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First Aid wasn't one to stare, but frag was he having a hard time looking away.
It had all gone so wrong. He had, once again, forgotten his datapad in one of the hundreds of labs on MMU's campus. At least this time he remembered while he was still within walking distance and not clear across the sector. He grudgingly made his way back to this lab, one of the smaller ones on the outskirts of the main academic hub, to find the building completely empty. He didn't mind. In fact, this was preferrable to the wilting look his lab TAs inevitably gave him as they handed over the most important piece of equipment Year One's owned. First Aid shuddered at the recall of his Chem1100 professor's public announcement about 'taking better care of their personal belongings." Ugh. I need a break. My connectors are frying.
First Aid was so engrossed with that mortifying beginning to this orn's lecture that he paid little attention to his surroundings. He was nothing more than a red and white blur heading into the small inorganic chemistry lab nestled in the corner of the basement. Nearly all of the lights were off as he hastily tapped his gantlet's datapad to the door scanner. It beeped without delay, the door sliding open to deserted lab space. Benches, burners, holoscreens, and all other sorts of materials barely registered to First Aid as he b-lined for the personal items closet. He picked his way around chairs using the residual light from from buttons and panels.
Primes I hope it's in here. He was going to have a serious problem if it wasn't. Lost and found didn't have it. It has to be here! He nervously tapped the pad on the side of the closet's door frame, heaving a vent in relief as it slid open. There was his mint green datapad sitting on the left most top shelf. Thank Primus. It was hastily tucked away into his subspace. At least he could head back to his dorm now and get some well-deserved recharge-
The door scanner to the lab suddenly beeped and flashed green. First Aid's optics cycled in surprise as two mecha entered. Their silhouettes and biolights were all he could make out under the poor lighting conditions. The low-light filter on his visor quickly flicked on, rendering them in greater detail. He didn't recognize the Praxian and Velocitronian who immediately stopped at the front of the room.
"No one's in here." A vocoder strained with something First Aid couldn't place spoke first. It was husky and deep, belonging to the navy blue Praxian. Insignia on his doorwings declared him as campus security. His ice blue biolights burned brightly as the Velocitronian leaned back against the long table meant for demonstrations. White plating glittered under the minimal lighting like millions of tiny stars.
He was beautiful, with his almond shaped optics and sleek frame. Wide tibulens met an hourglass midesction before flaring out into a modest chassis. The build of his frame was somewhere between a femme and a mech; First Aid found him to be quite exotic looking. First Aid watched for a moment too long before his higher processing caught up with his base coding. He had been staring because his extremely sensitive and receptive EMF was picking up on growing charge. Time to leave...door on the left. All he needed to do was announce himself and walk out of the closet. No big deal. He thought as he awkwardly crouched to the side to avoid their line of sight. Difficult, considering they were directly across from him.
First Aid gathered up some courage, but the glyphs he planned to speak guttered out as the Velocitronian shifted on his pedes. Those enticing optics glowed a stunning, rich honey color along with his biolights. Long, dainty digits swept down the front of his frame as he spoke, highlighting his athletic stature. "Oh, whatever will you do to me, officer?" He said coyly.
"Come here and find out."
First Aid felt his spark leap up into his throat tubing. The growled response was followed by an intense spike in the mechs' EMFs. It hit him like a wall: hot, excited, and dripping with raw need. The intensity of it was an impenetrable haze settling over First Aid's EMF. Even with the embarrassed horror that flared to life in his core, he found himself unable to move. Unable to speak a glyph despite the fact that they would surely see him shortly. Unable to stop the beginnings of a dangerous ache in his valve.
The Velocitronian pushed himself off the table and sauntered over to the Praxian. Their embrace was all passion and familiarity. Plating pressed against plating, their intakes meeting in a deep kiss. First Aid's optics followed the Praxian's servos as they trailed down the Velocitronian's backplates, pulling him closer so that their interface panels touched.
"Mmmf~." The Velocitronian moaned as the Praxian squeezed his aft possessively.
First Aid's servos twitched as his spark spun up. Leave. Leave! His consciousness screamed, but he had already lost control. Not only was First Aid terrible at keeping his EMF grounded and closed off to influencing factors, he was also awkward by nature. When social interactions took a turn for the worse, First Aid was the type to freeze in place and pray somemech came to his rescue. This was his worst recall purge come to life. He leaned against the right side of the closet door frame, squishing himself farther into the corner as much he could.
Things were only heating up in the main lab room. Glossa joined in the mechs' kissing as they heavily leaned into each others' frames. The Praxian began to gently grind his interface panel against the Velocitronian's with slow, purposeful thrusts. Engines revved and vents kicked up as their charges began to build.
