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It's been so long since Tarantulas has had an assistant, let alone one so inquisitive, and without being ignorant to boot. It's quite nice knowing that inquiring minds still exist beyond the haze of combat. Frankly, he expected to grow bored or annoyed of Nightshade's company after a few days, considering they must still be young given their lack of a chosen form. But that never came, and instead he finds some much-needed help and company.
"May I ask you something?"
"Always, Nightshade," he answers, setting a welding tool down to turn and face his young assistant. "I admit, I missed having someone around to ask so many questions in the first place."
"I..." Why are they suddenly embarrassed? They weren't embarrassed until Tarantulas had answered them. "I have found myself noticing temperature fluctuations while we work that I previously suspected that you did not seem to notice, but I have concluded since then that perhaps you have simply learned to ignore. I would... like to know how you have come to ignore the temperature fluctuations."
Tarantulas' mandibles chitter against one another curiously. "Temperature fluctuations are common for most sentient creatures," he says, lifting his hand to his chin while the limbs on his back carry him a bit closer to Nightshade. "It wouldn't be surprising to know your body temperature fluctuates more than usual given your protoform state; sentio metallico, the material we are made from, is naturally warmer than our base body temperature, with very few exceptions." He reaches forward, pressing the back of a clawed hand to Nightshade's neck as if to feel their temperature.
"You don't seem feverish. Has there been any other correlation with these fluctuations? Nausea, vertigo, loss of vision?"
"...my... spark seems to beat faster, sometimes," they confess, looking down. They do feel warmer again right now, actually. Now that Tarantulas is touching them. It's strange. "And I have noticed that specific parts of my anatomy seem more sensitive to the heat than the rest."
He does take notice of the change in temperature, but he doesn't comment on it for the moment. Mostly because: "I believe I may have a theory." Though Tarantulas doesn't have a mouth in the traditional sense, it's not hard to hear in his tone that he's smiling. He pulls his hand away and takes a step back to give Nightshade some room. "You say you have functioned for only a few months, correct? And you have spent your time almost exclusively with other adolescents, both of your own species and otherwise? In close quarters, no less. Am I correct?"
"Yes, my siblings, and my parents. And Fluffy Ears," Nightshade nods. They're almost sad that Tarantulas has stopped touching them. "I spend the most time with my sister, Hashtag, but I spend a non-negligible amount of time with Mom and Fluffy Ears as well. We have our own spaces now, but that is somewhat recent. I built the dugout myself so that we were not sleeping on top of each other anymore."
" On top of each other, hm?" Tarantulas chuckles. He picks up a different tool to keep his hands busy as he continues. "I think you're just growing up, Nightshade. I imagine your siblings have experienced similar... fluctuations ." He sounds incredibly amused as he tinkers. "When they're at their worst, do you feel any kind of urge? An instinctive one, like a need to stretch your limbs or yawning when you need to recharge."
"I..." Do they? They have noticed strange feelings, but they haven't been able to make much sense of them. Certainly not enough to put them into words. "What sort of urge are you referring to?"
"When your temperature rises, especially when it's localized to a specific point on your body, do you feel the urge to touch it? If you do so, does pressure or repeated motion feel enjoyable?" Still amused, but still not telling. Tarantulas feels like he has to keep his back to Nightshade for fear of making them feel like he's laughing at them rather than the simple entertaining notion of adolescence.
"...sometimes," Nightshade admits. They're feeling embarrassed again. "I have... given into the urge only one time before, and the pressure felt quite... pleasant ."
Tarantulas nods then, and finally turns to look at Nightshade again. "Then yes, you're just growing," he assures them. "Your body is adjusting to sexual needs. Cybertronians, and I assume Terrans to a degree, use sexual interface as a means of energy release and mental relief, among other things. We have no need to reproduce in a manner similar to organics, and doing so is incredibly inefficient and unkind to our bodies." He laughs again, soft and gentle but far from teasing. "I would suggest you speak to your caregivers about these urges and fluctuations, or perhaps your siblings. I'm sure they're experiencing similar feelings. They can worsen among large groups of adolescents, after all."
“I do not believe Mom and Dad will… understand.” Nightshade frowns. “And I believe that my siblings would have mentioned by now if they were experiencing the same urges.”
He moves close again, reaching with a hand to tilt Nightshade's head upward. "You will find that there are always those happy to assist in any issue you may bring up," Tarantulas assures them. "All you need to do is ask. And you're quite good at that from what I've learned."
Nightshade stutters as their head is tilted up, and their optics, widened, seem to quiver in their sockets. Their face heats again, and this time, they even shakily exhale a little bit of steam. “I-I…”
Tarantulas looks a bit confused by the reaction until he sees the steam, and quickly draws his hand back. "Oh. I'm... terribly sorry. I've probably made you rather uncomfortable, haven't I?" He takes a careful step back. "Please, if you must leave and attend to yourself, I won't be upset. Your health is paramount."
“D-Did I…” Oh. That hurts. That feels like Mom telling them she’ll look at their project ‘later, honey’ while she actively laughs at something Mo or Hashtag shows her. And while they don’t have the most expressive face, they do look as upset as they feel. “…what… did I do wrong? I don’t understand…”
Tarantulas tilts his head and his optics cast downward in an uncharacteristic moment of nervousness. "Nightshade... You are young. New. Under different circumstances, I would be glad to assist you, even if you weren't my assistant and we hadn't shared this time together." Tarantulas explains. "But I simply wouldn't feel right taking something that precious from you before you truly understand it."
“…I don’t understand,” Nightshade insists, and while it’s far from petulant and childish, it still comes with the distinct flavor of distress, of genuine confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
"Interface is personal , Nightshade." Tarantulas insists, taking a half step back toward them as though he wants to comfort them. "I do care about you, do not misunderstand. But until you know what you want—"
“…I…” The distress is starting to clear, slowly but surely. Oh. They think they understand. It is so obvious. But then, if it is so logical, then why does it still upset them? “…I see…”
"Do you?" He approaches slowly now, claws drawn to his chest as though nervous to touch Nightshade. "What you're asking me, what you're implying... we can't. You deserve to learn these things properly."
“…I do not have anyone else to speak to about these things,” they admit quietly. “…my siblings are all concerned with other matters, and Mom and Dad are too busy to answer many of my questions on the best days. There are seven of us, after all. I am the most mature of the group, in terms of behavior, so… I believe they would simply trust me to research on my own. So… perhaps I should…”
Tarantulas seems relatively pleased with the response, and nods enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, self exploration is highly encouraged!" he chitters. "Not to mention regular overload is healthy for the mind and the body. Have you done any exploration yet? Your seals, are the still fully intact?"
“Regular… overload?” Oh no. Confused again. Nightshade has no idea what that means. “And my… seals? I’m sorry, what seals?”
Tarantulas puts a hand to his head and sighs to himself. "I'm sorry, I think I'm getting ahead of things." he apologizes. "Your interface panel. It will be sealed by thick, flexible mesh." He taps on the front of his own pelvic plating to demonstrate. "Until your body is ready for full interface, these seals keep your equipment safe from harm. Stimulation to the equipment can lead to an overload of excess energy, which is a very pleasurable experience. The pleasant sensations you've felt already, but increased a thousand fold."
The tapping is what gets Nightshade’s attention. They look down toward it, and carefully press their fingers to their own. “Oh… I have… stimulated this area. Sort of. But I did not break any seals.”
"That's alright. You break them when you're ready." Tarantulas insists, almost lovingly. "Not that anything terribly devastating might happen otherwise, but knowing when to do it or who to allow the privilege to is, in my opinion, especially crucial to the development of someone as young as you."
“…I feel I will be waiting a very long time,” Nightshade confesses. They don’t sound bitter, but they can’t quite explain why they feel the way they do. It’s almost the same as feeling lonely, they think. “If I wait for someone else.”
Someone else. The implication is clear, and Tarantulas feels his own temperature fluctuate, his mandibles chittering in a moment of flustered embarrassment. "Oh, Nightshade." He shakes his head. " No. "
Nightshade looks confused by his response, at first. But being as intelligent as they are, it doesn’t take too very long for the connection to form, and the confusion turns quickly to embarrassment, and then sadness. “Oh, I… I-I am sorry, I didn’t… I… I meant…” They look away, down at the ground. Wrap their arms around their own middle and shrink inward, trying to make themself look small, it seems. Why did that make them feel alone, again? They’ve never felt that with him before, only at home.
“…I-I meant… anyone. ”
Tarantulas feels his insides twist in guilt, even though he's well aware of the fact that he's not truly at fault for this pain. He approaches slowly, using his extra limbs to push himself upward and almost curl around Nightshade as he settles next to them. "I'm sorry." he says softly, placing a hand on their shoulder. "It was rude of me to assume. I didn't mean to upset you. But... you'll find where you belong and who you belong with when you're ready. You know so few people at this point in your existence. They will come."
“It isn’t your fault,” they tell him quietly. They flinch under the touch, but they don’t pull away from him. “…it is simply… difficult to believe. When all you have ever known is being alone in the middle of a crowded room.”
"Believe me when I say that I understand." Tarantulas assures them. "It took millions of years before I found someone I felt comfortable enough with for more than a quick romp behind my medical station." He laughs and squeezes Nightshade's shoulder fondly. "But... the universe had other plans for us."
“I mean no disrespect, but… you are Cybertronian . You came to be on a planet with many others like you. I only have a small few, and almost none of them want anything to do with me, or the interests I have.” Nightshade shivers, and finally, they fold down into a sit. “Mom and Dad do not know what to do with me. Most of my siblings would rather be out in the dirt, and the others have such specific and different interests that I don’t understand them, but I am expected to spend time with them, doing their hobbies, while they are not expected to do the same for me. I am… so tired of feeling wrong. And alone. ”
Tarantulas follows and pulls Nightshade's shoulder to bring the two of them face to face. He shakes his head. "You are not alone, Nightshade. I will never allow you to be." he promises. "One day your family may understand better, but until then, you never have to fear that rejection with me." He hates his choice of words once it's out of his mouth, given that he'd already rejected Nightshade and their apparent advances.
They, apparently, realize the irony as soon as they hear it, and they look away again, the hurt creeping back into their voice and their face. “…I…”
He's not sure why he does it, but Tarantulas quickly takes hold of Nightshade's face in both of his clawed hands, drawing them in close to press their foreheads against one another. His optics soften. "I am sorry," he promises. "I want to teach you everything I can. You deserve that. But I don't... I'm not sure if I..."
“…it would be rude, and wrong, of me to insist, if you do not… wish to do something,” Nightshade agrees, quieter than before and just as mournful, though they’re trying to stop sounding so dejected. “Not to mention how selfish it would be…”
"Asking questions for the sake of furthering your knowledge is never selfish," he insists. Tarantulas' mandibles make an odd noise then, moving slowly against one another in a wave, like fingers rapping along a table. He's very aware of his climbing temperature, though he attributes it to the sudden close quarters. "And you have yet to ask me as it is. I've only assumed."
“…I had not considered asking until you assumed,” they confess. “But when you assumed, I inferred that asking was pointless. You had already said no.”
His mandibles move in that peculiar way again. "And was my assumption not incorrect?" Tarantulas challenges. "I told you when we began working together that you may ask me anything you like, and I meant anything. "
“I… I don’t… know if it was incorrect,” Nightshade insists. “I… did not understand the phenomenon when I started asking questions, and I did not… realize that was… something to be asked at all…”
"Would you like to ask me anything now?" Tarantulas asks quietly. He's not entirely sure why his discomfort is beginning to fade.
Nightshade finds that they think they would. But it is difficult to find the words they want when the whole thing is still so new. Finally, after a short silence, they seem to come up with something, though it is clumsy. “I… would you…”
Why is it hard now?
“…would you… teach me…?”
There's a sound that slips past Tarantulas' mouth then, unlike anything he'd made in Nightshade's presence yet. A low grow that shudders and purrs all at once, making the scattered artificial hairs along his body stand on edge. His mandibles curl back, giving Nightshade their first look at his deformed mouth, all jagged teeth and semi-organic drool. His glossa curls gently behind it all as he speaks. " Of course. " And with that, he presses a gentle kiss to Nightshade's lips.
Nightshade makes a surprised sound against the kiss, but it is not an unpleasant feeling. The gesture is familiar enough, they have seen Mom and Dad do this before. And sometimes, Mom will do this for them and their siblings, but usually not on the mouth like this.
And it never makes them feel warm like this.
The mandibles along the side of Tarantulas' face almost seem to caress Nightshade's cheeks, keeping them close while he parts to speak. "You'll want... to lie down." he instructs softly. "Anywhere you feel most comfortable."
“O-Oh…” They don’t want to move away from him. But they trust what he says. Nightshade leans back to look around, searching the workspace for somewhere appropriate but, “…where… where do you suggest…?”
