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A plan less ordinary

Warnings for this chapter: lot of sarcasm, lack of seriousness, mushiness and unDcon-like stuff ( in one word: oocness) Starscream being horny, which of course leads to some twisted smut of the sticky kind. (dubcon, breath-play.)

Chapter 3

It was the perfect day for a funeral. Dark, windy, the sky like a thick grey veil above the deserted meadow...

Optimus Prime cautiously deposed the corpse on a mattress of fallen leaves, feeling awfully awkward as he did so, for he had the suspicion no one would really care about the seeker's predicament and that probably no one would mourn him. That was sad really and he sighed as he straightened up over the deceased mech.

"Autobots, a klik of silence for the dead." He announced ceremoniously and those who had accompanied him on the procession stood at attention.

The silence fell.

Then a gasp, much like a repressed laughter, sounded from above and startled the small party. They looked up, saw nothing, shook their head and looked down again.

ooo

When finally they left, a loud crackle erupted in the valley.

Fortunately, none of them heard him this time. Starscream laughed to his spark's content at the ridiculous scene they had pulled for him, of all mechs. Those autobots simpletons were simply hilarious!

It had been easy, really. All it took was a little pain- well, much pain if he were to be honest- and then he had been free to roam about undetected.

The seeker would have grinned if he still had a mouth to do so.

He had discovered, after a recent event, that he was able to live outside of his own frame and although he couldn't explain the phenomenon, he was mostly glad for it.

Not only was his spark perfectly able to exist outside of a body, it was also able to set itself to different frequencies. At very low frequencies, he could escape the detection of average systems. At higher frequencies, he could project a translucent image of his self in order to be actually seen and even heard by onlookers.

He had no idea how his spark could do that. Some would say it was a gift from Primus himself and that Starscream was some sort of messiah, chosen by their God and blessed by his divine light...He'd laugh at their face. He was a scientist and believed only in measurable quantities, valid experiences and proven facts. His condition certainly had a scientific explanation, he just hadn't found it yet.

So, while Prime and the bunch of sparklings he called an army were busy discussing the seeker corpse's fate, Starscream had been freely hacking Teletran one and downloaded all of its valuable information into his core's back-up files.

Then, all he had needed to do was making sure they'd put his body somewhere safe and far away from their base so he could get back inside nice and easy. That's a third thing he had realized his spark could do: possess other mechs, make them do whatever he wanted, speak through their mouth using their voice, everything really, and then they would have no memory of it, which was quite convenient!

After he had dowloaded all he needed from their super-computer, Starscream decided to go and attend the meeting with Prime. And there, unbeknownst to any Autobot present, the seeker had slipped inside Ratchet's body and used the medic's grumpy mouth to suggest a course of action the Prime had accepted: Give the seeker's body back to his faction.

And there he was now, finally alone with his body.

...Yet unable to power it up.

No matter how many times he tried; his body would only twitch once or twice then make him suffer the agony of death all over again.

This was infuriating!

The disembodied seeker looked down at his frame sadly. Oh he had feared this would happen, given how he had destroyed his spark casing in such a hurry, only wanting to be quickly done with the pain. But what else could he have done? When one doesn't have the time or the tools to tinker, they can't possibly kill themselves cleanly!

Still, it was a shame: such a beautiful frame! He'd have to convince someone to repair it for him, someone with deft hands, like Hook or Shockwave...But those two were freaks and they would probably want to experiment with his condition afterwards. No, he'd have to find another solution

A little party of Decepticons appeared in the distance. The noise they made pulled Starscream out of his musing and the seeker snorted at the sight of them, knowing the Prime must have called Megatron to announce the unfortunate event of his suicide. He quickly shifted his frequency so even their spies' most sensitive detection system couldn't see him.

But he stayed where he was and waited for their reaction with anticipation and a morbid curiosity, hoping that some of them would care showing some emotion at the tragic scene.

Of course, he didn't expect them to cry over his death for days on or cover him in flowers and farewell messages printed on large silk ribbons. He knew that some of them, if not most of them, hated him passionately and would rejoice at his departure. Heck, those would probably throw a huge party!

But he hoped that at least a few of his Decepticons still held enough affection toward him to look a little sad at the sight of his mangled frame.

He smiled inwardly as they neared the corpse; they walked at a slow unsteady pace and some of them even seemed to sway as they went. The dead seeker grinned, he could never have imagined they would all be so affected.

