G1 ficlets
Title: I smell ozone and energon.
Author: Lurkerlynne
Pairing: Starscream/Optimus Prime, G1
Rating: See individual
Summary: A related series of ficlets, dealing with Starscream and Optimus Prime’s relationship. Um, I kinda skipped right to the smut and have no idea why Starscream is with the Autobots. Or how he ended up in OP’s quarters. This has absolutely nothing to do with Kite Strings and Sealing Compound, other than some common ideas.
Author Notes: Muse ambushed me about 10.30 last night and didn’t let go until 6 this morning. Hopefully, this means she’ll let me get to bed in a timely fashion now. Spell checked and self-betaed.
ETA: I despise Livejournal's interface. And I'm not to fond of mine, either- slagging thing kept dropping italics! Gah!
You have such a pretty little baby face
Rating: R
Prime was in recharge. Starscream snorted; the great and mighty leader of the Autobots, Megatron's archenemy, not only was inexperienced, not that much of a surprise, nobody that uptight could be getting it with any sort of regularity, but even so Prime shouldn't fall into recharge like a younglin-
Wait.
Starscream frowned, pushing himself up from where he had been laying cockpit to windscreen with the Autobot. Kneeling above Prime he inspected the revealed features; Prime’s mask did retract, satisfying his curiosity about that, and Prime had run lip components over Starscream's wings, his glossa over his port. Relaxed in recharge, Prime’s features showed none of the signs all Seibertonians did as they aged- worn components, small scratches, the subtle mismatches of repaired and replaced parts.
A 'baby face', he'd heard humans call youthful features. But that didn't seem quite right; the mask may have protected his face but something didn't add up.
Leaning back to kneel, Starscream inspected the recumbent Autobot. Optimus Prime was a beautiful specimen of a mech- long, clean lines, paintjob coordinated and well-maintained, grace and speed in everyday movements. Running his gaze, and hands, lightly so not to wake, down that form, Starscream scrutinized everything he saw. Broad shoulders and gleaming smokestacks, windscreens with their sensitive wipers, ticklish grill, pelvic armor and the panel that concealed and protected Prime's spike.
Starscream felt his turbines rev a little at the thought of that spike; a piece with the rest of Prime, long and pleasantly bulky, it was marvelously shaped with wonderfully spaced ribbing. It had fit his port like they had been designed to interlock, stretching the walls of his valve and stimulating the sensors- Starscream hummed as his systems surged.
Prime had been sensitive to the lightest touch, reactive to the smallest change in energy fields. He had nearly overloaded when Starscream had ascended and surrounded his spike, systems surging, engine revving, vocalizer breaking into static. Prime's large hands had closed tight around Starscream's hips as Prime arched, fighting not to overload. Starscream had encouraged this by fluctuating his energy fields in a way he knew was unpleasant. It had worked, knocking Prime down, leaving him cycling his cooling systems fast, revving his engine hard.
Prime had fought his inexperience and the interface had led to an overload that still made his systems tingle.
Tracing around the panel, idly considering waking Prime for another round, Starscream wondered who installed the spike; before the war had begun, an exploratory team had discovered a world with mechanical life, the result of long-past colony attempts, that had acquired organic reproductive organs, even reproduced that way. That had resulted in many Seibertronians upgrading themselves, mostly for entertainment.
At first anyway. In-body spark-generation was more efficient and safer than building a form and implanting a spark. The sparkling onlined with more knowledge and skill, as well as survived their early years with less trouble. And they had the ability to grow by consuming the proper materials, just needed some help with the formatting. So Seibertronians started being built with the requisite parts and protocols.
Starscream had his port and accompanying programming installed on Megatron's orders, for his personal pleasure.
There was a small click and a soft whirr as Prime's panel retracted, revealing his spike, still in its retraced form. Soft, teasing touches got it to extend and Starscream stroked his thumb along the posterior ridges, feeling it start to stiffen. Prime shifted, engine humming, but did not online.
Leaning closer, intending to slide his glossa along that tempting length, Starscream noticed the expert construction of the internal workings.
And the lack of marks indicating an upgrade. Straightening in shock, Starscream tried to wrap his processors around that fact. Lack of marks indicated Prime had been constructed with a spike, which meant, even if he had been one of the first to be so....
..Prime had reached his majority just as the war started. He had been made Prime not too long afterwards.
"Primus!" Starscream smacked his hand against Prime's chassis, waking him with a start. Blocking Prime's automatic grab, Starscream, demanded. "Why didn't you say something?"
Confusion colored Prime's voice, angled his optic ridges. "What?"
"Your age!" Starscream snarled at him, yanking his hands free to smack Prime again. "And that you'd never interfaced before!" Primus around them, he didn't deserve to be someone's first interface!
"Oh, that." Prime scrubbed his face with his hands, obviously trying to force himself fully online. "Didn't seem relevant. And I'm not that young."
"Didn't seem-! Primus!" Starscream fell back to sit on the berth, scrubbing his own face and wrapping his hands around his cranial vents to tug gently. "Of course it was relevant, you underclocked idiot!"
Prime levered himself up, arms draped over bent knees. "Why?"
Starscream peered at him and saw nothing in those bright optics but genuine curiosity. "It just is!"
Prime cocked his head, mulling over his words. "No, sorry, I still don't understand."
"Agh" Primus, he could be so slow! "I'm not anyone's idea of a first interface!"
That seemed to startle Prime; the mech blinked, optics dimming before flaring brighter. "Why not?" And silenced Starscream's burgeoning retort with a soft kiss, electricity dancing along their mouth components. "I enjoyed it."
Gentle fingers traced his shoulder vents as he huffed and shoved at Prime's windshields, trying to push the other mech away but Prime resisted and he might as well have been trying to lift Nemesis.
Prime broke the kiss with a soft static crackle, mouth racing along Starscream's jaw to neck. Prime's voice vibrated along the cables he was gently biting. "You enjoyed it." Large hands smoothed down his flanks, tracing seams, tugging him to straddle Prime's lap. "You were an excellent teacher." Those hands moved to his wings, tracing his markings, gently manipulating air flaps; proving that he had been paying close attention before.
Starscream's head fell back, allowing Prime better access and he responded by nuzzling the underside. Giving in to the inevitable, Starscream traced along the edges of Prime's windscreens until his found the wipers. Gentle pinches had Prime's engine revving. Beneath him, he could feel Prime's spike stiffening against his port.
"Idiot." It wasn't the insult Starscream had intended. Prime's only response was a distracted "Uh-huh."
Firm hands on his back helped steady him as he rose, guiding him onto Prime's spike as he fell. Prime shuddered against him, head falling back, optics shuttering. He shuddered back, valve flexing around Prime as he reveled in the stretch as he adjusted to the girth.
"Ah, Star-!" Prime thrust against him, energy fields shifting rapidly.
Starscream forced himself still, to ride Prime's thrusts in such a way as to reduce their pleasure. "Ah, ah, Prime!" he chided, voice staticky with desire. "No overloading just yet."
Reaching up to trace Prime's antennae, smirking at the hiss of pleasure, Starscream continued. "If I'm going to teach, you're going to learn." Prime shuddered, likely in reaction to both his words and the flex/pelvic twist Starscream did. "First lesson: it's better if you wait."
Smirking at the growl of Prime's engine, Starscream synced his energy fields to Prime's. This, he thought, was going to be a wonderfully long night.
Singin’ in the Rain
Rating: NC-17
"I can clean myself, Starscream." Statement of fact, Prime reached over to activate the washrack. Starscream watched him set the temperature, back to him. "I've been doing it for vorns."
"True." Oh, he was such an innocent youngling! "But have you ever had anyone scrub your back?" And that was such an inviting purr, promising aallll sorts of things. Starscream was rather proud of himself for managing.
Prime turned to look at him, puzzled, optics flickering along Starscream, from his face to the brush he held and back again. "No," he said slowly. "I don't think I have."
"Mm. Want me to?" he tapped the brush against his hand.
Prime finally got it; he straightened, optics flickering. "Yes. Please."
He really should take pictures of how Prime looked glistening with cleansers; he'd make a fortune. Taking a moment to admire, and save a few images, for posterity of course, Starscream set to cleaning the filthy Autobot. "Gah. What did you do? Dive into that slag heap?"
"Compost pile." Prime leaned against the brush. "And yes, I did. It was either dive or be shot." He retracted his battlemask, ducking his head under the fall.
"Hmph." It was the work of moments to get the muck off Prime's form. Getting it out of his joints took longer. That ended with him on his knees in front on Prime.
"Next lesson." He purred. "Washracks are for more than cleansing." He leaned forward to nuzzle at Prime's panel, fingers tracing behind his knee. He’d taken to teaching Prime the intricacies of interfacing with gusto over the last orns and Prime had proven to be an adept student.
Prime stumbled but quickly recovered, legs spreading for balance. "R-right." His panel retracted and Starscream mouthed the extending spike, drawing it in to curl his glossa around the tip. They weren't built for fellatio, which was a slagging shame; the humans in the vids looked like they were having the time of their life.
.
Ah, well.
Prime's engine was rumbling and he had locked his knee joints by the time Starscream left his stiff spike to glide up his front. Prime wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a kiss that sizzled along the cleansers cascading down them. Starscream's turbines whirred and his wings fluttered. Prime had really gotten good at kissing, Starscream shuddered, and manipulating sensitive points.
Returning the favor, Starscream demonstrated the best way to utilize streaming cleansers to enhance interface. Prime, quick learner he was, soon had his systems on an uproar.
And him pressed against the wall. Starscream stiffened, fighting the urge to bolt; this had been one of Megatron's favorite positions, his bulk holding Starscream captive. Prime backed off a little, so his weight didn’t press so firmly and murmured in his audio, hands smoothing down his flank, against his wings. He had never asked why Starscream reacted the way he sometimes did but he was smart enough to have figured out the basics.
Shoving unpleasant memories of past interfaces into his memory banks, Starscream concentrated on new, much, much more pleasant ones. Fingering Prime's grill, touch firm enough not to tickle, Starscream focused on the present. Primus, but Optimus was getting good at this! Wrapping his arms around Prime's neck, Starscream kissed him, extending his glossa to tease at Prime’s. A quick jump and he had his legs wrapped around Prime's sleek waist. And large hands wrapped around his aft.
Turbines revving, Starscream pressed harder against Prime, rubbing his leaking port against Prime's spike.
"Ah, Primus!" Starscream moaned, loving the way Prime lifted him, the way he slowly pressed his spike into his port. Megatron was rarely gentle and never slow.
Fully seated, Prime leaned against him, pressing him into the wall as he desperately cycled his cooling systems and energy fields. Curling his hands around Prime's helm, Starscream played with his antennae, hips shifting in involuntary movements. Prime needed a little time, after full penetration, and he did so love having his antennae played with. Leaning into Starscream's hands, optics shuttered, Prime started a slow rhythm. Bracing his shoulders against the wall, Starscream returned the motions as best he was able. The position was awkward...
... And Prime was such a delectable sight; lines of his face curved by concentration and pleasure, energy fields scintillating with desire, cascading cleaners gleaming over his sleek shell. Small lightening crackled over his dermis, scattering in the cleansers.
And flowing around the split forming in his chest plates. Prime's spark shown thought the growing gap, the energies of it surging through his fields and into Starscream.
"P-prime! " He gasped, "What are you doing?!"
Prime nuzzled under his chin, hands gliding up his back, pressing against the conjunction of wing and back armor. "Please." he murmured, voice lower than his default range. "Please, Star."
Primus, he wanted to! Vocalizer fritzing, Starscream tried to protest. "N-no."
"Please, Star." he repeated, a hand gliding down his back to where they were joined. "Teach me this."
"I-I cann'ttt" he shuddered at the sensation of Prime pressing a fingertip against the sensitive rim of his valve. "Nne-ever sspar-rked- " his vocalizer failed, cutting him off with a squeal. He’d never sparked with anyone but Megatron after his mate died.
"So we learn together." Prime sounded so sure, so innocent; he had no clue what one mech could do to another. "Please, Starscream."
"Aahh>" Spark energy surged through him, making his own spark throbbing it's casing. Giving into the inevitable, Starscream let his armor retract, revealing his spark. Prime all but howled as their sparks connected and twined energies. Systems spiking high, they lost themselves in the flow of thoughts and memories that accompanied those energies. Starscream was dimly aware of the sound of their shells grinding together, of his back striking the wall hard enough to dent.
Primus, so young! He lived Prime's memories like they were his own, knew Prime was experiencing the same; he sent an incoherent thought along their connection, a complex construct of apology/shame. His recent history was nothing to be proud of; his existence as Megatron's whipping boy, his anger, his hatred of everything, everyone not experiencing the same.
Prime sent back a thought; admiration/pride/love/regret, accompanied with memories of his better moments, his triumphs. Overload struck, crackling through circuits, racing through his neural net. His spark surged, sending energy to Prime, who cried out as he overloaded. His spark sent an answering surge, triggering a smaller overload. And another surge of spark energy.
They reciprocated several times, each smaller than the first, until Starscream was vaguely aware he was moving. The world fluctuated, then darkened, spiraling closed on Prime ecstatic face.
------
Starscream onlined slowly, feeling like the third orn of a two orn pass.; systems wonderfully sluggish, shell aching pleasantly. Processors fragged. Limbs weak as he tried to move. Only to discover Prime was laying on him. They had slid down the wall, landing with Starscream on the bottom and Prime between his legs and on his right side. Offline.
"Good Primus." he slurred dazedly. "Ow." Prime was lying on his right wing, pressing it into the grates. Thankfully the washrack had shut off, he was staring right up into the nozzles.
"Prime." He jogged his arm, hoping to wake the heavier mech. "Optimus!" He lifted his shoulder. "Ow! Slaggit!" Not that he hurt much. Golden Primus on his pink pogo stick, he hoped Optimus wasn't dead; he'd forgotten how bot-fragging, delicious spark-merging felt.
He lifted his free hand, clumsily banging it against Prime's helm; he'd also forgotten how limp you were after a really good merge. He definitely wasn't going to be moving anytime soon; he could barely move Prime on a good day. Not that it hadn't turned out to be a great day....
He shoved at Prime’s shoulder, managing to rock the larger mech slightly. The only thing that garnered was the knowledge Prime’s spark chamber and panel had closed. "Younglings!" he grumped. No, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, not until Prime onlined. Sometime tomorrow.
"Y'all done in here?" Wonderful. They had company. Jazz poked his head into the washrack, grinning widely.
"What does it look like?" He snarled. Or tried to.
"A good, old-fashioned interfacing." Oh, goody, the slagger could get even more cheerful. "Need some help?"
"No." He flexed his shoulder. "Yes, slaggit."
Jazz, still grinning, gestured to somebody outside the room then entered. Prowl followed, face carefully blank. Oh, joyous day.
"Careful, you underclocked mudsluggers!" They rolled Prime off his wing, Jazz leaving his leader to Prowl while he pulled Starscream to his feet and left him leaning against the wall.
"Stay there, 'til you get some hydraulic fluid back in your knee joints."
Starscream snarled at him, settling in to watch them lift Prime. It was mildly hilarious; Prime was half-again their size and limp as an empty fuel pipe. They managed, Jazz taking Prime's shoulders while Prowl lifted his legs. "After you." Prowl’s vocalizer did work after all.
Raising an optic ridge at the calm tone, Starscream drawled. "It speaks." He needed to brace an arm against the wall for balance and his knee joints didn't want to support his weight, but he managed to make it to Prime's quarters. Prowl's calm mask slipped a bit at the ease Starscream entered the entry code and that kept him going long enough to collapse into the desk chair.
And nowhere enough to keep him from snarking at the difficulty they had maneuvering Prime's bulk onto the recharge berth.
"Better take him off the duty roster tomorrow." He remarked. "Unless you prefer to have him working with a half-functioning processor?" A subtle jab, since only the post-majority had that much problem after spark-merging. These two had to know how slagging young their adored leader was.
"Already done." Jazz nodded at Prowl. "Prowler saw the two a'you going into the washrack and put two and two together."
They arranged Prime comfortably and left. Or started to. Prowl stopped next to Starscream, gazing down on him. Starscream gazed back, optic ridge raised mockingly. Finally, Prowl spoke. "He's young, yes. And we ask much." Prowl paused, glancing over at Jazz by the closed door. "It's good to see him with someone. Even if they're a former Decepticon."
Raising his other optic ridge, Starscream watched them leave. After the door closed, he levered himself out of the chair and over to the berth. All but falling into it, he maneuvered himself so he was lying partially on the Autobot. "Looks like I got permission from daddy." He patted the broad chestplate and started the routines for recharging.
Slag him flying, he forgot to tell them to take him off the duty roster.
Wild Thing, you make my spark sing
Rating: NC-17
Starscream cycled his cooling systems faster, writhing against the top of the recharge berth. He hated it when this happened; why did a non-organic lifeform go into heat?!
But he did- Megatron had made sure he had the full complement to go with his port. Pit, he could even create a spark. And since he didn't have the corresponding spike, he was, technically, a femme.
Lovely thought, that.
He grit his denta at the surge of heat that rampaged through his systems. He was stuck like this until it passed, which took only, oh, nine orns or until he interfaced.
His optics opened at that thought. Interfacing. He'd bet Sideswipe's stash of high-grade that Prime would be willing. Okay, how to get him here, no, best go to him. Any vocalizations on his part would definitely indicate state and he didn't want to scare the mech off or get Ratchet sent to his quarters.
Ookayy... Where would Prime be now? A check of his internal chronometer told him... not a fragging thing. If the Pit-slagged thing had a dial it would be spinning. Climbing off the berth with a growl, Starscream stalked to his computer. A few pokes, oh he had to watch his thoughts, and he had the time. Prime would be, a quick consult of his memory, in his office. Which was, for some unknown reason, at the aft end of a long corridor. With a door that locked.
That thought perked him up and he was almost skipping as he left his quarters. He received a few odd looks, possibly because there was a definite bounce in his step, but no comments. Lust rampaged through his systems, making it hard to concentrate. A few of the mechs he passed made his port itch but he kept going.
Optimus Prime was what he really wanted. And by Primus, he possessed enough self-control to get the one he wanted.
The lust ramped up as he neared Prime's door, open to all and leaking voices into the corridor. Ratchet and Ironhide. Ooh, Ironhide had a spike and Starscream entertained the thought of a threesome while he waited for them to leave. Ironhide passed him with barely a glance but Ratchet did a double-take. He smirking at the CMO before sailing into Prime's office. He thought he saw an answering smirk. And it wasn't him who locked the door. Heh.
Prime was at his desk, deep into whatever was the datapad he was holding. "PrriIimme..." he sing-songed.
Prime looked up with a start. "Starscream!" Bright optics ran up and down his form. "Are you all right?"
"Never better." He purred. Stalking forward, he leaned over the desk. Concern dimmed Prime's optics, stiffened his shoulders. Delightful. "Need help with a few things."
"What..things?" Concern was transforming into nervousness. Prime's optics focused over his shoulder, no doubt at the door. They widened wonderfully when he noticed the lock. "Why did you lock the door?"
"Mmn. Didn't. That was Ratchet." He got a knee up on the desk.
Prime watched him crawl across the desk, datapad slipping from his hand to the surface with a small clatter. “Why would Ratchet lock the door?”
“Dunno, probably to make sure we weren’t disturbed.” Prime’s optics widened further, his hand twitching, wanting to unspace his weapon no doubt. "Wrong weapon, there, Optimus."
And pounced. The chair toppled with a clang, Optimus with an exclamation. And a surprisingly foul curse. "Language!" he laughed. He hadn’t thought Titanium-pure Prime knew that kind of language! Ooo! He was on top! A shove moved the chair out of the way and he settled more comfortably on Prime. Who caught his hands as they stroked along his chestplate. "Hey!" he pouted. "Leggo!"
"What are you doing?" Oh, his 'I'm in charge' voice. Starscream wriggled, port starting to leak lubricant.
"What's it look like?" He answered cheerfully. "Leggo, it'll be a lot more fun that way."
"Starscream." Now the 'Leader-glare'. Made his systems tingle.
Starscream sight, rolling his optics. "I'm in heat. Help a mech out, willya?" He thought a moment. "No, wait, don't have a spike." He focused on Prime again. "Help a femme out?" he grinned.
Prime was gaping at him, he knew. Pulling his hands out of surprise slackened grip, Starscream put them on Prime's helm, placing the fingers juusst so... "Yes!" he crowed. Fragging emergency release for his mask was slagging hard to find. Yup, definitely gaping.
And getting interested. Starscream could feel his panel locks releasing but not retracting. A tap under Prime's chin closed his mouth and he traced his lip components, such a lovely, small mouth. "Got a better use for this." Rocking his hips, he felt Prime's panel retract. "And that."
Prime's flailing hands settled on his thighs. "You're in heat." Betcha Prime was going for a flatter tone than that.
"Yup."
"And you want me to help." Oh, nice little engine rev.
"Yup again." He rocked his hips, grinding his valve against Prime's open panel, oscillating his energy fields to twine with Prime’s. That got another rev and Prime's optics brightened. Large hands stroked up his thighs, then back down to tease at his knee joints.
"Mmn, nice." Starscream returned the favor, running a finger along Prime's windscreens before toying with the wipers. Prime hissed softly, spike starting to extend and stiffen. Rocking his hips, small movements that rubbed his port over that delicate part, Starscream moaned. Prime's hands traced his thighs and slid under the pelvic joints to stimulate the cabling. Bracing himself on Optimus' chest, Starscream lifted then sank back down, impaling himself and throwing his head back at the sensation. Small keen from Optimus, the feeling of shifting behind him and Prime thrust up.
"Ah, Primus!" Starscream thrust back, rocking, optics shuttering at the sensations. Prime was getting good at this. Energy fields danced along his shell, intertwined with his own. Hands skated along his armor, dipping into seams. "Pit! Harder!"
A loud growl from Prime's engine and the world revolved. A blink and his optics focused, seeing ugly orange behind Prime's helm. Smart bot. Starscream wrapped his arms around Prime's shoulders, such lovely, strong things to hold on to!, and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Prime moaned, glossa slicking out to trace his denta. Wrapping his legs around Prime, pulling him close, Starscream got those long legs under his aft.
Perfect for thrusting.
Starscream keened, overload building. "Ah, Primus! Prime!" His vocalizer stuttered as his armor retracted. He felt Prime's armor shift and then spark energy coruscated through his energy fields. "Optimus!"
Prime's engine growled, vibrating against him. Prime fluctuated his energy fields just the way he liked, fingers sliding into a particular seam...
He overloaded with a shriek, arching into Prime, shrieking again when Prime overloaded. Setting off another overload, which set Prime off again, making his systems surge hard enough to jumble his processors but not overload. “Agk.”
Cooling systems working overtime, energy crackling over his dermis, Starscream held Prime close, accepting his kiss with lazy affection. "Very nice," he managed to murmur.
"That was." Prime's voice in his audios made him shudder, lust rising once more. He lazily rocked on the spike still in him, bringing Prime's head up sharp, optics bright with surprise.
"Again?!"
"Again." he confirmed. Toying with Prime's antennae, he continued. "This may take while. You're young, keep up."
Prime cycled his vents hard before pulling off, and out, of Starscream. "Hey!" the world revolved again and when it stabilized, he was head down over Prime's shoulder and staring at his aft. "Oh, I like the view."
"You would." Careful maneuvering had them out the door and moving down the corridor, despite his wings and Prime’s unsteady gate. "I need refueling. And so do you."
"Okay." Younglings needed their energon. "Just as long as we pick up where we left off."
All that he wants is another baby.
Rating: R for the first bit.
Orns later and Starscream was inspecting himself in front of the mirror. Arms wrapped around his waist as Optimus fit himself along his back. Blue hands traced over his cockpit.
"It's too early to see anything yet."
"I know." He leaned into the embrace. Fragging Megatron, giving him a growth-chamber- which fortunately had been the final upgrade and in place for a short while before they parted ways. The thought of having Megatron's sparkling made his systems stutter and cooling systems go into overdrive. Gah!
Not quite the same way Optimus nuzzling his cranial vents did. He tilted his head for better access, spreading his legs to let Optimus cup the panel over his valve. He hummed softly at the sensation of denta on his neck cables. "You have a meeting in ten breems."
"I do." Those clever fingers traced his panel, tapping gently. A soft click and growing pressure at his back let him know how worried Prime was to make that meeting.
"I though I was the one who had the increased libido." Amusement colored his voice. Reaching backwards, he ran fingers over Prime's top antennae.
"You are. I'm having sympathy vibes."
Starscream laughed, and was still laughing when Optimus laid him against the berth. Facedown, aft up, he snickered into the smooth metal. Fingers tapped his panel, stroking, and he obliged. If Prime wanted to be late, who was he to argue?
Clever glossa around his port, lapping the lubricant starting to leak and clever fingers playing with the back of his knee. "Oh, yess..."
Prime hummed, the sound vibrating against the sensitive rim of his port. He wriggled, trying to get more of that sensation. Prime obliged with fingers in some sensitive seams, glossa flicking into his port. "Ah!"
Wonderful moments of that, leaving him sensitized, then Prime left. Soft keen of loss turned to a cry as Optimus slowly sheathed himself. He started slow too, but Starscream used every trick he knew to change that; Prime had taken him hard when he was in heat, had handled him forcefully, and he had loved it. Had wanted more. Which concerned him for a while- did he really want the treatment Megatron had subjected him to for so many vorns? But no, he just wanted to be handled that way by Optimus Prime. Nobody else.
"Optimus!" Hands on Starscream's hips, Prime drove him to overload without fanfare. No spark-merging either. Which was fine with him, since he had places he needed to be shortly as well. Optimus overloaded with a moan the same time Starscream did. Leaning over Starscream's back, hands on either side of his wings, Prime nuzzled his back up to his cranial vents. "Shower."
"Shower," he agreed.
A quick trip to their private washrack, lazy kisses and caresses, and then they were off to their respective appointments.
And almost on time.
-------
Starscream found 'eating' to be a strange thing, he'd only ever ingested energon and the like, but the sparkling he was growing needed materials, or else it would leech what it needed from his own systems.
It was also strange to have something growing inside of him, like an organic. At first, the sparkling had been tucked up close to his spark chamber and could be seen but had eventually moved down into his abdomen. He had eventually started to bulge as the sparkling grew, interfering in his ability to transform.
But not fly. Thank Primus. He was slower in mech form but he could still take to the sky. Prime insisted the Aerialbots accompany him, for protection from Decepticons he said. His range was limited, both for protection and by his physical state, and he didn’t venture far from base.
His physical state, as things progressed, required a certain amount of creativity in some particular areas. Especially in interfacing and it was fun to see what Prime’s inventive and dirty mind could come up with. Mech was slagging shy in public but in private? There wasn't a whole lot he wasn't willing to try at least twice. First time see if he liked it, second to see if he was doing it right.
So far, he was the only to be fully modified so and he had been surprised to discover himself in conversation with Michaela, both bitching about the changes spark-carrying was making to their bodies. He’d won the argument, stating that while she was expected to deliver in nine months, he still had another three years to go.
And Prime had been asking some interesting question, leading Starscream to think his bondmate was considering having a port and growth-chamber installed. He did like running his hands over Starscream’s expanding abdomen when they lay together.
The half-clocked groundslugger. Although, since mating cycles tended to synchronize, having them both in heat would be entertaining as the Pit.
------
'Birth' was a relatively easy affair. The sparkling had developed on schedule and had indicated readiness for onlining in a timely fashion, in the small hours of their recharge cycle, of course, and Ratchet was notified and waiting when they arrived in the repair bay. Starscream had been leaning against Optimus, since the sparkling kept shifting, hitting internals that didn't like being hit and were voicing their complaints by fritzing out.
The removal of his abdominal armor was complicated by his cockpit but Ratchet had earned his reputation as a repair mech and hadn’t slowed down much and swiftly exposed the growth chamber. It had irised open not long afterwards, revealing the sparkling inside. A femme, with his wings and Prime's colors and antennae. Ratchet had given her a quick rinse, making her chirr in anger, and handed her to him. Prime had leaned against his bay, large finger tracing over her small helm, almost afraid to touch. "So small." he'd whispered.
He'd smiled at his bondmate's awed look, turning his smile on the sparkling he replied. "So were you." A pause. "Probably."
He distracted himself from the removal of the chamber by inspecting his creation; the chamber had to be removed if he ever wanted to transform again. He'd grow another one when needed. If needed. She was perfect, dark red and blue with golden optics.
This wasn't his lost sparkling, Prime wasn't his first bondmate, but they would do.
They would most definitely do.
Take me home.
Rating: G
This one got plotty.
Vorns later, Starscream was guiding Optimus through the process. The mech had gone through with the upgrades and he'd sparked in his first heat. It had been interesting, dealing with Optimus in that state. Mech had nearly interfaced with him in the main rec room before Starscream had realized what was going on but fortunately, the room was mostly empty and he'd gotten Optimus out of there fast enough that nobody noticed what was happening.
Spiking Optimus was still something he was getting used to; Pit, having a spike was something he was still getting used to.
But the sight of Optimus quickening was an appealing one; he'd taken advantage of the recording equipment leftover from his exploration days and had many gigs of him progressing through growing a sparkling. Optimus glowed, especially towards the end. Abdomen rounded, too cleanly built to add that kind of mass with any grace, he seemed more relaxed as the sparkling grew. Starscream had heard that some human women were happiest while creating a sparkling, apparently so were some mechs.
And they didn't have to worry about the Matrix of Leadership warping the sparkling's development. Megatron had finally decided to grow a backbone and attacked the Autobots with vigor and some planning well before the upgrades. Hijacking a supply shuttle, the Decepticons had laid siege to the city. That siege had ended with Optimus’ arrival and Megatron’s defeat at his hands; Optimus had been badly damaged in the process and, feeling his death approaching, had handed over the Matrix before slipping into stasis lock. The memory of feeling his spark fail was locked deep in Starscream’s memory, allowed out only when he wasn’t paying attention. Time would fade the memories and he could file them next to the ones of his other sparkmate and encrypt them into near non-existence.
Of all mechs, Hot Rod had proven worthiest and became Prime. He had proven himself a good leader, inexperienced but learning quickly, and finally growing up a little. The Decepticons had fractured with Megatron’s defeat and a good many of them had denounced their allegiances. Megatron’s army had fallen with him and were no more than threat than any pirate.
But Optimus had survived, although there were consequences. It had taken megacycles before he could stay online longer than a few breems and so it had taken a while for anyone to realize his disorientation partly stemmed from memory loss. His memories of his time as Prime were blurred at best and completely gone at worst. Starscream had inquired, demanded, hacked files, whatever he’d had to do to find information and discovered that Optimus was the first Prime to survive surrendering the Matrix and as a consequence no one knew what happened to them afterwards. Fortunately, his memory had improved, if one could call it that, as he regained strength.
He recognized people he knew well but didn't always remember where from or why. Their sparkbond ensured he remembered Starscream and their creation but parts were missing. He remembered Starsinger's onlining but not the first time they interfaced. Their sparkbonding was vague and he had been unsure on some details. His memories of Starsinger’s growth and early years were spotty but he remembered wanting to be able to create life. Ratchet had made him wait for a vorn, to ensure his return to full strength before performing the upgrades.
He was less sure of himself, shyer, but still the loving sparkmate Starscream had grown used to; even if interfacing with him the first time afterwards was like the beginning of their relationship. He had gone back to his old name, Optronix, and didn’t answer to Optimus. Most of the time he didn’t even remember he had been Optimus. It had been difficult at first but they’d adjusted.
Optimus was also less educated than anyone knew. Starscream hadn't realized how much he had been relying on the knowledge stored in the Matrix and on his subordinates. He had been a worker, a dock mech, before being made Prime and had few opportunities for education. Especially when one considered he'd barely reached majority before the burnouts on the council had thrown the Matrix at him. The over-clocked, bot-fragging, knockoffs hadn’t seen the point in any further education of their Prime beyond that which was needed to govern the masses and lead them in battle.
But Opti- Optronix had a sharp mind, that hadn't changed, and learned quickly. Rodimus Prime, Starscream snorted, a sillier name than Optimus Prime, had realized what was going on and declared that Optimus had served as Prime well and deserved a release from the burdens of command. He was not to consulted as any sort of advisor.
There were those who refused to believe he had been diminished, wasn't the Prime they had known and it had caused problems. Soundwave had, surprisingly, turned out to be one of his supporters. Or not so surprisingly- some of Soundwave's cassettes were Optronix' developmental age and he had always been protective of any sparkling or youngling in his vicinity. Soundwave held no grudge for actions during the war, something Starscream wasn’t certain would happen if the situation had been different, and treated Optronix much like one of his own.
And was the one to discover Optronix had a talent for communication. He had picked up a language Soundwave had been trying to learn an idiom-ridden language belonging to an organic people with a fascinating biosphere, faster than Soundwave had. Soundwave had been delighted, none of his own creations had been interested in communication, and requested to take Optronix on as an apprentice.
Former Decepticon or not, Soundwave was one of the best in the field, even Blaster admitted that. It had taken hard work, Optronix didn’t have the background to understand the tech involved except on the most basic of levels, but he persevered. Starscream found himself subject to discussions about tech he didn’t fully understand, asked for advice regarding their workings, and forced to maneuver around disassembled devices scattered along the workbench in their small home lab. It reminded Starscream of his student days.
The party for Optronix’ graduation was already in the works, despite being some time off. Sideswipe, Jazz and Blaster were organizing it and Starscream had heard rumors of what they intended and what they had already gotten a hold of. He could already feel the overcharge headache.
He couldn’t wait. Especially since afterwards, Optronix was to join his team as comm. officer. The long-range exploration ship should be ready by the time he graduated and Starscream intended to get back among the stars where he belonged. Family standing beside him.
Author: Lurkerlynne
Pairing: Starscream/Optimus Prime, G1
Rating: See individual
Summary: A related series of ficlets, dealing with Starscream and Optimus Prime’s relationship. Um, I kinda skipped right to the smut and have no idea why Starscream is with the Autobots. Or how he ended up in OP’s quarters. This has absolutely nothing to do with Kite Strings and Sealing Compound, other than some common ideas.
Author Notes: Muse ambushed me about 10.30 last night and didn’t let go until 6 this morning. Hopefully, this means she’ll let me get to bed in a timely fashion now. Spell checked and self-betaed.
ETA: I despise Livejournal's interface. And I'm not to fond of mine, either- slagging thing kept dropping italics! Gah!
You have such a pretty little baby face
Rating: R
Prime was in recharge. Starscream snorted; the great and mighty leader of the Autobots, Megatron's archenemy, not only was inexperienced, not that much of a surprise, nobody that uptight could be getting it with any sort of regularity, but even so Prime shouldn't fall into recharge like a younglin-
Wait.
Starscream frowned, pushing himself up from where he had been laying cockpit to windscreen with the Autobot. Kneeling above Prime he inspected the revealed features; Prime’s mask did retract, satisfying his curiosity about that, and Prime had run lip components over Starscream's wings, his glossa over his port. Relaxed in recharge, Prime’s features showed none of the signs all Seibertonians did as they aged- worn components, small scratches, the subtle mismatches of repaired and replaced parts.
A 'baby face', he'd heard humans call youthful features. But that didn't seem quite right; the mask may have protected his face but something didn't add up.
Leaning back to kneel, Starscream inspected the recumbent Autobot. Optimus Prime was a beautiful specimen of a mech- long, clean lines, paintjob coordinated and well-maintained, grace and speed in everyday movements. Running his gaze, and hands, lightly so not to wake, down that form, Starscream scrutinized everything he saw. Broad shoulders and gleaming smokestacks, windscreens with their sensitive wipers, ticklish grill, pelvic armor and the panel that concealed and protected Prime's spike.
Starscream felt his turbines rev a little at the thought of that spike; a piece with the rest of Prime, long and pleasantly bulky, it was marvelously shaped with wonderfully spaced ribbing. It had fit his port like they had been designed to interlock, stretching the walls of his valve and stimulating the sensors- Starscream hummed as his systems surged.
Prime had been sensitive to the lightest touch, reactive to the smallest change in energy fields. He had nearly overloaded when Starscream had ascended and surrounded his spike, systems surging, engine revving, vocalizer breaking into static. Prime's large hands had closed tight around Starscream's hips as Prime arched, fighting not to overload. Starscream had encouraged this by fluctuating his energy fields in a way he knew was unpleasant. It had worked, knocking Prime down, leaving him cycling his cooling systems fast, revving his engine hard.
Prime had fought his inexperience and the interface had led to an overload that still made his systems tingle.
Tracing around the panel, idly considering waking Prime for another round, Starscream wondered who installed the spike; before the war had begun, an exploratory team had discovered a world with mechanical life, the result of long-past colony attempts, that had acquired organic reproductive organs, even reproduced that way. That had resulted in many Seibertronians upgrading themselves, mostly for entertainment.
At first anyway. In-body spark-generation was more efficient and safer than building a form and implanting a spark. The sparkling onlined with more knowledge and skill, as well as survived their early years with less trouble. And they had the ability to grow by consuming the proper materials, just needed some help with the formatting. So Seibertronians started being built with the requisite parts and protocols.
Starscream had his port and accompanying programming installed on Megatron's orders, for his personal pleasure.
There was a small click and a soft whirr as Prime's panel retracted, revealing his spike, still in its retraced form. Soft, teasing touches got it to extend and Starscream stroked his thumb along the posterior ridges, feeling it start to stiffen. Prime shifted, engine humming, but did not online.
Leaning closer, intending to slide his glossa along that tempting length, Starscream noticed the expert construction of the internal workings.
And the lack of marks indicating an upgrade. Straightening in shock, Starscream tried to wrap his processors around that fact. Lack of marks indicated Prime had been constructed with a spike, which meant, even if he had been one of the first to be so....
..Prime had reached his majority just as the war started. He had been made Prime not too long afterwards.
"Primus!" Starscream smacked his hand against Prime's chassis, waking him with a start. Blocking Prime's automatic grab, Starscream, demanded. "Why didn't you say something?"
Confusion colored Prime's voice, angled his optic ridges. "What?"
"Your age!" Starscream snarled at him, yanking his hands free to smack Prime again. "And that you'd never interfaced before!" Primus around them, he didn't deserve to be someone's first interface!
"Oh, that." Prime scrubbed his face with his hands, obviously trying to force himself fully online. "Didn't seem relevant. And I'm not that young."
"Didn't seem-! Primus!" Starscream fell back to sit on the berth, scrubbing his own face and wrapping his hands around his cranial vents to tug gently. "Of course it was relevant, you underclocked idiot!"
Prime levered himself up, arms draped over bent knees. "Why?"
Starscream peered at him and saw nothing in those bright optics but genuine curiosity. "It just is!"
Prime cocked his head, mulling over his words. "No, sorry, I still don't understand."
"Agh" Primus, he could be so slow! "I'm not anyone's idea of a first interface!"
That seemed to startle Prime; the mech blinked, optics dimming before flaring brighter. "Why not?" And silenced Starscream's burgeoning retort with a soft kiss, electricity dancing along their mouth components. "I enjoyed it."
Gentle fingers traced his shoulder vents as he huffed and shoved at Prime's windshields, trying to push the other mech away but Prime resisted and he might as well have been trying to lift Nemesis.
Prime broke the kiss with a soft static crackle, mouth racing along Starscream's jaw to neck. Prime's voice vibrated along the cables he was gently biting. "You enjoyed it." Large hands smoothed down his flanks, tracing seams, tugging him to straddle Prime's lap. "You were an excellent teacher." Those hands moved to his wings, tracing his markings, gently manipulating air flaps; proving that he had been paying close attention before.
Starscream's head fell back, allowing Prime better access and he responded by nuzzling the underside. Giving in to the inevitable, Starscream traced along the edges of Prime's windscreens until his found the wipers. Gentle pinches had Prime's engine revving. Beneath him, he could feel Prime's spike stiffening against his port.
"Idiot." It wasn't the insult Starscream had intended. Prime's only response was a distracted "Uh-huh."
Firm hands on his back helped steady him as he rose, guiding him onto Prime's spike as he fell. Prime shuddered against him, head falling back, optics shuttering. He shuddered back, valve flexing around Prime as he reveled in the stretch as he adjusted to the girth.
"Ah, Star-!" Prime thrust against him, energy fields shifting rapidly.
Starscream forced himself still, to ride Prime's thrusts in such a way as to reduce their pleasure. "Ah, ah, Prime!" he chided, voice staticky with desire. "No overloading just yet."
Reaching up to trace Prime's antennae, smirking at the hiss of pleasure, Starscream continued. "If I'm going to teach, you're going to learn." Prime shuddered, likely in reaction to both his words and the flex/pelvic twist Starscream did. "First lesson: it's better if you wait."
Smirking at the growl of Prime's engine, Starscream synced his energy fields to Prime's. This, he thought, was going to be a wonderfully long night.
Singin’ in the Rain
Rating: NC-17
"I can clean myself, Starscream." Statement of fact, Prime reached over to activate the washrack. Starscream watched him set the temperature, back to him. "I've been doing it for vorns."
"True." Oh, he was such an innocent youngling! "But have you ever had anyone scrub your back?" And that was such an inviting purr, promising aallll sorts of things. Starscream was rather proud of himself for managing.
Prime turned to look at him, puzzled, optics flickering along Starscream, from his face to the brush he held and back again. "No," he said slowly. "I don't think I have."
"Mm. Want me to?" he tapped the brush against his hand.
Prime finally got it; he straightened, optics flickering. "Yes. Please."
He really should take pictures of how Prime looked glistening with cleansers; he'd make a fortune. Taking a moment to admire, and save a few images, for posterity of course, Starscream set to cleaning the filthy Autobot. "Gah. What did you do? Dive into that slag heap?"
"Compost pile." Prime leaned against the brush. "And yes, I did. It was either dive or be shot." He retracted his battlemask, ducking his head under the fall.
"Hmph." It was the work of moments to get the muck off Prime's form. Getting it out of his joints took longer. That ended with him on his knees in front on Prime.
