robothell | ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

The tug is noticeable, like an invisible force pushing him forward, but it isn't unpleasant. Resisting it makes a little rush of thrill run through his system, his visor flickering as he smooths his palms over Rampage's core. The flicker of energy against his palm tickles and his own plating clicks in response.

"Oh, look at you," he hums, chasing a ripple of energy across the surface with two curved knuckles. "So gorgeous."

The light of the spark doesn't bother him, and the strange rippling was intimidating, but when no harm comes to him from touching it he settles into a rhythm of stroking.

"Your spark is the most sensitive interface organ in your frame. You want to pop one off quick, just open up and give a few rubs and you'll bee seeing stars in minutes."

Bright points blossom on Rampage's spark everywhere that First Aid touches, following his fingers in trails and slowly fading behind them.

He can feel energy surging and swelling from his spark to spread out across his body, filling him with heat. It feels good. Impossibly too good. Far better than he deserves, and he's struck with an urge to pull away in shame, countered by a selfish desire for more, more, more. So he remains, squirming under First Aid's touch and letting loose an overwhelmed whine.

He hardly hears First Aid as he speaks, lost in the sweet pleasure being drawn out of his twisted core. He's vaguely aware of heat building between his legs and a sudden release of pressure as pelvic plating folds open.

Just watching Rampage would have probably done it for First Aid, but he can feel him shifting helplessly beneath him, making him have to adjust with each buck and arch. That really does it for him and his venting hitches as his frame heats, his spark pulsing a little faster.

"Don't hold back. It's okay to let go," he encourages, rubbing the tips of his fingers along the rims of the casing. He lets the energy tangle around each digit and pulls back, playing with the magnetic pull.

He feels the heat and shift of the mech's interface array behind him before he really registered hearing it. First Aid aches to turn and look, but his focus was on the green spark pulsing between his palms. The medic groans, his own frame throbbing with need, wanting to be touched, his port already gathering lubricant.

Rampage clutches helplessly at First Aid, and even trying to remind himself to be gentle the smaller mech will probably end up with a few more dents in his frame tonight.

He whines louder, venting heavily, the pleasure of First Aid's fingers on his core simultaneously too much and not enough. And yet it keeps building and he can't help but arch into that sweet touch until he doesn't think he can take anymore.

Then something gives, a massive surge of charge that sends him reeling, blazing across his circuits and whiting out his vision. His hearing is filled briefly with static so he can't hear it when he screams out loud.

As the plating crunches beneath Rampage's palm, First Aid holds in a hiss at the sting, keeping his attention focused on the rising crest of energy rippling through the mech's frame. It's infectious; he shudders as the electricity arcs and bounces over to his own body, gasp involuntarily ripping from his vocalizer.

First Aid reaches one hand to his face, pressing into the corners of his mask and practically throwing it away. He makes good on his promise for a kiss as Rampage's overload washes over him, pressing soft, light kisses to the edging of the casing.

Rampage's spark throbs against First Aid's lips, sending little jolts of electricity across them that slowly fade as the overload burns itself out.

Coming down, Rampage sags against the rubble supporting him, feeling like all his support struts have turned to putty. He's vaguely aware of wetness between his legs, more aware of his hands on First Aid. He quickly loosens his grip on the medic and tries to mumble an apology.

All he manages is a long moan.

First Aid licks his lips as he pulls back, tingling from the charge. He feels a bit naked without his mask -- he's often debated having his face removed again -- but lips do come in handy sometimes.

He presses soft kisses to Rampage's cheeks as soon as he's able to move, careful not to lean too much into his open chest plating. The medic laughs light and airy, his vocalizer a little staticy from the charge still coursing through him.

"That was an overload. What do you think?"

"Oh," is the first thing Rampage manages to say, staring blankly up at the battered metal roof of their impromptu den. "That was- I didn't expect-"

His fans hitch and he glances down to meet First Aid's gaze. He didn't realize he was capable of feeling that good or that a spark - his spark - could bring so much pleasure.

He sits up suddenly, arms wrapping around First Aid in a bear hug and burying his face against the small mech's neck. A staticky click escapes his vocalizer.

First Aid settles in, patiently waiting for Rampage to recover from the rush. The first time is always very intense-- especially a spark centered overload. And really, fumbling into overload by yourself didn't quite compare to having another set of hands.

