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Blue Alert	By : Kettle Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 3389 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Blue Alert
- 1
Title: Blue Alert
Author: Kettle
Rating: Adult+
Disclaimer: All characters are property of Hasbro/Takara.
Summary: A routine duty shift takes an unexpected turn when Red Alert's security cameras pick up something surprising. Set between season 2 and the 1986 movie.

"Well, I think that's everything, Red Alert," Prime declared. He put his datapad aside and shook his security chief's hand. "Send in Sideswipe, please."

"Of course, Optimus," Red Alert replied. He left his leader's office, nodding curtly to the red Lamborghini waiting outside, and went to the recreation lounge.

Inferno greeted him as he entered. "Hey, Red, how'd your evaluation go?"

"Fine," Red Alert replied, "except for one question." He folded his arms and leaned against the table. "Optimus asked me if I was taking enough ‘personal time'." He glanced around the room in irritation. "I don't know why. I've complied fully with his ridiculous order to take a one hour break for every seven we're on duty. All he has to do is check the roster."

A snigger went around the lounge and Red Alert bristled. "What?"

"Uh, Red…" Ironhide set his cube of Energon aside. "That ain't what Prime meant by ‘personal time'."

"Well what in the name of Vector Sigma did he mean?" Red Alert asked impatiently.

"Well…" Ironhide rubbed the back of his neck and smirked slightly. "You know… ‘personal time'…"

Noticing the blank look on Red Alert's face, Perceptor approached and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"What Ironhide means is that Optimus was employing a euphemism – albeit one open to misinterpretation," the microscope explained. "Optimus was actually inquiring as to whether or not you had enough free time to attend to personal matters – or rather, one in particular."

"And that is…?" Red Alert asked irritably.

"Well, in cruder terms…" Perceptor shifted awkwardly. "…he was referring to – polishing one's lenses."

"Flushing your hose," Inferno added.

"Checking your fluid levels," Bumblebee called from his position by the TV monitor.

"Respooling your jib," Grapple supplied helpfully.

"Running your elevator trim back and forth," Powerglide put in.

"KAPOW! Unloading your cannon! BLAM!" Warpath finished.

Red Alert looked at his fellow Autobots in disbelief and horror.

"I don't believe you," he declared angrily. "Why on Earth would Prime ask me something like that?"

"Because we all have needs we gotta take care of," Ironhide explained, "and if we don't have the time and privacy to do it, folks get cranky." He stretched and then continued. "Prime just calls it ‘personal time' because it's a little more delicate than sayin', ‘Okay Red Alert, how often do you pump your own gas?'"

"You're making it up," Red Alert answered, his arms tightly folded across his chestplate. "That's not what he meant. I've seen him use exactly the same wording on his personal schedule. Why would he use that phrase if he really meant…meant…"

"Red Alert, you've been security chief for a long time," Grapple interrupted. "Surely you've had to disturb Prime when he's off duty."

"Of course," Red Alert answered huffily.

"During ‘personal time'?"

Red Alert took half a second to check his memory banks and replied, "Yes, occasionally."

Grapple shifted slightly in his seat. "Then you must have noticed that he made you wait a few moments and that when he finally called you in, he had a tarpaulin over his lap."

A look of alarm crossed Red Alert's face before he turned on his heel and left the room.

"Oh dear," Grapple sighed.

As the other Autobots went back to what they were doing, Inferno leaned back in his seat slightly and gazed after Red Alert. His friend had always been funny about sexual stuff – real uptight. Way, way back when they were first assigned to work together on Cybertron, he'd made a quip – the kind of mild, smirking innuendo that even Perceptor occasionally indulged in – and Red Alert had reacted with such hostility that Inferno had never done it again. It was too bad, because ever since they'd met, Inferno really wanted to pull him to the floor and start a serious fire.

Inferno stretched and straightened in his chair. He'd give Red a little time to cool off and then he'd go check if the security chief was okay. He glanced up at the screen in front of him. He had been playing an Earth video game but he didn't feel like continuing it now. When Red got upset, Inferno felt bad too. He exited the application and decided to go for a spin around the desert.

