“Do you trust me?”
The short answer to that question, given half in amusement and half in seriousness, was ‘no’. It was a resounding ‘no’ as a matter of fact and Blurr would have said it so quickly that Starscream’s audials probably would have registered the glyph as noise. He would have been made to repeat himself.
Blurr worked his jaw and gave Starscream a sideways look. “Why?” he asked instead. Because Starscream didn’t ask questions like that unless he had an ulterior motive. It also usually meant that he was going to ask another question that Blurr did not want to answer.
“It’s just a question,” Starscream said.
He moved behind Blurr and Blurr tried not to get his hackles up, but it was difficult. Starscream was dangerous. Starscream could be a threat. Starscream used to be a Decepticon. Starscream used to be many, many things.
But all Starscream did was wrap his arms around Blurr as though they were genuine romantic partners. He nuzzled the back of Blurr’s helm. One hand pressed to Blurr’s ventrum, fingers teasing along the thin seams. But the other set itself higher, palm flat against Blurr’s chestplate, right above his spark. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the placement of Blurr’s backvents.
“Can’t I merely be curious?” Starscream asked.
Blurr worked his intake. He laid his own hand over the one on his chestplate, though Starscream had made no overt threat.
“You are not merely anything,” Blurr replied. Starscream’s ventilations ghosted against his frame, hot and humid, teasing the cables beneath his seams. “What do you want?”
“An answer to my question.” Starscream licked at his audial, the wet wash of his glossa making Blurr shiver. “Do you trust me, Blurr?”
“No,” he answered and he made to pull away from Starscream’s embrace, but the stronger Seeker held fast.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Starscream said, and his tone was full of amusement. “We’re partners, remember? I need you; you need me?”
Blurr stilled. He turned his helm, only catching half a glimpse of Starscream’s expression. As usual, he could read nothing from it. Starscream’s optics betrayed very little. His field had gone still and silent. Only his hands continued to move, fingers stroking an encouraging path through Blurr’s sensitive abdominal vents and a single digit tracing the seam of Blurr’s chestplates.
It was not just a question. Blurr knew what Starscream wanted. And no, he didn’t trust Starscream. But he believed that Starscream had no intention of killing him. He also didn’t think, for a single moment, that Starscream wanted to merge.
Intimacy was anathema to Starscream. So what was he really after?
“It’s business,” Blurr agreed aloud. He grabbed Starscream’s hand, the one wandering toward his interface panel, stopping it in place. “And politics. And a half dozen other things. But none of them include romance.”
Starscream chuckled. His hips rolled against Blurr’s aft, the heat behind his panel all too tangible. “Who said anything about romance?”
“You think I offer my spark to any casual mech I meet on the street?” Blurr demanded, and he fought off a shiver as Starscream managed to slide his hand down and scrub his palm over Blurr’s panel.
His spike reacted, swelling within its housing. He’d been spending too much time around Starscream if his systems were responding to Starscream’s presence as though they were conditioned to do so. Already his valve was translating the heat of Starscream at his back as permission to lubricate and clench.
Blurr reigned in his field, however. He couldn’t afford to give Starscream any extra leverage.
“I don’t know,” Starscream purred. “Do you?”
His denta scraped a line down Blurr’s audial. He shivered and swallowed a moan. Primus that felt good. Frag Starscream to the Pits and back for knowing just how to make Blurr turn into a needy puddle.
“Of course I don’t!” Blurr snapped. He hissed air through his vents, knees wobbling as his frame pushed back toward Starscream. “I’m not giving you my spark, Starscream!”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t want it,” Starscream retorted, but there was a tension in his words that wasn’t there before. “You Autobots and your sentiment. There are ways to have fun without all that quixotic pitslag, you know.” His palm scraped down hard over Blurr’s panel, sending resonating waves through the metal to his equipment beneath.
His valve twitched again. Lubricant gathered as his folds swelled.
“Why would you want to?” Blurr demanded.
“Because it’s fun,” Starscream purred and he licked at Blurr’s helm vent, denta giving the tiniest of scrapes that made Blurr shiver. “So let me ask you again, Blurr, do you trust me?” His finger dug into the seam of Blurr’s chestplate, talon sliding under the glass of his windshield with an audible scrape.
He very nearly opened right then and there, that was how accustomed to Starscream’s touch his frame had become. As it was, his panels sprang aside, spike emerging into Starscream’s grip and valve releasing a dribble of lubricant to trickle down his right thigh.
Starscream chuckled into his audial as his fingers encircled Blurr’s spike, giving it a long, pulling squeeze.
“Your frame is willing,” he murmured with a lick over Blurr’s audial. “Come on, sweetspark. Let me have a taste.”
Blurr sagged back against Starscream, hips bucking into those clever fingers. His processor was spinning and he thought he remembered Starscream asking him a question. His hands clamped down on Starscream’s arms as he dimly registered the tickling presence at his chest seam.
“No merging,” Blurr gasped out as his optics offlined and his helm tilted back. His vents heaved and his frame shuddered.
