FIC: Conversations
May. 8th, 2011 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keelywolfeTitle: Conversations
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Tracks/Raoul (holoforms)
Summary: Originally written for the TF: Kink Meme. The request was here and asked for Tracks/Raoul, holosex, and some language kink. This, I can do.
Note: So, yeah, Tracks cracks me up as a character because I really do think he sounds like the guy from Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Here is a short video of Raoul and Tracks first meeting. Just reposting here because I like all my stories to be in one place. My apologies for the rough Spanish, there was only so much I could ask from my Latino brother-in-law and still be able to sit next to him at dinner. He was already quite amused by a few of my questions as it was. ;)
~~*~~
"Hey, who's your new friend?" Raoul asked, not quite snide, as Tracks pulled up next to him. Not that he cared. Tracks had asked to meet him, after all, and if Raoul had been standing on the corner waiting for fifteen minutes while Tracks snagged another human, he wasn't going to bitch about it.
"Raoul, it's me," the human said as he leaned out the open window. Only he said it in Tracks' voice, blue eyes shining with cool humor. "Holograms, remember? I'm sure we spoke about it."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I remember," Raoul said slowly. "I heard about these things."
"Of course you've heard about these things. I told you," Tracks said with arrogant coolness. "I spent a great deal of time on it, but I think you'll agree that it was time well spent."
"Guess so," Raoul eyed the pseudo-human warily. To be honest, he was just about as pretty as a girl, smooth cheeks and wide blue eyes, long black hair trailing past his shoulders. No surprise there, Tracks would be pretty no matter what his form.
The passenger door swung open invitingly but for the first time since he'd met Tracks, Raoul found himself reluctant to get in. This whole thing reeked of fucking weirdness, man. Tracks asking to meet him after work and not telling him why, showing up with a shiny new pretend driver. The sun was already vanishing for the day so where exactly did Tracks want to take him after dark?
"You usually let me sit behind the wheel," Raoul complained, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"Come now, it's not like you were ever driving."
Yeah, like he didn't know that. Weird upon weird, but Tracks was his friend. Wasn't like Raoul didn't trust him. Muttering curses under his breath, Raoul finally slung himself into the passenger seat. He didn't even get the satisfaction of slamming the door as it swung shut behind him. The seatbelt snaking around him made him sigh impatiently, but he didn't protest. Tracks was worse than an old abuela when it came to Raoul's safety.
With a soft rev of his engine, Tracks pulled away from the curb and soon enough they were on the highway, miles melting away beneath his tires as Raoul sat in silence.
Every once in a while, he glanced at the guy sitting in the driver's seat. Not a guy, the hologram, that thing that was in his seat. Raoul couldn't help it. Tracks had long damn hair, down to his ass, probably, and he really was weirdly fucking pretty. He'd said he'd spent a lot of time working on it. Without really thinking about it, Raoul reached out tentatively, half-expecting his hand to go right through. He squealed like a girl when Tracks snapped at his hand like a bad tempered Chihuahua, the fake human giggling as Raoul scrambled back against the passenger door.
"A little jumpy today, are we?" Tracks asked, amused.
"Hijo de puta," Raul muttered, slumping into the passenger seat.
"I cannot be a bastard, Raoul, as I have no parents. Therefore, my mother cannot be a whore." Somehow, that stuffy, snotty tone was so different coming from a human form. The cheeky grin cut away that whole Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous vibe that Tracks had going for him.
Oh, he wanted to play? Raoul could play and his next burst of Spanish was a lot louder and a lot more inventive. Even if Tracks could get into the position Raoul suggested without bending major portions of his frame, it would probably take Ratchet and Wheeljack the better part of a week to get him back out of it. By the time Raoul was finished, tossing in a few insults about Tracks' last paint job obvious being done by a syphilitic blind man for good measure, the hologram next to him was howling with undignified laughter. Tracks was even swerving a little on the road and something about seeing his normally pompous friend so relaxed made Raoul grin ruefully along with him.
"All right, we got that out of the way. Now, where we going?" Raoul finally asked.
To his bemusement, Tracks seemed to lose whatever had tickled his sense of humor. His smile faded, his eyes going distant at he gazed at the road where his headlights were cutting through the dark.
"Somewhere," he said vaguely, then shook his head. "No, I believe nowhere would be a better choice."
"Nowhere? Not making much sense," Raoul shifted uncomfortably and to his surprise, the seatbelt around him tightened, almost to the point of pain.
Worse, the hologram completely released his own seatbelt and turned to face Raoul, not even pretending to drive.
