Pass me some of that fine high-grade
Let me become unmade
Something to recharge on
It'll be a long night
And a hard defrag
- Kaizers Orchestra: Drøm hardt (author's translation and adaptation) -
"…I think I might be in love with you."
Sunstreaker pulled himself from the brink of recharge with a force of will normally reserved for battle. "Say what, now?"
She grinned, resting her chin on his chest plates. "I said I think I might be in love with you, slag-head."
He grunted at the familiar nickname. "And here I thought you were supposed to be intelligent."
She snorted, taking it as a joke. "Please. They moved me from damage-control to damage-causing because I've got a Wheeljack-y tendency to create havoc. That sound intelligent to you?" She leaned in, kissed his cheekplate softly. "I've got to go, I have the next shift. I'll see you tomorrow, Sun."
He watched her walk away, the sway in her hips doing pleasant things to his still-tingling circuitry even with his thoughts still stalling over what she'd said. As she closed the door behind her, he sat up on the berth with a huff, all ideas of recharge pushed from his systems by her words.
Pit-spawned femme. Why did she have to go and make everything so complicated?
Wasn't it enough that they were having a good time?
"Do you love her?" Sideswipe asked. His red brother was leaning up against the open doorframe leading to the adjacent room. He'd been in there the whole time, Sunstreaker knew – the brothers had no secrets from each other. They couldn't, with that bond. So Sideswipe had both felt and heard everything Sunstreaker had done with the femme today, and spent half the time wanting to join them.
"Of course I don't," Sunstreaker scoffed. "You know that."
"Ah, yes," Sideswipe said, grinning and walking over to stand in front of his twin. "The great Sunstreaker doesn't love. He goes through mechs and femmes like… like energon blades through plating, or something, leaving nothing but grief and broken hearts in his wake."
Sunstreaker snorted, amused despite himself. "Remind me to never let you think you have a future in poetry."
"I know, I know," Sideswipe grinned that infuriating grin of his, stepping even further into Sunstreaker's personal space. "You're the artist, I'm the trickster." He stretched, his arms going up over his head and quite intentionally showing off his frame, and Sunstreaker felt his circuits tingling again.
"What tricks are you up to now?" Sunstreaker grinned ferally, letting his hands trace the red plating on display in front of him.
"I am showing you what you're missing while playing with her," Sideswipe replied loftily. "So you have something to think about while I'm on duty."
Sunstreaker growled and pulled his brother closer by the hips. "And when are you supposed to be on duty?"
"In three breems," Sideswipe smirked, letting one hand trace a golden helm-vent.
"That's just long enough," Sunstreaker grinned wickedly, pulling his brother down. "Why don't you show me what I'll be missing," he paused as a brief lick to a helm vent caused him to shudder, "in greater detail?"
Three breems proved to be exactly long enough for that. But even with Sideswipe's dedicated attention still tingling in his systems, Sunstreaker had been unable to recharge. He couldn't help dwelling on what the blasted femme had said.
It was slagging frustrating.
Sure, she was attractive, more so than most, or he wouldn't have let her in his berth. There was something about her lines that just drew him in.
But the same could be said for Perceptor, for frag's sake, and for Bluestreak, and pit, even Wheeljack. Sunstreaker had a thing for beautiful lines, and no few of the Autobots had them.
Not to mention the blasted 'Cons. Those Seekers were the epitome of beauty – apart from himself, of course.
But none of that meant that he necessarily wanted to spend his time with any of them. And love them?
No. Because Sideswipe was right.
Sunstreaker didn't love. Sunstreaker appreciated.
And now, because Flare Up couldn't stop blurring the slagging lines, he would have to let her go.
And the Autobots as a whole would probably hate him for it.
Suddenly furious with everything from Flare Up to himself to the Autobots in general, he stormed out of his quarters and headed for the rec room.
This late, closing to the middle of the third shift, the place was abandoned. That suited the golden twin just fine. He didn't come here for the company.
Primus, he'd have killed for some high-grade, though. Had, too, in the past. But with this cursed rationing, he might as well wish for wings. Prowl had struck down on Sideswipe's last homemade still like a vengeful warlord on a rampage, so they hadn't dared to set that up again.
Boring old mid-grade energon it was.
Having found himself a cube, he wandered over to the windows and stood staring out with his back to the room.
Iacon was dark, the acid rain that had plagued it over the last few orns having destroyed a lot of the already failing light fixtures. Sure, there were still glowing globes and strips of light in the wealthier, more sheltered neighborhoods, and the bordering wall was still lit – and patrolled, from what he could see from here. But large parts of the city had no external lights anymore, their fixtures and globes broken by acid and vandalism.
It had its own beauty, in a way.
Sunstreaker could appreciate that, too.
"Admirin' the view?" The voice was grumpy, familiar, and unwelcome. Sunstreaker sneered.
"Somethin' jump up yer tailpipe and die?" Ironhide asked, watching Sunstreaker from the corner of his optic while nursing his own cube.
"Your sense of humor," Sunstreaker retorted, still with an ugly look on his face.
Ironhide sighed, and turned to lean against the windowsill. "This has to do with Flare Up." He snorted at the snarl directed his way by the golden twin. "Don' gimme that. I've known you an' yer brother longer than anyone cares to remember. I can tell when somethin's up."
Sunstreaker shook his head, still frowning. "None of your business."
"It's the same thing again, ain't it," Ironhide said quietly. "Ya dabbled for long enough that she started expectin' more than she's gettin'."
Sunstreaker ex-vented heavily, hiding behind his snarl and his energon cube.
"Did ya at least let her down gently?" the red mech asked.
Sunstreaker shook his head. "Haven't had the chance to, yet. She told me, and then she had to report for duty."
Ironhide sighed again. "Lad, do us all a favor this time and do it gently. Be nice – I know it's hard for ya, but try. That way, ya might escape the fallout that the last couple of times caused."
Sunstreaker winced. He didn't need a reminder of that, thanks. When he'd dumped Moonracer he hadn't been able to show his face in the rec room for deca-cycles. "So what do I tell her?"
"Beats me." Ironhide snorted a chuckle. "I've only had to do it the once and that was mutual. I woulda thought ya'd be the expert by now, ya've done it so many times."
"I always frag it up," Sunstreaker said disgustedly, and he wasn't sure right now if the disgust was for himself or the entire slagging situation. Maybe a bit of both.
"Then do the opposite of what ya usually do," Ironhide replied. "Maybe that'll work." He straightened back up, walked towards the exit. As he passed, he patted Sunstreaker's shoulder. It probably wasn't meant to be patronizing, but it sure felt like it. "Remember, lad. Gently."
Sunstreaker snorted as he heard the pedesteps fade away behind him.
Gently.
He didn't know how to be gentle. That was for the likes of Wheeljack or Prime, or Bumblebee. Sunstreaker was anything but gentle – he was intense, he was rough, he was passionate about the few things he cared about (mainly his brother and his finish, and not always in that order), and he was violent. And he owned up to all that. He knew he was an antisocial, occasionally unpredictable, easily triggered, beautiful glitch. And he was fine with that.
Why people he got into the berth with kept wanting a different kind of connection was beyond him. If he was them, he'd want as little to do with him as possible beyond the berth. (Or wall, or supply closet, or the occasional desk… Fun could be had anywhere.) Because it wasn't like they would be happy with him in the long run. The only one who was, at least happy enough, was Sideswipe. Sunstreaker knew that, too, and he'd accepted it a good while ago. He had his brother. He didn't need anyone else.
Especially when Sideswipe was so decidedly naughty as he had been today…
There was that tingle again. Seriously, why would he ever want anyone else? Elegant lines or not. Particularly when Sideswipe was almost as beautiful as he himself was.
Visualizing red plating, strong white thighs and a mischievous grin, Sunstreaker emptied and dispersed his cube and went back to his quarters. The whole thing with Flare Up could wait until tomorrow.
He managed to round her up between shifts, just before he was going on-shift and just after she was done with hers. She was in the rec room, getting her cube, and smiling brightly at him as he walked in.
"Hey, Sun!"
"Hey, Flare," he replied quietly. "D'you have a moment?"
"Sure," she said, nodding at a free table in the corner. "Sit with me?"
"Not here," he replied, shaking his head. That's part of what had gotten so screwy with Moonracer. Note to self: do not dump anyone in a public space. "Your quarters?"
"Firestar's on duty, so that works," she replied, her smiled growing impossibly wide. "Come on."
He walked a step or so behind her, partly to keep her from reaching for his hand (which she did more often than he liked), and partly because it gave him a very nice view of that pert aft. In a few breems it wouldn't be his to admire any longer, so he might as well make the best of it when he had the chance.
She coded the door open and walked inside, grinning cheekily at him over her shoulder. Apparently, she was expecting something else to happen, and he would have to disappoint her.
