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It had been a stellar cycle since a ceasefire had been announced between the Autobots and Decepticons. Which was fine for the most part if not for the fact that the Prime was also living in his quarters...who even suggested the idea of sharing rooms to develop comraderie among their ranks!?
Oh right, it was Optimus...and for some slagging reason, Megatron had agreed to it.
He growled softly hands balled into fists as he stood outside his berthroom doors. Sharing quarters with Optimus Prime was driving him mad with frustration. The room was too small, the berths too close for comfort…
…And he had no "private" time to himself.
Megatron was no prude, and the unreleased charge was making his systems short circuit on occasion. He hadn't had a moment to himself since all this began. Neither to process his thoughts or to take care of himself.
Not with the risk Optimus may walk in at any moment.
Yet he still had half a mind to just do it. Besides...Optimus was working at the moment...he usually didn't come back for several joors until it was Megatron's shift, even to take breaks.
With a decisiveness that knew no shame, Megatron strode back to his personal chamber within the shared quarters. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence. He was going to do it. Right now. Before Optimus returned.
Megatron quickly climbed onto his berth, lying on his back. This was fine.
He wouldn't be caught. Hopefully. Although some insidious part of his mind whispered the fantasies he kept close to his chassis.
With a shake of his helm, he spread his legs slightly, his digits slowly trailing down his frame. he shuddered, gritting his denta.
After a moments hesitation, he sent the command to open his modesty panel, revealing his sopping valve and blinking red anterior node.
His node pulsed red-hot as he worked it along with his callipers, his hips twitching subtly. He threw one arm over his optics, his back arching slightly.
Every sensor focused on the deeply satisfying touch of slick valve lips against his digits. He wasn't making any sounds...yet.
The node throbbed with desire, the red light pulsing with his growing arousal. he used his other hand to drag across his chest plates, subconsiously spreading his legs wider.
Megatron grew more insistent, leting out a low, controlled breath. he was getting closer...but he needed more. It wasn't enough.
He spread the valve lips, pushing his digits inside.
Megatron's breath hitched as he pushed in deeper, the sensation of penetration sending a jolt through his systems. He began to move his fingers in and out, his hips lifting slightly off the berth to meet the thrusts.
He expertly curled his fingers inside himself, rubbing every node he could reach. He needed release. Desperately. His hand moved faster, his fingers pumping aggressively. "Come on..." He growled lowly. "Just...FRAG~~!!"
Lubricant was leaking down his aft in waves, anterior node pulsing once, twice, and then exploding in a wave of light.
His body shuddered violently as he finally overloaded, his valve clenching around his digits. Megatron groaned, digging his free hand into the berth.
His body trembled with the aftershocks of his release, valve twitching as he slowly withdrew his fingers.
That was so unnecessarily satisfying…Megatron stared at the ceiling and huffed.
…He still had some time before Optimus came back…
For a mech like Megatron, this was nowhere near enough. Besides, who knew when he'd gather the courage to take a chance like this again before Optimus returns and ruins the moment?
His digits slid back in easily, valve already soaked and relaxed. He began to thrust them in harder, his hips lifting off the berth with each thrust. His other hand reached down to spread his valve lips wider, giving himself a better view of his own debauchery.
"Mmm..." He keened softly, optics locked onto the sight of his fingers sliding in and out of his wet, gaping valve. The sight only fueled his arousal further.
He needed something bigger. His fingers just weren't enough. "Frag it..." He cursed. He reluctantly removed his fingers, his valve clenching emptily around nothing. He looked around frantically, scrambling for his "private" collection.
He reached underneath his berth, behind a hidden compartment, and pulled out a sleek toy spike within, the size of it making him shudder in anticipation.
He pressed it against the valve lips, slicking it up with his already dripping callipers, soon positioning the toy at his needy entrance impatiently.
The tip was pushed inside slowly, his valve stretching around the thickness. A long moan dragged out of his mouth once the head popped inside, his hips lifting to take it deeper. "Yesss..." He hissed.
It hit his ceiling node once he managed to squeeze it all the way in.
His frame convulsed, his vocal processor barely able to contain his pleasure. He began to drag himself onto it, his hips and servos moving frantically. "Oh, slag~♡!“
Maybe it was because it'd been awhile, but it felt so good. He circled the rim of his valve, making obscene squelching sounds every time he hilted the false spike. His node began to pulse again, the red light casting a sexy glow on the room. He knew he was being loud, but he couldn't care less. Optimus wasn't back yet.
