Well look, I should be updating HiWtHi right now, but something just doesn't feel right so sorry to say you'll have to wait for that one peeps!
But in the mean time, here's some more Blue and Jack for ya!XD
A lovely little RP/series done with Darkeyes17 who is fragging amazing! Check out her stuff people!
Disclaimer: not ours... but if they were... mmmmm ~
Feelings Clicking into Place
Wheeljack looked up as the doors to the medbay opened and Bluestreak strode in, grinning from audio to audio and carrying two cubes of energon. His helm indicators flickered blue happily as he saw the object of his affections came towards him and give him the energon.
"I'm so glad you're getting out today. I've wanted to hang out with you just talking and alone for so long, but I understand that the three weeks was needed for you to heal and all, because that has got to be one of the worst explosions I've seen you et caught in, and-"
"Blue!" Wheeljack laughed, halting the gunner's babble, "calm down. You're being nervous. Don't worry, I can't wait to spend more time with you too."
The comment made Bluestreak grin more, taking a sip of his own energon, and said, "So where's Ratchet" He'd said he'd sign you out so you'd be free."
Wheeljack's helm fins flickered brightly again and he smiled, "Either his triplets or his twin hellions. Although I'm thinking it's the triplets. Ratchet mentioned yesterday that Jumpstart was being moody and fussy lately, and that Speedlight crawls around so fast that he's in one place and then in another before any of them can pick him up. Brightspark is the easiest one to handle, apparently. She simply loves to paint and draw. She's very creative. Why, she even made that sculpture over there!" Bluestreak heard the pride in Wheeljack's voice over his niece and nephews, and looked to where the engineer was pointing.
A small slump of clay was sitting off to the side, two servos prints pressed into the surface along with many hearts pressed beside them. There was a note attatched in Sideswipe's print that read, 'Kids miss ya. They want you to get better! And hurry the frag up cause i need to get those sticky pellets again! Prowl's being an aft!'
"So she made this for you?" Bluestreak smiled.
Wheeljack's helm fins lit up and he swung his legs over the edge of the medberth. "So the story goes."
Bluestreak grinned even wider. "That's so sweet. Makes you wonder how her creators can be who they are."
"Yeah, me too," grouched a voice from the doorway.
Bluestreak and Wheeljack both turned to give Ratchet a quick grin as he came in, wiping something pink from his arm with a rag.
"Jumpstart wasn't having his energon before his nap," the medic said in a quick way of explanation, throwing the rag onto the nearest bench before going over to his oldest friend and the young Praxian. He picked up a datapad and quickly scrolled through the three weeks worth of data before signing off at the bottom. He then wordlessly gave the datapad to Wheeljack, who also signed it off. They'd been through the drill enough times before not to go through the instructions.
"All right, you're free. I don't want to see you in this medbay for the next two days at least, you hear?" Ratchet threatened, waving his wrench from side to side in emphasis.
The engineer sighed exasperatedly while Bluestreak giggled. "Yes Ratchet, I'll be a good boy and stay away from the explosives for that long," Wheeljack agreed half-heartedly.
Bluestreak giggled again. "Yeah, Ratchet. Don't worry. I'll make SURE he keeps away from the explosives!"
Wheeljack spluttered indignantly while Bluestreak and Ratchet laughed. "Hey! That's not fair! I practically livein that lab, y'know!"
"Which means your quarters are probably dusty." Ratchet quipped. "We need to work on that! And officer needs to have a good image of hygiene and cleanliness."
Wheeljack didn't miss a beat before he said, all grins and sarcasm, "Yes, Prowl!"
It took little to no effort for him to dodge the half-sparked swing of a wrench at his helm."I'm nowhere near as bad as that."
Bluestreak tilted his head in a curious manner, finding the banter between the old friends oddly... well, he was feeling a little jealous that Ratchet could converse so easily with the mech he'd loved for vorns and he was still blabber mouth every time he attempted to speak to the inventor. He wished he could have the easy familiarity these two seemed to have.
"Watch'a staring at Blue?"
Bluestreak jumped a little, startled by the sudden question. He glanced up to see Wheeljack and Ratchet staring at him with equal looks of curiosity. "Uh... well... I -" A good cover up he needed a good cover up. "I was just wondering who might be worse... Prowl or Sunstreaker."
There was a stretch of silence in which the gunner feared he had been seen through before Ratchet murmured quietly, "You know, that's a good question."
