Everyone has their vices.

It seemed like forever ago. But the memories were still clear. Oh, so very clear…

It had been eons past, before the war. Before the long stretches of cold, empty nothingness that had consumed so much of his life. So far back in time that all other memories were gray and blurred with age. But those memories remained untouched, set aside like priceless artifacts to be taken out and admired only rarely, lest they grow tarnished…

Memories of him. Of them. Of a time when such things were safe and comfortable and right.

How things had changed.

The rough pavement, still hot from the passing of the day, seethed under screeching rubber as he whipped around the bend. Far ahead, cloaked in twilight and rolling white fog, he could still make out the taillights of another speeding car. Familiarity washed over him - or was it anticipation?

It didn't matter. One led to the other led to the inevitable ending that both could sense and neither could deny.

It's been too long…

His engine roared as he coaxed still more speed from it, slowly gaining on his target. He could have gone faster, gained more ground in less time, but he didn't want to.

The car ahead responded with a teasing fishtail. Come on, go faster, it seemed to say; Hurry up before I get away. But he didn't rise to the bait, no matter how badly he wanted to. He knew how this would end. They both did.

No one was getting away. Not tonight.

The hiss of solid pavement gave way to the grinding crunch of gravel as the chase wound further and further from the city, and deeper into the fog-choked darkness of the countryside.

For a moment, in his mind's eye, the scenery dissolved into another place and time. Cool, wet air and suffocating dusk gave way to dry heat and a ruddy red sky; gravel and dirt melted into a smooth silica thoroughfare…

Home.

They had chased each other along those familiar roadways for years, one overtaking the other overtaking the other again. And every race ended the same, with the age-old inexorability of night overtaking day. The sweet taste of victory… the far sweeter taste of a lover's absolute surrender…

He wanted that again.

Reality crashed into him with the force of a speeding tractor-trailer, and he surged forward. So close… so close now, and the anticipation was so thick that he could taste it.

He could see the gleam of glossy gold paint in the diffused glow of his headlights. It shone teasingly, like a fleeting shimmer of sunlight in the darkness, taunting him, urging him on. Closer still, and he could feel the vibration of the other's engine through the cool air and the road beneath his wheels. That sensation…

It felt good.

With one final, burst of speed, he sailed smoothly up alongside the yellow car.

The not-so-gentle nudge that followed was met with little resistance, and the two cars spun out together in an unusually graceful flourish, pressed side-to-side in an automotive embrace.

They pulled suddenly away from one another then, but not to resume the chase.

There was the gear-grinding, shifting rush of transformation, and for a split-second the two rivals were optic-to-optic, close enough to touch… but only for a moment, until…

He wanted this. Needed it. And, finally, after so many thousands of years, it was once more in his grasp. For the first time in what seemed an eternity there was absolutely nothing standing in his way - in their way - as they tackled one another to the ground and a flood of age-old repressed feelings and sensations inundated and consumed them there in the dark.

Pleasure mixed with the pain as each struggled against the other, wordlessly, thoughtlessly, grappling like sparklings for control that neither was willing to relinquish. That is, until desire overwhelmed defensiveness and he felt all resistance drain from the quivering golden body pinned beneath his own, even as a steady hand reached up to grip the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Close enough for their bodies to touch. For their sparks…

For a long, blissful moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. All that existed, all that mattered, was himself and his lover, and the deafening roar that filled both their audios as darkness intertwined itself inescapably with the light -

Heat cold anger tranquility rage peace brutality tenderness betrayal loyalty reproach forgiveness…

Hate…

Love…

It was all just as he remembered. It was everything he had been craving, and more.

He'd forgotten how much better the real thing was. Memories… paled, in comparison.

And it was with utter loathing that he greeted the dawn, because dawn meant the loss of this thing which he'd fought to hard to regain. That which was rightfully his and his alone, which should never be touched by anyone or anything else. Ever. Oh, how he hated the thought of anyone else laying their hands on him…

Wordlessly, the yellow Autobot reached out to touch his face, and the black Decepticon leaned into the caress with a throaty purr.

Leaning in close, he bent to nuzzle his lover's exposed throat, feeling smooth fingertips slipping around to stroke the back of his head and neck… and, with a soft growl, closed his own sharp-edged teeth around the Autobot's voice box, just hard enough to hurt, but not cause damage.

You are mine. Forever.

He felt the body beneath his tense and tremble - then relax once more. Commendably, the Autobot didn't once falter in his light caresses. He understood the dynamic. The way things had always been, and would always be so long as they both lived.

And all too soon… it was over.

They separated, albeit reluctantly, and the little Autobot transformed. He hesitated for only a moment, before accelerating away and vanishing into the slowly-dissipating fog, leaving his lover to stand alone on the grassy knoll, watching after him until he could no longer even hear the familiar rumble of his engine.

Once again, he was left with nothing but the memory, and his own thoughts.

Everyone has their vices. Everyone.

The black Decepticon was no exception.

For some beings, it was mind-altering substances. For others, it was gambling, or gossiping, or spending, or lewd pictures (and he tried very hard not to think about Frenzy's little "stash" hidden away aboard the Nemesis… Some things were truly better left undiscovered…)

For Barricade, his vice was a little black-striped yellow Camaro named Bumblebee. And it was a vice that he was having an increasingly difficult time denying…

At last, though, he transformed back, engine purring as he made his way back to the road. A passing pickup truck, rust-pocked and packed with humans, swerved to avoid him, only to end up in the ditch when the driver turned to stare at the sleek bi-colored sports car that had just wandered out of the nearby field. He didn't even give them a second thought as he sped away. Let the humans gawk like the stupid animals they were; he didn't owe them any explanations.

Pushing himself to the limit, Barricade tore away, reminding himself that there would be other nights, other chases. Other chances to indulge in their shared addiction…

Until then, though, he had his memories, and those would suffice.

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This was originally written with song lyrics. See my LJ for the original draft :)