Solitude Pleasure CH. 2

Disclaimer: MTMTE belongs to IDW and Transformers belongs to Hasbro, not me. I just own the story.

~OoO~

Cyclonus grumbled, stomping out of the captain's office. The ex con was called in by Rodimus, saying that he and Whirl had been fighting in the hallways...for the third time this week now. Cyclonus had lost the fight and this gave the pale blue former Wrecker the opportunity to run (or rather, limp, since the purple mech had somehow managed to dislocate one of the ex-Wrecker's oddly angled legs) and tell Rodimus what happened.

Damn fragger had started the fight, Cyclonus mused, fists clenching tightly as he recalled the recent brawl with the ex-Wrecker.

Whirl had been loudly bragging about the numerous ways he would kill the purple mech, then Cyclonus had heard him and snapped at him to shut up. Whirl shoved him away then Cyclonus did the same to him and before they knew it, both mechs were rolling on the floor, wrestling and getting at each other's throats while growling and snapping profanities and threats at one another.

It nearly costed Cyclonus to lose his other horn.

And now, Cyclonus had to be sent to the brig but he wanted to get a few things from his quarters first. The only things he held as his possessions were just a few datapads of old stories, ones that were written vorns before the war started. He would just get at least two of them and that would be enough to keep the purple mech a bit occupied during his time in the brig. Rodimus had informed him that he would be there until the next cycle and the purple mech didn't want to be bored during his time there.

The ex con made his way down to his quarters, ignoring a couple bots' stares that were directed towards him. As he walked, he thought of his own ways of getting back at the ex-Wrecker, images of his twisted, mangled and energon-blood covered frame flooded his processor. He could almost hear Whirl's bloodcurdling screams and it was all like music to his audio sensors.

A faint, sinister smirk appeared on the purple mech's mouthplates while the gory images danced around in his processor as he turned a corner. The next time Cyclonus saw him, he would make sure Whirl would dearly pay.

Once he arrived to his quarters, he was about to open the door before he paused, hearing sounds coming from the door. Cyclonus quirked an optic ridge up in slight confusion before he pressed the side of his helm against the door. What he heard caused his entire frame to stiffen.

It sounded like...moaning. The tone was a bit high pitched and breathy, along with a few gasps and pants...and was that...squelching noises he heard, too?

Determined to find out who was the source of these sounds, Cyclonus slowly pushed the door open but just slightly, enough for him to just peer in.

It took a moment for Cyclonus to realize that it was, in fact, Tailgate...Tailgate, the talkative yet innocent little minibot, pleasuring himself and trembling from his own touches...

He could see the little white mech's legs were spread out and he was laying on his backstruts, both of his servos down towards his lower area. The interfacing panel was removed, his spike extended, his valve exposed and both of which were leaking with lavender colored lubricants and were occupied by the mech's servos.

One was clutching onto the spike, moving it up and down while the other servo dug, not one, but two fingers inside and Tailgate moved them at the same, steady pace as his spike's pumping. Each time the fingers were moved out, there would be more of the lubricants caked on them. A few clicks would go by and the white bot would emit blissful whimpers and yelps from his vocalizer while his little frame would shiver and tremble with each thrust and pump. His visor would flash every once in awhile as he went on with his actions...

And he was doing all of this, completely oblivious to Cyclonus watching him..

The ex Con just took in all as he gazed on and if he were to step inside, he could just imagine how the atmosphere in there must be like right now; heavy, hot and musky, from all the whimpers that were mixed with the scent of lubricant in the air.

In one servo, he should be frustrated. Better yet, disgusted, appalled and downright sickened at the fact that the other mech was self-pleasuring in their quarters...the one they shared, the very one where they had to recharge in together!

But on the other servo, Cyclonus felt none of those emotions. All he could do was stand there numbly, unable to move while his optics glued onto that withering frame, hearing his wanton whines...he wondered how tight Tailgate's valve was if he were to ram his own spike inside of him and-...

No! No, stop it, get rid of those thoughts. Control yourself! Cyclonus angrily thought to himself, shaking his helm. He shouldn't be having those types of thoughts swarming around his processor at all. But it was hard to do so when the little minibot continued to make those sounds.

It would kill him if someone were to find out that he, a Decepticon, was 'facing a minibot, an Autobot and to think that they were in a relationship. They weren't even friends to begin with, even if Tailgate claimed that they were and everyone else on the Lost Light still held an intense hatred towards the purple mech.

But then again...he did think that Tailgate was a rather attractive mech. He did had a rather...nice and (dare he say...) curvy, attractive frame and Cyclonus will admit that he had glanced at Tailgate's aft a few times before, especially when he walked past him.

And plus, the war was over...so maybe he could maybe...just...maybe...

As he stood there, contemplating for a quick clicks, the purple mech's thoughts were stopped abruptly from more of Tailgate's sounds of ecstasy.

Oh...he could feel his interfacing protocols coming online, another thing that never occurred in so long, and he bit down his bottom lip plate to stifle a moan. He darted his optics back at the mewling mech and nearly jumped when he heard a long, loud moan emitting from Tailgate.

"Nngh... ahhh, Cyclonuuuus!"

Wait...what...?

He watched, with wide optics as the white bot slumped, panting and covered in his own lubricants and his servo still holding onto his spike. No doubt that Tailgate had just reached his overload.

Was he...thinking about him? Was he thinking of fantasies that involved with both of them 'facing each other? He couldn't have feelings for him...right?

The purple mech looked around, seeing that he was the only being out in the hallways. That was a relief. If any bot was out here and they heard Tailgate's moans and whimpers, Cyclonus wouldn't know what to do, but he knew that the little minibot would probably die in embarrassment for being so vocal and loud.

"...C-...Cyclonus...?"

That caused the purple mech to freeze in place, seeing that the smaller bot had directed his attention towards him, still on his back and his spike and valve still out, both of which were coated with his transfluid.

Oh hell.

TBC...

A/N: Aaaand millions of months later, I finally got off my ass to write this shit out.

I would explain why it took me so long to post this up, but let's just say that I was busy with other things and leave it at that. I apologize for not updating but I do appreciate to those who waited patiently for an update.

Thanks for reading and hope ya'll liked this. C: