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Noah wouldn’t call himself an adrenaline junkie. Sure, he was in the military, but that was out of necessity. He thought he needed to so he’d be able to support his family, and the recruiter made it seem like a noble cause for his country. Any action he saw there was just what happened, it was about survival.
Now? With Mirage in his life, he wasn’t sure what to call it.
That first night when Noah thought he’d just be stealing a car for Reek, he had been shitting his pants. The battlefield was one thing, breaking the law was another. He thought he was going to have a heart attack with the way his blood was rushing, his chest hot, his fingers cold. And then the security guard saw him, and Noah thought it was over. He was going to prison, he was a failure as a son and a brother. And then Mirage saved his ass for the first time of many.
When Noah thought he was going to die in a high speed car chase with a crazy car that had come to life, he figured it was just his luck. And then he didn’t, and then his world was flipped around with the knowledge of aliens being real, and talking to him. Noah didn’t have a chance to analyze the thrumming in his veins, the buzz under his skin. And it didn’t help that Mirage was that kind of robot, either, the one that did things without really thinking, that pushed and took risks when he didn’t need to.
Mirage was obsessed with human culture, racing above all.
“You guys have an entire sport dedicated to speeding?” he had said. “And it’s legal? Now that’s a dream.”
It had been a few weeks since Noah had been able to fix him up, got him back into working order. Reek totally pissed himself, it was awesome. With no looming doomsday on the horizon, and Noah’s pending acceptance to G.I. Joe, he was a little bored, and Mirage was even more so. He was the worst when he was bored. It made Noah wonder how he had managed to stay in that parking garage for so long, because he was totally insufferable. “Pent up energy,” he said. Yeah, whatever. It was driving Noah up the wall.
It was late at night, and Noah was in the garage fixing up some things for Kris’s friends. A Walkman, a radio, and a Game Boy. The hardest was the Game Boy, since Noah had surprisingly not worked on one yet. Mirage was bumping some Wu-Tang and shifting through his many alt-modes, restless as usual. Noah was alright with it at first, when he was dealing with the radio, something he barely had to think about when he was tinkering, but when he got stuck on how to go about fixing the Game Boy, the transforming sounds went from being easy background noise to really annoying.
“‘Raj,” Noah huffed. “Can you chill for a second?”
“You chill,” Mirage grumbled back, settling on the classic Porsche. “At least you’ve got something to do.”
“Sorry my life isn't as exciting as the Autobots’. Get used to it.”
Mirage transformed into bot mode, falling back on his ass with a loud clang, shaking the garage. He sighed and started tapping his fingers to the beat. Noah went back to the Game Boy, carefully removing the wires connected to the motherboard. Mirage tapped away, Noah could see him bouncing his head. It was easier to concentrate for a while, but then Mirage started snapping, tapping his foot, really getting into the vibe of the song. He started humming, and then singing along to the lyrics. Noah dropped his head.
“What?” Mirage asked, exasperated. “The music was already playing!”
“Let’s go for a ride.”
“Seriously?”
Noah placed the dismantled Game Boy gingerly to the side.
“Yeah, man. I think we both need to get out.”
He could see Mirage celebrate out of the corner of his eye. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He liked going for drives with Mirage. It was nice to let someone else take the wheel for a while, and he was there to keep Mirage in check. Following road rules, don’t give anyone a reason to give them a hard time. The late-night drives were better for the both of them. New York traffic lulled, and with Mirage driving it gave Noah a chance to just clear his head, to look at the city at night. Especially on nights like this when Noah was just as restless as Mirage.
Sometimes Mirage drove around until Noah fell asleep, and would somehow manage to get Noah into his own bed. Mirage liked to go out as a Ford Escort, because as grateful he was that Noah helped him, he’d be damned if he went outside as a mismatched Porsche or Ferrari. It was “trashy” to his image. Noah was working on getting Mirage painted back into the classic blue and silver, but it was a slow process. He was still getting used to not having to pay Kris’s medical bills, he wasn’t ready to start spending any extra cash on Mirage’s vanity. And Mirage could have hologrammed it, but it wasn’t the same.
Out they went, just driving. It was weird to sit in the driver’s seat, but not be doing anything. Noah would lean the seat back, but he didn’t think the general public would react well to a self-driving car. Mirage turned on the radio, low enough to hear, but not too loud. The easy beat of a song Noah hadn’t heard yet slipped through the speakers. The city was different at night, never asleep, but so much more relaxed. Maybe the night was when bad things happened, not a lot of eyes around, but for Noah and Mirage it was just time to think.
Noah zoned out, not sure how much time had passed, but one peak outside and he knew they were out of Brooklynn. He rubbed his eyes, blinking slowly.
“How long you been drivin’?”
“Dunno,” Mirage said. “Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
They were stopped at a red light, a surprisingly empty intersection. The quiet hum of Mirage’s engine was lulling him to sleep, Warren G on the radio. Noah looked out to a street light flickering. He absentmindedly stroked the wheel, just brushing his hand back and forth, feeling the leather. Mirage’s engine revved, but Noah didn’t pay it mind. The light changed. Mirage didn’t move.
