dracoqueen22 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dracoqueen22) wrote2022-07-25 07:26 am
dracoqueen22) wrote2022-07-25 07:26 am
Entry tags:
[G1] Research and Development
COMMISSION for Baird Cravan
Title: Research and Development
Universe: G1
Characters: Skywarp/Starscream
Rating: M
Enticements: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Oral Sex, Desk Sex, Penetrative Sex
Summary: Skywarp likes to, err, meet and greet all new arrivals, so to speak, so when he hears about the shiny new Seeker he just has to introduce himself.
Rumor has it there’s a new recruit, which in itself, isn’t that unusual. The Decepticon resistance has swelled its ranks exponentially these cycles as more and more mechs realize Cybertron isn’t going to change anytime soon. Not unless they rise up and do something about it.
This new mech though. Scuttlebutt is that Megatron recruited him personally, and that’s the kind of mech Skywarp has to meet. Anyone who’s caught Megatron’s attention has to be worth knowing. More than that, though, they must be worth testing. Tasting. That sort of thing.
Skywarp’s particularly good at testing. Which is why he’s currently in the section of the old, abandoned factory they’ve partitioned for use for the scientists. The new recruit is supposed to be some hotshot physicist who’s finally going to give that stodgy old Shockwave some competition. They might even get some fancy new weapons to show that Senate who they really should fear.
Skywarp only gets lost two or three times while he’s in the science warehouse. Usually, he’s only here for Keystroke to run one of many, many tests in a desperate attempt to duplicate Skywarp’s warping capabilities. But Keystroke’s lab is not the same as the new Seeker’s lab, and Skywarp has a map, but somehow, he keeps making wrong turns.
Getting distracted is what Thundercracker would say. Feh.
Skywarp pauses at a T-intersection, consults his map, and turns to the left. He’s pretty sure Starscream – that’s the new recruit’s designation – has his laboratory in this direction. Skywarp hasn’t laid optics on Starscream yet, but he’s heard the new Seeker is absolutely gorgeous, not to mention brilliant. And well, how can Skywarp resist that kind of package?
He’s got to see for himself. Starscream sounds like the kind of mech Skywarp absolutely has to taste. Thus wandering around the research center. Only getting lost twice.
Skywarp finds himself at a dead-end, frowns, and looks at his map again.
Okay. Three times.
A course correction later, Skywarp finally stands outside the laboratory with the shiny new nameplate on the outside – Starscream. He’s in the right place. Yes! He pumps a fist into the air and palms the door open.
It refuses with a blat.
Well. A locked door isn’t going to stop Skywarp. He’s one of the few mechs in the entirety of the Decepticon resistance that it can’t stop.
Vorrrp.
Skywarp pops past the door and pretends to dust himself off. Ah, that never gets old. Tingly all over, a feeling like the world pulls sideways, and then he’s wherever he imagined himself to be. Luckily, he finally got the hang of warping to the other side of doors. Most of them are the same thickness but some of them.
Some of them aren’t and owww.
Anyway. This is a small lab compared to the one Keystroke haunts, and there’s only one mech visible at the massive console that takes up half the limited space in here. He’s a Seeker all right, with those pretty, pretty wings and his thruster-heels. He’s shiny all over, like fresh off the assembly line, and his armor is a lovely mix of gray and red and blue.
Mmm. Skywarp really wants to lick those blue stripes and his red hip assembly practically screams ‘frag me’. It’s begging for attention.
“Wow. You’re gorgeous,” Skywarp says before his processor catches up with his mouth and realizes, oops, maybe he should introduce himself first? He did kind of invite himself inside.
Most mechs here would greet that kind of thing with a blaster. Skywarp’s been shot a few times, much to Thundercracker’s exasperation and Hook’s glee.
Starscream, however, only gives him a brief glance with some coal-fire crimson optics before he says, “I was informed I’d get an assistant. Is that you?”
Oh, his voice. His voice is this sharp raspy thing, like he’s used his vocalizer past the point of no return one too many times, but it’s tone that’s the thing. This tone of absolute confidence that makes Skywarp shiver all over.
Then Skywarp rewinds and replays what Starscream actually said.
“Wait. Your assistant? No way.” Skywarp shakes his hands and his head. “I’m not allowed near this stuff.” He tucks his hands behind his back and inches closer. “I’m Skywarp.”
