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" Brainstorm, we're in public. " Perceptor hissed the words between his dentae, trying hard to swallow the moans that wanted to slip out of him. His infuriatingly, beautiful, charming conjunx was making it even harder by slipping his fingers across the seams of Perceptor's pelvic armor. He plucked at cables and wires expertly, and Perceptor was left to put his face in his hands and moderate his vents.
:Half the fun is being in public, Perce,: Brainstorm said through their internal comms. His voice was so much richer without the buzz of the voxcoder. It was hot oil sliding down his spinal strut. Perceptor sucked down a deep vent and slowly, slowly flared some of his cladding to dump the heat.
It was dim at Swerve's that night, lit up only by a set of neon lights and the biolights of every cybertronian there. The dance floor was packed, the bar was packed, and no one was looking at them. Perceptor had to give Brainstorm credit where it was due, he knew how to take most of the danger out and still keep the thrill.
A finger snuck under the edge of his panel, pulling gently, and Perceptor found himself cycling down on nothing quite quickly. Lubricant slipped out of him, stopped by the modesty panel, but he could feel how it sat against his engorged valve lips.
"Brainstorm," he muttered, cutting his conjunx a look from the corner of his optics.
Brainstorm smiled serenely and tugged again. :You can't tell me you don't want it, Perce. I can feel how wet you're getting. You're gonna soak the bench!:
Perceptor couldn't help the way his hips jerked forward, a sound escaping him only to be lost to the beat of the music. : You're playing a very dangerous game, Brainstorm.:
:Danger is my middle name, Percy.:
:Uh huh.:
Brainstorm smiled again, his optics dim and narrowed. His field let off pulses of satisfaction, more than pleased that he'd reduced Perceptor to this trembling mess. Well. Two could certainly play at that game.
Perceptor vented deeply, rolling his shoulders back, and relaxed back in his seat. His legs spread open, a foot pressing gently against Brainstorm's calf, as his panel half transformed away. It meant the next time Brainstorm slid his hand forward, he encountered just the top part of Perceptor's array. Plush lips and the hood of his node, but no access to his valve itself.
Brainstorm’s wings jerked as his optics went overbright, washing Perceptor momentarily in an amber hue. :Percy…: His wing tip clattered against the back of their seat. :You–:
:If we're going to play, Brainstorm, we're going to play the whole game.: Perceptor prided himself on how unaffected his voice was over the comms, and his hand didn't even shake as he lifted his drink to take a sip. :If you can discreetly take me to overload, without alerting anyone else to what you're doing, I'll reward you.: Perceptor had had his fair share of secret overloads, he knew how to be quiet and unaffected. He knew how to keep a tight rein on his field so as not to be discovered. Brainstorm, on the other hand, tended to lose himself in the act itself and broadcast his emotions. It was the only time Perceptor had ever seen Brainstorm lose control of himself like that.
Honestly, he wasn't sure if he wanted Brainstorm to win or lose. Both were a win in his book.
Brainstorm swallowed, his field flickering against Perceptor’s in a wash of heated lust. Slowly, he pressed his thumb against the hood of Perceptor's anterior node, rolling it beneath the pad, only to feel Perceptor relax minutely more. Perceptor hooked his foot around Brainstorm’s ankle, tugging gently so that Brainstorm scooted closer to him on the bench.
:Good boy,: Perceptor purred.
"Oh fuck," Brainstorm breathed.
Perceptor laughed into his glass and twitched his hips up. Brainstorm scooted closer, his wing settling behind Perceptor, and drew his thumb over the node again. He started to circle it slowly, and Perceptor hummed through their comms. :That's it baby, nice and slow.:
:Percy…: Brainstorm whined, his wing tapping against Perceptor’s shoulder in an uncontrolled judder.
:You're being obvious, Stormy,: Perceptor responded. "You mentioned earlier that you were working on refining the particle accelerator? Why don't you talk me through the process you're using?"