Noah gave it about three seconds. “Light’s green, ‘Raj.”
“What? Oh, yeah.” Mirage inched forward, but was immediately cut off by two cars absolutely flying through the red light.
“Fuck!” Noah sat up, watching the cars speed down the street, drifting around a corner and disappearing.
“Street racing?” Mirage said, almost dreamily.
“No,” Noah said firmly. “Absolutely not.”
“I’ll be careful! Swear on the Queen herself. Latifah not Elizabeth.”
“It’s racing, there’s no ‘careful.’”
“I won’t bother you in the garage if you let me do this. Just this once!”
Noah knew it was bullshit, but he couldn’t escape the pull he felt from seeing the cars. He was more trying to convince himself to not go along with it instead of Mirage. He thought about Mirage, the speed. His fingers twitched, his heart started to race. Just this once.
Noah barely registered that he nodded, before Mirage had peeled out towards the cars. Surely, they were long gone by now, but if anyone could catch them, it’d be Mirage. Noah sat back, letting Mirage take the reins. As Mirage drifted down the same turn, he shifted his alt-mode. Noah couldn’t tell what it was from the inside. He could see the cars down the street, Mirage pressed forward.
Noah felt his body get hot, felt himself get pressed into the seat from the speed. Mirage dodged cars as easily as he did that first night they ran from the cops. This time, though, Noah didn’t scream. He relaxed into the seat, he knew Mirage had him. They were boys after all. The speedometer number went higher and higher, 90, 100, 110. The city was a blur of lights, but Noah was only looking ahead. Mirage was catching the cars faster than Noah thought he’d be able to. Another curve, a perfect drift, Noah leaned in the seat, inhaled. Might as well enjoy the ride this time, right?
Noah laughed, sudden and nervous. It almost sounded manic, but it turned into a shout, “YEAHH!”
Mirage joined in, “WHOO!”
Noah wasn’t sure if the cars in front had noticed them yet, but Mirage was on their ass, so it was only a matter of time. Noah’s heart was racing. He knew about New York street racing, he knew it was dangerous as fuck. He didn’t know street racing etiquette, and they were definitely crashing a race that wasn’t theirs. His heart raced, skin hot, it was weirdly intimate. It wasn’t just the adrenaline, Noah realized, because it was different from the first time they raced through NYC. The speed, it was fun, but there was something else there.
It was trust.
Noah trusted Mirage wouldn’t let him get hurt, or get himself hurt. After saving the world together, that bond was there now. It went both ways, Mirage trusted Noah with rebuilding him, Noah trusted Mirage to move perfectly on the road.
Noah’s skin tingled, and it wasn’t the headrush.
Another curve, the two cars went outside, not getting the drift perfect being so close. Mirage took the inside, and when they straightened out, Mirage was ahead.
“‘Raj!” Noah said. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“Hell no! But I have an idea.”
They were in it now. The two cars, a metallic red Mustang with black accents and a green Toyota Supra, adjusted until Mirage was in the middle, and Mirage let them because Noah knew he could dust them. They were customized, they looked sick as hell. Noah used to dream about having a car like them. He had a better one now, though. Noah had the last-minute idea to grab the wheel. He wasn’t sure if the people in the cars would think to look at who exactly just joined their race, but he didn’t want them to see him let the car drive itself.
Noah wasn’t expecting it when Mirage suddenly braked, tires squealing, car sliding at an angle as they spun around, ending up facing the opposite way. The two cars sped off, turning a corner. Gone for good this time.
“What the hell was that?” Noah yelled, more shocked than angry.
“Shit. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you-” Mirage stuttered something out, but Noah didn’t hear it. With his hands still gripping the wheel, he looked down and realized he had a problem. He squeezed the wheel, Mirage muttered something about, “Not so rough, huh?”
“Yeah, fuck.” Noah dropped the wheel like it was burning him. “Sorry.”
“That was fun, right?” Mirage asked.
“Yeah,” Noah said. He was dazed.
“We should probably head back.”
“Yeah.”
“Okayyy,” Mirage said. He turned the radio on, louder than before, and started driving off, shifting back into what Noah assumed to be the Ford. He was aching. He didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t a teen anymore, popping boners at any random moment. Sure, he was still young, but racing? No, this was just the adrenaline. It happens. Noah rationalized with this the entire ride home. He didn’t trust adjusting himself, because he wasn’t sure all Mirage could see when he was inside him. Noah shook his head. Absolutely not like that. Right?
Noah didn’t know that much about Cybertronian biology. He didn’t think they did that . They were robots. He needed to stop thinking about this. If he ignored it, it would go away by itself. He rested his hands in his lap, trying to at least hide the obscene way he was tenting his pants.
The ride back was quiet, a little awkward. They got to the garage, and Noah was back to normal, just unsettled with the knowledge that he got hard driving with Mirage. It was just a fluke, a one-off. It happened.
