OLOBA: The Light Was Yellow, Sir (31) part one
Title: OLOBA: The Light Was Yellow, Sir (31)
Characters: Movieverse, couple G1 Char. Mikaela, Jazz, Frenzy, OC (Malena), Ensemble
Rating: R for violence, cussing, and some ‘interspecies erotica’
Disclaimer: Don't drink anything while reading ANYTHING in here (including the disclaimer), as I’m too broke to replace yer shit. And I still don’t own shit but Lena. Not TF, not any movies I quote, songs I butcher, videogames, car models, coffee brands, nothing.
Note: I know I know, I pussed out on the smut last chapter. Think of it this way…buttprints. Buttprints are worth it. and this one ain't the best but I'm tired of tinkering with it. Plot shit starts next chapter. LOL OH! and many thanks to Vix for some funny-ass ideas, including the kitchen table stuff.
Summary: I still have no clue. I’m winging it. Good guys trying not to (and failing) bone each other, bad guys causin’ shit in the background, and upcoming explosions and mayhem.
Previous chapters:
29: http://cazcatharsis.livejournal.com/97172.html
30: http://cazcatharsis.livejournal.com/107135.html
(31)
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Kill.
SMASH!
“Mmmm…”
A chuckle in my hair. “You maimed your alarm clock.”
“Mmhmm.”
“What’d the poor thing ever do to you?”
“Coffee…” My voice was muffled against his neck. He smelled good.
“You’d have ta let go of me first.”
My only response was to snuggle deeper under the blanket and tighten my hold around his waist. His soft yet hard, warm, naked waist. I felt his chuckle again through the skin and muscle and smiled. God I could lay like this forever. Even with some unnameable metal bit of his other set of arms poking me in the thigh.
“Right then.” Jazz repositioned his chin so my head was tucked neatly under it and both of his bodies made a sound of absolute contentment.
We were crashed out in the middle of my living room, somehow with the two humans (or holo, whatever) squished onto the couch and the Mech-Jazz on his side between the couch and the TV, pretty much the only thing keeping us… or me, from falling off, and hell if I could remember exactly how I got here. Idly I wondered whatever happened to the table, but concluded with my sleep-muddled mind that I truly didn’t give a shit. I had a big warm metal arm curled around both me and his holo, and his holo’s arm stroking the bare skin of my back and the other holding my head up, his hand fiddling with my hair. I was warm, comfortable, and half asleep. It didn’t take long for me to drift off again, not with two warm bodies sandwiching me (one humming in that normal Autobot way, the other so goddamn huggable), and especially not with the curtains drawn so the living room had that soft morning glow to it, and… OHFUCK.
The blanket that had been drawn over us both and part of his mech-form went flying as I sat up, nearly clocking my head on the headlight on Jazz’s arm, panicked. The digital glow from the VCR told me how royally fucked I was. 7:30?!? I’M LATE FOR WORK!!!
“Hey!” said the now disgruntled holo, swatting a pillow off his face and making a grab for me.
I shook him off and wriggled halfway out from between the two bodies. “I’m so … fuckin’… fired!” On the last word I’d finally gotten free and fell off the edge of the couch, realizing only then that I was ass-naked and a little cold. I’d almost made it to Jazz’s bent knee joint when a big metal four-fingered hand wrapped around my waist, plucked me right up off the living room floor, and dropped me back where I was before.
“Calm down, I called you in sick.” Said the mechform behind me, blue optics practically glittering. The Holo nodded. I didn’t know which one to glare at.
“How’d you accomplish that?” Not that I’m complainin’… fuck work right now. Fuck it right in the ear.
Holo-Jazz made a show of clearing his throat, then opened his mouth and out came a perfect imitation of my voice, marred with the sound of phlegm. “I can’t come in today, think I caught a summer bug!” And he coughed rather convincingly.
“OHGOD, don’t DO that!” I swatted his bare chest with the back of my hand and laughed. “You don’t know how creepy that is.”
“You asked, sugar.” He replied with smiling eyes.
I hid my face in a pillow. “Ugh.”
He patted me lightly on the head. “Go back to sleep.”
I grumbled. “Can’t sleep now, I’m all… awake.” Good with words this morning, kiddo. Bravo!
“You’re runnin’ on less than three hours.” He said like it would change my mind, which in a way, it did. Ugh.
I had snuggled back under the blankets and made myself comfortable between the two bodies when another random thought occurred to me. “Can you even recharge well with your holo active?” I asked groggily.
“…sorta.”
