Originally posted anonymously here: http://community.livejournal.com/tfanonkink/603.html?thread=1081947#t1081947
Title: Size Doesn't Matter, Except When It Does
Author: Moonbeam's Predilections
Genre: Transformers G1 -- Kink fic
Word Count: 8,127 (main story), 2,142 (bonus chapter), 10,269 words total
Most Cybertronians have both a spike and a valve, but an unlucky few are only either/or. Rumble formatted as spike-only; Starscream as valve-only. Both suffer disadvantages that often lead to them avoiding interface in favour of self-service. Then Rumble discovers Starscream's similar but opposite problem, and decides to put two and two together to their mutual satisfaction. Sticky, obviously!
Size Doesn't Matter, Except When It Does
“Stupid Frenzy, with his stupid ideas and stupid sense of humour, never learned how to knock... S’not my fault I was sparked this way!”
The irritated, nearly sub-vocal mutter was accompanied by the petulant kick of a small blue foot at the wall of the deserted corridor of the Nemesis. It was deep into the recharge cycle and most of the ‘Cons were off-duty, locked away in their quarters having a much better time than one particular disgruntled Cassetticon.
Still angry and, unfortunately, with unrelieved arousal still simmering beneath his armour, Rumble sulked down the hallway. “Shoulda kicked his aft, is what I shoulda done. Oughta know better than to interrupt me – do I bug him when he’s off ‘facing some afthead? Okay, sure, there was that one time I walked in on him and Dropshot, but that was totally not my fault! Shoulda locked the door if the stupid fragger didn’t want an audience.” After all, it wasn’t like his fellow Cassettes didn’t know about his situation, they should all know better by now.
Rumble rubbed a hand down his chest, trying to dispel the built-up charge in his circuits from having his ‘private time’ cut short by his Unicron-spawned twin. It wasn’t easy being formatted the way he was, Rumble had long since discovered. There weren’t many mechs he could talk into interfacing with him, and the few he could would usually just try him the once before saying ‘never again’. Wasn’t his fault his screwed-up formatting meant he had a lot more staying power than most could handle; it just took him a little longer to reach overload than the average mech. Unfortunately that meant he often had to take his pleasure into his own hands if he ever wanted any relief, and that only worked as long as his siblings left him the frag alone long enough to get off. Primus-damned Frenzy and his pit-slagging timing!
Distracted as he was with his personal troubles, he didn’t notice the sound of fast-paced pedes coming his way until he was almost stepped on by the larger ‘Con hurrying down the corridor.
“Hey!” he yelled, “watch where you’re going, you overgrown glitch!”
The tri-coloured Seeker rushing through the dark corridors barely spared the Cassetticon a reflexive sneer, not even bothering with his usual screeched insults as he carried on to wherever he was going in such a damn hurry.
Being dismissed like that was the last straw. Rumble’s already fragile temper cracked.
“Aw, frag it!” he growled, frustrated with the excess energy burning through his systems and pissed off with everything. He had to work this off somehow, and since overloading was out thanks to his idiot brother, he might as well take the opportunity to get back at the imperious jet who’d nearly flattened him.
Besides, Starscream could always be counted on react well to a prank... if by ‘well’ one meant ‘loudly and with as much violence as possible’. At least it was entertaining!
Finally in a much better mood, Rumble scampered off after the retreating Second-in-Command while lots of lovely little ideas started to scamper through his processor.
Starscream barely noticed the annoying little Cassetticon. He was finally off-shift, having gladly passed the boring monitoring duty on to Soundwave. Now he could have time to himself to solve the small problem his inconsiderate wingmates had left him with.
Skywarp and Thundercracker, the ungrateful little slaggers, had been driving him into distraction his entire shift long. And after Starscream had been so kind as to rearrange the schedule to give the pair the same shift off so they could renew their mating bond, too!
“Stupid slaggers couldn’t even take a moment to block off the trinebond before they got carried away, oh no... have to share every sensation, knowing I can’t even join in. Probably did it on purpose, those annoying frag-heads. Knew I was taking third shift tonight, knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it...!”
Starscream hung a tight left at the end of the corridor, his high-held wings scraping lightly along the walls as he partially cut the corner in his haste. Even that mild discomfort he barely noticed in his worked-up state, too desperate to reach his destination: the little used storage room deep in the Nemesis’ lower levels.
That storage room was his sanctuary. Its distance from the main parts of the ship meant few if any other Decepticons ever came that way, and as far as Starscream knew, Megatron had yet to find him there. He’d even been sure to tighten the room’s security and disable the lone monitoring camera in the small space to ensure his privacy remained private. Unlike his own quarters or even his lab, the storage room was a safe out-of-the-way place he could disappear to whenever he needed a chance to ease the ache in his circuits.
Furtively, still paranoid even in his current condition, Starscream scanned both sides of the corridor. Only when he was reassured he was truly alone did he slip through the unassuming door into his hidden refuge.
Watching from around the corner, safely out of sight of the psycho jet, Rumble grinned as he saw Starscream’s suspicious behaviour. No doubt the traitorous SIC was up to yet another nefarious plot to overthrow their Leader and try to take control of the Decepticons. It was destined to fail, surely, but maybe if Rumble discovered what it was he could gain more favour with Lord Megatron.