Red Alert shifted around in his chair in the security centre. The afternoon's events had unsettled him. He gazed up at the bank of monitors in front of him. One showed the main computer room which housed Teletraan One. Another showed the area just inside the entrance to the Ark. A third – from a camera mounted higher up on the volcano – showed the approach to the base. Others showed Wheeljack's workshop, part of the medibay, the storage area where Prime kept his trailer. To Red Alert's left was another monitor, this one showing readouts and status reports on Teletraan One's firewalls and virus detection software. Red gave an irritated sigh and drummed his fingers on the console in front of him. He wished he'd thought to ask Optimus if he could borrow his basketball. Bouncing it would at least give him something to do with his hands.

"Just as long as I didn't ask him during ‘personal time'," he huffed aloud. Primus, the very idea…! And the others just sat there and talked about it - laughed, even! – as if the Autobot leader tugging at himself like an overloaded teenager was a perfectly acceptable topic for conversation. And Prime asking – actually asking… Red still couldn't believe it. Well, as it happened, he had plenty of time for that sort of thing. A quick one every few days just to empty everything out, and that's quite enough, thank you. Even if it does get a little uncomfortable. Some of us have some self control.

Red Alert looked up at the monitors again and then cursed softly. He'd forgotten to tell Optimus that he and Wheeljack had finished installing a camera in the Autobot leader's office. Prime had agreed that it was necessary – the Autobots had begun to store secret documents and other valuables in there as it was deeper inside the base, and hopefully more difficult for intruders to find than the central control room. Red Alert gave the matter some consideration and then decided to test the camera anyway. Optimus would surely be finished with the personnel evaluations by now. He rose from his chair and crossed to a console a few metres to the right of the main one. The main camera console would need to be rewired to accommodate the new camera's controls, Wheeljack had explained, so he'd hooked it up to the secondary console as a temporary measure till the job could be done. Red Alert flipped the switch and looked over his shoulder as the corresponding monitor flickered into life. The camera was discreetly located in the wall high above Prime's desk, giving a full view of the room. Prime and Windcharger were shaking hands across the desk. Red Alert smiled. So far, so good. He sat back in his chair and scanned the other monitors for any unusual activity.

Wheeljack was busy in his workshop, with Perceptor at his side. Ratchet and Sparkplug were carrying out some routine maintenance checks in the medibay. The entrance and approach to the Ark were both clear. The storage area was devoid of activity. Windcharger had left Prime's office and the Autobot leader was sitting at his desk. The Dinobots entered the main computer room and Red Alert noted to his dismay that Grimlock had Prime's basketball. He quickly contacted Prowl and made him aware of the situation. He kept one optic on the computer room and glanced quickly at the other monitors.

There was still no activity at the entrance, the approach or the storage area. Brawn had entered Wheeljack's workshop, apparently with the intent to get under Perceptor's armour. "So guys, what kind of horrible nightmare are you mashing together this evening?" In the medibay, Ratchet had moved a little and Red Alert saw that he and Sparkplug were working on Tracks. In his office, Prime had taken out a portable hologram generator and set it on his desk. Red Alert gave his full attention to the computer room monitor and winced as Grimlock threw the basketball to Slag. The Triceratops tossed it over Swoop's head to where Sludge was waiting. Prowl entered the room just in time and deftly plucked the ball out of the air.

"Hey! You all know the rules – no ball in the house!" the police car admonished. "Go play outside before you break something."

Red Alert sighed with relief and cast his gaze over the other monitors again. The Dinobots passed the entrance camera and showed up briefly on the approach camera as they stomped outside. Wheeljack lightly tapped Brawn on the head with a hefty wrench. Tracks' tuneup was finished and he was sitting up on the examination table. The storage area was still deserted. Prime leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his crotchplate.

Red Alert did a double take.

Optimus moaned softly and undid the catch holding his groin panel in place. Red Alert's jaw dropped as the biggest erection he'd ever seen emerged into view. Optimus had swivelled his chair so that it was parallel to his desk to give himself more room, and Primus, he needed it. His equipment was large even for a Transformer his size. The Autobot leader gently squeezed his rod, stroking it softly with his thumb. His other hand was on his engine block, fingers probing the indentations of his grill. His gaze was fixed on whatever image the hologram generator on his desk was displaying. The monitor's resolution was too low to make it out, but the groan that escaped Prime's vocal processor told Red Alert what it was.

"Elita..."

Red Alert gulped. They were right, he thought incredulously. Memories of times he'd had to bother Prime while the Autobot leader was working in his office flooded his CPU. Had Prime ever made him wait? Had he been doing this when Red Alert's knock came at the door?

I should switch this off, Red Alert thought, but he couldn't tear his optics away. Optimus was slowly running his hand along his huge erection, pausing to gather the fluid leaking from the tip and spread it over the shaft, just as he would if he were about to ease it into Elita One's interface port. He brought his other hand up to his windscreen and began to rub his fingers along one wiper.

"Aahh…"

Red Alert felt a surge of power to his own interfacing unit. He pressed a hand to his groin as the circuitry underneath began to fatten. Now that he thought about it, it had been some time since he'd serviced himself. He should definitely switch off the camera. And delete the data file. He looked down at his lap and couldn't stop a moan. And then get someone to cover for him while he took a quick break to empty his tank.

But he didn't move. Instead he continued to watch.

Prime was going so slowly - and he was touching every part of himself, fingers seeking out every bank of sensors and tickling them just so. It was worlds away from the rapid, guilty shuffle Red Alert allowed himself every few days. From somewhere in his memory banks, a human euphemism popped into Red Alert's CPU – "playing with oneself". Optimus was playing with himself. And it was making Red Alert want to do the same. The Lamborghini whimpered as his leader leaned back, optics dimmed, and stroked a finger up along one of his smokestacks. Oh, Primus, what a show. His erection nudged insistently against his crotchplate. Red Alert released a shuddering sigh of need. His gaze suddenly fell on the cloth he used to clean the monitors. He glanced down at his lap and then over his shoulder. He could finish himself off under the desk. It wouldn't take long. He grabbed the cloth and unsnapped his groin panel. His sensitive pole responded instantly to his touch. Red Alert gazed up at the monitor as he began to thrust into his hand.

The door suddenly opened behind him. Red Alert reflexively squeezed his bulging shaft and swallowed a cry of pain. Caught!

"Hey, Red, I just came by to see if you were okay after what Grapple said earlier," Inferno declared. He stopped in his tracks as he spotted the images on the seventh monitor. "Whoa."

Red Alert clenched a fist nervously and put both hands on the console as unobtrusively as possible. He shot a panicked glance at the fire truck. Inferno was staring up at the live feed of the Autobot leader pleasuring himself.

"Prime sure has one heck of a hose," he remarked. He looked at Red Alert and smirked. "So this is what you get up to in here, huh?"

Red Alert bristled guiltily. "I was simply testing a new camera and there he was!" he snapped. He gestured to the monitor, averting his gaze. "I mean, who does that in their office anyway?" He glanced down at himself and grimaced. "Anyone could walk in!"

Inferno didn't reply – he was gazing up at the monitor. Red Alert looked across at the secondary console, tantalisingly far away. His aching rod stubbornly refused to deflate. He had only one chance.

"Inferno –"

The fire truck didn't move. Red Alert tried again.

"Inferno!"

No response.

Exasperated, Red Alert pushed back his chair and stood up, ruby rod pointing at his chest, and stormed over to the secondary console. A stunned Inferno stared at him.

"Red…"

Red Alert turned his back to Inferno and vainly tried to cover his straining erection with his hands.

"Yes I was watching, all right?!" he shouted. "It, it ‘got my motor running', it ‘ignited my sparkplugs', or whatever other juvenile euphemism is in vogue at the moment!" He glowered at the floor, beyond shame. "I didn't plan it like this but then I don't expect you to understand. So go ahead and make whatever stupid jokes you want and then leave me alone!"

He braced himself for whatever was to come, fighting back a trickle of cleaning fluid that was oozing out of one optic sensor.

"Don't hide, Red."

Inferno's words were uncharacteristically quiet. Red Alert looked around sharply. His friend was gazing at him – at his body – with an expression that bordered on reverence.

"What?"

Inferno shrugged. "You – you look…" He broke off and gave a brief, nervous grin. "I mean, I knew you were well-constructed, but…"

Red Alert scowled and turned away. Inferno reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Red, I don't mean it like that!" he insisted. Red Alert pulled free of Inferno's grip and eyed the fire truck warily. Inferno looked at the floor. "No jokes, Red," he said softly. "I wanna see you." Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanna do more than look."

Red Alert stared at him in surprise and disbelief. "You – you do?"

Inferno shrugged and gave him an embarrassed smile. "Yeah." He eyed Red Alert's equipment, still partially hidden by the Lamborghini's hands. "For the longest time." He approached and reached for Red Alert's fingers.

"May I?" he asked.

Red Alert was too stunned to do more than give a single nod. Inferno took the Lamborghini's hands and gently pulled them away from his sensitive rod. His expression – almost awestruck – made Red Alert feel a little nervous.

