Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairing: Mirage/Tarinash, Prowl/Noitefel, others
Rating: R for mech/mech
Codes: Slash
Summary: The Autobots and Tezita take the opportunity to celebrate Megatron's destruction before facing the reality that the war is far from over. Note: 'Meu un suave' 'My gentle one' in Galician


Wanderer's Home acr 3 pt 12: The Party of All Time


A party didn't even begin to describe what was happening outside the Ark that night.

Optimus Prime sat on the edge of the celebration with Lyzen and Nightstalker, who had Windfall snuggled up against his side and seemed to be happily affectionate with the SpecOps inventor. Crashcourse and Skjöldur were playing guard; volunteered, as Prime understood it, so the social ones could enjoy the party. Most likely so Noitefel could enjoy the party, as it was the tactician's normal shift.

Of course, knowing them as well as he did... they probably didn't exactly mind to be out of the social ring.

"I hope they're all ready for when reality hits again," Optimus mused quietly, sure that Lyzen heard him. "I doubt the rest of the Decepticons will all go along with the bargain."

"If more than a handful do, I'll be surprised," Lyzen said evenly, her gaze on the party, picking out pairings and judging the seriousness of each. "Though they might surprise me and display some survival instincts."

"They have them, but they'll need more than just seeing Megatron beaten in single combat before they're convinced," Optimus explained quietly. "At least until we've retaken the anti-orbital laser platforms. But that's for another time - Shockwave might surprise me pleasantly for once."

"He's not planning to," she said before sipping a bit of local high grade. "The bulk of the Nemesis crew is much less eager to find out what'll happen if they refuse her first orders. They know they're first in our sights, and from Soundwave, they know it's not just the Tezita they see they need to worry about."

"Always helpful, particularly given that Soundwave has already agreed to join you," he mused. "What are your plans for the Nemesis?"

"Repair it and use it as a flagship, at least for a few vorn," she said easily. "Amoni and Etri are there now, getting to know who's who a little better and preparing the ship to integrate into our systems. It will remain Decepticon headquarters here on Earth for the time being. Most plans will be chosen after Shockwave has formally refused to comply and we find out how many Cons are more loyal to him than afraid of us."

"Honestly, I'm grateful - it's hard enough with Thundercracker here, if we'd had to take in the rest of them... it wouldn't be possible to control everybody, I'm afraid," he admitted. "How is Etri handling the loss of the connection it had?"

"Thundercracker may return to the Nemesis once it is secured if he wishes." Lyzen said, her optics drawn to the blue Seeker who was keeping to the sidelines but not completely separate as he talked with Corsa, Olasia, Ratchet, Skyfire and Starscream. "Etri is proving that it won't be an Infiltrator much longer," she chuckled with fond amusement and a bit of evident pride. "It intends to be a Tezita liaison to Cybertron, specifically between our Intel branches." She paused to take another sip and smile at the way the Tezita were interspersed with Autobots and socializing well. "It intends to court Whiplash properly, though I would be happier if I had a better idea of how well that will go over."

"Only time will tell," Optimus nodded slightly. "I don't know him very well, though the general difficulties that Intel officers have with relationships will probably be a part of it. At least that's something Etri understands."

"Very much so," she chuckled lightly. "It understands his issues very well. It will be interesting to see how that turns out. I am somewhat surprised that Elita-1 is not here to celebrate with you."

"I wish she could be," Optimus admitted. "She may be able to arrive later, but right now all our forces on Cybertron are working on spreading the word there, trying to take advantage of the good will it might be able to generate. Megatron hasn't been a major factor there in ganon though, so it's not as much of a change for them."

"The energon shipments are likely of more value than news of his demise," she agreed with a ruffle of her outer nanites. "Still, the war has been in his name all this time, so it may have more effect than we're expecting. It has definitely rattled the lower Decepticon ranks, those who joined more out of seeing it as the best of bad choices. There's a lot of murmuring about what kind of leader Ezara is, even as Shockwave is trying to crush them."

"Are your agents providing active support to them now, or still only observing?" He asked her.

"Subtle support for now," she cast a fond smile for the couple she had particular interest in succeeding. "I need my Cons in a position to do significant damage when the war becomes formal with Shockwave. The Neutrals are mostly spreading word. This does bring us to what we'd hoped to avoid," she settled her gaze on him. "I know from my sources that Shockwave has no intention of surrendering. With what I have here, we can take Cybertron. However, I do agree that it would be best in the long run if it at least appears that you and the Autobots simply took advantage of Megatron's destruction, instead of a Tezita invasion."

