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Tabletop Sex

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Optimus’ spark swelled with pride as he watched Ratchet tap away at the Decepticon keyboard, smiling wide under his mask. His medic was scuffed and beaten, but even still, he was stunning under the soft blue glow of the monitor. Ratchet had a look of peace that he hadn’t worn for most of his life. It was a look that glistened with pride, excitement, and relief. Optimus drank it in, thankful that the others had left to sweep the warship. He was alone to gawk at the mech he desired more than anything. He believed it was time to make good on those wants. “I have waited a millenia to see you smile like that.” Optimus rumbled softly, his mask sliding back. 


Ratchet looked up at him, venting in a serene, relaxed manner. “I’ve waited a millenia to see an end to this.” He said softly. “I’ve wanted this so badly. This is everything I’ve fought for.”


“You’ve delivered us here.” Optimus stepped closer, hovering closely. “I am proud to have you as my CMO, and friend, Ratchet.” 


“I like to think it was my wonderful leader who brought us to where we are.” Ratchet dismissed, shaking his helm as he went back to tapping away. His smile remained intact, and Optimus wanted to kiss it so badly. 


“I hope to see you smile like this more often. You look beautiful when you do.” Optimus drank in the way Ratchet paused in surprise, looking back up at him. The Prime moved closer, until he was standing right at his medic’s side. “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again, when Megatron took you. It evoked feelings of regret in me.” 


Ratchet was staring at him with wide optics. He looked puzzled and lost. “I…” 


Optimus bent down, reaching out to take Ratchet’s chin, lifting his gaze to make unbreaking eye contact. “I regret never doing this.” The Prime murmured, dipping his helm down to brush Ratchet’s lips. They were warm, and barely parted, enough for Optimus to slip his glossa in to taste his mouth. It wasn’t quite time for that, however. 


His medic was tense, momentarily. It didn’t seem to take long for that to vanish, and he was cupping his leader’s helm, making a soft noise of approval. He sucked at Optimus’ lower lip, asking for more. The Prime rumbled and slipped his glossa into Ratchet’s eager mouth, letting his large servos wander down to stroke Ratchet’s waist and hips. 


Ratchet gasped as he was grabbed under his thighs and lifted, placed gently on the edge of the table. His cheeks flushed as Optimus pushed his knees apart and moved in between them, dipping his helm down to nip at his jaw. “You have more than kissing in mind.” He said breathily. 


Optimus took both of his servos, holding them in his and pulling back for a moment. “If you do not want this, we will continue no further. I admit, I am being more… direct. I could not imagine a moment more without acting upon my emotions.”


“How could I say no?” Ratchet purred, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “I wish you had done this sooner, however.” 


Optimus pressed their forehelms together. “I intend on making up for lost time.” He smiled, slowly beginning to roll his hips so their panels ground together. “Are you well enough for this?” He asked, even as he was grinding and kissing Ratchet’s neck. 


“If I could handle Predaking pounding me, I certainly can handle you doing the same.” The medic joked, tilting his helm back so Optimus could explore his sensitive neck cables. He gasped as he felt Optimus’ modesty panel slide back, and a hard member extending to touch his closed array. Ratchet paused before looking down, swallowing at the sight of the monstrous spike that now rested against him. “That being said…” He blushed as the spike twitched under his gaze. “I do have some concerns.” 


Optimus massaged his thighs, watching him. “I’m listening, Old Friend.”


“You’re fragging huge, Optimus. You’ve always been a large mech, but with the upgrades the forge gave you…” Ratchet shook his helm. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to take you.” 


The Prime nodded in understanding. “There is quite the size difference between us. I understand your concern. Perhaps I’ll take a look at what we can do…” He leaned forward, engines rumbling lowly. “Let us see how much I can loosen you up.” His servo pressed against Ratchet’s closed panel, and it opened at the pressure. Ratchet gasped as a large, blunt digit traced through the folds of his valve, and the passage clenched in excitement. 


