Work Header


Work Text:

“Trailbreaker and Beachcomber are coming up in a few days,” the green mech announces from the main floor of the warehouse.

 Astrid’s in the office, typing away at a report that no one at BREME will probably read, but has to be written anyways.

 “And you want to know if they can stay with us,” she calls back, not taking her eyes off the computer screen. She can hear him get up from whatever he’s doing out there and stroll over to the banister outside the hallway. The human takes that as her cue to get up and go see him.

 “Of course,” he says with a smile as she rounds the corner and stands in the doorway.

 She shrugs, giving her answer: “Sure.” But it’s not without it’s strings attached. “Just remember that I like to be in bed by eleven,” she warns. “So try not to get too rowdy, alright?”

 He hooks a finger at her and she follows it over to the railing. Hands snake between the supports and grab her hips, bringing her right up against it - he’s at her chest-level up here, and Hound does like to have a little fun with it.

 “I’ll let ‘em know,” he says, dipping his head to trail his lips along one of her hip bones.

 But there’s something else on his mind, she can tell. C’mon, spit it out, big guy.

 After a few moments, he does continue. “I’ve been thinking…” Called it, she silently gloats, grinning.


 He’s still working her hip, moving so slightly towards her soft belly.

 “Sex stuff…”

 “When aren’t you thinking about sex?” she chuckles into the side of his hulking green head. “Are you ever going to stop being as horny as a teenager?”

 “I can make no promises,” he chuckles back, smiling against her skin.

 “Well go on... I’m listening.”

 Ever since diving headfirst into human sexuality, there’s been seemingly little that the Jeep hasn’t said he wanted to try. He described it as suddenly being allowed to peruse a buffet that he’d never even known existed before. Thank god it was more about slaking curiosity to him than living up to some fantasy orgasm; if it were the latter, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun as it’s proven to be so far.

 “I was thinking… a couple threesomes.”

 If Astrid had an engine instead of a heart and lungs, it would’ve choked. He withdraws his face from her tum and meets her gaze.

 “Threesomes?” she repeats back to him, eyebrows raised. The mech has a look on his face that says he’s a little embarrassed and a little determined. Hers must say that she’s a lot surprised and a lot overwhelmed. “I… what? With who?

 Moreover… a couple of them?

 Hound averts those blue apertures of his for a second before taking a few steps back from the railing. Instinctively, Astrid heads for the staircase and has soon joined him on the main floor.

 “Well… with, uh… with one of the guys, probably.”

 Astrid sizes him up. Puns aside, she doesn’t often do this that much anymore, now that she’s getting more and more used to him. Well, she does when they’re going at it - it adds to the eroticism for her, however fucked that means she is - but it’s been awhile since the distinct feeling of uneasiness at being so small and fragile has washed over her.

 Fifteen feet and change in height, she remembers as she gazes up at that million-year-old puppy dog face of his. And he’s still adorable when he’s sheepish.

 “I don’t know, Hound…” she screws up her mouth and glances over to his table. They’ve had a couple of good times on that thing, too, she notes. “I don’t know how I’d feel being between two big, metal bodies. One’s quite a bit for me to handle already, believe it or not.”

 “...So the idea of bringing in a third doesn’t freak you out at least?”

 It doesn’t, does it? Astrid thinks for a moment, remembering what it was like to be at AHQ with all those massive robot soldiers mulling about. Everyone was so nice to her. Very nice, actually. Courteous, personable, funny…

 Still, big difference between a human third and another Autobot. No pun intended.

 But she would be lying if she said that it hadn’t crossed her mind at least once. Hell, she’d be lying if the idea of being passed around a room of Hound’s closest friends like some prized, delicate novelty hadn’t crossed her mind at least once either.

 “I guess not,” she relents. “But. Actually, let’s sit on your berth to talk about this.”

 The mech nods, picking her up and heading to the lofty slab that he slept on and lowers her into his lap. She quickly snuggles up in the familiar spot between his thighs, lounging between them like the armrests of a sofa.

 “You were thinking about asking either Beach or Teebs, weren’t you?” Astrid squints at him, arching an eyebrow.

 The green mech above bends over a little so he can see her over the bulk of his chest, assembled, as it is, from pieces of grille and reformed bumper. “Well, I have been friends with them the longest out of anyone else here…”

 “Would either of them even be interested?

