HOLY MOTHER OF MEGATRON, 7,000 WORDS!?
This is for Musical Medli, who challenged me to step out of my comfort zone with an angsty/lovey/kiss-and-make-up Optimus that I am 100% out of practice and uncomfortable writing. I am 10000000% NOT an angst writer, so my apologies if you read this aren't go "pfffft, what is she talking about"? Blame her for this HARD challenge.
ANYWAY, there's some cute fluff in here between OP and my OC, Miri Otten, from my story Shifting Gears and a few other oneshots, Doing Dishes and Zero Trucks. Check those out if you so desire.
Sorry for the errors, let's blame those on Megatron. I'm tired and am off to bed. byyyyye. xoxoxo
It was a rarity to find the main NEST hangar void of life, the absence of activity rendering the space to all but a tomb of silence. At such an hour it was hardly a surprise, given that humanity kept to specific sleeping hours, though oftentimes he found at least a few officials milling around seeing to after-hours tasks. As was the way of things in a military setting; not so indifferent than he days overseeing ranks on his own world.
As much as he enjoyed humanity, he preferred the main hangar empty for his night walks - then, he was left alone with his own musings and quiet thoughts; the only time he fully was able to embrace solace.
He was half expecting the darkened hangar to be vacant, as he preferred, though he was mildly surprised to find the catwalk in the middle of the hangar illuminated by flood lights plugged into an cord which dangled in midair from the lift's railing, the two devices beaming hot light to the floor. While platform's computers were darkened with lack of use, he noticed immediately that the disturbance to the night's quiet hadn't been for a military affair, though instead a personal one - she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back pressed against the railing, plucking away at the miniature computer on her lap, which she affectionately labeled the MacBook.
There was a wave of relief that hit him as his attention fell to her hair, which had been released from its usual knot, now free to fall about her shoulders in a natural way that never ceased to send heat into his sparkchamber. Even without natural sunlight, the lighter parts of her brunette curls were vibrantly noticeable, though Optimus Prime wasn't certain if that was his own biased observation or not - these days, he found himself noticing small things about the woman. Whether he was actively looking for them or not was beside the point.
She seemed to notice him approach because she paused and lifted her head from its tucked position, then scooted to turn and acknowledge his arrival. Immediately he noticed her posture relax, a smile turning up the corner of her mouth pleasantly. She closed the screen of her MacBook, set it off to the side, and turned to fully face his entrance, still cross-legged as she draped her arms over the railing's lowest bar.
"Hey there stranger," she greeted brightly, offering a small wave to him. "I didn't wake you from stasis, right?" She looked over her shoulder to the clock, which hung on the far wall directly at center base, displaying the scarlet digital letters appropriate to their time zone. It was early morning, a little after one, and she seemed to know it, releasing a large yawn before stretching her arms over her head.
He came to a stop before the platform, shaking his head no to her question. "No, I've been awake," his tone lowered to a quiet murmur as he watched her begin tying her hair into a low braid over her shoulder. "Though I am surprised to find you still working, Miri. I thought you enjoyed as much stasis as possible?" His mind flashed back to the countless times he had heard her allude to humanity's resting process, which they called sleep, and how she had never seemed able to attain enough of it.
She beamed at him, a light snort causing her to raise a hand to her mouth. Optimus loved watching her eyes brighten with pleasant enthusiasm every time she laughed, which was quiet frequently - ever since her arrival to base some time ago, she'd been nothing but a pleasant addition to the ranks.
While still naïve and unskilled in military affairs, her mind was bright when it came to learning, and she was a quick study regarding appropriations to their cause. Prime had enjoyed seeing her blossom before their very eyes into a trusted and effective liaison within the last year, all things considered.
Quickly, Miri had gained their respect unlike many humans had, though on different terms. Whereas NEST officers and soldiers shared blood on the battlefield, Miri Otten had shared her heart and her soul with the Autobots, treating them as equals when others had seen in them aliens. Drawn to their differences, she'd been one step in the right direction of uniting their worlds - doing what Sam Witwicky, their first human ally, hadn't been able to. For the last year she'd changed life at NEST, and life on base had changed her - all for the better.
