robothell | [LAZIEST CATCH-ALL FOR SEX POLLEN]

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.

Mayday nods in agreement, not trusting his vocalizer to make actual words at the moment. His ventilation gradually ramps higher the further up his scrawny thighs Wing goes.

He lets out a soft high-pitched squeal as Wing's lips touch his valve and then he sucks- his thighs try to clamp tight around Wing's helm as he arches sharply, crying out at the hard, hot throb from his node. His hands clutch tighter against his face guard as he squirms.

Wing makes a low sound and wraps his hands around Mayday's thighs, pinning him firmly as his mouth works softly between Mayday's legs. He does his best to be gentle, fingers stroking, tongue soft--he can feel the charge racing under his own plating and he moans softly without lifting his head, a shudder wracking him.

Luckily it's not hard to pin Mayday. He's not exactly the strongest bot on the planet. Probably the opposite. It leaves him to squirm restlessly against Wing's holds, letting out an impressive array of whines because he's pretty sure Wing's unfairly good at this.

Not that he has anything to compare it to.

"Oh, nh- Allspark- guh-!" His plating is absolutely blazing with charge, and if he weren't so aroused he wouldn't be able to suppress the worry of parts burning out and cooking himself to death.

No time for morbid paranoia, though, because he's busy screaming as the charge in him suddenly breaks, intense pleasure running through him and more lubricant gushing around Wing's mouth.

So embarrassed. After he's done overloading anyway.

Wing moans again, sweet and hungry as he licks softly through Mayday's overload, only drawing away when he's limp and gasping. His mouth is wet as he draws back, his optics blazing and his hands a little unsteady as he collapses against the berth next to Mayday, petting down his side.

"Better?"

Mayday's hands shift to hide his hole face as Wing settles next to him, though he sneaks peeks between his fingers. Wing doesn't look particularly bothered...

He has to think about that question for a bit, trying to sort through what's afterglow and what's current charge. But there's still that embarrassing pollen-induced heat roiling through his loins, so he shakes his head sheepishly.

Wing makes a soft, sympathetic noise, petting Mayday's hip gently.

"I'm sorry," he says. "You seem to have a particularly rough case." His grip shifts and his fingers start to draw delicate swirling patterns against the side of Mayday's pelvic block, instead, slow and coaxing.

"Would you like more?"

"I-I-I-" Mayday resets his vocalizer, Wing's soft touches making his voice hitch with static. "-I fell in a field."

A field of the flowers. He managed to avoid this for days in the safety of his home and then that. His luck is terrible.

Or possibly amazing because he honestly feels like he's living one of his novels right now. Might as well live the dream for awhile! He can feel morbidly embarrassed about the whole affair later.

For now he nods and squeaks out, "Mmhm."

"That'll explain it, yes," Wing says ruefully, nuzzling a soft kiss against Mayday's cheek. "It's the pollen from the flowers that's doing this."

He sighs contently and curls Mayday a little closer against his side, settling into the berth and dimming his optics as his hand slides in, curling around Mayday's spike and giving it a slow, gentle stroke. "How's this?" he asks, optics intent on Mayday's face, his voice a little staticky.

Mayday nods, flushing hotter as Wing kisses him. "P-p-p-ah- nh! Pipes told me!"

He gets the warm fuzzies thinking about Pipes, which are a bit different from the hot tingles that shoot through him as Wing grasps his spike. He gasps and arches, optics flickering.

"Ah-!"

"Oh," Wing says, humming thoughtfully as he tightens his grip, his pace steady and unhurried. "I met Pipes, er. Earlier." He clears his vocalizer of static and swallows a shiver. "He was affected as well. ...very sweet, though."

He looks down at Mayday, refocusing his attention. "Is this good?" he asks, dropping a light kiss onto Mayday's shoulder. "Not too much?"

"Mmm," Mayday hums happily, squirming as Wing strokes him. "H-he's the sweetest."

It'd be pretty nice if Pipes were here. He could hug him and then he'd know what to do with his hands instead of them wandering aimlessly about - pressed against his face guard, then clutching at his shoulders, then stretching above his head, then shyly tapping Wing..m

"It's- nh! It's good!"

And it's a good thing he's not standing, because Wing is positively reducing him to a trembling jelly.

Wing makes a warm, sweet little sound in his throat and leans into Mayday's brief touch, his cooling fans roaring now.

"Good," he gasps, thighs trembling, his grip still slow and steady against Mayday's spike. "Oh, Mayday, I'm--I'm sorry, I can't--" He buries his face in against Mayday's palm and moans, low and ragged, as his panels snap open, his spike pressurizing in a rush and a wash of lubricant running down his thighs to puddle on the berth. He drags in cool air, shivering and making a warm, needy little sound, his body slumping slightly in relief.

"Oh," he says, staticky and dazed, his optics flickering. His palm slides gently along Mayday's spike, squeezing with a sure, slow grip.

"O-oh-!" Mayday gasps as Wing's panels part. Looking down between them, his body gives a hot throb at the sight of Wing's cord and the drips of lubricant.

The next stroke of Wing's hand has him whining and squirming, finally clinging tight to Wing as he overloads again with a splash of fluid over his belly.

He has seen more dicks in person these past few days than in his entire life, and he's discovering that he very much likes it. Or maybe that's just the pollen talking.

[LAZIEST CATCH-ALL FOR SEX POLLEN]

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