![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Unraveled
Continuity: IDW/AU
Word Count: 1726
Rating: NC-17, oral, sticky, pwp
Warnings: Bad science! String theory taken out of context and broken. Sorry...
Characters: Perceptor, Wing
Notes: Follow up to String of Hope. No beta. Grammar abuse ahead.
Rolling, Wing settled on his back, folded wings fluttering slightly behind him. Perceptor sat kneeled between white and red armored legs. Taking in the view, his optics’ gaze slid over the intricate details of Wing’s beautiful and ancient armor. His fingers absently skimmed over the red blades that curved outward from Wing’s knees on either side of where he sat. Wing’s golden optics watched him carefully, observing and allowing Perceptor to touch him as he pleased.
There was no doubt that Wing was a beautiful mech, but that beauty seemed to radiate outward from somewhere deep inside. Spilling out from his optics, his movements, his demeanor. It was improbable that this mech would be lying here before Perceptor, offering himself like this, and yet he was. A small frown pulled at Perceptor’s lips as his mind started to wander to questions of how he was here. Where he was—
“I hope you’re interested in more than looking,” Wing said as he ran his hand over own abdomen, reaching his interface equipment cover. The words and actions easily distracted Perceptor from his strayed thoughts. Delicate black fingers tapped the center of the cover, which split and retracted, exposing Wing’s already onlined equipment.
Perceptor’s gaze shifted to the cat-like smile on Wing’s lips. “And what would you have me do?”
“Whatever you wanted.” Wing traced his fingers around the edges of where his spike met his body. “I’m yours to have.”
Allowing the barest hint of a smile to curve his lips, Perceptor trailed his black fingers up Wing’s inner thigh. He skimmed over the erect spike, causing it to tense and move. Wing shifted his hips upward, wanting more than the teasing touches Perceptor was doling out. Perceptor then shifted his weight again, scooting backward and folding himself forward, planting his lips in a sweet kiss to the tip of spike.
Wing made a soft-sounding whine in response. It was like music to Perceptor, and Wing was his instrument to play. He parted his lips, sucking the head of the spike into his mouth. His glossa swirled around it as he gave the base a small squeeze. Wing sighed and moaned all at once. Perceptor wasn’t exactly practiced at the various forms of foreplay, let alone oral acts, but he did his best. His glossa wetted the length of Wing’s spike as he licked it from the base of the shaft up. His hand returned to pumping in rhythm with his continued mouthed efforts. Wing’s fingers curled into small balls at his sides as he watched and moaned. His wings behind him quivered, giving away just how close to the edge of release he was.
Perceptor’s free fingers circled the outer rim of the valve, then pushed two just past the rim. Wing whimpered, his valve tightening around the tips of Perceptor’s fingers before he pulled them out.
“Teasing me today?” Wing said, his voice losing its usual silken quality and taking on a deeper, aroused tone.
Perceptor couldn’t exactly answer with his lips otherwise engaged, so instead he took as much of the spike as he could into his mouth and pushed his two fingers back inside the already slick valve. Wing made an unusual noise, a cross between whining and something more guttural as he overloaded and his spike released cycled mech fluid. Perceptor swallowed the sudden flow as best he could. It was a tangy yet sweet flavor that overpowered his sensors, the intoxicating taste of Wing.
As Wing slumped back against the ground, Perceptor sat up, but kept pushing his fingers in and out of the valve slowly. Wing lay before him, optics dimmed with a wide, satisfied-looking smile on his lips.
“Thought you were going to do what you wanted with me,” Wing said.
“I am.” Perceptor canted his head and allowed himself the faintest of smiles as he unlatched his own interface cover, exposing his erect spike to the cooler air of the room.
Wing’s optics flicked their focus to his spike, then back up. “That was just the warm up, hm?”
Perceptor nodded, amused by Wing's desire to chat and his playful smile. Primus, that smile... It could light the darkest corners of the universe.
Perceptor's slicked fingers continued to press in and out of Wing's valve. He pushed in deeper and twisted them around, feeling the mesh walls tremble around them. “Already primed and ready it would appear,” Perceptor said.
"Ready and waiting is more like it," Wing replied.
He retracted his probing fingers and carefully laid himself over Wing, his spike’s head gently teasing the valve opening. He stared into Wing’s beautiful golden optics, distracted by that bright inner beauty spilling outward from them.
Wing’s fingers slid up Perceptor’s back. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” Wing asked.
