shadow_vector | Sky and Ground 5: Overcome

Possibly the angstiest blowjob ever written.

Barricade shifted, slowly, cycling his optics to lowlight. Skywarp sprawled in deep recharge next to him, the hum of his systems quickly becoming one of the most soothing sounds Barricade could think of. The tingling pressure line between their EM fields had gotten fuzzier—no longer a sharp line of demarcation, he and I, but slowly blending into a he and I and a he-and-I. Possibly, possibly, one solar, to an ‘us’.

The late shift cycle had been…pleasantly exhausting. Parts he didn’t even remember. He presumed he simply dropped offline while Starscream and Skywarp continued to entertain each other. It had first terrified him—what they could do to him, unresisting. But a thought had bubbled up to his consciousness, slowly, that what they would do to him unconscious would most likely be more of what they did to him conscious. His only reaction to that notion was that he would miss out.

He felt…safe. An unaccustomed feeling. And more: Safe and trusted and…chosen. Skywarp owed him nothing, but gave him…everything that currently mattered in his life.

And he had…what to repay it with? What could he redeem this incredible gift of Skywarp’s choice, of his trust, of his confidences, with? Nothing. He had nothing to offer. It ate at him. Tortured him.

I will, he decided, overcome my limitations. I will. For him. I will make him feel, entirely unselfishly, what I feel. For him, about him, around him.

So he inched himself lower down the berth, where Skywarp’s interface hatch lay open. The spike had re-covered itself. But that was what he wanted. He would. He braced himself. Skywarp was worth getting over this.

He brushed his talons in a light circle around the edges of the spike cover, barely light enough to register. Then another circle, a bit more pressure. Skywarp’s bulk shifted above him: he made some soft sound in his vocalizer. Yes. More. This isn’t bad, is it? This is Skywarp. He is not forcing you.

A few more circles with his talons and the spike cover autoreleased, the half-pressurized spike poking out. Yes. You can do this. You want to do this. No one is making you. You can stop at any time. And no one will know any differently. Try. And if you fail, no one will know.

Except you.

He pushed that thought aside, roughly.

His glossa trembled as he touched it to the half-extended spike, tasting the too-familiar oil and metal of a spike. No. Skywarp’s. He licked his way up the spike. His hands shook, braced against the berth, as he fought a thousand memories of terror. No. Different. This was different. I want this. I WANT this.

He licked the spike again. Skywarp shifted, opening his legs. Barricade froze. He had to be in recharge. Please may he not catch me doing this. Failing at this. He stayed there a long moment, open-mouthed, barely daring to vent, waiting for some sign that Skywarp was online. Nothing.

He exvented with relief, the burst of hot air arousing the spike—it released a dollop of lubricant. This too was a too-familiar taste, but somehow it was different, already. Barricade’s capacitor surged in triumph. He could do this. He could. This was different. He could finally give something back to Skywarp.

He had to be sure. He took the spike in his mouth, carefully pushing the lubricant down the length of the spike, his glossa caressing the metal as if it were another glossa in his. One just willing to be and be adored, be caressed.

He shifted his position, his shoulder assemblies wearing from strain, keeping his mouth eager and hot on the spike. Skywarp shifted his hips again, rolling farther onto his back, and made a breathy moan, but that was all. Can still stop if it gets too much. Worst thing is he’ll wake up horny and…well, that’s not a bad thing at all.

Still, that was not the point. Not the issue. He began sucking gently at the spike, using his glossa to explore—not just stimulate, but to really explore, almost as much for his own sake, his own knowledge, than anything else—the complicated plates and cables and nodes of the spike. He heard Skywarp’s respiration pick up as the pace of his efforts sped up. Barricade could feel the overload building in the spike—something like a sense of pressure combined with an electrical charge, the clean odor of ozone filling his olfactory sensors.

The lubricant tasted sweet, he would swear to it. And the spike responded to him eagerly. And his own sensornet, even though that wasn’t the point, (he growled at himself), blazed with desire. Not a desire for spiking, but to feel this. Know it happen. Know he made it happen. A sweet sort of power mixed with desire.

Skywarp’s frame shuddered. “AhhhHHH!!” he cried out, just as Barricade felt the transfluid warm his mouth—a silvery-sweet testimony of his victory over his own fears. Of his ability to do this. Of his ability to please Skywarp. To do something unselfish. One-sided.

Skywarp swooped down and hauled Barricade up next to him, kissing him, one strong arm bracing behind Barricade’s head so he couldn’t pull away. As if he’d want to. He felt Skywarp’s glossa slide against his own, tasting his own transfluid and lubricant. Barricade had seen the two Seekers do this to each other and it had aroused him immensely. They’d done it to him, with him. And now. And now, he could. He could almost weep. But Skywarp might misunderstand.

He shuttered his eyes, concentrating all of his sensors on the feel of Skywarp’s body pulling Barricade against him, Skywarp’s mouth on his own. Yes. This. This was what he wanted.

One of the jet’s black armored hands slipped down between Barricade’s thighs. “Want me to?” he murmured against Barricade’s mouth.

No. The tide of desire Barricade felt was not that kind. It was different. It was powerful and sexual and sent electrical shimmers through his sensor net, but it wasn’t the kind of desire that wanted or even needed an overload. It wanted merely to stay in this long, sweet moment.

Barricade never said no to Skywarp. But this time he did. And Skywarp pulled his head away just enough to look him in both eyes, his lowlight-dimmed optics searching Barricade’s face. Seeing what?

Skywarp pulled Barricade back against him, with both arms. Barricade could feel the wet spike, barely pressurized, against his foot, but more important, larger, he felt a surge of something he could not name from the Seeker. “You,” Skywarp breathed. And that was all he said.

And all he needed to say

Next: Damaged