Energized on High Grade was supposed to be a one shot story. However, I couldn't resist the idea of having the morning after! Only problem was I wrote and I didn't like it. So I rewrote most of it then put it on the back burner, over a low simmering flame.
Then someone called plenoptic started hounding me over and over for it! OMG! I think she threw the kitchen sink at me along with hit squads! But thank Primus she forgot death threats! Hehe.
Anyway, the first she wanted dirty now she wants smut! So, if you don't like SMUT don't read it!
a/n: not for the weak hearted!
THE MORNING AFTER
Optimus
Optimus groaned, grabbing his head as he sat up. He was seriously regretting giving in to the indulgence of drinking high grade with Ironhide. His processor was pounding, the left side of his face hurt, and worse, he couldn't remember what he did last night.
Although, judging from the huge grin on his femme's face as she recharged in her protoform beside him, he gathered that he must have had a good time with her. A very good time as his interface appliance and systems still felt somewhat over heated from being over exerted.
"At least she looks happy so I suppose I didn't do anything too embarrassing," he muttered to himself.
Regardless, the fun was over. Time to work which meant it was time he finish those reports for Prowl.
Optimus got up, allowing his battle armor to slide into place. The very sound of it, though it wasn't loud, made his processor throb even more. He slowly and gingerly made his way across the room. Primus, he hadn't felt this sore in a long time. Not since he first training lesson with Ironhide where the weapon's officer kick Optimus' aft just to prove a point.
"Frag!" he winced, covering his optics as the brightness of the hallway lighting was way too bright.
Luckily it was early and the halls were deserted as he stood there for a few astroseconds and allowed his optics to adjust. Once ready, Optimus headed straight for the Med Bay. There was no way he was going to be able to get through those reports unless he got rid of his hangover first.
"Morning lugnut!" Ironhide said, but sounded like he shouted into Optimus' audio receptor.
"How much did I drink?" Optimus groaned, rubbing his temples.
"I don't know. I stopped counting after the third one."
"I didn't do anything to belittle my position as leader, did I?"
"Believe me Optimus, little isn't a word that comes to mind in any of the mechs' processors at the moment."
"What?"
"I'll see you later!" he shouted and Optimus grimaced, grabbing his head in pain. "Oh, Prowl wanted me to remind you about those reports!"
Optimus grunted in response and tried to pick up the pace to the Med Bay. His sensors indicated that a few Autobots were up and walking in his general direction. He did his best to hide his pain and walk normally.
It was two femmes. He nodded politely to them like he would always do. They nodded in return. From his peripheral view he saw their optics noticeably dragged slowly up and down his form as he passed by them.
He chuckled to himself. He was still a femme magnet even though he was bonded to Elita.
"Ah, there's the youngling," Ratchet teased as Optimus dragged himself into the Med Bay.
"Just give me something for my hangover," Optimus pleaded, lying facedown on the first exam table he came to.
"First of all, turn over so I can make sure you didn't damage yourself too badly."
It took some effort but Optimus turned over, taking his optics offline. He actually felt comfortable enough to head back into recharge.
"What did I do last night anyway?"
"You and Ironhide had a brawl in the recreation room much like you did the very first time you got drunk on high grade," Ratchet answered.
"Perfect," Optimus moaned sarcastically.
"It was good for moral. I haven't seen the troops that excited in a long time. Besides, you kicked Ironhide's aft."
"I did?" he asked totally astonished, bringing his optics online and lifting his head up.
"Yup."
"Figures, I finally kick Ironhide's fraggin aft and I can't recall a single moment of it!"
"You and Ironhide are the only two mechs I know who get energized after drinking too much high grade," Ratchet commented as his fingers probed the sensitive area on Optimus' faceplates. "This hurt?"
"OW! Frag yes!"
"Sorry, Optimus," he smiled. "The bruising is nearly gone. In another hour or so it will be healed completely."
"And my hangover?"
"I'll give you my special concoctions," he said, holding up a syringe. "I just gave Ironhide a double dose. But I think you'll only need one."
"I thought he was too chipper this early in the morning."
Optimus felt the needle being inserted into his neck and winced.
"Just lay still a few moments then you'll be as good as new," Ratchet smiled. "By the way, how's Elita?"
"She was fine when I left her…actually she looked better than fine."
"I'm sure she does," the medic snickered. "Five seems to be her magic number."
"What?"
"Nothing, you can go whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, Ratchet."
By the time Optimus reached the door to his and Elita's office he was feeling fine. Although he wasn't sure what to make of the gaping mouths of a few mechs he passed in the hallway. None of them could make optic to optic contact with him. If he acknowledged them the politely returned the gesture then hurried off.
Upon opening the door, Optimus felt his headache coming back. The office was a mess! All the reports that were neatly stacked on his desk were scattered all over the floor. With a loud groan, he entered the office, shut the door, and started picking up the reports.
Elita
Elita's body ached pleasantly as she slowly stretched and yawned. Primus, she hadn't over recharged in ages. But she couldn't help it. Optimus really wore her out last night. After they left the office, Elita was planning on recharging. Optimus wasn't. The office was just the prelude.
A smile spread across her faceplates. They hadn't had a long night of passionate love making like that in a long time. And like last time, she could barely move the next day. Her arms and limbs felt tired. But her interface system still felt wired and ready for more.
Just imaging Optimus touching her was getting her systems in an uproar.
"For Primus sake, stop! You're not a sex starved femme!"
Regardless, drastic action needed to be taken so Elita took a cold shower. She wasn't on duty until later this afternoon but had promised Chromia a few rounds of target practice.
"Wasn't sure if you were going to make it," Chromia snickered.
"I promised. And I always keep my appointments."
"Still, after last night…I just thought…well you know."
Elita blinked her optics at her friend, wondering what she was talking about.
"Can I make a suggestion?"
"You're going to whether I say yes or no," Elita replied.
"Shut the door next time."
"Excuse me?"
"Shut the door to the office the next time you and Optimus decide to be…intimate."
Elita shrank in her spot and her face plates turned a dark shade of red.
"Don't worry," Chromia laughed. "No one saw, except Ironhide. At least that's what he told me. He shut the door right away. Although, there is this rumor going around the base about the size of Optimus'…"
"Optimus' what?" Elita demanded when Chromia trailed off.
"Let's just say the mechs on the base are feeling a little…less endowed."
"Primus, Ironhide's didn't start that rumor up again about the size of Optimus' interface appliance did he? Poor Optimus was so embarrassed about it the last time."
"Why on Cybertron would a mech like Optimus be embarrassed?"
"Because Optimus isn't the kind of mech to go comparing the size of his interface appliance with anyone. It's all in how a mech uses it with him."
"Yeah, well, you're still glowing so he must have done something right! But I think I should warn you, Optimus doesn't remember a thing from last night."
"What?"
"Oh, Elita, you honestly think if Optimus was lightly buzzed he'd be brawling in the recreation room. He and Ironhide are not regular sized mechs. They were drinking high grade that's twice as strong as the regular stuff. And they drank a lot of it."
"Oh."
Elita felt somewhat disappointed. Then she was suddenly struck with an idea. Perhaps, she could jog his processor into recalling last night's events. It'd be a shame if her sparkmate couldn't remember one of the most passionate nights they've had together as a bonded pair.
"I'll catch up with you later," she grinned at Chromia.
"Remember to shut…and lock the door!"
It was easy enough to find her mech. And what a sight he was, on the floor, on his hands and knees halfway beneath his desk picking up reports. Elita stifled the urge to laugh as she recalled how her horny mech flung the reports aside and took her on the desk.
Primus, what a view now! His aft just looked to irresistible. And she couldn't help herself or the dirty thoughts racing through her processor.
Moving quietly into the office, Elita shut and locked the door. Then she moved stealthily across the room to her mech.
Oh she was wicked!
Her hand slid affectionately over his aft. The loving almost lustful action caused Optimus to jump in surprise. His head smacked the bottom of his desk so hard that the neat stack of reports fell over and onto the floor.
