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Mirage had never really paid attention to how the human race breathed. He noticed it, even felt it quite strongly when he merged with Noah in Peru, the strong contractions and thudding heart as Noah ran for not only his sake but for everyone else’s. Still, it wasn’t something Mirage truly ever hyper fixated on.
Until he saw Noah shirtless, lying down on cool concrete like it was a normal thing to do.
Not that Mirage is complaining, how could he complain when the sight that lays before him is something so unintentionally erotic and delicious that he for once is at a loss for words?
Noah, oblivious, with eyes closed and arms behind his head merely sighs and Mirage quickly learns that it’s not really the breathing that captured his attention. Oh no, it was the way it forced the yielding plains of Noah’s abdominals to move.
The simple motion of expanding and contracting, drawing Mirages optic across every ridge and valley and back again, truly and wonderfully hypnotized. The human frame is a paradox in itself, soft and yielding flesh burying a harder frame and muscles. Something so unlike his own body (so weak in comparison but still so easy to love and cherish), so unlike anything he has seen in this universe, despite seeing a good handful of different organic species but this body was different because it belonged to Noah .
Mirage was not an exploring type of mech, the organics he’s seen never truly drew more than a passing glance of curiosity from him before being dismissed but now he’s practically choking at the bit to touch and taste. To explore the delicate and yet sturdy ( delicious, tempting, mesmerizing) frame that was the human body, or more accurately, to discover the body of one Noah Diaz.
His optics blow wide and he has to silence his vocalizer to stop himself from groaning as Noah shifts. Back arching deliciously in a stretch, once again, drawing Mirages optics over the harsh/soft lines of Noah’s ribs and stomach before immediately snapping back to the bend of Noah’s throat as the boy lets out a groan of contentment.
His processor whirs as he makes sure to burn the sight to the deepest part of his processors, optics stuck on that muscular neck.
The neck that bends back as if offering itself, a major weak point that thrums with life, offered up to dermas, denta and tongue to explore, mark and claim. As if Noah is offering-!
What Mirage wouldn’t give to feel every, twitch and roll of every inch of Noah’s body under his hands. His dermas, dentas and tongue gauging every movement of corded muscles and golden skin across every inch of Noah’s body!
Would Noah want that? Would he ever be able to see Mirage as a possible romantic partner? They’re so different and yet so similar-
All too soon it’s over, Noah flopping back to the ground with a satisfied grunt that Mirage definitely doesn’t record, just like he hasn’t recorded small moments like these at any other time (purely for research purposes, of course).
“Should I be worried?”
The words cause the mech to jolt, optics cycling, as if shocked.
“Uh, what?”
Noah cracks open an eye, head and neck turning to the autobot at his side with a teasing smirk.
“You ain’t talkin, for once. Should I be worried?”
Mirage rolls his eyes, two can play this game.
“Nah bro, just stunned that you apparently think concrete is comfortable enough to lie on when you got the back of an old geezer from slouching all day.”
A huff of amusement, soft eyes that hold his focus and delicate lips quirk at him that has Mirage's processor trip over itself, again.
“All the more reason to lay down on something solid and flat man. Does the back good.”
I can be solid and flat, maybe you wanna lay on me sometime sweetspark? Mirage cringes at the thought, embarrassed and hopeless in equal measure. Noah just huffs another laugh, oblivious, not understanding or hearing Mirage's internal struggles. He gives another stretch, and Jesus fucking Christ this human is gonna be the death of him-
And all too soon, Noah is back on his feet, muscular shoulders rolling and back muscles twisting and Mirage feels his spark twist in such agonizing longing that his vocalizer spits static.
Noah immediately tenses, whirling around to face him, beautiful eyes scouring like a hot poker across Mirage's face plates.
“You a’right man?”
And Mirage tries to keep his tone level and his lips from twisting in bitterness at the question, his spark humming in silent longing behind his chest plates.
“Yeah, I’m good.”