"Road…!" Raoul sputtered.
"It's dark enough that no one can see," Tracks' hologram dismissed it with a flamboyant wave of his hand. He sat there for a long moment, staring at Raoul in silence, until the human was all but squirming in discomfort. What the fuck was going on here?
Just as he was about to tell Tracks it was time to pull over, he finally spoke, his tone oddly soft and solemn. "Raoul, it's very important to me that if you remember nothing else, you remember this. Many, many of my friends are dead, have been dying all around me in a war that has raged longer than I care to consider—"
Suddenly, his mouth felt very dry. Raoul swallowed hard, heard the dry click in his throat before he croaked out, "Tracks…"
Instantly, a finger was laid against his lips and it felt all-too-real, warm as living flesh. "Shh, let me finish. I spent a long time perfecting this form and a much longer time considering what I was planning on doing with it. I'm well aware that I am risking my friendship with you by doing this."
Doing what? Raoul thought wildly. The flicker of headlights from passing cars gave him surreal flickers of Track's face as it leaned in towards his own. Frantically, he grabbed at Tracks' shoulders, trying to hold him back but he would have had better luck trying to push a brick wall. Soft lips brushed his own, the damp pressure of a tongue wriggling coaxingly against the seam of his lips.
"I'm risking everything," Tracks murmured, and Raoul couldn't help but notice his breath, warm and damp, like something real. He tried to convince himself it wasn't real, it wasn't. The seat beneath him was real, the hum of the tires on the road. The obnoxiously arrogant alien robot he called friend, strange as that was, that was real.
The mouth against his own was some kind of trick of light, some alien technology that might as well be magic for all Raoul understood it. It wasn't real but it didn't stop Raoul from hesitantly parting his own lips, from hearing Tracks groan in relief as he pushed his tongue inside. Wet, the slick arrogance of a tongue that didn’t just lick at his own but invaded his mouth and took. Tracks kissed him like he owned Raoul's mouth, like he could spend hours just kissing him, rubbing those too-smooth cheeks against Raoul's stubbled ones.
Shit, what had he been doing wrong all his life that no one had thought to kiss him like that before.
It didn't register until much too late that Tracks had slithered over the center console and into his lap, their mouths still hot against each other. Sharp teeth bit Raoul's lip until he yelped but even that wasn't enough to make him pull away. Not when a gentle tongue soothed that bite, then immediately followed it with another, sharp nips that made a trail down Raoul's jaw to his ear. That slick tongue caught on the silver hoop it found there, teeth clicking against the metal as Tracks panted words against his ear.
"I've wanted this for some time," Tracks shuddered, his hands moving busily down Raoul's chest, tugging at the t-shirt.
"You have?" Raoul managed, his voice embarrassingly dazed but fuck, he dared anyone to have someone like Tracks squirming in his lap without getting hard.
Speaking of hard…Tracks seemed to be abandoning his shirt and attacked the fly of his pants instead and, holy shit, there was no way a human would be able to move like that, squirming down into the footwell and nuzzling at Raoul's belly. That was a sure sign that whatever this was, it wasn't real, no human would fit down there along with Raoul's booted feet but it didn't seem to matter quite as much when Tracks got his pants open, tugging his hard cock out with gentle hands.
For the first time, he seemed uncertain, large blue eyes looking up at Raoul. He could see them in the flashes of the streetlights, wide eyes and pink, parted lips so close to the head of his cock that Raoul groaned, his hips straining up against the confines of the seatbelt.
"C'mon, don't tease," Raoul slurred out, watched as Track's tongue slid out from between those pretty lips, licked hesitantly at the clear bead of fluid at the tip of Raul's dick.
"Dios mio," Raoul whispered, tangling his hands into that long, dark hair. He had to resist the urge to tug that head down and just push into that sweet, dark mouth but he didn't have to wait long. Whatever confidence Tracks had lost he seemed to have regain, his tongue moving in wicked, slippery little ways as he wrapped the slick heat of his mouth around Raoul's cock. Hot, sweet suction surrounded him and Raoul's knees jerked up, his legs jittering helplessly and, oh, sweet—
"Dios mio, Dios, ay, Dios, ayudame," Raoul babbled. Begging for God to help him, as if the Lord and Savior could spare any of His time on something like this.
"Mmm, talking. I like that," Tracks mumbled, grazing his teeth against Raoul as he pulled up, swollen lips curving into a smirk. "Talk more."
"What…what do you want me to say?"
