robothell | [LAZIEST CATCH-ALL FOR SEX POLLEN]

Ambulon doesn’t answer. His hand rubs reassuring circles at Wing's lower back, urging him let go to take his pleasure. The medic'a fingers pick up their pace, thrusting and curling against the charge swollen mesh walls of his partner’s valve. The amount of lubricant that he draws on each pull is frankly obscene; but really it only makes Ambulon’s charge climb faster.

Slowly, he draws back from the spike twitching against his tongue, before engulfing him again in one smooth swallow, holding fast against his base-plate. He owes this to Wing; after all he is the one who interrupted him in the first place.

Wing buries his face against Wing's pelvic block near the base of his spike and bites his lip on a scream as he overloads, hearing it catch in his throat and ratchet up into a helpless, binary whine then fritz into static as though it was someone else's voice. His hips stay still as he shakes above Ambulon, feeling sensation wring him out like a rag over and over, his optics flickering and his hands closing convulsively on Ambulon's plating.

"Oh," he moans once it subsides and he's able to speak, vocalizer still crackling. "Oh. Ambulon..." He pulls out of Ambulon's mouth and manages not to shove his knee anywhere too critical as he turns himself rightway round again and half-collapses against Ambulon's side, pressing shaky kisses to his shoulder, his throat, the side of his face.

"That felt so good," he breathes, voice still shaky as he curls a hand around Ambulon and strokes, slow and hard. "Thank you."

Mayday has an armful of techo-organic plants for his deer, legs that feel like energelly in an earthquake, and a growing pool of lubricant behind his sealed interface panel.

So much lubricant. Why so much. He's so embarrassed. He just wants to get home and hide in his washroom, but it's slow going with his legs this wobbly, and he didn't bring anything to tow his load of deer snackies in so he can't drive.

His life is pain.

His life is even more pain when he turns a corner and literally trips over a meditating Wing. Plants fly everywhere, and possibly the gangliest bot on the planet finds himself draped over a complete stranger.

...squeak.

Wing's optics snap open just before Mayday collides with him and he reaches out, catching Mayday's fall and turning him so he ends up sitting in Wing's lap, one of Wing's arms around his shoulders and the other curled loosely around his waist.

"Hello," Wing says, not sounding perturbed in the least, shifting Mayday comfortably against him and looking around curiously, spotting the scattered plants. "Oh. ...can I help you?"

Mayday stares dazedly up at Wing, trying to figure out what just happened. Lap. He's in a lap. A stranger's lap.

He feels a brief moment of terror because what if it's a Deception who wants to beat him up but the offer to help quells that.

"I-" he starts, before his gaze fixes on Wing's face and his pollen-driven libido suddenly informs him that oh no he's hot. Further words emerge in the form of choked incomprehensible squeaks as the metal of his cheeks starts blazing.

Slowly, Mayday places his hands over his helmet's faceguard and hides.

Wing knows he shouldn't laugh but he can't help it. It's warm and kind, at least, and he shifts his impromptu hold on Mayday to turn it into a sort of hug, squeezing gently.

"You too, hmmm? It seems to be going around." He rubs soothingly at Mayday's side. "It's all right. My name's Wing."

Oh no he's nice.

"I should have stayed home," Mayday whines. But the deer had been giving him such sad looks. The saddest looks.

The soothing touches are having pretty much the opposite effect. On the one hand, it makes him twitchy because he's still recovering from his long fear of being touched and he doesn't know where Wing's been and when was the last time he washed!

On the other hand, wow please touch him more, his body is on fire, mmm. So very, very embarrassing.

"I'm m-m-Mayday," he manages, still hiding behind his hands.

"That seems to be the general consensus, yes," Wing says wryly, watching Mayday from very close.

"It's nice to meet you, Mayday," he says, his voice gentle. "Would you like me to help you up and let you go? I can help carry your, um, plants, too, if you'd like."

