Untouchable - Pt 1
KinkMeme Fill #2
FIC: G1 - Starscream/?, past Starscream/Various - Virgin, Dark Comedy, Others?
Summary: So it turns out that Starscream's a virgin... Wait, what? And what do you mean, every would-be lover he's ever had is dead?!
Warning for Sticky. And crack; pure, utter CRACK.
Done for this REQ here.
Uh. I have no excuse for this. My Starscream muse abruptly and firmly asserted itself. I'll write more as it comes to me. Thus far it has been doing so in drabble form.
-----
Chapter 1
“W-what?”
“Are your audios impaired?”
“But you…”
“Surely you can see for yourself. It is rather obvious.” Starscream spread his legs a little further and gave the Constructicon a look that was somehow both coy and withering.
“But you’re Starscream,” Hook insisted.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I am pleased to see that your keen intellect has not been exaggerated - only a genius could possibly have figured out what my designation is.”
“You can’t… You can’t be a… a…”
“You are stuttering, Hook. Perhaps you should run a diagnostic on your vocalizer?” Starscream idly inspected the finish on the backs of his fingers.
“You’re a virgin!?”
“No, of course not - the seal on my valve is quite obviously just for decoration,” the Seeker dryly intoned.
“But you’re Starscream!” he tried again.
“I believe that has been discussed, yes. Now, are you going to get back to repairing my hip, or shall we continue to elaborate on how utterly useless you are as a medic?”
-----
Walking into the commissary was an unusually noisy affair, today. While Decepticons were by their very nature a rowdy bunch, this was… taking it to a bit of an extreme. Arching a single optic ridge, Starscream cocked his hip and crossed both arms, staring through the door. Somebody to the side of the room noticed him and let out a startled exclamation of his name. Everybody froze, looking up with wide optics.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt. By all means, continue!” No one moved an inch, so Starscream smirked and stepped forth, ruby gaze raking across the violent tableau. “What do we have here? The Masters,” Mixmaster and Motormaster, “wrestling under a table; Soundwave’s little twin terrors double-teaming Thrust - you look good with your wing bent that way; Wildrider making good use of his mouth - I’d get that looked at as soon as possible if I were you, Astrotrain; and…” The clicking of his thrusters came to a stop as he looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t even want to know what you three thought you were doing.” Starscream waved a dismissive hand at what appeared to be Breakdown, Dirge, and Dead End, tied together at the waist with some sort of cord and dangling from the rafters while having a slap fight.
“So,” the Air Commander braced his fists on either hip and gave the mechs present his most impressively disdainful glance, “would someone care to explain what started this little brawl?”
“Present!”
The shout came from somewhere to the right. Long Haul summarily slapped the back of Brawl’s head and snarled something about not being more of an idiot than was necessary.
Starscream rolled his optics. “I am waiting.”
Motormaster detached himself from his chosen Constructicon and shoved the table aside, clearing his vocalizer roughly. He stood up straight, shoulders back, and set his jaw. “We wanna know if Hook’s a filthy liar.”
All gazes focused on Starscream. This time both optic ridges went up. “Goodness - whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” The red and white mech sneered and waved a dismissive hand. “Just so that we are clear: What was it, exactly, that dear Hook deemed necessary to inform you all of?”
Wildrider finally stopped chewing on Astrotrain’s wing and shimmied his way up to sit on the triple-changer’s shoulders. “There is no way that you are still an Untouched!” Astrotrain immediately grabbed the Stunticon and shoved him into the ground, keeping him pinned there with a firm pede.
Starscream sighed dramatically and shrugged. He then stepped up onto a chair, and from there to a table. “Oh, very well.” Before anyone could pause to wonder what he was doing, the jet turned his back to the present audience, reached down to grab his ankles in both hands, and let his cover-plate snap aside.
Everyone stared at the perfectly pristine seal covering what had previously been rumored as the greediest port in all the land.
“Get a good look. It’s all you’re going to get from me.” The pelvic armor snicked back into place and Starscream stood, smirking. “Now, I expect this room to be put back into proper order by the start of next duty-cycle.” He hopped off the table and sashayed towards the door, heels click-click-clicking in the stunned silence.
The door shut behind him. He got precisely five steps down the hall before he heard chaos erupt once more, even louder than when he’d first arrived. Starscream just smiled.
-----
“Starscream.”
“Mm,” was the distracted answer.
