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Chapter Text

In The Rain

They'd been on their way back to the Ark after a scouting mission on this new alien planet, when it'd started to rain. At first they'd panicked, expecting to feel sharp needles of pain poking through their armor at any moment. It was only when no plating began to melt off them that they realized that the raindrops only contained water and nothing else.

Oh but the science element would have a field day with this, Sunstreaker thought as they resumed their driving. Water that fell from the sky and didn't cause instant excruciating pain on contact. He could get to like it, if he didn't think about what it would do to his paint-job. Water stains were fragging hard to get off sometimes.

Still, he had to admit there was something nice about the way the rain fell softly onto his body, soothing and caressing him, cooling his heated engine and tyres, and rather than pelt down hard on him, the drops splashed lightly onto his hood and roof like feathers. It gave the entire landscape around him a sort of misty, yet refreshing look.

His reverie was broken by a nudge on his rear bumper, just as his brother zoomed right past him and sent a shower of water over his low-slung Lamborghini form. Sunstreaker slammed on his brakes and came to a stop, coughing as some of the water found its way into his air filters.

"Stupid fragger!" he yelled as Sideswipe spun a perfect 180 and came slowly back to him, cackling maniacally. "The slag did you do that for?"

"Oh come on Sunny," he chuckled. "I couldn't resist, you were lost in your own little brooding world, I had to snap you out of it somehow."

"Fragging idiot," Sunstreaker growled.

"I love you too, bro," Sideswipe replied. "What were you thinking so much about anyway?"

"The rain."

Sideswipe's headlights flashed once - the equivalent of a blink. "You were brooding about the rain? Why? Wondering which brand of wax works best on removing water stains?"

"No, just the rain."

"Uh... okay." Sideswipe let this sink in as his engine ticked down to idle. "Why were you thinking about the rain?"

"Just noting how different it is from the rain we got on Cybertron y'know. Back there if we tried this, we'd get our plating melted off, but here there's no acid in the rain."

"Uh-huh, so?"

"So, just noting... and it does feel nice, the way it beats down and makes you feel all cool and refreshed again, especially after all the heat out there in the desert."

The red mech snickered. "It also makes you wax poetic, Sunny."

"And if you tell anyone, I will hurt you."

"Sure you would bro... Still, it is kinda nice out here, and hey look," Sideswipe revved his engine a bit. "There's a little sunlight coming through now." His brother didn't reply. "Sunny?"

"Look at that," the yellow warrior murmured.

Sideswipe spun in place to face the way Sunstreaker was, and against the grey sky he saw an broad arc of color that stood out and shone brightly.

"What is it?" he asked.

Sunstreaker gazed at it, trying to make out the colors and the quantity of them, and managed to count seven. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before. Guess we'll have to ask Wheeljack or one of the humans when we get back, lets go."

He revved his engine and sped past Sideswipe, showering his brother in a wave of rain-water from his tyres, snickering evilly as the red mech cursed loudly and colorfully and gunned his engine in an effort to catch up with him.

This rain wasn't so bad after all.

Chapter Text

They said Venice was one of the most romantic cities on Earth, right on par with Paris. Standing in the middle of the city however, on the 14th of February no less, Mirage wasn't feeling it.

It was early evening, and there were human couples all around him - some sitting together and cuddling in Venice's famed gondolas, others sitting at little cafes or on benches by the water-ways and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Mirage shook his head and stepped onto one of the bridges over the water, arms crossed and frowning. He didn't see what the big deal was at all.

Sunstreaker watched his blue-and-white companion from the shadow of one of the buildings and smiled wryly. Seemed the spy was getting a little lonely without anyone to shower some loving attention on him. Well then, it was time to make amends.

He strolled out of the shadows and into the twilight, making sure some of the setting sunshine touched him and made his glossy yellow color glow warmly. The spy glanced in his direction and did a double-take. Bingo!

Sunstreaker smiled lazily, like a mech who knew he oozed enough confidence to get him anything he wanted, and slag, something about that attitude made Mirage go all tingly inside. He knew better than to wish for anything though. Sunstreaker was a free-spirit who came and went as he wished. Any attempts to tame him or tie him down would only lead to misery for all parties involved.

Still, Mirage thought as he watched the golden-yellow warrior stride up to him looking for all the world like he owned the city, there was nothing wrong with a short-term moment of passion that could satisfy them both. Sunstreaker was a fantastic lover when he wanted to be, and right now Mirage wanted him to prove it.

A beam of sunlight reflected off the yellow mech's enamel and flashed into his optics.

He shook his head. What was he thinking?!

When he looked up again, Sunstreaker had stopped in a large patch of sunlight, bent his right arm behind his head and tilted his face up. As if he knew the spy was watching, the warrior turned his head slightly and ticked an optic in his direction. Mirage felt his fuel-pump hammer madly within him. Sunstreaker was sexy, no doubt about it, and the mech knew it.

"Evening Mirage," he said in that smooth, deep voice of his that was just half an octave lower than his brother's tenor. "Nice time of day isn't it?" His optics glowed a soft, inviting pale blue as he looked at the spy.

Mirage felt his vocalizer catch in his throat, and coughed to try and regain his voice. "Y-yeah. Nice evening. Very, uh...".

"Romantic?" Sunstreaker filled in, stretching, then relaxing his strong, slender body. "Well it IS what the human's call Valentine's Day."

"Don't think it applies to us Autobots though," Mirage replied, a bit of his previous mood starting to creep back in.

"We love don't we?" Sunstreaker asked as he stepped up beside him, hip just brushing the other's.

Mirage's faceplates heated from the inside. "I guess we do." He tried to avert his optics from that tempting blue gaze, even as Sunstreaker's arm touched his.

They stood silently on the bridge for a moment, watching the gondolas bob up and down in the water. Sunstreaker brought his far hand up and idly ran his fingers down his chest. Mirage felt his faceplates burn, wanting to touch him - wanting himself to be touched like that. Primus, this close he could just imagine those hands on his body, those lips on his mouth.

When Sunstreaker nudged him gently, he nearly jumped. Regaining his senses again, he looked back out towards the water, too embarrassed to make optic contact just yet.

"Want to take a ride?" the warrior asked.

"We wouldn't fit in the boat," the spy replied. He glanced up.

Sunstreaker smiled coyly. "I wasn't talking about boats."

That was it. Mirage grabbed his wrist and led him off the bridge, to a place where he knew they wouldn't be disturbed.

Chapter Text

"I dont know about this," Sunstreaker said.

He looked uneasily at the large lump of brown organic mess in front of him, and then at the human who stood at his side.

"Are you sure there are humans who do this for a living, Pierre?"

Pierre Receau, a young French artist, laughed as they stood in the back yard of his Parisian home. Mansion was more like it, Sunstreaker thought when he first laid optics on the place.

"I am very sure, mon ami," Pierre replied. "Have you not been to South Asia? Their pottery making is exceptional, and they use clay as well."

"No, I've not been to South Asia yet," Sunstreaker informed him. "And I know they use clay, but... I've never done this before. Is clay hard to get off paint?"

"Not that I know of. And... never done this before you say?"

"I say. Don't exactly have clay back on Cybertron, and fighting 'Cons all day doesn't exactly give you much time to sit down and sculpt."

"Well then, it pleases me to be the first to teach you the art of sculpting."

"Sculpting? I thought we were gonna make pots?"

"Patience, mon ami. First you must get used to shaping with your hands before you try to shape with the wheel. Now, sit down si vous plais."

Grudgingly, but not wanting to offend his friend, Sunstreaker lowered himself on to the mat that had been placed on the grass for him, in front of the table. Pierre sat close by at his own table.

"Now, the first thing you need to do is mix all that clay up," the man said and thrust his hands into the mixture.

Sunstreaker grimaced and gingerly poked the mix with a finger. "This feels... icky."

Pierre laughed. "Come, mon ami, if you cannot get past that psychological barrier then you will never reach your potential. Clay can be washed off, trust me."

The mech sighed, then plunged his hands into the clay, running the mixture between his fingers and feeling it squick and squish. He looked over at Pierre who had already taken a lump out and had begun to shape it in his hands.

"So I just shape it into anything I want?" he asked.

"Anything you desire, mon ami," Pierre replied.

Sunstreaker nodded and began to mold the clay. As he worked, Pierre instructed him on the use of various sculpting tools to refine and add detail to the basic design. So engrossed was he in his work, that at several points he stopped to unconsciously clean off bits of clay from his tools and fingers on his own frame.

At last he held up finished product - a miniature model of the Eiffel Tower.

"Souvenir for my brother," he explained to Pierre, as the artist looked it over.

It was - in every sense - a beginner's attempt, but the Frenchman applauded the effort nonetheless as he handed over both Sunstreaker's and his models to be put into an oven to harden. He, himself, had sculpted a miniature swan complete with feathers and other such details.

"I'm sure he will treasure it," Pierre replied. "And it was a good first attempt, though maybe we should get you cleaned up before that clay hardens, oui?"

"I thought you said clay washes off easily?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Oh yes, but the harder it gets, the more stains it leaves, come."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Sunstreaker said as he followed the man.

Chapter Text

It was one of those days where everything just felt right, Sunstreaker thought to himself as he sat under a tree with his sketchbook, working on another picture.

The sun was shining at just the right temperature, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue, the birds were singing, butterflies were fluttering, flowers bloomed colorfully; and the best part was that they hadn't heard a peep out of the Decepticons all week.

Oh sure, all that would get shot to hell one of these days, but for today, all was good.

And it wasn't just the environment around him. He felt good inside, like he'd found something he'd been missing all this time, and it finally made him feel complete. Heck, he didn't just feel good, he felt great, and he had one mech to thank for that. Well, technically two, but he'd loved his brother all his life so that one didn't count.

It always felt right when they were together, in ways that it had never felt when he'd been with anyone else. This was different. There was an element of care and gentleness that had never been there before, which made him treasure this relationship more than he did any others.

Sunstreaker smiled to himself as he looked down at his sketch and added a few more touches to it to enhance its beauty before scrawling his name in a corner. Yeah, he would like this one. The yellow warrior had nothing else to offer him, but then, he never asked for anything in return for his affection. Sometimes he felt guilty about it. He would give him the world if he could.

Standing, he dusted himself off, and headed back to the Ark to deliver the drawing.

On the way he passed Sideswipe and Bluestreak coming outside to enjoy the day as well.

"Hey bro, you look happy today," Sideswipe said.

"Yeah, its a lovely day," Sunstreaker replied, giving his brother an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

The he bent and gave Bluestreak a cuddle as well before continuing on his way.

The gunner flashed his optics a few times before turning and looked back after the retreating Lamborghini. "What was all that about?"

Sideswipe chuckled. "Why Blue, couldn't you tell? Sunny's in love."

Bluestreak balked. "In love? With whom?"

The red mech slung an arm around his shoulders. "That, my dear Blue, is not for me to tell."

Chapter Text

Clods of dirt flew up around him, some of it pelting his optics as he ran for cover, trying to keep track of the red form in front of him.

"Sunny! In here, quick!"

Sunstreaker turned in the direction of the voice, bringing a hand up to shield his face against the loose debris, and saw his brother standing in front of an opening to a small cave, beckoning to him to come over. The yellow mech threw himself to the ground as he was showered with another cloud of dirt, then picked himself up again.

"Sunny, hurry up!" Sideswipe shouted urgently.

But Sunstreaker didn't hurry up, or rather he couldn't. All of a sudden, his body refused to respond to his mental commands. Every step felt forced and grew harder to make, the closer he got to the mouth of the cave.

"Fraggit Sunny!" Sideswipe ran towards him, grabbed his arm and all but shoved him inside. "Move your aft will ya?!"

Then, just as both of them cleared the opening, there came a loud boom above them and the walls and roof of the small cave shook, sending down a shower of fine brown dust that coated them both. Stones and rocks started raining onto the ground just outside. Sunstreaker scrabbled around in the dim light, trying to crawl to the opening.

"The slag are you doing?!" Sideswipe yelled, grabbing for him.

"We have to get out, we'll be buried. They'll never find us!" Sunstreaker's optics were wide with fear. He lunged for the opening as larger rocks and boulders came tumbling down.

"Scrapping idiot!" Sideswipe tackled him, holding him down with his full weight and curling around him to protect him. "Stay with me Sunny, we're not gonna be buried."

Beneath him, Sunstreaker trembled and Sideswipe cursed, remembering his twin's hidden fear of small, enclosed spaces, but there was nothing to be done for it now. If they tried to crawl out, there was the very possible likelihood they would either be crushed by one of the falling boulders or ripped to shreds by laser fire. They had to stay in there till it was safe.

As the shaking stopped and the opening became completely blocked off, Sideswipe sat up slowly and gathered Sunstreaker to him, rocking him gently in his arms. His brother still shivered in fright, the thought of being buried alive still fresh in his mind.

"Sshhh Sunny, its alright. I'm here," Sideswipe cooed softly, trying to comfort him. "It's going to be fine, they'll get us out."

Sunstreaker clung to him. "You don't know that. We might be stuck here forever, to rust or be buried. What if they bring the whole thing down on top of us?"

"Whoa easy," Sideswipe stroked his head. "Calm down bro, trust me. We're gonna be fine, alright? Deep breaths now, easy."

Somewhat soothed by his brother's touch, the yellow mech inhaled deeply a few times and tried to come to his senses, wrapping his own arms around the red mech and holding him close. His fingers probed his twin's chassis for any damage as he tried to keep his mind off the cave and the blocked off opening. He could feel Sideswipe's hands doing the same to him - each checking to see if the other was in one whole piece.

"Are you alright, bro?" Sideswipe asked. "I'm sorry, I forgot you were afraid of places like this, but it was the only place I could think of to keep us safe."

"I'm... not afraid," Sunstreaker replied unconvincingly.

"Yeah? And blue is my favorite color," Sideswipe said, trying to lighten the mood.

"It is? Thought it was yellow." Sunstreaker placed his head on Sideswipe's shoulder. "I'll be ok, just... don't let me go."

"I wont. I'm staying right here till they come get us out." Sideswipe locked his arms around his twin. "See? Not going anywhere."

They remained like that for a good long while until finally they heard movement on the other side, and a few cracks of light appeared as some of the rocks were removed. There were voices and the familiar rumble of engines. Sunstreaker raised his head and looked at Sideswipe, as his brother carefully released his arms from around him.

"Your secret's safe with me bro," the red mech said.

"Thanks Sides," Sunstreaker replied.

"Hey, nothing to be afraid of, I'll always be here," Sideswipe grinned his usual lop-sided grin.

"Yeah, I know... And so will I."

Chapter Text

"Tell me again, why did I agree to do this?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Because, mon ami, you are an artist, and you understand the need to, uh... push one's creative limits to its highest potential," Pierre Receau replied.

"So you've said to me many times, but why am I always your guinea pig?"

Pierre placed a hand to his chest. "Pardon moi, monsieur, but its not everyday I find an Autobot who shares the same passion for art as I do."

Sunstreaker sighed as he laid back on the floor. "And what do I get out of this?"

"Call it a learning experience." Pierre snapped on a pair of latex gloves and then gestured to two of his servants to come forward. "And you will also be the first Autobot to ever be cast in marble."

