robothell | [network post--marked urgent]

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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.

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[That's what he wanted to hear. No more words. Nothing so structured as that. Just Ratchet enjoying himself. Him unhinged. Something better for the poor guy. Of course, it's feeling pretty damn good himself, panting low and drawing out the sounds of Ratchet's name when he buries himself one last time, everything tightening and holding him there.]

[His own system overload hits a moment after Ratchet's, making him go rigid against and in him, hands all but digging into the wall behind him. It feels like a static explosion through every system and his knees want to buckle. But he holds on, holds Ratchet up, until it passes. His head bowed, pressing his forehead to the medic's chest.]

... you're. Real good at that.

[And making no move to pull away or out of him yet.]

Hah. You did all the work.

[Ratchet's voice is weak, still staticky, but he reaches in to coax Ironhide's head up, pressing slow, lazy, drinking kisses against his mouth for a long moment.]

S'good. [He doesn't really move away, his lips brushing Ironhide's as he speaks and a slow shiver dragging through him, making him tighten helplessly around Ironhide again and drawing a low, liquid moan from his throat.] Oh. M'comfortable, but feel free to put me down whenever you like.

Don't change anything.

[He doesn't need that much urging. Easily, willingly, returning the kisses. The needy, vibrating rev of his engine replaced with easy purring.]

[And then he chuckles a bit, before shifting him in his grip, managing to somehow maneuver them both down onto the bed, letting Ratchet lay on his chest. He probably should pull away from him, but, honestly, it feels too good to just lay down like this.]

How's... 'not for a long time' work for you?

[Ratchet makes a taut little sound as they ease down onto the berth, clutching at Ironhide a little and swallowing another moan before going limp and liquid, sprawled comfortably against Ironhide's greater bulk.]

Then you're going to be disappointed when I have to eventually go to cover a shift in the medibay. [He cycles his vents shakily.] ...the charge is going to eventually just come back, especially if we stay like this.

[In answer, he just makes little noises of his own, soothing ones, running his fingers up and down the other bot's plating, ending with a hand. One that he threads his fingers through, idly.]

Prob'ly. [He tilts his head a bit to look Ratchet in the face.] Yeah. Kinda figured.

You... want me to go?

[Ratchet shivers all over when Ironhide touches the sensitive plating of his hand, gripping his back briefly.]

Not what I said at all. [Ratchet's voice is low and ragged and warm, rich with lazy heat.] Just didn't know if you had to be doing something that wasn't fragging me until I can barely walk.

[The return grip makes him grin a little, and he resumes applying little bits of pressure to the hand he's holding.]

Heh. Just... wanted to make sure you wanted it. [The tilt of his head shifts, curling in to lightly press a kiss to his head.] I...

I don't have anythin' more important than you right now.

Well, I have no idea what part of my response was ambiguous or opaque, but-- [Ratchet's voice cascades into static as Ironhide strokes at his hand and he has to bite his lip to keep from moaning aloud, burying his face against Ironhide's chest. He rocks his hips, then tries again, muffling a frustrated groan against Ironhide's plating when he can't get any leverage.]

This would be a lot easier with two legs. [His voice rasps in his throat and he resists the urge to squirm, nibbling his lower lip.] Can't get any leverage like this. Doesn't seem fair to make you do all the work.

You know me. Always checkin'.

[Oh. He hadn't expected that reaction from just toying with hands. His grip shifts, enough to where he can press a kiss to the medic's palm. Long and slow. Though it's hard not to do anything else when he feels the other bot shifting atop him.]

Hhh. Could always... use these.

[He presses another few kisses to that hand, all along the palm, to the finger joints.]

Not when you're doing that, I can't. [Ratchet's voice is tight and he can't help himself--he squeezes down around Ironhide and muffles a desperate little noise in his throat at the slow, warm slide of lips against sensitive components. He clenches his free hand into a fist and just shivers there for long moments, venting raggedly.]

Ironhide, that's sensitive. [As though Ironhide could have somehow missed that fact, with Ratchet writhing around in his lap and Ratchet's spike pressurizing against his belly again.]

S'that mean you want me to quit?

[He says it around a grin, though. A grin and another kiss to that palm. To the tip of a finger. He almost nips at it with his teeth, though, feeling the sudden tightening around him. He can't help the little lift of his hips, though, a slow roll instead of the sharp jerk of before.]

Yeah, noticed. You... wanna roll over? Put it to 'use'?

No--yes--!

