Hurricane

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

NC-17
Bayverse
Blackout/Barricade
sticky

Written for tf_rare_pairing  prompt: Blackout/Barricade "Well this shocking.." I think there's a verb missing in there or something, but, whatever.  A chance to write Blackout/Barricade smut? I'm so there. Yes, because the prompt posted TODAY. That's how ON I am. :P 

God I need a Blackout/Barricade Icon.

 

Barricade answered the locator ping, a little perplexed.  For one thing, op-parameters of this mission didn’t require him to rendezvous with Blackout until later.  And he was pretty sure he’d have heard if operational security had been compromised and they had a new pullout window.  But Blackout technically outranked him, and he was airborne which meant the electrical discharge of the thunderstorm that was tearing through the area maybe got him better comm.

Second, the coordinates Blackout pinged back were…weird.  On top of a parking garage? Kinda blowing that whole ‘robots in disguise’ thing, wasn’t it?  Something big must have gone down to blow that consideration that far to the four winds.

Third, this was not exactly traveling weather. Slaggin’ hurricane, the locals called it.  Winds high enough that had Barricade been made of lightweight human materials, he’d have been blown off the road, rain so hard even his tires almost hydroplaned in the roadwash.  Once or twice he’d had to roll through flooded streets so deep only his lightbar stayed above water, feeling the new currents of water suck him sideways.  Streets were obstacle courses of flying debris—garbage pails and bits of plywood and corrugated sheet metal from a nearby construction site flung themselves in his path, bouncing on his hood.  And the rain fell like bullets, lashing at him almost hard enough to ding his armor. 

 Barricade rolled toward the location, dodging one last business sign that strew sparks and broken glass on him as the winds punched through it, before entering the relative shelter of the parking garage’s solid structure.  The wind still howled through the open construct, the concrete flooring rocking and shuddering under his tires as he made the slow angular spiral up to the open roof level. 

Yeah, one thing? No one was out in this weather.  Only two or three cars hunched on the open plain of the garage, locked up tight, looking somehow miserable under the lashing rain and wind.  Windows on all sides were blank and dark, buttoned up tight against the storm, many of them with masking tape X’s on them, like some kind of primitive charm to the storm to go away.

Barricade pushed up, cutting his lights, staring into the sky that flung rain at him like knives.  No chance of hearing the copter’s approach. Or seeing. He hit comm. //Location?// He tried to sound more impatient than worried.  No slaggin’ way the copter should be flying in this.

//Inbound. Seventeen kliks.//

He waited, and sure enough, Blackout’s running lights suddenly materialized out of the tearing storm, coming in low, almost at the building level itself.  Barricade stepped back as the copter landed, jumping as a bolt of lightning tore across the sky, sending light and current through the air.  He watched the copter slow his rotors, the slight judder as they locked back, the way the storm winds rippled them.  Barricade wondered how that felt.  He had nothing to compare them with.  The rumor was, of course, that rotors were exquisitely sensitive. He’d never had the courage to ask. Much less, you know, try. 

“New orders?” he said, distracting himself from that entirely inappropriate train of thought.  Yeah, middle of a hellstorm and you’re thinking about ‘facing the copter.  That’s…perfectly normal. 

Blackout pushed back himself, shaking his head. “No.”

A flash of irritation, mirrored by another burst of lightning.  “Then why’d you drag me all the way out here? In this weather?”

Blackout grinned, the wedge of his mouth widening. “Yeah. Exactly.  In this weather.”

“What the—whoa!” Barricade was dropped heavily on his aft as the copter lunged at him, mouth aggressive against his. What’s gotten into him? Barricade thought. And then decided that the only reason he’d care was so that he could make it happen again.  It might not have anything to do with their slaggin’ mission, but copter-initiated interfacing was in its own category. As in the ‘any-fraggin’-time’ category. He returned the kiss, his own hands eager over Blackout’s shoulders, arcing his spinal cabling to press his body around Blackout’s larger frame.  Mission? What mission?  This was copter. 

Blackout’s EM field was charged, almost palpable to Barricade’s talons, his armor slick with rain.  Barricade’s systems hummed online in response, feeling the EM almost as a tingling pressure. 

Blackout broke the kiss in stages, pinching Barricade’s seeking glossa in the wedge of his mouth teasingly.  “Want to show you something,” he said, and his optics were wide and open with desire.

“This better be interfacing-related,” Barricade grumbled.  “Fraggin’ bad strategy otherwise.” He let his hands drift over Blackout’s shoulder mounted generators, his thumbs teasing along some exposed lines. 

“Fraggin’ fantastic strategy,” Blackout retorted.  He pulled one arm free from Barricade’s talons, reaching down to his interface hatch.  “Lightning.” 

