Flash Fiction Fills Take 65 Part Two
For roseymoseyberry
Prompt: TFP Optimus/Ratchet
Fandom: Transformers Prime. Warnings: None
It started with the little things.
The way his engine snuffled when we went without energon for too long. The way he grumped about all of the little pests running about under-pede, but would sit and patiently listen to Rafael anyway. The little scuff on his backplate that really needed buffing out, but Optimus had yet to bring himself to offer his aid.
It did, however, provide an excellent excuse when Ratchet caught him staring one day.
"You have a scuff," he said.
Ratchet blinked at him. "A what?"
"A scuff." Optimus gestured vaguely to his backplate. "When was the last time you visited the washracks?"
"Hah. Those narrow things? Only Arcee fits in there." Ratchet harrumphed and turned back to the space bridge controls, leaning over to dig deep into the gears.
He had to be doing that on purpose. Because there was aft, suddenly, and Optimus was supposed to be a gentlemech who didn't look.
Except that he did.
He wasn't sure if that counted as a 'little thing'.
"You could ask for help," Optimus pointed out with a little cough of his ventilations.
"Are you volunteering?" Ratchet's vocals echoed from within the console. He also muttered a curse, but even that was endearing as of late.
Optimus' gaze wandered back to the medic's, well, back. The antenna protruding from Ratchet's pack wiggled as he did. It was oddly hypnotizing.
"Yes, of course. I am always willing to lend a hand, old friend," Optimus replied. His faceplate heated.
This was, hm, this was surprising, to say the least. He'd always been close to Ratchet, but recently, it somehow started being more.
The gray aft, delightfully accented in red, wriggled. "Then get your aft over here and help me with this. I need more than two hands."
Optimus blinked. "But the scuff?"
"The scuff can wait. This spitting circuit can't."
Very well then. Optimus eased himself to the other side of the console and lent a hand. As much as he was capable at any rate. There wasn't much room for him to work with.
It was the little things, he noticed as Ratchet muttered another curse and made some reference to the poor quality of Earth-based materials.
The little things that were developing into a rather large crush Optimus could have never expected.
For rayearthmagic
Prompt: TFP Wheeljack/Ultra Magnus
Fandom: Transformers Prime, S3. Warnings: None.
The lack of necessary materials on Earth was never more apparent than now. Bumblebee's transformation cog had been repaired. Bulkhead's mobility returned to him. And Ultra Magnus was left with this... claw.
He stared down at the makeshift limb and flexed the three digits. Open-close. Open-close. Well, he would be capable of the basics at least. It was better than no hand at all, he reasoned.
Open-close. Open-close.
"I kinda like it, actually."
Ultra Magnus looked up. Wheeljack stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. It was a casual pose, his arms folded, the tip of one pede braced against the ground.
"You would probably consider it a badge of honor," Ultra Magnus said as he dropped his gaze back to the claw-hand. Open-close. Open-close. At least, it moved.
"Well, it ain't an insult, that's for sure." Wheeljack pushed himself off the jamb and strode inside. One hand lifted, brushing over the multitude of scars on his face. "I figure it's a trophy. Proof that I'm still alive."
"A trophy," Ultra Magnus repeated. He couldn't hide the doubt in his tone.
"Yep." Wheeljack plopped himself down on the edge of the berth, not that there was much room. His hip pressed to Ultra Magnus'. "A little practice, and I guarantee, you won't even miss your old hand."
"I do not think I can share your enthusiasm," Ultra Magnus said with a little sigh.
Wheeljack smirked. "You sure about that?" He grabbed Ultra Magnus' pseudo-hand, warm fingers enclosing it about the wrist. "Maybe I can change your mind, eh?"
Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics. "I suspect that you are about to engage in some behavior that is against medical recommendations."
The Wrecker laughed. "I don't know what I did to give you that impression." He drew Ultra Magnus' pseudo-hand toward his lips, ex-venting damp heat over the clawed digits. "I mean, you're right. But still...."
Ultra Magnus' fingers twitched. He was actually surprised how much sensation he retained in them.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," Ultra Magnus started to say, but the rest of his protest dissolved into nothing as Wheeljack drew one of the claw tips between his lips, flicking his glossa over the tip of it.
Ultra Magnus' engine stuttered.
"Hmm," Wheeljack said. "I was right. I do like it." He winked and moved on to a different clawtip, laving the entire thing with his glossa. "Kinda wondering what it'd feel like in me, too. Think you'll indulge me later?"
