Last One Standing

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG-13
Bayverse
Starscream/Barricade
Robots kissing
Starscream and Barricade are goofing off.  Pointless fluff. 

Written for tf_rare_pairing  prompt Starscream/Barricade "last one standing" (note clever and eco-friendly recycling of prompt as title... *eyeroll*)  Also continuing this week's theme of 'canon? Screw that. I want to read cheeeeeeeeeeeez'.

 

 

“Just for the record,” Barricade said, “You do know how completely and utterly unfair this is?”

“Elaborate?”  Starscream handed over a cube of the fizzy pink Seeker-grade energon. “This seems entirely fair to me. If not balanced in your favor. After all, I let you have a weapon.”

“Because it’s fraggin’ hard to have a sniping match with one of these?”  Barricade deployed his spoke weapon. 

“Yes, well, military expediency should teach you how to improvise,” Starscream purred, leaning back against the high column of a chimney . These, he decided, were nice, the column snugging right in between his engine mounts.  And Barricade, he thought through the light haze of his slight overcharge, was also nice. In a sort of dysfunctional/psychotic way.  He watched the starlight glossing over Barricade’s chrome as the mech turned to face him, leaning the pulse rifle against the low lip of the roof. 

“Was talking about mass and frame requirements,” Barricade snapped, tapping the cube of energon with one silver talon, sheathing his weapon with a flick of his wrist.  “This hits me way harder than it hits you.”

Starscream gave a pointed frown. “Are you not up to the challenge?”  He tsked. 

Barricade snarled at him, draining the cube, tossing it at Starscream’s head with a defiant look. The bronze jet caught it easily in one hand. “Right,” Barricade said. “What’s my target?”

Starscream leaned forward, resting one taloned hand on the roof’s lip. “The grey building, third window from the left, I think we are up to.” He could feel Barricade’s hot glance travel up from his barbed hand.  Poor little Barricade. So obvious in his desire.  Starscream wouldn’t change a thing about the little mech.  Least of all the way he bridled when Starscream added, “Unless you’d like to try something…easier?” 

Barricade muttered, hefting the pulse rifle, optics fixed on the targeted window.  The gun swung up, the front sight lining up almost effortlessly in the focus of Barricade’s four optics and then gave the dull crack of a report, the rifle pushing back against Barricade’s pauldron.  The window shattered. 

“Ha,” Barricade said.  “Going to have to try harder, jet.” 

Starscream smirked. “Will I?”  He pushed to his feet, resisting the urge to nip one of the drivetrain tires, and aimed his left arm at the fourth window. 

“Ahem,” Barricade said. “Forgetting something?”  He held up a cube.  Starscream gave a showy sigh, as if he had been caught out, and took it. 

“Very well,” he said.

“Want it to be fair,” Barricade reminded him. Well, of course it was. That was the whole point.  As was…this.  Starscream lined up his shot, then lifted it two degrees and fired.  The round burst a grey puff of plasbrick chips off the far building’s wall.

“Missed,” Barricade said, his mouth curving into a grin.

“Oh, so I did,” Starscream said blandly. “So, what is my penalty?”  He forced the grin from his face. 

“Penalty?” Barricade’s optics lit up, the smaller pair glittering evilly.  “Want to touch your wings.”

Starscream turned quickly, so that Barricade couldn’t see the delicious glee on his face. “It is only fair,” he murmured, humbly, lowering himself to the ground, his back to the smaller mech. 

He stilled himself as he felt the cool small talons explore the folded flaps of his wings, teasing down the edges, tracing the hinging.  “You may,” he managed, tightly, “pull them open.”  He felt a distinctly gratifying gust of nervous air against his turbines, as the hands tugged gently on his folded right wing assembly, the hinges releasing easily. The talons trembled against the plates for a long moment, stroking  up the length of the unfolded wing panels. 

The armor was snapped back into position abruptly.  “Uh, yeah,” Barricade said, unsteadily, stepping away.  Starscream stifled a snicker.  Poor little grounder. Torn between his pride and desire.  “My turn, right?”

