Love N Sex in Hydrobase

Year five, we add three mechs and another femme to the crew. One of the mechs is Smokescreen, who I like just fine. Tracer, well she likes him – a lot. I have seen how they stand and talk. The hand holding. I am so jealous I’m glad my optics are already green. The others don’t seem to see it, but me, I do. I know something is up. So when that time of year rolls around and the Commander gets us mechs together to give us our mission for a week.

“Commander, I wish permission to stay.” Smokescreen says.

“Do I need to tell you why you must go?” the commander asks.

“A moment alone, Commander?” replies Smokescreen.

I can’t say I was surprised, cuz I saw that he and Tracer were so utterly in love that it made sense. So when the Commander sent us off sans Smokescreen, it was up to me to the rest succinctly, “Spark bond is gonna happen if he’s not careful.”

“Bow chicka wow wow.” laughs Depth, he was the resident alien life form along with his friends Shadow and Magmorta.

“You are so vile sometimes.” Shadow grumps at his friend.

“I think it’s romantic and sweet.” Magmorta pipes up, she had decided to come with us mechs as she wasn’t in estress. In fact I don’t think her kind even has it.

To which I retort, “Let’s see you say that when the Commander does that ridiculous ‘kiss a stranger’ thing this Valentines.”

“Ooohh tell me more.” Depth leers.

“Fine.” I sigh.

----

Truly I think the Commander meant well. But sitting here, secured to a chair so I cannot move, my optics and audios momentarily shut down, I just got that gut feeling I’m going to do sit and no more.

‘Kiss a stranger’ was simple enough. The femmes are each in a room with a locked door. They are all told which mech is sitting in the dark all bound up, unable to see or hear. Each one gets 90 seconds to exit their room, approach, kiss, and get back inside their rom. No touching was allowed. I can do the math really easily. 12 femmes means I’m sitting here 1080 seconds or 18 minutes of pure boredom. So I sit, wait, idly planning what I’m going to do later on that day. Really not expecting a thing to happen.

Until it does.

So soft and hesitant – I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks. But the continued pressure, soft as it was, upon my lips, tell me it is not a trick. A femme is kissing me? Seriously? Holy frag! I count the seconds now, not daring to respond and scare her off. Ten seconds later she’s gone and I am licking my lips to get a trace of taste. I grinned at the thought of my triple changer brothers’ reaction to the news that they couldn’t tease me about not being kissed. Lost in how each would react, the firm press of lips catches me off guard. Whoever this was certainly was being quite assured of herself as she kissed me a full 30 seconds before she was gone. I licked my lips again, taking in the taste that remained. Really it was this second taste that explained what my bothers had meant concerning taste for us Cybertronians. It wasn’t just limited to energon, but could give you an idea of how much a kisser liked you. Not just the taste, but how the kiss went too. Analyzing kiss one and comparing it to kiss two occupied me so much that some minutes passed. Then a full on open mouthed kiss complete with tongue makes me groan. Whoever this femme is she was not messing around. I’m just taking it in, learning from it. Minute later she is gone. I’ll spend the rest of the day comparing tastes, replaying in my mind the differences in pressure and length of each kiss. Analyzing the true intents behind each kiss.

When the day is done and I can get to my room, only then do I fully realize how I was affected. My brothers told me to be careful about over thinking any intimate experience. I should have listened. Sitting on my recharge berth, I can feel the pressure against my codpiece. I have my brothers to thank for the quick visual lesson in dealing with a codpiece, not to mention what was under it. So as I remove my codpiece and watch my shaft rise up, I recall the day I got that lesson.

I knock on the door – once, twice, and again. No answer. Yet I could hear voices inside. I just let myself in, as the door closes the reason why no one answered becomes apparent. I wasn’t sure what the positioning of the three of them meant at the time, but they certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves. I don’t think they notice me as I stand here transfixed. Broadside is on his back doing something to Sandstorm that I couldn’t quite see. Straddled over Broadsides’ legs is Springer, who removes the mechs’ codpiece. Springers’ shaft is fully out as he strokes the rising shaft of Broadside. Sandstorm has this look of bliss on his face, his optics are powered down. There is some sort of sound that sounds like licking or sucking, maybe even both. I very carefully tap the door back open and get out of there. If my brothers knew of their audience, they never said later.

So here I am stroking my own shaft to deal with that situation caused by over thinking being kissed. I find it odd at first, they slowly enjoyment and pleasure kick in. Then a knock comes at the door. Great. “Who is it?” I ask.

“Depth and Shadow, just wanna do some comparisons on who got kissed most.” Depth pipes up.

“So can we come in?” Shadow asks.

“Answer is three and no.” I reply.

There’s a laugh from Depth, “Right. Later then.”

“Lucky!” Shadow chips in.

I continue with what I’m doing, exploring what part of my shaft reacts better and with what pressure. Takes not too long to get a surge so that I can retract my shaft safely.

----

A mission comes up just after the kissing day that takes Smokescreen and Barracuda along with Bots from other bases away. Tracer seems upset but accepting that Smokescreen is leaving. But he assures her he’ll be back. A day passes. A week. Two weeks. Then on the third week I happen to pass by Tracers room where I can hear audible sobbing. I stop and go back to knock at the door.

“Tracer? Wanna talk? You sound really upset.” I say.

A little time passes and then the door opens, on the other side Tracer is wiping a tear from her cheek. “Come in, Shark.” her voice soft and a bit hoarse.

So I do enter, asking, “So what’s going on that has you leaking lubricant from your optics?”

She sits on her recharge berth, tears flowing slowly from the corner of her optics, “I think they are dead.”

“The mission team?” I ask, she nods, “Okay, why you think this?”

Such touches her hand to her chest, “I cannot feel him.” The look I give her must have clue her in as she offers further, “We are spark bonded Shark.”

I stare at her, not surprised, just in awe. “Maybe they are too far away or he’s asleep or unconscious.” I suggest.

“No, it cannot be the latter, perhaps the former. Still, it is disconcerting not to feel him.” she tells me.

I lean over to give her a hug, “He’ll be fine, just give it time.”

She smiles, “Sound like Bebop with that rhyme.” she muses, accepting the hug.

“Heh, yeah, think I’ve lived here too long.” I joke, “You gonna be okay?”

She released the hug and nods, “I think so. It’s just that I have something to tell him.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask.

A sweet smile, “I’m carrying our sparkling.”

My jaw drops, I’m in shock. “Really?”

She nods, “I’ve a few weeks to decide on a form. I wanted him to help me decide.”

“Congrats Tracer, I’m sure he’ll be back by then. If you need anything, call me okay?”I say.

“Of course, Shark.” she replies.