"Why not swear for me? I've always believed one should stick with their talents." And before Raoul could even grasp that he might have been insulted, Tracks had taken him in again, the sultry heat of his mouth surrounding Raoul's cock even as he licked away the glossy slickness welling again at the tip with a quick flicker of tongue.
"Pendejo!" Raoul gasped out and this time he didn't resist the urge to jerk Track's down by that cool, soft tangle of hair in his fists, arching up as much as he could against the pressure of the seatbelt. Tracks obligingly took him deeper, let Raoul guide him as he jerked up, trying to get in deeper, watching the hot length of his dick disappearing between those swollen lips.
"Más rápido, más rápido, por favor, más duro, por favor," Raoul was practically sobbing now. He could feel sweat rolling down his face, his clothes clinging to him stickily, and Tracks' mouth was moving lovingly up and down, the wet sounds loud in the confined space. It felt like his orgasm began in his spine, thundering sensation that slammed into his balls and brain with equal force and his sudden shout echoed in his own ears. He'd never felt anything like this before, Tracks swallowing him in deep and his cries took on an edge of almost pain, wondering dizzily if he could survive the pleasure wracking through him before finally, finally it eased, Tracks' mouth suddenly gentle as he pulled away, pressing tender kisses against Raoul's softening dick before he slithered back up into Raoul's lap and shifted those kisses back to his mouth, sharing the slick taste of himself.
"Jesus," Raoul said, his voice a rough quaver. Dimly, he realized at some point they had pulled over, could hear the faint ticking of Tracks' engine as it cooled. It seemed a lot less important than biting at Tracks lips, wondering a little wildly if Tracks would let him up enough to get into the back seat.
"Not precisely my name, but if you wish to worship me, who am I to protest?" Tracks murmured.
"Come here, and I'll show you worship," Raoul said, softly. He nuzzled Tracks' smooth cheek, pressing hot kisses against the soft shell of his ear as he breathed, "Eres hermoso."
"Of course I'm beautiful," Tracks gasped out, blue eyes fluttering closed. "You've always been an expert at stating the obv—" Raoul cut him off with another kiss.
Tracks might like to hear him talk but Raoul preferred his friend to shut up, for a little while.
-end-
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers: G1
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Tracks/Raoul (holoforms)
Summary: Originally written for the TF: Kink Meme. The request was here and asked for Tracks/Raoul, holosex, and some language kink. This, I can do.
Note: So, yeah, Tracks cracks me up as a character because I really do think he sounds like the guy from Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Here is a short video of Raoul and Tracks first meeting. Just reposting here because I like all my stories to be in one place. My apologies for the rough Spanish, there was only so much I could ask from my Latino brother-in-law and still be able to sit next to him at dinner. He was already quite amused by a few of my questions as it was. ;)
~~*~~
"Hey, who's your new friend?" Raoul asked, not quite snide, as Tracks pulled up next to him. Not that he cared. Tracks had asked to meet him, after all, and if Raoul had been standing on the corner waiting for fifteen minutes while Tracks snagged another human, he wasn't going to bitch about it.
"Raoul, it's me," the human said as he leaned out the open window. Only he said it in Tracks' voice, blue eyes shining with cool humor. "Holograms, remember? I'm sure we spoke about it."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I remember," Raoul said slowly. "I heard about these things."
"Of course you've heard about these things. I told you," Tracks said with arrogant coolness. "I spent a great deal of time on it, but I think you'll agree that it was time well spent."
"Guess so," Raoul eyed the pseudo-human warily. To be honest, he was just about as pretty as a girl, smooth cheeks and wide blue eyes, long black hair trailing past his shoulders. No surprise there, Tracks would be pretty no matter what his form.
The passenger door swung open invitingly but for the first time since he'd met Tracks, Raoul found himself reluctant to get in. This whole thing reeked of fucking weirdness, man. Tracks asking to meet him after work and not telling him why, showing up with a shiny new pretend driver. The sun was already vanishing for the day so where exactly did Tracks want to take him after dark?
"You usually let me sit behind the wheel," Raoul complained, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"Come now, it's not like you were ever driving."
Yeah, like he didn't know that. Weird upon weird, but Tracks was his friend. Wasn't like Raoul didn't trust him. Muttering curses under his breath, Raoul finally slung himself into the passenger seat. He didn't even get the satisfaction of slamming the door as it swung shut behind him. The seatbelt snaking around him made him sigh impatiently, but he didn't protest. Tracks was worse than an old abuela when it came to Raoul's safety.
With a soft rev of his engine, Tracks pulled away from the curb and soon enough they were on the highway, miles melting away beneath his tires as Raoul sat in silence.
