[All This] Love is Like a Magnet

Sunstreaker had gone from barely acknowledging his newly assigned roommate, to enduring him with grudging tolerance, and finally, to harboring a deep and abiding affection for the mech. Yet, there were still times he looked at Starscream and he remembered just how much of an irritation the Seeker had been in the beginning.

Times like now, for example.

“Starscream, get over here,” Sunstreaker said, for the third time, as he rearranged his painting supplies once again, to keep from stalking across the floor, snatching the petulant Seeker by a wing hinge, and dragging him to the table.

Starscream hunched further over his datapad, curled as he was in the windowseat, and did an effective job of pretending he hadn’t heard Sunstreaker. His audials were functioning just fine, he simply hated getting painted. Oh, he was cooperative when it was the face whorls and status marks.

Decorative, garish glitter was another matter entirely.

“Your client is paying a lot of creds for this,” Sunstreaker reminded him testily. “If it’s not perfect, you’ll get docked.”

Which it would be perfect if Sunstreaker had anything to do with it. But if Starscream kept resisting, and Sunstreaker left him to his own devices, it wouldn’t be perfect. And Starscream’s client was a new visitor to the club, and a big spender from what Sunstreaker had seen so far. If Starscream could impress him, Sunstreaker had no doubt that he’d earn a frequent, high-paying client.

And hopefully, he wasn’t a slag-poor excuse for a mech. Hopefully, he was polite, patient, and an extremely good tipper.

All Sunstreaker actually knew about him was that he was mated, and that he wanted Starscream to play with his mate, his sub to be more precise. That could be either good or bad. Starscream’s ability to obey waxed and waned as much as Luna 1.

Sunstreaker shifted around his paints again, but Starscream still hadn’t moved. Frag it all.

Sunstreaker cycled a ventilation and shoved to his pedes, easing the tray of supplies out of the way so as not to disturb their organization. He stalked across the floor and snatched the datapad out of Starscream’s hands, shoving it into his subspace.

“Hey! I was reading that!”

Sunstreaker folded his arms and glared down at his roommate. “Do you want me to paint you or not?” he demanded.

Starscream wrinkled his nasal ridge. “I don’t want to get painted at all,” he huffed. His wings twitched upward, a clear sign of ire.

“Then you’re going to let Atomizer take all those creds, is that it? Along with getting docked?” Sunstreaker arched an orbital ridge. “I thought you were here to pay off debts, not pout like a sparkling.”

Starscream’s wingflaps wriggled. “I’m not pouting.”

“Yes, you are.” Sunstreaker half-turned and pointed toward the fold-out padded table he’d rolled in for precisely this purpose. “Get on the table.”

Starscream made a face, but at least he uncurled himself from the window seat and dragged his aft to standing. “There was a time when you were nicer to me,” he muttered.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and gave Starscream a light swat to the aft. “There was a time you obeyed me without question, too.”

The Seeker hopped a little at the swat, but tossed a coy look over his shoulder. “Now that I know is a lie,” he retorted. “I never obey without a challenge.”

Hm. He might have had a point there. Though his almost sparkling-like refusal to cooperate with the erotic paint-work was starting to take on a whole new flavor, especially when he approached the table but did not climb up onto it. Instead he leaned against the side, crossing one ankle-strut over the other.

So that was the game, was it?

Sunstreaker smirked. All right then.

He moved to Starscream, crowding him against the table, bracketing him in with arms to either side of the Seeker. He pressed their foreheads together, until all he could see was Starscream’s pretty red optics.

“You,” he said, “are a brat.”

Starscream snorted. “What else is new?”

Sunstreaker chuckled and stole Starscream’s lips for a kiss, though he kept it brief and chaste. Or relatively so. He only wanted a taste, enough to send a thrill of warmth through his roommate’s frame.

Starscream’s mouth tried to follow his, but Sunstreaker was quick to pull away, giving another light swat to the outside of Starscream’s right thigh. “On the table,” he said. “You need to be painted so you can impress this new client.”

“Hah, joke’s on you. I’m a Seeker. That’s all I need to impress,” Starscream said in an imperious tone, but he did at least obey, climbing up onto the table and reclining upon it as though he were posing for some smut catalog.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. “And what a pretty Seeker you are,” he said, dragging his fingers from Starscream’s ventrum down to his array covers. He tapped them. “Open.”

Starscream preened as his panels cycled open, the tip of his spike peeping into view as his valve spiraled open as well. His biolights had already begun to blink fitfully, lubricant a glistening sheen within the dim depths.

“Pretty enough not to need those… decorations.” Starscream gave an askance look at the glitter paint and shuddered. “Honestly, clients have no taste.”

“If they pay enough, they don’t have to have taste,” Sunstreaker said. He smoothed his hand down Starscream’s belly and rested his palm against the flat of Starscream’s groin, millimeters away from his spike. “Besides, I can make anything look good.”

Starscream’s glossa swept over his lips. “True.” He squirmed on the table, trying to roll his hips toward Sunstreaker’s fingers.

Sunstreaker gently flicked his hip seam. “Be still.” He slid his fingers around Starscream’s spike housing, teasing the sensitive protomesh. He needed Starscream aroused but not leaking. Riding that fine line might require some outside assistance, however.

“You’re not painting me yet,” Starscream said.

“But I will be soon.” Sunstreaker rubbed his palm over the head of Starscream’s spike, and watched appreciatively as Starscream shivered and thrust up against his hand. “Be still, Star.”

