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shadow_vector2010-03-02 07:27 am
Sky and Ground 2: A Productively Disruptive Meeting
Starscream slumped in his seat, his broad shoulders pressing against the hard material, trying his best to look sullen and dejected, fighting an immortal combat with the smirk that was twitching across his facial plating. Soundwave was pontificating next to him, at the head of the table, the pompous aft. Megatron had left him temporarily in charge of the Nemesis and Soundwave was…making a very big deal out of it. A very big, very boring, very wordy deal. Begging Starscream to do anything about it.
Starscream did nothing: the picture of obedience. His Trinemate, however….
*****
Skywarp curled his arms over the back of the chair, rubbing his cheek plates against the audio of a very surprised Barricade, who squirmed, Skywarp thought, adorably. He didn’t know quite what it was, but he found the little grounders completely irresistible. Especially this one. So easily freaked out. And so…enjoyable.
The other mechs to either side struggled to pay attention to Soundwave but… how could you not look? A big Seeker, running his barbed talons over the CIO’s chassis, all while Barricade struggled to show no reaction? Entertainment of a variety of flavors.
“You are,” Skywarp breathed, “so hot. I want to take you right here.”
Barricade’s optics flared, slightly alarmed. Here? In front of everyone? There was not a doubt in his processor that Skywarp would do it, too. Just throw him on the table, pin his wrists down, and take him. Oooooh, get that image out of your cortex! Meeting. Right. Meeting. Pay attention. Pay no attention to those black plated talons teasing under your grille, that outventing in your throat. “I-I can’t,” he managed.
“I know,” Skywarp said, his voice vibrating somewhere below Barricade’s audio. Somwhere, like his spike. “You are SO well-behaved. But I want to.” He licked the smaller mech’s audio, sliding his hands over Barricade’s thigh armor. Barricade in-vented, hard, his eyes flicking closed.
“Barricade,” Soundwave snapped. “Is that truly necessary? You are disrupting my meeting.”
Barricade bolted upright. “Sorry. Uh…I’m sorry. I just…what were we talking about?” A few snickers from the assembled ‘cons, but more than a few envious glances.
“We were discussing plans to improve operational efficiency.” Barricade snatched at his datapad, searching for the relevant slide.
“We can always improve morale,” Skywarp said, cattily, his talons teasing Barricade’s inner thigh’s exposed cabling. “I have a few ideas.” He licked Barricade’s audio.
“Skywarp, with all due respect, you are not a part of this meeting.”
“Soundwave,” Skywarp drawled, “With no respect at all, I have diplomatic access to any and all operations aboard the Nemesis. Including this meeting.” He ducked his head to tickle Barricade’s neck cabling. Soundwave stared, openmouthed at his audacity, as Barricade shivered, dropping his head back against Skywarp’s shoulder.
“Ahem,” Soundwave finally managed. “Well. Could you at least stop molesting my CIO?”
“Could I? Yes. Do I want to? No. Does HE want me to?” He murmured in Barricade’s audio, loud enough to be overheard: “What do you think, little spike? You want me to stop?” The talons raked a little harder at the thigh cabling, just at the threshold of pain but not over it. Barricade felt his spike lubricate.
“No?” he squeaked. Oh Primus no. The last thing he wanted was for Skywarp to stop. Still. Everyone was watching. He tried not to think of the spectacle he was providing for them, squirming and so-obviously aroused. Not that he thought any of them would do a better job resisting Skywarp’s advances. Not that he wanted Skywarp to try with someone else. He forced himself up, bending over his datapad. “I—uhh, regarding our operational efficiency, I think we…ohh!!” Skywarp had dropped his head between Barricade’s shoulders, his glossa teasing at the wing fairings behind his neck. “We are…,” he struggled onward, gamely, “operating at…acceptable efficiency rates….” His voice trailed off: Skywarp’s hands teased at his spike cover.
“Skywarp!” Soundwave snapped. “this is becoming disruptive. Please remove your hands and…anything else, from my CIO.”
Skywarp frowned, putting on a show of surrender. “See? Not even touching him.” He raised his hands up, innocently.
“Good.” Soundwave gave a warning glare to Skywarp, then Barricade. “now, if we can continue our examination of the third objective—“
“Nnnngggguuuhh!!” Barricade cried out. He looked down, panicked. Something was teasing at his valve cover. A long bronzy toe. He looked across the table. Starscream smirked at him, raising one snide eyebrow, turning showily to pay attention to Soundwave. He continued to tease Barricade with his extended foot.
“Barricade, is there a problem?” Soundwave was losing his infinite patience, and fast.
“No,” Barricade squirmed further upright, trying to remove himself from the range of Starscream’s toes. “No—no problem.”
“I hope not. These interruptions are becoming…interrupting.” Soundwave’s eyes glazed over as Barricade groaned writhing in his chair. The jet’s toe was working at manually retracting the valve cover. Who the hell had this much dexterity in their feet?
“I’m sorry! Sorry!” He gritted his denta over a gasp as Starscream successfully dislodged his valve cover. He pushed away. Whose decision had it been to bolt the fragging chairs to the deck? He half-stood, pressing against the back of the chair, trying desperately to pull himself out of the range of Starscream’s probing toes. Brawl, sitting next to him, was openly staring.
Starscream himself was the picture of innocence, frowning sternly at Barricade. “This meeting is of vital importance, Barricade,” he chastised, “Soundwave is attempting to disseminate some very important information.” All the while, he wiggled his toes menacingly between Barricade’s thighs. Barricade’s capacitor revved, half from desire, half from embarrassment. He was so turned on but…everyone was staring at him.
Brawl leaned over, whispering, staring at the wiggling toes. “Are you spiking the Seekers, Barricade?” He sounded surprised.
