Chapter Text
The chatter of the club was overwhelmed hopelessly by the rhythmic thrum of music from the speakers. Just a few lights were positioned overhead on the rafters, all dulled across a variety of colors that provided just enough visibility for each patron and employee to navigate the cramped space. Currently the lights were purple, coaxing themselves further into a pinkish hue as the kliks passed.
That was when you got the call.
“Who?” Shock and a smidge of curiosity laced your tone.
“You heard me.” Shattershot said, your ever so humored friend and co-worker nudging in the direction of the stairs. “Go get ‘em you lucky glitch. It’s not everyday that he takes the time to actually pick out someone he’s got a rod-on for. Usually he just grabs whoever is closest.”
Sighing, you set the tray that you were holding down on the bar’s counter. “Thanks for the pep talk, Shotty. My question is-”
“Did he pay in advance? Oh Primus, yeah! Triple your usual charge too. The most I’ve seen him go up to was adding on eh, maybe 70% extra if you’re lucky. He sure must be feeling the Engex tonight.”
“Let’s hope he’s not too far gone.” Muttering, you walked across the main clubbing area, slipping past whirring joints that danced away and hollars to the music, reaching the main staircase to the second floor.
It was less of a second floor and more of an overhanging balcony walkway that flanked the long wall down the length of the dance floor. Beside the walkway, barely translucent curtains dotted the wall that led to more private square booths for seating amongst the wealthy patrons of the club.
Stopping, you double checked that the name reservation was correct and matched the current occupancy name on the booth, which didn’t take but a moment. Ah of course, he never deviated from renting out the same booth each time. Its resident was further obvious from the dark framed mech who stood outside, his signature bodyguard and surveillance master, Airachnid giving a scowl to you.
Booth number one.
A hearty laugh sounded from inside the booth making you wonder if someone else wasn’t already inside.
“I can see you standing out there, Sweetspark. Come inside. I promise I won’t bite.”
Taking this as your invitation, you pulled the curtain aside to reveal the towering figure of Sentinel Prime. Shoving an arm out, clearly intoxicated beyond just a drink or two, the resident Prime in command beckoned you forward with a come hither curl of his pointer digit. That smile upon his lips was a strange combination of handsome and deviously wicked. It looked so akin to what you had seen on the various broadcasts countless times, but with an unrestrained edge as if finally being able to shed that bit of professionalism for the cameras.
Walking forward, you scooted into the booth, sitting next to the Prime, although you took extra care to wiggle your hips out, even swinging a leg to hook over one of Sentinel’s knees. An arm swooped around your shoulders, dragging you closer to where you placed your weight on Sentinel’s chest, servos rubbing across his torso in a way that sent his turbines rumbling.
“Hm, not your first rodeo now is it?”
“Far from it.” Your foot now traced lines down his other leg, before you shifted to straddle one of his thighs fully. “What can I do for our holy Prime tonight?”
Another laugh, this one shorter, more curt akin to the ones you’d heard during interviews with him on the broadcasts. Both your servos traced the two main plates across his chest, taking a sudden appreciation of how spotless his blue paint job was. You also noticed a slight glimmer of added gold flecks to the paint, a rather vain, luxurious choice, even for a Prime.
Placing his servos around you, rather drunkenly although with a stiff mannerism as if in an attempt to come across far more sober than he really was, Sentinel whispered directly into your audials. “Listen, Gorgeous, it’s already been a long night and I’m sure you’ve had the same so I’ll save us both the back and forth. You’ve got a startlingly good set of lips and I’ve got a spike in dire need of some attention that I know you can give so well…how does that sound?”
His last phrase was as if he was about to broker a business deal which many would have seen as jarringly rude, but you liked it better this way. You were paid to be here for a job and it only helped to save you the headache of acting like you even cared about who you were with when they just got to the point. It was far less messy this way.
Smiling back before giving a suggestive bite to your lip plating, you slid off of his thigh to between his legs on the floor of the booth, narrowly under the table.
“Sounds good to me, Sir.”
He let you lead.
However, that was certainly not what the act continued with as the klicks passed.
A whine of need sounded from the massive chassis above you, his hips rutting up to fuck your mouth with careless abandon. Both of his servos were around your helm, keeping it in place and occasionally pulling it down upon his spike when he felt his hips not be able to get deep enough inside you. You gave a silent prayer of thanks to Primus for placing your main vents on the sides of your torso rather than in your intake as you were certain this could have gone a lot worse.