The Velocitronian was the first to break the kiss, a coquettish grin sliding across his handsome features. He unwound an arm from behind the Praxian's neck and brought it to his partner's intake. It traced along the sensitive mesh there as he spoke. "You're daring this luna cycle. Miss me?"
A servo reached up and grabbed the Velocitronian's faceplate, gentle but possessive. The Praxian leaned forward and nipped at the lower part of his intake. First Aid shuddered at the Velocitronian's velvety moans, which only increased in volume as the Praxian made his way down to his neck. First Aid could see the mesh between the Praxian's dentae.
"Frag, yes." The Velocitronian gasped as his neck was nibbled and sucked on. Plating shuddered as he gripped the Praxian's arm for stability. "Don't stop."
The Praxian's engine rumbled his approval as he continued on the other side of the Velocitronian's neck. He still held his faceplate, tilting his helm back with little effort. His larger frame was eagerly curled over the Velocitronian's smaller one.
Time was dragging its leaden feet at a pace First Aid found maddening. The shudders of the Velocitronian's lithe frame began to match his own, repressed ones. It had been cycles...no, vorns since First Aid had interfaced with another mech. Pit, since he had even had physical contact with another mech. Small arcs of pent-up charge peaked out from underneath his plating. He was on his knees now, watching them with hooded optics. All First Aid could register was the heady smell of ozone and the irresistible allure of their EMFs.
The Praxian gradually ceased his ministrations on the Velocitronian's neck. He shifted the grip on his faceplate to his chin, holding the mech with both his digits and his heated gaze. "Get on the bench."
The Velocitronian nodded, an eager shiver overtaking his frame. He extracted himself from his partner's embrace and slowly backed up. The bench was tall enough for him to sit on, which is exactly what he did. Shimmering white gracefully perched itself on its surface. He faced the Praxian, met his burning optics, and slowly opened his legs. A silver, polished interface panel folded away in a display of submissive invitation.
The Velocitronian was all molten, dripping gold and plush black mesh. First Aid stifled a groan as the Praxian's EMF practically exploded with desire. The Velocitronian was angled slightly, giving First Aid an unrestricted glimpse. His servo squeezed the door frame for dear life as his interface panel twitched. The ache in his valve had grown into a steady pulse of fluttering calipers and swelling mesh. His free servo dug into his upper tibulen as he futilely tried to distract himself.
Meanwhile, the Praxian was drinking in the erotic vision in front of him. His doorwings flicked and swayed with pride as he watched the Velocitronian recline for him. "You're wet for me." He purred.
The Velocitronian gave him a sultry look before dipping his servo towards his valve. Slowly, oh so deliciously slowly, his digits traced the outer mesh of it. A small trickle of lubricant dripped downwards as he teased the entrance. Calipers cycled down inside his valve as he gently pressed the digit inwards. The Praxian could hold out no longer it seemed, as he suddenly grabbed the Velocitronian by the cadulen and dragged him closer to the edge of the bench. Servos flew down to the mech's spike housing, expertly caressing the recessed tip of his spike. The Velocitronian's hips jumped upwards as the touch sent a sweet throb of pleasure through his frame.
The Velocitronian moaned, First Aid whimpered, and the Praxian's helm suddenly whipped around towards the unexpected noise.
First Aid felt his spark leave his frame. Every connector and piece of plating froze solid as his frame went rigid. The encompassing thrum of want strangling his EMF from all sides was pierced by the Praxian's shock as he made optical contact with First Aid. Doorwings flicked upwards, high and slanted outwards in alarm. All First Aid could manage was another pathetic whimper as the security guard sized him up.
"Keep going! Frag, Stalwart, please." The Velocitronian whined, unaware of the uninvited third just yards away.
First Aid couldn't stop his helm as it turned to look at the expression of pure, carnal desire on the Velocitronian's faceplate. He was beautiful. His intake was beautiful. The way he ground his valve against his partner's unmoving digits was beautiful. The sounds spilling from his parted intake were beautiful. First Aid faintly realized that the Praxian's deep love for his partner was leaking out of his EMF and into his, but that was irrelevant. The Praxian straightened, dentae set. His optics burned even more brightly than before. They flashed with what First Aid could only interpret as anger.
But his doorwings dropped downwards. His servo resumed teasing the tip of the Velocitronian's recessed spike. And, much to First Aid's complete awe, his expression shifted to one of open interest. First Aid stared, enraptured by those piercing blue optics, as the Praxian's frame puffed out and his lascivious EMF lapped at his own. Power and confidence oozed from his sturdy frame as he watched the trembling med student with enjoyment.
