So...hiiiii...
I had this little plot bunny skipping through my head the last few days. I discovered the song Zero Trucks by Alana Springsteen, and haven't been able to shake the familiar Peterbilt we all love so dearly from the back of ze brainz. I've habitually been listening to it on repeat, waiting for the moment to birth this sucker into the universe.
SO HERE IT IS. It is tons of FLUFFY for Optimus and my OC from my story Shifting Gears. You don't REALLY have to read that one to understand what's going on here, but I'd LOVE YOU FOREVER if you did. We're having a ball over there, so drop by if you like this. More to come for OP and my OC *wink wink*.
Big thanks for Musical Medli for the kick in the pants to actually get this done, and the future review I just KNOW will be awaiting me tomorrow. Grammar mistakes and typs are on Megatron, I'm too tired to actually care...
Enjoy, like, favorite, and review PLZ. Love ya to Cybertron and back. BYYYYYEZ. xoxox
"Ironhide, I swear to God, if you don't stop, I'll pop you a dent so big in that fender you'll be able to see it from Cybertron!"
The threat may have been a bit more convincing, had she been able to actually muster up the courage to actually pitch the wrench she was wagging at the subject of her reprimand. Instead, she just slowly beat it against her palm, leveling a furrowed brow at the GMC Topkick, which rolled back on its wheels a few inches as a roaring belly laugh erupted through the open windows, echoing across the hangar air.
Very rarely did the Autobot weapons specialist emit such a joyous response to anything she ever said, but apparently he found her mocking threat hilarious. "Oh, what I wouldn't pay to see you even attempt it, fleshy," laughter ebbed from his rough tone as the vehicle slowly rolled back to its former position, her turning sharply on her heel to ignore it. "I know better than to take your empty threats seriously."
She whirled back around, glaring at him with all the seriousness she could muster. Her mind spun, trying to come up with an appropriate retaliation, and her eyes scanned the truck a few moments too long. Finally, she crossed her arms, the wrench dangling loosely in her hand. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling nervous sweat begin to warm her hands. Her eyes danced to the other side of the hangar, before trailing back to the Topkick, listening to him gun the engine over once more as if proving his point.
The wrench weighed in her hand only minutely, and she glanced down at it, then back at the truck. A deliciously wicked idea slipped through her mind, and she tightened her grasp on the wrench, uncrossing her arms to bring them to either side of her. Flicking a curl from her face, she reached for the aviator sunglasses from the top of her head and slowly slipped them into place, blinking to adjust the her contacts to change in light.
Reaching for the end of her braid, she pulled the plastic elastic from the end, and stuck the wrench in the back pocket of her dark-wash jeans. Working the plaits loose, she ran her fingers through her released curls, and twisted her lips into a slow smile, leveling with the Topkick immediately before rocking back on her heels. She pushed herself into a saunter towards the open driver's window, a methodical sway to her hips matching each stomp of her square-toed cowboy boots on the hangar floor.
"Watch it, robot," she came up beside the door, and draped her arms through the open window, slowly lowering to lean against it. Her fingertips grazed the interior leather on the door, and Miri remembered that Ratchet, the Autobot Chief Medical Officer, had equated the leather interior of the vehicles to skin. Each contact her skin made with the leather was the equivalent of human skin-to-skin contact, a thought that never seemed to escape her memories.
She felt the Topkick stiffen as a devious smile parted her lips. She sidled up against the door, pressing into it firmly, before she turned her hand over along the leather of the door's interior. She gently slid the back of her against the armrest, the adornment of rings across her fingers catching the leather in light skips as she did so. She rested the toe of her boot against the floor, twisting it back and forth teasingly.
A low rumble ebbed from the stereo, her eyes's flickering over to it. "M...Miri, what are you -" while his tone attempted to sound firm, she could just barely hear the edge of uneasiness laced between breaths. A light giggle erupted in her throat as her other hand moved to the side mirror, the tip of her acrylic nail finding the midnight plastic with a light tap.
She flashed a cool look to the radio, the corner of her mouth lifting tauntingly. "You sure you wouldn't want me to to at least try and make good on my threat, 'Hide?" Her tone was light and teasing, and she rested her head against the open window frame, staring half-lidded at the stereo. "I would be fun, to say the least," without hesitation, she dragged her nail across the plastic of the mirror, which elicited an uneasy breath from the very frame of the pickup, as well as a crackle from the stereo.
