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A Sticky Situation

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Title: A Sticky Situation
Fandom: G1 sometime after Season 2
Rating: R for subject matter, language
Warnings: Crackfic, references to Mech/Mech (PNP & sticky) and human het, cussing.
Words: 2610
Wheeljack invents sticky interfacing for scientific purposes, and it leaves everyone cold.
Notes: Written for the winter 2011 challenge and de-anoned today XDDDDD Thanks to for the bunny and for coding :)
Wheeljack's theory on the role of sexuality in the formation of cooperative, egalitarian hunter-gatherer bands is actually found in Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan, Cacilda Jethá, which is an awesome book that will make you laugh and think and say, "dude".

A Sticky Situation

"Hey Jack!" Spike called out as he cautiously entered the inventor's lab. It was, officially, a 'no humans' zone, though that didn't keep his dad from teaming up with the explosion-prone Autobot on a regular basis. However, even Sparkplug tried to keep Spike out for his own safety. It didn't seem like a coincidence that right after his dad left with Trailbreaker and Beachcomber for a couple of days of camping, Wheeljack commed the 19 year old and asked him to meet him there.

"Oh, hello Spike! I'm so glad you came. Primus, did you mate with Carly again this morning? You humans really are obsessed with copulation. She is not due to ovulate for another 5.683 days!"

Spike's face heated. Scratching the back of his neck, he looked down at the burn-marked floor. Ever since he'd lost his virginity, this had been an issue. The Autobots just weren't able to remain discrete about what their sensors were picked up regarding human sexual behavior and urges. Not that it had been much better when he he'd been a virgin running around the Ark with raging hormones, secretly fantasizing about dark haired, indigenous Peruvian girls or princesses from the middle ages. Not to mention Carly. Bumblebee had even volunteered to obtain a prostitute for him. Now that sure had been an embarrassing conversation. The minibot just couldn't understand why paying for sex was an issue when humans paid for services such as car washes, oil changes, radiator flushes, and other equally intimate activities.

Nor did it help that Carly thought the whole issue was hilarious, especially when one of the Autobots would inform her that she was ovulating and offer to retrieve Spike for her so they could actually procreate for once rather than having intercourse for no logical purpose. Depending on which Autobot it was, the methods of retrieval ranged from humiliating to 'please kill me now to put me out of my misery.'

Not that any of it was going to stop him from 'copulating' with Carly every chance he got. He was 19. He was male. He had the girl of his dreams. He had his priorities.

"Erm ... yeah Jack. Remember how I told you that humans don't really like having you guys point out things that are supposed to be private? You know ... the whole think before you speak thing."

"And like I've said, Spike, it doesn't make any sense. You humans are more obsessed with copulation than any organic species we have encountered. You talk about it all the time, think about it even more, use sexuality to advertise completely unrelated products, and spend more money on pornography than any other form of media." Wheeljack was nonplussed as he turned back to whatever gadget he was working on ... which made Spike look twice. What WAS Jack working on?!


"Ah, do you like it? I am trying to replicate your responses to understand why your species engages in heterosexual mating when it is physically impossible for your females to conceive. The data you and Carly have provided has been invaluable. I just wanted to show you the finished product and conduct my final tests."

Spike's mouth was so wide that Laserbeak could have flown right in.

"Bu ... t ... ermmmmm ... Back the fuck up, Wheeljack. Why in God's name are making a ... what is that!?"

Wheejack beamed. "That, young Spike, is a Phallic Exoskeletal Non-procreative Intercourse Simulator."

Spike sat down ... or rather fell down ... hard, on his ass. He couldn't say anything for several moments.

Finally he stammered, "A penis. You have invented a mech penis."

"Yes, Spike. Isn't it wonderful? I've used the data from the advanced sensor suite I had installed in Carly's quarters, so I could closely monitor both of your physiological responses when you engage in intercourse that serves no procreative function! The only thing left is to hook this PENIS prototype to your brain and stimulate it so I can be sure it creates the same types physiological responses, then hook it up to a mech and adjust their sensor levels accordingly." Wheeljack turned enthusiastically back toward the gigantic robo-dildo, opening a panel on its tip to make a few adjustments that made Spike flinch.

