Speed Demon

Knockout arrived at his quarters after an especially long shift, multiple vehicons having been injured in a recent battle and gave him a lot of trouble, if only Breakdown were around to help. But no matter, he was home now and could finally relax… Breakdown. How long has it been since he…? He sighed deeply as he stood over his berth, moonlight shining on it from the bedside window, built specifically for two mechs, one big and one small. “Breakdown?” Knockout asked to the air, “Are you still there?” No answer… as usual.

He sat on the edge of the soft berth and held his helm in his servos, resting his elbows on his knees, hunching over as the moon outlined his frame from behind him. He sighed deeply as he thought about his conjunx, his beautiful, beautiful conjunx… Primus really does take the best sparks early. Doesn’t he? Knockout lay on his back on the berth, staring up at the ceiling as he folded his servos across his chassis, oh how he missed being held by Breakdown. His servos tracing Knockout’s frame as he lay cuddling him, how he trailed them from his chassis to his waist to bring him closer, and when he kissed his neck cables so tenderly. Knockout mimicked Breakdown’s actions with his own servo, trailing his it down his chassis, to his abdomen, then to his inner thigh, attempting to mirror his conjunx’s tender touches.

“Please…” He whined, turning onto his side, shuffling into the soft sheets beneath him, optics slipping shut for a second as he caressed his thigh-plates before opening them half-lidded and eyeing Breakdown’s extra large pillow. He grabbed it and brought it close to him, clutching to it tightly before running his servos over the soft material, relishing the softness Breakdown always loved about it, Knockout didn’t always like soft things, but he had come to appreciate it a lot more nowadays. He closed his optics once more and traced the crevices and the dips in the pillow, imagining each one were part of his conjunx, when they kissed and how his larger derma slotted perfectly with his, how their servos intertwined so perfectly, how he was meant for him was perfect…

Knockout brought his legs up and hooked them around the pillow, slotting it between his legs, the softness rubbing up against his modesty panel oh so gently, like how Breakdown… Knockout let out a soft whine as he clutched the pillow tighter, grinding his hips against the comfortable cushion once, imagining his panel rubbing up against Breakdown’s valve, how perfect it was. Every time Knockdown brought him to berth, he always insisted on being the one to spike him, and Breakdown being the faithful conjunx he was, he always let him. “B-Breakdown… please…” He asked, as he’d done so many times before, and as so many times before, he swore he heard his partner whisper, “Yes, of course my dear, always…”

He turned so he was laying on top of the pillow, still clutching to it as he positioned his hips against where Breakdown’s would be, “I-I need you… please,” he asked his lover’s memory, “Just for tonight?” The wind from the open window responded in a voice just as gentle as Breakdown’s, “Yes my dear, please, I need you too…” Knockout nodded and started to move his hips against the plush cushion, a sigh escaping his derma as he started to rock against the memoir of his lover, “Thank you…”

Knockout started to vent heavier as he rolled against the soft surface, letting his panels snap open and his valve breathe, the feeling was more divine now, it felt just like… Breakdown. He shut his optics and ground against the pillow gently, his anterior node rubbing against the firmer sewn corner of the cushion, creating much needed stimulation, “Ngh, Breakdown~…” Knockout whined, he wanted to go faster, but he kept his slower pace, savoring this fleeting moment with his racing mind as imagined his conjunx in the pillow’s place. He took a deep vent as he ground his hips deeper against his lover’s memory, trying to press into Breakdown’s valve with his, they way they sang when their nodes made contact. But no such noise came from below. No sounds other than the rustling of the fabric blessed his audials. The familiar sound of metal against metal and the wet slap of tender, love filled nights were absent, the squish of the pillow was nothing like Breakdown’s sturdy frame either… it was not the same. It’ll… never be the same.

Knockout panted openly as his hips slowed to a staggering stop, mouth hanging open as he choked back a sob, trying to hug the pillow tighter, trying to get a sense of resistance, a sentiment of the unmoving sense of Breakdown’s frame, but none came. His conjunx always liked soft things, but it only left a sense of longing as Knockout realized the only sense of resistance came from his own tight grip on the cushion. “O-oh Primus…” He whined as he started to tremble, trying to hold back his tears as they pricked his closed optics, refusing to open, scared he’ll lose the illusion that Breakdown might be there, even though he knew the answer to that dashed hope. “Please… I need you so bad…” He whined, as he held onto the pillow impossibly tighter, a few stray tears escaping as he clutched it like a lifeline, “Please, don’t leave me…”

He started to move his hips again against the cushion more frantically, chasing the feeling of his node being stimulated and the press of his dripping valve against his partner’s pillow. Knockout needed to be close to Breakdown again, the loneliness was getting too much, reduced to a whiny mess as he fragged the daylights out of a pillow, tears streaming more freely as he moved his hips quicker and quicker. “H-hah! Breakdown…” He stammered out a cry to his conjunx, hoping he would hear a sound in return… but none came.

He picks up speed, frame trembling as he started to cry, tears flowing down his cheeks and hiccuping as he clutched to the pillow impossibly tighter. “B-Breakdown… oh…” Knockout whimpered out as he continued to hump the cushion in earnest, fat tears rolling down from his optics as he sobbed. Why was Primus so cruel to him? To have stolen his conjunx away from him and leave him longing like this? He let out a spark-shattering wail, something that could be heard halfway across the Nemesis, as he cried harder and harder, optics squeezing shut as they burned worse, hips still thrusting frantically into the pillow. “B-Break- Breakdown!” He yelped, his impending overload sneaking up on him faster than expected as he ground his hips and clutched to the cushion tighter, desperate for release, contact, anything from his conjunx.

“Oh, my love…” His valve throbbed worse as he was nearing his overload, humping the pillow faster as the berth creaked underneath, thrusts puncturing each of his words, “Ugh! Ngh! B-ah! Breakdown… p-please!” Knockout half-sobbed, half-moaned as he chased the familiar feeling of his oncoming overload, something that used to be shared in bliss, was now something to lament, a wail breaking the string of desperate noises he would be praised so sweetly for, coming out as a sorrowful sound, “Ugh! Ngh-BREAKDOWN!” His overload came in overwhelmed spurts, his empty valve spasming as it shot out pink, translucent transfluid, staining the pillow below him. “Ngh~… oh, m-my love… please…” he stammered, slowly coming down from his high, clinging to the now-soiled cushion, panting hard and heavy, broken sobs cutting through the deep vents.

“Mngh… oh,” Knockout’s processor was so fuzzy, optics lulling open to look at the cushion as he regained his sense of self, his lonely, aching self. “Breakdown… I, I love you… I love you so much…” He kissed the softness of the pillow, only to scowl and flop onto his side, settling into the berth as he kicked his conjunx’s pillow away with a frustrated cry, the plush of the cushion was not like Breakdown at all, it would never be like Breakdown. “Why… oh god, why..?” He asked no one, tears rolling down his cheek slowly, following the consistent trail from before he scrambled to retrieve the stained pillow, bringing it up to his olfactory sensors and taking a deep vent. It was all too familiar, the smell of Breakdown and the after-notes of interfacing, it was so comforting, yet so betraying at the same time. He wanted his partner so badly, he wanted to hold him again, to talk to him again, to laugh and cry and reminisce with him…

Knockout held the pillow closer to his slightly trembling frame as he relaxed into the berth, shuffling into the sheets below as he closed his optics, sore from crying and vocalizer overused from sobbing and whining, pleading one last thing to the cruel spirit of Primus before slipping into an overwhelmed recharge, hoping that Breakdown would answer…