Sunstreaker onlined slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the smaller 'Bot sprawled out against him. He and Ratchet were alone; he was pretty sure Sideswipe was in communications today. It was one of Ratchet's rare off days, and Sunny planned to make the most of it.
The last week and a half of his confinement—usually something that dragged on interminably, only making his temper worse—had flown by in a pleasant blur as they explored the depths of the new bond. It had been a long time since Sunstreaker had felt so contented. Let those minibots say what they would—Sunstreaker knew the truth of the matter, now.
And the truth was that Ratchet loved him.
He felt the medic stir beside him, reluctantly coming out of recharge, and he grinned at seeing those bright blue optics opening. He was irrationally pleased every time he managed to wake before his white lover—Ratchet's shift usually started before Sunstreaker onlined.
When he was sure that all of Ratchet's systems had finished booting up, he leaned over and captured the slightly parted lips in a kiss, and the medic responded with enthusiasm.
"You're insatiable," Ratchet laughed when Sunstreaker's fingers found their way into the sensitive seam between the plating of his waist and that of his hip.
"Mm-hmm," the yellow mech mumbled distractedly, not pausing in his assault on his lover's more delicate sensors. At the same time, he carefully entwined his mind with Ratchet's as thoroughly as they had entwined their bodies—and both of them moaned when the sensation doubled in intensity as echoes of what the other was feeling rolled through their processors.
It did not take long for them to have each other writhing and whimpering with need, and they both nearly overloaded the moment that connection was established. They stilled by unspoken agreement, panting to try and force cooler air through their vents in an effort to bring their system temperatures down to manageable levels and make this last a little longer.
Sunstreaker was the first to move again, shaking hands stroking over Ratchet's frame desperately. The medic mewled in pleasure and returned the favor as their consciousnesses fully merged and they became one.
Their overload struck them full-force and without warning; Sunstreaker was vaguely aware of Ratchet's vocalizer stuttering into silence and his own fingers leaving yellow streaks across the white chassis.
They lay still for a few moments after it finally faded, cooling fans working noisily to soothe overheated systems. "Mmm," Ratchet murmured. "Don't think I'll ever get used to that." Sunstreaker made a soft noise of agreement.
Sideswipe's 'voice' in their minds was a bucket of cold water.
::What in the Pit was that?::
::What are you going on about now?:: Sunstreaker demanded.
::I think you know damn well what I'm going on about! Blaster and Prowl are looking at me like I've grown a second head!:: the red twin snarled back.
Ratchet and Sunstreaker stared at each other with wide optics. ::You mean to tell me that you—:: Ratchet began carefully.
::Yes!:: was the aggravated reply.
::Oh, my…:: the medic said faintly. ::I hadn't thought that you might get caught up in it.::
::Oh this is rich. Prowl's asking me if I need you to have a look at me,:: Sideswipe said dryly, and Sunstreaker laughed.
::This is so not funny, bro.:: The red warrior's exasperated reply only made his brother laugh harder, and Ratchet couldn't help but snicker himself.
::I'd like to watch you two just overload for no reason while you're supposed to be on duty—in front of Prowl, no less!—see how embarrassed you get,:: Sideswipe grumbled half-heartedly. ::I swear I think he already suspects something anyway, especially after that incident the other day.::
::I warned you about that, but did you listen to me? No, of course not—:: Ratchet complained.
::Shut up, Hatchet,:: Sideswipe muttered.
::Well, don't come crying to me next time the Seekers decide to play aerial soccer with your sorry chassis.::
Sideswipe snorted. ::You'd fritz out over that a lot worse than you did the other day. I mean, come on, Ratchet—it was all superficial damage and you said so yourself.::
::If you went by Ratchet's reaction, you'd have thought you were dying, bro,:: Sunstreaker chortled.
The medic growled at them. ::You'll laugh when you really are dying and my processor locks up from panic. Who'll save your sorry skidplates then?::
::First Aid,:: Sideswipe deadpanned.
If Ratchet had been a horse, his ears would have been flat against his skull.
::Way to go, Siders, you pissed him off,:: Sunstreaker said caustically.
::You think?:: the medic spat, sitting up and climbing out of the berth.
