Revenge is a dish best served...weird.

A/N: items between // brackets// are mission commnet--the three 'cons can hear, but Bumblebee can't. I've been doing vicious and raunchy sticky porn: this was supposed to be meaner, but I was feeling silly after all that mean. Cute. You heard me: cute prisoner sex porn. :P

****************

//Is this really necessary?// Starscream complained over comm. //You know how I do not like gravel in my verniers.//

//I don’t care if it’s necessary or not,// Blackout murmured into the jet’s throat. //I’m enjoying this.// He ran his hands down the jet’s rib-struts, feeling the Seeker shiver under his touch.

//It is…// the jet murmured, vaguely, as Blackout’s glossa worked under his collar armor, //not unenjoyable,// He tipped his head back, resting hard against his elbows. The copter knelt over him, rotors sweeping the ground behind him, twitching in desire, one hand on the jet’s shoulder.

//He’ll be here shortly.// Barricade, over what he figured to be his most egregious misuse of mission commnet ever. Okay, to date. He liked to keep those things open-ended. //Keep it up.//A soft snicker.

//I do not understand why we need to do this, though.//

//Horny Autobot, sees three Decepticons. Likelihood of weapons coming out, high. Horny Autobot sees two Decepticons interfacing, well, let’s just say his…curiosity will get the better of him.// Barricade’s own ‘curiosity’ was definitely getting the better of him. More often than he wanted to, his binos kept drifting back to the pair. His module had already pinged him twice.

//I understand that part—I do not understand why we must make it so…authentic.//

//I’m a method actor,// Blackout muttered, nipping at a plate of the jet’s shoulder armor. //And why the frag not?//

//You’re not telling us YOU’re shy about an audience?// Barricade, in full snark. Hey, they were having all the fun, the least the jet could do is stop bitching?

//It is easy for you to say, safe behind cover, Barricade.// Yeah, safe behind cover. Alone. Feeling…frisky.

//That’s my point. Someone’s going to have a weapon on our little yellow pest til we’re sure of his motives. Now shush and make it look good. And make a little noise. Your audience has arrived.// Barricade cut comm and leaned over the rock he’d chosen, the pulse rifle tracking the advancing Autobot.


*****
“Gaaaaaah!” The sound startled Bumblebee almost right off the road. What was that? He should investigate. It was one thing to be mad at his fellow ‘bots, embarrassed by them, but another to let their mission slide. If there were enemies around, Bumblebee would take ‘em. Then maybe they’d stop treating him like such a sparkling.

What the--? He crested the next rise and squealed to a halt. In the dip below him—were they fighting, Blackout and Starscream? They were rolling on the ground together, limbs flailing. As Bee watched, the jet rose up triumphantly, half-sitting on the copter, holding one rotorblade by the end. Victory? Not quite. Bee watched the jet lick his way up the blade toward the mount. The copter squirmed, moaning, his hands reaching for the copter’s thigh armor.

Oh Primus…they were making out. Those two? Blackout sat up, yanking the jet on top of him, hands reaching for the jet’s engine mounts, pulling the jet’s face to his. Definitely making out. Part of Bee wanted to collapse laughing, wishing he could vid this for the others. But another part of him stirred. Primus, they were hot together.

He squirmed watching them kiss. The jet leaned forward over the copter’s head and planted a fierce series of kisses—almost bites—on the copter’s engine. The copter at first arched his back in surprise, and even from here Bee could hear the engine cycle up in desire. Blackout retaliated by licking teasingly at the jet’s cockpit. Bee’s own engines weren’t exposed, but he shivered, as if he could feel the jet’s glossa on his own engine. His hand drifted to his interface hatch.

The copter moaned again—something Bee didn’t see set him off—and he sat up, snatching both of the jet’s wrists in one of his larger hands. He drove the jet back, landing hard on the jet’s twin engines, pinning the jet’s wrists to the ground over his head. Blackout looked down at the jet triumphantly.

This looked…familiar to Bee. More familiar when the copter flipped open the jet’s interface hatch. Bee’s fingers coasted along his own module, taking it from its housing. Its ready lights glowed brightly, almost blinking under his touch. He ran his fingers around the module’s tip, where it would fit into an access port, and shivered, watching as the copter snatched the jet’s module up and plugged it into his access port with a shudder that shook the ends of his rotorblades.

*****
//How much longer must we keep this up?// Starscream complained. //I am running out of ideas.//

//Really? You? Thought you Seekers were more creative than that.// Barricade shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his angle on the yellow ‘bot. He really had to stop glancing back at those two. Serious distraction.

//I have many ideas, but not so many that are visible from the road.//Oh. Well didn’t that just make Barricde’s sensornet shiver? Stop thinking about the fucking jet. Literally: Fucking. Jet.

//I don’t know,// Blackout added, breathlessly. //You could do that thing with your glossa and my gun again…. Whoa! Yeah, THAT thing.//

//You know, Starscream, you are the only mech I know who complains about interfacing.//

//That is untrue, Barricade. Need we replay audio?//

//Yeah, Mr. ‘I hate this’,// Blackout interjected, his breath still ragged. //Luckily we’re used to ignoring 50% of what comes out of your vocalizer.//

//Merely fifty? Blackout, you are too generous. I ignore everything he says.//

Barricade growled. He was getting them laid and this is how they thank him? Blackout especially. Damn copter was too shy to approach the jet, even though he and Starscream had already done it before. Didn’t want to ‘be pushy’. Please. Starscream needed pushy. Or else he got…like this. //Back on task. He’s…quite interested.//

//We are on task. I am merely questioning how much longer I can keep this up.//

//You touch my rotor assembly one more time, jet, and you’ll really have issues ‘keeping up’,// the copter muttered.

//Really?// the jet said, dryly.

