Seducer's Seduction | By : bittereloquence Category: Comics > Transformers (IDW) > Transformers (IDW) Views: 1328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Written for Casus, because her love of this fucked up commander/second pairing totally infected me and I'm now in love too!
You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.
--Rolling Stones
Prowl had heard plenty of rumors during his relatively short stint as aide-de-camp to Sentinel Prime. There was no denying the mech's courage or abilities to perform his duties. Many whispered he was as great as Prime as his predecessor Nova Prime but there were still rumors. His strong personality and lack of empathy had earned him plenty of enemies. And they liked to whisper.
Wasn't it interesting that once again, Sentinel had chosen a graceful, racing type instead of a warrior who could assist him in battle? What other duties did this smaller mech perform that went beyond the confines of duty? Prowl had heard them all. Had heard plenty of rumors about the position the previous aid-de-camp had held and what his special relationship with Sentinel had entailed.
If not for a lucky sniper's shot, that mech, not Prowl, would be here right now. Fate or Primus had not been with that mech that particular day and Sentinel found himself having to break in a new assistant. Sure, Prowl was smart, quick to learn and adapt, but he wasn't Piston. It had taken Sentinel almost half a vorn before he'd managed to mold Piston into the aide he could stand so the Prime really hadn’t looked forward to having to break in a new assistant.
"Sir? I brought those requisition forms you asked for," Prowl murmured as he slipped into the office.
Sentinel didn't even bother looking up from the reports he was working on. "Just put them down on the desk, Prowl."
"....is there...anything else I can do, sir?" the younger mech asked hesitantly. "I know I've only been here a few deca-cycles but I don't feel like you've been using me to my full potential. I'm a quick learner, sir. I wish you would let me take over more of the workload for you."
That got Sentinel's attention. It was the closest he'd ever gotten to a protest out of the young tactician and the Prime finally looked up to stare at his aide for a long moment. "You're doing fine, Prowl, it takes a while to make this kind of transition."
"But I can be doing more, sir. Is it because you don't trust me to complete the same duties Piston did? I know I'm not him but I am just as capable-"
"It's not that," the large mech interrupted abruptly.
"Then what is it, sir?" Prowl asked a trifle stiffly, doors arching slightly and pinning back with agitation.
"You're just not….." There was an uncharacteristic hint of hesitance in Sentinel's voice.
"….him. I'm not him. That's what you're saying, correct?"
The Prime looked up again; his optics sober and inscrutable but Prowl had his answer all the same. Oddly enough, it hurt … and pissed him off. It was not a combination Prowl was used to experiencing.
"I could be him."
"It doesn't work that way, Prowl. Besides, it takes time to build a rapport, to hammer out a working relationship."
"But Piston was more…wasn't he?"
Sentinel's hands tightened around the data-pad hard enough to make it creak. "I'd be very careful about what rumors you listen to and what you choose to repeat, especially in my presence," he growled menacingly.
"I am, sir." To give Prowl credit, he met his superior's angry optics unflinchingly. "I know the two of you were lovers and—"
"Heh, the fact that you think we were lovers betrays just how young you are, Prowl," Sentinel scoffed quietly.
"Fine, you were using one another for mutual satisfaction," Prowl stated stiffly. "Semantics aside, I know what he meant to you."
"We sometimes shared a berth. That's it. He was my subordinate and I was his superior. Don't make more out of it than was there."
"I could do that too."
Sentinel had been expecting many things out of this conversation. He knew how controversial his relationship with his subordinate had been. There were plenty of nasty rumors and unflattering gossip going around and the Prime had been preparing himself for the time when Prowl confronted him about it.
He had not, however, been prepared for this.
"Excuse me?" the larger mech asked carefully.
"You used one another for mutual satisfaction. With Piston gone, you have one less avenue in which to explore such things. Both of us are adults, we have no interest in a committed relationship. It's obvious you have no compunction about interfacing with a direct subordinate and I am a logical choice considering I am discreet, close at hand and willing."
"…..you have no idea what you're offering." A thread of anger worked its way through Sentinel's voice.
"Of course I do. I am a logical and analytical thinker. I know exactly what I'm offering and what I want," Prowl continued without a flicker of an optic. "I am attracted and this would be easier and more convenient than other mechs on base. I wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to exploit me for security measures and there is less risk of anyone trying to manipulate me or my position as your head aide."
