Work Text:
“Corrosio ardens.” Nautica’s voice was gentle, but firm.
“Um . . . weekly injections of—” Lotty started to guess.
Nautica’s careful fingers slipped down and found her valve, causing her to break off with a little gasp.
“Don’t guess,” Nautica said. “Think first. You know this one.”
Lotty strained to remember. “I—I’m not sure I do, Nautica—ah!”
Nautica, her arms wrapped gently around Lotty’s waist, traced slow circles around Lotty’s entrance with one finger as she spoke softly into her audial. “Yes, you do. Think. Is it chronic or acute?”
“Um,” Lotty breathed. “Acute? I think?”
Nautica’s finger brushed over her node. “That’s right, good job!” If there was the slightest trace of anything except genuine encouragement and joy in the words, Lotty couldn’t detect it.
She tried to let herself melt a little bit into the pressure of Nautica’s finger against her node, but almost as soon as it was there, it was gone.
“But keep thinking it through,” Nautica said. “If it’s an acute issue, then does it make sense to have weekly injections?”
“N-no, I guess not—”
A squeeze, gentle pressure, Nautica’s thumb and forefinger wrapped around Lotty’s spike.
“What’s the rule about guessing?” Nautica chided.
“I—”
Nautica’s hand slid up perhaps a finger’s width, then back down. “You know it, Lotty. Come on. What’s the rule?”
“‘Don’t guess. Think,’” Lotty quoted back.
Nautica went back to tracing those tantalizingly slow circles. “Good. Follow that rule.”
Lotty tried. She really did. It was just—it was hard to make herself focus sometimes. Thinking was hard. It was . . . it was like trying to push the wrong sides of two magnets together, or trying to tie up a party balloon filled with water without spilling a single drop, trying to get her mind to stay focused when it wanted to just give up and guess. It was exceedingly uncomfortable, bordering on physically painful.
But for Nautica, who was sitting with her, patiently, hour after hour, helping her study, helping her learn, making the whole process bearable—for Nautica, she could try.
For a long, silent moment, Nautica traced her circles and Lotty thought.
“Okay,” Lotty finally said. “Daily injections . . .”
“Mhm,” Nautica hummed, leaving off from the circles long enough to trace her finger slowly up and down the front of Lotty’s spike, then resuming them as though she had never stopped.
“. . . and . . . let’s see . . . ardens means ‘burning,’ so—wait!” Lotty exclaimed. “This is the one that takes the special coolant!”
“Good, now keep going,” Nautica said. She slipped one finger into Lotty’s valve and held it there, shifting it back and forth in barely-perceptible little pulses.
Lotty was no longer certain whether Nautica’s “encouragement” was more motivating than it was distracting, but she wasn’t going to complain, and she certainly wasn’t going to give Nautica any reason to stop. “If the patient—oh, yes, please, that feels amazing—if the patient shows signs of improvement after a week, keep treating until symptoms fully abate.”
Nautica started running her finger slowly in and out of Lotty’s valve. Lotty could feel (and, somewhat embarrassingly, hear) that she was leaving that finger . . . rather well-lubricated.
“And if the patient doesn’t show signs of improvement?” Nautica asked. She added a second finger.
“Then, um, it could be a sign of a more serious underlying issue, so it’s important to—oh, Primus—test for—ah!—any signs of corrosion not localized to the initial site—”
“Good,” Nautica said. “Perfect! That’s five in a row! Time for a break?”
She wrapped her other hand around Lotty’s spike and put it to work.
“Uh, y-yeah,” Lotty said.
There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of Nautica’s fingers in her valve, during which Lotty did not do very much thinking at all.
Nautica’s voice broke it. “‘Thank you, Nautica.’” Her tone was gently reproachful.
“Huh?” Lotty said.
“You forgot to say it, so I’m reminding you.” Lotty could hear the smile in Nautica’s voice. Nautica’s hands kept moving. Both of them. “‘Thank you for studying with me, Nautica! You’re such a good friend, Nautica!’”
Nautica pulled herself closer. Lotty heard a soft hiss, then felt something solid and heavy press against her lower back. Her optics widened.
