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wyntir_knightTitle: Lessons in Seduction
Verse: G1
Characters: Smokescreen/Sideswipe
Word Count: 3516
Rating: M
Summary: Sideswipe makes Smokescreen an offer, but is it as altruistic as it seems or is there an ulterior motive at work?
Author's Notes: This was written for the prompt "Smokescreen/Sideswipe - Clueless"
Smokescreen sat back casually in his chair and folded his hands on his crossed legs. Outwardly he was calm and collected but internally he was inside he was reeling.
“I’m sorry, you what?” he asked, a small smile carefully sliding into place as he considered Sideswipe and his offer.
“I think I was pretty clear,” Sideswipe replied, his own smile managing to be both innocent and predatory at the same time.
Smokescreen had to admit that the frontliner was good, almost as good as the psychologist was himself. After all, it took a lot to catch Smokescreen flatfooted, and yet somehow Sideswipe had managed it.
“How about you humour me and spell it out,” the Datsun said flatly. Oh yes, he had heard the words but that didn’t mean that he fully understood what it was that Sideswipe wanted. Not really.
Sideswipe stood and began to walk around the room, coming up behind Smokescreen and gently running his fingers over the edge of Smokescreen’s door.
“I’m a curious mech,” the Lamborghini said. “My brother and I have done a lot but, surprisingly we’ve never been with a Praxian. You all tended to be so very … insular.”
The last was said with a near-purr as his fingers traced over the 38 emblazoned on his door. Smokescreen had to fight back a shiver, but he didn’t quite manage to stop his door from pressing into Sideswipe’s hand.
“We both know that’s smelter slag, Sideswipe,” Smokescreen said, trying and failing to keep the rising lust from his voice. “It’s not a very well-kept secret that Bluestreak has spent more than a few nights with the two of you. So try again. We both know that I’m not your type, so why the sudden interest?”
“Why do you care?” the Lamborghini asked as he came around to face Smokescreen straddling the Datsun’s lap, careful not to bear down with too much weight. “I mean, do you really need an excuse for this beyond curiosity?”
With Sideswipe where he was, Smokescreen couldn’t easily pull away without forcing the Frontliner off, and that would potentially lead to a fight. And there was no way that Smokescreen was in anyway a match for the big mech in such close quarters.
“I care because this is out of character for you, Sideswipe,” Smokescreen said carefully. “And technically you’re my patient so even if you did want to do this, there are ethics to consider.”
Sideswipe made a rude noise and rested his arms on the Datsun’s shoulders, leaning in with a predatory smile. “Now who’s tossing smelter slag? You and ethics aren’t exactly on a first name basis, Smokey. So what’s the issue? You’re here, I’m here, and Primus knows I’m ready and willing, so what’s problem?”
Sideswipe didn’t wait for an answer, he closed the slight distance between them and captured Smokescreen’s lips in a searing kiss.
Smokescreen wanted to freeze, wanted to push the red Frontliner away. Logically he knew this was all kinds of wrong, both ethically and morally. But Sideswipe was good and it had been way to long since Smokescreen had been with anyone. He found himself returning the kiss and pressing up into the Lamborghini with an almost blind need. The fact of the matter was, regardless of true reasoning, Smokescreen did want to give himself over.
“I knew you wanted this as much as I do,” Sideswipe whispered against Smokescreen's lips as he drew his fingers down the Datsun’s wings and over the sides of his hood.
Smokescreen’s hands moved of their own accord, skimming over those massive red shoulders, his smaller fingers dipping into transformation seams and skipping over the angles and edges of the heavy armour.
It would be so very easy to lose himself in this moment, let himself go and just take what Sideswipe was offering. Primus knew he could feel his spark heating up and his field reach for a connection. But at the same time both the psychologist and the con-artist side of his personality refused to let go.
“Why are you doing this?” Smokescreen asked, resting his hands on Sideswipe’s chest and pushing him away slightly. “You could go to anyone you wanted. I’d almost be tempted to say that quite literally. I’m not your type and you’ve made it quite obvious in the past that you aren’t interested. So why the sudden change? What are you getting out of this?”
Sideswipe pulled back with a sigh of irritation.
“You’re a fragging idiot, you know that?” he snapped. “What is it with you tacticians? You keep refusing to just shut down and feel! I mean, yeah, fine you weren’t obviously on my radar before but that doesn’t mean that I don’t notice. Now just accept and give in, will you?”
“Give in?” Smokescreen snapped, losing all composure and shoving Sideswipe off his lap. “Frag you, you arrogant slagger! Regardless of whatyou might like to believe you are not some kind of sex-god and you can’t just take whatever you want whenever you want it!”
