Barricade Plays Cupid
Feb. 27th, 2010 08:25 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
niyazi-a.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
shadow_vectorVerse: Bayverse
Method: Sticky pnp
Rating; NC-17
Cracky
This, Barricade thought, is my good karma for the next entire orbital cycle. I deserve sainthood for this. All right, he decided, more honestly, just did this so I don’t have to hear the damn copter mooning over the fraggin’ jet all the time. ‘Oh did you see how he flew that mission,’ ‘Oh, I wish I had ailerons like that.’ Ailerons. Seriously. It was enough to drive a decent bot insane. And Barricade had no pretense that he started out ‘decent’.
His subtle hints had been too subtle for the damn jet to figure out. Then again, jet didn’t normally figure anything out about interfacing til he’d been thrown against a wall. Or three. Kind of slow on the uptake there. The two of them were a right pair. Thank Primus they couldn’t replicate. World would be plunged knee deep into idiocy.
Still, thanks to his powers of…persuasion, he’d finally gotten it through the thick alloy that comprised the jet’s fraggin’ skull that maybe, just possibly, Blackout had the hots for him. And it had only taken a cycle, one dented bulkhead, and the jet quivering in overload to do it, too. Masterful negotiator I am, Barricade congratulated himself. Convincing and enjoyable.
Of course he’d had to suggest a believable scenario, since the damn jet still didn’t believe him—seems nothing could overcome his paranoia that he was being secretly made a fool of. Barricade wasn’t much for the romance himself, so he’d come up a little short here. Still, gave the jet a solid way out if he needed one.
And, it didn’t hurt that Barricade had the whole maintenance bay wired. As much work as he’d put into this? He was going to enjoy it.
*****
Blackout lifted up one of his feet, flexing it experimentally. Damn Earth sand got into everything. Took forever to hose out, and then a liberal dose of exterior lubricant. The toes flexed and curled easily. There, that felt better. Next up, his tail rotor. He reached behind him for it, stowed against the small of his back. His elbow bumped into something.
“Starscream!” he said, nearly dropping the rotor in surprise. How long had he been there? Why was…why was the jet just looking at him…like…that?
“Blackout,” the jet replied. “I…. Ah. I see you are doing self-maintenance. That is good.”
In his control room, Barricade slapped his forehead into his palm.
“Yeah. Damn sand.” Blackout sat, his tail rotor loosely held in his hand, looking (Barricade thought) like a slack-jawed moron. If this is what love looked like, love looked stupid.
Okay, Barricade thought. It’s hard to turn this conversation sexy, but they could at least try. Primus. Idiots. I may need a plan B. What the hell could be plan B? Overpulse them and double connect them while they’re unconscious?
“Sand is irritating,” Starscream said, too quickly. “I was wondering, because of your lift mechanism, do you get any…here?” He brushed a talon against the copter’s main rotor mount. He snatched his hand back when Blackout quivered, adding, hastily, “Because I have a different mechanism that has no wash.”
One step forward, two steps in full-scale retreat. Still, points to the jet for trying. He didn’t have a lot of experience hitting on anyone. Normally the other way around. If Blackout wasn’t so damned shy….
“Get some,” Blackout said, distantly, “during landings from kickup.” One of his rotors flicked reflexively back towards the jet, enticing him to touch it again. Blackout’s eyes drifted down from the jet’s face to his hand.
“Ah,” said the jet. His time to look stupid, and (Barricade decided) he took full advantage.
“Uh, Starscream?” Blackout managed, finally, his thumb idly spinning his tail rotor, “Can I, uh, help you with anything?”
“Help me?” the jet squeaked.
Dammit, Blackout, Barricade thought. Just throw him against the wall already. I told you how to do this. But nooooooo, the fraggin’ copter didn’t want to hurt Starscream. Right. Like that was even possible.
“I mean, you here for self-maintenance, too, right?”
The jet looked flatfooted. “Yes!” he said, a little too loudly. “Now is the time for self-maintenance. I shall do some.” Starscream sat down next to Blackout.
Barricade banged his head, hard, against his console. These had to be the worst two robots ever. Well, at least Starscream sat right next to the copter. A little obvious, but neither of them seemed adept at reading subtle cues. Unsubtle might have to do. And overpulsing them was starting to look like a distinct possibility.
“Coolant?” the copter offered, pulling the coolant hose between them, politely. Would be adorably cute if it wasn’t so painfully dorky.
“Do you know something, Blackout?” Barricade’s four eyes snapped up. Something about the tone of Starscream’s voice that didn’t fit. Jet sounded almost confident. In the circumstances, that had to be a bad thing. “Barricade was telling me the most ridiculous thing about you the other solar.”
Barricade snarled at the monitor. I am going, he thought, to strangle that fraggin’ jet. His fingers hovered over the comm. What would he say? Did it matter as long as it interrupted this painful spectacle? Was the jet that bound on embarrassing himself he’d become a self-fulfilling prophecy?
“He—he did?” Blackout squeaked. “Uh, what did he say? About me?” He nervously began tugging on his tail rotor’s small blades.
“He said,” Starscream bent over to attach a drain to his coolant line. Blackout’s free hand hovered, shyly over the jet’s exposed back. Daring himself to touch one of the engines. As the jet straightened up, the copter snatched his hand back. “He said that you desired to interface with me.”
“Oh.” The copter’s face fell. “What’s so ridiculous about that?” he asked, his voice small.
“Well. I mean….” Starscream looked at the copter’s face. Something, SOMETHING, got through to him. His own expression changed, suddenly. “Nothing,” he said, softly. “Nothing ridiculous about it at all.”
“Starscream?” Blackout placed his tail rotor on the floor, turning to the jet.
“Yes?” They stared at each other’s faces for a long moment. Even from his monitors, Barricade could see Blackout’s eyes spiral open.
Barricade sat up. They were actually going to do it! After all of this, this could be the highlight of his career—getting these two clueless dorks to interface. Sad thought perhaps, but sadder that they needed this kind of intervention.
“Uh, what do you think about Barricade?”
Barricade growled. Which one, he thought tightly, do I offline first? These two wouldn’t know how to interface if you gave them the fraggin’ manual and did a step-by-step countoff. And there were only two fraggin’ STEPS!
Starscream blinked at Blackout’s sudden change of conversation. Blackout, or, as Barricade secretly redubbed him, ‘the Spineless Wonder’, shrank back against his bench, aware he’d blown it. “I suppose that Barricade is competent,”
“Yeah,” Blackout said, miserably, “competent.”
Barricade was feeling anything but competent. These two idiots brought new meaning to fool-proof. They could screw up anything. This…wasn’t….that…hard!
The jet bent down again, this time to grab a hose to clean his own feet. Blackout looked down at his tail rotor, then up at the ceiling, as if gathering his courage. He risked—Barricade almost fainted from surprise—a touch at one of Starscream’s engines. The jet gasped, stiffening.
“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Blackout said, snatching his hand back. “Didn’t know that hurt.”
“It did not…hurt,” Starscream said. “Why did you touch me?”
He touched you, Barricade wanted to shriek at the monitor, because he wants to fuck you!
“Oh, you had, you know, some, you know, gunk in the mount.”
“Do I?” He turned his back to the copter. “Is it gone? Can you check?”
Blackout, Barricade thought. If you blow this, I will never speak to you again. He couldn’t tell if the jet were finally catching on to the whole seduction thing and giving the copter a chance to touch him, but, what the hell. It was an opportunity. And Blackout better not waste it. He seethed at Blackout through the monitor.
“Yeah, uh…sure.” Blackout half turned on the bench. His large hands trembled, but he managed—to Barricade’s surprise—to touch the jet without falling over. He kept his hands strictly on mission, running over both engines carefully, testing the mounts and the thruster assembly. The jet’s ventilation picked up appreciably. Blackout risked brushing one of his forced-air ducts. Starscream half-swallowed something that sounded like ‘meep.’
Meep? What kind of freaky sound was that? Barricade shook his head. Still, whether the jet had done it consciously or not, he was getting into what Barricade considered the proper spirit.
“I do not,” the jet said, shakily, “think that I have any gunk there.”
“Want me to—“ the copter cut himself off. Barricade could read his stupid little transparent mind. Helped that his mind was low-wattage. He’d started to ask if he wanted him to stop—but didn’t want the jet to say ‘yes.’ Blackout’s hand suddenly, boldly, grabbed the jet by his rib strut. Starscream gasped, turning his head, his expression some place between surprise and desire. Finally realizing, Barricade thought, that I wasn’t lying to him.
“Blackout?” the jet asked, his ventilation vibrating his chassis. “Do you want to--?” Whatever he was going to ask, the copter finally got the good sense to cover with his mouth, pulling the jet into a kiss. Starscream’s one hand dug hard into the bench, his other coming around to the copter’s face.
Blackout rose to his feet, twisting to clear the jet’s broad shoulders, still locked in a kiss. Starscream made that stupid ‘meep’ sound again, his hands reaching to stroke the copter’s long rotors. Blackout shuddered, and yanked the jet against him, hard.
“I am not,” the jet said, “skilled at this part,” Truer words never spoken, Barricade thought. Still, it was kind of sweet—in a stupid, clueless, painfully dorky way, to watch the two of them fumbling around. Starscream really was useless at this unless he was being ordered around.
Blackout made a soft laugh. “Not so good at it either.”
“Tell me what you want,” the jet whispered, so softly that Barricade’s audio pickups almost didn’t catch it. He stroked the rotor blades gently. Blackout made a sound halfway between a groan and a growl—still, Barricade thought, miles above ‘meep’—nuzzling against the jet’s throat. He, at least, was tall enough to do that. “Want you,” he said.
Sweet sentiment, Barricade thought, but let’s get to the good stuff, okay? Certain intel bot’s got other things to do today.
Starscream’s long-fingered hands drifted to Blackout’s interface hatch. Blackout twitched, but when Starscream pulled his hand back, grabbed the hand and replaced it, firmly. Starscream opened the hatch, pulling out the copter’s module.
Careful now, Barricade thought. No good to show you’ve had that much practice you can do it blind. Blackout didn’t either notice or seem to mind. He shuddered as the jet squeezed at his module. Barricade could see the ready lights blinking an adamant green. Yeah, thing had probably been pinging him since he first turned and saw the jet with him.
Starscream pulled his torso away, slightly, reaching for his own access hatch. He looked up, concerned. “Yes?”
“Yes, dammit,” Blackout said, for once echoing Barricade’s sentiment. Starscream whimpered as he attached Blackout’s module to his port, his eyes and breath fluttering simultaneously. He leaned on the copter as if his legs were no longer able to support him. Blackout lifted him bodily—he was the stronger of the two, and lowered him to the floor, his own hand getting the jet’s module.
“Yes?” he asked, half-teasingly. He knew the answer would be yes—no reason Starscream wouldn’t want to double-connect. Be painful as the Pit itself if he didn’t. Sure, Barricade thought. All the guts now—now that it’s actually happening. Where was some of this boldness 10 kliks ago?
“Yes,” the jet breathed. “If you want.”
Blackout’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said, firmly, tilting the jet’s chin up to him. “If you want.”
“Yes,” Starscream murmured, his ventilation coming in slow throbs that matched the copter’s datastream.
“Yes, what?”
The jet’s eyes lidded open. “Yes, my lord…?” he said, unsure. Barricade winced. A little too much information, right now.
The copter growled. “No. Yes, you want me?” His eyes were hard.
“I want you. Yes.” The jet ducked his head, as if embarrassed by the admission.
“Better,” the copter said, and connected the jet’s module to his own port. His turn to give a groaning sigh. The jet pulled him into a kiss, their legs tangling in the coolant line. Blackout, Barricade noticed, was a noisy one. He moaned in rhythm, louder and louder, into the jet’s shoulder assembly, finally crying out as he overloaded, collapsing hard against the jet. The jet overloaded more quietly, merely shuddering through his entire frame, his eyes fixed, for some reason Barricade couldn’t figure, on Blackout’s face.
After a long moment, Blackout stirred. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning his head, trying to disconnect his module without looking. The jet sat up, covering the copter’s fumbling hand with his own.
“Sorry for what, Blackout?” He unplugged the copter’s module, gently.
“Didn’t mean to…you know…take advantage of you.” Blackout took his module back, looking at it in his hands a little sadly. As if it had disappointed him. Damn jet didn’t look disappointed.
Does he LOOK taken-advantage of? Barricade wanted to shout at his monitor. Does he look like he’s suffered at all? Damn jet looked pretty fraggin’ sated if you asked Barricade—eyes half-lidded, movements slow and languorous.
“You did not,” Starscream said. He tilted his head, suddenly, in some kind of realization. “Blackout? Was that—was that your first time?”
“My first—what? No. No way. Not my first time. Don’t be ridiculous. No.” Blackout clumsily stowed his module, his fingers tangling in the jet’s connector cables. The jet squirmed, but his eyes were hot on Blackout.
“It was. Do not deny it, Blackout. You are an unskilled liar.”
“What makes you say that?” the copter said, nervously.
“Barricade informed me once that whenever someone says ‘do not be ridiculous’ they are lying.”
“Gonna kill that fraggin’ bot,” Blackout muttered. Barricade felt distinctly uncomfortable. Damn jet ran his mouth. But…he hadn’t known that about Blackout. How come the copter hadn’t told him?
“I do not think we should kill him, Blackout,” Starscream said. “I have other plans for him.” The jet looked up, directly into one of Barricade’s vid pickups, and smiled.
Next: Blackout, the Helpful Decepticon
Method: Sticky pnp
Rating; NC-17
Cracky
This, Barricade thought, is my good karma for the next entire orbital cycle. I deserve sainthood for this. All right, he decided, more honestly, just did this so I don’t have to hear the damn copter mooning over the fraggin’ jet all the time. ‘Oh did you see how he flew that mission,’ ‘Oh, I wish I had ailerons like that.’ Ailerons. Seriously. It was enough to drive a decent bot insane. And Barricade had no pretense that he started out ‘decent’.
His subtle hints had been too subtle for the damn jet to figure out. Then again, jet didn’t normally figure anything out about interfacing til he’d been thrown against a wall. Or three. Kind of slow on the uptake there. The two of them were a right pair. Thank Primus they couldn’t replicate. World would be plunged knee deep into idiocy.
Still, thanks to his powers of…persuasion, he’d finally gotten it through the thick alloy that comprised the jet’s fraggin’ skull that maybe, just possibly, Blackout had the hots for him. And it had only taken a cycle, one dented bulkhead, and the jet quivering in overload to do it, too. Masterful negotiator I am, Barricade congratulated himself. Convincing and enjoyable.
Of course he’d had to suggest a believable scenario, since the damn jet still didn’t believe him—seems nothing could overcome his paranoia that he was being secretly made a fool of. Barricade wasn’t much for the romance himself, so he’d come up a little short here. Still, gave the jet a solid way out if he needed one.
And, it didn’t hurt that Barricade had the whole maintenance bay wired. As much work as he’d put into this? He was going to enjoy it.
*****
Blackout lifted up one of his feet, flexing it experimentally. Damn Earth sand got into everything. Took forever to hose out, and then a liberal dose of exterior lubricant. The toes flexed and curled easily. There, that felt better. Next up, his tail rotor. He reached behind him for it, stowed against the small of his back. His elbow bumped into something.
“Starscream!” he said, nearly dropping the rotor in surprise. How long had he been there? Why was…why was the jet just looking at him…like…that?
“Blackout,” the jet replied. “I…. Ah. I see you are doing self-maintenance. That is good.”
