Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Generation 1.
Warning: MechxMech! If you don't like-! ... Why are you here if you don't like slash? o.O
First Aid had had enough. He didn't care if this was normal, it was driving him to the brink of sanity! A couple of weeks ago, seemingly "out of the blue", he had had a dream about Ratchet. He didn't think anything of the dream at first, since it was just Ratchet giving him a medical examination. But then the examination took a turn for the worse when Ratchet said that he needed to check pressure points on his body. And he was fine with it until Ratchet had pressed down on his hips. First Aid's hips bucked up instinctively as he giggled.
"Ratchet," he whined before giggling again.
"Yes, my sweet spark?"
First Aid tried to stay still at that comment, but Ratchets hands were not helping. His lip components twitched. "My hips are not a pressure point," he giggled out.
Ratchet smirked. "Oh? Then why are you reacting this way?"
"It's natural, doctor," he teased lightly.
"Really? Tell me, First Aid, is this reaction natural?" First Aid gasped before moaning when Ratchet's glossa started to trace his hips.
"R-R-Ratchet..." He tried to squirm away when Ratchet suddenly pressed down on his hips harder.
"N-n-n sweet spark. You don't want to insult your bondmate, now would you?"
"B-b-b-bondmate?"
Ratchet smiled sadly as he reached up so that their lip components were inches apart. He lifted his hand to lightly hold the left side of First Aid's face. "I know you're still getting used to the term. I am your first, after all." His smile widened. "Maybe this will help," he whispered lowly before kissing him deeply. First Aid moaned when Ratchet added his glossa, letting him be dominant. He breathed heavily when Ratchet pulled away. Ratchet licked his audio, making First Aid gasp. "Was that helpful, sweet spark? Or do you still need persuasion?" Ratchet chuckled low in his audio when First Aid moaned and bucked his hips when he started tracing circles on his port. "Open up, sweet spark. The doctor needs to examine you thoroughly. Every delicious, delicate wire."
Needless to say, when First Aid woke up he was beyond confused. He quickly decided to brush it off, figuring that the dream meant that he was nervous about the routine examination in the next solar cycle. The examination went fine since he had a chance to take a long cold shower in the wash racks before going to the med bay.
What First Aid didn't expect was that his...feelings toward Ratchet would continue to grow. He didn't dream about Ratchet for long periods of time anymore, but he would have incredibly short fantasies...on the job. He had tried to ignore his arousal whenever he had seen Ratchet...which was every solar cycle, considering that they worked together. His arousal was becoming unbearable and embarrassing, since he didn't know how or when he could possibly have time to relieve it.
His gestalt tried to help, but that only made him more embarrassed. He knew that they were concerned, but he should be able to control this himself! He knew that it was bad when he commed Optimus to tell him that he couldn't attend the annual monthly meeting because of it. He had told Optimus that he didn't feel well, and since he attended every meeting before that ontime, it wasn't a problem...But his arousal was a problem. His gestalt had gotten so frustrated by him that they were seriously considering tying him to Hot Spot's berth and relieving him in as many times and in just as many ways possible. It was only after the meeting when Ratchet came and asked him if he was okay, with genuine concern in his optics, that made him seriously consider his gestalts offer.
The arousal was at it's peak. If he could smell his lubricant, then he had a pretty good idea that Ratchet could too. He just prayed to Primus, sweet Primus, that he didn't...or did and take full responsibility for it. But he really couldn't handle this anymore! It was at the point where he was considering facing himself in the middle of the med bay, to the pit if anyone saw or not.
First Aid's head collided with the table in front of him. If the arousal didn't make him insane soon, he was pretty sure that his thoughts would. They had grown to be surprisingly...not at all innocent...since that first dream. If he wasn't seeing visuals, he was hearing things that were oh-so-wrong and yet oh-so-right. Primus! What in the pit did I do to tick you off? Was it that I was letting Ratchet stay up when he should have been recharging? Recharging... "Oh Primus," he groaned.
"First Aid?" First Aid held back a choked sob when he heard Ratchet behind him. That's it! Primus hates me! "Are you okay?" No, Ratchet, I am not slaggin' okay. I have been fantasizing about you for the past few earth weeks, and at this point I am seriously considering facing you into a wall. First Aid whined in distress. Primus, I think I just snapped. "First Aid!" Ratchet cried out in alarm before placing his hands on his shoulder plating. "What-?"
"Let go!" First Aid screammed before the Unicron-forsaken chair made him loose his balance as he tried to stand up and brought Ratchet down with him. First Aid stared up at Ratchet, processor spinning. Ratchet had him pinned in a position that he had wanted to happen for the past several weeks. First Aid's optics, unbeknownst to him, turned purple as his arousal took over. "Slaggit, Ratchet, let go of me!"
"Not until you tell me what is wrong with you! You've been avoiding me for weeks! And now you miss the annual meeting, which you never miss. What has been bothering you?"
"Get off me, you fragger! This is all your fault!" First Aid finally just started crying.
"First Aid, what is with you? What's my fault? What did I do to make you despise me so much?"
"I don't-" He sobbed. "Despise you-you fraggin' glitch!"
Ratchet growled as his hands moved from First Aid's wrists to his hips, making First Aid moan. "R-Ratchet..."
"Don't take out your inability to control your hormones on me, First Aid," Ratchet growled.
First Aid moaned again, Ratchet's growling only making things worse. "What-what are you-?"
"You've been avoiding me for weeks. You missed the meeting. You blank out into space. On top of it all, your lubricant has been painfully obvious to me for the past two earth weeks. Slaggit, First Aid, why didn't you tell me about this problem? I would've helped you if you just asked."
Of all the questions that Ratchet could have asked him, that was not one of them. "I was-I didn't think-I can't-I don't-"
"Easy, First Aid," Ratchet said gently as he caressed the side of First Aid's face, thumb gently gliding over his face mask. "Go slow." I don't want to go slow. I want you to thrust into me until I can't stand.
First Aid groaned as his hands covered his burning faceplates. "Just fix this, Ratchet, please," First Aid begged from behind his hands. "I'm loosing my processor. You can tease me all you want later, just do something." Preferably as many times as possible. "Quickly. It's getting worse." To prove his point, he placed his arms above his head to show that he would surrender himself to Ratchet if. He just. Slaggin'. Moved!
Well, Ratchet moved alright…just not in a way that First Aid expected. He was pushed into a closet. He remained stuck in the closet when Ratchet closed the door quickly behind his stumbling form, leaving him alone in complete darkness.
Author's note: So...yeah...first time writing this type of thing. Please tell me how it is so far!
Please let me know if I got a Cybertronian term wrong. ^ ^'