Pacification Point - Chapter 1 - Taming the Beast
Title: Pascification Point - Taming the Beast
Characters: Drift, Perceptor, more to come
Description: The war is over, with the neutrals siding with Shockwave and the Decepticons to take back and rebuild Cybertron, but what does that mean for the autobots?
Warnings: Sexual Tension, Intercrural Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sticky robohumps
Idea I had while making up a speed-paint doodle one day. Fandom has been throwing around the idea that Drift's helm bits might feel good to him when touched for a while, and I've seen fics/art on it. And I thought, well, what if that originated in Crystal city? What if they put in a way to make him settle down without being physically dominated with violence, something they probably thought was more humane?
Now what if they never wound up having to use it, and Drift had no idea it was there?
This is just going to be a little fun thing I write for when I feel like it, but it won't be many chapters, in any case.
Perceptor woke groggily, aware of a body sliding into bed next to him. Sleek and warm, engine purring, fingers tracing patterns around the glass of his chest, thumbs finding the seams. A leg thrown over his own, crooking to stroke his treads, pressed close, thigh to thigh.
Someone had come home eager.
"Hey there." Drift laid his head on Perceptor's shoulder, nosing his way into the larger mech's neck. "Did I wake you?" He squeezed his thighs around Perceptor's now captive leg, squirming a little as he did it. "Are you still tired?" A hot little array grinding into him. Tired? Well, not anymore he wasn't. His hands found Drift's waist and he smoothed them up his ribstruts, feeling his own engines heat up at the appreciative rumble that caused. Drift squirmed his way down a little until his helm cleared Perceptor's chin. Now the swordsmech was tilting his head up to nibble the scientist's jaw, while his fingers played with the tubing that snaked down his sides.
Perceptor tipped his head up, enjoying the attention and returning it, stroking one hand down to that pert little aft, bringing the other up to pet the back of Drift's neck and rub his shoulders. It must have been a long day for Drift, too. He could have laid like that with the racer for a while, lazy and content, but Drift clearly had more in mind, riding up and down the thigh he had continued to squeeze. Perceptor tipped his head to find Drift's mouth, but he ducked away. At the same time Drift arched his back and pulled away from the hand that had been dipping down between his thighs. When Perceptor tried to pull him closer again, that hot little mouth became hostile, and he found himself nipped.
"Drift-"
Small, strong hands squeezed at his ribstuts, dragging down his sides, and the squirming continued. Further attempts to pull his lover closer resulted in getting nipped again.
"Drift."
The Lost Light's third in command found himself dumped on the floor by the berth. Perceptor pushed him back down with his foot when he tried to climb back up.
"Hey!-"
"Oh no you don't. I know exactly what you're doing, and you can go work that off somewhere else before you come slinking back up here."
"Exactly doing what? I'm just trying to get a little intimate-"
"Granted, but you're acting on it with that bad habit of yours. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You get stuck doing regulation work and important compiling that Rodimus doesn't have the patience for, you don't work off any of the energy your frame type, and frankly you, especially, need to burn off. After which, you always come back here all wired up."
From the floor, the racer puffed up, looking offended. "Well if you don't like helping me use that up, that's news to me."
"I have no issue helping you 'use that up'. I take issue with you waking me up from some sorely needed recharge by teasing me awake, insinuating you'd like me to take you, then forcing me to roll around the berth wrestling you in some little dominance scheme, until I'm too worn out and fed up to bother with the actual interface, and we both go to bed frustrated. So no, we are not doing that- Drift!"
Tirade ignored, Drift had worked out a way to vault back onto the berth and tackled Perceptor, pining his wrists and practically vibrating with pent up energy. Perceptor didn't have much of a hope against the former con's hand to hand skills, but this wasn't the first time this had happened, and he wasn't completely outmatched. Curling up toward Drift, he grabbed the smaller mech with his knees and used the momentum to then furl up toward him and roll them both over. Drift struggled, trying to grind up against the heavy scientist's array, but was effectively pinned. Perceptor was now using Drift's own hold against him.
