Think you have seen my insanity?
My next to last entry was grumbling at my muses for not giving me anything. I had a nice, longokayso it was short talk with Jazz-muse, and he demanded I write smut in exchange for continuing my other storylines. --;; I like writing smut, couldn't you tell? but I've been wanting a bit of a break from it, thankyouverymuch. Then Jazz had to pounce over one idea in particular, and he whirled it around making me twitch and presented an intriguing idea.
I've been working on this idea since Monday(?), and I have to admit it was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
See, I've been wanting to try out the different sex methods found within the Transformers fandom. I've crossed a few of them off my list (seamprobing, sparksex a little, interfacing what else have I done? O.o). But one I've never been quite sure how to handle was sticky. (I know, I know). --;; I didn't quite expect it to turn out like this.
Title Hidden by Armor
Characters/Pairing Prowl/Sideswipe (oh come on! whatcha expect? They do seem to be volunteering for experimenting, bad bad PiSSy)
Warnings Perhaps the worst thing I've done is to butcher(and I mean BUTCHER) Prowl's character, part of that can be explained as 'It's before the battle computer has been installed', but the rest.... well that's all Okami's craziness, then there's also the (mechanical) sticky, the (brief) self-stimulation, the (brief) oral stimulation.... am I forgetting anything?? oh and the fact that this is fairly PWP(maybe the second half makes up for it....).
Part Two (also PWP)
Sideswipe batted at the muck that clung to his joints. He just wanted to lay down and slip into recharge. He hoped to Primus that Prowl wasn’t still online. The tactician normally only waited up for Sideswipe if the day had been particularly stressful and Prowl desired relief. The red mech didn’t mind that, but not tonight. He was filthy. He was exhausted. And that was the farthest thing from his mind.
He could avoid it by bunking in Sunstreaker’s room. He didn’t care-at this point-if it would mean he’d have to recharge on the floor, he’d even be willing to curl up under his brother’s berth. But to do so would deny him one of the privileges of having an officer for a lover.
Private washracks.
He did not feel up to joining the rest of his patrol in the showers and listening to them chatter.
Almost without thinking his legs carried him to Prowl’s quarters and he absent-mindedly punched in the code to open the door. He stepped into the dimlit room, his gaze automatically sweeping and scanning for any discrepancies in the layout.
His optics lingered on the black and white form of his lover. One doorwing stood at a relaxed angle from Prowl’s shoulder. Sideswipe knew that the only way for Prowl to be comfortable while recharging was to lay on one side or the other, or else those enticing panels got in the way. One knee tucked forward, revealing a curve to Prowl’s hip that normally remained hidden by thick armor. Sideswipe lingered on the delicious part of the grey lips, the graceful fingers cradling a slim cheek.
Sideswipe tore his gaze away with some difficulty. He headed for the room connected to the main quarters and into the stall. He activated a flow of the strong cleanser, with a special signal on a specific channel. He turned the pressure up to its highest and deactivated his optics, basking in the simple pleasure of solution pounding against his armor. He stood there for several breems, turning so that the liquid could reach the crevices on his back. He leaned against the wall, moaning as several sensitive seams received a stimulating pounding.
He remembered when that beautiful body had danced under the lights of Terslon. The light glimmering off a paint bluer than the cobalt sky. Arms flung in the air, feet stepping lightly. Those graceful hips had swept designs in the air that made his circuits sing.
His fingers idly stroked at a leg panel, crossing over to trace a seam up his inner thigh, drawing a throaty moan from his vocalizer. His exhaustion faded to a dull pulse, overpowered by the surges in his circuits. He took the bristled brush down and began to scrape at the stubborn muck that had stuck in his joints.
He remembered when that voice had lilted like a sparrowcorder. The words spilling out in a light cadence that could rival even Jazz’s musical speech.
He worked at his arms, the bristles a pleasant pain on his sensors. His hands stroked his torso armor, continuing the surging teasing of the shower. He lifted a hand to his lips, stroking lightly as he pushed the brush along his thigh. His intakes suddenly started, the coolant in his systems unable to work alone as the surges heated his systems. The brush scraped across his groin cover, and energy rushed through that sensitive area, bringing forth a response from the hardware underneath.