And without warning, she reached behind her and plucked the wrench from her back pocket, before literally flinging it into the back bed of the Topkick. It clattered loudly against the metal of the bed, and it would've sounded painfully damaging to the topcoat if it had been anyone other than the weapon's specialist. The wrench slid to a stop in the bed, but not before the engine flared with a loud rev, smoke erupting from the stacks as Ironhide loud out a roar of agitation.
"I got you so good!" She suddenyl exclaimed, perking up before giving the door a friendly pat with her hand. She wrinkled her nose playfully, and pushed herself from the Topkick, bent over at the waist laughing with every bit of strength she could muster. The GMC was motionless, the engine settling into quiet idle beneath the hood as she lifted her gaze to consider it, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes from laughing so hard. Her ribs began to ache.
The Topkick rolled forward a few inches. "Oh, this is far from over, femme," he ribbed her right back, sounding as irritated as he dared toward the human girl. She stood and shook her head, waving him off as she tried to steady her breathing from uncontrollable giggles. "Just you wait. Your Prime won't always be right by your side, ready to defend your honor," he rolled past her, flashed the taillights, and gave the truck's engines fuel, making it flare with a heavy windup, "And when he isn't, I'll be there, plotting my revenge against you!" His voice drifted into a heavy laugh beneath the truck's engine, before he peeled out of the hangar with a pulse of her tires on the pavement.
She watched the Topkick disappear out the open hangar door, only to find the Peterbilt semi rolling back in, sunlight glinting off the smokestacks as it drifted in from sunlight. It paused for only a minute, as if considering the rumbling Topkick, who hadn't stopped defeatedly murmuring during his retreat. Even across the hangar, she could see one of the semi's side-mirrors angle to watch the truck's retreat, only adjusting back to its usual position when it was satisfied thing were fine.
The semi's compressed brakes released a pop of air, triggering her attention further as it rolled deeper into the hangar, parking itself on the other side from her. Her brow stitched down into a furrow at the unusually great distance, as Optimus Prime rarely ever came back to base without first greeting her. The leader of the Autobots always made it a point to at least acknowledge her, even if he was preoccupied, which was all the time. Especially these days, since their relationship had taken a distinct turn for the better, blossoming into something more than just...friendship.
She was about to make her way over to the truck when she slowed to a stop, watching as the robot's holoform materialized suddenly, pulsing to life in tiny electrified sparks, every bit as reminiscent of a blue glow as she'd ever seen. He seemed to ignore her, instead reaching up to pop the latch on the passenger door, opening it wide for whatever passenger he'd been carrying. It was odd, to say the least, because Prime rarely ever used the holoform outside their private conversations, and she couldn't help the stitch of worry that hit her gut, simmering suddenly like a hot coal.
Watching the figure drop out of the semi, she was surprised to find that it was Mikaela Banes, an old ally of the Autobot cause. She'd been dating Sam Witwicky, the first human to have ever made contact with the Cybertronian Autobot's since their arrival on the planet. She hardly knew either of them, having mostly heard recollections of them from Optimus - she knew he respected both Sam and Mikaela greatly because of their loyalty to the team, and the sacrifices of normalcy that they'd made in the war between the Autobots and their evil counterparts, the Decepticons.
Optimus had nearly laid down his life for Sam Witwicky, she understood - so she gave both the teenagers credit. If Optimus was fond of them and found reason to respect their friendship, she could hold no reservations. She hadn't - that was, until, she saw Mikaela reach up and swipe at her cheeks, presumably at some tears. Instantly she recognized one of the blankets from the Peterbilt cab draped over her shoulders, and she didn't dare miss the look of sympathy on the holoform's face. Her chest was about to tighten in concern that something had happened, until she watched Mikaela Banes wrap her arms around the holoform's neck, reaching up on toes to hug him tightly.
A flare of heat pulsed through her blood, sending a spike of hot jealousy down her spinal column. She froze, watched the holoform embrace the young woman back with all the innocence she knew that Optimus possessed. He didn't understand human interactions, and he certainly was no expert in romantic relations with her kind, because she could barely get him to hold her hand, much less embrace her in a romantic fashion. She was about to calm herself down when Mikaela righted back to her feet, pulled back, said something to the him which made them both smile, and reached up on toes again to plant a soft kiss at the corner of the holoform's mouth.