Tarantulas chuckles. "Somewhere flat would be best," he explains. "But if you're stumped..."
He takes a wide step back and folds into himself, transforming into the massive arachnid shape that captivated Nightshade upon their meeting. He fires a strand of webbing upward, crawling toward a corner of the crypt to weave a small but thick platform between it. Once he's satisfied, he crawls back along the wall and extends a limb toward Nightshade.
"...I am happy to accommodate."
Nightshade’s optics seem to sparkle at that. Over the period of time they’ve worked together, they have become fascinated with Tarantulas’ webbing. They like the feel of it, mostly, but they’re also beyond impressed by its strength and durability.
They laugh a little at the offered limb, and shyly move closer to him, reaching to touch the extension as they close the distance. “…I have every confidence in your…” Another little laugh. “…recommendation.”
He seems happy to manhandle Nightshade a bit now, because he practically yanks them in close, cradling them with two other massive limbs until they're safely secured on the little platform. As thick as the webbing is like this, or almost feels spongy, bouncy; it's quite pleasant.
Tarantulas transforms again, keeping his limbs wrapped around Nightshade all the while, and pushes them gently into the webbing. "Where else have you attempted stimulation that felt enjoyable?" he asks softly.
“…only…” The handling has only made them warmer. Their optics are wide in their face as they look up at their mentor, and they almost seem confused, for a moment, at the question. But they work it out quickly. “…only… um…” They reach downward for that panel between their hips, pulling their hand away in surprise when they feel just how warm it is. “…only there…”
Tarantulas nods. "Then we'll just have to find where else you enjoy," he decides. His arms finally find purchase on Nightshade's waist, keeping them in place while he leans in toward their neck to kiss them again. His mandibles trail nonsense shapes on the sensitive mesh, and contain the steam-laden heat from his mouth to make sure Nightshade doesn't miss a moment of the attention.
They can’t pinpoint the exact spot that does it, but one pass of his mouth and mandibles makes Nightshade gasp, their hands reaching up to grab desperately onto his shoulders. “Th- There… ” they note shakily.
He purrs curiously at the note. Tarantulas wastes no time in practically attacking the indicated spot, his glossa twisting between segments of mesh and his mandibles anchoring Nightshade in place. Two more if his limbs move to caress their frame, one behind their head and the other pushing beneath their aft to cushion their thighs. And Tarantulas can't help the moan that slips out of him.
Nightshade would be noting the way this all feels if they weren’t so distracted. Tarantulas’ noise is so nice , and the tight, not-quite-confinement is wonderful. And of course, there’s the feelings that are coming from his assault on the sensitive spot, prompting moans and whines from the younger, their whole body scorching as steam puffs out from their mouth and vents.
Tarantulas stops the blessed assault with a surprising suddenness, though the reason becomes clear rather quickly. He moves forward, every limb trailing to find another spot that might make Nightshade squirm. He takes a chance on a spot he's noticed in his (few) past partners, and zeroes in on a patch of mesh between the connecting pieces of their chest and torso. He's gentler here, chittering as he drags his increasingly warm glossa along the seam, optics aimed upward to gauge Nightshade's reaction.
“A- Ah! ” Another pleasant sound, though this is more of a shout as their body jerks in place and their hands clench into fists at their sides. “T… Tarantulas…! ”
He laughs gently at the cries, and moves lower. One of his claws gives a final parting dig at the seam as he finally comes to rest in front of the young one's panel. The heat is impressive, and he's quite fascinated to see that not even a drop of lubricant has slipped past the thick seals at their pelvis. Tarantulas smiles as he presses a hand to Nightshade's panel, giving it the pressure and attention it's likely been aching for.
"You or I will need to break these seals," he explains. "Once that is done, you can open your panel for proper use of your equipment." He purrs to himself and looks down at the metal beneath his hand, and muses under his breath, "I wonder what you might be equipped with..."
The pressure draws a much longer, lower sound out of Nightshade, and their body presses up into the touch instinctively. That feels familiar, but somehow foreign and pleasant all the same. They’re not used to someone else touching them like this. “…I trust you,” they assure him quietly, one hand reaching down to rest over top of his. “… I trust you… ”
"You're far too kind to me." Tarantulas coos. He slips his claws beneath the edge of Nightshade's pelvis then, following the line of the thick rubber seals until he finds their starting point closer to Nightshade's hips. Tarantulas presses a reassuring kiss to their chest. "You'll feel a slight pressure." he warns, before he digs his claws beneath the rubber and slowly drags them back down.
The whimper Nightshade lets out as the seals are disrupted isn’t one of discomfort or pain, they aren’t even sure why they make that sound. “…is… that it?” they ask, once the seals have been sufficiently peeled away.
Tarantulas pulls the seals completely free from where they'd once been, and holds them up to dangle teasingly in front of Nightshade. He laughs. "That's it!" The seals are discarded over the edge of the makeshift bed, and Tarantulas leans back. He keeps his hips angled forward, giving Nightshade a look at his own pelvic plating. "There is a manual release, but you should be able to open the panel with the same ease as waving your arm or closing your optics."
The presented panel clicks and slowly slides open. It smells sweet, tinged with chemicals like motor oil or gasoline, and steam rises from the lubricant soaked equipment. Tarantulas' valve is thick, plump, lined with glowing red lights like his chest and back, and the protruding nub at its apex is large and bright green. Perhaps the most notable piece of eye candy is his spike, slowly growing in size as it pressurizes to its full length. Like the rest of his equipment, it's thick, girthy, and glowing. The segments click against one another and taper at the tip, where pink tinted lubricant beads and drips firm the length.
Tarantulas' vents gasp for air as he tries to continue with the lesson. "The valve is... for insertions. The spike penetrates. Most Cybertronians have both, but... some have only one. In rare cases, some have neither."
Nightshade seems fascinated at what they see when they focus on Tarantulas’ equipment: it looks… they can’t think of the word they want. “ Oh… ” They recall him musing aloud what they ‘might be equipped with,’ and now it just makes them shiver with curiosity. They want to know, but they are, somehow, too worried that it will be wrong.
But, they focus on the panel, the same way they would focus on their arm to move it, and will it open.
Their own equipment is not nearly as impressive as his. Their array is somewhat featureless, like the rest of their body, implying that the appearance might change if or when they take on an alternate mode. For now, the whole thing is mostly the same silver-gray as their body, with a thin, short, smooth length of a spike protruding from just above their only-slightly-more-defined valve. Both are dripping, like his, but their lubricant is closer to clear than pink, and not quite as thick.