"Next lesson." He purred. "Washracks are for more than cleansing." He leaned forward to nuzzle at Prime's panel, fingers tracing behind his knee. He’d taken to teaching Prime the intricacies of interfacing with gusto over the last orns and Prime had proven to be an adept student.
Prime stumbled but quickly recovered, legs spreading for balance. "R-right." His panel retracted and Starscream mouthed the extending spike, drawing it in to curl his glossa around the tip. They weren't built for fellatio, which was a slagging shame; the humans in the vids looked like they were having the time of their life.
.
Ah, well.
Prime's engine was rumbling and he had locked his knee joints by the time Starscream left his stiff spike to glide up his front. Prime wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a kiss that sizzled along the cleansers cascading down them. Starscream's turbines whirred and his wings fluttered. Prime had really gotten good at kissing, Starscream shuddered, and manipulating sensitive points.
Returning the favor, Starscream demonstrated the best way to utilize streaming cleansers to enhance interface. Prime, quick learner he was, soon had his systems on an uproar.
And him pressed against the wall. Starscream stiffened, fighting the urge to bolt; this had been one of Megatron's favorite positions, his bulk holding Starscream captive. Prime backed off a little, so his weight didn’t press so firmly and murmured in his audio, hands smoothing down his flank, against his wings. He had never asked why Starscream reacted the way he sometimes did but he was smart enough to have figured out the basics.
Shoving unpleasant memories of past interfaces into his memory banks, Starscream concentrated on new, much, much more pleasant ones. Fingering Prime's grill, touch firm enough not to tickle, Starscream focused on the present. Primus, but Optimus was getting good at this! Wrapping his arms around Prime's neck, Starscream kissed him, extending his glossa to tease at Prime’s. A quick jump and he had his legs wrapped around Prime's sleek waist. And large hands wrapped around his aft.
Turbines revving, Starscream pressed harder against Prime, rubbing his leaking port against Prime's spike.
"Ah, Primus!" Starscream moaned, loving the way Prime lifted him, the way he slowly pressed his spike into his port. Megatron was rarely gentle and never slow.
Fully seated, Prime leaned against him, pressing him into the wall as he desperately cycled his cooling systems and energy fields. Curling his hands around Prime's helm, Starscream played with his antennae, hips shifting in involuntary movements. Prime needed a little time, after full penetration, and he did so love having his antennae played with. Leaning into Starscream's hands, optics shuttered, Prime started a slow rhythm. Bracing his shoulders against the wall, Starscream returned the motions as best he was able. The position was awkward...
... And Prime was such a delectable sight; lines of his face curved by concentration and pleasure, energy fields scintillating with desire, cascading cleaners gleaming over his sleek shell. Small lightening crackled over his dermis, scattering in the cleansers.
And flowing around the split forming in his chest plates. Prime's spark shown thought the growing gap, the energies of it surging through his fields and into Starscream.
"P-prime! " He gasped, "What are you doing?!"
Prime nuzzled under his chin, hands gliding up his back, pressing against the conjunction of wing and back armor. "Please." he murmured, voice lower than his default range. "Please, Star."
Primus, he wanted to! Vocalizer fritzing, Starscream tried to protest. "N-no."
"Please, Star." he repeated, a hand gliding down his back to where they were joined. "Teach me this."
"I-I cann'ttt" he shuddered at the sensation of Prime pressing a fingertip against the sensitive rim of his valve. "Nne-ever sspar-rked- " his vocalizer failed, cutting him off with a squeal. He’d never sparked with anyone but Megatron after his mate died.
"So we learn together." Prime sounded so sure, so innocent; he had no clue what one mech could do to another. "Please, Starscream."
"Aahh>" Spark energy surged through him, making his own spark throbbing it's casing. Giving into the inevitable, Starscream let his armor retract, revealing his spark. Prime all but howled as their sparks connected and twined energies. Systems spiking high, they lost themselves in the flow of thoughts and memories that accompanied those energies. Starscream was dimly aware of the sound of their shells grinding together, of his back striking the wall hard enough to dent.
Primus, so young! He lived Prime's memories like they were his own, knew Prime was experiencing the same; he sent an incoherent thought along their connection, a complex construct of apology/shame. His recent history was nothing to be proud of; his existence as Megatron's whipping boy, his anger, his hatred of everything, everyone not experiencing the same.
Prime sent back a thought; admiration/pride/love/regret, accompanied with memories of his better moments, his triumphs. Overload struck, crackling through circuits, racing through his neural net. His spark surged, sending energy to Prime, who cried out as he overloaded. His spark sent an answering surge, triggering a smaller overload. And another surge of spark energy.
They reciprocated several times, each smaller than the first, until Starscream was vaguely aware he was moving. The world fluctuated, then darkened, spiraling closed on Prime ecstatic face.
------
Starscream onlined slowly, feeling like the third orn of a two orn pass.; systems wonderfully sluggish, shell aching pleasantly. Processors fragged. Limbs weak as he tried to move. Only to discover Prime was laying on him. They had slid down the wall, landing with Starscream on the bottom and Prime between his legs and on his right side. Offline.
"Good Primus." he slurred dazedly. "Ow." Prime was lying on his right wing, pressing it into the grates. Thankfully the washrack had shut off, he was staring right up into the nozzles.
"Prime." He jogged his arm, hoping to wake the heavier mech. "Optimus!" He lifted his shoulder. "Ow! Slaggit!" Not that he hurt much. Golden Primus on his pink pogo stick, he hoped Optimus wasn't dead; he'd forgotten how bot-fragging, delicious spark-merging felt.
He lifted his free hand, clumsily banging it against Prime's helm; he'd also forgotten how limp you were after a really good merge. He definitely wasn't going to be moving anytime soon; he could barely move Prime on a good day. Not that it hadn't turned out to be a great day....
He shoved at Prime’s shoulder, managing to rock the larger mech slightly. The only thing that garnered was the knowledge Prime’s spark chamber and panel had closed. "Younglings!" he grumped. No, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, not until Prime onlined. Sometime tomorrow.
"Y'all done in here?" Wonderful. They had company. Jazz poked his head into the washrack, grinning widely.
"What does it look like?" He snarled. Or tried to.
"A good, old-fashioned interfacing." Oh, goody, the slagger could get even more cheerful. "Need some help?"
"No." He flexed his shoulder. "Yes, slaggit."
Jazz, still grinning, gestured to somebody outside the room then entered. Prowl followed, face carefully blank. Oh, joyous day.
"Careful, you underclocked mudsluggers!" They rolled Prime off his wing, Jazz leaving his leader to Prowl while he pulled Starscream to his feet and left him leaning against the wall.
"Stay there, 'til you get some hydraulic fluid back in your knee joints."
Starscream snarled at him, settling in to watch them lift Prime. It was mildly hilarious; Prime was half-again their size and limp as an empty fuel pipe. They managed, Jazz taking Prime's shoulders while Prowl lifted his legs. "After you." Prowl’s vocalizer did work after all.
Raising an optic ridge at the calm tone, Starscream drawled. "It speaks." He needed to brace an arm against the wall for balance and his knee joints didn't want to support his weight, but he managed to make it to Prime's quarters. Prowl's calm mask slipped a bit at the ease Starscream entered the entry code and that kept him going long enough to collapse into the desk chair.
And nowhere enough to keep him from snarking at the difficulty they had maneuvering Prime's bulk onto the recharge berth.
"Better take him off the duty roster tomorrow." He remarked. "Unless you prefer to have him working with a half-functioning processor?" A subtle jab, since only the post-majority had that much problem after spark-merging. These two had to know how slagging young their adored leader was.
"Already done." Jazz nodded at Prowl. "Prowler saw the two a'you going into the washrack and put two and two together."
They arranged Prime comfortably and left. Or started to. Prowl stopped next to Starscream, gazing down on him. Starscream gazed back, optic ridge raised mockingly. Finally, Prowl spoke. "He's young, yes. And we ask much." Prowl paused, glancing over at Jazz by the closed door. "It's good to see him with someone. Even if they're a former Decepticon."
Raising his other optic ridge, Starscream watched them leave. After the door closed, he levered himself out of the chair and over to the berth. All but falling into it, he maneuvered himself so he was lying partially on the Autobot. "Looks like I got permission from daddy." He patted the broad chestplate and started the routines for recharging.
Slag him flying, he forgot to tell them to take him off the duty roster.
Wild Thing, you make my spark sing
Rating: NC-17
Starscream cycled his cooling systems faster, writhing against the top of the recharge berth. He hated it when this happened; why did a non-organic lifeform go into heat?!
But he did- Megatron had made sure he had the full complement to go with his port. Pit, he could even create a spark. And since he didn't have the corresponding spike, he was, technically, a femme.