His elation was quickly replaced with deep annoyance the moment their high grade-laden scent reached him. They are over-energized! He realized, pit-spawned drunktards!

"Screamer!" Skywarp shouted in anguish before throwing himself at his wrecked wing-leader. The black and purple seeker squeezed the corpse in a most dramatical show of pain and devotion and Starscream felt glad for it, even if it looked downright ridiculous. At least someone seemed to care, he thought as Thundercracker rejoined his wingmate and gently pried him off the dead seeker.

The ghost then swiftly looked toward Megatron to take in his leader's reaction. That is, if the old brute cared to show any.

...Not that he cared about a reaction from his leader and secret lo...sex toy, no. He was just curious to know if the warlord had a spark under all the rust he wore for a frame.

Megatron stood immobile and grim like a statue, his lips firmly pressed into a thin line and Starscream easily recognized the 'I am deeply angry but I won't let it show'-expression in his optics. Well...That was at least something.

"Bring the body back to base," he commanded coldly, his voice rough, probably because of all the high-grade he's had, the dead seeker supposed. What else could make his leader's voice so stained?

...Then he berated himself for thinking about other occurrences during which his leader's voice had gone rough without the need of potent liquors. Now was not the time to entertain such thoughts, certainly not without a body to work with.

He discarded that train of thoughts to focus on the present and watched, a bit surprised, Thundercracker crouch down in front of his body to delicately pick up and cradle him in his arms. He'd never thought he'd see his wingmates treat him with such deference. And, giving up to the emotion and affection he suddenly felt toward his loyal seekers, he promised himself to go easy on them during training for now on.

...Unless Skywarp insisted on being an incompetent idiot.

And if he ever managed to get back under his own metal skin.

OOO

Starscream trailed behind his fellow Decepticons as they flew back to the Victory, wondering how he'd pull himself out of that one. Killing himself to escape the mnemosurgeon's needles had seemed like a good idea back when he was prisoner of the enemy, but he had failed to prepare for the consequences of his actions and now everybody believed him dead. It was not like he could suddenly appear in front of them, explain how he wasn't as dead as they thought,then demand that his body be repaired without question asked.

Could he?

Upon arrival, Thundercracker gently placed the body of their Air commander on the large table of the conference room then stepped back reverently to stand at Skywarp's side.

Quickly, Decepticons soldiers started filling the room, curious about what was going on. As Starscream had expected, a few of them could barely hide their pleasure at the sight of his dead carcass. As for the rest of them, spineless waste of metal, they remained emotionless or displayed sorrow that looked as fake as Swindle's smuggled jewellery.

Megatron placed himself between the table and the assembly and opened his mouth for a speech.

Another meaningless tirade to which I have no desire to listen, Starscream decided. " On this day," Megatron started, "Commander Starscream was found sparkless on the battlefield. He succumbed to no less than five life-threatening wounds, each inflected by a different enemy, which only prove how valiantly he fought today. Decepticons, bow down low to his memory, for his example is one you should forever remember and follow."

Starscream was glad for his lack of a face, because his jaw would have hit the floor already.

"As per the custom," the warlord continued, "tomorrow, his frame will be brought to Cybertron for a ceremony of homage at the smelting pools. For now, and as per Vosian customs, he'll lay in mortuary watch before being taken to his last flight by the whole of the army's air force tomorrow at sunrise. You are all dismissed."

Thundercracker and Skywarp gaped at their leader with obvious shock and Starscream would have probably fainted at his leader's astonishing decision if he still had a central processor to do so.

Since when exactly does the old fool care about Vosian whatever?

The Decepticons quietly chatted between themselves as they started evacuating the place, leaving no one but Megatron, Skywarp and Thundercracker inside. They still looked at the leader with shock and surprise written all over their faceplate.

"Why in the pit are you two idiots gaping at me like that?" The tyrant snapped at them as he caught them staring. They immediately looked down.

"We are sorry, sir," Thundercracker mumbled, "it's just...we are surprised about your decision to let us do as per Vosian customs."

"Why are you so surprised?" Megatron almost barked at them but he wisely chose to keep his calm though and just regarded them with disdain. "Should I remind you that Starscream was second in command in addition to being Air commander of this army? What did you expect I would do? throw his corpse into a smelter as if he were a mere drone? Don't you think that such a high-ranking officer deserve his passing to be done with a proper ceremony?"

