Re editied for your delectation and delight :) Thank you to all my reviewers, I'm glad you're enjoying it!
Faces of Need - Chapter Two - Ratchet and his Prime
Ratchet could smell her. Sweat and musk and the compounds responsible for stress response, but it didn't take a bloodhound's sense of smell to see that Mikaela was upset. Ratchet rolled his eyes. Only surreptitiously though. He didn't really want Mikaela to see it. The girl was chest deep in a broken down tank. Her arms greased up to the elbows, her face smeared with grime and streaked with clean tracks. Ratchet tightened a bolt deep within Bumblebee, whose silent eyes gazed up accusingly. Abruptly, the little bot's radio began tinkling out an old human prayer...when I needed a neighbour, were you there, were you there...and Ratchet smacked him hard enough to leave a sting. Bumblebee shut up.
I know, he thought. What exactly am I supposed to do about broken hearts? That's Prime's area.
Once he'd discharged Bumblebee, Ratchet sat heavily on his stool and began to tinker with a broken piece of bot arm, in the hope he might be able to retrieve the log saved in the data pack. Mikaela surfaced, swiping at her face and rested both her hands on the tank. Her shoulders hunched, she endeavoured to look like she was resting, catching her breath, annoyed with the engine...anything except what she was really doing. Crying. Again. Fucking hell.
Ratchet caught the tremble in her shoulders, the soft noises that reminded him awfully of other situations far more pleasurable. His steady eyes drifted to her long, brown legs. Those things looked like they'd feel smooth, he thought, and he entertained a brief fantasy that involved having them wrapped around his hips, gripping, hot while he...don't think about that now!
Mikaela stared into the tank's interior without seeing any of it. It wasn't like she hadn't guessed the breakup was coming, but nothing had prepared her for Sam actually saying the words. The tight knot of pain in her chest was a constant, all pervading darkness that she just couldn't shift, regret and guilt and fury and sadness...sadness because it had seemed so perfect. She could hear Ratchet tinkering behind her in uncharacteristic silence.
'You're quiet,' she managed to steady her voice and speak almost normally.
He nodded slowly.
'I was attempting to leave you to your not-so-silent grief,' he said evenly. 'I know you dislike weeping. I didn't think my interference would help.'
Mikaela grimaced. 'Thank you. Very sensitive of you.'
'Well, it's a matter of self preservation. If I had you crying on my shoulder, you might rust something.'
Mikaela stared at his deadpan expression for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. Ratchet chuckled.
'And if you cried on mine, you'd drown me!'
'I don't cry,' he said it teasingly.
'Yeah right. I've seen Bumblebee cry.'
'Bumblebee is Bumblebee.'
'You above all that namby pamby stuff, soldier boy?'
'I'm not a soldier. I'm a medic. I fell into soldiering.'
Mikaela laughed.
'Whatever,' she flipped a hand at him. Ratchet snorted.
'Got you smiling.'
Mikaela nodded and let out a slow, unsteady breath. She had other things on her mind.
'Do you think I'm an idiot, Ratchet?'
'I know if you don't stop rubbing your eyes, you'll get oil in them and then it'll be the eye bath for you.'
Ratchet's smirk made her feel a little better. There was something about the metal doctor. His bedside manner, his instinct for those in distress that reached past his grouchiness, past his ill humour, past the barriers he put up and betrayed a caring spirit. Somebody who genuinely enjoyed helping.
'You are not an idiot. Far from it. Experience has taught me not to pursue that which doesn't make me happy. To face my own feelings and accept them, even if the result is a few months or years of grief in return for a better quality of life and mind. You seem to have fallen into that philosophy. You're strong.'
Mikaela's smile was wan. 'I don't feel strong.'
''Course not. But give it a month or two, and you'll start to feel better.'
'A month? Or two?' she couldn't keep the horror out of her voice.
Ratchet gave her a nod, then did a double take at her expression. His eyebrow arched, as it was prone to do when he was suspicious.
'Is this your first sparkbreak?'
Mikaela fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable. Her throat tight, she elaborated a little defensively.
'I've felt bad after breakups, but I caused them! I've never been dumped...but then again, I'd never really been in love, so-' and that was it. Her voice broke along with her heart and she was crying, properly this time.
None of that weeping silently into a hanky while looking longingly in the direction of the beloved, these were racking sobs and heaves that sent her sinking onto the floor, trying to cover it up but failing completely. It only grew worse when Ratchet slid off his stool, settled a huge metal hand over her back and gave her a full-body squeeze.
'Get rid of it,' he said gently. 'Trust me, girly. Cry it out.'
'No, I look fucking stupid-' she hissed.
Gods alive, Ratchet thought, as she sat trembling in a little ball around her grief. The sight and sound of it would activate the protective circuits of any bot. In that second, there was nothing that could have moved Ratchet away from her.
'No you don't,' he rumbled. Mikaela felt the vibration right into her bones and it made her want to squirm, but before she could examine that thought she shoved it down, because now was not a good time to realise Ratchet's voice was making her wet.