Tarantulas makes another approving noise at the sight. "I had forgotten how precious a protoform's equipment can be." he teases gently. He moves closer again, actually pressing his spike against Nightshade's. It dwarfs theirs, both in length and width, and he wonders to himself if that too will change when Nightshade does. "You are very pretty, Nightshade." he says softly.
That makes Nightshade feel very nice, they find. They like being called ‘pretty.’ But their optics are wide again, and fixed on the protrusion rubbing against them, both curious and a little wary. He had said that the spike, the protrusion, was meant to be inserted. But that does not seem as though it will fit where it’s ‘meant’ to go.
Tarantulas seems to sense Nightshade's hesitation, and leans back just enough to clear access to their valve. "Mesh is a fascinating material." he sighs. "It's built to stretch and accommodate large intrusions and quantities of liquid, both for the sake of rare reproduction and excess fuel storage." he explains. As he talks, one of Tarantulas' claws disappears between the plain looking folds of Nightshade's valve, sinking slow and deep inside of them. "With time... you will be able to handle quite a bit. "
There’s another of those startled gasps, and the mesh contracts around the intrusion, though that only serves to grant them more pleasant friction. Nightshade whimpers, thighs drawing together around Tarantulas’ wrist as if to keep him in place. “That… that feels…” they start, searching for the word they want. But all they come up with is, “… strange… ”
"But not unpleasant." He says it more like a statement than like he's checking on them. "And when I do this... " Tarantulas curls his finger then, pressing against the side mesh he finds and stroking in a 'come hither' motion. "...does it still feel strange, my dear?"
Nightshade keens at the motion, optics closing as they squirm under Tarantulas’ touch. “…y-yes,” they admit, nodding. “B… But not… unpleasant… ”
Tarantulas' spike twitches noticeably at the sound, another strand of thick lubricant falling from its tip. He gently rocks his hand against Nightshade, grinding his palm against their node while he slowly works another thick claw past their entrance.
“Mm— aaa…! ”
Nightshade finds that they have no control over the sounds coming out of them as Tarantulas works, their hands raising to press against their mouth not to muffle them, not intentionally anyhow, but more as a reflex they don’t fully understand. Their body twitches and writhes as those digits move, touching their insides in such a gentle, intimate way. Pinpricks of static creep through their lines, growing slowly in intensity and causing them to tremble.
“T… Tarantulas… ” they beg through their hands, though they aren’t sure what they want him to do once they’ve got his attention. “P- Please… ”
That makes him laugh again, mostly because he can tell Nightshade doesn't really know what they want. He purrs and carefully works his third finger inside of them, stretching them as much as he dares. "You don't need to beg me for something you don't fully understand..." he whispers. "But I'll give it to you anyway. Would you like that?"
The uncertainty that comes with, as stated, Nightshade not fully understanding what they want, or need, right now would normally make them uneasy. They don’t like specifically not knowing things, really. But Tarantulas is making that uneasiness bearable. In fact, he makes it almost exciting.
“…I… I would like that…”
Tarantulas pulls his hand away from Nightshade, pausing to let them see just how soaked his fingers are with their lubricant. He wraps his hand around his spike then, stroking it and coating it with the borrowed slick. "As you wish, my dear."
He looms over them, letting them watch his spike twitch in anticipation. Tarantulas lines himself up with Nightshade's valve and slowly begins to push, making sure they can feel every bit of the ridges. Their next sound is muted by the fact that they make it through closed lips, a needy little hum. It turns into a loud moan as he works his way back inside, the younger shivering as they do, in fact, feel every single bit of the texture on his spike.
Several of Tarantulas' extra limbs plant themselves around the two of them, keeping him steady as he whimpers and shudders more with every inch he pushes inside. He pants heavily above Nightshade, producing a mouthful of steam every time that brings with it a bittersweet smell like honey and vinegar. He's actually amazed when their hips meet. "Oh... look..." He indicates Nightshade's soft abdomen, which warps and bulges outward with the intrusion inside of them. "Your frame is still so malleable... "
Though the overwhelming sensations and the friction have made them shut their optics to process, Nightshade does open them to look down when prompted, and their own exhalation of steam is shaky as they reach one hand down to press on the bulging mesh, forcing down another small sound at the feeling it brings with it. “O-Oh my…”
"I'm... going to move." Tarantulas says, almost like he's warning them. "It will feel odd, and perhaps... uncomfortable at times... but if that turns to pain, please tell me." he instructs, before slowly dragging himself out of Nightshade and pushing back in. Watching the obscene way their abdomen stretches and distorts makes him keen and moan despite very little actual stimulation.
They aren’t quite sure what they expected when Tarantulas starts to move, but it isn’t what they’re feeling now. Not warm, pleasant friction sending tingling specks of electricity sparking out from where their bodies meet and racing through them. Their abdomen warping doesn’t hurt, nor does it even feel unpleasant. In fact they find the sight quite fascinating. They even swear they can see the ridges of Tarantulas’ spike through their mesh.
Tarantulas becomes more and more undone with every thrust, moaning when he pushes in and shuddering when he pulls out. He realizes it's been centuries since he's done this, and the last person he did it with was so different from Nightshade that it almost feels entirely new. He whimpers and jerks his hips, slamming himself rather harshly back into the young one beneath him. "Scrap..." he curses. "I'm... close...! " He feels rather bad about that.
“Cl… close…” Nightshade gasps, then keens at the harsh thrust, their head falling back as their knees dig into Tarantulas’ sides. “…close to what…?”
When he gets no negative response to the harsher movements, Tarantulas keeps it up, and whimpers before his response. "O-overload. It's when... the energy builds... and needs a place to go... so it just goes outward." He's drooling, though he has the decency to try and keep it from falling on Nightshade's frame as he moves. "I usually... last a bit longer." he adds, almost bashful. "It's been a bit since—" He interrupts himself with a sharp moan.
Oh. Is that what that static crackling over their frame is? It’s warm and pleasant, and it’s been building so quickly that they’d feared that there was something catastrophically wrong. “H… how do I… know when I am close…? ”
"It's... different for everyone." Tarantulas laments, shivering with another thrust. "Many d-describe it as a building... building static , that gets warmer and spreads across the r-rest of the body... and then pops outward." He'd always thought of it like untying a knot, the moment just before the rope comes loose when everything is at its tightest, and then suddenly falls open. But he doesn't have the mind power to tell them that. Instead, he moans again. "You'll... feel it."