He remembered nights spent in each other’s arms, where only they existed on the whole of Cybertron; twined together like a braided cord.
He panted in the steaming shower, rubbing at the junctions of his hips and thighs. He moaned through his closed lips, clutching the brush handle, and scouring his groin cover again.
The hardware hidden beneath the plating abruptly came fully online, and he hissed as it scraped across the covering. He snapped his optics open, command lines running across his vision as he attempted to shut the program down. He finished his shower quickly, no longer loitering about so as not to bring that particular system online.
He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to override it again.
Megatron changed all of their plans, and Prowl had left, determined to make a difference.
Sideswipe almost hadn’t recognize his former lover when they’d crossed paths again. A hardness had set into Prowl’s face that had never been there before, and that was only the least of the changes.
He strode out of the washroom, intent on the recharge his body told him he needed. He found his gaze remaining on the tactician longer than necessary. He climbed over the long thighs…
His hand pausing to stroke the thick plating…
He gently shifted the black and white panel out of the way, placing a kiss on the soft covering. He draped an arm over the curved waist, pressing up against the smaller frame. Recharge pulled at him, but something else yanked harder; characterized by the surge from his covered hardware.
He shuttered his optics, denying his sensors a visual of his desire.
Prowl shifted, scraping against painfully sensitive areas.
Sideswipe hissed, snapping his optics open as Prowl moved again, sliding back-against the red mech. He was painfully aware of the tactician’s desirable litheness, contoured against his own frame.
Automatically, his hand caressed down Prowl’s torso plating, stroking the black covering that hid what he desired. He nuzzled close to the neck, kissing the layer of seamless metal that protected vital fuel and powerlines. He pulled the black hips toward his own, grinding against the firm metal. He wriggled his other hand underneath Prowl, gripping his lover tightly and moaning through his dental plates.
Metal squealed as Sideswipe slid a tense hand up the tactician’s side. He traced the edge of the black bumper, running his fingers over the clasps that held the chestplate in place. Then he splayed his hands on the tactician’s torso, and smoothed his way down to the luscious thighs. He covered the alluring neck with his mouth, lapping and nipping at the sensitive metal, digging his fingers into the seams of the white legs.
Prowl gasped, intakes starting up in a sudden rush. Sideswipe detected the soft hum of optics powering on, and he could see the glow reflected off the white helm.
“Sideswipe?”
For the briefest of astroseconds, the red mech’s programming stalled at the deep timbre of that soft voice. It took a moment to recall the present.
Sideswipe slid up his lover’s back, reaching up to turn Prowl’s head. He covered the tactician’s mouth with his own, his glossa caressing the edges of the other’s lips. Prowl stared up at him, blinking in rapid succession. The warrior moaned plaintively, pulling his lover snug against him; one leg crossing over Prowl’s, and sliding between the tactician’s own legs.
Prowl’s lips parted with a startled gasp and Sideswipe invaded the open mouth with lusty vigor. He reached again for the clasps holding the chestplate in place. The tactician writhed in his grasp, the upright doorwing swinging back to strike Sideswipe’s shoulder. Prowl whimpered as the red twin tightened his legs’ hold around the tactician’s waist.
“Not here.” Prowl spoke over a private channel, pushing Sideswipe’s arms down. “Oh Primus, please don’t do this here.”
Sideswipe didn’t stop ravishing his lover’s mouth, his glossa sweeping in to entwine with Prowl’s, his lips scraping and pressing; drawing delightful whimpers from the tactician’s vocalizer.
“We’re in a code green. I don’t think anyone’s going to charge in demanding your attention.” He pulled at the clasps, fingers trembling with the effort it took not to simply rip the chestplate off.
Prowl squirmed in his arms; movements sensuous against sensitive plating. Sideswipe pulled away from the kiss, clutching at Prowl’s hips to continue the pressure against his groin.
