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shadow_vectorBayverse, Sky and Ground AU
Barricade/Skywarp
sticky
Barricade pushed a yearning sound into Skywarp’s wrist, colors blooming over his cortex as the bond between Starscream and Thundercracker wove together, a continuous belt of light and sound and harmony. Skywarp’s arms pulled against him, as if trying to crack the distance between them, to collapse the hard metal barriers. Their own bond rippled and swirled, echoing the pleasure and desire and a fierce, blazing joy that wasn’t theirs, but set fire to their own systems.
Skywarp stirred first, slowly, as reluctant as Barricade to leave the delicious lethargy. “That…didn’t bother you?”
Barricade shook his head, firmly. Skywarp could feel the resolution across the bond, with the faintest tremor of some hard-to-define emotion—that Skywarp had to ask, when he could have felt for himself. The distance he thought was courtesy Barricade took as withdrawal.
“No,” Skywarp murmured, to his realization more than to Barricade. He clutched the grounder against him. He felt Barricade’s presence in his cortex swell and soften, releasing tension neither had realized he was carrying.
“Good, right?” Barricade mumbled, face buried against Skywarp’s chassis. “That they opened their bond?”
“It is good.”
“What…why’d it shut down?” Underneath the too-casual words, a dark wire of concern.
Skywarp sighed, bending to kiss the grounder’s crest. “Long story.” Even he felt the unsatisfactoriness of the response, could feel Barricade’s—and his own—concern that it might happen again. He frowned. “It…didn’t happen all of a sudden. Just that over years we grew apart. We did…horrible things to each other. We let other things come between us. Ambition or desire or…what we thought we should be, getting in the way of what we were.”
“Won’t happen to us,” Barricade said, grimly, his talons hooking around armor. He clambered up Skywarp’s frame, possessive.
“No,” Skywarp said. “We weren’t ready, back then. I guess we missed Skyfire, each in our own way, and…,” he made a faint shrug, “maybe we bonded wrong. Maybe we held that up between us, back then.”
Barricade squirmed. “Nothing like that in my life,” he said, his voice small. No major loss, no grand tragedy. Just a series of small disappointments and humiliations. Just a long string of petty violations. Pitiful.
“That’s not a bad thing, little spike.” Skywarp shifted, rolling onto his side, carrying Barricade with him. Both had a flash of awareness that this was the same position Starscream and Thundercracker had bonded in, were now drifting in the gentle arms of recharge in. “Seems like you’ve had enough.” Skywarp pushed tenderly through the bond, riffling against Barricade’s memory cortex. Flashes of other mechs, forcing Barricade’s body. How large they’d loomed back then—and how little now. How little it had mattered what he’d wanted, what he’d felt, so long as there was just…himself. But then he’d had Skywarp he’d wanted to be open and pure for. And now…Soundwave. A deeper violation than any he had known.
He pulled Skywarp gently away. No. They would deal with that later. But for now, let it wait outside the door for them. Let them enjoy the rippling, glittering aftereffects of the bonding. Let them be together before anything tried to tear them apart.
His resolve bled through the bond. He heard Skywarp’s soft laugh. “Love you, little spike,” the deep voice rumbled, the vibrations delicious against his armor.
“Yeah?” Barricade challenged. “Prove it.”
“Oh? Really?” A grin spread over Skywarp’s broad face. “You just got yourself into a world of…something, little spike.”
“Have I?”
“Oh yes.” Skywarp leaned in, letting his EM pulse against Barricade’s. “You,” he said, planting a quick kiss in the center of Barricade’s crest, and then another in the dip between his headlamps, “are going to learn entirely new meanings of regret.”
“Like the one where I don’t regret it at all?” Barricade felt the lighthearted posture he’d taken warm and grow real.
“Exactly,” Skywarp said. “Cheeky little spike.” He licked a lazy spiral around Barricade’s spike, still glossed with Barricade’s transfluid and lubricant, still warm from friction with his own valve. He laughed as Barricade shuddered, another dollop of lubricant oozing from his spike. “Regrets yet?”
“No!” Barricade gasped, his talons brushing at Skywarp’s shoulders.
