[TF] Renegades, Part Two
Aug. 5th, 2019 06:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Renegades, Pt II
Universe: Transformers
Characters: Skywarp, Starscream
Rated: K+
Description: Starscream confronts Skywarp about his Autobot lover and they both learn a little something about one another.
“So what’s his name?”
Skywarp didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who had disturbed his semi-private shower. They had shared washracks, not private ones, though sometimes he could pop into Starscream’s SIC quarters and use his if Starscream was feeling generous that day.
Not that Starscream often felt generous. He could be possessive most of the time, and had to be in a good mood to feel like sharing. Good moods were few and far between, with Megatron huffing and puffing all the time. Though sometimes, Starscream could disappear for a day or so, and come back with the closest thing to a smile Starscream could produce.
Skywarp often wondered why.
Anyway, Skywarp didn’t have to look to identify the owner of the voice, because he’d know that voice anywhere. Starscream’s vocalizer was pretty damn distinctive.
“Since when have you cared whose berth I’m in?” Skywarp asked as he scrubbed harder at the white marks on the inside of his thighs. Plenty of mechs had white paint. It was hardly incriminatory.
He was usually pretty good about keeping evidence off his frame, but he was riding hard this time, and had lost himself to the pleasure. What was it about Autobots that revved his turbines so much? Well, not Autobots in general.
Just one Autobot.
“I’ve always cared. But usually I can figure it out without having to ask.” Starscream leaned against the wall of the stall, arms crossed over his cockpit, and on anyone else, that pose would be casual.
There was nothing casual about Starscream. He was cunning and dangerous and purposeful. Which meant he wasn’t asking because he didn’t know. He was asking because he disapproved.
He couldn’t know about Mirage. So it had to be someone else.
No one knew about Mirage.
“Why does it matter?” Skywarp asked, and cursed himself because he couldn’t have sounded more guilty if he tried.
He ground his denta and checked his thighs. Free of paint. He wondered if there were any other incriminatory marks. The full-length mirror was past Starscream, in the main part of the washrack.
Starscream pushed off the wall and took two steps into the stall, his footsteps echoing around them. A touch dragged up Skywarp’s lower back, toward his wing hinge.
“You missed a spot here,” he said, with a drawl. “An interesting shade of blue, Skywarp. Don’t think I’ve seen that anywhere on base.”
Skywarp whirled around, whipping away from him, his back to the spray. “You’re that familiar with all the shades of blue?” he demanded, spark whirling with anxiety, prepping to warp at any second. “Didn’t know you saw that many berths, Star. Are you telling me the rumors are true?”
A spike of fury filled the washrack, and Starscream’s face went through a bevy of emotion. He never was good at hiding his anger. Skywarp would have crowed in victory, if he wasn’t already bracing for a hard knock and a quick getaway. He knew it was a low blow and a point of contention for his wingmate, but desperate times and all that.
But then Starscream did something weird.
Instead of lashing out, he folded his arms, drew a long, deep ventilation, and cocked a hip. His wings stopped twitching. He gave Skywarp a hard look.
Who was this rational Starscream and what had he done with the quick-to-temper Seeker Skywarp had come to know?
“Points for trying,” he said, in a controlled tone. “But I know a misdirect when I hear one. Call me a berthhopper if you like, but it’s not going to distract me from asking which Autobot berth you’ve been sneaking off to.”
Frag
Frag, frag, frag, frag.
Time go get the frag up out of here.
Starscream snatched his elbow, and Skywarp grounded in place before he could finish initiating the warp. Damn but his wingmate knew him far too well. He knew Skywarp wouldn’t teleport to flee while he was in contact with the person he was attempting to escape.
It would be pointless to take the enemy with him. Unless, of course, they were grounders, and he popped up thousands of feet in the air, only to let them drop. It was actually a pretty effective battle tactic. Especially with those blasted twins.
Though Mirage didn’t like it when Skywarp dropped his friends from great heights. So Skywarp didn’t do it anymore.
“Let me go!” Skywarp hissed, defensive protocols spiraling up, his blasters priming to fire. His thoughts slammed together and scattered through a dozen aborted plans of action.
“I’m sorry.”
Skywarp froze. “What?” he demanded, optics wide. He didn’t know Starscream was aware of the meaning of those words. He’d certainly never heard Starscream say them.
“You heard me.” Starscream scowled and let him go, folding his arms again, his shoulders hunching. “I’m not angry. I’m not going to report it. I just want to know.”
Skywarp narrowed his optics. “Why?”
Starscream pressed his mouth together. His lips formed a thin line. He glared.
A lightbulb burst to life over Skywarp’s head. His optics widened. “Oh, Primus! Do you--”
Starscream’s hand slapped over his mouth. “Shut up, you idiot. You want the whole base to know and get me killed?” He snarled.
Skywarp nodded behind Starscream’s hand, grabbed him by the wrist, and tugged. The world turned sideways around them, and the familiar freefall sensation of sliding through space swept him up until he landed with a thump in the quarters he shared with Thundercracker.
TC wasn’t home. Skywarp didn’t know where he was. He didn’t always share his schedule with Skywarp. They all had secrets.
Good.
It meant he wasn’t here to yell at Skywarp for dripping on the floor. He hadn’t dried off properly. He teleported here straight from the washrack.
Starscream jerked away from him. “I hate when you do that without warning.”
“You wanted to talk about this somewhere in private!”
“When did I say that?”
Skywarp snatched a towel from the floor on his side of the room and scrubbed at the suds still slicking his armor. He thought back on their conversation. “Didn’t you?”
Starscream sighed and scraped a hand down his face, only to pinch the bridge of his nasal structure. “Why did I think this conversation would go any other way?”
The silence of the room wrapped around them. Their room wasn’t soundproof, and if Soundwave was paying attention, he would probably pick up on what they were saying. But it was the closest thing to privacy without leaving the ship, and they couldn’t do that either.
They had to be around for Megatron to summon Starscream whenever he felt like it. Had a pattern, Megatron did, and when he’d finished sulking about losing to Optimus Prime, and drowning his disappointment in high grade, he’d pick himself up off the floor, summon Starscream, and demand a new plan of action. He’d demand an impossible solution.
It was a pattern.
Skywarp was as loyal a Decepticon as they come. But he was tired, and they weren’t getting anywhere, and it was frustrating.
“Mirage,” he admitted, staring at the floor, wicking away the last of the solvent from his seams. He dropped the towel, stepped on it, half-sparked swiping over the dribbles he’d made on the floor. “I’ve been seeing Mirage for a few decades now.”
“And here I thought you didn’t have it in you to be sneaky,” Starscream said, but there was surprisingly little anger or disgust in his voice. He sat on Thundercracker’s berth, one ankle folded over the other, and leaned back. “More than a fling then.”
“Yeah.”
“There is so much I don’t know about you.”
Skywarp picked up the towel, balling it between his hands. “There’s a lot you don’t know, period. We stopped asking each other questions centuries ago. We stopped caring.”
Starscream narrowed his optics. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Skywarp lobbed the dirty towel toward the corner, joining a pile of others he’d been meaning to take to recyc. “How’d you find out?”
Starscream clamped his mouth shut. His gaze skittered elsewhere, but his ailerons twitched, and Skywarp had flown alongside Starscream for too long not to recognize when he wanted to be evasive.
“Hey,” Skywarp said. “You don’t get to drag my most dangerous secret out of me and not tell me why or how you find out or what Autobot you’re fragging either.”
Starscream’s gaze shot toward him, his field spiking with outrage. “He’s my conjunx, not some roll in the berth,” he snapped.
Skywarp stared at him. “You have a conjunx?”
Starscream shifted. Discomfort radiated from him. “Since before the war,” he muttered and wiped a hand down his face again. “For the most part. It’s complicated. He’s an Autobot, and if I hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe we wouldn’t have ended up on opposite sides.”
Holy fragging Primus.
Skywarp’s processor whirled. It was like his entire universe had spun on an axis. He knew about Deadlock, of course, thanks to the Tuesday meetings. Just like he knew about Onslaught and Knock Out. But Starscream?
Damn, he should have seen it coming. Starscream had always been aiming to take over and finish the war quickly. Skywarp had assumed it was purely because Starscream had a thing about power and lots of it. He didn’t think love was any kind of a factor.
“Who is it?” Skywarp asked, suddenly greedy for information. There were so many tasty specimens in the Autobots -- though of course Mirage was the absolute best. Skywarp really wanted to know who could have tamed his wingmate.
Starscream stared at him for a long moment before he ex-vented quietly. “Wheeljack.”
“Really?” Skywarp tilted his head, contemplating. He supposed it made sense. They were both smart, and they were scientists, but Wheeljack was pretty plain looking. He thought for sure Starscream was going to say ‘Skyfire’. Everyone knew they had a history.
“I guess you’ll see the proof on Tuesday,” Starscream drawled.
“They told you about Tuesdays!” Skywarp slumped onto his own berth, his processor blown by all the new data. He had not thought today of all days would bring so many revelations. “This is kind of incredible though. I mean, we’ve all been trying to figure out a way to end the war, but with you, it might actually be possible.”
