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English
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Part 1 of TF Kinktober 2025
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Published:
2025-10-14
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767
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1/1
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12
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To The Victor

Summary:

Breakdown had been promised a reward, now he gets to cash in

TF Kinktober Day 14

Notes:

I just wanted to write ab Bees fuckass spike and project a lil, tbh
Prompts: Oral||Arena/Racetrack

Work Text:

Come find me after.

Breakdown tore off the podium in a rush of too-hot vents after Bumblebee, attempting classy but ending up desperate as his fans continued to wheeze off his excess heat from not enough cooldown time. He didn't give a flying frag about the clamoring reporters or roaring crowd, all focus was on that gorgeous gold spoiler he'd been lucky enough to not see a sliver of during the race. Dodging and stumbling through the crowd in a high-charged haze, Breakdown was chasing it now, and losing ground quick.

"Sorry—'scuse— later, Swindle, I swear—no, thank y—NO THANK YOU, paws off the—Oh! I really can't—" On and on, the flurry went, a never-ending barrage made all the worse by his escaping quarry. Everything touched and yelled and dragged him back onto the track, and he was near tears halfway through the throng; vents gone tight, every showman's instinct begged him to keep it together while his frame wanted to shatter and sob into the ground.

Come find me after.

Half-delirious as he broke free with a final apology, Breakdown had lost time to make up for, and hightailed it down the half-full corridors towards Bumblebees loading bay with more agility than he'd ever offered the track OR the other Stunticons before.

Skidding to a stop as he reached his destination, Breakdowns engine whined an awful sound from the overheat and charge, but by that point he didn't give a flying frag. Because strewn out on a wire mesh lounger under a high-blast cooling vent, Bumblebee was watching him.

He didn't say a word, only beckoned with a crooking digit, and Breakdown shuffled in like a mech possessed, entire protoform shivering at the click and whir of the other mechs bay door shutting behind him. No escape now.

Not that he wanted any.

Falling to his knees at Bees pedes, Breakdowns spike came free without prompting, smacking onto the edge of the chair, and the mech chuffed fondly.

"Hello to you too, Mr. Three Lengths. Lookin' for something?" Nudging between his thighs, Breakdown only whined at the teasing. "Alright, alright, promise is a promise," folding away his modesty panels with much more grace, Bees lovely array spilled free like energon before a starving mech, sweet and inviting. "All yours, handsome!"

Diving in with gusto before the words were out, Breakdown immediately wrapped his intake around that drooling teardrop head, suckling and lapping and curling his glossa just right to tug on that sheathed hook nestled beneath the metalmesh. Digits wrapped Bees thighs and tugged his legs into place around Breakdowns helm, the blue and white racers frame going strutless as the world boiled down to that wonderful space between. Ever-receptive, Bumblebee squirmed beneath his affections, whimpering softly as he sunk further down. Tight, spasming calipers welcomed him in, and were the angle better, Bee knew exactly how Breakdowns throat would distort to accommodate him; not that he could enjoy the rolling squeeze of them for long, though, especially not after a race.

"C-careful, Breaker, 'm closer than —ngh— y'think." Grumbling, Breakdown shallowed his bobbing to just the back of his intake, glossa curling and rubbing against every protruding node he could reach with expert precision. "Hohfuck sweetspark, that's it, jus' like that!"

Thighs clenching, Bee arched into his overload with a crackling cry, spike pulsing hot transfluid down Breakdowns intake. That vicious barb of his flexed out, head curling in and needle-sharp point just barely grazing Breakers glossa in its attempt to lock itself into the wet suckle of his mouth. Still working, the other racer moaned oh-so-sweetly, swallowing down as much as he could before it bubbled out at the corners and overstimulation set in; he needed to stay there — held tight and wanted between beautiful struts in the near-dark— as long as possible, and though he was quickly growing twitchy with it, Bee knew too.

"Break—Breaker baby, ease up, just—just for a sec! Oh honey you're gonna be the death'a me— beautiful, hey—" he squeezed on Breakdowns helm until the mech regretfully slowed, high-charged optics turning on him "—why dontcha switch gears for me? So you're not at risk of a glossa piercing?"

He was slow to connect the dots, almost ready to object, and then it hit in a bloom of yes/please/NEED from his EMF.

"That's my mech." Carefully slipping his thumb past the stretched edge of Breakdowns derma, Bumblebee gently fished out his own spikehead from the Stunticons panting maw and readjusted his hips to fully offer his weeping, writhing valve.

"All yours, beautiful."

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