 “I don’t know, honestly. I wanted to ask you first.”

 A true gentleman. She bites back a smile. “And if they say no?”

 “Then that’s that, I suppose.”

 “And if one of them says yes.”

 “I’d give him a little crash course on human anatomy first,” he chuckles. She rolls her eyes at him and he backtracks. “But really, I’d sit him down and we’d talk about it. Would you… would you want to be part of that conversation?”

 “You know, I’m not sure. Part of me… would want it to be a surprise, honestly.”

 “My little thrill-seeker,” he half-rumbles, half-croons, letting his hand find its way to her thigh. Astrid puts her own on top of the massive digits. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 Though it’s more just a nagging in the back of her mind than a real concern, she has to ask anyways: “You sure this is going to be safe for me?”

 He scoops her up, then, maneuvering her upright in front of him, pressed up against that hard grille and bumper. Once again, they’re eye level. “If I thought it would be dangerous, I would never have asked.” It’s not quite his cabin-voice, but it’s almost just as warm and all-encompassing when he holds her like this.

 “We should probably talk about limits and stuff…”

 But his hand is already in her hair, crushing her lips against his as she struggles for purchase against the densely-folded angles of his bulk. After a few moments, he releases her and lowers himself down onto the berth, making sure she’s wound up seated on his chest.

 “After this,” he says with a boyish grin and a wink in his voice, revealing a bottle of lube that he’s taken out of subspace and is dangling between his thick fingers. “I want you naked from the waist down, sweetheart, and on the double.”

 “But what about my report?” she teases, arching her back and pressing her heat into him even more.

 But he’s already flipped up the top of the bottle and is squirting a small amount onto his tongue. “I think it can wait.”

 Never in a million years would Astrid have thought the sight of an Autobot applying KY jelly to his own mouth would get her going, but she knows what mind-blowing sensations are soon to follow. He doesn’t have to tell her twice.

 In record time she’s tossed aside her pants and underwear, and with deft hands he’s got her perched on his mouth, nose pressed into her pubic bone, and is working a miracle so profound with that slicked-up tongue of his that the Jeep ought to be canonized on the spot.

 He quickly has her panting and moaning above him, and he’s got to all but hold her down with those massive fingers of his as he thrusts up into her with his pointed glossa. Its firm, girthy strokes are formidable enough on their own, but as he curls it toward her g-spot with every withdrawal? Astrid’s going to lose her mind.

 It takes less than five minutes to get her off this way, and soon she’s shuddering and mewling as she straddles his face. Instinctively, her body tries to move away from the source of the sensation, but he holds her down, milking every last drop from her.

 “F-fuck,” she whines, when he finally lets her go.

 He licks his lips and cradles her as she waits out the remaining little tremors, the rakish smile on his face and deep-hued optics telling her that it’s definitely his turn, now.”You’ve never tasted better, Boots.”

 “I don’t think you’ve ever done better,” she breathes, chest still heaving. “Alright now, just… just give me one more minute.” She laughs, collapsing against him. Out of the corner of her eye she can see the gunmetal tower of his eager prick rising up past the expanse of his belly. It twitches in anticipation. “One more minute.”

 “You got it.” He maneuvers her so that she’s at least facing him again, and he plants a kiss on her crown as one of his hands reaches past her to do a few strokes of its own while he waits for his little human to catch her breath.

 Hound is thrilled when he delivers the news that one of the mechs has agreed to give the threesome a go, and when Astrid tries guessing which one, they decide to turn it into a little game: she’ll only find out who it is when he and Hound make their move. The other one is in the dark about it, so it’s decidedly against the rules to bring it up beforehand too.

 And the suspense is killing her.

 “Hey guys, welcome to Anchorage!” she greets the two vehicles as they drive in through the safety locks in the back of the warehouse. If they’ve got sensors like her mech does, then they’ll be able to tell that she’s beside herself with excitement and trepidation. She hopes that they don’t.

 “Didn’t notice last time I was here, but, you two do got yourselves a nice little place!” the black Land Rover lookalike declares as he transforms. She beams a smile up at the large mech - standing several feet taller than Hound - and trying to get a good look at his face to see if she can spot any tells there. He flashes one back, but nothing about him says that he’s the one.