Lovely thought, that.
He grit his denta at the surge of heat that rampaged through his systems. He was stuck like this until it passed, which took only, oh, nine orns or until he interfaced.
His optics opened at that thought. Interfacing. He'd bet Sideswipe's stash of high-grade that Prime would be willing. Okay, how to get him here, no, best go to him. Any vocalizations on his part would definitely indicate state and he didn't want to scare the mech off or get Ratchet sent to his quarters.
Ookayy... Where would Prime be now? A check of his internal chronometer told him... not a fragging thing. If the Pit-slagged thing had a dial it would be spinning. Climbing off the berth with a growl, Starscream stalked to his computer. A few pokes, oh he had to watch his thoughts, and he had the time. Prime would be, a quick consult of his memory, in his office. Which was, for some unknown reason, at the aft end of a long corridor. With a door that locked.
That thought perked him up and he was almost skipping as he left his quarters. He received a few odd looks, possibly because there was a definite bounce in his step, but no comments. Lust rampaged through his systems, making it hard to concentrate. A few of the mechs he passed made his port itch but he kept going.
Optimus Prime was what he really wanted. And by Primus, he possessed enough self-control to get the one he wanted.
The lust ramped up as he neared Prime's door, open to all and leaking voices into the corridor. Ratchet and Ironhide. Ooh, Ironhide had a spike and Starscream entertained the thought of a threesome while he waited for them to leave. Ironhide passed him with barely a glance but Ratchet did a double-take. He smirking at the CMO before sailing into Prime's office. He thought he saw an answering smirk. And it wasn't him who locked the door. Heh.
Prime was at his desk, deep into whatever was the datapad he was holding. "PrriIimme..." he sing-songed.
Prime looked up with a start. "Starscream!" Bright optics ran up and down his form. "Are you all right?"
"Never better." He purred. Stalking forward, he leaned over the desk. Concern dimmed Prime's optics, stiffened his shoulders. Delightful. "Need help with a few things."
"What..things?" Concern was transforming into nervousness. Prime's optics focused over his shoulder, no doubt at the door. They widened wonderfully when he noticed the lock. "Why did you lock the door?"
"Mmn. Didn't. That was Ratchet." He got a knee up on the desk.
Prime watched him crawl across the desk, datapad slipping from his hand to the surface with a small clatter. “Why would Ratchet lock the door?”
“Dunno, probably to make sure we weren’t disturbed.” Prime’s optics widened further, his hand twitching, wanting to unspace his weapon no doubt. "Wrong weapon, there, Optimus."
And pounced. The chair toppled with a clang, Optimus with an exclamation. And a surprisingly foul curse. "Language!" he laughed. He hadn’t thought Titanium-pure Prime knew that kind of language! Ooo! He was on top! A shove moved the chair out of the way and he settled more comfortably on Prime. Who caught his hands as they stroked along his chestplate. "Hey!" he pouted. "Leggo!"
"What are you doing?" Oh, his 'I'm in charge' voice. Starscream wriggled, port starting to leak lubricant.
"What's it look like?" He answered cheerfully. "Leggo, it'll be a lot more fun that way."
"Starscream." Now the 'Leader-glare'. Made his systems tingle.
Starscream sight, rolling his optics. "I'm in heat. Help a mech out, willya?" He thought a moment. "No, wait, don't have a spike." He focused on Prime again. "Help a femme out?" he grinned.
Prime was gaping at him, he knew. Pulling his hands out of surprise slackened grip, Starscream put them on Prime's helm, placing the fingers juusst so... "Yes!" he crowed. Fragging emergency release for his mask was slagging hard to find. Yup, definitely gaping.
And getting interested. Starscream could feel his panel locks releasing but not retracting. A tap under Prime's chin closed his mouth and he traced his lip components, such a lovely, small mouth. "Got a better use for this." Rocking his hips, he felt Prime's panel retract. "And that."
Prime's flailing hands settled on his thighs. "You're in heat." Betcha Prime was going for a flatter tone than that.
"Yup."
"And you want me to help." Oh, nice little engine rev.
"Yup again." He rocked his hips, grinding his valve against Prime's open panel, oscillating his energy fields to twine with Prime’s. That got another rev and Prime's optics brightened. Large hands stroked up his thighs, then back down to tease at his knee joints.
"Mmn, nice." Starscream returned the favor, running a finger along Prime's windscreens before toying with the wipers. Prime hissed softly, spike starting to extend and stiffen. Rocking his hips, small movements that rubbed his port over that delicate part, Starscream moaned. Prime's hands traced his thighs and slid under the pelvic joints to stimulate the cabling. Bracing himself on Optimus' chest, Starscream lifted then sank back down, impaling himself and throwing his head back at the sensation. Small keen from Optimus, the feeling of shifting behind him and Prime thrust up.
"Ah, Primus!" Starscream thrust back, rocking, optics shuttering at the sensations. Prime was getting good at this. Energy fields danced along his shell, intertwined with his own. Hands skated along his armor, dipping into seams. "Pit! Harder!"
A loud growl from Prime's engine and the world revolved. A blink and his optics focused, seeing ugly orange behind Prime's helm. Smart bot. Starscream wrapped his arms around Prime's shoulders, such lovely, strong things to hold on to!, and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Prime moaned, glossa slicking out to trace his denta. Wrapping his legs around Prime, pulling him close, Starscream got those long legs under his aft.
Perfect for thrusting.
Starscream keened, overload building. "Ah, Primus! Prime!" His vocalizer stuttered as his armor retracted. He felt Prime's armor shift and then spark energy coruscated through his energy fields. "Optimus!"
Prime's engine growled, vibrating against him. Prime fluctuated his energy fields just the way he liked, fingers sliding into a particular seam...
He overloaded with a shriek, arching into Prime, shrieking again when Prime overloaded. Setting off another overload, which set Prime off again, making his systems surge hard enough to jumble his processors but not overload. “Agk.”
Cooling systems working overtime, energy crackling over his dermis, Starscream held Prime close, accepting his kiss with lazy affection. "Very nice," he managed to murmur.
"That was." Prime's voice in his audios made him shudder, lust rising once more. He lazily rocked on the spike still in him, bringing Prime's head up sharp, optics bright with surprise.
"Again?!"
"Again." he confirmed. Toying with Prime's antennae, he continued. "This may take while. You're young, keep up."
Prime cycled his vents hard before pulling off, and out, of Starscream. "Hey!" the world revolved again and when it stabilized, he was head down over Prime's shoulder and staring at his aft. "Oh, I like the view."
"You would." Careful maneuvering had them out the door and moving down the corridor, despite his wings and Prime’s unsteady gate. "I need refueling. And so do you."
"Okay." Younglings needed their energon. "Just as long as we pick up where we left off."
All that he wants is another baby.
Rating: R for the first bit.
Orns later and Starscream was inspecting himself in front of the mirror. Arms wrapped around his waist as Optimus fit himself along his back. Blue hands traced over his cockpit.
"It's too early to see anything yet."
"I know." He leaned into the embrace. Fragging Megatron, giving him a growth-chamber- which fortunately had been the final upgrade and in place for a short while before they parted ways. The thought of having Megatron's sparkling made his systems stutter and cooling systems go into overdrive. Gah!
Not quite the same way Optimus nuzzling his cranial vents did. He tilted his head for better access, spreading his legs to let Optimus cup the panel over his valve. He hummed softly at the sensation of denta on his neck cables. "You have a meeting in ten breems."
"I do." Those clever fingers traced his panel, tapping gently. A soft click and growing pressure at his back let him know how worried Prime was to make that meeting.
"I though I was the one who had the increased libido." Amusement colored his voice. Reaching backwards, he ran fingers over Prime's top antennae.
"You are. I'm having sympathy vibes."
Starscream laughed, and was still laughing when Optimus laid him against the berth. Facedown, aft up, he snickered into the smooth metal. Fingers tapped his panel, stroking, and he obliged. If Prime wanted to be late, who was he to argue?
Clever glossa around his port, lapping the lubricant starting to leak and clever fingers playing with the back of his knee. "Oh, yess..."
Prime hummed, the sound vibrating against the sensitive rim of his port. He wriggled, trying to get more of that sensation. Prime obliged with fingers in some sensitive seams, glossa flicking into his port. "Ah!"
Wonderful moments of that, leaving him sensitized, then Prime left. Soft keen of loss turned to a cry as Optimus slowly sheathed himself. He started slow too, but Starscream used every trick he knew to change that; Prime had taken him hard when he was in heat, had handled him forcefully, and he had loved it. Had wanted more. Which concerned him for a while- did he really want the treatment Megatron had subjected him to for so many vorns? But no, he just wanted to be handled that way by Optimus Prime. Nobody else.