“I’ve heard of you.” Starscream turns his full attention back to the console, images popping up all over the massive monitor. “Keystroke’s project, right? The teleporter.”
Skywarp beams. “That’s me!” He peers up at the screen, but he can’t make sense of the equations and glyphs flashing across it. Whatever Starscream’s working on, it’s advanced stuff. He at least kind of understand’s Keystroke’s babble.
Skywarp can calculate vertices and physics faster than most mechs can add and subtract. He kind of needs to in order to warp places without blowing himself to bits. But that stuff on the screen is beyond him. It’s not physics. It’s something else. Though he does recognize the schematics for some kind of a weapon – a really powerful blaster maybe.
“He hasn’t asked my advice yet. But he will,” Starscream says as if it’s a foregone conclusion. There’s a touch of a smirk in the corner of his lips and frag yeah, Skywarp loves him a mech with confidence.
“You want to do experiments on me?” Skywarp asks. Maybe bind him down, strap him up, immobilize him? Oh, that sounds kind of nice actually. Especially if Starscream then climbs on top of him, rides him, too?
Starscream’s wings flick up and then down. “Eventually. Though I’m far too busy for it right now.” He shifts his weight, hips cocking to one side. Skywarp only notices because he can’t drag his gaze away from those hips.
“Doing what?”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t understand,” Starscream says with a sniff and a twitch of his wings that raises them up – proud and arrogant.
He hasn’t so much as turned and given Skywarp a second look. His hands haven’t stopped moving across the input system, and how he’s managing to keep up a conversation plus those equations on the screen is fragging amazing. He’s some kind of genius.
Still. Skywarp came here for a reason, and a little bit of a cold shoulder isn’t enough to deter him. Starscream’s standoffish, but he hasn’t told Skywarp to leave, and Decepticons tend to be real slagging firm when they want to be left alone. Skywarp has a few dents and paint-gouges to prove it.
“Well, I think you ought to take a break,” he says as he leans in close, reaching out with warm, inviting tendrils of his field. Just a tentative touch. Testing the jetstream, so to speak.
“I’m fine,” Starscream says in a tone so flat it has to be practiced.
Skywarp nudges a little harder, gets his first taste of Starscream’s field, which is as chilly and indifferent as the mech himself. “Are you sure? I’d love to welcome you to the Decepticons properly. If you get my drift.” He winks and sends a shiver through his field.
Subtlety? This is as much as Skywarp can manage. It worked on Thundercracker, for all that he complains Skywarp has all the nuance of a brick to the head.
Starscream, however, doesn’t bite. “I’m too busy to indulge you,” he sniffs, but oh-ho, what’s this?
Starscream’s field reaches back out, warm and just a bit buzzy on the edges. Like he’s interested but doesn’t want to say it. Like he’s laying out a challenge.
Skywarp can never resist a good challenge.
“You should find someone else to bother,” Starscream says aloud, but his field says stay, stay, stay.
Delicious.
“Awww.” Skywarp leans closer, gets a whiff of the sweet-tangy polish Starscream laved all over his armor, and heat stirs in his belly. It’s like Starscream wants to be licked. “You shouldn’t work so hard. There’s time to have fun, too. You know?”
Starscream’s head tilts away from him, just so, his gaze locked on the screen. “Mmm,” he hums, dismissive, disinterested. His field, however, doesn’t withdraw. The curliest edges wrap around Skywarp’s seeking tendrils and tug.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, friends.
Skywarp sidles closer and gives in to the urge to drag a fingertip along the leading edge of Starscream’s wing – a sensitive spot for most Seekers. He feels the resulting shiver in Starscream’s field and sees the tiniest twitch in the tessellated plates along the back of Starscream’s wing.
“Gorgeous,” Skywarp murmurs and licks his lips to hide the fact he’s this close to drooling. Starscream’s field is five flavors of heat, his polish smells too damn good, and Skywarp swears those painted lines are done to deliberately draw the optic to multiple erogenous zones.
Starscream, however, says, “Do I look like I want to be bothered?” in a waspish tone, even as his wing tilts and pushes toward Skywarp’s hand.
Such a contrary mech, he is.
“You look like you need to be bothered,” Skywarp says.
He’s never been great at resisting temptation, so he leans in and takes a nip at the very tip of Starscream’s wing, at the end of a thick red line.