In his control room, Barricade slapped his forehead into his palm.
“Yeah. Damn sand.” Blackout sat, his tail rotor loosely held in his hand, looking (Barricade thought) like a slack-jawed moron. If this is what love looked like, love looked stupid.
Okay, Barricade thought. It’s hard to turn this conversation sexy, but they could at least try. Primus. Idiots. I may need a plan B. What the hell could be plan B? Overpulse them and double connect them while they’re unconscious?
“Sand is irritating,” Starscream said, too quickly. “I was wondering, because of your lift mechanism, do you get any…here?” He brushed a talon against the copter’s main rotor mount. He snatched his hand back when Blackout quivered, adding, hastily, “Because I have a different mechanism that has no wash.”
One step forward, two steps in full-scale retreat. Still, points to the jet for trying. He didn’t have a lot of experience hitting on anyone. Normally the other way around. If Blackout wasn’t so damned shy….
“Get some,” Blackout said, distantly, “during landings from kickup.” One of his rotors flicked reflexively back towards the jet, enticing him to touch it again. Blackout’s eyes drifted down from the jet’s face to his hand.
“Ah,” said the jet. His time to look stupid, and (Barricade decided) he took full advantage.
“Uh, Starscream?” Blackout managed, finally, his thumb idly spinning his tail rotor, “Can I, uh, help you with anything?”
“Help me?” the jet squeaked.
Dammit, Blackout, Barricade thought. Just throw him against the wall already. I told you how to do this. But nooooooo, the fraggin’ copter didn’t want to hurt Starscream. Right. Like that was even possible.
“I mean, you here for self-maintenance, too, right?”
The jet looked flatfooted. “Yes!” he said, a little too loudly. “Now is the time for self-maintenance. I shall do some.” Starscream sat down next to Blackout.
Barricade banged his head, hard, against his console. These had to be the worst two robots ever. Well, at least Starscream sat right next to the copter. A little obvious, but neither of them seemed adept at reading subtle cues. Unsubtle might have to do. And overpulsing them was starting to look like a distinct possibility.
“Coolant?” the copter offered, pulling the coolant hose between them, politely. Would be adorably cute if it wasn’t so painfully dorky.
“Do you know something, Blackout?” Barricade’s four eyes snapped up. Something about the tone of Starscream’s voice that didn’t fit. Jet sounded almost confident. In the circumstances, that had to be a bad thing. “Barricade was telling me the most ridiculous thing about you the other solar.”
Barricade snarled at the monitor. I am going, he thought, to strangle that fraggin’ jet. His fingers hovered over the comm. What would he say? Did it matter as long as it interrupted this painful spectacle? Was the jet that bound on embarrassing himself he’d become a self-fulfilling prophecy?
“He—he did?” Blackout squeaked. “Uh, what did he say? About me?” He nervously began tugging on his tail rotor’s small blades.
“He said,” Starscream bent over to attach a drain to his coolant line. Blackout’s free hand hovered, shyly over the jet’s exposed back. Daring himself to touch one of the engines. As the jet straightened up, the copter snatched his hand back. “He said that you desired to interface with me.”
“Oh.” The copter’s face fell. “What’s so ridiculous about that?” he asked, his voice small.
“Well. I mean….” Starscream looked at the copter’s face. Something, SOMETHING, got through to him. His own expression changed, suddenly. “Nothing,” he said, softly. “Nothing ridiculous about it at all.”
“Starscream?” Blackout placed his tail rotor on the floor, turning to the jet.
“Yes?” They stared at each other’s faces for a long moment. Even from his monitors, Barricade could see Blackout’s eyes spiral open.
Barricade sat up. They were actually going to do it! After all of this, this could be the highlight of his career—getting these two clueless dorks to interface. Sad thought perhaps, but sadder that they needed this kind of intervention.
“Uh, what do you think about Barricade?”
