[IDW] Uncover

Blurr found the datapad at the bottom of his crate of usual supplies, buried under a tin of iron shavings and a box of tiny, decorative umbrellas that some of his patrons favored in their drinks. Blurr had assumed that it was an invoice of some kind, so he tucked it into his subspace, choosing to ignore it, and continued distributing his supplies.

It wasn’t until later, when business was slow, the bar was stocked and as clean as he could make it with customers still present, that Blurr could escape to his small office and pull out the datapad. Now was as good a time as any to balance his accounts while he left Bluestreak in charge up front. Jazz was there, too, and between the two of them, Blurr was sure they had it handled.

The datapad, as it turned out, did not contain an invoice. It did, however, have a single, large file and a note from Swindle.

Found this and thought my best, most favorite customer would like it. Enjoy! He even had the audacity to sign it with a kissing emoticon.

Blurr shuddered. He was half-afraid to click on the file, but curiosity won out.

Inside was nothing but a string of image captures, all of them featuring Starscream. Posed images, for that matter, of Starscream decorated in organic-based clothing.

Blurr’s optics widened. They were odd outfits. Gauzy things. Soft colors. Thin straps. Peeks of armor. Stuff meant to conceal. Others meant to highlight. Teases really.

Primus. In this one, Starscream wore an apron, a fringed piece of fabric that covered him from cockpit to mid-thigh, with straps over his shoulders and a tie around his waist. The look on his face was almost demure, his optics downcast, his smile shy.

It was both adorable and intriguing.

Blurr’s comm pinged.

“Could really use your help out here, boss,” Bluestreak said. In the background, Blurr could hear loud laughter and someone shouting for another refill.

No more time to indulge then.

Blurr pinged an affirmative and powered down the datapad. He tucked it into his subspace, his processor churning on the images, drawing up all sorts of scenarios. He couldn’t get the picture of a demure Starscream out of his head. He couldn’t stop imagining lifting the corners of that frilly fabric and discovering what was hidden beneath.

He hurried to help Bluestreak with the crowd, but mixing drinks and offering smiles to his customers was something he could do without real thought nowadays. His processor was elsewhere, his spark spinning, his lines throbbing with heat.

He wanted to see Starscream in that apron. Some of those other outfits, too. But definitely that apron. He wanted it with the fire of a thousand suns.

He wanted it badly enough that the first chance Blurr had, he commed Swindle. If there was anyone who knew how to acquire such an unusual item, it was Swindle.

Blurr had a mighty need.

Blurr could not keep still.

Times like these, he should be on the couch, snuggled up next to Starscream. Or better yet, on the berth, ‘facing the life out of his Seeker.

Starscream had opted to go into the office late, which meant he was still in the penthouse when Blurr onlined. This was optimal cuddling and/or interfacing time, and Blurr wasted it by pacing in the main room.

Starscream sat on the futon, delicately sipping at a cube of mid-grade, while he browsed through the contents of a datapad. Blurr didn’t know what was on the pad and assumed it was related to something in New Iacon, perhaps a communique from the Council. If he noticed that Blurr was all but vibrating, his field full of restless energy, he didn’t say so.

In fact, he wasn’t even pouting that Blurr wasn’t cuddling and/or interfacing him. Which was odd in itself.

Perhaps he was ignoring Blurr a-purpose.

Blurr hustled another cycle around the perimeter of the main room. He chugged his energon quickly and tossed it into the recycle bin as he passed the storage room. Knowing Starscream, he’d have to retrieve his mate’s empty cube later. Star was likely to leave it lying there on the table, the slob.

Blurr’s engine rumbled.

Starscream’s wings twitched.

“Are you waiting for me to notice you, Zippy?” Starscream asked with a demure sip of his energon and without lifting his optics from his datapad. One thumb continued to sweep through whatever was on the screen.

“No,” Blurr retorted. He forced himself to stop pacing. He thought, again, of the datapad and the wrapped package in his subspace. Now or later?

Starscream seemed in a playful mood at the moment.


“Are you sure?” Starscream’s lips curved, his optics twinkling with amusement.

Definitely now.