"Right. Yes. Plants." Plants for sad deer. "That sounds like- I mean. Nh. Right. Go home. Good idea."

Escape before he ends up banging anyone else that's not his boyfriend. And then call Pipes. And cry about how he didn't think it would be this bad. That sounds like the sensible course of action.

If he can, uh, get his legs to work. Because now they're even more wobbly.

Wing makes an agreeable sound and stands up, scooping Mayday up with him effortlessly before he very carefully sets Mayday down on his feet. Wing holds his shoulders a moment to make sure he's steady and smiles down into his face.

"I'll get the plants, all right?" he says. His cooling fans are laboring audibly and his plating is warm, but he seems remarkably composed. "You just focus on getting us home."

Mayday's ventilation catches as Wing sets him on his feet like he weighs approximately nothing. Which is kind of true by Transformer standards, but still. Oh no he's strong.

He's steady. Sort of. And also standing very, very still because he's fairly certain if he moves at all, his legs are going to collapse.

"O-oh. Kay. Okay. Yes. Home." Yes, hello weak trembly voice.

Wing gathers up the scattered vegetation and turns back to Mayday, cocking his head curiously before he steps closer again. He doesn't touch Mayday, but his face softens in understanding and he ducks his head down.

"Mayday," he says. "Are you all right? I mean, besides the obvious."

When Wing steps closer - oh gosh he's looks so tall this close - and Mayday almost swoons, his posture growing stiffer as he tries to remain upright.

"No, no. I mean yes! I mean. Um. I- I'm okay!" His voice hitches to a squeakier pitch. "Besides the- the 'obvious'."

The obvious is just really messing with him right now, boy is it.

"All right," Wing says, looking sympathetic. "Just--if you need help." He stops, clears his vocalizer, and looks away for a moment.

"Well. If you decide you'd like assistance, I'd of course be very flattered if you'd feel comfortable enough to ask me. And if you'd rather be left alone I'd be happy to do that, as well. Okay? The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable."

Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh- he's being propositioned isn't he. The attractive guy he barely knows is offering to have- to do- he's offering to. With him.

Mayday makes approximately the most pathetic squeak ever as his panels suddenly snap open, promptly drenching his thighs with pent-up lubricant.

EMBARRASSMENT LEVELS AT MAXIMUM.

Wing's optics widen very slowly but save for one brief flick down they stay on Mayday's face. He does raise a hand to press over his lips, but his optics are clearly smiling.

"Oh," he says, but there's no cruelty in his tone, only a sort of helpless amusement. "I see." Still, he doesn't move, doesn't reach for Mayday before he's asked to.

"...is that a yes?"

Mayday covers his face again in mortification, trying to ignore the fact that he's dripping on the ground.

...Yeah, there's no ignoring that.

He was hoping not to do this again, but he was getting so hot and Wing was hot and really nice, and well, Pipes had done it, too, right? So it's okay? It's probably okay. He was okay that Pipes had done it.

That's not going to stop him from whining though, and so he whines. For a long time. High to low. And then finally finishes off with, "Nnnnnnnnyes?"

"Mayday." Wing sets the plants gently on the ground and takes a step towards him, reaching up to cup Mayday's face between warm, solid hands. His body is reacting helplessly to the sharp scent of lubricant in the air and the charge rolling off Mayday's frame, but he ignores it firmly for a moment as he just touched very softly at Mayday's helm, stroking with his fingertips before he leans down to plant a kiss in the middle of Mayday's forehelm.

"We don't have to. I can go get someone for you, if you'd prefer. Or just help you get home. It's ip to you."

Mayday lets out a thoroughly charmed whimper as Wing kisses him tenderly. It's like something out of the raunchy romances he reads, and this time he definitely swoons, his knees buckling beneath him.

Times like these almost make him wish he hadn't permanently attached a clear face-guard to his helm. Then Wing could catch him in his arms and dip him down for a deep, dramatic kiss-

Optics wide and sparkling, and rapidly losing himself in erotica fantasy, Mayday whispers a hushed, "Take me."

