Fic: The Duel

[camfield]

Universe: G1
Rating: NC17
Characters: Hidden for surprises!  Highlight if you reaaaally have to know.  Sideswipe/Mirage
Warnings: Highlight to ruin the surprise! Nothing bad though.  Public fellatio



First off, I would like to apologize for this.  :D

I have no excuse.  This was sitting in my 'bad porn' folder and Dellessa suggested I pull it out and share it.

I... yeah.  The end.

“On your mark!  Get set!  GO!”

Two bodies came shuffling forward, hands clasped together behind their backs, pelvic plates leading them into battle. 

A swing and a miss had the crowd heckling and yelling.

“If you can’t hit that there aint no WAY you’re coming home with me tonight!”

Neither competitor paid them any mind, fans whirring as they focused on getting close enough to hit the other bot without being hit themselves.

“Come on, bring it on baby!  You are soooo not going to win today.”

There was a loud clang of metal and the crowd “OOOOooooohhhhh”’d in sympathy as much as entertainment.  The two bodies stood firm, the barely there shaking the only thing that betrayed their pain, neither willing to move after that hit.

They moved back, then forward again, striking at each other with exaggerated swings of their hips.  The audience cheering when one got a hit in and teasing when they missed.

A sudden leap and the first fighter knocked the second off balance from the hit, the resulting crash earning them cheers from the onlookers.  In a flash the game changed, the energy in the room soaring as the downed bot pushed himself to hands and knees.

“And this is why I’m the bot!”

The bot on the floor gave him a dirty look, but rose to his knees and held out his hands in a gesture of submission.  He had lost fairly.

With a grin the winner moved forward, swaggering toward the loser.  He stopped just in front of the other, presenting himself to the audience’s delight and his opponent’s distasteful expression.

“You know the rules here playbot, open up and suck it.”

A growl, but the other bot shuffled forward and delicately grasped black hips, the scowl on his face deepening as a hand came down to rest on his helm. He leaned in and opened his mouth, just taking in the head of the other’s exposed spike.  A groan told him that his victor was more than excited, and it stirred his Energon more and more as he pulled noises from the other.

One black hand circled the base and stroked as he sucked, glossa working the sensor cluster just behind the ridge of the head.  The spike tightened, drawing itself up even as it was worked over, and the hand on his helm pressed forward, a wordless command.

He obeyed, relaxing his fuel intake and bobbing his helm until his nasal sensor touched heated metal.  Swallowing, the tubing of his intake working the spike in an undulating motion, he heard the crowd rooting him on, now heckling the victor for his apparent poor performance.  The hands tried to pull him off, to take back control, but he hummed and felt the other’s overload start from the trembling of his thighs.

A choked off noise, and hot transfluid spurted down his intake, much more quickly than could really be attributed to his skill alone, but that was the point of this, to burn off steam AND entice others to your berth.

Which, he thought smugly, was the real contest, one that he’d clearly won this round of. 

He swallowed one more time for posterity’s sake, then drug his mouth slowly over the still sensitized spike, giving no quarter even as the body it was attached to jerked and cursed.  A wet ‘pop’, and the limp spike was hastily put away as he stood and offered his hand.

A sidelong glance, then a grin, and they shook over a competition well played out.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to make this a repeat performance in my room.” 

It was thrown out casually; black helm cocked a confident angle.

The other considered, optics roving over the crowd clamoring for their attention.

“Only if by repeat performance you mean your mouth on my spike.”

Half shuttered optics gave him a smoldering look.

“I think that can be arranged.”

He bowed slightly, offering a red and white arm, ignoring the catcalls and engine revs around them.  Mirage tucked his own still exposed spike carefully back into its casing before resting his arm on top of the other.

“My pleasure Sideswipe.”