[Crown the Empire] Full of Yourself 01/02
Dec. 27th, 2017 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Full of Yourself Part One
Universe: Crown the Empire, Reign
Characters: Grimlock/Starscream
Rating: M
Enticements: Sticky Sex, Knotting, Mods, Office Sex
Description: Starscream’s been a busy, busy Seeker, and he has a surprise for Grimlock that’s going to make both of them very happy mechs.
Commission For JarofDirtyScrews, part one of two because the second half is the commission, and the first half demanded to be written, too. ;)
Decepticon Headquarters was a different place late in the evening, when most of the regular staff had returned to their homes, and all that remained was the skeleton crew. Lights were dimmed to conserve energy, or set to motion timers in other places. Corridors found themselves bathed in shadows, and it was so quiet Starscream could hear his wings twitching as they registered air currents.
It was peaceful, like life under Megatron had never been.
But Starscream hadn’t come to headquarters to reminisce. He’d left the comfort and warmth of his private suite to track down his missing leader and mate, who should have been home hours ago, but had probably lost track of time in his office. Paperwork was one of Primus’ cruelest punishments to place on Grimlock’s shoulders.
Starscream would retrieve Grimlock, or distract him. One way or another, Grimlock’s attention would be back where it belonged right now – on Starscream himself. They had a deal. He had a little surprise for his mate, and Starscream was tired of waiting for an opportunity.
The door was locked, but that was no barrier to Starscream. There was no door in the entirety of Iacon that was locked to Starscream, not even anything barred by Grimlock’s code. That had been the agreement.
It beeped satisfaction with his override and granted him entrance. Starscream grinned as he sashayed inside, his mate looking up at him from half-behind a stack of datapads. Surprise echoed in his field. His visor flickered.
“I… didn’t realize it was that late.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Starscream crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “You must have gotten that ability to work past several of your alarms from your genitors.” Ratchet and Wheeljack both were notorious for working themselves into exhaustion.
Grimlock snorted and set down his datapad. “That and there is still far too much work to be done, and not enough hands to do it.”
Starscream flicked his fingers. “Cybertron can’t be rebuilt in a day.” He pushed off the frame, letting the door close behind him, as it had been pinging him to do. “Though we nearly managed to destroy it in one.”
Grimlock leaned back, something keen in the angle of his visor. “You didn’t come fetch me just for a rousing debate on who to blame for the war.”
“No, I didn’t.” Starscream smirked and circled around the desk, his fingertips trailing along the scuffed metal, worn with age and salvaged from a bombed out former-university. “I have a surprise for you, and you didn’t even have the decency to come home on time to get it.”
“A surprise?” Grimlock echoed, and his engine rumbled. His visor tracked Starscream’s every movement with something of a hungry gleam. “What for?”
Starscream shrugged. “Because I felt like it.” His lips pulled into a fang-bearing smirk before he took advantage of Grimlock’s pose and slid neatly into his mate’s lap, draping his arms over Grimlock’s shoulders. “Lucky for you, I brought it with me.”
“Is that so?” Grimlock’s hands landed warm on Starscream’s hips, tugging him closer, their pelvic plating coming into delicious contact. “I don’t see it.”
Starscream laughed and slipped his fingers into a seam, plucking at the cables beneath. “That’s part of the surprise.” He leaned in, nipping at the edge of Grimlock’s mouthplate. “We should break in your office properly. Frag me.”
Hands tightened on his hips, thumbs sweeping inward to rub the edges of his interface array. “That’s not a surprise,” Grimlock replied, vocals husky and hungry.
“Isn’t it?” Starscream scraped his denta over Grimlock’s intake, felt the beat of his energon pump against his lips. “I want you to knot me.”
Grimlock shivered, his field pouring over Starscream like liquid fire. “Is that so? Shouldn’t we go back to our quarters for that?”
“What? I’m not good enough for a little illicit office ‘facing?” Starscream leaned back, his elbows against the desk, wing tips fluttering. “Or are you worried you’ll be too distracted in the future, thinking about me overloading on your knot?”