Sideswipe sighed in irritation as he picked himself up off the floor. “For a shrink you really are damned clueless, Smokey,” he snapped.
Smokescreen’s anger cooled slightly as confusion took over his thoughts. His normally silent doors fluttered against the chair as he leaned forward.
“Uhm, what?” he asked, knowing that he sounded idiotic.
“You. Are clueless,” Sideswipe growled. He closed in on the psychologist and pinned him to the chair with his arms. “It's clear to everyone who isn't a moron that there's something wrong. And I'll bet good money that your issue's that you haven't gotten laid in forever. I was trying to help you out. Primus knows it seems to be your go-to prescription for the rest of us!”
Smokescreen cycled his optics in a confused blink. “Wait ... hold on. You were trying to seduce me?”
“What do you mean, trying?!” Sideswipe snapped, pride clearly injured by the slight.
Smokescreen arched his chevron and settled back in the chair. There was a certain amount of power to be found in this new situation and the psychologist couldn't help but revel in it a little.
“You decided that the best way to make me feel better was to come in here, fabricate a ridiculous story about what you wanted, and then tell me to 'lie back and enjoy it'? Either I've grossly underestimated this crew or you’re very much off your game, Sides.”
“What?” Sideswipe’s flat reply and flashing optics spoke volumes toward his irritation with the entire situation.
Smokescreen took an instant to process the situation. The Lamborghini wanted something and had decided that seduction was the way to go about getting it. Unfortunately he seemed to have no grace and finesse for subtler aspects of the game. But at the same time, that kiss had been diode-blowing and it was a well-known fact that Sideswipe was one of the best lovers on the Arc. Would it really be such a bad thing to take a dose of his own medicine and offer the younger mech a lesson at the same time?
Decision made, Smokescreen reached out and took the Frontliner’s hand in his own, small blue fingers lacing with large red ones. With a gentle nudge to Sideswipe he stood, doors up and flared back in open invitation. With another light touch he manoeuvred the large mech to the patient’s couch. “What’s going on here, Sides? You’re as much a con artist as I am and you know that brute attacks won’t work on me. So what’s the deal?”
“It’s just what I said. There’s clearly something bothering you but I figured if I came in here and just offered you a frag you’d kick me out right away and I wouldn’t get anything out of this.”
Smokescreen sat down beside Sideswipe and ran his free hand up the Lamborghini’s arm, coming to rest against one shoulder wheel.
“That’s what I’m talking about. ‘You wouldn’t get anything out of this’,” he said, gently. “What were you hoping to get out of this? After all, we both know that if this was just a quick lay you’d turn to any number of other bots before coming to me. So you need to come clean and tell me what you’re hoping to get out of this.”
Sideswipe cocked his head to the side, a slight grin crooking up his lips.
“I guess that curiosity won’t cut it. So how about this; I don’t want my brother and I having to report in to a sketched out shrink when one member of the brass or another decides that we’re being too violent or uncontrolled in battle.”
“So what?” Smokescreen asked, arching his chevron slightly. “You figure you try to seduce me and then I give you and your brother a clean bill of mental health next time you both come in?” There was no incrimination in his tone, just genuine curiosity as he continued to caress the tire and wheel well in Sideswipe’s shoulder.
“No,” the Lamborghini replied, voice thickening slightly with lust. “No, I just know that you can’t do your job if you don’t de-stress. I don’t know what you’ve done in the past, but I can see that you’re not doing a whole lot lately. Even your poker’s been off. Pit! You lost to Fireflight last week, and I saw the look on your face when it happened. It wasn’t one of your ego-boost losses.”
Sideswipe’s free hand came up to rest against Smokescreen’s side and his other tightened gently around Smokescreen’s fingers.
“I want to help,” he said softly as he leaned forward slightly, his field licking out to lightly brush Smokescreen’s. “And yeah, I figure I’ll get a good zap in the process, but mainly, I don’t like seeing you like this.”
Smokescreen processed the Frontliner’s words, analyzing both them and the body language. The touch of Sideswipe’s field felt genuine and the desire was clearly there, but at the same time, the Lamborghini was just as much of a con artist as Smokescreen himself was, and there was a good chance that this was all some kind of elaborate prank or an attempt at blackmail.
“You’re overthinking this, Smokey,” Sideswipe murmured. Realizing that the psychologist was going to refuse to make a decision, the red mech leaned in and kissed Smokescreen’s shoulder.
Smokescreen shivered into the touch before finally deciding to go with it. Either this was a con or it wasn’t. Either way he’d deal with the repercussions after. With a slight nod he laid back on the couch, hands coming up to trace over Sideswipe's chest, but there was still some hesitation there.
“You’re still analyzing, mech,” Sideswipe murmured as he ran his glossa up the Datsun’s neck, stopping only to suckle lightly on the main power line. “You need to let go and let yourself feel.”