Bluestreak giggled nervously, relief filling him at the diverted attention as Wheeljack needled Ratchet about the similarities between Prowl and the volatile younger twin. After a few more minutes of chatting, Wheeljack and Bluestreak left Ratchet in his domain and left, walking amiably side by side.
Bluestreak opened his mouth to say something, but awkwardness took over. He had kissed Wheeljack once and oh Primus how the touch of the older mechs lips on his own was like heaven, but they hadn't done it since. Mostly, when he went to visit the accident prone Lancia in the medbay, they talked about daily events, how they were, how comfortable they were feeling in beginning a relationship. The most touches they had shared had been a few hugs and holding each other hands. It was sweet, but now...
The gunner twitched his wings as they traveled in silence. He really didn't know how to begin.
"Ok, what was the real reason you were staring at me and Ratch back there Blue?" Wheeljack asked abruptly, making Bluestreak jump a little, but the tone was kind.
"Umm..." Bluestreak bit his lower lip nervously.
Wheeljack looked at him, optics and helm fins twinkling merrily as he questioned, "Can't be too bad, can it? You know you can tell me anything, Blue."
Bluestreak scratched at his helm, his free servo grasping for Wheeljack's subconsciously. "It's a little embarrassing..."
Wheeljack squeezed Bluestreak's servo in reassurance. "What if I promise not to laugh?"
That got a smile from the gunner. "Well, I suppose I was feeling... just a little put out back there."
The elder mech squeezed again, urging him to continue with the unspoken, but understood question of 'Why?'
"You and Ratchet have such an, uh, - easy? - relationship. I kinda felt left behind and maybe... a little... jealous."
Wheeljack choked as he tried not laugh. After all, he had promised. He doubled over in silent gales of laughter before looking up and struggling not to laugh again. Bluestreak's pout was adorable! He gasped, taking in deep intakes as he sought for control. He didn't make a sound apart for gasping, and eventually calmed down enough to get out, "Ratchet and me have been friends for so long that it doesget like that. It's not something to really get jealous about. Yes, it's easy. But there are times when we just want to rip out each other's voice boxes. Fortunately, old Hatchet's mellowed since he met the twins and had the triplets."
Bluestreak's faceplates heated in embarrassment. Of course he shouldn't have gotten jealous; it was such a youngling like thing to do.
The mostly white mech couldn't help it and he chuckled, "Aw Blue, don't worry. Besides, you look cute when you're pouting."
That made Bluestreak's faceplates heat more and he turned to look into Wheeljack's kind, affectionate optics as a hand cupped his cheek and dropped a light kiss on his pursed lips. A warm wash of love flowed over him at the action. After all, for all of three seconds, the other mech had bared his face to the public hallways of the Ark.
"Let's go to my quarters, hmm? Go see if there's as much dust as the Hatchet thinks there is," the inventor suggested, tone light and joking. It was infectious and the grey doorwinger smiled too.
"Wow, guess I really should spend more time in here." Wheeljack murmured sheepishly, his vocal indicators flashing an embarrassed pink.
The room wasn't so much as dusty as it was bare. Over the vorns, Wheeljack had become used to just spending all his time in his lab or the rec room or in battle. So much so that he often took to recharging in the labs. He had moved a lot of his personal things there, aside from a few trinkets and what not that were in here but stuffed on the nearly bare shelves or under the berth. In fact, the only times he really remembered coming here was when he really needed some privacy.
Bluestreak stared around with wide optics. Not even Prowl before he had met Jazz used to have quarters as bare as this. If it wasn't for the fact that he knewthat these quarters were Wheeljack's, he would have mistaken it, for most part, as a spare room.
It was fairly spacious, given that Wheeljack was an officer, with a small living room with table, chairs and a comfy couch in front of a TV. A door led to the berthroom and washrack, both fairly plain and standard. Many of the items looked next to new given the scarcity they had been used. The gunner's doorwings twitched excitedly. Maybe sometimes soon he'd be coming home to these quarters, cuddling up to Wheeljack in that soft berth-
'No! Don't think that, don't get ahead of yourself, just take it one day at a time, one day at a time,') he scolded himself mentally.
Scanning his surrounding once more, he noted that the room did have a touch of Wheeljack.
On a dresser was a large lava lamp, with a note attached: 'To Study'. A poster on the wall depicted an explosion, while another on the opposite was a large picture of a galaxy. And he was sure that in the living room there had been a few potted plants.
