Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2017-01-31
Words:
1,195
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
106
Bookmarks:
9
Hits:
1,449

Work that neck

Summary:

Optimus has a sore neck, Ratchet as a professional helps him out. A fic I wrote in 2010-something, for a friend's and my own need for TFP Optimus' neck cables :-) Don't tell me they aren't intriguing.

Warnings: Giant robots rubbing each other, horrible attempt at writing about robots. No "actual" sex though, just touching with hands and oral parts, you know.

Work Text:

The Prime groaned, his optics shuddering as knowing fingers stroked down his stiff neck cabling and hydraulics. Optimus' neck had been sore for a few days, causing him major processor aches and problems with moving properly. It had steadily became a problem, the semi was unable to focus on his work. He was sure the rigidity in his neck was caused by a particularly hard punch to his faceplates by Megatron; he had heard a snap when his head was hit and tossed backwards. He wasn't going to tell this to Ratchet though, he'd just stopped his earlier rant about Optimus neglecting his health.
Another groan escaped his lips as Ratchet rubbed over a stuck nerve cable. The medic hummed unpleasantly. Ratchet shook his head, letting his optics study the behind of Optimus' helm and neck. The Prime was currently seated on a medberth, trying his best to relax under the probing fingers.

"I can't understand how you've managed to do this," Ratchet rumbled, missing the 'I-know-nothing-I'm-innocent' look on the truck's faceplates. The Prime remained silent, waiting for Ratchet to continue with his inspection.
Ratchet snorted, then slowly moved his fingers along the sore cabling, stroking and coaxing them to relax from their lock. The medic sent faint magnetic pulses from his fingers, trying to speed up the process.
He couldn't help but grin smugly as the Prime let out a very undignified noise and shivered harshly. Definitely in pleasure. Ratchet slipped his fingertips underneath Optimus' jaw, tilting the Prime's head upwards to ease his job.
Oh Primus, The Prime thought, his optics flickering on and off. Ratchet's actions felt heavenly. Sure, his cabling hurt, but the way the ambulance rubbed them back into prime condition alongside the soothing pulsing made his engines purr. Wait.
Optimus tensed as an audible purr echoed loudly from beneath his chassis. He forced the noise to quiet down, looking awkwardly to the side. It was good Ratchet couldn't see his face, but then again he couldn't see Ratchet's either.
The medic could barely keep himself from chuckling as the Prime's engine blared alive and died down just as quickly. His leader clearly enjoyed the attention and he was going to do so as well.
Ratchet stroked the slowly loosening neckcables with rolling motions, skimming over the hydraulics, sensor nodes and energon lines. The orange mech soon noticed the semi was purring again, his head lolling forwards with a occasional twitch as Ratchet hit a sensitive spot.

Priiimus, Optimus groaned mentally, a sigh leaving his lips. He was finally getting some help with his discomfort and some more. The way Ratchet rubbed a sensitive spot right underneath the edge of his helm got him running hot- oh there it was again. The truck's engines gave a rather loud roar that the Prime tried to cover with a coughing fit. He felt Ratchet's fingers search around for a while, then rubbed over that certain place again and again, driving Optimus frustratingly hot.
Optimus squeezed his optics closed, trying to think about all kinds of turn offs. It wasn't working Primus damn it! He could feel Ratchet's cool vents against his neck. Curse that slagger to the pit! If the Prime would curse, of course.
Before Ratchet could even react, Opimus had pulled the medic to straddle his thighs with a swift motion. He himself laid comfortably on the medberth, engines growling and emitting strong waves of heat. The medic stared down at the Prime, whose hands were placed over his aft, wholly startled.

The semi almost started feeling awkward, dreading the ambulance would hit him because of his shock, but then the medic leaned down to mouth his neck, fingers digging into the seams underneath the truck's window panels. Optimus sighed in relief, then immediately groaned and arched off of the berth as a pleasurable tingle caressed his circuits.

Ratchet kissed, bit, licked and kneaded Optimus' neck with fervor, optics dimmed in lust. Frag, the Prime made the most delicious noises, small gasps and undignified moans leaving the leader of the Autobots. That only made Ratchet even more turned on. But this wasn't about him getting what he wanted, needed. It was about giving the Prime the help he required.

The medic mouthed slowly, oh so slowly, the red and blue mech's neck cables one by one, his lips caressing over joints, sucking a hydraulic here and there. His glossa dipped between wires, reaching deep to touch the delicate circuitry underneath. The contact caused a tiny electric zap between his wet glossa and the Prime's inner workings, causing the semi to arch up with a strangled cry of pleasure. Ratchet pulled away from him to avoid getting his glossa caught between the spasming cabling.
The mech wore a slag-eating grin as he watched Optimus writhe on the berth. Oh this could be so much fun. He pushed his aft into Prime's franctically stroking fingers. Ratchet leaned down again, resting his elbows comfortably against Optimus' chest, his fingers dipping underneath the edges of Optimus' helm to try and find the earlier sensitive spot.

The medic probed the mechanics right under the vents adorning the semi's cheeks. He watched intently as Optimus' optics shuddered in pleasure, mouth slightly opened in a blissful expression. The Prime trembled underneath Ratchet, jolts of strengthening pleasure surging through his circuits. The truck bucked up, searching for any kind of friction and his fingers gripped the medic's aft tightly. A very unlike-Prime sob escaped the semi's lips, pleading for more, pleading for release.
The ambulance leaned down to trail his glossa along the tempting chevron, he started the magnetic pulses again while rubbing his fingers up and down, back and forth over Optimus' once sore neck wiring.
By this point Prime's hands were searching frantically along Ratchet's back, trying to grip onto something. He pulled the medic flush against his awfully hot plating, moaning shamelessly as all sense escaped his processor. He'd be ashamed afterwards though.
It was the hard bite to his chevron and the rough kneading to a soft spot that sent him keening over the edge.

Optimus grabbed onto Ratchet's back, clinging onto the medic as a low cry of overload induced static burst from his vocalizer. He pressed his face against the ambulance's shoulder, trembling as electricity ran across his plating, zapping and jumping between the two mechs' platings. Ratchet groaned as well, feeling the Prime's pleasure all too well, as if the strongly tingling discharging energy in the semi's circuitry was in his own.
It took a moment for Optimus to come down from his overload, shuddering in the afterwaves. He was surprised Ratchet hadn't pulled away yet, he just lay there on top of the Prime. Once the overload ebbed away completely and the charge had stopped caressing his plating, Ratchet sat up to look down at the relaxed and sated looking Prime.

Optimus blinked his optics open, looking back at Ratchet who was currently grinning. A set of fingers caressed the now fixed neck, drawing a shudder from the Prime and promising more to come.

[Optional ending: then the Prime got up, gathered his balls and went outside to play basketball.]