“‘In fact,’” Nautica continued in her mock-Lotty voice, “‘I appreciate your help so much that during our little break, I’m going to suck you off again, just to make sure you don’t get bored.’”
“Oh. Um. Y-yeah, I—again?” Lotty stammered. “It hasn’t even been half an hour! I mean, not that I’m complaining, but . . .”
Nautica gave Lotty’s spike a little squeeze. “What can I say? I’ve got great stamina.”
Lotty’s optics fluttered shut for a beat. Nautica giggled in her audial, and then kept right up with those hands of hers. Lotty, slowly losing her mind, ground her back against Nautica’s spike. Nautica returned the gesture with an appreciative murmur.
“So, what do you say, Lotty?” Her voice was sultry. “Want another go?”
Lotty’s mouth was suddenly producing an entirely unreasonable amount of oral lubricant. She tried her best not to actually drool.
Want another go?
Did she ever.
* * *
Nautica’s hands were always so gentle. Even now, when she held Lotty’s head in close to her array by the fore-fins of Lotty’s crest, her touch was calming. Reassuring.
“That’s it, Lotty. Just like that,” Nautica hummed.
Lotty kept her tongue moving over Nautica’s spike, not quite putting it in her mouth just yet, but planting soft kisses up and down its length. She kept her hands wrapped around its base, and let Nautica’s gentle grip guide her wherever Nautica wanted her to go. She took in the hums, the quiet moans, the occasional gasps of pleasure, felt each little twitch and throb, felt the warm weight of Nautica’s spike on her tongue. She looked up at her, imploringly, trying to ask with her expression—
“Yes, Lotty,” Nautica said, answering the question despite Lotty’s not having spoken a word of it aloud. “You’re doing a great job.” She slid one hand down Lotty’s face in a gentle caress, ending with her fingers cupping Lotty’s chin. “Now how would you like to wrap those pretty lips of yours around my spike?”
Lotty didn’t need to be asked twice.
The next few minutes were filled with soft, warm, increasingly desperate touches, quiet, involuntary, pleasured moans, and the taste of Nautica in Lotty’s mouth. Nautica’s hands held to Lotty’s crest, occasionally traced down the contours of her face, and once wrapped around the back of her head to hold Lotty deep on her spike for a few achingly full moments.
Lotty dialed up the sensitivity of the tactile receptors on her hands, head, and mouth. There were . . . there were differences between the way a mech’s body reacted to someone touching its interface array as opposed to anywhere else, but a lot of it just came down to the difference in the intensity of the sensations. With practice, one could learn to adjust the way one perceived touch to increase that intensity for other select parts of one’s frame.
And Lotty . . . Lotty had practiced. Not just for this purpose—dialing up one’s sensitivity was also supposed to be helpful when attempting to perform extremely delicate surgeries. Apparently all the best medics learned to do it, to some extent or another, consciously or not. So Lotty had also learned to do it for that reason.
But if she was being honest with herself, the thing which had kept her motivated, kept her trying over and over again, focusing on the process until controlling the sensitivity of her tactile circuits was as natural as changing forms—it was this.
—every ridge of Nautica’s spike pressed acutely on her tongue—
Lotty let herself get lost in the sensations.
—Nautica’s fingers, somehow still gentle, even when Lotty could feel every breath of air as it moved past—
Primus, but it felt amazing.
—her own hands, grasping at Nautica’s spike, Nautica’s thighs, Nautica’s hips—
Nautica began to gently rock her hips, pressing her spike further into Lotty’s throat. Lotty responded by taking it all the way to the base with each little thrust. She let Nautica show Lotty what she wanted, but tried to make sure she didn’t have to work to get it. She felt for Nautica’s every slight movement, listened for her every soft exhalation, tried to give her exactly what she wanted just a half-moment before she wanted it. And based on Nautica’s reactions, she was doing a real bang-up job.
Murmurs, whispers, gasps, and soft cries came in a steady flow from Nautica’s lips, and each praised Lotty for her work—Lotty was making Nautica feel amazing, and Nautica was making sure Lotty knew it. Lotty kept earning the praise and loving every second of the process.
