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Having Hot Rod climb into his lap was nothing new. The punk has done it often, mostly to tease Kup into kisses or interfacing. This time seemed to be the former. Hot Rod sat astride Kup's thighs, waiting for the older bot to remove the cygar from his mouth. Kup made the punk wait, enjoying the way Hot Rod started to squirm, and that spoiler flap once, twice, before settling. Pulling the cygar out of his mouth, Kup didn't get a chance to expel the smoke before Hot Rod's lips were pressing against his. Well, if the punk couldn't be patient enough to wait.
Their lips parted to slot together, and Kup breathed into Hot Rod's mouth, filling the younger mech's oral cavity with the sharp tang of his cygar. Hot Rod pulled away coughing and wheezing, his face twisting in a grimace at the taste. He even stuck his glossa out from the taste, as if it would help remove it.
Kup chuckled, "That's what you get for getting impatient punk."
Hot Rod squinted a glare at him as he continued to cough. "Fragger."
"Yeah, yeah, maybe wait until I expel the smoke before you kiss me." Kup patted Hot Rod's hip with his free hand. "Gonna try to wait from now on?"
The coughing finally subsided, Hot Rod grinning lopsided as he moved back in for a peck. "Good luck with that."
"Punk."
"Old mech."