I look up into those soft, glowing blue optics of his, as I have done many times before… And no matter how often we've done this, it still sends shivers through my frame.
No one… No one ever looks at me like that…
And I hate him for it. I hate him for stripping away my defenses with that one silent gaze, a gaze which soothes and comforts me, but leaves me feeling vulnerable… I don't like feeling vulnerable, not to anyone… But against him, it's not a feeling I can fight.
He's quite large, to be honest. His marksmanship is almost perfect, and when he isn't using a gun, that strength of his does the job… But it is strange. Those very same arms which have lifted, thrown, and pummeled my incompetent comrades are cradling me now, embracing me… How could one so powerful be so gentle…?
Much less to someone like me?
But he answers that question for me, as our optics lock. The blue glow softens slightly, and I feel a hand caress my helm. These silent conversations of ours occur frequently; he knows me too well, and it's both frightening and comforting. He doesn't speak much; he observes, he touches, he listens, he studies.
Just like he's doing now.
He always does this during these meetings… Paying homage to me with those world-weary optics of his, silently stroking my frame with nonexistent touches….
I hate when he looks at me like this…
My vulnerability doesn't lend well to my willpower, and just by his tender touches alone, I find myself leaning into his touch, feel my spark burning out of control…
Those strong arms wrapped around me, he pulls me down into his lap, and those hands… By Primus, those hands… They inflict tortures on me, such delicious tortures, that I can barely keep my vocalizer in check. My wings, my helm, my thrusters… Everything is at his mercy, and he knows it… Primus, he knows it….
I let out a slight whimper of protest. Not that I disapprove of the touch, mind you… But in these moments between us, something doesn't feel… Fair.
I chuckle slightly. Me, Starscream, concerned about being fair? With my optics on his, I take his hands and pull them away from my frame, pinning them on the ground below. Using my own chest, I gently push his back to the ground, my legs clamped around his waist tightly. Do you understand what I'm saying, Prime? Do you understand what I want?
Do you understand what I want to do to you… Prime…?
There is a light flicker in his optics, and in a few moments, a glow of understanding resonates within them. He is smiling at me, behind that facemask. He understands, and does not protest.
I smirk.
I release his hands slowly, though I keep a grip on his waist….
I'm nervous, for some reason… Optimus Prime, bearer of the Matrix, leader of the Autobots, is surrendering his body to me. This would be seen as a conquest to some, but to me… I'm honestly overwhelmed at the sensation, and don't know where to start.
I don't know much about the way his body works. In the past, it has been Prime who took control during these meetings, brought me to overload countless times, without me so much as discovering his zones of pleasure.
Oh well.
Experimentation leads to knowledge… And knowledge of this body, this glorious body before me, will benefit me in any number of ways… It will benefit him as well. I'll make sure of it.
With him laying before me, looking up at me with those smoldering optics, it's hard to concentrate, but this is my chance to utterly annihilate his senses as he's done to me many times before. I observe him in silence; every part of him exudes strength, power, and magnificence, and I don't know where to start….
Maybe…
I keep my optics on his as I reach forward, toward the grill on his torso… His optics practically flicker; is he anticipating this? Or is this an area I can start my assault on…? You've given yourself away, Prime. You're all mine now.
Segment by segment, my fingers press themselves to the smooth, crisp slats of his grill, and he makes a noise… Not really a moan… More like a purr. It resonates from deep within him, that purr, and it ripples through his entire frame…
Delicious.
Applying sufficient pressure, I stroke my hand upward. His body gives a short spasm, another purr, but louder this time…
More pressure. Another stroke. The metal beneath my hand is heating up quickly, and I can hear his vents speeding up to keep him cool. He purrs again, much louder, much more… Needy.
I wonder how much longer he can stand this… It's actually quite fun to watch… And to hear. He raises his head slightly, watching as I lower my face down toward his grill.
Only millimeters away. Primus, I can feel heat rising from him, warming my own face plates. He's straining to keep his spasms in check, watching as I move closer.
My mouth opens, and I slowly press my glossa to that burning grill beneath me.
Oh Primus, he goes ballistic beneath me. His back arches, and I hear his engine roar like a beast… He moans.
Loudly.
Almost in agony.
Primus, he's driving me crazy.
Another stroke from my glossa sends him into another spasm, and his engine revs even louder than before. My spark is practically collapsing on itself; each moan of his is shredding away at my own control…
My optics travel lower to the blue strip of metal on his pelvis… I wonder…
I press two fingers against the blue strip gently, and I'm awarded with a shiver. Still pressed against this area, my fingers stroke up and down. I'm almost startled as his pelvis lifts off the ground, arching into my touch, giving inadvertent thrusts along with my ministrations.
His voice is saturated with need, so saturated it's dizzying. Prime, if only you could see yourself… He's making noises now that would send any mech within earshot into overload.
Still continuing my attention to his pelvis, I return my glossa to his grill, which is now burning to the touch. He pounds a fist against the ground, and I can hear his vents practically shorting themselves out. I chance to look up, and I can see the metal of his chest threatening to open at any moment. Tell-tale bolts from his spark are surging through gaps in his chest plates; he'll be ready soon.
My own body is terribly warm right now; just listening to him and watching him writhe in bliss is driving me mad…
And I can't take anymore.
I cease my ministrations and clamp my hands upon his wrists as tightly as I can, holding him down as I drag my cockpit across his front. Primus, the friction is maddening. I grind my own pelvis against his, my cries intertwining with his as our movements become frenzied.
It is his spark chamber that reveals itself first; by Primus, he's practically drowning in ecstasy, and his engine is roaring away beneath me, sending vibrations into my frame and driving me to agony. Bolts of energy pour from my own chest plates, and with a moan, my spark chamber is revealed to him…
Prime… I'm going to destroy you, just as you've destroyed me.
No subtleties.
No slow torture. Not this time.
I thrust my spark against his, and by Primus, he roars my name to the heavens just as I roar his. His pelvis grinds with mine, desperate to create more friction between us as we succumb to wave after wave of agonizing ecstasy.
I'm at a loss for words now. All I can do is scream. My optics are leaking lubricant; this feeling is so beautiful. He is thrashing and squirming beneath me, and our sparks experience a veritable supernova between us.
He screams. So do I.
I'm not sure how long we were offline. We've never experienced a finish that powerful before, and it's hard to move.
When my optics finally decide to start functioning again, I gaze down at him. His spark chamber has long since closed, as has mine… But he's looking up at me with those same smoldering optics as before… His body is cooling, my body is cooling, but that look is enough to send my temperature skyrocketing once again.
A large hand comes up, rests upon my face, and strokes it gently. He keeps his optics on mine as his arms encircle me, pulling me as close to his frame as possible.
There is silence between us for the rest of the night. We know that, in a few hours, we will have to go back to our respective fleets, go back to warring, go back to fighting and hating each other… But if only for these few hours, we can rest peacefully together, and forget about the hatred and the war…
Right now, there are no Autobots or Decepticons.
There is only myself, and my bondmate.