'Not stupid,' he went on, 'Stupid would be holding it all in.'
Mikaela wanted to ask how the hell he came to have such a supportive attitude for a twenty five tonne robotic organism, but the sobs overcame her. Chest aching, frame shaking, her brain firing up memories of Sam, she laid her head on her knees and obeyed the impulse because deep down, she knew Ratchet was right. She'd die of embarrassment later, when she didn't feel like she was going to die of pain.
Words burst out. Little confessions of persisting affection for Sam, and Ratchet absorbed them like a sponge. She wailed about how much she missed him. Ratchet said nothing, and a metal finger rubbed up and down her back steadily. Never slowing, never breaking contact, not even when she leaned over and leant her aching head on his leg. His metal hide was room temperature and surprisingly silky.
If Ratchet noticed her little fingers touching his armour, investigating little nicks and battle scars, he didn't say anything. Neither did he call her irrational when she said she'd never love anyone again. He didn't feed her insecurity when she said she was ugly. He just sat, as solid as a mountain and when at last, she finally started to calm down, he extended his magnetic field like a blanket.
He watched her skin goose pimple as it settled with a calming effect that he hadn't instigated earlier because he knew the healing power of the act of crying. Sure enough, Mikaela loosed her grip on his knee a little bit, and her shoulders relaxed.
Ratchet's glowing eyes absorbed the line of her bare midriff, the sink of spinal groove into the band of mini skirt, and the unexpected strength in her arms. Not for the first time he looked at a human and mused on how delicate they were. How easy it would be to hurt them. The thought put pay to the ideas forming treacherously in his mind. He could feel the heat from her body warming his leg. He wondered if she knew how pleasing she looked to the eye, and if she did it deliberately.
'How'd you become...such a good counsellor?' she said, her voice broken.
'Years of practise,' he said. She could hear his smile.
'I'm sorry, Ratchet.'
'No, don't be. I'm not just a nuts and bolt man, y'know. When soldiers come in from battle, half their damage is spark level. Prime is the expert when it comes to spiritual healing, but I have my ways too, of sealing up emotional wounds.'
'I never though of Optimus as spiritual-' she said softly.
'Then you don't know him at all,' Ratchet brushed her hair aside with surprising dexterity for a being so big, then rubbed her shoulders gently. 'Humans assume we're just fighting machines. That there's no passion or faith or love. Like they have a monopoly on joy.'
'I know that's not true,' she said. 'But...Optimus isn't exactly the sort of bot who invites digging into his personal affairs.'
'Digging no...honest curiosity..yes. Ask him next time you...you know,' he winked.
Mikaela shrugged.
'I don't know. I think one is a good number. Not too little, not too much. Mind you, I doubt anyone could ever get enough of that feeling-'
She was thinking of cables, and Ratchet must have followed her train of thought because he snorted. Mikaela smiled and rested her head on his leg. Ratchet broke the silence.
'You don't fool me, girly,' he said gently, his optics glowing. 'You and I both know the truth. You'll not last three weeks before you're all over him again like a rash. Especially when the rota changes this week, and he'll be around a lot more.'
Something crunched in anticipatory glee inside Mikaela before she shoved it down.
'I can resist you know,' she said. 'I'm only 99% whore.'
'Whore?' Ratchet shook his head. 'You humans and your sexual shame. There's nothing wrong with pleasure, Mikaela.'
'There could be if you start falling for a twenty tonne robotic-' she cut short abruptly and stared at the floor.
'Ah,' Ratchet nodded. He vented a soft, hot breeze from his grilles. Mikaela was reminded of how often she'd spoken with him like this. The idea that the grumpy old doctor bot knew the ins and outs of her troubled mind should have been enough to give her nightmares, but oddly, she found it quite comforting now. She ran a finger down a deep nick in his plating, unaware that she was less than an inch away from a nerve bunch. Ratchet let her, the touch tingling in his circuits.
'Optimus is addictive,' he said finally.
'And you know all about it,' Mikaela smirked.
'Yeah. I do.'
'You know, of all the bots on this base, I never thought I'd end up having these conversations with you.'
'Ha!' Ratchet smirked. 'You think I'm all groan and grump. More fool you.'
'You are all groan and grump,' Mikaela wrapped her arms impulsively around his knee and gave him a hug. 'But you're more too. Thanks, Ratchet.'
'You're wel-' he cut off suddenly. His optics flickered. The hand that had stroked her back stilled, the memory of warmth retained in its nano-bot sensors. She was sorry to lose it.
'What's wrong?' she asked, instinctively, when his face betrayed a hint of worry. She knew that look – he was receiving a wifi transmission. She gave his knee a little pressure to get him to focus. 'Ratchet?'
'It seems the patrol found the decepticon. Optimus tangled with him and came off worse. Dammit. We need to get the bay ready.'
000
By the time they arrived, Mikaela had cleaned up enough to disguise most of her little breakdown. Nothing could quite prepare her for the sight of the autobot leader being more or less dragged by Ironhide, his side haemorrhaging fluids at an alarming rate and his right leg hanging loose at the hip.