At least he’s honest. “Then turn it off and get some proper rest.” As much as I adored the Holo-Jazz, the poor bugger needed his sleep and getting a half-assed nap for the sake of keeping me warm? Hell no. If I couldn’t be warm with 14 foot of big metal robot, no skin off my ass.
“Yes dear.” He winked, rolling me onto my back and crawling on top of me, letting me feel every inch of that skin again and giving me one last hot kiss before allowing his holo to disperse. Hot Damn!
I suddenly had so much more room on the couch and stretched with a shit-eating grin and a happy groan. I could wake up like this every damn morning. Rawr! Though unfortunately I was all horned up again and that did fuck all for lettin’ me rest. Damn Humpable Holo.
“You keep making noises like that and I’ll have ta play with ya s’more.” Said the now fully active glowy-eyed Autobot layin’ next to me. I looked over at him and grinned tiredly.
“That’s what you get for being a tease, and I’ll be walkin’ bowlegged for a week as it is.”
Jazz snickered. “I’m still a lil’ buzzed.” He admitted.
I looked him over from the tips of his funky horn things down to his cute little feet, laid out in my living room like metallic Playgirl centerfold and yet another question I only had the guts to ask when sleep-deprived popped into my head.
“Don’t you feel a little…weird?” I started hesitantly. I didn’t want to offend him, I was merely curious.
“About what?”
I grinned tightly. “This?” Gesturing at us both. Well shit, it wasn’t every day there was intergalactic porn in my living room.
His big arm curled around me a little tighter and a couple of his fingers cupped the back of my head. By some will of the Gods my hair didn’t get caught in all those gears. “What, the fact that you just fucked a car?”
The statement totally threw me for a loop. God, he’s worse than me! Around giggles I retorted, “No, the fact that you just fucked a glorified chimp.”
That got us both laughing again.
“Lena, if I was into hairy little monkeys I woulda raided the zoo.”
BAD VISUALS! BAD! I tried to hide my big wide eyes and laughter in the pillow but Jazz knew me better. He tapped me on the head with one of his fingers and rumbled at me.
“Got yourself some images now, don’tcha?”
I squealed into the pillow when I saw Jazz literally covered in spider monkeys in my head.
“S’alright, I saw you doing nasty things to my gear-shifter.”
He was smirking when I glared at him. “OW.” But on the other hand… wait, no. Nevermind. Not pliable at all.
His body made funky whirring sounds as he shifted closer to the couch. “Now that we BOTH got weird pictures in our heads, let’s try to get some shut-eye, alright?”
“I see baboons in your future…” I mumbled as I closed my eyes.
“I see you spread-eagled in my front seat, so shut up and go to sleep.”
I snickered and traced one of the headlights on his chest with a finger, finally calming down from my bleary giggle fit and smiling happily.
A sudden poke in the boob by a pointy metal finger made me squeak again. Jazz’s deep baritone teased, “You play with mine I’ll play with yours.”
I absently rubbed the offended protrusion “Gotta sand those things down…”
“What, my fingers or your titties?”
“Shhh. Sleeping.”
I drifted off easily just listening to his body’s near silent hum and with the surprisingly comfortable weight of his forearm-sized metal fingers curled around my thigh, waist and back. After so much tension and work and just general chaos, not to mention smacking into a light-post and dodging perverts, to relax like this with him was so, well, perfect. Only word for to describe the feeling was contentment. My muscles felt like jelly and I didn’t have the willpower to worry about fuck all right now. I didn’t have to move for a while yet, I finally had the guy I wanted for however long he wanted me, I was warm, and… damn, even his pointy metal bits didn’t inconvenience me in the least. It was Perfect.
I snuggled in as close to him as I could without falling off the couch and let my stress go with a nice deep relaxing breath and let myself rest.
*~*
It felt like hours later when I felt something stroking my hair, and the pleasant haze of half-sleep lifted enough to identify Jazz’s finger, not quite petting me like a cat, more like teasing the strands, stroking, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it but liked fiddling with it anyway. I would have teased him about it but I didn’t feel like going through the effort of actually talking. Instead I just smiled and poked him in the headlight again.
“Ow.”
Phhft, as if. With my eyes still closed I explored his grill with the tips of my fingers, tracing every little hexagonal indent with my pinkie and revelling in the little shudders that it brought from my new lover. This was new to me, feeling up what looked and felt like the front end of a car and having it actually react, and fully knowing that this car was fully sentient, not actually a car, but a fully intelligent, groovy, and sexy dude who had absolutely no problem groping me back. It made my ‘hard on’ for cars feel justified, like, well, it was meant to be, as tacky as it sounded. I was meant to feel up cars because one day I’d be feeling up a fully intelligent one with a thing for barely evolved monkeys. My brain giggled at the idea as I ran my nails up and down the grill just to hear the clinky sound.
