There’s something peculiar about music, Bluestreak muses as he settles briefly with a cube, having only a short pause before his next shift started. Yes, something very peculiar, especially the one Blaster keeps blasting on the Rec Room speakers. He knows it’s Blaster’s choice, because Jazz’s owns are usually less exotics. Except, Bluestreak is not quite sure what he finds peculiar about it, exactly. It’s not a bad tune, for sure, but it isn’t one Bluestreak fancies much. It’s a melody from Earth.
Oh, the Praxian loves Earth music, really, especially the classical kind because he finds it very soothing. But honestly, it holds nothing to the sweet electronic tunes he listened to back when he was a youngling on Cybertron.
Blaster doesn’t listen to anything soothing, though. It’s always loud, and noisy, and he dances and sings along with whatever he’s listening to. Except, this time, he doesn’t, Bluestreak realizes, finally noticing what was bothering him so much. Instead of being right in the middle of the room, tangling with Jazz to see who the best dancer is, the Cassettes’ Holder is slumping against the large speakers. He doesn’t move much, he just bobs his head to the rhythm of the music, and perhaps he’s actually singing a little, since his lips components are moving, but it’s hard to say, at this distance.
In itself, it’s very unusual, though nobody else seems to have picked on it. Instead, they’re all cheering Jazz as he practices some unusual moves, and laugh and cheer at those who adventure themselves to try, like Bumblebee or Sideswipe.
It mustn’t be very comfortable, Bluestreak thinks as the music gains in speed and tempo. Being so close to the speakers, at such a volume, the sounds must cause vibrations strong enough to reverberate in the orange mech’s entire frame. Surprisingly, Blaster seems to like that, because… Well, because his head is thrown back, and the grey mech can see him shake with… pleasure?
It’s not pain, of that he is sure. But what could the other mech could feel so pleasurable… about… vibrat…
Feeling suddenly flustered, the doorwinged mech quickly lowered his head to stare at his energon cubes, vents working hard. He sneaked another look at Blaster’s sprawled form. Despite laying half against the massive stereo and half on the floor, the other mech had thrown one of his legs over a chair. Bluestreak used a magnification on his optics, seeking some proofs he was incorrect. His optics weren’t as good as, say, Ratchet, but as a sniper, the Praxian had some very good sight enhancement mods. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps Blaster was just feeling low and just wanted some rest while profiting from both the music he liked so much and the company of a few friends. Perhaps Bluestreak was just having dirty, shameful thoughts. However, to his dismay, he found what he had kinda hoped not to find. It was just some scarce drops of purplish liquid on the inside of Blaster’s exposed thigh, but those drops were more than enough to make Bluestreak want to moan in embarrassment.
::Blaster?:: he send over a private channel.
It took a moment for the other mech to ping him back. ::Mmmmmm… yeah, Blue?::
The Praxian hesitated before asking very fast. ::Doyouhaveatoystuffedintoyourvalveanddidyoujustoverloadinpublicwithoutanyonethewiser? Because if it’s the case,t han it’s very, very wrong, and if someone notices, they’re going to tell Prowl or Red Alert, and they’re not going to be amused, and you’re going to end up punished, and… ::
Blaster pinged back an affirmative answer, cutting short the younger mech’s worried rant, to Bluestreak’s mortification. ::Uh, uh. I do. The one shaped exactly like your spike, if you want to know,:: he sends back with a teasing chuckle, making Bluestreak’s face heat up.
::Blaaaaaaaaaster!!!:: he keened. ::I thought you had threw it up! It’s broken, remember?::
Oh Primus, how he wished Blaster had actually throw it away. To this orn, Bluestreak still didn’t know why he had agreed to had this specifically made toy created. Except, Blaster had pleaded and teased and asked, and well, the Praxian had agreed. It was supposed to be a simple vibrator, except some time ago, it had stopped working properly, to Blaster’s greatest anguish. It had been discarded by the two lovers in favor of other... kinky little things. Bluestreak had honestly thought the discarded item had been destroyed. But apparently, Blaster had kept it.
::Throwing away a piece of yourself? Well, something so accurately resembling a piece of yourself? Now, why would I do that?:: the older mech teased him. ::Wanted to have it repaired, but it’s not high on Wheeljack’s priorities. So I had to find an… alternative method to use it,:: he explained softly, a silent moan escaping his lips.
Alternative… Of course, Bluestreak realized. The toy couldn’t vibrate by itself. So the only way to make it vibrate somehow was to rely on a external source… like the very loud music blaring into the room.
::Blaster, why?:: he groaned deeply. ::Why do you always end up doing crazy stuff like that? It’s not that I don’t like it,:: he added quickly, ::but honestly, it’s only going to put us in trouble because it’s not appropriate and perhaps Jazz will laugh but Prowl will not and Ironhide either and I don’t even want to think about what Prime’ll say because they would tell him eventually and he would be so disappointed and…::
Blaster cut him out again. ::Oh, love…:: he sighed. ::Missed you so much, Blue. I couldn’t wait until tonight you finished your shift,:: he hushed softly.
Bluestreak’s doorwings sagged at the lustful admission. ::It wasn’t so long to wait…::
::It is for me, Blue,:: the other mech answered. :: I wanted you so bad… Still want you,:: he added. :: But you’re working, and I’m not, and Prowl would have my head if I attempted to go and chat up with you and distract you. So I found the next best thing.::
::Publically overloading with a replica of my spike in your valve?::
Blaster smiled. ::I knew you would pick it up.::
::And the others?:: the Praxian asked.
His lover shrugged. ::I don’t care ‘bout them, love. Only you, and knowing you do know I’m waiting for you to fill me up and make me love tender,:: he started to singsong.
Bluestreak’s engines involuntarily revved. ::I will,:: he promised him. ::As soon as I can. But please, stop this before you get caught,:: he asked Blaster desperately.
Blaster smirked as another song started playing. ::Naaaaw, not just now, love. I like this tune too much. It’s so full of good vibes,:: he purred, nearing another overload, unnoticed by anyone… Except perhaps by Jazz, and Bluestreak had the sneaky feeling the black and white mech was making so much ruckus (well, more so than usual) only to keep everyone attention away from Blaster.
Why, the Special Ops’ head gave Bluestreak a thumb up when the gray mech glanced his way. Bluestreak shuttered his optics and silently promised himself to have a long, long conversation with Blaster in their quarters at the end of his next shift…