This is it, lovies. My first in a long, hopefully, series of crackfictions.

Some may be silly oneshots, like the following, others may have longer storylines.

All will be made of crack. Hopefully, you'll like what you read.

Reader ideas are welcomed and encouraged!

Reviews are nice to read~

Universe: G1

Summary: After having smuggled in some high grade, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe decide to learn more about each other with the ancient human sport Truth or Dare.

Rating: K+ for Cybertronian cursing and slight mentionings of robot lovers who happen to use masculine pronouns.

Warnings: Crackfiction ahead.

Bêtise

Irrational Fear

"I'm sorry. You're afraid of what?"

"Chickens. Completely terrified."

Sideswipe gazed at his yellow twin, a look of utter confusion painting his face plates. If one could look inside his head, they would see a small rodent running frantically on a wheel, screaming for logic. Instead, the red Lamborghini shook his head. "Why," it was all he could say, so he began to repeat it, hoping to trigger more words from his vocals. "Why, why, why, why," after repeating it a few more times, Sideswipe gave up. "Why, why?"

"You said no questions." Sunstreaker stared, glassy-opticked, at his brother, picking up a quarter-filled cube of pink liquid. By smell alone, it could be identified as high-grade. He downed the liquid and dropped the empty cube, where it joined it's other three empty brothers, onto the floor. Sunstreaker's vents hitched, and he laughed.

"Yes, but chickens? Sunny, they're only beaten by bugs and worms on the 'Lowest Creatures on the Food Chain' list." Sideswipe said, finally bringing his own high-grade to his lip components.

Smuggling the inebriating liquid had been the hard part (neither twin wanted to explain why they had shuffled into the Ark with such pained expressions, and no one on the Ark decided they really wanted to know), now the twins sat, drinking and laughing, playing Truth or Dare with each other. With Prowl in med-bay after a recent processor crash (details were not made public, but the rumor was it had something to do with Jazz, an ostrich feather and whipped cream, so no further questions were asked) and Red Alert in recharge, the twins felt relaxed to sit in the recreation room at midnight. The only bot the brothers had to worry about would be Optimus (and Ironhide, but neither really made habits of visiting the recreation room after ten).

"Just what, exactly, are you afraid a chicken is going to do? Defecate on your foot?" Sideswipe asked, after taking a long swig of high-grade, and laughed. Sunstreaker glared.

"Issnot funny, Sides!" he shot, reaching for another cube. "I don't know why, I just can't stand them. They freak me out." Sideswipe laughed more, and Sunstreaker threw the cube at his red counterpart. The pink liquid tipped and splattered onto his brother and made a sizable puddle on the floor. It was Sideswipe's turn to glare.

"Hey! It was hard to smuggle this in!" He barked, "Don't go wasting it!"

Sunstreaker groaned, resting his head on the table. His servos came up and rested on the back of his helm, digits interlacing. "Slaggit," He finally looked up at his brother. "So, what about you?"

Sideswipe stared at his brother before taking another gulp. "That orange stuff left behind on the human's fingers after they eat, slag, what's it called? Cheesy-toes?"

Sunstreaker sputtered, the high-grade he had grabbed and took a drink from spraying onto his brother. Sideswipe wiped the liquid from his faceplate. "Wonderful," he muttered.

"Primus!" Sunstreaker laughed, slamming in curled servo onto the table. Sideswipe glared.

"What? It's always caked on and it looks abnormal!"

"In case you haven't noticed, you look a bit 'abnormal' to the humans." Sunstreaker pointed out. Sideswipe huffed, finishing his cube.

"That's beside the point. Their fingers look so," his head tilted to one side as his processor rattled for the right word, "foreign. I mean normal human fingers that end with giant orange bumps at the tips? You just try and tell me that's not the beginnings of a monster!" Sunstreaker kept his glassy optics on his brother, a look of pure concentration on his face.

"So, you're afraid of monsters?"

"No!" Sideswipe snapped, annoyed. Sunstreaker began to giggle; he rested his head in his servo and continued to look at his brother, a smile stretched wide across his lip plates. "Sunstreaker, stop that." Sideswipe growled.

"You're afraid of monsters."

"I am not!"

"Totally are."

"Shaddup you slagger!" Sunstreaker laughed, and Sideswipe pushed his yellow twin's elbow off the table, causing Sunstreaker to slam his chin into the table. The remaining cubes of high-grade splashed, causing some liquid to splatter onto the table. Sideswipe laughed as Sunstreaker glared up at him.

"Oh, you slaggin'," Sunstreaker lunged forward, grappling his brother and causing the two of them to fall to the ground.

Fist flew, punches landed, and in the end neither wanted to explain to Ratchet why they were found passed out in the recreation room battered and dented, Sunstreaker lying on top of his brother, and high grade spilled everywhere.