—for once, a sharper grip on the fins of Lotty’s crest; Lotty couldn’t hold in an indulgent moan; Nautica’s spike throbbed in response—
“Yes, yes—oh, fuck, Lotty—”
—a slight—no, a nigh-imperceptible shift in the tension of Nautica’s lateral hydraulics; Lotty could feel it beneath her hip plating, clear as day—
“Wow, oh—oh fuck, Lotty, you’re amazing—”
—Lotty let her hands roam over every part of Nautica she could reach, felt her dorsal actuators pulse, her solenoids ripple—
“Ahh, oh, Primus, Lotty, I think I’m gonna—”
—Nautica pulling Lotty down on her spike, pumping her full; Nautica’s spike throbbing so intensely in the back of Lotty’s throat that Lotty saw sparks; Lotty’s chin pressed against Nautica’s node; both of them letting out pleasured moans which could only be described as positively shameless—
* * *
Lotty blinked out of the haze, dialed back down her sensors, and enjoyed the feeling of Nautica’s spike still twitching against her cheek. That had been . . . amazing. And she was a mess. She smirked to herself. She’d have to take a few minutes in the washracks to clean up before they got back to studying. Bit of a shame she hadn’t quite overloaded when Nautica had, but such was life.
She started to pull herself away from Nautica’s array, to climb up off her knees. By the time Lotty had stood up, Nautica had fallen fully back onto Lotty’s recharge slab. Her optics were shuttered, and her expression was a bit dazed. Impressively, her spike seemed not to have received the memo about her recent overload—it looked ready for round . . . five? Lotty ran through the past few hours in her mind. Yep, five. She smiled, shook her head, and turned to leave for the washracks.
There was a sudden motion behind her, then Nautica’s hand caught her wrist and held tight. Lotty glanced back over her shoulder, raising an optic ridge. Nautica had propped herself up on one elbow and was giving Lotty a downright lascivious look.
Lotty waited, but Nautica didn’t speak. Just looked Lotty’s frame up and down.
Her spike twitched.
Lotty didn’t need to be asked twice.
* * *
Lotty straddled Nautica’s frame, her valve wrapped around Nautica’s spike, and worked her hips gently. That was all it took, right now, to get Nautica to arch into her, to feel her spike throb, her hands run up and down Lotty’s sides, frequently stopping to grip at her hip plating—all it took to give Nautica exactly what she wanted.
Nautica’s half-shuttered optics traced their way up and down Lotty’s frame as she rode, and Lotty basked in her careful focus. She seemed to be taking in every detail of Lotty’s body, following every seam of her plating, noting every ripple of her actuators. Appreciating everything she saw. Lotty didn’t think it could have been more intimate had Nautica chosen to employ her tongue rather than her eyes for the endeavor.
The whole time, Lotty rocked her hips, soaking in the pleasurable sensation of Nautica’s spike pressing against her ceiling node. She held her hands and arms up behind her head, stretching them this way and that as she rode, baring her frame to Nautica’s gaze as best she could. She bit at her lower lip, made sure every ounce of the pleasure she was feeling showed on her face, and tried to move with a desparate—needy—if subdued energy. Because if Nautica was going to look at her like that, then by Primus, she’d put on a show worthy of the attention.
“Faster, Lotty,” Nautica breathed.
They were the first two words she’d spoken since her overload.
Lotty obliged. She moved more quickly, grinding against Nautica’s array with just the slightest bit more intensity, still, all the while, keeping Nautica’s spike pressed firmly against her ceiling node—until Nautica, ever so gently, took Lotty’s hips in her hands and began to guide Lotty up and down her spike.
Again, Lotty obliged. And it was divine.
Nautica began to roll her own hips in time with Lotty’s, deepening each thrust, making each withdrawal more tantalizing.
“Oh, fuck yes, Lotty—” she began, and then her voice dissolved into a wordless pleasured moan, which throbbed, gently, in time with their motions and her spike. Lotty took that as the best possible compliment and kept up the good work.
