A/N: so I've been writing this angsty little miniseries on my LJ and the pairing's rather taken off, especially Barricade/Skywarp. It started out of guilt: I'd written a request for some pretty violent non-con on Barricade, wrote it, and then felt AWFUL about it. :( So, I decided I would write him happy!sex to clear my conscience. And then more. And then, some more. And then it gets kinda angsty. And the rest, as they say, is history. I'm tickled pink that others are loving and writing my OTP, and I figured, what the hell, maybe readers who like theirs will like mine, too. Since I kinda started it. ^__^ (I'm Ground Zero for a pairing infection, yay!!)

Fanon paints Barricade as either a rapist or the victim of repeated serial rape aboard the Nemesis. Neither is happy-making, though I do allude to both, so the fanon-nazis don't think I'm ign'int.

Barricade frowned over the datapad, hitting Starscream's recharge door-chime for the third time. He knew he was in there. Probably avoiding him. Probably knew exactly what Barricade wanted to talk to him about—the maddening incompleteness of his latest reports. Just location coordinates and munitions expenditures, and occasionally a casualty list. Missing the whole story part of the story. And THAT was the part the CIO needed. The rest was…Supply's problem. And Repair Bay.

He swore. Second in Command trying to avoid work and now him? Stupid mistake. Barricade had the overrides for every lock on the Nemesis. He punched in the code, impatiently and stepped through the door the instant it spiralled open.



That explained why Starscream hadn't answered his door. He was…otherwise occupied. As in, flat on his berth, wrists pinned by another jet straddling him. Starscream's hips were thrusting into the other mech's. This other jet's armor was matte-black, his wings sweeping down from his shoulders. The hands, though, were identical to Starscream's. And the face…similar enough to be twins. Another oh. One of Starscream's Trine.

Doing, apparently, what Trinemates do for a reunion.

"Come on," the black jet was goading. "All you got for me? After all this time?" He grinned triumphantly down at Starscream, readjusting his grip on his Trinemate's wrists as Starscream struggled to free his hands. His hips continued to thrust upward, at an almost frantic pace.

"If you would…stop pulling away…," the bronze jet gasped. His chain guns rang along the metal table of the berth as he tried to free himself. Apparently, Barricade surmised, NOT to fight back, but to hold the other Seeker still long enough to pound the hell out of him.

"Pulling away? Not me. Here. I'll prove it." The black jet locked down the joints of his lower body, completely immobilizing his lower frame. Starscream's thrusts hit him with force enough to rattle his bracing knees. He must have been pulling away before. Suddenly the black jet gave three sharp, short pants and then a shudder that moved his whole body. Almost immediately, Starscream cried out, arching his hips into one last thrust into the other jet's valve.

The datapad fell from Barricade's numb fingers, clattering loudly on the floor.

Two pairs of red optics whirled to him.

He bent down, quickly. "Uhh, I'll just…I mean. Didn't mean to….Uhhh, nice meeting you?" What the fuck was he even saying? The only thought in his cortex—the only conscious thought swirling in the rising fog of pure lust that the spectacle had awakened in there, was to get away.

Starscream freed his arm from his Trinemate's grasp, and coded the door. Barricade heard it lock behind him. No way he could hit the overrides in time. He rose to his feet, lamely clutching the datapad, as if it offered any protection at all.

"Barricade," Starscream said, his voice neutral. "Come here." Barricade heard the soft, almost inaudible hum of a subvoc connection: the two were talking about him. This did not fill him with good feelings. He inched forward, the datapad held in front of him like a shield. "What did you see?"

"See? Me? Nothing. I didn't see anything. I just came to get, uhhh, some detail in these reports and…I just got here." Another hum of subvoc. He quivered as Starscream's long hand curled around his shoulder.

"Barricade. You did not just get here, did you? And how did you get in?" Starscream snatched the datapad from him.

"Overrides," he said, feeling suddenly sheepish. "But I didn't mean to interrupt, you know, your…uh…your reunion. Or anything."