Barricade didn’t have to look to see what happened next. But he did anyway. What? He hated to admit it, but they were kind of hot together. Sure, the jet was a total tease with the copter, and Blackout, well, his ineptitude had its own appeal, and was probably the reason the jet teased him at all. He watched the copter retaliate, throwing Starscream to the ground and looming over him, reaching for his interface hatch. Barricade shifted uncomfortably, imagining just a little too well the look of submission and desire on the jet’s face. Shut up, he snarled at his module.

Right, back to task. He swung his binos back to where the yellow Autobot now crouched, his module openly in his hand. Poor thing didn’t have any idea what to do with it, so he was stroking it idly, quivering as one or another clumsy random touch sent a shock through his sensor net. His eyes were glued to the two Decepticons, who, Barricade noted, at this moment probably wouldn’t notice if Unicron himself showed up wearing a lobster bib. The jet had seized the copter’s module and they lay tangled in a quivering pile of limbs, double connected, hands squeezing at each other, mouths fierce.

RIGHT. Barricade yelled at himself. The yellow one. Dammit, should have set a vid recorder for later. Too late now. He slipped down from his cover, moving low and crouched over the rocky ground.

*****
Bee whimpered in frustration. He knew—somehow—he vaguely remembered there was a way to do this. His module’s throbbing was becoming unendurable, and rubbing it with his thumbs only seemed to make it worse. Everything seemed to make it worse. Even doing nothing: it’s like the air itself stung at his module. He searched past through the strange fog in his cortex and another memory bubbled up: a glossa skillfully wrapped around a module, teasing at the interior node, squeezing the module’s body. Whose? His own? He flexed his glossa in his mouth experimentally. It could work. But who had he seen doing that? Where had that idea come from?

Optimus? He tried to match the image to Optimus. No, that was just…wrong. Though part of Bee quivered at the thought. Optimus with a module in his mouth moaning….. His module throbbed again. All right, not Optimus. Ratchet? Ironhide? Prowl? None of them seemed to fit either. Especially Prowl. That was just…scary-wrong. And for a klik the agony of desire faded in his module. Prowl was just like walking buzzkill. If he did it at all, he probably did it in the dark. In a closet. In dead silence. Certainly nothing like the noisy and thrashy spectacle below. Damn but that copter was noisy. No wonder they had to come all the way out here to do it.

He looked at his module, the lights racing back to the tip again, winking at him as if they got some joke he didn’t understand. Who was it? He reached the tip of his glossa experimentally and touched the module. His whole pelvic frame gave a shudder. Oh. That was gooooood. His eyes drifted closed. But who? Where had he gotten this idea? He knew half these ideas weren’t his, none of the memories were…. Just the desire was his.

Barricade. The image popped into his mind. Barricade’s glossa, spiralling around a module. His body gave another twitch, just as if he had tongued his module again. He hated the damn ‘con. But still. Oh Primus that was so hot. Barricade’s glossa around a module.

His eyes flickered open, afraid he’d missed something in the show below, and saw—Barricade standing right in front of him, grinning down at him over the muzzle of a pulse rifle. NOT the image of fantasy.

“Whatcha got there, son?” Barricade said, loudly, mockingly, as he reached over the gun and snatched the Autobot’s module from his shocked fingers.


******
Bumblebee was a pretty quiescent captive, as Barricade expected. Well, with your module in the other mech’s hand, how uncooperative do you think you can be? Barricade led the Autobot down the valley face, using the module’s connector cables like a leash, tugging the Autobot to follow.

In the valley, the two finally overloaded: Blackout with another of his loud roars, his rotors nearly fully expanding, before he collapsed on the jet’s torso, his face held between the jet’s hands. What Starscream’s thing was—why he was always so intent to stare at Blackout’s face, Barricade didn’t know, but he filed it away to study later. Just like…everything he’d just missed. By the time he’d joined them on the valley floor with their new captive, they were stirring out of overload, Blackout gingerly pushing himself off Starscream, as if afraid he’d crushed him.

Yeah, Barricade thought. Didn’t do that when you were pressing the life out of me.

Blackout leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the jet’s mouth, almost shyly, before backing away, disconnecting their modules. The jet began to move, slowly, in that heavy-lidded catlike way he did that just snarked ‘sated’ all over. Which did not improve Barricade’s mood.

Blackout rose at his approach, putting on his looming giant pose. One thing the damn copter could do in his sleep is manage to look big and threatening. Good, because Barricade didn’t have high hopes for his acting skills.

“While you two were busy,” he scowled at the sheer lameness of his dialogue, “I caught this dangerous Autobot on our perimeter.” Even he had to admit this wasn’t his best set-up ever. But he’d had…what? A quartercycle to come up with and execute? It would be a little cornball. But it would work. Reports didn’t exactly place this Autobot as any sort of surplus in the processor department.

Starscream bit down on a laugh. “Good work, Barricade. That could have been,” he gave a delicate cough, “inconvenient.” Blackout started choking, which ruined his menacing posture. Starscream attempted to mask Blackout’s slip by, Primus no, ad-libbing.

“Your little exploration into alien entomology,” the jet said, gesturing daintily with his talons, “has caused us considerable trouble. You, in a word, little Autobot, owe us.”

The yellow runt blurped. Oh, right, this was the one who couldn’t talk. Well, that would remove the tedious ‘bargaining for his life’ stage Barricade had been so dreading. Fine. He could salvage this. “Should just kill him. Warning to the others.” He shot a hot glare at Blackout, who was nearly gnawing his knuckle to keep from laughing out loud. Oh, he’d get the copter back.

//Know where you recharge,// he said on commnet to the copter.

