Ratchet finally gets some nookie!
Title: When the light is taking over.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Ironhide x Ratchet, implied Prowl x Jazz, Hound x Mirage, Sunstreaker x Sideswipe x Bluestreak?
Summary: Sequel to Through the Windshield. Ratchet and Ironhide are dancing around the possibility of a relationship, prompting a mini-team of match makers to push them in the right direction.
Notes: Okay so uh, the smut part kind of sucked and the rest of the events weren't all that meaningful. But hey, people asked for Ratchet getting some akshun, and akshun he got!
Thanks to nkfloofiepoof for beta reading this for me.
Ratchet growled loudly as he threw a wrench at Sunstreaker's general direction, barely missing the head of the golden Lamborghini. The brat wasn't going to let his little 'drunken performance' die down. It had been at least two weeks since the fact, and not a single day went by without either of the Lamborghini twins or their Datsun accomplice making comments about his antics under the effects of too much high-grade.
"Get the slag out of my medical bay this instant if you want to keep your head attached your body!" the CMO barked loudly. His irritation all but increased as Sunstreaker left in a hurry with that wide grin of his. "Primus, get overcharged once, and they won't let you outlive it!"
"Everythin' alright, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as he peeked cautiously into the med-bay.
"Yes, everything is fine." The medic forced himself to keep his voice down, not wishing to snap at Ironhide of all people. "What do you need?"
Ironhide stepped further into the room, showing his arm where he sported a large dent left there probably by Brawn in a sparring match. Ratchet groaned and shook his head but pointed to the table. "I'm surprised you manage to get yourself this dented by just sparring, Ironhide. I swear you're making me work more than the slagging Lambos."
"I'm a bit distracted lately, is all. Old 'n' washed up mech, and all that." Ironhide laid on the table, giving his best sheepish smile to the CMO. In truth, Ironhide had been purposefully injuring himself to bring himself to the cares of their resident medic. It wasn't that Ironhide was a fan of pain, far from it, but he decided Ratchet needed the distraction from the constant reminders of his one wild night. Surely he could beat the scrap off the twins and Bluestreak, but that'd only mean they would spend more time with Ratchet than the medic could stand and a few days in the brig for himself.
"Drop the old-mech act already." Ratchet smiled softly already feeling his tension dissipating as his hands and instruments worked expertly over the damaged chassis. "You're really something else, Ironhide."
"I am?" the red mech chuckled softly, looking up to study Ratchet's face, always finding himself tracing each line, each curve, each plate that formed that face he considered attractive from day one.
"You can beat the scrap out of any Decepticon that crosses you with minimal damage, yet you get dents left and right doing simple things as of late. Where is your mind these days, 'Hide?" Ratchet smiled as he continued his work, feeling rather content of working over that red chassis. He had realized some time ago that, for some reason he couldn't quite pin-point, working on Ironhide's frame always managed to relax him and put his spark at ease. Minor repairs and regular tune-ups always managed to bring a sense of calm and timelessness to him, something he couldn't achieve whenever he worked on someone else's body.
"You really want to know?" Ironhide chuckled softly.
"Perhaps." The CMO smiled to the older mech idly brushing his fingertips along the red arm, feeling how much was left of the dent on the plating before he resumed his work.
"Well, I've been distracted by a certain mech with a red aft." He grinned playfully and was rewarded with a playful smack on his arm. "Hey, you asked!"
"Very funny," Ratchet laughed softly and shook his head as he resumed his work. He had remembered everything he had done when he was overcharged, so it wasn't a surprise to find himself coming back online by Ironhide's side. He remembered the kisses and the emotional support lent by the weapons specialist. However, true to his gentlebot ways, Ironhide hadn't pursued things any further, giving Ratchet time to decide if he really did want to establish any kind of relationship with him or not.
Over the days after his one-bot-show, their interaction had been cordial and friendly, but any potential steps toward a relationship had yet to be taken by either of them. Sometimes, Ironhide brushed his hand gently with his own, letting him know he was willing, but hardly made any further advances, leaving it up to the medical officer to determine the direction of their relationship.
"So," Ironhide drawled with a smile. "I heard there's going to be a little party going on tonight if Jazz can get his way. You're going?"
"I don't think that'd be a good idea." Ratchet sighed heavily, brushing his digits along the plating of the red van's arm, satisfied with his work. "The twins aren't going to leave me alone if I show my mug there."
