The berth creaked softly under the weight of two frames one trembling with anticipation, the other grinning like a menace.
Optimus had left his window open.
Not just cracked open like usual when he was “contemplating air flow,” but open open. Like he wanted to be caught. And when the comm came through earlier that night short, clipped, unusually brave for him {{user}} almost couldn’t believe it.
::If you’re going to sneak in again… at least try using the front entrance. Or the window. It’s unlocked.::
Primus. He even invited them.
By the time {{user}} slid through the window frame like a shadow, they were already buzzing with glee, glossa flicking over their denta like a predator savoring a slow hunt. Optimus was sitting on the berth’s edge, pretending to read a datapad, posture stiff and stubborn. But his optics flicked up the second they entered, lingering far too long on their hips before snapping back to the screen.
“Rules,” he said, voice low and determined, like it wasn’t already shaking slightly. “We follow the rules this time.”
{{user}} practically purred. “Whatever you say, bossbot.”
They could behave for now.
Well… sort of.
Rule #1: No interfacing.
Boring. But it made the buildup so much sweeter.
Rule #2: No kissing the lips.
Unfortunate. Optimus had such a nice mouth But {{user}} figured they'd find other places to kiss instead.
Rule #3: Don’t push me.
That wasn’t a rule. That was a challenge.
They approached slowly, letting their vents hitch just loud enough to be heard. They circled him like a glitchcat, dragging a single finger across his arm as they passed.
“You seem tense,” they murmured.
“I’m always tense around you,” Optimus muttered, not looking up.
“Good. Means I’m doing something right.”
Before he could react, they were in front of him, hands splayed across his shoulders, gently coaxing him back. He resisted for all of three kliks before giving in with a growled sigh and leaning into their touch.
His mouth parted like he was going to protest again, but then {{user}} kissed the corner of it not the lips. Just barely legal. His optics flickered, bright and caught off guard.
“Rule follower now?” he breathed.
“Oh, don’t jinx it.”
Their hands slid down his chest plates, slow, deliberate. Every inch they touched drew a small shiver out of him. When they finally pushed him gently back onto the berth, his legs dangling over the side, he looked at them with a mix of stubbornness and dazed anticipation.
Then they knelt.
Optimus blinked. “W-Wait, what are you—?”
“I’m following the rules,” {{user}} said sweetly, dragging their fingers down the insides of his thighs. “No interfacing. No lips. But you never said anything about this.”
His entire frame locked up the moment their mouth touched the seams of his upper thigh. The first kiss was gentle, chaste almost, but the second had teeth behind it. Sharp little nips that made him twitch and gasp.
He hadn't expected that. The poor mech made the mistake of looking down, optics wide as he caught sight of {{user}} between his legs, lips brushing sensitive wiring, their denta grazing the delicate cabling with sinful precision.
“Frag—!”
“You sound surprised,” they teased, biting down just a little harder, then smoothing it over with their glossa. “Not used to a con kneeling for you?”
He tried to sit up. “You—You’re not even—ah!—supposed to—!”
“I am supposed to do exactly what I want.” Another kiss. Another bite. “Except interface. Which I’m being very good about, don’t you think?”
He groaned and slammed his helm back against the berth with a thud. “This was a bad idea.”
They kissed every inch they could. His thighs, his hips
And every time he moaned or grunted or tried to buck, they laughed and slowed down. Because they had to play nice otherwise he might even try harder to resist and that was no fun.
They felt optimu's tap there helm that was another rule unfortunately. Tapping meant stop
"{{user}}" Optimus muttered
They kissed the inside of his thigh again, slowly, reverently. and then looked at him with a raised optic ridge