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Tarn was already late when he finally stepped out of the swirling snow and into Pharma's sensor range. The jet had been shivering for a long while, even inside the heavy thermal wrap.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor," the menacing tank said, coming to a stop just a little too close for comfort, just enough to loom darkly. "I hope that two weeks was enough to let you settle in. I've been eager to meet you."
Pharma made a determined effort to not seem cowed. He hoped that his rearranging of his wrap seemed imperious and not self-soothing. "I suppose this was inevitable, anyway. What did you want to speak to me about?"
"Let's not stand around out in the snow. I have a shuttle to bring you back to my ship. Follow me." He turned and began to stride off through the drifts. Pharma hesitated, imagining himself at the utter mercy of the monster without anywhere to flee to. Tarn paused. "That wasn't a request. Follow."
They walked through the snow for several minutes more, Tarn wading with little effort and Pharma stumbling along, burdened by his heavy wrap and with snow up over his knees. "How far away did you park?" the jet finally asked.
Tarn turned to answer, but his words were speared out of the air by a rending cry from somewhere out in the blizzard. It was answered by a chorus of others like it, rising up all around them. Pharma felt his spark stutter at the sound. Messatinian wargs. Powerful predators that ate anything, even metal, and left their hives in large packs that could take down nearly any prey. Pharma looked up into the sky, but the clouds were low, the snow too heavy for more than limited visibility deep in the canyons. Flying was too dangerous.
Beside him, Tarn was charging his pair of fusion cannons, but the first of the wargs rushed out of the swirling flakes so fast that he didn't have time to use them. It was all he could do to put a forearm in the way of its jaws so its leap was arrested on the way to his face. Pharma saw the vague shape of it, the six clawed limbs lifted to rake at Tarn's armor, the bright yellow of its acidic froth, the lashing tail— He shrank back against the cliff behind Tarn, determined to at least die last. He was surprised when the tank easily gripped the attacking warg by its neck and twisted its head off, hurling the body back out into the blizzard.
The pack must have identified Tarn as the greater threat, as they massed against him, dark shapes rising out of the weather and hurling themselves against him while Pharma cowered. A fusion cannon blast clipped one beast, but overall the weapons were useless and the tank was left fighting them claw-to-claw. Amid the rushing snow, Pharma could see only swift whirls of movement. He saw Tarn twist and then a spray of hot fluid rained down over the jet - whose blood? And then a warg's corpse was flung against the cliffside next to him and slid down, having been ripped in half along its center line. Shattered ribs lined the massive wound, framing the bright white of its spine and clumps of rent organs. Another body dropped, vermilion blood pouring out across the drifts, pooling in a lake around Pharma's feet. Tarn lifted another warg overhead and ripped it in half effortlessly. Spilled viscera rained down over his treads.
Pharma felt himself magnetized, unable to look away even as blood splattered across his face from the slaughter. A dozen or more of Messatine's top predators, feared by every living thing on the planet, neutralized so easily...though perhaps some of the blood was Tarn's, perhaps some injuries went unseen amid the snowfall. Half of a warg landed next to the jet, its tail still thrashing spasmodically as it faded into death.
Then there was a roar and the warg hive crested out of the blizzard. It towered over them, seeming to be made mostly of frothing maw and diamond-hard fangs. The armored capsules where dormant wargs were stored studded its back and its massive talons crushed the snowdrifts down beneath it. Pharma's spark sank. There was no killing such a thing.
Tarn turned to face it, and as it bore down on him, closing its jaws around him, Pharma could swear that he saw the tank leap into the monster's throat. The teeth snapped closed and the head lifted to toss its prey down its throat - and then it started to twist and scream. Suddenly, its back erupted in a welter of meat and bone fragments. Tarn climbed into view, hauling a bundle of flesh that might have been some multichambered organic fuel pump in one hand and a portion of the creature's spine in the other. The hive shook, vomiting gore, while the wargs circled confusedly around it. Finally, the beast gave one final spasm and slumped in a sea of blood. When its remote neural control expired, the remaining wargs laid down and died as one.
Tarn stood for long moments amid the steaming heat of his kill's corpse, feet planted in the burst back. He heaved, and sparks flew from the wounds that he had suffered, but he was whole overall. The snow lightened just then and Pharma could see the extent of his victory, the number of bodies flung throughout the battlefield, the casual and massive damage that Tarn had inflicted with his bare claws.
And the Autobot's body responded.
Once upon a time, Pharma had believed that he was attracted to people like himself - lithe, graceful, elegant. He had supposed that his libido had simply not been very high. But then he had met Ratchet and found such strange appeal in those thick, blocky lines, in the strength of his heavy arms as he hauled patients to safety. It was unusual for a flier like Pharma to have such tastes, but the attraction was undeniable.
Now here he was, in the middle of a blizzard, splashed down with alien blood, facing a Decepticon commander, and craving hit him like a sledgehammer. His mind was filled with images of Tarn ripping monsters in half, of Tarn tearing his way out of a superpredator from within, and the sheer power of it was overwhelming. He— He had to— He couldn't deny himself. He bared his valve and immediately began rubbing at it with both hands. He needed—
"Tarn," he called, and the Decepticon turned his masked face to glance over his shoulder. Then he did a rather spectacular doubletake. "Tarn, please, I need you." Pharma groaned with aching lust as he scrubbed his spreading opening. He needed something thick and massive inside of him, specifically something belonging to the mech in front of him. He'd take it, no matter how large it was. He desperately, desperately needed to feel himself being fucked raw by the vision of might that towered before him. How had he come to this? He never would have imagined that he would crave a warbuild - it was enough to crave Ratchet, who at least was medical. But no, Ratchet could never compare to this. Pharma braced his legs wider, leaning back against the ice cliff, and angled his valve toward the one that he longed for.