"Have you any idea how frustrating this is? You get me all aroused with want for you, and then you make me fight you for it. That's fun occasionally, but you do this far too frequently. Have you any idea how harrowing it is trying to satisfy your need to tussle, while trying not to accidentally crush you? You're a fair size for your frame-type, but you are built for speed. I'm classified as a tank now, Drift- a tank!"
"It's just foreplay, why are you griping so much about it?" Drift tried to curl up and hook his knees around Perceptor's waist in a similar trick to what had just been pulled on him, but lacked the mass to make the maneuver work. He wriggled, frustrated. "You were all into this two kliks ago, come on!"
Perceptor spread his legs until Drift had to drop down or become uncomfortable, then lowered himself, effectively trapping an increasingly frustrated ex-con. He could feel vents puffing against him, Drift's limbs twisting and trying to squirm out from under him, but he was stuck and they both knew it.
"That's cheating!"
"I am simply using my own assets to my advantage. You have superior close combat and hand to hand skills, so I am using my greater mass and reach to my advantage. There is hardly anything that could be noted as foul play in that."
"You're not supposed to use your weight if I'm not using my life skills- we agreed. Damnit Perceptor, get up!" An arm scooped it's way under him and Drift attempted to force it out by pushing down at it. He didn't have any room to lend proper swing to a punch, so Perceptor had let go of his arms in favour of holding him close.
"Don't you fragging cuddle me! I'm torqued and I'm leaving, let me up!" Perceptor attempted to kiss him, but he wouldn't have any of it. The scientist settled for rubbing the back of his neck instead.
"Drift, settle down, please. I'm happy to help you burn this off, I'm just not getting into fisticuffs with you about it. Let me take care of it, and we can both get some recharge. Ow!- don't bite!" He had to arch his neck away, Drift glowering up at him. "I am using my weight because I am not playing your rough housing games right now. The rules do not apply. Drift, please just-"
The racer was arching his back now, trying to buck his captor off, but had no leverage and absolutely no weight to throw around in this position. Perceptor kept one arm wrapped around Drift's waist and used the other to cup the back of Drift's head, forcefully cradling Drift against him and impeding further efforts to throw him off.
"Stop it!"
"I'll let you up when you cease to act like a deranged beast." Running his thumb up and down Drift's helm fin in an attempt to sooth, Perceptor sighed. "Explain this to me, will you? Help me understand. Is this a frame issue? A problem of being pent up when you're made to careen breakneck down roads? A warrior thing? New life routine opposing the kind of activity your body is accustomed to? I want to help find a solution that works for us both, but you need to communicate your needs to me. Drift? Drift?"
Drift wasn't moving.
"Drift!" Perceptor pushed himself off and leaned to the side, one hand on Drift's dorsal vent. Had he crushed something inadvertently? Covered an important heat exit? "Are you alright?" Air puffed up against the back of his fingers- well, that was one relief. He'd kept one hand at the back of Drift's head, cradling it, and now Drift pushed his helm back into it, making a discomfited sound. Perceptor looked up immediately at the noise- it wasn't something Drift would usually utter, which was worrying.
"Are you hurt?"
"Touch me."
"Drift?"
He was squirming now, hands clinging and clawing insistently at Perceptor's arm and twisting his head back and forth into the scientist's long fingers. "Touch me again, I like that."
Cautiously, Perceptor ran one finger up. The response was instantaneous. Drift bit his lip and pushed into him, engine rumbling softly, hands clinging to whatever hold they could find.
"Mmmmmyeah. Yeah."
"You- like this? This is good?"
"Yeah." Everything he said was soft and breathy, and just very subdued. The empirical part of Perceptor's mind wanted to examine this, while the lover in him felt conflicted, stuck between worry and wanting to examine just as much as the first half did, if not for the same reasons. This behaviour wasn't very like the Drift he was familiar with, especially when he'd come home so wound up with energy. Even at his calmest Drift had trouble allowing himself to enjoy Perceptor's more tender attentions.
Drift had said something- Perceptor broke himself out of his internal analysis to pay better attention.
