#so you have to look at ripped tights starscream with me now

[rdps01]

"this is probably like a sign of aging for them but tbh when i have i ever found aging itself unattractive" dot png

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Bastard Boyfriend

Summary: Starscream and you had another argument... Which leads to the inevitable.

pairing: Starscream/Reader

fandom: Transformers

rating: Explicit

warnings: None

tags: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Hate Sex

“Fr-frag you!”

“I’m a bit busy fragging you!”

Starscream snarled back at you, slamming his spike into you with a ferocity you haven’t felt since the last fight you both had… so about 2 weeks ago. His grip on your hips strengthened- you were sure to have dents and paint transfers you’d need to fix after this, but that wasn’t anything new.

Every thrust caused the table to scoot over the floor, the screech joining the cacophony of wet slaps, metallic clangs, fans, curses and grunts. You glared at Starscream, biting your glossa to keep yourself from moaning.

Primus, you hate him. Despised him. This was, what- the second, no, third time he openly flirted with another bot? Stupid Screamer, barely able to keep his optics off of someone else's aft. So obvious about it until he gets called out, then it’s, no you’re imagining things.

You could do way better. Someone way more trusting, more friendly, more worthy. All your friends told you this every time you both fought. Pits, you knew you could do better. But it always ended like this, after every fight or break up, with you being-

“What did I say about zoning off or thinking about anything but this frag!?”

Starscream’s screeching voice and a particularly hard, delicious thrust brought you out of your angry thoughts with a loud wanton moan. You shut your mouth tight when you see Starscream smirk triumphantly. Scowling, you venomously berate him.

“Maybe if you fragged like that more often I would be so- frag - so pissed-!”

A dark look crossed over Starscream’s red optics. Sneering, he pulled out of you and pushed you down by your legs, a loud whine ripping from your vocalizer. You were now laying on the table, your knees on either side of your head. You looked at Starscream’s face, he had the most… Starscream-iest smirk you had ever seen. There was no way to describe it. It promised something immense.

“Fine then!”

Before you could respond- yell, call him a glitch, a fragger or any other insult, he began to piston into you with fever. It left you stunned, your vents hitching for a brief nanoklik before they whirled to life on full. Your optics flickered, the sudden pleasure of you valve being so roughly treated, like you were nothing more than a common two bit piece of shareware on Velocitron-

“Oh frag! Yes, yes!”

You couldn’t help yourself, throwing your helm back and you glossa rolling out of your intake- you bet you were a very pretty picture for Starscream. He might have been recording you, and you couldn't bring yourself to care. Starscream looked so pleased with himself when he saw your face twist in pleasure.

“Tch! Look at you- so easily tamed!”

You moaned at Starscream’s insulting words, tears beginning to form in the corner of your optics. Letting go of one of your legs, he moved his servo down to your valve, pinching your anterior node. Squealing in pleasure, you began to beg.

“D-don’t stop! For Primus’ sake, don’t stop-!”

You were close- so close. Perhaps arguing was a form of foreplay for the two of you. It certainly got you going. He continued to thrust into you, chirping in Vosian. Almost growling- you were too busy thinking about how good it felt for his spike to ram against your ceiling node, the way he pulled and rubbed at your anterior node to care about what he was saying.

Primus, it felt too good.

“St-star, I’m- I’m close!”

You moaned out, ex-venting heavily. Starscream smirked- it should be illegal for anyone to look that good smirking, especially in such a smug way. You callipers worked feverishly on Starscream’s spike, each thrust of his lighting up your valve sensors and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Starscream sneered, his denta glinting in the dim lighting.

“Go on- overload for me! Show me how you really feel!”

With a cry, you came undone. Overloading so intensely you optics went offline, your frame shuddered and vented heavily with each wave of pleasure washing over you, your transfluid squirting onto his modesty plating and spike. Starscream never stopped fragging you, his pace however became frantic and uneven, he too was reaching his end.

“Fr-frag!”

He pulled out and overloaded over your abdomen and chassis with a loud groan, coolant dripping down his face. Glowing pink transfluid streaked across your chassis and abdomen. God, his beautiful, beautiful face- the picture of perfection, especially when he’s coming down from an intense sex high and-

And you scoffed, disgusted. Your optics came online and you glared at the venting seeker.

“You fragging glitch- you know your transfluid ruins my finish!”

Wordlessly Starscream bends down and grabs your face, softly taking your derma into his own. You didn’t fight back, you brought your arms around his neck, keeping him there as you moved your derma against his. It was the softest thing he had done all week. It made you feel like your spark was melting and bursting at the same time, your tank felt like it was full of robotterflies.

All too soon however, he pulled away from you, your arms gently falling to your sides. Maybe you were too spike drunk, but the way he looked at you right now almost seemed affectionate. Loving, even. He pulled a cleaning rag from his subspace and began to wipe his transfluid off of both of you without a word.

“... I’m still mad at you.”

You mumbled, looking away. Starscream smirked, his optics becoming a dim red. He moves his servo down your chassis to your valve once more, languidly circling your anterior node with his thumb. His voice is low and sultry as you gasp and moan.

“I know how to make it up to you.”

[astro-chan]

WFC Trilogy - Character Reviews

(That no one asked for)

Optimus Prime

Pretends to listen to everyone's advice

jUsT hAvE fAiTh

Okay let's look for the allspark because I said so

*Yeets it off Cybertron an hour later*

Frustrates everyone

Including his own team

Simp

Elita

Exasperated mom

Lowkey tired of OP's shit

Give the gal a break

Bad bitch

Should be leader tbh

Bumblebee

3 edgy 5 me

Sassmaster

He knows a guy

'iTs NoT a PhAsE mOm'

The ugly one

Jetfire

Probably played basketball in HS

Told his boss to go suck it

Joined the other team as an excuse to murder his former colleages

Chaotic good

Ultra Magnus

Wants peace

(Fucking dies and has his body used as a weapon of war)

His decapitated head makes a nice ornamental table piece

Ratchet

Tired of everyone's shit

Has a decepticon bf

Do NOT upset his patients

Beautiful

(((WHERE IS HE)))

Wheeljack

'Pain in my A S S'

Wheeljack N O

What does he know about Perceptor's tight receptor?

D...did he just give Megatron a boob job?

Mirage

Now you see me now you don't

Wants to fight Ratchet's decepticon bf

ADHD

Prowl

Good cop

Not ACAB???

Almost gets his shit wrecked by fucking wind

Cog

Haha big gun go pew

Somehow survives having a big ass hole blown in his torso

Gets sucked out of a ship into the cold depths of space

Gets stabbed in the tit

Are you okay, my little cogchamp?

Arcee

Shows up outta nowhere as an accomplice in robbery

Lowkey wishes she stayed home

Her and bee have chaotic sibling vibes

Chromia

Moonracer but blue

Does not get dismembered

Will snipe your ass

Moonracer

Chromia but mint

Gets dismembered

Can't snipe your ass because she's dead

Red Alert

Didn't graduate med school for this shit

Somehow survives falling to his death

He's always alert....hehe....get it?....Cuz his name's Red Alert...and he's always...heh...alert

Impactor

Angery gay

Will fight you

Won't actually fight you because Ratchet would disapprove

Deserved better

Ironhide

Red

Thank you for flying ark airlines this is your captain speaking

Probably has no idea wtf is happening most of the time

Sideswipe

Hood tiddies

*points at butterfly* is this screentime?

Sideswipe character

Hound

Wait this guy was in the show???

Huh

Idk he did a thing?

He's green I guess

Alpha Trion

Proud single dad of three kids

Can't control his three kids

Get's murdered by one of his three kids

(That kid then went on to start a planetary war against the other two kids)

Bumblebee's sleep paralysis demon

Megatron

L I P S

Overlord is that u?

Handsome squidward vibes

Has giant self-portraits of him murdering autobots hung up around his crib

Angry at OP because he's shit at flirting with OP

Save the cybertronians...by mass murdering the cybertronians

Gets stabbed in the tit

Starscream

Puritan scum

Gets promoted and instantly climaxes

*breathes excitedly*

*pleased gasp*

Jetfire's bitch

Thundercracker

Starscreams #1 fanboy

Is shit at searching for Autobots

Skywarp

Starscreams #2 fanboy

Dies?!?!

RIP I guess

Soundwave

That guy on the radio

Shares a braincell with Shockwave

Lowkey wholesome

C00l d00d

Shockwave

Questionable morals

Even more questionable voice

Yeah. Science, bitch!

Bastard

Barricade

ACAB ACAB ACAB ACAB ACAB

GOLD FACE

Get's screamed at a lot

Skytread

Secretly doesn't condone Megatron's shit

Wants to be punched in the face

Does not want to be shot in the face

Spinister

Generic bad guy #1

Gets stabbed in the tit

Vortex is that u

Hotlink

Generic bad guy #2

Does not get stabbed in the tit

Skywarp is that u

Laserbeak

Birb

Sees all

Caw

Ravage

A good boy

STOP THROWING HIM AROUND

This is animal abuse I'm calling PETA

Soundblaster

Radical

He's gonna make you an offer you can't refuse

Soundwave's cooler cousin

Deeseus

ORDER IN THE COURT

Cut off 4 of it's 5 faces so it could get it's shit together

Still does not have it's shit together

Doubledealer

Lockdown WHOMS'T

Bitch better have my money

Gets posessed by his client

Skylinx

#deep

(How does he see???)

Wisdom dog 2.0

Ahaha that was the old me

Dude's just vibing in space

Scorponok

YOU PICKED THE WRONG HOUSE FOOL

Impressive vocabulary

Will insult you eloquently

(((Fr he's been through so much trauma; he lost his family, became the last of his kind, is probably suffering from PTSD and now two groups of strangers invade his home and start shooting at him. Homeboy has every right to be pissed off)))

Omega Supreme

Nuh uh I ain't getting involved

*gets involved 10 mins later*

Aight what did I miss?

Galvatron

The embodiment of the 'Who are you? / I'm you...but stronger' meme

Gets lit the fuck up

Nemesis Prime

*Glare*

Of course he only gets 2 seconds of screentime

[starjack]

Thank you, @pixeledpurple for finally giving this starjack writing request blog a starjack writing request. It’s not totally exact, but I hope you still enjoy it. 

Quarantined 

Wheeljack was working in the lab, his head hunched over a circuit board. Wisps of smoke curled up from the tip of the soldering iron. He sniffled against the smoke and rolled his shoulders to banish the ache. After a couple more connections he sat up and stretched, pulling his arms above his head until his shoulders cracked. 

“Oof,” he sighed. He checked his chrono and kept at it. 

The door to the lab slid open. The grating voice that followed was unmistakable. “Wheeljack, do you have a moment?”

Wheeljack didn’t look away from his work. “Give me a sec.” He burned another wire into place then sat up. “Whataya need?”

Starscream sauntered around the work bench and made himself at home atop it, crossing one leg over the other so his foot nearly brushed Wheeljack’s shoulder. “I want you to decide where we’re going on our date. You never gave me an answer.”

Wheeljack’s fins blinked. He clicked off the soldering iron and put it down. “Our date?”

“Yes, last week. You asked me on a date, and I haven't heard anything since, so I thought I’d take the initiative.”  

Wheeljack’s face began to warm, he swallowed the lump in his throat and held his hands tightly together. “Must’a been some mistake. I don’t remember asking you to go on a date.”

“Yes, you did, after you gave me the report,” Starscream pointed in the air from one event to the other. “You were about to walk out and then you stopped and haphazardly asked me if I wanted to go out sometime, and I said yes, and you haven’t spoken to me since.”

“You said yes?”

Starscream furrowed his brow and sneered. “Yes,” he snapped. He hopped off the table and turned to walk away. “But if it was just some stupid prank-”

Wheeljack sprung out of his seat. “No no-” he reached forward and brushed Starscream’s shoulder, but quickly drew back. Once the steely red eyes landed on him, Wheeljack felt a weight hit his chest. “Uh, no. It wasn’t a prank.”

“Then how come you haven’t been answering my comms?”

“Just been workin’, that’s all.”

Starscream stared past his nose, his lips pulled into a loose purse. “Alright,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “So where are we going?” He asked slowly.

“Going,” Wheeljack clapped his hands together. “Uh-” he shrugged, smiling behind the mask. “We can go wherever you want.”

Starscream cocked a brow. “Wherever I want?”

“Yup."

“Are you sure about that?”

Wheeljack opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead he nodded. “Yup.” He croaked. “Anywhere.”

“Hm,” Starscream flashed his smirk. “Okay. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“I bet you will.” 

“When?”

“What?”

“When is the date.” 

“When?”

Starscream rolled his eyes. “Do you need a reboot. Yes, when, give me a day and time. I do have a life.”

“Uhh-” Wheeljack glanced at the work on his table. “Uhhhhh-” he looked back at Starscream. “Tomorrow?”

“Is that a question?”

“Yes?”

Starscream shook his head. “Sure,” he flicked a hand. “Tomorrow.” He turned on a heel and made to leave. 

Wheeljack’s fingers fiddled at his sides. “H-hey,” he called. 

Starscream stopped but didn’t turn around. 

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “How about tonight?” He proposed. 

Starscream turned halfway around. “You’re busy.”

“I don’t gotta be.” Wheeljack flapped his hand at the workbench. “That can wait.”

Starscream hummed. “No,” he checked his talons. “I’d rather our romantic evening not be a rush job. I’ll just see you tomorrow.” 

As soon as Starscream took a step, the door slid shut in his face. A red light began to dance through the room. “What?” He muttered to himself, still staring at the closed door he hadn’t touched. He whipped around. “Wheeljack!”

Wheeljack put both of his hands up. “Not me.”

“Primus help me,” Starscream snarled, hoping on his comm. He opened a channel to anyone working in the basement. “Someone tell me what the frag is going on,” he demanded. 

An unfamiliar voice came over the comm. “There’s been a rust leak, the entire floor is being quarantined.”

“A what!” Starscream screeched. 

“Rust,” Wheeljack piped up. “We keep less potent samples of Cosmic rust in the biolab to study.”

Starscream turned off his comm. “Oh that’s just peachy,” he grumbled. “How long are we stuck down here?”

Wheeljack shrugged. “Dunno. Could be minutes, could be hours.”

“Great. Just great,” Starscream kicked the door. He growled, his wings going to full height. His hand shot out and pointed to the red flashing light. “How long does that stay on?”

“Till the lockdown is over.”

“Good to know.” 

Starscream marched to one of the work benches. He found a large wrench in one of the drawers, hauled it over to the wall and smashed the red flashing light to pieces. 

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of,” he turned around and tossed the wrench aside. “Got a deck of cards or something?”

Starscream beat Wheeljack at six games of War and three games of Spit, when asked to play blackjack, Wheeljack wholeheartedly refused, citing Starscream’s history of cheating and sneaking. 

“Oh, Wheeljack,” Starscream purred, cleaning up their last game. “I would never. Now is the perfect time to establish a basis of trust,” he snorted a brief laugh but quickly collected himself. “Since we’re potentially entering a relationship. I'd hate to go into that thinking you can’t trust me.”

“You cheated at War.”

“Is putting my aces at the bottom and drawing from the bottom really cheating?” 

“Yes.”

“I disagree. But anyways,” Starscream smiled. “As much as I hate everything about this, at least now you have the time to think about where you’re taking me.”

“When?”

Starscream smile dropped. “On our date.”

“Oh, right,” Wheeljack nodded wide. “That.”

Starscream reshuffled the cards in his hands. “I think you should pick.”

“Why?”

Starscream shrugged, staring at the cards. “Well, you asked me. You should be the one who plans it.”

“But you're a participant, so you should participate.”

“I want to be treated, Wheeljack. I don’t want to have to do anything.”

“Is that why you said yes?” Wheeljack tried to swallow the dryness in his mouth. “Thought you were gonna get a nice dinner outta me?” He spoke a little louder. “Not to start a fight, but if that’s all you wanted then I don’t think I wanna do it.”

Starscream furrowed his brow, placing the cards down on the table but keeping his hand on top of the deck. “No.” There was no bite to his words. “I said yes because I wanted to go on a date with you.”

Wheeljack’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”

“You thought I didn’t.”

“Well, I mean. I mean you’re,” Wheeljack gestured him. “Ya know. You’re. Ya know.”

Starscream leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “I’m what?”

“Ya know. You. You’re you.”

“And that is?”

“Don’t make me play this game, Starscream, you know what that is.”

“Ah, yes,” Starscream nodded, sitting up straight. “The cold, calculating, manipulative, unliked, Me. That’s it.” 

“I didn’t mean that-”

“Then what did you mean?”

Wheeljack’s mouth snapped shut. “That’s what I meant,” he admitted weakly. 

“That’s what I thought.” Starscream’s eyes became sharp. “You know, Wheeljack, I try really hard not to lie to you. I would appreciate it if you showed me the same courtesy.”

Wheeljack scoffed. “Please.”

“And I know you find that hard to believe, but it’s true.” Starscream sneered to himself. “I-” he spoke slowly. “Value your companionship. You’ve been a good friend.”

Wheeljack thumbed his fingers atop the table. “Well, thanks. I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

“Tell me honestly. Did you ask me out because you wanted to?”

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “No,” he admitted. “Ironhide dared me.”

Starscream’s wings went all the way down. “Thanks.” He said, his voice tight. He stood from his stool and walked to the other side of the room. He sat down, took a datapad out of his subspace and started reading. 

Wheeljack slid the deck of cards across the table and tucked it under his hands. He clenched his jaw, moving his tongue around his mouth. Ironhide had dared him two weeks ago to ask “The Screamer,” on a date to see if Wheeljack got ripped to shreds or, better yet, laughed at. But when Starscream said yes, Ironhide told Wheeljack that the last thing he should do was go on that date. He said that Starscream probably said yes out of boredom or as a joke in return. As if it were so far fetched that Starscream would genuinely want to go on a date with him. 

Now Wheeljack wasn’t so sure. 

Ironhide probably didn’t mean anything by it, telling Wheeljack that Starscream would never want to go on a date with him. As surprised as he was, Wheeljack was admittedly looking forward to going on a real date. His first real date in millions of years, even if it was with Starscream, it was something normal. Something leisurely, after not being able to do anything for leisure almost the entire time he was alive. 

Wheeljack stood up and walked to the workbench that Starscream had claimed. He was staring at his datapad, but his eyes didn’t move around the page. His brow was stuck in a furrow. 

“What do you want.” He said. “I’m busy.”

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “Ya know, I really did want to go on a date with you-”

“Save it,” Starscream spat. He clicked off the datapad. “You don’t need to lie anymore. I know I’m just a joke to you, like I am to everyone else. I don’t want to listen to your bullshit.”

Wheeljack thrummed his fingers atop the table. “I’m sorry I lied-”

“I knew you were lying. You think after a million years I can’t spot a liar. You’re not good at it.”

Wheeljack swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ya know, it’s hard to tell with you.” He waited for a response, but didn’t get one. He went on. “Yer the most notorious liar in the world. How was I supposed to know you weren’t playing me back.”

Starscream’s wing rattled. “What would I have to gain.”

“I dunno-”

“Why would I ever do that?” Starscream finally looked at him. “I’m not allowed to want a little bit of normalcy? Or maybe, potentially, by chance, be attracted to you?”

Wheeljack’s fins blinked. “Yer attracted to me.”

Starscream tapped his claw on the table. “Maybe.”

Wheeljack drew back. “Oh.”

Starscream waded his head back and forth, rolling his eyes. “I guess now you want to date me, huh? What a joke.”

“No no, I was serious before when I said that I was serious about wanting to go on a date with you. Ironhide convinced me not to.”

Starscream scoffed. “Weak.”

“I’m allowed to be cautious.” 

“Whatever.”

Wheeljack turned in his seat. “Hey, listen, I’d still be up for a date if you are.”

“If we ever get out of here.”

“Who says we need to get outta here,” Wheeljack climbed out of his seat and went over to his cot in the corner. He took a bottle of high grade from under the bed, grabbed two freshly cleaned beakers from beside the sink, and returned to the work bench. He smiled at Starscream. “We can make our own date.”

Starscream cocked a brow. “Really?”

Wheeljack poured the high grade. “Listen, I know you didn’t want our romantic encounter to be a rush job, but think about it,” he pushed one glass over to Starscream. “What’s more romantic than being totally alone with high grade?”

Starscream accepted his glass. “No one to bother us.”

“Or interrupt.”

“No annoying onlookers,” Starscream hummed as he brought the high grade to his lips. “Maybe you’ve got a point.”

Wheeljack nodded, retracting his mask to sip his drink. 

Starscream’s eyes dimmed. “So,” he drawled, a smirk slipping onto his lip. “What, exactly, do you think someone would be  interrupting?”

Wheeljack blinked. “Heh,” his fingers tapped the side of the glass. “Just this. Our time together.”

Starscream chuckled. “What, no moves?”

“I already made my move. It’s your turn.”

“Oh, it’s my job now?” Starscream smiled, showing his teeth. “Alright. Let me think, I’m a little rusty.”

“I can wait.”

Starscream stared off into space for a moment. “Hmm. Okay.” He pursed his lips. “So? Come here often?”

Wheeljack broke out into laughter. He held his chest and threw his head back. 

Starscream nearly choked on his engex. He shoved Wheeljack’s shoulder. “Shut up, it wasn’t that funny.”

Wheeljack struggled to catch his breath. “Yo-you’re face,” he laughed. “What the hell was that face?”

“I was trying to be sexy.”

“If ya wanted that, you got it.”

Starscream covered his smile with his cup. “Hm.”

Wheeljack swallowed his next sip in a big gulp. “Too forward?”

“I’m allowed to be attractive just as much as you are.

“Aw, you think I’m attractive?”

“Very.”

“I’m flattered.”

“It’s true.” Starscream hooked his feet on the bar of Wheeljack’s stool. “I find you very attractive.”

Wheeljack put his hand on his chest. “Are you saying? That you’re only going on a date with me? Because I’m attractive?”

Starscream barked a laugh. “You’re sly when you want to be.”

Wheeljack held up his drink. “I got some tricks.”

Starscream finished off his glass in one swig and slammed it back down on the bench. “Pour me another.”

Wheeljack poured another glass. They chatted for a better part of an hour. Starscream was surprisingly talkative with a little bit of engex in him, and not nearly as mean and crude and dismissive as Wheeljack was expecting. Starscream even told the occasional joke, even after he stopped drinking. They shared war stories and work stories, and stories about experiments gone wrong. 

“One time Shockwave was tasked with creating a gun that could turn inanimate things into rust. And of course, being me, I decided to make it infinitely harder on him.”

