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Kup chomped on his cy-gar as he walked with Perceptor down the hallways of his team's ship, the Trion.
"Proud of ya today, Percy."
"Thank you, Kup. I believe I can be a more helpful addition to the team like this."
Earlier that day, Perceptor had surprised them all by joining a battle and breaking apart Monstructor with one shot. The scientist now sported a host of upgrades, including a breastplate, an advanced targeting optic, and a whole new attitude that seemed more concerned with winning fights than success in the lab.
Kup was impressed. And concerned. Perceptor was still more valuable as a scientist, and this was clearly a reaction to his recent near-death experience aboard a Decepticon ship.
Although he had initially resented the mandatory addition of Perceptor to his team, Kup had since grown fond of the scientist. Sure Perceptor came off as taciturn and bland, but he was also brave, noble, and considerate. And a fraggin' genius. He just needed to loosen up a little. Maybe get his spike polished.
"We still need you at work in the lab," said Kup. "Don't forget that."
"I have not forgotten. But with the limits on my time, I feel having an assistant would be beneficial to completing projects."
"An assistant, huh? I'll see what I can do."
They passed Drift in the corridor. His serious expression softened a little when he saw Perceptor. "Looks like you're already starting to pay back your debt. Not many people could take out Monstructor."
Perceptor graciously inclined his head and responded with a polite but distant, "Thank you, Drift."
Anyone else wouldn't have noticed it, but Kup had spent the last few months in close proximity to the scientist. He heard the minute hitch in Perceptor's voice, saw the light energon blush barely color his cheeks.
Hmmmm, thought Kup. Lotsa brains, no confidence. Maybe what the kid needs is justa little more action…..
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//Kup to Perceptor. Report to my quarters. Got somethin' I wanna show ya.//
After receiving the request via internal communications, Perceptor took the most direct route to Kup's quarters. The Trion was docked at a spaceport for a few days for refueling and a much needed break. The outpost was seedy, as evidenced by the fact that they had let a group of Cybertronians park there without so much as a warning to not make any trouble.
Yet the shabbiness of the space station wasn't the reason that Perceptor hadn't left the ship, despite Kup's encouragement. There was simply too much work to do. He had upgrades to adjust, designs to implement, and, of course, the ever-present task of trying not to make a fool of himself in front of the new guy. The disturbingly beautiful ex-Decepticon who had saved his life, Drift.
All that didn't even include carrying out his true orders, monitoring Kup. In and of itself a full-time job. The bot was a handful.
As he walked, Perceptor ruminated on his recent assignment to Kup. An assignment for which he still had serious misgivings. It felt so unethical. The Pretender process. Bringing Kup back only to lie to him and use him as a pawn. Prowl had made some good points regarding Kup's resurrection, but at what cost? Did the ends really justify the means, if the means seemed a violation of the personal freedoms that the Autobots fought for?
He was so lost in his thoughts that he buzzed himself into Kup's quarters without lifting his eyes from the floor.
"You wanted to see me, Commanderrrhgzgzg10010…" The words died in Perceptor's vocalizer, disintegrating into a jumble of shocked static.
Stretched out on the berth before him lay Kup. His interface panel was open, thick spike displayed for the entire world to see. Four green aliens with six arms each hovered over him. They played with his spike as they giggled and chittered to each other in a foreign tongue, one that Perceptor apparently didn't have loaded into his linguistic database.
Attempting to handle the situation with as much dignity as possible, Perceptor booted up his vocal protocols and stammered, "Oh, my apologies, Kup. I…I'll come back later."
"Don't you dare go anywhere. I called you in fer this." Kup indicated to his open interface panel, showing no signs of shame. "Ever had yer spike worked over good? I mean, real good?"
Perceptor just stood there gaping. He had no idea how to answer such a question. Prowl had not instructed him on eventualities such as this.
"Girls, why don'tcha take care of my friend here. He needs to learn how to relax." He pointed to his spike, and then pointed to Perceptor with a smile.
The aliens clearly understood. Three of them rose and approached Perceptor. They could be considered pretty, if one were into organics. With emerald skin and long, flowing black hair. They were also quite large. The tallest one almost reached Perceptor's chest.