"Of course, not...I mean," Thundercracker stammered, "We just wanted to say that we are grateful for what you did."

Starscream felt awkward to witness such a scene. He had always though that, on the event of his death, Skywarp and Thundercracker would just be happy to take his energon and belongings for themselves, get drunk on his finest high-grade and perhaps even claim pieces of his body to upgrade their own. After all, that was what Decepticons do.

He wasn't really ready to admit it, but he was glad to know that they cared.

"You are dismissed," Megatron said darkly and Skywarp, not willing to be told that twice, just grabbed his blue friend's arm and warped them away.

Megatron made for the door and Starscream was relieved to be finally left alone to think and hopefully find a solution, but he soon realized that his leader wasn't leaving: The gray mech locked the door and went back to sit on a chair, next to the conference table on which he was lying.

Oh no, the dead seeker thought, he's going to talk again, and probably blame me for what happened even though I am not supposed to be able to hear him.

But Megatron said nothing. He stared at the corpse on the table, unsubpaced a canister of energon and started to drink from it.

"It is a new brew," he commented. "I'm sure you'd have snatched it from my hand to get a taste for yourself, you'd have probably drunk it all without leaving me one single drop to taste."

Here we go, monologue. Starscream snorted silently, and soon-to-be drunken monologue too, I fear that this 'mourning watch will be long and painful!

"But you know I'd have found a way to taste it anyway," Megatron grinned suggestively and Starscream didn't need much imagination to know what he was thinking about. That would have been nice actually, he conceded.

" Ah, Starscream," the warlord sighed dramatically, and it sounded sarcastic. " I remember that I called you many things, traitor, idiot, fool, coward..."

And 'pretty poison' too, Starscream completed.

"...Never thought you were so stupid as to kill yourself to preserve our secrets..."

Oh, then he knew the truth...Or half of it at least. Starscream understood and, for some reason, that irked him that Megatron believed it. He wished he could tell him what really happened, and he would, one orn, after he'd have got his beautiful body back.

"Or were you just suicidal?" the warlord asked. He moved his hand across the table and let his forefinger trail down the seeker's cheek. "If so, then I wonder what made you want to die."

This is getting ridiculous, The ghost thought, unnerved by his leader's mushy reactions, beware, megs, you are displaying feelings!" he mocked him, he almost wanted to say it to his face, out loud.

Darn, there was something else he wanted to do right now. He looked at his brute of leader and appraised him. For once that he had the occasion to stare and ogle him as much as he wanted, he wouldn't pass on it. His invisible optics roamed about Megatron's body. The old fool was built exactly to the seeker's tastes and while he was far from the ultimate perfection he always bragged about, he was still highly pleasing to look at, listen to, touch and taste and abuse and...

Slag my stupid thoughts! Starscream cursed, feeling his core's temperature rise and his spark's frequency increase now that he had effectively managed to excite himself.

As if on cue, Megatron looked up and stared at the ball of blue energy that suddenly appeared above the seat next to his. "What in the pit is this?" He exclaimed, standing up from his seat and leaning away from the light.

After all, Starscream thought fast, what other choice did he have? He needed to have his body repaired anyway, and preferably before it was thrown into a smelter. He could still use what he'd stolen from Teletran One as bargaining material, tell Megatron he'd give him the intel he possessed in exchange for his body being repaired as quickly and discretely as possible.

He adjusted his frequency to properly appear before Megatron: aft on the table, one foot on the chair, one leg crossed over the other and an arrogant smirk plastered over his lips, he looked perfectly like himself, but just a little translucent.

And, as expected, Megatron gaped at him like an organic fish out of the water.

"I never died, you senile idiot!" the seeker declared, looking nicely offended.

"Starscream? What? How?" Megatron cleverly replied, looking from the apparition to the corpse on the table then back to the apparition, his expression one of pure confusion.

"Ohh!" Starscream sighed in fake exasperation, "Do you really believe I would kill myself only to preserve the Intel I possess?"

"Of course not," Megatron managed at last, taking a hold of himself "But then why is your lifeless corpse lying on that table?"

"Because it isn't functional anymore, you dimwit" Starscream said, as if this was perfectly logical, and it was to him. "I cannot reintegrate it before it has been repaired."

" Then you are a ghost, and you are dead, period!" Megatron shouted at him angrily, " and you did kill yourself to protect information, which was as reckless as it was stupid!"

