Catch-All For Cyclonus!

[tsunclonus]

WHO: Cyclonus and WHOEVER
WHERE: Around the city
WHEN: Sex pollen time
WHAT: Cyclonus disapproves of your new plant, Cybertron. Open to both Smut and non-smut if anyone wants to talk to a sexually frustrated Cyclonus
WARNINGS: Smut. Probably some angry Smut.


[A - Beginning]

Cyclonus carefully brushes metallic plants off of the forum console and is rewarded by multiple silver blooms opening up and engulfing him in a cloud of spores.

Backing away quickly, his fans gust a heavy burst of air, trying to purge his systems of the contaminant before it can clog his filters. Like he needs any more dust to wash from his body.

In tune with his body, Cyclonus notices the effects immediately, the early spark of heat that denotes arousal. He grits his teeth. There is nothing arousing about this situation. In fact, he rarely finds anything arousing. And yet the warmth is spreading beneath his plating.

That plant. Putting more distance between himself and the offending flowers, Cyclonus glowers at them and turns to leave, planning to ignore the growing heat until whatever it is passes through his systems.

How hard could it be?


[B - Later]

Cyclonus banks sharply, narrowly avoiding colliding with the side of a building, then drops into a partially controlled fall, transforming at the last moment for a clumsy landing, stirring up clouds of rust and dust.

He leans heavily against a nearby wall, thoughts clouded with crude fantasies caused by the burning flame of arousal those infernal plants lit within him.

He shouldn't have waited. He shouldn't have trusted it to simply fade. And now he can't even concentrate well enough to fly. He craves contact so fiercely, he aches for it.

Legs weak, he forces himself upright and tries to head in the direction of the clinic.

Comments

B!

[system_dp]

Cyclonus isn't the only one who has taken to the skies in some desperate hope to stave off certain urges. As there is a small-ish red and white space-jet that happens to notice the Cybertronian's clumsy flight path and decides to see what's up. She waits until he's transformed and started moving before making her own move.

So just a bit behind him? Miria is also transforming and landing, the earth made robot being no taller than ten feet now, as she notes what direction he's headed in.

"The medics are not going to be much help, Cybertronian."

Re: B!

[tsunclonus]

Spinning to face her - and that certainly makes his head spin with excess heat troubling his systems - Cyclonus forces himself to stand tall, trying to maintain his dignity despite his current... Affliction.

He scowls down at the small creature - larger than a human, but still small compared to him. Some sort of mechanoid alien. Has he seen this one around before? He can't recall, his mind is so clouded...

"What?" he manages to ask, a growl slipping into his voice.

[system_dp]

Wow, he's looking mighty fierce when Miria gets to actually see Cyclonus' face. Which involves some looking up, gosh why are Cybertronians so big? And growly.

And other thoughts that Miria is trying to not focus on because, seriously this pollen is getting ridiculous.

"The medics aren't going to be able to fix the issue," she replies, trying to keep her voice level and monotone. "Unless the Cybertronian wants to engage in copulation with one of them."

[tsunclonus]

"Copu- No," Cyclonus says firmly, even as his body screams yes. He could 'thank' Ratchet for his part in curing Tailgate-

No. Stop that. He rubs a hand over his face trying to pull himself back to the matter at hand.

"You," he says, sharp red optics focusing on Miria. "You know something about this?"

[system_dp]

She sighs at his question, one of her body's way of getting rid of the excess heat that's been building up.

"Yes, Thi-- I know because it is also affecting me," she replies, her voice actually cracking when she says the word 'affecting'. It's getting a bit hard to keep herself focused.

[tsunclonus]

So it's not just Cybertronians being affected. Cyclonus's scowl deepens.

"That plant..." he growls, hand still pressed to his face. He resists the urge to let it drop lower, to trail over his lips and neck, to play with his vents and tease claws into gaps in his plating-

His hand flexes, the prick of claws in the soft metal of his face helping to ground him.

"Is this... thing everywhere then?"

[system_dp]

Oh Cyclonus, why would everyone but the Cybertronians be spared from this? Then again before this Miria didn't have so many issues related to these things.

Anyway, she watches him as he growls, shifting her own weight from one leg to the other in some attempt of her own to stay focused on the conversation.

"I would assume so, most Cybertronians I have encountered have been affected."

Hopefully that's the answer Cyclonus wanted to hear, or at least it's more helpful than not.

[tsunclonus]

"This is-" Cyclonus shifts restlessly, resisting the urge to pace. "This is ridiculous."

Clearly he needs to just get out of the city and away from people until it all blows over. He'll just... Find some place quiet. To meditate. And remind his body who's boss.

He'll just... Not fly to the outskirts. Flying didn't go well last time. He'll walk then.

Turning on his heel, he promptly begins to stalk away with all the calmness of a storm cloud.

[system_dp]

For a brief moment she considers just letting Cyclonus go off to sulk, but it's brief and also well. She knows that whatever he may try is probably not going to work.

So she's just going to follow him, like a quiet horny dog.

[knightlite]

Cyclonus nearly collides with Wing as he stumbles around a corner and Wing catches at his elbows, steadying him.