"You did interrupt, though," the black jet cut in.

"Yeah, well, I'm really sorry. Look I can come back later for these reports. It's really not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," the black jet said. "No one interrupts us."

Barricade froze, feeling acutely the size and armament difference. Frag it, he didn't even have a range weapon. And they both had guns, missile launchers and talons. Against his…tirespokes. Oh frag. He was doomed. He braced himself. At least he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"No one interrupts us," Starscream corrected, pulling himself up onto an elbow, gasping as the move disconnected his spike from his Trinemate's valve, "Without paying a penalty."

Barricade flexed his talons, waiting. Above him, the black one started…laughing?

"Skywarp," Starscream said with a hint of impatience, "you are ruining the effect."

"I'm sorry: he just looks so scared."

"He should look scared. We have a lot to catch up on. And," the bronze jet looked up at Skywarp, considering, "how long has it been since we shared a grounder?"

Shared? Fuck fighting. Barricade bolted to the door, his talons slipping against the keypad in alarm as he tried to enter the override code. A pair of hands descended on his shoulders. He dropped low, spinning on his heels and bolted—almost into a pair of bronze legs. He skidded to a halt. The two jets surrounded him, his eyes even with their pelvic plating. Which made him really worried. He was small: he was weak, and other mechs sometimes decided that that combination meant…well, very bad things for his self esteem. What little he had. The last thing he needed was forced humiliation from a jet, much less two of them.

He braced himself, throwing out his spoke weapon. "I'd rather fucking die!" he cried out, desperately.

Skywarp straightened up, breaking his ominous pose. "Is he okay?"

Starscream shook his headan."He has always been a little paranoid. Not undeservedly so. But this time," and the jet rushed in, scooping Barricade off his feet before the smaller mech could strike, "very undeservedly so." He held Barricade still, and approached Skywarp, who ran his long cool talons down Barricade's central dorsal line, the thin points of the digits teasing armor plating. Barricade shivered at the unexpected sensation. No, this was just a set up.

The talons curled around his throat, probing under his grille. A moan escaped his mouth. He felt his head tilting back, tilting his chest up into those probing fingers.

"I don't think he gets a lot of this sort of attention."

"More new ground for us, then." He felt a hand hard on the back of his helm, and gritted his eyes closed, grinding his teeth together. Instead of a hard spike, he felt the warm, soft pressure of a glossa against his labial plating. His eyes fluttered open. Starscream, eyes demurely closed, kissing him. Kissing him? His mouth opened, and he shivered again at the new sensation of a glossa exploring his mouth, teasing his own. Hesitantly, he probed the jet's mouth, hearing an answering growl in his throat. Meanwhile the other mech's hands continued their exploration of his chassis, his legs, the sensitive joins under his arms. His spokes retracted as Skywarp's talons brushed Barricade's wrists. He thought of those hands holding Starscream's down, and shuddered. But not out of fear this time.

This, he knew, was not going to last. But…but maybe he could enjoy it while it did?

He raised his hands, exploring shyly Starscream's face and jaw, his own small talons teasing out ventilation ducts on the underside of the jet's jaw that had Starscream purr with pleasure. Maybe…maybe if he kept this up they wouldn't turn to the inevitable nasty.

He yelped in the jet's mouth, feeling Skywarp's glossa on his audio. "You are deliciously innocent, aren't you?" the jet murmured. He tugged Starscream's arm and Barricade felt himself carried over to the berth. He…had no idea what to expect. Half of him expected the usual to ensue, but half…just didn't know, but trembled on the very verges of hope.

He felt a hand on his armor, unfastening his interface hatch. The holder changed—he was leaned back against Skywarp, feeling the bump of a cockpit against his central dorsal line. His spike stung as the lubricant hit the open air. He hissed at the slight pain, and the mortification of the image he was giving them. He cringed when he heard Starscream laugh, and gritted his eyes for the inevitable insult.