 Behind him, Beachcomber does the same, slipping with surprising elegance out of his customized Suzuki Vitara vehicle mode. He’s a foot or two shorter than the Jeep, and the Vitara was likely the smallest street-legal off-road build he could find. “Ain’t no roof of stars, man, but this place is slick.” He smiles at her before she can do the same to him, giving a little nod as he does so. “Little cat,” he greets. Her stomach does a little flip-flop, but she steels herself - Beachcomber was just like that; nothing special there. He couldn’t be the one either, could he?

 Well, one of them has to be!

 Hound looks down at her from where he stands, just an arm’s length away, and gives her a little wink.

 “Thanks for joining us,” he says, gesturing to the space. It’s a bit tight for three giant robots, but it’ll do.

 Trailbreaker slaps Hound’s black and green shoulder. “Thanks for havin’ us. Now how about you break out the energon? I brought a little somethin’ for us to share.” With that a small cube appears in his hand, filled with a deep, rich purple; very different than the bright pink of their normal fare.

 “Shots?” Astrid guesses aloud with a grin.

 “Your lady’s sharp, man,” Trailbreaker lilts in that way of his; deep, jovial, and just a touch raspy around the edges. He’s got the accent of American newscaster English.

 Hound laughs, heading for his energon dispenser, grabbing three cubes from their rack.

 Beachcomber’s the first to get comfortable on the floor, back up against the berth, when he gestures to her. “Go grab some a’ your poison, little cat. Looks like it’s shapin’ up to be a gas around here already!”

 Astrid giggles at the blue mech’s slang, catching a quick glance at the way he’s sitting: arms on knees, legs apart. She knows Beach to be a present mech… he might be measured and attentive at other times, too.

 She heads for her own liquor cabinet in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shot glass, turning around in time to see Hound tossing a normal cube to each giant guest, before pulling up a chair from his table to complete the circle. Astrid drags a chair from her own dinette and sets it beside Hound’s huge leg and pours herself a shot.

 The Jeep is just finishing spiking his own drink with what she now knows to be high-grade, when she holds up her comparatively microscopic glass, looking from blue to black mech in turn. She tries to hide the twinkle in her eye.. “What should we toast to?”

 “To cargo planes!” Trailbreaker bellows. “No lights, no headroom, no problem.”

 The three Autobots burst into laughter, but nobody takes a sip yet.

 Beachcomber raises his cube. “To bent-eights that don’t know how to let a cat catch some zees,” he says, his voice low and cool at he shoots a look at Trailbreaker. She knows the small off-roader is sharper than he ever lets on.

 “Below the belt!” Teebs laughs, elbowing the blue mech.

 “Alright, alright,” Hound cuts in, a toothy grin on his face. “How about this: to old friends.”

 “And a new one, too,” Beachcomber adds, holding his energon to her. Astrid can’t help the smile from spreading on her face as she makes brief “eye” contact with the mech.

 “Hound, you green bastard, you’re such a sap. Good thing I can drink to that, though.”

 “Then drink already!” the Jeep chuckles, and they all take long draws from their cubes.

 Astrid downs her shot, coughing and clearing her throat afterward. It is, admittedly, not the smoothest stuff out there.

 “You alright over there?” Teebs asks, jerking his chin in her direction.

 “It - ahem! - it burns a little,” she chuckles, heat rising to her face.


 “Yeah, booze burns. Nobody told you that?”

 “Why in the heck would you people drink something that burns?

 “Because it burns good,” she says devilishly, pouring herself a second shot.

 Trailbreaker lifts up his cube again. “To not understanding humans sometimes!”

 Once again, the other two roar with laughter - their engines a little too - and Hound glances her way to make sure that she’d taken no offense. To his surprise, though, she’s lifting her glass to her lips.

 “What?” she shrugs up at him. “We don’t understand us either!”

 And so the night goes on. Astrid commits herself to four shots and no more - she won’t be of any use to anyone as a sloppy drunk - and is pleasantly buzzed until the stars finally start coming out at around 9.

 The three mechs swap stories about old times; recalling hijinks at former assignments, laughing about missions gone hilariously awry, and remembering comrades long-gone. And when it comes to goings-on at the Ark, apparently there’s plenty of gossip to go around.

 It’s almost 10, though, and she’s beginning to wonder if anything will even happen tonight. Hound never said when they’d planned it, either; it could be tomorrow or the next day for all she knows.