Nightshade whimpers at that next thrust, and they wrap all four of their limbs around him, holding him as tightly as they can. "Mmnn..."
That's a good sound. That's a very good sound. Tarantulas shifts and pulls Nightshade directly into his lap, wrapping every single limb around their thin frame to keep them pressed up against him as he rocks his hips upward. The warmth is almost unbearable, reducing him from eloquent words to meaningless noises, and he can see the sparking of shared static electricity arcing between their bodies.
They cry out loudly as they're moved, and when they settle, they cling to him again, pressing their face against his neck. The heat from his body, the electricity sparking and jumping between their bodies, sending their mesh tingling. Their digits dig in as they grab hold of him, like they're trying to pull themself inside of his chest.
"T-Ta..." they whimper, muffled by his plating, another little cry escaping them as their hips twitch forward, toward his midsection. " Tarantulas... "
" There you are... " Tarantulas purrs. He's not quite sure how he knows with such certainty that Nightshade is near their overload, but he does. He focuses as best as he can on slow, hard thrusts, making sure to press against their node as best as he can.
Nightshade suddenly screams as the static overwhelms them, limbs tightening even further on Tarantulas and pulling them flush against them, their vision going white as they let go all manner of loud, lewd, desperate noises. Is this it? They hope so, this feels wonderful.
The expulsion of energy sends Tarantulas blissfully over the edge, doubling the static between them as he cries out in ecstasy, noises between animalistic and robotic spilling out of him while transfluid and lubricant floods into Nightshade's system.
The flood catches Nightshade by surprise, and they gasp, but rather than pull away, they actually press their hips down, like they're trying to squeeze more of it out of him. They're still panting steam while the feedback bounces between them both, while they tremble in Tarantulas' hold, and even when they finally go limp in his hold, slumping forward, held up only by his limbs.
Tarantulas whimpers as the high begins to fade, his limbs roving Nightshade's body to comfort them and keep them calm. When he finally finds his voice, he shivers and presses a kiss to their cheek. "So good for me... my pretty little darling... "
Nightshade exhales a smaller, final cloud of steam at the kiss, leaning their head into it with an exhausted purr. One of their hands slides off of him to settle over the bulge in their abdomen, not noticing, at first, that the mesh around where the bulge had been is a bit more bloated, the shape of Tarantulas' spike lost in the swelling.
He leans back a bit, cradling Nightshade as he does, and laughs softly to himself. "Was that... a sufficient lesson , little scholar?" Tarantulas teases. "You make some beautiful noises squirming on top of me..."
That was many words, but it does sound like a compliment at the end there, and they make a tired cooing noise in response. But goodness they're exhausted . Nightshade leans into Tarantulas' chest to rest their head there. They can answer his questions later. They need to rest.
Another gentle little laugh. Tarantulas slowly lies back, letting Nightshade rest their weight against his chest as he gets comfortable. "Rest, my darling," he says gently. His spike has started to depressurize, so he'll let that sort itself out in time. "You stay here as long as you need... I'm right here."
Nightshade understands all those words separately, but they're not concerned with comprehension right now. They are content to rest. So, they do, letting their optics close as they make themself comfortable against his chest. They'll rest here for a little while.
A few hours pass. At some point, Tarantulas removes himself from the unconscious Nightshade and gets to work cleaning them up. Luckily, lubricant and transfluid are easy enough to wash off. He pauses briefly in his wandering to pluck the discarded seals from the floor, and moves to throw them away, but thinks better of it. Nightshade doesn't need to know that he tucks the seals away in a glass container on his work bench.
Another hour or two passes before he hears Nightshade start to stir, and he crawls along the wall in his alt-mode to watch them and wait for their optics to open again.
Their optics blink open after only a few minutes, and it takes Nightshade a long couple of moments to fully come around. They sit up slowly, carefully, and groan as they realize that their abdomen aches a little, and they press their hand back to it. They have a fuzzy recollection of their mesh taut and bloated under their hand, but it seems to be back to normal now. Where are they? They aren't in the dugout, or the barn, and they're surrounded by...
Web.
"T-Tarantulas?"
He inches closer and chitters affectionately as he crawls into the web alongside Nightshade. "You were resting for quite some time. Exhausted, I imagine." Tarantulas nuzzles against their cheek. "How do you feel? I hope cleaning you up while you were in recharge helped with any lingering discomfort."
"I... feel much better now that you're here." They lean in, nuzzling him back, and wrap their arms loosely around his neck. "You are... an excellent teacher..."
Tarantulas laughs and transforms to sit next to Nightshade. "So I've been told..." he purrs. "I know you'll need to return to your home soon, but... do you need anything from me before you must leave?"
"Oh, this is nice enough," they reply with a smile, leaning into his side. They relax against his plating with a sigh. "...I wish I didn't have to leave."
"I know." Tarantulas says softly. "I wish you could stay, too. But for now..." He trails a clawed hand along Nightshade's groin, pressing into their plating. "...think of it as incentive to come back."
"I..." That makes them whimper, pressing their hips into his touch. "...I didn't need an incentive to come back. I enjoy your company."
More laughter, teasing as he toys with the now much thinner seal of their pelvic plating. "I enjoy yours, little one. And I wouldn't complain if we continued to meet under... even more enjoyable circumstances than academics."
"I would... like that, I think," they confess, and very boldly, they climb into his lap. They even rest their face against his chest again. "This is so nice..."
Tarantulas looks surprised by the sudden move, and he gently drapes his many limbs along every part of Nightshade he can reach. "It is. You are incredible company in every facet." He kisses their cheek. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"
"No!" Nightshade gasps, looking up. "No, not at all! You were wonderful..."
That makes him laugh a bit louder this time, leaving his limbs, but lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! I believe you, little one! Maybe I'll have to play a bit rougher next time."
"...maybe," they nod, looking uncertain, but not unwilling. "Maybe you will."
He misses the cemetery. Cool and dark and isolated. The woods are less so, of any of that. Invading wildlife, passing airplanes overhead, overgrowth in the way of his experiments. His only saving grace is the barely-functioning holoform, which he was only able to salvage with the help of Nightshade's notes, left behind on his internal records.
Tarantulas misses them terribly. He watches from a distance, close enough to the family home to keep an eye on them and make sure that no serious danger comes their way. He has to hang back far more than he'd like, but he knows he has to pick his battles like this.
But for now, under the cover of shadow, he's digging through discarded trash for leftover electronics. It's his usual routine. He'll strip the parts, refine the materials, and keep working on returning the holoform to its perfected state again.
