RP log: Ironhide and Ratchet's second time
Ironhide makes his way into medbay, peeking around the corner to see if it is occupied first. As he steps inside, a new clatter can be heard, offsetting the regular, deep clanking of his steps. His enthusiasm tearing his armour open has come back to haunt him. One panel hangs slightly crooked, the locks no longer wishing to completely close.
Ratchet looks up from a medical data pad he is reading and glares at Ironhide. "Well, I see you've finally decided to come and let me fix that." He says sternly, but with a fond tinge to it.
Ironhide ducks his head, having the grace to look embarrassed. "I just didn't have the spark to bother you when I got up today, you looked so peaceful, and I was already late for an appointment. Prowl wanted me to see about disciplining Fractal for shooting Gunner."
Ratchet smiles and beckons Ironhide closer. "let me take a look at that." He says fondly.
Ironhide comes closer. "Aren't you going to ask me what I did to him?" he asks, mischievously.
Ratchet grins. "Knowing you I'm sure it was cruel and unusual," He teases.
Ironhide chuckles, "I took him to the firing range and..." he lets the rest of the sentence hang ominously unfinished.
Ratchet raises an optic ridge. "Oh?" He reaches for Ironhide and steers him to sit on a berth. "Am I going to have to repair him later?"
Ironhide continues. "...I made him replace all the drained power cells in ever single training pistol we had in storage," he finishes smugly. "I figure since the infraction involved a gun he might as well become intimately acquainted with them. He wasn't familiar with the maintenance of the model of pistol we use for training, so he actually learned something too. I figure it was better than my first idea, which was throw him in the training room with some drones set on suicide level and not let him out til he'd beaten my all time high score."
Ratchet laughs hard, making his hands shake. Luckily, he had not begun repairs yet. "'Hide." He tried to scold, but he just sounded to amused.
Ironhide looks pleased by the medic's reaction. "It's good to hear you laugh like that, you don't do it nearly often enough."
Ratchet continues to chuckle softly as he begins to put Ironhide's chest back together. "Only for you." He says and places a kiss on the part he just repaired.
Ironhide dims his optics at the gesture of affection. "Do that again and you'll have a repeat performance on your hands," he purrs, voice husky.
Ratchet shivers in delight at Ironhide's words and the tone that they had been said with.
Ironhide shivers in return, the frissons of his lover's chassis being enough to set off a chain reaction in his own. "You can add that to the list as well," he replies, optics turning off completely as he tries not to move beneath those skillful, gentle hands.
Ratchet tries not to let his lover affect him as he continues to make sure he hasn't missed anything, but in the end his hands wander over the black chassis teasingly.
Ironhide: "Mmmm..." Ironhide groans helplessly, "is this part of your treatment, Doctor?"
Ratchet chuckles. "I have to make sure that everything is in working order." he replies huskily.
Ironhide arches into the teasing caresses. "Are you thinking..." he gasps, "I need... putting back together, again?"
Ratchet revs his engine. "Oh I'm sure there's something else in you that needs repairing. " He purrs. "I just have to find it." Searching fingers find away under armor to tease wiring and circuitry.
Ironhide falls back fully onto the berth, helpless beneath those questing fingers. "Oh Primus, you're going to break something if you keep that up..." he pants, air intakes beginning to speed up. "Please don't stop..."
Ratchet growls. His engine rumbles louder. Primus, did Ironhide have any idea how he looked splayed out with that look on his face? The medic moaned as he pressed his fingers deeper into Ironhide's searching for something to drive him wild with.
Ironhide 's head rolls from side to side mouth wide open in a grimace of need, massive fingers grabbing the edges of the berth in a fevered grip until they are creaking, on the verge of breaking from his focused strength. Primus, the feeling of those hands... "Unnnnh!" he groans, as deep inside his own engine rumbles to impassioned life.
Ratchet 's intakes hiss as they fight to bring in enough air to cool his systems. "Oh, 'Hide." He groans as he finally finds a fuel line and caresses it. His lips press against that massive chest as he rubs and strokes anything he can get his fingers on. "You had your turn to fry my circuits last night, now I'll return the favor." He moans.
Ironhide 's shudders at the caress on his fuel line, remembering how good it felt when it was accidentally squeezed the night before. "Please, yes..." he begs, "harder..."
Ratchet smirks at the reaction that got. Tightening his hands slightly, Ratchet laves the chest before him with nips and kiss. "Anything you want..." He promises.