Cheered by the thought, Rumble decided to give Starscream a few breems to get involved in whatever scheme he was up to before he burst in and busted him. He waited the few minutes in impatience, debating with himself whether or not he should he contact the Boss or just take on the Seeker himself. Rumble was certainly fired up enough that he felt like he could take on the entire Autobot army himself, but... hmmm, null rays. One shot and revved up system or not, he’d still be out of the game. Might be a good idea to at least let someone know his plans in case he wound up chucked out an airlock into the ocean.
It took a little longer to hack an override code into the door’s locking system, especially without triggering any of the backup alarms the paranoid scientist had programmed in. Rumble made a mental note to warn Frenzy that Starscream seemed to have changed his passwords again (ha! on second thought, let the glitch find out on his own, he thought vindictively) as he finally heard the tinny click of the lock disengaging. He was just about to send out a telepathic ping of his location when he pushed open the door and all thought died in his processor.
Starscream was... was... Primus, Starscream was hot!
Sprawled across some storage crates in the tiny room, the Seeker’s wide wings bracketed the opposite corner from the door leaving Starscream facing a mesmerized Rumble. Not that Starscream noticed, as the darkened optics proved he was definitely lost in his... task.
One light-blue heel was bent up against a low-slung crate, while the other stretched out along the floor. The position gave Rumble a clear view of the busy hands working away at the Seeker’s body. Slim claw-tips of one hand trailed delicately along the seams of the amber cockpit, teasingly brushing over nodes Rumble could tell were sensitive as the jet’s wings quivered with each touch. The other hand, which had been curled into one of Starscream’s shoulder vents, slid free with a quiet rasp as Starscream moved to caress his own neck cables.
A sympathetic hiss escaped Rumble’s vocalizer but was thankfully covered up by Starscream’s own much louder moan as those fragile cables were expertly manipulated. Rumble’s systems, never having really cooled from his own aborted attempt at self-interface, were heating up again quickly. His internal fans kicked on quietly as the remaining charge in his circuits began to build again.
Trembling minutely, Starscream’s fingers left his neck to drift gracefully down his torso, dipping into cracks and seams along the way to scratch lightly at his own internal wiring. His other hand was by then buried in his retracted cockpit, stroking and smoothing over the sensitive controls within. Rumble felt his core temperature rising in time with each stroke of those lovely, lethal blue digits.
Rumble’s control was stretched thin, but when Starscream’s wandering hand finally gravitated down to the interface housing between the Seeker’s legs, it nearly broke. His own hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he watched those teasing fingers trace maddeningly over the twitching panel. He wasn’t even aware of the silent pleas filling his thoughts as he wished for that panel to slide open.
His wish was granted in the next moment. Quivering helplessly, Rumble stared as the panel hiding Starscream’s interface hardware slowly began to retract. Starscream’s hand momentarily disrupted his view as the Seeker squeezed his own fingers into the slowly widening space before the panel had even finished pulling away. Groaning madly, twitching wings scraping against both walls that made up the corner – and evidently arousing Starscream even more, if the short shriek he released was anything to go by – Starscream’s panel finally tucked itself away.
If the scene that met his optics upon first walking into the room had stunned him, what he saw now was enough to break his paralysis. Starscream’s light-blue fingers were running lightly in tiny circles, skimming over and around a valve already glistening with coolant, barely pressing a claw-tip into the valve’s tight moist opening. A valve that, while Rumble was certainly no expert on Seeker physiology, looked a little small for a mech Starscream’s size.
And what he couldn’t see was just as startling as what he could.
Starscream had no spike.
Among Cybertronians, both spike and valve were the usual interfacing hardware for both mechs and femmes. Only a small few, like Rumble himself – and, obviously, Starscream too – were formatted differently with only one or the other. Rumble had been cursed with only a spike, slightly larger than other mini-cons’ perhaps, but by no means large enough to satisfy an average-sized mech or femme. The lack of a valve also meant the lack of critical sensory nodes with which to aid in overload, making seeking relief a long arduous process that most of Rumble’s previous partners were unable to withstand long enough to satisfy him.
Starscream, it appeared, had the opposite problem.
Created with only a valve and no spike, Starscream’s critical sensory nodes would be tightly clustered and tuned to maximise sensitivity as much as possible. For Starscream, interfacing with someone of even standard hardware would be a challenging proposition. Even an average-sized spike might be too much for the jet to accept without feeling some discomfort, and a larger spike might almost cause damage to the fragile mesh of his valve. Starscream must suffer similar circumstances as Rumble when it came to finding an acceptable interface partner, leaving the Seeker to seek self-release if he wanted any at all.
All this passed through Rumble’s central processor in astroseconds, and then his logic algorithms came up with a brilliant idea. Unfortunately, they neglected to run the idea past his threat assessment subroutines before passing it straight down to his vocalizer.
“I might be able to help you with that.”
Now, Rumble was used to his mouth getting him into trouble as he had a tendency to speak without thought to the consequences (read: gleefully taunt mechs much larger, and often better armed, than himself), but even he was unprepared for the speed with which Starscream snapped to awareness. The Seeker’s optic flared bright as lasers as his targeting system locked on to the intruder in his safe domain, hands whipping away from his chassis to bring his null rays to bear right at Rumble’s spark. The whine of the powerful weapons charging echoed in the sudden silence.