Wing catches him when his knees crumple and scoops him up with a laugh, nuzzling in against Mayday's throat. He leans down again to gather up as much of the greens as possible, then hefts Mayday against him, ignoring the slick heat of Mayday's valve against his plating as much as he can.

"Going to take you inside, first," Wing says, laughing warmly and nuzzling at the side of the facemask, pressing kisses near the edge of it as he walks briskly, his own array aching now. The nearest building isn't far, and Wing shoulders his way inside and into the first room with a door and a berth he can find, pulling it shut behind him and dropping the plants on the floor so he can spread Mayday out, peppering little kisses all over his shoulders and down the front of his breastplate to his belly.

"What do you want, Mayday?" Wing asks, voice low and thrumming as he vents warm air between Mayday's legs.

Clinging to Wing like particularly smitten cellophane, Mayday only nods dazedly at the mention of going inside. He's such a gentlebot. Even saving some of the deer snackies, too. He'd feel bad later if he came home empty-handed, but for now he's mostly concerned about his empty valve.

He gives an excited squeal as Wing lays him down and starts kissing him, his hands coming up to curl against his faceplate over his mouth.

Breathlessly, he answers, "I have no idea."

His experience is novels, some naughty vids, and awkward fumbling with Pipes. Not that he regrets the awkward fumbling. Sharing pleasure with Pipes was great. He adores Pipes. Currently he's got a massive charge for a charming stranger who seems way more experienced than him, though.

Wing laughs, but it's a happy sound, nuzzling in against Mayday's hip and pressing light kisses there for a moment before his optics flick up to Mayday's face.

"Well, then! Why don't I try some things, and you let me know the second you aren't having a good time, okay?" Wing ducks down, spreading Mayday's legs gently so he can settle between them, ducking his head in and licking tenderly at the inside of his thigh, dragging his tongue through the slick wash of lubricant there. He hums as he works higher and higher, his optics still on Mayday's face.

"Of course, feel free to let me know if you are having a good time, too," he says before he leans in and presses soft lips to the slick heat of Mayday's valve, tracing gently along wet mesh before his mouth closed against Mayday's anterior node and he sucks, slow and careful, not wanting it to be too much too fast.

Ambulon sputters slightly as pulse after pulse of transfluid is pumped down his intake. Wing’s unfettered cries and staticky moans have charge arching from the medic's plating as he slowly begins to come down. He swallows every drop of what Wing has to offer, licking stray smears from his scorching array.

As his parter rights himself, Ambulon looks over at him with lust clouded optics. His mouth hangs open as he pants ragged gasps of air, trying to cool his overheated system. The light kisses and kind words of thanks are barely registered as his attention is zeroed in on the warm hand pumping his spike. His back bows as he ruts into that tight grip, moaning Wing’s name.

Wing leans in and kisses him, hard and slow, licking into Ambulon's mouth and moaning shakily as he tastes himself, his optics pale and blazing when he finally draws away. He lets go of Ambulon briefly, but only to push himself up onto shaky knees and straddle Ambulon's hips, rubbing the slick heat of his valve against Ambulon's length before he arches and pushes down, sliding Ambulon into him.

"Oh," he chokes, voice ragged with static--he's achingly sensitive, and he clenches down helplessly as Ambulon slides deep. "Ambulon--"

Ambulon's optics flash brightly as Wing mounts his spike, sliding down in one smooth motion. His slick, sensitive valve clutches him so perfectly, working the medic closer and closer to his overload.

He slides his hands up Wing’s sides to clutch at his waist, trying to ground himself.

“Wing— Please, that feels so good…” Ambulon's voice cracks with static and he works his hips in circles, trying to get as deep as possible into that perfect valve. “H-harder, ride me harder— please, Primus--."

[LAZIEST CATCH-ALL FOR SEX POLLEN]

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LATE GAME

RIGHT ON TIME

:D

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