Besides, his berthroom had plenty of soundproofing.
His movements grew more desperate, the toy slamming against his ceiling node with every thrust. His anterior node was throbbing uncontrollably, release building quickly. He reached down to spread his valve lips wider, watching the toy disappear inside him over and over.
"Optimus...nghhh~~~♡♡♡!!!" Megatron moaned, back struts arching off the berth as he overloaded onto the sheets.
Another loud, guttural moan escaped him as he rode out his overload, completely lost in pleasure. After a moment, he gritted his denta to stop himself from crying out like a cyberanimal in heat, and still, his grip didn't loosen despite having overloaded twice now.
But perhaps that was a mistake, because as lost he was in his own arousal, he didn't hear the code being pinned to the door.
It slid open with a soft hiss, a tall figure striding in.
Optimus glanced into the dim room, his finials twitching as he heard the strange noises…until his optics adjusted to the lighting and landed on Megatron.
He froze, vents shuttering closed.
His processors shorted out as he took in the scene before him, trying to process what his visual feed was showing him.
Megatron's legs spread wide open, his callipers speared by a false spike as he vigorously played with his callipers.
Optimus subconsiously locked onto Megatron's exposed and very busy valve.
The other mech…alone, lost in pleasure, completely unaware of his arrival.
Prime felt his face flush a deep blue beneath his mask as he realized what he was witnessing.
Yet against his better judgement, he watched without announcing himself. He really should...it would be rude not to....but the way Megatron bit back moans of pleasure was too tantalizing. He found he didn't want it to stop.
Megatron was completely oblivious as his back lifted off the berth, twitching around the toy as he chased another release. It gave the Prime an even better view of just how the warlord was self-servicing himself and moaning like those cheap holo-vids he caught some of the younger mechs watching.
The leaking, drenched valve was making filthy, downright vulgar sounds that echoed through the berthroom, along with muffled purrs and pants and whimpers.
…Until the warlord noticed the shadow in the room and froze.
He halted his movements while his optics snapped towards the door, frame tensing as he processed that there was someone standing there.
The familiar silhouette in the doorway made his spark drop down to his tanks.
Optimus quickly noticed the stalled movement and coughed awkwardly.
Megatron felt horrifically mortified, his valve clenching around the toy in reaction to it.
He snapped his legs closed in panic. His plump valve and the circular outcrop of the toy was still painfully visible, node pulsating with residual pleasure.
Megatron wanted to die right this very moment.
Optimus shifted awkwardly, his gaze flicking between Megatron's flushed face and the very obvious toy still lodged inside him. A strange tension filled the air, neither of them moving or speaking for too long of a moment.
"I...uh...did not mean to interrupt—" "—Get out." Megatron said plainly.
When Optimus was still frozen in place, he tried again angrily. "I SAID GET OUT!!"
Prime flinched at the outburst, his optics flashing with hurt before he quickly masked it. He turned away, his movements stiff as he headed toward the door. "Right...I apologize."
Megatron ignored him. Why the hell was Optimus back so early of all cycles!? He hid his faceplates in his palms, humiliated. Yes, he had fantasies….that didn't mean he wanted them to come true! Fantasies were, well, fantasies!
Optimus hesitated for a moment longer, then stepped out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft click. He stood in the hallway, feeling the heat in his panels. Megatron had his valve completely out, fragging himself with a toy.
He let out a shuddering vent. Megatron was self-servicing himself...
He covered his flushed faceplates. Megatron was...
Optimus shook his head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts. He knew Megatron was a mess right now. The last thing he needed was him standing there like some sort of pervert.
…No matter how much he just wanted to place his mouth on...no. Bad thoughts.
He forced himself to walk away, his steps echoing in the empty corridor. But the image was burned into his optics—Megatron's sopping, plump valve. The false spike (how he wished he it were his) lodged deep inside. His red node pulsing with spent pleasure.
He stopped at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall. "Frag..."
How was he supposed to work like this??
Optimus adjusted his posture, trying to relieve some of the sudden pressure. He knew he had important meetings to attend, but all he could think about was the scene he had just witnessed. Megatron's moans echoed in his auditory receptors.
“Need to... need to focus."
Optimus spotted an empty room and shamefully gave in to temptation much too easily.