Starscream’s wings fluttered, as they usually did when he was pleased. “Well, that’s surprising.”
“What is?” Skywarp asked.
“For you to have faith in me.” Starscream grinned, but there was nothing friendly in it. “Can’t remember the last time that happened.”
Skywarp shifted and pulled himself further onto the berth, crossing his legs in front of him. “That’s not fair, Star. This is entirely different, and you know it.”
“If that’s what you say to make yourself feel better about it.” Starscream thumped the berth beneath him. “What about Thundercracker? He secretly seeing an Autobot, too?”
Skywarp pressed his lips together, but decided not to push. They could dismiss faith and the lack thereof later. “If he is, he hasn’t told me. Then again, you never said you were married to an Autobot, so I guess that’s fair.”
“Married.” Starscream repeated the word like he was tasting it, then scrunched up his nose. “I hate the humans. I hate Earth. We should have left a long time ago.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
“We’re working on it,” Skywarp said, to agree. “But you’ll find out more on Tuesday.”
Starscream chuckled, and there was something relaxed in it, something Skywarp hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “So I’ve been told.” He cycled a long ventilation and stood from the berth, brushing imaginary dust from his frame. “We have maneuvers first thing in the morning. Wherever Thundercracker is, remind him of them?”
“I’m not your message boy,” Skywarp said, but Starscream was already striding toward the door, unconcerned.
He paused, however, before hitting the panel to open it. He didn’t turn back to look at Skywarp, but he was clearly hesitating.
“This thing with your Autobot, is it serious?” Starscream asked.
Skywarp gnawed on his bottom lip. “You ever known me to stick around in one berth for longer than a week?”
“Guess that answers my question.” Starscream laughed softly before he palmed the door open. “See you in the morning.”
He stepped out and the door slid shut behind him, locking Skywarp into the quiet of his quarters. He ex-vented noisily and dropped wing-first onto the berth, groaning as he dragged his palms down his face.
There were so many ways that could have gone so horribly bad. Instead, it had completely turned his universe on its axis.
Primus, Starscream was a member of the club. Skywarp should have known. And Wheeljack! Wow, Mirage was going to flip a lid.
Skywarp folded his arms behind his head and grinned.
They actually had a chance now. He couldn’t frigging wait.
***
Universe: Transformers
Characters: Skywarp, Starscream
Rated: K+
Description: Starscream confronts Skywarp about his Autobot lover and they both learn a little something about one another.
“So what’s his name?”
Skywarp didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who had disturbed his semi-private shower. They had shared washracks, not private ones, though sometimes he could pop into Starscream’s SIC quarters and use his if Starscream was feeling generous that day.
Not that Starscream often felt generous. He could be possessive most of the time, and had to be in a good mood to feel like sharing. Good moods were few and far between, with Megatron huffing and puffing all the time. Though sometimes, Starscream could disappear for a day or so, and come back with the closest thing to a smile Starscream could produce.
Skywarp often wondered why.
Anyway, Skywarp didn’t have to look to identify the owner of the voice, because he’d know that voice anywhere. Starscream’s vocalizer was pretty damn distinctive.
“Since when have you cared whose berth I’m in?” Skywarp asked as he scrubbed harder at the white marks on the inside of his thighs. Plenty of mechs had white paint. It was hardly incriminatory.
He was usually pretty good about keeping evidence off his frame, but he was riding hard this time, and had lost himself to the pleasure. What was it about Autobots that revved his turbines so much? Well, not Autobots in general.
Just one Autobot.
“I’ve always cared. But usually I can figure it out without having to ask.” Starscream leaned against the wall of the stall, arms crossed over his cockpit, and on anyone else, that pose would be casual.
There was nothing casual about Starscream. He was cunning and dangerous and purposeful. Which meant he wasn’t asking because he didn’t know. He was asking because he disapproved.
He couldn’t know about Mirage. So it had to be someone else.
No one knew about Mirage.
“Why does it matter?” Skywarp asked, and cursed himself because he couldn’t have sounded more guilty if he tried.
He ground his denta and checked his thighs. Free of paint. He wondered if there were any other incriminatory marks. The full-length mirror was past Starscream, in the main part of the washrack.
Starscream pushed off the wall and took two steps into the stall, his footsteps echoing around them. A touch dragged up Skywarp’s lower back, toward his wing hinge.
“You missed a spot here,” he said, with a drawl. “An interesting shade of blue, Skywarp. Don’t think I’ve seen that anywhere on base.”
