Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
It wasn't Hot Rod who needed high grade to settle his nerves, as the humans said. No. Optimus Prime took a sip, glancing around his quarters. Technically not his quarters anymore, hadn't really been in a while, not since he started sharing them with Hot Rod. More to the point, how the younger mech let him move back into the quarters that were once his. That made no sense, Optimus thought. Not really. Sort of. The space they mutually occupied was his before he died, becoming Hot Rod's while he was Matrix-bearer. Then, somewhere between the aftermath of the hate plague and now, they were sharing quarters, and were about share much, much more.
Almost two years had passed since his fateful battle with Megatron; a year since the hate plague and his return. A short span of time for their species, but long enough for Optimus and Hot Rod to reach a conclusion regarding their relationship. Now, they'd reached the point of no return, as far as Optimus was concerned. His whole "let's take it slow" idea was now out the window. No changing his mind now, and definitely not Hot Rod's. Of course, the cocky pain in the aft was sitting there on the edge of the berth beside him, smiling behind his cube of high grade. Damn. He felt his spark doing backflips in his chest, seeing that smile, just for him. Optimus set his container of high grade down, reached over, taking Hot Rod's from him.
"About time you decided to get down to business," Hot Rod said.
Optimus gave Hot Rod a gentle shove back onto his berth. The younger mech grabbed his wrist, pulling him down with him. The Autobot leader leaned over, settling himself over the smaller frame. Hot Rod reached up, kissing Optimus, who reciprocated, pushing his glossa gently against Hot Rod's lips. He let him slip inside, and Hot Rod followed the action gently with his own.
Optimus smiled inwardly. Hot Rod learned quickly, and for his relative inexperience in this aspect of life, his response was more than enthusiastic. Before the night was over, they would be one, as it was meant to be, as they both wanted. Time and circumstance had separated them during the past year, and once he was back, he realized just how much the younger mech meant to him, and seen how much his being gone had affected Hot Rod.
He continued kissing Hot Rod, then trailed down his jaw, neck and back to his lips, running his free hand down the young bot's body until his hand made contact with Hot Rod's thighs. He pulled back again, this time half-sitting, running both hands over the thighs and lower abdomen. Hot Rod arched against him, sat up, wanting to be closer.
"Lay back," Optimus said. Hot Rod did as he was told (for once), optics dark, as Optimus had never seen them before.
Hot Rod gasped as he felt the big hand run over his body, then down over the plating covering his interface valve. He couldn't help himself as the plating clicked open of its own volition. And before he could do anything else, Optimus gently slipped two fingers barely inside him, started to move the tips of his fingers gently around the circumference of the untouched valve.
Hot Rod whimpered audibly, arched his hips up, clearly wanting more.
Optimus looked down, smiled at Hot Rod's reaction.
"If you like this, how do you think it will feel when I'm finally inside you?" he asked.
"Amazing," Hot Rod said.
He slipped the fingers inside again, then out, noticed although Hot Rod was so very tight, he was already ready because of the mech fluid covering his fingers. He pushed his fingers in, then out, watched as Hot Rod started to thrust gently against his hand. He reached down, grabbed the young mech, stilling him.
He pushed his fingers in once more, further, feeling Hot Rod's intact barrier.
"This is going to hurt," Optimus said.
"I know," Hot Rod said. "But it doesn't matter."
Satisfied, Optimus willed his own plating to part, revealing his spike. Hot Rod stared down at it--a mix of curiosity and anticipation in his optics.
Optimus once again covered Hot Rod's frame, only this time he guided the tip of his spike into Hot Rod's valve. He reached down, kissed the young mech, pushing his spike further as he went, stopping when he felt the barrier at its tip.
He pulled away again. "Wrap your legs around me."
Hot Rod did as he was told, this time completely wrapped around Optimus' body.
Optimus kissed him again, fiercer this time, and at the same time, rammed his spike home.
Hot Rod writhed beneath him, startled at the pain.
"It's all right," Optimus said.
"It stings. . ."
"I know, but it will pass. Trust me. Your body just needs time to adjust. . ."
He watched as Hot Rod shuttered his optics a few seconds. The young mech was amazed that he finally had what he wanted--Optimus. yes, at the moment, it hurt, but he knew it wouldn't for long. And he was right. Optimus started to move gently--at first, to try and stretch his valve.
But he couldn't hold back any longer. They'd both waited so long. . .
Finally, he could feel the charge building between their bodies, then Hot Rod shuddering around him, and his own release came, crying out as he did. He collapsed on top of Hot Rod.
"Why did you wait so long?" he finally asked, nuzzling Hot Rod's neck.
"I never wanted anything as much as I wanted you. . ."
He raised up, kissed him again. "Any regrets?"