Jazz rumbled and I stopped. “Tickles.”
I grinned, eyes still shut, and did it again just to make him squirm. For a 14 foot mech he sure squealed like a little girl when tickled. I got a decent grip on another part of that impressive chest and held on while he tried to squirm away, giggling. “Get offa me!”
“No. You keep waking me up. You must be punished.”
I found other bits on his chest and underneath that I deemed ticklish whenever he bucked or squealed, and assaulted them mercilessly til all I could hear from Jazz’s vocalizer were screechs and clicks and whines. It took him a minute but he somehow dislodged me and I went splat on the floor next to the TV, laughing so hard my gut hurt.
Thankful that somehow the TV went undamaged during the chaos, I rolled to face my guy only to see him staring down at with a glowing blue visor and pure evil intent.
Fuck. Run.
But it was useless from the start. Somehow I’d taken the damn sheets with me and now I was fully entangled in em, making it futile to even attempt getting to my feet. Jazz’s fingers descended on me and soon small staticy crackles ran up and down my sides, making me literally scream in defenceless laughter. And there was no way to escape it, not with the sheets wrapped around my legs and his big-ass hands holding me still. I couldn’t even kick him!
Jazz hovered above my helpless body with a smirk and asked me if I yielded.
It came out before I could stop myself. “Hell no!” Good job dumbass.
Jazz seemed to be expecting that, and that bright visor glowed even brighter as he dipped two of his fingers down, pulling the sheets away from my thighs and forced my legs apart. “You sure about that?”
‘What the hell is he planning? I’m not THAT loose’, came my automatic reaction, then I cringed internally. Ow. Where the fuck did that come from?
He must’ve seen my bug-eyed look and I had to congratulate him on keeping himself composed. But he didn’t give up anything, not a wink, not a laugh, nothing.
I trusted him though.
“I don’t yield.” I said matter-of-factly, reaching up and running my nails down his chest-grill again out of pure stupidity. He glowered at my insolence and curled a finger between my legs, pressing the heated metal lightly against me, and suddenly pureelectricalbliss shot through my entire body as he sent heavy vibrations and the slightest bit of electricity through his finger. His other fingers he used to hold me down and cover my mouth as I screamed.
He kept the vibration going for about ten seconds before lifted his finger back up again, watching me pant and try to escape. “Had enough?” He said smugly.
I took a couple deep shuddering breathes, looked him dead in the optic and told him to bite me.
He seemed about to retaliate and I was mid-cursing myself for my big mouth when Jazz suddenly stiffened. “Shit.” He got a better grip on my body, sent one final electrical discharge through me that I swear made my bones melt, rolled, and plopped me back on the couch. “I’ll get you for that later.” He muttered in my ear, then covered me as best he could with the sheets and his own body and pretended to be asleep.
What the hell?
The answer came swiftly as I heard thumping noises coming from upstairs.
Mikaela.
Mikaela. AWAKE.
Oh fuck.
Then came furious banging on the front door and the sounds of Good Morning Little Schoolgirl, muted, on the other side of the wall.
Sam and Bee.
Doublefuck. I wonder if they heard us?
Before I could make my escape to a place with clothing, Mikaela came tromping down the stairs in a rush to answer the door. I couldn’t see her but I could hear her heels pounding the wood in an unusually bouncy skip for this early in the AM. The knocking at the door kept coming but Mikaela skidded to a halt when she saw the silver Autobot splayed in her living room.
“Jazz?” Her voice was both curious and disbelieving, and getting closer.
Making sure I was completely covered from my sister’s view, Jazz turned his big head to her. “Heya Mouse! Yer lookin’ extra perky this mornin’!”
A silence followed, and if my face wasn’t smushed against this bundle of wirey things I would have peeked.
“Why are you in the living room?” Mikaela asked, taking a few steps closer to the front door. She must have a magnificent view of his feet.
Jazz with the ease of an accomplished pimp, stretched the arm not covering my shrouded form and groaned. “Wanted to stretch mah limbs out. It ain’t fun bein’ all folded up into car-mode night ‘n day, ya know.”
Mikaela stepped closer, now completely ignoring the continued knocking and now yelling Sam. “Okay… I can see that.” Then she switched tones, to something a little more accusatory. I mentally pictured her standing with hip cocked and arms folded. “So riddle me this, Batman. Who’s thong is hanging from your side mirror?”
***
~TBC RIGHT HERE.
le squee.