“You...!” Starscream screeched. “How dare you...!”
Rumble froze, backpedalling a step before he could help himself. “Wait! I didn’t mean to...”
Starscream’s optics narrowed into a scornful glare.
“Okay, so I did,” Rumble shrugged, a little ruefully, since there was no real way to excuse his presence in Starscream’s little love nest after all, “but before you start shooting, you might want to hear me out. I have a rather... stimulating... proposition for you.”
Starscream pulled his leg down off the crate it was braced against, pushing himself up into a sitting position and incidentally closing off line of sight to his still open, needy valve. A slight grimace of discomfort crossed his features before he settled into sneering indifference.
“I’m quite sure you don’t have anything I want, you little fool, so give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip you into pieces and send you back to the fragging slag-heap you came from!”
Rumble ducked his head and let a sly leer slant his mouth as he stepped boldly up to the agitated Seeker. “Really?” he rumbled, voice deepening to a purr as he reach out with one hand to caress along the nearest heel thruster. “You sure about that? Because I couldn’t help noticing while I was watching the very nice show you put on–”
Starscream growled, lips peeled back over his clenched denta.
“–that you seem to be equipped with only a valve for interfacing hardware.” Rumble continued, sly smirk widening as he felt the minute tremors running through the metal he was petting. “And I just thought that it was a shame you should have turn to servicing yourself when there was another option available.”
And before the furious jet could open his mouth to let loose a string of what was sure to be vile invectives, Rumble unlatched his own interface panel. He’d already been somewhat aroused before he’d even seen Starscream, and had only become more so as he’d watch the jet self-interface. The pressure within his panel had begun to become uncomfortable. He loosed a hiss of relief as his fully extended spike rose out into the air in front of the larger mech.
Starscream’s optics dropped to the source of the sudden motion. Rumble had to give his superior credit, the jet’s face never revealed the abrupt interest Rumble could feel in the Second-in-Command’s fluctuating energy fields.
“You’re formatted as spike-only,” Starscream remarked, voice emotionless as if he were merely making a scientific notation. “Spike-only formats tend to take longer to reach overload due to the lack of sensory node clusters, which is frustrating and exhausting to the average Cybertronian.”
“But you’re not an ‘average’ Cybertronian, are you? Valve-only formats can have multiple overloads before exhausting themselves. They just gotta find a partner whose spike is small enough not to hurt ‘em first.”
The Seeker’s arm-mounted weapons gradually lowered as Starscream contemplated the Cassetticon before him. He angled his head like an organic bird as he judged the size of the mini-con’s spike, legs shifting apart slightly as he weighed the potential benefits and disadvantages before making his decision.
“Fine,” Starscream acquiesced, lying back to recline regally upon the crates once more, “but you’d better be able to satisfy me thoroughly. You won’t like the consequences of wasting my time if you can’t make this worth my while,” he warned.
Rumble grinned cockily. “Don’t worry, ‘Screamer, you won’t be disappointed.”
“We’ll see, rodent,” Starscream sneered, “and don’t call me ‘Scream–”
Rumble stepped forward, shoved the Seeker’s white knees further apart, and slowly sank his spike into Starscream’s tantalising valve.
“Oooh, Primus...” Starscream shuddered as the dark blue Cassetticon’s small spike slid smoothly into his long-neglected valve, pressing just perfectly against the sensory nodes lining its lubricated walls.
“I think,” Rumble groaned, as Starscream’s valve flexed deliciously over his spike, “that this might be the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Starscream’s back arched as Rumble’s spike buried itself in to the hilt, the pressure within his valve just the right amount to fill him without causing any pain at all. The heated frame of the smaller ‘Con pressed close up against the warm metal of his pelvis and inner thighs just added extra depth to the sensations.
“Oh yeah,” Rumble laughed lightly, a slight tenseness to his frame the only sign of the strain he was feeling by entering the Seeker as slowly as he did, “you’re gonna enjoy this.”
Lithe body twisting in a way that looked almost painful, the larger mech bent down to look the smaller one in the optic, an arrogant smirk gracing his face.
It was a challenge that Rumble was only too glad to accept.
He started off slow, trying to remember what he’d seen Starscream do to himself. While his hips began to move, moving his spike in gentle shallow thrusts, he stretched his arms up to run his hands along all the places he could reach. Starscream watched him impassively, not reacting beyond a barely-there shiver of his wings as the blue Cassetticon explored.
“Well?” Starscream gave him no quarter. “I’m waiting to be impressed.”
Undeterred, Rumble dove one hand into the jet’s open cockpit to grip his steering column while the other dug cruelly into the wiring beneath the jet’s armour. Scratching and squeezing the sensitive cables, the Cassetticon pulled back his hips to slam hard, once, twice, three times deep into the Seeker’s valve.
Starscream shrieked, shuddering violently as sensory nodes that had only been lightly teased up until this point were suddenly barraged with sharp pressure. The contrast did him in and though he tried to hold off, he could not escape the quick overload that crashed through his systems. It wasn’t particularly powerful, too weak to even cause aftershocks and didn’t give him any sense of relief but when it was over he was more sensitized than ever and only wanted more.