"We've been planning for it for some time," he nodded. "Though it's probably a topic better saved for another night. I hadn't really thought that the Autobots would appear to be behind the retaking of Cybertron entirely at any point, myself. The Tezita being involved was always going to be an aspect that I acknowledged. How much of the role you play publicly will have to be determined, but as new allies who took the central organizing force out of the Decepticons, we can still make actually retaking Cybertron seem to be a Cybertronian effort, as long as it doesn't seem to be ten thousand Tezita warriors as the driving force. I imagine this will also work to Ezara's favor, with the rest of the Tezita, when they arrive?"

"To an extent, though what truly matters is winning the challenge. What do you think of them?" She motioned with her heard towards where Mirage was leading Tarinash from the dance floor with all the elegance of a royal ball in the pair.

"That they're attending an entirely different party than the rest of us," Optimus chuckled. "It's good to see that Mirage has found somebody he feels he can socialize with though... what do you think?"

"I like Mirage for him. It is still a political bonding if it happens, because between them it can be nothing else," her expression softened a bit more at the light touch of foreheads, a Cybertronian tradition, before Mirage walked towards the bar. "It will be very good for Cybertron as well."

"Agreed... though I'm not quite sure the Tower is ready for the introduction of Tezita breeding," Optimus chuckled lowly.

"I'm sure they will adapt, given the wealth he'll bring," she sipped her drink. "Tarinash's family is very wealthy and will put considerable resources towards his comfort and status here, and he is a fine excuse for me to be considerably more generous than I could normally be. He's not Intel, but he's still one of mine."


"I don't suppose you have anything other than Ironhide's blends back there?" Mirage asked Sparkplug as he reached the bar, the human one of the few who'd been willing to take a break from celebrating long enough to make sure that there were the appropriate 'social lubricants' for everybody to celebrate with.

"Three of Sideswipe's, Kup's, Prime's, Starscream's and six variants from the Tezita," he grinned up at the spy. "What's your poison?"

"Which ones are Otalon and Farim drinking?" Mirage chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm looking for something that doesn't taste like industrial metal solvent."

"This," Sparkplug pulled out a medium blue cube and a soft rosy cube. "They use the glasses," he motioned to the fine crystal goblets on corner of the bar. They were too heavy for the human to handle so he had them pour themselves. "Lyzen commented that Tarinash is fond the rose colored one."

"I'll have to thank her for the tip," he nodded, taking the rosy cube and pouring two glasses, picking them up. "At least it's not what their fearless leader drinks," he added, shaking his head slightly and taking a sip to taste the lightly acidic, refreshing sparkle of it against his glossa. It was a mild mix as well, only slightly stronger than standard grade he noted as it settled in his primary tank.

"That would be a good idea," the human nodded. "I get the feeling you're dating her kid, or possibly grandkid. I think she likes you, but that can change."

"I've probably got a better idea of just how quickly than you do," Mirage observed, mildly amused as he turned to try and spot Tarinash. "Though at least you have somebody to commiserate with now," he joked lightly, noting his lover near the rocky face of the mountain with another Tezita, one of the warriors. He stiffened fractionally when the warrior pushed Tarinash against the stone and kissed him hard.

"Excuse me," he said a little stiffly as he started towards the scene.

::Want me to find somebody else to chat with?:: He asked Tarinash privately. The link opened, but no words came through right away. Merely an acknowledgment of his question and the scramble of a very distracted processor trying to come up with an answer.

Mirage was certain that the sound that came from his lover when the warriors hands moved down his frame and pinned him against the rock was more distressed than pleasured, but he couldn't deny an element of the later.

He didn't particularly care though - he knew full well that a party like this could end up in places you didn't want it to go, even if you enjoyed getting there. He moved through the crowd purposefully, every bolt the Tower mech he was created to be as he reached up and put a hand on the warrior's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I believe you're cutting in without permission," he said with affable politeness that hid an implicit promise that it would be a mistake to keep doing so. It was a tone that he hadn't used in ganon, never really had the reason to, but hoped it would be as effective, yet polite, with the Tezita as it was viewed as being in the Towers.

