He was not nervous. No. He was very calm, very collected, and, slag it all to the Pit, where was he?

Starscream shifted about, drawing in further upon himself in a sulk. His optics darted about once, twice, probing the ever-shifting horde of his fellow Cybertronians. But no bulky, white form bobbed into view, and for all intents and purposes, did not seem to have any intention to.

Harrumphing, he resolutely unwound himself, standing stiff and proud, staring down any whom had the poor judgment to happen to glance his way. No need to broadcast his distress.

Perhaps he had pressed too hard, and spooked the shockingly reclusive shuttle off. It was understandable; he had been rather… forthright. But it was getting so very frustrating, waiting on Skyfire's damnably protracted logic paths. Plans had had to be put into action, or they would continue this awkward dance for even longer than it had already been going on for. It was no use waiting for a transport to make a pass. He should have realized that early on, and pushed harder, rather than simply loitering about, impatiently watching for a bumbling first move.

He scanned the premises again, the prickling sensation of anxiety again creeping up his central neural cable. Still, not a hint nor sign of the hulking mechanism; only a gigantic, Skyfire-shaped void in his immediate sight. The sense of apprehension escalated, a pessimistic little part of his mind began crowing in some sort of masochistic delight.

Skyfire wouldn't stand him up; not without at least some notification, or an excuse of some sort. Of course not. It wasn't in his principles to be that rude. He was just very, very late – uncharacteristically so.

It was possible he had lost interest, despite how much the jet balked at the notion. Conceivably, that could explicate why he had so doggedly evaded Starscream's person, fleeing at every available opportunity. It would justify much of his recent behavior. Who wouldn't be embarrassed at infatuation lost?

Snorting, he reallocated his weight again, discomfited. He wasn't supposed to be the one with leftover sentiments. It wasn't in his nature to feel strong affection for others; he never had before been so attached so thoroughly to one spark. Had never intended to, either. It was much more enjoyable to keep to brief whimsy and lust, they being less complicated than tangling with stronger emotions.

His partners had been varied and interesting, yes, but, ultimately, were easily discarded, with little to no remorse. He had been well pleased with his existence. Things had been going rather swimmingly, he had thought. His world was in order, everything had its place and function. Nothing was missing.

But no, his situation just could not stay as he liked it. Skyfire had to barge his way in, completely uninvited, and ruin everything he touched upon. That lumbering, wonderful, horrible mechanism that he was, completely unassuming in his utter conquest of the tetrajet's spark, infiltrating Starscream's even most private thoughts. He had never been so confounded and fascinated and bothered by someone in all his life. All his charm and charisma was less than useless against Skyfire's intractable obliviousness, his stubborn idiocy in all things lacking a scientific doctrine behind it. By all rights he shouldn't have even had the ridiculous feelings to begin with. None of it made any sort of coherent sense. There was no validation for these absurd happenings; no reasoning his way from where they had started to what it had become.

This was all just… just so… stupid! That's what it was. Stupid.

Skyfire was making him stupid. And sentimental. And most likely driving him mad, as well, in more ways than one.

And, Primus save him, he liked it.

Slumping back against his assumed post, the jet twittered a not-altogether-sane laugh, clicking off his optics to avoid having to meet the frankly questioning glances he had no doubt were being cast his way. Great Iacon, he was getting stupider. Better to simply return to his own abode and give up on all this nonsense. It was that dolt's fault for being late in the first place. He could hardly be blamed for lack of trying.

He thought all this, firm in his resolution, and did not move one nanometer from his position.

Just a joor more. A joor more, and he would leave, and think on this insanity no more. Such a small time longer could not hurt, surely. One little joor.

That masochistic, dark place in the back of his mind guffawed, settling in for a good, long wait.

Idiot.

--

Skyfire stood irresolute, staring with dull, flat optics at the silent door. The entryway remained impassive under his scrutiny, awaiting the tiniest step forward to open and expose him to all the outside world and its many inherent dangers.