Brainstorm hissed an ex-vent between his teeth, his optics shuttering half way. :Are you seriously going to ask me to talk about that right now?:
Perceptor looked at him from the corner of his optics, smiling wider around the rim of his glass before finishing his drink. :Would you rather I choose a different topic? Perhaps one where I detail when and how each strut of yours melts when I'm between your legs? I thought asking about the accelerator might give you a fighting chance at prolonging your loss.:
Brainstorm swore and quirked his fingers in a particularly rough circle. Perceptor's only response was to slide the top of his foot along the bottom of Brainstorm’s tertiary winglet.
"The process is simple, Percy," Brainstorm said. He gestured with his free hand, though it shivered just a little. "If you run the accelerator in a loop off the quantum engine, then it draws less power overall until it starts making its own excess power. In essence, I'm making a secondary engine that powers itself and the quantum engines so that we don't have to wait as long between long distance jumps."
"Fascinating," Perceptor said. He put his cup down, dropping his other hand down under the table. He rested it on Brainstorm’s thigh, high up where his pinky could dip into the crease of his hip between the hip skirts. "Could it be used to speed up regrowth of sentio metallico? If it's creating its own energy, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to apply some aspect of the experiment to the medibay."
"You--y-yes." Brainstorm couldn't keep track of the conversation. Perceptor was going to have an easy win at this rate. Not that he minded when Brainstorm's fingers worked magic on his node, slipping through his own slick and lessening the friction. Perceptor twitched his hips subtly and Brainstorm's fingers pressed harder in answer.
:Good boy,: he murmured, letting a little of his pleasure show in his field. Pressed tight together like this, Perceptor didn't have to unleash very much of it. Brainstorm was practically inside of it anyway. But it did have the added bonus of making Brainstorm’s optics go hazy, the light diffused, and his fingers moved a little faster. Perceptor moaned to him over the commlink even as he went on to detail his theory on sped up healing.
He was certain Brainstorm hadn't caught a single word of what he'd said. Not with the needy noises that spilled through their comms unchecked. And certainly not with how single mindedly Brainstorm was circling his node, dipping his fingers beyond the edge of the panel to pull up slick and tease Perceptor's valve. The first flicker of static tickled the tips of Brainstorm’s fingers and he crowed in Percy's processor.
:Look at that, you're already sparking for me, Perce. This is easy,: he boasted.
Perceptor slid him a look. :Easy?: He flagged down Ten from his position by the bar, signaling for a refill. At the same time, his slipped his fingers up further and dipped two into Brainstorm's hip joint. :Perhaps then I should make it more challenging for you?:
:I can take whatever you throw at me, Perce,: Brainstorm boasted. As if proving a point, he let off a static burst against Perceptor’s node.
Perceptor, to his credit, only tensed a little with a choked off sound that spilled into a moan over the comm. Very quickly he got himself back under control, and smiled at Ten as the bot brought them their drink refills. "Thank you, Ten."
"Ten."
As the giant lumbered away, Perceptor spotted Ratchet and Drift on the edge of the dance floor. They looked more than a little heated themselves; Drift in particular as he hung off of Ratchet's shoulders and swayed his hips to the beat. Ratchet was watching Drift with a fire in his optics, one that Perceptor was quite familiar with.
Party Ambulance never did disappoint.
As Ratchet and Drift edged out of the dance floor, Brainstorm had returned to his teasing strokes and fluttering circles. Sure the game was to get Perceptor off, but Brainstorm did always love to take his time at it. Fine. Perceptor could make it harder for him to win.
"Ratchet!" he called with a friendly wave. "Brainstorm was just telling me about how he plans to incorporate his most recent research to help metal mesh patches take better."
Ratchet lifted both optical ridges, looked from Perceptor to the suddenly stock still Brainstorm, and then rolled his optics. :Perceptor, if this is one of your games–:
:It is, but something tells me yours wouldn't mind a game either.: Perceptor pointedly looked at Drift, the mech looking at Ratchet like a lost puppy, and then looked back at his long time friend. "Stormy, why don't you tell Ratchet what you told me?"
:Perceptor! You know I can't lie to Ratchet! He'll weld my wings together.: Brainstorm started to move his hand away and Perceptor carefully grabbed his wrist.