Starscream’s glossa flicked over his lips. His talons kneaded at the thick pad covering the table. “You say that as though it’s easy when you’ve got your hands on my spike.”

“And here I thought you were a paragon of self-control.” Sunstreaker rubbed his palm over Starscream’s spikehead again, and smirked when it began to pressurize into his fingers. He curled his hand around the warming metal, giving Starscream several light strokes and squeezes, until Starscream firmed entirely.

The Seeker’s engine purred. He shivered, shifting restlessly beneath Sunstreaker. “We could skip the paint and you could keep doing that instead,” Starscream said, his optics turning to liquid fire.

Sunstreaker rubbed his thumb over Starscream’s transfluid slit, which had yet to start dripping. Good. He needed it to stay that way, or he’d have to utilize other measures.

Given the pushy buzz in Starscream’s field, Sunstreaker suspected he’d end up using all of the extra items on his tray. He licked his lips. And what a treat that would be.

“No, you need to get painted,” Sunstreaker said, and released his grip on Starscream’s spike, watching it bob. It rose proudly from Starscream’s groin, a beautiful silver length with crimson highlights.

It was almost a shame to paint it with glitter, but the client wanted it, and so Sunstreaker would do it. This was not optional. Glitter, except in cases of allergies, were non-optional portions of their contract. An escort could opt out of any and all kinks, positions, and roles – but they could not decline requests for additional decorations, or even a full re-paint. Though both of the latter always came at an added cost to the client.

Glitter and paint were harmless after all. It was only Starscream’s pride that suffered any damage.

“Spoilsport,” Starscream pouted. His hips rolled up again, as if trying to call Sunstreaker’s attention back to his firm spike.

Sunstreaker tapped Starscream on the hip. “Be still.” He turned, surveying his decorating supplies before he plucked the cleanser and a soft cloth from the pile.

Starscream was clean, scrupulously so, but Sunstreaker needed a spotless surface to work with. And yep, there it was. Starscream had started to dribble.

“Nnn. Don’t want to,” Starscream said, shifting on the table. His thighs parted, his valve visible in the shadow of their apex. The scent of his lubricant wafted free, tangy and tantalizing where it wisped over Sunstreaker’s chemo-receptors.

Sunstreaker forced himself not to look. The temptation to indulge would be too great. Sneaky Seeker trying to distract him.

“Tough.”

Sunstreaker dabbed the cloth in cleansing fluid and wrapped the damp mesh around Starscream’s spike, stroking him from root to tip in several quick motions. Starscream hissed through his vents, his back arching up off the table.

“That’s cold!” he snapped.

Sunstreaker chuckled. “It’s not that bad, you sparkling.” He peered at Starscream’s spike and deemed it clean enough. Though there it was again, more dribble. “I’m going to have to cap you.”

Starscream squirmed again. “Torture,” he said, petulant. “You are so cruel to me.”

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and skimmed his tray again, plucking the small spike cap from the carefully arranged instruments. It wouldn’t hurt Starscream. It would simply keep more pre-fluid from seeping free and ruining Sunstreaker’s hard work before it had time to dry. If anything, it would feel good to Starscream, knowing his penchant for sounding in the hands of someone he trusted.

Namely Sunstreaker.

His engine purred as his memory core brought up examples, many of them. Starscream begged so prettily when Sunstreaker eased the rods into his transfluid channel, gradually working up in size until Starscream’s spike seemed to bulge. Trapped on the edge of overload, his spike stuffed, and his frame taut – Starscream was absolutely gorgeous.

Sunstreaker fitted the cap over the end of Starscream’s spike, the inch-long tip easing into Starscream’s transfluid channel easily. Starscream shivered, making a low sound of need in his intake, talons scraping on the table cover. His hips rolled upward, pushing his spike toward Sunstreaker’s fingers.

“This better not take long,” Starscream muttered. “My patience is wearing thin.”

Sunstreaker barked a laugh. “I haven’t even started yet.” He took a corner of the mesh cloth and wiped it around the edges of the cap, but no pre-fluid had leaked free. Perfect.

Now for the hard part.

Sunstreaker picked up the bottle of the base coat, what he’d use to outline his design, and a small, flat brush. His processor was already churning on the best way to decorate Starscream’s spike. Whorls around the crimson highlights, he was thinking, and angled lines that curved to follow Starscream’s biolights, and two lines coming to a point near his pierced caudal node.

Yes, that would do nicely.

“Hold still,” Sunstreaker said as he leaned closer to Starscream’s spike, resisting the urge to lick it. “I don’t want to mess up.”

No sooner had the tip of his brush touched the base of Starscream’s spike then did Starscream squirm, his hips wriggling. Sunstreaker luckily had the good sense to pull back before doing much more than touch Starscream’s spike, preventing a mess.

He leaned back and glared at Starscream, who gave him a smile that attempted to be sheepish, but erred more toward smugness.

“Oops,” Starscream said.

“I’ll show you ‘oops’,” Sunstreaker replied churlishly. He slipped a hand beneath the table and pressed one of the buttons, activating the table’s special feature.

There was an audible hum and snap before Starscream’s frame went still, magnetized to the berth. He couldn’t lift his arms, his legs, couldn’t shift or squirm or anything. Which meant he couldn’t ruin Sunstreaker’s hard work either.

Starscream’s optics widened. “What is that?” He tried to move his helm, and managed to look to the left and right in small degrees, but nothing else. His fingers could twitch, but his palms and wrists were stuck. His wing panels fluttered, but his wings wouldn’t move.

Mass-based magnetism, the heavier it was, the stronger the table held it down. The fact that you could key it into an energy signature for pinpoint effectiveness made it perfect. Sunstreaker fragging adored this investment.

“Magnets,” Sunstreaker said, and got back to work, the brush sweeping over Starscream’s spike with ease now that there was no danger of Starscream squirming. Ah, this would make the whole process much, much faster.

“What? That’s not fair!” Starscream cried, and his vents cycled air in an annoyed burst. “I didn’t know this table had magnets.”

“Secret weapon,” Sunstreaker replied as he dutifully applied the base coat. He might even manage to make this look sexy rather than ridiculous.

Starscream huffed again. “Cheater,” he accused and his fingers twitched. “That tickles, you know.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Why are you so mean to me?”

“Because I can.”

Sunstreaker didn’t bother to hide his amusement. Starscream’s voice was getting increasingly petulant, but his field was hot and heavy as it swept against Sunstreaker’s. There was amusement in the edges as well, matching the little hitches of his vents – Starscream was struggling not to giggle.

Sunstreaker swept the brush over Starscream’s spike one last time before he was satisfied with the base coat. He dropped the dirtied brush into a cup filled with solvent, capped the base color, and perused his options. The next coat would be a primer, something to go beneath the glitter.

He’d brought out several shades of red, and he already knew he intended a gold overlay, but now he wondered if perhaps a dark navy would better suit. Hm.

“What’s taking so long?” Starscream demanded.

“Perfection takes time,” Sunstreaker commented, and snagged the royal blue after all. The gold would darken it, he thought.

He leaned against the table and started to trace his base coat with the royal blue, the soft swishes of the brush barely audible over Starscream’s growling engine. The Seeker continued to huff and mutter, though he couldn’t move an inch.

Well, he couldn’t. But his spike twitched and the smell of lubricant became all the stronger. Sunstreaker didn’t have to look to know that Starscream’s valve was growing swollen, and no doubt the table beneath his aft had become wet from dripping lubricant. He could see the blinking of Starscream’s biolights from his peripheral vision, and Starscream’s frame exuded heat.

“Too much time,” Starscream grumbled. “That tickles.”

A complaint Sunstreaker had already heard before. He shook his head and continued, halfway done with the second layer. Approval thickened in his spark. His intuition paid off. The whorls and swirls accentuated Starscream’s spike nicely and the dark blue was a perfect contrast to the crimson of his plating.

“Everything tickles,” Sunstreaker retorted as he teased the brush tip nearer to Starscream’s spike head, an expert twist of his wrist finishing off the last layer with a flourish.

He capped the blue paint, deposited the brush in the solvent cup, and grabbed the last bottle. This was the gold glitter, in a clear suspension paint, and if he’d done his chemistry right, it would go on easy, dry fast, and stay in place until a special solvent had been applied to remove it.

“I think you like to complain,” Sunstreaker added with a long look at his roommate. “You must just like the sound of your own voice.”

Starscream’s fingers twitched. “That’s not true.” He sniffed and Sunstreaker had no doubt he would have looked away in a huff if he’d been capable.

Sunstreaker chuckled and got to work with the last layer, the first swipe of the glitter going on so smoothly he felt a huge burst of pride. “This is the last layer, you sparkling. Think you can manage not to complain the whole time?”

“No.”

“Figures.”

Starscream shivered. “It tickles,” he said. “And it’s cold, too.” His spike twitched beneath Sunstreaker’s brush, and Sunstreaker paused. Luckily the twitch hadn’t messed up his paintwork.

He held Starscream’s spike by the base to keep it steady and continued working, feeling the pulse and throb of Starscream’s arousal with his fingertips. Starscream loosed a soft moan and Sunstreaker had no doubt he would have squirmed if not for the magnets.

Sunstreaker’s engine purred as the glitter came to life under his paintbrush. It shone where he overlaid it on the blue, yet the blue was still visible beneath. The two complemented each other, and another burst of pride thrummed to his core. Perhaps if Starscream’s client enjoyed this well enough, it could be another form of income for Sunstreaker. He could mix the glitter paints and sell them.

There was a thought.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Starscream demanded.

Nettlesome little Seeker.

Sunstreaker had, in fact, finished the glitter overlay. He wiped the excess from his brush, but pretended he wasn’t done. He kept sweeping the brush over the delicately applied lines, tracing them over and over.

“Nope,” he said, and grinned as Starscream squirmed as much as he was capable.

The Seeker loosed a burst of frustrated air, his field smacking against Sunstreaker’s. “You’re getting slower in your old age.”

Sunstreaker snorted. “Insulting me won’t make me work faster.”

“Would begging help?”

“It’s a start.”

Starscream sniffed. “Well, I’m not going to beg.”

Contrary Seeker.

Sunstreaker shook his head and decided enough was enough. He was teasing Starscream as well as himself. The scent of the Seeker’s arousal had filled his olfactory sensors now and all he wanted to do was taste Starscream.

So he capped the glitter paint and set it aside.

“You know, you’re very rude,” Sunstreaker said as he finally set the brush into the solvent cup and straightened.

He leaned over the table, his hands to either side of Starscream’s shoulders, as he looked down at his roommate.

“Here I am doing something nice for you, and you’ve nothing but snarls for me,” Sunstreaker added as he leaned close enough that he could feel Starscream’s ex-vents over his lips.