"Primus, Elita, warn me before you do that!" he groaned, grabbing the back of his head as he slowly rose to his feet.
"What would be the fun of that?" she playfully teased.
Optimus suddenly dropped his arms down to his side, his shoulders sagged, and he dropped his head, his optic stared down at the floor avoiding her gaze. She immediately recognized the guilt on his faceplates.
"I have something to say," he began with a sigh. "I know from the smile on your face that we had a good time last night. My only regret is that I can't remember any of it."
"I know."
"You do?" he questioned, lifting his gaze to meet hers.
"I thought perhaps I could jog those memories loose for you," she smiled hopefully up at him, her fingers tracing the flames' edges on his chest.
"What…here…now?"
"You weren't shy about being in here last night. Why do you think the reports were all over the floor?"
His optic covers blinked rapidly a few times as he looked from her to the mess then back to her.
"Really?" he questioned in disbelief.
"Really," she nodded.
"That doesn't sound like me. Perhaps it's best that I don't know what happened."
He was serious!
"Do you want a cranky femme on your hands?" she questioned.
"Well…I…"
"Because you'll have one! And you know what that means? There will no chance of interfacing or spark bonding for a month or so?"
"Pfft, as if!" he scoffed. "You haven't been able to keep your hands of me since you arrived on Earth."
Elita's mouth dropped open in utter dismay. And to think, she felt bad because he was feeling so guilty a moment ago!
"Why you egotistical, pompous slaghead of a mech! How dare you accuse me you overgrown groping pit spawn!"
Optimus smirked down at her, arms folded across his chest, one optic ridge raised slightly. Elita didn't hesitate to reach up and try to slap the fiendish grin off his face. Only problem was the fraggin mech and his fast reflexes grabbed hold of her hand before it could even get close to his faceplates.
"Ah! See! There you go trying to touch me again!" he teased.
Elita growled, ready to give him a swift kick to the groin. Only he suddenly whirled her around before she could, pressing his chest into her back. His strong arms held her close as she struggled to break free from his embrace.
"Be calm, my love," he purred into her audio receptor.
"Let me go!" she growled.
"I can't do that, Elita."
Primus, he was using that tone that made her spark flutter frantically within its chamber. She was rapidly losing the will the fight him just by that tone. And it didn't help that he was nuzzling her neck softly with his nose either.
"I can never let you go," he whispered. "You have my spark."
Then he kissed her long and hard on the neck just below her audio receptor. Elita melted into his from, losing herself in his touch as his hands caressed the breast plates of her armor.
"Do I really grope?" he asked suddenly, his hands still slowly exploring her form.
"Yes, but it's the nice kind of groping. The kind that gets my interface systems all revved up."
A hand moved slowly down her front and rested on the lowest point of her abdomen. Elita inhaled shortly at his touch.
"No kidding, you're interface systems are running a bit hot at the moment," he chuckled softly.
"You gonna doing something about it?"
"I might. But not here."
Elita staggered a step or two when he suddenly moved away from her.
"Coming?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her to take. "I want to try something. Our quarters would be more appropriate."
Normally, Elita would have been a little miffed that he'd suddenly stop his affections like that towards her. Except his optics had that same fiery passion she had noticed from last night and she was curious about what he wanted to try.
So, she put her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to their quarters. She honestly didn't know if they past fellow Autobots in the halls or not. There was only her sparkmate. His spark was calling to her so strongly that her own was anxiously whirling within its chamber.
"Retract your battle armor and lay on the recharge bed for me please," he requested.
Primus, Optimus' deep voice was so soft, melodic…so sensual that he could have ask her to jump off a cliff right now and she'd do it!
"I'm sorry I can't remember much of last night," he whispered, the last pieces of his own armor retracted, his form closely following hers down onto their bed. "I hope to make it up to you, my love."
"You're doing a…"
His mouth covered hers, kissing her deeply not allowing her to finish her sentence. Not that Elita was going to complain one bit about her beloved Optimus at the moment. She was enjoying the heat of his protoform pressed so firmly against hers.