“Why don’t you let me?” Skywarp purrs as the sweet tang of the polish dances on his tongue “I’m told I’m pretty good at it.”
“This job is important,” Starscream says, but his ventilations hitch, and even to Skywarp, it’s a weak argument. His wing has gone still under Skywarp’s mouth, and his armor has lifted away from his substructure as if to vent heat.
So it’s like that, is it?
Delight floods Skywarp’s spark. He embraces Starscream from behind, and his grin widens when he realizes he’s just a touch broader, a touch taller, a touch bigger in every way. His hands fit perfectly on the new Seeker’s hips, and the tiny thrum of Starscream’s engine vibrates through his whole frame.
“Come on,” he cajoles as his fingers slide along armor seams. “Lemme eat you out at least. Bet you taste good.”
Starscream cycles a vent. “I… I am very busy,” he says, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
More importantly! He’s not saying no. He’s not pushing Skywarp away. He’s not powering up either of those cute little blasters on his lower arms. Fascinating.
Skywarp presses up against him, their armor coming into delicious contact, and Starscream shivers in his arms. Skywarp grins, ex-venting over the back of Starscream’s audial as he murmurs, “Don’t let me stop you from working then. Just open right up and I’ll take care of everything.”
A sigh gusts out of Starscream’s vents as if he’s been beset by a very irritating kremzeek, but what Skywarp hears next isn’t Starscream demanding he leave. It’s the distinct click of a valve panel opening, and Skywarp knows it’s not his own. He slips one hand between Starscream’s thighs and purrs when his fingers find plump valve folds and slide into sticky heat.
Oh, he’s too busy, is he? But this sweet little valve of his wants to take a break, doesn’t it? Skywarp grins and curves his fingers into Starscream, seeking out every charged node to say hello. Starscream shivers and sags, thighs inching apart to make more room. The clickity-clack of his fingers on the board have all but stopped.
Skywarp gives in and licks the back of Starscream’s wing, tasting the thin blue stripe and mmm. He nibbles on the edge of an aileron, and Starscream’s engine purrs at him. Yummy.
“Enough,” Starscream hisses as his hands slam onto the desk, fingers curving, talons scraping a thin furrow into the surface. “Stop wasting time and frag me already.” He pitches forward, aft tilted up, like he’s presenting himself.
“Well,” Skywarp purrs as he flicks his fingers over Starscream’s anterior node. “If you insist.” He grinds against Starscream’s aft and sighs as his spike extends, the head tasting Starscream’s valve.
Starscream huffs and shoves his aft back, impatient and hungry. He’s still staring at the screen, but the steady scrawl of calculations have stopped. Skywarp grins and rolls his hips, sinking to the hilt in Starscream. He groans as he’s eclipsed by molten heat, and Starscream tightens down around him, calipers twitching hungrily.
Skywarp licks his lips and plants a hand on Starscream’s back, between his wing mounts. “You’re busy,” he teases as he pumps his hips into Starscream’s delicious valve. “I’ll make it quick.” He pushes down, flattening Starscream across his desk, and Starscream goes willingly.
Well, mostly.
Starscream hisses, and his wings twitch as he snarls, “Irritating pest,” but it’s immediately followed by a moan and a clench and a shudder, so Skywarp’s having a hard time believing the insult.
Especially when Starscream digs his talons into the desk and pushes back against Skywarp, shoving Skywarp’s spike deeper. There’s a secondary click as Starscream’s spike emerges, though Skywarp can’t see it, and the head of it must be grinding against the desk. Nice.
“Harder!” Starscream demands as his valve spirals tighter and clutches eagerly at Skywarp’s spike, his field an electric pulse of want, want, want.
Skywarp is delighted to oblige. He grabs Starscream by the hips and increases his pace, slamming harder and harder into Starscream with each thrust. The other Seeker gasps and cants his hips so Skywarp can go deeper, and his wing plates shiver. Blue charge licks out from beneath his armor.
“Shouldn’t you be – hnggh – working?” Skywarp can’t help but tease as he slams into Starscream and then circles his hips, grinding deep against Starscream’s ceiling node.
“Shut up!” Starscream pants and pushes back into each thrust, lubricant squeezing out around Skywarp’s spike to slick his thighs. “Harder, damn it.”