The girth of his spike pressed uncomfortably against your intake, the sudden pull of himself in and out of you startling your systems despite your oral lubrication working overtime as you kept both servos on his thighs to steady yourself. Moaning only seemed to encourage him onward as his optics remained closed, helm thrown back in ecstasy as he felt the tightness of your throat clench around his length, glossa occasionally flicking back and forth down the bottom of his shaft. His sudden jolts made you aware of how sore and bruised the sensitive protoform of your intake would be as his spike’s head repeatedly slammed into you.
He was clearly close, not quick enough for you as you sucked down harder as he gave a buck of his hips into your face. His abdominal plating was your sole view now and had been for awhile, his grip upon your helm preventing you from looking up to him.
Whatever, it wasn’t like you cared.
It wasn’t personal, it was purely business. This was a fact that Sentinel seemed to understand more than any of your patrons in the last three mega cycles had. It was a relieving change despite how the Prime was essentially using your intake as his own personal fuck toy. As long as you got paid, he could use you for whatever he wanted, granted it was within his time limit.
A gasp sounded from Sentinel as his legs shook, hips canting one last time to thrust a warm secretion of overload down your throat. Your jaw joint popped causing you to mentally curse, but maintain your composure as you bobbed your helm up and down slowly to coax the overload from Sentinel. Swallowing it down as quick as it came, you gave him a last cleaning suck which earned an overstimulated murmur that was entirely incomprehensible. Despite being over with your first round, Sentinel’s sizable servos practically shoving your helm off of him, you stayed for another moment, licking your lips and making sure your jaw wasn’t entirely messed up.
As much as you knew this wasn’t personal you had to admit the view was rather gratifying. Cybertron’s grand leader was now slumped against the booth, legs splayed, thighs occasionally twitching as he groaned as if his systems were struggling with getting fully back online. Fans cycled loudly, practically screaming over the music as he gathered himself enough to shift his modesty paneling closed and wave a servo towards the curtain. His helm was still slouched back, not giving you a second glance as his optics remained closed.
“Go on. You’re dismissed.”
His words were slurred, quieter than his previous statements of welcome as you nearly gave a smile at your job well done. He wasn’t even a quarter into the original slot of time he paid for (not to mention his heaping tip he had originally tacked on) and you were able to get off early.
Getting back up, you used a mesh cloth on the table to wipe your lips and intake, before giving a slight incline of a bow, more of a mock one than real one, to Sentinel. “Thank you my liege. It was a pleasure to serve you.”
He didn’t reply, not with words anyway as he instead gave a breathy moan as if still basking in the wake of his overload. Turning, you stepped quickly out of the booth, shoving past the curtain as you met Arachnid’s gaze. She wasn’t scowling this time so much as giving a curious glance to you, particularly to your helm and how you were holding your jaw with a servo, before looking away from you and back down to the main club’s dance floor. You supposed that was an improvement from earlier.
Walking down the stairway, you flexed your mouth, giving an audible curse as you realized how achy and sore it was already growing from the sudden stress on the joint. Perhaps you had mildly underestimated your frame’s ability to take a bot such as Sentinel’s size…
No matter. It would clear up after a quick trip to the local med facility and a shift or two off from any oral activities.
Easy enough. You stifled a laugh as you thought about the ridiculousness of the situation. The Prime himself who always cast himself as a beacon of selfless virtue had certainly taken his own needs first as of tonight. Something flaky lingered on your cheek as you peeled it off to see that it was a fleck of dry paint, its signature chrome blue reflecting off of the now red hued lighting across the club as a deep purple. Not exactly sure why, you stored the paint in a subspace as if for no other reason than as a little trophy of your strange night.
Surely this was a random circumstance of chance and you’d likely never even see the Prime again except on his broadcasts. Shaking your helm at the association you would now hold with Sentinel no matter how sanitized his courteous and thoughtful his camera-ready smile was, you flexed your jaw one more time before heading to the staff room to grab your things and leave for the night.
You’d have plenty of time to call Shattershot on your way home to tell her exactly how your celebrity encounter had gone.
~
For the second time in a matter of days, Sentinel Prime now occupied your full attention.
You received a summons from your own quarters outside of work to the Prime’s personal tower two days later. And as ever the diligent servant and citizen, you showed up to his door, a few minutes earlier than the stated time.
Airachnid walked you up to his room, pausing at the door as she gave a knock on your behalf, announcing you. She was less interested in whatever was going on between you two as her numerous optics kept a close watch on all ends of the hallway and out of the windows.