Starscream huffed a ventilation. “Well, you magnetized me to a table. And you tortured me with a paintbrush. And you interrupted my reading. Who’s the rude one now?”

“Still you,” Sunstreaker said, and dragged his nasal ridge over Starscream’s. “But I’m thinking if you’re not going to be polite and quiet, I’ll just have to make you.”

Starscream’s optics flared. “We don’t do gags, remember?”

“Who said anything about a gag?”

Sunstreaker leaned back, but only so he could give himself enough space to climb onto the table. The magnets would not affect him, as they’d been keyed to Starscream’s frame, and so he was free to straddle Starscream’s chassis without resting his weight on the Seeker’s cockpit.

“I need to wait for the paint to dry anyway,” Sunstreaker said as he rubbed his palm over his heated interface array, his valve throbbing with excitement. “And we need to do something with your mouth that doesn’t involve being rude.”

His panels clicked open, his spike jutting free, and his valve pulsing as the heated air rising from Starscream’s chassis ghosted across it. Sunstreaker shivered and licked his lips as he scrubbed the heel of his palm over his array, fingers curling to dip into his valve and tease the first ring.

Starscream’s engine whined. His gaze dropped to Sunstreaker’s array, optics bright and hungry. He, too, licked his lips.

“You… had something in mind, I take it?” he said.

Sunstreaker slipped two fingers deeper, and lubricant dribbled down them, dripping on Starscream’s cockpit. “I did.” His palm rubbed over his anterior node and Sunstreaker’s hips rolled forward, a low burst of air gusting from his vents.

Primus, that felt good. His node throbbed against his palm, swollen and aching. His calipers cycled on nothing. He curled his fingers and stroked the nodes along the inside of his rim, a shudder rippling down his backstrut.

Starscream’s intake bobbed. “You’re so mean,” he said, though it was barely above a whisper. His field throbbed with hunger.

Sunstreaker smirked and withdrew his fingers, lubricant a bright sheen upon them. He popped them into his mouth, sucking them clean with an exaggerated motion.

“I know,” he said as he popped them free.

Starscream made a dying sound. “Get up here, get up here,” he demanded, and Sunstreaker knew if he was free, he’d be thrashing right now. But all he could do was make these urgent noises, his engine revving, his fingers twitching.

Sunstreaker almost refused on principle alone, but his valve was throbbing, and all he wanted was Starscream’s mouth on it, so he accepted the order. For now.

He moved forward, careful not to put too much weight on Starscream’s wings, and settled his groin over Starscream’s face. He spread his thighs enough that he could look down, see Starscream at the intersection of them, and leaned back, bracing his hands on the table. This put his knees and shins against Starscream’s wings, but judging by the noises Starscream made, it wasn’t too much stress for them.

Good.

He felt Starscream’s ex-vents before he felt the first swipe of a glossa. Sunstreaker shivered as Starscream tasted him, a long, savoring lick from caudal edge to anterior node. Starscream moaned against Sunstreaker’s valve and licked deeper, his glossa pushing into Sunstreaker’s valve as lubricant trickled across it.

Need shot like lightning through Sunstreaker’s lines. His hips rocked toward Starscream’s mouth, feeling the nudge of Starscream’s nasal ridge against his anterior cluster. More pleasure zinged through his system, radiating in a flash-fire from his groin outward.

“A much… better use for your mouth… than being rude,” Sunstreaker gasped out, his optics dimming as he rocked onto Starscream’s mouth.

Starscream lapped his caudal node and then sucked on it, his denta scraping the sensitive nub gently. Sunstreaker’s hips jerked; his fingers curled. He pushed himself up a little, bracing his weight on Starscream’s cockpit, his valve fitting more firmly over Starscream’s mouth.

Starscream made a muffled noise, his optics flashing, and doubled his efforts. Lips and glossa and denta suckling on Sunstreaker’s folds and consuming him. Sunstreaker panted, hips moving harder and faster, and he didn’t for a moment fear smothering Starscream. If he was uncomfortable, he’d let Sunstreaker know.

But all he did was work harder, deeper. His glossa plunged into Sunstreaker’s valve, his nasal ridge scrubbing pleasure against Sunstreaker’s node. He moaned, the vibrations bouncing over Sunstreaker’s swollen lips.

Sunstreaker gasped a moan, his hips rocking faster now, his valve throbbing, and his nodes pulsing with need. His spike dribbled, dripping pre-fluid onto Starscream’s face, and the slick sounds of lubricant and glossa were an erotic tune to his audials.

His hands scraped at Starscream’s abdominal armor. His cables trembled. Heat spun and spun inside of him, building to a tighter coil.

Starscream’s denta scraped gently over his valve folds. He found Sunstreaker’s caudal node and suckled upon it, mouth pulling pressure on the nub as if it were a spike. Sunstreaker’s hips surged with the motion, his valve pulsing needfully. He gasped, vents struggling to draw in cooler air, as a low rattle started in his knees and worked its way through his entire frame.

His field spun out of control, latching onto Starscream’s and demanding more, which Starscream aggressively gave. He lapped at Sunstreaker’s valve as though his overload was a challenge.

Sunstreaker’s head tipped back, lips parted in a keen as heat turned to molten metal, pooling in his groin and focused on his valve nodes. His calipers relentlessly cycled, squeezing tight on a spike that wasn’t present, while his nodes throbbed heatedly. Charge crackled through his array, folded in on itself, igniting his internal sensors.