"I said, what did you want to do?"
"To what do you refer?"
"Before, when you were on top of me. What did you want to do?"
"I didn't want to wrestle you into submission, mostly. I told you as much."
"'Sides that. You said you wanted to take care of me. What did you want to do?" Drift sprawled out, displaying the gaps in his plating and leaving himself open as physically possible. "Show me."
"Drift-"
The only response he got was a whine and Drift rolling himself up against him with a shiver.
Well, alright then. Perceptor still felt worried, but he'd just keep an eye out and be gentle. First hint of reluctance or confusion, he'd stop immediately. It wasn't often Drift was completely passive for him like this, and it was something Perceptor craved, this chance to be gentle. He didn't want to look the gift horse in the mouth, but it was the fact this didn't happen often was what made Perceptor so reluctant to proceed.
"Drift, are you sure this is what you want to do now?" His optics were shuttered again and he just lay there, head angled into Perceptor's hand. "Drift?"
"Mmmmnnyeah?"
"Did you hear me ask you a question?"
"Yes...yes. Go'head. I want you to." When Perceptor hesitated, Drift lazily pawed at his chest with a sigh, hand slipping off haphazardly. "Yes please"
Carefully, Perceptor pulled Drift up to him, and rolled both of them over so that Drift lay sprawled across his body. The swordsmech sighed a little and squirmed until he fit comfortably into every crevice like a puzzle piece.
Perceptor pet his back. "Comfortable?"
"Mmmm." Apparently the base of the finial was the part that felt best. Noted.
He continued to rub Drift's head and let his other hand caress down his back, between those strong, round thighs. Perceptor's pointer and pinkie found their way into Drift's pelvic joints while his middle fingers rubbed firmly against the valve cover. It slid open after a few strokes, and Perceptor felt Drift arch down into his palm, leaning his neck up to maintain contact with the hand on his head at the same time. Perceptor felt him grinding his valve's frontal node against his fingers, so kept his own movement to a minimum so Drift could do what he liked.
And what he liked was honestly turning Perceptor on in the best of ways. Drift had stayed pressed against him in every way he could, hands clinging, thighs clamped down over his. His head was tipped back into the still rubbing fingers, mouth slighted parted, optics alternately shut or just slightly open, gaze distant and fogged in pleasure.
"Oh, oh, nnn-ceptor- ah, ah, ohnnnn-"
Sweet Primus, that was extremely, and utterly, devastatingly arousing. This was a whole new side of Drift, and while Perceptor was still worried at the sudden change, certain parts of him were demanding he acknowledge that it was also, very, very nice.
"ooohnp'ceptor, ooohnceptor, oohyes, ooohnplease, please-"
The next thing Perceptor knew his cord was out and rubbing against Drift's valve. The racer bit his lip and moaned, clenching his thighs around it.
"What would you like Drift?"
"Ohplease, oh please-"
"Would you like this?"
"Oh yes, ohplease oh please, oh yes-"
It didn't take long for Drift to overload with a little cry, pulling taught as a bow string before slumping with a moan. Perceptor found himself finishing soon after with a bit of thrusting between Drift's now slack limbs. He was so riled up by what he'd gotten to participate in, his cord had needed comparatively little stimulus. Sated, he squeezed Drift's aft.
"Oh Drift, that was- oh. Thank you. I think we both needed that, thank you for allowing me to-"
Ah. Unaware of the world, Drift had already passed out. Perceptor smiled. He loved those rare moments when he was awake and Drift was recharging. It was one of the few times Drift's face was completely unguarded. It was easy to forget how young he could look, when the weight of his life was gone for a few blissful hours. Not wanting to wake him from his much needed rest, Perceptor tucked Drift's head back under his chin and decided they could clean up when they woke.
They'd had a rare evening. He wanted to recharge now too, and preserve it on that sweet note. He'd question Drift again in the morning if his behaviour was still a bit strange.
But for now, he had a puddle of mech lying heavy and warm on his chassis, engine purring in happiness. Yes. It could wait.
