red_diode_district | Everybody learns from *somebody*

Everybody learns from somebody

Passing the doors into the library, Megatron was pleased he had gotten the schedule correct as he saw who was sitting at the desk. If it had been completely necessary due to his own schedule, he'd have come here when he could. But since he didn't have to...

Ignoring the faint itch interfacing hadn't properly gotten rid off, Megatron approached the librarian at a lazy, casual walk. It was a pity he hadn't seen any signs at all that the surprisingly fine-lined truck-alted mech had the inclination he was looking for. Things would have been a lot easier (and, really, pleasing) if he had.

As it was, since there was no one left in the current arena circuit that he trusted with what he had to hand over, perhaps he would have to avail himself of one of the clubs. It made an irritable twitch slither down the treads on his shoulders, the thought that he'd have to do that.

It was ages since he'd had to go to an open venue like that to simply get his needs properly taken care of.

And he really would have preferred the librarian. Orion Pax - it hadn't taken anything to find out the designation when to found the schedule - was witty, somehow diplomatically argumentative and didn't give in if he knew he was right or wanted to stand for his opinion, actually had some smarts to go with said use of words and Megatron wanted to know more.

More, and more personally (most of the earlier he'd simply learned over the few times he'd been in the library when the mech was, but hadn't actually approached him). So this time, he decided to actually use the librarian's assistance in what he was looking for... and perhaps get something more out of it.

"Excuse me?"

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He should probably not feel as smug as he did as that engine rev drifted through the room. That was all the reaction he'd need to know that he was certainly being... appreciated.

The widening bloom of Orion's field in addition to that wasn't just appreciation, but part of what he'd been after. And then his field briefly fluttered at the charged slide when it passed over and beyond him, both because Orion was stepping close, and because it was just that expansive when he let it out.

"I suppose that's a compliment, that you don't feel intimidated or notice my height all the time..." trailing off with a chuckle, Megatron tilted his helm up to grin shamelessly at Orion, meeting his optics far too boldly for the situation, "and as for a time limit? Yes, we are. That's another thing to keep in mind - always establish a time limit for scenes. It helps both of us. A cycle, since I'm used to this, but you are free to end it early."

It didn't, exactly, feel right to set at least part of the rules so freely, as it should, technically, come from Orion - but that could come later. So instead he leaned faintly into the touch.

"Sounds fine." Orion agreed. It was only fair, after all.

Optics dimming in pleasure as he felt Megatron's field flutter, his own field pulsed down and out, to it's maximum expanse. Not pressing or harsh, but there; out in all it's heavy, natural glory.

"It should be. I'm not intimidated by it. Though I certainly enjoy it."

He grinned right back down at Megatron, apparently not objecting to the open, shameless staring - he was too busy purring in appreciation of the rare chance to look down at his gladiator.

"Even like this, when you have to look up a me for once." He chuckled, patting his hand back over the thick, protective helm armor, thumb ghosting over the edge where armor met thinner, sensitive face plates.

A cycle would probably be more than what would be necessary for a first attempt, but he was, as he'd said, used to it. And if it went well Orion would get a better feel for it than by it lasting only one or two breems... and it could, after all, be disrupted.

"I might have to work harder then." Not that he actually wanted Orion intimidated by him. That would quite defeat the purpose of both their regular relationship and this possible angle of it.

Optics dimming, Megatron hummed, the smirk still hovering about his lips.

"And it can happen far more often if you like this and it works out," Megatron said with a tilt of his helm and a quirk to the upper ridge of an optic. His engine revved at the end, unable to hide the rising anticipation and arousal at the thought... and what was already going on, as tame as it was.

Orion's hand on his faceplate was, however, such a typically Orion thing to do, that it was both charming and causing a faint flicker of charge along circuits.

"You can try, but you would have to change a great deal to intimidate me. Unless you planned on tossing me into the ring with you. That should work," he joked, optics bright.

Reaching down, he cupped Megatron's helm with his free hand as well, briefly holding his head between both hands. Though gentle, his engine purring only deepened with the exploration, petting armor, cheek and jaw line; fingers passed over protected fuel lines in the neck, the heavy shoulder guards, and down Megatron's left arm until he 'captured' a wrist, pulling a thick, scared hand up near his face.

