Chapter Text
Tailgate settled into his berth, finally allowing his frame to relax after the long shift he just endured. Magnus had him on cleaning duty for the lower decks... distantly Tailgate wondered what he'd done to make the stiff mech mad at him. Nobody enjoyed cleaning the lower decks.
Still, after a good shower all was well. Well... not quite. Tailgate had been restless as of late and tonight Cyclonus was out for night shift so he had the habsuite to himself. Mustering up the energy to get up and dig under the berth, Tailgate thought about how to go about this. He'd been accruing excess charge for a week now, old frame not quite able to discharge it like the newer mechs could if need be. No, Tailgate had to turn to more primitive methods of charge reduction. Finally, he found what he was looking for.
Tailgate sat back on his berth, digging through the small case containing his various "self-help" toys, as Whirl would probably refer to them. Digging through the box he pulled out a vibrator. Fairly simple, but it would do the job nicely. He put the box back under the berth. Lying back once more, Tailgate shifted to spread his legs open, retracting his panels to gain access to the already moist valve and slowly erecting spike.
Positioning was a rather complicated feat, but the length of the vibrator wand allowed him to touch his anterior node and focus on his spike at the same time. Usually Tailgate didn't wait so long in between getting off, but there had been a fight between Whirl and... someone, maybe himself, that cracked a whole lot of pipes in the engine room, flooding various parts of the ship with suffocating airborne chemicals via the vent system. Everyone had been forced into the safe places, most of them sleeping in a slumber-party style at Swerve's or on the bridge. It was actually pretty fun! Being pretty fun did not change the fact that it had taken a week to fix, and now Tailgate could probably overload twice or more before his excess charge was fully dissipated.
Turning on the vibrator, Tailgate circled his anterior node with it. The extra stimulation rapidly extended his spike until a few small droplets of lubricant were leaking from the tip and it was twitching. Tailgate could feel the rapidly increasing need for friction and the looming overload from here. Focusing on his valve for a few moments more, Tailgate moved the vibrator until it was at that perfect point to feel the zing through his circuits and make his hips twitch and thrust up, his arm stopping them from moving with the pressure he put to keep the vibrator where he wanted it. Tailgate was not a vocal mech during masturbation, and he imagined he wouldn't be for interfacing, but with stimulation like this he could imagine why other mechs moaned. He kept the vibrator in place while he turned his attention to his spike, now near uncomfortable with the need for friction. He wrapped his fingers around it, lightly stroking before tightening his grip, letting up with his other arm just enough to allow his hips to jerk upwards into his hand, lighting up pressure nodes deliciously. He could feel a trickle of lubricant flow from his shivering valve, perhaps he could have grabbed a false spike to stuff it with before beginning but he didn't want to - couldn't - interrupt himself now to get it. He bucked into his hand again, this time slightly more under his own willpower.
Tailgate settled into a rhythm as he turned the vibrator up a notch, rolling his hips to drag his anterior node against the toy and moving his spike where it was clutched in his hand on every roll. He could feel his rhythm start to unfurl as he got closer to an overload - his vision got slightly staticky as his hips trembled and bucked, sensation from the vibrator traveling all the way down to his peds and spike fully leaking all over his hand. There were small puddles of lubricant on the berth and on his plating, but they went nearly unnoticed as Tailgate overloaded, hips thrusting and tensing against the stimulation. His vision whited out with static and he arched off the berth, shaking and trembling until the overload subsided and he relaxed, still shaking and half hard. his valve clenched randomly and when he touched his anterior node his hips fully jerked away, unfortunately only having the berth to dig into. Once he calmed down a bit he'd be ready to get rid of the other half of his pent up charge, and this time he would grab that false spike.
Taking a moment to lay on the berth, Tailgate basked in the post-overload feeling. He was already starting to settle, the charge that had been making him snippy starting to abate.
Tailgate rolled over, bending down to rummage for his false spike. It was a big spike, quite obviously meant for normal sized bots, but Tailgate was nothing if not kinky, and if he was going to be spiked he needed to be filled. His valve was lax and soaked with lubricant when Tailgate lined up the false spike with it, easily parting and making way around the toy. He could feel the stretch already, calipers opening wider than they were technically supposed to to accommodate the size of the object. Maybe, someday, they would stretch this way to accommodate Cyclonus, and the warrior would hold Tailgate down and frag him until he couldn't think anymore, reduced to a limp bundle of metal and wire meant to only take Cyclonus's big spike-
Tailgate's hips had begun rolling again as he eased the toy inside, stretching his valve out gloriously around its girth. He pushed it in more, impatient to feel it fill him up completely like Cyclonus's spike would, pressing against his calipers and making an outline of itself in his pelvic plating. Oh, how he'd love to be able to reach down and feel the intrusion in his valve as it moved, pumping in and out of him until they overloaded, Cyclonus pumping hot transfluid into him until it overflowed around his spike - not that that would be possible with his valve already stretched to capacity, but with the amount of lubricant he secreted just by thinking about it, he might be slick enough for Cyclonus to thrust thrust in and out of, using him as his own personal frag toy.
Before he knew it, Tailgate had the toy fully inside himself and could feel it as he twitched and shifted. He wasn't far off from overload at all now, having put the vibrator back to ruthlessly stimulating his anterior node and spike brushing between his stomach plating and the arm he was holding the spike with. Tailgate didn't even bother moving the spike himself, instead he tucked his ped up to keep it inside as he took his spike in hand once more and set a brutal pace, each thrust accompanied by a subsequent rocking back that shifted the spike in his valve to hit all sorts of different nodes. He pressed the vibrator harder to his anterior node, imagining it was Cyclonus pinning him down, locking him between the warrior and the berth and thrusting, hitting his ceiling node and pushing him further up the berth every time he sheathed himself inside the minibot, ramping his charge higher, higher, and oh, oh Cyclonus!
Tailgate overloaded with a crackle of electricity, frame arching itself up from the berth surface. His vision went to static and then cut out, optical feeds rebooting from the spike in charge. Tailgate shook wildly as his spike shot spurts of transfluid up his chassis, his valve clenching tightly around the toy. The vibrator fell from his hand as his servos curled and tensed from the surge. The overload lasted a few long blissful moments, until he lowered himself to the berth, venting harshly and allowing the spike to slide itself out of his too sensitive valve by way of his post-overload lubricant secretion. Stray bolts of charge crackled over his plating as he twitched and throbbed to his sparkbeat, coming down from the high much slower this time.
After waiting for the bliss to dissipate along with the last of his restless charge, Tailgate heaved himself up to clean the toys, himself, and the berth before settling in for a deep and peaceful slumber. If his dreams included stretching impossibly around Cyclonus's spike as the warrior bent him over the side of the berth and fragged his lights out, that made it all the better.