::Look, Ratch, I'm sorry—::
::Save it, Sideswipe.::
The bond let the red twin feel the full force of the medic's anger and hurt, and the need to grovel and beg his way back into his bondmate's good graces battered at his self-control. Ratchet firmly ignored the apologetic wave of remorse that Sideswipe sent.
Finally Sides couldn't take it any more. ::Please, please, babe, don't be mad at me! I'm sorry!:: he pleaded. A pause, then, sensing a figurative chink in the medic's armor, he added::Honey? Sugar? Muffin?::
::You're pathetic.:: Ratchet couldn't keep himself from laughing at the ridiculousness of the human pet names.
::Yeah, but you love me anyway. Uh-oh. I gotta go. Prowl's giving me the Evil Eye,:: and with one last mental caress he was gone.
"Hmph. Sorry fragger," Ratchet muttered, still amused despite himself.
Sunstreaker got up and walked up behind the medic to wrap him up in a hug. "So what're we gonna do today?" he asked, propping his chin on Ratchet's shoulder.
Ratchet turned his head to see the yellow mech's face not a centimeter from his own. "Yeah, yesterday was the last day you were officially confined to quarters, wasn't it?" Sunstreaker nodded without removing his chin from its resting place.
"Yeah, but someone decided not to put me back on the active duty list until tomorrow, and I'm sick of the same damn walls and the same damn movies and the same damn video games. I want out."
Ratchet chuckled at his petulant tone, but inwardly (and buried deep, so his bondmates wouldn't sense it) he was concerned—he was well aware that Prime had arranged this 'free day' for him and Sunstreaker to see what the yellow Lamborghini would do. Ordinarily, after coming out of confinement like this, his temper would be a fearsome thing—woe betide the mech that crossed him—but right now he was as content as a cat with cream.
Of course, that could change at any moment.
One thing he had learned about Sunstreaker ages ago what that he was not an easy-going or even-tempered mech.
"Is there anything in particular that you want to do?" Ratchet asked, turning in the Lamborghini's embrace so that he faced him.
Sunstreaker leaned down and brushed a kiss across his lips. "Nothing in particular," he murmured. "Just away from here."
"Well, let's go get some energon, then, and we'll see how it goes from there."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Sunstreaker said cheerfully.
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When they walked into the lounge, all conversation stopped, and all optics turned to look at them.
Ratchet was not surprised by this—though it was a little unnerving—and he was glad that they'd had the foresight to patch up their paint before venturing into public areas. Sunstreaker scowled.
"What're you looking at?" the yellow mech barked, irritated. No one replied, but they ceased to be the center of attention. Sunstreaker glowered around the room for a few more moments before he was satisfied that no one else was looking at them.
"Get on with it, Sunshine," Ratchet grumbled, pushing the Lamborghini out of the way and heading for the energon dispenser. Sunstreaker grunted in annoyance and followed him, and once they got their cubes they selected the only empty table in the lounge.
Which was, unfortunately, right next to a table full of minibots—including Cliffjumper and Gears—and apparently, they still bore a grudge over one of their own getting mauled.
Of all of them, Bumblebee was the only one to greet them amiably; the rest either ignored them or glared openly, each according to his own temperament.
Surprisingly enough, Sunstreaker returned 'Bee's friendly greeting, and the little 'Bot took that as invitation to strike up a conversation.
"Bet you're glad to be out, eh, Sunstreaker?" 'Bee asked politely.
Sunstreaker nodded emphatically. "I think I'd rather be out getting my aft handed to me by the Coneheads than sitting in my quarters doing nothing."
"I'd imagine it's about as entertaining as watching paint dry," the Volkswagen remarked.
"Right about," Sunny agreed.
"Hey, did you hear about your brother this morning? Seems he fritzed out for a minute there, and no one knows why. Gave Prowl and Blaster a pretty good scare—they tried to get him to go to medical, but he wouldn't have it, said he was fine and he just wanted to finish his shift." Ratchet nearly choked on his energon.
Sunstreaker gave him a sidelong look. "No, Bumblebee, we hadn't heard, but I'm sure Sides would have said something to me if anything was wrong," he told the little Beetle sweetly.
