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 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.

Orion purred as he basked in Megatron's responsiveness. He noticed that shiver, and his own want surged in turn, engine revving into a deep rumble. He'd never heard his own engine go so deep before...

This was too good. Was he supposed to enjoy it this much?

Orion quickly decided it didn't matter. They were both enjoying it. So he made his way up Megatron's arm, gently manhandling the heavily-armored limb; Orion rotated it to get at the underside of Megatron's forearm, raising it up and bending it at the elbow to get at the hidden portions of the joint.

Technically, he could have skipped the joint areas, as they didn't take easily to polishing, but Orion specifically wanted to pass over them with the cloth. They were too sensitive to avoid. He watched for any sort of reaction, before speaking again.

"Good. But I would like you to spread your thighs, as you were earlier."

It seemed Orion was going to be thorough, and while the heavy slide of the cloth over the joint and down into its angles and deeper workings made the connections jump and tactile sensors go mad, Megatron remained still.

The charge skittering down his circuits and pooling lightly in the cluster around his spark chamber, plus the sensory input might otherwise have had him pushing back, nearly vibrating.

Now, however, he didn't move. His field moved in a subtle thrumming twitch, pushing against his metal, and that was more than enough... then his optics twitched slightly wider at Orion's comment and a corner of his lips angled upwards.

"... As you wish, Orion," Megatron murmured, voice thick with soft pleasure, both due to the polishing massage and the whole... situation. So he did as bid, changing his weight to counteract sliding his knees wider, opening up for not just his own field to push against the hip joints, but Orion's heavy, heady EM field as well.

Orion's engine only purred it's approval louder, both at the sight and at the gladiator's ready obedience. He actually had to pause in his work briefly, fighting back the urge to further order Megatron onto his back, legs spread-

Mmhm. Later. Definitely later.

"Very good."

Lowering Megatron's arm back down, Orion polished over the upper arm and made his way to the pauldron. Data-clerk small hands slipping easily under the bulky metal, Orion buffed away at rarely-touched metal and half-hidden joint mechanics.

"And just to make it clear," Orion started, leaning in as he worked to rumble nearly against Megatron's back- "While I want you to try and be still, that doesn't mean you have to be quiet."

The suggested open vulnerability (whether you did it from confidence and taunting, or not) always stirred a thrill through him, and this was no exception. That along with Orion's hands being slender enough, both because of occupation and their relative sizes, to get at places he normally couldn't...

Well, had he been less disciplined, less used to sinking into the slightly fuzzy and yet sharply defined space that left him both relaxed into his own frame and attuned to every single move Orion made, he would have squirmed.

Instead there was just a minute tightening, energy coalescing to bloom with warm fire from his own stillness, Orion's closeness, and the slide of the cloth. Then he ended up laughing when Orion spoke, a soft, deep rumble.

"You know me Orion... I'm not much for making noise, but you're going to have to push harder if you want to try and have me gasping from your hands to avoid squirming from them." His optics briefly flared in a glittering sparkle before they dimmed again, his engine momentarily revving along with his words.

"I know, but I do so like it when you do end up making noise."

He chuckled at the words, field flaring a little at the implied challenge...

He leaned in, stooped down enough to press his chest against Megatron's back; engine purring fit to rattle them both, he curled cloth-wrapped fingers around the hidden shoulder joint.

And carefully pinched.

"But I will certainly endeavor to try."

Humming quietly, both in non-committal reply - though he probably should've responded more politely to his dom - and when Orion leaned in and down and the vibrations rattled between them, Megatron didn't think anything further of that. Orion might just need to reach---

He didn't actually twitch at the pinch. Rather, the motion stayed trapped underneath his armour, vibrating along tensile cables and pistons while a surprised... noise slipped out of him.

It wasn't quite a moan, but it definitely had the underpinnings of it as Orion somehow managed to put the right amount of strength into the pinch, and place it at the most inconvenient spot, that the gentle charge already lazily spinning about and his primed sensory net interpreted it close to pleasure.

"... It appears so, yes." Somehow, he managed a more neutral tone, though faint threads of arousal still lingered.

Almost immediately, Orion returned to his polishing, buffing the affected spot in almost-apology.

Almost. Megatron was so full of subtle sass it was impossible not to feel at least a little vindicated. And his systems still revved at Megatron's little sound.

"Indeed. I still have a while yet to give it an attempt."

