[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 squeezes his hand slowly, shifting on his crutches and sliding his fingers in deeper, stroking Cyclonus open with steady efficiency until he's buried in to the knuckle, his fingertips stroking lightly over and over against the terminus of Cyclonus' valve, against delicate sensors there.]

I'm doing quite well, thanks for asking. [Ratchet only sounds a tiny bit smug, but its friendly, his thumb rubbing absently against the side of Cyclonus'.]

[tsunclonus]

[The soft, steady touch is simultaneously deeply pleasurable and strangely relaxing, leaving him both limp on the medical berth and quaking with charge. His hand tightens rhythmically around Ratchet's in time with his strokes.

His vocalize clicks a few times before he resets it and manages to speak.] Your fans...

[Even with his own fans working hard, he can still pick up the telltale sign of Ratchet's rising charge.]

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet makes a soft, rumbling noise, almost a laugh.]

Have been going practically nonstop for days. I think you have more pressing concerns just at the moment. [His optics flare warm and he twists his wrist, dragging his fingers up along an undamaged line of sensors to curl deep in Cyclonus' valve, pressing to sensitive, rarely stimulated mesh.]

[tsunclonus]

[Cyclonus wants to say something about how he's not a doctor but he's fairly certain medics can overheat too, but that is entirely too many words for him to manage with Ratchet's skilled hands practically wrist deep in his valve.

Instead he arches with a moan--and a bit of a creak. He's getting too old for all this romping--then gives Ratchet a bemused huff when he resettles.]

[asafepairofhands]

[Ratchet smiles a little down at him—actually smiles, worn out and frustrated with charge and tired but warmly fond. He keeps his attention on Cyclonus, though, regardless of his own systems reacting to the soft sounds Cyclonus is making and the slick heat of his valve around Ratchet’s fingers.]

[His free hand stays in Cyclonus’, just letting him hold on as Ratchet works him open with ruthless, gentle efficiency, finding sensitive mesh and lingering against it. His optics are on Cyclonus’ face, though, just watching as he shivers and shifts against the slab, still almost alarmingly self-controlled despite his injuries and the charge swelling through him.]