“You sound like an old partner of mine,” Smokescreen whimpered, his hands spasming slightly on the edges of Sideswipe's hood, catching and tracing the transformation seams.
“That partner was right and you talk too fragging much.”
The Lamborghini hooked his arms under Smokescreen’s legs, lifting and pulling the Datsun further down on the couch. He captured Smokescreen's lips in a searing kiss as one hand came down to cup the hot interface panel.
“Open up,” he whispered. “Open up and let me in, Smokescreen.”
The psychologist could do nothing more than moan in response as he finally gave himself over fully to the other mech. It had been far too long since he'd let go and the years of tight control were leaving him unable to keep up with the skilled Frontliner.
His port cover slid aside and he arched up with a cry as Sideswipe ran one large finger over the port and cable within.
“Sides! ... oh frag! ... PLEASE!” The last word rose to a keen of pure lust and need.
Smokescreen was lost to the sensations as his cable was drawn out and the tip expertly rolled between red fingers. Sideswipe slowly moved down Smokescreen's body, stopping to lathe his glossa over headlights and drop madness-inducing kisses along bumper and midriff. All Smokescreen could do was clutch mindlessly at Sideswipe's shoulders and arms as his doors flapped uselessly under him.
“Please Sides! Stop. Teasing!” he cried out, his hands closing tightly around the Lamborghini's shoulders.
Sideswipe chuckled as he brought the tip of Smokescreen’s cable to his lips, glossa flicking out to tease the tip lightly. His free hand closed around the Datsun’s hip in an attempt to keep him still.
“I know I’m good, Smokes, but you’re thrashing around like this is your first time,” Sideswipe murmured as he continued to tease the end of that oh so sensitive cable.
“I’m a new-build, you slagging tease!” Smokescreen snapped as he tried to twist and flip their positions. “I spent a few million years on a data crystal, remember?”
Sideswipe laughed lightly as he easily held the smaller mech down but his kiss was surprisingly tender. “And yet you’ve been online for what? Going on five years now? I never would have taken you for the celibate type, Smokey.” His tone turned serious, fingers brushing lightly over the obviously unused port. “You sure you want to do this? With me, I mean?”
“You know full well I have no issues with saying no. If I wanted to stop this I would have well before this,” he said tightly. He placed one hand on Sideswipe’s port while kissing him with a needy intensity. “Now will you frag me already?”
Sideswipe chuckled deep in his chest as his field expanded to brush over Smokescreen’s. With surprisingly gentle fingers, Sideswipe continued to work at the Datsun’s port, ensuring that the connection would be as smooth as possible.
“Sides …,” Smokescreen tossed his head and arched up into the Lamborghini, fully losing himself to the sensations. “Oh primus! Please Sides!” Smokescreen’s voice became pleading and desperate as he lost himself to the sensations.
His fingers scrabbled over Sideswipe’s port as he tried to force the connection and end the teasing. Unfortunately, the Lamborghini had other plans. He moved back down Smokescreen’s body, finally settling over his port. His glossa flicked out and began to lick at the Datsun’s interfacing port. Instantly Smokescreen arched up with a static-filled keen as he was consumed by his first proper overload in this new body.
Sideswipe breathed in the smell of ozone and revelled in the residual electricity as it skipped across the Datsun’s overheating body.
He moved back up Smokescreen’s body, capturing the psychologist’s lips in a needy and possessing kiss. Without giving him any time to recover, Sideswipe plugged his cable home, swallowing Smokescreen’s cry as the virgin port was put to its first use. As soon as the connection was completed, data packets started to fly at the speed of thought and Smokescreen’s spark reached out to finish the loop. Sideswipe responded as best as he could, but without his brother there, there was a stutter in the connection.
“Twins … right,” Smokescreen murmured before increasing and changing the flow of his spark energy. He had been involved with far too many hesitant and outright broken mechs in his past, and he knew exactly how to make up for Sunstreaker’s absence. He allowed his energy to spin out and embrace Sideswipe, filling in the gaps like putty. It was no replacement, but it was a good facsimile at least.
“Smokey!” Sideswipe gasped out as he thrust his field into Smokescreen’s, revelling in the strange feeling of mock-completeness.
The world seemed to spin and dance around them as they almost consumed each other with their own greed and need for more. Voices rose in a lust filled song of names, and curses, and desperate pleas to a deity neither was sure existed.
Finally an explosion of mutual climax consumed them and they tumbled into overload and darkness.
