Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Over the course of his service to the Order, Huyang never got an update that he didn’t need. His olfactory sensors were a must, especially while dealing with children that got younger and younger with every passing generation. It helped keep them safe. Gravitational sensors for his hips if things went sideways, metaphorically and literally, especially in the presence of force sensitive younglings.

The Imperial War was a little different. His upgrades weren’t sanctioned by anyone but himself. His new parts were chosen to blend in with organics. His carry on memory increased without an Archive to gift his knowledge to. His combat skills and agility improved drastically. Nothing the Order would sanction for him, even during a time of war.

He reasoned he already did several unsanctioned things to his body without the Order and Ahsoka. What was one more? But this… was different. This wasn’t for keeping children safe and it certainly wasn’t for survival.

Huyang wondered if his Maker would look down upon him from the Force and stars and laugh. Especially as he sat at a loss for what to do at his workbench with a phallus between his legs and awkward bundles of wires gathered on his workshop desk and plugged into his drives.

“What am I doing,” the droid sighed, shoulders deflating.

Why did he even think to take SM-33 up on his little drunken suggestion?

The two of them had been enjoying the music of a droid friendly bar, Huyang mostly keeping to himself and nursing a drink that was more pop than alcohol over the course of an hour and SM-33 was on his third shot of some mystery liquor that Huyang didn’t bother to ask the name of.

He couldn’t remember how the conversation had started, he just remembered that SM-33 shrugged his large shoulders at him and replied, “Aye, yep! Old Rennod had me built with a mod.”

“That’s-! Well, I never. I suppose you can’t put too much past pirates.”

“Ah, don’t knock it till ya try it. ‘Fact, I think some droid as stuck up as you could use it.”

Huyang let out a simulated snort, vents huffing, “Stuck up? I’m not stuck up.”

“Yea, ya are. You’ve got a rod shoved so far up your aft it’s a part of ya.”

Huyang gave SM-33 a glare, but the pirate droid rattled on. “‘M jus sayin', I think… maybe ya should try it.”

“Try it?”

“Gettin' a mod.”

Huyang was drinking and almost choked on the cocktail when SM-33 finished. He spluttered, “A mod? On me! You must be joking. I can’t even imagine- how would it even work?”

“I dunno. Not sayin' ya definitely should, just a suggestion.” SM-33 had a waved a hand dismissively as he said it but Huyang couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The innate curiosity programmed into him and harbored for centuries burned with questions. He wondered, pondered.

So here he was, sitting with a mod attached to his pelvis because he figured he might as well.

He was a professor first and foremost. He was meant to learn. Yes? Yes. This was a learning experience.

Huyang hovered a hand over the rod of metal and silicon, hesitating. A contemplative noise came from his vocoder.

He’s seen organics do it before, over the time he was on the run during the Imperial War. He just had to…

He carefully rested his hand down on his pelvis, where the mod attached to his pelvic plates. He dragged an experimental thumb in a circle around the base, and it made him shiver as feedback shot back at him. His vents let out a puff of heated air.

Okay… so far so good. He carefully circled his fingers around the length, and that made his pneumatics twitch. A tiny “oh” escaped him, barely audible over a loud puff from his vents.

He dragged his finger up the underside of it, and that made him tense, feedback that felt like the prickling of electricity shooting into his processors and making him shudder, his plates rattling with the force.

He paused to take a breath. His vents let out hot air as he tried to calm himself with his voice, “C-Calm, calm, Huyang. If you force a system reboot, you’ll never live it down.”

He adjusted his grip after he calmed and muttered to himself, “Fascinating…”

He pulled his fingers up, dragging his fist up the length of the mod, and that had him reeling. A burst of static erupted from his vocoder and his vents wheezed.

“O-Oh! Oh my…” Huyang laughed, breathless. He tried again, this time flicking his wrist with the drag, and that made his processor soar. He clapped a hand over his faux mouth to at least quiet his staticky moan, shaking already.

He tried again in that same way and it almost made him collapse into himself. “M-Maker…” he wheezed, hands stuttering.

Was this what it felt like to SM-33? He wondered if they could compare notes. The idea made his processors warm.

He carefully started a tempo with his pulls. It was a hesitant tempo at first, unsure of the bursts of stimulation he got from it, but eventually he grew used to it and required a little more.

His vents were whirring by the time that he was moving with his hand, chasing stimulation and the building overheat in his system. He didn’t bother covering his mouth anymore, only gripping at his workshop chair for dear life as his other hand worked himself into a frenzy. He was babbling, he was sure, curses in several different forgotten languages and pleas for something he wasn’t even sure of. His pneumatic hips clicked and ker-chunked with his movements, thrusting helplessly against his hand.

He let out a mechanical whine, steam coughing from his vents and then everything came to a head in a brilliant blaze that left his processor on fire. His hips gave a final jolt before he froze up completely, photoreceptors blinking offline for only a moment before his joints loosened and Huyang collapsed against his chair.

The droid shuddered as he started coming back to himself. He was still very warm, he noticed, his vents still whirring loudly. He moved his hand away from his mod, flexing his fingers and hearing the clicks of his old joints. Otherwise, he didn’t move, only sat completely caved in at his desk. His processor actually felt lighter for once, even compared to before 66. Or maybe that was the afterglow talking. He wasn’t sure.

He straightened himself, his joints groaning in complaint. He reached around to where the newest sensors were plugged into his processors and unplugged them before wrapping his fingers around the base of the mod and removing it.

He sighed, clicking through his comm contacts at his desk and typing a short message to SM-33.

“Can confirm it was good. I owe you a drink. - Prof H”

Chapter Text

Huyang was inexperienced in this field, to say the least. SM-33's faceplate collided with his, rubbing and crushing against his nose and helm like a particularly insistent lothcat. His fingers curled to try and grip at the surface of SM-33's rusty, pocked plating, holding on for dear life as static flickered over his armor and danced behind his receptors like fireworks.

The professor let out a startled noise when the pirate hoisted him up, gripping at his knees and pressing his back against the wall. Huyang let out an overwhelmed pant from his vents, gasping on a warble as SM-33 parted from him for only a moment, "T-Thirty-Three, wait-"

But the pirate was at him again, shoving his helm under his chin to grind his grill against his neck. Huyang grunted, head awkwardly snapping upward with SM-33's movements. A whimper escaped him as SM-33's grip on the wires behind his knees tightened. "Thirty-Three," the architect spoke more firmly.

"Yea?" the pirate's grill was still buried in the wires of his neck. Huyang shivered, feeling the gruff voice vibrate over his innards.

"Slow down, please... I'm new to this."

SM-33 grunted, shifting on his foot and peg leg, and then leaned away to let Huyang breath.

"Thank you..."

"Stars, the things ya do ta me, 'Yang."

Huyang paused at the sudden revelation of SM-33's feelings and he glanced up at the pirate's face. His single photoreceptor stared back, white and glowing and ever watching. "Yer such a pretty little thing, ye know that, don'cha?"

The professor let out a flustered puff of air from his vents. "I... I didn't think you thought that."

"Aye, so yer saying ya know yer pretty."

"Oh, well uh. I don't know if 'pretty' is the right word-"

"It is ta me."

Huyang gasped as SM-33's helm collided with his, fingers spasming at the shock of static electricity from the impact. "Thirty..." the professor whimpered, photoreceptors stuttering.

"Everythin' about ya, 'Yang. Those hands, those legs, those receptors, even that spec ya've got screwed to that big blue dome. Wish I could see ya without that apron more often. Those slim joints o' yers are pretty enough ta touch."

To say his processor was whirring trying to keep up was an understatement. Between SM-33's groping hands and the helm pressed against his, he could barely form a comprehensible word other than the occasional needy mewl or reedy gasp. SM-33 leaned away to give Huyang a moment of reprieve, watching the older droid chugging to keep up. His photoreceptors flickered, lids flickering disjointedly before he was able to connect with SM-33's gaze.

The pirate touched Huyang's hips, tapping his fingers on the belt of his leather apron. "Ya want this off so I can get a good look atcha?"

"Yes," the professor's voice was barely a whisper, scratchy with static feedback.

SM-33 made quick work of the belt, letting it drop unceremoniously with a thud and clank of the tools held in its pockets. SM-33's fingers graced the seams of his pelvic plating, and Huyang shivered, gripping at SM-33's shoulders tighter. "Stars... How could anyone say ya ain't the prettiest machine anyone's laid their eyes on?"

The professor let out a flustered laugh, "I'm old. I'm out of date. I'm a droidsmith's worst nightmare... I'm only 75% original parts."

"I ain't any original parts. And aren't we all. A droidsmith would blow a gasket if they took a look in this ol' helm."

Huyang chuckled. SM-33 leaned forward to press his grill against Huyang's faux mouth, clacking metal against metal. "I want ya ta shut up fer a sec, 'Yang, 'nd jus' take th' damn praise."

Huyang wrapped his arms around the pirate's shoulders, shimmying up the wall into a more comfortable angle. "Mm. I like praise. But you'll have to work at keeping me quiet. I don't shut up easily."

"Mm. I think I can do that. Ya still got that mod?"

He blinked. "Uhm."

"Ya still got it or nah, 'Yang."

"I do," Huyang admitted sheepishly.

SM-33 chuckled, "Lets take a look at it."

Huyang's vents shuttered. "Are you sure?"

"Do you wanna? Or do you want me ta just keep kissin' ya?"

The professor was silent for a few moments before he shifted, unfolding an arm from around SM-33's neck and pressed down on a plate near the front of his pelvis. He applied a gentle pressure with his forefinger and thumb, and the plate slid back with a hiss of pnuematics. The mod telescoped out as the plate slid away, and SM-33 whistled. "Fancy. Did ya make it do that, or was that manufactured?"

"I made it. It was... interesting to figure out."

“Yeah?”

SM-33 graced his fingers along the mod’s length, and Huyang’s voice stuttered, dropped and then rose again. “ Oh. Thirty-Three,” Huyang warned, plates shuddering.

If SM-33 was organic, he would be grinning so wide it would hurt. “Easy, ‘Yang. I’ve gotcha.” He moved his hand up along the mod’s length in a smooth glide and the older droid groaned, pistons and old joints creaking as he tried to chase the pirate’s hand with his hips.

“Atta, boy… Maker above, yer so pretty, lookin’ like that.”

Huyang shuddered, but surprisingly said nothing, instead wrapping his finger’s around SM-33’s wrist. “I don’t need foreplay, Thirty-Three,” Huyang’s normally light voice was rough and papery, like his vocoder got rolled about in a pile of sand.

SM-33 laughed, leaning closer in to press and drag his helm against the professor’s, “Aye, but yer body’s sayin’ otherwise.”

A low hum rose out of the older droid as the pirate fixed his fist and stroked the mod in a slightly tighter grip. Huyang leaned his helm against Thirty-Three’s, vents puffing. He panted, “What about- stars - you?”

“Ah, don’ worry ‘bout me. You just sit back and be pretty.”

Huyang tried to respond but all that came out was a staticky moan as Thirty-Three flicked his thumb over the head of the mod.

“Ya like that?” the pirate teased lightly, photoreceptor squinted in a pantomimed grin as he watched Huyang melt in his arms.

The old droid’s voice didn’t answer him, but the pistons in his hips whirred as he rutted against Thirty-Three’s hand with his strokes.

The pirate sung his praises as he worked Huyang into a heaving mess, more than willing to take advantage of Huyang’s silence in the wake of the stimulation stealing his voice. SM-33 grabbed the nape of Huyang’s neck with a free hand, with the professor’s ankles locked around his hips. He yanked the metal that caged the black wires of Huyang’s neck, feeling the creak of its plating. The older droid let out a choked noise, fingers digging into SM-33’s shoulders with their own accompanying creak.

“Stars, yer so beautiful. ‘Nd yer doin’ so good. I’ve gotcha just where I want ya.”

Huyang whimpered, photoreceptors squeezing shut. “Thirty-Three,” Huyang started in warning, voice almost completely overtaken by static.

“Yer okay, ‘Yang, I’ve gotcha.”

SM-33 could feel Huyang’s climax lurking right under the surface; the static electricity between their hulls had increased and the heat under Huyang’s plates was almost overwhelming. Huyang’s pistons and joints whirred as he thrust against SM-33’s fist, trying to encourage him to go faster. SM-33 was more than happy to give the droid what he wanted, speeding up his long strokes. Huyang let out a grateful moan, chasing after SM-33’s hand.

The pirate shifted his free hand, digging his fingers into the wires of the droid’s midsection, letting out a pleased grunt when Huyang’s movements stuttered and a burst of static released from his vocoder.

SM-33 rubbed his thumb over the wires, whispering against Huyang’s helm, “Good boy~ Keep goin’. Yer almost there. Let me see it, let me see what I do ta ya.”

The start of a noise released from Huyang’s mouth, but soon after it was swallowed up by his overload. His hips jerked against SM-33’s hand in a few lingering jittery thrusts before he locked up completely, his back snapping into a wonderful arch that made SM-33 groan, pleased. He rubbed Huyang through his overload, rubbing his thumb delicately over the underside of the shuddering mod, “There ya go. I’ve gotcha. I’ve gotcha, ‘Yang. Jus’ ride it out.”

He stopped when Huyang twitched, a whimper escaping him at the overstimulation. SM-33 only held him after that, releasing Huyang’s mod and positioning his hands under his knees to hold him until he was sure the droid was back online and could support his own weight.

It took a while for Huyang’s photoreceptors to come back online. He assumed from the occasional twitch that the old droid was still online, if edging along a full system reset, only overloaded and overheated. Eventually, SM-33 busied his hands by dragging one up and down Huyang’s thigh and the other thumbing the edge of Huyang’s hip where it dipped and disappeared into wires.

Eventually, his eyes flickered back on, his yellow photoreceptors blinking disjointedly before refocusing on the pirate. He blinked once more, his digital lids retuning themselves. “There ya are,” SM-33 sighed, a smile in his voice. “You alright? Took ya a bit ta start back up.”

“Yes,” Huyang replied, voice low and heavy, like he was still dragging it back up from the dead. “I’m okay. I uh… I’m still a little overheated.”

“Aye, I can feel it. Sorry ‘bout that. I forget yer tolerance is lower than mine.” He leaned away to try and give Huyang’s hull some space to start cooling down; he could still hear the professor’s fans kicked up into overdrive. But the professor’s hands tightened on SM-33’s shoulders.

“Wait,” Huyang started. SM-33 paused, waiting. The older droid spoke, sheepish, “Stay. Please.”

SM-33 blinked, then chuckled, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, ‘Yang. ‘M just tryin’ ta move ya somewhere more comfortable.”

“Oh.”

Thirty-Three maneuvered the lighter droid so that he was leaned against him on his own two feet. Huyang was unsteady a moment, before he reached down and pressed against his pelvic plating, making the mod telescope back into himself and close up. “There,” the professor huffed. “Not the most ideal to walk with.”

SM-33 laughed as he was leading Huyang to sit down on the cool metal floor of the T-6’s living area. “It ain’t that big ta make it hard ta walk with, ‘Yang.”

“I know. But it’s sensitive.”

SM-33 didn’t argue with that, only sat down with Huyang with a sigh, spreading his peg leg out in front of him. The droids sat in silence for several long moments, SM-33 listening to Huyang’s vents calming and Huyang listening to the occasional whir of SM-33’s internal mechanisms.

Huyang asked, “Are you sure you don’t need me to do anything to you as well?”

“Oh, no. I’ve got all I’ve wanted just from that, thank you.”

Huyang chuckled and leaned his head against SM-33’s shoulder. “Well. I hope you liked the show.”

“I loved it. Ain’t gonna lie, sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

That made the professor laugh, good and hearty.

Chapter Text

“It’s only fair I show ya mine after ya’ve showed me yers.”

Huyang blinked, asking anxiously, “Well, I… Are you sure?”

Currently, the two droids were entangled on the bed in the captain’s quarters of the Onyx Cinder . Since discovering their equal fascination in chasing after pleasure, for different reasons between them both, the two had gotten into the business of christening some surface of either of their ships when they were “in the mood”, as SM-33 put it.

Much to Huyang’s embarrassment, his workshop desk and the training room of the T-6 had fallen victim to this. The Onyx Cinder was next in line. At the very least, they had a bed SM-33 could fit on unlike the barracks of the T-6 .

Huyang was underneath SM-33, framed by the droid’s bulky arms and sinking into the covers and duvet that smelled like dust and cobwebs. “Aye, o’ course I’m sure! Can’t let you have all the fun!”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t want to return the favor-“

“Didn’t imply no such thing,” SM-33 corrected. “Here. Let me jus’… been a while.”

SM-33 reached between them both, down towards his own pelvis. He lifted himself off the older droid slightly to get better access, pressing down on a button inside his hips. Huyang heard a light click, and the pirate shuddered. He explained quickly, “Two part system. Sensitivity raisers and the mod activator itself.”

“Oh. Handy.”

“It is. Oh! Yes, I also have both.”

Huyang blinked, confused, “Both?”

“Aye. Rennod wanted ta put it in sometimes, too.”

Huyang took a slightly embarrassing amount of time to register what SM-33 meant before his vents let out a flustered burst of hot air. “You have-! You have a-" he struggled, his innate programming to censor vulgarity fighting with his vocoder.

“A cunt?”

“Guh! Don’t call it-! Call it a… A uhm…”

“A pussy?” SM-33 sounded amused, leering forward and shifting to continue straddling the older droid. “A vagina? A port? A good ol’ sarlacc pit?”

Huyang was covering his photoreceptors with the back of a hand, vents heaving with embarrassment. “… Port is mildly better. Sarlacc pit is the worst one.”

SM-33 laughed, rubbing his helm against Huyang’s. “Call it whatever ya want.”

Huyang blinked down between them at the sensation of a solid object pressed against his thigh and let out a flustered “oh” when he saw SM-33’s mod.

It was… proportional to say the least. Huyang was a measly 1.8 meters while SM-33 towered over him at 2.1; it made sense that their respective mods would follow suit. It was black and gleaming, and looked far more advanced than what he personally had installed. He didn’t see the port that SM-33 spoke about, at least not from the angle he was at.

Huyang reached down between them, whispering, “Oh my. That’s… a rather impressive bit of machinery you have, Thirty-Three.”

SM-33 chuckled. The mod twitched. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were tellin’ me ya liked the shape and size of me dick.”

Huyang hummed, not responding to the jibe, but asked, hand hovering, “May I?”

“Aye. Aye, o’ course ye can.”

Huyang scooted himself down the bed a little further and SM-33 helped, lifting his hips to let Huyang’s hand wander lower. The professor’s fingers graced the side of the mod and SM-33 twitched at the contact. “Mm… forgot what that felt like.”

Huyang tilted his head, reaching and applying a more firm pressure to the underside of the rod. He could feel the slight give of silicon. Were those hydraulics in there?

SM-33’s hips twitched. Huyang proceeded down, feeling with his fingers underneath until-

A gravely groan escaped the pirate above him as the professor came across the port. His fingers dipped slightly into the groove, and he found it had a surprising amount of give. Huyang whispered, voice hushed and reverent, “Oh my… oh my . It almost feels organic. Such a fascinating arrangement to the hydraulic system…”

Huyang prodded and SM-33 shuddered. “Professor,” SM-33 growled and Huyang paused. “I don’ mean ta interrupt and I know yer interested, but can ya examine me later? We’re in th’ middle of somethin’.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Of course,” Huyang laughed, sheepish and awkward. “My sincere apologies. I didn’t mean to tease you.”

SM-33 let out a noise of confirmation and Huyang ducked back down to look between them. He pressed his finger against the plush groove of the port and SM-33 sighed, arms shaking. “Mmgh… stroke it,” SM-33 commanded, glaring down with his singular eye. “That’ll get it somewhere faster.” There was a grin in his voice as he added, “I wanna feel ya. Take ya in ‘nd swallow ya whole.”

Huyang let out a flustered noise, but moved his hand away and whispered, “Hold on, I need to…”

He pressed down on his own pelvic armor, and felt the plate come away with a hiss of pneumatics. SM-33 growled above him, eager and waiting.

