Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2007324.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Transformers_(Bay_Movies)
  Relationship:
      Crosshairs/Hound
  Character:
      Crosshairs_(Transformers), Hound_(Transformers)
  Additional Tags:
      reluctance, Bondage, Dom/sub
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-23 Words: 1806
****** Complaints ******
by Marimomarble99
Summary
     Hound decides to teach Crosshairs a lesson after one too many
     complaints about their leader.
Notes
     Credits to Khuahaul for the picture that inspired this fic
Warnings: M/M, Dom/Sub, Bondage, Reluctance
Characters: Crosshairs, Hound
Pairings: HoundxCrosshairs-
Setting: After AoE @ Cade’s new place
 
Crosshairs sat in a corner of the Yeagers’ barn, growling softly to himself. To
say that he wasn’t happy with being charged with the safety of the three
squishies by Optimus Prime was the understatement of the century. Hound sat
nearby, with that damn cygar in his mouth, as he listened to Crosshairs rant.
The Autobot’s technical specialist grew increasingly annoyed with each word
that came out of Crosshairs’ mouth. He could tell that the mech was nanoklicks
away from outright hurling insults at Prime.
“I mean, why should ah stick mah neck out for Optimus, huh? What’s in it fer
meh?” he growled.
That does it, thought Hound. Crosshairs was suddenly slapped across the
faceplates by Hound’s thick spike. Hound grabbed Crosshairs helm and yanked him
forwards, mashing the paratrooper’s faceplates against his spike. Taken by
surprise, Crosshairs fell forward on his hands and knees, heat pooling in his
interface panel from the display of dominance by Hound.
“Cuz ya lil’ Bitch,” Crosshairs felt a thrill of arousal race down his back
struts at Hound’s low, husky tone.
“Optimus needs us like ya need a spike to swallow,” Hound growled, shoving
Crosshairs’ face against his fat, pressurised spike.
Crosshairs got the message loud and clear. However, he wasn’t ready to submit
just yet. Swiftly, he placed his servos on Hound’s knee joints and pushed
against them hard. Hound stumbled back and Crosshairs immediately rolled out of
the way. Getting to his pedes, he gave the dark green bot a smug smirk.
“Ya ain’t gonna pin meh down tha’ easy.”
Hound’s optics narrowed and Crosshairs had just enough time to jump out of the
way before a grenade was thrown in his direction. Landing on the floor, he
scrambled away just to realise that the grenade hadn’t exploded. A large figure
loomed above him and Crosshairs was suddenly grabbed by his face and dragged
across the floor of the barn, with Crosshairs struggling all the way. Hound
easily pinned Crosshairs down and grabbed both his arms, chaining them to a
rafter in the barn. Standing in front of Crosshairs, he waited until the bot
got back on his knees before rudely slapping him in the faceplates with his
fully pressurised spike. He grabbed the kneeling bot’s helm and mashed his
faceplates against his spike once again, smearing lubricant all over
Crosshairs’ faceplates.
Crosshairs gave a muffled groan and eyed the spike before looking up at his
mate. Said mech was staring down at him with a look of anger and lust
smouldering in his optics. Moaning, waves of arousal hit him as he realised how
thoroughly fragged he was going to be once Hound was done with him. His lustful
thoughts were cut short by Hound pressing his hips against Crosshairs’ face.
Without further hesitation, Crosshairs took his mate’s spike in his mouth,
swallowing its full length. He gently scraped his denta along Hound’s length
and swirled his glossa around the tip of his spike. As he bobbed his head up
and down his mate’s length, he moaned as Hound facefucked him, shoving his
spike down his intake. Feeling his own spike straining to get free of its
housing and the lubricant that had been pooling in his valve start to trickle
down his thighs slowly, he tugged on his restraints, mewling, trying to free
his servos so that he could pleasure himself. Unfortunately, Hound had wound
the chains around his arms pretty tightly, so getting loose wasn’t an option.
He was about to open his interface panels when Hound growled roughly.
“You’d better keep your equipment behind its panels or I’ll make sure you won’t
walk straight for weeks.”
Crosshairs wouldn’t have minded feeling sore except for the fact that the damn
bug and the samurai would never let him live it down if they saw him limping
around looking like he’d been freshly fragged. Arching against Hound,
Crosshairs rubbed his thighs together in an attempt to create some delicious
freedom to alleviate the near painful sensation of arousal and whined around
Hound’s spike when his efforts ended in vain.
Grunting, Hound made a few more thrusts and fully sheathed himself in
Crosshairs’ mouth, overloading in it. Groaning, Crosshairs obediently swallowed
it up. A trickle of lubricant made its way down the corner of the paratrooper’s
mouth. Hound’s interface panel snapped back into place over his spike and he
looked down at Crosshairs critically, musing over how he should punish his
rowdy lover as he watched the Corvette pant and rub his thighs together, trying
to overload himself. This hadn’t been the first time Crosshairs had complained
about why he should follow Prime and it was definitely not the last, but Hound
would teach Crosshairs a lesson he would never forget, to shut him up for quite
some time (hopefully it didn’t encourage him instead). The dark green mech eyed
his mate with slight amusement at how desperate Crosshairs was getting. An idea
formed in Hound’s processor.
