Enlightenment wut?
Okay. Here it is. I included thelast chapter too, so you can refresh your memory. lol
Title: Enlightenment
Rating: NC-17 overall (most chapters will be PG-13 on average)
Pairing: Barricade/OC, Jazz/Prowl, Ironhide/Ratchet, Optimus/OC, Sam/Bee/Mikaela, and combinations thereof
Summary: Natalie explores her relationship with Barricade, discovers the intricacies (and eccentricities) of her new body and struggles to find her place among her Autobot brethren.
Warnings: Explicit sex, violence, language, references to torture and rape, interspecies mating, homoerotic robots...the usual.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Natalie and the Watanabes. Transformers belongs to DreamWorks and Hasbro. Tennenbaum is property of 2K Games.
Chapter 1: Come Around
Natalie awoke with a rude start when she tumbled sideways after the surface she’d been sleeping against suddenly disappeared. Thankfully she fell against something soft and nice smelling.
“Good morning.” It murmured.
She smiled and allowed her eyes a moment to focus on the handsome face of Barricade’s holomatter. He’d changed it again. Probably because a police officer attracted too much attention. Now a young man with ink black hair and piercingly brown eyes was holding her to his chest.
“Morning.” She murmured back, then winced and touched a hand to her throat. It was even scratchier than yesterday. Maybe she was getting sick?
“Can you walk?” Barricade asked, taking the opportunity to open her door further now that she wasn’t sleeping against it.
Natalie thought for a moment. “Probably, but I hurt so bad everywhere...”
With a heavy sigh (which she expected was just for show) Barricade slid his arm around her waist and helped her out of his vehicle form. He allowed her to put nearly all of her weight on him and carefully assisted her into a motel room.
They were in the middle of a rather large city, making Natalie wonder how long she’d slept while they’d been on the road. The motel was...decent. It wasn’t a total dump, but she had a feeling it wasn’t the type to provide its guests with all the amenities. She’d consider herself lucky if she found a bar of Dial in the shower. Oh...a shower. Her skin was itchy with the feeling of dirt cemented to her skin by dried blood, sweat and tears.
“I need a shower.” She whimpered, wincing again at the painful protesting of her throat.
“Fleshling, you are aware that you are speaking to the vehicle in which you just spent the last six hours caressing in your sleep with filthy hands?”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Maybe I’ll take a bath...”
“You’ll sit quietly while I attempt to scrub off this coating of grime.” He muttered, stopping momentarily to slide a keycard through the scanner and unlock their room door. She flashed him a look and he rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t very well let you drown can I? You’re liable to pass into recharge if left unchecked.”
She decided not to argue, and let him drag her into the bathroom. He flicked on the florescent light, which hummed far too loudly and illuminated that stark white room with harsh white light, nearly blinding them both. Barricade wasted no time in beginning to strip her, despite her small fight. In the end she was in her underwear, shivering, and being sat down on the edge of the tub.
The water in the tub started out cold as ice and came tumbling out of the faucet with a low, whistling sound. Soon it heated up, and began to produce steam which wafted upward like smoke, teasing the skin on her arms as it mixed with the colder air. She watched it rise slowly from the water so that she could avoid watching Barricade undress. His pants and shirt left in a heap on the floor beside the tub. She stared at them, knowing something was off but feeling too exhausted to put effort into figuring out just what it was...
Barricade slapped her thigh lightly, bringing her attention to him.
“Stay conscious, Natalie.”
“Mmm...I was. I’m awake.” She told him, hating the slur in her words.
His hands worked a scratchy sponge over her legs, scrubbing hard to get all the dirt off them. It stung, but in a pleasant sort of way, and the warm water pooling around her feet did just enough to ease the pain in her joints. Barricade didn’t stop to do more than get the dirt off her. No rub-downs to loosen up her muscles, no gentle stroking to ease her frazzled nerves. Nothing but the too-casual glide of his fingers over her skin.
Natalie suddenly became self-conscious. When was the last time she’d bathed or combed her hair or brushed her teeth or shaved? She went stiff and jerked away a little. Barricade looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. He reached out to her through the bond, concerned. The feeling of his emotions pervading her senses was one she didn’t remember being so...strong. It made her draw back.
“Fleshling...” He gave her something of a stern look, as though he were reprimanding her, and placed a gentle hand on her knee.
She shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at the hand on her knee. Pale skin contrasting sharply with the mocha brown of her own smooth, clean shaven skin. She stared in surprise for a moment, and leaned forward to run her hand down her leg. It brought her breasts close to Barricade’s face, and she noticed he didn’t bother to move. She wasn’t much interested in him though, what she didn’t understand was how smooth her skin was. That’s when she noticed she was missing some scars. It wasn’t her skin.
“Were you there?” She asked softly. “After Birkin...” She couldn’t say it.
Barricade went a little stiff himself and answered curtly. “You don’t remember?”
“No. All I remember is what it felt like.” She grimaced at the remembered sensation. How easily the hunting knife slid through. As though her neck was mere butter...
His icy voice cut through her thoughts. “I was there the whole time. I...held your hand.”
Natalie looked up at him. She felt a pang in her heart and an ache form in her chest. He stayed with her? Held her hand while she died? Perhaps it was because she was tired and thirsty and frightened that Starscream might still take her from him, but Barricade’s words evoked something strong enough to make her go teary eyed.
“Were you there when Ratchet repaired me?” She asked.
“Yes.” He nodded. The glassy look of his eyes told her he was reliving some unpleasant memories.
She placed her hand on his arm. “How much of me did he replace?”
Barricade paused for a moment, contemplating his answer, then blurted out, “Nearly everything.”
But of course. In both humans and Cybertronians, all the body systems are connected, working together. Convert one to machine and you must convert them all.
“The only things left of your original body are muscles, tendons, soft tissue.” He went on. “Your eyes, your...” His own eyes raked down her body and she felt the blood rush to her face...if it was blood. Or her face.
“So, I’m more of a half-breed now than ever.” She sighed, lifting her hands up so she might examine them. Natalie let out a shuddering breath and tried desperately not to cry. Not in front of Barricade. Not like she’d been crying on and off every few hours for the past week. But really, it wasn’t like she had no reason to cry. She’d been abducted, hunted down, and beaten. She’d undergone a complete species-change, it wasn’t like she was what you could call “human” anymore. Did that mean that she, Natalie Crossfire, was dead? Then who was she? Could her father still be called her father? Did that mean that Birkin and Tennenbaum were her parents? Or was it Ratchet?
“Breathe.” Barricade said softly. He took her hands, which she had not realized she was still holding up in front of her face. “You’re not a half-breed. And none of those things should be worried about just now.”
“If I’m not a half-breed, what am I? I’m not human. I’m not Cybertronian. I’m not Natalie.” She wiped at her eyes, angry that she had indeed begun crying.
“Natalie...” Barricade spoke it slowly, not as her name but rather as a word he was testing the feel of. “It’s the designation given to you by your creators, yes?” She nodded. “And...your engineers. Did they designate you?”
Again, she nodded. “SBE1.” She replied with a loud sob. “All I am is a number.”
Barricade drew her into his arms, pulling her down into the tub. Her arms went around him and he held her tightly.
“Are you malfunctioning?” He asked against her neck. She shivered. “You’re not a number, Fleshling. Your designation is not your identity. Humans are so...strange, in their need to label things. Especially since your languages are entirely inadequate to do so effectively.”
She took in a slow, calming breath. He was right of course. What’s in a name?
“Cybertronian sparklings can go without designation for nearly a vorn before naming themselves and they do not suffer identity crisis.”
With that, Barricade gently pushed her back so he could pick up the sponge and clean off her arms. He was especially careful with her hands (almost reverent) when he cleaned them, more so than he was even with her hair which was matted with blood and dirt in the back. The shampoo stung her scalp, but she bore it and thanked him for being gentle as he was.
He gave no response, just helped her up, dried her off and took her to bed.
She sunk down into the scratchy sheets atop the hard mattress, Barricade lying stiffly beside her. She tried not to think about when the last time the sheets had been changed or who had last had sex in them.
“I hate hotels.” She whined sleepily to the man on her right. “They’re biohazards.”
“Go to sleep.” He pulled the covers up around them and switched off the lamp.
They both lay there for a moment in what became apparent to her was an awkward silence. She shallowed her breathing which had been loud and obnoxious to her ears, not wanting to disturb the quiet.
It occurred to her that Barricade might have felt uncomfortable because he was unsure what to do. She wondered if it was back to this, the denial and stiff interactions. How stupid. Hadn’t they made progress before their separation?
She turned to face him and closed the distance between them, resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed and pulled her closer, as though it were a chore, but she could tell he was relieved she still wanted him.
“My memories are still a little unorganized,” she told him, “but I remember you not being so scared of me.”
He let out an indignant huff. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Uh huh. I bet.”
Barricade pulled her body against his and planted a firm kiss on her lips. She returned it with just as much determination, though found she was reluctant to continue in light of how sore and tired she was.
“Sex later. Sleep now...” She murmured.
“Sex later?” He asked, interest piqued.
“Sleep now.”
“Yes, I heard that part, but-“
“Barricade. Recharge. Go.”
He pressed his face against her neck and draped an arm across her shoulders. “Fine.”
With a sigh, she initiated her own recharge sequence and hoped that when she awoke it wouldn’t be rudely or because they were under attack.
Title: Enlightenment (chapter 2)
Rating: R
Pairing: Barricade/OC
Summary: More exposition before we get to the action.
Warnings: Semi-graphic sex, holo-porn, language
Disclaimer: See first chapter
Chapter 2: Midafternoon Rendezvous
The bed, despite being hard and having over-starched sheets, was warm and cozy. The typical hotel curtains cut out nearly all light from what must have been the blazing afternoon sun with their heavy fabric. Particles of dust twisted languidly through the air, glinting slightly in the light that did shine through.
They weren’t paying much attention to that though.
Upon waking (which they did simultaneously) both were totally lost in the feeling of being completely enveloped in each other’s presence. Were he a little more coherent, Barricade might guess that they had made their connection instinctively while unconscious, as bond mates were wont to do. As it was, he was too busy soaking up her presence to pay attention to what he’d learned at the academy.
She was soft and smooth under his fingers and her spark burned hot and inviting within her chest cavity. He felt her mouth searching out his own and met her halfway. The kiss sent shockwaves through his holomatter as well as his mechanic form. The feeling of his pulsing spark and heating internal components combined with the physical reactions of his human form and her mirrored sensations through the bond...it was intoxicating.
“Oh, baby...” He gasped against her parted lips. The thrill that went through her at his words rippled back through the bond to him, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He could feel her heart (or the pump Ratchet had replaced it with) pounding furiously in her chest. Blood and oil and energon rushing through her body to power her various systems, coolant and fans working to reduce rapid temperature spikes. It felt like being her or at least being inside her, which he suddenly realized from the ache in his groin that he was not.
She was already way ahead of him, pulling him down on top of her and spreading her legs for him. When they’d gone to bed they’d done so naked, and so nothing separated the hot, slick folds of her body from his erection. They both groaned at the sensation. Her legs went around his waist and her arms around his neck brought him closer. Barricade wasted no time in grabbing her hips and guiding them upward slightly so he could fill her.
He felt like maybe his spark had exploded. But if this was what it was like to be dead, he was perfectly fine with that.
Barricade couldn’t hear or see or feel anything that wasn’t her. It was overwhelming, all consuming and Primus, her spark was burning so hot between them he thought she might fry her circuitry. It was pulsing hard and hot against him, signifying her impending overload, and then her blessed organic body arched up and clamped down around him, sending him reeling mentally, physically, spiritually as the humans said…
He was so lost in the feeling, he didn’t even realize he’d climaxed until suddenly he snapped back into consciousness and found himself alone in bed, reduced back down to a single consciousness.
He was so wrapped up in trying to feel for her through the bond that it took a moment for all of his senses to load. The sounds and smells of the room were still coming back slowly when she reappeared in the bathroom doorway. She walked slowly and looked very much like the task took all her concentration.
“Oh, you’re alive. Good.” She noted, exhausted.
“Did you think otherwise?”
“Well, you were just lying there, cold and motionless, not responding…” He put his arms around her as she collapsed beside him. “I figured it was a robot thing.”
“My holomatter continues being generated even while I’m unconscious, but the image locks.”
She smiled slyly up at him. “I see. So, what you’re saying is that your little virgin processor was so blown by its first sexual experience that you blacked out?”
“Don’t look so smug. You weren’t that great.” He replied coldly, looking away from her.
“How would you know, virgin?”
“Because I never came, whore.”
“So you passed out from…what?”
“How awful it was.”
“Oh. Well then I guess I’ll just have to lay here and masturbate since you obviously don’t want to go again…” Her fingers trailed lightly over her skin to her clit. The low moan she let escape her made shivers run down his spine.