"Are you all right?" he asks, sounding startled, their bodies close and Wing's worried face very near Cyclonus'. "Are you injured?"

[tsunclonus]

Disorientation makes Cyclonus's head spin. There are metal hands on him, someone very near him. His lips part in a silent gasp with a surge of arousal at the proximity. His plating is hot.

Who...?

He tries to focus, pulling his control back together, jerking away from the hands - he wants them all over him touch him more - and standing stiffly.

"Drift?" The name slips out of him before he gets a better look at the other Cybertronian. It's not Drift. "No, my apologies."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and wills himself to focus.

[knightlite]

"It's all right," Wing says gently, but he doesn't reach for Cyclonus again, though his plating rattles in a hard shiver as Cyclonus pulls away. "I'm Wing."

He regards Cyclonus for a long moment before his lips tilt helplessly, his optics brightening. "You too, hmm?" he asks, his voice soft with static. "Can I--is there anything I can do to help?"

[tsunclonus]

"Cyclonus," he answers in turn, though he doesn't offer his hand. Now is not the time for politeness or handshakes, regardless of how much his libido wants to interlace his claws with this stranger's fingers.

He gets progressively stiffer as Wing stares at him, sending warm prickles up his back and making him clutch harder for control. And still the static in Wing's voice and the acknowledgment that he's also in this... predicament almost undoes it all.

Crossing his arms defensively, he says, "I am fine."

The crackle and strain in his own voice says the opposite.

[knightlite]

"I don't think anyone is particularly 'fine' this week," Wing says wryly, before he frowns a little, looking worried.

"...it doesn't go away if you just ignore it," he says quietly, his optics steady and bright on Cyclonus' face. "I tried. And it can be dangerous--you're already much warmer than you should be, and it will only get worse." He stops and nibbles his lower lip, not wanting to push but not wanting Cyclonus to damage himself either. "Are you--are you sure you wouldn't like a hand, Cyclonus? Even just some company? This can be... difficult to manage by yourself."

He does reach out, then, laying light fingertips on one of Cyclonus' elbows--earnest, but as unassuming and minimally invasive as possible.

[tsunclonus]

Cyclonus only gets more tense the longer Wing speaks. He refuses to give into these base, chemical urges, no matter danger. He refuses. He should turn and leave right now.

But he can't move. Not with another Cybertronian so close, offering him relief from the burning inside his body. His optics drift down to Wing's lips, a tremor going through him as he watches teeth press into soft metal.

The touch is the last straw, his control snapping like a cable under too much tension. With a growl, he practically tackles Wing, head pushing forward to try and mash lips against lips.

[knightlite]

Wing barely has a half-second to look startled as Cyclonus lunges for him before his instincts kick in. He coils like a spring and shifts, twisting in Cyclonus' grip to turn it back against him and holding on hard as he uses Cyclonus' momentum to spin them around and shove Cyclonus hard against the nearest wall, pinning him strategically to give him as little leverage as possible. He vents raggedly for a moment, his body pressed full-length to Cyclonus' and his array throbbing, the heat gathering in him suddenly much more insistent with the realization that manhandling Cyclonus would not have been nearly so easy if he wasn't this badly distracted.

Wing doesn't relax his grip, but he does lean in and press his mouth softly to Cyclonus, as soft and soothing as possible. "Not here," he murmurs, barely pulling away. "Somewhere private. Come on." He releases Cyclonus abruptly, still venting hard as he pushes the door to the nearest mostly abandoned building and pulling Cyclonus in with him and into the nearest room with a berth and a door.

[tsunclonus]

Cyclonus curses as he's slammed against a wall, pinned tight. He's cursing himself for losing control in the first place, for being so out of it as to let himself be pinned, for the way his body burns at every point of contact with Wing...

The softness of Wing's lips on his own silences him instantly, his optics dimming, the fight going out of him, leaving him pliable for Wing to drag into privacy.

He sits down heavily with a groan, feeling defeated. "I need this."

ignores ur prompts

[kidstoday]

Normally Galvatron had no time for traitors, but the changes occurring to Cybertron made him nostalgic for those his age. It reminded him of his youth, when Cybertron was still young and he still considered Megatronus a master as well as mentor. The planet's hotspots still ignited brightly, and in the Darklands it was not uncommon to feel amorous after watching and caring for a surge of new life.

Still, Cyclonus had left him after all they had endured together and eons of faithful servitude. Galvatron does not forgive, especially after a burn like that. His lieutenant had left him in the Dead Universe to rot, his body painfully and slowly re-making itself. He had made mistakes, he would admit, but he had been lead astray by the Heart of Darkness. His mind had not been his own. For that, Galvatron was bitter.

He knew the sound of Cyclonus's engines almost as well as his own. He'd held the mech's crumbling body in his hands in the Dead Universe and had enjoyed his close presence before that. Galvatron lifts his head to the dark purple jet streaking across the sky and scowls, debating just for one moment, before he jumps and the rockets in his feet take care of the rest, propelling him into air fast enough that he smacks into Cyclonus's altmode.