“And you want me to stop?” His voice rose in pitch, as the tactician’s crotch squirmed against the warrior’s calf trapped between the white thighs.
Metal scraped against the berth as Prowl slid away, laughing. “You did stop.”
Black hands grabbed at the black and white doorwings that were pulling away. “You’re slick as rusted iron. Get back here.” He pulled, gently, against the hinges; his thumbs stroking light circles on the white paint. Then he grabbed Prowl’s shoulders and hauled him back. A squeak burst from the tactician’s vocalizer as Sideswipe straddled the armored waist.
“Sideswipe…”
Sideswipe silenced his lover with a crushing kiss.
“You teased yourself in the showers again, didn’t you?”
He tugged at the chestplate, refusing to answer that accusation, working his fingers under the edges to reach all the latches. He moaned at the sweet scent of lubricant as it finally began coating Prowl’s mouth. His glossa burned as he came into contact with the solution, answered by the surge at his groin. He fought for control over the program that was threatening to come online, pulling away from his lover’s lips to pant as data scrolled past his HUD.
Prowl scraped white fingers down the warrior’s red chestplate, pushing and petting at the same time. “Nnh Sideswipe…” Suddenly the tactician’s legs wrapped around Sideswipe’s waist, shoving him down. They ground against each other, panting and writhing; lips brushing light caresses across heated metal.
Black fingers clawed at the final catches holding the chestplate.
“Nn not here,” Prowl moaned, optics dark with arousal; legs still held tightly around Sideswipe, “please, not here.” The words came out in a throaty whisper, vocalizer glitching at conflicting signals.
Sideswipe trembled, maintaining control solely by that whispered refusal. “Don’t make me stop, Prowl.” He gazed into his lovers blue eyes, systems surging with desire. “I want you,” he breathed against the grey lips. “I want all of you.”
The officer whined-panting-vocalizer hitting pitches it was never designed for. “Sides…” Slim fingers clutched at the warrior’s arms, neither halting nor acceding; desire conflicting with fear of discovery.
Sideswipe leaned down to gently kiss his lover, begging in that single motion.
Prowl suddenly released Sideswipe’s arms, hands cupping the black cheekguards that framed the twin’s face. The tender kiss turned passionate, lips sliding against one another, glossa flicking out to tease along the edges.
Sideswipe grew dizzy from the intoxicating scent permeating Prowl’s lips. Richer than the highest grade of energon; he wanted to be covered in that sweet smell, and bask in its slickness. He moaned, gripping the chestplate tightly before tossing it (and the torso armor attached to it) to the side.
He pressed against the soft, moldable metal found underneath the tactician’s armor, rubbing his hands over sensor-filled mounds. He pulled away, drawing a whine from Prowl as he abruptly ended the kiss. He stared down at the most damning evidence on Prowl’s perfect body. “Primus,” he breathed. A soft sound from the tactician drew his gaze.
“You always act so surprised.” White hands reached up to cover the grey chest.
“I always forget how beautiful you are under that disguise.” He moved a hand away, so that he might kiss the exposed breast. He cupped the mound, drawing the sensor node at its peak into his mouth, his glossa running lightly over the knob.
Prowl’s legs tightened around him, and her arms wrapped around his head. She gasped, clutching at his audio horns, knees drawn up almost into a neat little ball. Her ventilator whirred within her chest, sending vibrations coursing through the breast, against his glossa, stimulating him nearly into overload without true relief. Surges through his groin testified how ready the program was to come back online.
He panted, moving to attend the other sensor node on the opposite breast; pawing at the one he’d left, fingers running along the concave base. He reached up to sweep a kiss over Prowl’s lips, and she held him there; probing his mouth with her glossa, leaving faint traces of lubricant that drove Sideswipe mad.
His hardware came online, surging and ready.
Prowl continued her assault, pressing against him, legs rubbing delectably over his backside. The lubricant in her mouth still burned, and he knew she wasn’t ready yet.
He wanted her so badly.
