Similar to Earth, this planet has a night cycle, and it is that time right now. Mostly everyone has retired to their own quarters to get a few hours of worthwhile recharge before starting the day anew.

Thunderhoof knows that this is something Steeljaw has been looking forward to for a long time, and he'd be lying if a part of him didn't want something like this, too. However, unlike his former… well, he probably should be saying his once former leader… he doesn't have the patience to settle a deal like this. If anything, he'd lose his temper dealing with Cybertronian politics in a civilized manner.

Civilized by Autobot standards, anyway.

At least Bumblebee and Jazz were trying to not start a fight, not that Thunderhoof is opposed to one, but he knows how pissed Steeljaw would be if he ruined what could possibly be their final shot at attaining a world to call their own.

Thunderhoof vented and rubbed his temples, exhaustion from the day's events finally catching up to him. Everything with Steeljaw…

Why does everything have to be so fragging difficult with him? He makes things sound as simple as transformation, which, more often than not, results in one heck of a shit show! Clever, yes, but that came with a fragging god complex…

"And why am I overthinkin' this?" Thunderhoof admitted aloud, gaze focused on the green beneath his hooves. He vented and leaned back, looking to the sky above and stargazing.

As they were in a different galaxy, far away from Cybertron and Earth, Thunderhoof didn't recognize these star systems. Doesn't mean he isn't entranced by their simple yet complex beauty. The small twinkling lights are very relaxing to just lie down and stare at.

"Nice night."

Thunderhoof flinched. He was just about to jump into action when a clawed servo clutched his shoulder plate, giving it a rather weak squeeze.

Unless it was meant to be comforting? Didn't exactly feel like it.

Thunderhoof turned his helm slowly, careful not to hit whoever was standing behind him… and despite only knowing this mech for not even a full day, Thunderhoof is unsurprised.

"Yous sure are Steeljaw's brother, aren't yous?"

"Well, as the elder split-spark, I expect him to take after me, if only just a little bit," Phantomjaw explained, a pained chuckle escaping his vocalizer. He groans as he reaches around and cups his wound. "Mind if I join you? I haven't fully recovered from that beating I took."

"A stick went in one way and out the other; I wouldn't exactly consider that a beating," Thunderhoof retorted, yet still supported Phantomjaw as he eased himself down, careful not to aggravate his injury even further.

"Heh. Yeah, guess not."

"What yous doin' up and about, anyway? Shouldn't yous be resting?"

"Aw, you wouldn't be worried for my well-being, now would you? It is a bit sudden, afterall. Unless you're instantly attracted to others?"

Thunderhoof snorted and rolled his optics. He already had to deal with this from Fracture and the others. He didn't want to have to hear it from Steeljaw's brother, too.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to physically harm the black and white Lupicon.

Steeljaw would probably maim me if I dare lay a digit on his brother without express permission.

That's the reasoning he's sticking to, until something happens to convince himself otherwise.

"Not used to being teased, huh?" Phantomjaw guessed, sensing the tension of the mech beside him.

"I'd pummel 'em into scrap metal," Thunderhoof declared, grinning.

Phantomjaw laughed.

He suddenly hissed and instantly cringed, reaching for his wound once more. Thunderhoof spared a glance at the frame next to him. The hole where the stab wound was is – supposedly – all patched up, but Thunderhoof can't tell due to the bandage wrapped around Phantomjaw's undercarriage.

"Again, what are you doing out here?" Thunderhoof demanded, more firm in his questioning.

Phantomjaw, for his part, is unfazed, and despite the pain, laughs it off.

"By the stars, you sure are persistent. You don't need to worry, honest! I've had…"

Phantomjaw cut himself off with another hiss from the pressure building around his wound. He looked down and saw a large servo gripping his injured side.

"If you had worse, you wouldn't be taking it so badly," Thunderhoof retorted, pushing his fear of what Steeljaw might do if he found out he hurt his brother to the back of his processor in order to get through to said brother. "Yous certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to get out of the berth if this had happened before."

"So what if I'm not as strong as my brother? I can still handle being injured!" Phantomjaw snapped.

.

. .

. . .

Well, Thunderhoof certainly wasn't expecting that. Unlike Steeljaw, Phantomjaw didn't seem the type to be prone to stress-induced outbursts, or losing his temper in general. Sure, there was the incident with Thundertron earlier that day, but that was different! The Captain was threatening his brother. Of course he would take on a more aggressive stance to protect him!