"Really, Kup…I don't think…I can't...this is highly inappropriate." Perceptor started to step away.
"Ah, just let 'em work their magic. This is just harmless stress relief, and you need it, kid. Girls, rub between his legs and it'll pop right out." Kup rubbed imaginary circles over his own array. "That's the ticket."
Perceptor's back hit the wall. Nowhere else to go. The aliens descended upon him, rubbing and stroking at the panel between his legs while he politely tried to fend them off. It was a fruitless task. Two arms against eighteen. Their nimble hands felt warm and charged, and Perceptor noted with alarm that his frame was heating up.
"No…really…this is…I…"
"Females," said Kup in a mock conspiratorial tone, as if Perceptor didn't understand the concept of gender. "All valve, no spike. Pretty wild." He gave a thumbs up as one of the aliens continued to massage him.
Agile fingers dipped into the sensitive wiring near his hip, sending a sharp wave of sensation throughout his core and making his fuel pump stutter. Perceptor was utterly mortified when his interface systems sent an automatic command to open his panel. The aliens squealed with delight when his spike pressurized right in front of them.
His embarrassment was short-lived as a multitude of hands started squeezing and fondling him. They gripped hard, titillating his sensors with delicious data driven straight to his processor. There was warmth, firm flesh sliding over his eager spike, and a heady pressure that felt good. Really good. Perceptor couldn't even easily access the memory files of his last hand job, it had been so long.
One of the girls cupped his cheek, her face splitting into an evil grin. She then unfurled a ten-inch tongue and licked across the scope on his shoulder.
Perceptor couldn't help it. It had been forever, and all the talented hands were bringing him to some blissful peak hard and fast. He moaned outright, feeling the first tendrils of utter satisfaction build within him.
"There ya go," said Kup. "Relax and enjoy it. You'll thank me later."
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The next week found Kup's team battling Decepticons on Paracelsus, a small planet inhabited by strange gaseous beings known as the Avogadrians. The Decepticons had captured the Avogadrian royal family and placed them in some sort of giant flask, attached to which was a very ominous looking gun.
The fight had started out promising enough, but Kup's team was soon outnumbered and forced to scatter, leaving only Kup, Perceptor, and Drift in the main control room with the Decepticons.
"We have to stop them," yelled Perceptor over the gunfire. "If that machine stays active for much longer the entities inside will turn into superheated gas, creating a devastating plasma weapon."
Kup jumped up from his hiding spot to shoot another Decepticon. "Our guns ain't damagin' it. Can you turn it off?"
"I can try."
"Follow me then!" Kup motioned to Perceptor and Drift, and took off towards the machine, ducking and rolling and shooting enemies with all the vigor of a mere four million year old. Drift was right on their commander's heels, wielding his sword with a preternatural grace as he cut a swath through the Decepticons.
When they reached the machine, Perceptor could see the entities inside. Simple blobs of smoke crying for help. His fingers raced over the controls while his mind spun with calculations. A shot passed inches from his head and ricocheted off the flask.
"Frag it all," said Kup as he laid down more cover fire.
Drift risked a glance over Perceptor's shoulder. "Whoa. Tell me you understand all that."
"Indeed," said Perceptor. "If pV = nRT, then the Decepticon scientists should have known that [Pobs + a(n/V)2] x (V – nb) = nRT, yet I see they did not take this into account." He allowed himself a small laugh as laser bullets continued to whiz by him. "The craftsmanship of this device is actually quite shoddy. I wonder who constructed it. Surely not Shockwave."
"This ain't the time for a science lesson. Just turn the damn thing off!"
Perceptor entered the equations necessary to disrupt the device. There was a loud hiss as the flask separated from the gun. In the corner of his vision, he noticed a red dot appear on Drift's shoulder.
A sniper beam. Perceptor whirled around, one foot planted while he smoothly unhooked the rifle from his shoulder, took aim, and shot the enemy sniper right between the optics. He then spun around again and entered the final command to power down the plasma weapon.
The gaseous aliens escaped from the flask as formless, curling trails of mist. Yet Perceptor didn't even marvel at the unique and bizarre life forms. He only noticed Drift's admiring expression as he put a hand on Perceptor's shoulder and said, "Nice moves."
