Chapter Text
Working with the government for the second time, ever, was more jarring than Noah had expected. He was used to following orders, nodding his head and saluting easily enough, but the work itself was…refreshing to say the least. It was new, exciting, but thankfully nowhere near as morally dubious or world threatening as trying to save the Transwarp Key was.
All that being said, Noah was glad to get regular work for a change. Sure selling pirated cable to gangsters was ‘fun’ and all, but this was less likely to get him arrested. It was made all the better that he still got to hang out and even work with his friend, Mirage.
Over the past year and a half Noah and Mirage had grown ever closer, saving each other’s skins (well, plating in the bot’s case) and hanging out after a mission. Noah was thankful he’d met Mirage, even if their first meeting wasn’t necessarily ideal, he was glad nonetheless.
The past week though…Mirage had been acting off, and that was putting it lightly. It started out small, him going on late night drives in the middle of the night. Noah had figured that he was just getting home sick or having some issues sleeping, he always made it home in one piece and there was never anything on the news about an unruly speeding Porsche so Noah didn’t bother asking about it.
Then it escalated, Mirage was always an antsy bot, but he’d taken to pacing around their shared bunker lately. Noah idly wondered if Mirage had the Cybertronian equivalent of ADHD or something similar. Though the pacing didn’t bother him any, so he didn’t bring it up.
Then one day, not a mission thankfully, Noah had made to open Mirage’s door and hop in, only to find it hot to the touch. Not scalding or anything harmful, but still odd enough to finally get Noah to ask some questions.
“Woah, uh, Mirage?” Noah asked, tentatively touching the back of his fingers to the metal of the door, “What’s up with your doors man? Been sleeping in the sun lately?”
Mirage’s rear-view mirrors tilted and adjusted themselves to look at Noah, surprised, “M-my doors? What are they like- burning or sumn?” Mirage sounded concerned now, probably worried that Noah had hurt himself.
“Nah, just kinda warm, you good? I didn’t wanna say anything but, like, you’ve been acting a lil off lately.” Noah winced and pinched his forefinger and thumb together.
Mirage wheeled back a bit, inching back and forth on his tires, anxious and fretting over something he didn’t want to talk about. “Oh, uh, well,” Mirage transformed his head just shy of hitting the ceiling, rocking back on his haunches. Upon closer inspection he saw that condensation was clinging to the joints of Mirages plating and his vents were cycling hot, humid air. “Yeah- I mean, I’m good, y’know.”
Noah raised a brow, unconvinced, “You don’t look good to me.”
Mirage still had enough energy to act offended, he leaned back, gasped and held a hand to his chassis, “I always look good, what are you talking about?”
Noah rolled his eyes, huffing, “Dude, I know you guys don’t sweat, but you have condensation on your armor, and your vents are like- huffing fucking clouds dude. I know you well enough to know that shit?” Noah pointed to the steam filtering out of Mirage’s sides, “Ain’t normal. So tell me what’s up.”
Mirage opened his mouth to argue before he finally looked down and seemed to realize how bad he really looked. His optics flitted from Noah down to himself for a moment before heaving a sigh. His whole body slumped down, falling down to his rear, knees pulled up to his chassis. For the first time Noah saw Mirage look…embarrassed, ashamed even.
“It… It’ll take a minute to explain, but I’m not dyin’ or anything like that. Promise.” Mirage started, optics doing anything and everything to avoid meeting Noah’s gaze. Mirage took a breath he probably didn’t need and exhaled, steadying himself, before diving into a simplified version of what exactly was happening to him. “Okay, so, Cybertronians are traditionally asexual, y’know, no sex drive or anything like that. Cuz’ before the war our planet, Cybertron, basically pumped us out on a complicated conveyor belt. Every bot was pretty distinct but there were certain models and protoform molds that it used. Uh, when the war started, production kind of stopped, for the most part.” Mirage explained.
“When both sides started running low on soldiers someone, can’t remember who specifically, but I’m pretty sure it was an Autobot scientist or doctor, invented a string of code and um,” Mirage reset his vocalizer awkwardly, “equipment, to help reproduce more Cybertronians.”
Noah nodded, genuinely interested in what Mirage was saying, though still lost as to why he was so embarrassed.
