Mirage:

*After being released from the medbay - /with/ a new spoiler, thankfully - Mirage has braved the perils of his own room again to collect a significant portion of his /best/ energon hoard*

Mirage:

*He is - Primus help him - back on his way through the Nemesis to deliver it to the intended recipient.*

Bonecrusher:

*Mirage is a brave, brave soul.  Braver than Bonecrusher, at least, because that bastard 'con is doing nothing but hanging out in his room.  More accurately, he's a bit busy kissing Tracks, which is a pastime he really enjoys.*

Tracks:

*and Tracks really shouldn't be doing this, but he has yet to resist the lure of Bonecrusher -

Tracks:

making out is usually a good way to start out another night of making things more thoroughly complicated, right?*

Mirage:

*Firmly ignoring any and all heebie jeebies from merely being /on the Nemesis,/ as sanctuary is right in front of him... Mirage knocks.*

Bonecrusher:

Ugh.  *He pulls back from Tracks, growling a bit*  Swear t'Primus - *Raises his voice to shout*  YEAH, WHO'S IT?

Tracks:

*Optics widen as Tracks looks at the door as though expecting a rampaging helicopter to come through it.*

Tracks:

*It's only just barely that he doesn't make a run for the washroom, but that's neither classy nor would it make a difference, really.*

Mirage:

Mirage. *raises his voice back* Are you terribly occupied? I assure you, I don't come empty-handed this time.

Bonecrusher:

UH.  *Bonecrusher looks at Tracks and then sighs, stepping back from the Corvette reluctantly.  But... possible gifts?  From an Autobot?  That's kind of a rare situation here!*

Tracks:

*Mirage? Well, Mirage wasn't Blackout, but still... Tracks gave Bonecrusher a dubious look after turning his gaze back from the door*

Mirage:

*Mirage is, for the record, /certainly/ not keeping paranoid sensors tuned to their maximum, listening and keeping an optic out for drones.*

Bonecrusher:

.....NOT REALLY BUSY.  ONE SEC.  *Gifts, Tracks!  Besides, Mirage came all this way.  So he sighs and goes over to unlock the door, giving Tracks one more look to make sure he's... okay with it.*

Tracks:

*Optics narrow, but as Bonecrusher approaches the door, Tracks smoothes out his expression to something less sour*

Bonecrusher:

*And there's the door for you, Mirage, don't you like the prospect of walking in here as opposed to standing out in weevil country?*

Mirage:

*Mirage very /much/ likes the prospect of leaving weevil country. He slides in almost before he greets Bonecrusher, and then Tracks as he catches sight of him.* I hope I'm not interrupting -?

Bonecrusher:

*He locks the door behind Mirage, because he'd rather not have weevils bursting through his door at any point in time, then regards the newcomer casually*  'M SURPRISED Y'RISKED COMIN' DOWN HERE.

Bonecrusher:

*Mentally cursing himself because he has no witty nickname to call Mirage!  Gotta work on that.*

Mirage:

Ah, well, there's no point in staying out of the game for long, is there? I'm glad that I'm not interrupting.

Mirage:

*with a nigh-imperceptible edge to his voice for Tracks's benefit: 'we had this discussion and I /better/ not have been interrupting anything'*

Tracks:

*Tracks doesn't quiet look guilty, but it's a close thing - really, he's tried arguing every time he sees Bonecrusher...*

Bonecrusher:

*This is not his fault.  Takes two to tango, gorgeous.*  NAH, YER NOT INTERRUPTIN' ANYTHIN'.  WHAT'S TH' OCCASION?

Mirage:

I wanted to repay your courtesy, is all. And replace what I drank of your energon. *begins unsubspacing some cubes of energon and placing them neatly on the table*

Mirage:

*The cubes probably cost more than Bonecrusher's mom. If Bonecrusher'd had a mom, anyway. Strong as sin and twice as pleasurable to experience.*

Bonecrusher:

COURTESY.  *deadpans, but the expression on his face clearly reads, "I need to be nicer to classier people more often!"*

Tracks:

*Tracks looks at the cubes, then at Mirage, arching an optic ridge in an "is that what I think it is?" expression*

Mirage:

*looks completely collected and possibly a /trifle/ smug at the reactions - these are cubes that were somewhat expensive even for /him,/ back in the day: he'd been saving them for a special occasion*

Bonecrusher:

WELL, ON ONE HAND, 'M KINDA ANNOYED THAT I'VE BECOME SO EASY T'READ, BUT ON TH' OTHER HAND, I AM NEVER ONE TO TURN DOWN FREE BOOZE.  *so of course, he sidesteps to the table and picks a cube up, looking at it a bit clinically*

Tracks:

Are you really that surprised? Given your usual state of having a cube in one hand, at the least. *watching, curious but attempting to stay nonchalant for the most part*

Mirage:

Not so much 'easy to read' as something I thought might be appropriate, considering.

Bonecrusher:

FIRSTLY, I DO NOT  ALWAYS HAVE A CUBE IN HAND.  *lightly, pointing the cube at Tracks*  SOMETIMES I KEEP 'EM HIDDEN IN POLITE COMPANY.  AN' SECONDLY, MIRAGE, THANKS.