He shook with desire, groping her breasts, stimulating them, encouraging the further mixing and production of the lubricant. “Prowl…”
Finally she pulled away, mouth moist, optics flickering with the energy surges. “Let me sit up. My doors…” The timbre of her voice falling into more natural ranges, ones he recalled as clear as day.
He pulled her up, scooting back to avoid being struck by the wing panels. She followed him on her hands and knees, her doorwings bobbing with the motion. He froze as he watched her sidle up to him, her optics a blue so dark they were almost black. She kissed him, resting her hands on his shoulders, only to press him back and straddle his hips.
“No fair,” both her voice and engine purred as she pulled at his chestplate. “I’m all bare and you’re still armored.”
He managed a laugh, stroking her thighs lovingly. “Here I thought you’d want to-hn- finish, so you can cover back up.” He groaned as she wriggled her hips over his. “Primus, I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
She leaned down, doorwings tilted back and slipped her glossa into his mouth. He bucked under her, surging hardware scraping under the covering; the taste of her lubricated glossa sending eddies through his circuits that culminated in his groin and the pulsing shaft there.
He scraped his hands over her breasts, rubbing over the sensor knobs. Then he worked at the latches at her hips, kissing her back as he pulled the armor off, bit by bit. She moaned against his lips, rubbing her hands over his upper arms; cupping the mag plates set in his shoulder armor. Each caress left him panting and bucking against her; wanting more, wanting completion.
"I love you," he murmured when she kissed down his jaw.
Prowl paused, optics narrowed and dark. "I love you, too." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before trailing down to his waist. Deft fingers made short work of the impeding armor, adding the pieces to the slowly growing pile. Sideswipe worked at his chest plate, but only had it halfway unclasped when something moist caressed his twitching hardware.
He gasped, clutching at the armor in his hands. The moist object swept across the tip of his shaft, leaving a thin layer of residue behind. Sideswipe reached down, gripping the tactician's chevron. Her glossa continued it's teasing of his surging rod. He clinched her shoulders with his thighs, pressing his knees together at each lick. His vocalizer crackled as he groaned. He felt the metal of the chevron buckle under his fingers, and Prowl's keening whimper vibrated through his hardware.
Prowl took the shaft into her mouth, her glossa reaching down its length as far as she could reach. Her dental plates scraped pleasantly against him as she pressed down; taking more and more of him in. The lubricant in her mouth smeared all over his hardware, and she used her fingers to spread it down to his hilt. The lubricant felt slick and warm on him.
With a final lick Prowl lifted her head, crawling back up to kiss his lips. She straddled his hips, rubbing her groin over his ready shaft.
He thrust up, fondling her breasts, his vision fritzing.
Then she settled over him, and he slid into her, his lubricated shaft gliding into her receptive port without any friction. Her optics flickered with each of his stabbing bucks. Her hips rocked obligingly, her intakes working in panting bursts as he kept stimulating her sensor nodes. She moved on top of him, drawing herself up and down his length.
He gripped her waist, driving himselft deeper into her port. He grunted, energy surging through his vocalizer. He rose to his elbows, kissing and licking at the base her neck. He teased his glossa along her jawline until he reached her lips. He delved into her mouth, and she slid her glossa along his.
Suddenly she pulled away laughing, his chestplate in her hand, and then it clanged to the floor. He moaned as she caressed his chest, even though he didn't have the rounded sensors that she did. He captured her lips again, reaching around to caress her black and white door panels.
She whimpered, rocking against him, her breasts brushing his chest. They moved together, his shaft scraping against the plug recessed at the back of her port. He connected, and energy surged through them both.
They wailed, defunct hardware conflicting with modern protocols. It was painful. It was delightful.
Had it really been vorn since they last connected in this fashion. Sure they used methods more commonly employed by same-gendered couples, but nothing beat the feeling of completion that came with the use of their reproductive hardware.
“Mmmm, ssleepy,” She gently disengaged, curling up at his side, still-armored leg resting over his thigh. “I'd forgotten how nice that was,” she murmured, sweeping a kiss over his cheek guard.