Bonding or interfacing in one's protoform was always a more sensual experience. There was no armor to hinder any attempts of sparkmates to feed pleasure to each other's senses. It also allowed for more flexibility, making it much easier for a femme to wrap her legs snuggly around her mech's waist.
Elita grinned, exposing her neck to Optimus' roaming lips. Her spark pulsed excitedly in anticipation at the feeling of his hand slowly caressing up the back of her thigh. Feathery fingertips fluttered across her interface panel causing her to gasp loudly. Then his hand slid over her aft, cupping it tightly as his eager hips moved suggestively against hers.
The heat of his interface system pressed so closely against hers was a pleasure all its own. Yet it wasn't enough to satiate her at the moment. She wanted more of him. Frantic hands moved down his back, grabbing his aft and pulling him against her as she thrust her hips up hard against him. Her interface panel retracted exposing her port to him.
She was ready and waiting for him to follow her queues.
Only Elita didn't feel the familiar, pleasurable heat of his interface appliance gently probing the outer circumference of her port. Her spark was racing, her processor confused as he gently unwrapped her legs from around his waist.
"I said I wanted to try something," he smiled affectionately at her.
The flamed passion was burning hotter than ever in those beautiful blue optics of his.
"Not sure why I never thought of it before," he murmured between his kisses. "I came across it while surfing the internet."
He paused, laughing softly staring down at her. Delicate fingers caressed her face.
"Strange sensual creatures these humans are. They live for pleasure."
"They don't sound too different from us," she smiled, pulling his face closer to hers.
Elita wasn't in the mood for talking. So she shut Optimus up the only way she could at the moment by kissing him. He can't talk when her tongue is probing the inside of his mouth.
"Let me do this for you my love," he panted, barely managing to pry his mouth from hers.
And before Elita could kiss Optimus again, he slid down her form slightly. Hot lips pressed against the middle of her chest making her arch her back slightly. It was no secret how sensitive a mech or femme's chest was. Some were just more sensitive than others, Optimus' being one of the most sensitive. Elita could always make him shudder with pleasure at the lightest touch of her hand across his broad chest.
Not knowing what he was up to, she lifted her head and watched as his moved ever so slowly. Ravenous lips traveled down her abdomen region, moving closer and closer…
Elita dropped her head back down. She trembled in anticipation. Optimus' lips pressed lovingly against where her heated and revved up interface systems were. Then suddenly he stopped kissing her. But only for the briefest of moments. She inhaled deeply, distinctly feeling his lips slide up her inner thigh.
There was another pause only longer this time.
Then soft lips pressed just near her port causing her entire body to shudder with rapture. Ever so slowly she felt the hot tongue of her mate slip into her port. A wave of pleasure enveloped her. Her back arched higher than before.
She could feel each movement of his tongue…circling, probing, thrusting…within her port. Each sensual pleasure caused her to moan louder and longer than before.
Primus, her coolant systems could barely keep up. Her interface systems were getting ready to…
"OH OPTIMUS!" she screamed in ecstasy when she unexpectedly overloaded.
Elita's entire form writhed with pleasure for several long astroseconds before she finally relaxed. She was panting. The only way to help her coolant systems function more quickly. Primus, she could barely move at the moment, her arms and legs felt heavy.
"I take it you really like that," Optimus commented, his amusement evident in his deep voice. "I could barely hold you still!"
She brought her optics online, unaware that they had even gone offline when she overloaded. Above her face was her mech, smiling down at her, holding her close.
"Wow," she whispered, making him laugh.
"I'm glad you liked it."
"But…what about you?" she worriedly asked. "I overloaded without you."
"Think nothing of it," he smiled, caressing her face. "It was enough for me to know you got so much pleasure from it."
"Still, I can't let my mech go without overloading! Not after what you just did for me."
"What do you have in mind?" he asked, snuggling against her closely.
"I'll think of something," she grinned.