“Correct.”  Starscream managed to compose himself, force down the delicious rush of desire from the grounder’s delicate touch, and his own arousal at Barricade’s nervous response, by the time Barricade had lined up for his next shot, his next empty cube beside his feet.  Crack. The window burst with clean precision.  Barricade would not let himself lose, even in this.  It was…endearing. Even as Barricade wobbled unsteadily to put the rifle down.  His optics blazed, triumphantly.

“Well,” Starscream said, pushing to his feet, “I shall have to concentrate this round, shall I not?”

“Concentrated last round,” Barricade muttered, “crummy excuse.”

Starscream inclined his head, so Barricade could see the insult rolling off his back.  He drained his cube, flicking his distal thumb in the air in a delicate gesture.  He allowed himself to lurch on his feet, saw the wicked hopeful glint in Barricade’s optics.  Oh, Barricade, he thought. So afraid I shall have to disappoint you.  All for your benefit, of course. 

His targeting reticle locked onto the next window.  He let his arm swing wildly, popping off a shot that seemed random.  Barricade gave a chortle, which sputtered when the window’s plasglass shattered.  “Oh wonderful!” Starscream gushed. “I did not think I would make that shot.” 

Barricade grumbled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, jet.”  He slugged his next cube grimly, entirely focused on the contest.  He counted to the next target, wobbled. Counted again. Starscream could hear his optics whirring to focus.  As he brought the gun up, Starscream moved as if to sit down, bumping Barricade’s hip with his leg’s forward bend. 

Barricade cursed: the shot went wide.  So wide it didn’t even nick the building.  He rounded on Starscream, who had settled on his aft, looking as innocent as he could muster. He’d had…aeons of practice. 

“You…missed!” Starscream even managed to sound stunned.

“Cheating!” Barricade howled. 

“It was an accident.”

“Get a do-over,” Barricade snapped.

“No ‘do-overs’, Barricade,” Starscream said.  “We did not specify do-overs in our rules or else I would have gotten one.”

“Based on what?” 

“There was a crossbreeze.”

Barricade glared at him, as if glitching out on the complete inanity of the jet’s claim.  Or, Starscream rather thought, trying to get the statement to make sense through his high-grade buzzed processor.

“Now, I get to decide a penalty, yes?”

“Frag yourself.”

“Now, now, Barricade.  You may choose the penalty when YOU win.  This is my turn.”  He tilted his head, evilly. “However, that is perhaps not a bad suggestion.”

Barricade froze as if all the energon had gone icy and hard. “You wouldn’t.”

Starscream let the question hang between them, fighting laughing. “Perhaps not this time.  Instead, I think you should just…kiss me.”

Barricade’s whole frame jerked before he drew himself up, as though steeling himself.   “Uh…yeah. Okay.”  His talons bunched, rubbing together nervously. 

He stepped in, Starscream helpfully tipping his head down.  He stared at Starscream’s face for a long moment.  Starscream’s cheek-chevrons quirked in a grin. “Would you require some more energon to build your courage, Barricade?” he murmured.

Barricade gave a low growl, the vibrations close enough for Starscream to feel.  He leaned in.  Stopped, hesitating.  Starscream could smell the high grade, could practically feel the grounder’s desire like a tingling field around him.  The overcharge lowered his aloofness, made him so, painfully, preciously easy to read.  “Supposed to close your optics,”  Barricade grumbled.

Starscream obediently shuttered his tilted optics, to feel Barricade overbalance on his overcharged legs, and bump his mouth gently against Starscream’s lower mouth projection.  Barricade tried to pull back, but a goading soft laugh from Starscream’s vocalizer made him pause, lean in further.  Starscream opened his mouth, letting his glossa feather over Barricade’s dentae.  Barricade whimpered, his  own glossa darting out, daring to brush Starscream’s. 

Starscream gave a soft, clicking, contented purr. Barricade stiffened, jerking away. “’Ny more’n that and you’re paying, jet.”

Starscream could not resist. “I shall ask you to forward me the table of your going rates.”  It was worth it for the hot confusion in the grounder’s face.  He relented…a bit. “It is my turn, yes?”

“Yes,” Barricade said, stepping back, shifting loosely on his overcharged limbs. Plotting, obviously, mischief.  Starscream would expect nothing less.  Starscream rose to his feet again, taking his cube. He watched Barricade over the cube’s rim as he sipped it.  The grounder practically trembled with want.  Which had predictable results upon Starscream’s ego. The Seeker put the cube down, with a final, flicking lick at his mouth, noting Barricade’s optics hot with lust, tracking the motion.  Oh, so close, little Barricade, he thought.  If only there were a way to get you to admit what you really want. 