 But the anticipation is getting to her, and she’s finding herself slowly sitting more and more suggestively as the evening wears on, not even sure if any of them will find the gesture appealing or not, but arching her back to accentuate her chest and rear is what feels right either way. Hound, at least, picks up on her subtle change in body language, and he gives her a nudge with his giant foot. Damn tease.

 Soon, though, the wait appears to be over. Beachcomber stands up, and hands his empty cube to Hound, who takes it and sets it beside his own on the table.

 “Well, better jet if I’m gonna catch that light show tonight,” he rumbles, thumbing at the back door. Oh right, she remembers. The aurora borealis is supposed to be showing up tonight. Hound sticks out his hand and the two do a little shake.

 “Just be quiet on your way back in, Astrid will probably be asleep.”

 “Sure thing, daddy-o. Catch you cats in the morning,” he says, transforming mid-step and initiating the locking mechanism.

 So it’s Trailbreaker?? Astrid looks over to him, her tongue darting out to glide across her upper lip, as soon as the three of them are alone. But he’s not looking at her; in fact, he’s getting up from the floor and is pulling up a chair at the big boys’ table to continue shooting the shit with Hound.

 Who is it?!

 Neither of them??

 Will I even find out tonight?

 Her heart is racing and skin warm, but her head is swimming. This is exactly how he’d planned it, isn’t it? She pouts silently, looking up at the Jeep. Astrid gets up too, bottle and glass in hand, and heads for the kitchen.

 “Hey, where are you going?” the green giant asks, taking the last sip from his own cube.

 “Just putting the booze away,” she calls over from behind the island, trying not to sound disappointed. “You know how I don’t like leaving things on the floor around here. Big feet can make big messes, after all.”

 “Well, come back when you’re done,” he says with a little wave of his hand.

 Her heart jumps again, and when she’s rinsed out the shotglass, she’s back again near his feet, waiting to be picked up and placed on their table.

 But she’s jumps when a pair of hands worm under her arms from behind to lift her up. A big pair of hands. A big pair of sturdy, gentle, red hands.

 And when her feet are flat on the table’s surface, she turns, greeted by the affable smile of the black-faced mech. A blush colors her whole damn body and if Teebs can’t sense it, then the Jeep sure as hell can.

 “So Astrid,” he says, voice languid. “Hound here tells me that you’ve got an interesting hobby.”

 She cocks an eyebrow at him. “Did he?”

 “Yeah, says you’re an adventurous little human that’s willing to try anything at least once…”

 Is it happening? I think this is happening!

 “I think you might be mistaking me for him,” she replies, biting back a grin as she shoots a knowing look over at the Jeep.

 Hound’s just sitting there, arms crossed, with a look on his face that’s both smug and enraptured at what’s going on before him.

 Looks like the night’s still young.

 He leans in a little more, both arms resting on the table now. “Oh, well, I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in kissing another mech, then, would you?”

 Time’s slowed down, and it could be her, but it seems that he’s accentuating his mouth as he speaks; from what his great big glossa is doing behind those thinly parted dental plates, the way his lips curve around and terminate at each end in a crease and even on one side, a dimple.

 She worries her bottom lip between two teeth, practically effervescent with excitement, and takes a glance back at her primary. He simply raises his brow plates at her. “I wouldn’t want to get between you and such a generous offer, Boots.”

 “In that case,” Astrid murmurs, turning back toward the bigger, showier mech. She takes a few shaking steps forward and holds up her hand. He takes it in his own, lowering his head so that they’re about at eye-level.

 I can’t believe it, she thinks, closing the distance between their lips. She gives a small kiss to his bottom one, moving her free hand to his cheek, then letting her tongue dart out to lick at the warm dermaplating.

 “Mm,” he intones from deep in his chest, sing-song-like.

 Distantly Astrid wonders if Hound is coaching him over their silent electronic connection - he probably is - but when she hears a harsh vent from behind her and the sound of him shifting in his seat, it almost doesn’t matter.

 She kisses and sucks and drags her teeth against him, and after a moment he opens up too, tongue grazing the edge of her teeth. The little human giggles, giving in for more go, and before she knows it she’s got his face covered in fingerprints and breath fog.

 Astrid pulls away a little, looking up at his blue visor, and they smile at each other.