Ironhide
"Finally! I have you both right where I want you!" Ironhide growled, dragging both Sunny and Sides by the scruffs of their necks. "I promise I will rip both your afts inside out very slowly! Very slowly!"
"We're sorry we're a couple of perverts," Sides apologized.
"Please, I like my aft! Don't rip it inside out!" Sunny pleaded.
A sudden loud violent crash sounded from behind the door Ironhide was walking by. Instinctively he primed his cannons after dropping the twins. Their soldier instincts took over to as they drew their weapons too.
"That's Optimus and Elita's quarters," Sides whispered.
Ironhide glanced over at the doors designation above the locking mechanism. The pervert was right. Ironhide also noticed the door was locked.
There was another crash followed by a heavy thump against the wall near the door. Ironhide was all ready to smash the door in when he heard the distinct cry of passion clearly through the wall.
"Primus almighty!" he groaned, lowering his cannons.
"What? What is it?" Sunny nervously asked.
"They're at it again."
An even louder shout of passion sounded immediately followed by Elita calling out her sparkmate's name. This was accompanied by a low deep almost menacing growl.
"Where do they get the energy?!" Sunny exclaimed, putting he audio receptor against the wall. "What…does he have Elita pinned against the wall or something?"
"Probably," Ironhide answered. "About once every couple of decades or so they get very…frisky with one another."
"You mean they wreck furniture, put dents in walls just like you and Chromia do almost every time you two interface?" Sides asked in disbelief.
"Hang on…I think they're about to overload!" Sunny giggled. "I'll bet they do it at least five times again!"
"I doubt after yesterday Optimus would have that kind of energy," Ironhide said, drawing from his own experience.
"Afraid, Hide?" Sunny dared.
"Fine, you're on runt! What you heard a moment ago counts as one overload for them both."
"How can you tell?" Sunny asked.
"By how Elita shouts his name and by how Optimus growls possessively. I've lobbied for years to get sound proof walls back on Cybertron. Those two were always going at it and my room was right next to them."
"Is that one there?" Sides asked.
"Primus, do either of you even know how to interface properly with a femme? Overload is not to be instantaneous. You have to get a femme all worked up. Listen, hear that? That is Optimus warming her Elita. You can tell by the sound of her mo…"
Ironhide suddenly heard the distinct sound of a plasma rifle priming up to full charge.
"Yikes! Let's roll bro!" Sunny yelped.
Before Ironhide finished turning the twins were gone in a flash and he was left alone looking down the long barrel of a plasma rifle.
"Ironhide, how could you?" Chromia growled. "Making bets like that and eavesdropping!"
"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say, hanging his head in shame.
"You should be! Optimus never did such a thing to us! The twins I expect, but not you! You of all the mechs on this base know how sacred these moments are between sparkmates."
"But Optimus is almost always interrupting us!"
"Well, if one of us had a bit more self control he wouldn't have to!"
Ironhide suddenly burst into laughter as did Chromia.
"I can't help it," she smiled sheepishly. "I've try to behave. I just love my mech too much at times."
"The fault is mine as well. I could have insisted we go somewhere more…private."
"Come on, let's go somewhere private then," she smirked at him.
Ironhide grinned taking the rifle from her.
"Maximum setting? You wouldn't have…" he implied.
"I would have given you three a good scorch mark to prove a point. Besides, you were making the wrong kind of bet, my love. We should be betting on whether or not the sounds of pitter pattering little sparkling feet will be heard around Optimus' and Elita's quarters."
"Mech or femme?"
"Femme."
"Really?"
"Of course! And…well…what about us?"
"A sparkling?!" he sputtered out, dropping the plasma rifle.
"You have a problem with that?" she said, picking up the rifle.
Ironhide didn't answer. He fidgeted about trying to think of what to say. Then he glanced nervously at the rifle in her hands, when he noticed her finger was suddenly close to the trigger.
He slowly looked up to see her glowing blue optics were hot with anger.
Yikes!
He made the mistake of not answering quickly enough. So he did the only thing he could do when his femme was mad with a primed weapon in her hand.
Ironhide ran!