"Oh, well that's—are you alright, Ratchet?" 'Bee practically radiated concern, but the medic waved him off.
"I'm fine, 'Bee—just got some energon in my intakes, is all," the ambulance muttered between coughs, embarrassed. 'Bee regarded him quizzically—something had to be up, but he wasn't quite sure what.
And considering the fact that the Lamborghini twins were involved, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know.
Sunstreaker snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, tell us that again when you're done hacking up that intake valve."
Ratchet gave him an evil look. "Shut up, Sunstreaker."
Cliffjumper suddenly decided to add his two cents. "Yeah, shut up, Sunshine, no one wants to hear your vocalizer today."
"'Jumper!" Bumblebee hissed. "That was uncalled for." He glanced at Sunstreaker, and was alarmed to see the anger on the big yellow mech's face.
"I don't think it was uncalled for. I don't see how you can stand to sit there and chit-chat with that monster," Cliffjumper retorted, glaring at 'Bee and the two bigger 'Bots equally.
Sunstreaker was abruptly wound as taut as a bowstring. Ratchet laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Ignore him, Sunny." The bond practically quivered with the Lamborghini's anger.
::What's going on?:: Sideswipe asked, catching his brother's fury.
::Cliffjumper,:: Ratchet replied tersely.
::Frag,:: the red mech swore.
::I'll handle it,:: Ratchet said in his best 'don't argue with me' voice.
Sunstreaker barely spared the medic a glance, but Ratchet could feel him calm a little. Cliffjumper, however, could not resist baiting the bull.
The red minibot turned to Gears, saying loud enough for everyone to hear, "Don't know why Prime keeps him around anyway—he's about two steps from being a Decepticon, and he's just as dangerous—"
At about the time Cliffjumper got out 'Decepticon', Sunstreaker leaped at the red Porsche—and came to an abrupt halt with his hands around the minibot's neck when Prime's voice boomed, "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," Sunstreaker snarled, giving Cliffjumper one last good shake before dropping him and backing up to press against Ratchet, who had stood to try and defuse the situation.
"It doesn't look like nothing," Optimus growled. His optics lit on Bumblebee, who was still in the shaky process of getting to his feet from where he'd thrown himself to the floor to avoid getting caught in the fight. "Bumblebee," he rumbled. "What happened here?"
'Bee opened his mouth to speak, but Cliffjumper talked over top of him. "He's a murderous traitor, is what happened!" he shrilled. "A Decepticon in Autobot colors—" Sunstreaker growled, and Cliffjumper subsided angrily.
Prime regarded him grimly. "I asked for Bumblebee to explain, Cliffjumper, not you," he said, then turned his attention back to the Volkswagen. "Go on, 'Bee," he encouraged.
"Well, sir…" 'Bee trailed off uncertainly, optics on Cliffjumper.
"It's alright, Bumblebee," Optimus said gently.
The yellow minibot visibly steeled himself. "Cliffjumper started it—" and suddenly there was a clamor of voices all trying to talk at once. Cliffjumper was protesting vehemently, and so was Gears; though there were a surprising number of mechs sticking up for Sunstreaker.
"Enough!" Optimus roared, and the silence was instantaneous. "Continue, 'Bee."
Bumblebee glanced around nervously. "We were just talking—honestly Sunny didn't do anything." He favored Cliffjumper with a glare, and the Porsche wilted a little. "'Jumper just started running his vocalizer, and you know how easy it is to tick Sunstreaker off," he added. Sunstreaker frowned at him, but 'Bee was unfazed by the look.
Prime nodded. "Very well—Cliffjumper, report to Prowl for punishment detail. And apologize to Sunstreaker," he announced.
"What?!" Cliffjumper squawked, startled.
"If your audios are malfunctioning, Ratchet can take a look at them for you," the CO said, amused. Ratchet snickered at Cliffjumper's horrified look.
"My audios are fine," he muttered.
"Well?" Optimus prompted.
The red Porsche seemed to collapse in on himself. Without looking at anyone, he mumbled, "I'm sorry,"
"What was that? I didn't quite catch it," Optimus said, optics twinkling in amusement at the minibot's discomfort.
