Chapter Text
If he wasn’t dealing with Optimus’ accident getting Dreadwing sparked up, it was working with the surly ex-decepticon medic and his conjunx. A case of too many chefs in the kitchen. When every mech’s maintenance check was coming up, he wrangled the younger mechs up first. Bumblebee and Smokescreen came as a package deal, ‘Bee reassuring the speedster that he would be finished in time to go racing with Knock Out as Breakdown supervised. Next up was Arcee, quick, easy and painless. Bulkhead was a bit nervous but other than needing to reoil his knee joints and pull out a few old dents on his back plating, he got a clean bill of health. Through the miracle of Primus, he was able to arrange a time to meet up with Wheeljack to update his firewalls and to make some amends to their brittle relationship. The last mechs to come in for their check ups were Optimus and Dreadwing, the carrying seeker made sure that Optimus didn’t dismiss any aches he was feeling, and in turn Optimus brought up the pinch in his side from the triplets shifting around his gestation chamber. Ratchet recommended some gentle stretches and instructed that they not interface in the wash racks or anywhere that wasn’t the berth. With flushed faceplates, they returned to their habsuite.
Now just wait for the lieutenant to show up for his appointment that he made…
By the time that five klicks had passed, Ratchet reached out with a comm. Usually Ultra Magnus was early, waiting for the mech before him to leave but he was late, however, he also requested that he be last for his check in. Ratchet was concerned but ultimately it would do that mech some good to loosen up from time to time, so he took some of the free time to clean up his workspace and restock the supplies he had used up.
Five klicks turned to ten and now Ratchet was worried, he hadn’t gotten a comm back from earlier and he wasn’t responding to the ping he sent out. He walked up to the console and checked his location to see if Ultra Magnus was out patrolling to dispel any anxious energy he refused to acknowledge by throwing himself into over work. His current location showed that he had been at one spot all day.
Where the hell was he and what was so important that he missed the appointment he requested he set up?
His moans echoed in the cave as Predaking bottomed out within him, each thrust that pressed his girthy spike against the cluster of hypersensitive nodes around the aperture of his gestational chamber, silenced the nagging reminder that he was late for his scheduled maintenance check. Predaking was a much bigger mech than Ultra Magnus, his spikes were easily thicker and longer than anything he had ever taken in his functioning. This was one of the many times when he broken his own protocol and met up with the predacon before training and patrol. Before anybot was up in the morning was the only time he could meet up with Predaking.
His mate.
Predaking growled as his hips snapped to meet the enforcer underneath him, his ovipositor leaking with the anticipation of a possibility he couldn’t have yet.
Soon.
He stayed in his cybertronian form so he wouldn’t completely warp Magnus’ abdomen, he still needed to show up for patrol after all. His spike still distended the lower portion of his stomach with each thrust.
His courtship with the autobot was done in secret. Between the betrayal he witnessed in Megatron after he confronted him and lost, and the complete eradication of his predacon brethren, he was inclined to make the most of the loss of his kin by courting the one mech who he saw as his equal. Ultra Magnus was a strong and duty-bound mech, although apprehensive about meeting secretly, he was relatively open to the courtship after being convinced that since he was directly the cause of his kind being eradicated, he should take part in helping rebuild predacon kind. There was just one problem.
Megatron.
If that damn silver bastard hadn’t been around, Ultra Magnus would have already been gravid with his offspring. Several large predacon eggs stretching his thin waist to its limit, maybe even surrounded by a few younglings waiting to drink from his reserve pouches as he nursed one on each teat. The thought drove him to fold the autobot under him in half, drilling deeper and deeper past every overload he fucked him through as he repeatedly battered against his gestation seal. Ultra Magnus couldn’t count how many time he overloaded, he just knew that at some point he felt the swell of the predacon’s knot inflating as the micro transformations within his chassis readjusted to move latching magnets to lock his mate in place. His forge was pumped full of predacon CNA until the outer walls of his abdomen distended, his plating would be warped after this. He groaned as a prolonged overload electrified him from helm to pede, buzzing straight through Predaking as they were fastened to one another. Ultra Magnus’ voice sounded like nothing but raw static and electric fuzz while his frame worked to accommodate the sheer volume of predacon CNA that it was being filled with. Predaking roared in kind as primal coding activated, one spike pulsing spurt after spurt while he remained locked to his mate, the other spike freely drooling on the swollen bulging silver stomach plates. His hips continued to jitter as he reached a clawed hand down to roughly jerk the top spike, growling as he felt the slugs being pushed out and landing wetly before sliding onto the ground on either side of Ultra Magnus.