Her mouth hung slack jawed just for a moment before her jaw set with a tightness she did not remember, a cold blast of envy sending goosebumps across her flesh. "No effing way!" was the only thing she could muster from the back of her throat as she whiled about on her heel, making a mad dash for the closest exit to anywhere that wasn't the hangar containing the Peterbilt.
"Miri!" he called after her, sending something akin to goosebumps bouncing off her spine. She ignored it.
She didn't even see the holoform's stunned reaction before she dashed for the work bay at the back of the hangar, her feet connecting with the hangar's pavement solidly. Her heart was in the back of her throat, threatening to make an appearance with whatever remainder of stomach contents existed in the pit of her gut. All she could see were searing tears of beaded anger pooling in her eyes as she burst through the small door, gasping for breath as she put a hand to the hot stitch that had suddenly appeared in her side.
She swiped at her nose, dismissing the urge to sniffle in a groveling whimper. The work bay was empty - thank the Almighty - and she found herself alone, save the open door she'd currently burst through. Whirling around to march over to it, she rushed forward to slam it closed when the holoform appeared, ready to breach the door the same way she had before. Gripping it with white knuckles, she didn't even register the horrified look on Prime's human face before forcefully slamming the door closed, right in his face.
She fell back against the door, a shaky breath escaping her that was so close to a sob that it angered her. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, holding the knob behind her tightly in both hands, tears freely falling down her face now. She literally felt her heart sink into her ribcage, pain pulsating from it with each pulse of her blood. Never before had she ever physically felt her heartbreaking, but if she ever had, she imagined the pain her chest was the closest thing to it that was humanly possible. Balling her hand into a fist, she pressed it against her mouth, desperately trying to will away the urge to cry.
She closed her eyes, stretched her head back to rest against the door, and swallowed the hard lump that had formulated in the back of her throat. I should've known, was the statement that pierced her thoughts with each hitch of a breath she managed to pull into her chest. She was about to sink to the floor in a defeated, blubbering ball when she heard the electric whine of the work bay's overhead door spur to life, the door lifting with a shrill mechanic moan to her left. Light from the hangar illuminated through the opening door, casting shadows across the bay's floor.
Righting herself and squaring her shoulders, she didn't have to see the Peterbilt roll into the bay to know that it was there - the throaty growl of the engine consumed the atmosphere, taking away her breath for only a moment. Turning her back to the vehicle, she reached up to swipe at her eyes, sniffling as she collected herself, a ball of hot anger suddenly kicking against the walls of abdomen at the audacity of him. Almost immediately after she heard the transmission shift to park, the vehicle broke apart into its transformation, the unmistakable sound overtaking the entire bay.
Refusing to turn around, she marched to back wall, where the familiar toolbox rested undisturbed. It was her toolbox, which had arrived to NEST nearly a year ago from her former home in the Midwestern US. It had been in this spot every sense, frequently welcoming her as she'd dutifully arrived to the base each day to assist her family in working the bay, developing projects for the Autobots using a convergence of their advanced technology and human resources. She'd restructured her father's entire business for this contract, and it had been more than successful the last year - it had been blissful. Not only had they come to know the operation of NEST on an entirely new level, but she had come to develop lasting friendships with not only the soldiers and officers of the unit, but also the subject of its exist - the Autobots.
She'd been taken with Prime from the beginning, not just simply because of his outrageously attractive alternation form. The semi, she'd come to notice, was an added bonus to her relationship with Optimus Prime - the real thrill was knowing every part of him she could, since having accepted the offer to work more closely with the Autobots than just simply project development and outsourcing. NEST - or rather, Optimus - had requested that she be more involved in a strictly administrative capacity, citing the need for his team to adhere more to Earth's bureaucratic policies due to the nature of their relationship with the US military. He had chosen her, in part for his own reasons, though mainly due to the fact that the Autobots respected her, and they shared a camaraderie not easily dismissed.