Skywarp grins and licks his lips. “I can do that.” He increases his pace, long and deep strokes designed to make all those nodes sing.
Ohh, it makes Starscream sing, too. He tosses his head back, moans, and his valve cycles hungrily around Skywarp’s spike. He’s hot and twitchy, field wrapping tight around Skywarp and refusing to let him be. Clearly, Starscream hasn’t been fragged enough if he’s this hungry.
Skywarp shudders and sinks into Starscream, again and again, Starscream’s nodes feeding his spike sensors charge burst after charge burst. It twists and turns inside Skywarp, making his lines thrum and his internals tighten. It feels too damn good, and Starscream’s too damn pretty.
Frag.
Skywarp shudders and blats out static as he shoves deep and spurts into Starscream’s valve, the overload sending streaks across his vision. Oh, damn that’s good. He rolls his hips, drawing out the waves of ecstasy, feeding Starscream every drop. He presses deep and lingers, twitching.
“You’re not done!” Starscream snarls with impatient bucks of his hips. “Are you as selfish as you are irritating?”
“Sheesh, do you ever stop complaining?” Skywarp asks, purely rhetorical, as he withdraws and pulls Starscream a few inches away from the console. “Don’t worry. I got this.”
“You had better!” Starscream hisses.
Skywarp rolls his optics, grabs Starscream and spins him around. Starscream stumbles at the unexpected show of strength – Skywarp’s way stronger than he lets people know about – and his aft bumps the edge of the console as Skywarp drops to his knees. Oh, Starscream’s spike is as pretty as he is, and Skywarp licks his lips and presses a kiss to the tip.
Starscream makes a strangled noise. No smart remark? Skywarp looks up and sees Starscream’s optics dark and hungry.
Skywarp winks and sucks Starscream down, all the way to the root, in a single swallow. Starscream’s grip on the edge of the console crumples the metal. He gasps, tosses his head back, tries to buck, but Skywarp’s holding him in place. He manages two, three squeezes of his intake and then Starscream’s helplessly spilling into his mouth, spurt after spurt of transfluid.
Yup.
Still got it.
Skywarp suckles at Starscream a little longer, until Starscream squirms from the overstimulation. Only then does Skywarp let Starscream slip from his mouth with a parting kiss to the softening length.
Skywarp stands, licking his lips clean. “Good?” he asks as he gets his hands on those pretty hips and between Starscream’s thighs, nuzzling into Starscream’s intake. He inhales and brushes his lips over Starscream’s cables.
Starscream huffs and turns his head away, nose turned up. “I’m now behind in my work.” He spins away from Skywarp, nearly slapping him with a wing, and turns his attention back to his console.
Such a contrary Seeker. Fortunately, Skywarp likes a challenge.
“My sincere apologies,” Skywarp lies as he thumbs a small drop of escaped transfluid from the corner of his mouth. He wonders if he can convince Starscream for a second round. He still really wants to get his mouth on Starscream’s valve.
The monitor flashes. Glyphs and calculations scroll across the screen. Starscream’s wings twitch, and then he says, “Well?”
Skywarp cycles his optics. “Well what?” Is Starscream after an apology? Praise?
“Did I pass your ridiculous test?” Starscream demands with a brief glance over his shoulder. “Is that not why you bothered me?”
It takes Skywarp a fraction of a second too long to understand what the frag Starscream is talking about, and then he can’t help but laugh. “Wait, did you take that seriously?”
Embarrassment screams in Starscream’s field, but his mouth sets itself into a fierce scowl. “Of course not!” he snaps. “I was recruited by Megatron personally. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me at all.” He whips back around to face his computer, his field a mix of offended and embarrassed, his wings all twitchy.
Adorable.
Skywarp drags a finger along the edge of the wing he hasn’t tasted yet and grins as Starscream visibly shivers. “You definitely pass,” he says. “Wanna grab some engex later? My treat.”
Starscream sniffs, but his wing twitches nearer to Skywarp’s hand. “It’s the least you can do to make up for your rude behavior. Now go. I’m busy.” He stares extra hard at his computer and plucks at the board with extra slow precision.
Oh, ho. That attitude might fool someone else, but it’s too late. Skywarp has gotten a taste and now he wants more. He’s seen Starscream melt on his spike and beg for it faster, harder, and more.
No way is he letting Starscream slip through his fingers. He can’t wait to tell Thundercracker about this.