 “That was pretty damn nice,” Teebs rumbles gently. Astrid’s stomach does a little somersault at the specialist’s words of approval. For some reason, being recognized - seen - in such a basic human way by an Autobot other than Hound has her aglow with, well, happiness. It makes her feel good to be flesh and bone in a world inhabited by bigger, hardier beings.

 “Yeah,” she breathes, suddenly coy at this sudden rush of pride.

 “Hey c’mere,” comes the Jeep’s voice from behind her, and his timbre is husky. The way he says it sends a pleasant tingle down between her thighs.

 Astrid obeys, stepping over to Hound now, who takes her up in his hands and does some diving in of his own. The green Autobot is much more practiced than Trailbreaker, and he leaves her panting with her lip caught between his teeth. It’s almost enough to draw blood, but they agreed earlier not to play as rough as they might otherwise, and her lip is left only red and swollen.

 “You ready to take your clothes off?” he asks, low and rumbling, into her ear. His big hands are stroking her backside.

 “I bet you’re even cuter without ‘em,” the black mech purrs from across the table.

 “If you boys insist,” Astrid winks, and begins to undress between them. She tosses her shirt at Hound and her pants at Trailbreaker; they each snatch the garments out of the air and set them aside. “But it is a little chilly in here.”

 “I think we’ll be able to warm you up,” Hound grins, getting up to stand near his friend as she discards her bra and panties.

 “Come on,” Trailbreaker beckons, leaning back and gesturing to his lap. Chest out, she skips over to him, jumping down onto one of the black mech’s silver thighs as his arms bring her close. With Hound, she’d be almost neck-level here; but with Trailbreaker, she’ll have to be on tip-toes to even see past the edge of his chest. Trailbreaker spins around in the chair so that he’s facing the Jeep now, and she is firmly trapped between the two huge, metal bodies.

 Another jolt of anticipation. Only this time, there’s no underwear to mask it.

 “Somebody’s getting a little excited,” Hound deftly notes. Her heart skips a beat when he runs a thick finger down her spine, pouting when he doesn’t go anywhere near the hypersensitive flesh.

 “So you humans have a few sensitive areas, don’cha?” Trailbreaker murmurs, cupping her rear with his hand. Astrid looks up at him - there’s just something irresistibly warm and inviting about that face of his, and it makes her trust him completely. The big mech, for all his bombast, wouldn’t hurt a fly. “I hear that this is one…” he continues, tracing along the side of her neck, and instinctively she gives into it, like a cat being scratched. “And that this is another…” The hand at her bottom begins to move, slowly groping and squeezing. She can’t help but arch into that too. “But Hound says that this -” Astrid gives a little mewl as one of his fingers slips between her asscheeks and slides down to the slick heat throbbing there. She tries to grasp at something on his chest, but the mech’s a lot smoother than Hound is, and she can only grip now with the pads of her fingers splayed over the black paint.

 “T...Trailbreaker,” she sighs.

 “Feel good?” The Jeep asks from behind her, his hand gripping her side as he leans in to nibble at her shoulder.

 “Uh huh,” is all she can muster.

 “She’s wet as a puddle, bud,” Teebs says over her, and there’s another surge of blood to her cunt. Something about the way he’s talking about her in the third person is fucking intoxicating.

 “Now’s a good time to slip one in,” the more experienced mech suggests.

 Trailbreaker does as he’s told, and Astrid is suddenly made familiar with how much thicker the big mech’s fingers are. She tenses up at the pressure, but being filled like this is pure bliss and a loud moan escapes her. He pauses.

 “You alright? I’m not hurtin’ you, am I?” he asks gently.

 She catches her breath against him, fogging up his slick chest. “No,” she breathes, looking up to see nothing but patience written on his face. Hound’s hand is stroking her hair.

 I could just fucking die, they’re both so sweet!

 “Good.” The smile returns.

 He withdraws his finger from her, then plunges it back experimentally, and she gives a little cry again.

 “How does she feel?” Hound asks, lust dripping from his voice.

 I think I know just what he’s getting out of this arrangement, now.

 “Soft as hell,” Teebs rumbles as he slowly and deeply fingerfucks her. “And frag, tight too. Though she is loosening up a little bit, still: tight. I don’t think she could take my middle finger.”

 “Yeah, humans are a lot warmer and softer on the inside,” Hound replies. God, they’re doing it again, talking about her like that! “Just behind her public bone should be a little mound with a spongy texture. You feel it?”