"I...might just think I'm enjoying this enough to try again in the future."

Orion grinned, his eager engine revving pointedly obvious as he spoke, nuzzling battered knuckles before placing a kiss to the palm of Megatron's captured hand.

"But we'll have to see the end to know for sure, hmm? Now, optics off."

"It's in the plans for your training," Megatron murmured as Orion explored his faceplate and down along his throat, a sliding caress that, normally, might annoy him a little in its propreitary feel. Right now, though it fit, right in along with that powerful field humming around him, a testament to Orion's full potential if nothing else.

And perhaps he should've expected the order about turning off his optics, since he'd done it to Orion - though despite his comment about it earlier, Orion probably didn't completely understand his aversion towards it.

But even so, with a faint twitch to his shoulders and an arch look up at Orion that deliberatedly delayed a few seconds, he did turn his optics off. Even if it brought back some tension and slightly huffy thought that if Orion wanted to punish him for something, he should have been a bit more specific... though most probably Orion was just going with what he wanted.

"Are you doing what I did, Orion..?" There was amusement in his question, even with the faint tension in his shoulders.

Orion laughed out loud at Megatron's 'agreement', giving his hand a fond squeeze.

"I'll have to keep my schedule open for that match, then."

He did not seem to mind the delay, but he was starting to take increased note of the little 'disobediences' Megatron was pointedly displaying. He was catching on, and he could see how they might well become too obnoxious to tolerate in the future.

For now, however, he could only note them with amusement.

"Mhmmhm," Orion hummed his agreement, only belatedly noting the larger mech's tension after a several seconds of pleased basking had ticked past.

Hadn't Megatron mentioned something about disliking sensory deprivation at some point?

...Whoops. Well, scrap.

"...It's not a punishment. Simply fair-play and my own lack of more 'creative' ideas at the moment," he amended, curling Megatron's captured knuckles to press another kiss to his hand.

He considered rescinding the order, but it felt oddly 'weak' to do so, so quickly - and Megatron was free to use his safe word. He would be sure re-allow it soon enough.

"It'll be a while yet before you're ready for something like that." Then he snorted, shaking his helm slowly, lips quirking into a faint smile at the brush of Orion's lips against his hand.

"I thought that might be it. Just try to remember for the next time, hmm." Cocking his helm, Megatron curled his free hand on his lap, spread his knees a little - not far enough to impede him and despite the lack of sight there was a faint thrill that flittered along his circuits at the thought of Orion getting to learn the finer points of positioning.

He resisted the urge to push his field out, though he let it briefly flex before it settled back at 'proper' distance and focused on Orion's grip on his hand instead, where his knees and stabilisers were touching the floor, and the faint flux of the airflow through the apartment.

A tiny bit of sensory deprivation wouldn't ever - not nowadays - be enough to make him use his safe word, especially since Orion was learning and this was, really, a harmless mistake. He could deal with this.

"That I can do," Orion agreed, faintly irritated with his own mistake. But it turned out alright, so.

Gaze dropping, Orion grinned when Megatron spread his thighs. Releasing the large hand with a final nuzzle, Orion placed his own palm on the gladiator's chest, fingers sliding down to linger on a hip.

"Was that an invitation?" He teased, too used to their usual banter to phrase it as a sort of direct order - but his field did push noticeably back at Megatron's little testing flex.

Now that it was out and fully expanded, it was more quick to push back against the little 'disobediences' than Orion consciously would.

Stretching up into the touch on his chest with a little arch since he hadn't been given any order to remain still, no matter what - which could be a fun game to play - Megatron hummed, vocally and engine-wise both.

"If it pleases you to be so, it certainly could be." He didn't spread his thighs further, but since Orion had dropped his hand, he shifted both his arms to behind his back, grasping each wrist with the opposite hand and twitched his hips up slightly.

Orion hadn't asked for it, of course, but Orion, even if he'd seen some things in his research, probably didn't remember half of it, and beyond that didn't know what he could ask for.

