[network post--marked urgent]

[asafepairofhands]

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.

Comments

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet moans, arching into First Aid's touch as his optics flats with heat and surprise.]

An invitation, I supposed. [He gets his covers opens then hesitates, watching First Aid's face. He steals another quick kiss..] ,,,here. All right. [His spike pressurizes immediately, his valve clenching as he rocks against First Aid's.

...what would you like? You were the one with that damper on all day.] You were the one with a damper on all day--your call just now.

[lifepersists]

I'm here, isn't that enough?

[ Leaving him to make a difficult decision here when he's a hot mess, Ratchet. First Aid was a fan of having his valve filled, though he didn't want to assume Ratchet liked spiking best.

Now if they were in his room, he might have something that would benefit both of them-- ]

I have an idea.

[ With some reluctance he pushes himself up onto his hands and draws away from Ratchet's lips, though he fits in a parting kiss before he slides back. Gently, he takes Ratchet's bad leg and lifts it over his hip, then leans back so the slick mesh of his valve slides up, up Ratchet's thigh and then meets the older medic's wet opening. It's a little awkward, and he has to shift a few more times to find a position that's comfortable for his spike, but once they fit into place his venting hitches. ]

Yeah, I think this will-- [ First Aid hums as if untangling some wires, then rocks his hips in a circular motion, his valve sliding against Ratchet's exterior nodes. ] This good?

ohhh my god i have NO IDEA what happened to that last tag IM SORRY

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet draws in a sharp vent of air as First Aid's hips press in against his, the slow, liquid slide making him arch helplessly with what little leverage he has.]

Yeah. Very. [That's about as eloquent as he's getting just now, when he's finally stopped ignoring the charge racing through him, but he does reach down to curl slow fingers around First Aid's spike, stroking in time with the movements of his hips as best he can as he squirms against the berth.]

[lifepersists]

Nnh-- [ First Aid gasps, his visor flickering as Ratchet's hand curls around his spike. His rhythm falters, his hips jerking harder against Ratchet's. He has to pause for a moment to vent, sucking cool air into his frame, and he presses his hand heavy on the elder medic's side. ]

Cheating.

[ He squeezes his thighs tighter, pressing it against Ratchet's anterior node. He leans back, putting more pressure against Ratchet's valve as he grinds his lips against his, smearing lubricant against their thighs. He moans loudly, a fresh bead of fluid squeezes from the tip of his cord and rolls over Ratchet's hand. ]

Let me take care of you.

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet laughs, warm and staticky, squeezing teasingly at First Aid's length and stroking a little faster.]

Not used to being taken care of. [His voice is rough as First Aid pushes in harder, a shiver working down his spinal strut.] And you sound so good.

[lifepersists]

[ First Aid's venting is ragged as Ratchet pumps his spike faster, just barely hanging together by some shreds of willpower. His visor was glowing almost white, the charge coursing through his frame over powering his systems, and coolant beads on his frame as it strains to control his temperature. ]

Fragging stubborn, Ratchet.

[ He reaches between their frames and circles his thumb over the older medic's swollen node, rubbing it in quick, firm patterns with the rocking of his hips. Just a bit of revenge. The grinding is a little more frantic now, pressing the mouth of his valve in a harder grind against Ratchet's, crushing their lips together. ]

Can I-- can I try something?