Tracks:

*looks like he's not sure whether to be offended that he's not "polite company", but decides on leaving it rather than making a fuss*

Mirage:

It was the least that I could do. *modesty, apparently your name is Mirage* I hope that you enjoy them. *and the glance he gives includes Tracks in the 'you,' as is proper*

Bonecrusher:

*Tracks, you are very special  company!  That's better  than polite!  Bonecrusher puts a hand on Mirage's shoulder and shrugs, taking a relatively hefty swig and-*  ....OOH.  NICE!  *brightly*

Tracks:

*It's a completely innocent touch. That's what Tracks tells himself anyway, though watching, he feels uncomfortably out of place*

Mirage:

*that nets Bonecrusher a rare smile from the racecar, looking up at the bigger Decepticon* Oh, good.

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher doesn't like drinking alone, though!  So he grabs a cube and fairly drops it into Mirage's hands, before fetching a second and holding it out to Tracks brightly*  NOW, CAN WE GET DRUNK?  THAT'S ALWAYS FUN.

Tracks:

*takes it with much less arguing than normal, and sips from the cube carefully - which still leaves him reeling a moment* ...ooh, Mirage, where did you -get- this?

Mirage:

*pleased with the reactions, all told* I've had it for a while; it seemed the right time to bring it out.

Bonecrusher:

PRETTY MUCH ANY TIME IS A GOOD TIME T'BRING HIGHLY VOLATILE ENERGON OUT FER MASS CONSUMPTION.  *takes another swig and goes to sit fairly easily on his berth, tipping the cube towards the two Autobots*

Bonecrusher:

C'MON, THOUGH, 'S NO FUN IF 'M ALONE.  'SIDES, YOU TWO ARE HILARIOUS WHEN DRUNK.

Tracks:

Am -not-. *Indignant Tracks says, after another sip* Unless you just find it funny that it doesn't take a considerable amount to get me there.

Mirage:

I hate to say it, Tracks, but you /are/ incredibly entertaining with the right amount of energon in you. *sips his own cube, optics dimming in quiet pleasure at the taste*

Bonecrusher:

*snickers*  YOU TIP.  *takes another gulp*  'S WONDERFUL.

Tracks:

*hmphs, and consoles himself with another sip* At least this is -worth- very possibly humiliating myself for.

Mirage:

*savoring each drink, still more than somewhat smug at his gift's reception* Then we'll simply have to encourage you to do so.

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher doesn't mind letting Mirage feel smug if he's getting some good energon out of it*  DON'T BE SO PUT OUT, GORGEOUS.  'S BETTER T'BE ENTERTAININ' WHEN YER DRUNK, RATHER'N EMO OR SOMETHIN'.

Tracks:

You're not the one being laughed at. But I suppose you're right. *he takes a step back to perch on the edge of Bonecrusher's berth*

Tracks:

*In a totally innocent way! He just knows he'll need it soon, as much as he's enjoying the drink so far*

Mirage:

Never fear; I know that I at least will be joining you soon enough. *savoring his drink, yes, but that entails /drinking/ it, too* I hope it's potent enough for you? *inquisitive look at Bonecrusher*

Bonecrusher:

'S FINE.  AT LEAST IT DOESN'T BURN OUT EVERY SENSOR IN YER MOUTH.  *thanks Primus for that, taking a gulp*

Tracks:

Of course not - this is -premium-. *He looks down at the cube with a slight smile* I haven't had this in vorns.

Mirage:

It was... reasonably hard to get. Harder to keep, knowing it was there. I'm glad you like it. *and that's a smile for Tracks, too - someone is /relaxed/ tonight*

Bonecrusher:

WHAT D'YA MEAN, PREMIUM.  MY SLAG IS AS GOOD AS THIS.  *defensive, much?*  AN' I CAN IMAGINE HOW LONG IT'D HAVE LASTED ON TH' NEMESIS.  *that last bit is directed at Mirage*

Tracks:

Yours is the straightest route to overcharged - this is strong, but it has actual flavor as well.

Tracks:

*and another sip, feeling it run through his fuel processor almost warmly*

Mirage:

Half a klik, or am I being generous? *dryly, but apparently that dryness requires another nice, leisurely drink to soothe it*

Bonecrusher:

EH, GIVE OR TAKE A FEW SECONDS, 'S ABOUT RIGHT.  AN' SLAGGIT, CORVETTE, WHY DO Y'DRINK  IF IT AIN'T T'GET DRUNK?

Tracks:

There -was- a time that energon was made with more than just the intention of getting a mech completely blitzed.

Mirage:

To ease social interactions, or something like that... *leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over another, stretching out a little: he's not blitzed, but possibly a bit under the influence*

Bonecrusher:

.....*blank look at the both of them, then*  YER BOTH OUTTA YER MINDS.  *and takes a long drink to signify just how crazy they are.  Drinking to do something other than get drunk? MADNESS.*

Tracks:

Not all of us have the fuel systems designed for consummate drunkenness. *said almost cheerfully - yes, easy drunk is easy*

Mirage:

*snickers a little* Such as yourself, Tracks? Since it's so terribly easy...

Tracks:

*frowns primly* Primus, no. Mine are sensitive.

Mirage:

Precisely! Your systems must be /designed/ for drunkenness, being so sensitive. *smugly takes a long drink*

Bonecrusher:

*is being a very good 'Con and refraining from making any "sensitive" jokes, just smirking because oooh, he so could right now!*

Tracks:

*hmph* If they were designed for it, then it wouldn't be so bad for me.

