Chapter 3

Not surprisingly, given Megatron's fondness for beating his Second in Command within an inch of his life on a far-too regular basis, Starscream had opted to have his personal quarters as far from Megatron's as was physically possible on the Nemesis. While this strategy had saved his life on more than one occasion, even the Seeker was forced to curse his own stupidity as he dragged his wanton creation through the halls of the Decepticon ship, wanting nothing more than to throw Bluestreak against a random wall and force his endlessly-running vocalizer to scream nothing but his carrier's designation …

"Mmmm, Starscream …" Bluestreak whispered, pressed so close behind Starscream it was making walking a difficulty. Two of the triple-changers spotted them as they moved past, almost-disgusted expressions marring their ugly faces. Neither flyer cared that their actions were deemed repulsive by mechs who were generally considered sparkless murderers of the worst kind. After all, if what they did felt so delicious, so sinfully exquisite, then there was no force in the universe that would stop them.

"If you're going to cling to my backside so tightly, sparkling, make yourself useful while you do it. Touch my wings," Starscream demanded, shivering as Bluestreak instantly obeyed, gray fingers sweeping along the sensitive plating. At last, the Air Commander's quarters came into view, but before Starscream could enter in the access code, he found himself flung against the door, his wings scraping painfully against the cold metal as Bluestreak wormed his way in between his creator's legs, hands still pawing shamelessly at his wings as he viciously claimed Starscream's mouth.

Starscream smiled wickedly into the kiss, feeling Bluestreak's glossa stab into his mouth, leaving no space untouched. His sparkling didn't know it, but he kissed almost exactly like Megatron; dominating, taking what he wanted regardless of whether or not it was being offered. However, unlike Megatron, Starscream knew that he could instantly turn the tide, could land his aggressive offspring on his back and that the young gunner would love it.

Pulling back, Starscream bit at Bluestreak's lips until energon was dripping down his chin plates; licking at the wounds and tasting the unique sweetness that was purely Bluestreak. "Let me open this door, Bluestreak, or else I won't give you what you want," Starscream said, letting a sky-blue hand drop down to brush against the other mech's scorching hot codpiece. Bluestreak moaned at the brief touch, stepping back in order to allow Starscream to unlock his chambers. The second the door was open, the younger mech swept forward again, tackling Starscream to the floor of his quarters.

"Come on, Starscream, it's not fair that you've got me so heated up!" Bluestreak whined, grinding himself down on the mech under him, letting his panel open so that fluids from his valve began to smear all over Starscream's hips and abdominal plating. "Listening to you counter Megatron, seeing the imprints of your frame all over his quarters from where he's forced you into the bulkhead until the metal curled around you … ugh. I'm so jealous that you were able to remain here with him while I-"

"Quiet, Bluestreak!" Starscream growled, silencing him with a sharp twist of a grey wing. The Seeker's panel opened, and the gunner heard the sound of its release, even through his own shrieks of pain over his abused wing. "Perhaps you will learn a lesson from this—Oh!" Starscream paused mid-admonishment as Bluestreak lowered himself on his carrier's spike, clenching his valve around Starscream just as the older mech had taught him to do so many vorns ago.

Bluestreak's optics nearly fritzed out at the sensation of having Starscream inside of him. Seekers were constructed with additional grooves and ribbed cross-hatching on their spikes, which felt glorious inside of an aching and needy valve. Moving himself up and down in quick, brutal motions, Bluestreak tossed his chassis back, his wings flaring out behind him as the pressure building within his interface circuitry began to overwhelm him.

Starscream watched through half-lidded optics as Bluestreak worked him, appreciative of the show his creation was putting on for him. "You've become more confident, sparkling," Starscream said, moving his hands down to grasp the other mech's hips, helping him along in his movements. "How many … mmm, how many Autobots have you shared yourself with? Whore."

Instead of being offended by his carrier's callous remark, Bluestreak felt himself charging further as he remembered the various encounters he had with mechs aboard the Ark. "The … the twins, I let them take my seal. And, yes! Once, one time I let Cliffjumper suck my spike; he tried to bite it, was so surprised when it made me overload instead! Was surprised too, I didn't know then that I liked the pain so much …"

"What do you mean, they took your seal?" Starscream asked, suddenly filled with jealousy at Bluestreak's words. Flipping both of them over, the Seeker began viciously thrusting into the other mech, moving so fast and so hard that several of Bluestreak's internal chambers and wires were perilously close to being punctured or ruptured. Lubricant dripped from the younger mech's valve and onto the floor, creating a small, iridescent puddle.

"A-after they … they reformatted me! Everything was fresh, was un-unbroken!" Bluestreak cried out, wrapping his legs around Starscream's tightly, encouraging the Seeker to move even faster, harder. "Gave them my spark too, but they said that it wasn't untouched … they didn't know it—I didn't know it—but they felt you there. My … my … Starscream!"

The strength of Bluestreak's overload was almost enough to trigger Starscream's, but somehow the Seeker managed to hold himself back from the edge, slowing his movements inside the other mech even as his valve twitched and spasmed around his spike. "You are so beautiful in overload, Bluestreak. So beautiful when you scream out my designation …" Dropping his head down to his creation's shoulder cannons, Starscream allowed himself a brief moment of weakness. "I was sure I had lost you, Silverstreak. My only creation, and I thought you had been deactivated."

Bluestreak, still struggling with the aftershocks of the amazing overload he had just experienced, suddenly felt deep aching and regret build within his spark in the soft words spoken by his carrier. Until his memories had been restored, Starscream's creation might as well have been deactivated … Bluestreak was not Silverstreak, and even restored to his proper frame and with his faction once more, the thousands of vorns he had been lost, living among those pathetic Autobots, had not left him unchanged. He could not go back to being Silverstreak, heir to the Decepticon throne … but that did not change the fact that he was a Decepticon, that he was the creation of the army's two strongest warriors, and that he would make the Autobots pay for causing his beloved carrier such torment.

Rolling them over again, Bluestreak moved slowly down Starscream's body, licking and nipping at various weak spots in his armor, causing the other mech to let out sharp cries of pleasures. He could feel Starscream's interfacing equipment sparking with need, but Bluestreak was not going to give the Seeker the release he craved … yet. "I never did finish telling you about all the mechs I allowed to touch me when I was with the Autobots," he whispered enticingly, having liked the jealous response his earlier admissions had sparked in the other mech.

Starscream purred as Bluestreak teased him, thankful that his momentary weakness had passed, the feeling eased by his sparkling knowing just how to touch him. Lifting his helm so that he could watch Bluestreak's progress, Starscream softly said, "Tell me about all of them … tell me which ones I will have to dismantle for even thinking themselves worthy of you."

Bluestreak shivered … nothing in the universe was more gorgeous than Starscream tearing mechs apart, sparked by a passionate, destructive rage. His own circuits began heating up again at the mere idea of such devastation. "I don't think we'll have enough time to go over all of them before the Autobots arrive," he said, leveling his mouth near the tip of Starscream's spike, which was leaking transfluid and glistening with Bluestreak's own lubricants. "But I'll tell you about the best ones," Bluestreak promised before pressing a kiss against his creator's interfacing rod, the shrill shriek of Starscream's pleasured cries echoing throughout the Seeker's quarters.