Waiting
Authors Note: I know everyone has been waiting for this, so I've pounded this SHORT chapter out extra quickly. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I was quite surprised to get so many enthusiastic responses! Reviews are loved and treasured. To those I haven't responded to yet, apologies, I'll get to you in the next day or so. Promise! I love hearing everyone's thoughts. Warnings for graphic descriptions in this chapter. Don't like robot nookie? Go elsewhere please. I debated putting a 'M' rating on this, but I don't think it is that obnoxious. Please enjoy!
Chapter 7
Earth, Autobot Base, washracks...
Optimus Prime stood tall and watched the small, tough femme in front of him with a concerned expression. It wasn't hard to fathom how both of them were getting worked up by being so close and open with one another. While being as modest and graceful as he could, he knew that females found him to be very attractive indeed. He had been the treasured object of many adoring femmes throughout his time as Autobot Commander, and he also knew that it wasn't just the power of his position or his title as 'Prime' that drew so many admirers. As Ironhide often put it when he had drunk too much high grade (which was often), he was a femme magnet; 'Commander Femme Magnet', to be specific. He was a very handsome and desirable mech. He didn't want to be envied for it. He didn't want his soldiers or anyone else to love him just because he was gorgeous. His looks and charisma usually brought him more trouble than anything else when it came to the opposite sex... and those of his gender who couldn't help themselves.
"Arcee," Optimus began gently, "please do not be embarrassed. I would be more worried if this situation was not affecting you in some way, considering your goal of producing a sparkling." As another fan in his chassis cheerfully and blatantly hummed to life under the direction of his awakening interface systems, he smiled wryly, "I hope I do not need to say out loud what state I am in, also."
The pink and purple femme still wasn't looking at him. She was staring at his ankles. Damn mech even has good looking feet, for Primus sake! As she listened to him talking, she turned his words over in her head. So, he was admitting that he was riled up too. Good.
"You know, Optimus," Arcee slowly began, lifting her head and boldly staring up into his face, "I've always found you to be a bit of an enigma when it comes to us femmes."
Prime cocked his head, "How so?"
"Knowing what you look like and who you are, you could have had every femme on Cybertron hanging off you and wanting to worship you. Any femme you wanted could've been yours." She kept looking at him curiously, "But I've never met a femme that has been on your berth and I honestly can't name any femme that has been close to you at all. You just don't seem interested in any of us. Why is that?"
Optimus' optics slid away from her gaze to look at some point behind her. His jawplate stiffened up. He shifted on his feet uneasily. He was under pressure from both his interface drive (which was racing along preparing itself to join with a femme) and his spark (which was excitedly pulsing away in his chest and making him uncomfortably warm). He was steadfastly ignoring both, but unless something changed soon, his firm control would begin to shatter.
"You think I don't like femmes?" Prime said hesitantly, bringing his gaze back to hers.
Arcee shivered. Those gorgeous blue optics of his were going to be the death of her! "Perhaps. I mean, you keep yourself apart from us, and yes, that's your job as Leader to remain detached in some ways, but still," she studied his face, "a mech like you should have been sparkmated long ago."
"A mech like... me," Prime echoed, pondering her statement. "Hmmm."
Arcee began to think she'd gone too far with her loose mouthplates, so she was relived when he smiled softly and his optics brightened. His massive blue and red frame was still dripping fluids all over the floor. His presence so close to her was nearly overwhelming. He was this tall, broad, massively powered, sexy mechanism that was drawing her into him as if she was made to be clinging to his chassis and howling in pleasure. It didn't help that her height compared to his put her face fractionally above where his crotchplate was. In her imagination, she was clawing off his crotchplates and running her hand over the male prize inside...
"Would you consider yourself ready to mate right now?" he asked boldly.
"What?" Arcee's optics shot open. Shocked. "N-now...? Like, now? You and me? What are you saying – you want to? You're willing to?"
A small chuckle rumbled from his chest, "More than willing, I would have thought that was obvious. If you so wished I could indulge your every desire. On the floor? Fine. Against the wall under the shower? No problem. Myself on my back with you on top? Sure. If you prefer to use my recharge berth, that is also an option. Am I being clear about this or should I elaborate further?"
The femme stood frozen. In front of her stood the most desirable male Cybertronian who ever existed, openly offering himself to her with no restrictions. What the...?! This wasn't the way Optimus was supposed to act! Wasn't he shy? Out of her reach? Bereft of any knowledge or experience with how to handle a female? Her knees began to wobble. Without thought, she reached out a small hand and braced it against his midsection between his headlights to steady herself. Realising just who she was touching; and where; she yelped and began to draw her hand back – but was stopped by Prime's large nimble hand closing over her wrist and keeping her there, her palm flat against his metal. Her mouthplates hung open in shock when he gently – ever so gently – slid his hand behind her shoulders and pulled her into him. His metal was hot. It was as if his whole system had just lit up and come alive. He fitted her against his lower body, encouraging her to lean into him and showing no displeasure at the contact he was having with her.
"Shhh. Relax. I mean no harm. If you do not wish for anything to happen, that is your right and I will respect it, but I strongly believe you should know a few things first."
Arcee closed her optics and shivered. His hand was stroking the area between her shoulders where she would hitch her rifle, the other had settled itself behind her hips and was keeping her close. Despite her natural tension, it was nice. It felt way too good to be encompassed by his arms and pressed up against his armored body. It was a place that made her feel safe and protected against the intruding world. Feelings of comfort and arousal began to squash her nervousness. Venting a quiet sigh, she drew her hands up against the metal of his truck grill and leaned in, as content as she could be with her body reacting hard to his mech presence and sending warmth and spiralling desire back and forth between her spark and her feminine valve between her legs.
Keeping her within his hold, Optimus began to speak. His voice reverberated back at her through his chest. "I have been with many femmes, Arcee. Unlike Ironhide, I do not advertise my services or make myself ready and willing to any femme with open thighs and a slick valve. I am capable of mounting you and siring a sparkling for you right at this moment if you so wish, please do not think I am shy, inexperienced," his hand on her hips went lower to touch briefly between her legs, tenderly rubbing her crotch plating, "or a fumbling ineffective lover."
Arcee jerked against his touch, wanting more, pushing her face into his metal and moaning. She was hot enough to consider jumping any bot with an erect spike right now.
Optimus removed his hand from between her thighs and returned it to her back. It made her whimper. "You need to know that the responses you are feeling to my touch are not wholly under your control. Your programming and femme instincts are reacting to my presence and attractiveness. Right now, I could easily convince you to interface with me, and you would thoroughly enjoy it." A sigh came from him. She felt him shift his weight from one foot to the other. "But that is precisely why you shouldn't. Your decision to mate with myself, or any other mech, should be made with an unburdened CPU after intense research and much forethought, and not because your interface drive is demanding a spike in your valve."
Arcee squeaked when he abruptly removed himself from being in contact with her. She blinked her optics several times. Her hand reached out to him. Wanting more. "Optimus..."
He accepted her hand in his – meshing her slim, pink accented digits with his strong silver ones - but refused to let her lean back into him. She tipped her head back and gave him an earnest and longing expression of 'Please?'.
"No femme," he chuckled at her, "I won't join with you." His thumb caressed her forefinger. "Unless you made your decision to be with me before we came into the washracks, hmm? Be honest. Did you?"
Arcee muttered and grumbled, eventually spitting out a response. "No, you are at the top of my list but I haven't made a final decision yet." Her spark was getting painful. Here was a mech capable of giving her the most intense overload of her life with no strings attached, and he was saying no? Frag it. Frag all mechs to hell! Stupid, ineffective, high and mighty, know-it-all -
"Come, thank you for washing me so graciously," Optimus turned her reluctant body around with his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the exit, "but I must return to my duties. Now, I think it would be good if-" Prime froze as the door opened and an impatient obnoxious mech was revealed standing in the corridor with his arms crossed over his chest. "Ratchet?"
Arcee cringed when a blue beam came from Ratchet's wrist analyser and swept over her midsection.
The CMO's expression changed from hopeful to irritated and flabbergasted when his scan showed a very aroused femme who revealed no signs of interfacing activity and more importantly – no sparkling orb in her abdomen. "You didn't do it?!"
"Didn't do what, Ratchet?" Prime said mildly, removing his hands from Arcee's shoulders and stepping up to the cocky CMO to tower over him. "Clean my shoulder? It is now perfectly fine, thank you for your concern." The Autobot Commander put his hands on his hips and stared the other mech down. "Was there something else you were after?"
Ratchet grunted, growled something unsanitary and stomped back down the corridor, displeased.
"Wow. Well, I think I'm not the only one who needs one pit of an interfacing," Arcee said shakily, watching Ratchet's cranky aft disappear around the corner.
"He'll go and annoy Ironhide, do not concern yourself with worrying about his urges, he will be tranquil and mild come tomorrow morning," Optimus Prime answered, stretching out his arm and rolling his shoulder. Totally unconcerned.
"WHAT?!"