Mirage:

You certainly don't seem to think so right /now./ *finishes that rather potent cube with pleasure*

Tracks:

This is good energon in good company. *only about 2/3rds down on his* It's different.

Bonecrusher:

*refrains from directly saying anything, shifting on the berth to get more comfortable - thereby bringing himself just a tiny bit closer to Tracks.  Hey, they were  interrupted.  Can't blame him, can you?*

Mirage:

Mmm. You have a point. *tips a cube in Tracks's direction, stretching out more in his chair, luxuriously*

Tracks:

I do. *nods to accentuate his point, and then has another sip* But I'm not sure I'll agree tomorrow.

Bonecrusher:

WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED T'MEAN?  *easily, finishing off his cube and actually waving for Mirage to throw him a new one*  THIS IS ALWAYS GOOD COMPANY, I THOUGHT.

Mirage:

Now here! We can't have that, Tracks. *sits up, loose-limbed, and brings the cube over rather than tossing it: manners die hard, normally in the presence of moonshine*

Mirage:

*moves remarkably gracefully, without stress winding him tight as a crossbow, swaying only a little from the drink: apparently spoiler-feet work pretty well*

Tracks:

I just mean that I dislike hangovers. And finishing this cube might well give me one. *his wings droop a little in anticipation*

Bonecrusher:

*takes the cube from Mirage with a thankful grin, but he can't keep his optics from at least assessing  the other.  That's perfectly innocent, right?*  DON'T WORRY 'BOUT TH' HANGOVER.  Y'JUST DRINK MORE AN' IT GOES AWAY.

Mirage:

*reaches out to reassuringly pat Tracks's drooping wing even as he smiles back at Bonecrusher, possibly putting a bit of a /deliberate/ sway in that last step*

Mirage:

We'll all suffer our hangovers in good company. Well, you and I will suffer, anyway.

Tracks:

*The hand on his wing makes him look up - the sway makes him blink*

Tracks:

*The smile, however, makes him frown slightly. ...But they went through this last time, right? He has another, lengthy drink, then.*

Bonecrusher:

*the smile doesn't faze him in the slightest, and he tips the cube in Mirage's (and Tracks') direction before taking a swig, leaning on his hand lightly to be just that much closer to Tracks*

Mirage:

*pats Tracks's wing again - such a sleek shape deserves the contact - and saunters back towards his chair to drape himself back in it. Was that a bit more of a sway as he walks back? It seems so.*

Bonecrusher:

*takes another drink, his optics lingering on Mirage's retreating form.  He is not going to say Mirage doesn't look nice, that's for sure.  When he sits, Bonecrusher can't help but smirk a bit at the lazy way he lays himself out*

Tracks:

*Tracks knows Mirage is a nice looking mech - has known for quite some time, in fact, and so that's not really a revelation*

Tracks:

*however, their attentions have usually both been directed elsewhere, and the contact is a bit... surprising*

Tracks:

*not unwelcome though, really. Though when he glances at Bonecrusher, his frown deepens slightly*

Tracks:

*not that it should - he doesn't own anyone, after all*

Tracks:

*still*

Tracks:

*sip*

Bonecrusher:

*his optics slide back over to Tracks, and he gives him a mildly apologetic look - but seriously, Tracks, your friend is kinda pretty*

Mirage:

*He also seems to be rather aware of it, crossing one leg over another with deliberate grace. But he's making optic contact with them both, mostly Tracks, even as he takes another drink* Tracks. Relax; you're with friends.

Tracks:

*And Tracks is thus mostly-mollified, glancing down at his near-empty cube.* ...Yes, I suppose I am.

Bonecrusher:

*reaches up and pats Tracks lightly on the same wing Mirage had been doing the same - but his claws slide a bit against the metal lightly as he pulls his hand away*  Y'ARE, NO SUPPOSIN' INVOLVED.

Mirage:

As Bonecrusher said. *nods, still leaning back in his chair. He most definitely sees that little slide, by the way his optics follow it.* Finish your cube; I'll bring you another if you like.

Tracks:

*It takes Tracks a moment, the feeling of claws against the flat of his wing drawing a shiver from him that he hides not as well as he'd hoped*

Tracks:

*He has to think about what Mirage said, as well, and then he almost hurriedly tips the cube up for the last drink*

Bonecrusher:

*enjoys that shudder immensely, and chuckles a bit at Tracks' rush to finish the cube, taking a leisurely drink - and by the way, Mirage?  He sees you seeing his little slide, and he doesn't care~*

Mirage:

*glides up from his seat, and that is an outright /saunter,/ placing his feet delicately with each step. He knows quite well that Bonecrusher knows, oh yes. And if Tracks doesn't know yet, he will very shortly become aware.*

:

*Tracks is, in fact, not quite aware - he does, however, notice that Mirage is looking very slinky as he nears the berth*

:

*and whatever he was going to say is now stuck in his vocalizer, the empty cube still in his hands*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher's not one to miss these kinds of things - especially with such nice energon loosening up his processors, and his optics go from Mirage's approach to Tracks, not entirely as they would in "polite company"*

Mirage:

Tracks. /Tracks./ *leans over and waves a hand in front of the Corvette's face with a pleased little smirk. Possibly he's a little bit more inside Tracks's (and Bonecrusher's) personal space than is /strictly/ necessary.*

Tracks:

Mirage. Yes? *He blinks, not even bothering with feeling embarrassed, giving the other Autobot a wide-optic'ed look*

Bonecrusher:

*chuckles lowly, leaning back a bit and taking a long drink, optics not leaving the two sports cars.  Hey, drinks and a show?  Mirage really knows how to entertain a mech*

Mirage:

Are you still with us here? *is quite good at questions that mean several things, indicating Bonecrusher with the wave of a hand*

Tracks:

I think so. *He glances at Bonecrusher and feels distinctly warmer at the look the larger mech is giving the both of them.* ...Yes.

