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.

[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.

[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.

[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."

[knightlite]

Wing kneels in front of him, touching Cyclonus' shoulder gently before he presses, smoothing Cyclonus down onto his back on the berth.

"You have it," he says simply, draping himself over Cyclonus and running light fingertips along his jaw, leaning in to press slow, hard kisses against his mouth, fitting one thigh between Cyclonus' and grinding in hard. his hands wander, seeking sensitive places as he makes a needy little sound into Cyclonus' mouth, nibbling at his lip before pulling back, looking flushed and dazed. "It's yours. What do you want?"

[tsunclonus]

This all seems very surreal, more like a fever dream from his overheated mind than something actually happening.

But there's a figure laying him softly down, pressing close, so sweet and gentle compared to what he's used to. He'd laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he's too busy moaning into Wing's kisses as a hard thigh grinds against his panel.

He lets it open, baring himself for a stranger, hot and hard and wet and needy.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. It's been a long time since he's done this. Longer still since it's been on his terms rather than offering himself to the needs of another. Before Galvatron was so very long ago...

[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]

Wing sucks in cool air as his thigh presses to wet heat and he moans, low and sweet and trembling. A shudder wracks his frame as he pulls away, staring hungrily down at Cyclonus for a moment, drinking in the sight of him spread and bare and shivering with need before he pushes Cyclonus' thighs farther apart, settling between them.

"All right," he says, his voice almost gentle through the rough static, his optics flicking up to Cyclonus' face before his lips curl into a smile. "You let me know if you have any suggestions. In the meantime..." He leans in, lips parting to close wet and soft around Cyclonus' cord, pressing down easily and swallowing around him as he pins Cyclonus's hips, humming thickly and sucking hard.

[tsunclonus]

Cyclonus is almost jealous of how much more in control of himself Wing seems. Even moaning and shuddering with need he seems more together than the quaking, aching mess Cyclonus finds himself in. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to resist so long...

He can hardly react as Wing smiles at him, then leans down, his mind slowly blanking out with desire as lips curl around his spike. The noise that tugs itself from his vocalizer is wild and animalistic as Wing begins to suck, hands moving almost of their own accord to grip Wing's helm.

Oh, how he needed this. Hips jerking against Wing's grip, he tugs at his helm, urging him on with a growl.

[knightlite]

Wing tries to be patient--Cyclonus is running far hotter than he is, clearly unused to not having control of himself, and Wing does genuinely like doing this, spreading his partners out and pleasing them--it's usually one of the things that gets him revved up the fastest. But the noises Cyclonus is making erode his tight self-control until he's squirming as he sucks, leaking from his still-closed panel and trying not to choke as he makes thin, needy sounds back around Cyclonus' spike. When Cyclonus bucks up and clutches at him, the last few fragile threads of his control snap and he shoves back, vents heaving, his optics a little wild.

"Please," he gasps, pulling Cyclonus up and leaning in to bite at his mouth. He can't be more eloquent than that just now, but he makes a soft whimpering sound as he drags Cyclonus to his knees and turns, pressing his back to Cyclonus' chest briefly and hooking his fingers in the collar of Cyclonus' armor to drag him down with as he bends over. They end up with Wing pressed face-down with his panel open and Cyclonus' spike sliding against wet heat. Wing groans thinly as he abandons trying to hold himself up, pressing his palms and breastplate to the berth and rocking back against the thick slide of Cyclonus against him.

"Please!" he says again, sharp as a demand despite his spread, vulnerable position, pushing back needily. "Cyclonus, please, I need this too."

[tsunclonus]

Being dragged and tugged around in the berth is familiar to Cyclonus and he slips easily into following Wing's lead, egged on by the hunger boiling in him. Hearing 'please' in this situation, however, is completely foreign to him and he can't help but laugh, the noise a deep rumble as he leans down to bite at Wing's back.

He doesn't have it in him to tease, not with the ache of charge rampaging through his systems. Grabbing Wing's hips tight, he forces them still for a moment. Just long enough for the tip of his spike to find the entrance to Wing's port. Then he drags those hips tight against him, snapping his own forward to meet them with a ring of metal on metal, burying himself deep in the slick heat.

A ragged gasp of relief escapes him as his spike throbs inside of Wing. How he'd needed this.

[knightlite]

Wing sucks in a cool shock of air as Cyclonus' teeth scrape against his back, catching the leading edge of one wing. Sensation lances through him and the sound that's wrenched from his throat is almost a sob until it spirals up into a taut, shivering cry as Cyclonus shoves into him, pushing deep and spreading him wide open. His wings shiver and flare to half-extension as he bites at his fingers and pushes his forehead against the berth, optics wide and blind.

"Frag me," he half-snarls, pushing his hips back, his thighs trembling fiercely and his body squeezing tight around Cyclonus.

[tsunclonus]

Distracted as he is, it's a while before Cyclonus notices his tagalong. Stopping suddenly and spinning about to face her, he fixes Miria with a flat look.

"Why are you following me?"