If it wasn't... well, that could end up leading to less refined ways to settle the 'disagreement.' He knew everybody expected a few brawls to start between overcharged warriors tonight, but he really preferred to let Sunstreaker or Sideswipe be the first ones getting hauled off by their tailpipes by an irate Prowl or Ratchet.

"Where..." the warrior blinked down at him, taking a moment to translate what was said and how.

It was all the distraction Tarinash needed to squirm free and dart behind Mirage's frame. The light touch in the small of his back conveyed a silent thanks, and a sense that this was not serious as far as Tarinash was concerned.

A slight cock of the head at the posture Tarinash had taken and the warrior shrugged and walked off.

"Sorry it took so long to get your drink," Mirage offered, presenting the explanation that was expected, by himself at least. "I was trying to find a good blend," he explained, handing him the crystal glass. ::Are you okay?:: He asked him silently, his honest concern clear.

"It can be difficult in these mixed events," Tarinash smiled with more warmth than was required; just shy of too much for public. ::Yes, I'm fine,:: he assured his lover. ::I was quite agreeable the last time he had an opportunity. He didn't think to check that things may have changed. Military really do not comprehend 'not available' in these conditions.::

::All right - if you want to play around with him, it's all right by me,:: Mirage told him. ::But if you'd rather stick with me, I'm quite happy to entertain,:: he added warmly.

::I much prefer your company,:: he purred through the connection, his touch light but almost full body as he slid a hand down Mirage's arm. "Perhaps when the fighting has died down you can spare a metacycle or two to visit Lydrom and meet my family."

"When things have died down and I've found out what happened to my own House," Mirage said gently, taking his hand. He smiled slightly when his lover leaned into the contact. "It may seem silly, but I need to know where I stand, what's left. If there's anything left besides memories and rubble."

"There is nothing silly about wanting to know where you stand," Tarinash said firmly before taking a sip of his effervescent high grade. "To be sure whether you are asking me to bond into your House, or to bond into mine."

"And what I'd have to offer, either way," he nodded slightly, taking a sip himself. "Thank you. Maybe now we'll be able to get some stability on Cybertron and take a look at things... even if Shockwave does fight back, he'll be forced to spend his time preparing for a Tezita invasion instead of hunting for us."

"And dealing with a rebellion in his ranks," Tarinash smiled with a faint shiver of excitement. "Lyzen is truly spectacular to watch do her favorite work, and she has two of her favorites intending to stay. No matter what it looks like is happening, she will not permit such dangers to continue."

"Her favorites?" Mirage asked teasingly. "Would you happen to be one of them?"

"I like to think so," he gave a coyly shy smile and tucked his head towards his shoulder as he moved just a bit closer. "Being civilian raised does make me a pet project if nothing else. A valuable resource to be protected," he slid a finger along Mirage's side where the action was protected from view, leaving a tingle of sensor nodes in it's wake.

::Mmm ... you're giving me ideas, dear,:: Mirage warned him playfully, his engine purring. "Why don't we go take a dance?"

::Good,:: he gave a playfully coy smile as they walked towards the large area designated for dancing after leaving their glasses at Lyzen's table to ensure that no one doctored them. ::I like your ideas.::

::I'll try to stay creative then,:: Mirage teased, taking his hand and pulling him up into a far more courtly dance than anybody else was used to, after broadcasting a request to Blaster for some more appropriate music.


In the dimness at the edge of the party, the two less-social tacticians of the Ark noted the different music and Noitefel smiled.

"Dance with me?" he asked Prowl softly enough that a refusal would not be noticed by anyone. "While the music suits the more dignified ones we know."

"All right," Prowl smiled slightly after a moment, standing to follow him out. "Though I should warn you, I haven't danced since before the war."

"That makes both of us," Noitefel rumbled softly as their frames came close, the movements of the old dances coming back to them as easily as any plan. He gently lowered his forehead, resting it lightly against the red chevron he enjoyed caressing so much and drew his lover as close as he dared in public. Between the two movements he was well aware of how much attention he'd garnered from various Autobots. It was, after all, the first public display worth talking about even if it was an accepted fact that they were lovers.

Just that sent a small thrill through normally calm processors. While Prime had privately given permission for this affair, encouraged it even, to be allowed such a public display by both his Prime and his very private lover were enough to bring his systems half way to overload by itself. He ruthlessly suppressed the desire to kiss, to touch and drive his lover to a very visible and audible overload before everyone.

