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a/n: Giftfic for theaircommand in honor of their nuptials. :)

Title: Unspoken
Universe: All This and Heaven Too
Characters: Starscream/Sunstreaker
Rated: K+
Description: There are certain words Starscream doesn’t dare say, no matter how often he thinks them.



‘I love you.’

How many times has Starscream whispered the words, but only when he’s certain Sunstreaker can’t hear him? More times than he count. Too many nights spent curled together, like they are right now, with the truth brimming in his spark, but fear keeping it contained.

Starscream should be recharging. But he’s not. His processor is too busy churning all over again, gnawing on thoughts and plans and dreams, none of them realized.

His gaze falls to his bedmate.

Sunstreaker is deep in recharge, all but dead to the world. He’s on top of Starscream, his head pillowed on Starscream’s chestplate though at an angle to accommodate his head vents. His arms are wrapped around Starscream’s chassis, and his lips are slightly parted as he ex-vents in his rest. His field thickly entangles with Starscream’s as though seeking comfort, and rightly so.

He’s always so clingy after they share sparks. Perhaps because it makes him vulnerable, and he must rely so heavily on Starscream in the aftermath.

Starscream cycles a ventilation and shutters his optics. He gently strokes a hand over Sunstreaker’s upper back, feeling the purr of his roommate’s frame against his. Idle and content. He smells of cleanser, expensive wax, and beneath it all, an underlying, lingering scent of paint. Starscream’s memorized it by now, this unique mingling of scents that whispers Sunstreaker to his chemoreceptors.

How many grand plans has he concocted, Starscream wonders. How many fanciful dreams of a future where his debts are paid and when he leaves, he takes Sunstreaker with him? He promises so many things. He vows to find the best medics, the best spark-specialists, the best of care. Surely there is an answer to Sunstreaker’s malady. Surely.

He crashes back to reality eventually. He remembers how stubborn Sunstreaker is. How independent. How he might view such an offer, no matter how sincere.

Love is as foreign for both of them, as is the concept of unrestricted wealth and opportunity. Love is a silly concept for two mechs who sell their time and their frames for creds. A fair bundle of creds, to be fair, but creds all the same.

They don’t have time for love. It has no place here.

And yet…

Starscream’s spark surges. He strokes Sunstreaker’s back again, and Sunstreaker makes a soft murmur, burrowing harder against him. His legs slide against Starscream’s into a tangle. His field knots tighter, as though afraid Starscream will leave him in the middle of the night. Starscream can still feel the faint pulses of Sunstreaker’s spark.

His under-energized, under-powered spark.

That’s what keeps him here, the overwhelming cost of his medical care. He’s one of the longest residents of Blue Sun, and as far as Starscream knows, Sunstreaker never intends to leave. It’s the only job he can hold that doesn’t penalize him for needing frequent breaks, and that allows him time to pursue his true interest in the arts. Of all the escorts, he’s been here the longest. He’s a pillar, a fixture, as much a part of Blue Sun as the polished flooring and the glittering skylights.

It’s not even a bad job.

But Starscream has only started realizing just how much he wants to keep Sunstreaker to himself. How much he wishes he could spoil his roommate, could bring him all the best things because he deserves them. And even more than that, how much he wishes he could be honest, that they could live together freely, as lovers do.

‘I love you,’ Starscream thinks, again, and he murmurs it ever so softly. He knows Sunstreaker can’t hear him right now, and it’s the only reason Starscream is so brave.

Sunstreaker will recharge the night and half the morning. He always does after they share sparks, after he draws on the energies of Starscream’s to help him get through another week without having to summon a medic.

Starscream strokes the back of his hand over Sunstreaker’s cheek, feels the warmth of his face against the dermal metal. Handsome and inexplicably kind, how can he not love this mech? How can he not long to keep Sunstreaker for his own?

How can he bring himself to let go?

Starscream cycles a ventilation and sinks back into the pillow behind him, letting it absorb the weight of his wings. He half-shutters his optics, and he calculates once more.

Ten more years at his current rate, he thinks. Ten more years and he’ll have enough creds to pay off his student loans, and cover living funds until he finds somewhere he plans to establish himself. Less if he continues to improve the value of his base fees and attract the high-tipping customers like Nightshade.

‘Will you let me keep you?’

Starscream wonders this as his fingers gently trace armor seams, memorizing what his optics have already learned.

‘Will you let me care for you? Will you let me love you?’

They are foolish notions, he knows. Which is why he balls them up and buries them down, shoves them so very deep, into the pit of his tank. Only now, in these rare moments of unguarded quiet, does he let himself dream. He lets himself whisper to audials that aren’t listening.

‘I love you. Won’t you come with me? Won’t you stay?’

There’s never an answer, and Starscream is relieved for it. He’ll never admit aloud that he’s afraid of what that answer might be. He doesn’t want the dream to be shattered. Better to hold it close, nestle it in the core of his spark, cling to this impossible hope.

Ten years. Maybe less.

Perhaps that’s how long it will take to build the courage to say the words aloud.

Starscream brushes his fingertips over the crown of Sunstreaker’s head, and firmly meshes their fields together, filling his with affection and comfort both.

For now, however, there is this, and only this. And it is enough.

****


a/n: Thanks for reading!
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