The warrior grumbled as he lay still and let the servants coat his head and face with a slick, clear substance. "The frag is this?"

"Grease. So that it'll be easier to remove the cast once it hardens," Pierre replied. "Now relax and close your eyes."

Sunstreaker shifted once more and powered off his optics. The next minute, something cold and thick was slopped onto his face, and he felt Pierre's hands smooth it out as the artist pressed it into the lines and contours of the metal. He was about to speak when another glop was dumped over his mouth, and made a muffled sound of protest.

"This may feel a little uncomfortable, but at least be thankful you are not human," Pierre said. "We usually have to stick straws into their nostrils to help them breathe. Very unpleasant."

Now he tells me, Sunstreaker thought to himself. His fingers twitched slightly and he forced himself not to fidget. Seemed Pierre had also forgotten to tell him that the plaster also got a little heavy after a while. How long did he have to stay like this anyway?

"It will be about an hour till the cast hardens and we can take it off," Pierre told him, as if he guessed what the warrior had been thinking.

An hour?! Primus help him, he was going to go mad by then. Oh the things he agreed to in the name of art. Was there anything left that this crazy, young Frenchman hadn't talked him into? Well, there was the body painting, but a mech had to draw the line somewhere. There was no chance in the Pit he was gonna let anyone paint on his armor, nor was he particularly inclined to try painting on nude, human bodies. He wasn't Sideswipe for Primus' sake.

"Alright. I think we have waited long enough," Pierre commented. "Let us get this off him. Carefully now, we do not want to damage the cast."

Ah, finally. Sunstreaker had been just about ready to claw the fragging thing off himself.

"Uh oh."

Uh oh?! The frag was "uh oh"? Why weren't they getting this thing off his face and what in Primus' name was the "uh oh" for? He groped about blindly with his hand, trying to reach for where he thought Pierre was so he could find out what was going on. He really didn't like the sound of that "uh oh" at all.

Pierre touched his hand. "We may have a bit of a problem, mon ami. It seems that the plaster mix was a little too strong and one hour was a little too long a time to have left it on. I'm afraid its stuck."

STUCK?! To his FACE?! Oh this was SO not good. He was about to reach up to rip the thing off his face when Pierre grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"No mon ami, do not do that, you will hurt yourself if you try to pull it off. I have already sent someone for help, we will try and chip it off you."

Two hours later Sunstreaker was finally able to see and speak again. He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping off any remaining traces of grease and plaster. Beside him, Pierre stood looking forlornly at the pieces of the Autobot's face cast. Feeling a little bad for him, Sunstreaker touched his shoulder lightly. The artist looked up at him.

"Don't think of it as a total loss," Sunstreaker told him. "You're an artist aren't you? You can create something out of this. How about a mosaic?"

"That is a possibility," Pierre replied. "Pardon moi, mon ami, I truly did hope I could replicate you in some three-dimensional form."

"Ah don't worry about it Pierre," Sunstreaker replied. "I guess when it comes to me, they really did break the mold."

Chapter Text

Prowl eyed the pair. "As punishment, you're going to clean up Wheeljack's lab today. Report down there and say I sent the extra help that was requested."

The red and yellow mechs saluted, then turned and walked out of the tactician's office. Once outside, the red looked at the yellow.

"You know I'm crap at cleaning don't you?" he asked. "I cant even keep my half of the room clean."

The yellow only nodded. "You owe me big time."

They stopped and the red pulled the yellow into a warm hug. "I love you, bro. I'll make it up to you soon."

"Just don't get seen till I'm done."

The yellow headed down the hallway towards the Ark's lab and knocked on the door frame. Inside, the Autobots' Chief Engineer looked up from the disaster zone he was trying to clean and his head-fins flashed blue.

"Prowl sent ya huh?" he asked. "But I thought there were two of you?"

"Sideswipe sucks at cleaning," the yellow mech replied. "So you'll just have to make do with me."

Wheeljack waved him in. "That's alright, come on in and grab something. This might take a while."

Sunstreaker sauntered in and surveyed the room to see what needed to be done. There were several counter surfaces that needed to be wiped down, as well as glass to be swept up and various items that needed to be put in order. He sighed. It would indeed take "a while".

"Where do you want me to start?" he asked.

"Anywhere you like," Wheeljack replied. "What got ya this little assignment anyway?"

"Put Huffer in the med-bay again," Sunstreaker said, crouching down on the floor and using a rag to mop up the spills. "None of this stuff corrosive right?"

"Uh, no... at least I don't think so." Wheeljack chuckled.

Sunstreaker sighed and reached for more rags, dumping those already soiled into a bucket already half-full of trash. "What caused this mess?"

Wheeljack straightened and rubbed his sore back. "Experimenting with fuels.... Put Huffer... wait, both of you?"

"Technically, just Sideswipe."

"Then why are you...?" He stopped when the warrior glanced at him and went back to scrubbing the counter-top.

The warrior moved around the floor quickly and mopped up the rest of the spills and stood, dusting his hands. He looked around for another spot that needed cleaning and moved to it.

"Maybe you should take a break 'Jack," he said after a moment. "You look like you could use one. I can clean up the rest of this myself."

Wheeljack's headfins flashed again. "Are you serious? Uh... are you sure you can handle it all by yourself? I mean..."

"Just go." Sunstreaker didn't even look up.

Not sure if he trusted the yellow warrior not to run off, but wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, Wheeljack left the lab and headed up to the lounge to get himself a much-needed drink of energon.

While there, he was drawn into several conversations with different groups of mechs and by the time he was done, close upon two hours had passed. Hoping Sunstreaker was still there and not in a mood to kill him, Wheeljack hurried back to the lab.

As he had guessed, Sunstreaker was no longer there. What did surprise him however was the neatness of the lab, and most notably, the disaster zone. The counters were clean, the various glassware carefully arranged in an organized manner and the floor dry. All that remained was a bucket full of trash, ready to be thrown out.

Shaking his head that the warrior could have done all this by himself, he headed up to the Twins' room in time to find Sideswipe coming out. He hailed the red mech.

"Not so loud," Sideswipe said as he came up. "Sunny just got to sleep."

"I'm sorry." Wheeljack peered into the room and saw that it was just as clean as the lab currently was. "Your brother, uh..."

"What about him?" Sideswipe frowned slightly. "He did your work for you, now leave him alone and let him get some rest."

"Its not that, its just... is he..."

"Always such a neat-freak?" Sideswipe lightened a bit. "Yeah. Total opposite of me. He's always liked things organized ever since we were sparklings."

"I see. Well, tell him thanks for me will ya? He did a good job." Wheeljack turned to go back.

"Of course he did. With Sunny, you get nothing less than perfection."

Chapter Text

Frostbite sighed and stared up into the dark sky above Cybertron. It was lonely up here, she barely knew any of the other Autobots, and the planet itself was a stark contrast to what she was accustomed to on Earth. Yet that was why she was here, as ambassador, to convince those remaining Autobots to relocate to Earth while there was still a window open for them to do so - so to speak.

She didn't mind the trip itself, it was just that she missed a familiar face that she could talk to and alleviate some of the loneliness she felt.

"Homesick huh?" A voice beside her asked. "Is it a private party, or can anyone join?"

Frostbite jumped and spun around, startled. She found Sunstreaker standing beside her gazing off into space just like she had been doing. She sighed inwardly. Company was one thing, but this was stretching her tolerance a bit. From what she had heard others say, and from what she had seen for herself, Sunstreaker had a reputation - one that did not sit well at all with her own ideals.

She avoided him when she could, and didn't particularly like talking to him when she couldn't. Still, she couldn't be rude to him, not now anyway.

"Didn't think you'd get homesick up here. For you this is home - isn't it?" she asked, not making optic-contact.

Sunstreaker shrugged. "It was where we were created, sure, and we lived and fought here. Doesn't make it a home."

Frostbite let this sink in. "What does then?"

"People," Sunstreaker answered simply. "Its not really a place that makes a home, its the people you live around."

"But don't you have friends up here?"

"Sideswipe and I pretty much kept to ourselves. I guess I don't have to explain why."

"Probably not." Frostbite grimaced.

A moment of silence passed, during which she thought about what the yellow warrior had just said. She wouldn't have expected him to be this... deep... from what she previously knew of him. Guess she didn't know him as well as she thought.

"Are you really what the others say you are?" she asked.

Sunstreaker canted what looked to be a smile in her direction. "Every bit of it," he said. "But that's just one side of me."

"What's the other side?"

The smile widened just slightly. "Come with me to the conference and you'll see, Ambassador." He held out an arm

The femme stared at him. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe... Maybe not, but," here Sunstreaker gave a small bow. "If you come with me at least you wont be alone."

"And what's in it for you?"

"Nothing but the pleasure of your company."

Frostbite narrowed her optics and searched his face, but the warrior was far too good at hiding his underlying intentions under a layer of charm and good looks.

"Normally a gentleman brings flowers when asking me out," she said.

Sunstreaker let out a mock sigh and searched a subspace compartment. "Femmes," he muttered, but not without some humor in his voice, and held out a small glass sunflower. "Its all I've got for now."

Frostbite took the flower and slipped her arm through his. "It'll do."

Chapter Text

His foot tapped the air in time to the music coming from the speakers of the small sound system he co-owned with his brother. His head bobbed along to the melody, his lips moved as he silently sang along with the lyrics, and now and then he hummed along with the tune.

Sunstreaker leaned back in his chair, his feet up on his desk with one ankle crossed over the other, the chair itself balancing on two legs. He had his sketch-pad stretched across his lap and his hand skillfully worked a stick of charcoal over the paper. Outside, it was a beautiful day, and most of the other Autobots were out enjoying it, but he preferred to stay indoors and work on his art, which he deemed more important than running around in the dirt.

Besides, he was enjoying his music.

Adding a few finishing touches to his sketch - as one song came to an end and another started up - he swept his legs off the table, placed the drawing carefully on the surface and stood up with a little twirl, singing in time to the music.

You are the sunshine of my life
That’s why I’ll always be around
You are the apple of my eye
Forever you’ll be in my heart

Ah, if only he could sing like that. The human had a class and style all his own that Sunstreaker both respected and admired, not to mention a commanding stage presence and blue eyes to rival his own sky-blue optics.

I know that this is the beginning
Though I've loved you for one million years
But if I thought our love was ending
I'd find myself drowning in my own tears

Crossing his legs as he side-stepped gracefully across the room, he continued to sing in his smooth, rich bass, into the stick of charcoal in his hand.

You are the sunshine of my life
That’s why I’ll always be around
You are the apple of my eye
Forever you’ll be in my heart

He shuffled, snapped his fingers, and swung his arm in a flamboyant arc, his optics dimming slightly as he imagined himself on a stage, singing together with the man to a large audience and soaking up the accolades.

You must have known that I was lonely
Because you came to my rescue
And though I know that this is heaven
How could so much love be inside of you

He thought it a pity that humans were so short-lived. The human obviously had more to offer, but not long enough a life-span in which to make his dreams a reality. It was a shame, Earth could have used more musicians like him, who could actually sing decently, compared to some of the slag he heard Blaster listen to on a daily basis.

You are the sunshine of my life
That’s why I’ll always be around
You are the apple of my eye
Forever you’ll be in my heart

Sunstreaker side-stepped once more into a graceful bow, then jumped in surprise when he heard someone clapping from the door. He straightened and spun in an instant, to face the intruder, ready to creatively maim the uninvited spectator, and saw Jazz standing there with a huge grin on his face.

"Shoulda told me ya had a good set o' pipes Sunny," the saboteur grinned. "We coulda taken our show on the road."

"And ruin my reputation as a psychopathic maniac?" Sunstreaker asked sarcastically.

"Right, we cant have that," Jazz agreed, equally sarcastically.

"You also know that if this gets out, you'll be wearing your own pipes as an accessory."

"Chill out Sunshine, ya know I ain't one ta reveal your deepest, darkest secrets." Jazz grinned. "Anyway, I'm here for that commission ya promised me."

Sunstreaker crossed the room to his desk. "Just finished it actually." He leaned over and used the charcoal to scribble something at the bottom of the page, before scrawling his name and passing it over to Jazz. "There you go."

"Excellent m'man, thank you." He grinned down at the beautifully sketched portrait of Frank Sinatra and chuckled at the 'Sinatra pwnz j00' that Sunstreaker had scribbled at the bottom. "That he does ol' buddy, that he does."

Chapter Text

Sleep was an illusion, Sideswipe thought as he stood outside the Ark in the early afternoon. Oh, he didn’t mean it in the way that he didn’t get any of it – he did, even if it was not as much as he would have liked – but rather in the way that it made things not as they seemed. It cast a glamor over what it touched so that only those who knew it was there could see through it.

The red mech smiled as he thought of this analogy. Obviously, the heat was getting to him as well.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon and many of the Autobots had soon come to realize that it was a lot cooler outside the volcano than it was inside it. Except for the few on duty, the rest had arrived at the same conclusion – either go outside or risk getting your circuits cooked. At least the light breezes that swept through the valley helped to take some of the strain off their cooling systems.

While most of the Autobots procrastinated and looked for ways to keep themselves entertained outdoors, the more sensible few put their time to good use by catching up on some much-needed recharge, and one of these was the object of Sideswipe’s attention.

Curled up contently on his side under one of the large, but few, trees around the base, Sunstreaker dozed in the shade like a large golden cat. He looked more peaceful in sleep than he ever did when he was awake, as if it was his way of escaping to a place where he was happy and content. He had a serene expression on his face that only served to enhance his beautiful features, and a stranger would have thought him a gentle being, brutally forced to take up arms and fight, rather than a warrior created and bred for war.

A stray butterfly landing on one of his helm crests did nothing to disturb his sleep, nor did a lone squirrel, who scurried down the tree trunk to see what this strange thing was under its home, and whether it had any food on it. Sideswipe grinned at the sight, a hint of fondness for his brother on his face. Dear Sunny, a perfect little lamb when asleep. He was about to walk over and join his twin when another red form beat him to it.

Cliffjumper’s shadow sent the squirrel darting back up the tree, and the butterfly flitting away. “Hey Sunstreaker, whassa matter? Sideswipe kick you off the bunk again, that why you gotta sleep out here?”

Sunstreaker’s hand shot out like lightning and wrapped tightly around the Minibot’s throat. “Yeah. Now scram, before I kick you off the top of the volcano.” He growled, not bothering to activate his optics.

“You wouldn’t dare, not with so many others around,” Cliffjumper replied, fingers trying to pry the vice-like grip from around his neck.

“Maybe he wouldn’t, but I would,” Sideswipe replied, coming up behind him. He gave the smaller mech a shove, “So beat it runt.”

Cliffjumper cursed at them, then retreated to the safety of a few of the other Minibots.

“Real wolf in sheep’s clothing, aren't ya Sunny?” Sideswipe commented as he stretched out next to the yellow mech.

“The frag’re y’talking about?” Sunstreaker muttered, voice slurring as he drifted back to sleep.

“Nothing bro, sweet dreams.”

Sideswipe watched as the lamb glamor settled over his brother again, then deactivated his own optics, unaware of the illusion that developed over his own form, as the snoozed together under the tree, waiting for the next unsuspecting individual who didn’t know better than to let sleeping Lamborghinis lie.

~END.