Barricade turned back to her and grabbed her hand away from between her legs. “Well, if I’m doomed to spend the rest of my existence with you, I may as well start teaching you how to properly-“
Her lips on his stopped his speaking. He pulled her body tight against his, kissing her in a way that was almost desperate. She gently pushed him away.
“Wait, wait. Don’t get all excited. Ratchet said our bond would try and complete itself. We need to be careful.” She sighed. “We can’t do this again.”
“The bond has nothing to do with it-”
“No. I’m sorry to get you all worked up and not follow through, but no.”
“Cock tease.” He ground out.
“I know. I’m a whorish, slutty, cock tease.” She rolled her eyes.
“You forgot indecisive.”
“Shut up ‘Cade.”
He opted to do as she requested and fell silent, but then realized he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands or if he should put them anywhere at all. Hadn’t he just lain with her a some hours previously. This hadn’t seemed so hard then. He was probably over-thinking it. He just needed to be natural. The current location of his hands was probably fine.
Taking a deep (and unnecessary) breath, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. She didn’t respond negatively, so he tentatively continued. The soft lips on her temple, and insistent fingers tracing shapes on her thigh eased her rapid pulse. She leaned into the touches and made a small confession. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“If the base isn’t safe, where are we going?”
“Idaho.”
“Eww.”
He chuckled. “Korea spoiled you, didn’t it?”
“It really did. Canada at least had snow, which was pretty, but Potato Land can’t compare.”
“Potato Land?” He looked down at her, amused.
“You know, Potato Land; the starchiest place on Earth?”
This earned her another chuckle, surprising her.
“You understand my Disneyland allusion?”
“I understand vicariously through you that it is amusing…and now I’m feeling nostalgia for Disneyland.”
“I don’t need a play by play of my own emotions, thanks.”
He reached up to play with her hair in the brief silence that followed, and then decided, “We’ll need to leave in an hour or so.”
She groaned in response, and he smiled.
***
“I want to die.” She whined.
“Yes, and I want you to die, but we can’t all have what we want.” Barricade growled.
“If I see another square foot of flat land I’m going to scream.”
“Then close your eyes.”
“Shut up, you prick!”
“You shut up!”
“B-b-both of you, shut up!” Frenzy stuttered out. She turned to glare at him. Perhaps the little boom box might have been endearing if he hadn’t recently put a ninja star in her chest.
“Stay out of this you over-grown can opener!” She shot back, then coughed violently when her voice cracked.
Barricade touched careful fingertips to her collarbone in worry. His concern was sweet, but she was okay. Really. Or at least, she thought she was until she tried to tell him as much and collapsed into another coughing fit.
Her throat had been getting progressively sorer and sorer all day, and the coughing wasn’t helping. It had bothered her all day the previous day as well, but then had seemed fine after their little escapades that morning.
::You should remain silent and consume large amounts of fluids.:: He told her through the bond.
She huffed in frustration. ::No, really?::
::Your sarcasm is unnecessary.::
::Your existence is unnecessary.::
::Fine…bitch…::
::You know if you don’t turn off your comm link I can hear your thoughts, right?::
::I wanted you to hear that. Kind of like how you sometimes mutter obscenities under your breath so that I will hear them without it sounding like you’re outright swearing at me.::
“You know that you aren’t using a p-private channel, right?” Frenzy asked with a mechanical sigh.
::When have I ever done that?:: The woman in the passenger seat glared at their driver, ignoring the small bot seated behind them.
::Part of you is still a human femme. You’ll do it eventually!::
::So you’re a sexist now?::
::Please, keep rambling. Give me an excuse to pull this car over and tear you apart with my bare hands.::
::“This car?” You are spending way too much time pretending to be a human.::
The couple stared hard at each other for a moment. His brown eyes held just a tint of red from the light of the setting sun, and it made her wonder for just a fraction of a second if he’d been serious about dismembering her. Barricade seemed to pick up on this since he rolled his eyes just before his hologram evaporated in the shimmering, dusty way he liked it to.
The cab stayed filled with an awful, palpable silence even after her hands began stroking the seams of his interior lovingly.