"Aw, c'mon! You're not going to let them get the best of you now, do you? Just threaten to dirty-dance Sunstreaker again and they'll shut up!" The taller mech had to duck the playful punch the medic threw in his general direction. "Hey, watch it!"
"You're impossible. Fine, I'll go if you're going too." The white mech set aside his tools.
"I wouldn't be asking you if I weren't, " Ironhide chuckled and hopped off the table, content with having distracted the medic for a while and ease his tension. "I better go to finish some pending work now. I'll see you at the party."
-----------------------
"Explain to me again," Prowl began as he read the data pad that outlined the supplies brought in for the party. "Why are we having this party and how did you get Prime to approve of this?"
Jazz grinned playfully, leaning over the tactician's desk. "I'm doin' someone a favor. Ironhide and Ratchet need a little push in the right direction, ya know?"
"Playing match-maker, Jazz?"
"Sorta!" The saboteur laughed a bit and rested his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hands, his aft propped high on the air. "Today's also when humans celebrate their harvestin' festivals. Ya know, to cherish the good year and all that stuff. We should celebrate our good fortune, too!"
"You pick the oddest things about human culture, you know that?" Prowl tried his best to keep his optics from that black, perky aft. He was sure Jazz was doing that on purpose. "Very well. Prime approved this anyway, but we cannot compromise our security too heavily. I'm leaving Brawn, Windcharger, Cliffjumper, and Huffer to stay on patrol duty. That's as many as I can spare."
"I don't think Huffer will mind." Jazz chuckled and stood back up rather lazily, making sure to arch his form in a rather suggestive way. Prowl mentally cursed his mate's dirty tricks.
"Well, I better go get the rest of th'preparations ready. And ya better be there in time, or I'll have ta drag ya by those sexy door wings of yours." Jazz exited the second in command's office before his mate could retaliate.
"You're quite a piece of work, Jazz. You truly are." Prowl shook his head and returned to his work, deciding to hurry with it if he desired to keep his dignity and door wings intact.
---------------------
Ratchet was thankful Wheeljack had dragged him to help with the preparations for the party. He felt it was easier to just stick around than come into the party once it began. The ambient was relaxed and festive but not nearly as loud as it had been at the previous celebration, making for a rather friendly and relaxed mood.
"What are we celebrating, again?" Ironhide asked as he calmly sipped his energon cube.
"Harvesting festival I believe. Or for us, our good fortune landing in this planet and things going better for us here than they did in Cybertron?" Ratchet surmised the reasons Jazz had given for the party early on when asked the same question. "Somehow, I foresee a plethora of parties and celebrations in our future as long as Jazz can sway his way with Prime and Prowl."
"Especially the later," Ironhide chuckled softly, earning a glare from the tactician. "Just a joke!"
"Certainly," Prowl replied dryly but turned his attention back to Jazz telling some tale about his many adventures as a saboteur in Decepticon territory.
"This is a little boring, don't you think?" Bluestreak commented as he sipped on his high-grade, sitting on the largest couch with the twins.
"Maybe if we get Ratchet overcharged he'll put on another show for us!" Sideswipe grinned as widely as his face plates would allow.
"Hey, with some luck he might even pole dance! Or give Bluestreak a lap dance!" Sunstreaker laughed, ignoring the proverbial daggers Ratchet, Ironhide, and Prowl were glaring on their general direction.
"'Nough with the mockin', boys. Ya don't want me pullin' out those embarrassin' records of yours I stole from Laserbeak, now do ya?" Jazz smiled sweetly at the trio, cackling in triumph when the troublemakers decided to change the topic.
"I want copies of those records," Ratchet grumbled and sipped from his energon cube, sticking to regular this time. He really didn't want any jokes about him getting overcharged this time.
"Bribe me, " the saboteur laughed before he moved to fiddle with the music player, looking for something they could dance to. He couldn't help but grin as he found a rather bouncy song. He loved all the music the earth culture could offer to him, but among his favorites, electronic music ranked high on his list. "Hey, Sunny, this one's for ya!"
Sunstreaker looked over to Jazz as the melody began to play, quickly catching the repetitive lyrics that made up the song, 'Mister Vain' being the key word. "Why you!"
"Come on, Mr. Vain, let's go dance!" Bluestreak laughed softly, taking the golden twin's hand to drag him to the clearer area dancing to the fast, catchy melody. Jazz himself had made a point to set up the dancing mood, putting a show of his own and demonstrating his dancing expertise.