Blackout winked down at him. //Come on over any time, Barricade. Still planning on adjusting your attitude the old fashioned way.//

Well! Barricade shivered. Didn’t expect that. The jet was a shameless flirt, but the copter—either he’d suddenly gotten a PhD in come-ons, or he was dead serious. Barricade couldn’t figure which was more disturbing to his peace of mind.

“We cannot kill him, Barricade,” Starscream cut in, smoothly, elbowing Blackout, who had missed his cue. “The Autobots would use it to escalate the war. Three of us, killing one lone and very small and very ineffectual and very garish and very puny and very pathetic,” (he kept stringing out adjectives until the Autobot flinched), “Autobot youngling.”

Barricade had a hard time getting the next line out. “So, what’s your idea?”

//Leader,// Starscream said over commnet.

//What?//

//The line would work better as ‘what’s your idea, leader’. You may throw in a complimentary adjective at your discretion.//

//How’s about ‘what’s your idea, narcissistic space dorito with delusions of grandeur’?//

//Hmmmm, we shall perhaps just keep it as it is.// Aloud, “My idea is simply that we find a more…creative way to punish him.”

“Fuck him!” Blackout chimed in, brightly. Barricade slapped his forehead. Right meaning, wrong words. Blackout’s seemingly mysterious smoothness—evaporated like a mist. “I mean,” the copter said, “get back from him what his stupid etymology took from us.” He looked between the two of them to see if he’d salvaged his line right. “You know, basically, fuck him.” He shrugged, lamely.

//Stop. Now. Or I am going to blow a gasket trying not to laugh,// Barricade commnetted.

//I suspect I have already blown one,// Starscream added. //Whatever you do after the war, Blackout, please do not act. And Barricade, do not write stories.//

//The gratitude here kills me. I gave you both good lines. Which you fucked up. Etymology. Primus. And someone here didn’t get laid. I could’ve written myself in with the damn jet, you know?//

Blackout’s eyes narrowed evilly. Aloud, “Autobot, Barricade was the most seriously injured. Do him first.”

//I hate you so very, very much.//

//What? Weren’t you just complaining about getting laid?//

//NOT by the Autobot!//

Bumblebee was staring at him, confused. “Ignore him,” Barricade said. “Copter’s got a few wingnuts loose in the processor. All that vibration from the rotors.”

“No,” Starscream seconded, tossing Barricade’s admittedly hastily crafted script out the window after setting it on fire. “I would very much like to see this myself.” The jet squatted closer to the ground. “Go on.” He gestured with his talons, nudging Bumblebee closer to Barricade. The yellow bot stepped in, unsure, his eyes flicking to the module Barricade still held in his hand. And back to the rather lethal looking spines on the back of the jet’s hands.

//Starscream, I am going to fucking kill you.//

//Half right, Barricade. You will come to my quarters intending on yelling at me, and we will end up interfacing. In the midst of that I am fairly confident of extracting forgiveness from you.// What the hell was this—Hit On Barricade day? First the copter, now the jet? How come this day never seemed to roll around before? The jet winked. //I can see the future, you know.// Starscream reached over and took the pulse rifle from Barricade’s other hand. //Now, I should like to see the present.//

Barricade looked down at the yellow bot, swallowed hard. He did not want to do this. He figured the only bot who wanted to do this less than he did was the Autobot. The jet was supposed to go first, since the worm had infected him. Not…Barricade. Not with the way Barricade had to interface. He shifted on his feet.

The yellow mech bit his lower labial plate. Half of his processor still held charged images of Barricade. Not here in the desert sun, but on the floor, writhing with a module…pinned against a wall, forced into a hard kiss…slowly, teasingly licking a module. He wondered.

Barricade tried to jump back, but the smaller bot was too fast for him, and the yellow bot pulled his mouth to his before Barricade could manage a resistance. He involuntarily squeezed the module in his hand, causing Bee to moan, pushing his glossa hard against Barricade’s mouth.

Over commnet, //Can you believe this, Blackout? Do I see Barricade being submissive to the little Autobot?//

//Sad, isn’t it? All talk and no action. Seriously. It’s different when it’s us, because he has no choice, but with someone smaller than him….//

Barricade growled against the Autobot’s mouth. He’d show them. He yanked the Autobot against him, his fingers prying under some of the armor plates, seeking the sensitive joins in the plates behind his neck, while his other hand began stroking the edges of the module. He felt the Autobot quiver against him, whining softly. The yellow bot’s hands crawled all over him, at first curious, exploratory, then more sure of themselves, demanding. The bot tweaked his door wings’ mountings, hard, causing Barricade to gasp, breaking the kiss.

//Oooooooo I shall remember that one. Blackout, did you know about the mountings themselves?//

//Not really. This is getting pretty educational.//

Barricade didn’t like the sound of this at all. Worse when Blackout reached over and twisted his wing fairings himself.

//Whose fraggin’ side are you on?!//

//The one that wants to see you get laid.//

“Agreed,” Starscream said, switching to voc. “Enough delay, Autobot.”

*****

Bee was…confused. Mostly at himself, though this whole situation sure seemed weird. He hated Barricade—he distinctly remembered beating the living snot out of the mech a few times—and here he was, kissing him, and…kinda turned on by it. The black armor was slick to his touch, glossy, and the silver spires of his facial plating gleamed like hot chrome. And his glossa probed the yellow ‘bot’s mouth more gently than he’d expected. He felt the talons of one hand probing under his armor—the small points of the claws going where his more blunted fingertips couldn’t. And the other hand…had gone from an authoritative squeeze on his module to a series of feathery caresses. What was going on here? He couldn’t think straight enough to figure it out.

Still, he was…plenty aroused. The memory of the twins was on the top of his cortex, but underneath it rode a swell of just pure desire. He whined, his hands clumsy on the Decepticon’s hatch.