Not that he was going to let Rumble know that. “Doesn’t count,” he rasped to the smug Cassetticon. “I’d already worked myself up to the point where I was near to overloading before you shoved your aft into my business, so you can’t take the credit for that one.”
Rumble snickered, both at the complaint and at the way it was worded. “No problem, ‘Screamer. Me and my aft ain’t done yet.” He went back to the long slow glide, his hips adding a little wriggle every few dozen strokes just to keep the tetchy Seeker guessing.
“Better not be,” Starscream mumbled, relaxing back into the crates as Rumble worked him gently.
Rumble snorted. “Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you?” he said sarcastically, but moved closer to follow the jet and didn’t stop his rhythm.
“Mmm, why shouldn’t I?” Starscream’s voice, softened with pleasure, was much less high and grating than normal. It was almost – almost – pleasant to hear. “You’re the one that offered to service me, I see no reason why I should have to do any of the work.”
Despite that, Starscream did consent to begin languidly rolling his pelvis into each of Rumble’s deep, gentle thrusts. He even curled his legs around the smaller ‘Con, trapping the Cassette in the circle of his lower body. His pedes came to rest up against Rumble’s back, rubbing enticingly against the mini’s armour and causing little shocks of static to spark deliciously off his energy fields. Rumble enjoyed that, his steady pace stuttering a bit with every little jolt.
Smiling in gratification, wings fluttering against the crates beneath him in echo of every little jolt, Starscream wriggled in delight. “Like that, do you?” he purred. “I should have known I’d have to take care of things on my own if I wanted results. Can’t expect a half-clocked drone like you to know how to please a mech of such high calibre as myself.”
The delectable thrusts stopped as Rumble glared. “If I’m boring you ‘Screamer, you just had to say so. Wouldn’t wanna waste your valuable time.” He started to pull back.
Starsceam’s legs tightened, locking him in place. “Perhaps,” the jet allowed, “you just need some guidance in how to service a mech such as I. I would be happy – even consider it a duty as your commanding officer – to share my brilliance and exceptional talent with you in this manner.”
Pompous little... The Cassetticon rolled his optics. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose, sir.”
“Nonsense! I think all you need is a little... encouragement.” Starscream’s expression turned feral as his thrusters powered up behind Rumble’s back. The Cassette flinched.
His alarm was unnecessary. Starscream had no intention of firing his thrusters and risking damage to the mini-con, no matter how much he’d threatened to eliminate the little slagger in the past. Instead, the increasing heat and vibration from the engaged thrusters spread from the jet’s heels directly to Rumble’s backplates, stirring every wire and node it touched along the way. Shuddering hard, Rumble’s optics offlined briefly as he pressed back into the feeling.
“See?” Starscream laughed mockingly, keeping up the assault on Rumble’s senses. “Now if only you could make my valve feel that way, we wouldn’t have a problem.”
Rumble fought to regain control, a task made easier by his unique formatting. Sometimes it was actually a blessing to have fewer sensory nodes than the average mech. The prolonged endurance could come in handy at times, especially for turning a certain Seeker’s own trick against him.
Gathering the energy permeating through his body in the recording module of his chest, the Cassetticon redirected the jet’s own vibrations down through his frame and into his spike.
“How’s that make your slaggin’ valve feel?” he taunted.
Starscream didn’t answer; he was too busy riding the wave of overload that shot through his body from his besieged valve.
The Cassette did not let up, continuing to drive his spike harshly into the twitching Seeker even as Starscream recovered.
“Oh, frag,” Starscream moaned, returning to awareness to find the mini-con still at it between his thighs. “That’s sooo good. Every sensory node in my body is tingling. Don’t...” he added breathlessly, undulating with aftershocks, “don’t stop.”
Rumble smirked, proud of himself for rupturing the Air Commander’s arrogant demeanor. “Not so disparaging of my ‘facing skills now, are ya?”
“Don’t,” Starscream’s fans whined as his shoulder vents sucked in air, “don’t get cocky. I was merely... unprepared.”
“Ha!” Rumble dragged his spike almost all of the way out, reaching a finger down to trace lewdly around the point of entry. His finger came up wet, dripping with the slippery coolant being produced in droves by Starscream’s craving body. “Your tight little valve sure feels prepared to me. In fact, I think it’s so needy for a good fragging it won’t even mind if I do this–”
He sank his spike in to the hilt in one sharp thrust, causing Starscream to cry out and arch until all his weight was balanced on his wings.
“–or this.” He withdrew completely and then re-entered with agonizing slowness, dragging out every sensation as his spike slid relentlessly across each inflamed node one by aching one.
The whine from Starscream’s vocalizer drowned out the whine from his fans. “Less talk, more 'facing,” he begged.
Maliciously, Rumble slowed his pace even more, twisting his pelvis to force his spike to first press harder against the sensory node clusters on one side of Starsceam’s valve and then the other. “Oh, yeah,” he gloated. “Your slutty little valve is just burning for my spike to drive it wild, isn’t it? How long’s it been since you’ve had a partner who could ‘face you and make you enjoy it, ‘Screamer? How long’s it been since you’ve had a spike as good as mine, as perfect as mine, pressing deep inside you? Filling you just right, never too much or too little? Able to do anything to you and leave your valve drooling for more?”