Grimlock’s engine rumbled. “You are dangerous,” he said as he swept his hands up and down Starscream’s sides, thumbs sweeping inward at the lowest point to caress Starscream’s interface array.
“But you’re still going to give me what I want,” Starscream purred.
Grimlock leaned in, the heat of his ex-vents tickling Starscream’s armor. “Always,” he murmured and his thumbs swept tiny circles over Starscream’s array. “Open.”
That was one command Starscream was willing to obey. He licked his lips as he let his panels open, his spike sliding thick and glossy into Grimlock’s fingers as his valve loosed a few drips onto his partner’s groin armor. He’d spent far too long anticipating this little surprise, and his readiness showed.
Not that Grimlock didn’t appreciate it. His engine rumbled again as his fingers found the wetness between Starscream’s thighs, and two curved into him, caressing his inner nodes.
“You’re ready for me,” he observed.
Starscream wrapped his fingers around Grimlock’s wrist and encouraged his mate to deepen the touch. “Well, you’ve been neglecting me.”
Grimlock’s thumb found his anterior node and gave it a firm rub. Starscream groaned and arched his backstrut, heat pooling in his array as his valve rippled.
“Then I owe you more attention.” Grimlock’s other hand curved around Starscream’s waist, fingers dancing along Starscream’s spinal strut.
“Yes, you do.” Starscream poked his lower lip into a pout, one he knew Grimlock couldn’t resist. “And I want more than your fingers.”
A third finger slipped into his valve, teasing every node within reach. “You’ll have to be more specific, love.”
Starscream growled. He reached back, gripping the edge of the desk to brace himself for a nice grind on Grimlock’s fingers. “You already know what I want.”
“Maybe I want to be sure. I want to hear you say it again.” It was Grimlock’s turn to sound smug and self-satisfied as one hand slid up, tweaking Starscream’s wing mounts.
“Rust you,” Starscream hissed and ground his denta.
Heat wafted up against his aft from Grimlock’s array, and Grimlock’s field blazed at his with desire. Sometimes, Starscream forgot how much Grimlock could be a paragon of self-control. And he always did this. He made Starscream repeat himself, and it’d taken months for Starscream to realize it wasn’t because Grimlock was being an aft, it was because he wanted to make sure Starscream actually wanted him.
It warmed him to the core every time.
So Starscream unfurled his field, allowing his affection and his desire to spill into it. He rolled his hips against Grimlock’s fingers. “Spike me,” he demanded, his voice syrupy sweet and hungry. “Knot me. I want every drop of your transfluid.”
There was a moment of silence before he heard and felt the shiver of need run through his mate. Grimlock’s panel kicked open, the hot head of his spike brushing over Starscream’s aft. His hands moved to Starscream’s hips, easing him forward, the tip of his spike painting Starscream’s rim in pre-fluid.
“That, I can do,” Grimlock growled and rolled his hips, grinding his spike-tip against Starscream’s valve, the head teasing him with penetration but only just.
Starscream groaned and grabbed Grimlock’s arms, pulling himself closer to Grimlock’s spike. “Get inside me already,” he moaned, canting his hips to catch the head of Grimlock’s spike with his rim. The glancing touch caressed his anterior node, and he shivered.
Grimlock’s hands cupped his hips, ever so carefully, and with a single rock forward, he breached Starscream’s valve, easing into him. It was a stretch at first, it always was, but Grimlock was so slow, so careful. He let Starscream move at his own pace, unless Starscream demanded more. So he did, moaning out the demand with a roll of his hips as Grimlock sank another few inches into him.
Starscream braced his weight on the edge of the desk and bore down, pushing himself onto Grimlock’s spike, until he was filled completely, the thick head nudging at his ceiling node. He sighed, optics half-shuttering, as pleasure rippled through his array.
Grimlock’s hand slid back down, circling his anterior node with a rub of his thumb. “Good?” he asked.
