ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

[rodders]

Who: ALL ROBOTS.
Where: THE FORUM
When: RIGHT THE FUCK NOW
What: ROBOT PROM
Warnings: teenagers making out, galvatron doing his thing, a throwdown between first aid and tarn over sixshot. usual prom shit.


ROBOT PROM

the punch has been spiked, the music is whatever they could scrape together, and there’s bleachers to make out behind. takes place OUTSIDE in the forum so there's plenty of space and people can easily crash it.

prom king is optimus prime, prom queen is pipes.

please behave as irresponsibly as you would at real prom.

comment around, mingle, you all know the drill.

Comments

[fuckinstoplights]

"Was..."

Another head tilt. His feet shuffle. "What is it now?"

[imatruck]

“...no one, I think.” you're kind of scaring him, little bot.

[imatruck]

“Tough? Hehe, you got me there!”

Tough means he's won a lot of fights, obviously. But then he notices he's really close. Too close.

“...uh, you're in my face.”

[redshitlord]

"Yeah! Yeah, I got you. Right. Here."

Pat. Pat pat.

And then it dawns on him he's... less than a few inches from Grimlock's face and yeah, the guy is really cute. A good bot, too. Good friend, Grim.

Really good.

He's about to get even more in your face, Grimlock. Because this is probably the most fumbling attempt to kiss you there ever was.

[crabcake]

Rampage rumbles softly at the kiss, brushing his mandibles against First Aid's face in his best approximation of one as his fingers work slowly inside of the medic. They're too large and clumsy to go searching for nodes to tease, but they're thick enough to rub against everything.

He obeys happily when First Aid tells him to touch, stroking strong fingers reverently over his cord, then up his belly and over his chest, then working their way back down, tracing over seams.

A small huff of disappointment escapes him as First Aid slides off his fingers, but it frees his hand to run his hand over his hip and side, leaving glistening trails of lubricant.

The firm stroke has him moan again, squirming under the smaller mech on his lap, small spills of fresh fluid dripping over First Aid's hands.

"Mmn, I don't... think?" His transformation involves very little mass shifting, so he's unsure if he's capable, even if he knew how to do it consciously.

[scaredybot]

Mayday is far too nervous about impending catfights and TMI to take Pipes's suggestion as anything other than the perfect excuse to go home and hide.

Why must you be such a weenie, Mayday.

"That sounds great," he says, voice getting progressively shriller. Dropping backwards into vehicle, a very nervous treaded motorbike shakes in place. "Let's go right now."

[lifepersists]

"Hmm," First Aid hums thoughtfully, wiggling and arching in Rampage's lap as his hands roam his frame. He could wrap his hand around his whole torso; just watching the massive palm brush over his body does it for the medic as much as touching his spike had.

It bobs between his legs as it twitches, heavy with pressure and charge and scorching hot, aching with the need for relief. He presses a hand to Rampage's chest, using it to steady him as he eyes up the enormous cord.

"Gonna be a challenge..." It didn't mean he wasn't going to try. A good mix of total inebriation and thirst to have something huge shoved up deep in him.

First Aid has to lift himself up a bit more, leaning against Rampage's frame as he slides his valve over the tip, smearing their combined fluids over the folds around his rim. He lets the head catch and settles it to plug his opening, pressing down just enough to squeeze around the the vents aimed in him.

"W-Wanna help?"

[crabcake]

Rampage shudders hard as First Aid moves to mount his spike, his spark and hardware practically aching in anticipation and his hands still roaming freely over the medic's plating.

The valve settling over his cord almost undoes him again, tremors quaking through him, his hips jerking slightly. First Aid is so tight and hot around him he can hardly stand it, the warm, wet slide over the head of his spike dragging a long moan out of him.

Shaky hands settle over First Aid's hips, lending no more assistance than their own weight. He knows he could tug First Aid down easily, spearing him on his cord. But the fit is already so tight, and his spike only gets thicker... As much as he enjoys the pain of others, this is definitely not the time for it.

He manages to groan out, "It's not going to fit."

[scaredybot]

"Then why would you-!"

Mayday's mouth snaps shut with a click. Oh no. It's that look. The 'wow Mayday calm down you're freaking out look'. The 'what is wrong with you Mayday' look. The 'are you actually a functional cog in the Autobot machine' look.

"I'm not- there's nothing- I'm fine!" he squeaks, stating intently at his drink. Oh no, it's empty, he can't distract himself with it.

"I need more punch!" Time to stand up and try not to trip over his own feet.

[lifepersists]

First Aid groans in frustration as he rocks back and forth against the huge spike, trying to shift it inside of him. The rim of his port aches as he tries pushing down on it, stretched to his limits before he even has the head in. He lifts himself up off Rampage and presses a hand between his legs, spreading his opening with his fingers before he tries again, pulling at the lining as he pushes down.

"I just need to--" he starts, then hisses. "Ow--"

The head of the spike pops from First Aid's valve with an audible sound and he slips. He touches the rim gingerly, feeling for a tear, fingers coming away slick with lubricant and a tiny smear of energon.

"All right, maybe not."