She forgot her puffy eyes and achy head when he groaned in pain. Ironhide lowered Prime onto the long, metal table used for procedures and the bot leader clutched the open plate at his side. The fluid dripped heavily onto the concrete floor, flowing into a puddle.
'What happened?' Ratchet asked, as his hands began moving silently, pressing here, testing there until Prime made a noise of discomfort. Ironhide filled him in.
'Decepticon jackass jumped us. EMP pulse took out the electrics, and he managed that with a sabre. And that, with his hands.'
Optimus let out a long, hot vent from the grilles in his ribs, warming Mikaela's legs. Prime turned his face to Ironhide.
'Get out of here, Ironhide. The others need you.'
'Not until you're stable-'
'Ironhide,' Prime's voice carried a hint of command that even Ironhide had to fight not to instantly obey. 'I'll be fine. Please, old friend, or there'll be three more bots in here later.'
The silence was heavy, the drip, drip of robotic blood was too loud. Ratchet's finger became a welding torch, blinding heat scorching Mikaela's eyes. Ironhide seemed to be warring between one instinct and other.
'You do as he tells you Prime,' Ironhide warned, pointing to Ratchet. 'I mean it.'
'Yes sir,' Prime's voice was full of sarcasm, but it was a good kind. Ironhide was rolling before he'd completely transformed.
'Easy, Optimus,' Ratchet pried Prime's fingers loose. 'Come on, ease off...that's it-'
Prime made a noise like pain. Mikaela's insides crunched. Oh God it just got worse...gushing and flowing and...Oh, she felt sick. The sight of the blue and red hero bleeding out rooted her to the spot. His massive fame was strung with tension. It took effort to bare the wound, to let the medibot work. What if Ratchet couldn't stop it, what if-
'Mikaela. Mikaela! Your smaller hands can help.'
She snapped to. Ratchet's eyes met hers. She did a double take. Fear guttered in their depths. She realised it mirrored her own, and that, moreover, unless they both kept their cool, fear was going to become reality. It hit her – if she panicked, Ratchet just might too.
'I'm fine,' she lied, 'tell me what to do.'
'Up,' he gestured.
Mikaela climbed the wooden steps beside the berth placed in the event that she needed to access the casualty. Ratchet's hands were covered in fluid to the elbows. It was dark brown and shimmering - Mikaela swallowed hard. Optimus' blood.
'Mikaela,' Ratchet nodded towards a panel. 'Grab those pincers, then flip the emergency on that panel. You'll need both hands.'
Mikaela reacted instinctively, moving before her brain had time to realise she was messing about inside Optimus Prime. She flipped the hatch and found a thick, warm pipe, deliberately avoiding Prime's eyes. She knew there'd be no fear there - but she didn't want to take the chance.
'Close the pipeline,' he said. 'Squeeze it tight.' She sealed the ends over the pipe and squeezed.
'Harder,' Ratchet warned, and when she reacted, he gave a nod. 'Good. Hold it, I need to replace the pipeline here or I can't stop the leak.'
'You welded it shut-'
'Temporary fix. It could open again at any time.'
Mikaela held on tight, even as the stress began to ache across her chest and shoulders.
'How much longer?' she asked breathlessly. Ratchet reached behind him and fiddled on the shelf. Items dropped off and hit the floor, then he dragged a long metal strip loose and handed held it out.
'Bind it with this.'
She grabbed it before her grip could give out and wrapped it tight around the handles. It warmed abruptly, then shrank and sealed the pincers closed.
'Good,' Ratchet nodded towards the warehouse. 'Now fetch me item number 213, on the double, girly.'
Mikaela skidded into the warehouse, riffling though shelves and boxes. She emptied bays, digging to her hips until she found a metal pipe sealed in a plastic baggie. She ran back, jumping the steps. The bleeding had slowed.
'That's better,' Ratchet murmured, glancing down to Mikaela. 'Open the bag and pass me the pipe.'
For a few long minutes, he worked in silence. The only sounds were the hiss of cooling fans from above, and the movements of feet on concrete. Mikaela could hear her own heart. Prime's blue optics met hers. Then at last, Ratchet pulled back and killed the torch. He gave a nod.
'Right. Now keep still while I fix the rest of you,' the relief in his voice was obvious.
Mikaela scraped hair off her face.
'Optimus?'
'He'll live,' Ratchet said, as he dug between cables and synthetic muscles.
Prime's glowing eyes fell on her, and her heart gave a flutter. Gazing into his metal face, she felt oddly self conscious. Now she thought about it...he was really very handsome. Struck with a sudden memory of being warm, of feeling safe in his arms, she found she wanted nothing more than to crawl into them now.
'Are you alright-' both spoke together. Mikaela laughed.
'I'm fine,' she nodded.
'As am I. I was worried I'd hurt you-'
'No, not at all, Optimus. I just...needed time,' she said, aware that Ratchet was listening, though, weirdly, it didn't bother her as much as it should have. When Optimus flinched under Ratchet's tender ministrations, Mikaela put a hand on his shoulder. Prime studied her closely.
'You're leaking,' he said.
'Yeah,' she shrugged, wondering how she could explain. Less than a year ago, they'd all been staring at the grey body of their fallen hero. Before she had time to come to terms with that awful feeling, he was back and there was no time for grief. She'd never dealt with it. Seeing him injured had bought it all back, all the fear, all the anguish. She swiped at her cheeks.
'You scared me,' she settled for that. 'I thought you were going to die-'
'Mikaela-' Prime lifted a massive hand and touched her face with a fingertip. Mikaela covered it with her own hand, realising that she'd craved contact with him more than she cared to admit.
'Quit moving!' Ratchet snarked.
'Sorry, doc,' Prime put his hand down. He smiled. 'She tempted me.'
'Did she,' there was a hint of something new in Ratchet's voice, and Mikaela felt a shiver go down her spine. She pushed it down. Now was not the time to go all metal whore.
'Keep your distance now, Mikaela,' Ratchet warned. 'I've got to go in deep. If he moves suddenly you could get hurt.'
She moved back about three inches. Prime's blue optics shone gently on his metal face, seemingly blasting a code called temptation that she was having trouble ignoring. Her instincts were screaming at her to get closer, and she couldn't explain it. Neither did she want to delve too deeply into this funny, warm feeling in her heart, or this sense of wanting to protect Prime-
'I didn't know you could feel pain,' she distracted herself.
'We can feel pleasure,' Ratchet said dryly, causing Mikaela to blush lightly. 'It follows that we can feel pain.'
'You can feel this?' she put a hand on Prime's cheek.
'Of course. Distant, pleasant pressure-' his voice carried a strange tightness.
'Now is not the time for an experiment into autobot/human relations.'
'What?' Mikaela realised what he meant. 'Ratchet...that's not where I was going-'
Ratchet's grin said he knew very well what was going on in her head. He was going to rib her anyway. Prime's frame gave a little shudder. Ratchet's hands were deep inside him, tweaking and twisting off cables. Prime's eyes drifted shut.
Mikaela felt something begin to brew. Some deep understanding. If Prime could feel her touch on his armour, he could surely feel Ratchet inside him. The medic must have gone in deep, because Prime moaned, actually moaned, it didn't sound like it was all pain. It reminded her of the way he moaned when he was inside her. She eyed Ratchet suspiciously. The medic winced as he pulled something closed and apparently closed it on his finger.
'Hmm-' the noise came from Optimus, who clenched a fist.
'Back,' Ratchet said firmly, and she didn't argue, stepping down as Ratchet put a hand on Prime's belly, held the plating there and tugged something deep inside. Prime's little breath out was unsteady, full of something else, something infinitely better than pain.
Ratchet drew his hand out, and engaged the welder. Mikaela could see the tension in Prime's frame. He was arching slightly into Ratchet's hands. Her gaze shot between Ratchet and Prime and back.
'What are you, some kind of masochist?' she asked suddenly.
Ratchet and Prime shared a look. Mikaela felt a grin begin to grow.
'You're enjoying this!'
Prime said nothing. Ratchet shrugged.
'Pain into pleasure. Touch is touch,' said Ratchet evenly.
'And you just so happen to be touching my-' Prime didn't get a chance to finish. He shuddered as Ratchet cruelly extended cables to brush the living protoform beneath the armour.
'Jesus,' Mikaela found herself smiling. If Prime could think about shagging, he wasn't hurt that badly. 'And there was me thinking you were the walking wounded, suffering and all that-'
'Would you like me to act?' Prime said. He breathed '-that feels good, Ratchet.'
Mikaela snorted. 'I can't believe this!'
Ratchet caught her eye with a smirk that made her heart rate accelerate markedly. The bot's sharp eyes picked out a sudden dilation of her pupils and a burning hope ignited in his gut. So Prime had been telling the truth about the human, and it looked like leaderbot wasn't the only thing on her sexual menu. The physics of it still defied possibility, he thought, but desire overrode logic fast, especially when he saw how quick Mikaela's breathing had become. If she's willing, I can find a way, he thought, delightedly.
'If a doctor was wrist deep in my belly, the last thing I'd be thinking about is sex-' she could hear the tension in her own voice.
'Your abdomen doesn't contain a sensitive nerve juncture that if stimulated in exactly the right way-' Ratchet looked like he was concentrating, reaching a long cable under Prime's armour. The autobot leader shivered suddenly, his optics flickering. He let out a low, dangerous moan and Ratchet smirked. 'See?'
Mikaela shook her head slowly.
'You guys really don't care, do you? You're letting me watch you get horny, and you don't care-'
'That's not completely true,' Ratchet said evenly, wishing that he didn't have his hands inside Prime. At the same time, he was grateful for the excuse to occupy his hands, because the girl's thinly veiled excitement at the sight of them was making him want her, and he didn't completely trust himself with such a delicate organism. Not yet, anyway.