Chapter Text

The alarm rang on schedule at 7am. Sideswipe sat up grumbling and rubbing the sleep from his optics. As usual, he could never have enough rest and usually woke up feeling grumpy - at least until he'd gotten some energon into him. Normally, Sunstreaker would be up and grumbling with him, but today the bunk below his was strangely quiet. Sideswipe leaned over the edge and looked down to to see him still asleep.

"Rise and shine, Sunshine. Prowl awaits our presence in his office," he said with mock cheer.

All he got in response was a low groan and a serious lack of movement.

Sideswipe frowned. "Hey Sunny, wake up. Prowl'll have our heads if we're late, and I don't fancy scrubbing floors any time this week."

Sunstreaker shifted slightly, but still didn't show any signs of getting up. Thoroughly irritated, Sideswipe dropped from the top bunk and landed with a clang, the noise of which made the yellow mech wince. Sideswipe knelt by his brother and was about to shake him awake, when a low rasp stopped him cold.

"Get First Aid," Sunstreaker murmured softly.

Sideswipe balked. "Sunny? Whats wrong?"

"I don't feel well. Call him, please. I don't know what's wrong."

The red mech reached to gently touch the yellow when Sunstreaker quickly caught his wrist.

"Don't," he said. "You might get it. Please, just call First Aid."

Thoroughly worried now, Sideswipe backed up a bit and opened a comm.link to the medic. "Aid, come in please. This is Sideswipe."

A sleepy sounding First Aid answered after a moment. "Aid here. Morning Sides, what's up?"

"It's Sunny. Something's wrong with him. He says he doesn't feel well and wont get up. Come down please. I don't know what to do," Sideswipe said urgently.

There was a crackle of white noise over the line. Then,

"I'll be right there. Don't get too close to him though. I don't want you getting affected in case its anything contagious. First Aid out."

Sideswipe closed the line and turned back to his brother. "Hang in there, bro. Aid's on his way. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Sunstreaker shook his head slightly. "You'll be late for duty."

"Screw duty, I'm not leaving you," Sideswipe replied.

Footsteps sounded outside and the door to their room slid open as First Aid hurried in. Quickly he came over to the yellow warrior and knelt, pulling out a scanner as he did so and running it over him, frowning slightly at the results that came up.

"Sideswipe, do you think you can bunk with maybe Mirage or Bluestreak or Jazz for tonight?" he asked the red warrior.

"Yeah, but... what's wrong with Sunny?" he asked.

"He has a virus," First Aid replied. "It's causing his internal systems to overheat by drawing heat from his exostructure and leaving his armor cold. Its similar to the influenza virus that humans are prone to catching and is slightly contagious, so just to be on the safe side, I'd rather you were not in the immediate vicinity to catch it."

"Won't you catch it though?"

"As a medic, our internal anti-virus databases update themselves every 12 hours to keep us immune to most viruses out there. Sunstreaker should be alright once I input the relevant anti-virus into him, and I'll keep an optic on him as much as I can." First Aid stood and was then pulled into Sideswipe's arms as the red mech hugged him close. "He's in good hands, I promise you."

Sideswipe placed a gentle kiss on the medic's forehead, then gave half a smirk. "Yeah, I know. Take care of him."

"You know I will," First Aid replied as the red mech headed out.

"Later bro," Sunstreaker said softly.

Once Sideswipe had gone, First Aid knelt by Sunstreaker again and opened a port on the side of his chest, fitting one end of a narrow tube to it and the other end to a syringe filled with a clear, oily substance which he then injected into the yellow warrior.

"Something to cool your systems while I get the anti-virus downloaded into you," he said as he opened another port and this time attached a cable, the other end of which was fixed to a datapad. "I'm sending it over now. It'll take a while to activate and once it does, I want you to get some sleep so it can heal you."

Sunstreaker nodded once. "Thanks Aid. Will you stay with me till then?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be on duty soon," the medic replied.

"Please, love?"

"But technically I'm monitoring a patient right now, so I'm sure Ratchet will understand." He stood. "Just let me go get something to help you. I'll be back real soon."

"Okay."

First Aid left the room, only to return ten minutes later with a warm, damp cloth. Sitting on one end of the berth, he gently drew Sunstreaker's head and shoulders onto his lap and placed the cloth to the mech's forehead, dabbing it softly to his face and neck as well. Sunstreaker sighed.

"That's nice," he said.

"I'm glad you like it. It should help to ease the heat and at the same time take some of the chill off your armor," First Aid replied.

Sunstreaker touched his free hand. "Thanks for coming."

"You know it wasn't a question. I'll always be there for you. Though I'm curious, why did you ask for me instead of Ratchet?"

The yellow mech's optics brightened slightly. "Because I knew you wouldn't leave me alone. Because you make me feel better just by being here." He gently gave the medic's hand a squeeze.

First Aid squeezed his hand back, his other hand pressing the cloth to Sunstreaker's forehead again as he smiled behind his mask. "Get some sleep love, I wont leave you."

Sunstreaker brought First Aid's hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently, eliciting a small gasp from the medic. "Love you."

"Love you too," he replied, stroking the warrior's cheek. "Now sleep and get well for me."

"Sing me something?" Sunstreaker asked, rubbing his cheek lightly against the medic's palm.

First Aid blanched. "W-what?"

"A song, a lullaby, something to help me sleep."

"I-I cant sing... And I don't know any lullabies."

"Sure you can, just make one up." He looked up at First Aid with wide optics. "Please?"

First Aid sighed. "Alright, I'll try, but its not going to be anything spectacular. I'm not Jazz." He paused for a while as he tried to think up some words, then cleared his vocalizer and began. "Rock-a-bye Sunny, now go to sleep. Leave all your worries in recharge so deep. When you wake up, all better you'll be. With a glossy new wax-job, courtesy of me."

Sunstreaker smirked, recognizing the old Earth melody the humans were so fond of, and kissed Aid's hand again.

"I'll hold you to the wax job," he said and began to power his systems down.

"Its a deal," First Aid replied, watching as the warrior's optics slowly dimmed and went out.

Chapter Text

"We're so getting into trouble for this," Sideswipe hissed to his brother.

"Shut up and keep looking," Sunstreaker hissed back. "Mags must have put that report in here somewhere, and the less anyone knows about it the better."

"It was your dumb idea to begin with. You're the one who suggested sneaking on that shuttle's round trip to Earth and back."

"Yeah, and admit it, you're glad we did it."

"Sure, but I don't want to be thrown in the brig for it, and you know we will be. We went without official permission."

"Which is why you need to shut up and help me find that stupid report."

"And if Rodimus finds us snooping in his office, we're gonna be in even more trouble."

"Roddy's a punk. He was a punk when we first met him and he'll always be one, Matrix or not."

"Except now he has 'Prime' as a last name." Sideswipe rifled through a pile of datapads stacked on the desk next to him.

"Well then stop wasting energy with your mouth and keep looking," Sunstreaker snapped, rummaging through a drawer.

"The slag do you think I'm doing?" Sideswipe asked indignantly. "And what are we gonna do if we get caught in here anyway? You even think of that before you thought this plan up?"

Sunstreaker's optics glinted. "Yes I have. Remember how enamored he was with us when he first came to Earth that time?"

"Yeah, but didn't he end up liking that pink chick?"

"Who's now with Springer? Yeah, I'm sure he's totally over that."

Sideswipe snickered. "You're evil bro."

"Never said I was good in the first place." He yanked up a datapad. "Got it. Now lets get the slag outta here."

At that point they heard footsteps outside the door and Rodimus' voice wishing someone a good night. For a split second, both froze. Sideswipe looked at Sunstreaker with a "We're fragged, I told you so" expression, right before Sunstreaker subspaced the datapad and pushed him up against the desk.

"Kiss me, quick!" he hissed.

"What the frag?" Sideswipe asked.

"Just do it! And make it good."

Half-cursing, Sideswipe leaned in and kissed Sunstreaker soundly on the mouth. Sunstreaker returned it, wrapping his arms around the red mech, just as the door opened and Rodimus walked in. The Autobot leader stopped dead in his tracks, optics widening as he saw the pair of Lamborghinis making-out quite heatedly on his desk. He knew he had to stop them, or at least look away, but something about them kept his gaze locked on to what they were doing.

A part of him remembered what it had been like to be caught between the two warriors. It had been exhilarating to say the least, and that same part of him wished to feel it again - to abandon reason and morals and just give into his wild passionate side. Just like these two did.

After a moment, Sunstreaker seemed to realize they were not alone and looked up over Sideswipe's shoulder at Rodimus. The Autobot leader noticed a slight glint to the warrior's optics, which vanished in the next instant.

"Hey Roddy," he said nonchalantly.

Sideswipe turned around. "Hey! Did you want something?"

Rodimus shifted slightly. "Uh.. yeah. This IS my office, in case you didn't realize."

"Oh, this is YOUR office?" Sideswipe began.

"We didn't know," Sunstreaker cut him off, nudging him. "Sorry, we'll leave."

They came round the desk and began to head to the door as Rodimus came further into his office.

"Wait," he said.

The Twins froze and turned to look at him in unison.

"I... well... you don't have to leave, if you don't want to," he continued. "I... uh..." He stopped and looked down, unable to continue.

"You remembered the time from before?" Sideswipe asked, moving back to the Prime slowly.

"You want to feel it again?" Sunstreaker asked, also moving back, but quicker than his twin. He circled the red-and-flame mech - now taller than he had been - and pressed up against his back.

Rodimus twitched and let out a soft gasp, head nodding slightly as a pair of yellow hands came around to stroke his hips. "Been so long... since... I felt... anything." He tilted his head back as Sunstreaker's mouth pressed against the side of his neck. "Oh... please...".

At a look from his brother, Sideswipe approached the Autobot leader from the front, encircling his waist and running his hands up the smooth broad back til he reached the base of the spoiler. Rodimus shuddered between them, moaning softly as Sideswipe's mouth brushed the other side of his neck, relishing the pure, unadulterated pleasure that coursed through him.

"More," he said firmly.

"Is that an order?" Sunstreaker purred into his audio.

"Someone could walk in and catch us," Sideswipe added.

"Door's locked," Rodimus replied. "Do as I say."

"We might get into trouble with Mags," Sunstreaker murmured, caressing his mid-section.

"I can overrule him. He exaggerates anyway." He arched slightly, trying to get the yellow mech to touch him harder.

"So if we do what you say, does that mean we're pardoned from all offenses we've committed this past week?" Sunstreaker nipped him lightly on the jaw.

"Its a deal," said Rodimus, just before Sideswipe leaned to kiss him on the mouth.

"Perfect." Sunstreaker brought his hands up along that broad, flamed chest. "Now what would you like us to do?"

He looked across at Sideswipe with a sly expression that pretty much said, "We won.".

Chapter Text

Sunstreaker shook his head, trying to clear his vision that had started to go blurry ever since they all returned from the battlefield, as he sat in a corner of the med-bay waiting for his turn at repairs. He was actually fine apart from a light stinging in his optics, but had come to have it checked out just in case. He hadn't counted on the bay being filled with other wounded though, and by the sounds of it, they all seemed worse off than he was, so he was content to wait his turn.

Except now his optics seemed to be playing up again. The sting had gotten slightly sharper and had made his vision extremely static-filled. Maybe they needed a re-boot. Shrugging to himself while he waited, he shut off his optics.

"What the frag is he doing here?" he heard Ratchet ask sharply.

Wondering who the medic was referring to, Sunstreaker powered on his optics again to see what was going on, only... he couldn't see anything. He rubbed his optics, then tried again. Still nothing. Oh this was not good.

"Sunstreaker, are you alright?" a soft voice asked.

The warrior turned his head, trying to pin-point the direction of it. It was a sweet, gentle voice - far too innocent-sounding to belong to a place like this, yet there it was. He turned his head again, listening for it with audios that seemed to be sharper now. He'd liked the sound of it.

"Sunstreaker?"

There it was! And it seemed closer now, close enough for him to recognize it as belonging to Ratchet's young apprentice medic.

"First Aid?" Another turn of his head.

"I'm right here Sunstreaker."

The voice came from near his right so Sunstreaker turned his head accordingly. "Aid?"

"Here."

A hand rested gently on his cheek and he flinched. Apparently his sense of hearing wasn't the only sense that had sharpened. The touch on his cheek drew back slightly.

"What's the matter?"

He could hear the frown in the young medic's voice.

"I can't see," he replied. "My optics wont work. I think they may have been damaged earlier."

Light fingers began to gently touch his face again, lifting it up and probing around his optics carefully. Sunstreaker held still while he did so, not wanting to scare the little medic off since he… well… he liked the guy. He was a heck of a lot gentler in his treatment than Ratchet was, and Sunstreaker often found himself going to the younger medic for minor problems.

"When did you first feel that something was wrong?" First Aid asked him.

He sounded a lot closer this time and Sunstreaker wondered just how close he was. Apart from Sideswipe, most mechs preferred to keep a certain distance from him, fearing his unpredictability and the fact that he was much stronger and more vicious than they were. Yet here was this young medic, possibly right up in his face.

"When we left the field, I felt a stinging," he said.

He raised his own hand and stretched it out carefully, stopping when he felt the smooth metal of what was most likely the medic's mask and running his fingers lightly across it. It was only a couple of inches from his own face.

"You should have said something then." The gentle voice sounded a bit sterner.

Sunstreaker's wandering fingers were stopped as the medic caught them in his other hand and gave them a light squeeze. The fingers on his face began to move off, and the warrior leaned forward just slightly, trying to keep contact.

"Sunstreaker?" there was puzzlement in the voice now.

"I'm sorry," Sunstreaker said, though sorry for what exactly he didn't say. "They just felt nice... your fingers I mean. They felt nice touching me."

"Oh." Was that surprise he heard? "I need to call Ratchet over. He needs to know, about your optics that is. Wait here, I'll get him."

Reluctantly Sunstreaker nodded, feeling the medic release him and move away. He honed his audios in on the Protectobot's footsteps, listening as they walked steadily over to another part of the bay, slowed then stopped, shifted slightly then stopped again. He heard the gentle voice murmur softly though he couldn't catch the exact words, then Ratchet's equally soft murmur in response.

He straightened as Ratchet neared, and heard First Aid follow a step behind as the senior medic knelt in front of the warrior and examined his damaged optics. A few colorful curses followed as he heard the older medic stand again.

“His optic lenses are burnt out,” Ratchet said. “They’re beyond repair so I’m gonna have to ask Wheeljack to construct a new pair tonight and fix them in tomorrow. Until then,” he clapped the younger medic on the shoulder. “I need you to take care of him.”

“M-me sir?” First Aid asked as Sunstreaker raised his head to them.

“Yes you. I don’t trust some of these mechs not to try and do something to him, especially when word gets out that he cant see. Normally I’d leave it to Sideswipe to watch him, but that red terror wont be back till the day after, and the last thing I need is him raising merry hell because someone took a shot at his blind twin.”

“But what can I do?” First Aid asked.

“You answer to me, that is enough,” Ratchet replied.

“Hey, if you don’t want to its alright,” Sunstreaker said. “Don’t force him Ratch. You know how most mechs are about me.”

“No I, I want to,” First Aid replied. “I can do it.”