Where did that programming come from? Noitefel struggled with the nearly alien desires, finding them far more difficult than usual to suppress. He knew he wanted to publicly claim his lover, he had since Las Vegas when Prowl had agreed to share pleasure and his berth, but this was something far more.

Could it be the Tezita influencing him? They'd already witnessed several couples and threesomes in very public displays ranging from traditional to purely physical stimulation to the strange nanite mass merging that was unique to the Tezita warrior class.

Prowl, on the other hand, was more nervous than excited. He was keenly aware of every pair of optics on them. The ones who were approving, the ones who were amused - even the ones who were just surprised that he actually could dance, though not nearly as well as the more aristocratic couple putting on their own show of subtle contact and grace.

He wanted to relax - tonight, of all nights, he ought to be able to. But it was still in the back of his processors that everybody here needed to believe that his decisions were made for the simplest reasons. If the benefit was greater than the cost, it was worth it. If he asked somebody to risk their chassis, it was because they were the ones most likely to get out in one piece while succeeding, not because he didn't like them. If he pulled somebody off the front line, it was because they were better used somewhere else, not because he wanted to protect them.

It was true, and he and Noitefel both knew the Spark-deep compulsion to keep it true. But the rest of them couldn't disengage on that level, not as a matter of routine. It was coding specific to advanced tactical programming and the battle computer that went with it. It was one of the big reasons he'd always been the 'base hard-aft' - if they didn't believe he was capable of being soft, they wouldn't think that was why he'd made a particular decision.

~Would you like me to back off?~ Noitefel interrupted Prowl's uneasy thoughts. ~I do not wish you to be uncomfortable.~

~No - it's just nerves,~ Prowl explained. ~Hard to relax with everybody else around. Optimus has a much easier time of it.~

Noitefel smiled very softly at his lover's admission. ~Can I do anything to help?~ he asked gently, his tone affectionate and supportive. He wanted nothing more than to caress Prowl's cheek and kiss concerns away as they did in private.

~Help me forget everybody's watching, but don't go too far?~ Prowl offered shyly. ~How can you be so close to the people you have to command?~

Noitefel smiled and ran his hands lightly along Prowl's sides, encouraging the pleasure of the contact to flow through his lover's neural net. ~For the Guard, it is what we are. A tight-knit team who intend only to serve the Prime. We do not have normal programming, especially when it comes to each other. I am close to them because the programming demands that I know them, know their reactions as intimately as I know my own. That same programming produces pride if one dies in service to the Prime, and only small grief when one is lost otherwise. I came on line a pre-programmed Guard. I have never been anything else. I can not explain it better.~

~And it's in their coding to trust you implicitly,~ Prowl said understandingly, pressing into his touches subconsciously. ~Maybe now that the war will start slowing down here, I can afford a little more leeway.~

~I think you might be surprised at how much your crew trusts you,~ Noitefel murmured as he continued the soothing contact, careful not to give into his more lustful urgings. ~I know you don't perceive it, but I can see the looks you get. Even the Twins respect your abilities despite how much your rule-abiding nature irritates them. They care about you. It hurts many of them to think you do not care in return.~

~It's going to take a lot of getting used to,~ Prowl admitted softly. ~Want to get something to drink?~ He suggested as they moved somewhat towards the bar.

~Certainly,~ he nearly purred, a hint of desire leaking into his voice as they walked towards the human tending the Cybertronian sized bar. ~Everyone went all out to supply it well today. Sideswipe even brewed two of Whippoorwill's recipes; I think you would like one of them. Mild, sweet, with a gentle buzz that is difficult to overcharge on.~

~Sounds good,~ Prowl smiled, following him over. "How are things going?" He asked Sparkplug when they reached him.

The human smiled up at them, still feeling a little weird at seeing the intimacy between machines, especially ones he thought of as male. "Nicely busy. You guys sure like your high grade."

"What soldiers don't?" Prowl chuckled lowly. "Particularly ones who've seen the enemy general go down hard? It'll probably flare up again when the Cybertronian contingent arrives."

"I'm sure," Sparkplug chuckled himself. "So what's your poi-preference?" he changed his wording when it occurred to him that this particular pair might just take 'poison' literally.

"Noitefel suggested one of the milder blends - it sounds like a good idea to me," Prowl said easily. "Help me relax a little bit for once, maybe."

"The pink-silver one that Sideswipe brewed," the Guard suggested with an affectionate caress down Prowl's back strut before his hand settled on the side of Prowl's hip to caress his thumb along it lightly. "I'd like the white one."

