Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara, and are licensed to IDW and Dreamworks. My original characters are my own and any similarity between them and any existing characters from canon or fandom is purely coincidental. I claim no ownership by writing this work.
Warning: Slash in the background.
The music pounded, and the baseline thrummed through his body sending incredible thrills through every system. He'd lost count of how many drinks he'd had about an hour ago, but it didn't matter. It was a party and he would be damned if he was going into the New Year sober. All around him mechs and femmes danced and moved and drank and laughed and sang.
Everyone else was having a good time, but he found himself becoming angrier and angrier as he glared at the couples on the dance floor. Ratchet was trying to drag Prowl out on the floor, and of course, the stoic tactician was refusing. It looked like Ratchet would loose this particular battle until Jazz and Wheeljack got involved. On the other side of the room Sideswipe was in deep conversation with that new femme from Cybertron. Sunstreaker thought her name was Arcee or something like that. He didn't see what his brother saw in her. That pink paint was sickening enough without her bubblegum personality.
Sunstreaker moved further from the door as Cosmos and Hubcap wobbled towards him.
"I think I'm a little overcharged," Cosmos slurred.
"I don't see why," Hubcap said. "You only had one glass."
"Yeah, but you kept filling it!" Cosmos protested. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to get me drunk." He lurched unsteadily and was quickly righted by Hubcap.
"Who, me?" Hubcap asked innocently as they exited the lounge.
Sunstreaker shook his head and finished his drink as the seconds made their final turn around the clock face. Everyone began counting down to the New Year, and Sunstreaker, completely fed up with the whole thing, moved to leave the club. Just as he reached the door, the clock struck midnight and strong hands spun him a round. His mouth was crushed in a passionate kiss and the world seemed to spin out of control.
٭٭٭
Sunstreaker clawed his way back to consciousness. His head pounded, his body ached, and he felt as if someone had deposited something rather unpleasant into his mouth. He had not felt this bad since … well since the last time he went on a bender.
"Why don't I ever learn?" he thought to himself.
He opened his optics and was assaulted by the overly bright lights of his room. He groaned and rolled to his side, then instantly regretted the movement. He felt the room begin to spin around in a slow, off-balanced tilt, and his tanks lurched violently. He rested his head against the cool floor plating, and waited for his equilibrium to return.
After a moment, he tried to open his optics again. This time, things seemed to stay where they were supposed to, and he found the strength to sit up and look around.
"What in the Pit happened?" he said to himself, his voice sounding hoarse and dry as if it hadn't been used for a long time. Or as if he had spent the night screaming.
When he was sure he wasn't going to purge his tanks, he slowly stood up, gingerly made his way to the mirror, and was shocked by his appearance. His normally pristine finish was scuffed, dinged, scratched. And worst of all, a large scrape of pink ran from his left hip to his right shoulder like a sash.
"What. The. Slag," he whispered.
He was staring at his reflection in shock when the door opened and Sideswipe came stumbling in, a grin plastered on his face and covered with spiral ribbon and streamers.
"Hey, bro! Am I allowed back yet?" Sideswipe asked. "Ooh! Nice look! Pink suits you," he added with a laugh.
"What?!" Sunny asked, get more irritated with every passing moment.
"Can I come back in?" his brother asked slowly, smile widening. "You couldn't get me out of here fast enough last night. I just wanted to make sure it was safe," he added dropping onto the recharge berth.
"Excuse me?"
"Did you damage your audios?" Sides asked. "You might want to get Ratchet to check that out once he comes to … of course, that might be a while. He, Prowl, Jazz, and 'Jack got into my personal brew … Ah well, maybe all that tension will finally end."
Sideswipe rolled over onto his side and shuttered his optics.
"What the slag are you talking about?" Sunstreaker demanded.
"You know. I mean you could cut that tension with a knife … Primus! You'd think they be adult enough to just deal with it, but no! They have to act like there's nothing wrong and everything's hunky dory."
"That's not what I meant!" Sunstreaker yelled, and quickly cradled his head in his hands. "We were talking about me!" he added when his head stopped threatening to split open.
"You obviously partied a little too hard last night," Sideswipe shrugged.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at his brother and took an unsteady step forward.
"Hey bro," Sideswipe protested, raising his hands, "it's not my fault you drank my brew ..."
"I did not drink that slop you call high grade!"
"It's not slop and you did drink it," Sides said, wagging a finger at his brother. "Unless, of course, there's another yellow Lamborghini running around that I don't know about. … And if you don't believe me, I'm sure that Red Alert will have no problem showing you the tapes," he chuckled.
"Okay, fine, so I may have drunk a bit of your stash. But who in the Pit did I end up with last night?" Sunny asked.
"I may be your brother, but that doesn't make me your keeper," Sideswipe said with a chuckle.
"I don't remember anything ...," Sunstreaker groaned sitting down on the edge of his berth. "Tell me I didn't ... not with Arcee..."
"Arcee? Nah, last I saw she was heading out with Hot Rod and Springer. ... I don't know who you ended up with."
"But you said you tried to come home last night."
"I did, but I didn't even get the door open before you yelled at me to get out. ... but you know," Sideswipe added, "the only other pink bot on base right now is Elita." Sideswipe's laugh quickly turned into painful hiccoughs.
Sunstreaker buried his head in his hands.