“Good. Help him back to his quarters for now and make sure you both get some rest. I’ll see you in here tomorrow. Now scoot. I have other work to do,” Ratchet said and moved off.

Sunstreaker heard First Aid move close to him again, and a light hand rested on his arm. He held the requested arm out and felt the medic hold it firmly, but not roughly. Then he pulled himself up, stumbling slightly as he tried to orientate himself without his optics to help coordinate. First Aid was there, his hands steadying him carefully, letting him find his feet and get comfortable with his lack of vision.

“Lead the way, Aid,” he said in a quiet, deep voice few mechs ever had the pleasure of hearing since it was usually raised in a shout or snarl.

It made First Aid tingle slightly as he entwined his arm with the warrior’s and rested the yellow mech’s hand on the crook of his elbow. “Right, uh… here we go.”

As they headed out of the med-bay, First Aid leading for the most part, and Sunstreaker following wherever he was guided, the warrior smiled to himself, feeling a strange sort of comfort at having the little medic close to him. Though he couldn’t see, he could sense the younger mech walking at pace with him rather than pulling him along from in front like most other mechs would.

“You’re smiling,” the gentle voice said from his side, slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I do that on occasion,” he answered. He stopped as the medic stopped, then moved again when the medic moved.

“Ah. Its just… I rarely see it… so I thought…”

“That I couldn’t, or didn’t?” Sunstreaker sensed the nod more than saw it. “Most of the time I have very little to smile about.”

“So what were you smiling about?”

“You… that fact that you’re leading me around.”

“Uh…you don’t like it? I could stop if it bothers you, or if you don’t like it.” He sounded concerned.

“No, no that’s not it, and if you stopped, how would I get to my room? I’ve never been blind before. I smiled because i like it… and I like the fact that its you doing it.”

“Oh.” There was that surprised note again. “And you’re not afraid that I might lead you astray or harm you when you’re vulnerable like this?”

“No. Aren’t you afraid that I might attack you and try to snap your neck?”

“I never once thought you’d do that to me. I don’t believe you’re as violent as all those mechs say you are. From what I’ve seen and heard while I patch them up, they’re usually the ones that instigate it. I just wish you didn’t have to get punished for it all the time.”

“And why would you care if I get punished for it or not?” Sunstreaker asked as he felt a light tug on his hand which meant they were turning right.

“Because I care,” First Aid said simply. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sunstreaker smiled again, not having an answer to that. He stopped again as the medic stopped, and then smelt the familiar smell of the room he shared with his currently-absent twin – earthy with a hint of a metallic undertone and a trace of spice. First Aid removed his hand from his arm and guided it up to the key-pad so he could unlock the door. Sunstreaker keyed the code in by memory, having done it so often he didn’t need to see the placement of the numbers. They entered, and First Aid paused for a moment to look around.

“Not as messy as you thought it would be?” Sunstreaker asked, guessing the cause of the halt.

Again he sensed the nod. “I thought it would be, yes. Who keeps it neat?”

“I do.” Sunstreaker chanced the short path to his berth by himself, but didn’t get far before First Aid was there again, hands guiding him gently to the bunk.They sat down together, then Sunstreaker felt the gentle hands start to move off his arm and back. “Don’t!” he said before he could stop himself.

First Aid froze. “Don’t what? Sunstreaker?”

“Don’t move your hands. Please.” He moved his own hands, trying to feel for the medic. “I like them… I like you touching me… please stay.”

First Aid caught the warrior’s hand in his again and moved slightly closer to him. “I’m here.”

Sunstreaker could sense the fear in him, but also a tinge of excitement and… something else. “I wont hurt you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” the medic replied. “It’s just, I’ve never felt anything like this before. No one really wants to be with someone who doesn’t like to fight.”

“No one likes to be with someone who fights all the time either,” Sunstreaker said. “I guess we might have more in common than you thought.” He pushed against First Aid’s hand with his own and touched the smooth metal of the medic’s mask again. “I cant see what you have to hide behind here, you can take them off.”

“I-I’m not hiding anything.” First Aid reached up to detach it and the protective visor. “But if you cant see them, why do you want me to remove them?”

“Because I don’t like talking to a mask.”

First Aid removed them.

With the barriers gone, Sunstreaker carefully moved his hands up to touch the young medic’s face, his fingers moving lightly, softly, cautiously over the other mech’s features, gently tracing his optics and their shape, his cheek-plates, his mouth and lips. First Aid held still all the while, a little nervous, but liking the touches all the same. He hadn’t expected a warrior such as Sunstreaker to have such an incredibly gentle touch.

“What are you doing?” he asked the yellow mech.

“Painting a mental picture of your face. I’m an artist after all,” he replied. “It’s nice.” He felt the other mech’s cheeks warm from beneath. “And you’re blushing.” His hands moved down to the medic’s neck, caressing the metal, and he heard a soft gasp come from the other’s vocalizer. “I wont hurt you,” Sunstreaker murmured again.

“I know you wont… I… I trust you… and that was nice.” First Aid wondered at his own daring.

“You can touch me,” Sunstreaker said softly, his voice deepening again.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” First Aid admitted. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Just touch me,” the warrior repeated. “Anywhere you want to.”

He sensed First Aid’s moment of hesitation, then a slight movement before a hand came to rest gently on his back. He felt fingers run lightly along a seam and shifted slightly to press himself into the touch. Carefully he searched, then wrapped his own arm around the smaller mech, drawing him slightly closer to him. First Aid reached up with his other hand and touched Sunstreaker’s face, running his fingers over the warrior’s mouth from which came that lovely deep voice of his.

Sunstreaker kissed his fingers softly as they traced his lips and felt the other mech shudder slightly in his arms. Then he remembered how sensitive a medic’s hands could be.

“Aid?” he asked quietly.

“Mmm? Yes Sun?” The hand moved off his lips to caress his cheek. “Can I call you Sun?”

“It’s fine,” Sunstreaker replied. “Your hands, did I hurt them?”

“It’s fine,” First Aid replied in turn, savoring the wonderful sensations the warrior’s touches were giving him. “It felt nice.”

Sunstreaker brought his hand up from the medic’s neck and gently cupped his cheek. Since he couldn’t see anything, he didn’t want to make any moves that might kill the moment entirely. Instead, he carefully drew First Aid’s face up, and for his part, First Aid let him. For some reason he felt completely safe with the big, proud warrior eventhough he knew most other bots would have balked at the very thought of being alone with the mech.

Their noses touched, and Sunstreaker leaned forward just slightly, gently guiding the younger mech’s lips to his till he felt them touch his own and closed his mouth around them, kissing him softly, ready to pull back if it was unwanted. He heard First Aid sigh softly and kissed him again, figuring it safe to continue. Carefully, the medic kissed him back, tightening his hold on the warrior just the little bit more.

Then Sunstreaker moved to draw back.

“Don’t…” He sensed First Aid move closer to him. “I liked it. Please, can we do it again?”

His hands cupped Sunstreaker’s face and drew the warrior’s mouth back to his, and Sunstreaker obliged as soon as he felt the medic’s lips touch his again. He held First Aid close to him and leaned forward carefully, awkwardly, bracing himself with one hand as he pushed the smaller mech down onto the berth. First Aid sank into the soft padding without any objections….

…. The next morning, Sunstreaker felt himself being shaken lightly and heard First Aid’s gentle voice in his audio again. He powered on his optics and wondered why it was still dark before he realized that he was still blind. Then he remembered what else had happened the previous night.

“Aid?” he asked.

“I’m here, Sun. Are you alright?”

“Just fine, aside from my optics, but what about you? If I did anything I shouldn’t have done-.”

“Sshhh.” He felt First Aid place a finger to his lips and fell silent as the medic turned his face to him. “Last night was fine… I… I liked it…” From the way he spoke, Sunstreaker guessed he was blushing again. “I just… I want to know… why?”

Sunstreaker shrugged and kissed the finger lightly, smiling. “I like you, Aid,” he murmured.

“But what did you possibly see in me?”

“Nothing.” He leaned and nuzzled the medic. “Love is blind.”

Chapter Text

Prowl jumped and looked up from his desk as Sunstreaker stormed into the room and slammed the door firmly shut behind him. A dark scowl marred his otherwise flawless face as he leveled the tactician with it and crossed his arms over his glossy yellow chest plate.

“Sunstreaker, what can I do for you?” Prowl asked, finding it a little harder than normal to maintain optic contact with the warrior.

“Can the pleasantries slag,” Sunstreaker snapped. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I had to,” Prowl replied matter-of-factly. “It was out of line and you know it.”

“The slag it was. You know fragging well how it started, so why is it always us that has to pay for it while they get off scot-free?”

“I’d hardly call answering to Ratchet getting off easy, but your brother should know by now how scenarios like this end. I still do not understand why you two choose to give in to their provocation”

“Because you don’t know what its like to have a brother, that’s why,” Sunstreaker countered.

“No I do not, but that is no excuse and you know it.”

The warrior slammed his palms down on the desk. “Fraggit Prowl! Are you telling me its wrong to stand up for each other when someone puts them down?!”

Prowl pushed back from his desk and stood as well, facing down the larger warrior. “It is wrong for you to physically abuse another Autobot, especially when we are in the middle of a war. Its bad enough we have mechs getting injured in battle, the last thing we need is them getting injured through in-fighting.”

Sunstreaker still glared hotly at him, but said nothing. Prowl sighed and came around his desk till he was standing beside the yellow Lamborghini. Gently and carefully he placed a hand on the mech’s back. Sunstreaker looked up and back at him through slightly narrowed optics, but didn’t reject the gesture.

“Listen,” Prowl tried again in a more informal tone. “I know what happens between you all, but I can't play favorites. My job does not let me condone your actions, by right I should be giving Sideswipe a much stricter punishment for attacking another Autobot, but I am not.”

Sunstreaker looked back down at the surface of the desk. “So I’m supposed to believe that what you do to us, you do out of compassion?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The warrior gave a bitter laugh and finally pulled away from Prowl’s touch. “Save your pity Prowl. You don’t have to use your job as an excuse. If you don’t like us, just say so.” He straightened to his full height.

Prowl took a step towards him again. “I never said that. I do admire you – for who you are and what you do – when you’re not busy putting Minibots in the med-bay. I would like to see you take their criticisms in good grace and not feel the need for violence towards them every time they hit you with a verbal barb.”

Sunstreaker shook his head and banged a fist against the near wall. “I am not going to stand around and watch while some runt insults my brother, neither will Sideswipe.”

“Then you don’t exactly leave me a choice,” Prowl replied. “If you are not willing to make the effort to control your tempers, why should I bend the rules in your favor? Show me an improvement in your behavior and I can lighten my punishments.”

Without warning, the warrior lashed out, snaring the tactician by the shoulders and pinning him up firmly against the wall, though not roughly so that his doors were forced flat against his back. He leaned in close so that his nose was mere inches from Prowl’s face, optics narrowed to fiery blue slits.

“Let me make this clear Prowl,” he said in a low voice. “Stop trying to turn us into lambs so you can sleep better at night. I don’t want your pity, and I’m sure as hell not going to change according to your whims and fancies. All I want is for you to stop turning a blind optic to what goes on out there, and making us your scapegoats whenever you need to punish someone. If someone’s going to provoke me or Sideswipe, they’d better be prepared to have the slag beaten out of them later. So instead of lecturing me on how to be a lamb, how about you call those runts in here and teach them a thing or two about staying the frag away from us?”

Prowl kept a steady gaze on the warrior, eventhough his fuel-pump hammered madly in his chassis. “Consider your suggestion noted.”

“Good.” Sunstreaker released him and stepped back, a frown still darkening his handsome features.

A moment later the door slammed shut again.

Chapter Text

“Sun”

“Not now.”

“Sun please.”

“I can't.”

“You’ve been here for hours.”

“Just a little while more.”

First Aid sighed and straightened, folding his arms loosely over his chest as he looked at his lover’s back, feeling all but completely dismissed at the moment. His lips were curled into a pout, even though he knew the warrior couldn’t see it, and he sighed out loud.

“How long more is ‘just a little while’ supposed to be?” he asked.

“A little while,” Sunstreaker replied offhandedly, not taking his attention off the canvas in front of him.

“You are so lucky Sideswipe isn't here right now.”

“Mmhmm.”

First Aid almost threw his hands up in frustration. “Sun!”

“Yes Aid?” Sunstreaker focused on drawing his paintbrush across the canvas is swift, deft strokes.

“Forget it, I’m leaving.” First Aid turned to go. “Have fun with your art.”

Sunstreaker canted a glance back over his shoulder at the young medic’s retreating form and smirked to himself. “Would you like to join me?” he asked in a soft, inviting voice.

First Aid froze in his tracks and slowly turned his head back, in time to see a slight glint in the warrior’s optics. “Wh-what?”

The yellow mech turned back and replaced the painted canvas with a fresh, clean one. “I asked if you’d like to try, with me.”

“Try what?” First Aid turned back a little more.

“Painting.”

“But I… I’m… I’ve…”

“It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question Aid.”

“I… uh… yes.”

“Then come over here and sit with me.” Sunstreaker shifted back on the stool he was sitting on, and looked over his shoulder at the medic again.

Like a magnet, First Aid found himself walking over to where the warrior was, and couldn’t resist placing a gentle hand on his back as he circled the other mech and then sat down in front of his lover, carefully positioning himself between his legs. He felt Sunstreaker’s chest press up against his back as the warrior leaned forward just slightly and squeezed some paint onto a metal plate beside them.

“You’re going to have to show me what to do,” First Aid said quietly. “Because I’ve never done this before. Do I need a brush?”

“No, not for this,” Sunstreaker murmured in his audio. “Just use your hands… your fingers. Like this….” He dabbed his finger in some yellow paint and drew it across the canvas.

First Aid tilted his head back slightly and nuzzled him, coating a finger in some black paint. “What are we painting?”

“Anything you want.” The yellow mech wrapped his free arm around the smaller medic’s waist, cuddling him close to him, as he gently rested his chin on the red-and-white’s shoulder. “Just go with it.” He closed his hand gently around First Aid’s, guiding it from the paint, to the canvas, and back again.

The medic sighed contently and leaned against him, letting the warrior direct him anywhere he wanted. He was just content to be here with him, sharing in one of his favorite pastimes. Yellow fingers stroked lightly across his mid-section and he gasped, shifting slightly and brushing against Sunstreaker’s thighs.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the picture?” he asked.

“I am,” Sunstreaker purred. “And it’s beautiful.” He kissed his lover gently on the cheek, twining their hands and stroking their fingers across the canvas together.

“No, I’m just plain Aid.”

He kissed the medic’s cheek again. “Very…” He kissed the other cheek. “Beautiful…”.

First Aid felt his faceplates warm and ducked his head a little, cuddling into the larger warrior’s body and nuzzling the side of his neck. Sunstreaker nudged his head up and smiled gently at him, dabbing a spot of green paint on his nose. The medic laughed, trying to look indignant and failing.

“Hey!” He faked a pout.

Sunstreaker added two spots to his cheeks, making him smile again. First Aid’s own finger – stained with red paint – drew a line down the warrior’s nose.

“You are so getting that off later,” Sunstreaker murmured, gently nipping at the finger.

“I’ll be glad to,” First Aid purred.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“You want me to take just the paint off?”

Sunstreaker looked at his young lover half in surprise and half in amusement. It wasn’t every day the medic talked cheeky – that was usually Sideswipe’s arena – so it was a bit of a treat to hear him do it. “What did you have in mind?”

First Aid added some blue to the canvas. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Sunstreaker nipped him. “Tease.”

“No more than you, my love.”

The yellow mech chuckled. “Point for you.”

His unstained hand gently rubbed and caressed the medic’s free hand as he nuzzled into the other’s neck, their hands still moving together across the canvas, mixing the paint into colorful strokes and swirls.

“Mmm… Sun…” First Aid moaned softly. “Please don’t stop.”

“I wont.” He leaned and gently kissed his lover’s neck.

The picture came together slowly. To one who didn’t know, it was nothing more than a haphazard mix of random colors. To them it was a merging, of sorts, of one with the other; a blend of their efforts and their love and the time they spent together. Now and then they would stop and dab paint on each other in a playful jest, Sunstreaker tolerating it only because he knew First Aid would wash it off him later.

At last, Sunstreaker wrapped both arms around the younger mech and held him closer, nuzzling every part of his lover’s body that he could reach. For his part, First Aid placed his arms over the warrior’s, relishing his cuddles and nuzzling back when he was able. Sunstreaker then reached up and stroked a paint-stained thumb across the medic’s cheek, turning his face gently up to his.

“I love you,” he murmured.

First Aid cupped his lover’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

Sunstreaker nuzzled his way a little down First Aid’s wrist till their mouths met in a gentle, lingering kiss. They touched noses for a moment, then kissed again. Finally First Aid pulled back, turning slightly in Sunstreaker’s embrace.

“So when’s my next art lesson?”

Chapter Text

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged a look, then turned their attention back to Jazz, who was grinning from audio to audio.

“Can you run that by us again?” Sideswipe asked.

“Women’s Wheels magazine want to do a set of calendar spreads for their more adult female readers usin’ some o’ us as the poster mechs,” Jazz explained patiently again. “Basically, you two get yer own calendar and they want to do the photoshoot this afternoon. Seein’ as how you boys have the day off, I went ahead and said ok. The crew’s already set up a li’l photo studio down in th’ trainin’ room, so y’re free to go down soon as y’re ready.”

“Like right now?” asked Sunstreaker.

“Y’got good audios, Sunshine. Right now. They’re waitin’ for ya,” replied Jazz. “Get scootin’, they ain't got forever.”

Quickly he shepherded the Twins out of his office and out into the hall before shutting the door on the bewildered pair. Outside, the Twins exchanged another look, then Sideswipe shrugged and began walking towards the training room. Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge.

“Hey, our own calendar, bro,” the red mech said. “What’ve we got to lose? I thought you’d be thrilled at the thought of having your picture taken for all the world to see.”

“Sure… Its just, Jazz said ‘adult spread’. I’m just wondering what kinda pictures these are gonna be y’know,” Sunstreaker replied.

Sideswipe backed up and slung an arm around his brother, tracing a seam on his helm with his other hand. He gave a mock pout. “You’re not shy to pose with your own twin brother are you?”

Sunstreaker smirked. “Of course not. I make both of us look good.”

“There’s the spirit. Now lets go do this thing, shall we?”

The yellow mech let out a long-suffering sigh and let his twin steer him down to the training bay…. When they got there, they found the room covered in several spotlights. A very large bluescreen had been put up along one of the walls, flanked on either side by two wide foil-screens.

Three women and two men were waiting for them. No sooner had they stepped inside when the women shooed them to one of the benches and made them sit down. One of them stood in front of them.

“When was the last time you waxed?” she asked sharply.

“Me? This morning,” Sunstreaker replied. “Him? Last month.”

Sideswipe had the grace to look sheepish.

The woman shook her head and turned to the other two females. “Get the red one waxed and ready to go in ten.”

The women – obviously her assistants – scurried to polish up Sideswipe and have him look presentable in front of the cameras. Liking the attention he was getting over his brother, Sideswipe was more than happy to assist the girls in his polishing, obligingly lifting up his arms or bending down when he was required to. Sunstreaker watched impatiently, wanting to get started on the photography part of it.

Finally Sideswipe was ready and the woman beckoned for them to join her in front of the blue screen.

“I don’t know if your supervisor has already informed you, but as we are catering to our adult readers with this calendar, we need you to pose in suggestive or provocative positions,” she barked out. “Our director of photography, Donald, will tell you what to do.” She beckoned the man forward with her finger. “Get this done in two hours or less. I want us packed and ready to go by the time I get back.”

Donald nodded and the woman spun on her lethal stilettos and walked out of the room, whipping out her cell phone as she did so. As soon as she was clear, a sigh of relief went up from the other humans.

“Well don’t get stepped on by a Dinobot anything,” Sideswipe said.

Donald shrugged and gestured for them to step forward. “That’s Candace for you. All the personality of a cactus, but good at her job with getting things done.”

“Seems to me all she does is yell at people,” Sunstreaker commented, positioning himself in front of the bluescreen.

Sideswipe latched onto his brother from behind and made a show of nuzzling his neck. “This suggestive enough for you?”

“Perfect,” Donald replied, signalling the photographer to start snapping. “Just do whatever you like, pretend we’re not here. We’ll choose the best later.”

Sunstreaker tilted his head back slightly, letting the red mech do what he wanted. If he tuned out the lights, setting and humans from his head, it actually felt good to have Sideswipe close to him, if only for the fact that they hadn’t had much quality time together in weeks. He let out a soft sigh of contentment and leaned back against his twin as the red warrior gently kissed his neck.

“Miss me huh?” Sideswipe murmured in his audio.

“Very much,” Sunstreaker whispered back.

Then he spun, got behind his brother and pressed him up against the bluescreen, pinning his hands to the flat surface. He leaned his head forward slightly and Sideswipe looked back over his shoulder at him with a half-sultry, half-submissive expression; almost inviting the yellow warrior to try and take him right there.

“Tease,” Sunstreaker murmured.

“But you love me anyway,” Sideswipe murmured back.

The yellow mech turned his twin in his arms and nuzzled back, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently rubbing the back of his helm with his hands. Sideswipe about purred and nuzzled into his arms, loving the touches and attention he was getting, oblivious to the clicks of the camera and comments of the humans. He dropped to a knee and softly mouthed Sunstreaker’s very sensitive left seam.

Sunstreaker just about followed him to the ground at that touch, biting his lip hard against the cry of pleasure that threatened to come out. In turn, he touched Sideswipe’s right-side seam and the red mech whimpered quietly in his arms. Taking advantage of his twin’s distraction, he pushed Sideswipe flat onto his back and straddled him. Sideswipe propped himself up on his elbows, facing Sunstreaker down defiantly.

“Hold that pose while we change the film!” Donald called.

Sunstreaker looked right back at him, daring him to try and defy him of his dominant position, the human’s words barely registering in his processor and vaguely aware of the camera clicking into action again.

Growling softly, Sideswipe sat up, pushing against his brother till he was kneeling between the yellow warrior’s legs. He placed a hand on Sunstreaker’s thigh as the other mech reached to stroke a seam along his hip, burying his face in the curve of his twin’s neck and shoulder to muffle a moan.

From the door, Bluestreak stood in the shadows and watched with wide optics and half-open mouth. He knew the brothers liked to love on each other, but he’d never actually seen them do it to this extent, and in public. To say it turned him on would be an understatement. His optics met Sunstreaker’s and the yellow twin smirked.

“We have a voyeur,” he murmured to Sideswipe under the guise of kissing along his jaw-line. “Blue’s gawking from the door.”

“Let him gawk,” Sideswipe replied, kissing up Sunstreaker’s neck. “Just means more fun for us later.”

“I’m thinking later should be now.” Sunstreaker nipped lightly below the red mech’s audio receptor.

“Then let’s wrap this up.” Sideswipe nuzzled his way to the yellow warrior’s mouth.

Their mouths met and they kissed each other hungrily, Sunstreaker bringing a hand up to caress Sideswipe’s cheek, as the red mech slipped an arm around his twin and stroked his back.

“And cut!” Donald called.

They broke off their kiss and smiled at each other as they stood up. The director approached them, beaming and thanked them for their time. The girls muttered something about needing to cool off and quickly rushed outside, drawing the Twins’ attention back to the door and the conspicuously absent Bluestreak. Reaching a silent agreement, they took their leave and headed out into the hallway, but they hadn’t gotten very far when a pair of arms yanked both of them into a darkened room.

“Now let’s see a private demonstration,” a familiar voice purred.

Chapter Text

First Aid waited at the spot behind the volcano where Sunstreaker had asked him to. He wondered why, since the yellow warrior had not mentioned it over the comm.link, saying only that he needed some help to clean up and he would rather die than have to walk through the Ark looking like he did. The medic soon realized why, when the yellow Lamborghini rounded the corner, and just barely stifled a giggle. A large arrangement of flowers covered almost half his entire hood, and another, smaller arrangement adorned his back end.

“Oh Sun,” he said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “What happened?”

“Yeah, go ahead and laugh,” Sunstreaker replied, a little bitterly. “I was helping out a friend on her wedding day, is that so bad? Her bridal car couldn’t make it on time, so Sideswipe and I stepped in to help. Her friends just got a little enthusiastic when the time came to see her off.”

“Of course it's not bad Sun. That was a very nice thing to do for her, and I’m sure she appreciates it very much. I’m sorry, you’re obviously in some discomfort. What can I do to help?”

“Just get those flowers out so I can transform,” the warrior almost pleaded.

First Aid patted the slighted mech’s shiny yellow hood affectionately as he took off the main arrangement from his front bumper, then moved to his back end to remove the flowers there. Smiling to himself, he rubbed a hand along his fender as he did so. Sunstreaker jumped at the touch and cast his scanners back to see what First Aid was doing, but the medic was a picture of innocence as he attended to the task at hand. Thinking he had imagined it, the warrior settled back down. Grinning, the medic then reached and stroked the area under his bumper gently.

Sunstreaker shuddered hard as a tingle of pleasure shot through him. He had definitely not imagined THAT.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, voice hitching slightly.

“Sshh, just relax Sun,” First Aid cooed, still stroking under Sunstreaker’s bumper and feeling the yellow mech tremble in delight. “I’m going to make you feel better.”

His fingers worked between the panels underneath him to dislodge several small flowers that had clogged near his exhaust outlet. The warrior bit back a moan as he felt First Aid’s fingertips hit several pleasure points along the way to their destination at the internal opening of his exhaust outlet. He whimpered softly as the fingers probed and dislodged more tiny flowers, then let out a sigh of disappointment when they withdrew.

“Aid…” a dozen questions were asked in that name.

“I need to wash out what I can first,” the medic replied as he reached for the end of a high-pressure hose and turned it on.

Sunstreaker gasped as the cold water hit him, suppressing another moan as the medic directed the flow to wash out his systems, the movement and pressure massaging even more sensitive circuitry in his under-carriage.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered.

First Aid purred. “If its really bothering you, I could stop.”

“No!” Sunstreaker exclaimed, a little quicker than he would have liked. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Very sure. Just forget I said anything. Keep going.”

That was exactly what First Aid wanted to hear as he shut off the water and tossed the hose aside, placing on hand on the mech’s back end to prevent any sudden movements as he reached under with his other hand and began to stroke the plating once more. Again he felt Sunstreaker trembling, and he smiled to himself, liking the feeling of being in control.

“Relax,” he told the warrior softly. “This might hurt otherwise and I don’t want to cause you any pain.”

Sunstreaker’s voice was a little tight. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in my position right now.”

“Would you like me to be?”

The yellow mech would have gaped had he been in robot mode. “We could try it later.”

“Mmm, yes we could. I’d love to feel your hand up in me.”

He would have also shaken his head in disbelief. Was this his Aid happily talking dirty to him without a trace of embarrassment in his voice? Well if it was, he certainly wanted to hear more. That, coupled with what he was doing with his hand, were doing crazy things to his internal erogenous zones and had them screaming for more. A moan escaped his vocalizer as the medic’s hand slipped into his under-carriage and his fingers began to play around the various gears, pipes and pistons, dislodging more flowers that the water hadn’t been able to wash away.

“Primus Aid…” Sunstreaker half-moaned.

“Yes Sun?” First Aid asked, voice perfectly light and innocent. “Are you feeling uncomfortable? Am I doing anything wrong?”

“You know fragging well what you’re doing.” Another whimper as white fingertips tickled near his exhaust outlet again.

“I’m making you feel better,” he replied, as his fingers fondled yet another piston.

Sunstreaker’s reply was cut off by a sudden jolt of pleasure that made him moan in pure bliss. “Oohhh… Aid please… do that again, right there…”.

“You mean this?”

The medic gently gripped a length of thick cable and rubbed it. The warrior’s reply was a strangled cry and a shudder that shook his entire frame. First Aid kept it up, thoroughly molesting each and every part he touched inside Sunstreaker’s under-carriage, relishing the sweet moans and whimpers the yellow mech made with every touch, stroke and fondle, till he was finally up to the point of transforming and shagging First Aid six ways from Cybertron.

His plans, however, were brutally interrupted by Ratchet, who was not at all pleased at finding his apprentice bent over the warrior with a hand halfway up his internal systems, and said warrior all but quivering on his tyres.

“What the frag do you think you’re doing, Aid?”

First Aid looked back at the Chief Medical Officer with optics wide and cherubic behind his clear blue visor. “Cleaning out Sunstreaker’s systems, Sir. The water didn’t get it all out.”

“Get all what out?”

The junior medic withdrew his hand and held up a fistful of small flowers, letting Sunstreaker finally slump lower on his wheels in exhaustion. “These, Sir. They were clogging his exhaust outlet.”

Ratchet quirked an optic ridge at him, then turned to go. “When you’re done fingering and giving him a hand-job, kindly report to the med-bay. You have work to do, in case you forgot.”

“Y-yes, Sir.” First Aid saluted, blushing hard, his faceplates burning. He waited till Ratchet had walked away, then turned back to a surprisingly quiet Sunstreaker. “Sun?” he asked. “Are you alright, love?”

“Not really.” There was a slight undertone of mischief in his voice. “I think you missed a spot Aid. Think you can feel me up and get the rest of those flowers out?”

First Aid grinned behind his mask as he knelt behind the yellow sports car again. “You know I can,” he said, as his hand slowly made his way inside his lover.

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful spring day, and over at Autobot City, the survivors of the great battle that had taken place only two days ago, struggled to pick up the pieces of their broken home. Several much-loved Autobots had perished in the fighting and now lay together in one of the empty hangars awaiting their final journey. Those who remained now faced the decision of what to do with them, as they went about their tasks of cleaning up in a somber silence.

The sound of something shattering violently against a hard surface startled many, and some summoned their weapons wondering if they were being attacked again. One of these was Sideswipe – rifle in one hand, piledriver locked into place on the other – fresh out of medical for some minor injuries sustained in the fight.

“FRAG!!!”

The red mech relaxed. It was no Decepticon but his own dear twin brother, newly arrived from Cybertron, and throwing a tantrum over something or the other. From the curses and crashes he heard, it was not hard to pin-point the yellow Lamborghini’s location to their shared quarters. Replacing his weaponry, Sideswipe made his way over, then stopped at the doorway.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Guess they weren’t kidding when they mentioned some of the living quarters were wrecked.”