“That’s not what I’m after,” Starscream said, almost like a promise. His hand stroked a little faster, thumb swirling in the transfluid gathering at the tip of Blurr’s spike.
Primus, he was an idiot. A fool. A moron.
Blurr worked his intake and let his chestplates part, breaking at the seams to allow access to the spark chamber housing. He didn’t even have a secondary plate. They were too heavy, slowed him down. A fragmentation bomb at the right angle would have killed him during the war. But he was too fast for them. Always too fast.
Reason left him with the slow slide of Starscream’s fingers past the edge of his armor plate and into his exposed core.
Blurr moaned, clutching harder at Starscream’s arms as the talons scraped gently at his protoform. He felt the first soft touch on his spark chamber and convulsed. His spike throbbed, and his valve clenched down on nothing. More lubricant soaked his thighs.
“C-Careful,” Blurr stuttered as he panted.
Every thought kernel was devoted to the awareness of Starscream’s fingers around his spark chamber. Even Starscream’s grip on his spike was only tangential. The soft caress of Starscream’s talons on his spark chamber, however, was ecstasy.
“I am always careful,” Starscream murmured, his own vents sounding heavy and uneven.
His fingers traced the rim of Blurr’s spark access before the tips of them dipped into the outer corona, touching the ice-cold heat that was Blurr’s very center.
His back arched. His mouth opened in a soundless cry. It was pleasure without a name. It seared through his lines. There was a dim crunch as his hands clamped down on Starscream’s arms. All of his vents opened in a heated whoosh.
Blurr was babbling. At least, he thought he was. Maybe it was encouragement. Maybe it was Starscream’s name. Maybe it was a stream of begging. Maybe it was wordless.
He didn’t know.
He felt Starscream’s wet ex-vents on his shoulder. Felt the flick of a glossa against his audial. Starscream said something.
His fingers pushed deeper, into the heavier, denser second ring. It felt as though Starscream was touching his internals, stroking his sensor net nexus. Blurr sucked in a vent, felt it catch, and the tip of Starscream’s finger nicked the heaviest, tertiary band.
Blurr screamed as he overloaded, optics gone dark, spinal strut arched, limbs convulsing. It was an ecstasy that seemed to burn from the inside out and he only recognized tangentially that his interface systems went off as well.
He felt his spark pulse, swelling out like some kind of supernova, before abruptly shrinking and retreating to the safety of his core. His systems shut of their own accord, Starscream quickly retrieving his fingers. Dampness slicked Blurr’s thighs, his abdomen, and his aft.
Starscream had overloaded at some point apparently. Blurr didn’t know when. Maybe in the fuzz between sparkbeats when Blurr’s overload had been so good it hurt.
A low moan left his static vocalizer and he sagged against Starscream. His knees were wobbling. That was the hardest overload he’d ever had in his life. It had sapped his energy, leaving him a little loopy.
“You trust me after all,” Starscream purred, sounding smug to his very core. His hands had moved to Blurr’s hips.
Blurr half-turned his helm, though it took energy he didn’t really have. He was exhausted. “I trust you’re not going to hurt me,” he said, a moment of painful honesty that he probably wouldn’t have let slip free if he wasn’t so disgustingly sated.
Red optics rounded. Hands tightened in their grip on him and he felt Starscream’s field spike, but he couldn’t read the emotion in it. It wasn’t within his capabilities at the moment.
“That’s very stupid of you,” Starscream muttered.
Blurr made a noncommittal noise. He really did need to recharge now. Maybe here on the floor? Yeah. That was good.
He felt himself sliding down. And then he felt as though he was weightless. The floor was moving. No. He was moving across the floor. Except his pedes were… hanging in the air? What?
No. Starscream was carrying him. Well, that was nice of him. He was tucking Blurr into his berth, too? And then he was leaving? That wasn’t nice! Blurr was more than a little cold right now. He always was after intense overloads like that. He could use a berthmate.
“Wait.” Blurr flopped over onto his side, trying to escape from the fluffy padding. He reached out, but just missed Starscream’s arm. Frag.
Starscream was backing away, his expression unreadable. His gaze kept skittering around the room, too.
“Sorry, can’t stay,” he said. “I have work to do. You should just… recharge. I’ll get Jazz to look after Maccadams.”
Blurr flopped onto his front, nuzzling down into the berth covers. He was filthy and sticky, but lacked the energy to tend to it. He groped around for his pillow, tucking it under his helm. There was a pleasant tingle in his systems still. He rather enjoyed it.
Disappointment poked at him, then left in another wave of fatigue. He hummed disapprovingly at Starscream, but lacked the strength to protest. Pity. Starscream would have made for quite the good cuddle.
“See you tomorrow,” Blurr mumbled.
He didn’t hear a response. Fuzzy vision told him it was because Starscream had already left. Weird.
Blurr didn’t spend any more time worrying about it though. Because between one ventilation and the next, he drifted into recharge. The last nagging bit of his subconscious that told him he was forgetting something would have to wait until his defrag cycle finished.
It couldn’t have been that important anyway.