After the battle was over, Perceptor walked through the caverns of the Great Gaseous Empire looking for Kup. The rest of the team was back on the ship, but Kup was still wrapping things up with the Avogadrians. Kup hated diplomacy, so "wrappin' things up" usually didn't take this long.
Perceptor finally found their leader reclining on a slab in a large, bare room. His head was tipped back, one hand clutching at the seat beneath him.
"Ummm…Kup, are you ready to depart? I fear Roadbuster is growing impatient."
"Ah, Percy. C'mere a second."
As he walked closer, Perceptor realized that Kup's lower half was covered in a thin smoke. It shimmered and twisted around his body, seeming thicker right over his….oh.
"Here's yer real savior," said Kup. He addressed the gaseous entities wriggling into his interface hatch like he was delivering a report about energon levels in their ship. Like it was the most normal, routine thing in the universe. "Why don'tcha show him a little of this gratitude too?"
"Oh no no," said Perceptor. He took a few steps back as the shifting clouds started moving towards him. "Really. That won't be necessary."
"Shapeless," said Kup around his cy-gar. "You don't even hafta open yer interface panel. They'll just sneak up in there and stimulate parts of yer valve that you didn't even know existed."
"Thank you, but really, I'm fine. Kup, I don't think this is….ooohhh"
Perceptor fell to his knees with a moan as a zing of white-hot intensity raced from the deepest part of his valve. The nebulous pressure inside his body made his servos feel weak. He tried to protest, but all that came out was a needy whimper. It had been a very, very long time since something had stimulated those nodes.
Kup put his arms behind his head and laughed. "That's the spirit, lad. Just go with it. Trust me. You'll thank me later."
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"Kup, I do not understand the reason for this layover. The ship is fully stocked, and I cannot make my report to Prowl until we leave this planet. The ionic disturbance in the atmosphere is disruptive to our long-range communications."
"Prowl'll survive without his reports for a few hours. Turn here."
They were on Tentillium, a popular "pit stop" planet for a variety of species. A place to refuel, eat, and be entertained in over 2,000 different languages. Some of the visiting aliens were so large, certain parts of the main city were sized accordingly.
Perceptor followed his commanding officer down one of the huge alleyways. They had come to this part of town hoping to get information on a group of Decepticons they were following. At least that's what Kup had told him. Looking at the dilapidated buildings and blinking red neon signs, Perceptor wasn't so sure.
"Kup, what is a 'massage parlor'?"
"It's a place like this. Come on."
Kup opened a nondescript door, and led them into a lobby that stank of seawater and curdled engex. The wallpaper looked like it had been up since Megatron was a miner. A gray alien with four rows of teeth leered at them from behind a counter.
"Kup," she said with a toothy smile.
"Matilda," said Kup.
He ushered Perceptor up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. They passed door after door. Strange moaning sounds came from within every room.
Apprehension seeped through Perceptor's every circuit. "Why are we-"
"Shaddup," said Kup. He stopped in front of a door marked "Room 113" and whirled to face Perceptor. He grabbed the scientist by the shoulders, looking as grave and serious as Perceptor had ever seen.
"What's going on?" Perceptor tried to extricate himself from Kup's grasp to no avail. Primus, that bot was strong.
"Percy," said Kup, optics wide. "This is very important."
"Yes. Okay. What?"
"You ever had a simultaneous spike and valve overload? Ever come hard from both yer parts, at the same time?"
"Wha-what!?!" Perceptor synthesized a nervous little laugh. "Kup, that's a myth. The Cybertronian body is not designed to function that way."
"And you call yerself a scientist."
Kup threw open the door in front of them, revealing a bedroom whose walls were upholstered in a frightening purple velour fabric. On the bed was a massive…creature. It looked like a large, out of water sea squid, with a snapping radula and hundreds of waving tentacles. The creature was purple, matching the color of the walls. Each of its many tentacles sported a pink sheen that seemed to glow in the dark.
As they entered, the creature waved its tentacles and squawked in one of the outer marine languages. Perceptor's translation software recognized the words as something close to "Kup, you salty old perv!".
Perceptor had never seen anything like it. The scientist in him was fascinated. Every other part of him was deeply afraid.
"Them tentacles," said Kup, "are covered in an electro-conductive fluid. Feels real good."
"This is…you don't…I…"
"It's male," said Kup. Then he scratched his head. "I think. Not really sure. Don't matter. Have fun, kid."
Perceptor waved his arms in front of his body defensively as he shook his head. "No. Oh no…."
"Oh yes!" said Kup. And with a hearty slap on the back, he sent Perceptor stumbling forward into the waiting tentacles.
The last thing Perceptor heard, before succumbing to a sea of unimaginable pleasure, was Kup's voice, punctuated with grizzled amusement.
"Now I paid fer an hour, so take yer time!"
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"And that was the first time I won the Ibex Cup."
Perceptor sat in the Trion’s lounge, listening to Blurr boast about his racing days. He tried to keep his focus on the datapad in front of him, but it was hard to ignore the way Blurr sashayed about the room.
Something twisted inside Perceptor as he watched Blurr lean in towards Drift. It was an equation that made sense. Blurr was beautiful, Drift was beautiful. Why shouldn't they become the ultimate frag team? To think that Drift would possibly be interested in anyone else was a ridiculous fantasy.
Yet Perceptor couldn't help but notice that Drift's smile seemed forced. And every time Blurr slithered closer, Drift moved a little further away.
"I just like to move fast. I get the feeling that you do too." Blurr practically draped himself over Drift, fixing the white mech with a look so smoldering and confident, it could have melted ununtrium.
Perceptor's systems almost crashed when Drift's optics locked with his own. It was surely his imagination, but he felt an almost secret sizzle pass between them. Don't, he warned himself. Do not get involved. He is not interested. He never will be. Stop doing this to yourself.
At that moment, in typical unannounced style, Kup burst through the door. "All right, ya minibots. Enough lazin' around."
"Is there something you need, Kup?" said Perceptor, grateful for the interruption.
"Yeah. We need to get some manual slag done around here. And you need to get back in the fraggin' lab. You still workin' on that quantum jump modifier?"
"Yes."
"You still want an assistant?"
"Yes."
"Drift, yer with Percy. Help him in the lab and just do what he says."
"Okay, Kup." Drift hurried to get up and move to Perceptor. He smiled. Nothing flirty or winning, just a genuine, simple smile.
Perceptor didn't trust himself to smile back. Hopefully he could work on the quantum jump modifier in this state. If Drift was going to look at him like that, it was going to be hard to even remember his own name.
"You.” Kup tossed a large rivet gun at Blurr. “Rivet duty."
"Rivet duty!?!"
"Yeah. Outside of the ship's a little fragged from the last fight. Port side. Shouldn't take ya more than a few hours. Oh, and use the safety precautions."
Blurr shook his head, and emitted a sharp, sarcastic snicker. The kind of condescending sound you hurl at someone when they obviously just don't get it. "Kup, I have really specific specialties. I mean…come on." His voice raced faster and faster. "Ican'tbeinjureddoingmenialwork. DoyouknowwhoIam?"
Perceptor put down his datapad. This was certain to be interesting.
Kup stalked towards Blurr, until they were inches apart. "Yeah, I know. Yer the guy who's on rivet duty. If yer not the guy who's on rivet duty, then yer the guy who's eatin' my fist for a snack."
Blurr pouted but backed down. "Yeah, fine. Whatever." He shouldered the gun and sauntered out of the room, his body language somehow screaming "but only because I want to".
"You two." Kup pointed to Perceptor and Drift. "Get to work."
"Well, then,” said Perceptor. "Shall we?"
As they walked to the lab, Perceptor received a private comm from Kup.
//There ya go. Don't say I never gave ya nothin'.//
//I'm not so sure about this.// Perceptor answered back.
//Mech up and have a little confidence. Just be yerself. Oh, and remember everything you've learned.//
//Everything I've learned?//
//About Cybertronian anatomy. Trust me. You'll thank me later.//
And later, Perceptor did thank him. Profusely.
The End