Recharge Cycle
Ships: First Aid/Vortex
Content rating: Explicit
Warnings: somnophilia, RACK, prenegotiated kink.
Summary: Vortex is sleeping, and First Aid can’t wait to play with him.
Notes:
Never written Somnophilia before so hopefully I did good! Had a lot of fun with this one. :D
(Inspired by spite at claims this kink can never be consensual. Which would mean people who have narcolepsy or other conditions that cause unconsciousness at inconvenient times including during sex aren’t ‘allowed’ to pre-negotiate consent for those instances or have sex.)
Vortex slept on his side, a comfortable position for a mech with rotors or wings. They twitched in his sleep from the feedback of recharge. It was a content one from their relaxed and loose position.
First Aid reached over and stroked his digit down a rotor. He smiled when it flicked into his touch then walked to the other side of the berth and lay down facing Vortex. He wriggled to get comfortable and felt smugly satisfied that he had won the argument on spending the extra credits on a memory gel mattress.
He watched as Vortex’s servos flexed and the lenses behind his visor moved in his sleep. First Aid took one of Vortex’s larger battle scared hands in his, and he shivered when it reminded him of the difference in their sizes.
“I Wonder what you’re dreaming about,” First Aid mused. Vortex‘s digits flexed—the coding patch to prevent his claws extending was working as they’d planned. It prevented destruction of bedding and accidents while they played like this.
First Aid smiled and put his servo tenderly on Vortex’s chest. He felt for the unlocked access port to the ‘copters interface unit. It clicked open revealing Vortex’s retracted cable and port. First Aid reached into his subspace and pulled a nonconductive sheath over his finger.
He reached out with his digit and touched Vortex’s large port gently massaging it. The port was warm and hummed with a weak charge. He was probably dreaming about violence then, but First Aid would give him something much better to dream of.
Vortex stirred, his rotors lifting and shuffling in response to the stimulation. First Aid chuckled and continued to gently stimulate the sleeping mechs port. Slowly charge began to crackle—it couldn’t conduct through the sheath but that saved First Aid’s delicate fingers. Vortex’s charge kept building, his fans clicked on and his rotors began to flick in arousal.
“I think you’re ready now,” First Aid told an unresponsive Vortex.
He unlocked and opened his own interface panel then pulled out one of his plugs. Specifically the thicker one he had had installed for, well, larger partners. He plugged in to Vortex’s port and couldn’t help but shiver at the charge feedback.
First Aid sent a pulse of energy down the connection. It wasn’t going to be returned but that was part of the attraction. Vortex‘s rotors spread to release heat and his cables started to tense. First Aid sent more and more pulses his own charge building sharply.
Then Vortex’s body shuddered in overload. First Aid followed soon after. He snuggled in closer to Vortex and recharge called to him
Vortex woke up Feeling tired but satisfied. The little ambulance curled next to him still plugged in made him smile. “So you conked out yourself after giving me a fun time huh?”
Vortex used the connection to read the medical report First Aid‘s programming had automatically compiled while they were plugged in. He trusted the tiny Autobot but the report of his spark rate and temperature was satisfying—Vortex could pinpoint the moment of his overload.
He unplugged the connection and First Aid looked up with bleary optics. “…I fell asleep?“
“Yup. But don’t worry I won’t advantage like you,” Vortex teased.
“I’m not taking advantage—sorry I know that was a joke,” First Aid replied.
Vortex made a note again to ‘talk’ to whoever had told First Aid that this little kink was the same thing as assault. Both of them had experience with the latter and, oh Primus, did Vortex not like mech who dictated what other adult Cybertronian’s could consent too.
“Vortex?” First Aid asked.
Vortex flicked his rotors and the thought away. He wasn’t supposed to do things like that anymore, not now the war was over. Besides, he had an adorable dirty little medic in his berth.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told First Aid. “Now since you’ve had your wicked way with me why don’t you make breakfast?”
First Aid laughed. “Only because it’s part of after-care for both of us and because you burn everything”
“I love you too, and your petroleum pancakes with some extra syrup,” Vortex replied.
First Aid rolled his optics good-naturedly. Vortex stacked up the cushions to get them both nice and comfy for some cuddling and fuelling.