Things We Don't Tell Humans Spinoff:
Behind Berthroom Walls
Chapter 31.5: Leader
Author's Note: You will need to read TWDTH for some of the contexts that you will find in this mature scene outtake, as these are quite literally cutting-room-floor outtakes. This particular one has been kicking around in the back of my head for months. I blame these two for their insatiability. Blasted Bonded couples making my headspace a smarmy Pit of rutting alien robots.
If you don't like M-Rated stuff, skip this story entirely, you're not missing anything more than the reuniting of two Bondmates making my life harder by making me write this. Furthermore, you're not missing anything aside from their romantic and erotic sides of what the couples do behind berthroom walls.
Also! Please remember that I have a poll still going on! It's located on my Bio page!
Warnings: Tactile arousal, Spark-sex, plug-n-play. You know, what I've stated as the usual fashion of "getting it on" in TWDTH, only this time, you get to see some things first-hand.
Hands skittered over the surface of armor plating, bringing a shudder to the mech as he imagined those hands finding sensitive wires and nodes. He sighed, turning and looking at his mate with a half-pleading gaze when they didn't stop the re-exploration of his frame. Granted, it always had changed whenever they landed upon a new dirtball, but he was trying to work here! He had duties to the humans, and he was the only one not shunning duty to reunite with his mate.
The cunning cerulean gaze met his own with playful intention, and a teasing shove of love-love-lust-desire-please over the Bond between their Sparks flooded his frame with secondhand arousal. It had been far too long since they had been together.
Large shoulders sagged in defeat, and his voice growled out quietly so as not to be overheard by the few humans who were still up and about before mechs and their commander went out on a short leave, "There are no places left, femme! Everyone has found their own secluded corner to re-Bond themselves, and until we fly out, we don't have space!"
~You can lock the door and speak outside of human hearing.~
She was not giving up.
~Dearspark, brightest of all stars—~
~Make love to me.~
~Here. Now.~ Her hand skipped under armor at his hip, finding a bundle of wires that surrounded a hotspot node, sending a magnetic pulse to the deeper node out of her grasp. At his muffled moan of appreciation, the femme murmured over their Bond, ~Lock the doors.~
With a spat of code, Optimus Prime whirled and picked up his newly-reunited femme, feeling her knees hook over the wheels locked onto his hips and help support her own weight. Elita chuckled her approval of such a move, but wished that she could have played with the delicate gyros located in his ankles. His legs, which made up for almost half of his impressive height, were understandably lined with points that could cause her lover to overload without Spark-touch. The mech claimed her mouth, living metal lips that were not quite matched in size doing what they could to match in arousal. ~It has been so hard without you, Brightspark. I woke up from dreams with my Spark aching for your touch, for feeling your mind against mine, your Spark joining my own again and again . . .~
~Hush. No more, Orion. It's only us now. Now, here, and forever.~
It was corny, it was cheesy, it was wonderfully endearing, and his Spark pulsed brightly at the need that Elita expressed for him. Sonar locating the "berth" that Ratchet had set up in this hangar for the use of a mech who needed desperately to rest, he murmured, ~I want to do this properly.~
~Funny,~ Elita retorted, ~I just want to feel your hands tangled up in my wires, your mind on the cusp of overload, and your Spark straining to be One with my own. Proper behavior and decorum be smelted; I want my mate to take me and possess me.~
Growling at the swiftly-rising levels of his desire for his other half, Optimus walked over to the thick-foam-lined berth and settled on it, his back to the wall, Elita perched over his lap. Stroking her face, pressing his forehead to hers and letting his hands play over her frame, he murmured the endearments that he had said the very first time their Sparks touched, their first night as Bonded. As she arched into his hands, her chest brushing against his, Elita murmured the replies she had made, reaffirming their Bond to one another. His hands stroked up along the outside armor of graceful thighs before dragging down over her seams of inner thighs.
Hissing her pleasure, Elita let her fingers dance over his ports. She wanted him now. She wanted him now.
And he didn't disappoint, hardline cables unfurling from under armor plates from his forearms. And she found that he had been thinking about her reactions in their many years of separation as he didn't immediately direct them to plug in, but instead let the interface cables trace and tangle their way over the sensory nodes she had revealed for him. Crying out, she irised her ports open, shoving her cables home into his open ports at the same moment that he slipped into her mind, arms slightly hindered from free movement by the need to embrace one another while hardlined.
Hot desire spilled from his mind into her compatible thoughts, only to be looped back and hitting him with blindsided passion. Optimus grunted while coolant and energon began to race through his systems, optics off as he curled his head down to rest upon a pink shoulder-guard. She poured her love into him, her pent-up lust igniting all his sensors as ghost-touches made his body think that she was actually touching the places she couldn't reach. His ankles and the pistons at his calf began to tremble with the force of her presence in his mind. Sudden, unexpected overload took him from his eons of abstinence without the company of his other half.
Panting, chestplates cracked open, he found himself reduced to the simple mech he missed being, feeling the contentment of his one-and-only as she lounged against his plating, momentarily sated. Both knew that it wouldn't be long before one or the other began the cycle again. So Orion took the initiative and traced his fingers suggestively over the glowing opening between his chestplates, energy dripping from his fingers in a trail of light as he pressed his hand over the armor protecting Ariel's Spark.
She revealed herself willingly, blue gaze snapping to black as large, blunt fingers best meant for war traced reverently over the semi-translucent casing of her Spark. He drew her pleasure out, making her writhe and moan from the sensation of his energy-field so close to her Spark, but the source of his life wasn't close enough! She couldn't worm her way forward as his nimble motions brought her to the edge, cooled her down, and then pushed her into star-studded climax with deft mag-pulses aimed masterfully towards her cores and wiring.
As Elita recovered, floating gently between the present reality and heaven, Orion whispered sweet nothings, feeling her moan of sated appreciation before she voiced it. Smiling, he pulled his chestplates wide apart and curled the pink frame of his Bondmate flush to his systems.
Her Spark spilled into his own.
They were lost in a sea of impassioned togetherness that spun wildly faster and harder until there was
Lennox keyed open the door absently, proof-reading a file regarding the femmes arrival and how it wouldn't be affecting much of their chain of command or effectiveness in the field in the least. "Optimus, I want to make sure that I have human-translated designations transcribed—What the hell, guys?"
Elita rested against the cracked-open chestplates of a languid and smug Prime, her own plates and cables still evidence of lovemaking.
Facepalming and turning around, Lennox walked back towards the exit. "For the love of God, Prime, if you're gonna use our office for ensuring that your femme is happy, warn me. That, or break the damn codes on the doors. Damn."
Once he was gone, grumbling under his breath, Elita looked up at Optimus with a grin. "I like your human counterpart. Reminds me of you. Mm. I suppose we'll have more time on the main continent to continue this."
"I suppose so," he rumbled, agreeing with her.
"I suppose that you also are expected to reassure human troops."
"I . . . suppose."
"I suppose we can delay both."
His subsonic rumble of approval was all she needed to hear before pressing her chest to his own.