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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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.

Still humming happily as he worked his way down the impressive back struts, Orion didn't think on the motion immediately; it wasn't yet an ingrained thought process, to think of motion as wrong, but it still pinged him as off.

Then Orion froze, vents hissing.

"Megatron."

He pulled away from his work on Megatron's back, stiff and glaring at the spot where the gladiator's hands should have been.

"I don't recall telling you to move."

Ah.

Caught.

And it probably shouldn't, but Orion's tone as well as the sudden space between them thrilled down his struts and his fans kicked on a notch higher. He could feel the heat of Orion's glare against his back, and it was as delightful - if far sharper - as his approval and pleasure had been.

Pushed a bit far, obviously.

"I apologise, Orion." In this situation, of course, an apology wasn't enough, and if Orion ever forbade him to speak... well, that wasn't now. "I forgot myself." He certainly didn't move his hands back against his back again, however. That would be just as bad as what he'd just done, so instead he just flexed his hands on his thighs and waited.

Orion snorted, both pleased and unimpressed at once. The apology pinged at his systems pleasantly; hearing Megatron apologizing for such a simple thing should have felt wrong, like it had when he had been in the same situation - but instead, it felt correct.

And at the same time, it really didn't feel like an apology was enough.

"Obviously."

Given his own inexperience, Orion was at a loss for a long moment, unsure of how to address the blatant disobedience.

He vented hotly against Megatron's neck, giving the previously-polished back a token swat with the cloth.

"Just for that, you can turn your optics off again. And put your hands back where they belong."

While Orion was quiet, Megatron simply stayed still and quiet himself. The crawling potential of whatever Orion would decide scratching down his circuits and keeping his fans on a higher cycle.

His field twitched noticeably when Orion swatted him, but otherwise he remained still... and then his fingers twitched just slightly where they rested on his thighs.

"Yes, Orion." He wasn't going to shift around or squirm. He wasn't that undisciplined. Instead Megatron offlined his optics after first dimming them almost until they were offline. Then, precisely and carefully, but not slowly, he lifted his hands off his thighs and snaked his arms back behind him, grabbing each opposite wrist.

There was no way to hide his engine revving briefly, and despite the slowly creeping discomfort over being unable to see, charge ran gleefully down his circuits.

"...Better." Orion had to pause yet again, his own systems redlining briefly at the surge of satisfaction and arousal that coursed through him.

Right. Yes. Very good. He purred, loud and openly.

Orion reached down, touching each wrist and the fingers curled around them, in a moment of smug awe, and as a reminder to them both.

"Keep those there until I tell you to move them."

His armor creaked briefly as he peered around Megatron's side, confirming that his optics were offline. Satisfied by the lack of red glow, he folded the cloth over to a less-frayed side, and resumed his path down Megatron's back with a fresh dollop of wax.

He only had a limited amount of time, after all.

"So. Was that some sort of test?" He questioned after a few moments of deep polishing, tone much less severe than before.

The approval he could pick up from Orion - engine, field and touch all - bolstered the charge in his systems and set his engine purring, even if it all was because he'd broken the rules. His fingers twitched at the touch against his wrists, and he tightened his grip a little in response.

"Yes, Orion." Not acknowledging that he'd heard was rather unthinkable right now.

The darkness he was left in taunted him to flare his field out and get a better idea of his surroundings even if he knew exactly what Orion's apartment looked like and where Orion himself was. But he didn't, and the crawling wariness slithered under the charge, setting it alight with tension.

It was uncomfortable and delightful both.

"Hmm. Not a planned one, no. I am not quite that unforgiving with a new dom, or with you, Orion. But attempting to push the rules, especially with a new dom I don't know how they will react... yes. I apologise for doing it so soon however."

Orion would probably be able to tell, if he thought about it, that he'd been doing it almost since they started their little scene.

Orion snorted in acknowledgement, too busy purring and polishing to take too much offence.

"So is it a game - or a challenge, to push?" He asked, with the air of proper curiosity rather than challenge of his own. He was still new to it, and this was a learning exercise of their own, after all.

He had to keep from shifting in his kneel to ease the building tension from his lack of sight, but this, like the taunting need to flare his field out was all part of the punishment of course.

If a punishment didn't affect him, it'd be quite useless, after all.

"Challenge, more like," Megatron said after a moment, the tensile cables in his thighs tighening and he had to consciously relax them so he wouldn't shift - either closing the spread thighs or widen them, "not because I don't want to be here, because if that was the case we wouldn't be doing this at all. More a test of your resolve."

Dropping his voice into a purr to accompany his engine, Megatron let go of some tension, concentrating on the other sensations which were far more pleasant than his discomfort over the lack of visual input.

