Work Text:
Every Cybertronian's least favorite thing is heat cycles. They're unwanted matchmakers, the frame's last ditch effort to encourage reproduction. The body is smart, too, not being fooled by self-inflicted overloads and even better is when it spreads the heat to others.
When two long-overdue bots come into contact with each other, both will fall into a synchronized cycle, much to Bumblebee and Smokescreen's dismay.
It was just too awkward, they weren't even aware the other was suffering, too, when the temperature of Smokescreen's berthroom is so so hot and they're entirely convinced it was just their own frames overreacting.
Bee sat on a crate, laughing at something Smokescreen said and internally panicking. He could feel the horribly embarrassing slickness of his valve underneath his panel and it was best if he left ASAP before his friend noticed. He stood from his seat, unaware of the small fluorescent puddle of lubricant he left behind.
Bee was saying something, Smokescreen knew, but he just couldn't listen because he was so transfixed on that tiny amount of unmistakable bright blue fluids.
The ex-scout noticed eventually, and followed his gaze. He froze, feeling the energon in his veins run cold, even in his fragging cycle. When Smokescreen stood, the smaller Autobot was at a loss at how to react.
The larger bot was so overwhelmed in his heat (and an already existing love for Bee) that he practically couldn't stop himself. The warrior was known for his showy attitude and his constant gambling for attention, and right now is no different.
If picking up some of Bee's lubricant with a finger and licking it off would make his desires clear, he'd go for it. And he did, bringing the digit to his intake and making sure the yellow bot saw every drop of it swiped off with a smoldering gaze and a probing glossa.
At that point, Bee lost every last shred of resistance and practically tackled him.
Their lipplates crashed together in a sloppy kiss, Bee clinging to Smokescreen like the cure for his cycle was underneath his glossa. In an instant Bee's servos were everywhere, constantly moving and stroking cables underneath his partner's plating. Completely thrown off guard, the larger bot moaned into the ex-scout's derma and slowly raised his own servos to touch him.
Bumblebee abruptly broke their kiss, staring at Smokescreen for just a moment before he attached himself to his neck cables, servos at his hips roughly guiding him back onto the berth. Smokescreen eagerly complied, falling backwards and pulling Bee down with arms around his neck. Bee grunted as he fell against him, hips grinding against a blue thigh between his own as he licked and sucked at his neck. A servo worked its way to rest over Smokescreen's interface panel, teasing the seams surrounding it.
"B-Bee," Smokescreen moaned, hips rising to meet his touch and valve panel opening. Bumblebee wasted no time, one digit brushing his anterior node before plunging into the wet heat presented to him.
He let one finger thrust in and out once before he added another, sticking to just two despite the blue bot thrashing and wailing below him.
"Please!" He cried, roughly pulling the other from the space between neck and shoulder to needily kiss him. "Need you, I need-"
Bee didn't reply, only laughed, leaning up and removing his fingers from his valve. His partner bit back half of a groan at the loss. Bee stared down at him, feeling like he deserves a taste of his own medicine.
He raised two lubricant-soaked fingers to his intake and sucked greedily as Smokescreen looked on in surprise and lust.
He pulled the ex-scout back down, not breaking eye contact as his thigh relentlessly grinded into Bee's panel. It took just one long, slow slide for him to give up and retract his spike covering, his thigh feeling the hot and heavy spike depressurize.
He reached down and felt it, medium-length but thick with pretty blue biolights running up the sides of it. He pumped it only once before greedily guiding the head into his own valve.
They both groaned as Bee entered to the hilt, already feeling the intense pleasure of the cycle. He grabbed Smokescreen's cobalt hips and lifted them, wasting no time and thrusting into him. Smokescreen practically screamed, servos stroking black and yellow doorwings and lipplates desperately kissing the pair above him.
"So so tight Smoke," Bumblebee murmured against his derma, one servo stroking his faceplate and the other rubbing his anterior node in time with his frantic thrusting. "Wanted this for so long."
Smokescreen couldn't even reply as he wailed his way through a violent overload. The calipers in his valve twitched against Bumblebee's spike, causing him to overload immediately after.
Bee collapsed against his partner, not even bothering to slide out of his valve. Thank Primus one overload seemed to end the cycle because he was way too exhausted to continue.
However, now the two had the daunting question of what that just meant. Bee opened his optics, not even remembering when he closed them, looking down at Smokescreen in apprehension, who slowly looked back.
The silence was terrifying. We're never going to get past this, our friendship is going to be over because of a fragging cycle, Bee's mind raced, a servo at Smokey's chassis nervously stroking the headlights.
I am way too tired for this, the blue Autobot thought, pulling the smaller bot down and giving him a chaste kiss.
"It's fine, Bee, this is more than okay," he spoke, smiling tiredly and wrapping his arms around him.
Bumblebee wasn't sure when Smokescreen became a mind reader but he eventually relaxed, spike eventually returning to its panel and arms letting his weight fall onto the other.
Yeah, this was way more than okay.