Plot bunnies are being good, but smut bunnies, on the other hand...
... Where the frig did this come from? 0_0
Title: Peep Show
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Not part of Mission'verse.
Rating: M.
Warnings: Slash. Suggestive content liek Whoa.
If they got caught, they were dead. Not ‘yelled at’, not ‘tossed in the brig’, not ‘assigned punishment duty’, but dead. Deactivated. Sparks ripped out and crushed, hopefully before they realised it. The mechs they were pulling this on had gotten to where they were for a reason, and a breach of privacy of this magnitude…
Primus, why had they even done it?
Curiosity was a big factor. Nearly every one wondered how these two acted in private with each other. That they were paired was beyond a doubt, but public displays were rare to the point of non existent for one, and the other was all too good at being subtle when he wanted.
So. The hidden camera in the mechs’ shared quarters.
It had taken a bit of fiddling, and they couldn’t get sound or risk making the whole rig too bulky to hide (and they were trying to spy on a Spec Ops mech), but in the end they’d done it. Their camera was transmitting everything to the vid screen in the Rec room. Right now.
And, nothing was going on. Yet.
A mech was resting on a berth, reading a datapad or a bookfile. Alone.
However, they knew a second mech would be on his way in a moment, and furtively everyone watching settled down to wait, casting wary glances at the door where more of their number stood watch, just in case.
On the vid screen, a door slid open and the assembled leant nearer, watching the new mech walk in, gait light and expression merry.
But the moment the door shut properly, he dimmed a little, no longer as bright, and his posture drooped a little. The other mech had put aside his datapad and was next to him now, arms gently circling a pliant bot around the waist, holding him close. Dark hands and light arms returned the gesture, sliding over similarly toned paint to surround the other mech’s neck, while a dark helm buried faceplates against his love. A light helm leant close to speak into an audio, and pale hands traced up and down the other’s back in a comforting manner. Fond smiles were exchanged and a soft, gentle kiss was pressed to the dark helm.
Their watchers shifted. This… was a very private moment and they were intruding, but no one could bring themselves to turn away, or turn the screen off.
Both mechs on screen had moved to the berth again, sitting curled against each other. The first had gone back to his datapad, and the second was bobbing his head, most likely to some tune they could not hear, a doorwing draped across his shouders. It was a scene so domestic, the assembled could not believe what they were seeing.
And it just made them even more uncomfortable. But curiosity won out, and no one left.
Then, a dark hand slid behind the other’s back, and traced its way up a thigh, moving up to drum against the hip plating, and was entrapped by its pale counterpart, fingers intertwining automatically. Undaunted, a second hand pulled away his partner’s datapad, slipping it into subspace, and he leant over to nuzzle against a once more smiling face.
It was the smiles that surprised them the most. Such an expression was commonplace for one, and much less so for the other, but ‘till now they’d not realised that such private, tender, for each other only looks could play across either of these mech’s faceplates.
The pair kissed, the second mech’s turn to pull the first close. Kissing led to more touching, and one mech was soon pressed against the berth, optics off, head tilted aside as neck cables were caressed with lips and the occasional bite.
Their unseen audience started, however, when his optics flashed on again and he looked directly at the camera, and straight at them. Their dread only grew when the mech above him did them same, a slowly growing smirk on his faceplates before he turned back to the task of pleasuring his now writhing lover. A mouth fell open, gasping soundlessly as dark hands scrabbled for purchase on the berth, and then on the other mech as pale ones roamed freely over his chassis.
Through it all, those optics never left the camera, and their audience knew they’d been caught, had likely been discovered even before the second mech had entered the room. Now they were grateful for the lack of sound as the view on the vid screen did not leave them unaffected, and the sound of softly purring engines started up, interwoven with the creak of metal as fists were clenched and denta were gritted in an attempt to remain under control.
Those optics offlined again as the mech’s chassis arched up, and his partner did the same, both riding out the overload and relaxing as the rush faded. Two pairs of optics onlined and the pair kissed, then stared once more at their distant audience with sated expressions and knowing little smiles. Slowly, pointedly, one mech mouthed out words, the meanings of which were beyond doubt, pointing at the camera, and at them.