"Shit Jack ... no! You can't just monitor people while they are having sex. It is private! And I'm not hooking up to that thing! What in the hell were you thinking? This is so violating!" Spike got back to his feet, pacing, rubbing his forehead the way Optimus did after a particularly bad prank war.

"But Carly told me I could," Wheeljack said in a small (for him), concerned voice. "She even signed a consent form. I'm sorry, Spike. I assumed she had told you about my research. I find human non-procreative sexual behavior fascinating. I've never encountered anything like it. You are one of two species on this planet that have non-procreative heterosexual intercourse, and the other is your closest cousins, the Bonobos. Other species may have orgiastic sexual contact for fun, even homosexual contact, but their heterosexual mating is always during the female's fertile cycle."

Spike buried his face in his hands. This was Jack. Nothing he said would change the inventor's course once an idea blew into his processors, no matter the cost involved ... especially to human dignity.

"And how is a gigantic robo-cock going to help you understand that better?" Spike said into his hands, not able to look up at the metal phallic shape that, to make matters worse, was painted in Wheeljack's colors.

"Participant observation, Spike! Just like those anthropologists who spent six months with us."

"Particpant ... WHEELJACK, you aren't planning on using that on ... oh please tell me you aren't planning to experiment with that on humans."

At that Wheeljack roared with laughter. "Primus, Spike, that is a good one. Oh ... the mess that would make. I don't think an organic could survive it. No, no, the plan is to try it with one another, to see if having interface units as physically sensitive as those on humans will lead to the same sort of sexually obsessive behavior, and then ascertain the function that behavior plays in social interactions and community cohesiveness. My theory is that human sexuality fills a far more important role evolutionarily than its procreative function. I theorize that it led to the cooperative, non-hierarchical bands of hunter-gatherers who shared everything, including sex, in common, and that sex was the major manner in which social ties were created in primitive communities. Those socially cohesive, non-competitive groups were what allowed you to become the unlikely dominant species on your planet, despite being smaller, weaker, and even less intelligent than some of your competitors."

Spike didn't speak for a full minute, a whimpering sound coming from behind his hands where his face was buried. Finally a pleading voice said, "Jack, you can't do this. Seriously. It is humiliating. The idea of you guys doing ... oh shit Jack. Please, it is hard enough knowing that you plug into each other and get off on data exchange, and that you do it anytime and anywhere." Spike took a deep breath and tried to construct a scientific argument Wheeljack might buy. "It ... this won't serve any scientific function. You are a different species, you are mechanical, having ... recreational genital intercourse ... won't prove anything."

"Well of course it won't, Spike. That is only a small part of my study. This is mainly to fulfill our curiosity about you and Carly and all of those videos on the Playboy channel. We really can't figure out how an intelligent species can spend so much of their time obsessing about sex, and the rest of their time having sex, making plans to have sex, or getting turned down for sex. Now that we know we are here long term, Optimus has asked us to find ways to understand humanity better. This is my contribution. Now, if you will just let me connect this to your brain, I will complete my testing and will be able to present the invention at the next staff meeting."

"No ... Jack ... NO. I'm not plugging into to that, not now, not ever. I'm going to pretend I've never seen it, never had this conversation, and I don't ever want to hear about it or see..that THING ... again!" Spike stormed out of the lab, muttering about clueless, insensitive gigantic aliens who had no respect for what little manly pride remained in him.

"Well," Wheeljack huffed. "That was so unlike him. Spike is always so helpful. At least Carly was more cooperative when we tested the port. Hmmm ... maybe I can get her to test the plug as well. She certainly didn't seem to mind the first test."

A few days later the entire mecha population of the Autobot base found themselves locked out, access codes changed, and not even Red Alert or Jazz able to break them. To top it off, it was actually snowing on Mt. St. Hilary with a fierce biting wind that went right through their armor to their protoforms.

"Ah just don't understand what the big deal was ta the little lady," Jazz lamented, leaning against the twins for warmth. "Ole Jack said she was the one who was the most excited about the study."

"Fleshy should have felt honored by the designation," Sunstreaker added as he wiped the snow off of his shoulders fretfully, unsubspacing a towel to polish off the water spots for the third time in the last five minutes.

