#morphameigus-almighty

Ratchet hadn’t expected the speedster to be so... competent at this. He half thought that Rodimus would just take his heat as an excuse to pull him away from work so he could fuck him, he didn’t think that Rodimus would actually care for him so dutifully.

The speedster had started off using his servos and glossa, knowing that it would take Ratchet more overloads than Rodimus himself could stand in order to tire out his heat. After a couple rounds with that, he swapped over to some toys, and only when Ratchet was thoroughly worn and needy did he actually use his spike on him.

It took only a handful of thrusts to get Ratchet to climax once Rodimus was in him, but the medic didn’t let up, his servos gripping at Rodimus and holding his frame down onto his own overheating one. 

“Don’t worry, Ratch, I’ve got you,” Rodimus murmured into Ratchet’s audio receptor, “I’m gonna take care of you, alright?”

All Ratchet could offer up was a weak little sound, his hips rolling and trying to pick up the pace. Rodimus obliged, fragging him hard and rough into the berth until his own overload was washing over him. Rodimus hit his overload twice more before he just couldn’t go anymore. Luckily for him, Ratchet was sated by then.

“You’re a mess,” Rodimus chuckled, looking over Ratchet’s lubricant and transfluid dirtied frame. “You wanna come to the washracks and get cleaned up?”

Rodimus stood first, allowing Ratchet to pull himself off the berth and lean into Rodimus, trying to combat his unsteady legs. Once they made it to the washracks, Rodimus had Ratchet sit down while he detached the showerhead and kneeled next to him, dutifully cleaning his frame down with a cloth and some kind of cleanser that hat a sweet scent to it. 

The water, warm but still cool enough to help cool his frame, felt luxurious, as did the light massages Rodimus gave him as he worked the cleaner and cloth into what gaps he could. Ratchet had half a mind to tell Rodimus that those spots couldn’t have possibly gotten dirty, but the second he opened his mouth Rodimus had shot back with “Just let me take care of you, Ratch,” and that soft smile that only Ratchet ever got to see.

Once Rodimus deemed that they were both clean enough, He helped Ratchet back to the berth and stood next to him.

“Recharge, your heat’ll probably be back soon, and I want to make sure you’ve got the energy for it. I’ll go get us some energon in the mean time, it’ll be here for you when you wake up, alright?” Rodimus said, one knee on the berth as he made sure Ratchet would actually stay in bed and not get up to try to follow him or catch up on work.

Ratchet was usually immune to Rodimus’ flirting while he was in the workplace, bar, or anywhere but their habsuite, but today Rodimus was really laying it on. He was draped across Ratchet’s frame at every moment he could be, his engine purring hotly and his spoiler twitching behind him. It was no surprise to Ratchet the Rodimus successfully managed to turn their Valentine’s Day dinner into another flirtation exploit. 

What surprised Rodimus was Ratchet actually responding to his efforts. The speedster sometimes forgot that Ratchet was just as enthusiastic as he was under that gruff facade he had to put up to keep himself sane during work. It was only natural that the two of them had to run off to the berthroom before they could finish their meal. Rodimus more or less threw Ratchet onto the berth before climbing over him, burying his face in the medic’s neck cabling.

“Mmh, I love you so much, Ratch’,” Rodimus moaned, disengaging his spike paneling. Ratchet, in turn, let his valve cover shift away. 

Rodimus never did give much thought to the lead up, and tonight was no different. Warm, yellow servos took Ratchet’s hips as he guided his spike into him, letting out a low, shaky groan.

Ratchet’s skillful servos wandered Rodimus’ body, picking out all the most sensitive spots and teasing them. Speedsters burned hot and quick during interface, and Ratchet was ready to exploit that to get Rodimus to fill him to the brim.

Within minutes of Rodimus feverishly thrusting into Ratchet and the medic’s digits plucking at his sensitive wiring, the speedster was tipping to his first overload with a loud cry, frame shuddering and spike throbbing as it filled Ratchet up. 

Swerve knew a lot more about chocolate that you’d expected. All that knowledge became apparent when, after one of the Lost Light’s supply stops on Earth, Valentine’s day came around and he presented you with two boxes of chocolate that he had gotten a few days prior. Of course, he has a nervous smile on his face and flushed cheeks.

“I-I know that humans usually get things like this on today, and I’ve got some energon equivalents, so, uh, maybe we can just kind of... um-”

“Sure, Swerve.” You cut him off with a laugh and a kiss on his cheek before he can continue to struggle out more words. You are the only person he actually can’t find things to day around when he’s nervous, and it makes you feel special.

“So, you like it hot? Or cold?” Rodimus asked.

“I dunno what you’re talking about...” Swerve chuckled, “Especially since you’ve got your spike in me... Um- hot?” He muttered, tilting his helm in bewilderment. Suddenly, Rodimus’ spike pulsed with heat and the speedster punctuated the change with a sharp thrust.

Swerve gasped. It felt almost like the heat of transfluid filling him, and it only made his valve clench down harder. It didn’t burn, but it brought a pleasant warmth through his frame. His shaky servos dragged down Rodimus’ front as the speedster set a relentless pace, thrusting into Swerve’s tight valve.