“Assist him, Barricade.”

Bee noticed the Decepticon shooting Starscream a vile look, but he opened his hatch, frowning. Bee was a little shocked to see how eagerly he grabbed for the ‘con’s module. This was the enemy. But…the enemy was turning him on, his face now buried in Bee’s throat, glossa probing at the throat’s sensitive cabling. He plugged the ‘con’s module into his port with a shiver at the sheer audacity and wrongness of what he was doing, even while part of his memory told him he had had the 'con before.

And that…somehow, Barricade was different.

All further thought on that note ended at the hard pulse of the ‘con’s datastream against his sensornet. Already keyed up, Bee’s knee stabilizers quivered. Barricade braced him against his chassis, lowering him to the ground.

Bee expected the ‘con to lay down with him. On him. Near him. Something like that. Even the twins had been all over him. But Barricade dropped to the ground next to him, staying almost his entire connector-cable’s distance away. Bee reached out, his hands desperate to touch the other mech. The datastream’s rising pulse was driving him crazy, and his own module throbbed in the ‘con’s hands, beginning to hurt.

*****
//Are you going to?// Blackout’s voice.

//Haven’t decided yet.//

//Obviously.// Starscream, showing again his leadership qualities of sarcasm.

//What do you think I should do?//

//It’d hurt him more if you didn’t. Mess with his head though if you did it. Pretty sure he’s been thinking about it.//

//What makes you sure?//

//Primus, Barricade, everyone who’s ever done it with you thinks about it. So it’s gotta be in his memories somewhere. It’s ridiculously hot.// Barricade blinked, stunned. Hot? Really? He thought it was just a perversion they tolerated.

//Blackout is right, Barricade. It is a…unique experience.// The jet reached over and idly spun one of Barricade's upper tires, smirking while the smaller mech moaned, his hand tightening over the module. //We shall make it worth your while.//

Peer pressure sucked. Especially peer pressure that involved that kind of bribe. Still, if he was going to perv out the ‘bot, he’d better do it right. Bee was already writhing on the dirt, his vocalizer blurping weakly to Barricade’s datastream rhythm. Barricade held up the module, and, once he was certain he had the bot’s attention, slowly licked his way up the length.

The Autobot groaned, his hands clutching fistfuls of dirt. Barricade winked, and licked a spiral around the module this time, allowing his glossa to cling to the end in a tight seal, giving a firm squeeze before he released it. The bot spasmed on the ground, whining. Frag it: he’d done this to Megatron. He could handle one puny Autobot.

Barricade spiralled the length of his glossa down the module, tweaking the inner node. Then, while the bot watched, he tucked the thing in his mouth. Give the Autobot something that would ruin regular interfacing for him forever. He squeezed the module just out of synch with his own datastream, making it impossible for the bot to come into synchrony. He, however, had no such competition, and, with a groan in his throat that seemed to excite the Autobot, he overloaded into the Autobot, one hand clutching the ‘bot’s thigh. He squeezed his glossa hard, to hold the module during his fadeout. The bot’s turn. If he was going to do this right. Barricade rubbed his glossa along the module, and the module along his mouth, picking a nice even beat. The ‘bot writhed on the ground, pawing at Barricade, but afraid to touch him. With a metallic shriek, the small bot overloaded. Barricade tasted the rush of cool fluid in his mouth. Yuck. Autobot. It did not taste the same at all.

Swallow it anyway, he told himself. Just energon. And then, no…. He leaned forward, module still in his mouth, and kissed the Autobot. The bot froze, feeling his own connectors, his own module, and his own energon as Barricade thrust it into his mouth, unspooling his glossa as he went.

He flopped onto his back, disconnecting his module from the stunned Autobot, whose own module dropped to his lap in surprise.

//Blech,// he said over commnet. He felt a shadow fall over him—Starscream, who tilted his head back into a kiss, tasting the remains of the Autobot’s energon in his mouth with his fast, poking glossa.

//You are right,// Starscream said over commnet, mouth still locked on Barricade’s, //That is unpleasant.// Barricade expected the jet to pull away, but Starscream bent further toward him, one long talon drifting to his wing fairings. //But it was impossibly arousing to watch.//

*****
Bee sat, numb. What the frag was happening? Had…Barricade…just…? Primus it had been just like he remembered. Except those weren’t his memories. Whose were they? He blinked, picking his module out of the dirt. In front of him the enormous Seeker was pawing at Barricade, long talons tracing light, teasing lines around the armor plates. Enough to start the greenlights marching up Bee’s module just watching.

No, this was sick. They were the enemy. What the hell was he thinking? How would he explain to anyone what just happened when he wasn’t even sure what in the holy Spark was going on himself? And how could he explain, even to himself, how much watching Barricade moan and writhe under Starscream was turning him on? They’d call him a glitch. Bent.

He wasn’t the only one watching Barricade and Starscream. The copter was watching with keen interest, but the yellow mech caught his eye when he moved. His eyes traveled up the copter—twice his height.

“Hey there, little guy,” Blackout said. “My turn.”

Bumblebee’s panicked brain sent him unhelpful images tinged by lust—the copter looming over him, the pounding throb of a datastream, the copter’s body hard against him. But not him. Someone much, much bigger. Almost as tall as the copter himself.

“Let me explain something to you, ‘bot.” Blackout settled himself on the ground next to Bee. This maybe wasn’t so awful: did the ‘con just want to talk? He certainly didn’t seem to want to tear his eyes off the jet and Barricade, who was thrashing as the jet toyed with his drivetrain tires. He heard Barricade’s muffled curses, and what seemed like laughter from the jet. Bee blurped assent at Blackout. “Right. See, that worm you found. You remember that? You know it’s been causing all sorts of hell. Your fraggin’ leader gave it to Starscream, and Starscream hurt the hell out of Barricade with it. Which is, we think, at least partially your fault.” Bee had a flash of memory: Barricade, writhing, screeching, on the floor. He? Had his worm done that? “Damn near lost my arm, too,” the copter tilted his head, showing shiny-new mesh energon hoses down his left side. “Kind of your fault. Figure least you could do is…you know, make up for it. Seeing as you’re having some effects yourself.”