"As often as they copulate, it is illogical for them to have reacted the way they did when we invited them to the staff meeting. We only wished to ascertain if we were engaging in the behavior appropriately. They are the ones who always remind us that the pornographic videos are unrealistic," Prowl added, his door wings held tight to his frame to try to prevent the wind from aggravating his already overtaxed environmental sensors.

"This is unacceptable," rumbled Prime's voice above them. "She has shut us out of our own base. The Decepticons could be attacking any number of energy production or military targets and we would not know because we are away from our monitors. I will enter into negotiations with her. I am certain we can overcome this with diplomacy."

The Autobot leader stepped carefully over the glitching Red Alert who was being tended by Ratchet and Inferno as the rest huddled around them to provide a buffer from the bitter wind.

They all watched silently as Prime knelt down and knocked on a tiny door. Carly peaked out of the human entrance and began making wild hand gestures at Prime, clearly still furious. The howling wind kept even their keen audios from picking up the conversation.

After a few moments, Prime nodded regally and returned to the freezing group.

"Carly and I have reached an agreement," Optimus announced, looking satisfied. "She says we may come back inside at dawn tomorrow on three conditions, but that currently we must remain outside because we are all in the 'canine abode.' I am not certain I understand that allusion, but she was in no mood to explain."

He regarded his Autobots silently for a moment, allowing the pause to emphasize the seriousness of the matter.

"The first condition is that we will only engage in our research on human sexual behavior in private. Interfacing in corridors, the rec room, staff meetings, med bay, the command center is strictly off limits. This includes self pleasuring."

"But that is impossible! There is simply no way I can make it through a shift on monitor duty without touching it!" Bumblebee protested, others nodding and muttering in agreement.

Optimus held up his hand. "The second condition is that we must disable our vocal processors when we do experiment with the modifications. Carly says that she has a constant headache from the bellows and keens."

"But that isn't fair! We have to listen to them making all of those squishy noises," Sideswipe protested.

"And you deliberately record them," Hound snickered from where he had his arms wrapped around his ice cold noble.

Optimus ignored the banter. "The third condition is by far the most serious to Carly. We may not, under any circumstances, ever refer to the port Wheeljack has installed in our interface panels as a 'carly' ever again."

"Slag, it was fun asking mah fellow mechs if they'd spike mah carly," Jazz pouted.

"What about Spike, Prime? Can we still call the plug a spike? Because it is just so cute calling it that and I adore how the little guy blushes every time we say it and none of the other terms seem to work. It isn't a dildo, and it isn't even really a plug or a cable, and it makes Sunny and Mirage uncomfortable when we call it a PENIS. The fact that on the larger mechs it is the same size as Spike makes it even funnier and we sure need some good laughs around here with the 'Cons controlling Cybertron ... "

Optimus cut Bluestreak off before he could get on a roll. "Carly gave no conditions regarding our designation for the spike. Since Spike is the one who suggested the 'carly' designation shortly after he got into Sparkplug's alcohol supply, I can only surmise that she intends that particular term to remain. Speaking of which, how is our little organic friend?" Optimus looked with concern toward Wheeljack where the inventor was in his alt mode with the heater going at full blast.

"He is still inebriated and passed out, Optimus, but my energon supply will be too low to keep my heater running long before dawn. Are you certain she won't let Spike back in?"

"I'm afraid not, old friend. He is also in the 'canine abode'." Prime's voice was full of regret.

"Well ... look at it this way, mechs. At least we know how ta keep each other warm. Ah'm sure that heat will keep little Spiky here from freezing his tiny spike off." Jazz looked around him with a Cheshire grin, his visor winking.

All around him, mechs nodded quickly in agreement. After all, generating some heat was a matter of survival for the human, and comfort for the rest of them.

"I only have one question before we begin generating heat," Optimus added, looking at Wheeljack who had transformed to his root form, holding Spike close to keep the unconscious human warm. "Was it really necessary to include the exchange of fluids in the simulated intercourse? It serves no practical purpose."

"Not to mention it's revoltingly messy," Mirage added.

"Yes, but it mimics the entire experience, and the experience simply is not the same without rush of fluids past the sensors on the tip," Wheeljack explained reasonably. "I can shut it off if you would like, though."

"Oh no, no, not necessary. It would skew the results of your research," Optimus quickly assured the inventor, even Mirage and Sunstreaker nodding in agreement. "This is, after all, for science."