"The milder of Whippoorwill's recipes," Sparkplug grinned and pulled out the requested cubes. "It's nice to see you trying to relax," he grinned at them both. "How we just need to get Red Alert out here."

"Skjöldur is planning on trying to relieve him in a couple joor," Noitefel chuckled. "Whether she manages is another matter."

"With all these people around, it's not likely," Prowl mused. "I take it you don't mind leaving Prime with a lighter guard as much now, since Megatron's gone?"

"That, the number of loyal bots here and the Tezita," Noitefel nodded as they picked up their cubes and moved off slowly as the Twins came up for another round for themselves. "The fact that we are all here, even if not officially on duty, and Prime asked me to try and give Red Alert an opportunity to join in. It is a night for celebration like no other."

"Well, I wish her luck then. I worry about him sometimes," Prowl admitted, taking a sip and letting the gentle buzz of the charge spread through him. It was mild, as promised, but still this cube would be enough to looses his social protocols if he didn't fight it too much.

"As Prime worried about you," he murmured softly and drew his lover a little closer in the dimmer light out outside the dance floor and main ring of tables. "A handful of mechs on this base take far more of the weight of responsibility than they should."

"Mmm... being the only mechs who can do the jobs does that," Prowl pointed out, more comfortable now that they weren't being watched as closely, pressing against Noitefel lightly. "I'm sparked for it though. The same with Ratchet, really. Red Alert is another story entirely."

"Yes, I read those reports," he murmured and leaned closer himself, drawing his lover just a little closer as they sipped the mild high grade. "It's good he found a duty post where it is as much an asset as it is. Perhaps once the war dies down the resources can be put towards finding the fix for him."

"Ratchet's eager to get to work," Prowl smiled slightly. "I think he's fond of him, though it could just be wanting to get to work on a challenging case too."

"A challenge that doesn't involve battle damage and likely lost friends," Noitefel murmured and snuck a quick kiss to the edge of the door wing near him now that they were in the near-darkness outside the main party grounds. "It has been far too long for him, I expect. For anyone but the true warriors."

"Long enough I'm not sure I'll be able to go back to work," Prowl admitted softly. "As much as I'm looking forward to it... do you want to go somewhere more private?" He asked his lover quietly.

"If it means I get to keep touching you," he rumbled softly. "I believe we've done our due diligence as officers."

"I do too," Prowl said, touching his shoulder lightly while they had a little privacy yet.

::My quarters?:: He suggested silently. ::We can keep a monitor active just in case.::

Noitefel nodded slightly as they parted enough to walk easily, the Guard's door-wing over Prowl's and covering part of his back and head in an unmistakable claim and protective gesture all in one.

They made their way back into the ship, grateful it was pretty well empty as they made their way to Prowl's quarters. He activated a monitor on what was going on outside, taking a quick look around before he returned his focus to Noitefel a little sheepishly.

"Sorry - should've waited a bit longer, shouldn't I?" He asked, returning and giving his lover a gentle kiss.

"There is no need to apologize for being who you are," he smiled gently and drew the slightly smaller mech close for a longer, warmer kiss. "I was looking too."

"Good," Prowl smiled slightly. "Now... I think we were going to work on relaxing a bit more, now that everybody's not watching?" He reached back, running his hands gently along Noitefel's door-wings.

"Yes," he moaned softly, sliding his own hands along the lower edge of Prowl's door-wings as he leaned in for a kiss. "Or perhaps working each other up," he murmured as his mouth moved down Prowl's jaw to nip a neck cable lightly.

"Funny how often those two blend together," Prowl chuckled, his engine purring as he leaned his head back with a low groan of pleasure, his fingers working along Noitefel's surface, tracing each contour he found.

Noitefel just smiled and continued to kiss his way along his lover's jaw, to his neck. It was an effort to control the trembling of his door-wings as much as he did. Eight months sharing Prowl's berth and the desire, the need that could sap the strength from his frame at a touch from his lover and if anything the fire was burning hotter than before.

He moaned, his head falling back and optics dimming almost completely when Prowl's hands slipped into the hinges of his door-wings. "Y-you keep that up I won't make it to the berth."

"Who said I wanted to let you?" Prowl teased him lightly, nuzzling his neck lightly as his hands continued their familiar explorations. "Yours are so much more sensitive than mine are, that's hardly my fault."