Bonecrusher:

*his hand replaces itself on Tracks' wing, but this time, it's more to just scrape along the metal - he hides that under some kind of pseudo-reassurance, finishing off his cube in a few heavy gulps and discarding the empty cube*

Mirage:

Good. *that's practically a drawn-out croon in and of itself, as Mirage leans in and plucks the empty cube from Tracks's hand*

Tracks:

*Tracks shivers again, relinquishing the cube easily, and then hesitates slightly as he looks up at Mirage again*

Bonecrusher:

*his hand continues to slide along the wing, optics looking between the two - hey, if they aren't going to stop him... his clawtips scrape upwards and hook lightly over the edge of the wing, running along that edge for the moment*

Mirage:

*leans further into Tracks's personal space, setting his hands on Tracks's knees for balance* *cocks his head to the side, expectant and almost mischievous*

Tracks:

*The slight, sharp touch makes him straighten up a little with a soft sound, one hand coming up reflexively to touch Mirage's arm*

Tracks:

*He still hesitates for a moment, but then leans in further, closing the distance to kiss Mirage lightly*

Bonecrusher:

*he very nearly purrs at Tracks' move, watching the two fairly predatorily, claws still working along the edge of Tracks' wing*

Bonecrusher:

*then he shifts a bit, making it easier to reach out and get his other hand on Mirage's hip, not sinking his claws in - yet*

Mirage:

*hums for a moment into that light kiss, soft and encouraging, sliding one hand along the armor over Tracks's thigh as he glances over at Bonecrusher, optics intent*

Tracks:

*He's caught for a moment between the feel of claws still against his wings and the kiss - *

Tracks:

*though when he follows Mirage's gaze, the look the larger mech is giving them seems to encourage a deepening of said kiss, fingers curling around Mirage's arm*

Bonecrusher:

*his claws tighten their grip slightly on both cars, leaning in a bit and going over the Autobots with leering optics, practically committing them in this state to memory*

Mirage:

*leans in further, resting his free hand on Tracks's shoulder, and apparently has /no/ problems whatsoever with the deepness of that kiss, optics half on Bonecrusher*

Tracks:

*Tracks makes a low sound and his other hand snakes around to the back of Mirage's head, pulling him in deeper - not desperate, just wanting more, insistently so.*

Bonecrusher:

*his engine rumbles lowly and he leans in, meeting Mirage's optics with a smirk on his face before tilting his head to lick the edge of Tracks' wing, keeping his gaze on the race car in front of Tracks*

Mirage:

*slides his hands on Tracks's knees up the Corvette's thighs and over his hips, insinuating himself between Tracks's legs in order to kiss him more deeply*

Mirage:

*doesn't break Bonecrusher's gaze, smirking with his optics because his mouth is rather ... occupied*

Tracks:

*Tracks fought to hold himself still as Bonecrusher teased his wing, groaning against Mirage's mouth as he happily pulled the other 'bot further into the kiss*

Tracks:

*And he nips gently in some frustration at being caught between the two of them- though it's not much of a protest*

Bonecrusher:

*shifts, moving the hand on Tracks' wing to the Corvette's side, just above Mirage's hand, clawtips digging very slightly into a seam as he bites the wing lightly*

Bonecrusher:

*meanwhile, his hand on Mirage's hip clenches slightly, not particularly intent on finding any seams at the moment - he knows Tracks a lot better than the race car, and overstepping boundaries at the moment isn't his goal*

Mirage:

*Tracks's strategy of redirecting Mirage's attention works, apparently!*

Mirage:

*Mirage's engine /purrs/ at Tracks's reproof and he redirects his gaze accordingly, working one hand along Tracks's back and stroking Bonecrusher's fingers as he goes*

Tracks:

*The Corvette's back arches under their hands, leaning into their touch as his own fingers dig into Mirage's arm*

Tracks:

*Engine revving demandingly in response, he nips again and lets his other hand fall from the back of Mirage's head-*

Tracks:

*-to where Bonecrusher's rests against the racecar's hip, finding seams and spots where his fingers can slip under, teasing circuitry*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher pulls back momentarily, twisting on the berth and bringing a leg up behind Tracks so he can actually get in close, hands finding their spots once again*

Bonecrusher:

*The view while changing his position is spectacular, in his humble opinion, but he distracts himself from it by leaning in and biting at the side of the corvette's neck, getting a fuel line in his mouth and sucking on it*

Mirage:

*Mirage arches his back with a moan at the fingers underneath his hip, tracing along the edges of Tracks's armor panels before working his hand underneath one* Mmm...