Her working with Optimus the past eight months had prompted a reciprocation that neither of them fully understood, though neither were fully opposed to. While she understood her feelings were beyond platonic, she wasn't entirely sure if Optimus understood humanity's understanding of love. He'd told her more than once that Cybertronian courting was an entirely different thing altogether, relying on the similarity of comparative data more than emotion. He still was discovering his capacity to actually feel, something she found remarkably endearing about him. Everything was new and innocent and uncharted with the Prime - everything was thrilling. She began the day aching to be at his side, and concluded it wishing she'd never have left.
And it was stupid. Stupid.
A warmth she didn't anticipate pulled her from her revelry, and she realized that Prime was behind her, the warmth of his breath light against her skin, which seemed to ache. Her eyes fell closed as she gripped the edge of the toolbox, unwilling to trust herself to turn and face him. Her attention moved to her hand when it suddenly began to shake, her white-knuckled grip on the equipment tighter than she anticipated. It wouldn't ever match the tight knot that formed in the empty cavity of her chest, no matter how hard she held to the solid surface.
"Miri, what is wrong?" His tone was soft, almost pleading. "Talk to me. Please."
She couldn't imagine Prime actually begging, no matter how appealing the mental image conjured in her brain seemed. Despite the bitter scene she had witnessed, he was still Optimus, a mech she respected beyond words. She blinked back another set of hazy tears brewing in her eyes, looked to her white-knuckled grip on the toolbox, and released it slowly, finger by finger, trying to muster the courage to turn around.
He wants to talk, does he? Oh, honey, let's talk. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin, and whirled around to face him on the heel of her boot, her heart rising to tangle with her lungs in her chest. She opened her eyes to find him as near to her face as she'd ever seen him. For a moment she forgot to breathe, which triggered a panic response in her brain, opting her to take a half step back.
He'd taken a knee, leaning down as far forward as he could to be eye-to-optic level with her. The icy cobalt of is eyes illuminated the shadows of the work bay, casting a blue hue across her face that she so often remembered. Optimus was fully engaged with her, his optics roaming the features of her face in a considering way, as if he were trying his best to see past her outer borders and within her soul. Very quickly her courage dove down into her feet, seemingly into the abyss of the earth, until her eyes flickered down his facial plating to his lips, and a vision of Michaela and the holoform skipped into her face.
Anger flared her blood once again, plunging courage down her spine into the pit of her core. Her brows knitted into a hot furrow and she scowled at him, her eyes narrowing. For a moment - only a moment - she saw surprise float across his face, snatching away the rock-solid confidence Optimus Prime always carried. Instead he looked genuinely startled at her change in demeanor as her chest puffed up with ire, her mind forcibly propelling one foot forward to step into even closer space with his gaze.
She stared up into his eyes. "Oh, you'd like me talk, would you?" Her tone pitched up an octave as her eyes connected with his optics. He didn't flinch, didn't breathe, didn't move. He was as unmoving as the Earth, his gaze never falling from her face. "Trust me, Optimus Prime, you have yet to actually hear me talk. If you had, I highly doubt you'd be begging me to open my mouth!"
He shuttered his optics, a look of confusion on her face. "I do not understand," his voice drifted over her, startling the resolve that had straightened her spine. For a moment she pitied his lack of comprehension. It lasted half a moment, because he comprehended enough to allow Michaela such a liberty as kissing him - he hadn't so much as taken a step back or pushed the girl away, much less resisted her advance. "You're upset, Miriana - tell me why."
Oh please don't use my name, the moaning plead struck her brain as if she'd been given a lobotomy. Not when I'm mad at you. She steeled her resolve, swallowing the girlish heat that dusted across her cheeks very suddenly.
Her brow popped to attention - very rarely had she seen a male - even a robotic one - consent to be completely annihilated by female complaint. Truly, Prime was a good soul, throwing himself straight in front of her freight train of heartbreak and emotion that was sure to trample any understanding he may have possessed. It didn't matter, however - she was hurt, and angry, and truly the last thing she wanted was for him to be staring down at her with those optics. Lord, they did things to the hollow of her stomach - things that made her knees weak.
She clenched her hands into fists at her side, frowning at him again as her eyes scanned the beautiful, metal planes of his face. Many times she had admired Optimus and his stature, never just having been satisfied with the Peterbilt semi after knowing his full presence. She'd never seen such a beautiful creature, and for a moment her tongue went suddenly dry, a feeling she despised due to its association with female stupid disease - which was a near constant plague of hers when Prime was around. Running her tongue against the inside of her mouth, she tried to strike moisture in her mouth, but found she was unable to to fully do so.
