BW Oneshot: Top of the Chain
Title: Top of the Chain
Rating: T
'Verse: Beast Wars
Characters: Dinobot, Rattrap
Pairings: Rattrap/Dinobot
Warnings: Violence, implied sex
Summary: When the routine gets boring, turn the tables.
The encounter was initiated, as usual, by a fight. The reason was of no matter, just an excuse for the scrape of metal on metal and the maddening rush of energon such scuffles entailed. Dinobot shoved his smaller opponent against the wall and growled in his face. He jerked his head back as Rattrap snapped his teeth threateningly.
The charade of enmity was taking longer than normal, and wearing on Dinobot’s already limited patience. He just needed that one cue from the rodent, that indication of sudden sensual intent, and he would get down to business - rough as their relationship was, he never crossed that boundary without an invitation. But Rattrap wasn’t letting him in.
A well-aimed kick to the gut, and the irritation came out.
“Blast it, vermin, let’s get on with it already!” he spat, lower body aching now with two types of pain.
Something flared in Rattrap’s red optics - something Dinobot rarely saw in a Maximal - and he pushed off from the wall, toppling the much taller mech. Momentarily taken by surprise at the force behind the push, Dinobot crashed to the floor. When he tried to sit up, growling and rubbing the back of his helm, Rattrap dropped onto his chest, pinning him.
He glared up at his partner, annoyance bordering on real anger. “If you think this affront will be forgiven, rodent, you - ”
Without warning, Rattrap slapped him across the face. “Shaddup.”
This was too many surprises for one day. Cheek stinging, Dinobot stared at Rattrap, speechless at the spy’s audacity.
“How’s about you just listen real good today, Chopperface?” Rattrap hissed. “As much as I like this little dance of ours, I’m startin’ to think you’re gettin’ too comfy with the way things work. I insult you, you insult me, we smack each other a bit, we frag. You got certain expectations now. Makes me feel unappreciated, ya know? Taken for granted. And I don’t like that.”
The tone of the rat’s voice was one Dinobot hadn’t heard since he defected - that soft, sinister confidence that demanded complete obedience. He was so hot now that he could hardly think.
Rattrap leaned down, smiling evilly. “We’re gonna play a different game today, saurian. You wanna piece o’ this?” He ground his panel down against Dinobot’s chestplate. “You’re gonna do whatever I tell ya to do, no talkin’ back. Whaddya say, Chopperface?”
That dirty grin promised everything and more. He nearly trembled with need.
“Yes, sir.”
Rating: T
'Verse: Beast Wars
Characters: Dinobot, Rattrap
Pairings: Rattrap/Dinobot
Warnings: Violence, implied sex
Summary: When the routine gets boring, turn the tables.
The encounter was initiated, as usual, by a fight. The reason was of no matter, just an excuse for the scrape of metal on metal and the maddening rush of energon such scuffles entailed. Dinobot shoved his smaller opponent against the wall and growled in his face. He jerked his head back as Rattrap snapped his teeth threateningly.
The charade of enmity was taking longer than normal, and wearing on Dinobot’s already limited patience. He just needed that one cue from the rodent, that indication of sudden sensual intent, and he would get down to business - rough as their relationship was, he never crossed that boundary without an invitation. But Rattrap wasn’t letting him in.
A well-aimed kick to the gut, and the irritation came out.
“Blast it, vermin, let’s get on with it already!” he spat, lower body aching now with two types of pain.
Something flared in Rattrap’s red optics - something Dinobot rarely saw in a Maximal - and he pushed off from the wall, toppling the much taller mech. Momentarily taken by surprise at the force behind the push, Dinobot crashed to the floor. When he tried to sit up, growling and rubbing the back of his helm, Rattrap dropped onto his chest, pinning him.
He glared up at his partner, annoyance bordering on real anger. “If you think this affront will be forgiven, rodent, you - ”
Without warning, Rattrap slapped him across the face. “Shaddup.”
This was too many surprises for one day. Cheek stinging, Dinobot stared at Rattrap, speechless at the spy’s audacity.
“How’s about you just listen real good today, Chopperface?” Rattrap hissed. “As much as I like this little dance of ours, I’m startin’ to think you’re gettin’ too comfy with the way things work. I insult you, you insult me, we smack each other a bit, we frag. You got certain expectations now. Makes me feel unappreciated, ya know? Taken for granted. And I don’t like that.”
The tone of the rat’s voice was one Dinobot hadn’t heard since he defected - that soft, sinister confidence that demanded complete obedience. He was so hot now that he could hardly think.
Rattrap leaned down, smiling evilly. “We’re gonna play a different game today, saurian. You wanna piece o’ this?” He ground his panel down against Dinobot’s chestplate. “You’re gonna do whatever I tell ya to do, no talkin’ back. Whaddya say, Chopperface?”
That dirty grin promised everything and more. He nearly trembled with need.
“Yes, sir.”