“It’s undignified!” he claimed.
“It’s unprofessional!” he sniped.
“It makes a mess!” he whined.
And yet none of that kept Pharma from snapping, “Harder, rust you! Or I’ll take it myself!” as Ratchet pounded into his valve with sharp thrusts.
He had Pharma against a filing cabinet this time, one of his partner’s legs thrown over his hip while Pharma clutched at him with fingers turned to gripping claws. Pharma huffed and snarled, his valve cinching hungrily on Ratchet’s spike. His ailerons fluttered, his lips peeled back over his denta.
“Any harder and I’ll dent your damn thruster,” Ratchet growled.
“You don’t have the strength,” Pharma hissed. A challenge.
Ratchet’s engine rumbled. He bit at Pharma’s intake, leaving a dent on those pristine cables, even as he hiked Pharma’s leg higher on his hip. He pounded into Pharma with abandon, hearing the scraping skreel of thruster on fancy cabinet.
“I’ll show you strength,” Ratchet snapped.
Pharma hitched a laugh. “Do try your best, Ratchet. We’ll see.”
Fragging. Arrogant. Jet!
There were going to be scrapes in the cabinet later.
Oh, the frag well.
It wouldn’t be the first time.