'It's not that we don't care. Hell no.'
Mikaela stared into his face as his voice dropped, sending a quiver up her insides and making her look at Ratchet in a whole new light.
'We're enjoying it. If that gives you the shivers, lil' lady, I'd use the door, cause it's only gonna get more intense from here on in,' his wink was downright lascivious.
Something coiled tight and hot inside Mikaela.
'Optimus?' Ratchet teased, running a hand up the autobots belly to slide cables teasingly under his metal skin. Prime arched into it. 'Any objection?'
'None whatsoever,' he purred. 'Ratchet-touch me-'
'Patience,' the medic said softly. 'Your leg is still hanging off.'
'Ratchet,' Optimus growled, sounding like he didn't care that much.
Ratchet put a hand on Prime's chest, she couldn't help but notice it avoided the exact location of his spark chamber carefully.
'Lie down. You're not well enough to stick anything in anyone. Yet.'
'Don't tempt me Ratchet.'
Mikaela felt her breathing draw shorter, between her legs suddenly a bit too hot. I should move, she thought. Ratchet's eyes, good natured though somewhat wry travelled up to the Prime's face. Prime said something soft in his own language. Mikaela didn't need a translator to understand that it was enjoyment.
'You know, slippery as my mind normally is, I just can't imagine how you guys can stick anything in each other...'
'Act as shocked as you like, girly. I can smell the truth, remember? You are more than intrigued, a good deal more.'
Mikaela felt a blush rise, even moreso when Ratchet's gentle teasing gave way to Optimus' searching gaze. She knew it was written all over her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes would have gone dark.
'Would you like to find out?' Ratchet continued.
'Yeah-' Mikaela answered easily, because weird though this was, she really didn't want to miss it.
'I told you so,' Ratchet smirked to Prime, whose face arranged itself into a gentle smile, even as he arched into Ratchet's expert touch. 'This could get dangerous for you, Mikaela. You'll have to keep your distance for now.'
'I think I can deal with that,' she said softly.
Ratchet smirked, his glowing eyes sliding over to her face. 'Good,' he rumbled.
'Ohh-' Prime's voice rippled over her, making her ache inside. His hand drifted up to grip Ratchet's slender hips. The medic stalled, his optics flickering as Prime's fingers went deep into the joints between plates, and she heard the tiny hiss of cables extruding.
'Prime-' Ratchet warned him. 'I'm not done with you, yet.'
Her pussy quivered, apparently not marking a difference between memory and reality. The sound of cables bought back sensations...the warmth of the hologram, the way Optimus looked at her, full of gentle passion and need. His smell, the caring embrace afterwards.
'Good,' Prime shuddered. 'Primus, Ratch, don't stop-'
He slid a hand up the medic's side until Ratchet moved away, if only to gain enough brain space to concentrate.
Mikaela gazed into Prime's face. His expression was every bit as gentle as it was needy. She was caught on the raw desire there, on how freely he showed it. Her breath stopped coming, her pussy gave a little squeeze of delight.
I can't believe I'm thinking this, she thought. I can't believe I'm here...She had to wonder, if they did start bonking like rabbits, did she plan to walk away and leave them to it, or stay and watch like some weird, metal whore?
Prime said something again in that low register. It made her quiver. It was laced with insatiable need and completely open and Ratchet's eyes softened, but he kept working quietly, diligently, knowing that it would infuriate Prime.
'They have just disabled the decepticon,' Ratchet informed Prime, knowing that his wireless might miss the signal in this state.
'Good,' he breathed, as Ratchet snapped something shut and said, 'leg.'
Prime groaned, one hand gripping the table as Ratchet bent his hanging leg to the correct position, then went in with the torch. Now and then, his surgeon's hands would caress a length of piping, pinch a nerve ganglion, slide cables into Prime's groin. Never close enough to his sheathed spike to stimulate, but close enough to promise it. Every time Prime whimpered, he repeated the action, knowing his leader could do nothing until he was in one piece.
Optimus said something in strangled Cybertronian, some needy command which Ratchet completely ignored.
'We're done,' Ratchet snapped a hatch closed. His eyes glowed with devious intent. 'With the repairs, anyway.'
Ratchet didn't have time to move before Prime was upright, the medics wrists in his hands. The building gave a tremble as Prime pinned him against the wall, Ratchet's legs around his waist. Prime pressing their bodies tight and leaned in slowly, lips teasing, promising - Mikaela's breath came short when Prime ground his hips into Ratchet.
'You are a tease-' Prime rumbled.
'Lies and slander!' Ratchet smirked. He was cut off when Prime dipped his head and took the medic's metal mouth in a bruising kiss. Ratchet's unguarded moan set Mikaela on fire. Prime transferred Ratchet's hands into one of his. He pinned Ratchet's wrists against the wall and stroked the length of his metal body, eyes burning. Mikaela whimpered softly, feeling her pussy tighten when Ratchet smirked, looking right into Prime's face, blatant, fearless and unapologetic. It was beyond sexy.