:3c

[tsunclonus]

Sorry, Galvatron. Cyclonus's first loyalty was always to Cybertron and you almost made him betray that. As far as he's concerned, he's not the traitor here.

As far as he's concerned, Galvatron shouldn't be able to fly either, not that rocket boots are really flying. More like aggressively punching gravity into submission. Either way, however, he's taken completely by surprise when something smacks hard and heavy into him. As if he wasn't distracted enough already. He was doing better after his encounter with Wing, but there was still a low heat blazing in him.

Unable to adjust fast enough to the impact, the purple jet promptly careens into the side of a building, punching through the wall. Transforming as he skids across the floor, he lets out a pained grunt as his back hits a support column, finally bringing him to a halt.

Well. That was unexpected. Venting dust out of his systems, he stares a bit dazedly at the hole he just entered through.

[kidstoday]

Nothing like colliding with a mech full force and sending him slamming through a building to get the energon pumping through his lines. As Cyclonus gathers himself inside the building, Galvatron floats his way up over to the hole, pressing one hand against the crumbling wall before setting one foot inside. With the rockets off, he has to pull his way in, but his expression is smug as he looks at his former bodyguard's optics.

"You seem distracted, Cyclonus. Your reaction time was better than this. Have you been spending too much time around these soft mechs?"

His own armor is barely even scratched, but he brushes at it anyway, pollen falling away from his vents as he flares them. He's not ashamed to be affected; if that was the planet's whim, then there was little he could do to protest, annoying or not.

[tsunclonus]

"Galvatron," Cyclonus snarls as his former leader steps through the hole he'd just created with Cyclonus's body.

Heat blazes through him like lava filling his fuel lines. Part of it's anger. Part of it is the pollen. But part of it is the attraction cultivated in him over millions of years that a few years apart can't have hoped to completely crush. It all mixes together in a potent burn, along with the sting of Galvatron's insult - how many times would others get the drop on him while this pollen sullied his systems?

His civility falls away quickly as he falls back into what he'd been twisted into by millions of years in the Dead Universe: a violent, savage thing barely restrained by a mask of calm conduct. This was not a good day for his sanity.

In a snap, he shifts from sprawling over the ground to a crouch, coiled like a spring. A split second later he launches himself at Galvatron, with a roar that's half engine and his claws bared.

[kidstoday]

Galvatron catches Cyclonus smoothly, a move practiced over millions of years of familiarity, sliding back towards the hole they had made in the wall. Even as the claws bite into his arms he pushes back, red light flaring from his optics and engine roaring, and as his turret scrapes the corner of the crumbling building he twists, twirling them both into another wall away from the plunge below.

"I can feel your need," he hisses. How he could, sharp against his field. "You should have come to me."

Galvatron scoffs at the thought of Cyclonus seeking relief with the youth. They wouldn't understand how to satisfy a warrior's desire. Their frames were old, touched by the Dead Universe, and yet-- he doesn't feel that taint in Cyclonus. It was possibly the first time he noticed the loss of connection with him.

That just makes him pissed off.

[tsunclonus]

Cyclonus face twists into a snarl, teeth bared like a wild thing as Galvatron slams him into a wall, making his frame flare with heat. He's not even sure there's a difference between his anger and arousal any more. Pain and pleasure have long blended at the edges for him.

Especially with the raw ancient power of Galvatron so close.

"I'm not yours anymore!" he snaps, even as the strong hands on his body, the dominance of Galvatron's field so close screams at him to submit.

With a hiss of rage, he lunges against Galvatron's hold and tries to fasten his teeth on his ex-leader's lower lip.

[kidstoday]

They've had their squabbles before. The Ark was not necessarily a peaceful ship-- too many old warriors, too proud, and one scheming hideous traitor of a mech. Galvatron enjoyed this side of Cyclonus in the same way he enjoyed war; anger heated his playing, made it ripple and flare, and the spill of blood was much like the spill of transfluid.

He snarls, reeling back slightly as his former second's fangs sink into the softer metal mesh of his lip. His mouth floods with energon, sliding down his thoat and over his lip, and pulling back makes the stab of pain worse.

He stops himself, revs his engine, and then presses forward instead, crushing his bloodied lips against Cyclonus's own, biting back just as hard. Galvatron shifts, his fingers leaving dents in the mech's shoulders as he shoves closer, trying to smother his body and field with his own.

Mine!

[tsunclonus]

The taste of energon stings Cyclonus's tongue, his own mixing with Galvatron's as teeth bite at his lips. Spills of glowing pink drip from his hollow cheeks to stain his chin and throat. His teeth only let up so he can gasp and run his tongue over torn mesh, continuing their violent kiss.

His shoulders ache as Galvatron imposes his strength on him, but Cyclonus refuses to yield. Galvatron is not his lord anymore, and his field flares back, pressing stubbornly against his former leader's even as his body presses welcomingly into Galvatron's. He raises his hands to rake long trails over Galvatron's helm and shoulders, his legs coming up to coil around Galvatron's waist, squeezing with fierce pressure.

He's on fire and his body blazes with his need.