2 Bookmarks by Keylime_fandom
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Summary
Cheetor is in heat. Depth Charge is there to help him through it.
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The heat-haze is a slow thing, once it’s come up on him. It has a taste, a stickiness, a way of lingering that he can’t shrug off. He sleeps for too long, and when he doesn’t sleep it’s because the need has woken him up, fingers between his wet thighs. It doesn’t help. The ache inside of him is yawning and depthless.
He feels his frame fold down, shifting, until he has four paws and claws and fangs and still so much need.
He chirps, mournful. Where is his mate? Why is he alone? He needs him, hadn’t he told Depth Charge that? He wants him, he’s asking for him. His warbling cries fill his quarters.
Eventually, he sleeps again.
The next time he wakes up it’s to the chill of fingers sweeping down his spine. A broad palm presses against his shoulder, the sharp ridge of a mech’s nose nuzzling in under one of his triangular ears. “Cheetor,” Depth Charge scolds softly, “You were supposed to comm me when your heat came.”
Bookmarked by Keylime_fandom
25 Mar 2025
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Bookmarked by Keylime_fandom
06 Mar 2025