Title: Fortuitous

Author: Bubblegum Thief

Rating: M!

'Verse: G1

Pairings: Hound/Mirage (pre-established couple)

Warnings: Sticky slash, PWP, Mecha-erotica, Obvious M-rating here, kids!

Word count: 4,227

Summary: Mirage and Hound shared a night of unexpected revelations before they got together.

Despite all the speculations and rumours of romantic, old-fashioned, and drawn-out courtship it was a mere fortuitous clash (literally) between spy and scout that brought the two together; incessantly.

Returning from a successful mission with the spec. ops.-team, gears tickling after minutes, hours, days of being on edge while rushing through desserts and enemy territories, every sensor on high-alert, Mirage had shakily cleaned himself after a short briefing with the chief staff, his frame visibly quivering under the vicious spray of disinfectant liquids.

'Dispose of all tha' extra energy' Jazz had told them with a naughty smile and a wink. 'We've earned it!' And Mirage had taken of just like that, a plan already forming in his head. He hadn't indulged himself the pleasures of decadent companionship in what seemed like an eternity; his systems and components were beginning to yearn.

His thoughts full of visions of supple fingers dancing over his body, the quiet hum of a safe, friendly-faced lab-worker's engine humming in his mind, he didn't notice the mech marching in his direction. Both preoccupied they managed to bump heads first into each other, the younger's energon spilling all over the place; all over Mirage, too.

"Primus, I'm so sorry," the scout had mumbled, hands immediately pulling a cloth out of his subspace supply, offering it to the dripping noble. Mirage accepted it, "I didn't look where I was going, and I didn't expect any others to be up at this hour-"

"It's was equally my own fault, Hound," Mirage reasoned, holding a hand up calmly, efficiently silencing the Jeep. "No harm is done."

"Still, I apologize," Hound smiled, clearly embarrassed. The Ligier found that when the tall, broad scout smiled like that he was genuinely handsome. How peculiar. "I know how you, Bumblebee and Jazz's just returned from a mission-"

"You knew?" Mirage asked surprised, all thoughts of scientists disappearing like unsupervised energon-treats in the common-room.

"Yeah, of course! I think you guys are awesome," he chuckled awkwardly, shifting his 'peds, "I'm part of the little, exclusive fan club, ya know? We keep an optic zoomed in on you."

"Oh," the Tower's mech felt his systems heat as his timid smile widened with the praise, his processors suggesting putting a move on the scout right there in the hallway. He admitted to himself that he should probably resist. "I'm very honoured, Hound, to have a kind mech like you in my 'fan club'."

"Well, right now I feel like a petro-rat, to be honest," the mech shook his head as he gestured at Mirage's chassis where the noble-raised mech was cleaning himself off with elegant sweeps of the borrowed cloth, "As I started telling you before I knew that you've just returned from some recon-mission, doubtlessly just stepping out of the showers, and then here I come . . ."

The Ligier finished his cleaning and slowly spread his arms out, letting the other see the outcome, "See? None left. And I must thank you for lending me this," he offered the smeared cloth back, "I believe that we agreed just a moment ago that we were equally at fault for this, so now you must let me repay you. That must mean I owe you a brand new cube, isn't that correct?"

"What? Oh, no, you don't have to do that," the larger grinned, "I insist, it's no big deal."

Mirage wished then that they were on some higher level of understanding, that he'd actually spoken to this mech before beyond the normal courtesy-talk.

"Hound, please," he said, gesturing towards the end of the hallway where his private quarters lay, "Come with me."

Thankfully it hadn't taken a lot more convincing to make Hound stay with him, even less to accept a fresh cube. The poor mech had been too absorbed in some outdoor project with a friend, Trailbreaker, that he'd skipped his lunch-ration. Mirage didn't understand half of what the scout was talking about, plants, soil, some photosynthesis-related experiment that had his head spinning with forms and scientific speculations. Nonetheless he enjoyed the other's company and listening with great concentration.

However, it was impossible to ignore his highly charged systems forever, and during Hound's story of some prank the twins had played on the SiC (doubtlessly to express their insanely repressed feelings for him, as Hound speculated) Mirage had to stand up for a moment, had to move around.

