TfEC: Minicons | By : Esotericstyle Category: Comics > Transformers (IDW) > Transformers (IDW) Views: 2234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Transformers: Energon City
Mini-Con 5: Ransack
*This story takes place outside of the Energon City timeline.*
Barricade shuffled his feet on the stoop. He rolled a cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. Here stood a man with little to fear, staring at a plain white door, wishing he had just one drop of alcohol. Finally, he head footsteps on the other side of the wooden barrier. The cop wondered how he got involved in this kind of thing.
A squat woman, aging face framed with unnaturally red hair appeared in the newly opened portal.
“You must be Jesse.” She seemed as startled as he was. “Seine has said so much about you.”
“I’m sure.” Barricade waited awkwardly for an invitation to enter. The woman was simply observing him, staring with a look of general displeasure. Barricade suddenly remembered himself and dropped his cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the cement with the worn heel of one boot.
“Well, come in then, Seine is still upstairs but we’re all about ready to eat.”
“Eat?” Soundwave had not mentioned eating. He had only mentioned being picked up, and dropped off. “Oh, well, I already…”
“Nonsense,” The plump woman retorted, coating the order with a healthy dollop of country sweetness. Barricade found himself ushered into a plainly decorated hallway, the striped wallpaper occasionally covered by a pre-fabricated painting of a barn, or possibly a windmill. The kind of artwork one would find for sale in a grocery store. His jacket was removed and carelessly filed away in an adjoining closet. Barricade was uncomfortable. He hated wearing dress clothes, and he especially hated wearing them unnecessarily. Soundwave’s mother led him into the dining room via a firm grip on his elbow. He wondered if the men he arrested felt as trapped and violated.
The room was populated by a man of around forty, casually dressed in a plain T-shirt and slacks, and a young girl wearing purple barrettes in her thick black hair. Barricade was seated next to an empty chair, across from the girl. She was around eight or nine, wearing a dark blue sundress. She stared at him with large, bright doe’s eyes. Her mouth was scrunched into a concentrated line.
“Becky, don’t stare.” The gruff voice came from Barricade’s left. The girl’s gaze fell immediately to the tablecloth. She focused on the simple embroidery as if trying to unravel it with her stare. Jesse turned to face the man at the head of the table. His face was buried in the last few pages of that day’s paper. Like some clairvoyant father in a 1950’s sitcom, the man addressed the happenings of the room without a single upward glance. “So tell me, Jesse,” he began, flipping a page, “How do you know Seine?” Barricade didn’t know how to answer. He hadn’t been coached on what Soundwave’s parents did and did not know about them.
“Well, I met him…” He was cut off by Seine’s mother.
“Come on in boys, it’s time for photos!”
Jesse stood by Seine’s mother. Becky and her father stood against the wall behind them. Soundwave stepped unceremoniously out from the far hall. He was stunning. The seventeen-year-old was wearing a formal black suit. Under it was a dark button-up shirt with vertical violet striping. Soundwave’s youthful face seemed unnaturally placed atop the formalwear, his dreadlocked hair sticking out in contrast to the tidy clothing. Barricade realized he was staring. Soundwave smirked and cocked his head.
“A picture’d last longer.” He chimed.
“And what a great idea that is!” Soundwave’s mom interjected. She ushered Jesse over to the boy, and squatted on the plush carpet. She drew an ancient looking camera from her pocket as if it were a concealed weapon, blinding both boys with a series of flashes. None of the shots were preceded by a warning, and as a result the photos would inevitably capture several angles of the two males cringing and squinting.
Dinner was an eternity in Hell. It became quickly apparent that Soundwave’s parents were very well informed on their child’s love life. Trudy, Soundwave’s mom, was not only aware of Soundwave’s sexual conquests, she loudly boasted about them. She interrogated Barricade about Soundwave’s previous beaus, comparing him to those she liked, and those she disliked. She seemed to speak of all of them with a subtle reverence, as if hoping that her own husband could be as sensitive and well-mannered as the fags her son slept with. Jay, Soundwave’s father, was much less interested in these matters. He took an immediate liking to Barricade, and Jesse suspected that part of it was the man’s desire to have a real man, any real man, to shoot the shit with.
Jay was pleased that Barricade seemed to prefer sports and television to makeovers and clubs. Before long, Barricade felt that he was filling the role of the son Jay had always wanted. It did not seem to register or matter that Barricade was barely a decade younger. The conversation was dizzying, Barricade was being volleyed from one parent to the next in a relentless battle for attention.
