An audience!

(Okay, the raunchy is actually pretty tame in this one (oh, don't worry, I'm not running out of kinky ideas!!!). Just thought the premise was funny. In fact, the whole story (even the raunch) is so completely over the top, I hope you find it funny too. This was a gigglefest to write!)


“I tell you, we’re picking up a Decepticon signal,” Ratchet muttered into his comm. On the other end, Optimus sounded concerned. “One,” Ratchet said, answering Optimus’s question. “Nearby. Don’t have eyes-on. The signal’s hard to pinpoint.” Another burst of concern from Optimus. “Yeah, we’ll be careful. I’ll tell Ironhide.” He cut the comm.

“Wants us to keep looking?” Ironhide asked, hopefully. He hadn’t kicked Decepticon skidplate in too long. Itching for a fight.

“Wants us to be careful,” Ratchet qualified. Ironhide snorted. Arcee rolled up. “Chase still on?” she asked. Ratchet nodded. “Good. I think I have it narrowed down to that park over there.”

“Odd place to hide.”

Arcee shrugged. “Last place we’d think to look, really.”

“Good enough for me,” Ironhide said, shifting into vehicle mode. “Get the others and follow me.”

*****

Barricade didn’t understand this human thing, or at least June’s thing, with sunsets. Once you’ve seen a few planets’ worth of weather systems, they all ran together. Still, she wanted to see the sunset from the promontory. He wanted her. He was hoping the two would come together at some point.

And so he crouched on the bare ground of the state park’s ‘lookout’ road, June leaning on his arm, her hands twined around his arm’s control cables. He could feel the warmth of her body on one side, and the warmth of the dying sun in front of him. He preferred her warmth. And her softness. He moved his arm, microns, feeling the softness of her body shift around him—her bosom compressing against his armor. He wanted her. He always wanted her. He was in a state of continual readiness to take her. If she only knew. It had been…centuries he’d spent fantasizing about a xeno like this. She was just about every one of his fantasies come true. He felt like he was making up for lost time. Or trying to.

A slight breeze rippled the hem of her sundress against his leg. Even that aroused him. He lifted his arm up, out of her grasp, and pulled her against his side, his hand stroking down the arabesque curves of her side—the firmness of the ribcage giving way to the soft indent of her waist, and then the padded curve of her hips and down her silky thighs.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. “I know, total cliché, but you really look like something’s on your mind.”

“The usual,” he said, shortly, tracing one finger up her leg, under the hem of her flowery skirt.

She laughed, squirming, but not trying to get away. “You’re awful, you know that?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

She frowned. “Not what I meant.”

“I know. Still true.”

“Stop that,” she said. “Not true. But,” her voice took on a teasing tone, “I’ll have to apologize to you. In a way you can understand.” She brushed her fingers over his interface hatch. His eyelids shuttered closed for a second. This. This was more like it.

“I might manage to forgive you,” he said. “Depending.” He opened the hatch for her. “Should I wish you luck?”

“I think you better just skip to the ‘I forgive you’ part.”

“And let you get out of such a…promising apology?”

She winked at him. “Going to make me earn it, are you?”

“Yes.” He guided her hand to his interface module. The ready lights were all green. They blinked insistently as she picked the module up. She ran her fingers over it, slowly. “So now,” she murmured. “What you did before, you know, with your mouth. What’s that feel like?”

“It,” he shifted on the ground, distracted by the touch of her warm fingers. “It, auh, well, which part?”

“Which part?”

“The module or…,” he couldn’t bring himself to name it, even though he’d done it, how many times?

“How’s it feel for the module, I guess. How do you do it?”

“Wrap the glossa like an access port around it. Datastream pretty much takes care of the rest.” He was glad he could sound so…disconnected from it.

She looked at the access port, considering. He hoped she wasn’t going to plug him in. That would NOT be an apology. Instead, she cupped her hands around the end of the module, where the standard access port sealing collar would fit. He felt his datastream pulse pick up. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he said, a little breathless. “Some bots have hands they can do it with. Mine, too big.”

“Mine don’t seem to be.”

“Not at all,” he moaned softly. “It’s better if you can activate the connector node in the end.” He rolled his eyes to the sunset, not really seeing anything.

