Xeno

A/N Hey, peeps. I've come to the conclusion (Uh yeah, took me long enough??!) that posting my xeno silliness as oneshots really is silly. They do actually form a semi-coherent arc, and some need to be read in order and it might be confusing and/or tedious to have to read backwards through these to figure out what's going on.

SOOOOOO. Executive decision: I'm compiling both the Barricade/June and Starscream/Jennifer stories (the plotlines, you'll see, intersect) here in this story. And slowly deleting the oneshots they're replacing. I'm sorry if you're expecting new--there WILL be new, but right now, today, I just want to get this set up.

I apologize for those who have read these fics before--not trying to trick you into a reread, just trying to be more common sense and user-friendly to new readers! Thanks to all of those who have read and reviewed these stories, and I hope you agree that having them in one place does make more sense--why didn't I think of this sooner? *facepalm*.


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Barricade couldn’t help it. He could smell the pheromones from June and it aroused him. He’d been around her for weeks, and the warm weight of her body, the soft touch of her skin—her fingers, her thighs—were driving him to distraction. He knew it was wrong. More than that, he knew that acting on it, he could ruin everything. Big, disgusting pervert.

But when she came out in that dress, he knew he had to do something. Her hair had been done up in some intricate style, the dress lapped at the curves of her hips, giving him a frustratingly brief glimpse of her calves. The dress, swishy, heavy, blue grey, cut low across her chest, her breasts rising like half moons that moved, ever so subtly, when she walked. She even walked differently in those shoes, more of a sway, like everything he couldn’t stop watching about her was suddenly in constant motion.

He drove her to the party, snarling to himself so loudly that she’d asked him if there was something wrong with his engine. He was in a foul mood when he let her out, and watching the sway of her hips—and those tantalizing flashes of ankle—as she walked away, guaranteed that he sat there for the next few hours aching with frustration.

“Oh,” she said, collapsing into the seat, “Just take me home.”

“Have a nice time?” he tried hard to sound nice. He figured he failed, so he put himself in gear and began driving her home.

“Not really. Incredibly tedious. Have to be nice to the dean’s wife, which means complimenting her cooking, and then there’s all the other people you have to be nice to. And then there’s Axelrod, that perv, who spent the night staring at my chest.”

He felt his capacitor clutch. Who was this Axelrod? How dare he? He debated checking his police database to find out where this guy lived. “It, uh, it is eyecatching. Your chest.”

A strange look crossed over her face. He didn’t know how to read it. “Really? You’ve been checking out my chest?”

“Uh, it, umm, it moves.”

She looked down the front of her dress.

“When you walk. Hard not to notice.”

She laughed. “For a moment there, I thought you were hitting on me.” Barricade cursed. He’d blown it, without even knowing.

She bent down and pried off her shoes, hiking up her skirt. “Ahhh,” she said, wiggling her feet. “That’s better.” Barricade could sense the bare flesh of her leg, even though the dress itself didn’t block much sensation. He wanted to touch her smooth yielding skin, so different from his hard plating. He growled again.

“Barricade, is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted through tight labial plating.

“Because you’re making that weird engine sound again. Maybe being on Earth isn’t good for you.” It was definitely not good for his hormones.

“I’m fine,” he said, turning into the driveway. The garage door squealed its way open. “You’re home.” He parked in her garage, and popped his door.

She sat still. “Barricade, I’m not really smart at this, but I can tell when something’s wrong. Can’t you tell me what it is?” He was prepared to eject her from the seat, until her fingers traced the contours of his steering wheel. His whole chassis shuddered.

“Please,” he said tightly, “You have to get out.”

She paused, debating a protest, but got out of the car. The heavy swish of the fabric of her skirt, and the sudden removal of the heat of her body sent another shudder through him. “Something’s definitely wrong,” she said. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what.” She folded her arms across her chest, boosting her bosom even higher. He groaned. And transformed into his robot mode.