Ratchet and Ironhide laughed at the suddenly upbeat ambient in the room, finding even they were unable to fight off the uplifting properties of the music, swaying their heads and tapping their feet. "Maybe if I was overcharged enough I'd join them at the dance floor."
"Screw that. You ain't catching me dancing that if I can help it." Ironhide laughed but continued to sway his head to the beat of the song, idly wondering how Jazz could master so many dancing styles in such short amount of time.
"Pft, not if I have something to say about that." Wheeljack pushed the tall Autobots towards the 'dance floor', forcing them to bump into each other and managing to stay on their feet merely by grace of luck.
"Let's play somethin' a little easier, shall we?" Jazz played with the sound system again, looking for something still cheerful and upbeat but easier to follow. "Aha! This should do the trick."
Once again the Porsche lead the change in the rhythm of the music, dancing to a much slower but still bouncy and cheerful pace. The saboteur made his way to Ironhide and Ratchet, taking their hands and swaying in between them to show them how to move, trying to get them into the feeling of the music. It didn't take long for Ratchet to get in tune with the melody, smiling as he reclaimed full grasp of Ironhide and dancing with him contently.
Jazz danced his way to the bar where his mate was sitting with Wheeljack, Hound and Mirage long gone to the dance floor. "Here's hopin' that's all the push they're gonna need."
"With some luck," Prowl agreed and watched the two mechs dancing contently, seeming to be enjoying themselves despite the initially embarrassing situation.
"And what are you two doing here just sitting?" Wheeljack poked Prowl's chest with an accusatory finger. "You two should be on the dance floor, too!"
"Uh, I don't think so. I can't dance --hey!"
"My aft." The engineer pushed the Datsun up and shoved him right onto the dancing ground, followed by an utterly amused Jazz. "I'll take care of the sound system for you." Wheeljack gave the visored mech a 'high-five' before he made his way to the sound system to look for something slow and romantic, smiling inwardly as he found just about what he had been looking for.
The recreation room was filled by the soft, soothing rythm of the love song Wheeljack found which prompted several Autobots to hold each other close, swaying slowly to the gentle melody.
Ironhide wrapped his arms around Ratchet's waist, holding him close, swaying gently with a caring smile spread over his face plates as the medic looked up at him with an unreadable expression. "We don't have to dance this if it's makin' you uncomfortable."
Ratchet shook his head and wrapped his own arms around the red mech's neck, offering a smile of his own for the weapons specialist, swaying gently against him. "No, I'm fine."
Wheeljack looked through the dance floor, feeling satisfied with the mood he managed to create. Those who weren't dancing anymore were contently chattering through energon cubes or watching the Autobots who were still dancing, particularly the twins and Bluestreak, Hound and Mirage, Prowl and Jazz, and especially Ironhide and Ratchet. "I swear to Primus, if they don't kiss soon, I'm going to throw something at them."
As if they had heard the engineer, Hound and Mirage shared a soft kiss as they danced.
"I was talking about Ironhide and Ratchet..."
"Who are you talking to?" Trailbreaker asked curiously.
"To myself and Primus if he's listening." Wheeljack shook his head and returned his attention to the dance floor.
"Hey, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as he danced with the CMO.
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?" Ironhide felt the plating of his cheeks grow hotter, certain of the bright blush that was spreading across them. He had never been good at this kind of thing.
Ratchet chuckled softly and pulled the red mech's head to his gently. "Do you have to ask?" Before the weapons specialist could answer to that Ratchet closed the small gap between the two, pressing his lips against Ironhide's.
"Score!" Wheeljack did a little celebration dance, ignoring the bewildered looks he was getting from Trailbreaker and Bumblebee.
Ratchet smiled warmly as he broke the kiss, brushing his fingertips along the warm plating of Ironhide's cheek. "That feels much better when I'm not overcharged."
"You're telling me," Ironhide chuckled softly and pulled the red and white mech for another soft kiss as they danced together, growing oblivious to anything else going around them.
----------------
Ironhide had no idea how they managed their way to his quarters. Their kisses had become more urgent as the night progressed and at one point they had sneaked their way out of the party. The way from the recreation room to his quarters was nothing but a blur to him - Ratchet's lips and hands over his chassis had occupied all of his attention.
The pair stumbled towards his berth, falling into the surface with a thud. The medic wasted no time straddling Ironhide's lap as the red mech closed his mouth around his throat, prompting delighted sounds from his vocalizer.