No way. They were actually gonna fuck...not happening.
'Mikaela,' Ratchet said softly, 'if you plan to watch this, I suggest you put a bit more distance between us for your own safety.'
Prime crushed him against the wall, hard enough to make the medic roll his head back but not, apparently hard enough to hurt him because Ratchet moaned and wriggled his hands.
'I should tease you,' Prime rumbled threateningly, dipping his head to tease Ratchet's mouth. The medic moaned needily. 'Make you moan, make you beg for me-'
'Oh yes,' he sighed, sounding like he'd like nothing more. 'Optimus...you feel so good-'
Prime mouthed a line up Ratchet's throat.
'Let me touch you-' Ratchet wriggled promisingly.
Prime loosed his hands.. He rumbled soft delight when Ratchet snaked up his armour plated back, sliding fingers between the plates, into joints, hissing as those weird, prehensile cables began to free themselves. Electricity arched between their bodies, little discharges of power that made them both shiver and moan, and prompted Prime to slide cables into Ratchet's throat, tickling the sensitive, living metal.
Ratchet could sense Mikaela's gaze. Even a mech could feel eyes on him, and he could smell the boiling pheromones that betrayed arousal. It was driving him crazy with need. Even though her eyes were unsure, he knew her libido was in heaven. His little smirk was caught between Prime's lip plates. With soft determination, Ratchet decided that if she was going to watch, he was going to give her a show she'd never forget.
Prime's sensor cables wriggled loose, slipping and sliding over Ratchet, finding the sensors that were most awake. When he found a bunch, he stroked and touched and sent little fizzes of energon until Ratchet made delighted whimpers. Prime's cables left sizzling trails on his body, pushing between plates to massage the impossibly sensitive protoform beneath.
Ratchet moaned, moving his hands to the larger bot's shoulders, teasing the plating, then slipping his own sensors free to dive beneath, gently at first because he knew Prime was in that mood. The desperate, must have it now, mood that made him so easy to tease. Ratchet squeezed his hydraulics, teased the living fabrics that made his muscles, never going quite deep enough. Optimus wriggled, trying to get them deeper but Ratchet hissed a soft reproach in Cybertronian.
Optimus nuzzled the medic's throat, nipping, then tugging gently on struts until Ratchet shivered and moaned his name, and Prime joined their metal lips. A bolt of heat shot through Mikaela, who kneeling on the floor, still wasn't sure whether to stay or leave.
It was weird. It was...metal. It was completely alien. But every time Ratchet made a noise of helpless delight, every time Prime shivered, every time their eyes flickered, she just got wetter. I'm a metal whore, she thought. What if someone walks in. Oh God...look at Prime's face!
Prime moaned as Ratchet bit his jaw. Memories fired. Mikaela's skin sensitized. She twitched in sympathy, recalling how those soft, perfect tips had glided over her flesh, mixing the mechanical with the holographically real flesh that she had replayed every night, every single night since.
The scratch of metal fingers down the autobot leader's broad back whined like a tortured blackboard but made Optimus groan. The air above them shimmered. She fancied she could hear fans whirring as their cores worked to cool them. They arched together, each one seeking to get closer, closer, and both enjoying the act of teasing far too much.
'Please-' Prime broke first.
Fuck. Mikaela's insides heated up by about ten degrees. She checked the doors. Not a soul. God, this wasn't happening. But it was. The smell of warm metal, of lubricants and oil. The buzzing of the energy that came off them, ringing dully in her ears, making her shake, making her wet, making her want...what? She couldn't. What if someone walked in? What if-
'Please, what, Optimus?' Ratchet's grin was feral, delighted.
Mikaela had never imaged he could look that way, all glowing eyes and evil delight.
'Off,' Prime purred.
'But...what if someone walks in?'
Mikaela might have laughed it it wasn't so fucking hot...the mighty autobot leader so desperate, so horny, and Ratchet, half his size calling the shots.
'I need you,' it was rumbled softly, and for a second Mikaela thought Ratchet might tease him. Then something in the air electrified, making her feel sick to her stomach.
There was a thud, followed promptly by another and another, and the ground shook. Mikaela fell backwards as the armour hit the floor, disengaging from its hosts easily. It left the bare original forms, grey black and shimmering. Mikaela stared. Their tapered limbs and curved surfaces, complex mechanisms were as interesting mechanically as sexually. She wanted to touch. The metal had a sheen, a glow that made her think it was alive. The cables rectracted. Seemingly there was no need for them now, because thier armourless hands, so much finer than before were directly on bare circuits, and they were moaning, grinding together...
There was no way Ratchet couldn't have pushed Prime away, but somehow the autobot leader was moving backwards under some force, only to hit the table with his backside. Mikaela twitched as Ratchet climbed onto his lap, eyes shining, evil and sexy and completely shameless. Prime gripped his skull as Ratchet mouthed his way down his leader's chest, over the spark chamber, down his belly, going..where? Where do you go on a robot? Mikaela drank in the sight.
