Title: DrabblesSticky
Author: dreamerchaos
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I'm only playing with them.

Rating: G all the way to Mature. STICKY.

Summary: Short drabbles ranging from G to Mature. Be warned. Slash between two mechs (Maybe even three mechs). Takes place in various universes. None of these drabbles are are meant to be in consecutive order.

Hot Rod and Perceptor – IDW Universe

"Wait." Perceptor caresses the younger mech's face with applause-worthy steady hands, fingertips tracing the mech's features. The microscope whimpering softly as Hot Rod pauses his pelvic rotations, stilling as soon as the words escaped the red and teal Autobot's lips.

"…Am I…doing something wrong?" Hot Rod's vents are turned on, fans whirring to cycle cooling air throughout his systems. Leaning between Perceptor's thighs, forearms bracketing both sides of the microscope's helm, the scientist's scope removed earlier and placed reverently upon the cluttered desk earlier that night cycle to avoid being sent crashing to the ground as a result of Hot Rod's amorous pounce upon the Autobot scientist as soon as he had stepped into their quarters.

Perceptor shakes his head in denial, trying to sooth the red and gold mech's worry, leading Hot Rod down for a long, thorough kiss, sighing into the younger mech's mouth as the motion of Hot Rod leaning forward causes the mech's cord to push deeper, filling him to the brim.

"Mmmm-" Hot Rod moans softly, diving into the kiss with vigor. Hips unconsciously striking a stucco of several rapid thrusts before he can contain himself.

Perceptor fares no better. Arching and meeting his partner's thrusts with avid enthusiasm. The scientist's breath shuddering when his optics relay the sight of Hot Rod's cord stretched between them, before sinking into the tight bundle and depths of his port and valve.

"Y-You need to slow down.." Perceptor whispers haltingly. Separating with a wet pop, their lips traced with clear lubricant, the microscope smiling sheepishly, "Keep this up, and you'll having me overloading in no time."

Hot Rod grins cheekily. "Kind of the point," At Perceptor's incredulous blink of confused azure optics, the younger Autobot pumps his hips forward, causing Perceptor to cling onto him, the scientist crying out sharply, arms digging into his shoulders and neck as he clings onto Hod Rod, "'Cause both of us have tomorrow off-duty, and I don't plan on either of us getting off this berth or leaving this berth for the next solar cycle."

Megatron and Prowl – Megatron Origin Universe

Prowl twisted and tugged within the hands surrounding his wrists, his arms hanging above his helm, the Security officer shoved across a rough tumble of metal boxes. His doorwings flexed with agitation, pulsing with each piston of the mech behind him, the large silver gladiator shoving his cord inside the pinned, smaller winged mech.

"What did you hope to accomplish by staking out this territory, hmm?" The large gladiator wondered, one hand stretching forward and trapped Prowl's helm against the edge of the large crate, the Security mech grimacing as his red chevron screeched a red groove across the paint.

"Tell me," Megatron whispered sibilantly into his audio receptor, looming and sliding across the smaller mech's back, earning a weak cry of displeasure as the heavy bulk pressed down upon his wings, "I have been gentle, haven't I? All you need to do is tell me who sent you."

Prowl ground his denta until he clearly hears a crack, mortified by the trickle of lubricants slithering down his thighs, both legs shoved apart, the pale lavender fluid slicking the gladiator's thrusts, coiling between their clacking and bumping plating, "N-Never…" Prowl snarls, gasping from a particularly hard thrust, condensation leaking around his lips to speckle the crate's surface. His wrists bound hard and tight against the small of his back.

"Pity," The larger mech sounds anything but sorry, "Then I'll simply need to distract myself with your company, since your presence has sent my Constructicons darting for the nearest dark caverns at the very whisper of Security."

Sentinel Prime and Prowl – Megatron Origin Universe

"I hate this…I hate..hate.." Prowl slaps a hand over his gibbering mouth, muffling his twist of mewls and growls of displeasure.

Sentinel Prime smirks, lapping idly across the surface of the winged mech's interface relay. Prowl stretched upon the Prime's desk like a mid-day energon snack, the larger gold and red mech spilling Prowl over the surface when his assistant had ventured into the office to deliver another stack of datapads and mission reports.

Prowl's thighs tremble, folded over the Prime's shoulders, the larger mech's girth forcing the smaller mech's legs to spread open wide to accommodate. The black and white assistant's dermal plating flushes with an undercurrent of energon as he is splayed upon the edge of the desk, while Sentinel Prime insists on slowly feasting upon him, never mind the other assistants and personnel scurrying throughout the building, on the other side of the office door!

"Quiet." Sentinel Prime accompanies his stern warning by thrusting two fingers beyond the rim of his assistant's port, earning a sharp, but successfully muffled howl of indignant surprise from Prowl, "You don't want anyone to hear, do you?"