Nightshade, on the other hand, spends more time outside lately. It's somehow louder in the dugout these days. They can't explain why. But it's been louder and louder, ever since the cemetery. But they're on a walk tonight, not just sitting on the roof of the barn.
They stop in their tracks at a sound in the trees, turning over their shoulder toward it. G.H.O.S.T.? No, it can't be. G.H.O.S.T. isn't subtle, not like that.
"...hello?" they try cautiously. "...is someone there?"
Scrap. Tarantulas ducks into the foliage, hoping it will cover the glow of his optics while he scrambles for his holoform. But then he spots the wanderer, and he feels his spark flutter. They're barely recognizable; he hadn't gotten a good look at them before. Sleek, dark, shiny, and their optics are a beacon in even the faintest of shadows. They're beautiful.
He slowly approaches the edge of the branch he's perched on and chances it. "...Nightshade?"
They look startled at the sound of their name, but when they turn to find the source, their optics go wide and surprised. "T-Tarantulas? Is that you?!"
He can't help the excited laughter that falls out of him. He practically leaps to the ground, rushing to Nightshade's side, his mandibles chittering excitedly. "You look incredible! Your alt-mode, it's beautiful! I knew you'd find what felt right."
"Tarantulas!" Nightshade throws their arms around him, laughing. "I missed you!"
He admittedly isn't expecting the hug, considering how they parted. But Tarantulas hugs them back as tight as he dares. "I missed you too, my little scholar." he whispers. "I've not been far." he adds, leaning back a bit. "Once I lost G.H.O.S.T., I came back here, kept my distance, continued my work. I wanted to make sure your family was safe, as much as I could. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."
"You've been... this close? All this time? " They seem both sad and excited. A little apprehensive, not shocking, considering how they parted. "...that... I can't believe it..."
Tarantulas immediately seems to regret telling them that, and he draws back a bit. "I... I know this area well at this point. It seemed like a logical decision to return here, and it had the added benefit of being able to..." He pauses. "...provide cover for your family, should you need it again."
The recoil seems to hurt more than the pause, but both seem to wound Nightshade, making them curl up in a way they haven’t in a long time. Arms around their middle, now mindful of the new armor plating. “…that is logical…”
He lowers his head. "I... I feared approaching you or your family would lead to more harm than good." Tarantulas gives an almost mournful pause before adding, "Creatures like me don't belong in the lives you lead. I learned that long ago. I'm happy to remain in the shadows if it means your continued safety."
“I… understand…” they nod quietly. “But, perhaps selfishly… I did miss you. The others… even despite how much they have grown… still do not understand me the way you did. Do. ”
His silent smile returns. Tarantulas nods. But he doesn't want the sentimentality right now, so he turns to another subject, lifting one of Nightshade's arms to inspect their alt mode. "This is truly a masterpiece, I believe. The colors are excellent as well. Dark and enchanting." He lets one hand rest on their chest. "Unaffiliated. I hope you can stay that way."
Nightshade smiles at the praise, even holds up their arms and turns slowly in a circle to let Tarantulas get a good look at them. “I quite like it. My sister seems fond of it as well, and Mom and Dad. I remember wanting so badly to show it to you properly, but… I knew why I couldn’t.”
Tarantulas circles their frame as they speak, looking over every inch of the new form. He seems beyond pleased, if a bit saddened by the confession. "Well... I'm seeing it now, aren't I? And you're..." He steps back, as if trying to see as much of Nightshade as possible. "... absolutely magnificent. "
They smile shyly, looking down to twist their fingers together. “…am I? Really?”
"Marvelous. Incredible. Beautiful. Gorgeous." Tarantulas chuckles. "You look more like yourself than you ever were in my presence before. That alone is impressive." He hesitates briefly, and then adds with a sly purr, "And quite a great deal more attractive , though I didn't think that was possible until now."
Nightshade seems flustered at that, reaching up to hide their face from view. The next thing they say, though, is careful: they’re not sure how he’ll react. “…my sister thought so as well.”
Strangely, Tarantulas seems unfazed. In fact, he nods. "I would be more disappointed to hear she did not," he admits. "You seem... nervous to tell me that. May I ask why?"
“Because…” They peer through their fingers, then drop their hands. “…it was only one time, but… it felt… incorrect. It did not feel like you. I feared that you would be hurt or upset, if you ever found out.”
"Though I greatly enjoyed our intimate time together, we're not bonded ." Tarantulas points out, not realizing that Nightshade might not understand the concept. "It's not my place to tell you what you can and cannot do, who you can and cannot be intimate with. I would hardly demand that of you if we were a bonded pair."
Nightshade does frown at the unfamiliar term, but they don’t question yet. “…I did not enjoy Hashtag as much as I enjoyed our time together. She is… not as skilled. ”
Another nod, but accompanied by a light chuckle this time. "That does make sense, given she's only existed about as long as you have yourself." Tarantulas points out. "I am glad to hear you're branching out all the same. It's good for you. For your sibling as well."
Now they just look uncomfortable. "I... suppose..."
Tarantulas pauses. "Have I said something wrong?" he asks. "If I offended you, it wasn't my intention."
"No, no, no!" Nightshade insists, holding up their hands. "Things are simply... awkward, between Hashtag and myself right now. Due in no small part to her 'branching out.'"
He tilts his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. I do still think that exploration is ultimately a good thing, but..." Tarantulas reaches for their shoulder. "I am sorry to hear that the experience was less than perfect. Do you... want to talk about it?"
"I have not even discussed it with Mom and Dad," they admit with a shrug, finally lowering their hands. "She was simply... overzealous , I believe. And being the more scientifically informed of our siblings, I was the most logical choice to ask her questions to, and to... experiment with. It was my own fault for entertaining the conversation."
That makes him concerned, and he squeezes Nightshade's shoulder. "If she upset or hurt you in any way, then it is no one's fault but hers. You are never at fault for that kind of pain, Nightshade."
Nightshade just shrugs a second time, wrapping their arms loosely around Tarantulas' frame. Apparently, they're going to repress it, since they change the line of conversation. "I... simply missed you."
He doesn't approve, but he won't push them. Instead, he sighs and nods. "I missed you too, Nightshade." Tarantulas hums pleasantly. "Tell me more about this new form of yours, then! I so rarely see something similar to my own, after all."
Nightshade perks up immediately, and skitters back to hold out their arms again to show off their new form. "We have quite a range of chosen alt-modes in our family, but none quite like mine, I am very pleased with it. I've gone flying several times with my oldest sister, but it's far more pleasant alone."