Not ever for the worst, he surmised as his gaze found her hands working through her hair, never for the worst.
The Autobot leader studied each feature of her face as she shared his gaze, her eyes so alive after working through her hair. Never before had he seen eyes so enchanting - so different. They held a depth in which he found himself oftentimes lost, attempting to scour parts of her not so easily known. He'd seen in her a great capacity to love, and to grow - both of which she had offered him as a confidante, friend, and professional.
Though, Optimus couldn't deny the fact that they'd shared closeness not mirrored in any other relationships on base - their working relationship had evolved past the former adjective...into something closer. Often he found himself thinking of her, missing her presence - of daydreaming. Whenever she wasn't near, he found himself looking for her; watching her carefully as she moved about her duties swiftly. Optimus genuinely looked forward to speaking with her on any matter, be it business or pleasure, and didn't tire of her questions or her banter, or even her mistakes.
His spark would often flare with heat when she was nearby, something he didn't recall before. He didn't mind, though her distractions were not an efficient way to spend his time. He was Prime, a leader of his people's duties on Earth. While his schedule did not need the distraction of a human femme, he found himself looking for ways to break from task and indulge her.
"...Optimus?" Her tone was questioning, albeit a little louder as she snapped her finers, signaling his attention. "Earth to Optimus? Still with me?"
He filtered back into the present, his attention fully given to her. "I apologize," he said a bit swifter than he would've preferred, "My thoughts weren't here."
She nodded, flattening her lips together, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Yeah, I noticed. You were off on Cybertron somewhere," her hand flitted through the air as she leaned forward, bringing them both down to rest along the platform's railing. Tipping her head to the side she planted it on her arms, now staring at him sideways. "I wish you would've taken me with you," was the finishing giggle.
He chuckled, gently lifting his hands to rest on the steel of the platform's railing, beside her. It was odd seeing the entirety of her form compared to the presence of his hands, so different but eerily appropriate. Many times Optimus had carried her about the hangar in his palm, her chattering away either about work or pleasure, it hadn't mattered. She weighed nothing in his hand, almost as if she didn't exist - a thought that almost startled him. They were so vastly different, but two different ends of the same whole.
Looking to his hand, she slid hers across the rail to touch her palm against his hand, her attention breaking from his face. She gently ran the back of her hand against his thumb, the assortment of jewelry on her hands lightly skipping across the metallic plating, her fingers slipping between his digits to more sensitive receptors. A bolt of heat raced into his sparkchamber, sending a pleasant pulse down his frame. Had he possessed a spine able to be weakened by female foibles, he was certain his would collapse as she filtered her gaze back to him, looking lovely despite her exhausted appearance.
"I'm glad you're here," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I...I wanted to talk to you about that invitation I received from the Secretary of Defense."
He felt his shoulders stiffen even at the quiet mentioning of the topic. Not nearly ten days ago, she'd been asked to participate in an intensive training program for liaisons and other military administrative officers, on how to maintain confidential information under duress. Designed for the rare case an administrative professional within the ranks should be held for information by terroristic opportunistic or other threatening entities, the program would prefer participants for physical repercussions along the lines of torture, exhaustion, and survival tactics. It was rigorous, intensive, and dangerous, designed for military operatives.
Miri was neither an operative nor a soldier. She was a government contractor, a civilian. The people of his Cybertron had been pulled into a war, intended for their freedom and safety, and hundreds of thousands had lost their lives because of it. No amount of training could prepare one without a soldier's heart for battle, and Miriana Otten did not have one bone in her body set for warfare - she was witty, intelligent, stubborn, and sometimes juvenile, but she was never violent. He was convinced that within her pulsed a heart of gold, and the lifeblood of innocence.
The corners of his mouth pulled down into a stern frown. "We've already discussed this, Miri. I told you where I was on the matter, and my opinion has not changed."
She sat up, her hands dropping from the railing to her lap. Immediately her brows stitched into a confused knot, her smile all but forgotten under the presence of a thin-lipped line. "I see. And your say is the final one, is it? I don't have any voice to the development of my own professional skillset?" She reached for her laptop, and drummed her nails against it, staring at him hard.