[Ratchet's voice crackles into static at the soft graze of Ironhide's teeth against his plating, clutching at him with his free hand and arching a little before he manages to scrape together his bearings.]

No, don't stop; yes, roll us over. Please. [The word sounds dragged out of him and he struggles for composure and self-control, a little embarrassed to have lost it even this much, even in front of Ironhide.] I'm going to last a completely pitiful length of time if you don't stop playing with my hands, just as a warning.

[He has to chuckle. Just a little. There's a lot of warmth to the sound. Warmth and affection -- so much affection. It shows in his face, too. The dumb smile on his face says that much, looking up at Ratchet like he's the one keeping the universe spinning.]

[This time, the kiss is for the other bot's mouth. Just as slow as the ones pressed to his palm.]

Don't matter to me how 'long' anythin' is. Jus' wanna see you enjoyin' yourself.

[But he does do as asked, slowly rolling them over so that he's atop the other. And then, only then, does he move to pull himself free, on his hands and knees above Ratchet.]

... wanna use your hands on me? Or your uh. Other hand there.

[He means 'spike'. Good euphemism, Ironhide.]

[Ratchet looks a little stunned at the look on Ironhide's face, pressing back into the kiss almost fiercely for a moment, holding him tight. He has to break off when Ironhide rolls them over to keep from biting his mouth, his head thunking back against the berth as he cries out softly, his whole body arching as Ironhide slips free. He slumps in place, already achingly pressurized again and his valve embarrassingly slick.]

I'm all yours. [His voice is only a little shaky as he stares up at Ironhide, open hunger in his optics.] Whatever you want.

[Mouth bites are probably a small price to pay for this. For being wrapped up with Ratchet like this. He makes an awkward sort of noise of apology, offering another kiss to mouth and neck for the trouble. His own body already feels hot again, energy and need tingling through his systems, seeing the way Ratchet looks. Hearing him say those words.]

[So he just nods. He wonders if he's flexible enough to take both of those invitations, laid bare for him. And decides on the one he hasn't attended to yet.]

[Still taking his time, still watching Ratchet's face with nothing short of open adoration, the bigger bot eases himself down onto the other's spike, hissing a bit through his teeth -- wow, it's been a while since he's done it this way.]

[Ratchet stares up at Ironhide as he shifts, easing himself down, the scorching heat of him closing around Ratchet as he shakes a little against the berth, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out. He can't look away from Ironhide's face, the clear emotion there, and he makes a needy, desperate little sound when their hips touch.]

Oh. [His voice is almost a sob, his hands clenching briefly into fists before they relax again and he just squirms a little, fighting the urge to thrust up as he watches Ironhide shift in his lap, his cooling fans screaming and his optics wide.] You're gorgeous. You look so good like this.

Edited 2015-08-17 07:07 (UTC)

H-hah. You're kiddin'...

[But it comes out breathless, ragged, around the stupid, admiring grin on his face. No sooner does he feel the pressure of the other bot against his valve, he shudders, his own body arching as his weight pulls him down to his knees, hip-to-hip. All but burying Ratchet in him.]

-- sorry. It. I'm. Little rusty. This way.

[Sure, he's a big, sturdy bot -- and sure, the proportions are what they should be. But damn if he hasn't used these parts in a while. He's a little surprised they remember how they're supposed to work. Makes Ratchet feel huge, like there's no room left to work.]

Should be tellin' you those kinds of things.

[Ratchet's lips part soundlessly as Ironhide's hips press down against his, pinning him against the berth as the rest of his body arches and his optics flicker out. He trembles under Ironhide for a long moment before his hands find Ironhide's thighs, stroking shakily before one hand slides in to curl gently around Ironhide's length and stroke. He manages to online his optics again, his vents heaving as he shivers all over.]

All right?

[He meant to do this so that Ratchet could do the work -- like he'd seemed to want to. But even so, his legs end up braced on either side of the other bot's hips, tensed and ready to move if need be. Just in case.]

[Then Ratchet's hand works and he shudders, twitching his hips, tilting his head back as the slightest contact makes him groan. Electric feeling flooding his systems.]

Yeah. Yeah it's. Really good.

Good. Oh.

[Ratchet shivers hard against the berth and fights to keep still--not that he can get much leverage with just one leg anyway. But his grip tightens and he strokes Ironhide harder, his optics bright and his teeth clenched tight on a helpless groan.]

[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.]

[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.

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.

[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.]

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oops i got sappy

UGHHH MY HEART

u welcome

LMAO WRONG JOURNAL

IT'S OKAY

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