“O-Oh… It’s been a long time.” Ratchet moaned as Optimus’ thumb teased the nub of sensors crowning his valve, while one of his longer digits slipped into his wet opening. “Mmm…”


“Fear not, if the size difference is too much, we will move onto other methods of pleasure.” Optimus smiled as Ratchet pushed his legs apart wider, whimpering for more. “You’re so wet already.” The Prime observed, feeling the wet gush of lubricant surround his finger. 


“Perhaps because I have a big strong mech fondling my valve.” Ratchet kissed him firmly, moaning into his mouth as another digit pushed inside him with a little more difficulty. Optimus’ fingers were so thick and long, he wondered how much he could take without pain. He was anxious to know if he would be able to take the big, hard spike that was twitching impatiently. Optimus scissored his digits, testing the give of Ratchet’s tight valve. It sucked and milked at his movements, greedy for more. He was eager to give it just that, but he needed to massage those inner walls further. “Optimus…” Ratchet gasped, whimpering. “Th... Thank you for being so gentle.” He threw his helm back as Optimus hit the perfect set of nodes, crying out.  


Optimus was satisfied that Ratchet’s lower half was remaining so relaxed, it was much easier to massage his muscles into softening enough to take the penetration it soon faced. Lubricant was dripping into Optimus’ servo, warm and wet. “Are you in any pain?” The Prime asked softly. 


“No, no, you’re so…” Ratchet closed his optics and moaned, trailing off to enjoy the way Optimus stroked him so gently. “Good…” 


“If you are feeling no pain now, I’m certain my spike will not be an issue for your valve.” Optimus smiled, watching how beautiful he looked when he was enjoying himself. “Shall I make you overload this way, first?”


“I’m an old ‘bot, Optimus, I can only take one.” Ratchet straightened up, sighing as Optimus withdrew his digits. His optics found that throbbing spike that waited for his attention. He reached down and stroked it, smiling at the way it twitched. He pushed against Optimus’ chest, urging him to step back so he could hop down. 


Optimus’ optics whirled in excitement as Ratchet lowered to knees before him, bringing his face level with his spike. A moan left him as Ratchet pressed a kiss to the flared head, leading a trail of kisses down the spike, so he could drag his glossa back up again. “Ratchet…” Optimus groaned. Ratchet carefully took the head into his mouth, suckling on it lightly before taking a bit more. Optimus was impressed that Ratchet could take as much as he did, sucking shamelessly, optics trained on his to catch his reaction. He fell into a steady rhythm, pushing his helm up and down the shaft, pumping what he couldn’t fit into his mouth with his servo. Ratchet made soft gagging sounds, but didn’t fail to keep his rhythm steady. Optimus trembled with the effort of refraining from thrusting into Ratchet’s throat, groaning as the tight passage clenched on him wetly. “Ratchet… Oh, Ratchet…” Optimus grunted as Ratchet increased the pace. 


His charge was building up embarrassingly fast. It had been a long time since he had been touched like this, and it had never been this good. Ratchet took the spike down his throat like it was nothing, pumping the base in perfect rhythm. The medic slowed for a moment, dipping his helm and devouring the spike to it’s base, and Optimus gasped, involuntarily jerking his hips into the sensation. Ratchet continued his rhythm, but now, he took the entire spike with a bit more difficulty, working hard to swallow Optimus’ girth. 


“I’m close,” Optimus sputtered. 


Ratchet seemed to be able to tell without him saying it. He was going faster, faster, until he withdrew and pumped the spike with his servo for the last few strokes to bring it to completion. Optimus felt guilty, for a brief spell, as his spike spurted transfluid directly onto Ratchet’s handsome face, falling over his lips and chin. Ratchet didn’t seem to mind, gasping and taking long breaths.


“Ratchet… I never thought… You’d be so talented with this,” Optimus panted. 


“How do you think I passed my medical exams?” Ratchet joked. Optimus flashed him a horrified look. “Relax, I just studied hard. Speaking of which,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Optimus’ semi-erect spike. “Are you ready to spike me?”


