Tectonic Tremblings

Pairing: DriftxPerceptor

Rating: R/MA+

Warnings: Smut. Smut. SMUT!

Description: Perceptor is always working himself to death and Drift decides to force the scientist to take a break. The hard way.

He was hovering again.

He did that when he got bored. I couldn't understand why he didn't just leave me to my work; he could stay in his room and I would find him once I was finished. No, he insisted on waiting for me to finish, in my lab, while I was trying to get important work done.

"Perceptor," his smooth, deep vocalizer lilts from over my left shoulder. "You've been working all day. It's time for a break."

I don't move from my spot. "I'm almost done," I whisper, completely focused on my project. Ratchet had specifically asked for a new plasma-scapel and seeing that we didn't have one anywhere on base, it was up to me to make one. It was relatively easy work but it was time consuming.

"You said that an hour ago," Drift sighs, exasperated. He wasn't the most patient mech on base but he was usually better than this.

"If you are bored then go wait for me somewhere else." It's the only outcome for this because I still had another hour, at least, with the tool before it was complete. Ratchet hadn't said to finish it today but I liked to finish work in one sitting.

A deep growl cuts the air just before I was being grabbed up by strong servos. The yelp that escapes from my derma was embarrassing as I am thrown over the white mech's shoulder easily. "No, you're taking a break," he commands firmly, usually such a calm mech.

"Drift, put me down!" I cry out, highly mortified as we pass through the doors of the laboratory into the hallways. Anyone could walk by and see my compromising situation. Drift didn't say anything more as he marched me through the hallways, ignoring the looks, laughs and playful jibes our teammates threw at us.

He didn't say a thing to anyone, including myself, until he threw me down on his berth. I tried to get up only to find him pinning me down with his body weight, our faces mere inches away from each other. My faceplate heats when I feel his hips sidle in-between my legs, spreading my thighs so that his panel could lightly brush mine. Warmth flooded from every inch that his body touched mine, a conditioned response that I had yet to dispel.

Without a word, one large servo pins both my wrists to the berth before he reaches into his subspace with the other. "Drift, what are you-" my words cut off as he pulls a long length of chain from the small space. My optics widen in slight fear just before he is tying my wrists down to the berth. "Let me go!" I demand weakly, tugging at the chain pointlessly.

"No," he finally speaks, sitting up to stare down at me. His beautiful blue optics flash with raw lust at the embarrassing picture I made. Our interfacing had always been rough but I never thought he'd go as far as to restrain me. "You do so much for other people, Perceptor, it's time for you to take a break."

His vocalizer dipped a little deeper, sending shivers of pleasure down my spinal struts. There was promise hidden in that sentence and I couldn't help but flinch as his servos touch my spark chamber. He leans down, looming over me with his much larger frame; it was something that I would never admit to being turned on by. His derma press little kisses across my faceplate, marking a trail of fire to my audio receptor. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispers, sending trills of heat down to my interface panel.

I never would have pegged Drift as the dirty-talking kind of mech but I was sorely mistaken. Honestly, I had never pegged myself as the type of mech to be turned on by that kind of talk…yet again, I was sorely mistaken. He wasn't much of a verbal mech most other times but I couldn't help thinking he saved all of his words for me. It was foolish to think that way but he was never short of words with me.

My thoughts cut off when his derma catch mine in a searing, processor-frying kiss. It was rough and demanding but I always found myself allowing him to dominate me like this. Denta nipped at my lower derma, demanding entrance that I gladly gave over. His glossa invaded my oral cavity, stealing the air right out of my vents until my fans had to kick on to cool my frame.

He pulled away after a few long minutes of contact but doesn't give me a respite before his denta are nipping at my neck cables. "A-Ah!" I jerk my hips up involuntarily into his. Pleasure, liquid and molten, slips through my system as the mech slips down lower and lower, finding all of the spots that make my processor hazy. "D-Drift!"

His glossa slips into a seam just below my spark chamber to tease the ultra sensitive nodes there making me whimper as my processor starts stalling. His fingers drift down to press into my hip joint, automatically finding the manual switch that opens my panel. The cool air of the room caresses my pressurized spike like a physical touch, causing me to buck up against the mech over me.