“Who do you have your money on this season?” Jay asked, while flipping hastily through his recently discarded paper for stats on the upcoming players. Jesse’s answer was drowned out by uproarious laughter emanating from the other end of the table. “Keep it down, Trudy, for crissakes, we’re all in the same room. I think Chicago really has a shot this year, eh Jesse?” Barricade struggled to formulate a response. Frankly, he didn’t give a shit about Chicago or basketball in general.
“Well, actually I…” He began, before being interrupted by an agitated Trudy.
“So, Jesse, were you aware that our little heartbreaker has had three boyfriends this semester alone?”
“Mom!”
“Sorry honey, didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret!”
“Barr…Jesse doesn’t want to hear stories about my exes!” Trudy seemed shocked that such a topic could be seen as upsetting. Soundwave sighed and stood up, his half-eaten plate of food pushed aside. “I need to finish getting ready, and I’m taking Jesse with me, so you can’t torture him further.” Soundwave grabbed Barricade by the wrist, pulling him from the table with surprising force. The officer sent an uncomfortable gesture of surrender to the table, before allowing the youth to cart him upstairs. Soundwave collapsed onto his bed, falling dramatically into the billowy pile of comforters and furry pillows. He sighed loudly, and pretended to smother himself with a cushion. “I’m sorry about my parents,” He muttered, spitting fake fur and feathers from his lips. “They can be a bit overbearing.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve dealt with worse.” Jesse was distracted. He scanned the room, picking up every detail. It was an attic room, the ceiling at a severe angle. It’s white, pock-marked surface was covered almost entirely in posters from obscure, underground musicians. Scattered amongst the posters were tickets and flyers from concerts, punk shows, and art house film cinemas that Jesse had never heard of. In a glass case, by a painfully boring door, was a large collection of musical paraphernalia; Guitar picks, drumsticks, and signed CD inserts, coupled with small postcards of the artists that wielded them. On the floor by the case was a dark blue milk crate overflowing with vinyl records. Some were in protective sleeves, most weren’t. One corner of the room was occupied with a pile of electronic devices that Barricade had no hope of understanding.
His eyes wandered back to the bed, where Soundwave regarded him with a sultry stare. The boy was lounging on the soft mattress, leaning back on both elbows.
“So, Jesse, should we go off to the ball?” Barricade smiled, and extended his arm in mockery of a classical gentleman. Soundwave stood, and with a giddy smile, strung his arm around Barricade’s.
“This would work better if you were in a gown,” Jesse joked.
“Oh, but I was saving it for the wedding.” Soundwave laughed at Jesse’s noticeable shock, and directed the man outside.
Until they had actually stepped into the school, Jesse had assumed that going to the prom was a lie. He figured they’d get in the car, drive to a parking lot somewhere, and fuck for a few hours before calling it a night. Soundwave seemed oblivious to that line of thinking. The couple entered the school building. To call the dance a prom was a glorification that was unmatched in Barricade’s mind. The small cafeteria was strewn with paper streamers and hideous pastel balloons. Somewhere between fifty and sixty couples were spread amongst the decorations. Most of them were seated on a set of bleachers by the refreshment table. As Soundwave left his side to greet a small group of friends, Jesse took the opportunity to satisfy the hunger that their unfinished meal left behind.
The table was a laughable stock of store-bought punch and homemade baked goods. Jesse had no doubt that somewhere nearby was a sign thanking the PTA for the donated food. He unhappily munched on a handful of flavorless cookies while he waited for Soundwave to find him again. Several of the students eyed him uneasily, but a few well-timed snarls sent them away. Eventually, Soundwave returned. Jesse watched him drop a round pill stamped with a heart onto his tongue, before washing it down with a hastily poured glass of violently-red punch. Soundwave discarded the cheap plastic cup and approached Jesse.
“Why the look officer? You’ve never tried to have a better time at a shitty party?”
“I don’t judge, kid, and don’t call me that here. These fucks are scared of me enough as it is.” Soundwave laughed and saluted him.
“Shall we dance then?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you?” And with that, Jesse led Soundwave to the floor.
It turned out that one of Soundwave’s friends was in charge of the music, and it wasn’t long before the shitty 80’s reject soundtrack had been replaced with current club music, most of which Jesse had no hope of recognizing. The kids began to stream onto the dance floor, and Barricade soon found himself body to body with dozens of teens. Soundwave was lost in the sensation of the dance, the ecstasy pumping through his veins. Finally, Jesse was tired of watching. He grabbed Soundwave’s arm and pulled him to the only remotely private place he could find.