Every once in a while, he glanced at the guy sitting in the driver's seat. Not a guy, the hologram, that thing that was in his seat. Raoul couldn't help it. Tracks had long damn hair, down to his ass, probably, and he really was weirdly fucking pretty. He'd said he'd spent a lot of time working on it. Without really thinking about it, Raoul reached out tentatively, half-expecting his hand to go right through. He squealed like a girl when Tracks snapped at his hand like a bad tempered Chihuahua, the fake human giggling as Raoul scrambled back against the passenger door.
"A little jumpy today, are we?" Tracks asked, amused.
"Hijo de puta," Raul muttered, slumping into the passenger seat.
"I cannot be a bastard, Raoul, as I have no parents. Therefore, my mother cannot be a whore." Somehow, that stuffy, snotty tone was so different coming from a human form. The cheeky grin cut away that whole Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous vibe that Tracks had going for him.
Oh, he wanted to play? Raoul could play and his next burst of Spanish was a lot louder and a lot more inventive. Even if Tracks could get into the position Raoul suggested without bending major portions of his frame, it would probably take Ratchet and Wheeljack the better part of a week to get him back out of it. By the time Raoul was finished, tossing in a few insults about Tracks' last paint job obvious being done by a syphilitic blind man for good measure, the hologram next to him was howling with undignified laughter. Tracks was even swerving a little on the road and something about seeing his normally pompous friend so relaxed made Raoul grin ruefully along with him.
"All right, we got that out of the way. Now, where we going?" Raoul finally asked.
To his bemusement, Tracks seemed to lose whatever had tickled his sense of humor. His smile faded, his eyes going distant at he gazed at the road where his headlights were cutting through the dark.
"Somewhere," he said vaguely, then shook his head. "No, I believe nowhere would be a better choice."
"Nowhere? Not making much sense," Raoul shifted uncomfortably and to his surprise, the seatbelt around him tightened, almost to the point of pain.
Worse, the hologram completely released his own seatbelt and turned to face Raoul, not even pretending to drive.
"Road…!" Raoul sputtered.
"It's dark enough that no one can see," Tracks' hologram dismissed it with a flamboyant wave of his hand. He sat there for a long moment, staring at Raoul in silence, until the human was all but squirming in discomfort. What the fuck was going on here?
Just as he was about to tell Tracks it was time to pull over, he finally spoke, his tone oddly soft and solemn. "Raoul, it's very important to me that if you remember nothing else, you remember this. Many, many of my friends are dead, have been dying all around me in a war that has raged longer than I care to consider—"
Suddenly, his mouth felt very dry. Raoul swallowed hard, heard the dry click in his throat before he croaked out, "Tracks…"
Instantly, a finger was laid against his lips and it felt all-too-real, warm as living flesh. "Shh, let me finish. I spent a long time perfecting this form and a much longer time considering what I was planning on doing with it. I'm well aware that I am risking my friendship with you by doing this."
Doing what? Raoul thought wildly. The flicker of headlights from passing cars gave him surreal flickers of Track's face as it leaned in towards his own. Frantically, he grabbed at Tracks' shoulders, trying to hold him back but he would have had better luck trying to push a brick wall. Soft lips brushed his own, the damp pressure of a tongue wriggling coaxingly against the seam of his lips.
"I'm risking everything," Tracks murmured, and Raoul couldn't help but notice his breath, warm and damp, like something real. He tried to convince himself it wasn't real, it wasn't. The seat beneath him was real, the hum of the tires on the road. The obnoxiously arrogant alien robot he called friend, strange as that was, that was real.
The mouth against his own was some kind of trick of light, some alien technology that might as well be magic for all Raoul understood it. It wasn't real but it didn't stop Raoul from hesitantly parting his own lips, from hearing Tracks groan in relief as he pushed his tongue inside. Wet, the slick arrogance of a tongue that didn’t just lick at his own but invaded his mouth and took. Tracks kissed him like he owned Raoul's mouth, like he could spend hours just kissing him, rubbing those too-smooth cheeks against Raoul's stubbled ones.
Shit, what had he been doing wrong all his life that no one had thought to kiss him like that before.
It didn't register until much too late that Tracks had slithered over the center console and into his lap, their mouths still hot against each other. Sharp teeth bit Raoul's lip until he yelped but even that wasn't enough to make him pull away. Not when a gentle tongue soothed that bite, then immediately followed it with another, sharp nips that made a trail down Raoul's jaw to his ear. That slick tongue caught on the silver hoop it found there, teeth clicking against the metal as Tracks panted words against his ear.