 Trailbreaker withdraws most of his finger and, studying her face closely, strokes at the very spot. Astrid bucks, but Hound’s hand is quick to hold her in place. “Fuck,” she gasps. The black mech holds up his hand so she has something to steady herself against, then does it again. It’s not long before he has her writhing and moaning breathlessly against him.

 Hound has a hand splayed across her back, and when he leans in to whisper into her ear, she’s reminded of just how big these guys are. These are the very same hands that ripped open a house, once; the same hands that could lift and throw an Escalade. But here she is, being held and supported by them as she gets the fucking of a lifetime.

 “I love the sounds you’re making,” the green mech murmurs, and Trailbreaker adjusts his rhythm: his strokes are even slower and deeper now. She feels like he’s pushing the very air from her lungs with every thrust.

 “Well, when you’re being… being shared by two handsome mechs - hhnn - with magic - ah! - fingers…”

 He lifts away from her, though, and she can feel the vented air that rushes from him. “Trailbreaker, you mind if I..?”

 “Be my guest,” the black mech smiles.

 A moment later, something warm and hard touches her lower back and she knows it’s not a finger.

 “You know, that’s a pretty impressive piece of equipment 'Jack built for you,” Trailbreaker says, getting a good look at it for what is likely the first time. This may be Hound’s first time letting anyone else even see it, as a matter of fact.

 “I won’t lie,” the Jeep murmurs, lazily frotting against her. She can hear the concentration in his voice. “It is a lot of fun.”

 For a few moments they fall silent, as the big black mech continues thrusting up into her, and Hound slides his holo-cock up against her spine. The room’s not chilly anymore.

 “She’s getting close,” the Jeep murmurs. Astrid has begun to lower herself down into something resembling all fours against Trailbreaker, arching her back into both of their ministrations.

 “Sure looks like it,” Teebs rumbles, looking down at her as he adjusts his pace, studying her body language as he does so.

 “Go on, Boots,” the Jeep grunts behind her. “Tell him how you like it.”

 His words almost send her careening over the edge by themselves, but she wants to give Trailbreaker the pleasure.

 “H-harder,” she mewls, gasping. Muscles are beginning to tighten in her belly. “And hold me against you… please…”

 All he needs to do is sandwich her between his massive hand and smooth abdomen, cradling her, almost, as his right hand continues to pump in and out of her. She hunches her shoulders and brings her forehead to him, making herself impossibly smaller as the orgasm rips through her hot, fleshy body. Astrid shudders against him, jerking and writhing and moaning, but he is physically unmoved - she’s like a mouse there, in his hands.

 “Well wasn’t that something,” Teebs gently chuckles above her, hitching her up to plant an oversized kiss on her hair and look her in the eye. “You’re a lot stronger than you look, I gotta say.”

 She giggles lazily, turning beet red under that adoring gaze of his. “Still couldn’t break free of that grip, though.”

 “I’m afraid you weren’t even close.”

 “That’s the thing about humans,” Hound murmurs behind her with a smile on his voice. “Your fragility belies your strength, and your strength belies your fragility. Not a dull moment to be had around you, that’s for sure.”

 “Well, what about you, Mister Specialist?” Astrid says, looking up at the bright blue visor above her. “Would you like for me to return the favor?”

 Trailbreaker grins and cocks his head at Hound.

 “Hey, didn’t I already say something about not wanting to get in the way of generous offers?” he laughs.

 The black SUV looks back down at her, tiptoes barely holding her up against his chest and sweaty fingers leaving streaks. “Now I don’t have any fancy equipment like your boyfriend over there does, sweetheart…”

 “Well that boyfriend of mine used to say that I have some magic fingers of my own too, you know. I just hope that I’m not out of practice!”

 “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Trailbreaker says with a toothy smile, and she can somehow tell that he’s narrowing his optics at her from behind that visor. Let’s see what you got, his face says as he hikes his chin up a few inches.

 Oh yes, she remembers this.

 Bracing her bare feet against the hard metal of his hands she reaches upward and snakes her fingers into the recesses of his neck plates, feeling for the telltale texture of the spark fluid mains on either side. It takes her a few seconds, but she finds them, and when she does, she’s greeted by a startling jerk from the hulking mech underneath her.

 “Wow that’s nice,” he murmurs, apparently pleasantly surprised at the sensation.