:Giving up already, sweetspark? It's not lying if you tell him what you told me earlier.:
:You're evil, you know that? You should have been the Decepticon.:
Perceptor stopped himself from laughing just in time as Ratchet and Drift slid into their booth. Drift was perched on Ratchet’s lap, none too subtly moving his hips. He looked more than a little buzzed, and Perceptor couldn't blame him really. Drift was always like that when he was overcharged.
Now, Ratchet's guiding hand on Drift's waist was an interesting touch.
"Fine, you caught me in a good mood anyway," Ratchet groused. He pulled out some regular mid-grade and sipped at it casually. "Go on then, Brainstorm, tell me about your plan."
:If either of you moan, so help me by the Hand I will weld both of your interfacing panels shut,: Ratchet said over the private comm.
Perceptor hid his laugh in his drink and let his panel unfold the rest of the way for Brainstorm. :You worked with me for eons, Ratchet. Have I ever let you hear something you weren't meant to?:
;I don't want to think about you fragging anyone else in my medbay, Perceptor.:
:Then don't think it.:
Ratchet scoffed aloud, coinciding with a break in speech that Brainstorm had utilized. It hung in the air almost awkwardly as Ratchet caught up, and Perceptor pressed his mouth into a thin line so he didn't laugh.
"That's absurd. It has merit but it would need extensive testing before putting it to use on the living," he said, recovering. Drift chose that moment to circle his hips slowly and Ratchet's optics went unfocused for a moment.
Brainstorm gasped in Perceptor’s audial. :Oh shit, they're doing it too?: He trailed a finger down and sank it into the wet heat of Perceptor's valve, and it took everything in Perceptor to not to throw the competition with a well timed moan.
Perceptor, instead, twitched his hips up and tightened his leg around Brainstorm’s, sinking him further in. :Good, a-ah, good boy, Brainstorm. Your fingers feel so good sweetspark."
"As the engine powers itself up, the installed net will catch the excess energy being put off and funneled into whatever we need it for. Metal grafts, welding, cybercrosis, you name it! It should help older bots like Tailgate get through extensive surgery a lot easier," Brainstorm said, his voice surprisingly calm. He quirked his fingers inside Perceptor, brushing along an interior node that made Perceptor momentarily see stars.
“Uh huh. That’s assuming your proposed net works at all,” Ratchet drawled. He took a long draw from his drink.
Perceptor could see how Drift watched Ratchet’s neck cables with the motion and stifled a laugh. :I don’t think we’re going to have company for very long with how Drift is behaving,: he commented idly to Brainstorm. Brainstorm’s next vent was half a laugh, his thigh pressing a little more firmly against Perceptor’s.
:Can hardly blame, Drift. Ratchet isn’t my type but we’ve all heard the stories.:
Perceptor twitched his fingers into Brainstorm’s wires just to feel the sizzle of static against his sensor net. :Oh, I’ve lived the stories. Surely I’ve mentioned it before?:
Brainstorm’s fingers stilled even as he responded to Ratchet, though Perceptor didn’t pay attention to what exactly he was saying. He was more interested in the lash of jealousy that poured off of his sparkmate before it was overlaid with interest.
:Yeah? Party ambulance live up to the hype?: Brainstorm’s voice was kept carefully neutral. Perceptor got the feeling he had just started a dangerous game. :You two enjoy your days in the academy?:
Perceptor cycled his optics slowly. :Brainsto–:
Brainstorm shoved his fingers in deep, letting static dance across the fingertips and grounding the charge in Perceptor’s nodes. Perceptor froze, an error flashing on his HUD as he dug his fingers into Brainstorm’s thigh. :It’s okay if you did, Perce,: Brainstorm purred, :That was so long ago, and I know who you call for. But I think I’m bored of this little game. Maybe I want them to know what I’m doing to you.:
:You’ll get us both banned from the bar.:
:The price I’m willing to pay for this experiment.:
Perceptor cycled his optics again and slid a glance at Ratchet. Drift was nibbling at his neck cables and the medic was relaxed, his arm looped around Drift’s waist.
:Having issues, Perceptor?: Ratchet asked with a clear tease in his tone.
