[TF] View from the Top
May. 2nd, 2019 06:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: View From the Top
Universe: Transformers Amalgam
Characters: Grimlock/Megatron
Rated: M
Enticements: Sticky
Description: In which Megatron overthinks, and Grimlock proves this isn’t something that requires a lot of thinking.
For January’s Second Chance Voting for Patrons.
It was always going to end this way. It was inevitable.
Megatron knew it couldn't last. Despite everything else, beyond respect and appreciation and a boiling attraction, there was one thing the two of them couldn't move beyond.
They were warriors. They were leaders. Neither of them knew how to bend a knee. It wasn't within their spark. They wouldn't kneel, they wouldn't bow, and they wouldn't relent.
It could have worked, if it wasn't for the berth.
They would inevitably get there. After the flirting and the sparring and the dinners and the hot looks across the room, and others shouted for them to "get a room." After Starscream rolled his optics and told Megatron that the sexual tension had reached obscene levels. Once Grimlock's brothers finished making their aggressive shovel-talks that didn’t intimidate Megatron in the least...
It was inevitable.
The berth was inevitable. The kind of inevitable he strode toward with head held high, anticipation tangling a knot in his tank, and a mounting dread they’d discover the truth, once they found the berth.
It couldn’t work. Everything else was perfect, but there, in the berth, they’d find the impossible wall to climb. The line in the sand neither of them would cross.
Megatron was not nervous.
But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He had his pride. He had his dignity. He would not be swayed by his interfacing array.
He had the benefit of home turf, because Grimlock's brothers were nosy and had no shame, and after the last time they'd spent necking in Grimlock's berth with Snarl shouting suggestions from the other side of the door, they'd mutually agreed Megatron's quarters were better. It certainly had less of an audience since Terminus often spent long, long nights elsewhere.
It wasn't Megatron's business to ask. No matter how curious he was.
But now they were here. In Megatron's habsuite. In Megatron's berthroom. Fields swirling and pulsing with desire and lust. Grimlock's large hands wandering over Megatron’s frame, sliding against his seams, dragging charge from his substructure.
Megatron's spike swelled, his valve slicked, his panels jittered, but he doggedly kept both closed. Grimlock hadn't bared his array yet, and Megatron refused to be the first to break.
It was still odd, kissing and embracing someone of equal size and height as himself. He'd gotten used to being bigger, to manage his strength, to use caution. With Grimlock, he didn't have to worry about any of that. He could grip without denting, and kiss with his denta, and Grimlock groaned and returned the favor.
The berth was a few steps away. The back of Megatron’s knees bumped against it, but rather than tumble and take Grimlock with him, he locked his joints and dug his fingers into Grimlock’s hips. He deepened the kiss, biting at Grimlock’s mouth, tasting the scars with the tip of his glossa.
Grimlock growled and got a fistful of Megatron’s aft. His field crashed over Megatron, hot and prickling and demanding. His engine purred, vibrating against Megatron’s chassis. He rocked against Megatron, the heat of his panel a match to Megatron’s own.
He leaned into Megatron, tilting him back against the berth. Megatron turned into an immovable object. He sank his fingers into Grimlock’s seams and felt Grimlock laugh against his lips.
“No berth?” he asked.
“Not if you think you’re going to pin me down to it,” Megatron said, and aggressively rolled his hips, grinding against Grimlock, ratcheting up the tension between them.
He waited for the moment when Grimlock walked away, because neither of them could relent, and they would stand here until the end of things, the berth a weight they refused to carry.
Grimlock worked a knee between his thighs, and the pressure of it against his panel made Megatron swallow down a moan. He resisted the instinct to rock against it, grind hard on the pressure, taste it against his exterior nodes.
“What’s wrong with that?” Grimlock asked, his vocals rough and powerful, and the sound of them never failed to rattle straight to Megatron’s array.
I don’t kneel to Autobots, was the first thing Megatron wanted to say, but it was wrong on many counts, and would start an argument he didn’t want about pointless labels which had never mattered in the first place when it came to Grimlock.