Carefully working his hands free, Orion moved on, dabbing more wax onto a somewhat ragged polishing cloth to make his way across broad shoulders and over the curve and wires of Megatron's neck.

Orion could've done far "worse" and he'd still have had occasion to feel vindicated and a "right" to doing it.

"You do, at that," Megatron said, nearly humming, and had he asked about proper address, or Orion brought it up, he'd have been talking to Orion a shade more respectfully than he had been so far, but even so he was loose-jointed putty in (or perhaps rather under) Orion's hands and would do... pretty much anything he was told to.

Not just because Orion was expending effort and patience on doing this for him, but also because Orion was Orion and with this it was quite clear Orion would be looking after him... right now it was just more literal than it might be later.

The brush of the cloth along his neck brought the faintest of trembles - not in a bad way however. There was no part of him he wouldn't trust Orion with, especially right now, but his neck and throat was a vulnerable area and one that usually sent charge skittering right into his center.

He stilled even as his vocaliser reset, leaving a faint but audible little click.

Orion grinned at Megatron's back; hand on his frame, polishing tight, affectionate circles into the metal, he could feel what his optics couldn't see.

He could feel that hidden tension under the surface, and he was excited for it.

One of the few, inoffensive 'research' vids he had watched had involved something like this. The Dom tying up her sub and making him come undone completely. He'd honestly enjoyed that part - up until the tiny femme had broken out the energon whip to punish the mech for his 'mistake'.

His arousal had be quite crushed.

But he was aiming for the first bit if the scenario. Was he supposed to punish Megatron if he broke an order doing what Orion wanted him to do in the end? The 'rules' seemed a little fuzzy on that part.

He chuckled as he ran soft fabric over more neck cabling, breaking his pattern only to press a kiss to the back of Megatron's helm.

"Better."

He'd have tilted his helm forward if he could have, but he'd been told to be still, so he would be. The tension and slowly building charge collected along circuitry, priming sensors until his sensory net was on literal edge for every single shift Orion made behind him and the lightest of brush of the cloth.

It'd been too long since he'd been doing something like this, and he was sooner on edge than he usually would be but even with Orion focusing on his neck he was hardly done already.

"... As you... say, Orion," his vocaliser wasn't glitching, not exactly, but there was airy static under the words and his optics dimmed. Megatron tightened his stance just slightly at the brush of Orion's lips against his helm, the slight friction like a shooting star across his sensory net.

Despite the tension, Megatron was more relaxed than he'd been in a good while already, regardless of Orion's inexperience - he was doing quite well, and Megatron flexed his hands where they grasped the opposite wrist, and then tightened his grip again.

His purring was definitely smug, now.

Orion knew it was silly to be so pleased so soon, but he was too glad about having such an obvious impact on Megatron so quickly. Sensing the tension through his palm was one thing; feeling the rising heat of Megatron's internal systems through the metal, the low hum of building charge?

Oh yes. Perhaps he could manage this, after all.

Making a humming sound of agreement, Orion made to move Megatron further, a fingertip pushing gently at the edge of his helm or lifting his opposite, unpolished arm. He lingered on the back of Megatron's neck only for a few minutes; as much as he wanted to see how much he could make the larger mech shudder touching his cabling alone, he had a deadline and a whole lot of frame to polish.

Next time, perhaps. For now, he moved down the mech's back, pressing more firmly as he rubbed wax into tense spinal struts.

Orion seemed to be managing very well indeed, and it was only partly because he had very clever hands. He might have been a bit disappointed when Orion left his neck to trail down his back but it didn't last long.

The charge and heat wasn't after all, lost, it just slid down to swamp his circuits and leave every slide of Orion's hands with a fizzling edge along his sensory net.

Shifting his hands to rest them on his knees to let them be out of the way - even if he should probably have waited to hear where Orion might want them - his engine dropped down into a purr at the heavy hand sliding down the armour of his back.

Tensile cables relaxed under the pressure and armour subtly shifted as it was massaged along with the polishing, and had he had no discipline, his stance would definitely have sagged under the cloth.

It didn't, however, just got slightly rearranged as the lack of pinched tension allowed Megatron better posture, tightening it up even as he relaxed... which might be a strange situation especially as his burgeoning arousal wasn't lessening, but it was the truth.

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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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Hey look I got icons again!

:D

Re: :D

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