100 Dinobots: Desperation
Prompt: Desperation
Required Character(s): Slag
Other Featured Character(s): Swoop (So yeah, you probably know what that means…)
Rating: M/NC-17
Warnings: You will not want to read this if you have objections to slash and/or if you would tend to see a relationship between two Dinobots as incestuous and therefore icky. (As opposed to incestuous and therefore yummy. ;) For the record, I don't see it as incestuous, period.) This is also kinda sorta sticky, in that it has "anatomy" but lacks fluids, at which I still tend to balk just because I haven't justified it to myself yet. Yep, I went there. So, if that bothers you even if the slash and/or "incest" aspect doesn't…Well, there you go.
Genre: Smut, mostly PWP. If you like this, you can thank my completely out-of-control pre-menopausal hormones. I love them so very much. :| Oh, and there's also some mushiness because, you know, I wrote this. *rolls eyes* I can't do straight-out mushless, plotless smut to save my life, apparently…
Word Count (Not including this intro): Far too many. 3,586, to be exact. Yeah, baby. Those prompts which trigger pr0nz in the ol' brainpan are all very likely to go very long. (Heh.)
*hides*
"Missed you," Slag muttered by way of explanation as he easily lifted Swoop and then crushed him up against the nearest wall of the supply closet with a reverberating clang that could perhaps be heard in the next state over, much less out in the medbay.
So much for being discreet, flitted disapprovingly through Swoop's mind, but then Slag's mouth busied itself against him, distracting him from the thought. From any thought, really. Talking was apparently not on Slag's agenda. As usual. Swoop tried it anyway.
"You were only gone for three hours," he pointed out exasperatedly, although the protest was weak and half-hearted. His initial resolve to be righteously indignant had quickly begun to crumble once Slag had unerringly homed in, all tactically-focused, on That Spot. It was an otherwise innocent-looking little armor seam on his upper chest, but if one worked it just right, it allowed access to a few sensor nodes that drove Swoop completely wild when they were manipulated just so.
Unfortunately for Swoop, Slag knew just how to work That Spot. He knew how to work many such spots, and he seemed intent on visiting all of them. A gurgling sound that was half whine of protest and half growl of desire surged through Swoop in response, and he slid his arms forward to drape them over Slag's shoulders, slipping small hands down between Slag's back and his little kibble wings that Swoop considered utterly adorable. They were like itty bitty baby wings, and, much to Slag's annoyance, they induced much cooing and petting in Swoop.
"Still missed you," Slag was insisting meanwhile. "Was like three weeks," he plaintively added.
Swoop sighed in defeat and wrapped both of his legs more tightly around Slag's waist for better balance.
"This has nothing to do with missing me," he pointed out, caressing over some external struts and yanking at some cabling that was nestled under Slag's kibble wings, making Slag yowl in appreciation. "And you know it."
The sting that Swoop intended the comment to have was utterly undone by the long, tremulous, needful moan that emerged from him as the tip of Slag's dexterous tongue found one of Those Nodes. Still, what he'd said was true. Fighting made Snarl happy; it made Slag a different five-letter adjective that began with "h" and ended in "y."
This, Swoop had learned very quickly once their relationship had very recently taken a sudden and unexpected dive into the realms of the physical and intimate. Not that Swoop generally complained about this tendency of Slag's, of course. Slag had always, until now, held off this urge until Swoop was off-shift and they were alone together in some far less potentially-public place. And the end result of the pent-up lust, Swoop had to admit, had been explosive and…wow. But this time, the alarm klaxon had sounded just when they had been about seven-eighths of the way to doing exactly what they were heading toward doing now, only not against the wall. The frustration of that interruption combined with the thrill of victorious battle that didn't half-way kill Slag this time had created…this. This desperate, ravenous, demanding, duty-shift-interrupting monster. It all made Swoop wonder what, exactly, Slag had done to release this excess and excited post-battle energy before the two of them had become intimate. He was determined to ask this question of Slag. One day.
Not right now.
Slag was giving Swoop a wicked grin, breaking off his worshipful self-guided tour of what he could reach of Swoop's torso with his mouth without stepping away from the wall.
"Shut up," he growled. And then he proceeded to ensure that Swoop would refrain from talking using the quickest method that he knew: Their mouths met in a jarring, brutal, biting kiss that seemed to go on and on for hours.
Swoop sighed a long and whimpering sigh into the kiss, all protests gone in an instant as Slag used the bulk of his larger body to pin Swoop more firmly against the wall, after which he put his hands to a much better use than simply supporting Swoop's weight. Swoop was glad to return the favor, too, his hands roaming around what he could reach of Slag's body, visiting all the spots that he knew that Slag liked but carefully avoiding those that would really drive him crazy. Otherwise, this encounter, given Slag's current state of arousal, would last about fifteen seconds. Slag was snarling into the kiss now, his hands finding Swoop's wings, fingers running all over what he could reach of the twin silver expanses that Swoop had alluringly spread out against the nauseatingly orange wall. He dug his fingers roughly into their fold seams and caressed with an incongruously light touch all along their edges, knowing exactly the effect that doing so would have on Swoop.