Starscream licked his lips and clenched his valve, calipers rolling up and down Grimlock’s spike as he let it ground deep. His vents came in sharper bursts, pleasure tightening into a sharp coil inside of him. He lifted and dropped himself, riding Grimlock’s spike, as his mate’s thumb rubbed slippery and warm over his node.
“You’re making me do all the work,” Starscream replied and tipped his head back, baring his intake, knowing that the sight of it revved Grimlock’s engine.
“Only because you put on such a pretty show.” Grimlock rolled Starscream’s nub between two fingers, giving it a pinch that made Starscream’s hips jerk and pleasure spike through his lines. “Will you give me an overload?”
Starscream laughed, deep and raspy. “Oh, that’s inevitable.” He rolled his hips harder, riding the firm length of Grimlock’s spike. His own bobbed at the apex of his thighs, thick and dripping pre-fluid.
Grimlock’s other hand abandoned his hip, instead curling his fingers tight around Starscream’s spike. He started to strong, long, squeezing and perfect, his thumb rubbing over the transfluid slit on every twist.
Starscream groaned. His valve fluttered, charge building to a crescendo in his groin, Grimlock’s spike throbbing and thickening inside of him. His vents quickened as his head tipped back, mouth opened on a pant.
“Let me see it,” Grimlock murmured, both hands working to drive Starscream’s pleasure higher, little zaps of charge zinging through his lines with every twist of Grimlock’s hand and every flicking rub of his fingers. “Overload for me, Star.”
His denta ground together. His hands curled into taloned fists against the desk’s edge. His backstrut curved, driving Grimlock deeper, as he overloaded, charge spilling like blue fire over his armor. His spike spilled into Grimlock’s grip, thin pulses of transfluid, while his valve rippled around Grimlock’s spike. Pleasure beat through his lines in an arrhythmic cadence, until his processor spun, and he sank back into his thrumming frame.
Grimlock remained rigid with him, thick and throbbing, frame trembling with restraint. Such self-control was intoxicating.
Starscream sucked in a careful vent. “You’re going to fry a circuit,” he said, vocals striped with static. He grinned, lazy and satisfied. “Engage your mod, you idiot. Knot me.”
A sound that could only be called a purr rose from Grimlock’s intake. He thrust up into Starscream with little rolls of his hips. “Yes, dear,” he said, cheeky, and his sticky hands moved to Starscream’s hips, moving him with ridiculous ease.
Starscream went languid, giving his frame over to Grimlock’s greater strength, letting himself be lifted and lowered onto the thick spike. The knot was already starting to swell at the base of Grimlock’s spike, the thickness of it rubbing over Starcream’s sensitized nodes and sending zaps of pleasure up his spinal strut.
He hummed, wings twitching, sinking into the sensation.
Pleasure swamped Grimlock’s field, buzzing hot and heavy, surrounding Starscream in a lust-filled haze. He slid his hands back to Grimlock’s arms, fingers teasing into seams to pinch at the cables beneath, and was rewarded with a shudder and another swell of Grimlock’s knot. It was just a shade too big, enough that it caught on his rim with every roll of Grimlock’s hips, catching and tugging at the pliant metal mesh.
Starscream groaned and drew in a sharp vent. He nibbled on his bottom lip, obscene squelching noises echoing in the office, which now smelled of lubricant and overloads.
And then Grimlock tugged him down again, ground deep, and his knot swelled one more time, far too large to slip back out of Starscream’s valve.
A sigh slipped free of Grimlock’s vents. His spike throbbed as his hands clenched on Starscream’s hips before loosening again, sliding up and down his sides.
“Okay?” he asked, as always, concerned for Starscream’s comfort.
Starscream, however, licked his lips and grinned. “Oh, I’m perfect,” he purred, and rolled his hips, firmly seating Grimlock inside his valve, his rim immediately contracting behind the knot and keeping it trapped within him. His calipers rippled, a rhythmic wave that seemed to massage Grimlock’s spike from knot to head, as if milking him.
Grimlock went still beneath him, his hands cupping Starscream’s chassis, even his vents paused. “Star?”
“I told you I had a surprise.” Starscream dragged a hand down his frame and palmed his own spike, giving it a squeeze. “You’re not the only one who can get a mod.”
Grimlock’s visor flared. His engine rumbled. “That’s why you’ve been disinterested in ‘facing for a week.”
Starscream chuckled. “It can take that long for the adjustments to settle.” He wriggled his hips, activating the rippling sensation again, and catching a strangled noise in his mate’s intake. “Wheeljack tells me you’ve never fully engaged your mod because you’ve never emptied your transfluid tank. That you can’t.”
Embarrassment flickered in Grimlock’s field. “You talked to Wheeljack.”
Heat tinted Starscream’s cheeks. That had been an interesting conversation. “Needs must.” He twitched his hips, clenching around Grimlock’s spike and provoking another shiver from his mate. “He said there’s a safety mechanism built into the mod so that you can’t hurt your partner by releasing too much transfluid.”
“I knew that.” Grimlock’s hands swept up and down Starscream’s sides as if to reassure.
Starscream’s lips pulled into a slow grin. “But what you don’t know is that I came with more than one surprise.” His hand landed on his lower abdomen, giving it a little pat. “I’ve had a small adjustment to make sure that’s no longer a problem. You can overload until you drain your tank. And I can take it.”
Grimlock growled, the sound echoing in his chassis, his grip sliding to Starscream’s hips and tightening. “I love you.”
“I know.” Starscream swallowed down a laugh and slid his hands back around Grimlock’s arms, leaning forward to deepen the press of the spike within him. “Now frag me,” he purred.
The shudder that rippled across Grimlock’s armor, followed by a burst of drizzling heat in his field, was all the confirmation Starscream needed to know his surprise had been very, very welcome.
Hah.
Grimlock would think twice about ignoring him again, now wouldn’t he?
*** a/n: Feedback is always welcome and appreciated. :)
Universe: Crown the Empire, Reign
Characters: Grimlock/Starscream
Rating: M
Enticements: Sticky Sex, Knotting, Mods, Office Sex
Description: Starscream’s been a busy, busy Seeker, and he has a surprise for Grimlock that’s going to make both of them very happy mechs.
Commission For JarofDirtyScrews, part one of two because the second half is the commission, and the first half demanded to be written, too. ;)
Decepticon Headquarters was a different place late in the evening, when most of the regular staff had returned to their homes, and all that remained was the skeleton crew. Lights were dimmed to conserve energy, or set to motion timers in other places. Corridors found themselves bathed in shadows, and it was so quiet Starscream could hear his wings twitching as they registered air currents.
It was peaceful, like life under Megatron had never been.
But Starscream hadn’t come to headquarters to reminisce. He’d left the comfort and warmth of his private suite to track down his missing leader and mate, who should have been home hours ago, but had probably lost track of time in his office. Paperwork was one of Primus’ cruelest punishments to place on Grimlock’s shoulders.
Starscream would retrieve Grimlock, or distract him. One way or another, Grimlock’s attention would be back where it belonged right now – on Starscream himself. They had a deal. He had a little surprise for his mate, and Starscream was tired of waiting for an opportunity.
The door was locked, but that was no barrier to Starscream. There was no door in the entirety of Iacon that was locked to Starscream, not even anything barred by Grimlock’s code. That had been the agreement.
It beeped satisfaction with his override and granted him entrance. Starscream grinned as he sashayed inside, his mate looking up at him from half-behind a stack of datapads. Surprise echoed in his field. His visor flickered.
“I… didn’t realize it was that late.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Starscream crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “You must have gotten that ability to work past several of your alarms from your genitors.” Ratchet and Wheeljack both were notorious for working themselves into exhaustion.
Grimlock snorted and set down his datapad. “That and there is still far too much work to be done, and not enough hands to do it.”