"Whoa," he yelps, almost slipping down Rampage's chest as he moves, but the huge arms curling around him make sure he doesn't go anywhere.

He had to admit, being completely enveloped like this didn't do much to calm the pulsing of his spark. The warmth against his neck had him heating, his fans spinning a bit faster to keep up. First Aid curls his arms around Rampage's shoulders, feeling very small against him.

"You okay?"

"Mmph." Rampage is just going to curl up around First Aid for awhile. Until he stops feeling quite so overwhelmed and emotional. He growls internally at himself for being ridiculous but... He hasn't had a lot of experience with pleasure in his life, and to have it come directly from the part of himself he so often loathes?

Well, if First Aid had his empathic ability, he'd be practically drowning in gratitude.

As it is, he just mumbles against First Aid's neck. "M'fine." A pause. "...Thanks."

First Aid knows he probably should be more concerned about his health. The thought that the mech's sharp teeth were so close to his neck or that Rampage could kill him with a twitch of his arms doesn't really cross his mind though.

With closed chest plating the pleasure coursing through his field would be muted to most, but Rampage was different and still bared to him. His own spark aches deeper with sympathy the longer the mech holds him.

"It's okay to enjoy pleasure."

He couldn't see or move much, blinded and restrained by the bulk of Rampage's frame, but he touches what he can, petting over the panels slow and softly.

"I haven't... had much," Rampage says. Especially not pleasure that wasn't derived from the suffering of others.

Bit by bit, he loosens his grip on First Aid, relaxing from his soft touches. Hesitantly, he leans in, brushing his mandibles against his forehead.

First Aid's arousal is still pulsing against his spark, hot and tangy and it makes him groan, his own pleasure rising again. His spike stirs between his legs and he shifts at the strange sensation.

Rampage was usually so moody and angry. This was a side of him that made First Aid's spark flutter to see. Needless to say, he was a little smug with himself.

"That tickles," he mumbles as the mandibles brush against his forehead, his visor squinting slightly. It made the broken filaments inside shift, sounding like soft bells.

All of Rampage's squirming has First Aid trying to look over his shoulder, but held against the mech's chest he couldn't get a good angle. He starts asking a few half questions, trying to find if the mech's spike was out, until he just decides to move his legs to try and find out.

Rampage gives an amused rumble, tilting his head down to wiggle his mandibles against First Aid's face. He hasn't felt this downright good and relaxed since before Transmutate died. And he's never felt this physically satisfied ever.

The chiming of broken filaments almost has him asking a bit more after just what went down before First Aid found him, but he's distracted by the brush of feet along the length of his cord. It startles a groan out of him, feeling far better than the time in the facility when he'd coaxed his limp spike out of its casing trying to figure out what it was for.

First Aid has to be pretty careful not to kick Rampage in the spike as his foot finds the hardening girth; he almost does, startled slightly when the mech groans. He stills, too afraid if accidentally hurting the mech, but laughs at the scritch of mandibles against his face.

"Are you getting hard?"

Well, he knows he is, but he wants to hear Rampage say it.

"Mmm, yes?" There's a pressure in his spike that he's never felt before, throbbing in time with the soft pulsing of his spark.

He lies back again, one hand shifting to lightly rest on First Aid's back. His other hand quests downward to stroke curiously over his stiffening length, making him suck in a sharp intake.

This is so much different than before. His spike is much more sensitive, not to mention larger, thick and hard against his palm.

The slick sound of Rampage's hand curling around his spike and manipulating the delicate plating on the stiffening organ makes First Aid shiver, his spark pulsing with need. Pressure pools in between his legs, throbbing in his closed panels, and he curls against the mech's chest, groaning.

"Let me feel it? Rub it on my legs or face or something."

Rampage stares down at First Aid curiously, his hand slowly stilling on his spike. The medic's need prickles hard over the surface if his spark, intense with their chests so close together.

He lets both of his hands fall to his sides, leaving First Aid free to slide down and do as he pleases.

"Do what you want," he says, voice warm. After giving that pleasure, Rampage is happy to give First Aid whatever he asks for.

First Aid makes a delighted sound when Rampage's hands fall away and he wastes little time with popping his panels open. The lubricant that had started to pool in his port drips in a thick glob from the rim, and his hand curls around his own cord, giving it a squeeze and a rub that makes a little bead of fluid gather at the vent on the tip.

He lets himself slide back, careful not to scrape, until his aft bumps against the the hot, slick length. First Aid makes another sound, just as delighted as before and slips the dripping rim of his valve against the base, smearing the lubricant thag had gathered before he slides to the side.

"Oh wow, what a thick piece of equipment," he purrs, shifting on Rampage's lap so the spike was between him and the mech's stomach instead of beneath him. He leans forward, tracing a brightly glowing biolight with his tongue. "You've gotten this big all for me?"

A little soft 'oh' escapes Rampage as First Aid bares his array, fixating on the drip of lubricant on his plating and the sight of First Aid's hand on his cord.

His spark gives an unexpected harsh throb of arousal as he drinks in the display. He hasn't realized just the sight of someone's equipment could turn him on. The diagrams in the text book had done nothing for him, but First Aid was... oh.

He desperately sucks in cooler air as First Aid's valve rubs against his cord, his hands lifting slightly with the urge to grab him. But the little medic is busy and Rampage doesn't want to interrupt, so he hands hover idly in the air, unsure where to settle until one of them settles on his bent knee and the other tucks in a fist against his mouth.

Watching First Aid intently, he hardly notices that he's whining softly as the medic settles behind his spike. His voice rises into a moan as First Aid's tongue runs over his length, and he barely manages to stutter out, "I, um, yes?"

While this was supposed to be sexy, First Aid is drunk enough that sex itself is hilarious and he spends a moment exploring the hard length in front of him, fingers following the trails of biolights and squeezing at engorged tubes. He brings the tip to his lips, traps it for a moment with a brief suck, then lets it slip free and bounce back.

At the moment, a bouncing cord is utterly hilarious to him.

"How am I going to fit this in me?" he wonders out loud, then hums thoughtfully.

His visor travels back to Rampage's face, looking at him for a moment as his own own charge coils tight in the pit of his stomach. First Aid can't take it anymore after a moment; he was restless with charge and the heady smell of lubricant and transfluid has him shifting in the mech's lap.

"You wanna feel how wet I am?"

Rampage grips his knee tight enough to make the metal creak as he watches First Aid play with his spike, optics wide and feeling like he might burst at any moment.

Green light washes over them from his open chest, brightening and dimming with each hard pulse of pleasure. Little noises of pleasure escape him and he practically aches with arousal as First Aid has his fun.

It's not going to fit, he thinks. First Aid is so very small compared to him, and his cord is no exception. He tries to say so, but he only manages a strangled groan.

He's not sure if it's the look in First Aid's visor, his question, or the heady twist of the mech's arousal against his spark, but a shock if his own arousal stabs through him, sending an early spill of trans-fluid out of his vents.

His only answer is to nod fervently.

"Oh!" First Aid makes another exclamation of delight as the fluid spills from the vents. Like a bug to nectar he leans back in and lets the spill run over his lips and into his mouth.

"You're going to be a gusher. I bet you have a lot stored up in here," he says after swallowing, his hands patting at the metal at the base of his spike where his tanks would be.

The medic shifts, getting on his knees in Rampage's lap, and spreads his thighs. Lubricant was dripping freely from him now, running in sticky rivulets down his thighs. He touches the mech's arm, then moves it to his valve and spreads the soft mesh open.

"Go on. You can touch."

Rampage is shuddering hard enough to make the rubble around him rattle, unable to stop wordless little whines from escaping his vocalizer. He can't keep his eyes off First Aid, optics bright and fixated on the medic's lips as he laps up Rampage's trans-fluid. He is beyond overwhelmed by now, every inch of his body aching with sweet pleasing heat.

He would pretty much do anything First Aid asked him to right now.

Taking a few heavy in-vents to steady himself, Rampage slowly lets his hand drop from his mouth in order to press thick, slightly trembling fingers into the slick space between First Aid's legs. The mesh is so soft against his fingertips and his fingers are almost immediately soaked and- And his body tenses as he almost overloads again right then and there.

First Aid braces for the gush of fluid against his stomach as Rampage tenses, but relaxes when it doesn't come. He rubs his fingers in slow, soft circles against against the mech's stomach, keeping his other hand cupped over the huge palm pressed between his legs.

"Yeah, just like that--" he vents hard, rocking himself against the heel of Rampage's hand. His exterior node grinds against the the smooth metal, making him shudder, charge coursing over his frame.

"You think you could make me overload?" He presses against Rampage's fingers, trying to coax him to curl a few so he can sink down on them.

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