“Starscream.”
“Oh, what? Can’t you do anything without bothering me for just a few, measly minutes?” The Seeker finally looked up from his datapad, glaring moodily at his leader.
Megatron narrowed his optics and leaned forwards in his seat. “When I request your attention, I expect you to give it to me.”
“Well, it’s not a request, then, is it?” he asked lightly, trademark smirk in place. “Then it’s a demand.”
The grey mech growled - a low, dangerous rumble in the back of his throat.
“Oh, fine, fine… No need to get all uppity about it. So, just what is it that you need to discuss with me so badly, my Great and Glorious Leader?”
“A certain… personal matter has been brought to my attention.” Megatron sat back, the picture of amused serenity.
Starscream’s expression fell flat. “No, you don’t get to see.”
Megatron frowned, and he would firmly deny any accusations of calling it a ‘pout’, right before shoving his fusion cannon down the offending speaker’s throat. “Why not?”
The seeker smiled teasingly. “I have already proven myself - you can judge its truthfulness from the others’ testimonials.”
Snorting, the larger mech crossed his arms. “You expect me to base my beliefs on the word of imbeciles?”
“You know I would never have been able to convince that many of them to agree to a single lie. And even if I had - as you said, they’re imbeciles - they’d have fudged it up by now, and you’d know they were lying simply by virtue of there being a dozen contradicting stories.”
“I would still prefer to have verifiable proof from my own optics.”
Starscream gave a smile which would have made Swindle proud. “Why do you want to see it so badly? It’s not as though it’s of tactical importance.”
Megatron chose silence as his answer, offering a mild glare.
The jet slowly stood, swaying his hips as he took the few steps necessary to reach his commander’s seat. He leaned down and braced each of his hands on the armrests, bringing their faces nearly together. “Does it get you hot? The fact that no one has… defiled my body in such a way?” As he said this, he brought one hand to his chest and sensuously ran it down to just above his pelvic-frame. “Or perhaps… Does it bother you, my liege, to know that your swift and deadly Air Commander has never experienced such utterly physical sensations? That there is such an important part of life - or so many would lead me to believe - that one such as I has not yet come to know?”
There was another rumbling from Megatron, but of an entirely different sort from the irritated growl of before. His optics glinted with something dark and hot, hands fisting where they lay in his lap.
“Should I show it to you, my Lord? Should I prove to you just how false the rumors, all these long years, have been about my supposed promiscuity?” His fingers slipped further down to cup himself tightly, and there was the telltale click of the latch coming undone.
“Why did you never bother to correct them?” Every line of the Decepticon leader was drawn taught, ready to snap. Impressively, his line of sight never left his Second’s face.
“It wasn’t worth the effort. Besides - it amused me to hear them tell such ludicrously-fabricated tales.” Starscream moved forwards and promptly seated himself astride Megatron’s lap. Black hands slowly unfurled and slid up to grasp pearly-white thighs. “Shall we make a few of them come true?”
-----
Hook stared. Then he reset his optics and stared some more. The he reset his audios for good measure. “You are telling me, Starscream, that his chair broke?”
Starscream nodded solemnly.
“The very same chair that is in the control center?”
More solemn nodding.
“The chair that not only is comprised of a single piece of very sturdy metal, but is welded to the floor?”
Starscream offered a helpless shrug, the corners of his mouth just barely managing to not twitch upwards. “I guess it simply wasn’t meant to support more than a single mech at one time.” He watched Hook’s face avidly as he let that statement sink in.
“You… you were…”
“There goes that stuttering again - really, Hook, you should have that checked out.”
The medic took a deep intake and slowly let it out. “Alright. So you were with Megatron.”
“Mhmm.”
“And you were both on his throne.”
“Indeed.”
“And then, somehow, the throne broke beneath your combined weight.”
“Seems so.”
“Sending him crashing to the floor.”
“Nasty fall.”
“Where he hit his helm.”
“Quite hard.”
“And impaled himself on one of the fragments of the throne.”
“Energon everywhere.”
“And only barely managed to survive.”
“All thanks to your brilliant skills as a medic, no doubt.”
“But you were completely unscathed?”
“So kind of him to hit the floor first, cushioning my impact.”
Hook sighed and scrubbed at his face with both hands.
Starscream merely smiled brightly and pivoted on one pede, sedately exiting the medbay.
-----
Chapter 2>>
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/4916.html.