Bee tilted his head. He must not be understanding what Blackout was saying. He was supposed to…what?

Blackout shrugged. “We like to think win-win.”

Bee turned back to Barricade and Starscream. The smaller mech was trying to scramble away, like a crabwalk, from the Seeker, who crouched like a cat ready to pounce. Barricade turned, and the jet lunged, playfully snatching one foot, and dragging Barricade back toward him. The smaller mech reached a hand desperately to Blackout, howlingly entreating help.

“Ha! You’re on your own,” Blackout muttered, aloud. “We have our own project for you.” Bee wondered what that meant. Normally, he’d presume it was bad—but Barricade didn’t seem to be getting maimed. More like…tickled. A loud metallic squeal: Starscream was licking the smaller mech’s trapped foot and ankle. Blackout grinned down at Bee, “Barricade’s got intimacy issues.”

Blackout suddenly didn’t seem so scary. He seemed kind of…friendly. And Bee had flashes of memory about him he didn’t know were true or not. Something kind of quivery in a maintenance room. And…had the copter really meant he should…? Would it be that bad? He was still frisky even after Barricade. After the twins even. Would it be different with a much bigger mech? Suddenly the copter’s rotors, splayed on the sand behind him, looked appealing. Tempting, the way they twitched sometimes. Bee remembered Starscream licking his way up one rotor. He reached to touch it.

Blackout twitched, his ventilation catching. He froze, waiting to see what the yellow Autobot would do next. Bee continued his exploration, tracing a line up the inner side of the blade, as high as he could reach—almost to the mount. The copter shuddered.

//Uhhhh, guys? I think the yellow one is making a move on me.//

//So? You want an award? Most Desirable Decepticon?// Barricade’s sarcasm was cut off by another audible groan as Starscream nipped his way up the back of his leg, pressing Barricade belly first into the ground with one splayed hand.

//A little help, maybe?// Blackout whimpered as the Autobot’s hands fell to his shoulder armor, tracing the plates in long, slow lines.

//Alas, Blackout,// Starscream said, //Barricade is unable to assist you as I have him in a compromising situation and he has not yet finished compromising.// Another squirming squeal from the smaller mech. //But I am confident you can fend off his vicious attack on your own. Or…not.//

//Starscream, I am gonna—ohhhhhhhOOOOH!// Well, there went any hope of help from Barricade. Poor little guy didn't stand a chance against a determined Seeker.

On my own, Blackout thought. Typical. Way to get your battle buddy’s back, guys. But he had to admit, the yellow ‘bot’s exploratory touches were…seriously. They were driving him crazy. Light and feathery, like Bee was afraid he’d break. “Look here,” he turned to say to the Autobot.

The aggressive little bug grabbed his face as he turned, and pulled him into a kiss, his other hand reaching for the rotor mount. Blackout whimpered against the Autobot’s mouth. This was seriously weird. But, watching Starscream and Barricade had certainly had an effect on his own sensor net and all that rotor touching hadn’t helped. His hands came up to the yellow bot’s shoulders, brushing his wing fairings. The bot quivered. Blackout’s hands continued his exploration.

Bee shocked upright as Blackout brushed against his ankle tires. No one had ever done THAT before. The copter grinned—an unsettling expression on his facial armor—and bumped Bee flat onto the ground with the back of one hand, snatching both of the ankles up from under him. Blackout toyed with the tires, spinning them in their mountings, first slow, then fast, enjoying Bee thrash on the ground. “Teach YOU to touch a copter’s rotors,” he muttered. “Seriously. Get yourself in all kinds of trouble doing that, Autobot.”

Bee squealed, flailing his limbs as Blackout bent over to nip the rubber of one tire. One of Blackout’s rotors flopped forward over his shoulder. Bee seized it, frantic. The copter jerked upright, eyes ablaze with…not anger.

“Just warned you about that. You are just asking for it, Autobot.”

Bee dropped the rotor, grabbing instead for the .50 cal on the copter’s chest armor.

“Yeeeeowch! Why you little….” Blackout flinched back. Didn’t the bot know you didn’t go around grabbing another mech’s gun like that? Sensitive. Seriously. Especially after Starscream had done…that…thing…. He flattened Bee with one hand. “Apologize. That fraggin’ hurt.”

The yellow Autobot stared up at him, blankly. “Seriously,” Blackout said, pointing to his chest gun. “No touch! Bad!” He wagged his finger in Bee’s face to make his point. “Bad Autobot!”

//Of course they are bad, Blackout.// Starscream said, blithely. //That is why they are the enemy.//

//You’re my fraggin’ enemy, jet,// Barricade snarled.

//But I am not bad, Barricade.// Starscream said, coyly, //I am good. I am very, very, VERY good.// Blackout didn’t see what Starscream did, but the growling moan from Barricade sure made him sorry he missed it. //If your Autobot is being naughty, Blackout, you should discipline it.//

//Like to discipline you,// Barricade muttered.

//You are welcome to try at any time.//

Blackout could hear the catlike smirk. //Count me in,// Blackout said. //On Barricade’s side.//

//I shall tremble in fear.//

//You’ll tremble in something, all right.// Blackout turned back to the naughty Autobot. He wagged his finger, admonishing. “Don’t touch that!”

