Don't own The Transformers.

Ugly

"Ass."

"Stop that."

"What the fuck are you even fucking talking about? Ass."

"Stop."

Sunstreaker grinned, leaning in closer. "You're not being very specific, Tracks. How the hell am I supposed to know what you're talking about when you're not being very specific?" He huffed, making sure that his mouth was close enough to Tracks' audial so that he'd feel the warm air.

The blue mech flinched and Sunstreaker resisted the urge to laugh. He had been close enough then.

"You know good and well what I mean when I say stop," Tracks snapped. He turned, giving the other mech an angry look. "You know I don't like cursing. It's…ugly."

"How? They're just words." Sunstreaker rolled his shoulders, leaning back and away again. They had been sitting in the same position for the last three hours. The Decepticons probably weren't going to show up. "You wanna know what's really ugly?"

Tracks sighed, placing his chin in his hand. "I don't want to know what you think is ugly."

"No, no. This is for your benefit, so you've gotta hear it."

Curious (or confused), Tracks turned, his mouth set in a straight, thin line. "Enlighten me then. What's really ugly?"

"Your red face with that shade of blue."

Tracks just stared. Sunstreaker snorted, making to stand.

"The 'Cons aren't coming. We better go."

"How can you be so sure?" Tracks sat up, but didn't stand. "We should at least search the area."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. How he wished Blaster wasn't off with Cosmos – the music-loving idiot was Tracks' usual partner. Sunstreaker wasn't Blaster. Why had Prowl paired him up with Tracks? Sunstreaker couldn't stand the guy. He was too prissy. "I'm pretty fucking sure. We've been here for a while."

"Could you just stop cursing?" Tracks stood, getting in Sunstreaker's face. He was clearly angry, but Sunstreaker couldn't have cared less.

"Could you get out of my face?" Sunstreaker shoved Tracks away, hard. No one got in his face like that. Not even Sideswipe.

Tracks fell on his backside, hard.

A few moments later, Sunstreaker found himself the focus of all of Tracks' anger. He yelled out when one of his head fins were grabbed roughly and squeezed hard enough to leave dents. Those were sensitive! He punched Tracks in the face, but the other mech didn't even step back, he only tightened his grip.

"Get off, you fucking – "

A hand clamped over his mouth, hard, and he yelled again.

Tracks stopped moving, only shoving Sunstreaker when he began to fight against the blue mech. "Now that I have your undivided attention, let me make something clear."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, making sure to make a show of it to piss Tracks off. It didn't seem to work, and Tracks continued.

"Your childish antics are not bothering me nearly as much as you think they are."

Sunstreaker smirked, and before Tracks could interpret what that meant, licked the other mech's hand. He laughed when Tracks yelped and pulled his hand back.

Tracks stared at the other mech, his optics narrowed. Sunstreaker was still smirking, and even cocked his hip as he placed a hand on it. This idiot was playing with the wrong mech if he thought he could tell Sunstreaker what to do.

"That seemed to bother you."

Tracks threw his hands up. "I am done. This is ridiculous. Fine. We can leave."

Sunstreaker shrugged past Tracks. "Fuckin' alright with me."

"Stop fucking cursing – "

Sunstreaker turned to look at Tracks. He just stared.

Tracks looked completely horrified before transforming and driving off.

Sunstreaker just laughed.