Starscream flicked his fingers. “Cybertron can’t be rebuilt in a day.” He pushed off the frame, letting the door close behind him, as it had been pinging him to do. “Though we nearly managed to destroy it in one.”
Grimlock leaned back, something keen in the angle of his visor. “You didn’t come fetch me just for a rousing debate on who to blame for the war.”
“No, I didn’t.” Starscream smirked and circled around the desk, his fingertips trailing along the scuffed metal, worn with age and salvaged from a bombed out former-university. “I have a surprise for you, and you didn’t even have the decency to come home on time to get it.”
“A surprise?” Grimlock echoed, and his engine rumbled. His visor tracked Starscream’s every movement with something of a hungry gleam. “What for?”
Starscream shrugged. “Because I felt like it.” His lips pulled into a fang-bearing smirk before he took advantage of Grimlock’s pose and slid neatly into his mate’s lap, draping his arms over Grimlock’s shoulders. “Lucky for you, I brought it with me.”
“Is that so?” Grimlock’s hands landed warm on Starscream’s hips, tugging him closer, their pelvic plating coming into delicious contact. “I don’t see it.”
Starscream laughed and slipped his fingers into a seam, plucking at the cables beneath. “That’s part of the surprise.” He leaned in, nipping at the edge of Grimlock’s mouthplate. “We should break in your office properly. Frag me.”
Hands tightened on his hips, thumbs sweeping inward to rub the edges of his interface array. “That’s not a surprise,” Grimlock replied, vocals husky and hungry.
“Isn’t it?” Starscream scraped his denta over Grimlock’s intake, felt the beat of his energon pump against his lips. “I want you to knot me.”
Grimlock shivered, his field pouring over Starscream like liquid fire. “Is that so? Shouldn’t we go back to our quarters for that?”
“What? I’m not good enough for a little illicit office ‘facing?” Starscream leaned back, his elbows against the desk, wing tips fluttering. “Or are you worried you’ll be too distracted in the future, thinking about me overloading on your knot?”
Grimlock’s engine rumbled. “You are dangerous,” he said as he swept his hands up and down Starscream’s sides, thumbs sweeping inward at the lowest point to caress Starscream’s interface array.
“But you’re still going to give me what I want,” Starscream purred.
Grimlock leaned in, the heat of his ex-vents tickling Starscream’s armor. “Always,” he murmured and his thumbs swept tiny circles over Starscream’s array. “Open.”
That was one command Starscream was willing to obey. He licked his lips as he let his panels open, his spike sliding thick and glossy into Grimlock’s fingers as his valve loosed a few drips onto his partner’s groin armor. He’d spent far too long anticipating this little surprise, and his readiness showed.
Not that Grimlock didn’t appreciate it. His engine rumbled again as his fingers found the wetness between Starscream’s thighs, and two curved into him, caressing his inner nodes.
“You’re ready for me,” he observed.
Starscream wrapped his fingers around Grimlock’s wrist and encouraged his mate to deepen the touch. “Well, you’ve been neglecting me.”
Grimlock’s thumb found his anterior node and gave it a firm rub. Starscream groaned and arched his backstrut, heat pooling in his array as his valve rippled.
“Then I owe you more attention.” Grimlock’s other hand curved around Starscream’s waist, fingers dancing along Starscream’s spinal strut.
“Yes, you do.” Starscream poked his lower lip into a pout, one he knew Grimlock couldn’t resist. “And I want more than your fingers.”
A third finger slipped into his valve, teasing every node within reach. “You’ll have to be more specific, love.”
Starscream growled. He reached back, gripping the edge of the desk to brace himself for a nice grind on Grimlock’s fingers. “You already know what I want.”
“Maybe I want to be sure. I want to hear you say it again.” It was Grimlock’s turn to sound smug and self-satisfied as one hand slid up, tweaking Starscream’s wing mounts.
“Rust you,” Starscream hissed and ground his denta.