Noitefel's fingers curled against Prowl's side-seams, seeking to return at least some of the pleasure he was receiving. He wanted to tell his lover it wasn't sensor sensitivity, but Prowl that was doing this to him. All that came out of his vocalizer was garbled in static though, and his head fell forward. He pressed his face against Prowl's neck, trembling as his grip shifted to clutch his lover to him, knowing he only had moments before pleasure crested into an uncontrollable overload.

Prowl let his mind brush against Noitefel's, offering him an extra level of intimacy as they pressed against each other, his fingers tracing up his sides agonizingly slowly, the sense of love and intimacy more potent now.

It was more than Noitefel could take and he muffled wordless cries against his lover's neck as his frame shook, energy rushing across circuits and his neural net in a cascade that bordered on pain in its intensity. He crushed Prowl to him, his muscle cables tightening at the conflicting signals. Door-wings pressed even harder into the touch that had set it off, trying to prolong the experience.

A half-thought, something too fragmented to be conscious, reached Prowl; a growing desire for this to not end and the sense that it was not an entirely welcome feeling.

"Is something wrong?" Prowl asked him as he recovered, guiding him to his berth and laying down next to him.

"No," Noitefel shifted so he could kiss his lover and give attention to the black and white's door-wings.

"It feels like there is," Prowl groaned, trying to keep focused. "Something that's bothering your processors." A part of him was telling him to shut up and not break the mood, but he couldn't help being concerned.

Noitefel paused, then lowered his head to obscure his face when he tensed. "I'm sorry I let that through," he murmured, his touches turning soothing. "My code is modifying. It's an unpleasant experience like this."

"You don't have to apologize for something like that," Prowl reassured him with a gentle kiss. "It's not like you can help it... is it something you need to deal with?"

A long, low sigh came from his vents before he looked up to meet his lover's optics. "I am, it is merely ... distressing to be reminded of. Prime approves, more than I can understand. The rest is time." He shifted, his fingers tracing tender patterns on Prowl's door-wings as he rested his head on Prowl's chassis, listening to his spark-beat. "I am beginning to desire something beyond my duties."

"Believe it or not, that's a good sign," Prowl murmured, rubbing his back gently, encouraging his lover to relax. "Being able to go further than just what the job requires... gives you a reason to outlast it."

Noitefel couldn't help the strange chuckle that escaped or how pathetic it sounded, though the back of his processors pointed out it was better than the hysterical sounds he was making when he figured out why his attention would wander at times. "I was never intended to. Guards don't, not sparked ones." He shuddered, struggling to explain how absolutely terrifying it was to loose his grip on the existence he'd come back for.

"Meu un suave, calm down," Prowl told him firmly, the full voice of a commander behind the order. "Is it changing your ability to perform your job? Not at the sort of subconscious constancy you're used to demanding, but to do it when you're thinking about it?"

"No," he murmured, his frame slowly relaxing as the panic settle in response to the order and his processors fell into a much more normal pattern. "No, it does not," he said a little more firmly. "I do not understand it however. I have had lovers, long term ones even, yet in less than a stellar cycle my code is being rewritten over it now. It is not as if I am not needed as a campaign tactician."

"Is that the part that's changing, though?" Prowl asked him gently. "I've seen it happen before. It's different, but not really altering the important parts of you. I don't know why it's happening to you now, instead of with somebody else... but it's not a bad thing."

A low, almost bemused chuckle greeted that statement. "It does mean that if Prime ever doesn't need me, you're going to have your hands full of a very lost mech," he reached out to caress Prowl's far door-wing and sobered. "It's probably now because Prime wants it. Not you and me, specifically, but he seems to have issues with the idea of just being there to do a job. Guard programming reacts like that, adapts to the needs of our Prime. It doesn't change fundamentals, I'll always be a tactician and loyal, but if he needs me to ... to be less focused on him, it can happen. It still hurts, more than I expected it could."

"Hurts, or scares you?" Prowl asked him softly, with a gentle kiss. "There's a difference between the two... it's not that he doesn't need you, Noitefel. He does, and he knows it. He's never going to make you leave your post as long as you can serve. But he needs officers who have something more to live for, something outside of him. There's a lot of him that's tied up in needing us, and turning that around... it's kind of a confusing circle for him, I think," Prowl smiled gently.

