TF: Optics are the Window to the Spark
Rating: NC-17
Series: G1
Pairings: Prowl/Red Alert
Summary: A glance between Prowl and Red Alert may reveal more than they wish, but what they truly want.
Warnings: PnP style interfacing
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_speedwriting Saturday 30th July - prompt - Mamihlapinatapai. Not entirely sure I got the prompt, but it’s a story? And it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Prompt: 3
Time: About an hour in between work?
They sat opposite one another, seemingly paying attention to what each other was saying. But a look in their processors told a completely different tale.
Red Alert stared at Prowl, optics flicking down to check some small detail on his datapad as he outlined the latest upgrades to the security system. His optics lingered briefly on the tactician’s doorwings, flared out high behind him, imagining the feel of them beneath his fingertips. He thought they would feel smooth, and he knew that they were filled with sensors. What sort of noises could he evoke from the famously cool mech?
He imagined himself pinning Prowl to his own desk, feeling that frame tense under his own as he stroked those doorwings. He imagined Prowl shuddering, whining his name, before he muffled any noises with a deep, heated kiss. He could almost feel Prowl’s hands on his, clutching at his plating before he grabbed them and secured them in a pair of handcuffs. Prowl would arch against the desk, but he would accept it, beg for more as Red Alert smoothed his hands over that pristine plating, the white looking completely different to his own, set against the black.
He would feel his way across the frame laid out willingly beneath him, fingers dipping into armor seams and catching against the wires beneath, Prowl’s pleas becoming more and more frequent before finally, he’d snap open Prowl’s interface cover. He’d toy with the cable for a little while perhaps, just to hear Prowl beg once more before pulling it out and connecting it to himself. Pulling his own cable out, he’d brush the connectors against Prowl’s port, watching Prowl’s reaction before pushing it home. And then, then they’d overload together, Red Alert’s fingers buried deep in Prowl’s wiring as the tactician wailed his name.
“Red Alert?” Red Alert overrode the instruction for his cooling fans to switch on as Prowl caught his attention.
“My apologies. As I was saying…”
As Red Alert continued in his report, Prowl found his attention wandering. His optics focussed on Red Alert’s fingers as they tapped on his datapad. They looked slender and delicate, yet Prowl knew they were strong. He wondered how they would feel as they ghosted across his plating, circling his headlights. He pictured Red Alert on his desk, face tilted up, and optics offline in pleasure as he stroked Prowl’s plating, doing everything the mech ordered. He would order the mech to lie back, hands above his head and to let Prowl do whatever he wished. The absolute trust Red Alert would show as he did so, hands grasping the other edge of the desk made Prowl’s spark throb. He would reverently trace Red Alert’s Autobot symbol, hands smoothing down the mech’s plating, cleaner and sharper than even his own.
Red Alert would gasp as he drew closer and closer to the mech’s interface panel. He’d trace it, ordering Red Alert to open it, and the mech would. He’d whimper as Prowl traced around his port, optics pleading with Prowl to plug in. And Prowl would, sinking his connector home slowly, savoring the feel of Red Alert’s systems integrating with his own.
“Prowl?” Prowl cycled his optics to find Red Alert staring at him, head tilted quizzically. “Are you quite all right?”
“I am, Red Alert. Please, continue.” He met Red Alert’s optics, and for a moment, saw the same desires reflected there before Red Alert dropped his optics back to his datapad.