'Ratchet-' Prime gasped, gripping him so hard it had to hurt. He lapsed into rasping Cybertronian and Ratchet's eyes glimmered like jewels. His gaze swung to Mikaela, who still kneeling on the floor had long since given up hope of resistance and was stroking the soaking, swollen nub of her clit.
'I wish I could translate that for you,' he sighed despondently to her.
'Ratchet!' Prime growled. With Prime on his back, the medibot adjusted his position better so that Mikaela would see every moment. Something extruded out of Prime, pressurised and slick, glistening between their bodies.
Prime said something, but the fight was gone out of it. She twitched when Prime flipped Ratchet. Her pussy clenched, squeezing, eager. She stroked it with her fingertips, knowing only too well that a wrong move now would send her over the edge and she wanted to wait, wanted to come when they did- God, she felt like some twisted metal voyeur.
The thrill of it sizzled in her veins, made her heart thump and her nipples peak. She wanted this. God help her. She wanted to watch every second. Her skin had begun to tingle. The odd feeling coming over her got stronger when a plate moved with a soft hiss. Mikaela stared, her pussy clenching, dangerously close to coming on the spot. There aren't enough words in English to describe how unbelievable hot this is, she thought, as Ratchet wrapped his hand around Prime's thick metal cock, as far from a phallus as you could possibly get but possessing roughly the same receptors, she suspected, because Prime moaned, pushing into Ratchet's grip.
I can't take much more, she thought. She heard the sounds she was making as though filtered through thick cloth. Her blood was pounding, mind fizzing almost blank. Yet she was hanging on...somehow she was hanging on. Nothing mattered except this tableau of metal love.
Ratchet's slim fingers brushed Prime's throat, seeking something, she thought, seeking entry as they drifted over his chest, and there, as Prime's body parted...a shimmering white glow that lit them both. And then, doubled, blue from below, pure white from above, the light ripped on their bodies, and little tendrils began to break loose of their cages, reaching, questing, blasting sensation when they met.
Ratchet's head went back when the first little spark tendrils touched Prime's. Every time felt like the first, intense and bright and wonderful and it left Ratchet helpless, shaking, begging in Cybertronian because no matter how he teased, or how long they resisted, all would eventually come to this - this impending joining, this coming explosion. Nobody could resist Prime, not spark to spark, nobody ever wanted to.
Ratchet could hear the girl moaning, he could smell her scent, the musky delicious evidence of arousal. It sent him higher, his insides twisting and writhing like snakes as the coils of living, liquid metal that made his valve tighten, gripping, desperate, soaking, ready-
'Optimus-' he breathed, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone with Prime in this connection. For a moment it unsettled him before he looked inward, deeper, deeper, through the haze of pleasure to feel softness...wetness...human. Prime groaned as Ratchet stroked his cock, his hands denting the table on which they lay.
Ratchet could smell her, so strong she could have been sitting on his face. Her skin, her perfume, her blood, her body. His fingers twitched. Then he saw it. The ring of darkness around Prime's optics. The channel. Unlikely...impossible, but there it was...and God, he could feel the girl, the heat between her legs, the thump of her heart, racing, the eager, delighted frame of her mind, so much pleasure, addictive, organic...Primus, Ratchet wanted her, wanted both of them, together.
Prime's strangled whimper made him twitch helplessly and Mikaela moved too. Something was fizzing deep inside her, something she'd never felt before. Calm certainty, she wasn't alone, she was no longer singular. A line of electric delight was arching from her soaking fingertips, joining her throbbing clit, shooting up, heading for...for what?
Her body trembled and the feeling grew as the autobots delayed the connection, just long enough for Prime to reposition himself and drive that thick, steel dick deep into the medic's clenching, soaking valve. Ratchet threw his head back and cried out as that first, delicious entry reminded him just how powerful Optimus really was.
Mikaela twitched, skin flushed and eyes dark, a part of her brain buzzing, literally, taking her thoughts away. She fought it only for a second, wondering what the hell was happening, before the sight of Prime fucking Ratchet stole all other coherence.
The noises they made...like six Ravages in a tin cube, all howling in simultaneous ecstasy, and then the glowing lights in their chests, eager to join, blasted outwards with a final, undeniable command. Now. They obeyed, bringing their bodies together in simultaneous surrender, wound tight, one within the other like the snake that swallowed its own tail...the shimmering centers of their sentience entwined until-
Mikaela came hard, all thoughts ceasing abruptly as she shot upwards, thwacking her addled head on the doors of heaven in a consummation of roaring white and electric buzz that was almost painful, almost too much. But so sweet, so completely fulfilling, making her whole, filling the gap in her broken heart. She came floating back down, still buzzing and fizzing like an overexcited bath bomb, and sinking, finally onto cool Earth exhausted and sated. Her mind was empty, blank and clear and distantly, he could hear voices speaking in a strange language.
