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shadow_vector2010-04-15 11:42 pm
Sky and Ground 14: Blindside
NC-17
Skywarp/Barricade, Starscream
Sticky
The meeting—probably one to go down in the logs as an epic marathon—finally ended. It hadn’t been made any shorter by Soundwave’s constant nervous glances at the door. Waiting, no doubt, for more…involvement by Skywarp. Barricade kind of missed it himself, which did NOT make the meeting feel any faster. Where was he? Barricade had last seen him, sprawled in recharge, when he left for shiftcycle.
“Right,” Soundwave said, “Next time, I shall expect suggestions to improve shift change efficiency. From each of you.” A muffled groan rippled through the table. Well, that sounded awfully tedious. Then again, everything Soundwave did was boring.
Maybe, Barricade thought, it’s just me. Maybe I’m just foul-tempered. Thinking of, you know, last meeting. Kind of hard to concentrate, sitting in the same chair, Bombshock giving me these weird looks like he’s trying not to laugh. And Onslaught, pretending a little too hard like I’m invisible. I swear he’s looking at me when I’m not looking.
After one last glare around the table, Soundwave dismissed them. Barricade stood up, gathering his datapad and input rods, trying to reshuffle the latter into some kind of order before he stowed them in his storage. The other mechs pushed away from the table with a rumble of sound.
Barricade bent over his storage when he felt something…weird, like the pull of a magnet, on the back of his head. Right before his optics blanked. He tried to remember who had been where—who this might be, as an unpleasantly familiar panic skirled up his sensornet. Bombshock’s demeanor suddenly seemed, in retrospect, ominous. And it probably meant bad things. He heard the data rods scatter on the floor as his hands flew up—one to his head, the other slashing around to attack whoever was behind him. With Skywarp’s noticeable absence, maybe someone was deciding to remind him of his place.
“Back off,” he hissed. He could still hear the sounds of the other mechs exiting. No one coming to help.
“Oh, Barricade,” he heard Starscream’s voice just as he felt a large hand wrap around his arm, “Things are not always what they seem.”
He dropped his hands, a little of the tension leaving his frame. Starscream wasn’t his greatest ally, but he hadn’t, certainly, done anything harmful. Embarrassing, yes. This was probably another of those.
But…that other time, in the refectory, had turned out pretty hot, so…maybe this would, too.
Starscream had never…you know. Even before. “It is so sweet,” Starscream whispered in his audio, “how you trust me.”
Before he could figure out a proper retort, Barricade felt himself scooped up, his feet swung off the ground, and something hard and broad—one of the jet’s shoulder struts, he thought—across his midsection.
“Not really much choice.” He grabbed blindly with his talons, trying to find purchase against what seemed to be Starscream’s ailerons.
“How quickly you learn,” the jet teased.
“Gonna tell me what this is about or do I not want to know?” Barricade felt his equilibrium shift—Starscream was walking, somewhere, with him.
“You,” Starscream said, swatting him on the aft, “have been avoiding Skywarp. That is unacceptable.”
“Haven’t been avoiding,” he said, lamely. Well, per se. Not really. “Recharge with him every offshift.”
“Barricade,” Starscream admonished, “Please give me some credit. I did notice how suddenly someone with your code ident has altered your work shift. You may recharge with him, but you do not go to him until you are certain he is already asleep.”
Damn. Should have known the jet with a reputation for deviousness would see through his amateur-level devious plot. “I—uh, he knows?”
“He has not yet put it together. Because his Trine mate has been running interference for a certain small and annoying grounder.”
“Sorry,” Barricade mumbled into the jet’s shoulder assembly.
“Well. Yes. We shall discuss amends you may make to me at a later date. However, more pressingly, I am running out of tricks to deploy on your behalf. It is time for this nonsense to end.”
“Presume the blinding is part of it?”
“Nothing escapes your perspicacity, Barricade.”
He heard the whoosh of a heavy door—not going to a recharge station. What was going on?
