FIC: By the Warm Light of Day, Ultra Magnus, Transformers G1
It was dark and rainy and dreary when I wrote this. At least I could give the Autobots some sunshine!
Title: By the Warm Light of Day
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairings: Ultra Magnus/lots of Autobots
Rating: T
Word Count: 900
Summary: A happy, sunny, and somewhat strange morning in Ultra Magnus' office.
Content advisory: Contains an Autobot in heat, with the attendant consent issues.
It seemed like an ordinary day.
Magnus liked days, and ordinary days were his favorite kind. A sun was an excellent way to keep track of duty cycles. As the sun appeared over the horizon, Magnus appeared at his desk. The night's work was finished; the day's work was beginning.
Metroplex, as pleased with the diurnal cycles as his commander, threw open the windows, illuminating Magnus and the rest of his inhabitants. "Good morning, Metroplex," Magnus replied.
It would be a good day, he thought.
*****
Rodimus Prime was early--earlier than average, anyway. Primes never kept a regular schedule; Magnus doubted that Rodimus even tried. But nonetheless there he was, on Magnus' desk, before Magnus had finished even one item on the agenda.
On Magnus' desk, and leaning closer than usual. Magnus frowned. "I keep telling you, get off the desk!"
"Okay!" Rodimus grinned, and before Magnus could specify further, the Prime was perched on his lap.
Magnus sighed, but wrapped an arm around Rodimus' waist, anyway. He didn't want him to fall.
"You look really good this morning," Rodimus said, voice muffled against Magnus' shoulder. "All shiny. And you feel so warm..." The Prime shifted against him as though trying to get inside his armor.
"Rodimus..." Magnus said. And then, "Oh!" and then "Rodimus!" and at some point the chair fell over but Rodimus didn't seem to care, and he made sure Magnus didn't care either.
*****
The chair was still on its back on the floor. Magnus should fix that, it was driving him nuts. He started to pull himself up.
"No, no, you're so comfortable..." Rodimus clung to his armor like a space-leech, heavy enough to keep him from reaching the chair without dislodging him, and strong enough that dislodging him would require a fight. "Stay...."
The Prime was right, Magnus realized; he was very comfortable. He looked away from the chair and back to the mech cuddled up on his chest, warm and gently vibrating and still plugged into several of Magnus' ports. "Yes..." Magnus said, and he could feel the day slipping away from him like the endless breems and vorns of Cybertron, but the Prime and the sunlight were on his chest, and he found he didn't mind.
*****
"Magnus?"
Someone else was at the door, and shit, Magnus wasn't at his desk. Magnus' chair wasn't even at his desk, and Rodimus hadn't locked the door either. "Just a second..." Magnus said, and reached over to disconnect the Prime so he could pull himself up and make himself presentable.
It was too late, though. The door was already open and Arcee was looking down at them. Grinning down at them, in fact.
"C'mon in and join the fun." Rodimus spread himself open on top of Magnus, catching the sunlight and detangling his hand from Magnus' plating to offer to their fellow soldier.
"Don't mind if I do." Arcee took the hand, and Magnus watched in bemused arousal as they kissed on top of him.
And then Arcee was kissing him and it might have been Roddy on her, but it tasted better than anything, and Magnus opened up and let her have her way with him.
*****
All the 'facing had scrambled Magnus' internal clock; it couldn't possibly only be 0900. With heroic effort, he managed to rearrange the Autobots on top of him so that he could get a view of the window.
It looked like 0900, and the sun was still warm and bright. Well. At least he still had time.
"Rodimus, Arcee..." he said, shifting under them to indicate that perhaps they should detach themselves.
Rodimus moaned. Arcee pounced.
Magnus held on.
Soon Magnus was moaning too.
*****
When Sandstorm arrived, Magnus knew he needed a bigger office. A few friends was one thing; but four made an orgy, especially (or so the younger Autobots claimed) if the fourth was Sandstorm.
The poor chair was still on its back, and now on the other side of the room as well. "Could you at least move the desk?" Magnus asked, before he was completely buried.
"Sure." With admirable efficiency, Sandstorm pushed the desk as far into the opposite corner as possible.
"C'mere," Arcee said, reaching a hand out for Sandstorm's tail-rotors. "I know what to do with a set of those..."
She certainly did. So did Rodimus. And then they were bobbing in front of Magnus' face as Sandstorm buried his mouth in his neck, and it was only polite to give them a lick.
*****
At 0927, Springer arrived, and they set about demonstrating that two sets of rotors were even more fun than one.
At 0945, Kup. At 1004, Perceptor.
"We need a bigger room. Now." Magnus had a terrible feeling about what was going to happen next. But no one heard him over all the happy moaning and revving and Perceptor's babble about stellar radiation and dormant estral cycles.
Sure enough, at 1022 the Dinobots arrived.
Magnus needed a bigger office. And a new desk. And a new chair. And another set of connectors.