The sight of Ratchet smiling up at him, covered in his transfluid, brought the hardness back to his member. Optimus helped his medic up, turning him around and gently bending him over the tabletop. “Spread your legs, Old Friend.” He purred, running a servo over his well sculpted aft. Ratchet obediently widened his stance, keeping his knees apart so Optimus could move in. He gasped at the sensation of a thick head nudging his entrance, and he bit his lip. “Are you ready, Ratchet?”


“Just put it in already,” Ratchet hissed. “You owe me an overload, Prime, now frag me. ” 


“As you wish.” 


Optimus pushed in gently, watching for signs of pain, but Ratchet seemed to be taking it in stride. He was gasping, pushing back against the penetration, moaning for more. 


“You’re so tight,” Optimus rumbled, pausing when he was fully sheathed. He pulled his hips back, and then glided in again, rocking into his medic at a steady pace. 


“Mmmmh, Optimus…” Ratchet buried his face in his arms and just focused on keeping his legs locked as Optimus pushed in and out of him. Optimus held him stationary, aiming his hips to dig into deep ceiling nodes. “Frag, more…” 


Optimus increased his pace, rocking into him and listening to the clank of armor and the wet squelch of Ratchet’s valve. “Ratchet…” The Prime groaned. Ratchet’s valve was hot and dripping, it welcomed him in with suckling calipers that milked him in deeper. He imagined what it was going to feel like to release his transfluid deep inside him, leaving his mark deep inside his medic. His pace increased again, and Ratchet was jolting with every powerful thrust, swaying in place as his strong leader pistoned into him. “Say my name.” Optimus ordered, grunting with every thrust of his hips.


“Optimus, frag, Optimus…” Ratchet’s voice was muffled by his arms. “Nngh, you’re hitting so fragging deep…” 


The Prime looked down at Ratchet’s aft, and how it tremored every time it connected with the front of his groin. He growled, reaching down to grip it firmly, listening to how Ratchet squeaked. Optimus wondered, for a moment, how Ratchet would react if he…


Oh !” Ratchet jolted and glanced over his shoulder. “Y-You’re going to spank me? Primus, Optimus, you surprise me every f-fragging day.” He yelped as Optimus smacked his aft again, fragging him harder and faster. 


“Boss, we’re nearly at Cybertron.” Bulkhead’s voice rang over Optimus’ comm link.


The Prime didn’t spare a single frag, continuing to pound into his medic as he responded, “Thank you, Bulkhead. I will see you soon.” Ratchet covered his mouth to keep from embarrassing himself, at least until Optimus’ focus was on him again.


“Optimusss…” The medic moaned. “Harder, more, please…”


Optimus jerked his hips into him harder, and he shouted, immediately covering his mouth in embarrassment. “I’ve always wondered how vocal you’d be when interfacing.” Optimus thought aloud. 


“Fragging pervert.” 


Another increase of pace was what it took to drive Ratchet over the cliff, pounding into him with the scrape of metal and the wet sucking noises of his hungry valve. Optimus kept thrusting through his partner’s overload, groaning at how his valve clenched and gripped him tight. Ratchet threw his helm back and moaned in bliss, knees trembling. He crumbled, once he was done, falling limp and letting Optimus support him fully. Optimus gripped his hips and kept up this thrusting, listening to the soft noises that were leaving his deflated medic. Finally, his own overload struck, and in a quick moment’s decision, he pulled out and let his spike release his fluid onto Ratchet’s back and aft. His medic shuddered, gasping. 


They stilled, panting, gasping, recuperating. “You look stunning, covered in my transfluid.” Optimus said aloud before he could stop himself, and he immediately slapped a servo over his mouth. Ratchet rolled over and grinned up at him. 


“You think so?” He drawled, spreading his legs to let Optimus glimpse his dripping valve. 


Optimus was relieved that he liked it, and felt himself relax. “I think you are absolutely gorgeous. I hope we can do this again.” 


Ratchet leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Yes, well, we will worry about that later. For now, let’s worry about how we’re going to get your transfluid off of me before the others see.”