Far from protesting the hot filthy words being spoken erotically into the air, Starscream reached down with both hands to the mech pleasuring him so exquisitely. One hand curled around Rumble’s helm, fingers stroking along the protective armour plating and little visor covering the mini-con’s optics. The other wrapped around the Cassette’s back, helping to pull the Cassetticon in harder to his body.
Rumble gave in for a while, graciously allowing the Seeker to set the pace. He moved with the hand guiding him and reached up to take the other off of his head. Bringing that hand down to his face, he examined it carefully. The contrast was what he noticed first, not just in size (although surprisingly, Starscream’s hand wasn’t all that much bigger than his own – certainly smaller than other Decepticons like Soundwave) but the Seeker’s lighter blue aquamarine colouring almost made his own look purplish in comparison.
He separated one of the long slender digits, staring at it contemplatively for a moment before suddenly sucking it into his mouth. His glossa traced the outline of a claw that could tear through an average Cybertronian’s armour with ease.
Starscream’s optics locked on his face.
Rumble popped the digit out of his mouth. “Hmm, did you want something, Starscream?” he asked innocently.
The fingers held in his hand twitched. He readjusted his hold to grip the arm around the wrist, preventing the larger mech from pulling it away. “Can I help you with something?” He tweaked the delicate network of internal wiring exposed by the gaps in the jet’s armour along his wrist joint.
Starscream flinched, other hand leaving Rumble’s back to extract the ticklish appendage from the brat’s dangerous grasp.
Rumble smiled widely, glossa darting out one more time to swipe wetly across the sensitive fingers of the retreating hands.
Starscream huffed. “If I’d wanted to be teased,” he remonstrated mildly, “I’d have sought out my wingmates.”
Rumble cocked his head, looking up at the grey face curiously. His hips stilled without him noticing, but a squeeze from Starscream’s crossed legs got him moving again. He pet along the white thighs in apology.
“That what you usually do? ‘Face with other Seekers to get off? Are their spikes small enough for you to take?”
“Seekers do tend to have slightly smaller interface hardware than other Cybertronian builds, it’s true, but only because our frames have to be lighter than a groundling’s in order to give us mastery in the air. But no,” Starscream explained, “I don’t usually let my wingmates ‘face me because even their spikes are too large to be entirely comfortable.”
“But you do frag around with them?” Rumble looked confused. “So how do they...?”
Starscream leered, flicking one of his fingers against Rumble’s lips teasingly. “Their glossa, Rumble. They use their glossa to drive me into overload.”
“Really?” Rumble said. “That’s very interesting. I’ve heard of mechs and femmes using it as foreplay, but not many who can come from it alone. A mouth doesn’t tend to do much for me personally, though.”
Starscream flashed him something that could pass for a look of pity before it was ruined by his more typical sneer. “Of course, someone of your formatting wouldn’t have enough sensory nodes in your spike to properly appreciate the sublime experience. Poor thing, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Rumble nodded agreeably, not offended. “Probably. I’d bet you do though,” he continued, casually. “You’ve got so many sensors it must be overwhelming. I bet you like it so much it breaks through all that sneering arrogant pride and turns you into a begging wanting whore.”
He ignored the flare of panic on the jet’s face and pulled away completely before Starscream could clamp tight with his calves and lock him in place. “Shall we find out?” he said brightly, and ducked down.
Starscream tried to stop him, tried to squeeze his legs together, but the smaller ‘Con evaded his grasp. The Seeker babbled an instinctive mix of pleads and insults as the Cassette held him open and vulnerable. They didn’t work any better on Rumble than they usually did on Megatron. Then Rumble got his mouth on Starscream’s valve, and it was all over but the screaming.
Starscream howled. Head thrown back, he keened his pleasure to the ceiling as Rumble’s lips and glossa tormented him.
Rumble was not particularly experienced at performing this act, but with Starscream’s hypersensitivity it was not difficult to learn. Every sweep or dart of his glossa over the Seeker’s node clusters wrenched a cry from the suddenly vocal jet, a nibble from his lips made him quake, and once (accidentally) Rumble discovered that a scrape of his denta on the edges of the sensitive entrance made Starscream shriek his praise to Primus.
In no time at all Rumble had reduced the usually overconfident Second-in-Command into a quivering wreck, a constant stream of incoherent babble filling the air. Rumble ignored the noise, freely experimenting with different combinations of flicks and swishes of his glossa over Starscream’s leaking valve. He used the rising and falling pitch of the jet’s high voice as a marker, being sure to commit to his memory files any move that brought the greatest results. Those would probably work on even an average mech or femme’s less-sensitive valve and might come in handy for him the next time he tried to convince someone to let him interface with them.
Rumble was beginning to enjoy himself, enjoying the rush of power he felt over the much larger mech. The taste wasn’t half bad either, cool and flavourful on his glossa. He could definitely see the appeal in ‘facing a partner this way and resolved to do it again at the next opportunity. He hummed happily as his dug his glossa in deep, stroking the slick walls before withdrawing to lap at the outer edges.