He forced the door open before sliding it shut behind him. Megatron's spread legs. His wet valve. His red node. The command to transform his spike housing away was a near subconscious one, his optics dimming.
"Just once..." He muttered softly, grasping his spike. Just a little.
Optimus jolted, letting his digits run over the ridges deliciously as he imagined that valve on his lips. Or swallowing his spike. He could just imagine the warm depths. The taste on his glossa.
His movements grew faster, tilting his helm back as he imagined Megatron's valve clenching around him. The way Megatron would moan and buck against him, red node pulsing with pleasure. He wanted it so badly.
"Ngh...Megatron...!“ He grunted, feeling himself overload onto his hand.
He leaned heavily against the door, gasping for air to cool down as his systems rebooted from overloading. He looked down at his hand, seeing the evidence of his release. The sudden wave of guilt and shame was a familiar sensation. One he would probably never get rid of.
"What have I done…?" He whispered to himself.
The next few solar cycles were a mix of awkward tension between the two leaders. Megatron attempted to act like nothing happened, meanwhile Optimus avoided his gaze like the virus.
They managed to attend meetings together without mentioning the incident, but the air was always charged with unspoken tension.
Megatron would sometimes catch Optimus staring at his modesty panel during meetings, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. It was driving both of them crazy.
And surprisingly, Soundwave was the first to confront them about this.
During a meeting as they were discussing the restructuring of the hospital they planned to build later. Magnus, Jazz, Shockwave, Starscream. Most of the high ranking mechs and femmes were there.
Soundwave's visor glowed, flicking between the two leaders, his vocals suddenly cutting through the conversations. "Query: discuss the issue of Optimus Prime and Megatron?" He asked calmly, his gaze lingering on Optimus, who quickly looked away.
"I don't quite understand what you mean, Soundwave," Megatron said with a low, warning growl.
Soundwave's head tilted slightly, his optics narrowing behind his visor. "Affirmative: tension between Optimus Prime and Megatron, palpable. Affecting morale. Soundwave seeks clarification on whether there is an unresolved issue that requires addressing." His words were clipped, yet left no room for evasion.
Megatron scoffed. "There is nothing for us to explain."
Jazz watched them closely, his optics narrowing. "Now that Soundwave mentions it, this is the most tense I've seen you two since the war ended,” he pointed out, making everyone look between the two leaders.
Magnus crossed his arms, his optics narrowed in clear suspicion.
Optimus spoke up before the situation could escalate, noticing the way the warlord was bristling beneath his plating. "Megatron is correct. We have nothing to explain. Nothing is wrong."
Shockwave leaned forward, his cycloptic helm flickering with interest. "Uncharacteristic behavior from both parties. Optimus Prime, typically optimistic and open. Megatron, usually straightforward and demanding. Your avoidance of eye contact and lack of communication is unusual. And your denial is also unnaturally quick," he said observantly.
"I've had enough of this nonsense!" Megatron stood up, attempting to storm away.
Before he could leave, Optimus reached out and grabbed his servo. Their optics locked, the room falling silent. "We're discussing this. Right now." Optimus said firmly, his grip tightening slightly.
Megatron froze, surprised by the sudden contact and unnatural willingness to speak about private matters out. In. The. Open. "Here? Now!?" He hissed.
Optimus was clearly confused for a moment before flushing. "No. Not that!" He cried out, then noticed the gazes and cleared his vocalizer. "The meeting. We have not reached a conclusion."
Everyone watched the Prime closely. He was flustered and blue, avoiding eye contact again.
Jazz raised an optic ridge, realization dawning on him. "Wait a klik..." He muttered softly, his gaze flicking between the two warframes. Starscream picked up on his expression but remained silent in amusement.
Blue optics locked onto Optimus and Megatron. "I think I know why you two are acting strange." He announced loudly, making everyone turn to him. Optimus stiffened, Megatron tensed up, and the room went dead silent.
Jazz continued. "You two...have you been..." He paused, choosing his words carefully or maybe for dramatic affect. "Interfacing?"
The room remained silent. “Wait, you didn't know that?“ Starscream asked aloud.
Both leaders turned to Starscream in bewilderment. “What?“ Then they turned to the rest of the room. Apparently nobody seemed surprised by the seeker's question. Just how many of them thought they were interfacing!?
Megatron crossed his servos in indignity. "I take offense to that assumption!" “Of course we are not interfacing!“ Optimus followed up.
