RP log: Ironhide and Ratchet's first time
Ironhide leans back against a medbay counter, relaxing subtly now that Fractal and Gunner have vacated the premises without serious incident. "I missed you at the bar last night..." he admits in a low voice, glancing towards the green medic.
Ratchet goes to the medbay's sink and washes the little bit of energon and mech fluid that he had got on them. "I would have gladly joined you if you had asked." he says.
Ironhide: "I would have asked if I knew were to find you," the black mech returns, watching Ratchet clean those elegant and clever hands. "When I stopped by the medbay you were gone, and then I ran into Sunstreaker, who was miffed at Sideswipe who somehow rusted his armour off...?" he shakes his head. "Anyway, I thought maybe you had gone to recharge with an aching CPU after dealing with those two. I know how they wear you out."
Ratchet nods. "I was in my room getting some much needed recharge, but I would not have been adverse to your company." He dries his hands on a large cloth and turns to face Ironhide.
Ironhide grunts. "You need your rest, not me dragging you around all the time," he says, slumping his shoulders a bit in regret.
Ratchet sighs. "Yes, but I do get lonely." He teases. "I need good company as well as rest."
Ironhide returns his gaze to Ratchet after looking away to handle the message from Prowl. "Lonely?" he murmurs, easing a little closer to the medic, "Well, we can't have that, can we?"
Ratchet smiles softly. "It isn't exactly my favored status."
Ironhide sighs, and leans back against the counter once more, a little closer to Ratchet. "I guess all the scrapped bots coming in all the time aren't exactly the best company."
Ratchet snorts. "Certainly not my favored company." he gives the weapons specialist a meaningful look.
Ironhide glances away abruptly, and begins fiddling with his cannons. "Mmmm. I had some time to talk with Fractal last night."
Ratchet tilt his head curiously. "About?"
Ironhide still appears very interested in his weaponry. "Philosophy, Decepticons, high grade..."
Ratchet laughs. "I'm surprised that you could stand to be around him long enough to have a decent talk." He smiles to take the sting from his words.
Ironhide: "Me, too," he says in a surprised voice. "But I saw something last night, something that makes me think that, ex-Con or not, maybe he won't need blasting just yet..."
Ratchet 's smile widens. "I'm proud of you Ironhide." He says as he crosses the space between them to give Ironhide a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
Ironhide sighs in contentment, and leans into Ratchet's touch like a cat begging to be petted. "I was hoping you'd say that," he admits quietly. "It was slagging hard, but I did it... for you."
Ratchet draws back a little, clearly surprised. "'Hide? I-I'm touched, old friend." He says softly.
Ironhide begins a close inspection of his cannons again. Yep, they still work. "Well, you know, with you always telling me you expect better of me and stuff, and I thought that maybe better was what you deserved..."
Ratchet 's smile threatens to break his lip components at those words. "Maybe I was a little harsh, but that you took my words into consideration means a lot to me."
Ironhide tilts his head towards Ratchet again, optics glowing brightly. "And your good opinion means a lot to me."
Ratchet gives Ironhide a fond look. "I've always held you in high regard, 'Hide. Even if I didn't always act like it."
Sunstreaker leans against the medbay's door, optics hazy and waves weakly. "Yo, doc? Sorry for interruptin'..."
Ironhide jumps guiltily, heavy armour rattling in discomfort as Sunstreaker's voice cuts through the pleasant haze that has invaded his processor.
Ratchet is startled by Sunstreaker's sudden appearance. He backs away from Ironhide and focuses on the yellow mech. "What have you done to yourself now?" He snarks to cover his embarrassment.
Sunstreaker whines. "Nothin'! Honestly! But it's bad... And I mean, really bad!" He stubbornly tries not to collapse.
Ratchet taps one foot impatiently. "Well?"
Sunstreaker takes his hand away from his shoulder he was holding... and there's a nasty rust fleck on the brand new armor. "My system is screamin' at me, it's overheated, and it hurts... I think... something remained inside from last time."
Ratchet frowns. "Get over here and sit down." he says.
Sunstreaker stumbles closer. His ventilation is humming loudly as it tries to cope with the higher than average core temperature.