::Asshole.:: She thought at him through the bond. ::Now I feel like a bitch.::
::You are a bitch.::
::At least I’m not a slag-sucking traitor.::
::Hmmm.::
I'm already working on chapter three, so it should be up soonish. By Wednesday at the latest :)
Title: Enlightenment
Rating: NC-17 overall (most chapters will be PG-13 on average)
Pairing: Barricade/OC, Jazz/Prowl, Ironhide/Ratchet, Optimus/OC, Sam/Bee/Mikaela, and combinations thereof
Summary: Natalie explores her relationship with Barricade, discovers the intricacies (and eccentricities) of her new body and struggles to find her place among her Autobot brethren.
Warnings: Explicit sex, violence, language, references to torture and rape, interspecies mating, homoerotic robots...the usual.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Natalie and the Watanabes. Transformers belongs to DreamWorks and Hasbro. Tennenbaum is property of 2K Games.
Chapter 1: Come Around
Natalie awoke with a rude start when she tumbled sideways after the surface she’d been sleeping against suddenly disappeared. Thankfully she fell against something soft and nice smelling.
“Good morning.” It murmured.
She smiled and allowed her eyes a moment to focus on the handsome face of Barricade’s holomatter. He’d changed it again. Probably because a police officer attracted too much attention. Now a young man with ink black hair and piercingly brown eyes was holding her to his chest.
“Morning.” She murmured back, then winced and touched a hand to her throat. It was even scratchier than yesterday. Maybe she was getting sick?
“Can you walk?” Barricade asked, taking the opportunity to open her door further now that she wasn’t sleeping against it.
Natalie thought for a moment. “Probably, but I hurt so bad everywhere...”
With a heavy sigh (which she expected was just for show) Barricade slid his arm around her waist and helped her out of his vehicle form. He allowed her to put nearly all of her weight on him and carefully assisted her into a motel room.
They were in the middle of a rather large city, making Natalie wonder how long she’d slept while they’d been on the road. The motel was...decent. It wasn’t a total dump, but she had a feeling it wasn’t the type to provide its guests with all the amenities. She’d consider herself lucky if she found a bar of Dial in the shower. Oh...a shower. Her skin was itchy with the feeling of dirt cemented to her skin by dried blood, sweat and tears.
“I need a shower.” She whimpered, wincing again at the painful protesting of her throat.
“Fleshling, you are aware that you are speaking to the vehicle in which you just spent the last six hours caressing in your sleep with filthy hands?”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Maybe I’ll take a bath...”
“You’ll sit quietly while I attempt to scrub off this coating of grime.” He muttered, stopping momentarily to slide a keycard through the scanner and unlock their room door. She flashed him a look and he rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t very well let you drown can I? You’re liable to pass into recharge if left unchecked.”
She decided not to argue, and let him drag her into the bathroom. He flicked on the florescent light, which hummed far too loudly and illuminated that stark white room with harsh white light, nearly blinding them both. Barricade wasted no time in beginning to strip her, despite her small fight. In the end she was in her underwear, shivering, and being sat down on the edge of the tub.
The water in the tub started out cold as ice and came tumbling out of the faucet with a low, whistling sound. Soon it heated up, and began to produce steam which wafted upward like smoke, teasing the skin on her arms as it mixed with the colder air. She watched it rise slowly from the water so that she could avoid watching Barricade undress. His pants and shirt left in a heap on the floor beside the tub. She stared at them, knowing something was off but feeling too exhausted to put effort into figuring out just what it was...
Barricade slapped her thigh lightly, bringing her attention to him.
“Stay conscious, Natalie.”
“Mmm...I was. I’m awake.” She told him, hating the slur in her words.
His hands worked a scratchy sponge over her legs, scrubbing hard to get all the dirt off them. It stung, but in a pleasant sort of way, and the warm water pooling around her feet did just enough to ease the pain in her joints. Barricade didn’t stop to do more than get the dirt off her. No rub-downs to loosen up her muscles, no gentle stroking to ease her frazzled nerves. Nothing but the too-casual glide of his fingers over her skin.
Natalie suddenly became self-conscious. When was the last time she’d bathed or combed her hair or brushed her teeth or shaved? She went stiff and jerked away a little. Barricade looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. He reached out to her through the bond, concerned. The feeling of his emotions pervading her senses was one she didn’t remember being so...strong. It made her draw back.
“Fleshling...” He gave her something of a stern look, as though he were reprimanding her, and placed a gentle hand on her knee.
She shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at the hand on her knee. Pale skin contrasting sharply with the mocha brown of her own smooth, clean shaven skin. She stared in surprise for a moment, and leaned forward to run her hand down her leg. It brought her breasts close to Barricade’s face, and she noticed he didn’t bother to move. She wasn’t much interested in him though, what she didn’t understand was how smooth her skin was. That’s when she noticed she was missing some scars. It wasn’t her skin.
“Were you there?” She asked softly. “After Birkin...” She couldn’t say it.
Barricade went a little stiff himself and answered curtly. “You don’t remember?”
“No. All I remember is what it felt like.” She grimaced at the remembered sensation. How easily the hunting knife slid through. As though her neck was mere butter...
His icy voice cut through her thoughts. “I was there the whole time. I...held your hand.”
Natalie looked up at him. She felt a pang in her heart and an ache form in her chest. He stayed with her? Held her hand while she died? Perhaps it was because she was tired and thirsty and frightened that Starscream might still take her from him, but Barricade’s words evoked something strong enough to make her go teary eyed.
“Were you there when Ratchet repaired me?” She asked.
“Yes.” He nodded. The glassy look of his eyes told her he was reliving some unpleasant memories.
She placed her hand on his arm. “How much of me did he replace?”
Barricade paused for a moment, contemplating his answer, then blurted out, “Nearly everything.”
But of course. In both humans and Cybertronians, all the body systems are connected, working together. Convert one to machine and you must convert them all.
“The only things left of your original body are muscles, tendons, soft tissue.” He went on. “Your eyes, your...” His own eyes raked down her body and she felt the blood rush to her face...if it was blood. Or her face.
“So, I’m more of a half-breed now than ever.” She sighed, lifting her hands up so she might examine them. Natalie let out a shuddering breath and tried desperately not to cry. Not in front of Barricade. Not like she’d been crying on and off every few hours for the past week. But really, it wasn’t like she had no reason to cry. She’d been abducted, hunted down, and beaten. She’d undergone a complete species-change, it wasn’t like she was what you could call “human” anymore. Did that mean that she, Natalie Crossfire, was dead? Then who was she? Could her father still be called her father? Did that mean that Birkin and Tennenbaum were her parents? Or was it Ratchet?
“Breathe.” Barricade said softly. He took her hands, which she had not realized she was still holding up in front of her face. “You’re not a half-breed. And none of those things should be worried about just now.”
“If I’m not a half-breed, what am I? I’m not human. I’m not Cybertronian. I’m not Natalie.” She wiped at her eyes, angry that she had indeed begun crying.
“Natalie...” Barricade spoke it slowly, not as her name but rather as a word he was testing the feel of. “It’s the designation given to you by your creators, yes?” She nodded. “And...your engineers. Did they designate you?”
Again, she nodded. “SBE1.” She replied with a loud sob. “All I am is a number.”
Barricade drew her into his arms, pulling her down into the tub. Her arms went around him and he held her tightly.
“Are you malfunctioning?” He asked against her neck. She shivered. “You’re not a number, Fleshling. Your designation is not your identity. Humans are so...strange, in their need to label things. Especially since your languages are entirely inadequate to do so effectively.”
She took in a slow, calming breath. He was right of course. What’s in a name?
“Cybertronian sparklings can go without designation for nearly a vorn before naming themselves and they do not suffer identity crisis.”
With that, Barricade gently pushed her back so he could pick up the sponge and clean off her arms. He was especially careful with her hands (almost reverent) when he cleaned them, more so than he was even with her hair which was matted with blood and dirt in the back. The shampoo stung her scalp, but she bore it and thanked him for being gentle as he was.
He gave no response, just helped her up, dried her off and took her to bed.
She sunk down into the scratchy sheets atop the hard mattress, Barricade lying stiffly beside her. She tried not to think about when the last time the sheets had been changed or who had last had sex in them.
“I hate hotels.” She whined sleepily to the man on her right. “They’re biohazards.”
“Go to sleep.” He pulled the covers up around them and switched off the lamp.
They both lay there for a moment in what became apparent to her was an awkward silence. She shallowed her breathing which had been loud and obnoxious to her ears, not wanting to disturb the quiet.
It occurred to her that Barricade might have felt uncomfortable because he was unsure what to do. She wondered if it was back to this, the denial and stiff interactions. How stupid. Hadn’t they made progress before their separation?
She turned to face him and closed the distance between them, resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed and pulled her closer, as though it were a chore, but she could tell he was relieved she still wanted him.