“It’s- It’s like how, uh, how you guys…reproduce, kinda. This is like the short version, there’s a lot more to it, but the basics is; the code was installed to pretty much every Cybertronian made after, and others who volunteered to help repopulate. The code basically sends us into, eh, ‘reproductive mode’ for a short while.” He finally gestured down at himself. “That’s…what this is. Pretty much.”
Noah nodded and was silent for a moment, lost in contemplative thought before finally speaking, “So you’re in heat?”
Mirage groaned and threw his hands over his face, “Uggghhhhhh, don’t say it like that! Man- this is already embarrassing enough, I mean it’s not like I can go to anyone for help! And it’s only gonna get worse, of-fragging-course.” He dragged his hands down his face, optics rolling up to the ceiling in exasperation.
“Dude, I’m sorry, but that’s basically what this is, cats and dogs do it too,” Noah offered in an attempt to comfort his friend. It seemed to have the opposite effect though, Mirage finally meeting Noah’s eyes with a flat, annoyed stare.
“Please don’t try to compare this shit to animals, it ain’t helpin’.”
Noah threw his hands up in mock surrender, “Sorry! Sorry, it’s just… I mean is there anything I can do to help?”
Mirage leaned back, his knees falling to the side, the metallic tendons and mesh flexing as they stretched, “I dunno, normally I’d just go find someone to ‘help’, y’know? But those were usually friends or just hook ups. I know all the bot’s here though!” He threw his hands up, frustrated. “It’s not like I can walk up to any of ‘em and ask: ‘Hey! Could you bend me over for an hour and rail my valve?’ Can you imagine Bee, or Primus forbid Optimus’ reaction? Spoiler alert! It wouldn't be a pretty one.”
Noah nodded, thoughtful and understanding, “Yeah, I see what you mean, ‘d be pretty weird to ask your coworker or boss for a lay.” He idly swung his arms in front of him, connecting his palm and side of his fist together, trying to figure out a way to help.
“So, and I’m only asking for like, info ‘n shit, what exactly has to happen to get this,” he gestured to Mirage as a whole, “To go away?”
“It’s different for every ‘bot, but for me it’s a few good overload’s and a good recharge.” Mirage crossed his legs and tried to ignore the ache behind his interface panels.
“‘Kay… and by overload you mean orgasm and by recharge you mean sleep, right?” Noah asked, palms pressed together, all ten fingers pointing to Mirage.
Mirage nodded slowly, wondering where Noah was going with this before finally realizing why they were playing twenty questions, “Dude! We can’t ‘face! Shit is not possible or safe, fuckin’ look at you dude!” Mirage gestured down to his partner, “I’d tear you in half and I’m not even big by Cybertronian standards, and if you try to stick that fleshy human meat stick up me it’ll probably get ripped off. And that’s all without considering my internal temperature.”
Noah held up his hands, now more defensive than anything, “I have hands! Look man, you can’t keep goin’ like this, if we get a mission and you’re dripping with water and panting like a fucking dog it’s gonna be a distraction, not to mention if you keep heating up it’s gonna kill you.”
Mirage huffed, grumbled and tried to formulate some sort of argument, he was coming up flat though. While Noah was still a coworker, they were much closer than just that, they spent nearly every day together and were only growing closer. And by all means Mirage wasn’t opposed to interspecies relations, despite what other Cybertronians would say or think.
“I dunno… I still think I’m gonna end up hurting you…” Mirage trailed off, unsure for once.
Noah approached his companion, placing a gentle hand on his metal knee, “You haven’t hurt me before, I don’t see why this is any different.”
Mirage regarded Noah for a moment, eyeing him carefully, as if he were trying to figure out some ulterior motive his human might have. Noah, however, was as earnest and gentle as he was with his brother. It made Mirage’s spark cycle in his chassis.
Finally Mirage sighed, a cloud of steam filtering out as his fans whirred in his chest. “Alright, if you’re sure, then…okay.” Mirage said at last, meeting Noah’s soft smile with one of his own.
Noah grinned, and patted Mirage’s knee, “That’s more like it, so… where do you wanna start?” He backed up and gave Mirage some room to maneuver himself into a comfortable position.
