Sticky Response Pt 3

[mmouse15]

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FIC: Continuity - Title (optional) - Characters - brief Kink (please include the entire thing on every part you post and for every comment!) and put Ch# or Pt# at the end. Note any major squicks or kinks in the header as a courtesy to the

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FIC: By Nature Winged – TFP – Insecticon/Vehicon – Courtship/Claiming, Doggy Style Part 7

[anonymous]

The washracks were blessedly empty. Often they were swarming with troops, but it appeared that he’d have them to himself this cycle. He didn’t question his good luck, even if he felt a brief disappointment that there wasn’t anyone he could swap a buffing with. It was far easier than buffing your own plating and even if not everyone was willing to do it, his new block of wax would make an enticing lure.

Somewhere in the labyrinth of racks, a spout switched on.

He locked up, startled. He hadn’t heard anyone, any voices or footsteps. It didn’t matter really, he could choose another rack.

Yet some part of him pricked in curiosity and he found himself creeping forward, further into the rows of racks, peering around a dividing wall.

The Insecticon stood beneath the spray of solvent, plating flexed open to allow the cleansing liquid to flow over its internal components. He caught a glimpse of pistons and actuators, thick cables, precision machinery, built for strength and speed, perfectly designed.

Science experiment or not, Shockwave knew what he was doing.

The wave of desire that rippled through his spark shocked him. He wasn’t a new protoform anymore, hungry for the novelty of interface, but all he wanted to do was touch, to feel those mechanisms against his chassis again. He was keenly aware of how long it had been since he’d bothered to track down a partner; Speedtrap was currently banging Tiltwing and Dragline had felt it too much trouble to court anyone else.

It was then that he realized that the Insecticon was watching him.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Biting back his embarrassment and unease, he lifted the maintenance kit, holding it forth like a shield or a peace offering and blurted, “Want a buff?”

I don’t think I’ve ever used a worse line. Somewhere, Speedtrap is laughing his slagging head off.

But the Insecticon merely shifted, making room for him under the spray. Spark pounding, he joined the creature, tentatively flexing open his own plating. Solvent flowed over him; pleasant and cool, sweeping away some of the heat from his internals as it removed dirt and grime. This close, he was keenly aware that he only barely came up past the Insecticon’s middle. On the bright side, he was in the position to obliquely eye the creature’s interface hatch. Or at least where its interface hatch should be, the strange tessellation of metal plates looked unfamiliar.

This is going to be interesting, to say the least. I wonder what he’s packing under there?

The thought that the creature was at minimum proportional should have made him reconsider, but it only sent a wave of heat through him, his valve cycling in response. The Insecticon must have detected the spike of arousal in his energy field, but it ignored it, instead shutting off the flow of solvent, the remaining drops falling to swirl about the drain. Turning, the creature reached for the maintenance kit and flipped it open.

Guess he took me seriously about the buffing. Oh well, I suppose we could both use it. Surprising himself with his own boldness, he reached past the Insecticon and grabbed the block of wax and the mesh square from the kit. Glancing up at the creature, he raised his tools and said, “Well?”

A vague flicker of amusement in the Insecticon’s field, but it crouched obediently, allowing him to reach the huge elytra which guarded its wings. Dragline went to work.