So he'd simply have to show him, and while Orion might come to want his hands positioned in another way in the future, like this they were out of the way, unused, and left his frame open... the little hitch of his hips was just Megatron both offering and taunting by doing what he technically shouldn't - presume to give what wasn't his to give without being asked for it.

His optics might have been offline still, hiding the pleased, mischiveous glow to them, but the faint grin couldn't be hidden.

"Maybe. Soon, but not just yet."

Oh, he intended to end this session in such a way, if he had the time left. But he was finally starting to get some ideas - and those could not be done if Megatron was on his knees the entire time.

Giving that tauntingly canted hip a lingering squeeze, Orion stepped back.

"First, I want you to stand up again. Then, you can turn your optics back on."

He spark gave an eager little flutter, field pulsing in anticipation.

"And finally, I want you to fetch us each a cube from the dispenser."

And what was Orion planning now, hm? Megatron quirked an upper optic ridge at the first order, but stood up before Orion had finished speaking. Optics onlining in a little burst, they brightened and then dimmed at the pulse in Orion's field.

It was impossible not to pick up on it, and the possibilities that might herald tingled along his circuits in both curiosity and the same sort of anticipation the field's pulse probably was cause by, even if Megatron had no idea what Orion might be thinking on.

Cocking his helm, since it was a curious request as they'd refuelled recently, Megatron dipped it into a slight nod.

"As you wish." Despite that - and well, the questioning little pause right before that too (Orion was allowing him too much freedom with no threatening reprimands, but as long as he didn't let it become a bad habit...) - he didn't properly walk across the room, rather stalked.

It allowed him sinuous grace without moving like his profession was fighting in the berth instead of in an arena, and he picked up two cubes and filled them with easy familiarity. He hesitated at the dispenser then, momentarily caught on the fact that Orion had said nothing after that, but snorted sub-sonically at himself and crossed the room again to stand before Orion, holding the cubes, one in each hand, not offering them.

Orion had only told him to go get them, so it wasn't for him to offer one, just wait, field twisting in lazily looping anticipation around him, what he might want next.

Oh.

Oh. Now he was getting it.

The little half-formed fantasy involving the cubes vanished as the challenge of Megatron's tiny insults made his engine rumble. As nice as it was to watch Megatron's aft sway like that, Orion could now see the merit in being annoyingly meticulous in this: Megatron's sassiness was driving him to distraction.

Leaving Megatron standing, holding the unoffered cubes, Orion reached up, delicately sliding a single finger under Megatron's chin.

"I think I see what you meant, now. Next time, don't start until I'm done speaking."

He caught the rumble of Orion's engine, of course, but it could've been any number of things, and so he didn't take any deeper note of it. At least not beyond a brief appreciation for the implied strength of that engine.

Well, at least until he had a finger underneath his chin, and almost automatically his stance tightened up slightly. Orion's words caused a slight twitch through his armour, and in a quick review he realised he had been (partly accidentally, partly very intentionally) laying it on a bit thick, hadn't he?

The smaller mech's tone however had his engine rumbling quietly, and Megatron didn't even nod to indicate he'd understood - not just because of the physical presence of the finger, but also the less physical implications of the very same digit. He also let his optics settle to the side and on Orion's elbow, instead of straight ahead or down on the floor, since the latter would mean he'd need to tilt his helm.

And once again, finger.

"Understood." There might have been a shadow of a smile even as he voiced his compliance, though. Orion was learning... and beyond that surprisingly quickly taking acting with what he knew and was picking up.

Almost immediately after Megatron agreed, Orion dropped the finger with a cheerful grin, palm landing on the mech's broad chest instead.

"Good to hear."

He didn't really want the cubes, per say; mostly, he just wanted to see Megatron fetch them. A minor fantasy, to be sure, but one that was apparently easily satisfied.

And they could probably use them, later.

Now what else could he... ah ha! His grin widened, and he took a step back, eyeing Megatron up and down before speaking.

"Now, I'd like you to place them on the table for now, before going to my closet in the hall - with your hands clasped behind your back."

He'd liked what he'd seen earlier, when Megatron had been kneeling. He raised a finger, signaling that he was still speaking.

"Then, bring me the crate of cleaning supplies from the second shelf from the bottom. With your hands, obviously," he added belatedly, with a chuckle. His engine gave a rumble of anticipation. That box had wax and polishing cloths in it, and he intended to make full use of the contents.