“What?”

Blackout grinned,  pausing to give a gentle kiss to Barricade’s forehead finials as he shifted his bulk upward, his hand moving next to Barricade’s interface hatch.  “You’ll see.” 

Barricade certainly wanted to.  Since interfacing definitely appeared on the agenda.  He tilted his pelvic frame up, into the copter’s still-shy touches. 

Blackout looked down. “This only works this way, I think.” His thumb traced Barricade’s valve cover, a polite request for admission.  Frag. Barricade had had those battered through.  Like he’d turn away someone who asked. Especially not Blackout.  He released the cover, curious, aroused. 

Blackout shifted his weight and seated his spike in Barricade’s valve. Barricade moaned, softly, into Blackout’s chest armor, feeling the slide of lubricant in his valve, already prickling against his pick up nodes.  He waited for the copter to move at the slow, easy pace Blackout had used other times.  Blackout didn’t—merely wriggled his pelvic frame, seating the spike more solidly in the valve.  Barricade’s valve cinched down, gave a hinting sort of ripple.  Nothing.  No movement. This, Barricade thought, sucked. 

“No one likes a tease,” he muttered.

“Not teasing,” Blackout said. “Wait.”  He fanned his rotors. 

Barricade didn’t really have a choice—the copter’s weight had him more or less pinned and his own lust, fired on already, had him stuck in another way. He did not want that spike to leave his valve.  He squirmed in frustration.  Blackout chuckled.  “Hot little thing, aren’t you?”

“Teasing that way sucks, too,” Barricade snapped.  If he couldn’t feel, you know, for himself how aroused Blackout was from the high pressure of the spike in his valve, the periodic pushes of lubricant, he’d think Blackout was up to some horrible and completely unfunny trick. 

“Impatient,” Blackout said, sententiously. “Good things come to those who wait.” 

Barricade was fomenting a retort when the sky seemed to tear itself apart, lightning stabbing blue-white across the sky…and right into Blackout’s fanned rotors. And.

Oh.

PRIMUS.

Their bodies convulsed together, the electrical charge tearing through them both, mixing their systems, anodes crackling with excess charge.  Blackout’s interface snapped to overload, sparking through the transfluid it burst into Barricade’s valve. Barricade’s vision blanked white, then blue, then fuzzed slowly back online.  Static, like St Elmo’s Fire, rippled across the copter’s chassis  in front of his face.  He nuzzled it, feeling the prickling spread through his sensornet. He dropped his head back, his entire system throbbing with overload. 

“Yeah?” Blackout asked. His voice was strangely proud, and Barricade realized the copter must have thought of this from taking an earlier strike and wanted to share it.  With Barricade.  Oh, frag.  Barricade shivered at the thought. 

“Frag yes,” Barricade said.  He nuzzled against the blue charge still shimmering over Blackout’s armor, his talons tracing lines through it. He grinned, gratified, as Blackout gave a pleasurable sigh.

Blackout pushed back, both of them whimpering reluctantly as the spike left the valve.  “I think I spike you too much,” he said, quietly, watching the silver fluid seep into silver rivers in the rain puddled  pavement. Barricade gave an inward wince.  Yeah, his valve was not so pretty. Dinged and dented and bent from a few too many times it had been forced.  It didn’t bother him, really—after all, he’d had the whole Show and Tell and Why Don’t You Try For Yourself in his work cube that once, but…suddenly it seemed like a reminder of a lot of bad times.  Which he did not want to remember right now.  Now all he wanted was to cling onto this good time, and the small handful of other ones he’d had, and pretend nothing else existed. 

 “Think you worry too much about stupid stuff, copter,” Barricade said, irritated, sitting up, tucking his valve out of view. 

“It’s just that, you know. Spiking’s kind of a power/dominance thing.  And I don’t want you to think of me, you know, doing that, uhhh, that way. Or that that’s why. And…stuff.” Blackout propped on one elbow, rain and wind whistling around him.  The rain scoured against Barricade.

I don’t, Barricade thought.  And moments like this are exactly why.  But…frag if he’d get this maudlin. This weak.  Show someone your weakness and they’ll claw at it, turn a small scratch into a suppurating wound.  “Whatever, copter,”  he said, trying to sound properly cheeky and dismissive.  He tilted his head, optics split between the ravaging sky and Blackout. “Hey.  You sure it only works that one way, that lightning thing?”

Blackout grinned, droplets of rain runnelling off his cheekplates.  “One way to find out.” 



Comments

[ultharkitty.livejournal.com]

So cute!

Yay for hot copter action! And for inventive interfacing :D

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

Yay for copters! :P Apparently copters have high sex drives (once awoken).

Glad you liked it!