Everyone stared at them skeptically. Nobody was convinced. "Right..." Jazz drawled slowly.
"We truly aren't," Optimus tried again, recomposing himself. Although it was something a little similar—not that he would admit to seeing Megatron self-servicing himself on accident and then jerking off to the memory.
That was deeply personal and not for anyone but himself to know!
The denial was so earnest that Jazz almost believed him. Almost. There was still something off about their behavior, so he decided to test them. "If that's the case, you're telling me that there's no...tension between you two?" He asked, his optics glancing between them meaningfully.
Megatron glared at Jazz, then Optimus. He still felt mortified at being caught. He had no patience for this petty squabble.
"Enough." His voice was low and dark, tone commanding and final, brooking no argument. The room fell silent again, everyone waiting with bated breath.
Jazz looked like he wanted to say more, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he sat back down, his optics never leaving them.
The meeting dragged on awkwardly after that.
Optimus and Megatron barely spoke to each other, their communication limited to stiff, formal exchanges. The other attendees were uncomfortably smudged in the middle of it all.
As the meeting finally adjourned, everyone filed out quickly, eager to escape the tension. Finally, only Megatron and Optimus were left. The warlord stood up to leave as well, but the Autobot grasped his servo once more, this time making the silver mech flinch back.
Megatron's optics flashed with surprise and irritation. He looked down at where that offending hand gripped his servo, then back up into those azure optics.
"What." Not a question but a demand.
Optimus stilled, then let go. "I just want to discuss what happened. Today's meeting has shown me this incident needs to be addressed, otherwise it will likely be brought up again in the near future," he said convincingly.
Megatron was willing to hear him out if it was like that, sitting back down reluctantly. “Fine. Discuss," he snapped, his tone still annoyed but at least he was listening. His mind immediately went to the fact that Optimus had seen him self-service.
He hoped that wasn't what this 'discussion' was about...but his hopes were dashed when Optimus near immediately brought it up. "Megatron, about your...private habits.." he began. Megatron wanted to get up and leave this embarrassing conversation completely.
"To clarify, that time was the first in a long while since I've done it!" Megatron stated. Primus he wanted to offline. That sounded so bad...he ran his palm against his faceplates, regretting ever speaking. Why did he even have a vocalizer!?
Optimus raised an optic ridge, taking in Megatron's defensive and frankly embarrassing explanation.
He shifted in his seat, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite the awkward topic at servo. "Right...well, that is good to know." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "But-" He paused carefully.
He decided to get straight to the point before he made it even more awkward than it already was. "Megatron... I think we need to establish some ground rules." His voice was serious.
"It's still my chambers," Megatron grumbled indignantly. If only this stupid rule they agreed on never existed. He wanted to turn back time and strangle his past self!
“I'm serious, Megatron. Your..." He paused, taking a moment to think about what to say next.
"My what, Prime?" The silver mech snarled.
The Autobot hesitated, not wanting to use the word 'masturbation'. It was such a crude human word and he didn't want to embarrass the warlord further.
"Your...private moments..." He settled for a more diplomatic term. "They need to be taken into consideration." He stated firmly. Megatron felt hot shame drag across his face again. Great. Now the Prime was acting like self-servicing was a thing to negotiate with. Great.
Optimus moved to clarify before Megatron could get even more offended. "I don't mean to insult you or your habits. But given the current circumstances, we need to set some boundaries."
"Explain," the mech opposite him finally relented, pinching his nasal ridge.
He sighed heavily. "Since we share a small space and there is no privacy...I was wondering if we could establish a 'schedule'. Have certain times of the day when you can...relieve yourself without interruption." He suggested, helm bowed low and finials set back.
Megatron was already done. "No."
Optimus blinked, taken aback by Megatron's immediate refusal. He had expected some resistance but not a flat out 'no'. He ran a hand down his faceplates in frustration. "Megatron, be reasonable—"
"Be reasonable!? Do you hear yourself!? Scheduling times for self-servicing...this is horrendously ridiculous!" Megatron dug his digits into the table.
Prime felt his patience wearing thin. He tried to keep his voice calm, but it was clear he was starting to get annoyed too. "And what do you suggest then? That you do it whenever the urge strikes you, regardless of where I am or what I am doing?"
Oh, of course! It's always about you, isn't it Prime!? If you want to help so badly, why don't you just stick your fragging spike up my valve!?" He barked out angrily.
The Autobot's optics flashed with anger and something else—desire. He stood up abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Fine. If that is how you wish to play this..." He walked around the table, his movements deliberate and predatory. "I will do it."
Megatron stiffened. "What?"
"I said I will do it," he repeated. He leaned closer, pulling the Decepticon warlord by his waist. No schedule. No rules. I'll do what you do—release whenever I want, wherever I want."
"I never—! Prime!" Megatron sputtered. "None of this would've happened if you didn't decide to come back early that cycle! Is it too much to ask for one joor of privacy!?"
Optimus froze, then scowled uncharacteristically. He was being such an afthole…but right now, he didn't care. "You are right. Primus forbid the great Megatron cannot get off without privacy!"
"How dare you!" Megatron snapped, swinging his servo at Optimus. "Stop making slag up Prime! This is all your fault!"
"Sharing chambers was a mutual agreement!" Optimus argued back."Mutual my spark-plated aft!" Megatron countered. "I didn't agree to live with someone who can't stand the sight of me relieving tension!"
Optimus's mouth opened to argue but Megatron wasn't finished.
"If I had been right in the helm, I never would've agreed to this! I haven't had a single moment to myself, and the one time I attempt something different, you come to ruin it as you always do!"
Optimus's expression fell slightly at those words. He knew he was being harsh. But the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. "And what of my privacy? My needs?" He rebutted sharply.
"Well then you shouldn't have suggested this in the first place," Megatron bit back, pushing Optimus off him.
He swiftly put distance between them. Optimus watched with a sense of guilt and longing, frustration and a whole slew of different emotions.
He couldn't help but snap again, "You're a selfish, aggressive, overcharged—"
Megatron pushed Optimus down against the table, gritting his denta. "Shut the pit up."
The Prime's breath caught, narrowing his optics.
In the close proximity, Megatron could see the Autobot's lust, and swallowed. He really was an overcharged slagger…getting charged from this.
But he already had to stop midway from finding his third overload the solar cycles before…and Prime offered to…he shuddered, glaring into Optimus's azure optics.
"You keep acting like you want to spike me." Megatron grumbled, trying to ignore the way his valve throbbed beneath his plating, using his knee struts to trap Optimus's leg between his thighs.
Optimus himself felt the pressure, swallowing a groan. He looked up into Megatron's optics, seeing the frustration and desire mixed together. "And if I do?" He tested, lifting his servo slightly to brush Megatron's waist.
The warlord grabbed Optimus's spike housing with his hand, gripping it firmly.
The red and blue bot gasped, his optics widening in shock and pleasure. Megatron's other hand reached up to hold his chin roughly, forcing their faces close together.
"Then fragging do it already. You already interrupted me once. Take responsibility you crankshaft."
He growled low in his throat, feeling Optimus's plating heat up, engines revving. He knew this was wrong on so many levels.
…He couldn't stop now even if he wanted to.
No longer than a klik later, he leaned down, pressing their lips together roughly.
It was demanding, just as Optimus expected from the Decepticon warlord. “Megatron,” he muttered low, holding the mech's waist and slowly dragging it down to his array.
At the sound of his name on Optimus's lips and the teasing probe, Megatron lost what little control he had left. He broke the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the Prime's jaw and neck cables, hearing Optimus shift his spike housing away.
He immediately wrapped his hand around that glorious spike, starting to move in slow, deliberate strokes.
He took a moment to take stock of it as it leaked heavily with transfluid, swallowing thickly and transforming his panels away so Optimus could see how aroused he was—letting the massive thing throb against his abdomen.
It looked like it would fit snuggly in his valve if he did some skillful maneuvering but…
"…It's too big," Megatron muttered.
He hated to admit it but it was already twice as large as the false spike he used before.
Optimus heard the slight panic in Megatron's voice. He knew his size was intimidating, but the way Megatron was reacting was driving him wild.
He lifted his hips slightly, pressing his spike against Megatron's frame. “It'll fit perfectly," he muttered softly. Before Megatron could argue further, Optimus flipped them over so that he was the one pinning the other on the conference table.
He used his servos to spread Megatron's knee struts wide, exposing his valve. He saw it pulse, wet and ready, and he lost it. "Hold still," he ordered.
Optimus had wanted to do this the moment he saw that slick valve. His lowered his helm, dragging his servos provocatively down Megatron's frame until his optics came face to face with the plump lips hidden between mighty thighs. He retracted his battle mask, lust filling his vision.
Megatron subconsciously spread his legs wider, lifting his hips slightly in righteous anticipation. The way Optimus was looking at his array had him ready to burst. "Prime..."
“Stop calling me that..." Optimus grumbled, capturing the image of the Lord of the Decepticons splayed out for him. He could see the wetness glistening between the plump lips, hear the soft whines escaping from Megatron's vocalizer…and he hadn't even touched it yet...
Without warning, Optimus dove in. His glossa pressed firmly against the valve.
The taste was strange and intoxicating. Sweet. "Ah-hhggh~~~♡!?" Megatron's helm tilted back as he keened. the room wasn't soundproofed like his berth chambers.
Despite that, right now? All he cared about was overloading onto that skilled glossa.
Optimus work relentlessly, pushing past squeezing callipers, smothering his face in that delicious, sticky sweetness.
He could feel Megatron's internal mechanisms spasming and gripping his glossa desperately. The sounds coming from him were embarrassing and beautiful—revving and purrs mixed with the occasional shocked gasp.
Megatron was past coherent thought, making noises he'd never thought himself capable of making—high-pitched whines and needy grunts.
His valve was dripping, his lubricants coating Optimus's faceplates. He spread his thighs wider, pushing his hips down for more friction. He was being shameless as he bucked into the Prime's mouth in uncharacteristic desperation.
Prime hummed in approval, watching Megatron fall apart and hump in his direction like a mindless drone.
Megatron's hand came up to grip his helm, using it for leverage. His optics were completely bright with mind rending bliss while a loud, broken mewl escaped him as he neared his peak.
"Optimus...I'm going to—!?“ Before he could finish warning the Autobot, his valve contracted violently around the Prime's glossa.
He overloaded hard—his internal fluids spurting directly into Optimus's mouth in thick, warm bursts. He shook and spasmed above the Prime like a broken machine.*"Nghhhh?! Ahn~♡♡♡!!! Op-Optimus~!!"
Said mech swallowed every drop, pulling his head back and licking a strip up the twitching callipers teasingly. "Mmm...." So perfect…
Megatron's optics sparked, closing and fluttering open again and again, his chassis heaving with each vent.
He finally managed to look down at Optimus, a mix of embarrassment and gratification on his face.
His valve was still spasming, leaking small amounts of fluid onto Optimus's glossa. "Where did you learn to do that...?" Megatron questioned, humming softly as the Autobot continued his ministrations.
Optimus reluctantly pulled away, wiping his mouth with a small smirk on his face. "That was my first time," he admitted, climbing up Megatron's frame and straddling his abdomen.
“You're really loud when you overload. I bet the entire base heard you." Megatron's face turned a deep shade of blue, his optics dropping to the side coyly.
"Shut up... I refuse to believe I was that loud," he grumbled softly, but even then, he knew he was regardless. Truly, the sensation of being eaten out was divine. More so than he expected.
Optimus chuckled pressing a gentle kiss to Megatron's cheekplates. “It was cute," he teased softly.
The other mech huffed, trying to cover his shame with irritation.
The silence went on for long enough that Megatron began to feel confused. "Well? Aren't you going to overload as well?"
The red and blue bot shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that his spike was more prominently displayed. "I could," he admitted. “But I want you to do something for me first."
Megatron raised an optic ridge skeptically. What?"
Optimus reached out, gently grabbing Megatron's wrist and pulling his hand towards his spike. He pressed the palm of his hand against the base of it, letting the warlord feel its hardness and warmth.
"I want you to jerk me off while I overload onto your face," Megatron shuddered, biting his lower lip. “You throw around obscenities everywhere. Why did you even bother acting coy earlier…” he complained.
Instead of answering, he pressed Megatron's hand firmer against his spike, wrapping the Decepticon's fingers around its thick base. "Just…nh..start," he commanded gruffly.
Optimus, always stoic and serious..who knew he had a dirty side to him?
Megatron turned to marvel at the size and heat, and began to lift his servos up and down. Optimus's face remained stoic, but the silver mech could see the way those azure optics dilated and vents hitched.
As he increased the pace, Optimus's hips began to buck forward, fragging himself into his fist.
The Prime's vents grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Suddenly, he grabbed Megatron's wrist, stopping his movement.