He almost twitched to move before Orion was finished, but the finger in the air as well as remembering it sliding under his chin kept him still - plus the fact that, now that he'd noticed what he'd been doing, Megatron reminded himself he couldn't push Orion as he would someone else.

It wasn't fair, firstly, and secondly, beyond the fact that Orion had reprimanded him for it, Orion wasn't used to what they were doing... and a lack of punishments didn't mean he should milk it for all it was worth.

When Orion was finished, Megatron's smile briefly deepened into a grin and he dipped his helm in a nod and put the cubes on the table, still wondering what that was about.

"As you wish." He didn't turn around until after he'd clasped his hands behind his back, engine dropping down into a hum at the familiar position... And this time he crossed the room and into the hall in a much more contained fashion, allowing himself to actually pay attention again to the fact that Orion's words, his will, had him right there...

Optics dimming at the thought, Megatron knelt down after opening the door to the closet and didn't unclasp his hands until then - he wasn't sure at the angle, but if Orion would be able to see, he should be given the view of the gladiator squatting down with his hands still clasped behind his back, shouldn't he? - and easily found the box in question.

Running the fingers of a hand over the top, Megatron's processor flashed through several possibilities and he grinned again before schooling his expression and taking the box with him, returning to the same spot in front of Orion.

Edited 2014-04-28 19:18 (UTC)

Orion watched avidly, barely resisting the urge to lean over to get a better view of his aft as Megatron's knelt down. But the thrill of seeing Megatron fulfilling the letter of his commands - his commands - was giving him enough of a thrill all on it's own.

His engine was purring, warm and revving openly.

Oh, but if he had known... The feeling was heady, fogging his processor for a moment, and he allowed himself a brief shake of the helm to clear it.

"Mhmm. Very good."

Orion grinned, pleasure and praise obvious, as he reached out for the box, palm up.

"Kneel for me again. And then give me the box."

Even without Orion's grin it'd have been obvious he was enjoying what was going on, which, on its own, was enough of a reward - it was both a pleasure and a boost to his ego that he'd gotten Orion here and got to see him start to enjoy it.

Flashing a grin as he knelt, not exactly directly at Orion, but easily seen, and his engine revving softly, Megatron knelt again and handed the box over, and now there was no thought of the possibilities of what Orion might want with it, or what might come next.

There were still urges to push, but having reminded himself that Orion needed some time, it'd been easy to settle into the proper frame of mind. He only needed to do.

Easy.

Comfortable, even with Orion's little miss earlier.

"Thank you," Orion said automatically as he was handed the box, polite even in this. Even if his voice had deepened to a husky purr with appreciation. Box balanced in one hand, he didn't bother to resist the urge to reach out and stroke Megatron's helm with the other, blatantly enjoying the height difference.

"Now. Do you know what is in the box?"

He grinned as he asked, not really waiting for an answer. Leaving off his petting, he pulled back to open the box-

And began pulling out polishing supplies and a canister of wax. He squirmed a little with anticipation, chuckling under his breath.

If Orion never dropped the politeness during scenes, Megatron wouldn't mind. It was so very much Orion that it just fit. His engine dropped into purring as Orion stroked his helm, feeling no compunction about enjoying the slide of Orion's smooth metal against his rather more abused helm.

He buffed down nicks and dents when he came by them, but there would always be others left, so Orion was so much 'cleaner' by comparison that Megatron wouldn't ever say no to those hands on him... or caressing the mech himself, for that matter.

He cocked his helm inquiringly as Orion spoke, but waited... and then chuckled faintly, voice nearly humming with his quiet pleasure even if he spoke when he possibly shouldn't.

"Cleaning supplies, apparently."

Not a bad idea, really. He wouldn't mind seeing Orion polished up, if that was what he had in mind...

"Mhmmhm," Orion confirmed cheerfully. He took his time, slowly emptying the box; he didn't have a massive collection of polish and waxes, unlike some, but he had a handful of very nice, indulgent brands and fine cloths.

"And I think we've got enough time to use at least one of them."