Tracks:

*Tracks breaks from the kiss to give Bonecrusher better access, leaning his head back with a drawn out groan*

Tracks:

* And his fans come on with a vengeance, cooling down systems now heated with the step up in stimulation*

Tracks:

*as the Corvette wraps his legs around the backs of Mirage's thighs to pull him in just that much further*

Bonecrusher:

*He trails bites and licks along random lines in Tracks' neck, claws drifting below the Corvette's hand to slip below his fingers, picking lightly at wires in Mirage's side with the tips of his claws*

Mirage:

*Mirage leans a little to the side, stretching to give Bonecrusher more surface area to explore, and slides up onto the berth after Tracks, breaking the kiss to lick down the Corvette's neck as well*

Tracks:

*Tracks squirms and leans back further, his whole chassis arched in a way that almost looks painful*

Tracks:

*though obviously it's anything but from the sounds he's making,*

Tracks:

*gasping at the other two with little direction as he just sort of happily weathers the attention*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher drags his claws up the sideseam on Tracks' chassis, scraping and rubbing against wires and circuits underneath the plating*

Bonecrusher:

*His other hand digging in deeper as more of Mirage's side becomes readily available for him to toy with*

Mirage:

*Mirage squirms underneath Bonecrusher's touch, and licks across Tracks's neck to Bonecrusher - it's not quite at the right angle to be a real /kiss,/ but it's definitely something, anyway*

Tracks:

*Tracks isn't in much of a position to do anything but groan, vents sucking in air near-constantly*

Tracks:

*The position he's in makes it difficult to do more than cling to them both, rocking up against Mirage even from that awkward angle*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher twists his head a bit, giving a thick wire in Tracks' neck one last bite before moving his mouth to mash up against Mirage's a bit less awkwardly, claws stroking whatever wires he can reach on either mech*

Mirage:

*makes an muffled noise of approval into Bonecrusher's mouth, making it into something more like an actual kiss, and splays his fingers out over Tracks's back, slipping their way towards the wheelwells in the Corvette's shoulders*

Tracks:

*Optics flickering, Tracks watches them as claws slide into him and fingertips slip against chrome-like metal.*

Tracks:

*Leaning back a little more gives him room to see more easily, very appreciative of the view--*

Tracks:

*as well as to better feel their hands as they delve deeper*

Bonecrusher:

*His claws sink in as Tracks leans back, optics flashing as he glances at the Corvette, growling and biting briefly at Mirage's mouth*

Bonecrusher:

*He hooks a claw under a group of wires in the race car's side and tugs on them sharply - but not so hard that anything will be pulled out*

Mirage:

*hisses and /shudders/ into that tug, nipping back at the corner of Bonecrusher's mouth*

Tracks:

*Captive audience, Tracks doesn't feel at all left out despite the attention the other two are directing at each other*

Tracks:

*hard to when he can barely suppress a groan as they both continue to manipulate some of his most sensitive areas*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher continues to play with wiring he's familiar with in the Corvette, while taking his time to familiarize himself with Mirage and all the things that might make him respond favorably*

Bonecrusher:

*He has no problem drawing the blunt edges of his claws against wiring in the hopes of finding something new to toy with in Mirage*

Mirage:

*Newness can indeed be found, as Mirage makes little hisses and quiet sounds at particularly good spots.*

Mirage:

*No obvious high-points of pleasure yet - it's probably simply the wrong area - but the racecar shows no indication whatsoever of complaining, especially with those blunt edges scraping his wires.*

Mirage:

*Nor is Mirage idle, hands stroking inside Tracks's wheelwells before wrapping around what he can of the axle itself.*

Mirage:

*He abandons Bonecrusher's mouth with a final bite in favor of trying to find interesting places to insinuate his glossa.*

Tracks:

*Tracks squirms a little more and then gasps, struggling a little finally as his patience - and his stamina - wears somewhat embarrassingly thin.*

Tracks:

*He pushes his heels against the berth to move back further, to where he can pull himself together and drag the racecar further onto it with him*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher is perfectly willing to follow wherever the two Autobots might shift and so he moves with Tracks, tilting his face inwards to lick along the lower seam of the Corvette's chestplate*

Bonecrusher:

*Meanwhile, his hand on Mirage stretches out and grabs at one of the race car's feet when it comes into range, aiming to help facilitate this change in position*

Mirage:

*Mirage /mewls,/ hands clamping tight over Tracks's axles for purchase as he twists, lithe, and presses his foot up towards Bonecrusher's hand, rubbing the top edge of the 'spoiler' part of it hard against the Decepticon's palm*

Tracks:

*Tracks couldn't miss Mirage's reaction, seeing as how he's groaning beneath the tight, near-painful grip*

Tracks:

*but the angle means its difficult for him to retaliate past a further tug*

Tracks:

*so he pulls Mirage over him as his hands explore the other 'bot's sides and back*

Bonecrusher:

*Oh really  now.  That's interesting.  Bonecrusher drags his palm along the spoiler as he licks and bites at Tracks' chestplate, claws grabbing at wiring and pulling*

Mirage:

*Mirage /squirms/ at the dual attention, belatedly loosening his grip on Tracks's axles and moving into the wiring around them*

Mirage:

*basically winds up with one knee on the berth between Tracks's thighs and his other leg twisted so that his foot never loses contact with Bonecrusher's hand, but he is /not/ complaining about the awkwardness of the position*

Tracks:

*Tracks writhes a bit as well, punctuated with slightly staticky gasps as hands smaller than he's used to lately play among his wiring.*

Tracks:

*Bonecrusher's teasing doesn't help, though he's loathe to admit just how much he'd like the other's mouth on somewhat more internal parts*

Tracks:

*So he forgets himself somewhat as he digs his fingers into seams a little harder than he means to, wings quivering under his own weight*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher growls, deeper than before, and removes his claws from Tracks, sliding his hand up and trailing them surprisingly lightly along the wider planes of a wing*

Bonecrusher:

*His other hand changes it's grip a bit and he slides the broad side of a claw across the spoiler bit of Mirage's foot, following it with the same light touch of clawtips that he's administering to Tracks' wing*

Mirage:

*Mirage makes a stuttering moaning noise, foot twitching in Bonecrusher's hand and pressing up against those light clawtips, and swings himself around so that he's on Tracks's lap entirely*

Mirage:

*His hands aren't idle, sliding their way along Tracks's side and underneath plating, leaning back to put his mouth on a promising-looking piece of armor and lick underneath*

Tracks:

*The Corvette tenses as a sharp clawtip traces over his wing*

Tracks:

*--optics dimming and motor revving at the somewhat more concentrated sensation*

Bonecrusher:

*Autobots make the best  noises.  Bonecrusher keeps his touch light on both Autobots until his claws reach the seam where Tracks' wing meets his back, following that down*

Bonecrusher:

*But once he reaches the very bottom of the wing, he digs in, both into the seam and against Mirage's feet - still not fully molesting the spoiler, though, since he's not exactly sure how hard is 'too hard' for the race car*

Mirage:

*The strained hiss that Mirage emits indicates that Bonecrusher is /not/ doing badly at /all,/ and the way he keeps pressing his foot up against Bonecrusher's hand probably means that no, it's not 'too hard'*

Mirage:

*Meanwhile, he keeps licking under the edges of Tracks's armor-panels, glancing to the side enough to find /some/ part of Bonecrusher for one of his hands to home in on*

Tracks:

*At that, Tracks whimpers and jerks like a marionette on a string- *

Tracks:

*- clinging to Mirage tightly as it pushes him just that much closer to the edge of overload.*

Tracks:

*He'd feel worse about it if he weren't still half-overcharged, but that and the constant assault on his sensor arrays proves a little too much*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher grins and works to lick at the seam with new intensity, claws digging into Tracks, the other set working on testing just how  hard he can work Mirage's feet before it actually stops feeling good.  Science is fun.*

Mirage:

*Shiny blue cars agree! And Mirage's range of tolerance seems to be pretty high, judging by the way he's rubbing the edge of his other foot against Bonecrusher's leg shamelessly.*

Mirage:

*That, the little hissing noises he keeps making, and the way he's started to bite at the edges of Tracks's armor, anyway!*

Mirage:

*the hand reaching for Bonecrusher finds the side of the Decepticon's chest and digging immediately between armor panels.*

Tracks:

*He'd say that's terribly unfair, but there's not much room for speaking when you're suddenly forced into overload*

Tracks:

*Engine revving alongside the somehow-surprised cry of pleasure, Tracks can't really do anything but hold on desperately*

Tracks:

*Well, until he overheats-- that offlines him, systems making a decision to abort rather than pop*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher takes a few moments to extract his hand and mouth from Tracks, letting go of Mirage's foot so that he can lean up and give the offlined Corvette's neck a quick nip, before looking back at Mirage in mild amusement*

Bonecrusher:

*After all, this is new territory.  Still...  Well, experimentation is key, so he doesn't let the other react much to poor Tracks before reaching forward and physically hauling the 'bot up a bit*

Bonecrusher:

*He then shifts so he can better lean down and lick  the bottom of one foot.  Poor Tracks is going to wake up to this in his lap, probably.  Hope he doesn't get jealous now.*

Mirage:

*Mirage has the time to return that amused look, as if to say 'Does he normally do that?', but before the actual words leave his mouth, he is being lifted and his foot is being licked and let us be honest, it has been /some/ time.*

Mirage:

*He outright /yelps,/ strangled, and twists himself around on Tracks's lap, hanging on to the offlined Corvette for balance with one hand and reaching for whatever wires and cables he can pull on Bonecrusher with the other*

Tracks:

*Tracks? Well, if he's an easy lay, then at least he bounces back quickly.*

Tracks:

*Systems restart and he comes online to a squirming Autobot in his lap - things could be much worse, really*

Tracks:

*His engine hiccups a little as he lets his hands wander along Mirage, helping along as his processor attempts to refocus, slowly*

Bonecrusher:

*Mirage's wandering hands draw a low groan from Bonecrusher's vocalizer, taking to nipping at the foot nearest his mouth.  His hand reaches up so he can drag claws along any seam he comes into contact with on the racecar*

Bonecrusher:

*He glances at Tracks, pleasantly amused at how quickly the other comes back online.  Welcome back, gorgeous*

Mirage:

*Mirage /writhes/ under the terribly-enjoyable onslaught, foot flexing underneath Bonecrusher's mouth as he makes choked little noises and digs his fingers into whatever he can find*

Tracks:

*Tracks meets Bonecrusher's glance with a wry sort of smile and then turns towards Mirage, returning the earlier favor with a nip of his own to the racecar's throat*

Bonecrusher:

*He clenches a hand slightly around Mirage's foot, holding tighter to keep the other from squirming so much, smirking and slipping claws into a transformation seam on the racecar, trailing the duller edge along internal wires*

Mirage:

*Mirage stifles a louder cry, fingers clamping down on both Bonecrusher and Tracks as he overloads.