Starscream hummed against his valve, his lips and denta enclosed on Sunstreaker’s anterior node as his glossa swept down, flicking Sunstreaker’s caudal node.

He shattered, hips rocking in stuttered bursts as overload swept him up and tossed him down. His vision briefly blanked out, mouth agape as he drew in desperate breaths, and he heard the horrendous sound of him scratching Starscream’s plating, but it was all secondary.

Starscream purred against his folds, lapping up every drip of lubricant that pulsed from Sunstreaker’s valve. His field stroked over Sunstreaker’s, and he was utterly pleased with himself, because of course he was.

Gasping, Sunstreaker fell back into his frame and rolled his hips back, planting his aft on Starscream’s chestplate, away from those dangerous lips.

“Sensitive as always,” Starscream murmured even as he licked his lips and smirked. His face was painted in lubricant, and yet he still managed to look like he’d maintained the upper hand.

Sunstreaker panted and struggled to get himself back upright. He shifted back, straddling Starscream’s abdomen, taking his weight of the Seeker’s wings.

“Gonna de-magnetize me now?” Starscream asked.

Sunstreaker shook his head and scooted a little bit further back, until he sat upon Starscream’s thighs. It was still hard to focus after that overload, but he pushed through it, taking the head of Starscream’s spike between two fingers.

He peered at his paint-work, tilting Starscream’s spike in all directions to make sure he hadn’t erred anywhere. But no. Not only was the paint perfect, it was also dry. Which meant it was time for a field test.

“Why are you torturing me?” Starscream demanded as his spike throbbed in Sunstreaker’s light hold.

Sunstreaker’s lips curved. “I told you to be still. It’s not my fault you aren’t capable of obeying,” he purred.

He carefully held Starscream’s spike with one hand, and plucked the spike cap off with the other. Pre-fluid instantly welled up, dampening the head of Starscream’s spike before it trickled over the sides.

“You’re going to mess up the paint!” Starscream sounded horrified.

Sunstreaker chuckled. “You have such little faith in me.” He stroked his thumb over the head of Starscream’s spike, painting it in pre-fluid. “This is a new blend of mine. Fluid and friction resistant. Though of course, I’ll need to do some testing before I send you off to your client tomorrow.”

He curled his fingers around Starscream’s spike and stroked him, root to tip, watching as Starscream shivered. A whine worked its way out of Starscream’s intake. A tremble raced across the Seeker’s plating, but otherwise, he couldn’t move.

“You missed your calling,” Starscream gasped as his spike throbbed in Sunstreaker’s grip. “You should have been an interrogator.”

Sunstreaker barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly and gave Starscream’s spike a squeeze.

Starscream sucked in a ventilation. “Primus,” he hissed through his denta. “Stop teasing me and do something already!”

“Testy, testy.” Sunstreaker swept his thumb over the head of Starscream’s spike again before he released it. “I suppose it’s time to move to the testing phase then.” He rose up on his knees, scooted a few inches forward, until Starscream’s spike was pointed at his valve.

He reached for Starscream’s spike again, holding it between two fingers, directing the head to rub against his valve folds. The sensitivity from his prior overload had faded, leaving nothing but the hum of rising arousal.

“You could release the magnets,” Starscream said.

“Not yet.” Sunstreaker brushed the spikehead over his anterior node and shivered before he guided it to the rim of his valve and fitted the rounded head into him. “I kind of like having you at my mercy.”

Starscream shuddered, his red optics darkening to a volcanic heat. “You would.” His glossa swept over his lips, his armor twitching. “Primus, you feel good.”

Sunstreaker grinned. “I know.” He sank further down, inch by inch, swallowing Starscream’s spike until the head of it notched against his ceiling node. Charge zapped between their arrays, and Sunstreaker shuddered. “So do you.”

“Of course I do!” Even magnetized to a berth, Starscream managed to preen, as his optics darkened to a molten hue. He swept his glossa over his lips. “And if you let me go, I could make you feel even better.”

“Hah. Another one of your lines, I take it?” Sunstreaker asked as he rested his weight on Starscream’s groin and circled his hips, stirring Starscream’s spike within him. He could feel Starscream throbbing, pent-up charge snapping between their nodes.

“If it works, that’s all that matters,” Starscream retorted and moaned again, his armor juttering in place. What little could move, did, allowing Sunstreaker glimpses of the shiny cabling beneath.

Shiny, of course, because he wouldn’t allow for his roommate to be anything less than perfect, inside and out, even if he had to ensure it himself. Sometimes, if Starscream didn’t have a client, he’d get too absorbed in his readings or his studies and let his personal maintenance slip.

Silly Seeker.

Sunstreaker licked his lips and ground down, the spike grinding against his ceiling node for several long moments, sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through his array.

“Don’t overload,” he said as he rose up on his knees again, peering down between his thighs to see Starscream’s spike coated in his lubricants.

The paint, however, remained intact. If anything, the glitter seemed all the more prominent with lubricant covering it. A little bump and grind had no effect on it. Good to know.

Still. Further testing would be needed.

Starscream growled. “That’s hardly going to be an issue.”

Sunstreaker barked a laugh. “You’d be surprised.” He sank back down, swallowing Starscream into his valve again, his calipers rippling easily around the length.

He rolled his hips, taking Starscream in long, shallow thrusts. He leaned forward, bracing his hands to either side of Starscream’s waist, just below the bottom edge of his wings, changing the angle. Starscream’s spike now raked across a secondary ring of sensor clusters and Sunstreaker moaned.