Skywarp grins and sees himself out.
This time, he only gets lost once.
***
Title: Research and Development
Universe: G1
Characters: Skywarp/Starscream
Rating: M
Enticements: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Oral Sex, Desk Sex, Penetrative Sex
Summary: Skywarp likes to, err, meet and greet all new arrivals, so to speak, so when he hears about the shiny new Seeker he just has to introduce himself.
Rumor has it there’s a new recruit, which in itself, isn’t that unusual. The Decepticon resistance has swelled its ranks exponentially these cycles as more and more mechs realize Cybertron isn’t going to change anytime soon. Not unless they rise up and do something about it.
This new mech though. Scuttlebutt is that Megatron recruited him personally, and that’s the kind of mech Skywarp has to meet. Anyone who’s caught Megatron’s attention has to be worth knowing. More than that, though, they must be worth testing. Tasting. That sort of thing.
Skywarp’s particularly good at testing. Which is why he’s currently in the section of the old, abandoned factory they’ve partitioned for use for the scientists. The new recruit is supposed to be some hotshot physicist who’s finally going to give that stodgy old Shockwave some competition. They might even get some fancy new weapons to show that Senate who they really should fear.
Skywarp only gets lost two or three times while he’s in the science warehouse. Usually, he’s only here for Keystroke to run one of many, many tests in a desperate attempt to duplicate Skywarp’s warping capabilities. But Keystroke’s lab is not the same as the new Seeker’s lab, and Skywarp has a map, but somehow, he keeps making wrong turns.
Getting distracted is what Thundercracker would say. Feh.
Skywarp pauses at a T-intersection, consults his map, and turns to the left. He’s pretty sure Starscream – that’s the new recruit’s designation – has his laboratory in this direction. Skywarp hasn’t laid optics on Starscream yet, but he’s heard the new Seeker is absolutely gorgeous, not to mention brilliant. And well, how can Skywarp resist that kind of package?
He’s got to see for himself. Starscream sounds like the kind of mech Skywarp absolutely has to taste. Thus wandering around the research center. Only getting lost twice.
Skywarp finds himself at a dead-end, frowns, and looks at his map again.
Okay. Three times.
A course correction later, Skywarp finally stands outside the laboratory with the shiny new nameplate on the outside – Starscream. He’s in the right place. Yes! He pumps a fist into the air and palms the door open.
It refuses with a blat.
Well. A locked door isn’t going to stop Skywarp. He’s one of the few mechs in the entirety of the Decepticon resistance that it can’t stop.
Vorrrp.
Skywarp pops past the door and pretends to dust himself off. Ah, that never gets old. Tingly all over, a feeling like the world pulls sideways, and then he’s wherever he imagined himself to be. Luckily, he finally got the hang of warping to the other side of doors. Most of them are the same thickness but some of them.
Some of them aren’t and owww.
Anyway. This is a small lab compared to the one Keystroke haunts, and there’s only one mech visible at the massive console that takes up half the limited space in here. He’s a Seeker all right, with those pretty, pretty wings and his thruster-heels. He’s shiny all over, like fresh off the assembly line, and his armor is a lovely mix of gray and red and blue.
Mmm. Skywarp really wants to lick those blue stripes and his red hip assembly practically screams ‘frag me’. It’s begging for attention.
“Wow. You’re gorgeous,” Skywarp says before his processor catches up with his mouth and realizes, oops, maybe he should introduce himself first? He did kind of invite himself inside.
Most mechs here would greet that kind of thing with a blaster. Skywarp’s been shot a few times, much to Thundercracker’s exasperation and Hook’s glee.
Starscream, however, only gives him a brief glance with some coal-fire crimson optics before he says, “I was informed I’d get an assistant. Is that you?”
Oh, his voice. His voice is this sharp raspy thing, like he’s used his vocalizer past the point of no return one too many times, but it’s tone that’s the thing. This tone of absolute confidence that makes Skywarp shiver all over.
Then Skywarp rewinds and replays what Starscream actually said.
“Wait. Your assistant? No way.” Skywarp shakes his hands and his head. “I’m not allowed near this stuff.” He tucks his hands behind his back and inches closer. “I’m Skywarp.”
“I’ve heard of you.” Starscream turns his full attention back to the console, images popping up all over the massive monitor. “Keystroke’s project, right? The teleporter.”
