Knock Out frowned internally. He should have been used to the Decepticon SIC's tendency to party-poop by now. If Breakdown hadn't been preoccupied with his mission, they would have been out here together. He would've gladly used his hammer and fill the road ahead with large pieces of limestone and conglomerates. They were merely obstacles. He'd seen humans surviving fatal crashes. If the racers couldn't make it, then so be it.
It was the big brute's idea in the first place to drag Starscream along to one of Knock Out's races. It started off as a joke, as a means to cheer his partner up after Knock Out was left with a deep scratch on his finish as punishment for his repeated defiance. Clearly he hadn't found the SIC to be a tad threatening. He liked flirting with the Seeker's patience and had relished every moment they'd spent scheming together.
Since Starscream couldn't comprehend his idea of fun, he wouldn't push it. He was much too involved in the race to care about impressing the SIC anyhow. Granted, it would be a waste to watch these exotics burn if they were to lose control and crash into the rocks. But they should be flattered over the fact that a Cybertronian racer had found them worthy of competition.
If only they knew.
Knock Out sped past the tundra of reddish earth, shaped by time and climate into a seemingly endless, scenic landscape. Its rock formations bore reminiscence of a colony world he once had the privilege of visiting eons ago.
Just like a flier who couldn't stand the thought of staying grounded for too long, Knock Out's desire to feel his wheels burning up against the asphalt and the thrill that came with it must always be satiated regardless. This was his escape. His only freedom. The war could wage on for the next several millennia for all he cared. As long as these roads remained open to him, his sanity was here to stay.
He had lost sight of the Ferrari as he was kilometres away from it now. The racer had probably given up and thought it wouldn't be worth continuing in a race he was losing. So the Lamborghini Gallardo darted forth to catch up with its Cybertronian opponent.
Knock Out was more than pleased. He kept on equal speed with the exotic to ogle at it.
"Mmm. Just me, the open highway, and Black Beauty on my side. Bold and classy. Streamlined alloy. Flowing. Sensual. You are lust on whe-WHAT THE-"
He hadn't noticed Starscream as he had been too busy admiring the Gallardo. At the sight of the low-flying jet ahead of them, both cars started screeching and swerving. Knock Out found himself caught beneath the afterburners while the other managed to escape, speeding across the highway and out of sight.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Knock Out raved at the jet. His wheels screeched long and hard against the asphalt, smoke and dust clouding up his vision. Pieces of debris showered his windshield as the Seeker flew off. "STARSCREAM!"
The silver Seeker cackled loudly, his flight paths suffering for it. He lost altitude fast, and his thrusters only kicked on occasionally in his post-action ecstasy. Now he understood why his purple trinemate took such pleasure in playing tricks on their Decepticon comrades. Although the thought of Skywarp, out of appreciation or otherwise, usually sent him into deep bouts of depression, for now he was too amused by Knock Out's predicament to become a despondent mess.
He engaged his hovering protocols as he neared the ground, mostly so he could fly in a lazy circle around Knock Out, the Fighting Falcon floating sideways so that his cockpit was facing the red medic. "I'm sorry, did you say my name?" he managed between fits of roaring laughter.
Knock Out was...horrified. This was certainly going to take more than just buffing. He would have to recondition and repaint his entire chassis! He stood there for a moment, speechless, with his expression growing more disgruntled at the highly-amused Seeker.
Abruptly, Starscream stopped giggling like a maniac and checked his sensors for any organic life-forms. Detecting none, he reverted to his bipedal mode once more before he stared down at the medic's scorched form, amusement still tainting his features as he continued, "I truly did not expect to catch you in my little performance; I thought you valued your finish enough to stay out of the way..."
Starscream did not understand this aspect of Knock Out, not to the greatest extent. He understood wanting to appear in control and in fine condition before the troops, but he didn't let a few scars here, a slight dent in his plating there bother him. The Seeker saw some of these roughly-healed injuries as confessions of his skill in battle. So why not show them off, flash them to those who might oppose his will?
He glanced at the claws of his left servo, flicking the sharp tips so that they ran against one another in an absent manner. "Perhaps next time you won't be so distracted, dear Knock Out..." He appraised the medic's form, the joy he had felt from before enabling him to say something he wouldn't have otherwise. "I suppose I could buff that out personally, since it was my fault. Of course, it's up to you. I'm not the one with a burn mark marring my plating."