Heat wafted up against his aft from Grimlock’s array, and Grimlock’s field blazed at his with desire. Sometimes, Starscream forgot how much Grimlock could be a paragon of self-control. And he always did this. He made Starscream repeat himself, and it’d taken months for Starscream to realize it wasn’t because Grimlock was being an aft, it was because he wanted to make sure Starscream actually wanted him.
It warmed him to the core every time.
So Starscream unfurled his field, allowing his affection and his desire to spill into it. He rolled his hips against Grimlock’s fingers. “Spike me,” he demanded, his voice syrupy sweet and hungry. “Knot me. I want every drop of your transfluid.”
There was a moment of silence before he heard and felt the shiver of need run through his mate. Grimlock’s panel kicked open, the hot head of his spike brushing over Starscream’s aft. His hands moved to Starscream’s hips, easing him forward, the tip of his spike painting Starscream’s rim in pre-fluid.
“That, I can do,” Grimlock growled and rolled his hips, grinding his spike-tip against Starscream’s valve, the head teasing him with penetration but only just.
Starscream groaned and grabbed Grimlock’s arms, pulling himself closer to Grimlock’s spike. “Get inside me already,” he moaned, canting his hips to catch the head of Grimlock’s spike with his rim. The glancing touch caressed his anterior node, and he shivered.
Grimlock’s hands cupped his hips, ever so carefully, and with a single rock forward, he breached Starscream’s valve, easing into him. It was a stretch at first, it always was, but Grimlock was so slow, so careful. He let Starscream move at his own pace, unless Starscream demanded more. So he did, moaning out the demand with a roll of his hips as Grimlock sank another few inches into him.
Starscream braced his weight on the edge of the desk and bore down, pushing himself onto Grimlock’s spike, until he was filled completely, the thick head nudging at his ceiling node. He sighed, optics half-shuttering, as pleasure rippled through his array.
Grimlock’s hand slid back down, circling his anterior node with a rub of his thumb. “Good?” he asked.
Starscream licked his lips and clenched his valve, calipers rolling up and down Grimlock’s spike as he let it ground deep. His vents came in sharper bursts, pleasure tightening into a sharp coil inside of him. He lifted and dropped himself, riding Grimlock’s spike, as his mate’s thumb rubbed slippery and warm over his node.
“You’re making me do all the work,” Starscream replied and tipped his head back, baring his intake, knowing that the sight of it revved Grimlock’s engine.
“Only because you put on such a pretty show.” Grimlock rolled Starscream’s nub between two fingers, giving it a pinch that made Starscream’s hips jerk and pleasure spike through his lines. “Will you give me an overload?”
Starscream laughed, deep and raspy. “Oh, that’s inevitable.” He rolled his hips harder, riding the firm length of Grimlock’s spike. His own bobbed at the apex of his thighs, thick and dripping pre-fluid.
Grimlock’s other hand abandoned his hip, instead curling his fingers tight around Starscream’s spike. He started to strong, long, squeezing and perfect, his thumb rubbing over the transfluid slit on every twist.
Starscream groaned. His valve fluttered, charge building to a crescendo in his groin, Grimlock’s spike throbbing and thickening inside of him. His vents quickened as his head tipped back, mouth opened on a pant.
“Let me see it,” Grimlock murmured, both hands working to drive Starscream’s pleasure higher, little zaps of charge zinging through his lines with every twist of Grimlock’s hand and every flicking rub of his fingers. “Overload for me, Star.”
His denta ground together. His hands curled into taloned fists against the desk’s edge. His backstrut curved, driving Grimlock deeper, as he overloaded, charge spilling like blue fire over his armor. His spike spilled into Grimlock’s grip, thin pulses of transfluid, while his valve rippled around Grimlock’s spike. Pleasure beat through his lines in an arrhythmic cadence, until his processor spun, and he sank back into his thrumming frame.
Grimlock remained rigid with him, thick and throbbing, frame trembling with restraint. Such self-control was intoxicating.