Ironhide looks between Sunstreaker and Ratchet, hesitantly, reluctant to abandon his friend to more tedious work when he never seems to get a break. He wrings his huge hands uselessly. "Let me know if I can, uhh, help?" What such a ham-fisted war mech could do to assist a medic is debatable, but it's the thought that counts.
Ratchet helps Sunstreaker onto a berth and begins to examine the spot. "Replacing the part should fix it." He says as he gets his tools ready.
Sunstreaker whimpers. "It's eating me from the inside..."
Ratchet removes the rusted metal and curses at the rusted mess below it. "Slag it. *sigh* This will take a more drastic cure." He mutters. "Stay put." He orders as he goes to find the ships supply of Rust-Ease.
Sunstreaker growls weakly. "Yeah." He's too feverish to wiggle much.
Ratchet comes back with a can of Rust-ease and sloughs it onto the rusted parts. "You'll have to keep putting this on until all of the rust is gone. Everyday at least three times." He orders.
Ironhide moves a little closer so he can see what is happening with Sunstreaker, and winces when he sees the rusted mess that his innards are in. "Primus, that's revolting."
Sunstreaker winces, the stuff stings a bit. "Okay... Any idea about the overheating? Or it'll just pass with the rust?"
Ratchet nods. "It's just you internal repair stressing to repair what it can't." He explains.
Sunstreaker nods. "Oh. See. Thank you, doc." He stands and sways a bit. "Suppose this kinda means I won't be able to see to my duties...?"
Ratchet nods. "You need rest. I'm sure Prowl won't be angry if you heal before taking up your punishment." He smirks. "Of course I'll explain the details."
Sunstreaker frowns a bit. "Maybe I should report him. I doubt he'll believe it unless he sees that I'm telling the truth."
Sunstreaker adds: "And I did the work yesterday."
Ratchet "Then get, you yellow hellion." he says sternly. "Prowl's a busy mech. You need to catch him before he's caught up in his duties."
Sunstreaker salutes lazily. "Yessir. Sorry for the trouble." He smiles a bit, thankful for the care and walks off, targeting Prowl's office.
Ironhide looks relieved by the prospect of Sunstreaker and his disturbing rust affliction disappearing from medbay. He pushes back from the table he has been leaning on a little unsteadily.
Ratchet sighs as he cleans up the berth and carefully disposes of the rusty piece of armor. "I wish those to could keep out of trouble." He grumbles.
Ironhide: Speaking of berths, the huge black mech gives Ratchet a wide one as he goes by with the rusted armour for disposal. A low gurgling sound erupts from deep inside, and he staggers, leaning back against a nearby table, and covering his mouth.
Ratchet watches his hands again and approaches Ironhide. "'Hide? Are you feeling unwell?"
Ironhide half collapses onto the table, intakes heaving as he tries to stabilize his unhappy fuel tank. "I'll be fine, just give me a few kliks," he answers, vocalizer sounding choked.
Ratchet rubs a hand over Ironhide's back. "Are you sure? I could give you something to take care of that." He says soothingly.
Ironhide shakes his head. "I'll be fine," he repeats weakly. "I just... don't like the sight of rust. Give me mech fluid, processed energon, hydraulic fluid, anything, but rust..." He makes a strange sort of coughing sound, as though trying not to purge the fuel he has already consumed today. "I always think I'll get used to it if I face it enough, but I never do..."
Ratchet nods and continues rubbing his back. "An understandable reaction."
Ironhide takes in a few shaky breaths, a haunted, distant look in his optics. "It reminds me of a day early in the war. I hadn't been in a lot of fighting then, but my unit had been sent out to scavenge an old battlefield for scraps that our field hospitals could use. There were a lot of empty, damaged shells, but that didn't really phase me. I thought I had become immune to the carnage. I was stripping some wires when a hand suddenly touched mine. The rest of the members of my unit were scattered too far away for it to be them, and I turned, and saw that the mech I had been scavenging from, this... thing with the face half eaten away by rust, was still alive..."
Ratchet shudders. "'Hide..."
Ironhide looks down at his hands. "Half of him was gone and he'd been left for dead, his own fluids leaking out and eating away at his body. His optics were nearly burnt out, he was almost gone, but I couldn't leave him like that, not one astrosecond longer... so I shot him. It didn't take much. To this day don't know if he was one of ours or one of theirs... but I don't really care... Nobody deserves that..."
Ratchet sighs wearily. "I'm sorry. 'Hide." He says though he isn't sure why he's apologizing. "I've seen plenty of particularly nasty things as a medic, but I've never encountered something like that."
Ironhide nods. "Ever since that day I just... couldn't take the sight of rust. It's why I nearly blasted that little rodent dog of Sam's remember? It's why I take good care of myself too. I couldn't stand it, that stuff on me, eating me a alive..." A deep shudder runs through his massive frame, making it clatter and clank like a giant set of out of tune wind chimes.
Ratchet lets his hand rest once more on Ironhide's shoulder. "I'd never let that happen." He assures.
Ironhide puts his hand over Ratchet's own, gratefully. "I know." He makes a throat-clearing sound. "This is just between you and me, right? If you relay a single byte of this information to anyone, I... Well, I wouldn't like it too much," he finishes lamely.
Ratchet grins. "Of course I wont say a thing." He says. "I do need to keep some blackmail on you." He winks to let Ironhide know he's teasing.
Ironhide emits a snorting laugh, showing that he feels a bit better. "Oh, so that's how this works, huh? I guess I'll just have to keep my audios open for any juicy tidbits about you, Mister Snarky CMO."
Ratchet laughs along with him. "and just what kind of things would you listen for?" He asks. "I talk to no one who would betray my trust. All you will hear is the normal base gossip."
Ironhide hums thoughtfully, "Well, they say gossip contains a grain of truth, so it's worth a look, even if it takes some deconstructing." He lets his huge, articulated fingers drum on the table he is still half leaning on. "I guess I'd pay attention to what you were doing on your time off, who you were spending time with, who was shamelessly flirting with you..."
Ratchet blinks. "Why would you care about that?" He asks. His hand tightens fractionally against his shoulder.
Ironhide ducks his head to hide a smile. "Oh I care very much about that," he purrs in that deep, rough, dark chocolate voice of his. "Since one of the mechs doing it is me..."
Prowl nods. He turns away momentarily to fetch his empty cup. "I need to visit the lounge anyway. My lowgrade was stolen."
Ratchet feels his fuel pump stutter in surprise before beginning to pound. "Wh-what?"
Ironhide continues innocently along as if Ratchet hadn't spoken, a playful, yet predatory smugness teasing the edges of his words. "Of course the other guilty party is that slagger Fractal, which is one of the reasons he smelts my lugnuts so Primus-damned much, though I can't fault his good taste. Of course I've since learned he has a lover, which means..." he trails off, giving the CMO a sidelong glance to see the impact of his speech.
Ratchet inhales air sharply into his intakes. "'Hide, you...?" He looks away. He could scarcely hope that Ironhide was suggesting what his CPU was insisting that the black mech was hinting at.
Ironhide nods, leaning in closer to whisper in Ratchet's audio. "Which means I'm the only one who is serious..."
Ratchet shivers. "You are?" He says just as softly. Please, Primus. The medic thought. Don't let this be a joke.
Ironhide reaches out with one of those big, clumsy-looking fingers, and, with surprising gentleness, traces down the side of Ratchet's face. "Very... serious..."
Ratchet leans into Ironhides touch and sighs contently. "Thank, Primus." He mumbles without thinking.
Ironhide sees Ratchet's response and sighs a deep, happy sigh, letting his finger move under the medic's chin, grazing along sensitive wiring beneath the jaw. "I'm the one who should be thanking Primus," he whispers. "I thought you were going to throw me out."
Ratchet shivers at the sensations Ironhide is causing with his words and touch. "No, no. I certainly don't want to throw you out."
Ironhide turns around to more fully focus on the appealing form of the green mech before him gazing deeply into the other's optics and cupping that unique face between his two large hands. "I never thought..." he whispered, "someone like me, who takes mechs apart, and someone like you, who puts them back together... Primus," he shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, staring at Ratchet, hopelessly, helplessly enthralled.