Hands traveled along armor plates, finding seams and sensitive spots to exploit. Despite the urgency of their touch and their growing desire for one another, the couple took their time in their exploration of each other's body, wishing to pleasure each other as much as possible.
Soft moans and groans filled the room, matching the sounds of armor plates pressing and connecting against each other repeatedly. "Oh, Ironhide...!" Ratchet groaned softly as he felt the red mech's hand massage a particular spot on his lower back that sent surges of pleasure coursing through his entire frame. "Primus, you h-have no idea..." He gasped as he held Ironhide's head against his chest, feeling his glossa dancing across his windshield. "H-How badly I've wanted t-this...!"
Ironhide chuckled softly, enjoying the sounds of Ratchet's impassioned voice, shuddering under the urgent but loving caresses of the medic over his own chassis. "I've wanted you... for a l-long time, Ratchet..."
"Take m-me, 'Hide!" Ratchet tossed his head back, arching his body in pleasure against his lover feeling his spark pulsing with delight and anticipation. "M-make me yours, Ironhide...!" The medic powered down his optics, concentrating what processing power he had left in his CPU into feeling the other mech against himself as his own hands reciprocated the administrations over Ironhide's body.
The weapons specialist would have found it amusing how vocal his lover was being if it wasn't for the fact he found it incredibly arousing. "Primus, Ratchet... Y-You have no idea what you d-do to me," he rasped against the CMO's throat, pulling him close against him forcing their chest plates against each other, feeling his spark stir and reach out for the medic's. "Ratchet..."
Ironhide heard a soft clicking sound before he felt a warm light bathing his chassis. The weapons specialist gasped softly at the sight of Ratchet's spark in all its glory for him to take. "Please, 'Hide..." Ratchet whispered softly rubbing his own digits over the red mech's windshield, pleading for the other's spark.
Ironhide groaned as he felt his fans struggling to cool him down. It had been too long since the last time he had interfaced with anyone and certainly never with this intensity. His spark was pulsing wildly in desperate need for Ratchet's. The red mech opened his own spark casing, bearing his very soul for the Autobot he loved.
Ratchet stared in awe at the beautiful spark before his optics for a while, gently rubbing his fingertips along Ironhide's arm before he rolled onto his back, arching his back to present his spark better for his lover. "Love you, Ironhide..."
"I love you, too." The red mech positioned himself over the medic, pressing their chests together and gasping as he felt Ratchet's spark reach to his own through little streaks of light, entwining around his spark's own filaments of light as they initiated a sensory exchange. Pleasure coursed through their bodies to a level far beyond what the tactile stimulation and energy fields alone could offer. Traces of each other's minds flew through their very eyes, offering further insight about each other's thoughts and feelings at the very moment.
"Primus...!" Ratchet gasped loudly, arching almost uncomfortably against Ironhide, wanting to be closer. Ironhide's mouth found its way back to Ratchet's throat, kissing, suckling, and nibbling his way back to his lover's lips and holding him close as their sparks sent wave after wave of pleasure, need, and love, sending warnings through their systems before they overloaded in unison between muffled cries of pleasure.
Ironhide struggled to lay on his side before collapsing by Ratchet's frame as their spark casings closed. The red mech groaned softly against the CMO's shoulder, feeling exhausted and yet oddly energized. "That... was amazing," he breathed against the warm plating decorated with a red cross.
"Very..." Ratchet agreed tiredly, his own systems struggling to stabilize and cool him down after the intense sensory overload that had just overtaken him. The two remained in relative silence for a few moments. The wheezing sounds of their internal fans filled the room.
"Ironhide?" The medic looked down to the warm face that rested against his shoulder.
"Yes?"
"What happens now?"
"Anything you want, Ratchet." Ironhide smiled and brushed dark gray digits along his lover's mouth plates. "Anything."
The medic smiled and held the other Autobot better against him, pressing his lips against the crest of Ironhide's helmet. "We could start deciding who's room we're staying in from now on."
"Do you mind if we have this talk tomorrow? I don't think I'm coherent enough for that kind of talk right now," Ironhide chuckled softly, nuzzling against Ratchet as if he was a large pillow.
"Whatever you say," the medic laughed softly, pressing his lips against the crest of his lover's helmet once more. "Pleasant rest, lover." Ratchet watched Ironhide fall quickly into a peaceful recharge as he stroked his face gently before he allowed himself to fall into recharge mode by his beloved's side, feeling at peace with the universe.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Ironhide x Ratchet, implied Prowl x Jazz, Hound x Mirage, Sunstreaker x Sideswipe x Bluestreak?