Needing to retaliate and make a point, she stepped fully up to his face and grabbed the vents on either side, her fingers digging into the metal, nails raking across it as they slid home. They were cool and solid, though kinetic, seemingly alive beneath her touch. Bolts of electricity raced up her arms into her brain, gooseflesh scattering down her spine to her legs - she never tired of touching him.
The stunned look on his face was enough to make her realize that she'd been holding her breath, staring into his optics longer than she'd intended. Looking away, she released his face roughly, moving away to walk past him, unable to fully formulate her attack against him while under his studious gaze. She heard him adjust, felt the air shift at his movements, and stopped beside her father' workbench, which was littered with parts.
"I'm not doing this with you, Optimus," was her quiet reply, her attention falling to a blueprint, which had been taped to the table. She lifted a hand and began to trace the schematic, thankful for something to do with her hands, which had started to tremble. A slow exhale spurred more tears behind her eyes as she studied the movement of her finger, lost in the design for only a moment, vague aware of him standing over her. "I can't...I can't do this."
"Do what?" Was his simple reply, sounding lost. "Miri, I do not understand what's come over you. This isn't like you...this isn't you," the statement hung in the air between them, wholly unfinished, but finalized enough to have formative meaning. She could feel his piercing gaze burning a hole between her shoulders, and she tipped her head to the side as she watched the blueprint, uncertain where to steer the conversation.
Finally, her finger stopped and she closed her eyes. "Michaela," was her quiet response, her hand laying flat over the blueprint now. "She...she kissed - it doesn't matter," she turned, leaned against the workbench, and shot a look up to him. "Listen, Optimus - I'm not going to play games with you. I've spent too much of my life spinning my tires and chasing after the wrong guy in the wrong truck," she knew he understood the metaphor, because he didn't move, or make any expression other than the serious he was currently offering. "I'm not going to chase you, Prime. Not you, not the truck, not - this." She gestured between them, her voice growing small. "I...I ca...can't. I can't."
After a brief repast, he lowered to take a knee once more, his face inches within hers. She could almost feel the warmth of his optics on her skin; could practically taste the steel of his mouth so close to her own. Her senses became so overwhelmed with his familiar scent of Energon, sparks, and diesel that it made stars materialize in front of her, her fingertips burning in remembrance of the feel of her skin on his face. The rumble in his chest was enough to steal her breath away.
And then, very suddenly, his expression changed - it softened, as if he'd been repentant of an infraction she'd thrown up into his face. The expression could very closely resemble adoration, and she felt very small when his gaze fell down her form, considering the full stature of her body before him. His eyes flickered back up to her, and carefully, he lifted his massive hand between them, outstretching a gentle finger to rest beneath her chin.
Applying the most minuscule amount of pressure the digit could offer, he tipped her head back, her eyes immediately finding his optics. "Well then," there was trace evidence of a chortle in his voice, his optics sparkling with disbelief. "There's the issue. You're always so clear, Miriana." A smile pulled at the corner of his absolutely stunning mouth. "It is one of the things I so admire about you."
She batted his massive finger away as if it hadn't even materialized. "Don't flatter me, Optimus," she frowned at him. "I'm serious. Michaela kissed the holoform, and you let it happen." She gestured between them again with a waving hand, Prime slowly withdrawing his hand back to his side. "Am I just daft, or did I simply imagine that there was something going on between us? Please, correct me if I'm wrong." She put her hands on her hips, stepping toward him again.
He suppressed a chuckle, though the rumble in his chest gave it away fully. "I suppose I should, otherwise I may never get the chance again," was the smarm. The audacity of his tease slapped her in the face, because she stopped cold, her brows popping to attention over her eyes. She almost had the lapse of judgement to stare slack jawed at him, though she felt tension in the back of her jaw solidly cement her mouth closed.
"Optimus, I'm serious -" He put up a hand, cutting off her statement.
The planes of his face narrowed a look at her, studying her response. "It was a gesture, Miriana," he said, his tone pointed in a soft reprimand that made her statement skip to a screeching halt on her tongue. "Michaela thanked me for bringiyng her to base. She and Sam had a misunderstanding, and she was upset. She asked to speak with me for advice, and I was more than happy to help her."
