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“Frag,“ Vortex mumbled against Blast Off’s shoulder, slumped between the shuttle and the wall. “That was amazing.” The overload had left his frame hot and his processor dizzy.
Blast Off’s engine revved. “Was?” he asked, and it made Vortex glance up.
Then the world spun. The shuttle’s words “what do you mean ‘was’” hardly made sense as Vortex was lifted and his back landed on the berth. Their interface cables drew taunt, but only for a second as Blast Off followed and crawled over him. Looming, blocking out the light, Blast Off’s dark frame was merely a silhouette in Vortex’ blurry field of vision where only the purple visor glowed brightly.
The shuttle huffed, blowing warm air over Vortex and tickling his sensors. “We’re not done yet.”
Vortex’ grin dissolved into a wanton moan when a strong rush of charge stole all coherent thought.