“You and he will work things out. Or else. Now, hush or I shall be forced to overpulse you.”
*****
Barricade felt the cold first, as Starscream swung him down against the frigid floor. He heard footsteps, receding and another whoosh of a door. A hangar. He must be in a hangar. He pushed himself to his feet, shakily, taking a few steps—hesitant, cautious steps—forward, talons outstretched on empty air. His stabilizing servos seemed to work overtime for the simple act of walking without visual feedback. He stumbled over something, landing hard on a pile of cold armor plates with a series of clangs. He pushed away, his hands on the armor recognizing some of the shapes. And he felt the familiar tingle of Skywarp’s EM field enveloping his own. He probed carefully, his left hand coming across the familiar swell of a cockpit. “Skywarp?” he said, hesitantly.
The shape under his hands shifted, groaning. “Little spike?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t know if his touch were welcome or not. He erred on the side of ‘not.’
Some tension drained from the frame underneath him. “You okay?” “Video’s out. But otherwise, yeah. You?” “Vid’s out, too. Blinding processor-ache from the overpulse. Fraggin’ Starscream.”
A large hand pet him awkwardly. “There you are.” Barricade risked another touch, encouraged by the petting. He ran one hand up the front of Skywarp’s chassis. Skywarp made a contented humming sound. He pulled Barricade closer, guiding his head with his other hand into a clumsy kiss.
Barricade whimpered, clinging to…some struts or cables his talons managed to find, his mouth eager on Skywarp’s. Oh he had missed this. All of his deliberate coming in late—he had missed this. His sensornet tingled with anticipation. Entirely inappropriate, really, in the circumstances. Skywarp gently pulled away. “I missed that, little spike.”
Barricade lowered his head, ashamed, his chin bumping awkwardly against Skywarp’s chassis. “Missed it, too.”
“That’s not all I’ve missed,” Skywarp growled, softly, running his hands down Barricade’s back, his dual-thumbs teasing at his wing fairings.
Barricade squirmed in desire and embarrassment. His fault. He’d been running away from his own mortification.
“You want to?”
Yes. YES. “Shouldn’t we…try to find a way out of here or something?”
“What? And do what Starscream wants us to do? No way. Not when I have something…,” he curled upward, guiding one of Barricade’s upper tires to his mouth and gently nipping it, “so much better to do.”
Barricade sighed at the contact. “In fact…,” Skywarp muttered, and then lunged upward, dropping Barricade on his back.
Barricade brought his hands up, trying to find Skywarp. He hated not seeing. He felt warm vents of air over his legs, the gentle ticking of Skywarp’s talons over the armor of his legs and chassis, exploratory.
“Oh!” he cried out as he felt a hot urgent kiss on one of his headlamps. He arched toward it, but it was already gone. Then, a tickling probe into his arm cables that made him gasp. Then the pliable warmth of a glossa above his pelvic armor. A soft laugh.
“I kind of like this, little spike. No idea where I’m coming from.” He felt something approach his head, and tilted his mouth for a quick, teasing kiss. He could feel his capacitor race with arousal, his spike pushing a warm glob of lubricant. “And,” Skywarp added, ducking down to kiss the interface hatch, “you cannot avoid me.”
Barricade squirmed, his hands coming up involuntarily to push Skywarp away. “Not avoiding you,” he muttered.
“Really?” Skywarp licked the plating of his hatch again. “A term you prefer better?”
“Just…just…,” he lost his train of thought as Skywarp gently opened the hatch, tentative fingers finding his covers.
“Just?” Skywarp prodded the spike cover with his glossa.
“I—I was overcharged!” he blurted. “Didn’t know what I was saying!”
“So…you didn’t mean it?” A pause, a delicate circling of the spike cover with one talon.
“Uhhhhhh,” he squirmed his hips, He did mean it. He just didn’t mean for anyone to know about it. “Didn’t want to burden you with it,” he said, lamely; pathetically grateful suddenly for his blindness.
“Ohhhhh, little spike. Barricade,” Skywarp corrected. “Not a burden. I just don’t think I can do this.”