On cue, Swoop whimpered again, breaking the kiss and biting down hard on his lower lip to avoid making any louder, more attention-getting noises. His back arched against the wall, pushing his chest into Slag. Slag signaled his approval of this by nuzzling into Swoop's neck, nipping at what he found there with a happy - Happy! - little moan. Swoop chuckled at the happiness and lightly tweaked one of those drive-Slag-wild spots, digging small fingers into an armor seam high on Slag's left side, under his arm…and Slag's happy moan instantly transformed itself into a decidedly more feral and snarly one.
Much better, Swoop decided, smirking in satisfaction.
Abruptly deciding that the wall made things awkward and not nearly as fun as they could be, Slag gathered Swoop securely against him and then stepped a few paces backward, away from the wall. Still holding Swoop against him, he sank quickly and gracelessly down onto his knees and then still farther down, onto his back, flattening the kibble riding on his back against the floor in a way that wasn't exactly comfortable but that also wasn't exactly unpleasant. He pulled a yelping but unresisting Swoop over on top of him, and the other's weight further flattened Slag against the floor.
Swoop was somewhat surprised by the sudden shift of venue, but he was flexible and went with it. He shifted and scooted downwards, straddling one of Slag's legs and leaning down to run his tongue slowly and sensuously over Slag's abdomen while simultaneously running one hand up the inside of his un-straddled thigh. Slag couldn't see what Swoop was doing over the swell of his own chest, so the various sensations were all small and delightful surprises. With a long sigh, he sagged back against the floor, occasionally reaching for Swoop, but the smaller Dinobot deftly dodged out of his grasp. Slag eventually gave up the effort, choosing to lay back and revel in sensation instead.
Slowly, Swoop's warm little tongue began to work its way downward, dipping deeply into the seam where Slag's pelvis joined his abdomen while the fingers of his exploring hand simultaneously dug expertly into the juncture of his inner thigh and his pelvis. Slag gasped and then clenched his jaw, fighting hard not to squirm under the assault of dual and equally arousing sensations. Unfortunately, he rather lost the battle.
"Yesssss," he hissed around his still-clenched jaw. Bending the knee of his free leg for leverage, he pressed himself more firmly up against Swoop's mouth as it worked its talented magic against him.
Swoop grinned against Slag while he worked, a happy, trilling purr issuing from him. He momentarily reflected with deep satisfaction that, for all that Slag was large and overbearing and relentlessly aggressive in general, it was actually he who was largely in control of their more intimate encounters. He knew exactly what to do to very quickly transform Slag into a large, blithering blob of putty in his hands. He had the power to make any encounter between them explosively and passionately short or to drag it out for long and blissful hours, if they had the luxury of doing so. Right now, he was aiming for something somewhere between those two extremes, since they were in a semi-public place.
That thought brought Swoop up short, giving him momentary pause. Especially as Slag's moans and small cries began to rise precipitously in volume as Swoop's small hand stroked over his interface panel, teasing it, his fingers lightly dancing and tickling along its edges.
"The door," Swoop murmured at Slag.
"Locked it," Slag breathlessly assured Swoop, breaking out of pleasured paralysis enough to reach one hand down to scratch and scrape against the closest of Swoop's trembling wings. Moving his hand underneath the panel of gleaming silver, Slag dug into the spot where the missile launcher mounting met the rest of Swoop's wing, and his reward was Swoop emitting a loud, lovely sound that was part squeal, part squawk, and part moan. Slag grinned in response; he loved it when Swoop let himself go and went all noisy. "Wanted you all to myself," he breathed lecherously.
Swoop shuddered at the tone of Slag's voice, but felt compelled to remind him, "About fifteen people have the unlock code." He had been going for a reproving tone, but the pleasured shuddering in his voice rather ruined the effect.
"They wanna watch," Slag growled with a fiercely determined and passionate snort, "let 'em watch. Not stopping."
Swoop wasn't usually given to exhibitionism, even if it was only potential exhibitionism. And he knew that Slag would indeed stop, if he but asked him to. But there was something about the situation that was…exciting. Exhilarating, even. Perhaps it was the possibility of being watched. Or the near-certainty that anyone who happened to be in the next room would know precisely what was going on in the closet. Then there was also Slag's determined desperation and his possessiveness that was always comfortingly protective but that was sometimes, like right at that moment, also delightfully domineering. The combination of these things was serving to do very bad - or very good, depending upon how one looked at it - things to Swoop's self-control. He suddenly didn't care who heard them, who saw them, who watched them, or, hell, who might get off right along with them while watching what they were doing.