Summary: Sequel to Through the Windshield. Ratchet and Ironhide are dancing around the possibility of a relationship, prompting a mini-team of match makers to push them in the right direction.
Notes: Okay so uh, the smut part kind of sucked and the rest of the events weren't all that meaningful. But hey, people asked for Ratchet getting some akshun, and akshun he got!
Thanks to nkfloofiepoof for beta reading this for me.
Ratchet growled loudly as he threw a wrench at Sunstreaker's general direction, barely missing the head of the golden Lamborghini. The brat wasn't going to let his little 'drunken performance' die down. It had been at least two weeks since the fact, and not a single day went by without either of the Lamborghini twins or their Datsun accomplice making comments about his antics under the effects of too much high-grade.
"Get the slag out of my medical bay this instant if you want to keep your head attached your body!" the CMO barked loudly. His irritation all but increased as Sunstreaker left in a hurry with that wide grin of his. "Primus, get overcharged once, and they won't let you outlive it!"
"Everythin' alright, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as he peeked cautiously into the med-bay.
"Yes, everything is fine." The medic forced himself to keep his voice down, not wishing to snap at Ironhide of all people. "What do you need?"
Ironhide stepped further into the room, showing his arm where he sported a large dent left there probably by Brawn in a sparring match. Ratchet groaned and shook his head but pointed to the table. "I'm surprised you manage to get yourself this dented by just sparring, Ironhide. I swear you're making me work more than the slagging Lambos."
"I'm a bit distracted lately, is all. Old 'n' washed up mech, and all that." Ironhide laid on the table, giving his best sheepish smile to the CMO. In truth, Ironhide had been purposefully injuring himself to bring himself to the cares of their resident medic. It wasn't that Ironhide was a fan of pain, far from it, but he decided Ratchet needed the distraction from the constant reminders of his one wild night. Surely he could beat the scrap off the twins and Bluestreak, but that'd only mean they would spend more time with Ratchet than the medic could stand and a few days in the brig for himself.
"Drop the old-mech act already." Ratchet smiled softly already feeling his tension dissipating as his hands and instruments worked expertly over the damaged chassis. "You're really something else, Ironhide."
"I am?" the red mech chuckled softly, looking up to study Ratchet's face, always finding himself tracing each line, each curve, each plate that formed that face he considered attractive from day one.
"You can beat the scrap out of any Decepticon that crosses you with minimal damage, yet you get dents left and right doing simple things as of late. Where is your mind these days, 'Hide?" Ratchet smiled as he continued his work, feeling rather content of working over that red chassis. He had realized some time ago that, for some reason he couldn't quite pin-point, working on Ironhide's frame always managed to relax him and put his spark at ease. Minor repairs and regular tune-ups always managed to bring a sense of calm and timelessness to him, something he couldn't achieve whenever he worked on someone else's body.
"You really want to know?" Ironhide chuckled softly.
"Perhaps." The CMO smiled to the older mech idly brushing his fingertips along the red arm, feeling how much was left of the dent on the plating before he resumed his work.
"Well, I've been distracted by a certain mech with a red aft." He grinned playfully and was rewarded with a playful smack on his arm. "Hey, you asked!"
"Very funny," Ratchet laughed softly and shook his head as he resumed his work. He had remembered everything he had done when he was overcharged, so it wasn't a surprise to find himself coming back online by Ironhide's side. He remembered the kisses and the emotional support lent by the weapons specialist. However, true to his gentlebot ways, Ironhide hadn't pursued things any further, giving Ratchet time to decide if he really did want to establish any kind of relationship with him or not.
Over the days after his one-bot-show, their interaction had been cordial and friendly, but any potential steps toward a relationship had yet to be taken by either of them. Sometimes, Ironhide brushed his hand gently with his own, letting him know he was willing, but hardly made any further advances, leaving it up to the medical officer to determine the direction of their relationship.
"So," Ironhide drawled with a smile. "I heard there's going to be a little party going on tonight if Jazz can get his way. You're going?"
"I don't think that'd be a good idea." Ratchet sighed heavily, brushing his digits along the plating of the red van's arm, satisfied with his work. "The twins aren't going to leave me alone if I show my mug there."
