Darkness and Lightning 06: Needing Release
Wing was getting decidedly twitchy.
It had been a decaorn since Drift had begun formal Knight training and reluctantly accepted as an Initiate of the Circle of Shadow. His bondmate spent the majority of every orn in the training rooms with Dai Atlas and Axe, interspersed with sometimes lengthy stays in Redline's medical bay depending on how much damage he took. The rest of the time Drift was usually out cold on their berth. Rarely did he have the energy left over for interfacing.
During the several metacycles Drift had been in the hidden city of the Knights, Wing had gotten spoiled. He was used to being pounced on and very thoroughly fragged every time Drift spotted an opportunity. Now, going for orns on end without being touched was making Wing twitchy. He desperately wanted release, but Drift wasn't up for it more often than not.
He heard the distinctive hum of Thorn's engines coming in for a landing shortly before the jet called out. "Hay Wing, ready for some fun?"
"Define 'fun'," Wing drawled, lazily rolling onto his back and looking at Thorn upside-down. This was a possibility. Thorn had been his first interface and a periodic lover ever since.
"Finding a toy to play with for the day," he chuckled, flashing the credit ID in his forearm. "You need an overload bad, my friend."
"Tell me something I don't already know," the smaller dark jet grumped, practically oozing off the berth as he got to his pedes. "My creators are keeping my pet in training most of the orn, and by the time they let him go he's too exhausted for me to play with."
"Ah, poor Wing," Thorn oozed false sympathy and draped an arm over Wing's shoulders. "Not as much fun when he can't respond?"
"Not nearly," was the reply, Wing somehow managing to look down his nose at Thorn despite being the shorter of the pair. "Have someone in mind this time, or just pounce on the first mecha to catch your optic?"
"Oh, I have the prettiest little femme in mind," Thorn laughed, half dragging his friend towards the balcony. "Just about upgrade to her final frame. She's very good at what you need."
"Oh, really." Wing let out a throaty purr, stepping out onto the balcony and warming up his engines for takeoff. He had to maintain an appearance of normalcy around Thorn. "Where?"
"She should just be on shift at The Larret," Thorn purred, letting go to take off. "We can catch her show, then pick her up for some fun."
"Lead the way." Wing stretched out his wings, lifting off and lazily looping above the balcony before following the other jet away from the Citadel down into the city towards one of Thorn's favored spots when he was more inclined to pay for services instead of putting out the effort of seducing or drugging a berth-warmer.
The two black jets swooped in an easy circle towards the upscale club that focused on stage dancers that gave the occasional lap dance or private party. One of the few places in the city where a Knight of Shadow could walk without being unduly stared at. When your boss was a Knight, seeing others from the order just wasn't as startling as it was elsewhere.
Wing had been to this club before, both with Thorn and on his own. Setting down, he folded his wings and walked inside, nodding to the few mecha he knew. Pausing inside, he waited for Thorn to pick a place to sit, glancing toward the main stage where a well-built grounder a bit larger than Drift was making a display of himself befitting the status of this club as one of the better ones. Knights invariably had plenty of credits and were fairly free to part with them. Between the volatility of their leader and master's deadly temper and the relaxed certainty that they would never be hungry or in need of paying for repairs, few had much reason to amass a large savings. Existence was very much about enjoying every moment that wasn't training, chores or penance.
The taller jet motioned him to a table that focused on a side stage where a sleek young femme of pale pink with white and silver trim and large warm blue optics commanded the stage and audience around her as if it was her spark right.
"That's her, I take it." Wing looked the femme over admiringly. "You were right; she is a pretty one."
Drift was handsomer, in Wing's opinion, but that little tidbit he kept to himself.
"That's Grace," Thorn answered with a bit of a dreamy stare. "If you think she's good on stage, wait until you feel her other skills."
Wing hummed. "Looking forward to it." He settled back to watch the femme as a server came by with the jet high grade they both preferred, taking payment with a quick swipe of Thorn's credit ID before moving on. "I bet her price is just as impressive."
"She's worth it," Thorn purred, optics following her as her set ended and she moved on to giving lap dances to a couple customers who were willing to pay while the next femme took the stage. "You'll see."
"As long as she's not wearing a red collar." Wing took a drink of his energon, keeping an optic on the femme. "I remember what happened the last time."
"Still have scars from it," Thorn muttered, his wings shivering in memory of just how vicious and creative Master Shogun was in protecting his small harem. "No, she's not one of his. I've bought her time before and still have my wings."
"Always a good idea to make sure." Wing tilted his helm to get a better look at the femme.
Thorn purred as she finished her last lap dance and sauntered over to the black jets, leaning in close to Thorn, her field teasing his seductively. "Here for a private dance, handsome?"
"You know it," Thorn rumbled and stood. "Wing's joining us. His pet's been too tired to tend to him lately."
Wing's golden optics roamed over the femme's pale frame, the dark jet letting out a soft chirr. "Hello there, lovely," he purred, fluttering his wings at her.
"Hello handsome," she purred, her field reaching out to caress his, rich with arousal and desire. Light armor and elegant doorwings fluttered at them as she turned to lead them to a private room.
Wing trailed after her and Thorn, carefully shielding his end of the bond with Drift to avoid distracting the white mech. When facing down Dai Atlas, distraction could be fatal. Pits, even if it was Axe right now, it wouldn't be much better. Even as he sent a small prayer of thanks to Primus that his mate had earned some kind of acceptance, and thus protection, from Axe, he worried. So many Knight Initiates never survived.
He chased the thought away as the bond closed as much as he could manage and turned his full attention to Grace and the small room with a comfortable berth, a couple small shelves for cubes near it and enough space for her to dance if her client wanted a show before the touching began.
"A dance first?" she twirled in the middle of the open space, her gaze resting on Wing. "Or an overload so you can enjoy it?"
Wing's response was a purring chuckle. "Overload." He stretched, fluttering his wings, golden optics watching the femme intently. The dark jet was desperate for release and they could all feel it.
With a smile she glided to him, a light touch guiding him to the berth. "Tell me what you want, handsome," she purred, her field dancing along his entire frame as her hands slid down his chest.
Wing sauntered over to the berth, settling onto it, watching her. "Your lips on my spike," he purred back. "Want you to suck me off."
Without hesitation she slid her hands along his upper legs and knelt between his knees. She leaned forward to kiss his spike cover, flicking her glossa out to taste his charge.
Wing watched through half-lidded optics, making a throaty purr as his spike cover released. His spike practically popped out, already gleaming with lubricants.
"Oh, you really are needy," she cooed in sympathy as she kissed her way up the hard length. "Your pet should be punished for ignoring your needs," she added before taking the tip between her lips and licking playfully at the slit.
"I would punish him if he was able to remain conscious long enough for it to do any good," the dark jet drawled, his hips pressing toward her. A rumble of pleasure crossed Wing's lips at the lick.
A flicker of sympathy for both of them caressed Wing before she took him all the way down. Her glossa stroked the underside as her intake squeezed and stroked the tip.
"Yessssssssss," the dark jet hissed, his hips rolling, thrusting lightly into her mouth. "Oh, yesssssssss." One hand flexed against the berth surface, the other coming to rest on her helm as she slowly began to bob. Lips, suction, a skilled glossa and flexing intake worked every bit of his spike with a wanton relish that Drift could never manage. Oh, his white mate was good, he was skilled, but he couldn't enjoy it fully yet. There was too much abuse intended to hurt in his past. It would take centuries, if not millennia, to fully train him out of his inherent reluctance to service a spike, even Wing's.
This little creature loved what she was doing and the difference was intense.
Dark wings twitched against the berth, one unfolding partway. Wing let out a soft moan, rolling his hips, thrusting into Grace's mouth. He didn't think he'd last very long, but it would be very enjoyable. He felt her smile around his shaft and suddenly a very high performance engine was directly attached to her chassis, causing her to vibrate. Instead of humming, she cycled the RPMs on her engine.
The dark jet's optics flared nearly white as the stimulation proved too much. A howl erupted from Wing's vocalizer as he overloaded hard, his whole body jolting on the berth. Hot transfluid spilled down her intake as she continued to work him until the peak passed, only to disengage her engine and slowly draw her helm up, licking him clean as she went.
"Damn, I'd forgotten how steaming hot you are that revved up," Thorn rumbled, his field nearly cracking with charge.
Wing snorted, laying flat for a moment before sitting up again. "I needed that so bad..." The dark jet stretched, venting hot air, lifting an optic rim at Thorn.
"What about your valve and my spike, while we watch her dance ... and show off like she won't on the public stage," Thorn purred, leaning close and letting Wing feel how hot he was.
"Sounds good," Wing purred, flaring his nacelle pinions at the larger jet, one dark wing flicking at Thorn. He shifted over to give Thorn a little more room, reaching out to trace one of the glowing markings on the taller but lighter mech's armor.
"Roll over my pretty," Thorn grinned at him and motioned towards the pole Grace was now leaning back against, fluttering slender psudo-wings. "You'll want to watch her, not me."
Wing snorted, flicking his wing at Thorn before changing position, his golden optics fixing on the pale pink femme as she began to move, her warm blue optics focused on the black jets as they made a display of their own.
Thorn covered his fellow Knight, rubbing his entire frame along Wing's back before giving him a sharp nip on the neck.
Wing responded with a rough purr, arching his back, pressing his haunches back into Thorn. He kneaded the berth surface, watching the femme as she moved, following the lines of her frame. Dark wings wiggled against Thorn's chest. The smaller jet's valve cover opened invitingly, lubricant leaking out to puddle on the berth as he shifted one leg out of the way to give the larger jet more room.
"So wanton," Thorn moaned, shifting to sink his spike into that incredible slickness, his deep red optics on Grace as he began to thrust.
The smaller jet echoed the moan, pressing his chest against the berth and arching back into Thorn, rocking into each thrust. His nacelles revved, pinions vibrating as they flared and settled. Golden optics were practically glued to the femme, watching her move. It was a delicious combination of physical stimulation and visual feast, and if he wanted to, he could do nothing, just lay here with his aft in the air and enjoy.
Above him, Thorn bit down on his collar strut and thrust harder, grunting as his charge spiraled higher.
Wing hissed softly, wriggling against Thorn. His engines revved higher, vibrating through his frame. Dark wings flailed out of their lazy tuck, scraping lightly against Thorn's chestplate. The dark glass of Wing's cockpit scraped on the berth as he shifted, rocking back into each thrust to take Thorn's spike in deeper.
It felt so good.
Thorn growled, bit and thrust, his hips moving faster and harder as he came close to his peak. Grace danced, making love to the pole and herself as she slowly removed pieces of armor to expose her protoform to them.
Wing made a soft keening sound, leaning into Thorn, his armor scraping against the larger mech's. His optics were fixed on Grace, watching her every move, briefly tracking discarded pieces of armor before returning to her exposed frame. He'd never seen a protoform before, other than his own before he went under after a brutal crash.
It was ... different. Erotic to a part of his programming that was deeply ingrained to his interfacing protocols.
The smaller of the two jets was fascinated, as much of his attention fixed on the femme as on the other Knight. His golden gaze skipped over her exposed protoform, taking in all the details he could see. The strangest part was watching the millions of microfilaments that transferred sensation and data to and from the armor release their grip and slither into her protoform.
What would it feel like, to touch that directly? To be touched like that.
His valve quivered at the thought. In Drift, he had someone who might just be willing to explore than, just a bit, once they had properly secured and outfitted their hideaway. Maybe an arm or something that wasn't spark threatening to loose sooner. Just to find out.
Above him, Thorn moaned, his thrusts picking up and field warning of just how close he was.
Wing carefully tagged that line of thought for later consideration, or maybe to run past Drift when his mate could stay conscious long enough to actually respond. It was definitely something he wanted to investigate.
The jet made a sound that was part moan, part hiss, bracing his palms against the berth and pressing himself back into each thrust. Golden optics brightened as his own charge rose, his field pulsing against Thorn's. That contact was nearly as arousing as the slide of spike, the charge feeding on itself, on the physical, on the visual, on the imagination.
It wasn't long before Thorn growled, then grunted with each deep thrust that surged transfluid deep into Wing's valve.
Wing overloaded with a keen, his valve clamping down on Thorn's spike, his frame trembling under the other jet's. Dark wings almost flopped open, twitching all the way to the tips. Wing's optics never left Grace's undulating form as she performed for them, her own warm blue optics locked on the black pair as they lost track of her briefly in their ecstasy.
His whole body twitching, Wing sank down onto the berth, a few wisps of steam escaping from various vents. The air shimmered over his frame as heat escaped from under slightly fluffed armor. Golden optics flickered a few times before their glow steadied, though it took a klik or so longer for the dark jet to actually be able to focus properly.
"She's hot stuff, isn't she?" Thorn whispered in his audial.
"She is," Wing replied, stretching under Thorn, his back plating and loosely folded wings sliding against the taller mech's chestplate as they settled, sprawling lazily on the luxurious berth and watched her show.
"I bet you never had one who'd strip down for you," he chuckled as the dance came to an end and she glided towards them.
"And you'd be right about that," was the reply, Wing's optics brightening as the femme approached them. "Seeing that was a first for me."
"Then you are in for several memorable experiences," Grace smiled seductively as she relaxed onto the berth next to them, one hand coming to stroke Thorn's back while she leaned in to kiss Wing, her glossa licking out to stroke his lip plates.
Wing opened his mouth into the kiss, one hand coming up to lightly skim over her exposed protoform, savoring the different textures. "I look forward to it."
He nearly squeaked into the kiss when the monofilament cilia reached out to caress his fingers, zapping him with the direct connection to her systems. Golden optics flashed with surprise, his hand jerking back reflexively. A moment later he reached out again, this time not pulling back from the contact as the nearly microscopic attachment points crawled and danced along his armor.
"Now imagine that all along your frame," she cooed throatily.
Dark wings fluttered slightly. "Interesting," he purred, shifting closer, bringing more of his dark armor into contact with her protoform and the deliciously unique sensations. He was absently aware of Thorn shifting off his back to settle on Grace's far side, but his focus was on the femme between them as her hands moved along his frame, every tiny contact point between them alive with energy.
The dark jet writhed slightly as the intense sensations swept through his sensor net. He'd never experienced anything like this before and was determined to experience as much of it as possible. It didn't hurt that he wasn't the one paying credits for such a pro's attentions. Oh, sure, he'd pay for it later in the form of a favor to Thorn, but right now, he was just too happy to indulge as fully as he could manage.