Skywarp beams. “That’s me!” He peers up at the screen, but he can’t make sense of the equations and glyphs flashing across it. Whatever Starscream’s working on, it’s advanced stuff. He at least kind of understand’s Keystroke’s babble.
Skywarp can calculate vertices and physics faster than most mechs can add and subtract. He kind of needs to in order to warp places without blowing himself to bits. But that stuff on the screen is beyond him. It’s not physics. It’s something else. Though he does recognize the schematics for some kind of a weapon – a really powerful blaster maybe.
“He hasn’t asked my advice yet. But he will,” Starscream says as if it’s a foregone conclusion. There’s a touch of a smirk in the corner of his lips and frag yeah, Skywarp loves him a mech with confidence.
“You want to do experiments on me?” Skywarp asks. Maybe bind him down, strap him up, immobilize him? Oh, that sounds kind of nice actually. Especially if Starscream then climbs on top of him, rides him, too?
Starscream’s wings flick up and then down. “Eventually. Though I’m far too busy for it right now.” He shifts his weight, hips cocking to one side. Skywarp only notices because he can’t drag his gaze away from those hips.
“Doing what?”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t understand,” Starscream says with a sniff and a twitch of his wings that raises them up – proud and arrogant.
He hasn’t so much as turned and given Skywarp a second look. His hands haven’t stopped moving across the input system, and how he’s managing to keep up a conversation plus those equations on the screen is fragging amazing. He’s some kind of genius.
Still. Skywarp came here for a reason, and a little bit of a cold shoulder isn’t enough to deter him. Starscream’s standoffish, but he hasn’t told Skywarp to leave, and Decepticons tend to be real slagging firm when they want to be left alone. Skywarp has a few dents and paint-gouges to prove it.
“Well, I think you ought to take a break,” he says as he leans in close, reaching out with warm, inviting tendrils of his field. Just a tentative touch. Testing the jetstream, so to speak.
“I’m fine,” Starscream says in a tone so flat it has to be practiced.
Skywarp nudges a little harder, gets his first taste of Starscream’s field, which is as chilly and indifferent as the mech himself. “Are you sure? I’d love to welcome you to the Decepticons properly. If you get my drift.” He winks and sends a shiver through his field.
Subtlety? This is as much as Skywarp can manage. It worked on Thundercracker, for all that he complains Skywarp has all the nuance of a brick to the head.
Starscream, however, doesn’t bite. “I’m too busy to indulge you,” he sniffs, but oh-ho, what’s this?
Starscream’s field reaches back out, warm and just a bit buzzy on the edges. Like he’s interested but doesn’t want to say it. Like he’s laying out a challenge.
Skywarp can never resist a good challenge.
“You should find someone else to bother,” Starscream says aloud, but his field says stay, stay, stay.
Delicious.
“Awww.” Skywarp leans closer, gets a whiff of the sweet-tangy polish Starscream laved all over his armor, and heat stirs in his belly. It’s like Starscream wants to be licked. “You shouldn’t work so hard. There’s time to have fun, too. You know?”
Starscream’s head tilts away from him, just so, his gaze locked on the screen. “Mmm,” he hums, dismissive, disinterested. His field, however, doesn’t withdraw. The curliest edges wrap around Skywarp’s seeking tendrils and tug.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, friends.
Skywarp sidles closer and gives in to the urge to drag a fingertip along the leading edge of Starscream’s wing – a sensitive spot for most Seekers. He feels the resulting shiver in Starscream’s field and sees the tiniest twitch in the tessellated plates along the back of Starscream’s wing.
“Gorgeous,” Skywarp murmurs and licks his lips to hide the fact he’s this close to drooling. Starscream’s field is five flavors of heat, his polish smells too damn good, and Skywarp swears those painted lines are done to deliberately draw the optic to multiple erogenous zones.
Starscream, however, says, “Do I look like I want to be bothered?” in a waspish tone, even as his wing tilts and pushes toward Skywarp’s hand.
Such a contrary mech, he is.
“You look like you need to be bothered,” Skywarp says.
He’s never been great at resisting temptation, so he leans in and takes a nip at the very tip of Starscream’s wing, at the end of a thick red line.
“Why don’t you let me?” Skywarp purrs as the sweet tang of the polish dances on his tongue “I’m told I’m pretty good at it.”