He looked down when he felt a sudden wet heat on his node. June was holding the module up, licking at the node gently. He shuddered. “Do not do that,” he said, sharply.

“But this is what you said…?” She looked confused.

“Don’t,” he gasped, as she continued to flick the node with her tongue, “Not with…your…mouth.”

“Why not? Am I hurting you?” She looked up at him over the module, which pulsed hard in her hands, still forming a decent approximation of the sealing collar. Decent enough that his module didn’t know the difference. His datastream pulsed harder.

“Show…you…,” he said. “Just do it…with your…hands. You’ll see.” She lowered the module from her face, replacing her probing tongue with one of her flexible fingers. Primus her hands drove him crazy. Able to fit just about anywhere. Responsive. And warm. He gave a sudden sound like a hiccup, and overloaded. Energon shot from the end of the node, spraying hard. Half of it hit June’s side, dampening her sundress. Half sprayed to the ground beside her.

“Oh,” she said, simply. “I see.”

“Sorry,” he said, through the fade of his overload. “Didn’t think to get you out of the way.”

“Well, thanks for the warning, though. That would have been—a bit much to take, I think.” She looked down at her blue spattered dress and started laughing.

“You’re…not mad?”

“Partly my fault, isn’t it?” Primus he ached for her. It’s like he could do nothing that upset her.

“And,” he said, “Partly mine.” He picked her up, carefully. “See if we can salvage the dress.” He swept his glossa along the blue mass. Her breath quickened. “No big deal if we can’t,” she squeaked.

He looked up at her. “Let’s try anyway.” No sense being such a practiced filthy little pervert if he didn’t put it to good use while he could. He licked some of the energon into his mouth, and then kissed her, in that weird way they had developed, gently probing her mouth with his larger glossa. She whimpered, her fingers catching at his facial plates.

*****

“Think we’ve found him,” Ratchet radioed in again. “One Cybertronian signature. Not one of us.”

“What’s it doing?”

“Just…just sitting there, really.”

Arcee lay prone in a draw, looking up at the promontory with binocular optical extenders. “He’s not alone,” she said, quietly. “Human with him.”

“Hostage?” Ratchet asked.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Bumblebee came over. “Human? Can I see?”

“Oh by Primus what is THAT?”

Ratchet muttered, “Have to call you back,” and cut the comm. “Arcee, what’s up?”

She gestured him over, pitching her voice low. She handed him the extenders. “Look up there, on the ridge. It’s hard to see without nightvision, but…what’s he doing with the human?”

Ratchet looked. “Oh holy Spark is he…eating it?” The Decepticon was holding the human up to his mouth, looking like he was going to sink his dentals into her side.

“Human doesn’t appear to be struggling.”

“Sedated, maybe?”

Arcee took the binos back. “Not…quite.”

*****


June laughed, wriggling in his grip. He’d cleaned most of the energon off her, but now his glossa was making interesting forays up her skirt. She squealed, slapping at her legs. “Stop that!” she laughed, out of breath.

Barricade paused. “Stop me.”

She wriggled harder. “Put me down and I’ll stop you plenty.”

He gave her one last playful lick, tightening his glossa around her thigh before releasing it. He loved the feel of her flesh—muscle and skin. He loved the taste of it. And he could taste, already, that she wanted him. Which was just fine: He wanted her again. Already.

He placed her on the ground. “Happy now?” he teased. “Going to stop me, are you?” he goaded.
She laughed triumphantly. “Going to run away.” She trotted away from him.

He pushed after her, getting ahead of her path without really trying. Still, it was…interesting. He wrapped his hands around her waist. “Caught you.”

“So you have,” she said, looking down at his hands around her body, abandoning that game and switching to another. “What are you going to do now?”

“Take my reward, obviously.”

“Oh,” she taunted him. “And what’s your reward?”

He lifted her skirt with a trace of a nail. “Whatever I want, seems like.” He pushed forward, looming over her. “You know what I want.”

She threw her hands up. “Guess I have no choice then, huh?”

“Not really, no. Can make it easy on yourself or hard.”

She looked down at the damp spot on her dress. “Think I’ve already seen hard. How ‘bout we try easy?”

“Fair enough.” He pushed her off balance, so she was sitting in one of his hands. The ground here was rocky, and he didn’t think it would feel good for her to lie on it. He uncoupled his module with his other hand. He paused. They had been playing, but he was always afraid he’d cross the line and do something that shocked or disgusted her. “You okay with this?”