"Optimus!" Hands on Starscream's hips, Prime drove him to overload without fanfare. No spark-merging either. Which was fine with him, since he had places he needed to be shortly as well. Optimus overloaded with a moan the same time Starscream did. Leaning over Starscream's back, hands on either side of his wings, Prime nuzzled his back up to his cranial vents. "Shower."
"Shower," he agreed.
A quick trip to their private washrack, lazy kisses and caresses, and then they were off to their respective appointments.
And almost on time.
-------
Starscream found 'eating' to be a strange thing, he'd only ever ingested energon and the like, but the sparkling he was growing needed materials, or else it would leech what it needed from his own systems.
It was also strange to have something growing inside of him, like an organic. At first, the sparkling had been tucked up close to his spark chamber and could be seen but had eventually moved down into his abdomen. He had eventually started to bulge as the sparkling grew, interfering in his ability to transform.
But not fly. Thank Primus. He was slower in mech form but he could still take to the sky. Prime insisted the Aerialbots accompany him, for protection from Decepticons he said. His range was limited, both for protection and by his physical state, and he didn’t venture far from base.
His physical state, as things progressed, required a certain amount of creativity in some particular areas. Especially in interfacing and it was fun to see what Prime’s inventive and dirty mind could come up with. Mech was slagging shy in public but in private? There wasn't a whole lot he wasn't willing to try at least twice. First time see if he liked it, second to see if he was doing it right.
So far, he was the only to be fully modified so and he had been surprised to discover himself in conversation with Michaela, both bitching about the changes spark-carrying was making to their bodies. He’d won the argument, stating that while she was expected to deliver in nine months, he still had another three years to go.
And Prime had been asking some interesting question, leading Starscream to think his bondmate was considering having a port and growth-chamber installed. He did like running his hands over Starscream’s expanding abdomen when they lay together.
The half-clocked groundslugger. Although, since mating cycles tended to synchronize, having them both in heat would be entertaining as the Pit.
------
'Birth' was a relatively easy affair. The sparkling had developed on schedule and had indicated readiness for onlining in a timely fashion, in the small hours of their recharge cycle, of course, and Ratchet was notified and waiting when they arrived in the repair bay. Starscream had been leaning against Optimus, since the sparkling kept shifting, hitting internals that didn't like being hit and were voicing their complaints by fritzing out.
The removal of his abdominal armor was complicated by his cockpit but Ratchet had earned his reputation as a repair mech and hadn’t slowed down much and swiftly exposed the growth chamber. It had irised open not long afterwards, revealing the sparkling inside. A femme, with his wings and Prime's colors and antennae. Ratchet had given her a quick rinse, making her chirr in anger, and handed her to him. Prime had leaned against his bay, large finger tracing over her small helm, almost afraid to touch. "So small." he'd whispered.
He'd smiled at his bondmate's awed look, turning his smile on the sparkling he replied. "So were you." A pause. "Probably."
He distracted himself from the removal of the chamber by inspecting his creation; the chamber had to be removed if he ever wanted to transform again. He'd grow another one when needed. If needed. She was perfect, dark red and blue with golden optics.
This wasn't his lost sparkling, Prime wasn't his first bondmate, but they would do.
They would most definitely do.
Take me home.
Rating: G
This one got plotty.
Vorns later, Starscream was guiding Optimus through the process. The mech had gone through with the upgrades and he'd sparked in his first heat. It had been interesting, dealing with Optimus in that state. Mech had nearly interfaced with him in the main rec room before Starscream had realized what was going on but fortunately, the room was mostly empty and he'd gotten Optimus out of there fast enough that nobody noticed what was happening.
Spiking Optimus was still something he was getting used to; Pit, having a spike was something he was still getting used to.
But the sight of Optimus quickening was an appealing one; he'd taken advantage of the recording equipment leftover from his exploration days and had many gigs of him progressing through growing a sparkling. Optimus glowed, especially towards the end. Abdomen rounded, too cleanly built to add that kind of mass with any grace, he seemed more relaxed as the sparkling grew. Starscream had heard that some human women were happiest while creating a sparkling, apparently so were some mechs.
And they didn't have to worry about the Matrix of Leadership warping the sparkling's development. Megatron had finally decided to grow a backbone and attacked the Autobots with vigor and some planning well before the upgrades. Hijacking a supply shuttle, the Decepticons had laid siege to the city. That siege had ended with Optimus’ arrival and Megatron’s defeat at his hands; Optimus had been badly damaged in the process and, feeling his death approaching, had handed over the Matrix before slipping into stasis lock. The memory of feeling his spark fail was locked deep in Starscream’s memory, allowed out only when he wasn’t paying attention. Time would fade the memories and he could file them next to the ones of his other sparkmate and encrypt them into near non-existence.
Of all mechs, Hot Rod had proven worthiest and became Prime. He had proven himself a good leader, inexperienced but learning quickly, and finally growing up a little. The Decepticons had fractured with Megatron’s defeat and a good many of them had denounced their allegiances. Megatron’s army had fallen with him and were no more than threat than any pirate.
But Optimus had survived, although there were consequences. It had taken megacycles before he could stay online longer than a few breems and so it had taken a while for anyone to realize his disorientation partly stemmed from memory loss. His memories of his time as Prime were blurred at best and completely gone at worst. Starscream had inquired, demanded, hacked files, whatever he’d had to do to find information and discovered that Optimus was the first Prime to survive surrendering the Matrix and as a consequence no one knew what happened to them afterwards. Fortunately, his memory had improved, if one could call it that, as he regained strength.
He recognized people he knew well but didn't always remember where from or why. Their sparkbond ensured he remembered Starscream and their creation but parts were missing. He remembered Starsinger's onlining but not the first time they interfaced. Their sparkbonding was vague and he had been unsure on some details. His memories of Starsinger’s growth and early years were spotty but he remembered wanting to be able to create life. Ratchet had made him wait for a vorn, to ensure his return to full strength before performing the upgrades.
He was less sure of himself, shyer, but still the loving sparkmate Starscream had grown used to; even if interfacing with him the first time afterwards was like the beginning of their relationship. He had gone back to his old name, Optronix, and didn’t answer to Optimus. Most of the time he didn’t even remember he had been Optimus. It had been difficult at first but they’d adjusted.
Optimus was also less educated than anyone knew. Starscream hadn't realized how much he had been relying on the knowledge stored in the Matrix and on his subordinates. He had been a worker, a dock mech, before being made Prime and had few opportunities for education. Especially when one considered he'd barely reached majority before the burnouts on the council had thrown the Matrix at him. The over-clocked, bot-fragging, knockoffs hadn’t seen the point in any further education of their Prime beyond that which was needed to govern the masses and lead them in battle.
But Opti- Optronix had a sharp mind, that hadn't changed, and learned quickly. Rodimus Prime, Starscream snorted, a sillier name than Optimus Prime, had realized what was going on and declared that Optimus had served as Prime well and deserved a release from the burdens of command. He was not to consulted as any sort of advisor.
There were those who refused to believe he had been diminished, wasn't the Prime they had known and it had caused problems. Soundwave had, surprisingly, turned out to be one of his supporters. Or not so surprisingly- some of Soundwave's cassettes were Optronix' developmental age and he had always been protective of any sparkling or youngling in his vicinity. Soundwave held no grudge for actions during the war, something Starscream wasn’t certain would happen if the situation had been different, and treated Optronix much like one of his own.
And was the one to discover Optronix had a talent for communication. He had picked up a language Soundwave had been trying to learn an idiom-ridden language belonging to an organic people with a fascinating biosphere, faster than Soundwave had. Soundwave had been delighted, none of his own creations had been interested in communication, and requested to take Optronix on as an apprentice.
Former Decepticon or not, Soundwave was one of the best in the field, even Blaster admitted that. It had taken hard work, Optronix didn’t have the background to understand the tech involved except on the most basic of levels, but he persevered. Starscream found himself subject to discussions about tech he didn’t fully understand, asked for advice regarding their workings, and forced to maneuver around disassembled devices scattered along the workbench in their small home lab. It reminded Starscream of his student days.
The party for Optronix’ graduation was already in the works, despite being some time off. Sideswipe, Jazz and Blaster were organizing it and Starscream had heard rumors of what they intended and what they had already gotten a hold of. He could already feel the overcharge headache.
He couldn’t wait. Especially since afterwards, Optronix was to join his team as comm. officer. The long-range exploration ship should be ready by the time he graduated and Starscream intended to get back among the stars where he belonged. Family standing beside him.