"Well...it gives you a lot to work on," Bluestreak offered awkwardly, all the while in his mind thinking where some of his personal objects would fit in.
"I suppose." Wheeljack chuckled, cheerful as he always was. "But on the upside, I can rub it in Ratchet's faceplates that this place isn't dusty much at all!"
"I'm not sure that was the point, 'Jack." The grey Datsun admonished half-jokingly.
All that earned him was a shrug. "I get bored."
"Primus forbid you get bored!" Bluestreak groaned. "I'm not sure there would be any of the ARK left!"
He giggled when he received a playful smack on his arm along with a sullen 'Hush, you!'
There were a few moments in which Bluestreak strolled the room, mentally noting places to put things or things that needed to be cleaned up.
Meanwhile Wheeljack watched him. As in truly observed the gunner like he hadn't before.
He didn't think the younger mech knew it, but how he felt always translated through his actions. His doorwings were swaying slowly back and forth with thought, his movements chipper but slightly uncertain, as though not sure if he was stepping over boundaries. The vivid red chevron looked striking over the innocent, open faceplate with the adorable lips set in concentration.
And those doorwings.
Slightly smaller than Prowl's but no less graceful, they looked like they were begging to be touched. Wheeljack knew how sensitive doorwings were, but resisted the urge to touch. There would be time for that later on in the relationship.
His optics followed him, admiring the curve of the hood and his aft, down to thighs that were perfectly rounded.
Before his thoughts veered even more towards an M-rating, Bluestreak interrupted him with a innocent, "What are you staring at, 'Jack?"
Oh, the irony.
Hmmm... Truth or lie? Well, he'd never lied to the gunner on purpose before, so he wasn't about to start now. "Just admirin' you Blue. You have nice angles." Wow, had that really just left his vocalizer?
Bluestreak's faceplates visibly heated up and he became flustered. "Wha - but - I mean, you're so much better looking and your design is so unique 'cause, you know, you don't share it with anybot else and I share mine with Prowl and Smokescreen and I mean you're so much more interesting! Besides! You're smarter and much more graceful and, and -"
"Blue! Calm down! It's okay, mech, deep intakes!" Wheeljack rushed to calm the flustered mech. "I was just makin' and observation."
The gunner flushed again, although the embarrassment was tingled with happiness. He was really glad that Wheeljack liked the look of him. It had been one of the things he had been worried about in facing Wheeljack after blurting out his feelings a month and a half ago.
Wheeljack stepped closer, gently taking a hand in his own and leading Blustreak towards his berth and sitting at the end, making sure the grey and red mech had a seat before wrapping his arms around the younger mech in a comforting embrace. "I do admire how you look. There is such a wonderful innocence about you. One, if I were an older and dirtier mech, I would like to exploit," he joked, helm fins lighting up with their usual blue merriment.
It did make Bluestreak laugh and he leaned into Wheeljack, loving the feel of warm arms around him.
His spark pulsed joyfully in his chest.
Bluestreak took a deep intake, calming himself. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so shy. He had been pining for this. Had yearned to have the inventor turn his way and now that he finally had he was going to go nuclear on the poor mech? What kind of courter washe?
"S-sorry... Just... you know... I was hoping to court you properly and I'm such a mess up when it comes to these things and I really don't know what I'm doing and -, " He cut himself off when he realized he was rambling again. He ducked his helm and muttered. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Wheeljack told the young mech firmly. "Don't ever feel like you can't say anything to me Blue. I like that most about you. You don't hold anything back."
He could say anything? Really. It wouldn't annoy him? Actually now that the gunner thought about it, Wheeljack had never asked him to be quiet or so much as muttered a 'mute it' at him in all the conversations they'd had. It was a relieving feeling really. The pearlish-blue optics focused on the facemask covering the rest of the inventor's face.
"Hey Jack...can you please retract your mask for me?"
Wheeljack looked intently into Bluestreak's optics as he carefully retracted the mask, baring his faceplates to the grey Praxian.
Bluestreak's optics brightened as he smiled. "I've said it before, I'll say it again, you look really handsome Wheeljack and it's always such a shame that you don't show everyone your smile more often because it's beautiful. I'm really glad that it's all for me." He said the last part quickly, still a bit leery of saying what he felt, even if the mech before him encouraged it.