"D... Doctor?" Tarn asked. Did his voice waver?
"Tarn, please," Pharma said, struggling to keep his own voice steady. "I need you inside me. Right now."
Tarn stepped out of the meat crater in the hive's body and slowly approached. Up close, the evidence of his fight was even more intense, and Pharma felt himself dripping freely over his fingers at the sight. Armor hung askew, partly ripped from the endoskeleton. Purple paint, where it was visible through sheets of blood, ran and bubbled from washes of acidic drool. Even his mask was scarred anew, gashed and melted. Two rows of treads were simply gone. Pharma rubbed himself harder and distractedly noticed that steam was rising from the wet heat of his internals. "Please fuck me," he choked, careless of decorum, careless of faction and implications and the future. He had to have all that power between his thighs, and he needed it ten minutes ago. He needed it even before that, during the fight, when the force of the Decepticon's body had been on full display. Pharma had to get fucked right there, amid the slaughter and the freezing gore and the corpses that Tarn had wrought.
Tarn stopped far enough away that he nearly seemed cautious. He kept his head turned aside, as if too embarrassed to look directly at the Autobot. "You realize that we're—"
"I don't care. Get in me." Pharma hooked two fingers into his hole and spread it wide, displaying the bright biolights inside and the stretch that he hoped would accommodate Tarn's no-doubt-fantastic girth.
"We shouldn't—"
"Don't give me excuses, get inside."
Tarn looked hesitantly from one side to the other, as if hoping that someone would come out of the snowfall and take charge of the situation, but then his willpower clearly collapsed. He approached, snowdrifts parting around his powerful legs in a way that made Pharma moan. Clawed hands wrapped around the jet's thighs and hefted him easily - so easily, so deliciously easily - up the side of the ice cliff. Pharma heard panels transforming away and the sound of a spike extending and he whimpered with lust. The strong hands held his legs well apart and the head of a thick erection nosed at his valve. Pharma grabbed at it, feeling how delightfully thick it was - thicker than anything that he'd ever taken, but he didn't care if he ruptured something. This sex was worth it.
Tarn started to slide inside of him and Pharma's mind completely escaped him. "You're so huge!" he cried. "You're so good! It's so good, you're so— You're so thick, so strong, so powerful, oh Primus—"
"You're insane," Tarn commented, but he didn't stop pushing forward into the Autobot's body. Protomatter stretched to its absolute limit, its nodes driven back into the walls of the valve as the hole became overstuffed with spike. Finally, Tarn was fully seated, his engine growling and his head lolling as he savored the tightness around him. Sparks from his injuries flickered across Pharma's armor, and that was delicious too, all that evidence of the battle and how mighty Tarn was for bearing up underneath such damage so easily. The tank started to thrust, going harder and harder by the moment.
"Please yes," Pharma cried helplessly, utterly overcome by Tarn's power. "Please yes. Oh, please yes. Show me how strong you are, don't hold back, please, give me everything—"
Tarn released one of Pharma's legs and punched his claws into the ice cliff. He near-effortlessly ripped a chunk out of it the size of his own head. "Strong enough for you?" he asked.
Pharma was so overcome that he wept as he instantly climaxed, valve dribbling freely onto the snow as his whole body hitched around that perfect warrior shaft.
Tarn groaned, dropping the ice chunk and regaining his grip on the leg as he thrust even harder, shoving Pharma's turbine up and down the cliff behind him as the spike slammed into him. Pharma was screaming wth bliss, incoherent words spilling from him as he begged to contain all of that mighty power inside his frail, needy body.
Finally, Tarn dragged Pharma downward, spearing him hard on the long, thick cable inside of him before releasing his spill deep within. He roared as he came, and Pharma clutched his breastplate, heedless of the enemy brand there as he savored the vibrations of the sound through his armor. Tarn's ejaculate overflowed him quickly, raining down onto the drifts below them in a shower of fertile silver. Pharma went limp, destroyed by raw pleasure, and Tarn held him up against the cliff for long moments, partly collapsed against him, as both of them recovered.
The tank eventually pulled free and gently lowered the Autobot to the ground. Pharma felt distinctly wide inside. Good. He licked his lips as he looked over Tarn's ravaged body, already fantasizing about a second round.
"How lucky for me that I've found myself in this situation with a doctor nearby," Tarn commented, his tone light and formal as if he were trying to regain some control over the situation. "I'm in need of more than a few repairs."
"You were just taking me back to your ship," Pharma reminded him.
"Ah... Yes. Yes, I was."
Pharma wasn't going to let him get as far as his ship. He was going to jump that spike on the shuttle. Before they took off, after, he didn't care. He would jump it on a plane. He would jump it on a train. He would jump it here or there. He would jump it anywhere.
Was this what love felt like?
"We should get going, then," Pharma suggested before daringly sliding his hand into Tarn's.
Tarn looked down at it with surprise, clearly shaken off balance but once again finding his willpower lacking when it mattered. "Yes," he said, a little astonished. "Yes, I suppose we should."