There wasn't much time for Ratchet to think as his and Wheeljack's lips collided once more in a heated embrace, glossa exploring glossa in a fight for dominance that Ratchet happily relinquished. The taste of their oral fluids mixing within the medic's intake making his processor practically melt. It had been... so long. Too long, since he'd felt this amazing, this excited to be doing something so completely out of protocol. To break rules, and not actively regret it. But just as Ratchet was settling in to this new lip lock, and really began relaxing in Wheeljack's servos, he felt the familiar pressure of his interface manual release clicking open and the hissing shck of his plating sliding away to reveal his soft and sensitive protoflesh beneath. The breaking of their kiss allowed Ratchet to gasp softly as the chilled air hit his hot interface array, and snap his half lidded gaze down to the absolute mess he was. 'Great.' He thought. 'As if I needed to seem any more desperate.' But in fact he was desperate. He needed this. He needed Wheeljack. The heat from Wheeljack's palm was inviting, so close yet not close enough to Ratchet's overheated and slowly dripping valve. His spike twitched just above with about as much need.
Ratchet turned his helm away, his faceplate the brilliant blue hue of energon as he blushed with embarrassment, the heat of his already intense arousal roiling over his frame along with his shame of being so... needy. "Tch." He scoffed, closing his optics, refusing to look at Wheeljack's smug expression. "What an astute observation. Perhaps you should do something about it instead of gawking?" Ratchet shifted in Wheeljack's lap, his brow ridges knitted together with what the medic was feigning as annoyance, but really he was insecure. It had been thousands of years since anyone but himself had seen his array... for all he knew things had changed since then and he was looking even more like a rusted old mech heading for the scrap heap.
Primus he was cute when he was flustered. The Wrecker had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate being told as much, so he kept the thought to himself.
Besides... there were far more efficient ways to tease the good Doctor apart from words. He had every intention of expressing the delight he felt at his partner's eagerness. Just how he liked it, actually. Frantic and grasping, like a violent addiction.
He ached as the pressure against his own panel mounted, demanding release. But frag... it was the sweetest pain, and he intended to hold off as long as he was physically able before freeing himself, imagining the agonizing relief of sinking in slow... stretching. Filling. He could practically feel those greedy calipers drawing him deep.
Gripping the edge of the seat, he pulls, shifting them forward, securing an arm around the medic's back and turning to deposit him in place beneath. He slides down, the orange-accented bot's thighs spreading wide to accommodate the breadth of his chassis. One servo presses against the grated panel over Ratchet's interface array - firm enough to hold him down - while the other splays against his deliciously messy valve, cupping it. The heel of Wheeljack's palm grinds against the anterior node, and he feels his partner's frame buck, hears the hitch in his venting.
Glacing up the length of Ratchet's body, he locks optics with him as he presses a wide digit into his needy, wet heat, followed shortly after by a second.
Ratchet was displeased with the position shift, though he didn't voice it. He was patient enough to see what Wheeljack was intending to do, and sure enough, he was rewarded for it. Watching the other mech as he repositioned them, lifting Ratchet with suprising ease and finesse with a well-worn servo around his waist. Not that he minded being seated where Wheeljack was previously, but his own fantasy of fragging the rebellious ex-wrecker in his captain's chair was beginning to fade. That is, until his thighs were spread apart and held there by the expanse of Wheeljack's chassis. His previous expression melted from almost brat-like impatience (though he would never describe himself as such) and softened into a look of dawning pleasure as a thick, rough digit was slid into his eagerly awaiting valve. The combination of pressure from the heel of the other's palm, and- oh, a second digit slipping in alongside the first- He was much more amenable to this change.
As if on instinct, Ratchet lifted his thighs, hooking them over the arm rests to further allow the gruff mech between his legs more access to do what he would and Primus did Ratchet hope Wheeljack would do whatever he wanted to him right now. Provided it involved anything to do with his touch starved valve.
The medic's optics soaked in the image of the rogue, eyes half lidded and cycled wide with arousal, watching as he slipped his now wet digits in and out of Ratchet's hot frame. His gaze every so often flicked down to watch his own interface adjust and stretch and swallow Wheeljack's fingers, his expression only giving way to his increasing enjoyment. Though the stimulation was starting light, the brushing against his internal nodes was enough to earn the wrecker a soft and earnest moan of pleasure. Ratchet sighed through the stimulation arching through his neural net, lighting up his array with each stroke of his most sensitive internals.
Ratchet's valve was tight, though stretched pleasantly over Wheeljack's knuckles each and every time he worked his digits back inside of the autobot CMO. His biolights rippled and pulsed every time Wheeljack pressed his digits as far inside Ratchet as they would go, reacting to his stimulus in very eager ways. There would be no hiding Ratchet's enjoyment of this. He was on full display before Wheeljack, and he could see just how needy the autobot was for any sort of contact that resulted in pleasure. Though, and Ratchet wouldn't admit this willingly, the fact that it was Wheeljack of all mechs made it more arousing. The uptight, by the book Chief Medical Officer and a rebellious freedom fighter who follows the beat of his own drum? His forge seal nearly snapped open at the thought.