"Aw, c'mon! You're not going to let them get the best of you now, do you? Just threaten to dirty-dance Sunstreaker again and they'll shut up!" The taller mech had to duck the playful punch the medic threw in his general direction. "Hey, watch it!"
"You're impossible. Fine, I'll go if you're going too." The white mech set aside his tools.
"I wouldn't be asking you if I weren't, " Ironhide chuckled and hopped off the table, content with having distracted the medic for a while and ease his tension. "I better go to finish some pending work now. I'll see you at the party."
-----------------------
"Explain to me again," Prowl began as he read the data pad that outlined the supplies brought in for the party. "Why are we having this party and how did you get Prime to approve of this?"
Jazz grinned playfully, leaning over the tactician's desk. "I'm doin' someone a favor. Ironhide and Ratchet need a little push in the right direction, ya know?"
"Playing match-maker, Jazz?"
"Sorta!" The saboteur laughed a bit and rested his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hands, his aft propped high on the air. "Today's also when humans celebrate their harvestin' festivals. Ya know, to cherish the good year and all that stuff. We should celebrate our good fortune, too!"
"You pick the oddest things about human culture, you know that?" Prowl tried his best to keep his optics from that black, perky aft. He was sure Jazz was doing that on purpose. "Very well. Prime approved this anyway, but we cannot compromise our security too heavily. I'm leaving Brawn, Windcharger, Cliffjumper, and Huffer to stay on patrol duty. That's as many as I can spare."
"I don't think Huffer will mind." Jazz chuckled and stood back up rather lazily, making sure to arch his form in a rather suggestive way. Prowl mentally cursed his mate's dirty tricks.
"Well, I better go get the rest of th'preparations ready. And ya better be there in time, or I'll have ta drag ya by those sexy door wings of yours." Jazz exited the second in command's office before his mate could retaliate.
"You're quite a piece of work, Jazz. You truly are." Prowl shook his head and returned to his work, deciding to hurry with it if he desired to keep his dignity and door wings intact.
---------------------
Ratchet was thankful Wheeljack had dragged him to help with the preparations for the party. He felt it was easier to just stick around than come into the party once it began. The ambient was relaxed and festive but not nearly as loud as it had been at the previous celebration, making for a rather friendly and relaxed mood.
"What are we celebrating, again?" Ironhide asked as he calmly sipped his energon cube.
"Harvesting festival I believe. Or for us, our good fortune landing in this planet and things going better for us here than they did in Cybertron?" Ratchet surmised the reasons Jazz had given for the party early on when asked the same question. "Somehow, I foresee a plethora of parties and celebrations in our future as long as Jazz can sway his way with Prime and Prowl."
"Especially the later," Ironhide chuckled softly, earning a glare from the tactician. "Just a joke!"
"Certainly," Prowl replied dryly but turned his attention back to Jazz telling some tale about his many adventures as a saboteur in Decepticon territory.
"This is a little boring, don't you think?" Bluestreak commented as he sipped on his high-grade, sitting on the largest couch with the twins.
"Maybe if we get Ratchet overcharged he'll put on another show for us!" Sideswipe grinned as widely as his face plates would allow.
"Hey, with some luck he might even pole dance! Or give Bluestreak a lap dance!" Sunstreaker laughed, ignoring the proverbial daggers Ratchet, Ironhide, and Prowl were glaring on their general direction.
"'Nough with the mockin', boys. Ya don't want me pullin' out those embarrassin' records of yours I stole from Laserbeak, now do ya?" Jazz smiled sweetly at the trio, cackling in triumph when the troublemakers decided to change the topic.
"I want copies of those records," Ratchet grumbled and sipped from his energon cube, sticking to regular this time. He really didn't want any jokes about him getting overcharged this time.
"Bribe me, " the saboteur laughed before he moved to fiddle with the music player, looking for something they could dance to. He couldn't help but grin as he found a rather bouncy song. He loved all the music the earth culture could offer to him, but among his favorites, electronic music ranked high on his list. "Hey, Sunny, this one's for ya!"
Sunstreaker looked over to Jazz as the melody began to play, quickly catching the repetitive lyrics that made up the song, 'Mister Vain' being the key word. "Why you!"
"Come on, Mr. Vain, let's go dance!" Bluestreak laughed softly, taking the golden twin's hand to drag him to the clearer area dancing to the fast, catchy melody. Jazz himself had made a point to set up the dancing mood, putting a show of his own and demonstrating his dancing expertise.