Primus, it felt good. He could do this for hours, just slowly pumping his hips, riding Starscream’s hot, throbbing spike. Letting it stir his nodes into a long, lazy overload that would leave him tingling for twice as long afterward.

“Hnnngh.” Starscream growled a moan. “Let me go, Sunny.”

“Nope.” Sunstreaker enunciated the glyph with a sly grin. If Starscream was truly distressed, he’d let Sunstreaker know. Right now, he was just protesting to be cute.

Sunstreaker shifted his weight to one hand and allowed the other to explore. His palm stroked across the flat of Starscream’s wing and his fingers traced the edges of it, as it curled around and met again at Starscream’s chassis.

Starscream shivered.

“I never really get to touch,” Sunstreaker murmured as he drank in Starscream’s expression, one of frustrated pleasure, but also the trust. Starscream need only say the word, and Sunstreaker would stop.

But he didn’t say the word. And his field spoke of nothing but pleasure and affection. Well, there was irritation and frustration present as well, but that was to be expected. Starscream hated to be denied pleasure of any kind, and that he trusted Sunstreaker with these games, meant the world.

Sunstreaker’s spark throbbed with affection, a fondness that he made himself tuck down deep. Attachments such as these weren’t meant to last. That didn’t mean, however, he wouldn’t nestle it close.

He dragged his fingertips over Starscream’s seam, circling inward toward his cockpit. He traced around the transteel protecting delicate flight components. He teased the zigzag central seam concealing Starscream’s spark, remembering well the taste of Starscream’s spark energies. So strong. So vibrant. The complete opposite of Sunstreaker’s underenergized one.

“I’ll let you touch anywhere you like,” Starscream purred with the tiniest of squirms the magnetic field allowed. “All you have to do is let me go.”

Sunstreaker chuckled. He pressed his palm over Starscream’s cockpit and sank down onto Starscream’s spike, letting it throb within him as his calipers greedily clutched at it. He leaned forward, enough to brush their nasal ridges together.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” he said. “Those lines aren’t going to work on me.”

Starscream pouted. “You’re so mean.”

Sunstreaker circled his hips, again grinding Starscream’s spike on a deep node, one that rarely received attention. “I promise to be very, very nice once I’ve had my overload.” His lips brushed over Starscream’s, but not quite close enough for a kiss. “Consider this punishment for making me fetch you for your paint.”

“So mean,” Starscream repeated, even as he sharply ex-vented a burst of heat. “You could at least kiss me, you know.”

“That I can do.”

Sunstreaker sealed his mouth over Starscream’s, swallowing the moan that arose in the Seeker’s intake. It was a teasing kiss, his glossa touching Starscream’s before darting away again, much to Starscream’s frustration.

Sunstreaker rocked his hips in minute movements, stirring Starscream’s spike within him, and it was good. Very good. But not enough friction to fully satisfy. Given the way Starscream trembled beneath him, heat wafting from his frame in waves, perhaps Sunstreaker ought to pick up the pace before he fried a circuit.

He gave a parting nip to Starscream’s hips and withdrew from the kiss, albeit reluctantly. He slid back, planting his hands on Starscream’s abdominal armor as he started to pump his hips, lifting and dropping them, rolling them forward and back.

“Don’t overload,” Sunstreaker said even as Starscream whined in frustration, “and I’ll give you a reward.”

“You had better!” Starscream’s armor started to clatter. His optics flared, charge spilling out from his substructure, his fingers twitching.

His field battered at Sunstreaker’s, thick with need and arousal. He was gnawing on his bottom lip, making all of these beautifully hungry sounds in his intake. His vents heaved, cooling fans rattling.

Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.

Sunstreaker panted as he sank down and ground deep, riding Starscream’s spikehead on his ceiling node. There was so much lubricant now that he could hear it squelching, dripping onto Starscream. He’d need a good wash after this. Sunstreaker would be all too happy to oblige.

Heat coiled in his abdomen. Charge skittered in his array. Sunstreaker’s head dipped, his lips parting in several sharp gasps.

“Nnn, this isn’t fair,” Starscream moaned, his engine revving loudly. “You’re so hot right now. I want to touch you.”

Sunstreaker licked his lips. “You are touching me,” he said, and lifted his gaze with a little smirk. “Right where I need it most.” He clenched down hard, squeezing Starscream’s spike for emphasis.

“Ohhhh, line-stealer!” Starscream whimpered. “Awful slag like that is my thing.”

Sunstreaker huffed a laugh. A tingle raced up and down his backstrut. “No, this is your thing,” he said with a dance of his hips and another jolt in his array. “Oh, frag. I’m gonna overload soon.” He shifted his weight so he could slide a hand around his spike, pumping it in long, squeezing strokes. “All over you, too. Paint you in my transfluid. Mark you as mine.”

Starscream moaned and shivered. His winglets fluttered. “Do it.” He licked his lips, his optics back to that fiery hue. “Come on, Sunny. Make me dirty.”

Primus!

Those awful lines should not have worked on him, but they did. Sunstreaker groaned, long and deep, squeezing his spike so hard it should have hurt. The heat building in his groin burst, overload slamming through his frame and making him writhe atop Starscream. His valve clamped down, spasming around Starscream, even as his spike spurted, long and narrow ropes of transfluid that painted Starscream’s cockpit and armor.