“My memories are still a little unorganized,” she told him, “but I remember you not being so scared of me.”
He let out an indignant huff. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Uh huh. I bet.”
Barricade pulled her body against his and planted a firm kiss on her lips. She returned it with just as much determination, though found she was reluctant to continue in light of how sore and tired she was.
“Sex later. Sleep now...” She murmured.
“Sex later?” He asked, interest piqued.
“Sleep now.”
“Yes, I heard that part, but-“
“Barricade. Recharge. Go.”
He pressed his face against her neck and draped an arm across her shoulders. “Fine.”
With a sigh, she initiated her own recharge sequence and hoped that when she awoke it wouldn’t be rudely or because they were under attack.
Title: Enlightenment (chapter 2)
Rating: R
Pairing: Barricade/OC
Summary: More exposition before we get to the action.
Warnings: Semi-graphic sex, holo-porn, language
Disclaimer: See first chapter
Chapter 2: Midafternoon Rendezvous
The bed, despite being hard and having over-starched sheets, was warm and cozy. The typical hotel curtains cut out nearly all light from what must have been the blazing afternoon sun with their heavy fabric. Particles of dust twisted languidly through the air, glinting slightly in the light that did shine through.
They weren’t paying much attention to that though.
Upon waking (which they did simultaneously) both were totally lost in the feeling of being completely enveloped in each other’s presence. Were he a little more coherent, Barricade might guess that they had made their connection instinctively while unconscious, as bond mates were wont to do. As it was, he was too busy soaking up her presence to pay attention to what he’d learned at the academy.
She was soft and smooth under his fingers and her spark burned hot and inviting within her chest cavity. He felt her mouth searching out his own and met her halfway. The kiss sent shockwaves through his holomatter as well as his mechanic form. The feeling of his pulsing spark and heating internal components combined with the physical reactions of his human form and her mirrored sensations through the bond...it was intoxicating.
“Oh, baby...” He gasped against her parted lips. The thrill that went through her at his words rippled back through the bond to him, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He could feel her heart (or the pump Ratchet had replaced it with) pounding furiously in her chest. Blood and oil and energon rushing through her body to power her various systems, coolant and fans working to reduce rapid temperature spikes. It felt like being her or at least being inside her, which he suddenly realized from the ache in his groin that he was not.
She was already way ahead of him, pulling him down on top of her and spreading her legs for him. When they’d gone to bed they’d done so naked, and so nothing separated the hot, slick folds of her body from his erection. They both groaned at the sensation. Her legs went around his waist and her arms around his neck brought him closer. Barricade wasted no time in grabbing her hips and guiding them upward slightly so he could fill her.
He felt like maybe his spark had exploded. But if this was what it was like to be dead, he was perfectly fine with that.
Barricade couldn’t hear or see or feel anything that wasn’t her. It was overwhelming, all consuming and Primus, her spark was burning so hot between them he thought she might fry her circuitry. It was pulsing hard and hot against him, signifying her impending overload, and then her blessed organic body arched up and clamped down around him, sending him reeling mentally, physically, spiritually as the humans said…
He was so lost in the feeling, he didn’t even realize he’d climaxed until suddenly he snapped back into consciousness and found himself alone in bed, reduced back down to a single consciousness.
He was so wrapped up in trying to feel for her through the bond that it took a moment for all of his senses to load. The sounds and smells of the room were still coming back slowly when she reappeared in the bathroom doorway. She walked slowly and looked very much like the task took all her concentration.
“Oh, you’re alive. Good.” She noted, exhausted.
“Did you think otherwise?”
“Well, you were just lying there, cold and motionless, not responding…” He put his arms around her as she collapsed beside him. “I figured it was a robot thing.”
“My holomatter continues being generated even while I’m unconscious, but the image locks.”
She smiled slyly up at him. “I see. So, what you’re saying is that your little virgin processor was so blown by its first sexual experience that you blacked out?”
“Don’t look so smug. You weren’t that great.” He replied coldly, looking away from her.
“How would you know, virgin?”
“Because I never came, whore.”
“So you passed out from…what?”
“How awful it was.”
“Oh. Well then I guess I’ll just have to lay here and masturbate since you obviously don’t want to go again…” Her fingers trailed lightly over her skin to her clit. The low moan she let escape her made shivers run down his spine.