" Flying? " That's right, he'd seen a bit of that in their brief encounter. Tarantulas had been so angry that he didn't stop to observe anything in front of him. He's beaming. "You impress me more with every passing day." But then he leans, looking over their shoulder. "Are your wings retractable then? I've not seen that with many fliers."
The sleek little winglets on their back twitch, then extend out, several other plates on their body shifting to make them look slightly bigger, like a bird or animal puffing itself up. "I don't quite understand my construction, but it makes me very happy."
Tarantulas starts and jerks back, but his surprise is quickly followed by laughter. He circles Nightshade to look over their other appendages, his claws following the seams of their wings as he hums. "Incredible... A borrowed trait from the animal you chose to emulate. The shift in your armor, the thinness of your wings; you must be incredibly fast."
"I am almost faster than my older sister," Nightshade declares proudly. They shiver at the touch of his claws, but they smile. "I am much more agile."
"The little drone, yes..." Tarantulas seems to be lost in thought as he continues his examination. His claws are gentle but invasive, slipping under the shifted plates and between the seams at the base of Nightshade's wings. He almost wants to dissect them to learn exactly how they work, but this will suffice to
Nightshade gasps as his claws work under their plates and make contact with their mesh. They can't help but continue to tremble, and they remain obediently in place while he examines them. "A-Ah! T-Tarantulas..."
The noise seems to snap him out of his investigative trance, and he pulls his claws back as quickly as he can. "My apologies. Did I hurt you? I know wings can be oversensitive if not handled properly—"
"No!" They turn to face him, their optics wide in their face and almost sparkling. "No, you... you didn't!"
Tarantulas laughs, surprised. "Alright, alright!" He holds his hands out. "I'll keep going, if you'd like." He has a theory as to why they're so invested in him continuing. But he won't know until he gets his hands on them again, will he?
"...go ahead." They're not subtle, but clearly, in their mind, they must be trying to be. "If you are interested, I'm happy to let you look."
Cute. Tarantulas gets much closer this time, letting his warmth make itself clear as his hands begin to roam again. He follows the contours of Nightshade's wings from the pointed tips all the way down their spine, and then returns to his examination. He gives special attention to the mesh protecting the joints of their wings, putting pressure on the few exposed wires and tubes, dragging his claws along the underside of their shifted plating. He knows exactly what he's doing.
In Nightshade's defense, their endurance is impressive. They simply continue to shiver, not making much noise at all as he works. No matter how nice it all feels. But then he finds a spot under one of their wings that makes them shout, their knees turning inward and pressing together.
He's admittedly caught off guard by the shout, but Tarantulas recovers quickly. He wraps two of his extra limbs around Nightshade's waist to keep them upright as he returns to the spot, working his claws in little circles as he purrs in their audial, "A curious sound to make while I'm examining you. Something you want to tell me?"
"I-I..." Every thought has disappeared from their mind. Every single one. "...there was... but I've... forgotten it..."
" Poor thing. " Tarantulas tuts. He tightens his hold on their waist, bringing their aft flush with his hips. "That's alright. I'm sure it will come to you in time."
Nightshade whimpers then, reaching one hand up to cover their mouth. Though, interestingly, the other trails down, pressing against their interface panel.
Part of Tarantulas is quite proud of them when he sees Nightshade's hand moving. It's the academic in him, pleased to see that his lesson, however intimate, left an impression. But before he can become lost in thought over the specifics of sexual health, he actually lifts Nightshade up off their feet to press a kiss to the tender spot under their wing. And then he bites.
The lift had stunned them enough, but it's the bite that really gets them. Nightshade gives another loud cry, and their panel can be heard snapping open, though it's clear that it had done so without manual release, considering their hand had jerked away when they were lifted.
It seems Tarantulas is following through on his promise of being rougher this time, because he quickly turns Nightshade in his hold and plants them harshly on their back against the ground. He was kind enough to, at some point in the maneuver, put down a layer of webbing to cushion the fall a bit, but it only does so much. He laughs to himself. "Have you missed me that much?"
Nightshade whimpers, raising their hands to hide their face in what looks like embarrassment. And it's entirely possible to at least assume why: their panel is a mess.
The small, featureless spike is nowhere to be seen anymore, and their valve has been slightly re-shaped into something slightly smaller and more round than oval, with no visible external node anymore, though upon closer inspection, it can be seen just inside the opening of their valve, a small bright green construction among the dark green of their inner mesh. And the poor thing is absolutely drooling with that same thin lubricant.
Tarantulas' head tilts curiously to the side at the sight. He's certainly not disappointed by any means, but it is new. He chitters curiously as he reaches down to swipe some of the lubricant from their valve. "New tricks, hm?" he muses. "Do you want to show me how it works?"
Nightshade peeks through their fingers rather shyly, looking away from him. "I... i-it works the same as before, I assure you..."
"Really now?" Now that's no fun, is it? Tarantulas' mandibles open and his glossa curls out, licking his claws clean of the borrowed lubricant. "Perhaps a demonstration would be best anyway. I wouldn't want to hurt you in any way."
Nightshade shivers, but they do seem to understand what he wants from them after a moment. They reach down with one shaky hand, drawing their fingertips over the weeping orifice, trembling as they pause halfway up in their path, carefully spreading open the mesh to allow for at least a peek inside of their valve. Their node is a bit more visible when the mesh is held open, as is a small slit along the top wall.
Tarantulas watches with rapt interest, drinking in the unique sight as Nightshade's hand wanders. He eventually grabs their legs and yanks them close, widening the gap between their thighs and bringing the two of them almost hip to hip. "Fascinating," he purrs. " Go on. "
They whine quietly, pressing their free hand to their mouth to muffle it. Nightshade hesitates for only a moment before they let their mesh ‘close over’ again, stroking their fingers over the opening before two of them slide, shallowly, inside. Their hips press upward against their own hand as they let go a high-pitched moan, curling their fingers back only to straighten them again along the mesh.
Nightshade really seems to have come into their own in this regard. They know their body well, how it responds to simulation, how to tease. It's entertaining to say the least. Tarantulas can feel his own panel beginning to heat up, lubricant threatening to seep from the seams. "I'm curious, my little scholar..." he says gently, as his panel slides open to give his spike the room it needs. "...did you learn anything new as a result of your furthered study?"
"S... such as...?" Nightshade breathes, pressing their fingers inside again. Their stroking is slow, they've only managed to bring themself to overload one time like this, and they can never remember how they did it. But their optics pop open, wide and hungry, at the sight of his spike.