"Lay back." He commanded, still looking at First Aid. The Velocitronian eagerly did so, completely occupied with the growing pleasure between his legs. First Aid, however, was still frozen in place. Intense need warred with embarrassment and fear. His processor swam as it struggled to determine where his own EMF began and theirs ended.
The Praxian's engine growled loudly, sending an intimidating vibration through the room. It then quickly died down to a gentle purr. He was posturing; showing First Aid that he was in charge. "Relax for me."
It was intoxicating to him. First Aid's frame moved of its own accord, leaning back against the shelving behind him. His vents had kicked up into an audible whine. Everything was heat and ache and desire. A faint snick echoed throughout the closet as his interface panel opened.
The Praxian's optics widened as he looked down at First Aid's valve. His digits never stopped as he continued to pleasure his bucking partner, whose panels sparked with errant charge. He watched as blue lubricant trickled out of puffy mesh, its grey color nearly glowing from the amount of energy running through it. His optics slid back up to meet First Aid's visor, glinting with something dark and devious.
The Praxian stepped closer to the Velocitronian, leaning over him to whisper something into his audial. He froze for a moment, EMF growing unsure as the Praxian stroked his tibulen in a calming gesture. More whispers were exchanged before the Velocitronian's hips shifted. His partner's servos guided him to angle himself further, to open up more, so that First Aid could fully see him.
First Aid's servo was practically drawing energon as he fought to keep it from his own valve. He had been fighting a losing battle, one that was soundly lost the nanoklik the Velocitronian's optics met his. There was desire behind them, behind both of their optics. They wanted him to watch this.
"Touch yourself for me." The Praxian commanded.
First Aid let out a low groan as he finally gave in. His servo moved to his valve, digit immediately entering the slick sleeve and circling around his calipers. Charge lanced up his spinal strut as he slowly teased the squeezing rings.
"Good mech." It was a sultry purr, music to First Aid's audials.
"Stalwart." The Velocitronian moaned, writhing with a nearing overload. "Please, I need it."
The Praxian abruptly pulled the Velocitronian to the side, blocking First Aid's view. First Aid bit his lower intake as he stifled an indignant whine, but it morphed into a soft gasp as the Praxian's interface panel slid open. His spike, navy blue and pulsing with biolights, expanded forward. It was an impressive piece of equipment. Plenty of nodes and connectors lined its surface, with a few interesting ridges running along its length. The tip momentarily flared outward, seeking a connection as charge arched from it.
He stepped forward and took his partner's servos in his own. They were swiftly pinned to the side. "Beg for it." He said, thrusting his spike across the Velocitronian's valve.
The Velocitronian's helm fell back, his hips thrusting up in an attempt to get the spike inside him. "Please, please! Give it to me."
The Praxian's doorwings flicked with pride as he continued to simply grind his spike against his partner. It was quickly coated with lubricant, sliding back and forth easily. "Louder." He growled.
"Please give me your spike! Primes, frag me Stalwart!" The Velocitronian cried.
The Praxian repositioned his hips, the tip of his spike just barely teasing at the Velocitronian's entrance. He paused, looked over to First Aid, and repeated his demand. "Beg for it."
First Aid gasped, his hips still moving in time with the Praxian's earlier, slow thrusts. His optics were locked on to that spike. He could imagine it, its length splitting him open and sparking its energy inside of him. Bent over the bench as he sank it fully into his valve and hit his deepest connectors. Servos behind his back, held tight and used as leverage to pull him farther onto it. "Please." He murmured, digits moving faster inside his valve.
"Louder."
"Please!" First Aid shouted. His frame was buzzing with charge, a live wire waiting for the smallest connection to explode into sparks. The world narrowed down to that anticipated release.
The Praxian moaned slightly at the shaking mess of lubricant and frantic digits across from him before sliding into the Velocitronian's valve. The effect was immediate. They both groaned and shuddered, the Velocitronian's legs clamping tight around the Praxian's midsection. The Praxian leaned forward, sill holding the Velocitronian's servos, and pressed his interface panel flush. His spike began to slowly piston back and forth. The Velocitronian's response was mindless gibberish as his charge rocketed towards an overload.
First Aid moaned loudly at the sight. The Praxian lifted up one of the Velocitronian's legs to allow a better view of their connection. Golden lubricant dripped onto the floor as his spike stretched the valve achingly wide. First Aid's other servo dipped down to firmly rub circles over his recessed spike, causing his entire frame to twitch. He wasn't going to last much longer.
It didn't look like they were either. The Praxian's commanding demeanor had devolved into panting vents and clipped glyphs of encouragement. "Yeah, just like that. Arch your backplates for me."
"Ah! Ah!' The Velocitronian was practically screaming as the Praxian's spike thrust deeper and harder, searching out the connectors at the back of his valve. He evidently found them as a lance of charge suddenly whited out both of their biolights. They had connected, deeply, and their charge was now a shared store of energy cycling between them. They feverishly rocked their frames against each other as their overload grew even closer.