He was late, and that jangled harshly against his punctual nature. But, no matter what he did, he could not get his mind off that frighteningly wicked smirk he had been cast. Nobody got a look like that for nothing. Especially after finding out someone had been purposefully ignoring them for cycles upon cycles. He wrung his hands anxiously – he had believed himself quite clever in his avoidance. If he was so painfully transparent about that… what else had Starscream deduced? Would he be offended, mortified by the thought of Skyfire's adoration? Even now, did he suspect something? Was that was this whole business was about? Was he going to confront him and tell him, in no uncertain terms, what he thought of Skyfire's silly infatuation?

Of course, there were other implications that could have been overlooked in his first assessment. It was that teasing edge to his voice as he left, Skyfire supposed. It threw off his reading of that facial expression that had accompanied it. Or enhanced it. He wasn't really all that sure.

It was better to not dwell on the brighter potentiality. He would be less disappointed if he didn't think on it too much.

His hand twitched toward the door, but the rest of him remained as it was.

This could be a wonderful opportunity to finally announce himself. It could also be an impending calamity. He'd rather remain good friends, and work associates, than declare emotions that could very well go unreciprocated, just to sate his curiosity. Affection was one of those inordinately variable emotions, mutable to time and differing factors of the relationship. Who was to say that, even if he could persuade Starscream to indulge him, that it would last? And what if his own feelings changed, after a time? They had not known each other that long. It wasn't exactly an implausible notion.

On the other side of the credit, the possibilities that were opened up if Starscream was to be convinced to feel the same…

"This is all very stupid," He said to the door, conversationally, mostly to derail his meandering thoughts before he 

did something incredibly inane. "The sensible thing to do would be to just ignore this." And he was nothing if not sensible. He could very well squash this irrationality, cramming in the back of his mind, and be as cold and detached as possible. But that didn't sound at all pleasant, stifling himself with such constant objectivity in regards to his partner. He wasn't programmed to be as such, with other mechanisms.

"It might be better to know. To acquire an answer, even if it's a refusal." His voice sounded hollow and blaring against the oppressive quiet of his domicile, and it struck him as rather asinine to be speaking so to a doorway. Despite that oddness of talking to the inanimate, however, he felt somewhat better, for voicing what he was thinking. He rather hoped it wouldn't become a habit.

The door declined to respond further than a blinking of its tiny light.

Somewhat disappointed by the lack of meaningful dialogue, he shrugged absently, waving a hand to trigger to motion sensor. The entryway's bell chimed blithely, and the door swished open without further ado. Staring out of the opening, he fluttered his hands uncertainly, anxiety plucking at him. This was getting ridiculous. It was just an outing.

Besides, it could be something perfectly harmless. It wasn't as if he had to admit what he felt, right now.

His tension somewhat mitigated, he stepped quickly outside, and transformed, taking to the immediate airspace with habitual ease. It was a familiar route, back to the institute, but he often slowed along the way, as if confused on which direction he should have been heading.

Despite his tactical stalling, he eventually reached it, touching down a smidge harsher than he intended at the landing pad. He walked forward, hesitated, and then started again, down the ramp and into the busy byway. Squinting, he scanned the crowd with his optics, at a distinct advantage over the other Cybertronians by virtue of his height.

There was a flicker of movement out of sync with the horde to his right, and he turned his head accordingly.

Starscream gave him a somewhat arch look, perched at head height on the sloping rail of a ramp. He straddled the wall as if it were intended for that very use, one leg jackknifed to his chest while the other swung idly, narrowly missing several hapless mechanisms' heads. "You're late." He said without preamble, a sulky prince upon his throne.

"I'm sorry. I got… caught up in something," The shuttle lied lamely, ill at ease with the faintly accusing glower directed at his person. It was rather strange, being of even height with Starscream. Disorienting, really. By Iacon, it would be so easy to pull him down. To touch those sleek wings.

Someone jostled against his side, shoving by with a rude mutter. Skyfire moved out of the flow of traffic, frowning at the offending mechanism's back. "I thought you said crowds weren't going to be an issue."

