[Fic] Unseen Illusions: Turned On Mirage
Title: Unseen Illusions: Turned On Mirage (Featuring Tracks)
Author: BitterEloquence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 513
Pairings: Mirage/Tracks
Summary: A series of vignettes and fics about the Autobot spy Mirage. Written for the 28 characters meme. Slash, various pairings and ratings abound.
Claim Notes: This was claimed by jigsaws231
Additional Notes: Thanks to stormsailor for beta'ing!
Warnings: Kinda angry smexing. Nothing too terrible.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters within, nor am I making any money off of this story. All I own are the twisted ideas floating around in my head.
Claims List: Here
If you see one that strikes your fancy, by all means, claim it! I'm fairly open and willing to write just about anything.
He hated it, this low, base attraction. This need. It was utterly shameful for an elite mech such as himself to want something so below his station. Especially a trumped up Commoner who dared to try to pass himself off as if he were Towers.
Everything about Tracks got on his nerves. His paint-job, the way he spoke, his voice! Oh, Primus, how he hated that falsely snooty tone, especially when it was moaning out his name. He hated Tracks.
"Yeah, right there," that reviled voice hissed in his audio as Mirage dragged his hands along a flight stabilizer. The Corvette moaned loudly as his lover pressed him against the wall of the wash-racks. Mirage had snuck up behind him and all but pounced his sometimes lover, but Tracks hadn't complained that much.
"Shut up," Mirage snarled, leaning in to kiss him so he'd be quiet.
The Corvette felt the paint across his back scratch against the corner of the stall and Tracks growled into the kiss, pushing Mirage back as he used his greater weight to bully the Ligier around so it was his body trapped against the wall of the stall.
Mirage pulled back from the kiss as if he'd been hit. "Get off of me."
"No. I don't want my finish scuffed up just because you can't pick a better location to molest me," Tracks scoffed, nipping and nuzzling at the former noblemech's crests. Both their engines were running hot and Tracks smiled when he felt Mirage's jump gears as he touched those sensitive crests.
"Shut up," the Ligier snarled, shifting to capture Track's lips so he'd do just that. They both groaned into the kiss as chassis pressed to chassis and finely-tuned engines rumbled in time with one another.
The Corvette moved to touch Mirage, to explore the race car's body, but Mirage forced his hands away with a distracted growl. Not easily dissuaded, Tracks twisted his hands out of Mirage's grip and grabbed the Ligier's aft, pulling his body closer.
"No!" Mirage ordered, pulling away from him with a snarl. "Keep your filthy commoner hands to yourself. I don't want you touching me, you know the rules."
Tracks leaned back against the stall with a taunting, superior look. "If you don’t want me touching you, why do you keep coming back to me, hmmn?"
"Frag you." Ardor thoroughly suppressed now, Mirage felt disgust swamp back in to fill the hole lust had left within him. The disgust shown openly on aristocratic features as the Ligier pushed away from Tracks. "You disgust me."
And with that, the former noblemech turned on his heel and stalked out of the wash-racks.
Behind him, Tracks smiled a dark, unpleasant smile and touched a smear of pale blue paint that had been scratched across his chest. "But you'll still come back to me," he swore with a grim sort of finality. Turning back to his bathing, the vain blue mech started to scrub at and repair the marks left on his chassis by his short interlude with the spy.
Author: BitterEloquence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 513
Pairings: Mirage/Tracks
Summary: A series of vignettes and fics about the Autobot spy Mirage. Written for the 28 characters meme. Slash, various pairings and ratings abound.
Claim Notes: This was claimed by jigsaws231
Additional Notes: Thanks to stormsailor for beta'ing!
Warnings: Kinda angry smexing. Nothing too terrible.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters within, nor am I making any money off of this story. All I own are the twisted ideas floating around in my head.
Claims List: Here
If you see one that strikes your fancy, by all means, claim it! I'm fairly open and willing to write just about anything.
He hated it, this low, base attraction. This need. It was utterly shameful for an elite mech such as himself to want something so below his station. Especially a trumped up Commoner who dared to try to pass himself off as if he were Towers.
Everything about Tracks got on his nerves. His paint-job, the way he spoke, his voice! Oh, Primus, how he hated that falsely snooty tone, especially when it was moaning out his name. He hated Tracks.
"Yeah, right there," that reviled voice hissed in his audio as Mirage dragged his hands along a flight stabilizer. The Corvette moaned loudly as his lover pressed him against the wall of the wash-racks. Mirage had snuck up behind him and all but pounced his sometimes lover, but Tracks hadn't complained that much.
"Shut up," Mirage snarled, leaning in to kiss him so he'd be quiet.
The Corvette felt the paint across his back scratch against the corner of the stall and Tracks growled into the kiss, pushing Mirage back as he used his greater weight to bully the Ligier around so it was his body trapped against the wall of the stall.
Mirage pulled back from the kiss as if he'd been hit. "Get off of me."
"No. I don't want my finish scuffed up just because you can't pick a better location to molest me," Tracks scoffed, nipping and nuzzling at the former noblemech's crests. Both their engines were running hot and Tracks smiled when he felt Mirage's jump gears as he touched those sensitive crests.
"Shut up," the Ligier snarled, shifting to capture Track's lips so he'd do just that. They both groaned into the kiss as chassis pressed to chassis and finely-tuned engines rumbled in time with one another.
The Corvette moved to touch Mirage, to explore the race car's body, but Mirage forced his hands away with a distracted growl. Not easily dissuaded, Tracks twisted his hands out of Mirage's grip and grabbed the Ligier's aft, pulling his body closer.
"No!" Mirage ordered, pulling away from him with a snarl. "Keep your filthy commoner hands to yourself. I don't want you touching me, you know the rules."
Tracks leaned back against the stall with a taunting, superior look. "If you don’t want me touching you, why do you keep coming back to me, hmmn?"
"Frag you." Ardor thoroughly suppressed now, Mirage felt disgust swamp back in to fill the hole lust had left within him. The disgust shown openly on aristocratic features as the Ligier pushed away from Tracks. "You disgust me."
And with that, the former noblemech turned on his heel and stalked out of the wash-racks.
Behind him, Tracks smiled a dark, unpleasant smile and touched a smear of pale blue paint that had been scratched across his chest. "But you'll still come back to me," he swore with a grim sort of finality. Turning back to his bathing, the vain blue mech started to scrub at and repair the marks left on his chassis by his short interlude with the spy.