---
Sideswipe came online first, his arms automatically tightening slightly around Smokescreen. At some point he had rolled them both over and now the Datsun lay partially across Sideswipe’s chest, his doors relaxed and loose against his back. According to his chrono, they had been offline for almost an hour, bringing them close to the end of the session he had scheduled with Smokescreen. With a delicate touch, he unhooked their ports, put his cable back in its housing, and then returned to cuddling the smaller mech close. There was something surprisingly comfortable about the position and he wanted to linger as long as he could.
“Smokes? You need to online. We don’t want to get interrupted here,” Sideswipe whispered. He was loathe to wake the Datsun but the facts were that Smokescreen probably had another patient scheduled and the last thing they needed was the rumour mill chewing on this tidbit. And the fact of the matter was, they were likely going to have to talk this out before he left.
Smokescreen’s optics flickered and a small, pleased smile pulled at his lips. For a moment he looked genuinely comfortable. No false façade, no ploy, no con; just Smokescreen laid bare. Then as quickly as the look appeared it was gone, replaced by narrowed optics and mistrust.
Sideswipe loosened his arms and allowed the Datsun to pull away slightly but never releasing him enough to run.
“Let go of me,” Smokescreen said in a tight voice as he quickly put his equipment away. “Session’s over and I’m sure that you have places to be.”
“Still got a few minutes by my count,” Sideswipe replied as he sat up and allowed Smokescreen enough slack to sit on couch opposite him, never let go enough for the Datsun to run. “And I think that we need to talk about this, right? I mean, you’ve gone glitchy so clearly you’re not okay with all this.”
Smokescreen seemed about to protest and argue that he was fine, but the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t. Playing into Sideswipe’s game earlier had been fine, and the interfacing had been wonderful, but now logic was taking over and he found himself on uneven ground.
“You never did adequately explain what you wanted out of this, Sideswipe,” he said in a controlled tone, only the barely perceptible shiver of his doors betraying his emotions. “I’ve propositioned you in the past and you’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m not your type. So what’s changed?”
Sideswipe shrugged slightly. “I changed my mind?”
The response sounded lame in his own audios and he knew that Smokescreen wasn’t about to buy it.
“Changed your mind from ‘Not if you were the last mech available’ to a pity zap on my couch? That’s quite the change,” Smokescreen said, ice forming around every word.
Sideswipe flinched as his words were thrown back at him. He finally let go of the other mech and pulled back slightly.
“Look, never mind,” Smokescreen said before Sideswipe could reply. “All I want to know is what you’re getting out of this? What’s the angle? When can I expect the blackmail to start?”
Sideswipe’s optics cycled in a rapid blink as he stared at Smokescreen. “Blackmail? Why would you …” Sideswipe trailed off and shook his head. “There’s no blackmail. What I said before is all there is to it. You and I were cut on the same assembly line and I hate to see you fading like you were. But I guess I can see why you’d think the worst. After all, I turned you down when you propositioned me because I figured there was an angle too.”
Smokescreen looked in Sideswipe’s optics, analyzing his words and running the possible angles and meanings through his battle computer. Finally he looked away and his doors seemed to nod slightly.
“Okay. Say I believe you. What now? What happens next?” he asked slowly. “I can’t exactly have it out there that I’m sleeping with a patient.”
A grin split Sideswipe’s face as he leaned forward. “Sleeping with? That mean this isn’t a one-time deal then? ‘Cause if it isn’t, well it’s not like it’s anyone’s business. And if it does come to it, I’m sure we can call it ‘therapy’. All sorts of definitions and methods out there, right?”
Smokescreen made a rude noise but didn’t quite manage to hide the amused smirk.
Suddenly Sideswipe spun and lay back, resting his head on Smokescreen’s lap.
“You gotta help me doc!” he cried melodramatically. “I’m losing my touch. I think I might need a sex therapist to show me the ropes again!”
At that Smokescreen laughed out loud at the Lamborghini’s antics. “All right, fine! I give. There are angles we can play with this. Fine.” He leaned in and placed an upside down kiss on Sideswipe’s lips. “And I will admit I had fun, so maybe we can see how this plays out.”
Sideswipe returned the kiss, only pulling away when his chrono informed him that the session was officially over.
“I should go,” he said quietly. “We can talk this over more next week?”
“Why wait? Smokescreen asked, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he stood and held a hand out to Sideswipe. “You were my last session for the day, and I think that if we don’t want anyone to know what we’ve been up to we need to wash each other’s paint off. And luckily for both of us, I happen to have a private wash rack in my quarters.”
With that he turned and walked toward the door at the back of his office, the door that led to his personal quarters. As he moved, his doors swayed invitingly.
“Come on, mech,” Smokescreen said, his voice a low and sultry purr. “How about I start your first lesson with how to properly go about seducing a mech?”
“Oh I’ll show you properly,” Sideswipe growled as he launched himself after the Datsun, catching him just as they reached the recharge chamber.
