The results of Okami waking up too early and staying up too late.
Title Star-crossed: Off Shoot (chapter-something-or-other/far-too-slagging-many)
Characters Prowl/Sideswipe, Sunstreaker
Warnings Use of Handcuffs, and mech on mech action, and I’m a horrible tease.
Summary BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Author’s Note A much needed break from the Halifax Arc, this is. Deep and meaningful plot, it has not. For this, tiamat1972 I do blame . Taking place sometime after Halifax, it does.
Edit: I added some more and changed some stuff around.
The vidscreen played in the background, a jumble of noise that meant nothing to the two mechs on the couch. Ventilators hissed, shivering with the exertions of cooling heated engines.
White hands caressed over the red finish, tracing a seam just underneath one arm. That seam parted for the mech’s transformation. It also opened his chestplate, where it would reveal a laser core in the midst of ventilators and a powerful engine. Underneath that laser core laid the mech’s spark chamber, and that glow he knew almost as well as his own. He did not open the chestplate however, though he knew where the release for it lay. Instead, the fingers traveled up, across a vast expanse of flat red plating until they could play over a transformation hook. This locked his hood into place, and when he took his fingers and drew them over the corners, like so…
A whine gasped out of the other’s vocalizer, and the engine revved beneath the red plating. Hands clattered against the back of the black helm, arms jerking against the thin pieces of metal that held them in place. All he had to do was pull, and the mech could be free of the simple device, the metal wouldn’t stand a chance against that much applied force.
The officer didn’t worry, though. Sideswipe wouldn’t do it. Not when it was Prowl over him, and Prowl’s hands and mouth working him into such a frenzy. Not when Prowl ran through his settings, and tweaked his sensors. He also severely doubted the mech’s processing capabilities to even think of and implement such a solution at that breem
It wouldn’t be long now, Prowl could tell by the revolutions of the other’s engine, the pitch of its whine. It wouldn’t be long until he overloaded from the sensory input, and the data that Prowl poured through their hardline connection.
Prowl had spent the last thirty breem slowly seducing the mech’s attention away from the vidscreen. He had started at Sideswipe’s feet, manipulating the toe joint in gentle circles and tickling the mech’s mag plates until Sideswipe laughingly jerked them from his hands. He’d meandered his way up the black legs and over the white thighs, taking his time to explore nooks and crannies he knew all too well by now. When Prowl had reached the red chestplate, Sideswipe’s engine was purring softly in his chest. By the time Prowl had forced his lover’s hands over the black head and shackled them to his neck, he had Sideswipe’s undivided attention.
He shifted his weight over to one leg, his jointed knee covers squeaking across the silicon cushions. Their hips pressed together, but it wasn’t enough. So Prowl braced his hands on his lover’s frame and straddled the mech’s thighs. Comfortably settled in Sideswipe’s lap, he moved his attention over to the empty missile latch, delving into the well worn hooks and holes that held the launcher in place. His other hand slid around the black helm, twitching the fingers out of the ball they’d curled themselves into and pinching the corners of his audio horns.
Sideswipe whimpered and moaned under his hands, the silver alloy manacles clinking and clattering with his movements.
A smile crawled across the officer’s face, optics burning with the heat of his own arousal. “Not much longer now, not much more.” The words slipped unintentionally from his vocalizer; an echo of his thoughts, and proof of how close his own overload lay. But Sideswipe first…
Sideswipe yelped as the words breezed across the seam of his cheek. His mouth opened, inviting more of a touch; his bright blue optics staring unseeing at the ceiling.
The vidscreen droned on behind Prowl, “-look like a Towers mech at these closeout prices!”
Prowl’s doorwings canted back, and he leaned forward to tease his mouth over his lover’s lips. He didn’t stay, however; he had better things planned for his mouth. Still, he got his desired result.
The Toughline’s engine kicked up another notch.
Two more, Prowl calculated, and the mech would go over the edge. Then he too could indulge in the overload building in his circuits.
The officer’s mouth closed on his soldier’s neck, the cables rough on his lips, a fuel line collapsing between his dental plates.
