Chapter Text
You walked around the abandoned skate park with Mirage, each of you thinking that it would be time to go home soon and yet neither of you wished to leave one another. Being with Mirage was so easy. He was funny, caring, and he always tried to gleam more information from you about your life, using the little odd scarps that we so often forget to mention to others, to piece you together.
And Mirage… He was completely infatuated with you, though he had yet to mention it. He had been on Earth for a while now, and initially, he had found humans interesting enough but nothing too special. Then he met you, and you were different from what he was expecting. You weren’t afraid of him, you cared about the Autobots, and when push came to shove, you had risked your life to save them; you with your weak, fragile body, protecting them with their strong Cybertronian metal plating. As Optimus was so fond of saying, there was more to you than met the eye.
Then, on a night when Mirage had gone to check on you, shortly after he had recovered, he saw something… Something he couldn’t get off his processor.
You were just in your apartment, changing. It was late so you probably forgot to close your curtains, assuming there was nobody to watch you. Mirage knew that he should have looked away, but he was in awe of you. You were stunning. There wasn’t anything implicitly sexy about the way you changed, and it was over quickly as you wrapped yourself up in warm pyjamas, but Mirage couldn’t forget it.
He had been with his share of Cybertronians in the past, but now he wanted you… a human. Granted, Mirage was open-minded, but finding out that he was a xenophile was something of a surprise, and the worst part was not knowing if you were the same. While the two of you had fun together currently, he was certain that the two of you could have a lot more fun if you were open to human-Cybertronian relations.
Mirage discreetly side-eyed you, hardly listening to what you were saying while his thoughts were in such disarray. Asking you for a casual hook-up was out of the question. You were one of his few human friends, and he couldn’t risk scaring you off just because he was horny and wanted to interface.
Yet, just spending time with you was becoming difficult. His interface panel often strained to conceal his pressurised spike, his engines regularly revved at the sight of you, and he often had to think of Optimus’ boring speeches to stop his cooling fans from clicking on and giving away just how badly he wanted you when he was with the other Autobots.
Mirage would have liked the chance to date you, but since he couldn’t give you a normal relationship and he might have to one day leave you the same way Bee had to leave Charlie, he thought that friends-with-benefits might be better… it would certainly be a step up from just friends.
Well, maybe Mirage couldn’t ask you to interface, but perhaps he could get you to ask him if you felt the same way at all.
“Hey (Y/N), I’m curious about something,” He stated, swinging his arms by his sides, and trying to act normal.
“Sure, Mirage. What’s up?” You beamed looking up at him.
Mirage fought to keep his optics on your face instead of letting them travel lower, to areas he wished to see unclothed. His cheek-plates burned and he was forced to play things cool as he thought about his most recent telling off from Prime to keep himself calm.
“Is there anything you want to do that you’ve never done before, like something completely wild?”
You considered the question for a moment, then grinned smugly, “What, like taking on an enemy species in a battle to save the planet from a world-devouring alien?”
Mirage laughed, “I said something you hadn’t done.”
You hummed thoughtfully, clicking your tongue. Mirage’s engines revved as he thought about all the wonderful things that tongue could do. Fortunately, you didn’t seem to care about the sound, seeing as he revved his engines a lot around you; you thought it was just something some Cybertronians did, not knowing the meaning behind it.
You snorted a half-laugh as the sound triggered an idea.
“Hey, that’s the look of someone who’s thought of something great,” Mirage praised you, excited to see you smile.
You shook your head chuckling, “No, it’s too weird.”
“I can work with weird. C’mon, tell your old pal Mirage what it is. It doesn’t matter how odd, or naughty it is.”
“You’ll think I’m stupid.”
“I promise I won’t.” Mirage made a cross over his chassis with his hand, “Cross my spark and hope to die.”
You bit your lip nervously, “Alright, but you better not laugh. It’s just that…”
Mirage bent over, resting his servos on his legs. You were going to say it. He was sure of it. Tonight, you and he would go where no Cybertronian or human had gone before, creating an inter-species relationship that was bound to be fantastic.
“I want to race,” You admitted with a sheepish smile.
“What?” Mirage blinked, and then he remembered that he was supposed to be playing things cool. “Race huh, that’s- not what I was expecting.”
“I know. It’s so silly, right? It’s just, I see you all driving so fast and I kind of wanted to try it. It doesn’t even have to be a race per se, just the ability to go somewhere fast and not have to stop for anyone.”
“Why haven’t you tried it before?”
“Are you kidding?” You asked incredulously. “I’d crash for sure. It’s okay though, ‘cos I have you, and you never drive slow.”
Mirage nodded slowly, and then he became more animated, practically bouncing on the spot.
“I’ve got an idea,” He said, transforming into his alt-mode. Granted, he was no longer a sleek Porsche, but he could still go fast in his new form of mismatched parts. “Come on, get in.”
You complied, buckling your seatbelt, “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we don’t have to stop for anyone.”
“We shouldn’t be here,” You said from Mirage’s driver’s seat, anxious as you glanced around at the surrounding area.
The two of you were behind the starting line of a NASCAR race track, though by the looks of it, it wasn’t one often used except apparently by rookies who needed training for the big leagues, or so Mirage had told you anyway.
“Hey, it’ll be fine. I already disabled the cameras, and the security here sucks,” Mirage insisted.
“How do you know that?”
“Me and Bee come here a lot. It gives us something to do, and I swear that I’m going to beat his track record any day now.”
“Yes, you might beat his track record but I certainly can’t.”
“C’mon. This is what you wanted. Drive like you mean it and take no prisoners. This will be epic. You got this, just slam down on the gas, and don’t stop for anything.”
You reached hesitantly for the steering wheel, pulling your hands back at the last minute, “Won’t this be weird for you? I mean, you can drive yourself.”