"You okay there?" when Mirage simply nodded, quickly taking their empty cubes to a nearby table, Hound carried on, though less eagerly as before. The Ligier slowly rolled his shoulders, glancing over at the large mech on his couch, just sitting there and talking. It was nice, yes, but he needed something processor-stirring tonight.

As he sauntered back, a small smile playing on his lips, the scout trailed off completely. "Geez, I'm sorry. You must be exhausted, and here I sit talking your audios off about silly gossip," he chuckled pleasantly. Mirage liked the sound, loved the way the mech's chassis looked like it was vibrating when he made it.

"I should get going-"

"You should stay," Mirage smiled, putting his hands gently on the other's shoulders. He brushed his field sweetly, teasingly against the Jeep's, felt it shiver in response. Hound himself looked like he'd just been hit on the head with a twig the size of Grimlock's tail.

"Whu-?"

"I said you're welcome to stay the night," the Tower's mech repeated, gliding fluently into the stunned mech's lap, letting one of his hands dance across the larger's chest-piece while his field played against the somewhat amenable field of the mech he was seducing, feeling it swiftly change back and forth between pressing towards and pulling away from his offering. "Share my berth, share our bodies. Maybe share some more stories, if we find time for that at all?"

Hound still wasn't reacting. And he didn't until one of Mirage's servos reached up to cup his jaw, leaning in-

"Wha-, oh, nonono, Mirage!" Hound was flailing, a disbelieving expression exploding onto his face. Hands grabbed onto the noble's thighs and began pushing him away. "Bad idea, bad!"

"Why?" he demanded, stubbornly remaining in his position while a little nonplussed by the strong reaction. He was raised with Tower's manners and would elegantly accept a refusal when given. But he hadn't ever had to. So why now? He had to know.

"I'm sorry, I am! But we hardly know each other," the scout babbled, probably not realizing how much raw need his field had begun oozing, tickling against the Tower's mech's own. Mirage continued to tickle a headlight with one hand, receiving no objections. "I'm really honoured that you'd consider sharing with me in that sense, me of all the guys, but I couldn't. How could I take advantage of this situation, of you, whom- . . . I really just couldn't!"

"Am I not your type?" Mirage offered the mech under him a very simple excuse for getting out of the situation, wondering why he was so persistent to understand the other, so insistent of them not running away from each other in that moment.

"Not my-," the scout gaped up at the gleaming, exotic beauty, taking in golden optics and a deliciously well-sculpted face with full, inviting lips and a welcoming expression, "I'm still trying to figure out whether I'm dreaming or not in this very moment! I've never shared a berth with anyone who has looked like you, talked like you, or radiated as much sexuality as you do; You're the hottest thing I ever saw!"

Mirage smiled down softly, flattered by the silly compliments and the wanton, but still hesitant hands on his thighs. His plating was warm to the touch.

"You're awake, Hound. And you're very welcome to touch."

A small pause, the offering simply to grand to comprehend at first. Then a large, timid hand started tracing the seam between hip and leg, bright, blue optics locked with the noble's, as if expecting a rejection. Mirage hummed encouraging instead, a finger still caressing the jeep's headlights.

". . . If you're sure," Hound ground out, looking like he was shaking with restraint at the moment. The noble felt the tremors of excitement rattling the green frame under him, sending shivers up his own spinal cord.

"Please, go ahead. Touch."

And apparently the green Autobot could restrain himself no longer, servos flying op to grasp the lithe, blue body above in desperate eager.

"Primus, you're gorgeous," Hound groaned, a childish greed translating through his wandering fingertips, reminding the Tower's mech of the other's youth. Mirage was very young considering some of the Ark-residents, but probably still twice the bulky, Earth-loving mech beneath him's age. "I know you'll ruin all other 'bots for me, but I can't resist! You're so very, very gorgeous . . ."

To think he had considered seeking out the scientists for a night's companion. This eager mech was doubtlessly going to be a frag to remember, if not for his rougher style (Mirage was much more familiar with the gallant touches and whispered requests of the resident scientists) then definitely for his blunt, yet sweet words.

"I'm yours tonight," he purred back, optics flickering offline as his warm panel glided against a broad hip, grinding up towards him, "Ah, yes . . ."