“This?”
“Well,” a soft laugh, another tease to his spike cover, which autoreleased. As with everything with Barricade, at the most inappropriate time. “I can do this part all right.” Barricade gasped as he felt the jet’s mouth on his spike. His hands flew down, stroking Skywarp’s face. The curves and planes of his facial armor felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. His talons’ pressure sensors felt extra charged, as if to compensate for his blindness.
“Please,” Barricade whimpered. “Please. Want you.” Was it wrong to have missed this? Was it wrong to admit, even just to himself, that he wanted this? That merely recharge wasn’t enough? Did that make him no better than any other interfacing partner? One of many. One of very many Skywarp had had. He’d wanted to be different. Another laugh, that reverberated through his spike. He shuddered. Skywarp pulled away, just for an instant. “You have me.”
“No,” Barricade said. “Not one-sided.”
His frame arched into Skywarp’s renewed contact with his spike. It had been so long and it felt so good and he still wasn’t used to this kind of attention. It felt…uneven. Unfair. Like he was getting more than he deserved. Skywarp stopped, releasing his spike with one last lick. Barricade heard the heavy clack of hands against the floor on either side of his head, and then the feel of Skywarp’s valve taking his spike.
Oh. He had missed this. So much. He raised his hands, sweeping them outward until they struck Skywarp’s wrists. The jet lifted his hands, pinning the wrists down. It felt familiar, welcoming, things falling into place. Skywarp liked it this way, bracing Barricade’s arms. Barricade had learned to, too. He’d learned to look forward to trusting Skywarp, to struggling helplessly against his own desire, to long for the feel of immobilizing pressure against his wrists.
“Not one-sided,” Skywarp whispered. He rocked his hips over Barricade’s. Barricade’s body remembered the rhythm, and he shifted his own pelvic frame in a small counterpoint to Skywarp’s moves. He gritted his jaw, his already charged spike was too ready to overload. He knew what he wanted, how he wanted this to go. He would do it. Skywarp’s cooling ex-vents blasted down at him in hot bursts of air, the weight of his thighs a slick pressure sliding over Barricade’s hips. Blind, it seemed as if every sensor node had transferred functionality to his overload systems—Barricade bit his own glossa, hard enough to hurt, to gain control over himself.
“You KNOW I need you to--!” Skywarp slammed Barricade’s wrists against the floor with enough force that the wrist tires squeaked against the deck plating. Barricade yelped, and the overload he’d been holding back flooded through him. Skywarp made a guttural sound.
Barricade could feel him arching his back up, his valve quivering against Barricade’s spike. Skywarp groaned, dropping to his elbows, throwing one leg between Barricade’s thighs. Barricade hurriedly shifted his legs to accept the new mass. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Barricade breathed. He wriggled his hands free from Skywarp’s grasp, reaching up to stroke blindly at the jet, his talons finding armor he couldn’t place, which made him feel bad. He felt he should know. Should recognize Skywarp plate-for-plate, even blind.
A belated shudder ran through Skywarp, eliciting another gasp from Barricade. “Told you: not scared.”
“Won’t. Can’t.” “Oh, you can. It’s not as hard as it looks.” A bitter sound. Barricade ran a hand over his face. His own face felt unfamiliar and strange. He leaned closer, the delicious fuzz of their combining EM fields disrupting the chill from the floor.
“Won’t say it again if it makes you that uncomfortable,” Barricade muttered. He reached up again, his hand more confidently finding a clavicular strut.
“It made YOU uncomfortable, little spike. I was…well. I’ve got my own stuff. That it’s not fair to inflict on you.” Skywarp hadn’t been uncomfortable. He’d been terrified. Knowing his own capacity to inflict harm. His need to. And how undeserving Barricade was of that.
“One sided, again.” A sensation of sagging weight.