“Pfft, nah, it’s fine. Come on, take the wheel.”
After another moment’s hesitation, you did as he told you, taking the wheel and ever so gently changing gears and nudging forward on the gas pedal, taking Mirage into a light cruise of 30 miles per hour.
Mirage wasn’t impressed.
“Yeah, see this is how you drive every single day, y’know? This is the speed you drive when you’re going to work and you don’t want to see that bitch from accounting. This isn’t speed, this is a chore. Put some power into it (Y/N). Drive like you’re fleeing death. Drive like you’re coming to see me.”
Mirage very nearly added Drive like you want to meet me for a hook-up, but he managed to control himself, feeling slightly perverse that currently, he could only think of you as his fetish.
Primus, he wanted you so much.
“You promise that you’ll take over if I mess up?” You asked quietly.
“Of course,” He promised.
You nodded and took a deep breath. Then, after releasing it, you pressed down on the accelerator, slowly gaining speed. Although you hadn’t “punched it”, Mirage was at least glad to see that you were slowly gaining confidence and speed. You slowed down to take corners for the first few laps, but after a few tries, you seemed to improve.
On each lap of the track, Mirage gave you advice on how best to proceed. He coached you on when to speed up, brake, turn, and change gear. You were by no means an expert at track racing, but with his advice, you would at least have a decent chance at being a getaway driver should you or Noah be attacked by Terracons again.
Finally, Mirage stopped you at the start line of the track.
“Alright, now you’re gonna put together everything you’ve learned and prove how great of a teacher I am,” He told you. “Five laps, no stopping, just pure Mirage-power, ‘cos let me tell you, this guy does not run on horsepower.”
“Gee Mirage, you got beef with horses?” You joked.
“They’re dirty, smelly, slow, and I don’t like their eyes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with horses’ eyes, you weirdo.”
“They see through people, (Y/N). They know all and I swear, they don’t share that knowledge on purpose. Four-legged freaks.”
“There’s nothing wrong with four legs either, dork.”
Mirage briefly envisioned you on all fours, taking his spike from behind as held your hips into place, calling his name and begging him to let you cum. His engines revved uncontrollably, and this time his cooling fans had to click on to stop him from overheating.
“Right,” He said a little too quickly, “Whatever. Let’s forget about dogging- uh dogs- Horses! Let’s forget about horses and get these laps underway. I really think you got it this time.”
“Alright,” You replied, looking ahead, “Just give me one second.”
You took a few minutes to examine the track that you had spent the night driving, and after his prior slip-up, Mirage had to wonder whether you were staying quiet on purpose. Surely, you had noticed how frazzled he was… Then again, maybe your mind simply wasn’t where his was.
“Okay,” You finally said, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m ready now.”
You slammed your foot down hard on the gas pedal. Mirage groaned from the force, taking off at speed.
You winced at the sound, mistaking his arousal for pain, “Oh, I’m sorry, was that too rough?”
“Don’t slow down,” Mirage ordered you, riding off the high of being driven by you. He hadn’t known that would feel so good. And when you talked about being rough? You had to be toying with him. If he ever got his way with you, he would be sure to show you just how rough he liked it.
“Are you sure?” You asked, taking your focus off the road.
“Sharp turn,” Mirage commanded, drawing your attention back to the upcoming turn.
You gritted your teeth determinedly and wrenched the steering wheel around sharply, just making the turn. Mirage gasped, the sound barely masked by the screech of his tires.
“You- You’re doing good,” He exhaled, the thrill of your touch coursing through him.
On the next turn, you pressed hard on his brakes, using the force to pull off the more difficult manoeuvre.
“That was tight,” You observed.
Mirage could think only of how his dripping wet valve would tighten around your pumping fist should you ever give him a hand job. Frag! Everything was turning him on.
“Keep going,” He begged pathetically.
You continued the next two laps silently, focusing entirely on the road. Yet, with every pump of the gas or breaks, you would shift ever so slightly on his seat, and he could only imagine that you were dry-humping him and rubbing yourself into a frenzy.
“(Y/N),” He called your name needily, thinking of your hands rubbing against his park break, or against his spike (either would do).
“Yeah?” You shifted against him again, coming up to the last lap. Oh, how terrible it was to think that you could be cumming on him instead. He would be certain to lap up your cum, and make you drink up his when he overloaded on your face.
“I just-” Mirage could barely form words, and he wondered what was wrong with him. It wasn’t normal for him to want someone this much; then again, his previous dates had practically thrown themselves at him, which was just one of the many perks of being wealthy. The fact that you were practically unobtainable was driving him insane.
“Good luck,” He finished lamely, trying to collect himself.
You nodded, and sped through the final lap, treating him even rougher than before. When you passed the finish line you squealed with joy, and threw up your arms in victory, leaving Mirage to stop himself.
“Oh my God,” You panted, adrenalin coursing through you. You got out of the car, wanting to talk to Mirage face-to-face.
When he transformed, you began your eager tirade, bouncing from the rush, “You were right, Mirage. That was so awesome. Look at me, I have literal goosebumps, and oh gosh, I have so much ENERGY. Thank you.”
“Energy huh,” Mirage said dazedly.
“Yep. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight, that was exhilarating. You got any more ideas for things we could do.”
“(Y/N),” Mirage practically barked your name, his desperation and desire coming to a head, “I gotta tell you something and it’s crazy.”
“Sure, what’s-”
“I’m gonna fuck you in Noah’s garage. Please let me fuck you,” He corrected himself.
You stopped your energetic hopping, staring at Mirage in disbelief.
“Wait, what?”
“C’mon (Y/N),” Mirage looked at you raggedly. “What do you say? Friends with benefits?”