"Yes?" the scout was pawing at him, eliciting small, shameless moans as he started grinding them together. His engine growled in delight. The couch was strong enough to hold their combined weight, but Mirage wasn't very surprised when the bigger of the two decided to get up (bringing the Tower's mech with him, bridal style) and tottered down to the berth in the back of the room.

"Oh, you shouldn't had," Mirage teased as he was placed on the soft, foamed surface of the beddings a little less gracefully than the scout had no-doubts-about-it planned, his frame bouncing with the impact. Hound grinned, a sappy and adorable gesture before leaning down over the spy, optics glowing with want.

"No?"

"Oh, no," the spy purred, his vocals dropping an octave seductively, "You've made me drop my flair. Bad, bad 'bot."

"Lemme make it up to you, then," Hound couldn't contain his snicker, clearly not used to dirty-talk. His warm hands and glossa made up for that fact, though, as they travelled down Mirage's narrow waist and hips, leaving a moist trace of worship behind. The scout admired the way his soon-to-be lover's white and blue plating glistening in the dimmed lights of the quiet quarters.

The Ligier arched his body into the toxic ministrations, his processors fogging over as a warm pressure formed in his rapidly pulsing core.

"Please," he managed, gasping softly as two strong arms snaked themselves around his waist and brought their perfervidly heating bodies together, the bright faceplates of his partner startling clear-seeming in his fever-hazed state of mind, "Please, Hound . . ."

"I can't believe I'm here right now," the Jeep moaned openly, not able to conceal his arousal from his voice. His grill steamed from the spy's pleads and expert caresses, covering their headlights in droplets of condense. "Any mech would kill to be in my shoes-," Mirage never did catch onto that Earthling-jargon, but didn't feel the need to ask then, "- yet you invited me over, invited me to touch. No matter how far you will or won't let me go now, here, you've already proceeded to ruin all others for me-"

Mirage kissed him then, mostly to stop his babbling, and beamed inwardly at the obvious thrum of his to-be lover's spark swelling in need. He disengaged the kiss almost as soon as it started and wrapped his legs around the broader mech's abdominal. He opened his panel and felt the first, longing trickle of lubricant drip from his insides down his plating.

"Please," he repeated, this time in a much more pleading tone. Hound shuddered above him.

"Primus," came the hoarse response.

A part of Mirage wanted to groan with impatience as a finger tentatively circled his port, as if still fearing rejection, but he restrained himself and lay back, displaying his beauty and submission for the aggressor to see. He busied his own fingers with clawing at the foamy mattress, hoping to get Hound so titillated that they could skip any more foreplay. But the scout seemed determined to put proper preparation first even if his engines were whined and protesting at this point, which they were if the nearly pained expression of the other was anything to go by.

Not until Mirage revved his superior motor, hard, against Hound's grill did the mech utter a sound closely resembling a sob and a 'click' was heard as his panel released, a proud, fully charged spike extending from it's casing. The Jeep continued to pant heavily and Mirage took the opportunity to reach down and take him in his powerful grasp.

The Ligier moaned to himself as he subconsciously rode the finger currently curling itself inside him, while he felt up the thick, slightly barbed member, the spike twitching in his hand with excitement, its heat nearly scorching.

"I won't last," a small voice admittedly reluctantly in his audio, starting Mirage out of his trance, "Sorry, can't. You're so-" he interrupted himself with a choked off whimper as more tremors shook through him, the finger working inside Mirage jerked spasmodically, brushing against several sensitive and by then fully online nodes. "Please-"

With a barely audibly sigh of resignation Mirage jerked furiously at the leaking member and revved his engine again, this time the combination of both actions spurred the younger scout tumbling into a senses-blinding, sparks-sent-flying overload with a howl of completion that lasted for several instances. Mirage laid there and watched the entire thing unfold, admittedly a little bit turned on by the sheer brilliance of joy and pleasure to be seen in his lover's face. He held Hound as he came down from his high, still shaking.

"Primus," he said again, vents working overtime on regulating his core-temperature to something his internals could actually work with. "That was amazing."