“Off. Now”
They obeyed.
Title: Peep Show
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Not part of Mission'verse.
Rating: M.
Warnings: Slash. Suggestive content liek Whoa.
If they got caught, they were dead. Not ‘yelled at’, not ‘tossed in the brig’, not ‘assigned punishment duty’, but dead. Deactivated. Sparks ripped out and crushed, hopefully before they realised it. The mechs they were pulling this on had gotten to where they were for a reason, and a breach of privacy of this magnitude…
Primus, why had they even done it?
Curiosity was a big factor. Nearly every one wondered how these two acted in private with each other. That they were paired was beyond a doubt, but public displays were rare to the point of non existent for one, and the other was all too good at being subtle when he wanted.
So. The hidden camera in the mechs’ shared quarters.
It had taken a bit of fiddling, and they couldn’t get sound or risk making the whole rig too bulky to hide (and they were trying to spy on a Spec Ops mech), but in the end they’d done it. Their camera was transmitting everything to the vid screen in the Rec room. Right now.
And, nothing was going on. Yet.
A mech was resting on a berth, reading a datapad or a bookfile. Alone.
However, they knew a second mech would be on his way in a moment, and furtively everyone watching settled down to wait, casting wary glances at the door where more of their number stood watch, just in case.
On the vid screen, a door slid open and the assembled leant nearer, watching the new mech walk in, gait light and expression merry.
But the moment the door shut properly, he dimmed a little, no longer as bright, and his posture drooped a little. The other mech had put aside his datapad and was next to him now, arms gently circling a pliant bot around the waist, holding him close. Dark hands and light arms returned the gesture, sliding over similarly toned paint to surround the other mech’s neck, while a dark helm buried faceplates against his love. A light helm leant close to speak into an audio, and pale hands traced up and down the other’s back in a comforting manner. Fond smiles were exchanged and a soft, gentle kiss was pressed to the dark helm.
Their watchers shifted. This… was a very private moment and they were intruding, but no one could bring themselves to turn away, or turn the screen off.
Both mechs on screen had moved to the berth again, sitting curled against each other. The first had gone back to his datapad, and the second was bobbing his head, most likely to some tune they could not hear, a doorwing draped across his shouders. It was a scene so domestic, the assembled could not believe what they were seeing.
And it just made them even more uncomfortable. But curiosity won out, and no one left.
Then, a dark hand slid behind the other’s back, and traced its way up a thigh, moving up to drum against the hip plating, and was entrapped by its pale counterpart, fingers intertwining automatically. Undaunted, a second hand pulled away his partner’s datapad, slipping it into subspace, and he leant over to nuzzle against a once more smiling face.
It was the smiles that surprised them the most. Such an expression was commonplace for one, and much less so for the other, but ‘till now they’d not realised that such private, tender, for each other only looks could play across either of these mech’s faceplates.
The pair kissed, the second mech’s turn to pull the first close. Kissing led to more touching, and one mech was soon pressed against the berth, optics off, head tilted aside as neck cables were caressed with lips and the occasional bite.
Their unseen audience started, however, when his optics flashed on again and he looked directly at the camera, and straight at them. Their dread only grew when the mech above him did them same, a slowly growing smirk on his faceplates before he turned back to the task of pleasuring his now writhing lover. A mouth fell open, gasping soundlessly as dark hands scrabbled for purchase on the berth, and then on the other mech as pale ones roamed freely over his chassis.
Through it all, those optics never left the camera, and their audience knew they’d been caught, had likely been discovered even before the second mech had entered the room. Now they were grateful for the lack of sound as the view on the vid screen did not leave them unaffected, and the sound of softly purring engines started up, interwoven with the creak of metal as fists were clenched and denta were gritted in an attempt to remain under control.
Those optics offlined again as the mech’s chassis arched up, and his partner did the same, both riding out the overload and relaxing as the rush faded. Two pairs of optics onlined and the pair kissed, then stared once more at their distant audience with sated expressions and knowing little smiles. Slowly, pointedly, one mech mouthed out words, the meanings of which were beyond doubt, pointing at the camera, and at them.
“Off. Now”
They obeyed.