Seven Deadly Sins: Jealousy.

Barricade.

Chapter Eight.

It wasn't long before life with Barricade fell into a comfortable routine for Sam. In the morning he would wake, although that wasn't always a natural awakening: Sam had found himself waking in Barricade's strangely gentle hands twice now as the black and white mech had been lifting him up for a cuddle. Barricade had now been keeping Sam with him for just over two weeks, and oddly enough, Sam was feeling less stressed about this, not more.

Sam had by now got used to the Decepticon being so strangely touchy-feely, and had stopped questioning why this was, because Sam thought he'd worked it out. It had started as a genuine need, the Decepticon having not felt a human or Cybertronian touch for months, but now Barricade was doing it because he liked it. Despite the fact that Sam was a sweaty organic, Barricade was able to put aside enough of his disgust at Sam's moist organicness to enjoy holding and caressing him, and, for that matter, to enjoy the touches Sam gave in return.

Sam himself enjoyed the contact. He was still scared a little of Barricade, because there was no question that the mech could be volatile, and Sam could never be sure that something he might do - or omit to do - could set Barricade off. However, Sam was also aware that the contact itself calmed Barricade and made him happier, so the best thing he could do, he felt, was continue it, and if he happened to enjoy doing so, well, that was a bonus.

After cuddles, if they happened first, Sam washed himself - or was sometimes washed by Barricade, something else he now took in his stride - and that was often followed by more touch whether Sam had been picked up and/or washed already or not. Then Barricade let Sam eat and they would ether sit and talk, or Barricade would take Sam out to stretch his legs, shop, or call either Mikaela or his parents.

Barricade's young human holoform tended to accompany Sam to the malls when they set out to replenish the perishable foods, or buy other things Sam found he needed, and Barricade had been refining it. Now it's brow would furrow if it frowned, the face crease and dimple when he laughed, and even the hair sometimes moved in the wind. Barricade had access to the entire Internet and the holoform had taken to telling Sam jokes that sometimes had the young teen creasing up with laughter. Sometimes, Barricade's holoform acted so human that Sam could forget for a few minutes at a time that Barry was just a holoform.

Unbeknownst to both the Decepticon and his young captive, Bumblebee was receiving knowledge of any sightings of them, and plotting them on his map, and despite Barricade's care in choosing locations, a pattern was emerging.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam stirred as the haunting, beautiful, but wholly alien music insinuated itself into his slowly-waking brain. He turned over in the bed, fought his way out of the sheets that had somehow become twisted around his body, and looked up, to see Barricade sitting by his bed cross-legged, optics half shuttered, holding and playing what had to be a musical instrument, for it was from this that the alien melody was coming. Sam looked up at Barricade's oblivious face, stunned into silence by the oddly tranquil expression on it.

As the last strains died and Barricade's optics fully unshuttered, Sam could not help but burst into applause. Barricade looked down, startled, and Sam stopped, worried he'd offended the mech.

"Did you…like it?" Barricade asked.

"Yeah." Sam said, looking up at Barricade with awe. He recalled an earlier conversation, when Barricade had claimed to be a composer.

"Was that your composition?" he asked. Barricade nodded.

"I used to play in some of Cybertron's biggest music halls, to large audiences. Now I play my music for just myself…or now, for you." he said, reaching down one large finger to stroke down Sam's head, neck, and back.

"Well, thanks, it's beautiful." Sam said.

"Go and wash yourself, Sam, and I will play for you while you cleanse yourself." Barricade said softly, raising his instrument again. Sam did so, and true to his word, Barricade played as Sam washed.

Sam took longer about washing himself than usual, thinking of Barricade playing to huge crowds in big halls, and wondering how things might have gone for Barricade had the war not happened. Sam wondered if Barricade was happier then, or was he happy now with his new life? Sam could see that Barricade channelled the same energy he put into his battles into his music, although Sam realised it was actually the other way round, the music had come first. Had Barricade reconciled himself to being a warrior instead of an artist, Sam wondered, or did Barricade still dream of the days his hands had been used to create instead of destroy?