Verse: G1
Characters: Smokescreen/Sideswipe
Word Count: 3516
Rating: M
Summary: Sideswipe makes Smokescreen an offer, but is it as altruistic as it seems or is there an ulterior motive at work?
Author's Notes: This was written for the prompt "Smokescreen/Sideswipe - Clueless"
Smokescreen sat back casually in his chair and folded his hands on his crossed legs. Outwardly he was calm and collected but internally he was inside he was reeling.
“I’m sorry, you what?” he asked, a small smile carefully sliding into place as he considered Sideswipe and his offer.
“I think I was pretty clear,” Sideswipe replied, his own smile managing to be both innocent and predatory at the same time.
Smokescreen had to admit that the frontliner was good, almost as good as the psychologist was himself. After all, it took a lot to catch Smokescreen flatfooted, and yet somehow Sideswipe had managed it.
“How about you humour me and spell it out,” the Datsun said flatly. Oh yes, he had heard the words but that didn’t mean that he fully understood what it was that Sideswipe wanted. Not really.
Sideswipe stood and began to walk around the room, coming up behind Smokescreen and gently running his fingers over the edge of Smokescreen’s door.
“I’m a curious mech,” the Lamborghini said. “My brother and I have done a lot but, surprisingly we’ve never been with a Praxian. You all tended to be so very … insular.”
The last was said with a near-purr as his fingers traced over the 38 emblazoned on his door. Smokescreen had to fight back a shiver, but he didn’t quite manage to stop his door from pressing into Sideswipe’s hand.
“We both know that’s smelter slag, Sideswipe,” Smokescreen said, trying and failing to keep the rising lust from his voice. “It’s not a very well-kept secret that Bluestreak has spent more than a few nights with the two of you. So try again. We both know that I’m not your type, so why the sudden interest?”
“Why do you care?” the Lamborghini asked as he came around to face Smokescreen straddling the Datsun’s lap, careful not to bear down with too much weight. “I mean, do you really need an excuse for this beyond curiosity?”
With Sideswipe where he was, Smokescreen couldn’t easily pull away without forcing the Frontliner off, and that would potentially lead to a fight. And there was no way that Smokescreen was in anyway a match for the big mech in such close quarters.
“I care because this is out of character for you, Sideswipe,” Smokescreen said carefully. “And technically you’re my patient so even if you did want to do this, there are ethics to consider.”
Sideswipe made a rude noise and rested his arms on the Datsun’s shoulders, leaning in with a predatory smile. “Now who’s tossing smelter slag? You and ethics aren’t exactly on a first name basis, Smokey. So what’s the issue? You’re here, I’m here, and Primus knows I’m ready and willing, so what’s problem?”
Sideswipe didn’t wait for an answer, he closed the slight distance between them and captured Smokescreen’s lips in a searing kiss.
Smokescreen wanted to freeze, wanted to push the red Frontliner away. Logically he knew this was all kinds of wrong, both ethically and morally. But Sideswipe was good and it had been way to long since Smokescreen had been with anyone. He found himself returning the kiss and pressing up into the Lamborghini with an almost blind need. The fact of the matter was, regardless of true reasoning, Smokescreen did want to give himself over.
“I knew you wanted this as much as I do,” Sideswipe whispered against Smokescreen's lips as he drew his fingers down the Datsun’s wings and over the sides of his hood.
Smokescreen’s hands moved of their own accord, skimming over those massive red shoulders, his smaller fingers dipping into transformation seams and skipping over the angles and edges of the heavy armour.
It would be so very easy to lose himself in this moment, let himself go and just take what Sideswipe was offering. Primus knew he could feel his spark heating up and his field reach for a connection. But at the same time both the psychologist and the con-artist side of his personality refused to let go.
“Why are you doing this?” Smokescreen asked, resting his hands on Sideswipe’s chest and pushing him away slightly. “You could go to anyone you wanted. I’d almost be tempted to say that quite literally. I’m not your type and you’ve made it quite obvious in the past that you aren’t interested. So why the sudden change? What are you getting out of this?”
Sideswipe pulled back with a sigh of irritation.
“You’re a fragging idiot, you know that?” he snapped. “What is it with you tacticians? You keep refusing to just shut down and feel! I mean, yeah, fine you weren’t obviously on my radar before but that doesn’t mean that I don’t notice. Now just accept and give in, will you?”
“Give in?” Smokescreen snapped, losing all composure and shoving Sideswipe off his lap. “Frag you, you arrogant slagger! Regardless of whatyou might like to believe you are not some kind of sex-god and you can’t just take whatever you want whenever you want it!”
Sideswipe sighed in irritation as he picked himself up off the floor. “For a shrink you really are damned clueless, Smokey,” he snapped.
