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Restless Sparks
TFA, Inamorato AU
Blackout/Barricade
fluffy b'awww.
for
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Blackout flopped on the berth. Barricade always told him that recharging alone sucked, and he knew by now that Barricade wouldn’t lie about important stuff like that. Well, not to Blackout, at least. But Barricade hadn’t mentioned that the suck part was that it was impossible to fall into recharge in the first place.
He missed Barricade. And he knew he shouldn’t worry because this wasn’t like last time or nothing. Barricade had kissed him goodbye, mouthplates lingering and sweet on Blackout’s own. Blackout’s own mouth had tingled for like a megacycle afterwards, warm with promise.
And he’d said he’d be back, and soon. And like Blackout said: Barricade wouldn’t lie about important stuff.
But…what if someone attacked him again? No. Blackout wouldn’t think like that. He refused. Barricade hated when he worried. But wrestling with worry was making it really, really hard to recharge.
Blackout squirmed in frustration. This wasn’t working. Maybe he should study. Yeah, study.
He rolled over, wincing as he pinched one of his rotors by mistake under his arm as he reached for the datapad stuck to the side of the berth. He popped it on, scrolling listlessly through his next lesson: history. History…was kind of boring. Blackout could see a use for, like, math and stuff, but this history? Wasn’t that like what they were trying to fix?
He sighed, trying to concentrate. But it was so boring. And then he started thinking that lately, Barricade had been sort of slacking on giving him quizzes and stuff. Like it wasn’t fun for him anymore. And while Blackout liked learning, because it made him feel, you know, less dumb, he wanted Barricade to enjoy it, too.
He missed his quizzes.
Well, he thought. I can make up my own quiz, maybe. It won’t be the same, but, it’d be something. Okay, right. So…history of the Great War. Oh wait, I actually know this!
Blackout blinked, riffling quickly through the chapter. He…knew this stuff. Which he realized should have made him happy—he was already smart and stuff—but he didn’t know it from studying, but because he’d lived it. Which meant…he…was…history?
His optics prickled. He was old! Really old! And Barricade was so much younger, and cooler, and fun, and it was really just a matter of time before Barricade got like…tired of him and stuff. Slow and stupid and old. Barricade liked fun and excitement and…Blackout just wanted to spend time with him. Watching vid feeds or playing games or just, you know, talking. About the war, or about, well, just stuff.
He shut off the datapad, numbly, feeling vaguely queasy. He lay for a long moment in the dark room. Barricade would come back. He knew it. Barricade had promised. It was just a matter of time.
And just a matter of time before he left again.
[***]
Barricade opened the door quietly, pausing to listen. The soft noises of the apartment cube were more comforting to him than he’d ever let on—the quiet buzz of the energon storage chamber, the autoclave, and over all of them, the gentle tone of Blackout’s engines in recharge. Peace. This is what peace sounded like. This is what it felt like, he thought, stepping into the warm, alive darkness. Comfort and safety and…love.
He lifted up his armored toe-plates so only the rubber pads of his feet contacted the floor, creeping across to the recharge room proper. He paused in the doorway, taking in the massive form of the copter, curled on his side around an empty, Barricade-shaped area. Poor copter had probably studied himself into exhaustion. And Barricade had been neglecting him. It was all these stupid missions! He hated them. As much as he needed them. But Blackout made it all worth it. He resolved to do better.
He felt his spark surge, and it took everything he had not to pounce on the copter, demanding attention, demanding an interface. But he realized, looking at Blackout, that what he really wanted was to be in that empty shape.
He inched over, easing himself onto the berth, pouring himself into that space, his systems trembling at the soft fuzz of Blackout’s EM field against his. He flipped over, burying his face against the massive chassis, just before he felt the arms wrap against him.
“Glad you’re back,” Blackout mumbled against Barricade’s crest. He must have been really sleepy, the interceptor thought, because he sounded kind of sad.
Barricade wriggled closer, worming one knee between the copter’s thighs. “Glad to be back.” He didn’t know why, but he felt the word pull itself out of him from somewhere near his spark chamber. “Always.”
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d'awwwing forever now :3
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only Blackout would come up with the mental algebra of pop quizzes = love and its logical inverse. you want to noogie him and hug him squished all at the same time.
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i just wish my blackout wasn't being such a chromia right now.
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(Yay secret TF code!)(oh wait. :C)
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And yay for Barricade finally starting to get what the Clueby4 has been trying to tell him: He wants Blackout!
Wheee these two are just so damn cute together! ^_^
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And Barricade's smart, but he's an idiot about some things!
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And I like Onslaught's summation best: Watching the spectacle of Barricade in love is hysterical. Is there anyone left (except maybe Blackout) who hasn't figured out that he's head over pedes for the copter? :giggle:
(Dare I ask what the arrow on your icon is for?)