"Patience, Perceptor," he breathes, seemingly unaffected by all of this. His still-closed panel grazes against the underside of my spike teasingly, making me arch into him desperately. My processor was so fried that I didn't hear his panel snick open until his spike was rubbing against mine.

Sparks of intense pleasure ricocheted through my processor and I'm not sure I will survive this interface session. I feel his fingers trailing down my frame, followed closely by his glossa, just before I'm being penetrated. My scream was dangerously loud but I couldn't hold myself back as he thrusts his digit into me.

It was an overwhelming amount of pleasure even as a second finger was pressed into my tight valve. My overload was so tantalizingly close, I could taste the energy on my glossa. "Drift, p-please!" I finally beg, bucking my hips into his fingers to get more friction.

I was on the edge just as his fingers were pulled away. My offended groan was captured by the mech's derma, teasing my valve with the tip of his spike. I lift my legs to wrap around his thin waist, trying desperately to pull him closer. "Slow down," he teases, leaning over to lick at my telescope lense lightly. I tug on my binds, helpless; I wanted to touch him, anything to eleviate my painful desire. "Tell me what you want, Percy."

My face flushed darkly in embarrassment but I was so lost in my pleasure, I didn't care. "Primus, Drift, s-spike me, please!" I cry out, reduced to begging for his spike. His complete and utter dominance over me was humiliating, yes, but I found that it encouraged the throbbing of my valve.

"Since you asked so nicely," he growls before burying his spike in my valve with one powerful thrust. My derma part but no sound is produced and he doesn't let me rest before he is slamming into me. "Frag, you're so tight…" His voice, deep and laden with lust, increases my arousal; the heels of my pedes digging into his back to pull him closer.

"Primus!" I wail, clenching the chain within my servos helplessly. "T-The chains…please!" It's about as close to coherent thought as I can get but he understands. His fingers release my wrists then shifts us so that he is on his knees, holding me up under my knees.

My servos dig into his shoulders as he lowers me down onto his spike so slowly, allowing very part of his ribbed phallus to drag across the nodes inside my valve. I moan, needing more friction, and trying to push down against his spike hopelessly. "Ah, ah, not until you tell me," he chides into my audio receptor.

My processor resists until he pulls all the way out, dragging his spike across the rim of my valve deliberately. Pride be damned… "More, Drift! I need more!" I plead shamelessly.

My back lands on the berth just before I scream with pleasure. His hips snap forward, hard and fast, working me, finally, to my overload. "Like that?" he teases, optics open to catch mine in a confident staring contest.

"Primus, yes!" I cry, clinging to his shoulders as his thrusts rock my form roughly. "Don't stop!"

If anything, he goes harder and it isn't until his thrusts become quick and shallow that I grow close to the edge again. I arch into him, so close…so close… "Drift, I'm so-" my vocalizer glitches when his glossa runs across my neck cables and I am shoved off the edge into my overload.

He gives one more shallow thrust and I feel his hot transfluid fill my valve. Our bodies spasm as wave after wave of overload clash against our systems, slowly dying down until Drift pulls out to lie on his side next to me. I flutter my optics online, not even aware that I had offlined them, to stare at him.

"The chains were highly unnecessary," I whisper, vocalizer sore from use.

His blue optics flutter online to stare at me incredulously. "Don't pretend it didn't rev your engine," he teases, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer. I turn over to face away from him but he just presses a servo to my abdomen to pull my aft back against his warm panel. "Don't be like that, Percy. Admit that it made your valve all wet for me to tie you down."

His vocalizer was husky from the interface session and dipped low, soothing across my audio receptors like silk. It made my faceplate flush lightly in embarrassment. He read me so easily sometimes. "No, I don't," I lie, hoping he bought it.

I don't even have time register his lightning fast movement before I find myself with my front pressed into the berth, his servos pinning my wrists down again. My faceplate flushes even as my throbbing valve is suddenly lubricated with a rush of pleasure. His finger dips into my hip joint to unlock my panel without hesitation even as I protest weakly, struggling to get away. He leans forward, covering my body with his, allowing his fingers to touch my valve lightly. "You're soaked, Perceptor," he states the obvious, his vented air brushing my neck cables. "I've barely even touched you. Admit it, you enjoy being dominated."

