Mirage and Moon Racer's Turn

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC's, plot, and medical procedures. :)

Warnings: Mirage is a kinky little bugger. ;)

Moon Racer was bored out of her circuits. Ratchet was giving some lecture about proper interface precautions. After catching Bumblebee and his little femme trying to mate without using firewalls, Optimus had decided that a mandatory question-and-answer "interface" meeting for every single mech and femme on base was in order. Now poor Bumblebee and the femme were sitting in the very front, earning glares from the CMO and his aides. It had been three hours since the beginning and the mech was still blathering on. At least they were past the 'mech and femme' talk. Moon Racer slumped slightly in the back of the room, propping her feet up on the seat in front of her and leaning back in the seat. Her optic shutters fluttered closed. She thanked Primus that the auditorium was not lit very brightly and that all of the spotlights were focused on the stage.

Something brushed against her chest. She swatted at it and snuggled into the arm of the seat. The thing brushed against her throat, making the femme gasp quietly. She heard a low chuckle from behind her and turned. No one was there.

"Mirage," she whispered, looking around.

"Yes, my lady," Mirage purred, nuzzling her neck softly. He was crouching in the row behind her. She whimpered as he brushed against the sensitive circuitry, nuzzling it with a gentleness that amazed her. His touches were feather-like brushes against her armor and underlying shell, leaving her slightly breathless in anticipation of his next move. His hands drifted down the front of her chest and over her abdomen, making her whimper a little bit more loudly.

"Shh, love. We can't have anyone hearing us," Mirage growled quietly, nipping her audio receptor gently. Moon Racer nodded once more, bracing herself with the arms of the seat. Mirage caressed her abdomen gently, reaching around to spread her legs a bit.

"Mirage, stop that," she hissed, batting his hands as they strayed up to her interface port. She realized she had hissed a bit too loudly when the mech three rows in front of her turned around. Moon Racer covered by making a slight coughing noise. The mech turned back around. Mirage chuckled quietly.

"Good cover," he said quietly, lowering his mouth components to her neck once more. His hands spread her thighs again. Moon Racer felt her internal temperature skyrocket with the feeling of his hands straying upwards, stopping to finger the fuel lines that fed into her legs. Then she realized what they were doing, where they were doing it, and in front of who.

"Mirage, stop it. I'm not an exhibitionist like you! I can't simply turn invisi – AIIEEE!"

Moon Racer clapped her hands over her mouth as her cry gathered attention. This time, three of the mechs turned around, giving her a questioning stare. She coughed louder, motioning at her intake fans. The mech who'd first turned around gave her a suspicious glare and turned back around. Mirage laughed again, dipping his fingers into the seam again. Moon Racer managed to keep her vocalizer off and only shivered.

"Mirage…"

The mech's hands disappeared from her body. After a moment, she turned around. She heard a soft scuffling noise, then nothing.

"Mirage? Where'd you go? I was kidding…"

There was pressure on her legs and she whirled back around.

"Mirage? What are you doing?"

The mech did not answer. Moon Racer stifled a scream as Mirage's mouth components covered her interface port. She began whimpering and clutched the sides of the chair.

"M-Mirage, st-stop it," Moon Racer said, her hands flying up and latching onto his shoulders. He pulled her hips toward the edge of the chair, allowing him easier access to the circuitry nestled between her legs. He ignored her and reached up, burying his fingers into the wires in her abdominal plating. The femme was panting quietly, writhing at his attention, begging for him to stop. Fire ran through her fuel lines, making her entire body tingle at his touch. He circled the sensitive dataport with his glossa once, twice, before dipping his glossa obligingly inwards.

Moon Racer had to clap her hands over her mouth to stifle her shriek. The mech three rows down ignored her. Whether he knew what she was doing or not, he was pointedly avoiding looking at her. Mirage chuckled again, pinning her trembling legs with his hands. She cried out, her back impossibly arched towards the mech kneeling between her legs. The pleasure shooting up from her interface port turned into throbbing, pleasurable agony as she hovered on the edge of the best overload of her life.

With one last gentle swipe of Mirage's glossa, Moon Racer overloaded, clamping her thighs around him. Her hands were still firmly clapped over her mouth but her cries were still a bit loud. As she sagged in her seat, her exhausts pouring steam, the mech turned back around. This time, he wore an amused smile and merely shook his head at her. Moon Racer pointedly ignored him.

"You fragger," she said half-heartedly, reaching out blindly. Mirage took her hand and kissed it.

"Only for you, my lady," he said.

Moon Racer turned her head and looked around. Where could she and Mirage get a bit of privacy? There was a storage room in the back and she smirked.

"Storage," Mirage purred, fairly intrigued at her sudden boldness. Moon Racer nodded and got out of her seat. She ducked down low and began creeping up one of the aisles. She reached the back of the room, a thrill rushing through her systems. The door swung open quietly and she went in, laughing quietly as the door shut behind her. Mirage did not need any encouragement to finish what he started.

Moon Racer kissed him gently, running her hands over his chest. Then she reached up and flicked on the light. Mirage phased out of invisibility and back into his normal state. He pushed her up against the wall, firmly wrapping her legs about his waist. Mirage thrust against her interface port. Moon Racer cried out, her hands clawing at his back armor. He groaned as her hands slipped back down, fingering the seam in his chest plates. Moon Racer, too far gone to care about the consequences of what she was about to do, opened her chest plates. Mirage followed quickly, his passion driven by the lust he had for the femme in front of him. He pushed his chest against hers, groaning as their sparks merged finally and fully, engulfing them both in a fiery, passionate inferno. Almost as quickly as their sparks merged, they split back into two.

Then Mirage began moving against Moon Racer and any concerns of what they just did disappeared with the delicious burn that came with mating. He put one hand underneath her aft and pushed into the femme with his hips, using the other hand to stabilize himself. Moon Racer's cries grew louder as his movements grew jerky and uneven with his impending overload.

Moon Racer screamed and stiffened. Her overload washed over her body, jerking a low sob out of her vocalizer as she clung to Mirage. He thrust a few more times before he overloaded, his fingers tightening around her waist as his invisibility flickered a few times. They clung together for a few moments more. Mirage disengaged their interface ports and helped Moon Racer stand. Then Moon Racer wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

"That was delightful. We should do it again," she said, smirking up at him. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist. She shut the light off and opened the door. It was suddenly quite a bit brighter outside. Then she realized that there was a spotlight on the door.

"…and as Moon Racer and Mirage have so helpfully demonstrated, you can merge sparks under a multitude of conditions," Ratchet said dryly, his voice amplified through the speakers. Moon Racer gasped and covered her face with her hands. Mirage only smirked at the hundred and fifty odd mechs and femmes in the room.

"Next time, take your activities where you won't be seen through the window," Nightshade said, motioning at the clear glass in the door. Mirage only smirked again.

"Keep it down, too. You'd be surprised how well that room amplifies sound," Red Alert said, adding his two cents and leering up at the couple. Moon Racer ducked behind Mirage, positively burning in mortification. How loud had she been?

"I think we will," Mirage said. With that, he ducked down and carted Moon Racer over his shoulder. The femme shrieked and slapped his back but he would not put her down. She began cursing him quietly when some of the raunchier mechs burst into applause and began calling out 'suggestions' of what to do. Even Ratchet added his opinion and was met with more cheering.

"Be sure to use firewalls," one bawdy mech called out.

"Yes, don't want any little Mirages running around," a femme called out, teasing her friend. Moon Racer only buried her face in her hands and resigned herself to the indignity of being carried around like a sack of spare parts. Mirage gave Prime a sharp salute before turning and leaving the room.

Poor Moon Racer!