He almost bolted out of Skywarp's grasp when he felt a warm mouth close over his spike. Starscream looked up at him, his labial plating parted around the spike, his warm, sinuous glossa teasing the spike's sensory nodes, licking at the lubricant as though this were an erotic thing. Barricade bit down on a groan. It felt…unbelievably good. But…Starscream was doing this willingly?

"Stop!" he gasped. "Please."

"Why?" Skywarp murmured in his ear. "We want to watch you get off. Relax. Starscream is very, very good at this."

Primus he was. Not that Barricade had a lot to compare it to. But he felt himself thrashing in Skywarp's arms as an overload tore through his body, feeling as if it were yanking his very spark through his sensor net. Starscream gave one final lick to the spike, still extended, and crept up his Trinemate's body to kiss Skywarp. For a long moment, Barricade saw nothing but jet chassis on all sides.

Skywarp bent down over his audio again, "Primus you taste good," he murmured. Barricade shuddered, feeling lubricant leak at his spike again. Already. He cringed as Skywarp acknowledged that with a soft laugh. "And so randy, too. My turn." Skywarp handed him off to Starscream, who pulled him into another kiss.

"Have you figured out we're not going to hurt you yet, Barricade?" the jet murmured.

"But…but why?"

Another soft laugh. "You are here. Skywarp thinks you're hot. And," the jet leaned forward to nip his audio finials. "You so desperately, desperately need it."

None of this was making any sense at all, but Barricade decided sometimes sense sucked. He felt Skywarp's weight on his back, long fingers teasing his arm tires. "How do you want it, Barricade?" the mech's voice was surprisingly deep, and tickled Barricade's audio.

"Want…it?" He couldn't be asking what Barricade thought he was asking.

"Do you want valve or spike."

Oh. Oh Primus. He blinked, as stunned as if Skywarp had just clocked him over the head. For a long moment, he said nothing. He felt Starscream move beneath him, shifting Barricade's weight lower.

"He is unable to decide, Skywarp. Which means, well, since he is in the middle…."

Barricade gasped as Starscream squirmed his hips underneath him, and he felt his spike plunge into the jet's valve. A moment later, he cried out as Skywarp slowly pushed his spike into the smaller mech's valve. He pushed up suddenly against the sensation, clonking his head on the jet's chest. Another round of laughter.

"Primus, he's just precious, isn't he?" Skywarp breathed. He pushed experimentally into Barricade's valve, rocking him, in turn, in Starscream. Oh this was too much.

Skywarp pushed a little faster, a little harder. Barricade tried to say something; nothing but incoherent syllables poured from his vocalizer.

"Either his vocalizer is on the fritz or he's enjoying this."

"He is enjoying it," Starscream gasped, his own breath coming a little raggedly.

Barricade felt four hands trace his body, one pair flirting with his thigh armor, another teasing his arms and back. He felt Skywarp's speech rumble through his chest against Barricade's back. "I think he's going to take us with him."

"Soon," Starscream said, his eyes drooping closed, mouth slightly parted, giving himself over to the sensation.

An overload of such intensity that Barricade's sensor net blanked for a klik tore through him as both of his interface systems fired off at the same time. He screamed—he remembered screaming—remembered Skywarp's hand covering his mouth, Skywarp's mouth hot on his audio and throat—remembered the two of them overloading afterwards, almost spiralling him into another one—the grasping rush of Starscream's valve seizing on his spike, Skywarp's spike shooting transfluid into his valve.

He lay there, limp, sprawled on Starscream's chest, Skywarp's hand still over his mouth. Oh, if he could die right now, he'd be okay with that.

After a long moment, Skywarp stirred. "Going to pull out now, okay, grounder?" He moaned something like assent, and felt Skywarp withdraw, gently. Primus, they were treating him like a doll. Like he'd break. And…he did NOT want to complain. He raised himself on his elbows. "Should move, too, huh?"

