robothell | [network post--marked urgent]

Entry tags:

ratchet | asafepairofhands

[network post--marked urgent]

Hello? Yeah, all right, it looks like this thing is on.

[The vid flickers on and Ratchet's face fills it, somehow more exasperated and peeved than usual.]

Look, public service health announcement, stay away from the damn stupid flowers that are popping up everywhere. They're releasing a pollen that's hyperconductive that causes an allergic reaction in both organics and inorganics. Nobody's going to drop dead, unless you're set on being a medical miracle and being the first to die of overcharge, but if you're affected, for goodness' sake, be careful until it wears itself out. If you don't release the pent-up charge or whatever periodically it's possible you'll overheat.

If you absolutely need medical assistance, I'm going to be at the first medibay trying to figure out more precisely what the fresh smelting hell is going on.

Ratchet out.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[Once more he arches up, hips moving into that tugging hand, and sliding up and down along the other bot's length. It's almost too much. External and internal stimulus. He doesn't even try to hold back the groan of approval, or the way his whole body shudders, easing himself back down onto Ratchet's hips.]

I've had sex with, like, two people.

[Did you want to know that, Ratchet? No? Well now you do anyways!

Spinister obediently sits himself down on whatever it was Ratchet wanted him to be on, watching Ratchet go about getting the sample tubes like a some kind of huge, magenta hawk.]

What, this week, or ever? [A pause.] Don't answer that, I'm joking.

I'm just going to draw some energon, all right? Give me your elbow, please. [He reaches for Spinister, his hands slow and clearly visible, leaning hard into his crutches.]

I thought you said you weren't affected, though. Or were you just helping out?

[The smell of lube and the press of wetness against his thigh put a sudden urgency into Sixshot's movements. His teeth and tongue find Ratchet's proffered throat, one hand clamping down on the medic's thigh, the other cradling Ratchet's chest.

Sixshot shifts, drawing back, his length leaving a wet line down Ratchet's back and aft- until the blunt head slides against the slickness of the medic's valve. He bites down harder then, pushing into the hot clench of Ratchet's frame.]

[Ratchet cries out, full-throated and rough with static, his head falling back against Sixshot's chassis as he's dragged down and filled. His whole body jolts when Sixshot bites down again, his valve tightening helplessly before he forces himself to relax into the aching stretch, his mouth falling open and his spike painful against his belly. He ignores it for now, focusing on the intense sensation of being held open, his body rippling in a futile attempt to clench down around Sixshot's spike as he whimpers, his free hand sliding up to cup the side of Sixshot's face.]

[Ratchet, don't you want to know all the minute details of Spinister's sex life? Because he was totally about to tell you everything.

Lifting his arm out for Ratchet, the heli watches the way the Autobot medic leans onto his crutches.]

Helping. I'm pretty good with the hand jobs.

Charitable of you.

[Ratchet takes the samples he needs and sets them in for analysis, then collapses into a stool and pointedly ignores the soft roar of his fans.]

Thank you for doing this. [His voice is sudden and he looks up into Spin's face.] I appreciate it, I mean it. I know it's rough, coming in here and letting an Autobot poke at you, but it could really help us out.

[It was like his whole world had suddenly narrowed down to this, to Ratchet, to liquid pleasure pooling like molten lead under his abdominal plates. Sixshot sinks to knees, dragging Ratchet down with him, impaling the smaller Autobot on his cord so deeply that the blunt head was jammed into the very end of his valve by the time their hips met, fluids dripping down his thighs.

He turns his head, tongue against the palm of Ratchet's hand as he starts rolling his hips in slow, grinding thrusts, the hand on the CMO's thigh sliding up to glide over his erect spike.]

Edited 2015-08-20 03:15 (UTC)

[Ratchet jolts helplessly at this new onslaught of sensation, his optics widening and his lips parting softly. Sixshot's tongue against his hand makes him clench down hard around the thick length inside him, which makes him cry out, and his whole body bucks when Sixshot's firm, broad grip closes around his spike. The sound he makes is almost a snarl when Sixshot drags out and then back in, scrabbling at the floor with his free hand, overload already shockingly close.]

Sixshot! Sixshot, I'm--

[Ratchet makes a warm, needy sound as Ironhide sinks back down, his voice shaking when he speaks.]

Go as slow as you want. Youu feel so good.

[Spinister doesn't reply for a good moment, optics narrowing with something like suspicion. But it was only for a moment and the expression changes into something like amusement.]

Eh, you guys aren't so bad. I'm living with the guy who wants to kill my whole damn team because we harbored some other guy who'd been convicted of cowardice but he survived his sentence because he was too scared to transform into a bomb when he was dropped a few million years ago but we didn't know that when we woke him up trying to siphon some fuel from his fuel pump.

[Breath.]

It's complicated.

Heh. Not. Used to hearing that one...

[But he won't complain. If the first time was fast and hard, he has no issue taking this one slower. So he does, shuddering, groaning at the way he feels the other bot move through him. It's. Really good. Why doesn't he do this more often?]

Like hearing you. Like this. Like you -- [His voice breaks into static as Ratchet drags over a particular sensor.] -- happy.