Her tone was on edge, which spurred a rumble in his sparkchamber. "My decision is final. While the training is effective, it is for military operatives, and is not designed for civilian participation. General Morshower already discussed the specifics of the program with me at length, and it is unequivocally too dangerous for someone not trained in warfare." Her brow rose to attention at his response, and he gently gripped the railing tighter, leaning in to her face a bit closer. "You'll be harmed, Miri. The answer is no."
For a moment she didn't offer a response, instead she hauled herself to her feet, using the railing to pull herself into a stance. Frowning at him again, she took a militant stance, crossing her arms in front of her as her hip cocked just enough to be authoritative. Her brow rose again, her piercing sapphire eyes leveling with his own optics, which studied her change of demeanor carefully.
She'd been dressed professionally for an afternoon of presentations and debriefings, and he'd recalled that she'd looked breathtaking in a white suit and heels, her face made up as it always was when she presented before top brass. As beautiful as she was in her business attire, Optimus couldn't help but relish in seeing her like this, in her normal and preferred state. Simple black leggings, a threadbare t-shirt that only rested on one shoulder, and a much-too-large denim over shirt draped across her frame was how he often envisioned her, complete with cowboy-booted feet and an odd mixture of jewelry he didn't understand. Even in her angered stance, she was the epitome of loveliness - Optimus had seen constellations less stirring.
The bottom of her lip rolled inward for just a moment. "Well," she started with a smart tone, "I've already told him I'd be delighted to attend." Optimus, for a moment, didn't feel the disbelief that hit his sparkchamber - he merely heard his own frame stiffen. "I'm to arrive for transport in two days." She flashed two fingers at him, her expression melding into a superior smirk.
He frowned at her, his anger flipping in his chest. Very rarely had he ever experienced insubordination within his ranks, and he certainly had never expected it from Miri, someone he harbored feelings for that could not be paralleled. Though they'd never truly defined their working relationship, words were not needed to discern how either of them felt towards the other - Prime knew she cared for him deeply, as he did for her. But such dismissal - such disregard for his concerns - brought him to a plain of emotion he wasn't entirely certain how to navigate.
A growl escaped him, and her expression changed. She went from stalwart confidence, to a plummeting sobriety that surprised him to the point his optic ridges lifted. Miri was not usually one to capitulate a cause or stance quickly; he'd witnessed her go toe-to-toe with her family over issues of which she held convictions. She'd gone so far as to question the authority of superior officers in the ranks, though he'd never known her to blatantly disobey them.
It just goes to show you, Prime, that there is far more to her than meets the eye, was a thought he found himself thinking more and more. Though this time, it isn't for the better, tragically.
"I see," came his comment, cutting the distance between them sharply. "Then it appears we have nothing more to discuss." Pinning her with a severe look, he released his tightened grip on the railing at either side of her form, relieved to find they hadn't twisted within his grasp. Stepping back from the platform, he scanned her frame once more before turning from her.
His hands folded into fists as her words circled through his mind, spinning wildly. For a moment Optimus wasn't entirely certain the moment had been real, because Miri had rarely ever disagreed with him, much less blatantly disregarded his decisions. As an administrative professional working closely with the Autobots, they were almost continually in contact, if not on the metaphorical track - Miri didn't need catching up, and he rarely required clarification. Usually always at the same level, he'd never known her to deceive or manipulate a given situation as she had, just now. It did something to his sparkchamber he wasn't entirely certain of, thought he was more than certain he was angry.
While he would never harm her, Optimus Prime had no time for deception or insubordinate. He'd dedicated years to of his lifecycle to leading armies and Cybertronians, which required understanding and respect. He had not slain so many - sacrificed his world - to start standing in the face of disobedience. Especially if it came from someone so close, so important to him. Her gasp of surprise at his dismissal pierced something into his spark that was painful and foreign, though he dismissed it to the best of his ability.