The mech jumped, crying out in surprise, the manacles audibly creaking and strained to the breaking point. Sideswipe’s engine revved, the gears whining against the heat of friction and the speed of his belts. “Prr~wl Mo~r Pl~s.”
“Hey Sides, are you still watching-OH SLAGGING PRIMUS!!”
Prowl flattened himself against Sideswipe, but not before he caught a glimpse of gold at the door. “SHUT THE DOOR!”
The golden mech turned around and slapped the controls on the wall, and the door hissed closed. Sunstreaker was on the wrong side of it, a thought that appeared to occur to him when he swore vehemently. He glanced back, only to wince toward the wall again. “Why the slag are you two in here doing… doing-fraggit-THAT!!”
Prowl gripped the red twin’s shoulders and glared at the golden mech. “What kind of question is that? Why aren’t you still at Jazz’s party. I thought you would know what we’re doing…”
Sunstreaker finally turned, but only to shoot a most piercing glare at his brother. “I didn’t know it was still you. Sideswipe! ”
The red mech didn’t respond, his engine never having stopped its insistent purr and his optics locked on the ceiling.
Prowl frowned, irritated at this interruption to his play time. He hadn’t even let the slagging stupid program that Sideswipe had wanted to see deter him, but this! “Sideswipe, didn’t you tell Sunstreaker our plans?”
No response, except for a soft whine as Prowl shook the mech.
Pinching his lips together, he took hold of the warrior’s chin and forced the head upright. “Pay attention, soldier.”
“…huh? Wha- what?” Sideswipe tried to pull his hands away from his head, but the manacles still held them in place.
“You were fragging him senseless??”
Prowl turned a speculative look on the oblivious mech. “Well, that was the intent…”
Sunstreaker whipped back around and began to bang his head against the wall, surprisingly mindless of the damage done to his paint. “I do not need that image in my processor!”
“Huh…?” The shout seemed to draw Sideswipe’s attention. “Sunny? Why are you in here?”
Sunstreaker cast another angry glare over his shoulder, before resuming his personal form of percussive maintenance. “Slagging wishing I wasn’t right now! Could you please unchain him, Prowl? Seriously, this is too much. You two are disgusting! I think I’m going to purge.”
Sideswipe still looked about in confusion, optics sliding from brother to lover. “…huh?”
The golden hands fumbled at the control panel, and Prowl flattened himself against the red mech again, trying to duck his doorspan behind the couch. “Sunstreaker!”
“I’m not staying here for this. I didn’t see anything, nothing, nothing at all is happening in my room. OH PRIMUS, I USE THAT COUCH TOO!!” The door finally slid open and the tirade continued on out the door.
Prowl didn’t rise until he no longer heard the angry sputterings of the golden mech.
Still frowning, Prowl gave his lover a narrow-opticked look. He sat back to regard Sideswipe, no longer quite as excited or eager as before, though the mech seemed oblivious to the attention.
Sideswipe’s engine whined at a pitch that made Prowl’s chest ache in sympathy. He didn’t think he had to worry about Sunstreaker accidentally letting anything slip, but it would be better to vacate before someone investigated
He didn’t want to just leave Sideswipe like this, though.
Prowl reached down, and grabbed the bottom corner of Sideswipe’s chest plate, while the other dug into the wires and cables that attached shoulder to chest. He lowered his mouth until it hovered just next to an audio horn. “Ssiiideswiiipe.”
The mech tensed, engine roaring, optics flaring brightly, and the hands clenched. Sideswipe cried out, his vocalizer shrieking with feedback, and his arms jerked away from his head, the metal restraints breaking with a sharp snap.
Prowl disengaged himself with a sigh. He slipped off the couch and shook his plating straight. “Next time we use my quarters, even if I have to turn my vidscreen to that despicable programming.”
Sideswipe panted, slouching on the couch. He stared blankly at the on-screen match. “‘Kay…”
Prowl swept his optics over the red mech’s frame one last time, and permitted a smirk to show on his face. In their continued little game for one to distract the other from what they were doing, Prowl decided he’d won this round. Sideswipe might be looking at the vidscreen, but Prowl would have bet the Autobot’s energon supplies that the game was the last thing on the warrior’s processor.