My faceplate burns and I bury it into the berth, embarrassed. "Yes," I whisper, the sound muffled by the cushioned berth.

"What?" he coaxes, gently nipping at my neck cables. "I can't hear you."

"Yes," I say, pulling my mouth away from the berth.

His glossa dips into my neck cables to tease hidden sensor arrays. "Lift your hips up a little," he commands, pulling away a bit so that I can get to my knees. I tried to lift up on my servos but he keeps a servo firmly planted between my shoulders. "No, I like this view so much better." His servos palm my aft, stroking across the contours but skirting around my valve even though I had lubrication dripping down my thighs.

My legs were trembling with pleasure as my previously spent spike starts to pressurize again. "Drift," I whisper breathlessly.

"I'm going to frag you all night, Percy," he rasps into my audio receptor slowly. It made my valve throb with a raw desire that frightened me. I wanted him to do just that. Never, in my whole function had I been so turned on by a single mech; never had I wanted someone to dominate me so badly. I was not an outgoing mech, by any means, but I had never had my engine revved so well until the first time he threw me down onto a berth and proceeded to blow my processor with his whole body. "I'm going to frag you so hard that you need all day to recover."

I moan desperately, needing some kind of contact at my valve or I was going to go insane. "Please, Drift! I-I need-" I stammer, knowing what I want but not sure how to put it into words. I was great with science and metal but when it came to intimate words, dirty talk, I was illiterate.

His glossa slowly traces my spinal struts, humming in pleasure as his servos continue to grope my aft. "Just tell me what you want next," he soothes, his deep voice reverberating through my metal.

My optics flutter offline as his fingers ghost across my hip joints but don't slip inside. The teasing was driving me wild and one thought popped into my processor. "I-I want…your glossa…" I couldn't finish the sentence. It was mortifying to say.

"My glossa? Where do you want it?" he smirks against my lower back. His glossa peeks out to swirl against the sensitive nodes there.

"M-My…" I clench my optics closed, trying to vocalize the word. Meanwhile, his servos are groping my thighs, spreading them further apart. My fists clench as I hear lubricant dripping against the berth from my weeping valve. It was too much. "Please, my valve!"

"That's all you had to say," he whispers before I feel his talented glossa penetrating my aching valve. If it hadn't been for his servos holding my thighs, I probably would have fallen over. "Frag, you taste so sweet." His breath was hot against my valve before he plunges back in, lapping at the nodes right at the edge. I gasp, fisting the cushions on the berth desperately.

His mouth moves away from my valve but before I can even whimper, I felt the tip of his spike teasing the rim. I try to push my aft back against his tip but his servos clamp down on my waist, keeping me where I am. I knew what he wanted. "Drift, frag me!" I shout and before I can regret it, he slams his hips forward while pulling mine back.

The clash of metal against metal was thunderous and the pleasure rocked my entire form. His girth stretched me even so soon after our first interface and it made my spark throb with desire. He leans over me, pressing his front against my back, drawing his glossa across the back of my telescope slowly. It left me keening with so much need that I shoved back, meeting every thrust with one of my own.

"That's right," he groans, digging his fingers into my sides brutally. I would have to bang dents out later but for now…I was only conscious of my need to overload. "Oh frag, I'm going to-"

"Please, Drift, overload inside me!" I scream before I even realize what I'm saying.

He slams his hips forward one more time and the feel of his transfluid spilling into my clenching valve shocks me into overload. I spasm, his spike in my valve the only thing keeping me up. It felt like I offlined for a few seconds because one moment I'm sitting there with him buried deep in my valve and the next, I'm cradled in the curve of his body. His faceplate was nuzzled against my back, his body warm and comfortable.

"I love it when you let go," he smiles, kissing my cheek lightly.

My faceplate heats up but I'm too tired to really feel that much embarrassment at the moment. Besides, it felt good, right? So how could it be bad? "You were…amazing," I finally whisper, feeling him pause in shock.

"You too," he chuckles, his voice holding a softness that was different than before. "Now, recharge, you need it."

"Mm-hm," I mumble but I'm already recharging.

The End

A/N: So, this was for the winner of a competition that I was offering up a one-shot for on Deviantart! I didn't really know about this pairing until Mizz-Ninja asked for it! I have to say that I'm in love with them!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! :D