“‘Night, Noah.”
“‘Night, Mirage.”
Noah wasn’t so sure anymore.
—
A few days later, Reek showed up with some big news.
“Dude,” he said. “Rumors been flyin’ about a mismatched Civic crashing street races. Is that you and your boy?”
My boy, Noah thought. He shivered. He knew Reek didn’t mean it like that, but it sure felt like it.
“Does Mirage look like a Civic?” he huffed from under a Volkswagen.
“No,” Reek said. “But he’s an alien, ain’t he? I don’t know how your freaky alien shit works. He can change into one car, I bet he could turn into any car.”
Noah sighed. “Yeah, it was us. But it was one race.”
“One? Try seven in the last three days. Y’all hit three in one the other night.”
Noah slid out from under the car. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Nah, man. I’m dead serious,” Reek put his hands up, Twizzler hanging out of his mouth. “On my momma.”
“Shit,” Noah said. “You better be tellin’ the truth. I was only there for one, I didn’t know he kept doing it.”
“Aw, I wasn’t trying to get your boy in trouble.”
“He’s not my boy, stop saying that.” Noah snapped. He stopped, shocked at himself.
“Hey, no need to get hostile on me, Diaz. I thought that’s how y’all called each other.”
Noah’s face scrunched. It was. So why was he being weird about it now?
“Where’s speed racer now?” Reek asked, walking over to lean on Noah’s workbench. The Game Boy sat, still dismantled.
“On a mission, top secret,” Noah raised his eyebrows for emphasis, hands spread wide.
“Shit, I wanted to ask him about the races. People got some money on him. If I can get some insider knowledge, I can cash out big.”
“I’m gonna talk to him,” Noah said, wiping his hands. “He’s not street racing anymore.” Especially not without me, fucking traitor.
Reek’s face went slack. “Noah, you’re shitting me. This is easy money!”
“I’m not hustling for you, especially not with street racers. Those guys are batshit.”
Reek’s hands went up, exasperated. “Is this about stealing the Porsche? C’mon, I thought you were over that.”
Noah shook his head. “It’s not that. Mirage is supposed to be keeping a low profile, and as crazy as people are, I don’t wanna fuck with the alien robots. Mirage has been on thin ice as it is.”
“Wait, there’s more of them?”
“I thought I mentioned that.”
“The hell you did! Anyway, there could be real money in this!”
“Not on your life. Tell me more about these races.” Noah was going to kick Mirage’s ass.
“Not much to say. The Civic shows up mid race, overtakes the leader, and then leaves before the end of the race. I don’t hang out with that crowd like that, I’m just sayin’ what I hear through the vine.”
“You bet on those cars.”
“Yeah, I bet on ‘em.”
Noah laughed, shaking his head. He thought about it. He could test his theory about racing with Mirage. It had to be a one time thing, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried it again. He didn’t want to encourage Mirage to race, he was already pissed that Mirage was going behind his back, but the high he got the other night, he was craving it. It was mostly research. If he had a little fun with it, who cared.
“Alright. One race. Tell me where and when.”
“For real? You’ll be there?”
“Yeah.”
“Swear.”
“I swear! Before I change my mind, c’mon.”
“Fuuuuck yes,” Reek put his hand out. Noah grabbed it, a satisfying pop from the contact. “You won’t regret it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
***
Mirage was back that night, and he seemed to know he was in trouble because he started by saying, “I can explain.”
Noah crossed his arms. “Can you?”
“No, not really.” Mirage hung his head. “Can you blame me? I’m bored as hell, and I don’t stay long enough for anyone to see me.”
Noah sighed. “I would’ve gone with you. You could’ve invited me.”
“Really?” Mirage asked.
“Yeah. In fact, I got it in good faith that there’s a race in the Bronx tonight that’s expecting you. Us.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Mirage smiled, and Noah’s heart stuttered. This was gonna be fine. The other night was a fluke, tonight will prove it.
***
They were stopped at a corner waiting for the cars to come through. Noah was a little bored waiting, but his skin was also tight, both eager and nervous. Noah tapped the center console. Mirage’s engine hummed.
“Why the Civic?” Noah eventually asked.
“It’s street racing, Noah. Everyone’s got their own style of car. I like the Civic. Plus, I look a little banged up right now, so I bet it hurts when all these flashy cars get outrun by a car whose paint job doesn’t even go with itself.”
Noah laughed, “I didn’t think about that.”
Mirage’s engine revved. “Game time. You hear that?”
Noah did. The loud rumble of engines being pushed to their limit. Easy prey for a guy like Mirage.
They flew by, but Mirage didn’t immediately move. Noah leaned back in the seat, still bracing. He could feel the heat building up in anticipation. Fuck. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, feeling the rough fabric. They hadn’t even moved yet, and Noah could feel himself starting to fill out his jeans. His fingers brushed the seat, and Mirage hit the gas. Mirage had started a song, but Noah couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in his head.
Off they went, chasing the cars. The speed pushed Noah back, and he relished in the pressure. He bit his lip, he could feel the sounds in his throat, and he would be damned if he moaned right now. He transferred the sounds to a small hum, relieving the pressure, but not revealing himself.
“‘Raj,” Noah muttered, unsure if he would be heard over the sound of Mirage’s engine.
“Yeah?” Mirage responded. If he could breathe, Noah would have thought he sounded breathless.
“You’ll let me grab the wheel if I need to, right? Not to drive, just to keep up the illusion.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever you need to do.”
Noah kept one hand squeezing his thigh, tensing hard. He put the other on the wheel, light grip, like he was showing Mirage he was there. With Mirage working like this, the interior vibrated lightly as he went. Noah closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This shouldn’t feel this good, but it did. It was so wrong.
They caught up with ease, obviously. Noah kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the distance close. All three of the cars in the race weaved between the few cars on the road this late at night. Mirage was waiting for his moment to jump ahead when two other cars pulled up behind them.
“Shit,” Noah said. “I don’t think this was supposed to happen.”
“No problem,” Mirage said. “I like a little challenge.”
Noah shifted his legs, trying to ease the pressure between his legs. The shuffling fabric had him biting his lip. Eyes on the road. The other cars must have practiced this, because they boxed Mirage in quickly.
“No funny business, Mirage. We’re still undercover.”
“I got it, I got it.”
Mirage let them, but Noah knew to trust him. It didn’t look like they were trying to hurt them, they probably just wanted the identity behind the asshole that kept crashing their races. Noah didn’t notice that he had moved his hand higher up his thigh, closer to where he really wanted it. Mirage let the cars herd him, knowing that he only needed one turn to get out of there. The streets were too small for him to try and push his way out without causing at least one of the cars to crash, and while Mirage and Noah could survive that, one of the human drivers couldn’t.
They weren’t turning. The lights got dimmer as they kept driving, and though still far ahead, Noah thought he could see a crowd of people.
“Mirage,” he warned.
“I know.”
Noah knew Mirage only needed one moment. The crowd grew closer, Noah’s hand went higher, brushing his dick, a featherlight touch that wasn’t nearly enough, but Noah was so close, it almost was. One moment. Noah let himself relax, nearly palming himself. He didn’t care about wrong anymore. His head spun. Mirage found it. A gap between the two cars to the right of them. He braked, spinning fast, Noah tightened his grip on the wheel as they slid between the two cars. Noah briefly caught the shocked look of a girl in the driver’s seat, and then they were gone, down another road, away from the race.
Noah squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back as he arched in the seat, whimpering quietly as he bit his lip until it bled.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whispered as he trembled in the seat. He didn’t. He fucking didn’t.
He totally did.
He just came in his pants. He looked down at the spot growing on his jeans. Mirage whooped as they flew down the street. There’s no way Mirage didn’t notice that. Noah could only hope. He tried to sound under control when he shakily said, “That was fucking awesome, ‘Raj.”
“Fuck yeah it was! I hope I didn’t scare you with that. Are you okay?”
“No, yeah. Yeah, I-I’m good. That was dope as fuck. Fuck.” Noah’s heart stuttered as it started to slow, his skin cooling down, his pants uncomfortably wet. He was still shaking with the force of his orgasm. That was the hardest he had cum in years. And it was from fucking racing. Inside a sentient alien robot. What the fuck?
“We should get back,” he muttered.
“You got it, chief.”
Mirage was oddly quiet, and it made Noah nervous. He didn’t stop to think about what the aliens knew about human biology. Even if Mirage did notice what just happened, did he actually know what it meant? Noah hoped not. It would feel more wrong if Mirage knew what Noah did, because then it felt like he was taking advantage. Mirage didn’t consent to Noah’s weird fucking body. Fuck. Maybe it was worse if he did know, because then. Well, he’d know. It was just driving. It had to be. This was all new to Noah, it was overwhelming. It wouldn’t happen again, Noah wouldn’t let it.
“They were totally expecting us,” Mirage said, eventually.
“No shit. I’m gonna kill Reek when I see him.”
Mirage just laughed, and it settled in Noah’s ears like one of Mirage’s favorite hip-hop songs. Mirage turned the radio up, the bouncing cadence of Nas’s voice filling the car. Noah let the hand that had been holding the wheel fall to the center console where he tapped along to the beat, the steady drum in the background, nodding his head. He could, at the very least, recognize that Mirage had great taste in music. Noah let himself get lost in the music, a good distraction from how uncomfortable he was with the cold feeling between his legs.
When they finally got back to the garage, Noah made some excuse about being tired from the excitement. He shamefully changed and started a load of laundry. He was not leaving that for his mom or Kris to find. And when he finally laid in bed, despite being tired after everything, he didn’t sleep a wink that night. Every time his eyes closed all he could see was a silver and blue car, an empty road where they hit record speeds with no one but themselves to see it. Noah was well and truly fucked, and he knew it.
—
They kept racing, but Noah didn’t let himself… finish like he did that last time. He concentrated on just watching the race, feeling the vibrations of the car, watching the streetlights fly by. He got really good at stopping himself, holding himself at the brink, but not letting himself spill over. He’d end the night red-faced and panting, all under the guise of excitement, of just letting the adrenaline get to him. Mirage celebrated at the end of every night, sounding nearly as breathless as Noah was.
Reek had come back and shown Noah the $800 he made off the race, and he generously gave Noah $50 “for the struggle.” Noah debated just giving it to Kris for his birthday. He hid it in an empty oil can that he cleaned out. He put some washers in it to give it some weight, and he had a total of about $500 saved up. He started it as a sort of trust fund for Kris. The money in there was a “DO NOT TOUCH” under any circumstance. The only other person who knew about it was Mirage, and that was only because he was in there all the time and had no use for human money.
Speaking of Mirage, things had been tense between them. Noah was sure it was his fault. Usually Mirage never shut up, but lately he was quiet. Noah didn’t know how to ask. “Hey, did you notice that I totally came in my pants the other night? Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” didn’t quite cut it. But they kept racing, and if Mirage knew and didn’t like it, then surely he would have said something. Unless he was just that desperate to stay out of the garage. Mirage was currently out on another mission with Optimus Prime, so Noah was actually working on some cars he had scheduled to fix up while Mirage was out and he had the space.
It was some mostly routine stuff: a realignment, brake pad replacement, and an oil change. He had another car, but both he and the owner weren’t sure what was wrong, so he had it saved for last, since the diagnosis would take the longest. He had expected to be busy the whole day, easily knocking out the oil change and getting the car back out, and slipping right into the brake pad replacement.
He had a radio on his workbench playing Mirage’s favorite hip-hop station, nodding along, swaying his shoulders a little, enough to help his concentration but not enough to slow his work progress. Time passed quickly, and he was finished replacing the brakes before he realized it. A new song, a new beat, a new rhythm. Noah kept working. He didn’t stop to eat when lunch passed, he didn’t touch his water, which was icy cold at the beginning of the day, but was now lukewarm, the last few rivulets of condensation sliding down and leaving a ring on his workbench.
He didn’t stop until he had diagnosed the problem with the last car, and he caught the time. Nearly the whole day had passed. He noticed that he was absolutely starving, and that there was a sandwich on his workbench, next a newly refilled water cup. Noah smiled. He leaned against the bench as he ate for the first time that day. He already made lunch and dinner for Kris in case this happened, as it usually did. He got so lost in his work, he didn’t pay the outside world any mind. He knew it wasn’t a thing most people did, but he did it. His family didn’t mind, it usually ended up with him eating at the end of the day, food made for him by Kris, or food he had made in anticipation for him focusing on fixing the cars in the garage.
He finished his sandwich, which probably sat out for a while because it was a little soggy, but Noah didn’t mind. He turned his attention to the Game Boy, which was still in pieces in the corner, nearly covered by three new projects he had picked up. He cleared his space and sat to work on it, tapping his finger on the side of the desk as he thought about how best to go about it. Kris’s friend said that it wasn’t reading games, but he couldn’t see anything wrong with the port, so he figured it might have been a deeper problem.
He went back to taking it apart and analyzing every piece for inconsistencies. He thought about grabbing Kris’s Game Boy and taking it apart for comparison, but Kris was probably asleep, and Noah didn’t want to wake him up. He was doing better now that all his needs were being met thanks to the government agent guy, but he was still growing, and he was sleeping much more often which, thanks to some books Noah read, was an important stage in growing kids.
Noah blinked slowly. He yawned. He should call it a night soon, but he really wanted to fix the console. He’d already had it for a week and he knew that kid was itching to get his game back. His head felt heavy, he would fall asleep for a few seconds and then jerk his head up, waking himself up. He fought sleep for a while, but eventually he laid his head down and gave in.
He knew he was dreaming, because of that weird floaty feeling he would get when he slept. That and he was inside Mirage again. The driver’s seat. Mirage was back to his full Porsche, restored perfectly. The sleek leather of his wheel, the shiny dashboard. His windows were tinted, which was new. He ran his hands over the leather on the door, lightly brushing his fingers over the texture. He traced Mirage’s door to his steering wheel, to the radio, where Noah ghosted his hand over the knobs and dials of the many controls Porsches came with. Mirage’s engine hummed softly in the background, whirring and getting louder the more Noah touched.
“Do you like that?” he murmured.
Mirage’s engine just purred.
The seat slowly went back until Noah was laying down. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“You can touch yourself,” Mirage said softly, the robotic buzz in his voice tickling Noah’s ears. He loved Mirage’s voice when it was calm like this. He liked Mirage all the time. He just got Noah, didn’t mind his quirks, his human complexities. The other bots treated Noah like an alien. He guessed to them he was. But Mirage never made him feel different.
Noah traced his fingers down his arms, fingers feeling the hair, the soft texture of his skin, so different from the interior of Mirage. He could feel goosebumps raising, giving him more texture to touch.
Noah whimpered as he traced his hands over his chest, brushing over his nipples, down his abs, the skin jumping there. He was so hard, he didn’t realize when it happened. He readjusted his legs, spreading them wide, like Mirage was watching. Noah thinks he was. He thinks Mirage liked watching.
“That’s it,” Mirage said. “I’m your boy, and you’re mine. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah,” Noah breathed out. “I’m your boy.”
He started to palm himself through his jeans, but it wasn’t enough. He tried to press harder but the pressure didn’t change. He groaned, grinding up into his palm. It was a little better that way.
“Keep going,” Mirage said. “You can go faster. Like we’re racing.”
Noah arched up, moaning softly. It wasn’t enough pressure.
“I gotta do everything around here,” Mirage laughed. “Don’t I?”
Noah just nodded, a silent plea, take the wheel.
The seat belts rearranged themselves until Noah’s arms and legs were tied down, nothing too tight, just a light hold. Noah arched up, crying out. What was wrong with him? Was he always this pathetic?
Mirage transformed an arm into the car, slightly bigger than Noah’s, but smaller than what he would have had in his bot mode. Mirage’s hand pushed up Noah’s shirt, the cool metal pressing against his nipples and Noah moaned, pushing his chest up into it.
“You really need it,” Mirage marveled. He brought his hand down, until it covered Noah’s dick, which was still clothed. Noah grinded against his hand, surprisingly soft considering it was metal, but it seemed to give like a human hand. He kept on grinding against it, getting closer and closer, but he couldn’t cum, and he didn’t know why. He could feel frustrated tears pricking at his eyes.
“Please, ‘Raj. I need- please.”
“I know,” Mirage cooed. “It’s up to you, I’m doing what I can.”
Noah’s ears buzzed. Somehow, the setting changed without him realizing. He vaguely recognized a bunch of shadows surrounding the car. They looked like people. It sounded like a crowd. Noah heard more engines than just Mirage’s. It was a car meet.
“Oh,” he gasped. “Fuck. Can they see me?”
“Maybe. Do you want them to?”
“Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“You want them to see how hard racing gets you? How flushed you get? You think I haven’t noticed? The way you squirm in your seat, trying to subtly grind against your hand. I see you, Noah. It’s so distracting. I have to work so much more to make sure we don’t crash. But you don’t care if you’ll get to cum, right?”
“No. I can’t- I don’t mean to.” Noah pushed harder against Mirage’s hand. The shadows moved around, they didn’t care about him, they didn’t care that riding around in his car, his boy, his best friend, got him harder than any girl or guy ever had.
“I wonder what happens when we see a race all the way through, beating those other cars like they’re not even worth the parts put into them. They’ll never be as fast as us. What if we cross that finish line one day? Will you cum in front of all those people?”
That was it, Noah started to shake as his orgasm finally crested, just whining “Mirage. ‘Raj,‘Raj.”
He slowly came to, the hard bench under his arms, he could feel the wood imprinting a pattern into his cheek. He blinked, opening his mouth, which had been so dry. He ran a hand through his hair as he picked his head up. He rubbed both his hands into eyes and down his face. He pushed away from the desk and looked down at his pants. Ruined again. Fuck. This was getting annoying. He turned in his chair, ready to really call it a night, and then he saw it.
Him.
Mirage. In the garage. In his bot mode, a mere two feet from him, hand outstretched like he had been about to wake Noah up.
Noah didn’t scream. Mirage did, jumping back.
“I didn’t hear anything!”
“What?” Noah spun the chair back around, hiding the evidence of his dream under the workbench. “‘Raj! The fuck are you doing back?” Noah’s voice reached a dangerously high pitch.
“Mission ended early!”
Noah hesitantly turned, keeping his lower body under the bench. Mirage was crouched far away from Noah. Noah was mortified when his brain caught up to what Mirage was talking about. The dream. He wasn’t making noises. No way. He wasn’t. Mirage didn’t hear anything, there’s no way he-
“I take it you had a nice dream?”
“Shut the fuck up. You didn’t.” Noah knew his face was red, the same red flush he got after races.
Mirage made to zip his mouth shut. “Swear.”
There was a tense silence between them while Noah figured out how the hell to justify what he was sure Mirage just overheard.
“A little?” Mirage said, voice pitching up on the last syllable.
Noah groaned and covered his face in his hands.
“Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I know that this is normal for male humans,” Mirage said, hands raised.
Noah’s muffled reply came, “That doesn’t make me feel better at all.”
Mirage was oddly silent as Noah peeked out behind his fingers to look at him.
“What?” Noah asked, exasperated.
“Did you…” Mirage trailed off.
“You are not fucking asking me that.”
“I’m just curious! It’s different for bots.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it!”
“Fine, fine. Geez. You’re a little sensitive aren’t you?”
“How do you even know about human- biology?” Noah mumbled.
