Good afternoon! I got road rash/burn on my knees and hands so if it seems like things are missing or if there's kind of sentence/grammer goofiness it's from my hands. [They hurt painfully. ;-;] A request by two people via dori and limey. Hope you all enjoy!

WARNING: YAOINESS WITH BONDAGE! [Only temporary]

Another hot summer day on the Yeager ranch, all the Autobot's (minus Drift he must've scuddled to his "spot" again for meditation. Flipping cyberninja!) were sitting in the barn, flat screen turned on and Bee was surfin the channels, his huge fingers pressing the Autobot sized remote control. Hound and Crosshairs were reclining on two berths while Bee sat on the floor, back against Hound's berth. Crosshairs was bored out of his processor! It didn't help every time he was bored his mind drifted off to the samurai.

His blue armor would glow in the moon but beam in the bright sunlight. His golden face plates were soft and composed, blue optics that would put the ocean's beauty to shame, but the voice was the best feature. It was low and rumbled like the waterfall they both went to for safety. Crosshairs would've given anything to at least touch Drift's aft or even better-

"Hey check this out!" Bee knocked Crosshairs foot and pointed to the screen. On the screen was Mexican music, commentary in Spanish; there were men riding horses with lasso's in their hands, whirling around their head. They were yipping and "yee-haw!"ing as they chased a mini cow all over the arena until one of them wearing a plaid red shirt got the lasso around the creatures neck; capturing the beast, he jumped off the horse and used the rest of the rope to tie up the available limbs. A hog tie if Crosshairs remembered correctly. It was one of the disturbing things he picked up while scanning the internet for information to survive on this mudball of a planet.

Mulling over that one site that did offer the hog tied position, a plan hatched into his head as he continued watching the cowboy's tying up calves and letting them go after the catch. Crosshairs stood and grabbed thick cabling from a stash of Hound's appliances. The two bots paid no mind to Crosshairs swift exit, optics glued to the television screen.

It had taken him a while but finally Crosshairs had found the samurai at a nearby forest. In the Lotus position, he could hear the faint humming sometimes used in Drift's "inner peace." With a smirk Crosshairs approached not even trying to be sneaky, his lasso in one hand, the other hand fingering the other half connected to his hip.

"Crosshairs, if this is not important, please go elsewhere." It was a mistake Drift never turned back to look the mech. A wicked grin appeared on the paratrooper's face, raising the loop and swinging it around his head before letting it go. He whooped as the loop was secured around Drift's neck the blue mech caught off guard, servos immediately going to the cord around his neck. It wasn't strangling him; no, Crosshairs wouldn't allow that.

With another shout, Crosshairs jumped onto Drift's back, holding onto his shoulders as he pulled off his makeshift ten gallon hat, yelling and shouting as loud as he could.

"Crosshairs!"

"Yee-haw! This is more fun than ridin' Spike!" Drift tried everything to get the larger mech off his shoulders, batting his hands at the legs encircling his waist. Crosshairs smiled and seized both hands, yanking them behind the samurai's back and wrapped them in a complex knot.

"Crosshairs?!" Drift shouted as he felt the center of universe tip backwards; his practice with balance didn't pay off as he fell into the long golden grains. It's comfy and he was nearly hidden. Nearly. Struggling against the bonds, Drift tried to escape but everytime he pulled down, the loop around his neck tightened. Knowing this plan won't work, he let himself up and came face to face with Crosshairs.

"What-?"

"You obviously need a defrag." Crosshairs was lieing through his teeth. He really wanted to frag this delicious piece of aft but knowing Drift, he was probably sick of being the valve mech. Letting his hands softly trail down the blue armor, a soft moan was elicited from Drift. The soft touch to his sensitive plating made Drift moan but not squirm. It was going to change in a minute.

Due to being deemed "the medic" of the team, the paratrooper had the priviledge to make his fingers elicit sensitive pulses; those came in handy when there was shrapnel embedded in a person's spark chamber. With a mental click, those hands sent faint but effective pulses, aiming at the seams where Drift's pelvice met with his legs. The faint pulses made Drift simultaneously gasp, squirm, and his spike was building pressure.