“My mate…” he growled, licking a wet stripe along his neck cabling as he cradled his mech in his arms. “My Mate.” He toyed a section of tender cabling between jagged dentae, further claiming him and marking him, as if he wasn’t already spike drunk and blathering nonsense, his EMF radiating unrestrained satisfaction from the frag, and oh-so willing to carry his clutch if only he wasn’t sworn to fight against the Decepticon that threatened his kind.
He could keep him and their spawn safe from Megatron. He was more than strong enough to keep him full and sated at all times. Megatron and his pathetic drones were no match for the king of the predacons. He could raid any and all energon mines to keep Ultra Magnus happy and full. He’d keep his mate safe, he’d teach him about how to best care for their clutch, he’d show him how to let their younglings feed from his reserves, he would make damn sure that his nest was made of the softest materials this planet had to offer. He would usher in a new era of predacons on earth.
What was stopping him?
What was stopping him?
He would be the only mech that he would need, let the two factions fight over a dead and dying planet, his mate would be happy, safe, and always full of eggs. His clawed hand smeared his transfluid across the swell of his belly, his digits lightly scraping and tracing the biolights that stretched to accommodate his wasted transfluid in his forge. Genetic fluid that would produce nothing, only serving to taunt and tease what he could not yet have. A frustrated growl bubbled up from deep within his chest, only calming when Ultra Magnus reached out with a lazy servo to pet against the side of his helm, silently bringing him down for a slow kiss.
Ultra Magnus was not a mech who showed affection outwardly, often only showing it when he was thoroughly sated. Even getting the uptight mech to relax enough to allow him to open his panels to be worked open took time, wanting to be sure that they weren’t going to be interrupted or walked in on. Even though he never voiced it aloud, when they met at the rendezvous for their meetings, his nervous apprehension reflected in his field. He waited until he was sure he wasn’t followed even if he knew he was always being tracked by the CMO. His voice buzzed out a moan as Predaking’s hips moved slightly, dumping another load into the already full forge.
“I…I don’t think… So full…”
“Shh. I am almost empty. You’re doing so well for me, Ultra Magnus.” He kissed him once again, a tender servo circling the swollen node that glowed bright blue just above his knot. Magnus jerked and tensed, a static hiss was swallowed by Predaking’s willing mouth. It didn’t take much to get the Autobot to overload again, his servos gripping his collar as his pedes flexed on either side of the large mech. His gasps of over-stimulation stayed muted as Predaking felt another round of slugs ready to be deposited on top of Ultra Magnus’ forge. Six slugs that would not be incubated within his mate, six slugs—on top of the five that he released earlier— that wouldn’t get the opportunity to grow into strong predacons. He tried to not let the thought sour the image in his arms, Ultra Magnus’s silver faceplates were tinted a bright blue, near cyan to match his optics.
His flushed face was an image that he wanted to see daily, every time he woke up curled around him, round and warm, full with his chest armor bursting open as his body changed. His tank was almost empty, he rutted to savor the last few moments as he felt his knot begin to deflate and the tight suction of his mate’s cervix began to release. His time was just about to run out to stay with Magnus when he heard the sound of a few mechs entering his cave.
Ratchet brought Bulkhead and Bumblebee with him to search for the missing lieutenant. Five klicks was strange but nothing to be concerned over, ten klicks was concerning, but nothing to be worried over, an entire day cycle? That was more than cause for worry. He could be injured and his pride would get the best of him to try and push himself back to base. As they approached where his signal was the strongest, they were met with a cave. He turned his headlights on to scan the cave for energon trails, but only found deep claw marks. Bulkhead transformed his servos into wrecking balls and ‘Bee transformed his servos into blasters. Ratchet remained in front as he continued to ping Ultra Magnus’ location. “Magnus! Hey are you still functioning?” Bulkhead called out. “Magnus!!”
A few more feet into the cave the claw marks disappeared just at a fork in the cave. The signal was coming from the middle of the fork, they could either split up, which Ratchet really didn’t want to do, or all three of them could chance going down one side. Bulkhead called out to the missing mech again, hoping that he would hear anything back. The three of them increased the sensitivity on their audials for anything when Bumblebee pointed to the right corridor. ::I heard something down this way.:: The three of them stalked down, the growling sounds getting louder and more defined.
They stopped again and turned around to dodge the fireball that barreled down the tunnel. Ratchet now checked if Ultra Magnus was potentially knocked unconscious if they had ran into that one predacon beast Shockwave created. There was a combined sense of urgency to get Ultra Magnus out of this damn cave and get him back to base.
…
It was all servos on deck to extract Ultra Magnus and every autobot back at base was more than concerned. Optimus had to be bridged out to pull his lieutenant from the beast’s den, requesting that the main area be cleared unless they were a medic. When Ratchet asked why, Optimus sent him an image he snapped before they left the cave. Knock Out was ordered to prep the medibay for potential egg extraction and set up an energon IV.
He was bloated and covered in scratches that dulled his paint, he had bite marks along his neck and abdomen, that beasthad used him as an incubator!
As he was brought in, Optimus excused himself to maintain his second-in-command’s decency. Knock Out did a cursory wipe down along his legs and scanned his forge. Luckily there was no eggs, but his forge needed to be drained. He was still dazed as his helm fell from side to side, rambling incoherently and buzzing static as his optics remained unfocused. Ratchet put him in a medical stasis, he would have to remove his armor plates to reshape them until his protoform shrunk back to its normal sizing.
It took joors but most of the predacon transfluid was removed from his forge, an invasive procedure, but a necessary one if Magnus wanted to be able to go back to work once more.
…
By the next cycle, Ultra Magnus was able to open his optics and get a bearing on his surroundings. Back at base. Trying speak up, his throat pipe was dry, so he rolled over to cough but the pressure to do so strained his midsection painfully.
“You’re finally awake, Mags. Try not to cough too hard, your body's still trying to shrink.” Knock Out got up from his crate and jacked into the medical port. “No viruses and your firewalls are still rock solid. Once the swelling goes down, I’m going to replace your baffles. That predacon did a number on your frame.” Ultra Magnus groaned and rolled back onto his back, servos tightly holding his midsection. Through clenched dentae, he groaned.
“Parched…”
“I’m aware, but your tank is dented and is probably very sensitive, so you’re on an IV for now.” Knock Out took a quick look around almost conspiratorially, “What's said in the medibay stays in the medibay. You mind telling me what’s the reason your were shacked up with the predacon?” Ultra Magnus squinted his optics at the red mech.
“I was kidnapped.”
“And you didn’t think to call for help?”
“My comms were rendered unusable so deep into the cave.” An airtight lie that he had been rehearsing with Predaking since their first tryst. “I don’t remember much other than being ambushed, regaining my consciousness inside of the cave, and being taken advantage of.” Predaking was nothing like how other mechs described him. A gentlemech despite his size and ferocity, his main priority was to rebuild the predacon population and to kill Megatron for causing their extinction before they could live. Predaking was soft touches and kind words, he was honest and clear about what his intentions were, and he knew how to be gentle during interface. There was no way he was going to tell Knock Out that he was mated to Predaking.
“Mmmm… Well, Doc Bot and Big Blue are glad you’re back. You’ve got one hell of a recovery schedule until you can go out again. Luckily that big mutt didn’t actually use you as an incubator, egg extraction is painful and difficult.” He shuddered at the extraction he had to do for a poor vehicon on the Nemesis after an insecticon got a hold of one. Though if he had to guess, one to two large eggs would be an easier extraction versus hundreds of insect eggs. But Magnus had this itty bitty little waist, such a thin waist would make removing even a couple of eggs a full on surgery. “You should be grateful that there’ll be a minimal amount of warping once your protoform finishes shrinking. After we finish fixing your tank, you should be able to rest in your own berth.” Ultra Magnus nodded and rested his helm back on the medislab.
He was going to have to talk to Predaking about not being so rough with him, he was forged tough, but his midsection was still the most delicate part. If he sustained any damage or deformation to that part, it would be very noticeable.
“Another thing, Mags.” Ultra Magnus didn’t have the strength to correct him on the nickname the second time he said it, “your ceiling nodes are almost completely busted. Frag, I mean, he really stretched you out. I would refrain from any interfacing for awhile, your array will be real sore and tender for a long while.” Again, Predaking was a gentlemech, he was gentle with him. He hadn’t been this worked over ever, every single time he shifted on the steel berthslab, pain shot through his frame. “Your whole everything will be sore. If the pain is too much, we can put you in a temporary stasis while your frame heals.”
“No need.” He rasped. “I-nng-” he shifted again, “I will be fine.” Knock Out squinted his optics but turned away.
“If you say so.”
They took him away!! His mate! For all he knew they would keep him away for as long as possible! Nothing would stand in his way of getting his mate back. Predaking growled in rage, storming out of his cave and flying around searching for Ultra Magnus.
The next time he laid his optics on him, he would pin him to the nest and stuff him full of eggs.
The Autobots knew where his cave was, he’d need to find a new one and build the best nest he could for Ultra Magnus. He needed to raid the Nemesis for refined energon, but if that wasn’t an option he could always rob a mine. Flying around and throwing columns of fire was a fine way to release pent up energy, it would do nothing to prepare for his future clutch. Yes.
Not every castle is already built for a king.