“This job is important,” Starscream says, but his ventilations hitch, and even to Skywarp, it’s a weak argument. His wing has gone still under Skywarp’s mouth, and his armor has lifted away from his substructure as if to vent heat.
So it’s like that, is it?
Delight floods Skywarp’s spark. He embraces Starscream from behind, and his grin widens when he realizes he’s just a touch broader, a touch taller, a touch bigger in every way. His hands fit perfectly on the new Seeker’s hips, and the tiny thrum of Starscream’s engine vibrates through his whole frame.
“Come on,” he cajoles as his fingers slide along armor seams. “Lemme eat you out at least. Bet you taste good.”
Starscream cycles a vent. “I… I am very busy,” he says, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
More importantly! He’s not saying no. He’s not pushing Skywarp away. He’s not powering up either of those cute little blasters on his lower arms. Fascinating.
Skywarp presses up against him, their armor coming into delicious contact, and Starscream shivers in his arms. Skywarp grins, ex-venting over the back of Starscream’s audial as he murmurs, “Don’t let me stop you from working then. Just open right up and I’ll take care of everything.”
A sigh gusts out of Starscream’s vents as if he’s been beset by a very irritating kremzeek, but what Skywarp hears next isn’t Starscream demanding he leave. It’s the distinct click of a valve panel opening, and Skywarp knows it’s not his own. He slips one hand between Starscream’s thighs and purrs when his fingers find plump valve folds and slide into sticky heat.
Oh, he’s too busy, is he? But this sweet little valve of his wants to take a break, doesn’t it? Skywarp grins and curves his fingers into Starscream, seeking out every charged node to say hello. Starscream shivers and sags, thighs inching apart to make more room. The clickity-clack of his fingers on the board have all but stopped.
Skywarp gives in and licks the back of Starscream’s wing, tasting the thin blue stripe and mmm. He nibbles on the edge of an aileron, and Starscream’s engine purrs at him. Yummy.
“Enough,” Starscream hisses as his hands slam onto the desk, fingers curving, talons scraping a thin furrow into the surface. “Stop wasting time and frag me already.” He pitches forward, aft tilted up, like he’s presenting himself.
“Well,” Skywarp purrs as he flicks his fingers over Starscream’s anterior node. “If you insist.” He grinds against Starscream’s aft and sighs as his spike extends, the head tasting Starscream’s valve.
Starscream huffs and shoves his aft back, impatient and hungry. He’s still staring at the screen, but the steady scrawl of calculations have stopped. Skywarp grins and rolls his hips, sinking to the hilt in Starscream. He groans as he’s eclipsed by molten heat, and Starscream tightens down around him, calipers twitching hungrily.
Skywarp licks his lips and plants a hand on Starscream’s back, between his wing mounts. “You’re busy,” he teases as he pumps his hips into Starscream’s delicious valve. “I’ll make it quick.” He pushes down, flattening Starscream across his desk, and Starscream goes willingly.
Well, mostly.
Starscream hisses, and his wings twitch as he snarls, “Irritating pest,” but it’s immediately followed by a moan and a clench and a shudder, so Skywarp’s having a hard time believing the insult.
Especially when Starscream digs his talons into the desk and pushes back against Skywarp, shoving Skywarp’s spike deeper. There’s a secondary click as Starscream’s spike emerges, though Skywarp can’t see it, and the head of it must be grinding against the desk. Nice.
“Harder!” Starscream demands as his valve spirals tighter and clutches eagerly at Skywarp’s spike, his field an electric pulse of want, want, want.
Skywarp is delighted to oblige. He grabs Starscream by the hips and increases his pace, slamming harder and harder into Starscream with each thrust. The other Seeker gasps and cants his hips so Skywarp can go deeper, and his wing plates shiver. Blue charge licks out from beneath his armor.
“Shouldn’t you be – hnggh – working?” Skywarp can’t help but tease as he slams into Starscream and then circles his hips, grinding deep against Starscream’s ceiling node.
“Shut up!” Starscream pants and pushes back into each thrust, lubricant squeezing out around Skywarp’s spike to slick his thighs. “Harder, damn it.”
Skywarp grins and licks his lips. “I can do that.” He increases his pace, long and deep strokes designed to make all those nodes sing.