"I'm glad you think so," Mirage smiled half-sparkedly, having a little difficulties hiding his not-quite-satisfied arousal with the warm, slack body of the scout covering every inch of him. His own engine chose that moment to let out a needy whine, mortifying the Tower's mech as it brought Hound attention back to his finger, still engulfed by Mirage's wanton port. As he experimentally curled his finger around again it immediately made the Ligier moan and clench around him, though Mirage quickly tried to brush it off:

"It's alright, please don't worry about it-"

"How could I possibly ignore something that sweet, that wonderful," the Jeep protested, leaning in to place a soft, promising kiss on Mirage's helmet, "After learning your intentions for my visit tonight all of my being was consumed with the idea, the desire for giving you pleasure, mapping out every curve of your chassis with my lips until all you could register was joy and tingling delight," Hound shivered as he continued to kiss his way down the Ligier's body, "The mere thought of it drives me wild! I've never experienced anything this addicting-"

The mech trailed off as he buried his face in Mirage's bared interface-components, with absolutely no warning, leaving the Tower's mech to gape out mutedly, thighs spasming in sharp jerks in response to the sudden sensation of having a broad glossa invading him, spreading him, tasting his need.

"H-Hound," he gasped, fingers still coated in transfluids from a short while earlier flew down to . . . What, stop the mech? Encourage him to go deeper? "O-oh, mmm," Mirage settled for grasping the larger's helmet just for the sake of anchoring himself to something solid and stable, safe, as the world was reduced to a teasing, lapping slickness in his soaked valve, gliding over every node and sensor until they sang with charge and the need for release.

Hound retracted his glossa and savoured the taste of the noble with great relish, thinking it was positively the sweetest liquid he'd ever tasted. He found that the hands on his head kept him from retracting too far away and he chuckled softly, the air of his systems ex-venting over the heated area, making the port ripple in reciprocation. The scout found his spike stirring again at the sight but he ignored it in favour of leaning in to nibble and suck along the delicate ridges around the entrance, exploring and fooling around a bit, listening with rapture every time he found a spot that made Mirage moan and trash on the berth.

Eventually Mirage couldn't fight off release any longer and he overloaded with a shaky sob, clutching the other's helmet to his body as his body shook with the electric sin-waves storming through every nerve-synapse, circuits frying deliciously.

Hound's hand glided over the still shivering Ligier's abdominal with obvious delight and want before raising himself up on all fours to watch the slimmer mech's dazed expression, spike once more 'charged and already spotting glinting beads of transfluid.

Mirage found himself grinning. How unlike him.

"You taste good," Hound smirked, licking his lip-plates at the sight of the warm, erotic noble below him, "Irresistible."

"So do you, my kind comrade," Mirage drawled while he stretched his body to appear more attractive to his lover, slowly bringing his hand still covered in Hound's fluids to his lips where he leisurely started to suck the evidence right off, leaving the Jeep's engine roaring with lust. "Very addictive."

"I'd be more than happy to oblige you another taste?" Hound smiled, hands hurriedly catching Mirage's as they went again for his spike, gently squeezing them. This time he had other plans for his spike.

"Oh," the Tower's mech chuckled breathlessly, glossa darting out as the scout leaned down to capture his lips. They kissed sloppily for a while, the main point of the kiss being to exchange the taste of each other, feeling it mingle. Hound deepened the kiss near the end, translating all his deep want and desire for the other through that simple, age-old gesture. Mirage was left a little out of breath. "How . . . generous of you."

"What can I say, I'm a giver," Hound joked lightly as he brushed his very erect spike against the spy's glistening entrance, the bulgy tip nuzzling the valve-walls like was it kissing them.

"Give it to me, then," Mirage whispered gently, interlacing their fingers, revving his engine again, this time a lot more carefully. "Take me, please."

"Yes . . ."

Hound glided home slowly, sweetly. Neither spoke as the length purposely grazing against highly sensitive nodes, still tingling from their earlier encounter with the scout's glossa, but the room filled with soft pants as the two joined intimately.

"Hound . . ."

"Mm?"

"You're truly a kind mech."

"Heh, thanks," Hound restrained himself from moving, focused on listening to what the noble-mech was saying instead. He could feel the other's spark-pulse through the thin walls of the valve, found his own body responding and synchronize to it. "I think you're pretty amazing, too."

"So we've already established," Mirage teased softly, testing his port by carefully shifting underneath the heavy bulk of the other. He was ready soon. "But I'm very glad I invited you in. And so happy you accepted. I'm very happy I've finally gotten to know you."

"Aw, Mirage," Hound smiled, slowly pulling back before pushing back in, "I hope this isn't the last time we'll ever share conversation!"

"Ahn," the Ligier moaned helplessly as the pressurized spike swiftly glided against all his most sensitive spots, "C-certainly not. I hope this might only be the beginning of a great friendship-" he broke off with a high moan as Hound's hands started feeling up his headlights again.

"Not just a 'great' friendship, a b-beautiful one," the Jeep groaned as he slammed his hips harder against the squirming beauty under him, grinding deeper every time he felt that special, deep node that sent shivers all the way up to the noble's spark every time it was touched. The sounds that escaped him then were out of this world.

"Please," Mirage pleaded again, unable to put any true words or demands together to form what he wished for, "please, please, please-"

Hound's hands abandoned his lover's chest-piece in favour of wrapping both arms impossible tightly around the slimmer waist, lifting him up off the berth to hug him close, keep them together in these final seconds of the act.

Mirage's pleads had by then devolved into keening wails of pleasure, his valve tightening its grip around the invading spike, as if trying to keep it in now that he was so close to the invisible barrier, that impossible edge . . . If only Hound would keep thrusting up against that spot, "Ohh, ahnn . . ."

Hound burrowed his face in the spy's throat-cables, shakily inhaling the sweet bouquet of the smaller, a mixture of heated, Tower's metals and mouth-watering oils, but also something different, something that didn't compute as anything other than the scent of 'Mirage'. He feared that he could easily fall for this mech. This mech who was older, wiser, much more educated and cultured, and so, so, beautiful . . . But as he began seeing sparks fly behind his optics, knowing how close he was to that ripe moment of fulfilment as he slammed his spike desperately into that moist, beckoning heat, none of it mattered, none of it registered.

Mirage was no longer a stranger, but a live, gentle force of sexuality; as real as any commoner, with needs like any other. The moment they shared wasn't just an occurrence of casual meetings to sate casual needs; it was destiny.

It happened instantaneously as Mirage interlaced their fingers again.

Their optics went white, aglow with the force of an inner maelstrom of electric ecstasy. Hound ceased all movement as Mirage closed impossibly tight around him, sealing them together as they shared a moment of nothing but shaking limbs, flaring fields, spinning-out-of-control engines, and mouths opened in soundless screams. The world went blurry, static-lazed, until it went dark. Completely . . .

.

.

.

Mirage blinked online again, the metal of their frames ticking noisily as it cooled down. Condense water lay on their chests like small Praxian crystals, glittering in the soft lights of their flickering optics.

Hound was staring up at the ceiling, green frame looking like a vast, grassy valley, dew shining in a magnificent sunrise. He felt poetic, all of a sudden.

"Primus," the scout said, sounding mind-blown.

"Primus," Mirage agreed, still looking at the handsome youth. A part of him wanted to sleep, the other wanted to keep up this inane conversation.

"No, you're 'Primus'," the Jeep chuckled, finally turning his head to look into the spy's golden optics. So help him, just looking into that face made him want to go again! "Though I'm very flattered that you enjoyed what I had to offer."

What he had to offer.

Mirage found that he didn't like how it came off like an once-in-a-lifetime thing, something that he couldn't try and experience again. He narrowed his optics but resisted commenting on how he certainly wasn't happy about it all being a one-time fling. "I did."

Hound rolled onto his elbow, leaning in to watch the noble's facial expression, a crooked smile forming on his own lips, "Mirage, why, are you sulking?"

"No. Of course I am not."

Hound beamed openly before leaning down to properly capture those tempting, exotic lips in a kiss that left both of them tingling again. The Ligier blinked dazedly up, frame warming quickly as he felt a hand near his aft again.

"Good. 'Course we don't have time for sulking," his smile turned seductively, with a little twist of that playful charm that was Hound, "Since I have so many other things I want to prove I can offer you."

"Indeed?"

Hound smiled widely, returning the eager kiss as he rolled on top of the older, letting his fingertips ghost across seams and shapely limbs. Mirage merely held on to his chance encounter, drowning himself in an ocean of consensual want and delight that held promises of becoming so much more.

A/N: So how's that for a first PWP-attempt? I'm somewhat satisfied myself; I suppose that's an award in itself?