“It’s like this,” he began. But then faltered. How to explain his strange kink? Maybe just be blunt. “I want to interface with you.”

“Interface? Like sex?”

He ducked his head. “Yes.”

She gave him a dubious look. Probably sensible—he was about three times her size. “I’m not even sure how that’s possible.” Barricade caught himself—that wasn’t a rejection. She didn’t say no. She didn’t look repulsed. She seemed…intrigued.

“Uh, I can show you. No pressure on you,” he added hastily. “This is our interface hatch. We have an external module and an access port.”

“So, you’re like both genders?”

“We don’t really think that way, but yes, I suppose the analogy could work.”

“Can I?” She reached out and touched his interface module. The ready-lights along its side already glowed bright green. Her fingers felt almost scaldingly hot against its surface. He made a sound deep in his throat. “And this?” She traced the access port with her other hand. He quivered. “Wow,” she said. Barricade wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. She seemed simply..curious. He was about to explode from desire. He didn’t know if he should press her or not. So he stood there, dumbly, as she maddened him with her exploration.

“You,” he finally gasped. “How do you interface?” Anything to give him a moment of relief from her maddeningly erotic hands. So small compared to his.

“Oh, right.” She flashed a smile at him. “Guess we’re playing doctor, right?” She thought for a moment. “It’d be easier to show you if I lay down, okay?”

“Fine.” He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but still. He could feel his interface module throb.

She swirled her heavy skirt around her, hiking it up, while kicking off a small black garment. He could see, and oh Primus, he could smell her. Warm and sweet. “Only one part per human, I’m afraid.” She smiled up at him, like this was a joke. Barricade bent over her, his hands on either side of her head. “I want you,” he growled. “Please.” She looked down over her body at his interface hatch. “I-I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to….” He quieted her, tracing one finger down the line of her dress, prodding gently at the giving softness of her breasts. Exquisite. “Let me worry about it,” he said. She tipped her head up, looking him in the eyes. “Yes,” she said. “Okay.”

He eased his interface module out of its socket and pressed it against her—whatever they called it. Like a strange access port. He pushed in. She gasped, her hips rising off the floor, her hands clutching at his forearm. He closed his eyes at the sensation—her access port was warm and wet and resilient. It moved seemingly of its own will against his module. Oh, this was better than he’d imagined. He’d never imagined what their ports would be like. Not like…this. He braced one of her legs apart with his own leg, feeling the satin skin of her thigh against his plating. He gave a slight pulse with his datastream, testing her response. No good if he hurt her. He’d already decided he wanted her again. And again. He couldn’t risk damaging her. He’d hold back, if need be.

She gave a startled ‘oh!’ at his pulse. “You felt that?” he asked. “What the hell was that?”

“Datastream. Good?”

Her eyes half-lidded. “Very good.”

He let off a little control, letting the datastream pulse a little harder, a little faster. Her response was…incredible. She moaned, and writhed, and her breath started coming in sharp, fast pants. Her hands clutched at his arms or toyed with the seams in his wrists. It was fascinating and erotic at the same time. How did they do it? What would happen? Suddenly, she arched her back and gave a thin almost-scream. Her hips jerked up, in a quick, insistent rhythm that matched the powerful internal pulses her access port gave to his module. Too much—he overloaded, harder than he thought possible, his lust sharpened by the long delay.

He came to a moment or two later. She was still breathing hard, her whole body flushed. A slight gloss of sweat covered her skin. He could smell her spicy-sweet human scent, her pheromones, mixed with his own energon from his overload.

“Hurt you?” he asked.

Her smile was dreamy. “No.” She reached up to brush his cheekplates. “What happened to you? You went…blank for a minute.”

“Uh,,it’s what happens when we…uh.” He knew a variety of vulgar expressions for it, but they didn’t seem right to use.

“So, it’s normal, then?”

Ah, she got it. “Yes. Normal.”

“This why you were acting so weird tonight?”

“Yes.” He dropped to one side, tracing her body’s shape with his free hand. “It is hard to explain.”

