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Better Halves	By : sefiru Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Crossovers Views: 8853 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers and make no money on this.

Chapter List
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Better Halves
A Transformers fan fiction
By Sefiru
Summary: (G1, TFA) a space bridge experiment ends up connecting to an unexpected place.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I make no money. Ba weep gra na weep nini bong.
Pairing(s): Optimus Prime/Prowl, Optimus Prime/Prowl
Warnings: NC-17, stickyfic , cross-continuity, language, violence
Usmorgan : glad you like it. ^^
Admiral ShadowWolf : where there's a will, there's a smut! (don't think too much about why they have those components.)
shozurei : Jealousy? Maybe. Or else Sunny's just a jerk.
In this chapter: bot smut. You knew it was coming.
***
Chapter 4: Prime Opportunity
***
After the Twins, Perceptor's scientific interrogation was downright relaxing. He kept Prowl in the lab until early evening, taking measurements and readings. The good news was that he would be able to go home after another orbital cycle, when the portal opened again. Prowl was walking across the main cabin from the lab, intending to ask his counterpart for another round of chess (and try to even the score), when a servo lightly touched his shoulder. He turned and looked up – and up – and up – at Optimus Prime. How had such a large bot managed to sneak up on him?
"Young Prowl," Prime said. "I would like to speak to you privately."
"Of course, Prime." Prowl followed the taller bot to his quarters and tried to ignore the tingling in his torso plates. The room was utilitarian, with a desk piled high with data pads and a recharge berth sized for Prime's massive frame. Prime sat down on the edge of the latter and said,
"I'm afraid none of the furniture is suited to your size, but you are welcome to sit on my knee."
"Yes, sir." An informal discussion, then. Prowl climbed up on Prime's knee, which left his pedes dangling a meter above the floor. According to his ninja training, he was in a dangerous spot; too vulnerable in the event that anything happened. But he knew that Optimus Prime – in any universe – would not hurt him.
"How does our world look to you, Prowl?"
He looked up at the warm blue optics, unbowed by eons of warfare. "How do you go on fighting? What keeps you so strong?"
"Hmm. That's a difficult question. I cannot truly say that I have no choice, for there is always choice. We could have surrendered, or we could have fled. But my spark would not let me do otherwise."
Prowl shivered; his vocal chip cycled but no sound came out. His plating felt warm. Finally he stuttered out the other question on his mind: "Why do you give off AllSpark energy?"
"Ah, yes." Optimus's optics gleamed. With a soft click, his chest panels cracked open and then slid aside. What in the Pit? There, in front of his Spark chamber, sat a glowing, faceted AllSpark fragment. It was nestled in a frame that locked it to his chassis, and it pulsed in time with the Spark behind it. "Few Autobots know this exists. The Matrix of Leadership; our last known piece of the AllSpark ." He laid one of his servos on the edge of his open chest. "Touch it, Prowl."
His servo raised without conscious direction, reaching out to the blue shining crystal. A sharp tingle shot up his arm as he made contact. The AllSpark shards at home never had such weight of power. The Matrix seemed to radiate heat directly onto his Spark, and he couldn't quite stifle a moan.
"You desire this," Prime said.
Prowl nodded mutely.
"You desire me." Prime pushed him back and down, using his full weight to pin him against the bunk.
"Yessss …" He trailed off into a hiss, and his cooling fans whirred to life. Prime leaned over him; his chest panels closed again, but now his face shield slid back.
Prowl's optics flickered. "You look like … him."
A crooked smile, hauntingly familiar. "Do you wish to continue?"
"Yes …" A finger stroked the edge of his fairing, causing static across his vision. He arched and shivered. This wasn't his first time by a long shot; he'd had bots throwing themselves at him since he went online. And yet – Optimus found sensors that had never been stimulated. Just from the touch on his fairing, his fans were at top speed. The massive bot rose up and his knees slammed onto the berth on either side of Prowl's body; Prowl's engine revved. Those fingers trailed over his hip assembly and down the back of his thigh. Prime's other servo was still pressed lightly over Prowl's torso – or so it seemed, until he tried to sit up and couldn't move it a millimeter. He threw his whole strength against it, whether to test it or to feel the full pressure on his skin plates, he didn't know. Here was power, power beyond measure, controlled with the precision of a carbon thread. Static fogged over his optics as he slumped back, having not moved a transistor's width. When his vision cleared, Optimus's face filled it.
