Author's Note: This was written for Eerian Sadow on LJ for her birthday.
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Nervous Habit
Bluestreak was a talker. The entire Autobot ranks - and probably even the Decepticon ranks as well - knew it. What started out as a childish, nervous habit turned into... well, a regular habit. Bluestreak was perfectly aware of when he'd babble on and knew it was considered irritating to a great number of his comrades, but a part of him just couldn't stop himself. Though, it was a comfort to know that he certainly wasn't at the same level as Blurr. Bluestreak could ramble, but he wasn't that far gone.
Well, that was unless he actually became nervous - and that had started happening more than often lately.
Bluestreak wasn't sure how it started, but he had begun to notice that he was gradually becoming the object of a certain Lamborghini's attention. He didn't think much of it at first. There wasn't much else but a passing glance between them when they were paired together on a mission, or happened to be in the same room. Though, that slowly began to change. Bluestreak would catch Sunstreaker looking at him for lengthy periods of time, his gaze not diverting even when he knew Bluestreak had noticed it. If anything, that seemed to only encourage the Lamborghini to continue staring, smirking in a manner that Bluestreak wasn't sure held particularly good intentions.
It went on like that, and Bluestreak found himself growing incredibly jumpy. The gunner had to wonder if Sunstreaker was doing this just for the cruel amusement of watching him squirm. It just didn't make sense. Bluestreak could find no other explanation, and it only got worse. He'd be too focused on knowing that Sunstreaker was observing him to even notice when someone was speaking with him. And that soon became his downfall.
"And your patrol will be with Sunstreaker tonight then, Bluestreak."
Prowl may have just as well opened gunfire on him, for Bluestreak's reaction suited that sort of an assault. He jumped, shook and spluttered incoherently, darting his head from side to side as if looking for an excuse to present itself.
"Bluestreak," Prowl cut in quickly. "Is there an issue?"
The gunner shifted awkwardly, calming himself. "No..."
"Then you're with Sunstreaker," said Prowl firmly. "Take care."
Having no means to protest, Bluestreak was forced to comply. They had walked in silence for what felt like vorns. While Sunstreaker seemed carefree, every inch of Bluestreak's frame was tensed and his optics shifted about nervously, looking for anything but the Lamborghini to focus on.
"You'll rust like that if you stay that way, you know," drawled Sunstreaker.
Bluestreak froze, instantly feeling dread - though, that did the opposite of help and caused him to tense even further. "R-really?" His vocalizer sounded like a squeak.
Sunstreaker heaved a sigh and gave him a look. "No, obviously. It's an expression. Don't you know it?" Though his tone was annoyed, there was a trace of a smirk lingering around his lips.
"O-oh, right." Bluestreak tried a laugh, but it was shaky and frail sounding. Feeling embarrassed, he quieted the noise quickly - but then there was the silence again. The void. It felt so unnatural. Bluestreak had to open his mouth again. "See, it's hard with things like that. I mean, they're expressions, but they sound so literal so it's hard not to take them, well... literally!"
Then he was off. His vocalizer was up and running and he couldn't stop it. What made it worse was that he was nervous. Sunstreaker made him nervous. No matter how he tried to talk and distract himself, it wouldn't stop the way Sunstreaker kept glancing in his direction. It wouldn't wipe the smirk hiding on Sunstreaker's lips that seemed so cocky for reasons Bluestreak couldn't name. Bluestreak talked about everything and nothing, gaining in speed and dropping in steadiness.
Faster than Bluestreak could register, Sunstreaker moved in front of him and placed his fingertips over Bluestreak's lips. Bluestreak silenced himself so quickly, he may have bitten down on his own glossa - but he was too shocked to tell.
"You talk too much sometimes," said Sunstreaker, his voice dropping to a lower key that certainly didn't make his words sound quite like disapproval.
Sunstreaker let his fingers move away to rest on the Datsun's neck, causing Bluestreak to shiver. Bluestreak grinned nervously, fidgeting and flighty. "I know I talk too much. I'm always told I do. It's obvious, really. People think I don't know, but I do. In fact, just the other day-"
His words were stolen by lips pressing firmly against his own. Bluestreak made a sound of surprise, and Sunstreaker seized the opportunity to slip his glossa past the parted lips and indulge in a deeper kiss.
Shaking and taken completely off his guard, Bluestreak could manage little but clutching at the Lamborghini's shoulders and attempting to return the kiss with the gracelessness of an amateur. Sunstreaker didn't seem to mind though, and released Bluestreak's lips to murmur quietly against them.
"What I'd give to hear you talk on and on about me like that..."
Bluestreak's engines revved loudly, intakes heaving as he shyly hid his face against the Lamborghini's neck.
"I'd love to," he mumbled nervously. "But right now, I really can't think of anything to say."
Sunstreaker laughed at that, wrapping his arms around Bluestreak and purring intimately against his audio. "You'll find I have that effect a lot."