His hand lowering momentarily to glare at his superior, Prowl stutters a nasty curse, that makes Sentinel Prime arch his optical ridge in surprise.

"My, such a filthy words to ever escape from your lips," He tsks, "We will have to do something about that, won't we?"

"You bast-" The back of Prowl's helm smacks against the desk, data pads pushing sharp needle points of pain as they dig into his wings, the black and white mech voicing a soundless scream as Sentinel Prime reproaching his seething assistant, by thrusting his glossa into the mech's port, slithering alongside the two fingers pumping and curling into his valve.

Soundwave and Perceptor – Megatron Origin Universe

"You shouldn't be here! Only s-students are allowed." The microscope yips with alarm when his partner tugs him out of his seat and away from his unfinished project, yellow optical band humming in the dimly lit room with the warm malevolence of a lone sun within a circling galaxy. "Not here." Perceptor pleads, his partner scooping him off his pedes, pressing him against the wall of his labs inside the Science Academy.

"Your arguments: unsatisfactory." Soundwave nuzzles his masked face into Perceptor's neck, hands clenching upon the young scientist's posterior, propping him against the wall while he smoothly coaxes the microscope to thread his legs around the sapphire blue mech's waist.

"The other students!" Perceptor glances in mortification and a daring , but steadfastly ignored thrill of pleasure towards the door of the labs, his sensory net on hyper-alert, keying into every sound that falls like a tapping pede, or the murmur of voices from students rushing to settle inside a vacant lab in order to begin work on their own projects.

"Your company: desirable." Soundwave's hand impatiently pulses and drags upon the cod piece over his interface array. Perceptor whines, the fronts of their chassis grinding with friction as they arch together, the young scientist fumbling and struggling with Soundwave's cod piece.

"Oh!" Both mechs shudder when their cod pieces snap free, clattering to the floor in between their pedes. Soundwave rocking forward as soon as their interface relays are laid bare, his thrust pushing his tensed cord partway into his partner before he can halt the motion. Perceptor's hands drag down his shoulders, the microscope riding the second thrust that combines them together as one unit.

Joors afterwards, they managed to avoid an embarrassing scenario of discovery, having not been revealed by any students or instructors in need of the labs.

Sprawled across the floor, Perceptor can't contain a short spell of laughter at the ridiculousness of their position, tangled and tumbled together like two younglings after a long cycle of tussling and play.

He sits up and retrieves their cod pieces, avoiding a slow swipe from his partner when he snaps his on, then Soundwave's, avoiding a precursor warning that the mech is not lacking in his desire to couple again, and Perceptor smiles knowingly, while avoiding another, quicker grab from the replete mech.

Soundwave growls with reproach, managing to snag his giggling partner, dragging Perceptor closer, curling his arms around his smaller partner.

Regaining their strength, vents still churning fresh gusts of atmosphere, Perceptor rests his helm upon Soundwave's chassis, one leg looped over his.

"You've been away for long periods of time." Perceptor murmurs softly, pressing his cheek above Soundwave's Spark. One of the other mech's hands sliding up and down the scientist's back strut, battle mask retracted, to allow for the larger mech to lay a brief kiss to the top of Perceptor's helm as they lay together.

"Several projects under construction." Soundwave informs him, again giving Perceptor far too little detail.

Perceptor hates needling his partner, but he can't help but to be concerned. "Is Senator Ratbat keeping you after joors?" He attempts to acquire further details.

"Depends on the project." Is all that he is provided.

Perceptor sighs in defeat, optics dimming with the heavy silence that hangs in the air. Weary of the silences that have begun to stretch more frequently between the two mechs during the last vorn. The young scientist already growing unsettled by the increasing news reports warning of underground fights, and clustered skirmishes with Security. The rogue groups of mechs causing great concern to the instructors and students, many creators pulling their charges out of the Academy in fear of the fights breaking out near or on campus.

"Promise me that you are completely safe." It is the only thing that he can ask from his partner for the moment. The assurance that Soundwave is not in danger, far away from these skirmishes, will settle his thumping Spark greatly.

"Always."

Perceptor nestles into Soundwave's embrace, burying his face into the crook of the mech's neck. Trying to ignore the flutter of discontent that persists is gnawing at his Spark, poisoning his recharge and leaving him awake during many a night cycle while he fears for his partner's safety.

Terrified that their bond would soon be tested as the violence escalated and Soundwave's excursions and long disappearances increased.

'I fear for you.' Perceptor privately worries, CPU flooded with a variety of horrific scenarios and uncertainties, 'I fear what may become of all of this.'

Soundwave's arms tighten around him, as if his partner senses his turmoil.

The scientist hopes that they will remain together, as rock steady as Soundwave's embrace, during the coming orns.