But this wasn't like that.

"What? Why are you staring at me?" Phantomjaw asked, breaking Thunderhoof out of his mental rut.

"Nothin' . . . Although, I guess I just don't see you bein' the type to blow up like that so easily," Thunderhoof explained, treading lightly, for once.

"We literally just met. How could you possibly know anything about me?"

Okay, now Phantomjaw was getting unreasonably defensive, even more so than Thunderhoof ever witnessed with Steeljaw.

"I know your brother, and it's clear you two aren't all that similar."

The mechs held an intense, unwavering gaze for a few minutes, analyzing the other, trying to figure out what they could be thinking.

"So what you're saying is that you think of the opposite of my brother, and then you come to your conclusion regarding me based on those differences?" Phantomjaw questioned.

"Mmm… Pretty much, yeah, I guess yous could put it that way," Thunderhoof replied.

Phantomjaw huffed and crossed his arms. He lowered his helm and curled his tail around the lower half of his frame. The black and white Lupicon is clearly bothered by something, and Thunderhoof – not because he cares! – wants to know why.

"Yous gonna sit there moping the whole time or what?" Thunderhoof asked.

"I'm not moping," Phantomjaw grumbled, curling into an even tighter ball. He flinched when he felt the seams of his patch stretching, but chose to ignore it.

Unfortunately for him, this did not escape Thunderhoof's attention. He shook his helm and vented.

"Alright, if that's how you want it…"

Thunderhoof kneeled in front of Phantomjaw and wrenched one of his arms out and to the side.

"Wha…What are you doing?" Phantomjaw yipped, struggling in the neigh-unbreakable grip.

"Getting you to pay attention to me and tell me the truth," Thunderhoof answered, vocalizer low and even. "I don't like being lied to, so I suggest you spit it out, whatever it is you're hiding…"

When Phantomjaw tried to claw Thunderhoof's servo off his own, the Cervicon responded by grabbing his other servo and yanking it away.

"And I have no doubt in my processor that it has something to do with your brother."

Phantomjaw froze in shock. He opened and closed his jaws, but no sound came out. Eventually, he managed a whimper, and, despite his claws being held captive in the other's grip, tried to curl into a submissive position.

"I… I've never really told anyone this because of my profession, but… I'm ashamed of myself."

Somewhat satisfied, Thunderhoof released one of Phantomjaw's servos while continuing to hold the other in a tight grip. Sure, he could have gone about this another way, but he's an Ex-Con, a former mafia boss. He doesn't do gentle, especially when it comes to getting answers.

Besides, he is determined to learn all he can about Steeljaw's mysterious brother, and playing with one's emotions, he found out, can make one rather pliable. Bringing up Steeljaw was both a good decision and a bad decision, in hindsight.

"Go on," Thunderhoof urged, his grip on the still captive set of claws building in pressure ever so slightly.

"I…I'm the older brother. I should be the strongest. I should be able to protect my younger brother. I should have been there for him. Instead, I was never around when he needed me, and whenever I did visit…"

Phantomjaw vented and slumped forward.

"He never particularly wanted my company. He was always working on a new project, and hated it whenever I interrupted his work. He prided himself on being the best. His arrogance was overwhelming."

"That hasn't changed," Thunderhoof mused, glad to know that Steeljaw wasn't only that way with him and the other Ex-Cons. He shook his helm and turned back to Phantomjaw.

"As much as I would love to learn about Steeljaw's past, I ain't asking about that. What exactly does any of this have to do with what's wrong with you?"

Phantomjaw shifted, uncomfortable with what he's about to admit, to an absolute stranger.

"Well, I… it's because…"

The black and white Lupicon circulated his vents, then looked up at Thunderhoof.

"I am a spy, and as such, I had to rely on my wits and speed. Rarely have I ever been in a fight, let alone one that required incredible strength and endurance at close combat. That kind of fighting was something my brother specialized in. So, when Thundertron ambushed us…"

"You felt useless," Thunderhoof interrupted. Phantomjaw glared at him. "After he nearly beat you into scrap metal, anyway."

Phantomjaw vented and averted his gaze.

"Yeah. After we reunited, I noticed Steeljaw was injured. I asked him about it, and he told me what happened with Thundertron. That… that he was…"

"I know. He told us."

"After you forced it out of him."

