Laylah (laylah) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2007-09-09 19:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | a: laylah, f: transformers, p: mikaela/ratchet, september 09 |
"A Form of Recreation" (Transformers, Ratchet/Mikaela)
Title: A Form of Recreation
Author: Laylah
Fandom: Transformers (movieverse)
Pairing: Ratchet/Mikaela
Rating: PG-13 for suggestions of mech/human hijinks
Word count: 745
Prompt: undressing in public - "doctor's orders"
Mikaela downshifts as they come back into the city, and she can feel how smoothly Ratchet's gears work. It's kind of awesome, how well they all perform. Not to mention how easily they'll let her do this -- most of her stupid boyfriends didn't let her drive their cars, but the 'bots don't seem to think twice about her driving them.
The radio clicks back on -- she turned it off a while ago so she could hear his engine better -- and Ratchet says, "You are thinking of Sam?"
"What?" Mikaela says, because really, he was the last thing on her mind.
"Your pheromone levels are elevated," Ratchet says matter-of-factly.
Mikaela blushes. "Oh," she says. "No, ah. I wasn't really." She could leave it there. She doesn't have to volunteer information. She squirms in the front seat, leather creaking under her. "Actually, I was. Ah. Thinking about how it feels to drive you guys."
For a minute there's just the purr of Ratchet's engine, and the little staticky hiss of radio silence. "That doesn't make sense," he points out eventually. "You could scarcely mate with one of us. To say we are not compatible life forms is an understatement."
She sort of can't help but laugh. "No, I, ah, I guess we're not, huh?" They pull to a stop at a red light. Are they really having this conversation? "You know, um, humans mess around a lot without any intention of 'mating,' too. It's not like we're trying to have babies every time."
"I see," Ratchet says. The light turns, and he accelerates smoothly. She's barely keeping a hand on the wheel at this point; he seems to have some idea where he wants to go. "Then it's a form of recreation?"
"Yeah," Mikaela says. This is both really weird, and way less weird than she'd have thought it would be. Really, it's probably just that the basic situation -- driving around in a sentient alien robot -- is weird enough that talking about sex with him isn't that much weirder.
Ratchet hums. "Thank you. We were able to find a wide variety of examples of human sexual behavior on the internet, but far less explanation of context."
"What, on porn sites? Yeah, I bet you didn't." Mikaela chews on her lip, thinks about leaving well enough alone, decides she might as well ask -- he's sure not embarrassed about it, is he? "Do you guys have anything like that?" She's trying to imagine giant alien robots having sex, she realizes.
"We interface with each other for pleasure, yes," Ratchet says. "And to reinforce bonds between two mechs."
That still sounds a little more wholesome than some of the messing around Mikaela's done, honestly, but she doesn't say so. "See? So it's not that different," she says instead.
Ratchet turns down the main drag, comfortable cruising speed, and Mikaela's not even trying to direct him anymore. His steering wheel slides under her hands. "And you are interested in interfacing with us this way?"
"It does sound kind of silly, doesn't it?" She shifts in her seat. The leather is soft against her thighs.
"It would require some adaptability," Ratchet says. "But I believe that is a characteristic common to both our people." He sounds...amused? Pleased? Like he's up for a challenge, Mikaela decides. And then he says, "Show me what pleases you."
Mikaela raises an eyebrow. "What, now? On the road, driving through town?" Okay, it's true that they don't really have many chances for privacy, and it's not like she can invite him up to her room, or something, the way she would with a boy, but still --
"If you would."
This is crazy, Mikaela thinks. There are all kinds of reasons she shouldn't. "You know I totally can't manage to drive and show you at the same time, yeah?" She unbuckles her seatbelt.
Ratchet's laughter sounds tinny through the radio. "Don't worry. I will keep us out of trouble."
"Make sure you do," Mikaela says. She slides out of the driver's seat and across the cab, careful not to bump his gearshift on the way. "I'd hate to have to explain this to a cop, you know?"
"You could say," Ratchet suggests dryly, "that you are following a doctor's orders."
Mikaela laughs, as she unbuttons her shorts. She's been laughing a lot more than she used to, lately. "I'll keep that in mind," she says. "Don't get us pulled over anyway."