The vibrations from the hum must have been especially pleasurable, as the pitch and tone of Starscream’s cries broke from the rhythm they’d fallen into. The change in background noise also broke Rumble from his meditative trance. His auditory receptors finally tuned themselves to recognise the actual words pouring from the Seeker’s mouth.
“Ooooh, so good... there, oh, there! deeper, more, again, again, again...! Mmmm, unh, so close! Aaah!... more, need more... need... oooh, wings, my wings.... do my wings too... oh, is good, feels fantastic, but my wings! Wings are aching, need more... always get my wings done at the same time...s’not enough on its own, so good, so close, but. Not. Eee-nough!”
At those final words, voice gone from a near whisper to near shout, Starscream grabbed for one of Rumble’s hands holding his thighs open and tried to pull it up his body. Rumble gave a cry of protest as his arm was nearly ripped out its socket.
“Hey! What’s that for?!”
Starscream tugged again. “My wings, do my wings too...”
The Cassette pulled his arm free, tucking it close to his chest protectively. “Do it yourself, you big lug. ‘Sides, can’t you see I’m busy?” And he ducked down to pick up from where he’d left off, working a finger from the offended hand into Starscream’s wet valve alongside his own glossa.
Starscream went wild, there was no other word for it. Loosing a glass-breaking shriek, the jet wrenched himself away from the mini-con. Wasting no time, he pushed Rumble back roughly, slid off the crates to his knees, and proceeded to twist himself around completely. Once he knelt facing the piles of crates, he threw his chest down upon them, angled his pelvis upwards to raise his aft, arched his wings back towards the floor, and spread his knees to display his empty valve.
“Well?” he jerked his head around to glare at the stunned mini-con. “What are you waiting for?”
Rumble immediately snapped out of it and got back with the program. Aiming his spike, he re-entered the Seeker from the new position and stretched out along the larger mech’s back. Starscream’s wings fluttered hopefully just beneath his hands.
The dark blue Cassetticon couldn’t help smirking. “Slut. Primus, you’d do anything for this, wouldn’t you? You have any idea how hot it was watching you turn and present yourself for me? All so that I could do this?” He trailed his fingers lightly out from the jet’s backstruts to his wingtips, barely brushing along the warm metal.
Starscream moaned, raising his head from the pillow of his arms to level a gimlet optic on the Cassette. “If you tell anyone, I’ll rip off your spike and stab you to death with it,” he threatened placidly. “Now, stop playing around and get back to work ‘facing me. You promised to satisfy me and you aren’t anywhere near done yet. And don’t forget my wings!”
“Nag, nag, nag...” Rumble grumbled, but reached out to fondle the folded-back wings properly. He stroked around their edges in time to the renewed movements of his spike inside the demanding jet’s valve. “Don’t know why I’m bothering. You are such a greedy little bitch, ‘Screamer.”
“That’s exactly why you’re doing this, you idiotic glitch!” Starscream laughed, his naturally high voice deepening into a mockingly seductive tone. “Do you know any other mechs on this ship who could keep up with you? Who could last long enough to see you to your own overload?” He clenched his valve tight around the spike inside him, ripping a cry from Rumble. “Who could have taken you this long already and still be ready for more?”
“Ah, so this interfacing is entirely for my benefit, is it?” Rumble mocked back, pinching the sensitive wingtips between his fingers in rebuke. Starscream just moaned in encouragement, wriggling his wings for more.
“You’re the one who threw yourself at me.” Starscream rocked back on the spike thrusting into him. “You should be honoured that I agreed to allow you the chance to service me at all.”
Rumble snorted, amused despite himself. It was hard to get mad at the arrogant Seeker’s ego when he was arching and moaning so responsively to every move Rumble made. A scratch across the surface of the wide wings made Starscream shake and wail, a rolling thrust of his hips made him shudder and moan. Not to mention how the cool slick glide of the tight valve against his spike felt amazing, especially in counterpoint to the heat radiating from both their frames. Rumble’s arousal had been rising all along and he was beginning to feel the sparks of energy in his wires that indicated he was getting close to his own overload.
But before he did, he wanted to bring the conceited jet down a notch. “So your wings are a hotzone for you, huh? Should’ve known, the way you strut about waving ‘em.” He gave the jet’s precious wings a light scratch then smoothed his hand over the area to soothe the sting.
“Ya know,” he mused, “there’s something I’ve always wanted to try.”
Distracting Starscream with a series of hard, deep thrusts that rubbed against all his sensory nodes, Rumble activated his weapons system and converted his arms into their alternate mode as pile drivers.
Somehow, Starscream managed to hear the tell-tale sound of Rumble’s transformation even over the sound of his own screams. His head lolled lazily where it rested on his crossed arms, but he couldn’t work up enough energy to look behind himself. “What are you up to back there?”
Rumble pressed his pile drivers up against Starscream’s wings, the round smooth bottoms of the powerful weapons flat against the white metal. A flyer’s wings, while laden with sensors to detect the minutest changes in air pressure, temperature and speed, and therefore very sensitive to touch, were also constructed with some of the strongest Cybertronian alloys in existence to survive the dangers of flying – and falling. The armour of the wings, packed with a crisscrossing network of flight sensors, was the thickest part of a Seeker’s frame and could endure a lot more punishment than the rest of his body.