I don’t want to be weak in front of you, was the second thought, but it wasn’t right either, because weakness had nothing to do with pleasure, and nothing to do with whether Megatron took spike or valve or overloaded before Grimlock or because of him.
“Nothing.” Megatron lied because the truth was unappealing.
Grimlock grinned, his visor flashing a surge of heat and desire, all of it for Megatron. “Good,” he said, and he shoved.
They were, for the most part, evenly classed. Megatron was, by a certain margin, broader and better armed. Grimlock was taller than him by a negligible degree. They both had talons, but Grimlock was the better hand-to-hand fighter. And if Megatron were being completely honest, Grimlock was stronger than him.
Down he went.
Megatron hit the berth and sank into the memory-foam cushion, inwardly cursing himself for the ridiculously comfortable indulgence. It caught him and refused to let go. He didn’t even bounce. His engine growled, and he made to twist onto his side, to scramble into a defensive position without being one-hundred percent conscious of the action.
Grimlock landed on top of him.
Correction.
Grimlock climbed atop of him, straddling Megatron’s hips, and grinding down with demand over Megatron’s panel, his own open and leaking, dripping lubricant. It sizzled as it impacted Megatron’s spike cover, the scent of Grimlock’s arousal dizzying in its intensity.
“My patience is thin,” Grimlock growled as he leaned over Megatron, hands bracketing Megatron’s head. “Either you want me or you don’t.” He rolled his hips, slow and deliberate, grinding his open valve over Megatron’s closed panel and leaving a smear of lubricant behind. “Decide.”
Megatron’s panel poppe, his spike pressurizing in a snap, the head of it rubbing the soaked pleats of Grimlock’s valve. He shuddered, hands landing on Grimlock’s hips, yanking him down for a hot and heavy grind.
“Guess that answers that,” Grimlock said, and he smirked. He leaned further, his vents gusting hot over Megatron’s armor. “Think you can handle it?”
Megatron’s optics narrowed, and he braced his feet on the berth, struggling for purchase in the sinking embrace of the cushion. “Take my spike, and we’ll see.”
Grimlock chuckled, but there was mo mockery in it. He rolled his hips, the lip of his valve catching on Megatron’s spike. He sank down without hesitation, taking Megatron to the root in a single motion.
Pleasure shot like a lightning bolt up Megatron’s spinal strut. He groaned and hooked one hand around the back of Grimlock’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss that was denta and glossa, and the hot lash of Grimlock’s mouth against his own. Grimlock chuckled against his lips and rode him like the berth wasn’t resisting his efforts, and Megatron thrust up with what little leverage he could manage.
He bottomed out, grinding hard against Grimlock’s ceiling node, and the answering tremor sent a wave of satisfaction through Megatron’s sensornet. He grinned into the kiss, his spike throbbing within the tight clench of Grimlock’s valve. The Dinobot rode him with abandon, like he didn’t care it was Megatron’s spike in his valve, like it didn’t mean anything beyond pleasure.
Maybe he had a point.
Megatron shoved his other hand between their frames, fingers seeking the point where their arrays met, and found the throbbing nub of Grimlock’s anterior node. He gave it a rub, gentle at first, and then a bit harsher, the rev of Grimlock’s engine encouraging him.
Grimlock groaned, low and deep, the sound resonating straight to Megatron’s sensornet. He hadn’t even bared his spike yet! It was like the stimulation to his valve was enough, Megatron’s spike, was enough, and that thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through Megatron’s lines. He growled into Grimlock’s mouth, his field slamming against Grimlock’s with surges of ecstatic pleasure.
"More," Grimlock demanded as he slammed himself down and ground Megatron’s spike deeper and deeper. He shuddered, armor flaring, heat pouring from his substructure in waves.
"Yes," Megatron groaned and pinched the slippery nub between his fingers, a buzz building in his spinal strut as Grimlock's valve squeezed down around him, charge biting at his spike.