“Not waiting,” Blurr corrected, and leaped over the small cushioned chair. He planted his aft on the table in front of Starscream as the Seeker straightened to look at him, resting his empty cube on the table. “But now that I have it…” He grinned.

Starscream lowered the datapad, giving Blurr his full attention. “Well, spit it out,” he prompted with a flick of his wrist. “I don’t have all morning.”

Aw. Someone was a little miffed Blurr wasn’t paying attention to him, wasn’t he? Blurr would have to fix that. But first…

“I found something a couple days ago,” Blurr said as he fished around in his subspace, pulling out both the wrapped package and the datapad.

Starscream arched an orbital ridge. “And?”

Blurr cycled a ventilation. Here went nothing.

He powered on the datapad, flicking it to his favorite image, it of the ever-so-carefully wrapped apron in his other hand.

“This,” he said before he thrust it toward Starscream, nearly bouncing off his mate’s nasal ridge in the process. “Look familiar?” He grinned, wriggling with delight.

He could not have anticipated Starscream’s reaction.

“Where did you find this?” Starscream shrieked as he leaped to his pedes and snatched the datapad out of Blurr’s hands so fast it left streaks of paint from his fingers.

Blurr cycled his optics. “It was in my supply crate,” he said as Starscream’s field flashed like fire throughout the room, and there was no humor in it. The wrapping paper in Blurr’s other hand crinkled noisily.

“Swindle,” Starscream hissed, and his wings went rigid as his plating drew in tight. Defensive. “That two-bit Con. Of course he has a copy of this.”

Blurr leaned back from the vibrating Seeker. “What is this?” he asked. Starscream’s reaction seemed outrageous, to be honest.

“A mistake,” Starscream snapped and now his wings flicked upward, a clear sign of agitation. “A necessary one.” The discomfort in Starscream’s field was palpable, like a bite on Blurr’s dermal net.

He looked at the brightly colored paper in his free hand and frowned. “Necessary?” he repeated.

Starscream cycled a ventilation. He glared at the screen in front of him as though he could burn through it with laserfire optics. “I was starving. I needed the creds. And when you get that hungry, dignity goes for cheap.”

Blurr’s frown deepened. “What’s so bad about a few pictures?” He’d lost count of the number of image captures he’d posed for over the decades. Every one wanted some shiny pose of Cybertron’s greatest racer. It came with the territory.

They were just pictures.

“It’s not the images. It’s what I’m wearing in them,” Starscream declared, throwing up his hands and nearly tossing the datapad in the process. “Do you realize how obscene that is?”

“No…?” Blurr ventured, and then shrugged. “I actually kind of think it’s hot.” He lifted his hand, waving the wrapped package. “Which is why I bought one.”

Starscream snorted a ventilation. “Of course you did.” He snatched it from Blurr’s hands, the paper crinkling loudly. “Deviant,” he snipped, and spun on a heelstrut, away from Blurr.

“Where are you going?” Blurr pushed to his pedes as Starscream stormed toward the storage room.

“To destroy this,” Starscream threw over his shoulders, optics dark, and armor clamped tight. “If I’m at all lucky, it’s the last copy.”


“I’m not wearing it!” Starscream all but shouted, and vanished into the supply closet, going so far as to key the door shut behind him.

The part of Blurr not feeling guilty was a little impressed Starscream actually remembered where the supply closet was. Primus knew he never found it enough to do some cleaning around here.

Like the empty energon cube he left on the table.

Blurr sighed and scraped a hand down his face. Well, that hadn’t gone to plan at all.

It looked like there was going to be neither cuddling nor interfacing today.

A week passed. Long enough that Blurr had pushed the memory of those images to the back of his processor. He was smart enough not to bring them up to Starscream again. Instead, he daydreamed about the roleplay that could have been while he was at the bar.

He resisted the urge to punch a smirking Swindle in the face, especially when the conmech came swaggering up to the bar.

“So,” Swindle said with a cock of his hips and flash of his visor. “Am I responsible for some very saucy interfacing or what?”

Blurr scrubbed at a new stain on his counter. “You’re not,” he said curtly.