Oh no. Panic touched down in the corner of her brain like a spaceship making contact with a far off world. I am such an idiot. Beyond an idiot. Triple idiot. She closed her eyes, feeling a painful blush erupt across her nose, her pride wounded beyond resuscitation - it would need a Lazarus resurrection at this point, because she was as hollow as an empty grave.
He then lowered his face down into hers, the plating of his nose nearly brushing her top lip. The breath of his words made her eyes snap open in surprise. "The kiss she gave me was platonic, Miri - it meant nothing more than her show of thanks." His smile was slight. "I could never deny what is between us, Miri," his gaze skipped over her again. "Nor would I ever desire to."
Never before had her mouth felt so dry, and her pride so small. Quickly she swallowed her statement, her anger hardening like a rock in her chest. Her mind spun for a brief beats, her reason lost completely in the depths of his optics as her senses were overcome with his familiar scent. Something rolled in her stomach, and she very suddenly had the feeling that the Earth could, at any moment, open up and swallow her whole - and she'd be alright with that. Anywhere was better than being here, beneath his scrupulous gaze that seemed to rip the flesh from her very soul.
Her mouth formed into a silent "o". "So..."she said quietly, blinking once at him. She reached up and batted a curl from her face, thankful her hand had something to do other than tremble. "...I overreacted?" It came out as a squeaking question, her pride entirely whipped into submission. A sinking feeling returned to the core of her gut, and she rolled her bottom lip inward, biting on it lightly.
The smile that formed on his mouth was deliciously slow. "Inescapably." He leveled a cool look at her. "Though I'm sure Michaela will forgive your ignorance, as I do."
At that absolute smarm her eyes popped open widely, surprise socking her in the stomach so much that her breath floated away from her body. She was desperately fumbling for a response, trying not to laugh at his wit, but it was incredibly difficult. Instead, she put her hands behind her against the bench, her palms sliding over the surface of the table, until it collided with the first object she was able the grasp fully in her hand - and literally fling - into the Prime's face.
His face snapped into a look of surprise, jerking back at the ammunition that had been flung at him - a pencil. Tiny as it was, it provided just enough of a distraction for her to slip away from the bench, a snort escaping her as she clapped a hand over her mouth after full realization as to what she'd done connected in her brain. Optimus turned to consider her, his massive frame still lowered, his optic ridges raised to their full height as he watched her retreat.
Lifting her chin, she stopped and crossed her arms in front of her, cocking a hip. "Ignorant, huh?" She raised a brow at him, gesturing with hand to his current form. "Well, this ignorant human just totally attacked you with a writing utensil. Take that as my apology." Biting the inside of her cheek, she watched him stand, staring down at her from his full height, optics still glowing in the shadows of the unlit bay.
She turned on her heel again, her intention to leave the bay evident as she threw back her shoulders. "I'm going home now," she said over her shoulder. "I'll ask Sideswipe to take me. My pride is too wounded to fathom enduring the ride with you." While the barb was hardly serious, she regretted it coming off her tongue instantly, pausing to glance over her shoulder.
Much to her surprise he said nothing in return, instead transformed down into the Peterbilt. After a mesmerizing few moments of watching his alternation form materialize, the truck was before her, idling quietly in the darkness of the work bay. She turned to face the truck immediately, suddenly glad that his bipedal form wasn't staring at her, though she knew full well that Prime was watching every movement from the truck - with great intent, as he usually did.
The door to the cab popped open softly, the window rolled down. The radio flickered to life with a quiet rumble, the cab illuminated by the lights of the vehicle's dashboard. "Belay that order, Commander," his tone was light and teasing, prompting a smile from her as she approached the awaiting semi. "Allow me the honor of taking you home, Miri. I wouldn't have it another way."
She stopped before the grille of the massive Peterbilt, looking up at the emblem of the Autobots displayed so proudly, front and center. She reached up and rested her palm against it, lowering her eyes back to the front sectioning of the grille. Lifting her other hand, she gently used a finger to trace down the smooth steel partitions, which were warm to the touch thanks to the heat of the mechanical engine within. A soft smile formed on her lips, her chest warming with familiar endorphins that always came when put hands on him.
