[No 1 Crush] Let It Flow 01

Part One – The Discovery

The idle stirrings of pleasure while in the middle of a shift were nothing new. Sideswipe had learned to ignore them. If Ratchet and Sunny wanted to canoodle while he was stuck staring at the monitors, all the better. That just meant they owed him one – or several if his shivering spark was any indication – by the time he got off-shift.

Sideswipe’s backstrut tingled. He fought off a wave of heat and stared harder at the monitor. He wondered what on Earth Ratchet was doing to Sunstreaker to make him so darned aroused. Fisting him again, perhaps? Though Ratchet usually didn’t indulge in that in the middle of a work day.

A blow job? Ratchet was pretty good at that. Or were they experimenting with bondage again? Sunstreaker did look gorgeous all trussed up and desperate.

Sideswipe grinned to himself. He wished they weren’t playing just so he could open up the bond and poke his twin to see what was going on. But he knew once he tapped into the bond, the floodgates would open, and he wouldn’t be able to help himself.

One time overloading in public to the unamused gimlet optic of Red Alert was enough for Sideswipe. He refused to overload on shift again.

Sideswipe leaned on an elbow and stared harder at the monitor. He needed to focus. He needed to pay attention. He needed to–


He startled and nearly fell out of his chair. He scrambled at the table to keep himself upright, chair legs screeching across the floor.

Trailbreaker snickered behind him. “Fall asleep again, Sides?”

“No!” he said, indignantly. He snuck a glance at Ironhide who gave him a long look of disapproval. “I swear!”


He cringed and tapped at his comm. “Sorry. Yon Hatchet calls,” he said, by way of apology.

Sideswipe righted himself in his chair, planted his gaze on the monitor, and accepted the surly shout blasting across his comms.

“Yes, dear?”

“I am trying to rewire a very complicated leg assembly,” Ratchet hissed, and wow did he sound irate. “Will you cease self-servicing in the middle of the day. Again.”

Sideswipe cycled his optics. “What?” He looked over each shoulder, at the amused faces of his fellow shift-mates, and returned his attention to the monitor. “Ratchet, I’m on duty right now. Remember?



If it’s not you,” Ratchet said with an audible grump. “Then why do my circuits feel like they are ablaze? Is this another game?”

No! I would have told you if it was. Cross my spark!”

Sideswipe cycled a ventilation and rubbed at his forehead. It wasn’t him. And it wasn’t Ratchet. Which meant…

He knew the moment Ratchet had drawn the same conclusion because the medic drew in a sharp ventilation. Sideswipe’s array pinged him desire as his processor supplied images.

Sunstreaker. Self-servicing. Oh, but what a rare treat. And he was missing it for monitor duty of all things.

Sideswipe groaned and banged his head against the table. Sunstreaker could be a show-off when he was in the right mood, but try to get him to self-service for show, and he blushed and trembled like a virgin. It was utterly adorable and so fragging hot.

What in Primus’ name is he doing?” Ratchet demanded with a low growl Sideswipe knew all too well.

That was Ratchet’s ‘I’m aroused, and I’m not supposed to be and as usual, I blame Sideswipe’ growl. Except this time, he should be blaming Sunstreaker.

I don’t know,” Sideswipe replied. “How’s about I ping him and ask?”

You do that. I need to concentrate here!” Ratchet huffed, and the comm went silent.

Concentrate, huh? Somehow, Sideswipe doubted either of them were going to be doing any kind of concentrating anytime soon. Not with such a delicious image in the back of their processors. What was Sunstreaker doing? Stroking his spike? Using one of their toys in his valve? Both?


Sideswipe licked his lips, braced himself, and pinged his brother’s comm. “Hey, Sunny? Whatcha doing?”


And that, dear friends, was a Sunstreaker snarl. It was so fast, so violent, that Sideswipe’s internal comm rattled.

It was also a lie.

Sideswipe shifted his weight, telling his spike to heel. “Then care to tell me why I’m feeling all kinds of excited over here on monitor duty?”

Because you’re an interfacing addict,” Sunstreaker snapped. “Now leave me alone. I’m busy.

Wow. Going for the big guns there, bro.

Sideswipe rapped his fingers on the table. “Or, and I’m just spitting in the wind here, or it’s cause you just overloaded, and I felt it and Ratchet felt it, and you know, bro, we’re just wondering. Whatcha doing and can we join?”

I’m not doing anything. Frag off!”

The comm went silent, leaving Sideswipe to blink at his monitor in surprise. Well, that was, hmm, not a first, but highly unusual. In fact, the last time he’d acted like this, Sunstreaker had been hiding that he wanted to try something new with Ratchet and didn’t know how to bring it up.

Sideswipe sighed and decided to leave well enough alone. For now. At least until he was off-shift. Then he could do some research, figure out what had Sunstreaker’s gears in a knot. In fact, he was going to recruit Ratchet’s assistance this go round.

Sideswipe’s spinal strut itched. He blinked and registered the looming presence on his lefthand side. Planting a smile on his face, Sideswipe looked up into an infamous Ironhide glower.

“Something wrong?” Sideswipe chirped.

“Flirt on your own time,” the old warrior growled and leaned a bit closer, looming without trying. “There’re worse punishments, Sideswipe.”

He wilted. “That there are.” His smile faltered, and he turned back toward the monitor. “Which is why I’m going to be paying close, close attention to this screen.”

“Good. Cause I’m watchin’ ya.”

Of course he was.

