03 – Daydreams
Sometimes, Wheeljack thinks about Prowl when he self-services, and he finds himself overloading, with a mixture of shame and yearning throbbing through his spark.
He thinks about Prowl’s face, before and after overload. The way he looks at Ratchet with so much trust and love, it’s as if his spark is going to burst.
He thinks of Prowl’s bumper. Of his aft. Of the jut of his doorwings and how they shiver right before overload. Or the way he melts at a single look from Ratchet, and how soft and open he is around Ratchet, and that gentle smile he gives Ratchet when he thinks no one is looking.
Those things clash with Wheeljack’s other image of Prowl. The one who is firm and stern, who can give orders on the battlefield, or quiet a room just by walking into it. The almost shy Prowl who hides himself in his office.
But clash or not, it doesn’t stop Wheeljack from whimpering into the berth, his fingers wrapped around his spike or shoved deep in his valve.
It feels kind of like a betrayal, servicing to the thoughts of his best friend’s serious partner, probably mate. Not like he’d ever touch Prowl without either of their permission, or that he even wants to keep Prowl for himself. He just likes thinking about it. Imagining it. Pretending, even, sometimes.
Prowl’s amazing, and Ratchet’s so very lucky.
Wheeljack groans and throws a pillow over his face. Two overloads and he’s still so firm, his spike is aching.
He sighs and activates his comm.
He really, really hopes Ironhide isn’t on shift right now. Because clearly, this is a problem best suited for two.