Chapter Text
“Oh! Oh, Cyclonus~!”
Tailgate moaned as warmth surrounded him, a moist wet cavern that engulfed every single inch of his spike. A dexterous appendage passed through every special node adorning it, igniting charge to race across his sensor net.
He felt more than heard the being hum around him as a skillful mouth proceeded to bob up and down his spike, slowly and evenly. All the while that mouth sucked hard and long, stimulating various nodes and causing Tailgate to squeal.
Primus, he was so hot. Tailgate was so hot. His cooling fans desperately tried to cool his frame but with each movement of that moist cavern, he felt his control slipping by the second.
And they had just started.
No matter how many times they had done this, he would never get used to the feeling of Cyclonus’s sinful mouth on and around him. It was just so darn good, and the best part was that Cyclonus knew exactly what he was doing. He knew just how to manipulate Tailgate where he wanted him without pushing too far. He knew how to drive Tailgate to the brink of overload and keep him there until Cyclonus deemed him worthy of overload. Cyclonus was—
“OOOH!”
Static escaped him as his vision turned white, all other senses leaving him except for the charge dispelling across his frame. He didn’t for how long he was like this, but for a while at least, the pleasure was the only thing he knew.
When senses returned to him, he suddenly shot up from the berth and looked down at his partner—
Only to meet the shocked, transfluid splattered face of Cyclonus.
For a long moment, Tailgate could only look at his conjux with a wide visor and if he had an actual mouth, it would be as wide as Cyclonus’.
Which happened to still have transfluid dribbling out from his parted lips and down his chin. And his nose. And his cheek structures. And some managed to land on his left horn…
He snorted.
Then Tailgate cackled.
Clutching his stomach, the minibot laughed like a mech gone mad. Coolant leaked from the corners of his visor and his voice became laced with static as he tried—and failed—to speak.
“Oh! Cyc—Cyclo—nus! I’m—I’m so—” He wheezed. “I’m so so~rry!” If he was able to think rationally, he would have been embarrassed at how high-pitched his voice became. “I did—I di—HA! I didn’t mean to f-fuh…FINISH!”
The minibot rolled onto his side and howled. The situation was just so funny, so RIDICULOUS that he could only laugh until his frame begged for mercy. When he was finally able to calm himself slightly, he smiled at his conjux who loomed over him with an enamored expression, face wiped clean of any evidence from their previous tryst.
Except for the spot on his horn.
Tailgate threw himself in another fit of giggles.