He just wanted Slag. Now.
"S'OK," Swoop decided. "Don't wanna stop," he added, snarling breathlessly as he squirmed anew against Slag's body, wantonly rubbing his groin against Slag's captured thigh as Slag continued to tweak and probe and scratch at his wing.
"Good," Slag uttered, meanwhile, the word a guttural, animal grunt that sent cascades of tingling shivers rippling down Swoop's spine to pool between his legs. "Very good," Slag reiterated even more fiercely as he removed his hand from Swoop's wing and instead yanked roughly at Swoop's body in order to pull a certain part of him within arm's reach. Swoop yowled more in surprise than protest, and then groaned in delight as Slag reached between their heated bodies and began to prod and claw roughly at the armor panel that protected his interface array. Slag grinned like a lunatic while he was at it, reveling at the cries and impassioned words of encouragement that began to rip themselves out of Swoop's throat in response. His head was thrown back in bliss, his throat entirely exposed.
Slag found that he couldn't resist that particular expanse of vulnerable anatomy. He levered himself up so that he was mostly sitting up, and Swoop murmured in arousal-drenched alarm as he slid down Slag's now-bent legs and their groins met with a muted clang.
"Mine," Slag growled ferociously.
And without further warning, Slag bit deeply into Swoop's throat, his teeth tearing lines and spilling a small river of commingled fluids. Swoop squawked in pained ecstasy, his fingers gripping and crushing into Slag's shoulder armor. His legs wrapped around Slag in an attempt to press himself harder against Slag's probing hand, and at about the same time, his panel finally slid aside under Slag's assault.
Swoop heaved a sigh almost of relief as the heat and pressure that had been building behind the panel was suddenly released and cooler air, mixed with the heat that Slag's body was radiating in intense waves, caressed him. He growled as Slag's fingers, firmly sandwiched between their heated bodies, probed with incongruous gentleness his most intimate parts. His own fingers were still digging harshly into Slag's shoulders, his back, everywhere that Swoop could reach.
"Yours," he agreed fervently, meanwhile, crying out again as Slag probed him more aggressively with not-entirely-gentle fingers, pushing two of them roughly inside of him. "Always yours, Slag," he added, moaning as he pushed himself down hard against Slag's fingers, internal sensory nodes igniting, the sensations almost burning in their intensity as he moved slowly and deliberately.
"Better believe it," Slag grunted, as he watched Swoop ride his hand. "Not fair," he further grunted after a moment, watching Swoop's face slide farther and faster toward ecstasy. "You're having all the fun."
Swoop stilled then, the effort consuming every last iota of willpower that he possessed, and he gave Slag a wicked grin. He lifted himself off of Slag's fingers then, shifting and lifting himself so that he could claim Slag's mouth in a hot, demanding kiss while at the same time lowering himself onto Slag's waiting spike.
Slag groaned as sensation flooded him, as Swoop's warmth slid down onto him, surrounding him, squeezing him. Swoop's arms wrapped possessively around him, hands stroking and small fingers probing, and he moaned into Swoop's mouth as it devoured his own, lips and teeth colliding and tongues sinuously intertwining. He was acutely aware that he sounded pathetically needy, but he didn't care in the slightest. He dimly heard an answering wanton moan from Swoop, which only encouraged his efforts as he began to move, slowly and carefully at first, within Swoop.
It had been driving Slag crazy, this need for someone…no, this need for Swoop, specifically. He hadn't been offering an excuse before, not entirely: He really had missed the annoying little flyer, even though he'd only been gone for three hours. The swiftly-developing sense of connection that he felt toward Swoop was disturbing for one such as himself, who liked to believe that he didn't like anyone, much less need anyone enough to miss them. Yet it was there, and he couldn't deny it, at least not to himself. It was need. It was overwhelming want, and it was want not just for this sort of deeply intimate encounter but for closeness in general. And for Slag, who otherwise feared nothing, that was a very scary thing. But for the moment, Slag wasn't going to question it, wasn't going to argue and wrestle with it as he'd been doing over the past few weeks. He was just going to enjoy it. Cherish it. Cherish him.