"Using your hands or your mouth, for example." Tarantulas suggests, keeping his hips angled to make sure his spike stays in Nightshade's line of sight. "On someone else, I mean."
"... no," they admit. "Hashtag... was not interested in that."
"A shame, then." Tarantulas decides to delay his original idea then, and hooks two of his limbs around Nightshade's legs to pull them up around his shoulders. "I suppose I'll just have to teach you again." And without much hesitation, he sinks his glossa into their valve.
" Aah! " Nightshade's hands fall away from their face and valve, flailing for something to hold, finally settling for the webbing beneath them. Further inspection would reveal that the inside of their valve is now textured, with uneven ridges in the mesh.
His glossa twists and writhes inside of Nightshade, covering nearly every inch of their valve. His mandibles clamp down on their hips, thighs, anything the little appendages can reach to keep the two of them anchored together. Eventually, he takes a chance, and his glossa twists to poke at the occupied slit.
Nightshade gasps at the poking, and the further investigation does reveal the presence of an inactive spike inside the slit. It's not very responsive, though upon the prodding, it does move a little, the tip poking out of the slit very slightly. "O-Oh..."
That's a good noise. Tarantulas pushes onward, using his long glossa to stroke the hiding spike and coax it free, giving it a warm and welcoming place to land in his waiting mouth. At some point, he glances toward Nightshade and hums happily at them, silent praise for their good behavior. It takes a long few moments of that coaxing, but their spike, still slender like before, but now slightly textured, does slide free. They shudder as their spike settles in Tarantulas' maw, their hips pressing up into his mouth. "H-How did you...?"
Tarantulas laughs gently against them as he draws his head up, detaching his mandibles from their groin. He drags his glossa along the thin length of Nightshade's spike, letting drool and lubricant drip from his mouth in the process, and takes an agonizingly long time to finally release them. He laughs again. "I can't reveal all of my tricks, now can I?" he teases.
"I... didn't think I still had..." Nightshade keens, hips still twitching. " Oh... "
That makes Tarantulas feel... good. He gently draws a claw along the underside of their spike. "A techno-organic alt mode can often result in the shifting of some organs or parts," he explains. "I am happy to report you still possess a spike." He growls, deep and affectionate. "And it still tastes delicious. "
Nightshade whimpers, finally summoning the strength to reach down and grab hold of Tarantulas' wrist. "P-Please be careful... it's... sensitive... "
"I can imagine, you poor thing..." Tarantulas coos. "Left unattended for so, so long. Here..." He gently lays Nightshade flat again, carefully straddling their hips as they reposition. "I'll give it somewhere safe to hide." There's another growl in his voice, trembling with excitement as he slowly lowers himself down on top of Nightshade's spike, whimpering as it enters him, still much warmer than he's used to.
That gets him a loud gasp and scrambling claws, grabbing at his hips as their owner struggles to process what's happening. "T- Tarantulas! "
He's kind enough not to drop his entire weight onto Nightshade's hips, but Tarantulas doesn't stop until his valve kisses their plating. He shivers at the feeling; with their difference in size, Nightshade's spike doesn't fill him like others have in the past, but the texture and the warmth, as well as the individual attached to it, is more than enough to make up for anything missing. "Shh, shh, relax... " he breathes, exhaling steam. "Listen to your instincts... Do as they dictate..."
"I-I..." Nightshade groans, their hips rolling up against Tarantulas' plating. "... I-I don't..."
The movement makes his optics cross behind their visor, and he laughs shakily. " There you go!" Tarantulas praises. "Your mind is incredible, but forget it for just a moment..." he instructs. "Let your body move on its own..."
Nightshade nods, and pushes themself up, first onto their elbows, then fully upright, posing them similar to the way Tarantulas had pulled them into his lap all that time ago. They seem relatively uncertain as to their next move, then, and try another, careful thrust up against their companion. Tarantulas helps a bit by keeping several of his extra limbs planted on the ground behind him, to take some of the extra weight off of Nightshade's hips. But aside from that, it's all them. He whines at the tentative movement, and nods enthusiastically.
"There... There you go..."
Emboldened by the praise, Nightshade nods, and tests another thrust. Then another. They're not particularly powerful, but the sensitivity is making it rather difficult to move too much. Luckily, the power doesn't seem to be Tarantulas' focus anyway. He's having the time of his life perched atop Nightshade's rocking hips, moaning and whining out mouthfuls of steam with every little thrust. His own instinct kicks in, and he grabs the collar of Nightshade's chest plate to pull them upright and over, effectively swapping their positions so the younger one is poised between Tarantulas' legs.
The sudden flurry of movement startles Nightshade further, but once they're settled and they have some time to process, it takes them all of a couple seconds before they start to move again. This is familiar, it's what they'd done the last time. The new angle grants them a bit more in the realm of power, though the sensitivity doesn't decrease much. So, they're already feeling the warm, tingling pinpricks they've been chasing since the first time they and Tarantulas had done this.
Tarantulas can feel the change in Nightshade's confidence once they're on top of him. His own sensitivity quickly becomes apparent from this angle, as Nightshade's spike ruts up against that wonderfully sensitive little bundle of nerves inside. He throws his head back, keening desperately as his claws dig into the dirt. “Nightshade…”
There’s something about the way that Tarantulas purrs out their name that seems to flip a switch in their head. Nightshade gasps for air and plants their head against the other’s chest, bracing themselves as they rock their hips. Initially, the pattern is rough and uneven, finding their footing so to speak. Not that Tarantulas seems to mind, given that his voice has been reduced to a mess of moaning, growling, and snarls.
Nightshade finds their stride quickly then, their hips moving in a steady, harsh rhythm that drives Tarantulas into the dirt. They take a chance and bite down hard on their mentor’s neck, an action that makes Tarantulas’ valve tighten around Nightshade’s sender spike. They cry out against his throat, and the sensitivity finally gets the better of both of them.
Transfluid squirts out from Tarantulas’ insides, splattering between himself and Nightshade as electricity crackles over their frames. Backs arched, mouths agape, the two of them whimper and moan and gasp for what feels like hours until the high passes. Nightshade’s spike retracts rather quickly back into its housing within their valve, but Tarantulas barely reacts.
“I… are you alright?” Nightshade asks, trying to regain their composure for the sake of their partner. “It happened so fast, I-I…”
Laughter stops them, as one of Tarantulas’ many limbs comes to curl around Nightshade. “Oh, my little scholar…” He sighs. “I do have much to teach you… but you’re doing just fine.”