Huyang reached between them, sinking two fingers over the groove and applying some pressure. SM-33 gasped, joints twitching with a few clicks. “Oh, yea… now we’re gettin’ somewhere.” SM-33’s hips pressed down against Huyang’s hand, to force the droid to apply more pressure.

Huyang gasped softly as SM-33 ground his mod against his pelvis, easily pinning his own against his plates as well. “S-stars above! Thirty-Three!” Huyang groaned, fingers twitching and spasming in their work.

SM-33 only chuckled, dragging his hips against Huyang’s in a messy thrust. Huyang froze up in his work completely, photoreceptors squinting through the stimuli that shot through his processor like an arch of electricity.

SM-33 asked, “Ya want me ta take over?”

“N-no,” Huyang’s voice stuttered, full of static feedback. “Keep going. I’ll continue.”

SM-33 tilted his head but leaned down to continue with his movements. There was something Huyang and SM-33 both had in common: they were both stubborn as mules. If Huyang wanted to do something, he did it.

To the professor’s credit, he kept up, despite the tremble in his hands and the occasional rear of his head and offlining of his photoreceptors.

Huyang sunk a finger inside of SM-33’s port and the pirate gasped, hips twitching. “Oh… oh yes~ There ya are…” SM-33 moaned. He leaned into Huyang’s hand, and the joints of the professor’s finger curled inside of him.

Huyang whispered, “Fascinating… are there clampers in here?”

“Ugh… Shut up ‘nd finger me, ‘Yang. I’ll answer later.”

Huyang blinked, but he leaned up and rubbed his helm against SM-33’s. “Of course. I wasn’t planning otherwise.”

Huyang brought his finger out and then back in, firmly massaging the port’s insides as he rubbed his helm against SM-33’s face and clacked his faux mouth against his grill. Thirty-Three was rocking with Huyang’s ministrations, his voice lowered into gravelly moans and quiet praise. He gasped softly as Huyang was able to push a second finger inside, and then a third. SM-33’s joints and pistons whirred, vents heaving as his system took in the stimuli like a hardy boat braving a storm. He knew he was chasing his own high currently, feeling his rocking hips growing more urgent.

Then he remembered what he had planned, and he stopped himself, gasping, “S-stop, stop, ‘Yang! I… I’m gonna over-overload at this rate.”

Huyang paused as was requested, his fingers still sat deep inside the port. “Is that not the goal?”

SM-33 chuckled, “I wanted ta ride yer mod, not yer hand.”

Huyang’s lidded photoreceptors widened.

“Eh. If that’s okay?”

“Don’t we… we need a lubricant don’t we?”

“I self lubricate. I’ve got more than enough fluid reserves fer us both.”

Huyang glanced away, to the side, and then back up at SM-33.

“Are ya nervous?”

“… Yes,” Huyang admitted softly. “What if I overload?”

“Well, I can finish meself off.”

Huyang’s lids narrowed sadly. Obviously, that didn’t please the other droid. “That’s not fair…”

“Well, here, we’ll take it slow. I’ve got both, remember? Way more stimuli ta handle than ya. Ya can play with the ol’ stinger while ‘m ridin’ ya.”

“I’d rather you not call it that.”

“Call what what? Th’ stinger?”

Huyang groaned, “If you promise to stop giving your mods awful nicknames, I’ll agree.”

“Fine, fine,” SM-33 chuckled. He shifted, raising his hips to slide off Huyang’s fingers. The pirate grunted, shivering with the wet slip of lubricated metal against silicon. Huyang stared at his fingers in fascination for a moment before reaching between them and stroking his own mod with his wet fingers.

He shuddered with the contact, a huff of hot air heaving out of his vents. The pirate watched him, photoreceptor staring as Huyang’s fist slid up and down his length to prep himself. SM-33 reached out after a couple of strokes, gripping Huyang's wrist and pulling his hand away. SM-33 positioned his port over Huyang’s hips, grabbing the mod delicately and pressing the head against the port’s entrance.

Huyang gasped softly. He had felt the plush warmth of SM-33's internals on his hand as he was working the droid, but the temperature change pressing against his mod was different. He rasped, "You're- You're so warm ."

"Aye, I'm a little overheated. Do you like it?" There was a grin in SM-33's voice.

Before Huyang could respond, his vocoder screeched with static feedback as the large droid sunk down on him, taking the head of the mod inside of his port. SM-33's head reared back, a gravelly groan etched with his own static rumbling out of him. Huyang's hands flew to SM-33's hips, fingers curling desperately at the rusty metal, leaving tiny scratches of white from his chrome paintjob.

Huyang stuttered out a curse in a long forgotten language, plates shuddering and vents wheezing. His photoreceptors shuttered open to look up at SM-33 through a narrow squint, steam rising from around his neck port and faceplates. "T-Thirty-Three," the professor rasped, trying to keep his voice under control.

SM-33's hand reached up, touching Huyang's cheek. He rubbed a thumb over the metal and hummed when he felt the droid lean into the touch. "Good boy, 'Yang~ Yer doin' so good. Jus' a little more and then we'll really start movin'."

"There's more?" Huyang panted, stunned.

"O' course there is! Does it feel like 've got all of ya?"

"I can't tell."

"Oof. Yea, that explains it. I'll go slow. Ye let me know if ya need me ta stop, yea?"

Huyang blinked once, twice, trying to cobble together something of his processors. "Yes. Yes, I will."

"A'ight. Tap me if yer vocoder ain't workin'."

SM-33 took a moment to resituate himself on top of the older droid, before sinking down further, careful and slow as if he was handling glass.

Huyang gasped softly, vents heaving as his fingers dug into the rim of SM-33's pelvis. His head lolled backward against the mattress, photoreceptors flickering shut and his jaw open in a noiseless moan.

A pleased noise sounded above him, and he felt SM-33 drag his thumb along his bottom jaw. "Maker, yer so kriffin' pretty. Look atcha, all blissed out because o' me."

One of his photoreceptors shuttered open in a thin line and his voice came out more like a whimper, "Thirty-Three..."

"I've gotcha, 'Yang. Almost there."

He felt his pelvis sink into the old mattress with a gentle clink of metal against metal, and SM-33 sighed, "There we are. All snug." His hips shifted, micro pistons and joints whirring with the movement as he got comfortable. It had been a while since something had been inside of SM-33, minus the bilgerat that had made a home in his head. He forgot how pleasant it was. The solid mass of something pressing against his inner walls. The way the clamping mechanisms inside of the port formed and pressed against the shape, eager for stimuli. Not to mention the weight. It wasn't like taking an organic, but SM-33 argued that it was just as significant.

"You alright down there, 'Yang?"

The professor blinked rapidly. "Huh?" he slurred. "Yeah. Yes. I'm okay."

SM-33 hummed, "Aye aye. I'm gonna start movin'. That alright with ya?"

Huyang seemed to awaken slightly at that. "Moving? We haven't moved?"

The pirate laughed. "Nah, not yet! I was jus' gettin' flush. Now the real fun starts."

The professor's eyes narrowed in a contemplative frown and he sat up slightly on his elbows. "Hold me?"

SM-33 brightened. "O' course."

SM-33 started slowly, gripping Huyang to his chest while straddling the older droid's hips. His joints whirred with the rolls of his hips, and he couldn't help the soft groaning sighs that escaped him. He methodically shifted himself up and down Huyang's mod, rubbing his faceplate against the droid's neck to distract him. Huyang's vents wheezed and huffed with each careful thrust. Clinks of metal on metal, the creak of the mattress under them and SM-33's quiet groans and praises surrounded them like a weighty cocoon. Huyang wasn't quite sure if it was a dream or not.

Eventually the professor shifted, wrapping his legs around SM-33's knees, and started taking the movements into his own hands. He wrapped his arms around SM-33's shoulders, burying his face into the crook of SM-33's neck. The pirate seemed more than pleased to speed up, leaning forward to better fuck himself on Huyang's mod with the use of gravity. He growled, "Oh, stars. Yes, jus' like that. C'mon, Professor. Ya can do better than that, can't ya? Faster, c'mon..."

Huyang's fingers dug into the grooves of SM-33's worn armor. He growled, "I'm going as fast as I can."

SM-33 laughed, his voice dipping into static. "Are ya? Don't feel like it."

And Huyang did something that surprised SM-33. He actually pushed him backwards. The next thing the pirate knew, he was on his back and Huyang was above him. He dug his fingers into the wires of his waist, and huffed, "Better. Much better."

SM-33 didn't have much time to process before the professor picked up in speed. The clinks turned into clangs and the mattress screamed with the weight of SM-33's hull crushing its worn springs. SM-33's praises devolved into barely intelligible moans, one of his large arms thrown over Huyang's shoulder while his legs straddled the professor's hips, holding him close. Huyang wasn't as well for wear either, his vocoder dead silent except for the occasional staticky grunt and groan and plea. He held SM-33's hips in his hands, watching the advanced mods growing slicker with SM-33's raising temperature and static under his fingertips.

A distant part of him wondered what Lady Tano or Lady Wren would say, if they saw him going at another droid like a lothcat in heat. He wasn't sure if they could equate himself now with the image of him they had. He was often seen as prim and proper, someone outsiders assumed would blush at the mere mention of a kiss.

He wondered if they would even accept this part of him as readily as they accepted Professor Huyang the lightsaber engineer or Professor Huyang the wise old Jedi droid.

SM-33 could feel Huyang's climax before he warned him, aware of the older droid's more erratic thrusts and heating plates.

SM-33 urged Huyang down, pressing his helm against Huyang's and that alone made the professor overload. SM-33's head reeled back as he felt Huyang's last twitching thrusts, and the pirate moaned, soaring over the edge. The port clamped down on Huyang's mod, like the other droid was intending to keep him there forever. Huyang's overloaded processor jerked at the tightness, and the most filthy whining moan escaped him before everything went completely dark.

The older droid collapsed forward, falling flat onto SM-33's chest with a clang and SM-33 locked up, reeling through his overload, coolant oozing from his accompanying mods. By the time SM-33 recovered, blinking back the stars and error messages in his vision, Huyang was still collapsed on top of him. "'Yang?" SM-33 asked groggily. When there was no answer, SM-33 used an elbow to prop himself up and tilted the smaller droid's head up with his forefinger and thumb. Black photoreceptors stared back at him. He couldn't even hear Huyang's vents. "Kriff."

It must've taken a while for Huyang's backup battery to cycle. He came up from darkness to blinding reality once again, first noticing the power cord plugged into his battery port. He lifted up a groggy hand, feeling the black cord. It disappeared somewhere out of his periphery. The next thing he noticed was the sheets and mattress he was still laying on. The Onyx Cinder . He was still in the Captain's quarters. Thirty-Three. Where was SM-33?

He sat up with a start, but a hand reached up next to him and grabbed his shoulder. "Oi, easy there, 'Yang," SM-33's gruff voice spoke up next to him. Huyang looked down, and saw the pirate lounging on the mattress, next to where he had been laying previously. "'M right here. No need ta get yer circuits all in a twist."

Huyang relaxed, shoulders falling. He sighed, falling back into the mattress. SM-33 chuckled, pulling the professor close to nuzzle his cheek and the crook of his neck. Huyang reached down with a hand, glancing it over his pelvis. "I already put it away fer ya," SM-33 spoke for him, watching him as he made his movements.

"Mm... thank you. What happened?"

"Ya overclocked yerself," SM-33 hummed. He soothed instantly, "Ain't no big deal, every droid's done it once or twice."

Huyang was about to grumble to himself about it, embarrassed, but held off when he heard SM-33's reassurance. The pirate pat Huyang's chest. "Ya did good. That was real good."

Huyang chuckled, too tired to be flustered. "Thank you. I'm glad I performed well by your standards."

Both of the droids laid together in the bed, SM-33 thumbing Huyang's plating and the professor sinking into the old covers and mattress. It was warm, pleasant. He wrapped his thinner arms around the larger arm encircling him, leaning his head back to rest it against SM-33's bulky shoulder plates.

"Don't ya gotta get back ta the T-6 ?"

"Mm. Lady Tano and Lady Wren can wait."

Chapter Text

As soon as SM-33 boarded the T-6 and shut the door behind him, Huyang said instantly, excitement in his voice, “I have something to show you.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

SM-33 blinked, his head tilting slowly, “A surprise? Fer little ol’ me? Why, ‘Yang, ya shouldn’t have.”

Huyang chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet. Come look.”

Huyang practically dragged the pirate into his workshop, shutting the door and locking it for good measure. SM-33 glanced around, looking for the surprise even though he had no clue what he was looking for.

Then his photoreceptor fell on a metallic tube, wires coming out of one side. Huyang picked it up, and held it close to himself, SM-33 following with his head.

“Now, it’s not… well, it’s nearly finished, I just need to see if it will fit, but if it doesn’t I have another idea… but! Here.” Huyang sounded flustered, his speech getting faster before he finally shoved the cylinder towards Thirty-Three.

SM-33 tilted his head to one side and then the other before taking the tube and looking down the wired side. All he saw was wires, circuits and flat metal. “What is this?” He turned it in his hands before Huyang could answer and let out a shocked guffaw as his photoreceptor processed what he saw before him.

The inside of the mechanical tube was covered in soft silicon walls and he could see the imprints of clampers and calipers inside. Sensors caught the light as he tilted it to look down the barrel. It was a glorified flesh light to say the least. But the wires had him thinking it was supposed to connect to a certain professor.

Huyang was wringing his hands the entire time SM-33 inspected it, sitting in his workshop chair and looking up at the single white light of his eye. He spoke up, jittery for a reaction, “Do you like it?”

SM-33 let out a bewildered laugh, “Uh, yeah! This thing is… wow. Wow. Did ya make this, ‘Yang?”

Huyang straightened. “I did. I had to make something suited to my own capabilities and your mod, and well… I didn’t want to order something to be custom made for a Mark IV so. Yes. I made it. It’s not too small?”

“Well, damn, ‘Yang, I didn’ measure me mod. But uh, yeah, I think this’ll do it…”

“Excellent. I need help putting it in.”

SM-33 stared, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

Huyang was already clearing his desk of tools and putting everything into their own drawers as he replied, “I need help finding a space to fit it, if it can be fit. I’ll need to take apart my pelvis plating and create a proper hatch, but that’s easy enough to do by myself. Unfortunately, I can’t exactly, ehm. See down there, and my mirror is of no use at that angle. And… I would like you to do it. If you’re comfortable.” Huyang was setting up tools as he explained, arms reaching and grabbing necessary parts. He rested his hands on the belt of his apron, waiting for SM-33’s approval with a tilted head and staring optics.

“I. Uh.” For the first time since Huyang had met SM-33, he was at a loss for words. Finally, after floundering for a few moments, SM-33 threw up his hands, “A’ight! A’ight, I’ll help ya, ‘Yang.”

“Oh, thank you, Thirty-Three! I was worried I would have to hire a smith, ha!”

Huyang undid his apron with a click and hung it up on a hook hammered into the wall before reaching for his tools. “Here, it’ll be faster this way…”

Huyang instructed SM-33 on how to take apart the aft of his pelvis, as he also helped with his secondary claws. Eventually, the professor had to bend forward at his desk, uncovered aft in the air for SM-33 to try to maneuver the mod somewhere it could possibly fit.

Huyang wasn’t built for accommodating sex mods in his pelvis, that much was for certain. It was a tight fit by the time SM-33 found a suitable area, about where an organic’s own anus would lay. “Eh, I think it can fit about here.”

“Excellent,” Huyang hummed. “Take some measurements if you will, and I’ll make adjustments to my paneling as instructed.”

SM-33 thought that would be the end of it. But Huyang insisted on getting the new mod done and inputted right away while he had SM-33 around to help him. The pirate had to admit, the professor worked fast. He had a pneumatic hatch made in a matter of minutes and was already asking SM-33 to test the fit with a temporary glue holding the mod in place. It was a tight fit, as expected. Huyang walked for a few laps around his workshop with the pelvis attached and then eventually tested it with a light jog and a few gentle bounces on his heels.

“Hm. Surprisingly little resistance. Where did you place it?”

“Oh, eh… ‘bout where a fleshbag’s asshole would be.”

Huyang stared at SM-33.

“I don’ see ya wit’ a pussy. What? Do ya want me ta change it?”

“No, no, this is fine. I think that is the ideal placement.”

Huyang was capable of putting the rest together, all he needed was SM-33 to hold a mirror and occasionally lend a hand as he soldered connections together.

Finally, Huyang’s pelvis was put back together with a click.

SM-33 huffed, “Well, so much fer th’ trip I had planned.”

“Oh? I'm sorry, I got so caught up in... Where were we going to go?”

“Eh, wanted ta go to the bar. Ya know, dance, drink…”

Huyang tilted his head. There was something unsaid in SM-33’s words, and the professor wanted nothing more than that unsaid item. He shifted, the newfound weight in his pelvis tantalizing.

“I can inform Lady Tano and Lady Wren that I will be out later than usual.”

“Ya sure? I don’t want ya out ‘n’ about durin’ yer curfew.” There was a playful smile in SM-33’s voice.

Huyang laughed. “As much as Lady Wren would like to think, they are not in charge of me. I’m older than them both combined. I’ll tell them I’ll be out.”

Huyang’s processor was delightfully fuzzy as SM-33 was grinding his grill against the plating of his neck. Currently, they were against the wall in a hallway, still within the bar’s premises but away from prying photoreceptors and gossiping vocoders.

The professor let out a sharp needy gasp as SM-33 knocked his helm against his bottom jaw to get at the wires of his neck.

SM-33’s hands roamed the older droid’s body, groping and caressing. One hand found its way to his neck port, curling a finger under a looser wire. He tugged and Huyang jerked, gasping in pleasure. “A-ah~! Thirty- Thirty-Three!”

The pirate hummed, dragging his lower hand down Huyang’s thigh, and gripping tight at the piston behind the metal cover.

“Yer so kriffin’ pretty,” the pirate slurred, leaning into Huyang’s smaller frame until he was practically being crushed between the wall and SM-33’s hull. Static electricity burst and popped behind their sensors, and Huyang’s fingers spasmed, clawing into SM-33’s metal armor. His fingers left behind shiny lines, but neither droid cared much.

SM-33’s hand that had been inside his neck port lowered, and curled around the wires of his abdomen instead. Huyang jerked as SM-33 gave a section of wires a tantalizing tug. The professor whined, burying his faceplate into SM-33’s chest as his knees shook. “O-Oh! Oh, Force, Maker - hah~ - please, Thirty… I need more…! Please, please, more .”

SM-33 chuckled, rubbing his helm against Huyang’s. The older droid hummed impatiently, but leaned into the contact dizzily, vents heaving as SM-33 caressed his spine. “Yer so needy, so sensitive~”

“Mm~ If you don’t hurry, I’ll do it myself.”

SM-33 tilted his head, “Hmm, that’s a more viable option than ya think it is, ‘Yang.”

Huyang blinked, reeling back to look up at the pirate. He squinted his photoreceptors disjointedly, “You like watching? Is that what I’m hearing?”

Thirty-Three laughed, “It wasn’t obvious?”

Huyang huffed, rolling his head to the left and then the right before grumbling, “It makes sense.”

SM-33 laughed. “Ya want ta get a room?”

“Mm… if we can.”

Getting a room at the bar was rather easy, with SM-33’s connections. 50-C took one look at them and pointed them to the nearest room.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, the droids were more than willing to pick up where they left off.

SM-33 straddled the droid against the bed, rubbing his helm against Huyang’s insistently as he caressed the droid’s waist. He pulled the droid’s pelvis up by the belt and Huyang gasped in surprise but that ended in a sharp delighted laugh.

Huyang wrapped his arms around SM-33’s neck, grinding his faux mouth into the droid’s neck and pulling at the thick cords coming from the back of his head. SM-33’s hands groped blindly at Huyang’s belt, undoing it and throwing the belt aside haphazardly. 

SM-33 groaned, pleased, before tapping at Huyang’s aft, right where he knew the newly placed mod to be. “Open up~” SM-33 sang.

“You first.”

He was teasing him.