Sideswipe ducked his head, sagged his shoulders, and pretended to be fully interested in the endless cycle of surveillance cameras. Sir, yes, sir. Paying attention, sir.

And not, for instance, crafting a quick message to Ratchet. There was a mystery afoot, and Sideswipe intended to solve it.

Because every time Sunstreaker got one of these ideas in that fool head of his, it was a guaranteed good time for Ratchet and Sideswipe, too.




Sideswipe didn’t bring up the conversation to Sunstreaker, and told Ratchet not to either. They both pretended that nothing had happened. They let Sunstreaker be.

Well, not entirely.

There was one certain way to catch a Sunstreaker. One only needed the proper bait. A nice deep-clean, paint strip, repaint and wax was perfect. Wave said opportunity under Sunstreaker’s nasal ridge, and he’d follow you wherever you wanted him to go. Even if you weren’t so good at laying down a sly invitation.

Ratchet was not good at subtle or sly.

But he did manage to get Sunstreaker out of their shared quarters without arousing any suspicions on Sunstreaker’s part. Then again, Sunny could be pretty dense sometimes.

With both of them gone, Sideswipe was free to snoop. Privacy was just not a thing between twins, but more than that, he knew Sunstreaker. Sunny would keep hiding whatever this was forever and ever, hoping the whole time Sideswipe would find out on his own and make him confront it.

Sunstreaker was the definition of “pretend it doesn’t hurt until someone proves it does.”

It was the same with the fisting and the sounding and the double-penetration. And they’d all had a good time in the end, right?


So. Snooping.

Sideswipe poked around Sunstreaker’s datapad collection, only browsing the ones that looked to be recently activated. None of them produced anything of note, however. Which wasn’t surprising. Sunstreaker really wasn’t the sort to self-service to some kind of visual aid. But he’d had to be fantasizing about something, and not just the usual ones either. He wouldn’t have acted so offended if he was just imagining Sideswipe swallowing him or Ratchet sounding him again.

Sideswipe’s gaze landed on the computer workstation he and Sunstreaker shared. It was different than Ratchet’s, which was on a more secure network and contained stuff he and Sunny weren’t allowed to access.

No. Sunstreaker wasn’t the sort to watch or read erotica. But he was the kind to do research.

Sideswipe grinned and threw himself into the rolling chair. It sent him feet away from the console and he had to drag himself back by his feet. He quickly logged into the system using Sunstreaker’s pass codes and brought up the browser.

Sunstreaker was smart. He’d closed all of the windows and tabs, perhaps trying to hide his research in a hurry.

But he wasn’t smart enough. Because when Sideswipe checked, Sunstreaker hadn’t cleared the browser history. Recently closed tabs still listed about twelve websites. Which meant not only could Sideswipe view those, but also anything previously viewed on those tabs.

He shook his head. You’d think after all these decades of watching the master, Sunny would have learned a trick or two. Poor amateur.

Sideswipe started to skim. Most of it was boring stuff, artistic research and the like. There was a lot of information about perspective and shading and blah, blah, blah. Sideswipe understood some of it, but for the rest, the context was lost on him. And he was pretty sure this wasn’t the stuff that had affected Sunstreaker.

But then one of the tabs opened to a pornsite. A human pornsite at that. This was one Sideswipe had never visited. He’d seen the advertisements for it popping up on some other vids when he’d gone looking for ideas online, but he hadn’t managed to wander this direction yet. Which was odd enough. Sunstreaker didn’t usually go looking at human porn. He proclaimed to find it disgusting.

Sideswipe’s optics widened.

Sunstreaker hadn’t just been browsing. He’d come here with some specific search terms. He’d typed in at least three the browser had saved, one of which was unfamiliar to Sideswipe, and the other two he thought he knew, and hoped he didn’t.



‘Golden shower.’

Clicking on the highest rated video for the search terms confirmed Sideswipe’s suspicions. He exited out of the tab just as quickly, spark pounding in his chestplate.

That was… not what he expected.

He’d heard of this kink before. He’d seen it in passing. The very idea of it had not interested him, so Sideswipe had never given it a second thought. It was the last kink he’d ever expect his cleanliness-obsessed brother to develop an interest in.

Wasteplay was, well, Sideswipe admitted he’d try anything once, but it was just so… dirty. Sunstreaker hated to be dirty. He hated all things unclean. Why would Sunstreaker want something like this? And which part?

Sideswipe chewed on his lower lip and braced himself. He dove back into the fray, clicking on a few videos whose links indicated they’d been viewed before. Though that didn’t help him figure out which one Sunstreaker liked the most.

Did he want someone to eliminate waste on him? In him? In front of him? Did he want to do it to someone else?

Sideswipe cringed. Every video was different. In fact, the only defining characteristic was that they contained the same kink. How it was enacted was a different matter. He couldn’t even claim ‘enjoyed’ because frag, that one female right there did not look like she was participating willingly.

Sideswipe’s comm pinged.

Well?” Ratchet demanded.

I found something,” Sideswipe replied and did Sunstreaker a favor – he cleared the browser history. No need for Teletraan to store this. “I’ll tell ya later though. How’s Sunny?”

Ratchet sent a soft chuckle through. “I’ll send you the pics.”

Sideswipe smiled despite himself. If Ratchet was taking pictures, then Sunstreaker was being adorable and charming, and Sideswipe couldn’t wait to see.

He and Ratchet would have a talk later, perhaps when Sunstreaker recharged or was on shift.

This definitely warranted a discussion or two.



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