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WIP: Transformers, Blackout/Barricade tactile robosex.

I was writing this for someone else too (haha, guess who! XD) but that never seems to work out well for me. I do like what I have written here, I just ran out of steam to get any farther. :\ Curses. You never know, I might come back to this one. It is awfully cute... (And it turns out the one yesterday will get finished, I wasn't doing it wrong! Yay!)

***

In the dim evening shadow of a building with the words "STATE ARMORY" carved into granite and brick, Frenzy chittered a hodgepodge of languages at Scorponok as he clambered all over the larger symbiont. His advances were quite unwelcome, which was half the fun of it - Scorponok shuddered and danced sideways, claws spinning in outrage, plates shifting to pinch at Frenzy's skittering feet. Frenzy just hiccuped a laugh, daring Scorponok to attempt to spear Frenzy with his tail.

"Let them get it out of their systems," Blackout rumbled. Barricade twitched guiltily, as if it weren't obvious his attention had been on the two little mechs rather than on reporting to Blackout. He spun his rotors, slow and idle, camouflage processes beginning to trigger warnings - he was the only aerial creature in the armory yard. He'd disabled the cameras before landing, though, and his chosen spot was tucked well out of casual view, so he disregarded the warnings for now.

"Nothing else to report," Barricade said shortly. His hologram flickered once, attention drawn to their symbionts once more as Scorponok finally wriggled under a vehicle to scrape Frenzy off. Frenzy ducked through the glass-less windows, chattering nonstop threats and coercion, but Scorponok simply thrashed his tail in relief and settled in. Barricade huffed softly, shifting on his wheels slightly - he was in the parking lot adjoining the armory field, far back so that he could converse with Blackout quietly enough that even another Cybertronian wouldn't be able to overhear. "It's just a load of waiting."

"You're not bored, are you?" Blackout didn't bother to hide his amusement. Barricade growled, a low engine-rumble. Blackout offered a rough burr of a chuckle - riling up Barricade was always good for a moment of entertainment. In fact...

"I'm bored too," Blackout purred, and had to bite back another laugh at the distinct clang of Scorponok's head impacting the underside of his hiding place. "We can be bored together, yeah?"

Barricade was silent a moment, his energy field settling into that strange neutral state he was so good at. "I've finished my report," he finally said. Blackout considered that for a bit before deciding to go with the most fortuitous angle - Barricade had nowhere better to be and nothing better to be doing.

Blackout transformed, reaching out to haul up the armory's huge doors, flimsy human-forged metals crumpling in his grip. Stepping into its cool cover was a bit of a relief from the ever-present fear of being seen. Even better, he knew that even stooped over, the glow of his optics from the shadows would be intimidating. He liked being intimidating.

Barricade hesitated on the other side of the fence, his engine slowly revving up and down. Blackout flared his rotors, dust swirling in eddies of darker shadow.

"It's not fair that you're so fragging hot," Barricade grumbled, finally hauling himself over the chain-link fence and stalking into the building. Scorponok shrieked, thrashing his way out of his hiding spot, but Barricade simply dragged down the armory door with a deafening clang. Frenzy's excited chatter as he leapt on Scorponok's back was mercifully muffled.

Barricade's four optics were distinct in the dark, red light reflecting off the angles of his face in... a surprisingly pleasing, exotic way. Blackout leaned back, amused by the smaller mech's flinch at the motion - to sunlight-adjusted optics, it probably seemed as if the whole room shifted. He liked that. His rotors flared out, tapping against the walls.

"Well?" Barricade finally said, claws flexing nervously by his sides.

"Waiting for you," Blackout chuckled. "Come here, then."

Barricade eyed him as if planning a strategy to attack and conquer. It gave him a certain look, the twist of his cheek finials all acute angles and sharp edges. Blackout hummed approvingly, reaching out to snag a wrist-tire and tug the smaller mech closer. Barricade didn't resist, but...

"Having second thoughts?" Blackout tilted Barricade's face up, expecting a narrow glare or a snarl, but Barricade simply went blank. Blackout frowned. What could Barricade possibly be expecting from him?

Blackout waited. No one could ever call him impatient. Slowly Barricade thawed, until finally he reached for the spikes of Blackout's chin, jerking him down to eye level. "Not backing out," Barricade growled. It didn't matter that he was obviously talking more to himself than to Blackout - Blackout's engines whined in response, rotors jerking with his arousal. Barricade looked surprisingly good like this, determined and fierce and lit only by the glow of their own optics. Barricade's clever fingers ran along Blackout's loose cables, flight mechanisms gone limp in bipedal form - he shivered at the touch, reaching out to reciprocate.

Barricade caught his wrist. "Don't touch," the smaller mech ordered.

Blackout growled disapproval, low and sharp. Barricade flinched but didn't waver, staring him down with admirable determination. Fine. Blackout leaned back on his hands, rotors splayed out wide so he wouldn't pinch them, offering up his chassis.

Barricade hardly seemed to know what to do at first. Blackout huffed - he might be patient, but he was bored. Ignoring Barricade's snarled protest, Blackout grabbed a wrist-tire and hauled him closer.

"Here," Blackout said pointedly. "And behind the cockpit, if you can reach. Let me know when you're ready to let me make you feel good." And with that, his point made, he let Barricade go and tried not to laugh at the distinctly grumpy look Barricade was giving him.

"...Fine," he finally grumbled, "You can touch."

Blackout chuckled and rocked forward, tossing Barricade onto his back and leaning over him. "Thought you'd never ask," he said cheerfully, ignoring Barricade's panicked struggles. The mech would learn soon enough that he meant no harm - his rotors were aching, was all. "Enough of that, now."

Blackout had to pin Barricade's clever hands before they tore open something vital, much to his regret. He rather liked those delicate claws in his systems. This was just getting ridiculous.

"Alright," he said loudly over the roar of Barricade's engine, "If I wanted to force you, I'd fragging force you. It'd take a couple nanoclicks and then I'd be even more bored than before. If you're gonna keep jumping like a petrorabbit every time I move, this isn't worth the fragging effort."

The engine-noise softened to a threatening rumble. Blackout waited a click for it to sink in, than asked, "Are we doing this or not? I can get up and leave just as easily as stay."

"Let go of me," Barricade said, low and soft, and Blackout released his hands. Barricade rolled his wrists, clenching his fingers as if testing the mechanisms, looking anywhere but at Blackout - who was just about ready to call it quits anyway. Wasn't his job to rehabilitate anyone.

Just as Blackout was about to pull away disappointed, Barricade reached up and tangled those clever claws in a shoulder-mount, pulling Blackout down to give him a strange little nuzzle. Good enough. Blackout shifted his weight to one hand and traced the tiny rectangles of Barricade's grill with the other. It earned him a shiver and bolder touches exploring up to his rotor mount - he made a little displeased noise and dragged one of those bold hands down to his cockpit, urging it into the mechanisms tucked behind clear plating. Barricade obeyed the unspoken order, but his other hand kept clutching at the rotor mount - Blackout didn't mind as long as he kept up those delicious caresses inside the cockpit.
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