Warnings: Mature sexual content. Slash. Sticky.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers
Ironhide stomped towards the shooting range, more than ready to blow off a little steam. He was just about ready to strangle the twins, just because Prowl wasn't around to punish them that didn't mean they could act like sparklings. Honestly, this was a military base not a frat house! You weren't supposed to put stimulants in the energon just because you thought everyone needed 'a little extra energy'.
Snarling in distemper Ironhide yanked his gun out of subspace, firing at the target with an accuracy that only years of experience could give you. He didn't even have to concentrate on the target, instinct taking over as he let his mind wonder. The last few days on the Ark had slowly but surely chipped away at his patience, Jazz had been almost unbearably smug, Prime had become rather jumpy since yesterday, Red Alert was almost always smiling (Ironhide prided himself on being a nigh unflappable mech but that was downright creepy), Ratchet kept grumbling over something, and Prowl was to busy seducing mechs to attend to his duties. In short, the chain of command had lost their minds.
Grumbling slightly he reloaded with another clip of ammo, barely taking time to notice that not one of his shots strayed from the bulls-eye. Kneeling down Ironhide fiddled with the gun a moment, carefully watching for any small malfunction (no matter how insignificant any trouble with a gun could be the difference between life and death). Satisfied that everything was sliding in normally Ironhide lifted his head to look at the target only to come face to face with somebot's codpeice.
Blinking in a almost bored fashion Ironhide absently studied the mech's black pelvic armor, optics lingering on the red arrow. He already knew who it was without looking up, only one mech could walk that silently. Sighing in resignation Ironhide subspaced his gun and reached up to cup Prowl's narrow hips, rubbing his thumbs over the metal. Ironhide knew very well what was expected of him, in being as old as he was he had plenty of experience with dealing with mechs in heat.
Leaning forward he slid his glossa over the red arrow on Prowl's crotch, turning off his olfactory sensor before he could become enraptured by Prowl's smell. Ironhide had no problem with facing the younger mech, but he wasn't going to treat this as anything other than a job. Prowl was a good comrade and that's all Ironhide would ever see him as, a comrad.
That's not to say the younger mech wasn't gorgeous Ironhide had no problem admitting that, he had even given Prowl quite a few appreciative glances (who wouldn't?). But he had no desire to seduce the tactician, he was far too old for the enforcer and his spark belonged to Chromia. With Prowl he almost had a 'look but don't touch' policy.
Gently pushing at Prowl's hips he pinned the younger against the wall, delving his fingers into armor gaps to stroke at sensitive wiring. Ignoring the gasps and moans coming from Prowl's vocalizer, Ironhide slid a hand down to tap at the Datsun's interface panel almost impatiently. The second the panel opened Ironhide slipped two fingers into Prowl's valve, experience telling him that mechs in heat were always well lubricated.
The old warrior almost snorted when he caught sight of the various small scratches and dents that covered Prowl's inner thighs and hips. Really those young mechs acted as if they had never seen a valve before, just because a mech was in heat that didn't mean he was just something to stick your spike into. Rubbing circles along the valve's inner walls Ironhide smirked at Prowl's mew, the Datsun clearly unexpecting the tender treatment.
Ironhide took his time with fingering the 2IC, taking great pride in the whimpers and pleas spilling from the enforcer's lips (just because this was a job it didn't mean Ironhide couldn't enjoy it). Slipping his fingers away from the dripping valve Ironhide stood to his full height, his hands encircling Prowl's waist and lifting him with ease. Lining Prowl up he extended his spike and slowly penetrated the Datsun's valve, smirking when Prowl's hands clawed at his back plating desperately.
Keeping his thrusts slow and deep Ironhide reached down to capture Prowl's thighs in a strong grip, spreading the Datsun wide. Prowl whined and gasped, pleas and curses falling from his vocalizer while Ironhide listened with interest. He had no idea that the ever prim and proper Prowl knew language suited for the slums of Kaon. Guess it was true that you learn something new everyday.
Prowl groaned in frustration shuddering his optics, the thick spike inside him felt amazing but Ironhide refused to go faster. The enforcer prefered interfacing to be hard and fast, but the old bot wasn't pounding into him the way that he wanted. It left Prowl with a pleasurable ache in his valve that he wanted to both savor and satisfy. Wiggling for more stimulation Prowl gasped, Ironhide's length now repeatedly hitting the primary sensor in his valve.
Ironhide chuckled at the smaller's writhing, he knew very well what he was doing to the Datsun. He never once sped up his thrusts, he would give Prowl the overload the younger needed but it would be by his terms. He wanted Prowl to know that just because he was in heat it didn't mean that everything would go his way, and if that meant slowly teasing him to overload so be it.
Prowl's optics snapped open, the beginning tingle of overload racing through his circuits. Bucking his hips frantically Prowl whimpered, begging for just a bit more stimulation. He could practically taste the overload eluding him, he just needed a... little... more... THERE!!!
Prowl sobbed as sharp ecstasy shot through his systems like liquid fire.
Staring down at the keening mech that was writhing against him and the wall Ironhide smirked, an aura of smugness surrounding him. It was always fun to show these young bots that he could still interface as good (if not better) than they could. They may have a bit more endurance, but he had experience.
Still smirking Ironhide pulled out, his spike still hard and soaked with Prowl's lubricants. Watching in amusement as Prowl slid down the wall to his knees, Ironhide waited until the police bot looked up at him before motioning towards his spike. He never came in a mech in heat (he didn't want to accidentally sire any sparklings), instead preferring to climax in their mouth.
Prowl's optics brightened a tiny bit as he glanced once at Ironhide face then back to the spike that was being offered to him. Nibbling at his lower lip component Prowl studied the length before crawling forward, keeping his movements slow and sensual for Ironhide's viewing pleasure. Reaching out a hand he guided the red elder to sit on the ground, crawling between Ironhide's legs he licked his lips once and gave a tiny grin.
Leaning down Prowl flicked his glossa over the slit at the tip of Ironhide's spike before resting on his elbows and taking the head of the thick length into his mouth, keeping his aft raised in the air proudly. Humming Prowl took more into his mouth, tasting his own lubricant and savoring Ironhide's low groan. Relaxing his throat tubing Prowl swallowed the old warrior's spike until his nasal ridge bumped against Ironhide's panel.
Prowl purred when Ironhide grabbed his aft, keeping a firm grip on the metal, and bucked his hips. Lavishing attention on Ironhide's spike with his glossa he was rewarded with a deep growl, the sound sending a jolt through his circuits. Reaching up he pinched a bundle of wires in Ironhide's hip joint playfully (which Ironhide reciprocated by smacking his aft) Prowl started bobbing his head, sucking hard whenever he drew back only to swallow the length again.
It wasn't long before Ironhide grabbed his head, thrusting into his mouth repeatedly. A long low moan was the only warning Prowl got before transfluid burst into his mouth, thick and hot. He was forced to swallow it when Ironhide refused to move his hands, only letting him up once every drop was gone.
Ironhide stared at Prowl's flushed faceplates hazily, reaching forward to cup the mech's jaw. Running his thumb over the soft white lips Ironhide smirked.
"That's one hellova talented mouth ya got thar kid, ya should use it more."
Prowl smiled at him, giving a small wink before standing and sauntering away. Ironhide watched him go, watching his swaying aft with interest. Once the 2IC was out of sight Ironhide chuckled, leaning back to rest against the wall. Licking his lips he reviewed their interface session, the memories of that tight valve and hot mouth causing his spike to twitch in new found arousal.
Maybe the younger bots were on to something when they stared at Prowl with lust and longing.
Couldn't resist, I have no doubt that due to Ironhide's age he had more than enough experience when heat cycles and how to deal with them.
Special thanks to Lucretzia, she's been helping me since the second chapter and has been a big influence on my writing