Smokescreen’s anger cooled slightly as confusion took over his thoughts. His normally silent doors fluttered against the chair as he leaned forward.
“Uhm, what?” he asked, knowing that he sounded idiotic.
“You. Are clueless,” Sideswipe growled. He closed in on the psychologist and pinned him to the chair with his arms. “It's clear to everyone who isn't a moron that there's something wrong. And I'll bet good money that your issue's that you haven't gotten laid in forever. I was trying to help you out. Primus knows it seems to be your go-to prescription for the rest of us!”
Smokescreen cycled his optics in a confused blink. “Wait ... hold on. You were trying to seduce me?”
“What do you mean, trying?!” Sideswipe snapped, pride clearly injured by the slight.
Smokescreen arched his chevron and settled back in the chair. There was a certain amount of power to be found in this new situation and the psychologist couldn't help but revel in it a little.
“You decided that the best way to make me feel better was to come in here, fabricate a ridiculous story about what you wanted, and then tell me to 'lie back and enjoy it'? Either I've grossly underestimated this crew or you’re very much off your game, Sides.”
“What?” Sideswipe’s flat reply and flashing optics spoke volumes toward his irritation with the entire situation.
Smokescreen took an instant to process the situation. The Lamborghini wanted something and had decided that seduction was the way to go about getting it. Unfortunately he seemed to have no grace and finesse for subtler aspects of the game. But at the same time, that kiss had been diode-blowing and it was a well-known fact that Sideswipe was one of the best lovers on the Arc. Would it really be such a bad thing to take a dose of his own medicine and offer the younger mech a lesson at the same time?
Decision made, Smokescreen reached out and took the Frontliner’s hand in his own, small blue fingers lacing with large red ones. With a gentle nudge to Sideswipe he stood, doors up and flared back in open invitation. With another light touch he manoeuvred the large mech to the patient’s couch. “What’s going on here, Sides? You’re as much a con artist as I am and you know that brute attacks won’t work on me. So what’s the deal?”
“It’s just what I said. There’s clearly something bothering you but I figured if I came in here and just offered you a frag you’d kick me out right away and I wouldn’t get anything out of this.”
Smokescreen sat down beside Sideswipe and ran his free hand up the Lamborghini’s arm, coming to rest against one shoulder wheel.
“That’s what I’m talking about. ‘You wouldn’t get anything out of this’,” he said, gently. “What were you hoping to get out of this? After all, we both know that if this was just a quick lay you’d turn to any number of other bots before coming to me. So you need to come clean and tell me what you’re hoping to get out of this.”
Sideswipe cocked his head to the side, a slight grin crooking up his lips.
“I guess that curiosity won’t cut it. So how about this; I don’t want my brother and I having to report in to a sketched out shrink when one member of the brass or another decides that we’re being too violent or uncontrolled in battle.”
“So what?” Smokescreen asked, arching his chevron slightly. “You figure you try to seduce me and then I give you and your brother a clean bill of mental health next time you both come in?” There was no incrimination in his tone, just genuine curiosity as he continued to caress the tire and wheel well in Sideswipe’s shoulder.
“No,” the Lamborghini replied, voice thickening slightly with lust. “No, I just know that you can’t do your job if you don’t de-stress. I don’t know what you’ve done in the past, but I can see that you’re not doing a whole lot lately. Even your poker’s been off. Pit! You lost to Fireflight last week, and I saw the look on your face when it happened. It wasn’t one of your ego-boost losses.”
Sideswipe’s free hand came up to rest against Smokescreen’s side and his other tightened gently around Smokescreen’s fingers.
“I want to help,” he said softly as he leaned forward slightly, his field licking out to lightly brush Smokescreen’s. “And yeah, I figure I’ll get a good zap in the process, but mainly, I don’t like seeing you like this.”
Smokescreen processed the Frontliner’s words, analyzing both them and the body language. The touch of Sideswipe’s field felt genuine and the desire was clearly there, but at the same time, the Lamborghini was just as much of a con artist as Smokescreen himself was, and there was a good chance that this was all some kind of elaborate prank or an attempt at blackmail.
“You’re overthinking this, Smokey,” Sideswipe murmured. Realizing that the psychologist was going to refuse to make a decision, the red mech leaned in and kissed Smokescreen’s shoulder.
Smokescreen shivered into the touch before finally deciding to go with it. Either this was a con or it wasn’t. Either way he’d deal with the repercussions after. With a slight nod he laid back on the couch, hands coming up to trace over Sideswipe's chest, but there was still some hesitation there.
“You’re still analyzing, mech,” Sideswipe murmured as he ran his glossa up the Datsun’s neck, stopping only to suckle lightly on the main power line. “You need to let go and let yourself feel.”