Ratchet and Ironhide laughed at the suddenly upbeat ambient in the room, finding even they were unable to fight off the uplifting properties of the music, swaying their heads and tapping their feet. "Maybe if I was overcharged enough I'd join them at the dance floor."
"Screw that. You ain't catching me dancing that if I can help it." Ironhide laughed but continued to sway his head to the beat of the song, idly wondering how Jazz could master so many dancing styles in such short amount of time.
"Pft, not if I have something to say about that." Wheeljack pushed the tall Autobots towards the 'dance floor', forcing them to bump into each other and managing to stay on their feet merely by grace of luck.
"Let's play somethin' a little easier, shall we?" Jazz played with the sound system again, looking for something still cheerful and upbeat but easier to follow. "Aha! This should do the trick."
Once again the Porsche lead the change in the rhythm of the music, dancing to a much slower but still bouncy and cheerful pace. The saboteur made his way to Ironhide and Ratchet, taking their hands and swaying in between them to show them how to move, trying to get them into the feeling of the music. It didn't take long for Ratchet to get in tune with the melody, smiling as he reclaimed full grasp of Ironhide and dancing with him contently.
Jazz danced his way to the bar where his mate was sitting with Wheeljack, Hound and Mirage long gone to the dance floor. "Here's hopin' that's all the push they're gonna need."
"With some luck," Prowl agreed and watched the two mechs dancing contently, seeming to be enjoying themselves despite the initially embarrassing situation.
"And what are you two doing here just sitting?" Wheeljack poked Prowl's chest with an accusatory finger. "You two should be on the dance floor, too!"
"Uh, I don't think so. I can't dance --hey!"
"My aft." The engineer pushed the Datsun up and shoved him right onto the dancing ground, followed by an utterly amused Jazz. "I'll take care of the sound system for you." Wheeljack gave the visored mech a 'high-five' before he made his way to the sound system to look for something slow and romantic, smiling inwardly as he found just about what he had been looking for.
The recreation room was filled by the soft, soothing rythm of the love song Wheeljack found which prompted several Autobots to hold each other close, swaying slowly to the gentle melody.
Ironhide wrapped his arms around Ratchet's waist, holding him close, swaying gently with a caring smile spread over his face plates as the medic looked up at him with an unreadable expression. "We don't have to dance this if it's makin' you uncomfortable."
Ratchet shook his head and wrapped his own arms around the red mech's neck, offering a smile of his own for the weapons specialist, swaying gently against him. "No, I'm fine."
Wheeljack looked through the dance floor, feeling satisfied with the mood he managed to create. Those who weren't dancing anymore were contently chattering through energon cubes or watching the Autobots who were still dancing, particularly the twins and Bluestreak, Hound and Mirage, Prowl and Jazz, and especially Ironhide and Ratchet. "I swear to Primus, if they don't kiss soon, I'm going to throw something at them."
As if they had heard the engineer, Hound and Mirage shared a soft kiss as they danced.
"I was talking about Ironhide and Ratchet..."
"Who are you talking to?" Trailbreaker asked curiously.
"To myself and Primus if he's listening." Wheeljack shook his head and returned his attention to the dance floor.
"Hey, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as he danced with the CMO.
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?" Ironhide felt the plating of his cheeks grow hotter, certain of the bright blush that was spreading across them. He had never been good at this kind of thing.
Ratchet chuckled softly and pulled the red mech's head to his gently. "Do you have to ask?" Before the weapons specialist could answer to that Ratchet closed the small gap between the two, pressing his lips against Ironhide's.
"Score!" Wheeljack did a little celebration dance, ignoring the bewildered looks he was getting from Trailbreaker and Bumblebee.
Ratchet smiled warmly as he broke the kiss, brushing his fingertips along the warm plating of Ironhide's cheek. "That feels much better when I'm not overcharged."
"You're telling me," Ironhide chuckled softly and pulled the red and white mech for another soft kiss as they danced together, growing oblivious to anything else going around them.
----------------
Ironhide had no idea how they managed their way to his quarters. Their kisses had become more urgent as the night progressed and at one point they had sneaked their way out of the party. The way from the recreation room to his quarters was nothing but a blur to him - Ratchet's lips and hands over his chassis had occupied all of his attention.
The pair stumbled towards his berth, falling into the surface with a thud. The medic wasted no time straddling Ironhide's lap as the red mech closed his mouth around his throat, prompting delighted sounds from his vocalizer.
