30 Days of Porn - Day 04: Silence
Title: Silence
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty’s Dysfunction AU)
Warnings: hurt/comfort, smut (plug’n’play, tactile)
Pairing: Blades/First Aid
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Summary: When Hot Spot isn’t there, Blades feels responsible for the team.
Prompt: Silence (prompted by casusfere)
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for Day 04 of the 30 Days of Porn Meme.
Silence
Blades sat on the couch of the Protectobot base. The empty energon cube he had drunk from earlier was still on the table.
He shifted uncomfortably, and sighed.
The huge screen was out, because Blades didn’t feel like watching TV, even if it would have distracted him from his thoughts. His worry.
He sensed Groove over the bond. He was in recharge, and stable, but he couldn’t say the same about Streetwise.
First Aid had thrown him out when he’d wanted to help, though he knew he couldn’t really have been helpful at all.
Now Blades sat there, and waited.
It took another two joors before First Aid entered the room, his shoulders slumped, tiredly.
Blades didn’t see the exhaustion on First Aid’s face, the battle mask hiding it, but the sensations through the bond were unmistakable.
They looked at each other, and Blades smiled.
Streetwise was safe now, stable, and his self-repair was working. First Aid didn’t need to tell him, Blades just knew.
With his own energon cube, the medic sat down next to him and took his battle mask off before he sipped.
First Aid glanced at the cube, but Blades could tell that his optics lacked focus. He was probably thinking about today…
It had been a hard day for all of them, full of fighting, defending, fear and worry. Today, Blades hadn’t even been yelled at for being reckless when he’d dived from the sky in a risky manoeuvre to reach his team mates as quickly as possible.
It was never a good sign when Blades wasn’t yelled at because of this.
Streetwise and Groove were in medbay a floor beneath. Hot Spot was at the Ark for an important briefing about the day’s events…
Blades’ train of thought stopped when First Aid drank anew. Half of the cube was empty, the fingers tense around it.
Blades didn’t know what to say, and so he kept quiet. Sometimes it was better not to speak when words would only make everything worse.
He shuffled closer.
Blades put First Aid’s cube aside, the medic’s hands clenching to fists when they were empty, the blue visor still fixed on them.
For an astrosecond, a sad smile appeared on Blades’ lips, before he took one hand in his own, leading it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles softly. There were still remnants of oil and energon from the repairs which First Aid had forgot to clean off.
It was always amazing that the medic who cared about everyone didn’t care enough for himself.
Blades sighed. This was the reason why someone else had to look after him…
His glossa flicked over a seam, the taste of oil mixing with the taste of the smooth metal which shouldn’t have tasted of anything at all.
The hand relaxed in Blades’ grip, and his digits found their way between the medic’s palm and fingers, forcing them apart. Fingertips traced over the hand once, before Blades placed it at the side of his helm.
His optics went up, and met First Aid’s. Blades winced inwardly. The sad look on the other’s faceplates, and the guilt which had no reason to be there, hurt him to see.
Blades let go of First Aid’s hand as his fingers stroked along the other’s arm, his shoulder, and reached the chin, tracing his thumb over it lightly.
He leant closer, lip plates brushing over the other’s forehead in a soft touch; he dropped down to the nose and then to the lips, pressing on them in a tentative kiss.
First Aid responded, fingers curling around Blades’ helm when his optics shut down.
Hold me.
Want you.
Please.
It was an echo through the bond, the sentiment so clear and pure that Blades could have never denied it.
He leant back and pulled the smaller mech onto him, holding him in a tight embrace. His energy field flared, reassuring, calming and so unlike the way he usually was. The other’s field extended, the concentration of it most intense where First Aid touched him; at his helm, stroking down to his cheek, and his chest where digits dug into a seam.
First Aid seemed so fragile, so innocent and so out of place. Not made for this war they were fighting, that made Blades wish he could do anything else - more than he did right now.
They shivered when their field flares settled to a slow pace, pulsing, comforting each other; but this was only for First Aid.
Blades loosened his grip, but never let go, as he began caressing the medic’s back. Fingers tracing cycles over white armour, he didn’t do anything more. Only when their interface panels opened, the hand left the other’s back. Stroking down to the side, over the revealed hardware, Blades knew First Aid wanted him to connect them.
Trust, the wish for closeness, for comfort and the feeling that someday, everything would be all right. All that swept over the bond even before the interface was complete; and when it was, Blades’ and First Aid’s consciousness dissolved into one as much as it was possible for a Cybertronian being. With the gestalt bond open, the hardware connected, everything came through.
Emotions, information, sensations, systems statuses…
They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.
The sound of their engines and cooling systems drowned their quiet moans and soft sighs, and produced the only noise in the room. The charge rose slowly, pleasure surging, it mixed with reassurance and the sense of safety.
Blades had to protect them when Hot Spot wasn’t there.
He offlined his optics, nibbling at First Aid’s helm gently as he tightened his hold once more.
