Fumbling Towards Ecstacy
Hyper Bonus Day: Pegging
MDK has five different quips at the ready when he finally emerges from the apartment bathroom. Upon opening the door, ready to lean against the frame with one arm with the best bedroom eyes he can muster, they all wither and die in his throat as his elbow misses his would-be perch spectacularly.
V1 is sprawled out across their shared bed, one leg bent at the knee and the other splayed open. It gives him a full view of their Feedbacker dipped between their legs, fingers coated with slick lubricant and absently stroking their clit. Their optic swivels to face him at the sound of the door gently colliding with the adjacent wall, half-lidded and dimmed to a warm gold already.
MDK swallows, the sound embarrassingly audible over the softly croning music from the record player in the corner. The husk, hanging awkwardly in the air, opens his mouth to try and salvage any sort of dignity he might have left when they unexpectedly freeze.
And then their shoulders start to shake with silent mirth, hand pulling away from their crotch plating and snapping him back to the present moment.
"Wha--are you laughing? Seriously?!"
It's then that he realizes exactly where their amused expression is fixed, leading his gaze downward. A long-suffering sigh leaves him as he floats over the bedside.
"I know it looks funky, but on God, this was the only one I could find." Granted, it's got weird ridges leading all the way up to the thinner-than-average head, but it's clean and functional, at least! "And let me remind you: this was your idea."
V1 only shakes just a bit harder in response to that, still chortling even as they gesture reassuringly. And, well. Yeah. he can kinda see where they're coming from.
The dildo he recovered from a half-collapsed shop, just three blocks from here, is made entirely of obnoxiously bright orange silicone, bleeding into a searing yellow towards the tip. The colors clash starkly against the modest midnight blue of the straps wrapped around his hips. It definitely gives off the distinct impression of having stuck a half-melted piece of candy corn to his crotch.
Fortunately, any worries that he might have killed the mood are swiftly dissolved when V1's hands reach up, wrap around his wrists, and promptly knocks his sense of orientation askew as they pull him atop them.
"Whoa! Hey, uh," A nervous chuckle erupts from him as metal hands run all across his ribcage and gravity rights itself, leading their gazes to meet somewhere in the space still between them. "I guess that means you're ready?"
To his surprise, they shake their head, and hold up a single claw with their Knuckleblaster. Their palms gently nudge at his chest until he's kneeling upright between their thighs. Their legs, hooking around his hips, keep him right there.
That same talon taps gently on the rim of their optic. 'Look', they say silently; he's long come to know what that gesture means.
And look he does, as their Feedbacker comes down once again to their crotch plating. His mouth is watering well before the digit brushes along their clit again, circling it with almost lazy flourishes before slipping farther south.
His hand reaches between them almost on autopilot, only to be gently batted away by their Whiplash arm. Their index finger wiggles back and forth, shutters narrowing a little with mock disappointment.
"You tryin' to kill me?" He murmurs faintly, a razor-hot bolt of arousal wracking him as his helm flushes with warmth. Another silent chuckle shakes his partner's frame, followed by a shudder as their hand burrows deeper into their cunt.
For a tortuous thirty more seconds, MDK watches V1 fuck themselves on their own fingers. Their fans kick on, small, erratic jolts wrack their frame, and he's at all times aware of their eye fixed on him. Their knuckles curl like they're fluttering--fuck, he's gonna have to remember that for later.
Finally, V1 withdraws their soaked digits, before employing them to part their folds invitingly.
The husk scrambles to get a hand around their plated hip, and the machine eagerly shifts closer. One skeletal hand closes around the carefully-sculpted shaft, and he quickly guides it across the remaining distance. The tip rolls along their soaked lips for just a moment, before catching on their rim.
A shuddering exhale escapes him as he watches the toy sink between their silicone folds. In turn, V1's back rises in a perfect arch as he slides further in with slicked ease. Moments later, he's sheathed completely, and the metallic whine that rattles out of V1's chest sends another heated pulse rippling down south.
"You good?" He murmurs, and the huskiness of his own voice shocks him.
The machine nods in jerking motion, hands clenching at the sheets below them. Both of his thumbs rub at their hip plating soothingly. As they gradually sink back into the mattress, MDK gives them a few moments longer to adjust, listening to their internal fans wind down to a safer speed.
But true to form, he feels their hips press up into his own, insistently so, not seconds after he makes this decision. Then comes a sharper whirr of unseen mechanisms, but this one almost sounds impatient.
"Okay, okay," He soothes, stroking his palm down their side before leaning over them. It's times like these, when they're tangled together, that remind him of how V1 is so much smaller than he is. "I got you."
MDK shifts for a moment, finding his balance, before slowly pulling out. Their chassis shudders against him as he slips back in. Hot air flows from their vents; a counter to the perpetually chill air of Lust.
He distantly wonders if he might come from the sight alone. Each languid roll of his hips is met with a rise in pitch from their fans, like breathing, panting even. It's just a toy, but he's never heard them make this particular noise before.
Their arms suddenly come up around MDK's shoulders, pulling him closer as if in a hurry. Their gazes lock together as he eases into a slower pace, the distant music continuing to drone on in the background.