Mirage hummed, thoughtfully looking around before spying the far end of the room. They both used it to hose off equipment and Mirage himself after particularly dirty missions (which were frequent). He stood and made his way over, knees wobbling ever so slightly before plopping himself down. The space had a small dip that led towards a drain, with a large, sturdy, metal hose hanging behind him on a hook drilled into the concrete wall. The nozzle was human sized, and therefore too small for Mirage to use on himself, so Noah was often set with the task of getting his partner clean.
“I used to use something like this back home,” Mirage said, handing the hose to Noah, its squeeze handle fitting nicely in the human’s hand. “‘Course we use oil and solvent, not water, but it’ll work fine.”
Mirage reset his vocalizer again, “Well, uh, guess I should ‘strip’ as the humans say.” He chuckled weakly, his modesty panels snicking apart.
Noah blinked and stepped between Mirage’s legs, the site before him drawing out his innate human curiosity. Before him was a pulsing wet organ, shiny with an alien lubricant and dripping wet. He gulped softly and found mild humor that Cybertronians held more similarities to humans than either realized.
The organ was much like a human cunt, puffy metallic lips and an inner labia that was made of some sort of mesh. Not metal but definitely not flesh, at least not by the human definition. It had a swollen clit looking object at the top of it, practically begging for some form of attention.
Noah huffed softly, “You weren’t lyin’ about the temperature, I can see the heat waves bouncing off you.” Noah said softly, trying to ignore how tight his boxers were becoming.
Mirage offered a forced laugh, if only to keep the atmosphere from getting too awkward. “Heh, uh, yeah, like I said, probably best not to stick your uh, Spike, or whatever you call yours inside.” Mirage gestured to Noah’s crotch.
Noah huffed, “I doubt it’d do much good for you anyways,” he jerked his chin to Mirage’s slit, “So tell me what you want, sooner this is over the sooner you start feeling better.”
Mirage nodded stiffly, “Right, uh, just like blast the water at my anterior node,” Mirage used a single hand to spread his valve lips apart. He squeezed the clit like organ and winced, vents pouring more steam.
Noah nodded, “Alright, sounds simple enough,” he fiddled with the nozzle settings for a moment before turning it on Mirage’s valve and letting the jet of water wash over it.
Mirage grunted, hips jerking before retracting his hand and setting it down next to him, propping himself against the tiled wall. “Yeah, like- like that, frag Noah.”
The gush of water washed over Mirage’s valve, its glean and rippling mesh drawing Noah closer, inch by inch. Soon he found himself stroking Mirage’s thigh, dipping his fingertips into transformation seams. The cables and mesh behind Mirage’s armor was soft, softer than Noah thought it would be. With each touch they flexed and tensed, the ‘bot hissing and sighing as he was worked over.
Noah moved his hand lower, over Mirage’s thighs and into the space between his groin. The cables there flexed and tensed, Mirage made a strangled sound as he shifted, metal lids squeezed closed. Noah couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight, his ears drinking in the soft sounds that spilled from Mirage’s mouth.
Noah subtly squeezed the handle tighter, the spray jetting out and splashing back onto his grease stained jeans. Mirage made a strangled noise, his voice box crackling with static as he tried to keep some semblance of control. Noah huffed as his shirt was soaked with mist and back splash from the hose. He changed hands for a moment, pulling one arm through his shirt sleeve before shuffling it over his head. He switched hands again to pull it off his remaining arm before tossing it over his head, forgotten for the time being.
Noah braced himself against Mirage’s thigh and began running the jet of water up and down the slit, watching as Mirage let out a warbling moan. His hips rose off the tiled ground as he tried to chase after his overload, vents huffing steam in billowing clouds. His face plates scrunched and shifted as he nearly whimpered under the strain and electricity running up his spinal strut. “Frag- close, close, Noah-” Mirage’s voice was laced in tense static, his optics flaring bright with charge.
Noah just amps up the pressure and ignores how tight his pants had grown and how much he wanted to bury his cock in Mirage’s tight, wet, valve. “C’mon Mirage, let go, just let it happen,” Noah mumbled, softly stroking Mirage’s thigh while the water pressure sent lightning up his wires.
Mirage’s voice hiccuped, a burst of static shooting from his throat cables, “Don’t- don’t wanna hurt you,” Mirage nearly cried, his optics two blue flames inlaid into his helm.