“Always,” she said. Then her gaze got a bit more serious. “I’d tell you. Honestly.” She leaned forward, placing a kiss as close as she could reach to his face—mid throat. It tickled. “You worry too much.”

“All right, then,” he said. He spread her thighs with the fingers of the hand she was sitting on and eased the module into her. She gave a sigh, and sank back, like her whole body relaxed at once. He could feel from the heat and wetness—alien heat, alien wetness—how she desired him. That…that soothed him. She wasn’t pretending. Her body didn’t lie.

He controlled his datastream’s pulses—which, he thought, he probably wouldn’t have been able to do if he hadn’t already overloaded. She wanted it easy. He’d make it easy. Gentle and easy. And slow. He closed his eyes for a moment, revelling in the feel of her. Just what he’d always fantasized about. Perfect. His module pulsed a little harder against her. Her breath picked up, and she clutched his hand, the one she wasn’t resting against, to her chest. He could feel her heartbeat, the softness of her breasts, the heat from her gasping breath, held between his hands.

He froze. He heard a sound. In the woods down in the draw below the promontory. She caught his freeze. “What,” she whispered.

He waited for a moment, all of his senses online. Nothing. “Nothing,” he said. “But, since we are rather…exposed, maybe you should try to be quiet.”

“Maybe I?” she began. He silenced her with a pulse of the datastream. She bit down on the whimper. “Okay,” she breathed. “Got your point.” He leaned forward and brushed her mouth with his. “Thought you might,” he murmured. Her hands pulled him toward her, exploring the armor of his face, trailing down his throat. His datastream was getting the better of him: he wouldn’t be able to hold back an overload for much longer. She writhed in his hands, biting her lips. The feel of her body twisting in his hands sent him over the edge. He overloaded. She felt it, and lunged up, sinking her teeth into one of his neck cables. He could feel the scream she muffled against him, and the tiny pinch of her teeth. He held her there for a long moment, until he cycled out of the overload.

She released the cable, sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said.

He rotated the shoulder. “Not a problem.”

“My turn to ask if I hurt you.”

“My turn to answer no.”

*****
“What’s going on?” Bumblebee asked. “I want to see.”

Arcee’s voice sounded strange. “Bumblebee, why don’t you go by the perimeter road. Make sure Decepticon reinforcements don’t surprise us.”

“Arcee…” Bee whined. Ratchet said sharply, “You heard her, Bumblebee. Order.”

Bumblebee kicked at the dirt, and stomped off back up the draw.

Ironhide rolled over. “Want to tell me what that’s all about?”

Ratchet handed over the binos. “See for yourself.”

Ironhide clicked in disbelief. “Barricade’s a xeno? Primus. I knew these guys were twisted, but….”

“What about the human?” Arcee asked. “What kind of human finds him,” she shuddered unpleasantly, “at all attractive?”

“Apparently that kind of human,” Ironhide cracked. “She certainly doesn’t seem to be suffering.”

“Oh, I think she’s fighting back—did she just bite him?” Arcee squinted up the hill.

Ironhide chuckled, watching the Decepticon’s sudden immobility with something like horrified amusement. “Not….not exactly. You don’t want to know what brought that on.”

Arcee guessed right. “Oh no. He…he overloaded? With the human?”

“Looks like it,” Ironhide said cheerfully.

Ratchet signalled he was going back a few paces. He buzzed Optimus.

“Status report,” Prime said. “We’ve been a little worried that we haven’t heard from you.”

“Everything’s fine. Uh, Prime, we’ve got a…situation here. Need your advice.”

“Situation? Is everyone okay? Is Arcee okay?”

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. Look.” Ratchet sucked in a breath. “No normal way to say this, so—turns out Barricade’s got a xeno fetish. He’s up here. With a human.”

“With a human? Doing wha---OH.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Thank the spark he didn’t have to explain any more. “What should we do? We could probably take him out.”

A long silence. “No,” Prime said, finally. “Let him go. He’s not harming the human, is he?”

“No.”

“It’s not much, but at least we have one ‘Con who doesn’t hate humans.”

“That’s….not the way I want to think of it.”

“Take what we can, sometimes, Ratchet.”