Sunstreaker panted, his entire frame trembling and throbbing, his spark whirling. Charge crackled through his valve, dancing between his nodes and Starscream’s receptors. The overload went on and on, buzzing down his backstrut, his hips dancing and cables going taut. His spark hummed, his vents whirring madly. His vision went a little staticky before it clarified.

Sunstreaker moaned quietly, feeling dazed as he sank down, his weight resting on Starscream’s groin. He pumped his spike gently, through the last stirrings of overload, his processor spinning.

That had been amazing.

Starscream twitched beneath him. “Now are you going to let me go?” he asked, a touch petulant, but also agitated. His entire frame was rattling, his vents roaring, his field staticky with need.

Sunstreaker forced himself out of his daze. He rose up on his knees and peered down at Starscream’s groin, liberally coated in fluids. Yet, the paint remained, unharmed by charge and friction. Fantastic.

“I think you’ve earned it,” Sunstreaker said.

He eased back until he was kneeling between Starscream’s knees. He braced one shaky arm on the table and leaned down, reaching under the edge for the button to disengage the magnets. There was a little click and clunk before the table ceased to hum and Starscream was free.

“Finally!” he gasped and made to move, only for his frame to barely twitch, one arm flopping around. “Why can’t I move?”

“Your frame doesn’t realize you can yet.”

Sunstreaker smirked and straightened, curving his hands around Starscream’s knees to either side of him.

“The effect will wear off in a few minutes,” he added as he slid his hands up Starscream’s thighs, lifting Starscream’s lower half as he did so.

Sunstreaker pulled and lifted, leaning forward until he had Starscream bent nearly in half, the Seeker’s knees draped over his shoulders and his beautiful array ripe for the tasting. Sunstreaker licked his lips and leaned in close, in-venting the scent of Starscream’s arousal, the lubricant soaking his valve.

“Just long enough for me to make you scream,” Sunstreaker said with a murmur and licked a long, wet path from Starscream’s pierced caudal node to his swollen, throbbing anterior node.

Starscream whimpered, back arching as little as it was able, his hands forming fists. “You are a demon,” he moaned, his thighs trembling to either side of Sunstreaker’s helm, spread so wide they barely touched the edges of his helm vents.

“I know,” Sunstreaker murmured and pressed a kiss to Starscream’s anterior node cluster. He licked into the upper edge of Starscream’s valve, lapping up lubricant and touching that first ring of sensors.

Starscream’s moan was louder this time, his engine roaring. He twitched, frame barely wriggling in Sunstreaker’s grip.

“That’s… not fair,” he gasped, his engine kicking into a rumbling whine as he started to twitch on the berth, his limbs and frame making all of those tiny movements.

Sunstreaker hummed into Starscream’s array and buried his glossa deep, rubbing his nasal ridge against Starscream’s anterior node, and his chin against Starscream’s caudal node. His Seeker all but shrieked, hips bucking, and there was a scraping sound as his claws dug into the tabletop.

Sunstreaker smirked against Starscream’s valve. He pulled back, traced his glossa around Starscream’s rim. He pulled each valve fold into his mouth, giving them a suckle before releasing them with a pop. He nipped down to Starscream’s caudal node, grasping the piercing between his denta and giving it a light tug.

Starscream garbled out a sound that was pure pleasure, his hips grinding against Sunstreaker’s face, his feet pounding against Sunstreaker’s back. His vents gasped, talons scraping harder at the table.

Charge thickened in his array, strong enough that Sunstreaker could taste it and smell it. He stroked his hands along the outside of Starscream’s legs, his thighs, his hips, up to mid-chassis. He licked a wet line up the middle of the plush, swollen valve and drew Starscream’s plump little anterior cluster into his mouth. He laved it with kisses, and then sucked on it, long and deep pulls that had Starscream thrashing against him.

“Can I overload?” Starscream gasped out, his wings battering the table as his helm tossed and turned.

Sunstreaker could look down the length of him, saw the arousal and need written into Starscream’s expression. Heat billowed from his frame, his lips swollen from gnawing at them.

Sunstreaker didn’t answer. Not at first. Starscream didn’t sound desperate enough.

So he sucked harder on Starscream’s node, lips forming a tight seal around it. The tip of his glossa stroked over it, a soft counterpoint to the tug of the suction.

Starscream writhed, more movement available to him now, his heelstruts drumming against Sunstreaker’s back. His hands made desperate grabs at Sunstreaker, but quickly dropped back to the table, clawing the surface.

Sunstreaker hummed, releasing Starscream’s anterior node with an audible pop. He held Starscream’s gaze as he went back to licking, long sweeps of his glossa up and down and around Starscream’s rim.

Starscream quivered in his grip. His valve pulsed. Lubricant dripped steadily from his valve, over the caudal lip and down his aft. Sunstreaker’s mouth and chin were coated in it, and Primus, did he smell sweet. Like an energon treat Sunstreaker wanted to savor.

“Please, Sunny, please!” Starscream pleaded, his thighs pushing inward, his heelstruts urging and leaving scrapes in his paint. “Let me overload!”

“I love it when you beg,” Sunstreaker said against his valve, lips moving in soft caresses against the soaked, swollen mesh.

“Because you’re a sadist!” Starscream all but screeched, his head tossing from left and right. “Let me overload!”

Sunstreaker chuckled and nuzzled Starscream’s the node at the base of Starscream’s spike, flicking the piercing with his glossa. “Didn’t I say this was your reward?” he asked with an almost devilish cant to his field.

Starscream was going to be furious.