Thunderhoof just shrugged.

"Anyway, after he told me what happened, I realized that he suffered because he didn't have anyone strong enough to help him. Yes, he's strong and clever, but that doesn't mean he didn't need help, and I wasn't around when I should have been."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Thunderhoof asked, and he immediately regretted it. The look he received from Phantomjaw was nothing short of spark-numbing.

"You saw how broken he became when something even remotely related to what happened was either said or done, on purpose or accidentally. It. Wasn't. Him. My brother has always been strong-willed and hard-working. In short, he's ambitious. He never stays down, and he is never scared. I don't believe I need to tell you these things."

Thunderhoof didn't answer. There wasn't a need to. Silence is enough.

Phantomjaw accepted the other mech's silence and relaxed.

"I have never seen him broken down and scared. What Thundertron did to him… not being able to fight his way out… not having anyone strong enough to help him… I just wish I could have done something. Been of more use. I could only offer comfort and protection long after the incident. But then what happened earlier today?"

"C'mon, no way any of us could've beaten him," Thunderhoof tried to reassure, wrapping an arm around the black and white Lupicon.

He didn't want to admit that he had felt intimidated by Thundertron, but if saying these things would get Phantomjaw to calm down and go back to annoying him – like he would prefer – then he'll suck it up and work through it.

"Um… Thunderhoof?"

"Hm?"

"Satisfied? Are you done interrogating me? I mean, I know I was all over the place, but give me a break! Socializing in a serious manner isn't exactly one of my specialties, either."

"Hadn't noticed."

Phantomjaw chuckled.

"Right. Anyway, can you let go of my servo now? You've been crushing it for ages, and it's starting to really hurt."

"Oh, so now you don't mind complaining about your pain?"

"Different kind of pain, and I'm very attached to my claws, so if you could just…"

Thunderhoof snorted, amused by Phantomjaw's apparent fickle personality, and released the captive servo. When he pulled away, he noticed just how much damage he actually did.

"Wow, quite a grip you got!" Phantomjaw commented, gingerly rubbing the bent and crumpled metal plating of his wrist joint.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get you in and patched-up, again," Thunderhoof rumbled, collecting the injured mech in his arms. He rose to his hooves and walked back into the ship.

"You do realize the others are going to ask questions."

"They can go frag themselves for all I care."

Phantomjaw chuckled. He relaxed in the protective, dare-say gentle hold of the Cervicon, pressing his helm against the other's chassis.

"Glad to know my brother found someone else big and strong, and I guess smart enough, to rely on for the past few orbital cycles."

Thunderhoof stopped and gawked at the mech he was carrying.

"You guess? Are you saying I'm stupid?"

Phantomjaw once again chuckled.

"You're so easy to rile-up! I think I'm gonna really like you."

.

. .

. . .

That… Thunderhoof wasn't sure what to think of. He kept his mouth shut and continued onward to the med-bay.

"Nothing to say?" Phantomjaw inquired, tilting his helm. Thunderhoof briefly glanced down, and wished he hadn't.

Dammit! Why does he look so cute like that?

"Hoof?"

"Do you like me?"

Thunderhoof immediately turned to the side and whacked his helm against the wall.

Frag, why did I ask that? Why was that the first thing that came out of my mouth?

"Why wouldn't I? You're funny!" Phantomjaw answered with an amused chuckle. To which, hearing it made Thunderhoof blue in the face.

Primus, even his laugh is adorable!

"Okay, just… just clarifying: you aren't interested in me because I saved you?" Thunderhoof asked, not believing the other mech's reasoning, and yet, so desperately wanting it to be true.

"No, of course not!" Phantomjaw said, then explained further. "You see, my brother always had a thing for those like you. As a spy, I tend to notice things like that. And from what I can gather, you two are close. Not in the same way he and Ramulus are, obviously, and that intrigues me."

"So, what you're saying is…"

"You better get used to having me around, because I really want to get to know you."

If someone told him his faceplate turned as blue as his plating, Thunderhoof would believe them.

"This ain't a…"

"Not yet…"

Levering his servos against cobalt blue armor, Phantomjaw leaned up and over and placed a few, slow, tender licks to Thunderhoof's neck. The Cervicon stopped and shivered, startled by the intimate gesture, and either weirded out or aroused by such an action and its implications.

"Let's just take it one step at a time, okay?"

.

. .

. . .

"Okay."