Their mostly-neat room – thanks in part to Sunstreaker’s housekeeping – lay in messy near-ruin. Part of the ceiling and a wall had caved in, and Sunstreaker was now wading through the rubble, looking for anything that could be salvaged. He didn’t look at all pleased, and mechs were wisely giving the room a wide berth.

The yellow mech picked up something else and hurled it against the near wall with another curse, watching as it smashed into bits.

“Whoa Sunny, calm down,” Sideswipe said, taking a step inside.

“Slag off!” Sunstreaker growled.

“Its my room, too. Don’t I have a say in what I get to keep and what gets turned into a projectile?”

“There’s nothing left.”

“Sure there is.” Sideswipe quickly bent down and subspaced a few treasured items of his own before his brother got to them.

“There’s nothing Sideswipe. It’s all gone, all of it.” Sunstreaker kicked aside a few more things.

“It's not all gone, look,” Sideswipe held up a holo-projector, their combined collection of music and some other mementos. “We still got these, and I’m sure there’s other stuff that can be fixed.”

Sunstreaker shoved debris off the desk. “There isn't anything left to fix, there’s nothing left to save. They’re all gone!”

“They?” Sideswipe echoed. Then it hit him. “You mean…”

“Ratchet! Prowl! Wheeljack! Jazz! Prime!” He punctuated each name by hurling large pieces of debris against the walls and floor. “They’re gone! All of them! And I couldn’t even… I never….”

He dropped to his knees in the middle of the mess he’d created, head bowed and shoulders trembling. Sideswipe knelt in front of him and wrapped him in his arms.

“Shh Sunny, it's not your fault. No, don’t argue,” he said when his brother started to protest. “It's not. There was no way you could have known, or arrived before you did.”

“Couldn’t even say goodbye, or thank you.”

“Neither could I.” Sideswipe sighed. “But don’t give up yet. There may be hope for Jazz and the others on the Moonbases. Magnus took a team to go rescue them.” He picked up a broken lamp that Wheeljack had once made for them and placed it in his twin’s hands. “Look, I think this can still be fixed. Lets go ask Grapple or Hoist, shall we?”

Sunstreaker stared at it, unwilling to move. “You go.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Sideswipe cupped and gently raised his twin’s head. “Why don’t we see if there’s anything else in here that can be fixed then?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Just pick a spot and start looking.”

Sunstreaker looked around the room helplessly, his optics slightly out of focus – as if he was looking for something he couldn’t see clearly. Two thin streaks of clear fluid traced a path down his face from the corners of his optics.

“I just want them to come back, bro.”

Sideswipe touched his forehead to his brother’s, unable to stop the identical twin streaks that leaked from his own optics.

“So do I.”

“I don’t think I can get this place clean again.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just get a new room.”

They sat together in the mess that was their room, just holding and feeding off each other’s strength and support. There would be a time for order later.

Chapter Text

Snow

He’d never seen the likes of it in all his years of life here on Earth.

Granted that he’d only been alive for a few years, period, and that all those years had been spent living in a wrecked space shuttle out in the middle of the desert, he supposed he could be excused a little bit for looking at the falling white fluff with all the wide-opticked wonder of a sparkling.

And compared to his much older companion, he WAS something of a sparkling still.

Frozen water, Ratchet had said it was. Rainwater that solidified as it passed through the cold clouds that partially covered a grey, winter sky, and each one was supposed to have its own unique crystalline makeup. He let a few fall on his out-stretched forearm, but found that because it was white, the snowflakes wouldn’t show up that clearly even when his optics magnified them.

Slightly disappointed, he brushed them off and was about to straighten when an arm stretched out to him. Snowflakes rested on a black forearm inviting him to take a closer look, which he did eagerly, and he saw for himself that his mentor was right. Each one was similar and yet so different, and he marveled at each one, again with innocent wonder.

Having examined each one thoroughly, he finally looked up gratefully at the beautiful crested face that smiled back at him.

“Were you laughing at me, Sun?” he asked.

His companion nodded. “Couldn’t help it Aid, you looked kinda funny the way you were staring so hard at all those snowflakes.”

“Its not my fault. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

“I can tell.”

Ah Sunstreaker, his Sunlight, the very embodiment of the solar beams that often covered the desert. Beautiful to look at, but deadly if you got too close. A touch could burn – as certain Minibots could attest. Even now, his yellow armor stood out like a beacon against the dreary greys, whites and blacks of this winter-covered landscape.

Something cold and wet smacked against his shoulder, making him jump. He quickly looked up again to see the other mech bend down and scoop up some snow into his hand, which he then proceeded to shape into a sphere. That done, he then threw it at him. The sphere hit his head with a soft, slushy sound and broke apart. He blinked in surprise. It hadn’t hurt at all, it just felt cold, soft and wet.

“W-what was that?” he asked.

“Snowball,” Sunstreaker replied. “Snow is very versatile. Its like sand. The wetness makes it compact enough that you can shape it into spheres, and its soft enough that it doesn’t really hurt all that much if you throw it at someone. C’mon, try it Aid.”

First Aid bent and shaped himself a small ball of snow which he then lobbed at Sunstreaker, hitting him on the chestplate. To his surprise and alarm, the yellow mech staggered back a few steps, clutching his chest, then collapsed onto a flat patch of snow with a soft thud.

“Sun!”

Crying out in shock, First Aid ran to him.

Had Sunstreaker been sure about this snowball? What if he had been, but First Aid had thrown it too hard? Or what if he had accidentally hit some vital system?

Quickly he knelt beside the fallen mech and shook him gently.

“Sun! Sun speak to me, are you alright?!” he called urgently.

Splat!

Sunstreaker brought up a large handful of snow and smushed it down onto First Aid’s head, chuckling as the young medic squeaked in surprise at the sudden cold and sat up to brush the snow off his helm.

“That wasn’t funny!” he protested. “I thought I’d hurt you or something.”

The warrior reached up and cupped his cheek. “You could never hurt me.”

The medic’s faceplates warmed beneath his hand. “Sun….”

Their gazes held for a moment before Sunstreaker broke it off and lay spreadeagled, shifting a little to get comfortable. Then, to First Aid’s surprise, he began to move his arms and legs up and down, pushing snow in wide arcs away from him and creating a shallow gap.

“Another human custom,” he said. “Snow angels! C’mon, lie down and do the same, its easy.”

For a moment First Aid wondered if Sunstreaker really had damaged something when he fell, and looked at him a little apprehensively. Why anyone would want to lie in the snow and move around in it made no sense to him, much less an angel. Still, he didn’t want to hurt the other mech’s feelings, so he lay down next to the yellow warrior and flailed, feeling more than a little foolish.

After he’d done it a few times, Sunstreaker stood up and helped him up to his feet as well. Then he pointed down to the imprints the two of them had left in the snow, and to First Aid’s amazement, the silhouettes were not of two robots, but really did look as of two giant angels had lain down to rest. Beside him, Sunstreaker grinned.

“Still angry with me for falling down?” he asked.

First Aid wrapped his arms around his Sunlight. “I could never be angry with you. Thank you for bringing me out here and showing me how to make angels. They’re really nice.”

“But not as nice as my own angel.”

The medic smiled as the warrior lowered his head to kiss him.

Chapter Text

Primus, sentry duty was as boring as it got around here, Sunstreaker mused as he stood a couple of meters away from the Ark and scanned the horizons for anything that looked suspicious. Normally he had his brother there to keep him company, but today Sideswipe was off on patrol in another part of the country and wouldn’t be back for a couple of days.

Idly he walked back and forth a little bit to get the stiffness out of his legs, and did a few stretches to loosen up a few tight servos, just in case something decided to pop out at him.

But the surroundings remained relatively quiet and he settled back to standing still.

It was then that he first heard the barely perceptible squeak. Sunstreaker tensed and waited, senses on full alert for whatever was out there, but when nothing showed itself, he began to wonder if he’d imagined it. Then the bushes, a couple of paces to his right, rustled and he heard another squeak.

Frowning, he decided to investigate. Striding forward purposefully, he reached the bushes, knelt, and carefully parted the leaves and branches. What he found made his optics widen in surprise. A black hare lay trapped between a couple of thorn brambles, its left hind leg tangled between some branches and bleeding from a gash down its thigh. Still, it looked defiantly up at the Autobot that towered above it, eventhough it trembled in fear.

Sunstreaker knew a fighter when he saw one, and taking pity on the creature, he reached into the thorns to try and free it. As his hands neared, the hare struggled to get loose.

“Whoa, easy. Not gonna hurt ya,” he said, as he pulled the brambles away and carefully lifted the small creature out.

The hare trembled as it sat dwarfed in his yellow palm, and he carefully cradled it to his chest and looked around. He thought about simply releasing it back into the forest, but he didn’t like the look of its – her, as he soon found out – leg. If she couldn’t run, she’d be hunted down and killed before the day was out, and he wanted to give her a fighting chance to live.

Carefully, he ran a finger between her long ears and down her soft, velvety back, trying to soothe her, while trying to figure out what to do with her. In return, she sniffed him, swiveling her ears forward and twitching her short fluffy tail. Quite the elegant creature she was.

“Let’s call you Black Velvet, shall we?” Sunstreaker said. “So, what to do with you? Technically I’m still supposed to be on duty for another 20 minutes. I suppose you can hold out till then.”

In response, the hare sat back and began to wash her face with her forepaws.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ Velvet,” he remarked as he walked back to his post and took up position again.

The next few minutes passed in a flash for Sunstreaker as he occupied himself with watching Black Velvet play around on his hands, occasionally stopping to stroke her with a finger, or feed her small blades of grass that grew sparsely where he stood. The hare, in turn, decided that this large creature meant her no harm, and soon warmed up to him, standing up on her hind legs and nipping or swiping at his fingers with her front paws.

Sunstreaker smirked. Definitely a fighter.

At this point, he heard the crunch of gravel behind him, and turned to see Windcharger coming down the path to replace him, with Chip Chase beside him. Perfect, he thought.

“Hey Sunstreaker,” the boy hailed him, lifting one hand from his wheelchair to wave at him.

Sunstreaker nodded in return. “How’re you doing?”

“Not too bad. Just gonna head home now.”

“Want a lift?” Sunstreaker frowned at Windcharger. “What?”

“Oh nothing,” the Minibot replied quickly. “Just wondering why you’re suddenly offering to give rides to humans.”

“I’m offering a ride to CHIP because I need him to help me out with something along the way,” the warrior replied.

“Figures.”

“Ahh, c’mon guys. It's no big deal Windcharger, call it returning the favor. Besides, I’m sure Sunstreaker just wants me to help him pick up a can of wax along the way.”

The yellow mech just grunted and started walking, and Chip bid his goodbye to the Minibot and rolled fast to catch up with him, rounding a slight bend that put the Ark out of sight. He found Sunstreaker crouched there, looking at something on his palm. The mech glanced up as he neared.

“Actually I need you to help me take this little one to a medic,” he said. He lowered his hand to let Chip take a look. “Meet Black Velvet.”

Chip blinked in surprise. “A hare. How’d you find it?”

“Rescued her from a couple of thorn bushes. She’s hurt and I need a medic to help me patch her up.”

“You mean a vet.”

“Whatever.”

“Sure, I’ll be glad to help.” Chip reached to touch her, and had to draw his hand back quickly to avoid being scratched.

“I should mention she’s got a bit of a mean streak.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Sunstreaker gently stroked her again to calm her down, then carefully handed her to Chip while he transformed, retracted his passenger seat and extended a ramp so the boy could get in. Chip placed the hare on his lap and rolled up into the Lamborghini, strapping himself in, before pulling the door down.

“Let’s roll,” he said.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Prime,” Sunstreaker commented as he drove off.

….They reached the vet a while later and Sunstreaker let Chip out before he transformed. Chip wheeled himself in through the main entrance, while Sunstreaker went round to a window where he could still look inside and see what was going on. Chip and the vet entered soon, and the man jumped upon seeing the Autobot peering in.

“Something I can do for you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sunstreaker replied. “Fix Black Velvet.”

“He’s the one who found and rescued her,” Chip explained. “And I think he likes her.”

“Ah. Well I’ll see what I can do,” the man said. He placed Black Velvet on the examination table and focused a lamp on her injured hind leg. “Hmm… a couple of stitches should take care of this, though she’s going to need care till the wound heals and the stitches can come off.”

“I can handle it,” Sunstreaker said.

“Yes, well I’m not entirely sure an Autobot is qualified to-.”

“I said I’ll handle it,” Sunstreaker repeated in his ‘don’t frag with me’ voice. “Just fix her up.”

The doctor gulped and turned his attention back to the hare, getting out some instruments, needles and syringes. Sunstreaker watched him like a hawk as he gave the animal a localized injection to numb the pain of the stitching. Black Velvet kicked and squirmed as Chip held her down, and Sunstreaker found himself clenching a fist.

A half hour later and it was over. The vet took out a pet carrier, put a kicking Black Velvet inside and shut the gate, narrowly escaping a bite. Sunstreaker fought down a smirk. Chip, meanwhile, left the room and joined him outside the window. The vet passed the carrier to Sunstreaker and took his fee.

“I suggest you get a large crate and line it with a soft blanket so she wont hurt herself. Make sure its tall enough so that she cannot jump it,” he said. “Plenty of water, and vegetables like carrots, cabbage and lettuce should keep her in good health. She can exercise the limb a little, but don’t let her strain herself.”

Sunstreaker nodded. “Alright. Thanks for the help.” He transformed to let Chip in again. “When can I release her?”

“In about 3 days or so. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to arrange for a carer?”

Sunstreaker revved his engine angrily.

Chip chuckled. “Don’t worry doctor, I think she’s got the best caregiver around. Besides, I don’t think anyone else would be brave enough to get too close to her.”

…. Some time later, they pulled up in front of Chip’s house.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll sic Black Velvet on you” Sunstreaker warned.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Chip replied, smiling. “I think I’ve got an old blanket inside that I can give you.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“How’re you going to get her into the Ark?”

Sunstreaker pondered this. “I’ll find a way.”

…. This, however, was going to be a lot easier said than done, he realized as he slunk down the Ark’s hallways, the pet carrier wrapped in the blanket and tucked into the crook of his elbow. He decided to take a longer route back to his quarters so as to avoid bumping into any other Autobots and hence dealing with awkward questions. Finally, he reached his quarters and slipped inside.

“Well, that took a while.”

He set the carrier down on the desk and opened the gate so Black Velvet could come back out. She crawled out cautiously and made her way over to the blanket where she then sat and washed her whiskers. Sunstreaker watched her fondly. She seemed none the worse for wear after her ordeals. Then he remembered he needed to get a crate for her.

Probably had some spares in the medbay, if he was willing to risk being cornered by Ratchet as to why he wanted one. Well, he hadn’t come this far in his life by living cautiously. He gave Black Velvet a rub between her ears, then headed out to the medbay.

To his surprise and relief, Ratchet was no where in sight, and he crept in quietly to where the empty crates were stacked, carefully lifting the topmost one and examining it to see if it would serve its purpose as the hare’s temporary home.