Heat flashed over Perceptor’s faceplates at the compliment. He’d never considered himself anything other than plain-looking. His special sniper-optic and newly armored frame gave him a different look, but he still paled in comparison with someone like Wing, or Drift… Drift… He frowned, his mind suddenly trying to apply logic to this situation. Wasn’t Wing—
“What are you waiting for? You want me to beg, because I will if you want me to,” Wing said, his voice heady with desire as he squeezed his thighs against Perceptor’s hips.
“Of course not,” Perceptor replied as he slid his spike past the valve opening, sinking himself inside Wing’s body.
Wing whimpered as his optics dimmed and his fingers curled over Perceptor's back plating.
Perceptor thoroughly enjoyed interfacing and overloading, but something about this moment of initial connection felt special. He and Wing linked together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. Completeness he never felt otherwise.
The valve’s mesh walls trembled around his hard spike, creating a ripple of heat to rise inside his spike and spill over into his sensory net. He shivered as arousal pulsed through him. He pulled out and then slid back into that heated, snug space between Wing's now quivering thighs. Perceptor groaned, engulfed by desire. He started slowly, but was soon thrusting in a steady, even pace. Wing moaned and arched beneath him, and his beautiful mouth fell open with all of his unrestrained pleasure. Wing rolled his helm back against the ground, baring his neck. Perceptor lowered his head down and licked along the exposed cables.
Wings hands pressed firmly against Perceptor's sides, pulling on him with each thrust forward. "Harder," Wing whined. "You won't break me, I promise."
Egged on, Perceptor's pace quickened, pushing deep enough to bump the ceiling of the valve's vault with his hot, extremely hard spike.
"I'm all yours," Wing said, his thighs giving Perceptor's hips a squeeze. "No one else's..."
Chasing the edges of the overload he now felt tingling though his entire frame, Perceptor moaned.
Wing then tensed, his whole body taught as his valve spasmed and squeezed Perceptor's spike. With a hard edged grunt followed by a sharp gasp, overload crashed through Perceptor. Cycled mech fluid flooded Wing's valve. They each contorted their bodies into one another riding the intense waves of pleasure that pushed through both of them at once. As the last ebbs of their passionate coupling passed, Perceptor sagged over top of Wing. Spent and floating in a haze of euphoria he so rarely felt in his lifetime, he placed a reverent kiss to Wing's chin.
Wing twisted his head to look at Perceptor, offering his incandescent smile.
Perceptor shifted his hips, slipping free of Wing's hold on his spike and settling himself against Wing's side. Wing reached up and trailed his fingers around the edges of Perceptor's face. "So pretty and you still don't see it, do you?"
"You are the attractive one here," Perceptor replied. The dreamy haze of his overload slowly began to fade.
Wing's smile suddenly took on a sad quality.
Perceptor's no longer desire-laden processor then reminded him that something wasn't right. But what was it? That's when he became aware he wasn't sure where they really were. In a room? Outside? And Wing, isn't he Drift's mentor? If so... Isn't he—
"It's time to wake up now," Wing said, his voice sad-sounding as if he regretted his words.
"Wake up?" Perceptor replied in a questioning voice.
"Yes. Wake up now, Perceptor," Wing replied.
Perceptor's optics lit in the darkness of his quarters. He gasped, disoriented and confused. He rolled over and sat up, his hand landing in something wet. He stared down at his berth. His optics lit the vaguely glowing liquid and he slowly processed the scene before him. Interface cover wide open, spike and abdomen splattered and small puddle beside him. His posture sunk at the realization he'd self pleasured in his recharge... again. This had been happening for sometime now. Ever since the strange encounter across time he'd had with Wing. Prepared, Perceptor snatched a drying cloth off his berthside table and wiped up the mess.
Heaving a thick sigh of air through his intakes, he frowned. "How pathetic am I to dream about a long dead mech?" Wing had asked him to be open to finding love, not fall in love with someone no longer among the living. "If only you were here," he whispered.
Just then, something made a clanked sound on Perceptor's desk. Curious, he got up and turned on the lighting. Staring down at the desk, he shook his head. "That's highly improbable." He reached down and picked up the small, metal talisman jet that Wing had somehow left in his hand. It had been on the inset shelf over the desk. It was far too heavy to move by accident, and there had been no gravitational shifts he'd felt that could possibly move it.
"Wing...?" He turned and looked around the room as if expecting to find him standing there, smiling brightly, but the room was very much empty.
He glanced back down at talisman, and ran his thumb over the smooth metallic item. Perhaps he should be carrying it around? The premise behind carrying an item for luck and protection lacked logic, though. It made no sense, and went against the scientist in him. Still, to have something Wing gave him close to him all the time had it's own appeal after so many recharge cycles like this one, and he slipped it into his subspace pocket.
