Solitude Pleasure

Disclaimer: Hasbro owns Transformers, IDW owns MTMTE. I just own the story

Pairings: Cyclonus/Tailgate (MTMTE verse)

Warnings: Masturbation, sticky, smut, slash...PWP, maybe?

~OoO~

He had to glance at both ends of the hallways to make that they were really empty and that he was the only being up at this time. So far, nothing was to be seen at the moment. There were some bots that were down at Swerve's bar while the others were probably in their separate quarters, getting some recharge. And he could hear the laughter and chatter mixed with some music in the far distance down at the bar and he could also hear the faint sounds of the Lost Light's creaks here and there. It was a bit of an old ship, after all , so of course it would tend to emit some noises every once in awhile.

With a small, quiet sigh, Tailgate went back into his quarters, the one he shared with the former Decepticon Cyclonus. The purple mech wasn't here at the moment and Tailgate wasn't sure where he was exactly. He would never tell him where he was, even if Tailgate didn't asked of his whereabouts. Normally he would be here, looking out to the window and deep in thought or over at the desk, looking gloomy as ever.

And it was a best bet that he probably wasn't at Swerve's bar, either. Tailgate would sometimes polietly offer the ex-Con into coming down to the bar with him. Most of the time it didn't always work but when it did, he'd be sitting alone, all by himself and avoiding any social interactions from anybody.

The white and blue bot went over to his own berth, which was much smaller compared to Cyclonus' and he sat on top of it, his back against the metallic wall.

Lately, he had noticed that the purple mech had been on his processor. He wasn't too sure on why he was suddenly on his mind. Besides, Cyclonus didn't seem to take an interest in him one bit. He'd always been neglecting him, ignoring him and snap at him if Tailgate somehow made him angry.

And the fact that some of the bots here didn't like him because he was a Decepticon before. However, he did say that he didn't wanted to be Decepticon anymore, anyway but he didn't intend on becoming an Autobot either. All he wanted was to start out fresh, start out a new life for himself. Tailgate could see some very small source of good in him, even if he never showed it at all.

Maybe that could be it, other than he was the only mech he knew before he went into that six million year lock mode. Perhaps there was something Cyclonus was hiding from him and the others..isn't that what made the blue and white mech so...attracted to him?

Tailgate could feel his facemask heat up at the mere thought. He shouldn't even be attracted to the purple mech, first of all. They were merely just friends...if that's how he could call it. It's more of a love/hate relationship, but mostly hate on Cyclonus' part what with him not paying any attention to the bomb disposal unit.

It's...rather complicated for Tailgate to say, honestly.

Plus, he didn't wasn't even sure if they were allowed to even have relationships and by relationships, he mean by getting intimated with other and not necessarily being bonded with a bot...not that he wanted to do it with Cyclonus. He knew that once you were bonded with somebody, that's it. You'd be with them unless one of you were to deactivate and Tailgate doubted that Cyclonus would want to be stuck with him for the rest of his life.

Though...he wondered if Cyclonus had a lover before. What were they like? Were they a Decepticon, too? Did they manage coax the purple mech out of his normally ignorant demeanor once in awhile? What was it...like to interface with him? Was he the dominant one in the relationship? Did he take control?

At these thoughts, Tailgate's processor was instantly afflicted with images of Cyclonus looming over his own frame, touching him and whispering sweet nothings into his audio sensors...

Tailgate could feel his valve tighten slightly behind his interface panel, along with his spike twitching faintly against the panel.

Suddenly, he had the urge to...just reach down and touch himself. Wanted to see if he could play around with his muddled fantasies, something he hadn't done for quite a while, long before he went into his stasis-lock...

Might as well do it now while he still has the chance, espiecially since he was alone at the time. It was a little early in the evening, anyways and he wouldn't see or hear Cyclonus until much later.

