Understood
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Chapter 9
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Tailgate sat on the berth propped up against the upholstered headboard, watching his client across the room. The big purple mech had found him again and taken him to a hotel room. It was there that the Decepticon produced a couple of large cubes of a glittering blue energon from subspace and sat them on the table. "Oh! For us?"
The Decepticon officer looked over at him with a displeased look.
"Oh," Tailgate replied sheepishly. "I guess that was a stupid thing to say. Of course it's for us."
"At least you have other charms," was the response.
"Well maybe you were inviting someone else over."
The big mech chuckled. "It's just you and I tonight." He took one of the glasses from the side table—this place on Third Cycle Street was a nice enough hotel to provide a few conveniences. And then he filled a glass from the cube he'd opened and handed it to the minibot. "I think you'll like this. They call it Heavy Water."
Tailgate sipped. "Oh! It is good!" he exclaimed.
Cyclonus smiled, and when Tailgate's cup was empty he refilled it again. Then pouring a drink for himself he walked to the window, opened the blinds, and and stared out across Kaon And he just stood there drinking, silently lost in his thoughts. And when he'd emptied the glass, he went back over to the table and filled it once more.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Tailgate when the cup emptied again without the purple mech having said a word in between.
He moved to the window with his glass full once more and scowled out as previously. "It will be winter soon."
"It will be my first winter in Kaon."
"You'll hate it. Difficult roads. Difficult flying conditions. Expect icy rain and stormy skies."
"Will there be snow? It never snowed in Pescus Hex."
"Not often. Mostly we'll have sleet."
"Are you coming to bed?" asked Tailgate, not really wanting to talk about the weather any more. He'd been fantasizing about lying beneath the big jet for the past several days.
"I'm still drinking," growled the mech.
Tailgate apologized. "I just didn't want you to be wasting your time."
The Decepticon harrumphed. "It's my time. I've paid for it. I'll waste it in drinking if I want to."
Tailgate tried to sit patiently. This behavior was quite strange for a client. Usually his employers began clanging him just moments after arriving in the decided-upon place. The common understanding was that the agreed-upon time began the moment the berthroom was entered. And apparently this purple mech was unconcerned with getting every credit's worth of his four-cycle block. In Tailgate's sudden anxiety he spilled a little of the thick blue liquid down his faceplate. He gasped and stared down at the trickle across his chest.
Attention drawn, the client's expression went from morose to an amused grin.
Tailgate quickly hopped off the berth and went to the washrack, grabbed a small towel, and wiped himself off. He apologized again and returned to the bed, obviously trying to hold himself gracefully and with a little more composure. But before he could climb back on and settle himself, his client picked him up and turned him around. Red optics stared into his and he wondered yet again what the big mech was thinking. And then he found himself set down and pushed against the berth, followed by his client kissing him fiercely. A long glossa forced itself into his mouth. Hands wandered over his plating and claws curled into seams. This passion was new, and quite unexpected.
And then as suddenly as it had started the lapse of character was over. The Decepticon officer straightened back up, drank what was left in his glass, and then pulled the seal on the second cube. "I'm not done drinking yet," he said with a tone that nearly indicated some embarrassment over what had just happened. But then he looked at the minibot with a wicked grin. "Though maybe I'll have you start without me."
Tailgate's optic band brightened in shocked surprise. "You want me to... You want me to pleasure myself?"
"While I watch, yes," the purple mech grinned.
Tailgate's intake fans whirred in surprised astonishment. This was a strange request.
And that astonishment did not go unnoticed. "So make yourself comfortable and let me see what you do to bring yourself to overload. Maybe I'll learn a little something..."
"Well..." Tailgate felt awkward. Sex with another mech was one thing, but pleasuring oneself? Wasn't that just a bit too private and personal? "I've never done that for an audience before. Wouldn't you just rather frag me?"
"Your modesty is endearing," said the purple mech. "And most unnatural for someone of your profession."
"You really want me to touch myself for you?"
The response was a chuckle, yet another pouring of Heavy Water, and the pulling up of a chair turned to face the berth.
Tailgate sighed and leaned up against the headboard again. He could do this for a client. Especially a good one like this mech. It wasn't that embarrassing, was it? "Well feel free to come join me when you're done drinking," he said with a resigning sigh.
"I shall," said the Decepticon, sipping again from his glass. "No question of that."
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"Understood" continues in Chapter 10
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Transformers and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.