"They wouldn't have been, had you been on time. You hit the rush," Starscream shrugged, sliding off of his roost. "And they won't be for much longer." He pivoted about, crooking a finger in a 'come hither' gesture.

Obediently, Skyfire followed, relieved to be extricated from the confines of the thronging byway. The flow of Cybertronians closed behind him, leaving not a ripple in his wake. "It's off planet?" He asked, as they crested the rise back onto the platform he had just vacated.

"Yes," Starscream responded, as if it were the single most obvious thing in the universe.

Skyfire paused for half a beat, then queried, "Do I need to stock up?"

"No," Starscream said, leaping up and twisting into his tetrajet form. Skyfire took a few precious astroseconds to appreciate the display of agility and form, enjoying his viewpoint to its fullest extent. "It won't be a problem. It's close by."

"Oh," He mumbled, distraught that his bid for postponing their excursion was so disregarded, before transforming with less pomp and following after. It took a profound effort to catch up to the speedy tetrajet, but he managed to just pull even, taxing his thrusters to their limits. "Must we go this fast?"

"Yes," Starscream replied airily, though he, reluctantly, slowed, allowing him to ease off from their breakneck pace.

"How close by is it?" Skyfire asked, hoping to fill out the awkward monosyllabic responses.

"Close enough," The tetrajet said casually, dodging a definitive reply.

"Do I know it, at least?"

"Oh, I'd say you do. And remember, Skyfire," Starscream chuckled, quite impishly, and banked away, toward whatever target he was heading for. "You brought this on yourself."

--

"So… tell me again why we're here," Skyfire turned about to take in the entirety of the familiar expanse that surrounded them. It hadn't been so long ago that he had seen the world, and been liberally coated in its abundant, clinging dust. Nothing had changed since his previous visit; it was still the same broken surface, the sullen grey pall over every slab of stone. Jagged pillars, evidence of the planet's final, tectonic death throes, cropped up in a dim mockery of a cityscape around them, though it lacked any semblance of a grid order.

Its atmosphere wasn't far different from Cybertron's, lacking much by the way of its own density. But in either direction, unlike home, they were utterly and completely alone, without even a single light to break the monotony.

Once on the planet had been enough. More than enough.

"You don't like people," Starscream said brightly, evidently quite pleased with himself. "So I removed any and all people from the equation." He gestured expansively, as if to further illustrate their isolation. "If not for your antisocial tendencies, we could have gone somewhere nice."

"I didn't say I don't like people. I said I disliked crowds," Skyfire corrected absently. If he didn't know better, he would swear the dust was actively, maliciously attacking him, intent on covering every particle of his being. "Now that we're here, however… why?"

Starscream flashed his unique, devious grin, and a cube materialized in his hand. "I said I had enough credits to get us overcharged. And that's what I have every intention of doing."

With that, he offered the shining cube to the shuttle, a second cube appearing by slight of hand in his other palm.

Cautiously, Skyfire took the presented energon, the sensors in his fingertips relaying a startling purity in the mixture. "This is high grade," Skyfire blurted in shock, turning the iridescent cube over to watch the way its color swirled. It was much prettier than mid-grade energon, he thought, which was his habitual fare. Tentatively, he took a sip, and nearly reeled at the astonishing amount of unadulterated energy suddenly zinging along his fuel lines. Wobbling backwards, he murmured, "Potent high grade," before offering it back, trying to put his equilibrium servos back into order. A sense of giddy delight washed through him, the kind only accessible from the well-processed energon those in the Towers tended to enjoy. "How did you get a hold of this?" Already, his words were becoming slurred, his mind lagging from the pleasant buzz he was working on.

"Don't snub a gift given. Besides…" Starscream's smirk was as persuasive as it was wide, as he pushed the mostly full cube back toward Skyfire. "What's the harm in one?"

He thought about it a moment, then took another delicious swig. It was amazing, how much better high grade was. "Just one," He acceded sheepishly, sitting down before he could fall down. What was the harm in a little fuzziness, after all?