Jesse shouldered into the bathroom, hoping that this one, away from the main dance, would not be used by any other students. It was empty. Barricade found a switch and thumbed the lights on. His moves were hindered, as Soundwave clung to his body, covering his chest with gentle kisses as the boy unbuttoned his shirt. Barricade pulled Soundwave onto him, as he backed into a stall. Soundwave pulled the stall door closed, latching the flimsy steel bar that held it in place. Barricade did not waste time on foreplay. He had little patience for it under the best of circumstances, and this was certainly not the time to draw things out. He deftly undid Soundwave’s belt, and roughly forced the boy’s slacks to the floor. Soundwave leaned his shoulders against the door, his back to Barricade. He turned his head, so that it now rested against the pale blue door, and slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his clingy underwear. He pulled the fabric down, just enough to reveal the upper curve of his ass, taunting Jesse without mercy.
“Fuck me, Jesse?” He asked, though there was certainty in his voice. Barricade unzipped his formal pants, freeing his cock, already swollen in anticipation. He leaned over Soundwave, his rigid organ pressing against the boy’s ass. He placed his head next to Soundwave’s ear, the stubble of his cheek brushing the teen’s tender skin.
“You shouldn’t have to ask.” He pulled Soundwave’s underwear down, as the boy braced himself against the door. Barricade’s cock, wet with his own saliva, easily found it’s target, and with a familiar thrust, Jesse entered Soundwave’s warm body. The boy shivered in pleasure, his back breaking out in goose bumps as his heightened senses tried to process the sensation. Soundwave began to pant loudly with each of Jesse’s thrusts, until he was chanting “yes, yes, God yes,” with each breath. His cock bounced freely in the air. Soundwave didn’t need to touch it. At this angle, Barricade’s cock prodded his A spot relentlessly, giving the boy a pleasure that couldn’t be matched. He leaned, pressed against the door, sweat dripping down his taut thighs. Barricade’s hands explored Soundwave’s body, no part of him motionless during the act. The man’s rough palms ran over Soundwave’s hips, his waist, over his trim stomach.
“Too…much” Soundwave tried to say. “You’ll…you’ll make me cum too soon.” Jesse could barely hear him. Soundwave’s voice was ragged and breathy. One of Barricade’s hands ran down Soundwave’s abdomen, and under it, between his thighs, and it was too much. Soundwave cried out, but Jesse heard something else. Someone was in the hall outside. Jesse quickly moved one hand upward, placing a finger over Soundwave’s mouth to silence him. The boy pulled it between his lips, suckling it and biting it to divert his attention.
The bathroom door swung open, as the first drops of Soundwave’s cum splashed against the blue stall. The boy’s teeth cut into Barricade’s flesh as he fought to maintain control through the orgasm. A few whimpers escaped his throat, but thankfully, they seemed to go unnoticed. They heard an elderly man clear his throat. When he spoke, it was with an air of uncertainty.
“Is anyone in there?” Barricade noticed that the man was speaking to the room in general. His speech did not target them. He released Soundwave’s mouth, and squeezed him gently, hoping the signal would be read appropriately.
“Ayuh…” Soundwave gasped, desperately trying to control his breath. “Yeah, I’m…I’m in here.”
“You alright, son? You sound pretty winded.”
“I’m fine, just danced a little too much.” Barricade tried to remain as still as possible. He knew that every breath he took sent tremors through his cock, all of which sent shivers across Soundwave’s body.
“Well, whenever you finish resting or whatever you’re doing in here, do me a favor and shut off the light. Save a little energy.”
“Sure…Unnh…You’ve got it.” The man grunted in reply, and left the bathroom. Neither of them dared to move until the door had swung shut and the footsteps retreated into oblivion.
“That was close,” Soundwave muttered, breathlessly.
“So am I.” Barricade retorted. Soundwave laughed, and repositioned himself. He lifted one leg, placing his foot on the toilet paper dispenser bolted to the wall. He reached up, and supported his weight by hanging from the stall itself. Barricade bent his knees slightly, twisting his hips so that he could slide every available inch into Soundwave’s waiting asshole. Soundwave’s face clenched, and he turned his head upward as Barricade buried himself inside. His mouth fell open, his body seeking the breath that was just lost.
“Fuck,” Soundwave gasped. “You feel so big inside me.” Soundwave tensed around the rigid shaft, temporarily stopping Barricade’s breath. The boy began to raise and lower his hips, riding Barricade like a seasoned professional. The cop was forced to seek a source of balance to lean on. He felt around behind himself until his hand found purchase on a pipe running the length of the bathroom wall. Soundwave arched his back, dropping his hips rhythmically, forcing Barricade’s cock to penetrate his tender hole with relentless force. Soundwave’s silky skin was covered in a thin coating of sweat, and a light flush was spreading from the base of his spine to his shoulders. Soundwave turned his head to watch Barricade’s face, sending his dark dreads whirling across his lustful eyes.