Lotty’s own spike twitched and throbbed in the air, desperate for attention, but Lotty didn’t care. This wasn’t about Lotty. It was about Nautica—about making her feel amazing. Yes, to thank her for all the time she spent helping Lotty with her studies, of course. At least, a little bit. But mostly because Primus, it felt so good to just cut loose and leave herself behind and focus so completely on giving Nautica what she wanted—what she needed—and be rewarded with image after image of her friend’s face, awash with ecstasy, just appreciating everything Lotty was doing for her. The experience was intoxicating, and her aching spike’s complaints only served to remind her of her place in it. So she didn’t mind them one bit.
Of course, she also didn’t mind when Nautica slid one of her hands from Lotty’s waist to her spike and let Lotty rut into it as she rode. Her touch was light—almost too light. It left Lotty desperately craving more, even as Nautica drew her grip up over the head of Lotty’s spike with each stroke, sending Lotty into a shuddering, valve-convulsing spasm of sensation each time she did. Nautica played Lotty’s spike with a precise touch, tugging Lotty ever further into the intimate sensation of the moment while keeping her carefully back from the edge of release.
Lotty wanted more, but denied herself. She kept her own hands away from her spike, kept stretching and posing her frame as she rode. This was Nautica’s show, and Nautica wanted her to have precisely this much stimulation. The thought made her throb into Nautica’s hand, which in turn informed Nautica to loosen her grip for the next few strokes. Lotty, it seemed, would not be finishing early tonight.
Fine by her. Didn’t seem like Nautica was planning to be all that long anyway.
Each rolling thrust became more intense, more pleasurable, deeper (if that was possible), and more indulgent. Even Nautica’s perfectly controlled, perfectly gentle hands started to find a more vicious purchase in the seams of Lotty’s plating, around Lotty’s spike. Lotty could feel it; Nautica was getting close. Again.
Lotty let herself be caught up in the moment—let her motions be driven to a frenzy by Nautica’s waxing abandon. She slammed her hands down on Nautica’s shoulders, pinning Nautica to the slab and eliciting another gratifying gasp of pleasure. Nautica’s hand left Lotty’s spike and joined its counterpart at Lotty’s waist as Nautica ceased so much as pretending to do anything other than bounce Lotty up and down her spike.
And the moment crept closer. Lotty could feel it. She could feel the way the universe fell away and left them—just the two of them—alone at its center, in the only place that mattered. She could feel the pleasure as it wracked her friend’s body, sending ripples through her actuators, energetic pulses along her biolights, waves of warmth through her frame. She could feel the sheer intensity of sensation as her own tight valve slid around a throbbing, needy spike. And she could feel when that spike was pushed over the edge.
Nautica slammed her hips up between Lotty’s legs and broke rhythm with a series of slower, positively wrenching thrusts. Her spike’s twitching and throbbing became a rushing, pulsing feeling as Lotty’s valve suddenly went from ‘full’ to ‘overflowing.’ Lotty lost control.
Her valve convulsed and took her body along for the ride. Her spike, madly throbbing, shot her spend across Nautica’s midsection and chest. She knew she was crying out in what was likely rather embarrassing fashion at the pleasure of it all, but she couldn’t really find it in herself to care, especially since Nautica was making similarly undignified noises.
Lotty collapsed over Nautica, into her arms, utterly unconcerned about the mess it made of her plating. She held Nautica inside her, squeezed her shaft with her valve, felt her thrusts coming slower and slower, felt both their spikes twitching, making even more of a mess of both of them. She buried her face in Nautica’s neck and felt the warmth of her frame, the steadiness of her arms.
They rode out the remainder of the overload there, like that, together.
EPILOGUE
Many Cycles Later
Lotty was going to do it this time. She was. She was sure of it. Even if the clean, mostly-empty room was giving her flashbacks to her stress dreams. Even if the very thought of reading through the test instructions one more time made her want to throw up. She’d do it. She would. For sure.
Datapads were handed out, face down. Instructions were read. Lotty didn’t barf.
And then, sooner than she really knew what to do with, it was time. The proctor wished them luck. Lotty turned over the datapad and read the first question.
Describe the symptoms of and treatment most appropriate for a common case of Corrosio Ardens.
Lotty just sat and stared at the words for a moment. She uncrossed her legs under the table. Recrossed them the other way. Reset her optics once or twice. Then, suppressing a chuckle, she flexed her fingers, picked up her stylus, and began to mark down her answer.