Grimlock growled, a sound both primal and organic and desperate. His talons sank into the berthcovers, rending the expensive fabric, but Megatron didn't think to complain. Not when Grimlock threw his head back and overloaded, clamping down and rippling around Megatron's spike in waves of sizzling charge. His visor glowed a deep, satisfied blue, his field exploding with ecstasy.
Megatron had never wanted him more.
Charge spat against the nodes of his spike, grabbing hold and dragging out his overload. Megatron arched beneath Grimlock, feet shoving into the cushion, hips snapping upward as he pumped his transfluid into the flutters of Grimlock's valve, feeling as if the overload was being dragged from his very substructure.
Grimlock's mouth crashed over his, swallowing his moans, a kiss that was fierce but softened as the grip of overload ceased into a simmering pleasure. It took Megatron that long to realize he'd sunk his talons into the back of Grimlock's neck when he overloaded, deep enough to draw small pearls of energon.
Arousal hovered like a low heat in Megatron's lines. Grimlock's valve continued to quiver around his spike, little spasms of charge that kept him semi-pressurized.
"You think too much," Grimlock said against his mouth before he drew back, sitting on Megatron's spike, a satisfied gleam to his visor. He idly dragged a palm down his chassis before cupping his slowly extending spike. "You think about things that don't matter."
He started to rock his hips, achingly slow, stirring Megatron's spike in his valve.
Any arrogant protest Megatron might have had died on his lips. "Maybe I do." He paused and smirked. "But luckily, you don't think much at all."
It took a moment before Grimlock threw his head back and laughed, a roaring laugh that could probably be heard through the thin walls dividing Megatron's quarters from Starscream's. It didn't stop him from stroking himself or rocking on Megatron's spike, but amusement shaded his visor a darker amber.
"If it means I can take my pleasure without having an existential crisis, then I'll accept that so-called insult," Grimlock retorted, but his tone was warm. As warm as the clutch of his valve around Megatron's spike. "When you think you're strong enough, you can take my spike. Until then, I suppose yours will have to do."
Megatron batted his hand away and wrapped his fingers around Grimlock's spike, optics narrowing. "It pleasured you well enough."
Grimlock's tongue flicked across his lips, swollen from Megatron's biting kisses. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tunnel of Megatron's fist, his valve slick and hungry around Megatron's spike.
"It gave a good start." His engine rumbled, vibrating both them and the berth. "I think I'll need a few more examples before I can make a fair judgment."
Megatron, despite it all, grinned. Arousal simmered warm and heavy in his belly. Grimlock's spike throbbed in his fist, thick and hot, and a part of him considered how it would feel in his valve. Thick enough to taste his node clusters, he was sure, and the blunt head broad enough to kiss his ceiling node again and again.
The idea of Grimlock looming over him wasn't immediately attractive, but their positions reversed, with his thighs clamped around Grimlock's hips and his knees controlling the angle and speed? He could see himself taking his pleasure in such a manner.
It was inevitable.
"We have all night," Megatron said as he pulled his fist along Grimlock's spike, squeezing out pre-fluid to slick his fingers.
Grimlock's visor flared before darkening into that liquid-amber hue of need, his field licking over Megatron's like the banking heat of a bonfire. He grinned, slow and dangerous, and the sight of it made the need in Megatron's belly tighten to an impossibly tense coil.
"Think we'll manage to aggravate Starscream?" Grimlock asked with a flush of mischief in his field.
Megatron laughed, his spark flickering with amused affection. "I knew there was a reason we got along."
His spike thickened fully, rutting up into Grimlock, little sparks of charge dancing between their arrays. Grimlock's vents came a little sharper, a little more audible, the slow motions of his hips quickening.
"Next time, we can horrify my brothers," he said with a bitten off chuckle, one that was lost in the rumbling purr of his engine.
"Deal."
Megatron licked his lips, satisfaction brimming through his spark. He always knew it would end like this.