Slag braced both hands against the floor for leverage then, leaning his weight back on them and upthrusting deeply into Swoop, who cried out in bliss as his internal sensors sang with pleasure. He clung to Slag for dear life, arms and legs both wrapped tightly around him, or otherwise risk going flying across the closet from the sheer enthusiastic force of Slag's thrusts. He did his best to meet Slag thrust for thrust, quickly adjusting to the frenetic, demanding pace that Slag soon set, that meant that it didn't take long at all for friction and melting heat to build up deep inside of Swoop. Try as he might to slow them down, to hold them back, to make this last…it just wasn't going to happen. Slag was too far gone, had already been holding himself back for too long now, and he had no incentive at all to rein himself in. Neither, really, did Swoop. Little jolts of energy were already loosing themselves from Slag's spike, tickling and pricking Swoop deep inside, and he knew that it wouldn't be long now at all, for either of them. They slammed relentlessly into each other like opposing and powerful forces of nature, completely lost in each other and completely heedless of the noise that they were making. They didn't care who might hear them, who might barge in on them,
Slag bellowed as climax finally, blissfully crashed over him, his cry loud enough that Swoop grinned with satisfaction, loud enough that it practically shook the walls. The charge that his spike released scorched Swoop and the mingled pain/pleasure along with the energy input easily pushed him over the edge as well, keening and wailing as we went. The waves of energy from Slag's release coursed along his neural pathways, leaving him breathless and weak and shuddering in their wake. He collapsed limply against Slag, who in turn sagged back down onto the floor, spent. He pulled Swoop down with him, breaking the connection between them. Both of them lay panting for long moments as overworked systems attempted to recover from and compensate for their exertions.
Swoop roused himself first, his smaller, lither body dissipating heat more efficiently than Slag's bulkier one could. He slid off of Slag to settle himself alongside of him instead, propped up on one hand, weight resting on the side of his hip, one leg thrown carelessly over Slag's body. Leaning down, he nuzzled his face affectionately into Slag's neck.
"That was nice," he complimented just before trailing his tongue lightly up the side of Slag's neck and then nibbling gently at his jaw.
"I aim to please," Slag murmured, content.
Swoop snorted a wash of warm air against him before lifting his head to look Slag in the eye, amusement dancing over his expression.
"You so do not," Swoop answered teasingly, then smothered the protest that Slag attempted to offer with a kiss that went on longer than he'd intended when he'd started it.
Had Slag not been running low on energy, having fought a battle earlier, there might have been a Round Two. As it was, Slag needed energon and Swoop needed to finish his duty shift, two facts which Swoop gently pointed out to Slag once the kiss ended. Slag heaved a resigned but agreeing sigh before pushing himself with great effort up off of the floor and onto his feet. Swoop scrambled much more easily to his feet at the same time.
Slag turned to leave then, without further ado, but then another thought seized him, prompted by he knew not what, nor did he think much about it. Instead, turning swiftly back to Swoop, he just gathered him against himself with one arm, used his free hand to cup Swoop's surprised face, and then bent down to kiss him more gently, more affectionately, than he'd ever kissed him.
Swoop was surprised, gentleness not something that he'd ever thought to associate with much less expect from Slag, but then he melted against him, wrapping his arms around his waist as the kiss went on. He was reeling, amazed that, although the kiss lacked Slag's usual passionate lust, it was otherwise brimming with something that was much closer to softer, mushier emotions. It was this, more than anything, that was melting Swoop. Passion and lust were all well and good - really good - but he found that he craved the softness, too, and he had firmly believed that he would never find such a thing in Slag or at the very least that it would take a lot of work on his part to pry it out of him, if indeed he was capable of it at all. Swoop had thought that this need of his for affection, for closeness would become a large and looming problem, somewhere down the road, and yet…And yet, there it was, all of a sudden all freely offered. And it had been Slag who had initiated it. It was nothing less than shocking. Welcome, but shocking.
Slag eventually, reluctantly, broke the kiss, knowing that Swoop needed to get back to work, and as he pulled back he saw that Swoop's eyes were wide and practically glowing. He was smiling at Slag beatifically, the teasing smirk that usually tinged the smiles that he gave Slag nowhere to be seen for now. Slag filed the reaction away for future reference.
"So do aim to please," he quietly but intensely informed Swoop.
Swoop just stared up at him, still reeling from the kiss, from the affection that had driven it, from the gentleness that was sending waves through him, waves not of lust or of arousal but of something mellower. Something rarer. Something to be cherished for now and then sought again, later, when the timing was better.
Their gazes still locked, Slag stepped back from Swoop then, reluctantly releasing him from his embrace. Impulsively, he reached out to him and ran the back of one hand down Swoop's cheek, smiling softly as Swoop murmured something unintelligible but happy as he leaned into the gesture.
"See you later," Slag said, tearing himself away and turning with reluctant determination toward the door.
Swoop just nodded, words refusing to come to him, as he watched Slag leave, fighting back a surprisingly strong urge to follow him. He continued to stand there, motionless, for long moments after Slag had left, simply staring contemplatively at the door. He replayed in his mind a few time the last few minutes before Slag's departure, warmth and wonder still flowing through him, and it was quite a while before he found that he could focus and return to his task again.