That knowledge gave Rumble the confidence to try what he had in mind. He powered up his weapons generators, letting the energy build up to maximum levels in their circuits.
Starscream flinched from the static discharge escaping in crackles into his wings. “Wha..? What was that? What are you doing?”
“Relax, ‘Screamer. I ain’t gonna do nothin’ to hurt you.” He paused, “... I think.”
Rumble released the gathered energy before Starscream had time to finish the alarmed shout. Maintaining tight control on his pistons so he didn’t accidentally punch a hole right through the jet’s wings, he adjusted the settings on his pile drivers. Rather than releasing the energy with his usual hard ground-penetrating smacks, he set them to barely move in comparison. Moving back and forth only a few inches at a time, the powerful destructive force of his pile drivers was transmuted into a series of tiny, unnoticeable vibrations. On their own, each light tap caused only a mild sensation. But when followed by another and another and another, one after the other, the result was very different.
The effect was every bit as satisfying as he could have hoped.
Starting off slow, the gentle percussion against his wings felt like a soothing massage. Starscream relaxed utterly, every ounce of tension flowing away from him by the wings out. But gradually, as the speed of Rumble’s pistons increased, the experience changed. Building to a rapid succession, the pulsating weapons gained momentum until they were moving a thousand times an astrosecond.
At that point, the gentle successive taps came so quickly on top of one another that it felt like Starscream was being shaken apart – in the most pleasurable way possible. The relentless vibrations against the surface of his wings sent energy coursing through his wings, setting every sensor aflame. His body went taught as a powerful overload rushed through in the wake of the energy wave, spreading from his wings down through the rest of his frame. Filled with intense pleasure, he was overwhelmed completely. His wires quivered under his plating, his armour shifting and quaking as he shook with a long series of aftershocks.
Rumble moved with the shrieking jet to keep up the stimulation. Starscream writhed, twisting this way and that as his body went ablaze with overload. It seemed to drag on forever, each aftershock almost as powerful as the initial overload itself. As Rumble slowly brought his pistons to a halt and converted his pile drivers back into his hands, he couldn’t have been more pleased by the successful experiment than he was. Fingers clenched around the Seeker’s twitching wings, he held on tight as he rode out the jet’s pleasure. He couldn’t help moaning himself as Starscream’s valve flexed and undulated along the length of his spike with each wave of energy passing through his body. The Seeker’s sinuous movements nearly brought Rumble to overload right along with him.
Gradually, the intense experience wore down as the excess energy dispersed itself. Sinking fluidly into a mindless sprawl, Starscream’s vents worked overtime. The hum from his internal fans echoed in the sudden stillness.
Rumble grinned lazily, resting comfortably across the jet’s back now that his wings had stopped trying to throw him off. The Cassette was fairly tired himself, having expended a lot of energy to bring Starscream off so spectacularly. He was finally ready for his own release and knew it wouldn’t take much at this point to send him over the edge.
Starscream suddenly shifted, pulling away with a growl. Turning quickly, he pushed Rumble down on the ground so he could loom over him.
“Hey, what gives!” Rumble protested. “I was almost–”
“What in the pit was that?!”
“Liked that, did ya?” Rumble snickered up at the confused Seeker. Starscream was trying to act commanding, but was still reeling from the pleasure the Cassetticon had driven him into and couldn’t quite pull off his normal demanding air. “It was something I’d been thinking about but hadn’t had a chance to try before.”
Likely that was due to the fact that most of his usual one-time partners were minis like himself. They were all too small and too lightly armoured to risk using his pile drivers on. Although now that he knew how well it worked, he was tempted to try.
Not even close to fully recovered, Starscream’s legs buckled. Collapsing, the Seeker plopped down astride the smaller mech below him. He seemed unconcerned with his new seat, bracing his hands on either side of Rumble’s head as he wriggled to find a comfortable position. Rumble could not suppress the groan torn from his vocalizer as the jet’s thigh nudged his spike.
“It was... startlingly effective.” Starscream conceded. “I had no idea you had such control over your weapons.”
Starscream didn’t look at Rumble but stared at the wall with a strange expression that kind of made Rumble nervous. His face still radiated the pleased satisfaction of his most recent overload, but there was something in the light of his optics and the slant of his lips that spoke of the Air Commander’s usual cunning and deviousness.
Rumble began to feel a bit vulnerable with the much larger mech leaning over him. Of course, this led him to do what he always did whenever he felt out of his depth: he opened his mouth.
“Huh! A compliment from our exacting Second-in-Command, I’m touched,” he said sarcastically, then could have kicked himself as Starscream’s attention focused intently down at him.
Rumble began to worry, shifting minutely beneath the bigger mech.
Lifting one of his turquoise hands, Starscream seemed to examine his claws before he slowly, carefully set his fingers against the plating of Rumble’s chest. The Cassetticon held very still as the Seeker began to lightly trace over his armour with his talons.
“I have never felt anything like that.” Starscream said, hand drifting down to Rumble’s abdomen to outline the Decepticon symbol branded there.
Rumble babbled as the Seeker’s hand dipped teasingly into his waist before making a beeline for his open interface panel and still extended, needy spike. “It’s something I picked up from the squishies. They seem to be obsessed with interfacing. Their internet is full of porn, and some of ‘em use vibrating implements as sex toys. The squishies seem to like it, so I thought I might be able to do it too.”