“Come in!”
The door widened in a large arc, massive doors nearly spanning floor to ceiling which ran several stories even in the Prime’s private quarters. Gold covered nearly every surface, lofty windows spotted the walls which looked out upon the city as your vision honed quickly in on a singular ultramarine blue mech in the center of the room. Despite the glamor of the surrounding space, you strode forward to see what this was about exactly.
“Sentinel Prime. I didn’t think I’d see you again…Care to fill me in on what this is about?”
That glossy, wide grin stayed on the Prime’s expression as he greeted you, ushering you towards a seating arrangement of several chairs and couches spread around a large, low table. “You’re early! A punctual mech. I like it. Come, take a seat.”
You both settled in on the couches across from each other, your posture noticeably more stiff and upright in comparison to Sentinel’s relaxed lean back.
“So, about our last meeting…I was informed of an injury you obtained in service of me. I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me! Truly horrible, just awful all around.” You nearly opened your mouth to object that it was hardly an injury, more of a minor grievance that often accompanied your job when servicing larger mechs, but instead let him continue out of curiosity.
“Well, I had this idea, a rather clever one I think. I’d send a summons for you and let you have some fun this time. All the time that you’re here will be reimbursed financially for your troubles with an extra 200% tip. Sounds good, hm?”
Your tongue got the better of you as you smirked, giving a rather sass filled reply. “Maybe. What if I don’t accept this?”
Sentinel’s smile faltered slightly, optics noticeably void of any sort of amusement. “Do you?”
Mm, why the hell not? After all this would be paid for and you got to do whatever you wanted to the Prime of all mechs…Not many, if any at all, could say they had such an experience.
“Sure. Tack an extra 50% on the tip and we’re good.”
Sentinel bristled slightly, lip twitching, although he nodded and got up, arm stretched towards a side door that led to his berth chambers.
“Perfect. Follow me if you would.”
He sure wasn’t awful with his tongue.
Your vents were practically screaming out through your frame as you panted, helm lulled to the side. Sentinel was currently on his knees, between your thighs as he held your hips up to his helm, letting your frame hang upside down as he ate out your valve. Your legs tightened around his helm, hooking even tighter against his shoulders as you felt his tongue curl inside you before flicking back out to massage against your node. Servos dug so far into his sheets you were sure they were tearing the mesh fabric, but you ceased to care now.
“Any complaints? It sure sounds like you’re enjoying yourself more than last time.”
An illegible murmur sounded from you as he started up again, tongue threading past plump valve lips to circle around your node. Every few motions, he paused to suck down as if he had developed a rhythm for such an act. As predetermined and certainly not instinctual as his motions felt, he still clearly had this performance down to a science, stimulating your sensors in just the right way at the right times to leave you a mess that was near to overloading.
As weak as you felt, you tried to buck your hips into his mouth further prompting him to use one servo to hold your hips in place as his other gained a better grip on your waist.
“Easy there. Don’t want to have a reverse repeat of my own mistake. Patience, as they say, is a virtue.”
Your legs simply spread further to give his helm more room as you moaned audibly at the building sensation in your sensornet of a static laced charge near to releasing.
“Sen- Sentinel, I’m clos-”
“I can tell, darling. Your calipers are tighter than a few kliks ago.” He murmured the observation against your node as he shifted a servo down to grasp at your chest plating, groping down the steep curves of your frame. “Let go for me. Give me a show.”
As much as you didn’t want to be told what to do it was hard to resist this handsome pain in the aft when his tongue was fragging in and out of you as if he was starving for transfluid. With each movement back into your valve, the calipers inside you fluttered against each intrusion causing a series of flinches that caused Sentinel to re-adjust his grip on your hips tighter to hold you in place.
The static was near unbearable now as your optics flickered offline, spark humming energetically as it seemed to drink the latent charge off of the Prime’s EM field. You always had wondered what it would be like overloading from a Prime…now, it was happening.
“Oh- oh, by the Primes- SENTINEL!!” The scream was ripped from your intake, echoing across the high vaulted walls and ceiling of Sentinel’s room as you overloaded. This fact however, made no difference in his rhythm of how his tongue licked up every drop of you, face now buried between your thighs, nose rubbing intoxicatingly against your node and valve lips. You shuddered, murmuring a string of curses and praises rolled into one as your frame went limp, his helm finally shifting upwards to glance at you.
He smirked, clearly satisfied with a job well done. Enough of a job well done to get you off first.