"Open your mouth," he ordered hoarsely.
Megatron obeyed without hesitation, parting his lips to reveal his sharp denta. Optimus aimed the tip of his spike at Megatron's open mouth, the head glistening with transfluid.
"Hold still," he warned before pushing forward.
The thick head slid past Megatron's lips, filling his mouth with the taste of fluids.
He gagged briefly when the spike hit the back of his throat, but the Prime held his head in place. Megatron took care not to use his denta, optics flickering with pleasure
Optimus's optics darkened in appreciation. He could feel the Decepticon's glossa pressing against the underside of his spike, swirling around the sensitive head.
With a final grunt, he released—hot, thick, and full of desire while it filled Megatron's mouth.
"Nh," he groaned and pulled out halfway through his overload.
Megatron felt his face soon coated in the sticky substance. It covered his right optic, dripping down his face in thick streams.
Optimus reached out and gently wiped some of the transfluid from Megatron's face with his thumb. Then he pressed it against the warlord's lips as if he were applying human based makeup
Megatron instinctively parted his lips, glossa lazily cleaning the Prime's digit while his optic was laser focused on the mech above him. “You did well,” Optimus praised with a smile.
Normally, Megatron would've felt mortified, but he felt heat gather in his abdomen again as he pressed his servos against his valve. He wanted that spike in him. He wanted to feel it spreading him. Penetrating him. Make him overload onto it.
Megatron let out a needy whine, that made the Autobot's engines rev.
Optimus nudged himself between Megatron's thighs again, prodding the callipers with his already recovered spike.
"O-Optimus, ngh...♡"
Prime murmured soft comforts into Megatron's audials, listening in on those desperate noises. Without further hesitation, he began pushing his spike against Megatron's valve opening slowly but firmly.
The head of his spike stretched Megatron open inch by inch until suddenly sliding fully inside with a wet pop!
Megatron gasped loudly, his back arching completely off the table as Optimus's spike filled him so splendidly.
The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and utterly perfect. He could feel every ridge rubbing against his inner walls, stimulating every pleasure receptor.
With a grunt, Optimus started moving slowly, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, giving Megatron that delicious stretch of callipers and hit of his ceiling node.
The Autobot captured Megatron's lips in a gentle kiss, feeling those walls gripping his spike tightly like it never wanted to let go. Each thrust was perfect, flawless, impeccable, knees going weak. The warlord never felt so thoroughly full.
Optimus twined his glossa with Megatron's, pulling back just a tad as he played with it. He could taste his own transfluid on Megatron and he was sure Megatron could taste himself too.
Then he sat up, wanting to hear those delicious sounds again.
With his lips freed, Megatron couldn't hold back the cries that escaped him. Each thrust from Optimus elicited a new sound—gasps, whimpers, and desperate pleas for more. "Oh...oh...oh please... please Optimus...!"
He gripped Megatron's hips tighter, pounding into him with increasing fervor along with the warlord's own increasingly incoherent moans.
"That's it...take my spike..." he hummed gently. Megatron's valve was so stretched and used that it made wet, slurping sounds with each thrust.
"Harder..! I need...!?"
His moans reached a fever pitch as Optimus lifted his legs and pulled them back until his knee struts were next to his helm. With optics glazed over, and his arms trembling, he tried to brace himself against the overwhelming pleasure.* "F-frag Optimus...! Your spike♡...! It's so...~! Ah♡! AHh~~♡♡♡!!!"
"Megatron…Megatron♡...!" Optimus groaned his named desperately, thrusts growing uncontrolled.
Close. They were both getting so close…!
Megatron threw his head back, his mind completely short-circuiting with pleasure. "O-Optimus...! Spike…it's hitting...♡!"
“Megatron, so…♡! Good…!“
Their systems were overheating with pleasure. Megatron's hands gripped the table hard. A loud, desperate moan escaped his lips as he came undone—transfluid leaking out around Optimus's spike. "Optimus~~♡♡♡!!!"
His voice crescendoed into a whole new level as Optimus followed soon after.
Their optics whited out, frames limp and strutless from the intense pleasure.
There's systems crashed, forcing them into shut down.
…
…
…
“I knew they were interfacing!“ Starscream exclaimed when he unfortunately found the two bots slumped in the conference room.
Safe to say, nobody was going to use that room ever again…
Well, except for Optimus and Megatron.