"You know, this is probably the most embarrassed I've ever been," he said with an awkward chuckle, "and yet this thing still won't go down."

Inferno smirked and slid his arms around Red Alert's waist. "Maybe that's because we're being naughty," he drawled.

Despite himself, a tingle ran down Red Alert's central support column. "Er – perhaps," he replied.

Sensing his friend's nervousness, Inferno let go and backed up to the door, locking it.

"Well," he declared, "I can see yours…" He started to undo the bolts on his front and rear pelvic panels. "…only fair I show you mine."

Red Alert stared as a long, obsidian erection rose into view, jutting sturdily out from Inferno's waist. It brought to mind the magnificent sight that had started all this. He shuddered slightly as a trickle of hot lubricant oozed out of his own equipment and slid down the tingling shaft.

Inferno closed the distance between them and pulled Red Alert into his arms. Red Alert moaned into the fire truck's mouth as Inferno kissed him. Basic programming took over and he kissed back, rubbing his pole against his friend's pulsing rod. Inferno broke the kiss and grinned at him, then slid down Red Alert's body. Red Alert gasped and trembled as Inferno took his equipment into his mouth. He'd never been serviced like this – or at all – before. He hung onto the console behind him, struggling not to thrust his hips up.

Inferno eagerly gulped down the lubricant that was steadily leaking from Red Alert's swollen circuitry. Over the years he'd pictured himself doing everything possible with Red Alert and he was delighted that the Lamborghini was reacting to a blowjob just as he'd always imagined. He gently stroked his friend's thigh as he worked, paying attention to the moans and gasps coming from above him. When Red Alert's pole was good and greasy from a mix of drool and cum, Inferno pulled back.

Red Alert whimpered at the loss of Inferno's warm mouth. He looked down at his friend in confusion.

"Wh-why –"

"I had something more fun in mind," Inferno explained with a grin. He pulled Red Alert down on top of him, fingers seeking out the delicate sensor banks buried in Red Alert's outer plating. Red Alert moaned as more fluid bubbled out of his burning pole. Inferno rubbed his own equipment against his friend, smearing lubricant on Red Alert's chassis.

"Put it in me, Red," Inferno groaned. "I wanna feel you inside me."

Red Alert shook off his pleasure-induced daze and shifted around, trying to find a comfortable angle for penetration. Inferno tilted his hips up to give him better access, bending his knees and putting both feet flat on the floor. Red Alert carefully guided his slick pole to Inferno's rear entrance.

"Aaugh…" Inferno grunted as Red Alert eased his bulging steel into his exhaust port. "Don't stop, Red," he added, as the security chief looked at him in concern. "Gimme all you got, I got plenty of room."

Red Alert shivered in pleasure and slid all the way home. He paused on top of his friend, savouring the various sensations being relayed by his telemetry systems. Inferno's long cock pressed against his chassis, warm and throbbing against his outer casing. The fire engine's exhaust port was snug around his own equipment, itself pulsing steadily. There was a delicious ache in Red Alert's holding tank: not urgent, not bursting – not yet – but full all the same, and when he shifted his weight he felt the viscous cum move inside him. Inferno was rubbing his back in languid circles. Red Alert gave a soft moan of pleasure. It all felt so very right…

"You okay, buddy?" Inferno asked quietly.

"Mmm," Red Alert answered with a smile. "Just enjoying the moment."

Inferno smiled back, then asked shyly, "Am – am I your first?"

Red Alert felt a twinge of embarrassment. "First in four million years," he lied.

"I'm honoured," Inferno replied gently. He pushed his rear against Red Alert slightly, drawing the Lamborghini a little further inside him. Red Alert took his cue and began to thrust into Inferno. The fire truck's optics flickered and dimmed in pleasure, the sight sending a thrill through Red Alert's sensory system.

Inferno moaned as Red Alert's fat cock rubbed against the internal sensors lining his exhaust port. He slid a hand between them and stroked his own aching steel in time to his partner's movements.

"Oh, Red," he murmured. He used his other hand to gently stroke the Lamborghini's twin horns. "You feel so good…"

Red Alert shivered at the contact and increased the speed of his thrusts. Inferno's fingers were doing amazing things to his external sensors and a delicious, almost unbearable pressure was starting to build deep inside him. He could feel lubricant running down the delicate tube within his interfacing circuitry, keeping the contact between them smooth and frictionless. He moaned and thrust deeper into the undulating fire truck beneath him.