“Oh, so this one wasn’t an accident,” Wheeljack laughed. 

“Heh, no.”

Wheeljack laughed harder. 

“Listen, that one eyed bolt-for-a-brain was trying to weaponize cosmic rust, and I told him, ‘are you fragging stupid? You’ll get us all killed.’ and of course, being the almighty Shockwave, he didn’t give a frag what I said. So I let loose all of the rust samples in his lab. He had a nasty rust infection under his chassis for a month. Megatron was furious. At me, of course, because I could never keep the smirk off my face.”

“I gotta say, Starscream, if there’s one things the Autobot’s could say good about you, it’s that you certainly are bold.”

“The only way to survive in the cesspit was to be bold. I never got to have anything but a backbone and chafed knees,” he smiled, outlining the edge of the glass with his fingertip. “Part of the reason I was so eager to do something like this.”

“Yeah, same here. Working day-in, day-out, Prime puttting a new project on my table every week, expects it the next day. Sometimes I just wanted to shout, ‘listen buddy, you want this built you can do it yerself.’ They worked me to the bone, I’ll say that much.”

Starscream nodded. “I’m glad it's over.”

“Kinda feels weird. Still feels like yesterday we were tryin’a kill each other.”

“Let’s see what a few more years will do.”

“Or maybe just a few more minutes.”

As soon as the worlds came out of Wheeljack’s mouth, the door of the lab snapped open. Starscream looked over his shoulder at the open threshold. 

“Or not.”

Wheeljack got off his stool, walked over to the door, closed and locked it. He shrugged. “I dunno. Looks like the door’s still closed to me.”

Starscream smiled. 

Wheeljack returned to his seat.

[desdemonafictional]

Black Hole Sun

@zephuckyr was reading “Corona of Light” right after I posted it and blew my fucking mind with the concept of “what if the terrible person Rung had sex with when he was desperate and horny was Starscream”. And I was immediately like, fuck, Starscream is the king of maladaptive hate sex.

Empurata Rung AU, three pages of completely plotless rungscream smut and Starscream being genuinely horrible but also, unfortunately, quite Good At Sex.

---

Being taken by Starscream was like being screwed by a whirlwind. You might survive, Rung thought, but it wouldn’t be up to you if you did. 

There was nothing to hold on to, here. Starscream was all bared fangs and cruel lips as he loomed over Rung, two fingers shoved tight in the clench of Rung’s valve. With every thrust his knuckles slammed against the tender mesh, his fingertips curling to grind against a sensory node already at the sparking edge of too much. Rung moaned wretchedly, claws trembling where he held his thighs open, displaying his valve the way Starscream had ordered him to.

They had started out on the main floor, among the rest of the decepticons, doing their individual work. Starscream rarely spent much more time in the office than he had to, and so it had drawn Rung’s attention that Starscream seemed to be biding his leisurely time, half seated on one of the desks, his schedule in his hand. He’d looked up, met Rung’s eye, and sneered.

Then as Rung was passing in front of him, he’d reached out and groped the smaller bot, his hand roughly cupping underneath Rung’s pelvis. Rung had frozen, trembling with a barrage of pings from various internal systems, and when Starcream had squeezed him just as casually, he’d crushed his datapad tight against his chest and tried to vent air.

Starscream didn’t look at him again until the floor was almost entirely empty, but Rung felt eyes on his back all the same. And then, in the falling quiet, Starscream had swung up to his feet.

Against his better judgment, Rung had allowed the promise of hungry eyes and rough passing touches to draw him down into the predator’s den, where Starscream hit the door button and immediately rounded on him, marching him backwards across the floor. When they reached Starscream’s berth, the jet had pressed his palm flat against Rung’s spark glass and forced him down, onto his back, climbing up atop him without a moment of mercy.

Of course this was a bad idea. But somehow knowing it was a bad idea beforehand just made it harder to say no. At least he had no delusions about what Starscream was like; the viscous resentment lay on his lips like a gloss of lubricant, licked straight from Rung’s yearning, desperate core. Like what was slicked there now, from the first round of sucking and slurping that had left Rung dizzied and pliable in his grip.

Starscream had pulled his glossa free at the last moment, just as Rung was bracing himself for overload, and then he’d folded Rung back and told him to hold himself open, you do know how to do that, don’t you?

And then he’d gone back to it, not intensely enough to push Rung over the edge--just teasing the valve rim, leaving slow and searing licks up the curve of valve lips, until Rung was so lost in the tide of wonderful warmth and sweetness that his voice choked out a broken, “-Megatro--n…”

Starscream froze against him, fangs just barely clicking against the seam of a hip joint. Rung froze too.

Starscream’s optics were the dark heat of a smelting pit, molten rage boiling behind the inset glass. A gun to the spark could not have been more frightening than his fangs glinting against Rung’s plating. 

“What,” he said, his voice terrifyingly flat.

“I,” Rung said, “I’m--Starscream--”

“You want Megatron here?” Starscream spat. “Is Megatron the one eating your valve right now? Is Megatron the one who came in here and put his glossa inside your fucked up frame?” 

Rung shook his head slowly.

“Who’s giving it to you right now?” Starscream demanded, jamming three fingers into the swollen wetness of Rung’s valve. 

“You are,” Rung choked out.

“And who’s spike do you want?” Starscream said, with another hard thrust.

Rung scrabbled at the berth. “Y-yours.”

“You better not forget it again,” Starscream hissed, sinking the sharp fingertips of his free hand into Rung’s seams. “I’m the one fucking you. I’m the only one who wants your disgusting little gash, not Megatron.”

Rung made a noise that he hoped was affirmative. 

The stroking inside of him was so firm and so relentless--the nodes inside of him seemed swollen with the attention, abused and still hungry. Starscream pinned him under his stare, aware of every slight tremor, every jolt. 

If Rung could have bitten his lip, he would have. Overload was crackling at the edges of his sensory suite, building at the base of his spinal strut, promising him the numb bliss of relief.

And then Starscream pulled free once more, shaking out his hand to snap the strand of lubricant trailing from it. The clench inside Rung convulsed, so close to something it wanted so badly. Rung sagged, vents gasping for air. “Please,” he rasped, “I’m almost—please, I’m so close.”

Starscream pinched his swollen node and twisted, causing Rung’s back to snap into an arch and his arms to desperately pull his legs tighter against his midsection. The dribbling valve spread wider, but Starscream ignored it. He didn’t let go until Rung’s legs started to twitch desperately, barely stopping short of kicking.

“You get what I give you,” he said, drawing his hand back. “So don’t bother begging, it just makes you look more pitiful.”

Rung’s node throbbed, hot and bright in his array. Starscream traced the ring of housing where Rung’s spike had been, before they’d ripped it out along with his hands and most of his face.  The housing was just sensitive enough that the light brush of fingertips sent shivers up Rung’s back.

“Open it,” Starscream demanded.

“What?” Rung said.

Starscream bore down against the closed spike cover with one finger. “This wreckage. Open it.”

The air pouring out of Starscream’s vents was superheated; his eyes were wild. Rung obeyed, irising open the empty spikehome. Starscream’s finger slipped into him, prodding around, until his downward stroke lit up something that made Rung throw his head back and choke out a moan. 

His whole array started warming again, faster this time, still primed from the last near overload. Starscream leaned down over him, bracing against his chest with a forearm, swirling the tip of his finger lazily against the hollow that had once held a spike. 

“Is it good?” Starscream sneered, “Do you like that?”

Rung’s mewls tangled in his throat, until he realized he was sobbing, desperately pushing up against the finger shoved into him.

Starscream’s lip curled; his eyes glowed hot. “Pathetic,” he said. “Look at you, so wet for it you’ll let me fuck anything. If I could fit my spike in this hole I’d fuck you and then come inside of it, and you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Rung wasn’t sure he would like that, but he wasn’t sure of anything at the moment except how badly he wanted to overload. 

“When I ask you a question,” Starscream hissed, “I expect you to answer it! Tell me you want me to fuck you, glitch. Tell me you want it whatever way I want it.”

“I want it,” Rung said, which was the truth. “However--you give it to me--”

A dangerous smile pulled Starscream’s lips. “Good bot,” he said, and withdrew his hand. He grabbed the crooks of Rung’s knees and pushed them over his shoulders, settling Rung’s array in front of his face.

“You think Megatron could make you feel this?” Starscream muttered viciously, jerking Rung tight against him. “You think Megatron would do this to you, you think he’d do anything but grind out one clumsy overload for himself and then roll over? You and your wet little valve, all full of transfluid with nowhere to go, you’d wish you had me then.” 

And then he bit down on Rung’s node, just hard enough to make Rung shout. His glossa left wide hot strokes up the cleft of Rung’s valve.

He ate Rung out like it was a military campaign, grabbing him with his teeth whenever Rung tried to arch away or push up into it, indiscriminately punishing. 

He ate Rung out until Rung was shaking so badly his plating rattled, spark guttering and flaring behind the glass. He ate Rung out until the whimpering turned into mewling, and then Starscream crawled up over him and thrust home into the swollen, pulsing channel.

“This is where you come,” Starscream snarled, “this is where you get your fix, you follow?”

Rung moaned, grabbing Starscream’s arms.

“You need it, I’m the one who’s got it,” Starscream said, his voice rough and uneven from the strain of pounding into Rung.

Rung had just enough processor power to feel a twisted kind of gratitude that Starscream didn’t seem to expect a reply. He couldn’t have managed one. He only held on tight, frame desperate and straining for the overload he’d been denied three times before, as Starscream forced his spike deeper into tight and tender mesh. The dataport started to twitch, aborted little half clenches every time Starscream slammed home against it.

“Lock me,” Starscream said, “lock me now.”

Rung looked up at him, onlining his optic again belatedly, and was caught off guard by the feral intensity of Starscream’s expression--his cruel fangs, his glowing eyes, the snarl of his mouth as he ground himself into Rung, demanding to be crowned the winner of some deranged game only he knew how to play.

Rung reached up, shakily, and took Starscream’s helm in his claw.

There was a terrible pleasure, in being the center of someone’s world like that. A terrible elation. An addictive horror.

His dataport cycled down around Starscream’s spike, and in the bare moment before overload cascaded through both of them, there was only the hiss of triumph turning Starscream’s mouth into something cruel and beautiful and impossible to refuse.

[ckret2]

The Dead Unsung Heroes Club

Pairing: Starscream/Wheeljack Wordcount: 13800 Notes: This is my gift fic this year for @secretsolenoid​, for Ray! The request that I was writing: IDW RiD/TAAO: Starscream/Wheeljack, Prompt: bonding over doing something science-y.

Summary: One moment, Wheeljack is dead. The next he's on the inside of a dark bubble-shaped planet listening as Starscream explains that Unicron was defeated, they're somewhere midway between life and death, and Starscream hauled Wheeljack there because he needs an engineer's help upgrading some busted Unicron parts into a machine that will let Starscream get back to the living world. But the longer Wheeljack helps Starscream, and the more he talks with the other mechs scattered through limbo with them, the more certain he is that Starscream is keeping secrets from Wheeljack about the purpose of this project—first and foremost that his motives aren't nearly as selfish as he's led Wheeljack to believe.

The afterlife wasn't something Wheeljack had spent a lot of time thinking about, but he supposed that if he were to guess what it would be like, he wouldn't have guessed this. The Afterspark, if that was what it was, was a tiny pinprick of light, so impossibly small, so impossibly far away and yet so close it might have been within him. In a way, it reminded him of... but no, he supposed there was really nothing he could compare it to.

It was so small. How was he supposed to fit into it? But then the more he stared at it, the more he realized how dazzling the tiny light was. Maybe it wasn't small; maybe Wheeljack was the small one, closed up so tight he could only get a glimpse at the light. Maybe if he opened up... unraveled... piece by piece, let himself dissolve and drift away... and the more he stretched out, the more he dissipated, the more he left behind who he had once been, the brighter the light got, until...

Just before he dissolved into nothing, something behind him reached out and grabbed a hand he didn't remember he had, and said a name he'd almost forgotten. And then he was pulled backwards into the dark.

The next thing he knew was Starscream.

"That was a close one. We almost lost you," Starscream said, a little too close to Wheeljack and smiling like he meant it. "A few more minutes—or whatever passes for minutes around here, I don't know—and you would have been gone for good. You're welcome."

Wheeljack was getting a little too used to waking up from certain death, disoriented and confused, to be greeted by an overexcited Starscream in a new body. "You're blue."

Starscream beamed. "More blue, yes."

"And... curvy? Your optics are magenta." Nobody had magenta optics.

Starscream was practically preening under the factual analysis of his new frame—thrusters humming, wings tilting. "Do you like it?"

Wheeljack shrugged vaguely. "I thought you looked nice in red."

Starscream immediately scowled. "Excuse me. This is my body. My true body! It's how I'm supposed to look."

"Oh," Wheeljack said, completely uncomprehending. "Okay."

He was, he realized, splayed on the ground; he very carefully sat up and looked around. "... Hold on. It's... is this the... that city in the center of Cybertron?"

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Starscream scanned the empty organic city and blank black sky with obvious disdain. "It's a pity, but we can rip out the trees."

"What's... where are... Where's Unicron?"

"Primus. I expect he's off cuddling with Optimus somewhere."

Wheeljack gave Starscream a blank look. He was still too dazed to be shocked.

Starscream shrugged. "Yeah. I know."

"What about Elonia?"

"Saved! The population, anyway." Starscream clapped a hand on Wheeljack's shoulder, beaming, and Wheeljack jolted as his fuzzy thoughts jerked back into focus around the point where Starscream was touching him. "You did great work. You rescued everyone except yourself. I don't think anyone's bothered to recognize your sacrifice besides me, though. But hey, welcome to the unsung heroes club. We don't do it for the glory, right?" Starscream, who could probably count on one hand the number of things he hadn't done for glory, gave Wheeljack a rakish and thoroughly convincing smile. He tried to stand back up, but Wheeljack clapped a hand over Starscream's to keep it in place; so, after a moment of hesitation, Starscream knelt down next to Wheeljack. 

His thoughts were coming back into focus now, and working at double time trying to piece together what had happened since Elonia.  "Hold on—'except myself'? What's going on? Where's the sky? Where are the other people? Why is—no, how—no, why is Optimus cuddling Unicron? What do you mean, 'unsung heroes'? Did..." He looked at Starscream, somewhere between nervous and horrified. "Are we dead?"

Starscream didn't look back at him. "Wwwellll..." He raised his shoulders, grimacing uncertainly. "Define 'dead.'"

Wheeljack slid out from under Starscream's hand, flopped on his back, and stared at the blank sky.

"Welcome to infraspace."

Wheeljack made a strangled noise.

Starscream left Wheeljack alone for a bit to adjust.

Well. "Alone." He spent about half an hour doing aerial acrobatics through the empty sky directly above Wheeljack. Wheeljack kind of thought Starscream was trying to sell him on the new body. Wheeljack kind of thought the look was a little "Thundercracker develops Primus apotheosis," but it was growing on him.

Once he'd recovered sufficiently, Starscream filled him in.

Unicron was dead, but so was Cybertron and every one of its colonies except Earth. They'd all evacuated from one planet to another and most people had made it. Some had died. Most didn't! But a whole lot of stars were eaten. Starscream hadn't heard about how the rest of the galaxy was faring yet.

Anyone who'd died in direct contact with the Talisman's energy had ended up here, in infraspace, the Afterspark's waiting room. Starscream was here, of course—died activating the Talisman to burrow its way into Unicron, as he explained to Wheeljack in excessive detail, and of course Optimus was the only one getting recognition. Blurr was here, another member of Starscream's "unsung heroes" club. Kup was around somewhere, he liked to tell everyone tales about how this place was just like the Dead Universe but not as bad, and what's his name that guy with six modes—anyway, a load of Autobots, so they and Starscream politely tolerated each other. Optimus was shacking up with the organic that made/was Unicron and wanted to be left alone, and Starscream, for one, was more than happy to respect his wishes. Sometimes Shockwave ducked in for a few minutes, but they threw stuff at him and shouted insults until he stopped astral projecting from Prowl's prison ship.

And then Wheeljack had to lay down and stare at the sky again.

"So," Wheeljack asked, "How do—how do you know what's going on back in—what's the opposite of infraspace? Ultraspace?"

"We've just been calling it 'the real world,'" Starscream said. "Wouldn't ultraspace be..." he made a gesture like something leapfrogging over an item, "beyond normal space?"

"Oh. I guess so." Wheeljack shrugged.

They were sitting on the rim of a nonfunctional stone fountain. It was a little low for comfort, but it was nearby and there weren't exactly Cybertronian-scale benches around here. Starscream kept switching between crossing his legs and pulling his knees halfway to his chest; Wheeljack's legs were stretched out in front of him. 

"Okay, how do you know what's going on in the real world, then? You haven't been getting news from Shockwave, have you?"

Starscream scoffed. "Please! As if I'd accept anything from that one-eyed, two-faced spawn of a glitch—even information. In fact, I'd go so far as to say especially information."

That was a bit more emphatic than Wheeljack had expected. Sneering disdain, sure—but not that scowl, not that venom. "Something happen?"

Besides the ores, the time travel, the attempt to destroy the universe, the weird manipulative mind game he'd played with their entire species, and the fact that he'd spent like three fourths of recorded Cybertronian history pretending to be a horse. Starscream wasn't bothered by what people did to other people. Despite what most believed about Starscream, Wheeljack didn't doubt that Starscream did have a strong sense of right and wrong; it was just that, for him, most of the time, right and wrong were merely an intellectual exercise. He wouldn't start burning in rage over what Shockwave had done—even if Cybertron, or the galaxy, or the entire universe should fall—until and unless it affected Starscream personally.

And Starscream evidently understood that was what Wheeljack was going for, because he didn't waste time reminding him of Shockwave's many reprehensible crimes. He snorted. "It's a long story and I'm not going to tell it. Let's just say Shockwave is the pettiest mech I've ever met in my life—and I'm including myself on that list—and that my last couple of days were pretty bad for my ego, and leave it at that."

Well, that could cover just about anything. "Does your ego have very many good days?" He said it wryly, but part of him genuinely wondered—and worried.

Sure, Starscream was far from the best bot to ever peel himself out of the ground (or, no, come off the assembly line, hadn't he?) but he wasn't completely without virtues. He was brilliant, he was cunning—those were two different things—he had a wit as sharp and precise as a scalpel, and he was a machiavellian mastermind in a way that was a wonder to behold when it was turned toward more noble end goals, even if "noble" wasn't anywhere among Starscream's intentions. All of his virtues had a faint miasma of ill intent around them, sure—but they were there, and they were undeniable. Wheeljack wondered how many people actually bothered to acknowledge that. It didn't seem like nearly enough.

Starscream replied to Wheeljack's question with an equally wry smile. "Well, I realize you were having a pretty bad day at the time and probably don't remember, but I was elected supreme leader of Cybertron this one time. That day was pretty good for my ego."

Wheeljack laughed. "Right! Of course."

"And I made it to precinct senator once," Starscream said. “That wasn't a half bad day. Oh, and I was made second-in-command of an army. Perhaps you hadn't heard of that? I think you may have been on the other side."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point."

Wheeljack was just beginning to wonder whether Starscream had ever felt validated on any days other than ones where he'd just been handed some massive promotion and an equally massive amount of power, when suddenly Starscream glanced away, his smirk slipping down to a smile that was a little smaller and a little more genuine, and said, "Chosen One Day wasn't bad either."

Really? It ranked right up there with being declared supreme ruler of the planet? "Well—"

"And your little speech."

Wheeljack shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under the way Starscream was glancing sideways at him. "Oh. Well, uh." He shrugged again. "It—wasn't a bad holiday. So. Good going on that." He reset his vocalizer noisily. "Anyway, you still haven't answered my question."

"Which question?"

"About—about the real world. Living world. About how you know what's going on out there."

"Oh, that!" Starscream's optics lit up, and he leaned closer toward Wheeljack, grinning conspiratorially. It was a look that Wheeljack had only seen him make a couple of times before—even with a new faceplate and paint, it looked the same—and it always showed up immediately preceding Starscream asking Wheeljack to do something outrageous, dangerous, and miraculous. He was wary of the smile.

But he always did what Starscream asked when he made it, so, what did it say about him?

"Can you keep a secret?"

Wheeljack hesitated. "... From?"

"From—the others." Starscream gestured vaguely around. "You know. Them."

"The other Autobots?"

"Yes, them."

"You're, uh, doing things that the Autobots wouldn't approve of," Wheeljack said, "and you think I—a whole Autobot—am gonna be okay with it?"

Starscream scoffed. "You're sixty percent Autobot at most." Wheeljack didn't have time to work out whether Starscream meant that as a compliment or an insult, much less which way he personally was going to take it, before Starscream went on, “Anyway, it's not that they wouldn't approve. They'd want in on it. They'd want Optimus in on it. And I'd rather he not. Call me selfish, but I'd rather keep this one little project to myself."

"Why don't you want Optimus in on it?"

"When you see, you'll know."

"And I don't get to see until I've already promised not to tell, right?"

Starscream smirked.

Wheeljack sighed. "Well, with terms like that, how can I refuse?" He knew he'd regret it just a little bit more if he didn't go than if he did.

"I knew you'd see it my way." Starscream slung an arm around Wheeljack's shoulders, and he tried not to focus on the weight of it, the warmth of him. For the first time, Wheeljack really realized just how cold this place, this strange demilitarized zone between life and death, really was. No—not cold, exactly. Devoid of warmth. Temperatureless, somehow. All except for Starscream. 

Wheeljack really wasn't doing a very good job of ignoring Starscream's arm.

"Come on!" And now Starscream had his hand on Wheeljack's shoulder, squeezing, and it was going to be a miracle if he could think of anything else ever again. "Let's get going. You're going to absolutely love this."

Prowl had found out, and Jetfire had confirmed, that Unicron was sucking energy from the cores of distant stars in order to power itself. Half of the machinery that allowed this feat had been located somewhere inside Unicron itself; the other half had been located in the black hole at its heart, deep inside infraspace. Which meant, somehow, the machinery could reach out from infraspace to the real world. And if it could, maybe it could be used to help someone else in infraspace reach the real world.

Well. No "maybe" about it. It could. And Starscream had. Not quite corporeally—he'd gone as not much more than a specter, and thus far had only managed to make contact with Bumblebee, Starscream suspected it was because he'd also spent a fair amount of time in infraspace—but he'd gone. It had only worked a couple of times, though, and then stopped; now Starscream needed Wheeljack's help to get it working for good.