“You sound like an old partner of mine,” Smokescreen whimpered, his hands spasming slightly on the edges of Sideswipe's hood, catching and tracing the transformation seams.
“That partner was right and you talk too fragging much.”
The Lamborghini hooked his arms under Smokescreen’s legs, lifting and pulling the Datsun further down on the couch. He captured Smokescreen's lips in a searing kiss as one hand came down to cup the hot interface panel.
“Open up,” he whispered. “Open up and let me in, Smokescreen.”
The psychologist could do nothing more than moan in response as he finally gave himself over fully to the other mech. It had been far too long since he'd let go and the years of tight control were leaving him unable to keep up with the skilled Frontliner.
His port cover slid aside and he arched up with a cry as Sideswipe ran one large finger over the port and cable within.
“Sides! ... oh frag! ... PLEASE!” The last word rose to a keen of pure lust and need.
Smokescreen was lost to the sensations as his cable was drawn out and the tip expertly rolled between red fingers. Sideswipe slowly moved down Smokescreen's body, stopping to lathe his glossa over headlights and drop madness-inducing kisses along bumper and midriff. All Smokescreen could do was clutch mindlessly at Sideswipe's shoulders and arms as his doors flapped uselessly under him.
“Please Sides! Stop. Teasing!” he cried out, his hands closing tightly around the Lamborghini's shoulders.
Sideswipe chuckled as he brought the tip of Smokescreen’s cable to his lips, glossa flicking out to tease the tip lightly. His free hand closed around the Datsun’s hip in an attempt to keep him still.
“I know I’m good, Smokes, but you’re thrashing around like this is your first time,” Sideswipe murmured as he continued to tease the end of that oh so sensitive cable.
“I’m a new-build, you slagging tease!” Smokescreen snapped as he tried to twist and flip their positions. “I spent a few million years on a data crystal, remember?”
Sideswipe laughed lightly as he easily held the smaller mech down but his kiss was surprisingly tender. “And yet you’ve been online for what? Going on five years now? I never would have taken you for the celibate type, Smokey.” His tone turned serious, fingers brushing lightly over the obviously unused port. “You sure you want to do this? With me, I mean?”
“You know full well I have no issues with saying no. If I wanted to stop this I would have well before this,” he said tightly. He placed one hand on Sideswipe’s port while kissing him with a needy intensity. “Now will you frag me already?”
Sideswipe chuckled deep in his chest as his field expanded to brush over Smokescreen’s. With surprisingly gentle fingers, Sideswipe continued to work at the Datsun’s port, ensuring that the connection would be as smooth as possible.
“Sides …,” Smokescreen tossed his head and arched up into the Lamborghini, fully losing himself to the sensations. “Oh primus! Please Sides!” Smokescreen’s voice became pleading and desperate as he lost himself to the sensations.
His fingers scrabbled over Sideswipe’s port as he tried to force the connection and end the teasing. Unfortunately, the Lamborghini had other plans. He moved back down Smokescreen’s body, finally settling over his port. His glossa flicked out and began to lick at the Datsun’s interfacing port. Instantly Smokescreen arched up with a static-filled keen as he was consumed by his first proper overload in this new body.
Sideswipe breathed in the smell of ozone and revelled in the residual electricity as it skipped across the Datsun’s overheating body.
He moved back up Smokescreen’s body, capturing the psychologist’s lips in a needy and possessing kiss. Without giving him any time to recover, Sideswipe plugged his cable home, swallowing Smokescreen’s cry as the virgin port was put to its first use. As soon as the connection was completed, data packets started to fly at the speed of thought and Smokescreen’s spark reached out to finish the loop. Sideswipe responded as best as he could, but without his brother there, there was a stutter in the connection.
“Twins … right,” Smokescreen murmured before increasing and changing the flow of his spark energy. He had been involved with far too many hesitant and outright broken mechs in his past, and he knew exactly how to make up for Sunstreaker’s absence. He allowed his energy to spin out and embrace Sideswipe, filling in the gaps like putty. It was no replacement, but it was a good facsimile at least.
“Smokey!” Sideswipe gasped out as he thrust his field into Smokescreen’s, revelling in the strange feeling of mock-completeness.
The world seemed to spin and dance around them as they almost consumed each other with their own greed and need for more. Voices rose in a lust filled song of names, and curses, and desperate pleas to a deity neither was sure existed.
Finally an explosion of mutual climax consumed them and they tumbled into overload and darkness.