He really should have given in sooner.
*
Universe: Transformers Amalgam
Characters: Grimlock/Megatron
Rated: M
Enticements: Sticky
Description: In which Megatron overthinks, and Grimlock proves this isn’t something that requires a lot of thinking.
For January’s Second Chance Voting for Patrons.
It was always going to end this way. It was inevitable.
Megatron knew it couldn't last. Despite everything else, beyond respect and appreciation and a boiling attraction, there was one thing the two of them couldn't move beyond.
They were warriors. They were leaders. Neither of them knew how to bend a knee. It wasn't within their spark. They wouldn't kneel, they wouldn't bow, and they wouldn't relent.
It could have worked, if it wasn't for the berth.
They would inevitably get there. After the flirting and the sparring and the dinners and the hot looks across the room, and others shouted for them to "get a room." After Starscream rolled his optics and told Megatron that the sexual tension had reached obscene levels. Once Grimlock's brothers finished making their aggressive shovel-talks that didn’t intimidate Megatron in the least...
It was inevitable.
The berth was inevitable. The kind of inevitable he strode toward with head held high, anticipation tangling a knot in his tank, and a mounting dread they’d discover the truth, once they found the berth.
It couldn’t work. Everything else was perfect, but there, in the berth, they’d find the impossible wall to climb. The line in the sand neither of them would cross.
Megatron was not nervous.
But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He had his pride. He had his dignity. He would not be swayed by his interfacing array.
He had the benefit of home turf, because Grimlock's brothers were nosy and had no shame, and after the last time they'd spent necking in Grimlock's berth with Snarl shouting suggestions from the other side of the door, they'd mutually agreed Megatron's quarters were better. It certainly had less of an audience since Terminus often spent long, long nights elsewhere.
It wasn't Megatron's business to ask. No matter how curious he was.
But now they were here. In Megatron's habsuite. In Megatron's berthroom. Fields swirling and pulsing with desire and lust. Grimlock's large hands wandering over Megatron’s frame, sliding against his seams, dragging charge from his substructure.
Megatron's spike swelled, his valve slicked, his panels jittered, but he doggedly kept both closed. Grimlock hadn't bared his array yet, and Megatron refused to be the first to break.
It was still odd, kissing and embracing someone of equal size and height as himself. He'd gotten used to being bigger, to manage his strength, to use caution. With Grimlock, he didn't have to worry about any of that. He could grip without denting, and kiss with his denta, and Grimlock groaned and returned the favor.
The berth was a few steps away. The back of Megatron’s knees bumped against it, but rather than tumble and take Grimlock with him, he locked his joints and dug his fingers into Grimlock’s hips. He deepened the kiss, biting at Grimlock’s mouth, tasting the scars with the tip of his glossa.
Grimlock growled and got a fistful of Megatron’s aft. His field crashed over Megatron, hot and prickling and demanding. His engine purred, vibrating against Megatron’s chassis. He rocked against Megatron, the heat of his panel a match to Megatron’s own.
He leaned into Megatron, tilting him back against the berth. Megatron turned into an immovable object. He sank his fingers into Grimlock’s seams and felt Grimlock laugh against his lips.
“No berth?” he asked.
“Not if you think you’re going to pin me down to it,” Megatron said, and aggressively rolled his hips, grinding against Grimlock, ratcheting up the tension between them.
He waited for the moment when Grimlock walked away, because neither of them could relent, and they would stand here until the end of things, the berth a weight they refused to carry.
Grimlock worked a knee between his thighs, and the pressure of it against his panel made Megatron swallow down a moan. He resisted the instinct to rock against it, grind hard on the pressure, taste it against his exterior nodes.
“What’s wrong with that?” Grimlock asked, his vocals rough and powerful, and the sound of them never failed to rattle straight to Megatron’s array.
I don’t kneel to Autobots, was the first thing Megatron wanted to say, but it was wrong on many counts, and would start an argument he didn’t want about pointless labels which had never mattered in the first place when it came to Grimlock.
I don’t want to be weak in front of you, was the second thought, but it wasn’t right either, because weakness had nothing to do with pleasure, and nothing to do with whether Megatron took spike or valve or overloaded before Grimlock or because of him.
“Nothing.” Megatron lied because the truth was unappealing.
Grimlock grinned, his visor flashing a surge of heat and desire, all of it for Megatron. “Good,” he said, and he shoved.
They were, for the most part, evenly classed. Megatron was, by a certain margin, broader and better armed. Grimlock was taller than him by a negligible degree. They both had talons, but Grimlock was the better hand-to-hand fighter. And if Megatron were being completely honest, Grimlock was stronger than him.
Down he went.
Megatron hit the berth and sank into the memory-foam cushion, inwardly cursing himself for the ridiculously comfortable indulgence. It caught him and refused to let go. He didn’t even bounce. His engine growled, and he made to twist onto his side, to scramble into a defensive position without being one-hundred percent conscious of the action.
Grimlock landed on top of him.
Correction.
Grimlock climbed atop of him, straddling Megatron’s hips, and grinding down with demand over Megatron’s panel, his own open and leaking, dripping lubricant. It sizzled as it impacted Megatron’s spike cover, the scent of Grimlock’s arousal dizzying in its intensity.
“My patience is thin,” Grimlock growled as he leaned over Megatron, hands bracketing Megatron’s head. “Either you want me or you don’t.” He rolled his hips, slow and deliberate, grinding his open valve over Megatron’s closed panel and leaving a smear of lubricant behind. “Decide.”
Megatron’s panel poppe, his spike pressurizing in a snap, the head of it rubbing the soaked pleats of Grimlock’s valve. He shuddered, hands landing on Grimlock’s hips, yanking him down for a hot and heavy grind.
“Guess that answers that,” Grimlock said, and he smirked. He leaned further, his vents gusting hot over Megatron’s armor. “Think you can handle it?”
Megatron’s optics narrowed, and he braced his feet on the berth, struggling for purchase in the sinking embrace of the cushion. “Take my spike, and we’ll see.”
Grimlock chuckled, but there was mo mockery in it. He rolled his hips, the lip of his valve catching on Megatron’s spike. He sank down without hesitation, taking Megatron to the root in a single motion.
Pleasure shot like a lightning bolt up Megatron’s spinal strut. He groaned and hooked one hand around the back of Grimlock’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss that was denta and glossa, and the hot lash of Grimlock’s mouth against his own. Grimlock chuckled against his lips and rode him like the berth wasn’t resisting his efforts, and Megatron thrust up with what little leverage he could manage.
He bottomed out, grinding hard against Grimlock’s ceiling node, and the answering tremor sent a wave of satisfaction through Megatron’s sensornet. He grinned into the kiss, his spike throbbing within the tight clench of Grimlock’s valve. The Dinobot rode him with abandon, like he didn’t care it was Megatron’s spike in his valve, like it didn’t mean anything beyond pleasure.
Maybe he had a point.
Megatron shoved his other hand between their frames, fingers seeking the point where their arrays met, and found the throbbing nub of Grimlock’s anterior node. He gave it a rub, gentle at first, and then a bit harsher, the rev of Grimlock’s engine encouraging him.
Grimlock groaned, low and deep, the sound resonating straight to Megatron’s sensornet. He hadn’t even bared his spike yet! It was like the stimulation to his valve was enough, Megatron’s spike, was enough, and that thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through Megatron’s lines. He growled into Grimlock’s mouth, his field slamming against Grimlock’s with surges of ecstatic pleasure.
"More," Grimlock demanded as he slammed himself down and ground Megatron’s spike deeper and deeper. He shuddered, armor flaring, heat pouring from his substructure in waves.
"Yes," Megatron groaned and pinched the slippery nub between his fingers, a buzz building in his spinal strut as Grimlock's valve squeezed down around him, charge biting at his spike.