"It depends, Barricade. Are you finished with me?" Starscream squeezed his valve around the still extended spike. This is not happening. Oh Primus this cannot be happening. But please…please…let it be happening?

"He's done with you," Skywarp said. "Simply because I want him." Oh. A shudder of pure desire wracked Barricade's body. Just at the words. Someone WANTED him. Regretfully, he let himself be pulled away from Starscream. Skywarp settled him on the berth. "Don't mind if I do all the work, do you? You are going to need to conserve your energy, grounder." Another shudder of pure anticipatory desire ran through Barricade's sensornet, that compounded as the black jet straddled his hips, settling himself on Barricade's spike. Barricade stroked the larger mech's thighs, only to find his wrists slammed against the berth.

"Do not be alarmed, Barricade. Skywarp merely likes to hold his partners down." Barricade's mind flashed back to the image of Skywarp pinning Starscream's wrists the same way. He tried to sigh himself relaxed.

Relaxation was kind of hard when another mech was willingly riding your spike. He couldn't tear his eyes off the spectacle of the matte-black Seeker, eyes closed, head tilted upward, shifting his hips over Barricade. Not up and down, but slightly forward and back, so that his spike shifted pressure against the valve.

He felt cool fingers brush his grille. "If you wish to arouse him," Starscream said, settling himself behind Barricade's head, watching the same show Barricade was…with almost the same reaction, "He likes it when you struggle. A little bit."

Barricade twisted one wrist experimentally in Skywarp's grasp, and then the other. "Ha!" Skywarp muttered. "Can't escape, can you? My little spike. Mine."

"He also likes to talk…unromantically," Starscream added, slightly apologetically. It was fine with Barricade. It was turning him on. No one had ever called him their little spike before. He struggled a bit harder, twisting his chassis on the berth.

Skywarp bent over him, eyes ablaze. "MY spike. Mine." His grip tightened on Barricade's wrists, almost hard enough to hurt. Even that, though, aroused Barricade. He felt an overload rushing at him. Too soon. The jet would be disappointed. He gritted his denta, determined to hold it off. His body thrashed now, under the impossibly coaxing motion of the Seeker on his spike, and his struggle to keep himself together.

Skywarp banged his wrists against the berth. "Give it to me!" he snarled, startling Barricade into losing control. With another cry, he overloaded his spike into the Seeker's valve. Skywarp arched up, panting hard. Barricade felt the Seeker's valve spasm against his spike in his own overload.

Skywarp collapsed down on top of him, panting, murmuring. "Good spike. My good little spike. Good little Barricade, yes…." He dropped to one side, careful not to crush Barricade, releasing his grip on the smaller mech's wrists. Sensation rushed back into them. He quivered. This was all just…too much.

"Do you like him?" Starscream asked, stroking his Trinemate's head.

"Very much." Skywarp leaned over, and Barricade felt the Seeker part his mouth with his own. Not as gently as Starscream—more demanding. He moaned, softly. A sour thought came to him, as Skywarp continued to kiss him. It was a bad, as in astronomically bad, idea to have Starscream jealous. He turned his head away, with regret, breaking the kiss.

"Hurt you, little spike?" Skywarp said, only half-teasing.

"Starscream. Jealous," was all he managed to say. The 'little spike' endearment flared his sensornet again.

"What?" The bronze jet heard his name.

"He thinks you're going to get jealous if I keep paying attention to him instead of you." The way he said it made it sound like a joke.

Starscream knelt behind Barricade's head. "Barricade, Trines do not get jealous. Not for this sort of thing." He bent lower. "If I am upset at anything it is that I did not consider you before as an interface partner." He settled his legs closer. "Now, my turn: Spike or valve, Barricade. I want to see what you can do." He winked.

"My vote," Skywarp said, "Is valve. But I don't think our little spike is quite recovered yet." He preened. "I took a lot out of him."

Starscream flopped back. "It is up to him."