Slag it.
Or maybe… but no. Do the opposite, Ironhide had said. Fragging her first and dumping her after would not be the opposite, it would be the same. And it hadn't worked very well for him back then.
Besides, he always had Sideswipe for the fragging part. He could wait for later.
Flare Up put her cube down on the small desk in the corner, and turned to let her hands run across his chest. "What can I do for you, Sun?"
Primus, but she was making it difficult. Still, it had to be done.
So he gathered her wrists in his hands and pulled her down to sit next to him on the berth. "Flare, we need to talk."
She pursed her lips, and he could see now that she knew what was coming. "Ah, the dreaded talk. You know, I was warned about you." She pulled her hands out of his. "They say you love'em and leave'em. That true?"
He snorted. Warned about him, huh?
Then why in pit hadn't she listened?
"Not exactly," he replied at last. "I frag 'em and leave 'em. No love involved."
"You sure?" she asked, leaning her face towards him, her face positively sultry. "You haven't really given us a chance yet."
"I don't love," he grunted, leaning away. "You can't change that."
"Let me try," she smirked, leaning towards him, her frame crowding him backwards. "I promise I can make it worth your while." Her hands were suddenly all over his frame, dipping into crevices and stroking metal, her lips chasing his.
Damn her!
"Pit, femme!" he snarled, jumping up. "What part of "I don't love" don't you understand!? Slag it!"
She stood up then, angling her body just right to be delicious. "You haven't tried to love me yet. I think you should."
He stared at her. The femme was crazily insistent. "No," he said finally. "I won't ever fall in love with you, Flare Up. We had a good run, but I'm cutting it off now. For your sake."
"For my sake?" she shrieked, suddenly furious and snarling at him, the change in temper fitting her name. "Slag you! This is all you, Sunstreaker, it has nothing to do with me! Get out!" She picked up a polish tin and threw it at him with Ratchet-like accuracy, denting his cheekplate and smearing his helm with the stuff. He raised his arms, backing up towards the door.
"All right, all right, don't fry your processor!"
"Mute it!" she snarled. "You're such a defect, Sunstreaker! Why in pit do you always throw away the good things? We could have been good! You slagging, arrogant glitch! You're self-destructive!" Another tin flew – this time he managed to dodge it. "You're so slagging blind! Can't you see that you're sabotaging yourself? Pit, Sun! We could have been good together!" All the air seemed to go out of her suddenly, and she sank back on the bed, coolant tears leaking from her optics. "We could have been good together." Her voice was soft, broken, and as he watched she curled up in the berth and turned her back to him, her shoulder shaking. "Go away, Sunstreaker. I don't want to see you again."
He palmed the door shut and walked away, pulling a polishing cloth from subspace and wiping the polish off his helm. Somehow, he felt as though he had missed 'gently' by a truly epic distance. And he just knew that he would be in trouble with Firestar and the rest of Flare Up's friends as soon as they learned of this.
He started his shift in a truly black mood. And since he was on comms duty, he wouldn't even be allowed to shoot anything. Or kick anything. Or tear anyone's plating out.
It was going to be a long shift.
-Sunny…-
He nearly snarled again, managing to reign in his temper through sheer force of will. As it was, Sideswipe – as always – got the brunt of his temper.
-What?-
-Your mood is foul enough to keep me from recharging, bro.-
Sunstreaker didn't apologize. Not with words. But he sent a silent burst of affection – as much as he could manage at that point – through their bond.
-You talked to her.-
He didn't reply to that either. Sideswipe knew.
-Sunstreaker?-
He sighed, out loud this time. –Yeah, Sideswipe?-
-You know I've got your back. Always.-
And that, right there, was why Sunstreaker would be content to have no one but his brother for the rest of their existence, if it came to that. Because Sides said stuff like that.
Sunstreaker could trust him.
The burst of affection this time was much stronger, and accompanied by longing – Sunstreaker wanted nothing more than to curl up next to his brother, burrowing against red plating and forgetting about the rest of the world.
-Thanks, Sides.-
-No problem.- He could hear that lopsided grin.
-Now go recharge. I'll see you later, bro.-
-Looking forward to it.-
And didn't that brighten his mood somewhat. He could tell from the bond that Sides was deep in recharge already, which meant that he would be awake when Sunstreaker came back later with energon for the both of them.
Yeah, he thought, focusing on his task again with a renewed vigor. He could manage with no one but Sideswipe. He didn't need anyone else.
He didn't.