Megatron has special private time!

In case you're wondering who this totally pervy Musashi character is who is suddenly dropping all this TF stuff on you: I suck at writing sex scenes, so I kinda thought that if I wrote short, fairly pointless giggly sex scenes about robots, I'd get over my prudishness. Is it working?!

What was he going to do about Starscream, Megatron thought. The Air Commander’s insubordination was becoming intolerable. Even with Megatron’s continual force, humiliation, and punishment, he didn’t feel that Starscream had learned his place. Certainly, the jet was obedient enough to Megatron’s desires—he submitted meekly to everything, every humiliation Megatron forced on him, every pain, every punishment. But still, there was a spark of resistance he could not quell in the jet.

And, to be honest, Megatron certainly enjoyed the jet’s submission. He called up some of his favorite memories—Starscream, thrown on his back, spattered with Megatron’s overload; Starscream’s writhing body, desperate to connect, denied his own overload, and whining from the agony.

Still, Megatron missed the jet’s module. Starscream did not deserve to connect with him, not yet. But he missed the hot, light pulse of the jet’s datastream. Oh.

Megatron opened his interface hatch idly. His module’s ready lights glowed ready-green. He touched it, gently, feeling the datastream throbbing from its tip, skipping one of his thumbs across the tip. He could just imagine the feel of Starscream’s access port—the tight fit of the connection, the snug rubber sealing collar. His module pulsed a brighter green. He touched his own access port, feeling his own sealing collar, prodding into the connector. If Starscream were here, maybe he’d let him…just for the sensation.

But Starscream wasn’t here. And these idle thoughts had raised his desire beyond being able to push it aside. He wanted…overload. Simply that.

He roughly jerked his module out of its socket, turning it so that it plugged into his own access port. Ahhhhh. He rolled the sealing collar down snugly over his module’s tip, bearing down on his datastream. Fast and light, like Starscream. So unlike his natural hard, heavy throb. Ah! He grunted as he struggled to control the datastream’s rhythm, but his own awakened desire fought against him. His own pulse took over, hard, solid pulses. Ah, this is what Starscream feels from me, he thought. Thinking of the jet’s reaction to his own module, Megatron shot into overload, the small energon hose jerking in steady pulses as it forced energon through the module, into his own port. Oh, such perversion, he thought. I shall make Starscream pay for driving me to this. He closed his eyes, feeling the energon cycle through his access port. He jerked upright at the loud clearing of vocal processors.

“Barricade!” he yelled, as if he somehow thought if he yelled loud enough, the smaller bot would forget what he’d seen.

“Show up at a bad time?” the smaller bot said, sardonically
Megatron jerked his module out of the access port—hissing at the almost-pain of the sudden disconnect. “Report,” he said, sharply. Barricade merely watched him, one eyebrow raised.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“What in the spark do you mean by that?”

Barricade stepped closer. “Recycling your own energon. Doesn’t do much to relieve the desire, does it?”

“You’d know,” Megatron said, hotly. Everyone suspected Barricade has some crazy fetish. If he weren’t so good at what he did….

“Yes,” Barricade said, flatly. “I would.” He opened his own interface hatch.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Megatron sat up, closing his hand over his access port. Barricade pushed his hand away.

“Just explained it to you.” He pushed his module into Megatron’s access port. Smaller than Starscream’s, Megatron noted, almost unwillingly. The sealing collar did not have to stretch around it. Megatron jerked upright. Barricade’s datastream was different—a hard push, followed by a lingering vibration at a lower frequency. Unlike his own. Unlike Starscream’s. Megatron felt his own module respond. He grunted at Barricade’s datastream pulse. He squeezed Barricade’s shoulder, feeling the robot’s smaller, lighter frame. Frail compared to Starscream—one good hit, and Barricade would offline, at least temporarily. Barricade had to know that. Took some kind of courage to plug himself in uninvited. Megatron felt his energy field tingle with something like respect for the smaller bot. But Barricade had been right—recycling his own energon hadn’t brought him any relief. His own module was green lit. He reached for Barricade’s access port.

“No,” the smaller bot said, swatting his hand away. He gave a harder pulse to his datastream.

“You refuse me?” Megatron’s voice grew dangerous. Frustrated.

“Not that way,” Barricade said. He took Megatron’s module into his mouth. Megatron could feel the smaller bot’s glossa twine around his module, making a tight seal, almost like the collar of an access port.

“This way?” Megatron asked, gruffly. His datastream couldn’t resist the simulated access port collar of Barricade’s glossa, and throbbed heavily into Barricade’s mouth. The smaller bot—it must be true. Pervert. Megatron wondered what his fetish was. Why he didn’t double-connect. Not that he minded. This…this was good. The sight of his module in the other robot’s mouth made his module pulse harder, his access port squeeze against the bot’s smaller module. Oh, he’d have to make Starscream do this. The jet’s glossa wrapped around his module—Megatron could see the humiliation in the jet’s eyes. Oh, yes.
Barricade’s gaze was steady, as if he could imagine that Megatron was labelling him a hundred different kinds of perversion. No hint of shame. No hint of humiliation. As if he could see Megatron’s lust for Starscream in his eyes.

Barricade’s eyes flickered closed. His glossa constricted around Megatron’s module, and Megatron felt the hard cold rush of the other bot’s overload energon flood into his access port. It had been—how long? His own overload followed, his module thrusting its energon into the other bot’s mouth. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Barricade’s face, as the other bot took his energon. He groaned, his hand clutching behind Barricade’s head.

Barricade’s glossa unwound from Megatron’s module, slowly. He pulled it from his mouth. “Better,” he said, flatly. Almost as if he hadn’t just swallowed his leader’s overload. No humiliation. As if that was exactly what he’d wanted all along.

Megatron slumped back against the chair, still in the throes of his overload, his mind full of how he could replay that with Starscream.

Barricade disconnected his module from Megatron’s port. A little leak of his energon, mixed with Megatron’s, coated the inside of the sealing collar, colored the tip of his module. He looked altogether too relaxed.

“Pervert,” Megatron hissed, tucking his module in his hatch.

Barricade tilted his head, meeting Megatron’s eyes steadily. He lifted his energon-coated module to his mouth, and slowly traced the tip with his glossa, tasting their blended energon, tweaking the tip of his own module. His frame shivered from an aftereffect of the overload on his sensitive module. “Yes,” he said, simply.