Title: Indulgent Seduction
Warnings: Mech x mech, slash, detailed sexual activities
Disclaimers: Definitely doesn't belong to me or well, you can imagine the possibilities. ;)
Fair warning, I'm an avid Transformers fan but it's been years since I've watched G1. I just recently bought season one. So yes, some things are probably wrong and yes, some are out of character but I couldn't resist. :D I could hardly get the plot bunnies out of my head and this story came to be. I'm sure there are parallels between my story and a couple of other writers of Transformers slash on but I will try to keep it original. No infringement on purpose. ^_^
Hot Rod didn't quite know what to think of the ARK or of the Autobots that he'd spent most of his young life idolizing. Seriously, who hadn't heard of Optimus Prime or Ratchet the Hatchet? Or of Jazz, quite possibly the coolest mech that Hot Rod had ever met. And then there was Prowl-a hard aft tactician that was about as much fun as a stick in the mud (of course, that was a human expression and Hot Rod wasn't quite brushed up on his human terminology to know exactly what that meant.) And little Bumblebee with his shy smiles and happy go lucky attitude that just seemed out of place in a time of war-Hot Rod was secretly delighted with the smaller mech's unfailingly kind and upbeat personality.
Hot Rod paused in scanning the mechs that were off duty in the rec room to land on the two that had, so far, not gone out of their ways to be friendly towards. In all honesty, they'd been openly hostile with him from the beginning. Sideswipe wasn't nearly as intimidating as his twin but he was disdainful with him on the few occasions that he actually spoke to him. Hot Rod's optics fell on the narcissistic, egocentric, aggressive mech that many of the mechs onboard the ARK had warned him of. While Sunstreaker might have been extremely easy on the optics-in fact, he was probably the most attractive bot that Hot Rod had ever seen but his charming personality was the pits. He was bigger then his brother with a temper to match his build. Hot Rod had heard enough stories that revolved around the twins to know that they were each promiscuous but that they were packaged deal. And Hot Rod had the sinking suspicion that most of the mechs that had gotten involved with the twins were more interested in Sideswipe but had to deal with Sunstreaker in order to interface with Sideswipe. It must have been depressing for Sunstreaker.
"If ya keep starin', he'll notice," Jazz's friendly voice snapped Hot Rod from ogling Sunstreaker, the yellow mech, not even phased as he downed high grade at an alarming pace. "Or maybe not. Yea, he's pretty but…" Jazz trailed off, propping his legs up on the table that he and Hot Rod were at, "So where's Springer? Ya hardly let him outta your site."
"That was before he and Arcee started seeing each other." That blow had him hard. The three had been the closest of friends but now every time he was around them he felt like the third wheel.
"Ah. You're not exactly a bad lookin' mech yourself," Jazz chuckled, "I'm sure ya could land just about any bot here."
"That's funny," Hot Rod dead panned, wondering exactly how much Jazz had consumed. Sure, Hot Rod knew that he was appealing to the optics; he'd been told that on numerous occasions during his short life but that didn't mean that he'd allow just anyone to 'face with him just because they complimented him. "And I thought you were more interested in Prowl."
"Cute but Prowler ain't interested. Word of advice, Roddi," Jazz slung a companionable arm across Hot Rod's shoulders, "Don't even bother with Sunny. And don't go chasin' Sides either. They're bad business."
"That sounds like personal experience," Hot Rod grumbled, ignoring the sudden flash of jealously. That was hardly called for.
"You won't find many bots that ain't been with 'em," Jazz's grin was predatory as he rose from his spot, "An' I think I'm gonna give our resident tactician a house call."
Hot Rod knew that Jazz was winking underneath his visor as the second in command slinked from the rec room to no doubt pester Prowl. He wondered how long it would take for the two to stop dancing around each other and finally admit they loved one another. He hadn't been on Earth for very long but it hadn't taken him much time to figure out that the feelings between Prowl and Jazz was more then platonic.
"Don't touch me!" a harsh voice cut through the happy chatter, all activities ceasing as Sunstreaker was suddenly on his feet with one hand curled into a fist, his dark blue optics narrowed in absolute fury at Sideswipe.
"Sunny…" Sideswipe started to reach for his brother again, the pain that darted across the red mech's visage was heart breaking. "Please."
Hot Rod stared after Sunstreaker as he stormed from the rec room, changing into his alt form to speed down the corridors. Hot Rod glanced at Sideswipe, not surprised that there were several willing mechs offering their audios-or their bodies, it wouldn't have astonished Hot Rod. He quickly slunk from the room, glad that he was being ignored by the mechs that were lounging inside. Everyone was so quick to leap to Sides' comfort but no one ever went after Sunstreaker. Probably because they were terrified of his temper tantrums. Hot Rod had seen enough of them to know that what he was about to do was suicidal.
