Prey

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG-13
Bayverse
Starscream/Barricade
Completely pointless fluff I wrote to cheer myself up, based on a prompt from merfilly on DW

“I can take you flying,” Starscream wheedled.  He leaned between Barricade and the monitor. 

“Don’t want to go flying,” Barricade said, trying to tilt himself to see around the jet’s broad backframe to watch his monitor.  “Got work.” You know, piloting the ship?  Sure, they were on Autopilot right now, but…still. He was on shift. Why go flying…when you flew the whole damn warship?

“Of course, but…you cannot work all the time.” Starscream tilted his optics, coyly.  “You would overwork yourself and that puts…an unfortunate strain on your processor.” 

Barricade cocked one of his optics. “So, it’s all your concern for my well-being.”

“Certainly. A good leader looks out for his troops.” 

Yeah, right.  Barricade kinda noticed Starscream hadn’t spent this kind of attention on anyone else in the bridge crew.  “Sweet of you to care.”

Starscream leaned in, resting one hand on the arm of Barricade’s chair. His EM field brushed against Barricade’s.  Barricade squirmed—it tickled.  “Oh, but I do, Barricade,” Starscream said, in open invitation.

Barricade flattened back against the chair.  Jet was kinda weirding him out.  “Yeah, yeah,” he blustered, trying to hide the excited quiver in his sensornet.  “Sure you do.”

“I…,” Starscream breathed, leaning in, his mouth brushing against Barricade’s crest, “do.” 

Barricade twitched.  Uh, wow.  His sensornet was prickling, excited.  No, Barricade. Do not buy it. Do not fall for it.  The klik you show interest, the hammer’s gonna come down, and the jet’s gonna start laughing.  Probably vidding this whole thing for later enjoyment.  Do not, do not dare, give him the satisfaction. 

“Fraggin’ pervert,” he muttered, shrinking down in his chair.  Seriously.  The jet was crowding him. 

“So…,” Starscream whispered, drawing a wandering trail over Barricade’s grille with one long talon, smirking as Barricade’s optics tracked it, wide with unrepressed pleasure.  “I…have…been…told.”  He leaned in on the last word, his glossa flicking out of his mouth to one of Barricade’s headlamps.

Barricade squeaked, his whole chassis shuddering.  His talons gripped over the armrests, metal screeching against metal. 

Starscream hovered over him for a moment, before pulling back, optics glowing with unfeigned desire.  Barricade squirmed under the hot gaze.  “Now,” Starscream said. “Tell me honestly, Barricade.  Do you not want me…at all?”

Barricade’s four optics darted in cardinal directions, trying to look everywhere but at the jet who had shifted to right in front of him, sitting on the console, one broad thigh to either side of Barricade’s chair.

“Kind of inappropriate, jet,” he evaded. 

“Inappropriate?” Starscream said the word as though the concept was entirely foreign.  It probably was. “But if I want you and you want me…what could be ‘inappropriate’ about that?”  His tilted optics blinked disingenuously. 

“Uh, chain of slaggin’ command?” 

Starscream snorted.  “Your scruples are adorable,” he said.  “But you will notice that I am not being unduly pressured by you.  So no one can claim that you are attempting to influence me.”

Barricade blinked, all four optics shuttering. What? How the…?  Wow. That sure was a unique interpretation of events.  “Uh, right,” he managed.  Right.  Being subtle wasn’t working. Time to be direct.  You know, while he still had some grasp of sanity that wasn’t entirely overwhelmed by lust. “Know what jet? I see through you.  No way you’d be interested in me.” There, he thought. Slapped that on the table.  Like to see the jet refute that. 

No wait, he actually kind of would.  He whimpered.

“No way?” Starscream murmured.  “You have your own…particular charms.”

Right.  Not buying it.  Barricade glared.  “Name one.”

A grin. “Fishing for compliments, are you?”  

Barricade stiffened. No. Not at all.  But…?

A chuff of laughter, warm air gusting over Barricade’s thighs.  “Your optics are adorable.”

“Standard issue,” he countered.

The grin widened. “You are determined to make me work for this, yes?  Fine.”  Starscream sat up, folding his arms over his chassis, considering. “Many mechs are intrigued by airframes.  That is also a ‘standard issue’ situation,” Starscream said, fluttering one wingflap over his shoulder.  Barricade’s optics flew to the motion.  It was pretty fraggin’ hot.  “But if you wish to hear something specific to you?  You recalcitrance is alluring.”

“Recalcitrance.” Uhhh, whatever that meant.  He hoped his voice covered his ignorance with a sufficient layer of sarcasm. 

“Like this,” Starscream said. He leaned in, further, flicking his glossa from between his wedge-shaped mouth plates. “I like it when my prey struggles,” he breathed. 

Barricade stiffened, but before he could come up with an outraged retort, his mouth was covered by the jet’s, Starscream’s glossa tingling its charge against his, his optics drifting wide and closed, one hand coming up in helpless surrender to a wall of desire. 

 

 

Comments

[linnet-melody.livejournal.com]

Mmmmm.... recalcitrance!

I like fluffy. Makes me feel all warm and gooey. You're excellent at making me melt! :D

[cmdrtekk.livejournal.com]

You always seem to do a great job of giving your characters "character" even in the short stuff.

Or maybe I have just read your stuff so much that I have pictures of them fully developed, yet with some flexibility to add or subtract personality pieces as needed to fit any given story? That's suppose to be a compliment by the way, so please take it as such. You've done great.

[sneere.livejournal.com]

...I've learned a new word today! :D

[ithilgwath.livejournal.com]

"I like it when my prey struggles,” he breathed.

*giggle* I totally have the mental image now of Starscream acting like my cat with a mouse--pin it, lick it a little bit, let it go, chase it, pounce, repeat.

heee, this was cute.