another night at General Medbay
It's been a good couple of days at the Autobot medbay. For a certain definition of good, anyway. Starscream was gone, Ratchet wasn't bonded to him anymore and their lives were beginning to look like they could get back to something normal. The sun was bright outside, there were bids chirping brightly, Lockdown was getting better and she knew
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I might be able to manage a nap... naps are pretty short, and almost non-existent if our world's Ratchet is any example, you know he's claimed to be napping while standing up and doing repairs once before? Ironhide didn't really buy it, and I wouldn't blame him, but since he only had the one leg he couldn't wrestle Ratchet onto a berth like he kept threatening to do, though he kept saying he'd call Trailbreaker to do it but I think 'Breaker is a little too shy to do that. Ironhide could get away with it since they'd known each other a long time but I don't think Trailbreaker would quite know what to do with himself if he was bolting Ratchet down to a berth - might feel kind of weird about it, right?
*A small chuckle works free at the thought of great big Trailbreaker impossibly flustered by pinning the medic down in a somewhat... suggestive manner, with Ironhide overseeing. His attention is drawn away by the door locking behind them, wondering briefly, and aloud, if that was to keep people out or to keep Ratchet in ( ... )
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*He gives a soft nip to a line in his neck before lifting his head again, nuzzling his cheek, lips grazing the side of his mouth*
Proving that people love you... that not everyone intends to hurt you when they get close... that you're worthwhile as a friend and as more... It's something I needed to be shown, and something you need right now...
*Cupping his cheek, he turns the medic's head slightly, lips brushing against Ratchet's when he speaks*
Just say 'stop' and I will...
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He gasps when the younger mech nips at his neck cabling, still s little confused. He doesn't quite understand why Bluestreak is going this.
Wha-What about Sideswipe?
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Sideswipe...? Sides... he understands that people need to be held... he knows that sometimes just saying it isn't enough to show someone you care for them... he did the same for Blurr not too long ago... Sometimes you just... have to feel loved, you know...? Or else it never really sinks in...
*Purring, he winds an arm loosely around Ratchet's waist, drawing his chest flush with his own, feathering kisses down his jaw to his neck again, nipping sharply at the cables and thin plating before soothing over them with his glossa and a few warm kisses*
But like I said... just say 'stop'... or 'no'... and I'll back off... I'm not going to force you, I just want to help...
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He shudders against the grey mech, not knowing what to do but cling to the armor under his fingers.
I... Don't stop?
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Yes sir.
*Purring quietly, he slides his palm down the medic's hip, kneading gently at the plating in an idle rolling motion of his fingers; squeeze and soothe, smooth the plating with his palm and squeeze again. He vents warmly against Ratchet's throat, nibbling gently at the red plating there, seeking out the major fuel lines underneath to deliver sharp, quick nips to soothe over with his glossa; his free hand slides up to cup the back of Ratchet's helm, thumb teasing over an audio receptor while he pets the pale plating*
*He murmurs against his throat, just barely loud enough to be heard by the medic, coupled with a small, teasing grin* Doctor's orders, right~?
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He arches, gasping and clinging to the younger mech.
Y-Yeah.
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You're so sensitive, Ratchet... but I guess that's just true of medics, lots of sensors to be able to see your patients inside and out...
*Sliding his hand down from his helm, teasing over his neck gently with his fingertips, he trails his servos down his shoulder and the length of his arm to catch his wrist, gently tugging his hand up between them at optic-level*
These are the instruments of Primus... with our hands we do his work and his will, either to create, or destroy, to harm, and to heal... your hands have healed so many, and mine have only harmed... I wish I could have the hands of a healer, if only for a moment...I wish I could be like you, Ratchet...
*He licks gently at the crimson plating of his palm before drawing one white digit into his mouth, suckling gently while his glossa caresses the joints, worshiping over the thin wires and sensitive sensors*
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He doesn't really hear what Bluestreak is saying, his full attention on his hand. He's a little surprised that he can feel anything that's not pain. It's still there, hovering on the periphery of his consciousness, but it's overshadowed by the intense pleasure shooting from the sensitive sensors in his hand into the very heart of him.
Unable to even form words, he just watches the other mech work over his captured digits, the occasional choked sound of pleasure and hum of his cooling fans the only sign that he isn't completely locked up.
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*His other hand slides away from the medic hip, catching the other unmolested hand to hold, caressing over his palm and wrist with his thumb. Sliding the well-explored digit from his mouth, he licks his palm again, dragging his glossa up from heel to fingers in a firm caress before capturing two fingers, suckling slowly and working down each knuckle in turn, lavishing attention to the medic's joints*
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He whimpers and closes his optics, unable to look at what the mech is doing to him anymore. The physical sensation alone was overwhelming, there is no way he can take the visual at the same time.
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*The whimper draws his attention away from molesting the medic's fingers, opening his optics slightly to glance up at his face, studying his expression with his optics shuttered. He reluctantly abandons his tasting of Ratchet's servos, massaging his wrist and palm instead as he leaned close to the parted, whimpering lips, brushing gingerly against them before claiming them with a kiss*
Ratchet... Don't be afraid...
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He tentatively kisses the other mech back, still a little unsure of himself. He had gotten used to any kind of intimate contact being rough and demanding, not the gentle and loving caresses the younger mech was bestowing upon him.
I-I'm not afraid... I just don't understand... Why m-me? I'm old and ornery... Certainly not the most beautiful mech out there.
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Why should that matter...?
*He kisses him again, stroking over his cheek guard with the backs of his fingers*
It's because you're Ratchet... So what if you're older, and your grumpy demeanor makes you endearing... and no matter how much you yell at us for doing something stupid, we always know it's because you care... because you love us... and Ratchet... *Another kiss, winding his fingers with the medic's to offer a gentle squeeze* You give us so much of yourself... you love so much and care so much... and there's no one to care for you... Let me care for you...? Let me heal your hurts... it's only a salve, but I want to help however I can...
*He presses a light, fleeting kiss to his lips, mouth wandering down his chin and neck to caress the false glass of his chestplate*
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He almost tears up at the younger mech's kind words. He didn't feel like he deserved such care from anyone, but if it made the other mech happy, he'd accept the affection and care.
Reaching up with his free hand, he runs his fingers gently along the grey mech's chevron, arching up as he feels the other's mouth on his windshield.
Thank you, Bluestreak... For caring so much.
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You cared for me... you held me when I was hurting and you let me cry and you didn't turn me away... you cared... you showed me you loved me, the same as you love everyone... why shouldn't I care...?
*Purrs softly at the touch to his chevron, optic shutters fluttering slightly in response. Kissing across the glass, he wanders down his chest and over his abdomen, smiling against the medic's paunch as he caresses it with both hands, feathering kisses across the plating mixed with a few playful nibbles at the sides*
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