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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

... So uh.

This mean you gotta. Check me out?

[HA HA HA ISN'T HE FUNNY. Also he's like literally outside the medbay to check on you buddy. Especially after uh. Running into Optimus.]

No, it means the exact opposite of that, you're going to be completely fine.

[...]

...but if you'd like to drop by, you're welcome to do so.

Oh.

In uh. That case. Knock knock?

[He says as he just up and knocks on the door. What a dork.]

[He jumps and stares up at the door, then tries not to look entertained.]

C'mon in, then.

[Ironhide just sort of rolls in. Or tries to. He tries very hard to look all composed and everything.]

Aren't you supposed to be like 'who's there'? And then I get to make a really bad joke?

[Normally, he'd have given his friend a little more personal space. But now he parks himself right up next to the medic, their shoulders brushing.]

I know that knock anywhere.

[Ratchet shifts his grip on his crutches and leans in against Ironhide's side, shivering a little all over.]

So you too, huh? ...you holding up all right?

Oh yeah? I'm all flattered.

[Oh. That uh. That contact. It sends what feels like electric shocks all the way down his frame. His hand moves, trailing slightly along Ratchet's arm.]

Yup. Me and Prime. [A shrug.] Dunno. Kinda feelin' a little off...

[His head tilts, to speak low and slow into the side of Ratchet's head, near his audio.]

... maybe need your prescription.

[IRONHIDE THAT WAS HORRIBLE.]

My 'prescription' is going to be a wrench to your head in a minute if you don't knock that off.

[Ratchet's voice is a growl, but he shudders when Ironhide touches him more deliberately, too-warm air hitching in his vents.]

You're either here as my patient or not--I'm not mixing the two up.

Hey, if that's your thing.

[He chuckles, though, genuinely amused by his own stupidity, despite the sex pollen problem.]

[There's a quiet huff though, when Ratchet doesn't pull away, stroking his hand, bending his head lower, to let hot air wash over the other bot's neck.]

If that's what the doc is orderin'... then I want it. [He hesitates a beat. Then, in a more sincere, almost uncertain voice:] I... kinda wanted it for a long time. Y'know?

[Ratchet looks briefly startled, his optics jerking up to Ironhide's before he turns his head, lips brushing the side of Ironhide's helm.]

Ironhide...

[Heat rakes through him again in a helpless full-body shiver, plating rattling together before he draws back.]

Not here. C'mon. [He takes a hard grip on his crutches and pulls away with an effort to lead Ironhide through a door through the supply closet of into a small room crammed with a berth, some extra supplies, and a few personal items. Has he been living here? Probably.]

[He sits down on the edge of the berth and rests his crutches against a stack of boxes, looking up at Ironhide.]

No fancy accommodations, but... this'll work, I trust? [He reaches a hand out.] ...c'mere?

[He gives him a sort of sheepish smirk, shrugging those big shoulders. If it weren't for whatever was going on... he probably would have kept that all under wraps. But now just -- it just seemed right to say.]

[Though he feels a very intense feeling of disappointment as Ratchet pulls away, he doesn't try to stop him. He just stands when he's told, following close enough to feel the heat of the other's frame, close enough to reach out a hand to steady Ratchet if need be.]

... Y'know there's other places to set up camp, right? You don't gotta do this.

[Yeah, he noticed. Even with the haze of the flowers, he's still Ironhide. His friends still come first. But he nods, stepping forward to take that hand, his fingers squeezing lightly along the joints.]

Ready to take the doctor's orders. [And yeah, he's grinning as he says it. Trying to coax a grin, despite the pulse of his systems, and the urge to shove Ratchet against that wall and--]

[No. Boundaries. Good things, those.]

[Ratchet does grin, but heat flares sharp and sudden in his optics when Ironhide squeezes his hand, tugging slowly, pulling Ironhide towards him.]

You're holding back. [Hoarsely.] Don't.

Yessir.

[It's low, growled out from somewhere deep in his chest, a vibration, more than words. He moves easily with the tug, free hand sliding across the surface, all but pinning the other bot against him. Heavier weight holding him down while he goes in for a long, slow kiss.]

[Slow and careful though that kiss might be, the press of his hips on Ratchet's sure isn't.]

[Ratchet draws in a sharp shock of cool air, his body arching as much as he can into Ironhide's solid bulk, a spasm of heat wrenching through him as he's pressed back. His teeth catch at Ironhide's lower lip as he grinds in and he jerks in surprise as his panel opens without conscious effort, pressing slick mesh to Ironhide's closed panel. Ironhide's mouth muffles his cry before he tips his head back and curses breathlessly, his hands closing on Ironhide's shoulders and his optics flickering bright.]

[There's no denying it anymore. No reason to. Whatever filters he's kept slammed into place in his mind -- in the interest of protecting his friend, or anything like that -- are gone. And all he can think of is how good it feels to make the other bot feel good.]

[All the more reason to keep going. Moving his mouth from Ratchet's lips down to his neck, alternating sharp nips and slow kissing. It's everything he has not to just pop his own panel and go to work immediately -- but. But he wants to make those good, muffled sounds last.]

[As tight and difficult as it is, it's not his spike, but a hand that finds Ratchet's equipment. First the palm, then rough fingers, tracing and pressing in slow circles.]

[Ratchet shivers fiercely as he feels the soft, almost hesitant slide of Ironhide's fingertips, his hips jerking helplessly and his head thunking back against the berth. He pushes down, a low noise jerked from between his teeth when Ironhide's scarred, pitted fingertips slide against a sensitive cluster of nodes. His thigh trembles and he presses his lips shut to keep from begging shamefully as his own hands wander with a certain easy familiarity, fingertips delving in between sensitive seams to stroke exposed wiring, the frame under his hands completely familiar to him, if new in this context.]