Hands traveled along armor plates, finding seams and sensitive spots to exploit. Despite the urgency of their touch and their growing desire for one another, the couple took their time in their exploration of each other's body, wishing to pleasure each other as much as possible.
Soft moans and groans filled the room, matching the sounds of armor plates pressing and connecting against each other repeatedly. "Oh, Ironhide...!" Ratchet groaned softly as he felt the red mech's hand massage a particular spot on his lower back that sent surges of pleasure coursing through his entire frame. "Primus, you h-have no idea..." He gasped as he held Ironhide's head against his chest, feeling his glossa dancing across his windshield. "H-How badly I've wanted t-this...!"
Ironhide chuckled softly, enjoying the sounds of Ratchet's impassioned voice, shuddering under the urgent but loving caresses of the medic over his own chassis. "I've wanted you... for a l-long time, Ratchet..."
"Take m-me, 'Hide!" Ratchet tossed his head back, arching his body in pleasure against his lover feeling his spark pulsing with delight and anticipation. "M-make me yours, Ironhide...!" The medic powered down his optics, concentrating what processing power he had left in his CPU into feeling the other mech against himself as his own hands reciprocated the administrations over Ironhide's body.
The weapons specialist would have found it amusing how vocal his lover was being if it wasn't for the fact he found it incredibly arousing. "Primus, Ratchet... Y-You have no idea what you d-do to me," he rasped against the CMO's throat, pulling him close against him forcing their chest plates against each other, feeling his spark stir and reach out for the medic's. "Ratchet..."
Ironhide heard a soft clicking sound before he felt a warm light bathing his chassis. The weapons specialist gasped softly at the sight of Ratchet's spark in all its glory for him to take. "Please, 'Hide..." Ratchet whispered softly rubbing his own digits over the red mech's windshield, pleading for the other's spark.
Ironhide groaned as he felt his fans struggling to cool him down. It had been too long since the last time he had interfaced with anyone and certainly never with this intensity. His spark was pulsing wildly in desperate need for Ratchet's. The red mech opened his own spark casing, bearing his very soul for the Autobot he loved.
Ratchet stared in awe at the beautiful spark before his optics for a while, gently rubbing his fingertips along Ironhide's arm before he rolled onto his back, arching his back to present his spark better for his lover. "Love you, Ironhide..."
"I love you, too." The red mech positioned himself over the medic, pressing their chests together and gasping as he felt Ratchet's spark reach to his own through little streaks of light, entwining around his spark's own filaments of light as they initiated a sensory exchange. Pleasure coursed through their bodies to a level far beyond what the tactile stimulation and energy fields alone could offer. Traces of each other's minds flew through their very eyes, offering further insight about each other's thoughts and feelings at the very moment.
"Primus...!" Ratchet gasped loudly, arching almost uncomfortably against Ironhide, wanting to be closer. Ironhide's mouth found its way back to Ratchet's throat, kissing, suckling, and nibbling his way back to his lover's lips and holding him close as their sparks sent wave after wave of pleasure, need, and love, sending warnings through their systems before they overloaded in unison between muffled cries of pleasure.
Ironhide struggled to lay on his side before collapsing by Ratchet's frame as their spark casings closed. The red mech groaned softly against the CMO's shoulder, feeling exhausted and yet oddly energized. "That... was amazing," he breathed against the warm plating decorated with a red cross.
"Very..." Ratchet agreed tiredly, his own systems struggling to stabilize and cool him down after the intense sensory overload that had just overtaken him. The two remained in relative silence for a few moments. The wheezing sounds of their internal fans filled the room.
"Ironhide?" The medic looked down to the warm face that rested against his shoulder.
"Yes?"
"What happens now?"
"Anything you want, Ratchet." Ironhide smiled and brushed dark gray digits along his lover's mouth plates. "Anything."
The medic smiled and held the other Autobot better against him, pressing his lips against the crest of Ironhide's helmet. "We could start deciding who's room we're staying in from now on."
"Do you mind if we have this talk tomorrow? I don't think I'm coherent enough for that kind of talk right now," Ironhide chuckled softly, nuzzling against Ratchet as if he was a large pillow.
"Whatever you say," the medic laughed softly, pressing his lips against the crest of his lover's helmet once more. "Pleasant rest, lover." Ratchet watched Ironhide fall quickly into a peaceful recharge as he stroked his face gently before he allowed himself to fall into recharge mode by his beloved's side, feeling at peace with the universe.