This feels so... different from all the other times, whether he was making them fall apart or writhing beneath them (truthfully, more of the latter than the former). It's something in the way of how razor claws and steel digits alike stroke over the small of his back, across each bare rib with a feather-light caress. It's something in how he just can't seem to look away from them, rolling his hips into theirs in a languid but steady tandem.
MDK leans in, tugged forward by that inescapable pull, blisteringly warm and syrupy sweet. The machine's helm nuzzles against his own, 'kissing' him with gentle nudges. He slows to a crawl, breathes, presses back. The husk's hand finds V1's, interlacing their fingers together and pressing it down onto the mattress.
It's grounding, somehow; any remaining nerves he might've had all melt away like snow. They're utterly entwined, but he still feels like he isn't close enough to them. Like he just can't get enough of this; can't get enough of V1.
MDK is pulled back to the present moment just as he picks up on V1's hips nudging into his own again; less impatiently, but more like in reminder--
"Oh," He realizes he'd stopped moving entirely. The husk pulls back enough to look at them again. "Right. Sorry about that."
Their Knuckleblaster slides down to the side of his ribcage, patting it twice as if in reassurance. It flies down to the sheets below to dig into the mattress when he makes that first, firm thrust.
God, he can't believe he's making them shake like this. V1 starts to thrash beneath him--what had the machine said? Their first time doing this in years now? Hard to believe with how promiscuous they tended to be. Then again, it's probably not easy to find willing partners during an ongoing apocalypse.
But oh, the way they jump and whine with every buck of his hips; the way their talons begin clawing at the sheets below as if in utter rapture, ripping the fabric into slivers. How do they look when they come from something like this? When someone drives them over the edge with loving touches and relentless pressure?
V1's only free hand, the Feedbacker, snakes down their arching torso, and slips in-between their bodies. He doesn't need to glance down to know that they're rubbing urgently at their clit. MDK nuzzles at the side of their helm when it buries itself between his shoulder and neck.
It isn't long before their fingers start to twitch sporadically against his back, hips gradually losing their rhythm with every thrust. The husk picks up the pace and revels in the metallic whine that follows.
"That's it, " He breathes. They had to be close. "Come on, almost there..."
He backs away just a little more, wanting to watch them fall apart. Their optic shutter has squeezed shut, helm falling back into the pillows and baring their thin neck to him. V1 works their hand rapidly over themselves, bucking and twitching erratically as he plunges into them over and over again.
At last, the machine seizes beneath him with a high-pitched hum. A jolt wracks him as they come almost violently, back arching up from the sheets. He can hear their cooling fans skip and stutter somewhere inside them, writhing as though they could escape the intensity of their own orgasm. He fucks them through it with slowing thrusts, drawing out their pleasure for as long as he can.
And then they slump beneath him, shutters wide open but their optic gone dark. The husk strokes the back of their hand with his thumb, running the other down their overheated torso. It's only maybe twenty seconds total before light returns to the eye, blinking up at him blearily.
"You good?" MDK asks softly, and heaves a sigh of relief when they offer him a thumbs up with their Knuckleblaster. "Man, I thought you were gonna blow a fuse for a second."
That gets another laugh from them. How many people can claim to have seen the deadly machine like this? Fucked out, mirthful, relaxed. It just makes him all the more aware of how lucky he is.
V1 gives him the go-ahead to pull out. The moment the tip clears their gel-like folds, he gets to work on taking it off; a far quicker affair than trying to get it on. But it's worth it for the way their arms come up to embrace him as he plops down onto the mattress at their side, the toy set aside on the adjacent nightstand for the time being.
It's quiet, save for the familiar whirr of servos closing their lower panel. The music has long since stopped. And now V1 simply looks at him with that half-lidded, sexed-up gaze that he doesn't think he'll ever grow tired of.
"So... " MDK clears his throat. "Uh, how was it?"
V1 tilts their head, and their shutters slide into view just just enough to give him an incredulous look. But before he can start backpedaling, they burrow their optic into his neck and nod eagerly with a happy whirr.
"Really?" Another nod. "... would you be up for another round later?"
That he's sure he doesn't even have to ask, but they give him another affirmative motion regardless. Shit, he's gonna have to go hunting for more toys now that they've been brought to the table. Hopefully he won't have to wander too far from their little corner of the world. Lust is a huge city; the angels couldn't have confiscated everything.
Silence falls, easy and comfortable in the neon-drenched shadows. One of the machine's hands trails up his spine, caressing each ridge until they can tangle their fingers into his helmet plume. They're so wonderfully warm, humming quietly as their fans work to cool them back down.
Their Feedbacker touches his hip unexpectedly, making him jump slightly in their embrace. Fuck, he'd completely forgotten about that, too entranced by the sight of V1 falling apart beneath him. Metal fingers rub it lightly, an unspoken question passing between them. MDK thinks about for just a moment; about what he wants, right now.
"We'll take care of that, later." His arms tighten around them. "Can I just... hold you for a little longer?"
The warmachine shifts. He's about to release them when a thigh tangles with his own. They're flush against him now, warmth pressing into his front and the perpetual chill of the cold winds at his back. Somewhere in the middle, he feels just right.
V1 settles, and the subtle but telltale clicks of their body winding down, as they switch into idle mode, resonate against his chest. Yep. He is the luckiest bastard this side of the afterlife.