Now was his turn…
Sentinel lowered your listless, spent frame to lay on the bed, face up as he licked the remnants of you off of his lips. Tossing a leg over you, the Prime now straddled your hips as he continued to grope the paneling of your waist, speaking in a soft yet stern voice, “Shhh, see? That wasn’t so bad. The only pain your jaw should get now was from all that noise you made. Quite a simple fix, don’t you think?”
Without waiting for an answer, Sentinel slid open his own modesty paneling as your frame shifted back to life, optics clicking on. You felt the nudge of it against your thigh before you fully registered what he was doing.
That was your first sight once your optics came back online after you had been thoroughly handled to an overload by the Prime himself. A dark blue spike lined with thin gold stripes along its sides now lingered over your valve, the length of it just beginning to settle over sensitive, swollen lips. That smile you had seen broadcasted near daily grinned back at you, clearly driven to have his way now that you had been pleased.
“Have you ever been fucked by a Prime?” A rehearsed, rigid sounding vocalization of laughter echoed across the room from him as he leaned down closer to you, shoving your thighs apart further with a servo. His other servo shifted up to clasp your jaw, thumb rubbing your lips as if to silence you, “Ah, don’t answer that. I’m pretty sure I know what you’ll say. What say we change that?”
“So that’s w-what this was about? You just wanted me here to spike me?” Your vocalizer was getting back into use after nearly shorting from your earlier noise, although that didn’t stop you from leaning on your elbow joints, bringing your helm up closer to Sentinel’s lowered one.
“Mm, it’s a convenient benefit of circumstance I would say.” The hum came from Sentinel in a far too satisfied tone as he leaned his broad frame across yours. The servo that had been on your face was now positioned to hold him up beside your helm, his other dipping down to take a hold of his spike as he aligned it to your valve. Such as your previous experience with the helm ache of a mech, Sentinel was far from asking permission as he groaned, teeth gritting against the feeling of your valve’s calipers squeezing down on the head of his spike. It didn’t take but another few moments for him to make the first rut into you, your body shifting back and forth with his motion as you sighed at the intrusion.
Despite your profession, it had been awhile since you had a spike in your valve. That was, especially when it came to such a spike that was now splitting you open further and further with each passing inch thrusting into you. The difference in frame sizes was nearly too much as you vented to try and steady yourself for the change in pressure. He almost bottomed out when you were sure he wasn’t going to fit, not that he was even paying attention as he panted over you. Keeping up a rocking rhythm, Sentinel repeatedly slamming with his hips against yours.
This wasn’t too bad, you thought, however you were already planning your next move in this primal game of chess that now took a hold of the both of you. Repositioning himself, Sentinel grabbed both of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as he leaned up, more rigidly straight this time. Already his fans were cycling heavily, thrusts becoming more shallow as he focused more on speed and friction than depth. He was getting closer that you imagined he would in such a span of time. It was surprising as you always imagined Primes had longer stamina than the average mech. Perhaps you would have to make him pay for this mildly lackluster performance.
He didn’t cry out so much as groan behind clenched teeth, helm thrown back akin to how he looked back at his booth in the club those days ago. Spreading your legs a little wider, you let his frame shove itself flush to yours as he held himself over you. His breaths came forth in deep clouds of steam, creating a thin layer of condensation on your chest plating. You could feel the warmth of his frame transfer to yours along with the sudden pulse of charge that sparked its way through your frame from where your valve enveloped his spike.
Just to get a reaction out of the Prime, you clenched your valve suddenly around his spike, causing him to moan aloud in a deep, reverberating vocalization that shook your frame.
“Now for my turn.” You hissed into his audials as you pulled his frame closer, legs sweeping off of his shoulders in a fluid motion. One of them moved to snag one of his own legs and shove him down to the side, causing him to topple below you as you now straddled the brilliantly blue mech. His optics widened in disbelief as his arms shot to his sides as if to steady his frame after such a disorienting change of pace.
He sneered, clearly uninterested in whatever you planned to propose next. “Your turn for what exactly?”
Shifting your hips up, his spike gliding out of you easily with the aid of your shared transfluids, you drew your hand over to your spike paneling, withdrawing it. Now it was time for your own preferred form of interfacing.
“Oh no- you cannot -“
“I can’t, what? Spike a Prime?” You were already stroking your spike, getting it lubricated and ready by working it with your servo that had just fingered your valve enough to get slick transfluid on it. “If anything I can after your little pump and dump show just now. Consider it emotional compensation for such a travesty as a Prime lasting half as long in the berth as most of my average clients.”