Skywarp whirled around, whipping away from him, his back to the spray. “You’re that familiar with all the shades of blue?” he demanded, spark whirling with anxiety, prepping to warp at any second. “Didn’t know you saw that many berths, Star. Are you telling me the rumors are true?”
A spike of fury filled the washrack, and Starscream’s face went through a bevy of emotion. He never was good at hiding his anger. Skywarp would have crowed in victory, if he wasn’t already bracing for a hard knock and a quick getaway. He knew it was a low blow and a point of contention for his wingmate, but desperate times and all that.
But then Starscream did something weird.
Instead of lashing out, he folded his arms, drew a long, deep ventilation, and cocked a hip. His wings stopped twitching. He gave Skywarp a hard look.
Who was this rational Starscream and what had he done with the quick-to-temper Seeker Skywarp had come to know?
“Points for trying,” he said, in a controlled tone. “But I know a misdirect when I hear one. Call me a berthhopper if you like, but it’s not going to distract me from asking which Autobot berth you’ve been sneaking off to.”
Frag
Frag, frag, frag, frag.
Time go get the frag up out of here.
Starscream snatched his elbow, and Skywarp grounded in place before he could finish initiating the warp. Damn but his wingmate knew him far too well. He knew Skywarp wouldn’t teleport to flee while he was in contact with the person he was attempting to escape.
It would be pointless to take the enemy with him. Unless, of course, they were grounders, and he popped up thousands of feet in the air, only to let them drop. It was actually a pretty effective battle tactic. Especially with those blasted twins.
Though Mirage didn’t like it when Skywarp dropped his friends from great heights. So Skywarp didn’t do it anymore.
“Let me go!” Skywarp hissed, defensive protocols spiraling up, his blasters priming to fire. His thoughts slammed together and scattered through a dozen aborted plans of action.
“I’m sorry.”
Skywarp froze. “What?” he demanded, optics wide. He didn’t know Starscream was aware of the meaning of those words. He’d certainly never heard Starscream say them.
“You heard me.” Starscream scowled and let him go, folding his arms again, his shoulders hunching. “I’m not angry. I’m not going to report it. I just want to know.”
Skywarp narrowed his optics. “Why?”
Starscream pressed his mouth together. His lips formed a thin line. He glared.
A lightbulb burst to life over Skywarp’s head. His optics widened. “Oh, Primus! Do you--”
Starscream’s hand slapped over his mouth. “Shut up, you idiot. You want the whole base to know and get me killed?” He snarled.
Skywarp nodded behind Starscream’s hand, grabbed him by the wrist, and tugged. The world turned sideways around them, and the familiar freefall sensation of sliding through space swept him up until he landed with a thump in the quarters he shared with Thundercracker.
TC wasn’t home. Skywarp didn’t know where he was. He didn’t always share his schedule with Skywarp. They all had secrets.
Good.
It meant he wasn’t here to yell at Skywarp for dripping on the floor. He hadn’t dried off properly. He teleported here straight from the washrack.
Starscream jerked away from him. “I hate when you do that without warning.”
“You wanted to talk about this somewhere in private!”
“When did I say that?”
Skywarp snatched a towel from the floor on his side of the room and scrubbed at the suds still slicking his armor. He thought back on their conversation. “Didn’t you?”
Starscream sighed and scraped a hand down his face, only to pinch the bridge of his nasal structure. “Why did I think this conversation would go any other way?”
The silence of the room wrapped around them. Their room wasn’t soundproof, and if Soundwave was paying attention, he would probably pick up on what they were saying. But it was the closest thing to privacy without leaving the ship, and they couldn’t do that either.
They had to be around for Megatron to summon Starscream whenever he felt like it. Had a pattern, Megatron did, and when he’d finished sulking about losing to Optimus Prime, and drowning his disappointment in high grade, he’d pick himself up off the floor, summon Starscream, and demand a new plan of action. He’d demand an impossible solution.
It was a pattern.
Skywarp was as loyal a Decepticon as they come. But he was tired, and they weren’t getting anywhere, and it was frustrating.
“Mirage,” he admitted, staring at the floor, wicking away the last of the solvent from his seams. He dropped the towel, stepped on it, half-sparked swiping over the dribbles he’d made on the floor. “I’ve been seeing Mirage for a few decades now.”
“And here I thought you didn’t have it in you to be sneaky,” Starscream said, but there was surprisingly little anger or disgust in his voice. He sat on Thundercracker’s berth, one ankle folded over the other, and leaned back. “More than a fling then.”
“Yeah.”
“There is so much I don’t know about you.”