Bee reached up and snatched at Blackout’s fingers, drawing one into his mouth, glossa exploring Blackout’s ridged finger eagerly. The copter quivered. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, rollerskate,” he growled. In response, the yellow ‘bot reached to open the copter’s interface hatch, his hand eager on the module. Blackout squirmed. Somehow this wasn’t how it was supposed to go down. He was easily twice the ‘bot’s size and more than three times his weight. How was it the yellow mech was having his way with him? He groaned as the ‘bot coupled his module into the access port, the interior node lighting up happily.

Bee approached him with his own module, pausing while one of his smaller fingers traced a long slow series of circles on the sealing collar of Blackout’s own port. Blackout whimpered, frozen on his hands and knee-struts, quivering as the Autobot connected. Blackout’s stronger pulse took lead, his rotors starting to flare in time. The yellow bot beneath him began exploring into his neck armor and between his chest plates with the same maddeningly light touches, tracing cables, teasing the hypersensitive undersides of armor plates. Blackout cried out, his arm servos jumping locked-straight, feeling the Autobot trip into overload underneath him.

Blackout faded in, the small yellow bot still prone underneath him. He focussed his optics on the bot, who reached, slowly, teasingly, and with a light finger, traced the barrel of the gun. Blackout groaned.

This was weird-hot. Seriously.

*****
Barricade had decided that sometimes surrender was the better part of valor. He didn’t think there was a handspan on his frame that the jet hadn’t teased with his talons or glossa.

“Now, Barricade,” Starscream said, triumphantly, bracing him under the reverse joint in his leg. “I have you at my mercy, which you should begin to beg to be infinite.”

“In your fraggin’ recharge.”

“Defiant to the last, little droneling?” He laughed softly as Barricade bridled at the name. “I think it is time once again for you to beg.”

“Already did this one, with the fraggin’ worm.” Barricade shook his head, trying to clear the creeping memory of Starscream, stalking him, menacingly. Not like today. Today the jet had been taken over by the post-coital giddies.

The jet’s eyes clouded over for a moment—he seemed to have trouble remembering what he’d done under the worm’s influence. After a pause, he bent over Barricade’s audio. “Ah. That is precisely why we should do it again. Neither of us enjoyed that.”

“Right. Like I’m going to enjoy…whatever humiliation you’re going to get from me this time? Last time you made me sing the theme song to Seeker Cadets in the middle of the maintenance bay.”

“Ah! Now THAT I do remember. Alas, I shall have to think of something else. Your singing voice is horrible.” He squinted down at Barricade appraisingly. “What shall I have you do?”

“Already made me do the Autobot.” Barricade squirmed under the Seeker’s leg, trying to free at least one of his hands. His wrist tires got jammed in the small space.

“True,” the jet mused, tapping his chin with one long talon. With his other, he idly stroked across Barricade’s chassis, teasing the headlamps, feathering over the grill. Barricade’s ventilators hitched. “And I suppose that makes us even: You made me do the xeno.”

“Oh, you wanted to do that. And I only made you kiss her.”

“No matter,” The jet waved off his objections, airily. “I have thought of it.” He shifted his weight, letting Barricade free one arm. Just enough for the jet to click open his interface hatch. The jet bent over, his cockpit grazing Barricade’s knee. “I want an engine rub. With wings.”

“Ask the copter. He’d do it for you for free. Probably get laid, too.”

“First, Barricade, his hands are too large. Second, you are also doing it for free. And third,” he plugged Barricade’s pinging module into his access hatch, “you are also getting laid.”


*****
Starscream growled and threw himself on the yellow Autobot, pushing Blackout, who had been stupefied by the ‘bot’s exploration of his armor plating, aside. The jet snatched up the ‘bot and fired his jets, spinning with his captive into the air.

A slightly wobbly Barricade meandered up to Blackout, who pushed himself up to sitting. “Do I want to know what that’s all about?” the copter said, squinting into the afternoon sun.

Barricade shrugged. “Either wants to scare the coolant out of the ‘bot or, more likely, he’s just getting his engines dirty to make more work for me.”

“He’ll be back?”

“Oh yeah. I had to promise him an engine rub. He won’t miss out on that.”

“Really?” The copter’s eyes glinted. “Want some help with that?”

“Was SO hoping you’d ask, copter.”

A long moment—the jet flew a dizzying display of barrel rolls and stalls. Faintly, they could hear an electronic whine, like a scream, drifting through the thin air. “Hey, Barricade?”

“Yeah?”

“That was weird.”

Barricade grinned. “Seriously,” he teased.

****
Bee squealed. This was either the most exciting or terrifying moment of his life. The other two had been…weird. Starscream, though, he was fraggin’ scary. Sure, he may have been pouncing on Barricade as a joke, but suddenly, at a few hundred feet altitude and cruising faster than Bee’s eyes could calculate, nothing seemed very funny. If the jet released his hands right now…. Bee found himself clutching at the Decepticon’s arms. Not…afraid. Okay, frankly terrified. But…maybe the ‘con didn’t have to know that.

The jet finally came in for a landing, swinging his long legs under him, leg servos bouncing to take the sudden weight. Blackout and Barricade turned to watch as he strode toward them, the Autobot’s legs dangling limply from his arms.

Barricade knew what was going on—the jet had taken his module, holding off on his own. Right now, the jet’s sensor net was probably red-pinging him with low level alarms. Which he was taking out on the Autobot.

Starscream flung the yellow bot to the desert floor with a gesture of contempt. All playfulness seemed gone. He dropped to his knees, landing one against the Autobot’s chassis. The two other ‘cons noticed how careful he was to drop most of his weight on his other leg, merely jouncing against the bot’s slight frame with his knee.

“Now, Autobot,” he hissed, his eyes slitted and red. “It is my turn.”