“You won’t Raj’, I know you won’t, just let go, let it happen.” Noah encouraged, moving his hand to touch the node directly, groping it softly. It was a slightly sturdier, harder mesh than his valve lining. Not entirely metal but not flesh, Noah had heard the ‘bots talk about protoforms and wondered if that was what it was.
“Frag- Noah-” Mirage started before arching his spinal strut off the wall and thrusting his hips down onto the stream of water assaulting his node. A light pink fluid gushed from his valve, his bio-lights shimmering with electricity as his voice box shorted out half way through a broken sob. Mirage’s servo came to clamp over his mouth, hips and struts still shaking under the water pressure.
Slowly, shakily, Noah eases up the pressure until the hose is off completely. Mirage’s helm is tipped back against the wall, his optics shut off and dim. His vents are still pouring out steam but it seems to be lessening with every huff.
Noah pats Mirage’s leg gently, “Hey, you good? That do the trick?” His voice is surprisingly steady, given his limbs were shaking. He was so hard it hurt, he had to fight off the growing urge to palm himself through his soaked jeans. The scent of Mirage’s lubricant hangs in the air, heavy and sweet in an artificial almost acrid way.
Mirage’s optics cycle before he finally looks down, optical lids heavy as he blinks audibly. “Yeah…yeah that did somethin’ that’s for sure.” Mirage chuckled weakly, servo coming up to cup Noah from behind. “Slag, if I knew you were gonna be that good, I would’a asked a lot sooner.”
Noah snorts and leans back into Mirage’s hand, blush smearing over his cheek bones from the heat and the praise. “It’s nothin’, homies gotta help each other out sometimes, right? Plus the only thing I really did was hold a water hose to your junk.”
Mirage’s smile turned soft, his brows creasing as he clicked his tongue, “You did a lot more than just hold a hose up to my valve,” His hand scoops Noah up gently, bringing him up to Mirage’s optics. “I could have gone to the other ‘bots, I really, really didn’t want to, still don’t, but you could’ve said no and made me go anyways. You seriously helped me out, and…” He turned his optics to the still very prominent bulge in Noah’s jeans, “I’m thinkin’ of returning the favor, whadya say?”
Noah blinked, throat dry but somehow producing words, “Wh- I mean, you don’t have to.”
“Yeah I know, you didn’t have to either, still don’t have to want this, if you don’t,” Mirage gently placed his finger under Noah’s jaw and lifted his gaze back up, “but I do, I promise.”
Noah nearly melted into a puddle right then and there. Mirage had a way of making him feel so…soft and vulnerable. He felt like an idiot, but more than that he felt such immense love for his robotic companion.
Noah didn’t answer right away, instead he reached out for Mirage, brown eyes soft, dark lashes hooding them. Mirage couldn’t be more head over wheels for him, everything about Noah was amazing. These feelings were by no means new, but this was the first time he’d let them take such a hold over his actions.
Mirage met Noah’s lips with his own, impossibly gentle, given the size difference. Mirage’s hands cupped Noah like running water, careful and delicate, his thumb stroking Noah’s exposed chest with tender reverence. Noah arched into the touch, cock twitching in the confines of his jeans, his thighs spread imperceptibly. Mirage’s lips are cool and smooth against his own, but still pliant and soft enough to not crush his own.
Mirage eased Noah onto his back, still holding him in the palm of his hand, his thumb stroking the plains of his freckled chest. His free hand pinched the loose fabric of one of Noah’s pant legs and gave a gentle tug, “These need to come off if you still wanna get your dick wet.” He smirked, handsome face smug and smooth. Noah wanted to kiss him again, but only chuckled before toeing his soaked shoes and socks off before shimmying out of his soaked pants.
He was left in his boxers, the cushion of fabric a needed layer between Mirage’s metal fingers. Whether he was gentle as a feather or not, it was better to be safe than sorry. Though it’s not like his boxers hid much to begin with, the tent sticking up like a flagpole was evidence enough for that.
To Noah’s surprise though, Mirage looked at him, “Mind if I use my glossa? Er, tongue to you.” He added for clarification.
Noah blinked, “uh, I mean you don’t have to-” but Mirage’s finger came to press his lips together.
“I don’t have to do anything, but I want to, plus I know it’ll make you squirm,” Mirage’s smirk would be insufferable if Noah weren’t so turned on by it. Damn hormones.
