[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

[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?