"Aww, yeah!" Inferno exclaimed. He felt a powerful gurgle in his too-full tank and put both hands on Red Alert's pistoning aft. "Do it to me, Red! Fuck me hard!"

Hearing Inferno talk like that set off a five alarm blaze in Red Alert's pelvic unit. Red Alert groaned, whole body shaking, as his strokes became more erratic. The sports car clutched his partner tightly, almost weeping as a powerful tingle ran down the length of his shaft. He was going to die, he was going to burst, oh, Primus –

"Oh, Inferno!" Red Alert sobbed as oily fluid gushed from the tip of his equipment into his best friend's exhaust. He buried his face in the fire truck's shoulder, hips jerking uncontrollably as he rode out an incredible orgasm. Inferno held Red Alert tight with one arm and finished himself off with the other.

Both Autobots lay on the floor in silence, cooling systems working overtime to reduce the temperature of their overloaded bodies. Eventually Inferno shifted. He enjoyed the closeness, but the weight of the other male was growing uncomfortable.

"Red…"

There was a moan in reply. Inferno tilted his head slightly and gazed at the Lamborghini, who was limp all over, and stroked his back.

"Y'okay, Red?"

Red Alert sighed and lifted his head. "Rather wobbly," he replied with a weak smile.

Inferno wrapped his arms around him and helped him to sit up.

"Aw, Red," he murmured.

Red Alert winced as Inferno's cooling load began to ooze down his chassis. "We'd better get cleaned up."

Inferno squirmed as lukewarm Lamborghini cum leaked out of his exhaust. "Yeah." He fumbled in his cab for a rag while Red Alert grabbed the cloth he'd abandoned earlier. Both friends mopped up the oily fluid. Red Alert replaced his panels and wiped up a few spots that the less fastidious fire truck had missed.

His chassis clean, Inferno folded up the rag and placed it inside his rear panel in case any more cum dripped out later. He bolted his crotchplate back on and gazed up at the monitor. "I don't believe it," he exclaimed. "He's still going!"

Red Alert leaned against Inferno's shoulder and together they watched the Autobot leader enter the home stretch. Prime's whole body was tense, his left hand clutching at his desk while his right hand was almost a blur. Suddenly he gave an agonised groan and pushed his hips upwards. An impressive jet of cum gushed out of his huge pole and spurted off-camera.

Inferno shook his head in amazement. "Stuff just keeps coming and coming." He glanced at Red Alert. "You think he ever flooded Elita One's engine?"

"You're disgusting," Red Alert answered, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Inferno smiled back. He looked back up at the screen. Prime was replacing his armour. The Autobot leader rested for a moment, then left his chair. Inferno broke into a wide smile and patted Red Alert on the arm.

"He's gettin' a mop!"

The two friends watched in amusement as Prime set about cleaning up his office. Inferno guffawed as the Autobot leader directed the mop at the ceiling. Red Alert grimaced, but felt his limp equipment twitch. What volume. What power.

Prime disappeared from the camera view for a moment and then returned to his chair without the mop. He picked up the hologram generator and gazed at it for a few moments.

They heard him murmur, "I love you."

Inferno shifted guiltily and exchanged an uneasy glance with Red Alert. The red and white Lamborghini stood up and made his way to the secondary console on shaky legs. He flipped the camera off and, with a few keystrokes, isolated the recording and deleted it.

"There," he said quietly. He looked over his shoulder and gave Inferno a sheepish smile. "All gone."

Inferno returned his friend's grin and got to his feet.

"Well I, I guess I should be going," he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Let you get back to your work…"

"Oh," Red Alert replied. Inferno interrupted him before he could continue, looking at him with hopeful optics.

"Unless you want me to stay?"

Red Alert's first instinct was to say Yes, of course - he wanted nothing more than to cuddle in Inferno's arms. But he still had a job to do, and he winced to himself as he realised just how derelict in his duty he'd been.

"No, that's all right," he answered. "But... do you think we could meet up when my shift is over?" Inferno's face lit up and Red Alert returned his smile. "I really would like to spend some time with you."

Inferno curled an arm around Red Alert's waist and kissed him, long and slow. Red Alert moaned and reached behind him for a handhold as his legs went weak yet again. Inferno released him and hit the door locking mechanism.

"It's a date."

The End
- 1
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