Wheeljack chuckled, relaxing as gentle, tentative fingers moved to his face, tenderly stroking over his cheek seams, touching his scars carefully, lightly. The touches were not judging, but accepting. It made the engineer sigh and shutter his optics with the sensations. It was pleasant to not fear. It had been another of the things he and Bluestreak had talked about while he had been laid up in medbay. They talked about his past with Sirrus, talked about how Wheeljack should be free to expose his face around Blue. His helm fins shone a softer blue as Bluestreak's nimble fingers slid up to his optics, tracing them, before moving down his nasal ridge and to his lips.
"I really like your lips. They seem...really perfect," Bluestreak observed quietly, going bolder with more confidence.
"Blue..." Whispered Wheeljack.
Bluestreak watched as Wheeljack relaxed under his fingers, felt the exhale of air from the parted lips as his thumb brushed across them. He leaned in, slowly, still slightly unsure. Wheeljack's optics came back on, and he pressed forward, meeting the Datsun halfway. Their lips molded, plate for plate, inch for inch and they kissed softly. What felt like an eternity was really only a few moments before they were pulling away.
Bluestreak hadn't even realized that he'd bought both hands up to frame Wheeljack's face, and likewise, Wheeljack hadn't realized that his own hands were resting on Bluestreak's forearms. they stayed like that for a few moments, just looking at each other, neither sure what to say, both too afraid to break the moment.
"It seemed really unlikely, that you liked me back, you know? I have wanted to kiss you for so long. And now I am, and it's just...wonderful. I know we know each other well for ages as friends and I know we are knew to the deeper relationship thing but when I kiss you...it feels like home," whispered Bluestreak, carefully breaking the loaded silence.
"I was more worried about the age gap to tell you the truth, more than attraction," Wheeljack said, brushing his lips over the younger's once more briefly in a teasing touch.
The doorwinger's intakes hitched and he replied, "I've never seen you as old. To me, you seem so young. Because you keep getting up when you fall, you keep being curious about everything about you and wanting to help the Autobots with your inventions - and your enthusiasm for making stuff about matches mine for talking."
They both chuckled softly at that.
"Hey Blue...I think it's beginning to feel like home too."
Bluestreak smiled at Wheeljack, placing soft kisses all on the faint, barely noticeable scars on the silver faceplate. An internal alarm buzzed and he reluctantly pulled away.
"I got patrol. I'll leave you to rest, but I'll be back and we can keep doing stuff later, ok?" asked Bluestreak, double checking.
Vocal indicators flashing, Wheeljack assured, "Don't worry. I've got a plan for tonight."
With a cheeky glint in his optic, the gunner teased, "just as long as it doesn't involve bombs, then it's all good."
"Brat." Wheeljack scoffed, pushing Bluestreak's shoulder softly.
"You know it." Bluestreak teased, ducking to kiss the CME once more. "Gottagoloveyoubye!"
Wheeljack chuckled softly, watching the doors cycle shut behind the seemingly floating soldier.
After Bluestreak had made his exit, Wheeljack stood and looked around the room. "Well then... Let's see what we can do about this."
Bluestreak got off patrol, feeling distinctly differing emotions. He was tired from patrol but also invigorated to see Wheeljack again. His spark felt light and happy at the thought that they were going to do something tonight. Maybe something resembling an actual date! The thought made him grin, and he chirped greetings to anybot who passed in his happy haze. Prowl passed by him, giving him a fond look of amusement before continuing on his way.
Now at his destination and tapping on Wheeljack's door, he giggled when he heard a thud and then a muffled voice going, 'Why did I decide to put that there?' before the door cycled open to reveal Wheeljack, helm fins going an odd mixture of pink and orange in embarrassment as he rubbed at his helm.
"Hey Jack, what did ya do?" Bluestreak asked, giggling again at the odd colouring of the flickering lights.
"Banged my head on this shelf. Do you want to see what I did?" asked Wheeljack, stepping back and holding his arm out to gesture at the room.
Blustreak stepped in and stopped, optics widening in surprise.
Previously in the day, the living room had been barren of personality. Now it was flushed with color and life. The space was now utterly Wheeljack's.
There were datapads stacked on the desk, although certainly not in any order as per Wheeljack. There were failed, but memorable, inventions tucked away in corners along with their respective blueprints on the walls either above or beside them. A tool kit sat on the berth and it looked like Wheeljack had been working on something new over there before Bluestreak had shown up. Around the berth were several more inventions... Probably what Wheeljack had tripped on when he'd stood to answer the door.
"It certainly looks... lived in." Bluestreak commented. "Not so barren anymore."
"Yeah, I decided it needed a little life in here. Especially since Ratchet came by and threatened that if I didn't start sleeping in a proper berth he would make sure that there was a medberth suitable enough to strap me on."
And that image should not have sounded or seem as appealing as it did in that moment to the gunner. "Uh... right..."
"Anyway," Wheeljack went on, not noticing the odd tone the words were said in, "We're not staying in tonight. I'm so relieved the Hatchet let me out today or we would have missed it." He walked back into his berthroom to pack up the toolbox, leaving Bluestreak looking after him with a quizzical look on his face.
"Uh...missed what?" asked the younger mech, doorwings twitching in confusion.
"Oh! Sorry, I meant the shower of shooting stars! If we get on top of the Ark, we'll be able to see it clearly. It starts in about forty minutes, so we'll have enough time to go up there and chat," explained the engineer, helm flanges flickering in excitement at the thought. Putting the toolbox away, he went back into the living room where Bluestreak was smiling widely again.
"Really? A real shower of shooting stars? That is so cool!" exclaimed Bluestreak.
The Lancia also couldn't help but think the 'out under the stars' scenario would also be cheesily romantic. Nevertheless, he smiled under his mask, taking the gunner's arm and leading them out of his quarters.
The sky was dark with smatterings of stars dotting the velvet backdrop that would have been space without the atmosphere surrounding the planet. The moon wasn't out tonight (something Wheeljack mentioned as a 'new moon') which was perfect for what they wanted to see. Wheeljack led the way, heading up the steep incline that led to the top of the ARK, the same spot Bluestreak had sniped from not three weeks before. The ground from the battle was still scorched in places and even pink with stained energon in others. Impressive craters littered the area beneath them, memoirs to Wheeljack's 'Exploding Organic Bouncy Balls' (As so dubbed by Sideswipe after his had bounced twice before actually exploding in anybody's faceplates).
Bluestreak purposefully avoided looking at the crater directly below them, not wanting to look and see Wheeljack flying into the wall and crumpling all over again. The image had never quite left his CPU.
"Well, here we go!" Said mech intoned cheerfully, his vocal indicators flashing a bright green in his excitement. He reached into subspace and pulled out a large blanket he ahd borrowed from Jazz until he could get one of his own, and two cubes of highgrade.
"Highgrade?" Bluestreak asked, really meaning for it to be rehetoric.
"Yeah, in celebration! For me getting out of medbay for one thing," they both laughed at that, "and for...well, to the start of a relationship," the inventor said kindly, sitting down on the blanket and retracting his mask, holding out the second cube of high grade to his companion. Bluestreak took it with a warm smile, sitting next to the mostly white mech and leaning in so his helm rested on Wheeljack's shoulder. It was a position they'd often taken as friends when Bluestreak literally needed a shoulder to cry on at times.
"To a new beginning, I guess," stated the gunner, clinking his cube with Wheeljack's before taking a swig. He shivered at the unique taste.
"Like that?" Wheeljack asked with a little smirk, looking very self-satisfied.
"Heck yeah. That's not like normal high-grade, and not even like the twins brew, and boy does their brew knock yours out. I have never tried heaps of highgrade, but this one is...smoother? Well, that's all I can really explain it as. It's really flavorful. I can feel it all around my glossa. It's all tingly!" the younger mech exclaimed at the end, making the older mech laugh.
"It's my brew," the Lancia alt-mode mech explained. "I got it from my stash, so it's been aging for a while. Still got juuust the right kick, eh Blue?"
"Mmm," hummed Bluestreak, licking at the cube as a drop streaked down the side.
Wheeljack gaped behind his blastmask at the loaded smile the gunner shot at him after cleaning the drop from his cube. Who knew that the innocent little Bluestreak could make expressions like that! In fact Wheeljack was pretty sure than any of the expressions he could make. Not that he'd actually had many lovers to begin with, but he was certainly no slouch. He coughed awkwardly, letting his mask slide away so that he could hide his face in his highgrade. Bluestreak snickered at Wheeljack's obvious awkwardness. It was cute.
The Datsun shifted closer, growing bolder with each moment that the inventor was smiling at him. He tucked his helm more snugly against Wheeljack's neck, one arm winding around the inventor's waist and tugging him so that their hips were touching. A contented sigh escaped both as they relaxed into the contact.