Her disregard for him, and for herself stung like a bitter poison. "Well, good Lord, Optimus!" she called out, him pausing to hear her boots heavily fall against the platform's stairs. The soft ticking of her footwear against the concrete floor was enough to make him stop, though he didn't turn to face her. "At least discuss this with me! Give me a chance to explain my reasoning before pouting about it, for Pete's sake!"
He felt the plating of his jaw tighten, and looked down to see her facing him, laptop pressed against her chest as her arms wrapped over it. Her legs were braced a shoulders width apart as she stared up at him, though her expression had changed from smug to apologetic - he could see his dismissal of her had stirred her, though she wasn't entirely at the point of repentance. He wasn't to the point of forgiving, however.
He narrowed his gaze to her, before lowering to take a knee. She was merely inches from him now, closer than she had been on the platform - he could feel every one of her respirations against his face, and he could see every detail of her face so near to his own. For a moment, he wondered if he could feel her heartbeat at such a distance, though he dismissed the desire, instead raising an optic ridge at her curiously.
"What is there to discuss?" He demanded sharply, causing her to take a half step back. "You've made your decision despite my concern, and you've blatantly disregarded every piece of wisdom I could offer you in this. What more would you like to discuss, Miriana?" As soon as the full spite of the comment fell from his mouth he regretted it, the look on her face enough to quell his disappointment.
After looking surprised and startled, her brow lowered into a glower that was so unfamiliar on his face, it startled him mildly. "Frag, Optimus! If you'd just let me present my reasons! I want to do this because I care!" She gestured wildly with a hand, her face blossoming a red hue of heat that fanned down her neck. "Did you forget I was tagged on the frickin' email you exchanged with Morshower?! I'm carbon copied on everything, for Pit sake."
His expression didn't ease. "You were making a point," he inserted coldly, reminding her of her own tangent.
She pushed up the glasses on her face with an aggressive finger, doing so with far too much force that it made her flinch and hiss beneath her breath. "I was saying," Miri stepped into intimate space with him, her finger pointed at him objectively. "I know the training is dangerous, and I know I'm not a soldier. But, I also know that because I am not those things, I am a weak link." The words hung there, presumably for impact. "If something were to happen to me, I don't know that I can keep the information of the Autobots safe. I don't know that I wouldn't crack under pressure, especially if I haven't at least tried to be prepared. This...this is the only way I know to keep NEST - to keep you and the Autobots - safe from me."
At the admittance, her gaze fell to the floor, and her posture folded downward, holding the computer tightly against her chest with her shoulders downcast. Immediately Optimus understood her argument, but he didn't fully admit to understanding her concern - was so so uncertain of herself that it had caused her distress? The defeated posture before him only confirmed the suspicion, especially when she wouldn't look up to him, only to the side.
"I...I can't be the one responsible for something happening to any of you," her tone dropped into a dangerously quiet murmur. "I couldn't live with myself. I need this, Prime," she sheepishly looked back up to him, another hue of scarlet dusting her nose. "And...I'm scared."
Much to his surprise, another bolt of anger shot through his frame, pulling his features into a more severe furrow. "Afraid? What do you have to fear, Miri?" He lifted a hand, gesturing to the walls of the base. "You are as protected as I can make you, Miriana," his tone was heavy, though he kept the unsavory bite from his tone as she locked gazes with him. "What more do you require of me than I have not already given you?"
It was a genuine question, one that stung even in his own spark as he said it. He saw the moment his words registered with her, because her brow knit together in a frown that sent a deep wrinkle across her forehead, her eyes filling with a lingering darkness of hurt that startled him. For a moment he wasn't entirely certain of how she'd react, though he didn't expect her to come so close, her nose mere inches from his upper lip.
Optimus saw her jaw visibly set. "I want you to tell me that you understand," she said sternly, a rumble rising up her throat. "And I want you to tell me that I'll be fine. You don't have to like it, or want it, or approve - but I want this to be okay." With a burst of reflexive speed he'd never witnessed from her, her hand shot out to rest a palm against the plating of his face, her fingertips gently brushing across the venting at either side of his helmet.