FIC: G1 - Starscream/?, past Starscream/Various - Virgin, Dark Comedy, Others?
Summary: So it turns out that Starscream's a virgin... Wait, what? And what do you mean, every would-be lover he's ever had is dead?!
Warning for Sticky. And crack; pure, utter CRACK.
Done for this REQ here.
Uh. I have no excuse for this. My Starscream muse abruptly and firmly asserted itself. I'll write more as it comes to me. Thus far it has been doing so in drabble form.
-----
Chapter 1
“W-what?”
“Are your audios impaired?”
“But you…”
“Surely you can see for yourself. It is rather obvious.” Starscream spread his legs a little further and gave the Constructicon a look that was somehow both coy and withering.
“But you’re Starscream,” Hook insisted.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I am pleased to see that your keen intellect has not been exaggerated - only a genius could possibly have figured out what my designation is.”
“You can’t… You can’t be a… a…”
“You are stuttering, Hook. Perhaps you should run a diagnostic on your vocalizer?” Starscream idly inspected the finish on the backs of his fingers.
“You’re a virgin!?”
“No, of course not - the seal on my valve is quite obviously just for decoration,” the Seeker dryly intoned.
“But you’re Starscream!” he tried again.
“I believe that has been discussed, yes. Now, are you going to get back to repairing my hip, or shall we continue to elaborate on how utterly useless you are as a medic?”
-----
Walking into the commissary was an unusually noisy affair, today. While Decepticons were by their very nature a rowdy bunch, this was… taking it to a bit of an extreme. Arching a single optic ridge, Starscream cocked his hip and crossed both arms, staring through the door. Somebody to the side of the room noticed him and let out a startled exclamation of his name. Everybody froze, looking up with wide optics.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt. By all means, continue!” No one moved an inch, so Starscream smirked and stepped forth, ruby gaze raking across the violent tableau. “What do we have here? The Masters,” Mixmaster and Motormaster, “wrestling under a table; Soundwave’s little twin terrors double-teaming Thrust - you look good with your wing bent that way; Wildrider making good use of his mouth - I’d get that looked at as soon as possible if I were you, Astrotrain; and…” The clicking of his thrusters came to a stop as he looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t even want to know what you three thought you were doing.” Starscream waved a dismissive hand at what appeared to be Breakdown, Dirge, and Dead End, tied together at the waist with some sort of cord and dangling from the rafters while having a slap fight.
“So,” the Air Commander braced his fists on either hip and gave the mechs present his most impressively disdainful glance, “would someone care to explain what started this little brawl?”
“Present!”
The shout came from somewhere to the right. Long Haul summarily slapped the back of Brawl’s head and snarled something about not being more of an idiot than was necessary.
Starscream rolled his optics. “I am waiting.”
Motormaster detached himself from his chosen Constructicon and shoved the table aside, clearing his vocalizer roughly. He stood up straight, shoulders back, and set his jaw. “We wanna know if Hook’s a filthy liar.”
All gazes focused on Starscream. This time both optic ridges went up. “Goodness - whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” The red and white mech sneered and waved a dismissive hand. “Just so that we are clear: What was it, exactly, that dear Hook deemed necessary to inform you all of?”
Wildrider finally stopped chewing on Astrotrain’s wing and shimmied his way up to sit on the triple-changer’s shoulders. “There is no way that you are still an Untouched!” Astrotrain immediately grabbed the Stunticon and shoved him into the ground, keeping him pinned there with a firm pede.
Starscream sighed dramatically and shrugged. He then stepped up onto a chair, and from there to a table. “Oh, very well.” Before anyone could pause to wonder what he was doing, the jet turned his back to the present audience, reached down to grab his ankles in both hands, and let his cover-plate snap aside.
Everyone stared at the perfectly pristine seal covering what had previously been rumored as the greediest port in all the land.
“Get a good look. It’s all you’re going to get from me.” The pelvic armor snicked back into place and Starscream stood, smirking. “Now, I expect this room to be put back into proper order by the start of next duty-cycle.” He hopped off the table and sashayed towards the door, heels click-click-clicking in the stunned silence.
The door shut behind him. He got precisely five steps down the hall before he heard chaos erupt once more, even louder than when he’d first arrived. Starscream just smiled.
-----
“Starscream.”
“Mm,” was the distracted answer.
“Starscream.”
