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Pharma finished mixing his drink and turned to look at his lover. Tarn was seated on the bigger couch, the one sized for Tesarus and Helex together, with his legs crossed, his own drink in his hand, and his mask in his subspace. He smiled as Pharma approached, but it faltered when the jet stepped aside and instead sat down in the armchair that Tarn typically occupied when speaking with his unit. They usually cuddled together on the large couch before moving on to more deeply pleasurable activities and Tarn's naked expression easily showed his wounded confusion. What did I do wrong?
Pharma sipped his engex, letting his eyes slide over the handsome angles of his mate's armor. "I'm wondering if you would do something for me. It's something that I don't see nearly often enough."
"Tell me," Tarn said urgently. "Let me do it for you."
"I like to watch you play with yourself. Particularly when you look at me while you do it."
Tarn smiled again, clearly feeling that he was back on safe ground. He put his drink down on the sitting-room table and leaned back on the seat, his hands sliding down the sharp chevron of his breastplate, the biolights of his abdomen, the blocky lines of his panels. "I love it when you watch me," he said softly. "Spike? Valve? Something else?"
"Spike, I think."
The panels slid back, baring the closed iris of the spike hatch. Tarn reached down and—
"Wait. Touch yourself a little before you open. The hatch itself is quite sensitive, isn't it? Enjoy that for a while."
Tarn looked at him curiously but obeyed. His claws gently traced the plain grey metal of his array, teasing the raised rim of the hatch. He ran a clawtip lightly around the irising panels and shivered. Both hands joined together, fingers intertwining as he rubbed the hatch like a valve. He kept his legs spread so Pharma could see how well he was following orders. Tarn's eyes warmed like banked coals as he watched Pharma watching him.
"Do you want to open?"
Tarn opened his mouth as if to answer, but thought for a second. "I want you to tell me what you want to see." Clawtips ran across the iris again, hard enough to lightly score the metal, and Tarn bit his lip.
"Then open up, but don't extend."
"Difficult already," Tarn said as he obediently uncovered himself. His tip pushed free as his spike tried to automatically move outward, but he hissed and concentrated, forcing the device to retract. He kept his hands down to his sides, avoiding the temptation to touch.
Pharma tilted his head to one side as he observed the scene. "Just your spikehead is pretty enough for me to want to admire for a while."
Tarn looked down, his cheeks heating. He was weak to declarations of his attractiveness, as he sometimes had trouble believing them. He spread his legs a little wider, hands tucked under his thighs, trying to show off the tip that just barely protruded from the hatch.
"Touch it a little. Reach inside and play with it."
Tarn's ventilations stuttered as he dipped his claws past the rim of the hatch, stroking the tips down the sides of the spikehead. It pushed out to meet them and he groaned as he physically shoved it back inside himself.
"You can extend. Slowly. Tease me with it."
Tarn sighed with relief as he stroked the spikehead in circles and spirals while it began to emerge. He brushed his knuckles down the first few inches of the shaft when it appeared, clearly unwilling to take stronger action for fear that he would react too dramatically. The clawtips of both hands traced the lines of the overlapping armor plates as they followed each other into the dim light, the spike arching downward, only partly hard. He cupped his hand under the length and hefted it when it was fully exposed, rubbing his finger along the spine, watching Pharma as if hoping to see his approval.
"Mmmm. I never get tired of seeing that. Turn it a little. Let me see all the details."
Tarn gently began to handle himself, stretching the spike this way and that as he showed off the recessed pink biolights, the curved and overlapping ridges, the subtle raised patterns that caught so deliciously on internal nodes. Pharma licked his lips and took a sip of his engex. The device was continuing to harden, more from Pharma's gaze than from the touch, until it was difficult to manipulate.
"It's alright, don't hurt yourself. You're still as beautiful as you were the last time I saw you."
Tarn's gaze dropped again, accompanied by a warm smile. He ran his fingertips along his underside, letting the claws catch slightly on his ridges. The spike bobbed in midair as his hands left it.