Crosshairs panted as he tried to create enough friction between his thighs and
interface panel to send him into overload. He bucked and twisted but his
efforts only succeeded in getting him even more riled up. Groaning, partially
in agony and mostly in lust, he looked up at Hound pleadingly, silently begging
his mate to help him out. He wouldn’t actually beg, of course. His pride would
never allow him to do that. Or so he thought. His vision blurred slightly
around the edges of his optics as he stared up at the mech, who had a smirk on
his faceplates.
Finally, Hound placed his servos on Crosshairs and started stroking his armour,
pinching sensitive wires and getting him as riled up as possible. An enormous
charge had begun to build in Crosshairs’ body but he had no way of hurrying
Hound to dispel it. Hound’s hands wandered lower and lower until one of his
servos was stroking Crosshairs’ inner thigh and the other was busy groping his
aft. Hound claimed Crosshairs’ mouth in a rough kiss and their glossas fought
for dominance as Hound’s teasing hand got nearer and nearer to Crosshairs’
interface panel. The green Corvette bucked and writhed against Hound’s
ministrations, moaning into his mouth, his optics shuttering and off lining in
pleasure. Smirking against Crosshairs’ mouth, Hound cupped the mech’s interface
panel, smirk widening when said mech bucked into Hound’s hand keening
desperately. Hound stroked his mate’s panel once, twice and then, stepped away
from him completely. Crosshairs nearly wailed at the loss of contact, electric
blue optics coming online in a flash to see his mate standing in front of him,
arms crossed over his chassis and smirking down at him.
“Why’d ya stop!” Crosshairs demanded angrily, though the impact of his words
was greatly lessened by the static lacing his voice. Hound smirked simply
widened. Leaning down, he growled into Crosshairs audial huskily.
”Beg for it.”
Crosshairs’ optics widened. He looked away immediately, embarrassment colouring
his faceplates. Hound grinned.
“If you don’t, then I’ll leave you here, chains and all. Hope ya enjoy
explainin’ to the other bots about what you’re doin like this,” he said.
Crosshairs’ helm snapped towards his mate’s faceplates. He narrowed his optics.
“Ya wouldn’t,” he said lowly, a hint of desperation in his voice. Hound matched
his mate’s gaze with a smug amusement of his own.
“Try me.”
Crosshairs gritted his derma, turning his gaze to the floor. Raising an optic
ridge, Hound shrugged.
“Alright then.”
The jeep turned around and walked towards the berths in the barn. Crosshairs
stared after his mate in horror. He was actually fraggin serious! Torn between
his pride and dignity, Crosshairs held a quick internal debate before deciding
to save his dignity and surrendered himself to Hound.
“Please…”
The word was so soft that Hound almost didn’t catch it. So, he pretended like
he didn’t and continued walking.
“Please.”
Crosshairs’ voice was heard clearly this time around. Hound grinned and turned
to face his mate. Crossing the floor, he stood in front of the bot again,
crossing his arms over his chassis as he waited for his bot to speak.
Crosshairs was burning up in humiliation and arousal. He had never had to beg
anyone to do anything and being completely dominated by his mate turned him on
completely. Faceplates burning in embarrassment, Crosshairs forced himself to
meet Hounds optics.
“Please, Hound. Please frag me.”
Hound’s spike pressurised immediately, straining against its housing. He had
never felt more turned on in his life. His mate kneeled before him, arms bound
to the rafters above, covered in his lubricant and begging for his spike. He
was more than happy to oblige.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Hound said with a grin. Servos scraped
against Crosshairs’ interface panel, creating the delicious friction he had
longed for.
“Open for me,” Hound murmured into his audios. Crosshairs moaned in
satisfaction as his interfacing panels slid back, revealing his spike and
valve. Lubricant pooled on the floor below his valve in waterfalls and his
thick spike was twitching, begging for attention. Chuckling, Hound released his
own spike from its housing again and positioned himself at Crosshairs’
entrance. In one fluid movement, Hound slammed himself into Crosshairs’ well-
lubricated valve. Said mech was in bliss. Every sensory node in his valve was
on fire as Hound pounded into him, hitting his sweet spot every time. Throwing
back his helm, Crosshairs moaned loudly and tugged on his bonds and Hound held
his hips in place and rammed into him. The charge building up in Crosshairs’
body grew larger and larger, causing his optics to become white and making him
nearly scream in pleasure.
Sensing his mate was close to overload, Hound whispered into Crosshairs’
audios, “Cum for me.” In two more thrusts, Crosshairs overloaded, crying out
his mate’s name, with Hound right behind him, doing the same thing. Hound held
him close as both mechs panted from their overwhelming overload. Slowly, Hound
got to his pedes and untied Crosshairs, helping the mech get on his pedes. The
pair made their way to the berths and collapsed on one of them; Hound putting
an arm around Crosshairs’ waist and drawing him close, settling his mate’s helm
on his chassis.
Chuckling softly, Crosshairs murmured with a smile on his faceplates, “If this
is wha’ happens when ah complain ‘bout followin’ Optimus, ah gotta do it more
often.”
Shaking his helm lightly, Hound watched as his mate fell into recharge. Looking
over the top of the mech’s head, he realised that they had left quite a mess
behind. Ah, well. He’d clean it up tomorrow. Offlining his optics, Hound
followed his mate into a peaceful recharge.
 http://khuahaul.tumblr.com/post/91355826387/i-have-a-major-n-e-e-d-for-more-
of-this-pairing

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