“Come now, Blurr. You can’t tell me that you and our glorious leader are that plain in the berth.” Swindle leaned an elbow on the counter, his smirk a mile wide. “Don’t tell me you weren’t interested. We both know that’ll be a lie.”

Blurr tossed down the rag and braced his hands on the bar. He gave Swindle his firmest stare. “Was that the only copy you had?”

“What kind of businessmech do you take me for?”

Blurr narrowed his optics. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

Swindle huffed a ventilation. He pushed himself off the bar. “Those datapads aren’t cheap, you know.” He planted his hands on his hips and stared at Blurr. “That one was an original! Only maybe a half-dozen that haven’t been smelted.”

“I want them all,” Blurr said.

“Did you miss the part where I said they weren’t cheap?”

Blurr shifted his weight and idly scratched at the stain on the counter. “Did I stutter?” he asked, giving Swindle a sidelong glance.

Swindle’s visor flashed. He scratched at his chin. “You know, you’re eventually gonna run out of what I owe you.”

“And I’ll let you know when that is.”

Swindle’s engine growled. He heaved a sigh and dug into his subspace, producing a handful of datapads. “You are a horrendous taskmaster, Blurr old buddy.”

“You’ll find me the rest?” Blurr demanded as he grabbed the datapads and shoved them into his subspace. “And I mean all of them, Swindle. I don’t want to hear about anyone making copies or you keeping one for yourself.”

“Sure, sure.” Swindle held up his hands and grinned. “You can trust this face, can’t you?”

Blurr rolled his optics. “If I could, you wouldn’t be in the position of owing me so much, now would you?”


Blurr patted his subspace. He hoped showing these to Starscream tonight would earn him a more cuddly Seeker, rather than the one made of talons and fangs who had been living in his berth for the past week.

Sometimes, actions were a far better apology than words.

Blurr opened the door to their apartment, fully expecting it to be dim and quiet. Starscream had mentioned earlier that he intended to go to berth early since he had a before-dawn meeting, and Blurr had been forced to conceal his disappointment. Blurr’s early shifts were usually their date nights. It was one of the few nights a week they could fall into recharge together, rather than separately.

But he could no more ask Starscream to change his schedule than Starscream could ask Blurr. So he’d smiled, said he understood, and slouched off to his early shift, resigning himself to a cold berth.

So when he opened the front door, and found the apartment brightly lit and a soft music playing from their entertainment system, Blurr was more than a little surprised. Maybe the meeting had been canceled?


There was no one visible in the front room, though Blurr could see the doors to the berth room and Starscream’s office were open. The balcony door was shut and there was no one on it.

“Welcome home, sweetspark!”

Blurr blinked at the overly saccharine vocals, and then his jaw nearly dropped as Starscream stepped out of the refueling room. He carried a tray, balancing a cube of energon and a plate of goodies, and he smiled brightly at Blurr as though he hadn’t been the chilliest Seeker in the world over the past week.

But that wasn’t the astonishing part.

“You’re… you’re wearing it,” Blurr said dumbly.

Because yes, Starscream was wearing the apron. A large purple heart stretched across his cockpit, and it was frilled with black lace. Black straps were decorated with purple lace, and the flap of fabric that covered Starscream’s hips and upper thighs was a lattice of lace in strips of purple and black.

“Of course I am, sir,” Starscream said, still in that syrupy sweet tone. “You told me I’m always to wear it.” His gaze cast to the side, as if demure, his faceplate taking on a rosy hue. “I’ve prepared your energon for you. I made these goodies also. I hope you like them.”

Blurr worked his jaw. He stared at Starscream as though he’d never seen the Seeker before. What kind of game was Starscream playing? And should Blurr play along?

“I’m sure I will,” Blurr said and cautiously approached Starscream, who moved forward to set the tray on the table in the center of the main room.

The empty table. Had Starscream cleaned? Usually there was a handful of empty cubes, abandoned datapads, and a used armor cloth piled on the table.

Starscream beamed at him, an expression that was patently un-Starscream-like, and then flounced – yes, flounced – away. Blurr dropped down into the futon, watching Starscream warily, while he blindly grabbed one of the goodies. He popped it into his mouth, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was delicious.