Subconsciously his face blued to an embarrassed hue. It clearly wasn’t often that anyone had (if anyone had ever at all) called him out on such a thing. Not waiting for an answer, you moved down to position yourself between his legs, hoisting his thighs up to encircle your hips. Smirking, you took the time to lean over him, giving a few faux grinds against him as you waited for your spike to pressurize fully as if to show him a preview of what was to come before stopping and contemplating something as you now saw his face. It was screwed up in a horribly annoyed sense of defiance to the act, optics squinting in absolute loathing as he glared at you.
Shifting back to give him some room, you shook your helm. “Oh now that won’t do. Get up and turn around. I want to see that aft up and your face shoved into that pillow. Double time.”
Sentinel hissed his displeasure as he still obeyed, getting up to move around, his helm and the front of his chassis being thrown into his sheets. His aft now thrusted up for you to grab his hips, his valve paneling shifting away.
“Primus, you’re insufferable…”
“Don’t worry, Sentinel. I’m just getting started.”
Moving your servos to his aft, you cupped the curve of its back as you slipped two of your digits down into his valve. The plushly cobalt lips were lined with thin running veins of gold, minor biolights of blue that matched his optics pulsating weakly as you moved several of your digits back and forth between their tight squeeze. As someone so prideful in himself, you figured out quickly that this must have been the first time in quite some time that anyone had the gall to even try spiking the Prime. As much as his initial reaction seemed in distaste over this, he wasn’t objecting in the slightest as you stroked his valve from the inside. A hitched vent escaped him as you found a specific node within his valve and petted it gently, your digit sliding against it easily with the fluids he was already producing.
“Comfortable?” You crooned, pushing your palm against his aft to drive your fingers deeper, adding an extra one for good measure. You got a deep rumble from his engines combined with a lethal sideways glance from one of his optics that peeked over his shoulder and elegantly wide wings.
You might have been enjoying this far too much, being a slight aft about rubbing this in his face, however you weren’t entirely a monster. You knew a valve this tight was a recipe for disaster even with a spike from a smaller frame such as yours. You took the time to finger his valve open further, coaxing his calipers to ease up slightly. To aid in this process you leaned down, licking up the sides of his valve to catch the excess transfluid which smeared past his lips over your tongue, sweet yet mildly bitter taste lingering on your oral sensory nodes. That move earned your first moan from him, his helm buried against a pillow, arms around his helm as he resisted in vain.
It wasn’t until you licked down lower, closer to his anterior node that your tongue swept against something cool and of a rigid metallic substance that was out of place in comparison to the soft mesh. An anterior node piercing. Ah, so this holy Prime did have his own little secrets hiding behind those modesty panels.
“Mm, you even have something for me to play with. How considerate.” You used the tip of your tongue to hook the percing’s thin gold ring, tugging it back towards yourself. Sentinel gave a muffled yelp into his pillow, pushing his hips further back to try and follow where you had just pulled him. As if to let him know he had obeyed well just as you wanted, you kissed his node softly, sucking on it for a few more moments to make sure his valve had produced enough lubricant.
Lining up your spike to his valve’s now fluttering lips, biolights ablaze with need, you pushed in just a few inches, enough to get your head in. He shifted uncomfortably, knees twitching inward which only earned a harsher grasp upon his hips from you.
You hummed a satisfied reply to his act, swaying your hips in a circular motion as if to make him even more aware of the length that was now going inside him. “Doesn’t that feel good? Maybe I can give you some more since you’re being so good for me.”
“Mmph!” It wasn’t even a legible response from the Prime whose helm was firmly buried in the pillow, but you took it anyway as you gave your first thrust forward.
You started at a slow pace, moving one servo down to pull occasionally, as if with an absent mind, on his node piercing, massaging the already swollen sensor node to enhance his sensation. Heavy vents into the pillow were growing louder as Sentinel’s knees weakened, legs widening apart between his own relaxation and your nudging of them apart.
Sentinel began shoving his hips into yours, clearly needing the deeper sensation of a spike generating friction in his valve. Obliging, you positioned one servo between his wings to grab his spinal strut steadfastly, your other moving to hold his hips up from the bottom as you pinched his node and piercing, giving it a harsh twist. The prime squirmed and whimpered, leg strength failing him as you could sense he was beginning to overheat. It was such a shame you were just beginning on him.