:Nothing I can’t handle, Ratchet,: Perceptor replied. He pulled his hand away from Brainstorm, grabbing his wrist instead. :Brainstorm,: he started, :Ratchet said if he heard either of us moan he was going to weld our interfacing panels shut and I'm 98% positive that he means it.:
Brainstorm pulled his hand away a little, and then pushed three fingers into Perceptor with no warning. Perceptor’s scope jerked and his vocals clicked, though the sound was lost in the music. :I guess you better stay quiet then, Percy.:
Well. That wasn’t the response he’d expected. Brainstorm had never gotten jealous before. He combed through his conjunx’s field, checking to make sure the jealousy wasn’t rooted in resentment. :Wait, Brainstorm, we should talk–:
:I love you,: was the jet’s response, :we’re okay. We’re just playing, Perce.:
Perceptor relaxed almost immediately. :Okay.:
If Brainstorm said they were okay, then they were okay.
:Did I lose because Ratchet knows?: Brainstorm asked. He curled his fingers again, fluttering them delightfully. It left Perceptor grabbing onto him tightly, sucking down a shaky vent as his hips twitched.
:N-no. Ratchet doesn't count. God, Brainstorm…: He cycled down on Brainstorm’s fingers, suddenly hyper aware of his lubricant dripping between his thighs. He was going to leave a mess on the bench at this rate. Swerve would be upset, or far too into it for Perceptor's taste, but he was hard pressed to care.
Ratchet suddenly choked at his side, the medic breaking into stifled laughter. When Perceptor focused enough to look at him, Ratchet was holding Drift back with one hand and peering across the dance floor to a shadowy corner. "We've all been on this damn ship too long together."
Perceptor turned his helm, following Ratchet's gaze, and was somehow surprised and yet not to see Rodimus pinned against a wall in a wanton display. No, the truly surprising part was that it was Magnus of all mechs thoroughly devouring their captain in public.
"Do you think our drinks were drugged again?" Perceptor asked. He leaned back a little further in his seat, pressing against Brainstorm’s twitching wing tip. The jet shifted enough to smack Perceptor's scope with his wing. Perceptor swiped his thumb across Brainstorm’s wrist in a silent apology. "That is fairly out of character for Magnus."
Brainstorm craned his neck to look too, letting out a low whistle. "Or Rodders finally annoyed him enough to make him snap." He shifted in his seat, casually throwing a leg over Perceptor’s knee and pressing him into the bench.
Ratchet laughed again and tugged Drift more firmly back onto his lap. "Either way, not our problem tonight. Aid is on shift, he can handle it." He slanted Brainstorm and Perceptor a look before finishing his drink and standing from the table. "Just don't frag on the benches. I don't want to be administering viral medications to either of you cause you can't keep your hands to yourself."
That made Drift's finials twitch as he finally turned to regard Perceptor and Brainstorm. He smacked Ratchet on the shoulder. "No lectures for them on public indecency?"
"If they want to flash everyone on board and let them be privy to their interfacing habits, that's their business," Ratchet said. He slung his arm around Drift's waist and tugged him close. "I'm more possessive in my old age."
Perceptor pressed his mouth into a thin line, amusement bleeding through his field. Brainstorm slid his thumb across Perceptor's anterior node in answer and was far too smug when Perceptor practically melted. "Go enjoy your evening, Ratchet," Perceptor said.
"Yeah yeah, you too." Ratchet and Drift slipped away then, leaving Perceptor and Brainstorm in the relative peace of their hidden, shadowed booth.
Brainstorm dipped his helm, pressing a kiss to Perceptor’s cheek and then teasing his glossa over the flare of his cheek guards. "So how many times have you done this before, Perce?" he asked in a heated whisper, his vents blowing scalding air against Perceptor’s helm.
Perceptor made a quiet sound, a shiver sliding down his spinal strut. That voice worked wonders to shut down all higher levels of thinking. :A handful.: He tipped his helm as Brainstorm nuzzled into his neck, cycling down onto Brainstorm’s fingers at the first hint of the jet's dentae. :Never, ah, never with someone I want as much as you though.:
:Flattery will get you everything, Percy,: Brainstorm purred. He rocked his fingers firmly, catching a node that lit Perceptor's sensor net up like fireworks. He crooked his fingers again and finally, finally settled into a pace that Perceptor could match with small undulations of his hips.