Grimlock growled, a sound both primal and organic and desperate. His talons sank into the berthcovers, rending the expensive fabric, but Megatron didn't think to complain. Not when Grimlock threw his head back and overloaded, clamping down and rippling around Megatron's spike in waves of sizzling charge. His visor glowed a deep, satisfied blue, his field exploding with ecstasy.
Megatron had never wanted him more.
Charge spat against the nodes of his spike, grabbing hold and dragging out his overload. Megatron arched beneath Grimlock, feet shoving into the cushion, hips snapping upward as he pumped his transfluid into the flutters of Grimlock's valve, feeling as if the overload was being dragged from his very substructure.
Grimlock's mouth crashed over his, swallowing his moans, a kiss that was fierce but softened as the grip of overload ceased into a simmering pleasure. It took Megatron that long to realize he'd sunk his talons into the back of Grimlock's neck when he overloaded, deep enough to draw small pearls of energon.
Arousal hovered like a low heat in Megatron's lines. Grimlock's valve continued to quiver around his spike, little spasms of charge that kept him semi-pressurized.
"You think too much," Grimlock said against his mouth before he drew back, sitting on Megatron's spike, a satisfied gleam to his visor. He idly dragged a palm down his chassis before cupping his slowly extending spike. "You think about things that don't matter."
He started to rock his hips, achingly slow, stirring Megatron's spike in his valve.
Any arrogant protest Megatron might have had died on his lips. "Maybe I do." He paused and smirked. "But luckily, you don't think much at all."
It took a moment before Grimlock threw his head back and laughed, a roaring laugh that could probably be heard through the thin walls dividing Megatron's quarters from Starscream's. It didn't stop him from stroking himself or rocking on Megatron's spike, but amusement shaded his visor a darker amber.
"If it means I can take my pleasure without having an existential crisis, then I'll accept that so-called insult," Grimlock retorted, but his tone was warm. As warm as the clutch of his valve around Megatron's spike. "When you think you're strong enough, you can take my spike. Until then, I suppose yours will have to do."
Megatron batted his hand away and wrapped his fingers around Grimlock's spike, optics narrowing. "It pleasured you well enough."
Grimlock's tongue flicked across his lips, swollen from Megatron's biting kisses. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tunnel of Megatron's fist, his valve slick and hungry around Megatron's spike.
"It gave a good start." His engine rumbled, vibrating both them and the berth. "I think I'll need a few more examples before I can make a fair judgment."
Megatron, despite it all, grinned. Arousal simmered warm and heavy in his belly. Grimlock's spike throbbed in his fist, thick and hot, and a part of him considered how it would feel in his valve. Thick enough to taste his node clusters, he was sure, and the blunt head broad enough to kiss his ceiling node again and again.
The idea of Grimlock looming over him wasn't immediately attractive, but their positions reversed, with his thighs clamped around Grimlock's hips and his knees controlling the angle and speed? He could see himself taking his pleasure in such a manner.
It was inevitable.
"We have all night," Megatron said as he pulled his fist along Grimlock's spike, squeezing out pre-fluid to slick his fingers.
Grimlock's visor flared before darkening into that liquid-amber hue of need, his field licking over Megatron's like the banking heat of a bonfire. He grinned, slow and dangerous, and the sight of it made the need in Megatron's belly tighten to an impossibly tense coil.
"Think we'll manage to aggravate Starscream?" Grimlock asked with a flush of mischief in his field.
Megatron laughed, his spark flickering with amused affection. "I knew there was a reason we got along."
His spike thickened fully, rutting up into Grimlock, little sparks of charge dancing between their arrays. Grimlock's vents came a little sharper, a little more audible, the slow motions of his hips quickening.
"Next time, we can horrify my brothers," he said with a bitten off chuckle, one that was lost in the rumbling purr of his engine.
"Deal."
Megatron licked his lips, satisfaction brimming through his spark. He always knew it would end like this.
He really should have given in sooner.