“A lot of hip-hop has to do with sex, Noah. I can’t want to know about humans? We’re friends after all, we’re-”
“Do not say ‘boys.’ Guys don’t really talk about this shit with each other.”
“Maybe you should. It would make this so much less awkward.” Mirage had relaxed and was rolling his eyes.
“Just. Let me leave. It’s normal, alright? That’s all you need to know.”
“Whatever you say, man,” Mirage put his hands up in surrender. “Don’t humans usually have a person in mind? Who was it?”
“Shut up!”
—
Things were a lot harder after that. It felt like Mirage knew about Noah’s problem, and he was purposely trying to get Noah in a situation where he was, well, aroused. He was so much more flashy, even during the day. Noah refused to race with him, and Mirage refused to race without him. Unstoppable object versus immovable force. They were both stubborn as hell. But this was something way different, because it wasn’t the racing that had Noah hard, it was Mirage.
Since Noah had come to the realization that he was not only attracted to an alien robot, his friend of all things, he was sexually attracted to an alien robot. His friend. If he hadn’t mentioned it already. Noah knew he liked men, he was in the military, of course he realized he liked men. That wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that it was Mirage. And Mirage knew and it was different now.
Maybe Mirage thought it was simple sexual attraction, but Noah knew it was more than that. Outside of his mom and his brother, Noah didn’t have many friends. He and Reek had more of a business relationship that was a little closer than could be considered professional, but they were just that. Friends. He and Mirage weren’t even the same species. How would this even work? Mirage seems to have some knowledge of how humans work, and he thinks Mirage implied that Cybertronians have something similar. But that didn’t make them compatible.
Honestly, Noah didn’t care much about the sex. It was just Mirage. Everything about him, the way Noah trusted him so implicitly, a bond he never even forged with his fellow soldiers. The sexual aspect was just a bonus. But Mirage didn’t want this. He couldn’t because one day Mirage was going to go back to his home planet, and he was going to leave Noah behind. Or worse, he’d stay, and it would be all Noah’s fault. It wouldn’t work out either way.
Mirage had taken to mimicking Noah’s sleepy moans, and it was more annoying than it was embarrassing after the tenth time.
“What are you jealous?” Noah snapped. “Did you want it to be you?”
Mirage shut up after that.
Another late night, and Noah had finally figured out how to fix the Game Boy. The satisfying sound of the Game Boy starting up as it immediately booted up the game had Noah throwing his hands up with a loud, “Fucking finally!” Mirage, who had been busying himself with a TV Noah had finished earlier that night, turned and said, “Hey! That’s hot.”
Noah, despite not looking for praise, blushed. Mirage sitting with his legs spread out in front of him, the TV set between them. He leaned closer to Noah.
“You know what I think we should do to celebrate?” Mirage asked.
“If you say ‘race’ I’m gonna hit you.”
“Race!”
Noah knocked his knuckle against Mirage’s forehead. A thick clunk was heard and then Noah hissed and pulled his hand back. Mirage opened his mouth, but Noah just held up a hand. “Don’t say it. I get it.”
“Y’know what might make you feel better?”
“Racing?” Noah said flatly.
“Just once? And we won’t even have to crash this one. Reek said-”
“Reek? You been talking to Reek?”
“That’s not important. We have a chance tonight to race, the whole time. Just you, me, and one other racer. Winner gets $5000.”
“We don’t do it for the money,” Noah scowled.
“No, obviously not. But it’d be helpful wouldn’t it?”
Noah couldn’t help but think they wouldn’t come out of this race the same way they entered it.
“I don’t care about the money,” Noah muttered. “But we can race.”
“Hell yes!” Mirage transformed into the Civic. “We gotta hurry.”
Noah looked at the open door. He sighed. He sat down, and he let Mirage seal him in.
***
The crowd had gone wild when they pulled up. Noah knew they wouldn’t be able to see inside, because he asked Mirage beforehand if he could black out the windows. Whether police or street racers, Noah didn’t want this getting back to his family, and Mirage respected it. Several of the other racers tried knocking on the window to see inside, but Mirage and Noah just ignored it.
Mirage revved his engine, loud, like thunder. The crowd parted. They lined up with a familiar car, the red Mustang from the first race they crashed together. The Mustang revved its engine in return. Noah could see a man about his age behind the wheel. He might’ve been handsome, but Noah didn’t notice. A woman in a short skirt and yellow bikini top stood between the cars, a pink handkerchief in hand. She moved hypnotically, like a snake swaying this way and that, but Noah didn’t care. He only focused on the soft vibrations that he could feel inside Mirage. Sometimes, Noah thought Mirage sent them out on purpose, like he knew they soothed him, among other things.
Noah rubbed his hands over Mirage’s steering wheel, Mirage’s engine rumbled in response. He never considered that Mirage could feel every time he touched him. He thought back to the dream. He wondered if Mirage liked it. He kept moving his hands, more self-soothing motions.
The pink handkerchief went up, the woman winked, it went down, and they were off.