Barricade struggled to his knees. Skywarp was right: he wasn't ready to go again. But he remembered Starscream's valve from before. And there were ways he could buy time. He'd just never done them…voluntarily before. He teased the jet's exposed spike with the back of one hand, gratified when it leaked a little lubricant. He rubbed it again, more openly. Starscream sighed, settling himself back, his head pillowed in his arms. Barricade straddled one of the jet's thighs, reaching over to the valve, leaking his own and Skywarp's fluids. A shiver ran through him: he hadn't realized at the time—too swept up in everything else—he'd been spiking the Seeker through his own Trinemate's overload. The thought sent a dark thrill through him. He tasted it. Above him, Starscream shuddered, his breath hitching. Barricade licked the outer rim of the valve, a hesitant grin flashing on his face as the jet began a series of tremors, his thighs nearly vibrating from the tension. He kept his hand slow and gentle on the spike, lubricant spilling over his talons. His own spike signalled its readiness to extend. Not yet. Not…yet. He gathered the excess lubricant with his other hand, glossing it thickly across his fingers, and carefully inserted one long talon into the valve.

The jet gasped. He felt the valve clench around his finger. He began working it slowly in the jet, whose vibrations increased. He risked another talon, pushing at the edges of the valve. Starscream moaned openly, one hand coming down to clutch at the air near Barricade's head.

Barricade shifted, working his fingers into the valve in the same rhythm his other hand worked the jet's spike.

"Oh!" Starscream said, sounding half surprised. "Oh!" And then he half-sat up, an involuntary motor reflex, crying out as his systems overloaded. Silver fluid shot from his spike, and a thin trickle of bluish fluid seeped from his valve.

Skywarp bent over, teasing the end of his Trinemate's spike with his glossa. Starscream quivered. "Spike him now, Barricade."

"No," the bronze jet said, panting. "Better idea." He rose up, shoving a surprised Skywarp flat on his back. "Barricade, shall we?" He pinned Skywarp down with one arm across his Trinemate's chest, licking his spike. Barricade shuddered, remembering the feel of that glossa on his own spike. "Skywarp," Starscream suggested, pausing, "likes to take your spike, doesn't he?"

It was awkward, thrusting his spike into the Seeker's valve while his Trinemate worked on his spike with his eager, agile mouth. Starscream's shoulder curved around his hips, encouraging him, but also pinning him against Skywarp, guiding his tempo. Skywarp thrashed, cursing softly, his heat sinks drowning out most of the words, until his hips bucked off the berth, and Barricade felt the valve pulling, goading, an overload out of his spike at the same time Starscream made a soft murmur and swallow in his throat.

Barricade collapsed against the two of them, exhausted. Starscream's arm was around his waist, his head under Barricade's ribs, Skywarp a panting cushion underneath them. Skywarp sat up onto his elbows, pulling Barricade into a fierce kiss. "So good, my little spike," he murmured.

They lay tangled together. Eventually, Starscream ducked his head out from under Barricade's arm. "You wished to discuss intelligence reports with me, yes?" He saw why the topic came back up. Starscream had rolled off onto the lumpy datapad.

"Did I?" Barricade said, only vaguely remembering. He managed a shrug. "Unimportant. My cue to leave, though." He suspected they wanted to do some more…reuniting without the third party. Skywarp shifted to let him get up. He borrowed some of Starscream's cleansing rags to wipe down his armor, quickly. Starscream handed him the datapad, but didn't release his grip.

"Barricade. Skywarp is…extremely protective," he said, glancing over at where his larger Trinemate draped, half-recharging, on the berth. "If anyone bothers you…that way, please let us know."

Barricade felt shame-driven heat flush his face. "I can take care of myself," he said, stiffly.

"Not the point," Skywarp said, rolling to the edge of the berth, pulling Barricade against him, lazily. "MY little spike." He pulled Barricade into a gentle kiss, saying, as he broke it, "But Starscream can borrow you."