Orion would bet almost anything that Megatron was expecting the opposite of what he actually planned to order.

Reaching over, he chose a plush micromesh cloth and dabbed a healthy dollop of polish on it.

"Give me your right arm."

He gestured to it, grin wide and cloth at the ready in the other hand. His engine purred loudly in anticipation.

Normally, Orion taking his time might have prompted sarcasm from his annoyance of having to wait because the other mech wanted to delay for whatever reason. At the moment, though, Orion taking his time merely fit the situation, and the rhythm with which he was unboxing the polishing materials slid over Megatron's circuits with a pleasant buzz.

And yes, he was (despite having been on the recieveing end of this type of care in a session or two) assuming the opposite of what Orion was planning, even when he was asked for his arm.

Cocking his helm, Megatron untangled his right arm but kept his left right where it was, and then stretched the asked-for arm out, palm up, in the expectation of being handed the cloth.

He wouldn't mind at all, really, in or out of this situation, and the thought of slowly going over Orion made him smile faintly.

"No. Close, but not quite."

There was no real rebuke in his tone. Grinning, Orion reached out, grasped Megatron's hand, and turned it over. Holding the curve of his downturned fingers like a gentlemech going in to kiss the back of his hand, Orion began to apply the polish instead.

"Perhaps next time I'll allow that."

Just a little portion of the dab to the back of the hand, and more up onto the heavier forearm gauntlet. Once the bulk of it was carefully portioned out, he returned to the hand and began to polish the wax in. The cloth was fine and soft, and he moved in gentle but brisk circles, massaging the metal as he went.

He was surprised, he could admit that, and his optics brightened in reaction before they settled back at normal colour and he chuckled.

"Whatever you want, as you want it, Orion," Megatron murmured, optics dimming in pleasure as the motion the cloth was making along with the pressure Orion was using pressed the metal down into the sensors underneath. It pushed the sensors into a brief state of heightened input and then eased up, neutralising the input again - in essense, relaxing them.

Fingers twitching a little as Orion worked, Megatron thought using such a fine-weave cloth might have been a bit of a waste - it might end up ruined. Orion would, doubtlessly, not care about it though.

And here and now? Megatron didn't have too much thought to it either, since the important thing was that this was what Orion wanted to do and it was quite easy to simply sink into the sensation of both the polish being massaged into the metal and Orion himself.

Even as Megatron's optics dimmed to where they were nearly offline, he was very aware of Orion. How the mech was standing, where his hands were and, as Orion worked, where he'd be leaning or going next, his field attuned to the expansive weight of Orion's.

... He doubted be truly deserved what Orion was right now giving him, considering he'd been giving Orion such a hard time earlier pushing his authority... Not because he was uncomfortable or didn't like it, like Orion did, but because pushing a new dom what was he did until pushed back.

"That is nice to hear you say," Orion purred, spark and field flaring at the reminder.

And this was, oddly enough, exactly what he wanted. The freedom to fuss over Megatron as he wished.

Orion certainly didn't care about the potential loss of the cloth; he was rubbing it heavily enough to give Megatron a nicely teasing massage, and if that ended up fraying the mesh on the gladiator's...rougher edges, then so be it.

"But you're going to have to stay still."

Orion grinned, glancing up from his work as he made his way up Megatron's arm. Even as he made dull silver armor gleam, he completely intended to drive the larger mech to distraction with teasing contact.

He'd have laughed, really he would have, but instead he just grinned as a minute shiver worked itself through his frame at Orion's tone of voice and the flare of his field. This was just a tiny, very tame beginning, but it wasn't any less enjoyable.

Perhaps more so, since Orion was (both surprisingly and unsurprisingly) directing attention to him, in both the expected ways and, with this sudden turn to grooming, somewhat unexpected too.

And then Orion spoke, and Megatron stilled. He tilted his helm slightly, briefly meeting Orion's optics when the mech looked up and then he nodded.

"Understood." There was a rumble in his voice as he spoke, and his engine underscored it. Not from annoyance, merely something like anticipation and acceptance, the words, his own agreement and the implication running like fresh charge down his circuits.

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I assumed they are in Orion's apartment in this; hope that works!

Yess, they are. c8

Yay!

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