He glanced away from her. "I cannot do either," he retorted coldly. "I do not know that you'll be safe, Miri. I do not like this, and I do not desire it for you. I don't even understand -" he stopped suddenly when she took a half step closer, her breath gently falling across his upper lip, stirring an awareness in his spark that he had never felt before. He suddenly couldn't stop watching the movement of her chest, or the fullness of her mouth, even if it had been required of him to live.
Those sapphire flare of her eyes faded as her lids dropped slightly, her gaze falling to his own mouth as her fingers gently moved to brush over it, tenderly. Her fingertips were so alive with warmth that his spark leapt, stirring strangely in the cavity of his chest. The mechanical workings of the Peterbilt spun, his cooling systems registering a stronger presence that the form had ever known before. Deep within him, he felt a pull that Optimus didn't ever remembering feeling as a Prime, or as an Autoboot - as a Cybertronian.
He suddenly could not remember what he'd meant to finish with, his fingers curling against the pavement forcefully as her hand pressed against his cheek.
"Then don't say anything," she whispered quietly. He was almost able to feel the words on his mouth. "I don't want you to say anything, Optimus..." her head tipped to the side as her eyes found his optics, looking at him for approval. "Nothing at all," was her final whisper, and he visible watched her frame stiffen, her shoulders pulled back with nervous tension. The red on her face deepened, and he could feel the quickening of her breathe, almost able to taste the pulse of her heart from her chest.
Oh Primus...He couldn't fathom audible words.
He was mildly surprised when she lowered to set the laptop on the ground before her feet, not breaking eye contact with him for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure he would've let her look way much less break physical contact, though when she stood, she lifted both hands to place on his face, her eyes roaming every inch of him as if she were mapping passages across his features.
Her eyes fell to his mouth, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as her fingers slowly whisked over his top lip once more, dipping low beneath his chin plating. She watched her hand for a moment, a far look in her eyes - until they filtered up to find his optics once more.
"I think you are the most beautiful being I've ever seen," she breathed, a soft breath escaping her, almost shadowing a sigh. "And I want to keep your secrets, Optimus. All of them...the best that I can," with all the strength she could muster, she pulled his face closer, touching her forehead against his mouth. "Help me, Optimus Prime - you're the only one who can..."
Her head fell back, allowing her full view of his face, the musculature of her throat moving gracefully in ways that sent heat spiking throughout every fiber nerve he knew that he had. Never before had he seen her so genuine, so vulnerable - and when he reached up a single finger to run down the length of her back, Optimus would've sworn to his death he saw her pulse skip beneath the skin along her jugular. She arched into the gesture, a sharp inhale of breath pulling her closer.
Not thinking, only able to feel, he used the end of the finger to gently touch what would be the small of her back, graciously prompting her even closer, if it were possible. Close would never be enough, for when the flesh of her body pressed against him, Optimus knew he would never again be able to live without her closeness. Her scent was overwhelming, her warmth intoxicating almost to the point of incoherence.
Somehow managing words, her eyes found his again. "Help me, Prime," the utterance of her mouth against his face was breathtaking, steeling every nerve he had within his form, "Show me..."
There was no restraint - without a word, or a breath, he gently lowered, offering himself fully to her ministrations, until he felt it - a small pressure, hardly distinguishable outside of every sense screaming at his recognition, found the corner of his mouth as her lips pressed against his. His spark lifted physically in his chest, and he moaned at its pain. The feeling tore away any sense of stability he might have possessed, rocking him forward. He caught himself on his hands, Miri stumbling backward as the ground beneath her trembled with his staggering mass.
He'd never kissed her in his true form. It was glorious.
The delight of the moment was snatched by her squeak of concern. "Prime," her tone was ragged, worrying as she righted, moving to take his face within her hands. "Optimus -"
He put out a hand as she stepped forward, signaling for her not to come closer. His spark flared with a heat never before experienced, and he moved his other hand to his sparkchamber, uncertain of the pulse emanating from his sparkchamber. Staggering backward, he locked gazes with her, grieved that her face looked so apologetic and fearful.
