Insomnia

Perceptor is worried about Blurr's insomnia. He forces an overload on him to help him sleep. Plot-less Perceptor/Blurr slash. Dubcon.

Wow, I haven't been on in... well FOREVER! This story was a last minute idea, that took hours to write. Funny how the ideas I think about for hours, I write for a minute then stop finding a flaw, or why it wouldn't happen and scrap it. This one just kinda fell out.

I hope to implant myself into the Transformers Slash communities. Maybe this one-shot will help me get my foot in the door. BTW, I'm looking for a beta. That's be cool and stuff. I'm not a writer by nature, I'm a drawer (Which I plan to make some slash pics).

Anyway, onto the obligatory crap. I don't own Transformers. This is slash, which means same gender sex. It is also Dub con, which is akin to rape. If you aren't into it, that's why this warning is here... ^^

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It had been orns. There was a nagging at the back of his processor that something wasn't right. He couldn't recharge. His central processes were running light years a minute contemplating his suspicions on Longarm Prime, his superior officer, and Head of Intelligence. There were times when he was not on duty that he could have sworn Longarm was up to something.

It was becoming a real pain in the aft. If he didn't get some recharge soon, he feared his mind would not be his own- feared others would observe his more primitive side, programs switching off rendering him nothing more than a pretty paper weight. He wouldn't be able to compute even the simplest of maths, let alone continue his intelligence gathering for the Autobot cause.

How much longer was this going to last? He had tried all kinds of software downloads that slow his internal computing speeds, forcing any 'normal' bot into recharge, or even sometimes go into stasis. Nothing. He would have gone to one of the medic bots if he wasn't so embarrassed about how an agent of his caliber couldn't handle something as simple as recharge. He had been doing that since he was a sparkling- a protoform even. Well, while he was up, the least he could do was make use of himself. Surely he could help some late night bot with some datapad work or something.

"Agent Blurr." An emotionless, robotic voice addressed him as he made his way down the hall. Upon being hailed, he straightened up, turned to face the voice and saluted the Autobot scientist, Perceptor.

"Yes, Perceptor. What may I help you with?" His voice came out a little slower than what he was used to.

"Please, follow me to my lab." His slender green arm extended in the direction he intended to travel. With out further prompting, Perceptor walked to his lab, knowing that Blurr would follow. He wasn't one to blatantly disobey. Also the echo of a second pair of peds in the hallway helped support his thesis that Blurr was indeed behind him. With a few clicks of some keys next to the door, the lab door opened, and Perceptor stepped aside to let Blurr in first. The blue agent gave a single head nod in politeness and continued into the clean laboratory.

The speedy spy had never been in the quiet, introverted scientists lab before. Beakers, and microscopes beckoned his attention from their respective places on the counter spaces. There wasn't much else to see. He assumed that Perceptor was so efficient, so clean, that he kept everything he wasn't using away in the cabinets or in a storage subspace. A berth was uncharacteristically arranged in the furthest back end of the room. Did Perceptor work such hours that he even slept in his own workspace? Someone needed a vacation.

Blurr became increasingly worried about what Perceptor would need with him. He didn't usually associate with the intellectuals of the headquarters. But, then again, Perceptor didn't really associate with anybot other than Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus. What could he possibly have to say to Blurr? And in his lab, no doubt.

"Sir? Permission to ask a question." Blurr used a polite yet uneasy smile.

Perceptor simply nodded and awaited his query.

"Is there something you need me for...?" He silently implied about the room.

"When is the last time you recharged, Agent Blurr?" Taken aback, Blurr stuttered for a bit before his true reply.

"Well, I couldn't actually say. Orns, I believe, yes. I'm sorry, but I'm not quite following, Sir."

"You are invaluable. If you wait any longer to recharge, your processors will shut down." The cold and impassive tone chilled Blurr, even though the words showed true concern.

"Trust me, Sir. If I could fall into recharge, I would have by now." Perceptor perked a bit at this and commenced his interrogation.