Those were the signs his plan was working and it was making Crosshairs valve want to be taken by this mech's spike. His fingers slowly worked till it was tracing the edges of where his spike panel was, eliciting a shaky moan.

"P-please!" Drift whispered, tension building in his spine, pleasure surfing his neural networks, heat building in his gut, and he wanted it to be dispelled quickly. Ignoring the quiet plea, Crosshairs leaned down and nibbled on Drift's neck cables, a shiver rewarding his actions. A smirk was pressed against Drift's neck cables and with heat flushing his metallic cheeks, Drift begged like a beggar on a street.

"Please! Please frag me!" Drift was squriming and crying out as Crosshairs fiddled around with both his neck and spike panel; hands working on the panel, glossa and teeth nibbling on his cables. The samurai wished he wasn't tied like this. He wanted his hands to roam freely against Crosshairs abdomen, chest, aft, everywhere! This wouldn't be bad but knowing Crosshairs was dominant so that meant-

"Drift open ya spike panel." Drift's optics widened. Was he being serious?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Ah'm sure."

With no other words uttered between the two, Drift opened his spike panel and Crosshairs bared his valve. Drift got an awesome look at the valve, already dripping with need. It was a marvelous sight, never in his existence would he look at another valve and be spiking it. Especially one of the most handsome and restless mech's on base. Crosshairs didn't connect yet, he frowned knowing this will be uncomfortable with the wrist's being tied a bit too tightly and near strangulation during this session.

"Sit up." A command that was immediately obeyed, Drift struggling to do so. Crosshairs put a hand on Drift's back and pulled him closer, ultimately helping the samurai sit straight and tall. The sensitive fingers were deactivated, now fiddling with the knot restraining the hands.

"Why did you do this? I do not understand why you could not just ask me." Drift muttered, his fans nearly cloaking his static vocalizer. A smug smile appeared as the knot was successfully untied and slide the cable off Drift's wrists and the loop came undone from the prone mech's neck.

"Ya always run off when Ah try to ask ya." Crosshairs growled seductively taking both of the samurai's hands and intertwining their fingers together. Drift let a faint smile appear before claiming Crosshairs lips in a passionate kiss, slipping his glossa in and battling for dominance. Crosshairs followed that lead thinking, 'When the hell did he get so possessive?' A searing combination of heat and pain made the paratrooper cringe, nearly biting Drift's glossa.

He didn't expect him to be so big! Especially for being the second to smallest member of the team. Drift was nice enough to not move instead, he pulled back with darkened optics and smiled again.

"What made you become interested in being penetrated?"

"Ah figured you were tired of being on bottom."

"That is true, I like the change-up."

He started moving, hands still intertwined, and Crosshairs felt his valve grasp Drift's spike hungrily earning a strangled gasp from his partner and causing him to slowly increase his thrusts. Every node for Crosshairs was on fire! It made his inside's turn into knots, heat pooling into him, and made him pant and mewl with every movement. This was amazing!

'Note ta self: make sure Drift spike's me from now on.' Hips met hips roughly, roughly grinding and meeting, they both squeezed each other's hands as tightly as they could, enough to dent each other.

Drift nearly lost his mind, optic's flashing dangerously as the passion was making him nearly turn into his Decepticon mode. The eyes turned a dangerous red, the sex turning rougher. Not that Crosshairs minded; he loved rough sex just he didn't want Deadlock to rip him into pieces during the sex. Drift cried out as he accomplished overload, smashing into Crosshairs fiery valve until he too came came but more silently than the samurai. Actually he collapsed, trying his best not to land on the unconscious mech. His hands went to each side of Drift's helm, the optic's now dark with recharge.

Getting himself off the spike, Crosshairs winced. Well that was great but painful. He took a cloth from his subspace and cleaned himself off, not wanting to walk back to the barn with signs of a recent frag and being teased by Hound and Bee. Rolling his eyes at the imaginary taunts, Crosshairs put his interface panel back on and put the cloth away before pulling out a datapad. He plugged it into a port on Drift's arm and tapped a few simple keys, spike going back into its housing and the panel closing.

Satisfied, Crosshairs walked away, thinking he should do more surprise sex for Drift.

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