He was unable to formulate words, the sensation in his core overwhelming any ability to speak as he shook his head at her, unwilling for her to move supported himself briefly with one hand, igniting his transformative process, dropping into the Peterbilt swiftly, her eyes seeming to follow every shifting part his merging forms possessed.
Immediately the tension in his sparkchamber ebbed into a quiet pulse, his senses returning. Never before had he felt so much raw emotion at his core...so many pleasant emanations. Hardly able to concentrate on her slowly approaching form, one scan told him that her heart rate was erratic, her breathing engaged in rapid rises that did nothing for the benefit of her organic form. Plagued with a sheen of perspiration that made her almost glisten, she swiftly approached, putting hands on the Peterbilt, smoothing them over the truck's paint with careful consideration.
The form shuddered down to the frame at contact with her skin, and before he fully could discern what she was doing, the human femme was pulling herself into the truck's cab at the driver's side. Swinging into the seat nervously, she didn't release the wheel as she turned to face the radio, him closing the door behind her. It hit the frame with a quiet thud, leaving the world beyond their solitude outside.
Her brow was pulled tight with concern. "Optimus, are you alright?" She sounded so worried...if only she knew what he'd experienced, what he was feeling in every fiber of his core, there would be nothing for her to fear. Never, in all his battles or in any moment of testing had he felt so alive, so free so emboldened as he did, sitting with her here, feeling every movement of her body against the Peterbilt.
He was hyperaware, and she was unknowing. He pitied her inability to understand his genetic design, though he reveled in her curiosity. The radio flicked on effortlessly, and he angled the rearview to consider her form, which was pressed against the truck's bench seat nervously, every ounce of her presence wound tight with concern. He wasn't able to stifle the relieved sigh that filtered through the cabin's stereo, but relished as he felt the tension ease from her frame.
It felt wrong to leave her alone, after such a moment. He ignited the holoform beside her, and it came into form swiftly, manifesting fully. She turned to face it, looking briefly alarmed that he'd activated the technology - he rarely used this extension of his presence outside of their conversations, though he found it was provocative and electrifying - every time he'd used it, he felt an entirely new plane of humanity; had learned how to be close to humanity.
He especially recalled the night she had instructed him on how to "do dishes," as she called it - the night he had first felt a spark of something for the girl. He didn't fully understand it - wasn't sure what it meant - but whatever feeling steeled in his very core could not be wrong - he wouldn't let it be.
The holoform turned to face her in the seat, every ounce of him igniting with heat. He could feel the moment fully exposed in the dusting of Energon across his face, every pore of the holoform feeling alive and awake with information. Never before had he been able to experience touch so intensively as he did with the holoform; Ratchet had simply outdone himself with research. It was nothing short of an epiphany of God Himself.
Reaching across the seat, he gently took her chin between his fingers, her hands unwilling to release the wheel of the Peterbilt as she watched his movements. His gaze found hers, the intense blue of her irises diligently seeking his own. Human eyes were perhaps his favorite of humanity's features - the eyes, the hands; capable of so much touch, and so many extensions of task. He found them invigorating, almost staggering.
He chuckled softly at her continued expression of confusion. "I feel so much when I am with you, Miri," he spoke softly, feeling her frame tighten against not only his hand, but the bench of the truck. "I can keep nothing from you, short of my life itself, though if you required it of me, I would give it freely."
Optimus was surprised when her mouth fell open, her face disbelieving as she batted his hand away. "Optimus!" She exclaimed with a huff, shifting in the seat to look away from him. "How could you say that?" Lifting away to bat away a fallen curl from her face, her eyes scanned the dash of the Peterbilt, seemingly looking for words. "I would never -"
With an otherworldly speed, he swept her hand in his, and pulled it close, bringing it to the holoforms mouth. His lips brushed against the soft flesh from the back of her hand, the woman rendered speechless at the action as she gaped at the holoform. Optimus felt her spine straighten, her skin suddenly cool and alive with miniscule bumps across the expanse of her form. It was fascinating, his eyes opening to watch them rise up her arm.