Barricade growled. Which one, he thought tightly, do I offline first? These two wouldn’t know how to interface if you gave them the fraggin’ manual and did a step-by-step countoff. And there were only two fraggin’ STEPS!
Starscream blinked at Blackout’s sudden change of conversation. Blackout, or, as Barricade secretly redubbed him, ‘the Spineless Wonder’, shrank back against his bench, aware he’d blown it. “I suppose that Barricade is competent,”
“Yeah,” Blackout said, miserably, “competent.”
Barricade was feeling anything but competent. These two idiots brought new meaning to fool-proof. They could screw up anything. This…wasn’t….that…hard!
The jet bent down again, this time to grab a hose to clean his own feet. Blackout looked down at his tail rotor, then up at the ceiling, as if gathering his courage. He risked—Barricade almost fainted from surprise—a touch at one of Starscream’s engines. The jet gasped, stiffening.
“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Blackout said, snatching his hand back. “Didn’t know that hurt.”
“It did not…hurt,” Starscream said. “Why did you touch me?”
He touched you, Barricade wanted to shriek at the monitor, because he wants to fuck you!
“Oh, you had, you know, some, you know, gunk in the mount.”
“Do I?” He turned his back to the copter. “Is it gone? Can you check?”
Blackout, Barricade thought. If you blow this, I will never speak to you again. He couldn’t tell if the jet were finally catching on to the whole seduction thing and giving the copter a chance to touch him, but, what the hell. It was an opportunity. And Blackout better not waste it. He seethed at Blackout through the monitor.
“Yeah, uh…sure.” Blackout half turned on the bench. His large hands trembled, but he managed—to Barricade’s surprise—to touch the jet without falling over. He kept his hands strictly on mission, running over both engines carefully, testing the mounts and the thruster assembly. The jet’s ventilation picked up appreciably. Blackout risked brushing one of his forced-air ducts. Starscream half-swallowed something that sounded like ‘meep.’
Meep? What kind of freaky sound was that? Barricade shook his head. Still, whether the jet had done it consciously or not, he was getting into what Barricade considered the proper spirit.
“I do not,” the jet said, shakily, “think that I have any gunk there.”
“Want me to—“ the copter cut himself off. Barricade could read his stupid little transparent mind. Helped that his mind was low-wattage. He’d started to ask if he wanted him to stop—but didn’t want the jet to say ‘yes.’ Blackout’s hand suddenly, boldly, grabbed the jet by his rib strut. Starscream gasped, turning his head, his expression some place between surprise and desire. Finally realizing, Barricade thought, that I wasn’t lying to him.
“Blackout?” the jet asked, his ventilation vibrating his chassis. “Do you want to--?” Whatever he was going to ask, the copter finally got the good sense to cover with his mouth, pulling the jet into a kiss. Starscream’s one hand dug hard into the bench, his other coming around to the copter’s face.
Blackout rose to his feet, twisting to clear the jet’s broad shoulders, still locked in a kiss. Starscream made that stupid ‘meep’ sound again, his hands reaching to stroke the copter’s long rotors. Blackout shuddered, and yanked the jet against him, hard.
“I am not,” the jet said, “skilled at this part,” Truer words never spoken, Barricade thought. Still, it was kind of sweet—in a stupid, clueless, painfully dorky way, to watch the two of them fumbling around. Starscream really was useless at this unless he was being ordered around.
Blackout made a soft laugh. “Not so good at it either.”
“Tell me what you want,” the jet whispered, so softly that Barricade’s audio pickups almost didn’t catch it. He stroked the rotor blades gently. Blackout made a sound halfway between a groan and a growl—still, Barricade thought, miles above ‘meep’—nuzzling against the jet’s throat. He, at least, was tall enough to do that. “Want you,” he said.
Sweet sentiment, Barricade thought, but let’s get to the good stuff, okay? Certain intel bot’s got other things to do today.
Starscream’s long-fingered hands drifted to Blackout’s interface hatch. Blackout twitched, but when Starscream pulled his hand back, grabbed the hand and replaced it, firmly. Starscream opened the hatch, pulling out the copter’s module.