Teasing. [His voice is hoarse and he can't bring himself to look up into Ironhide's face.] Feels good. Don't stop.

Yessir.

[Another low, growled agreement. He doesn't stop, though, doesn't so much as hesitate. The heat against his hand, the sounds of Ratchet and how right this feels is just too much to so much as pause. His fingers curl, returning to that spot, pressing more firmly, sliding along it to delve a bit more deeply.]

[Anything to make him happy. Whatever he's missed... it's put too much wear on the bot he's holding against the seat and the wall. There's too much age here. The hands working his wiring earn a sharp, vibrating rev of his engine, enough to rattle walls and Ratchet alike.]

[Ratchet hisses and shudders as Ironhide's broad fingertips press right against that spot, stroking over and over as they spread Ratchet open and his thigh shakes. His fingers bite briefly into Ironhide's shoulders before slow hands slide up, cupping the underside of his helm and drawing him in to press hard, drinking kisses to his mouth, over and over, the firm, slick slide dragging something that's almost a whimper out of his throat.]

Hell. [His voice is rough, his mouth brushing Ironhide's as he speaks.] Close. Waited too long... [Choked static spills from his throat for a moment as he shudders, tightening around Ironide's fingers.] Ironhide please--

[He doesn't resist. Not a bit. As Ratchet's hands draw Ironhide's face towards his own, he only tilts his head for better access. Returning every moment of those kisses for as long as his hand slides back and forth, deeper for every motion forward. Finding an odd sort of rhythm between hand and mouth. As much as he wants to open up, and bury himself in the other bot, he wants this to draw out. To make this last.]

[The least he can do, really.]

[He finally pauses, leaning his head against Ratchet's as the other speaks, making quiet, hopefully encouraging sounds at the shuddering motions.] Yeah. Yeah, you got it.

[And then his hand slides all the way free, to join his other hand in hoisting Ratchet up by the hips, his back still pressed to that wall. A brief twitch of his hips pops his own panel wide -- not without a little hiss of discomfort, okay, maybe he had waited a bit too long -- and begins slowly easing Ratchet down onto himself.]

Edited 2015-08-14 00:18 (UTC)

[Ratchet makes a hurt sound when Ironhide pulls away, trembling on the edge, but a groan spills from his throat when he hears Ironhide's panel click aside.]

Yes. [His voice is almost a yelp as Ironhide lifts him, curling his leg around Ironhide's hip and digging his teeth into his lip as Ironhide slides against him, then in. It's achingly slow and Ratchet's head tips back as all of his patience shorts out at once and he shifts his hips to shove down hard, taking Ironhide deep all at once. The sudden, thick press drives the air from his vents on a moan and it only takes one hand wrapping around his spike to send him spinning over the edge, clenching down hard over and over as charge wracks him, making him shake helplessly in Ironhide's grip.]

[He's shivering and sensitive when sensation stops wringing him out like a rag, but the broad stretch of Ironhide pressed into him still feels good and he leans limply on Ironhide's chest, clutching at him with his free hand.]

Don't stop. [His voice is thick and gravelly in Ironhide's ear, still popping with static.] Don't hold back, c'mon.

[He almost chuckles at the little sound, but holds it back, opting for a shhh sound instead. Hard to do much else when you're moving in for a kiss while adjusting your partner.]

[Maybe he should have planned this out better. A lot better. But it doesn't matter, because suddenly, all there is to feel is Ratchet on and around him, and there's so much pressure dragging down his length he can hardly process it. He grunts, growling out something that's probably equal parts approval and caution. He could hold him up here like this forever, feel him like this forever...]

[Instead, he just braces himself, keeping steady as a rock while Ratchet jerks and goes rigid in his grasp, his mouth pressed to the other bot's chest, his own ragged panting fogging the chestplate until it's done.]

[He has no intention of stopping yet. But still, the encouragement, the urging, is good to hear.]

Anythin'. Anythin' you want.

[With his hands flat to the wall, he starts to pull out. Only to press back in again, groaning at the feel of it. Building up the pace.]

[Ratchet groans thickly, overload leaving him limp and languid in Ironhide's grip as his mouth finds the taut cabling of Ironhide's throat, pressing lazy, nibbling kisses there as he focuses on the wet slide pressing him open and the heat of Ironhide's frame against his own.]

You're awfully accommodating. [His voice is warm and rich, thrumming with heat as he noses as the lower edge of Ironhide's helm, nipping there lightly.]

How I like it.

[That's how he likes doing this. Being the accommodating one. The one to do what everyone needs. He's always been like this -- pollen-drugged or no. If anything, the damn pollen just makes that urge stronger.]

[He groans again, focusing only on the feeling around him, on keeping the motion steady. Even if he can't help but pick up the pace, jerking his hips more rapidly.]

Really.

Not surprised.

[Ratchet buries his face against Ironhide's shoulder and tightens down deliberately, a hard shiver running up his spinal strut as he focuses inward, feeling charge build again in the wake of his earlier overload. He wraps one arm around Ironhide's neck and strokes himself with his free hand, feeling himself clench down tighter around Ironhide as his core temperature spikes again, back arching, lips parting.]

Good. [His voice is breathless with static.] Harder, then.

[He feels that sudden, rapid tightening, and responds with a growl mingled with a gasp, shuddering, bucking, into him. Fine. If that's what his partner wants, then...]

[One hand leaves the wall, securing his arm around Ratchet's waist for better leverage. He picks up his pace, feeling his own internal heat rapidly build, roughly jerking in and out of the tight pressure. Still panting, fog clouding Ratchet's chest with each exhalation.]

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