Chapter Text
It was an accident, really. Or a prank. Or both. Or anything that his team has planned.
Either way, he felt very uncomfortable with this.
“Can you move a little? My wing's nearly bent.”
Hot Spot moved. There wouldn't be a situation more awkward than this, being locked in a small storage room with a Decepticon and pressed against said mech. A damn hot and strong Decepticon Phase Sixer. He was pressed against his chest, feeling his sparkbeat on his back. The only sources of light were a set of optiques, a visor, and a slice of opening below the door. Sometimes, Streetwise could be so mean.
“Stop clawing at my wing?”
Hot Spot tensed, pulling his hand away. He didn't even realise that he had been clawing at Black Shadow's wing. Not that the wouldn't want, but fraggit this wasn't the right time!
And those hands were gripping his shoulders, pressing himself against him! Wonderful.
“D-do you think they're gone?” He asked the other, larger mech.
“I don't know. But they locked the door, remember?”
“Can't you just open it...?” He'd love to see him try.
Black Shadow lowered his helm, bringing him closer to Hot Spot's. “Can't without doing some damage.”
Hot Spot sighed; Black Shadow even cared about the condition of their HQ. There were humans in the HQ; even though they were downstairs, the noise would make them panic. It was the carnaval anyway, no wonder there were so much humans. This was only the first time Black Shadow was here and his team was very fast in getting to know him. Maybe a little too fast, so that they even dared to put on a prank on him. On them.
And he responded! Hot Spot didn't even know that a Decepticon Phase Sixer, whose job was to destroy worlds, would befriend Autobots! Not only befriend, fraternising with them! But, it was normal to find a Decepticon... attractive, right?
Maybe First Aid was right, maybe Optimus was right; they were just mech, they possessed the ability to change. They weren’t really a monster.
Hot Spot giggled a bit when he remembered about Blaster and Soundwave.
“What are you giggling at?”
“No... nothing.”
“Yes you are giggling at something and you are going to tell me.” Black Shadow replied, not even the slightest tone of threat or force in his voice, only teasing.
“No!” Hot Spot resisted, smirking a bit. They had also bothered to remove his masque. Maybe they would have the chance at gaining peace by small things like this! “You can't make me!”
“Oh, Hot Spot...” Black Shadow whispered, dangerously close to his audial. Even his smirk was audible. “You don't know what am I capable of doing.” He wasn't even threatening...
For a split second, Hot Spot thought of otherwise. He still had to be wary; he was playing with a Decepticon, after all.
But all his wariness and suspicion vanished when Black Shadow began tickling him. He laughed, trying to pull away from the touches at his sides. Damn Phase Sixer, he just knew where to touch. And somehow with those big thick fingers of his, he managed to enter the firetruck’s transformation seams and dug into it. They both laughed, ignoring the sounds from the outside. Hot Spot arched into the touch, grinding his chest to the Phase Sixer's, and in turn, their panels. At first, Hot Spot didn't notice it. But when he felt heat emanating from his panel, he whimpered, following his laughter. All the while Black Shadow stopped ticking his sides.
Hot Spot felt his faceplate heat up.
“Did you do that on purpose?” The other spoke close to his audial, until Hot Spot could feel the air of his words, his tone unoffended, suggestive.
“Uh, no?”
Black Shadow chuckled (oh Primus, that voice!) right next to his audial, sending tremors down his frame. Fraggit, Hot Spot, get ahold of yourself!
“Because you've just turned me on, and it seems your frame defied you.”
Realising that he was still so close to the other, especially lower area, the firetruck tried to put some distance between them, but Black Shadow draped his arms around him, preventing him to get away.
“Black Shadow...?”
Black Shadow didn’t answer. He just kept on hugging him, not moving. Hot Spot moved a hand to touch the Phase Sixer’s on his midsection… not exactly to push him away, because he couldn’t find the will to do so.
“You’re warm.” The other said at last. “You know, maybe they have their purpose in locking us both here.”
Hot Spot shuddered; he watched too much human college movies to know what that meant.
“So, do you want to do it?” Black Shadow purred to his audial, moving his hand to Hot Spot’s… interfacing panel?
Hot Spot shuddered, whimpering. He wriggled, trying to get off the larger mech holding him. “N-no! Get your h-hand off me!”
Black Shadow didn’t do such thing.
“Oh really?” Black Shadow whispered to his audial, very close… making Hot Spot shudder at the touch of air, tensing. His internal temperature increased significantly as he froze when Black Shadow licked his antenna, slowly, thoroughly, with one hand clawing at his interface panel. In an attempt to open it or not, he didn’t know. What made him feel mortified was the fact that he was enjoying his touch. No… he couldn’t.
He whimpered, hands began to grip the Phase Sixer’s wing.
“So? Still don’t want to do it?”
Hot Spot turned, trying to see the other’s face. His visor glowed dim with want, steam began collecting in its surface. Black Shadow smirked, as he took hold of the other’s chin, lifting it up. They both locked optiques. Hot Spot felt unsure about this, but then as Black Shadow pushed his lip, he didn’t think of anything else.
“There won’t be regrets?”
Hot Spot looked away, ashamed. “No.”
Black Shadow grinned, then leant down.