Ratchet brings his hands up and covers Ironhide's hands. "Maybe that's exactly why. Two sides of the same coin, as the humans say." He smiles. His fuel pump is pounding and his CPU feels hazy. Everything that's happening seems so unreal. Is he really having this conversation with Ironhide?
Ironhide rumbles in agreement, leaning his forehead against the other mech's, optics going off momentarily as he savours the contact. His air intakes are becoming more rapid, the breath he exhales more heated. His hands, held against Ratchet's face by the CMO's own, begin to tremble subtly. "If we are two sides of the same coin," he breathes raggedly, "then I think that makes you my better half."
Ratchet chuckles. He squeezes Ironhide's hands comfortingly. ""Hide, I never knew you could be so...sweet?" He teases. Still chuckling, he leans closer enjoying the contact.
Ironhide grunts. "I'm not sweet, I'm old and salty and mean, and you know it." Gently he slips his hands from beneath Ratchet's and slides them down the medic's face and neck, skimming across his shoulders and down the length of the powerful yet elegant green armoured arms.
Ratchet shudders as the black mech's hands travel over him. "'Hide..." He glares lightly at him.
Prowl watches the door for a few moment, pondering an actual split between those two, before wandering away in search of a little lowgrade and some quiet, since his office clearly wasn't providing any.
Ironhide whispers back softly. "Ratchet... I'm broken without you... put me back together," his voice a needful plea.
Ratchet felt his knees weaken and suddenly he was on the floor looking up at Ironhide. "Ironhide, I-" He trails off and just stares. What can he say when he feels like he is falling apart after those words?
Ironhide startles as the medic drops out of his grip and onto the floor, clearly not used to having - or expecting to have - that effect on anybody. He crouches down, looming over Ratchet, his whole form shaking. "Tell me you want this," he begs, "if you don't, I'll leave, just tell me..."
Ratchet shuts his optics and whimpers. He's been worked to the edge of exhaustion, nearly killed, and never, never has he felt this weak. "'Hide, Please..." He pleads as he reaches up and lets the fingers of one hand caress Ironhide's face.
Ironhide 's optics offline and he leans fiercely into Ratchet's caress, almost grinding his face against the gentle hand that touches it, moving his head up and down, causing the digits to travel, sliding against his dermal plating. "Please what?" he growls, optics still offline. "Please yes? Please no? Tell me."
Ratchet snaps his optics open and gives him a heated stare. "Primus, yes!" He half shouts, half groans.
Ironhide plunges against the medic with a desperate moan, sliding his brawny arms under the other's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of the tempting green neck, where the heated air from his intakes rushes furiously against sensitive wiring. His huge form is wracked with deep shudders, as though his very structure is unsound. "Ohhhh Ratchet..." he pants, clinging desperately to the bot beneath him. "Yes..."
Ratchet wraps his arms around the mech on top of him and pulls him as close as he can, shivering as heated air tickles and teases his neck. He whimpers and tilts his neck to allow more parts to be teased. His hands are not idle as they skim across the black mech's back, finding crevasses and sensitive parts. "Mmm," He sighs against Ironhide's Audios.
Ironhide rises up slightly, pushing against the caresses on his back, then drops his head once more to begin mouthing at the wires already sensitized by his heated breath. Bracing himself on his elbows, he lifts Ratchet's upper body with his considerable strength, holding him more tightly against the ceaseless, frantic working of his lip components, forcing him to feel every inescapable instant of touch.
Ratchet moans and throws his head back to allow for better access. "Oh, Primus, 'Hide." He groans. "That feels slagging good." His hands tighten briefly on a fuel line, before smoothing it apologetically and moving down to the aft he'd watched so many times.
Ironhide growls against Ratchet's neck at the brief pinch of his fuel line, the pain only seeming to heighten his enthusiasm for the task he has set himself. He begins working gentle, teasing bites down around the base of the medic's neck before working up to give a similar treatment to the other side, unconsciously rocking the body he cradles, gently and tenderly, despite the savage searchings of his mouth.