But all that could happen later. The sun still shone down on them, and Magnus was covered in his comrades, and though it wasn't an ordinary day, it was a good one.
Title: By the Warm Light of Day
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairings: Ultra Magnus/lots of Autobots
Rating: T
Word Count: 900
Summary: A happy, sunny, and somewhat strange morning in Ultra Magnus' office.
Content advisory: Contains an Autobot in heat, with the attendant consent issues.
It seemed like an ordinary day.
Magnus liked days, and ordinary days were his favorite kind. A sun was an excellent way to keep track of duty cycles. As the sun appeared over the horizon, Magnus appeared at his desk. The night's work was finished; the day's work was beginning.
Metroplex, as pleased with the diurnal cycles as his commander, threw open the windows, illuminating Magnus and the rest of his inhabitants. "Good morning, Metroplex," Magnus replied.
It would be a good day, he thought.
*****
Rodimus Prime was early--earlier than average, anyway. Primes never kept a regular schedule; Magnus doubted that Rodimus even tried. But nonetheless there he was, on Magnus' desk, before Magnus had finished even one item on the agenda.
On Magnus' desk, and leaning closer than usual. Magnus frowned. "I keep telling you, get off the desk!"
"Okay!" Rodimus grinned, and before Magnus could specify further, the Prime was perched on his lap.
Magnus sighed, but wrapped an arm around Rodimus' waist, anyway. He didn't want him to fall.
"You look really good this morning," Rodimus said, voice muffled against Magnus' shoulder. "All shiny. And you feel so warm..." The Prime shifted against him as though trying to get inside his armor.
"Rodimus..." Magnus said. And then, "Oh!" and then "Rodimus!" and at some point the chair fell over but Rodimus didn't seem to care, and he made sure Magnus didn't care either.
*****
The chair was still on its back on the floor. Magnus should fix that, it was driving him nuts. He started to pull himself up.
"No, no, you're so comfortable..." Rodimus clung to his armor like a space-leech, heavy enough to keep him from reaching the chair without dislodging him, and strong enough that dislodging him would require a fight. "Stay...."
The Prime was right, Magnus realized; he was very comfortable. He looked away from the chair and back to the mech cuddled up on his chest, warm and gently vibrating and still plugged into several of Magnus' ports. "Yes..." Magnus said, and he could feel the day slipping away from him like the endless breems and vorns of Cybertron, but the Prime and the sunlight were on his chest, and he found he didn't mind.
*****
"Magnus?"
Someone else was at the door, and shit, Magnus wasn't at his desk. Magnus' chair wasn't even at his desk, and Rodimus hadn't locked the door either. "Just a second..." Magnus said, and reached over to disconnect the Prime so he could pull himself up and make himself presentable.
It was too late, though. The door was already open and Arcee was looking down at them. Grinning down at them, in fact.
"C'mon in and join the fun." Rodimus spread himself open on top of Magnus, catching the sunlight and detangling his hand from Magnus' plating to offer to their fellow soldier.
"Don't mind if I do." Arcee took the hand, and Magnus watched in bemused arousal as they kissed on top of him.
And then Arcee was kissing him and it might have been Roddy on her, but it tasted better than anything, and Magnus opened up and let her have her way with him.
*****
All the 'facing had scrambled Magnus' internal clock; it couldn't possibly only be 0900. With heroic effort, he managed to rearrange the Autobots on top of him so that he could get a view of the window.
It looked like 0900, and the sun was still warm and bright. Well. At least he still had time.
"Rodimus, Arcee..." he said, shifting under them to indicate that perhaps they should detach themselves.
Rodimus moaned. Arcee pounced.
Magnus held on.
Soon Magnus was moaning too.
*****
When Sandstorm arrived, Magnus knew he needed a bigger office. A few friends was one thing; but four made an orgy, especially (or so the younger Autobots claimed) if the fourth was Sandstorm.
The poor chair was still on its back, and now on the other side of the room as well. "Could you at least move the desk?" Magnus asked, before he was completely buried.
"Sure." With admirable efficiency, Sandstorm pushed the desk as far into the opposite corner as possible.
"C'mere," Arcee said, reaching a hand out for Sandstorm's tail-rotors. "I know what to do with a set of those..."
She certainly did. So did Rodimus. And then they were bobbing in front of Magnus' face as Sandstorm buried his mouth in his neck, and it was only polite to give them a lick.
*****
At 0927, Springer arrived, and they set about demonstrating that two sets of rotors were even more fun than one.
At 0945, Kup. At 1004, Perceptor.
"We need a bigger room. Now." Magnus had a terrible feeling about what was going to happen next. But no one heard him over all the happy moaning and revving and Perceptor's babble about stellar radiation and dormant estral cycles.
Sure enough, at 1022 the Dinobots arrived.
Magnus needed a bigger office. And a new desk. And a new chair. And another set of connectors.
But all that could happen later. The sun still shone down on them, and Magnus was covered in his comrades, and though it wasn't an ordinary day, it was a good one.