Tailgate felt his facemask heat up a little more as he moved a servo down to his inner thigh, inching closer his interface panel. He lifted a digit to touch his panel, feeling that it was getting a bit warm. He then closed his optics, causing his visor to darken, trying to picture his purple colored roommate touching his frame, caressing every seam and cable on him. He leaned back down a little, his back struts sliding down to meet the flat surface of his small berth. He spread his legs a little, giving himself some space to reach.

His other servo gripped onto his thigh, rubbing the white smooth armor slowly, still thinking that it's Cyclonus' larger servo rubbing it. The other servo was still down caressing his panel, now using three of his digits and was trying to add some warm friction that would stimulate his valve even more.

The blue and white mech let out small gasps as he continued, his helm bumping against his berth.

He heard a small click and then a slide. His digits felt something wet, warm and sticky between their fingertips and cool air washing over his lower area. Both his spike and valve were revealed, out in the opening. Now he could mentally see Cyclonus looking down at him, his own spike revealed and Tailgate could imagine that it would be way larger and longer than his, standing tall and fully erected with maybe a bead of transfluid at the top. He imagined that his digits would be Cyclonus' spike.

He did his best to calm himself down, try to relax his frame before he could penetrate himself, though it was bit hard for him with those images still bouncing around his processor. Even if it had been years since he did self-interface, he still knew that he shouldn't be too nervous and panic-ky, otherwise it would end up with him giving himself pain rather than pleasure.

After a little bit of hesitation, his frame finally relaxed and with a shaky intake, the blue and white mech slowly inserted two digits inside of him, immediately touching the hot, moisty walls of his valve. He moved them in and out, in and out, stretching himself at a slow, steady pace.

It was painful at first, causing him to wince and gasp a couple of times, even if he did managed to relax his frame. He just hadn't done this in such a long time. And plus, he used two digits in him because he wanted have something thick in him...and he assumed Cyclonus' spike would be thicker. But soon, pain was slowly replaced by nothing but pleasure as he still fingered himself, his valve getting used to his penetration.

"Mmngh...aahn...C-Cyclonus..." Tailgate mewled out, still rubbing his thigh and still at the slow pace of his self-penetration. His entire frame was burning up intensely, the temperature rising with every second and every thrust he makes. He touched every node he could reach, the transfulid pouring out of him, some drops sticking onto his inner thighs.

His spike, one that matched his paintjob and was white with blue stripes around it, was getting pressurized with each thrust Tailgate made. It was erect, thick and hard and the stripes were glowing in the somewhat dim quarters. The bomb disposal expert removed his servo away from his thigh, now reaching over to his spike. He gripped it, feeling its soft ridges. His thumb rubbed the top for a few clicks before he started moving his servo up and down, pumping his spike.

"Ah...a-ahh..." Gasps and pants emitted from him as he moved his servo up and down on his spike, being in sync with his self-penetration. Tailgate quickened his pace a little, still whispering, moaning out his roommate's name, processor still hazed with images of the former Con. He could mentally see Cyclonus doing all of these actions to him, his thick mechhood pounding him, all rough and hard and trying to reach to the blue and white mech's sweet spot. Warnings began to flash across Tailgate's cerulean colored visor, telling him that his frame was going to overheat and he was going to reach his overload peak. He quickly dissmissed them, wanting to be focused on pleasuring himself.

The small mech was so into his thoughts, so focused on his self-pleasuring that he didn't even notice the door opening a little, allowing a certain mech take a peek...

TBC..

A/N: Aw hell, this took a bit too long for me to write. Started it in the middle of February, worked on it off and on a couple times a week and finished it just now...nearly at the end of THIS month... Now to work on the next chapter..*wheezes*

But omg, this comic book series is sooo addicting! Every issue has me in smiles or in tears (laughter or sadness) and the characters are really likeable, but Cyclonus and Tailgate happen to be my most favorites. There needs to be millions of fanart/fanfics of these two. I'd die happily if that were to happen C:

Anyway, uh...hoped ya'll liked it?