robothell | ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

The sensation of First Aid fucking himself on Rampage's fingers is incredibly distracting, if not just from the tight, warm squeeze and shift against his plating then from the sparks of the medic's pleasure it sends dancing against the surface of his spark, making the green beneath the surface swirl and writhe like a living storm.

"Oh," he says, voice hoarse as soft lips curl around his thumb. It might as well have been his spike First Aid was sucking for all that the motion makes his cord stir and repressurize.

"I, uh, no," he manages to stutter out as First Aid's tongue takes a parting swipe and his moan sends a shudder shaking down Rampage's spine.

Dammit, he's usually more eloquent than this.

As drunk as he was, First Aid still found it in himself to be impressed by Rampage's rebound time. Maybe it was part of his making, or his youth, or his experience; whatever it was, it wasn't any less delightful.

"Sweet Primus, aren't you a gift?" he breathes, fingers brushing up the slick underside of Rampage's hardening spike. "All ready to go again!"

Just touching the warm, wet metal plating makes his valve twitch, squeezing the fingers in him. He shudders, lubricant dripping down his thighs as he shifts on Rampage's fingers, trying to steady himself enough that he can reach a shaky hand toward's the mech's face.

"You wanna overload inside me? Watch it drip out, down my thighs..."

He pulls his hand away from Rampage's spike and wraps it around his own, stroking up it in slow, firm tugs until it was hard and twitching in his palm. First Aid makes some soft sounds, biting his lip as his hand slides up and down his cord, wrist twisting.

It's all of the above, really. He's young, inexperienced, affection-starved, and has a lap full of a scorching hot medic who really seems to know what he's doing regardless of his drunkenness.

Rampage whines happily, as much at the compliment as from the soft touch on his spike, and his fingers twitch reflexively at the warm squeeze of First Aid around him.

He leans forward to meet First Aid's touch, hungry for more gentle affection, and he groans loudly as the medic speaks, painting a delightful image clearly in his mind.

"Yes." That sounds amazing.

His optics and spark both blaze bright as he watches First Aid jerk himself to full hardness. Inside First Aid, his fingers wiggle playfully, while his other hand hovers over the smaller mech's spike, wondering if he should touch.

First Aid curls his fingers over Rampage's cheek, tugging him down a bit more to bump his lips against the mech's maw, his back arching and tensing as the fingers shift inside him. It feels so good. He doesn't even remember the last time he was so full. First Aid vents pull in a shuddering gust of of air, his plating steaming as coolant evaporates off him.

"Mmn--" The medic is a bit lost for words at the moment, too caught up in the shiver of charge crawling up his spine. He feels hot, his armor prickly like it was vibrating at a frequency indiscernible to outside perception.

"Touch me," he murmurs lips falling against Rampage's chest, peppering kisses along the edges of the folded back armor. If anything, he wanted to encourage the crab mech to explore.

It takes a moment for the medic to move his weight to his shaky knees, pulling himself up from Rampage's fingers slowly. He whimpers, his port clenching as he's emptied. He clutches at the red armor under him, then reaches for Rampage's twitching spike, fingers stroking down from tip to housing.

"So, so big. You can't mass shift it at all?"

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.

"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?"

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."

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."

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.

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..."

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.

First Aid curls his arms around Rampage's neck when he's pulled higher, his venting stuttering. His valve was still sensitive from the failed penetration, still a bit sore, but the gentle stroking has him clenching as he groans into the larger mech's neck.

Lubricant drips from his valve and smears onto Rampage's fingers and plating-- his opening is so hot, and the soreness from the stretch is complicated from his burning need to be filled.

He's shaky as he lifts his head, placing a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss against the crab mech's faceplates. First Aid strokes his hands over Rampage's shoulders, his legs spreading as he rocks back against the fingers rubbing against his nodes.

"Lay me down and get between my legs."

"Mm," Rampage answers, sitting up slowly. He curls one arm protectively around First Aid, the other hand continuing to gently tease his outer array. He searched for a good place to put First Aid down, settling on a fairly flat piece of broken wall.

He wipes the metal free of debris with a lubricant-slick hand then carefully sets First Aid down on it. He leans over the little mech, optics bright and wondering, venting heavily.

First Aid clutches tight to Rampage searches around for a flat and clean space to set him down, his face pressed against the rounded chest armor to muffle soft sounds of pleasure. He's warm, so hot, and the sensation of pressure builds in his pelvic array as his charge builds.

The metal is almost shockingly cool against his back when he's placed down. He gasps, back arching, and he twitches when he settles again. Slowly, he moves his thighs away from the mech's hips and draws them closer together, keeping Rampage's spike caged between his legs.

"Like this, then you can overload wherever you want too," he murmurs, placing small hands over the head of the cord and pressing it flat against his belly. With Rampage's hand in the way he can't push it to the folds of his valve, but he hopes he gets the picture.

"Like fragging me, but not inside."

"Oh," Rampage moans as First Aid's thighs close around his cord. He gives an experimental thrust, rubbing firm over First Aid's belly and array, and his optics practically flicker offline. This is a very good alternative.

His hand stills for a moment as he enjoys the sweet friction with a few long, hard thrusts. Groaning softly, he rubs a fingertip against First Aid's valve opening, and asks, "Mm, want something in...?*

It's not the first time he's been too small for a mech to fit in, and this is almost as good. His venting stutters as Rampage's cord slides between his legs, grinding up against his exterior node and over the underside of his own spike. It twitches against the wet length rubbing against his own, dripping a small bead of fluid on his already messy belly.

"Please!" First Aid gasps, arching against the fingers brushing teasingly light against his opening.

His valve clenches and a fresh, needy drip of lubricant leaks out. If he can't be filled by a spike then the offer of something sounds wonderful.

Edited 2015-07-20 00:45 (UTC)

First Aid feels amazing against his spike, the sweet friction offset by the slick lubrication First Aid has been leaking copiously, the change in texture from valve to spike and back, the pressure of his smooth thighs... It's easy for Rampage to fall into a steady rhythm, thrusting hard forward and dragging back slowly, savouring the sensation. It drags sounds from his vocalizer, half-growl, half-moan.

Before he gets too distracted rutting between First Aid's thighs, he rubs his finger harder, circling around First Aid's entrance before sliding in and thrusting, the rhythm quickly matching that of his rocking hips.

"Mm?" he asks, not quite able to form words well enough to ask if it's good.

Primus, Rampage is a quick learner. Probably just the base programming that came with the equipment directing him to rut though. Whatever, First Aid found it good enough to gasp and arch under the huge mech as his cord slides between his legs, making a sticky mess of his playing.

His calipers clench around Rampage's fingers, rippling as they push deep, and First Aid's visor streams tears of light as he squirms and bucks beneath him. His hands, which had been clawing uselessly at the ground curl to stroke and rub the head of the crab mech's cock as his hips grind forward.

"Harder!" he moans, his own spike throbbing between his belly and Rampage's heavy cord. "Oh, Primus. You feel so good."

ROOOOOBOT PROOOOM

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