Careful now, Barricade thought. No good to show you’ve had that much practice you can do it blind. Blackout didn’t either notice or seem to mind. He shuddered as the jet squeezed at his module. Barricade could see the ready lights blinking an adamant green. Yeah, thing had probably been pinging him since he first turned and saw the jet with him.
Starscream pulled his torso away, slightly, reaching for his own access hatch. He looked up, concerned. “Yes?”
“Yes, dammit,” Blackout said, for once echoing Barricade’s sentiment. Starscream whimpered as he attached Blackout’s module to his port, his eyes and breath fluttering simultaneously. He leaned on the copter as if his legs were no longer able to support him. Blackout lifted him bodily—he was the stronger of the two, and lowered him to the floor, his own hand getting the jet’s module.
“Yes?” he asked, half-teasingly. He knew the answer would be yes—no reason Starscream wouldn’t want to double-connect. Be painful as the Pit itself if he didn’t. Sure, Barricade thought. All the guts now—now that it’s actually happening. Where was some of this boldness 10 kliks ago?
“Yes,” the jet breathed. “If you want.”
Blackout’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said, firmly, tilting the jet’s chin up to him. “If you want.”
“Yes,” Starscream murmured, his ventilation coming in slow throbs that matched the copter’s datastream.
“Yes, what?”
The jet’s eyes lidded open. “Yes, my lord…?” he said, unsure. Barricade winced. A little too much information, right now.
The copter growled. “No. Yes, you want me?” His eyes were hard.
“I want you. Yes.” The jet ducked his head, as if embarrassed by the admission.
“Better,” the copter said, and connected the jet’s module to his own port. His turn to give a groaning sigh. The jet pulled him into a kiss, their legs tangling in the coolant line. Blackout, Barricade noticed, was a noisy one. He moaned in rhythm, louder and louder, into the jet’s shoulder assembly, finally crying out as he overloaded, collapsing hard against the jet. The jet overloaded more quietly, merely shuddering through his entire frame, his eyes fixed, for some reason Barricade couldn’t figure, on Blackout’s face.
After a long moment, Blackout stirred. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning his head, trying to disconnect his module without looking. The jet sat up, covering the copter’s fumbling hand with his own.
“Sorry for what, Blackout?” He unplugged the copter’s module, gently.
“Didn’t mean to…you know…take advantage of you.” Blackout took his module back, looking at it in his hands a little sadly. As if it had disappointed him. Damn jet didn’t look disappointed.
Does he LOOK taken-advantage of? Barricade wanted to shout at his monitor. Does he look like he’s suffered at all? Damn jet looked pretty fraggin’ sated if you asked Barricade—eyes half-lidded, movements slow and languorous.
“You did not,” Starscream said. He tilted his head, suddenly, in some kind of realization. “Blackout? Was that—was that your first time?”
“My first—what? No. No way. Not my first time. Don’t be ridiculous. No.” Blackout clumsily stowed his module, his fingers tangling in the jet’s connector cables. The jet squirmed, but his eyes were hot on Blackout.
“It was. Do not deny it, Blackout. You are an unskilled liar.”
“What makes you say that?” the copter said, nervously.
“Barricade informed me once that whenever someone says ‘do not be ridiculous’ they are lying.”
“Gonna kill that fraggin’ bot,” Blackout muttered. Barricade felt distinctly uncomfortable. Damn jet ran his mouth. But…he hadn’t known that about Blackout. How come the copter hadn’t told him?
“I do not think we should kill him, Blackout,” Starscream said. “I have other plans for him.” The jet looked up, directly into one of Barricade’s vid pickups, and smiled.
Next: Blackout, the Helpful Decepticon
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 04:10 pm (UTC)So, I laughed like a maniac at the awkwardness between Blackout and Starscream and the ending! ZOMG, Barricade, you are SO in trouble!
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Date: 2013-11-23 06:49 am (UTC)Convincing and enjoyable. :D