"I've wanted this for some time," Tracks shuddered, his hands moving busily down Raoul's chest, tugging at the t-shirt.
"You have?" Raoul managed, his voice embarrassingly dazed but fuck, he dared anyone to have someone like Tracks squirming in his lap without getting hard.
Speaking of hard…Tracks seemed to be abandoning his shirt and attacked the fly of his pants instead and, holy shit, there was no way a human would be able to move like that, squirming down into the footwell and nuzzling at Raoul's belly. That was a sure sign that whatever this was, it wasn't real, no human would fit down there along with Raoul's booted feet but it didn't seem to matter quite as much when Tracks got his pants open, tugging his hard cock out with gentle hands.
For the first time, he seemed uncertain, large blue eyes looking up at Raoul. He could see them in the flashes of the streetlights, wide eyes and pink, parted lips so close to the head of his cock that Raoul groaned, his hips straining up against the confines of the seatbelt.
"C'mon, don't tease," Raoul slurred out, watched as Track's tongue slid out from between those pretty lips, licked hesitantly at the clear bead of fluid at the tip of Raul's dick.
"Dios mio," Raoul whispered, tangling his hands into that long, dark hair. He had to resist the urge to tug that head down and just push into that sweet, dark mouth but he didn't have to wait long. Whatever confidence Tracks had lost he seemed to have regain, his tongue moving in wicked, slippery little ways as he wrapped the slick heat of his mouth around Raoul's cock. Hot, sweet suction surrounded him and Raoul's knees jerked up, his legs jittering helplessly and, oh, sweet—
"Dios mio, Dios, ay, Dios, ayudame," Raoul babbled. Begging for God to help him, as if the Lord and Savior could spare any of His time on something like this.
"Mmm, talking. I like that," Tracks mumbled, grazing his teeth against Raoul as he pulled up, swollen lips curving into a smirk. "Talk more."
"What…what do you want me to say?"
"Why not swear for me? I've always believed one should stick with their talents." And before Raoul could even grasp that he might have been insulted, Tracks had taken him in again, the sultry heat of his mouth surrounding Raoul's cock even as he licked away the glossy slickness welling again at the tip with a quick flicker of tongue.
"Pendejo!" Raoul gasped out and this time he didn't resist the urge to jerk Track's down by that cool, soft tangle of hair in his fists, arching up as much as he could against the pressure of the seatbelt. Tracks obligingly took him deeper, let Raoul guide him as he jerked up, trying to get in deeper, watching the hot length of his dick disappearing between those swollen lips.
"Más rápido, más rápido, por favor, más duro, por favor," Raoul was practically sobbing now. He could feel sweat rolling down his face, his clothes clinging to him stickily, and Tracks' mouth was moving lovingly up and down, the wet sounds loud in the confined space. It felt like his orgasm began in his spine, thundering sensation that slammed into his balls and brain with equal force and his sudden shout echoed in his own ears. He'd never felt anything like this before, Tracks swallowing him in deep and his cries took on an edge of almost pain, wondering dizzily if he could survive the pleasure wracking through him before finally, finally it eased, Tracks' mouth suddenly gentle as he pulled away, pressing tender kisses against Raoul's softening dick before he slithered back up into Raoul's lap and shifted those kisses back to his mouth, sharing the slick taste of himself.
"Jesus," Raoul said, his voice a rough quaver. Dimly, he realized at some point they had pulled over, could hear the faint ticking of Tracks' engine as it cooled. It seemed a lot less important than biting at Tracks lips, wondering a little wildly if Tracks would let him up enough to get into the back seat.
"Not precisely my name, but if you wish to worship me, who am I to protest?" Tracks murmured.
"Come here, and I'll show you worship," Raoul said, softly. He nuzzled Tracks' smooth cheek, pressing hot kisses against the soft shell of his ear as he breathed, "Eres hermoso."
"Of course I'm beautiful," Tracks gasped out, blue eyes fluttering closed. "You've always been an expert at stating the obv—" Raoul cut him off with another kiss.
Tracks might like to hear him talk but Raoul preferred his friend to shut up, for a little while.
-end-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 01:45 am (UTC)Delicious! There's more to them both than their snotty, prickly exteriors... Aaaand also this was hot! 8D
woo!
Date: 2011-05-09 04:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-27 02:56 pm (UTC)You wrote this piece of hawt and awesome?!?! You wrote my favorite TF pairing ever? It's official, I can die happy now.
...After one more trip to my bunk, because I just re-read this. Mmmm.