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Sam ate, and then went for his obligatory petting and cuddles. The musical instrument was absent, and Sam wondered but did not ask where it was. As was usual, Barricade brought Sam up to his chest and his face where Sam could reciprocate, kissed the boy on his chest and back, and cuddled him in his big hands. Sam, for his part, was getting bolder, exploring some of the gaps in Barricade's armour, sliding his hands under looser segments of plating, and Barricade seemed to enjoy this new boldness, moaning and shivering as Sam touched wires and cables.

Sam was distressed to find some dirt and grit in what must have been very uncomfortable places, and that's when he had the idea.

"Barricade?" he said.

"Yes, Sam?" Barricade said.

"I think you need another wash." Sam said. "You're all gritty in here."

"Very well." Barricade said. He stood, took Sam through to the wash area, and set him down, backing off ready to transform into his alt mode. Sam held up his hand.

"No, Barricade, don't transform, I would like to wash you in robot form. Please?" he asked, still mindful to be polite. He and Barricade might seem to have some sort of understanding, Barricade might seem to be fond of him, but he was still an alien, and Sam was well aware that Barricade was a trained soldier, who might yet have no qualms about squishing Sam if he overstepped the line.

Barricade blinked his optics, looked at Sam.

"You wish to wash me…like this?" he asked. Sam wasn't sure if he heard a slight tremor in Barricade's voice as he spoke, and nodded at the mech.

"If that would be okay?" he said.

Barricade's response was to drop to a cross-legged seated position and open his arms.

"Let me get a toothbrush a mo." Sam said, and disappeared into his room, reappearing a moment later with the toothbrush. He moved over to grab a sponge and some car shampoo, then moved over to the shower.

After thoroughly soaking Barricade, Sam lathered him up with the shampoo and sponge, sluiced off the suds, then used the toothbrush to get in under plating and into crevices where dirt and grit had accumulated. Barricade obviously enjoyed this part, if his stretches and moans were anything to go by, and Sam was careful not to scrub too hard with the brush. Then Sam got some of his towels and toilet paper, and set to drying the sensitive areas under the plating.

Carefully he rubbed at the areas of plating, and dabbed at wires and cables, careful to mop up every bit of moisture he could find. Barricade had lain down for this, and Sam had to watch his footing and hold on, for Barricade twitched and cried out even more at this. Again, there was no doubt that Barricade was enjoying his ministrations. Soon, though, Sam had patted Barricade's innards dry, and he was wet himself and rather tired.

Then Barricade carefully undressed Sam, who didn't protest as Barricade gave him his second wash of the day, and then carefully patted him dry with towels Sam had not used on him. He put Sam in his room, and said "Get some rest, you've worked hard on cleaning me, thank you."

Sam nodded wearily. Putting on his pyjamas and climbing back into his bed, drowsily leaning into Barricade's hand as the big Decepticon stroked him, then left.

Barricade stretched after leaving the human, wondering what he could do until the boy was adequately rested. He looked up at a crack in the warehouse, could see a beam of sunlight shining through, dust motes caught in its light. Barricade decided he'd nip outside for a few minutes, to feel the sun on his hide, and enjoy its warmth. Oh yes, he'd been out with Sam in alt mode often enough in the sunlight, but he tended to spend his time in bipedal form indoors, in case he was spotted. However, they were far enough away from civilisation that he could chance a few moments outside in robot form, surely?

He went over to the warehouse door, opened it, and slipped outside, not bothering to close the door as he only planned on being outside for a few minutes. He arched and spread his limbs, resettling his feet for balance as he enjoyed the feel of the sun in his plating, warming the metal that Sam had scrubbed and dried fifteen minutes previously. He mused that perhaps he should sit outside with Sam like this one day, they could talk and enjoy the sunlight together.

With his optics shuttered and his guard down, Barricade did not notice the figure that slipped around the corner of the warehouse. He was so off guard it took him a couple of seconds to register the whine of a weapon powering up.

His optics flew open and his head turned, but not soon enough to avoid the pulse of blue that flew at him, knocking him backwards and flipping him over twice before he landed. As he stood, his optics focused on his assailant, who shone a bright yellow in the sun, his blue optics blazing with a similar intensity to the blue glow in the mouth of his cannon.

Bumblebee had tracked down Barricade. Bumblebee was furious, and Bumblebee intended to deliver Barricade a punishing sting.