He nodded wordlessly, previously forgotten exhaustion coming back full force; he felt himself shutting down for recharge.
He heard her systems wind down, her intakes working softly before they, too, turned off.
Peace settled around them, in them. For a time, they were able to forget that they were at war.
~*~*~*~*~
Feet pounding down the hall brought them suddenly online. Blue optics locked in brief alarm before they both scrambled to gather their armor up and latch it back place.
Prowl worked at a feverish pace, her optics bright with panic, and she only just managed to close the last clasp when the door swished opened and Jazz burst in.
“Prowl, Decepticons're...” he paused taking in Sideswipe's bare chest. His visor flashed. “Uh, sorry, if I-uh....The Decepticons....”
“Jazz,” the tactician's voice was once again the deep timbre suited to a mech, “it's okay. The Decepticons are prone to inconveniencing us.” Prowl smiled at Sideswipe, touching a hand to the red twin's shoulder, before she pulled Jazz out of the room. “What's the situation....”
Sideswipe threw himself back onto the berth, the near-miss leaving him weak and shaking.
Protocols established in a time before the Firewall Institution Act kept any femme from leading a unit of mechs. It was one of many attempts to control a vastly overpopulated planet. That hadn't stopped his lover from chafing at the restrictions placed upon femme units and deciding she was best needed in the ranks of mechs.
When Sideswipe transferred to Top Gun's unit, his reputation preceded him and no one expected him to get along with the infamously strict executive officer. After his welcoming lecture, Prowl had surprisingly(or perhaps, not surprisingly) sought out the notorious prankster and taken Sideswipe to his office.
One slim finger rested against Sideswipe's chestplate. “I know you.” Blue optics flashed, though the stern face remained impassive.
Sideswipe regarded the tactician coolly. “I'm not surprised, most officers know of me.”
The grey lips unexpectedly curved into a small smile, though the blue optics remained apathetic. “No, Sideswipe, I know you.” The tactician's head tilted in a familiar manner. “After all, hadn't we spent evenings planning ways to sneak into the Haltherion Gardens to see their volmunic blossom display. .
That gave the red twin pause.
Prowl was not a terribly uncommon name, it was neutral enough to be used by both mechs and femmes, and suited many different temperaments. For this to be his Prowl had been so improbable that he hadn't even processed the possibility. Prowl, his Prowl. But he saw her. In the way she held herself, and her doorwings; the smile that tugged at her lips. It was
In all the time they'd been separated, his love for the femme had never faded, and he'd been eager for the day when they would be reunited; after the war was over.
He wrapped the tactician up in a fierce hug, unwilling to say anything under the watchful gaze of the security cameras. They arranged to meet later in Prowl's quarters
They both were cautious, though, uncertain of whether the other still felt the same after all this time.
Prowl had explained that she had altered her appearance as much as she legally could. She even had a secondary vocalization system installed, since it was too chancy to simply adjust her own.
They spent time together, whenever their duties permitted, much to the surprise of the entire unit. There were the expected suspicious grumbles that Prowl was treating Sideswipe special, until the red twin had been thrown into the isolation cell for a few decacycles.
Then the complaints quieted, even if they didn't halt altogether.
He and Prowl had been cautious about where they performed a complete interface, normally choosing to leave the base and find somewhere secluded.
Sideswipe sat up, reaching for his chestplate. Prowl had managed to keep her secret for nearly a megavorn before Sideswipe showed up. They'd only been reunited for a hundred vorn, and had too many near discoveries.
He had to think of something better to hide their secret. Or else, she would be found out, and transferred to a femme unit(losing her commission in the process); separating them for another megavorn, or longer.
He pulled his rocket launcher out of subspace, and fitted it to his shoulder mount.
He would protect Prowl.
He would keep anyone from discovering her secret.
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So, um..... Badbadbadbad!!Okami? ^^;;;;;;; Feel free to throw tomatoes... probably deserve them for that.....
Feel free to tell me how horrid this is.
Edit: Something freaky happened with the formatting of the story in the second half. O.o Fixed it.