Hello hello~ Spankpig here, with my first ever TFA fic! The pairing is Longarm/Blurr because really, I swear they're practically canon (at least, I'd like to think so). Originally written for the TF Anon Kink Meme. This goes out to all the awesome fanartists on DevART that draw these two :3

WARNING: There is mech-on-mech action here! Plug 'n play and some spark-sex, with some roleplay and dirty(ish) talk thrown in for good measure (in the later chapters). This first chapter contains plug 'n play. If it's not your cup of tea, don't read it! Constructive criticism is always welcome, reviews and faves are highly appreciated and flames will be used to heat my house.

Disclaimer: If I owned TFA, I'd be the world's happiest nerd... but I don't, so I'm not. :C

"You trust me, don't you?"

He had accepted this mission from his master (unquestionably, of course) and knew what he was in for. This plan was not overtly difficult, but it needed to be time-consuming in order for it to be as efficient as possible. Trust needed to be earned, relationships needed to be established, and so on.

This was not the most difficult thing he had ever done in Megatron's service, but it was certainly lacking in excitement, to say the least. Patience, he kept reminding himself. Every nanoklik spent doing nothing was still a nanoklik for the Decepticon cause. Information-gathering was just as important as bolstering forces, he convinced himself. At least his disguise was flawless enough so that detection would not be a problem.

Still, there was no other way to put it – Shockwave was lonely.

And bored.

It was just so irritatingly dull, having to deal with that old fool Ultra Magnus, and that simpering imbecile Sentinel cycle after cycle. Being around them and their ridiculous idealism made him realise just how glad he was to be on the other side. Nauseating. Vorns passed in between messages to his master. Communication was far too risky otherwise. Shockwave was effectively devoid of any contact with intelligent conversation. Not one of the Autobots he was surrounded by was even any fun to play with. Wheeljack had his amusing moments, but since much of his time was spent tinkering about in his lab, those amusing moments were fewer and farther in between than one would normally have guessed. And Cliffjumper was just ... angry.

And then he met Blurr.

He'd been intrigued from the start. The racer had been placed under his command barely a decacycle after he had secured the position of Prime. Like all Autobots, this one was just brimming with naivety and almost indecent enthusiasm, but there was something different about him. That sleek, enticing build ... Shockwave had never seen its equal. He was obviously built for speed and not much else, but he certainly had a sort of... charm, for lack of a better word. If one was patient enough to sift through all of the excess chatter and get to the actual core of the conversation, Blurr was strangely fascinating. He took his job as an intelligence agent very seriously, and as his superior, 'Longarm Prime' was held in extremely high regard bordering on adoration.

It was almost too perfect. It was as though he was begging to be taken advantage of, and who was Shockwave to deny him?

Admittedly, it did come as a bit of a surprise when Blurr was the one to make the first move. He wasn't at all brazen as Shockwave had expected; instead, his awkward shyness belied his age. Something else that could have easily been exploited by another, but no matter. He was unwittingly playing right into Shockwave's claws, and that is precisely what he wanted.

Blurr had already proved himself malleable, and was now effectively offering himself to be moulded in the manner that Shockwave saw fit.

The first few times they had interfaced had been very gentle and slow, highly intimate sparkbonding. It was all very well and good, sure, but it wasn't interesting. Still, time was something that Shockwave had plenty of, and he planned to use every nanoklik of it to ensure that Blurr could not so much as boot up without craving his touch.

Like right now, for instance.

Even though he was trying his best, Blurr was still being a touch too loud for the Prime's taste. Those little whimpers, alluring as they were, would soon give them away if he didn't stop.

"Shhhh," Longarm reminded him. He nuzzled the agent's throat and said in barely a murmur, "You don't want anyone to hear, do you?"

Blurr shook his head frantically, both hands clamped over his mouth, although it was clear from his trembling that the effort involved was killing him.

"Much better," Longarm chuckled, his fingers ghosting along Blurr's sensitive side plating and making him squirm deliciously. The torment went on as the digits continued their invasive journey, hooking onto the joins between servos and plating before dipping under armour to stroke at important circuitry. The agent bit back a mewl of pleasure as Longarm revved his engine suddenly, the vibrations setting off every sensor within him. His internal fans kicked in as overheat warnings flashed insistently on his HUD. He was getting very close very quickly...

With every shiver, every little jerk and twitch Blurr kept grinding himself more and more onto Longarm's lap, making this little game of silence increasingly difficult to maintain. Longarm hid a smile. Tormenting the agent never got old. Forcing him to stay silent while at the same time trying to make him cry out was quite amusing. After all, Blurr would never dare disobey a direct order, however difficult he may have found it.

A noise from the outside suddenly shook him out of his thoughts. Footsteps... ones that stopped, coincidentally, right in front of the supply closet where they were hiding. Blurr made a tiny sound of alarm, earning his aft a warning squeeze from his superior. He tuned his audio sensors to hear who it was. Aah... Perceptor and Wheeljack. From what he could hear, they were discussing the latest upgrades to the Teletraan system. Knowing them, they could stand there discussing for megacycles, which could be either a very good or a very bad thing.

Longarm decided to make it a good thing.

He put a finger to his lip components as a reminder to his subordinate. Quickly he reached over to open Blurr's interface panels and plugged himself in, gasping as the connection established, buzzing through both their circuits. Blurr's optics widened at the unfamiliar sensation and his intakes spluttered, trying desperately to cool him down. He choked back a scream as a wave of pleasure hit him with the force of a steel wall.

"I was saying that maybe we should just – hey, did you hear something?" he heard Wheeljack say.

"Perhaps, now that you mention it," came the mechanical voice of Perceptor. "What was it?"

"Sounded kinda like... a voice, maybe?"

Horrified, Blurr quieted his cooling systems as best as he could, trying desperately to remain hidden now that the pair outside were on alert. What on Cybertron was Longarm thinking?! They'd be caught at this rate!

Any further thoughts of reprimand were banished as Longarm suddenly bit down on Blurr's lip hard enough to bring energon to the surface, connection surging hard enough to finally send Blurr headlong into painfully overdue overload. His mouth opened in a soundless wail of ecstasy as he rode it out, feeling the larger mech tensing up underneath him in an overload of his own.

"Huh. Must've been some static or something," Wheeljack said. It sounded very faint though, because Blurr was still silently trembling in agony, rigid with bliss, audio sensors filled with static, everything else filled with nothing but Longarm Prime.

"I see. Well, let us return to the laboratory," Perceptor said. The pair walked away, completely oblivious of the two mechs with heaving intakes only a few feet away from them.

-------------------------

And so ends the first chapter. Originally I had this posted as one big chunk, but I've separated them here for easier reading. :B