Mirage:

A stray circuit snaps with a brittle sound under the deluge of input as Mirage spasms, trying reflexively to curl up around the sensation and offlining before he's successful*

Tracks:

*Tracks wraps his arms around the other Autobot to keep him from pitching over as he offlines, patting him absently

Tracks:

- his smile now a slight grin as he gives Bonecrusher a warm and rather sated glance*

Bonecrusher:

*He smirks back at the Corvette, then shoves himself back from the two Autobots, getting to his feet and going to grab yet another cube.  As far as he's concerned?  This is a success!*

Mirage:

*Mirage shifts as he's moved, engine rumbling a little louder as he tries to reboot and come back online. Somehow, though, he manages to skip right past 'online' straight to 'recharge.'*

Tracks:

*The position he's in means Tracks is being held up as much as he's holding the other, so he's comfortable staying as he is*

Tracks:

*Amused as he senses the change in the other Autobot, he shifts enough that he can watch Bonecrusher, optics dimmed and his voice low*

Tracks:

I think he needed that.

Bonecrusher:

*His own voice is a bit low and rough*  Prob'ly.  Most everyone seems t'need it nowadays.  *He punctuates the statement by taking a swig, coming back to stand next to the berth*  ...Eh, he's small enough.  Move yer afts.

Tracks:

*Tracks moves to accommodate, grateful that Mirage is a lightweight as he gives the greater part of the berth up for the larger mech*

Mirage:

*is /very/ easily moved; maybe weighs half of what Tracks does, and it's mostly engines and armor*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher drains the cube quickly, tossing it aside before sitting, taking a few moments to make sure he isn't about to crush either of them.*

Bonecrusher:

*After that, though, he crashes pretty unceremoniously, throwing an arm as far over the both of them as possible*

Tracks:

*Tracks says nothing, and eventually follows their lead, willing to put off complex or intelligent thought until the morning*

A GREAT DEAL OF HOURS LATER............................

Mirage:

*By the next morning, the recharging Mirage has somehow managed to shift around so that he is nestled with both Bonecrusher and Tracks, his arms wrapped around - well, someone, anyway*

Bonecrusher:

*Bonecrusher's got an arm over both Autobots, a foot off the berth, and quite possibly will be having a bit of a hangover when he wakes up.  But for now?  Good recharge is good*

Tracks:

*Tracks on the other hand... well, first to online is a bitch, but someone's got to do it. Even if he was last to recharge.*

Tracks:

*His systems leave stand-by reluctantly, chassis aching as he tries to remember why there seems to be a lot of mech besides himself on his berth*

Tracks:

*He pushes at an arm (Bonecrusher's, by the weight), and sits up, optics dim as he looks at the other two, expression blank*

Mirage:

*doesn't so much as mumble in his recharge cycle as he's shifted, his legs entangled with Tracks's and arms wrapped around Bonecrusher's as far as he can reach*

Bonecrusher:

*He grunts as his arm is moved, trying to shift it into a more comfortable position - only it's a little hard to do that with someone latched onto it*  Nngh.  Fr'gn hell...

Tracks:

*Seeing some sign of awakening, Tracks sets his jaw and nudges Bonecrusher (hard) in the side before moving to extricate himself from Mirage*

Mirage:

*Good luck with that, Tracks. Mirage is a cuddler, and not one that really wants to be detached... But it can be done, with patience!*

Bonecrusher:

*Mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like "frag off," he lifts his hand a bit to swat at --*  ...Th' frag're y'doin' here?

Bonecrusher:

*That would be directed at Mirage, who happens to be the first thing he sees when he onlines his optics*

Mirage:

*Mirage, still essentially in recharge, mumbles back something incoherent and nestles in closer to whoever he's holding on to at the moment*

Tracks:

*Tracks snorts lightly, unhooking his legs from where tangling with Mirage's has gotten them stuck, and declines to comment*

Bonecrusher:

....Since yer gettin' up, mind grabbin' me a cube?  *He has the distinct feeling he's going to need one*

Tracks:

... *Tracks shoots him a look, but once he's free he escapes the berth to go find a full cube. Of course, when he gets one, he stands just out of Bonecrusher's reach*

Mirage:

*Mirage has, somehow, stayed deep in recharge, now apparently using Bonecrusher as the largest metallic teddy bear in existence without a Tracks to hold on to as well.*

Bonecrusher:

*Unimpressed, Bonecrusher twists a bit to look at the Corvette, almost plaintively saying* Why are y'all th' way over there?

Tracks:

*Tracks looks about to say something, then steps forward, offering the cube with a shrug*

Mirage:

*is, how does the phrase go... 'dead to the world,' not disturbed by Bonecrusher's movement*

Bonecrusher:

*He shifts more, not making any deliberate attempt to dislodge Mirage, and then reaches out, grabbing the cube and taking a long drink, glancing at Tracks afterwards*  Recharge alright?

Tracks:

Just fine. *Folding his arms across his chestplate, he perches on the edge of the berth, still sore and unfocused*

Mirage:

*shifts a little, /finally/ starting to come back online, though the process is remarkably slow.*

Bonecrusher:

*Takes another swig, looking at Mirage in mild confusion*  ....When did we pick him up, again?

Bonecrusher:

.....An' is he always  this cuddly?

Tracks:

Last night, he brought energon. *He glances at Mirage as well* And I don't know; I've never spent a night with him before.