Charge crackled under his plating and Brainstorm moved just enough to shield it from view. Not that anyone in the bar was paying them mind. Everyone was too focused on how Magnus was taking Rodimus apart.
Perceptor gave himself over to the sensations, tipping his helm to hide his face against Brainstorm's shoulder. He was fairly certain that from the outside it looked like he'd simply dozed off against his conjunx–not the first time it had happened and certainly wouldn't be the last–and that let him relax just enough to gasp near silent moans in Brainstorm's audial. Perceptor shuttered his optics and loosely held onto Brainstorm’s wrist, letting his fingers drag over the biolights there.
Brainstorm blew a vent of molten air directly across his scope, and touched the very tip with his mouth. At the same time, he rocked his fingers in deep and spread them wide, stretching Perceptor out and letting more lubricant drip from his valve. Then he pressed his thumb into Perceptor's anterior node and rubbed hard.
Perceptor slammed a lock on his own vocals as his frame pitched and rolled, a wave building up inside of him until it unleashed with a sharp crack of lightning and the smell of ozone. Perceptor held onto Brainstorm tightly, shivering imperceptibly as his fans spun up in answer, dumping heat and leaving him gasping against the metal of Brainstorm’s secondary winglet. His voxcoder crackled and clicked as he reset it, leaving him to blink the stars out of his optics.
:No one noticed,: Brainstorm supplied smugly.
Perceptor turned his helm just enough to press a kiss to Brainstorm’s chassis, noting how quickly his spark was turning. :Suppose that means I owe you a reward,: he answered.
:My reward is you in our berth with my face between your thighs because you are soaked and I don't want a single thing to be wasted.: Brainstorm’s voice dropped to a mental growl and Perceptor abruptly cycled down on his fingers again, oozing more lubricant.
: Yes ,: he groaned over the comm. Brainstorm’s fingers were petting over him again, slowly working him back up. :Storm if you don't stop for a minute we're not going to make it back to–:
There was a pop, a woosh of displaced air, and Perceptor was left reeling as his tank churned unhappily. "Wha–"
"Short range teleport," Brainstorm answered. "Hooked it up between us and our suite for quick getaways." He straddled Perceptor’s hips fully, placing his hands on Perceptor’s shoulders and pushing until Perceptor was flat on the berth. "Exceptionally useful when I don't want to waste the time walking back when I could just have you in my berth already."
That really shouldn't have been that hot.
Perceptor bucked his hips anyway.
Brainstorm laughed, the sound pure if half crazed, and ground his suddenly very open array down against Perceptor’s. Perceptor grabbed onto Brainstorm’s hips quickly, groaning as his back arched.
"Th-that hardly seems like proper use for a–frag–short range–nngh–" Talking was very difficult when Brainstorm got his mouth on Perceptor’s neck. His sensor net lit up like fireworks, buzzing through him like warm engex each and every time Brainstorm’s canines scraped across his cabling. " Brainstorm, " he said, half moan and half admonishment.
"You like it," Brainstorm purred. He teased his glossa between two cables, nipping at the top most one before he dragged his mouth to the coupling holding Perceptor’s scope in place. He licked the coupling in a broad stroke and did it again as Perceptor tossed his helm back with a full throated moan. "You're just as impatient as I am, Percy," Brainstorm murmured in his audial. His vents were hot and wet, steam curling from his cheeks. "You like it when I bend the rules a little to get you under me."
Perceptor cleared his notification wall and hooked his ankle around Brainstorm’s, rolling them abruptly. With one hand pressed firmly against Brainstorm’s shoulder, Perceptor managed to kneel between his legs with minimal shaking. "I think there's something far more interesting you could be doing with that mouth of yours," he growled.
Brainstorm's engine trilled, vibrating through Perceptor's hands and hips. It made the microscope whine, his optics shuttering halfway without permission. He could feel the rev deep in his valve, and Perceptor dug his fingers into the transformation seams of Brainstorm’s shoulder.
