Starscream had long since stopped asking how Jazz snuck into his habsuite. It was a foregone conclusion now.
Besides, why waste time asking questions when he could enjoy the sexy spy straddling his thigh? Jazz’s panels were closed, as they often were, but still gave off a scorching heat. The scrape-slide of his valve panel against Starscream’s thigh armor was a maddening tease.
As Jazz often was.
“Primus, you’re sexy,” Jazz gasped as he rode Starscream’s thigh like he might a spike, his hips rocking and rolling to his own special rhythm. His right knee kept nudging at Starscream’s own interface array, sending pressure and vibration through his empty, aching valve.
But two could play this game and Starscream’s own panels were closed, too.
“I know,” Starscream replied, amused. He cupped Jazz’s aft with one hand, inching Jazz closer, and let the other toy with Jazz’s sensory horns, stroking them gently.
Jazz shivered. His field rolled out, stroking over Starscream’s. “And modest, too.”
“You should know by now that flattery won’t work on me,” Starscream retorted with a curve of his lips as Jazz’s rocking increased in earnest. His ex-vents came in short, sharp bursts, his lips parting as he panted. Little curls of charge licked over his frame.
Frag if he wasn’t a hot little thing, too. Pity that keeping him wasn’t an option on the table at the moment.
Jazz smirked at him, his glossa sweeping over his lips. “Yeah, well, it never hurts to try, Starbaby.”
Starscream patted his aft. “Your nicknames are also ridiculous.”
Jazz laughed and slung an arm over Starscream’s shoulder, bringing the close enough that his bumper brushed Starscream’s cockpit. “Want me to stop then?” His visor flashed.
Starscream rolled his optics. “As pointless as that would be–”
Jazz interrupted him with another barked laugh, his knee applying a firmer pressure against Starscream’s panel, sending a bolt of pleasure through his array. “Make me,” he purred.
Starscream’s optics narrowed. He pinched Jazz’s sensory horn between two fingers and smirked as Jazz’s backstrut curved, as he sighed a moan and pleasure licked through his field.
“Ahh, you know how to treat a bot right, Starbaby,” Jazz sighed.
Starscream squeezed harder and was treated to a low whimper, one that sent a bolt of desire straight into his spark. “Then perhaps you should take that as the hint it is,” he retorted.
Jazz’s visor half-lit. His other hand slid over Starscream’s ventrum, tickling into his seams. He revved his engine. “Ya don’t have a leash strong enough,” he purred.
“Yet anyway.” Starscream leaned in to steal those tempting lips, but just like the squirmy spy he was, Jazz deftly avoided him with a little chuckle.
“Mmm. Never will.” Jazz teased his clavicular strut, fingers stroking over the side of Starscream’s intake. “That isn’t how this plays, remember?”
The touch was delicate, soft, teasing enough to be arousing – and also a pointed reminder of how close to off-lining he was every time he allowed Jazz into his berth.
“Frag you,” Starscream muttered.
Jazz’s low laugh was the first genuine sound of amusement he made all evening. “That’s what we’re doing, or am I confused, hm?” He rocked forward, knee scraping heavily over Starscream’s panel, his own leaking profusely over Starscream’s thigh. “Lemme have that overload, yeah?”
Starscream’s grip on Jazz’s sensory horn tightened to the point of stressing the metal, but Jazz didn’t so much as hiss. “Hate you,” he growled as the yanked their frames together and shivered as heat and charge poured over him.
“Love you, too, Starshine,” Jazz purred.
Sometimes, Starscream wasn’t sure if it was lust or loathing that existed between them.
Maybe they were one and the same.