//Oooh, Starscream,// Blackout said, //This is totally working for me.//

//You think so?// the jet commnetted back. //How effective is this?// He flashed one hand in front of the Autobot’s face, flexing the barbs so that they glinted in the sun. The Autobot’s eyes tracked the glints with undisguised alarm. He traced one against the yellow bot’s jaw, the metal squealing against the bot’s paint. He rested another talon under Bee’s chin.

//Knife play,// Barricade commented. //Very sexy.//

Starscream turned to where they stood, looking over his shoulder. //Sexy? Really?//

//I think so,// Blackout chimed in. //Not that I’m into that kind of thing, but…well…maybe?//

The jet paused, evaluating the spectacle of his hand, flexing the barbs in the sunlight. //It is…eye catching.//

//Uh…your prey is trying to escape, speaking of eye-catching.// Barricade said. He leaned back against the copter’s hip, arms folded across his chassis.

//‘He will have even less success than you,// Starscream said, airily. He pinned the twisting Autobot down, driving one hand into the ground up to the end of the barbs, his knuckles acting like a staple, pinning the bot to the ground. “Going somewhere?” He leaned closer. “You do NOT try to escape, Autobot filth. You do not move without my permission. Do you understand?” He pressed his knuckles down. The yellow bot squealed, nodding desperately, barely daring to ventilate.

//Primus I don’t know whether to laugh or to be turned on.//

//Narrow-minded, Barricade: I’m managing both.//

//Will you two stop your commentary? You are ruining my masterful performance.//

Barricade rolled all four of his eyes at Blackout. //Ooooooh, let’s you and I just shut up and watch the master at work.//

//That is more like it,// the jet said. “NOW,” he said to the yellow ‘bot. “We have had our fun. However, now you must pay.” Bee trembled, his eyes quivering. All thoughts of how he was going to explain this to the others had been pushed out of his processor by the very very solid certainty that the jet was going to kill him. Starscream’s eyes spiralled in, bright red and malevolent. He made a strange noise, which caused Bee to press himself further back into the hard earth.


*****
//Kind of fuck it up when you start laughing, you know, O masterful performer,// Barricade said, mildly. //Do I need to come over and give you some more hints how to dominate someone?//

//You speak very boldly for a grounder who owes me an engine rub. And who knows all the words to the Seeker Cadets theme song.//

Blackout snorted. //I remember that! ‘Flying high above the ion storm…!’ //

//Oh shut the frag up, the two of you!//

//Come on! I don’t remember how the rest of it goes!//

//Blackout, if you get that fragging theme song stuck in my processor AGAIN, you will have trouble such as you have never seen before.//

//Empty, empty promises, Barricade.//

Starscream snickered, and started humming.

//Primus on an oyster cracker! Would you STOP THAT?!//

//I am merely waiting for my additional instruction on how to dominate someone.//

Barricade set his shoulders impatiently. “Really,” he said aloud. “Here’s how you do it.” He knelt over the yellow mech. “Remember me? Huh?” he pushed the jet’s hand away from the Autobot’s throat, straddling the yellow bot’s chest, pinning Bee’s head between his thighs. He grinned down over his body at Bee’s prone form. “Think you’re done with me, do you?” The smile flickered off: Barricade backhanded the yellow mech. Not hard—just enough to unfocus those dopey blue eyes for a klik.

Starscream’s hand traced a line down Barricade’s back. Barricade turned to glare at the jet, but found the jet’s mouth on his.

//Kind of ruining the effect, Starscream.//

//I am sorry, Barricade, but you are so impossibly hot when you get aggressive. I had forgotten.// Barricade quivered again. What was today? Freak Out Barricade Day? Opposite Day? Normally he couldn’t get a mech to look at him sideways, and now both Blackout and Starscream were coming on to him? Blackout was right: WEIRD.

//Fine,// Barricade said, leaning back along the bot’s body, his head resting on Starscream’s wrist. //You like aggressive? Kiss the yellow freak.// The jet leaned over him, the hand he wasn’t pinning the Autobot down with flat on the ground by his shoulder. Bee tried to squirm away, thrashing his head from side to side, but eventually gave in, a small moan bubbling in his throat. Barricade heard a ping by his audio: the Autobot’s module again. Already. Was anyone NOT attracted to the damn jet? For about the thousandth time in his life, Barricade wondered what it was with the Seeker’s mysterious attractive powers.

Barricade reached for the Autobot’s module. Starscream lifted up obligingly. //Want to really spin him up?//

//Oh yes,// Starscream said. //Do it.//

//A little tease first.// Barricade gave the module a long, lingering spiral lick with his glossa, then held it up to the jet.

//You truly are a pervert, Barricade,//’ the jet said, but his voice was envious. He mimicked Barricade’s teasing lick at the ‘bot’s module. Beneath him, Barricade felt the Autobot tremble with desire. The module pinged in his hand.

//Ready to go from ‘pervert’ to ‘depraved’?//

//I’m ready to see this, for what it’s worth,// Blackout chimed in. He’d settled on the ground to watch.

//Watch and learn, copter.// Barricade licked showily at the module again, then pulled Starscream closer, their glossas tangling over the Autobot’s module. Bee quivered, moaning, transfixed on the spectacle. The ‘con he hated most and the one who still managed to scare his lubricant dry…doing…this….to his module. His optics rolled back, overwhelmed.

//Wooof,// Blackout said, levering to his feet. //Uhhh, copter’s going to go take a walk…or something….and think about…something. Seriously,//

Barricade laughed against Starscream’s mouth. The Autobot writhed as they teased his node, pinned hands trying desperately to wriggle free. //I think we’ll have to do this to Blackout some time.// He kind of shocked himself, speaking so easily of getting another chance with both of them. Even more shocked by the jet’s easily accepting answer.