---
Sideswipe came online first, his arms automatically tightening slightly around Smokescreen. At some point he had rolled them both over and now the Datsun lay partially across Sideswipe’s chest, his doors relaxed and loose against his back. According to his chrono, they had been offline for almost an hour, bringing them close to the end of the session he had scheduled with Smokescreen. With a delicate touch, he unhooked their ports, put his cable back in its housing, and then returned to cuddling the smaller mech close. There was something surprisingly comfortable about the position and he wanted to linger as long as he could.
“Smokes? You need to online. We don’t want to get interrupted here,” Sideswipe whispered. He was loathe to wake the Datsun but the facts were that Smokescreen probably had another patient scheduled and the last thing they needed was the rumour mill chewing on this tidbit. And the fact of the matter was, they were likely going to have to talk this out before he left.
Smokescreen’s optics flickered and a small, pleased smile pulled at his lips. For a moment he looked genuinely comfortable. No false façade, no ploy, no con; just Smokescreen laid bare. Then as quickly as the look appeared it was gone, replaced by narrowed optics and mistrust.
Sideswipe loosened his arms and allowed the Datsun to pull away slightly but never releasing him enough to run.
“Let go of me,” Smokescreen said in a tight voice as he quickly put his equipment away. “Session’s over and I’m sure that you have places to be.”
“Still got a few minutes by my count,” Sideswipe replied as he sat up and allowed Smokescreen enough slack to sit on couch opposite him, never let go enough for the Datsun to run. “And I think that we need to talk about this, right? I mean, you’ve gone glitchy so clearly you’re not okay with all this.”
Smokescreen seemed about to protest and argue that he was fine, but the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t. Playing into Sideswipe’s game earlier had been fine, and the interfacing had been wonderful, but now logic was taking over and he found himself on uneven ground.
“You never did adequately explain what you wanted out of this, Sideswipe,” he said in a controlled tone, only the barely perceptible shiver of his doors betraying his emotions. “I’ve propositioned you in the past and you’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m not your type. So what’s changed?”
Sideswipe shrugged slightly. “I changed my mind?”
The response sounded lame in his own audios and he knew that Smokescreen wasn’t about to buy it.
“Changed your mind from ‘Not if you were the last mech available’ to a pity zap on my couch? That’s quite the change,” Smokescreen said, ice forming around every word.
Sideswipe flinched as his words were thrown back at him. He finally let go of the other mech and pulled back slightly.
“Look, never mind,” Smokescreen said before Sideswipe could reply. “All I want to know is what you’re getting out of this? What’s the angle? When can I expect the blackmail to start?”
Sideswipe’s optics cycled in a rapid blink as he stared at Smokescreen. “Blackmail? Why would you …” Sideswipe trailed off and shook his head. “There’s no blackmail. What I said before is all there is to it. You and I were cut on the same assembly line and I hate to see you fading like you were. But I guess I can see why you’d think the worst. After all, I turned you down when you propositioned me because I figured there was an angle too.”
Smokescreen looked in Sideswipe’s optics, analyzing his words and running the possible angles and meanings through his battle computer. Finally he looked away and his doors seemed to nod slightly.
“Okay. Say I believe you. What now? What happens next?” he asked slowly. “I can’t exactly have it out there that I’m sleeping with a patient.”
A grin split Sideswipe’s face as he leaned forward. “Sleeping with? That mean this isn’t a one-time deal then? ‘Cause if it isn’t, well it’s not like it’s anyone’s business. And if it does come to it, I’m sure we can call it ‘therapy’. All sorts of definitions and methods out there, right?”
Smokescreen made a rude noise but didn’t quite manage to hide the amused smirk.
Suddenly Sideswipe spun and lay back, resting his head on Smokescreen’s lap.
“You gotta help me doc!” he cried melodramatically. “I’m losing my touch. I think I might need a sex therapist to show me the ropes again!”
At that Smokescreen laughed out loud at the Lamborghini’s antics. “All right, fine! I give. There are angles we can play with this. Fine.” He leaned in and placed an upside down kiss on Sideswipe’s lips. “And I will admit I had fun, so maybe we can see how this plays out.”
Sideswipe returned the kiss, only pulling away when his chrono informed him that the session was officially over.
“I should go,” he said quietly. “We can talk this over more next week?”
“Why wait? Smokescreen asked, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he stood and held a hand out to Sideswipe. “You were my last session for the day, and I think that if we don’t want anyone to know what we’ve been up to we need to wash each other’s paint off. And luckily for both of us, I happen to have a private wash rack in my quarters.”
With that he turned and walked toward the door at the back of his office, the door that led to his personal quarters. As he moved, his doors swayed invitingly.
“Come on, mech,” Smokescreen said, his voice a low and sultry purr. “How about I start your first lesson with how to properly go about seducing a mech?”
“Oh I’ll show you properly,” Sideswipe growled as he launched himself after the Datsun, catching him just as they reached the recharge chamber.