Beware the Knight of Spades
"Whatever is the matter, Thundercracker?"
Starscream's soft, high-pitched question interrupted the blue jet's brooding. He twitched out of the endless patrol circle he'd mired himself in and sharply pinged the white jet flying off his left wingtip. "No problems, Starscream."
"No? You're awful far from the Nemesis tonight." Starscream cut back on his throttle and descended towards the hard black crag below that just barely rose above the white surf. There were dozens of little places like this in the island chain - remote, hard places where no humans hung around.
Thundercracker followed after the white jet. "So are you."
Starscream chuckled and transformed, planting his feet on the sharp black rocks. He tilted his face up to the blue jet, red optic light spilling out and giving his metal bloody highlights. "Megatron always schedules me for patrols on nights like this. Then puts nothing else on so I can stay out as long as I want."
There was something almost warmly fond in his voice, but the flicking of his wrists to bring his arm-guns in line for a shot at the horizon made a lie of that attitude.
Thundercracker didn't answer, just tilted his wings and circled the robot-mode jet. Starscream was angry. Of course Starscream was angry. The white jet regarded Megatron's berth as his private property. Anyone else who tried to make their way into it died. From 'friendly fire accidents' mostly, but anyone who had half a functional processor knew what really happened.
Skywarp had the luck of the twice-cursed moons - most of the time, a mech couldn't say if it was good or bad, but it was always there. Friendly or enemy fire rarely hit him even when he didn't know it was coming.
On the flipside, Skywarp wouldn't need to avoid friendly fire quite as much if Megatron hadn't decided he wanted a nice loyal jet some nights.
Thundercracker transformed, metal screeching as he pushed it too fast. "What are you doing out here, Screamer?"
Starscream folded an arm across his chest, blue fingers wrapping around white gun. That just made each twitch from his flicking wrists that much more noticeable. "Why, Soundwave reported that you had left the Nemesis earlier in a condition he described as 'extremely irritated'. I thought I would see what had upset my dear wing-mech so."
The blue jet hovered over the black rock, keeping his feet level with Starscream's face. Petty, and he knew it. "Same thing that's got your guns twitching, Screamer."
Starscream's optic-light brightened. "Oh, I doubt that ever so much, Thundercracker. That little dolt of yours doesn't know a thing about breaking hearts."
Thundercracker flashed down, hovering just barely higher than Starscream and pushing himself close enough that their cockpits scraped together. "Say that again, Starscream. I dare you."
"Say what again?" The white jet purred, leaning in so that he could feel the movement of Starscream's mouth against his face. "Say that no one has ever taught Skywarp how to be a heart-breaker? That he just does it by accident, because it's so utterly easy. Anyone can do it, Thundercracker. Soundwave. Thrust. Me."
The blue jet felt sparks in his pilot-array as Starscream smiled against his cheek.
"You," Starscream whispered. "You could do it beautifully."
Thundercracker turned off his optics and tried to force down the sparkling heat in his pilot array. "Is this what you do for Megatron?" He asked hoarsely. "Whisper your little fantasies in his audials?"
Starscream's laughter fluttered against his cheek, and a hand wrapped around his right gun. It squeezed, hard enough to send alarm-spasms to his damage-control computer. Every sensor on his gun flared to life in time to feel Starscream's gliding carress up to his shoulder. "No, Thundercracker, this is what I do for Megatron."
Fountains of color flared in the blackness of Thundercracker's unlit optics.
"If you think not looking will make it easier to imagine I'm Skywarp, think again." Dextrous fingers rubbed against the attachment point, then began to work loose one of the bolts that held his arm-gun in place. It sent a shard of pleasure and fear slicing through his relays.
"No." He grabbed hold of Starscream's hand, squeezing those fine fingers until the other jet whimpered. "You're not going to disarm me, Starscream."
He couldn't see the white jet's smirk, but he could feel it against his face. "But Thundercracker," he said softly. "I already have."
The End