Ironhide growls, writhing on the berth, on the one hand trying to get closer, and on the other, by virtue of his grasping hands, holding himself back. His body moves in an anguished rhythm of rapture, of self-imposed almost-bondage, and desperate need. "Give me everything..."
Ratchet removes his hands regretfully and ghost them up Ironhide's chest. His kisses moved up the broad chest to rest against Ironhid's. "Open up for me." He orders roughly before pressing their lip components together and ravaging his lover's mouth as his hands glide along above where Ironhide's Spark rests.
Ironhide gasps at the hand tracing above his spark, which is already so sensitized at the mere presence of the one it craves so much. He complies with the demand, trembling as he opens himself completely before the mech he desires above any other. He moans softly as his spark is bared, as if the touch of the very air itself on this most hidden part of him is more than he can take.
Ratchet shudders and gasps. "Mine." He moans heatedly. His own chest opens to reveal his Spark. One hand caresses his lover's Spark before moving rest on the berth, racing him as he brings their chests together in one swift move. "AH!"
Ratchet: [bracing*]
Ironhide lets out a desperate, needful wail, voice slightly higher than normal and strained with passion. "Oh Ratchet," he pants, between the overworkings of his air intakes, "oh Ratchet... Primus..." With a metallic shriek, the edges of the berth give just enough that there will be a nice row of finger marks on either side, forever marking this spot as one where passion had been shared.
Ratchet pants as he tries desperately to hold still. "Uhn, this is too good...Oh!" His arms give out and he falls flush against Ironhide, their Sparks centimeters from each other's. "Ironhide!" He keens as his systems red line, his body coming closer to overload.
Ironhide: "Uhhhh! Ratchet..." Ironhide turns his head slightly, pressing his lip components against the side of the medic's face, which has now fallen into accessibility. His arms, shaking and palsied from being under the constant strain of gripping the edges of the berth, come up around the beloved green form in a fragile embrace before stroking their trembling, reverent way down the broad and intricate back.
Ratchet moans in delight and turns his head to capture those teasing lips. His frame trembles as those massive paws run oh so gently down his back. He arches shoving them even closer and cries out. His optics flicker and go out from the pleasure.
Ironhide moans shamelessly into Ratchet's mouth at the feeling of another set of lips intimately touching his own, feeling the touch of gorgeous, heated breath against his sensitive facial components. His hands slide further down the body they worship, and reverence becomes ardency as they clasp and cup and explore that fantastically touchable aft so often prominently displayed as the medic bends to tend to his patients.
Ratchet mewls into Ironhide's mouth as his aft is skillfully manipulated. Primus, no one had ever done that to his aft. He almost can't believe that there are pleasure receptors there.
Ironhide deepens his explorations, searching out individual components with his fingers, a fuel line here, a muscle cable there, a cluster of wires. He uses his grip on the delightful aft to shove the medic further upwards on his body, bringing their sparks into closer alignment before parting the green thighs, pulling them up to straddle his waist allowing access to the lower part of Ratchet's aft and cables deeper in the hips and thighs. He works his fingers as far in as they will go without causing damage, and caresses the hidden secrets he finds there.
Ratchet howls in pleasure and arches back lifting himself off of Ironhide before slumping violently against his love's Spark. "IRONHIDE!" He cries as his systems hit their peak and he overloads, his body writhing against the black mech's as pleasure crackles through him.
Ironhide: "SLAG!" Ironhide roars as the feeling of his lover's completion washes over him from their joined sparks, he arches upwards, clinging desperately to that wonderful aft and bucking with each new profanity that escapes his strangled vocalizer. "PRIMUS SMELTING SLAGGING PIT-SPAWNED GLITCHING... RATCHET!" His lover's name emerges on a ragged edge of circuit-searing desperation as his own overload strikes.
Ratchet 's engine whines as it's pushed to the limits, his cooling system kicks in desperately trying to cool his raging systems. He sputters nonsense into Ironhide's shoulder as he's subjected to his overload and Ironhide's. Finally, the mind numbing sensations begin to die down and he is left to tremble helplessly against his lover's hulking frame.
Ironhide falls back on the berth, causing it to creak slightly under the combined weight of himself and the shuddering mech atop him. His chassis echoes the tremors of the one above, and a whirring noises adds itself to the sound of his rapidly cycling air intakes as somewhere deep within him a fan switches on.
Ratchet groans wearily, he is still tingling all over. "You are never leaving my berth." He purrs.