“God, you’re the worst, but yeah, sure, fine,” Noah grumbled, not even managing to look a little bit irritated.
Mirage merely huffs before leaning down to press his glossa- tongue, against Noah’s hard-on. The pressure is immeasurably pleasurable, Noah gets a soft strangled gasp caught in the back of his throat as his hips arch and back bows. “Fuck-” is all he manages to work out before Mirage is massaging into his dick and abdomend, it’s soft, pliant as it morphs against the grooves of Noah’s abs.
Noah groans, a thin sound from him trying not to scream and let the whole base know what they were up to. The last thing he needed was another agent barging in to see Mirage slurping Noah up like a smoothie. Or licking more like, since Mirage only has to lap at Noah to get him to fall apart. His boxers are soaking in oral solvent, his legs are dripping with a mixture of that, water and the lubricant Mirage practically squirted.
“C-close, not gonna, not gonna last long, ‘Raj, fuck you’re too good at this-” Noah babbles incoherently, words jumbled between broken moans and warbling cries as Mirage toys with him. One of Noah’s arms clings to the thumb Mirage has clutched over his chest the other pawing at the Autobot emblem welded to the ‘bots forehead.
Orgasm crashes over Noah in an instant, he writhes and jerks in Mirage’s grasp, gasping incoherent Spanish and English as his bones vibrate and lungs heave in air. His hips arch to meat Mirage’s glossa or tongue or whatever the fuck he wanted to call it. Noah knew for sure that he would never get enough of it, especially when it pressed just so against the head of his cock, tender and sweet and vulgar.
Noah loved Mirage, the fact buzzes around his skull like a junebug, bumping against the fatty gray-matter of his brain. His heart aches, because he doesn’t know if Mirage even considered love in this situation, even as he trails kisses up Noah’s chest before planting one against the crook up his shoulder and neck. His lips cool against Noah’s heated skin and very welcomed.
Noah tries to form words, but saying thankyou sounds weird, and saying I love you leaves a bittersweet taste in the back of his throat. Instead he gulps and lets Mirage carry him to his ‘room’ which was just a raised concrete platform that housed his bed and other belongings. Noah slides off Mirage’s palm and steadies himself on wobbling legs before pulling his ruined underwear off.
He feels sticky and gross but can’t find it in himself to care, especially after that particularly mind blowing orgasm, no pun intended. Mirage reaches over to his laundry basket and hands him a towel, doing his best not to stare directly at the other man’s junk, which Noah is appreciative of, but finds a bit unnecessary.
“Thanks,” He says as he takes the towel and pats himself dry before tossing it back in with the rest of his dirty laundry. He reasoned he could gather the rest of his soaked clothing before Mirage dumps them unceremoniously onto his floor. They’ve been wrung out so they’re not dripping, so there’s that.
Noah snorts, “Thanks, and uh, you don’t have to like, worry about me bringing this up again, if you don’t want. This can just be a one time thing if you want.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he settled into his bed, covers draped over his lower half.
Mirage looks thoughtful as he rests his head over his arm, propped onto the metal safety railing that surrounds the perimeter of Noah’s room. Mirage shrugs finally, optics soft and dim, he’s probably just as tired as Noah, if not moreso.
“It…doesn’t have to be,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind a repeat sesh’.”
Noah studies his face for any lie, or possible mistranslation in Mirage’s words, but his face is soft and open. Noah wordlessly reaches out and is met with Mirage’s hand covering his abdomend. The pressure was gentle, and when Mirage tilted his head against his arm, smiling softly, Noah felt in his soul that Mirage was being genuine.
“If you want it, then yeah, I do too.” He says softly, voice even despite the ache of tears threatening to over take him.
Mirage chuckled and pulled Noah’s covers further up, tucking him in, “You don’t have to y’know,” Mirage teases, stroking a gentle finger across Noah’s chest.
Noah, despite himself, laughs, gently pushing Mirage’s finger, “Shut up and go to bed,” He drinks in the mirth leaking from Mirage’s optics as he takes his hand away.
“Night, Noah,” he says gently, before turning away and ducking into his alt mode.
Noah listened to his tires roll into his own room, a cozy little garage set up, before settling into bed himself.
A repeat sesh’... that didn’t sound like a bad idea.