"Is there something troubling you, to make you resist rest?"

Blurr paused, immediately thinking of Longarm. He knew that any amount finger pointing at this moment would be counted as slander, as he had no evidence other than a feeling. He wasn't willing to risk his job over a hunch.

"Oh, um. Of course not Sir. Why would anything trouble me?" A short uneasy laugh escaped. The scientist wasn't convinced and simply gave a short 'hm' and was soon lost in thought. "Um, Sir?" Perceptor centered his gaze on Blurr again. "I'm honored that you are concerned, but I really am alright. Recharge will come to me eventually. If you don't mind, I would like to ask permission to leave, Sir." He saluted and reached towards the electronic door. It was very difficult to leave the room with Perceptor constantly in the way. Was he in the way on purpose?

"Negative. I will not allow you to leave just yet, Agent Blurr. I plan to help you with this matter." His voice barely fluctuating. Optics widening, Blurr tried one last time to make his escape. "Door: lock." 'click'.

Blurr could do nothing but stare indignantly, mouth slightly agape. "What? Sir, I don't understand." Were his lab entries voice commanded to lock? What was he planning to do?

"Please, Agent Blurr. I advise you do not make this difficult. Follow my directions, and get on the berth." On the berth?

"Sir, seriously. There is no need to go to these extremes. I can take care of-"

"Berth, Agent." Without even changing tone, those words still demanded obedience.

Blurr backed up to the berth, keeping his optics on Perceptor at all times. The logically formatted bot matched every step of his up to the berth and was nearly chassis to chassis with the blushing race car. Blurr had never been this close to the antisocial scientist. Green lips parted slightly as they approached cautious blue ones. The blush became fierce as he realised that Perceptor was closing in on him, forcing him back on to the berth. With the distraction successfully executed, Perceptor strapped one of Blurr's servos to the berth. It had straps? Perceptor is strapping him down?

"Perceptor!" He tried to wrench his hand free. "What is the meaning of-?"

"You would do well to lay on the berth, Agent." His servo made contact with the agent's chest and pushed back slightly. "I will not take 'no' for an answer." The touch sent Blurr into a frenzy. Half of what he said was lost to the scientist, mostly because it was a barrage of uneasy and abashed noises. He continued to put pressure on his chest to remind him of his order. "Do as I say, Agent Blurr. It's for your own good."

This seemed to give Blurr a little reassurance. Maybe he was just imagining that near kiss in his discharged state. Maybe he was blowing this way out of proportion. With uneasy glances around the room, blush fading a bit, he hopped up onto the berth and laid back. "Are the straps necessary?"

"The straps are to keep you from squirming away while I attempt to overload you into recharge." With the final strap secured, and that bomb shell released, Blurr's blush returned full force. Alright, maybe that attempted kiss wasn't dreamed up.

"Wait, what? Are my audio receptors stalling? You're gonna what me? Did you say overload? Surely there's another way!" Some of his old speed returning. At this, Perceptor gave the tiniest of smiles and ignored his protests.

"You should calm yourself. Relaxation is part of the process." His servo reached over to massage the chest they had once been pushing against. This quieted Blurr's protests instantly. He was too shocked by how forward his superior was being with him and wondered if this would get him court marshaled. "Before I can begin, you need to be aroused so that I may access your port and spike." He had never heard this bot ever use such derogatory terms.

"Hold on! You can't-!" Servo digits dove into crevices of his transformation seams, lightly tickling and pressing into sensitive wiring and sensory nodes. "Hck!" His protests subsided to simple sounds of detestation. Fighting off his arousal was becoming hard to do when his body started to respond of its own accord, arching up into the aggressor's hands, begging for more. Perceptor had a Mona Lisa smile as he made work on the lithe body. Was he enjoying this?