Bracing a hand on Megatron's hip - fingers curling in a possessive grip only half-unconsciously - Orion polished his way down the thick overlapping panels making up Megatron's lower spine.

"My resolve, hmm?"

Though amused, there was a distinct note of challenge in the questioning sound.

"To make sure I simply don't let you get away with it and end up turning the whole thing around on it's head?"

He pressed and massaged against the tense underlying struts and cables as he went, ending with a flourish just above Megatron's aft.

Engine thrumming underneath his armour, Megatron carefully didn't smile. Neither at the way Orion curled his hand around his hip, nor at the challenge in his question.

It was pretty delightful how quickly these things were being stirred out of the smaller mech with just the opportunity for them to do so, and it wasn't just (in a way not at all) thanks to Orion's massage that Megatron found himself in a humming heat and moving at the slightest indication from Orion despite just earlier having pushed back.

"Basically, yes." Despite having resolved not to smile, Megatron heard the heat in his own tone, and, beyond that, managed to only just stay properly still and not arch into the teasing slide of Orion's polishing as it finished above his aft.

His optics still being offline and the darkness that created, as well as Orion's earlier displeasure and approval both reminded him now to stay still.

And that, as much as the polish, if not even more so, dropped his engine into a deep idling purr along with the charge wrapping around his circuits.

Edited 2014-05-13 08:51 (UTC)

Leaving Megatron's back, nicely polished up as it was, Orion slowly circled around to face the currently blinded mech instead; fingertips dragging across polished metal as he went.

"Hmm. I see. Makes sense, I suppose."

The feel of unpolished chest plates marked the transition, and Orion smiled. Re-wetting the cloth, the librarian leaned close and began to polish right over Megatron's spark. Orion purred.

"I'll have to keep on my guard, then."

Field flexing in a gentle ripple around his as Orion walked around him to end up front - well, he was pretty sure that's what Orion did, anyway - Megatron kept still otherwise.

Well, tried to, because he had to admit to the slight twitch when the cloth touched the metal right above his spark chamber. It was kind of silly, the way the charge in his circuits flared just from that and the pleased, warm swell that seemed to bubble up from within his spark.

"For a while... ah, at least, yes. I still... hn, should've waited, given your inexperience," Megatron said, ignoring the slight, almost breathy wavering in his vocaliser. It steadied out quickly enough, and for once he was pleased with his optics being offline - at least they couldn't betray the nearly blush-bright glow of them.

His field, at least, he had under control, even if it was nearly vibrating against his armour... and well, given how close Orion was and the wide cast of his field, he'd probably pick up on that, but it was, at least, not as telling as his optics would have been.

Though Megatron couldn't see it, Orion nodded in agreement.

"That would have been preferable - or at least a warning would have been nice. But I think I'll survive."

He didn't' mind too much, after all. Not enough to further reprimand the mech. Instead, he focused on polishing his way across Megatron's broad chest, engine rumbling blatantly as he paid loving attention to each plate and ridge. He pulsed his field, pressing it against that enticing, tense vibration coming from the larger mech's.

It was about that time...

"Hmm. Spread your legs further for me, Megatron."

He leaned in, foot and heel going between Megatron's knees to encourage them further apart as he liked.

"You're doing remarkably well really, Orion." What he wanted to do, both to be able to see again and to reinforce his praise, was to online his optics again. But, of course he didn't and the thought wasn't really even seriously considered before it disappeared.

How could it not, under the purring from Orion's engine and the flexing pulse of his field? That was only part of it of course, and Orion speaking again scattered the brief consideration into tense, charged expectation.

"Yes, Orion." The reason he added Orion's name there, voice dropping down in pitch, had nothing to do with reassurance or praise and all to do with acknowledging the given order.

Even before Orion slid his foot in, Megatron had tensed his cables and was shifting his legs wider, field briefly flexing and then stilling in its charged vibration again, neatly matched with the charge in his wiring.

The vulnerability was like a flame and a far more pleasant such than his inability to see was, but even that couldn't dampen the tingling flare caused by Orion's order... and obeying it.

"That's...reassuring to hear."

Orin's rumbling purr only deepened at the praise, rattling his frame, and the following obedience had his field flaring in brilliant triumph.

"Very good," he rumbled, voice dropping deeper with his own sudden surge of want. Foot still placed between Megatron's knees, he leaned in enough to press his armor flush with Megatron's interface paneling, leaving it there as he pointedly worked on finishing up the gladitor's chest plating.

Pausing long enough to press a single kiss to now-shiny chest plates, Orion gently slid the cloth up to the most vulnerable of places: the front of Megatron's throat.