He geared himself for the beating of his life as he knocked on the twin's door. "Go. Away," the deep, husky voice grated angrily from the other side, the ire mixing with a melancholy that Hot Rod didn't think could emit from the large bot.
Slag it. I might as well get it over with. Hot Rod tested the access code that he'd accidentally come across and was surprised when it immediately opened. "What the frag do you want, boy?" Sunstreaker snarled, clearly pissed off at being interrupted, especially by none other then Hot Rod. Hot Rod figured that he was the last bot in the universe that Sunstreaker wanted to see.
"Well, I saw you take off and um, here I am," Hot Rod weakly said, knowing he sounded pathetic to his own audios. "…I thought you know, if you want, you could talk about it."
"With you?" Sunny laughed self deprecatingly. "That's rich. You don't even know me, kid."
"Stop with the boy and kid stuff," Hot Rod scowled irritably, crossing one of his arms in front of his chassis. "I'm not a sparkling. Look, I saw you run out of there upset and figured I'd be the bigger mech and come to you. Primus knows that Sideswipe's getting enough comfort," Hot Rod muttered off handedly.
"Doesn't he always?" Sunstreaker asked rhetorically, eyeing the younger mech warily. "My dear brother's always been too popular for his own good."
"…I can listen unbiased to anything that you have to say. I haven't known you long enough to really form an opinion about you," Hot Rod said, only partly lying. The two of them had had enough altercations but they were mainly violent. The only input that he'd gotten about Sunstreaker's personality was from other mechs. He would wait until he made his own opinion of the volatile mech.
"You're persistent," Sunstreaker smirked, "Don't you know that being alone with me is dangerous?" he hissed the last word, crossing the expanse of the room in several long legged strides, lips curled into a feral leer.
Hot Rod stood his ground, even when he could feel the warmth radiating from Sunstreaker's frame, could nearly smell the energon that had intoxicated the other Autobot. "Nothing's wrong with a little danger," he remarked casually, proud of himself for not betraying the nervous fear that was welling inside of him.
"Oh, really?" Sunstreaker grabbed Hot Rod by one of his arms and roughly shoved him across the room to land ungracefully on the berth. "Scared yet?"
"Do I have a reason to be?" Hot Rod asked, watching Sunstreaker like a mouse caught underneath a hawk's glare, not positive of the beautiful mech's intentions.
Sunstreaker stood over the berth, taking in the stunning mech's position. His legs were spread wide and he was bracing himself with his hands, elbow joints slightly bent. He wasn't used to this. Sideswipe was the only one that could placate his roughness, could balance his raw wants with tenderness. The few times that he'd interfaced without Sides it hadn't been pleasant and his partners had run from him. And he knew without a doubt that the only reason he saw any action these days was because Sides wouldn't let anyone near him unless they were willing to take both of them. They were a packaged deal. But here this delicious mech was sprawled erotically on his berth and Sideswipe wasn't even present. "Yes."
"Too bad for you that I'm not," Hot Rod smirked, hating that the dangerous appeal about Sunstreaker was causing him all sorts of vivid imagery; he'd never completely interfaced before. There had been a few hesitant gropes with his fellow bots but nothing that had escalated into full out interfacing. But here he was picturing Sunstreaker taking him roughly, slamming into him the berth, and giving him probably the best sex that he'd ever experience. There was just something innately erotic about the belligerent mech that sung to Hot Rod like a Siren. If this went as far as Hot Rod was beginning to hope, it went against all of his own personal morals and codes.
"Is that so?" Sunstreaker cocked an eye ridge, easing himself onto the berth, pinning Hot Rod down with his hands. He nestled himself in between Hot Rod's open legs and could hardly contain the excited shiver that wound down his frame. Maybe Hot Rod wouldn't turn away in fear when things got a little too heated. "We start this…we finish it," he warned, faceplate mere inches from Hot Rod's.
"I don't plan on leaving any time soon," Hot Rod said in a low tone, bringing one hand up to caress the yellow mech's lips. "You're too slagging hot for me to say no," he murmured, optics widening when Sunstreaker started to suck on one of his fingers.
"I haven't…haven't been with anyone by myself in a long, long time," Sunstreaker admitted softly, ignoring the momentary guilt that he was betraying his twin but this was a rare occurrence; someone wanted him without the presence of Sideswipe. That Hot Rod was drawn to him, wanted him, not his brother. That Hot Rod wasn't with him merely to gain favor with Sideswipe.
Hot Rod could have reassured Sunstreaker that this was his first time but he had the feeling that Sunstreaker wouldn't let it continue. That and Sunstreaker was three sheets to the wind. It was a depressing thought that Sunstreaker probably wouldn't even remember most of the night come the morning. But Sunstreaker's hands on his sides was distracting and oh so close to the spoiler on his lower back-"Oh, Sunny!" he moaned, back arching flush against the yellow mech's chassis as those talented hands stroked the tail fin.