[crabcake]

Rampage is trying very, very hard not to let his hands clench too tightly around first Aid's little waist, or to drag him down to feel that amazing tightness all around him, or to overload again already... First Aid's attempts to ride him aren't helping one bit, however, and he's gasping and whining by the time the medic gives up, leaving him a quivering mess.

He feels the prick of pain on his spark, and he slowly rubs his fingers over First Aid's hips. "Sorry..."

He's both sorry and disappointed, his horns drooping.

[lifepersists]

No matter how wet he is, he's not going to fit Rampage's spike in him. First Aid makes a soft sound of disappointment as his hand lingers between his legs, softly tracing the rim. It aches, but he'll live; the overcharge dulls the pain enough he almost forgets it the moment his attention shifts back to Rampage.

"I'm too small," he huffs, looking at the mech's spike. He wanted so badly to have it inside him his frame ached. He couldn't remember the last time he had been fragged full. "I just wanted your first interface to be wonderful."

So he's not going to be able to fit him unless he spontaneously doubles his valve in size or Rampage figures out how to shrink his cord. First Aid kisses him softly, peppering them over the mech's shoulders.

"You can come on me instead? Or we can do one of those-- right before you overload you plug me up and..." he pats his belly. "All inside. But that might be a bit complicated for you..."

[crabcake]

Letting his faceplates slide shut, Rampage shifts his hands to First Aid's waist and drags him up so he can nuzzle the smaller mech's face all over, mandibles tickling.

"This is wonderful," he says. Honestly, even before the first overload, this is literally the most intense pleasure he's ever experienced.

Sliding a hand down over First Aid's aft, he rubs a finger gently over the soft mesh surrounding his valve. He groans again as First Aid talks about what they could do, his spike throbbing at the possibilities. Burying his face against First Aid's neck, his finger sliding between slick folds to stroke over valve entrance and external nodes, he says, "Just tell me what to do. Whatever you want."

He's so very grateful right now. He just wants to make First Aid feel as good as he is.

[rodders]

Have you met Rodimus, Cyclonus? Any silence is too much unless he's sulking. Taking stock. But he's not giving up on conversation with Cylconus yet, never fear.

"Been keeping yourself busy here? There's always Tarn around if you need something to punch. And you can tell him I told you that when you're ramming your horn into his eye."

Ah, sweet vindication.

[sparkwhisperer]

"Don't patronize me! I'll do as I please."

The snap was accompanied by another forceful kick that causes Tarn to lose his balance and fall backwards onto his back with a 'clang'.

He flounders, trying to roll onto his side to push himself up. After a few moments he manages to get into a sitting position, glaring at Miria.

"Fine. You can sit over there. Just don't talk to me." He huffs, leaning back against the bleachers.

[rodders]

Rodimus feels his own face relax, lips turning up in a smile to match Drift's. It's easier to do when he's around - the familiarity he missed with what felt like all of him.

"It felt odd. In a good way, I mean, since you had it." If he was the more poetic sort, he would have mentioned that it felt like a bit of him was walking around with Drift - he'd had that badge since the moment Optimus gave it to him after graduating from Autobot Academy. But he's not, so the thought stays unsaid. "Hey, I wasn't the only one wandering around badgeless. It suits you."

The Decepticon symbol scratched into his chassis doesn't count. It never counted.

[imatruck]

"Thanks..."

Wait. What's happening. Wait his face is coming up to him.

Wait wait no this isn't right. Grimlock experienced very little and this is one of them. The mouth connects and Grimlock freezes. His face becomes a sculpture of confusion and a pinch of enjoyment.

"...uh." His legs finally start working.

"I need to go." And Grimlock transforms, high tailing it out of there.

[redshitlord]

Everything is great. Really, really great. Even if he doesn't... entirely process why it's so great. He just knows there is someone large and warm and attractive holding him up, and this is totally what he saw in every movie ever.

It's great up until Grimlock transforms.

Up until Sideswipe hits the floor and just... sort of lies there in a heap of drunken red confusion.



"Huh?"

[planate]

"Right now? I'm not all sure. I have to figure that out."

He shrugs. End of war and all that.

"What about you?"

[planate]

"I'll follow you." he says, doing the same.

Take them somewhere proper, Mayday. The burden of leadership is on your shoulders.

[fuckinstoplights]

"I... I don't know either."

His shoulders hunch, and he seems to pull in further on himself.

"... I don't have a purpose anymore."

[tsunclonus]

"I'll keep that in mind," Cyclonus says, his tone saying that he's probably not going to keep that in mind. He has been keeping an eye on Tarn during the party, though, ready to step in if things start to get out of hand.

"I've been keeping watch on the city," he answers. Also singing to Cybertron, but whatever. Very busy.

[planate]

"That's not a bad thing! That means you can do whatever you want!"

He claps his hands together.

"No more fixing broken water pipes for me!"

[fuckinstoplights]

"No, I can't."

He shrugs, folding his arms again. What he wants isn't here. So how can he?

"... Is that why you're called Pipes?"

[planate]

"There's nothing stopping you, right?"

He shrugs. There's no way for him to know about Shadowmaru.

"That's right!" Pipes laughs, "That and the pipes on my arms!"