[Crown the Empire] Tomfoolery

It should have made him angry, irrational beyond all reason. But there was something about the arrogance in Grimlock’s field that was a shade different and acceptable. Rather than inspiring vitriol, it made heat drizzle down Starscream’s spinal strut.

He should have snarled and jerked away. Instead, he cried out and drew in desperate pants through his vents as Grimlock crowded against him from behind, pinning him against the wall of the washracks. Solvent pattered down on top of them, steaming hot, a rain against Starscream’s already heated plating.

Grimlock’s face pressed against the side of his neck, ex-vents caressing Starscream’s cables. His mouthplate vibrated, adding to the pleasure.

Starscream tossed his helm back and moaned. His hands scraped at the walls, fingers tangling in the metallic mesh. Grimlock’s hands gripped his waist, his hips. He lifted Starscream with ease as he ground against Starscream’s aft. His spike left a wet smear, one that was washed away by a stream of solvent.

Arousal throbbed heavy in Starscream’s lines. His panels were open, spike throbbing, valve pulsing, dripping lubricant. He canted his hips backward, waiting for the moment when Grimlock would slide into him, thick and wide, parting the folds of his valve and taking him.

Such thoughts should have angered him. Made him humiliated. Yet, he felt the complete opposite when Grimlock touched him. Careful and appreciative, rather than rough and dismissive. He felt celebrated, not used.

He felt wanted.

“Tell me,” Grimlock growled into his audial, his spike rubbing against Starscream’s rim, catching on his anterior node. Pleasure lit a bonfire through his circuits.

Starscream growled. He shuttered his optics, bowed his helm, the solvent pattering down over him. Every time, damn it. Every time, Grimlock insisted on this.

Grimlock’s helm rubbed against his, affection and insistence. His fingers flexed on Starscream’s waist. His ex-vents blew into the shower, setting off a rise of steam.

“Tell me,” he demanded again.

Starscream’s engine growled. He was on the tip of his pedes as he shoved his aft back toward Grimlock, canting his hips encouragingly. “Do it,” he demanded as something inside of him clicked into place, welcoming. “Frag me, damn you. Do it.”

Grimlock growled, a near-bestial sound. He lifted Starscream that much higher, clear off his pedes. He rolled his hips, the head of his spike catching against the lip of Starscream’s valve. It nudged inside, lighting up the first ring of sensors, and Starscream moaned. He was already halfway to overload and Grimlock had barely touched him.

“Tell me to stop,” Grimlock said, not a request, but a reminder.

“More,” Starscream said instead and shuddered when Grimlock obeyed, when he pushed into Starscream in one slow, aching slide.

Every single sensor node lit up at once, and Starscream shuddered, his valve cycling down. Arousal tangled inside of him as electric fire coursed through his frame. He moaned, hands scraping at the wall, as Grimlock bottomed out inside of him and then circled his hips, grinding steadily on Starscream’s ceiling node.

He panted, desperate breaths through his vent. His plating heated, solvent evaporating with a sizzle where it touched him. Grimlock throbbed within him, his grip unrelenting and steadying. His field rose up, swallowing Starscream whole, full of desire and appreciation and Starscream writhed just in that sensation alone. His wings shivered, trapped against Grimlock’s bulk, the press of his chestplate. Grimlock’s engine roared, the vibrations carrying through Starscream’s entire frame.

He overloaded with a shout, valve cycling down tight, spike dribbling transfluid to join the solvent swirl down the drain.

Grimlock nuzzled against his helm, spike keeping still within Starscream’s valve as charge nipped at the receptor nodes. “That was one,” he growled as his fingers flexed. “Think we have time for two?”

Starscream pushed against the wall, shoving himself backward as best he was capable, stirring the spike within his valve. He peered over his shoulder, catching the gleam of Grimlock’s visor.

“We have time for as many as you think you can manage,” Starscream replied, ignoring the rasp in his vocalizer and the tremors wracking his frame.

Grimlock chuckled, his spike pulsing. “Is that a challenge, my second?”

A shiver zapped down Starscream’s spinal strut. There was something in the way Grimlock claimed him with words alone that never failed to make Starscream melt.

“Of course it is,” he retorted, though the waspish reply fell short when it trailed into a moan as Grimlock started to move, little rolling thrusts that toyed with his sensor nodes.

Grimlock purred into his audial. “Then it’ll be my pleasure.”

Starscream gasped as Grimlock started to move again, inciting curls of pleasure that seemed to radiate through Starscream’s frame.

At this rate, they’d never leave the washracks. Thank Primus for the solvent recycling facilities. And that the only one who’d dare disturb them would never do so.

It was an indulgence in something Starscream never thought he would have. And he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.


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