Ratchet clutches Ironhide to him as he's rocked deliciously against the larger mech's body. One hand leaves it's place and travels down 'Hide's thigh, dragging against the plating before digging inside to tease wires and servos. But it isn't enough contact. He moves his head so he can kiss the shoulder that he can reach, occasionally nibbling on a wires or jutting piece of armor. Inside his chest his engine begins to rumble, sending vibrations throughout his frame.
Ironhide stiffens at the feeling of the mouth now teasing and nibbling at his shoulder, and the hand working its magic on his leg. He begins to work his biting caresses further down Ratchet's body, slowly lowering the smaller mech back to the ground as he does so, fingers and lip components now paying worshipful attention to the medic's chest, particularly the area of his front hood in vehicle mode, and the sensitive housings around the headlights.
Ratchet arches into Ironhide's nibbling kisses and cried out. His hands were forced to relinquish their hold when he shifted, but they quickly found new places to tease. He brought one hand up to caress the black helm, playing with along the ridges, and the other sneaked to the other shoulder and followed his mouth's example.
Ironhide purrs deep in his vocalizer, enjoying the sight and sound of how his touches are affecting the mech beneath him, and feeling stimulated by the caresses he receives in return. His engine begins to rev as well, a darker, richer purr filled with promised pleasure.
Ratchet whimpers as the vibrations become stronger. "Ironhide!" he moans as he writhes beneath the large mech. "Please." His engine whines as he tries to press closer to the one driving him insane. He needed for Ironhide to do something, anything, but tease him.
Ironhide pulls back onto his knees and transforms one of his arms, flipping his cannon up into firing position and charging it. The huge weapon whines and oscillates as it powers up, huge amounts of heat causing the air to shimmer as it emerges from the vents. It is with this extension of himself that he caresses the prone medic now, sending excruciatingly delicious heat and stronger, almost destructively powerful vibrations into the trembling green body beneath him, shaking himself as he does so. His deep blue optics blaze brighter with passion, with the exquisite, dangerous edge of what he is doing, using this weapon of death to bring pleasure, and, in a sense, life.
Ratchet roars in pleasure as his body is tortured by the vibration and heat from a cannon that could end his life. But he doesn't care how dangerous this is, oh he'll scold Ironhide after, but it feels so fragging good right now he cant even think straight. "Son of a glitch!" He cries. His spark pulses in rhythm with his fuel pump as his systems begin to overheat. Warnings flash across his HUD but are ignored. All he can do is writhe and pray that his lover will have mercy on him. "Please." He finally pleads.
Ironhide is noticeably cycling air much, much faster at the sight of his partner obviously so close to losing control. Shoulders heaving, he retracts his cannon and throws himself to the ground groaning, grabbing Ratchet and rolling the other bot atop him even as he tears open the locks on his armour to reveal his spark, the sound of complaining metal suggesting that a few minor repairs (that Ratchet will no doubt delight in scolding him about) will be required later. But right now all he cares about is the fact that his naked spark aches to find it's companion in the other, the pulses almost cripplingly strong and bright.
Ratchet is surprised by the sudden reversal of positions, but he doesn't complain as he stares at his lover's newly exposed spark. Reverently, he lets one hand ghost along the blue glow, careful not to touch the Spark beneath. "'Hide." He whispers softly. This is more than he could have hoped for. As he unlatches his armor, his optics catch Ironhide's and Slowly, he lowers his Spark down, pressing it against the Spark he yearns for.
Ironhide bucks sharply at the first contact of spark on spark, his carefully controlled facade exploding into millions of shards of razor sharp, pure, unadulterated pleasure. "OH, PRIMUS, RATCHET!!!!!" The howl tears itself from deep within his vocalizer, sounding like it should leave the hardware broken in its wake. The huge black mech bucks further, arms seizing the medic and crushing him tight against his chest as his back arches in an overload that is stunningly, savagely, brutally sweet.
Ratchet swear he feels his CPU melt at the first contact of their Sparks and Ironhide's pleasured cry does nothing to help his melting CPU. "IROHIDE!" He screams as he feels his own overload sweep through him and through their connected Spark's Ironhide's release as well. His back arches pressing him almost impossibly close to the clinging mech as he rides the waves of their shared passion.