Barricade’s gaze was turned upward, his forehead creased with concentration. His jaw hung loosely, and though an outsider would have recognized only an expression of carnal pleasure, Soundwave saw only true beauty. He knew that Barricade was enjoying this as much as he was, but he wanted to hear him say it, damn it.
“How does my ass feel around your cock, Barricade?”
“It feels good, I’m close.”
“Tell me before you cum, I want to watch.” Soundwave tightened around his lover as best as he could, knowing how much Barricade would enjoy it. He felt his own arousal grow again, even as Barricade was clawing at his shoulder, crying out for the boy’s attention.
“I’m going to cum if we don’t stop, how are you planning…on watching?” Soundwave had planned ahead. He stepped away, pulling Barricade free with an audible murmur of disappointment. He opened the stall door.
“What are you…what if someone comes in?”
“I don’t care.” Soundwave grabbed Barricade’s hand, and stepping out of his discarded slack, pulled him around the corner to a small room of sinks. Above the white speckled countertops on both sides of the room were large plate mirrors. Soundwave sat on one of the counters, his legs spread to reveal his most delicate entrance. Now understanding, Barricade stepped between his thighs, and allowing Soundwave to wrap his arms around his waist, he entered the boy again. Soundwave rested his head on Barricade’s shoulder, relishing in the officer’s hot breath on his neck. Soundwave watched himself, reflected infinitely in the matching sets of glass, as his lover held him. He could see the reflection of Barricade’s face, and thus could see every angle of their encounter. The officer, now being denied orgasm twice, had little interest in the countless reflections.
“No more games, boy, this ass is mine until I’m finished with it.” Barricade dropped his hands, gripping Soundwave’s lower back firmly. He pulled it toward himself, as he drove his cock forward. Soundwave’s eyes closed as Barricade tore into him, his teeth closed tightly on his lower lip, and when he next saw his reflection, a bead of blood decorated his mouth. No longer able to keep silent, Soundwave whimpered with each merciless thrust Barricade delivered.
“Use me, Barricade, use me.”
“A slut like you needs to be used.” Soundwave’s cock rubbed against Barricade’s stomach as the cop fucked him, already lubricated from his previous orgasm, the sensation was maddening. “I feel you grinding my stomach, boy. You better not cum on me. If you do, I’m making you lick it clean.” Barricade’s words sent shivers through Soundwave’s body, and his ass jumped on Barricade’s cock. Jesse held his breath, his heart racing. He dug his fingers into Soundwave’s hips, and came into the teenager.
“Christ, Barricade, it’s so hot, I can feel all of your cum inside me.” Barricade continued to thrust, drawing out his pleasure. It became easier as his own fluids ran around the boy’s hole. “It’s so hot,” Soundwave repeated, and in a lapse of control, felt his body racked with a second orgasm. He collapsed against Barricade’s chest, heaving desperately.
“What’d I just tell you?”
“What?” Barricade pulled out of Soundwave, to the boy’s displeasure, and stepped back. His stomach and chest were dripping with Soundwave’s cum.
“What did I just tell you?”
“Oh.” Soundwave reached for the paper-towel dispenser. “I’m sorry…” Barricade cut him off, grabbing his wrist in one firm hand.
“Use your mouth, slut.” Soundwave searched his face. If Barricade was joking, he was hiding it well. Rather than press the issue, the nude teenager fell to his knees, his pink tongue darting out to collect the white fluid. He softly stroked Barricade’s cock, noticing covertly that the man was watching him.
Soundwave’s touch was as delicate as his physique, but it was effective. He ended each stroke with a slight twist, letting the head of Barricade’s cock dance over his fingers. The boy ate the cum greedily, rising to a squat so that he could run his warm mouth over Barricade’s chest. His tongue plucked a drop from Barricade’s left nipple, triggering a shock of pleasure in the older man. Soundwave pumped the man’s cock with more vigor. The teen smiled when he felt the man unconsciously thrusting into his palm. Only moments after Soundwave cleaned the last of his cum from Barricade’s chest, Soundwave felt a wet heat running down his arm. He looked up, his eyes meeting his lovers, and filled his mouth with the stream. He swallowed and stood, falling into Barricade’s arms.
“Barricade, I…” Soundwave was cut off by the sound of a man clearing his throat. Without looking toward the voice, Barricade spoke.
“I think it’s about time we left the dance, eh kid?” Soundwave, unashamed, faced the janitor, and grabbing his softening cock, spoke.
“Unless you want a piece of this too, get the fuck out. We’ll turn off the light after we leave.”
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