Ironhide rumbles a tired laugh. "Don't worry, I don't seem to be capable of doing so."
Ratchet chuckles. "Mmm, we're going to get in a habit of using the medbay for our trysts if we're not careful." He says humorously.
Ironhide removes his hands from their admittedly enjoyable placement, to begin caressing the medic's back in slow, lazy circles. "We had better not, if we want to avoid traumatizing the troops, as you suggested last night. I had intended to invite you back to my quarters, or myself back to yours, if you would have me... but once you started touching me... Primus, I may never look at repairs the same way again."
Ratchet grins. "Mmm, next time we'll move." He promises, though he isn't sure his self-control could get them away from the bay next time.
Ironhide shakes his head, giving Ratchet a gentle squeeze. "I thought I heard footsteps in the hallway earlier, but I was too far gone to care. I hope I was mistaken."
Ratchet rumbles in amusement. "I have little care. It'll teach the slaggers to stay out of trouble and away from the medbay." He teases.
Ironhide: "Or see two old mechs go at it like petro-rabbits?" Ironhide chuckles. "That is an amusing way to keep the population healthy, you should take the idea to Prime."
Ratchet throws his head back and laughs loudly at the image of Prime's face should he do it.
Ironhide snorts. "No, somehow I don't think it would be a good idea either."
Ratchet buries his face in Ironhide's shoulder and continues to laugh until he's shaking with mirth.
Ironhide smiles and pets the medic soothingly as he laughs. "Come on, it's not that funny."
Ratchet shakes his head. He's helpless to stop his laughter. "I-I can't stop." he gasps out.
Ironhide makes a nervous sound. "Are you malfunctioning?" What would he do if that is the case, with a glitching medic on his hands who happens to be the only medic currently around?
Ratchet focuses eyes on Ironhide's face and suddenly has an idea for how to stop his laughter. Swiftly, he presses their lips together, ending his laughter. "There all better." He says as he pulls back.
Ironhide follows Ratchet's lips with his own as the medic pulls back too soon for his liking, then gives up with a tired groan and falls back on the table. "Tease," he mutters.
Ratchet chuckles and curls up beside Ironhide, his chest closing over his Spark as he did. "And know you know how I felt when you flirted with me and left me unsure if you were fooling around or not."
Ironhide grumbles and closes his own chest. "I was never anything but sure of what I was doing. It's you who obviously didn't think you were desirable enough that I would seriously attempt to court you." He wraps his arm around his lover. "Which is something I intend to remedy with as much interfacing as possible."
Ratchet shivers. "That's a promise you had better keep." The yellow bot purrs.
Ironhide: "Just try and stop me," Ironhide purrs back.
Ratchet smirks. "Stop you?" He asks huskily. "If you even think of not keeping your promise, I'll chain you to my berth."
Ironhide rolls over onto his side and nuzzles his face into Ratchet's neck. "Now why, would I fail to keep the promise of all the interfacing he can handle to the most desirable mech in the entire universe?"
Ratchet grunts. "I don't know." He hums. "But just incase you do, you know exactly what your in for." The medic rubs his dermal plating over Ironhide's face and sighs contently.
Ironhide echoes the sigh happily. "I'm utterly terrified," he says insincerely, a twinkle in his optics.
Ratchet tries to frown, but a grin over takes his face. "You'd better be." He growls playfully.
Ironhide "Oh I am," he agrees. "The other Autobots will see you walk by and say 'Look, there goes the only thing to ever terrify old Ironhide, and isn't he a lucky mech to be terrified by someone with such a great aft.'"
Ratchet playfully smacks Ironhide's aft. "You're incorrigible." He says mock indignantly.
Ironhide purrs, the smack having quite the opposite effect, proving that he is indeed as incorrigible as his lover claims. "And yet you keep trying to correct me, that's what fascinates me so."
Ratchet glares. "If I wasn't so slagging tired I'd teach you a lesson, but mmmm I think a little recharge is in order." He says tiredly and buries his face in Ironhide's chest.
Ironhide pokes the medic. "Err, Ratchet, do you think recharging here is wise?"
Ratchet grumbles. "Let them catch an opticful. We're only sleeping for Primus's sake."
Ironhide chuckles. "Maybe we should just both move our quarters in here and be done with it. I've already marked this berth as ours," he says, fingering the dents he made earlier in the throes of passion.
Ratchet chuckles softly as he begins to shut down. "Don't think Prime would approve."
...