Wheeljack had spent too much of the past few hours feeling flabbergasted for this new revelation to blow him away. ("Hours"? Were hours still a thing here? Wheeljack wasn't sure how long he'd been here, but his fuel levels hadn't fluctuated, nor his energy levels. It felt like his body was in limbo, ever-unchanging.) So he immediately got to work examining the machinery.

It was located inside a misshapen facility, lit by only a few large high windows and sparse lighting that Starscream thought must be powered by this “magic” thing they’d all heard so much about lately, because it sure wasn’t electricity. The interior, alien though it clearly was, looked like a cobbled-together mix between a boiler room and a factory floor.

Much of the machinery had been very clearly—not shut down, because it didn't appear capable of being shut down, designed to run forever without end—but disabled, panels removed and wires expertly snipped, components and cogs neatly removed. Starscream took credit for that—"I think they were still sucking up stars—just slower—so I shut those parts of it down,"—and not for the first time, Wheeljack was struck by the way that, if Starscream didn't have anything immediately self-serving he needed to do, the next thing he defaulted to doing was almost always the right thing. And again not for the first time, Wheeljack wondered what kind of an amazing person Starscream might have been if he wasn't so frantically trying to convince everyone around him that he was amazing. He'd wasted his life on a con telling lies about himself that would have all been true if he hadn't instead wasted his life on the con.

And sometimes Wheeljack ached to think of it. He'd ached whenever he watched Starscream put on that self-assured, self-deprecating smirk he wore when he wanted everyone to know he'd done something secret that they'd hate him for if they knew, and he'd ached when he'd watched Starscream stand before the whole world and politely confess to every crime he'd committed while wearing the crown, and he'd ached when he heard the previously-penitent Starscream had escaped in the wake of "Onyx Prime's" jarring arrival and was running riot with the Decepticons.

And he ached now, hearing Starscream explain how he'd saved all the stars in all the galaxy from slowly suffocating, with a wirecutter here and a ratchet there—how he'd saved the entire galaxy, not for laudation, but simply because it needed to be done and Starscream was here and could do it.

One mechanism controlled the flow of energy back and forth from real world Unicron to infraspace Unicron, and that was where they were focused now. It was a particularly tall, roughly cylindrical machine standing by itself in a circular room with a couple of high windows that didn’t so much bring in light as suggest that light was invited in if any happened to be in the vicinity and wanted to drop by. Instead, the room was brightly illuminated by a plethora of glowing orbs that liked to hover a few inches over whatever surface they’d been set on, and that Starscream advised Wheeljack not to touch with his bare hands. He’d scavenged them from New Prysmos.

“It's really quite simple for anyone who knows a bit of rudimentary mechanical engineering," Starscream explained, one side of the machine peeled open so he could lean in with a flashlight and explain which Cybertronian parts were equivalent to these alien components. Every once in a while he would stammer over a name, call it a "doohickey" or "the fast zappy bit, you know," and Wheeljack would supply the real term, surprised and pleased that Starscream knew what they were for and how they worked, even if he didn't know all the right terms. "Just about any species that's invented faster-than-light travel could have made a thingy like this to instantaneously transfer energy across vast spaces—"

"An energy ansible," Wheeljack said.

"I thought 'ansible' was only for faster-than-light communication devices?"

"Sure, unless you put the word 'energy' in front of it. Then it communicates energy instead of messages."

Starscream straightened up to give Wheeljack a skeptical look, then shrugged and leaned back into the energy ansible. "I mean, hell, Megatron's gun has something like this in it; this isn't revolutionary tech. The only unusual thing about this thingy is that one half is in the real world and the other half is in infraspace. I still don't know how they accomplished that."

"It'd probably take, oh, a week or two to figure this thing out," Wheeljack said, trying to lean in around Starscream to examine the alien tech. "So I'll have it in a day."

"I love it when you do that."

Wheeljack's spark spun. "What?"

"What?" Starscream quickly straightened up and held the flashlight out to Wheeljack. "I should hope you can figure it out. That's why I hauled you back from the afterlife."

Wheeljack's spark was still a few RPM too high—he could feel it like static humming through his wires—but he took the flashlight and tried to act as much like nothing happened as Starscream clearly thought there had. "No surprises there," he mumbled, trying and failing to focus on the wires in front of him. And then he registered what Starscream said. "Wait, back from the afterlife?"

"Yes?"

"Not infraspace? The—the afterlife afterlife? Like, as in the Afterspark?"

"Yes?"

"Not—I wasn't here?"

"No? You don't remember me hauling you back?"

Wheeljack tried to think. Between Elonia and waking up with Starscream over him, it was all a murky black smear and an indistinct white light. "No. Why didn't I wake up here? You said anyone who'd interacted with the Talisman ended up here, right?"

"Interacted directly with it, while they were dying."

Wheeljack was staring at Starscream now. "You pulled me back from the afterlife?"

"Ah..." Starscream averted his gaze, staring at the same bunch of wires Wheeljack had unsuccessfully tried to focus on a moment ago. "Well, I needed the help of an actual proper engineer, but—obviously—needed a dead one, and you were dead but still only on the threshold of the Afterspark instead of actually in it, so..." They sounded like excuses instead of explanations. They sounded like that thing Starscream did where he justified his altruism by pointedly providing selfish motives.

"How did you get to the afterlife and back?"

"See that?" Starscream leaned back into the energy ansible and pointed up.

Wheeljack aimed the flashlight at a translucent, glasslike cylinder, with a plus and a minus recently scrawled onto each end of it. "Uh-huh?"

"I reversed the polarity."

"That's it?!"

"Yep."

Wheeljack grabbed the energy ansible's casing and laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight.

"You can see why I don't want the other Autobots to find out about this, right?"

Wheeljack thought he could see, but stayed quiet for a moment. He wanted to hear Starscream's explanation.

If you walked through infraspace long enough, you found that it curled upward, like a bowl. Keep walking, and you found yourself back where you started. The surface of infraspace was like the inside of a bubble, and the sky hung heavy and black in the middle. The engine that sucked life from the stars was a building-sized tumor of misshapen components embedded in the bubble, with a warped umbilical cord that stretched up from its roof into the sky. From their vantage point, sitting on top of the roof, they could see the cords of another four or five sites of Unicron parts stretching into the black.

Far away and left of New Prysmos, so far that the sky's cloudy darkness almost obscured it, was a tiny facility that would have been unnoticeable from this distance if not for the severed umbilical cord that lay in a loose coil around it. Starscream stared at it as he spoke.

"Right now, Optimus is content with his undead retirement," Starscream said. "But he's got an ugly little tendency to come back from retirement the instant people start to say his name with nostalgia instead of scorn. Whenever he does, he takes charge, does something crazy, makes things a million times worse, and then gets people pontificating and debating about the moral ramifications instead of stopping him like they know they should."

"I think you're a little biased," Wheeljack said, uncomfortably—uncomfortable because he could say that Starscream was biased but wasn't sure he could say he was wrong.

"Am I? What do you think about his little conquest of Earth?"

"Well—I mean—" He stammered for a moment, trying to put a couple years' worth of hopelessly tangled opinions in order. "It's—it's a complicated—it brings Earth into the international community, which can only be good for it, especially since they're already dealing with other alien threats like the Dire Wraiths—"

"You're pontificating," Starscream said, "on the moral ramifications.”

Which he was, and knew he was. He fell silent.

"And you didn't deny that it was a conquest."

Wheeljack could have argued that he'd thought the exact terminology being used was less important than the question being asked, but that would be dodging the truth and they both knew it. "I didn't," he said, defeated. "It was a conquest."

"And usually you Autobots are all about overthrowing conquerors, aren't you? But what did you—you, Wheeljack, what did you do when the conqueror was Optimus? What did all of you do, you collective Autobots and Prime-worshipers? It's wrong, it's unacceptable, it's worth fighting a war over—until he does it, huh?"

Wheeljack grumbled, but he supposed he couldn't really argue with that. Every time he thought about Cybertron taking over Earth, something inside him twisted and squirmed with guilt. And when a defeated voice in his head said there's nothing I could have done, an angry voice answered that doesn't mean you had to collaborate. 

He'd collaborated with Starscream, too. What was the difference?

Starscream stood, balancing on the edge of the roof, his pedes half hanging over the edge—was that a flier thing? Brainstorm did that too, and it made Wheeljack just as nervous—and planted his hands on his hips. "Smarter defectors than me have said that the day the Decepticons went off the rails was the day that the Cause became conflated with Megatron himself. Maybe the Autobots should've taken that as a cautionary tale."

All right, comparisons to Megatron were too far. Wheeljack elbowed Starscream's shin. "You were saying about not telling anybody about this."

Starscream kicked Wheeljack's thigh. "If the Autobots here know that there's a way out of infraspace, the next time there's an emergency, the first thing they're gonna do is bust down the door to Optimus's love shack and tell him he needs to go save the universe again. And then he's running wild again, with even fewer checks on him because now everyone loves him for martyring himself for the umpteenth time to stop Unicron.”

"Do they?" Wheeljack asked. "All love him, I mean? You've been out there."

"Of course they do. Nobody says anything bad about the guy who died saving the galaxy."

"What about you?"

It was the wrong question to ask. Starscream winced and mumbled, "Not saying anything counts as not saying anything bad, I guess." For Starscream, Wheeljack expected, even the worst sort of infamy would have been better than being forgotten.

Dryly, Wheeljack said, "Comes with membership in the unsung heroes club, right?"

Starscream laughed bitterly. "Anyway. You get it, right? Why I don't want them to know?"

Wheeljack considered what it would be like for Optimus to come back to life again.  Sure, he'd deal with the crisis of the day—he always did—but the decisions he made when the crisis was over, when they were at peace, when everyone (hell, including Wheeljack himself) did everything he asked no matter what they thought or how they felt about it... Cybertron didn't need any more de facto dictators, even benevolent ones; and no matter what Optimus or anyone else intended, that would be what he'd become if he went back. And he would go back, if for a second he thought he was needed and knew it was possible. And if he didn't think he was needed, the others—Kup, Blurr—might persuade him otherwise. "You're right. I won't tell."

Starscream smiled down at Wheeljack, and the fact that he was smiling made Wheeljack immediately second-guess his decision, even as his spark spun a little faster again. "I knew I could trust you."

And he said it like he meant it.

"I don't know how you managed to get this working the first time. All by yourself?"

"What, do you think I had help? Me? From who?"

Wheeljack was examining some components high on the side of the energy ansible, the part designed to actually store energy. "This thing is designed to only work one way. It takes energy in; it doesn't push it back out. But you were able to get it to go the other way?"

Wheeljack was balanced on top of a stack of tables—they couldn't find a ladder��and leaning inside the energy ansible. From here, he couldn't see Starscream, but he could hear him pacing around at the base of the machine. "Yeah. Can't you make it go the other way?"

"Well, yes—"

"Then great. No problem."

"But how did you do it?"

Starscream was silent a moment, just long enough that Wheeljack knew he had to be deciding whether to tell the truth or make up an answer. "Decepticon secret." Okay, that sounded like the truth.

"And do I get to learn the...?"

"Oh, not a chance. It's not going to work again, anyway. It's all on you now."

"It might help me figure it out faster if you—"

"Nope."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Wheeljack decided he could believe Starscream on that. "Anyway, it shouldn't be that difficult to make a new way to reverse the flow. It'll be hard, but pretty easy."

He heard Starscream stop pacing. "You wanna try that again?"

"Uh... Labor-intensive, but simple."

"Oh! Sure." The tables shifted slightly under Wheeljack's pedes as Starscream climbed up them. "So, already figured out what we need to do?"

"'We'? You're actually helping, not just supervising?"

"Sure! If there's room for me to. I'm not going to get in your way." Starscream's voice got steadily closer, until he was standing on the same table as Wheeljack, one forearm resting on the open casing of the energy ansible and the other resting on Wheeljack's shoulder. He was, Wheeljack noted, a lot more touchy-feely in death than he'd been in life. He wondered if it was because of the new body. Or maybe—Wheeljack had to wonder, darkly—maybe it was because nobody could hurt the dead.

In any case, he wasn't complaining. Touching was—nice, touching was fine. (He felt a little less oppressively neutral and a little more alive, where Starscream touched him.) He was just curious.

"But if I can help..."

"Definitely," Wheeljack said. "What kind of engineering experience do you have?"

"Maintenance skills. And soldering, welding, so on. I liked to get hands-on with our super weapons."

Wheeljack brightened. "Yeah? Me too." Of course, Wheeljack mainly got hands-on with the ones he'd designed himself, but it was still nice to hear. "How are you with chemistry?"

"Eh." He wiggled his hand in a so-so gesture. "I can make bombs out of bird crap."

Wheeljack was dying to ask when that had ever been relevant to Starscream's life. "Think you can identify some piezoelectric ignition sources in the wreck of New Prysmos?"

"Tell you what: I'll bring you anything I can find that sets fires, and you tell me if it's piezoelectric or..."

Wheeljack hadn't noticed that his own arm had been snaking around Starscream's back until the instant his fingertips brushed Starscream's waist and Starscream fell silent. It had felt like the right thing to do—why had it felt right?—because Starscream's arm was on Wheeljack, and—balance, and— But now Starscream was silent, his optics wide in shock, his wings raised, every piston and pulley in his body frozen.

"Sorry." Wheeljack pulled his hand back.

And the second he did, Starscream darted away from him. "Piezoelectric!" (For a moment, Wheeljack couldn't recall what Starscream was talking about.) "New Prysmos! Got it!" His voice was a shade shriller than usual, and definitely louder. He climbed down the tower of tables so fast that Wheeljack had to grab onto the open casing of the energy ansible for balance. (What happened, he wondered, if you got injured in infraspace?)

Right—right! Piezoelectric! "Hey!" Wheeljack leaned around the energy ansible. "If you don't find anything in a couple of hours, come back here. I'll probably have a list of other things for you to forage for by then."

Starscream stopped, perched on a windowsill high above the ground—Wheeljack supposed that was an easier exit for a flier than the door, huh—and turned back to look at Wheeljack. He had a wild, frightened, frantically happy look on his face. his smile shaky and wide and crooked.

"Chronometers don't work right in here," Starscream said, "but I'll guesstimate it the best I can." With that, he rolled backwards out of the window. Wheeljack heard him transform, and out the window he could see Starscream do barrel roll while heading toward New Prysmos. Like a five-day-old MTO, showing off that he was finally steady on his new wings.

Wheeljack watched until he was long gone. Then forced his attention back into the guts of the energy ansible.

His fingertips blazed where they'd touched Starscream's waist.

Wheeljack was wondering, for the dozenth time, just how Starscream had gotten this thing to work the first time, when he heard the sound of an approaching jet through the window. He stopped his work, wiped off on some kind of weird sleeveless robe he'd found in a closet and been using to clean grease off his hands, and carefully climbed down the tables just in time for Starscream to transform and land. "How goes the hunt?"

"You tell me." Starscream popped open his cockpit, and a pile of miscellaneous objects tumbled into his hands. "Everything I could find that starts fires, just like I promised."

Wheeljack peered over the objects. "Is—that a piece of charcoal?"

Starscream held his hands out so Wheeljack could better inspect it. "Looks like it."

"I said piezoelectric."

"Yes. You did. I'm not actually entirely sure what that means."

Wheeljack gave Starscream an exasperated look. Starscream shrugged. "The molecules flex when you electrify the object or something, right? I didn't exactly come in here with a taser and a microscope. Anything else look good?"

"Wel—" Wheeljack stopped. And stared at Starscream. "... Weren't you blue?"

"Oh!" Starscream was definitely not blue now. He was, in fact, quite red. "Yeah, thought I'd, uh—what do you think?" He smiled winningly.

What did he think? What did it matter what he— "What happened to blue? I thought that was your—you said it was your final form or something?"

"My true body," Starscream corrected. "And—yes, but—the paint job doesn't make a big difference, does it? It's still the same body. What do you think? An improvement?"

"Uh..." Wheeljack shrugged, baffled. "I don't—I don't know. I was still getting used to the blue." Starscream's smile faltered. "Where did you even— Who brought red paint in here? When did you have time to repaint? How long were you gone?" It didn't feel like that long. A proper repaint took, what, probably half a day? If you didn't want to get sloppy, and Starscream's was definitely not sloppy. It hadn't been half a day. Had it? Wheeljack hadn't been working half a day. Had he?

"Not however long you thought I was." Starscream dumped his findings on the table. "Anyway, does any of this work."

He'd brought back some flint, a couple of damaged lanterns that appeared to turn on by magic—a wonder that they still worked—a wood torch, and several small canisters of different types of fuel, including—"Where did you get this?" "Blurr had it with him, talked him out of it,"—a single, solitary can of engex. None of it what Wheeljack needed, but not bad to have around. Especially that can of engex.

"We'll split it," Starscream said, "when we finish upgrading this thing."

"We should give it back to Blurr," Wheeljack said.

Starscream shrugged. "Hey, if you don't want the only can of engex in infraspace, it's no paint off my back."

"I'll look for a piezoelectric ignition source," Wheeljack said. "And, in return, you get a scavenger hunt."

"Ooh, fun."

Wheeljack held out a datapad with a list of materials he needed to convert the energy ansible from one way to two. "And this time? Tell me if there's anything you don't recognize on the list before you go searching."

Starscream skimmed the list and flashed another smile. "I don't see the word 'piezoelectric,' I think we're good." He claimed the datapad and stowed it in his cockpit. "Are you gonna be in New Prysmos?"

"Probably. I might visit some of the other places with the, uh—" Wheeljack made an up-and-down gesture with one finger, pantomiming the strange tangle of cables stretching up into the sky.

"Oh, yeah. The vacuum hoses."

"What?"

"Kup's term for them. Just don't go to the one with a cut hose; I don't think Optimus and his new alien squeeze are taking visitors."

Wheeljack picked up and stowed the can of engex. "Are they actually...?"

"Hell, I don't know." Starscream was apparently content to use the door like a normal mech this time; he walked out with Wheeljack. "So. The vacuum hose station that's—we've been using New Prysmos as north—the one that's east by southeast of New Prysmos—"

"Hold on. If New Prysmos is the north pole, then isn't everything else south of it?"

"No, like— Okay, if you were flying straight toward the center of New Prysmos, from wherever you are, that direction becomes north."

"Okay."

"So if you were to turn—well, I guess you could just drive in reverse—that becomes south. And east and west are perpendicular to the north-south line, through the center of New Prysmos."

"Yeah. Okay. Got it."

"So. The one east by southeast of New Prysmos—that's the Autobot base."

"Oh, we've got a base?"

"There's an Autobrand on the door and they glare when I come over, so if it's not an Autobot base, it's doing a good impression of one."

They probably weren't glaring because of Starscream's former faction so much as because of who Starscream was as a person, but Wheeljack wasn't about to mention that. "Blurr's there?"

"Either that, or out seeing how fast he can circumnavigate infraspace. I try not to keep up with his latest records; it reminds me of how small our bubble is."

"Then I'll see you later."

Blurr hugged Wheeljack.

Kup hugged Wheeljack.

Even Quickswitch hugged Wheeljack, which was just a tad awkward, since Wheeljack didn't really think they were close enough for that.

Still, he'd hugged everyone back—with extra squeezes for those who'd been dead before him. 

"Didn't think we'd see you here!" Blurr was grinning from audial fin to audial fin, probably in part because Wheeljack was here and in part because Wheeljack had said that, as great as it was to see everyone, he'd mainly come to visit Blurr. He was quick to lead Wheeljack over to his section of the "Autobot base"—which was a half-built home inside a dark, decrepit silo. The weld lines were still visible on the walls where whatever equipment the silo originally held had been ripped off by the Autobots. Blurr's area was haloed with what had to have been half the lights in New Prysmos. "Starscream thought you might've got enough of a dose of the Talisman to end up here instead of dead. Kind of surprised he was right—not upset, though! For once. It's good to see you alive again. Ish."

So Starscream had lied. Surprise. Or Starscream had told the truth about what he believed, realized he was wrong, and went out to rectify his error?

"It's good to be alive again. Ish." And good to be around someone other than Starscream. Not that being around Starscream was bad, per se—and it really wasn't bad, he'd found over time, especially since the longer you were around him, the closer he got to shedding his masks and layers and acting like himself. But Wheeljack also found that, if he was around Starscream for too long, if he let himself synchronize too neatly with the way Starscream thought, the way Starscream spoke, sometimes he nearly forgot that there were other people out there. And that probably wasn't a good thing. Was it?

Blurr gestured for Wheeljack to take a seat on a crate, and sat on one across from him. "What took you so long to get here?" he asked. "You didn't get lost, did you?" He grinned. "New Prysmos isn't that big."

Wheeljack laughed. "No, no way." What else did he say about where he'd been? Telling Blurr he'd been dead-dead meant telling Blurr how he'd got un-dead, which meant explaining what Starscream was up to, and he'd promised he wouldn't. He'd agreed he shouldn't, even. But there was a difference between keeping it a secret and telling a lie about it. He'd never promised that. So what did he say? Blurr was looking at him expectantly.

"No, I was—I don't know where. Somewhere dark. Just... floating." Which wasn't dishonest. If he left it at that— "Maybe since I wasn't directly connected to the Talisman energy when I died, it took longer for it to tug me here."

Blurr shrugged. "Huh. Maybe. Who knows how that thing works."

There. He'd done it. And Starscream's secret was safe. Wheeljack waited for the guilt to come over him—the guilt like when he'd meekly followed along with Starscream's more dubious orders, the guilt when he'd said nothing in the face of Optimus's conquest—but it never came. What, was his guilt chip broken?

Or maybe he hadn't done the wrong thing.

"Oh—I came by to return this." Wheeljack took out the can of engex. "Don't know how Starscream got it off of you."

Blurr waved off the can. "Keep it. It's the only can of engex in infraspace. As long as I've got it, I'll be worrying about finding an opportunity to celebrate big enough to justify drinking it."

As Wheeljack stowed it away again, Blurr asked, "How'd you get it off Starscream?"

"Uh—" How did he answer that without admitting what he and Starscream were up to? "He—just gave it to me." Oh, stupid.

But Blurr laughed. "For you? I'm not surprised." And he gave Wheeljack a knowing look. Wheeljack wondered what it was he knew.

"You probably said something nice about his new paint."

Wheeljack looked up at Kup, who was now on top of a loft that had clearly been constructed recently, and— "Why are you standing on your head?"

"I'm meditatin'," Kup grunted. "Passes the time. It was a big help in the Dead Universe. Far as I can tell, only difference between there and here is the good company."