 “She looks good against you like that,” Hound rumbles behind her. She gives a little yelp when she feels his fingers slide between her thighs, gently rocking back and forth against her. A little breathy moan escapes her and she presses her chest into the black mech.

 “She certainly feels good too,” Trailbreaker purrs, parting his mouth as his vents begin to cycle more air.

 Trailbreaker doesn’t move and touch and grab quite as much as Hound does, but that’s because Hound’s different from most of his fellows - that’s part of why he was so attracted to humans to begin with. Teebs, as curious and open-minded as he is, is still a little more traditional. A little less… physical.

 She doesn’t have much time to be disappointed, because even though he’s not the sensory glutton that the Jeep is, she can tell that he is in robot heaven right now from the way his visor is flickering; the way his denta are ground together from behind that lazy smile of his; the way his internals are rumbling with their own sort of building heat.

 “Look at her go,” the Jeep practically breathes, voice unbearably husky, with static nipping at the heels of his words. There’s a little sense of urgency in his voice.

 He removes his hand from her cunt - wet as it is again - and the emptiness between her thighs feels wrong. She wants something thick and hard there, even if it’s not trying to make her come.

 There’s a sound from behind her, and she can hear Hound rumble contentedly: “Mmm.” A shiver passes through her when she realizes that he’d licked his finger clean.

 “That… that good huh?” Trailbreaker is struggling to keep his wits about him, but his voice is nearing a panting drawl. Fuck, that’s hot. He maneuvers one of his hands back to where Hound’s was a moment ago, and all she can think is thick, thick, so goddamn thick as he squeezes his huge finger between her ass cheeks, probably covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Suddenly her body is begging for another orgasm. He removes it after making sure its good and coated before bringing the digit to his mouth, and, making sure she’s watching, slips it between his lips.

 “Sweet,” he murmurs in a very low voice. “Salty… and a little somethin’ else…”

 “I hope you’re up for seconds, Boots, because I’m goin’ in,” Hound chuckles. She can hear him do something behind her.

They must be talking to each other over that connection of theirs, because Hound gets down on his knees and Trailbreaker spreads his legs to give him a little more room. Astrid has no idea what to expect, giving a little cry when Hound takes up a thigh in each gunmetal hand and lifts her out of Trailbreaker’s grasp.

 “Hey!” she laughs, suddenly held aloft by Hound’s grip from behind, and her own hands propping her up against Trailbreaker’s black and red chest.

 “Pretend I’m not even here.”

 She gives a little yelp when she finds his nose digging into the soft tissue just beneath her tailbone and his teeth grazing her mons. The yelp is followed by a breathy burst of a moan as she's filled up with his girthy glossa, and every single inch of her, inside and out, feels exposed now to the gentle giants.

 And she couldn't be in kinder, more capable hands.

 Trailbreaker is beginning to lose it, though, and she can feel the faint little shocks nipping at her fingers through the spark conduit housing. She works him harder, faster, because she knows that's what humans like and doesn't have the faintest clue how she might approximate a pleasurable waveform with her fingers dancing and sliding along the length of those broad, firm cables. So she does what she knows, and it seems to be good enough for him.

The hulking mech above her comes with a long, rumbling groan. The metal under her chest grows hot to the touch - almost painfully hot - and the mains under her hands send more substantial shocks shooting into her. There’s a buzzing in her ears. And if an electrical current can be described as being gentle but firm, then for a brief moment her world is nothing but that sensation rushing through the marrow of her bones. It feels like there’s static in her breath when she exhales, sparks in her stomach, and stars in her eyes. Holy shit it feels... good.

And it pushes her over the edge, too. Hound quickens his ministrations between her legs, and the two different kinds of all-encompassing stimulation - one very human, the other very not - is a lot for her little body to handle.

"Hah! Hnn! Nngh!"

She shudders and spasms between the two metal giants, distantly aware of her rising pitch, her little hands grasping futilely at the smooth expanse before her - but all she can really feel is that massive tongue like iron between her legs, the pair of hands splaying her open and another pair holding her crushingly close.

She’s done sooner than he is. His climax tapers off almost lazily, and after she's caught her breath Trailbreaker is still coming down as he strokes her and rumbles and crackles with electricity. A spark arcs between the parted denta in his open mouth, which seems to feel good to him: he licks at where the thread of electricity sprouted from.