He froze. Sure, their estimation of him would shoot up—Barricade actually spiking anyone, much less the two of them—but theirs would sink. Poor taste. Not really his decision to make since he stood to lose nothing and they did.
“He is,” Skywarp purred behind him. “He’s fantastic. Don’t you think, Starscream?”
“I do not know. He wore me into recharge. And then I awoke and had to prepare for this fascinatingly elucidating meeting.” He turned wide, innocent optics to Soundwave. “To which we should pay our keenest attention,” he finished, primly.
Several mechs were staring openmouthed at Barricade. “Yes, well, thank you, Starscream,” Soundwave paused, as if stunned that those last three words came out of his vocalizer. Ever. “Now, the third objective?”
Barricade leaned forward, straddling the chair, bracing himself out of range of the bronze toes, resting his hands flat on the surface of the table. “Third objective, right. Crisis response efficiency,” he read off his datapad. “Uhhhh,” he risked a quick look down between his legs. Starscream wiggled his toes invitingly, as if to say, ‘hi!’. “We have a quarter cycle recall for on-duty intel. Signals intelligence is a problem: not capture but analysis. Analysis is already at or near maximum capacity. There will be a lag in sig int analysis of approximately a cycle and as a result—OOOF!” A hand pushed down at his shoulder, another stroking his side greedily.
“Primus,” Skywarp growled in his audio, “You are so hot when you talk technical.” Barricade felt the Seeker’s chassis hard on his back—the swell of the cockpit, the falling angles of the armor plates. He felt one of Skywarp’s thighs against the back of his legs, pushing him forward, splatted onto the table. The one hand pinned his shoulders down, while the other groped over his legs for his spike cover.
“Help?” he said, weakly, reaching one hand out to Starscream.
“I think you are managing adequately on your own, Barricade,” Starscream said, blandly. “Skywarp is merely commenting on the depth of your expertise of your field.”
Barricade appealed to Bombshock, seated right across the table. The tank shook his head. “I’ve got money on which of you is louder in overload.”
“Mechs!” Soundwave yelled, flailing his arms, his intercept wings fluttering. “Your attention! We are trying to have a productive meeting here!”
“You are trying,” Brawl snickered, snatching his datapad away as Skywarp climbed up onto the table on top of Barricade.
Barricade found himself flipped around, crashing hard upon the table. Datapads and input rods went flying at the impact. Skywarp caught both of his wrists in one hand and held them up over his head, giving Barricade an eyeful of his inner elbow servos as he bent lower and lower down Barricade’s twisting body.
“You do know,” Starscream said, pointedly, eyes solidly on his datapad, “how he enjoys it when you struggle.” Well, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t let himself be pounced on in front of everyone and not at least put up some kind of fight.
“Come on!” he yelled, “Please! This isn’t funny! This is really—oh! Oh my Priiiiiiiii—!!” He felt Skywarp’s mouth settle, warm and wet and eager, over his lubricated spike. Here. In front of everyone. The writhing stopped, replaced by small, sharp shudders in time with Skywarp’s glossa, teasing at the nodes of Barricade’s spike. Barricade gasped, barely daring to move. He tried to close his eyes, but they seemed glued on the large dark-armored Seeker’s head, the eyes half-lidded in contentment. He was…Skywarp was enjoying this. Skywarp caught his optic and winked. Barricade cried out as a spasm rippled through his frame and he overloaded into the jet’s mouth. He cringed, waiting, half fearfully for what came next. The Seeker couldn’t have intended this to go that far—didn’t he know what mechs thought of someone who sucked a spike to overload?
He didn’t think they even had an insult for someone who would suck a spike in front of the entire Decepticon leadership.
Skywarp gave the spike a few extra licks, swallowing delicately. Barricade’s spike had not retracted, he noticed as Skywarp finally released it from his mouth. Skywarp grinned at him. “My good little spike,” he growled, and lunged forward to kiss Barricade, his elbow banging into Barricade’s pinned shoulder. “Still want you,” he said, breaking the kiss, and straddling Barricade’s hips, sinking himself onto the still extended spike. He still pinned Barricade’s wrists with one arm, the other travelling down the smaller mech’s torso. He looked up at Soundwave, coolly. “Are we onto the fourth objective yet?” he asked, his thighs sliding over Barricade’s armor as he began working himself against the spike inside him.
Soundwave gaped, torn between outrage and…well, who knows what else with Soundwave. Speechless, watching the black jet please himself on Barricade’s spike. Skywarp’s ventilation came in loud, ragged bursts, thrusting through his air vents onto Barricade’s legs. Barricade twisted, causing Skywarp’s grip to tighten on his wrists. “No way, little spike,” Skywarp said. “Going to give me what I want.” His body rose and fell against Barricade’s.
“Oh!” the Seeker burst out, suddenly. He thrust forward on Barricade’s chassis three or four times. Barricade’s spike spun him into a sympathetic overload. He buried his cry in Skywarp’s exposed arm cables. His optics blurred from the intensity, his whole sensornet quivering, feeling every micron of Skywarp’s clutching, overloading valve against him, feeling the smooth warm slide of his transfluid against his spike. Skywarp smiled, sated, down at him. “Primus, I love your spike,” he said.
Beside him, Bombshock held out his hand for money. Soundwave began howling, something about disruptions and the brig and diplomatic immunity be damned and he was going to tell all of this to Megatron.
Starscream silenced him with one raised hand. “Soundwave, I am reluctant to do this, but I must criticize your leadership skills.” He waved the datapad. “I do not see this item on the agenda at all.”
Next: Gossip
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Also dayumn, this was both hot and very amusing. I should go read the rest of this story