“Hmm,” Starscream hummed noncommittally. “And you thought I would be a good subject to test what you’d learned from those fleshling insects? Well, we’ll discuss your presumption later. For now, every sensory node in both my valve and wings are tingling pleasantly, so I will let it pass.” His hand circled once around Rumble’s dark blue spike, still wet with his own coolants. “However, I notice that you have not yet achieved your own release.” He wrapped his fingers around the small spike, squeezing lightly and evidently enjoying Rumble’s shiver if the grin on his face was any indication.
“How very... unfortunate,” he purred.
Rumble looked down at his spike held gently in Starscream’s hand. It was almost distressing how small and vulnerable it looked within the larger mech’s grasp. But, oh, how he hoped the conniving jet would actually live up to the promises in his optics and do something with it. He needed to come, badly!
Then Starscream rose up on his knees, relaxed his grip on Rumble’s spike, and sat back down with unerring aim. The groan ripped from Rumble couldn’t have been held back if he tried, it was so good. Enveloped once again by the Seeker’s tight cool valve, Rumble’s hips bucked in instinctive need.
“Easy,” the jet murmured, leaning his weight on Rumble’s chest to help hold him down. “It’s my turn now. Allow me to teach you a little trick I picked up before you were even formatted.”
Slowly, agonizingly, Starscream rose up again. Every micron of his sweet smooth valve squeezed deliciously along Rumble’s length as his spike withdrew. It was tortuously good...
... but it was not enough!
“C’mon, ‘Screamer, please!” Rumble gave in and begged. “I’m so close, nearly there. Just need a little more, just a little more pressure. Need to overload so bad! Haven’t been this charged in vorns... C’mon, ‘Screamer, I was good to you, wasn’t I? Please don’t leave me hanging!”
“Oh, don’t worry Rumble. You fulfilled your end of the bargain fairly well.” Starscream grinned, holding just the tip of Rumble’s spike with the mouth of his leaking valve. “So far.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to just leave you like this.” Starscream continued, acting oblivious to the Cassetticon’s ordeal. “Good service should be rewarded after all.”
Starscream let his legs go. Earth’s gravity yanked his body down hard, his valve clenching tight as Rumble’s spike was swallowed harsh and fast. They both screamed with the ecstasy of it.
It didn’t last long after that. Having discovered an effective technique, Starscream repeated the slow rise and fast fall several more times. Each time drove Rumble closer and closer to the edge, his body as affected by his helpless position beneath the larger mech as he was by the intense coupling. He didn’t even hear his own voice shouting and pleading with the jet who rode him. He was too caught up in the experience to be aware of anything besides the pleasure filling him and the release he knew was about to come.
Then Starscream changed the angle so that Rumble’s spike scraped along the biggest cluster of nodes within the Seeker’s valve, and it was all over. With an ear-piercing shriek, Starscream ground down with all his weight into Rumble’s pelvis as one last amazing overload ripped through him.
The resultant flexing of Starscream’s valve and the energy arching from his worn-out sensory nodes was the last straw for Rumble’s composure. Erupting from his spike out, his whole body locked up as the most powerful, intense overload the Cassette could ever remember feeling took over his very being. Shattered to the core, he felt like he was exploding into pieces.
Transfluid dripped from his spike to mix with the jet’s coolant. Tingles of energy coursed up and down his length, sparking along his wires to coalesce in great bursts in every sensory node he had. Rumble could not even gather enough wits to shout, it was all he could do just to hold on and ride out the storm of sensation.
Above him, Starscream was still arching in rapture. His wings flared out from his back, pushing his pelvis down and driving Rumble’s spike a precious breadth deeper. The Seeker’s legs closed tightly on Rumble’s hips, squeezing almost painfully. Rumble couldn’t complain though, as his hands were digging furrows into the jet’s thigh plating as he strained to pull him closer. He writhed and squirmed as much as he was able beneath Starscream’s weight, lost to everything but the overwhelming bliss of release.
At last, the massive overload seemed to begin to taper off. It took several breems to finally ease enough to return both mechs to their senses.
Rumble lay dazed on the floor, utterly exhausted but so supremely satisfied he didn’t care. Starscream was likewise affected. The jet was slumped over his chest, his larger frame barely held up from crushing Rumble by his crooked elbows.
A moment passed in relative silence as they both recovered.
Then Starscream pulled away, getting shakily to his pedes to stand over the still supine Cassetticon. Rumble stared straight up at what he now definitely considered to be Starscream’s best feature, until the Seeker closed his interface panel with a brief grimace of discomfort.
Wiping uselessly at the remains of the sticky mess on his pelvic and thigh plates, Starscream cast a single look down at Rumble before he turned to walk away without so much as a thank you.
Rumble, wondering absently where the damned flyer got the energy after not just one but four incredible overloads, barely blinked. He was fighting the desperate need to slip into recharge.
“Same time next cycle?” he said casually.
Starscream paused on his way out the door. “I’ll comm. you.”
Rumble felt a hint of a grin twist his tired lips as he allowed his optics to go dark. One last thought accompanied him happily as he settled in for a well deserved nap.
Oh pit’s, yeah!
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