Scientist Starscream might be, but cook he was not. Blurr wondered if he went into the storage room, if he’d find an empty box from Mixmaster’s shop.

Again, he wondered what kind of game he’d been ushered into.

He leaned back in the futon, cube of energon in one hand and another goodie in the other, and he watched Starscream. The seeker had pulled a microfiber cloth from subspace and was dusting off the large vidscreen. He had a jaunty bounce to his step, wings all a-twitter, his faceplate still holding that rosy glow.

He glanced at Blurr every now and again. Askance looks. Downcast optics. Shy, if Blurr had no other word, except Starscream was many things but not shy.

“The trophy shelf could use a dusting,” Blurr said idly. He lifted the cube to his lips, giving it a sip.

If Starscream wanted to play, then Blurr would participate, too.

Starscream’s wings twitched. He dipped his helm. “Of course, sir. Right away.”

He moved to the shelves, briefly popping his thrusters to reach the highest shelf, before stretching out to reach the one below it. The apron continued to swish across his thighs, the lace ruffling with his movements.

He was certainly committed to this game, Blurr mused. But not entirely. He laughed quietly to himself as he noticed that Starscream’s attempts to dust were half-sparked at best. He really hated to clean.

Blurr took another long sip of his energon, popped a third goodie into his mouth, and resolved to enjoy the show. He sat back and admired Starscream from behind. His Seeker had obviously taken time and effort to polish himself to a stunning gleam. The purple and black were a good contrast against the crimson paint.

Starscream didn’t have much of an aft, this was true, but those legs. Blurr had a fondness for his legs. Especially wrapped around Blurr’s waist.

Starscream leaned to the left, flopping the rag over a holo-cube, leg shifting to adjust his balance. Something shimmered in the light.

Blurr cycled his optics. He leaned forward. There was a sheen of lubricant on the inside of Starscream’s thighs. It was only a few dribbles, but clearly visible.

Were… Were Starscream’s panels open?

The fragging tease.

Blurr leapt to his pedes and set his half-finished cube onto the tray. “I trust you’ve scrubbed the washracks already,” he said as he approached Starscream from behind. This close, the lubricant was more obvious.

Primus, his panels were open.

Blurr’s mouth went dry. His spark throbbed with want.

“It’s next on my list, sir,” Starscream chirped without turning around. The cloth went swish-swish as it brushed over a shelf edge.

Blurr was close enough to touch now, and so he did, pressing against Starscream’s back, feeling the heat of the Seeker against his chestplate. Starscream stilled, though he kept lightly waving the dust cloth back and forth.


“You’re such a naughty maid,” Blurr murmured as slipped a hand between Starscream’s thighs, feeling for himself the damp slicking Starscream’s plating. The heat of Starscream’s valve wafted against his fingertips. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

The need growing within Blurr blazed higher.

Starscream shivered, as did his wings, and they vibrated against Blurr’s chestplate. “Am I?” he asked as his legs shifted slightly apart, giving Blurr more than enough room to slide his hand further up, until his thumb brushed over the swollen rim of Starscream’s valve.

Wet. Hot. Pulsing with need.

Blurr licked his lips.

“How clumsy of me,” Starscream added. “I will clean it up immediately.”

Blurr made a low noise in his intake. He pressed harder against Starscream’s back, his fingers curling into the damp of Starscream’s valve. The Seeker truly was dripping, and his hips twitched as Blurr rubbed his palm over Starscream’s rim, fingers tapping briefly over Starscream’s anterior node.

Starscream’s ventilations stuttered. Blurr’s echoed him. He wondered. Was Starscream’s spike exposed, too?

Blurr slipped his other hand around Starscream’s waist and under the apron, seeking out Starscream’s spike. Sure enough, it was half-pressurized, the damp tip poking against the apron, tenting the flimsy fabric.

“You’ve been cleaning with your panels open,” Blurr purred as he pinched the tip of Starscream’s spike, rubbing the pre-fluid between his fingers.

“Of course I have, sir,” Starscream replied, his vocals husky now. His helm tilted, his optics looking at Blurr sidelong and demure. “As you require of me.”


Blurr’s engine revved. He rubbed the tip of Starscream’s spike again, and the Seeker’s hips bucked. They rocked slowly, canting down to grind against Blurr’s hand, and tilting forward into the teasing pinches of Blurr’s fingers.

“You are very obedient,” Blurr observed. He leaned in, ex-venting damp heat against the edge of Starscream’s wing.

He shifted back behind Starscream again. He abandoned Starscream’s spike – savoring the small whimper of protest Starscream made – and gripped Starscream’s hips with his hands. Fluid-sticky fingers left a streak in polished armor as Blurr ground his pelvic array against Starscream’s aft.

“Except you’ve stopped cleaning.” Blurr’s gaze flicked to Starscream’s hands, both of them braced on the shelving. “How insubordinate of you.”

Starscream pushed back against him, his field tickling against Blurr’s, warm and drizzling with arousal. “Well, that’s because you’re distracting me, sir,” he said, his tone a bit tight, betraying the depth of his arousal.

Every time Starscream said ‘sir’ a little zing went straight down Blurr’s spinal strut. Heat cascaded through his lines as his spike popped free, pressurizing in an instant. The head of it nudged against Starscream’s aft, leaving a streak of pre-fluid behind.

Starscream made a low sound of need. A shiver raced across his plating, and his field pulsed with desire. Even more so when Blurr tightened his grip, adjusted, and slid his spike between Starscream’s thighs. The head of it skimmed over the swollen rim of Starscream’s valve, heated lubricant dripping down onto the length.

“Are you telling me you can’t work through distraction?” Blurr asked.

Starscream’s talons rent a scratch in the shelving. He groaned as Blurr rolled his hips, spike gliding over and over the rim of Starscream’s valve. He throbbed, eager to sink into Starscream’s valve, felt the dermal mesh twitching as though inviting him. But no. Not just yet.

“Not – hnnn – not when I’d rather serve you,” Starscream purred, and the syrupy sweet and cheerful tone of earlier was gone, replaced by a soft, needy growl. Blurr preferred the latter.

It was much more of the Seeker he loved.

Blurr leaned forward, his denta catching the top edge of Starscream’s wing. Such a light scrape was little more than a tease, but Starscream’s wing stilled for him to nibble nonetheless. He thrust even more slowly between crimson thighs, Starscream dribbling enough lubricant to ease the way.

“Sir?” Starscream panted. His hips canted backward, aft rubbing against Blurr’s groin, his posture nothing short of invitation.


Blurr rocked forward, shivering as the head of his spike caught the lip of Starscream’s valve before popping free. It skimmed over Starscream’s anterior node, and Starscream shuddered in his grasp. The shelving creaked.

“You’re not dusting,” Blurr pointed out, his lips curving into a wicked smirk that Starscream couldn’t see.

Two could play this game.

Starscream’s engine roared. One hand gripped the shelving as though he needed to brace himself. His fingers twitched around the dust cloth, moving awkwardly.

“That’s because…” Starscream trailed off, back arching as Blurr stroked over and over his rim, exciting those tinier sensors buried in the plump mesh.

Blurr resisted the urge to chuckle devilishly. “Because?” he prompted.

“Because I want you to frag me!” Starscream said all in a rush, and Blurr knew only part of it was an act. There was a growl on the end, a demand, and that was pure Starscream.

Blurr’s engine rumbled. “Do you now?” he asked as he rolled his hips, grinding against Starscream’s aft and valve. “But is that any way to ask your master for something, pet?”

Starscream growled at him.

Blurr’s lips curved. He loosed one hand to slip around to Starscream’s front again, sliding beneath the apron to curl his fingers around Starscream’s now fully-pressurized spike. The tip left wet marks on Starscream’s apron, and Primus if that wasn’t the hottest thing.

“You’re getting your pretty apron dirty, Starshine,” Blurr teased.

“Your fault.” Starscream sucked in a deep vent, his field pulsing needfully against Blurr’s. Charge rocked his frame.

“Is that so?” Blurr pinched the tip of Starscream’s spike, feeling the Seeker jerk in his arms. He was nearly smacked by a twitching wing as well, but dodged at the last second.

“Yes it is!” Starscream insisted, and the shelving creaked alarmingly.

Blurr’s glossa swept over his lips. He wanted nothing more than to sink into Starscream’s valve here and now, take him against the shelves, and who cared what they broke in the process.

He still made himself pull away, his fingers wet with Starscream’s pre-fluid, his spike glossy from Starscream’s lubricant.


“You have work to do,” Blurr said in as much of a stern tone as he could manage given the way his spike ached, and his spark throbbed. “The berthroom is filthy.”

Starscream shifted to look over his shoulder. Crimson optics gleamed with mischief. “Is that so?” he purred, coy. “Then allow me to attend to that immediately, sir.”

Blurr worked his intake. “Yes, get to it,” he said, and swatted Starscream’s aft for good measure, the light slap of metal on metal barely audible over the music still playing in the background.

Starscream’s optics flashed, but his field still pulsed that warm, vibrating need. It slid silkily over Blurr’s, both inviting and heavy with lust.

“At once, sir,” he said and walked away, a sway to his hips, and lubricant slicking his thighs.

Blurr’s optics tracked the rivulets of lubricant as they trickled down Starscream’s armor. He eyed the tenting of Starscream’s apron, and the damp spots in the front of it. His internals tightened with heat, spike twitching.

And yes, there were indeed drips on the floor. Blurr looked down to see a small puddle where Starscream had been standing. Some maid.

Blurr chuckled to himself. He opted to keep Starscream waiting a few moments more, and quickly tidied up the main room. He turned off the entertainment center, put the half-finished energon and goodies back into the refueling room, and switched the lights to dim.

Thus tidied, Blurr followed Starscream into the berthroom, bracing himself for anything. Even so, he was not prepared.

Starscream stood in front of the berth, pretending to neaten the covers and cushions they preferred to recharge with. But as Blurr entered, Starscream half-turned and dipped his helm in a respectful bow.

That wasn’t the surprising thing. It was the gleam of sparklight peeking through the lace of Starscream’s apron.

The fragging Seeker had cracked his chestplates, revealing his naked spark beneath the apron as surely as he’d exposed his interface components.

Blurr’s array throbbed.

“The berth is clean, sir,” Starscream said, his glossa flicking over his lips. He abandoned the sweet tone of a maid, and all that was left in his voice was invitation.

“Good,” Blurr growled. He crossed the room in three swift strides, his hands finding Starscream’s hips.

He spun Starscream to face him and pressed his mouth against Starscream’s, moaning as he felt the first tickle of Starscream’s spark energies against his chestplate. His glossa plunged past Starscream’s lips as Starscream made a low noise of need, his hands clutching at Blurr’s shoulders. He felt the press of Starscream’s spike against his abdominal armor, and the delicate rasp of the apron.

Blurr shuddered.

He couldn’t wait any more.

He broke away from the kiss. “Berth. Now,” he said, hands gripping Starscream’s hips and assisting in hoisting him onto it.

“Yes, sir,” Starscream said, his faceplate warm and dark, his fans spinning noisily. He scrabbled backward, hands scraping at the berth, until together, he was hoisted onto it.

Blurr crawled after him, his intent predatory, his lips finding Starscream’s again, with fiercer need. He tugged on Starscream’s lower lip with his denta, plunged his glossa into Starscream’s mouth, and claimed. He worked his way between Starscream’s thighs, rutted his spike against Starscream’s valve, and felt the silky brush of the apron’s lace against his belly.

Blurr moaned and sought out Starscream’s hands, pinning them above the Seeker’s helm. He pressed his chestplate to Starscream’s, felt the whorl of Starscream’s spark against his armor, as the purple lace heart lit up with a pale green glow.

Starscream’s backstrut arched, pressing his chest harder against Blurr’s. A moan spilled from his mouth, vibrating against Blurr’s lips.

“Keep the apron on,” Blurr said as his spike rutted against Starscream’s valve, head occasionally slipping past to slide over the silky lace. “And don’t you dare overload before me.”

A low keen rose in Starscream’s intake. His optics were wide and bright as he drew in desperate pants through his intake.

“Yes, s-sir.”

Blurr kissed him again as Starscream’s legs wound around his waist, thrusters kicking at the back of Blurr’s thighs. Blurr shifted, the angle adjusting with him, and on the next thrust, he plunged into Starscream’s valve, sinking to the hilt in one smooth push.

Blurr moaned as Starscream clamped down around him, calipers tightening and rippling, charge erupting between sensor nodes. He thought about going slow and steady, but the heat between them, the pulling snap of Starscream’s field, was too much.

Starscream bit at Blurr’s lips and made all of those desperate sounds. His valve dribbled lubricant, so hot and wet, desperate as it clutched at Blurr’s spike. He’d been riding the hard edge of arousal for far longer than Blurr, and yet he held back, frame trembling as he did so.

Primus he was beautiful.

Blurr broke off from the kiss and nosed his way to Starscream’s intake. He pinned cables between his denta, and laved them with kisses as Starscream whimpered and thrashed beneath him. His thighs trembled around Blurr’s waist, thrusters pressing harder, forcing him deeper.

It was the noises which did Blurr in.

Starscream whimpering and moaning beneath him, making such hungry sounds in his intake. His fingers wrapped around Blurr’s, despite being pinned, and he writhed beneath Blurr. His valve cycled restlessly as though trying to milk the overload out of Blurr, and there was no holding back from it.

Blurr covered Starscream’s mouth with his, grinding his spike deep, against Starscream’s ceiling node, as he was pulled into overload. He spilled helplessly, filling Starscream with his transfluid, hips jerking in little spurts.

Starscream moaned and wriggled beneath him, valve twitching as charge rattled through his nodes. But he’d obeyed. He hadn’t overloaded.


Blurr broke off from the kiss, his entire frame thrumming, and let go of Starscream’s hands. He pawed at the apron, unable to get his fingers on the knot which kept Starscream’s spark from view. He gave up and settled for tearing through the lace, until the tiny part in Starscream’s chestplate was revealed to him.

Starscream shivered, his optics so dark they bled crimson at him.

Blurr dragged in a ventilation and bent forward, his lips dragging up the edge of one of Starscream’s chestplates. The taste of Starscream’s spark leapt to his glossa, all charge and heat. It defied description.

Starscream’s hands lifted, pawing at nothing, and Blurr grabbed them, pinning him at his sides. He wanted nothing to keep him from worshiping the trust in front of him.

“Open?” Blurr asked, his lips tracing the edge of Starscream’s chestplate as he looked up at his Seeker.

Starscream’s expression was a heady mix of hope and uncertainty, all overlain with desperate need. He said nothing, but the sound of his chestplates parting further was all the permission Blurr needed.

And what a sweet gift it was.

His engine purred as Starscream’s spark came fully into view, the pale whorls of it bathing Blurr’s face in a soft warmth.

“Beautiful,” Blurr murmured. He loosed one hand so that he could trace his fingers around Starscream’s spark casing.

Starscream’s backstrut arched, chest pushing toward Blurr’s hand, a low whimper escaping his intake. His freed hand flailed before wrapping around Blurr’s upper arm, grip so tight Blurr felt the stressing of his armor.

“Don’t stop,” Starscream gritted out, his spark pulsing fitfully, his valve cycling down tight on Blurr’s semi-pressurized spike.

Charge erupted from beneath Starscream’s armor, dancing over his plating in a brilliant show of sparks. More beautiful was the light of his spark, pulsing within the confines of his casing.

“I won’t,” Blurr murmured and freed Starscream’s other hand so that he could slide an arm beneath Starscream’s waist, tilting Starscream up just enough his lips could caress the outer corona of Starscream’s spark.

The sound Starscream made was electric. It was just shy of a shriek, his free hand cupping Blurr’s helm as though to push him closer as he drew in desperate ventilations. His valve squeezed and squeezed as his frame writhed and his spark flickered and flared.

Blurr shivered as Starscream’s valve fluttered around his spike. Starscream pushed his helm closer to the Seeker’s spark, and Blurr was more than happy to oblige, his glossa tracing around the edge of the casing. He tasted coolness and light, heat and charge, a taste wholly indescribable. His fingers teased toward the secondary corona, feeling the cool snap of the spark against his fingertips.

Starscream seized upward, frame vibrating, field rising before it crashed down over Blurr and swallowed him whole.

Blurr purred against Starscream’s spark, watched the pale green light flare in response to him.

“My starshine,” Blurr murmured. He kissed Starscream’s spark casing again, his finger daring to dip into the tertiary corona, but still far from the electrifying core. “Overload for me, Star. Now.”

Starscream tossed his helm back, his thighs tightening to the point the metal of Blurr’s hips creaked. The pain, however, was secondary to all else. Secondary to the gorgeous sight of Starscream coming undone beneath him, spark erupting in overload, flaring bright enough to force Blurr to shutter his optics in self-defense.

Starscream writhed beneath him, valve fluttering, spike spurting a strip of transfluid against Blurr’s abdomen. Blurr groaned and shoved his chest against Starscream’s, laying his weight atop Starscream as he sealed their lips together. He tasted Starscream’s pleasure on his lips, as the surge and push of heat from Starscream’s overload battered his chestplate.

Blurr’s cooling fans screamed in tandem with Starscream’s. The kiss was fierce, biting, as Starscream trembled beneath him, clutching at his frame as though he needed something solid to cling to.

Starscream made little noises in his intake, small little whines, and Blurr’s own spark fluttered. He gentled the kiss, sweeping his lips over Starscream’s in little caresses before he pressed their forehelms together. They exchanged ventilations as Starscream’s chestplates gently closed, protecting him once again.

This was not at all how Blurr expected his night to go. He was not at all disappointed.

Starscream’s hand on the back of his helm eased, less of a clamp and more of a caress. His fingers slid up, teasing the caudal edge of Blurr’s helm crest.

“Okay?” Blurr asked as their ventilations slowed and their cooling fans calmed from a rapid whirr to a soothing hum.

Starscream hummed low in his intake. “More than,” he said, and unshuttered his optics, looking up into Blurr’s. “Were you surprised?”

Blurr chuckled. “I think my reaction speaks for itself, don’t you?” he asked as he leaned back a little, just enough that he was no longer resting his weight on Starscream and therefore, on Starscream’s wings. “I thought you hated the apron?”

Starscream’s gaze shifted away. “I hate those pictures,” he muttered, his faceplate coloring. “I hate why I needed to do that.”

Blurr shifted to the side, slipping out of Starscream as he did so. They could always clean up later. “I can understand that.”

“No, you can’t,” Starscream said, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. “You’re Forged. You were born to be what you were. You never had to want for anything.”


He had a point.

Blurr cupped Starscream’s face, scrubbing his thumb over his mate’s cheek. “You’re right,” he said. “I can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean I don’t recognize what you did tonight, and I’m not grateful for it.”

“Pah. It wasn’t that difficult,” Starscream muttered.

“Yes, it was.” Blurr gently tilted Starscream’s face back toward his. “And whenever you want to talk about it, I want to listen.”

Starscream squirmed. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he grumbled.

“Even so,” Blurr conceded. His lips curved in a soft smile. “Thank you for wearing the apron.”

“You’re such a pervert. You loved it,” Starscream said, shaking his helm. “I don’t get the appeal of a bit of organic frippery, but…” He trailed off and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “If it inspires this in you, maybe it’s doable every now and then.”

Blurr tilted his helm. “Are you saying I’m a stale lover?”

“Well, if the gearbox fits…” Starscream’s gaze wandered away, but the tease in his tone was all too audible.


Starscream hooked a hand around Blurr’s helm and pulled him down into a kiss, muffling his indignation. Humor vibrated in his field, along with affection, and that was enough for Blurr.

He melted into the kiss, his glossa tangling with Starscream’s, as his Seeker purred into the kiss. Starscream’s field wrapped around him like a secondary embrace, a thread of lust winding into the warmth of it.

Blurr purred against Starscream’s mouth. Round two? Why, yes, he was quite interested, thank you very much.

Pity he had ripped the apron. It had been very inspiring.

Well, Blurr supposed he’d just have to acquire another.


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