For now, he just wanted to enjoy.
Characters: Drift, Perceptor, more to come
Description: The war is over, with the neutrals siding with Shockwave and the Decepticons to take back and rebuild Cybertron, but what does that mean for the autobots?
Warnings: Sexual Tension, Intercrural Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sticky robohumps
Idea I had while making up a speed-paint doodle one day. Fandom has been throwing around the idea that Drift's helm bits might feel good to him when touched for a while, and I've seen fics/art on it. And I thought, well, what if that originated in Crystal city? What if they put in a way to make him settle down without being physically dominated with violence, something they probably thought was more humane?
Now what if they never wound up having to use it, and Drift had no idea it was there?
This is just going to be a little fun thing I write for when I feel like it, but it won't be many chapters, in any case.
Perceptor woke groggily, aware of a body sliding into bed next to him. Sleek and warm, engine purring, fingers tracing patterns around the glass of his chest, thumbs finding the seams. A leg thrown over his own, crooking to stroke his treads, pressed close, thigh to thigh.
Someone had come home eager.
"Hey there." Drift laid his head on Perceptor's shoulder, nosing his way into the larger mech's neck. "Did I wake you?" He squeezed his thighs around Perceptor's now captive leg, squirming a little as he did it. "Are you still tired?" A hot little array grinding into him. Tired? Well, not anymore he wasn't. His hands found Drift's waist and he smoothed them up his ribstruts, feeling his own engines heat up at the appreciative rumble that caused. Drift squirmed his way down a little until his helm cleared Perceptor's chin. Now the swordsmech was tilting his head up to nibble the scientist's jaw, while his fingers played with the tubing that snaked down his sides.
Perceptor tipped his head up, enjoying the attention and returning it, stroking one hand down to that pert little aft, bringing the other up to pet the back of Drift's neck and rub his shoulders. It must have been a long day for Drift, too. He could have laid like that with the racer for a while, lazy and content, but Drift clearly had more in mind, riding up and down the thigh he had continued to squeeze. Perceptor tipped his head to find Drift's mouth, but he ducked away. At the same time Drift arched his back and pulled away from the hand that had been dipping down between his thighs. When Perceptor tried to pull him closer again, that hot little mouth became hostile, and he found himself nipped.
"Drift-"
Small, strong hands squeezed at his ribstuts, dragging down his sides, and the squirming continued. Further attempts to pull his lover closer resulted in getting nipped again.
"Drift."
The Lost Light's third in command found himself dumped on the floor by the berth. Perceptor pushed him back down with his foot when he tried to climb back up.
"Hey!-"
"Oh no you don't. I know exactly what you're doing, and you can go work that off somewhere else before you come slinking back up here."
"Exactly doing what? I'm just trying to get a little intimate-"
"Granted, but you're acting on it with that bad habit of yours. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You get stuck doing regulation work and important compiling that Rodimus doesn't have the patience for, you don't work off any of the energy your frame type, and frankly you, especially, need to burn off. After which, you always come back here all wired up."
From the floor, the racer puffed up, looking offended. "Well if you don't like helping me use that up, that's news to me."
"I have no issue helping you 'use that up'. I take issue with you waking me up from some sorely needed recharge by teasing me awake, insinuating you'd like me to take you, then forcing me to roll around the berth wrestling you in some little dominance scheme, until I'm too worn out and fed up to bother with the actual interface, and we both go to bed frustrated. So no, we are not doing that- Drift!"
Tirade ignored, Drift had worked out a way to vault back onto the berth and tackled Perceptor, pining his wrists and practically vibrating with pent up energy. Perceptor didn't have much of a hope against the former con's hand to hand skills, but this wasn't the first time this had happened, and he wasn't completely outmatched. Curling up toward Drift, he grabbed the smaller mech with his knees and used the momentum to then furl up toward him and roll them both over. Drift struggled, trying to grind up against the heavy scientist's array, but was effectively pinned. Perceptor was now using Drift's own hold against him.