Starscream sucked in a careful vent. “You’re going to fry a circuit,” he said, vocals striped with static. He grinned, lazy and satisfied. “Engage your mod, you idiot. Knot me.”
A sound that could only be called a purr rose from Grimlock’s intake. He thrust up into Starscream with little rolls of his hips. “Yes, dear,” he said, cheeky, and his sticky hands moved to Starscream’s hips, moving him with ridiculous ease.
Starscream went languid, giving his frame over to Grimlock’s greater strength, letting himself be lifted and lowered onto the thick spike. The knot was already starting to swell at the base of Grimlock’s spike, the thickness of it rubbing over Starcream’s sensitized nodes and sending zaps of pleasure up his spinal strut.
He hummed, wings twitching, sinking into the sensation.
Pleasure swamped Grimlock’s field, buzzing hot and heavy, surrounding Starscream in a lust-filled haze. He slid his hands back to Grimlock’s arms, fingers teasing into seams to pinch at the cables beneath, and was rewarded with a shudder and another swell of Grimlock’s knot. It was just a shade too big, enough that it caught on his rim with every roll of Grimlock’s hips, catching and tugging at the pliant metal mesh.
Starscream groaned and drew in a sharp vent. He nibbled on his bottom lip, obscene squelching noises echoing in the office, which now smelled of lubricant and overloads.
And then Grimlock tugged him down again, ground deep, and his knot swelled one more time, far too large to slip back out of Starscream’s valve.
A sigh slipped free of Grimlock’s vents. His spike throbbed as his hands clenched on Starscream’s hips before loosening again, sliding up and down his sides.
“Okay?” he asked, as always, concerned for Starscream’s comfort.
Starscream, however, licked his lips and grinned. “Oh, I’m perfect,” he purred, and rolled his hips, firmly seating Grimlock inside his valve, his rim immediately contracting behind the knot and keeping it trapped within him. His calipers rippled, a rhythmic wave that seemed to massage Grimlock’s spike from knot to head, as if milking him.
Grimlock went still beneath him, his hands cupping Starscream’s chassis, even his vents paused. “Star?”
“I told you I had a surprise.” Starscream dragged a hand down his frame and palmed his own spike, giving it a squeeze. “You’re not the only one who can get a mod.”
Grimlock’s visor flared. His engine rumbled. “That’s why you’ve been disinterested in ‘facing for a week.”
Starscream chuckled. “It can take that long for the adjustments to settle.” He wriggled his hips, activating the rippling sensation again, and catching a strangled noise in his mate’s intake. “Wheeljack tells me you’ve never fully engaged your mod because you’ve never emptied your transfluid tank. That you can’t.”
Embarrassment flickered in Grimlock’s field. “You talked to Wheeljack.”
Heat tinted Starscream’s cheeks. That had been an interesting conversation. “Needs must.” He twitched his hips, clenching around Grimlock’s spike and provoking another shiver from his mate. “He said there’s a safety mechanism built into the mod so that you can’t hurt your partner by releasing too much transfluid.”
“I knew that.” Grimlock’s hands swept up and down Starscream’s sides as if to reassure.
Starscream’s lips pulled into a slow grin. “But what you don’t know is that I came with more than one surprise.” His hand landed on his lower abdomen, giving it a little pat. “I’ve had a small adjustment to make sure that’s no longer a problem. You can overload until you drain your tank. And I can take it.”
Grimlock growled, the sound echoing in his chassis, his grip sliding to Starscream’s hips and tightening. “I love you.”
“I know.” Starscream swallowed down a laugh and slid his hands back around Grimlock’s arms, leaning forward to deepen the press of the spike within him. “Now frag me,” he purred.
The shudder that rippled across Grimlock’s armor, followed by a burst of drizzling heat in his field, was all the confirmation Starscream needed to know his surprise had been very, very welcome.
Hah.
Grimlock would think twice about ignoring him again, now wouldn’t he?