Barricade turned back to her and grabbed her hand away from between her legs. “Well, if I’m doomed to spend the rest of my existence with you, I may as well start teaching you how to properly-“
Her lips on his stopped his speaking. He pulled her body tight against his, kissing her in a way that was almost desperate. She gently pushed him away.
“Wait, wait. Don’t get all excited. Ratchet said our bond would try and complete itself. We need to be careful.” She sighed. “We can’t do this again.”
“The bond has nothing to do with it-”
“No. I’m sorry to get you all worked up and not follow through, but no.”
“Cock tease.” He ground out.
“I know. I’m a whorish, slutty, cock tease.” She rolled her eyes.
“You forgot indecisive.”
“Shut up ‘Cade.”
He opted to do as she requested and fell silent, but then realized he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands or if he should put them anywhere at all. Hadn’t he just lain with her a some hours previously. This hadn’t seemed so hard then. He was probably over-thinking it. He just needed to be natural. The current location of his hands was probably fine.
Taking a deep (and unnecessary) breath, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. She didn’t respond negatively, so he tentatively continued. The soft lips on her temple, and insistent fingers tracing shapes on her thigh eased her rapid pulse. She leaned into the touches and made a small confession. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“If the base isn’t safe, where are we going?”
“Idaho.”
“Eww.”
He chuckled. “Korea spoiled you, didn’t it?”
“It really did. Canada at least had snow, which was pretty, but Potato Land can’t compare.”
“Potato Land?” He looked down at her, amused.
“You know, Potato Land; the starchiest place on Earth?”
This earned her another chuckle, surprising her.
“You understand my Disneyland allusion?”
“I understand vicariously through you that it is amusing…and now I’m feeling nostalgia for Disneyland.”
“I don’t need a play by play of my own emotions, thanks.”
He reached up to play with her hair in the brief silence that followed, and then decided, “We’ll need to leave in an hour or so.”
She groaned in response, and he smiled.
***
“I want to die.” She whined.
“Yes, and I want you to die, but we can’t all have what we want.” Barricade growled.
“If I see another square foot of flat land I’m going to scream.”
“Then close your eyes.”
“Shut up, you prick!”
“You shut up!”
“B-b-both of you, shut up!” Frenzy stuttered out. She turned to glare at him. Perhaps the little boom box might have been endearing if he hadn’t recently put a ninja star in her chest.
“Stay out of this you over-grown can opener!” She shot back, then coughed violently when her voice cracked.
Barricade touched careful fingertips to her collarbone in worry. His concern was sweet, but she was okay. Really. Or at least, she thought she was until she tried to tell him as much and collapsed into another coughing fit.
Her throat had been getting progressively sorer and sorer all day, and the coughing wasn’t helping. It had bothered her all day the previous day as well, but then had seemed fine after their little escapades that morning.
::You should remain silent and consume large amounts of fluids.:: He told her through the bond.
She huffed in frustration. ::No, really?::
::Your sarcasm is unnecessary.::
::Your existence is unnecessary.::
::Fine…bitch…::
::You know if you don’t turn off your comm link I can hear your thoughts, right?::
::I wanted you to hear that. Kind of like how you sometimes mutter obscenities under your breath so that I will hear them without it sounding like you’re outright swearing at me.::
“You know that you aren’t using a p-private channel, right?” Frenzy asked with a mechanical sigh.
::When have I ever done that?:: The woman in the passenger seat glared at their driver, ignoring the small bot seated behind them.
::Part of you is still a human femme. You’ll do it eventually!::
::So you’re a sexist now?::
::Please, keep rambling. Give me an excuse to pull this car over and tear you apart with my bare hands.::
::“This car?” You are spending way too much time pretending to be a human.::
The couple stared hard at each other for a moment. His brown eyes held just a tint of red from the light of the setting sun, and it made her wonder for just a fraction of a second if he’d been serious about dismembering her. Barricade seemed to pick up on this since he rolled his eyes just before his hologram evaporated in the shimmering, dusty way he liked it to.
The cab stayed filled with an awful, palpable silence even after her hands began stroking the seams of his interior lovingly.
::Asshole.:: She thought at him through the bond. ::Now I feel like a bitch.::
::You are a bitch.::
::At least I’m not a slag-sucking traitor.::
::Hmmm.::
I'm already working on chapter three, so it should be up soonish. By Wednesday at the latest :)