"Yeah I do," Brainstorm was saying, breathless, his hands shaking where they settled on Perceptor’s arm. "You gonna come up here and let me work my magic? Gonna ride me till your legs give out?"
"You would be so lucky," Perceptor drawled, though the quiver of his field betrayed how much he wanted that. He bent down a little, licking a stripe across Brainstorm’s cockpit just to smudge the glass. It wasn't like Brainstorm cared too much. He arched into it with a throaty sound that went straight to Perceptor's spike.
"Come on, Perce, reward me," Brainstorm gasped. He gave a slow undulation of his hips, drawing Perceptor’s attention to Brainstorm’s unsheathed spike. It tipped a little to one side, drooling with transfluid, and it was the best spike Perceptor had ever had the pleasure of taking.
With an arch of his spinal strut, he bent and bent until his mouth brushed the top of Brainstorm’s spike. He gave it a quick kiss, dipping his glossa into the tip, before straightening back up. It was only then that he started to crawl up Brainstorm, working his way up until his drooling valve hovered over Brainstorm’s face.
Brainstorm wasted no time at all in grabbing Perceptor’s hips and pulling him down. His grip was firm, scorching, and Perceptor wailed at the first touch of his glossa. He braced himself with one hand on the wall behind the berth, curling towards Brainstorm with rapid vents. His hips moved in stuttered, jerky motions, his array still sensitive from his overload in the bar. Fuck but it felt good. Brainstorm’s glossa was talented in many ways, but this was one of Perceptor's favorites.
It took a moment between his lingering charge and Brainstorm’s single minded focus, but eventually Perceptor did smooth out the rhythm of his hips. He ground down into Brainstorm's open and willing mouth, and the jet moaned wantonly beneath him. The reverberation made Perceptor clutch at his arm with a strangled sound. Brainstorm’s glossa curled into him, stroked the wall on the way out, went up to his node and his whole mouth closed around it to suck.
Perceptor swore static and ground down into it even harder. "Fuck, Brainstorm, " he gasped.
:That's right baby, say my name. Wanna hear you scream for me,: came the immediate reply through their internal comms.
Perceptor pushed down and rocked his hips in tight circles to occupy Brainstorm’s mouth and fingers. "Brainstorm," he murmured, his voice thick. "Ah, Primus, sweetspark you feel so good. Just like that, Storm-Y!" He dropped his helm with a loud moan, his valve cycling down rapidly amidst the burrowing fingers. "Ah fuck --"
:Mm, love it when you swear for me, Perce,: Brainstorm purred. He pressed his glossa firmly against Perceptor’s node, laving a broad stroke across it. : You taste good. Could stay here for days.:
Perceptor laughed, though the sound was quiet and strangled as he rocked roughly. "Pr-pretty certain you'd end up starving," he huffed.
Brainstorm’s wings fluttered and he wormed his fingers into Perceptor’s open hip flexors, tweaking a few wires. :Death would be such a small price to pay,: he drawled. He pressed hard against the node again before drawing out the glyphs of his name against it.
Perceptor slapped his hand against the wall with a shout, his plating starting to rattle from the force of his fans. "Oh God, Storm, don't stop," he pleaded.
Brainstorm curled his fingers a little more firmly into him, dragging on nodes with each downstroke that made Perceptor see stars and contemplate believing in God for real.
With a rough thrust of Brainstorm's fingers, a clever twist of his glossa, and a rev of the jet's engine, Perceptor fell into the crackling darkness of overload. His thighs shook, his actuators and synthetic muscles creaking in the aftermath. His voxcodor spat static in increasing frequency, the pitch rising and falling as the aftershocks rolled through him.
Brainstorm jolted under him, his secondary vents heaving without the use of his intake, but Perceptor knew he'd be fine. Brainstorm had taken Perceptor to task for far longer than this before. What was interesting though was the feedback of charge running between their fields. Normally it bled off, but it kept echoing between them. Perceptor grunted and tilted his hips away from Brainstorm's face, looking down.
Brainstorm was positively covered in lubricant and trans fluid. His hips made aborted little twitches as he whined. "Perce, c'mon Perce, Percy, please ." His charge was crackling just under the gaps of his armor.