Continuity: IDW/AU
Word Count: 1726
Rating: NC-17, oral, sticky, pwp
Warnings: Bad science! String theory taken out of context and broken. Sorry...
Characters: Perceptor, Wing
Notes: Follow up to String of Hope. No beta. Grammar abuse ahead.
Rolling, Wing settled on his back, folded wings fluttering slightly behind him. Perceptor sat kneeled between white and red armored legs. Taking in the view, his optics’ gaze slid over the intricate details of Wing’s beautiful and ancient armor. His fingers absently skimmed over the red blades that curved outward from Wing’s knees on either side of where he sat. Wing’s golden optics watched him carefully, observing and allowing Perceptor to touch him as he pleased.
There was no doubt that Wing was a beautiful mech, but that beauty seemed to radiate outward from somewhere deep inside. Spilling out from his optics, his movements, his demeanor. It was improbable that this mech would be lying here before Perceptor, offering himself like this, and yet he was. A small frown pulled at Perceptor’s lips as his mind started to wander to questions of how he was here. Where he was—
“I hope you’re interested in more than looking,” Wing said as he ran his hand over own abdomen, reaching his interface equipment cover. The words and actions easily distracted Perceptor from his strayed thoughts. Delicate black fingers tapped the center of the cover, which split and retracted, exposing Wing’s already onlined equipment.
Perceptor’s gaze shifted to the cat-like smile on Wing’s lips. “And what would you have me do?”
“Whatever you wanted.” Wing traced his fingers around the edges of where his spike met his body. “I’m yours to have.”
Allowing the barest hint of a smile to curve his lips, Perceptor trailed his black fingers up Wing’s inner thigh. He skimmed over the erect spike, causing it to tense and move. Wing shifted his hips upward, wanting more than the teasing touches Perceptor was doling out. Perceptor then shifted his weight again, scooting backward and folding himself forward, planting his lips in a sweet kiss to the tip of spike.
Wing made a soft-sounding whine in response. It was like music to Perceptor, and Wing was his instrument to play. He parted his lips, sucking the head of the spike into his mouth. His glossa swirled around it as he gave the base a small squeeze. Wing sighed and moaned all at once. Perceptor wasn’t exactly practiced at the various forms of foreplay, let alone oral acts, but he did his best. His glossa wetted the length of Wing’s spike as he licked it from the base of the shaft up. His hand returned to pumping in rhythm with his continued mouthed efforts. Wing’s fingers curled into small balls at his sides as he watched and moaned. His wings behind him quivered, giving away just how close to the edge of release he was.
Perceptor’s free fingers circled the outer rim of the valve, then pushed two just past the rim. Wing whimpered, his valve tightening around the tips of Perceptor’s fingers before he pulled them out.
“Teasing me today?” Wing said, his voice losing its usual silken quality and taking on a deeper, aroused tone.
Perceptor couldn’t exactly answer with his lips otherwise engaged, so instead he took as much of the spike as he could into his mouth and pushed his two fingers back inside the already slick valve. Wing made an unusual noise, a cross between whining and something more guttural as he overloaded and his spike released cycled mech fluid. Perceptor swallowed the sudden flow as best he could. It was a tangy yet sweet flavor that overpowered his sensors, the intoxicating taste of Wing.
As Wing slumped back against the ground, Perceptor sat up, but kept pushing his fingers in and out of the valve slowly. Wing lay before him, optics dimmed with a wide, satisfied-looking smile on his lips.
“Thought you were going to do what you wanted with me,” Wing said.
“I am.” Perceptor canted his head and allowed himself the faintest of smiles as he unlatched his own interface cover, exposing his erect spike to the cooler air of the room.
Wing’s optics flicked their focus to his spike, then back up. “That was just the warm up, hm?”
Perceptor nodded, amused by Wing's desire to chat and his playful smile. Primus, that smile... It could light the darkest corners of the universe.
Perceptor's slicked fingers continued to press in and out of Wing's valve. He pushed in deeper and twisted them around, feeling the mesh walls tremble around them. “Already primed and ready it would appear,” Perceptor said.
"Ready and waiting is more like it," Wing replied.
He retracted his probing fingers and carefully laid himself over Wing, his spike’s head gently teasing the valve opening. He stared into Wing’s beautiful golden optics, distracted by that bright inner beauty spilling outward from them.
Wing’s fingers slid up Perceptor’s back. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” Wing asked.