If he hadn't been used to this, the ease and even pleasure of obeying - as well as the warming glow of Orion's appreciation of the same - would have been alarming. It wasn't, though, and instead of panic all that was present was a a gentle burning lassitude... and charge

Quite a bit of it, which hardly lessened with Orion's leg up against his paneling, and even less so when the cloth slid against his throat. For a brief moment Megatron swallowed, tensing the cables and thin metal there to firm up against the pressure - and then he relaxed again, engine dropping into a deep, almost roaring purr.

Orion could touch whatever he liked.

He only had to let him.

So he did, remaining still and relaxed, waiting for Orion to push his chin up if he would and concentrated on keeping his field reined in... and make sure he didn't shift his hips more than minutely up against Orion's leg to increase the pressure.

He slowed at the sensation of Megatron swallowing, unsure if he was pushing too hard on a boundary line. The relief of Megatron's relaxation after the tension made the triumph all the sweeter. Stance and field only strengthening with pride, Orion carefully worked the cloth along Megatron's throat, polishing delicate cables until they shone.

Seeing it was like a mark; a mark he had freely made. 'I'm allowed to touch this'. Orion couldn't stop purring, the sound joining with Megatron's until the whole room rumbled.

"You can turn your optics back on - fifty percent illumination only." Orion allowed after a moment. Even after his success with that tension, he didn't want to push it - especially with what he was planning on doing next. His foot shifted, shin plates boldly pressing up against Megatron's notably heated panel and scraping. His grin went wide.

"Release your hands and lean back, Megatron. I find myself wanting to have my way with you."

Their mingled purring wrapped around him in the same way his field, Orion's field, was, and the reason for that pleasure was like (paradoxically enough) soothing lightning.

The allowance to get his sight back made the bright charge from Orion's hand on his throat all the more sweeter and far less complicated to relax into. He did, though, wait until Orion was finished speaking before his optics lit up slowly before stabilising at the given point.

It left the outer edges of his vision faintly soft-edged, but that didn't matter. He had sight back again, and that let him relax a faint shade further, subtly arching up against Orion's hand... and the leg against---

His field twitched and eddied as Orion scraped against the panel, charge from pure arousal and tactile stimulation pleasure dancing across his sensory nodes and flushing his wiring.

He caught the flash of Orion's grin from the upper edge of his vision, tightening his fingers around his wrists in response to the electrified flush from that grin... and then he had to bite off a chuckle when Orion spoke. He grinned, though, languid and pleased.

"As you wish, Orion." There was no denying the pleased, heated rumble of his voice, and he unwound his arms and leaned back, ending up resting on his elbows, the glow from his optics faint, but warm... legs still bent by the knees, spread.

Orion nodded in approval when Megatron turned his optics back on after he spoke - much more satisfying than before.

"Good."

Then he was following Megatron down, hand on his hip and kneeling between those obediently still-spread thighs.

Smirking, he teasingly dropped the polishing cloth down from the gladiator's neck to his waist and pelvis. Waxing around Megatron's hip joints, he took his time, polishing low around his waist and avoiding the join between his thighs. As excited as he was, he was delaying purposefully: Orion was nervous as well.

He honestly hadn't expected to get to this portion of events while still in their roles. But then again, he hadn't expected to enjoy his role has viscerally as he had.

But his excitement had not fled, despite it. Bracing himself, and venting pent-up heat in one long gust, Orion slid his hand between Megatron's splayed legs, mesh immediately being warmed by trapped heat.

"Open for me."

Teasing and slow it may have been, but Megatron could honestly say he wouldn't have wanted it any other way - because this was the way Orion chose to do it, and here and now, like this, he had the patience for it.

That didn't meant the slide of the polishing cloth along his hip joints and up around his waist didn't build a tight, wound-up tension for that every slide would go elsehwere, because it most certainly did.

The effort of restraint, of keeping himself still under that firm-but-gentle hand was a delicious slow burn of tension that expended as much charge as it created. Soon his engine was rumbling loudly and his cooling fans hand, finally, turned on as well.

Self-control and the simple fact of that it wasn't his place to demand Orion to move faster, to move down, kept Megatron still where he half reclined on the floor - it was also what kept him still beyond a slight twitch of his legs, a minute flexing to push against the cloth and hand suddenly resting against his panel when Orion dropped down.

"Hn--- Yes. Orion." Field feeling like a live thing around him and against Orion's heavily spread one, Megatron narrowed his optics as he unlocked the panel and let it slide aside - the air on exposed valve and spike housing brought another faint, twitching shudder along his thighs.

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