Wheeljack snorted. "You're flattering us," Blurr said.

Something about Kup's comment about Starscream's paint had sounded a little too wink-wink-nudge-nudge for Wheeljack's tastes, so instead of letting it lie, he replied, "Actually, I think what I said to him was that I'd only just been getting used to the blue. Where did he find red paint in here, anyway? I mean—I'm sure New Prysmos has paint somewhere, but not any that would look good on Cybertronians..."

"I'm sure he didn't use paint." Kup rolled down onto his back until he was sitting up, with only a couple of clanks and clunks—pretty graceful, for his age—and scooted around to face Wheeljack and Blurr again. "Probably did the same thing he did to get that new body of his—think it up into existence."

"What? Wait." Wheeljack looked between Kup and Blurr, optics wide. "You're saying he made that new body of his? I thought it— He called it his true form or something. I thought he... got it automatically when he died, or something."

They both shook their heads. Blurr said, "No, he showed up dead the same way he looked when he was alive, like the rest of us."

Kup said, "It took him—I don't know, time's funny here—maybe a week to work out how. He got the optics first, then started switching himself out piece by piece."

"So Starscream can shapeshift now." Wheeljack took a few seconds to absorb that. "Yeah. Okay. Sure, why not? Can we all do that?"

"Probably," Blurr said. "No one other than him has figured out how yet, though."

"Why do you think I'm over here meditating?" Kup stretched, and Wheeljack winced at all the pops, squeaks, and scrapes that emanated from his hips, back, and shoulders. "I'd sure like to shapeshift into something younger."

Wheeljack said, "Starscream always is pretty fast at figuring new things out."

"Yeah." Blurr's face screwed up in annoyance. As though Starscream's brilliance, his ability to think five steps ahead, his ability to combine ideas and schemes and politics and people—to make bombs out of bird crap—was one of his biggest flaws, rather than one of his saving graces.

And Wheeljack was reminded, jarringly, that when he was among Autobots, he was among people who didn't think Starscream had saving graces. Any virtues, any assets that Starscream had, to them, were just more things that made him dangerous to them.

It was like an invisible wall had come up between Wheeljack and the others. He didn't see Starscream like that anymore. How did he see Starscream?

He pressed the tips of the fingers that had brushed Starscream's waist into his palm.

Wheeljack found several sculptures and support structures in New Prysmos that he was pretty sure were made with piezoelectric crystals, but he didn't have the materials to easily turn them into ignition sources. He made note of them, in case he had to resort to them later, and kept searching.

Starscream was buzzing around the New Prysmos ruins, collecting his own list of materials. Wheeljack saw him from time to time in the sky, hovering in bot mode as he scanned the city for his next target, or flying back toward their worksite with a bundle of wires wrapped around his nosecone.

Just as Wheeljack was getting tired of breaking into far-too-small homes and guessing at where aliens might keep objects to start fires, he saw Starscream heading out toward the worksite again. Might as well take a break and see what kind of success Starscream had.

Wheeljack transformed and headed toward the site as well.

"You know, when one person has a twenty item scavenger hunt, and the other person has a one item scavenger hunt, usually you don't expect the guy with twenty items to pull in the lead."

"Oh, shut up. I gave you the easier list." Wheeljack was crouched on the floor, looking over Starscream's finds, which were piled up in a clear space: cords and cables and wires and struts and crystals and glass and tools and on and on. Wheeljack held up a tool that looked like some unholy cross between a wrench and a pair of pliers. "... Huh."

"Yeah, I know. I've been raiding the other Unicron sites for supplies. I'm guessing these are tools used on... which colony was he originally? Elonia, Arduria—no, Ant-something. Antonia? Why do all our colonies sound the same?"

"Unicron was a colony? As in—as in one of our colonies?"

"Oh, right, you weren't around for that. Surprise: we're our own worst enemy, again." Starscream crouched down around the pile of supplies, near Wheeljack—but, he noted, out of his arm's reach.

"You know, just once, I wish somebody else was our enemy." Wheeljack started reorganizing the scavenged supplies, arranging them so it'd be easier for him to quickly grab what he needed while he was working. "Just some whacko pack of invaders that we've never heard of and that’ve never heard of us, but that’ve decided they want a piece of our planet. I'm tired of every one of our enemies being 'each other,' 'the natural consequences of our terrible history,' or 'Shockwave again.'"

"If it helps, right now our enemy is the cold, uncaring concept of death itself."

"... Kinda does help. Thanks." Wheeljack sat back, looking over the rearranged supplies. "Do you believe in the Necrobot?"

Starscream scoffed. "As a supernatural entity? No. But I believe there's probably some weirdo out there that likes counting corpses. Do you?"

"Nah. Mythology."

Starscream appeared to consider that for a moment, then stood up. "I'm trading lists with you."

"What?"

"As reluctant as I am to admit to any of my very few flaws, I confess that I got the easy stuff first. The rest, I'd only trust a genius engineer to get right." Starscream half smiled. "Besides, we've both had a stab at the piezoelectric thingy now; it's my turn again."

"You sure? You don't have to." Didn't Starscream still not know exactly what a piezoelectric ignition source was?

"Sure. I found another place to search. It’s promising."

"In this little bubble?"

"I'm a miracle worker."

A miracle worker who was hiding something. But how much trouble could Starscream get into here, anyway? What was the worst he could do, kill someone? "All right, switch."

Starscream handed the datapad back to Wheeljack. Wheeljack was careful not to touch his hand. The items he'd already found were checked off. Yeah, he had found the easy things first. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Wheeljack didn't see plating nor paintchip of Starscream for... for a good while. (He missed time. He missed the need to refuel and the way it ordered the passage of events into cycles instead of a single interminable line.) He collected most of the materials he needed, hauling them one at a time back to their worksite; and as often as he looked to the sky, or along the far-off curves of infraspace's bubble, he didn't see Starscream flying around.

But on his third trip back, there Starscream was, leaning against the energy ansible with arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other, grinning triumphantly.

Wheeljack stopped in the door, two chemical-filled jars and a bundle of foil in his arms. "You found it?"

"I give you," Starscream said, "one piezoelectric ignition source."

He held up... Wheeljack couldn't even see it. He walked closer and squinted at Starscream's hand. It was an extremely tiny plastic brick, on the tip of one finger. "That's it?"

"It's called a lighter." Starscream said the word in human—Wheeljack wasn't sure what language just from one word, they all sounded so alike, but you could always tell when someone was speaking in human. "You push a little button, here," he tried to point with his other hand, which was basically useless, "and it squeezes something inside the lighter to make a spark and start a fire."

"It's tiny. I was hoping for something a little bigger than that."

"I got more." Starscream held his hand under his cockpit, opened it a crack, and hundreds of lighters spilled out.

Wheeljack dropped the foil bundle to the ground so he could hold one hand under Starscream's, catching any lighters that slid off. "Primus, Starscream, where'd you find all of these?"

"You know the humans that were trying to destroy Cybertron but dropped New Prysmos on us instead? I found some of their supplies on the edge of the city a while ago. I thought they might be useful, so I stowed them somewhere secret."

"And they brought this many lighters?"

"Probably to set off explosives. Or ignite those paper rolls that they like to stick in their mouths. Did you notice if any of our invaders used them?"

"No idea."

"Me neither."

Wheeljack carefully knelt so he could set down the jars of chemicals, and cupped both hands over the lighters. "They're so tiny."

"I'm sure we can find tweezers."

"You're sure they're piezoelectric? I'd have to take one apart before I was sure."

"Of course I'm sure," Starscream said. "I looked it up."

"Where?"

Starscream didn't say anything. Wheeljack glanced up at him. Starscream was looking back with a curiously blank expression that Wheeljack suspected was concealing blind panic.

It hit Wheeljack that nothing Starscream had told him about where he'd found the lighters was true. Wheeljack had just asked him for a part of the story he hadn't prepared yet.

He stood, looked at Starscream, and asked—no anger, no accusation, but very seriously—"Where did you get these lighters?"

Starscream looked back at him, and said, just as seriously, "In the supplies the humans left in New Prysmos."

And there they stood. Staring at each other. Hands full of hundreds of lighters.

Starscream looked away first, to very carefully drop his lighters in a pile on the bottom table of their table stack. "Let's split the rest of your list," he said. "It'll get done faster."

Wheeljack didn't say anything.

Starscream finally looked back at him. "Your list?"

"Starscream..."

"What." It was a what that didn't invite questions.

"Where did you get—"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," Wheeljack snapped. He dumped his lighters on top of Starscream's, and for a moment was too uncomfortably close to him. "Yes, it does matter, because it means you're—you're not just hiding things from me—you're lying to me! When I'm trying to help you!"

"Oh, wow. Starscream's lying." He shrugged, hands swung wide. "Are you surprised?"

"No!" Wheeljack was surprised at how Starscream flinched back at the word. "No, I'm not! But I am disappointed!" Starscream scoffed; it wasn't convincing. "Disappointed and, and—and furious! And why? What, does it matter where you got the lighters? Did you, I don't know, have to murder a tribe of infraspace-dwelling aliens to get them?"

"Of course not," Starscream said defensively.

"There's no 'of course' anything with you! I can't take anything for granted!" Starscream flinched again. "Starscream—Starscream, I'm helping you. I'm on your side. Why don't you treat me like an ally?"

Starscream glowered down at the pile of lighters, jaw set in an angry pout. Wheeljack waited anyway. Finally, Starscream said, "This is how I treat my allies."

And that was so true, and so depressing, that it immediately drained the anger out of Wheeljack. "I guess so." He looked down at the mysterious lighters, and idly scooped them together into a pile.

"So," Starscream said, tone cold and reserved. "Splitting the list."

"Why should I keep doing this?" Wheeljack asked. "If you're just going to lie all the way through it."

"Because if you don't have a project to work on, then you've got nothing to do with yourself other than hang out with the other Autobots, and the best project they can offer you is an opportunity to play interior decorator." Glib and snappy. They were back on questions that Starscream had prepared answers to. Starscream had expected that Wheeljack would want out—and that was even more depressing. "You'd rather be here. You want to be here, stretching the boundaries of science, digging around in Unicron's guts, turning alien machinery inside-out, punching a hole between limbo and life—even if it's with me."

"It doesn't have to be 'even if,'" Wheeljack said. "It could be 'plus.'"

Starscream flinched again, like that was another jab at him.

Wheeljack hadn't meant it as one. "Starscream..."

"Just give me the list," Starscream said. "And we'll get it done and you won't have to deal with me anymore. All right?"

Not wanting to deal with Starscream anymore wasn't anywhere on the list of feelings motivating Wheeljack right then. Not wanting to deal with Starscream like THIS, sure. But he didn't know how to elucidate the difference. He wasn't entirely, completely sure how he did want to deal with Starscream. Not in any way he was ready to put into words.

So he reluctantly held out the datapad. Starscream snatched it up, scrawled a star next to a couple of the items, and handed it back. "The other two are yours." And he breezed past Wheeljack, so quickly and so close that Wheeljack felt a chill where Starscream's wings stirred the still air. He was out the door before Wheeljack could say another word.

Wheeljack looked down at his list of remaining objects, and sighed.

There were a couple of turbines in the energy ansible, but Wheeljack needed to install another couple for his modifications to work. He'd put them off to near the bottom of his list, but fortunately, he had a very good idea where he could find more.

This was the only energy ansible Starscream had mentioned, but Wheeljack had been staring at its guts long enough to figure out that it wasn't pulling enough energy from the stars to keep Unicron moving. It just wasn't efficient enough. Energy ansibles rarely were. Even if Unicron had alternate sources of fuel, he'd need at least a couple of energy ansibles to keep him going.

Wheeljack started driving, cutting between New Prysmos and the tiny facility with the cut vacuum hose. And as he drove, a structure slowly appeared underneath the heavy black sky: a building that looked just like the one where he and Starscream were working. A second energy ansible, on the exact opposite side of infraspace from the one where Wheeljack and Starscream had been working.

There were his turbines. And, ideally, some answers about Starscream.

Wheeljack had no doubt that Starscream was telling the truth about having done something to the energy ansible that let him escape a few times before failing. If he hadn't done it once already, he wouldn't have been so sure that it was possible that he’d willingly spent what was probably his last trip hauling Wheeljack out of the afterlife to accomplish it; and if it hadn't broken down, he wouldn't have needed to haul Wheeljack out at all.

But by now, he also had no doubt that the energy ansible he'd looked over had never been modified by Cybertronian hands. The one Starscream had modified must have been somewhere else.

Wheeljack had been content to let Starscream keep his secrets as long as they had been only that—secrets. But now that they were lies, too, perhaps he'd better find out just what the hell Starscream was up to.

The building for the second energy ansible was laid out much the same as the first. Starscream had even taken the time to disable the same mechanisms. The windows were shuttered and only a few emergency lights worked, but beyond that, the only difference between this site and the other one—

—was Shockwave.

Wheeljack stopped dead. Shockwave was like a data ghost in a bad dream, surreal and translucent and multitudinous. Three versions of him lay over the same space, fading brighter and dimmer as Wheeljack stared: the senator, as resplendent as he had been in his heyday in turquoise and rose gold; the centaur Prime with the cruel gaze; and the shabby, worn-out purple scientist with the lost face and hand. Wheeljack couldn't move as all three forms turned to face him at once, their gazes overlapped.

Some distant part of Wheeljack was relieved to note that despite his appearance, at least Shockwave still had only one voice—dusty, droning, haughty, and supremely disinterested: "You aren't dead. Fascinating."

"You aren't solid," Wheeljack retorted. Shockwave glanced down at himself, as if to check Wheeljack's claim.

"Ah, yes. I've been having trouble consolidating my identity. Forgive me." Shockwave looked up again. "I'm not as good at this as Starscream. He always has been bafflingly quick on the uptake."

Wheeljack had been looking around for something to chuck at Shockwave's face—that was, Starscream had said, the locally accepted way to get him to go away—but at Starscream's name, he stopped. "You've been talking to Starscream?" For a moment, it all made sense: Starscream's insistence that Wheeljack not tell the Autobots anything, especially Optimus; the fact that he'd never mentioned the second energy ansible, the one which Shockwave was apparently haunting; the fact that Starscream had declared in no uncertain terms that he wasn't getting information from Shockwave but was reluctant to explain why— "You're working with Starscream!"

Shockwave made a noise so emphatically disgusted that it not only dispelled Wheeljack's theory completely, but also packed more emotion into a single sound than Wheeljack had heard out of Shockwave for the entire length of the war. "I would not work with him if the fate of the universe was at stake."

Sarcastically, Wheeljack snapped, "Saving it or destroying it?"

Shockwave tilted his head—heads—and gave the question serious consideration. "Either," he said thoughtfully. "Regardless, I am here to visit Orion."

Wheeljack was already mentally reproaching himself for assuming the worst of Starscream. What happened to being one of the only mechs to recognize his virtues? What made Wheeljack any kinder to Starscream than Blurr or Kup if he jumped on the first opportunity to think the worst of Starscream?

"Has he been claiming to be working with me?" Shockwave asked.

"No," Wheeljack said. "The opposite, actually."

Shockwave nodded slowly. "And so you doubted him. Intelligent."

Yeah. Pfeh.

He went on: "But no. If you're looking for one of Starscream's accomplices in the real world, you should be looking to Bumblebee, not me. I'm given to understand he's been visiting him regularly."

That, actually, rang true. Bumblebee had mentioned, in passing, having been able to speak to Starscream from Crystal City; it’d make sense if Starscream sought him out...

But hold on. "'Regularly'? What do you mean, regularly? How regularly?"

"I'm in prison," Shockwave said. "How would I know?"

He knew a lot for someone who wasn't supposed to know anything. "But—not lately, right? Not since whatever he used to get the energy ansible to transport him broke down?"

"You're calling it an 'energy ansible'? Really?"

"Just—answer the question!"

Shockwave gave Wheeljack a long, considering look. "Did he tell you he's been using it to transport himself?"

Wheeljack felt his fuel tank drop. "What—what has he been using?"

"Nothing," Shockwave said. "He simply flies through the Unicron black hole and out. He has the thus far entirely unique talent of being able to effortlessly drag his spark into and out of infraspace and black holes—no need for equipment, assistance, or the tedious practice I put in to learn a shallow facsimile of his ability. I almost wonder if it isn't a previously latent outlier ability that never had an opportunity to express itself."

Wheeljack stared at Shockwave, stunned silent. Shockwave took the opportunity to give Wheeljack a pointed once over. "And now he can even will his spark to the afterlife and back? Oh, that is fascinating."

Wheeljack slammed open the door so hard that Starscream jumped. Good, he was here. (He was blue again.)

"You can leave."

Starscream looked startled at the declaration; then resigned. "Oh. I thought—you might need help putting everything together, but—"

"No!" Wheeljack pointed out the window, toward the sky. "You can leave infraspace! All this time, you could leave!"

"Whaaat?" Starscream said, completely unconvincingly. "Why would you think—?"

"Shockwave."

"Oh, scrap."

"All this—" Wheeljack gestured at the energy ansible, "it isn't to get you out of infraspace. It never was. So what is it for?"

Starscream scowled.

"Starscream."

He kept scowling. He didn't say anything.

"Dammit, Starscream, just—" Wheeljack swept a hand at all the supplies they'd collected. "You've had me working on this for I-don't-know-how-long—"

"Three weeks."

"—you could at least tell m— Three weeks?!" He'd thought it was a couple of days. "You can tell time, too?!"

"No." Starscream's arms were crossed tight, and he was glowering down at his feet. "But I can check when I go out."

"Ah!" He was admitting that he could do it. Progress. "So why? What do you need the energy ansible for?"

Starscream hissed, "What does it matter?" Like his words were snake venom and he was trying to sink them in as deeply as he could. "You're not going to work on it anymore. Why would you? I've misled you. I've lied to you. Make up your own story. I'm sure you can imagine plenty of sufficiently awful things." He stormed past Wheeljack to the door.

"Don't." Wheeljack caught Starscream's arm as he passed. Starscream froze up, tensed like he wanted to push Wheeljack away, but for a moment, didn't. Wheeljack was hypercognizant of the texture of Starscream's paint under his hand. "Yeah, you're right; I can imagine plenty of awful things. And you go out of your way to make them easy to imagine. But I've known you long enough to know that, no matter what it is you're up to, it's not half as bad as you want to make everyone believe it is. You've never been as big a villain as you try to look like."

Starscream stared at Wheeljack. His expression was some desperate mix of fury and bafflement and hope, and Wheeljack had no idea what to make of it, so he forged on: "I don't wanna assume the worst about you, Starscream. The worst is never true. So just... tell me why you needed the—"

Some pressure valve burst; Starscream exploded. "It's you! Okay?! You're the one I did this for! I'm trying to get you out!"

Wheeljack's words stuck in his throat.

Starscream shoved Wheeljack off. (Wheeljack registered, vaguely, that sometime while he'd been holding Starscream's arm, Starscream's body had changed completely, to the one Starscream had been wearing when Wheeljack had woken from his coma to be told Starscream was the new leader of Cybertron.) "The goal is to get you out—out of infraspace, back into the real world. I clawed my way into the Afterspark to save you. All right? Not to get an engineer—I don't need a damn engineer, I can go wherever I want—but to get you! And to get you to work on the energy ansible, because I don't know enough to do it, but I do know enough to know that this," he pointed, "this is your best chance of getting home!"

All that, to help Wheeljack? Wheeljack had known whatever Starscream had been up to couldn't have been as bad as his automatic suspicions (his 60% Autobot suspicions) had wanted to say they were, but to help him? Starscream started pacing; Wheeljack sank down on a chair that was just a little too short for the average Cybertronian.

"The other Autobots already tried to get out," Starscream said. "They can't. We all know that the sky is the way out—it's just an inside-out black hole. The Autobots tried climbing the vacuum hoses to get up to it, they tried sending up Quickswitch in jet mode—nothing. The closer you get to the sky, the heavier gravity gets. I'm the only one it doesn't affect, and I don't know why. It does affect my passengers—I tried flying Blurr up and couldn't carry his weight. If you want to make it out, it's the energy ansible or nothing!"

"Why?"

Starscream threw his hands up. "I don't know why! I haven't studied black holes! Go ask Shockwave, if you two are such good friends now—"

"No, not that," Wheeljack said. "It's obvious to anyone who has a passing familiarity with quantum engineering in curved spacetime that an energy ansible is the only way to get supercompressed matter out of a black hole."

"Oh," Starscream said uncertainly, "right, obviously."

"I mean why are you going to all this trouble to get me out?"

Starscream stopped pacing. That was, evidently, another question for which he hadn't prepared an answer. "Because I—" He cut off sharply. "Because you... deserve so much more than to be just another dead unsung hero."

Starscream meant it. Everything about him screamed that he meant it; the way his voice went quiet and shy, the way he shifted his weight uncomfortably during the admission, they way he couldn't even look at Wheeljack even though his optics were so bright.

However, it wasn't what Starscream said that made Wheeljack's spark spin faster. It was what he'd stopped saying.

Infraspace was so quiet when neither one of them was talking. No wind outside, no distant sounds of vehicles and pedestrians, nothing mechanical shifting inside the building—not even electricity humming through the probably-magic lights. It was so quiet Wheeljack could hear the fans working in Starscream's body, the hiss of the combustion chambers in his thrusters nervously turning on and off.

Quietly, Wheeljack asked, "Why didn't you just say you wanted—" he meant to say to help me, he should have said to help me, but instead he said, "me?"

And they both winced, because you couldn't bandy about that sort of honesty with Starscream. Throwing too much honesty at him at once was like flashing your headlights in a nocturnal creature's optics.

Starscream laughed a nervous, rattly laugh, and that was when Wheeljack knew that he was going to get an honest answer back. "It doesn't work like that for me," he said, with a sardonic smile. "The only way I ever get what I want is lying."

"I'm gonna sock everyone who made you believe that," Wheeljack said hotly. He sat back in his chair and spread his hands wide. "If you wanted me, you only had to ask!"

There was a long moment of silence, while they were both equally shocked by the words that had just come out of Wheeljack.

And a second long moment while they figured out which one of them was going to mildly freak out over it first.

Wheeljack figured that if he was the one who freaked out, Starscream would think he hadn't meant it—and he had meant it; he just hadn't known he was going to mean it until after he'd said it. So it couldn't be him. Instead, he raised his outstretched hands an inch higher, and said, firmly, "Yeah!"

And Starscream shrieked, "You what? Since when?!"

"I—have no idea at all!" The outstretched hands became a shrug. "You give off these—really intense off-the-market vibes, so I sort of... you know..."

Starscream gaped at Wheeljack. And then started laughing. He clapped a hand over his mouth, laughing so hard that he had to lean against the energy ansible. He slowly slid to the floor, and Wheeljack stood up, not quite sure if he should be helping Starscream back up, watching him fall, or joining him.

Joining him, he decided. Wheeljack sat down next to Starscream, and tentatively leaned their shoulders together. Starscream stiffened; then relaxed with an obvious conscious effort, his wings and plating shifting minutely. He'd stopped laughing, but his hand hadn't uncovered his mouth yet. Behind it, Wheeljack could glimpse a bit of the same frightened, frantic smile he'd seen when Wheeljack had touched Starscream's waist and Starscream had escaped out a window.

"Hey," Wheeljack said. He wanted to follow up with something reassuring, but wasn't sure what. But Starscream was looking at him, now. So after a moment too long of silence, he asked, "What happened to your other body?" He pointed at the far more angular frame that had replaced it. "You were wearing the other one when I came in."

"Oh. Yeah, that's—something else I can do now." Starscream lowered his hand and shrugged—it felt like static danced between their shoulders. "It's probably all connected, somehow."

"No, I know that you can do it; the Autobots told me," Wheeljack said. "Why'd you switch, though?"

"Oh. Yeah." Starscream glanced down at himself. "You like it?"

It was dawning on Wheeljack that Starscream had asked for his opinion every single time Starscream switched up his frame since Wheeljack had woken up here. "I—sure. It's fine."

"You said it wasn't bad," Starscream said, "the first time you saw me in it. So." He shrugged. "You know."

It was dawning on Wheeljack that Starscream had been asking what he thought for a lot longer than he realized. "It's not bad," he said, "but you called that other one your 'true body,' right?"

"Oh. Yeah." Starscream looked at the floor. "Yeah. So I'm told."

They were silent for a moment. Wheeljack wasn't sure what else to say. This was nowhere near where he'd expected his day (week? afterlife?) to go. Should they be talking relationships, now? Dates? Dealbreakers? Hammer out cross-faction courting expectations? Was Wheeljack going to have to duel Megatron for permission to conjugate Starscream? Was it too early to think about—

"I thought," Starscream said, "if I could get my true body, I'd feel... better. Like a better person. Like the person I'm supposed to be. Instead, I just feel more like me than ever." He grimaced, like that was some grotesquely unfair punishment.

"Well," Wheeljack said carefully, "who else are you supposed to feel like?"

Starscream snorted.

"I'm not kidding. You can—you know—be someone worth being without becoming somebody else." Wheeljack was more accustomed to saving the worth-affirming speeches for the engineers and inventors under him that liked to bounce between boisterous arrogance and crippling performance anxiety—Brainstorm came to mind—but he got the impression these were things that no one else had ever bothered to say to Starscream. "You're someone worth being."

"What makes you so sure? You're only getting the outside view. You aren't me."

"No. But I do know you're someone worth knowing. Which is close enough."

Wheeljack didn't know if Starscream bought that answer, but he did stop talking. Stunned silent or considering it?

He felt Starscream readjust against his shoulder, and glanced over. Starscream's body had shifted again, back to curvy and blue. He was resting his head against the energy ansible, a dark, thoughtful look on his face, as he gazed at the window. Wheeljack leaned his head on the energy ansible as well, wondered if that look was a good thing, and wondered if he'd said the right thing.

Starscream's fingertips were warm as they hesitantly brushed over the back of Wheeljack's knuckles, waiting for an invitation to go farther. Wheeljack laced their hands together.

Wheeljack's spark whirled so fast it felt like a spinning top, dancing in circles around the room.

Removing the turbines from the other energy ansible, it turned out, was a two person job. They were so deep in the machinery, Wheeljack griped, that he couldn't lean into the casing that far without losing his balance and falling in. Maybe he could open up the casing from the other side and try to remove them that way—

—or Starscream could serve as a counterbalance, Starscream suggested.

After a bit of interrogation, Wheeljack figured out what he meant by that: Starscream would put his hands on Wheeljack's waist and lean back, so that Wheeljack could lean forward and his center of balance would still stay far enough back that he wouldn't fall into the energy ansible. Which sounded to Wheeljack a whole lot like Starscream's way of seeing whether or not he could get away with getting his hands on Wheeljack yet.

"We did this all the time in the Decepticons," Starscream insisted, all wide optics and faux innocence. "We're all quite accomplished at jury-rigged mechanics, you know."

"Uh-huh. Because that's what the Decepticons are known for, isn't it? Getting their hands all over each other in the name of teamwork and cooperation."

Beneath the faux innocence, something mischievous glinted in Starscream's optics. "Well. It certainly helps if you find a partner you like."

And so they extracted the turbines like that: Wheeljack leaning into the energy ansible, Starscream holding tight to his waist, their hips inching way too close to each other to not be distracting, and Wheeljack pretending he didn't know Starscream was wearing that grin he wore whenever he knew he was getting away with something wicked.

"And the best part is," Starscream said cheerily, "I'll bet you anything Shockwave won't be able to get back into infraspace once this energy ansible doesn't work anymore."

"What's it matter? We're not going to be here much longer either."

"I know. But I like knowing he doesn't have nice things."

"So," Starscream said, breaking the silence. He and Wheeljack had been studiously soldering new wiring into the energy ansible for... however long, now. "Bumblebee tells me that, when Autobots are courting, generally the one kicking things off does so by giving the object of his, erm, affections," (he mumbled the word, like he wasn't entirely confident in saying it yet) "a sonnet he wrote, and a really cool rock. Like—an impressive geode, or a lab sapphire grown in an interesting shape. He's messing with me, right?"

"Oh, yeah, completely." Wheeljack used up the last of his roll of solder, tossed it over his shoulder, and walked over to their supplies to grab another. "Need more solder?"

"I'm good."

"However," Wheeljack said, "if you wanted to give me a really cool rock, I'd definitely be thrilled."

"Oh yeah? Would it win me points?"

"Oh, beaucoup points." He sat back down and continued soldering. "You talked to Bumblebee? When?"

"Made a trip while you were collecting all that sheet metal. I don't know why I bothered to update him. All I got was razzing and completely fake advice."

"I dunno... that rock idea..."

Starscream huffed, and they lapsed into silence again as they worked.

"... Is that what we're doing now?" Wheeljack asked. "Courting? Officially, I mean?"

"I... I don't know." Starscream paused, then added, in a mumble, "I've never really done this before. A couple times, kinda, but they don't really count. I was planning to use and backstab them."

"Same," Wheeljack admitted, "except for the using-and-backstabbing part."

"I don't get..." Starscream shook his head. "I know that I'm a pile of red flags stitched in the shape of a jet. I don't know why you'd want to court me. Or be courted by me. I don't know if that's a unilateral or bilateral thing."

Wheeljack shrugged. "If you were planning to betray me, you wouldn't have told me you'd betrayed the last couple 'bots you courted, right?"

"I told the second one about the first one."

"I'll take my chances."

The smile Starscream graced Wheeljack with could have illuminated every hall of a Metrotitan. "Courting, then."

He wondered what in the world Starscream had told Bumblebee, if he hadn't told him that they were already courting.

He wondered what it was like, traveling back from infraspace to the real world. Was it like traveling through a wormhole? A space bridge? Could Starscream feel the black hole—what was that like?

Wheeljack figured he'd be finding out soon enough.

"Energy stable?"

Starscream checked the alien console, referring back to the notes they'd attached above it explaining what the readouts meant. "Check."

"Ignition ready?"

Starscream looked at the massive block of dissected-and-recombined lighters bound into their patchwork machine with electrical tape. "Check, I hope." Starscream glanced at Wheeljack. "Patient prepped?"

Wheeljack looked down at the dozens of wires dangling from his open spark casing. "Check. I hope."

Starscream stepped back from the energy ansible and stood next to Wheeljack, and together they looked over their work. It was an absolute mess.

"Are we ready?" Starscream asked.

Wheeljack surveyed the mess critically. Everything appeared to be connected, and nothing was throwing off sparks, so... "If I commed up the break room in Kimia and asked whoever was there if they thought it was ready, three out of five of them would say yes."

"And that means...?"

"We go for it."

Starscream gave Wheeljack an alarmed look. "Is that how Autobots usually do science? Field testing is decided by three out of five 'bots on their break?"

"It's the polar opposite of the Shockwave method. I see that as a plus," Wheeljack said. "Besides, what's the worst thing a malfunctioning energy ansible could do? Kill me?"

Starscream went over to the energy ansible's controls, but muttered, "In this place? I wouldn't rule out the possibility."

”It’s as ready as it’s gonna be,” Wheeljack said. “Which means…” He rummaged around under his armor.

”What? Means what?” Starscream’s optics lit up in surprise when he saw Wheeljack extract the can of engex, and he laughed. “I thought you gave it back.”

”Blurr didn’t want it. C’mon. Split?”

”You first. I’m prepping the energy ansible.” It slowly started to hum to life as Starscream powered it up.

Wheeljack popped open the can, slid his mask half off, and chugged down half the can—trying to ignore how keenly Starscream watched his rarely-exposed face as he drank. When he was done, he clicked his mask back in place and held the rest out to Starscream.

Starscream’s fingers brushed Wheeljack’s as he took the can, and Wheeljack found his gaze caught by Starscream’s. Starscream’s new optics were the color of a deep pool of energon, and just as full of life and energy just waiting to be unleashed. They were the most alive thing in infraspace.

Starscream pressed his lips where Wheeljack’s had been and drained the can, and smirked when Wheeljack tried to cover up a spontaneous engine rev by clearing his throat. Later—he could follow up on that later. When they were out of here.

"Come on! Just turn it on." Wheeljack gave Starscream an encouraging grin, optics curving. "I'll see you on the other side."

Starscream rolled his optics, but he was still smirking. "No dying this time," he commanded. "I'll see you around Mars." Starscream flipped the energy ansible on.

"Hold on. Mars?"

And then it powered on. It felt like a vacuum sucking his spark out of its casing, and all the electricity in his frame out with his spark. The engex he’d just drank vaporized. His vision swam and darkened. The tips of his fingers were just going numb when he was ripped free from his frame and hurdled away into nothingness.

Wheeljack wondered how many people in the galaxy had gotten to see the view from the inside of a black hole coming out. It was like a billion points of light flying straight through him, like rain whipped by the wind, as he flew the wrong way through the event horizon.

And then he was free, spinning through space, stars whirling around him, a sun flashing in and out of his view, and he was struck by the dizzying wondrous sense of space—of open space, of existence and energy and connection and life.

And then he was falling, slowly, back toward the event horizon.

Starscream caught his hand. "You made it!"

Slowly he stopped falling and stopped spinning. Starscream held him up, weightless, in defiance of the black hole's gravity, and beamed at him. Literally beamed at him. The sun was beaming through his face. "You're see-through?"

"We're see-through," Starscream said. "We're incorporeal, at the moment."

"Uh." Wheeljack looked down at his body, and saw the lights of the event horizon spinning through his chest. "I see that."

"Temporary problem," Starscream said dismissively. "I'm in contact with Bumblebee—he's the only one I can talk to directly, without possessing a TV or anything—"

"You can possess a TV?"

Starscream seized Wheeljack's other hand, squeezed them both, and gushed, "It's amazing. I've got to show you how to travel through the Internet; there's so many things we can do like this—anyway. Bumblebee can get us to Windblade—they're friends now, we can beg a favor off of her—she can get us to Nautica, and Nautica can get us to Brainstorm."

"Uh-huh." Okay. That was a whole lot of travel for someone who'd been dead four minutes ago—was time passing again?—but Starscream had clearly thought this out. "And, Brainstorm will give us...?"

"His expertise on mechs that are dead but still alive—which I think is as close as we're going to get to expertise on whatever we currently are—and hopefully, eventually, new bodies."

"Really? We're trusting Brainstorm to make our bodies?" Wheeljack asked. "You know there's an apocalyptic events scale named after him, right?"

"What's the worst thing he could do? Kill us?" Starscream winked.

Wheeljack laughed. "If anyone could find a way..."

"Then it's a good thing I have an expert engineer with me to check my future body for explosives." Starscream squeezed Wheeljack's hands again. "Ready to go?"

Wheeljack squeezed back. "Ready."

Without needing his thrusters, propelled by his own energy and will, Starscream flew away from the black hole and pulled Wheeljack along with him; two sparks shot through the sky toward Earth.

Also on Ao3, see link on my blog!

[imababblekat]

Imagine Giving Starscream A Hug

(A/N: A bit longer then I intended but oh well  v(￣∇￣)  ) 

~

Starscream had perched himself at the edge of the cave to both of your secret refuge. It was a straight drop to the bottom, dense trees surrounding the area and impossible of breach without the use of flight. The con sat, helm faced down and metal fingers twiddling with each other. Another day, and another failed attempt at becoming the Lord of Decepticons. It seemed as though Starscream tried 24/7 to bring Megatron to the ground and have others kneeling before him, and while he pushed on with determination, some days he just wondered what was even the point.

At times he felt like all of this was wasted effort and he was getting no where except closer to death with every sliver of escape from Megatron getting slimmer and slimmer. If he kept this up, would he be sitting where he is now the next day, or would his spark be burning in the dreaded Scrapheap? He didn’t know, he never did, and today had been one of those few moments where he felt dull and insecure. Would he even make a great leader? He’d always boast with pride of being one, but there was no doubt of the tiny dread at the back of his processor that maybe, just maybe, he would not be one.

Starscream clenched his sharp cervo’s, optic ridge turning down and a headache forming at the depressive thoughts of whether or not he should go on. While he continued to drown in self depreciating thoughts, the sound of jet engines from above filled his audio sensors. He heaved an irritated sigh with the noise of transforming from behind; great, this is exactly what he needed right now.

“Yo, Screamer! Look what I got!”, you skipped up to the edge of the cliff behind him.

You reached into your chest compartment and pulled out two tiny, colorful cans.

“I stole a bunch of these from one of those...those, uh...what are they called? Birthday parties? Well anyway, I snagged a bunch from those mini flesh bags!! They call it silly string!”

Normally the mischief combined with the excitement of your tone would have Starscream on board for whatever scheme you had planned, but right now he was really considering pushing you off the cliff from where you stood. When your partner hadn’t cackled to help you plot out a devious plane, you raised an optic ridge and peered at his face. From the deep scowl and faded optics, you knew something was up, the biggest hint being a new dent in his wing. A tiny frown had appeared on your own face, and you sat down beside him with concern.

“Hey Screamer what’s-“

“Stop calling me that you imbecilic!”, Starscream burst, jumping up to glare down at your sharply.

At the rude name and sudden attitude, you narrowed your eyes to glare back at him.

“Excuse me-“

“It’s Lord Starscream to you, (y,n)! Or do I have to-“

Before Starscream could continue his tangent, his vision had suddenly been obscured by a sticky substance. He sputtered, wiping frantically at it, and when he could see again Starscream saw pink colored webbing covering his cervo’s. The con went to scream at you once more, but at the sound of his high pitched voice you sprayed him again. This went on a few more times, before Starscream looked like he was covered in streamers and you had about three cans laying on the ground.

Starscream glowered at you, mouth shut tight as you simply stared with another can in hand. As his mouth started to open once more, you quickly raised the brightly colored weapon, and he just as quickly shut his mouth. You waited a few seconds before moving on.

“You done?”

Starscream still had a scowl on his decorated face plate, but nodded nonetheless.

“Alright then. So tell me what the heck all that was about.”

The Decepticon heaved another sigh, and proceed to sit back down beside you.

“It’s just...I guess I’m starting to lose hope in ever taking down that blasted Megatron. Every single day, just when I’m seconds to victory, I get blasted by his canon and mocked! It’s humiliating! I swear sometimes he purposely makes it seem like I’m about to win, just so it’s all the more painful when I go tumbling to the ground! I just-I want to know that I’m ahead of him for once! Even if it’s just by a pede, to have an advantage on him would mean everything!”

You observed as Starscream’s face had gone from furry to doubt as he finished the first of his explanation.

“I...I also am not sure if I’d even make a great leader. I know; unbelievable to hear coming from someone as great as me right? But, it’s not impossible to happen. How could I be the leader of Decepticons when easily toyed with by Megatron? You were there when it was just us, that insane triple changer Blitzwing, and bucket of bolts Lugnut. While Blitzwing was more willing, he was still hesitant to follow my orders. As for Lugnut, that guy only did anything in the interest of getting his lord back. It was difficult commanding just those two, but I can’t even get you to grab me some oil from five feet away! If I can’t control you, how am I supposed to control an entire faction?!”

You tapped your fingers along the edge of the cliff, looking out at the sky with processing thoughts. You remember the first time you met Starscream. He was babbling to himself about his next plan to take down Megatron when you came up behind him and spooked him. At first, he threatened you in to not telling anyone, but then he pleaded once seeing the rather calm demeanor on your face in comparison to his first reaction. You never did tell anyone, but instead spent your time pestering and bothering your fellow jet. It took a while, but eventually you two had become friends, as much as he said otherwise, and could often be found with the other causing some sort of mischief.

So from the long time spent with your friend, you knew of his long life goal to become the Leader of Decepticons. Hell, it was all he ever talked about. It was very understandable to you on why he would feel at loss at this point. He worked so hard to rule, and you remember clear as day that short period of time in which he was the Decepticon Leader; from the lightness in his mood to the increase of rare, but genuine expressions of non menacing happiness.

“Hey...”

Starscream glanced over, just as you pulled him in for a hug. You could feel his chasis greatly stiffen, but he didn’t shove you off or fight back in any other way.

“I believe in you Starscream. You’re smart; resilient. You’ll figure out a way to take Megatron down. You’ve brought him close before, I know you can do it again. And I’ll be there with you to make sure it’s permanently done. Then, you’ll finally be able to become the Leader of Decepticons, just as you’ve so feverishly shared with me.”

Starscream felt you pull back, and lightly blushed at the friendly smile on your face plate.

“And don’t worry about whether or not you’ll be a great leader. No one’s ever been able to control me, not even Megatron. You’ll be a great, fierce ruler. I just know it!”

Starscream’s optics flickered over your being, looking for just the slightest, tiniest tip off that you were lying to him. However, like always, he found nothing. No one has ever been so kind to him like you, even when he tricked and tried to push you away and done so many things that should have you wanting to rip his spark out like the rest. At first he hated it, then he was scared by it. It was such an unnatural thing to him; kindness. Yet, you proved that to him and over time it payed off, and the two of you were practically inseparable. You gave him hope, helped to keep pushing forward, and he couldn’t be more thankful for your friendship, even if he’d rejected outwardly admitting that to you.

“So!”, you grinned widely at seeing the glint in your evil partners optics once more.

“Want to go torment the Autobots? I’ve got about fifty more cans of this stuff and know exactly where to get more in case we run out~”, you smirked with wiggling optic ridges while shaking a can of silly string.

A mischievous smirk had found its place, and Starscream let out his infamous cackle before snatching a few of the cans from your open cervo.

“Who would I be if I turned down such a lovely offer?!”

With that, the both of you simultaneously transformed, and blasted off to reak havoc on the poor city of organics like the best of pals you two were.

~xXx~

[roseymoseyberry]

Samsara (4/?)

I’m gonna be v busy for the next few days so I’m posting a little earlier than I had planned to.

ALSO!!! It’s less relevant here than on ao3 but uhhhh while writing this chapter I accidentally wrote an interfacing scene. Oops. It was a surprise to me but here we are. So just know that if you weren’t expecting that to pop up in this fic, well. It’s here. But it’s p vaguely described with a much stronger focus on the emotions involved.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! Though this chapter is a rollercoaster of emotions haha.

Title: Samsara

Series: RID15 and TFP (and some tidbits grabbed from Aligned wiki pages)

Ship(s): Wildbreak/Knockout, Breakdown/Knockout

Tags/warnings: Reincarnation AU, hurt/comfort, verbal/physical abuse (though the worst of the physical abuse is barely described or off screen), past character death, age difference (but still consenting adult alien robots), a lot of filling in worldbuilding gaps and making shit up, and a lot of Wildbreak being a sweet boy who just needs some love and affection. NEW TAGS/WARNINGS: Very vaguely described sticky interfacing

Fic Summary:

From the day he was forged, Wildbreak had felt like there was something missing; some motivation or drive or desire that had been left behind in the Allspark.

Something he should know but didn’t.

|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|

Wildbreak wasn’t really sure what he expected at the end of the journey.

It was dark out, and made all the darker as they stood under the heavy boughs of the forest, but their combined headlights made it easy enough to make their way through the foliage. It took nearly an hour of stomping around before Knockout slowed and Wildbreak asked, “Why’re we stopping?”

Knockout gestured in front of him.

“We’re here.”

It was just a small grassy clearing. Large enough to allow a couple cybertronians at most to walk around, but still small enough that there was only the slightest spacing between leaves that allowed moonlight to fall on the center of the space. Truthfully, it looked like any other clearing in any other forest. Wildbreak wouldn’t have been able to differentiate it from anywhere else in the woods they had trekked through.

However, his spark fluttered sickly.

“At least, this is most likely the place,” Knockout continued as he took slow steps out into the clearing. “Dreadwing was polite enough to give me the coordinates, and while Breakdown’s frame was already long gone by the time I came to check, there had been enough evidence to suggest this is where it happened.”

Wildbreak stayed on the periphery, his joints locking up with an odd dread.

It was shockingly easy to imagine the spilled energon across the ground that Knockout now stood on.

“Autobots?” Wildbreak asked as carefully as he could.

Knockout’s back was to him.

“Decepticon,” Knockout corrected, his tone almost indifferent sounding. “Instead of simply doing the job himself, Megatron sent Dreadwing and Breakdown to offline her, coming up with some fake cover story. She realized, of course. Not everyone is as oblivious as that egomaniac.”

Wildbreak felt his spark twist. It occurred to him that he could ask about it, about who ‘she’ was, all the circumstances that led up to it, but the very idea only made him feel more ill. Wildbreak desperately didn’t want to know.

He didn’t want to have this horrid tale sound familiar.

“I’m sorry.”

Knockout didn’t respond right away. Instead he gracefully knelt to the ground, his digits gentle as they brushed along the fragile grass of the forest floor. A moment went by, and then another.

Wildbreak was about to ask if Knockout wanted some time alone, to have his space while he mourned Breakdown, when finally Knockout spoke.

“It’s my fault, you know.”

“What?” Wildbreak blurted, his ridges furrowing with confusion. “But you weren’t even here, right?”