"I said, 'I'm sorry, Sunstreaker!' There, are you happy?" Cliffjumper cried.
The big semi nodded again. "You may report to Prowl, now," he said magnanimously, and Cliffjumper made good his escape. "All right, everyone, show's over," he added, shooing the onlookers away. Bumblebee began to go back to his energon, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.
"Thanks," Sunstreaker said, nearly flooring the smaller 'Bot.
"No problem—that's what friends are for, huh?" 'Bee replied, flabbergasted.
Sunstreaker nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, almost wonderingly. He patted 'Bee on the shoulder, then let him go and went back to his own drink. Ratchet, who had already sat back down, raised his cube to the Volkswagen in gratitude as Sunstreaker got himself settled, and 'Bee nodded in return.
In the meantime, Prime had gotten his own cube of energon and came to sit across from Ratchet and Sunstreaker. They nursed their energon in silence for a few moments, then Prime shifted uneasily.
"Sunstreaker," he said quietly, and the yellow mech looked up at him. "It has come to my attention that some of our number have not been treating you with respect—and for that I apologize. We have let this go on for far too long, but you may rest assured that we will do everything in our power to see that it stops. No one deserves such treatment."
Sunstreaker snorted. "I don't need your apologies, Prime," he said, shaking his head. "Or your help."
"Be that as it may," Optimus replied, "but I will not have any more of this pointless infighting, and it seems to me that there are others involved in this that are just as culpable as you have been."
The yellow Lamborghini 'hmphed' disdainfully, but didn't refute his CO's statement. After a few more minutes of being ignored by the yellow twin, Optimus finished his energon, nodded amiably to Ratchet, and left.
::Well?::
::Well, what, Sideswipe?:: Ratchet sent back irritably.
::Well, what happened?:: the red twin demanded. ::Sunny's not spitting mad anymore, so something must have happened.::
::Prime happened,:: Sunstreaker interjected sourly.
::Yeah, Prime came in right in the middle of it all, and now ol' 'Jumper is reporting to Prowl for punishment detail,:: Ratchet explained.
Sideswipe snickered. ::He just came in,:: he told them. ::You should see his face. He looks mad enough to chew nails and spit tacks. Oooh, and old Prowlie don't look too happy to see him. I think Prime gave him a heads up.::
Sunstreaker laughed out loud at that, and Ratchet had to cover his grin when Bumblebee looked at them questioningly.
"Sideswipe," Sunny explained. "He says Cliffjumper just reported to Prowl looking like he'd gotten some bad energon."
"Ah," 'Bee nodded his understanding. "Say, are you… alright? I mean, not all of us feel the way Cliffjumper does—" he added hastily, but Sunstreaker waved off his concern.
"Don't worry about it. I'm fine, and that little glitch will get what's coming to him from Prowl, so…" and Sunstreaker shrugged. Ratchet and 'Bee stared at him, mouths open in shock.
"What?" Sunny barked. "Why is it so hard to believe that I might be nice once in a while?" he demanded, then paused. "Especially to a friend?" he added softly.
"Because usually you're not very nice," Ratchet said dryly. Sunstreaker ignored his lover in favor of watching 'Bee's reaction.
"So I'm your friend?" 'Bee asked cautiously.
Sunny blinked owlishly at him. "Well, yeah… You said 'That's what friends are for', right? Doesn't that mean you're my friend?"
"I… I guess so," the Volkswagen said wonderingly. "Yeah," he added, a little more confident. "I guess it does."
Sunstreaker nodded sharply. "Good," he said, satisfied, and went back to his energon.
Ratchet was watching him as though he'd grown a second head. "Am I seeing things, or did you just make friends with Bumblebee?"
"Shove it up your exhaust, Ratchet," Sunstreaker grumbled.
"There's the Sunny I know and love," the medic quipped, earning a scowl. "Oh, and—thanks, but no." Sunstreaker 'hmphed' and looked away, obviously fighting a smile. Ratchet chuckled, then drained the last of his energon and stood.
"Come on, Sunstreaker," he said, watching the yellow Lamborghini finish his own cube. "Let's get out of the Ark for a while."
Sunstreaker simply looked at him for a few minutes, and then he nodded and stood. "Lead the way," he said.