“What? Sex?” She laughed. “Think you did a pretty good job.”

“No,” he said. “Xeno is considered a perversion for my kind.”

“Xeno…? Oh, right. Yeah, well, hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings, but I’m not going to run out and tell everyone I just had sex with my car.”

“Wrong,” he said, relieved. She got it, she understood him. She really did. Even more than her body, even more than her alienness, this is what drew him to her. “Your car had sex with you.” He wasn’t ready, but he pushed another pulse of his datastream to his module. She quivered. “How the hell—?” She looked down.

Barricade held up the cables that connected from his hatch to his module. “I should,” he said, “disconnect from you.” He went to retrieve his module, his fingers fumbling in the slick wetness. Primus even this was turning him on. He’d have to stop tonight. Or he would hurt her. He ended up tugging it out by the cables, though he didn’t want to when he saw how her body responded. She moaned, her hips arcing toward him. No, he told himself. Another time. Show restraint. You’re a xeno perv. But show some control. SOME control. The module came free in his hand, dripping with energon from his overload. “Hrm,” he said.
“Hrm?”

“Your access port does not intake energon?”

“Ummm, no? So, this is like your first time?”

“With a xeno? Yes, actually.”

“Really?”

“I, umm, in reality. I have a good imagination though.”

“Not good enough to imagine, what did you say? ‘access ports’ that don’t take in energon?”

“Well, no.” He felt his cheekplates heat up. So awkward. With anyone else, he’d be mortified.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t even get that far,” she said, lightly. “Looks like everything works, right?” She pushed herself up on her elbows. “Neat! It’s blue!”

“Neat?” She froze him in place tracing her finger down his module, collecting a fingertip of the stuff. She sniffed it, delicately, unaware of the tremor she’d set off in Barricade. He shut his eyes, but not before he saw her touch the tip of her tongue to it. She was going to be…hard to resist. He wanted her again, right now. “Does it hurt?” he blurted.

“It?”

“The energon? Is it causing you discomfort?”

“No. It’s a little…tingly, but that’s all.” She licked the rest of it off her finger. “So, is that how it works—you exchange energy?”

“Yes.”

“How do you decide who’s the boy?” She sat up, crossing her legs and pulling the skirt over her lap. Not that it hid much from his sensors. But at least his optics were spared the sight of his energon seeping from her access port.

“We don’t.” He squatted back, taking the opportunity to stow his module. If he let her touch it again, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself. He’d clean it later. “It’s mutual. One port, one module—we connect both with our lovers.”

“Huh. So…isn’t doing it with a…xeno…kind of only getting like half the experience?”

“I don’t get any energon from you, true. But that means I can concentrate on my own experience.” He grinned. “I’m selfish like that. And I found giving more…gratifying than receiving.”

“Surely you can find, you know, your kind, that like receiving more than giving?”

“Very rare. It’s actually quite painful to be aroused and not be allowed to…well, to be connected.” Skirting another vulgar expression.

“So—if this isn’t totally rude—how have you, you know, gotten by? If that’s not really your thing?”

“I endure double-connects. Better than nothing. And, I—I fantasize a lot.”

“Do others know? About you?”

“They suspect. Which is why I’ve never acted on it before. Afraid of getting caught.”

“Not afraid now?”

“I won’t tell, if you don’t. I hope that doesn’t sound insulting.”

“Like I said, I’m not going to run out and tell everyone my car’s a better lay than my ex boyfriend.”

“June,” he said, serious. “I would like very much to interface with you again.”

“Now? I’m not sure I could handle any more of you.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s been a weird night. It’s a lot to take in.” She started laughing. “In more ways than one.”

“Not now. Later. But again.”

“So, live up to all your xeno fantasies?”

He picked her up, pressing his facial plating against her body. He could feel her heartbeat, the softness of her breasts shape around the hard lines of his face. “Not all of them. I think we’ve only gotten started.”