"Have you any idea how frustrating this is? You get me all aroused with want for you, and then you make me fight you for it. That's fun occasionally, but you do this far too frequently. Have you any idea how harrowing it is trying to satisfy your need to tussle, while trying not to accidentally crush you? You're a fair size for your frame-type, but you are built for speed. I'm classified as a tank now, Drift- a tank!"
"It's just foreplay, why are you griping so much about it?" Drift tried to curl up and hook his knees around Perceptor's waist in a similar trick to what had just been pulled on him, but lacked the mass to make the maneuver work. He wriggled, frustrated. "You were all into this two kliks ago, come on!"
Perceptor spread his legs until Drift had to drop down or become uncomfortable, then lowered himself, effectively trapping an increasingly frustrated ex-con. He could feel vents puffing against him, Drift's limbs twisting and trying to squirm out from under him, but he was stuck and they both knew it.
"That's cheating!"
"I am simply using my own assets to my advantage. You have superior close combat and hand to hand skills, so I am using my greater mass and reach to my advantage. There is hardly anything that could be noted as foul play in that."
"You're not supposed to use your weight if I'm not using my life skills- we agreed. Damnit Perceptor, get up!" An arm scooped it's way under him and Drift attempted to force it out by pushing down at it. He didn't have any room to lend proper swing to a punch, so Perceptor had let go of his arms in favour of holding him close.
"Don't you fragging cuddle me! I'm torqued and I'm leaving, let me up!" Perceptor attempted to kiss him, but he wouldn't have any of it. The scientist settled for rubbing the back of his neck instead.
"Drift, settle down, please. I'm happy to help you burn this off, I'm just not getting into fisticuffs with you about it. Let me take care of it, and we can both get some recharge. Ow!- don't bite!" He had to arch his neck away, Drift glowering up at him. "I am using my weight because I am not playing your rough housing games right now. The rules do not apply. Drift, please just-"
The racer was arching his back now, trying to buck his captor off, but had no leverage and absolutely no weight to throw around in this position. Perceptor kept one arm wrapped around Drift's waist and used the other to cup the back of Drift's head, forcefully cradling Drift against him and impeding further efforts to throw him off.
"Stop it!"
"I'll let you up when you cease to act like a deranged beast." Running his thumb up and down Drift's helm fin in an attempt to sooth, Perceptor sighed. "Explain this to me, will you? Help me understand. Is this a frame issue? A problem of being pent up when you're made to careen breakneck down roads? A warrior thing? New life routine opposing the kind of activity your body is accustomed to? I want to help find a solution that works for us both, but you need to communicate your needs to me. Drift? Drift?"
Drift wasn't moving.
"Drift!" Perceptor pushed himself off and leaned to the side, one hand on Drift's dorsal vent. Had he crushed something inadvertently? Covered an important heat exit? "Are you alright?" Air puffed up against the back of his fingers- well, that was one relief. He'd kept one hand at the back of Drift's head, cradling it, and now Drift pushed his helm back into it, making a discomfited sound. Perceptor looked up immediately at the noise- it wasn't something Drift would usually utter, which was worrying.
"Are you hurt?"
"Touch me."
"Drift?"
He was squirming now, hands clinging and clawing insistently at Perceptor's arm and twisting his head back and forth into the scientist's long fingers. "Touch me again, I like that."
Cautiously, Perceptor ran one finger up. The response was instantaneous. Drift bit his lip and pushed into him, engine rumbling softly, hands clinging to whatever hold they could find.
"Mmmmmyeah. Yeah."
"You- like this? This is good?"
"Yeah." Everything he said was soft and breathy, and just very subdued. The empirical part of Perceptor's mind wanted to examine this, while the lover in him felt conflicted, stuck between worry and wanting to examine just as much as the first half did, if not for the same reasons. This behaviour wasn't very like the Drift he was familiar with, especially when he'd come home so wound up with energy. Even at his calmest Drift had trouble allowing himself to enjoy Perceptor's more tender attentions.
Drift had said something- Perceptor broke himself out of his internal analysis to pay better attention.