"Now stroke it. Slowly, still."
Tarn's ventilations picked up even more as he closed his hands around his erection, the length great enough to fit both fists, and began to move along the shaft. He bit his lip even harder as he looked down at himself, watching himself harden fully, the armor plates shifting over each other until they locked together into one firm structure. He gripped himself harder and pulled down towards the tip in one firm motion, moaning, but then his touch turned lighter as he found himself at risk of going too close to the edge. A droplet of cleaning fluid welled up from the hole and ran down over the curve of the spikehead before falling to the cushions below.
"That's right. You don't want to be too energetic. You don't want to come before I decide that you should, do you?"
"No, I don't." Tarn still kept stroking, but his grip was loose. More droplets followed the first as his spike prepared itself to release his transfluid.
"Now a little harder. You'll be good and control yourself, though, won't you?"
"I will. I promise." Tarn was panting with the effort of holding himself back as his strokes became more firm. Slowly, carefully, though forcefully, he milked himself while reining in his climax.
"You want to come, don't you?"
"Yes, but...I want what you want. I don't want you to look away." He gasped after a particularly hard stroke.
"Then show off your hole for me. Put your claw inside, just gently. Show me how you can stretch it."
Tarn whimpered at the command and slid one hand down to the base of the shaft, which he gripped firmly to stave off his orgasm. The other reached out to cradle the end of his erection, running his clawtips around the little opening, the little pucker of dark protomatter that stood out amid the purple armor. He lifted his hand and slid the claw of his index finger into his mouth, watching Pharma, making sure that he saw how Tarn wrapped his tongue around his digit and licked and sucked it sensuously as he slicked it with his lubricant. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he lowered his hand again to fondle his tip once more. He positioned the claw over the opening and then, carefully, slid it just inside. He strangled a cry, gripped the base of his erection so hard that it had to be painful, and pushed the claw even farther in. The protomatter parted around it, stretching easily, and half the claw vanished inside the spike before the armor around the hole prevented more of it from fitting through. He held himself there for a few moments, vents heaving, struggling to control himself, and then he began to move the claw - little thrusts into the hole wetted with his spit, like a small spike pleasuring a valve. Shaking with exertion, he looked up at Pharma again, hoping to see his approval. Pharma smiled and nodded, very pleased with the action; it was taking considerable effort for him to keep his own panels closed at the sight of it.
"Please," Tarn whispered. "Please. Please let me finish." He didn't stop moving the claw inside of himself.
"You've been so good for me, Tarn. You follow directions so well." Tarn gave him a desperate, sweet look, like a starving mech being offered fuel. He craved affirmations of his worth, drinking them down hungrily, deeply nourished by them. "Let me see you come."
Tarn cried out as he released the base of his shaft and stroked himself once, pushing the clawtip deep into his sensitive spikehole. Transfluid erupted around the obstruction a moment later, spraying hard as his body forced it past the claw; it spurted far enough to spatter over the couch, down onto the carpet, onto the edge of the entertaining table. When it seemed as if the gush might finish, he drove the clawtip in even harder and came with renewed force, again and again, until finally he faded into exhaustion and his erection began to soften. He slumped back against the cushions, releasing the spike entirely as he heaved for breath.
"Am I a good lover?" Tarn asked after a short while, feeling the continued weight of Pharma's gaze.
"You are. You absolutely are. I want to reward you for being so good. What would you like?" Pharma smiled encouragingly at him as he sipped his engex again.
Tarn swung his legs up onto the couch and laid down comfortably. "Ride me?"
Pharma drained his drink and put the cube on a side table, pleased by the request. He pulled back his panels and began to swing a leg over Tarn's hips.
"Ah, not there. Here." Tarn tapped a claw on his lips.
Pharma grinned. "You spoil me."
"Say that you love me for it."
"I love you," Pharma said, and stroked Tarn's scarred cheek before settling himself over his lover's kiss.