Sunstreaker licked another long line up Starscream’s valve, savoring his lubricants, ending with a flick to Starscream’s anterior cluster that made Starscream jerk.

“That means you can overload at any time,” Sunstreaker purred and latched onto Starscream’s main cluster again, pinning it between his denta.

Starscream’s shriek could have been arousal or fury or both at once. Either way, it was hot as the Pit. As was the way he rode Sunstreaker’s face with sudden abandon, his head tossing back, his mouth opening in a wordless cry.

His valve throbbed against Sunstreaker, radiating heat. His thighs quivered, heelstruts scraping, scraping. Charge rose and crested, tasting like ozone in Starscream’s lubricant.

Sunstreaker hummed and dove back in with gusto, making satisfied sounds as he ate at Starscream’s valve and sipped at his lubricant. He could taste the oncoming release, and knew that Starscream was holding back.

Just to be a pain, no doubt.

Sunstreaker gave him another savoring lick and curled his hands around Starscream’s hips. He looked down the length of his Seeker’s frame, catching and holding Starscream’s gaze, his lips inches from Starscream’s swollen, main node.

“Overload for me, sweetness,” he said, putting enough command in his tone that he knew Starscream would be compelled to obey. “Give me a show.”

He followed it up with a lick and suck to Starscream’s anterior node, humming around the sensitive nub.

And Starscream obeyed, his heelstruts snapping against Sunstreaker’s back as he canted his hips and rode Sunstreaker’s face, his frame a creature of pleasured motion. He tipped his head back and hissed a wordless noise of pleasure, talons scraping a long line in the table.

Sunstreaker would have to pay for the damage later, but Primus, was it worth it. Worth every shanix of pay-dock to see the bliss stretched over Starscream’s face, to feel the delight in his field, to watch him come undone in Sunstreaker’s grip.

Sunstreaker quickly lowered Starscream’s hips back into his lap and grasped at Starscream, getting enough of a hold on his chassis to tug Starscream up and into kissing range. He pressed a hand to the back of Starscream’s head as he sealed their lips together, swallowing Starscream’s cries of pleasure with his mouth.

Starscream’s hips rocked against his, the tip of his depressurizing spike leaving streaks on Sunstreaker’s abdominal armor, just as Sunstreaker had marked Starscream. He clutched at Sunstreaker’s upper arms as he shivered, relenting into the kiss with a submission that always made Sunstreaker’s spark clench.

If only he could keep this. If only.

Starscream hummed into the kiss and drew back, nuzzling his face against Sunstreaker’s. He pressed their foreheads together, still drawing ventilations orally.

“You,” he panted, “are a menace.”

Sunstreaker cupped his aft, giving it a squeeze. “Ditto,” he said.

“And now we’re a mess,” Starscream commented.

Sunstreaker didn’t even have to look. He could feel the fluids coating his frame everywhere. Could smell them even.

“At least the paint works,” he said.

Starscream loosed a tired chuckle and tipped his head down, resting it on Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “So it does. My client will be pleased.”

His wings were twitching, Sunstreaker noticed. Little happy flicks that warmed Sunstreaker’s spark.

“And his sub, I wager. What is it with Praxians and their need for garish decorations anyway?” Sunstreaker wondered aloud.

Starscream snickered. “You’ll have to ask a Praxian. Not that Vosians are any better.” He squirmed in Sunstreaker’s grip, moving closer, until their chestplates touched. “You should see the jewels we tend to drape upon ourselves.”

He stroked a hand down Starscream’s back, though careful to avoid the post-overload sensitive wing edges. “Maybe I will someday.”

“Mmm. I’ll take you.” Starscream nuzzled into his intake, pressing a kiss to his cables.

Sunstreaker’s spark squeezed again. Don’t make promises you won’t keep, he wanted to snap. But he didn’t.

“We should get clean,” he said instead.

Starscream wriggled closer, his thighs clamping around Sunstreaker’s hips and his lips brushing over Sunstreaker’s cables. “Not yet,” he said, sounding sleepy. “My appointment with Bluestreak isn’t until a cycle from now. We have time.”

“I need to reapply the paint,” Sunstreaker said, but he found himself fully relaxing into the embrace, his engine purring as Starscream cuddled him. It was usually Sunstreaker demanding such closeness afterward. This was a nice change.

“It won’t take you long. I know you were only teasing earlier,” Starscream retorted, and he ex-vented a long, slow billow of heated air. “It’s my turn to want cuddles.”

Sunstreaker leaned his head against Starscream’s and stroked a hand down the Seeker’s back. “If you insist.”

“I do.” Starscream wriggled more firmly against him. “And then I want a wash, a wax, and a polish.”

“Oh, is that all?”

Starscream nipped his intake, though it barely counted as a nip. “Hush you. I need to be well-rested. I plan on earning a big tip later.”

Sunstreaker chuckled. “Then I’ll make sure you sparkle prettily enough to dazzle even the pickiest of Praxians.” Not that it would be hard. Starscream dazzled pretty well on his own.

“I know you will.” Starscream sighed softly, his ventilations evening out.

Sunstreaker would have to jostle him, move them to a berth where a cuddling nap would be far more comfortable than this rigid table, but for now, this was fine. A cuddly Starscream was a rare indulgence, and Sunstreaker didn’t want to shatter the moment. What was a little discomfort in the face of this?

He already knew someday he’d have to let Starscream go.

Until then, however, Starscream was his to spoil.

And that would have to do.

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