“I guess you’re right. And it’s not fair when you put it that way.” Can’t you see I am trying to protect you? And…and myself. I…could not bear it if you hated me. Both for your sake and my own. Selfish, really. Starscream was right. Would rather run away than risk bringing into the open my damage. My flaws. Would rather live without things than risk that exposure. Except…he wouldn’t rather live without. Not this time. “There are things I have to tell you. But…not now. I’m not ready.” He felt his whole body shake at the admission, carrying a tremor through his voice. He felt Barricade’s smaller talons clench over his armor, helplessly holding on.
“Can wait. Will wait.”
“And if it’s never?”
“Then…it’s never. Just…don’t leave me because of it.” I want, Barricade added, wishing he were bold enough to say it aloud, I want to know all of you, the good and the bad, the light and the dark. I want all of that. All of you. I want to show you what I see of you. I want you to see what I see. I want you to know you can stand completely open before someone, and not be found wanting. “Sounds pathetic,” he muttered.
“No,” Skywarp breathed, and Barricade realized he’d been speaking out loud. “Sounds beautiful.”
*****
“Ah,” they heard a voice say, and then the sound of approaching footsteps on the cerametal floor. “Reconciliation: also beautiful.” Barricade ducked his head to the side, embarrassed. Even blind, not wanting to be seen. He felt a hand reach behind his head, and another magnetic-field pull its tendrils away. His vid feed flickered back to life, giving him a—rather welcome—opticful of Skywarp’s upper chest. He could feel his spike repressurize just at the sight. It had been too long. Only a few solars, but….
“You’ve been here the whole time, haven’t you?” Skywarp groused.
“I was…supervising.”
“Supervising,” Skywarp’s eyes warmed up to fully-online red, locked pointedly at Starscream’s pelvic armor. “I’m sure you got nothing out of it.” Starscream at least had the decency to hide his hand behind his back.
“On the contrary, Skywarp. You know me better than that. Everything I do is entirely self-serving.”
“You do. But right now,” the bronze jet stretched showily, arms long over his head. “I shall merely enjoy a nice long recharge cycle free of worry about my Trine mate’s affaires du coeur.” Skywarp reached up for Starscream’s thigh.
“Maybe you won’t,” he challenged.
“Oh, I think rather that I will. Somehow, while you were…occupied sorting out your differences, SOMEONE,” he paused to preen, “overrode Barricade’s duty assignments. It appears that this is now his non-shift cycle.” Skywarp’s frown crumbled at the edges. “What an amazing coincidence.”
“Oh, it is no coincidence at all.” Starscream dipped to one knee petting Barricade on the head as he gave Skywarp a brief kiss. “You owe me,” he said, pushing back to his feet. “Both of you.”
Next: Prank
no subject
But yay! Barricade and Skywarp are working things out! Slowly... but getting there!
no subject
1. I suppose this is highly subjective but I just LOVE the hurt-comfort theme, and especially how it works with a sort-of threesome. Also, Barricade being a 'transfluid resceptacle' before... Love the angst too.
2. Your range and mastery of vocabulary is highly impressive. I read your fics with a dictionary. ;) like I said before, you write like you really know your stuff, and it shows in how you write the mechs' anatomies. Not just *that* bit of anatomy, but other parts like bits of plane and stuff.
3. But, sometimes the dialogue is a little unclear/hard to follow, especially when there are paragraphs of actions breaking up the dialogue, or you use 'he' a little too much.
4. Otherwise, this is an awesome fic AND I JUST CAN'T STOP READING @.@ (not good. I should be studying for upcoming exams but oh well.)
no subject
As for the dialogue being 'too' hard to follow because of action interrupting the flow, alas, that's my writing style. I'm sorry you don't care for it.
I assure you, there's worse, both in my writing and in the stuff I teach. The pronouns are a struggle, but I think that's true for anyone who writes in a world where everyone's male. It still seems to flow better than 'Barricade did X to Skywarp's Y so Skywarp could understand Barricade's Z.'
no subject
... Stuff you teach? *is curious* Which would be...? :3
I hope I didn't offend you in any way. :( if I did, I apologise.