#posts simpatico smut twice in the same day lol

[robot-thighs]

I definitely poured my heart and soul into a TF sex pollen fic. There's not enough simpatico content in the world, so I'm afraid I need to start cooking my own food. Here's a little piece - full fic is linked on ao3

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“Brainstorm. How many times will it take before you—?”

Perceptor’s stern voice was cut off by the sensor-splitting wail of klaxons, punctuating the reprimand with the chaotic deployment of security protocols. Brainstorm sidestepped away from the wreckage of the current project on his workbench, coughing and sputtering smoke from his vents. Methodically, he grabbed the nearest extinguisher and sprayed the smoldering mess down, then quickly hit the switch for the ventilation hood. A miscalculation - but where? He stopped in the middle of the commotion to consider it, even as the overhead sirens filled the room with chaotic red noise. He’d looked at the equation dozens of times now. Hundreds, even. He couldn’t find a fault in his math. But predictably, despite his confidence, the material resonance converter had blown up in his face for the twelfth time. This had been the most spectacular one yet.

Perceptor had abandoned the chemical experiment at his workstation and moved quickly to one of the lab terminals to access the ship’s computer. The security blast doors lowered as he typed, sounding an ominous thud that undercut the sirens as they slammed shut outside the lab doors. His stance stiffened.

Brainstorm froze in dubiety. “What’d you close the blast doors for?”

“I didn’t.” Perceptor’s voice was sharp enough to cut above the alarm without really reaching the level of a yell, which Brainstorm found both breathtakingly hot and infuriatingly groundless. “I’m trying to disengage the security protocols, but the controls aren’t responding.”

Brainstorm cringed behind his mask and walked over to the terminal to loom at Perceptor’s shoulder. He lowered the sensitivity of his input volume but still put his hands over his audials as the alarm drilled into his processor. “Can you at least shut off the alarm?”

The look Perceptor turned on him was piercing enough to take a mech out halfway across the sector. Sufficiently chagrined, Brainstorm raised his hands in a disarmed gesture and backpedaled a step.

Perceptor resumed ticking at the console. Brainstorm almost had time to admire the collected concentration in his expression, the tiny pinch between his optical ridges that he totally didn’t think about kissing. Ever. Then the sirens finally stopped. Brainstorm cycled his optics as the red flashing subsided and the normal halogen lights of the lab came back in a harsh white. The sudden silence allowed him to let out a vent he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

His laugh was sheepish. Perceptor was still typing at the console, expression no less consternated than before. “Whew. Well that was bracing. I must have forgotten to carry a three somewhere.”

“I can’t seem to open the blast doors,” Perceptor said with a chill of irritation. “That protocol is not responding to my commands.”

“Huh.” Brainstorm’s wings tilted in some unspoken question. He turned back to his work bench and reluctantly started pulling at some of the broken components, privately sneering at the retardant foam that clung to the mess. He felt a pang of regret go through his spark. There wasn’t much here left to salvage. He’d probably be better off sweeping this entire mess into the trash. He peeled a blasted metal panel aside to find the wiring underneath completely scorched. Well, frag. The rest of his eventual reply came out snappish. “So what?”

“So, we are trapped in the lab until the blast doors open.”

“Can we override them from here?”

“I’ve tried.”

Brainstorm glanced over to find Perceptor giving the console a withering glare. “Do they time out or anything?”

Perceptor didn’t answer him. He touched the comm panel next to the door and spoke into it curtly. “Captains. We have a problem with the security system in the lab.”

An expectant moment passed. Brainstorm busied himself with scooping some of the mess off of his desk and into a waste bin. Then the comm crackled with a reply.

“Perceptor,” Megatron’s voice was colored with tinny apprehension over the speaker. “Is there a situation?”

“Not precisely.” Perceptor’s answer was measured with caution as he kept a hand pressed to the intercom panel. “There was…” He hesitated. Brainstorm craned slightly to catch his expression. “A minor incident, but I believe the security protocols were engaged erroneously. We have things under control, but the blast doors won’t respond to override commands on our end.”

“What were you guys doing in there, blowing stuff up?” Rodimus’s voice joined the comm, sounding farther away.

When Perceptor didn’t answer, Rodimus’s voice piped up again. “Oh shit, really?”

“The situation has been handled,” Perceptor said with a faint lash of irritation. “My more pressing concern at the moment is our ability to leave the lab.”

“We will have the security team investigate it,” Megatron cut in. “Will you be alright remaining in the lab until then?”

“No need to worry, captain.” Brainstorm maneuvered over to Perceptor’s side and raised his voice to the intercom, toweling a cloth over his hands to wipe away the retardant. “We’ve got plenty to keep us busy. Hell, we probably won’t even notice when the blast doors finally do open up. That’s how busy we are.”