Perceptor cycled his optics, making a small sound as he reset his vocals. Rebooting from that took a minute, it always did, but his sparkmate was writhing and begging and– oh.
Perceptor scooted back until he hovered over Brainstorm’s hips, then reached with one hand to hold his conjunx steady as he sank his valve down onto the heat of Brainstorm’s spike. He groaned, throaty and low and overwhelmed, his whole frame shaking with the wash of pleasure that chased away every other concern.
"Oh Brainstorm ," he sighed, letting his helm fall back. Slowly, carefully, he used his thighs, rising and falling on Brainstorm’s spike as the jet keened under him.
He wasn't sure if Brainstorm could work another overload out of him. Two in such quick succession left his systems hot and struggling, his motor relays slow to respond even as he sought Brainstorm's pleasure. He braced his hands on Brainstorm's cockpit with an overwhelmed moan, his calipers rippling out of sync with the motion of his hips.
Brainstorm's hands came up to cover his own, the jet murmuring something that Percy didn't catch, and then they were rolling. Brainstorm pushed him down into the berth, his hands sliding over Perceptor's hips and thighs and squeezing at the intake tubes on his waist. Perceptor arched into it, groaning, and hooked his legs around Brainstorm's waist.
Brainstorm grabbed one by the thigh and lifted higher, forcing Perceptor to bend and open further, and only then did he rock his hips again. Perceptor scrambled for a handhold, his voxcoder shorting out as his optics blazed white. Brainstorm was so deep his spike was kissing Perceptor ceiling node, pressing past it, like Brainstorm was trying to work his way into Perceptor's fuel tank and curl up inside of his frame. He clung to a wing, his own shout echoing in his audials, and Brainstorm's answering laugh was strained.
"Fuck, Perce, you're so hot like this," he purred. He kept a steady rhythm now, hard and deep, the edge of his spike housing pressing against Perceptor’s anterior node with each thrust and grind. Half formed thoughts swept out of reach before Perceptor even acknowledged them. "Look at you," Brainstorm rasped, "God you're gorgeous. So needy. So wet. Just for me."
Perceptor nodded, agreeing. Just for Brainstorm. Only ever for Brainstorm now. He wailed at a particularly hard thrust and clamped his knees tight to Brainstorm's waist.
"I've got you, Perce," Brainstorm panted, "I've got you sweetspark." He nuzzled his face into the curve of Perceptor’s neck, groaning when Perceptor dug his fingers harder into Brainstorm's wing. Perceptor flexed around him, his calipers rippling and cycling down to connect at every point along Brainstorm's spike. The charge sparked, spiraling, bending Perceptor's back off of the berth as he pleaded silently for more.
Brainstorm gave him more.
With one hand planted on the mattress and the other on Perceptor's thigh, Brainstorm licked a long, obscene line up the bottom of Perceptor's scope before wrapping his mouth around the eye piece. A nibble. A lick. A lewd suck.
Perceptor thrashed, grabbing onto Brainstorm for dear life as the third overload tore through his systems like wildfire. Like an out of control virus. Something popped and smoked, a warning flashing briefly on his HUD. He was dimly aware that he was yelling Brainstorm's designation, his whole frame alight with charge and pleasure and the roiling feedback he got from their combined fields.
He only knew Brainstorm tipped over from the rush of transfluid in his valve, over his thighs, leaking from him. He gasped for air, flushing coolant through his systems as fast as he dared as they redlined and overclocked, but he didn't let go of Brainstorm. He didn't let go even as his fuel pump finally evened out and his frame stopped pinging.
Instead, Perceptor loosened his grip with his thighs when Brainstorm completely collapsed on top of him with a weary curse. Brainstorm said something unintelligible and Perceptor only pulled him in a little tighter, still shaking like a cornered turbofox. If he had known public indecency got this much of a reaction from his sparkmate he would have done it a Pit of a lot sooner.
Brainstorm's systems settled into a doze, their frames still locked together, and Perceptor nuzzled at the top of Brainstorm’s helm gently. More testing for later. They were definitely going to have to do this again.