She looked to her hand, which was still raised to his mouth, and he couldn't suppress the smile that came when he noticed the red on her face. Many times Miri had told him she hated her ability to become flustered so easily, though he found the trait endearing, if not innocent - she reminded him so much of himself before Cybertron had befallen a cruel fate, before he'd been rendered militant and stalwart in the war. Since Miri, Optimus hadn't even been sure he'd had the full ability to even feel.
"I know you would never," he said quietly, gently nudging her closer across the bench with a tender pull of her arm. She obliged, sliding into place beside him carefully, him bringing an arm around her shoulders to draw her closer. Had it not been for the internet he'd be at a loss for gestures, though he got the notion he was on the right track, because she relaxed immediately against the holoform.
There was a long play of silence between them, Optimus simply relishing in her closeness within the Peterbilt. He channeled most of his receptive ability into the holoform, entranced with the way he could feel the light pulse of her blood within her veins as he held her wrist gently within his hand. Absently, his thumb traced slow circle within the muscle of her shoulder, the flesh more than malleable beneath his touch. Her breathing was rhythmic against the Peterbilt's bench, until she moved to look up at him.
She reached her hand to the holoform's face, her fingertips gently brushing over his mouth tentatively, her eyes scanning his mouth, searching for something he didn't understand. A spark of heat fell into his chest again as he eyes filtered up to his, his mind spinning with informative data from the internet. He felt her pulse quicken when he looked to her mouth again, and without thinking, he dipped a hand beneath her thigh and grabbed her arm with a strong fist pulling her onto his lap as his back pressed fully into the bench seat.
A gasp of surprise filtered out of her as she braced herself over him against the seat, her breathing uneven as she looked between their conjoined bodies, and then his face. A darker shade of blush overtook her face, sending a bolt of pleasure down the holoform's spine. Optimus gave her a half smile, remembering how vulnerable he'd felt the first time she'd kissed him in the hangar's work bay. He'd felt ambushed, off guard, and delightfully thrilled all at once - and the evidence painted on her face said the Otten daughter was in the same position.
A curl had fallen into her face, and she jerked her head to move it aside, her eyes lifting to his as she studied the smirk on his face, Optimus still relishing in his moment of victory. "You going to explain yourself, or am I just sentenced to a moment of unwarranted humiliation."
He laughed at her. Primus it feels good to laugh. "Oh, I am enjoying this far to much to ruin it with explanations," he reached up and took the fallen curl between his fingers, its texture sending a rippling warmth into his chest. "Though you may consider this retribution for going against a direct order."
Her head snapped up to look at him, her hands falling away from the bench seat as she pinned him with a leveled look. "Oh? Is that so?" Immediately, and without hesitation, she settled her full weight into his lap, a sharp heat skyrocketing into the pit of the holoform's abdominal cavity as her body moved onto his. His eyes widened and he went completely motionless, the tables suddenly turned - his moment of confidence shattered as she offered her own smirk.
She gently lifted her hands and put rested them lazily on his shoulders, her fingertips brushing against the back of the holoform's neck. He felt a shock of something pulse through his sparkchamber as she straightened, a cool look of superiority filtering into her eyes. She chuckled, before taking her index finger and tipping his chin backward, the holoform's head resting against the back of the Peterbilt's bench.
The corner of her mouth lifted as she lifted her own gaze to match his. "Don't start things you can't finish, Optimus," she said his name with a slowness that sent a jolt throughout the entire Peterbilt, it stiffening into compliance as she lowered her face closer into his. "Revenge has no place here, with me, Prime. Don't forget that," her lips dusted his own, rising sparks of heat in the cavity of his chest.
He couldn't resist the idea of her taste, and righted his head just enough to press his lips against her own, instigating a squeak of surprise from her. The heat of her against his lap was unraveling his coherency, and he didn't dare let her move, lest he lose the ability to reason altogether. He applied pressure to their kiss, his hand finding the back of her neck, fingers digging into the tight curls along the base of her neck in such a way that left him almost breathless, had the holoform required breathing at all.