“Oh, what? Can’t you do anything without bothering me for just a few, measly minutes?” The Seeker finally looked up from his datapad, glaring moodily at his leader.
Megatron narrowed his optics and leaned forwards in his seat. “When I request your attention, I expect you to give it to me.”
“Well, it’s not a request, then, is it?” he asked lightly, trademark smirk in place. “Then it’s a demand.”
The grey mech growled - a low, dangerous rumble in the back of his throat.
“Oh, fine, fine… No need to get all uppity about it. So, just what is it that you need to discuss with me so badly, my Great and Glorious Leader?”
“A certain… personal matter has been brought to my attention.” Megatron sat back, the picture of amused serenity.
Starscream’s expression fell flat. “No, you don’t get to see.”
Megatron frowned, and he would firmly deny any accusations of calling it a ‘pout’, right before shoving his fusion cannon down the offending speaker’s throat. “Why not?”
The seeker smiled teasingly. “I have already proven myself - you can judge its truthfulness from the others’ testimonials.”
Snorting, the larger mech crossed his arms. “You expect me to base my beliefs on the word of imbeciles?”
“You know I would never have been able to convince that many of them to agree to a single lie. And even if I had - as you said, they’re imbeciles - they’d have fudged it up by now, and you’d know they were lying simply by virtue of there being a dozen contradicting stories.”
“I would still prefer to have verifiable proof from my own optics.”
Starscream gave a smile which would have made Swindle proud. “Why do you want to see it so badly? It’s not as though it’s of tactical importance.”
Megatron chose silence as his answer, offering a mild glare.
The jet slowly stood, swaying his hips as he took the few steps necessary to reach his commander’s seat. He leaned down and braced each of his hands on the armrests, bringing their faces nearly together. “Does it get you hot? The fact that no one has… defiled my body in such a way?” As he said this, he brought one hand to his chest and sensuously ran it down to just above his pelvic-frame. “Or perhaps… Does it bother you, my liege, to know that your swift and deadly Air Commander has never experienced such utterly physical sensations? That there is such an important part of life - or so many would lead me to believe - that one such as I has not yet come to know?”
There was another rumbling from Megatron, but of an entirely different sort from the irritated growl of before. His optics glinted with something dark and hot, hands fisting where they lay in his lap.
“Should I show it to you, my Lord? Should I prove to you just how false the rumors, all these long years, have been about my supposed promiscuity?” His fingers slipped further down to cup himself tightly, and there was the telltale click of the latch coming undone.
“Why did you never bother to correct them?” Every line of the Decepticon leader was drawn taught, ready to snap. Impressively, his line of sight never left his Second’s face.
“It wasn’t worth the effort. Besides - it amused me to hear them tell such ludicrously-fabricated tales.” Starscream moved forwards and promptly seated himself astride Megatron’s lap. Black hands slowly unfurled and slid up to grasp pearly-white thighs. “Shall we make a few of them come true?”
-----
Hook stared. Then he reset his optics and stared some more. The he reset his audios for good measure. “You are telling me, Starscream, that his chair broke?”
Starscream nodded solemnly.
“The very same chair that is in the control center?”
More solemn nodding.
“The chair that not only is comprised of a single piece of very sturdy metal, but is welded to the floor?”
Starscream offered a helpless shrug, the corners of his mouth just barely managing to not twitch upwards. “I guess it simply wasn’t meant to support more than a single mech at one time.” He watched Hook’s face avidly as he let that statement sink in.
“You… you were…”
“There goes that stuttering again - really, Hook, you should have that checked out.”
The medic took a deep intake and slowly let it out. “Alright. So you were with Megatron.”
“Mhmm.”
“And you were both on his throne.”
“Indeed.”
“And then, somehow, the throne broke beneath your combined weight.”
“Seems so.”
“Sending him crashing to the floor.”
“Nasty fall.”
“Where he hit his helm.”
“Quite hard.”
“And impaled himself on one of the fragments of the throne.”
“Energon everywhere.”
“And only barely managed to survive.”
“All thanks to your brilliant skills as a medic, no doubt.”
“But you were completely unscathed?”
“So kind of him to hit the floor first, cushioning my impact.”
Hook sighed and scrubbed at his face with both hands.
Starscream merely smiled brightly and pivoted on one pede, sedately exiting the medbay.
-----
Chapter 2>>
This entry was originally posted at http://syntheticeuphoria.dreamwidth.org/4916.html.