With a rough chuckle, the larger bot leaned in and nipped the edge of Prowl's jaw. Prowl whined. He clutched at the parts of Optimus he could reach; his servo and forearm, his face and neck. The plating was warm under his fingers. The edge of the right forearm plate held a series of minute notches – some kind of battle tally. He ran his servo along them, and Optimus hissed. He continued to nip gently at Prowl's head and shoulders. Each touch lingered in his processor, taking up more and more resources; peripheral functions started to shut down, and little-used programs came to the surface. He felt his internal components shift and warm up.
Optimus's free hand dipped under his knee assembly and brushed his inner thigh. He moaned, pulling his legs apart as far as they would go, clutching Prime's wrist with both servos. His fans reached maximum and began cycling to prevent burnout; he panted. "So eager," Optimus rumbled.
It was true. He couldn't remember ever craving this way. Usually another bot approached him; it was an evening's entertainment, little more. Not this heat that overwhelmed his processor. Not this flutter in his Spark that sent power surges through all his systems and oh Primus he knew that look. That glint in the optics that Optimus got when he had a bot right where he wanted them. The same, exactly the same … Prime gently detached Prowl's left servo from his wrist, and tucked it under his thumb. He did the same with Prowl's right servo and held it down with his little finger. In his distracted state Prowl didn't notice the result until Optimus nipped his neck again – and he couldn't move. He cried out, all his components trembling.
Optimus continued to touch him, thighs, hips, stomach, aft; everywhere except where Prowl wanted him to. By this point Prowl's pleasure subroutines were taking any touch as input. A single finger brushed over his panel, and he nearly overloaded on the spot. The only thing that stopped him was a hard bite on the shoulder; the hint of pain balanced the pleasure. He would have his overload when Prime decided. Another flutter went through his Spark; he whined and let his panel slide open.
Optimus growled. His finger pressed against Prowl's open port, and made the internal systems spasm. Were they even compatible? It was supposed to be a universal connector, but – he tried to ask; it came out as, "We fit?"
"I checked with Ratchet." There was a soft click as Optimus's panel opened, but Prowl couldn't see it. "We will fit … barely."
His servo slid under Prowl's back and lifted him. Prowl stretched his thighs apart; he let his optics shut off to free more of his processor for pleasure. Prime's spike touched his port and he keened as it started to push in. Both of Prime's servos were around his torso, supporting him; his servos were free again to grip Prime's forearms. His ankles hooked onto Prime's hips and he tried to pull himself down. Again, he couldn't move against Optimus's grip. Prime lowered him slowly, and he didn't understand why until he started to get internal alarms … big! Prowl ignored the system alerts. A micron before his systems overstrained, their hip plates snugged together. Prime looked down at him with a hungry smirk.
He moved. Prowl had never imagined that his processor could manage this level of pleasure without crashing. With every stroke, sensors aligned and sparks of energy leapt between them. Optimus filled him like no one ever had, physically and mentally. He was incoherent, twitching, mumbling static, optics flickering. In mere clicks overload slammed through him like a solar storm and carried him into darkness.
***
He came out of recharge thinking that his berth was a very odd shape. He felt still, not his usual pinpoint balance but a relaxed stillness, like a pebble that had rolled into the bottom of a bowl. He powered up his optics; he was lying on Optimus Prime's chest. The truck-bot was still recharging, and Prowl could just barely sense the radiation of the Matrix through his chest plates. He smiled a little and ran a finger along the edge of the windshield closest to him. Now how could he get the Optimus of his dimension to do something like that? To prove his right to command on Prowl's body -- that would convince his spark like no friendship speech ever would.
Prime's optics lit up, and he stirred. "Good morning, young Prowl. How do you feel?"
'Like the world turned inside out around me." Still in that strange space of effortless inner balance, Prowl sat up. "I think I understand things a bit better now."
Prime seemed to know what he meant. "There are some who can commit themselves to an ideal; there are others who commit themselves to a person."
"Such faith is a gift not lightly given."
Prime sat up, letting Prowl slide into his lap. "Give him time to grow into it. You said he shows signs of potential."
"Until then .. will you hold my pledge in his place?"
"It would be my honor."
Prowl took Optimus's servo in his and laid his cheek against the knuckles. "For Optimus Prime, then. Whichever dimension he may be from." The waiting would be a trial … but hadn't he waited four million years already? But for now he felt right, like a pebble that had rolled into its proper resting place.
***
Robotsex yay !
Next chapter: Prowl goes home – but the story is far from over!
- 3
- 4
- 5
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Better Halves