"Feel good?" Sunstreaker breathed, fascinated by the amount of lust in Hot Rod's bright blue optics, by the mewling whimpers and gratuitous moans eliciting from that delicious mouth as Hot Rod rubbed frantically against his chassis. His fucking paint was smeared with red and orange but Sunstreaker far too inebriated to give a damn-that, and the bot underneath him was driving his sensors insane.
"Prime, yes!" Hot Rod snapped, giving into the desire running rampant throughout his body, as he used his strength to flip their positions, startling Sunstreaker. Straddling Sunstreaker's hips, he couldn't stop himself from gazing in awe at the beautiful, stunning, sexy, golden mech beneath him. How could anyone prefer Sideswipe over his brother?
"Are you going to touch me or stare at me?" Sunstreaker asked, finding his voice, the momentary shock at being handled so roughly parting. He'd enjoyed it far more then he would have suspected; none of his other partners had been so aggressive with him.
"I don't know if I can wait much longer," Hot Rod said, feeling like his body was already on the verge of short circuiting as his optics drank in the erotic sight of Sunstreaker sprawled lazily underneath him, turquoise optics regarding him with more lust then Hot Rod had ever seen directed at him.
"Do whatever you want to," Sunstreaker all but purred.
Hot Rod's fans kicked on at that statement, cooling his rapidly heating body. He leaned down and trapped Sunstreaker's lips in a searing kiss, glossa tangling in a passionate embrace that had them both moaning. Hot Rod felt Sunstreaker's hands ghosting along his chassis, heading directly to his interface port. "Don't hold back," he murmured, knowing that Sunstreaker was probably just as nervous as he was. The horror stories he'd heard about being caught alone with Sunstreaker while engaging in pleasurable acts usually started upon the first seconds of full, blown out interfacing. "I won't break."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I can take it," Hot Rod firmly snapped, guiding the other mech's hands to open his port, lubricant already leaking. He should have been embarrassed; he'd never been aroused enough to have lubricant weeping from his port. Then again…he'd never gotten this far before either. A finger slid inside and he almost screamed. "Sunstreaker," he moaned the other mech's name like he was a god, unable to look away from that lustful face, unable to do anything but hold himself up as Sunstreaker added another finger.
Sunstreaker had had more partners in his long life then he cared to remember; probably three quarters of the base had been bedded by him. But he'd never felt like this and he'd definitely never had a lover that was as licentious as Hot Rod. The way that Hot Rod almost rode his fingers…Sunstreaker removed his fingers, temperature raising even higher at the amount of lubricant that was on his digits and dripping from Hot Rod's port. His fragile connection to sanity started to slip as arousal engulphed him.
The older mech slammed Hot Rod against the berth, the wildness in Sunstreaker's optics startling Hot Rod for a few seconds before fear turned into raw want. Sunstreaker's movements were quick and methodical as he opened his interface port, a slick cable protruding-the size nearly sending Hot Rod into a fritz. Sunstreaker roughly pinned him down, fingers leaving deep scratches in his shoulder armor, as he thrust the cable roughly into Hot Rod's port. Hot Rod wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker's neck, hanging on tightly, as Sunstreaker pounded into him relentlessly. Each pummel was enough to shake the berth beneath them.
Their grunts and groans filled the room, getting louder and louder with each passing minute, and one of Sunstreaker's hands was stroking his spoiler none too gently, leaving Hot Rod a shuddering mess. He could feel the overload coming on and he hated for this to end but it was too much for him. His optics were offlined as he threw his head back and screamed his release. He could faintly hear Sunstreaker shaky moans as he overloaded at the same time. He hissed in pain as Sunstreaker collapsed on him, interface cable still attached to him, the larger mech on the verge of slipping into recharge.
"Sunny, move," Hot Rod elbowed him in the side, receiving a grumpy look from him. He detached the cable himself and tucked it securely back where it belonged. Sunstreaker scowled darkly at him.
"Where are you going?" Sunstreaker asked harshly, dragging Hot Rod by the arm, the younger mech landing on top of him.
"You aren't even going to remember this tomorrow, Sunstreaker," Hot Rod said bitterly, knowing this had just been the high grade that Sunstreaker had consumed that had led him to doing anything with him. "And that hurts the most. My first interface was with a drunk. Great," he sighed, unable to budge from underneath Sunstreaker's solid grip on him, smiling sadly. Sunstreaker was already in recharge.
"Slag it," Hot Rod frowned, too tired to extricate from Sunstreaker's hold. Even if his first experience had been with an inebriated aft hole, well, it had been fucking awesome. He just wondered how he was going to explain all the dents, scratches, and yellow paint all over his frame. Especially to Sideswipe.
Neither noticed they were being watched.
So, I can't believe I actually wrote that. O_O My eyes!!! XD Leave me a review and let me know. Because I have about thirty pages already typed up and ready to go. :P