Pushed back against the seat, the familiar heat settled in his lower hips. He pursed his lips. Mirage pushed forward, staying ahead of the Mustang. It was a simple straight shot. A quarter-mile. Noah didn’t bother adjusting himself. Mirage knew. It didn’t matter anymore. They just needed to win, and that was it.
The Mustang pulled forward, and Noah knew Mirage was letting him think he had the upper hand. Mirage was in control the whole time. If Mirage knew anything, it was racing. And if Noah knew anything, it was to trust him.
Even though Noah knew he didn’t have to hide what he was feeling from Mirage, he had gotten so used to holding back, that he did the same thing here. Holding himself at the brink, so close. He whined, a sound he hadn’t meant to get out as he squeezed the wheel, panting quietly. Mirage suddenly pressed forward, even faster. Noah fell back into the seat, being absolutely pushed back by the force. They blew past the finish line, the red Mustang left behind, and instead of turning back to collect their money, Mirage suddenly turned down a road, away from the crowd.
“‘Raj,” Noah said. “What are you doing?”
Mirage didn’t say anything, he went down street after street, passing a cop, whose lights immediately flicked on, siren screaming.
“Mirage!”
Nothing.
Mirage lost the cop easily, throwing them down an alley Mirage was barely small enough to fit in. The cop passed by them, chasing a ghost.
“What the hell was that?” Noah asked, still rock hard.
“Cut the shit, Noah.”
“What?”
“Can you just. I need you to overload. What do you humans say?”
“What?”
“Cum.”
Noah was already hot, but somehow it felt like he got even hotter, body flooded with embarrassment. His lashes fluttered. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do,” Mirage insisted. “I’ve known since the first time you were inside me.”
Noah clenched his fist. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
“Maybe I do. How do I have to show you? I can feel it, Noah.”
“You- Feel what?”
“Your arousal. I can feel how hot your body gets when you race, how your heart races, and it’s not from adrenaline. What am I supposed to do? When you’re touching yourself while I’m driving?”
Noah groaned. “I didn’t think you could… I didn’t know you-”
“I do, Noah,” Mirage whined. “You keep holding back, I need you.”
“Fuck,” Noah moaned. He moved his hand down to pull down his sweats. His dick was hard and aching, leaking precum freely. Mirage was right, he had been stopping himself from cumming. That dream was the last time he came, and it was his body forcing him to.
“That’s it,” Mirage sighed. “Touch yourself, please. ”
“I will, I will,” Noah said, wrapping his hand around his dick. It was sensitive, he was so close already. He set a slow pace, he didn’t want to end it yet, not with the way Mirage was reacting, like Noah had grabbed his dick.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mirage said. “Just like that. Isn't it so much better to do it yourself?”
“Yeah,” Noah whined. He tightened his grip, and then thought about how Mirage had reacted whenever he touched his interior. He brought his other hand up to run it across Mirage’s wheel. This time, the whole car shuddered.
“You always touch me so gently,” Mirage whimpered. “What’s a bot supposed to think?”
“Was I- Was this getting you off?”
“Yeah. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Noah didn’t think he could. His legs were shaking. He threw his head back, arching up into his hand. He whined on the upstroke, tightening his fist when he reached the head. His hand was slick, the slide so smooth. He was going to cum soon, he could feel it nearing.
“It was about you,” Noah said.
“What?”
“Th’ dream,” Noah slurred. “Always you. You’re my boy.” He turned his head into the headrest, and he noticed the rearview mirror was focused on him. He could see himself in the mirror and he looked wrecked. Just from Mirage watching him, just from having his own hand on himself. He was so flushed, his shirt pushed halfway up, his sweats pulled down just enough to get his dick out. He was just thrusting into his hand, he looked so desperate.
“Like what you see?” Mirage asked. “I do. You’re so pretty, Noah. Not like any other human. I don’t know how it happened.”
That was all Noah needed, he sobbed as he came, Mirage’s name falling from his lips in a stream, the force of it landing on the bottom of Mirage’s steering wheel and dribbling down his hand. Noah isn’t sure if Mirage experienced orgasms the same way, but the way the lights inside flickered, and his voice went staticy, Noah knew it must have been something similar.
He sighed, body going slack. They stayed like that for a while. Noah would have tried thinking about what just happened, but he couldn’t really think at all. He felt a little bad for dirtying Mirage’s wheel, and he cleaned it off with his shirt as best as he could, doing the same to his hand and tucking himself away.
“‘Raj?” he asked quietly.
“I’m here,” came the reply. Noah sighed in relief.
“Man, racing sure gets you going, huh?” Mirage asked. Back to being a little shit.
“Shut up,” Noah muttered. “But if you have to know. It was just you.”
“Sap.”
“Die.”
“Okay, okay!”
It was quiet for a bit.
“I take it this isn’t a one-time thing?” Mirage asked, almost hesitantly.
“Not on your life.” Noah smiled.
“One more race?” Mirage asked, and Noah could hear the shit-eating grin.
Noah laughed at that.
“Not on your fucking life. Take us home, dumbass.”