//I think you are correct, Barricade. His reaction will be…entertaining.//

//Ahem! Commnet still open? Seriously. Trying to cool down here.// Being aroused got to be very uncomfortable for a mech, especially as there was no way, by oneself, to release the pressure.

//You, at least, have that option. And we won’t do this to you.// Barricade reached behind him, plugging the module into the ‘bot’s own access port. Bee quivered in time to his own datastream, as his systems forced an overload.

“You are wicked,” Starscream murmured in Barricade’s audio. “But he is mine now.” Reluctantly, Barricade pushed himself off the ‘bot’s chest, retreating to watch the jet take the ‘bot’s module in his dangerous looking hand. Bending lower, the jet’s bronze glossa circled the access port. Bee bucked, a high whine in his vocalizer. Starscream prodded gently at the collar, causing the Autobot to twitch, bodily, in time to his light probes.

‘I’m…uh…I’m going to go find Blackout,’ Barricade said, suddenly. Starscream smirked. He looked up over the ‘bot’s body, optics half-lidded, and with one last lick that took in both module and access port, he shifted to plug his own module in. The ‘bot gasped, shivered, but the ‘con didn’t plug in his module.

*****
“Your turn,” the jet smiled, viciously. He licked the module, leaning over, extending the gesture into a kiss. Bee felt his own module between their mouths. He shivered. Oh Primus this felt so good. The other Autobots were fine, but…they were so pure and decent and considerate and nice and there was just something about his helplessness and the ‘con’s…perviness that was really getting him off. It was like with the twins, only about ten times pervier: The twins never pulled a weapon on him. For one thing.

The jet relented and plugged Bee’s module in, giving his own sigh of satisfaction. Bee squirmed expectantly. This was…just…who the hell could he tell? Who would believe him? Oh yeah, sure. Yes, sir, Optimus, I was driving across the desert and got jumped by three ‘cons…and…we interfaced. A LOT. They’d think he had heatstroke. At the very least Ratchet would run a full check on his processor to locate the malfunction.

What was his malfunction, anyway? This was STARSCREAM. Big, vicious, terrifying, and…whimpering with pleasure? Bee felt his overload surge towards his sensor net. He squirmed in anticipation and…yelped in frustration as Starscream coolly disconnected his module. The jet braced himself, and overloaded against Bee’s net with a soft moan.

Bee wriggled one hand free, clawing for his module.

“Oh no, Autobot. Remember. We are punishing you. You must feel punished.” The jet squeezed the end of Bee’s module with his glossa. “Do you feel punished yet?”

Bee squirmed, nodding affirmatively.

“YOU are not fit to judge,” the jet snarled, suddenly, his eyes glaring red, pressing down with his knuckles. Bee’s optics widened in fear. Why had he thought the ‘con was hot? He was crazy! The ‘con was going to kill him! He wished the copter was here instead. He was big, but nowhere near as scary. Worst thing the copter had called him was a ‘rollerskate’. “I will tell you,” Starscream murmured, “when you have been sufficiently punished.” He prodded Bee’s mouth with the end of Bee’s own module. “Come on, now,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and teasing, “you know you want to….” He flicked the connector cables, causing Bee to gasp. Bee felt his module’s tip against his glossa and moaned. This was just so totally wrong…and so totally turning him on. His eyes flickered closed again, whimpering.

“I think,” the ‘con said, his voice dangerously low, “you may have been punished sufficiently.” As quick as that, the module got reseated into Starscream’s port. And suddenly Bee figured it out: the ‘con had been buying time while his module reset so he could overload again. Devious, deceptive! Oh, wait, that’s right. Decepticon. It all made perfect sense now.

Still, it was a trick he filed away to try. Those twins thought they knew everything, huh? WRONG.

The delay, the tease, brought his second overload crashing down upon him like a hailstorm. He flailed his trapped limbs, howling incoherently through his vocalizer. The jet’s own overload washed through him again.


*****
A distant roar. “Oh,” Starscream said to himself. “It appears Barricade has found Blackout.” He smirked. The yellow bot had finally, in their delay, found himself unable to greenlight his module. What choice had the jet had other than to have him recharge? A while later, the others returned in Blackout, Barricade’s legs dangling out of the copter’s open door.

“What have we here? Did you kill him?” Barricade hopped out of Blackout and crossed over to inspect the curled up yellow form.

“Is it possible to overload someone to death? If so, possibly.” Starscream preened. “I am finished with him. But I wanted to verify with you before I let him go.”

“Huh,” Blackout said. “Something I’m not liking here.”

“What? That the ‘bot totally dommed you?”

Blackout frowned. “No. I mean, seriously. We just let him go? He rolls back to base and…it’s like nothing happened. I don’t know about you, but…not quite satisfying to me. You know? If he can like just pretend it never happened and stuff.”

“Blackout, in that mass of incoherence, I believe you have a point. It is unsatisfactory that the Autobot should be able to ignore this very…educational…incident in his life.”

“So…what you’re looking for is some way he can’t deny what happened?” They nodded. Barricade’s eyes glinted.

*****
“Where did you say you found him?” Optimus said, over comm.

“Police impound yard,” Sunstreaker said. “With a Denver boot. Unable to transform. But that’s not the most…bizarre part.”

“Which is?”

“Well, for one thing, he was tied in a purple ribbon. In a big, floppy bow. When I cut it off him, he had a message on his roof.”

“Message?” Optimus’s heart sank.

“It makes no sense at all, Optimus, honestly. I have even asked the human police if they could interpret it. They suggest that maybe it is some gang-related code.”

“What’s the message?”

“This will make no sense to you, but it reads ‘Rollerskate, thanks for the memories. Keep your worms to yourself though next time. XOXO S/B/B’. Any idea what that means?”

“Oh…dear.”