Pistoning your thrusts to a pace that rivaled the most animalistic of organic species, you began to lean over his frame, hardly able to reach the middle of his back yet driving into him all the same. The heat from his frame was making your spike deliciously warm as you felt the tug of his valve lips attempting to clench onto your length as you rocked into him violently.
Normally in interfacing you were far more caring and delicate with your lovers (or clients, it depended on the circumstances) however there was something freeing about getting to use someone you knew could take it and then some, especially someone who deserved it.
There was something special about getting to fuck Sentinel so hard he wasn’t able to even try to make sentences, the only thing escaping from his mouth being louder and louder vocalizations and an exorbitant amount of oral lubricant which smeared messily upon his pillow. His wings flicked out as you gave another pull to his node piercing, keeping it extended out this time. A long, deep whine sounded from him as you knew he was getting closer.
“I suppose I should- fuck- I should surprise you with something. I do really appreciate the node ring. I-it’s such a fun way to turn you into the spike slut you are. T-that’s what you really like, huh? To get spiked down the way you deserve. Oh and you are s-such a bad mech aren’t you? Perhaps I should make this punishment a regular occurance. A nice way to wind down a-after- oh fuck.” Your string of degradations was cut off as you felt your sensors grow burning hot, fans near overwhelming in their attempts to cool your frame. “F-fuck, your tight valve is going to look so good with my transfluid inside it. I might- might just have to take a photo of it for good measure. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I plastered this beat up valve, drenched in my fluid, all over the broadcast network.”
Sentinel moaned loudly, likely in protest of that, but alas his vocalizer was glitching on and off, making him a pathetic, whiny victim of his own circumstances. Smiling, so akin to how he did when you first laid optics on him in the booth at the club, you whispered, “Primus, I can just imagine all the mechs from everywhere wanting to line up just to get their own turn. And you- you know what?”
You leaned down further to finish your statement, front fully pressed down into Sentinel’s aft and back as you hissed, “I think you’d let them. Just. Like. You’re. Doing. For. Me.”
A half confused, half aroused groan sounded from Sentinel as he felt your spike modification enacting. Your spike began to swell in size, pushing tightly against his valve walls, causing his calipers to seize. At the base of your spike, a knot continued to grow, teetering on the edge of his valve’s mesh, halfway in and out as you stretched him to his limit and then some.
A wail sounded from him as he shoved his hips into you, without thinking, as your knot slipped the rest of the way into his valve, relieving the pressure of having the knot pass into him. He panted in relief and exhaustion from your use, legs shaking as his frame slumped further into the pillow. At the same time, his valve began to clench down as if to instinctively milk your spike for everything it had as you came, voicing your own moan behind gritted teeth. Hot fluid bubbled out past his valve lips as you continued a shallow rock into him, restrained by your knot that was now inside of him and tugged against his calipers with every thrust. Emptying yourself into a Prime sure felt better than vice versa as what occurred earlier.
Despite his rebellious initial expression and commentary, Sentinel now seemed fully satisfied as he vented deeply and hummed out noises that escaped him quietly.
“See how much better it is when you just give me your valve to do whatever I want with?”
“A- a- aaa-”
“Give yourself a minute. You’ve gone and got yourself overheated. Reboot your vocalizer.”
“I-“ The Prime’s fist pounded furiously on the berth, as if having a sparkling’s tantrum at that statement and his own impatience at getting his vocalizer to straighten out. “I know! Primus, t-th-this isn’t m-my first time.”
You used your servo below him to trace gentle circles around his node. “I can tell. I can also tell something else.”
“That I’m going t-to kill Airachnid for suggesting this as a way to get even from what I did in the club?”
You laughed, lazily swaying your hips forward into him as your knot tugged at his calipers still. “Possibly that. More so that you’ve enjoyed yourself.”
“Silence your-”
You sighed, not wanting to hear this lecture that no doubt would hold a creative series of threats which you already knew wouldn’t phase you in the slightest. “So we’re even?”
“Even.” Sentinel huffed, finally getting back enough strength to twist his legs around and position himself to lay on his back without pulling your knot out. “Where did you even get that Mod anyway? I thought they didn’t make those after the war started and I know damn well they don’t just hand them out to cogless mechs like yourself…”
Humming at how good his valve felt around your thickened spike, you settled against his chest, giving a nip to his neck cabling.
“We all have our little secrets. How about we make this a recurring one?”
The pout of Sentinel’s lips gave way to a no, however that glimmer in his optics and the way his calipers fluttered around your spike’s knot said quite the opposite. It seemed then that this wouldn’t be the last time you would have an up close and personal encounter with the Prime himself.