"Blue, look up," Wheeljack whispered, pointing with his free hand towards the starry sky.
They both gazed up, mouths falling slightly open in wonder as white streaks grazed across the sky, the shooting stars beginning their shower in bursts of light, painting stardust as they went. Bluestreak hugged Wheeljack tighter, amazed and thankful he had gotten to see such a sight. The atmosphere on Cybertron meant that these kinds of phenomena were very rarely seen. It was beautiful - almost as if Sunstreaker had painted a picture and instructed it to move.
"More than what the news report said," the CME mused aloud.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. It wasn't supposed to continue for seven minutes, it was only supposed to be for three, but I'm not complaining," Wheeljack replied, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the younger mech's hip seam.
The soothing touch made Bluestreak press a small kiss into the warm neck cables. He felt like he was being too clingy at times when he was like this, but Wheeljack's acceptance of touch and reciprocation of it told him it was good to be as tactile when comforting as he was.
Bluestreak felt a little shiver race down the Lancia's backstruts and he pulled his head away so he could look into Wheeljack's exposed face. It was a little flushed, and it couldn't have been from the highgrade. Wheeljack still had half a cube left.
"Cold?" He asked.
Wheeljack glanced at him and his faceplates seemed to flush a brighter pink. "Ah? Oh, no, well it is pretty chilly, but, uh..." He rubbed at the spot Bluestreak had kissed, the warmth of his exhales still lingering on the sensitive components. "Well, how to say it? My neck cables are... kinda sensitive."
The grey gunner giggled mischievously and asked, "Oh, so this is sensitive?"
Wheeljack got a moment to realize he had let the wrong information go before warm lips were on his neck cables, peppering light kisses along his cables. He began to giggle at the light touch, fully going into laughter as tender hands tickled him just under his front windshield. He leant back, lying down on the blanket, Bluestreak re-arranging himself so that he was on top.
The engineer's laughter abruptly cut off into a moan as the light kisses stopped and a hot mouth opened to suck softly at an energon line.
Primus, he had forgotten how good it had felt to have someone suckle on his neck!
Wheeljack let loose with another moan as Bluestreak laid hot, open mouthed kisses all over his neck, hands stilled on his windshield. Wheeljack's own hands slid from the position on the younger mech's waist to creep up to the hinge of the doorwings.
"Nhhh! 'Jack!" Blueastreak hummed in a low vibrato as the engineer's clever digits feathered across his hinges before delving in. "Ah!"
The gunner bit down on the cable he was sucking on, eliciting a surprised squeak from Wheeljack, followed by a low moan. Blueastreak dragged his glossa along the cable he had bitten, soothing the sting, before he pulled himself up. His lips dragged along the exposed cheek seams as Bluestreak followed in his mind the same path he had made with his digits earlier that day. He kissed Wheeljack's shuttered optics, skimmed down the nasal ridge and brushed their lips together before pressing more firmly.
Wheeljack gasped at the feel of those wonderful lips against his. Bluestreak was right. It felt like home. In the past, he might have had so many inhibitions about opening himself up again, but the Praxian mech touched him like no one else had before. Like he was a treasure to be loved forever. It inspired trust from the inventor, and he boldly parted his lips to allow the gunner access to his mouth for the first time.
Bluestreak moaned slightly at the action, finally, finally feeling the tentative brush of Wheeljack's glossa with his own.
Their glossa's brushed, and then stroked, the kiss like the kindling of a flame. Soft. Tender. Perfect.
And then, with a soft nip of the elder mech's denta to a full bottom lip, the flame turned into an explosion.
The gunner's hands flew up to cup the engineer's cheeks, holding them in place as he plundered the other's mouth, exploring, sighing at the unique taste of Wheeljack. And the best part was that Wheeljack was meeting him as an equal, one hand at the nape of his neck while another was stroking at his chevron. Bluestreak couldn't help but marvel at their kiss. It was fiery, passionate, and Wheeljack was such a good kisser.
They pulled away gasping, staring optics to optics, cheeks flushed, intaking air heavily to cool suddenly too warm frames. And then they were colliding again, Bluestreak falling over Wheeljack as the inventor invited him deeper into himself with all the trust in the world.
And the entire moment felt to both that things were finally clicking into place.
Above them, the starry sky lit with two lone falling stars as they twined across the black expanse of space in a never ending dance.
Don't worry! There WILL be smut in the next and last Arc of these two! Read and review.