i wanna be exclusive, i wanna be explicit
transformers ;; hotlock ;; wc: 780 ;; NSFW, humanformers. originally written for kinktober.
back to writing! 
read it on tumblr!
Hot Rod’s back is pressed to the window of Deadlock’s shitty awful terribad car, and if he wasn’t blinded by how hot that is, he’d be a lot more worried about getting caught.
Deadlock, always the brightest bulb in the drawer, thought it would be a great idea to just pull over and start feeling Hot Rod up in the backseat on some random fucking highway while they were on their way back from buying illegal fucking fireworks. In the back of Hot Rod’s mind, he recognizes this entire situation as ridiculous. If they get caught fucking, which they probably will, cause even if Hot Rod can’t see the windows he’s pretty certain they’re fogging up, and there’s like, a million fucking cars going by, they’re gonna get in trouble for fucking in public and buying illegal fireworks, and Deadlock has a pretty bad record already and Hot Rod really does not want to explain to Kup why he needs 1.5k like really badly right now.
Beyond that, Hot Rod has approximately zero inches to breathe, but it’s kind of overwhelming in a good way? Deadlock is crowded in around him and the hot breath and biting against his neck and the feeling of Deadlock palming him through his jeans is starting to distract him from the illegality of what they’re doing. Hot Rod’s gripping onto the “oh shit” handle with one hand, and the other is tangled into Deadlock’s matted and fucked up long hair that he refuses to brush 5/7 days of the week. Hot Rod starts thinking about that for a second, but then Deadlock rubs the heel of his palm against him just right and it’s gone again.
“Deadlock,” Hot Rod sighs, “Deadlock, I– I can’t–”
“I’ve got you,” the assassin sighs, and moves a hand to start undoing Hot Rod’s belt, which is actually not what Hot Rod was getting at, he actually kind of wanted a second to breathe, but the way Deadlock is able to undo him with just one hand is kind of hot and it’s distracting Hot Rod from how foggy his brain feels. “Let me take care of you.”
When Deadlock succeeds in getting his hand down Hot Rod’s pants, the ginger groans, rolling his hips into it, feeling the assassin’s fingers start to run through his slick. “Oh my god,” Hot Rod moans, voice broken and strained, and Deadlock has the fucking audacity to laugh at him about it.
“You like that, huh?” Deadlock asks, clearly rhetorical, as a second later he shoves his middle finger inside of Hot Rod’s cunt and begins a harsh pace, finger-fucking the shorter as he lets out a surprised gasp, biting down on his lip. Again, Deadlock chuckles. “Yeah, you like it.”
Hot Rod throws his legs up onto the seat, wrapping them around Deadlock’s waist, as if to draw him in closer. Really, with Hot Rod pressed against the car door, this is as close as they can get. Hot Rod clenches his eyes shut for a moment, trying to manage the sensations running through him, and when he opens them again he notices the tent in Deadlock’s torn-up pants.
“Deadlock,” he whines, “I want– I want–” and another broken moan. He can’t force the words out, but Deadlock seems to understand anyway.
With the hand that isn’t finger-fucking Hot Rod’s cunt, he practically rips open his own jeans, retrieving his cock from his boxers. “You want it, slut?” He asks, breathing heavy. “Want me to fuck you against the car door, bitch?”
“Yeah,” Hot Rod groans, closing his eyes once more, and he really wonders why he was opposed to this in the first place because wow this is really sexy, “yes, yeah, I want it, Deadlock, please–”
“I’ll give it to you,” Deadlock tells him, and Hot Rod looks down again to be met with the studs lining the assassin's cock, up and down. He lets out a small moan seeing it, remembering how it feels inside him. “I know,” Deadlock says, in what is almost a mockery of a comforting voice. He grabs Hot Rod by his ass, maneuvering him into a better position for what is about to happen. “I know, you want it so bad, baby. I’m gonna give it to you. I’m gonna split you the fuck open.”
“Please,” Hot Rod finds himself begging mindlessly, “please, I want it, want it to hurt–” it’s so much. He really can’t help himself. Again, Deadlock laughs at him.
“Such a slut,” Deadlock groans, carefully lining himself up with Hot Rod’s cunt. “Bite down on my shoulder,” he instructs. “I’m gonna give you everything you fucking want.”