SM-33 laughed, rubbing his fingers over the plating. He felt Huyang shiver, leaning into the contact.

“C’mon~ won’t ya open up fer me? Pretty please.”

Huyang hummed, as if pondering it.

SM-33 growled, throwing back his head in an exaggerated eye-roll, “Yer a right bastard, y’know that, ‘Yang?”

Huyang laughed even harder, but finally released the plate with a hiss. He unfolded the plating hiding his older mod as well, allowing himself to be completely exposed to the pirate.

SM-33 hummed gratefully, grinding his grill against Huyang’s mouth as he released his own mods with their accompanying hiss of pneumatics.

Huyang gasped instantly, before SM-33 could even think of pushing a finger inside of him, “L-lubricant! We need lubricant.”

SM-33 paused, tilting his head and leaning away for a moment. A storage panel hissed open on SM-33’s hull and the larger droid rummaged around inside. He came away with a frustrated “dammit.”

Huyang cackled, throwing his head back with mirth. He continued laughing as SM-33 grumbled, “It ain’t funny, ‘Yang, I was lookin’ forward ta this ‘nd I forgot the one thing we absolutely need above all-“

Huyang held up a finger against SM-33’s grill. “Shhh. Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.” He reached for his belt that had been pried off of him, taking out a small bottle from one of the pockets and holding it out to him.

SM-33 chuckled, taking it eagerly, “Ya bought lube?”

“Welll… we’ve been making this a rather frequent activity. I figured one day we’d need it.”

SM-33 hummed, popping off the cap and layering a generous amount on his fingers and rubbing it into the plating, “Yer a godsend, ‘Yang.”

Huyang didn’t bother replying, only lifted his legs to straddle SM-33’s hips as the droid positioned his finger along the newer port.

“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

Huyang nodded, shuddering with anticipation.

SM-33 was slow, pressing his finger inside the port. The professor jerked, gasping sharply as his head reeled back against the mattress. His fingers curled into SM-33’s plating, trying to find purchase on the rusty pocked surface. “ Oh! Oh, Force above, Thirty- AH ~!”

SM-33 would’ve grinned if he had a mouth. He elected to let out a giddy chuckle, rubbing his helm against Huyang’s trembling arm. “Shh, yer doin’ so good, ‘Yang. Makin’ all those noises fer me.”

Huyang’s vents wheezed out steam, and he whimpered as he felt SM-33 sit his finger inside him with a tink of his palm against his pelvis. He whined, managing past the static in his vocoder, “S-slow, please- I- hah~ A lot.”

“Too much?” SM-33 asked, concern in his voice.

Huyang’s hand shot down to grab his wrist. “ No! No. Just… it’s new.” Huyang shifted his hips, and he shivered at the feeling of being pinned so thoroughly by the finger inside of him. “You can, uh, move. Just… slow.”

SM-33 pulled out carefully, until about the first joint of his finger before sliding back in. Huyang moaned, head reeling back against the pillows of the bed. "M-Maker..."

"That good?"

"Oh, yes, very - hff - good. Keep going."

Huyang instructed SM-33 through his staticky grunts and moans, though the pirate didn't need much help with getting down what the professor liked. By the time Huyang was taking three of his fingers, he was rocking with Thirty-Three's thrusts and collapsed into the mattress, a glitching moaning mess.

Huyang cried out as SM-33 spread his fingers inside of him, pressing against the soft walls of silicon that were slippery with lube. He threw an arm over his photoreceptors, back arching. " K-Kriff! Thirty- Ah, ha~! Again! More, please, please, more , I-!"

Huyang practically screamed as SM-33 spread his fingers and rubbed the sensitive walls with a crook of his joints. Huyang's joints and pistons creaked as his legs tightened around SM-33's waist, his hips forcing SM-33's fingers deeper. The professor let out a pathetic, blissed whimper, photoreceptors flickering. "Oough... I... Thirty-Three... I-I need..."

SM-33 pressed his helm against Huyang's, rubbing it against his faceplate to distract him. "Aye, I know, 'Yang, I know. Hol' on."

He pulled his fingers out of him, and the professor winced at the emptiness, letting out a quiet complaint.

"I hear ya, give me a sec. I'm gonna give ya somethin' a lot better than me hand."

Huyang dizzily sat up on his elbows, watching as SM-33 took his phallic mod in his hand. The older droid's vents puffed out a flustered burst of heated air, photoreceptors locked on the pirate's hand as he stroked himself.

SM-33's head reeled back on its long neck, a long pleasured growl escaping him. He blinked when he felt Huyang's hands rest on his thighs, his head straightening and looking down at the professor under him. Huyang asked, soft and self-conscious, "May I?"

"Of course."

SM-33 watched as Huyang took him in his hands, rubbing a thumb along the silicon underside curiously. That elicited a shudder, and Huyang chuckled, leaning up to press his faux mouth against his grill as he started stroking him firmly. The professor hummed past the growl that vibrated the pirate's grill against his face plates, and added a flourish to his wrist as he stroked up. That made SM-33 gasp, fingers tightening on Huyang's thighs where they straddled his hips. " Kriff. Damn, 'Yang. Where'd ya get - mmm - good with yer hands?"

Huyang tilted his head to the side, humming, "I researched."

The pirate let out a breathless laugh.

Huyang worked SM-33 up to a leak, thumbing the lubricant oozing out of the tip of his mod and using it to create a smoother glide with his own hand. Finally the pirate grabbed Huyang's wrist to stop him, vents puffing out heated air and steam. "Enough foreplay. We're breakin' in that new mod, right?"

"Well, of course. I never indicated we weren’t."

SM-33 leaned back, grabbing Huyang's hips and lifting him up as he lifted himself onto his knees. The professor let out a startled noise, grabbing at the mattress and covers under him for balance as his body was shifted into a tilt so SM-33 could look down his pelvis. The larger droid teased his thumb along the rim of Huyang's port, and the professor let out a sharp needy whine. "Stop teasing me, Thirty-Three," he huffed restlessly, tilting his hips to press further against 33's thumb.

The pirate purred, "Oh please, I love teasin' ya, Professor. Ya get so feisty; I like it when yer feisty." SM-33 dragged the head of his mod along the entrance of Huyang's port for good measure, giggling in delight as he watched the older droid squirm.

"You- You bastard . I hate you," Huyang gasped with no real venom, grinding his hips against SM-33, but the droid still refused to penetrate him.

"Aye, that's what I am. 'Nd I know ya don' hate it. Otherwise, ya wouldn't keep comin' back fer more."

"Oh, please , Thirty-Three. I know you want this just as much as I," the professor's voice dipped into static as Thirty-Three dragged a leisurely finger up the underside of Huyang's dick. The sensation sparked an arch of electricity down Huyang's spine and he shivered, letting out a desperate moan. "Oh, Force above, Thirty-Three, please , mercy!"

SM-33 hummed, delighted at the babbling loopy mess under him. "Yer so kriffin' cute when yer like this, 'Yang. So pretty." The professor let out a quiet noise as SM-33 caressed his faceplate. The older droid leaned into the contact, photoreceptors fluttering at the stimuli as SM-33 shifted his position and more forcibly pressed the head of his mod against Huyang's port.

The professor let out a loud burst of air from his vents, steam rising as Huyang's legs tightened around his hips. "Yes! Yes, go on, please, yes, yes, yes-! "

Static burst out of the droid's vocoder as SM-33 pressed himself inside, his back arching in a desperate curve and his photoreceptors wide and bright. SM-33 could feel Huyang clenching around him, and he paused only for a moment to allow the old droid to adjust or calm down.

Eventually Huyang relaxed, shivering and shaking. SM-33 was still sat halfway inside him, and the pirate tilted his head as he peered down at him. "Did ya just overload from me jus' enterin' you?"

Huyang's voice took a moment to respond, and when he did, there was an underlying current of static, "No... I don't... I think I got a little excited."

SM-33 chuckled, asking, "Ya think ya can keep goin'?"

The professor blinked, surprised. "Wh- Yes! Of course. We're not done yet."

"Aye aye, 'Yang. Tell me if ya need me ta slow down."

SM-33 pressed further into the droid, not without Huyang gasping and tightening his grip on the covers. It was when SM-33 was flush with Huyang's pelvis did he pause. "You alright?"

Huyang was shaking under him, sunk into the mattress like a rock. He stuttered, vents whirring loudly, "Y-Yes. Please, keep going."

SM-33 shifted himself so they were more comfortable, caging Huyang in with his arms as he shortened his legs so that Huyang's hips weren't hovering too far off the mattress. Huyang reached up to wrap his arms around SM-33's neck, shifting to lock his ankles together before SM-33 made his first move. He carefully pulled out, until only the head of his mod sat inside, before thrusting back in with a sharp clang of metal against metal.

That punched the air out of Huyang's vents, and had his vocoder screeching with static feedback. The second thrust had him yelping out a static laced curse in a long forgotten language that SM-33 definitely never heard before.

"Heh, ya like that, 'Yang?" SM-33 asked breathlessly, rubbing his helm against the side of Huyang's head. The plates were warm and static electricity shocked his hull with a tiny ding .

Huyang could barely form a legible reply. His overwrought processor that was weighted down by the fuzzy blanket of alcohol and stimulation managed to cobble together a simple, "Uh-huh!"

The pirate laughed, endeared, and rubbed his head into Huyang's neck. "Yer doin' real good, 'Yang. Takin' it like a good boy."

Huyang let out a tiny noise, the emotion behind it unclear, but it was definitely positive.

The professor held onto SM-33 tight as the larger droid thrust into him and pummeled him into a glitching, moaning mess. His plating warmed to a degree he was certain would burn an organic if touched, sensation and stimuli igniting in his processors like fireworks. The clang of metal on metal and the creak of the bed underneath them was deliciously provocative, never mind the noises the both of them were making between the bursts of static and huffs of vents.

SM-33 growled above him, his thrusting gaining a more erratic rhythm and the professor panted, "Oh, Mak-Maker- Thi- Thirty- SO- I'm- cl-!"

The pirate panted, "I-I-I hear you. Jus' a little-little bit more-" He moaned, burying himself as deep into Huyang as he could, his overload grappling him as coolant flooded out of the slit of his mods. Huyang screamed over his own edge almost instantly afterwards, arms locking up around Thirty-Three's neck and back snapping into an arch.

SM-33 was the first to slowly come back to himself. He blinked before looking down at Huyang, where he was still twitching through his system overload. Thirty-Three reached up and wrapped his arms around Huyang's back, rubbing his thumb over his spine until the professor's photoreceptors blinked dizzily up at him.

SM-33 hummed, rubbing his helm against Huyang's. The professor chuckled, rubbing his helm back into him.

"Do you wanna go again?"

Huyang laughed. "Again?"

"Well, sure. I don' wanna waste th' room... Fifty'll understand, it don' ask questions."

The professor sighed, tapping his finger's thoughtfully against his helm. "Can I use your port?"

SM-33 replied, a grin in his voice, "Sure. Long as I get ta keep usin' yers."

Huyang awoke groggy to the sound of his comm buzzing. The comm attached to his belt? Why that one?

He blinked, his eyelids retuning themselves. SM-33's arm and peg leg was thrown over him, his other arm wrapped around Huyang's shoulder and back. Both droids were snuggled together on the bed and plugged into a charging station kept against the wall closest to the bed. His processor buzzed with the remains of alcohol and sex. He felt sticky. Did they clean their plating after they were done, or did they just go into sleepmode after needing to plug in for the night?

The comm attached to his belt quieted. He took the moment of silence to scan the room around him before turning his head to look at Thirty-Three. He reached up and caressed the back of the pirate's head, carding his fingers over the thick cords that protruded there. SM-33 grunted, photoreceptor flickering and leaned into the contact. Huyang hummed, a smile in his voice.

Then the comm started buzzing again. He groaned.

"Who's that?" SM-33 mumbled tiredly, photoreceptor still shut, like if he kept it shut he wouldn't need to get up.

"I don't know," Huyang slurred back. He shimmied away to try and answer but SM-33 caught the droid back up in his arms and nuzzled the back of his neck, grinding his grill into the plating. The professor laughed, batting SM-33's roaming hands away, "Stop, stop, Thirty-Three. I need to pick it up. It could be an emergency."

SM-33 groaned, looking up at him with a round and playfully pleading photoreceptor. "Aw... C'mon, 'Yang, I don' wanna get up."

"You don't need to. I'm getting up."

"Yer my nice and warm pillow."

Huyang chuckled and gently shoved SM-33 away to grab his belt off the ground. His joints creaked in complaint as he moved and he winced as he shifted his sitting position. SM-33 scooted up behind him, reaching out to thumb at the professor's hip as Huyang checked who was calling.

Ahsoka's number.

"Oh, dear. It's Lady Tano."

"Mm. The jedi?"

"Yes." He scrolled through the comm's unanswered calls and winced when he saw a mix of Ahsoka and Sabine's name in a long list. "Oh, no . That's not good." He checked the standard time registered in his system and jolted in horror when he saw it was already 10:46, nearing noon by an hour or so. "Oh, no! Thirty-Three, when did we leave yesterday?"

SM-33 blinked, tilting his helm, "Oh, uhh... 'Bout 22:15 standard time."

"OH MAKER!"

He tried to pick up before Ahsoka's call timed out, but it hung up back into comm mail. " KRIFF , kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff !" He jumped up to pace the room, trying and failing to call back with his shaky hands.

SM-33 got up carefully, holding out his hands to catch the panicking droid in his palms. "Hey, hey, hey, 'Yang, breathe. Calm down."

"Calm down?! I missed at least 30 different calls from Ahsoka and Sabine! Sabine never calls me!"

"Well, jus' say why ya were out! Simple as that."

"I can't-! I'm not-! What would I say? Ah, yes, I was busy getting drunk and interfacing with my friend-who-also-happens-to-be-a-pirate all night! Sorry I didn't answer your calls!"

SM-33 sighed, "Well, obviously not like that. Stars, 'Yang, jus' say ya lost track o' time."

"I never lose track of time."

"Well, ya did today."

The comm started buzzing again, this time with Sabine's number.

Huyang looked up at SM-33, who gave his elbows a comforting squeeze before he sighed and pulled up the antennae. He answered and started to speak with a simple, "He-"

" Huyang! " Sabine screamed at him and the professor jumped, almost dropping the comm. SM-33 reacted as if he was going to catch it if it fell. " Where the hell are you?! What the hell were you doing?! You didn't answer your comm once in over 11 hours! Why did you leave your apron ?? Are you naked ?? "

Huyang spluttered, "Wh- I'm not naked , I'm a droid , Sabine! Droids can't-"

" You're basically naked! Why are you- " Sabine was interrupted with Ahsoka's comparatively calmer voice.

" Huyang, are you alright? " Even though Ahsoka sounded calm, he could hear the slight tremble in her voice. He had lived with her and cared for her long enough to understand her smaller tells.

"Yes. I'm alright. I'm sorry for worrying you. I... lost track of time."

" That's unlike you ," Ahsoka replied, concern evident now.

"I know, I know, I... I'm with a friend and we were... well, we were together all night, and..."

" You were having fun ," Ahsoka finished for him.

He blinked. He glanced at SM-33. SM-33 tilted his head. "Yes. I... was having fun. And I lost track of time. I'm sorry."

" It's alright, Professor. We were just concerned for your safety. "

"You and I both know I can handle myself, Lady Tano."

A small laugh. " I know. It doesn't stop us from worrying. When will you be back? "

"Momentarily. There's a few more things I need to do."

" Do you need to be picked up? "

"No, I have a ship."

" Alright. See you soon, Huyang. "

"Goodbye, Lady Tano."

He hung up and slid the antennae back in place. "See? Worked like a charm," SM-33 pointed out.

Huyang chuckled, shaking his head and picking up his belt and replacing the comm. "Lady Wren will be interrogating me when I get back. Is there a shower to clean up in here?"

"Mmm, even better. Oil bath?"

Huyang sighed, shoulders falling, "Oh, Force, yes. My joints are creaking."

He did require a bit of a deep cleaning, unfortunately, after their night of fun. Currently, he stood as straight as he could to let gravity due most of the work in the shower as a flood of coolant and lubricant dripped and leaked out of his port. SM-33 was chuckling to himself as he watched, cleaning his own mods with the shower head. It was a tight fit, between the two droids shoved in a single shower.

He grumbled, "This is so messy. Must you always leak coolant?"

"Well, of course! What's the point in interfacin' if I ain't leavin' ya with somethin' to clean up?"

Huyang sighed, rolling his photoreceptors.

"Here, let me help. How do ya want the water?"

Huyang turned to allow the droid to look at his port, explaining, "If you can angle the shower head into the- OH, oh Force! Turn down the water!"

"This is going to be so embarrassing," Huyang bemoaned, watching as Lothal came into view.

"Hm?" SM-33 asked, tilting his head to look at the professor.

"I'm going to walk off board in broad daylight with nothing but my belt..."

"Ah, but ya got a nice deep cleanin' 'nd oil bath! I think ya should show that off."

Huyang snorted. "You only want me to "show it off" because you find my plating attractive."

"Yeah? Don't everybody?"

The Onyx Cinder landed and SM-33 led Huyang to the landing ramp, walking with him as they stepped out onto the hangar. He spotted the T-6 across the hangar, and turned to SM-33, "Same time next week?"

"Yep."

Huyang turned to start walking away before SM-33 called, "Oh, wait, 'Yang, hol' up."

Huyang turned back, starting, "What-"

The professor jolted as SM-33 planted his helm against his and his grill against his mouth. Huyang had grown used to the small electric feedback that normally happened, but what he wasn't used to was doing it in such an open area. Where everyone who knew him could see. He stood stunned even as SM-33 drew away, and gave Huyang a friendly pat on the shoulder. "A'ight! Tis all I needed. Run along now, professor."

"Uh. Buh. Okay. Thanks. Bye."

He stepped down off the Onyx Cinder . Only once he was far enough away did the Onyx Cinder take off.

As he approached the T-6 , Sabine was staring at him with mouth agape and Ahsoka was staring at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

He was going to have to answer a lot of questions.

Chapter Text

Huyang was panting, photoreceptors flickering as he wound down from his climax, SM-33 sat deep inside him. The pirate groped the professor’s hips, leaning down to rub his grill along the side of his penetrative mod. Huyang twitched at the contact and static electricity, panting, “Again?”

The pirate hummed, tilting his head up at him from his stomach, “If ya want. We can take a breather.”

Huyang sighed, reeling back to rest his head against the table he was getting fucked against. The Onyx Cinder provided them enough privacy to do this all day if they wanted, or until Lady Tano or SM-33’s Captain Fern called.

There was a sensation of fullness if he shifted, a pool of coolant gathered in his port since SM-33 hadn’t taken his length out of him since he entered a couple of overloads ago. “Mm... A moment. My port needs to be emptied.”

SM-33 grumbled, resting his chin on Huyang’s chest as he stared up at him, “I like the feelin' of it.”

“It’s hard to clean.”

SM-33 sighed but withdrew, drawing out his mod with a wet pop of the suction seal between them breaking. Coolant oozed out of Huyang’s port and he sat up to help gravity as the fluid dripped in a steady stream onto the table and floor. It was a strange sensation, that was certain. The acute sensors inside his port sent a spark of stimulation up his spine and he shivered, a soft noise escaping him. SM-33 rubbed his thigh with his thumb as he watched until the flood turned into a trickle.

“Hm. Well, ya were right, ‘Yang, it is a damn mess,” SM-33 grumbled, toeing the puddle of coolant on the floor with his peg leg. “I’m gonna have ta deep clean this.”

Huyang chuckled, standing to let some of the remains drip down his thighs, “This was your idea.”

He slid the phallic mod closed but kept the port open, pacing the room with a slight hobble as he asked, “Bed? My spine is creaking.”

“Hmm. I’ve got somethin’ in mind.”

Huyang turned to the larger droid with a tilted head, “Oh? What is it?”

“I got a toy that I think ya might like. And I was thinkin’ of interfacin’ th’ ol’ droid way.”

Huyang blinked. “A data exchange?” He paused, photoreceptors flickering as he thought before replying carefully, “I don’t think that’s wise… we have two entirely different processors.”