And yet, based on what he'd once told her about Cybertronian orgasms, Astrid has the distinct feeling that he's held back tremendously for her sake - she remembers the sensation of being enveloped in an EM field and the sheer weight of even Hound's carefully controlled bloom had her almost clawing to get out of the suddenly suffocating room. There was none of that this time.

Trailbreaker's gentle rumbling brings her back to the present, though, and he looks down at her with a wink in his voice.

"Now that was nice."

"Yeah?" She's suddenly a little shy - discovering first-hand just how different Hound really is from his fellows makes her realize that she doesn't hardly know a damn thing about pleasuring a Cybertronian. Or whether she's even capable of doing that great of a job without being robotic herself.

"Would this face lie to you?" He grins in that undeniable way of his and kisses her forehead. (That's the Jeep’s signature move - Hound MUST have told him to do that.)

The mech behind her chuckles, voice still husky. "Don't answer that, Boots."

And in an instant she's whisked away from the black mech and hoisted up into her green giant's arms, where he cranes his neck forward and captures her mouth in a hard goddamn kiss. He lets her up for air and she looks over to Teebs, who's lounging against the back of the chair with his head cocked as he watches them with a smile that says damn, look how happy those two saps are.

"Hound, you look like you could use a little alone time with your girl there." He gestures at his fellow and the two of them look down at the same time, eyes and optics greeted with the sight of a twitching gunmetal cock at full attention.

Before Astrid has time to admit just how tired she is, though, Hound beats her to it.

"I'm afraid that we've got a little more stamina than humans do, Teebs," he says warmly, stroking her hip. "I imagine your legs are feeling like... what is it... Jello?"

"Let's just say that I've taken two and I'll call you in the morning," she happily mumbles against him.

“Well he's patient,“ Hound says resolutely, and she can hear the faint, muffled sound of him slipping the holo away. “And besides, I got a… different kind of satisfaction tonight.” He chuckles a little, almost sheepish. “Guess I like watching more than I thought I would.”

Trailbreaker just smiles and takes his own shammy out of subspace to begin buffing himself out. Hound sets her onto the table to do the same. Astrid yawns and realizes that she's really beat.

Teebs seems to glance her way out of the corner of his eye because he pauses to twist around in the chair.

“Hey,” he says, quiet and rumbling. She tips her head upward to meet his gaze and he almost looks like he's beaming. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

 “Sharing what?”

 “That cute human orgasm of yours.”

 “...Oh.” She blushes deeply and takes a quick glance at Hound, who's smiling like his spark is going to explode from happiness, pride, and lust. “W-well thanks for making me feel safe enough to have some.”

 “Any time, little lady.”

Any time?

Oh dear.

 She falls asleep in a matter of minutes after Hound’s tucked her into bed upstairs with his holo. He’s fully returned to his body, which is reclining sideways on the berth, with his fingers woven together behind his head.


He still can’t believe what just happened, and he can’t believe how much he enjoyed himself in spite of barely being an active participant. His CPU is awash in hazy depictions of all manner of lecherousness  - some real, and some imagined.

So how long’s that been on your bucket list, ya green bastard? Teebs sends over a shared comm.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t occur to me as soon as we became an item.

Too good for traditional spark stimulation now, huh?

Hound scoffs aloud at this. You kidding me? It’s a snorefest compared to the wonders of tactility.

Ah, there’s no accounting for taste. Still, she’s got some wicked little fingers, I’ll tell you that much.

Just then, Hound senses Beachcomber pull up and enter the locks. A few moments later, the compact Vitara drives in, and their blue comrade practically slides into his biped mode with barely a sound.

How were the lights, Beach?

Sure was a kick, man. Keen even in infrared! He takes a seat at the table across from Trailbreaker, and a little smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks from one mech to the other. So what’s the tale, nightingale? How about your little experiment? The both of you look cuh-razy totaled.

Like I said, Trailbreaker wistfully sighed over the comm. Wicked little fingers.

Sure was a gas trying to play it cool all evening, Beachcomber chuckles. She was squirmin’ just thinking about it!

Hound feels the tug of the holo-device, but he wills the spark fluid to stay firmly in the realm of their proper conduits. I take it you’re still interested?

If she is, you can lay it on me, Clyde.

Hound ponders this with a little laugh, stroking at his chin. A world of possibilities have just opened up to him. Well, guys, how does tomorrow morning sound?