"It's terrifying," Noitefel answered honestly, melting into the contact as his fingers continued to lightly explore Prowl's frame. "It hurts as well to break such deep rooted coding. Coming to terms with a Prime that has no grasp of what the Prime's Guard is..." he groaned his frustrations, his fingers curling as his door-wings hiked upwards and tensed. "There are joor I want to beat sense into him."

"The next Prime will probably be much better suited to the lifestyle," Prowl reassured him. "Whenever that happens. Like you all have been saying - the Matrix chooses the best mech for what it needs when it needs the new Prime," he soothed Noitefel, rubbing his side gently. "Remember who he was before, and what's known about him. And remember - he's lived through almost the entire war, from start to finish, on the front lines without the Guard there. It doesn't make you less necessary, but it makes you necessary for different things."

A soft sound of enjoyment escaped Noitefel, his optics dimming in pleasure as he rested with much of his chassis in contact with his lover. "I know," he murmured, trying to return the touches, well aware that Prowl hadn't overloaded and he was quickly sliding towards recharge between the physical and emotional releases he'd already had. "It does not always make the transition easier. Thank you, for wanting to help me cope."

"If you'd rather recharge right now, I can wait," Prowl offered, kissing him gently and found the contact returned with more affection than usual. "It's not a big deal."

"Perhaps not," Noitefel smiled and shifted, claiming a slightly more heated kiss before sliding his glossa along Prowl's lower lip, asking for entrance. "But you are so beautiful when you're lost in pleasure."

"No cop should ever be called beautiful," Prowl mock-grumbled before returning the kiss, pressing close and doing his best to relax, just listening for signs of any disturbances outside. He didn't hold back the moan and slight arch into Noitefel's touch when fingers pressed against the sensitive edges of his door-wings, working towards the protected edges near his back.

"Perhaps for a few joor you are no more a cop than I am a Guard," he rumbled seductively. "Just Prowl and Noitefel."

"Fair exchange," Prowl groaned lowly, shifting to let Noitefel at his back. "Try taking some time out after a few insane orn."

"In hope of many calmer ones to come," Noitefel shivered at the expanse of door-wing presented to him. He settled with his knees against his lover's hips and slid his palms slowly along the center of each wide expanse, following the line between black and white. It was all too easy for his processors to replay exactly what that felt like and his own door-wings quivered lightly. "I wonder who the crew was more shocked about entering a relationship."

"Mmm ... that would be me," Prowl groaned lowly, resting on his front, pressing into his touches. "They didn't really know you, or see you turn down Ezara flat," he offered, engine rumbling lowly as the most sensor-rich part of his frame outside his hands was stroked, caressed and gently worked to a state of quivering heat.

"True," he smiled down at his lover, soaking in the pleasure of doing this to him. A Prowl that felt good and relaxed was a joy in it's own right, and he was beginning to admit to himself that he was completely addicted. "Not many want to, and fewer have maintained it."

"Mmm ... though she has calmed down since then," he groaned, his optics dimming occasionally. "Love the way you touch me," he murmured, losing his focus on the conversation.

"Good," Noitefel leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck as he gripped the lower edge of both door-wings and stroke outward with enough pressure to set the sensor net on fire. "Because my door-wings have fewer sensors than yours."

"Mmm... I guess I do a good job then," Prowl groaned as his wings quivered lightly. "Am I really that different from the others?"

"Yes," he murmured, the admission still painful and more than a little unsettling. "You are." He continued to stroke the wide black and white door-wings in front of him, gradually shifting his touch towards pleasuring his lover into a slow build to an intense overload. "No one else has ever..." he struggled for words before finding his voice. "It would break me to loose you," he barely whispered, absolutely terrified of the truth in those words but forcing himself to say them, to openly acknowledge the truth.

"You won't," Prowl reassured him, his voice trembling for entirely different reasons. "Not any time soon... Primus," he groaned, his optics dimming briefly before he surrendered to the imminent overload.

Strong, knowing fingers dug into the joints of his door-wings, intensifying and prolonging the overload until Prowl cried out wordlessly, his body arching in his ecstasy as electricity ran rampant across his systems.

Gently Noitefel withdrew his fingers, his touch turning tender and soothing once more as he eased his lover down from the high. When Prowl finally gave a contented sigh, he shifted to the side and helped Prowl settle himself so they could recharge while touching and not wake with sore door-wings.

"Thank you," Noitefel whispered with a good night kiss, unconcerned with whether Prowl actually heard him.