“No, but I’m the reason he was here in the first place,” Knockout insisted. The cold detachment of his voice was starting to get to Wildbreak. His vents huffed. “But you don’t want to hear about that. Just go back to the road and I’ll find you in the morning.”

Wildbreak’s spark quickened its pulsing as he took one step into the clearing.

“Do you want to be alone?” Knockout didn’t respond to that, so after a moment Wildbreak gathered his courage and said, “Th-then I’ll stay. And you can talk, if you want to. Or not. I don’t mind either way.”

A small bunch of grass was plucked, ripped away from the ground strand by strand.

“It’s not a happy story.”

Wildbreak’s chest grew tight with knowledge his spark couldn’t share with him.

“I kinda figured that much out.”

After a long moment, Knockout dropped the grass in a pile.

“I had done so well to keep him from becoming cannon fodder. Once I had him as my assistant, I could keep him from the worst battlefields and out of the general command line of unfeeling generals. Sure, it became harder once we arrived here and had high command ordering us around directly, but I was so sure we could make it. The war had to be almost over. I saw the finish line and ignored all the signs.”

“Signs?”

“Megatron didn’t care about Breakdown,” Knockout stated, and while his tone was still cold, there was a fury beneath it making itself known.

Wildbreak’s spark clenched painfully. “But he was a part of the team here on Earth, so Megatron had to care at least a little, didn’t he?”

Knockout snorted dismissively and bitterly.

“When Breakdown got captured by some filthy humans, Megatron did nothing about it. Starscream of all mecha was the one who finally went to get him, and he had to do it behind Megatron’s back, lest he anger our leader by saving his own soldier. And by the time he did, the Autobots had already gotten there and done the job for him. The Autobots rescued him before his own faction bothered to!”

Clawed digits dipped into the dirt, dragging shallow gouges into the patches of green.

“And the worst part was that Breakdown wouldn’t let himself be angry. He wouldn’t even let me replace his optic, insisting it was a reminder of his failure, as if it was all his fault and he deserved what happened. As if somehow through apologies he could convince Megatron to care!”

Knockout’s frame shook as his voice grew.  

“And I let him. I knew that Megatron didn’t and wouldn’t ever care, but I let him keep that despicable patch and we stayed with that despicable mech because I was so sure we were on the winning team, and Breakdown paid the price for it!”

He grew silent then, for just a moment, crouched and trembling with emotions that Wildbreak couldn’t name from where he stood. Wildbreak was caught between wanting to say something and dreading that saying anything at all would cause Knockout to realize what he was admitting and clam up. Knockout was always so swift to change topics when his own emotions slipped through.

When Knockout finally spoke, it wasn’t as cold as before, couldn’t detach itself from emotion, but it was softer again.

“And then that horrid human took his frame from me. Took it and corrupted it to house his weak fleshy body, and he walked right into the Nemesis like he deserved a place with us, and Megatron let him. He let that – that abomination in Breakdown’s offlined frame try to earn his way into the Decepticons.”

Wildbreak’s optics went wide, shocked when his spark didn’t pulse with familiarity in response. For the first time that night, it didn’t know what Knockout was talking about at all, though his spark still twisted tight enough to make him nauseous at the thought.

“And I still stayed. After it all, I still stayed.”

Wildbreak wasn’t sure when he had started moving, but soon enough he was kneeling in front of Knockout. The mech was so hunched over that Wildbreak couldn’t make out his face in the shadows, but there were drops of cleanser dripping to the ground and Knockout’s vents hitched with every ventilation. His servos were caked with dirt where he was crushing the ground beneath them.

“I made that abomination scream for weeks,” Knockout confessed, sounding bitter and ashamed. “I called what I was doing experimentation, but it was torture and we all knew it.”

“I mean, that’s not that weird,” Wildbreak tried to reason. Wildbreak wasn’t good at comforting, had so rarely been shown that sort of affection and his team would have never accepted it, thinking it made them look weak. So he just followed the prompting of his spark and placed his servo on top of Knockout’s where it was piercing the ground. “You had to get it out of you, and it’s not like you coulda done it to Megatron or something.”

A wretched chuckle escaped Knockout.

“Spoken like a true Decepticon.”

Wildbreak didn’t understand �� he had seen time and again that mecha lashed out at weaker ones when they couldn’t fight the cause of their frustration. His teammates certainly always did. That was normal, wasn’t it?

Were – were Autobots not like that?

Knockout’s digits finally unearthed themselves and Wildbreak further wrapped his servo around Knockout’s, squeezing it. He wasn’t sure if it was for Knockout or himself anymore.

“It still doesn’t sound like it was your fault.”

That surprised Knockout enough that he looked up, and Wildbreak’s spark ached at the thick lines of cleanser streaking down his face and how his features were tight and twisted with grief and hatred.

“Breakdown died because I didn’t want to defect. How is that not my fault?!” Knockout hissed.

“I mean, you can’t control everything,” Wildbreak said, aware that his voice was strained around the tightness of his intake. “Maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to. Or even if you convinced him and had defected, you can’t know for sure something bad wouldn’t have still happened, right? He coulda died anyway.”

“But if I had just--!”

“You don’t know that!” Wildbreak insisted, his hold on Knockout’s servo tightening. “And thinking ‘bout it isn’t gonna change nothing.”

“But—!”

“Breakdown wouldn’t’ve wanted you to blame yourself.” Wildbreak had meant it to come out as a question, to end it with ‘would he?’, but his spark roared that it was a fact.

Knockout looked stricken. His optics were wide and his jaw was slack and his cheeks were still wet with tears. Then, slowly, his face crumpled.

When Knockout’s free servo reached up to grasp Wildbreak’s arm as he ducked his helm, frame rattling with a sob, Wildbreak let himself be pulled forward. Knockout’s tears felt as if they were burning against his neck.

Wildbreak held him tight and let him cry.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“It’s ok,” Wildbreak said, shuffling closer when Knockout tried to pull away. He had long lost track of time, not sure when they had arrived so he had no beginning marker, but it had been a while. The heavy wailing had tapered off soon enough, but it was the lingering hiccups and relapses that took time for Knockout to work through. And even once it was finally over, Knockout had kept himself curled against Wildbreak, helm ducked, until his ventilations had finally slowed to normal.

Now, after it all, Knockout lifted his chin, and it was only because Wildbreak was looking for them that he noticed the dried residue on his cheeks.

Wildbreak’s digits itched to rub the lines away.

“Are you ok now?”

“Was I ever?” Knockout asked sarcastically, the smirk that came with it weak. He shifted, accepting the closeness that Wildbreak was trying to maintain by simply settling onto his hip instead of his knees, his frame still leaning against Wildbreak but now against his side. Knockout’s helm flopped against Wildbreak’s shoulder. “But yes, I am better now. Thank you.”

“Oh, uh, it’s no problem,” Wildbreak said, unsure what else he could possibly say. The physical closeness he could at least handle, keeping his servo on Knockout’s shoulder, doing his best to comfort. Wildbreak was still uncomfortable being in the clearing in a way he couldn’t describe, but it was obvious that Knockout needed to stay a while longer, and Wildbreak could live with the discomfort.

“You know, I can’t even remember the last time I said his name out loud before meeting you.”

“Really?” Wildbreak asked, optics widening as a flustered heat started to build around his spark.

Knockout nodded, his helm rasping against the armor of Wildbreak’s arm as he hummed, “Mm-hm.”

“Didn’t you talk to anyone after it happened?”

“Who would I have talked to?” Knockout asked. “I was barely a step above Breakdown and only because I had medical skills. And, frankly, that never kept them from treating me like a punching bag when they needed one.”

Wildbreak couldn’t imagine a mech as handsome and charming as Knockout being so alone and abused, but the evidence was there clear as day in the bitter curl to Knockout’s lips.

“But uh, Dreadwing, right? He was the guy who told you the coordinates?”

“Because he was the only one amongst them who had a shred of decency, but he was blindly loyal until the day Megatron shot a hole through his spark.”

Wildbreak winced.

“One of the vehicons?”

That got an amused huff out of Knockout.

“You sound just like him sometimes.”

With a throbbing pulse of his spark, Wildbreak turned to look at Knockout fully. Knockout seemed just as surprised at the words that came out of his mouth, his optics staring straight ahead as he lifted his helm off Wildbreak’s shoulder, not daring to meet Wildbreak’s optics.

“What I mean is Breakdown got along with the vehicons,” Knockout said, clearly trying to hide how his plating heated where it met Wildbreak’s, “and he always wanted me to get to know them better. They honestly would have been my best choice. I think they missed him too.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Knockout shrugged.

“It took years before I let Breakdown in past my charming exterior. How could I have possibly let myself appear weak in front of some mecha I had only known for a few months?”

“You let me.”

It was hard to tell who was burning hotter where their plating met.

“Yes, well,” Knockout stammered, looking down to pick dirt from between the plates of his digits. “You’re easy to trust, I suppose. You don’t have a dishonest strut in your frame.”

“I lied to Motormaster to come with you,” Wildbreak admitted, and that just made Knockout smile.

“I’m honored to see I’m such a good influence on you.”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know, I know,” Knockout said as he peeked at Wildbreak out of the corner of his optic before returning to his digits. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this so you’ll have to forgive me.”

“What d’you mean ‘this’?”

“Being honest, opening up, all that nonsense,” Knockout said. He flicked his servo to scatter some of the dirt and debris that had come loose. “It just doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Wildbreak’s ridges knitted together as he replied, “But you’re – you’re good at talking.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Wildbreak. I am well aware of that.” Knockout finally looked at him again, flashing him a gorgeous grin, and it was only because of the circumstances that Wildbreak realized it was completely fake. “I know how to charm mecha. I just never got the hang of actually connecting with them.”

With a frown, Wildbreak asked, “You haven’t made any friends with the Autobots?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Bumblebee’s old teammates are shockingly lovely,” Knockout admitted as the exaggerated smile started to fade a bit. “And I’m sure they would love to hear all about the trauma I have from having spent most of my life as a Decepticon, and that’s why I’ll never tell them. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. Not when they don’t understand what it was like.”

Wildbreak remembered the anxiety he had felt when telling Knockout about his life with the Stunticons, the fear of judgment that ultimately never came.

“So you told me ‘cause I’m a Con.”

Finally the smile faded to a small, gentle curl of Knockout’s mouth.

“That’s a part of it, I suppose.”

Wildbreak’s spark raced in his chest, anxious and hopeful at once.

“And?”

Knockout’s ex-vent was amused sounding as he teased, “Greedy for compliments?”

“Is that bad?”

“Quite the opposite. Which means I’ll have to reward you with an actual answer, won’t I?” Despite his tone, Knockout’s optics returned to his digits, oddly shy as he looked for any dirt left to be picked out. Wildbreak waited as Knockout cycled a ventilation. “You really do remind me of him sometimes.”

And just like that, the racing of Wildbreak’s spark shifted from what his processor could understand to something that just resulted in errors.

“You mean Breakdown?”

Knockout nodded. “Sometimes you say things, or smile a certain way, or laugh just right, and it’s uncanny.”

TELL HIM.

“Am I that much like him?”

“No. I mean, you’re sweet and too honest, and the paintjob similarity is almost scary,” Knockout replied as he flicked a few strands of grass from between his joints. “But you’re also like me in that you’re a coward. And I mean that as a compliment – I wish Breakdown hadn’t been so eager to run helm-first into a fight. Though you are even more trusting than he was which is honestly shocking and something I’m going to try to get you to break the habit of.”

TELL HIM. TELL HIM.

“Besides, most importantly, Breakdown’s offline. I’d say that’s a rather important detail.”

TELL HIM. TELL HIM. TELL HIM. TELL—

“Well, maybe I’m like, a reincarnation, or something weird like that,” Wildbreak stammered, anxious and hoping against hope that it would make his spark stop threatening to break out of its casing.

Knockout stilled. Even his ventilations stalled.

And then air whooshed from his vents.

“You’re giving Primus far too much credit,” Knockout insisted as he turned to look at Wildbreak. There was something almost comforting in the way his servo grasped Wildbreak’s arm. “Coincidences are just that.”

Coincidences didn’t explain the way Wildbreak’s spark ached.

Coincidences didn’t explain the way Knockout had hesitated.

But then Knockout reached his servo out to cup Wildbreak’s face.

“And I like you just the way you are.”

The ache of Wildbreak’s spark was, within seconds, utterly overwhelmed by the rush of flustered glee. Wildbreak could feel a smile tugging at his lips as he said, “Aww, shucks, Knockout. You mean it?”

Knockout snickered at him, but there was with nothing but warmth and a fondness in the way he looked at Wildbreak.

“Primus, you’re adorable,” Knockout murmured, and Wildbreak’s temperature skyrocketed, no doubt hot against Knockout’s servo and wherever their plating met. “Of course I mean it.”

“I-I like you too,” Wildbreak blurted. It felt like his spark was pulsating out of control, and it felt like it was all his, no weirdness he couldn’t understand, no mystery. Just Wildbreak and his feelings and Knockout’s ever growing smile. “I mean, that was probably pretty obvious, but I figured I should say it.”

Knockout’s thumb stroking along Wildbreak’s cheek had his vents hitching.

“I had figured that one out, but it’s still nice to hear. Though,” Knockout drawled as he leaned that much closer, “I haven’t been able to quite put my digit on the way you like me. Are you looking for a guardian? A friend? Perhaps even a lover?”

Wildbreak’s cooling fans whirled to life as his frame finally burned too hot, and his face twisted with shame.

“Oh, n-no, I would never – I don’t expect you to like me that way, ‘cause I know you loved Breakdown, so you don’t have to worry about any of that. I’m happy with what we got.”

Knockout’s optics were wide with surprise. Slowly though the surprise faded to leave him with the small, sad smile that always came with talking about Breakdown.

“I hadn’t realized I was that transparent. But you’re right,” Knockout admitted softly. His servo was still cupping Wildbreak’s face, keeping him from looking away. “I did love him. I still do, and unfortunately it seems that I’ll never be able to stop. I--” Knockout trailed off, optics flickering down for a moment, the corners of his lips tensing as he ex-vented heavily. “I miss him so much.”

“Knockout--”

“But he’s dead,” Knockout interrupted definitively, optics finding Wildbreak’s again. “I can love and miss him all I want, but he’s still dead and I’m still alive and so fragging lonely.”

Wildbreak’s spark ached with a regret that wasn’t his. And this time, the pushing of his spark was softer. Quieter. Begging instead of demanding.

Tell him. Miss him.

“You shouldn’t be lonely,” Wildbreak murmured honestly. Knockout huffed and his digits stroked the side of his helm.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not when I’m with you.”

Kiss him.

Wildbreak’s spark was finally in complete agreement with his processor for the first time that he could remember.

It was only when his mouth met Knockout’s a little too hard that Wildbreak realized what he was doing, and the muffled noise of surprise from Knockout mixed with the sting of impact caused embarrassment to race down Wildbreak’s lines as he jerked back.

“S-sorry, I’ve never – I don’t really know how to--”

Knockout chuckled.

“Hush,” Knockout murmured as his servo slipped behind Wildbreak’s helm. “You just surprised me.”

“But I really don’t know how to do this good.”

“That’s alright. I’ll teach you.”

When Knockout leaned in it was softly and gently, lips warm against Wildbreak’s. He couldn’t help gasping quietly because it was so nice, so unlike anything Wildbreak had ever felt, but also familiar in a way that had his spark pulsing with warmth.

Knockout’s digits trembled against the back of his neck.

Wildbreak pulled away again, concerned as he asked, “Knockout?”

Knockout’s digits tightened, though there was still a subtle quiver to his grasp.

“I haven’t done this since Breakdown,” Knockout confessed.

“Oh.” Realization of where they were and just what they were doing hit Wildbreak and he felt guilt bubbling in his tanks. “Y-you don’t have to do this then.”

“Of course I don’t. But I--” Knockout glanced away then, abashed as he pulled further back. “But it’s hardly fair that you need put up with my—well, all of this.”

“I don’t mind.” Knockout’s gaze met Wildbreak’s again, surprised, and Wildbreak shrugged weakly. “I mean it. I really don’t mind. I just want to make sure you’re ok with this.”

Crimson optics flickered and for a moment Wildbreak swore he saw cleanser welling up in them.

And then Knockout was suddenly pushing up to his pedes, tugging at Wildbreak’s servos, insisting, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m sure I can find a better place to show you a proper first time.”

Wildbreak easily let himself be pulled since he was eager to leave the clearing behind. Every step away left his spark lighter.

And then when Knockout finally stopped, whirling around, Wildbreak had only barely managed to keep from barreling into him. An apology was already on its way out of Wildbreak’s voicebox when Knockout’s servos braced against his shoulder, helping him find his balance.

As soon as Wildbreak had his footing, though, Knockout slid his arms around his neck and leaned in.

And Knockout was kissing him again. This time it was more insistent, desperate and passionate. Wildbreak’s processor stalled so he followed his first instincts as he embraced Knockout and tried to keep up, to kiss back even if it was clumsy.

And his spark finally settled in quiet contentment.

Wildbreak didn’t question how his digits knew where to slip past Knockout’s plating and stroke sensitive receptors that had Knockout gasping against his lips.

“Beginner’s luck,” Knockout had teased as he shuddered, plating flaring to give Wildbreak room to sink in further for deeper nodes. “But Primus, don’t stop.”

Wildbreak didn’t question that with the awe that came from staring up at Knockout in pleasure – handsome face all the more beautiful for it and his frame so gorgeous and tempting that Wildbreak’s engine purred without his permission –there was also a moment of déjà vu.

And Wildbreak didn’t dare question the flicker of confusion when Knockout was knelt between his thighs and could still reach his lips for a kiss.

“How do you want me?” Knockout murmured against his neck, nipping a fuel line that had Wildbreak gasping as his back arched.

“I-inside me. I don’t think I’d – hahh – be good at spiking.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn,” Knockout insisted as he pushed up to his elbows, bracketing Wildbreak’s helm, and watching with bright, eager optics as he rolled his hips. With another gasp and tremble, Wildbreak’s panels shifted away, desperate and unable to control himself, weak against the pleasure. “I’ll show you by example.”

It was teasing, Wildbreak knew that, and he should have tried to tease back, or laugh, or anything to maintain that lighter mood – but instead his servos clung as he turned his helm, trying to find Knockout’s lips to kiss again as he whined, barely louder than an ex-vent, “Please--!”

Wildbreak didn’t question any of it because he desperately didn’t want to think anymore. About spark troubles or reincarnation or who he might have been; about his team or lingering injuries or the boss who gave them to him; about the terrible intersection that begged the question if Wildbreak was just going to live through the same mistakes and someday offline like Breakdown had – at the hands of a leader who would never truly care about him no matter how hard he tried.

He didn’t want to think about any of it.

Wildbreak just wanted to be here, now, with Knockout.

Thankfully, Knockout didn’t deny him. Knockout kissed him, and Wildbreak didn’t even know how many times they had kissed, or if he was any good at it now, but it was still soothing. When Knockout was kissing him, everything felt like it would be alright.

Knockout kissed Wildbreak as he slowly pushed inside him. And Knockout kissed him until Wildbreak’s frame was ready for him to move. And still Knockout kissed him while Wildbreak shuddered and bucked and clung to him as they fragged, choked by the overwhelming affection of his spark.

Until the wet drops hit Wildbreak’s face.

His optics onlined slowly, confused in the haze of pleasure, and that’s when Wildbreak saw the source. He pulled away from the kiss, panting against Knockout’s lips, managing, “K-Knockout?”

Knockout immediately jerked to a halt, his optics onlining quickly as shame crossed his handsome face. There was no mistaking the tears that were escaping or how the way his cooling systems heaved wasn’t just from their interfacing. He pushed up onto his servos, stammering, “Scrap, I’m sorry--”

“No, no, it’s ok! You don’t have to say sorry,” Wildbreak protested, reaching out to keep Knockout from retreating further and trying to tug him back in. “Should we stop? I didn’t mean to push you if you didn’t want to--”

“It’s not that,” Knockout insisted, scrubbing at his face with one servo, clearly embarrassed. “I do, and you’re fine, you’re so good – Primus, I--”

“You what?”

A fresh wave of cleanser spilled down Knockout’s cheeks as he murmured, “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to feel like this again.”

Wildbreak would swear his spark was swelling, filling his chest until it was choking him, and still pushing harder as if trying to reach further. It couldn’t reach though, not the way his servos could, pulling Knockout close while he pushed himself away from the ground, moving to hold Knockout as close as their frames could allow.

“I love you,” escaped Wildbreak, spark and processor in agreement, and he felt the way that Knockout shuddered and his hips rocked.

“Don’t say that.” Knockout’s optics were wide and wet but his servos grasped Wildbreak tight, like he never wanted to let go, and his spark was pulsing so hard that Wildbreak felt the vibrations of Knockout’s chest against his own.

Wildbreak kissed Knockout, shifting so he straddled Knockout’s lap, took Knockout inside again as they both gasped at the pleasure.

“I love you, Knockout.”

Knockout kissed Wildbreak, picking up their rhythm again while clutching at each other.

Knockout still had tears streaming down his face and Wildbreak was desperately ignoring the the déjà vu that came with telling Knockout he loved him. But he wouldn’t have asked to be anywhere else doing anything else with anyone else.

So Wildbreak let himself drown in Knockout’s kisses and the sound of his name – “Wildbreak, frag, Wildbreak” – on Knockout’s lips.