Without thinking, she opened her mouth. "...you think there's something between us, Prime?" It was a small statement, spoken with quiet intimacy which stirred in her chest. She looked back up to the emblem, curling her fingers so her nails fell into the embossing of the symbol. Heat sparked within her chest and melted through her entire body, loosening whatever tension she'd built in her shoulders.
Pressing closer to the grille, she was merely inches from it when two hands suddenly were placed over her own, lowering the one from the emblem to rest against the grille fully. The warmth of his breathe against her cheek told her that not only was Optimus close behind her, but he was leaning over her shoulder, so close that she could practically feel the thrum of his spark against her spine. She bristled, her skin ghosting with cold goosebumps, uncertain if she should move or simply remain still.
He was overwhelmingly close, and she closed her eyes, hoping the throb of her heart was contained well enough against her ribcage. Her lungs constricted and again all moisture sapped from her mouth, despite her best attempts to slick her lower lip with her tongue. Instead she just ran her tongue along the front of her teeth, her mind reeling with just how warm he felt against her back, and how absolutely seductive it felt to be pressed so close to the Peterbilt. She wasn't an inherently vulgor person, though her mind was skipping with a thousand sensations, a searing heat pooling in the pit of her gut unlike anything she'd ever felt.
With one hand the holoform interlaced their fingers. The other he used to tenderly reach up and move aside the curls over her ear, just enough so that he could lower his mouth to the cartilage, the stubble of the holoform's face brushing delectably against her skin. Her courage shattered then and there, and she almost felt her heart drop into her abdominal wall, though she was fairly certain all she could feel was his breath curling against her face, and the tight ball of energy swimming at the base of her spine.
The growl in his chest was masculine, and low. "I do not just think, Miriana," he said slowly, his lips brushing against the soft flesh of her temple. She could feel the smile form on his lips as they brushed against her ear again. "I know." He tugged gently at her hair, signaling her to concede.
Absentmindedly, her head tipped to the side and back, coming to rest against his chest as he dared to press closer against her, her chest now brushed up much too closely to the Peterbilt's front. She felt all the strength she had melt into her feet, her knees beginning to weaken as her spine almost visibly left her body. She closed her eyes, released a slow exhale, and relaxed against his chest. Her breathing became uneven when his mouth didn't lift from her ear, Optimus instead lowering his head to brush his lips against her collarbone, her breathe more than warm and invitational.
"Optimus," her voice was weak, her resolve deflating quickly, taking with it her coherency. "How are you..." She hadn't realized she was shaking until he released her hand, his larger one tenderly coming to rest on her shoulder, holding her steadily as if she were to break. She couldn't move, couldn't think, didn't dare say anything more as the pad of his thumb gently traced circles into her shoulder blade, releasing a bolt of tension down her spinal column.
Gently, his lips dusted the skin of her shoulder, which he'd exposed with a light brushing aside of her shirt's collar. All she could feel was the vibration of the Peterbilt's engine throughout every nerve of her body, her mental faculties collapsing like dominos within her skull cavity. She would be lucky if she would've been cognizant of her own name, much less able to reciprocate any kind of affection - she'd never been touched like this, by any many, much less Optimus Prime, a Cybertronian robot leader of an elite alien race.
Her answer came in the form of a chuckle against her skin. "Internet," was all he said, the words dancing over her skin. Another set of bumps raced across her arms, raising a heat to her skin that was not at all unwelcome. Moisture began to collect on her palms, and she let her head drop to consider the floor when he pressed up behind her, the full curve of her body against his.
She gaped at the pavement, uncertain of how to respond. Bless the internet, was the only thing circling through her mind as she considered her feet, curling and uncurling her toes within her cowboy boots. Rapid fire emotions raced up her spine, sounding off against her brain, reminding her of where she was and what she was feeling, and how absolutely perfect it was - until he grabbed both of her shoulders and spun her a complete 180, her shoulders connecting with the front of the Peterbilt solidly.
He considered her with glowing eyes, the feature of his face slick with perspiration, a dusting of blue sprinkled across his face. Very suddenly she realized that he was beyond out of his element; this was new territory for not only him, but the pair of them together. While she'd never been touched so intentionally before by a man, she quite suddenly realized that Optimus Prime had never probably touched a human in such a way, the concept merely data provided for an internet search.