“Afraid I’ll crash ya?”

“No,” the architect droid wrung his hands. “I’m afraid I’ll crash you .”

The pirate hummed. “I can handle ya, ‘Yang. I’ve got KX processors up here.”

“Yes, and I’m an architect droid. Architect droids have a significantly higher tolerance for data input and output than KX units. Especially myself.” Huyang widened his photoreceptors meaningfully. “You are old, Thirty-Three. But I am old . My archival and data drives hold a far higher density of information than yours.”

SM-33 tilted his head, photoreceptor squinting. Huyang sighed. He knew what the pirate was thinking: he took his words as a challenge.

“I can take ya.”

Huyang groaned, rolling his photoreceptors but they squinted good naturedly as he elbowed the other droid’s chest. “If you crash, just don’t crush me.”

SM-33 laughed. “I ain’t gonna crush ya, ‘Yang, ‘nd I ain’t gonna crash.”

Huyang hummed, tilting his head but he didn’t bother to argue with the other droid any further. SM-33 reached down, grabbing the smaller droid up by the underside of his thighs. Huyang let out a startled guffaw, tittering as the larger droid held the architect close and rubbed his helm against his and dragged it in a bumpy line along his faceplate.

“Thirty-Three!”

“Can’t have ya walkin’ if yer spine is creakin’, old man!”

Huyang wrapped his arms around Thirty-Three’s neck, threading his fingers through the thick black wires at the back of his head and tugging them at the base. The pirate hummed in approval as he carried the older droid to the Captain’s quarters.

Huyang released Thirty-Three as the droid dumped him onto the bed, humming with anticipation as SM-33 leaned over him and clambered onto the mattress to cage him with his limbs.

SM-33 rubbed his helm against Huyang’s neck, encouraging the older droid to look up until the joint at the base of his head creaked. He dragged the pad of his thumb along the wires cobbled together over the joint and Huyang sighed, photoreceptors flickering. He grunted as SM-33 pinched one of the wires gently, enough to cause tension between the surface of the joint and his finger.

Huyang trailed his hand up SM-33’s back, grabbing at the thick cords attached to the back of his head and pulled, hard enough to feel the port they were attached to squeak. The pirate groaned, arms shuddering.

The two droids took a moment to tease each other, SM-33 groping and tugging at the exposed wires along Huyang’s stomach and just under the plating of his neck while the professor grabbed a fistful of wires just above SM-33’s hip and carded his fingers over his cables.

The pirate stuttered as Huyang yanked a cord and he felt a connection come away with a sizzling pop. Thirty-Three leaned away to glare at the older droid, who was twirling the unplugged cord with his fingers. “Yes?”

“Yer a bastard, ‘Yang.”

The professor tilted his head, photoreceptors squinting in a grin. “Rude. When are you going to show me that toy you said you got me?”

“When are you gonna show me yer dataport?”

“Goodness, Thirty-Three, ask a droid to dinner first,” Huyang bantered.

“I could say the same to you.”

Huyang hummed, lifting the port side of the wire to his faux mouth and dragging the edge of it against the metal. Thirty-Three shivered and let out a quiet whine as Huyang let out a puff of warm air from his facial vents that caressed the wire’s plug. He circled his thumb along the rim, watching the larger droid squirm before he finally plugged the wire back in under SM-33’s chest plate.

“Mmgh~ I see yer gettin’ bolder.”

“I’m learning. That’s the main directive I was manufactured with. Learning and teaching and anything in between.” Huyang tilted his head. “So. What’s the toy?”

“You go first.”

Huyang rolled his photoreceptors but chuckled, amused. “Well, I’m not meant to be accessed for information like you are, so I only have one dataport.”

“Who says I have more than one?”

Huyang squinted before he reached up and touched Thirty-Three’s inner thigh. “You have one here” - he touched the pirate’s right breast - “here” - he touched behind SM-33's helm, where his cables curled out - “And here, under the cables.”

The pirate sat back on his haunches, still straddling the professor and snorted. “Ya really jus’ pay attention ta every little thing, huh?”

“I saw you accessing the ship through your ports before. And your scomp is in your right wrist, I’m assuming?”

“Aye.”

“Hm. Well, I’m slightly more complex.” He took Thirty-Three’s wrist, bringing it to his neck. He guided his hand to the nape of his neck, where his plating shifted from wires and joints and back into plating, over the vents sitting at the lower occipital surface of his cranium, and pressed up until SM-33 felt the delicate separation of paneling along the blue dome of Huyang's helm.

He tilted his head and Huyang hummed as he released the pistons. The white plate running down the middle his helm lifted, sliding forward slightly. Not enough to run into the multifocal lens attached to his head but enough to be noticeable.

SM-33 whistled, rubbing his thumb along the very edge of where the panel had once been. “Ooh. Real fancy. Discreet.”

Huyang hummed, leaning into the contact with a sigh, photoreceptors fluttering as the pirate reached further and rubbed the pads of his fingers over the data port that was revealed to him. From the texture, he could tell it was something from the Old Republic or older. He would know an Old Republic data port anywhere, especially with the Cinder covered in the things. Huyang grunted in approval, leaning into the contact further until he was practically grinding his helm into his palm. SM-33 chuckled, “Sensitive?”

“No. Just feels nice.”

“Hm.” Thirty-Three thumbed at the port as he asked, “Where’s your scomp?”

Huyang didn’t say a word, only lifted his right hand and held it out palm up. Tiny pistons whirred and clicked until Huyang’s index finger collapsed in on itself, opening like a tiny flower as the scomp extended and spun as the head and neck of the thing collapsed out around itself. Thirty-Three hummed curiously, watching as it all clicked into place and Huyang joked, “Don’t break it.”

“I ain’t gonna break it.” Thirty-Three leaned forward to curiously scan it over. “Lookit that… It’s real pretty. Clean, too.”

“I don’t use it often presently.”

SM-33 extended his own scomp from his wrist, eager to plug in and show Huyang just how much he could take but the professor made him stop, clapping his left hand over his data port. “Now hold on! The toy.”

Thirty-Three chortled, leering forward to teasingly tug at the wires of the older droid’s abdomen. “The toy and interfacin’? Stars, ‘Yang, when’d ya become such a slut?”

Huyang huffed, flustered air puffing from his vents. “You’re the one who mentioned it.”

“Right, right. Hold on.”

SM-33 shimmied off Huyang’s hips, dragging his left hand along the professor’s still moist port between his legs. The architect shivered, a contented sigh escaping him as he pressed into SM-33’s palm as it left him.

Thirty-Three shuffled around under the bed before picking it up, his photoreceptor squinted in a cheeky grin. Huyang shuddered, sitting up to eye the string of plastic orbs and taking one in between his fingers curiously. “What’s this?” Huyang asked, squeezing the orb idly. There was a slight give, but not too much. He likened it to a particularly dense stress ball.

“One of them organic shops recommended it, when I told ‘em ya liked getting a fill o’ me.”

Huyang bristled, flustered. His head shot up from the ball, staring at him with wide photoreceptors. “You told someone about this?”

“Nahh, I didn’t drop names, just said I had a sex partner who liked gettin’ his ass taken. Anyway, they said they were anal beads.”

“… I’m afraid to ask how this is supposed to be used.”

“Hm, that’s the fun part,” SM-33 giggled. He held up the end he had in his hand, where it ended in a ring instead of an orb. “Yer supposed to fit ‘em all, ‘nd I pull ‘em all out with this. ‘Supposed ta build up ta that though, pullin’ ‘em out I mean.”

Huyang was silent, the only sound from him being his internal fans whirring loudly. He placed the bead in his palm more firmly, his lens sliding down over his eye as he stared at it, seeming to be measuring it in his processors before looking back up. "I don't think all of these will fit in the port, Thirty-Three."

"Sure they can! They've got give, and so do you."

Huyang looked down, back to Thirty-Three and then down at the beads again.

"Listen, if you don't wanna, we don't have ta."

Huyang gave Thirty-Three a look that the pirate definitely understood in the same way that Huyang understood the look Thirty-Three gave him about his processing power.

"Alright, yes. Yes. I'll try."

The pirate cackled, jumping off the bed as he brightly said, "I'll get th' lube 'nd two way connector! You just sit back 'nd be pretty."

"A two way? I thought we were using our scomps?"

"I want a hand free, 'tis all."

The architect hummed, scomp retracting back into his finger.

The professor watched as Thirty-Three strode about the room, looking for the two way connector, as he idly tapped on the plating next to his mod's opening. Eventually he shifted his hand to rub the pad of his thumb along the rim of it. That made him shiver, a soft sigh escaping him as he leaned back against the mattress, photoreceptors squinting and flickering at the light stimuli between his legs.

He blinked when SM-33 leered over him, and paused in his ministrations. Thirty-Three hummed as he tapped the back of Huyang's hand where it rested over his port. "Why'd ya stop? Keep goin'."

Huyang let out a flustered puff of air, but proceeded, growing bolder and tipping his hand to tease a finger inside. A soft keen leaked out of his vocoder, one photoreceptor squinting shut against the soft pressure. Thirty-Three leaned forward, hovering over him and touched the back of his hand lightly, tilting it further and forcing his finger deeper. Huyang gasped, tilting his head back. " S-Stars-! Thirty-Three!"

The pirate hummed, rubbing his helm against Huyang's before leaning away and plugging the two way cord into the back of his head with a click. Huyang gasped softly, photoreceptors flickering at the rarely used input and output system humming to life. SM-33 twisted the plug, locking it in place inside of the dataport before snaking it over Huyang's shoulder. "How's that?"

"Comfortable."

"Good, been a bit since I've plugged into another droid." SM-33 snaked the cord to his chest dataport as it opened itself with a loud shunk . "Ready?"

"Yes."

SM-33 plugged in with his own accompanying click and locked the connection, only to be flooded with data. Suddenly, his processors were whirling, parts of them he didn't even know existed being accessed and awoken. " W-Woah! Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, 'Yang!"

Thankfully, the data input did slow down a little bit at that, but it was still a lot. Data filtered through their connection like ships on a crowded spaceway, but Thirty-Three was fairly certain he was the one getting run over in the midst of it all instead of driving with the crowd.

He felt Huyang's hands on his shoulders and then felt himself through Huyang's palms. He was warm. Searing . He could feel the rust under Huyang's fingertips and the dents in his armor. Was this what Huyang felt all the time? "Thirty-Three?" Huyang spoke, anxiety in his voice. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Uh. Y-yea. Yeah, I can hear ya."

The architect relaxed under him, but concern still flashed in his photoreceptors and their connection. "Is it still too much? I can try to turn down my input more."

"No, no, it's fine. I jus'... Stars above, 'Yang, do ya feel this all th' time? It's so..."

"Overwhelming?"

"Busy."

Huyang chuckled. He tapped his fingers on SM-33's shoulders - 1; 2; 3; the data filtered - before he leaned up and rubbed his helm against his. The shock of static was doubled, and it had Thirty-Three reeling. Huyang sighed, pleased with his own results. "Mm... This is nice. Why haven't we done this before?"

"Somethin' about yer archive memories," SM-33 mumbled, a little lost in the data washing through his processors.

"Hm." The professor caressed Thirty-Three's abdomen, feeling the way the pirate shivered as more sensation flitted through their connection and over his sensors. "Well, I've done what you wanted, do you mind...?"

The pirate let out a stunned guffaw, shaking his head, "I thought you were intimidated by it."

"I think having a connection like this is the ideal way for us to try it. In case I can't tell you if it gets uncomfortable."

"Yea, I guess yer right." SM-33 leaned away from the other's helm, and reached behind him, grabbing up the string of beads and lube he had set aside to make their connection.

Huyang watched Thirty-Three as he prepped, spreading his legs further to look down his chest and stomach. SM-33 was getting giddy himself with the anticipatory data he was getting from Huyang’s side of the connection. SM-33 asked, positioning the smallest bead that started the chain against Huyang’s port, pressing it against him teasingly, “Yer gonna datapush everythin’, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Now please, Thirty-Three, put it in.”

SM-33 chuckled, leaning over him and rubbing his helm against Huyang’s faceplate to distract him before pressing the orb in.

The mod was still loose from their past couplings, so it slid in nicely with the help of the lubricant. Sensation shot through the two way and SM-33 shuddered at the feeling of secondhand pleasure. Huyang threw his head back, gasping breathlessly. “O-oh! Oh, Force, Thirty-" he yelped as the larger droid pushed the bead in deeper with his finger. SM-33 groaned with the professor as he whined, throwing an arm over his photoreceptors, his vents wheezing as his processors chewed through the feedback loop of pleasure and data. Huyang’s legs wrapped around Thirty-Three’s waist, his shaking fingers digging into the covers of the bed as SM-33 took the opportunity to pop another inside the port. Huyang’s voice dissolved into static and returned to scream out a curse. Thirty-Three gasped as data flashed in his drives. For a moment, he saw the vague outlines of memories but it quickly dissolved into static as Huyang pushed more pleasure through their connection.

SM-33 tested the waters, deciding to do one more and then pause. He pressed a third inside and Huyang screeched, voice high pitched and glitching. He thought he heard his name. And then the wave of pleasure hit him. No wonder Huyang overloaded so easily. He always felt so much and so strongly.

The pirate blinked the data from his processors, still reeling as he steadied himself.

SM-33 panted above him, vents puffing out steam, “‘Yang? Ya there?”

Huyang managed a weak grunt, legs still wrapped tight around SM-33’s hips.

“We’ve got a couple more, if you can keep goin’.”

“Number,” Huyang managed, shaking as his mod clenched around the intrusions.

“Uh, ‘bout three more.”

Huyang let out a shuddering sigh. He didn’t sound entirely displeased at the idea.

“I need a minute,” Huyang finally said, rolling his head to the side to rub his helm against SM-33’s arm.

SM-33 hummed at the flicker of data and leaned down to grind his helm against the side of his head.

He reached down to trace his fingers over the rim of the mod, and Huyang shivered, letting out a soft keen. SM-33 blinked away the secondhand sensations and chuckled, “Ya like this?”

“Mm… I think.” Huyang shifted his hips and let out a sharp gasp in response, photoreceptors flickering. “Ah, ha~ Oh Stars and Force above…”

SM-33 groaned, leaning forward with the data. He was sure his mods were drooling inside of their plating. SM-33 pressed a bit of data through the two way system, a simple repeating line that he was sure Huyang wouldn’t mind floating through his processors. The professor snorted. Good boy , the line stated when he took apart the binary.

Huyang asked, “Do you want more?”

“I think I can handle it. S’all calm now.”

Huyang hummed and sent a slight electric charge through the two way connection with data he didn’t mind parting with for the time being. He could see when SM-33 received his package. The pirate shuddered and Huyang could feel his internal temperature rise. Never mind the feedback loop that sent him back his own electric shock.

Huyang was more than willing to twist SM-33’s processors however he allowed. The pseudo organic coupling was Thirty-Three’s wheelhouse; data pushing and packaging was his own.

He shot back more data, nonsense really, but Thirty-Three took it anyhow.

Huyang wrapped one of his arms around him, and used the other to grip at the sheets. He curled his legs tight around the other droid’s hips, intending to keep him there. He shot the stimulus he got from those interactions directly to Thirty-Three and couldn’t help the satisfied squint of his photoreceptors when the pirate moaned, hips twitching and optic shutting. “G-gods,” the pirate stuttered, static over his voice like a blanket. “‘Yang-” he choked on his words as Huyang sent a cheeky electric charge that was stronger than the ones before. SM-33 shuddered, mewling in need while Huyang chuffed.

Then SM-33 fought him back by shoving another bead inside of him with little to no warning. Huyang cried out, reeling, back arching in a deep curve.

“Ah, yer so pretty like this~” SM-33 moaned, dragging his hand over his trembling stomach plating.

Huyang could barely manage an overwhelmed grunt, before Thirty-Three pressed in a fifth. He shrieked, tensing up with pleasure and shooting as much of it as he could through their two way. SM-33 curved over him, wheezing as coolant dripped down his legs where his plates stayed stubbornly closed.

“Mmgh, bastard~” SM-33 laughed breathlessly. “How’d I find meself such a piece of art in the Jedi Order?”

Huyang heaved, more a dizzy observation than anything, “You’re leaking.”

“Aye. Why, do you wanna touch it, princess?”

Huyang let out an amused chuff. “‘Princess’?”

“Aye. Yer pampered like one.”

That made the professor laugh. He shoved Thirty-Three’s shoulder, before tracing his fingers down, dragging them over his wired abdomen and resting his fingers against the edge of his modesty plating, where it hid Thirty-Three’s drooling port.

The pirate groaned, pressing against Huyang’s fingers, but he withdrew, albeit begrudgingly. “Nah, leave it.” Despite that, he leaned his pelvis down to grind against Huyang’s spread thigh. “C’mon, you said you were good at data pushin’, er, implied it ‘suppose.”

The professor leered up, “Are you challenging me? Right now? While I have a two way access to your drives and processors?”

SM-33 chuckled, positioning himself to grind his pelvis plating against his. He leaned back on his haunches, rising his hips to instead grind against Huyang's swollen port. The professor yelped, head reeling as he tightened his grip on the blankets under him. "Oh, gods, ah~! Thirty-Three ..."

" Try ta crash me, 'Yang. I wanna see what ya got. I'll give ya a reward~"

The old droid whimpered, shivering as SM-33 rubbed a thumb along the rim of the port, teasing him. He gasped, voice shuddering with static and pleasure, "Fine, fine." The professor didn't bother forcing his processors to yield to him, deciding SM-33 got to have the jumbled together mess he made him. If he was in the pirate's shoes, he would like to see his handiwork, too.

His drives hummed, firing up back to full capacity again, and the pirate jolted a little but otherwise remained steadfast. And then Huyang grabbed everything he thought SM-33 would like from his drives, his data, his processors, his sensors and shoved it all in with an electrical charge that was sizable enough to blow the fuse off a mousedroid if he sent it right.

And that had the pirate crying out. Huyang gasped sharply as SM-33's pelvis ground down hard against his, coolant sputtering from his closed modesty panels. His Basic devolved into static laced Binary, photoreceptor flickering as his back snapped into an arch. Binary screeched, "Krick! Krick! Good! So good! Huyang, more, more, more -"

The feedback loop ignited with white hot stimulation that had Huyang's own processors reeling, along with the sensors stimulated by the toy in his port. Huyang's fingers dug into SM-33's hull desperately, leaving tiny dents that he would likely have to help hammer out later. Huyang cried out as overstimulation rammed into him with full force, and he decided to let the feedback loop repeat onto itself until it died. He heard something in SM-33's hull pop, but the connection was still stable, so he held fast as SM-33's climax crashed through the two way.

Thirty-Three blinked rapidly after several moments of white euphoria, finding himself bent over Huyang, who shuddered under him.

"Thirty-Three?" Huyang asked weakly, voice still laced with static.

"Ha... Ah, stars, 'Yang... That was..."

"Did you like it?"

SM-33 chuckled. "'Course. You deserve a treat~"

Huyang shivered in excited expectancy. His plates were warm under Thirty-Three's fingers, and he could feel the thrum of Huyang's climax lurking under the surface. How the two way didn't take the professor with him, he had no clue. Maybe Huyang was learning how to hold out longer than he used to. Or maybe he did climax and was waiting for another.

Either way, SM-33 rubbed the last orb against Huyang's port in a little tease, and the professor whimpered, head reeling back to rest against the pillows. The pirate hummed, watching Huyang closely as he pressed it inside.

Huyang’s vocoder let out a burst of static as it was pressed in, throwing one arm over his eyes and swinging the other arm out to clutch at the bed frame so tight he made dents with his fingers. Vents puffed out hot air and steam, and Huyang managed a gritted curse. SM-33 gave it a good final push which had one of the professor’s legs kicking out against the mattress. Thirty-Three chortled, pleased at the writhing mess under his hands.

Huyang had never felt so incredibly overwhelmed like this. He likened it to having an item too many shoved into his storage compartment, except with far more sensation than just being a little uncomfortable and messing with his gravitational sensors.