Ohh, it makes Starscream sing, too. He tosses his head back, moans, and his valve cycles hungrily around Skywarp’s spike. He’s hot and twitchy, field wrapping tight around Skywarp and refusing to let him be. Clearly, Starscream hasn’t been fragged enough if he’s this hungry.
Skywarp shudders and sinks into Starscream, again and again, Starscream’s nodes feeding his spike sensors charge burst after charge burst. It twists and turns inside Skywarp, making his lines thrum and his internals tighten. It feels too damn good, and Starscream’s too damn pretty.
Frag.
Skywarp shudders and blats out static as he shoves deep and spurts into Starscream’s valve, the overload sending streaks across his vision. Oh, damn that’s good. He rolls his hips, drawing out the waves of ecstasy, feeding Starscream every drop. He presses deep and lingers, twitching.
“You’re not done!” Starscream snarls with impatient bucks of his hips. “Are you as selfish as you are irritating?”
“Sheesh, do you ever stop complaining?” Skywarp asks, purely rhetorical, as he withdraws and pulls Starscream a few inches away from the console. “Don’t worry. I got this.”
“You had better!” Starscream hisses.
Skywarp rolls his optics, grabs Starscream and spins him around. Starscream stumbles at the unexpected show of strength – Skywarp’s way stronger than he lets people know about – and his aft bumps the edge of the console as Skywarp drops to his knees. Oh, Starscream’s spike is as pretty as he is, and Skywarp licks his lips and presses a kiss to the tip.
Starscream makes a strangled noise. No smart remark? Skywarp looks up and sees Starscream’s optics dark and hungry.
Skywarp winks and sucks Starscream down, all the way to the root, in a single swallow. Starscream’s grip on the edge of the console crumples the metal. He gasps, tosses his head back, tries to buck, but Skywarp’s holding him in place. He manages two, three squeezes of his intake and then Starscream’s helplessly spilling into his mouth, spurt after spurt of transfluid.
Yup.
Still got it.
Skywarp suckles at Starscream a little longer, until Starscream squirms from the overstimulation. Only then does Skywarp let Starscream slip from his mouth with a parting kiss to the softening length.
Skywarp stands, licking his lips clean. “Good?” he asks as he gets his hands on those pretty hips and between Starscream’s thighs, nuzzling into Starscream’s intake. He inhales and brushes his lips over Starscream’s cables.
Starscream huffs and turns his head away, nose turned up. “I’m now behind in my work.” He spins away from Skywarp, nearly slapping him with a wing, and turns his attention back to his console.
Such a contrary Seeker. Fortunately, Skywarp likes a challenge.
“My sincere apologies,” Skywarp lies as he thumbs a small drop of escaped transfluid from the corner of his mouth. He wonders if he can convince Starscream for a second round. He still really wants to get his mouth on Starscream’s valve.
The monitor flashes. Glyphs and calculations scroll across the screen. Starscream’s wings twitch, and then he says, “Well?”
Skywarp cycles his optics. “Well what?” Is Starscream after an apology? Praise?
“Did I pass your ridiculous test?” Starscream demands with a brief glance over his shoulder. “Is that not why you bothered me?”
It takes Skywarp a fraction of a second too long to understand what the frag Starscream is talking about, and then he can’t help but laugh. “Wait, did you take that seriously?”
Embarrassment screams in Starscream’s field, but his mouth sets itself into a fierce scowl. “Of course not!” he snaps. “I was recruited by Megatron personally. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me at all.” He whips back around to face his computer, his field a mix of offended and embarrassed, his wings all twitchy.
Adorable.
Skywarp drags a finger along the edge of the wing he hasn’t tasted yet and grins as Starscream visibly shivers. “You definitely pass,” he says. “Wanna grab some engex later? My treat.”
Starscream sniffs, but his wing twitches nearer to Skywarp’s hand. “It’s the least you can do to make up for your rude behavior. Now go. I’m busy.” He stares extra hard at his computer and plucks at the board with extra slow precision.
Oh, ho. That attitude might fool someone else, but it’s too late. Skywarp has gotten a taste and now he wants more. He’s seen Starscream melt on his spike and beg for it faster, harder, and more.
No way is he letting Starscream slip through his fingers. He can’t wait to tell Thundercracker about this.
Skywarp grins and sees himself out.
This time, he only gets lost once.