Ironhide begins to relax slowly, and subsides back to the floor, still clutching the medic against him, twitching with the pleasant aftershocks of their coupling. His chest heaves as his cooling systems run themselves ragged, bringing his over sensitized spark in and out of contact with the one it had so recently and intimately touched.
Ratchet fell lax against Ironhide's chest. the hissing of cooling hydraulics filled the air as his body frantically tried to cool down. "'Hide." He murmured lovingly as he pressed his face into his lover's neck and basked in the after glow of their lovemaking. Occasionally, he would shiver or quietly moan as their Sparks came close together.
Ironhide gently rubs Ratchet's back, emitting a series of deep and shuddering sighs of satisfaction in between his cooling gasps of air.
Ratchet sighs against the other mech's neck. "That was...spark-flickering." he gasps out.
Ironhide makes a throaty rumble of agreement. "Indeed... Oh Primus... I didn't think I had that in me after all this time. It has," he admits, "been a very, very long time for me."
Ratchet nods. "For me as well." He confides. "But it was better than I remember. Much better." He hums contently and lays his head on Ironhide's shoulder.
Ironhide gives an answering hum, sounding a bit smug. "I am glad." He is quiet for a moment, and his tone turns serious once more. "You... It's never been like this with anyone else, I never did those things, I never wanted anyone so much as I want you..."
Ratchet smiles. "I've never been quiet so submissive before." He says. "I trusted you with myself and I have never done that with any other lover, I've had, few though they've been." He tightened his arms around Ironhide.
Ironhide tightens his grip as well. "I want you to always feel that safe with me. I never, ever want to hurt you. I only want to make you feel the most amazing pleasure I possibly can."
Ratchet shivers at his tone. "I'll keep you to that promise." he says softly. "And I'll always be there to put you back together again."
Ironhide lifts his head slightly to give Ratchet a curious look. "Does that mean you want to do this again?" he asks hopefully.
Ratchet smirks and gives him a heated look. "Of course." he purrs.
Ironhide looks up at the ceiling with the biggest, goofiest grin a robot can get. "Thank you, Primus!"
Ratchet laughs and smacks his chest playfully. "Primus had nothing to do with it." he huffs, but his optics glow with happiness.
Ironhide: "I am sure he's smiling on us, nonetheless," Ironhide murmurs, ignoring the smack. "So do you want to stay on the floor and wait for new patients to come in and see us, or shall I escort you to somewhere where we can recharge?"
Ratchet chuckles. "My quarters are closer." He answers.
Ironhide nods. "Not that I mind if anyone sees us. I'm actually very proud to be found worthy of your attentions. Very, very proud."
Ratchet caresses his face. "I don't care either, but I think we need to preserve what little sanity the troops have." he says wryly, as he imagines two certain mech's faces if they saw them.
Ironhide purrs. "I suppose you're right," he says, sounding a little disappointed. "So, if we would like to make progress towards your quarters to save the fragile optics and mental states of our troops, you will, eventually, have to get off me."
Ratchet sighs because he's quiet comfortable, but he gets up on shaking legs.
Ironhide gets rather unstably to his feet as well, and slips his arm around the medic, to give and receive support in what is sure to be a very drunken-looking promenade to the CMO's quarters.
Ratchet leans against Ironhide as they make their unstable way out of the medbay, weaving to and fro as they walk.
Ironhide holds his hand out as they start careening towards a wall. "Who's driving, exactly?"
Ratchet blinks. "Almost there, and I thought you were." he teases.
Ironhide chuckles. "Me? I guess I had better do my duty then."
Ratchet laughs. "The second door to the right." he says as they come to several doors. He keys in the code and stumbles inside.
Ironhide follows, slamming against the doorframe on his way in. "Well, I had promised to get you cratered," he laughs, seeing their shared uncoordinated movements, "but this was a much better way to get you falling on your aft."
Ratchet snorts as he collapses onto his recharge berth and opens his arms motioning for Ironhide to join him.
Ironhide crawls gratefully into the arms of his new lover, sighing a hugely contented sigh.
Ratchet smiles and wraps his arms tight around his lover. "Mm, night, 'Hide." He whispers as he presses close to the black mech.
Ironhide rumbles in a happy, yet exhausted voice. "Goodnight."
...