Unmoving, she welcomed his gesture, her mouth parting his own in a way that invoked a deeper need. He set his jaw just enough to be firm, and pressed against her mouth a bit harder, pulling a slight something from her chest that stirred his awareness to a point of spiraling. Her breathing shallowed as she gently moved back to pull the holoform's bottom lip delightfully, inhaling a sharp breath through her nose before creating distance between them.
He noticed immediately that her skin was slick with beaded perspiration, something that he immediately enjoyed. Closing her eyes she dropped her head back, staring at the Peterbilt's ceiling with a mystified expression, her mouth parted as she attempted to level her breathing. The heat on her skin was enough to remind him of his own presence, and briefly he wondered if she felt the same electrifying buzz at the back of her head as he was.
Optimus watched her momentarily, the rise of her throat gently moving with everything breath, his eyes following the length of her neck to her exposed shoulder. He didn't know why she opted for clothing that had a poorly fitting collar, as humanity called them, but her cream-colored skin stirred a want in the back of his mind so compelling that he was unable to stop himself from grabbing her shoulders, sitting forward, and making contract with the exposed flesh.
Heat immediately burst into his sparkchamber as she gasped, pressing back from him in an attempt to create distance, but he wouldn't allow it. He could taste something coarse on her skin, and he realized that the mineral was salt, though it wasn't distasteful - it invoked something in the back of his throat akin to a growl. Feeling the movement of her musculature beneath his ministrations was invigorating, more empowering than any victory he'd even felt - her strength collapsed against his as his fingers gently pressed into the skin of her shoulders, clutching her frame to his own.
She was muttering against his ear, but he wasn't within his own rights to hear, until she grabbed a handful of the holoform's hair and pulled his head back, while simultaneously reaching behind for the Peterbilt's gearstick. Heat exploded throughout his frame, and the holoform's back arched within an inch of breaking, eyes widened as every nerve within him pulsed alive, pulling a growl of appreciation from him. Instantly the touch reminded him of every sensitive nerve ending that the alternation form possessed. Triggered into a place of unparalleled feeling, his eyes found hers, which were softened, though authoritative.
She was breathless, the rise and fall of her chest rapid as she tried to replenish her body's need for oxygen. He relaxed against the vehicle's seat, letting his head fall back to close his eyes as his own ventilating systems engaged. Her hand slowly fell away from the gearstick, though from memory her fingertips navigated the truck's cooling system, engaging the truck's ability to provide cool air. Immediately fans engaged, dismissing the heavy lustfulness that had clouded his judgment.
She swung off of him, into the passenger seat, practically collapsing against it. She pressed a hand to her chest, eyes closed as she relished in cool air, and Optimus turned to watch her reach up and run her fingers through her hair. Without consent, he lifted hand, buried his fingers into her curls to find the tie that contained them, and gently worked it free, working the tie around the holoform's wrist.
He cupped the back of her head with his hand, her hair spilling down around her shoulders. He much preferred her to have her hair unconstrained, as it utterly fascinated it, though she oftentimes wore it up or in a twisting braid over her shoulder. She rolled her head against the seat back to smile at him, Optimus considering their previous conversation, all trace of anger toward her forgotten as his eyes found hers.
He sighed, his thumb gently pressing circles into the base of her neck. She relaxed immediately, her eyes falling closed as she sank into the gesture, him silently blessing the internet for so much information mere inches from his conscious. "I don't understand your reasons, Miri," he started softly, her eyes fluttering open to look at him softly, "nor do I desire for you to do this program. But, if you insist on participating," he sighed and reached across the bench seat for her hand, slowly interlacing her fingers with that of the holoform, "then I will be here for you when you return, in whatever state that will be."
She heaved a heavy sigh, Optimus almost visibly seeing the burden fall away from the shadow of her soul. "That is all that I ask, Prime," was her quiet reply, before she sat up and moved to rest against him, lacing her arms around the holoform's middle. He relaxed as she fell against him, and prickled to attention when she reached across to rest a hand against the dash. "You're the best, Optimus," was the final sigh that escaped her as she settled into the darkness of the cab.
His chuckle was the only noise that followed, save the rumbling of the Peterbilt's engine.