[rurounidrift]

Blurr’s Horror Movie Night - Finding Dory

Roadbuster showed up for once! Unfortunately so did Starscream, so Drift spent most of the night waiting for an opportunity to politely threaten him for threatening Blurr. Sadly it never happened.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. Meanxgreen: {{  oh boi i made it to one )) B l u r r: [[ woop!! ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave rolls in with the usual two horror movie suspects and heads for his seat. They scatter.* ItsyBitsySpyers: ((CHIPMUNK PRIME)) B l u r r: [[ THE BAE ]] Bevel: *trundles in and goes to find a seat* B l u r r: / trudges in. has flexi bands wrapped nice and tight around his helm and face. His eye patch is gone- covered by the flexiband/ B l u r r: / And one of his finials is half melted. But eeeey. / Butterbuns changed their nickname to Starscream. Meanxgreen: *Stomps in* I'm here, heathens! B l u r r: Heathens? Meanxgreen: *immediately runs to blurr* Yes ones like you! What happened to you!? B l u r r: ...Nothing. B l u r r: Don't worry about it. Bevel: Hi, Blurr. Are you ok? Meanxgreen: Liar, you aren't! ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy squints at Blurr, then waves a  hand* B l u r r: I'm fine. /wiggles claws at Bevel / B l u r r: / waves to Frenzy / ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I'M OFF-DUTY TODAY. I AIN'T FIXIN' NO OPTICS.\\ Whirl: *trots on in, making a beeline for his hammock* Starscream: You look like a recycled aluminum can. B l u r r: There's no optic to fix, idiot. /looks at Roadie / Shut up. B l u r r: *wayy B l u r r: Oh, Starscream, don't talk about yourself that wa. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave bobs his helm hello at Starscream* Whirl: Yeah, what the hell happened to you, Teach? ItsyBitsySpyers: *While the twins race to pounce on Whirl before he can make it to the hammock* Meanxgreen: Is this what i get for coming to one of your movie nights!? *shakes helm* Bevel: *transforms her fingers into claws and wiggles them back at Blurr* Whirl: *OH SHI HE IS NOT PREPARED* Bevel: *waves to Starscream* B l u r r: / vents/ No, but I wasn't expecting to show up... /tilts helm a little / Nothing. I'm fine. B l u r r: Small fight. No big deal. Starscream: You can't work for me if you get killed. I would be most upset if you end up dead. ItsyBitsySpyers: *They're goin' for the knockdown* Meanxgreen: *squints at blurr* It better of or i'll have to kick someone's *** *grabs Blurr* Now where do we sit? B l u r r: I can work for whoever I want in whatever state I wan-!!! Rodimus: /is here. Only cause he heard there was free food and drinks/ B l u r r: / stumbles and grumbles / To my couch. /points/ And don't just GRAB me ItsyBitsySpyers: //Yeah, you gotta kiss him first.// ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy snorts* B l u r r: Do NOt give him ideas! Meanxgreen: i can do that too! B l u r r: / points at Roadie/ Do NOT. Whirl: *he is not quite so easy to knock off-balance* What the--ok. Okay. Whirl: Question the first: Teach. What the hell happened. Question the second: what the heck's gotten into you two? ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy boos in disappointment when Whirl doesn't fall over, then punches the leg hello.* B l u r r: / waves claw at Whirl / I'm perfectly fine. It was just a scuffle. Rodimus: /chills on a couch and then stares at Blurr and then snorts/ ItsyBitsySpyers: //We were gonna beatcha to the hammock 'n claim ya gotta pay toll.// Meanxgreen: *pouts* Fine! *walks and sits on couch, placing blurr on lap* Blurr is bein' difficult tonight Whirl: He's ALWAYS difficult. B l u r r: / huffs and flops in his lap / Lies. Whirl: And, uh-huh. Did you take on those guys who were after you, or somethin? B l u r r: What- no. Whirl: Pfft. And, good luck. B l u r r: I've just been out. Whirl: *he's going to go right up to the hammock. He'll drag the twins if he's gotta* Bevel: Not yet. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Please do. The yelping will be entertaining.* Whirl: *HERE HE GO. CAN'T BE STOPPED* Bevel: *watches Whirl and the twins* ItsyBitsySpyers: *HOLLERING AND SHOUTING* ItsyBitsySpyers: *With a brief break to yell \\HI BEVEL\\ before continuing* Bevel: HI! Whirl: *he will also wave mid-shuffle* Yo, Shovel! Bevel: *waves back with a grin* Meanxgreen: *pulls Blurr up and boops noses* Psst can we just skip the movie and smooch? B l u r r: / crosses arms and just sulks/ B l u r r: / INCREDIBLY HOT FACE / E-excuse me? ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He believes Roadbuster said]] [][][]Psst can we just skip the movie and smooch?[][][] Bevel: No skipping movie. Meanxgreen: I'm sorry did ya want me to ask ya  a lil louder? B l u r r: No, shut up! Meanxgreen: BLURR YA WANNA SMOOCH, LAD? B l u r r: / shoves claws in his face / Rodimus: /starts cracking up/ Meanxgreen: (( I think the music is getting to me xD )) B l u r r: I swear, I will rip out your entire vocalizer! Whirl: *clambering up* Drift: *out in the hallway* Did I hear someone threaten to smooch Blurr? Wing: *what did he just walk into* Meanxgreen: That's what happens when ya invite me to places, lad. B l u r r: / VENTS / B l u r r: / wiggles claws at Wing / Whirl: Should we step outside for a bit, eh Teach? Eh? Bevel: *eugh smooching* Meanxgreen: YES! B l u r r: No. No, it's fine-! Meanxgreen: Aw ItsyBitsySpyers: *The twins, clinging to Whirl's legs still, evidently get a free ride up into the hammock. They let go and settle down proper.* B l u r r: /glances at. Flicks visor / Bevel: Hi, Drift. Whirl: *gets settled into the hammock while the twins wriggle around. He is victorious* I should charge YOU GUYS a toll. Meanxgreen: ouch my feelings, Blurr Wing: *short wave* Hello. *wall gargoyle time. he remembers that* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pfff. Like what?// Whirl: I dunno. Whatcha got? B l u r r: That was your visor, not your feelings. Meanxgreen: I know.. B l u r r: / pats face / Relax. Meanxgreen: *kisses Blurr's cheek* Hopefully i can.. B l u r r: / makes a sound and just VENTS / Meanxgreen: BAHAHA ItsyBitsySpyers: //A loser brother, a spare bomb, 'n an official Ultra Magnus stylus.// Pause. //I didn't say the last thing.// Starscream: *is this awkward flirting. it's painful to watch* B l u r r: What are LAUGHING at? B l u r r: *you ItsyBitsySpyers: \\HEY!\\ Whirl: *looks to Frenzy* What about you? Whirl: Hmm. I don't want anything of Ultra Magnus's. Frenzy's cool, though, I'll take the brother. Bevel: *going to busy herself with tinkering* Drift: Hi, Bevel. Wing: ((is that sg!Screamy?)) Drift: *gonna, casually, saunter over to Blurr and the big grean dude. with a *** eating grin.* Sooo. Who's this. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\A BIGGER, LOSER-IER BROTHER, AN INSECTICON LEG, 'N TEN SHANIX.\\ Meanxgreen: *looks at with a smile* Name's Roadbuster.. You? Whirl: Hmm. Whirl: I'll take the other brother, too. Bevel: *lifts one hand to wave vaguely at Drift* Meanxgreen: (( what a great movie holy moly )) Drift: Drift. The best friend. Drift: I've heard a few things about you. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Pffff. I oughta be worth two tolls.// Wing: ((Blurr's internet drank the hate juice again)) ItsyBitsySpyers: \\OKAY, BUT YOU'RE MISSIN' OUT.\\ ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy slowly pulls the long, skinny, claw-ended extra limb out of his subspace and reaches across Whirl with it to poke his brother.* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Cut it out, fragger!// Swat swat. Meanxgreen: *Leans a bit to Drift* So what's he said about me? Good things? Drift: *leans in as well* Oh yeah. VERY good things. Meanxgreen: *whispers* tell me more.. Star: *Kind of just shuffles in don't mind him.* Starscream: *excuse* Whirl: *snickers* B l u r r: [[ jfc sorry everyone ]] Whirl: ((not your fault!)) Whirl: Where did you even GET that? Rodimus: (its okay) B l u r r: / shoves a claw in Roadie's face AND Drift's / Can we not? B l u r r: I'm still right here. Drift: Oh, he's told me all about how wonderful you are. How handsome and stro—*is shoved* Drift: *he's laughing* Wing: *that's new* ItsyBitsySpyers: \\FROM AN INSECTICON. DUH.\\ Meanxgreen: *manly giggling*  Oh reaaally? Whirl: *ZOOPS his head out to STARE at Blurr and give his one faceless one-eyed verison of a shi eating grin* Whirl: So. Can't help but notice your beau's here with ya, Teach. B l u r r: Pits... B l u r r: / scrapes claws down face and hisses in pain. Ow ow ow he caught part of his face / B l u r r: / fixes flexi band / Bevel: Can I see that, Frenzy? Star: *Stiffly settles himself somewhere in the back* ItsyBitsySpyers: *He frowns.* Drift: Whoa! Hey hey hey. *takes one of Blurr's hands* Don't hurt yourself. ItsyBitsySpyers: \\I'M GETTIN' IT BACK, RIGHT?\\ B l u r r: Oh, trust me, I'm not... just snagged. Bevel: Promise! B l u r r: [[ okay who's ready ? ] Wing: ((so I'm guessing that's not sg!Screamy then?__ Whirl: ((I am!)) Bevel: [[ready ItsyBitsySpyers: ((ready)) Drift: ((ready! is it still offline tho?)) Drift: ((or am I unlucky?)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((press pause and unpause)) Meanxgreen: (( YEE LETS GET THIS STARTED)) B l u r r: i put it back online so idk >>;; ]] Meanxgreen: (( JUst pause then upause!)) Drift: ((ah there it go)) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Frenzy holds it out. She can come get it. He's lazy.* Star: (Is SgScream and is ready for the show) Bevel: *will haul her big bulk up and over to take it and very carefully examine it, she won't break it or nothing* Whirl: *he's already greeted her but he'll bob his head again; Bevel's cool* Bevel: *grins* Starscream: *will eye the other Starscream* I don't think I've had the pleasure. You are...? Bevel: *pokes Rumble with it veeeeeery carefully when he's not looking* Wing: *just staring at sg!Scream... slightly nervous, for him, not of him* You're here. B l u r r: / stretches arms up and cracks all claws / B l u r r: Well, at least you've met my friends. Small group, but they're all important. /pats Roadie's chassis / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble yells unusually creative curses involving power outlets and tries unsuccessfully to wriggle away from it* Star: *Suddenly has attention on him* Oh! Bevel: *sorry not sorry* Ratchet: ((Test!! I've been trying to send messages but flashblock keeps happening lol)) B l u r r: [[ hi Ratch! ]] Meanxgreen: Your friends are alright... Maybe just as weird as OH PRIMUS THAT IS AN ADORABLE FISH Ratchet: ((Yay it works! henlo people)) B l u r r: / snorts/ You're so easily amused. Whirl: ((YO 8D)) Bevel: *she'll hand it back to Frenzy now and go sit down with a giggle* Star: *He gave Wing a small smile* I am ItsyBitsySpyers: *Pokes HER with it as she goes* Whirl: *picks up Rumble in his huge *** claws and just. Holds him up. Away from the leg* Star: *@ Star* I'm Starscream. Whirl: *you paid the toll u get service* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Wh--!// ItsyBitsySpyers: //...Yeah, all right.// Gonna just. Get comfy here, he guesses. Jazz: *busts in like WHAT TIME IS IT? SHOW TIME!! * Sup Wing. *finger guns* My mech. *hops over couch* Hi Sounders! Whirl: *he'll put you back down as soon as the coast's clear* Bevel: *sticks her glossa out at the twins* Starscream: ..yes. I Think I could see that. I'm /also/ Starscream, current leader of Cybertron. ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave scoots to the far end of the couch.* Star: *Looks the other over in surpise* Leader of Cybertron? ...Wow. Whirl: Ugh. I'm trying to enjoy myself and forgget my troubles, Starscream, could you NOT remind me? B l u r r: / is trying his HARDEST to ignore SG Star. Glares over the couch at him. Hissssss. / Wing: *oh hi Jazz. wave. edges closer to Star* B l u r r: / settles back with Roadie and Drift / Whirl: *waiiit a second* ...Teach? B l u r r: Yes? Whirl: Is this the Starscream? THE one? Drift: *plops down* Meanxgreen: *Holds blurr a bit tighter* You alright, lad? Starscream: *preeens. That's right, he's living the dream* B l u r r: .. Yes, I'm fine. /hums and settles. Looks at Whirl/ That would be my Starscream, yes. Though, he hasn't done anything /yet/. so he's fine... Whirl: But he IS the one that threatened you with a combiner? Yes? *he is gonna set Rumble down and sit up in his hammock* Drift: *what's blurr glaring at? turns to loo—TENSES UP* Star: *Isn't in really great shape. His arm is malfunctioning and he's not trying to look at Blurr. Plus he's covered in patches./ B l u r r: He didn't threaten me with it. Apparently Menasor is bored and offered. Wing: *edging closer to Star again, just in case* Is everything okay? Whirl: *swings one leg out of the hammock* ItsyBitsySpyers: *Rumble is sorta disappointed to lose his high up perch, but he senses something's up.* B l u r r: [[ omg i love the stingray ]] Whirl: So he is. Wing: *he sees that, Whirl* ItsyBitsySpyers: //Hold up, are we killin' people?// Drift: *slides back down and hisses at Blurr* What's he doing here. Star: (I love this part) Starscream: Whirl, are you about to start picking fights? Whirl: Possibly. B l u r r: ( omg yes same ) B l u r r: No, no fighting. None right now. B l u r r: / points claws at people / Stop. Cease. ItsyBitsySpyers: //Spoilsport.// Mutter mutter. Whirl: *swivels his helm to stare at Blurr, optic shrinking* Meanxgreen: Is this a usual movie night? Whirl: *he debating whether or not to ignore him* B l u r r: Not usually... Drift: *mutters* There's more Starscreams than usual. Star: *Gives Wing a small smile before it dropped while looking at the others* I'm fine... Whirl: 'Scuse me, you two. *carefully untangles himself and leaves the hammock* Wing: *watching Whirl carefully* Whirl: *strolls across the room, casual as you please* Starscream. A word? Wing: *to Star* No. Whirl: Not talking to you, NAIL. B l u r r: HEY. /snarls and sits up/ Ratchet: /finally decides to pop in/ Oh, there's a crowd Starscream: You've used more than one word already. Ratchet: ((sorry I got distracted haha)) Whirl: *looks back to Blurr* I'm not starting something. ItsyBitsySpyers: ((...what ratchet is this)) B l u r r: Call mechs by their NAMES. Whirl: Not YOU, King Idiot. *nods to SGScream* You. B l u r r: Except for your Starscream. You can call him whatever you want, pit knows he shouldn't be naming himself. Ratchet: ((Sg! Haven't been on in a couple years...)) Starscream: It would take less eyes than both you and our gracious host have to see you are definitely 'starting something' ItsyBitsySpyers: ((WELP)) B l u r r: ... /snarls loudly and stands  up/ Rodimus: (-hugs ratchets face- I've missed you!) ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave glances at the new mech in the room... and has both twins in his feelers and is out the door in a FLASH* Whirl: *blinks and looks around, startled* Meanxgreen: Blurr please, what is going on!? Wing: *quietly* Whirl, don't do this. *he's not threatening. he's asking* Meanxgreen: (( i LEAVE FOR A MINUTE)) Star: *Was going to be sassy about two Star's but he vents instead* B l u r r: Listen here, Kingpin. I don't need any optics to see that you're like a struggling doctor, no patien- RATCHET! Ratchet: Yes, me... Whirl: *looks to Wing, unmoved* Do what? I just want to say one little thing. Starscream: ..speak of a doctor and one will appear? B l u r r: Where in the PIT HAVE YOU BEEN?! Bevel: *...moves over by Soundwave upon seeing Ratchet* B l u r r: [[ i want to live the life of a nemo turtle ]] Starscream: *Has nooo idea hat sort of of interpersonal *** is going on here* B l u r r: / looks at Roadbuster / Did I mention I might be in deep scrap? B l u r r: Lately? Starscream: ((Ratchet can ya tone your name down by a few shades Ratchet: /shrugs/ Around, I suppose. Still getting into trouble I see? Meanxgreen: You... *raises servos* You're in WHAT!? Ratchet: ((Sorry, is this one better? ;u; )) Starscream: ((yes, thank you! Wing: Then please. Say it and settle. Nothing is happening. Bevel: [[or not since he left ha, welp Star: *Doesn't even know what to do* B l u r r: I am in.. some scrap. Drift: ... Why? What happened? Whirl: Oh, not yet, it's not. Ahem. So, Satrscream? You and your handler, Megatron, are after Blurr. Whirl: Last I heard you were threatening to send a combiner after them. Bevel: *welp, she's just going to...sit exactly where she's sitting and hope somehow she isn't seen* B l u r r: Nothing... /happened / Wing: *don't mind that he's near about in front of Star at this point* Drift: *oh, is Whirl threatening Starscream?* ... Be right back. Meanxgreen: WHY ARE YOU LYING!? WHIRL IS RIGHT THERE TELLIN' ME SOMETHIN ELSE Star: *looked at Whirl with a frown* My handler? Starscream: That is way more than one word. Drift: *he's gonna give Whirl backup.* Whirl: *snakes his helm up over Wing's shoulder* Yeah. Whirl: So, because I'm a GOOD FRIEND, I'm not going to start anything here tonight. Wanna let Teach enjoy his night with his beau, see? Starscream: You know- I mean, I won't claim to know how anoher mech thinks- B l u r r: / motions claws at Roadbuster / I'll tell you LATEr. Starscream: But I would think that if Blurr had any issue with my dear counterpart he wouldn't be sitting here in the room right now. Wing: *he can handle that so long as the head doesn't become a canon. watching Whirl AND Drift now* Whirl: Still not talking to you, King Idiot. Starscream: Hanging from the bow of the ship with his limbs missing, perhaps. Meanxgreen: *Crosses arms*  Hmp... Later... Star: What are you talking about? I didn't come here to start any trouble. Wing: ((SIGOURNEY WEAVER)) Drift: *no weapons being drawn. he's just crossing his arms imposingly.* Whirl: Oh, no. You started the trouble long ago. Whirl: As soon as you're off this ship, you're free game. B l u r r: [[ THE BEST WOMAN ]] Star: (She is~) Starscream: *arches an eyebrow* Whirl: And I've got a lot of free time with nothing else to do, mech. Wing: I think he gets the point. And I wouldn't do that. Starscream: Are you planning on assaulting someone in Iacon? Drift: Hey, there's no need for that. B l u r r: / vents and looks at Roadbuster / I will tell you everything. Later. Whirl: Is this walking technicolo mistake a citizen of your city? B l u r r: It's not that big a deal Meanxgreen: ((i love hank so much)) Star: -vents and points at his arm- Do I look like I'm trying anything? Wing: *sigh* He's my friend, too. Whirl: And, if you're trying to intimidate me, NAIL, you're only amusing me. B l u r r: [[ same omg ]] Drift: I mean, there's no point in assaulting someone who's not going to cause any trouble, right? Starscream: Citizen or not, assault is a crime. What sort of city would I be running if I let hapless travellers be set upon by derranged helicopters? Whirl: So, you're NOT the mech that threatened Blurr? Ratchet: /just gonna be standing back here watching, looking bored but amused anyway/ Whirl: You and your Megatron DON'T plan on coming after him? Bevel: *loves hank and his color changing* Star: -is actually pretty tired of this, he's sore and in pain and his arm isn't working- B l u r r: / leans over the couch and looks at Star/ Hey. Starscream. Drift: *sweet smile* I'm sure we can talk this out, right? Star: -he's liking this other Starscream already- ....Yes, Blurr? Whirl: Well, if you're not going to answer me, I'm going to assume that everything I think is true. Starscream: That's because you're a moron. Whirl: Also--sod off, King Idiot. This isn't your turf. B l u r r: / flickers optic / ... Tell Megatron something for me. Starscream: It's not your turf either. It seems to be neutral territory for the moment. B l u r r: [[ I love how she's just her own name. ]] Wing: Neither is it yours. B l u r r: [[ she's not a character name ]] B l u r r: [[ ALSO IDRIS ELBA ]] Whirl: And? I'm not trying to boss anyone around. Whirl: The only thing I'M doing is asking a question. Whirl: And delivering a promise. Wing: And a threat. Starscream: Whirl is unable to distinguish between the two. Star: .... -looks at Blurr- And that is? Meanxgreen: (( i love hank so much oml)) Whirl: (9HE'S THE BEST)) Starscream: ((I have a Hank plush i got after seeing this in theaters ;u;)) B l u r r: ... /vents and leans. Half crawled over Roadbuster / Whirl: They can be both. B l u r r: Tell him to go suck on a railroad spike. Whirl: Anyway--I've said what I need to say. Now, nobody can say I wasn't cordial, and didn't give anyone a fair head start. Whirl: Or a chance to defend themselves. Meanxgreen: *pats blurr's back* Blurr don't stress yourself out too much lad... Wing: *that was all too disheartening, Blurr* Star: -gave Blurr an exasperated look before looking back at Whirl as best he could from behind Wing- B l u r r: / flops back in Roadie's lap and huffs / Anyway. B l u r r: / looks at Ratchet. Hi, guess who is a patch work mess. Flexi bandages all over the face / B l u r r: You took your time. Whirl: *he's done here. Turns and strolls back to his hammock* Starscream: Drift, I think you need to find a hobby for your poor belegured crewmate. Macrame, perhaps. Ratchet: ... Blurr, exactly what have you been getting into now? Drift: *waves Starscream off* Meanxgreen: (( OMG I LOVE DESTINY TOO. I KNOW SHE'D BE ROADIE'S FAVOURITE)) Wing: *vents and plants his back on a wall near Star* *quietly* Would you mind if I went back with you? B l u r r: ... A lot, hoenstly, Ratch. B l u r r: *honestly Whirl: *plops down in his hammock* Oh, I've got a hammock, King Idiot. Whirl: *hobby Whirl: whop Starscream: ((You do indeed have a hammock, Whirl Starscream: ((it is a fine hammock Ratchet: Hmm, well you seem to be functioning just fine without my help. /he's being sarcastic/ Star: -stared at Wing- I'd see no problem to that. Whirl: ((he do)) B l u r r: I'm perfectly fine. Whirl: *streetches out and relaxes* B l u r r: [[ BEKCY ]] Drift: *looks at Starscream. Blurr's Starscream.* You mind if I have a minute? Promise I'm not going to threaten you. Meanxgreen: ((Becky with good hair)) Starscream: ((I have a chicken named Becky 'cos of this movie! Drift: *... although it's going to take some effort* Meanxgreen: is this how you talk to a seeker? B l u r r: Oh pit no, it's easy to talk to us B l u r r: / pause. / Er... them. Star: (sorry you guys brb) Wing: Thank you. *watching Drift next. he trusts this one only a little more, which isn't to say much right now* Whirl: *hangs his leg out to rock his hammock cheerfully; this is the best mood he's been in since he lost his home* Whirl: ((HAAANK)) B l u r r: / sinks down in Roadie's lap and just drapes all over him / For pit sake, my everything hurts. Meanxgreen: *carefully pulls the other closer* Well ya mind tellin me WHY ya everythin hurts? Drift: ((oh no, not the touch pool)) B l u r r: Oh, I got in a fight... / shrugs/ Nothing major. Meanxgreen: if you're everything hurts and you say it's nothing. Then you're either lying or you're just really soft. B l u r r: / punches him in the shoulder / B l u r r: I am NOT soft. Meanxgreen: ((wow those yours)) Ratchet: Blurr, after your get together, could you please stop by my medbay? Meanxgreen: ((gdi i was half paying attention to the movie and the chat xD)) B l u r r: You mean MY medbay? /sneers / Wing: ((I hate when that happens)) Ratchet: You allow me to use it, yes? Meanxgreen: ((They made him ink)) B l u r r: Yes, I do. When you're HERE. Ratchet: Well, I'm here now. B l u r r: I see that. Star: (Okay im back) B l u r r: [ nemo's little fin, i cannot ]] B l u r r: [[ little flappa ]] Star: (So I lost everything in chat cause I had to refresh ) Drift: ((i was waitin for you to get back before saying anything)) B l u r r: ... You know, I like that little octopus. Wing: ((is this lagging hard for anyone else?)) Whirl: ((HIS BLUSH)) Meanxgreen: ((its fine here!)) Drift: ((it's okay here)) B l u r r: [[ its lagging on my end and im the one running it @@ ]] Star: (the chat is lagging for me D: ) Whirl: ((it's not bad for me)) Whirl: ((wait as i said that it lagged)) Meanxgreen: ((wow thats strange. its running fine here!)) Wing: ((both chat and movie are lagging like a mofo for me)) B l u r r: / glancing at Star now and then. Rattles plating / B l u r r: [[ chat is lagging for me, too. ]] Wing: ((never mind I think I fixed it)) Star: -looks at Drift who approached him- Starscream: ((yeah chat and movie have been lagging for me but is good! B l u r r: / snarls a little and just settles like an angry cat. Armor all rattled / Bevel: [[everything's working fine on my end Drift: Yeah, hi. Just wanted to talk things out. Meanxgreen: *pats blurr* Calm down, lad. Settle down. Ya gettin fiesty B l u r r: [[ hES CUTTING THE GRASS ]] Meanxgreen: Oh primus... that's horrofyin' for the lil fish Whirl: *silently watches Blurr, but says nothing* Wing: *faint vent* B l u r r: / looks at Roadbuster/ I am not fiesty... B l u r r: We have a history, that's all. Star: -settles his arm against himself- Okay? Whirl: I've got some things I actually need to take care of, Teach. Remember what I told you last week, yeah? B l u r r: Mmhm? Whirl: *bobs his helm and slides out of the hammock* B l u r r: I'll comm you at some point. Star: (I love those two whales) Whirl: See ya. *bobs his head at Bevel, as well* B l u r r: Oh, right. /nudges Roadbuster / Wait, Whirl! Whirl: Mm? B l u r r: Did you two meet officially at all? / snort / Roadbuster, this is my friend Whirl. Whirl, this is Roadbuster. Star: (did he make a zoom out sounds?) Meanxgreen: *nudges back* Whirl: *snorts* I guess we didn't get a formal introduction back on Earth. Whirl: *bobs his head* Good to see Teach finally found someone worth a damn. Drift: Yeah. I heard you're hunting down Blurr. Meanxgreen: Oh wait i think i've talked to ya a few times.... i can't remember. B l u r r: anyway. We should go hunting at some point. B l u r r: All of us. Whirl: *blinks; he seems momentarily and genuinely surprised by this, but he nods* Star: -vents slowly before giving Drift a slow nod- Drift: I wanted to ask about... that. Star: Okay. Bevel: *...can't decide if she likes this movie or hates it* Whirl: Sure thing. Living situation's up in the air, but I'll let you know when it settles down. Drift: ... So, /why/. Meanxgreen: *looks at whirl* So were you the one that had to handle Blurr's *** before i came along? Drift: He's minding his own business. He's not bothering your Decepticons. He's off in space not being a nuisance at all. Whirl: Heh. I tried. But you know how he is. Meanxgreen: Oh boy do i Drift: Why are you threatening him? Whirl: I wish you all the luck in the world. You'll need it. B l u r r: Oh stop, it's not that bad. Whirl: Don't listen to him, it absolutely is. B l u r r: Whirl is a dirty liar. Whirl: Yes, I am, but I am telling the truth this time. Meanxgreen: Oh yeah, he scratches, hits me. Calls me names. *fake sad put* He's a bully B l u r r: all right, I'm a slight bit complex. B l u r r: / rolls optic / Oh don't be such a baby Meanxgreen: *pout* Whirl: Pfft, I meant more along the lines of, "He'd sit at the bottom of a smelter and refuse help." B l u r r: Again with that? Meanxgreen: Ohyeah, he's a stubborn arse B l u r r: That's why I'm alive. Star: I would rather not like to talk about that now. Since there are few still watching this movie. Whirl: *nods* One of the worst/ Meanxgreen: TERRIBLE Whirl: But, yeah. *bobs his head again* About time he had something good in his life. Drift: No offense, but I'm not following you home to ask. Whirl: Don't screw it up, Teach. *mostly jokingly* Whirl: Seeya, Shovel. B l u r r: / snort / Oh har har. I'll comm you later. Star: Then you can send a comm. B l u r r: You can help me out with some cool stuff. Whirl: And you too, Starscream. *cheerful had-bob at SGScream* Whirl: Hopefully real soon. Meanxgreen: *Nods in agreement* Bevel: *sullenly* Bye, Whirl. Drift: *euuuugh, having a Starscream's contact info in his comm unit. sweet smile tenses for a moment.* B l u r r: Just tell him after the movie, you twit . / To SG Star / Drift: *but smooths out. short-range comm ping. there's your comm.* Wing: If it helps, we've already spoken about this. But I'll understand if you'd rather hear it from him directly. Star: Well I thought that was obvious from my first statement /sass/ B l u r r: / snarls at Star / Don't start with me, you upgraded plane. B l u r r: /My/ upgrades are much more advanced and designed by the best /motions to Ratchet / Drift: *ping. you've got drift's comm. so comm.* Ratchet: Aww Blurr, you flatter me B l u r r: ... /sinks back with Roadbuster/ This is why I keep a backup memory. I forget things, too... B l u r r: / smirks at Ratchet / Well, it is the truth. Star: -pings Drift back his own comm. either way. But he's not answering Drift yet- Ratchet: I suppose it is really. As far as I know, only Starscream has more upgrades than you. I intend to beat that record at some point Star: Pft Drift: *He's gonna stay here and wait until Starscream does* B l u r r: Well, I installed something while you were away. B l u r r: We can credit that to you. Ratchet: ... Oh? B l u r r: Something I stole from Thundertron, you see. Wing: *not hopeful* Do any of those upgrades include the ability to heal? Drift: *he's patient. and looming. and vaguely threatening. and smiling.* Ratchet: /side-eyes Wing/ Ability to heal is dreadfully boring if you ask me... Star: -isn't in the position he's in just because he's smart. He doesn't really let all the threatening looks bother him- Wing: *yeah, no* Oh. *he's also still watching Drift, just in case* B l u r r: [[ i love bailey ]] Star: (he belly flopped in) Meanxgreen: {{ I CANT BELIEVE BAILEY JUST GOT CRUSHED)) B l u r r: [[ her name is sigourney ]] B l u r r: [[ I cannot with her being in this movie. Best cameo ]] Drift: ((oh come on, let the poor octopus live in his safe glass box)) Wing: ((she was also the computer/announcer in walle too)) B l u r r: [[ oh my god that's right, she was!! ] B l u r r: / oh my god it's like driving with him. Fast and reckless / Star: -laughs lightly at fish jail- Meanxgreen: OH MY GOD THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER B l u r r: / oh my god it's blurr as a teacher / Star: (my fave line in the movie is where she confuses open ocean and says soap and lotion) Meanxgreen: ((Hank is my favourite shifter)) B l u r r: Well that was... interesting. B l u r r: I hope my processor never does that. Star: -will stay mute on that point- Ratchet: I'll make sure it won't Meanxgreen: That's it... I'm gonna get a whale shark B l u r r: A /what/ ? Why? B l u r r: / glances at Ratchet / Aww, thanks, Ratchet. Meanxgreen: I JUST WILL B l u r r: Okay okay, don't yell. Bevel: *gets up without a word and leaves* B l u r r: / vents and just peers over at Star / Wing: *vents quietly and stretches wings* Star: (-gasps- Black Flag songs? :D ) B l u r r: / watching him and Drift closely, along with Wing, but he trusts Wing to keep things settled / B l u r r: [[yeh! ]] ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i love that game so much)) Star: (oh Gosh one of my faves is the drunk sailor one and....gah I can't think of the other ones name) Bevel: [[such a great game Wing: *quietly watching Star, Drift, Blurr... the whole place. how about that?* Meanxgreen: O(( question but what now xD)) B l u r r: [[ we RP  thiiings ]] Wing: ((moosik)) ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i like running down to cuba because of the nine feet tall sister bit)) B l u r r: [[ moosik! ]] B l u r r: / vents and tightens flexi band over his faceplate / B l u r r: ... / Pats Roadbuster's shoulder / Meanxgreen: *Gently paps blurr's cheek plate* That looks like it really hurts Bevel: [[or talk ooc since my character isn't here anymore B l u r r: It did at the time... /shifts a little / Wing: ((hey does Star have a tumblr? I wanna harass!)) Star: (Fish in the Sea! Thats the one. yeah thats my fave lol) Starscream: ((...whoops i disappeared for the latter half of the movie Starscream: ((IT WAS ENJOYABLE THO Bevel: [[this is making me want to find and listen to all the little songs from inquisition Star: -looks over at Drift who seems to still be standing there- B l u r r: Luckily  there's no optic to be burned out... /taps flexi band / ItsyBitsySpyers: ((other favorites: the ram and the dead horse ones)) B l u r r: Well, burnt out a /second/ time. Star: (This Star does have a tumblr) Drift: ((I can't stay up super late to RP after movies rn, and the movie's over, so.)) Drift: ((*waves farewell*)) B l u r r: [[ ah bye bye! ]] Bevel: [[night! Star: (Cya~) Drift: ((shoulda just had Drift stay with Blurr and talk to Roadie lmao)) B l u r r: [[ lol ]] B l u r r: [[ i dunno why u didnt come back i was like why u just standin there man ]] Drift: ((because I thought i was gonna get an interaction.)) Wing: ((they were both stunned by each other's beauty)) B l u r r: [ omfg. ]] Wing: ((it was a magical school girl anime moment)) Star: (lmao) Star: (im sorry Drift) Star: https://crystal-city-genius.tumblr.com/  ---Wing Wing: ((thank. I will lick this later)) Star: (sdfg)