Normally, Starscream was far too paranoid and irritated from the daily going-ons of the Decepticons to feel anything else, but he did admit that this outing had made him feel much better. He wasn't thinking about how to get into Megatron's good graces, he wasn't focused on hiding every single treacherous thought from Soundwave, whether he was going to act on them or not. And, for the first time in vorns, he wasn't thinking about his missing trinemates like they had long been terminated. Perhaps there is hope yet.
If this is what getting out of the Nemesis and from under Megatron's watchful gaze did to him, he might have to do this more often.
Knock Out was rendered speechless again, optics blinking in confusion and staring at the SIC who was apparently in an unusually chirpy mood.
Funny how the tables turned. The Seeker was entertained while Knock Out was clearly not. And indeed it was Starscream's fault. Knock Out wouldn't deny that.
The medic let out a sardonic chuckle. "You're joking," he finally said. "You're willing to do that for me?"
Starscream felt a small flicker of shock register in his processor as he returned his gaze to Knock Out, optics burning questioningly. "As should be blatantly obvious by now, I do not joke." Surprisingly, he was still calm, no rage pouring through his systems, although the opposite seemed true for Knock Out.
This was as close to an apology as the medic was likely to get from the silver mech. But, if Knock Out wasn't willing to take him seriously, it was his loss.
"What do you want in return?" the medic asked.
More out of habit than true irritation, the silver Seeker let out a rattling huff. "Must I always want something in return? Really, Knock Out, I thought you knew me better by now." Unintentionally, he found his vocals purring over the other's name, although he didn't seem to notice as he glanced at the sky. Knowing the medic, he wouldn't want to be seen like this for long, although he was acting strangely. Who knew what Knock Out wanted right then?
Perhaps he could get away with another flight session, although if the red mech wanted to return by ground-bridge immediately, he supposed he could make it a quickie.
"Hmm. Fine. I'll hold you to your word." Knock Out approached closer, his optics scanning the Seeker from thrusters to helm. A suggestive smirk crept upon his porcelain-like face. "Besides, why would I ever pass up the opportunity to be buffed by one so graceful and captivating as you?" He bowed to the Seeker. "It'll be...an honor, Kommandant."
Starscream raised an optical ridge at the medic's words. Although he had expected either a rejection for a confirmation to proceed, he had not foreseen Knock Out's attempt at flirting with him. Although he should have by now. The medic was a fine mixture of pretty words and pretty frame, both lethal, at least to Starscream, in high doses.
As Knock Out drew closer, their frames momentarily in physical contact. The Seeker flinched, his body automatically responding as if the mere touch were meant to hurt him. Granted, most of his recent plating-to-plating contact involved being reduced to scrap metal by their lord and master. He had to remind himself that he was not on the Nemesis, that being away from the warship would not result in punishment. But the simplest thought of Megatron had already ruined his mood.
"So. How about another round of fun before we head back to the grind?" The racer then shifted to vehicle mode, his engine roaring in anticipation.
Disguising his unease behind practiced layers of confidence, Starscream replied, "Hmm...not the worst idea. Do you think you can keep up, or shall I have to go at a sparkling's pace?" He grinned, his words rumbling out of his chassis. "For your benefit, of course." But he did not wait for a reply; instead transforming and shooting upward once more, his contrails following the loops of his flight path.
"Hmph. Show off."
Knock Out soon turned his attention to the opposite lane. "Ahh...about time you show up. Hello again and goodbye," he said, although he knew the approaching Ferrari wouldn't be able to hear him. It honked as it sped by, unaware of the fact that the red Aston Martin DBS was an alien robot in disguise. If he had continued on flirting with Starscream, they wouldn't have had enough time to transform and stop the car from crashing into their metallic feet. The driver might survive but would probably never recover from the shock and confusion.
Before leaving, the sportscar decided to hack into the Seeker's feed again: Ah, Starscream. Just so you know in case you're already on your way back to the flagship, I'll be taking my time on the road. I find it absolutely necessary to watch the sunset while I drive. It's always been a ritual of mine. Be seeing you in the med bay in the next two joors. Ciao for now. Oh and don't forget the buffing pads.
He then turned his traction button off, shifted to second gear, increasing the brake and throttle. His chassis remained still as the back tires spun and went up in smoke, burning out in preparation for a long sweet drive into the sunset.