Ultra Magnus worked his jaw, unable to ignore the lazy heat Wheeljack's boldness ignited in his groin. "So long as Ratchet approves."
Wheeljack laughed. "Doc isn't gonna approve of half of what I got in mind. Trust me."
Ultra Magnus twitched his hand, hooking one of his claws on Wheeljack's lip. When all it provoked was a spike in Wheeljack's field, and a rev of his engine, Ultra Magnus had to admit, maybe there was something to enjoy in this claw after all.
For meridianbarony
Prompt: IDW Optimus/Jazz
Fandom: IDW, ex-RID, post Dark-Cybertron. Warnings: implied sexual content
"Have I told ya how glad I am that yer back?"
Optimus chuckled and stroked his hand down Jazz's back, his former third arching beneath the touch not unlike an Earth feline. "Once or twice since this morning."
"Oh, is that all?" Jazz grinned down at him. He had his hands folded under his chin, braced as they were on Optimus' windshields. "Mebbe I should tell ya a few more times. So ya know not to go gallivanting off and leave me by my lonesome again."
Optimus folded his free arm behind his helm, propping himself up so that he could see Jazz better. "It was something of a necessity."
"Nah, just somethin' ya told yerself was necessary," Jazz retorted and then rolled his shoulders. "I ain't mad at cha. I know probably better than most of them out there how much ya were startin' to hurt."
"Not mad, no, but you were hurt." Optimus let his hand rest on Jazz's backstrut. "I would apologize for that, but mere words are not enough to suffice."
"Only if ya don't mean them. Kinda hard to say sometimes." Jazz's visor flashed at him, even as he wriggled. "Things been crazy here. You left me followin' Starscream, you know. How ya gonna make up for that?"
A conundrum indeed.
Optimus' hand shifted down to Jazz's aft, giving it a light pat. "I assumed you would tell me exactly how you intended for me to apologize."
The aft beneath his hand twitched. "Right there's a good start."
Optimus chuckled. "However did I guess?"
There were certain benefits to being nearly twice the size of your lover. Being able to pick him up easily was one of them. Optimus leveraged himself upright, sliding Jazz into his lap with ease, with the added bonus of teasing a surprised 'eep' from Jazz in the process.
"Now that's just unfair," Jazz said as wrapped his legs around Optimus' waist, grinding his closed array against Optimus' in the process. "You know how much I love it when ya toss me around like that."
"All is fair in love and war, is that not what you told me once?" Optimus asked as he curled a hand around Jazz's helm, thumb sweeping across Jazz's lips. "I learned from the best."
"Mm. That you did." Jazz pulled Optimus' thumb into his mouth, pressing it briefly between his denta. "You gotta lot of overloads to make up for, OP. I expect good ones."
Optimus leaned down, replacing his thumb with his lips. Jazz made a muffled sound of delight, diving into the kiss as though no time had passed between them at all.
"As many as I can manage and more," Optimus promised against Jazz's lips before he deepened the kiss, heat already winnowing its way through his lines.
Jazz grabbed his helm, keeping him in place, the kiss turning deep and biting. His grip was tight, unrelenting, as if to say 'you'd better not leave this time.'
Fortunately, Optimus had learned where he belonged. He had no intention of doing so again.
He held Jazz closer, gentling the kiss as much as he was able. Wherever he went in the future, he would make sure that he did not leave Jazz behind again.
He owed him that, and so much more.
For TheAirCommand
Prompt: Starscream/Blurr/Rodimus/Knock Out
Fandom: Transformers IDW, ex-RID. Warnings: implied sexual content, foursome
Overheating alarms were the first thing to stir Rodimus from a deep, restful recharge. He groaned and tried to roll away from his berth partner for some cooler ventilating air, but he was surrounded. On both sides. Odd.
Rodimus tried to wriggle downward, but well, there was weight on his legs, too. That... was a problem.
He forced himself to consciousness, peeling his optics open, a dull throb in the back of his processor reminding him of all the high grade and engex he'd consumed last night. It had been a lot. Ultra Magnus Disapproving Frown-lot.
Ow.
Staticky vision clarified into a blur of blue. Bright blue. No angles, but curved and polished plating. Wait. He knew those curves.
Rodimus squinted. Blurr? Yep. That was Blurr. Which meant it was probably Starscream behind him. Wouldn't be the first time.
Rodimus looked down. There was a bright red arm over his waist, ending in clawed fingers. Yep. That was Starscream. No wonder he was overheating. Starscream exuded heat in his recharge like no mech who had ever shared a berth with Rodimus.
So that left... Rodimus wriggled until he could look down, through the tangle of limbs that he kinda-sorta identified as his own, Blurr's and Starscream's, to see another blur of red, darker red this time. Rodimus wasn't sure he knew this red.
Well, no, that wasn't true. He must have gotten to know this shade of red pretty darn well last night if the pleasant ache in his valve was any indication. Hmm. Rodimus wracked his processor, but all of his memories were soaked in engex.
He'd had a good time. He knew that much. He'd laughed and teased and had enough overloads to short out a couple of circuits, if the fatigue in his frame was any indication.
"Stop squirming."
Ahh. That was Starscream.
"Can't," Rodimus said as he twitched. Starscream was ex-venting on his spoiler and it tickled. "M'hot."
"Fragging speedsters," the Seeker muttered. His arm vanished from Rodimus' waist as the berth rustled and he rolled over. Or at least tried to.
Red mech on Rodimus' legs was on Starscream's legs, too.
"I'm buried in grounders," Starscream said with a sigh, but at least it was a happy one. He jiggled one of his legs, resulting in a horrendous screech of metal on metal. "Knock Out! Wake up!"
Knock Out. Ohhh. So that was his name. Well, one mystery solved.
Wait.
Who was Knock Out?
"Mrf," came the intelligent response.
"Why are we yelling?" And now Blurr was online, albeit barely.
"It's hot," Rodimus said.
"I can't move my legs," Starscream snapped.
"Do you Cybertronians not know what it means to sleep in?" Knock Out demanded with a crackle of static as he sat up, one hand rubbing down his faceplate before he looked down at himself. "Guh. Who scratched me?"
"It was Starscream," Rodimus said with a smirk. He pulled his legs up, sighing in relief as sitting up gave his labored system some much needed cycled air. "Or maybe me?" He squinted at the mark on Knock Out's hood. "That does kind of look like my red."
"And there's the benefit to being blue." Blurr laughed. He stretched his arms over his helm and nearly kicked Knock Out in the helm. "Oops."
"Someone needs to get off this berth," Starscream said with a flick of his wings.
Rodimus leaned over, poking him in the hinges. "I seem to remember that you invited me. So I'm a guest."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Knock Out said, still brushing at the scratch in vain. "I don't even know what this is crusted in my knee. I'm going to the washracks."
"I'll join you," Blurr said, and rolled over.
Right off the berth.
Rodimus didn't bother to stifle his laugh as plating clattered, and Blurr's flailing knocked down a lamp, alarm clock, and a stack of datapads.
"He's fine," Starscream said. "It's not the first time."
Rodimus chuckled and flopped back to the berth, stretching himself out in the newly abandoned space. "Need some help down there?"
"Do you have something that can restore my dignity?" Blurr asked as he climbed to his pedes, rubbing at his helm.
"There's no cure for that, sweetspark," Starscream said.
"I can feel the love," Knock Out drawled. "Come on, Blurr. I'll fix that scratch for you."
"At least someone cares," Blurr said with a pointed look to Starscream's back. The Seeker's wings didn't so much as twitch. Given that this was normal banter between the two, Rodimus wasn't at all concerned.
They left, and Rodimus, with room to breathe now, distracted himself with snuggling against Starscream's back. "Look at that," he purred. "Now we have the berth all to ourselves."
"I thought you were hot," Starscream said, but there was interest in his field.
"Mmm. I am hot, thanks for noticing." Rodimus nibbled on the edge of a wing, and saw Starscream's plating shiver.
"You're ridiculous," Starscream retorted, but he did push back against Rodimus in plain invitation. "Don't you dare stop."
Rodimus chuckled. "Are you this bossy with Blurr, too?"
Starscream looked over his shoulder, a single optic gleaming. "Of course."
"I always knew he was a masochist." Rodimus bit harder on a wingtip, making Starscream arch against him. "How long ya think we got before they come back?"
Starscream's engine purred. "Long enough."
Now that was exactly what Rodimus wanted to hear. He pounced. Fortunately, Starscream didn't seem to mind one bit. Rawr.
a/n: Four more flash fic posted. Lots more to come. I'm fighting off the bunnies with quite a few of these, wanting to create longer fics. XD
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/330744.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Prompt: TFP Optimus/Ratchet
Fandom: Transformers Prime. Warnings: None
It started with the little things.
The way his engine snuffled when we went without energon for too long. The way he grumped about all of the little pests running about under-pede, but would sit and patiently listen to Rafael anyway. The little scuff on his backplate that really needed buffing out, but Optimus had yet to bring himself to offer his aid.
It did, however, provide an excellent excuse when Ratchet caught him staring one day.
"You have a scuff," he said.
Ratchet blinked at him. "A what?"
"A scuff." Optimus gestured vaguely to his backplate. "When was the last time you visited the washracks?"
"Hah. Those narrow things? Only Arcee fits in there." Ratchet harrumphed and turned back to the space bridge controls, leaning over to dig deep into the gears.
He had to be doing that on purpose. Because there was aft, suddenly, and Optimus was supposed to be a gentlemech who didn't look.
Except that he did.
He wasn't sure if that counted as a 'little thing'.
"You could ask for help," Optimus pointed out with a little cough of his ventilations.
"Are you volunteering?" Ratchet's vocals echoed from within the console. He also muttered a curse, but even that was endearing as of late.
Optimus' gaze wandered back to the medic's, well, back. The antenna protruding from Ratchet's pack wiggled as he did. It was oddly hypnotizing.
"Yes, of course. I am always willing to lend a hand, old friend," Optimus replied. His faceplate heated.
This was, hm, this was surprising, to say the least. He'd always been close to Ratchet, but recently, it somehow started being more.
The gray aft, delightfully accented in red, wriggled. "Then get your aft over here and help me with this. I need more than two hands."
Optimus blinked. "But the scuff?"
"The scuff can wait. This spitting circuit can't."
Very well then. Optimus eased himself to the other side of the console and lent a hand. As much as he was capable at any rate. There wasn't much room for him to work with.
It was the little things, he noticed as Ratchet muttered another curse and made some reference to the poor quality of Earth-based materials.
The little things that were developing into a rather large crush Optimus could have never expected.
For rayearthmagic
Prompt: TFP Wheeljack/Ultra Magnus
Fandom: Transformers Prime, S3. Warnings: None.
The lack of necessary materials on Earth was never more apparent than now. Bumblebee's transformation cog had been repaired. Bulkhead's mobility returned to him. And Ultra Magnus was left with this... claw.
He stared down at the makeshift limb and flexed the three digits. Open-close. Open-close. Well, he would be capable of the basics at least. It was better than no hand at all, he reasoned.
Open-close. Open-close.
"I kinda like it, actually."
Ultra Magnus looked up. Wheeljack stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. It was a casual pose, his arms folded, the tip of one pede braced against the ground.
"You would probably consider it a badge of honor," Ultra Magnus said as he dropped his gaze back to the claw-hand. Open-close. Open-close. At least, it moved.
"Well, it ain't an insult, that's for sure." Wheeljack pushed himself off the jamb and strode inside. One hand lifted, brushing over the multitude of scars on his face. "I figure it's a trophy. Proof that I'm still alive."
"A trophy," Ultra Magnus repeated. He couldn't hide the doubt in his tone.
"Yep." Wheeljack plopped himself down on the edge of the berth, not that there was much room. His hip pressed to Ultra Magnus'. "A little practice, and I guarantee, you won't even miss your old hand."
"I do not think I can share your enthusiasm," Ultra Magnus said with a little sigh.
Wheeljack smirked. "You sure about that?" He grabbed Ultra Magnus' pseudo-hand, warm fingers enclosing it about the wrist. "Maybe I can change your mind, eh?"
Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics. "I suspect that you are about to engage in some behavior that is against medical recommendations."
The Wrecker laughed. "I don't know what I did to give you that impression." He drew Ultra Magnus' pseudo-hand toward his lips, ex-venting damp heat over the clawed digits. "I mean, you're right. But still...."
Ultra Magnus' fingers twitched. He was actually surprised how much sensation he retained in them.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," Ultra Magnus started to say, but the rest of his protest dissolved into nothing as Wheeljack drew one of the claw tips between his lips, flicking his glossa over the tip of it.
Ultra Magnus' engine stuttered.
"Hmm," Wheeljack said. "I was right. I do like it." He winked and moved on to a different clawtip, laving the entire thing with his glossa. "Kinda wondering what it'd feel like in me, too. Think you'll indulge me later?"
Ultra Magnus worked his jaw, unable to ignore the lazy heat Wheeljack's boldness ignited in his groin. "So long as Ratchet approves."
Wheeljack laughed. "Doc isn't gonna approve of half of what I got in mind. Trust me."
Ultra Magnus twitched his hand, hooking one of his claws on Wheeljack's lip. When all it provoked was a spike in Wheeljack's field, and a rev of his engine, Ultra Magnus had to admit, maybe there was something to enjoy in this claw after all.
For meridianbarony
Prompt: IDW Optimus/Jazz
Fandom: IDW, ex-RID, post Dark-Cybertron. Warnings: implied sexual content
"Have I told ya how glad I am that yer back?"
Optimus chuckled and stroked his hand down Jazz's back, his former third arching beneath the touch not unlike an Earth feline. "Once or twice since this morning."
"Oh, is that all?" Jazz grinned down at him. He had his hands folded under his chin, braced as they were on Optimus' windshields. "Mebbe I should tell ya a few more times. So ya know not to go gallivanting off and leave me by my lonesome again."
Optimus folded his free arm behind his helm, propping himself up so that he could see Jazz better. "It was something of a necessity."
"Nah, just somethin' ya told yerself was necessary," Jazz retorted and then rolled his shoulders. "I ain't mad at cha. I know probably better than most of them out there how much ya were startin' to hurt."
"Not mad, no, but you were hurt." Optimus let his hand rest on Jazz's backstrut. "I would apologize for that, but mere words are not enough to suffice."
"Only if ya don't mean them. Kinda hard to say sometimes." Jazz's visor flashed at him, even as he wriggled. "Things been crazy here. You left me followin' Starscream, you know. How ya gonna make up for that?"
A conundrum indeed.
Optimus' hand shifted down to Jazz's aft, giving it a light pat. "I assumed you would tell me exactly how you intended for me to apologize."
The aft beneath his hand twitched. "Right there's a good start."
Optimus chuckled. "However did I guess?"
There were certain benefits to being nearly twice the size of your lover. Being able to pick him up easily was one of them. Optimus leveraged himself upright, sliding Jazz into his lap with ease, with the added bonus of teasing a surprised 'eep' from Jazz in the process.
"Now that's just unfair," Jazz said as wrapped his legs around Optimus' waist, grinding his closed array against Optimus' in the process. "You know how much I love it when ya toss me around like that."
"All is fair in love and war, is that not what you told me once?" Optimus asked as he curled a hand around Jazz's helm, thumb sweeping across Jazz's lips. "I learned from the best."
"Mm. That you did." Jazz pulled Optimus' thumb into his mouth, pressing it briefly between his denta. "You gotta lot of overloads to make up for, OP. I expect good ones."
Optimus leaned down, replacing his thumb with his lips. Jazz made a muffled sound of delight, diving into the kiss as though no time had passed between them at all.
"As many as I can manage and more," Optimus promised against Jazz's lips before he deepened the kiss, heat already winnowing its way through his lines.
Jazz grabbed his helm, keeping him in place, the kiss turning deep and biting. His grip was tight, unrelenting, as if to say 'you'd better not leave this time.'
Fortunately, Optimus had learned where he belonged. He had no intention of doing so again.
He held Jazz closer, gentling the kiss as much as he was able. Wherever he went in the future, he would make sure that he did not leave Jazz behind again.
He owed him that, and so much more.
For TheAirCommand
Prompt: Starscream/Blurr/Rodimus/Knock Out
Fandom: Transformers IDW, ex-RID. Warnings: implied sexual content, foursome
Overheating alarms were the first thing to stir Rodimus from a deep, restful recharge. He groaned and tried to roll away from his berth partner for some cooler ventilating air, but he was surrounded. On both sides. Odd.
Rodimus tried to wriggle downward, but well, there was weight on his legs, too. That... was a problem.
He forced himself to consciousness, peeling his optics open, a dull throb in the back of his processor reminding him of all the high grade and engex he'd consumed last night. It had been a lot. Ultra Magnus Disapproving Frown-lot.
Ow.
Staticky vision clarified into a blur of blue. Bright blue. No angles, but curved and polished plating. Wait. He knew those curves.
Rodimus squinted. Blurr? Yep. That was Blurr. Which meant it was probably Starscream behind him. Wouldn't be the first time.
Rodimus looked down. There was a bright red arm over his waist, ending in clawed fingers. Yep. That was Starscream. No wonder he was overheating. Starscream exuded heat in his recharge like no mech who had ever shared a berth with Rodimus.
So that left... Rodimus wriggled until he could look down, through the tangle of limbs that he kinda-sorta identified as his own, Blurr's and Starscream's, to see another blur of red, darker red this time. Rodimus wasn't sure he knew this red.
Well, no, that wasn't true. He must have gotten to know this shade of red pretty darn well last night if the pleasant ache in his valve was any indication. Hmm. Rodimus wracked his processor, but all of his memories were soaked in engex.
He'd had a good time. He knew that much. He'd laughed and teased and had enough overloads to short out a couple of circuits, if the fatigue in his frame was any indication.
"Stop squirming."
Ahh. That was Starscream.
"Can't," Rodimus said as he twitched. Starscream was ex-venting on his spoiler and it tickled. "M'hot."
"Fragging speedsters," the Seeker muttered. His arm vanished from Rodimus' waist as the berth rustled and he rolled over. Or at least tried to.
Red mech on Rodimus' legs was on Starscream's legs, too.
"I'm buried in grounders," Starscream said with a sigh, but at least it was a happy one. He jiggled one of his legs, resulting in a horrendous screech of metal on metal. "Knock Out! Wake up!"
Knock Out. Ohhh. So that was his name. Well, one mystery solved.
Wait.
Who was Knock Out?
"Mrf," came the intelligent response.
"Why are we yelling?" And now Blurr was online, albeit barely.
"It's hot," Rodimus said.
"I can't move my legs," Starscream snapped.
"Do you Cybertronians not know what it means to sleep in?" Knock Out demanded with a crackle of static as he sat up, one hand rubbing down his faceplate before he looked down at himself. "Guh. Who scratched me?"
"It was Starscream," Rodimus said with a smirk. He pulled his legs up, sighing in relief as sitting up gave his labored system some much needed cycled air. "Or maybe me?" He squinted at the mark on Knock Out's hood. "That does kind of look like my red."
"And there's the benefit to being blue." Blurr laughed. He stretched his arms over his helm and nearly kicked Knock Out in the helm. "Oops."
"Someone needs to get off this berth," Starscream said with a flick of his wings.
Rodimus leaned over, poking him in the hinges. "I seem to remember that you invited me. So I'm a guest."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Knock Out said, still brushing at the scratch in vain. "I don't even know what this is crusted in my knee. I'm going to the washracks."
"I'll join you," Blurr said, and rolled over.
Right off the berth.
Rodimus didn't bother to stifle his laugh as plating clattered, and Blurr's flailing knocked down a lamp, alarm clock, and a stack of datapads.
"He's fine," Starscream said. "It's not the first time."
Rodimus chuckled and flopped back to the berth, stretching himself out in the newly abandoned space. "Need some help down there?"
"Do you have something that can restore my dignity?" Blurr asked as he climbed to his pedes, rubbing at his helm.
"There's no cure for that, sweetspark," Starscream said.
"I can feel the love," Knock Out drawled. "Come on, Blurr. I'll fix that scratch for you."
"At least someone cares," Blurr said with a pointed look to Starscream's back. The Seeker's wings didn't so much as twitch. Given that this was normal banter between the two, Rodimus wasn't at all concerned.
They left, and Rodimus, with room to breathe now, distracted himself with snuggling against Starscream's back. "Look at that," he purred. "Now we have the berth all to ourselves."
"I thought you were hot," Starscream said, but there was interest in his field.
"Mmm. I am hot, thanks for noticing." Rodimus nibbled on the edge of a wing, and saw Starscream's plating shiver.
"You're ridiculous," Starscream retorted, but he did push back against Rodimus in plain invitation. "Don't you dare stop."
Rodimus chuckled. "Are you this bossy with Blurr, too?"
Starscream looked over his shoulder, a single optic gleaming. "Of course."
"I always knew he was a masochist." Rodimus bit harder on a wingtip, making Starscream arch against him. "How long ya think we got before they come back?"
Starscream's engine purred. "Long enough."
Now that was exactly what Rodimus wanted to hear. He pounced. Fortunately, Starscream didn't seem to mind one bit. Rawr.
a/n: Four more flash fic posted. Lots more to come. I'm fighting off the bunnies with quite a few of these, wanting to create longer fics. XD
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/330744.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.