He was breathing erratically, his chest rising and falling as he looked into her face. She swallowed a dry breath, the rise of her throat bobbing slightly at the action, her eyes unwilling to break away from him. She quickly realized she was sweating when a bead of perspiration breached her eyelashes, dripping into her eye with the stinging presence of salt. Biting at her lower lip, she lifted a hand to put on his arm, which had her effectively boxed into his frame, with no form of exit anywhere in sight.
He spoke first. "Do you remember the night we washed dinnerware in your quarters?" The tone and finality of his question struck her like a rock between the eyes, making her blink as the memory materialized in the back of her brain. She could hardly forget that night - she'd cut her hand on a broken dish after tripping over the rug, the holoform mending the injury with a gentle kiss. It had plagued her dreams for weeks, sending lightning bolts of kinetic energy through her nerves - she wouldn't be able to scratch the memory from the dredges of her mind, even if her soul depended on it.
She nodded once. "I...I haven't been able to forget," was her quiet response. "Optimus, I cared for you, even then, but -"
Something passed through his eyes, a mixture of relief and...pleasure. The holoform's eyes seemed to darken as he took in her reply, perhaps remembering the events that had unfolded that night before her kitchen counter. He seemed to be looking for depth from her, because his eyes scanned every movement of her own, as if he were waiting for something to happen, but unsure of how to invoke the action himself.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but didn't get the chance - with a speed born from the heat of battle, he took her face within his hands, his eyes desperately searching the planes of her face for something. She reached up her hands to grasp his wrists, encouraging him to see the action through, though it suddenly hit her that he probably didn't understand - or know - actually what he was supposed to do. Her eyes fluttered closed when the pads of his thumbs gently brushed the apple of her cheeks, the roughness of them cool against her skin, like his actual form usually was.
"I care for you, Miri," his tone was low and he lowered his face, his breath falling over her in an intoxicating wave that left her lightheaded. "Deeper than I have ever cared for anything in this life. I...I don't know why, or how it has happened, but - mmfph!"
Coherency all but a memory, she gripped his face in her hands and lifted on her toes to crash her mouth against his, unable to contain the explosion of heat that plummeted her stomach. His words had stirred heat throughout her blood, stifling her thoughts so much that all she could taste was the thought of him. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about what his mouth would feel like on her own, and she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from kissing him if the it had been a requirement of the world's continuance.
It took a matter of seconds for him to understand, though the tension in his frame was enough to tell her this was well beyond his element, something he didn't understand or know or felt. Something deep within the framework of the Peterbilt quivered, just enough to send a jolt of movement down her spine, reminding her that the actual him was there, experiencing this with her, discovering what it actually meant. She wasn't breathing, instead just holding his face within her hands, keeping herself grounded as she plucked up the courage to deepen their kiss.
Finally registering, he lowered his hands to her waist, holding her gently as a wave of heated tension passed out of his body, his frame relaxing against her as his understanding deepened. She slowly worked her mouth over his, applying pressure to their kiss, and released a soft moan when he finally gripped her waist a little harder, the fingers of holoform burying into flesh of her hips. She could feel the thrum of his spark against her sternum, and would've happily stayed there forever, though her need for air forced them apart, her gasping for breath between them.
"What," he was searching for words, his brow furrowed in confusion, "was that?" The holoform reached up to finger the end of her curls, seemingly enchanted with how they seemed to pass through his finger with each stroke he gave them. While his breathing was even, due to the fact that the holoform did not require air, her breath was still catching up with her, a smile slowly falling onto her mouth.
She leaned forward to look up into his face, her eyes sliding to a half-mast that made the holoform's own eyes widen in surprise. Gently she snaked her arms around his waist, pulling him forward to conjoin their bodies at the waist, the battering of her heart coming to a rest against his chest. The corner of her mouth lifted with an upturned smile, and she wrinkled her nose at him teasingly.
"That," she said in a low whisper, "is the first of many things you have yet to learn, Autobot." Breaking out of his embrace, she reached for his hand, backpedaling slowly towards the open door of the Peterbilt. He followed her lazily, like a little lost puppy, his face all the evidence she needed to know that he had not understood her statement, and was still working through what had actually transpired between them.
She edged him forward with a wink, before turning to haul herself into the truck's cabin.