Mirage:

...mm...? *finally, the last mech to wake up begins to struggle back towards coherency, optics flickering briefly and then going back out as Mirage considers whether or not he can recharge for just five more breems...*

Bonecrusher:

*He looks at Tracks, then back at Mirage, then back -*  .......An' how long have you two been friends?

Tracks:

*Tracks gives Bonecrusher a bemused look* Since before the war.

Bonecrusher:

.....An' y'never spent a night with him?  At all?  *This is Bonecrusher's "man-did-you-miss-out" face*

Mirage:

...sp'n a night wi' who...? *Mirage attempts to enter the conversation. This is perhaps hindered by the fact that he hasn't onlined his optics yet.*

Tracks:

...I didn't interface with all of my acquaintances. *Slightly testy, yes*

Bonecrusher:

Eh.  Each their own, I guess.  *Shifts mildly, giving Mirage a light poke*  He's kinda clingy.

Mirage:

...Tr'ks isn' clingy... *Even mostly asleep, Mirage defends his friends' honor! Such as it is. Despite the fact that Bonecrusher wasn't referring to /Tracks./ But he onlines an optic, at least!*

Tracks:

I'm not the one still attached to Bonecrusher. *He points out, fairly mildly, given that Mirage is obviously not entirely online yet*

Mirage:

...huh? *onlines the other optic for good measure, and finds himself seeing nothing but a vast expanse of tan armor*

Bonecrusher:

*Looks mildly amused, holding out the half-filled cube for the race car*  Mornin', ballerina.  Have some energon.

Mirage:

...Ball'rina? *finally lets go of Bonecrusher and sits up to accept the cube* ...morning...

Tracks:

Good morning. *Tracks says, rubbing at his optics and wondering what he's still doing there*

Mirage:

*disentangles himself from Bonecrusher and accepts the cube, rebooting his optics several times in order to get them focused properly. Not a morning mech, is our racecar.*

Bonecrusher:

*Neither is Bonecrusher, so don't worry about that, Mirage*  'S early, yer feet're sensitive, yer a ballerina so far as 'm concerned.  Cut me some slack.

Tracks:

*Snorts again and stands up from the berth, twitching his wings*

Mirage:

...ballerina... *blinks, takes a sip of energon, and mentally prods himself towards full awakeness* I suppose it could be worse. Ah. Good morning?

Bonecrusher:

Could be callin' ya Invisigirl.  *Smirks*  Yer recharge all right?

Mirage:

Better than. And yours? *looks at Tracks as well, including him in the conversation*

Tracks:

I rested well enough. *with a shrug and a faint smile, still keeping his distance*

Bonecrusher:

One slaggin' way t'wake up, but I ain't complainin'.  *Keep your distance all you want!*

Mirage:

*is, for the record, not sitting all that close to Bonecrusher, now that he's sat up.* I, ah. Have to say that I didn't /intend.../

Tracks:

It happens.

Tracks:

*Another slight shrug and he looks at the two of them* I have things to do today, in any case.

Bonecrusher:

*Quirks an opticridge at Tracks*  Ain't like 'm gonna hold y'back.  Well.  I could, but I ain't gonna.  *Isn't like he got anything out of this :<*

Mirage:

*slides off the berth, his attention again resting mostly with Tracks* I'd much prefer if this, ah, incident changed nothing significantly between us.

Mirage:

I certainly have no /regrets,/ but I wouldn't want to further complicate any matters.

Tracks:

Of course not. *Complete dismissal, ftw, along with vague disbelief* Did you want an escort for the way back?

Bonecrusher:

*Snorts, getting up to get his own damned cube this time*  Autobots.

Mirage:

Oh, as though similar misunderstandings are unheard of with Decepticons. *amused* Or do you mean the lack of semiautomatic weaponry involved? Tracks, I'd be terribly obliged.

Tracks:

I rather think it's his stock response at this point. *Dryly, situated much closer to the door already*

Bonecrusher:

Is not.  An' actually, 's kinda hard t'think differently, considerin' how slaggin' eager y'all are t'get th' slag outta here.  *Opticroll*  Ain't ever seen it with a 'Con.  *He's refraining from sticking out his glossa, at least*

Tracks:

*Tracks' optics narrow slightly, but he waves a hand, dismissive again* You'll live, I'm sure.

Mirage:

Not so much eager, but I stayed later than I had intended in any case. *when in doubt, Mirage tries diplomacy?*

Tracks:

Yes, considering you've had us an entire night and then some.

Tracks:

*Tracks favors Bonecrusher with a smile that has an edge of chill to it*

Bonecrusher:

*Eyes Tracks mildly*  Now, hey.  You  two're th' ones who got an overload.  Don't be so icy with me, gorgeous.  I ain't forcin' you t'stay - go on.

Tracks:

*Tracks crosses his arms and doesn't respond as he looks away--*

Tracks:

*more obviously upset, but not entirely at Bonecrusher*

Mirage:

Ah... *looks from one to the other, not precisely comfortable* Tracks, shall we go?

Tracks:

Let's. *He's through the door almost as soon as the words leave his vocalizer*

Tracks:

*mostly so he can keep himself from a stupid, disappointing backwards glance*

Bonecrusher:

*Another opticroll, and he gives Mirage an expectant look*

Mirage:

*gives Bonecrusher the look of a mech that is not quite sure /what/ just happened, shrugs, and slips out after Tracks*