"I said, what did you want to do?"
"To what do you refer?"
"Before, when you were on top of me. What did you want to do?"
"I didn't want to wrestle you into submission, mostly. I told you as much."
"'Sides that. You said you wanted to take care of me. What did you want to do?" Drift sprawled out, displaying the gaps in his plating and leaving himself open as physically possible. "Show me."
"Drift-"
The only response he got was a whine and Drift rolling himself up against him with a shiver.
Well, alright then. Perceptor still felt worried, but he'd just keep an eye out and be gentle. First hint of reluctance or confusion, he'd stop immediately. It wasn't often Drift was completely passive for him like this, and it was something Perceptor craved, this chance to be gentle. He didn't want to look the gift horse in the mouth, but it was the fact this didn't happen often was what made Perceptor so reluctant to proceed.
"Drift, are you sure this is what you want to do now?" His optics were shuttered again and he just lay there, head angled into Perceptor's hand. "Drift?"
"Mmmmnnyeah?"
"Did you hear me ask you a question?"
"Yes...yes. Go'head. I want you to." When Perceptor hesitated, Drift lazily pawed at his chest with a sigh, hand slipping off haphazardly. "Yes please"
Carefully, Perceptor pulled Drift up to him, and rolled both of them over so that Drift lay sprawled across his body. The swordsmech sighed a little and squirmed until he fit comfortably into every crevice like a puzzle piece.
Perceptor pet his back. "Comfortable?"
"Mmmm." Apparently the base of the finial was the part that felt best. Noted.
He continued to rub Drift's head and let his other hand caress down his back, between those strong, round thighs. Perceptor's pointer and pinkie found their way into Drift's pelvic joints while his middle fingers rubbed firmly against the valve cover. It slid open after a few strokes, and Perceptor felt Drift arch down into his palm, leaning his neck up to maintain contact with the hand on his head at the same time. Perceptor felt him grinding his valve's frontal node against his fingers, so kept his own movement to a minimum so Drift could do what he liked.
And what he liked was honestly turning Perceptor on in the best of ways. Drift had stayed pressed against him in every way he could, hands clinging, thighs clamped down over his. His head was tipped back into the still rubbing fingers, mouth slighted parted, optics alternately shut or just slightly open, gaze distant and fogged in pleasure.
"Oh, oh, nnn-ceptor- ah, ah, ohnnnn-"
Sweet Primus, that was extremely, and utterly, devastatingly arousing. This was a whole new side of Drift, and while Perceptor was still worried at the sudden change, certain parts of him were demanding he acknowledge that it was also, very, very nice.
"ooohnp'ceptor, ooohnceptor, oohyes, ooohnplease, please-"
The next thing Perceptor knew his cord was out and rubbing against Drift's valve. The racer bit his lip and moaned, clenching his thighs around it.
"What would you like Drift?"
"Ohplease, oh please-"
"Would you like this?"
"Oh yes, ohplease oh please, oh yes-"
It didn't take long for Drift to overload with a little cry, pulling taught as a bow string before slumping with a moan. Perceptor found himself finishing soon after with a bit of thrusting between Drift's now slack limbs. He was so riled up by what he'd gotten to participate in, his cord had needed comparatively little stimulus. Sated, he squeezed Drift's aft.
"Oh Drift, that was- oh. Thank you. I think we both needed that, thank you for allowing me to-"
Ah. Unaware of the world, Drift had already passed out. Perceptor smiled. He loved those rare moments when he was awake and Drift was recharging. It was one of the few times Drift's face was completely unguarded. It was easy to forget how young he could look, when the weight of his life was gone for a few blissful hours. Not wanting to wake him from his much needed rest, Perceptor tucked Drift's head back under his chin and decided they could clean up when they woke.
They'd had a rare evening. He wanted to recharge now too, and preserve it on that sweet note. He'd question Drift again in the morning if his behaviour was still a bit strange.
But for now, he had a puddle of mech lying heavy and warm on his chassis, engine purring in happiness. Yes. It could wait.
For now, he just wanted to enjoy.