realize how much trouble they’d just gotten themselves into, Sideswipe quickly got to his feet, and they took off running down the alleyway.
“You two are gonna regret this!” Galvant yelled after them.
Shots rang out, pinging off the buildings around them.
They both kept running until they reached the road, where they transformed and peeled out. Sunstreaker’s spark was pulsing hard and fast. What had they just done? Beat down an enforcer? They were totally fragged.
His brother unexpectedly decelerated and pulled off the road, transforming. Following him off the roadway, Sunstreaker also transformed.
“We’re barely a kilometer away, we’ve got to keep--” Sunstreaker cut himself off when he saw energon and mech fluid coating his brother’s plating. “Sides!”
“Think one of the shots ricocheted,” Sideswipe replied, crumpling to the ground.
Panic like Sunstreaker had never felt before surged through his spark. He dropped down to his knees beside his brother, trying to locate the injury. “You need medical attention.”
“We can’t go to the medical center. You know that,” Sideswipe replied, hissing in pain.
“I’m not gonna let you die!” Sunstreaker snapped back. He scooped his brother up into his arms and got to his feet. “Isn’t there a clinic near here?”
“Don’t remember,” Sideswipe replied, a shudder rippling through his frame.
There was absolutely no time to waste.
Sunstreaker vaguely remembered seeing a sign for a small clinic around here before, and he quickly walked through the neighborhood, looking everywhere for it.
“Over there,” Sideswipe said, his voice sounding strained as he limply pointed.
Swiveling his head, he saw the decayed, rusted sign that read ‘Ratchet’s clinic’. The place didn’t even look like it was open, but Sunstreaker was desperate. Approaching the door, he frowned. “Is it closed?”
The door whooshed open, and a surprised-looking medic stood on the other side. “Was about to head home for the night.”
“He needs help. Please save him!” Sunstreaker pleaded.
With a dubious look, the medic looked at Sideswipe then frowned as he nodded. “Alright. Come on in.” He stepped back, and Sunstreaker entered. The clinic was mostly dark, and the medic flipped some switches, cycling the lighting on. “Put him down over there.”
Sunstreaker deposited his brother on the medical berth. The fear of losing him rippled through his spark, making it ache, as he looked down at him. Sideswipe’s optics were dim, and his one side was covered in his own fluids.
“Shot?” the medic asked as he shoved Sunstreaker out of the way, and began to make a cursory examination.
“Yeah,” Sunstreaker replied, fear and anger swirling inside his chest. If Sideswipe died, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill that enforcer, squeeze his spark chamber and extinguish it with his bare hands.
“Looks worse than it is.”
The medic was so blasé about his assessment, Sunstreaker gave him a pointed look.
“I’ll patch him up and refill his fluids.” The medic glanced up at Sunstreaker. “Don’t worry, I won’t let your brother die.”
Sunstreaker’s optics brightened with his surprise. He and Sideswipe were fraternal twins, so most mechs didn’t immediately pick up on the fact they were related. “How did you know…?”
“I’m the Chief Medic for the rare conditions ward at the medical center. I just run this place on the side for the mechs who can’t or won’t go to there.”
“So, you’re the Ratchet on the sign?” Sunstreaker asked.
“That would be me,” Ratchet replied. “Now, sit your aft down and let me fix your brother.”
Sunstreaker frowned, but did as he was told, sitting down on a nearby bench seat. He watched from the sideline as Ratchet knocked Sideswipe out with the settings on the medical-grade berth and then set to work. His hands moved quickly and methodically. It was almost mesmerizing to watch. Plating removed, lines clamped, replacement parts changed out, all done with speed and precision. He could see his brother was in very good hands.
“Tell me, how’d he get shot?” Ratchet asked as he cleaned up the splatters of fluids off Sideswipe’s plating. “Booster deal gone wrong?”
Sunstreaker grimaced. “Corrupt enforcer.”
Ratchet looked over at him, frowning. “Oh?”
Gripping the bench, Sunstreaker lowered his gaze to the floor.
“Which enforcer?” Ratchet asked.
Snorting derisively, Sunstreaker shook his head. “Like I’d tell you.”
“Galvant?”
Lifting his gaze, he stared at Ratchet. “You have a mind-reader mod or something?”
Chuckling, Ratchet shook his head. “Nah. Patched that aft up before after he tried to shake down the wrong mechs.” Finished with his brother’s repairs, Ratchet turned his attention to Sunstreaker, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked over and stared down at him. “So what’d Galvant do this time?”
“Threatened to bust us if I didn’t suck his spike,” Sunstreaker replied with a disdainful frown. “I’m not a pleasure mech.”
Ratchet regarded Sunstreaker for a long moment. “Unfortunately, Galvant is connected to the government. Some uncle or something.” He then sighed air from his intakes. “Where’re you two originally from?”
“Kaon.” Sunstreaker hardened his gaze on Ratchet. “And we aren’t going back there.”