“I’ll just have to try harder, won’t I?” Skywarp ducked his face lower, dipping between Barricade’s thighs, effortlessly pushing one out of the way with his larger hands, letting the talons curl around the armor, one of his thumbs stroking down the sensitive inner seam as he nuzzled against the valve cover. Barricade squirmed his hips, trying to pull away. Skywarp chortled, coaxing the valve’s cover to release by a long, slow circle of his glossa. Barricade squeaked as the cover retracted, a squeak that melted into a formless sound of lust as Skywarp’s glossa began exploring the valve’s rim, little prickles of electrical contact tingling across Barricade’s net.
Skywarp shifted, pushing two of his talons into the valve, stretching the lining, twisting his talons around, grinning against the rim as Barricade’s spinal struts arched off the berth as he sucked in a sharp vent of air. Barricade’s desire was so open and genuine and pure, given so freely: he could feel it across the bond even if he couldn’t have read it in every trembling, eager line of Barricade’s body.
And even if that had failed, his own desire was large enough to envelope both of them, his pleasure in the power and control he had, to play upon Barricade’s sensornet, to whip him into a frenzy, then let it soothe and cool, before teasing him again, ebbing and flowing at his skilled command. This was better for him—better for both of them—than his ancient role, the cadet who had violated and forced his way through the War Academy, the violent jet who had accrued more demerits and brig time than anyone else in the history of the Academy, who’d graduated only because of his practical combat skills and the pleading of his Trine…and Windshear. His old trainer, by then a battered veteran, hobbled by his damaged Binary, importuning, as a personal favor, the last favor he’d ask after a lifetime of service (and everyone had gone silent, thinking, knowing about Warwind), to let Skywarp and his Trine graduate.
And even then, Skywarp had been unmoved, his face a hard mask, numb, as if made of stone, as Windshear’s optics searched his face, the dented and mottled hands clutching at his own. He had seen a broken old mech, a warrior far past his prime, and had wanted only to avoid becoming that.
Now, he’d give anything to erase those ages of hardness, to go back and take Windshear’s hands, and…just understand. Now he longed to undo everything he’d done, everything, just to erase the look of lost despair on Windshear’s face, replace it with even a shadow of the acceptance and love and admiration he saw on Barricade’s.
“Doesn’t matter,” Barricade murmured, and Skywarp felt the clumsy but hesitant presence of the grounder in his cortex. “You’re you. Always.” And Skywarp realized he’d been relaying the whole memory across the bond—even more when he felt the faint echo—through Barricade’s bond—of Starscream and Thundercracker, warm with reminiscences. They had stuck by him then, when he was least worthy. Nothing could replace that. Ever. He had hated them, hated himself, but even then, their devotion had penetrated, humbled him as more than he deserved.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t be. Love that you trust me,” Barricade breathed, craning over his chassis, his optics bright and earnest.
“Ruining interfacing again, aren’t I?” he smiled, sadly.
Barricade sat up, pulling Skywarp’s face to his, his glossa exploring the jet’s cheekflares, tasting their mingled fluids. “Not ruined.” Not ruined, not the moment, not him. He felt the other two distantly echo, supporting him from the strength of their own connection. And their love surged into lust, and Barricade pulled him down on top of him, and their bodies meshed, their minds linked, in a tender, tender violence.
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Date: 2010-11-17 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-18 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-18 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-17 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-18 02:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-17 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-18 02:06 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed!
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Date: 2010-11-18 03:30 pm (UTC)*chinhands, expectant!*
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Date: 2010-11-18 01:43 am (UTC)I'm glad to see the Quaterne working through issues - old and new. And Barricade has come enough out of his shell to start recognizing the emotions of the others through the bond, which is definitely a step in the right direction.
Soundwave definitely deserves to have his aft kicked into a degrading orbit around a star (with no thrusters) but Megatron was the driving force behind this maneuver... I'm sure the Quaterne will keep this in mind and open a can of whoop-aft on ol'Bucket Head.
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Date: 2010-11-18 02:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-18 05:05 am (UTC)Clearly the next step is swapping partners to lather rinse and repeat? *hums hoedown song, allemand left and do-si-do...*
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Date: 2010-12-02 10:32 pm (UTC)