Well, with Barricade, direct confrontation was often an option.

“I realize,” Starscream said, making a show of lurching toward his shooting position, “That you only want me to miss so that you can demand to interface with me.”  He grinned openly at the look of mortification on the grounder’s face. And transparency.  Starscream was sorely tempted to miss his shot again.

Barricade spluttered.  “D-do not!” His optics seemed to have trouble tracking Starscream as the jet adjusted his firing position. 

“Shame,” Starscream murmured. “Do you think that is the only way you could make that happen?” He tilted his head, intent and curious.  Barricade’s confusion and embarrassment and arousal were like warm fuel to his own desire’s flame. 

Barricade ground his mouthplates together. “Take…your…shot,” he said tightly. 

“Oh this?” Starscream whirled, throwing his arm out, one round sailing from his forearm gun to puncture centermass in the next window.  He smirked at the crestfallen expression on Barricade’s face, resisting the urge to simply pounce on the little grounder.  He did not imagine Barricade would fight him…too hard.  Fight himself, yes.  Fight Starscream? No.  He compromised, letting the overcharge pull him down, dropping him on one knee, closer to Barricade.  He could feel the optics travel slowly, sensuously up his frame, lingering over the amber swell of the cockpit, the forced air intakes, and then up to Starscream’s face.

“How do we decide who wins this?” he questioned, gently, teasingly.  Barricade met his optics for a long moment, before lurching away for the energon.

“Last one standing,” Barricade muttered.  He paused to drink his cube, tilting back to drain it.  He stumbled backwards, and would have fallen, had not Starscream lunged forward, catching him around the chassis. 

“Indeed?” Starscream looked down at the smaller mech, his face less than a hand’s span away.  “Then perhaps I should let you fall.”  He flicked his hands, Barricade’s weight in his grasp slewing wildly.  Barricade’s talons dug into Starscream’s arms reflexively.  Barricade tilted his face up to Starscream’s, his unsteady vents hot against the jet’s chassis, his leg servos trembling. 

“Yeah,” he said, as if not trusting himself to say anything more.  He shuttered his optics, tipping his chin up, mouth surrendering, seeking Starscream’s. 



 

Comments

[katsuko]

Oh, dear god, I'm melting from the cute over here! I love it ♥

Poor Barricade, thinking he's being all sneaky and devious, while Starscream knows what's what and is being sneaky and devious to guarantee that they both enjoy the outcome. So terribly adorable!

And, oddly, still something I could almost see in canon. I might need my head examined O.o

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

They are decepticons, after all. Sneaky and devious? You betcha!

^___^ glad you liked.

[xxsomeoneelsexx.livejournal.com]

hnnnnNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH

I enjoyed this far too much. Oh Starscream you devious thing I love you. Barricade you attempting-to-be-devious thing I love you also. :D

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Poor Barricade doesn't quite know how to handle his energon. Or a horny jet. :P

Glad you liked it!

[kamiraptor.livejournal.com]

That... was too cute for words. ^_^ Barricade is just being so cute when he's drunk and trying to be aloof, and Starscream is deviously cute and cutely letting Barricade get away with it.

I'm sorry I'm using "cute" so much but you're right! This is fluff and it makes me feel fluffy! X3

Very good mood-upper after LSotW, yes. I got to the end of issue 5 and saw that "THE END" box and was all, "wait what?!" Completely doesn't help that for some reason I thought there was going to be one more issue, so it was kind of abrupt and... unfulfilling. But then, I don't imagine a last stand of any sort gets that feeling.

So, yeah, thank you for writing cheer-up fic!!!!!

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

The end of Last Stand felt rushed to me, too. I kind of liked parts of it, but...meh. Overlord deserved better. That was lame.

(And these two are painfully cute. In an evil Decepticon kind of way.) XDDD

[kyra-neko-rei.livejournal.com]

Awww, so lovely. And so wonderful with the descriptions, it's all hot-making.

[ithilgwath.livejournal.com]

oo. that was yummy. and adorable. XD