If she heard the autobots move, she didn't remember it. But something..some things...wrapped around her very gently. Long, and thin, they drew her in while she fought to regain decent awareness, only to be laid on warmth, covered with warmth. She fell asleep, instantly.
000
Deep and dark and completely relaxed - Mikaela woke some time later, feeling like she'd had a reboot to look down into Ratchet's amusement. She scrubbed at her face, pulling hair out of her eyes. A glance left revealed Prime in all his lithe and naked glory, laying with his optics dim, apparently offline. Ratchet was smirking at her.
'It's not funny-' she said, defensively.
A metal hand touched her back with quiet comfort. It wasn't warm precisely, but neither was it cold.
'So sensitive,' he rumbled. 'I was amused by your face, not your actions.'
'Oh,' Mikaela realised that the armour was still gone. She was lying on plate metal that was deliciously warm, her knees in thick cabling, aching a little and completely relaxed. She stretched. Ratchet held back a moan of delight - she felt so good.
Direct on his circuits, her clothes felt almost rough compared to her skin, so warm and soft...he suddenly wished she was naked and despite himself he entertained several filthy fantasies. All of them ended with some part of him deliciously inserted. The thought made him ache. It was no good, he realised. He wanted this pretty little organic.
'Jesus,' Mikaela sighed, putting her chin on her hand. 'That was amazing...should I be feeling uncomfortable?'
Ratchet gave a little, one shouldered shrug. He looked smaller, more...vulnerable without his disguise. More basic. Oddly, more Ratchet.
'No. Not unless you want to.'
'But I just watched you two do it...and I got off on it!'
'So?' Ratchet said softly, turning his head to look at Prime. Mikaela did too.
'He looks so peaceful-'
'Yes. It's about time he recharged anyway.'
'Ratchet...doesn't this feel weird to you?' she asked, feeling she had to get this situation straight now. Right now. Nothing seemed clear any more. 'I'm human...you're robots.'
'Sexual enjoyment is common to all sentient species,' Ratchet said. 'However they achieve the act, they all do it.'
'We have a word for this,' she muttered. 'And I'm the animal-'
Ratchet chuckled. 'Nonsense.'
'Do you always do that with the armour, when you-'
'Not always. There are many ways. It was Prime's idea.'
'Does it feel better that way?'
'You have no idea how much,' Ratchet said, cupping her in his hand as he sat slowly. Leaving Prime to snooze, he set Mikaela down on the table and hopped down.
Mikaela felt her heart jump into her throat as Ratchet emitted some odd, deep sound and the armour on the floor twitched. She ducked as it energized, and leapt onto his frame with a series of clings, bumps and bangs. When he turned around, he looked like himself.
'Optimus,' he shook the autobot leader gently by the shoulder, and smiled in silent communication as Prime sat up, and activated the same odd field that made Mikaela wonder if she was going to be sick or have a migraine - and which first?
Optimus turned when his body was back in one piece and offered Mikaela a hand. He bought her up to eye level. There was a quiver of concern in there. Mikaela smiled. Yes, she thought, he really is gorgeous. Sexy and confident and gentle and kind and everything I ever wanted and I can't afford to fall for him so stop it, stop it, stop it!
'You sleep like a baby,' she said.
'Are you alright?' his deep rumble made her bones go all wiggly. She nodded.
'I think so. Confused I guess. I just watched two robots do the worm.'
Prime's face plates formed a smirk.
'That's a good phrase.'
'Yeah. Optimus? You don't feel weirded out, do you?'
'No. Not even slightly. You feel wonderful, Mikaela. Especially when you're writhing and whimpering in ecstasy,' his voice had dropped, making her shudder.
'OK,' she said. 'I need a shower like never before.'
He set her down and watched her gather her bag and cardigan and walk off.
'Mikaela,' he called, as she went for the door. She turned. 'You know where to find me if you need to talk about anything.'
She nodded and slipped outside. Once she was gone, Prime turned to Ratchet and gave his ass a squeeze. Ratchet smirked.
'That went well,' the medic observed. 'Though she seems a bit unsettled.'
'Yes. I'd be unsettled if I'd just passed out mid orgasm over a couple of Quintessons,' his dirty smile faded into concern.
'Only unsettled?' Ratchet looked disturbed.
'Do you think she'll absorb it well? I mean, have we hurt her?' Prime asked.
'She could have walked away,' Ratchet said, seriously. 'She chose to stay.'
'Yes,' Prime nodded. 'But I'll keep a close eye on her.'
'I'm sure she'll be fine,' Ratchet said. 'And you? Do you feel alright, Prime? Post procedure I mean?'
'Oh, yes,' he nodded, optics spacing out, considering Mikaela. He snapped to. 'Yes. Fine.'
'What if she wants a repeat performance, Optimus?'
Prime seemed to consider it.
'We'll jump that particular creek when we come to it, eh?'
Ratchet nodded, sitting before his unsteady legs could give up on him. He watched Prime leave. He indulged a secret and rather dirty smile as his mind carefully filed every scent, every feeling, every image for later. He had a feeling he would want them.