Heat flashed over Perceptor’s faceplates at the compliment. He’d never considered himself anything other than plain-looking. His special sniper-optic and newly armored frame gave him a different look, but he still paled in comparison with someone like Wing, or Drift… Drift… He frowned, his mind suddenly trying to apply logic to this situation. Wasn’t Wing—
“What are you waiting for? You want me to beg, because I will if you want me to,” Wing said, his voice heady with desire as he squeezed his thighs against Perceptor’s hips.
“Of course not,” Perceptor replied as he slid his spike past the valve opening, sinking himself inside Wing’s body.
Wing whimpered as his optics dimmed and his fingers curled over Perceptor's back plating.
Perceptor thoroughly enjoyed interfacing and overloading, but something about this moment of initial connection felt special. He and Wing linked together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. Completeness he never felt otherwise.
The valve’s mesh walls trembled around his hard spike, creating a ripple of heat to rise inside his spike and spill over into his sensory net. He shivered as arousal pulsed through him. He pulled out and then slid back into that heated, snug space between Wing's now quivering thighs. Perceptor groaned, engulfed by desire. He started slowly, but was soon thrusting in a steady, even pace. Wing moaned and arched beneath him, and his beautiful mouth fell open with all of his unrestrained pleasure. Wing rolled his helm back against the ground, baring his neck. Perceptor lowered his head down and licked along the exposed cables.
Wings hands pressed firmly against Perceptor's sides, pulling on him with each thrust forward. "Harder," Wing whined. "You won't break me, I promise."
Egged on, Perceptor's pace quickened, pushing deep enough to bump the ceiling of the valve's vault with his hot, extremely hard spike.
"I'm all yours," Wing said, his thighs giving Perceptor's hips a squeeze. "No one else's..."
Chasing the edges of the overload he now felt tingling though his entire frame, Perceptor moaned.
Wing then tensed, his whole body taught as his valve spasmed and squeezed Perceptor's spike. With a hard edged grunt followed by a sharp gasp, overload crashed through Perceptor. Cycled mech fluid flooded Wing's valve. They each contorted their bodies into one another riding the intense waves of pleasure that pushed through both of them at once. As the last ebbs of their passionate coupling passed, Perceptor sagged over top of Wing. Spent and floating in a haze of euphoria he so rarely felt in his lifetime, he placed a reverent kiss to Wing's chin.
Wing twisted his head to look at Perceptor, offering his incandescent smile.
Perceptor shifted his hips, slipping free of Wing's hold on his spike and settling himself against Wing's side. Wing reached up and trailed his fingers around the edges of Perceptor's face. "So pretty and you still don't see it, do you?"
"You are the attractive one here," Perceptor replied. The dreamy haze of his overload slowly began to fade.
Wing's smile suddenly took on a sad quality.
Perceptor's no longer desire-laden processor then reminded him that something wasn't right. But what was it? That's when he became aware he wasn't sure where they really were. In a room? Outside? And Wing, isn't he Drift's mentor? If so... Isn't he—
"It's time to wake up now," Wing said, his voice sad-sounding as if he regretted his words.
"Wake up?" Perceptor replied in a questioning voice.
"Yes. Wake up now, Perceptor," Wing replied.
Perceptor's optics lit in the darkness of his quarters. He gasped, disoriented and confused. He rolled over and sat up, his hand landing in something wet. He stared down at his berth. His optics lit the vaguely glowing liquid and he slowly processed the scene before him. Interface cover wide open, spike and abdomen splattered and small puddle beside him. His posture sunk at the realization he'd self pleasured in his recharge... again. This had been happening for sometime now. Ever since the strange encounter across time he'd had with Wing. Prepared, Perceptor snatched a drying cloth off his berthside table and wiped up the mess.
Heaving a thick sigh of air through his intakes, he frowned. "How pathetic am I to dream about a long dead mech?" Wing had asked him to be open to finding love, not fall in love with someone no longer among the living. "If only you were here," he whispered.
Just then, something made a clanked sound on Perceptor's desk. Curious, he got up and turned on the lighting. Staring down at the desk, he shook his head. "That's highly improbable." He reached down and picked up the small, metal talisman jet that Wing had somehow left in his hand. It had been on the inset shelf over the desk. It was far too heavy to move by accident, and there had been no gravitational shifts he'd felt that could possibly move it.
"Wing...?" He turned and looked around the room as if expecting to find him standing there, smiling brightly, but the room was very much empty.
He glanced back down at talisman, and ran his thumb over the smooth metallic item. Perhaps he should be carrying it around? The premise behind carrying an item for luck and protection lacked logic, though. It made no sense, and went against the scientist in him. Still, to have something Wing gave him close to him all the time had it's own appeal after so many recharge cycles like this one, and he slipped it into his subspace pocket.
◾ Tags:
