It's only gonna get better. I've given up on having a life.
This is seriously the sweetest pairing. I can't get much fluffier than this.
Also, Wheeljack is a little shit. He will always be a little shit and I love that little shit.
They made sure to not be too far out that they couldn't be reached on the comm. link incase anything serious were to happen and they needed to get back quickly. The space that they found was over a banking and in somewhat of a ditch. This would make it more private and less likely to be scoped out by wandering Decepticons in the sky. Now that they found the perfect location, Bulkhead found himself going shy and unsure of what to do. Intimacy of any kind was still very new to him.
Wheeljack's attempt to keep a poker face seemed to only fail when he was around Bulkhead. This was a testament to how easily his dear friend could bring out a wide variety of emotions in him. The innocent confusion he was putting out, along with the clear lack of experience was nothing short of adorable. With no intentions of going all the way, this was going to prove interesting for the older mech. More of an experiment than anything to see what it's like and find out if they were doing the right thing by exploring their mutual romantic interest.
"So… How do I do this?" Bulkhead asked, feeling awkward.
"How do you think?" Wheeljack smirked and gave a quick knock with his knuckles over Bulkhead's pelvic plating. "Open up and show me what you're packin' under all this bulk?" He tried to be playful to lighten the atmosphere between them. There was a feeling of satisfaction in the knowledge that he would be the first and possibly only one to give Bulkhead an overload that wasn't through masturbation.
The knock on his plating sent a light vibration that didn't help the already aroused Bulkhead. Taking in a deep breath for ventilation, his gears shifted and retracted allowing his spike to finally pressurize, much to his own relief. Having to hold it back for so long was uncomfortable.
Wheeljack looked on in astonishment at the impressive, green and black spike. "Sweet Primus, Bulk…" The size was easily twice that of what would be considered normal. It was truly a sight to behold and made it difficult for him to look away. Without trying, just seeing it was enough to raise his arousal and now his own pelvic covering was becoming uncomfortable. Because of the situation and not really wanting Bulkhead to feel alone in this anyway, he allowed his own plating to retract and revealed his slowly pressurizing, white and silver spike.
Bulkhead's facial plate heated. Wheeljack's spike was cute and enticing, but even more inviting was the valve that he knew would lay beneath the spike. Though he understood and accepted Wheeljack wasn't ready to take it that far, to say he didn't want it would have been huge misconception. "So how are we...?"
Before Bulkhead could finish, Wheeljack went down to his knees and took the tip of Bulkhead's spike into his mouth, lathering it in the fluids that surrounded his glossa. It was too large to take into his mouth completely, but this wouldn't stop him from his friend the best head job he possibly could. To make up for what couldn't fit, he lightly brushed his fingers up and down the long shaft, sure to give special attention to sensitive wires and nodes. He even ran the tips of his fingers over Bulkhead's lubricating valve.
The absolute pleasure of being touched by another was better than Bulkhead could have ever imagined. The skillful use of Wheeljack's glossa, the touch of his fingers over his valve and sensitive wiring was almost too much. It was enough to send shutters through his whole frame, erupting in deep vocalizations of bliss. He had to gently rest his hands over Wheeljack's shoulders just to keep himself standing through this.
Hearing Bulkhead's moans was more arousing than Wheeljack had thought they'd be. His spike was now completely pressurized and own valve began dripping. As if the moaning wasn't enough, he could now taste the bitter sweetness of pre-fluids washing over his glossa. It was becoming harder and harder to fight back his increasing desire to take it further. He was now in an internal war with his own stubborn nature and his body's near aching to just give in and let Bulkhead take him. Desperate to ease this suffering, Wheeljack removed a hand from the spike he was pleasuring to try rubbing his own, but even that wasn't enough. With an obvious shutter, he tried pressing a few fingers up into his wet valve, trying anything he could think of to relieve himself.
Bulkhead slowly came down from his high of pleasure when he realized something was very off about Wheeljack. "Jackie… what's wrong…?" He asked, brushing gently over Wheeljack's helm. The feeling of heaviness in his spark returned, as if it were reaching out to the other mech on its own accord.
Fingering his valve wasn't enough to please his needy body and he became frustrated. Wheeljack pulled his mouth away from Bulkhead's spike and punched into the dirt. "Scrap!" His voice was shaky and weak, making it clear that he couldn't handle this like he thought he'd be able to. It was supposed to be just helping Bulkhead overload, not this. Not his body becoming physically pained from denying it a bonding. Not really answering his friend's question, he simply looked up and their optics met. How could he put into words how much his body ached to be fragged by that large green mech? Or that his spark was nearly bursting from its chamber to join together with the one it had obviously chosen? His optics simply pleaded desperately with Bulkhead to not make him say it. His pride wasn't going to allow him to ask.