“If I were from Kaon, I wouldn’t go back either.” Ratchet half-smiled. “Ever heard of Praxus?”
How had this conversation moved from a corrupt officer to the various citystates and what did one have to do with the other. “Yeah, why?”
“I’ll be right back.” Ratchet stepped out of the room, disappearing into an adjacent one.
“What the frag?” Sunstreaker muttered as he stared at the doorway. Talented medic or not, he seemed to have a circuit or two loose in his processor.
Sunstreaker stood up and moved to his brother’s side, looking over the injured area. The repair itself was very clean, the welds where the plating had been put back were barely noticeable. He gazed at Sideswipe’s offlined face after looking over the injury, feeling so incredibly relieved he’d be okay. Placing his hand on his brother’s arm, he gently petted the plating, while resisting the urge to steal a little kiss.
“I downloaded some information to this datapad for you,” Ratchet said as he reentered the room.
Snapping his arm back to his side, Sunstreaker stiffened at being caught touching his brother.
Ratchet froze, staring at him, looking very confused. “You messing with my repair or something?”
Shaking his head, Sunstreaker frowned. “No.”
“Then what’s with the guilty look on your face?” Ratchet asked.
“It’s nothing,” Sunstreaker replied.
Looking unconvinced, Ratchet suddenly frowned. “Kaon…” His expression then softened. “Must have a been hard place to be raised in being fraternal twins, hm?”
Sunstreaker gave a dismissive shrug.
“You do know it’s normal for you two, right?” Ratchet asked, canting his head.
“What are you talking about?” Sunstreaker asked, brow pinched with his own confusion.
“Being together. Being physical with one another,” Ratchet replied.
He immediately looked away, pinning his gaze on his brother’s hand as heat flared over his faceplates. “It’s not that like that.”
“Fraternal sparks are unique. Even more rare than spilt sparks. You two spent months connected to one another inside your carrier’s spark chamber. That created a bond stronger than any bondmates could ever hope to create.” Ratchet spoke in an almost reverent tone. "It's unique and unfortunately often misunderstood."
Looking back up at Ratchet, Sunstreaker searched his face for any indication he was joking, or not being serious, but he looked very genuine.
They’d been labeled freaks their entire lives. They’d only ever had each other to rely on. Done whatever it took to survive, hiding the deep love they shared from the outside world. “Our creators dumped us off at a group home. They didn’t want us. The caretakers there smacked us or worse for even holding hands when we were sparklings. Now you’re telling me it’s okay. It’s normal?” Sunstreaker’s voice rose, accusatory and angry.
Sadness touched Ratchet’s face. “In Kaon, twins, any twins, are considered bad luck. I know from having cared for abused sets that were smuggled out by sympathetic mechs to the medical center here.”
Sunstreaker shook his head. “You’re full of slag.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” Ratchet cautiously moved closer, holding out the datapad. “Praxus. It’s the only citystate that offers programs to the disadvantaged, including housing. And Praxians revere twins. There you guys would be safe, and treated well.”
Swiping the datapad from Ratchet’s hand, Sunstreaker frowned. “Whatever. Just wake him up so we can go.”
“Honestly, you two are best of staying here for the night.” Ratchet patted the end of the medical berth. “I’m not judging you, so why not crawl onto the berth with him and get some rest.”
Mouth slightly gaped in shock, Sunstreaker watched Ratchet walk toward the front of his clinic, locking down the doors and setting the alarms, which made sneaking out impossible.
“So we can’t leave until you let us?” Sunstreaker asked.
Ratchet wandered toward the adjacent room, pausing at the doorway to glance back at Sunstreaker. “You can leave in the morning. Look, Galvant will have the forces out looking for you. You’re safest here for the moment. I’ll be recharging in my office if you need me.”
Resigning himself to his fate, Sunstreaker frowned as he nodded.
Once Ratchet disappeared into the other room, Sunstreaker set the datapad down on a table and crawled onto the berth, partly draping himself over his brother. He could feel Sideswipe’s plating was extra warm from his autorepair mending the welds over.
He reached over and took Sideswipe’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “This is… normal,” he whispered, trying to convince himself it was true.
The residual guilt he’d learned to live with now mixed with a hot, sharp anger. If they didn’t chose this. If they really did come into this world like this… Then why had they been treated like freaks? Beaten or punished when they were younger for something they had no control over? His understanding of the world had been flipped upside down, and he honestly didn’t know which end was up now. He sort of wished Sideswipe was online so they could talk about it.
Sighing air from his intakes, he dimmed his optics.
Thinking about it all was giving him a processor ache. Hugging himself to his brother, he realized that the only thing that ever made sense to him was how being close to Sideswipe always made him feel complete. Maybe that was all that really mattered? Frag all the afts that hurt them or judged them. He had all he needed right here.
Sunstreaker pressed a kiss to his brother's chin. "Love you," he whispered.