He noticed attempting to close his legs had his inner walls shifting in a way that had him moaning. He settled for simply laying back and splayed out, using Thirty-Three’s hips for grounding his heels. He twisted his hips experimentally and groaned. Thirty-Three shivered through the two way still connected to their data ports. “Gods, ‘Yang,” the pirate breathed, pressing his thumb along the line of his bottom “lip”, “Yer a work of art… yer so kriffin’ pretty.” He leaned forward, grinding his helm against his, reaching between them to rub his fingers along Huyang’s port and the swollen edges of silicon. “I’m so glad yer mine.”

Huyang could only manage a desperate noise. Shifting his hips to chase the stimulation of Thirty-Three’s fingers was challenging, between the beads shoved so far up his port he was certain he would be sensing it’s ghosts for days and trying to move with them inside of him. But the pirate made his work easy. He grabbed at the ring and tugged lightly, enough for Huyang to cry out.

The professor whined, “Thirty-Three, please-!” He gasped sharply, hips bucking as SM-33 pulled on the ring again. He managed a delirious whimper, photoreceptors flickering as his back arched. SM-33 traced his fingers over the pelvic plating that hid Huyang’s other mod, tapping lightly at it. Huyang was more than willing to obey, the plating sliding away with a click of its pistons and the mod telescoping out into SM-33’s waiting palm.

“Atta boy~” the pirate purred, giving Huyang a small stroke as a reward.

The old droid shuddered, fans whirring as he managed a broken noise from his vocoder. Thirty-Three hummed, leaning over him to use both hands.

Huyang was a mess, between Thirty-Three’s hand stroking his rod and the delicious tension inside of him as Thirty-Three tugged on the line every so often to keep him squirming and gasping.

He managed past his malfunctioning vocal cords, “Thirty- clo- ah! -close-!”

The pirate hummed, speeding up his pulls as he asked, “You ready?”

Huyang nodded dizzily, photoreceptors flickering as his eye lights occasionally rolled about in their sockets.

SM-33 pulled with his finger on the line, engaging Huyang's port's clampers in a light tug of war with the beads inside of him, leaving him gasping and writhing. He practically screamed as he felt the fullness subside slightly before there was a wet pop. That had his processors going blank, his pistons suddenly clenching tight and his back snapping into an arch as he came.

Huyang moaned through his ecstasy, clutching at the bed tightly as SM-33 relieved his clenching port of the intrusions. It had him reeling still, keeping his processors in the air far longer than he was used to until his port was sadly empty and delightfully warm and stars above , he couldn’t think .

Stuffing was pressed into the corners and spaces of his processors, fuzz and static making his normal processes lethargic. He registered the bed under him and the warm hull above him but otherwise couldn’t think of much else. He lingered in that state for what he thought was a few moments. It was quiet, pleasant, warm.

He felt Thirty-Three’s warmth shift so that he was lying next to him instead of above. He felt the fuzziness of his hand over his chest and along his steaming vents. He heard his voice, distantly. “‘Yang?” SM-33 asked, muffled.

“Mm.”

“You with me?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Thirty-Three reached up and touched Huyang’s helm, helping it slide closed over his dataport. When did the two way get unplugged?

“Mmm, guh… shh… sheets…?”

“Sheets? Yeah, I changed the sheets.”

When did that happen? Huyang grunted, unbothered, snuggling into the fuzziness of SM-33’s hull next to him. The pirate chuckled warmly, petting Huyang’s helm. “C’mon, ‘Yang, you gotta get back ta th’ land o’ the living. I don’t think that Jedi would take too kindly to me returnin' you broken.”

He grumbled and sighed, forcing his processor to work through the kinks brought on from the aftermath of their coupling.

Finally, Huyang mumbled, still content in his afterglow, “I needed that.”

SM-33 laughed. “Needed someone ta completely blow your processors out?”

“Hm. Something like that.”

Chapter Text

SM-33 had never worn clothes before in his life, unless one counted jewelry and treasure from a pirate's wildest dreams. He never had the particular desire to anyhow, not like the professor did. Thirty-Three didn't consider himself nude, and Huyang never did either, but when it came to himself, he was particularly decorous.

Huyang felt exposed without a lick of cloth on him, unlike most droids of a similar build. He still got anxious walking out to the droid bar in only his belt, and grew to enjoy the process of SM-33 undoing it to get at his pelvis plates during their couplings. Huyang didn't seem to think of his hull as his hull, but his body. It wasn't something that protected him from prying gazes, but something that needed protecting.

SM-33 had asked him about it once, and Huyang gave a simple shrug and admitted he always had thought that way. "In technicality, I suppose I was raised by organics and never truly interacted with droid customs," he explained over a glass of spiked cold brew caf, something the professor had started taking a liking to. "The droids of my time were very different to the droids of today. My creators likened me more to a... metal humanoid than a machine, considering most of the models of my time were astromechs, explorer units, labor units or terminal AIs, all of which weren't as humanoid as I. To see me walking around without clothes must've been embarrassing to them perhaps."

"Kinda like putting a hound in a dress because ya think it'll look cute?"

Huyang laughed at the comparison, shaking his head. "More like... A toddler being taught to wear clothes. They don't see why running about nude is inappropriate, but the parents do."

"Hm. 'Nd it stuck, I guess."

"I suppose it did."

SM-33 had pondered Huyang's answer for a very long time before deciding to indulge in something he figured Huyang might like.

He liked SM-33 undressing him. He wondered if Huyang liked undressing him, too.

The pirate didn't greet Huyang on the landing ramp of the Onyx Cinder . He had already commed him to tell him he had a surprise for him and that he was waiting in the Captain's quarters.

Huyang was intrigued and found himself giddy.

It had been a while (30.465 standard rotations, he calculated) since they had last interfaced and he was starting to get restless. Between Huyang's missions with Ahsoka and SM-33's care for his At Attin family, they didn't have time to interface like they had when Huyang was originally modified. But, during their outings that they managed to squeeze into their busy schedules, SM-33 had been touching him more often than usual and Huyang had started leaning into SM-33's contact in return. At night, his background processes were dedicated to the most abhorrent thoughts that would likely have every jedi he ever worked with rolling in their graves. He woke up just the other night from data processing to his drives whirring and his mods aching in response to a rather explicit "dream" with a certain pirate droid.

He was... pent up, as the more modern organic would say.  

When he was given more downtime than he was allowed in the last few weeks, he jumped at the chance to announce a longer day away from the former jedi and her padawan.

Which was why he was trying to keep his pace level marching up the landing ramp of the Onyx Cinder even though he wanted to bound up and throw himself into Thirty-Three's arms and ask him to fuck him against the nearest surface.

The landing ramp slid shut with his own command at the door and he walked along, calling, "Thirty-Three?"

"Aye, in here! I thought ya got me comm," SM-33's voice boomed from the Captain's quarters.

Huyang chuckled, walking up with a bit more pep in his step. "I did, I only wanted to..." Huyang's voice trailed off as he stared at the pirate before him.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread lazily and leaning on his hands behind his back. But that wasn't what had shocked him.

SM-33 had spiffed himself up from the last time he saw him. He had a new paintjob, even though his scars hadn't been sanded over, but his rust and the weathering of his metal was gone. His new colors were dark and coppery, the black of his hull something Huyang would describe as a deep sea blue and his copper joints newly oiled and lubricated. His wires looked brand new, and if he took in his olfactory data, he smelled of oil, toluene, and another scent he couldn't quite place that was woodsy and deep. He looked smooth, groomed, and - he'd daresay - handsome .  

That wasn't all. He noticed the sheen of fabric next and his photoreceptors widened minutely in their microseconds long drinking in of data. There were thin planes of frilly fabric stretched over SM-33's torso, legs and pelvis. They were dark as well, which was why it took a moment for Huyang to notice.

The droid's multifocal lens screwed above his eye rolled down over it, and the pirate chortled at the reaction. "Well?"

Huyang's jaw pistons worked to try and say something but all that came out was a bashful squeak.

The pirate said nothing, only waited for the professor to make a move or say something.

"Uh. You uh..." Huyang struggled, lens rotating back up, trying to find words past his whirling processor and his desire to grip at the fabric and feel it under his fingers as SM-33 hammered him into the bed with his cock.

Finally he settled on, "You look nice." He kicked himself inwardly. 25,000 years of vocabulary from languages throughout the galaxy, forgotten and current, and he fumbled.

SM-33 laughed, tilting his head back as he did. He straightened back up just as quickly though, and said, grateful and endeared, "Thanks, 'Yang."

Huyang released his tension. Truly, the pirate was a godsend for dealing with his stumbling.

Huyang took SM-33's good nature as permission to approach. He walked up and he was right. SM-33 gathered Huyang up in his hands, placing them on his hips as Huyang slowly dragged his fingers over the lace around SM-33's torso curiously. He pinched a thread and rubbed it between the pads of his fingers, textile sensors placing the cloth as fineweave. It was expensive, that was certain. He slowly followed the cloth down over SM-33's chest with his hands, thumbs rubbing over his hull. He settled his hands on Thirty-Three's thighs, fingers curling around the lace clutching at the pirate's joints.

He asked, finally, almost breathless, "What is this? I don't recognize this type of clothing."

SM-33 hummed, leaning forward to hover his helm just in front of Huyang's. "It's lingerie. Organics put it on ta get all pretty fer their partner's when they're about ta kark. I thought you might like it, what with you bein' obsessed with clothes 'nd all."

Huyang let out a stunned sigh of a laugh, his hands tracing from SM-33's thighs to his pelvis where a plane of the same fineweave was stretched tight over his modesty and pelvic plates, "I'm not... obsessed with clothes."

"That why yer feelin' 'em up? Not obsessed with 'em?"

Huyang didn't respond, his photoreceptors eating up what he was looking at.

SM-33 felt a surge of pride. So the professor really liked it. He was glad to impress and, judging from how hot Huyang's plates were under his hands and the quiet whirr of his fans, arouse him.

Meanwhile, Huyang felt like he was about to pop a fuse. Textile experiences were always pleasing to him, between the warmth of tea against his palms to the sharpness of grass between the pads of his fingers to the smoothness of a metal hilt held in his hand.

This lingerie was filled with tactile experiences. It was bumpy and soft but silky along the surface touching SM-33's plating, obviously to decrease chafing in an organic. As he ran his padded thumb over lace designs, he could feel each individual stitch.

It was tantalizing. It was overwhelming. It was deliciously salacious.

His mods ached for stimulation behind his modesty plates and his fingers twitched to dig into the threads and grip at them for dear life or rip them off SM-33's frame to get at the mods being hidden from him. Or, better yet, do a bit of both.

Huyang asked, "Can you... Can you interface with it on?"

"Aye, it has a little opening here."

Huyang dragged his hands up along Thirty-Three's torso until they rested on the top piece of the lingerie. Thirty-Three leaned closer to Huyang's helm. Only centimeters apart, he could feel the static electricity between their frames reaching for each other. It created a delightful buzz in the droids' processors, and that seemed to be the sensation to break Huyang's patience.

Huyang banged his helm against Thirty-Three's in a surge of desire, his fingers curling into the fineweave tight as he clambered onto SM-33's lap. The pirate let out a startled noise before it gave way to an aroused growl. Huyang ground his faceplate against SM-33's as the pirate was forced backward until he was being toppled over by the professor and pressed against the mattress.

Huyang leaned away, his vents wheezing and his vocoder letting out simulated, static laced pants before he went for the top piece to unbuckle it with shaky fingers. SM-33 arched his back to help the professor wiggle the buckle loose, and lifted his upper body to shimmy out of it.

Huyang surprised the pirate as he watched him gather the material in his hands and bury his faceplate into it and inhale through his olfactory sensors. His vents vented out the extra air and scent before he asked, voice husky, "What's the woodsy smell?"

SM-33 replied, a grin in his voice, "Cologne that one of the kiddies' parents recommended me."

"Mmm... Keep wearing it."

"Aye, will do."

Huyang bent back over him, shoving his faceplate into SM-33's neck as he started unbuckling his own apron. The pirate wrapped his fingers around Huyang's hands and took them away and started undoing it himself, letting Huyang's hands wander. The architect droid's fingers dug into Thirty-Three's abdomen, curling around wires. SM-33 let out a moan and returned the favor, his hands groping at the wires coming down Huyang's spine. The professor jolted, a desperate gasp escaping him.

He lifted his hips, just enough for his modest plates to slide open with a shunk of pneumatics. His penetrative mod extended for SM-33, pressed against his torso while Huyang ground his port down on the creases of his chest armor.

The pirate chuckled, tilting his head curiously, "Yer impatient today. Normally ya like takin' yer time."

Huyang humped SM-33's chest, grinding his mod against his shiny new paintjob. He whined, throwing his head back and eventually responded, static flickering in his voice, "I missed this. I need this."

He continued humping Thirty-Three as he spoke, pelvis grinding against his chest hypnotizingly, "I - hah - had a dream last night, with you and me. We were- were in the T-6 . Mm~ We were interfacing. I remember- I remember we were alone, no one to - ah~! - bother us, or anything. K-Kissing and taking each other in the cockpit. And I woke up."

Huyang had taken himself in his hand, starting to stroke himself as he recalled his dream, photoreceptors flickering as he was gripping behind him at the lower piece of lingerie still clinging to Thirty-Three's frame. The pirate watched this performance, photoreceptor unblinking and never leaving Huyang's thrusting hips and his hands and the way the pistons along his legs quivered.

He let the professor loose himself for a moment, let him continue grinding on his chest plates until his thrusts started becoming more desperate and forceful. Here, the pirate stopped him, grabbing his hips to make him still. Huyang obliged, if begrudgingly and with a small complaint.

“Easy, ‘Yang, yer not th’ only one here tryin’ ta get their rocks off,” SM-33 joked idly.

That seemed to shake Huyang out of his desperate state, and his gaze became apologetic. “I’m sorry, I-"

“No need ta apologize, you were givin’ me a damn good show.”

SM-33 reached between them to undo his own modesty plates, clicking on his higher sensitivity on the way. His penetrative mod slid out of the opening in the lingerie. It was a slightly tight fit and it had Thirty-Three groaning, but it was enough to please both droids. Huyang reached for the nightstand but SM-33 beat him to it, sliding open the drawer and handing him the lube.

“Thank you,” the professor hummed politely, lathering a good amount on his hand before reaching behind himself giving SM-33 a perfunctory stroke.

Between the lingerie clutching the base of his mod and Huyang’s skilled hands, SM-33 ended up a shivering, moaning mess, his own lubricant mixing with the one they were using.

SM-33 grabbed Huyang’s wrist, stopping him from proceeding before stroking his own mod once to gather lubricant over his fingers and teased his index finger along the rim of the professor’s port.

Huyang whined in need, shivering at the stimulation. SM-33 encouraged him to lean down, making his aft raise so that he had a better angle for his hand. He pressed his helm against Huyang’s neck, listening to the thrum of the electrical currents inside of him as he inserted a finger into the port.

Huyang shook, groaning in pleasure, and pressing backward against Thirty-Three’s hand. He whimpered, vents whirring loudly, “Thirty- Thirty-Three-! Please, I just- I can fit your mod right now, please I-" he moaned as SM-33 shoved a second finger in, scissoring the mod to make room for his own.

SM-33 purred, reaching up to pet the back of Huyang’s neck, “I don’ wanna break ya, ‘Yang. Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon. Jus’ be good, that’s not so much to ask for.”

The professor didn’t answer him, bent over and panting against his chest as Thirty-Three stretched him out.

Thirty-Three would’ve grinned if he had a mouth. He loved rendering Huyang silent in the midst of pleasure.

He couldn’t go at that for long though. Between the heat of their hulls and Huyang’s desperate rocking, he was feeling a little neglected himself. Huyang seemed to be able to tell but kept his hands strictly tangled in his abdominal wires or the lingerie, tugging every once in a while to elicit a grunt from the pirate but nothing that could help relieve the tension in his mods.

The pirate laughed, sitting up and making Huyang fall back onto his lap. The professor let out a breathless mewl but there was obvious triumph in the way his photoreceptors squinted up at the pirate. SM-33 snickered, pulling his fingers out of him and lifting his hips to rest him just over his slick mod, “Yer a right bastard, ‘Yang.”

Huyang tilted his head innocently, attempting to grind his hips down on SM-33’s mod to take him into his port. “Me? I think you’re mistaken,” the professor replied, voice crackling with static.

The pirate hummed, rubbing his helm against Huyang’s before thrusting upward into the other droid’s port.

The professor melted as soon as he entered him, jolting with the entrance but otherwise relaxing instantly. His photoreceptors flickered before closing altogether as he let out a grateful moan. “Oh, Maker, yes ~ Thank you, Thirty-Three.”

The pirate chuckled, rubbing his grill against Huyang’s neck. The older droid tilted his head up and back on its pistons and joints with a creak, more than willing to let SM-33 get at the wires hidden under his neck plating. His fingers spasmed as he felt the grill catch some of the thinner wires under his lower jaw, and he reached down behind himself to tangle his fingers in the frilly planes of fabric covering SM-33’s knee joints.

He pulled himself up the pirate’s length, watching the way Thirty-Three shivered with the sensation before thrusting down, letting gravity do most of the work. Their thighs and pelvis collided with a sharp clang with the impact, and it had Huyang seeing sparks in his vision. Thirty-Three reeled, moaning loud enough for the both of them. He wreathed his fingers in the wires above his hip servos, grabbing at him tight enough to dent the rim of his hip plating. Huyang couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He helped the professor raise his hips and forced him back down just as hard, and continued like that, eager to send Huyang spiraling with stimulation.

The older droid seemed to enjoy that, his head reeling back and balancing on his hands to let SM-33 take over. The pirate sighed in pleasure, tracing the curve of Huyang’s stomach plating with his visual receptors as he forced the professor’s pelvis to bounce on his mod.

“Stars, yer so pretty,” SM-33 praised breathlessly, leering forward to bury his helm against Huyang’s chin. "Such a good boy fer me~"

Huyang chuffed, hot steam puffing out of his facial vents. One of his hands untangled from the lingerie at his thigh and gripped at SM-33’s shoulder instead, holding fast as SM-33 deepened his thrusts.

They continued like that for a couple of long clicks, the sound of metal against metal and the droids’ gasps and groans and whirring vents their backdrop. Every once in a while, Huyang managed an unsteady “Missed this” or “Missed you” and SM-33 answered with sweet praise or a tap of his helm against the older droid’s. That seemed to make Huyang’s whirring louder, even though his vents were already in overdrive.

Perhaps it was SM-33’s long break from interfacing with Huyang, but he didn’t even realize the professor was hovering at overload until it happened when he sped up his pace a little bit to chase his own high. It seemed to take Huyang by surprise as well. The professor gasped sharply, letting out a startled whine that dissolved into static. Huyang’s joints locked up and the clampers inside of his port clenched down around SM-33’s length.

That sent the pirate reeling over the edge with him as he groaned, clutching the bed to make sure he didn’t accidentally collapse on top of the older droid as coolant flooded his mod systems.

SM-33’s awareness slowly came back to him, and he could still hear Huyang’s vents and processors whirring. He looked down at the droid, who was currently slumped against his chest, shivering every once in a while in response to aftershocks raking his code. SM-33 placed a hand on Huyang’s warm back under his pack, and the droid leaned into the touch with a soft noise from his vocoder.

SM-33 hummed, endeared and kept his hand there, thumb stroking the curve of his plating until Huyang finally seemed to rouse.

“Ah…” Huyang shifted, the pistons in his jaw clicking as his other hand came up to rest on the pirate’s other shoulder. He kept his head bowed, staring down at their intertwined mods and the mess that had managed to leak out of his port and soak the covers and SM-33’s cloth covered thighs and pelvis.

SM-33 tilted his head, watching Huyang shift his hips and shiver at the weight of Thirty-Three’s mod still resting inside him. “Ha…” he let out a soft sigh of a laugh before it turned into a chuckle, a giggle, and then full blown laughter.

“What? What is it?” SM-33 asked, confused.

Huyang kept laughing, but managed between giddy gasps. “I’ve never been more happy for a mess!”

Thirty-Three blinked, stunned for a moment before he started chuckling himself. “Yer a strange droid, ‘Yang.”

Huyang’s laughter died down to the occasional hiccup of a giggle, and he shoved Thirty-Three’s shoulder playfully, “All the more strange that you’ve decided I should be the one you show off for.”

The pirate grunted, resting his chin on Huyang’s shoulder, “Aye, we’re both strange droids I suppose.”

The professor hummed, content with this reasoning as he snuggled his faceplate into SM-33's shoulder to breathe in the cologne he wore. To impress him. It made Huyang's processors and drives buzz with endearment.

He eventually raised his hips and slid himself off Thirty-Three’s mod with a shiver. Coolant dripped down between them and trickled down Huyang’s inner thighs but the professor didn’t complain like he usually did. Instead, he hummed, touching one of the streaks with the tips of his fingers and observed, “More than what you usually release.”

“Aye. Wasn’t able ta do anything with meself until now.”

“Hm.” He slid off the other droid, taking the edge of a soiled cover and wiping at the fluids leaking out of him. “We both needed this sorely then.”

“Here, let me.” SM-33 took the cover from Huyang, dabbing at the coolant leaking from his port.

The professor watched, shivering every once in a while but it wasn’t enough to build up to arousal. He spoke thoughtfully after a moment, “I missed this too.”

“Yea?”

“Yes. It’s nice. Having someone take care of you like this.”

SM-33 took the sufficiently soaked square of cover away, something in his programming furrowing. “The Jedi ain’t takin’ care of you?”

“No, no,” Huyang said, his port and rod hiding away as his modesty plates were replaced with a soft click. “Not like that. I meant… Well, it’s good to have my guard down.”

SM-33 relaxed. He watched as Huyang took an unsoiled piece of the same cover and started providing his own grooming, leaning against SM-33’s shoulder to undo the lace around his hips and legs and pull the moist fineweave aside. “Aye. I understand whatcha mean.”

Chapter Text

Huyang, of course, knew that he was not SM-33’s first sexual partner. He knew that he had a “Jod” in the Captain’s quarters shortly before him and he knew even before that he had Captain Rennod. The older droid was very aware that SM-33’s mods had experienced the warmth of organics in excess compared to himself. He knew this, and he was okay with this. 

For some reason, he wasn’t okay with the idea that Thirty-Three had interfaced with other droids before him. He should’ve been just as okay with it as he was with Thirty-Three’s organic ex or late partners. Huyang expected himself to be, and so did SM-33 if he decided to just mention it in passing without sitting the older droid down for a serious discussion. 

The way Huyang came across the information was embarrassing, humiliating. He was watching the pirate as he was talking to another droid at the bar, chrome and pretty. She was attractive, he had to admit. She was a newer protocol model, sleek and slender with a slant to her hips that indicated she was made almost entirely of ball joints. Huyang took her apart with his visual receptors, analyzing each tiny part that would’ve been a marvel of engineering when he was manufactured. 

He flexed his fingers, feeling the imperceptible creak even though he was sure he had been taking care of them. In comparison to her quick speech and flashing photoreceptors, he felt slow, stupid and dim. 

When SM-33 finally ended their conversation with a friendly farewell, Huyang asked, trying to push his insecurity away, “Who was that?”

“Oh, jus’ a broad I had on me arm at some point or another. It was a handful of cycles before I met ya, I think.”

Huyang blinked, analyzing SM-33’s words. “You dated her?”

“Oh, no, just had a few interfaces, that’s all. I ain’t much fer datin’ ladies.” 

Huyang stared. He likely had a strange expression because SM-33 tilted his head, “You good, ‘Yang?” 

The professor jumped. “Uh! Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.” 

Thirty-Three squinted, “You don’t sound fine. Do we need ta go back to the Cinder ?”

“No, no. I uhm… How many other droids have you…?”

The pirate blinked, tilted his head and looked the professor over. “Eh… More than organics, I can say that. Don’t rightly remember a specific number… See, some droids like a communal interface, y’know, ya kinda loose track who’s participatin’ sometimes…” 

Huyang, in fact, did not know. And SM-33’s meandering answer was only making something in his circuits spark harder. 

SM-33 continued, finally finishing, “Mm… Maybe about 30 or so, give or take.” 

The professor felt like he was about to short circuit. “What! How- Do those many droids even have mods ?” 

“You’d be surprised how creative a droid can get when it wants ta get its rocks off,” Thirty-Three chuckled. 

Huyang’s vents were whirring at this point, an aggressive buzz to his fans that he was certain everyone in the bar could hear. He wanted to bury himself under a table and never come back out. 

SM-33’s gruff voice had gentled in comparison to the agitated air puffing out of the professor’s normally calm (if a little loud) vents. “‘Yang?” 

“Can we go back to the Cinder , please?” Huyang spoke, voice strangled and tight. 

SM-33 didn’t ask any more questions as he paid off their drinks and moved to walk out of the establishment with Huyang. The older droid was walking briskly, marching through the busy streets with SM-33 hot on his heels. “‘Yang,” Thirty-Three called. 

Huyang didn’t answer, only continued walking, but now his hands were clenched into tight fists. 

Thirty-Three sped up his pace, managing to match the professor’s pace with his loping strides. “Huyang,” he said. “Why are ya upset? Was it somethin’ I said?” 

Burning, agitated silence. 

“Huyang, c’mon. Yer never like this, tell me wh-” 

“Stop,” Huyang snapped, glancing at the pirate over his shoulder. He could feel the blades in Huyang’s voice, bared like fangs. “Stop talking. I need… I need to think. Let me think.” 

SM-33 deflated slightly, like a balloon being punctured with a needle. That only made the professor feel worse. He huffed, stopping to allow the pirate to catch up to him. “I’m not mad at you. I… Hurt, I am, but I need to find words. Leave me be, that’s all.” 

The pirate seemed to relax a little at that, but his photoreceptor was still dimmed with concern, “Aye. Aye, ‘Yang, I will.” 

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Huyang’s angry venting their background noise and their ticket to making the crowds part for them instead of SM-33’s large hull. Huyang was silent and still venting by the time they got on board. Huyang was silent but at least cool by the time they started hyperspace and still quiet by the time SM-33 had turned on the autopilot. 

The pirate looked at the professor, folding his arms and waiting. Huyang refused to look at him, instead keeping his eyes on his hands, where he flexed his joints and tilted his wrist. Finally, Huyang mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Well, I…” He went silent, processors clicking and chewing on what he wanted to say. 

SM-33 offered a line, asking, “Did that lady droid upset ya? Did she say anythin’ rude?” 

“No, nothing like that! I just-”

“Listen, ‘Yang, if anyone says anythin’ about ya, I’ll pull ‘em apart, y’hear? Rip ‘em limb from limb-” 

“She didn’t say anything, Thirty-Three, there’s no need to pull anyone apart,” he sighed, but there was a small laugh in his voice. “I… I’d rather you not do that for me, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“Mm. Well, what was it, then? You sure it wasn’t anything I said?” 

Huyang hesitated. He mumbled, “I… Maybe. I just… I didn’t realize you interfaced that often with other droids… I don’t mind! I just… Well, I assumed you only had time for Tak Rennod and-” 

Thirty-Three let out a shocked noise, after processing Huyang’s words. Then his photoreceptor squinted impishly. “‘Yang…! Are you… jealous??”

The old droid jolted, eyes wide but the agitated and flustered puffs of air bursting from his vents gave him away. “W-What?! No, I-” 

“Ya are jealous! Ha! ‘Yang, c’mon, isn’t that th’ first thing they teach ya in Jedi school? Not ta get jealous?” 

Huyang threw up his hands, crying, “I’ve never been jealous before this!” 

Thirty-Three started cackling, his head reeling back on his long neck, “And ya got jealous over me karkin’ other droids before you!” 

He laughed a little bit more before he realized Huyang’s laughter didn’t join his. He straightened up instantly, photoreceptor dimming sadly when he saw the professor had taken an interest in his hand again, his vents puffing and processors whirring with agitation and stimulus now. 

“Aw, damn… ‘Yang, I’m sorry, I didn’t… What did ya want ta say? Can ya tell me?” 

Huyang shifted uncomfortably, thumb rubbing at his joints. Finally, he mumbled, voice quiet and fragile as glass, “I think you made a mistake, choosing me.” 

Thirty-Three’s large form deflated with Huyang’s words. There was only one thing that punched him in the gut just as painfully and that was when he was forced to apprehend his gaggle of troublemakers when Jod won captainship. He struggled on words, but Huyang continued for him. 

“It’s silly, I know, but… She was so much more suited to you… And I can only imagine the other’s you’ve interfaced with were just as advanced, if not more. I… I’m not like that. I’m not flexible, or advanced, and I’m not attractive, at least not conventionally.” Huyang held up a hand to silence the pirate droid when he saw him about to speak against him. “I overheat when we couple, I’ve had to plug my battery in only after 2 overloads, I’ve crashed twice since we’ve began… I don’t even have a hydraulic system; we’ve been making due with pneumatics and wires because that’s all I have.” His vents were whirring by the time he finished, the air hot and shameful. “You deserve much better than what I give you. I don’t know why you still want to… to… do anything with this hull.”

SM-33 titled his head, waiting for Huyang to speak. When he didn’t say anything more, the pirate sighed, “I didn’t make no mistake, ‘Yang. I don’t make mistakes. Aye, yer not flexible. Ya ain’t advanced, ya don’t got them spiffy new processors or motors, yea. But ya ain’t ugly.”

“I never said I was ugly, just unattractive.”

“Eh, same shit. Ya ain’t unattractive. Yer one of the most handsome droids I’ve met.” 

Huyang’s vents let out a flustered puff of air. “You’re biased.” 

“I ain’t biased, it’s the Maker given truth. Yer so handsome,” SM-33 stood from his pilot seat and approached the professor, gently taking his chin with his thumb and tilting his head up to look at him. “There ya are. There’s those pretty photoreceptors. Don’t put yerself down like that. Yer a work of art, ‘Yang. You can put that shiny protocol droid ta shame with this hull. It don’t matter she’s made out of chrome and ball joints, she’s got nothin’ on you. I don’t see her totin’ around a pack with two extra arms. I don’t see her using her hands as gracefully as you.”

Huyang was starting to melt into his touch, shoulders slowly relaxing and vents calming as SM-33 continued, rubbing his thumb against his cheekplate, “I like it when ya overheat. Ya get so warm, ya feel like a bursting star. Pluggin’ in a battery ain’t no big deal, everyone’s done it. And I love the way yer battery vibrates when it’s chargin’ and we’re still goin’ at it inta th’ night. Crashin’ is scary, aye, but it’s nothin’ we can’t handle. ‘Nd ya’ve only done it twice out of… what, a dozen times or so? I’d say that’s a passin’ grade. ‘Nd yer right as rain afterward. Yer durable, I don’t think any of them young droids can say the same. And hydraulics are overrated. I like feeling your electrical currents under me fingers while ‘m teasin’ ya. And ya make the best sounds.” 

SM-33 flicked his index finger under Huyang’s chin to pinch one of his wires, making his vocoder rumble in a soft whine. SM-33’s photoreceptor softened as he tilted his head. “Yer everythin’ an ol’ space dog like me wants, ‘Yang, ‘nd more. Yer perfect jus’ like this.” 

Huyang was silent for a few moments, leaning his helm and weight against SM-33’s hand, his arms drooped and his hands dropped between his knees. The pirate waited, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over the old droid’s cheek before the professor mumbled, “Thank you, Thirty-Three. I think I needed to hear that.” 

“Of course, ‘Yang.” 

They stayed like that for a few moments before Huyang straightened up and grabbed SM-33’s wires coming from the back of his head and urged his helm down, pressing it against his with a click. Huyang whispered, “Can we take this to the Captain’s quarters?” 

SM-33 snorted, leaning away by a centimeter, “All that talk about interfacin’ got you riled up?” 

“No. It was the praise, I think.” 

Thirty-Three laughed, rubbing his helm against his. “How ‘bout we do it here? Hyperspace as our backdrop, hm?” 

Huyang hummed, plucking lightly at the wires along SM-33’s abdomen. The pirate shivered, letting out a soft sigh. “I think you just want to do it here because I mentioned interfacing in the T-6’s cockpit last time.” 

“Mm. Maybe. We’re in hyperspace, we’ve got privacy. And if we get out, we’ll jus’ be floatin’ in space until we get ta Coruscant.” 

The professor tilted his head thoughtfully, before he said, “Alright.” 

He giggled giddily and grabbed at Huyang’s belt. The professor lifted his hips, allowing the larger droid to work the leather strap off of his waist struts. He set it aside onto the arm of the copilot seat, grabbing at them to hoist himself up onto the seat with Huyang. The older droid let out a startled noise but his vents released a pleased chuff as SM-33 ground his grill against his mouth plates. 

Huyang reached up to caress the sides of SM-33’s helm, fingers curling against his dome and his thumbs crooking along the joints of his vocal amplifiers that extended out towards his grill. He hummed, enthused. 

SM-33 reached between them and quickly turned his sensitivity higher and pressed down on his modesty plates. His penetrative mod telescoped out, curving against the plane of Huyang’s abdominal plate. He tapped impatiently at the plate between the older droid’s legs. “Can I? Please, ‘Yang, I need ya.” He ground his port down against Huyang’s thigh for good measure, watching the older droid shiver under him as he moaned provocatively at him, trying to encourage him. 

“Yes,” Huyang panted, leaning back to let SM-33’s hand trail lower. “Yes, go on. Yes.” 

SM-33 pressed down on the plating hiding Huyang’s penetrative attachment, letting it slide out against his palm. He brushed his thumb along the side of one of the pistons lining its head, and whispered an adoring coo as Huyang shivered, his helm leering back on its joint to rest against the back of his chair. 

“Hff. Thirty- Thirty-Three,” Huyang rasped, spreading his legs a little wider as SM-33’s gentle touches started turning into eager strokes. 

“Mm… Yer so handsome, ‘Yang. So pretty. I love the way ya say my name, love the way it sounds comin’ from that vocoder.” SM-33 unfolded his fist away from Huyang’s shuddering length, pressing his fingers against its chin instead and watching it eagerly as the pistons engaged, shrinking and stretching with his push. 

The professor stuttered, a groan sounding from deep in his chest, his vents whirring and vibrating his hull. “ Mm-mmm-mUh-! Thi- Ah! C-Careful, I- Oh~ ” 

SM-33’s photoreceptor squinted in a grin. “That good fer ya?” 

“M-M-More.” 

Thirty-Three tilted his helm before slowly moving himself off Huyang’s lap, leaving a wet spot where his port had been resting on his thigh. Huyang’s photoreceptors flickered, watching the pirate curiously as he kneeled down before him instead, pressing his hands on his knees and spreading his legs further to make room for his larger hull. With complaints from Huyang’s joints, his knees ended up over SM-33’s shoulders, and he was forced to use the copilot chair’s arms to stabilize himself. 

“What- What are you- Augh~! ” Huyang shouted in ecstasy as SM-33 ground his grill against the underside of Huyang’s mod, static electricity sparking against their metals and creating stimulation that the professor didn’t even know was possible for them, considering Thirty-Three’s lack of a mouth. 

“Ah- Hah- Th-Thirty-! Oh! ” the droid babbled, fingers scrabbling against the arm rests as the pirate dragged his grill up and down his mod. Delicate metal clicked and clinked as it went along the grooves in metal joints, static electricity sparking and igniting Huyang’s sensors with pleasure and ecstasy. 

SM-33 rested his chin against Huyang’s shivering pelvis plate nearby, looking up at him lovingly as he trembled and panted, vents whirring and releasing puffs of flustered steam. SM-33 purred, “I love it when ya get like this. Yer so karkin’ beautiful. Everythin’ about ya.” Huyang shivered, letting out a desperate mewl, his mod twitching with the praise. 

SM-33 decided to take it further, leaning forward to press his grill and helm against Huyang’s length, whispering sweet compliments into the warm metal and circling the base with his thumb. That had Huyang whimpering and moaning desperately, hips twitching with each tiny spark of stimulation and praise. The droid was like a bottomless well, eager to take as much praise and compliments as Thirty-Three was willing to give and then more. 

Finally, Thirty-Three leaned away, finding himself dripping and drooling from his own mods and Huyang a shuddering mess, photoreceptors flickering and unfocused. 

The pirate straightened up, grabbing Huyang’s shoulders and pulling himself back up onto the chair. Huyang let out a dizzy noise of confusion before SM-33 pressed the head of his mod against his port. “Yer gonna be a good boy fer me, aye, ‘Yang? Gonna take me real nice.” 

“Yes, yes,” the professor begged, wrapping his fingers up in SM-33’s wires. 

“Tell me ya will?”

“I will, I’ll be good.” 

“Mmm, ‘be good’? What will ya be, ‘Yang?”

“Oh, please, Thirty-Three-” 

“What will ya be?” 

Huyang’s processors whirred, photoreceptors flickering with fuzzy adoration. His vents puffed, and he rasped, “I’ll be a good boy. Please, Thirty-Three, I’ll be a good boy.” 

“Atta, boy~ Perfect.” SM-33 pressed himself down on Huyang’s mod, sliding him inside of himself with little resistance. 

Huyang reeled, wheezing out hot air and clutching tight at SM-33’s hips. He let out an almost illegible moan of the pirate’s name before Thirty-Three started rocking on Huyang’s mod, pulling up and down his length with the slide of lubricated silicon against metal. 

Huyang babbled, head rolled back against the seat. It was mostly incoherent, his processor and drives driven mad with stimulation and flattery. All the while, Thirty-Three heaped on more, fucking himself on Huyang’s mod and chanting at him, “Yer so good, so perfect. Yer so handsome and smart and pretty-! And sexy! Maker above, ‘Yang, yer so sexy!” 

His pace quickened, clangs and slickened metal heating the cockpit. SM-33 growled, voice pitching with static, “Tell me yer sexy, ‘Yang, tell me yer perfect! C’mon, I need ya ta tell me!” 

Huyang floundered, vocoder shot with static feedback and overwhelmed. Something in his programming reeled a little at such blatant vanity, but the rest of him, maddened with pleasure, overrode it. He managed, stuttering and gasping, “I-I-I’m sexy-! I-I’m p-perfect! I-I’m a good- good boy-!” 

The professor gasped, back snapping into an arch as his overload grappled him, white blurring his vision as his photoreceptors squinted and brightened with excess electrical charge. His pistons and joints locked, fingers clawing at the arm rests. 

SM-33 fucked himself on Huyang’s stuttering mod himself until he came to his own head, moaning and sputtering out coolant. Thirty-Three used the back of the chair to balance himself so he didn’t crush Huyang’s twitching form under him, currently gasping and mewling as Thirty-Three’s port clenched around him. 

The pirate was the first to get his helm back on straight, as usual, looking down at Huyang’s caved in hull under him. SM-33 chuckled, seeing the strings and pools of coolant he had leaked and squirted over the older droid’s abdomen plating and wires. He reached up to touch Huyang’s cheek, tilting his limp helm. The professor grunted, photoreceptors flickering. SM-33 decided to let him be for a little longer, slowly raising himself off Huyang’s mod, coolant stringing and dripping between their former connection. 

Once he managed to rifle around in the cockpit’s compartment storage, he found an old rag that he used to wipe himself down and then Huyang’s stomach, wires and mod. The professor woke as he was working at his stomach plating, looking up dizzily. “Thirty-Three…?”

“Aye, ‘m here.”

Huyang looked down, seeing SM-33 bent over his plating, wiping away drops and globs of liquid. “Thank you,” Huyang sighed. 

“Of course. Y’know I like takin’ care o’ ya, ‘Yang.” 

The professor chuckled, reaching up to rest his hand against the nape of SM-33’s bent neck. “Sometimes I think you’re lying about being a former KX unit, and you’re actually an old nanny droid.” 

“Ah, shut up. Maybe I won’t clean ya up next time.” 

Huyang only laughed, amused, and said nothing more. 

SM-33 looked up at Huyang from where he was positioned, bent over his stomach. The lights of hyperspace flickered and reflected off his white paint in a kaleidoscope of greens and blues, and his photoreceptors were lidded and soft, the glow dim in the midst of afterglow. The usual set of his jaw was loosened, pistons neutral and resting. 

“I wasn’t jus’ sayin’ that ta get ya hot ‘nd bothered, y’know,” SM-33 stated. “Ya are sexy.”

Huyang blinked and then giggled, flustered. “Ah, hah… I, uh… Oh my, I must’ve looked like a fool…” 

“Nah, I think it was pretty hot. Ya need ta get better about tellin’ yerself yer pretty, ‘Yang.” 

Huyang shifted, his still warm vents puffing. “I-I know. Thank you, Thirty-Three.” 

The pirate hummed, pleased with himself, “Yer welcome, ‘Yang.”

Chapter Text

Huyang was an inventor and scholar, first and foremost. He prided himself on his skills, learned and programmed, and rightly so. His skills in enhancing technology, however, was what he preened over most. There were few things he couldn’t enhance, even when it came to his own body, as evidenced by his mods, sexual and casual. 

He had been researching ways to make SM-33’s couplings with himself more exciting, without cutting himself open and replacing his pneumatics and wires. He didn’t really want a hydraulics system purely to make a mess like SM-33 did anyhow. The thought made his vents huff in annoyance at the idea of cleaning it up. 

His research was discreet and private. He didn’t like the idea of Ahsoka or Sabine witnessing the lude diagrams, articles and videos he was currently shoving into his drives, so he tended to either research this particular subject in the locked confines of his workshop or in one of the hangar suites that was rarely visited, and even then, only by the occasional lonely astromech or mouse droid. 

It was while sitting on some crates in the hangar did he find something intriguing in a video he had been combing through. It was one of those lude videos that lurked in the recesses of the holonet, where they were specifically created for organics to “get off to”, as SM-33 would say. It was between a service droid and human, as most of the videos within the genre he was looking into tended to be. He had been boredly scrolling through it until- “Oh,” Huyang blinked. “That’s a… way to use a nutrient intake pipe.” He tilted his head, watching the video further, mostly out of intrigue. “Now, how… Did they pressurize it? Fascinating…” 

Huyang had been experimenting with his adjustment for a while, and he was more than excited to see SM-33’s reaction. He wasn't necessarily impatient for it, but it was certainly difficult not to be while SM-33 was hilt deep inside of his port, hammering his thoughts into glorious errors. He wanted to service the younger droid in a way he deserved, show something new to him, just for him. The professor tugged SM-33’s cables needily at the thought, back arching as SM-33’s thrusts started quickening. 

The professor let out a glitching moan, pulling him in close with his legs and arms, fingers digging into his sea black hull. His gaze flickered, realizing how close he was to overloading. The clampers inside of his port clenched and circled at SM-33’s dick, seeking as much stimulation as possible. 

He gasped as his overload crashed into him like a warm wave, pistons locking and clampers keeping SM-33 where he was as he rutted out the last of his thrusts before coolant spilled from him with a groan. 

Huyang rose from oblivion after the pirate, as usual and looked up at him dizzily. SM-33 hummed, rubbing his helm against the side of his. Huyang chortled, reaching up to card his fingers over SM-33’s wires and rub his helm and mouth against his grill. He rasped, “Plug me in? I have something in mind before we stop for today.” 

SM-33 tilted his head curiously, rising up from Huyang’s gentle kisses to look at him, “Somethin’ in mind? Is it somethin’ you’ve told me about?”

Huyang’s eyes squinted impishly. “No, not yet. I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

That made the pirate even more intrigued. He leaned over the professor, chuckling, “Whatcha got hiding up yer sleeve, jedi teacher?” 

“Plug me in, and I’ll show you.” 

SM-33 hummed, and then straightened, pulling himself out of Huyang’s port with a wet pop (that made the professor shudder) before reaching for the recharging cable that was plugged into the bulkhead of the Captain’s quarters. Huyang tilted his back to let SM-33 access his charging port, watching him as he plugged him in with a gentle thunk and click of the connection locking in place. Huyang always liked getting plugged in by the pirate; he was always so gentle, like he was the most delicate piece of machinery.

He straightened up, asking, “Can you sit on the edge of the bed?” 

SM-33 let out a curious noise before tilting his body to hang his knees off the bed and sit up. “You plannin’ on givin’ me a blowjob, ‘Yang?” 

“Mm, something like that.” 

SM-33 tilted his head to one side as he watched the older droid bring a pillow with him as he settled it between the pirate’s feet and then kneeled on it, his port still dripping with SM-33’s coolant. 

“I found something interesting on the holonet, and I wanted to see if I could do it. It required some readjustment of pneumatic systems and a stronger vacuum installation, but I think you’ll appreciate it.”

“‘Yang, I don-”

Thirty-Three was cut off as he watched the professor’s mouth open. He could hear tiny pistons inside Huyang’s jaw as it moved to gape open for him to witness what he had done to himself. He saw the usual internals: the pistons inside Huyang’s mouth, the flat plane of metal that Huyang’s grill, vocoder and modulator sat on, and the gaping hole that led down Huyang’s throat to his modded waste bucket that let him ingest foodstuffs. There was a hiss as the usual intake pipe slid out over the vocoder. But what surprised the pirate was the fact it moved. 

Usually, it was rather limp, more a glorified plastic tube than a piece of machinery. But here, Huyang’s moved . He likened it to the curl of an insect’s proboscis, as it curled out to meet him. He could feel the slight breath of air against his mod as the tube rested against the head of his dick. 

“Well?” Huyang asked without moving his mouth, eye lights raised to SM-33’s face as if he could read a reaction there. 

“Wh- You made it- Ya made it move ?” 

“Yes. I have points of rotation and articulation on it as well, so I can do this.” The tube curled with a noise of young machinery, tilting and wrapping around the base of SM-33’s mod and slowly dragging up and closed around it. 

SM-33 laughed breathlessly. His port settled against the side of the bed underneath his dick was positively drooling with need. “That’s- Yer kriffin’ crazy, ‘Yang.” 

The professor chuckled, settling his hands on SM-33’s knees. “I take it you like it. Lay back and relax. I want you to enjoy yourself.” 

Thirty-Three didn’t lay down, only rested backwards on his hands as he watched Huyang reach with one of his hands and help his pipe wrap more firmly around the penis held in its curl. The pirate watched as the professor’s jaws worked to open wider until he could hear the tiny pistons creak with the effort. Then he was taken inside Huyang’s mouth. 

It was a tight fit, with the internals inside the professor’s mouth but he had been taken in despite it. He could feel Huyang’s vents puffing against his length, and the pipe reflexively shifted, like the droid was trying to swallow. Thirty-Three groaned, feeling the pipe tighten slightly with the hiss of a vacuum seal deep inside Huyang’s throat. Huyang hummed, pleased with Thirty-Three’s reaction. The pirate’s hips twitched at the feeling of Huyang’s vocoder rumbling against his mod. 

Huyang reached forward, holding one of SM-33’s hips and curling his fingers into the wires layered under his struts while he wrapped his fingers around the small amount of SM-33’s length that didn’t make it into his mouth. 

The professor deactivated his blinking mechanisms to stare as he drew his head back on his neck pistons, his joints creaking and his pneumatics hissing before pushing the length back into his mouth. 

The pirate moaned, throwing his head back as he felt Huyang do it again, becoming more bold in his movements. His pipe curled and clenched around his dick, pulling with the whirs of the older droid’s neck pistons. Huyang went so far as to delicately rub his thumb over the wires that curled over the joint at the base of his mod, tugging and rolling them between his finger pads. 

SM-33 let out a desperate growl, trying to speed Huyang up with his hips, but the professor quickly held him down, pushing back against the pirate’s twitching until he was on his back on the mattress, gasping and groaning as he was worked into a glitching mess. His hips canted desperately against Huyang’s hands, wanting him to speed up. But Huyang took his time, idly lapping at SM-33’s penis inside of his mouth and the coolant escaping the vents along its length. He uncurled the pipe for a moment to drag over the wires he had been fondling at the joint of the penis, and SM-33’s hips stuttered as he gasped. 

“H-Huyang! Gods above, speed up, I’m- AH~! - Stars, yer so kriffin’ good at this, bloody- oooh, hell - ‘YANG!” Thirty-Three screamed as the pipe found its way to the head of his dick inside of Huyang’s mouth and at the entrance of his throat. The softly pointed end caressed one of the four slits at the head of SM-33’s mod, and Huyang watched eagerly as the larger droid writhed. He dragged the point delicately along the slit before teasing it along the rim. That made Thirty-Three whine like a TIE fighter, back arching as his fingers spasmed against the covers. 

He didn’t cum yet, Huyang knew this, but it was a close thing. He could feel the increase of lubricant leaking out of the rim of his bottom jaw. But he didn’t want it to end, not yet. He slowly drew away, leaving SM-33’s mod with a kiss of his helm against the leaking head. SM-33 complained, of course, shifting desperately and letting out a growl of frustration. “Ugh, kriff . ‘Yangg, c’monn.” 

“Not yet, Thirty.” He brushed his hands over SM-33’s hips and stomach, listening to the loud whirring of his fans and feeling the thrumming of electricity in his wires. “There’s so much more I want to do to you.” 

The pirate let out a flustered grunt, shifting impatiently, but made no move to take matters into his own hands. 

Huyang’s photoreceptors squinted giddily. Control . He was in control. It was heedy, enticing, intoxicating. Having a droid as large and powerful as Thirty-Three become a writhing mess under him was attractive in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

He made SM-33’s hips tilt further up. He had to stand to support him, watching eagerly as the larger droid’s body curved and twisted to support his weight and lean against him. Soon, his legs were over his shoulders and Huyang gripped at his knee joints with his secondary claws. Huyang stared down at SM-33’s begging, drooling, clenching port, and he wanted nothing more than to please him but keep him just at the edge until he was babbling like a malfunctioning battle droid. 

He bowed his head carefully, keeping eye contact with SM-33 down his abdomen and pelvis as he buried his mouth against the plush, leaking surface of the pirate’s cunt. SM-33 threw his head back against the mattress, his pistons squeaking and squealing as he tried to keep still. His vents puffed out steam and his vocoder let out a glitching moan as the pipe inserted itself down the port. 

“ Kriff, kriff, stars~! Oh, stars , oh Maker - KRIFF - ‘Yang, oh my- Ah hah~!” SM-33’s port clenched dangerously around the carefully sucking and moving intrusion.

Huyang paused in his ministrations, rubbing SM-33’s shaking thigh soothingly. “ Shhhh . Easy, Smee, not yet. Not yet. Hold on.” 

The pirate moaned needily, photoreceptor flickering and unfocused as he twitched desperately. “Gods, ‘Yang, yer such a bastard, please-! ‘M so close… ‘Ve never tortured ya like this…!” 

The professor hummed, continuing his pipe’s flexing at a snail’s pace. “You have full permission to do this to me next time, how about that?” 

“ Mmghh … Nngh. Yea. Aye. That’s good.” 

Huyang worked SM-33 back up into a writhing mess once more, sending the droid mad with his leisurely pace and his gentle caresses that burned his armor and seared his wires. The professor was enjoying himself, humming and chuckling in pleasure as he watched the pirate twitch and glitch and beg to overload. 

The professor shifted, finding himself uncomfortably tight and needy himself. He didn’t drool and leak like Thirty-Three but he was running hot with his fans working overtime to keep himself from short circuiting. The battery inside his torso hummed and rumbled with the abuse on his charged power supply. 

Finally, blessedly, he started speeding up his ministrations. Thirty-Three rose to the occasion with an eagerness and desperation he hadn’t seen from the pirate before. “Yes! Yes! Oh, Maker, yes, just like that, ‘Yang!” 

Huyang hummed, not saying a word as he took himself in hand with a free hand and started stroking himself in time with the pistons working SM-33 to his overload. 

Then SM-33 grabbed him by the helm, clasping his hands on either of his temples. The professor let out a shocked noise, his grip on his own dick tightening in response. Thirty-Three urged Huyang’s mouth against his port, the professor’s helm pressing against the shaking, leaking mast of the pirate’s dick. The larger droid kept him there as he rocked his hips desperately against his mouth, nose and piping. 

Huyang moaned into SM-33’s port, shuddering as he tried to keep his fraying composure together. That ended spectacularly as SM-33 came, coolant flushing over Huyang’s mouthplates and into his jaws and spilling out over his joint and pistons in his neck and into his neck port. At least, that’s what happened to the coolant that didn’t end up forced down his intake pipe and throat. He scrabbled for purchase against Thirty-Three’s clenching thighs and found himself locking up into his own overload as white fuzzed over his vision. 

He awoke after a few moments, collapsed on top of Thirty-Three, in between his large thighs. He had expected to awake after the pirate, but instead, he could hear SM-33’s programs just starting to kick back on after him. 

Huyang flexed the pistons in his jaw, groaning at the tired creak. He slowly slid the pipe out of Thirty-Three’s port and had to take it in his hand to help it sputter out leftover coolant. 

It slid back inside his mouth with a click, and SM-33 panted, “‘Yang? Are you awake?” 

“Yes,” Huyang croaked, vocoder gurgling on coolant that flooded his mouth. 

“That was… Gods… I didn’t know ye could do that.” 

Slowly, Huyang sat up to look down at Thirty-Three. The pirate’s photoreceptor shuttered once, twice, then he laughed. “Woah! Woah , heheh… Wow, lookatcha.” 

“What? Is it bad?” 

“No, it’s jus’... Well, we need ta get ya a deep cleanin’.” Huyang’s mouthplates and neck were soaked, dripping with coolant and lubricant. SM-33 took his face in his hands, tilting it to the side to stare at the globs of fluid clinging, dripping and oozing out of gaps in facial plating. “Oh, yeah… This is deep clean material. Ya look kriffin’ sexy, though.” 

Huyang chuckled, photoreceptors squinting, “I think your definition of sexy is skewed rather spectacularly. I’m a mess.” 

“Aye. Covered in my mess.” 

Huyang hummed, tilting his head into SM-33’s palm. “Hm. I see.” 

“Don’t think I forgot about ya leadin’ me on fer that long. ‘M definitely returnin’ th’ favor.” 

Huyang blinked. Well, he certainly had that to look forward to.

Chapter Text

“It ain’t too tight, ‘Yang?” 

“No, I don’t believe. It’s certainly… restricting.” 

“Aye, that’s the goal.” 

The lightsaber professor was currently laying on the bed in the Onyx Cinder ’s Captain’s quarters, plugged into a power source and on his back. This had become a familiar situation for himself to be in on the Onyx Cinder whenever either of them decided to indulge the other. But what was unusual was the rope constricting him. It was tied in lacing, geometric patterns, crossing over his hull and clutching at his joints, forcing his hands above his head and his ankles pressed together in tight binds. 

Huyang flexed his pistons in his restraints, grunting slightly at the tug of the rope on his durasteel and the way his joints creaked with the strain. 

“I don’t see how this is going to be effective for coupling. Don’t I need to move?” 

SM-33 chuckled, leering over the older droid. “Nah, not tonight. You get ta sit back ‘nd take everythin’ I’ve got, like we agreed.” 

Huyang grunted, shifting anxiously. 

“Ey, don’t get into yer head, ‘Yang. Safeword’s ‘tea’, like we said.” 

“I don’t think I’ll need it.” 

“Jus’ in case. Here, I’ll start ya slow.” 

SM-33 leaned over Huyang’s hull, reaching down to press his hands along his arms. The sensors there were one of the duller areas of the droid’s body, so it made sense to start there. The professor shivered, but otherwise held still as SM-33 slowly caressed his palms and fingers up and down the length of the plating. The pirate could pick up the slightest indentation of old scars and dents along the armor, scratches baked into his durasteel likely from centuries ago. He circled his thumb around a particularly rough dent, watching the professor let out a soft sigh, releasing some of his tension. 

SM-33 squinted his photoreceptor encouragingly. “Yer doin’ real good, ‘Yang. Jus’ relax. I’ve gotcha. I’m gonna take good care of ya.” 

The older droid breathed, fingers twitching as SM-33 massaged his thumbs over the older droid’s palms, “I don’t doubt that.” 

SM-33 only hummed in response, removing his hands from Huyang’s and clasping along his shoulder plates instead. He proceeded with his caressing, wanting to explore every centimeter of the older droid’s hull. He wanted to dedicate some part of his processor to mapping out every tiny scratch, every dull dent, every bumpy rivet that Huyang had collected over his centuries of function. By the time he had rested his hands on the older droid’s hips, Huyang’s vents were puffing with hot flustered air. He flexed restlessly when SM-33 tipped his hand to tease his fingers into the wires of his abdomen. 

SM-33 asked, “Good?” 

Huyang didn’t answer him, only grunted, his photoreceptors flickering and slightly squinted. 

The pirate chuckled, removing his hands and Huyang’s lids widened slightly. He asked, voice sluggish and raspy, “Thirty-Three?” 

“Hang on, I’ve got somethin’.” He brought a strip of cloth to Huyang’s face for the professor to appraise. 

He tried to move to take it in his fingers but his bindings stopped him, so he asked instead, “What is that?”

“I was thinkin’ we could blindfold ya. Since ya like textures so much, I figured you’d appreciate only feelin’, y’know?”

The architect squinted distrustingly. “I’ve never been blindfolded before,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient to turn off my visual cortex?”

“Ah, see this is more fer me. ‘Curious how you’ll look.” 

Huyang laughed, somewhat amused. He pondered the strip idly for a moment before sighing, “I don’t see why not.” 

SM-33 made quick work of tying the cloth around his helm to cover his eyes. It wasn’t dark like Huyang was expecting. The cloth was thin enough to allow the slightest amount of light and the dancing of silhouettes but otherwise, he couldn’t pick up much detail. 

The professor felt the bed shift as SM-33 leaned away, and the pirate let out an enthused sigh from his vents. “Oh wow.” He laughed, almost sounding breathless. “Gods, ‘Yang. Ya really are just such a handsome droid.” 

Huyang’s words caught in his vocoder like a fly in a glue trap, where he was about to make a quip but SM-33’s hands were back just as quickly as they left. He couldn’t see what the pirate was touching anymore, but he could feel his fingers in his abdominal wires, tugging and gently prying to get at the inner mechanics that sat under the jungle. 

He vented hot air as he felt SM-33’s hand come against the nylon deep inside of him, that kept his motors hidden from his wires and the outside world. He could feel the plane of the pirate’s palm drag up the sensors, his wrist catching on wires. Huyang’s spine flexed, pistons and joints creaking against the ropes as a soft noise escaped him. 

“Mm… don’t see this anymore. That’s real pretty.” 

A gasp was shocked out of the professor as SM-33 pinched and pulled a particularly sensitive wire under his abdominal plating. His hips flexed on instinct, pistons creaking against the rope holding him fast. 

“Easy, ‘Yang. Patience. I’ll get there.” 

He was fairly certain he would want to strangle the younger droid if he continued at this pace.

“Please…” Huyang begged, knees shuddering together but it wasn’t enough to create enough pressure to open his modesty plates himself. 

“I’ll get there. Lemme jus’ lookatcha a little longer.” 

He was fairly certain he was teasing him. There was a complaint at the tip of his tongue that quickly evaporated as he felt SM-33’s hands caress lower. He felt him delve along his inner thighs, working his way down. He took his knees in his palms, gently raising them into a bend. Then he dragged one hand down the rest of the length of his leg, taking the heel of his foot in his hand. 

Huyang was quivering, vents heaving out flustered steam. SM-33’s fingers pried at his heel, rubbing the very tips of his digits into the seams between durasteel plates. Rarely engaged pistons creaked and the pirate hummed somewhere below him. “You’ve got separate pistons in yer heel? What’s that for?” 

Huyang blinked behind his blindfold, trying to find words, his vocoder fuzzing over and choked with need and arousal. “Mm… Mm-uh, it’s for uh… Sh-Shock absorption. And supports uhn… stronger kickback? Yes.” 

“Heh,” there was a smile in the pirate’s voice. “Like me arms?” 