Skywarp picked up the towel, balling it between his hands. “There’s a lot you don’t know, period. We stopped asking each other questions centuries ago. We stopped caring.”
Starscream narrowed his optics. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Skywarp lobbed the dirty towel toward the corner, joining a pile of others he’d been meaning to take to recyc. “How’d you find out?”
Starscream clamped his mouth shut. His gaze skittered elsewhere, but his ailerons twitched, and Skywarp had flown alongside Starscream for too long not to recognize when he wanted to be evasive.
“Hey,” Skywarp said. “You don’t get to drag my most dangerous secret out of me and not tell me why or how you find out or what Autobot you’re fragging either.”
Starscream’s gaze shot toward him, his field spiking with outrage. “He’s my conjunx, not some roll in the berth,” he snapped.
Skywarp stared at him. “You have a conjunx?”
Starscream shifted. Discomfort radiated from him. “Since before the war,” he muttered and wiped a hand down his face again. “For the most part. It’s complicated. He’s an Autobot, and if I hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe we wouldn’t have ended up on opposite sides.”
Holy fragging Primus.
Skywarp’s processor whirled. It was like his entire universe had spun on an axis. He knew about Deadlock, of course, thanks to the Tuesday meetings. Just like he knew about Onslaught and Knock Out. But Starscream?
Damn, he should have seen it coming. Starscream had always been aiming to take over and finish the war quickly. Skywarp had assumed it was purely because Starscream had a thing about power and lots of it. He didn’t think love was any kind of a factor.
“Who is it?” Skywarp asked, suddenly greedy for information. There were so many tasty specimens in the Autobots -- though of course Mirage was the absolute best. Skywarp really wanted to know who could have tamed his wingmate.
Starscream stared at him for a long moment before he ex-vented quietly. “Wheeljack.”
“Really?” Skywarp tilted his head, contemplating. He supposed it made sense. They were both smart, and they were scientists, but Wheeljack was pretty plain looking. He thought for sure Starscream was going to say ‘Skyfire’. Everyone knew they had a history.
“I guess you’ll see the proof on Tuesday,” Starscream drawled.
“They told you about Tuesdays!” Skywarp slumped onto his own berth, his processor blown by all the new data. He had not thought today of all days would bring so many revelations. “This is kind of incredible though. I mean, we’ve all been trying to figure out a way to end the war, but with you, it might actually be possible.”
Starscream’s wings fluttered, as they usually did when he was pleased. “Well, that’s surprising.”
“What is?” Skywarp asked.
“For you to have faith in me.” Starscream grinned, but there was nothing friendly in it. “Can’t remember the last time that happened.”
Skywarp shifted and pulled himself further onto the berth, crossing his legs in front of him. “That’s not fair, Star. This is entirely different, and you know it.”
“If that’s what you say to make yourself feel better about it.” Starscream thumped the berth beneath him. “What about Thundercracker? He secretly seeing an Autobot, too?”
Skywarp pressed his lips together, but decided not to push. They could dismiss faith and the lack thereof later. “If he is, he hasn’t told me. Then again, you never said you were married to an Autobot, so I guess that’s fair.”
“Married.” Starscream repeated the word like he was tasting it, then scrunched up his nose. “I hate the humans. I hate Earth. We should have left a long time ago.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
“We’re working on it,” Skywarp said, to agree. “But you’ll find out more on Tuesday.”
Starscream chuckled, and there was something relaxed in it, something Skywarp hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “So I’ve been told.” He cycled a long ventilation and stood from the berth, brushing imaginary dust from his frame. “We have maneuvers first thing in the morning. Wherever Thundercracker is, remind him of them?”
“I’m not your message boy,” Skywarp said, but Starscream was already striding toward the door, unconcerned.
He paused, however, before hitting the panel to open it. He didn’t turn back to look at Skywarp, but he was clearly hesitating.
“This thing with your Autobot, is it serious?” Starscream asked.
Skywarp gnawed on his bottom lip. “You ever known me to stick around in one berth for longer than a week?”
“Guess that answers my question.” Starscream laughed softly before he palmed the door open. “See you in the morning.”
He stepped out and the door slid shut behind him, locking Skywarp into the quiet of his quarters. He ex-vented noisily and dropped wing-first onto the berth, groaning as he dragged his palms down his face.
There were so many ways that could have gone so horribly bad. Instead, it had completely turned his universe on its axis.
Primus, Starscream was a member of the club. Skywarp should have known. And Wheeljack! Wow, Mirage was going to flip a lid.
Skywarp folded his arms behind his head and grinned.
They actually had a chance now. He couldn’t frigging wait.
***