“Looking for something?” Ratchet asked from behind him.

Sunstreaker spun around, startled. “Ah! Uh… just borrowing a crate, if you don’t need it Ratchet,” he said.

“I don’t,” the medic replied. “But I’m inclined to ask why?”

“Storage,” Sunstreaker said a little too quickly.

“Of what?”

“You don’t trust me.” A wounded tone. “I’m not Sideswipe y’know.”

“True, but you are his brother.”

“Personal use. Nothing nefarious, I give my word.”

Ratchet scrutinized him for a moment. He knew the warrior was hiding something, but if he wanted to borrow a crate, there was nothing that said he couldn’t. Ratchet couldn’t take any action unless the crate later came into play as part of some underhanded deed.

“Alright,” he gave in. “But you’d better not get into trouble with it.”

“Thanks Ratch!” Sunstreaker fled.

Once back in his room, he used the blanket Chip had given him to line one half of the crate, onto which he placed Black Velvet. On the other side, he placed a handful of soil in one corner, and a small dish of water in the other. In the middle he placed a few leaves of cabbage and some pieces of carrot. She seemed pleased with her current habitat and settled down almost immediately, sipping from the water dish and nibbling on some of the food, while her ears followed Sunstreaker as he moved around the room.

Finally she curled up in a corner and shut her eyes, Sunstreaker watching her till she drifted off to sleep, before going over to his recharge berth to get some rest of his own.

Later that night, while most of the Ark was asleep, Ratchet crept down the hall to the residential quarters, silently overriding the code to Sunstreaker’s room and stepping inside. The crate sat on his desk and the medic went over to look inside. He had to stifle a small gasp of surprise when he saw the black ball of fur in the corner. Long ears swiveled to face him, and a vicious little head came up. The creature hissed, baring powerful chisel-like teeth and Ratchet quickly took a step back.

“Black Velvet,” Sunstreaker murmured, and Ratchet jumped again. “A female hare I found this evening while on sentry duty.”

Ratchet turned to look at the warrior who was still lying on his berth. “Kinda vicious isn't she?”

“Depends. Seems to like me.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“She was hurt. Took her to the vet to get her patched up. Gotta keep her here a couple of days before I can release her.”

“Never would have figured you had a soft spot for animals.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

“So I see.”

“Besides, she’s a fighter like me. Gotta respect that.”

Chapter Text

Pierre Receau’s Parisian mansion was big even by Sunstreaker’s standards, the yellow mech thought as he wandered along one of the hallway in search of something to do. He’d come to Paris again to visit his young artist friend, but as he’d given no prior announcement that he was arriving, when he pulled up at the front door, he’d found out that Pierre had gone off to one of the museums to supervise the set up of one of his art exhibitions.

Sunstreaker being a common and favored visitor was given the run of the house till Pierre returned, not that any of the human servants would have been able to stop him had he wanted to do anything. The yellow mech had to rack his memory banks to find the way to Pierre’s studio, but eventually remembered the route and made for it, hoping to find something there to keep him occupied.

He found it soon enough and stepped inside, crossing the wide expanse of space to a smaller study-like room and stopping to look around. Then he quirked an optic ridge. On one of the desks were some decidedly un-French-like books, and as Sunstreaker knelt to take a closer look, he recognized the script as Japanese. Odd. He didn’t think Pierre even knew to speak Japanese, let alone read it.

Gingerly, he flipped open the cover to scan the pages and to his surprise, instead of columns of text, he saw sequential panels of various pictures depicting various scenes. He realized, mainly from looking at some of Spike’s reading material, that this was some form of comic book that was strangely uncolored. Perhaps that’s why they were in here – Pierre meant to color them in at some point.

Shrugging, he picked up one of the books and a set of larger pastel chalk, and headed back out to the studio where the light was better. He sat and picked up a clipboard and fastened the book to it so that he’d have both hands free to color. Then he got to work.

It wasn’t easy for an Autobot as large as him to work with human-sized equipment, but Sunstreaker was able to magnify the pages with his optics to a size decent enough for him to do his work without having to squint and strain. Still though, trying to get every bit of each panel colored was definitely a challenge – especially working between the fine lines, but the warrior had never been a quitter.

He kept at it doggedly until at last the final panel was completed and he looked up.

Pierre Receau stood a few feet away, watching him with an amused expression on his face. Sunstreaker immediately straightened up, feeling a good number of gears groan with the stiffness of sitting in one position for too long. He held out the book to Pierre, who took it, still with that look on his face.

“There, I helped you finish coloring one,” Sunstreaker said.

“So I see, mon ami,” Pierre replied, flipping through the book with a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” the yellow mech asked. “There some joke I missed?”

“Non, non… not a joke my friend, but eh… you are unfamiliar with Japanese art.”

“I’ve never really followed it,” Sunstreaker admitted. “Why?”

“Well you see, my friend. In Japan, there is a popular art-style called manga, most often used in comic books like this.” Pierre held up the book. “The inside pages are almost never colored.”

Sunstreaker gaped, putting two and two together. “Oh slag…”

Pierre chuckled. “Slag indeed.”

“Please tell me that one was easy to replace.”

“Ah this one… this one was a special edition volume I managed to obtain in that it doesn’t contain the usual text you find in the normal versions.”

The warrior dropped his face into a palm. “I don’t suppose I’m sorry will make things better.”

The young man just patted the mech’s knee. “Don’t fret. I think I can still turn this to my advantage. After all, it’s not everyday one gets an Autobot as a colorist.” He flipped through the book again, noting the blend and mix of the colors. “You are good. Should have told me you liked to play around with colors, I would have an area set up for you to experiment with watercolors.”

Sunstreaker waved him away. “I think I’ve had about all the colors I can take for one day.”

Chapter Text

It was rather interesting how humans liked to celebrate the day of their creations, Sunstreaker thought. Back on Cybertron, one’s creation was really nothing special, but here it was supposed to be a joyous occasion where the person – or persons – of the hour was showered with good wishes and gifts. So it had completely normal for their human friends to try and give all the Autobots birthdays.

Jazz had all but jumped at the idea and had eagerly helped Chip and Wheeljack calculate the approximate creation date – or birthday as it was called here – for whichever Autobot wanted to have one. Any excuse for a party, Sunstreaker supposed. He hadn’t particularly cared, but since Sideswipe had asked for it, Sunstreaker got a birthday by default since they were twins and hence shared the same creation date.

So here he was, in the lounge with a bunch of mechs all drinking a toast to his and Sideswipe’s health, while a random assortment of gifts littered the table in front of him. He made an effort to be sociable, not wanting the mechs who’d thrown this party for them to think he was ungrateful because he wasn’t, and he was grateful to Bluestreak and Trailbreaker for doing it…

It was just that…

“Sunny. He’ll be back.”

The sentence was soft, meant for his audios only. He looked up and saw Jazz standing beside him, visor betraying none of the comfort that was in his voice. He didn’t have to ask who the black-and-white was talking about, they both knew and they were both concerned by his absence.

It simply wasn’t like Sideswipe to be late for his own birthday party.

“Yeah, thanks Jazz.”

He offered the saboteur a twitch of a smile. Jazz placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in again.

“I’ll cover for you.”

Sometimes Sunstreaker swore that Jazz was psychic. He had this uncanny ability to guess just what a mech was thinking at times, and some mechs he could read better than others. Sunstreaker was one of them.

“Appreciate it.”

He quietly slipped out of the lounge and took a series of rarely-used hallways to get to the exit since he really didn’t feel up to making small talk. The next mech who stopped to ask him where his brother was would probably get a fist to the faceplate, and the last thing he wanted to was to spend the remainder of his birthday in a cell.

The night was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of noise in the lounge, and Sunstreaker found it refreshing. He could think out here as he scanned the horizon for any signs of his twin, trying not to imagine the worst possibilities and hoping that the red mech had merely got stuck in traffic.

“C’mon Sides,” he murmured. “Don’t make me spend this birthday alone.”

He didn’t know how long he stood outside there – couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes, but it felt like hours. Then he heard a scrabbling off to the side and he looked over to see the red warrior slide down a slope looking worn and a little beaten up, but none the worse for wear.

“Sideswipe!” Sunstreaker ran to his brother. “The frag’ve you been?!”

“Avoiding ‘Cons. Received a feed that there were a couple of them staking out the route back, didn’t feel like playing, cut through the woods on foot instead,” Sideswipe replied. “How was the party?”

Sunstreaker walked with him slowly. “Don’t know, left halfway to come look for you.”

“Aw, you didn’t think I’d let you spend our birthday alone did you?”

They stopped, framed by the entryway into the Ark, and Sunstreaker pulled Sideswipe into an embrace. Sideswipe blinked in surprise, then wrapped his own arms around his brother with a chuckle.

“Silly lugnut. You know I’d never do that.”

“Better not. Had me worried there for a while.”

Sideswipe hugged his twin. “So what presents did you get? Anything good?”

Sunstreaker gently rubbed his back. “Sideswipe… you’re the best gift I’ve ever been given.”

“You’re mine, too, Sunny.”

Jazz, crossing the hallway further away, paused and smiled a bit on seeing them, touching two fingers in a small salute to the brothers. “Happy Birthday, boys,” he murmured to himself and continued on his way, his visor hiding a knowing twinkle in his optic.

Chapter Text

Sunstreaker let out a content sigh as his tired body eased into the gentle, soothing spray of the water coming from the jets positioned on both sides of the chamber. Not too cold, not too hot, and at medium pressure, it was just the way he liked it. For all their misgivings, at least the humans had the right idea when they thought up the carwash.

At the moment there was nothing more divine than the feeling of those soft, soapy buffers running along his sides, hood and roof, spreading a nice, cleansing detergent over his chassis. He could almost smell the minty freshness in it as all the dirt and mud he’d accumulated over the past few weeks dissolved in the water and flowed away from him.

He twitched a little as a buffer ran over a ticklish spot, and his engine purred in satisfaction as he felt some of the tension ease out of his systems. It was tempting to just offline and let the machines do their work, but he wanted to stay awake and feel every wonderful sensation because Primus knew when he’d get another chance like this again.

The spray-jets rinsed him off and the now-detergent-free buffers ran over him once more, the light fibers working out residual dirt from any niches and crevices in his armor. Sunstreaker could just imagine how pristine his paint looked at the moment and made a mental note to introduce his brother to the place. Primus knew Sideswipe could use a bath now and then.

By this time, the conveyor belt was moving him out of the wash chamber and into another cubicle with huge vents that blew strong gusts of warm air all over him to dry him up. Oh this was the life. He wondered if there was any way he could talk Prime and Prowl into having Wheeljack install an automated carwash like this back in the Ark, though having a monopoly on it would be tricky. It was worth a shot anyway.

Once he was all dry, he was moved off into another room where a group of humans stood waiting with buff-cloths and bottles of his favorite wax. Sunstreaker smiled to himself as they got to work massaging the protective wax into his body, trying to imagine how his golden-yellow paint was going to gleam once they were done. He was going to be the envy of everyone back home.

He could just hear them all going “Sunstreaker, you look lovely”, “That’s a great look on you, Sunny” or “You’re looking wonderful, Sunstreaker.”

“Sunstreaker.”

Yeah, his name was the very embodiment of beauty and perfection.

“Sunstreaker.”

The very name held awe, didn’t it?

“Sunstreaker.”

Yes, that was his name. No need to wear it out.

“Sunstreaker!”

The sudden closeness of the voice startled him and he snapped out of his reverie to find a rather irritated Red Alert standing beside him, a patented frown on his face-plates. Wait, why was the security director here?

“What?” he asked, scowling partly from having been interrupted from his nice daydream.

“Prowl has been calling your channel for the last five minutes. Care to answer it some time?”

Sunstreaker sat up straighter and checked his console, and sure enough the logs indicated Prowl had been comm-ing the channel for a while now. Oh he was in for slag, and he could probably kiss his dreams of a carwash goodbye. Unless…

“Hey Red, when was the last time Prowl went to a carwash?”

Chapter Text

Sunstreaker glanced up from his sketch when the comm-system inside his shared quarters went off, and looked over at his brother who was busy playing one of his game chips. Sideswipe shrugged, then quirked an optic ridge at the sound of Prowl’s voice.

“Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, please report to the Command deck immediately.”

The yellow warrior looked at his twin suspiciously. From previous experience, both mechs knew that summons to the Officers’ domain usually didn’t bode well for them, so Sunstreaker’s expression wasn’t totally unfounded. Sideswipe glanced over at him and caught the look.

“What?!”

“Who did you prank this time?”

“No one! I’ve been prank-free all month!” Sideswipe stood. “And what makes you think it was something I did?”

Sunstreaker got to his feet as well. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Well… which Minibot did you beat up recently?”

“None of them, sadly. I think they’re learning not to say slag in front of me.”

“Then why the frag does Prowl want us up there?” Sideswipe asked.

“How the frag should I know?” Sunstreaker asked.

The comm-line crackled again, stopping Sideswipe mid-retort and both of them looked up in unison.

“Are you both unaware of the meaning of ‘immediately’?” Prowl’s voice sounded again. “Command deck. Now.”

Grumbling and eyeing each other suspiciously, both warriors left the room and stalked up towards the Command deck. Mechs seeing them coming took one look at their expressions and quickly scrambled to get out of the way. Angry Lamborghinis were dangerous Lamborghinis and no one wanted to get caught in the inevitable crossfire, since it was a little apparent where they were going.

The doors to the Command deck slid open and the pair stepped in. Prowl was there as expected, but they were a little surprised to see Optimus Prime and Jazz there as well. Sideswipe looked worriedly at his twin, wondering what they had done to warrant the presence of the three top officers.

“You’re probably wondering why we called you here, so I’ll cut straight to the point,” Prime said. “We’re probably going to be here on Earth for a very long while, and we need to set up a proper command structure to take care of things. Now, the rest of the officers and I will be handling most of the workload, but we need some mechs to handle things at the soldiers’ level.”

“I hope you understand the kind of responsibility that comes with such a rank,” Prowl took over. “As front-line warriors, those under your command will be looking to you for guidance, and you will be responsible for their safety, just as we are responsible for yours.”

Sunstreaker frowned and looked from Prime and Prowl to Jazz, still trying to wrap his processor around what was being said. Jazz smiled sympathetically and came to stand between them, sling an arm around each twin’s shoulders.

“Don’t mind the formalities, I had to go through a whole bunch of speeches like that when I was promoted,” the saboteur said.

The yellow warrior stared at him.

Sideswipe smacked the side of his helm with a hand. “Sorry, static in my audio receptors. I could have sworn I heard you say something about a promotion.”

“That’s ‘cause I did. You’re being promoted, both of you.”

“Congratulations,” Prowl said, with a bit of a wry smile.

Sunstreaker was still staring at Jazz, too surprised to say anything at that moment. Sideswipe reached over and poked a shoulder.

“I think you broke him.”

“Shut up,” Sunstreaker replied. “I’m fine. This was just a bit… sudden.”

“I know, and I apologize for that,” Prime said. “But it was necessary. Don’t let me down.”

“We wont, thank you, sir,” Sideswipe answered, then nudged Sunstreaker.

“Oh, uh yeah… thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Dismissed.”

Both of them saluted, then turned and left the room feeling considerably better than when they had first come in.