“Yes.” Huyang shifted restlessly, but SM-33 held his foot, tilting it on the joint of his heel to look it over. “Gods… Thirty-Three… This- This is- Please, can’t you…?” 

“C’mon, ‘Yang, where’s that patience I hear so much about?” he felt SM-33 crawl up his abdomen, and press down on his torso. His vents let out a heaving puff of air, a tiny whimper escaping him as the pirate dragged his thumb under his breast plate. “We’ll get there. No need ta be so needy. But you can keep beggin’ if that makes ya feel better.” 

Huyang could only grunt, trembling as SM-33 traced circles into his plating and dragged his hand over his abdominal plating. His hand rested on his pelvis and the professor’s hips twitched on reflex. A low chuckle rose from the weight above him and he couldn’t help the embarrassed drone that escaped him. 

SM-33’s rough hands dragged up and down his outer thighs, drawling, “Atta boy.” He blinked behind the cloth over his photoreceptors when he heard the hiss of plates releasing but it wasn’t his own, or else he would’ve gotten far more than just noise. 

“Thirty-Three?” he questioned and let out a choked yelp as the pirate’s hips crushed down against his and pressed a solid rod of durasteel between his legs, already moist. His only complaint was the fact his own modesty plates were still closed and his partner was refusing to open them while he was restrained. 

“Thirty-Three!” he cried, scandalized and a little peeved as he felt SM-33’s metallic cock slide along his pelvic plates between his legs, doing nothing for him other than making his internals hotter and providing the dullest of sensations his pelvis could provide. 

The pirate laughed above him, voice rough. “What’s wrong, Professor? I thought ya liked servicing.” 

A noise similar to a growl radiated from Huyang’s vents, the shutters and filters rattling with warm air and SM-33 only laughed more, shoving his hips against him in another drag of silicon against metal. He didn’t want to admit it, but he did like this. Perhaps a bit too much to be considered decently respectable. 

He huffed, fingers twisting in the bed sheets above his head and gears straining against his binds. “This is- hah - Thirty-Three, please -! This is so-!” He cried out as SM-33 roughly tugged on a wire along his abdomen. He couldn’t figure where from touch alone, but he knew it was sensitive and made his spine arch. A glitching babble escaped him, knees clattering to try and close themselves to create some pressure against his inner mechanisms to trigger his plating to move over his mods, but the pirate held him still as he ground against him, humping his pelvis into the mattress. 

The professor whined, his voice lost, as one of SM-33’s hands curled around his neck. He shuddered, feeling pressure against his plating and intrusions against the wires underneath. He released a sharp noise when a more sensitive wire was pressed down on and SM-33 paused, his grinding slowing a little into a more leisurely and thoughtful pace. The pirate tilted his hand, shoving his fingers into his throat. Huyang jumped, a strangled buzz escaping his vocoder at the sudden intrusions flicking through his wiring. 

The pirate’s fingers closed around the sensitive wire running against the side of his neck, pinching it and rubbing it between his pads. Huyang couldn’t speak or make a noise, suddenly incredibly overwhelmed by stimulation and pressure. He felt utterly pinned like this, completely restrained as he was and held by the neck like a misbehaving lothcat. SM-33 might as well have grabbed him by an imaginary scruff with how still and trembly he became. 

SM-33 cooed above him, words he couldn’t quite track with the electricity spurred on by overheated systems buzzing in his audio receptors but he managed a weak beep. 

And, while still pinned, he felt one of Thirty-Three’s hands trace down his body, pressing against his pelvis striped with the other droid’s lubricant and finally press down on the modesty plates holding him closed and needy. 

He could’ve sobbed with relief. The most he managed was a grateful sigh through his vents and a low buzzing noise through his vocoder. The buzzing kicked up an octave as he felt SM-33’s blessed hand wrap around his dick and give it a perfunctory stroke.

Thank the Force, Thank the Force and everything within it! he wanted to scream, but all that came out was a short, glitchy, “ Yes! ” and his hips trying to rock into him despite the ropes holding him still. 

“Easy, easy,” Thirty-Three cooed, keeping his pace casual despite his partner’s urgency. 

He teased his hand away and Huyang groaned, frustration staining his tone for a split moment before it eased away like a tide peaking onto the shore and sliding back to the ocean. The old droid managed, voice filled with static and annoyance, “Damn it all, Smee, what is wrong with you?” 

That made the pirate giggle like a schoolboy. “It’s gettin’ ta ya?” 

“Of course it is, you-!” Huyang didn’t get to finish his sentence as SM-33 dragged his thumb up the underside of the mod and squeezed Huyang’s throat, twisting the wires in his finger joints. The professor went dead silent, tensing suddenly and fingers turning into claws as they dug into the mattress above his head. His vents whirred loudly, trying to keep up with the heat building in the older droid’s hull, steam turning to lines of smoke that smelled like pleasure and ozone. 

SM-33 released Huyang’s neck, for a moment concerned at the wildly flickering lights behind the blindfold before the professor managed words, or a noise rather. A low moan rumbled out of him, rising from his vocoder with the steam and smoke. The pirate chuckled above him, leaning over him to press an electric kiss to his forehead. “Didn’t take ya fer the chokin’ type.” 

Huyang didn’t answer him, but he could hear his labored noises.

SM-33 brushed his hand down, between Huyang’s legs, finding the port warm and waiting for him, the calipers and clamps inside cycling over nothing needily. He offered a finger, wet with his own lubricant, and the mod took him like a starving beast. Huyang flinched, head rearing and back arching, tilting his pelvis as best he could in his ropes to get his finger deeper.

He was able to slide a second digit in with barely any prodding, and Huyang groaned, plates rattling with a hull shaking sigh. SM-33 leaned over Huyang, setting a consistent, quick pace with his fingers, feeling the professor’s facial vents puffing at him, steam whorling over his photoreceptor and through his empty socket. 

To the professor’s credit, he held still enough, his joints whirring as they clicked against the ropes. SM-33 hummed, slowing his pace a little, eliciting a complaint from Huyang. “Thirty-Three…” the older droid whined, glitching and wanton.

Thirty-Three couldn’t leave him like that for long, between his begging and his own drooling mods. 

He grabbed Huyang by his slim shoulders, flipping him onto his stomach. A startled yelp escaped the professor before being followed by a giddy laugh. 

Thirty-Three didn’t waste time thrusting his rod into Huyang’s port. The droid was dead silent but his vents rattled with hot air as the pirate bottomed out with a clang. 

SM-33 chortled, breathless and heated, “Gods, yer so tight right now, ‘Yang. I really kept ya waitin’, yeah?” 

Huyang managed the first legible sentence in a while, growling against the mattress and duvet he was shoved face first into, “Shut down your vocoder and kark me, Smee.” 

The pirate laughed. Huyang very rarely cursed at him, so getting him to that point was a feat in itself. SM-33 lifted Huyang’s pelvis so that he was on his knees and his torso against the bed, fingers clawed into the covers above his head. 

The breath was punched out of the older droid as SM-33 pulled back and snapped his hips into him with a sharp clash of durasteel. The professor yelled an expletive in an old language he couldn’t recognize for the life of him, voice filled with static as he trembled with pleasure. 

The pirate shifted, rising to better situate himself against the older droid, pressing his pelvis in close and curling over him. He clutched at the bound wrists above Huyang’s head, pressing him down until he could hear his joints groaning with the weight of his hull, all the while keeping his thrusts quick, shallow and brutal. 

Huyang had become a puddle under SM-33’s torso, pressed down into a shallow bump on the mattress, writhing and whimpering as SM-33 refused to let up. He’d been restrained before, over his long life, as a prisoner of war or in the midst of transport, but he’d never been pressed down so firmly by another droid that he trusted wouldn’t hurt him. The blindfold let his overwhelmed processors wander, imagining what this looked like to an outsider if they were to hear them and see them. The mere thought made him overload, with his only warning being a choked gasp of SM-33’s name. 

He could hear SM-33 moan above him, through the haze of ecstasy, but he didn’t stop. Oh, great Maker, he’s still going. Huyang flexed under the droid holding him down, vents whirring and his battery rattling with overcharge. The professor whined, a string of binary crackling through his vocoder and SM-33 only grunted above him, drawing himself back for only a moment before continuing his thrusts into Huyang’s overwhelmed port. 

Overstimulation crashed into him in waves, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the fabric of the comforter. He could’ve sobbed if he was organic, but he managed a pitiful overwhelmed cry as he was shot into another overload that had his processors buzzing and popping. 

It didn’t cross his mind to use the safeword they agreed upon. This was… impossibly addicting. If SM-33 used him like this for the rest of his functioning, he’d be a happy droid. He understood why the Jedi Code was so adamant about the control of one's sexual desires, but, dear Gods, it felt so good . 

He couldn’t manage legible words as SM-33 continued pummeling him with stimulation, only loud, filthy noises and beeps with the occasional blanket of smoke and steam puffing from his vents. He was fairly certain he was going to short circuit. He was fairly certain this would finally deactivate him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed that this was how the oldest droid in the known galaxy would finally cease to function. 

Then, like a dam snapping, SM-33 groaned, clutching at Huyang’s hips and holding him against himself as he overloaded. He gave him a few more dizzying twitches of thrusts before coolant flooded him. It was like a balm over a burn, soft and cool, and it had the professor glitching with moans as it filled his mod and then overflowed over his warm pelvic plating. 

Both droids were still for several minutes, SM-33 panting above him, caging him with his arms and Huyang all but collapsed into a heap. Finally, the pirate moved a little, eliciting a tiny whine from Huyang at the movement it elicited inside his sore mod. SM-33 murmured a lazy apology and held still for a little while longer, petting Huyang’s side until he finally, slowly pulled out. The older droid twitched in response, a groan bleeding out of him before it dipped into a tiny sigh as coolant burbled and leaked out with SM-33’s dick removed. 

The pirate rubbed his thumb against Huyang’s stomach plating, watching the teacher tremble before he reached up and gently pulled the blindfold’s knot loose and let the cloth fall. Huyang’s photoreceptors blinked, squinted and whirred as they readjusted to the light before they fell closed again with a soft grunt. “Force,” Huyang sighed, voice rough and sandy. 

SM-33 chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down the base of his spine. That resulted in a bit more of his coolant leaking from the older droid. “You good?” 

“You almost killed me.” 

SM-33 snorted, leaning forward to nuzzle the back of Huyang’s neck. “I wouldn’t’ve killed ya, ‘Yang. Yer too stubborn ta die.” 

“Mm… What would Lady Tano have said if she found out you were the one to end me in such a way?” 

“‘Lucky droid’?” 

That made the older droid laugh. It was a brittle, exhausted thing, but it was a laugh all the same. 

SM-33 untied Huyang next, starting with his wrists and working his way down to his ankles. Huyang was a limp doll in his hands, shifting only when SM-33 moved him and loose on his joints. It pleased the pirate droid. Huyang had been so tense lately; he was glad to make him putty in his hands. 

He cleaned him delicately, managing a few gentle swipes of a cloth before Huyang shifted with a noise of discomfort. So he stopped and just laid down with the older droid, pulling him into his arms and against his chest. Huyang rested his head against his collar, photoreceptors still shut. 

“Well. How did ya like that?” 

“I didn’t realize… I would like being… bound as much as I did,” he said sheepishly, a little embarrassed but not enough to hide away from it. Or maybe he was too tired to indulge in something as silly as embarrassment. 

“Hm. Do ya think you’d like ta do it again sometime?” 

“Gods, Thirty-Three. No, not in several more rotations. I can’t imagine my hardware could keep up.” 

Thirty-Three snickered, asking, “How about in a month or so?” 

Huyang’s photoreceptors flickered open to squint, eyelights rolling in thought, before they shut again. “Maybe. If I didn’t pop a fuse this time.” 

Chapter Text

Huyang wanted to go home. 

It was one thing traveling from place to place in the known galaxy over the Imperial War, lonely and quiet. It was another being stuck on a planet outside of that same galaxy, stuck with a newly reborn almost-Jedi and a stubborn mandalorian.

There was no company to speak of out here. No one familiar, no one to share time with other than the two he had traveled with. Worst of all, a particular pirate droid wasn’t there either. 

He couldn’t even comm. He had tried to. Dammit, he tried. He was still in the midst of his project of making a comm tower that could somehow reach the galaxy they had left behind. But without more materials, that was basically impossible. 

So they were delegated to simply waiting for Hera to eventually become privy to where they were thanks to Ezra and send reinforcements to fetch them, if that was even possible. They had to wait. 

And Huyang didn’t mind that completely. He was effectively immortal so waiting had become one of his specialties. 

What he did mind was the nagging, restless feedback loop eating a hole through his processor. 

He missed SM-33. Deeply. He wanted nothing more than to feel his hands and scarred hull over his palms, to smell the woodsy cologne he had taken to wearing for him on special occasions, to hear the rough gravelly voice that loved teasing and prodding him, and to see that large imposing figure and the thoughtful photoreceptor that organics seemed to always take for granted. 

Force, he missed him. He was sick with it. It made him feel like a newly manufactured droid that didn’t have a proper handle on his personality clips. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when it resulted in a future incident. 

It was a rather unspectacular night, all things considered. Another day of maintenance on the T-6, another day of trading with the Noti, another day of mindless waiting and killing time which ended in bidding his two companions goodnight as he shut himself up in his workshop to recharge, reformat, and “dream”. 

The incident arose like a predator from the shadows when it came to “dreaming”. 

He awoke in the midst of the witching hour, right at 3 standard time, to his vents whirring and his processors a jumbled, flustered mess. He blinked violently out of his unconsciousness, grunting and having to lean against his workshop desk in the dark. Huyang raised his other limp hand to grace it over his warm plating and then rested it against his lower back, like he could touch and massage the restless tension out of himself. 

That did little to calm him, and instead made his vents release a weary, flustered breath and his vocoder let out a hushed grunt of frustrated arousal. He squinted in the dark, scanning the workshop quietly and then extending his senses to listen to the T-6 outside of his workshop. Nobody had awoken at his hushed struggling and flustered gasping. And Ahsoka was a rather light sleeper. 

He shifted and released a sigh of something like relief, glad that nobody was awake to find him in such an embarrassing state. 

In the silence of the night, Huyang’s mind was cast back to the fuzzy recollection of his dream. Of familiar hands caressing his hull and pinching his wires, of a familiar voice whispering gentle praise and lovely nothings, of familiar smells of bronze, toluene, and woods. He remembered the ghosts of static kisses across his helm and mouthplate, the feeling of a larger body pressing him down into a dusty mattress with squeaky springs, the gentle caress of warm air venting out a larger hull as his hands trailed down, down, down… 

He shook himself out his stupor, blinking wildly in the dark and trying to refocus his scrambled processors. His vents were loud and his plates warm once again, condensation building thanks to the chill of Peridia’s nights and the T-6’s inability to stay warm when still being repaired. 

Get it together, he wanted to hiss at himself. You know he’s not here and most certainly can’t help you with this for a long while yet. Pull yourself together. There’s no use in pining.

Oh, but how delicious that dream was, and how much he wished it was real.

He shifted, realizing how stiff he felt, how tight his modesty plates were against his pelvis. He let out a tiny, embarrassed and flustered whimper in the dark. 

How humiliating. He couldn’t even last so long as a couple of rotations before he started getting restless for touch, for the warmth of SM-33’s hull above his, for SM-33 to either take his port or ride his rod. 

He released a sigh, and groped in the dark, pulling out his chair as quietly as he could and settling down into it. 

Huyang pondered himself and his options. He never had an issue with pleasing himself, at least until now. Purely because of close quarters. He couldn’t leave the T-6 to deal with the bothersome pressure in his pelvis in the valleys of Peridea. His companions would notice if he disappeared suddenly in the night and then came back, no matter how short the absence. 

His other option was to lock the door of his workshop and be quiet and sit in the dark. That would have to do. 

He stood and stumbled about in the dark for a moment for the door before he found it and locked it. He took back his seat at his workshop desk and sighed, tapping his fingers against his knees anxiously as he listened for the other residents of the T-6. 

When he heard nothing, he reached down, tracing his fingers over the belt of his apron. He expertly undid the clasp in the dark, tracing the small pockets until he found the bottle of lubricant he wanted. It would have to do. 

He tilted his pelvis, using his desk to prop one of his legs up to better spread himself out. He reached down and pressed on his modesty panel at his front and then underside. He heard the pistons release and then felt the sensation of internal hardware hitting cold air. He shivered, letting out a gentle coo, his vents wheezing with a warm sigh that came out as steam. 

In the dark, he spread some lube on his fingers, rubbing it into the joints. Carefully, he traced his fingers along his pelvis and the seams of his plating until he came across his port. It was already warm, steaming with need.

He tilted his hand, pressing a finger along the delicate silicon folds. He shivered, letting out a soft sigh. He prodded a little longer, teasing himself into a small gape before carefully inserting a finger inside. 

Huyang grunted, metaphorically biting his tongue to try and stay quiet. His vents were whirring once again, hot and aroused as his finger flexed inside of his port, slowly beginning to move back and forth. 

One thing he knew about the dark was that it made it much easier to imagine something than if he was in the light. He closed his photoreceptors despite already being surrounded by ebony, imagining SM-33’s rough digits being the ones prepping him instead of his own. His vocoder let out a hushed, staticy moan as he inserted another finger, scissoring himself wider. 

He rested his head back against the back of his chair, his legs spreading involuntarily, his thighs twitching and quivering as the lube wet the silicon port. 

He was inserting a third finger by the time he found an agreeable rhythm, his hips rolling with his ministrations. Simulated pants released from his vocoder, lids fluttering as his photoreceptors became unfocused. He wanted nothing more than for SM-33 to hold him down and fuck him himself. 

He used his free hand to stroke himself in time with his fingers, using his secondary claws to hold onto the chair to keep himself steady. He had settled his heels against the top of his desk, legs spread and peds curled as he worked himself into a shivering, panting mess, trying to stay quiet despite it all. His chair creaked with his eager movements, and he tried to stay as quiet as possible, the occasional tiny squeak escaping him which he very swiftly silenced. 

He sped up as he came closer to his climax, hissing a curse under his breath as he curled over himself, his knees clattering together as his fingers thrust erratically in and out of his port and his fist worked his dick. 

He had to manually shut down his vocoder so he didn’t let out a cry of ecstasy as he crashed into his climax, back arching and pistons and joints locking as his hips gave a few stuttering twitches before falling still. 

He shook and shivered through his climax and as he wound back down to the land of the living, he found himself curled forward slightly, legs lax and fingers pressed inside of him. He slowly pulled them out, careful not to reignite his arousal. He could feel the wetness of lube on them, but that was something he could excuse as being work or maintenance related in the morning. 

Huyang’s modesty plates folded back over his mods with a gentle click. He took the moment to listen for any activity in the T-6. He couldn’t hear anything of the sort, and he prided himself on his auditory sensors so he relaxed. 

He reached to the side, groping for his apron in the dark. Then he leaned too far out of his chair, teetered and then fell before he could catch himself. There was a loud clang of his hull hitting the floor with his chair and he couldn’t help the strangled yelp that escaped him. 

Now he heard activity in the T-6, as both Sabine and Ahsoka rose at the sound. He cursed inwardly, scrambling in the dark for his apron. He found it and unlocked the workshop door as he was putting it back on, ensuring the buckle was at the front of his pelvis. He opened the door to greet Ahsoka and Sabine at the same time they were about to open it. 

He spoke before the two could even open their mouths, “I’m sorry, I was working on something and I dropped it and fell while looking for it.” 

Sabine gaped like a fish looking for air and Ahsoka blinked, confused. “Oh. Well. Huyang, you shouldn’t be working right now. You should be recharging.”

“Yes, I know. I shall recharge soon, thank you for reminding me.” 

The three stood at an impasse, before Huyang asked, “Is that all?”

“I guess,” Sabine replied carefully. 

“Alright. I will see in the morning. Again, sorry for waking you.”

He shut the door before he even heard a response, listening carefully until he heard the women walk away. 

He sighed, placing his forehead against the door. He wasn’t going to do that again any time soon.