He had to protect First Aid…
Also posted here
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty’s Dysfunction AU)
Warnings: hurt/comfort, smut (plug’n’play, tactile)
Pairing: Blades/First Aid
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Summary: When Hot Spot isn’t there, Blades feels responsible for the team.
Prompt: Silence (prompted by casusfere)
Beta: ultharkitty
Note: Written for Day 04 of the 30 Days of Porn Meme.
Silence
Blades sat on the couch of the Protectobot base. The empty energon cube he had drunk from earlier was still on the table.
He shifted uncomfortably, and sighed.
The huge screen was out, because Blades didn’t feel like watching TV, even if it would have distracted him from his thoughts. His worry.
He sensed Groove over the bond. He was in recharge, and stable, but he couldn’t say the same about Streetwise.
First Aid had thrown him out when he’d wanted to help, though he knew he couldn’t really have been helpful at all.
Now Blades sat there, and waited.
It took another two joors before First Aid entered the room, his shoulders slumped, tiredly.
Blades didn’t see the exhaustion on First Aid’s face, the battle mask hiding it, but the sensations through the bond were unmistakable.
They looked at each other, and Blades smiled.
Streetwise was safe now, stable, and his self-repair was working. First Aid didn’t need to tell him, Blades just knew.
With his own energon cube, the medic sat down next to him and took his battle mask off before he sipped.
First Aid glanced at the cube, but Blades could tell that his optics lacked focus. He was probably thinking about today…
It had been a hard day for all of them, full of fighting, defending, fear and worry. Today, Blades hadn’t even been yelled at for being reckless when he’d dived from the sky in a risky manoeuvre to reach his team mates as quickly as possible.
It was never a good sign when Blades wasn’t yelled at because of this.
Streetwise and Groove were in medbay a floor beneath. Hot Spot was at the Ark for an important briefing about the day’s events…
Blades’ train of thought stopped when First Aid drank anew. Half of the cube was empty, the fingers tense around it.
Blades didn’t know what to say, and so he kept quiet. Sometimes it was better not to speak when words would only make everything worse.
He shuffled closer.
Blades put First Aid’s cube aside, the medic’s hands clenching to fists when they were empty, the blue visor still fixed on them.
For an astrosecond, a sad smile appeared on Blades’ lips, before he took one hand in his own, leading it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles softly. There were still remnants of oil and energon from the repairs which First Aid had forgot to clean off.
It was always amazing that the medic who cared about everyone didn’t care enough for himself.
Blades sighed. This was the reason why someone else had to look after him…
His glossa flicked over a seam, the taste of oil mixing with the taste of the smooth metal which shouldn’t have tasted of anything at all.
The hand relaxed in Blades’ grip, and his digits found their way between the medic’s palm and fingers, forcing them apart. Fingertips traced over the hand once, before Blades placed it at the side of his helm.
His optics went up, and met First Aid’s. Blades winced inwardly. The sad look on the other’s faceplates, and the guilt which had no reason to be there, hurt him to see.
Blades let go of First Aid’s hand as his fingers stroked along the other’s arm, his shoulder, and reached the chin, tracing his thumb over it lightly.
He leant closer, lip plates brushing over the other’s forehead in a soft touch; he dropped down to the nose and then to the lips, pressing on them in a tentative kiss.
First Aid responded, fingers curling around Blades’ helm when his optics shut down.
Hold me.
Want you.
Please.
It was an echo through the bond, the sentiment so clear and pure that Blades could have never denied it.
He leant back and pulled the smaller mech onto him, holding him in a tight embrace. His energy field flared, reassuring, calming and so unlike the way he usually was. The other’s field extended, the concentration of it most intense where First Aid touched him; at his helm, stroking down to his cheek, and his chest where digits dug into a seam.
First Aid seemed so fragile, so innocent and so out of place. Not made for this war they were fighting, that made Blades wish he could do anything else - more than he did right now.
They shivered when their field flares settled to a slow pace, pulsing, comforting each other; but this was only for First Aid.
Blades loosened his grip, but never let go, as he began caressing the medic’s back. Fingers tracing cycles over white armour, he didn’t do anything more. Only when their interface panels opened, the hand left the other’s back. Stroking down to the side, over the revealed hardware, Blades knew First Aid wanted him to connect them.
Trust, the wish for closeness, for comfort and the feeling that someday, everything would be all right. All that swept over the bond even before the interface was complete; and when it was, Blades’ and First Aid’s consciousness dissolved into one as much as it was possible for a Cybertronian being. With the gestalt bond open, the hardware connected, everything came through.
Emotions, information, sensations, systems statuses…
They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.
The sound of their engines and cooling systems drowned their quiet moans and soft sighs, and produced the only noise in the room. The charge rose slowly, pleasure surging, it mixed with reassurance and the sense of safety.
Blades had to protect them when Hot Spot wasn’t there.
He offlined his optics, nibbling at First Aid’s helm gently as he tightened his hold once more.
He had to protect First Aid…
Also posted here