First Aid's valve began to rhythmically cycle down on his digits. Its pulsing beat thrummed throughout his frame. He was so close. Lewd sounds tumbled out of his intake as he bucked on the closet floor with wild abandon.
"You wanna overload for me?" The Praxian's tone was husky and strained.
"Yes! I wanna overload. Oh Primes I wanna overload!" The Velocitronian's movements became erratic.
"Then look at him and show him how much you love my spike. Do it."
The Velocitronian, whose moaning was now shrill, met First Aid's optics one last time. The honey color of them had brightened to a near white. First Aid's visor was much the same as his pleasure reached its crescendo. The Velocitronian's helm snapped back, his frame arched up against his partner, and he went rigid as his overload finally hit.
First Aid devoured the graceful arch of the Velocitronian's frame, the way it shimmered even brighter as their shared charge burst out from his seams. The Praxian pressed into him even harder, his own faceplate morphing into one of pure bliss as he followed. It was the most erotic thing First Aid had ever seen, and he would have gladly taken in more details if his own overload hadn't torn through him.
He let out a string of high-pitched whimpers as he held his digits in his spasming valve. Charge, having no connectors to cycle into, lashed across his plating and into the surrounding atmosphere. His optical feed whited out as he shook against the closet's floor. It came in wave after wave. He could only ride it out as the mecha across from him did the same.
It could have been joors or kliks until First Aid came back to his senses. He couldn't tell. A warm glow suffused his frame as he simply laid there, vents cycling in atmosphere to cool his warm plating. His servos stilled and rested at his hips. Small twitches and tremors popped up here and there, but it wasn't long before he was fully relaxed. All that could be heard was the cycling of vents and a few affectionate murmurs from the couple in the lab. First Aid glanced up at them, his EMF melting a bit as he watched them gently pet each other.
A few more kliks ticked by. The influence of their EMFs faded away as they collected themselves, and First Aid found himself awkwardly pulling his frame into a sitting position. The Velocitronian was still on his backplates, arm draped across his optics as he rested. The Praxian, who had carefully removed his spike and retracted it, was caressing his partner's midsection. They were engrossed with each other.
First Aid became increasingly aware of his surroundings and just how incredibly inappropriate his actions had been. Mortification returned, this time far stronger than before. What did I just do?!? Are there cameras in this lab? Oh...oh scrap. I could get into so much trouble! He swallowed hard, throat tubing suddenly dry. He didn't even know these mecha. Their EMFs had been so enticing... The click of his interface panel closing was deafening in the quiet. The Praxian turned to regard him once again, this time much more languidly. First Aid ducked his helm and looked down as embarrassment ate away at his composure. "I...I...I'm sorry." He squeaked out.
The Praxian chuckled. "It's fine. You're quite the little voyeur, aren't you medbot?"
Bright blue bloomed across First Aid's faceplate at the teasing. Never had he been more grateful for his mask and visor. He would have about exploded with shame if the Praxian's EMF hadn't been relaxed and good natured. "I didn't...I was just grabbing my datapad!"
"Mhmmm." The Velocitronian responded, eyeing him curiously.
First Aid couldn't bear the scrutiny any longer. He finally found the willpower to get to his pedes, albeit shakily. Lubricant streaked the edges of his interface panel and his servos. He quickly found the nearest sink, washing it all off with little regard to the mecha now cleaning themselves off as well. All that was going through his processor was the pressing need to leave as soon as possible. The low-grade filtered down the sink with a gurgle. First Aid turned on his pedes, helm down as he power-walked towards the nearest exit.
"Hold on now." The Praxian had unknowingly made his way over to First Aid, grabbing him by the arm as he passed. "You're not running away from me that easily." His tone was still husky.
First Aid balked. "I shouldn't have done that. The cameras-"
"Are off. I'm not that reckless."
Oh. He was a security guard after all. Must have been a higher up one to be able to pull that off. Well, at least he had that little bit of relief. First Aid stood there in the Praxian's grip, nervously glancing between him and the lounging Velocitronian. They were unbelievably nonchalant about the whole thing. "What do you want?"
"Your digits. For next time."
First Aid's spark skipped a revolution. Next time? They wanted him to do this again? "I...well...I suppose we could talk later." First Aid was still keenly aware of the serious trouble that they could get into for doing this, but he couldn't deny that that had been the hardest overload of his entire function. A talk wouldn't hurt, right? And so he gave the persuasive Praxian the digits to his personal commlink. He didn't stick around after that, hurriedly making his way out of the lab and across campus.
He really, really needed to learn not to stare.