[cybertronianlovenest]

The bitch named Karma: Section 7

My vents worked hard trying to cool my frame as I rocked into Soundwave. His valve was packed full of my fluid and it gushed out with each thrust. It'd taken about a groon to finally put him down and I knew if I stayed much longer Jazz was going to come looking. A keen escaped and my back arched inward as I overloaded for the 17th time. I was in no shape to be doing rounds in the training room now, lucky I was sure Jazz wouldn't mind. He'd be just as happy to snuggle while I caught a groon of recharge. The door opened suddenly and I looked back to see Megatron standing there with my thought holder at his side. "Apologies. Soundwave didn't mean to detain Prowl from training so long... He's Jazz's once more." My spike popped free letting lose a flood of transfluid that hadn't been absorbed as I staggered from the bed. "What were ya guys doing? What is that?" Jazz touched my spike before I retracted it. "That, you will learn about soon enough... I hope you don't mind putting your training on hold for a groon or so while I rest up?" He glanced at me, but his main interest lined in checking out his sparker's interface units. "What is this?" Megatron crossed his arms, giving me a light glare as Jazz poked Soundwave's valve, who had just slipped offline. "Don't look at me like that. You're the one that came in without knocking. He has to learn sometime." He snorted and walked away. "Its a valve. The other part is called a spike. Everyone has them Jazz. Your's are still sealed since your coding is not online yet." He blinked at me before rubbing over his spike panel. "How do ah turn the coding on?" My hand caught his and I picked him up, setting him in my arms. "You don't. When you're old enough they will come online by themselves." He frowned, looking at Soundwave. "But ah want them on now." I sighed making him look at me. "No. You will leave them offline until they activate themselves. Your frame is not ready to handle the demands interfacing puts on it. When those codes come online you're going to want to interface very badly, everything will set you off. If they're on now, no one will be able to help you. If they tried I'd rip their spark out my self. It would do a great deal of damage to your insides if anyone tried to interface with you this young." Jazz looked down for a second, seemingly thoughtful before his optics caught mine once more. "Prowl...? When they do come online... Will you interface with me?" I smiled and kissed his helm. "Yes Jazz. You've still got some waiting to do before that though. Come, your sparker has the right idea." He laughed and hugged my neck tightly as I carried him to the room we shared with Starchime.... Soundwave POV: My optics darted around the lake. I knew they were there, they'd left too obivous a trail to be on ancient. Something pressed to the back of my helm suddenly and a chuckle reached my audios. "Pretty dumb leaving your back open Soundwave. Get on your knees and open your panel." I lowered slowly but it must not have been fast enough because I was shoved down, making me huff. Sideswipe stepped from the trees smirking as the mech behind me forcefully pushed me onto my hands and knees. He chuckled lowly, one hand tracing over my valve cover as the other aimed a canon at my helm. The heat from it was enough to blister my paint job as his twin grabbed my helm, jerking it level with his spike. My optics locked on his but a sudden yelp made me turn in time to see the yellow twin go flying. Sunstreaker tumbled helm over peds into the lake as I jerked overly bright optics around to see Prowl who had apparently kicked him. "Get up! If you're lucky I won't let Megatron decide your punishment!" Sideswipe gulped, looking between us as I got to my peds. "What are you doing here?! What's he doing here?!" Prowl snarled, walking towards the lake until I caught him. "Prowl misunderstands. Soundwave called them." "I done care if you called them! That does not make this right!" "No. Soundwave is a submissive. The twins are only satisfying my kinks." For a second he just looked at me before his mouth fell open slightly on a 'O' "Well... I am sorry for kicking you into the lake Sunstreaker." He growled as he stepped over, sopping wet with mud covering his normally emaculant paint job. I couldn't help the smirk that curled my lips as I scooped up a fist full of grass and lobbed it at his chest. His optics got so bright as he looked to me. Behind me, Sideswipe was cracking up laughing so hard he was nearly in tears. "You're going to pay for that." A shuddered of excitement ran down my struts. "Soundwave hopes so." His engine growled loudly and I took off through the woods. They would catch me before long but I was sure Jazz had drug Prowl out here to go swimming. I wouldn't want to Interrupt that... Prowl POV: I smiled, watching Jazz bounce around the training room after he'd managed to take me from my peds for the third time in as many breems. He was better than I would have given him credit for after only being taught for 5 vorns. "Come on Prowl! Ya promised!" He hopped into my lap as Starscream stepped into the room. "Yes, yes. I think you've been holding back in training just so you could fool me into making this bet." He smirked wide. "Now Prowler...! What would ever give ya that idea?" "What indeed. You are far too clever for your own good my little Spook." He beamed a huge smile at me. "Come on. Open up, ya promised." I sighed before triggering both panels open, giving him access to my frame. "No! He is to young to be!-" "Weld it Screamer. Already got this lecture from Prowler. Ah don't need it again. He already told meh he won't let meh turn meh codes on mehself. He only left do this because ah tricked him into thinking ah couldn't take him from his peds 3 times in one training session." Jazz waved him off as warm fingers curled around my spike making me hiss. He looked worried for a second before I smiled. "Its OK, feels good." A nod was my only answer as he pushed me up some to stroke over my valve. It clenched down trying to catch his fingers and he chuckled lightly as one slipped into me. I drew in a vent as he held my optics, working it deeper into me. "Yer making a mess. That normal?" My helm bobbed as I ground down on his hand trying to get him deeper. "Yes... Please..." Another finger slipped into me and I had to use his shoulder to steady myself so I didn't fall. "Ya really like this don't ya?" I keened softly as he found a node to play with. If he'd kept it I was going to overload far quicker than intended. That was chalked up to Jazz being, well, Jazz. He's always turned me on and there wasn't a hot spot on my frame he hadn't worked to the fullest to drive me to the brink of insanity. His lips curled suddenly before the invading fingers pinched the node. Rolling it between them. That was it, my vocaliser spit static and I lost my charge, splattering it over Jazz's legs and peds. My vents whirled loudly as I cycled through fresh cool air. "Ya make really pretty faces like that, Prowl. Can't wait till ah don't have to trick ya just to see them. Ah thought It'd take longer than that." He was disappointed, I knew but I couldn't help it. "Normal I would have. You're just far too good at finding my hot spots. Soon your coding will be online and we'll have all the time in the world for you to play around." He huffed, crossing his arms. "Can't ah play a lil longer? It's only been a breem!" My lips pulled to the side as I gave him a look. "I'll make a deal with you. If you go do your studies with Starscream without any sass, OR trying to get away. I'll give you one groon to do anything you like. Outside of what we already set as non-negotiable." His optics got so bright as he grinned as wide as I'd ever seen. "Really?! A whole groon?!" "One groon. After studies, you need to make your way to the wash racks to get cleaned up. You'll not be happy if that dries in your plating." He nodded rapidly and ran off leaving me with the seeker. "I don't care.-" "Give it a rest Kotex. Do you really think I would push that pain on him? I know very well the damage interfacing too early could do. I would offline before I let anyone including myself push that on him. He's the one that brought up the issue of wanting to explore my frame, and it's not a bad thing for him to know. It'll give him an idea of how to work his own frame, his likes and dislikes, when his protocols come online. Besides, you should be happy you'll get one day he doesn't fight denta and claw over doing his studies." I smirked as the seeker gave me a look. "Fine. Just remember that." I nodded though a voice at the door caught my attention. "So that's why my mechling just ran down the hall covered in transfluid and grinning like he's just escaped from an asylum." My optics flickered behind me to see Megatron standing there with Starchime in his arms babbling away about something or other. "Yes Sir." He laughed. "Sir? I guess I count that a step in the right direction. I wanted to tell you that we're receiving several new mechs this cycle. Barricade is going to be staying with you when you're wandering to ensure no one a takes a notion to be cute. They've already been warned over com, I'll scare them as much as possible when they arrive but this group is a rather nasty one." I inclined my helm. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll be sure to keep my optics open." Barricade stepped into the room as he left. "Where do you think the best place to go during their arrival would be, Barricade?" He grunted before turning around and walking away leaving me to follow.... Jazz POV: I couldn't stop the goofy grin that spread over my face I rushed over to Prowl who was talking to a mech I'd never met before. He shoved me back and my mouth fell open as I looked at him. "Prowl?..." I tried to grab his hand but he growled. "Get back Jazz. Now!" My spark felt tight and it hurt that he would push me away. The other meh swung at him suddenly as Barricade yelled at him. Prowl ducked it though and cracked him a good one before the new mech managed to dig his claws into a door making Prowl yell. He slammed the other mech into a wall and cracked him in the mouth so hard he slipped offline before he fell to one knee panting. "Prowl!" I latched onto him and this time he pulled me closer, easing the ache in my spark. "I'm sorry I pushed you Jazz. I didn't want you getting caught in the cross fire..." He really sounded like he was in pain and I whipped around to Barricade who knocking another mech around. His optics came to us before he helped Prowl to his peds. "Anything wrong but your door?" Prowl shook his helm, lifting me higher. "No. Hurts like pit but it surely won't offline me. I will be greatful to get my pain receptors offlined though." "I'm sure. Soundwave will take care of that." My carrier came running down the hall suddenly, looking as slagged off as I'd ever seen him. "Who did this?!" He picked Prowl up as Barricade pointed down the hall to the mech Prowl had knocked out cold. A snarl worked its way as he lifted us higher. "Put him a cell! I'll deal with him later! Now I have to explain to my brother how his mech ended up injured on my watch! You were put in charge of watching him!" "Could you please yell at him later?! My door is shredded and I'd like to get it fixed!" Carrier growled but looked back to us as he hurried down the hall to the medbay.... Prowl POV: I sighed as Soundwave took my pain receptors offline finally. "This may take a while to fix. The damage is quite substantial and Soundwave is not sure we have the materials to fix it." Megatron snarled. "You may soon have a whole frame to pick apart!" He jerked his optics to the other mech who was now strapped down to a bed. He'd looked quite scared now and I sighed. "It's a confusing time for everyone, try to have paitience with them. Jumping ahead of yourself will only cause more trouble in the long run. Optimus still has my fallen friends frame in the medbay after all. I'm sure Ratchet could intergrate it into my systems." I gave him a look and he lost the angry sneer. "Every time I think I understand you, you throw me off." My shoulders rolled. "I don't like to be so easy to read." The monitor went off suddenly and I looked at him. "Expecting a call?" He groaned. "Unfortunately. That is my brother, I left him a message that you were in the medbay. I'm sure he's thrilled." He punched the button and Optimus's face popped up looking none too happy. "I expect you back here by the end of the cycle Prowl." I grunted. "Its not that bad." "This time. What about next time? When I allowed you to go there It was with the assurance that you would not be harmed in any way. It is clear my brother can not keep his mechs in line." Megatron snarled and I glared. "Honestly Sir. I've stayed here a little over 5 vorns without so much as a scuffle. There was a new group of mechs here and they haven't had time to settle. The mech that attacked me took more damage than I did, and to top it off I was appointed a guard. It was just a bad day. Don't worry so much." His optics narrowed. "Now Prowl. That's an order." Then he hung up before I could say anything else. "Great." Jazz looked near tears as he whirled in distress. "Ya can't leave meh! Ya promised! Please!" His fingers dug into my arms like he expected me to bolt any second. "I'm sorry Jazz-" "No! Ah'll do anything Prowl! Ah'll never complain about meh studies! Ah won't try to trick ya with bets again! Ah'll ah'll!- Do what ever ya want forever if ya just stay with meh!! Please!" Tears ran in rivers down Jazz's face, much faster than I could clear away. It twisted my spark into knots to know I was hurting him so much and a few tears of my own got out. "Take him with you." My optics jerked around to look at Megatron who had his back to us. "Are you sure?" His frame told me no, the way he didn't so much as flinch. "He needs you Prowl. I've seen what trying to keep him from you does. Take him..." I swallowed and stood from the table holding Jazz out to him so he could hold him. "I will do what ever I can to get him to change his mind." He clenched his denta as I set Jazz in his arms. "Soundwave. I'd like you to make something for me."....