"No."
"Aw, c'mon, Sunny. Don't be like that. Just a quick frag. You're gorgeous."
A hand slid around golden plating to cup his aft and Sunstreaker tensed even more than he already was. "Remove your hand," he ground out through clenched teeth. If he got into a fight, he'd wind up back in Prowl's office for the second time that day, and wind up being blamed for instigating again.
The hand on his aft didn't move. The mech's other hand slithered across shiny chest plating around to his back and pulled him closer. "Really, you're missing out."
"I'm. Not. Interested."
"Of course you're not." The mech's tone abruptly turned scathing. "You're not interested in anyone but yourself. Stars, would it hurt you to berth one mech? You should be happy with the attention. Primus knows your personality isn't going to attract anyone."
"Let me go." He pushed at the mech, but they were of a size and his leverage wasn't as good as it could be. It was getting harder to rein in his temper. And his jaw was beginning to hurt.
The other mech ground against him. "I think you really need a good frag. I've half a mind to give it to you right here."
Sunstreaker jammed his fingers up into the underside of the shoulder joint, trying to hook a wire bundle to yank it free. His other hand twisted the mech's forearm around and he spun out of his grasp. Other mechs began reacting at his assailant's pained cry, and he turned to flee only to run smack into someone else.
Hard, ice-blue optics bored into his own from under a red chevron, and the only thing he could think to say was "Fuck."