Perceptor had never played with a bot in this way before, but with his intellect, he had a good idea where was necessary to touch to stimulate arousal. Kibble for one was certainly for display, but also for recreational sex. Remembering this, eager to get Blurr ready, he grazed his servos lightly over the rapidly heating metal down to his ped tires. Blurr's optics brightened. Slender digits traced out tread and scratched at the rubbery surface, face plates remaining stoic as ever. He startled a little when Blurr's head smacked back onto the berth, no longer watching the stoic crimson transformer.

His optics were no longer open, and his lip was compressed under the pressure of his denta biting down on it. It wasn't long after, an air release could be heard in the room, and his codpiece was free.

Blurr awaited it to be removed immediately, and squinted away from his offender, too embarrassed to make eye contact. When this didn't happen, he glanced up and saw the scientist on the other side of the room making a fast note on a datapad. What was- was he conducting research even in the middle of all this? Blurr was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the pair of gloves the older bot was putting on, and the suddenly ominous tube.

"What's that for?" He was a bit breathless, and after all this, less worried about formalities.

"It is lubrication, a simple precaution. I don't want to hurt you, Agent." The detached title made it all the more awkward for Blurr. He was however relieved to hear in the end, Perceptor had no intention of harming him. But gloves? This was just all so embarrassing, invasive, and uncalled for. The resistless mech could do nothing as his assaulter approached him again, a bit of material on his fingers from the tube.

The clean servo went to release stirrups from the under side of the berth. Blurr could feel the world closing in on him. His peds were strapped into them and each teasingly caressed along his rubber appendages. He shut off his optics again, just feeling what was to happen.

A small servo massaged Blurr's inner thigh as the lubed finger rubbed at his entrance. Blurr flinched at the sudden pressure at his entrance. They dipped into his wet heat. His chassis tried to arch away and towards those digits at the same time. He had never been so conflicted.

They were removed and clicks could be heard. A sudden coldness washed over his spike and his optics shot online. He looked down to see the scientist lubing his spike. The once fresh glove wrapped around the head and slowly descended to the base as his other servo's digits wiggled back into the squeezing heat below.

"Ahh...!" Restraints were pulled at. He was surprisingly quiet except for the delicious noises he made, sending even the older bot into a new wave of enthusiasm. His hand pumped faster, squeezing and releasing at odd intervals. Blurr didn't last very long, his overload heralded by his chassis arching higher than before, and an undignified, "Hah...! mmm... mmm..." as each wave of pleasure washed over his being. Perceptor's servos continued to pump slowly, making the overload last as long as it could, until Blurr was reduced to uncontrollable twitches at each simple touch.

The blue race car found it harder and harder to keep from slipping into the black nothing. His being going limp and optics finally fading out. Perceptor threw away his now soiled gloves and adjusted his glasses. He was content to watch Blurr slowly drift off into recharge. Turning reluctantly back to his datapad, he made some notes. With a small jump, he plopped himself up onto a counter, favoring on leg over the other by crossing them. A monitor turned on of its own accord heralding Perceptor's attention.

"Ultra Magus." The Autobot leader gave a small pause, noticing the erotic scene of Blurr in the background, but seemed unfazed by it. Perceptor seemed as equally unfazed about hiding him, or what they could have been doing.

"Perceptor, do you have those notes ready for analysis for the meeting?"

"Affirmative," His simple reply.

"I see. I expect you there if half a breem. Ultra Magus: out." As the monitor fazed out, he gave another smile barely worth purchase. A few more notes, then he slid off the counter turning to his ward. He gave his tires another playful rub, making the agent moan slightly. A curtain was pulled and the elder mech strode to the door.

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Well... wasn't that stiff... and short... The last time I wrote anything was about 4 or 5 years ago... yeash... I'm not quite understanding when it's cool to use servo and hand... XDD I feel servo is the proper diction, but it is sooner an over used word in my stories. So I revert back to hand just to have some variety. :/ oh well...

Depending on reception, I could maybe figure out a plot for this to make it a series... In which case, I would probably have to change the title.. but most likely it will stay a one shot.

How do I find a beta who does Transformers slash? :( They would know what to do...