[Sixshot pushes Ratchet down, holds him down, weight on the arm wrapped around the medic's chest, tongue between red fingers. He doesn't decipher his name when Ratchet cries it, but the urgent writhing and the tight clench of his valve drives the Sixer to move with a low, muffled growl.

The thrusts come faster and harder, the hand on Ratchet's spike quickening in tandem with the rhythm, thumb sliding roughly over the sensitive head.]

[Ratchet bites his lip to muffle a wrenching cry as he overloads so hard his vision shorts for a second, feeling charge flash through him over and over in swamping waves. He's left shivering in Sixshot's grip once he's done, still pressurized and sensitive and aching where he's stretched around Sixshot's thick spike, his valve still squeezing down in helpless, rippling little spasms as Sixshot drives into him. The arch of his back, the way Sixshot has him pinned with his aft in the air and his legs spread wide makes him go limp, the pressure inside him dragging just right over aching sensors, already building charge again as he shivers there, biting at the knuckles of his free hand as he clutches at the nape of Sixshot's neck.]

[Ratchet snorts a warm laugh.]

Yeah, well, we try. [He blinks a little, startled.] You know a K-Con? One whose payload didn't blow? That's... [He almost says 'lucky,' then reconsiders.] Good for him, that he bumped into you.

[Ratchet's fingers stop as Ironhide's vocalizer cuts out, finding that same sensor and rubbing against it over and over, stroking gently.]

Ironhide... [He makes a suffused sound and has to turn his face away, offlining his optics and shivering helplessly all over as he bites his lip, embarrassed. He doesn't know what to say to something like that so he just tightens his grip on Ironhide and rolls his hips up as best he can, fans working, his one good thigh trembling hard.]

H-hey. Don't do that... lemme see you?

[Because nothing kills the mood faster than thinking you've done something to upset your partner. At least for him. The whole looking away thing says that to him. Enough to where he goes still, even when Ratchet's hips roll up into him, hitting something deep and sensitive, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from crying out.]

[More like that and he'll end up in system overload sooner rather than later.]

[Ratchet's overload makes Sixshot falter with a gasp, the excess charge from the other mech's overload rippling over his armor and the squeeze of the medic's valve walls putting a new urgency into his movements. Without fingers to keep his mouth occupied with, the Sixer's tongue and teeth find the back of Ratchet's neck instead, biting hard enough to leave marks-

And oh, it was about the time for Ratchet to discover the knot quickly swelling at the base of Sixshot's cord, wasn't it?]

Kind of! Like I said, if he hadn't woken up at the time he did, we'd have cut him up for scrap after I'd disabled his payload. He was going to be the find of the day!

Buuut he was alive and he lied to us and got the DJD on our tails, but he made up for it by trying to blow himself up to save us. It was hilarious.

[Ratchet looks up, startled--then shoves up onto one elbow and curls a hand around the back of Ironhide's helm, dragging him down to press hard, fast kisses to his mouth, over and over, shivering helplessly.]

Don't stop. [He speaks right against Ironhide's mouth, not bothering to pull away.] It's good. S'okay. Just--don't stop.

[Ratchet's cry hitches up into a thin, binary whine as he feels the swelling just inside his valve's entrance, a hard, thick stretch that would have been painful if he wasn't still so charged. He curses, staticky and breathless, writhing in place and tipping his head forward to give Sixshot more room for his teeth, his optics wide and blind. He reaches down between his legs to feel where Sixshot is pushing him open, digging his teeth over his lower lip as his fingers trace the base of Sixshot's spike and the huge knot just above it, feeling where he's pulled taut, almost too much. His fingertips brush his anterior node and he feels his valve try to clench down, hard and helpless, another sound dragged sharply out of his throat as he claws at Sixshot's shoulder and stares blindly where his fingers disappear between his legs, his whole frame heaving with the force of his cooling fans.]

Sixshot... [His voice shakes with nervousness and arousal, but he's too far gone to try to get away, just rocking gingerly in place and actually whimpering a little as he feels the massive shift inside him.]

Lucky for him twice, then, if he--

[Ratchet stops mid-sample-gathering and stares up at Spinister, then jerks his optics back down to finish quickly and patch the small puncture in the line.]

Wait, you disabled his payload? Do you have any idea how difficult a surgery that's supposed to be? They're rigged to go off if tampered with, that's the only reason K-Cons stick around to get tossed out of shuttles in the first place!

[The surprised little noise from him is half-relief, half-need, and he presses back into the kisses, urgently, his hips squirming and rolling into Ratchet's. Barely pulling back enough for proper internal friction.]

Won't. Not going to leave you -- [His voice is gasping, harsh. And utterly sincere.] -- don't want to.

[Not again.]

[The look on Ratchet's face tells Sentinel exactly what he thinks of Cybertron's grand plan for them to all screw each others' paint half off.]

Uh-huh. Well, I'll let you know if I come up with anything from the data. We have a trained epidemiologist on staff here, too, but we'll see.

Ironhide.

[Ratchet curses, his voice choked as he slumps back again, his optics soft and almost stunned on Ironhide's as they lock on his face, hands settling at Ironhide's thighs and squeezing. They actually shake as he reaches in and curls one around Ironhide, stroking gently and biting his lip. Light spills briefly from his optics before he offlines them and arches, shuddering hard all over.]

Close--

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 6 of 12

[network post--marked urgent]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject