It's not gay if it's her.
--------------------
The taste was the best thing about it, he decided, then belatedly tried to delete that line of thought from his processor.
I do not like sucking spike. There aren't any good things about it, he reminded himself.
Above him, Arcee made a soft noise and her hips jerked, thrusting her hard length a little further into Cliffjumper's straining mouth. He choked slightly, pulling away, but she reached down and placed a hand on his head.
"You're doing so good, Cliff. Don't stop."
Her voice seemed to reverberate around the tiny space they were in - a store cupboard, things they didn't have enough of piled in orderly messes on the floor, on the shelves. Arcee liked the danger of the fact that if Ratchet decided he needed joint lubricant, they'd be found out in a second, but Cliffjumper wasn't so sure. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this - on his knees, mouth stretched obscenely wide around another mech's spike - but it wasn't another mech, he thought, giving an extra-hard suck and revelling in the quiet, feminine moan that came from her.
Her. Arcee. He'd been.. well, not lusting after her, but certainly keeping an eye on her since they'd met. She was something else. And now he was getting closer to her than he'd ever dreamed!
He'd certainly never dreamed of this. Of being on his knees, sure, but instead of a thick spike against his tongue, he'd dreamed of a soft port, fingers buried in her heat, lubricant dripping down his chin..
He swallowed involuntarily and she gave a yelp, gripping him by both horns and thrusting sharply. He groaned, one hand dropping from where it had steadied him against her thighs to his own throbbing spike, finally wrapping around it and jerking roughly. He managed three thrusts, and so did she, spilling herself on the outstroke, filling his mouth with transfluid. He looked up at her. Her eyes were bright in the near-darkness of the storeroom, and she was looking right at him.
He swallowed. It sounded loud, and the silence that followed it sounded moreso. He cycled his optics once, waiting for her to react.
"Cliff.. you haven't- I mean, you didn't-"
He looked down at his still-rigid spike and shook his head.
"Sorry."
She sighed and pulled him up by one horn she still had a grip on.
"C'mere."
Standing there, kissing her, with her hand on his spike..
The taste was the best thing about it.
The taste was the best thing about it, he decided, then belatedly tried to delete that line of thought from his processor.
I do not like sucking spike. There aren't any good things about it, he reminded himself.
Above him, Arcee made a soft noise and her hips jerked, thrusting her hard length a little further into Cliffjumper's straining mouth. He choked slightly, pulling away, but she reached down and placed a hand on his head.
"You're doing so good, Cliff. Don't stop."
Her voice seemed to reverberate around the tiny space they were in - a store cupboard, things they didn't have enough of piled in orderly messes on the floor, on the shelves. Arcee liked the danger of the fact that if Ratchet decided he needed joint lubricant, they'd be found out in a second, but Cliffjumper wasn't so sure. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this - on his knees, mouth stretched obscenely wide around another mech's spike - but it wasn't another mech, he thought, giving an extra-hard suck and revelling in the quiet, feminine moan that came from her.
Her. Arcee. He'd been.. well, not lusting after her, but certainly keeping an eye on her since they'd met. She was something else. And now he was getting closer to her than he'd ever dreamed!
He'd certainly never dreamed of this. Of being on his knees, sure, but instead of a thick spike against his tongue, he'd dreamed of a soft port, fingers buried in her heat, lubricant dripping down his chin..
He swallowed involuntarily and she gave a yelp, gripping him by both horns and thrusting sharply. He groaned, one hand dropping from where it had steadied him against her thighs to his own throbbing spike, finally wrapping around it and jerking roughly. He managed three thrusts, and so did she, spilling herself on the outstroke, filling his mouth with transfluid. He looked up at her. Her eyes were bright in the near-darkness of the storeroom, and she was looking right at him.
He swallowed. It sounded loud, and the silence that followed it sounded moreso. He cycled his optics once, waiting for her to react.
"Cliff.. you haven't- I mean, you didn't-"
He looked down at his still-rigid spike and shook his head.
"Sorry."
She sighed and pulled him up by one horn she still had a grip on.
"C'mere."
Standing there, kissing her, with her hand on his spike..
The taste was the best thing about it.