Chapter Text

Sideswipe stared out at the evening rain with an expression as dark as the clouds themselves. Turning his optics skywards, he glared at the dark thunderheads as they rolled and swirled above, as if his very stare could somehow make them all go away. His mood had already been bad with his twin in the medbay, and the weather had only served to make it that much worse.

Stupid brother of his, he thought. Just because he had the tougher armor didn’t mean he was resistant to certain kinds of firepower – and he was definitely not immune to shot from Megatron’s fusion cannon. His polymer armor and quick reflexes were probably what saved him from termination altogether.

Footsteps sounded behind him and the red warrior turned to see Blaster coming up to where he stood at the Ark’s entrance. The communications specialist stopped beside him and took a moment to survey the weather situation outside.

“How’s ol’ Sunshine doing?” he asked then.

“Ratch’s releasing him later, but confined him to quarters and light duty for a while – nothing too straining,” Sideswipe said.

“Well that’s good news at least,” Blaster replied. “So why’re you here looking like someone poured mud in your energon?”

“I was just checking to see if there was any chance of the weather clearing up. Sunny sometimes likes to relax outside and look at the stars to see if he can spot any constellations, stuff like that.” The mech sighed. “It’s just, y’know, our little bit of quiet time together.”

Blaster looked at him sympathetically. “Hate to disappoint ya, man, but I just checked in with the Met Department and looks like the rain’s gonna continue into tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Sideswipe crossed his arms. “Sunny hates being cooped indoors, especially after repairs.”

“He likes looking at stars, eh?” Blaster was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“That’s what I said.” Sideswipe looked over at him curiously. “Why? You have something in mind?”

“I might, follow me.” The red-and-grey mech turned away from the rain and headed further into the Ark, making his way to one of the elevators.

Sideswipe hurried after him, his worry about Sunstreaker and the weather temporarily distracted by his curiosity about what Blaster was up to. “Where are we going?”

“Storage. Jazz and I had this party some time ago – dunno if you remember it – and I think we still have some of the decorations left over that I think you can use, if you don’t mind getting a little creative.”

“Hey, creative I can do.”

“I thought you could.”

=====

Sunstreaker leaned into his brother’s embrace and managed to ease himself off the table, mindful of the fresh repairs done to his body. While he was grateful to Ratchet for keeping him alive, the general stiffness and soreness that came with healing injuries still hurt like the fragger.

“Easy there, Sunny,” Sideswipe said, steadying him on his feet.

“You make sure he gets plenty of rest. If I catch him in here again before I declare him medically fit, I’m coming after you, got it?” Ratchet asked.

Sideswipe nodded. “Got it.”

“Good, now get him outta here and get him to sleep.”

“Yes, Doc. C’mon, bro, lets get you all tucked in.”

“Frag you,” Sunstreaker muttered, but allowed himself to be helped out anyway.

They walked in silence for a while, Sideswipe more concerned with listening to some of the sounds emitting from Sunstreaker’s body to see if he was moving too fast for the mech, or if he needed to stop and rest along the way.

“Don’t think we can go outside today, Sunny,” Sideswipe said as they paused for a moment in the hallway. “It’s raining.”

“Eh, that’s okay. Don’t think I’m up to much star-gazing tonight anyway,” Sunstreaker replied. “I’m good to go again.”

They resumed their walk and reached their quarters not long after. Sideswipe palmed the door open and they stepped into softly lit room, the red twin leading his brother over to the recharge berth. Sunstreaker lay down with a sigh, the soft padding of the berth cushioning his sore body and easing the strain on his back and limb-servos.

Once he was sure his brother was comfortable, Sideswipe went over to the light panel and switched off the lights, then grinned at the small sound of surprise from his twin. He turned to see Sunstreaker staring up at the ceiling that was currently adorned with glow-in-the-dark stars.

“Figured I’d bring the stars to you,” he said, going over and sitting beside his brother. “Though you’d have to thank Blaster for the idea and the supplies.”

Sunstreaker shifted himself so he could lay his head in the red warrior’s lap. “Thanks, Sides.”

“Any time, Sunny.”

Chapter Text

The yellow warrior looked down at his human friend with an expression of long-suffering on his face. Around him, the man’s attendants were busy climbing up onto ladders and stools, draping and wrapping lengths of white fabric around his body and over his shoulder.

“Should I even ask what this is about?” he asked the young Frenchman.

“It’s art, my friend,” Pierre replied. “And you should know, I get my greatest inspiration from you.”

“While that’s flattering an everything, I don’t see why you still need to actually carry out those ideas on me physically,” Sunstreaker said.

“Come now Sunstreaker, you know how hands-on I am about my art. Besides, you look tres magnifique!”

“I don’t even know what the frag I’m supposed to be!”

Sunstreaker looked down as two men busily secured a rope around his waist, and then continued to settle the white fabric as per Pierre’s instructions. He was only thankful that they were doing this in the privacy of the artist’s Parisian mansion and not out somewhere public. He’d never be able to live down the humiliation.

And how the frag did he let Pierre talk him into these things anyway?

“Earth history. Garments such as this were worn by the noblest of Roman emperors.”

“You have something against Italians, don’t you?”

“Prissy whiners, the lot of them,” Pierre replied.

“Hey!”

The man laughed. “Present company exempted of course.”

“I still don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“History, my friend.” He patted the yellow mech’s leg. “History and technology blending together to create art. I was hoping I could ask some of your other friends to join in. The French Porsche and the American Corvette for instance; perhaps even one of your Japanese Datsun friends?”

Sunstreaker chuckled. “So you can dress them up in wacky costumes, too?” He thought a moment. “Though Jazz actually wouldn’t mind. Well, I guess I could ask around. Seeing Tracks in some poncy historic outfit might be good for a laugh.”

At this point, another attendant scrambled up a ladder and placed a large circlet of leaves on the warrior’s head. Pierre only smiled to himself as he took up his place behind the canvas. He figured it was better not to mention how silly a giant robot looked wearing a Roman toga. Of course he’d make it look artistic in his final painting, but for now he’d just enjoy the rather amusing sight in front of him.

“So how’s this for a pose?” Sunstreaker went down on one knee and attempted to position his arms in some dramatic posture, after the fashion of Julius Caesar. “I picked it up from one of Shakespeare’s stories.”

Biting his lower lip against the laughter that swelled at the back of his throat, Pierre wisely picked up a brush and started to paint before he completely lost his composure.

Chapter Text

A sigh.

A tilt of his head.

A deft stroke of his paintbrush.

Then his optic ridges knitted together in a slight frown before he repeated the process. Sunstreaker sat under his favorite tree a few meters away from the Ark – a mass of gold against the background of green and dull grey of the grass and stormy sky – his gaze fixed on the work of art before him.

It was a blustery day outside, and with a storm looming on the horizon, it was no wonder many of the other Autobots had opted to stay indoors, though maybe that explained why he was out here, all alone. It wasn’t uncommon for him, and if it helped to keep him out of the brig, then he was welcome to keep doing it.

A breeze ruffled the right-hand edges of his paper and he unconsciously placed his hand over it to hold it down, not even looking up at the sky to see how grey it had gotten. Oh no, he would probably stay like this, out here, till his picture was finished. He was never one for half-done jobs after all – be it art or war – and he was really good at both.

Everyone knows him more as Sunstreaker the killer though. It’s probably why most other Autobots like to keep their distance from him. They’re afraid that if they get too close, he’ll harm them. So they think that if they leave him alone, he’ll leave them alone… but what good is that really doing him?

You’d think that being Autobots they’d know better. You’d think that as Autobots, they wouldn’t abandon a fellow comrade, even if it was just to nature and the elements. It was wrong somehow. You’d feel the same way if you saw him sitting there all alone. You wonder how long it would be before they left him alone in battle, too.

You hope they wont. You may sound like you don’t need anyone, or tell the others that you’re better than them – and maybe you are – but you also know that you like some of them. Some of those Autobots are your friends. You want them to be there for you, Sunstreaker, just like your brother’s always there for you. You don’t really want to be sitting out here alone, even if it is your favorite tree and your picture is really good. You know you don’t really like to be alone.

You know you don’t. I know you too well, Sun. I know you’d like to share your art, but I know some of them would just ridicule it, and I rather have you alone out here than alone in the brig or the medbay after a fight. I know you want to love, and I know you want to be loved – and not just by your brother.

That’s why I’m here. I wish all you had were some physical injuries so that I could patch you up and send you on your way, but you don’t, and it pains me as a medic not to be able to help you sometimes. I guess all I can do is love you, Sun, and hope that its enough to heal the wounds I cannot see.

A few drops of rain fell on the paper and I watched him as he frowned and looked up, noticing only now how stormy it had become. I wandered out to him, hoping I could somehow coax him back inside and out of the rain that would be pouring down on us soon. He glanced at me as I neared and peered down at his picture.

A couple embraced in the rain as they stood under a tree. It was abstract, hard to tell if the couple was male or female, human or mechanoid.

“Who is it?” I asked him.

“Whoever you want it to be,” he told me, standing up and dusting grass from his aft.

He canted a small hint of a smile in my direction, then bent and kissed my forehead just as the first shower of rain came down.

“I don’t want you to stay out here alone in the rain,” I said.

He looked sadly at me. “Neither do I, but I don’t see what choice I have.”

“You can come inside with me, Sun.”

I watched him as he considered this option for a moment. Then he relented and wrapped an arm around me, steering me inside.

“As long as it keeps you out of the rain, Aid,” he said.

I smiled and let him lead me in. It didn’t matter who was taking care of whom. What was important was that he no longer had to be by himself, because I would never leave him lonely.

Chapter Text

To be honest, I didn’t think he’d really do it.

It wasn’t my fault the little squishes couldn’t keep their hands to themselves when they saw me parked somewhere, and I think I’ve tolerated being felt up for quite some time now with good patience. So when that little greaseball thought it’d be funny to take a key to my paint-job, I told him to take a hike before I stepped on him.

How was I to know some rat of a reporter was gonna walk by at that very moment? Next thing you know, it’s all over the tabloids: Autobot Threatens Human.

I didn’t even scratch the punk for crying out loud! All I did was transform and loom menacingly over him so he got the message about vandalizing, but does anyone realize that? Oh no… what matters more is coddling their precious humans’ feelings. Wait till someone carves up their paint and see how they like the feeling.

So Prowl decided I’d gone too far this time and kicked me out of the Ark for a week, as punishment. Oh and not only that, he had Skyfire drop me off in London, of all places. Something about getting along with the humans for once if I wanted a place to recharge at night.

No, he wouldn’t let Sideswipe come with me. This was supposed to be punishment after all, which left me pretty much on my own for the next couple of weeks with nothing but humans for company. Ugh… how did humans even live in such a place? It rained continuously since I got there and I was forced to drive through sleet and muddy water that just about ruined my paint.

Fraggit all, Prowl may have dropped me off in London, but it didn’t mean I had to stay there. Beyond this little island was a whole continent that had to have better weather than this, surely, so I decided to try crossing the Channel and heading over to Paris, France. Traffic almost made me rethink that little plan of mine… almost, but listening to the weather report, I figured I’d rather take my chances with traffic.

Thankfully, it only a took an hour or so to clear the Channel and from there it was a rather smooth drive towards Paris. I’d never admit it to anyone, but the scenery was pretty as a picture. Made me wish I’d been able to bring some of my art supplies with me, but since this was punishment and all, I wasn’t allowed to bring more than a few rations of energon and some first aid tools.

A good 6 hours later, I finally saw the tip of the Eiffel Tower come into view, and slowed a little to keep to the humans’ speed limit. Last thing I needed was to get pulled over for speeding, especially when I was supposed to be getting along with the midgets. Prowl would have an even bigger field day.

Wanting to see the Tower up close, I managed to work my way through traffic and pulled up along a side-street adjacent to it, then stopped in front of a flight of steps. It was late afternoon and there were a few people – artists mainly – sitting around and attempting to paint the thing. At least that’s what I figured, judging by all the jars of water and pots of paint around them.

Curiosity got the better of me and I transformed and headed up the stairs to see what their work looked like. All around me I could sense people watching me, waiting to see if I was going to threaten anyone. Slagging article must have gotten around since a couple of the artists actually abandoned their paintings when I bent to get a closer look.

“Primus, I’m not going to hurt anyone,” I said. “Can't a bot look at some art?”

Useless little fraggers, most of them, I thought as I climbed up a few more steps towards a young boy who’d barely given me a second look, since he seemed to be more wrapped up in his work. Well, that took some bearings. I stopped beside him and looked down at his picture… I can honestly say I have never been in so much awe since coming to this planet than at that moment.

That kid’s picture was astoundingly beautiful, and he’d done it all with charcoal… CHARCOAL! It was then I noticed that he didn’t have much by way of art supplies around him – just a few sheets of paper and a couple of sticks of charcoal. There were other sketches lying on the ground next to him and I browsed through them, noting that they were done just as flawlessly as the current one.

Frag me, they should be hanging in a gallery somewhere.

The boy looked over at me and said in French, “You can have one if you want.”

“Learn this in art school?” I asked in return, thankful I’d managed to download and comprehend a basic French language pack. “They’re quite good.”

“I don’t go to school,” he said. “My family cannot afford it.”

That floored me. Here was a natural artistic talent, and no one knew about him because he simply had no social standing. No, this wasn’t right at all.

I changed the topic. “Have you ever tried watercolor?”

“No. I don’t have any… and no one around here wants to share them with me.”

“You should just buy your own, then.”

“I have no money.”

I picked up one of his sketches and subspaced it, then pressed some francs into his hand. “Now you do.” Then I pointed at the tourists loitering around busy snapping pictures of the Tower. “If I were you, I’d try selling off a couple of these and doing a few commissions for a price. How fast can you sketch?”

“Five to ten minutes for something basic.”

“Well then, I think I have an idea that’ll probably benefit us both.” I crouched beside him. “I’m Sunstreaker, what’s your name?”

“Pierre. Pierre Receau.”

“Alright Pierre, listen carefully now.”

=====

Prowl picked up the small newspaper I tossed on to his desk and regarded me with an optic. I crossed my arms and looked straight back at him. My one week was up and I was supposed to try and convince Prowl to let me back in the Ark – show him I’d learned my lesson as it were.

“And this is?” he asked.

“Did you know I had reporters following me all the way from London to Paris trying to snap pictures of me?” I asked in return. “Managed to avoid them most of the time, but one of them got lucky. Have a look at page five.”

He delicately turned to the page and looked down at the photograph of me crouched with a couple of tourists in front of the Eiffel Tower while a young boy busily sketched our picture.

I smiled a bit when I looked at it. In the time I spent with Pierre, we’d managed to earn enough money from his sketches to buy him proper supplies for him to continue doing his art, as well as put some proper food on the table for him and his family. He was a good kid, completely devoted to his skill, and I’d be slagged if I was going to let him throw it away.

“Interesting picture,” Prowl said. “Go get cleaned up. Your brother will be back from patrol in an hour or so.”

I smirked. “Thanks… oh and Prowl? You still in contact with the Portland mayor?”

Pierre could go far, all he needed was to meet the right people, and as far as I was concerned, he just had. I was going to put this kid on the map.

“I am, why?”

“Well… I met this kid in Paris…”