"Ah!" Starscream threw his arms up dramatically, "Why must you always get angry at the smallest complication! Will you listen to me for once? I'm no ghost, I am a disembodied spark, I still live!" He shouted back at his leader. " And don't ask me how I can do that, I just can, that is all ."

"A disembodied spark? All I see is a ghost next to its lifeless body" Megatron didn't calm down, "What the hell could I possibly do with that?" he spat.

"If you only knew what I am capable of like this, you wouldn't dare talking to me that way," Starscream retorted.

"I talk to you whichever way I see fit!" Megatron roared. Then calming down suddenly, he fell back onto his chair, "You killed yourself and I have been drinking too much." He stated, looking away. "I see things that are not there."

"But I can prove you that I am no illusion," Starscream said, leaning close. He hadn't forgotten what he had in mind. "And once you are convinced that I am no ghost, I'll have a deal to propose."

"A deal?" Megatron asked distractedly, not wanting to let himself believe that this illusion was real.

"Yes, but we'll talk about that later," Starscream whispered, further leaning toward him until he went right through the gunformer's frame. "For now, watch me taking over from you at last!"

( Warning: smut beyond this point)

Megatron snorted derisory. His processor generated strange fantasies sometimes...

His arms moved on their own accord and one of his hand sneaked around his own neck. "What the?" he tried pulling his hand away but it stayed stubbornly where it was.

He realized with dread that he could no longer control his body from the neck down.

"I am inside of you," Starscream's voice spoke from his mouth, "I control all of your motor function, your body is mine to do as I wish while you are helpless to stop me. So what do you say? Does it feel like an illusion to you?" he purred, enjoying himself a lot. Megatron couldn't retort, his mouth would not obey him and even if it did, the hand clamped around his throat would prevent him to do so.

"Hmm, you are strong, leader, I bet I could easily strangle you with only one of your hand." He squeezed a bit more, to prove his point. "And meanwhile, I could use the remained hand for other things," he said suggestively and added action to his words as he moved Megatron's free hand over to the gunformer's chest in a slow, caressing motion. A light moan passed across the warlord's lips and Starscream decided to let him speak, the pressure around his throat lessened slightly.

"If you kill me," Megatron rasped, charging-up despite himself thanks to the touch to his chest and his SIC's delightful display of dominance, "You'll never get your body back."

The hand around his throat immediately clenched, squeezing his intake shut again while the other hand descended across his abdomen down to his pelvic plating, he let out a strangled moan.

If he could forget the situation he was in, seated next to a corpse, possessed by the spark of that corpse's owner, hurt, threatened and molested by him, Megatron would admit that he found this highly arousing.

"I bet you love this," Starscream spoke his thoughts for him, teasingly scraping at his leader's interface cover, "it won't take long before you open up for me."

Megatron shuddered at the words and groaned at the touch. It was true that he loved when Starscream played these games with him and, even if the hand squeezing his neck didn't relax its hold, he knew that Starscream wouldn't kill him;

After all, this was not the first game of the kind they played together.

"Starscream!" Megatron rasped. His hands felt like they didn't belong to him. Although they were too large and rough to belong to the seeker, they felt a lot like Starscream's as they smeared the lubricant dripping from his still shielded valve across his inner thighs. Off-lining his optics, he imagined the seeker there before him, actually doing these things to him, and his cover shifted aside.

"Megatron," Starscream's voice whispered in his head, arousal clear in his tone as he rubbed his fingers against the valve's outer nodes.

His other hand slowly unclenched, turning its painful hold into a light caress, then descended to wrap itself around another part of the warlord's anatomy. Megatron bucked his hips automatically at the pleasurable motions that followed, pushing himself up to intensify the movements of the hand around him.

When the seeker felt his leader's charge rise to an almost critical level, he decided to be merciful and to satisfy their ever-present desire for intensity. He murmured dirty things inside his leader's head then roughly and deeply penetrated him using three of his large fingers at once. No this could be no illusion, the warlord decided as he overloaded on the spot, shouting his second's name as he succumbed to one of the most wicked game they had ever played.

"And now is when you say you are glad that I am not dead and that you love me." Starscream spoke with a grin, this time from next to Megatron, having relished control of his body.

"I am glad that you are not dead and I love that I now have the chance to kill you myself!" the warlord retorted, but his smile really wasn't threatening enough.

To be continued.