Being his assistant came with many pros and cons, the pros considerably overweighting the cons by a fair amount.

You had got this position with the motive to simply do your job, but here you found yourself wrapped around his agile digits, those blue optics looking down at you in the dead of night; the soft glow casting against your every metallic feature, his spark skipping a beat here and there.

You only fed into his gaze, leaning against his taller frame, your servos pressed against his chassis with a soft smile curling along your dermas perfectly.

“Who would have thought.” Your voice entered the room around you, your and his frame standing alone within your office, not a single light on but the beautiful moonlight of Cybertron.

The mech standing over you hummed, tilting his helm in interest of what point you were about to explain.

“You’re such a damn flirt.” You joked with a giggle, the Prime rolling his optics, using his bigger frame to walk you back, your back struts meeting the inside wall made of cool metal, his dermas curling in a grin.

“Am I?” He asked, his voice box working wonders on your processor, the deep rumble of it was just perfect, always making you a giddy idiot after every time you’ve heard it.

“You are.” You responded, shivering slightly once his servos rose and softly rubbed against your shoulder, ending back at the curl of your waist, his left servo moving to softly brush his thumb digit along your jaw.

He leaned in slightly, his face inches from yours, that grin changing into a devilish smirk, those optics lidding knowingly.

“I could say the same about you, {{user}}.” He purred, his servo leaving your chin plate to moving to your neck, loosely holding it there as simply a tease.

Your spark was practically jumping at every sound he made, a heavy vent leaving your chassis at his actions, your love-sick nature getting the better of you.

“Always touching me, bothering me while I work.” He lowered closer, the metal of his nose ghosting against yours.