"It doesn't work that way, Prowl. Besides, I'm not interested in dabbling amongst my subordinates." The other mech stood now, tossing his data-pad down with a clatter.
"You're lying," Prowl murmured, moving closer with a definite sway in his gait that hadn't been there before. "If you weren't interested, you would have ordered me out already." He was close enough to touch now, was invading Sentinel's personal space and the Prime found himself giving ground as he fell back half a step.
"You don't know me; don't know what you're asking for."
"Then prove me wrong, sir, tell me to stop," Prowl whispered, stepping ever closer until his chest brushed against Sentinel's. That touch shook the Prime out of his reverie and he shuddered as harsh optics sharpened in a disapproving look.
"Do you try and seduce all of your commanding officers? I never heard any complaints out of Ultra Magnus while you were under him."
Prowl merely raised an optic ridge. "You wouldn't have, would you?" Belatedly, Sentinel realized how wrong his words could be interpreted. "But for your information, I never tried to seduce Ultra Magnus or any of my other commanding officers."
"And you expect me to believe that?" came that scathing question.
“Whether or not you choose to believe or disbelieve me is your choice. Nothing I said will change your mind on the subject.” Shrugging nonchalantly, Prowl pressed closer still, as he stretched up to bring his face closer to Sentinel's "Now, do you have anymore unconvincing arguments or are you going to finally kiss me, sir?" And with that, it was Prowl that pulled his superior down into a heated kiss.
This was unlike anything Sentinel had ever experienced in a subordinate. It had been him who had pursued Piston, had convinced the mech to engage in a more personal relationship. Sure, other mechs had tried to seduce him in the past but never quite like this! The larger mech didn't know what to think of this and that unnerved uncertainty was what spurred him into motion.
With a growl, Sentinel suddenly pushed Prowl back, forcing the other mech against his desk as he followed him. There was an angry, almost feral look on his faceplates as he studied his aide.
Prowl ended up bracing his hands behind him and leaning against Sentinel's desk, meeting those dark optics with a challenging light in his own. That was all it took. With a growl, he stooped down and captured Prowl's lips in a harsh kiss. Large hands brusquely moved across the smaller mech's chassis, seeking out places to rest and sensitive spots to stimulate roughly. Normally, Sentinel didn't allow himself to be so rough with a lover, especially one whom he'd never touched before. Something in Prowl's challenging attitude, in his forwardness, evoked a more feral part of Sentinel's programming and the larger mech pressed his aide down onto the desk in an attempt to gain full control over the situation.
The tactician found himself having to carefully angle his body so that Sentinel didn't crush his doors beneath him. He finally ended up pushing himself across the desk and resting his weight on his elbows so his doors dangled over the edge. Sentinel's once neat piles of datapads were scattered and clattered carelessly to the ground.
Neither mech paid much attention to the noise however. Sentinel was too busy exploring his aide's body while the fierce kiss continued. With his arms all but pinned at his side, Prowl found himself at a disadvantage and could not return the favor, especially with his superior's weight pressing down on him. Prowl groaned into the kiss and hissed when Sentinel nipped at his lower lip component hard enough to mark the metal.
"Mn...sir, wait," he finally had to try and moan between kisses.
Sentinel pulled back slightly and regarded his subordinate with dark, impassioned optics. "What is it?" he grated out, voice harsh and rough.
"Doors," Prowl gasped, squirming lightly beneath Sentinel's weight. "Can't lay on them like this, I'll damage them."
His superior nodded curtly and pushed away, pulling Prowl with him until the other mech was standing, albeit a little shakily. "Fine, I won't pin your doors," he purred with a devious look. Prowl only had a moment to wonder about that before he found himself being forced to turn around to face the desk. Sentinel's arms wrapped around him from behind, drawing him close to the larger mech as he fit himself between the tactician's splayed doors.
Prowl moaned as metal rubbed against those sensitive appendages and he arched back into Sentinel with a shudder. This garnered him a pleased chuckle from the taller mech as Sentinel began to nip and nibble at the lines and tension coils of the tactician's neck. "They're sensitive, interesting," he murmured into Prowl's audio.
Large hands began to explore Prowl's torso, mapping out where the younger mech's hot spots were; which places made him shudder and moan. This was torturously frustrating for Prowl because once again, he was forced to stand there unable to touch as he held himself up. In this position, he couldn't even kiss Sentinel or do anything but let himself be molested.
The tactician had always been the one in control of interfacing, had always been the aggressor so this was a strange and unsettling position to be in. If he didn't know better, Prowl would swear Sentinel was doing it on purpose.
A frustrated sound escaped his vocalizer, coming out like a stifled moan when Sentinel's fingers worked their way along the transformation pivot at his waist. "Sir! Please, mngh...."
"What is it, Prowl? I thought this was what you wanted," the Prime growled against his subordinate's audio.
"But....oh!" His protest was cut off by a startled cry as pleasure spiked through his system. "Primus....," Prowl groaned huskily, head falling forward limply. Shudders ran through his chassis, leaving him feeling weak at the knees.
Just when Prowl didn't think he could loose any more control of the situation, the chime at Sentinel's office door sounded and the tactician jumped.
"Sir?" a voice came from the other side of the door.
"The door isn't locked," Sentinel chuckled darkly against the nap of Prowl's neck. "Should I invite them in?"
"What?! No!" Prowl yelped; trying to keep his voice muffled.
"What is it?" Sentinel barked loud enough to be heard through the door. "I'm busy,"
With a grin, he nipped along the line of Prowl's jaw. "You do of course realize that this will get out eventually, don't you? Rumors will start to circulate, are you sure you're up for this, Prowl?" he asked, sotto voce, as one hand stroked the edge of Prowl's wing.
The younger mech bit down sharply on his lower lip component to keep from moaning out loud.
"Err...," the other Autobot muttered.
"Prowl and I are looking over the latest surveillance maps and plotting out the local terrain for our next strike. Whatever it is, it can wait," the Prime ordered loud enough to be heard again. He tried to get another sound out of his aide by continuing to stroke and rub against the mech's sensitive doors while his other hand explored the transformation seam along his waist.
"Yes sir!"
"What are you going to do when they find out, Prowl?" he continued to taunt quietly. "Can you handle the sideways glances? The knowing looks and snickers behind your back? The rumors that the only reason you're here is because you're a better berthmate than an aide?" Still those large hands continued to stroke and stimulate his wings and the transformation seam.
The younger mech groaned hoarsely against his will as cooling fans kicked on to try and cool down his overheating systems. Prowl despaired at the utter unfairness of the situation. Sentinel was playing his chassis like a toy and he was helpless to do anything in return. And the unholy slagger was doing it on purpose! To make matters worse, the young tactician found a deviant part of his programming was enjoying this callous, domineering treatment immensely and Prowl didn't know what to make of that.
For the first time in his life, the younger mech found he had come up against a stronger personality, a mech who was more dominating and self-assured than himself and he didn't know where he stood. Being submissive was not part of Prowl's personality components, or so he'd thought up till now. Thanks to Sentinel, he was beginning to question a very intrinsic and large part of identity and self-image.
"Please, sir!" he found himself begging, much to his personal disgust. The ever increasing growl of his engine betrayed him and the young aide found himself teetering on the edge of overload.
"Please what?" Sentinel growled moments before biting down on the cabling at the edge of Prowl's helmet sharp enough to leave impressions on the cables. He was ostensibly marking Prowl and that small flash of pain was all it took to send the tactician's already overtaxed systems into red-line.
A ragged moan was torn from Prowl and his fingers tightened on the edge of the desk hard enough to dent the metal slightly before all strength left him and he fell forward. The tactician would have smacked chin-first on the desk if Sentinel's arm hadn't tightened around him, holding the suddenly limp mech up.
Prowl missed the way Sentinel's optics darkened though he could only dimly register the faint shudder that ran through his commander's chassis before he was lowered carefully across the desk.
"Heh, like I said, Prowl. I don't think you're ready for me. And you have a lot to learn about seducing a superior officer if that was your best attempt," Sentinel murmured, freeing himself from the weakened tactician and standing straight once more. "I need to go figure out what that idiot needed. Clean up the mess you made then you're dismissed for the rest of the day."
Intakes raggedly dragging in air and the whirl of his cooling fans almost drowned out Sentinel's words but Prowl heard them all the same. They burned all the way down to his spark and his fingers balled into fists as he pushed himself up onto his elbows.
".....yes, sir," he whispered, voice shaking just a bit.
Sentinel never even bothered to wait for his response as he walked out the door, leaving his frustrated and humiliated aide to clean up the scattered datapads and try to pick up the tatters of his pride before he had to face the outside world again.
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